Gatekeepers Book 1: Darkness
The Prisoners' Games

Poseidon was returning to his office, having dealt with a scuffle that had broken out between two of the dragon prisoners over a vat of food for breakfast. He had closed the door behind him and left the office not even for five minutes, but as Poseidon landed in the cave, he noticed that his office door was wide open, and the large frame of a badly scarred black dragon filled the doorway, its back to Poseidon.

What in the world is going on now? As Poseidon drew closer to the new arrival, he finally recognized the dragon as Vinzgar, the head of the Killwing family. He saw that Vinzgar currently had the deadly tip of his tail pressed up on Draycos’s neck as the two spoke to one another.

“Vinzgar!” Poseidon exclaimed, rushing forward and putting a hand on the black dragon’s shoulder. Surprised, Vinzgar flinched and looked over his shoulder to look at Poseidon.

“There you are, Poseidon,” Vinzgar said calmly. “Where were you just now? And why did you leave the brat unattended while you were gone? He’s a prisoner; he can’t be trusted to act according to what’s right.”

“Who are you to make such statements?” Poseidon growled, evidently annoyed. “Besides, he isn’t unsupervised. That pendant he’s wearing will let us know where he’s at during all times and what he’s doing. Additionally, he wouldn’t be able to leave the cave without alerting multiple guards.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Draycos commented, his hands up in the air, “but this brute just wouldn’t list---!”

Vinzgar pressed his tail tip even harder against Draycos’s neck, cutting off the rest of his sentence. The skin broke, and a drop of blood leaked out of the cut and slid down the edge of Vinzgar’s tail.

“Vinzgar!” Poseidon warned, raising his voice a few decibels. Vinzgar sighed and took the tip of his tail away from Draycos’s neck.

“Alright, I get it,” he muttered. “I’ll stop now.”

Draycos rubbed his neck where Vinzgar had cut him and wiped the blood onto his neck. The cut had already stopped bleeding, and Draycos furiously rubbed his hands together, causing the blood to dry out quickly and flake off his hands. He glanced up at Vinzgar, rubbing his smooth neck again.

“You know, that was a pretty close shave, there,” Draycos commented. “Are you a professional barber or something?”

Vinzgar glared coldly at Draycos but took no actions against him; Poseidon still had a hand on his shoulder, preventing Vinzgar from moving. In contrast to Vinzgar’s reaction, Poseidon was chuckling, covering his snout with his remaining available hand.

“No, Draycos, this isn’t a barber,” he laughed. “Let me introduce you to Vinzgar, the head of the Killwing family.” He returned his attention to Vinzgar as he released his shoulder. “Vinzgar, what are you doing here in my office toying with Draycos?”

Vinzgar turned around briskly and met Poseidon’s eyes. “I’m not sure what Vertex actually told last night, but the Dragon Council has come to the decision to host the Prisoners’ Game next month, so that Draycos’s can show us if he’s capable of assisting us in the recovery of the Orb.”

“Ah, yes, Vertex did say that when he came to speak to me late last night,” Poseidon remembered, stroking his beard.

I didn’t see Vertex in here last night; he must’ve come in after I fell asleep. Draycos shook his head to rid it of those useless thoughts. “Did you say that you’re hosting the games to assess my abilities?”

Vinzgar glanced down at Draycos. “You are half right,” he answered. “We are hosting the games earlier than normal this year for you, but not to assess your abilities. We’ll be assessing those prior to the games, and if you don’t meet certain criteria, we won’t allow you to participate, making this whole ordeal pointless.” He hardened his glare at Draycos. “We’re being forced to put trust in you in order to replace more clues about the Orb of the First King, because we’re at a dead end on its trail. Do not let us down by not even passing the assessment test; pass it and win the games so we can proceed. If you don’t, I will personally see to your execution that the public is so demanding for.” With that statement, Poseidon left Draycos and Poseidon in the room alone.

Poseidon sighed. “Sorry about that sudden intrusion, Draycos,” he apologized. “Vinzgar has been extremely on edge since we lost the Orb, and it has him in a state of constant irritation.”

“Are you sure he isn’t always like that?” Draycos asked, scratching the back of his head. “He doesn’t come across as the friendly type.” He shook his head. “So, the Dragon Council is hosting this event early because of me?”

Poseidon nodded and sat at his desk. “Yes, the Dragon Council wants to see if they can use you to help replace our stolen treasure,” he responded, folding his fingers together and resting his head on it, eyes closed. “The problem with that is that you have no combat experience whatsoever, which is a requirement if they were to send you out into the field. So, they decided to host this fighting tournament that we hold yearly between prisoners to remedy that problem. It’s the quickest way to allow you to get experience, but there’s still a problem with this plan.”

“Because I’ll be at a disadvantage against any opponents since all the other prisoners have experience and I don’t?” It was pretty obvious that it was a big problem.

“Exactly. Not only that, but they also know how to fight, which is still more than you can say for yourself.”

“Ugh.” As much as it pained him to admit it, Draycos agreed with Poseidon on that. All Draycos ever did was throw simple heavy kicks and punches; he had no training whatsoever and relied on reflex to dodge any incoming attacks.

“That’s why I’ll have to stop teaching you Dragonscript and focus on training you in basic combat,” a different voice spoke.

Surprised by the new voice speaking, Draycos looked up and noticed that Zero was leaning against the door that had been left ajar upon Vinzgar’s departure.

“Zero?” Draycos hadn’t even noticed the dragon sneaking inside. “When did you get in here?”

“As we get closer to the date of the tournament, the council will start a screening process to assess a prisoner’s ability,” Zero reinstated what Vinzgar said earlier, ignoring Draycos’s question. “It’s a point-based assessment based on five different stats: attack, defense, speed, magic, and endurance. You can score anywhere from zero to five points in each category, and you must get at least a score of ten in order to participate in the games. Each prisoner is scored based on information about their race.” Zero held up an arm and flexed his bulging muscles before continuing. He smiled and stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, just like yesterday. “Draycos, you’re severely lack in all departments, excluding endurance. You’ll never pass the assessment test as you are now. So now I get the pleasure of personally training you so that you can pass.”

That’s it; this dragon is officially gay in my book.

“No way,” Draycos flatly refused, crossing his hands in front of him. Zero’s teasing was getting really old.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter this time, Draycos,” Poseidon said calmly. “The king himself ordered Zero to train you since he’s been teaching you for a month already.”

“Do you know what kind of crap this pervert could get away with if I do his ‘training’?! What can a dragon from a family of inventors teach me about combat, anyways?!”

Zero suddenly appeared behind Draycos and forcefully grabbed the unsuspecting half-breed’s belt.

“Just because the Vizard family is a family of inventors doesn’t mean that we don’t know how to fight,” Zero told the kicking and screaming Draycos as he walked to the door, carrying Draycos with him.

“Hey, Poseidon! Are you just gonna let this creep take me away like this?!” Draycos yelled, still struggling to escape Zero’s grasp. It was no use; the dragon had gotten a strong grip on his belt and some of the fabric of his pants. Zero threw Draycos over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and exited the office.

“Have fun with Zero today, Draycos,” Poseidon chuckled from his desk, not making any effort to answer Draycos’s pleads. “See you tonight after you finish your training today.”

“Poseidon?!” Draycos’s cry was cut off as the door closed behind them.