The Dragon and the Princess
Chapter 8: The Dragon and The Sorcerer

“New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.”

A few weeks passed, a lot of it spent with the dragon sitting in the dark, sleeping and smoking many herbs and drinking lots of potion. A very dark depression had descended on him and he was at war with himself. Yet again, he felt he had failed, and this time it was a great failure. So much for loving his fellow creature. “But you had to be true to yourself,” he thought, “she tricked you, it’s not your fault, how could anyone have done any differently? You loved her and thought you had a chance for the both of you to be happy, you thought she loved you too, it would have been ok if things had worked out…the wizard had brought this on himself, you were just an unsuspecting pawn in other people’s games…” “And yet…you’re supposed to be a golden dragon, you idiot! You are supposed to be above all this! Clearly the princess wasn’t for you, or she would have been with you and not the wizard in the first place, where was your faith? He was your friend and you stole that which was precious to him. It doesn’t matter that she said they had broken up, clearly, you knew that it wasn’t over, and one cannot be with a best friend’s mate without losing that friend. At best you should have waited for everything to blow over, but you rushed in, didn’t you dragon? You thought, with your ego, that this was your chance, you didn’t really care about the wizard’s feelings, did you? As though it was some test…some game to see if you should stop being so loving and take what was rightfully yours…but you gave up the real gold for some greater pot elsewhere, which turned out to not be gold at all. You lost the gold of doing the right thing and took the fool’s gold of selfishness. Idiotic dragon!”

He lambasted himself further, “and now, look at you, alone, friendless and in a worse state than before…” “...but how could I have known? I thought it was the right thing to do, or I wouldn’t have done it. I thought, this was my time! It made sense, both of us in love with each other, but her with him, used and abused, and not treated as a princess. I would have been what she wanted, and she was what I wanted, my love I seek so keenly. I am no bad dragon, just a stupid one,” he countered, “what actually happened? I had held off for so long and then handed what I wanted on a plate, how could I, or anyone, have done differently?” And then, a little deeper, and he saw it, “I thought the wizard had not been a good friend, so I stopped being a good friend to him.”

Many weeks passed like this, with the dragon wrestling with himself, the past and what he had done; going over and over it all in his mind. He eventually settled on the idea that he had not maliciously done a bad thing, but that he had done one nonetheless. He certainly had spoiled his legend. He also looked over all his memories with the wizard, and felt a little justified, as the wizard hadn’t been that great a friend, on balance. But he also felt bad overall, he did have a good friend in the wizard, his only real friend perhaps, with all his faults, and now he missed this one true friend. Finally, he decided to get out of his cave and go for a walk, so he stepped out, squinting into the sunlight. Walking for some time, he came across the pirate, drunk, outside the village inn. “Dragon! How are you? I heard about your foolishness! Hahaha…” he chuckled, “not such a golden dragon anymore, I see, hahaha!”

The pirate, apart from not being very nice, had been the wizard’s first friend and he had always resented the dragon for stealing him away, so he was clearly enjoying this moment. “He hates you, you know?! Hahaha!” quaffing some more on his flagon of ale. “I suppose I deserve it,” the dragon replied confessing, “I messed up, I know.” “But I intend to fix it…tell me pirate, where is the wizard now?” “Oh, you won’t replace him, he’s gone back to the sorcerer’s kingdom, I wouldn’t go there, if I was you, bad magik is there, you wouldn’t last but a moment…” “I can do anything I please, pirate, The Creator is in my heart and on my side, and He will always support the right thing.” “The Creator!? Hahahahahaha, he doesn’t care about you, because he doesn’t exist, stupid dragon! No, this I know, as much as I know you are moronic for thinking it, hahaha, creator my pirate ass!” The dragon worried for the pirate, The Creator hears all, he knew, and he knew that He doesn’t like talk like this, it hurt his heart to hear it. But it wasn’t time to help the pirate now, he had to replace his old friend and, somehow, make things right. “Good luck to you pirate,” he said as he flapped his big wings and shot into the air, flying north, towards the sorcerer’s kingdom.

It was a long flight ahead, to the “Crease of The World,” where the sorcerer had his dark castle and world. He didn’t know very much about the sorcerer, no one did, hidden, as he was, behind the Middle Mountains (the proper name for the range that made up some of the dragon’s immediate world). He knew he was the wizard’s father and that, from information given by the wizard himself, he didn’t sound like a good creature at all. He was vain and arrogant and thought himself better than all creatures. He was also very proud and had made the wizard grow up in a tyrannical world, with little love or care and much attempt to make the wizard like the sorcerer. The wizard had rebelled and taken his home some way from the sorcerer’s kingdom, but still close to its shadow; seeking a better life. The sorcerer had therefore punished the wizard with a curse that only he could undo, one that put pride deep into the wizard’s heart, sowing a seed that would force the wizard to become a sorcerer, eventually. The wizard thus lost himself in potions, powders and revelry, to hold off the growth of the seed.

At that moment, as he was reviewing all this that he knew about the sorcerer, the dragon saw that he was near the wizard’s loft, high up on a mountain peak, and he tried to see inside, to see if he could see the wizard or some news of him. However, there was no sign of life or movement and all the lights were out, so, he continued on his journey, flying higher to get above the growing, taller mountains at the top of the range. They formed an impregnable wall around the sorcerer’s kingdom and limited the light and air that came from the rest of the dragon’s world. In fact, he felt like he was entering a new world, with little in common with the rest of the kingdoms.

The closer he got, the darker things became, with not even the sun, the stars or the moon able to pierce through the shadow of the sorcerer’s dark land. In the distance were black and heavy clouds, lightning occasionally flashing across the horizon and lighting them up, but providing no light down below. The air was thick and heavy and the dragon felt a little dizzy and confused, his head murky with slow moving and jumbled up thoughts. He started to think darkly, with fearful and twisted ideas entering his head. “Why am I doing this? What’s the point, this is stupid; I am stupid!? I’m going to my demise…what am I doing? To hell with the wizard and his evil father, I wish they would just go away!” But he knew, despite these being his own thoughts, that he didn’t stand by them, not deep down inside, and that, is all that matters. So, he flew on.

As he got closer to his destination, he couldn’t think straight at all, so he decided to not even try and let his mind flow on its own, with his conscious, true self, instead looking down upon the sorcerer’s kingdom; the castle glowing and growing menacingly and eerily in the distance. There was no life here, no creatures or villages; there was nothing but dark, jagged rocks, smoke and bad smells. Everywhere felt dead, almost, a feeling in the air of fright and trepidation, the ambience electrifying, but electricity of paralysis, not movement or life. He was feeling much disorientated, sleepy now, and as though the fire was being sucked out of his belly and into the air around. There was also a spooky sound, a crunchy, humming and high pitched wail, maybe with a whistle or hum, he wasn’t sure. It seemed to be coming from all around, but particularly from the nearer and nearer sorcerer’s castle. This, he could see now, was also made from dark and jagged rocks, with a big entranceway blocked by more of the same sharp and teeth like granite. A red glow coming from the windows and entrance. The dragon was starting to feel very, very afraid. His head hurt and he felt weakened. But, he still continued.

Landing clumsily in front of the fang like entrance, he was glad he had arrived at last, as he didn’t think he could fly anymore. He sat down on the ground and tried to recover some his strength. He tried to get his fire going again in his belly, but he couldn’t feel it anymore. Then he tried to remember some of his magic, but his mind was blank. Just keeping himself conscious was taking all his strength and he had none to spare for magic anyway. The sound he had heard from a distance was now nearly deafening, coming from inside the dark castle, and he felt like his head was going to explode. Above all, his heart hurt, as though it was broken and dying, and the more he sat there, the worse it all got. The golden dragon tried to get up to climb the sharp rocks of the entrance, but he had no strength left, he felt like he was stuck in a swamp and he was getting sucked down lower. He fell back and collapsed on the floor, one hand stretched in front of him, desperately looking for something to hold onto and pull himself forward. He was losing consciousness now and his breathing was hard and heavy, he could feel himself slip away. There was the sound in his head of something tearing and then there was blackness.

He awoke to an argument happening above his head. “No, you’re doing it wrong, you’ve got to lift his head up and then get him to drink.” “Shut up, angel face, I know what I’m doing!” came a gruff reply. The dragon vaguely recognised both the voices. He was being forced to drink something, it was thick, warm and tasted like blood. But, it felt good to drink. After a while, once he had had a few mouthfuls, he felt a little strength returning and he could finally open his eyes. Holding the dragon’s head, with rough and crusty hands, was the daemon from before, trying to coax more of the liquid into his mouth. The strange “man” from The Land of ‘Those Who Submit’ was standing, worried looking, behind him; he could see now that he was indeed, an angel, not a man at all. Looking again at the daemon, he was shocked he was being held by it, and he tried to get up and say the magic words, but he still didn’t have enough strength to do anything but move his eyes. The daemon, sensing his surprise, said “Don’t worry dragon, you don’t need to speak to me like that here, this is my home, I came from here, long ago. Keep drinking!”

The golden dragon didn’t understand but he relaxed a little, the daemon clearly meant him no harm, at least not right now, he could feel that clearly. He looked questioningly at the angel, seeking some sort of answer or sense. “Drink the mortal blood, dragon, and then you will feel better, and we will talk,” it answered with a loving smile. The dragon drank. A while later, he felt strong again, he could feel his fire return and he had strength enough to stand up. They were all a little away from the castle’s entrance, behind a big boulder. He stood and looked around, trying to get his bearings and replace some sense in all this. Eventually he turned to the daemon and angel and said “What is going on?” The daemon and the angel looked at each other and laughed. “Haha, don’t worry, dragon, everything is going to be good!” said the angel. Come sit with us, and we will tell you some of the secrets. He went and joined the now sitting daemon and angel.

“We can’t tell you everything, that is for The Creator to do, when you are worthy enough to see Him, but for now we can tell you this...” the angel began, “the sorcerer is very bad indeed, well, not bad, there isn’t really any such thing, but, he is very confused.” “His kingdom is also very evil, full of bad feelings, lost hopes, stolen dreams, the hate of the fellow creature, and lots and lots of similar bad, bad magik. Well again, not bad, just misused. For in truth, there is no evil, bad or wrong, just better or worse, or focussed incorrectly. But he is adding to the “bad” magik, increasing its potency. He is planning something, and he is growing in power, and he means to be above The Creator and he will destroy the world, though he thinks he will save it. It is not time for you to be here yet dragon, you are not strong enough yet, and you cannot last long here, not as a legendary golden being. The blood you drank, is the blood of mortality, for only by being “normal” can you stay here for any length of time. We can transcend all this, but you cannot, not yet. We have been watching you, your whole life you know, both of us.”

The daemon smiled and chimed in, “I’m your guardian daemon and that’s your guardian angel,” he laughed, “don’t you remember us?” The dragon replied and told about the two times they had met before, the daemon on the mountain and the angel in The Land of ‘Those Who Submit.’ “No, no! Before that?! You don’t recognise us?” He thought hard and long, they did seem familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on any specifics and shook his head. “No matter, just know that The Creator smiles upon you, and we are very happy too” the daemon replied, smiling. “Anyway, we are always with you dragon, the “good” and the “bad”, always by your side, whether you know it or not,” the angel continued, “you can’t be here yet, dragon, it was wrong of you to come. You must go back, before the mortal blood wears off.” “I cannot, I have come to make amends with my friend, and surely I have come to save him too, now I see that. If what you tell me is true, I have to take him away with me,” said the dragon.

“He is lost now dragon, you cannot save him,” the angel replied, “the princess, as you now know, she wasn’t a princess at all, she was in fact a daemon, the worst kind, the one that hates The Creator and works against him.” “I work for The Creator you see, many of us daemons do, for all come from Him,” the daemon interrupted, “Yes, yes,” the angel said quickly, “but it’s not time for him to know that yet! What you do have to know is that the princess was actually working for the sorcerer, sent by him, trying to get that seed to grow…and she did it, it worked, she broke the wizard’s heart, using you along the way, and now the seed is growing. He has come back here to be with his father; that is how much the seed has grown, you know how he couldn’t stand to be with him before, but all is different now dragon, the clock has moved. You must trust us that it is over for him now, at least for the moment, you will get your chance though; you will be back here, one day. All is going to plan.”

The dragon could still barely make sense of all this. “I have to try!” he shouted. The angel and daemon looked at each other knowingly, “We thought you’d say that dragon, but you can’t fix everything, all you can do is just trust it will get fixed along the way.” “There’s things greater than you going on right now dragon, you have to get back to your path of joy and love, away from this dark place.” “I’m sorry,” the dragon replied determinedly, “my mind is made up, I’m going into the castle, at least to see what is going on in there, you can give me some more of the blood to help me, let me look and then if I can do nothing, I will fly home.” The angel and daemon both smiled at each other knowingly again. The angel reached out its hand with a beautiful and ornate gold vial in it. “Take this, it’s better than the mortal blood, when the right time comes, drink it all and fly away as hard and as fast as you can!” it warned, “Don’t dally, just turn and fly! Remember, you are mortal for a time now, you can be harmed greatly by what is here!” “Ok, ok, I will do as you say,” the dragon obediently answered, and took the vial, gripping it tightly in his dragon hands.

He turned to look at his goal, the red lit, growling doorway of the castle, and then turned back to say goodbye to the angel and the daemon. They were gone though, as if they had evaporated into the thick, heavy air of this terrible place. He stepped forward and started his short walk, treading lightly and not without a lot of fear. He climbed the jagged rocks, heaving himself up and scrambling all the way. He got to the top and crouched down, trying to peer into the scarlet tinged darkness of the sorcerer’s castle. He couldn’t see much ahead and so he looked down, it was quite a drop below, he could barely see the floor. “Well here goes nothing,” he said bravely to himself, and he jumped down.

It was still dark, but he could see better now he was inside. He could make out a large room ahead, the hallway he was in only led to there, torches on the walls with red flames instead of fire leading the way. He started walking forward. The noise he had heard, thanks to the mortal blood, was less deafening, but it grew louder as he got closer to this room. It too was lit up brightly with these red flames. He tiptoed forward, closer and closer, hiding just behind the opening when he got there. He peeped in. Inside was a great cavernous room, made of the same dark rocks from outside, with strange and ugly drawings and images on the walls and ceiling. There was a huge fire in the centre of the room, also of red flames, and a thick black smoke emanating upwards and out a small chimney in the middle of the roof.

Around the fire were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of daemons, with some other creatures too, they all looked in a trance and were circling the fire, taking a few steps and then bowing to it and continuing round like this, as if performing a weird and scary dance. At the head of the room was a tall and evil looking man, dressed all in black with a black and red cloak across his shoulders. The dragon surmised this was the sorcerer. He was staring into a cauldron and muttering some words into it, the words were not pretty at all and sounded horrible, though he could not make out what was said. The wizard was standing next to him, stirring the cauldron, also wearing black, with the same coloured cape as the sorcerer. The princess, who was now in her true daemonic form, was standing just behind the wizard, whispering into his ear. The wizard looked like he was in a trance too, and the dragon could barely recognise his friend. At this moment, the sorcerer turned around and looked directly at the dragon. He felt the fire drain from his belly again, and he felt his legs weaken.

His face was truly terrifying. It was fixed in a grimace, as though he was in great pain, and yet he was smiling. His eyes were blacker than the darkest night, more like holes that captured the light. No one else moved, or noticed the dragon at all, even the princess was still whispering into the hypnotized wizard’s ear. The sorcerer was just staring at the dragon, with these frightening eyes, and it was as though time stood still. The dragon could feel all his fire, essence and soul being drawn into these eyes, his life was being sucked out of him. He saw something there, in the sorcerer’s eyes. He collapsed down onto his knees, not able to stop looking back at the sorcerer.

Quickly, realising he was in trouble, with the little movement he had left, he pulled off the stopper of the vial he was holding and drank its contents. Immediately, he was able to look away from the sorcerer, and he could feel his power return to his legs. He got up, turned and flapped his great wings, leaping into the air and out back into the night, not once looking again at that horrifying scene. He flapped and flapped and went as fast as he could, but his energy was still greatly sapped, and he felt as though he was fighting off a trance. He could barely see, a blur blocking clear vision, and he felt like he was flying in glue. The dragon persevered, however, and tried to keep his eyes open and keep moving forward. He was getting away slowly and could just about make out the wizard’s loft in the distance before the sleep engulfed him and he plummeted to the ground, landing in a heap on the floor.