The Third Red 1: The Enemy Within
Chapter 4 Dragons for Dinner

Margery made Eric some breakfast, then he felt so tired, he collapsed onto bed, never happier to be home.

“Just two more days,” he said as he began to doze off.

“Yes Eric. Only two more days,” Margery confirmed. “Well, at we’ll have Dragons for dinner. I mean… coming for dinner!”

Eric reopened his eyes and looked at her.

“Dragons for dinner?” Eric repeated.

The words hung in the air and they both laughed at the thought of having dragons for dinner, as in eating them. They were having dragons as guests for dinner.

“I hope not tonight. Had enough excitement-” Eric yawned. “-for one day. Let’s not have dragons coming for at least one more.”

He yawned again and said, “Night.”

Margery chuckled. “It’s morning my son!”

He went to sleep all the same. A few hours went by and he woke up. Eric sat up and rubbed his eyes. He saw his mother sitting in a homemade chair reading one of her books. Getting to his feet, he walked over to the book pile as well, scanning the volumes for something to read, Rise of Rayzar, Days with Dragons, Guide to Power.

Eric shook his head at those. Then he grinned as he saw his favorite book. Oserus and Verida. A romantic story by Willard Spearpen, a famous writer from centuries ago. Eric picked it up and was about to begin reading when-

“Oh, you’re awake!” Margery said as she looked up. “Alright, time for your weapon lesson!”

Eric groaned. “Can’t I read first?”

“No! We were supposed to do this first thing in the morrow. Your books will still be there when you come back. Though I’m glad you spend so much time with them.”

“Not like I have anything better to do on this stupid island,” Eric grumbled.

“Eric, watch your mouth!” Margery scolded. “Come on!”

Eric sighed and put his book down. He followed Margery as she picked up her twin daggers before walking outside. She handed him her primary dagger. The one made of simple steel. It was less shiny that its silver coated sorsteel counterpart. Both were enchanted with shapeshifting and nature sorcery. The dagger guards were engraved with symbols, small squares holding the glyphs for each power, a human torso and a tree. Between them was the Yagaro crest. A sorcerer with either power could use the enchantment which resided in both small sapphires on the pommels.

As Eric took the dagger, he felt tempted to transform it with his nature sorcery. But he knew the drill. He would practice with the dagger by itself first.

“You need to be proficient with as many weapons as possible. Its fine to prefer one over the others, but you might lose the weapon you prefer, you must be ready,” Margery said the day she’d begun his training.

Eric fell into one of the dagger stances. The Front Blade stance, keeping it out in front of him. Ready to strike. His right foot forward, his left arm and leg hanging back. He stood there for a moment, then let out a shout and struck. He performed the series of strikes Margery had taught him. Diagonal down to the left, to the right, mid left, mid right, upward diagonal left, up right, and straight down. Thrust! Bash with the pommel.

Eric reached out and grabbed an invisible foe then stabbed. Dagger users often took advantage of a free hand, using it to grapple their opponents. Eric seethed. Practicing his fighting techniques at least allowed him to blow off some steam at his frustration of being stuck here. Breathing rapidly, he practiced his dagger moves in both straight and reverse grips, then switching hands and repeating the process.

After he did it around five times each, Margery pointed her finger at him and cast a spell.

“Viset e contel hokal,” See and feel a foe.

Her illusion took effect and generated a foe for Eric to fight. A hooded thief wielding a dagger of his own appeared a few feet away in front of the river. Eric fell back, assuming a more defensive stance with his free hand and corresponding foot out in front to enable better grappling.

“Give me your gold, noble!” the illusionary thief demanded.

He came at Eric, striking with his dagger. The sorcerer boy was ready, he grabbed the wrist holding the dagger as it came toward him, stopping inches from his face. Eric then stabbed the thief who gagged and fell before vanishing.

“Good,” Margery said. “Now you can use the sword.”

Eric smiled. Now was the time to activate the daggers enchantment. He held it up straight and spoke the incantation.

“Lo baki graka hal.” Short blade grow long.

He ran his sorcery up the blade as he said the incantation, the short blade of the dagger grew. The metal blade and its handle stretching out and enlarging to form an arming sword. This was a weapon favored by Eric’s family, the Yagaro. Arming swords were typically one handed, allowing the wielder to more easily use a shield to defend themselves.

“Here,” Margery said as she handed Eric her second dagger.

Eric took the sorsteel weapon in his left hand. Unlike its steel counterpart, this blade was not capable of growing into a sword. The forging process for sorsteel, running sorcery over the hot metal, prevented it from being able to have any other sorcery channeled through. Though the wooden handle could still grow to form a spear. Eric, however, kept it in its dagger form. A spear would be too unwieldly and long to use in conjunction with a sword. He positioned it in front of himself at head level, ready to block incoming attacks while he used the sword to attack. He took a breath and let it out. Then he moved. Keeping the dagger close to himself, he practiced the blocks. This would prepare him for when he used a shield someday. He swung and parried, parried and swung. Blocked and countered.

After he did several sequences, Margery sent another foe upon him.

“Viset e contel hokal.” See and feel a foe.

Same incantation but a different image appeared. This time it was a swordsman in dark clothing with symbols of horned monsters. A Demorian, the sworn enemies of the Sorcerer Kingdom who were bent on conquering it.

“Bow to the demons of Panarus!” the illusion said.

Eric didn’t reply, there was no point in talking to something he knew to be fake. The Demorian charged at him. The first time Eric faced this illusion he had been unable to keep up and received a several painful feelings from the sword. That was all they were though, feelings. He’d never actually even been scratched by a blade. At least not a real one.

This at least made good practice. Eric raised the dagger, blocking the Demorian’s blade. He spotted a weakness in a moment but didn’t go for it. He needed to practice blocking as much as offense, this foe could not really harm him. He would let it live for a few more strikes. This Demorian was just a simple soldier. It would have been easy for Eric to defeat him, if he were allowed to use sorcery. But that would not be fair.

Do not use sorcery against a non-sorcerer.

This was one of the tenets of the Soron Knights code. They fought with honor and would not resort to a dirty trick against someone who didn’t have sorcery to fight them as an equal. While it was frowned upon to do so, generally this rule wasn’t exactly required like more serious ones. Unless if sorcery was used on an innocent person.

The illusionary steel clashed against the true steel as Eric blocked half a dozen blows with the dagger, and at least one with the sword. The Demorian struck low at Eric’s legs and he had to step back, guarding legs with the sword was hard. Better to just to retreat. He did for an instant, then he went on the offensive, giving a wide swing of his sword. The Demorian blocked, but Eric was quick to follow up! He thrusted with the dagger and it was the Demorian’s turn to step back out of range. Eric took another step and swung low. He caught the Demorian’s leg, causing a deep cut. The Demorian fell to his knees, grasping the wound. Eric gazed at him for a moment and then… lowered his weapons. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, the desire to finish the foe off. Some might have killed a downed Demorian with little regard, but Eric would stick with the path of honor.

Do not kill a helpless opponent, that was another tenant of the code.

“Good,” Margery praised. “You defeated that foe, but don’t drop your guard. A real one might continue to try fighting even after an injury.”

“Right,” Eric said.

Now it time was to fight with a two-handed sword. Eric put the sorsteel dagger down to free that hand.

“Baki graka.” Blade grow.

The arming sword grew to a longsword, which had a handle wide enough for both hands. Eric swung, with the use of two hands the blade was faster and stronger. Eric threw one blow after another, his right hand on the handle guiding the blade, while his bottom left rotated the pommel, giving the speed. He moved fast, though he doubted he was going as fast as a Soron Knight. They could use their Greater Body power to increase their speed to a level that their strikes appeared as a blur.

“Viset e contel hokal.” Margery said a final time.

Eric took a deep breath to prepare himself for this one. A Soron Knight! He stood there in full plate armor with the coins showing the five symbols of the Patrons on his breastplate. His helmet had a fist at the top. He carried a sword as well.

Eric had faced this one before. It was a tough foe. He had to hit the Soron Knight in the right spot, as the illusion mimicked the durability and defense provided by the armor of a real knight. He’d have to strike at the gaps in the armor. It would be tough, one wrong move, and his mother would count it as a loss. But he knew something else besides the sword would be better suited against this foe.

“Rond circo!” Turn back.

The longsword shrunk back to its dagger form. With a quick movement of his fingers, Eric turned it around in a reverse grip, its pommel facing up.

“Capa graka!” Head grow.

He channeled sorcery not into the blade. But the pommel, it grew into a heavy piece of metal while the blade shrunk. It was now a mace, one of the more effective weapons for dealing with armored foes.

Just in time, the illusion Soron Knight charged at Eric as his body glowed. Eric leapt back and raised a hand.

“Fyra!”

Fire shot from his hand at the Soron Knight who put up a sorcery shield to block it. His sorsteel armor would protect him from physical attacks and core sorcery, but not elements like fire or lightning.

“Die Nature Dog!” the knight shouted.

Eric felt a sting at the insult. Even though they were allies in today’s era, nature and beast sorcerers had once mortal enemies with the Soron Knights. Two thousand years ago, before the war with the Demorians. In that time, Rayzar the Red had united all sorcerers together and brought peace.

Still, this usage of the old insults made for a good simulation. The knight charged him again. Eric used to flinch in fear at this foe which he’d struggled against and could never seem to defeat for weeks. This was by far the strongest illusionary foe his mother could create for him. He recalled a couple months ago.

Eric groaned in pain as he felt the illusionary knight’s sword slash him. It only lasted a second, but it was agonizing. He was at least not cleaved in two, but it did cause him to go numb. He’d managed to get three hits on the knight but his foe still stood hardly a scratch. It was frustrating. He just couldn’t keep up no matter how much he tried.

“Fyra gola kodu!” Fire guard me.

Fire erupted around Eric. Now that Soron Knight couldn’t get close without risking a burn. They depended on close combat with their Greater Body. The Soron Knight stopped with a grunt and took a step back. Eric smirked at him, now it was his turn to get close. He dashed, the fire moving with him. The knight stepped back with a shout and swung his sword. Eric blocked with his mace’s handle, the illusionary blade clashing against the wooden handle that had grown with the pommel. If this were the real deal the mace might been cut in two by now.

Eric blocked the attack, and-

Bang!

With both hands on the mace, he’d broken the knight’s helmet and cracked his skull. The knight collapsed and vanished. Eric sighed contently. It was almost over.

“Rond circo!”

At Eric’s command, the weapon reverted again to its normal dagger form. Just one more shape.

“Flor Graka!” Wood grow.

The wooden handle of the dagger grew into a long shaft while the dagger blade remained the same. Eric now held a spear like the one he’d lost. Spears were by far the most common arm in the Sorcerer Kingdom as they were cheap and easy to make. Eric did the initial exercises, ready to get this over with. He stabbed at the stomach, both sides of the chest, legs and head all in quick succession.

“Excellent!” Margery said once he finished his last thrust. “You’ve memorized all the moves and incantations. But now you must prove your skill.”

Eric shuddered. Now he had to face her. His own mother, who claimed to be strongest woman in the Sorcerer Kingdom after only Queen Razana. She smirked and pointed her finger at him once again. She spoke slowly which added to Eric’s nervousness.

“Viset… Rayzar’s… Ring!” See Rayzar’s Ring.

This time it wasn’t an illusion to generate a foe. Now she’d put him under an illusion of him being somewhere else. The jungle around them vanished and they found themselves inside a circular arena. Rayzar’s Ring in Sortar. The arena named for the first King who had united the entire sorcerer kingdom two thousand years ago. This was where classes on weaponry were held and warriors like Eric could prove themselves, not that he really wanted to. Stands stood above Eric held crowds of illusionary people that were crying his name.

“Eric! Eric! Eric! Eric!”

He turned to face his opponent. Margery stood there in her full Maiden of Mayhem garb, a gray robe over a dress of sormail. In her hands she held an illusionary copy of her weapon in longsword form. At her side she also had a copy of her sorsteel dagger. Eric, meanwhile, held not her dagger in spear form like he did in the physical world, but a red handled version of it. No doubt he would receive a weapon like this someday. He also had on a red outfit with his own sormail underneath. The illusion was so complete Eric could hear the metal rings of the mail as he moved and felt the metal on his body. These were feelings Margery was used to.

“You ready son?” she asked.

Eric looked at her blankly and shrugged.

“Well, if I must. Rondo circo! Lo baki graki hal.” Turn back. Short blade grow long.

The spear shrunk back down and was quickly replaced with the long metal blade of a sword. Eric raised it high and faced her. Mother and soon stood there gazing into each other’s eyes, swords drawn. Then Margery charged, both hands on her sword. As she had taught Eric to do, she used her top right hand to guide, and her bottom left on the pommel. Her blade approached Eric from his left, as soon as he blocked, she used her pommel hand and went for the other side. Eric barely managed to block the raw speed of the attack, but he did manage and then retaliated, going low toward her leg.

She jumped back, avoiding the attack with seeming ease. Eric smiled in admiration. His mother was amazing. Her reflexes and skill were so sharp, the strength of her blows lethal. He remembered when she first began training him when he’d turned ten, besting him so many times. Now he could almost hold his own against her.

Almost, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

Margery let out the war-cry of a Maiden of Mayhem and sprinted back at him. Eric felt a chill run down his spine, but he held his ground and didn’t look away or flinch. He’d made that mistake in the past and allowed her to catch him off guard. It took all his willpower but he kept his eyes open and watched as the blade came up toward his side. He parried and went on the offensive, striking high. By some stroke of luck, he caused her to drop her sword. It fell to the stone floor with a clatter She stepped back as he stood there.

He stalled for a couple precious seconds. By the time he recovered and got ready to ‘finish her off’ she had drawn her dagger in a reverse grip. She put it over her forearm and blocked Eric’s strike on it. Then with her free hand, she took hold of his wrist… leaving him trapped!

And she jabbed him with her dagger!

Blood spurted from Eric and the illusion broke. Then they were back in the jungles of Dragoran. Eric stood holding Margery’s dagger still in spear form in only his loincloth and she a few feet away, unarmed in her two-piece animal skins.

Eric sighed.

“I lost,” he stated.

“Yes, but you did very well for facing a master swordswoman!” Margery said. “If only I were recognized as one!”

Her boastful smile fell. Even as skilled as she was, the men of the Sorcerer Kingdom refused to grant Margery a golden belt buckle with the weapon symbols of the patrons. That would have marked her as a Master of Arms. The buckle on the belt she kept with her real set of armor had steel instead, showing she had some skill at least. The Soron Knights refused to acknowledge a woman as a master of battle. Eric frowned at this notion. He’d learned everything about weaponry from his mother. The men of the Sorcerer Kingdom were just arrogant.

Maybe someday he could change how they treated woman.

Their training complete, they returned to their cave and Eric finally got a chance to re-read Willard Spearpen’s play, Oserus and Verida.

“Oh, how I’ve missed my wonderful city!” Eric recited the first lines of Oserus aloud. He’d read this play so often he knew Oserus’s lines by heart.

Such as, the next one in which he spoke to his Lend Hand. “Not at all Amar. The honor is mine! Soon we shall be at the King’s Palace and he shall then reward me for slaying all those terrible demons. I shall be a Sorcerer Lord with my own castle soon enough. When you become strong you shall become one of the first knights in my service.”

Thanking the king for rewarding him. “Your good wishes are very welcome, Sire.”

Eric read for a while, then set the book down and over at the cave walls for a clear spot to paint on. He found one next to a Demorian painting. Eric gathered his stones full of paint and stroked his chin, what did he want to paint? Then he remembered he wouldn’t be living here much longer. This day was nearly done. The sun was beginning to set outside, then just two more days here. What would be the point in painting something if he never saw it again?

“Something wrong, Eric?” Margery asked, noticing his hesitation.

“We’re leaving soon. Am I ever going to see this place again?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know,” Margery confessed.

“Then I don’t see much point in a new painting on the wall right now. I can’t take it with me,” Eric said.

His mother was silent for a moment, thinking. For a while they were silent then Margery snapped her fingers, “Aha! I have it! You can make something to take back to Sortar to remember your time here!”

“I could?” Eric’s face lit up before he paused. “But what should I make?”

“Well, what do you want?” Margery asked.

Eric looked around the cave. He had carved cups and statues. If he was going to make something to remember his time here on Dragoran, it should be practical. Something he could take with him and use. Then he spotted the symbol of his family painted on one of the walls, a shield with the letter Y on it.

“Can I make a shield out of wood?” he asked.

“Of course. Wooden shields aren’t as strong as metal but… wait! I have an idea!” Margery said.

She walked over to the chest in which she kept her collection of dragon scales, acquired from the same dragon whose fang Eric used as a dagger. The one that attacked them when Eric was young. Margery also saved some red scales shed by Rubara. She reached in and drew out a handful.

“I can make a paste and glue these onto your shield. It would be very light, and with these scales covering it, harder than the strongest steel.”

Eric got to work on making his shield. He rolled a large log into the cave from the pile Rubara kept outside.

“What shape do you want it to be?” Margery asked before Eric began.

Eric pointed to the painting of the kite shaped shield on the wall. “That one.”

Conjuring a sorcery blade with his finger, he carved out the shape carefully on the top of the stump as Margery watched.

“It needs to be long enough to protect you from at least shoulder to waist and thick enough to stop a sword. Even if we line it with dragon scales it shouldn’t be too thin.”

Eric made the shape, carving out the edges with his blade. Once he finished, Margery took a homemade stone axe and undermined his shield from the rest of the log. Eric sheathed his sorcery blade, as it cut too well and would damage the wood now. Now taking one of her daggers, he cut in some designs along the three corners meant to remind him of this place which had been his home. The mouth of the cave they lived in, trees like the ones in the jungle, and a dragon reminiscent of Rubara. He then dipped his hand in blue paint to make the Yagaro Y in the center, but Margery told him to use red.

“It’s traditional for the family letter to be the same color as your first sorcery core.”

He washed the blue off and switched to red. After he made the Y in the center, his mother applied a coat of paste to the area around it. Then they pressed down blue dragon scales on top of the paste. After that, they took the larger red scales that once belonged to Rubara and inserted them on top of the Y. To finish, Eric covered the edges with more red paint. Now he had a magnificent shield with designs that reminded him of home as well as his heritage.

Margery smiled at his work. “It is beautiful. When we get to Sortar we can get a handle for it and enchant it. Then it shall be fit for a hero!”

“Who knows if I’m going to be a hero though?” Eric wondered aloud.

“Oh, you will be,” Margery promised. “You are destined to be.”

“What?”

Before Margery could answer, a loud thud sounded. They looked towards the cave entrance and saw Rubara coming in.

“Granny Ruby you’re back!” Eric shouted in delight.

“Did you enjoy seeing your grandchildren?” Margery asked.

“Yes, they are quite healthy. And Liteera will be visiting her brothers and sisters to invite them here tomorrow.”

“Oh… wonderful,” Margery said with a nervous smile. “I suppose we’ll need a lot of meat. What we have left in the ice pile won’t be enough for guests. I must say… I never thought we would have any here!”

“I shall hunt as much as I can in the morrow,” Rubara said.

***

The next day Eric went about his usual routine. He bathed, then had a breakfast of venison and island fruits, then a ride with Granny Ruby. A more normal ride. It had been three days since they’d last flown together like this. The time from two days ago had been short and not as much fun since she’d only brought him back after his sneaking off and he’d been prohibited from another ride that day. And he wouldn’t have to worry about falling off as much as on Liteera.

“Ready!” he told Rubara eagerly once he climbed up the saddle and strapped himself in.

Rubara spread her wings and with a few flaps rose into the air. Eric felt the whirlwind, so strong it caused the nearby trees to sway. Rubara rose above them and flew out across the jungle of Dragoran. Eric looked down at the ground, seeing endless greenery for a time. Wind brushed against his face as he grinned in excitement. Then Rubara turned skyward, Eric felt himself being pulled back by gravity, his back pressed against the top of the seat. The only thing keeping him from falling out were the straps of leather tied around all four of his limbs.

Rubara climbed high then dove back toward the ground. Eric shouted in exhilaration as he felt the wind pushing against him harder than ever. Before they could hit, Rubara pulled up. She continued to fly, up and down, in circles, even upside down. Eric grinned, letting out a whoop of thrill as she performed some of the maneuvers. Soon they came out of the jungle’s endless greenery, passed over the mountain Eric climbed to see the sea, and over it as well. Eric saw other dragons flying nearby. Rubara kept a reasonable distance from them. Though Eric felt certain she was larger than most, his grandmother didn’t wish to initiate any unnecessary confrontations. She only attacked for sustenance or self-defense.

Once they were a good way out Rubara turned around and made her way back, performing more aerial acrobatics as she did so. Soon she landed with a thud in front of the cavern. Once Eric got off, she went back out to hunt. A while later she returned with her first two catches, a buffalo in her hind legs and a deer in her mouth. When she appeared in front of the cave entrance, Eric got to his feet and hoisted the deer inside with his mother while Rubara brought in the buffalo. He took the deer over to the ice pile they used to keep their meats fresh.

“There’s no need for that,” Margery said. “We’ll be eating them soon. Or at least our dragon guests will. Any meats that’s left over from our feast well… we’ll eat what we can tomorrow then leave the rest for the vultures.”

The hours passed by as they waited. Eric busied himself with reading, art, or a little sword and sorcery practice. When the sun fell low on the horizon Eric sat on the large rock by the river with Rubara. They watched the sky until finally… they came. Three dragons. Eric recognized Liteera in the middle, with two other dragons of comparable size flying next to her. One red like Rubara, but its horns, stomach and wing membranes were trimmed gold like Liteera. The other had both Rubara’s colors, red and purple, but inverted, a purple body trimmed in red. Eric also noticed smaller creatures flying next to Liteera and the latter dragon. Babies no doubt. The three big dragons landed with enough force to knock Eric off his stone seat. He yelped as he fell and hit the ground.

“Ow!” he said, before sitting up just in time for a small purple baby to spring at him, Eric put his hands up to defend himself. “Whoa!”

“Remember me? You’re the human that got me out of that hole?” The baby said, stopping just short of him.

“Oh. Yes.” Eric looked around at the other baby dragons who squawked as they ran up and sniffed Margery and him.

“We have humans in our family!” one little dragon said as she jumped up on Eric’s shoulder and latched her claws in.

“Ouch!” Eric cried.

“Careful now, humans have soft skin. Don’t be too rough,” Liteera said.

Liteera’s siblings, two full-grown dragons Eric hadn’t seen before stepped forward with eyes focused on Rubara.

“Mother,” they said together.

Eric could tell by their voices that the red dragon was male while the purple was female like Rubara and Liteera.

“Firoar, Ametha,” Rubara greeted.

She stretched her neck out, not wanting to walk forward in case she stepped on the babies. She nuzzled the red dragon, Eric guessed he was Firoar, as that sounded like a male name. Then the purple dragon was Ametha.

“We missed you,” Firoar said. “Thought you might have been lost in a human war.”

“It takes more than a few humans to bring me down. Though I admit there were some close calls. But soon my debt will be paid and I shall return here. Only one more generation of Rikar’s offspring to look after. Once he has children, I can return home,” Rubara said looking at Eric.

Eric frowned as he heard that. Not if I don’t have any children. Then you’ll be with me all my life. He thought.

Rubara looked around. “Where are your other two siblings?”

“Oh, they moved to the north side of the island about a days flight. There was no time to get them today,” Liteera said.

“Pity,” Rubara said. “At least they are safe.”

The babies suddenly flew up onto Rubara’s back. To Eric’s surprise all of them fit. He tried to count how many there were but couldn’t keep track. They walked all over Rubara with room to spare.

“Momma! Look at me! I’m taller than you!” one atop Rubara’s head called out to either Ametha or Liteera.

Eric and Margery came up and introduced themselves. The male, Firoar, leaned down and looked at them with fiery eyes which sent fear into Eric as he beheld them.

“So, you two are the line of Rikar Speranos?” Firoar asked, sniffing each of them.

After smelling Eric, he said. “You smell as though you are half animal.”

“I’m a beast sorcerer,” Eric told him. “Makes me smell like an animal… and I have one living in my head.”

“Ah… the animal sorcerers that can speak to lesser creatures. I’ve heard of those,” Firoar said. “Just remember that we dragons stand at the top of the mountain. Count yourself fortunate to be in our family.”

Eric’s other dragon aunt, the purple Ametha came forward and smelled Eric as well. “If you are both descendants of Rikar, you are welcome with me. I knew Rikar very well, it was I who gave him much of the lore he needed from our kind. He told me much of what happened in his world as well. I’d love to hear what’s happened since then.”

Eric chuckled. “I’m sure Granny Ruby can tell you about that.”

“Oh, I would love to hear all about what’s happened to you since you’ve left mother!” Ametha said eagerly.

“Certainly… but I think someone needs to keep an eye on them!” Rubara said as she pointed with a claw to the cave. Eric looked and saw the younger dragons going inside.

“Oh dear,” Margery said. “I’ve seen what puppies can do to households. They tear up curtains and leave messes everywhere! Eric, would you mind keeping an eye on them?”

“Of course! How hard could it be?” Eric said.

He soon found out. Very hard.

His little dragon cousins scurried around the cave curiously, inspecting the paintings on the walls.

“No, don’t do that!” Eric screamed as one of them clawed at it, scraping off some of the paint. He picked the baby up and received a bite on the arm.

“Ouch! Stop!” he shouted as two more hatchlings started to chew on the cups he’d carved.

Splat! Another hatchling landed in his paint storing pots and was covered in blue rather than brown. Others landed on top of the ice pile and clawed at the surface, then blew fire onto it, partially melting it.

“No no no!” Eric yelled running about.

Every time he picked a dragon up to get it away from the mess it was creating, he received a bite or scratch. This wasn’t working at all. Eric couldn’t do this on his own. He needed help, so he created a sorcery manifestation of himself. It emerged from his body, a being that looked exactly like him except it was made of light energy.

“Guard mother’s things!” he commanded.

The manifestation went to perform its task. Eric himself sprinted to his side of the cave where a pair of babies were tearing up his bed.

“Stop that!” Eric yelled at them. “Do you not have any regard for someone else’s things?”

“We don’t have anything but bones in our cave! You have so many things!” one baby said.

“What’s this?” another asked as it shifted Eric’s new shield with its head.

“Get your hands… or claws… off of that!” Eric said. “It’s my shield! I just made it yesterday!”

“Are those dragon scales on it?”

“Aye,” Eric sighed as he picked it up. He had to save this at least. It was going to be his only memento of his time here.

“Hey! Look!”

He looked over to the other side of the room and saw his sorcery manifestation was under attack.

“It’s a magic monster!” one of the babies screamed. “Burn it! burn it!”

Many of the little dragons flew up and began to shoot flames at the glowing red figure resembling Eric. The real Eric, meanwhile, seized the opportunity to save his mother’s belongings… her books, jewelry, chest full of dragon scales, armor, and daggers. The only thing he really cared about preserving for himself was the shield.

Eric collapsed after gathering the last of his mother’s possessions into a pile. The baby dragons spit fire at his manifestation, which finally exploded in a shower of sparks. So far things were going rather poorly for Eric as he gazed around the cave.

“Eric, the meat is ready!” Margery’s voice called from the entrance.

Eric got to his feet in relief, the prospect of getting a meal and renewing his strength. “Come on! Time to eat!”

The baby dragons all walked with him to the large fire Margery used to cook the meats. Eric had never seen so much meat at once. This gave him an idea of a feast he might experience in Sortar when he got there. Margery expected Chosan Yagaro, Eric’s uncle, would throw one the day they returned to Sortar. He took a seat next to Rubara who still told her grown dragon children about her time with his human family.

“When Margery was born, we left our farm behind. Her father was not content with a life of farming and wanted more.”

As Rubara told the story, Eric gorged himself with the venison and listened. He knew the story Rubara told of his mother’s past. Everything except why they’d come here to Dragoran. “Margery married a man named Derair Yagaro and soon had a child. This little one here,” she looked down at Eric.

“But then how did you come to be here?” Ametha asked. “Please tell us.”

“After Eric was born, something dreadful happened. A demon named… Corgo… came to Sortar.” Rubara said the name with fear, and that caused Eric to shiver.

“C-Corgo?” Eric repeated. “I’ve read that name before. Isn’t he the demon that leads the Demorians?”

“Aye, he is the most evil and powerful demon of all,” Margery said. “And he is why we came here.”

She sighed as she looked at him. “It’s time you know what happened, son. I was planning to tell you soon, but I suppose the rest of you should know as well.”

Rubara continued her tale. “Corgo led his army to attack the commoners in the city. Derair left to do his “duty” of protecting strangers. But when he found out Corgo was attacking his home, he came back. I managed to buy him some time… but even I was no match for Corgo.”

“What?” Firoar said in astonishment. “He was stronger than you, mother? He must be very big then!”

“Nay, he is just slightly bigger than the tallest humans,” Rubara said.

This caused Firoar to laugh. The loud sound echoed. “You were bested by a puny thing only a bit bigger than a human? You must be getting old!”

Rubara huffed a bit of smoke from her nostrils. “Size does not always measure strength, my son. You know some sorcerers can hurt or even kill our kind if they put enough magic behind their spells. Demons from the world of Panarus never run out of magic, and this Corgo is particularly powerful. Nothing would work against him. My paws, teeth, or even fire breath caused him no harm.”

“What? Impossible!” Firoar said.

“Where is this demon now?” Ametha asked shivering slightly. “Is he still out there?”

“Nay. He’s here,” Margery touched her belly.

The dragons looked around in alarm.

“I see naught besides our babies!” Liteera said before glaring at Margery. “Are you trying to scare them with one of your human stories?”

“I wish it were only a story. You see… Corgo is trapped by a spell. Inside me.”

Margery pointed to her stomach where a white mark glowed on her skin. It had many crack lines on it. Eric felt a shiver as he looked at it, as though demon eyes were watching him through that mark.

“Soon… tomorrow in fact, he will be free,” Margery said.

“What?” Eric said in astonishment. “But tomorrow is when we are supposed to leave!”

Ametha looked at the mark closely. “This is certainly not a natural mark, it is magic. I can sense it… something evil is held by it.”

Firoar grinned, showing pointed teeth. “Well, let us help you face this demon when he is released!”

“No!” Margery said. “You would be killed!”

Firoar looked insulted. “Killed? Ha. Nothing can stand against a dragon! Much less a family of dragons!”

“Careful son,” Rubara said. “We are fierce creatures to be certain. But we are not invincible. This thing… it can’t be killed by fang or fire.”

“I don’t believe it!” Firoar said.

“I bit into it myself,” Rubara told her son with a look of disgust. “Its blood tasted foul and made me ill. The wounds my teeth inflicted healed, and my fire did not even singe him.”

“Corgo cannot be slain by the magic of a common sorcerer or even a dragon,” Margery said. “Even silver, the metal that cuts demons is useless against him. Instead of cutting him, it melts.”

“Then how do we get rid of him?” Eric asked.

“You,” Margery said looking at her son.

“Me?” Eric repeated, his eyes widening. “But you just said he can’t be killed by a common sorcerer.”

“You are far from common,” his mother said. “You wield a magic that is very rare and very powerful. The color of your first core, red, is only seen once every thousand years. It can do things no other sorcery is capable of doing. It can destroy Corgo. Which means you can.”