Chapter 64.4: Bonus Chapter: Hekate and the Dragon's Hoard Part 4

Chapter 64.4: Bonus Chapter: Hekate and the Dragon's Hoard Part 4

Hekate cuddles a crudely made straw doll that the little feldrok girl had when she was still a slave to Morthybargaron. She kept it tucked away in the small cubby hole in the wall of the stables, which continues to stink even months after the Keep was abandoned by the dragons.

Geirahoel watches Hekate treasure the loosely defined 'doll', her expression twisted with horror and disappointment. The dragon makes a mental note for herself to speak to Daniel immediately upon their return and ensure Hekate wants for nothing.

The orange dragon knew Hekate was abused, and she did nothing to defend the helpless child. However, seeing what Hekate was able to treasure, or rather, what she had to cling to in order to keep some form of her sanity and child-like hope; it all has Geirahoel deeply upset at herself, as well as all of the other dragons.

The fact that Hekate has not killed them all in revenge is not lost on Geirahoel, and never has it been more blatantly obvious in the dragon's mind.

“H-Hekate... m-may I?” murmurs the dragon finally. She's not really sure what she's saying or why, but it feels like the right thing to do.

The feldrok girl cocks her head, a little surprised. She smiles gently, however, and she hands the doll over gingerly.

Geirahoel holds it just as preciously, studying the doll for a moment. A few strands of straw were used to tie the parts that define its shape, making legs, arms, a head, and 'horns' or 'ears'. It's difficult to tell which. It looks like there's a face formed by dark finger smudges, as well as a simple round mouth. But, due to the filth, Geirahoel could just be seeing what she wanted to see on the doll.

She replied softly as she hands it back, “It's... cute. Did you make it yourself?”

Hekate shakes her head, still staring at the doll now that it’s returned, a placid smile spread across her face. “No. I just remember having it for as long as I can remember.” She touches its backside, saying softly, “It used to have a tail... But I lost it.” She pouts, seemingly recalling the event. “One of the stupid gulpoxen ate it.” She scoffs, grumbling a little sarcastically, “I hope he appreciated it when it happened to him.”

Geirahoel knows she should laugh. It’s funny enough that she normally would. But, she’s still hung up on the pitiful doll being Hekate’s one and only ‘treasure’ after all the time she spent being kicked around and ordered to do ridiculous things. No one, save the singular soul that created the doll, had even a shred of kindness to extend to a wretched little waif that didn’t deserve any of the cruelty she endured. She’s glad Hekate spoke up for the eggs. The little feldrok empress is right.

Geirahoel asks softly, “Does... the doll have a name?”

Hekate smiles with a light scoff, and Geirahoel cocks her head, a little confused. The feldrok girl continues to tug at the dragon’s heart strings. “No... I didn’t know that names were something that can just be given.” She smiles up at Geirahoel brightly, disarming the dragon. “I guess I’ll have to give her one, now.”

The auburn-haired woman smiles in return. “Certainly.”

“I’ll do it when I’ve had some time to think,” remarks Hekate as she puts the doll away in her bag. “I was worried she would be gone, so I didn’t really give it any thought.”

“No rush, I’m sure. I’m glad you were able to find it.”

Hekate nods proudly. “Mm-hmm! Thanks!”

The dragon still feels horrible guilt gripping her soul, but she keeps a neutral expression as Hekate looks around. “The acolytes really let this place go, didn’t they?” She snickers, adding facetiously, “Though, I guess it was one of my tasks, too...” She starts marching towards the tunnel they came in by, and Geirahoel watches for a moment. She takes one last look at the cubby hole that Hekate got stuck trying to climb into. A pitiful little nest for a mistreated child, and yet, she can still smile and laugh.

Maybe Hekate really is stronger than all of us...

***

Hekate exits her small little escape tunnel and back into the main corridor of the Dragon’s Keep. The air is instantly more fresh and relieving, and she takes a moment to appreciate it.

Geirahoel flops out of the tunnel, falling to her hands and knees as she pants heavily. “Finally... I... I think the smell is clinging to my clothes...”

“Mm-hmm. You get used to it. It’s everyone else that will just call you stinky.”

The feldrok girl makes the joke, but even now, she can feel the imposing pressure of the end of the hallway. She knows he’s not there. She watched Geirahoel incinerate all that remains of Morthybargaron, banishing him to oblivion.

And yet, she can’t shake the feeling that something foreboding is resting at the end of the hallway.

Geirahoel groans as she tries to brush herself off, climbing back to her feet. “I’ll never take... livestock... handlers for granted again.”

Hekate nods. “Mm-hmm. Hey, by the way...”

“What is it?” asks the orange dragon cautiously, sensing Hekate’s looming question.

“Do... you feel that?” Hekate points towards the ‘throne room’, and Geirahoel looks down the corridor in that direction. She studies everything she can, cocking her head a bit to listen as well, in case it’s something audible.

“Nothing that seems abnormal to me,” replies the young woman.

“I see... M-Maybe it’s just me...”

“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. This is your mission for closure.”

“I thought you wanted to come destroy stuff separately,” retorts Hekate.

Geirahoel rolls her eyes. “That was obviously a lie. Well, not really a lie... It was a convenient truth that gave me an excuse, but...” She smiles softly. “I didn’t want you to come entirely alone. Something’s been bothering you, and it’s something you apparently can’t tell Daniel.”

Hekate nods sheepishly. “I... don’t want him to worry. He has enough to deal with as it is.”

“We both know that he would drop everything if you needed him for something. He’d do the same for the rest of us, other than dropping whatever thing it is for you.”

Hekate looks to the side. “What if...?” She trails off, finally shaking her head as she abandons the question.

“I can’t help if you don’t ask,” replies Geirahoel.

The feldrok teen refuses gently. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry about it. It was a stupid question.” Hekate starts walking towards the throne room cautiously. She has her doll, she has Geirahoel, and she has Daniel’s equipment if she needs anything.

Daniel would tell me that I can do this, and then he’d lead the way. I need to make myself more useful, though, or he’ll leave me behind.

Geirahoel falls into step a couple of paces behind Hekate, observing the corridor curiously. “I never realized how big this place actually is.”

Hekate nods, her gaze fixated on the path ahead. Her ears pivot and tilt, listening all around them alertly. She barely heard Choul before he attacked, and anything could be lurking in the depths of Shaiulvalgarro’s Hoard. It was abandoned for months, other than the members of the Unity of the Great Dragons, but if a monster snuck in at night, or if the worst comes to pass and Morthybargaron is still alive somehow...

Hekate shakes her head clear of the thought. She responds to Geirahoel’s idle banter, “It’s about the same to me...”

The orange dragon snickers lightly. “I suppose so. Maybe a little smaller, since you’ve gotten fatter.”

“I’m not fat!” whines Hekate.

The dragon smirks, and the ravenette realizes what the green-eyed dragon is doing. She’s trying to distract Hekate away from her anxiety.

It’s working for now, but the evil feeling is growing stronger. It doesn’t actually have a sound, but feels like noise to Hekate, in addition to the pressure.

As they reach the door, Hekate comes to a stop and can’t move. Geirahoel looks at her, asking, “It’s beyond the door, isn’t it?”

Hekate’s trembling head nods. Her whole body is quaking.

“I don’t understand. I don’t feel anything.”

“It’s not in the room...” whispers Hekate, terrified of whatever it is.

“I thought you said...”

“F-Further...” murmurs the terrified little empress.

Geirahoel shows concern for the state of her friend, and she studies the door. It’s probable that Morthybargaron sealed the throne room, since it was actually his private quarters.

Still, Hekate can’t form any thoughts. She feels like the door is impossible to open. It has grown in size before her eyes, threatening her with doom if she passes through.

All that lies on the other side of the door is hate.Updated chapters at novelhall.com

“Slave!” booms a voice that only Hekate seems to be able to hear. She jumps with a start, her eyes watering. “Why I ever suffer a disgusting little monster like you to live is beyond me. Well? Why are you standing around? Get out of my sight and obey!”

She tries to summon her courage. I’m stronger now. I can... I can...

“I can smell you from the other side of the door, Slave. You disgust me in every possible way. You hideous creature.”

Hekate recoils, trying to retreat from the flames that... aren't actually there. Her heart is pounding in her ears, and her skin is cold and clammy. She can feel sweat forming all over. Her breathing is becoming ragged.

I thought I was ready for this!? I'm fool! Please don't kill me! I-I-I want to live! I want to be with Daniel!

“If you look at me like that again, I’ll...!”

Hekate is ripped out of the terror by a hand squeezing hers. “Hekate! Listen to me! Focus on me! There’s nothing here!”

Somehow, the feldrok girl ended up against one of the walls away from the door, curled into a ball and sobbing. Geirahoel is holding her hand with one of her own, while her other palm is gently cupping Hekate’s cheek. “Stay with me Hekate. I... I don’t know how to help. There’s nothing here. I don’t sense any magic, and...”

The feldrok girl remarks, “Looks like another one of the old ruler’s secret doorways.”

“Indeed. Can you imagine?” asks Geirahoel facetiously.

When Hekate looks at her curiously, the auburn-haired dragon continues deviously, “All those centuries, and there was a door right here under his tail that he could not open.” She approaches the wall, touching where the unmarred doorway suddenly gives way to deep gashes in the stone of the wall around it. “The self-proclaimed strongest dragon in the world helpless before a simple door. I cannot wait to watch Daniel open it.”

Hekate scoffs and snickers softly.

Likely, just as with the other stone gate they observed, a certain threshold activates the magic to reset the wall and gate to their former selves. In this case, it’s probable that Morthybargaron, in a fit of anger or frustration at either the door or something else unrelated, slashed the door with his claws, following through across the wall as well. The door immediately regenerated itself, while the wall remained marred because the threshold for the spell wasn’t reached.

Shaiulvalgarro was a name Hekate rarely ever heard, other than the fact that the acolytes would sometimes mention him; especially the much older members that were of races that can live for several centuries, such as the Uhl’tall. He was clearly a skilled and powerful mage among dragons, which are already powerful in the realm of magic. He left behind active spells that Hekate hasn’t seen anywhere else, including the Citadel. The booby-traps in the Citadel were mostly mechanical, likely set by the goblin, ogre, and orc squatters, since Morthybargaron disabled the Citadel’s defenses before he was driven out by Lugrae.

Shaiulvalgarro was clearly a crafty and paranoid dragon, and he used magic to its fullest extent to protect whatever is hidden beyond this wall, as well as several others.

Hekate touches the doorway. To her, it feels icy cold, and she can feel a pull towards the other side. The pressure around her is immense, but she knows it is something separate from Morthybargaron. It is true evil lingering beyond this wall; something hidden away. Since the door was sealed, it must be something Shaiulvalgarro was hiding, but everyone who speaks of him with knowledge of the dragon himself tells of a rather eccentric, but kind being who kept mostly to himself. He could very well be Reignleif’s father, given how their demeanors are similar.

“Well?” asks Geirahoel out of the blue.

“‘Well’ what?” asks Hekate, confused.

“We’re as far as we can go.” The orange dragon smiles gently, her green eyes showing an unusual amount of kindness towards Hekate. “You survived.”

The young feldrok relaxes gently. “Yes... I guess I did... Thank you... for accompanying me.”

“I told you, I came for my own reasons. I’ve only held off for consideration of your feelings. If you’re done, I’d like to begin burning things.”

Hekate snickers warmly. “Haven’t you already begun?” She looks pointedly at the dais. Rather, she is gazing upon the remains of Morthybargaron’s elevated seat. Even now, the heat in the room is stifling because of the liquid stone that lingers where it settled.

“I told you, it smelled abominable,” retorts Geirahoel a little childishly.

Hekate smiles happily. “Well... Avoid burning anything of use to us. Spell scrolls and things.”

“Mmm... I will, but you should join me.”

The fox-eared girl cocks her head, surprised. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. Join me in annihilating that beast’s precious belongings. Let us erase his memory together.”

Hekate blushes. “I...”

“You deserve to more than any of us. Give it a try.”

Hekate fidgets. “I... can’t breathe fire.”

Geirahoel simply smiles gently, and something about her suddenly seems even more mature than ever. She has a level of adoration for Hekate that was never present before. Her tone is inviting and kind. “Then, I suppose we can start from the very beginning.”

Feldroks are considered the most powerful beings in the world, both due to their natural abilities and their capacity for magic.

Hekate herself witnessed Lugrae use multiple elemental breaths to attack a drake, though she was frozen in fear and blacked out sometime through.

Neither Hekate nor Geirahoel know how feldroks fought without magic, but the orange dragon seems set on finding out.

***

Daniel lies on the grass planted around the garden on the Citadel’s roof. The flowers fill the air with sweet scents, and it makes him think of the varying flower garden that has appeared around him. He has gathered all flavors of the spectrum, and he still hasn’t figured out quite how. Roses with thorns, bright and energetic peonies, zinnias with hidden beauty, lilacs, wisteria, and irises.

He knows he’s in an impossible situation. It should be a minefield, and while he’s careful not to disrespect any one individual, his garden is, at least for now, rather harmonious.

A head crowned with two metallic orange horns and a beautiful near-crimson shade of auburn hair pops into his field of view, looking down at him.

The human mechanic is a little surprised, but he easily recognizes his dearly beloved companion, Geirahoel. “Geira-Mukori? Welcome home! I was expecting you and Hekate to be gone longer.”

“We need to talk,” states the orange dragon in human form seriously.

Daniel sits up and faces her properly, worried at first.

Is this it? The time it all crumbles? Is she done with...

“It was worse than I realized, even seeing it from our side...” starts Geirahoel nervously. “Hekate... She...” She looks down, fidgeting. “She treasures a thing made of straw...”

Daniel cocks his head, not quite understanding.

The young dragon does her best to clarify. “It’s supposed to be a doll, I think, but... It’s... She deserves better. And, there’s still something in the keep that bothers her.”

Pleasantly surprised, Daniel remarks gently, “I see... Did she ask for something specific? I have no reservations about giving Hekate anything she wants, but... she has very humble tastes.”

Geirahoel scoffs, though she looks a little distant and disappointed.

Daniel notices the newest smell to enter the garden; the acrid odors of smoke, scorched metal and stone, and incinerated biological fibers.

Daniel’s sense of smell isn’t particularly robust, but his experience in varying fields of industry have given him some taste in regards to the scents specific to those of both destruction and creation. At least, those that are possible within the reach of human beings of the early 21st century on Earth.

The dragon retorts to Daniel’s question, “Her tastes are indeed far too humble.” She crosses her arms under her breasts, looking up at the open sky. “When she’s brave enough, you should take her back to Shaiulvalgarro’s Hoard and open his secret gates. Something behind one of them seemed like it was of interest to Hekate.”

“Any idea what it was?” asks Daniel curiously.

Geirahoel shakes her head regrettably. “No. It was behind one of Shaiulvalgarro’s alleged fake doors. While the red tyrant never wanted to admit it, we all knew they are actual doors. They are protected by powerful magic that Shaiulvalgarro left behind.”

“Shaiul... garro is a dragon?” asks the human mechanic.

Geirahoel grumbles, “Shaiulvalgarro.” She pouts softly, “It’s a Yaulrent name meant for other races...”

“Sorry... I remember the name you gave me when we met, Bystuirikohn.”

Geirahoel recoils in surprise and blushes. She stammers, “Wh-Wh-Wha-!? How did we start talking about me!?”

Daniel laughs, and he returns to the matter she brought up as she drops to her knees to grip his shirt. “Okay, okay! More importantly, do you really think I’ll be able to open them?”

The auburn-haired beauty halts. She stares at him with a skeptical expression, like he’s one of the dumbest people she has ever encountered.

“I’m more afraid they’ll open when you simply touch them,” retorts the dragon dryly.

“I’m not truly immune to magic...”

“And, the spell only reverts everything back to the way it was and expels the attempted intruder to the outside.” She smiles proudly. “Even if you fail at first, I’ll catch you.”

Now, Daniel is the one looking at her with skepticism clear on his face, though his is marked with an amused and slightly-sarcastic smirk.

“I could try blowing it up, but I’m guessing dragon’s fire couldn’t get through the door. So, I’ll have to work on some other methods to try to do it safely. Do... you think Hekate will be alright until then?”

Geirahoel nods. “Yes. We let our anger out on Morthybargaron’s things, and she’s happier here than ever.” She smiles softly. “I think... she was able to make peace with her past, at least a little. As... As long as you... no, as long as we continue to give her the treatment she deserves, I think she’ll be alright.”

Daniel nods. “I have no objections. If you ever stumble across something she wants or expresses interest in, please share it with me.”

“Only if you do the same.” Geirahoel then kisses Daniel, surprising him. She adds softly afterwards, “I... failed Hekate... for her entire life. I tried to help her as much as I could today, but...” She sits up and proclaims confidently, “I should be better at caring for others. I have no excuses if I want to be a proper mother.”

The otherworldly human smiles softly, laying his hand gently on her thigh. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. And, I’m sure Hekate will appreciate you looking after her, just as you have been since we met.”

The orange dragon blushes and smiles. “I-I’ll... I’ll continue to do better...”

The two lay back down on the grass and look up at the sky. While she smells like destruction, she wasn’t destroying the past, so much as clearing the way for a proper future.

History’s lessons seem to have been learned by the surviving dragons, and Hekate represents a second chance at moving forward beyond the mire of an unpleasant series of events.

Morthybargaron is dead, and time will march on without him. It is the responsibility of those who are living to keep moving forward with it.

***