Black wiry smoke rose from the mountain top.
So far away it appeared as a dark serpent, coiling towards the moon beneath a flickering star. He believed he could see Hardok's eyes, gazing right at them, though he shook his head on such a silly thought.
"Almost there," he said, leading Al down a dark slope.
Crooked trees, bent into a spiral so much it appeared unnatural, lined on either side them.
Beneath them was a trail of pebbles, small cobblestones, and torches ignited ahead, yellow fire, on either side a cave entrance. The latter was more of a doorway, over twice the height of either he or Al.
He drew his sword as she nocked an arrow.
"It's colder," he said, taking one of the torches. "More than it was when snow piled so high."
"What's in here?" She asked.
"Don't know," he replied, slowly waving the torch. "They've got red eyes, some of 'em glow, some don't. They've got fur, but its dark. Never seen what they look like out the shadows."
"Can we take them?"
"Aye," he said, knowing he'd kill one at best on his own. "Don't miss."
She nodded, keeping her bow faced ahead.
Light faded within a few minutes time, and he'd little clue how far in they were. Growls would shake the walls at any moment, maybe a few rocks would bounce off their heads. Yet another few minutes passed, they carefully stepped down a rocky slope, and not a sound.
No stenches, bloodstains, roars, or anything besides their own footsteps.
Their breaths were white, hearts racing, and it felt as though shadows were swallowing them.
Sparks flew.
Al loosed an arrow on accident, cursing.
"Easy," he said, approaching the wispy light. "It's here!"
"Is it?" She muttered. "Grab it, and let's get the fuck out of here!"
Surrounded by fiery white smoke, atop a mound of rusty armor, it should've been his flail.
Instead it was a hammer, larger than his great sword, though nothing one could use to crush an adolescent dragon's neck. Hardok wouldn't have even been tickled, though he supposed with enough time under a furnace it'd be better than a blade.
"Wait," Al said, reaching into the smoke.
She pulled out a scimitar, iron with a silver hilt, within a scabbard crafted with wolf skin.
It suited her well, complimenting her light frame. After strapping it to her waist belt she drew it, examining razor thin metal against the torch.
Growls shook the cave walls, smoke withering away.
Nothing was in sight within arm's reach. Each step, returning from whence they came, felt as if they were going deeper. They could've been marching right of a cliff, as far as he knew, and his footsteps slowed as stench came with growls.
His chest felt to be caving in.
Steam whiffed, a hot breath from drool leaking jaws. Eyes blinked, deep yellow, narrow, and dagger like teeth glimmered.
One wave from his torch backed the creature away.
He swung with his hammer hand.
It didn't even budge, hissing, drool spurting atop his hammer arm. Al loosed arrows, landing within the creature's left eye. It roared, standing higher, and he saw its fur draped round its feet like a robe.
One swing, paws heavy steel, slammed him against the wall.
He dropped the torch, but held his hammer tight.
Al screamed, loosing one last arrow, then drew her scimitar.
Iron hissed, a quick silver shine. The beast whimpered, stumbling against the wall, stepping atop him as he stood. Mouthful of wet dirt, he cursed, Al slicing at the creature with her scimitar. It scurried away towards the cave entrance, and Al hurried to help him up.
"Don't think it's dead," she said, blood leaking down his forehead, "just a wound across its belly."
"More will come," he said, raising his hammer high as he could. "I'll be close behind, just go."
She wouldn't leave him.
They limped up the rocky slope together. Upon seeing a light above, shining as tough the sun were over the top, beasts crawled overhead, all with sharp golden eyes. Against the light he could see their heads, ears like wolves, muscles like a boar, and claws like dragons.
Rocks tumbled down, the monsters roaring while charging down.
Al swung the torch, and scimitar, backing them off. She sliced open one's leg, and it spat, charging her on all fours. He rained down his hammer, slamming onto the beasts skull, but nothing broke. It staggered, back, hissing as the others swung at them.
She flew into a wall. He was tossed down the slope, cracking his head open along the way.
Blood rushed from all sides of his head, and his vision waned, Al's screams the last thing he heard.
Hot saliva soaked his face, then he felt teeth gnashing open his belly. It went on for several minutes, and though he was numb, it was unnatural as anything he could describe. At last death put a hand on him, and he saw the white walls.
Smoke, a savory deep melon-like smell, greeted him upon awakening.
Paul sat in front of the fire, waving to him as he woke up.
Al was still sleep, though she was shuffling back and forth. Their new recovered weapons were intact, bedside along with all their gear.
"Find what you were looking for?" Paul asked.
While rubbing his head, he mumbled, "Aye."
"Doesn't sound like it."
"I found that," he said, pointing at the hammer.
Paul shrugged. "Dersmunds got plenty of those. A bit smaller, but nothing worth going through an abandoned shrine with werewolves."
"Those were werewolves?" He asked, sitting up.
Paul nodded, puffing from his pipe. "If a few extra weapons were all it'd take to bring down the king of the dragons, we'd all be up there with Eric as we speak."
"Hardok's no king," he muttered, flexing his fingers. "I slayed the king of the nests, we three, couple of the best from the world's greatest guild."
"Before or after you re-awakened in the swamp?" Paul asked.
He shook his head, cursing, looking at his sword and hammer.
Perhaps he should've tried a sharp weapon, and he started readying his gear as Al woke.
"You're not going back there?" She stuttered, a hand on her belly.
"Aye," he said, shoving on his helm, "and you should too. We're not done yet."
Paul smiled. "You're on the right track, but not quite."
"For fuck's sake, what then?" He snapped, pointing his hammer at the old man.
"You need to train properly. As Eric did. Then you can make the climb."
He lowered his hammer, snickering, "Killing is training. One death after another, at some point we'll get it right."
Al, in no mood to even get out of bed, mustered herself to don her armor.
Paul offered them breakfast, and though he refused, Al accepted, anything to belay returning to have her stomach ripped out. There was plenty of meat and ale, and he decided it was worth the wait, even if the old man couldn't stop suggesting a proper training regimen.
"Been fighting since I first awakened," he said, mug in hand as his senses numbed. "Don't need a lesson like some squire boy."
"I've seen you fight," Paul said, sipping on wine. "It's messy, brutal, and requires an astronomical amount of strength. Dare I say something no human should be capable of, even if soulless."
"I know it's gone," he said, taking a long chug, "but I'll get it back. Just gonna take some time."
"Indeed, perhaps we'll have another hundred new soulless about in such time."
"What're you suggesting we do?" Al asked, grasping his hand to keep him from speaking.
A hand on the chin, Paul smiled. "Leon was a, trainer we'll call it. He specialized in readying athletes of all sorts of different backgrounds, and he helped Eric prepare before going to scale the mountain."
"Couldn't have been that special," he muttered, pouring himself another round, "if the lad's still up there."
"Of course, there's that stubborn soulless spirit," Paul said, shrugging, "however Eric was much stronger than he was upon arrival. Though he may not have slayed Hardok, he's taken down every dragon leading to the king himself."
A king.
Hardok's scales should've been added to his cloak, the dragon's head mounted on a wall somewhere with his name on it. What little difference it would make, anything was better than nothing, as there were people waiting on him. Unlike his previous journey, there was more than just thrills, and each time he looked at Al he felt Dany or Nathan's presence.
She nodded, and he sighed.
"Fine," he agreed, "we'll train. But in our free time the caves are ours."
"Excellent!" Paul said, springing up. "I'll inform at once, you two be prepared first thing in the morning."
As Paul headed away, he turned back with a stern face.
"Don't, return to the caves, for at least a week! Agreed?"
He muttered a few go fucking jump off a cliffs under his breath, but Al nudged him, forcing him to agree.
For the rest of the day he drank, Al by his side.
They made for the hut where the night was quiet, much to his disappointment.