Dagherion Hardifar

**Prologue/**

I wake up from a bad dream, my body courses with sweat, my body courses with sweat, my head pounds and my heart is beating like a horse’s.
I look upon the floor and see something glinting.
They are swords, I have wielded them for so long now, and I can never remember when I got them, I never remember when, though I always remember how, and why, and who, and what.
I am old now, I have just had my one hundred and fifty sixth birthday, I am old, I don’t look, or feel it though. I look barely twenty four, though I have already seen too much, I have to live eight hundred and forty four years, I will live to exactly one thousand years old, and die.
Mankind are so weak minded, they fail in everything, they live for eighty years or so, and die, without making an impact on anyone’s life, but there own, they live for self, they are selfish, they merely live to fill themselves up with the world, and then they die, from too much gain.
The world is not how it used to be, everyone served like a pack of wolves, they lived for the pack, they shared with the pack, and they died like a pack.
Such is not the case now. The only thing man considers is its petty differences, and if someone is different, they jump down their throats.
Every man unto his own self now, oh, where has the pack gone now? Where has the selflessness gone? The living for one another? It has been swallowed up by mans greed, which, all the time, overtakes caution.
I am not of man, nor do I consider myself of this world, although I look like a human, and am like a human, I am different and stand out.
There is a difference in me, I have got two things no one else has got, I have dragon blood in my veins, and I have a dragon mind, thus, I excel in everything, which describes many things about me, like my age, my youth, and my abilities, such as speed, dexterity, athletics, and stamina.
There was a whole race like me once, but the evil of man entered my world, and the evil of mankind infected the people, that they are now lost in time, because impatience and greed overtook them, and they got into the impatience and greed, and they ignored the caution, shouting at the back of their minds, and they disappeared.
I have travelled the world looking for my own kind, dragon-men, but, where I have found them, they have gone too far in the ways of the world, they have got into the rut, and they cant, and wont, get back out of it.
My father once said to me
‘In the first era, which lasted ten thousand years, before the braking of the world, man, lived on one island, where they lived in their own tribes, they gave tribute to one another, and they were seven tribes in all, they all allowed each other to come to each others resources, and not one drop of blood was spilt upon the world, tranquillity lay upon the earth, peace and stillness also.
Then at the beginning of the second era, ten hundred years, an upstart, by name known as Ailx Ardaog, murdered his brother Xila Ardaog, by poison, that day time almost stood still, a second lasting a day, then, with a snap back into reality, the world broke apart, scattering man apart, and then something happened, a new race formed, the race of Pyrini. Dragons melded with humans, giving the humans god like abilities, that race became civilised along with the tribe of humans.
Where stillness and tranquillity roamed, three altogether different things the world of Yangrar felt, war, death and destruction.
A balance formed between those attributes, and a conflict, life was different for all the seven tribes, some faired better than others, and on top, the Pyrini reigned, like wolves among sheep, the Pyrinians respected their lower species, the dragons died at, nearer to the end of this era, and that, is the brief history of Yangrar, world of balance.
I could write on, about how with each drop of blood that stains the ground, it takes the soul out of the world, and with each act of love, kindness and courage, however small restores the worlds soul, yet, as always, evil grows, like a tumour, and will eventually eat away all the good of the soul, killing the world.
Sad, yet true, evil cannot be undone, but goodness can clear out evil, and that may happen, depending on man’

Nevertheless there is still yet hope for them. Though I believe they will wake up, and understand what a proud race we were, and what a horrible, ugly, evil race we have become.
As I write, my eyes mist, as I think about those I loved, are lost, those I once knew, are gone and nothing will bring them back, not even time itself, or love, or magic…























**Chapter 1/**

It all began when I was twelve back then I only understood certain aspects of life, and was beginning to mature.
My father was teaching me the letters, because it was the custom for the trade of the father to pass down to the son, that is how the tradition was, my father laboured faithfully for the king copying and translating scrolls and arcane writ. His name was Mafier.
My father was teaching me the Pyrini language, and I had learnt the language a to h.
‘Now son’ said father ‘repeat to me the letters a to h, ‘a’ samok, ‘b’ taras ‘c’ rashash, ‘d’ quanad ‘e’ harak ‘f’ ethset ‘g’ karam ‘h’ tasark’ and that is how he taught me, by saying a letter and asking me to repeat it after him, in Pyrini.
My mother had died earlier on in my life; I had no memories of her, except maybe the occasional aroma of eucalyptus or lavender would bring the image of rushes being laid on the floor by a woman up in my mind.
‘Dagherion?’ I snapped back into focus and attention, ‘your tired today, aren’t you?’ he asked me, I wasn’t tired, I just wanted space, and time to think, so I lied, and said ‘yes’
‘Go and amuse yourself then, though if you are going anywhere, take a little food, and I would like you back before dark, as the nights are drawing into a close now’ my father told me.
I walked away, and turned around to see my father looking dismayed as he turned to translate his scrolls, he knew I would not take up that trade, I was too active minded, and did not have the mind for letters, I thought they were boring too.
I went to the food room, got some food, and walked into the city.
As I gathered my thoughts as to what I wa s going to do in the afternoon as I strolled down through the city, I said ‘hello’, and ‘how are you’ to the few people I knew, I began to wander towards somewhere I had not been before, I was heading towards the House, though in truth it was actually a castle.
This was where the used to King spent his winter time, the King bought his court to stay here in the winter, the king was not in residence, and had not been, for two years
Everyone was allowed the run of the castle, or so it was said, except the Kings and Nobleman’s rooms.
The castle itself was situated on a shallow hill; it overlooked the town, dwarfing it.
I was not much to behold, I was only a boy to the guards, and they took no passing notice as I walked through the gates of the castle.
I noticed a man in rags sitting on the, I knew what he was, he was a leper, and my father always told me to keep away from them, I hardly listened to him anyway, I found lepers rather interesting to talk to, most of the beggars and lepers were my friends, I had weekly visits to most of them, they were part of my life, I could not easily cut them off from me now, as I was part of their life too, I considered some of them my friends.
‘Good afternoon Lasharam’ I said as I sat down next to the old leper. Lasharam was one of my closest companions, he had been healed once of leprosy, but had caught it again off having to live on the streets.
‘Good afternoon’ he replied in a parched voice. I proffered my drink to him, he probably had not had anything to eat or drink in days, and no one cares for others after all.
We shared a hearty afternoon meal together, we caught up on each other, as to what we had done and learnt.
I said ‘goodbye’ to the old man as I stood up and adjusted my clothes and left the rest of my food with him, it would last for days with him, he never knew when the next meal would come for him.
I walked off towards the inner wall of the castle, through the gates, and into the castle itself. Inside the castle door, there was a room, running parallel, along the two walls, columns held up the roof of the room, from each of these walls there hung the Kings banner, two swords, crossed over a staff, with a red background.
Every so often along each wall there was a light ensconced in the wall, there were three fires in the hall, which gave off immense heat, and the light from all the sources still left the rafters in shadow.
I walked on through this immense room, gaping at its sheer size; I didn’t think the castle was that big.
At the end of the doors I came to a set of doors at least twelve foot high, they were strong, studded iron, I pushed them, to no avail, they were locked, if I was to get through them, I would have to brake through them, or, alternatively, find the key, which was probably under guard.
I retraced my foot steps back, and looked in the immense room, for interesting things to hold as treasure, I found three sovereigns, with the kings head smelted on, a shard of a broken sword, it had an eerie strange surface to it, and a whetstone, which on either end was encrusted with green stone’s.
I smiled, I had finally achieved something today, I had found some gold, I walked away from the room, as I was going out, I had a strange feeling, I felt that I was being watched by something, or someone, the castle was not as empty as it seemed to be, I would find out later on tonight as I planned to come back.

As I walked home I saw a commotion in an inn, it seemed that someone had stolen something from someone else, I walked over to find out what was happening.
‘Where’s my money thief?’ roared a great burley man, with scars on his face and his hairy arms, I judged him to be a smith, the room fell silent.
The smith was looking at a particularly young wealthy dressed man.
‘I don’t know what you are talking about’ the accused said, with honesty on his face.
‘I’ll give you ‘I don’t know’ in a minute, your arms ‘n’ legs ‘ll’ come off in a minute’ the smith replied.
The honest man shrugged his shoulders, not caring, I noticed that the man carried himself well, maybe he would put up a good fight for the smith, I sat down on a nearby stool to see the brawl.
As if by magic a circle cleared for the two men to fight.
The smith approached the young man; the young man took off his cloak, and formed a fighting stance I had never seen heard of before.
‘What’s this? A fighting scorpion?’ ten smith mocked, no one laughed.
‘I warn you, if you approach me in an offensive manner, you will become gravely injured, I don’t want to hurt you’ said the young man.
The smith laughed, ‘you wont even scratch me, give up now, ‘n’ I’ll leave an arm attached to your body so you can still scratch your itches in your badges’ and with that the smith roared and charged at the young man, the young man stepped into the charge, and kicked the smith in the groin and punched the smiths neck, the smith fell over, and roared in pain.
The man stepped back, waiting for the next attack. The smith stood up, and eyed the young man warily, ‘do you have a name?’ he asked, he picked up a char, and threw it at the young man, there eyes were locked upon one another.
The man caught the chair, while saying, ‘my name…’ with a flick of his wrist he sent the chair flew at the smith’s chin ‘…is Prince Redarrion’ realisation dawned upon the smiths face as the chair knocked the smith unconscious.
The room fell silent; Prince Redarrion eyes rove through the silent watchers searching for someone. His eyes connected with mine, something shifted in his eyes, his eyes rested on mine for a second longer then carried on.
He looked down on the wooden floor and said, ‘who is the captain of the guard here? I will get this mess cleared up’
The innkeeper said ‘the Captain of the guard’s name is Arkon, he lives in the white house down the road, his office is in the keep in the House, your Highness’
‘Thanks he said, put the body on a cart, and I will take it to him, and don’t call me Majesty, or Highness, or Lord, I gave up that path a long time ago, my name is just Redarrion’
The innkeeper signalled to his ushers to go and get a cart and horse ready.
Redarrion picked up the stool from the floor and sat down on it, ‘Dagherion, come here’, he commanded.
I stepped forward and walked over to him, he breathed in sharply as I made the final step toward him. ‘Father will be pleased to know you have kept the good looks!’ he smiled at me.
‘By Vantis its good to see you again, and that you are safe and are well looked after’.
‘I don’t understand’ I said.
‘Of course you don’t’ he looked up, then at me again ‘we will talk about it after.
He stood up, ‘follow me’ he said as we walked out of the door, by now the day was drawing to a close, it was getting dark, father would be worried.
The cart was prepared, ‘wait here’ I waited patiently as he went in and picked the body of the smith up and brought it out and laid it in the cart.
‘The smith, I presume, has been nothing but trouble for a few weeks now to wealthy travellers and tradesmen passing through the village’, he looked down and his voice became bitter ‘why is greed so big a thing amongst the humans?’
Redarrion sat in the cart and rode it to the Captain of the guards house, ‘my my’ Redarrion said ‘looks like there must be an understanding between the smith and the Captain’
The house dwarfed the houses to the left and to the right of it; the plants were big, and well looked after. I noticed that Redarrion had a sword his waist, it was beautiful, but simple, the hilt was of a dragon’s head, roaring.
The smith groaned. He sat up, ‘where am I?’ he asked.
‘Do you have a name?’ asked Redarrion.
‘Fashard’ he replied.
‘Well Fashard, complaint of a bully smith has reached the Kings ears, apparently he knocks out every wealthy tradesman and wealthy noble that happens to pass through the village of Yanara, the smith, apparently steals the valuables, and the money of the wealthy, and sells and keeps them, wouldn’t the smith, be you? I presume, from the wealth of the Captain, you must have an understanding with one another; he covers up you, while you bribe and pay him? That sounds fair, doesn’t it? The King is not happy with the smith, and I am not happy with the Captain’
Fashard’s jaw tightened up, his eyes shifted around, darting around for an escape.
‘If you try to escape, your head will separate from your head rather fast’ Redarrion said, his head still looking straight.
The cart stopped, Redarrion looked at me, ‘want to wait here, or come and see what happens to those who disobey the Kings Law, because I am going to deliver the Kings Justice to someone’.
I jumped down from the cart, Redarrion reached into the cart and got a sack, he opened it and put it around Fashard’s head, and drew it tight.
‘For safety’ he said, a second time he reached into the cart and pulled a length of rope out, with frayed ends, he tied them around Fashard’s wrists, ‘for safety’ he repeated.
Redarrion spoke to me ‘go and knock on the door for me, please’ I went to the door, and knocked it.
A young woman answered it straight away, obviously she had been watching through the window.
Redarrion shoved Fashard in front of him and said, ‘filth, for the Captain!’
The young woman walked away down the hall looking for the Captain.
‘What?’ roared someone in the house.
Arkon was another bully, it was said deep under his house he had a cellar, where he mutilated and tortured the people of the village, I said as much to Redarrion, to widen his knowledge of the man he was about to meet.
A man in fine wealthy clothes strode down the hall to where we were, his upper torso was well formed, he was a strong man, the village held a three day contest for the people of us and the surrounding villages to come together to compete and to see who would be elected to join the military, it was a time of peace joy and happiness, the Captain always won the punching matches, and the wrestling matches, he was getting old though, and everyone knew, one day, that some low person, would beat him in turn.
Arkon looked Redarrion up and down, with a sign of disdain on his face ‘who might you be?’
Redarrion stood up straight ‘My name is Prince Redarrion, and I have come to deliver the Kings Justice to you, for breaking the Kings law, this filth (he gestured at Fashard) is your accomplice, and for that, I have the power to remove your station, your house, and your belongings from you, and I have the power to remove the forge, the station and the belongings from the smith, and I vow that I will do that’.
Arkon roared in annoyance.
‘Unless’ Redarrion shouted ‘all of the belongings, personal items, valuables, trade goods and so on, are returned to their rightful owners within the next month’
‘I have a writ, of your executions, if these instructions are not followed out strictly’
Redarrion walked over to the cart and pulled out a scroll, he walked back over and handed it to Arkon.
‘Here is the list of names, addresses, and belongings required’ he turned around and walked off, signalling me to follow, leaving Fashard where he was standing.
We climbed into the cart and rode off home; we had not gone far when Redarrion started speaking.
‘One hundred and fifty three months ago, our mother and father made love and conceived, they named the baby, when it was born, Dagherion Hardifar’
Redarrion looked at me.
‘The reason why they called the child that name was because the night before the dream, father had a dream, it was a dream of a dagger, being smelted, it was melded, folded, and melded one thousand times exactly, this dagger was unbreakable, indestructible, and contained magical impurities from the smelting. In the dreams it was left to cool for a day, and then was found, in the water, it had a sheen blue sheen to it. The metal was Muscarious, found only in a comet, so rare, and the dagger was so hard, it cuts through anything, and causes change wherever it goes.
Father went to Druid Cyrros, who interpreted the dream as your birth, father believes that the dagger was you, and that you are here to rewrite the world, and lead us all into a new age, I too share that belief, the future is shrouded in mist, but we have you, and you are he centre of the world’
‘Father sent you here, for safety, so that you would be protected, for as soon as you were born Druid Cyrros became bitter, because he looked deeper into the future and saw a new light, which was you, so after that he sent hundreds of assassins after you, they all failed, they went to the wrong place, you were safely riding away in a cart while father had placed another baby in your cot, for your sake that baby was killed that night, instead of you’
‘Much has changed in this world, already since your birth, the kingdom has grown weak, and started to break up, and far off kingdoms have started to take an interest in this country, and much evil has started to usurp the throne’.
‘Father is in his death bed even as we speak, dying, and he has called for the Hard Dagger to return home’.
‘Is that what my name means? Hard Dagger?’ I asked.
‘Yes, and I have something for you’ He handed me a bundle of wrapped cloth. I knew what it was, I did not have to open it, it was a dagger, with a missing shard of dagger, which I had still in my satchel.
‘Unfortunately, there is a piece missing out the middle…’ Redarrion said.
‘…which I have in my satchel’ I replied.
Surprise suffused Redarrion’s face ‘how did you come across it?’ he asked, he became very excited.
‘I found it in the House, this very day, I was looking around, and found it, it is a strange piece, it is blue, and sort of throbs with life, as if it has a presence of life within it’ I said.
‘It is said, the one who wields it, has his soul melded with it, never go into the house again, things lurk there, that should not be spoken of’ Redarrion said.
I looked up, and noticed we had missed the turn off to my dwelling; ‘we missed our dwelling’ I said.
‘We are not going home, we are going to your real home, where you belong’ he replied.
A lump grew in my throat, I would miss the man who had been my father for so long, who had taught me right, and wrong, good and evil, correct and immoral.
The man who had seen me walk, the man who had helped me eat, and kept me alive, who had loved me as a father would, should, and could.
Redarrion noticed my distress, ‘you will soon learn to live without him, you will see the work and maybe use the work he does for you, after all you are of the House of Rharkon, the essence of royalty itself, the line has held pure for fifteen generations, the mixing of two houses only, it is said our ancestors had magic in their blood, and cast things, though the Gift is hardly seen at all nowadays’
We reached the immense gates to the wall, outside the walls, it was pitch black, as we passed through the gates, all feeling of protection left me, I looked at Redarrion, and surely he would protect me? No, not against an army of assassins, we were treading on thin ice; he knew that, I still have faith in him though.
I heard movement behind us, I turned around, nothing, I got scared, my eyes darting from shadows, to trees, and to bushes.
‘Use your senses, if anyone is around us, they are to the left of us, don’t look, or they will know that we know, I say, there are three of them, all, middle aged, and all have three weapons each, a dagger, a bow and a sword, this will be interesting!’ Redarrion said.
‘How do you know?’ I asked him.
I am one of the True Line, remember? Descendant of the Great Dragon Lord, Reagaron Drax, and so are you, we both have Dragon in our blood, you will find out soon, when we get home, but for now, you must wait. Hold the reins a minute, im going to see what all the commotion is about’ and with that Redarrion slid side ways off the carriage and sprinted into the nearby bushes, jumped five foot, got the nearby bush, and perched on it like a bird, waiting to strike its prey.
‘The hunter becomes the hunted’ said someone next to me, I turned around and one of the men was sitting next to me, riding the cart.
The man was clothed in all black, edged in blood red, I screamed, and jumped down, someone caught me, and threw me back in the back of the cart.
Redarrion looked up, he saw me, and yelled ‘no’, he jumped from the tree and onto the ground, he hit the ground and rolled over, as he was coming up another person in black and red jumped out of the bushes and onto his back, holding a dagger to his throat.
‘Don’t move’ he hissed.
The cart stopped, I fumbled around in my satchel, found what I was looking for, and took the dagger, unwrapped, bright light throbbed from the dagger, pulsating, and filling the shadows, I threw it at the man holding Redarrion, ‘duck’ I yelled, instead Redarrion caught the dagger out of the air and plunged it into the mans neck, the man squealed and let go, falling back and dropping to the floor, blood pouring from his neck, choking.
The man in the cart with me turned around and grabbed me, I yelled, he punched me, and knocked me unconscious.