Braekin woke up screaming. He looked around his room. It was empty, except for a chair with his clothes draped over it. His sword sat beside his bed as always. His shirt was soaked because of the cold sweat that was running down him. He was breathing heavily, and he was pretty sure he was not getting back to sleep, even though the sun had not risen from its slumber yet. The dream that he had been having for weeks had become a nightmare. It had always felt real, to the point that he could not tell he was dreaming, but it had always ended before he had even reached the mountains. He got up, grabbed a cloak and his sword, and left his room. He needed to take a walk and think things through. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it all meant something, but he didn’t know what. He had never seen the mountains or anything else that from the vision before in his waking hours. Visions. Perhaps that’s what it was. What if it wasn’t a dream at all, but a foreshadowing of things to come? He shook his head as he entered the corridor. Too many thoughts were running through his head and he was starting to get paranoid. “Next thing you know, I’ll start talking to myself”, he said aloud, and then shook his head again, realizing what he had just said.

The corridor outside his room was dimly lit, as most of the torches had gone out already. The few that were still lit cast eerie shadows on the stone walls. The floor was cold and damp, as usual. It was fall outside, the cool air giving a hint of what was coming when winter hit in a couple of months. Soon snow would fall, and the castle would be draped in a cold, white blanket. He stopped at a window and looked outside. It was still dark, but the town of Kyndale was already starting to wake. He could hear the chime of metal hitting metal, which was the sign that the blacksmith was making something in his shop. In the distance he could see some farmers already out on their fields working. Soon they would come by with their wagons with the weeks worth of food and drink for the castle. “Great, now I’m hungry”. Braekin decided to head down to the kitchen. The staff would be up by now, preparing the morning meal. He was usually up early, though not usually this early. At any rate, he figured he could grab some tea and some bread to hold him off till later. Arcidius had told him a few days ago that there was a council meeting this morning, so he knew a proper breakfast would probably be out of the question. And he didn’t feel like waiting till midday to eat.

He continued down stairs, while thinking some more about the dream. He tried to recall it all, to see if anything looked familiar. But he was already beginning to forget the details. He could remember the mountains though, and the black smoke. This image was ingrained in his mind, as it was the one constant image in his previous dreams. He remembered the bird with its song, soaring high overhead. That’s where the dream changed. He had never seen the bird before or anything after it. The mountains were what he kept coming back to though. He had never even seen mountains before. He had lived in or near Kyndale his entire life, and all that was around were low hills, forests, and plains. In fact, he was currently standing in the tallest object around, though he was sure the castle would have been dwarfed by the cavern inside the mountain, yet alone the entire mountain range outside. The cavern brought back bad images of the nightmare. It was so vivid. He thought he was dead. He thought he had died without even seeing his attacker, only fire. Piecing all of the images together, the only creature he could think of that would match was a dragon, but they were more myth and legend than fact today. It was true that dragons once walked (and occasionally flew) the earth, but that was over a millennia ago. And even then, dragons were considered one of the wisest creatures alive, being the first to learn the skills of spoken and written word. It just didn’t make sense. Why would such a noble creature attack him without even speaking?

Braekin looked up. He wasn’t in the kitchen. Actually, he was not anywhere near the kitchen. He was standing at the entrance to the dungeon. Braekin had an issue with walking and thinking. It usually sent him in the wrong direction. “What the hell am I doing here?”

“You’re asking yourself questions now? I hope you’ve come to commit yourself finally”, a voice behind him said.

Braekin rolled his eyes. “Shut up Cid.”

He turned around to find Arcidius smiling at him, obviously trying to hold back full-blown laughter. He was Braekin’s elder brother, by three years, and heir to their father’s throne. This had always suited Braekin just fine, as he had no interest in being King. He was an explorer, and felt more comfortable in forests and caves than in a court, on a throne. His brother was better suited anyway. He commanded the kingdom’s army and had the respect of soldiers and citizens alike. He also was born with a natural charisma, a talent Arcidius used to talk his way out of trouble, or to persuade someone to his cause. Because of this, and the strength of its army, Kyndale had enjoyed a long stretch of peace and prosperity. When the time came, the people would follow him, to whatever end.

Arcidius coughed back a chuckle and asked, “What are you doing down here anyway?”

“I’m … umm … heading to the kitchen.”

“You do realize, that’s in the opposite direction, right?”

“I know that! But I got a little … distracted”

That was all he could take. Arcidius burst into laughter. He looked at Braekin, and seeing him turning red with embarrassment made Arcidius laugh even more. He wiped back tears, tried to put on a serious face, and said, “How many times do I have to tell you Rae. If you need to think, stop walking first.” Then he burst into laughter again. Braekin just stared at him.

“I hate you”. Then he started laughing as well.

It was always the same …

Braekin looked across the horizon. Ahead of him was a vast wasteland of dirt and dust. A few small plants fought to survive in a place where they didn’t belong. Above, the clouds moved at an eerily slow pace, covering the sun and playing shadow tricks on the earth. A single bird, too far to distinguish, soared high above; it’s song a mockery to any who could hear it. In the distance was a wall of mountains, stretching from east to west, with no break in sight. From the tallest peak came a funnel of black smoke, a beacon showing his destination. Braekin drank from his water pouch and moved on. Many times he had travelled this road, but never before had he gotten this close. High above the bird screeched again, as if warning him to turn back. He ignored it, continuing towards the mountain.

As he approached the foot of the mountain, the ground began to tremble. At first it was barely noticeable, but soon the shaking increased in ferocity. Eventually the entire earth was shaking in rage. Rocks and boulders broke free of the mountainside and tumbled down to the ground. Braekin tried to keep his balance as the ground threw him about like a small pebble. He dodged one boulder as it came careening towards him. A smaller one came behind it though and caught him square in the chest, sending him down the side and onto his back. He shook his head, disoriented and feeling warm liquid in his mouth that had to be blood. Suddenly another boulder came hurtling down towards him. He quickly rolled out of it’s path, got to his feet, and continued up the mountain path as quickly as he could. After much dodging and running, he found a cave that he could enter. He darted inside, narrowly missing another barrage of rocks and boulders. The cave was dark and damp. He squinted his eyes, trying to adjust them to the darkness all around him. As his vision improved, he noted that though he had never been here before, he felt that something was unsettling about the place, and decidedly evil.

As he ventured further, he heard a terrible bang. He quickly turned and found that the sky, once clear with it’s slow moving clouds, had turned black. He didn’t know where this storm came from, but it seemed as if it was centred directly over top of him. Lightning flashed in the air and the sky opened up. The rain started pouring down the mountain, as if the entire sea had been dumped from above. Thunder shook the walls of the cave and the constant lightning kept the dark sky lit in an eerie electrical daylight. Braekin turned from the storm and continued deeper into the cave. It seemed that someone didn’t want him here, and he wanted to know why.

He continued on through the dimly lit tunnel. As he travelled deeper into the mountain, the sounds of the storm outside dissipated until he could no longer hear even the thunder that had deafened his ears a few moments ago. He walked for what seemed like an eternity, carefully keeping track of where he was going, since the tunnels constantly forked. He didn’t know why he was taking the root he had … hell; he didn’t even know why he was here. But for whatever reason, he felt like he was going the right way. The path continued deeper into the tunnel and sloped downward slightly. There was barely any light getting down here. The tunnel was damp and smelt of moss …and something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was another very distinct smell. It was a weird mix of burnt meat, smoke, and rot. This smell became stronger and more pungent the farther down the tunnel he went. It had grown so foul that Braekin was forced to stop and tie a damp cloth over his face to stop him from vomiting. As he did this, he noticed for the first time that he could see a bit better. He trained his eyes ahead and saw a dim light. Finally, he thought. He continued towards the light at a quickened pace. As he approached the end of the tunnel, his surroundings lit up and he noticed for the first time the size of the tunnel he had been travelling in. It was huge. At least three men could have stood on each other’s shoulders before they touched the ceiling. But it was nothing compared to the size of the cavern that lay before him.

Enormous would not begin to describe the cavern. An entire town could have fit inside it, with the tallest church not reaching half the distance to the crown of the chamber. In fact, he thought the King’s castle would have had a difficult time scraping the roof. Fires burned everywhere, lighting up the cavern and the tunnel he had just left. Black smoke billowed to the top of the cavern, escaping somewhere to the sky above the mountain. The cavern walls disappeared in a fine fog some distance from the mouth of the cave. It would have taken days just to circumvent them. But he was more interested in cutting down the middle. Not too far ahead of him were rolling hills that sparkled in the fire’s light. As he walked towards the hills, he found that they were not hills at all. They were mounds of treasure. There were gold and silver coins, armour, swords, goblets, pottery and much more. It was unlike anything Braekin had ever seen. It was unbelievable. He ran towards the piles of treasure, eager to dive into the spoils. But in his enthusiasm he tripped over something and hit the ground hard. He shook his head, sat up, and turned to see what he had tripped on. What he saw made his body numb. The treasures and vastness of the cave had kept his eyes trained on them, instead of on the ground. Now that he looked, he found bones everywhere. Human bones. He started with fright, got up and started to look for the exit. But he couldn’t see it anywhere. The fog had closed in around him, making it impossible to even tell which direction he had come from. He looked all around, but it was no use. Everywhere he turned, all he saw was white fog.

He decided to start running blindly. At some point, he was bound to hit the cavern wall. Then he could follow it to the exit from which he came. He had not gotten that far though before he heard another loud bang. But this wasn’t like the thunder outside. It was much more solid, and was followed by a tremor on the ground. A couple seconds later he heard it again, though he seemed to feel it more than hear it. Again and again he heard and felt the noise, and it finally dawned on him. Something was coming towards him. Something very large. Then he remembered the smell leading up to the cave, and the ancient bodies on the ground. He bolted away from the sound as quick as he could. If he could get to the cavern exit, he might be able to survive whatever was after him. But it was too fast. He heard the bangs getting louder as the creature got closer. He tripped again and skidded across the ground. He threw his arms over his head and awaited the inevitable. It didn’t come. He slowly turned his head towards the direction of the sound. There was nothing there but fog. He got up and looked all around him. He couldn’t see anything. Just fog, and bones on the ground. Then for a second he thought he saw a large silhouette move across his field of view. Terrified, but still curious, he slowly crept towards the direction of the silhouette. He heard a sound behind him. He turned around and tried to scream, but he couldn’t. He simply stood there and watched as a ball of flame enveloped his body.