The Dragon Realms Saga

Dragon Realm Cypress

“Hello Avren.” The crisp Autumn air nibbled at Wiccer’s nose as he placed a prayer stone on his brother’s headstone. “It has been awhile since we last talked.”

Wiccer stood silent, letting time pass him as if Avren’s ghost were responding. The cemetery seemed emptier than usual. Nearly a thousand fallen souls filled the graves, each a victim in the Varis War or by the hands of Black Rabbit attacks. His brother was no different. A monument in Wiccer’s mind of his failure to honor his brother’s memory. A reminder that he aligned himself with Elucard the Kingslayer.

“The nightmares grow worse, Avren. I try to push them down. Power forward. Be a good soldier, like you… but I’m not as strong as you.” Wiccer’s hand began to shake. He quickly hid it beneath his wool cloak in shame. “I don’t think I can keep this front up forever – now I have this Ghost Fox act to hold up.” Wiccer knelt down and placed his trembling hand on the smooth marble gravestone. It calmed his nerves but not his mind. Still fragile and withering away in the storm of his past. “Why’d you have to go and die, leave me to Pa? I want you here with me, big brother. I need you here…”

***

“We’ll have one shot at this Elucard. Let’s not screw this up.” Wiccer and Elucard walked down the spiraling dungeon staircase on the way to the prison cells. Wiccer led the way with a torch in one hand while his other hand felt along the crumbling walls of the dank dungeon. His companion leading ahead of him.

“I know, I know. Multiple visits will lead the Psy-Ops to be suspicious. ARO has no grounds to interrogate prisoners.” Elucard pushed open a heavy oak door and entered the prison.

Wiccer saluted the warden who shot up from his desk. The stocky elf glared at the two Watchers with a mixture of resentment and curiosity. He waved away his two guards. “You two ain’t supposed to be here… Well, maybe just you,” he said, smirking at Elucard. “Got a cozy cell set up just for the Kingslayer.”

“Funny,” Elucard said dryly.

“Delvar Lightwood, isn’t it?” Wiccer slid a scroll from his belt and handed it to the warden. “Orders from the higher ups. Sergeant Freewind and I are to interrogate the prisoner.”

Delvar unraveled the scroll and scanned the orders, but did not have enough time to properly read it before Wiccer snatched it back.

“All is in order then?” Wiccer didn’t so much as ask, but tell Delvar. The dumbfounded elf stepped aside as Wiccer and Elucard pushed through him and further into the dungeon.

“How much time do you think that bought us?” Elucard asked once he was confident they were out of earshot of Delvar and his guards.

“Hard to say. I’d say the amount of time that it takes him to fetch his superior,” answered Wiccer. He and Elucard halted outside an iron door. “The keys, Elucard?”

Elucard smiled as he produced a ring of dangling keys he swiped from the warden earlier when he was distracted with the scroll. “Rabbit trickery never fails.”

Unlocking the heavy door, they entered and approached the prisoner who sat cross-legged against the opposing wall. A bucket within the corner reeked of pungent droppings and urine. A wooden bowl of gruel fed a plump rat. The sound of the opening door sent the rodent scurrying into a nearby crack.

“Ah, guests. It’s my lucky day,” said the prisoner. His tone was cheerful, but his face presented him as frail and sick.

“We aren’t here for pleasantries, Bremscott. We’re looking for information.” Wiccer kicked away the bowl of slop and signaled for Elucard to lock the door behind them.

“Captain… Newsun, yes?” Bremscott didn’t bother to stand up. “I was unaware that ARO had the power to interrogate prisoners. Now, I was only a spearman, but a man in my position knows about the importance and duties of the Anti-Rogue Ops. It’s in your namesake, isn’t it?

You handle would-be assassins and thieves? Politics aren’t really your area of expertise,” he said smugly.

Wiccer’s lip curled in embarrassment. So easily deflated by the knowledgeable opponent. He glanced at Elucard who sighed.

“Listen, up Bremscott, enough games.” Elucard lifted the prisoner up and slammed him against the wall by his ragged shirt. “This is how it will work. The captain will ask you a question and if you don’t answer him with something he wants to hear, I’ll break a finger.” Still

bracing Bremscott, Elucard grabbed the prisoner’s hand and slowly pressed Bremscott’s index finger backwards.

“I always knew you ARO types were thugs!” Bremscott spat.

Elucard sneered and without hesitation snapped the finger completely backwards.

Bremscott howled in agony.

“Elucard!” flared Wiccer.

“Am I making myself clear?” snarled Elucard, a deviant smile carved across his face.

“Argh! Y-yes!” Bremscott stuttered through pain and sweat.

“Go ahead Wiccer.”

Wiccer hesitated, no longer on board with their plan, but was afraid to push Elucard further in his methods. “We know you still have connections with the outside. We want to know if the other veterans are planning a meeting and when?”

Bremscott, still wriggling in pain, sucked in lungs full of air. “G-get this maniac Rabbit off of me!”

*Crack* Another finger. His middle one.

“Don’t waste my time, Bremscott!” threatened Elucard.

“Elucard! This isn’t our way!” Wiccer pulled the tormenting elf away from Bremscott. “You’ll put him in shock before we get a straight answer out of him!”

Elucard glowered with dark eyes at Wiccer. “You’d rather he run circles with us? You think he’d give up his allies so easily?”

“I won’t compromise my morals for this path. It’s not worth it!”

“You compromised your morals once you dawned the Red Cloak, Wiccer. We are the shadow that protects the light. Or does our sacrifice mean nothing to you now?”

Wiccer moved in close to Elucard, his dark complexion now flushed with anger. He ground his teeth but he still had the conflicting urge to back off. It was not that he agreed with Elucard, but he felt he could not defend his position. They did not have the luxury to interrogate Bremscott multiple times and neither did they have the resources to research other veteran gatherings. If they wanted the Ghost Foxes to succeed, Elucard’s way was, unfortunately, the most efficient way.

“Do it your way, Elucard,” settled Wiccer.

“N-no wait!” Bremscott gripped his mangled fingers with his hand and desperately tried to back as far as he could against the wall. His feet slid across the grimy surface with each attempt. “Newsun! I c-can see you just want to do what’s right.”

“Get to the point,” barked Elucard.

“You do what you do for your country? A t-true soldier?”

“I’ve heard enough of this nonsense.” Elucard bent over to pick up where he left off with Bremscott.

“Elucard, stop. I want to hear this.” Wiccer knelt beside the former spearman. “I am. I would do anything to protect my men. I live and die by my flag.”

“Y-yes. So w-would I. T-that is why we went against the k-king. For the good of our brothers. To bring honor back to L-Long Whisper,” Bremscott hissed with each short breath, the pain being unbearable.

“We are alike. Dedicated soldiers, bound by duty. Will you help us?”

Bremscott swallowed hard, now going in and out of consciousness. “N-not the Kingslayer, just you.”

Wiccer leaned Bremscott closer to his ear. “Tell me.”

“T-there is a rally, tomorrow n-night. Held by the y-yikahti. H-he will find a new coup to f-fund.”

“Tell us where!” order Elucard.

Bremscott glared at the Watcher until Wiccer shooed Elucard back towards the door. “Tell us where, please.”

“The old armory. In the Roots.”

Elucard unlocked the door and gestured for Wiccer to follow. Wiccer remained until Bremscott passed out from his pain. “For what it’s worth, Bremscott, I’m sorry.”