From behind her, Sharissa heard Gerrod’s straining voice. He, like his brother, wanted her to turn away.
“Lochivan!” she called. “You need help! You’re ill, Lochivan!”
“Turn away and flee!” he shouted. His voice sent shivers through her, for it was far, far worse than anytime prior. He sounded more like an animal struggling to free itself from a trap than a man.
The Tezerenee’s drake began to buck, completely confused as to what its rider wanted of it. Lochivan kept waving the reins as he sought to discourage Sharissa from coming any closer. “Leave me be! Ssssave yoursssself, you little fool! Lissssten to my brother!”
He was hunched up again, as if straining against his armor, of all things. Sharissa tried to get close enough to reach him, but her mount suddenly balked. She kicked its sides and swore at it as she had seen so many Tezerenee do, but the creature refused to go any closer, instead skittering back and forth where it was, much to her growing annoyance.
Lochivan was practically folded in two, and his pain was now so terrible that he did not even try to hold back. His shriek only made the situation that much worse, for it renewed the frenzied back-and-forth movements of the drakes. Sharissa had to hang on for dear life-and then wondered why she was bothering with the drake. It would be easier at this point to abandon the mount and run to Lochivan.
Trying not to think about what a confused creature such as the ill Tezerenee’s drake might do when she moved too close, Sharissa leaped off her own mount. From the edge of her field of vision, she saw Faunon pull up nearby and immediately abandon his own animal. To her horror, he ran directly toward the menacing jaws of the frightened drake.
“Deal with him!” the elf shouted. “I will bring the monster under control!”
She nodded, saving her gratitude for when this task was done, and cautiously made her way to Lochivan’s side.
He was shivering, his visage still turned away from her, and his armor seemed not to match the shape of his body. The leg that she could see from where she stood looked to be broken, judging by the angle at which it was bent. How that had happened on the back of a riding drake was a question Sharissa could find no answer for. When she finally pulled him to safety, she could concern herself with questions.
“Lochivan! Dismount! That monster could throw you off!” In his condition, that might prove fatal. She moved a few steps closer. Now he was only just out of arm’s reach. To her right, the sorceress saw that Faunon had caught hold of the reins, which Lochivan, in his pain, had finally lost. So far, he was keeping the drake from running amok, and that was all Sharissa could hope for.
“Get away from me!” He growled, waving one gauntleted hand at her while still trying to look away. Had the disease ravaged him so, or… could it be?
She lost hold of the frightening thought as his hand came within reach. Lunging, Sharissa took hold.
“Nooo!” With a turn of his wrist, Lochivan’s gauntlet came loose-revealing a twisted, clawed hand covered in dark, grayish scales!
He turned toward her then, his other hand reaching for the helm that seemed to no longer fit him and was, in fact, straining to burst. “I warned you, Sharissa! I wanted you to not sssssee thisss! I wanted no one to ssssee this!”
The rest of the party had arrived. Barakas was already off his mount and running toward his son when Lochivan reached up with his clawed hand and, voicing his agony again, pulled the helm back so that his visage was no longer obscured.
“Serkadion Manee! Oh, Lochivan, no!”
“Yessss, Sharissa!”
A scaled monstrosity stared back at her, toothy smile mocking the wearer himself. It was small wonder the helm had seemed tight. The nose and mouth had molded into one and were expanding even as she watched. Despite its strength, she could see that the armor was tearing apart in many places as every part of the body went through the transformation at the same time.
Lochivan had not only become what poor Ivor or those at the cavern had become, but he was already progressing beyond them.
Their true nature… The mad guardian had said something like that when speaking of what the Tezerenee would become. She could hear the elemental laughing even now. The Tezerenee had not crossed from Nimth to the Dragon-realm by physical means; their spirits had entered flesh-and-blood golems that magic had created in this world. Those bodies, however, had not been formed from flesh taken from anything human. No, in his infinite wisdom and a desire to make the drake even more a symbol of his clan, Barakas had dictated that the source of those new bodies would be the dragons discovered on this world.
And now those bodies were becoming what they should have been in the first place.
“Lochivan!” The patriarch came up beside Sharissa and reached out a hand toward his son. The other Tezerenee, save Gerrod, who kept as far away as possible, were circling drake and rider.
“I wassssn’t ssstrong enough, Father! I failed! I could not redeem mysssself!”
“Forget that! I can help you!”
“No one can! I… I have trouble even thinking of myssself assss ever being human! It… it issss… almost as if my mind changessss assss my body doessss!”
Barakas, ignoring the wild look in the reptilian eyes of his son, moved within arm’s reach. His tone was smooth but commanding. “You are Tezerenee, Lochivan! Our very name is power! There is nothing that can withstand our will! You have only to let me help you fight it! You have only to let me-”
He broke off as a hissing Lochivan sprang from the back of the drake and launched himself at the patriarch.
“Lochivan!” Sharissa started to reach for him, to pull him from his father, but Faunon, abandoning the riding drake, reached her first and pulled her away.
“Are you mad?”
“Let me go!” She struggled unsuccessfully in his grip.
“They will help their master!” He indicated the Tezerenee.
The warriors scurried toward the two struggling figures. Afraid of acciden-tally wounding their master, they sheathed their swords. Three pulled knives out.
Lochivan, still hissing, looked up as the closest man tried to grab his left arm. With astonishing speed and savageness, the patriarch’s son slashed out, ripping through armor and taking with it several layers of flesh. The warrior screamed and stumbled back, wounded but not out of it. Two more took hold of the abomination that had once been one of their lords and dragged him off of his father. Barakas quickly scrambled back. There was blood on him, but it was that of the unfortunate warrior.
“Secure him!” Gerrod, still maintaining his distance, called out. “He’s growing stronger by the-”
Lochivan tore one arm free and, before anyone could react, reached over and took hold of the man gripping his other arm. He swung the warrior around, knocking one of his other attackers to the ground, and then threw his victim to the ground headfirst. Sharissa turned away as she saw the Tezerenee’s neck snap backward as he struck the earth.
Two of the warriors tried to drag the unconscious one away, but Lochivan, never hesitating, turned and leaped at them. One who had his knife ready lunged and caught the misshapen figure on the shoulder where the armor had ripped apart. The blade dug into flesh, then snapped as it struck bone. Hissing, the bleeding Lochivan reached out and caught the man by the neck. When he pulled his taloned hand away a breath later, Lochivan carried part of the man’s throat. The Tezerenee was dead before his mutilated corpse even fell atop his unconscious fellow.
“We should leave!” Faunon whispered. “That thing is liable to kill us all at this rate! At the very least, you should leave! I can help fend it off for a time!”
Sharissa shook her head. She knew that Faunon meant well, that he was worried for her, not for him. “I have a better idea. Let me go.”
“So you can try to reason with him again? He is beyond listening now!”
“But Barakas isn’t!”
He frowned, but, seeing the look in her eyes, nodded. As soon as his grip lessened, Sharissa made her way to the patriarch, Faunon close at her heels. The elf, likely very thankful now that Barakas had given him a sword, kept himself between his Vraad and the beast in the circle.
