Four Dragons
Chapter 1
Rain/Inn/Discovery
A heavy downpour of rain hampers most sight. It keep’s the eyes from focusing on what is in front of them and has people guessing what is around them.
I don’t know why it is that being in the rain lets me think better. I am drenched to the bone, and yet I feel none of it. My thoughts are all that I feel, all that I recognize in this living waking world. I feel at peace with the world only when standing in rain. Otherwise, I am on a constant war path. A path that has led me towards more than one battle in my time.
Only in the rain can the world stop for me, can it change for the better. Just for the remainder of the time the rains persists on to soak me, and the earth, forever more.
I am on a quest, one that will no doubt see me killed before it is completed. One that will no doubt put me through more hardships than necessary.
Life holds no meaning without a purpose, people who haven’t one. They are mere shells that merely exist but are not really important nor do they make any change or contribution to reality.
This is simple logic that any fool can pick up on. I do not think complicatedly, nor do I wish to confuse. No I am simply a man who has a message for a certain few people. One that could end in my death, or theirs. Nothing too complicated about that.
That is my purpose in life, and nothing more afterwards. What will I do? I don’t plan on living through the entire quest for I believe I will be struck down before I can complete it. I know this yet my pride will not let me call it quits and give up. I am too far beyond that to stop and turn back now. I never had a choice to do so even from the beginning.
I realize I have walked farther than I wished too.
I had left a small village next to the woodlands a couple days ago, camping in the forests for shelter when I turned in for the night as it rained. Which is something it had been doing since the village. I’d only stayed there for two days, I cant afford to waste time in more than one place for long. A local farmer in the village had lent me the barn and the haystacks
(food and water) for a little help on the fields.
A good man, but divorced. We all have sad stories these days it seems. I had left with enough food and drink for three days. Too bad about that though, I had been gluttonous and withered away my supplies. I needed to check myself on that. Learn from the mistake.
I had planned on making camp in the forests and waiting it out until morning. Though to my luck, a country inn is just up the road.
A sign planted into the ground on the side of the path, says it’s a quarter of a mile up the road around the bend. The heavy forest growth makes it hard to see through and the rain is no help either. I nod and make my way forward.
The inn is nothing more than a simple two story building that probably has no more than 5 or 6 rooms altogether. If any are even available. The rain puts the inn in a misty fog to the vision of my eye.
The closer I get, the easier it is to see a man standing under the porch roof of the inn, merely watching me advance. He carries a sword belted to his waist. He eyes me up and down, and his gaze never strays from mine.
He has a sword strapped to him and he looks like he can wield it properly.
His stature is one of someone who is very confident in his swordsmanship abilities. He makes no swaggers, merely just looks with a keen sense of strength. Something not many have or are willing to display such as he does.
He wears a black t-shirt, with white jogging pants. A white cap is overtop of his head. His hair spiky-styled. He wears red sandals which do not match the rest of his attire, but even so, it doesn’t change his appearance. He crosses his arms, and as I near the steps, rain no longer falling on me. I have came to the roof of the porch.
In doing so, rain now drips from my whole body and it soaks the wooden steps. The man looks at me, with crossed arms, he smiles and his teeth are a slight green tint. From smoking no doubt. My hand is tempted to grip my sword, but I know it would provoke a fight and would be unwise.
The man’s eyes are a forest green, his hair, a dark brown, his skin tone much darker than mines which tells me he’s not from around here at all.
He looks at me, and his stare does not turn, even though we are merely four or five feet apart. Within striking distance. He speaks to me.
“ What is your name?” he asks me.
“ Why do you wish to know?” I answer with another question.
“ I will tell you mine in return”.
“ What says I want to know your name?” I respond.
The man’s eyes show a bit of irritation in them.
The man, looking closer, he is no older than his early twenties, no more than 22 I would guess. Whereas I am a ripe 30 years of age.
“ What is yours first?” I ask.
The man sighs but answers.
“ Johan”.
“ I am Sean” I answer.
The man’s face betrays no kind of emotion nor any facial movements. Which is what I think is strange. Though I cannot call any kind of suspicion on it. He nods and turns away, as if losing all interest in me after knowing my name. I dip my head to him and enter the inn. The place is lit up and warmed by a fireplace to the left of the lobby.
In the center are tables and chairs, for if food is ordered. Shelves circle around the whole lobby, with pottery and other fine captures and collectibles. Then what looks like a mini bar towards the back when you first walk in holds liquor bottles behind it, and four stools for drinkers. The stairs are next to the fireplace leading to the rooms no doubt. The innkeeper is an old man, wizened from age and bent double, standing behind the mini bar counter polishing what looks like some antique dress shoes.
He seems oblivious to my arrival. He finally looks up a few seconds later and smiles.
“ A customer eh? Welcome to my little inn in the middle of nowhere. Home sweet home for some and a resting place for many. Can I get you food and drink as well as bedding?” spoke the old man.
His hair was white with age, and in a ponytail for it was long, he sported a full beard and moustache that covered all of his lower jaw except his lips. His beard is tied together into a knot with a rubber band so it wouldn’t grow wild.
His eyes looked milky, creamy which meant he was blind. Yet he followed everyone of my movements with his eyes, as if he could see. Strange I thought.
“ I would like a room for the night, some soup, kind does not matter and whatever drink you prefer” I said.
“ So surprise you in other words?” spoke the old man.
I grunted in response and the old man smiled.
“ Well I can do that sure enough. Have a seat at one of the tables, it’ll be done momentarily” spoke the old man.
I watched him turn around. He was a truly amazing blind man, movements could be detected by him, but without sight? How? No matter, I took my seat at the chair closest to the fireplace. Now that the rain’s entrancing spell had worn off, I was feeling the cold from being soaked.
A few minutes later, steaming hot soup was brought forth and a bottle of Rose Wine, (or said the bottle) and was placed in front of me.
“ Rose Wine, very good. Smooth and will calm even the hardiest of men. But I figured you did not wish to drink yourself drunk, merely to try new tastes am I correct?” spoke the old man.
I grunted in response once more, and took a sip of the soup. It was spicy.
“ Shrimp and Hotroot soup. Nothing like it I say. Is a specialty of mines” the old man said.
The fireplace cast an eerie glow in the blind man’s eyes. The creamy color looked yellow and demonic to my opinion. I smiled, the soup was indeed very good. The best I had had in a long time.
“ I want another bowl in a few minutes. This is quite good” I said.
The old man smiled and giggled with delight.
“ You are definitely a man with absolute great taste in soups. I will compliment you on that. Any fool whose says otherwise, deserves a good smack across the head with a reality check to go with it” smiled the old man.
I couldn’t help myself but grin at the old man. He seemed lonely and customers were the better part of company he was granted.
Such was life it seemed. That thought changed soon though. I had finished the second bowl, and had drank a few glasses of the wine, which had left me light on my feet.
When a women came from the stairs, she wasn’t overly beautiful or even memorable, so I decided not to pay much attention. That was until she turned her back to me after a small glance and went to the old man.
She had two small hatchet’s strapped to her back. The hilt’s metal and the blades to each of them single edged. Her movements were graceful, her hair waved along her back and came to her mid. Long golden brown it was.
She had a beautiful figure, she just didn’t interest me. Simple as that. She wore a black get up. Everything she wore was of that color. Black tank top, black skin-tight leather looking jeans. She even wore heels.
Strange woman. She approached the blind old man, who in turn motioned for her to follow him into a room towards the back farther behind then the mini bar. They entered the room and the door shut behind them.
Johan finally entered. His eyes never met mine as he entered and crossed the lobby to ascend up the steps. I smacked my lips at the after taste of the soup and decided to collect on that room for the night. I settled in my chair and waited for the old man to return.
A woman suddenly took over my sight. She was beautiful, long and flowing blonde hair, beautiful tanned complexion with smooth skin. Her eyes a dark green, her smile radiated all through me and I believe I smiled in return. Her belly was swollen. She was pregnant. Harsh reality hit me and I clawed at her to make her go away.
Young ones, two of them, twins, each with black hair, messy and wild like mine, black eyes, pale skin tone like mine, everything like me……
Tears welled in my eyes, hate stung my mind, anger seethed in me, sadness welled in my heart. Of all the things, was a heartbreaking feeling that these feelings would never go away no matter how much time passed.
Horror became a new emotion when a gory scene followed. Blood seemed to slowly flow from all three of them and their eyes at first. It came to drip from the tips of their noses, all three of them. It dripped to the floor and the small dripping sound as it hit the inn floor, made me cringe and wince every time
It came to flow down their cheeks, and then it was dripping from their ears. I gasped in pain, my chest hurt, I could barely breathe. Fighting for air I tried to turn away from the sight, but I couldn’t. I could not move a muscle, motion had left me, thought had abandoned me.
Then worst of all, it didn’t flow from their mouths. No, it poured like a fountain, more blood than a human body could withstand losing gushed from all three of their mouths. I staggered, I never knew I had been standing.
Then what was worst of it all by far, was not that they were bleeding and the blood had poured to the ground and was flowing in all directions. Not that it had came to where I stood and had soaked my feet. It was sticky and the feeling made me gag. But it was none of these things, it was the fact that the beautiful blonde women, her face held a smile while these things happened to her.
The children, they giggled. I felt light headed, a sense of weariness filled me, but the vision ended as quickly as it had arrived as if it had never happened.
I think I dozed off from the effects of the wine for the old man was standing over me while I was leaning back in the chair. Hadn’t been long so obviously it had been nothing more than a dream, the woman and the children.
I was sweating, I sighed, took a few deep breaths to regain composure. How long could I withstand these mental assaults before I went to a dark place I could never return from? No one could tell but the future.
“ Rose wine is very potent wouldn’t you say?” he said with a smile.
Took me a second to realize what he meant. Realization dawned on me.
I smiled in turn and snorted and he returned with a grin.
“ About the room?” I asked.
The old man nodded.
“ It’s prepared for you and all sir”.
I stood from the chair, and was making my way to the stairs when yet another woman, and not the long golden blonde haired one either.
Her hair was raven-black. And cut to her neck. She had the same beautiful figure as the other, but with good looks to boot. I wasn’t partial to short haired women but she was sure a looker.
Her eyes a ice crystal blue. Her skin smooth and pale complexioned. Her movements delicate but with strength in them. She carried a bow across her back, with a satchel of arrows strapped on as well. She did not connect eyes with me. Three armed people in one inn, and an old man not seeming to be alarmed at all?
Something with this picture just did not settle with me at all. It just wasn’t natural for anyone to seem calm around so much muscle. Unless………….
Was the old man a force to be reckoned with himself? The thought had just occurred to me now. Foolish I was for drinking, it had slowed my wits.
Something grabbed my arm before I got fully up the steps.
I turned and seen the old man.
“ Don’t forget your room key” he said.
His hand outstretched to mine, and he simply dropped the key into my open one. Then he turned around and went about his business. I climbed the steps, and the room number was stamped onto the key.
Room number 6 of 6 rooms. Three on each side of the hallway, each room had a sliding door made of simple tree wood, it was painted maroon in a all white walled hallway. An attempt to add color to a dull place. I entered my room, noticing the hallway was empty and a eerie feeling crept along my spine.
I slid the door shut behind me and locked it. Something was not right with this place. There wasn’t anything serious that tipped me off. Just a few little things, things that might possibly be ignored at my own peril.
I wasn’t going to be the fool to ignore them. I looked around the room. Their was a bed, twin sized. Sheets white, the bedpost made of polished wood. The walls the same old dull white paint. A dresser opposite of the bed. It held a large mirror. A few paintings hung along the walls. One at every corner. Four.
Other than that, the room was empty. The mirror piqued my interest. I came to look into it and see myself. I looked evil in a sense. My black eyes, showed no color or life. Then again, I had lost everything so what life did I have in the end? No all that was left was this purpose of meeting these certain people.
That was all their was and ever would be.
I needed a shave, 5’o clock shadow covered my neck and lower jaw. I had a small moustache growing, it was more like fuzz though. My face looked haunted, sad, and angry all at once.
Again, this was understandable. I was never one to care much about looks though. Even when I was happy. My hair, wild and messy, black as my eyes, needed a brushing and was down to my neck like the attractive woman downstairs had been.
I laid down on the bed and eventually was asleep once again. I did not dream which was a blessing. They had been filled with nightmares lately, and they got worse each night and nap. They could get worse than the vision I just had recently. Much worse.
Their were no windows so I did not know what time of the day or night it was when I awoke. I left my room, and went back down the stairs into the lobby. Sword still to my side, I was never safe to go without it.
The old man, the young man, and the two young women, all four of them were seated at the tables discussing something in hushed tones. I looked to the door, it was morning.
I looked at the four of them again. I now knew why the old man hadn’t been afraid. He was one of them, whatever they were. He had a spear laid across the table in front of him with his hands gripping it.
I frowned, this did not bode well. Then the old man turned his head towards me, him being the only blind one yet he noticed me first.
“ Ahhh Sean, good morning young man” spoke the old one.
I grunted.
Johan waved me over to them. I frowned, I did not wish to be near them, but if I didn’t, they would suspect that I was suspicious. So I had no choice but to go to them. I hated it all the way though.
Coming to stand and be offered a chair by Johan, I sat and was given a bowl of oatmeal. Which I ate gratefully even if I disliked them and the situation I was in.
They all four watched me as I ate, a very uncomfortable thing to be accustomed to.
Then something happened that finally tipped me off as to what was going on.
The old man kept glancing towards the attractive woman, who would tap the table in what had to be Morse code. I didn’t understand it but it was common amongst assassins or higher ranked thugs to organizations or gangs. She didn’t tap hard, but it was noticeable.
I frowned.
“ So they sent you huh? The Dragons am I right?” I said putting down my bowl.
The old man smiled.
“You are very sharp Mr. Sean. Sadly yes we were employed by the Four Dragons. So we must insist you die right here” spoke the old man being very harsh and blunt about it.
I frowned.
“ I don’t know if I can die right now. Too much to do I’m afraid to simply die in this inn. Answer me this though before we begin” I spoke.
“ What’s that?” spoke Johan.
“ You killed the original owners am I correct?”.
The old man answered yes with a cold and heartless smile. He was the most dangerous one of the four it seemed.
Then the table was flipped and it soared across the room. I kicked the floor to slide my chair backwards, it fell over and I rolled sideways out of it gaining my footing.
An arrow from the attractive woman flew for my face. I jerked my head to the side to avoid it in the nick of time. A slight hesitation and I would’ve been dead.
Johan came at me hard and heavily. Sword drawn, and bringing it down to me. I drew mine, blocked the blow, but he was forcing me to give ground. He had more body strength than I possessed.
Our swords clashing together caused sparks, we traded attacks for a few seconds, dancing in a deadly dance of death. Survival and murder the only intentions.
The women with the twin hatchets joined the fray while I was clashing with Johan. She leaped and kicked and her foot hit me square in the chest and threw me into the wall. A few things fell from the shelves above me and shattered at my feet.
Another arrow flew for me, I ducked it, and came out charging for Johan and the hatchet wielding woman. But in a split second, I spun my body around Johan who had been raising his sword to block an attack from me.
One I had never had any intent on sending. The old man never moved a muscle. He merely watched me as if observing. Two more arrows sang for the back of my head as I outdistanced Johan and the hatchet woman.
I ducked them both and was out of the inn disappearing into the forest. I had to put some distance and find a place I could turn things to my advantage, All of them together was more than I could handle and survive.
The old man smiled, the target was smart. He would seek a fair ground to fight on. He was no easy mark. The old man gripped his spear, looked at Johan.
“ You will lead Sesika, after the target, I will take Yena with me and we’ll circle around and enter in another direction” spoke the old man.
Johan nodded and the hatchet wielding woman followed him. Yena the archer of the group followed the old man.
“ Where too Gen” spoke Yena.
The old man, named Gen, smiled.
“ Just follow me and ask no more questions“.
Yena nodded and they departed the inn.