Chapter 54: Chapter 53 A Goblin’s Tale

The storm of mana raging across the sky redirected its focus toward Dink, flowing downward. The image of the talisman in his mind became sharper. Its appearance was unforgettable. It was a humanoid doll fashioned from twigs and strips of cloth, it vaguely resembled a Goblin. The surface was entirely covered in an unnerving arcane script written in blood.

 

Those fucking Hags. How did I never recognise these runes in the past? I know, it’s because I was too arrogant. If I wasn't so careless, I would've clearly seen the talisman is created with one of the three forbidden disciplines, Hex magick.

 

“Absurd, sisters. The Sword Saint hath sealed the memories from himself,” the first Hag mocked.

 

“Our magick is impotent against one highly exalted as thyself without consent. Drop thy walls, Sword Saint,” the second Hag implored.

 

"Allow thyself to relive the past, Sword Saint. Thou hath our pledge that we shalt not harm thee,” the third Hag promised.

 

“How do I trust your word, Hags? I’ve been burned by your betrayal before!” Dink shouted at the sky.

 

“The slumbering one offers thee providence. Akarad will dissolve any Hex made against thee. Among my sisters, I alone need not be vigilant against inviting the scrutiny of a true dragon. Even in death, Akarad is still formidable,” the third Hag replied. 

 

“Surrender to the memory, thou will observe what transpired that day,” the second Hag urged.

 

“Experience the conception of thy child, Sword Saint, our fourth sister. It is the third sister’s turn to gestate the next generation in her belly, as it was once each of ours before her. Once the fourth sister reaches maturity, she will be the most powerful of our kind. The offspring of a Legend realm and soul of a true dragon, hahaha!” the first Hag gloated.

 

The shock of the revelation collapsed Dink’s mental defences. Dink teetered on the back of the cart, stumbling toward the end. Noticing his strange behaviour, Axion frantically rushed to prevent him from falling. Dink’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, fainting off the cart. 

 

Before Dink hit the ground, his vision reeled. Shifting him to another time and place in the distant past.  

 

***

 

Mana raged in every direction, making it impossible to see anything. Suddenly it calmed, light channelled into a point in the middle of his chest until his vision cleared. He turned his head to investigate his surroundings. He was inside a collapsed stone temple. Rubble buried an enormous form in the centre of the room. The rubble shifted as an imposingly large black dragon heaved its last breath. 

 

The dragon was covered in deep wounds over its interlaced scales. Leaking blood filled with overwhelming amounts of mana. The dragon’s spine was lined with spikes that jutted from the debris. Its lifeless head was topped with intimidating curled horns. Blood pooled on the ground under its jaw, its tongue lulling out from between countless jagged teeth.

 

In front of the corpse of the slain true dragon, Akarad, stood the armoured figure of the Sword Saint. Despite being equipped with heavy armour, his shield arm wore a gauntlet. Yet he wore only a decorative bracer on his sword hand. Flexing the hand loosely holding a bloody ornate longsword, the Sword Saint looked down. He gasped in elation at what he discovered about his exposed sword hand.

 

I’ve always liked to feel a connection to my sword, that habit has never changed. But my hand… it’s Human. It’s no longer the stunted blue claw of a Goblin. I thought the Hags said this was only a memory. Why is it so real? I have partial autonomy over my actions.

 

“Well done, Sword Saint. Let my first sister inspect the talisman for the soul of Akarad. Then we can fulfil our pact,” the third Hag said.

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Dink, or more appropriately, the Sword Saint, twisted toward the sound of the voice. Three figures dressed in mysterious, hooded robes crowded behind him. The one on the right held out an outstretched palm. The offered has was extremely pale flesh adorned with unrecognisable arcane runes.

 

The Sword Saint tore the talisman from his neck and placed it in the first sister’s hand. He searched with his eyes around the wreckage filled with black Goblin corpses behind the Hags.

 

“Where’s Eugene?” the Sword Saint suspiciously asked.

 

“Do not concern thyself, Sword Saint. What happens next is not for the eyes of mortal men. Sisters, the talisman was successful. It holds the slumbering soul of the true dragon,” the first Hag answered.

 

“Tell me, Hags. How is it a dragon as ancient as this one fell so easily to my blade? If that were the true extent of its might, the Draconic Dividing should have been won by our forces. Not ending in a stalemate,” the Sword Saint observed.

 

“The slumbering one wanted to provoke thee into striking it down. Secretly sacrificing itself to end the truce to anger its race into action. Through our magick, we learned of his intentions,” the first Hag informed him.

 

“Resulting in the offering of our bargain to thee, mighty Sword Saint,” the second Hag added, stepping forward to run a hand over his chest. The Sword Saint recoiled away from her touch, eliciting laughter in response.

 

“If what you’ve said is true. Then you tricked me into starting a war?” the Sword Saint angrily said, gripping his bloody sword tight. The third sister placed a hand lightly over his hand to stop him.

 

“If the Akarad’s death is uncovered, the accord for peace between the races will end. True dragons will emerge from their seclusion. So too will Legend realm Magus and Attuned be forced from their reclusion to oppose them, resuming the Draconic Dividing war,” the third Hag said.

 

“There is no denying a war of that scale would be glorious to witness. However, it is not yet the time for chaos. Our plans rely on the transient balance between the races. There must be no interference from either party,” the first Hag said, passing the talisman to the second sister.

 

“For the sake of peace, thou must not allow the slumbering one’s death to be discovered,” the second Hag said, running a finger over his armour. 

 

The second sister moved behind him, suddenly gripping his shoulder and slapping the talisman against his armoured back. A burst of eerie green light erupted from the point of contact, illuminating the area around them. The second sister stepped away while the Sword Saint remained motionless, staring into space. The Hags silently watched the talisman slowly merge through his armour, contorting their fingers into a series of unnatural shapes. 

 

They started to circle around him while performing signs with their hands, rolling their shoulders and stomping their feet to a bizarre rhythm. Continuing to creep, they stripped away their hooded cloaks to reveal their naked forms underneath.

 

All three women are extraordinarily beautiful. Although, they look almost identical with very slight differences. As if they were sired by different races. Their features are unnaturally seductive, not at all what I expected a Hag to look like. Is this the result of an enchantment?

***

[Explicit content Chapter 53.1 New Birth found at Patreon.com/jackofheart]

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