

**__**

**Beldagar**

**_A Dark Eve Story_**

By T. K. Thompson

Published By

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Chapter One - Beldagar

Chapter Two - The Mine

Chapter Three - Rose

Chapter Four - The Mountain

Chapter Five - The Dilemma

Chapter Six - A Day of Decisions

Chapter Seven - The Family

Chapter Eight - The Story and the Lie

Chapter Nine - The Plan

Chapter Ten - The Monster in the Mountain

Chapter Eleven - The Last Deal

Thank you for reading

About the Author

Acknowledgements

## **CHAPTER ONE**

### **_Beldagar_**

###

Beldagar's life was haunted. He had died again in his dreams last night. The dark shadow in the gold mine found him—it always found him.

He sat on the heaped earth, trying to dispel the impending doom that awaited him within the mine. His peaceful, familiar backyard gave little comfort. The tall pine trees scaled into the sky and the wild summer grass, which was actually green this year, was sprinkled with wildflowers. It only meant one thing to him: more work.

He rested his hand on his heart-shaped face, focusing his green eyes on the details of the meadow. A gentle breeze blew. The thought of the workload made his mood sink.

The squeak of the back door of his country home alerted him. It swung open and banged against the wall. The heavy footsteps were always accompanied by a loud, nagging voice.

He braced himself.

"You oblivious boy, _get up_. They're expecting you in the mines. Why do I always have to yell to get you to do what you're supposed to? You're an hour late at least. Beldagar, are you listening? I didn't have to take you into my house. Are you listening to me?"

His mind switched off. She called him oblivious. The word rang in his thoughts and the rest of what she said didn't register.

_Oblivious fits me perfectly._

He no longer heard any sound at all. He glanced back over his shoulder. She was still on a rampage. Her motions and speech slurred, drawn out in time. He didn't know how he did it, but when he wanted to turn it off, it was a simple click in his head.

He refocused on the wildflowers, watching them sway. The view magnified in his vision. His orphaned life never escaped him: his adoptive caretaker Maude was his faithful reminder. Maude the nag, Maude the monster, Maude the very bloated, ugly, balding hag that only yelled. Maude, whose weapon of choice was a straw broom.

His life was worthless, except to compensate the charity that they had so graciously bestowed upon him. What would it have been like to be left at any other person's doorstep? But considering the choices of their small foot-of-the-mountain village, it could have been worse—much worse. Since he couldn't physically leave, he mentally did.

He took a deep breath, thankful for his only escape. As long as he could be far away, there was a smidgeon of happiness. He would do anything to mute the constant attacks of her nagging voice. The clicking in his mind switched off. His internal clock was pounding for him to leave.

"I swear you are the devil's child," she continued, unhindered by his diversions. "I should let them take you up the mountain and sacrifice you to whatever beast they want. With my luck, nothing would eat you. No, it would spit you out lame, and then they would bring you back here and I'd have to wait on you more than I already do. Don't you ever think of anyone else besides yourself?"

He glanced back to the mountain. It was majestic like the gods they said lived on it. Granted, he only heard bits and pieces. All he really knew was what he could see, and the rest he made up. A small, treacherous road switchbacked up the side to something mysterious.

He imagined going and discovering it for himself, but a person didn't just travel up the mountain. It was supposed to be a holy, sacred place. In his mind, he painted towered structures all white and glistening in the sun. It helped the work go quickly. Two days in the fields, two days in the forests, and finally, the worst two days in the mines. He shuddered at the thought of the dark tunnel.

The wind felt colder, making him shiver. He stood, giving in to the Nag and the unyielding work that would never perish until he did. The Nag's actual blood children were privileged enough to be educated and skilled in trades with apprenticeships in the village and other communities. He, on the other hand, worked to pay back his debt of life.

He glanced to the small hovel of a home. He slept in the loft even though other beds had opened up. The Nag was still nagging. Her round, fat face was framed with thin, graying hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. She shook her head, continuing her rant. She was always so genuinely upset.

"I'm going," he finally said.

"You're going. You're going?" She had a broom in her hand. He had to watch out that she didn't swing it at his head. "You're standing there telling me you're going? You should have been going hours ago."

"I don't like going to the mine. There's something not right down there," he said, hoping for some sympathy. If she'd had to go down there, she would understand.

"You're ten years old. You're not a baby anymore. There is no being afraid of the dark now." She waved a tempered finger. "Now go."

He took a deep, begrudging breath and sluggishly walked toward the mountain.

## **CHAPTER TWO**

### **_The Mine_**

###

The mine opening loomed before Beldagar. He sat on his stone next to a birch tree, allowing every single drop of sun to warm him before the call into work. The precious seconds slipped by. A good twenty feet sat between him and the opening, and yet his eyes tunneled into the cold darkness. The shimmering walls changed from dark gray to pitch black the lower they went. Deep breathing echoed through the tunnels. They said it was just the wind.

Chills ran up his spine, causing him to shake even on the warm summer morning. He turned, observing the small grove where the other men waited for the call. Not all of the workers had assembled yet; as usual, he was on time. He dragged every single step there and imagined that his footsteps left dents in the ground.

The others finished their packed breakfasts, fastened their boots, and drew closed their coats. He was the only child, and as always, sat on the edges waiting for their movement. He had no coat, no breakfast, and no boots. Looking down at the oversized leather slip-on shoes, he felt jealous as always, thinking of the intense cold.

He tucked himself against a tree as his stomach rumbled horribly. He peered back at the light that would soon be banished from him for most of the day.

The foreman, Thard, walked into the area, followed by a stream of workers. Beldagar's heart sunk at the sight of the broad, brown-bearded man. His massive jaw overtook his face, making his relentless glare more intense.

"To your feet," his gruff voice yelled.

All the other workers stood. Beldagar took a few more seconds to sit and absorb the warmth. He caught a stern eye from Thard. He shuddered and jumped up, diverting his gaze to the ground. As he moved into the shadows and lined up, cold bumps rose on his arms. They all shuffled in after the foreman. A strange gust of air blew through the cave opening. Leaves rustled and deep breathing echoed like thunder.

Beldagar halted, glancing around to catch the reactions of the other men, but they all walked on like a thoughtless herd. His heart raced as he edged forward. Instinctively he felt the urge to bolt.

It was just the wind, he reassured himself. _It's just the wind._ A firm glare from Thard made him skip a step. He didn't want any more encounters with the man's massive fists. He still had burning pains from the leather strap, and nobody at home was sympathetic for bruises.

After a few more steps, the darkness shrouded him. He closed his eyes to adjust and block out the fear. The meager lanterns guiding the men hung sporadically between the wooden beams that stabilized the walls and ceiling.

The workers shuffled through, breaking off into the connecting tunnels. He followed the last group on its way down. The man-sized basket waited at the hole. Beldagar moved in with five other men, and the metal crank dropped them down. The descent was jerky as usual, scraping against the stone and dirt walls. Every time he feared the basket would fall straight down, but it continued slowly jerking until they jolted against the ground.

One man walked ahead, lighting the lanterns. Beldagar liked to remain as close to the light as possible. He looked back and forth toward the cave tunnels, where the darkness seeped closer. Rambling whispers echoed off the walls. Beldagar glanced around and rushed closer to the leading man. The hammers and pickaxes started their work.

It was his job to clean up the rocks and pile them in the basket to be hauled out. With shaky hands, he picked up the wooden bucket. A shiver rippled up his spine as the whispers returned, haunting him. During every trip back and forth, he hummed to block out the sounds that pierced his ears. He never could understand their message.

_Stop_ , he begged, dropping his bucket. Instinctively he clasped his ears. There was an intense silence. He hesitated, pulled his hands away, and the words murmured again, but slow. This time he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to understand. He huddled in the darkness as the words vibrated against him. His chest burned and a strange growling rumbled from the walls, breaking his concentration. His eyes flew open, and he snatched up his bucket.

The growling persisted, shaking his knees. He eyed the floor and walls, rushing toward the basket. A shadow flickered at the other end of the tunnel. It was mined back only twenty feet, and a small opening curved out of view, but no one ever went that direction. Even the thought of it made him shudder.

Whatever evil haunted him lived over there. He could see it frothing from the rock opening. The floor shook, buckling him to his knees and spilling his pail of stones. No one so much as looked his direction. The men continued to strike their picks against the walls, breaking the stone. Did they not feel the shaking? They should be trying to escape. They should be afraid.

The clanging and pounding persisted. Beldagar examined all the men while forcing his body to stop shaking. Their faces flexed with each mindless swing. The noise rang painfully in his head. When he blotted out the sounds with his hands, his vision spun. The next thing he knew, his head struck against the cold mine floor.

The darkness spread like a thick fog. It enveloped him, and a guttural growl vibrated his insides. His eyes darted wildly for the hidden monster. Then a warmth grew in the cold mine. The ground radiated an intense heat. He peered down at a strange, thick liquid flowing beneath the rock.

Something moved within the liquid. In only a fraction of a second, he could see a small portion of the huge, scaled beast. He screamed, heat burning his hands and feet. In vain, he tried to run while the monster's thick claws, double the size of a man, scratched to get out.

Beldagar's eyes flew opened as a hand lifted him from the floor.

"I'll teach you to sleep while on my watch," Thard said, and the boy braced himself as fists darkened his mind once again.

## **CHAPTER THREE**

### **_Rose_**

###

Nine years later, and three days before his twentieth birthday, Beldagar walked obliviously home from the mines. The day was bright with fluffy white clouds puffing through the sky. The tops of the tall pines swayed gently.

His shaggy brown hair hung past his ears. He brushed it back and felt the energy of the earth bursting beneath him. Maybe it was because it was the only thing he paid attention to, but he swore he could feel nature all around him.

Everyday his life was the same. He never saw an end to it, but he could also never think beyond it. Whenever he tried to imagine a life away from here, on his own, with maybe a wife, children, and home, it just felt empty.

As he passed the small stone and mud houses of the village, extra commotion buzzed in the center. He darted around a wooden shed and skidded in the mud. He peered out to a steady stream of individuals building booths and hauling lumber. Dozens of baskets and crates of goods were being carted into the village center, which normally was a patch of grass surrounding the water well. Now there were canvas tents decorated with leafy garlands and ribbons.

Then he remembered: every three years there was a festival. He had hardly ever attended. For him, attending meant watching elusively from a distance. The nights would be dressed with lanterns and dripping candles. The livestock would arrive and be put in pens. Soon the songs, which he only partly knew, would be sung. Then the villagers would go up to the very top of the mountain. Beldagar glanced up. The crowning clouds that always appeared above the pinnacle looked pinker and happier.

He scanned the village center until his eyes caught the back of a woman. She sat on a stump under the birch trees on the other side of the festival. Her golden-blonde hair spiraled down her back and a green-leafed crown sat on her head. She was dressed in a white pleated Greek dress that adhered to her figure.

Beldagar's mind pulled and his feet naturally obeyed. He stepped closer. His heart skipped. His feet did less walking—more like stumbling—and all the while he could hardly breathe as a deep anticipation built in his gut.

She sat alone, looking at the ground. He had to sneak around several of the tents, always searching for a glimpse of her along the way. He hoped that no one would notice him; all he needed was for word to get back to the Nag or Thard. He never quite understood why he was not able to attend the festivals, except that it was only for those worthy of it.

He obviously was not.

As he moved quietly around the birch trees, the woman glanced elsewhere. He slipped out in front of her only five steps away. Her face was young, near his age. Her peachy skin looked soft. She turned back to him with piercing, crystal-blue eyes. The direct contact was exhilarating. It only lasted for seconds before she diverted to the ground, away from his stare. It was the same as lightning striking his head and traveling to the tips of his toes. For a moment he was dizzy and a swirl of colors flooded his vision.

He stood there staring down awkwardly at her, wishing that she would look up and say something. He searched for words to fill the gap between them. Maybe it would be better if he just left. But even the uncomfortable weight of standing near her felt better than leaving. The thought of leaving was almost unbearable.

"What's your name?" He felt like his insides would burst, making him shift his weight constantly.

Her dainty eyelashes flickered up at him and then back to the ground. Her perfectly full, pinked lips were pouted and motionless. He waited for her to say something, anything, but she didn't. She stared at the ground in her beautiful white dress.

He told himself to turn and walk away and even willed his feet to move, but he never did. Instead he stood there waiting for her to speak, even though he felt the fool for doing it. He shifted his weight again and his foot moved to catch a quick step.

"What does it matter what my name is?" Her eyes once again darted up, but this time she looked to the top of the mountain before resuming her staring at the ground.

Beldagar turned to the mountain and then to all the banners and tents going up for the festival.

"Rose," she said quietly.

"Rose," he repeated. It was perfect for her. A strange tingling tickled his mind, a sense of déjà vu.

She sat like a statue. He could see the two of them in the small area of trees and the world spun around their frozen figures.

"Did you come for the festival?" He knew the answer already, but could not come up with anything else to say. She was not from the village. The surrounding settlements flooded in for the festival of the mountain every three years. At previous festivals, he recalled seeing a line of women wearing the same white togas with green leafy crowns. They held candles in their hands, the flickering glow illuminating their faces. He remembered thinking that they were beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever seen. But he had not been affected in any way. Not like now.

"Don't you know anything?" Rose folded her arms. She shifted her face toward him.

He silently absorbed her anger, weighed with all his apologies. He wished he had paid more attention to things, but his mind felt too open to control.

"I'm not allowed to come to festivals. The people that I stay with have a lot of things for me to do." He searched for more words to excuse his lack of knowledge, but couldn't come up with anything.

She looked up to him. Her expression was not angry, but the deep sadness in her blue eyes made him want to crumble. She nodded slowly, sympathizing. "They're not your family?"

He shook his head and she took a deep breath.

After a second of contemplation, she moved over a bit and motioned him to sit next to her.

Sheer panic rushed through him. Why would she allow him to be next to her? But his feet moved and he sat down beside her as though it were completely natural. She reached over and grabbed his hand. He didn't know why she would do such a thing. "Did you know your family?"

He shook his head again. "I was dropped off on their doorstep as a baby, with only my name to claim me, Beldagar." He had imagined the scene so many times, his chubby baby-self wrapped up in a blanket in a hand-woven basket, placed on the small stone porch.

She mouthed his name and squinted. "I belong to the mountain," she said softly. Her quick glance sent sparks up his spine.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't quite know. I just know that I'll never come down again once they lead me up. No one who's prepared for the festival of the mountain ever comes back down."

The ladies holding candles—their green crowns and sheer white veils made them heavenly. A deep wrongness flooded him. What happened on the top of the mountain, if every three years they went up and never came down? Worry for her grew in his gut. He stood instantly. Rose jolted back from his movement. He flushed, embarrassed by his suddenness, and diverted his attention to the grand mountain. The workers putting up the stands and tables all looked like the enemy now.

"It's probably best you go," Rose said. "I'm not supposed to be around other people."

He looked back at her, almost unable to leave until he spotted Thard's stern face approaching. He glanced at her one more time and gave a worried smile. "I'll come back, I promise." He felt the words stronger than anything before. Even his fears were small compared to his promise as he bolted back home.

## **CHAPTER FOUR**

### **_The Mountain_**

###

Beldagar ran up the dirt path, jumping on the single stone porch and through the door. The Nag stood at the stove with mounds of vegetables around her.

"Oh, you're here." Her sarcastic relief rang clear. "Where did you decide to get lost to today? I need more wood, and that means you get to cut it like you said you would last week, but as we can both see there is no more wood in here than there was before."

Beldagar looked to the sidewall half full with wood.

"What happens on the mountain?" he blurted to stop any more of her complaining. His question caught her off-guard. She half-squinted. It was true he wasn't the questioning or conversation type. Or maybe it was his desperate voice.

"What happens on the mountain? _What happens on the mountain_?" She puffed the air out of her lips and threw her hands up as she walked to the back of the kitchen.

"I need to know. A girl's life might be in danger."

The Nag turned back around, unimpressed. "You'll never know what goes on up the mountain. Only the holy and worthy go there. They do whatever they want with what goes up. I've heard that some they sacrifice and others go to the priests. And, well, we all know what happens there. Whatever it may be, it doesn't involve you."

"Have you ever gone up?" His point was clear. She was far from holy and worthy.

"Every three years we send up crops, livestock, and the young and beautiful to prevent our destruction. I wish that you were one of those." She contorted her ugly face at him.

The problem with the Nag's words was that he could not trust them. She lied and threatened so much that everything was far-fetched. He took a step back and stared at her, seeing her for the disgusting human she was. He had never really considered that he had any other choice than to help her, but something new pounded inside his chest. Today he felt different. Everything was changing, a refreshing awakening in his mind.

He had no loyalty towards Maude—any connections melted with her caustic words. For the first time, he was alive, flooded with the urge to leave and never come back. No matter what happened, it would be better than staying.

The expression on his face must have sat wrong with her, because she squinted with suspicion.

"Wood." She jerked her chin toward the door.

There was no way he was going to chop wood for someone who had plenty already. He bolted out the door past the woodcutting stump. The Nag yelled something after him, but he didn't hear it.

The lush green forest that he loved flew past his vision. His heart raced wildly, and his feet barely touched the ground. For several minutes he savored this new feeling, vowing to keep it forever. He would finally be the master of his own destiny. The air whipped past his face until a bright green light glinted through the trees, causing him to skid to a halt.

The light was too low to be the sun. It was almost like a falling star, despite its color. He looked back to the place where it had appeared and noticed long indents in the ground from where he had stopped. He bent down, inspecting the deep marks. Squinting, he shook his head.

A soft voice whispered in the air around him. "Beldagar."

He turned, a shiver rushing down his back, but only the forest answered his vision.

"Beldagar," the voice murmured again, but this time he could tell the direction. He spun to where he saw the light. Tall white birches spanned the area. Hesitantly, he inched through the trees to a meadow scattered with grass and wildflowers. There was nothing unusual. The sun gleamed through the trees, warming him. He let his head fall back, basking in the heat, and closed his eyes. Rose's face was etched there. He let out a deep, relaxing breath.

"Beldagar," the voice demanded. He jumped, spinning around, expecting to see nothing again. This time, a tall woman with black hair leaned against a tree. He shook his head, trying to dispel the madness. He always experienced voices, but now there was an actual person.

"Who are you?" Suspicion tinged his voice.

The slender woman wore a black velvet dress embellished with dark green satin. She eyed him with a strange glow behind her emerald eyes. He squinted, sensing something familiar in the shape of her face—familiar the same way Rose was, like a picture painted on the back of his mind, but only illuminated in the moment. Her long black hair swayed in the wind, reaching all the way down her back.

She jerked her chin away and her eyes narrowed.

He pulled his head back. "Do I know you?"

She took a calming breath. "Do you know who you are?"

Now he squinted hard. "Was that you who said my name?"

A smirk climbed one side of her mouth. "Oh, Beldagar. You never change." She straightened and ventured past him into the meadow. He turned with her movement.

"Wait. How do you know my name?"

"I'm here to help you, Beldagar," she said.

"Help me? How are you going help me?" His simple mindset couldn't grasp anyone wanting to help him.

"Yes, help you." Her eyes appeared genuine, but a guarded feeling stopped him. She hadn't answered his questions.

"I'll start by telling you the truth." Her expression was blank, but the statement gained his attention. "You are exceptional, Beldagar. You were placed here for a very special reason."

Questions flooded him, but he hesitated.

"Don't you have something important to do?" she asked, widening her eyes faintly.

Panic overwhelmed him, erasing his previous thoughts.

She coaxed him by lifting her eyebrows.

"To save Rose?" she suggested.

_Rose._ He hadn't forgotten about Rose, but now he was suspicious. "I have to save Rose. But who are you, and how do you know her? Why are you helping me?"

She tilted her head, staring at him. Her slow movements and piercing eyes made him want to turn away. There was something intimidating about her, yet it felt natural as well. He examined her closely, trying to figure out what about her bothered him. She appeared calm and didn't move or twitch a lot like he did.

"Don't you want to save Rose?" She blinked several times, waiting for him to reply.

"Well," he started, thinking before answering. She wasn't reciprocating any answers to questions either. "I don't really know if Rose needs to be saved. I don't know what happens on the mountain." He thought of all the horrible things portrayed over the years, about monsters and sacrificing people to them. It was all scare tactics before, but now the Nag had added details about the priests, and that those who went up never came down. He had no idea what was true.

The lady took a deep breath before continuing. "That is why I'm here."

Good. She was going to answer some questions. He waited for more.

"I'm here to help you save her."

"How?" He paused, stuttering through the questions in his mind, "My..." He was going to say "mother." It was the best explanation for the Nag, but in the end, the word couldn't claim her. "The woman that I board with says that they sacrifice them to the gods in the mountain, that every three years they have to do this, or horrible things will happen."

The lady rolled her eyes. "There is no god in the mountain. It's a great dragon."

Beldagar drew his head back in disbelief but hesitated. He had worked in the mines. He had seen and heard things that made him believe that a dragon could live in there.

Except that he was the only one.

"I've worked the mines most of my life. I would've seen a dragon."

"Not this one." She shied her head mysteriously from him. "He is calcified."

"Calcified?" The word boggled his mind.

"He has become the mountain."

"Become the mountain." He looked at the stony peak above the treetops. The mountain was majestic. He stood there not understanding what he was to do.

"Beldagar." Her voice once again pulled his attention back. "Dragons are attracted to one thing." Her green eyes glowed strangely as she talked. "They love gold and metals of the earth. The raw materials become part of them when they consume them. The iron seeps into the sinews of their armor. Copper is conducted into their organs and nerves."

Beldagar's vision went fuzzy as he imagined the monstrous beast fitted exactly the way she described.

"Gold is a most precious and pure metal that helps their blood to flow. They actually eat it, and that is why gold looks so veined within the stone."

He listened to every word.

"When a dragon has hibernated for long enough without moving on its treasure trove, it turns into stone. The heart will still beat and consume the life source, preserving it like an egg. Much like a phoenix, it will have a rebirth. Its last heartbeat will turn into an egg full of life but trapped in the mountain's façade."

She slowly and quietly looked up to the jagged peak. "You see that this one must have been large and curled up tight, making the formation jut into the sky." Her relishing voice echoed in his ears as she lifted her hand and waved it gently to the curve of the summit. She paused and peered back at him with a heavy stare. He wanted to turn away. Instead, he looked over her shoulder to the mountain. She did not stop staring at him as she continued. "They have taken a lot of the precious stone from it, and the life of the dragon can sense it."

Panic rushed over him as he imagined a dragon waking and cracking the mountain in twain, causing it to fall onto the foothill village.

"You have two days until Rose goes up to the mountain, and if she does, she will never come down." Her hair gently fanned with the wind, but besides that, her every feature was so motionless that Beldagar could have sworn she was a statue. He could hardly tell that she was breathing. "On top of that, they're getting close to the heart of the dragon." Her voice was like the wind, chilling his arms and legs.

The thought of Rose leaving and never coming back weighed like an anvil against his chest. This confused him; he had barely met her, yet he felt unequivocally bonded to her.

His whole frame tightened. "What am I to do?"

Her face was firm and tight. "I can help you."

"How?" The word blurted from his lips.

One side of her smile curved up at his desperation. "I can give you the strength that you'll need to take down the false priests of the mountain and save her from the waking dragon."

"How?" His hands tightened and he clenched his eyes for a brief second.

She tightened her lips in frustration—a reaction he was used to from all those years with the Nag.

"I have magic." Her eyes glowed, illuminating their emerald color. His heart fluttered and he felt like he was missing a very important piece of information. One that stared him in the face, but that he couldn't pinpoint.

"Who are you? And why would you do this for me?"

"I am a sorceress," she said, walking a few steps away. "I have great power, but there are some things that I cannot do. I am cursed."

Beldagar swung around her. "Cursed?" She seemed like a nice woman.

"There is a family that lives twenty miles north of here." She paused, casting her eyes to the ground. "This..." She waved her hand toward the top of the mountain and back to the foothill village, "...is all their doing. They have caused all this evil and must be stopped. I learned this, and they cursed me to never be able to touch them. I have tried to warn others, but they do not believe. So every three years, it all happens again."

He digested the story but didn't quite grasp it. "Why do they not live on the mountain?"

"They take all the gold from the mines and live a rich life and feed everyone the lies that make them work to their will. It keeps everyone in check. Don't you see?"

_Don't you see?_ He repeated her question in his mind. _No, I don't see._ A thousand thoughts ran through his head every day, demanding attention. Familiar moments recurred so often that it stumped him. It wasn't that these things were hard to grasp; they were already grasped and replayed routinely.

"What must I do?" His question brought a small, hopeful smirk to her face.

"I can give you the power to transform yourself into a great warrior. You'll have the strength of a thousand men and the ability to scale the mountain in seconds. All that I ask is that you destroy the family that has done this to the people."

At the word "destroy," Beldagar's stomach lurched and his eyes widened. A cough blustered out of his mouth.

"I know what you're thinking. It is a hard thing to ask. I cannot be free until they are dead, and neither can the village or the people." She took both of his shoulders. "It is a heavy burden for you to bear."

Beldagar stepped back from her grip and soaked in her request. He had to save Rose, and a dragon would soon awake, killing all the people. But he could not kill. Could he? He grew more aware of the surrounding forest. He had played in it all his life. The leaves scattering the ground gently rustled, and the smell of the tall, firm pines filtered into his senses. It was his only escape from his adoptive prison. His heart sunk at the thought of everything being destroyed. The people had never cared for him; they hated him. Yet, he sunk inside, sorry for their deaths. The sun drew close to the mountainside. Soon the colorful sunset would blaze through the sky.

He looked at her firmly. "I want to know who you are and how you know me."

She stared at him solemnly. "I knew your mother."

He sucked his breath in.

"We were as close as two people could be and not be sisters. She had a vision about you and what influence you would have on the world, but she died in childbirth. She made me promise to place you in this town. She said it was important that you grew up here and lived next to this mountain. You were meant to save this village... and her."

He knew she was talking about Rose but still didn't get how she was involved. "And Rose?"

"She's your soulmate," she said sadly. "I have watched over you your entire life. You're important, Beldagar. You are meant to free this people and me. It was destined long before you were born."

He looked up to find her walking back into the birch trees. Her figure glimmered in the fading sunlight, disappearing before his eyes like a ghost. The wind picked up, spinning the loose leaves in a torrent around her. When the small storm cleared, falling to the ground, she was gone.

Yet her voice echoed through the air. "I will give you until the morning of the festival to answer me."

## **CHAPTER FIVE**

### **_The Dilemma_**

###

Beldagar raced back to the village square, flying right past his house. The Nag bellowed his name, but he was absolutely done with her and her wretched household. He enjoyed the freedom of speed with the wind whipping in his face.

As he neared the square, he skidded to a halt. His feet dug deep into the earth. He twisted back, seeing the ground in fuzzy black and white. In a blink of an eye, the color returned, making him dizzy. The tents and wooden booths were almost all up, and people were starting to hang the banners and ribbons.

Beldagar scoured the area for Rose. There were several other young women wearing the same white dresses. He snuck around the perimeter of the celebration, peeking into all the tents. Finally, he caught a glimpse of her entering a canvas tent at the other end of the festival grounds. Her bouncing curls gave her away. He snaked around, avoiding Thard, who moved purposefully, blocking all the easy routes.

After crawling between some of the tents, he made it to the back of the one she was in. Softly he picked up the back of the tan canvas and peeked in. She was once again sitting alone, on a wooden crate this time, staring forlornly at the ground.

"Psst." He ducked under the canvas. "Psst." With the fabric on his head and his end half still protruding out of the back of the tent, he needed to get inside before being discovered. It would be difficult explaining his purpose. Rose was in an unbreakable trance. "Rose."

Finally, she looked up, confused, and then over to the canvas wall. He popped his head in more so she could see him. Her eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was filled with worry and suspicion, but a light grew in her eyes.

"I've come to tell you that I can save you." Beldagar spoke with hope, and yet a deep worry penetrated him.

Rose tilted her head. "No one can save me."

He wiggled all the way inside and Rose looked skittishly toward the tent opening.

"If someone finds you here, we could both be in great trouble," she warned him, moving to a closer crate. The room was full of them. Some were opened and had straw in them with ornate bowls and candlesticks. "If I'm found with you alone like this, it could mean serious punishment. They'll think that I've been..." She paused, glancing at him, embarrassed and shy. "De-flowered. I'll be expendable to them."

Beldagar furrowed his brow at her. "You mean they'll take away your name?" His mind could not grasp what she meant.

Her eyes widened. "Never mind," she said quickly.

"I can save you."

She squinted hard, wrinkling her nose, but allowed him to continue.

"A sorceress has told me the truth about the mountain and the priests on top. It's all a hoax." He paused, letting her process the news, but her face stayed stoic. "She says they worship the mountain because they think a god lives in it, but it's not a god. It's a dragon." While he spoke, he watched her expression. Her eyebrows furrowed as he continued. "She told me that it will soon wake up, because of the miners in the mine. They've taken a lot of its gold from the mountain."

Her perfectly full lips were pursed. "How does this save me?"

He shook his head. "She said that she'll give me the power to save you. She'll give me the strength of a hundred—no, a thousand men so I can save you." His words rambled out. After hearing them himself, he only half believed them.

Rose blinked her eyes several times.

He grabbed her hand and she gasped lightly at his boldness. "I promise you I am not making this up. She appeared to me in the forest and disappeared before my eyes."

"Why would she do this?"

Beldagar sat back, feeling a sense of heaviness return. "She's cursed. She says there's a family..." His voice wavered. "There's a family that cursed her, and they're the reason why we live the way we do. They keep us in ignorance to feed their greed. I have to do something to release her, and then she'll give me the strength."

"Do what, exactly?" Rose was now suspicious. She jutted her chin out. He wished he had explained it differently. To admit what was being asked was deplorable, and he didn't want her to think badly of him for even considering it.

"She wants them dead."

Shock widened her eyes. She pulled her hand away and looked to the ground. "You would do that?"

Was she flattered or horrified? Beldagar shook his head. "No." He sat back, still shaking his head, but doubt filled him. He didn't want to do it, but he also wanted to save her. "I don't want to kill anyone. I want to save you."

They stared at each other, and the problem only grew in the silence.

"If what they're doing is not right, isn't it fine for them to die? To release us all from a life that isn't good?"

"How do you know this is all true? How do you judge that?"

He thought on this. The sorceress sounded genuine.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do." He took her hand again. "Maybe we could just run away." The idea flooded him with elated hope. He could see the path before them clearly. He had the ability to live in the wild and take care of them. But would she agree to it?

"They'll find us," she said simply. He smiled, mostly inside, at her not rejecting being with him.

But he also knew she spoke the truth, making him feel instantly defeated. If they were found, he could plead that it was entirely his fault, that he had kidnaped her and made her come. They would kill him for such an offense.

Her soft voice drew him out of his worried thoughts. "It's selfish. Would you really sacrifice someone else's life for what you want?"

A deplorable feeling overcame him. His gut sunk, making him feel dirty and unworthy to even be near her.

His attention flickered back to an earlier portion of their conversation. De-flowered. The meaning popped into his mind, causing him to shake his head that he had not understood what she had meant. "De-flowered." He spoke randomly. "I get it." Then he raised his hands defensively. "I would never do something like that."

She blinked rapidly, silent.

He sat up on his knees and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry." He meant it wholeheartedly, afraid of scaring her off. The scratchy, grassy ground was hard beneath him. The canvas tent smelled musty. The wood from the crates smelled too. He wanted to grab a handful of straw to feel the texture.

"I'm not normally this dense." This was not true; he was normally a very mindless person. "It's not because I'm not smart. It's that everything around me is so familiar, so repetitious, that I'm confused about it. I feel like I've felt everything and seen everything before, and my mind swirls around trying to make sense of it. Sometimes I can't pay enough attention to what's really going on around me." He sputtered, fearing she would dismiss him and leave.

She squinted and then stared at the ground.

He lowered his head, forlorn until she grabbed his hands. She pulled him down to kneel with her. "I feel the exact same way," she said.

He shook his head, an electric validation shooting up his spine. He shifted his weight on his knees. It was the first time anyone had believed him. Her eyes beamed at him with such light he was afraid to blink and have it all disappear.

"What do I do?" he asked. He needed her wisdom. He needed her to tell him what was right and wrong, and what action to take.

"I don't know." She paused. "I don't know that we can be happy based on other people's destruction."

"But what if they are bad? What if they are the reason so many girls have lost their lives and been..." He paused, putting emphasis on the next word. "De-flowered."

"I will not lie to you. I fear for my life. I don't want to die." Her voice broke and her hand shook in his. "But I can't with good conscience allow another to die, especially if they are innocent."

Even though Beldagar thought the same, he could lose her. Her words repeated in his head: _It's selfish._

"What if they're not innocent?"

She debated whether this justified the acts. "Then they are not innocent."

Her answer left him with no resolve. The concerned furrowing of her brow told him she was in the same stuck place as he was.

"Let's think on this," he said. "I'll try to find out more about the family. I'll meet you tomorrow night at the north end of the festival, right when it becomes too dark for anyone to see us."

She agreed. He snuck back toward the canvas wall, but she stopped him shy of it and gave him a kiss on his cheek. The contact flushed his face instantly, and his heart pounded like a deep drum. He gave an embarrassed smile before crawling out.

## **CHAPTER SIX**

### **_A Day of Decisions_**

###

The sun woke him the next morning, splaying through the meadow he had fallen asleep in. His stomach growled, physically moving his belly. It was bad timing on his own part leaving his home. The Nag would be so angry without the opportunity to yell at him. But he knew the land well. It took him little time to gather nuts and berries from the forest.

As he searched, he wrestled with the problems that faced him and Rose. He had one day to decide. He thought of going to see the family in question, but even if he could steal a horse and ride it twenty miles north, he would be searching for a needle in a haystack. No, he couldn't wander around looking for something and miss meeting Rose that night. Maybe he could inquire of some of the villagers about the family. But he wasn't on good terms with any of them. The people detested him, though he didn't quite know why.

It didn't matter now that Rose was here, either.

He walked back toward the village, careful not to travel anywhere near his old home. He couldn't imagine the fit the Nag would have if he did. The middle of the town burst with frivolity as the festival started. The next afternoon, Rose would be gone. He wandered, eyeing all the games and salivating over the goodies. The livestock pens were full, ready for their trip up the mountain. A few more steps past the pigs, a large pair of feet blocked his path.

Slowly his eyes moved up the thick timber legs and green pants to the yellowed shirt and suspenders, then to Thard's stern, bearded face. He was chewing on something and spit it out of the corner of his mouth.

"Why are you here?" his hard voice asked.

Beldagar glared right back without flinching. "I have a right to be here if it's where I choose to be." He expected Thard to hit him, his preferred method of dealing with conflict. He hoped he would. A strange adrenaline pulsed inside his veins, waiting for the violence.

"You're going to abandon the woman who supported your life?" Thard spoke of a duty the Nag had no right to claim anymore. She had never acted toward Beldagar as a mother would towards a child. He knew that well after seeing the difference with her own children. He was just a burden to her, and now he was relieving her of that burden.

"Just as much as I've decided to not be your punching bag anymore."

Thard flinched in anger, a storm furrowing in his eyes. His face looked like it would burst in half, killing everyone around them, but he didn't do anything. It must have been all the eyes watching. Even so, Beldagar knew he now had to watch his back. Thard pushed past, almost knocking him down, but before moving on he spoke over his shoulder. "Don't think you'll ever make it in this village."

The words hurt, more than he wanted them to. Now, he had no place in it because he wouldn't be their slave. Thoughts of burning the whole thing to the ground felt justified. A dragon tearing it to pieces was even better.

He didn't know what to do or where to go. He couldn't travel north and back, he couldn't go to work, he couldn't build a home here, and he needed to stay away from Rose and meet her in secret. Now that there wasn't anything for him to do, his former desires to be lazy felt daunting. Doing anything was better than nothing.

He found himself walking north. The steps were all new. He'd hardly ventured far from the village borders, having never received time off from his work, even when he was sick. He could have been on his deathbed and a broom would hit him on the way out the door.

His feet shuffled against the hard dirt road. How long was it to the next village?

A wagon rumbled ahead. Beldagar hailed the driver, and the wheels clattered to a halt. A very odd, skinny man with thin scruff on his face peered down through the dark shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. His eyes had the strange glare of an animal in the night. His face looked horribly mean.

"Sir," Beldagar said, "do you know of a family living just north of here?"

The wagon man diverted his stern gaze to the road ahead. For a moment, Beldagar expected him to strike the reins and move along without a word.

"I just heard of them and wondered what they were like," he continued, realizing after he said it that it sounded ridiculous.

Finally, the man opened his mouth, showing ugly, rotted teeth. "Nobody goes to see the family." His words were firm; he flicked the reins, continuing forward.

Beldagar staggered back from the moving wagon. _The family. Nobody sees the family._

They didn't seem very neighborly, especially if nobody was allowed to see them. What were his odds of being able to see them, if he managed to make it there? He peered up and down the road. He could continue forward, but sooner or later he would have to turn back. The wagon slowly rattled away.

He didn't want the driver to think he had given up—which he had, but he needed the illusion to maintain his pride.

After waiting a couple of minutes, a hopeful feeling rushed him. He couldn't just give up. The road snaked through the tall pines. Everything was light and airy, but his mind wandered back to Rose and his problem.

His vision went black and white again, losing all the color of the earth. As he picked up his foot, he was no longer wearing his mangled boots but a strange pair of strap-leather sandals. Strange clothes draped off him, too. In a blink of an eye, his very surroundings transformed.

Heat radiated from the ground, flushing his face. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he wiped it clean with his arm. Sand flooded out of his sandals, covering the ground, making the forest scenery disappear. He lifted his feet, feeling the weight. The trees fell to the ground with the force of the sand, and large dunes sprung up. The sun clung to the height of the sky, pushing down on him. He sheltered his eyes. His hands and arms were dark, calloused, and scabbed.

The harsh, hot wind blew through him, making it hard to breathe. In the dust-filled air, he saw a woman's figure. A sweet voice echoed with the wind, and he caught sight of her eyes. Those sparkling blue eyes were the only color against the sand.

_Rose._

He turned around, and clay brick walls towered over his head. The alleys were narrow and he could hear the buzz of people moving and talking in a marketplace. He ventured down the hard dirt pathway but always found another wall with another back way. Small, square windows stood at the top of the tall brick buildings. He swore that shadowed figures looked down on him, just out of sight within the dark frames.

The buzzing grew louder as his steps quickened, but more walls appeared. He ran, coaxing himself that the end would come. A scream pierced the air, skidding him to a halt. _Rose._ His heart vibrated, panicking.

In a quick blink, the strange vision was gone. The trees and earth were back to normal. His head went fuzzy and his vision swirled as color burst back into view. He let go of his head and shook it several times. What was going on? He was going crazy.

But he had thought this his entire life.

Shuffling sounded from ahead. He jumped off the path behind the trees. Why had he done that?

Around the bend, someone was coming. It was a woman just older than him, carrying a bushel of sticks. She was very plain with thin brown hair that fell past her shoulders. He blinked. There was something familiar about her as well, but he couldn't pinpoint it. He stepped out onto the road as she drew near.

She jolted back and scowled. "What're you doing? Tryin' to scare me to death?" she barked and continued forward.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just headed up the road looking for someone. Could you help me?" He noted her slender, soft arms and squinted. They were out of place for someone who carried loads of sticks everywhere.

She stopped and glared.

"I'm looking for _the family_." He used the same emphasis as the wagon man, hoping it would signal exactly what he wanted.

Both her eyebrows shot up. "The family. You are going to see the family?"

Her use of the phrase made his mind whirl; it was an odd way of talking about someone. So impersonal. He could have been talking about any family. But obviously, it was not the family of the Glen or the family Smith; it was just _the family_. Beldagar shook his head, clearing his confusion.

"Yes. Could you tell me where to find them?" He looked ahead.

She puckered her lips. "You don't see the family unless the family summons you. And in that case," she paused, glaring at him, "you are taken."

That obstacle dampened his resolve. "Why?" he asked, his temper rising.

She glared. "You're obviously not worthy, so you couldn't possibly understand."

His mind whirled. Not worthy... Did this have to do with the mountain and the festival?

She shook her head pitifully, and he swore there was a glint of something in her eyes before she deserted him, heading on toward his village.

Beldagar watched her leave, his mind preoccupied with their conversation and his gut suspicious. He tried to pinpoint what he didn't like about her. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes. A pounding headache was coming on.

He couldn't even get help finding the family. More and more he had to consider that they were what the sorceress said. He turned back, abandoning his course. What choice did he have? No one was going to help him. He had no idea where to go, but even with all the excuses, failure flooded him. He was giving up, and that didn't sit well.

As darkness blanketed the sky, the stars appeared. He covertly made his way over to the north side of the village and stalked the base of a big pine. His mind was worse than ever as a flood of questions demanded his attention. He didn't even hear Rose sneak up until she grabbed his shoulder, scaring the breath right out of him.

"Ah." He spun around, noting the worry plastered on her face. "I'm sorry." He leaned an arm against the tree, catching his breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Her blue eyes sparkled sincerely. He couldn't imagine her ever doing anything wrong.

"No." He stepped closer. "I wasn't paying attention."

She nodded. "Did you find out anything?"

He shook his head, sorry that he hadn't tried more. "No. I had no way of getting to them. I did travel up the road a ways."

Her eyes widened.

"I ran into a man and a woman. I asked them both about the family." He paused, feeling like an utter failure. "The man said that no one goes to see _the family_." He added extra emphasis.

"No one sees the family." She scowled at the ground. "How would he even know what you were talking about unless they really were something great?"

"But we still don't know anything about them." His statement made them both hunch despondently.

"What about the woman?"

"She was the same, except even worse. She said no one sees the family unless you're summoned, and in that case, you're taken to them. She said that I couldn't understand because I wasn't worthy."

"Worthy? I'm worthy." Rose balled her fists. "I have no idea about any of this. I'm going up the mountain. You're just the same as the rest of them."

He felt her anger and hopelessness. "What should I do?" he begged, hoping for insight.

"I don't know." Her temper simmered.

He took her small hand. "I can't let them take you."

"You can't kill to have what you want," she said clearly. "Even I can't bear that consequence."

"Maybe if I talk to the sorceress, she'll let me see the evil of the family first." He was reaching for anything to fix the situation. "I can't lose you again."

Rose jerked back. "What do you mean?"

His head was fuzzy; he tried to shake it away. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm going to figure this out. You must trust me."

She looked his face over with worry. "I do."

He wished her answer had more hope. He kicked himself for not continuing forward earlier. Even if all his excuses were true, he should have tried to the very last possible minute. He was letting her down.

As he turned away, her hand stopped him. He came back and she took a small step forward raising on her tippy toes. Beldagar sucked in his breath as she inched closer.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Her voice was soft and her lips gently pressed with innocent intentions. The moonlight glowed on her face. He tenderly grabbed her arms. As much as he wanted to sweep her up, he froze.

"I'm afraid," he admitted.

Her hair brushed against his chin as she looked down. "Why?"

"Because if I don't succeed, I don't know if I'll be able to live with myself." His heart throbbed. The sweet scent of her hair lulled him to reconsider, but a great halting feeling stopped him.

She stepped back and an awkward tension built. "I understand. I can't ask you to do what will bring more harm to yourself."

His heart was breaking; she turned, fading away back to the festival camps. He wanted to stop her. A strength deep within his core pulled him back. _Don't make promises you can't keep._ He wanted to do everything he could to save her life, but his heart drummed with the heavy reality that it might be impossible.

## **CHAPTER SEVEN**

### **_The Family_**

###

All night long Beldagar struggled to sleep. Often he found himself awake under the stars, staring into the dark, glittering abyss. He couldn't shake Rose's face from his mind. Each time he worked to cast it out, it always rebounded. The images of her changed in between waking and falling asleep. She always had the same blonde, springing curls, full pink lips, and crystal blue eyes, but the length of her hair would change and the clothes she wore were different. For one dream they would be in the desert sands or by a vast ocean. The same love sparkled in her eyes.

He encountered her repeatedly, feeling the same attraction. Fascination lit his mind every time her face appeared. Then it all changed. He experienced her pain and worry over and over again. She died in diverse ways. Then the view changed from his to hers. He could see his own death and her holding him with deep tears rolling down her face. Each time the visions changed, he had to witness a tragic series of deaths between them.

His soul crushed and his heart clambered against his ribs, casting pain down every limb. The agony collapsed him to the ground next to her. He struggled to breathe and felt each dying beat of his heart before it stopped.

His green eyes glowed and his consciousness pulled out of his body. In the next blink, he was trapped within a strange, deep-red liquid bubble. He reached out to examine it and pulled back in surprise. His hand was opaque and the size of an infant in the womb—

Beldagar woke and jolted upright, holding his chest. Pain seared through him just like in the dreams. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds streaked across the sky.

It was the day of his decision, and he still had no idea what to do. He couldn't kill the family without Rose's view of him dampening. She would never see him the same if she knew what he had done.

Wind swirled around him. The gust quickened, drawing up the leaves and dirt. He shielded his eyes and peeked out at the torrent. It blasted into him.

The sorceress stood in its wake, enveloped in her green glow. Her eyes pierced him with a strange wonder.

"What is it, Beldagar? What have you chosen?" Her words echoed in the air and in his mind.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do." He shook his head. "I can't kill them. I don't even think I could do it if they were what you say they are. But I can't let Rose die, either."

She only stared.

"Can I see the family for myself? Can I make sure they are what you say?"

Her face remained firm. "I cannot take you there. I'm cursed and can't go near them. You would have to do it on your own, and they are inaccessible except for with the strength that I promised you."

He mulled over this information. He could always use the sorceress's strength to see if they were bad, and if they weren't he could give it back. Or maybe he could still use it to save Rose, and then give it back and find another way to help the sorceress. He thought hard about the consequences of deceiving her, but what other choice did he have?

"All right," he said, instantly sorry he had done so. A wave of panic flooded him. Over and over again his conscience demanded him to revoke the statement.

Her eyes flinched, but her expression remained otherwise calm. From her cloak she pulled out a dark vial of liquid. "You must drink this."

He reached out, but she withdrew the offering. "You must do this with your own free will. No one can have coerced it from you."

His heart skipped a beat with the pressure. Everything was happening too quickly, with no time for consideration and thought. There had to be another way, but all he could see and feel was Rose's death upon him. The inevitability of it was certain in his mind. If he didn't do something, she would lose her life.

He took the vial while studying the sorceress's face. She was so calm, yet her eyes lit with anticipation. He didn't fully trust her. His connection to her was strange and familiar, but there was no explanation.

He tipped the vial and dumped the thick, nasty liquid down his throat. It tasted like tar and ash. The second it hit his stomach, pain swelled within him. He buckled, instantly sick, and collapsed.

His eyes blurred in and out as thick welts blackened his skin. He lifted his hands and watched as they bulged in size. Long black talons grew off the tips of his fingers. His arms and skin continued to welt with a strange red glow beneath it. The skin expanded and thickened. The surface cracked like volcanic rock—hard and ashen, with burning red veined in between. He screamed in agony.

The ribs in his back broke, penetrating his skin. They shot out, lengthening. Large wings unfolded off the bones. His legs burned, bursting into greater size. The tearing of his body and flesh vibrated through him. Sharp claws burst out of his shoes as his feet expanded. The screams echoing in the air transformed to those of a raging beast.

His hands flew to his face as it flattened and lengthened. His fingers grabbed clumps of his hair that fell out and sizzled to the ground; in their place, knobs grew out of his head in searing, ripping pain. Reaching back, he grabbed one of the curved horns.

Finally, he completely collapsed, panting against the ground. The pain stopped and his lungs filled with invigorating air. The earth crumbled beneath his weight. When he had regained his strength, he arose, stretching out. His height was midway to the tall pines. Strength coursed in his limbs. His wings expanded, knocking through trees, cracking them in half.

The sorceress's eyes glowed emerald green, a dark-tinted smile upon her face. "You're magnificent."

At first, a whole slew of beastly growls answered her. He grabbed his throat, feeling his vocal cords, and stared down in fury.

"Calm your mind and the words will come," she said.

A heavy breath seethed out of the slanted nostrils on his face. Leaves blew up off the ground from the puff. He took a few seconds to relax. "What have you done?" His deep voice growled.

"I've set you free." A malignant expression grew on her face.

Beldagar stumbled back, seeing her clearly for the first time. He turned to run, crashing through the forest. He could not escape without destroying the area. With a strained glance, he looked around at the snapped trees. Then his head tilted naturally upward and the sun blinded his eyes. Instinctively, his long wings flapped open, moving the forest air around him. He could feel the muscles running up and down his back. The extending sensation was good, like stretching sore muscles. He pushed off the ground, letting his wings draw air beneath them. The weight of the world melted the higher he went.

Beldagar soared above the trees, casting a long shadow below. A wicked thought of landing at the heart of the festival and tearing it to shreds tempted him. He could take Rose and fly away, but imagining her terrified face due to his horrendous form kept him flying north. It was so easy to take off—like his new body already knew what to do.

It wasn't long until he found a large meadow and canvas tent. He flew over the dwelling, looking for a place to set down. Trying to slow, he strained to land. After cracking through a few trees and rolling into the ground to stop, he knew it would be difficult to sneak up on them.

He tried crouching to the ground, but the attempt was worthless. He stood out like a large boulder. He straightened, huffing out dirt. Voices sounded through the trees.

"No, I swear it came this way," a young girl's voice said.

"There is no such thing as dragons," a young man scolded, and then he moaned. "Father said we're not to travel far past the perimeter."

"It was large, with wide black wings. It was flying and then crashed. That's what that noise was."

"No, it was just trees falling in the woods. That happens, you know, and they do make sounds."

"No." Her small voice was forceful. "It was a dragon. I saw it."

He could barely see the two figures. The little girl had to be around six and the boy was older, around ten. They marched through the trees directly toward him, and his body stiffened. He tried not to move or breathe, but the truth made him panic. There was no hiding. Nothing could shelter him from view.

A shrill scream echoed through the air. Beldagar looked back. The young girl pointed straight at him. The boy, eyes wide with alarm, instinctively grabbed her arm, yanking her away. They both fled toward the family camp.

"It's a dragon," he screamed.

Alarm encompassed Beldagar's mind. He was hoping for a less obvious entrance. Bolting after the two children, he tore through the trees along the way. The children stumbled, glancing over their shoulders. He had no intention of hurting them, but this was a good way to get a look at the rest of the family in action.

Soon the great meadow opened up. Several adults flew to the children's aid, pulling them out of the trees. Beldagar sprung into flight, soaring over their heads, and crashed on the other side of their canvas tent. Two older children rushed out from beneath the shelter and gaped.

An older son stepped forward with trepidation, unsheathing a sword larger than his grip. Just behind him, a tall man—who Beldagar guessed was his father—unsheathed another sword and motioned for the women to go back into the trees.

The father spoke. "Cal, don't attack it."

The son only responded by maintaining his guarded position.

Beldagar examined each family member. Fear overwhelmed their expressions. They weren't wearing expensive clothing. Their home was not a grand palace. But this didn't mean anything. They could be traveling or enjoying the outdoors. He looked into their eyes in hopes of feeling and seeing their deep-rooted evil, but all he saw was a man defending his family.

Beldagar shook his head and glanced back toward home, toward Rose. Maybe killing just one of them would work. A rush of sickness swelled inside his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut as the image of Rose's dead figure appeared against the gray mountainside, her crown of ivy in her hand. His heart pounded and his knees trembled.

Beldagar stooped down, looking directly at the son. He expected to see fear and reservation, but instead, a rush of adrenaline glinted in Cal's eyes, and something else as well: a spark of light, a strength that made Beldagar want to shrink away.

_He's just a kid._ But Beldagar studied the father and saw the same spark.

"She has sent it, Liehr. He's here to kill us," the wife yelled, backing the younger kids into the woods. "Kill the monster."

Her words drummed upon Beldagar's ears. They knew of the sorceress. They knew she would send someone. He charged, but the son's smaller figure dropped, rolling away, dodging around him easily. Beldagar blinked. He twisted back and fastened his eyes on the adult. With two large steps, he closed the gap between him and Liehr. The effort should have been fruitless, but the father allowed it. Beldagar wrapped his clawed hands around him, plucking him off the earth.

"Take the family," Liehr hollered to his sobbing wife. "Save them. You know what's at risk." His last words choked out as Beldagar grasped him tightly. Beldagar roared into the air, but his intentions were to question him. He had to be calm to talk. He spun around, knocking down the tent as the son escaped to the huddled family.

He tried orienting himself, tried to calm down so he could speak, but in the end, the looks on the family members' faces prevented such emotions. He had to escape. With a quick jump, he lifted into the air. The higher the better, he convinced himself. The clouds would hide him.

He looked down at Liehr. The man's face wrenched with pain, but he didn't struggle. He had given himself to protect his family. Beldagar shook this from his mind. _It doesn't matter. I have to do this. I can just fly really high and let go and not see it happen. Then it will be done..._ He stopped himself from planning it out, not wanting to finish his thoughts. _I'll just do it._

He pushed with all his might to the top of the clouds, where only the sun lived. Liehr's eyes were filled with pain, hopelessness, but the shining light also beamed like a ray of glory. For a quick moment, they were connected and Liehr spoke. "Don't believe her lies. She'll only hurt you. Whatever she's promised, it will turn against you."

Beldagar looked away. The sun blinded his eyes. He screamed out Rose's name—which only translated to a horrible groan. He released his grip, letting Liehr slip out of his hands. Liehr's last words echoed in his mind as his terrified cries filled the air.

Beldagar's heart burst, shaking his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the screams. Regret surged through his head as the long seconds passed. _I have to do it for Rose_ , he repeated again and again. But a damning tension shot up and down his body.

Beldagar dove. Panic constricted his chest and rushed his movement. He tightened his form, shooting after the flailing figure like a falling star. Liehr's face clenched as he spun helplessly in the air. The ground was coming quicker than anticipated. Beldagar gauged their distance. He would have to slow down or they both would crash into the ground. He reached out in haste, barely grabbing Liehr's leg. Liehr stopped screaming and reached up as Beldagar parachuted his wings, jerking them both upright seconds before they were to hit the ground.

Liehr's leg cracked in his hand. Shrill cries bellowed from Liehr as he reached up, grabbing his leg in Beldagar's grip. Beldagar floated them down gently and laid Liehr down. He winced and cried in pain, trying to drag himself back. The family rushed toward their father but stopped just shy of him.

Beldagar turned his head away; as he did so the family advanced, obtaining their broken but very much alive family member.

## **CHAPTER EIGHT**

### **_The Story and the Lie_**

###

Beldagar flew away, weighted with the anguish of what he had done. Liehr would be lame from his rescue attempt. The sounds of his leg breaking in his hand repeated in his ears.

_How could I have done it_ , he thought, condemning himself. Their scared faces flashed in his guilty mind, and then Rose surfaced to the forefront.

His strength left him. He slowly descended to the ground. His clawed foot reached down to break his landing, but it buckled under him. He crashed, harrowing through the earth. Defeated, he lay in a disheveled heap, puffing out dirt and pain through his nostrils. Every part of him sunk into despair.

"Beldagar." He recognized the sorceress's voice but didn't bother to heed her.

His chest cracked in two. He screamed as the agonizing process began, reducing and breaking his bones. Everything transformed back to normal. The searing pain lasted for only minutes but felt like hours. His growls changed to human screams and in the end, he curled up in the broken earth naked, cold, and exhausted.

The sorceress's feet stood before his vision. Her emerald velvet shoes were fuzzy to his eyes.

A flash of images coursed through his mind—of his eyes glowing the same emerald green, but he was a baby wrapped in the sorceress's arms. It skipped through years of growing and then he felt an ultimate heaviness. Depression sunk into his veins as the green glow encompassed him, blinding his mind and memories. He furrowed his forehead, trying to make sense of it all.

"Beldagar." Her voice was forceful and cruel.

He cocked his head up to see her just as she threw down a set of clothes. He dragged the articles from his face. "Who are you?"

"Have you not remembered yet?" she asked, cold and malicious.

"I see you holding me as a baby."

She lifted her eyebrows, unimpressed. "I thought I had lost yesterday when you almost kissed her," she admitted.

He squinted.

"You are my son," she said, flustered with anger. "I put you on that doorstep. I have put you on thousands of doorsteps."

The earth vibrated under his hands as she shouted. He sat up and quickly dressed. "What?" His breath seethed out.

"I have been fighting for you to take my deal for centuries," she snapped. She spun and walked a few steps away before flipping back around.

"Who are you?" His question was no longer cordial. He could sense the darkness in her.

A shimmer of light cast over her face. Her skin flickered with illusion, less porcelain and pale. Dark-veined shadows hollowed around her eyes.

"Versaius." The name rang in his head, signaling what she said was true.

"Why would you do this to me?" His heart broke as he recognized her emotionless expression to be cold and uncaring. Why hadn't he seen?

"So you would finally follow the path that I intended for you. If it wasn't for that girl of yours." Her voice was venomous. The dark green glow encompassed her figure, leaving a thin black line around her.

"You did all of this to make me do what you wanted?" Anger welled up in his voice. "And what do you mean, I've been doing this for centuries?"

"I cursed you."

The ground shuddered. His eyebrows slanted together. "This monster you made me is a curse."

"Yes, but that wasn't the first curse I put on you."

A dark shadow covered the land. Beldagar looked up as it covered the sun.

"Long ago, your confounded Rose deterred you from following through with the path I had for you." Versaius lifted her hand, and the empty vial appeared in it.

Beldagar swallowed, remembering the taste.

"You don't know what it took for me to procure it from the seat of death." She closed her eyes in fatigue and then glared at him with renewed hate. "Rose made you weak and stupid, which is something I can tell has never worn off." Her loathing tone struck him to the very core. "I cursed your life to reincarnate until you decided to follow me. I didn't know, however, that I would be caught up in the curse as well. And Rose too. I guess soulmates take their lot together. Every time you have died, Rose dies not too far after. Each time, you have been planted again within my womb. I must birth you all over again and find a new home for you, because you've proven time and time again to disobey sooner and sooner when living around me. Your memory comes back fast, a tricky web to untangle before you remember. But now I don't have to worry about that; you have made the deal and will do what I ask until I'm dead."

He stared off into the distance. So his freedom and his mother's death were intertwined. "And Rose?"

She flinched. "Maybe Rose can live on now and have a good life. You both have been born and reborn so many times, and no matter where I place you in this world, your paths always cross. You unfailingly merge together, and this meeting point ignites your memories. Your lives end shortly after."

Beldagar could not come up with words. He didn't even know if he should believe her. As he thought of Rose, he couldn't doubt the connection. "What about the family?"

Her wicked eyes flickered at him and then to the north. "I knew you wouldn't be able to kill them, but at least you managed to lame one."

"Who are they?"

"They are my business. I'm sure you'll figure out the details when your memory returns."

Beldagar stared at his supposed mother, unable to believe her. He begged that it was all just a bad dream. "What happens now?"

Versaius homed her cruel stare upon him. "Now Rose goes up the mountain." Her mouth quivered, satisfaction plain upon her face.

What could he have done to make her hate him so? "Please." The words flowed out of his mouth. "Please let me save her. I'll go with you. I'll do what you ask. Just let me save her."

Versaius flinched. "You will already come with me. You will do what I say." She lifted her hand and a green light surrounded him, seizing every part of his body. He tried to fight back against it, but every limb and muscle was frozen; even his breath was strained. "You've made the deal. You are mine and will serve me, even if my power has to make you do it. Sooner or later, you'll fall in line and learn the easy way. You were meant to be my greatest weapon and became my greatest disappointment, but now you will obey."

With the slightest twinge of her fingers, the sensation of a thousand knives penetrated his skin. He yelled out, still frozen.

"Don't try to fight me, son." She scanned him closely. "My power has been built since the beginning of time. There is no stopping it."

She thrust her arm back, and the nearby trees burst in half, shattering to the ground. She widened her mouth, revealing a black hole. A shrill sound echoed out, and the earth moaned, cracking beneath her power. More trees shattered.

Her scream pierced his ears, making his head want to explode. He could feel fluid draining from his ears. Shadows flooded the area and her appearance changed. The skin around her eyes veined with visible dark threads and glowed green. Her hair flailed through the air, spinning in a torrent. He felt stretched from limb to limb.

Her voice vibrated through the air. "You will never leave again."

He shuddered under her weight. Clenching his eyes, he called on Rose's image. Something snapped free inside. His willpower expanded, pushing through the pain. The exertion of this fight shook his body.

The storm ceased, dropping her hair against her back as she studied him.

He stuttered, spitting out his words. "I will fight you every step of the way."

His movement against her power was no more than quaking, but her eyes flinched darkly at him. With another wave of her hand, he fell full-force to the ground. He landed face first, gasping for air. Sweat dripped off his head as the sweet feeling of release flooded him.

Her eyes widened. "Fine. I'll give you until midnight tonight. But if you cross me, I'll kill her myself."

His shoulders relaxed as the pressure seethed out of him. A natural hate built inside. He calmed his mind. "I can at least save her," he whispered to himself.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Versaius said.

"What?" He looked up, confused.

With a spark of dark fortune, she answered, "The dragon will awaken today."

## **CHAPTER NINE**

### **_The Plan_**

###

Beldagar raced barefoot through the forest toward the festival. With the sun rising to high noon, it was only hours before Rose went up the mountain and a dragon awoke. Great strength from his new curse propelled his every step, but his mind flashed with returning memories of his previous lives. He recalled the strange, deep divots in the dirt after his exerted running and his ability to shut his thoughts off from anyone around him.

He was the child of a sorceress, so some of her power had to live inside him. What if he possessed secret strength? He mulled over the thought and then flashed back to the current problem. _If only I could reach Rose and warn her first. Tell her I'll save her and to watch for me—for the new me._

Or, he could also divert the dragon from waking and fly up the mountain to end their traditions. He breathed fast as the plans flew through his head step by step.

He bolted through the village and down one of the dirt walkways. Music filled his ears, growing his agitation even more. He caught a quick glimpse of the festival banners and dancing as he passed the last few houses. Around the corner, the festival burst in full glory. The entire area teemed with ribbons and banners. Canvas tents and booths sold baked goods and pottery. The stocked pens had sheep, goats, and pigs.

At the center, all the women danced in white chitons, holding hands in a circle. They all wore ivy crowns, and the crowd cheered around them. Children dodged in front of him waving long ribbons on the ends of sticks. Beldagar stood still, watching the girls dance. They all had the same somber expression, and the only change was their differing features. There were three blondes, but Rose was the only one with curls. All the girls had long hair down their backs. Their white pleated dresses and soft features made them look angelic. If he had not known their fate, he would have cheered and celebrated with the rest of the village.

He had always thought that his first time at the event would be the biggest highlight of his life. Now it was tainted with the truth. He watched as Rose dance with the other girls, despondent and aware of her fate. A glimmer of bittersweet happiness swept over him.

She would live.

Around him, villagers looked on the heavenly beings. The men's stares were ravenous and bloodthirsty. Beldagar caught Thard's eyes. The brooding foreman glared at him with deep hostility. He didn't understand the hate the people of the village had for him. As the commotion spun around him, a searing pain shot through his head again.

He clasped both hands to the sides of his head. Voices twisted like a whirlwind inside his mind. The villagers' eyes turned a glowing emerald green. Their faces deformed and mutated. He shook his head, trying to dispel the distortion, but he couldn't.

It was all her. His mother had devastated every second of his life. Why did she hate him? What did he do to deserve so much retaliation?

He caught sight of Rose. A white light glowed around her, illuminating her porcelain skin. She looked up, and a sweet hope beamed from her face. His heart cracked in two. She squinted with worry as she beheld his expression, which he shook off instantly. He indiscreetly motioned for her to come. She lightly nodded and continued to dance. With a few blinks, everything turned back to normal.

Beldagar glanced back to Thard. The foreman continued his intimidating stare and Beldagar glared right back. Thard turned his attention to Rose. The intentions behind his wicked smile made Beldagar almost burst forward to rip him to shreds. The beast was growing inside—pushing against the seams of his skin to come out. Thard sneered a cruel smile. Beldagar took a deep breath; he couldn't change here and now. He had to explain the plan to Rose first, but he couldn't wait for the look on Thard's face when he stood head to head with him transformed.

Beldagar stepped backward, slowly retreating, ever watchful of Thard's frozen threat.

Soon the crowd encroached around him, providing a shield to sneak away. He drifted over to their tree and hoped that Rose would remember the last meeting. What if she didn't think to come to this spot? What if she just went in the direction he had nodded? He anxiously paced the area for fifteen minutes until he couldn't stand it anymore. He took a rushed step around the tree and ran straight into Rose, knocking her backward.

She yelped in surprise. He grabbed her shoulders and steadied her from the blow.

He felt foolish for his panic. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She brushed her arms, wiping away the pain, and then caught his hand.

He wanted to shy away from her affection, undeserving, but warmth surged through him, igniting his soul. It was the only comfort he was afraid of never feeling again.

"What happened?" She ducked to see his face.

He looked up pitifully.

Her expression widened. She gasped. "You killed them?"

"No," he blurted. Relief sparkled in her eyes.

She put a hand on his chest. "It's all right. I'm glad you couldn't do it. It would have made you a monster."

The word echoed inside his mind. _No_ , he thought, _I still became a monster._

"Rose, I'm still going to save you."

Her hopeless expression made him want to crumble. He didn't want to tell her the whole truth.

"The sorceress was not who she said she was."

Rose's jutted out her chin.

"She lied," he said. "I agreed to the deal, and she made me..." He stopped, remembering Versaius's explicit instructions. His supposed mother had chosen precise wording, so he was not coerced or forced to do anything. "I _chose_ ," he continued, ashamed that he was the only one to blame, "to do it." A damning feeling flooded him. "It gave me great strength, and I went and found that family...but they were nothing like what she said they were. I tried to go through with it, and I hurt one of them badly, but I couldn't kill."

She swallowed hard and blew out her breath.

"But," he said, stopping her from gaining too much hope, "I cursed myself. Taking her deal was what she wanted the entire time, and I've played into her hands."

Rose pulled him down to the ground next to her.

"She's letting me save you. In return, I've promised to go with her, to not resist."

With worry lines on her forehead, she asked, "Who is she?"

Beldagar's burden finally collided with reality. Tears stung his eyes, but he would not let them fall. "She's my mother."

Her eyes widened. "No." She shook her head, visibly upset.

There was so much he could tell her, but he skipped right to the end. "They'll take you up the mountain soon. Stay with them for now."

Apprehension crawled up her face.

"Trust me." He squeezed her hand, praying that she would find faith in him. "I'm going to try to prevent that dragon from waking up."

She instantly protested. "No. You'll die."

The truth sat on his lips, begging to be set loose. "The curse has turned me into a powerful demon."

Rose flinched.

"Please," he begged her, "It's the truth. I won't die. When I come for you, don't be afraid of me." She had to believe him, she had to trust him, or he might not be able to save her. The mere thought of that outcome devastated him.

Rose's eyes flickered with so many questions, but he couldn't handle answering them. He stood, pulling her up. "Don't be afraid."

She nodded even though she had no clue what to expect.

Beldagar turned and dropped her hand. An instant disconnect waved over him. He had no idea what he was doing. Spinning back around, he wrapped one arm around her slim waist and lifted her until their lips touched. The simple contact connected his mind to hers. A lightning sensation struck down from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and fingers.

He let go and bolted. With each step, his heart broke, and his desperation grew. A cold sensation crept up, chilling all the warmth out of him. His bare feet raced toward the mine as sharp pains pulsated in his head. For a brief second, he thought he heard Rose scream out, but he kept going. He had to make it to the quarry before the miners disturbed the heart of the dragon. Flashes of light and memory coursed through him—his mind awakening.

The forest blurred, and so many different places shot around him. Desert sands, ocean seasides, and rocky mountains with familiar people filling in the gaps of his memories. He shook his head, clearing them away; no previous life meant more than this one. He focused on the looming opening of the gold mine. The pain in his head continued as he finally hit the rocks, which crunched under his feet.

## **CHAPTER TEN**

### **_The Monster in the Mountain_**

###

Beldagar rushed straight into the mine. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes and darkness flooded his sight. He opened them again, seeing clearly. He blinked rapidly, enjoying the new night vision.

He headed straight to the back and the man-sized basket amid the striking sounds of the workers chipping away. The ground rumbled underneath his feet. Jumping in the basket, he signaled the miner in charge of it to lower him. The basket slowly descended. His anticipation to hit the bottom level made his stomach turn. He was grateful that Thard was not on site today.

He had no idea what to expect, only that he must prevent them from waking the dragon. If he didn't, he would have to stop the beast. The thought of going through the pain of transformation almost made him throw up. He had no idea how it worked, but it felt like a trigger in his mind, there beneath his skin like a natural part of him. The demon was only a thought away.

The basket jerked to a halt at the bottom of the shaft. As he stepped out, he couldn't quite tell what was going on. The workers should have been laboring along the left side, but there were none. He walked a few steps. The mining alcoves were empty.

Where were they? A chill ran up his spine. _Maybe I'm too late. Maybe the dragon already woke and ate all of them._

His fears quickly extinguished when voices came from the other end of the tunnel. His stomach lodged in his throat. The dark path down the right side loomed in his vision, and he shrank back at the thought of entering. They never worked that end of the tunnel. There was something wrong about it. He snuck toward the noises, even though urgency flooded him. The tunnel snaked around several times before spreading into a large cavern.

Moisture dripped down the walls. A group of ten men gathered at the other side of the area. Veins of gold streaked up the wall in an oval shape, heavy at the bottom and jagging up, towering at least ten men high. It gently curved out of the wall. A pile of boulders and rock sat heaped on the ground—the debris had fallen to reveal the dragon heart.

One of the men raised his pick to sink it in the golden surface.

"No!" Beldagar yelled. His voice echoed, stopping the miner before the swing. All of the men spun. They squinted to see him, and Beldagar moved out of the shadows. He stretched out his hands, cautioning them. "Don't strike the surface."

The men's dirty faces peered back. One stepped from the crowd. "It's high time you showed up." He pointed to the pile of rocks. "Start here."

Beldagar worked his way around the rough ground. "We cannot disturb this wall."

"What do you mean? It's gold." The man with the pickax pointed up to the wall.

"No." Beldagar made it to the golden trove and touched the cold surface. His skin pulsed against the heart, growing warm. "This is not structurally sound; we cannot take down this wall like this." He lied to divert their attentions away, but the gold shone in their fixated gazes. The men almost drooled at it, as though in a feverish trance.

"There's no such thing," the man with the ax argued.

Beldagar pled to their sanity. "Why do you think we don't work this wing of the mine? We're not to be in here."

"I don't care." The miner swung the pickax at his head and Beldagar barely ducked enough to miss the attack.

He blinked, completely stunned, but gold fever glimmered in the man's eyes. The miner rebounded and struck him across the face. The sharp pain spread against his cheek as he tumbled to the ground. His eyes ignited, glowing an emerald green. The low gleam was visible in a small puddle beneath him.

Suddenly it clicked.

It was the eyes.

When he looked at Versaius, he recognized his own eyes. Everything bothering him flashed clearly into view. The man on the wagon on the way to find the family—his eyes had a glint of green.

The woman carrying the bushel in her long, slender arms and smooth hands. It was the same apparition in her eyes.

It was her.

All the miners solidly stepped back.

"He's a monster! Kill him," one man yelled.

Instant war broke out. Ten men rushed him. Beldagar pushed back the first on-comers, casting them into the air. His strength surprised even him. Attacking fists pounded against his face. He thrashed, knocking away the waves of men, scattering them around the cavern. Their cries echoed in his ears as they flailed away.

The boils surfaced on his skin, sending shooting pains. He caught sight of a pickax directed straight for his head. With one clawed hand, he caught the wooden handle. Terror spread across the man's face as Beldagar kicked him back, launching him against the furthest wall.

Rocks pelted him from behind. He spun to the other attackers and sheltered his face, grimacing. The pain of his transformation seethed through him. His legs cracked beneath him and his growled cries vibrated off the walls.

Men fled. Out of the chaos another pickax cut through the air. Searing pain shot through his head as he jerked out of the blade's path.

It lodged undeniably into the dragon egg behind him.

The deep pounding of a heart resonated through the cavern. The mobbing men froze as the large egg on the wall illuminated, glowing red.

The gold veined webbing melted out of the cracks. Beldagar stumbled away, rushing toward the exit as lava flowed from the faults. He could see the illuminated features of the balled up creature within. A wicked eye flickered open, and the wall burst, pouring liquid heat into the cavern. The men fled but were quickly consumed.

Beldagar ran wildly into the tunnel toward the basket. His claws were completely formed as he batted the basket from the shaft and jumped up the hole. Grasping the walls with his claws, he pulled his feet up just as the lava surged beneath and continued down the tunnels like a hot river. Raw heat filtered up the shaft. He clawed and scrambled up. Faces peered down the hole.

"Run," he screamed. Each head disappeared. He heard their pounding footsteps and yells as they raced toward the exit. Suddenly, his back ribs cracked open. His scream distorted into growling cries that pierced the air.

A roar answered from beneath.

Chunks of wall caved in as he crawled up. As he shot one hand out of the shaft to grip the floor, his wings sprouted fully, ripping his back in half. His skin burned and hardened with the red, glowing cracks. He didn't even feel the heat of the dragon anymore. The searing pain shot through his head as his horns grew. The ground behind him shook and splintered, falling into the depths of molten rock.

A massive, steaming claw broke through the ground, sinking into the rock surface. Its arm had thick-shingled armor that glowed with heat. Beldagar spun clumsily and ran for the exit as his body continued contorting. He glanced back. The mine roof slowly crumbled. Then, he saw it.

The dragon.

The monster moved upward, glowing red from its lava birth, shielding its features. Its long torso continued up as the lava reached the main tunnel, seeping to the exit.

Beldagar burst out of the mountain, halting at the petrified faces of the escaped miners. His wings spread out as his horns curled backward behind his head. It was only a couple of seconds until the lava flowed like a river out of the mine.

He skipped a step to move, sending the men running and screaming toward town. He turned back, facing the mine. The thick heat split around him. Reaching down, he touched the steaming liquid. The red cracks in his skin ignited. Strength surged through him as the heat extended up his arm. The side of the mountain above his head erupted. Rocks poured down and fire burst through the gaping hole. An elongated head emerged. Inch by inch the dragon crawled out, its plated armor still glowing red from its molten rebirth. Beldagar flapped his wings, taking flight.

The dragon scanned around and then focused solely on him. Its head was crowned with spikes that continued in columns down its back. A long tail whipped out, crashing into the mountainside. Ceremonially its wings spread in the air. They were larger than his. The creature reared on its back legs and roared into the sky, releasing a long streak of fiery breath—fire that had no effect on him. As the dragon snapped its sharp jaws and dug its claws into the mountainside, Beldagar felt a predestined cringe.

He flew higher, hoping the dragon would move along rather than engage in a fight. A trail led up the mountain with a line of people halfway up. The dragon jerked its head the toward the group, sensing their movement; it climbed up the rocky surface. The people stirred with alarm at the rumbling sounds.

Beldagar dove. The beast instinctively whipped its head around, and its claws widened. Thick talons sunk into Beldagar's shoulders, grabbing him. They collided into the rocky mountainside. The dragon snapped at his face, but he held the monster at bay until it kicked his bottom legs. The force launched Beldagar back into the air. He barely oriented himself without toppling to the ground. The dragon crawled to the other side within seconds. Beldagar shot into the sky, pursuing.

The sudden sight of the festival party made his worry grow. They were quickly progressing up the mountain with the dragon closing in on them.

Then, Beldagar spotted her. Rose, standing out of the crowd, caught her first glimpse of his transformed figure. Her eyes widened. His body went rigid, making it hard to breathe.

He dove and grabbed the dragon by the tail. The party scattered up the mountain like sheep. The dragon whipped around, swinging its tail out of his grip. The motion knocked a few people down the cliff. Beldagar's heart wrenched, helpless to rescue them. The instant threat to Rose propelled him into action.

With a jump, he landed on the dragon's back, rolling him further down the trail. The dragon sunk its teeth deep into his shoulder. Beldagar roared with pain and heard cracking sounds from his torso. With a leveraging push against the rocks, he launched the dragon off and over his shoulder. It rolled only a few times and jumped, spreading its wings. Then it caught the air, soaring down toward the trees. It let up just above the village, and its interest piqued when new screams sounded.

Beldagar rushed up the mountain to where the group had been. The path was empty. He scurried up around the bend. Fleeing figures disappeared around the next winding bend. Rose was being dragged along by none other than Thard, who held a jagged knife to her back.

An angry roar echoed across the mountain, blowing straight through them. Beldagar barely felt the vibration in his throat. An animalistic drive snapped in his brain. He plowed straight for them, knocking down huge boulders.

Thard's eyes widened and he yanked harder on Rose's arm. Beldagar skipped straight to the top, to the great hidden secrets of the mountain. Men old and young scanned the commotion. All of their heads were shaven and they were dressed in long white robes. White pillars circled a round marble platform with chains and ropes fastened to them. Behind an altar with a dead sheep on it, a man stood with another jagged knife.

Thard and Rose rushed through the stone archway to the top. They stopped shy of the ceremonial surface. Thard grabbed Rose by the hair, forcing her down, and lifted his knife. Beldagar dove straight at him.

People fled as he crashed on top of Thard. His claw clenched around the arm holding the knife and squeezed. Thard's deep cry forced out as his bones splintered. He dropped the blade and grimaced in agony. They both looked to Rose. She sat back, panting with fear.

Beldagar's mind whirled. _Does she know it's me saving her?_

Her lip was bleeding. For a second he was frozen, afraid of hurting her, afraid that what he was doing was hurting her.

In a flash, she bolted from the ground, grabbed the knife, and lodged it into Thard's chest.

Beldagar immediately let go.

Thard grabbed the protruding hilt, glaring straight into Rose's eyes. Her panted breathing rushed out and tears streaked down her face. Thard slowly dropped between them. Her whole body shook as she stood there like a scared statue.

Rose swallowed. "Beldagar?" Her voice was hoarse.

Beldagar knelt and lowered his head to the ground. His wings folded around her. He jolted as her hands touched his head, gliding over one of his horns. His entire body relaxed and his words were able to slip out. "I'm sorry."

A sound rushed from behind. He straightened, and Rose staggered back toward the stone archway. "Hide," he growled.

As Beldagar turned, a swarm of priests charged him with long poles. His eyes went fuzzy, and all he could hear were the priests' shrieking cries and the cracking of their weapons echoing in his ears. A faint green flickered around him. His body was moving without his consciousness. When his senses took back control, he witnessed blood and crumbled bodies.

Panic rushed him. Would he lose the ability to control his own mind? He had murdered them. He panted as the wind blew, chilling his heart.

The main priest glowered behind the altar still, his eyes full of rage. The rest of the offering party fled down the mountain.

"You have tainted this holy place, you unworthy demon." The old priest pointed his knife. "The gods of the mountain will deliver justice upon you."

Beldagar started forward. The priest stumbled from the altar and around a rock wall.

Heat built inside Beldagar with every step. Their grand marble home and golden statues—it was all as he thought it would be. He trailed the priest through a courtyard and back behind the structures until a great pit stopped him from going any further. Uneasiness crept up.

The priest bellowed, "I am the holy servant of the gods. You may not lay your hands upon me."

Within the pit, impaling spikes jutted from the rocky surface. It slanted down into a crack in the mountainside. A piece of mountain worked as a shielding barrier from the wind on the other side of the gap. Bones and skulls adorned the pit with leafy crowns and shredded, blood-soaked togas. When he imagined Rose there lifeless, something cracked inside him. He grabbed the priest, sinking his claws into his belly. The priest shrieked and grasped his torso, shaking. Beldagar flew above the deep crack filled with the bones of the worthy, beautiful sacrifices.

"I do the gods' will," the priest bawled as they pushed higher into the sky. "I am a servant."

Beldagar held him up to view his suffering face. His pleas were endless, but they did not hide the green glimmer. The priest shook violently, revealing the disgusting monster within. His face contorted. Beldagar loosened his grip and the priest slipped from his grasp. His cries echoed through his ears, ending with a crunch in the sacrificial pit.

Beldagar didn't feel a thing. No regret or guilt. His mind flashed back to the man he had almost killed earlier that day and the great difference. He moved slowly back to the top of the mountain judging the place that sustained their evil practices.

He barreled through the marble structures. The walls and pillars broke in his hands and from the force of his body. Everything crashed to the ground. He picked up a pillar and batted the golden statues down. Next, he ripped the altar up and hurled it down the mountainside.

As he spun around to destroy the other pillars, he stopped dead in his tracks. Rose stood on the edge of the platform staring at him. He heaved out his breaths, trying to calm down, and then sunk. Her hand clasped over her mouth and tears streaked down her face.

"What have we done?" she asked softly.

He didn't understand. He pulled on his horns in grief as a pained look swept across her face. She grabbed her head in great pain.

He recognized it well, the sharp headaches and flood of memories weaving around each other. She was remembering their past lives and their entwined curse. He could only hope that now she could be free.

Versaius's voice vibrated in his mind. "Beldagar."

Screams echoed up the mountain, along with the deep roar of the dragon. They both looked to the sound. Beldagar swept Rose into his arms and cradled her safely against his chest. Her simple touch made all the confusion and pain inside cease. He took to the air and circled down to the destructive movement of the dragon upon the village. People fled from all directions while the trees burned, flaking into ash.

Beldagar flew a good distance away and set Rose in a meadow. He launched back into the air, ignoring her protests. He had an important errand to attend to, and he didn't want her to witness it.

He homed onto the center of the village and dove straight for the dragon. To the very last second, he did not let up and knocked them both deep into the ground. The earth crumbled in his wake. Angry cries vibrated the air as the dragon sunk its claws into him. Beldagar braced against the attack. They rolled, snapping and clawing at each other. The dragon managed to escape his grip. It reared, blowing fire directly at his chest. He absorbed the heat, and new strength spread through his body.

The dragon growled. It jumped and latched onto his shoulder. Beldagar rolled backward, taking the dragon with him.

In a quick glimpse, he saw the Nag crushed beneath them as they rolled. They cracked the forest to the ground and lay in the heaped earth. The dragon stood and shook its head, retreating. Beldagar reached out to grab it. As he did, a green glow captured his hand.

"No, Beldagar. Let him live. Creatures like these are hard to come by and can be very useful." Versaius's voice echoed through his mind. "It's time."

He helplessly watched as the dragon escaped. Taking a deep, succumbing breath, he stopped trying to overcome her power.

"Let me say goodbye," he pled, looking through the forest to where he had left Rose. The green magic disappeared. As he jumped into the air, the aftermath of his encounter with the dragon throbbed through his body. His thoughts turned to Rose.

## **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

### **_The Last Deal_**

###

He let himself down gently in the meadow, the heaviness of his battle straining his body. Rose raced from the trees toward him. His heart pounded with relief. Her face was calm and unafraid. He wanted to crumble to the ground. She stopped a few steps shy of him and glared over his shoulder.

Beldagar stretched to his full height and spun. Versaius stood in the meadow with them. The look on her face was cold, indifferent.

"Versaius," Rose said.

Beldagar glanced back, surprised.

"How could do this to your own son?" Rose asked.

"Exactly," Versaius barked. Her voice shook the ground like thunder. "He is my son. He will do what I want. He will be what I want, and you cannot stop that now." She gazed at him gloriously. "He made the deal and has broken the first curse. We are all free of it now." She paused. "You have the strength of the depths of hell. You can find that death is very easily bargained with if you have the right price." Her eyes glowed deeply.

"Tell me the truth." Beldagar said. "It was you. The man on the road in the wagon. The woman holding the sticks. I don't know how, but I know that they were you, tricking me the whole time."

Versaius's eyebrow flickered up. "Yes. My encounters with you have to be quick because you can see me better than anyone else. You can catch the truth in the shadowed façade. It's because we're blood. That's why I had to be brief while talking to you. I had to turn away so you couldn't see my real face. Now get this over with." She jerked her head toward Rose.

His mother's hatred for Rose seethed beneath her skin. He was positive Versaius would kill her on the spot. Beldagar turned back to Rose and blocked her view of his mother.

"You must go now," his hoarse voice begged. "I've set you free. You must live your life now."

Rose's eyes shone up at him. He crouched down and she raised her hand to his face. "No," she said firmly. "Just because you can't remember yet doesn't mean I will forsake you." She glided her hand across his cheek. "I see you. I cannot be without you. I will not let her win."

He forced her hands from his face and stepped away, looking at Versaius. His heart sunk. He had to let her go. "I am ready," he said.

Versaius glared. A wooden staff with a green, glowing orb appeared in her hand. She swung it around her head and broke the glass against his foot. It didn't hurt, but a great heaviness flooded his leg.

He looked down as his limbs turned to stone. The rock crackled up, freezing him in place. Satisfaction gleamed on Versaius's face. He turned to catch Rose's horror.

"No," she screamed, holding her hands out.

He imagined her staying broken-hearted to watch over his statue. "Please, Rose, be free."

"No!" Rose dashed the last few steps and jumped straight into his arms. He caught her, and a green light flashed from his eyes. The stone traveled up his chest, enveloping them together. The last thing he heard was Versaius's protests as the curse traveled up his stretched wings, covering them to the tip.

◇◇◇

Versaius glared at the statue of Rose cradled in Beldagar's arms. Anger steamed from her nose as she considered the cost of Rose's actions. She sensed movement behind her and glanced back, but returned her glare to the statue.

"Come out, sister. No need to hide in the shadows. I will allow you to shine once again."

A white, translucent silhouette flickered behind her shoulders. A soft voice blew through the air. "You know you can't control the consequences of this."

Versaius mulled through the problem.

"You'll never be able to disconnect them."

"I'll have my day, as I'm sure you remember." Versaius gloated, glancing back at her sister's faded ghost. A long, white cloak and hood covered most of her features. Only her light hair billowed from behind the cowl.

Versaius drew in a deep breath, allowing her retribution to build, strengthening her resolve. "My greatest strength, dear sister, is that I am very, very patient."

◇◇◇

_One year later._

The statue of Beldagar and Rose sat entwined and lonely in the meadow. Long ivy vines adorned it, hiding its visible features. The sun steamed against the horizon. The last golden, burning light splayed through the sky, setting the land aglow for the last seconds of the day until it crept beneath the darkening earth.

As the final light left, the statue was swept with a flood of green. A crack split through the torso of Beldagar. It crumbled and spread through his arms, legs, wings, and back, until portions of stone tumbled to the ground. His clawed hands broke free, gently catching the weight of Rose as the stone skin released her.

She felt weightless in his hands, but his knees buckled to the ground. Rose grabbed his arm, bracing herself to be laid on the ground.

Pain streaked through his body. He arched backwards as it rushed him. His cries bellowed through the air, and his eyes crushed closed as the bones broke, reducing his wings into his back. Through his haze, Rose clung to him, trying to help him during the retransformation.

Finally, after the seizing pain ended, he lay panting in the dirt, sweat dripping off him. He lifted his head to see her. All his memories were there.

"Rose."

Her eyes sparkled, and a smile grew up her sweet face, dispelling all the darkness away.
**The End**

**Thank You for Reading**

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**About the Author**

One thing to know about T.K. Thompson is that she has a few FREE BOOKS to start out her series, so visit this link to grab an entertaining read for FREE. (Click Here)

If you love to read and review books, then consider joining my review team (Click Here).   
​Now that you know these awesome facts, let's continue  
T.K. Thompson is author of YA fantasy series, The Dark Eve, epic adventure packed novels with an endless amount of fun. She also enjoys co-staring in The Ride Home Review Podcast, where film pundit Dustin Thompson and she do their best to improve movies by rewriting the story on the fly.   
She's a huge fan of Thrillers, Genre Movies, Dancing with the Stars, Stranger Things, and Gerard Butler...sing to me, Phantom. She loves chocolate milk...mmm...good, steak, and I am pretty sure she eats a whole Costco apple pie in December.   
As a mother of three awesome children, T.K. is usually helping out with homework, dropping kids off at (dance, gymnastics, and soccer), or cooking some awesome concoctions with her hubs. Thank you Food Network. She loves writing entertaining reads filled with deep characters and stories littered with twists and turn leaving everyone on the edge of their seats. She dabbles in sewing stuff...note it doesn't always work out. She is a fierce writer with Netflix always playing in the background. A girl has got to have some noise in her life.   
Email: TKTHOMPSONBOOKS@GMAIL.COM

**Acknowledgements**

I want to thank all my family and friends, they believed in me before I did, and each and every single one of them did great things to support and encourage me. I also want to give recognition to the personalities from my life that made their way into this book, especially my sisters, you are all special to me. I want to thank my husband, Dustin Thompson, for being the man I needed in order to fall madly in love and believe in a life that I never thought existed. He is my partner in the creation of this story. His talents and skills have created the images for the imaginations that read this book. I want to thank God, for giving me the hard times that inspired this story. To those who understand that I plant my own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring me flowers. I don't believe in white knights on noble steeds. I believe in my own will power and strength to carry me beyond time and circumstance as long as God's guidance still favors me.

**About the Author**

One thing to know about T.K. Thompson is that she has a few FREE BOOKS to start out her series, so visit this link to grab an entertaining read for FREE. (Click Here)

If you love to read and review books, then consider joining my review team (Click Here).   
​ow that you know these awesome facts, let's continue  
T.K. Thompson is author of YA fantasy series, The Dark Eve, epic adventure packed novels with an endless amount of fun. She also enjoys co-staring in The Ride Home Review Podcast, where film pundit Dustin Thompson and she do their best to improve movies by rewriting the story on the fly.   
She's a huge fan of Thrillers, Genre Movies, Dancing with the Stars, Stranger Things, and Gerard Butler...sing to me, Phantom. She loves chocolate milk...mmm...good, steak, and I am pretty sure she eats a whole Costco apple pie in December.   
As a mother of three awesome children, T.K. is usually helping out with homework, dropping kids off at (dance, gymnastics, and soccer), or cooking some awesome concoctions with her hubs. Thank you Food Network. She loves writing entertaining reads filled with deep characters and stories littered with twists and turn leaving everyone on the edge of their seats. She dabbles in sewing stuff...note it doesn't always work out. She is a fierce writer with Netflix always playing in the background. A girl has got to have some noise in her life.   
Email: TKTHOMPSONBOOKS@GMAIL.COM

