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The Platinum Dragoon

With his world facing inevitable destruction at the hands of an ancient dark entity, Vesryn Haerel performs what he believes is one final act of defiance. However, instead of the embrace of death, Vesryn finds himself waking up in a strange new world full of magic, monsters, heroes, villains, gods and demons. As the only survivor of his former home, he must now carve out a new place for himself in a world that seems to be in constant conflict. {Going to be posting this onto Royal Road. My pseudonym on there is also Huntingfate so keep an eye out.}

HuntingFate · Movies
Not enough ratings
19 Chs

Chapter 6

Vesryn jumped into the air, twisting his body in midair as the two swords passed by, one under him and the other above. His feet touched the ground for a brief second before he pushed off again to flip out of the way of another attack. Narrowly avoiding the swinging longsword from the shorter knight, Vesryn pushed out his hand as a ball of fire shot towards the man's exposed face, in hopes that these knights shared the same vulnerability to fire as the other undead. Just as he thought his attack would hit, the larger knight quickly moved in the way and used his greatsword to block the attack. The small bolt of fire struck the surface of the sword, the flames splashing into the air around the knight's head as the force pushed him backwards, his boots grinding against the stonework. The sounds of metal striking stone echoed through the hallway while streaks of fire illuminated cut through the shadows as the trio continued their battle.

Using his environment and jumping from the walls and ceiling, Vesryn avoided the relentless assault from the two knights. Even with their undead and seemingly mindless state, the knights acted in unison. Using his small form to his advantage, Vesryn dived between the openings as he thought of a plan. Although the undead knights were more skilled than the other undead, it appeared as though they were driven purely by instinct and maybe remnant memories of their past lives. Their attacks became more frequent the closer he got to the room at the end of the hall. Whatever was in that room, these two knights were driven to protect it long after their deaths.

Vesryn took a deep breath before sprinting towards the open door, a plan formulating in his mind. The two knights rushed forward in response, their weapons cleaving through the air as he drew closer. A bolt of fire shot towards the greatsword wielding knight, forcing him to move his weapon to defend as Vesryn jumped over the other knight, avoiding the incoming attack in the process. Landing on the other side of the two knights, Vesryn pushed both hands out in opposite directions, one towards the larger and seemingly slower knight and the other towards the room beyond the open doorway. Two streaks of fire pierced through the air towards their intended targets as Vesryn jumped up to the ceiling to avoid the longsword swinging in his direction. As he flipped over and pressed his feet against the ceiling, he watched as the larger knight was forced to defend against another ball of fire as the other knight sprinted towards the room, the other fire bolt flying just ahead of him. Vesryn pushed off the ceiling and launched towards the room, the shorter knight having just managed to get in front of the fire bolt before turning around to block the attack.

The ball of fire smashed into the longsword, the force of the impact pushing the smaller knight backwards as Vesryn appeared directly above him. Landing on the knight's shoulders and grabbing his collar with his left hand, Vesryn used his right leg to stomp down with all of his strength on the hilt of the longsword, forcing the blade out of the knight's grasp, as he pressed his right hand towards the man's head that was suddenly beginning to age and shrivel. Magic rushed towards his hand from within his body and his surroundings, as he could hear the heavy footsteps of the other knight sprinting down the hallway.

"Fire!" Vesryn called out as flames burst forth from his hand, wrapping around the knight's head and flowing underneath the armor. The rusted metal glowed red as flames poured out from the cracks and openings before consuming the undead man in his entirety. Dropping to the ground, Vesryn picked up the longsword and jumped out of the way, avoiding the greatsword that cleaved through the air where he was previously. Raising the newly acquired weapon, Vesryn parried another strike away from him before putting some distance between him and the remaining undead knight. The two blades clashed as sparks filled the hall, Vesryn wielding the longsword with precision as he parried the devastating strikes away from him. His eyes focused on searching for an opening until he noticed a peculiarity in the longsword he was wielding. The weapon seemed to be drawing magic from the surroundings toward it, much like how he did when casting spells. An idea came together in his mind as he sidestepped an incoming vertical slash.

Vesryn pushed forward, going from a defensive approach into an aggressive onslaught. Quick cuts, slashes and thrusts aimed at the knight's wrist, arms and legs caused cracks to build up on the ancient armor and left wounds all along the undead's body. Although he noticed that the wounds didn't bleed and were closing up as quickly as he inflicted them, the armor however continued to break apart until finally he managed to cause a fist sized hole to open up in the rusted metal. Side stepping an incoming slash, he reached out with his left hand to grab the hilt of the greatsword as he thrust his weapon forward with his right, the silver blade piercing through the opening in the armor and into the undead flesh beneath.

"Fire." Vesryn whispered as he twisted the blade. Flames enveloped the length of the longsword and erupted from the opening of the armor. He expected the undead knight to resist as he kept a tight grasp on the large weapon, but no such struggle occurred. Vesryn felt a gaze fall upon him as he looked up at the knight's face, only to see the once gray and cloudy eyes were now deep brown. He saw a soft smile cross the man's face as he looked up at the ceiling and relinquished his hold over his weapon. Instantly, Vesryn watched his face age and shrivel at a rapid pace before flames erupted from under his armor to consume the rest of his body. With a loud thud, the large knight fell to his knees, motionless, as Vesryn stood there with both swords in his hand.

"Hello? W-Who are you?" A soft voice called out through the hall. Vesryn looked up towards the open doorway, his ears twitching as he attempted to determine where the voice originated, but he failed to hear anything other than his own breathing and the raging fire behind him. Walking slowly towards the room, he found no signs of anyone else other than him. The room appeared to be an old study with a number of different desks and bookshelves that were all in different states of disrepair, and in the center of the room was a full body portrait of what was clearly a once beautiful blonde haired woman now worn down with dark circles around her eyes and bloody scars along her wrists. A woman that seemed to be looking directly at him.

"Can you hear me? Please. Please say you can hear me." The voice called out again, only for Vesryn to realize that it was coming from the portrait, or more specifically it came from the woman in the portrait.

"You... can talk?" Vesryn asked as he stopped at the doorway, not wanting to step any closer to the portrait.

"Yes. I can. Who are you?" The woman answered as she moved to sit upright on her chair.

"Just call me Ves." Vesryn answered as he tightened his grip on the weapons.

"Ves? That's all?"

"Yes. I'm not giving you my full name. I don't know if you're a cursed painting or not. Now who are you?"

"It's not the painting that's cursed. It's me. My name is Guinevere. I am... I was the queen of Camelot. Before everything fell apart." The woman answered with a look of sorrow on her face.

"What happened?"

"Morgana, she brought an army of the dead and monsters into our walls."

"Is that the name of who was responsible? Morgana?" Guinevere nodded in response as she looked up.

"We tried to fight back, but for every person we lost, their army gained another. For every one we destroyed, there were ten more to take its place." She placed her right hand over her heart as she looked down at the floor.

"Did no one think to burn them?" Vesryn questioned as he watched her expressions closely.

"We did and it worked at first. At least until she killed most of our knights, witches and wizards. But then Arthur died, and everything fell apart. I tried to take his place, to lead, but it just wasn't enough. Merlin tried to help, but he couldn't. Not with Morgana continuing to summon more monsters every time he tried." Guinevere answered as her shoulders slumped and tears streamed down her face.

"And what happened for you to be trapped in a portrait?"

"I'm not sure. I remember her bringing Arthur back out, using his corpse as a puppet to fight the other knights. I remember his sword piercing through my body when I tried to stop him. I remember the look in his eyes, like his mind was still trapped inside his body. And then I remember holding him in my arms before lighting us both ablaze. After that, I woke up here in this portrait." Guinevere continued as she placed her hand over her stomach and closed her eyes, her tears mixing together with the blood and dirt on her face.

"Camelot was supposed to be our dream come true. A paradise. Where muggles and magicals could live together without conflict. It was OUR dream! All four of us! And she destroyed it! And I was forced to watch as our home was reduced to ruin and our people forced fleeing in order to survive. Gwain and Lancelot tried to free me from this...prison, but instead she turned them into my wardens." Vesryn looked over his shoulder at the two bodies behind him as Guinevere clenched her fists, balling up the fabric of her dress in her hands.

"Then these two..."

"Yes. The larger one is, was Gwain, an incredibly kind man despite his stature and appearance. He always put others before himself, even if they didn't want him to. And the other was Lancelot, smart, and loyal to a fault. He was like the little brother I never had, always pretending to be more serious than he really was." She answered with a sad smile as she looked past him.

"She made me watch as she turned them into undead puppets before trapping their souls in their body. I've sat here watching them, day in and day out, standing guard right outside my door. For so long, I've prayed that one day someone would find us and set us free." She continued before turning her focus back to him.

"And then you appeared and you freed them from their prison. I wish there was someway to repay you but I'm afraid there isn't much I can do in this…state." She said as she closed her eyes, furrowing her brow. Vesryn remained quiet as she looked as though she was considering something.

"No, wait. There might be one thing I have left that I can give you. In my desk, there. The bottom drawer on the right. If you knock three times on the bottom, pause one second and knock another two times, it should reveal a false bottom. I never told anyone about the compartment and it was enchanted so everything in that drawer should still be intact. I left my pouch with all my notes and materials in it. Maybe you'll find some use out of it." Guinevere explained as Vesryn stepped into the room and walked over to the old desk. Carefully following her instructions he watched as the bottom layer of the drawer seemed to turn illusory before disappearing altogether to reveal a single black leathery bag that looked just big enough to fit one of his hands.

"Don't let it deceive you. That bag was enchanted by Merlin, so the inside is much bigger than it would be normally. Maybe about a quarter the size of this study. It's also made of wyvern hide that one of our friends gave us so it's rather durable."

"Thank you. I'll make good use out of it." Vesryn said as he held onto the pouch.

"It's all that I can give you. But if you don't mind, might I ask something else of you?" Guinevere asked as she stood up from her chair. Her eyes looked towards the ground as her long hair covered the left side of her face. Vesryn turned to look at her, the look in her eyes telling him exactly what she was about to ask.