Suicide mission

Five years ago

The tabletop shook with a mighty thud. Plates cluttered pitifully, and wine from an overturned glass flowed past my nose.

It wasn't easy to lift my aching head from the table, but I managed and stared, my vision blurred, at the man who had bothered me. I didn't like him at first sight. He had a thin face with large pockmarks and an aquiline nose, sharp, deep-set black eyes, and dirty red dreads. He was dressed like most freebooters, in a brown sweater and leather vest. But somehow I wasn't sure I hadn't met him before.

I tried to remember who he was, but my drunken brain refused to work.

"It's you!" the guy said with a note of triumph.

I raised my eyebrows.

"I know it’s you!" he repeated, sitting down in the other chair.

"Me?" I shook my head negatively. "No, it’s not me."

Shaking my head was a mistake. The room spun around and I fell back onto the table. The flashes started to dance in front of my eyes, I felt sick.

"You were in the Patrol," the guy wouldn't stop.

"No, that’s a lie," I muttered, not even trying to lift my head.

"Oh, sorry, I was wrong," the stranger didn't insist. He called for the bartender and ordered a drink for two.

He didn't seem to want to leave. Actually, I wouldn't mind drinking for free. I’d been drinking for weeks, but who cared?

"I'm Reggie," the guy introduced himself. "Black Reggie the Hunter, have you heard of me?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, cursing in my mind. Now I remembered him!

Many years ago, when I really worked in the Patrol, it was me who commanded the squad that arrested Star-Lord's gang. Reggie was his assistant. The bastard resisted, so I broke a couple of his ribs.

I was right not to tell him about the Patrol. I was in no shape to fight him.

"Hey, you got a name?" Reggie wondered, as he saw that I wasn’t talkative.

"Ar... Arch... Archie," I said on the third try.

"Wow! It's a shame to drink alone."

"It's none of your business anyway!" I snapped, trying to sit up straight. It was hard, but I finally did it, even though I had to put my fist under my jaw.

"You're my hero!" Reggie hummed. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing but you. I'm just drunk."

My words were partially true. I had been drinking for the past few weeks, even months, trying to block out the hellish pain that filled my heart after Jemma's death. The pain wouldn't go away, but the alcohol, by temporarily shutting down my consciousness, kept me from going insane. It wouldn't let me climb the high mountain and then take a step into the abyss.

"You're not a drunk, you're a fool," Reggie declared.

"One doesn't prevent the other," I objected.

 Reggie let out a short laugh and suddenly asked me, "Hey, do you think you could kick me in the face?"

I gave him an appraising look. "No problem, as long as there's a reason."

Reggie hummed with satisfaction, "How about fencing?"

I stretched my hand over the table and tried to control the trembling in my fingers. I couldn't.

"It sucks," Reggie admitted.

"No shit," I disagreed, "I can make holes in you right now. Only they’ll be curved."

Just then the waiter brought our order. Reggie placed the glass of electric purple liquid in front of me and stood up, grabbing both bottles.

"Sober up quickly," he said. "I have an interesting proposition just for you."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

"It's very profitable," he winked.

"Where's the trap?" I wondered.

 Reggie made a grimace. "No traps. It's just that they know me there and I have a job to do. I already took a deposit."

"Give it back," I advised him. "I'm not interested in your business. And I'm certainly not going to stick my neck out for you."

"It's not that bad, brother. But it's fun. Are you going to drink in this pub forever?"

I looked around. "What's wrong with the pub? Nice place!"

"Until the dragons show up," Reggie said with a meaningful look and headed for the exit.

I watched as he walked out, letting bright sunlight, puffs of frosty air, and armfuls of snowflakes into the half-dark, smoky room.

"Snow?" I thought, a little surprised. "Where the hell did I get to?"

A had no answer to that question, or to the other: how did I get here? All I could remember was the table in the corner, drunken brawls and the unrelenting pain that had just flared up with a new intensity. To get rid of it, I grabbed the glass and downed its contents in one gulp.

It was as if I had swallowed sulfuric acid. My stomach burned, my throat tightened, I couldn't breathe in or out. Tears rolled from my eyes and smoke almost came out of my ears. I stood up sharply, swaying, and propped my hands on the edge of the table. "Reggie, that murderer," I thought, "if only I could catch him!"

The clamps on my throat loosened and a terrible coughing fit came over me. I searched the table for water or wine, but could find nothing.

Someone's heavy hand slammed into my back, nearly breaking my spine. The coughing stopped and I took a few deep breaths.

Something had changed. I didn't immediately realize what it was.

The space around me became sharp and my mind clear. All my other senses were also extremely heightened, and the symptoms of prolonged drinking disappeared completely. I felt sober for the first time in a long time, and also angry.

"How are you doing?" someone asked beside me.

I turned my head slowly. The man was as tall as he was strong. He looked like a bear, had a big belly, a thick beard and a heavy gaze.

I just shrugged at his question.

"The Scratcher is the best cure for alcohol intoxication!" he announced.

"As if I need it!" I yelled and turned to the counter, intending to get drunk again as soon as possible. Who the hell was this bastard to interfere into my life?

"Hey, bartender! Another drink!" I yelled.

"Kess! No more drinks for him!" The big guy turned around and dropped his heavy arm on my shoulder, making me sit down.

"What the hell do you want from me?" I snapped at him with a curse.

Instead of answering, he introduced himself: "I am Doro the Magnificent."

"I got it," I nodded. "Just that... about ‘Magnificent’ - don't believe it. It's a lie."

Doro frowned. "I think you don't know who you're dealing with."

"Nope! By the way, I'm not dealing with you. You're the one who wants me! So if you don't like me, get out."

Doro shook her head. "You may be young and arrogant, but you’re not stupid. You remind me of an old friend of mine. He was killed by a dragon."

"What does that have to do with me?"

His face changed. "I just wanted to help you. You look lost."

Again a face with fine features and huge emerald eyes, red curls flattering, appeared before my inner gaze. I searched for a familiar drug, didn't find it, closed my eyes and answered in a hoarse voice, "I don't need your help. Nobody in the whole universe can help me."

"Come on, man," Doro patted my shoulder. "All problems are solvable, except death."

"You're right, old man," I agreed, "you're absolutely right. There’s nothing you can do against death."

I went outside and breathed in extremely cold air. It was frosty and there were no clouds in the sky. The electric white sun and the blinding glow of the snow. I seemed to see a pair of dragons flying far away. Were they real? What kind of world was this?

To tell the truth, I'd been to many different worlds of Lace, I'd seen so many wonders, and it wasn't easy to surprise me. But dragons... This was the first time I saw them.

Huge winged reptiles pierced the sky like a pair of fighter jets - beautiful, graceful, dangerous. I was enchanted by the flight of these fairy creatures as they approached the village, and soon I could see all the curves of their webbed wings, their scales gleaming in the sun, and their pointed, predatory, bare-toothed muzzles.

One of the dragons bowed its head lazily, sneezed fire, and the house at the edge of the village went up in flames. The place filled with screams and the crackling of burning dry wood; frightened people scurried about. A ragged boy ran down the street. He stumbled, fell, got up and kept running. Actually, he had no chance of surviving, for the flying hunter was almost upon him.

Barely understanding what I was doing, I ran toward the dragon. The huge wing flashed before my eyes, something knocked me off my feet and threw me aside. I felt a blinding pain in my head and blacked out.

I was unconscious for a few minutes, but when I opened my eyes, it was all over. Dragons were flying away, to the north, toward the mountains on the horizon. Fires were raging in the village, and people were frantically bustling about.

The boy? No, I didn't want to know what had happened to him.

I heard the creak of snow under someone's feet and Doro approached me. He gave me his hand and helped me to get up.

"Only an idiot would try to fight the hunting dragon," he said.

"There was a child," I tried to explain.

Doro shrugged and added, "Let's go to the tavern. You don’t need to get a cold."

"What about..." I turned my head to the fires.

"They'll manage without you," with this, Doro pushed me in the right direction.

We sat down at the table in the corner, and a familiar vendor brought us a hearty meal.

"What's the occasion for the feast?" I asked.

"Your second birthday. Do you realize you almost died?"

"Really?" I asked, annoyed. "What a pity!"

"Start eating," Doro muttered, "no time for regrets."

I did as he said and found out that I was extremely hungry.

"You are one of them, right?" Doro said after a while.

"One of whom?" I tensed.

"You’re like that guy Reggie," he explained, "you’re from that strange place called the Lace."

It was unexpected. The Lace, the backside of reality, the shortcut between different worlds, the wonderful creation of the Great Master, was a place few people had access to, and it was not something to talk about. So how could this local know about it? Was he not what he seemed to be? No, I would have felt a "Lace Bug", he wasn't one of us.

I put the piece of ham aside and looked closely at my new acquaintance. "How did you know about the Lace?" I asked.

"I know a lot of things," Doro replied. "Reggie can be very talkative when he's drunk."

I nodded. It was an acceptable explanation. However, I didn't want to talk about the Lace, so I changed the subject.

"Is it always like this here?" I asked Doro.

"Like what?" he asked in return.

"Dragons, fire..."

"Only in winter. In summer, these beasts fly away to Twelly's land."

I didn't ask who Twelly was, I just nodded. Doro continued, "The snow dragons are the curse of the Hallydarians. Long ago, one of the first rulers of this land angered the Ice God, and his punishment was dragons. For many centuries they have come with the first snow and stayed before spring, burning houses and eating people. "

"And everyone puts up with them and takes them for granted," I interjected.

"Don't say that, stranger!" Doro slammed his fist down on the table. The plates jumped up and the tabletop cracked. Maybe there was something to his ridiculous nickname "Magnificent". "We know how to fight dragons. But to get rid of Twelly's curse, we have to kill their leader, and this is impossible."

"Why?"

"He lives in the northern mountains and never participates in attacks," Doro was silent for a moment, thought a bit and added, "Many brave men have gone to the mountains, but none of them came back."

There was silence. I looked thoughtfully at the empty plate, remembering the saying that out of ten dragon hunters, only one survives, the one who didn't go hunting.

Fight a dragon? The prospect tickled my nerves and awakened the excitement of battle. It was the first time since Gemma's death that I was interested in anything. Of course, I understood that I had almost no chance of winning. But it was better than ending up drunk and dead in a ditch. I smiled at my thoughts. Yes! For sure.

"Listen, dude! What's your name?" Doro reacted in a moment.

"Arthur."

"Listen to my advice, Arthur."

I didn't want to listen to his advice, but he wouldn't accept my objections.

"Well?"

"You better go back where you came from. Our problems are none of your concern."

"I can decide for myself what my concern really is!" I said and stood up.

Doro grabbed my arm, "You're an idiot! You'll die!"

I pushed his hand away and headed for the exit. Now I knew exactly what to do.

It was a long way to the Hallydarian Mountains, where dragons lived. At first I traveled with merchants, but after the border settlement I went alone, because this land was taboo for the natives.

To tell the truth, I ended up better equipped than when I started. I didn't tell anyone where I was going, but somehow everyone knew. On this occasion, everyone felt it was their duty to make a gift to the hero. If I had taken everything that was brought to me, I would have had to travel on a cart. So, to avoid offending anyone, I assured everyone that I would take the gifts on my way back, and I chose only what could be useful. The fact that I wasn't supposed to come back anyway, and that the whole thing was a suicide mission, was nobody's business.

After a few days, I found myself standing on a windswept mountain pass, the frozen land of the Snow Dragons before my eyes. I had a sword forged by the local blacksmiths especially for the heroic savior, and a set of assorted knives. I had no idea how to fight the flying flamethrower with a sword. Then again, I had come here not to win, but to die a heroic death. Of course, it would be great to take the dragon leader to hell with me, just so that the bards who had already started composing their immortal poems for this occasion could finish them with dignity... Oh my God, I couldn't believe what was going through my head!

I hid from the wind in a crevice between the rocks, ate, rested, and went to meet the dragon. I knew it was waiting for me. The giant, dazzling white reptile circled above my head every day, but it never tried to greet me. I understood it: no one would be happy to see the one who wanted to kill him.

Then again, it wasn't hiding from me. As soon as I reached the pass, I saw it: a reptile capable of swallowing me whole was perched on a ledge, its tail blocking my way. I stopped about ten paces from him, and we looked at each other for a few minutes.

 I wondered if dragons could talk. Even if they did, I had never studied their language. So how could I explain to this beast who I was and why I had come? There are few things that look more stupid than an idiot with a sword jumping around a dragon that doesn't even understand what it's supposed to do.

While I was thinking, the dragon blinked its yellow eyes and said in a language I understood, "Wow, he is here! He’s stubborn!"

"Yes, I am," I agreed, trying in vain to summon some anger against this reptile.

"You are stubborn and stupid," the dragon sighed heavily, a trickle of steam coming out of its nostrils. "Do you really want to fight me so badly?"

"Why not, really?" I said thoughtfully. "It is said that dragons will leave Hallydar if you are defeated in a fair fight."

The dragon coughed a couple of times. Did it have a cold or something?

"So you want honor and glory," it said. "Do you think a corpse needs them?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Just one question: is there any point to this fight? Will your relatives leave or take revenge?"

"We are all created by Icy Twelly and depend on his decision. But you can ask him yourself," the dragon said.

"How do I find him?" I asked sarcastically.

The dragon turned its head to the north and announced, "He is already here."

I looked in the same direction. The wide front of the blizzard was coming at us like a wall. A wave of prickly snowflakes hit my face, the wind howled, and Twelly's frosty presence chilled my bones. I realized I was about to freeze to death without ever having fought a dragon.

"You sought death," an alien voice sounded in my head.

"I did, but not this way."

"This is an easy death," the voice continued. I understood that it belonged to Twelly. "With the dragon, it will be painful and you will suffer."

"So be it. At least I'll know I didn't die in vain!"

"It will be in vain if the dragon survives."

"What if it doesn't?"

"I will keep my end of the bargain," Twelly promised. “Still, you are a fool!"

After that, he was gone. I found myself standing on the mountain path with eternal snow all around me. The dragon was sitting on the stone, but its pose had changed.

"So, you've been accepted," the reptile said, turning his huge body toward me. "But before we begin, I want to know your name!"

"Why do you need it? For the menu?" I joked nervously.

"For the history," the dragon announced. "And don't worry about your body. You will be buried like a hero!"

Actually, that was a small comfort to me. Considering that the corpse wouldn’t care.

"My name is Arthur Corney," I shouted over the roar of the icy wind. "Now it's your turn."

"I am Ing-Davriel," the dragon announced, "the first of the great Twelly's creations."

"Okay. Can we start now?" I asked.

"Let's begin," the dragon agreed, and at the same moment its attacking tail lunged at me.

I jumped into the crevice between the rocks and missed the deadly projectile by a hair. I threw off my gloves, drew my sword, and turned back to the open space. The dragon attacked me again with its tail, I dodged and slashed at it with my sword. There was a metallic clang and sparks flew. "Has this beast armored its tail?" I thought.

The dragon started coughing again. No! It was laughing! To it, I was nothing but a funny toy. You bet! With such a difference in weight and technical equipment!

Why did I ever get involved with it? Good question! I did it to die a heroic death. But the stupid instinct of self-preservation disagreed with my decision.

I ran around the dragon so that it couldn't reach me with its tail, slipped under its wing and stabbed it in the armpit with my sword. The dragon screamed and spun around. To avoid being trampled, I had to retreat again. Well, I had found a vulnerable spot on this beast! The problem was that it was almost impossible to inflict a mortal wound in this area. If only to cut an artery, but I doubted I had succeeded the first time, and it would be impossible to reach that spot again.

So, I had to find something else. I knew that the heroes of ancient legends had fought dragons and cut off their heads. I looked at the dragon's neck and understood that it was impossible to cut through such a column with one blow, or even three. Besides, Ing-Davriel would not stand still and wait for me to finish. Actually, I could try to pierce its soft palate, but that would require me to approach its muzzle, and that was a problem.

Oh, why was there no dragon anatomy class at the Academy? Damn it! I couldn't run around this beast forever! I had to do something.

The dragon turned its head towards me and stretched its neck, ready to hit me with a jet of flame. I jumped towards it, somersaulted, jumped again, and then a huge clawed paw was right in front of me, rising to attack.

Holy shit! I slipped under the raised paw and felt the burning pain in my shoulder - the bastard had reached me. My eyes went black. I shook my head. No way! Not so fast, winged creature!

The dragon’s paw was right in front of me. I grabbed it, threw my body up, pulled myself up, and pushed myself off its knee. After another spurt, I found myself on the dragon's neck.

The creature shook its head, wings flapping desperately. I gripped the scales with a deadly grip. Falling was the last thing I needed!

Did I have a plan? No, nothing! I also realized that I had lost my sword. Apparently, I had dropped it while climbing on the dragon. I checked my knives and found them on my belt. Great! I could still try something!

The endless, slippery and constantly twisting neck of the dragon came to an end. I clutched it with my knees right underneath its jaw, one hand gripping the horn-like growth on the reptile’s head, and with the other I pulled out a long hunting knife. The dragon kept shaking its head, twisting around, trying to throw me down. But its ye