Chapter 2




        King Lorik sat solemnly in his throne waiting for the Descendant of Erdrick to come.  He was told that the boy had recovered beautifully and was ready to see him that afternoon before dinner.  It was now evening, and the king had already ate.  Lorik ate in the throne room.  He could no longer sit in the grand dining room with the members of his family and court.  Their eyes were empty but angry, as if they had already been killed and blamed him, not the Dragonlord, for their fear and misery.  
        Suddenly a tall young man dressed in leather armor like some mercenary walked in surrounded by gaurds and a nurse.  The young man appeared to be of strong body and mind, but he did not have the eyes of a hero, or even a good soldier.  
        "Are you the descendent of Erdrick?"  The king made no attempt to hide the disappointment in his voice.  
        "Yes."  The boy said.  He sounded like a mouse before a lion.  He studied the king closely.  Few had ever seen Lorik before.  However, he did not look like what Rod had predicted.  If it weren't for the crown, the royal robes, and the manicured hands, Rod would have confused Lorik for any homeless old man on the street.  Lorik did not have the presence of a sovereign, but the look of someone who lived a life of pain.  
        "According to a prophet who came to this land some time ago, only a direct descendant of Erdrick can save this land from its dire fate at the hands of the Dragonlord.  Your bloodline is blessed by Rubiss herself, boy.  Do you understand what that means?"
        Rod nodded, but no, he did not understand what it meant.  
        "It is your destiny to decide, whether we should be saved or left to perish."  With that the king glanced over at the empty throne next to his.  It was the throne that once belonged to his beloved queen Magdalene and then became the throne of his daughter Guinevere, who was captured during the Siege of Tantengel.  The king put a wary hand to his face.  For a second, it seemed as if he would be overwhelmed with tears.  However, something kicked in and his face remained a semblance of royal composure.   
        "You are the one to kill the Dragonlord, and...and you must also rescue my daughter, if...."  the king hesitated, and then went on, his voice hollow but unbroken,  "she still lives.  The Dragonlord's death is your number one priority, but if you can find Princess Guinevere, you will have this old man's gratitude, as well as the gratitude of Alefgard."
        The boy stood still, realizing the magnitude of what was before him.  Here he was, expected to stand against an army of countless monsters and demons, the same ones that slaughtered the people he loved and destroyed his life.  He wanted to refuse, to tell Lorik that this was someone else's quest, not his, but he could not.
        The king continued.  "Of course, I don't expect you to be able to kill the Dragonlord with a copper sword and cheap armor.  Only the sword and armor of Erdrick would ever be strong enough to withstand a creature such as the Dragonlord."
        Rod smiled.  Maybe this wasn't going to be so difficult after all.  "Where do you keep this sword and armor, Your Majesty?"
        The king gave a twisted bitter smile.  "Keep them?  Oh no, no one has seen the sword and armor of Erdrick since his death over a century ago.  But we are certain they still exist, somewhere in this land.  That shall be another part of your mission."
        Rod wanted to scream in frustration.  Instead he silently shook his head.  "Very well, Your Majesty."
        "My servants will give you supplies for your quest.  You may set out tomorrow morning, if it pleases you.  Farewell, and may Fortune smile on you.  Alefgard is counting on your success."
        As Rod was sent out of the king's presence, he wondered if it would be a good idea to run himself through with a sword.  That would probably be wiser than the tasks he found himself facing.