all these years, my son, hiding amongst the townspeople when I was strong enough to walk the Earth in this form. I am very proud of you. You have grown into a fine warrior, and will be a great King.”
“I fear that I won’t have the strength to lead them in this battle,” Eamon protested.
The Dragon let go of Eamon, stepping back to examine him.
“You are the son of the Dragon,” he said. “You are stronger than all of your brothers before you. More of my blood flows within you, along with all of my strength, and all of my compassion. You have the power to lead the Knights of the Dragon, and to destroy this invader before he destroys our world.“
“I do not know how to choose these Knights, father,” Eamon said.
“You have already chosen one,” the Dragon reminded him. “Wrothgaar is a mighty warrior and will be a great Knight. He will fight at your side until the day he dies.”
“Whom will I choose for the others?” Eamon asked.
“That is up to you. You will know when you meet them. Choose wisely, for with each choice there comes great responsibility. Choose incorrectly, and that Knight may fail you.”
“The Priest, Erenoth,” Eamon said. “How will he fit in?”
“Erenoth will travel with you,” The Dragon answered. “He will advise you as best he can. He is also a formidable warrior, and has other abilities that will be of great aid in battle.”
“What abilities?” Eamon asked.
“You will see,” the Dragon said, smiling. “He is my eldest child, my trusted advisor, and his power is great. But without your leadership, he can be nothing but a Priest. And he cannot be one of your Knights. He must remain free to perform other tasks that your Knights cannot.”
“I will lead him as I can,” Eamon said. “But will he honor my rule ?”
“Yes. He will obey you as he obeys me, but will advise you when it is needed. Use him well. His power will be of great use to you.”
The Dragon paused, unsheathing the beautifully decorated sword at his side. “This,” he said, “is the Serpent’s Tongue. With it, you will wield the power of the Dragon. But I must give you the right to bear it, myself. Kneel before me.”
Eamon kneeled before the Dragon, apprehensive but willing to receive his blessing. The Dragon raised the sword above him, bringing it down lightly on Eamon’s shoulder.
“By my will,” the Dragon spoke, “I bestow upon you my power, my sword, and my armor.” He then placed the sword on Eamon’s other shoulder. “From this day forth, you shall be known as the Onyx Dragon. May those who serve me, serve you as faithfully.”
Eamon felt a sharp pain as the blade cut into his shoulder. He flinched, but stayed in place, realizing the Dragon was transferring his power. The pain of the cut grew more intense, and he felt the flood of energy throughout his body. It was healing energy that permeated every particle of his body, shielding every tissue, and strengthening every bone.
His armor began to change as well, and new pieces began to form themselves onto his body. They were segmented and plated, like the Dragon’s own armor, having spikes and overlapping scales. The armor was lightweight, strong, and gave him a similar appearance to Eirenoch’s former Kings. He was now fully protected in the Dragon’s armor, and no mortal weapon could harm him.
When the ritual was complete, the pain faded, and Eamon felt the Dragon’s will flowing through him. He felt stronger, faster, and more focused. It was as if his Father had given him the life force he had been missing. And indeed he had. Without the Dragon’s blessing, Eamon was just a man. But now, as the Dragon gave him his power, he was something more. Something better.
The Dragon withdrew the sword.
“It is done,” he said, grasping the sword by the blade and extending its pommel to Eamon. “Rise, my son, and take the weapon of all the great Kings before you.”
Eamon took the sword from the Dragon’s hand, watching
“I fear that I won’t have the strength to lead them in this battle,” Eamon protested.
The Dragon let go of Eamon, stepping back to examine him.
“You are the son of the Dragon,” he said. “You are stronger than all of your brothers before you. More of my blood flows within you, along with all of my strength, and all of my compassion. You have the power to lead the Knights of the Dragon, and to destroy this invader before he destroys our world.“
“I do not know how to choose these Knights, father,” Eamon said.
“You have already chosen one,” the Dragon reminded him. “Wrothgaar is a mighty warrior and will be a great Knight. He will fight at your side until the day he dies.”
“Whom will I choose for the others?” Eamon asked.
“That is up to you. You will know when you meet them. Choose wisely, for with each choice there comes great responsibility. Choose incorrectly, and that Knight may fail you.”
“The Priest, Erenoth,” Eamon said. “How will he fit in?”
“Erenoth will travel with you,” The Dragon answered. “He will advise you as best he can. He is also a formidable warrior, and has other abilities that will be of great aid in battle.”
“What abilities?” Eamon asked.
“You will see,” the Dragon said, smiling. “He is my eldest child, my trusted advisor, and his power is great. But without your leadership, he can be nothing but a Priest. And he cannot be one of your Knights. He must remain free to perform other tasks that your Knights cannot.”
“I will lead him as I can,” Eamon said. “But will he honor my rule ?”
“Yes. He will obey you as he obeys me, but will advise you when it is needed. Use him well. His power will be of great use to you.”
The Dragon paused, unsheathing the beautifully decorated sword at his side. “This,” he said, “is the Serpent’s Tongue. With it, you will wield the power of the Dragon. But I must give you the right to bear it, myself. Kneel before me.”
Eamon kneeled before the Dragon, apprehensive but willing to receive his blessing. The Dragon raised the sword above him, bringing it down lightly on Eamon’s shoulder.
“By my will,” the Dragon spoke, “I bestow upon you my power, my sword, and my armor.” He then placed the sword on Eamon’s other shoulder. “From this day forth, you shall be known as the Onyx Dragon. May those who serve me, serve you as faithfully.”
Eamon felt a sharp pain as the blade cut into his shoulder. He flinched, but stayed in place, realizing the Dragon was transferring his power. The pain of the cut grew more intense, and he felt the flood of energy throughout his body. It was healing energy that permeated every particle of his body, shielding every tissue, and strengthening every bone.
His armor began to change as well, and new pieces began to form themselves onto his body. They were segmented and plated, like the Dragon’s own armor, having spikes and overlapping scales. The armor was lightweight, strong, and gave him a similar appearance to Eirenoch’s former Kings. He was now fully protected in the Dragon’s armor, and no mortal weapon could harm him.
When the ritual was complete, the pain faded, and Eamon felt the Dragon’s will flowing through him. He felt stronger, faster, and more focused. It was as if his Father had given him the life force he had been missing. And indeed he had. Without the Dragon’s blessing, Eamon was just a man. But now, as the Dragon gave him his power, he was something more. Something better.
The Dragon withdrew the sword.
“It is done,” he said, grasping the sword by the blade and extending its pommel to Eamon. “Rise, my son, and take the weapon of all the great Kings before you.”
Eamon took the sword from the Dragon’s hand, watching
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