Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

shook violently, throwing Morghan to the ground with brutal force, along with several tents and other soldiers around him. A single tremor, as if the hill was holding its breath for something terrible about to befall them.
    “My God! Could it be the curse again, or was that something else?” Morghan asked himself.
    He hastily stood up and walked faster toward his destination. In the lightning flashes, he saw the outlines of the altar and a tall man standing next to it. It was truly a picture out of the worst nightmares, a shocking vision that sent cold shivers down his spine. Had it truly come down to this? A pagan ritual to help them? A spell of dark magic to deliver them from evil?
    When the advisor reached the large heap of rocks and boulders, he slowly made his way up the mound. The climb was lengthy and laborious, since the pouring rain was rapidly turning the soil into sticky mud. Finally, using both hands and heedless of the stains on his clothes, he made it to the top of the ridge.
    Lightning and thunder exploded in unison, but the old advisor ignored them. What he was witnessing at the moment was impossible to describe: a scene too absurd and dreadful to comprehend.
    About thirty yards from where he stood was the altar, facing toward the east. The cross and the pedestal on which it stood had been built exactly as the sketch required, carefully respecting every detail in the plans. It stood about ten feet tall and was more than fifteen feet long, set at a forty-five-degree angle.
    At the moment, however, the angle did not matter in the slightest, since the altar was levitating slightly above the ground, hovering as if it was weightless, oblivious to the hurricane-like winds blowing over it. Like a demon at work, a towering figure stood next to it, his arms extended toward the strange device, the palms of his hands facing the apparatus.
    The dark stranger was already at work, preparing the altar for the sacrifice. Still, even in his wildest thoughts, Morghan could have never imagined how the dark man would proceed.
    A green glow emanated from the man’s hands, like gloves of psychic energy. This light emanated toward the pedestal of the altar, where it was received in the circular base of the device, apparently stored within the carved runes. The wood was glowing with the same green glow, as the energy poured into the receptacle, like a strange liquid filling the circle.
    Morghan did not dare reflect on the origin of this man and the nature of the rite he was currently performing. He was convinced that if he learned the whole truth behind this stranger, he would most likely go crazy. Quickly chasing away the dark thoughts that were gathering in his mind, the old advisor tried to act as naturally as one could do so in such circumstances, and carefully approached the stranger.
    He hesitated before speaking, since he did not know if he should disturb the meditative state of this uncanny wizard who was standing in front of him. Summoning every ounce of courage left in his body, he parted his lips slowly.
    “Are … are you ready for the boy, my lord? Should I have him brought up here to finish the ritual? The men are growing restless, and—”
    The dark stranger did not turn his head. Before Morghan could finish his sentence, he said: “That won’t be necessary, old man. We don’t need the boy anymore. You can dispose of him however you wish.”
    Morghan was speechless. Surely, he must have misunderstood the sorcerer. Myrddin was the key to their salvation, he had said so himself on more than one occasion!
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You heard me the first time, Morghan. Myrddin is no longer necessary. You can dispose of him as you wish. As you can see for yourself, I am rather busy at the moment. I would suggest you let me finish my work and make sure no one else disturbs me.”
    The old man could not believe his ears. This was not happening. After everything he went through to bring the young child here, after all the planning and the lies he had told his king. Ever since this wretched man had come into his life, he had believed every word he had said, spending many sleepless nights worrying about the things this infernal being would do to him should he disappoint. All the labor, all the worries and now, suddenly, the boy did not matter? The sacrifice was no longer necessary?
    Morghan’s face swiftly changed from the obedient slave to the vigorous warrior he once was. Who was this man, to simply use