Dragon Quest - I - Prologue

A dark beginning... (pages 6-12)

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In the waters to the south of the kingdom of Radatome, in Alefgaard, floats an island of unspeakable darkness. For years, this island has been covered with a thick fog and dark clouds, endlessly flashing with lightning.The sea surrounding the island is torrential, with innumerable whirlpools and violent waves that force away all who approach.

Somewhat like a giant mirage, the island will sometimes appear close, sometimes appear far away, and sometimes even nearly disappear from view. It is also said that when the wind blows just right, the smell of rot and blood permeate the air.

Normal people cannot cross to this island by any means. The way is only opened by those who have sold their soul to demons. It is the island of the incarnation of evil, the Dragonlord, who rules over all of Alefgaard.

But it wasn’t always the domain of the Dragonlord. At one time, it was heralded as a holy land, worshipped as the home of the spirit said to have created Alefgaard, called Rubiss. Songs of Alefgaard’s once glory and affluence were sung in her honor. Until the year 1348, when the Dragonlord appeared.

Alefgaardian 1348: in the Year of the Dragon, the Month of the Dragon.

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Nearly three hundred of the most eligible sages, high priests, and seers were selected and ordered to gather at Radatome Castle, before Ralus VIII, where the austere annual ‘Ceremony of Divination’ was to be held. Every year on this date, the fortunes and misfortunes of the coming year would be foretold.

However, the seers and their divinations were pointless. The fingers of disaster had already begun to creep forth, unnoticed by all.

For three days and nights, a crimson darkness enshrouded the spires of Radatome Castle. A regiment of monsters attacked, raided the sanctuary, and made off with the Jewel of Light, the castle’s most valued treasure. Long ago, when the Dark Lord still reigned over Alefgaard, the gods entrusted that same Jewel of Light to the hero Loto, which Loto used to defeat the Dark Lord and bring peace back to Alefgaard.

The castle was in an uproar. But it wasn't over. Immediately after, an incomprehensibly fierce earthquake shook all of Alefgaard to its core.

With a violent crack, a giant ferocious maw was opened in the earth, burying the populace beneath a mountain of rubble. Volcanoes across the land erupted with a roar, swallowing a number of towns and villages beneath flowing magma.

The quake resounded as far as the lands of the west coast, and the smoke and ash that filled the air was said to have been visible from villages far to the south.

The island of Ishtar, epicenter of the quake and home of the Temple of Rubiss, was a disaster. The giant chalk and marble temple fell in mere moments, and the approaching tidal waves swept the ports and towns away beneath the waves. Moreover, the great bridge connecting the island and the western cape of Rimuldar was washed away into the relentless sea without a trace.

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When the earthquake finally subsided after three days, the island’s shape had considerably changed, all vestiges of the temple had been eradicated, and a fearsome, bizarre castle had taken its place.

This castle of darkness, appearing so suddenly, had taken the people across the lake so aback they could do nothing but stare in aghast.

A strange voice began to resonate and be heard. Declaring itself the Dragonlord, the voice spoke:

"I am the true ruler of Alefgaard, and the rightful holder of the Jewel of Light! Listen well, foolish humans! Henceforth, this land belongs to me!"

Above the castle, a dark cloud began to pour out, and strange monsters flitted back and forth beneath the smoke.

Ralus VIII immediately began his counterattack, getting to work forming up a combat force and sending them out. Thousands of warships were assembled at the port south of Radatome, reinforcements were dispatched from Rimuldar and Melkid, and the coastline was soon filled with hundreds of thousands of knights and soldiers.

Unfortunately, the battle didn’t even last two months. The thousands of warships were soon set aflame by attacks from flying chimera war parties and the multiple bolts of lightning that flecked forth from the spires of the Dragonlord’s castle.

Their final cries of woe reverberated over the tumultuous seas, and into the walls of Radatome; and the smoke was so thick it blackened the skies all over Alefgaard.

Battalions of monsters spread throughout the lands, joined together with the now dire and giant wild populace, and attacked village after village, endlessly repeating their ceaseless destruction and slaughter.

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The armies were annihilated, and many towns were pillaged to dust. Of the larger settlements, besides Radatome, a mere four remained that just barely managed to defend themselves: Domdora, Rimuldar, Garai, and Melkid. Of the smaller villages, only Maira remained.

It is said nearly two-thirds of the population of Alefgaard was lost during the battle.

The once verdant prairies were turned to wasteland; the grasslands to desert; the great flowing rivers, once the pride of all, were now contaminated with poison and filth; and the forests echoed with the screams of monsters.

Thus the land of Alefgaard, the beauty of which was once the subject of bardic song-writing competitions, was reduced to a world of darkness in the blink of an eye, and was brought into a long, harsh winter.

And time flows on.

At the Dragonlord’s ominous castle, towering over the north side of the island -

Deep within, one of the Dragonlord’s Dark Generals, the Archwizard Zaltotan, holds a blue crystal ball high above a burning flame before the Dragonlord’s throne and chants a spell with intense concentration.

The battle of 1348 did not result in casualties on the human side alone. The Dragonlord lost many of his servants at the hands of the desperations of men. Not to mention the Jewel of Light had lost much of its luster and immense power over the years, weakening the magic of the Dragonlord in turn. However, a great demon of the underworld spoke a revelation to the Dragonlord.

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"It will take but the passing of two hundred years to return its former strength back to the Jewel of Light, my lord."

For the Dragonlord, who wished to not only rule Alefgaard, and not only all of the overworld lands, but all of the lands in the skies above as well, the day of the revival of the Jewel of Light would mark the day he would begin his second invasion. The Dragonlord trusted in the word of the great demon and bided his time. Now, it would be only seventeen years before those two hundred years were up.

The crystal ball that the Archwizard Zaltotan was holding began to emit streams of bright light, and cracks began to run across its surface with a hiss. Zaltotan’s face twitched with anticipation.

"Hah, hah," he breathed.

A rumble escaped the Dragonlord’s throat as he peered down at Zaltotan with a fearsome glare.

Zaltotan moved forward abruptly and bowed low before his master, preparing to speak.

"My lord, one with the blood of Loto has just been born."

"W-What!? Loto!"

Even the Dragonlord couldn’t help but be shocked. He sprang up from his throne and approached Zaltotan, gazing into the crystal ball.

A faint image of a newborn child floated beneath the cracked glass globe.

"He is in the settlement of Domdora, to the southwest of the continent. And, my lord, the ball is saying that when he acquires the love of a princess, he will have the strength to defeat Your Greatness..."

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"A princess!"

"Seven days ago, a female heir was born to Ralus XVI, and I have heard that Radatome is in quite the fervor."

"Then listen well, Zaltotan!" the Dragonlord ordered, in a great voice.

"Send out all of our troops! Take the one with the blood of Loto, and everyone else in Domdora, and exterminate them all! Make it a bloodbath! And the daughter of Ralus XVI, as well!"

On that day, a healthy baby boy was born to young couple of Domdora.

That night, three travelers came to visit the young couple. The first was an old wizard. The wizard placed an old map drawn on sheepskin beside the boy and then left without a word. The second was a priest. Like the first, he placed a Stone of Life, glittering with a divine blue light, into the boy’s leaf-like hand and departed quietly. And the third, a showily dressed jester, entrusted a beautiful, rainbow-colored chimera’s feather to the boy before vanishing from the village.

The young couple, looking at the peaceful face of their son, who was born at precisely mid-day on the Year of Kings, in the Month of Kings, on the Day of Kings, and seeing the map, Stone of Life, and chimera’s feather that the travelers had left, exchanged puzzled glances.

There was once a legend in Alefgaard that said that a boy born on the Year of Kings, in the Month of Kings, on the Day of Kings would be a hero, sent to us from the great spirit Rubiss herself.

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But this legend was lost to the memory of man through the annals of history.

Hours later, when the village of Domdora had fallen into a deep slumber, the Dragonlord’s dragon battalion attacked.

The village’s soldiers and those rising to defend themselves fought with all of their might, but the dragons’ breath, carried on the gales created by their wings, turned the town into a sea of flame in mere moments. The villagers, fleeing into the streets with nothing but their nightclothes, were cut down mercilessly by the dragons.

The cacophonous flames burned high and quickly filled the midwinter sky with ash.

Morning came. A cold rain began to fall on the village now turned to blackened rubble.

The corpses were piled so thick one couldn’t even step between them. Strewn about was a girl with her face torn to shreds, a soldier with his throat ripped out, an old woman torn into two at the chest, a young boy, a mother trying to protect her child…

A flock of vultures, so numerous it seemed they had to have gathered from every corner of Alefgaard, came to peck emotionlessly at the corpses with their unblinking eyes.

Soon, the rain changed to snow.