The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons by Aaron Dennis Page A

luck, and the completion of many subsequent tasks,
we may yet see the restoration of Alduheim with its rightful ruler
sitting as the supreme Sovereign of Tiamhaal.”
    “This is nothing if not conflicting. If all
this is true, why are the Kulshedrans trying to kill me? Why did
the Dracos attack me? Did Zoltek know any of this? Besides, I
thought–” Scar was cut short.
    “One question at a time!” Labolas laughed.
“Only Gilgamesh has all the answers, and I report directly to him.
He said to find you, and told me where you would be. We knew about
Dumar’s plans to take out the towers. We knew you had been hired.
We also knew Zoltek was only using you for your prowess.”
    “Why let the attacks commence?”
    “Gilgamesh wanted to be sure you could handle
yourself. What good is a supreme ruler who can’t fight?” Labolas
retorted.
    “So many of your men fell to my sword.”
    “Unfortunate, but did you not notice the
outposts were undermanned?” Scar did not reply. “Besides, now the
dead rest in Drangue with the great Kulshedra, God of Truth. It is
no loss for them, I assure you. We all go gladly when our time
comes,” Labolas asserted.
    “Mmm, you accept death rather lightly,” the
mercenary commented.
    “Men who fight for what they believe in die
for those beliefs. Times are bad, certainly…this is war, you know?”
Labolas said solemnly.
    “I suppose,” Scar acquiesced. “How much
longer till we reach this town?”
    “It’s actually a boardinghouse. We’ll be
there by nightfall,” Labolas answered and took a bronze canteen
from his belt to drink. “Thirsty?”
    Scar accepted, gulped cool water, then handed
it back. “Tell me more, like, why do I heal so quickly?”
    “Well, now, that’s news to me, but I suppose
Kulshedra has his reasons.”
    “I remain skeptical that I am this Brandt or what have you.”
    “I don’t care. I’m just taking you to
Gilgamesh,” Labolas reiterated. “Did you have something better to
do?”
    “No. For the moment, I’m at the mercy of
circumstance. Besides, you are the first person I have ever met—or
met recently enough to have memories—who has shed any light on who
I am and without asking me to kill in return,” Scar answered. After
a short pause for silence, he continued. “Tell me about that
paladin now. Did he know me?”
    “Ah, Lovenhaad, oof, he was a force to be
reckoned with. By Kulshedra, all those paladins are daft,” Labolas
remarked.
    “There are more?”
    “Far as I can tell, there are eight sects,
but that isn’t entirely accurate. Lovenhaad was a Paladin of
Mekosh, the Severe. He maintained that Mekosh was a real God, and
get this, that Kulshedra is really one of the Dragons.” Labolas had
to stop while he laughed. “Oh, my, but no. I have seen other
Paladins of Mekosh. The Severe wear that black armor you saw, but
there are others. They call themselves Paladins of Mekosh, the
Tolerant, and are completely different. Paladins of Tolerance, or
sometimes called Friars of Tolerance, generally travel in hooded,
brown robes and are scarcely if ever in a fight.”
    Scar narrowed his eyes in wonder. “You say
these paladins claim that Kulshedra is a Dragon?”
    “Aye,” Labolas chuckled.
    “And the others, like Zmaj?”
    “All paladins claim that all those currently
considered as Gods are in actuality the old Dragons,” Labolas
clarified. Scar stopped walking. The sun had moved towards the west
and long shadows of tall rock formations painted the ground.
Labolas also came to a halt, next to a squat bush with thick
leaves. “What is it?”
    “How many Gods are there?”
    “I told you, only one.”
    “But how many claim to be Gods?” Scar
clarified.
    “Zmaj, Drac, Khmer, Gyo, Slibinas, Tiamat,
Scultone, Fafnir, Mireu, Naga, Bakunawa, Bolla,” Labolas replied
holding up one finger for each.
    As Labolas spoke, Scar counted the names
before adding, “And Kulshedra makes thirteen.”
    Labolas spat at the ground, and they passed
an