The Revolting Knights - Chapter Two

When Aidan walked into the tavern, the air thickened with dust and tension. Quinta closed the door behind him and stood by the door, observing the room silently.

The now fully-clothed Aidan was walking among the barbarians with a sallying poise. He seemed careless at a glance, but Quinta could catch the flickering silver flame behind his eyes. He offered saccharine greetings to the people around him, who responded with alienated looks.

Eventually, he put a hand on a table between two men wearing identical bear hides. They stopped conversing and just stared at him; Aidan smiled and made a gesture for them to clear out.

Immediately, the two of them jumped up from their seats. Aidan grinned, readying his fists.

“Krakaaaaan,” the barbarians whined. “He’s back.”

“Who’s back!” came the fiery roar from the back of the tavern. As the man burst through the door, the smoke from his cooking accompanied the flames on his tongue. His body was a wrecking ball of muscle, his knuckles cracking readily. As his eyes fell upon Aidan, a savage grin appeared on his face.

“So, the urchin comes back for another fight,” he said, pounding his fist.

“As long as you’re offering,” Aidan replied. “Is it still a free meal if I win?”

“Chef Krakan serves the strongest,” the cook declared, his eyes glowing with bravado. “Are you strong?”

“Well, I have to be, don’t I?” Aidan said. “Now, all of you, bear witness!” His words fell on bored ears. This was the seventh time he’d challenged Krakan.

Bearing the mad smile of a tyrant, Aidan lunged towards the shorter man.

“You’d better grit those teeth!” he yelled as Krakan’s fist connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling. Aidan tumbled backwards, landing in a heap at Quinta’s feet.

Quinta leaned down, observing the bruise forming on his jaw. “Is this the power of the devil dragon?” she asked without a trace of mockery.

“I thought...it’d only be fair if I tried without it first,” Aidan said, showing her the glowing crest in his left hand.

“Idiot,” Quinta said, as the crest distorted into a spiralling circle. Discreetly, Aidan reached the fingers of his other hand through it; Quinta could just catch the flash of gold as he closed his fist, standing back up.

“Take this!” he shouted, launching his fist past Krakan’s guard into his chest.

The chef took a heavy breath, and smiled. “Now, that’s more like it!”

Quinta went to the bar and ordered some mead, watching the fight from afar. Krakan and Aidan seemed content battering away at each other. The patrons lifted a table as the two brawlers tumbled beneath it, setting it back down after they’d hit the wall and rolled away. All the while, they’d never stopped conversing.

Krakan planted his boot in Aidan’s chest, launching the younger man backwards. The chef brushed the blood from his lips and grinned.

“You’ve got quite a punch there, boy! You need to get me on your diet!” he commanded.

“My diet?” Aidan chuckled ruefully, then flew into a rage. “I haven’t eaten anything for the past two daaaaays!!!”

“Thaaaat’s aaaawfulll!!!” Krakan retorted, surging upwards as well.

“Fiiiiiight,” Quinta droned, feeling compelled to join in.

The two brawlers clashed fists, pummeling one another like skilled boxers. Well, Aidan had no skill to speak of, but his enthusiasm more than made up for it. Krakan, too, seemed more explosive than deadly. On a second assessment, they were both rather awful.

Suddenly, Aidan lurched back, as if he’d been punched after the fact. Quinta caught a golden veneer gliding over his sclera, painting his eyes a familiar yellow. Krakan, seeing an opportunity, laid a wicked hook into Aidan’s face. He froze suddenly, shocked as his hand had begun to bleed.

His fist had been stopped by burnt-purple dragon scales, climbing up Aidan’s neck from beneath his tunic.

Aidan smiled, opening his mouth to showcase the dragonfire burning within. Krakan’s eyes widened, and then his whole face widened as Aidan blasted a dragon punch straight into it.

The chef flew backwards into the bar, cracking it in two. Quinta grabbed her drink before it spilled, but the rest of them tumbled down and pooled beneath Krakan’s limp body. No one was looking at them, after all.

Aidan was crouched in the center of the floor, embers licking from between his clenched teeth. The dragon scales had crawled up the side of his face, giving him the visage of the Devil Dragon.

The warriors reached for their swords. Aidan glanced up, held up his scaly hand. Slowly, he ignited his mark and absorbed the gold back through. The scales receded down his tunic, and a collective sigh released from the room.

Aidan scooped up a silver coin from the counter, letting it disappear into his hand. He knocked his hand against Quinta’s shoulder, mumbled, “Let’s go,” and lurched towards the door.

“Wait.” Aidan turned to see Krakan prop himself onto his elbows. “Boy...that was an incredible fight. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I’ve devoted my whole life to cooking the strongest food, for the strongest people. But now, my strength has faltered. Wherever you go next, take me with you. I only want to serve you,” Krakan declared, his eyes glimmering with devotion.

“Krakan,” Aidan murmured, staring back at him. The dust began to glitter beautifully in the midday sun, and Quinta decided to stay silent and let the subtext do the talking.

The two men looked at each other, and shared a chuckle. Krakan gave a full smile. “So then-”

“Hell no.” Aidan tweaked his thumb downwards.

The dust fell as quickly as Krakan’s face. “What?”

“Why would I need someone weaker than me to follow me around? Can’t you get stronger on your own?” Aidan folded his arms and grinned cockily. “If you’ve got time to get stronger, think about using that strength to actually do something! You moron!”

He held his arm out, gunning at each warrior in the bar. “That goes for all of you! I know exactly what I’m doing with this strength. Hear me now! This is the start of my revolution!”

Quinta noted that these were all, of course, horrible words to convince people with. But that seemed to be the effect. The alienated patrons stared at Aidan with that blend of fear and revulsion that he seemed to inspire with every action.

Aidan turned to her, seeming revitalized by his skulduggery. He motioned her politely out the door, then followed her and quietly shut it behind him. The warriors of the tavern were left speechless in his wake.

Five seconds later, he popped back in the doorway, grabbing the barbarian’s bowl of soup from the table. “I’m starving, actually. No,” he ordered at Krakan, who had started again to call out.

With that, he was out the door, slamming it behind him. From the outside, they could hear his scream. “Now, to behead the world!”