CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TO THE CORE
In the middle of the night three villages in the south of the Eastern Kingdom found themselves under attack. Soldiers of the Grande Armée invaded the towns and robbed the villagers of all their supplies. The villagers themselves were imprisoned and taken back to the soldiers’ camp.
Only one village had the courage to stand up against the Armée and it was destroyed in the process. As far as the soldiers knew, not a single soul had survived the ruthless attack. When the enslaved villagers arrived at the camp, they were lined up and each given a shovel. Their only instructions were to dig.
“How far do they dig?” General Marquis asked the Masked Man. They watched the villagers work from the general’s comfortable tent.
“Until they hit magma,” the Masked Man said. He cradled the dragon egg in his hands and never let it out of his sight. “It shouldn’t take them very long to reach it. During the Dragon Age the Eastern Kingdom was consumed with volcanoes. Dragons laid their eggs in the magma because their offspring grew at rapid rates in the heat.”
“And what happens after the egg is placed in the magma?” the general asked with a sideways glance at him.
“I’ll let you know,” the Masked Man said, and held the egg even tighter. He was very tight-lipped, knowing his knowledge of dragons was the only thing keeping him alive.
“You’re smarter than you look,” the general said.
“General Marquis,” Colonel Baton called from the back of the tent. “We have finalized our plan of attack for tomorrow.”
The colonel and Capitaine De Lange were standing over the general’s desk. A large map of the fairy-tale world had been spread out across it with several flags and figurines placed in strategic clumps throughout the kingdoms.
“Does the plan follow what we discussed?” the general asked him.
“Yes, sir,” the colonel said. “Tomorrow at dawn, we will strike the kingdoms and seize their capitals. Capitaine De Lange and his men have successfully spied on the kingdoms’ armies and we’re pleased to inform you our army of soldiers and recruits is more than twice the size of their armies put together.”
“Go on,” the general instructed.
“The ogres and one thousand soldiers will be sent to the Elf Empire to defeat their army—we didn’t obtain the exact number of the elves in the Elf Empire’s army, but we estimate it’s only a thousand or so. The witches and three hundred soldiers will be sent to the Corner Kingdom to defeat their small army of two hundred or so men. The goblins and one thousand soldiers will be sent to the Northern Kingdom to defeat their army of one thousand men. The fugitive animals and four hundred soldiers will be sent to the Red Riding Hood Kingdom to defeat their army of four hundred men. The trolls and five hundred soldiers will be sent to the Charming Kingdom to defeat their army of five hundred men. The remaining criminal recruits and eight hundred soldiers will be sent to the Eastern Kingdom to defeat their army of seven hundred or so men. The Troll and Goblin Territory is worthless to us—they have no authority in this world so we won’t waste our men on them.”
“We outnumber each of the armies, sir,” Capitaine De Lange said. “That will leave you two thousand soldiers to lead into the Fairy Kingdom and seize the Fairy Palace.”
“And a dragon!” the Masked Man reminded them. “You’ll have two thousand soldiers and a dragon.”
“How soon will the dragon be ready?” Baton asked.
“Raising dragons is all about timing,” the Masked Man told them. “Depending on the temperature of the magma and how much we feed it, it could grow to full size in a couple days—as long as you keep me around to properly raise it, that is.”
The general carefully looked over the map on his desk. The other commanders in his charge were practically claiming victory already based on the information they had, but the general wasn’t pleased. There was something about their strategy that didn’t sit well with him.
“Are you sure we haven’t miscounted the armies?” the general asked. “When the Brothers Grimm described each of the kingdoms to us, their forces felt much bigger.”
“My men returned only yesterday, shortly after you returned from the north, sir,” Capitaine De Lange assured him. “The armies of the kingdoms have been seen preparing for war in the capitals and they were all accounted for.”
The general still wasn’t sold on the idea. He had a hunch they would need to charge the Fairy Palace with more than soldiers and a dragon if they wanted to succeed.
“Very well,” the general said. “But I want more leverage than soldiers and a dragon before we strike the fairies. I want each of the rulers brought back alive once their kingdom is seized, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Colonel Baton said. “We will attack the Fairy Kingdom last—once all the rulers of the other kingdoms have been successfully retrieved.”
“Capitaine De Lange, make sure the villagers are digging as quickly as possible,” the general ordered. “I want to put the egg in the magma no later than sunrise tomorrow.”
Capitaine De Lange saluted and headed to the digging site. General Marquis rubbed his bald head, worrying there was information his men had missed. Lieutenant Rembert hurried inside with wide eyes and exciting news to tell the general.
“General Marquis, a discovery was made in one of the nearby villages. I thought you would like to see it, sir.”
“What is it, Lieutenant?” the general asked as if it was impossible for anything to excite him.
“We’ve discovered a magic mirror, sir,” the lieutenant said.
This sparked the general’s interest. He knew magic mirrors held intuitive knowledge about the world. Perhaps the mirror could ease his doubts about the battle ahead. “Bring it in,” he ordered.
The lieutenant left the tent and returned a moment later instructing two soldiers as they dragged something square and heavy inside. They propped it up in a corner of the tent and pulled off the protective sheet wrapped around it. The mirror had a thick golden frame with floral carvings and the purest glass any of them had seen.
The general walked toward it like he was approaching a poisonous snake. The Masked Man knew very well what kind of mirror it was but he didn’t warn the general—he was much more interested to find out what the general would see.
General Marquis stood in front of the mirror for a long moment and nothing happened. He waved his hand in front of it and nothing changed in the reflection.
“Idiot, you’ve been tricked,” he shouted at Rembert. “There is nothing magical about this mirror at all.”
Just as the general turned away, the other men in the tent gasped. The general’s reflection in the mirror had changed. Instead of a grown man wearing a uniform decorated with badges of honor, a weak little boy appeared. The boy was dreadfully skinny, filthy, and he trembled; he was a starving and scared peasant. His clothes were covered in holes and tears and he didn’t have any shoes. His left eye was swollen shut from a severe beating.
The general had spent his entire life trying to forget this boy but he knew who he was the instant he saw him.
“Lieutenant,” General Marquis said in a soft but threatening tone. “I want this mirror to be taken out of my tent at once and destroyed, and if you disturb me with garbage like this again, you’ll be next.”
Rembert and the other soldiers quickly removed the mirror from the general’s sight. Although he hadn’t even raised his voice, none of the men had ever seen the general so affected by something before. The general continued staring into the corner even though the mirror had been taken away.
“Colonel Baton,” the general said sharply. “I do not want to wait until dawn—send the armies out to the kingdoms as soon as they’re organized.”
“Yes, General,” Colonel Baton said. He left the tent, and the Masked Man and the general were alone.
“What kind of magic mirror was that?” General Marquis asked.
“It was a Mirror of Truth,” the Masked Man said. “It reflects who someone truly is rather than how they appear.”
The general became very quiet and very still.
“I assume you must have grown up very poor,” the Masked Man said. “I guess that explains where your drive comes from—a lifetime of having to prove yourself—”
The general jerked his head toward him. “Don’t you dare analyze me,” he barked. “You think you know me, but you don’t know the first thing about me. You have no idea where I came from, what I came from, or what I had to do to become who I am today. That boy in the mirror is a reflection from the past and nothing more. He will never have to prove anything to anyone again.”
The Masked Man knew better than to play with fire. “You’re right, I don’t know you,” he said. “So please allow me to ask you this—a question I’ve had since we first met. Why conquer this world? Claiming a different dimension must seem a tad extreme even where you come from.”
The general walked to his desk and pulled out a thick book he kept in the top drawer. He flipped through the book and the Masked Man could see the pages were filled with maps and portraits—it was a history book.
“Where I come from, each era is defined by the greatness of one man,” he said. “Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, William the Conqueror, Genghis Khan… they were the greatest conquerors of their times. Soon a man named Napoleon Bonaparte will join that list of men… unless another man conquers something beyond Napoleon’s wildest dreams.”
“Ah, I see,” the Masked Man said. “You’re trying to outdo him. But surely you’ll both be remembered as great contributors to the French Empire?”
General Marquis slammed the book shut and put it away in his desk. “Perhaps,” the general said. “But there is only room for one man in the history books.”