Chapter 6: The Three Headed Dragon

The Three Headed Dragon 

The story is very old, but I am only revealing it now. No, the story is very simple... So, I guess it won’t take long. The Cabinet of Raebershie Palace has honestly intrigued me for a long time; and after the relocation of the Duchy Center from Parverhell to Raebershie, my interest in it grew even stronger. Every day, for just thirty minutes, I took personal time to visit the cabinet located in the third labyrinth out of the two easiest ones... The cabinet was quite unique; our family named it the Ratenteitemut Cabinet: its name was taken from a dragon in the local legend, — considering that its story sounded epic and fantastic, I always took the last few minutes to search for manuscripts among the worn books with pages that had turned brown in every inch of the cabinet.

I rarely explored the deepest part of the place, though I once invited my brother, Cozis, the Head of the Thairan region, to embark on a small adventure, but he always refused. The place was not dark, rather it was brightly lit, as torches were placed along every corridor wall made of strong square stones. This implicitly made me question my father’s prohibition, because: why did he forbid every family member when we alone were allowed to enter the labyrinth up to the final one, the third labyrinth?

Of course, this disturbed my sanity and shook my trust in my father. Because, why? That was all! I also consciously speculated that the manuscript I had been searching for was at the end of the cabinet. Every failed search made me suspect this; but the suspicion was so disturbing, as if piercing my soul, urging me ceaselessly, igniting my curiosity with a misty conviction!

One Tuesday morning, I left all my affairs and asked Cozis to lie to our father, saying that I was out riding and visiting the Udhus valley for a formal visit. Although he initially refused due to his good reputation, he eventually complied after I defeated him in a short duel. The stakes seemed small to me, but to him, they were significant: I spoke of his secret!

I entered the labyrinth, reached the third floor, then descended the stairs, entered the corridor, and arrived at the cabinet. The end of the cabinet immediately called to me from afar as if whispering directly into my soul, as pure as snow... Oh, oh, my legs trembled and hesitated. I was known to be stubborn; often breaking some of the Grand Duke’s orders—who was my father—besides, I was often drunk and frequently called an addict... In doing all those taboo things, I had never trembled. But now, for the first time, I trembled and felt the soul of the cabinet enter my body, whispering guidance into my spirit!

It wasn’t long before I arrived... Although branching, its corridors did not connect to other rooms. At the end, a dead end, but there was an unlocked cupboard that creaked as I approached it. I was startled, shivered—ah, too far to turn back, right? My heart began to open... Slowly, I pulled the cupboard’s latch backward, then the second one. Its contents were plain; no shelves, clothes, etc. But a small table with a manuscript on it, inscribed in ancient Raebershie Latin: Ratenteitemut... The title had a hole revealing a golden glimmer when I pulled it out into the torchlight.

Feeling that someone might find me at the sacred-looking end of the cabinet, I finally took it to the first branch of the corridor, not far from the cupboard. I also took a torch. The table was so heavy that I had to drag it, making a high-pitched whistling sound. Occasionally, I glanced at the writing: Ratenteitemut. Ratenteitemut. Once more: Ratenteitemut—I arrived, pushing it to a corner. Then, I loosened my tie and stood with my back to the table. Ratenteitemut. I flipped the cover, and its gold imprint shone beautifully on the first two pages. On the third page, the explanation continued: 'The Three-Headed Dragon. Beware of the form of madness.' It left me stunned and frozen, turmoil raging inside my body. The text was clearly written in Thetor, a culture that once existed in the region now known as the Electorate of Cologne and spread westward to the Dutch Republic.

I will write down what I can summarize here...

The dragon had three heads; rumors spread quickly that what the Roman nobility feared would eventually come true... That is, a form of destruction that Kana took as the most terrifying and undefeatable shape—its evil so vile that its very form defied nature’s ability to describe it. Its birth began with the tragedy of Pompeii, and it seemed it would never end... While it would never stop, civilization carried on, so nature forbade it from killing them all. However, it also understood: even though it had killed many apes, the apes would never stop. Therefore, the dragon thought, it would only exterminate them gradually and slowly...

But, the dragon was not foolish... It understood that humans always evolved, and it knew that one day it would also be defeated. But if it were defeated, who would maintain stability to control the extreme population of these apes? Then, through whispers it received from an angel, it gained a supernatural miracle—it would become human, and through the forgiveness of the gods themselves, its burden was reduced, and it was only required to kill the leaders of nations. The gods said to it, 'We have prepared something great that you do not know.'

And with that, it experienced a transformation in every part of its body, becoming a being with a handsome face but without gender... Each of its heads—The Killer, The Madman, and The Ruler—merged and hid within a single head filled with unstable knowledge. The dragon wondered if it would eventually die, but the angel replied, 'No dragon will ever die, whether killed or due to age.' After the angel departed, the dragon went into brief hibernation and awoke two years later in its new body. It felt changes in its chest, which was too heavy, its head constantly aching as if it would explode, while its stomach sometimes burned and hurt its insides. Because of this, for the first time, it spoke using words: 'Pain.' It clutched its stomach, bent over, 'pain...'

The dragon continued its journey.

It reached a land in southern Italy... Sicily. There, it met a Muslim merchant who kindly found it beside a windmill building. The merchant cared for it. From the beginning, the dragon had no intention of fighting. The merchant provided the dragon-human with clothing, shelter, and all basic needs... In return, the dragon-human gave the merchant rare knowledge about trade—a method permissible by religion but highly condemned by the market. The merchant liked the dragon-human because its fluency in Arabic, Pagan Italian, and Turkish greatly helped him negotiate for cheap goods in northern Italy.

But, the dragon felt it had lost its purpose, so it ultimately decided to leave the merchant, then killed him painlessly with its stomach poison. That night, it burned the market and eliminated the village head... It realized something: its head felt lighter. This led it to conclude that its true purpose was to kill and kill, not to destroy and then accidentally kill.

On its journey to Thairan, it encountered and saw a procession of a Prince with his beautiful Fiancée. Once again, the dragon's stomach ached, and it murmured, "pain,— pain,— pain," repeatedly until the cavalry, carriages, and five platoons of knights disappeared into the distance. The dragon smiled, twirling its long blonde hair as if it had come up with an idea.

Two days later, at midnight, the dragon revealed its true form—three heads emerged from its pale, tiny body, which then swelled and burst like a bubble, roaring into the sky... Instantly, the sky thundered; the ground trembled; its scaly wings stretched and expanded, its newborn skin glowing red and fierce. An earth-shattering roar: deafening and terrifying. A volume that immediately awakened the dead: and it destroyed everything! Everything! The last thing remaining: the castle! It roared once more.

Now, from every burning and ruined corner, more commotion arose as the dead walked toward the castle... Now they waited as the dragon leaped, its massive body crashing into the walls, searching... In the upper chambers, the prince and his fiancée were nowhere to be found. Finally, the dragon hunched down, its crazed heads bubbling among the dead, then the corpses scattered toward the castle, whose doors were soon blown open by the dragon’s breath... The dead entered, and the dragon glowed, revealing its human form—naked—before stepping inside.

Inside, it followed the dead, walking past halls, pillars, and the bodies of palace guards—headless, limbless, disfigured, and gutted—then ascended the stairs, walked the corridor, stopping and turning toward a room where the Prince and his Fiancée cowered, their eyes wide with horror, sweat soaking their clothes.

The dragon entered. The dead, unseen before, now appeared... bowing attentively... It reached out gently toward the Prince’s Fiancée, smiling as it pulled her out, warmly clasping her trembling arm... It placed its hand beside her ear, chanting a spell without moving its lips.

Then the dead surged forward, ripping the Prince apart savagely. Meanwhile, the Fiancée fell into a peaceful sleep. The dragon cared for her, embracing her, and they slept together in the corridor. The next morning, they woke up... The Fiancée felt no fear; instead, she caressed the dragon and went back to sleep.

At night, the dragon awoke to the sound outside the castle: horses' hooves, marching in unison. It looked ahead and realized that the dead had done their job well: they left only the Prince’s shredded, bloodstained face. It rose, gently setting down the Fiancée. Since it was night, it could see clearly without worrying about being exposed.

The army of the Duchy of Raebershie had arrived, complete with Swabian expedition forces, additional Parverhell troops, and volunteers who survived from Thairan. The dragon felt pain again, repeatedly—so it lowered its head to ease it and bit its finger. That was a large army. Would they all be crammed into the castle?

The dragon had a plan... It turned to the Fiancée, held her face, drew close to her lips, kissed her, then silently cast another spell. The dragon smiled in the remaining silence of the night.

The next morning: true enough, the entire army entered the castle, and their thunderous battle cries soon echoed off the rooftops. The clanking of iron boots, spears, swords, and shields filled the air as they searched every corner... The Duke of Raebershie, seemingly guided, took the same path as the dragon.

With 400 men, they crowded into the corridor with the Duke in the third row, closely guarded. They stopped before reaching the room. There, they saw the Dragon. Its form was strange: human, small-bodied, and clothed... The Duke’s forces immediately surrounded it.

They believed the dragon’s disguise had failed, weakening its magic. Boldly, the Duke stepped forward and peered into the room. He was instantly paralyzed with shock, collapsing at the horrifying sight within... With his last strength, he forced himself to stand, burning with rage and fury. He advanced toward the dragon, drawing his sword...

The dragon, barely awake, was lifted to its feet by two soldiers. Staggering slightly, it stood. Immediately, the entire army backed away. The Duke swung his sword precisely at the dragon's neck, and its head fell out of the window...

The Duke ordered his men to retrieve it. "This will be proof of our victory and peace," he declared. Half a platoon descended, while the rest were instructed to dispose of the Prince’s mutilated remains. The Duke moved down to the hall, where he heard another resounding cheer—now filled with glory and honor.

Outside, he met the Swabian expedition’s General and, shortly after, the leader of the Thairan volunteers... "The dragon is dead," he announced with confidence. "And with this," he added, "Life will continue in peace."

The news of the dragon’s defeat spread like wildfire... In Vienna, the Holy Roman Emperor granted tens of thousands of gold coins and additional lands, including a quarter of Modena, the southern part of Lombardy, and Lucca... Then, he elevated the Duke to Grand Duke and arranged his marriage to one of Austria’s most beautiful princesses.

But all of this would only happen if the Dragon’s head was displayed publicly. Upon hearing this, the Duke ordered the construction of a stage attended by important guests... Representatives from all over Europe and Byzantium, and even the Pope.

The time came: the dragon’s head had not yet been unveiled, locked in a special underground chamber guarded by 30 squadrons. The ceremony began, loud with drums and the beautiful melodies of church choirs...

The Duke stepped onto the stage, raising his arm, holding the bag containing the dragon’s head. Then he gripped it and, as the bag fell, he saw not the dragon’s head—but the Prince’s Fiancée’s pale, wide-eyed face!

Silence fell. The Pope. The Emperor. Even the choirboys. Everyone watched.

The Duke lowered the head, examining it closely, his heart pounding, his breath ragged with fear and horror...

His terror deepened as he saw the girl’s eyes still moving, shifting slightly! He screamed hysterically, stumbling backward, his arms trembling but unable to drop the head.

"The dragon grows stronger!" the head shrieked. "The dragon grows stronger! The dragon grows stronger!" And it laughed.

The once-grand ceremony turned to chaos. People screamed and fled. The Pope, Emperor, and dignitaries were immediately evacuated.

The head continued to shriek, "The dragon grows stronger! The dragon grows stronger!" Laughing wildly, crazed and obscene... Everything fell into disarray.

When the Duke finally let go of the head, it was already too late...

He retreated into his castle, curling up. No one remained sane after that event...

The world was now engulfed in terror and the truth—that the Dragon was still alive, having taken perfect human form...

It was among us.

To this day, the Dragon has never been found. Yet destruction continues... Rumors persist, and Pope after Pope warns of the impending apocalypse.

But as long as the Dragon remains alive: perhaps the end will never come. ?

The story ended; I turned the last page, revealing an image of a three-headed dragon—gigantic in form and towering beyond measure... I brought the torch closer; there was a description of its skin tone, nature, and an analysis of its shape when in human form. I read and reread it:

It was written there, "Its head is as hard as copper, and it always holds its chest. It loves to ramble, dislikes lying... Its knowledge is vast. According to some, a child with a handsome face always appears... Signifying the downfall of a kingdom... White... Heartless."

Even though I couldn’t fully grasp its meaning—since I always struggle, even fail, in judging others—when I read it, more than one person came to mind. The first was Cozis, and the second... was Mother. [ ]