Chapter 2
The dragon was not made of gold. He
simply enjoyed bathing in it. He would use his dragon breath to burn the
treasures he had gathered and stored in his cave within the Firebreath
Mountains and when the gold had melted he would roll in it until it covered his
entire body. The wood and gems would often be burned or destroyed out right,
but he did not care about things like that. Only the gold was important.
He
craned his sinuous neck and glanced at his body. Some of the golden skin was
flaking off. When he would fly off in search of food pieces of the gold would
fall, or when foolish heroes would try to slay him, they would slice off
portions of his self-made armor. He would need to find replacement treasure in
order to fill in the gaps.
Should
he fly around the farmstead of Calias and wait for a traveling band of heroes
or merchants? Perhaps he should strike at one of the smaller towns—inns and
bars often accommodated returning heroes rich with claimed treasure. The last
option he considered was attacking a castle that belonged to a powerful lord or
evil mage but he quickly put it out of his mind. It would surely be filled with
traps, powerful beasts or knights. While he knew he would prevail against such
paltry defenses, it seemed hardly worth his time and effort.
Aurion,
the powerful golden dragon of the Firebreath Mountains decided that he would
fly over one of the outlying human towns and try to get lucky. As he glanced
outside one of the natural windows of his cave he saw a fluttering of red
fabric in the distance. It seemed to be moving closer towards the mountains and
straight for him.
The
golden dragon grinned wide showing several layers of teeth. Perhaps he wouldn’t
have to go anywhere today. A mage wearing red robes along with two other
figures were heading to his mountain.
How unbelievably
lucky, he thought. Well perhaps not. He had named himself Aurion, after one of
the human languages meaning gold. Gold brought luck and he was a golden
dragon.
He
scanned the entirety of his cavern especially the entrance looking for anything
that might be used against him. A loose stalactite or a magical weapon could,
with some luck, be a boon to heroes.
During these times adventurers found ways to slay powerful enemies that
were stronger and smarter. Aurion had to be very careful. He had lived a long
time and he knew that even one overlooked detail could spell disaster for the
mightiest creature.
When he
decided that everything was acceptable, he moved a small mound of treasure to
the center of the cave.
Like a
snake he wormed his way to the back wall of his cavern and shrouded himself in
shadow. His eyes gleamed bright gold as he stared at the entrance and then at
the pile of treasure. And then he waited.
***
Izarin
climbed the mountain pathway as best as he could for a man his age. His body was not old but he still felt out of
shape and unaccustomed to hiking these treacherous mountain trails. They had left the horses at the bottom of the
mountain away from any volcanic eruptions or flame geysers.
The
flame mage glanced at his two companions and wondered just how these two women
were climbing better than he was climbing. They did not look exhausted in the
least. He could understand how Arana could travel almost effortlessly—she was
significantly more agile and athletic then he was. On the other hand, Salla
while sporting the muscles and endurance of a trained warrior, was carrying
heavy steel armor. Maybe it was just her personality that kept her energized.
Even
though Izarin was a flame mage he certainly did not have any semblance of a
fiery personality. He was not driven by emotion, nor did not act passionately
in the things he did. He was more the thoughtful, calculating type.
After
about an hour of hiking they had reached an opening in one of the mountains.
Izaring had checked the peaks to see if any fire burst out of the mountain they
were on but it was silent. It was more likely that he would find the ingredient
he needed in this place.
The
ember mushroom he required only grew in volcanic areas like this one. What was
strange about the mushrooms was that they could sustain themselves through the
high temperatures and would not wither or burn even when lava or flames touched
them.
“Let’s
take a break first before we enter this cavern. There’s no telling what might
be lurking for us in there.” Izarin knelt against the mountain wall and felt
the heat warm his back. His robes, magically enchanted with a powerful spell,
helped resist some of the heat from the mountain.
“Now
that we’re here, do you care to tell us exactly what it is that we’re searching
for?” Salla crossed her arms.
“We’re
looking for a mushroom. Red with spots of crimson along its cap, with a dark
greenish stalk. It is called an ember mushroom and it is very rare.”
“We
came all the way to this volcanic region for a fungus?” Salla’s eyes were wide.
“It is a very important part of the
recipe. Plus I knew that if I told you when we arrived here that you wouldn’t
be able to refuse.” Izarin smiled. “Don’t worry. You will be compensated beyond what I
mentioned in those hiring posters. As soon as we recover the three ingredients
your contracts with me will be fulfilled and you will be handsomely rewarded.”
The
thief from Calias seemed to stiffen from the remark but said nothing. As Izarin
glanced at Salla’s face he saw indecision in her eyes. Suddenly, she unsheathed
her sword, a very fine straight blade and turned towards the mage.
“Fine,”
she exhaled over her shoulder. “But if you are lying, then remember I know how
to use a sword. And your magic won’t be able to keep you safe.” The swordswoman
strode into the cavern and did not turn back.
“I am
sorry, but when the recipe is complete you will understand. I hope you aren’t
too mad at me.”
Arana
shrugged and followed after Salla.
“Your
sacrifice and hard work will be rewarded in the end.” He said to no one in
particular.
***
Salla
clenched the sword hilt until her knuckles turned white. She did not know if
Izarin was trying to make her angry but she definitely was. The idea that this
was some foolish adventure done for no particular reason gave her a headache.
She really hated wasting her time—waiting itself was something Salla had
trouble doing.
When
she was younger she had wanted to be a knight. She followed in the footsteps of
her mother and father, both exceptional knights of the order, and practiced
every day until every part of her body was sore. No matter how much she
excelled at swordplay, defeating even superior knights in single combat, she
had been restrained from officially joining the ranks. They had told her that
it would require time for her to become a knight. She must have patience and be
trained for several years. She was told she must control her emotions and be
less reckless in her decisions.
Salla could
not wait, nor could she abide by the decrees of the knighthood. Salla left with
the armor on her back and the sword given to her by her parents. She proclaimed to the knights that she would
instead become a traveling swordswoman. With no lord to serve but the ones she
chose, and no rules to follow but her own code of ethics, she trudged out of
the castle brimming with a defiant air.
It had
been difficult at first trying to find her place in the world. Joining the
knighthood seemed like a perfect fit. It almost was her destiny. Though she did
not want to admit it, it was easy than deciding on her own. She had had no
decisions to make. Salla could blindly follow the orders given to her by her
knightly superiors.
However,
now that she was on her own she had to change. She had to make her own choices
and follow her instincts. And her instincts were telling her not to continue
with Izarin’s quest.
She
pushed aside thoughts of her past from her mind and focused on her
surroundings. There were many thick shadows in the large cavern interior. In
the center of the room was a gleaming pile of treasure, illuminated by
moonlight piercing through holes in the mountain.
Salla
knew from past experience that usually dangerous creatures made caves their
lair. The mound of gold itself was suspicious and she made sure not to approach
it. Instead she kept her view locked on the dark shadows surrounding the cave.
Letting
her eyes get adjusted to the night and the darkness of the interior she tried
to peer deeper into the shadows but had no luck. The swordswoman waited for her
companions to arrive as she continued her stance.
Arana
arrived first like a knife cutting through the darkness. The coloring of her
leather armor made it difficult for Salla to see the rogue completely. She too
ignored the gold in the center of the room.
After a
few breaths Izarin entered the cavern, his red robes rustling together as he
moved. Casually he stepped to Salla’s side.
Flames
burst forth from Izarin’s hands and struck the rear wall illuminating the room.
For a brief moment Salla could see the dragon clutching the side of the cave
with its claws. Its eyes widened at the assault. It roared and its monstrous
sound reverberated throughout the cavern.
Salla
saw two glinting lights fly from the side of the cave, but Arana’s knives
bounced off the dragon’s golden hide. Izarin’s flames dissipated and the room
was again flooded in darkness.
“Relinquish
your valuables in that gold pile and perhaps I will spare your lives. At the
moment I am not hungry.” The dragon flashed bright teeth.
The
flame mage chanted words of magic, sounds Salla were unsure how anyone could
speak, and soon a small globe of flame, the size of a pumpkin, suspended itself
above the cavern. The entire room was again lit and Salla could better see the
dragon.
It was
the size of a small building and covered from head to tail with gold. There
were places on the dragon that were not coated, they looked like slashes and
gashes from weapon attacks. Salla saw a newer splotch on the dragon’s neck
which she assumed was from Izarin’s fire from earlier. The dragon’s true skin
was made of crimson scales. Massive wings folded against the dragon’s body
etched with small protruding spikes.
“We are
not here for your treasure, dragon. We came for something else.” Izarin stepped
forward towards the pile of gold but he kept his hands raised at the dragon.
“I don’t care what you are here for
mage! Now fulfill my demands while I am still merciful!” The dragon’s voice
sounded human but rough and choked with dry smoke.
“I am
afraid I have no gold or valuables to add to your pile, dragon. I travel light
and do not bring my wealth with me. My companions, on the other hand, should be
traveling with an ample amount of treasure. I should know—I was the one that
gave it to them.” Izarin held a hand towards Arana. The swordswoman could not
believe what she was hearing. Was her employer betraying them? She did not
think anyone could be so cowardly, but she had seen many townsfolk shy away
from danger.
Her
previous contracts of mercenary work often called for her to eliminate some
evil that was harassing a small settlement. The villain often did not match the
descriptions that the novices said, and she knew that if enough strong
townsfolk had banded together to drive away the menace they would have no need
for her involvement. Her travels had made her more disillusioned with
humanity—were heroes needed because others valued their own lives instead of
doing what was right?
“However,”
Izarin continued, “the amount of treasure they possess pales in comparison to
what you own. Let us instead make a deal, dragon.”
Aurion
leapt from the claw holds and crashed to the floor. The beast’s face was only a
few feet away from Izarin’s face and if he uncoiled his long neck further he
would be able to bite the mage with his massive mouth.
Salla
turned her blade slightly and made sure that her feet could move. She was
poised to strike with all her force should the dragon make an attack. The
swordswoman knew that she would only have one chance before the dragon readied
itself to strike again.
“Like I
said before, dragon, I am searching for something in this mountain range—a very
rare mushroom. I am sure you may have seen it in your stay here. What I propose
is that in exchange for a certain task my hirelings, I mean my companions do
for you—you will allow us to obtain this special ingredient and allow us safe
passage out of this mountain range.”
The
dragon craned his head up to make himself more imposing and dangerous. “And why
should I listen to the words of a mere mortal when I could simply kill the
three of you, here and now?”
“Because,”
Izarin said, “you need our assistance. I noticed that one of the mountain peaks
is frozen and there is something unnatural that makes its stay there. That
something is anathema to this place and is a danger to you. My companions and I
will get rid of this menace and thus help you out—surely this will be a benefit
for all of us.”
The
dragon slammed its right claw into the pile of gold and roared. Salla felt
sweat collect on her forehead and her grip loosened for a second.
“There
is nothing that is a danger to me, little wizard! Do not presume that my
inaction is due to fear. That thing remains because it is a nuisance that I have
no time to deal with.”
“Very
well, dragon. We will get rid of this nuisance that you claim you would not
rather waste your time with, and then afterwards we have permission to collect
my ingredient and pass safely through your lands. Is it agreed?”
The
dragon grinned and wagged its tail. “One more caveat before we agree to the
deal. You, flame mage, will stay with me while your companions complete the
task. You will stay here to keep me entertained until your friends return.”
Without
thinking it over Izarin said, “So it is agreed. Let our contract be declared
through our words. Arana and Salla, I need you to head to the mountain covered
in ice and deal with whatever is there.” A small wisp of fire magic floated
from Izarin’s fingertip and landed on Salla’s blade. “I will add the necessary
gold to compensate this additional work.”
Salla
turned slowly keeping her eye on the flame mage and the dragon when she noticed
that Arana was already standing by the entrance. When had she moved unnoticed?
Was Salla distracted completely by the dragon not to have seen the thief’s
movements? The swordswoman followed after the thief and exited the cavern. Too
much had happened in that short moment that her mind was conflicted by thoughts
and emotions.
***
Aurion
had waited until the two women were out of the vicinity before he really
smiled.
“It has
been a while, my friend. Mage of the flame what is your true business here?”
“It has
been too long, Aurion. I fear these days I am less free than when I was a hero.
Like I said I am looking for a special ingredient here in this place. Sorry to
intrude, I know how you like your solitude.”
The
dragon’s personality had changed completely. No longer was he the hunter that
lurked in the shadows. In fact Aurion was quite cordial.
“You
know I enjoy company every now and then. How else can I replenish my armor?” He
turned around and showed off his gleaming golden scales.
“Sorry
about the fire blast earlier. I had to make sure my companions were left in the
dark. If they knew exactly who I was or that I was friends with a dragon, well
they might treat me differently.”
“You
and your new recruits. I could never understand why you did not stick with one
group or the other. It is always new people to join you in your self-made
quest. What exactly are you trying to accomplish this time?” The dragon moved
towards the wall of the cavern overlooking the natural window. He could see the
two women as tiny little specks hiking across the mountains.
“I’d
rather not say. It might jinx the operation.”
“Being
rather tightlipped for an old friend.” The dragon snorted.
“It is
for one of my old companions. It will help cure him of his ailment.” Izarin
sighed.
“Always
helping out your friends. Are you sure you have given up on being a hero,
Izarin?”
“Yes
Aurion. I am no longer that kind of hero. Think of it more as a longstanding
debt I have yet to repay. But enough talk of the past. Would you like to watch
my companions’ progress?”
“If you
would be so kind, fire mage. Do you think those two will be able to stop that
thing? If I had tried to defeat that monster, I would have to rest for a week
to recover from my wounds. And who knows how much gold I would lose in the
process.”
“They
have to succeed, Aurion. I have placed my faith on these two. Should they prove
themselves they will surely be useful in the times to come. If anything
happens, I will be watching them.”
Izarin
let the flame sphere above the cavern dissipate and channeled more magic from
his fingertips. A flat rectangle of fire floated from his hands and covered the
opening Aurion was looking through. It showed the two women as they climbed the
mountain pathway towards the icy peak.
“Your
human magic is always surprising, no matter how many times I witness it. How
can you see them from this distance?”
“With a
little spark of my magic I can see the
whole picture. I am not that skilled at spying though.”
Aurion
laughed and stared at the fire screen Izarin had created, red flames dancing
against his eyes.
Arana
moved up the mountain pait with long nimble strides. Salla followed behind her
making more noise than the rogue did. The Caliasan’s trust in her employer may
have been misplaced however she continued to have faith. People of her nation
rarely betrayed their contracts, but she had heard of people from outside
occasionally lying and taking advantage of others. She did not know how people
could live with themselves afterwards.
She
heard the constant and rhythmic advance of Salla, heard the metal footsteps stomp
across the dry, desolate pathway, and heard her heavy breathing pressed out
from her lungs. Again Arana wondered how these foreigners could wear such heavy
armor. While there were knights and swordsmen who hailed from Calias, they,
like her, wore lighter leather armor. It afforded a sizeable amount of
protection without limiting mobility. These foreigners were like turtles,
reeling their soft exposed extremities into their shells whenever they were
threatened.
“What
do you think about this situation?” Arana heard the woman behind her ask.
“What
should I think? I trust my employer. He must have a plan with words he spoke.
His speech is a trick you foreigners use when dealing with dangerous
opponents.”
“It
sounded like he betrayed us. That he could sacrifice us whenever it is
necessary. I am really doubting our boss right now.”
“We
must have faith. If we start to doubt each other, in our motives and abilities,
then we will never succeed in our mission. You agreed to a contract, Salla
Frindane, and by your honor you must fulfill it. I am a Caliasan and I have
known no other way.”
Salla
nodded slightly as some of her doubts faded, but Arana could still see that the
swordswoman harbored some uncertainty.
They
traveled in silence after that. Arana took the lead and slowed her pace enough
for Salla to follow. She knew it would serve no purpose if she left Salla
behind. The mountain in the distance past the icy peak they were headed began
to shake. It rumbled furiously as a jet
of flame streaked out of a small hole at the top of the peak. Smoke slowly
drifted towards them and they used cloths from their packs in order to keep the
gas from entering their lungs. The acidic smoke stung their eyes causing them
to water.
After
about an hour of hiking, they finally reached the icy peak. Much of the
mountain was iced over not from inclement weather but something magical. Arana
read meteorological books and atlases in her youth that the Firebreath Mountain
Range never had snow or rain but was constantly covered in a thick dark smoke.
The peak looked like an icicle inverted, like a frozen stalagmite piercing the
heavens.
They
had made it to an opening that resembeled the dragon’s cavern. Arana checked
the knives in the hidden folds of her armor and heard the screech of Salla’s
blade as it unsheathed from its scabbard. The rogue did her best to ignore the
cold as the temperature surrounded her. She darted in ready to strike at
whatever beast might await them inside.
***
Salla
was still dealing with her thoughts when she entered the cavern. She held onto
her sword ready to swing her blade in different attack forms should something
strike her from above, below or if a ranged missile came at her from the
shadows.
Words
from the thief had given her some measure of assurance that at least she was
not alone in her dealings with the flame mage. If he betrayed them then surely
Arana would help her find a resolution.
Even
though she knew she was entering a cold place the change in climate caught her
off guard. Her steel armor offered little protection against the cold. She
exhaled and saw her breath pull out of her like a ghost manifesting itself. It
was almost sweltering outside. Sweat had been collecting on her body and she
could feel the slickness on her forehead, neck and between her breasts. But
inside the icy peak her blood froze and her fingers began to numb against the
cold. She moved more than usual, trying to keep the blood flowing in her veins.
“Move
out of the way!”
Her
instincts made her leap to her right crashing into the side of the cavern wall.
Where she had been standing a massive shadow became a gigantic snow ball. The
ball of snow and ice exploded on impact sending snow fracturing outward. The
sound of the shattering echoed across the room. If she had been there Salla did
not know how much damage she would have taken.
As soon
as the snow broke, Arana was running over it and in a few heartbeats she was
past the swordswoman and charging at whatever was in the room. Salla still did
not know what enemy they were facing. She turned her head and then she saw it.
In the center of the cave was a giant. It was covered in blinding white fur all
along its body. It was the size of the dragon from before, maybe even larger.
It was
hunched over and placed its weight on two massive forearms the size of tree
trunks. The giant looked like a gorilla except for the two crystalline horns
that protruded from the sides of its head and the long claws that extended from
its hands and feet. Salla had heard of these creatures lurking in snowy valleys
and mountaintops to the north. It was an Iciorg.
A pair
of daggers flew from Arana’s hands as she speeded towards the giant beast. The
Iciorg began to pound its fists into the ground roaring as the tiny blades
stuck into its flesh. The beast’s eyes squinted as it stared at Arana. When it
bellowed from the injuries, mucus and spittle flew from its mouth and the
Iciorg charged the tiny rogue.
Salla
recovered from her earlier impact and started to charge the beast herself.
While it was focused on Arana, who had changed direction herself, the beast
would be distracted. It would not notice her approach.
Arana
had thrown another pair of knives at the beast and they had embedded themselves
in the Iciorg’s face, right below its yellow eyes. The thief had reached the wall and stood with
her back against it waiting for the Iciorg’s advance. It continued running and
heaved its massive bulk at Arana. From Salla’s point of view she could not tell
whether Arana had been crushed against the wall.
The
swordswoman yelled, raised her straight blade above her head and swung downward
using the full force of her advance and all the strength in her arms to launch
her attack. Her sword went deep into the back of the Iciorg’s leg, spilling
bluish blood from the gaping wound.
The
Iciorg howled in pain. In response to Salla’s assault, the giant rotated its
torso and swung its arm back at the swordswoman. She released the sword and
raised her gauntleted hands to shield herself from the blow. The force of the Iciorg’s
fist sent Salla flying across the room until she struck the opposite wall.
Her
inelegant landing knocked the air out of her lungs. Salla forced herself to
stay conscious. She pressed her palms on the frozen ground to get herself back
up.
Ignoring
the sword lodged in its left leg and its blue ichor that stained the floor, the
Iciorg turned its bestial gaze on Salla. It banged its fist on the floor
creating cracks in the ice.
Salla lost her balance on the slick
ice and fell on the ground. Her body slammed into the ice yet again. The Iciorg
was making long strides towards her. She knew she would not be able to get out
of the way but tried desperately to move her feet. Salla’s gaze was transfixed
on the beast as the lumbering form bounded towards her. Her last hope, her
fellow party member Arana, was pinned inside broken ice where the Iciorg had
rammed her. Blood coated her leather armor and the rogue’s eyes were closed.
Salla closed her eyes unable to
shield herself from the incoming blow. She cursed her employer, Izarin the
flame mage, swore that if she saw him in the afterlife she would cause him
pain. Or better yet, she would find a way to haunt him as a ghost. An image of
the mage formed in her mind, an average face with no remarkable features, and
she heard words being spoken to her.
“Do not give up, Salla Frindane.
Wait for the opportunity I give you then use all your might to take it.”
She saw the massive beast raise its
furred fist high into the air preparing to deliver the final blow. A flicker of
brilliant light flashed in the corner of her eye and she turned towards the
opening. A large ball of fire flew with tremendous speed from the dragon’s peak
towards the Iciorg, drawn towards it like a moth to the flame.
As it struck the Iciorg the flame
exploded in blinding light. The beast roared and was thrown back. Salla closed
her eyes against the brilliance and summoned her last ounce of strength. In a
heartbeat she had pushed herself up and lunged at where the creature had been.
Her hands clasped around her sword hilt and she pulled it free from the
Iciorg’s leg. The flames burnt her hands and she gritted her teeth against the
pain.
The swordswoman threw the fiery
blade at the Iciorg’s throat. Her straight blade lodged itself in the monster’s
neck. The Iciorg tried to pull the small weapon from its throat but its hands
were too large to get a grip. Blue ichor sprayed out of the wound drenching
Salla in sticky blood.
The Iciorg let out a strangled
scream as it fell to the ground. Salla’s blade had cut off the beast’s air
supply. The Iciorg crashed to the icy floor. The sound it made echoed off the
walls. Salla tried her best to keep conscious but the pain was too much for
her. She crumpled to the floor as weariness enveloped her.
***
Arana managed to open her eyes just
as her employer Izarin and the dragon swooped into the cave. The flame mage was
riding on the gold dragon’s back. The rogue wanted to open her eyes wider but
it hurt her face to even peer through the squints she currently made. Perhaps Izarin
had used magic to compel the dragon to aid them, or he had created a new deal
while they had been fighting the Iciorg. Or the flame mage and the golden
dragon had a secret alliance and lured young and foolish adventurers into their
lair.
Arana did not doubt the
maliciousness or deceit that outsiders might display, but she was surprised
that it had been so elaborate. She tried to move her arms and legs, but she was
firmly encased in ice. The Caliasan had misjudged the movements of the Iciorg
by a fraction of a second. She jumped to dodge the beast’s charge but she
slipped on the ice. Arana would not blame it on the slick floor—her predicament
was her fault alone.
Izarin had knelt over Salla’s form
and placed his hand in her armor and over her heart. “Salla Frindane, if you
are still awake. Please endure the pain. I am afraid this will hurt a lot.”
Flames coalesced from his fingers and were absorbed into the swordswoman’s
body. Her eyes snapped open and she let out a painful scream. Her arms circled
around Izarin’s back and she clutched at him. Tears welled in her eyes but they
did not stream down her face. “You will need to rest a bit, Aurion will allow
you to rest in his cave. Sorry about the
pain. My magic is not exactly the healing type.” He lay her back down on the
cold ice.
Arana wanted to say something but
the freezing cold numbed her face and lips. Instead she watched as Izarin
approached her. His robes swayed as he walked making a swishing sound with each
footstep. He placed his hand under her leather armor and over her heart but the
numbness in her body dulled her senses and she could not feel any pressure.
“Good Arana, you are still with us. I hope it was not too difficult of a fight.
I think you saw what happened to Salla. I am afraid it will hurt as well but
not as much.” Flames radiated out of his hand and into Arana’s body. She felt
like she was burned alive. The intense heat melted together her wounds like she
was metal being placed into a forge. Arana tried to cry out but her mouth was
too frozen to move. Instead she shouted in her mind.
“…Failed,” She murmured numb lips.
“What was that, Arana?” He moved
his hand away and stood there waiting for her reply.
“I said I failed, Lord Izarin.” The
ice had melted from Izarin’s magic though she still felt her body wrapped in a
consuming blaze. “If I had been faster, my blades more accurate, my strategies
more sound—I would not have failed. I am sorry, Izarin, but please release me
from our arrangement.”
“Do not be so hard on yourself,
Arana. You did a very good job here. If you had not distracted the Iciorg with
your daggers, had not given Salla the time she needed to recover, you both
might have died. The beast is dead and that is all that matters.”
“But you had to intervene. Without
your spell we would not have won. I could feel your magic, sense it with my
eyes closed.”
“I never said I would not help.”
Izarin smiled. “I also stayed with the dragon for the remainder of the battle.
Now Miss Shevian, you need to rest. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Yes, Izarin.” She closed her eyes
and thought about the contract that she still wanted to make.
***
When Salla awoke she realized she
was in a different place entirely. She was in a mountain’s cave, it was not the
icy peak where she had fought with the Iciorg. Salla found herself in the first
cave where the dragon had been. She heard the clinking of gold beneath her and
saw a pile of golden coins and other treasure was what she had been lying on.
It was harder than the bed and the campsite she had used before, but probably
softer than the mountain cave itself.
She turned and saw Arana lying on a
similar pile of gold. Her injuries had been healed and she seemed to have a
smile on her face. By the window-like opening she saw Izarin and the dragon
Aurion laughing and talking about something. She was too far away to hear their
conversation.
Who was her employer that he could
befriend dragons?
The golden dragon turned its
sinuous neck and looked at Salla. It motioned one of its claws towards her.
Izarin walked closer and stood
beside her treasure bed. “You still have plenty of time to rest. We will not go
after the second ingredient until tomorrow.”
Her head buzzed with questions. So
much had happened while she was unconscious. First, how had her wounds been
healed? During the fight with the ice beast it had delivered a clean blow to
her body and she had felt her ribs break severely. The second was why was
Izarin acting so friendly with the dragon? The last time they had seen each other
the beast had threatened to inflict bodily harm to the adventurers. Would
completing the task of ridding the icy peak of the Iciorg be enough to befriend
the serpent monster? Finally, when had
Izarin the time to search for the mushroom? He was being watched by the dragon
while they fought the giant ice beast. He had no reprieve from the dragon’s
watch to look around the different mountains unless the mushroom was in this
cave.
She wondered which question she
should ask first when she realized she had been speaking aloud the whole time.
She blushed and gritted her teeth at the same time. Why should she be
embarrassed for speaking what was on her mind?
Izarin laughed the deepest laugh
Salla had ever heard from him. It echoed around the room, which again was lit
up by the flame mage’s light sphere. The dragon, she saw, was grinning a wide
smile full of teeth covered in gold.
“I healed you with my fire magic,”
Izarin started, “unlike most mages, I actually design many of my own spells
through trial and error. This trick I used helps repair wounds and heals you,
in a sense—the only side effect is that it hurts like hell. It is like a
cauterization of wounds except my fire can heal you without me actually seeing
or knowing the broken organs or bones.”
“The dragon Aurion is actually a
good friend of mine from a long time ago. I am sorry for the deception but it
is a trick that we often play on each other and my unlucky companions. As to
how we are friends, that is a story for another time. About a previous life I had.”
“About the mushrooms. I have been
to these mountains many times before because of my association with Aurion. I
know exactly where to find the mushrooms. I picked them up while you were
resting. Do not worry though. I left you under Aurion’s tender care.” The
dragon’s grin looked it was teasing her.
“The other trick you saw was my homing spell.
Normally you need to see a target or aim in their direction for a spell to make
contact. However, do you remember when I imbued your sword with my magic? That
bit of fire magic was enough to attract my fireball.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me that?”
Salla said.
“I did not need to. Where else
would your sword go?”
It was a lot of information for her
to grasp all at once. She tried to press herself up in order to stand but her
body rebelled against her orders.
“I told you, Salla Frindane. You
need to rest. No matter how much you endure the pain your body cannot handle
it.” Izarin pushed her down onto the golden coins.
She exhaled a deep breath and tried
to still the fast beating of her heart. Salla closed her eyes and did her best
to fall into darkness.
***
Arana took a trip alone back to the
icy peak. She snuck out while the others were sleeping, though she knew the
golden dragon still watched her leave from the shadows. The thief was nearly
recovered, at least physically.
Mentally, however, she did not
know. Failure still heavy on her mind, Arana was determined to do better. She
would move swifter, strike with more accuracy and strategize with her allies
actions. Despite what Izarin said she knew it was her fault and that he was
being soft.
The Caliasans who had perfected the
art of the rogue became like the wind themselves. They could disappear in plain
view, move faster than the untrained eye could follow, and be in multiple
places at one. They were a secret that know outsider knew. They were the
Justices.
Caliasans for the most part
participated little in foreign affairs. Sure, there were ambassadors and
embassies in the larger cities. But even laws that hindered Calaisan affairs
were met with little resistance. However, if a law in a foreign country became
too antagonistic towards the Caliasan people, a Justice would be sent to remedy
the problem. New evidence showing the politician was corrupt would be revealed,
or they would have connections to criminals with similar anti-Caliasan agendas.
In the very extreme cases, the lawmaker would die under mysterious
circumstances. Arana would be a shadow enforcer for her people. She would be a
Justice.
She ascended the path towards the
icy peak yet again. Her footfalls were gentle rustlings in the silence of
night. She was nearly invisible in the darkness, the radiant glow of the half
moon was her only light.
As she entered the ice cave she saw
the corpse of the beast that they had killed a massive lump of white fur and
blue ichor staining the glass like ice. She could smell the fetid, rotten smell
emanating from the Iciorg.
Arana slowly moved next to the
beast. As she approached it she flexed her hands and extended her fingers. She
was always ready to pull out her knives in case something else was lurking in
the shadows. Even though the Iciorg smelled repulsive there would be some
creature that feasted on its disgusting flesh.
The rogue recalled all the spots
where her daggers had been lodged. She pulled a special cloth from her pack and
wiped each of the bloody knives on the fabric. Arana took the time to remove
every trace of the beast’s blood until her knives were completely clean. She
used a bottle of cleaning solution from another pack in order to dilute the
dried ichor. Any excess material on her Cal knives could alter the trajectory
of her throws, and she needed them to be as precise as possible. She placed the
blades in her hidden garment folds and returned back to her golden treasure
bed. Tomorrow she would prove her worth.
***
As the bright sunlight streamed
into the dragon’s cavern Aurion let out a long and sleepy yawn. The few hours
these humans slept were not enough for an elderly dragon such as himself but he
wanted to see Izarin and his companions off. Normally Aurion might sleep an
entire week though it meant he would be considerably hungrier when he awoke.
Aurion simply waved his tail and nodded to the
two women. They were still young and the dragon did not want to have a strong
relation with them yet. If they continued to be connected with the flame mage
then that would change. He placed images of their faces in his memory and
pushed them deep inside his mind. So far none of Izarin’s acquaintances had
been able to achieve this.
With the women by the cave
entrance, Aurion spoke to Izarin alone. “I hope the rest of your adventure
happens as you expect it to, Izarin. Make sure you visit more frequently. I am
always intrigued by your arrivals—they are never dull and boring.”
“Well, my dragon friend, I do my
best. I will bring you a bag of gold for your help in this endeavor. My friend
will thank you as well when we succeed.”
“I will be waiting, Izarin. I still
do not understand why you changed your name. Of course I changed mine, but I
still retain the old one.”
“It is because, Aurion, I wanted a
new beginning. If I had kept my old name people would know who I was and would
be prejudiced towards me. This way I can experience everything untainted and
disappear like a puff of smoke.”
“Next time you really must cook me
something. I will bring the meat.” The dragon craned his head and stretched his
arm outwards. He needed a good stretch.
“Of course Aurion. This mushroom is
worth a fine meal prepared by a chef like myself. Is there anything else you
want?”
“No, Izarin. Just take care of
yourself.”
The flame mage nodded, joined his
companions and disappeared from the mountain.
Aurion watched him depart , then
lay his body atop the rest of his treasure and resumed his sleep.
***
They left the mountain in the
morning. Thick grey clouds obscured the sunlight and they traveled mostly in a
gray light. It took some time for them to recover their animals, made sure they
were healthy and fed them some horse feed from the saddlebags. The dry earth
left little for the horses to eat. They headed south along the very edge of the
mountain peaks and then crossed the Firebreath Mountains through a thin pass
near the southern portion of the range.
The thin pass through the mountains
was exceptionally narrow and the group had to travel in single file. They went as quickly as they could so that
the horse would have to endure the smoky stench for as short a time as
possible. When the earth shook they passed their horses for a moment unsure if
it was a landslide or an eruption of one of the nearby volcanoes. However, when
nothing happened they proceeded as normal.
After travelling nearly an hour
through the natural corridor and leaving behind the dry, black ground of the
mountains the terrain changed instantly. Shoots of vegetation poked out of the
broken earth and within moments they were surrounded in fields of green—lush
mounds of grass as well as wild herbs and mountain flowers. The flowers, mostly
scraggly and in a variety of colors had likely flown from the farther mountains
though Salla did not recall seeing any during her short time there.
Her body still ached from
yesterday’s fight with the Iciorg even with her rest and Izarin’s healing. She
tried shifting into different positions on her horse, keeping a straight pose,
leaning back and then forward against the saddle, but none of the variations
were comfortable. So in order to not focus on the pain she instead thought back
to Izarin’s words from earlier.
She did not trust him any more than
she had previously, but Salla was not sure if she could leave this mission. The
pay was still good despite the deceptions of her employer. She would just have
to be careful and rely on her skills. Though Izarin had said he would be
truthful from now on it seemed that the swordswoman would have to ask
explicitly for any information he was hiding.
She moved her horse so that she was
side by side with Izarin and began her interrogation.
“Where are we going now, Izarin?”
“There is a village about a day’s
rid from here. They raise a special kind of grain which is the second
ingredient I need.”
“Is there no other village or town
that has this ‘special’ grain?”
“To my knowledge, no Salla, there
is not. It only grows in this part of the continent and the townsfolk does not
import it to its neighbors or the major cities.”
“What kind of grain is it?”
“It is like wheat except instead of
golden in color the strands of grain as well as the heads are silver. It has
certain medicinal properties that I need for my recipe.”
“Will you tell me what your recipe
is for?” Salla said.
“It is to save someone very
important to me. He is like a brother. A long time ago he was afflicted with a
powerful disease that could not be remedied through magic or medicinal healing.
However I have discovered another means through which his illness may be
cured.”
Salla nodded. It seemed reasonable
and noble to save another. It was one of the most important virtues she
ascribed to when she was a part of the knighthood. She would sacrifice herself
to save others if it were needed. Still she had been very lucky so far and had
not really needed to consider that as an option.
“That is all for now, I suppose.
Thank you for being honest with me.”
“I am always honest, Salla
Frindane, though I do not always give all the information. Feel free to ask me
questions whenever you have them.”
As they traveled further and
further towards the town they saw more and more crops being grown in large
fields. Most of what Salla saw was stalks of wheat but scattered around the
different plants were the silvery stalks that they were searching for.
“Can we just take them now without
going to the town?” Salla asked.
“I would much rather we inquire at
the town about acquiring enough of the materials I need. Since it is very difficult
to grow, it would be better to ask the villagers for some, or perhaps buy it. I
can spare some gold.” He smiled which caused her to smile.
There was no one to greet them as
they rode their horses into the village. It was still midday when they arrived
but there was no one outside. No merchants were plying their wares, no children
running around and playing, no townsfolk were running errands.
“What is the name of this town,
Izarin?”
“It has changed many times over the
years, it should be Farothen or Farthen.”
“How can the name of the town
change?”
“Whenever a new mayor is elected by
this town he or she often changes the name of it. For a city or major trading
post it would be a headache to travelers and traders. But since it rarely
trades or participates in the political stage, the name changing only affects
adventurers.”
“Aren’t you quite knowledgeable
about this town, boss?”
“As a world traveler, it is in my
interests to know about various subjects however minor. Don’t you take into
account all the places you’ve been, the people you meet, the things you do?”
He had a point. She shrugged, “Yes
I guess you are right.” Her eyes looked away and surveyed the town. Simple
buildings made of wood were scattered almost haphazardly in the village. She
assumed that there was no building planner, rather the townsfolk created their
houses and utilized the landscape. Some houses had no space in between them,
but the doors and windows all pointed towards the center of the town. A few of
the houses had a red cross painted on the doors.
“What do those markings on the
doors mean?”
“There is currently a plague of
some kind that is menacing the town. The mark on those doors identifies that
someone who lives inside is a carrier of the disease. It is a fairly common
practice in rural areas.”
“What happens to the people
inside?”
“They are quarantined until signs
of the disease die down. Usually some medical authority in the town checks up
on the affected and makes rounds to each of the citizens in order to make sure
that there is no further contamination.”
“But,” Salla interjected, “how do
we know this person is not responsible for spreading the disease?”
“Hopefully the doctor, priest or
healer takes the appropriate precautions when he or she makes her visits.
Otherwise what you said could come true.”
The swordswoman glanced around the
town from where she stood reluctant to approach any of the infected houses.
Salla saw a few faces peer out from behind windows, but they darted back into
the shadows as soon as Salla’s eyes met her eyes. Her eyes then swept past the
central courtyard and she saw a drinking well. It was made of stone and had a
wooden bucket and pulley system to retrieve water. Next to the well, stood a
man.
Salla did not know how she had
missed seeing him during her first inspection of the town. He wore white robes
with yellow lines that crisscrossed in certain areas. The man was young maybe
her age or a few years younger. He had blonde hair that was long and flowed
past his shoulders. On the center of his robes over his heart were three red
stars.
“Boss, do you know what these stars
represent? I have never seen them before.”
“The three stars represent the
three virtues of justice, valor and order. The crimson coloring is for the
blood that is needed to be spilled in order to achieve these goals. For no true
virtues can be achieved without sacrifice. The stars are the symbol for the
Council of Light.”
Salla had never heard of the
Council of Light, nor had she heard of an organization that followed such lofty
ideals. Her own knighthood symbolized sacrifice, honor and compassion, and was
symbolized by the angels of war who appeared to her order in their greatest
time of need. Had she learned of such a group, no doubt, her order, the Knights
of the Seraphim, would have allied with the Council of Light.
“They were a powerful force many
years ago but something happened to them and the majority of their order was
dissolved. A few remnants continue to practice their beliefs but they are a
shadow of their former influence.”
“What happened to them?”
“There was an uprising by a rebel
group called the Cultists of the Creator. Fighting between the two sides led to
the demise of both groups. It was a tragedy because both of the organizations
had good intentions but were led down the wrong paths.” The man had a mace
hanging on the side of his belt and was staring at the well. He pulled out a
small notebook and started writing notes with a pencil.
“I don’t think he sees us yet. I
think I will make the introductions,” Salla announced as she stepped within
talking distance of the man.
“Excuse me, what exactly are you
doing here?” Salla asked the man.
The blonde haired man turned his
blue eyed gaze on Salla and stopped writing. “I could say the same thing about
you, woman.”
“My name is Salla Frindane,
swordswoman and mercenary, and if you told me your purpose here then we may be
able to help.” On Salla’s mention of “we” the young man turned and noticed
Arana and Izarin still on their horses.
“I am Coruscar Brandt, Paladin of
the Light. I do not see how a group of mere adventurers could help me. But I
shall oblige your curiosity with the answers you seek. This town of Farothen
has been affected by an unknown illness. I have been sent to discover the cause
of the disease and eliminate it.”
“How are you going to rid the
people of the disease, Coruscar? Are you a healer?”
“First, I have to determine where
it originated from then I can decide upon a course of action.” He wrote more
notes in his pad, scribbling furiously that Salla thought the pencil and the
paper might break from the force. Coruscar adjusted a clear set of lenses that
were resting on the bridge of his nose and after he finished writing, placed
his writing apparatus and lenses in an inner pocket of his robes.
“I believe the contamination lies
in this well probably spread by townsfolk drinking this water.” He turned the
crank of the well and drew in the bucket of water. “However, I am not willing
to drink this on my own to see if my hypothesis is correct. Since you are so
willing to aid in my mission, perhaps you would drink this water and confirm my
theory for me, Salla Frindane.”
For a brief moment Salla looked
into the bucket of well water and was compelled to drink. However, she drew
back and shook her head, “I am not foolish enough to do something stupid,
Coruscar Brandt. Even if this proved that this water was tainted, you do not
have a way to remedy the situation.” As cordial as she had been with her words
she could feel her hands clenched into fists. She felt warmth color her cheeks
and her teeth pushed against each other.
The way he said his words and the
matter-of-fact way he looked at her made her uneasy. Her pulse beat faster as
she looked at him, but it was not because of his looks. Coruscar acted like
nobility, and Salla’s many dealings with self-important, rich nobles had always
ended poorly.
On the few occasions when her boss
had been of noble descent she gritted her teeth and let his or her
holier-than-though attitude go unpunished. It would look bad if people, especially
prospective employers thought she could not hold her temper. Or argued with her
recruiters. Or thrashed them with her fists.
She pushed what she wanted to say
out of her mind. No matter his personality, Coruscar was trying to help these
people and cure them of a vile disease. Maybe they had simply had bad first
impressions. Still, Salla felt her hand being drawn to her sword.
Arana and Izarin had dismounted and
were standing behind her. The flame mage took the bucket of water and began
casting a magical spell. Fire formed in the bottom of the bucket and the water
in the container bubbled and boiled. As the liquid evaporated from the heat, a
thick green gas rose from the bucket.
“It is definitely transmitted via
the water,” Izarin said. “I have seen this contagion before and luckily we are
in the right place to deal with it.”
The Paladin studied Izarin for a
moment then examined the green smoke. “If it is as you say mage, then what is
the name of this affliction and how do we cure it?”
“The green smoke that you saw
before comes from burning water with trace amounts of fungal materials. To the
east of here is a swamp that has the disease embedded in its waters, the town’s
water supply must be connected. The dangerous part of course is that the water
looks completely untainted and tastes the same. However, there are traces of
very small particles and these small things are not good for the human body.”
“And how do we remove this
contamination?”
“Unfortunately you cannot remove
it. Boiling the water would work however it would create clouds of the green
particles and these would only fly off and deposit the residue via rain to some
unsuspecting region. Also there is no magic that can remove the taint from the
affected. Crafting a medical cure through the appropriate materials would take
too long and many of these citizens would probably perish.”
“Then how do we cure this?”
Coruscar had crossed his arms and stamped his foot.
“There is one way that I have
found. If we collect a special plant from the nearby swamp and bring it here I
can create something that can cure these people.”
“But I thought you said medicine
could not cure them.” Salla said.
“It is not medicine but rather a
kind of food that I would make.”
“Food? Feeding them something would
cure this disease?”
“Not just any regular food. It is
magic-infused cuisine. I created a new art as a magical chef.”
Coruscar moved to the flame mage
and raised him by the collar of his red robes. “This is ridiculous. Magic-infused
cuisine? I am a fool for even listening to this inane conversation.” The
Paladin threw Izarin to the ground. “I have wasted enough time hearing the
prattling of this mad man. Now that I know what is behind this disease I can
begin the purification.” He pulled out his mace and it glowed with an eerie
bluish radiance.
“Wait,” Salla said, “how are you
going to stop this disease?”
“I will burn down this town and
kill every citizen in these buildings. I thank you for your assistance in this
matter but I really must complete my task. Leave this town and do not interfere
with my divine mission.”
Salla pulled out her sword and
faced the Paladin of the Light. She could not allow him to hurt these innocent
people. Arana circled around the other side of Coruscar ready to throw her
knives when the opportunity presented itself.
“Wait.” Izarin stood up and brushed
the dust from his robes. “I will handle this. If I defeat you in combat then
you will join our company as one of my companions. However, if you defeat me, we
will help you cleanse this town.”
Salla did not understand why she
was making a deal with this villain. The three of them could easily stop the
Paladin from harming the people. “Why are you doing this Izarin? We do not need
his help. Let’s just finish him and help these people!”
“His assistance may prove more
valuable in the long run. I would admonish your thoughts, Salla. Three on one
is hardly something a knight would engage in. Besides I have my reasons.”
“Fine, wizard. Draw your weapon and
let us begin. And do not think your magic will save you. I am protected against
your blasphemies.”
“I need no weapon to beat you,
Paladin Coruscar.”
“I will not go easy on you.”
“Coruscar charged and swung his
glowing mace at the mage of flame.
***
Arana relaxed and sat down against
one of the infected houses. She was interested to see what Izarin could do and
had no intention of interfering in their duel. Her employer had meant that only
he would fight the Paladin and there was no malice or deception that said she should
strike while Coruscar was preoccupied. However, if Izarin had given the order
she would participate in the cowardly deed. A duel between two fighters was
honorable, but following the orders of her superior superceded that.
She lowered her assassin’s mask,
the leather that covered her mouth during battles, though for a rogue as
trained as her, the covering was only symbolic. For the young and inexperienced
it meant she would remain emotionless when fighting—she would gain no pleasure
and have no remorse for another’s death.
Salla, however, still gripped her
sword and seemed to be undecided in her future actions. For a former knight in
training her sense of honor was questionable. These foreigners were certainly a
strange bunch.
“Why are you resting there, Arana?
We have to be ready in case Izarin loses.”
“Lord Izarin said not to interfere
or rather he implied that it was a duel. We should not involve ourselves in
this affair.” The rogue sighed. She did not think she would have to explain
this to her.
“But if we don’t act and Izarin
fails, then we will have to kill these townsfolk.”
“Then pray to whichever God you
worship that Izarin succeeds. I, on the other hand, have absolute faith in my
employer and his decisions.”
“It’s not that simple, Arana.”
“To me it is.”
Coruscar swung his mace at the
shorter mage. Izarin raised his hand up to ward against the blow and a shield
of flame sprouted around his hand. Unfazed by the appearance of magic the
Paladin kicked at Izarin’s midsection and sent him rolling across the floor.
Before the flame mage could regain his composure, Coruscar charged again
leaning forward so that he could strike Izarin. A barrier of flame surrounded
the entirety of Izarin’s body as he stood up, and the Paladin’s weapon struck
the fire as if it struck a wall of diamonds.
“I see that you are serious about
this, child.”
“Do not think you can delay your
defeat with simple words or magic. I will hammer through your barrier and you
will yield to me!”
Coruscar swung and swung battering
Izarin’s fire barrier like he was hammering a nail into a board. The mace
continued to shine with blue light and with each successive strike the barrier
seemed to weaken.
Arana watched Coruscar’s form and
analyzed his barrage. The swings of his mace were refined and effective. There
was only a short time in between each swing and it would severely tax anyone
who tried to block each strike. The sheer power and speed of his blows left
almost no time for a counterattack but left him open from attacks from behind and
his flanks. If Izarin rolled and swung something at him the Paladin would be
defeated. However, Izarin had yet to manifest a weapon.
As the blows rained against
Izarin’s barrier, the flame mage stood with arms by his side and watched
Coruscar. He examined the white robes that he wore and the mace that he swung.
Other than observing he did not move or make any attempt to attack. Sweat began
to cover the Paladin’s forehead and Arana could see well developed muscles show
through the holy warrior’s robes. A faint glow of blue flashed underneath
Coruscar’s robes right above his chest. It must be some magical amulet that
wards him with arcana.
“I understand why you think you are
impervious to my magic, Coruscar. However, now that I know what shields you,
the light will not be able to protect you.”
Izarin focused his magic around his
left arm and lunged towards Coruscar’s chest. The Palarohk tried to strike the
outstretched arm but his mace was deflected by the flame barrier. The flame
mage pierced through the Paladin’s garment and pulled free a glowing necklace.
The talisman had been enhancing Coruscar’s mace and prevented any direct
assault by Izarin’s magic.
“Now that I have your amulet, you
have lost Palarohk.”
Coruscar lowered his weapon but his
knuckles were still white and his jaw clenched. The Paladin was reasonable and
knew that without his amulet, there was no way he could defeat Izarin. He
shouted against his defeat but was resigned to his fate. Though misguided by
his own sense of ethics, he was a man of his word.
“I will concede to your will, flame
mage. But know that when the mission is complete, our business is done,
heathen.”
He walked away towards the exit of
the town. Coruscar waited by the road, his arms folded and his breath heavy.
“Arana, Salla go with him and find
the flower. I will do my best to ease the townsfolks’ pain.”
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