Thursday, April 19, 2012

Story 1: Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2 of the current story I am writing. While it might be separated into more than one chapter and revised, the overall feel should be the same. Enjoy.


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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