We took off early the next morning, and conversation was sparse. There was an underlying tension in everyone as we settled into the idea that we were, in fact, on a quest to kill a dragon. It was insanity of the highest order. Yet each of us, in desperation or selfishness, had agreed willingly, no coercion needed.
We traveled for days remaining in our own worlds. Even Morah remained morose. Everyone was separated: the twins, Andregi, the knight, and the magus; we were not some valiant team of heroes from the stories.
At the very least, roads were easy, and it only took us three days of hard riding to reach Tar Town, a small, squat village near the edge of the Tar Flats. In the distance to the east was the Tar Flats.
“Well, this place is certainly shite,” Morah said, looking at the pathetic village. We arrived at night as scheduled. “Rooms have been arranged in what qualifies as an inn in this village,” Orian said.
During our trip, I tested my new reservoir to find that it took almost 100 minutes to completely dissipate. Also, the new heat absorption ring was far superior, filling my amulet in less than three minutes with a decent campfire.
It was so efficient that when expanding the sphere of influence to my maximum, which was now 18 paces, I could just barely keep the amulet at a roughly 60% charge.
-
At night, I read the runes from the scroll, copied into a small book. They were still illegible, but I was able to find a few repeating patterns throughout, almost like words in a paragraph.
‘There’s something in these runes, I just know it. But now wasn't the time for this.’
Our heavily armed and armored group sent the poor and downtrodden peasants cowering in their houses.
We rode out of town heading almost directly east. Lush grassland and shrubbery slowly faded as we traveled, and the earth became barren. We pushed our horses hard for miles. In every direction was only a black, unending expanse of death.
“Is it me, or is it getting hotter?” Morah shouted over the thunder of the horses' hooves.
“It is getting hotter. The sun and black soil make for a significant amount of heat.” Korin explained.
He threw a glance over to me. “Dear magus, can you do something about that? It is your job after all.”
Without responding, I created eight focused bindings, all of which connected in a series. Then, I expanded the spheres of influence to encompass each member. Eight five-foot-wide spheres of influence were difficult to maintain, but well within my abilities. Additionally, it was able to charge my amulet a small amount.
“Well, that is pleasant, it's so nice having a pet magus,” Morah said as he felt the cold air around him. “Rather cooperative of you, my dear?”
“Less heat, less sweat, fewer stops to refill our waterskins,” I said to him. I was so focused that his words, which were meant to tease and provoke, left me unmoved.
He sighed, “Here I thought you were warming up to me. Only to leave me in the cold.” Then he touched where the medallion was.
‘Don’t kill him yet, Myr. It’s just a bad joke.’
“It's something, isn't it?” Lindra said to Caan.
“Aye. The wonders never cease,” he replied.
Korin sniffed in distaste, “It’s simple magic, nothing more. We shouldn't waste our energy speaking; focus on our path.”
“Oh, a bit of tension, I see. Me thinks Korin doesn't care much for our magus.” Morah teased.
“Well, she is a murderer. Don’t knights hate that kind of thing?” Lindra asked.
“I’m not exactly an upstanding imperial citizen.” He threw a smile at me. “But there’s something special there.”
‘I can reasonably guess what it was. But that’s not my concern yet.’
Then with a cheerful voice, he said, “Either way, it doesn’t matter.” Then he asked Nara, “I’ve an inquiry, Nara, how exactly does one win the heart of an Andregi woman?”
Nara looked from me to him, bemused. “If a man desires a woman, he makes his desire known to her. She will, in turn, try to kill him. He must prove his mettle without armor or weapons. This will go on for months or weeks.”
He raised an eyebrow, “You’re joking, yes?”
Nira slowly shook her head.
I ignored their banter; my mind was too focused on the task at hand. It wasn't the difficulty of the journey or the insanity of the dragon. It was the reward that concerned me. It felt too convenient; Every bit of me believed that it was a trap.
Yet, contradicting that idea was the sequence of events. Why not attack me in the village, in my bed, or while I was occupied with the whore? If this were some overly complicated trap, then what was the purpose?
Was I pawn in a greater game I wasn't aware of? One involving Heywood, the magisterium, and our benefactor, who was no doubt the individual in the robes.
‘If all, powerful enough magical beasts, had the gems inside them, that would explain why they were exterminated, beyond the damage they could do to the native population of the empire. Then would the gem not be heading to the magisterium? Surely, it would have had some use in magic. Is there a trap waiting for me at the end of this journey? For now, I would assume that there is.’
~
We camped for the night, the worst case seemed not to be happening, and the horses were strong. I rode Cole, of course. He was an impressive steed and kept up easily with the fine battle chargers provided for the journey.
They were slowing down quickly; we simply didn't have enough food and water to sustain peak performance.
While everything around us was dead, there were plenty of dried and decayed plants to burn. I had an emergency orb of condensed wood in my pack, but beyond that, my source of magic was limited. The night was cold, so there was little energy in the air. The entire camp watched me curiously as I set up two energy rings, one sat in the fire while another sat next to it.
One was the platinum and gold heat absorption ring, which was connected to other: a parallel source circuit, standard for the energy furnace design. It only had room for twelve source runes, but with serial bindings and my Animus, I could bind 144 items together with passive bindings.
The third item was a control box, as I had come to call it. It was a simple square box, a foot wide with ten holes. Inside the box, carved into a piece of iron, were ten of what I was calling arcane switches.
The simple circuit that functions the same way as my energy reservoir does with iron and not orichalcum. It skips the step of attempting to store the energy. On top of each hole were words specifying what it controlled. Pots, pans, a water reservoir, five magical lights, and four heaters.
Everyone, even the knight, watched me in fascination as I explained how to operate everything.
“The heaters? Why use them? They're better than a fire?” Lindra asked, looking at me with the same manic eagerness.
“It’s better. Trust me on that,” I said, wishing to get off my feet. “You have the box, feel free to test it.”
Everyone looked at it sitting next to the fire. It looked like a child's toy to me if I was being honest with myself. Far from the elegant and beautiful craftsmanship expected from a magus.
“Come now, that won't do. If we must trust this magic, we need to know a little. I ain't asking for secrets.” Lindra said.
Cann added, “We ain't got nothin' else to do.”
“I second that,” Morah said with a grin. His brother simply nodded.
‘Might as well indulge them.’
“Look at the flame,” I said to the gentle spiraling flame. The circuit pulled and compressed the air through the platinum ring, which was sitting on some iron legs.
One by one, I activated each light, dropping a silver rod inside the holes. The lights, distributed around the camp, started glowing, then the heaters blew warm air. Magic was a wonder even with these simple trinkets.
“Now place your hand above the spiral of flame.” I didn't say it to anyone in particular, but Nara hopped to her feet and, without fear, placed her hand directly above the ring. Contradictorily, she didn't get burned.
“It’s a little toasty.” She mused.
“Instead of all the heat being lost into the air, it's being used by all these tools. The same energy just being used more efficiently.” I explained.
About a third of it was being diverted to my reservoir. Korin was paying attention, but didn't seem overly impressed.
“Amazing,” Lindra mumbled. Then she looked up at me with eager eyes, “So you just need this ring and a fire.”
I nodded, “Indeed, I could be as far south as Ferosia, and this will still work all the same.”
She laughed to herself, then threw a glance at Nara and Caan, who were currently sitting in front of a warmer, watching as the magical lights glowed brighter before settling with the same luminosity of a torch.
“Can you imagine the reaction if we went home with all this?” she asked them, nodding to all the magical items.
“I imagine the deep winter was easy for you,” Norah said. They were his first words of the night.
“It was quite nice actually, then lord Heywood tried to kill me.” I glanced over to Korin, examining her face for a moment.
‘No reaction.’
“Come on, tell us the story. Battle stories by the fire are a time-honored tradition amongst the clans of the Andregi.” Lindra said, spearing me with those dark and predatory eyes.
‘Very well, it's been some time, but I still can put on a performance. There’s one last thing to confirm with Korin.’
And so, I launched into my tale of battle with Heywood, making it seem like more than just me running for dear life. Much of it was fragrant lies, and I made sure to go off on strange tangents about Nobility and their excesses.
Their ruthless disregard for innocent lives. Their decadence, their depravity. All of it was non-specific, and most of my audience enjoyed it; one remained silent and emotionless, but she couldn't mask it well enough.
I could see it, the anger, the insult, as I dragged Baron Redstone’s name through the mud. My audience didn't care about the tangents; they lapped it all up like dogs dying of thirst.
‘The armor, her reactions, both to the story and reward, everything points to a single conclusion.’
I finished my story with me running into the night and fighting a magical cat, I even brought out one of its eye teeth, the rest were buried with the crown and other precious items.
‘How to use this? No, not yet, we'll see if this becomes useful later. Could she really be what I think she is?’
~
The water generator was a small steel barrel with a removable lid. I even made a funnel so that it could be easy to pour the water into our water skins.
I did the cooking since I was the only one who thought it was a good idea to bring along a sack of salt, herbs, and spices.
“My compliments to the cook,” Morah said as he drank the simple soup.
“Aye, didn't think we were gonna have anything with such flavor,” Caan added.
“I suppose you wouldn't have ready access to such things so far north,” I said as I sat with my own bowl.
We were silent for the rest of the night, and most seemed content to remain in their own thoughts.
Lindra and the rest of the Andregi were particularly interested in the silver treys, which held three-inch-wide glass orbs that glowed brightly. They were in quiet conversation, clearly about the magical items.
~
After three days with no significant source of feed, the horses slowed down considerably. It took more and more effort to coach them into moving; we knew this would have happened eventually. With no feed and the time it took to generate enough water for them, the horses were reaching the end of their usefulness.
“It's time now,” Norah announced.
Realistically, we couldn't eat all eight of them, so only three were killed while the rest were released. I unbridled Cole and released him. It was unlikely he would make it far; most likely, he would die a slow death from lack of water.
“Let’s get to butchering," Caan announced. I had little skill in the area, but the Northerners, however, were hacking the horses apart with little difficulty.
Lindra was unoccupied, so I called to her. “Can you end him for me?”
“I didn't think you would be hesitant.” She mused as she approached me.
“Not hesitant, but all I carry is a dagger, and I have no skill with the sword. There is no point in drawing it out with my clumsy strikes or having him thrash about and possibly injuring me.” I explained.
She seemed surprised.
“This surprises you?” I inquired.
“Not getting injured by the horse, I understand, but not wanting to draw out its suffering is surprising.”
“You think I enjoy killing and inflicting pain and suffering?”
Lindra shrugged, “Do you?”
I answered honestly, “If the person's worth killing, I suppose. I’ve had men try to rape me or threaten me with rape and death. I quite enjoyed their suffering. A few fools tried to challenge me when I was in Grenwood. Their screams were certainly pleasant. But if I don't know the person, or if my feelings towards them are neutral, then killing is just a chore, like anything else in life. As for the horse, what pleasure could there be in an animal's torment?”
She smiled and chuckled under her breath, “You are so like an Andregi woman, but different at the same time. “
“What do you mean?”
“We follow the ancestral belief: killing a worthy opponent in battle is something to be savored and remembered fondly. Killing without purpose or reason, for the sake of sating one’s own bloodlust, is despised.”
I shrugged, “Similar, I suppose, but I would never face my opponent honorably, and from what I know about Andregi, fleeing combat is a serious sin. I wouldn't hesitate.” Then I clarified, “Let me be clear, no one is exempt from the death I bring. Not even the young or innocent.”
Lindra smiled, “I wonder why, though we share blood, we are so different.”
“It is your upbringing that decides your beliefs and values: Your belief in honor, loyalty to your clan and family. To me, it is as meaningless as ash in the wind.”
“You did not have a good childhood.” Lindra deduced.
“I did not.”
“So, if you did have a different childhood, you would not be the woman you are now?”
I took a deep breath, “Almost certainly not. In some macabre way, I’m grateful since it put me on this path.”
“So your parents are to blame?” Lindra joked with a crooked smile.
“Not quite, it's a great delusion people have about me. I’ve seen people suffer far worse than I have. Yet they did not become me. The truest and most pure reason why I am what I am. Is choice”
Lindra blinked several times. “Care to explain a bit more?”
“My thoughts, values, and beliefs were not created through circumstance. They were chosen by me; certainly, I had influences. But in the end, I chose to let them influence me because I found some value in it.”
Lindra was silent for a full minute before she asked. “If everything you started from when you were a child, can you truly say you chose this life?”
I nodded, “It's a fair thought. But not all of my life was like this. I could have walked away and even now would have been happy, safe, and loved. I am the master of my fate; my origins may have set me on a path, but I chose to walk it.”
“That is fair.” Lindra drew a sword and, with a precise strike, pierced Cole’s heart. The horse died in seconds.
“Can you tell me more about the Andregi? I’ve read books, but I know precious little.”
Linda smiled widely, looking eager. She was a tall woman, built strong and hearty. I couldn't help wondering what she would be like in bed.
~
When Flaketh first arrived on Aniera, it wasn't with a single people, but multiple families and clans fleeing from the eastern continent. After gaining magic, she ruled with an iron fist, causing rifts. A few splintered off, some went north, forming the first of the Andregi. While others fled south, outside the reach of Flaketh. Those people eventually became Heliosians and Ferosians. Dozens of families, clans, and other groups founded their own countries, fighting for thousands of years until things eventually stabilized into the four kingdoms.
There were dozens of Andregi clans, but only nine had any real power or organization. Caan Nara and Lindra were from Clan Nerwellen. She wasn't specific, but I was reasonably sure they were related or directly in line to become clan chief.
Chief, surprisingly, was not won through combat; clearly, the history books were inaccurate. Sure, they had to already be great warriors to even be considered, but it was more than that. There were several requirements.
First was demonstrating leadership by forming a warband; if one cannot inspire others to fight and die on their side, then they would be unworthy of the position.
Next was the family line; chief wasn't a hereditary position, but the more entrenched a person's blood was in the clan, the higher their chances. Chiefs usually groomed their children to take their position.
Finally, there was the pilgrimage south. Prospective chiefs headed south with their warbands seeking resources, wealth, knowledge, and anything that would aid their clan. Some worked as mercenaries, others stole, and a few raided.
At the turn of the year, the old chief would step down, and the prospective new chiefs pleaded their case to the people. No fighting, no threats, only words. Now I was reasonably sure why she and the rest were on this quest.
~
I was stuffed with as much horse meat as reasonable, though salted; it was tough and had an unpleasant flavor.
Staring out at the unending blackness was mind-bendingly boring. It wasn't until 45 minutes into my watch that I spotted something in the distance. Before it disappeared.
Then I saw it again, a small shimmer. Then, two, three, ten.
‘Eyes, those are eyes.’
“Everyone up,” I said loudly. It took them a moment to rise before dozens of low groans echoed through our camp.
“The hells are they?” Morah asked, drawing two daggers.
“Sounds like wolves or bears. Neither? Both?” Norah said unhelpfully as he readied a sword and shield.
“Their circling, readying for an attack,” Lindra realized.
I quickly strapped on my newly acquired helmet and maximized the energy drawn from the campfire. My heart raced quickly as I drew my dagger in my left hand and readied the gold and steel dragon's breath, embossed into my new gauntlets. Koin was still struggling with her helmet. My mind raced as it formulated a strategy.
“Everyone! Backs to the campfire; eyes towards the enemy. Wait for them to attack, I’ll open them up with fire.” I commanded.
Considering there were at least 50 of those things out there, no one contradicted my commands.
“Korin Norah, to me, make sure none can take me down. Andregi and Morah, prove your skills in battle to me, hold the front. When I yell down, everyone hits the dirt, understood.” I got nods of affirmation.
They were circling, yipping, and growling. The beasts were excited. For all my travels, I’d never heard anything like them, nor was there any word of roaming bands of beasts in the forest.
‘The horses, maybe they were attracted to the scent.’
Suddenly, they stopped, then as one they charged. Sprinting at us from all directions. “Down!” I yelled.
I extended my right hand and pushed the binding to my reservoir to the maximum. Fire erupted over the heads of the front line, consuming the sprinting beasts in a massive spiraling cone of flame.
Then I turned on the spot and bathed every beast around us in flame, lighting up the night, and killing dozens in each pass.
‘No! There were far more than fifty.’
For almost fifteen seconds, I kept up the power of the double binding, burning every wave that came towards us until my reserve ran out. I had to pause to charge. Fortunately, I killed enough that instead of a massive wave, they ran at us in more manageable numbers.
“Magus rest. Leave the stragglers to us while you gather your strength,” Korin said.
I nodded.
‘She understands that I'm out of energy for the moment. I’ll let them take the lead while my amulet recharges and aid them if we’re being overrun.’
The beasts sprinted towards us; they looked almost like wolves, but their mouths were overly large with many jagged teeth, which were dripping black ichor. Their bodies were too large, around waist height, with bulbous black pustules.
Everyone else acted. Nara, Caan, and Lindra fought with the fury of bears, hacking and slicing at the monsters with axe, sword, and spear, respectively. Their thick hide armor stood firm against the teeth of the creatures.
Caan was like a berserker, bringing death with each arc of his massive great sword, shearing limbs from the beasts or bisecting another in a single movement. His bulk provided the perfect coverage for Lindra and Nara to make more precise shrikes, but still with that northern aggression.
They were laughing, cursing, and screaming bloody murder as they fought, clearly enjoying every moment of the fight.
Somehow, Lindra managed to spear two of the beasts at once and had to abandon her spear for her sword.
Morah was a whirlwind of dexterous death, throwing a dagger, dodging, cutting a hamstring, and killing the creatures in fluid movements.
Norah and Korin were similar in fight style, opting for sword thrusts over their large shields. Killing and defending in a single movement, their heavy armor, especially Korin’s mostly enchanted steel, made claws and teeth useless.
“To the right, Magus,” Korin shouted. A dozen of the beasts sprinted towards our right flank in a tight group. Though fighting was only going on for half a minute, I had enough charge to be deadly.
The group was consumed in a wave of bright blue-red fire.
The fighting continued; what I thought were fifty or so creatures turned out to be well over two hundred.
The defenders yelled, cursed, and screamed as they fought back against the waves of monstrous hordes of deformed hounds.
Our line didn't break, however, and eventually, bestial aggression couldn't stand against plate armor, magic, and imperial steel. Finally, after ten minutes of fighting, the last of the beasts ran off.
We were silent as we watched their retreating forms. Everyone was tense, ready for another wave, ready to start killing again. But even that fire burned out as we realized that there would be no further attacks. All around us were burning corpses.
“I thought the tar flats were barren,” Caan said, sounding angry.
“That's what history books and Orian’s information claim. Clearly, the information is incorrect. ” I stared at the stinking, misshapen hound, its face almost reminded me of a bear.
“Any injuries?” Korin asked.
“A few cuts and scrapes, they were aggressive, but they're just beasts in the end,” Caan said.
Morah and I stared out at the endless black of the Tar Flats, in the dead of night, it seemed to go on forever.
“We’re only three days in, and if I’m guessing correctly, we’re in for a wild journey,” he said, with not a hint of humor. His mix of plate, leather, and chain was covered in black ichor.
I stared at the corpses all around us; the smell was horrific. At the very least, I was untouched.
“On that we can agree, so much for restful nights,” I said, annoyed.