by Pirateaba
I shout as Az’kerash’s finger glows. He makes no response and I desperately call out.
“I have a letter! I’m a messenger!”
The black glow around his fingers fades. Az’kerash pauses.
“A letter? From whom?”
“Teriarch. He sent a letter and a ring. It’s in my belt.”
I don’t feel the spider webs vanish. But they’re suddenly gone, and I scramble to my feet. I reach for my belt pouch, but it disappears from my waist and reappears in the Necromancer’s hand. He casually opens it and discards the belt as he takes both ring and letter in his hand.
For the first time he diverts his gaze from the floating collection of body parts overhead and glances down at the letter. I see his pupils only once—pale ghostly white light shining from behind two black corneas.
He doesn’t even look at me, but my heart falters in my chest. There’s something behind those eyes. Something inside that gaze, something else. It’s not Human anymore, if it ever was. But then he looks down and blinks once, and I look away, at his dark robes made from shadows and midnight.
“Let me see. Ah, yes. I was expecting this.”
I hold my breath. Az’kerash reads the letter swiftly, murmuring around.
“The usual long-winded greetings…my deepest congratulations to you…accept this small token of my esteem. Ah. And he’s sent a ring enchanted with warding and movement spells in the Silvarian dueling fashion – no, knowing him, it’s most likely an original. A nod to my passions and an expensive and practical gift. Appropriate.”
The Necromancer flicked his hand, and the ring vanished.
“How…predictable. A note and token of esteem to mark my two hundredth year of existence. He needn’t have bothered especially given our strained relationship. But Dragons are quite conscientious about such things and they are nothing if not formal. I don’t suppose this comes with a request for a reply? No, I don’t believe he would want to impose. Ah, well.”
The Necromancer looked over at Ryoka.
“Is there anything else?”
—-
Ryoka tried to work moisture into a suddenly dry mouth. What? Her mind was full of roaring static.
Az’kerash turned back towards the ever-changing monstrosity above.
“Is there anything else?”
“N-no.”
“Very well then. I suppose it would not do to kill one of his messengers. Go, then.”
Ryoka stood in place for a few seconds, but her legs wisely moved her towards the door. The static roared louder in her ears. A voice whispered in her ears.
Let’s see.
Hundreds of miles.
Countless dangers.
Two armies at war.
Frost Faeries.
Necromancer and undead minions.
For this. A delivery worth eight hundred gold pieces.
A letter. A…happy birthday letter and a token gift.
“I’ll just…be going now.”
The Necromancer didn’t even glance her way. He was totally engrossed in his project overhead.
“Ah, hm. Goodbye. Shut the door on your way out.”
She did, pausing only to pick her belt off the ground. Ryoka stared at the door, and then looked over and saw Venitra. And Kerash. And Bea. They stood around her, faces full of—
“The Master let her go? Why?”
“He is busy. His decision may be in error.”
“He doesn’t make mistakes.”
“No. But we should hold her until he is finished.”
“Agreed.”
Ryoka stared at them. Static.
She punched Venitra in her bony face and felt her hand crack. Broken bone? No, just horribly bruised. She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a glowing orange-and-pink potion. Bea reached for her and Kerash intervened, pushing her pallid hands back with his.
“We need her alive.”
“Apologies.”
Ryoka uncorked the potion. The undead didn’t even seem to regard her as a threat. She downed the entire bottle. Wasn’t she supposed to only take a few gulps?
Venitra reached out towards Ryoka. Her fingers began to close over the young woman’s shoulders and then froze.
Ryoka blinked at the fingers. They’d stopped? No, they were moving slowly. Carefully, Ryoka moved backwards and watched as the fingers slowly closed together. The bone-woman’s face registered shock, and then Kerash moved, striking out at Ryoka, faster, but still at a snail’s pace to Ryoka.
She walked away. Then began to jog. And then run. Ryoka frowned, but her legs moved against her will. Faster, faster, faster.
“Ohnothisisn’tgoodIcan’tstop.”
Out of the castle in a blink of the eye. Ryoka’s mind was racing, but it couldn’t catch up with her body. Something in her was steering her legs, but her conscious mind was still trying to process what was happening. And then Ryoka was running—
—-
Zel’s soldiers charged towards the enemy, and the Drake [General] lifted a bloodstained claw and roared, inspiring his warriors and demoralizing the enemy army. Without either Periss or Ilvriss, their ranks were crumbling as his superior Skills and abilities turned the tide of the battle.
“Reform ranks and prepare another charge!”
This would shattered them. As Zel took his place at the head of the line, he felt tired. Too many cuts from Ilvriss’s damn sword. But he was getting old, too. Too old for meaningless battles.
The enemy was still regrouping. Zel narrowed his eyes. His troops were trying to form up, but this was the moment.
“Charge!”
He thundered across the ground, feet splashing in mud and blood. The enemy soldiers raised shields and tried to close ranks, but he could see the fear in their eyes. Zel raised a claw like a hammer and hesitated. His head turned.
“What is that?”
—-
Like lightning. Like the breeze on a summer’s day, elusive, fleeting, a breath of air and then clear skies. She runs.
A lone Human runs out of the forest, out of the place where everything died. She runs through magic, through snow and across forests and hills, her feet barely touching the ground. Her body is constant motion, and only the air holds her back. Her wake is a gale and storm; the snow blows up around her and the wind creates a snowstorm in the air.
She runs through the snow, across the battlefield, between soldiers who turn and stare at the blur of movement kicking up a storm of snow behind her.
Warriors raise their weapons and slash at the Human, archers loose arrows and mages blast the ground around her with spells. But she runs on, between charging soldiers, ducking a scything blade, vaulting over a falling soldier. On and on, ceaseless, unable to stop.
A messenger, a carrier of words and private things.
A courier for both rich and poor.
A traveler with no allegiance but her own.
A Runner.
Screaming, but in words spoken so quick only the Frost Faeries flying ahead of her can hear.
“Ican’tstop!Goddamnitstoplaughingandhelpme!”
The faeries hear her of course, and they keep pace with her easily. Perhaps they could stop her, but they’re laughing too hard to reply.
2.26
Erin stared hard at the golden substance bubbling and turning brown over the fire. It was cheese. Cheese, on top of a tomato sauce spread evenly over a doughy base.
With pepperoni. It had to be with pepperoni, or else there wouldn’t be any point, would there? Erin was a firm believer in pepperoni; she could take or leave pineapple and she refused to acknowledge anchovies.
These were the essential secrets of the universe, and this was the substance that made the world spin. Okay, maybe they weren’t essential, but they were pretty important!
“Pizza.”
Erin breathed the word, as she sensed the moment was now. She reached forwards and yanked the pizza off the metal rack over the fire, glad that she’d remembered to wear gloves this time.
It was glorious. Perfectly round, with a radius you could bite into with fluffy crust and generous toppings of both cheese and meat. None of the skimpy, bare-bones layer over the tomato sauce, thank you very much.
Erin slid the pizza onto the counter and grabbed a knife. She didn’t have a pizza roller, but it was easy enough to cut into the traditional eight slices. That too was essential; you couldn’t have unevenly sized slices, or someone might get stabbed.
It was done. Erin stared at her newest creation and felt her stomach rumble. But no, this wasn’t for her. This was for her customers.
As Erin swept back into the common room she enjoyed the sound of that word. Customer. She had some! But maybe that wasn’t the word for the people sitting in her inn. Hm. Patron? No, that sounded awful.
“Guest.”
That was a good word. Erin beamed as she sat her pizza down in front of the Drakes who eyed the food suspiciously. She didn’t know them, and that was glorious too!
She had guests that weren’t friends. It didn’t sound like much, but it was progress! For the last few days, Erin had been getting Gnolls, Drakes, and the odd Human into her inn, and not just her friends and Pisces. She was making money, and with her newest creation she was sure she was going to make even more.
“Is this…‘pizza’?”
One of the Drakes poked at a slice with a claw. Erin nodded proudly.
“Yup! It’s really good! As good as a hamburger. Try it; you’ll see!”
One of the three Drakes who’d come to her inn for lunch looked at his companions. He shrugged, and gingerly picked up a still-steaming slice. He blew on it a few times, and then nibbled it.
His eyes widened, and his tail twitched a bit. Erin watched his face and his tail anxiously. Drakes were like dogs, and Gnolls were even more like Dogs. They could lie pretty well, but their tails always gave them away.
“Hm. Lots of cheese. And chewy. Warm.”
He bit deeper into the slice as his companions watched expectantly. Erin held her breath. His tail twitched…and then began to wag!
Just a bit. But when the Drake finished the rest of his slice and reached for another one Erin knew she’d done it again. Or rather, copied it again.
“How is it?”
The Drake chewed thoughtfully and then nodded in satisfaction.
“Delicious. It quite suits our needs.”
Erin beamed, and the other Drakes nodded happily in approval. One picked up a slice, but rather than eat it, began to dissect it, examining the parts.
“Melted cheese, sauce…from a tomato? And rising dough. Extraordinary. But how delicious!”
The third Drake nodded. He wasn’t eating either, which was strange to Erin, but he also inspected the pizza with great interest.
“It seems easy to make. Simple recipe—”
“Tomatoes might be hard to come by. Not much call for them.”
“There will be. Put in an order and we’ll have enough.”
The first Drake nodded as he licked his claws.
“Cheese and sauce base—the meat is good, but I can see sliced fish being equally appealing. I’ll do a few prototypes.”
“Prototypes?”
All three Drakes froze and looked over at Erin. The second one gave her an unconvincing smile.
“W-well, we were just saying what an extraordinary recipe it is.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks? Are you some kind of [Cooks]?”
The third Drake nodded. He stood and extended a claw to Erin. She shook it, still not quite sure what was going on.
“Terres Hangclaw, at your service. I’m a [Chef] at the Dancing Drake in Liscor.”
“Oh, it’s very nice to—”
Erin paused as her mind caught up with what he’d said. She frowned at the third Drake, who cringed as the other two glared at him.
“Wait a second, what was that? You’re a [Chef]? Why are you here to—”
One of the Drakes hurriedly tossed down several silver coins on the table. His two companions rose and they gathered up the slices of pizza and retreated towards the door.
“Much appreciated Miss Human. But we’ve got to go. Don’t worry about the change!”
They practically dashed out of the inn with the rest of the pizza. Erin watched them go, mouth gaping.
“I’ve just been plagiarized! Again!”
She stared at the table, at her coins, and at the open door. She felt she should be upset, but they’d left a lot of money for one pizza. But they’d taken the recipe! …Which wasn’t hers. But it was still theft!
The door began to swing closed, but someone caught it. Ceria walked in, staring over her shoulder suspiciously.
“…Did I just see three Drakes running away with a bunch of food in their arms?”
“It’s called ‘pizza’ and they just stole my recipe.”
Ceria blinked at Erin. It was hard for the girl to explain, but the half-Elf got the gist of what had happened after only a few seconds.
“Ah, recipe thieves. It happens. The instant someone makes something worth eating, there’s always a huge race for other famous [Chefs] and [Cooks] to find out how it was made and improve on the recipe. I suppose it’s a sign of how well those hamburgers did that they were sticking around for you to come up with something else.”
“Yeah, but—!”
Erin gestured helplessly at the door as Ceria helped her gather all the silver coins. Ceria glanced out the door—the Drakes hadn’t yet made it to the city gates. They weren’t exactly fast on their feet, especially as they tried not to drop the pizza slices.
“Want me to hit them with a spell? I’ve got a pretty good aim.”
“No, no. I just wish I’d had a day to sell my food before it got taken away. I guess they’re going to earn a lot of money tonight.”
Ceria patted Erin sympathetically on the shoulder.
“If it helps, I think people will know where the food came from. Next time, you should only bring out the new stuff when it’s dinnertime. That way you’ll get at least one big crowd.”
Erin sighed, and Ceria offered her the handful of silver.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like they’re your only customers.”
It was true. Erin had been happy with her increase in clientele, but they still weren’t exactly the crowds that she’d seen in Peslas’ inn.
“I guess.”
She took the silver coins, and then hesitated. Erin looked over at Ceria and smiled, forgetting about her stolen pizza recipe for just one second. She’d been looking forwards to this all day.
“Say, Ceria, I’m running low on silver. Can you exchange a gold coin for me?”
“No problem.”
Ceria reached for her pouch, and blinked as Erin handed her a shiny gold coin.
“That was quick. You shouldn’t keep you gold lying out.”
“Oh, I had one lying around.”
Erin smiled mischievously at Ceria. The half-Elf frowned but reached for the coin.
“Well, thanks anyw—”
Ceria paused and stared hard at the gold coin Erin handed her. Then her eyes slowly travelled over to one of the windows. There, the boxes full of faerie flowers were still blooming, golden and shining in the sunlight. Ceria stared at the gold coin, and then narrowed her eyes at Erin. The Human girl tried to keep her face straight as Ceria peered hard at her.
“A gold coin, huh? Well, I’m happy to accept one. Let me just—”
Ceria raised the coin up and tried to bend it with both fingers. She frowned.
“Huh.”
The half-Elf hesitated, and eyed Erin’s twitching face. Slowly, she raised it to her mouth and bit the gold coin. She eyed the faint marks her teeth had left in the soft gold.
“It tastes like gold, but—Erin. Is this an illusion or not?”
“It’s fake! Isn’t it so cool?”
Erin pointed to the flowers.
“I just figured out how to make them turn into c
oins like the faeries did! See, if I pluck it and say ‘gold’—”
Erin carefully broke a flower off by the stem and Ceria blinked. Suddenly, Erin was holding a second gold coin in her hand.
“That’s incredible, Erin. I didn’t even sense any magic. And these coins feel like gold—real gold too, not the partially gold coins we use.”
She frowned at the coin in her hand and hefted it slightly.
“It weighs the same, feels the same, tastes and smells…rot, that’s good magic. Can you transform the flowers into anything else?”
Erin shook her head.
“It doesn’t seem to work with other things, really. But the coin feels real for an entire day. Then it turns back into a flower in the morning.”
Ceria eyed the bed of flowers speculatively. The blooms were growing quite fast even in the winter, and already Erin had seen a few more shoots poking their head out of the soil.
“Looks like that faerie prank is more useful than it seems. Are you planning on doing anything with the flowers?”
Erin looked at her friend blankly.
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know…use them to buy something nice, perhaps?”
Ceria rolled the gold coin between her fingers. Erin frowned.
“Why would I do that? I mean, they’d find out and it’d be stealing, right?”
Ceria coughed into one hand.
“I know a few Human shopkeepers that—rot, never mind. You’re too nice.”
Erin laughed. Ceria tossed the coin back on the table and folded her arms.
“But seriously, Erin. Those flowers might be useful, but your new recipes are just as valuable. Be careful about letting people run off with them, okay?”
Erin nodded meekly. She chatted with Ceria for a bit longer before the half-Elf trooped upstairs to rest and practice some spells. Erin sighed as she went back into the kitchen. She put the gold coin on a counter next to her silver ones and sighed twice as she stared at the empty pan.
Another day up, another day down. It wasn’t as if it had been a particularly bad one so far, it was just that Erin felt like she was missing something. Someone, perhaps. She wondered where Ryoka was. She missed being able to talk to her.