Death Flag

  “Oh!” Shayna exclaimed, practically jumping where she stood as if she had recalled something. “I get it!”

  Warren laughed again as he stepped forward, reached into the chest, and pulled out what appeared to be a long, black stick. It was impossibly long, and Madison thought that Warren was going to have to step away from the chest before it came out completely. Warren stood it up in front of him, and it was basically as tall as he was. Even in the pale light, Madison could tell that Warren was looking at it with something akin to reverence. His eyes had grown wider by the second as it was withdrawn from the chest, and his mouth hung slightly agape now.

  Madison looked at it curiously. “Is that a . . .”

  “There’s no way,” Warren answered slowly, clearly in awe of what he was holding. He turned it over in his hands several times examining it, then lovingly ran his hands up and down the wood shaft as he examined it. “I didn’t think these still existed . . .”

  “Did think what existed?” Shayna asked, watching him as he looked it over. “What do you mean?”

  Warren held it up in one hand, turning it over and over as he tested its weight and balance. “This is . . . This is amazing . . .”

  “Warren!” Madison said emphatically, drawing the other man’s attention away. “What is it?”

  “It’s a bow,” Warren answered. “Or, well, it will be once I string it. It’s a very, very old one, I think. Most of the ones we use today are smaller, recurve bows. They’re more compact, easier to travel with, easier to draw back, and better for hunting small game. This is a variation of . . . Well, it’s hard to explain. These types of bows were popular in ancient times. They’re made for killing people over long distances, and . . . Well, that’s really about it. You’d punch right through anything else if it was too close. These were actually outlawed at one point in time since two lords got together and decided it wasn’t fair or honorable to have to march into battle against them. If you can line up a good shot with a steel-tipped arrow, these will actually punch through certain types of armor. Entire armies were being bombarded before they could ever take the field, and it was decided that it was too dishonorable to have to fight opponents you couldn’t even see or retaliate against.”

  “I see . . .” Madison’s voice fell flat as he processed what he was being told. “So, by ‘in the past,’ you mean during the wars a thousand years ago.”

  Warren wavered for a moment as if he didn’t want to answer. The topic was fresh on Madison’s mind since he had just had a conversation with the dragon about it, but Warren had no idea that conversation had even taken place, much less what its contents might have been. Most people didn’t seem to know much about the history of this world, and Madison had picked up on the idea that most people didn’t have a clue what had actually gone on. He had heard so many variations and additions in bits and pieces from various different sources that it wasn’t surprising.

  “Yes,” Warren answered hesitantly when Madison held his gaze.

  It was clearly a touchy topic for him, likely because he was being careful not to mention something he shouldn’t. They really shouldn’t have been keeping secrets from each other at this point, especially since so much of what they were doing was a result of what happened a millennium ago, but it wasn’t a battle that Madison wanted to take up here and now. He knew it wasn’t anything personal: it was just the way Warren had been taught. He had been brought up in K’yer Utane, where secrets were kept and harbored and spread around like wildfire the moment they came to light.

  “So, what’s the trick?” Madison asked instead, turning his attention back to the chest. “Some type of magic riddle that you have to know how to solve before it will give up its loot?”

  “You just have to know what you want!” Shayna answered, reaching inside.

  She stood back up a moment later, holding a pair of long, wicked-looking daggers. Even in the dark, Madison knew that they had been expertly crafted. She spun them around in the palm of her hand, flipping them back and forth and tossing them up in the air before catching them. She wasn’t nearly as awestruck as Warren had been, and she looked more like a kid on Christmas playing with a new toy.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Madison commented idly. “But how do you know what you want if you don’t know what’s inside? I’m guessing it works on the same type of magic our lockers do, but it isn’t keyed for anyone specific?”

  “Pretty much,” Warren answered. “And even if you don’t know specifically what’s in there, you can generalize it, and the magic will work it out for you. I thought about pulling out a bow, and this is what I got. You said the dragon left this for you?”

  “That’s right,” Shayna answered, flipping the daggers around before shoving them into her belt next to her old one. Realizing that he still had her other, Madison extracted it from his belt and passed it back to her as well. Shayna placed it back in its usual place at her waist and then reached into the box and started fishing around as if she were actually feeling something. It took a moment, but she eventually pulled out something else as well: a sleek pair of black boots that looked like they were made from a sturdy black leather. It seemed as if she had struck upon an idea then, and one by one, she pulled out matching leather armor, all black and all made from the same material.

  “Interesting,” Warren mused as he watched her remove first one piece and then another. Seeing that she had struck upon an idea, he joined her in reaching inside and began removing a second type of leather armor. While made from the same type of material, his set appeared to be colored from pale browns and greens, and it came initially looked like something of a motley set at first glance. Rather than being disappointed, however, he seemed rather pleased.

  “Well?” Madison asked expectantly. “Do you have a history lesson on the armor as well to go along with the bow?”

  “What?” Warren asked, jerking his eyes away from his newfound treasure long enough to scowl disdainfully at Madison. “No, of course not. It’s simple ranger gear, but it’s made from some type of leather I’ve never seen before. It’s lightweight and pliable but doesn’t yield much when I press down on it. It’s actually perfect for someone like me.”

  “Mine as well,” Shayna answered as she watched Warren work over the pieces he had removed from the chest. “Although, I’d say this was made for someone who wanted to be a thief, not a ranger.”

  “Probably an assassin,” Madison corrected. “Even though there really isn’t much difference, I guess. If it was a thief, it’d probably be a bit less restrictive, and I doubt the gloves would be as thick. Assassins tend to be a bit more geared for combat rather than stealth, right? I’d also imagine there’d be some type of face-covering mask if it were to fit the trope as well rather than just a simple hood. Sure, it’ll cover your face a bit if you let it, but it’s not exactly the same either.”

  “You see to know a lot about assassins and thieves, Madison,” Warren commented. “Anything you want to tell us about your life before coming to K’yer Utane?”

  “Uhhh . . . No. Rather boring, actually.” Madison wanted to dismiss it out of hand as being off-limits, but Warren had already pointed out that they weren’t actually at K’yer Utane, so the social norms didn’t all hold up out here the same as they did there. Despite his little chat with the dragon lady who seemed to know more than she should about who Madison was and how he came to this world, he hadn’t trusted anyone else with his secret yet. There was a chance they might actually believe him—but there was also a good chance that it would have repercussions he couldn’t predict. He knew he was marked for death, and anyone might be after him at any point in time. He’d just be turning his friends into liabilities if they were captured and questioned. It seemed ridiculous and outlandish to expect that to happen, but that was just how his brain worked. He wasn’t just trying to protect himself, he was also trying to protect them as well by predicting the worst possible outcomes.

  Warren hefted the pieces of
armor and examined them one by one, and after he was finished going over each piece carefully, he made them disappear into the small chest he carried at his waist. Madison saw what he was doing and nodded in understanding. “That’s a good idea for now,” he commented. “Store them away until we can find someplace private to change.”

  “Huh?” Warren looked away from his task. He acted like he was going to ask a question, but closed his mouth and shook his head instead, clearly changing his mind. “I keep forgetting you’re relatively new to all this. It’s actually pretty simple. You can call out anything from inside the locker whenever you want it—and that includes equipment and clothing. Here, watch.”

  Warren lifted his feet to draw Madison’s attention to them, and when he set them down again, they were surrounded by a faint glow that lasted for a split-second. The change was so quick that Madison would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking directly at it, and the next thing he knew, Warren’s old pair of dirty brown boots had been replaced with the new pair he has just taken from the chest. Warren walked back and forth a few paces as if testing them out and then nodded appreciatively. His entire body shimmered with the same glow, and his simple garb was completely replaced with the drab-colored armor. The pieces were primarily a pale green and trimmed with a dusty, tannish brown that would have blended in with the forest perfectly during any month except winter. They had clearly been designed with a ranger or woodland scout in mind since they would allow someone to travel through the woods for hunting or scouting without standing out.

  Madison just shook his head as he watched the transformation. “Alright. That’s . . . a new one on me. Is there, like, an instruction book or something that I should know about? Maybe a list of all the cool little things that people can do but no one ever bothered to tell me?”

  “Nope. Just good old trial and error and word of mouth,” Warren responded.

  Madison looked over at Shayna and saw that she was repeating the same process Warren had. The pieces of armor slowly disappeared from her hands and then reappeared on her body. When she was finished, she was covered from head to toe in jet-black leather armor, and she practically blended in with the night around her. She had a small frame, so unless someone knew to look for a black patch that happened to move from time to time, she’d be completely indistinguishable in the dark from any other solid object. Madison was mere feet away, and once she pulled the hood forward so that it dropped down over her face, he might have overlooked her in the dark if he hadn’t already known that she was there.

  “I don’t know where all of this came from, but it looks like some decent gear,” Madison commented.

  “There’s honestly no telling,” Warren commented. “Dragons aren’t exactly common enough that you’d be able to have a conversation with them, and most people wouldn’t take the risk even if they happened to come across one. To be honest, there are probably less than a few dozen people alive who have ever even seen a real one, much less spoken to them. They’ve always been known to be strange, whimsical, and aloof, often keeping to themselves for decades at a time. Some people claim that the dragons will always attack without provocation, but that’s not usually the case from what I’ve heard. I actually did a bit of research on them several years ago as a bit of a hobby project, and while we don’t know a ton, we do know that they aren’t usually aggressive without a reason—at least most of them.

  “There appear to be at least three distinct classes. The elder dragons are what most people classically think of as a dragon. I’m fairly certain that was what I saw earlier. They’re supposedly the largest dragons, incredibly smart, and incredibly curious. A lot of the time, they know things they shouldn’t know, and people have even claimed that elder dragons could read their mind after meeting with them. Some myths put them as being created at the same time as the world and even predating mankind. A magician several hundred years ago concluded that they were somehow tied to the essence of the world as well. Rather, their strength is apparently drawn from the world around them that they tend to. No one really knows how many elder dragons there are, but they’re extremely rare. You never find them—they find you.”

  Madison remembered all too well that he never would have noticed that the behemoth form was even in the cavern with him if it hadn’t made its presence known. He seemed to have some uncanny sixth sense that told him whenever magic was being cast nearby, and that had been the only tell that gave it away. He quite literally could have passed right by and never known it was there. “I see,” he answered at last. “What about the other two classes?”

  Warren seemed to brighten up whenever Madison showed interest in something he could explain, and this was no exception. “The second tier are much smaller and fiercer than the elder dragons. Not all are hyper-aggressive, but they can be in rare cases. They’re extremely territorial and more animalistic than their older cousins, and their intelligence is on par with that of a well-trained dog. They can grow fairly large, but most never reach more than about twenty feet long—and that would have to be a rather old one. They’re scattered throughout the world and come in a variety of different colors and types. Some have a natural affinity for water, some for fire, and some for earth. We know that they tend to take up residence in similar areas to their affinity, but that’s about it. There’s never been a report of one that was smart enough to talk to in order to ask.

  “The third and lowest tier is your common household wyverns. They’re rather small and incredibly dumb. They attack anything that moves unless it’s bigger than they are, which is basically everything, and they rarely grow even as large as a small bear. Most of them are actually so small that you wouldn’t even be threatened by them if you had a weapon handy. The largest you’ll ever find are the basilisks, and as long as you stay out of swamps and away from lakeshores, you should be fine. Even those don’t rarely grow to reach ten feet in length, and they walk on stubby legs.”

  “That’s a long stretch between the elder dragons and the ‘wyverns’ as you called them,” Madison said. “I can see why people would get the wrong idea about them all though. No one ever sees the smart ones, and the dumb ones are everywhere and attack at random if they’re feeling brave or territorial. Not the best recipe for success if you’re trying to make friends.”

  “Are you guys going to trade stories all night long? Or are we going to get moving?” Shayna asked impatiently. “I shouldn’t have to remind you, but we have things to do that can’t wait, and you’re over here giving out history and biology lessons. Seriously, Warren. You should know better.”

  “You’re being the voice of reason?” Madison asked, turning to her. His eyes almost slid past her until he realized that she hadn’t moved from where she had been standing before. “Sorry, just a short time, and then we can get a move on. A small amount of preparation goes a long way for prevention.”

  “I’m not that small!” Shayna said petulantly, stomping her foot. “And stop making fun of me for it!”

  “What?” Madison asked, realizing what he had said without even intending to. “No, no I actually just . . . You know what. Forget it. You’re right. I guess that means it’s my time to play in the goody bag . . .”

  Madison reached his hand back inside the chest, feeling slightly apprehensive as he did so. Part of him was curious and excited to see what the dragon would have prepared for him. She seemed to have a good deal of information on whom he was traveling with and what they specialized in, and she had given them some impressive gifts. Not only had she supplied them with sturdy equipment that was a clear upgrade to what they had been given at K’yer Utane, it was highly-specialized gear that was likely also incredibly rare and incredibly old if Warren was to be believed. A certain other part of him, however, was also a bit nervous. He had become accustomed to dealing with magic in all varying shapes and forms, but he still genuinely disliked anything that had to do with it. It was too unpredictable and too destructive, and from what he had heard, there was no end to what was
actually possible. A few people had tried to explain the requirements and boundaries to him—intent and purpose and ability—but he still found it hard to imagine that anything wasn’t possible as long as it was logical—and that scared him more than anything.

  He concentrated on pulling out any type of armor first. He had no idea what to expect, so he simply focused on acquiring what the dragon expected him to use. Despite the amount of time he had spent in this world, he had never even put on a single piece of actual gear or armor. In fact, other than the random assortment of training swords and awkward weapons he had picked up here and there, he had never even really used a single piece of real equipment. He knew that armor of all varying shapes and sizes and types must exist. Warren and Shayna both possessed tactical leather armor that was drastically different not only in design but in purpose. They seemed to have been created from the same material, but Madison was willing to bet that each had been imbued with some type of property that would give its wearer additional benefits as well.

  He felt something in the palm of his hand that was akin to the sensation he got whenever he materialized something out of his magical bag, and then there was an unexpected weight in his hands. He pulled his arm back and extracted a heavy pair of black leather boots. The leather was firm and hard but soft to the touch, and when he dropped them to the ground, they landed with only a soft thud. He stomped on the toe of one out of curiosity and was pleasantly surprised when they didn’t give at all.

  “They’re enchanted,” Warren observed, picking up his own two feet and looking at the shoes there as if seeing them again for the first time. “Amazing. They’ve been imbued with magic so that they won’t give when something comes in contact with them, but they’re still light as a feather and soft to the touch. This type of spell . . . it’s really complicated.”

  Shayna gasped, her eyes popping open slightly. “That type of spell isn’t supposed to exist any longer . . . It’s part of an arcane lot of battle magic that was lost after the wars. The Hunters supposedly tracked down every last magician who knew the art of battle magic and slaughtered them after things calmed down and stabilized.”