Deathsworn Arc: 01 - The Last Dragon Slayer

by Martyn Stanley

  Vashni smiled smugly, “Elf magic... It’s a closely guarded secret.”

  Korhan frowned, “Could I learn it?”

  “No, it takes many decades to learn the language needed to safely and effectively perform this feat - you would wither and die of old age before you could consider yourself adept enough to use it, even if you devoted the rest of your days to mastering it.”

  Korhan rode in silence for a moment, “Is there a defence against it?”

  “Of course... But why should I teach you? I may wish to subdue you again, perhaps take you back to Eldenizar to be my ‘play thing’? It will be so much easier if I leave you defenceless and vulnerable... I could take you back, and make you my personal slave... Perhaps even make you my eunuch? No I will keep my options open, thank you barbarian.”

  Korhan winced, and screwed his face up. Her threats seemed frivolous and were delivered with a smirk... Yet... “You jest lady elf, I have never heard of elves keeping slaves...”

  Vashni shrugged, “Oh I don’t know, the elves are generally against slavery, that is true... I’m sure we could make an exception for you though hmmm? Wouldn’t you like to be my personal eunuch? With the right words I could make you desire nothing more than to volunteer... to become my personal eunuch...”

  Korhan sighed and trotted in silence for a moment, considering his response, “I don’t believe you that this would be possible... Why do you continually try to mess with my head lady elf?”

  “Because it amuses me... Take heart though, it amuses me all the more that you are intelligent enough to recognise that it is a game, and to play the game a little... You may be right though, it may not be possible, it would depend on your willpower as to whether you could resist such enchantment - though it would probably have to be very low indeed for something so drastic to be effective.”

  “Hmph, I do not desire to put my willpower to the test... You still won’t teach me to defend against ‘elf magic’.”

  Vashni chuckled, “It’s not ‘really’ elf magic, it’s a form of magic, we call it whispering. We simply suggest something in the language of the old ones, and fortify our words with the power of our will.”

  Korhan formed a puzzled look on his face, “Words? Words are not powerful, how does it work?”

  “Simple, the tiniest particle of the tiniest grain of sand is bound, to listen to the language of the old ones. You simply have to make the suggestion in a persuasive enough way and fortify the words with enough will. To say that words are not powerful is very foolish barbarian, words have sent nations to war, or soothed broken hearts, words are the most valuable social currency in the world, it always has been this way and always will be.”

  “You are wrong; coin is more valuable and more powerful. It too has sent nations to war and brought joy and destruction in equal measure. Words are powerful, but coin, in sufficient measure can bring the bard to song or influence political decisions... Coin is more powerful.”

  Vashni, listened, and pondered for a moment, “But cannot the more eloquent beggar win more coin when it is time to receive alms? Or the bard simply decide, to perform a ballad in the town square, before offering around his hat? Words control coin more than coin controls words. Coin is worthless; it only has worth because society chooses to ‘accept’ that it has worth. If everybody universally decided that coin was worth nothing and gold was as valuable as lead - then it would be so. Coin is simply an intermediary to be used in the exchange of goods or services. If you were stuck in the middle of the great divide, with no help, water, food or transport - and I were to offer you a flask of pure water or a thousand gold crowns, you would be a fool to take the gold.”

  Korhan listened, thinking about her arguments before responding, “That is true, but likewise if you lived in a coastal town which was under siege and the last ship to leave port was taking highest bids for places on the boat - having a thousand gold crowns would be worth more than a flask of water, value is only ever decided by needs.”

  Vashni smiled at this, “True... I like you barbarian, you are more interesting than you look - though your argument is flawed, the gold in that case is still of no use, it is simply an intermediary in a greater exchange, whatever feat or work you performed to earn the thousand gold pieces for a place on a boat.”

  Korhan smiled to himself at her compliment, “I argued the worth and the value of gold, not the use, besides, could you not argue that having enough ‘worth’ to exchange for things is indeed a ‘use’ rendering gold useful after all?”

  Vashni scowled, clearly flummoxed by this latest argument, “Hmmph, possibly... You are starting to bore me now barbarian - ride with someone else and give me some peace.”

  Korhan couldn’t help but feel hurt at this rejection, but he wasn’t surprised. Part of him wanted to drop back, so he could admire her from behind, but somehow he felt he should show her the same disdain that she had shown him. He snapped his reins and trotted up so that he was alongside Saul. “Wizard...”

  Saul looked across, “Korhan...”

  “What do you know of ‘elf magic’ or whispering?”

  “Very little... Brael may know more - the gravian are known to use the same technique... Why do you ask?”

  “I was asking Vashni about it, she was not particularly forthcoming though.”

  Saul sighed, looking Korhan in the eye, “Be careful with Vashni Korhan, she will be a useful ally on this endeavour, no doubt - but try to distance yourself from her. I can see how you look at her, but relationships between elves and humans seldom end well. They are as different to us as we are different to the beasts in the field.”

  “Hmmph, maybe... I do find her both interesting and frustrating in equal measure.”

  “That is probably precisely her intention. I suggest you avoid speaking to her and do not allow yourself to become a source of amusement for her.”

  Korhan grunted agreement softly, almost to himself, then rode on in silence.

  Harald was riding alongside Brael, trotting quietly along when he turned to the gravian, “Did you not sleep at all last night Brael?”

  Brael shrugged, “I do not need much sleep Northman... In truth, yesterday morning I did not expect to survive the day. I appreciated simply being ‘alive’ enough that tiredness did not compel me to sleep.”

  “I still can’t understand why the Berger of Trest was executing you, when it appears your crime was at worst ‘stealing apples’.”

  Brael smirked, “The Berger of Trest does not like gravians, I could of course accuse him of being an evil tyrant, from my perspective that would seem true... Though many of the townspeople would disagree. His troops are well paid and equipped; he gives alms to the poor and tries to do the best for his people.”

  Harald shuddered at the nonchalance of Brael’s response, “He was going to behead you! For nothing!”

  “Nothing? You are very naive if you think that is the truth Harald, son of Korvak... The fact is, as despicable as it may be, some of the people of Trest... Would’ve found it entertaining to watch a dark elf beheaded in the town square. I am sure the Berger would’ve found it entertaining, but also that his decision to execute me was made at least partly for the entertainment of the townspeople... You are an honourable man Harald, I am sure - but most people in this world unfortunately are not, and take pleasure in others misfortune...”

  Harald looked disgusted, “Men’s lives should not be ended, for the entertainment of the masses.”

  “True... However I think it will continue to happen in towns like Trest, where the administrator of the town is as amoral as the townspeople.”

  “It would not happen in my homeland, the rolling plains of Kushak or the open steppes of Silavria...”

  Brael chuckled softly, “Maybe... I think the sort of mindset that allows such atrocities to happen breeds better in towns, after all to dwell in such filth and corruption... How long can one dwell there without becoming corrupt oneself?”

  Harald nodded, “True,
we share one opinion gravian, I could never live in a town or city, wallowing in filth and risking disease and pestilence every day.”

  Brael raised an eyebrow to this statement, “Human towns and cities may be thus... But it is not so in the underdeep. Durth Orza is a magnificent, clean city where waste is disposed of in a neat and orderly fashion, where disease and pestilence are rare or unheard of... I hear Cormaroth, the capital of the Empire is similarly ‘clean’ though I have never been.”

  Harald stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Aye, Cormoroth is an exception to the rule - though even fine Cormorath has its slums and shanties outside the citadel... Of course Empress Jade has restricted the possible locations of slums and shanties, they are well hidden from the entrance by which traders and nobles enter.”

  “Have you spent much time in Cormaroth northman?”

  “A little, I spend as little time in cities as possible; I do not like to dwell in one place for too long.”

  During these conversations Votrex was riding alongside Silus. Silus, despite his anxiety at the presence of the magical races, was finding a Votrex a definitely preferable riding companion to the elves - particularly as Korhan seemed to be becoming more and more raptured with the elf. He couldn’t understand the Northman in that respect, to Silus she seemed alien and sinister, her motives, how she thought was completely unfathomable to Silus. He turned to the dwarf, “Votrex, Saul called you Gorthok of Durgheim Holt - what does that mean?”

  Votrex looked troubled at the mention of his title, and he spoke uneasily, “Gorthok, hmmm, it means something like ‘chief engineer’ and Durgheim Holt is the mine of my ancestors.”

  Silus frowned, “Mine? Your family are miners?”

  Votrex chuckled, “All dwarves are miners, though to dwarves a mine is more than a place to extract minerals, it’s also a home.”

  “Will you return to Durgheim Holt after this task is complete?”

  “I... I do not know... Durgheim Holt is sealed off in some way, my clan, the Vanguard are inside, yet I cannot enter. I was out of the mine, visiting a neighbouring Holt, on behalf of my father Garric, for trade negotiations - when I returned the mine was magically sealed and nothing I have been able to try will break the seal.”

  Silus trotted along in silence for a few moments, “Hmmm, I’m sorry... It’s a cruel twist of fate to lose a home and a family in one stroke.”

  Votrex sighed, “What of you Silus Mendelson, how did you come to become a fabled dragon slayer?”

  Silus shrugged softly, “I am not from a line of great warriors. My family were farmers, I come from Velth, a small village to the north of Cormaroth... Farming was not for me, so I joined the imperial army. The pay was good, lodgings and provisions were provided in truth we did not have to do that much fighting, the odd bandit camp, some patrolling, of course all that changed when the dragon came to light...”

  As the party rode on, Vashni snapped her reins and trotted along until she was alongside Korhan again. He glanced over his shoulder, a little surprised to see her sharp featured smiling face approaching, “Lady Vashni...”

  “Barbarian...”

  He sighed, “My name is Korhan, lady Vashni.”

  She smirked at this, “I am aware of that, but I shall call you barbarian, thank you very much... I have been thinking about your request... That I teach you to defend yourself against ‘whispering’ and I have decided I shall, offer to teach you. The lessons will be hard, and in training you, I will make you look foolish. I shall make you feel very uncomfortable at times, and you will put yourself completely at my mercy... Would you still like me to train you?”

  Korhans eyes lit up, he struggled to conceal his excitement. “Yes! I will do whatever it takes...”

  She smiled, “Good... In that case I name you my apprentice. You will do as I ask without question; you will ride a respectful distance behind me, unless I wish to tutor you. Whenever we stop you will see to my horse, my provisions and prepare my bed before seeing to your own needs. If you wish to address me, you will address me as Mir§a Vashni and bow your head. I cannot promise that you will succeed, but if I deem you incapable of learning, then I will release you from my service and you will no longer my Ri§ine...”

  Korhan listened, squirming in his saddle as he did. What she was proposing sounded rather demeaning. He suspected she was ‘messing with him’ again, purely for her amusement... But at the same time it sounded plausible that this was a part of elvish culture, and that though she was subjecting him to it for her amusement, she was genuine in her offer to train his mind. He looked her in the eye, “Lady Vashni...”

  “Mir§a Vashni you mean...”

  He groaned, “Mir§a Vashni, is this really necessary? Can you not simply teach me and have done with?”

  She sat up straight in her saddle, “No, it is not ‘necessary’, but it amuses me, therefore it is my price for training you. This is however, how an elvish ‘Mir§a, Ri§ine’ relationship normally works... Though in truth the Ri§ine would normally be a child and the adult mentor, the Mir§a would be expected to beat the Ri§ine regularly to instil respect and obedience in them. In our relationship, I will not take you over my knee - the price for being trained is to become my ‘Ri§ine’ failure in your duties will not result in a beating, it will result in the end of our relationship and your training. Training your mind is not a quick task, at the moment your mind is like a wet sponge, leaking stray thoughts all over the place, porous and open to suggestion. If you are to defend yourself against mental attacks and become resistant to ‘whispering’ and more, then I shall have to carefully mould it, shape it and strengthen it... While teaching you to fortify and use your willpower... It will take a long time, longer than our quest will last I’m afraid. If you find you cannot submit to the demands of the ‘Mir§a, Ri§ine’ relationship, then we will part and go our separate ways. If you can, and wish me to train your mind, then after our quest is complete, you will accompany me wherever I choose to go.”

  Korhan rode along in silence for a few moments, to Vashni’s amusement. Vashni sat up straight in her saddle smirking smugly to herself as Korhan considered his options. Eventually Korhan turned to her and bowed his head, “Mir§a Vashni, I accept you as my mentor.”

  Vashni’s smugness grew exponentially, almost to a look of triumph. She was clearly amused by this turn of events. “Good... Ri§ine, I will now give you an exercise to practice as you ride along. When we stop - I will test you. I want you focus on what you are doing, the reins in your fingers, the rocking of your hips on the saddle, your breaths, in and out. No stray thoughts! Do not let your mind wander; remain focused on the task at hand. Riding a horse at a steady trot is a simple task, but that makes it all the harder to remain focused on. Practice this, then I will test your willpower and mental strength when we dismount.”

  Korhan bowed his head and began to drop back a little, “Yes Mir§a Vashni...”

  As he dropped back he matched her speed at a respectful distance giving the outward appearance that he was her servant. As he did, he tried to restrict his thoughts to what he was doing. It sounded simple, but in fact keeping mind tethered to the task of riding seemed almost impossible.

  The strange events going on between Vashni and Korhan did not go unnoticed to the others. Harald dropped back to fall in alongside Saul, “What in Ishar’s name is that fool up to?”

  Saul smirked, “Making a fool of himself... I do not know beyond that... I have tried to warn him. The ways of the fair folk are alien to us and he would do best to keep his relationship with Vashni professional. I fear he has chosen to ignore my advice and if anything seems to wish to grow closer to her.”

  Harald glanced at Korhan and rolled his eyes, then trotted to the front. Meanwhile Saul slowed his horse to drop back, level with Korhan, “Korhan, what in Ishar’s name are you doing?”

  Korhan scowled at him for breaking his concentration, “Trying to better myself wizard!” Saul raised an eyebrow, “Would you care to explain yours
elf?”

  “Sigh... I was disconcerted when she was able to subdue me so easily yesterday - I have asked her to teach me to resist this kind of magic and she has agreed.”

  “Kind of magic?”

  “They call it ‘whispering’ she seems to think she can train me - so I am giving her the chance. I have agreed to become her Ri§ine in return for her to teach me to resist mental attacks and ‘whispering’.”

  Saul laughed at this, “Her Ri§ine? There’s no direct translation in our language - but by agreeing to this, you realise you are more or less agreeing that she can treat you as a child, or as a servant and chastise you at will?”

  Korhan glared at Saul, “I realise, but that is her price and I believe it is a price worth paying.” Saul shrugged, “At that, you may be right, the elves are truly the masters of magic and mental prowess...Just be sure she doesn’t make too much of a fool out of you.”

  At that Saul trotted back towards the front of the group. Smirking to himself at the situation Korhan seemed to have fallen into. Brael noticed his obvious mirth and snapped his reins, speeding his steed up to join the wizard, “What amuses you so wizard?”

  Saul, smiled, “It seems, my grey skinned friend... That Korhan has volunteered to become Vashni’s Ri§ine, in exchange for her tutelage in the art of mental defence.”

  Brael did not suddenly burst into laughter, though he had to hold back a tiny, wry smile from forming on his lips, “Hmmm, interesting... Of little consequence though - there is no magical bond forcing him into his servitude though... If he becomes unhappy with the situation he is free to end his servitude. Tis a pity my curse is still present, I would have been able to train him in mental defence without forcing him to endure this somewhat degrading treatment... I only hope she does not abuse his trust... She seems as frivolous and care-free as any elf I ever met and suspect that at least part of her motives in this, are surely for pure amusement.”