by Andrew Rowe
With that thought in mind, I sheathed my sword and concentrated on the scabbard.
Lock.
I returned to my unarmed practice, visualizing opponents and striking them with punches and kicks. Minutes passed. My muscles began to ache, but that was good. It was a familiar, reassuring feeling.
My mind wandered.
Where are the others? Wrynn should be here, at least. Did the sage ever send her?
What about Lydia? As long as I don’t wear the mask, she should be able to find me...
Is she still chasing Sterling?
When Sterling came to my mind, I felt my fist tighten.
Burn.
Flames gathered around my fist, and I struck forward, imagining his smirking face.
The fire detonated in a spherical burst. I shaped the explosion so that it didn’t hurt me or light anything in the cave on fire, but it did make a noise that was louder than I’d intended.
I winced, turning toward where the dragon had been sleeping.
She was sitting up, watching me intently.
I took a breath, lowering my hands to make sure I didn’t look hostile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
The dragon yawned and stretched. “Did you win?”
I blinked. “Win?”
“Against the invisible people you were fighting.” She tilted her head to the side.
I stared at her for a minute, then laughed. “I think so. It’s hard to tell, since they’re invisible.”
She nodded sagely at me. “That’s the worst.” The dragon yawned again, then reached down to her stomach. “I’m hungry.”
Judging that she didn’t seem to feel threatened, I wiped my forehead, then approached. “I have a few little things in my bag, but I don’t know what you eat.”
“Cows, mostly. Sometimes sheep, but I like cows better. Do you have any cows?”
I looked at her quizzically. “No?”
“Shame. Guess I’m stuck with human food, then.” She chuckled. “Sorry, dragon humor. When I look like this,” she waved at her body, “I eat the same things people do.”
“And when you’re in your dragon form?”
“They’re both dragon forms, technically. But I guess you call my big form a ‘dragon form’ and my small form a ‘human form’ for convenience.”
She wrinkled her nose, looking like she found the idea distasteful. “Anyway, to answer your question, I eat the same things, just more of it. I spend most of my time in this form because it’s more energy efficient. And as much fun as it was when the local villagers used to sacrifice farm animals to me, I felt pretty guilty about it after a while.”
“I don’t think most people realize you can stay in that form.” I gestured at the pile of books nearby. “Or even that you can look like a human at all. Usually dragons in those books are only in that other form with the wings and such. Or one that’s more like a snake.”
She sighed. “Those are serpents, not dragons. We’re related, but not identical.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “What’s the difference?”
“There are several differences. The most obvious is body type. But in general, serpents are more magically inclined, and dragons are physically stronger. And then there are hydras, which are like dragons with multiple heads. They aren’t quite as strong as we are, but they rapidly regenerate when injured. Some people say they even grow two heads when you cut one head off.”
“That...sounds really strange. Is their brain not in their head? Or do they grow more brains? Do they get smarter when you cut off one of their heads?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Most people just try to stop them from regenerating using fire or acid. At least in my books.”
I noted that information for future use.
The dragon continued. “Anyway, I don’t know much about other dragons, but unless I wanted to be hunting for food all the time, it’s easier to stay in this smaller form. I only switch to my big form when I need to fight. And even then, I try to avoid it. It’s exhausting.”
That made sense. If her other form was several times more massive, it made sense that it would require several times more food to stay that way.
“Some books get it closer to right.” She stood up and walked over to the stack of books, finding a small section that seemed more neatly organized than the rest. She lifted a book and carried it to me. “This is my absolute favorite series. The dragon in there isn’t perfect, but the writer is pretty good. For a human, of course.”
I took the book, looking at the title. “Dragon’s Damsel 2: Damsel’s Dreams.”
Aaaaand it’s another romance novel. Because of course it is.
I feigned interest, turning the book over in my hands. It was well-weathered, showing clear signs of the love she’d professed for it.
“So, that’s the second one, and it’s my favorite. It’s where they really start to show the relationship blossoming, and it has the best fight scenes.”
I perked up at that last part. “Fight scenes?”
“Oh, yeah! There’s this one where the knight and the dragon—” She paused, looking at the book, frowning, and looking me up and down. “Why aren’t you wearing any armor?”
I sighed. I didn’t need another person complaining about my failure to protect myself. “I use magic to protect myself instead. Armor slows me down too much.”
“That seems a little strange, for a knight...” She frowned, shaking her head. “But I guess I’ve heard about a few knights who can use magic. And you did seem strangely tough, for a human.”
I wasn’t actually sure I was human, but it didn’t seem like the right time to point that out. I honestly didn’t know for certain at the time, anyway. “Have you fought many other humans?”
“Not a lot,” she admitted. “And most of the groups run away if I turn into my bigger form.”
“Groups?”
“Oh, yeah. I was surprised you came through by yourself. Usually it’s a full group of six people. I always get excited, but...” She sighed. “They usually don’t last very long. You’re the first one who has had a way to deal with my spirit form.”
I nodded at that. “You’re a formidable opponent.”
She beamed at me. “Thanks! We should fight again sometime. But first, books.” She paused. “Wait, hold on. There’s some...um, adult content in this one? Are you old enough to be reading this sort of thing?”
I laughed outright at that. “I’m in my twenties. And yes, for a human, that’s an adult.”
She gave me a slow nod. “Yeah, I’m around that age, too. Probably. Hard to keep track of time in here. What’s your name?”
I almost gave her the wrong answer to that, purely out of habit. “You can call me Keras Selyrian. It’s not my birth name, but it’s the one I’m using right now.”
“Ooh, you have to hide your birth name?” She sounded excited about that. Given her books, she probably thought I was secretly a prince or something. “Keras is a strange name. I preferred calling you ‘human’.” She peered at me even more closely. “And are you sure you’re an adult? I saw you playing a game with imaginary people earlier.”
I couldn’t quite tell if she was being serious with that last part, so I didn’t laugh again, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “I wasn’t playing a game. I was exercising.”
She raised an eyebrow dubiously.
I folded my arms. “I was. I practice combat exercises every morning to build muscle and essence. And, for what it’s worth, plenty of adults still play games.”
She crossed her arms right back at me. “Not with imaginary friends.”
I sighed. “Depends on the human. Anyway, what about you? What’s your name?”
She uncrossed her arms, sticking out a hand. “I’m Reika.”
I wasn’t sure what the local handshakes were like, so I reached for her wrist rather than her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Reika.”
Reika adjusted to grab my hand and shook it a little too literally. Continuously. I eventual
ly let go.
“So,” she beamed, “You said adult humans still play games?”
I blinked and nodded. “Sure? Lots of them.”
“Teach me one of them?”
I pondered that, handing her book back to her while I considered. We didn’t have enough room for most outdoor games. We didn’t have a ball, and honestly, I’d always found most ball games pretty boring. There were all sorts of combat exercises that could be called “games”, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to get into those with a dragon without a better idea of how much she could hold back her strength first.
There were plenty of social games that just required dialogue. “The Question Game” and such. That was a potentially useful way to learn more about her, but she seemed to be intensely physical, and I figured she’d enjoy something with more of a physical component to it.
I settled on teaching her a board game. “Have you ever heard of Crowns?”
“Oh! I think that’s in the Tarren’s Trials books. People even compete in tournaments.” Reika frowned. “But they never put enough in the books for me to actually learn the rules. They talk about ‘pieces’ like knights and stuff, but they never explain what they do. They just talk about how brilliant people’s strategies are, as if I’ll believe that without seeing how they play. It’s terrible writing.” She sounded especially grumpy about that last part.
“Do you have any blank paper?” I asked.
Reika shook her head. “Nope. Just got the books.”
“Well, we could take a book you don’t like and—”
She gave me a lethal glare.
I raised my hands in a defensive gesture. “Okay, or not that. Uh, we could gather some sticks or vines and make a large grid on the floor? I can teach you the rules while we do it.”
I could have made a grid permanently by stone shaping her floor, but I wasn’t sure if she’d want it there forever. And I still wasn’t comfortable taxing my strength significantly when Reika could change her mind and decide she wanted a fight at any time.
Besides, I needed some fresh air, anyway.
We retraced the path I’d taken to get to her part of the cave. No monsters assaulted us, which I later learned was because they knew to avoid Reika. Apparently, they could tell she was a more dangerous predator than anything else nearby.
Once we got out into the forest, we gathered a number of large sticks, and I went over the basics of the game with her.
When we got back, we made the grid. After some discussion, we opted to use books in place of game pieces, with the title representing the piece.
It was surprisingly fun just hunting down books that contained the names of Crowns pieces in their titles. Unfortunately, while she did have several books with names like knight, pawn, and princess in their titles, she didn’t have ones that corresponded to all of them.
She seemed so dejected when she realized that we couldn’t finish our board properly that I decided to take a small risk to allow the game to continue.
I picked up a rock, concentrated, and reshaped it into a sorcerer piece. Then I handed it to her. “Put that in the third square on the left.”
Reika lifted the piece, examining it closely. “This is incredible. How’d you do that?”
“It’s just stone shaping, one of the types of magic I use. You’ve seen me do it before.”
“Yeah, but not for making things like this.” She turned the sorcerer piece over in her hands. “It’s so detailed!”
“There’s a standard look for most of the Crowns pieces, so I knew it well enough to copy one. It wasn’t a big deal.” I didn’t know why, but I was feeling just a little embarrassed.
“I love it, though. Can I keep it when we’re done?”
I hadn’t thought of it as being a worthwhile gift. It had taken me moments to make out of a simple rock. But it obviously made her happy, far more than I’d expected. “Sure. It’s yours now.”
She threw her arms around me in a hug. “You’re the best, Keras!”
“I...thanks.” I was no stranger to affection, but I was still getting used to her degree of enthusiasm. “I’ll make some more pieces, then we can play.”
Reika watched me quietly, but intently. She seemed fascinated by the stone shaping process, her eyes following my hand as I traced lines and removed pieces of liquefied stone.
When I was finished, I felt more tired than I’d expected. The pieces were small, but doing detailed work was more draining than just shifting stone from place to place. The work was worth it, though. We finally had a Crowns board, even if it wasn’t quite a standard one.
It took some getting used to at first, and I had to stop and eat almost immediately because I’d fatigued myself so much.
But after we got used to it, playing with Reika was a lot of fun. She didn’t know any of the standard openings, but she had a dynamism and enthusiasm to her play that I found contagious.
We played into the evening, then played some more.
It was deep in the night that she finally curled up and fell asleep next to the Crowns board.
I pulled a blanket from over the pile, enjoying the smile that played over her face when I draped it over her, and eventually found my own way to sleep.
***
I prepared to leave the next morning. “Looks like you’re mostly healed.”
Reika rubbed her face, where the wound was swiftly fading. “It...still feels a bit sore.”
“It will for a while. I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t apologizing about the wound again, and I could tell she knew that.
“You’re sure you have to go today?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Some of my friends were supposed to be sent with me, but when I arrived, I couldn’t find them.”
“Teleported? Just where are you from, exactly?”
“The continent of Mythralis.”
Reika’s eyes widened. “That’s where the Tyrant in Gold is from! How’d you get here?”
I wasn’t sure how much I should say. “A powerful sorcerer teleported me.”
She frowned. “The barrier around Kaldwyn is supposed to block teleportation.”
“You’re familiar with spell keys, yes?”
“You think they had one to bypass the barrier? Possible, I suppose...but you really shouldn’t be here, then! If you’re from the tyrant’s lands, you’re...”
Reika stood up, folding her arms. “The tyrant is the greatest of all villains! You don’t work for him, do you?” She gasped. “Is he the god you were talking about working for?”
I was impressed she’d remembered what I’d said. I stood up as well, raising my hands in a defensive gesture. “I read about the tyrant in one of your books, but I’d never heard of him where I came from. I certainly don’t work for him.”
“How could you not know about the tyrant? He controls your entire continent!”
I winced. “You...might not want to take everything in those books at face value. Some of those stories are probably...made up?”
She glared at me. “I’m not a child. I know some of it is fictional. The tyrant is not ‘made up’. They are the enemy of all descendants of the goddess — myself included. Unless you think I’m fictional?”
“Obviously not. But the fact is, there’s no one referred to by that name where I come from. If anything, I suspect all that stuff about the tyrant is referring to Vaelien, the King of Thorns.”
“Vaelien...like from the Blackstone Assassin books?” The dragon turned and rushed over to the book pile, carefully extracting a volume from the middle of a stack. It read, Blackstone: Jacinth’s Judgment, Book 1.
I blinked, flipping it open and skimming through a few pages.
I ran a hand through her golden hair, inspecting the perfect curves of her body. Her beauty was second only to the danger she represented, and somehow, that only added to the appeal.
It was, as far as I could tell, another romance novel. It even had a picture of a shirtless guy who was probably supposed to be the Bla
ckstone Assassin on the cover, showing off his rippling muscles.
But more importantly?
The romantic leads — Jacinth and Aayara — were very much real.
And I wanted to vomit a little when I thought about them doing, uh, sexy stuff.
“It talks about Vaelien later in the book,” Reika explained.
“Hm.” The book was supposedly written from the perspective of the Blackstone Assassin, which was probably nonsense. The content looked fairly traditional to the stories I’d read about him and Aayara when I was a child...albeit in the format of a romantic comedy, rather than a historical text. “Without reading it directly, I can’t comment on the accuracy, but yes, the Vaelien in here is probably the same person I’m talking about. He’s considered the ‘father’ of Aayara and Jacinth, the first two of the vae’kes.”
“Father?” Reika gasped. “We have stories about people they call the Children of the Tyrant. You’re saying they call those ‘vae’kes’ where you come from?”
I nodded. “I think they’re one and the same, yes. But you need to keep in mind that this,” I closed the book, “is not a reliable historical account. Vaelien and Aayara are real, but Vaelien doesn’t control our entire continent, and certainly not the whole outside world like some of your books claim.”
“But that...doesn’t...” Reika frowned. “Maybe you just don’t realize how far the Tyrant’s influence spreads, because he’s so devious.”
I wasn’t going to win the argument. “Possible, I suppose. Anyway, I don’t work for him. My assignment is from one of the Tae’os Pantheon, who opposes him.”
“But all the other gods are dead, except for Selys. The Tyrant killed them.”
Hrm. How to phrase this?
Maybe I should be gentle about challenging her world view?
“No, that’s completely wrong.”
Nailed it.
Reika put her hands on her hips, giving me a skeptical look. “How would you know that?”
“I’ve met at least one of them.”
She furrowed her brow. “You’ve met a god?”
“Pretty sure. He was reasonably convincing.”
“I find that pretty hard to believe.”
I’d been pretty skeptical before I’d met him, so I could appreciate her stance. I’d found that a healthy degree of skepticism was pretty important when dealing with people who called themselves gods. “Regardless of whether you believe me or not, I’m definitely working against this Tyrant of yours. That’s why I need to see your goddess — I’m here to ask for her help.”