by Nick McNeil
“Humans haven’t had a sense of community in hundreds of years. We have been cast out by the elves, dwarves, and giants since Cordelia left. You’ve given people a reason to come together again. You’ve given them hope.”
“Hope for what?” Bertly prodded.
“To be acknowledged again by the rest of the world. Our people felt like nothing,” Edfrid explained.
“Why, because you don’t have magic?” Devdan interrupted. “That seems petty.”
Bertly glared at Devdan. “That’s easy to say when you’re an elf. Your people have commanded this world with magic since before Cordelia.”
“Settle down, now. I don’t think he meant to offend.” Edfrid placed his hand on Bertly’s shoulder. “We are almost at my favorite part of the city.” The group wandered farther until their pathway was obstructed by a large stone statue.
Towering higher than any building in town was a sculpture of Bertly holding Cordelia’s warblade and shield. Statue Bertly wore a crown and a dragon-scale cape. “We didn’t know you had her warblade when we built this. You don’t also happen to have her shield and cape on hand, do ya?” Edfrid slapped Bertly on the back and laughed.
Clia circled above while Bertly stood captivated by the statue. Every inch of the delicately carved sculpture brought goose bumps to his body. Around the figure was a circular pathway that allowed people to view it from all angles. On the outskirts of the pathway were taverns and saloons. The people inside seemed to be fancier dressed than the average commoner Bertly had passed on his walk over.
Edfrid wrapped his arm around Bertly. “I know you always said when you were younger, ‘One day, Dadai, they will build statues of me, and all of Pangea will know who we are.’”
A tear formed in the corner of Bertly’s eye.
“Where is my statue?” Polly shouted. “I have red eyes, too.”
Edfrid faced Polly. “While human, you weren’t born in Stonebank, Polly.” He shrugged. “Since you moved here when you were young, some folk don’t consider you a true native of Stonebank.”
Polly’s face went dull and she broke eye contact with Edfrid.
“Cheer up. Not many people get referred to as a child of Cordelia.”
“That’s true, sir.” Polly gave him a half smile. “It is a title I will wear with pride.”
Edfrid turned toward Bertly, who was still captivated by the statue. “Tell me, son, what brings you to Stonebank?” He rubbed his beard. “Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier to see you, but I wasn’t expecting you for another two years, when you embarked on your spirit quest.”
“Well, that is actually why we are here.” Bertly’s mouth curved into a smile and he puffed out his cloak. “Polly and I were fast-tracked our first year at the Academy.”
“Sweet Cordelia, why am I not surprised?” Edfrid smiled and shook his head. “Come, the castle is just up these steps.”
Edfrid and the guards led them through the multistoried city. There were balconies on every floor, where people could easily weave in and out of each establishment. The conversations rang with positive tones, and Bertly had yet to see even one upset or grumpy citizen. As the group rounded the corner toward the steps, people were waiting for them with lavender flowers in their hands. When they noticed Bertly turn the corner, they cheered and placed their lavender on the road and steps.
“Winter Wizard!” the city chanted. Bertly pulled his cloak to the side so people could see Cordelia’s warblade mounted on his hip. He walked with his chin up and chest out.
“You seem to have adjusted to your newfound fame quite fast,” Edfrid said with a chuckle. He gestured for Bertly to look up.
At the top of the wide staircase was a palace built into the side of the mountain. A large indentation had been carved out of the mountain, and a box-shaped white castle nestled inside. Four flat towers filled the missing space of mountain. Each tower was connected by massive walls that were more than half the height of the citadel. In between the four towers, at the center of the castle, was an archway large enough for a mammoth to walk through.
“No gate or door?” Bertly questioned. “Seems a bit risky.”
“Aye, but no one can enter Stonebank if we don’t let them in.” Edfrid crossed his arms across his chest. “Unless they fly in on an ancient, mystical creature, of course.” Edfrid led Bertly and company up the stairs toward the castle entrance. “The mountains are too steep to climb, and not many folk have means of flying. On top of that, we are in the center of the city. If an enemy ever gets this far, the city is already lost.” Edfrid lifted his shoulders in a half shrug and gave a petty smile. The group reached the top of the steps and stood in the entrance of Bertly’s father’s castle. Edfrid extended his arm toward the interior of the castle. “Here we are. They just finished her a couple of months ago.”
Clia descended and landed on the steps just behind the group. Bertly turned. “Clia, you stay here unless you hear me call for you.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Only if I call for you. Understand?”
Clia grunted and flopped across the steps, her head drooping slightly downward.
“Good girl.”
Bertly walked through the archway and marveled at the interior of the castle. A light blue rug divided the snow-colored room. Long banners with pictures of every warden of Stonebank were stitched with elegancy and fine detail. In between each banner hung ice-crafted lanterns that illuminated the entire throne hall. The way the light reflected off the lamps caused the room to sparkle. Following just behind Bertly were his companions, as well as the city guards.
Roderick tapped Bertly on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir.”
Bertly didn’t turn toward Roderick—he continued to examine the intricacy of the ceiling. “Yes, Roderick?” He couldn’t look away from the fine craftsmanship of the ice-carved crown molding around the perimeter of the hall.
“Why doesn’t the ice melt around the lanterns?” Roderick asked.
“Mammoth ice,” Edfrid offered. “It took me over ninety nights in the mountains to find a pack of those horned fur balls.”
“It’s never cold, yet it can hardly be melted. They say even a dragon bellowing fire can barely melt mammoth ice,” Polly added.
“Incredible,” Roderick said.
Devdan nodded. “Indeed.”
Bertly strolled to the throne displayed at the back of the main hall. “That is made of mammoth ice, too!” his father yelled across the hall. Bertly reached out and ran his hand across the transparent throne. The chair was covered in divine engravings. Fixed on the backrest was Noskar’s emblem, a drizzle bird carrying Cordelia’s warblade in its talons.
“Check the back side. It has Noskar’s new unofficial animal on it,” Edfrid directed.
Bertly rounded the chair, only to see that carved on the entire back of the throne was a spectacular mammoth. Bertly felt something brush against him. He peered down, and at his feet was a small furry creature with a fluffy tail and whiskers nuzzling against his leg. Bertly yelped. The fuzzy animal looked up at him with its oversized eyes and big pupils and meowed.
Bertly rounded the chair with the little animal in his arms. “So the official animal of Noskar is a koko.” Bertly’s friends tried their best to hold back smiles.
“Oh, don’t mind Oats. That little koko comes and goes as he pleases,” Edfrid replied.
“You’ve given it a name?” Bertly’s nose crinkled as he gave a half smile. “And you chose ‘Oats’?”
Edfrid’s jaw dropped and his eyebrows snapped together. “I found him in the kitchen playing with the oats and brown bread. He likes oats.” Edfrid stomped to the throne and snagged Oats. The koko was able to rest its whole body inside Edfrid’s enormous hand. “Leave me and Oats alone.” Edfrid nuzzled the koko against his face and then placed him on the ground. Oats scurried off and ran down a hallway toward another wing of the castle. Edfrid plopped onto his mammoth-ice throne and threw one leg over the armr
est. “So, what do we have planned for this spirit quest?”
“We?”
“Yes, we. Why else would you come and see your old man? You need my help.”
Bertly broke eye contact with his father and inspected his fingernails. “Well, we were sort of hoping you could watch the gryphon for us.”
Edfrid took his leg off the armrest and sat up straight. “You want me to babysit?”
“You will love it. You like your koko.” Bertly shrugged and laughed nervously. “Clia is basically the same…just slightly bigger.” As soon as Clia heard her name, she came sliding through the castle hall, tearing up the finely woven, light blue rug. She galloped across the hall and did a jump stop right in front of Bertly. Bertly turned to his father, scratched the back of his head, and gave a nervous laugh.
“I assume you don’t have the gold to replace that.”
The color drained from Bertly’s face.
Edfrid surveyed the rest of the group, but no one responded. “Great, that settles it. I’m coming with you, and in exchange, I will look past the rug.” Edfrid leaped out of his chair. “Besides, you will need me to navigate through the mountains. Where are you trying to get to, anyhow?”
Bertly put his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat while puffing out his chest. “The Dragon’s Crypt.” He smirked.
Edfrid’s eyes widened, but he quickly snapped back to focus and regained his composure. He gave a dismissive wave. “I can get all of you to the Dragon’s Crypt in less than two nights.”
Roderick shrieked. “Dragon’s Crypt.” His breaths started to quicken. “I thought you said it was just a cave, sir?”
“Oh, Roderick.” Bertly strode toward Roderick and placed his hand on his shoulder. Bertly’s eyes were sparkling. “It is a cave…a cave to which many dragons and humans have famously laid waste.”
Roderick’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed onto the floor.
“Oh heavens,” Polly shouted. She rushed over to Roderick and placed his head in her lap while shooting Bertly an annoyed glare. Bertly stood over them with his arms crossed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to leave him behind with the gryphon?” Edfrid cracked.
Bertly shook his head. “I wish it were an option.”
Edfrid walked over toward Roderick and Polly. He grabbed Roderick by the jaw and turned his head side to side, inspecting him. Edfrid bent over and picked him up as though he were a rag doll. He threw Roderick over his shoulder and walked toward the castle entrance. “Follow me. I will take you to the stables so you can board your gryphon. There is still plenty of daylight left.” Edfrid turned his head back toward the group. “We can leave at midday.”
***
The students followed Edfrid out the entrance of the castle and to the courtyard at the bottom of the steps. Clia followed close behind, walking on her tiptoes and slowing her pace every time she walked past something breakable. Once she reached the courtyard, she lifted into the air and tailed them from above. Bertly followed his father through the crowded streets, watching Roderick bounce up and down on Edfrid’s shoulder with each step he took. Masses of people gathered around to admire Bertly and Polly. Bertly found the entire situation rather bizarre: if it were not for the royal guards clearing the pathway, they would’ve never been able to navigate the streets.
To the east side of Stonebank was a massive open field. The southern and eastern areas were the only undeveloped land in Stonebank. In the middle of the field was a colossal steel barn. It was large enough to be mistaken for a small castle.
Edfrid led the pack toward the gigantic steel structure. “The people agreed to raise taxes to build this stable,” Edfrid said. “The belief is that one day, Bertly, you will come riding home on Cordelia’s dragon, and when you do, they want him to be able to live here, in Stonebank.”
“That explains why there is no fence around these stables,” Devdan said.
“Aye,” Edfrid replied. “Given that it was meant for a dragon, I suppose it should suffice for your gryphon.” Edfrid looked back and gave Clia a once-over. “Not that she seems much smaller.” With Roderick hunched over his shoulder, Edfrid kicked open the barn doors. “Welcome to your humble abode, feather dragon.” Troughs of fresh water lined the side of the barn, and several haystacks were sprawled throughout. A huge tank filled with live fish covered the opposing wall. In the back was an enormous pit of boiling water. Clia walked slowly into the center of the room, gazing at her temporary home. “We even built it on top of a natural hot spring. Maybe gryphons like the hot water as much as dragons.” Edfrid shrugged. Clia started skipping around the room, running through every stack of hay.
Roderick started to shift around on Edfrid’s shoulder. “You’re up,” Edfrid bellowed as he dropped Roderick from his shoulder onto the floor. Roderick let out a big grunt and rolled onto his back.
Bertly blew his whistle and Clia came to a screeching halt. She glared directly at him. “We have to go now, girl. I won’t be back for a few days,” Bertly explained. “Will you be okay without me?” Clia tilted her head; she studied Bertly for a moment and then dashed off and jumped into the hot spring.
Edfrid slapped Bertly on the back. “I think the gryphon has left the nest.”
Bertly shook his head and threw his arms in the air. “No kidding.”
Edfrid adjusted his coat and cleared his throat. “Well, no reason to stand around.” Edfrid marched toward the exit of the barn.
Bertly overheard Roderick talking to Devdan. “Why is he in such a rush? He doesn’t even know we are on a deadline.”
“He probably misses his son,” Devdan whispered back. “It’s been years since they’ve seen each other.”
Outside the barn, several royal guards were lined up, double the amount that had escorted them there. The guards approached Bertly and the rest of the group and extended to them daggers, swords, shields and light armor. Edfrid clapped his hands. “Suit up, everyone.”
“Sir, why do we need so many weapons?” Roderick screamed.
Bertly, Edfrid, and Polly burst into laughter. Bertly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Are you serious?”
Roderick had a blank look on his face.
“My young apprentice. Only a madman would go into the mountains unarmed.”
“I’m pretty sure even a madman would know better.” Polly chuckled.
The group suited up and chose their favorite weapons among their diverse options. Polly put on every layer of armor available; however, she chose no weapon. Roderick took a small sword, and Devdan chose two daggers, one for each hand. The elf did a double take at the display of weapons and snatched a long sword as well. Edfrid put on a metal chest plate and grabbed his war hammer. Bertly took a shield but did not equip any armor because he was not going to risk losing any of his speed or mobility.
“Are you ready, son?” Edfrid asked.
Bertly looked back toward his group; they all nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Edfrid marched forward toward Stonebank’s southern and only entrance. The royal soldiers began following behind. Edfrid turned to face them. “Stop!” he shouted. “No guards. I will be back in three nights.”
A soldier with a uniquely marked shield stepped forward. “Sir, we can’t leave you unprotected.”
Edfrid threw his hammer over his shoulder and glared at his group of soldiers. “I don’t mean to be blunt…but I could squash every last one of you.”
The guards looked at each other, each one’s face filled with indecision.
“I need you to clear traffic, not to keep me protected. You will stay here, and that’s an order. I will be back in three nights.” Edfrid turned back around and headed for the entrance. “I forgot to ask you, Bertly.” Edfrid adjusted the strap on his chest plate. “What bolt went loose in your head that is driving you to the Dragon’s Crypt?”
“Well…” Bertly nibbled on his bottom lip. “We want to steal a scale fro
m Cordelia’s dragon.”
The mumbling amongst the soldiers stopped.
Edfrid scoffed and crossed his arms. “What makes you think her dragon is still alive?”
“Cordelia wasn’t with her dragon when she left. Therefore, we don’t know for certain that he is gone.” Bertly threw his shield over his back and cracked his knuckles. “Cordelia’s dragon has always lived there. If he was residing anywhere, it would be there.”
“Why has no one explored Dragon’s Crypt if such a legendary creature lives there?” Devdan questioned.
“Oh, many have. The issue is none have returned to tell the tale.” Bertly grabbed a few strands of his hair and began braiding it. “None except for the Stonebank wardens.”
Edfrid gave a loud battle cry and banged his hammer against his metal chest plate.
Devdan smiled. “I presume you’re a warden, Edfrid?”
“Our family have been wardens since before we settled in Stonebank,” Edfrid replied.
Roderick glanced at Bertly. “Does that make you a warden, sir?”
Bertly scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth to answer; however, no words came out. He glanced toward his father.
Edfrid gave a half smile and nodded his head.
Bertly looked back at Roderick. “Technically…no.” Bertly rubbed his chin.
“Why not, sir?” Roderick probed.
“It takes a special ceremony…the type that can make a man a bit anxious.” Bertly laughed nervously.
“Just spit it out, son,” Edfrid exclaimed.
“You see, not just anyone can become a warden. Our family line possesses something special that allows us to become wardens.” Bertly stood up fully and checked his hair, which Polly had finished braiding. He nodded toward Polly as a sign of thanks. “For most creatures, mammoth blood is highly poisonous. It can make a horse drop in a flash.” Bertly snapped his fingers. “It’s a great defense mechanism—a predator takes a big bite out of your leg, gets a little blood in its mouth, rolls over.”
Polly nudged Bertly softly in the side.