by Ian Rodgers
The trio, and more than a few others, shot me unimpressed and deadpan looks at my response, Alexandra Hart chief among them. I shrugged helplessly.
“Sorry! But that’s all I saw!”
“So! Do I have to slap anyone else on the wrist, or will you comply?” Joris demanded as he slowly descended back to the ground, his voice drawing all attention to him and the fact he had just punched a dragon. And won.
Slowly at first, men and zalos started to place their weapons on the ground. As more and more did it, often times at the urging of their commanders, the two armies eventually disarmed themselves.
Joris nodded, pleased with the results. “Thank you! Now, a representative of the Zalos Confederation will be joining us shortly to discuss terms of mutual surrender.”
A pause. “Any moment now.”
A minute. “Son of a sword, do I have to go and get her too? I swear, half of my job is being a freaking delivery man!”
Before Joris Cowl could continue his rant a deep, booming feminine voice I had heard only once before rumbled forth.
“No need to get your undergarments in a twist, little Dragon-Puncher. I’m here.”
Gasps rose up from both sides, though there was a distinct reverent tone from the scaled contingent as a gargantuan pink scaled dragon dove down out of the clouds towards the two stalled armies.
“Pomegranate?” I gasped.
“Pomegranate?” Hart demanded, looking at me in confusion.
(Pomegranate!) Rosa cheered as she did a little dance over my head. (I never thought I would be so happy to see a dragon in my life!)
“My lady Poranthia Worldflame, it is an honor,” Joris said, giving a stately bow to the majestic being as she swooped down and landed in front of him.
“Of course it is,” she said, though there was a cheeky tone in her voice as she spoke to the X-ranker. “I apologize that you had to discipline one of my more ‘headstrong’ colleges. Perhaps next time she will think before she attacks.”
One of the other dragons with the zalos let out a confused roar at her. The dragoness scoffed, the sound like cannon fire.
“Why should I not step in when my little ones are causing a mess?” she replied to the dragon, who quailed under her furious gaze.
“Can someone please explain what is going on?!” a man from the New Castellean army cried out, striding forth. He came unarmed, but he was such a large and burly man his fists were likely more than lethal enough. He wore a pale blue cape with the emblem of New Castella upon it -- three golden fish swimming in a triangle -- and had a pair of golden stars etched into his breastplate to show he was a general in rank.
“Of course. You see, the answer is quite simple. You lot were tricked into fighting each other thanks to the World Rebellion,” Joris explained matter-of-factly. Horrified muttering erupted from both sides at his announcement, which only grew louder when the pink dragoness nodded in agreement.
“Indeed. I inspected both places and concur with the X-ranker’s assessment. I could practically taste the Void in the area.”
“A religious procession headed by a Dragon Priest was the first to be attacked,” Joris revealed. “After that, the cult stole a piece of jewelry and planted it in the town of Ryegrid, which the World Rebellion then destroyed to make it look like the zalos had done this in revenge.”
“But what of the years of raiding and skirmishing?! What of the bloodshed?!” This time, it was a commander from the zalos’ side who stepped forth.
“Not our problem. Honestly, if both sides had bothered to actually open up dialog then a lot of the tension would never have come into existence,” Joris said coolly. “But this war is started on a lie perpetrated by the World Rebellion! So it shall end today, whether you like it or not!”
Pomegranate -- or I suppose Porenthia, as her name truly was -- let out a roar of agreement.
I sagged slightly as both armies grumbled but started to disband. Leaders from both sides sent out runners to report what had happened, before meeting in the middle with the diplomats Joris had brought. A treaty would be signed, soon. And then everything would be concluded. For now, at least.
“It’s all over. We made it,” I said. Hart nodded, as if she couldn’t believe it had all ended in such a manner.
“I-I think I need to lie down,” she muttered, before staggering off to her tent. I watched her leave, before facing the rest of the army.
“Why don’t you let the townsfolk know everything is under control? And then you can, I don’t know, go home? Or report to your superiors down there?”
A round of nods greeted my suggestion, and the soldiers dispersed. Many of them were just as stunned at the abrupt conclusion, but there were some who were grinning like loons, excited and happy and relieved that they had survived.
I watched them all leave, before glancing back down at Joris. He noticed me, and waved. I waved awkwardly back.
~Let’s go say hello, and thank him for a job well done,~ Tara suggested, and I nodded.
‘Sounds like a plan. Rosa, do you want to stay here?’ I asked, eyeing the pink dragoness that had curled up to watch the treaty signing.
(No, I can face my fears!) Rosa declared firmly, though Tara and I could detect a slight tremor of worry in the Carbuncle.
We said nothing, though, and I let her fly into one of my robes pockets so she could hide in there if she got scared. Then, I hopped off the wall and flew down towards the spot where history was being made.
Chapter 22: When life goes on
“There you are, Jellik. Glad to see you’ve survived this whole mess. Not that I was worried you wouldn’t,” Joris said as I abruptly appeared next to him, woozy from suddenly going from one place to another.
“Did you have to teleport me out of the sky while I was flying down here? It was very disconcerting,” I complained, wobbling on my ‘feet.’ As I had started to fly down to meet Joris, he had whisked me out of the sky and right to his side with a spell that had me feeling nauseous despite not possessing a stomach.
“I could have let you get shot down by arrows, spells, and dragon breath,” the X-ranker retorted, and I winced.
“Ah. Yeah. Forgot about that,” I said with an awkward chuckle. Rosa snickered at me, before letting out a cute ‘Eeep!’ of fear when Pomegranate (Porenthia) turned her attention my way.
“Hello, again, small illusion-wearing one.”
“Greetings, my lady,” I said politely, adding a little bow.
“You seem to have met already, but allow me to formally introduce you to each other. Jellik, this is Porenthia Worldflame, basically the dragon equivalent of a queen.”
“I keep the more hot-headed of my kind in line,” the pink scaled wonder said. “I am afraid I do not do the best job, though. Most dragons are content with being brutes, which often ends up with them hunted down and slain. I do so wish more of them would follow my or Sharderon’s example. Despite being young, he knows that to live amongst you smaller beings requires tact.”
“And Porenthia, this is Jellik, C-ranked adventurer who also happens to be the source of Nia prophecy,” Joris finished. I wondered who this ‘Sharderon’ was. From the sounds of it, he was a dragon who was living amongst the humans. Somehow.
“Still trying to work my head around the fact I’m supposed to help save the world,” I grumbled. Both of them laughed at me, before growing somber.
“Somehow, I am not surprised,” the pink dragoness mused. “You reek of prophecy and salvation, much as my old friend Ar-Varia did.”
“I can’t help but wonder what either of those things would smell like,” I said with a shake of my head, when a name she’d mentioned made me pause. “Wait, what did you say?”
I looked into the vast and deep pools of wine that were the dragoness’ eyes in surprise, and I could see the draconic equivalent of a smirk upon her scaly lips.
“You knew the founder of Varia, and my owner’s ancestor?” I asked in surprise.
“Certainly. Not jus
t any dragon can earn the name ‘Worldflame.’ One must save the world at least once. And I did. Three thousand years ago, I fought alongside Ar-Varia, the Victorious Prince of Val’Narash, during the Great Calamity. With a handful of others, we ventured deep into the broken remains of that tainted continent, battling the Void every step,” the ancient dragon said with a fond sigh of remembrance.
“What was it like, facing the embodiment of Nothingness?” I asked softly, and she turned sympathetic eyes upon me.
“Worse than anything you can imagine. Terror beyond comprehension. Pain surpassing thought. Yet, I still recall my companions as we fought to save Erafore,” Pomegranate said softly. “You, too, have such a sad fate ahead of you. But fear not; when the day comes that the World Rebellion unleashes their evil once more, I and so many others will stand with you.”
“So, why were you really watching Green Stump all those weeks ago?” I asked after digesting her words.
“My reasons were as I told you. I was curious about humanity and the civilization my friends built upon the other continents,” Pomegranate replied.
“And the name?”
“One of the little dears that found me watching the village had the most adorable lisp, and could not pronounce my name. So, I let them call me ‘Pomegranate.’ It helped them lessen their fear of me. After all, how can fruit be scary?”
“You’d be surprised,” Joris muttered from the side. “I once encountered a possessed apple tree, and all the fruits on its branches looked like withered heads that screamed as you approached. I burned that thing down with extreme prejudice.”
“Right. Well then, I came here because I wanted to thank you for helping me, Joris,” I said wholeheartedly, bowing to the X-ranker.
“It’s fine. I would have found a way to involve people who could end this mess one way or another, so I am glad you helped the way you did,” the adventurer said dismissively. He then snapped his fingers as something clicked in his head.
“That reminds me! King Tiberius wanted me to pass on his own thanks, as did King Eric. The both of them knew a war with Drakon would be costly in more ways than one, so they’re quite happy you stepped in. Also, a certain princess is rather eager to see you again.”
“Princess Liliana? You met her?” I inquired, surprised.
“Sure did. Nice gal. Has both her mother’s looks and smarts. I remember when the queen was the still the daughter of a duke, and blowing up buildings at the Academy,” Joris said wistfully. I recalled that despite looking young, Joris was actually an old the man who’d been around since my owner’s mother had been in her school years.
“By the way, Sir Joris,” I began nervously, and the man sighed heavily.
“Whenever someone adds ‘sir’ to my name they want to ask a favor. What is it?” he asked.
“Can you take me back to Varia with you when the peace treaty is finalized?” I asked hopefully. “I really want to see them all before I start my next leg of the journey.”
“This is what I get for specializing in Dimensional magic. Everyone and their donkey treats me like a good-looking, teleporting wagon,” the mage sighed, before nodding in regards to my request.
“Yeah, sure, I can do that. Might be a few days, though.”
“That’s fine. I need to rest, and I’d like to do that among friends. You can find me in Haven when you’re ready to take me home,” I said. I then turned to Pomegranate. “You’re welcome to drop by the town as well. It won’t cause too much of a commotion. Hopefully.”
“I may take you up on that offer. Assuming I don’t have to beat some sense into too many of my kin,” she said, sending a glare towards the two dragons who were standing around the crater their unconscious companion had made.
“I wish you the best of luck in that regard,” I said, not envying her job at all. I tipped my hat to them before flying off, Rosa letting out a cry of joy as she rode in my pocket into the sky.
.
“You look awful. Care for a drink?” A smooth feminine voice cooed as a bedraggled figure in a black robe and cracked silver mask slid into a bench across from the speaker.
The building he had snuck into was a bathhouse. But one that existed at a crossroads of dimensions, and accepted very strange clientele. The Whirlpool was a place that let a customer bath in whatever liquid they so desired. Water taken from the purest of springs, milk from angelic blooded bovines, and even the blood of virgins. Nothing was unavailable for those who paid.
The woman the robed intruder was speaking to was currently submerged in a marble bathtub the size of a bedroom, while a red silk veil encircled it, hiding her from his gaze.
“Enough pleasantries. I don’t have much time here,” the man whose mask bore the image of a six branched and rooted tree snarled.
“Touchy. What’s got your robe in a twist?”
“I’m currently trapped in the Aether and forced to dodge all manner of beings who can sense my taint and wish me dead for it. Apologies for not bowing and scraping, oh refined mistress,” Root hissed. “I had to flee through three different Elemental Planes and eleven Lesser Realities before I threw off their tail to make it here.”
“Not that I’m not flattered you came to me first, instead of one of my brothers, but why?” the unseen woman demanded.
“Partly because the matron of the Whirlpool will keep the worst of the overly zealous pursuers off my back for a moment, letting me take a break before I flee once more,” Root confided. “And the second reason is because we have a mission for you.”
“Who is ‘we?’” she demanded.
“The Hierophant and the brains of your family,” Root revealed. “They have something for you to do.”
“Huh. Been a while since either of them wanted anything to do with me. Very well. What is it?” she asked, a hint of surprise cracking the bored façade tone she’d been using.
“Soon, one of the three Chosen Ones of Erafore will be entering the Aether. Find him, and detain him. Turn him from his desire to save his world.”
“How?”
“Seduce him or kill him, we care not,” Root snapped. “Just see to it he never returns to ruin our plans with Erafore!”
“Don’t take that tone with me…!”
“Out of all your siblings, you are the one who has shown the least support towards our final goal. Too much of your father in you,” Root interrupted her. Killing intent erupted from behind the curtain and a sloshing sound filled the air as the red, syrupy contents of the bathtub were agitated, filling the air with a coppery tang. The masked cultist endured it without so much as a flinch.
“Do this mission and prove your worth and loyalty to Zard of the Void, or be treated as your youngest brother was; a traitor to be disposed of. This is one of the last chances you have. Do not fail us like your sibling did, or there will be one less member of your family around,” Root declared calmly, and the power that had filled the room vanished as if it had never been, only to be replaced with a silent terror.
“Let the world rebel,” Root intoned when no response came his way. “For when it does, only then can the Void take its place.”
“…For the glory of Zard,” the unseen woman uttered, defeated.
“And for the sake of a world without sin,” Root replied, a satisfied smirk clear in his words.
He stood and left the room like a bad dream, leaving the bathing woman to her own troubled thoughts.
She sighed, and then rang a bell on a nearby table.
“Can you refill my tub? I’m afraid I splashed around too much just now,” she requested of the bipedal crustacean in a butler’s uniform that answered her call. It nodded and scuttled out, and the woman sighed to herself.
“Would have helped if you’d told me who I was supposed to go after…”
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