Chapter 9

Krarshe stood face to face with his foe: a large grey wolf. The beast snarled and gnashed its teeth as it stared him down, unwavering. Krarshe looked to his right. Another grey wolf slowly circled him; on his left, a third wolf.

This is what makes pack hunters so tricky... He smiled. Too bad your opponent is me. The air became charged with energy as he held up his hands. He felt his mana begin to flow, just as it had dozens of times before. Bolts of lightning burst from his palms and struck the wolves. With a yelp, they all fell to the ground and lay there, motionless.

"Once again, triumph," Krarshe said with a dull sigh. Facing off against beasts could hardly be considered exciting. Not like the heart-racing thrill the howler gave him almost a full cycle ago.

"You can say that when you've completed the quest," Taliarrah said. She approached one of the wolves, drawing her dagger. She plunged it into the unconscious wolf. "The request was to cull them, not render them unconscious."

"I just don't feel comfortable taking their lives. What did they do to deserve death?"

She walked over to the next wolf and repeated the action, driving the dagger deep into the back of the animal's skull. "It's just an unfortunate part of the world, Krarshe. If we left them alone, they'd attack people who travelled through here." She stopped at the third wolf and turned to him. "Would you be fine with this wolf killing innocent travellers?"

"... Well, no... but-"

"Then we have no choice but to take action first. Their numbers have gotten too large in this area, and their actions are growing bolder as their pack grows." She finished off the third wolf. "Trust me, I don't like doing this either, but it's part of life."

Krarshe looked over toward Lycia. She was standing over the charred corpse of another wolf. Even from here, the stench was awful. In a rather short time, Lycia had gotten awfully comfortable with these quests and collecting the quest proofs, more than he had. "I guess I understand..."

"Good. Also, stop using lightning so often."

"What?"

"You rely too much on it. I feel I've seen you barely cast anything else this past cycle. It's like you're one of those accursed storm elementals."

"But I'm-"

"I know you're gifted with it. I know you like showing off that you can cast it without any incantation at all. But, you're getting arrogant."

Krarshe shifted uneasily. He had gotten very good at lightning spells, so much so that even complicated ones he could cast without speaking any incantation. It was so much easier than traditional spellcasting, or even short casting. It was hard not to use it frequently. Or, rather, exclusively.

"Arrogance will eventually get you in trouble. I've seen many cavalier adventurers die foolish, avoidable deaths because they didn't respect their opponent or situation. Too many. So break that habit of yours now rather than when you find yourself in such a situation."

"Yes, master..."

"Being scolded again?"

"When am I not? Your mother can be a tyrant."

"Only toward you," Lycia said, her words being transmitted directly to Krarshe's mind through the yaraada spell.

"Well, only one of you has been repeatedly out of line, though the other is toeing that line right now..." Taliarrah interjected.

Both Krarshe and Lycia jumped, realizing she'd been intercepting the spell. They quickly stopped and carried on collecting ears from the wolves, as evidence of request completion.

"Mo- Ahem. Mother? How long are we going to be doing these?"

"Doing what?"

"These apprentice-level quests, I mean."

"Do you find my choice of quest unsatisfactory?"

Lycia hesitated. She quickly turned back to collecting their proofs. "No... It's just..."

"They feel almost trivial now," Krarshe said.

"Trivial, huh?"

"I agree with Ka- Kr-arshe," Lycia added.

Krarshe smiled. Not long ago, she'd finally taken notice of her mispronunciation of his name and taken it upon herself to correct it. Why it made him so happy, he wasn't sure. Regardless of the reason, he couldn't help but smile any time she said his name.

Taliarrah sighed. "Ambition of youth, as they say. I guess you are both progressing quicker than I expected..." She shook her head and shrugged. "Very well then. I was going to wait a bit longer before we visited there, but I guess we can do it now. Let's go inform the guild that we've completed the request and then we can head out."

"Head out?" they both said in unison.

"You said you wanted harder quests, right? Well, there's only one place experienced adventurers go for such a thing, and it's not Remonnet."

"Then... where is it?" Krarshe asked.

Taliarrah smiled bitterly as she glanced at Lycia. "You'll have to wait and see."

Krarshe and Lycia exchanged confused glances.

"I hate when she's being secretive," Krarshe said.

"I do too..."

"You'll both be left behind if you don't hurry up." Taliarrah said, already a good thirty paces ahead of them.

"When ISN'T she listening?!" Krarshe exclaimed.

He and Lycia rushed ahead to catch up, both red with embarrassment after being caught yet again.

* * *

Krarshe sat in the back of the covered wagon, resting his head on the knuckles of his closed hand. Every bump of the wagon caused him to almost bite his tongue, the one thrill he had on the several-day journey. He glanced at his fellow two passengers in the covered wagon. Lycia was practicing spells, as usual. She'd start it and then stop it as it began to manifest. How she didn't get tired of that was beyond Krarshe's comprehension. Taliarrah seemed to be sleeping sitting up. How can she sleep on this bumpy ride?

"Ma'am, we're nearing your destination," the driver called back.

Krarshe and Lycia immediately perked up. They still hadn't been told where they were going and the trip through the endless empty fields of Remonnet was dull. They immediately rushed up toward the front to catch a glimpse of where they were going. When they finally saw, they both held their breaths.

They were at the base of a large mountain, but that fact paled in comparison to what was around it.

Instead, what caught them agape was the great field of char and ash that lay before them. Flames periodically licked up from the ground while other spots burned consistently. This scar of blackened earth continued up the side of the nearby mountain, up to the base of a great stone fortification carved into the southern face. Its outer walls were blotched with black blemishes, and scattered sections of rubble and broken wall decorated the outer structure. On the turrets were great bow-like weapons Krarshe hadn't seen before, fixed to the structure and aimed skyward. The fortification towered over them, making him feel even smaller than he did at the gates of Remonnet.

"Welcome to the Ever-burning Fields of Dzue-Me'sun, or, now known as the city-state of Dragonsfall."

The one road leading up to the city cut through the ashen fields and had a constant stream of armed men and women coming and going through the fort's immense gate.

Are they all... adventurers? Krarshe guessed. Even at a glance, their swagger and poise gave it away; they always seemed so self-assured, bordering on arrogance.

"Well, Ma'am, this is as far as I can go," the driver said, stopping just outside the city gates.

The gates?

"I'm aware. Thank you for the ride. As for your payment..."

Krarshe got out of the back as Taliarrah handled the fee. He marvelled at the field. "How could something like this even happen?" After a moment, he noticed Lycia hadn't gotten out yet. "Lycia?"

She was still in the wagon, staring at the floor.

"Lycia, are you getting off?" he asked, more insistently this time.

"Huh?" she replied with a start. "Oh. Oh, y-yeah..."

Krarshe watched her nearly stumble. "Are... you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm f-fine."

She wobbled away to the front of the wagon, hanging onto the edge the whole time. Krarshe noted that her eyes never shifted from the ground immediately in front of her as she did. Does she not do well in wagons? She seemed fine until a moment ago.

"Come along, Krarshe. We're leaving," Taliarrah said.

Krarshe hurried to the front of the wagon and followed Taliarrah and Lycia up to the gate. They got in line with the others waiting to enter.

"When they ask for identification, just present your guild tag."

Krarshe and Lycia nodded.

"Master? Where is this, exactly?"

"I believe I answered that already, Krarshe."

"No, I mean... What is this place?"

"The city-state of Dragonsfall? I guess you could call it an adventurer hub city. It hosts the largest guild branch on the continent."

"I suppose that explains why we're here..."

"This is where you come when you're looking for a difficult quest, or, really, a high reward. It's not unusual to find requests with a need for haste either." She paused for a moment. "In short, this is where you find the experienced adventurers going."

"Makes sense..." Krarshe said, inspecting the others in line around them.

"It's also why a guild tag is sufficient for entry. You could say that the main export of Dragonsfall is adventurers. And mercenaries."

Krarshe stopped. "... Mercenaries?"

"The best around. At least on par with the orcs from the northlands."

His nose wrinkled in contempt at the thought. It didn't take long after leaving home to learn that mercenaries were little better than bandits while on the road. The idea of entering a city full of them was not appealing in the least. "Why mercenaries though?"

"What goods would you rather they specialize in? Ash?"

"I guess not..." Krarshe looked out at the burning fields. Then he noticed some of the disdainful looks he was getting from some rather gruff-looking individuals behind him. Uh oh. Better change subjects... "So, why the name?" Krarshe asked.

"Hmm? Dragonsfall?"

"Yes. And what happened out... there?" He gestured to the field of fire behind him.

"You'll see soon. And Lycia... Do your best."

The line moved quickly, unlike in Remonnet. A mere flash of one's guild tag was enough, which kept the line moving smoothly. Once inside the city walls, Krarshe understood why the wagon dropped them off outside. The streets were more like narrow dirt roads than the wide mercantile streets of Feyfaire, intended more for small groups of pedestrians than merchant caravans. In fact, there were no street merchants at all. One vendor-less dirt road led to another, a labyrinth of cold, grey masonry before they finally escaped into the heart of the city.

Krarshe saw Lycia look into the city center before quickly shrinking behind her mother. Looking where she had, his eyes grew wide and jaw fell open.

Before him was a huge dragon. Or, one of stone. The statue stood towering over many of the surrounding buildings. It depicted the great beast in combat with some human man, the gallant figure standing up to the snarling dragon with his spear and shield up. The minute details had been worn away by time, but there was no mistaking the bellicose scene.

"What... in all that's sagacious...?"

"I think this'll answer your questions, Krarshe," she answered. "It'll be okay, I'll let you know when we pass it," she added in hushed tones.

"Huh?" He turned to her. Lycia was clutching her mother's heavy fur cloak with a shaky hand, pressing her face into her back. Her breathing was irregularly fast. It was clear, between this and how she was getting off the wagon, that Lycia wasn't okay. Her mother continued muttering something quietly to her in a soft, calming voice. Krarshe grew concerned and confused but decided it best to not say anything.

Once past the plaza, they stopped outside the steps of a large building and moved off to the side of the entrance, out of the way of the stampede of people entering and exiting. Krarshe watched quietly as Taliarrah soothed and whispered to Lycia, holding her close in her arms as she did it. "It's okay" and "You did well" were the only phrases Krarshe could make out, repeated over and over.

After a couple of minutes, Lycia's shaking subsided. "Feeling better?" Taliarrah asked.

Lycia nodded. "I think so..." she whispered weakly.

"You did well. I'm proud of you," her mother said with one more squeeze. She released her daughter and turned to Krarshe. "I want you to keep an eye on her. It'll be easier for me to enter the guild alone. Can I trust you with that?"

Krarshe nodded.

"Good. I'll be right back." With that, Taliarrah disappeared into the stream of adventurers entering the guild hall.

Left alone, Krarshe sidled up next to Lycia. "H-hey... You okay?"

"P-please. D-don't look at me right now..." she murmured, turning away and pulling the hood of her cloak down more.

"R-right... Sorry..."

He moved away a step and surveyed the busy street. He kept watch for anyone unsavory, standing between Lycia and all the passersby, and did his best not to listen to the muted whimpering behind him.

* * *

Krarshe grunted as he tried to shove the additional supplies they bought that afternoon into his already full pack. How... does one... fit all this? "Ugh."

"You need to learn packing efficiency, Krarshe."

Even before he looked, he could tell by the sharp tongue who it was. Sure enough, he turned to see Taliarrah standing in the entrance to his room at the inn. Not even a knock... "Why do we even need all of this?"

"The quest is up in a remote mountain village. It might almost be Budding season, but you can't dismiss the possibility of snow where we're going. It'd be bad if we got caught in a late-season snowstorm without these supplies. There's more you need to survive than those couple potions I managed to find. Even if their cost would say otherwise..." She groaned and leaned against the wall next to his bag. "Really, though, you'd want a proper rucksack for a journey like this. Something a bit bigger, but what we have now will be fine. For the time being."

There was a brief, awkward silence.

"So... How's she doing?" Krarshe asked.

"Better than when we got here. Calm at least."

"What brought that on? Just the statue?"

"Well, that, and just frustration. I always tell her it's important to face your fears if you want to overcome them. It seems she's still struggling with it."

"... I'm not sure I understand."

"She's afraid of them. Dragons. Ever since she was little, when our village at the time was attacked by one."

"Your... village...?"

"It's gone now, nothing but ash. I was in the capitol at the time, still... a member of the Council..." She stood upright. "That doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Krarshe hurriedly nodded.

"I hurried there as quickly as I could, but everything was in ruin. My..." she paused to swallow. "My late husband was lost there too... But, bless his soul, he remembered my offhanded warnings and successfully hid my daughter away. Apparently not well enough though..."

"What do you mean?"

"She... would often relive what she saw there. The carnage, the death. Her own father..." She turned and took a few steps away. She breathed deeply. "I'm thankful she's alive of course, but I wish she hadn't been able to witness any of it."

"O-oh..." Krarshe understood now. Now knowing what happened, he was glad he didn't ask her about it earlier.

"Of course, as she grew older, the nightmares stopped. Or, for the most part. But she hates being shackled by this fear. And despite her best efforts, it still binds her."

"I mean... I don't... It... Hmm."

"It's fine, you don't have to say anything. Just try to understand if she has a moment."

"... Of course." Krarshe hesitated before continuing, "Is it the same thing as... out there?"

"You mean the Ever-burning Fields? No, it wasn't that bad. Thank whichever deity for that one. It's all legend and song now, even for someone my age, but that was supposedly a great-wyrm."

"An older dragon? But why would it do that?"

Taliarrah shrugged. "Why do any of those monsters do what they do?"

"Couldn't they just ask them?"

Taliarrah stared at him blankly. "What?"

"I mean, they clearly have a language, don't they? If a great-wyrm started attacking, why not ask him why?"

"... That... is the strangest proposition I've ever heard."

"How so?"

"If a gigantic beast came down, snarling, roaring, and started incinerating everything, who would be brave, or stupid, enough to step out and negotiate?"

"Snarling? Umm... Are you sure you don't mean a dzues?"

"A what?"

"Oh. Err... I mean, a drake?"

Krarshe could tell by her puzzled look that she didn't understand what he meant.

"Would it be a different term, maybe?" he asked.

"I... have no idea what you mean."

"You know, a dragon that's gone mad. I'm sorry if I'm not using the right word."

"Gone... mad...? How would you figure that?"

"Dragons are intelligent enough to have a language, right?"

"I... suppose..." Her expression remained as bewildered as when he'd started, but she nodded along with what he was saying.

"Well, if they come down snarling and behaving as a beast, then it makes sense they went mad, no?"

Her eyes wandered the room, clearly lost in thought. "I... Perhaps that could be true..." She faced Krarshe. "Where... did you hear this idea?"

"Hear? Mmm... I mean, I heard about dzu- drakes when I was back home. I don't know if the perpetrators were drakes in these cases though."

Taliarrah nodded slowly. "Uh-huh... Where did you say you were from again?"

... Uh oh. Krun! "Oh, nowhere you would have heard of. This is all just speculation." He laughed nervously, trying to distance himself from the topic.

"Sure... I'd be interested in talking to whoever proposed this in your homeland."

No no no no no no.

"For now though, Krarshe, you should get to sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, and it's a hard road on foot."

"R-right. Sleep well, master."

As she left and closed the door, Krarshe flopped onto his bed with a sigh of relief. "Good job, you krun." He rolled over. "I need to be more careful of what I say."

He leaned over to the table beside his bed and blew out the candle.

As he lay there, waiting for sleep to come, he turned the events of the day and the conversation he'd had with Taliarrah over in his mind. Between the story of Lycia's childhood and his own errors, he found the night a long, sleepless one.