Chapter 29:
Tales from Zemliharos: Night of The Striga
By the time Peter had concluded his training with the priest, every bit of him ached and felt bruised from every possible angle. The sun was setting and he felt more frustrated with himself than ever before. Throughout the entire day, he had learned to hold his form for close to a half hour at a time, though he knew it wouldn’t be enough when facing down a horde of striga, who would be merciless until the end of daybreak, where he’d need to be at the peak of his powers for hours at a time. All he felt now was tired, hungry and queasy, as if he had just attempted to run a marathon. He just hoped the mead would be enough to take the worst of the edge off.
Peter walked past the bridge between the docks and the taverns. On it, several heroic statues, depicting several knights, priests and even a Krsnik or two, were dotted along it. While Peter didn’t know the stories behind their feats, it made him all the more frustrated in himself that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to match their strength, let alone in the span of two weeks. It was while he was staring at one depicting a krsnik in lynx form while it thoroughly beheaded a Drekavac that he heard that guttural laughter. It was a sound he’d be hard pressed to ever misremember. It came from Tinnie, and sounded as if it were down below the bridge, into the slums where the guards had warned him not to visit. He knew that he needed to face his supposedly loyal servant, to see why he had disappeared so suddenly, and if he might know something that could help Peter. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the imp’s insights had come in handy on more than a few occasions, though the price of them were still to be seen.
As Peter reached the end of the bridge, he stepped down onto the rocky stairways, down towards the depths of the cove below. As he made his way deeper into the depths, he saw several squatters attempting to find refuge in between the stairs, their worldly positions all laid out by their feet. They glared at the outsider as he descended towards the bottom of the encampment, and he could feel their every assessment as he had his back turned to them. Once Peter reached the bottom, the place reeked of piss and rotting fish. Several encampments huddled together as they burned makeshift bonfires, and while the water was in low tide, many huddled as tightly towards the cliffside as they could, for the winds of fate could change at any minute.
He then saw Tinnie, standing atop some of the coastal beachrock, with a lit torch in his hand as he held it close to his face. “It was then Ljubljana was said to have faced Baba Roga, her bane threatening to rid the city of its beggars, rogues and destitute, all so they could be made into her meat pies and stew. As she approached Ragusiic, her wings so wide they were said to have blocked out the sun, Ljubljana, the mighty dragon he was, blew his flames to incinerate the vile witches. It’s why there’s no trees around Ragusiic to this day. ” Tinnie took a deep breath and blew on his torch, just enough for the flames to flicker out in the opposite direction in an attempt to simulate the flamethrower. “He drove back the vile wenches, but at a massive cost. To save the men he grew so fond of, their bellowing laughter, their unbreakable kinship, their ability to see the best in even the direst of scenarios, the witch made him a deal. He would give up his scales and wings, and she’d leave. If he ever wanted them back, he’d have to break her curse and lay an evening in her tomb where her body should be resting. They say, to this day, this dragon searches, looking to break his curse so he can one day free his people once more.”
“Story is a load of bollocks, what dragon would care about blokes like us? Be more likely to see us as tonight's meal than a friend.”
Tinnie laughed, “You’re right, most would. Even the noble Ljubljana was said to have been unable to tame his most draconic tendencies at times. Mighty dragons even have bad days, theirs just tend to be a lot more bloody. And who doesn’t love their cutlets with a little extra blood on the side sometimes.” Tinnie released one of his bloodcurdling laughs at the thought, though no one else in the crowd seemed to find it as amusing.
Peter stepped through the crowd while Tinnie continued his escapades, until he stood close enough that there would be no chance of the imp not noticing him. His eyes opened a little when seeing Peter, until an overly toothy smile emitted from his face. “But enough of dragons, who’s heard of leshy?
“Heard they ain’t done nothin’ but fart in the woods.”
Tinnie laughed. “Oh yes they do, though they do far more than that. Leshy are like Ljubljana, though they prefer to keep the peasantry at a distance. But peasants never do the same, because what do they hold?”
“Gold!”
“Medicine!”
“Wenches!”
“All great guesses, though they all could be true, from a certain point of view. Wishes, wishes to grant your heart’s content. But what’s the problem with wishes?” The crowd is silent, “Wishes are temperamental creatures. What you want versus what you get are up for interpretation. But how do you get these wishes?”
“By making the leshy laugh.”
“Exactly.” Tinnie looks directly at Peter, “Your heart’s content is granted, just be sure to be careful what you wish for, for you just might get it.”
“Where do we find a leshy, always wanted to .”
“A leshy finds you, but only if it wishes to be found, deep in the trees, by Dragica Lake.”
Most riff raff gathered and shoved around Tinnie, demanding more and more from the imp. Peter pushed back, losing his space in the huddle. His attention went down towards his person as he swore he felt a pick pocket press their hands onto pockets. As he raised his head back up, the imp seemed to have vanished in a flash, disappearing as quickly as he had returned. While he hadn’t gotten the answers he wanted, he got some that he needed. There was no doubt about it, Tinnie wanted Peter to find the Leshy, to have its powers realized by its wishes. But then came the hardest part in all of this, how he planned on reaching Dragica Lake on his own. But if he wanted to conquer his powers, there’d be no better prospect for mastering them in time. It was time to meet this leshy in person.
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