Volk lowered his arm as he rested upon his steed. The road stretched on through the snowy glen, dancing between trees like a sewing needle gliding between an widow’s fingers. Hot steam left Volk’s lips as he adjusted his coat, reaching into the fur interior. He pulled out a small vial, uncorking the top as he threw a thick liquid into the back of his throat. It had a burn similar to alcohol, with a soft metallic taste to it.

“I didn’t think there were any villages this far north. Not in Gairm, anyway.” One of Volk’s men, a Khadinan, peeped above the silence of the snow, “How close are we to the border?”

“Not far. Trska is just beyond the ridge.” Klaus interjected.

Volk felt the need to correct Klaus’ pronunciation, but he thought it inappropriate. He continued to pet his horse when her hooves dug into the earth. She stood silently, eyes like glass. Her body was still. Volk held his tongue, looking into the forest. A small woah was all he could do to try to calm her. Volk’s men immediately stopped, looking into the treetops.

The respect Volk had for his steed was palpable. He spoke softly as a father would reading to his child. Grav was normally a quiet, peaceful horse. Not once had she bucked him off. She didn’t bite nor did she kick. She was an angel in equine form.

Grav started to huff. She stepped with one hoof, her eyes glancing side to side exposing the whites of her eyes. Petting wouldn’t calm her. Volk leaped from Grav’s back, throwing his legs over first. He held onto the saddle with his left arm. Volk pulled his sword from the scabbard tied to the saddle, looking into the snow for any sign of life. His men dismounted. Their horses started to fidget and paw at the ground nervously.

The forest was grinding. It was like teeth raking against bark. A slobbering, hissing sound gurgled nearby. Volk stepped away from his horse, walking down the road. He looked down a small hill, and between the trees growled a lone drake. The spines on its back flexed up and down erratically, its head shaking as it smashed its body against the trees. Its yellow eyes were sick with madness. Tears ran down its snout as drool formed puddles beneath its feet. Volk crept up to a nearby pine, crouching down behind it. The drake started to dig its claws into the snow, shoveling at the dirt beneath. It scooped up leaves and branches with its mouth. It stopped, craning its neck up towards the heavens. It panted, forked tongue protruding from between its fangs. It ran into the forest, stumbling its way between the trees.

“What’s wrong with it?” Volk’s Alostian soldier asked, kneeling beside his superior as the drake disappeared. He lifted himself as he returned to his horse. There was no answer that would satisfy the man’s question.

“The explosion happened over there.” Klaus pointed, “Maybe that’s what’s got it acting up.”

The impact area was massive. Trees were charred and bent backward from the blast. The bodies of the Todesspucker were beginning to fester and rot, their corpses inedible to most wildlife.

“By Anlun…” The Alostian knelt, inspecting one of the corpses. It reeked of smoke. Liquid poured out of its eye sockets, leaving behind burned sinew and exposed bone. Its tongue appeared to bloat before bursting from the heat. One of the beasts was cut open, while the other was stabbed dozens of times and laid up against a tree.

“That’s where we found her.” Klaus said. Volk followed the captain’s arm.

A patch of grass sat at the epicenter, finger marks burrowed into the dirt and left clumps nearby. Footprints led away from the verdant bed. The tree directly above the patch was untouched by flame and stood tall among it’s crooked brethren. Green needles still clung to its branches.

Bootprints wandered away from the grass, sliding around in the mud. Volkov stood up and followed the trail. Hand prints appeared after a particularly nasty fall. Volk entered the tree line and stumbled upon smatterings of blood on the bark.

Volk planted his foot into the soil, but it fell into a charred void where tree roots once sat. He reached out for one of the trunks. He slid downwards, his rear crunching into dry branches.

“I’m alright!” Volk called out as his men called him.

He traveled further into the forest. The charred remnants of the explosion soon fell away to a skeletal blanket of shrubbery. He could feel thorn bushes dragging against his pants as he walked. The boots became harder to follow as ash layers thickened.

There was an odd-looking object in the path. Volk reached down, pulling up the straps of a ripped satchel. Its contents spilled out into the forest floor. He scooped up the items, spotting a deep hole where the boy had fallen again. There was blood and soot mixed into the mud.

“Ser! Men approaching!” The Khadinan called out, “Nizinski colors!”

Volk sighed, turning back towards the epicenter of the blast. He could hear hooves traveling through the trees, though he couldn’t pinpoint from where until he spotted four men riding from the north. Volk returned to his men just as three armored knights appeared, watching the Dragonguard through small horizontal slits in their helmets.

“Well armed for guards.” Klaus said, “Is that what they all look like?”

“Those aren’t guards.” Volk said, “Those are The Zlatni. The Gold Ones. Let me talk to them.”

As the Zlatni approached, the embroidery of their blue gambesons gave insight into individual achievements. Volk recognized a few. He spoke to the Zlatni, his words unintelligible to Klaus and the others.

“Anlun’s blessings.” Volk said, “You seek answers?”

One of the Zlatni took charge. His eyes were obscured, but Volk knew he was looking at the pendant tied beneath his shoulder. He was being studied, likely in an attempt to discern whether he was friend or foe.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“May his radiance light your way.” The Zlatni said, “we seek the mage responsible for this. He is a threat to Anlun’s faithful in Trska.”

“How do you know of this?”

“Men from Trska spotted a boy running away from the blast area.”

“When was this?”

“Last night.” The Zlatni said, “You sound surprised.”

“I’m investigating the aftermath of a Todesspucker attack.” Volk looked at Klaus, then back, “I was told he was dead.”

“We must find him.”

“Agreed. You are free to join us, but I cannot allow you to take him.”

“You defy one of Anlun’s chosen?”

“I am Dragonguard. If he is a Gairman mage, he must come with me by law.”

“This boy is dangerous, he must be taken to the citadel.”

“You would punish an innocent boy? He has been given the blessing of the Zlatni Čuvar. Spare him, and I will ensure he finds his way.”

“Zlatni Čuvar… You speak not as Dragonguard, but as a brother. Who is your commander?”

“Siacus O’Mathuna.” Volk said, “Lord of Kriedeberg, I am his seeker.”

The Zlatni leader’s helmet lowered in thought. It raised, scanning each of the men in Volk’s party.A

“The boy was seen heading south, towards the twin sisters.” The Zlatni pointed to Kriedeberg, “My brothers are at the border. They are culling drakes near Trska. I should return to them.”

“Peace to you. I wish you luck on your hunt.”

“And to you, Dragonguard.”

The Zlatni held up his hand, signaling his men to follow as his horse turned away from Volk. Without another word, the knights made their way back to Trska.

“I can’t believe a fourteen year old did this.” Klaus shook his head, “My son’s that age. To think that he- Sam couldn’t do this, right?”

“I doubt Sam would have any abilities of his own. You have shown no affinity for magic. Roy is different.” Volk said.

“What did you find?” The Khadinan glanced at Volk’s bulging pouch.

“Roy had a journal with him.” Volk raised his hand, revealing a leather-bound tome covered in snow and mud. We should head back. This may have more answers.”

“What about the Todesspucker?” Klaus said, “You seem more focused on Roy than the drakes. Why is he so important? He’s dead!”

“You never found his body. If he’s alive with powers that can wipe out a forest, he can’t roam free.” Volk said, “He may be more dangerous than the Todesspucker. I will send word to Lord Becker, and request more guards for Mossglen. That should give you the strength you need to face them on your own.”

“So you’re leaving us?”

“If this happens again, Nizini will send more knights. I’m trying to avoid a conflict.” Volk said.

“Fine.” Klaus waved his hand, “This was a waste of time.”

“No.” Volk raised the journal, “This is exactly what I need.”

…

Volk shuffled through his pack, reaching for a vial. He lifted the lid with his thumb, pouring its contents into his mouth, a bit of red staining the corner of his lip. A feeling of calm washed over him as the warmth cascaded down his throat. It was like a breath of fresh air after being trapped under a thick blanket.

A wet notebook sat open at the lip of the fireplace. Arthur approached the seeker. He wore a deep blue tunic and pants unlike what he wore upon his arrival. He inspected items in the satchel, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he felt fuzz on the bottom of the pack. He pulled it out, revealing a patch of thick brown fur. A musty smell lingered off of it. It was torn and warped.

“I found the burn scar.” Volk said, as he felt Arthur’s presence behind him, “I saw what happened to the Todesspucker.”

“Did you find Roy?”

“No.” Volk reached over, tapping the book’s surface. After hours of warmth, it had finally started to bounce back from the elements. Volk pulled the book away from the fire, resting its spine on his lap. Volk had hoped the notebook would hold clues. Instead, it housed a zoo of different plants and animals. Kriedeberg appeared, then streams and rivers. Arthur looked over the seeker’s shoulder. The man appeared enamored with the drawings.

“These are good,” Volk said, “he doesn’t write. That’s a shame.”

“Seeker? What did you find?”

“The explosion may have been the result of latent pyromancy.” Volk flipped to the back, noticing a page had been torn clean. His thumb loosened, releasing the previous page, “It attracted the Zlatni.”

“Were they hostile?”

“Hostile?” Volk said, “They wish to take the boy to the Citadel. These are… not the Zlatni I know.”

“The citadel?”

“It’s where they send mages and the inhuman. If that boy is alive, the Zlatni will take him there.”

“What do we do now?”

“I will return to Kriedeberg. Once I send word to Keldengen, you will have soldiers to destroy the nests.”

“Thank you, Volk.” Arthur said. There was a tinge of disappointment in his voice, “Perhaps lord Becker will listen if the Dragonguard is concerned.”

“I only hope that help comes in time.” Volk said, “I would hate to hear of another attack.”

“I wish you luck in your search.” Arthur said, “I’ll gather the information I have for the guard. Keep his satchel; If you find Roy, he’ll want his things back.”

Arthur stepped away from the seeker as he leafed through the notebook. He looked for anything of note in the boy’s drawings; words, names, places.

Volk spotted the boy’s name. A man appeared beneath it. Focused eyes were set in a rounded face. A goatee enveloped his lips. His nose maintained a perfect diagonal line as it rounded off towards the bottom. Volkov closed the notebook, putting it down to free up his only hand. He put his elbow on his knee and rubbed his jaw.

He recognized the man in the drawing.

----------------------------------------

End of Part One