Outside of Moonfang’s cave, Quora beheld the cloud-covered land below, where only a few great trees could reach into sight. The wind whipped at her clothing, and she felt a light rain pelting against her skin.

She centred herself amidst the weather. The power of magick gathered around her, ready to receive her command. She spoke in Aethrakarn, an arcane tongue, and her voice took on a ringing like a brass spire.

“Though he is weak in my mind, there is one I wish to find,” Quora said, producing Cyrus’ cloth and offering it to her spell, "I seek the human called Cyrus!”

Bright blue energies wrapped themselves around the cloth and lifted it from Quora’s hand. She watched the magicks do their work, flipping and turning the cloth as if examining it. With a flash, the spell shot toward the lands below, leaving a faint trail of light and punching a perfect hole through the clouds as it went. Quora considered the direction of the spell relative to the Mountains of Moon.

“That way lies Myrellia, hardly the place for a scholar…”

Quora called upon magick again and enacted a spell of shape-shifting. After a flash of magickal power, a devilish bird of prey took flight.

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Quora followed the spell and found that it led not to Myrellia but to an outlying village nearby the Holy City called Riverton. Nestled within a forest, the town was built around its namesake river that flowed strong enough to push its many waterwheels. Quora flew to a spot on the riverbank that she figured to be obscured from view and changed to her human shape. The water was calmer here, enough that Quora could gaze at her reflection. The winds of the Mountains of Moon had done much to dishevel her appearance. She adjusted her violet clothing, noting her exposed navel and cleavage, and chose to err on the side of discrepancy. A gentle breeze rattled the copper jewelry and spangles that hung from her person. Loose sleeves covered her forearms, and her nails were painted copper like her jewelry. She straightened her skirt, which was draped behind her waist and legs. Tight-fitting nylon gave her legs a lavender hue. Heeled shoes held by straps covered Quora’s feet. Quora removed the spangled veil covering her raven hair and used magic to restore her hair’s appearance, which she preferred flowing long and loose. She tightened her clothing to expose as little of her body as possible, but the fact remained that Quora was flawless, and she wanted others to know it. Satisfied with her appearance, she ventured into Riverton.

It clearly wasn’t every day in Riverton that one of unearthly beauty arrived in town, for Quora was beset by prying eyes and muttered whispers that did little to stay discreet. A large man in a white tunic and brown trousers would be the one who dared approach. He was balding, and facial hair covered his chin. His smile made his eyes look like slits.

“Now, uh, there’s a face I haven’t seen before,” said the man, “Han’s the name.”

“Quora.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quora.” Han nodded, “What brings you to our corner of Aveldan?”

Quora sensed a hint of nervousness in Han’s voice, but he otherwise seemed genuine, “Does a man named Cyrus live in this town?”

Han scratched his beard, “Old Cyrus sure does. I'm not sure why you’d want him, though; he’s all about his books and whatnot. Keeps to himself, he does.”

Quora’s lips curled into a smile. She arched her back, “I happen to be a fan of his books, and when I heard what he was researching these days, I just had to come and meet him.” She tilted her head, “Won’t you tell me where he lives?”

Quora could hear Han’s pulse rising, “Uh, yes, he’s just down the road to your left there. Can’t miss the place. Oh, and watch out for his-“

“Thank you, Han, I’ll be going now.”

Quora took off in the direction Han told her, nearly brushing against him as she passed. She had a mischievous grin as she passed the bewildered townsfolk.

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As Han said, the road ended with a quiet little house shaded by the surrounding trees. It was well-maintained, and a deck led up to the front door. Quora knocked on the door. She heard heavy steps on wood floors from within approach and then a little slide of wood as the peephole opened. The peephole shut, and the door opened to reveal the largest woman Quora had ever seen. She had oily hair tied back, a chiselled face with stern eyes bearing down on Quora, and a powerful physique more akin to a bear than a human.

“You’re not from around here.” The big woman tersely said.

Quora put on a look of bewilderment, “How do you figure that?”

“I know everybody in Riverton. Nobody in Riverton dresses like that.” She breathed sharply through her nose, “What do you want?”

“Well, I’m here to see Mr. Cyrus,” Quora replied in a shaky tone.

“Cut the act.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Quora’s brow furrowed, “Cyrus stole a document from my sister, and I’m here to discuss getting it back.”

The big woman nodded, “I see.”

She stepped aside and invited Quora inside, “Name’s Amelia. Grab a seat at the kitchen table, and I’ll grab Cyrus for you.”

Inside, the house was wrought almost entirely of finished wood. The walls were painted a glossy white, and the floor had a matte finish. The floor creaked beneath Quora’s heels as she found a place to sit. The place was spotless. The kitchen table was lit by a grand window lined with indoor planters nearly bursting with verdant vines. The cushioned chairs felt surprisingly comfortable, and Quora could feel the warmth of the sun’s rays. Quora could hear whispering as Amelia and someone else came down the stairs.

“W-what do you think this means?” a man asked, “Do you think that’s…that’s-“

“Could very well be,” replied Amelia, “Just be honest with her, and we’ll be fine.”

Quora smiled when an older man came to sit at the table after he sent Amelia to make tea. He had a head of wispy white hair and a long beard. On his nose sat a pair of round spectacles. He wore a brown sweater and cropped trousers. He was shaky as he sat down, perhaps due to his age or fearful demeanour. Quora recognized his scent. He had barely sat down when she spoke.

“Hello, Cyrus.”

He looked up at Quora. When she was sure he made eye contact, she let her hold of her human shape slip enough that her eyes glowed a fiery orange – she wanted him to know what he had gotten himself into. Cyrus shuddered.

“Who are you? W-what are you?” stammered Cyrus, “What do you want with me?”

Quora’s gaze intensified, “You know my name and why I’m here. I heard you as you came down.”

Cyrus nodded quickly. He produced a scroll and gave it to Quora, “T-there…take it and go…”

“No. I want more.” Quora leaned toward Cyrus and let more of her human disguise slip so her voice had a draconic undertone, “If you’re willing to steal that, you surely have more. Give it to me, or else you shall see the true might of Qorrametz. I will destroy your home, burn your works, and feast upon your flesh. I will leave nothing left of you, Cyrus.”

“No, wait!” Cyrus yelped. Amelia came running and was aghast when she saw Quora. He continued, “Be reasonable! I’m sure we can work something out!”

Quora sat back in her chair and restored her human shape. She took the scroll and opened it:

To man she once promised light,

To man she brings silence.

His greatest companion faces heaven’s wrath

And lives to deal a final blow.

It was indeed a work of Fafnir, the so-called Visions of Fafnir: Volume III. Quora asked why Cyrus would want such a thing. His demeanour seemed to calm down.

“I once heard of the existence of the Visions, and I’ve been curious ever since.” said Cyrus, “You see, the Old King Fafnir was one gifted with foresight. It’s been theorized that he saw the world’s doom and thus produced the Visions to warn us. Not everyone saw it that way, though…”

Quora felt a pang of anguish. She sighed, “Go on.”

Amelia arrived with the tea set, the pot full of hot tea with a few cups of cream and sugar cubes. Cyrus thanked her, and she glanced at Quora and made herself scarce.

Cyrus poured the tea as he continued, and there was a displeased look on his face, “That no-goodnick Dreamford saw the Visions as a threat and challenged Fafnir to a wizard’s duel. They burned the land with magicks and summoned terrifying dragons to do battle.”

Quora couldn’t help but grin at the idea of a human ever having a dragon at their beck and call.

“But Dreamford won, and that was that. Nobody knows what happened to old Fafnir, but what’s obvious is that he’s not around anymore. Some say Dreamford sent him to the Underworld while he was still alive—a terrible fate, to be sure. And that’s how the old kingdom came to be called Dreamford.”

Quora thought little of interrupting Cyrus’ rambling. He put one sugar cube in his tea and added cream. Quora had added six cubes to her tea, with Cyrus hardly noticing. She popped a seventh in her mouth, just to be sure.

“Now that I know the Visions are real, I made it my mission to collect and publish the completed work, my last labour before I retire from the scholarly practice entirely. Tracking the things down proved harder than I thought…I figured Moonfang would have one of them because the old king would often speak highly of her.”

Quora tilted her head, “You speak like you knew Fafnir personally.”

Cyrus smiled, “That I did. He rather played down his arcane gifts and advocated for academia. I couldn’t tell you how many discussions I had with him. He was a pleasant debater.”

Quora nodded and cleared her throat, “I seek the Visions because, as you know, Moonfang has a collection of Fafnir’s work. I hope to gather the Visions that her collection is completed.”

Cyrus was intrigued, “Well, I wouldn’t need to keep the originals. If I copied from them, you could take the originals to Moonfang. With your, uh, powers and my connections, I think we can both walk away happy. How does that sound?”

Quora nodded, “…What connections?”

Cyrus shuddered, “Uh, well, there’s the thief who stole the excerpt of the Visions we have here.”

“A thief. That wasn’t you who stole it?”

Cyrus shook his head, “By Myratel, no! Do I look like someone who could steal from a dragon and get away with it?”

“You don’t have to look the part.” Said Quora, “I found a piece of your clothing in Moonfang’s cave. It’s how I found you live in Riverton.”

“That no-goodnick, Eramus!” spat Cyrus, “I had him steal the Visions while I spoke to Moonfang. He must have planted that clothing there to make me look like the culprit! Well, never mind the connections, I guess.”

Quora crossed her arms. “Very well, then.” She sipped her tea, which was more of a hot syrup. ”Do you have any ideas of where we can find more of the Visions?”

Cyrus fetched a map of Aveldan, with dots of red ink pointing out places where suspected parts of the Visions were being kept. He stressed they were likely being kept under high security. He pointed at the Holy City of Myrellia.

“Let’s try here first; it’s the closest by,” said Cyrus. The cathedral’s archive is the seat of holy relics and other items collected over the centuries. They'd be stored there if they’ve got any of the Visions. As for getting in...well, I’d leave that to you.”

“Very good.” Quora drained her cup, “Then I make for Myrellia at once. As for Eramus, can you tell me where I could find him?”

Cyrus scratched his head, “Dreamford would be the place, but I’d think him compromised, no?”

Quora ignored his concern and went to take her leave, “I’ll be back soon, Cyrus.”

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Outside of Cyrus’ home, Quora was deliberating on a devilish spell that she never had a use for until now.

A little thief - Eramus, was it? I’ll make him comply.