Longtime lunchtime eatery, Sushi Sam’s, is closing today for the foreseeable future. In the wake of recent reports, it has become clear that Sam has been consumed by a terrifying solar kraken. It appears that an ingredient for the fan favorite, Sunshine Unagi Roll, was indeed sourced, unsustainably, from kraken eggs on the planet Ispartika. The broodmother kraken was justifiably quite distressed.
– Cazoran Times, Voidbreaker News
Chapter 1 – The Dragon’s Maw
"Marvel at my genius, dear judges," Susie Q declared, her honey voice echoing in the forest smithy. "A sip from this chalice offers the unworthy a sweet kiss of oblivion."
Dearest Susie Q, if only you knew. Your teacup's kiss is far preferable to a dragon's. Elara's heart clenched with the knowledge that this vibrant young woman, so full of ambition and skill, would soon die quite miserably.
Elara observed as Susie stepped forward. Her leather boots clicked against the cobblestone courtyard. They were pristine, but of poor make. Not a hint of aeso on her.
With bravado that matched her jaunt, red robe and auburn hair swished by the crowd as Susie approached the raised stage. She turned back in a toast, drawing attention to the chalice she’d enchanted. "May the best forger win!" The vessel pulsed, its delicate ornaments clutching an emerald. The crowd in turn murmured appreciatively, seduced by the chalice’s allure.
Cloaked in her own monochrome gray silks, Elara watched from the judges’ stand. An eyebrow arched at the display. Some would call this murder. Let them.
For these upstart manasmiths, this was their “opportunity.” They competed to earn the favor of the revered Dutch Eternal—the youngest Falkori Dragon to become a master manasmith in over 10 millennia. To become her apprentice was to reach their dreams in a single step. Wealth. Fame. Knowledge. All was possible.
The judges knew better. Elara Twice knew better.
Elara's gaze shifted, cutting through the throng of onlookers. There, amidst the spectacle, stood Tokyo Twice. Her slender silhouette was covered in aeso—that black glittery dust that all true manasmiths wore as makeup and aprons. Toki's violet eyes, framed by the white of her hair, remained locked on the chalice in challenge. She was unassuming, given the plethora of beefy and boisterous blacksmiths around her, but her crafting sense was perhaps the best of them all… execution was another story…
"Another year, another sacrifice," Elara muttered under her breath, too low for any but the ghosts of this competition to hear. She knew the price of the Alabaster Ring’s Forgeworks competition. As a [Strategist] and the current matriarch of the Twice clan, she had already woven the threads of fate, trading away pieces of their dwindling assets to keep the lineage intact. She watched Toki, surrounded yet alone, and felt the sting of the bargains she'd struck.
A balding judge murmured beside Elara, "remarkable talent, a little on the nose, though. I would hardly expect anyone to drink from that foul cup willingly." He poured mana into the chalice manascript allowing all the judges to observe the enchantment. A thick poison bubbled into the cup.
If it smells toxic and looks toxic, it's probably toxic, Elara mused.
“Perhaps it’s enough to sway the old lizard—the manascript is quite elegant,” the judge continued.
This judge was her plant. He would advocate against Taco Tuesdays if Elara willed it, not that she would even consider such blasphemy. "Indeed," Elara lamented, her eyes lingered on Toki, a silent vow that no dragon would claim the young Twice today.
The forest air was tinged with anticipation as another contestant, a burly blacksmith, hefted his creation onto the stage—a sword, its blade wreathed in flames. It elicited a few compliments from the crowd but nothing more than disinterested glances from the judges' table. Such weapons were the bread and butter of any manasmith worth their aeso; it was innovation, not replication, that would steal the show here in Alabaster Ring.
This specific brand of enchantment manifests through a story of rage. A dime a dozen—leave it to the dynasty to mass produce those. Elara frowned. She was a manasmith too, back in her youth. She had only escaped the forge after being caught contracting a poor branch-family girl to fill her ‘smithing quota. The elders said she had potential.
“Another flaming sword," muttered her plant, his tone flat. "It's as if imagination’s harder to find than adamant these days."
Elara scanned the murmurs of the other gathered judges. She caught the subtle nod of Golghiem Vast, his expression unreadable beneath the silver cascade of his beard. He was the linchpin, the one whose verdict could unravel all her carefully laid plans.
"Susie's craftsmanship has a... certain… appeal, in that regard." Elara remembered the manascript on Susie’s chalice; it was poignant and spoke a rich story of grief, revenge, and hope. It was also why her poison looked so positively malevolent.
"Appeal, indeed, but I expect great things from the young Twice. She is Oberon’s sister, after all." Golgheim replied, his eyes meeting hers with an unspoken challenge. Elara frowned further.
The judges murmured amongst themselves, making last-minute deals to swing their progeny’s own fates, when a shift occurred in the audience. It was Toki's turn. Onlookers around her seemed to still, as if yielding the floor to her. She stepped forward, her slender hands cradling something far removed from many of the mundane offerings thus far.
She unveiled her creation even before approaching the judges stand: a large dragonfly wrought from copper. Its pleated wings reflected the evening light, casting shadows on the manascript etching. The creature was released into the air as Toki continued walking towards the judges. It took flight, glowing a neutral white, its wings blurring the precise engineering.
The dragonfly briefly hovered above the heads of the spectators who watched in awe before winding itself around the forest gathering, weaving between tubs of molten metal and moving though the moorings of the floating ships above. It buzzed by anvils, skipping between hammer blows and then into the bushes by the edge of the clearing before it climbed higher, climbed ever higher, against the backdrop of the gas giant painting the horizon above.
"By the gods," someone yelled out, echoing the sentiment of the crowd. "It's alive!"
Elara watched on as Toki pulled out a copper bar and winked at the judges. She sighed at the showmanship. As if rebelling against the sigh, Toki tossed the bar into the air and the dragonfly struck true. Instead of a collision, the momentum transferred to the bar and a new dragonfly was formed.
Unassuming, my ass.
The dragonfly body was not merely ornamental, it turned out. They descended. The two dragonflies transformed into blades, both careening towards the judges. Gasps resounded around Elara. The blades landed with a thump, stabbing straight into the core of the table. One of them embedded itself in front of Elara—the other in front of Golgheim.
Toki took to the stage. Ever the performer.
She stood in front of her grandmother and pulled out the dragonfly blade as if it were a blade lodged in a body. After bowing to the judges, she returned to the crowd. The remaining blade flickered in front of Golgheim, morphing once again into a dragonfly.
Elara sighed again, shards damn it, Toki. You’re making my job as hard as a cervidian gigolo on the sauce.
She felt both a frown and a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. There was no doubt that Toki's talent had blossomed. Anyone’s skill would, after the hours that girl spent ‘smithing. Convincing the others that it hasn’t will be a challenge.
To her dismay, Elara sensed the shift in the stand. The murmurs amongst the judges crescendoed into a discourse, their eyes flickering between Toki's remaining dragonfly and Susie's chalice.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
"Remarkable," Golgheim conceded, his eyes tracing the manascript on the copper insect. "To think, such ingenuity from the Twice line again. By the gods, what do you feed them?"
"Let’s not be hasty," Elara echoed, the words tasting false. Susie's chalice might have been impressive, but this… this was indeed fledgling artistry.
Golgheim continued, "very inventive, Tokyo Twice," his tone almost affectionate. But there was a hardness in his eyes, a reminder of the unsaid bargain that lingered. Elara met his gaze evenly, their politico masks firmly in place.
"Imagine," another judge mused aloud, his fingers tentatively stroking his mustache, "if we sent this dragonfly inside. It might just be enough."
Elara knew it would not be enough. She would not be so cavalier to risk the last of the Twice line to Dutch Eternal.
"That lizard is capricious and fleeting," Golgheim countered, his words measured. "We've seen the dragon's whims. One moment's fancy can be the next moment's ash." Elena took the hint that there was still room to maneuver.
"Indeed," another judge added, her voice laced with apprehension. "And this year's offering... they may not suffice."
Elara's heart clenched, but her face remained a mask of indifference. "Are we so quick to discount the skill of our forgers? Susie Q's chalice is an exemplar of craftsmanship and ingenuity."
"A gamble you mean," Golgheim replied, his gaze settling on Elara. "Is it enough? Or should I stake fate on young Tokyo's creation?"
“I suppose we’ll all have to discuss then…” Elara replied, exasperated. Susie dear, I’d like a kiss of that chalice now.
The deliberations dragged on, each creation revisited, scrutinized, and ranked. Elara conferred with her colleagues on their deals as Golgheim made notes. Her gambit had secured the allegiance of many, yet Golgheim—ever the fulcrum—resisted the charm of coin and promise.
"Golgheim," Elara ventured, her overbearing tone a calculated risk, "might I propose a further arrangement? You have not spoken about what you’d require in the upcoming trade legislation. Be a dear and give me some face."
Golgheim met her gaze, and in the space between them, unspoken truths loomed large. "A generous offer," he conceded after a pause that seemed to stretch into eternity. "But I only have one condition, Twice."
"And what might that be?" she inquired, her throat tight.
"Carry your fate," Golgheim said simply. "You shall accompany the chalice to visit Dutch."
A cold shiver raced down Elara's spine, but she held his stare unwaveringly. There was indeed no path for Golgheim, no retreat from the bargain she herself had authored. Choosing Susie would put him on the suboptimal path. He had been chosen as a walker—he would accompany the victor to see Dutch Eternal.
Elara looked around for a scapegoat, but Golgheim shook his head. “There’s no one else who would accept. I’m sorry Elara.”
She closed her eyes and composed herself. A battle raged behind her eyelids. With a nod, she sealed her fate. The final piece moved into place on the board of their intricate game. "Agreed," she whispered, the word falling like a death knell.
Elara cast [Create Contract].
Golgheim's eyes locked onto hers, searching, questioning, before nodding solemnly, the agreement now sealed by more than mere words. He handed her Toki’s dragonfly, "let us tally, though I suspect we now know the results." He turned back toward the stage where the crowd murmured in anticipation.
The judges emerged from their deliberation to thin air—air hollowed by the collective held breath of the assembly. Elara positioned herself where she could see Toki amongst the sea of faces, the young forger's anxious gaze fixed on the elevated platform. A tap from a gavel silenced the rabble, commanding attention as the final verdict loomed.
"By the decision of this council and the authority vested in me as speaker," Golgheim's voice resonated through the courtyard, "I shall present the results!"
Golgheim pulled out his envelope and slowly opened it, drawing out the anticipation in the crowd. He began at the bottom, droning on about each of the top twenty finalists out of four hundred entrants. Each would receive a sizable reward to further their craft. The air was a vacuum by the time he reached the top three when he stopped. He paused. Long enough. Perhaps too long, to draw out the dramatic effect.
Then he announced, “Susie Q! The winner! Tokyo Twice, second place! Pete Conrad, third!”
Applause erupted like a sudden downpour, the spectators caught in a deluge for the victor. Amidst the uproar, Elara's eyes remained glued to Toki, whose shoulders slumped, the glint of her white hair dulling under the weight of defeat. Yet, there was no cry of despair, not yet. No outward sign of the pain that Elara knew tore through the girl's spirit. Poor girl doesn’t know I’ve given her a far worse fate.
Susie Q stepped forward, her grin wide and triumphant, basking in the adoration of her peers as she arrived at the judge’s podium and held the poison chalice aloft. Its emeralds gleamed a sinister green, a beacon of victory—and of doom.
Elara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a bitter mix of relief and regret. Her lips curved up into a facsimile of a smile, though the taste of her impending end soured any triumph. For Toki, at least, the path ahead remained open, ensuring freedom from the dragon's judgment and with it the survival of the Twice legacy. That small consolation would have to suffice, for the die was cast, and the contract, once formed, could not be unsigned.
Elara navigated the throng with ease, her eyes fixed on Toki. The young manasmith stood apart, her face now covered with tears. Elara reached into the folds of her dress, retrieving her own envelope sealed with the emblem of the Twice family—a moon within a moon, a syzygy.
"Your craftsmanship speaks more than any competition could," she said, pressing the letter into Toki's hands. "This would’ve made your parents swell with pride." Elara pulled out the dragonfly endearingly.
Toki's eyes flickered, the white of her hair catching the light as she clutched the letter. A whispered "Thank you" escaped her lips, barely audible over the din. Elara offered a nod, her heart heavy with knowledge unspoken. She hugged her deeply, then left, pocketing the dragonfly once more.
The procession moved toward the dragon’s mountain amidst the fading echoes of celebration. Susie Q, draped in the aura of victory, strode with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Her bag, filled with essentials for her journey, swung at her side. Elara followed, her own pack empty, just for show.
The townspeople lined the path leading into the mountain, their faces etched with a blend of awe and sorrow. Among them stood Susie's mother, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. As her daughter passed by, she reached out, fingers brushing the fabric of Susie's cloak. A silent plea for safety and a wordless goodbye.
Susie nodded, her earlier bravado tempered by the weight of her mother's gaze. She did not look back as Elara guided her forward. Their steps were measured, deliberate, each one taking them closer to the gaping entrance of the mountain cave. Elara herself turned to see the other judges behind her. They silently bowed in salute.
"Remember, Susie Q," Elara intoned as they entered the shadow of the cavern, "your destiny was forged by your own hand. Trust in it. Keep your head high."
The cavern stretched before Elara as she turned once more, a titan's throat lined with jagged teeth of rock. Elara's heels clicked purposefully against the stone floor as she led Susie Q deeper into the bowels of the earth. The scent of brimstone seeped from cracks in the walls.
"Here," Elara announced, her voice echoing off the cavernous space overlooking a deep cliff. At the edge stood an altar, hewn from obsidian. Susie stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination. She placed her chalice on the altar, the emerald catching the dim light coming in through the open paths above and casting green shadows in a spectral dance.
"Stand back," Elara commanded with an authoritative wave of her hand. With a deep breath, she collected herself, summoning the gravitas needed for the chant. There was still hope - this dragon’s vanity was legendary.
"O Dutch Eternal, magnificent and wise," Elara began, her voice unfurling like silk and thunder. "We stand in your revered presence, humbled by your grandeur." She raised her arms high, palms open to the darkness above. Arrogant lizard, I’d slit your throat myself if I could.
"Behold the offering of Susie Q, whose hands wield the fire of creation, whose spirit burns with the ambition of ages." Elara's words crescendoed, each syllable a meticulous stroke painting Susie as a legend.
"May her talent appease your eternal hunger; may her will merge with your timeless essence." Elara spoke with all the theatricality her position demanded, each phrase calculated to also stroke the dragon's massive ego which loomed as large as its shadowy form.
"Accept this disciple into your fold, O mighty forger of destiny. Let her craft echo through the annals of time, guided by your infinite wisdom." Elara's chant filled the cavern, wrapping around the stone interior like a binding spell.
As the echoes faded, Elara locked eyes with Susie, giving her a subtle nod. The die was cast, the words spoken; now they awaited the judgment of the Dutch Eternal, whose whims would seal their fates.
Dutch Eternal’s silhouette was a mountain within the mountain, her presence dominating the cavern. She was a dragon, after all. "Heh, a trinket?" She rumbled, her voice echoing off the walls with power and disdain. "We shall see your sincerity!" Elara held her breath, not daring even a whisper. Her eyes, however, betrayed her composure, darting around the cavern in search of any sign from the titanic creature before them.
That's when Elara saw her—Toki, half-hidden in shadow, her white hair ghostly in the dark. Elara's heart clenched. The sight was a blade, twisting in her gut—the realization that the very person she had sacrificed so much to protect had ventured into the lion's den. Rather, the dragon’s maw.
"An impressive bauble, but a bauble nonetheless," the dragon rumbled, her voice causing a cascade of gravel to slide in the cavern. "We have drunk from the cups of kings and dined on the crowns of emperors. We deny your request."
Panic bubbled beneath Elara's veneer of control. How had Toki slipped past the watchful eyes of the Twice Clan? What cruel trick of fate had led her here? Elara's plan, so meticulously crafted, frayed at the edges.
"Perhaps a taste of something more... substantial is in order?" Dutch Eternal’s lips curled back to reveal rows of serrated teeth, each one a promise of oblivion.
The chamber fell silent, save for the drip of condensation from stalactites. A gasp rung out as Susie's mask of arrogance slipped, as realization dawned, revealing a glimpse of the child underneath.
With a swift motion, Dutch Eternal engulfed them in a maelstrom of wind as she inhaled. Elara's world narrowed to the horror in Toki's eyes. Elara reached out, a futile gesture, as if she could pull the girl from the precipice upon which they all teetered.
“Wai—”
And then, there was nothing but darkness—
--
The dragon’s mouth closed around Susie Q and Elara Twice.
"Grandmother," Toki whispered.
[Hidden Quest: Take revenge on Dutch Eternal. Reward commensurate with retribution]