“None may place a requirement upon my companion.” Gruna reiterated, as the two small figures followed in the wake of the dragon climbing across the terrain.
Phoebe was still completely lost in it all. What made things worse, was that Gruna seemed to be taking everything in stride. As if destiny and the world reaching out with magic was just something that happened every day.
“No one.”
Drektanion seemed entirely content to ignore Gruna. Which Phoebe supposed made a lot of sense. It wasn’t as if her holy knight could actually so much as scratch his scales.
It did make her wonder just how strong Gruna’s master had been, before he fell. That thought made her wonder where they were headed, now. A dragon showing up at a city’s doorstep seemed a bad idea, especially if he had a history of murdering people.
“You cannot force any destiny upon her, not by prophecy, belief, or stubborn arrogance!” Gruna roared.
For all her protests, Gruna did seem to acknowledge she was as powerless as Phoebe was. The two of them were following Drek across the mountain. Not even the orc was up for telling the dragon that he was headed the wrong way.
Phoebe turned her attention to the ever-changing landscape. Ignoring the stress of witches and dragons, the sky was beautiful. It was highlighted in hues of rose and gold, as the sun thought about setting, ever so slowly.
They were headed up a mountain, and the valley down below was like none she had ever seen. It looked like a scene that belonged to an advertisement for Cairns. Crystal pools everywhere, waterfalls cascading down sharp cliffs, bursting out into rainbows as they struck the rocks below.
If it weren’t for the dragon ruining everything, Phoebe might still be thinking of this as a dream. Something beautiful and sweet, no matter how she’d actually met Gruna.
She looked at the angry knight, and reached over, taking their hand and squeezing it. They gave the edge of a smile, but kept their gaze fixed on the creature leading them both through the mountains.
Gruna was… Phoebe wasn’t sure exactly what to think about Gruna. The knight was stiff, and spoke more often in growls than her higher more natural voice. The one she used when she was amused by Phoebe being inept at something else. The softer one that really told you how kind the woman was beneath the armour.
She was a knight, her entire career was about being stronger and tougher than everything in the shadows. All the same, Phoebe found herself wishing that she could see more of the woman beneath it all. The one who decided to put aside a lifelong pursuit of vengeance, just to help out a lost stranger.
Phoebe did have a question she wanted to ask, but she knew that if she did ask it, that it could very likely ruin whatever budding friendship was between them.
Had Gruna chosen to stay with her, just because they always tried to care for the world? Or had they done it because they knew Phoebe was some special witch or whatever? Someone this world was shoving a destiny onto.
If she asked, and Gruna had done it out of the kindness of her heart, then there wouldn’t be much more kindness to come.
Phoebe frowned as they continued upwards, surprised to find she could feel the air getting thinner. Just how far up the mountain were they going? She’d never climbed a mountain in her life. She’d barely spent time in the country, she was a city girl.
“Be wary.” Gruna spoke through gritted teeth, though she did seem to be breathing just fine. “We climb towards the Eyrie of the Dragons. A place forgotten by most, and known by few. It is not a place where any now dwell, a place some consider to be haunted.”
“What?”
“It is the graveyard of my people.”
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Phoebe stumbled, not just from surprise of Drektanion speaking, but because his voice dislodged a bunch of pebbles that bounced and tumbled. They peppered her legs and slipped under her feet on the way past.
It was only after that she fully processed what he’d said. Phoebe felt her mouth go dry, “Will you be buried here, one day?”
“Your first instinct was correct. It is not a graveyard.” The dragon rumbled, his tail dropping violently to drag along the ground.
Phoebe cringed, wishing she was wrong, and that he was wrong about what she thought. Even though she knew the truth of it.
“I am the last of my people. This is where they died.”
Gruna looked up, her mouth moving silently as she offered up a prayer. Phoebe almost joined her. It seemed appropriate in a time and place like this. Unfortunately, she was still having trouble breathing, so found herself focusing more on that.
The fog closed in rapidly, until Phoebe could barely see the swishing of Drektanion’s tail. Drifting back and forth in the cloud cover as he walked. Gruna was a lot easier to see - and not just because she was still staying by Phoebe’s side.
The orc’s eyes weren’t just a bright emerald. They glowed through the fog, lit up from within like nothing that Phoebe had ever seen before. Not like LEDs or torchlight. It was something that felt more primal, more natural.
As the air left Gruna’s mouth it lit up, highlighting the luminescence, a deeper and deeper colour with every step towards the Eyrie, the site of a massacre of ancient beasts that Phoebe was struggling to understand could even be hurt, let alone killed - and on such a scale.
She didn’t want to ask what had happened. That’d be worse than asking a 9/11 survivor why they had problems with airplanes. You just had to accept it and move on. Everyone was allowed to have a few scars, trauma happens to us all. One way or another. You don’t have to ask.
As quickly as the fog arrived, Phoebe found herself walk right out of it. She found herself in a courtyard, standing on carved stone. Every brick of it depicting a symbol, like it was from some sort of language, like Mandarin or maybe kanji, but she didn’t recognise any of them - and even more, as she looked around she realised not a single one of the symbols repeated.
In the middle of the courtyard was a shallow pool, made from a large bowl. It was filled with ice, cracked but clear, not water. It stretched at least fifty meters across. Somewhere for the new arrivals to rest, Phoebe guessed. New draconic arrivals.
There were no buildings that she could see, instead there were places that looked comfortable for large creatures to rest. Carved poles, lying at angles, so that the dragon could rest in an elevated position, or small nests of carved and burnt wood.
“You are the second orc to set foot here. The first human.”
Phoebe looked at him with concern, “Why… Are we here?”
“You.”
She flinched, and Gruna stepped in front of her, placing one hand on the polearm of the axe. “I do not wish to draw my weapon in so holy a place as this, but I will not hesitate if you make it necessary, Drektanion.”
“Drek… Just… Drop the mystery. The fuck is going on?” Phoebe swallowed.
The dragon gave a small laugh, and sat down in front of them, his tail idly playing back and forth behind him. He considered the two of them for a moment, and then lifted his head towards the side of the mountain. “The answers you seek, lie within.”
“I don’t want any answers. I wanna get home.” Phoebe stated firmly.
“You seek to understand your destiny. There is a cave here. Enter.”
Gruna relaxed a little, “Such things as destiny are not always worth pursuing with this determination.”
“Enter.” Drektanion repeated.
Phoebe shrugged, “Well… If you’re not telling me anything… Not like I have a lot to lose. A cave, you said?”
“Yes.”
She rolled her eyes at his failure to describe where it was, and walked over towards the side of the courtyard, looking in confusion at the tall stone archway that was… Only tall to her. It couldn’t even fit Drek’s head.
“Didn’t he say only one other orc, and no humans, have been here?” Phoebe whispered.
Gruna shrugged, “I do not like this. Were he not such a physical force to deal with, I would endeavour to continue on our decided path. Unfortunately… I must admit I am no dragon slayer. Not yet.”
Phoebe touched the wall of dirt inside the arch, “He did say a cave, though. I don’t see any cave. Is it… Like… A magic entrance? I ain’t no spellcaster. Not ever intending on learning, either. I’m not a witch.”
Gruna chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing, “Your considerations are quite adorable. However, I require no such thing. You are a witch, and have little choice in the manner. I never wished to be an orc, but must remain so.”
“You didn’t want to be an orc?”
The woman shrugged, “Few of the race would seek the role of any holy order. Yet, that has always been my determination. Aside, I do not believe this to be a thing of magic. May I?”
Phoebe shrugged, and Gruna let go of her and punched in a single movement. The armour on her shoulder shook as the air in front of Gruna’s fist turned into a violent shockwave, before the dirt tumbled backwards and revealed a hollow and black cave.
Gruna entered without a second thought, her eyes lighting up. Phoebe considered asking for a torch, but as she did, the flame on her collar danced out in front of her, hovering slightly above and to the left.
She shot a glare at it and shuffled into the cave, whispering to herself, “I’m not a fucking witch.”