Chapter 3: Back to Duty

A pounding knock rattled the simple wooden door of a seemingly empty house. The only furniture inside the home was made up of a small table with the plates and utensils of previous meals scattered about, and an aging bookcase covered in dust with tomes of various sizes and colors. Atop of that bookcase stood two painted frames, one of Selina Lund, and the other of Geoffrey Lund.

Knock! The sound rumbled again from the door, startling a nearby alley cat who let out a rather loud yelp. However, despite the ruckus, the simple house's black curtains remained drawn. In one room of the house rested a suit of plate mail, all dented, scarred, and a sword held aloft next to a damaged shield engraved with the symbol of a gryphon. The knock came again, this time accompanied by a shout. “Rise up already! The ninth bell had just rang, which just about marks you as the laziest bastard in this town!”

Arcturus slowly opened his eyes, instantly shutting them from the radiant light streaking in from one of the missing blinds. “I'm up. I’m up!” he shouted, his voice coarse as he tried to stifle a morbid cough that had been with him for the past days.

“You alright in there, sir? Your voice threatens to descend into a dragon’s growl if you keep that up.” came the voice.

“Oh, leave me bloody alone, Gus.” Arcturus yelled, his voice already sounding better. “It’s just a minor annoyance. Happens every morning.”

Arcturus rose from the small bed, scattering the sheets all over the place. He quickly threw on his customary brown uniform, then released a drawn-out sigh as he looked into the body-length mirror on his wall to find a grizzled looking man with pain filled eyes staring back at him. He admired the tan cloak he tossed over his shoulders, and placed a golden broach of an eagle on it. The symbol that belonged to the captain of the guards. Arcturus had been honored with this position shortly after the incident with the dragon. He scowled whenever he thought of the grisly details he endured through that day, yet more so at the implications of it. This position was supposed to be much easier. Alas, fate had a way of twisting up every now and again. Arcturus almost imagined himself home that night, in the loving embrace of his wife. And then…

Arcturus snatched up his leather belt and stowed his long sword. No time to think about that now.

“Any disturbances to report?” he asked Gus.

“We had a small theft from Petunia's, but nothing else that’s worth mentioning. The king told us to retrieve you.”

“Retrieve me? What, am I unable to find my way to him now?”

“You know that’s not what he meant, mate.”

“Yeah…I know.” Arcturus shoved on his black boots, then grabbed a piece of stale bread off of his table before opening his front door. “So the king wants to see me, you say? What would he have of me this time?”

The man standing in front of him was a portly looking guard, with chain mail one size too small. Though Arcturus kept his tongue reigned, he always felt that the man’s girth threatened to burst out of the armor at any moment.

“You look deceptively better than you sound, sir. Though I can still tell you had a rough night. Are the nightmares getting any easier?”

Arcturus’ frown was answer enough.

“Never mind that. We should turn our attention to more pressing matters. No time like the present, eh?”

“Quite so.” Arcturus grabbed a bite from the tough hunk of bread he carried. “Did the king say what he wanted?”

Gus scratched his beard. “He didn't mention that much, with your ears so far removed from his mouth. But he did make it sound urgent. Figured he must have something grand in mind for the slayer of Dread Flame.”

“You know better than to utter that creature’s name.” Arcturus grumbled, and that put an end to the discussion for now. To distract himself from the dark thoughts that prodded at his mind, Arcturus started to look to the streets, bustling with people of different races. They were all conversing or haggling with merchants in the street. The air smelled of cooking meat roasting in a menagerie of spices. Arcturus' stomach tightened as a horse-drawn carriage strode past them. It was driven by a stern-faced human in a well-kept purple suit. On the carriage was painted a black raven symbolizing the house of Raverst. Odd. They usually kept away from public roads.

Arcturus and Gus rounded a few corners, passing a number of armored guards. Each one of them pulled off a quick and crisp salute as they walked past them, to which Arcturus either bowed his head or saluted in response. He had to admit. The guard force was more efficient than ever before. Over the last two years he had the mayor retrain the guards, see them better equipped with both armor and weapons, and he even hired a couple of elven rangers to tutor the lookouts and archers on the weak spots of many beasts that could pose a threat to the town, dragons most of all. The first two weeks of that training had been amusing, as the ranger he knew whipped the soft men into shape. Arcturus’ mind focused on her stern discipline until he was pulled out of thought by a familiar voice.

“Hey Arcturus! Care for a few rounds with a friend?” shouted a man clad in dark half-plate, only lightened by the scars the armor bore. He was leaning against a stone wall adjacent to a training ring full of fledgling swordsmen. The figure appeared to be in his late twenties, with shaggy black hair that reached to his shoulders, lightened up somewhat by bright blue eyes. The man was also tall, standing at about two meters.

“Garroth!” Arcturus shouted, a small smile growing on his face. He extended his hand for a shake. “I did not think to see you here so soon. Is the whole band with you?”

Garroth grasped his hand firmly. ”Hah! The tombs were not as harrowing as those lost mines.”

“The ones plagued by ghasts?”

“The very same.” Garroth beamed.

“What in God’s sweet name is a ghast?” Gus asked, scratching his head. “Some sort of ghost made of poisonous gas?”

“A fearsome undead creature that can paralyze people with but a single touch.” Arcturus quickly replied.

“I always admire men who know their craft!” Garroth pointed at Arcturus. “Stay a while. I would share many tales of adventures with a man I’m proud to call friend!”

“Ah, I am afraid pressing matters must keep my legs moving.” Arcturus frowned. “Wish I could linger, but the king is requesting my presence. We will catch up another time.”

“Hmmph.” Garroth laughed, putting his hands on his waist. “Don't want to get in your way then, lordship!” He laughed. “Hopefully you have time later to get your accomplishments bested by an experienced adventurer.”

“Bested? When did that ever happen?”

“Hush.” Garroth whispered. “I don't want the others to know I'm beaten by a bloody captain of the guards every time. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, after all!”

“Well, if whatever the king wants is not too time consuming, I would definitely be up to hearing about your latest adventure.”

Both men wished each other the best and went off in different directions. Arcturus made his way with Gus toward the castle, while Garroth remained behind with his band of adventurers.

“Sir, who was that man?” Gus asked the moment they were out of earshot.

“Garroth? He is an adventurer that stops in from time to time. He and his lot tend to live between towns, fulfilling all sorts of quests, collecting bounties, adventuring, most of all. I spar with him every time they return to Entis.” Arcturus chuckled. “You should have seen our last contest. Garroth stumbled backwards into a Siigonis woman, I have never seen a man battered so thoroughly by one of those lizardfolk!”

Minutes passed in silence as they passed several more streets with wares and goods. Out of the corner of Arcturus' eye, he spotted a sign in the shape of a large gear. It was a shop run by a gnome woman named Matilda, who always loved to tinker with things. She was one of the best crafters ever to create swords, armor, basically everything a guard, knight, or adventurer would ever need. Gus filled the time talking about the weather, then politics with nobles, and even corraled Arcturus to the right side of the road, for in the center of this street was a stuffed head of Dread Flame thrust on a spike for all to see. Arcturus scowled at the grisly memento. He remembered the King and various others trying to convince him the dead dragon was a symbol of hope; of a brave man’s victory against unfathomable odds.

But all Arcturus saw was the constant reminder of his empty house. Thankfully, they walked rather quickly away from this dull red eyesore, heading into the docks.

The docks were located close to the floating fortresses that watched over the city. It was busy this time of day, with several vessels docked and crews unloading cargo, most likely from the eastern coast. Arcturus waved to the men he passed by, knowing many of the ship's crews. It wasn't until they passed the aviary that they stopped once again.

Gus had just started a conversation about his favorite airship to enter port. No surprise it was the RLA Destiny B, reported as the fastest ship of them all. Arcturus spotted a trio of gryphons gliding gracefully overhead with their golden wings outstretched. Entis had teams of them patrolling the city to aid the guard. Today they were being led by a woman named Elizabeth. Arcturus saw her wave a hand as the team circled back around one more time to offer him a warm and vocal greeting. The gryphons landed on their paws softly on the stone streets. Elizabeth was in the center of the others with a large smile on her face, her blonde hair tucked neatly in a bun.

“How goes the patrol, Elizabeth? I trust Swift Wing there hasn't been up to his usual mischief,” Arcturus said, gesturing to the gryphon.

“Your wounds hurt me such, human,” protested the gryphon, his voice a tad high pitched.

“Oh, don’t furrow your feathers over his words, Swifty.” Elizabeth said, petting the gryphon on his head. “The captain’s jokes are known to miss their mark more than they find it.” Elizabeth returned her green eyes to Arcturus who couldn’t help but smile at the jape. “New ship came in this morning, quite a big thing. What was the name again George?” she turned to a strong built human guard atop an earthy brown furred gryphon that had teal tipped wings. The man raised a brown leather gauntlet to his chin in thought.

“There’s none bigger and stronger than the Indomitous!” he said with a grin. “Lots of soldiers on board of that hulking beast. If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone is gearing up for an important task.”

“Maybe Rothdell finally got the guts to push us back?” asked the third guard, who was easily smaller than George and hd the face of a young recruit.

“I don't think those silk-wearing, finger twiddling spell-weavers will make any meaningful progress while we are around.” laughed Elizabeth. “Our ships are powerful enough on their own, and the gryphons only reinforce our strength. We are blessed to have such stalwart allies at our side.” she added as Swift Wing looked to start a fuss. “Well Arcturus, as nice as it is speaking to you, it’s time we returned to the sky. Fare you well.” The group gave a quick salute before their gryphons spread their wings and swiftly returned to the busy air above.

“They’re quite something when you see them take to formations.” Arcturus observed.

“Did you ever consider joining the air patrol, sir?” Gus asked as the two men resumed their walk towards the castle. “It might do you good to have a partner by your side. Or under you. When you’re in the air, that is. Because the saddle- gods I’m just getting deeper in my own pit, aren’t I?”

“Tends to happen when the tongue gets ahead of the head.” Arcturus laughed.

“I would be in your debt if you don’t mention this to Garroth. That man looks perilous.”

Arcturus laid a hand on Gus’ shoulder. “Worry not, my friend. What we talk remains between us. As for riding a gryphon...the appeal is lost to me when I have so many years of experience leading troops. I am used to have land under my feet, not bare, empty air. If you are interested, I can put in a good word for you. Get you trained by the best, only that you have to loosen a bit of that girth you don’t want your gryphon to fall out of the sky.”

“That would be fantastic!” Gus exclaimed. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, sir. Train harder. Move more. And…try to take it easier with the meals. Graaaah! The hardest mission of all, eh? With so many quality inns around I’m surprised the king himself isn’t a tad portlier.”

Arcturus smiled. “You have an exciting future ahead of you, Gus. Though I am afraid you won’t be so grateful when the time comes to get acquainted with your gryphon. They are as picky as they look, and quite needy if my memory serves.”

“I don't care what it takes to bond with a gryphon. I just want to soar upon the winds, free like a bird.” Gus closed his eyes. “Would be the experience of a life time sir. And-and of course my appreciation will extend to the gryphon. I don’t just want to borrow its wings, you know. A partner. That’s all I ever wanted. To have someone to share my happiness with. I was always a bit jealous of your squads, sir. The men look up to you. Respect you. Obey you without question, while I’m…I’m just a simple guardsman…”

“Not for much longer.” Arcturus draped his arm over the man’s neck. “I might’ve not been able to help everybody, but I will see you ascend to the skies, Gus. You have my word.”

The man could barely keep his eyes from tearing up, so he kept on discussing gryphons as they walked past many stores, inns, bars, and brothels, until they finally stood outside the great stone gates of the castle. The walls had been carved by the most skilled dwarves ages ago. They also engraved runes every few feet as a mark of their craftsmanship, along with scratches. Arcturus recalled the stories that spoke of dragons that laid waste to the city. In its darkest hour, the city summoned its bravest heroes, who stood up against the tide of darkness and protected these very walls with their lives. Between the walls was a very large wooden gate painted with a mural of a mountainside, where a large snowy gryphon spread its broad wings. On the gate's top, Arcturus could make out six guards standing at attention, ready to give alarm if anything out of the ordinary threatened the city.

“Hail, paladin!” shouted one of the guards clad in polished half plate mail. The man wore a barbute helmet adorned with gold that marked him as part of the king’s royal guard.

Arcturus had only been to the castle a few times in his lifetime. Once when he was still a child, during his knighthood, when he obtained the position of a knight, when he ascended to the paladin rank, then finally after he had slain Dread Flame, the biggest menace known to the city at that point. Each time, he remembered the small dose of pride he carried within his soul, although the same exhilarating feeling eluded him on the fateful days after the dragon’s fall. Arcturus had nothing pleasant to think about. Even now he struggled to keep the dragon’s smirk out of his mind, the dead bodies, his son’s whispers as he gave out his very last breath.

Arcturus shook his head and focused on the guards as a smaller door in the gate cracked open, right below the painted gryphon.

“Come on, you blasted thing!” came a struggled shout from behind the door. “Put your backs into it, men, and haul this bastard up before the paladin has words with you!”

With a struggled grunt, the door swung open and two guards fell through, onto the ground.

“There we go, paladin,” said one of the humans, dusting himself off. “That damn thing gets stuck from time to time. Apologies you had to see us like this.”

“A thing of no consequence.” Arcturus replied quickly. He remembered that each time he had visited the castle, the door always posed a problem or two. If there was ever a symbol for the things royalty did not care about, this was clearly below their notice.

From the opened door emerged an old man clad in orange robes adorned with runes. The robes easily draped over his body to cover his feet, and dragged behind him on the stone. Upon the man’s waist circled a brown leather belt with many bottles held by straps, spaced carefully so they did not rattle together as he walked. His hair was grey and cut thin to hide his receding hairline. He smiled with bright white teeth in the middle of a grey beard that seemed to devour his face, though even amongst all that hair his eyes remained clear and full of kindness.

“Arcturus!” said the man. “I can see you took your sweet time coming here. Luckily, the king has been very busy this morning and barely noticed your tardiness.”

“Fortune finally hears my prayers, Father Devlin.” Arcturus sighed in relief, in spite of the joke. The last thing he needed was an angry royal, especially the king.

Arcturus had many dealings with father Devlin during his time as the leader of the order of knights and paladins that served Lumara. He also acted as one of the king’s advisors in spiritual matters.

“Come, come. We must see Cornelius at once. You are of course well aware that the matters we have to discuss are of great importance. However...ummmm.” He gestured to Gus. “Guard.....ummmm..”

“You sent me to find him.” Gus said, “By the light, has my name eluded you again?”

Devlin put up his hand to silence Gus. “Hmm, don’t give up on this enlightened mind just yet. Mhhhmmm…something with a K, right?”

Gus shook his head, then Devlin’s eyes lit up. “Ken…Kenvar…no, Peter!!” he exclaimed. “Ah yes. Peter! Well, the maters at hand are only for our ears only, so you will have to excuse us.”

“Very well, although my name is not Peter.” Gus insisted.

“Wh-what?” Devlin stroke his beard, as if lost in thought. “I could’ve sworn I knew your name better than I know my own beard. Hmm, how curious. It just slipped away from my mind. Might you refresh my memory, please?” asked Devlin, crossing his arms.

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“It's Gus!”

“Well that is a terrible name!” the old man said. “No wonder I forgot it. Now, if your parents had named you something simple, like Peter, I'd have remembered it, of course.”

“Yeah…I bet.” Gus just sighed and rolled his eyes. With a quick goodbye Gus, walked off back to the town.

“Alright now, where were we?” Devlin turned to Arcturus, placing his two palms together. “Oh yes, I was telling Griff there that king Cornelius wanted to talk to you about a little town on our North Western border.”

Arcturus sighed. He was led from the main gate to the castle’s inner halls. Father Devlin kept getting lost in his own conversation, often forgetting who had told him what and half remembering tales. Arcturus feigned attention as they made their way through the well decorated halls. They had been adorned with rugs of various colors, artwork from different ages and kings, and antique armor and weapons. The halls were much cooler inside, much different than the last time he had been here. Noticing the paladin’s expression, Devlin mentioned a cooling spell took effect ever since the king complained about the heat. Arcturus sniffed the air and found a very pleasing aroma laying about. The air smelled of roasted ham, probably being prepared for the upcoming meal. His stomach rumbled as he remembered the exquisite meal he had at his paladin promotion. His mouth began to water as it had been the best meal of his life. It had a bed of vegetables that put any other dish to shame, coupled with wines from all over the continent. Arcturus tried to keep a stern face even as his stomach rumbled like a dragon’s throat. He didn’t want Devlin to think him unshackled, acting upon instincts like those beasts.

“Hungry, are we?” laughed Devlin, “I'll suggest the cook to whip you up something before you go. We can’t have our mighty paladin fall prey to starvation, can we?”

“Much appreciated.” Arcturus nodded quickly. He found the walk to the king’s audience chamber much shorter than it had ever been. He was brought through a well-made sturdy oak door that looked like it never gathered a speck of dust on it. Past the door stretched a long hall with two large windows that allowed the viewer to look down upon the city. Various other doors that led to different wings of the castle spread like a spider’s web along the hall. Two thrones sat in the center of the hall, raised up on a section of stone steps. Behind the thrones was a large brown flag with the symbol of Lumara on it. King Cornelius sat on the right throne, a small crown with jewels atop his raven black hair that reached his shoulders. He was currently wearing navy blue silk clothes, and stared with his emerald eyes towards a kneeling soldier in plate mail. Cornelius picked up a sword and placed it on each of the soldier’s shoulders, one slowly after the other. There was a collection of onlookers that looked at the ceremony with pride on their faces.

“Now recite the paladin's oath.” The king said to the woman before him.

“As a paladin, I am sworn to valor. My heart will know only virtue, my blade will defend the helpless, my might will uphold the weak, my word will speak only truth, and my wrath will undo the wicked.” the woman said a smile growing on her face.

“Then rise, lady Elwin, and take your place alongside Lumara's paladins.” said Cornelius as he sheathed his gleaming sword.

Elwin stood proudly with the smile that occupied most of her face. Arctutus got to shake her hand as the other group of guests bombarded her with praises and cheers. Arcturus was reminded of his own ceremony, of Selina running over to him, hugging him deeply as tears of happiness cascaded down her perfect cheeks. Now he felt all alone, staring emptily ahead as the guests drained out of the room.

Cornelius made his way over to Arcturus. “If it isn’t my favorite paladin!” he clapped a hand on Arcturus' shoulder. “My heart soars to see you again, Arcturus. Tales of your valor are not enough to explain what you’ve done for our city. The way you’ve plunged your blade through that monster’s eye…tell me again how it felt to end the beast’s life.”

“Good.”

The king shrugged at the lifeless reply he got. “Good? That’s all? Hardly inspires the same courage I hear in the taverns!”

Arcturus had nothing to say. Even the king noticed his brooding mood, so he looked past Arcturus to the departing guests. “You know what I love most about these celebrations? Each one is a chance to get another one like you! Now imagine what we can achieve if I have a full squad of heroes like you; men who fell from the sky, who overcame crippling injuries, who ended dragons ten times bigger than them!”

Noticing Arcturus' silence, the king quickly shifted his feet and led Arcturus over to the window overlooking Entis. “Alas, mere talk of better times is not why you are here.” Cornelius turned toward Arcturus as his face grew stern. “We received word of a dragon that’s flying loose around one of our villages.” Cornelius sighed. “The beast has destroyed a house, kidnapped a little girl, and burned our valiant guards to cinders.” he waved his hand. “The beast’s foul deeds are all written in the report if you want to glance over it.”

Arcturus felt his hands tighten up. “Why me, sire? Surely you can find another slayer who can go after the beast.”

“Ah, but that’s the problem. Arcturus is but one man.”

“A man who’s had his fill of dragons!” Arcturus immediately lowered his voice. “Apologies. I have overstepped.”

The king's eyes filled with pity. Arcturus remembered those eyes from the night Dread Flame attacked. “I am aware of what that monster took from you Arcturus. I would not wish this fate to befall anyone. It is a cruel, cruel thing to watch your own family wither before your eyes…” The king looked back to the city. “But for this task I would have no other man. Your legacy lives in you! Your family is the best at hunting down the vile monsters that darken our world and steal the smiles off our children’s faces. I shudder to think of what else we can lose if another dragon happens upon the city.”

The king turned back towards Arcturus. “Please. Before you make your decision, think of the families that live in that village, robbed off their guards, crippled by fear. Would they deserve a second-rate hunter to deliver them from the terror of the monster that haunts their nights?” The king tilted his head to the side, causing Arcturus to shake his head. “If our man fails to accomplish his task, everyone in that village will die. Dragons are not merciful like we are, and when provoked…well, you’ve seen first hand the gruesome things they are capable of.”

Despite knowing the king as a friend, Arcturus admired how well Cornelius understood him. He was a man that saw the spirit, not the armor and flesh that made a man who he was.

“What kind of dragon are we talking about? I would have more than vague mentions.” Arcturus said.

“The beast is said to have scales of fire, with piercing eyes of sapphire.”

“A fire-breathing dragon, then?” Arcturus said coolly. “This cannot be a mere coincidence.”

“Exactly what I’m afraid of. This whelp can belong to DreadFlame’s clutch, seeking vengeance in the name of his father.”

Arcturus gritted his jaws so hard they hurt, focusing to try and wipe his mind of the image of Dread Flame looming menacingly over him. “That is a risk we cannot take. What resources will I have to bring the beast down?”

“I want you to assemble a team of apt men.” Cornelius waved a hand. “Do not even think about the price, I want only the best to accompany you in this task. We will be assigning a vessel to you as well. The Indomitous carries a dozen men and has enough firepower to slay dozens of these beasts. I shall have it placed in your command, to do as you see fit.”

Arcturus nodded. The ship would definitely come in handy, especially with its beam cannons. “As for the men, I will need a team of shieldguards, or a party of adventurers who know at least the basics of dragon slaying, fire resistant armors and ropes, energy crossbows, and traps.”

Cornelius clapped his hands together. “Done! Although there is something else I would ask of you. Something that might make your task a bit more difficult.”

“What?” Arcturus asked.

“I want the beast brought back alive.”

“Alive?!” Arcturus exclaimed in shock, a little angrier than he intended. “It was hard enough to slay Dread Flame, and now you want me to bring his offspring all the way here?”

Cornelius raised a hand. “I merely wish for my citizens to see that even a dragon cannot stand up to the might of our army. They have lived in fear of dragons long enough for superstitions to run rampant through the taverns. We need to quench the rumors that dragons are stronger than us, Arcturus.”

“Didn't they get a taste of a dragon’s pain when I slew Dread Flame two years ago?”

“Ah yes, of course they did,” Cornelis spoke quickly. “But between you and I.” the king placed a hand over his mouth and spoke in a whisper, “Morale has been wavering lately, and we need to reinforce the belief that our city stands strong no matter what creature smashes itself against our walls. I believe this vile beast’s capture, and eventual humiliation, will provide us exactly what we need, not to mention we will make it answer for the hundreds of crimes it and its vile kin committed against our people. We shall hold trial, then perhaps…a public gathering to witness the beast’s helplessness first hand. I would look into its teary eyes as it squirms for freedom, and deny it, over and over again, until every flicker of fight leaves its body.”

“Your word, my hands.” Arcturus nodded sternly.

“Excellent!” The king cheered. “I will pick the best men for the job. I suggest you pack with haste, for you will leave immediately. Now let Delvin and I discuss your supplies.”

“As you wish, sire.”

“Hunt well, Arcturus. We’ll shake hands when the beast stands on our soil!”

Arcturus began to leave, but was stopped by a firm hand from father Devlin, who thrust a scroll into his hands.

“All of the information you will need, Arcturus.” He smiled. “I know you won’t let us down.”

Arcturus nodded, and wished the two farewell as he made his way out of the castle and back to the city below. As he walked, he unwrapped the manila colored scroll, avoiding the other people, careful to side step around the numerous obstructions that arose in his path. His eyes were drawn to the name of the village in question, Deet. Arcturus stopped and tried to remember why the village sounded so familiar to him. He thought for a moment before it came to him. A while ago, he had swayed the village leaders at the time to join Lumara rather than stand in their way. Arcturus frowned as he remembered the clang of steel and the smell of death that the conflict with Rothdell had brought. He placed the grisly war back into his mind as he continued to read the scroll in his hands. He noticed that the report revealed the testimonies of the present guards and the rough description of the red dragon. The image of a great dragon with sharp teeth, razor like claws, and terrible fire filled his mind. He looked up to get that image out of his head, barely avoiding a sign that was shaped like a gear. Arcturus quickly rolled up the parchment and opened the bronze covered door of the building.

Immediately, his nose was assaulted with the smell of oil, burning fumes, and something he did not recognize but of an equally gruesome tint. The room was filled with knickknacks and devices whose purposes were lost on a man like him; a mere warrior who wore the armor crafted by wiser hands. Some were small in all various shapes roughly the size of his palm, while some dangled from the ceiling with multiple limbs that looked more like a giant spider than any metal thing he had ever seen. With his first step into the cluttered place, a bell chimed rather loudly, even louder than the sound of gears that filled the room.

“I'll be with you in a moment!” came a high-pitched voice that definitely belonged to a female, which he instantly recognized as Matilda's.

With a small explosion from the back room, a burst of smoke, and toppling of what was most likely a stool, a small woman entered covered in soot, cursing silently under her breath. She was a gnome, goggles strapped to her onyx hair. Her face was not too old, but had lines of late nights and signs of experience. What started as a neutral expression on her face turned into a warm smile at the sight of the man that entered her shop.

“Arcturus my dear! You should have said it was you!” she exclaimed, “I mistook you for dear ole Fergus that came to remind me to fix his darn glasses.” She turned to a cylinder-like device on the wall, and pulled its brass handle. “Care for some tea?” she said, grabbing two cups. There were small wisps of steam rolling up from the surface of the liquid.

“Some other time, perhaps. I came to check on the armor you were making for me. The mission I am embarking upon requires your exquisite craft.”

Matilda had a frown flash across her face for a second before placing the tea cups back and clapping her hands together with a smile. “You know… I totally forgot to send word about that. Can't tell you how many things I tend to forget these days.” She laughed, grabbing his hand and starting to pull him towards the back room. “Come oooon! You’ve got to see it! The armor is all finished and in pristine condition. Come, come!”

Arcturus followed Matilda as she tugged him into the next room. He was always surprised by the strength she always showed, much greater than her size led to believe. She led him down a hallway, down some wooden steps, into a well-lit basement. Arcturus had to look twice to the torches that lit the place to observe that, instead of fire, stood small mana crystals. Matilda stopped before the suit of armor, a white sheet draped over it. She let go of his hands and clasped the sheet with her small fingers. “Presenting, one of a kind, Matilda's Marvelous Mechanical Production!” she then pulled free the sheet, letting it fall to the ground to reveal her marvelous creation.

It was a set of full plate bearing no marks of a particular house or even a crafter. It was metallic silver that perfectly reflected the room around them, with a barbute helm that had its visor down.

“Well, what do you think?” Matilda asked, her voice shuddering with pride. “Is she not the most beautiful suit of armor your eyes have ever seen?”

“It looks…outstanding! But doesn't it look exactly like my suit of armor back at home? The similarities are quite…how to put it? Rather…striking, one would say.”

“NO! No, they’re neither this or that!” Matilda shouted, her brow scrunching up in anger. “That's an insult if I ever heard one so vile. Armor is not like a dress, to judge with eyes alone! Pick up a piece and feel it before you start babbling about!” She crossed her arms and began to mutter to herself.

Arcturus took the armguards off the suit and felt them in his hand. They were smooth to the touch, slightly cold, and missing buckles for the black leather straps. He noticed a small gear engraving near the elbow. “Why didn't you include any buckles? How could it possibly fit me? And what makes it so light?”

“The paladin finally realizes the armor’s intricate beauty.” Matilda said, the smile returning to her face. “Infused the metal with mithril. Makes it light as a feather but harder than steel. As for your straps problem,” she laughed, “try pressing the gear and see what happens.”

Arcturus did what Matilda said, and found the leather straps hanging loose. He looked to Matilda who held up a hand and waved for him to continue. His fingers grazed the engraving to find blue runes light up all over the armor as it started to segment and shape itself to his arm. The leather straps receded until they fit firm, but not too tight to feel uncomfortable. The hand portion conformed to the exact fit of his hand, with segmented plates forming over his fingers much like the scales of a dragon. Arcturus clenched his hand into a fist, amazed that he could hardly feel the armor at all. “This is amazing!” he said, turning to his friend. “How could you achieve something like this?”

“Just a special order from a friend. Who wouldn’t want a self-fitting armor that hardly weighs a thing? Plus, it’s also resistant to fire, which makes it the most desired item against dragons and what not.” Matilda blurted out so fast Arcturus barely understood what she said.

“Whoa…this must have cost way more than I paid.” he said softly.

“Think nothing of it. Or better, consider it a gift from a friend.” said Matilda.

“Thank you.” he smiled. “I…don’t know what else to say other than how amazing you are when you put your tools to the right purpose.”

“I knoooow!” Matilda giggled. “But I’m curious about one thing. What will you be using it for?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s dragons, right? Actually, I really hope it’s something else, but y’know, fire breathing and all…”

Arcturus' smile vanished from his face. “The king wants me to hunt down a dragon that might or might not be one of Dread Flame’s offspring.”

Matilda let out a small gasp.

“Alive.”

She gasped again.

“Yeah…I had the same reaction, minus the gasping. Cornelius wants to make an example out of the beast. To remind the city that we are more than scared rats waiting for a dragon to swoop down upon us.”

“He isn’t wrong. Many people still talk about the night when…you know…anyway, where is this vile creature?” she asked. “Have any whereabouts of its location?”

Arcturus sighed. “A small village to the north-western border. It’s a red, just like…you know. Probably male, though I don’t know for certain until I find it.”

“What if it’s not?”

“What, male?”

“Mhm!” Matilda nodded her head. “Females are worse at fighting, right? Easier to catch.”

“Hardly,” Arcturus found himself chuckle. “Male or female, it will be a struggle to subdue it without making full use of our arsenal. Our king would not have the beast expire before he has the chance to parade it through the city as a symbol of human endurance in the face of their greatest enemy, so we have to be gentle in how we capture it.”

“That’s twisted.” Matilda scrunched her face.

“I know, but in a weird way, I believe Cornelius is right,” Arcturus said. “These beasts prey on fear and deceit. If we show the people of this city that we can stand up to them, maybe…we can win this war.”

“Maybe.”

Arcturus had to admit, for a person that was shocked to learn about another dragon attack, Matilda recovered rather quickly. The witty gnome put her hands on her hips and started bossing him around. For several minutes, she showed him how to put each piece of his armor on until she soon found herself smacking his armored back plate out the door.

“Be careful now! You best not let that dragon scratch you too much, or kill you!” she shouted to him. “I have a reputation to keep!”

“Don't worry, I don't intend to do any dying anytime soon!” He laughed back to her, placing the helmet on his head.

Arcturus returned to his house to gather his belongings. He figured the king would supply what he requested, so Arcturus picked up his leather pack, a black belt with a small pack of marbles, a brown cloak with the symbol of a paladin stitched into it -an eagle holding a sword in one claw and a book in the other, then his scabbard. He latched that one to his belt before gathering up his trusty sword. Arcturus gave it a few practice swings, feeling the familiar grip and warmth spread to his fingertips.

I can’t believe I’m doing this again, he thought, then grabbed his energy crossbow, placing it in a holster strapped to his right side.

With that done, Arcturus walked over to his cabinet. He looked quickly through the cupboards to find two vials of semi-clear red liquid inside of them. He closed his eyes and thought to Selina and Geoffrey. How he wished he had one of these when he had returned home. He gave a small sigh before he placed the potions carefully in a pouch on his belt labeled with a small red caduceus. The last thing he grabbed before shoving a hundred feet of rope into his pack was his sacred shield, swinging the thing over his shoulder by the leather strap before buckling it.

With his gear in place, Arcturus prepared to head out, then stopped when he saw a picture of Selina, looking as if to wish him farewell, like she had always done in the past.

“Oh, my dear, beloved wife…what has the world come to?” He sighed, picking up the picture carefully. He could feel his heart begin to ache painfully, so he gently set the memento down and looked away,

“Why do I keep these things when they only serve to torment me?” He said to himself aloud. “The past is already written. There’s nothing I can do to change it…except look towards the future.” A stern frown took hold of the paladin’s face. “Don't worry, my heart,” he said softly as he turned walk out of his home, “I will hunt that dragon down and make sure he gets exactly what he deserves for his heinous crimes.”

Arcturus grabbed the knob of his door, finding that it felt a tad different than what he got used to. He felt a small tingle start at the base of his feet, slowly working its way up his leg, along his spine, and finally to his head. He turned his head back to look at the place he called home, wondering if this would be the last time he would ever set eyes upon it.

“Farewell.” Arcturus said, then took upon the road with brisk steps.

His walk to the docks was anything but slow. Though a few people called his name or saluted him, nobody got in his way. Arcturus looked to the sky. The sun started to fall over the western mountains, casting a long shadow over anything it touched. Orange and red clouds stretched across the sky. Arcturus remembered his mother had told him that these were a sign of tough roads ahead. He had argued with her so fiercely. After all, how could something so beautiful bring trouble and strife? She just chuckled and picked his brain further. Arcturus had replied without missing a beat that it meant good luck, fortune, and anything your heart longed for.

How quickly those times had passed. It almost felt like yesterday, when he ate a warm meal together with his wife, when he heard the joyous laughter of his child…

Arcturus was brought out of his memory when the clamor intensified around him. He was already at the docks, and the ship laying in front of his eyes was one of the largest vessels that he had ever seen. She stretched out at least twice as large as the first Destiny had been, with large propellers hanging off her, unmoving slabs of metal standing vigilant until they were called to spring her aloft into the sky.

The Indomitous was painted brown like all vessels of Lumara, with a mural of a gryphon at the front of her port and starboard sides. Atop her deck stood at least twelve shining energy cannons with numerous crew members shuffling about in dark brown uniforms. The ship had a ramp stretching down from her midsection to the dock below. From the ramp came a group of humans clad in dark red leathers, swords strapped to their belts, crossbows at the hip, and shields around their backs.

After a quick introduction, the soldiers picked up their collective things and boarded the vessel in silence. Arcturus was the last one to climb the ramp, knowing the worry he spotted on their faces. No matter the supplies, no matter the experience a soldier had, few things could prepare you for the encounter with a dragon. Arcturus had been lucky in that regard. He grew up learning about dragons, even if most of those teachings focused on the various ways to end a dragon’s life. When it came his turn to face a beast like that, Arcturus was far from afraid. He thought to the long grueling days of training filled with many aches, cuts, and bruises, a journey that led him to this day, when he would put another dent in Dread Flame’s legacy.

“Excuse me.”

Arcturus turned to an aged man with a scant amount of hair on his head. To him, it looked as if the hair had simply migrated to the man’s mustache. The man twirled the bushy thing that seemed to take up the majority of his face.

The man held out his rough hand, easily dwarfing Arcturus' hand. “It is truly an honor to be in your presence, sir. And to work with you, of course.”

“Likewise...Captain,” Arcturus looked for the man's rank on his collar.

“Fredrick Ruthgar.” The man said, his barrel of a chest swelling with pride. “Captain of the Indomitous, with over a dozen victories over Rothdell at the helm.”

A silence filled the air, as he expected Arcturus to be clapping or cheering. He soon coughed into his fist.

“Anyway, let me show you to your quarters, paladin. We have quite the journey ahead of us, eh?”

“It’s not the first time I’m sent to hunt down a dragon.”

“And probably not the last,” Frederick added. “Rest. I would have your mind sharp for when the time comes to face the beast.”

Arcturus allowed the captain to lead him below the deck, his mind as silent as his lips. The engines of the ship started purring. A strange sense of serenity washed over him. With Frederick in charge of an experienced crew, Arcturus felt liberated of the burden of choice. As he lay in his bed, his mind ventured not to the beast, but to the vast skies his ship threaded upon, a realm far removed from the torment he suffered in the city that became smaller and smaller with each passing moment.