The sage looked at the broken staff in her hand with immense disappointment. She should’ve known this would happen. It always did. And yet, for some reason, she believed this time would be different. After all, the spell she used to suck the heat out of that blaze before it spread to the rest of the forest was hardly that advanced. It was, in fact, the most basic incantation at her disposal, and also the very first spell she ever learned as an apprentice. It was so unapologetically simple that its name literally translated to ‘Fire One’ in the common tongue, and its only practical application was to ignite flammable materials. Well, unless one knew how to alter the spell so it did the opposite, which was what the adventurer had done. The result of her expedient handiwork was a field of grass and trees that were frozen completely solid despite the near-total lack of moisture.
In retrospect, she probably should’ve powered down first, though in her defense she was a bit distracted by how shitty this day had been. First she had to walk all the way out here, then a bunch of idiots tried to mug her, and to top it all off, a blasted dragon came after her. Travel, stupidity, and pests - the three things she hated most. Looking back now, it was definitely irresponsible of her to channel the same amount of power she used to detonate a dragon into putting out a wildfire. Indeed, with the benefit of hindsight, it was obvious her arcane focus would break. No staff carved by mortal hands could withstand that sort of output for more than a few moments, hence why she carried so many cheap spares.
Oh, well. These things happened. The traveler lazily tossed the burnt-out tool to the side and got busy readjusting her yellow coat and the dusty bandages underneath. People were going to stare at her anyway, but she preferred it be for her exotic garb than the scars underneath. Once she was sure her skin was as covered up as possible, she found her way back to the road and continued on her way. The moronic muggers were thankfully nowhere to be found, and the sage was more than happy to pretend she never saw them. She was here to do a job, and bandit-wrangling wasn’t on her to-do list. Though, there really wasn’t much for her to do. The fire dragon drawn out by the scent of her magic-rich blood was the obvious cause of Ascot Village’s recent troubles. Now that it was reduced to a collection of charred body parts, the villagers no longer had to worry about their cattle being taken in the night and the climate in the region would return to normal in a week or two. The only thing left was to report to the mayor and hopefully hitch a ride back to town on a cart.
So, the adventurer wasted no more time and walked into the settlement at a brisk pace. It was fifty-fifty whether the simple folk would greet her with fear and ignorance, or roll out whatever counted as the red carpet around these parts. The sage was pleasantly surprised to find that it was neither. The place seemed almost like a ghost town even though it was high noon. Or rather, that was precisely why the streets were deserted. The locals weren’t used to summers being this unforgivably hot, so they hid in cellars, basements, or any other deep hole they could find. Not a single soul saw the yellow-garbed mage as she marched down the main street. A few might’ve heard the echo of her footsteps upon the mossy cobbles, or perhaps noticed the soft rattling of her equipment, but none bothered to investigate. Thankfully the visitor didn’t need to ask the locals for directions to the mayor’s place, as they had already been provided along with the request, and it was obvious besides.
The traveler thus found herself standing in front of the largest house around. Thankfully the front door was outfitted with an old brass knocker, so she didn’t hesitate to give it a few solid bangs. Unfortunately, it was only then that she noticed a plank of wood nailed to the frame with something written on it in charcoal. The outsider barely read the words ‘DO NOT KNOCK!’ when a loud thud and a rush of air informed her that the front door had fallen into the hallway beyond as if it was never attached to its hinges. Well, that was unfortunate, but there was a silver lining. At least the visitor wouldn’t need to comply with the rest of the crude sign, which simply said, ‘Yell for Mike.’
“Hell’s bells!” someone shouted from inside. “Henry, I swear to the prophet, if that’s you again I’m gonna- Oh! Uh, hello there, stranger.”
The man who showed up was exactly what one might expect from a peasant. Messy hair, scruffy beard, old tunic and trousers, and a profound look of general ignorance. This, presumably, was Michael Ritten - the acting leader of Ascot Village and formally the wizard’s client. She really didn’t know how to respond in this situation though, so she defaulted to a traditional greeting. She tucked her hands into her baggy sleeves and offered a brief yet curteous bow.
“Ah, you must be the Sage of the Sands!”
She nodded.
“Wonderful! Please come inside and don’t mind the door. Been like that for weeks, but I’m still waiting on some hinges to fix it.”
She took him up on that offer and went inside the narrow and short hallway.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, just need to put this back up before all the hot air gets in here.”
He crouched down and grabbed the door, but struggled to lift the dense slab of lumber. Feeling somewhat responsible, his guest silently joined in. She was both taller and in better shape, so she did most of the work. Once it was upright and barely lodged in place against the doorframe, the mayor showed his visitor into the living room. It was a relatively humble place with some colorful rugs hung up on the wall, but it had a table with some chairs, which was all the woman cared about. She got ahead of herself and took a seat without being invited, though Mike didn’t seem to mind.
“Would you like some lemonade?” he offered.
“Water,” the woman spoke quietly.
“Don’t have much of that, I’m afraid, but I promise you the lemonade is nice and cool. Got an old ice-box downstairs, you see.”
“… Water, please?” she politely yet firmly repeated.
“… If you insist.”
Though a bit insulted, the simple man nevertheless poured her a cup out of a pewter pitcher. To his immense surprise, his guest pulled a cylindrical tin container from the large bag resting against her hip. She immediately opened it to reveal it was full of leaves that were dried so thoroughly they were completely black. She grabbed a pinch, dumped them in the water, then exchanged the metal box for something else from her belongings - an intricately carved wooden spoon. She grasped the cup with one hand and stirred it with the other while mumbling something under her breath. The fluid began to bubble and boil within moments, though a few extra stirs saw it settle to a steamy calm while the leaves within painted it a dark, rich shade of brown. Mike was just about to ask what the hell this weirdo was doing - albeit more politely - when the aroma hit him.
“You’re making… tea?”
The sage nodded. She seemed to realize something, then brought out that tin cylinder again and held it out as if offering him some.
“Uh, no thanks.”
Everything else aside, Mike was quite certain that the last thing he needed right now was a hot beverage. In fact, he was quietly wondering how his guest hadn’t passed out on the way here, walking around bundled up like that. He mentally filed it under ‘weird wizard stuff’ along with all the other quirks on display, and moved on to the matter at hand.
“So, about our request. Now that you’re here, do you have any idea what’s causing this drought?”
The sage nodded. She put her cup down on the table and once more reached into her bag. This time she pulled out a wrapped-up piece of evidence she grabbed earlier and thumped it on the table. It looked to be a sizzling piece of bone about the size of a plump eggplant, though much pointier. The woman assumed Mike had no idea what it was, so she immediately clued him in.
“Dragon.”
“… I’m sorry, did you say dragon?”
She nodded as she resumed stirring her tea.
“So that’s what’s been draining the water and stealing our cows?”
She confirmed wordlessly once more.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“I would never have guessed. I’ve heard stories, but have no idea what dragons are actually like. Do you think you can handle it yourself, or will you need backup?”
This time the wizard stared at Mike hard with her one visible eye, then jerked her head intently at the shattered horn between them.
“Oh. You’ve… already dealt with it.”
The only response he got was another firm nod, after which she pulled a slip of paper from her silken coat’s pocket and put it on the table. It was a receipt from her guild, which Mike had to sign to indicate the job was done and the adventurer could get paid.
“I… don’t mean to be rude, but do you mind if I grabbed a few people and we went to confirm this?”
Obviously he wouldn’t just take this bizarre stranger at her unspoken word. Mike was a simple villager who could barely even read, but he wasn’t a moron. From his perspective this whole thing was so fishy that he wondered if he should fetch his bait and tackle. His guest was a little insulted that her competency and legitimacy were put into question, not to mention annoyed that she’d have to do yet more legwork. It would take a whole hour just to walk to that stupid bridge and back. Just when her tea was ready, too. Still, the client had every right to demand more definitive proof of her services, so she had no choice but to oblige him.
*THUD THUD*
*BANG*
“Oh, fuck! Sorry, Uncle Mike!”
The sage nodded and was just about to begrudgingly stand up when a heavy knock ‘opened’ the front door, followed by a yell from an oddly familiar voice. Her host certainly seemed to recognize it, given the way he pinched his nose and sighed in frustration.
“Wait here for a minute, please. I need to deal with this.”
The sorceress certainly didn’t mind, as it gave her a chance to finish her drink while the guy stormed off to see what the ruckus was about. She brought the cup up to her lips and took a long, satisfying sip of the hot beverage, right through the black cloth obscuring her face. The spicy, scalding tea filled her with an intense warmth that instantly alleviated the uncomfortable chill in the pit of her stomach. Her arms and legs had already gotten nice and toasty since the dragon encounter, but she needed a little something special to fully recover the energy she expended on those two spells. Admittedly she had to use a bit of her inner fire to instantly boil the water, though the desert herbs she mixed into it would return the heat tenfold. She would’ve done this earlier and without bothering the client, but her waterskin was empty at the moment. She would’ve rationed her drink better if she knew a dragon would come charging at her before she made it to the village. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have taken this job at all if she had that information.
While the wizard lady was regaining her strength, Mike was busy questioning the new guest. She couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but it was probably important, so she tried not to eavesdrop and focused on downing her tea. She couldn’t just gulp it down in one go since dosage was what separated medicine from poison. Four solid sips with a half-minute break in between was the fastest she could do, though she took it slow since Mike’s conversation was taking a while. She had time to calmly empty her cup and use a napkin to wipe away the moist residue caught in her face-wrap. By the time the mayor returned, she had rested enough to fully regain her wits. This was fortunate since he had some rather unexpected company.
“This her?” Mike asked the new guest.
“Y-yeah, Uncle,” Tom sheepishly said. “That her.”
“Well, what’re you waiting for!”
He gave the would-be bandit a hard slap on the back of his thick skull, prompting the troublemaker to take a few steps forward and repeatedly bow his head.
“My brothers and I are sorry we tried to mug you. We also want to thank you for not, uh, turning us into frogs. Or blowing us up.”
“And?!” Mike demanded.
“And… we promise not to do it again.”
“Good enough. Now get the hell out of my sight while I figure out what to do with you idiots!”
Another slap from the uncle saw the nephew flee the scene, presumably to join the other two.
“I cannot apologize enough for those idiots. I have no idea why they keep pulling these stunts, but this time they’ve gone too far. If you want to turn them into the local Marshal, I completely understand, though I would prefer that you didn’t. They’re family, after all.”
“I do not care,” she bluntly stated, a little louder than before.
“I see. Well, one good came from this mess - Tom confirmed what you said. Wouldn’t have believed him if he wasn’t also carrying a smoldering piece of… whatever that is,” he pointed at the horn fragment. “Any idea what we can do with those remains?”
She scowled behind her mask. That question reminded her of another reason why she hated red dragons in particular. Her method of eliminating them, which was to ignite their innate magic and cause them to explode from within, left their remains in an utterly ruined and useless state. One could still stitch together a dragon scale tunic or fashion a charm from their bones, but such things would lack the lingering sparks of magic that usually made them worthwhile. The sage didn’t have this issue with other types of dragons since she could just incinerate them the usual way, but fire didn’t work on red ones. Not from the outside, at least.
As for the mayor’s question, it had a simple answer.
“Soup.”
“Soup?! Like, actual… stew?”
“Yes.”
“Is… is it safe to eat dragons?”
“This one, yes. Others, not. Now, sign.”
“Uh… Oh, of course!”
In all the commotion he nearly forgot about it, but nevertheless signed the receipt so the guild could dispense the deposit he made as payment for a job well done. He also made sure to leave a comment praising the sage for her expediency and professionalism, though in much simpler terms.
“Here you go, and thank you once again. I will be sure to ask for you if any more dragons show up.”
She really wished he wouldn’t do her any favors. Thankfully the odds of the incident repeating itself anytime soon were astronomically low… unless the stupid lizard had a mate. Crap. She should’ve thought of that sooner. Well, the paperwork was signed off, so she could just… leave and hope that wasn’t the case. Alternatively she’d have to scour the mountains in search of the nest for no extra pay. Then again, she would’ve normally had to do that if the idiot didn’t show himself right at the start. If she turned tail and went back without confirming the situation beyond a reasonable doubt, and it turned out there were indeed more dragons, the village’s troubles would not be resolved and she’d have Hell to pay. It was therefore in everyone’s best interest that she not be lazy and do her job properly.
“Miss? Is something the matter?”
The issue was that she already foolishly declared the matter settled, so asking this guy for information on the surrounding area without making a fool of herself was going to be difficult. What was the alternative, though? Wander the wilderness and hope she got lucky? No, that simply wouldn’t do. The resourceful adventurer then realized she had another option.
“This village have an inn?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Afraid not, but I got a spare room if you need somewhere to stay the night.”
“Please.”
“No problem, though can I ask why?”
“I… need a break. Half-day off.”
“Ah, I see. Well, since you’re staying around, how about we have a small feast tonight to celebrate your victory? Perhaps you can show us how to make that stew you suggested.”
She really didn’t want to do any of that. Avoiding this ‘hospitality’ was exactly why she preferred it when these rural folk treated her like a threat. It was also why she planned to get out of here as soon as possible. Unfortunately, she was too deep in her lies to pull out now, so she had no choice but to nod stiffly.
“Excellent! I’ll get right on it. I’m sure most of the others will be thrilled to lend a hand. We’ll take any excuse we can to party it up around here, and we haven’t had one of those in a long while.”
Great, as if she needed any more pressure.
“What will you do until evening, by the way? If you have nothing in mind I could-”
“Walk,” she urgently interrupted. “Taking a walk. Nature walk.”
“Oh, of course. Big-shot spellmaster like yourself probably doesn’t get to enjoy the outdoors much, I take it?”
She was actually nearly constantly on the road, hence why she hated traveling so much, but that was a pain to explain so she just nodded.
“Sadly this dragon business left our tranquil woods in a rather dire state, but I’m sure there are a few refreshing spots here and there.”
“Good point. I will find a guide. Goodbye.”
“Huh? What are- Oh, uh, okay. See you later, I guess?”
She could not leave that damn room fast enough. Yes, it was rude to walk off like that, but desperate times required desperate measures. Thankfully the ‘guide’ she had in mind was just outside the mayor’s house. More specifically, chilling on a bench in the shade of the tree near the side entrance. Tom, Dick, and Harry were naturally quite surprised and more than a little concerned that the scary wizard lady was marching straight towards them. The dimwits were always a bit slow on the uptake, but nevertheless realized it was probably for the best if they ran for the hills. They stood and legged it, but unfortunately for the eldest, the unusually athletic sage lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar of his tunic before he could escape.
“Dick! Harry! Come back here, ya traitors!”
“We’ll never forget you, Tom!”
“Rest in peace, big brother!”
His siblings showed no hesitation as they abandoned him to whatever fate the dragon-killer had in store for him.