Chapter Thirty Three: The Shopkeeper

Freya was standing at the desk of a trader. She knew the trader would rip her off, but she’d already won.

She slowly added more and more treasure to the pile. Soon, it was covering the counter, and the front lobby of the shop.

The trader looked at her with a stern look.

“I can do about five thousand for everything.” The trader said.

“Nuh, uh.” She said, harshly. “Enchanted.” She smirked. The trader cast a spell to detect enchantment and gasped. He apologised and started re-tallying. She could tell from his face he was frothing with excitement. He wanted to buy it. After about fifteen minutes of close inspection he valued the collection at close to one million Dime. Jason’s loot was only half of Freya’s total collection.

“I can give you two hundred thousand Dime.” He said, furiously writing notes into a book.

“Give me my brother’s sword back as well.” She snapped. “And it’s a deal.”

They shook hands and the shopkeeper pulled an ornate sword down from a display behind him, then he started handing Freya small wooden chests he procured from a back room. They were full of gold.

Forty five small wooden chests later, Freya’s bag of holding was brimming with gold.

She smiled and shook the man’s hand. Her brother’s ornate sword was strapped into the holster on her back.

A few hours later Freya was in her bedroom, embarrassed of her outfit.

She was dressed in a traditional outfit. It was very silky and very open at the back. It was a dress with lots of incredible textures. She felt like a cloud. She looked hot, but she hated that she looked hot. She stashed all of her armour in her bag of holding and reluctantly left through the front door.

She walked with her parents to her front door and they left together. They went to the town square and her father joined the singers during the ceremony. It was casual. She loved being there, but hated how revealing her dress was. She was getting the eyes of many men around the fire pit. Her beauty was striking. She figured she would honestly try it on with a few of them when she finally felt like settling down, but for some reason, she thought of Jason. The blacksmith. She pushed the thought from her mind. “Not him.” She thought.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Her father started to speak after singing.

“My daughter has returned. She brings dark tidings. Dragons have returned to the land. We must leave now and assist the king at the Castle of Flowers. We owe a deep gratitude to the son’s father. All men must report with me tomorrow. We will ride after preparing and debriefing. Midday tomorrow. Women, children, teenagers, you are all to keep the sacred magic beasts alive, as usual.”

“NO! Stop it! We should hide! This is not like the dragons in our distant past. This thing is massive. It is taller than a city. We should stay and hope it does not find us through the magic forcefield. It has protected the Elves for my entire life.” Freya shouted. Hoping others would join in.

“Young girl, dragons are not that big. I’ve killed seventy. Only as big as a tree. Small tree.”

An old elf said. This got a round of applause from others, but Freya stuck out her lip.

“This dragon is different.” Freya said. “I think it is from the dark chasm. The place of monsters inside the earth. It destroyed Buttermilk in one night. I watched it happen with my own eyes. We cannot stop this.” She stood up angrily.

“Daughter,” Anton said, he put his hand on her shoulder. “I understand that this dragon seems impossible to defeat, but we must fight.” He hugged her. Everyone around her seemed to be at peace with the idea.

“We must protect our sacred animals. Including you, little ladybug.” He kissed her on the forehead.

Freya looked around at the tame house cats. They were lying next to their owners, or curled up sleeping. Freya looked at her father and knew he was right, fighting was better than being a coward. She just wished she could show him how big the dragon truly was, and how unbeatable this fight would be.

“So tonight we celebrate, hangovers tomorrow for sure.” Her father had planned a surprise party for the village. The instruments started magically playing a popular folk tune and the elves began to dance like water to the tune. Some elves brought out carts with bottles of wine and they were rushed by the elves. The good stuff was being brought out tonight. The type of wine that comes out when you know some soldiers won't be coming home. The good stuff.

During the party, Freya hugged her mother and her father in a group hug. She left the party on foot and conjured her horse. She rode away in the night crying. She wished she never came back.

Her father was going to kill everyone she loved. She had to find a way to kill the dragon, and fast. She thought about the library in the city of the Castle of Flowers. It had books older than the elves. It had more books than anywhere else in Arcadia. She just prayed she could find a weakness to exploit. That damned thing was near invincible. With her bag free from miscellaneous loot and full of gold Dime, she was more prepared than ever, except that right now she was in a sexy dress. Her horse jumped off the island back to the cliff and landed perfectly. She rode her horse through the white bark forest and headed south.