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The Forging of a Sage
Chapter 57: Planning a Trap

Chapter 57: Planning a Trap

Rosalea was tired early that evening. She had not eaten properly the day before, so the combination of being warm and not feeling alone wore her down after the day playing with Miri. She let Nakai escort her back to her bed; Miri followed her part of the way, but after a little hesitation, bounded back to her mother, and Rosalea smiled reassuringly at her. As she lay down, she only felt a little flustered as Nakai settled down next to her and put a wing over the top of her.

In her dreams, she was reminding Fen that they had eaten. They didn’t need to capture a rabbit for tomorrow. In fact, Kaylar had given them supplies they still had barely touched, and she had all this money. It was not worth it.

But Fen split around the trees anyway, because future concerns could not alter the actions taken already. The vivid details of each man were seared on her brain as they raised their bows and fired on her liana. In the dream, Rosalea was just as powerless as before to do anything for Fen.

The dream shifted, Rosalea dreamed the sequence again, except she was the hunter standing above them, and she shot Fen.

Rosalea jerked awake, each breath difficult to take because her chest was so tight. She sat up, putting her face into her hands, her palms slick and clammy as her heart pounded.

“Are you awake or not? I had hopes, but you are not moving again.” Rosalea took her hands away and looked up. It was a large white wolf. At first, she thought it to be Nekana, but she realized that both eyes were a clearer blue. She also had one thicker fluffier tail than any of the other wolves, and more fluffy tufts on every joint. There was curling red, vaguely arcane markings on her body. “I am Amalia,” the wolf said. “I met you when you were still asleep with my mother carrying you.”

“Hello,” Rosalea said, still feeling overwhelmed by the dream. She had a weird feeling that she was both here having this perfectly ordinary conversation and also half way still dreaming.

“You have a very pretty hair color for a human. Do you change it to look this way?”

Rosalea shook her head. “No, I was born with it. I used to think about trying to blacken it because I thought it would be more normal and suit me better.”

The wolf smiled, and the expression was... Wistful? Something about it was really off to Rosalea, and without meaning to, she stared intently, not even sure how to react to it. Her focus on the odd reaction brought her fully awake, her heart rate calming as it realized she was no longer in imminent danger.

“You should eat. I have been very busy providing for you, my dear.” She tilted her head, and Rosalea looked in the direction prompted. Four barrels, big ones that Rosalea could have crawled into with plenty of space, sat with a light snow layer on them. Snow was gently coming down all around her, and she saw she had a plant canopy above her head. “Go ahead, it’ll warm you up and help the nightmare you were having fade.”

Rosalea blushed, I guess I was making noise or moving or something. How embarrassing. “How did you get all of this?”

Amalia chuckled. “You can guess. None of us approve of the wagons of people and supplies that have been pouring into Miron in any case.”

Rosalea thought about how poor and in disrepair the town had been. “Has the dragon been there long?” she asked, pulling up a lid to show a barrel of flour. She pressed it back down right away to protect it from the snow. This was more than she could eat before it spoiled.

“There was one before it that took over Miron, but it was killed. This one seemed able to take over for it.”

Rosalea pried up the next lid, a mix of dried goods in burlap sacks. She picked out some chunks of smoked apple and closed the lid on this one as well. “Miron was not always a dragon town?”

“No, it was once just a human town, hundreds of years ago. The dragon came soon after; interested in all the wealth the place could generate. We tolerated it until we could not.”

Rosalea thought about the dilapidated town, “So that dragon was gone awhile?”

“Yes, a couple of decades have past.”

Rosalea made a musing noise, “If it was able to take over the existing spell, it must be a relative, maybe a child of the first dragon.”

“Oh?”

Rosalea showed Amalia her palm, “I got to know a dragon well.”

“And he still let you loose?”

“He did not have a choice in the matter,” Rosalea said. It was on the tip of her tongue to try and talk about Rhainnon, but she faltered, “The Gods sent a clear… message that I was to leave.”

“I see. Mother mentioned you be the One of All,” Amalia said. “Who was your dragon?”

“Kaylar.”

She smiled a little, “Kaylar is one of few dragons that we respect as a people. He was friends with our father for a short time, when he was learning the secrets of magic for dragons and humans.”

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Rosalea was surprised to hear this. “Really?” She wanted Amalia to keep talking, but the wolf only nodded.

As Rosalea kept staring a bit intently at her, she offered, “It was before my parents met each other, so I only know the summary of the story, that my father helped him commune with Gods to learn proper magic.”

Rosalea nodded then. She opened the third barrel to find that it had an assortment of dishes and bags of oats. It is an interesting coincidence, she thought, and she wished she could talk to Kaylar about it. “There is more here than I can eat before it is likely to spoil,” Rosalea said into the silence as she opened the last barrel to find it full of different bolts of cloth, thread, and even a leather satchel that seemed to be a first aid kit that might be kept on hand with a merchant’s wagon.

“You can always share with us. I have often thought that the smell of human bread was interesting. I can always get you more.”

“It is not dangerous to raid merchants?” Rosalea said, remembering how many guards there had seemed to be with the one she and Ulric had spent the night with.

“A little, but I am not worried.”

Rosalea thought about the first aid not going to the town along with these food supplies, and she felt a little guilty. She replaced the lid. “So, the town has been without a dragon for a long time?”

“Two decades, but I suppose that is a while for a human or someone who is young.”

Rosalea frowned, “I am at least twenty-two, which for a human is plenty old, but I think I understand the condition of the town better now.”

“Twenty-two? Oh, my darling, you are just a baby,” Amalia sassed as she got to her feet. “Mother is actually thousands of years old, and I am coming up on something like fifteen hundred,” she said, looming over Rosalea. Rosalea stepped back a little as Amalia lowered her big head to be more even with hers.

“Also, mother has given you to me to look after from now on. So I decree that you shall be cuddled every day, starting right now,” she said, pushing a little with her nose. Rosalea felt flustered as magic pressed around her and lifted her from the spot she was as Amalia laid on her bed and brought her over, placing Rosalea intentionally against her side. The bowl of water likewise floated over, “Food and drink! Tell me, my darling, before you were Kaylar’s captive, where were you? With the Ieshans or the Uryans?”

Being this close to the wolf, against her soft fur, filled Rosalea with longing for Fen. She drank water to stop the tears from following. She set it down carefully next to herself, and then she ate some of the smoked apple chips. “I started with the Ieshans,” she said.

“I see, and what caused you to leave them, little one? Did you ever spend time with the Uryans?”

Rosalea found all of Amalia’s pet names for her flustering. She did understand that compared to the wolf she was young, but there seemed to have been an agreement she now belonged to the wolf, and she was not sure how it felt. The cuddling felt nice, but she definitely did not feel used to it. “It… is long, but yes, I did.”

“Darling, we have plenty of time. I want to hear all about it.”

Miri heard them talking and got up, coming over with a whine and a definite sulk. “Rosalea is telling stories and cuddling? What about me?”

“It is cold, why don’t you come be a good lap warmer and listen to Rosalea tell us about her life?”

Miri wagged her tail and did exactly what she was invited to do, crawling right up on Rosalea and flopping over and yawning. “First, can you please explain what Ieshans are?”

So, Rosalea did, she explained about Iesha and Urye. She explained about their wars, about destroying castle Ninevah, and how Ulric and her mother were cousins. She explained the tragic fate shared between them, but not how Ulric died. She tried to explain about the mind magic, but she found she could not clearly recall most of it, just a knowledge that it had been used on her.

“Mind magic sounds really scary the way Ieshans use it. Do any mystics have that magic?” Miri asked Amalia.

The wolf shook her head, “We are all born with natural affinity for plants, stone, water, air, or light, or darkness.”

“Bazil’s darkness magic scares me,” Miri huffed. “He plays too many tricks.”

Rosalea smiled, she could imagine that, the wolf seemed to have shadows rippling off of him and feathering form his coat.

“We shall have to plot to get him back,” Amalia said. “After all, I cannot have my litter mate picking on my precious baby sister, now can I?”

Miri’s tail wagged wildly as Amalia promised to help.

“So, you left the scary Ieshans and went to the Uryans? Are they scary too? How do they treat their liana?”

It was a nice morning, overall, and as it started to become afternoon, Amalia helped her with a fire and she made and cooked some oat bread with the supplies that had been stolen for her.

***

There was actual approval from the surly townspeople as the first wagons rolled into town and were unloaded. She was obligated to have them escorted from the town however, because one had been attacked by a forest god, and ravaged based on the rents and tears in the canvas.

That badger has been lurking on that hill top pretty continuously so it can stop our hunters from entering the forest. She stood on the section of new wall and stared up on the new ridge. If I can break, capture, or kill one of these mystics, then I can build morale in the town.

She mulled over some options. The easiest thing to build would have been a pit, but, badgers could really dig. A net, perhaps, and some people ready with some tranquilizers and arrows if those fail. She had learned that all the forest Gods seemed to have a strong affinity for nature. She did not what exactly to expect that the badger could do. We will start with a metal cage, terra mages report that it is just enough not like a stone to make it particularly effortful to manipulate.

And so, she ordered a cage built, and she took a ride around the perimeter of Miron, watching to see if the badger would come into her, and also working to select the spot of the encounter.

I think here, she thought as she came to a nearby patch of forest. It is protecting this sort of thing. So, here might be a good spot for a trap. She looked up on the ridge, I will send out men to try and hunt and keep it distracted when we have something ready.

She put her hand over a packet of seeds. The greenhouse was coming along nicely, but it was not finished yet. “I will grow these in my room,” she thought. She hopped off the horse, digging up good, clean soil, since the seeds she wanted to grow were rare and she did not want the poisonous plants she was growing not to thrive. She filled a saddle bag with it, and was gratified that around the time she was trying to remount her horse, it spoked as the badger charged them.

She managed to not fall, but she ended up clinging onto the galloping thing for quite a way with only one foot in a stirrup and having to hold her weight up on that leg white her horse ran to save their lives. Even more reactive than I thought. This will be easy. As long as I do not die from falling off this damn gelding. It was really lucky the girth on the saddle had been done so very tightly.

She managed to pull herself on, a little glad that the horse had been so alert for predators. It was a little lucky, she was not ready to try a head on fight with one of these things yet. She glanced behind her, seeing that the badger was no longer chasing her. I hope to present you to my lady, just enough alive so that you are useful to her.