Once Caldor gave up on trying to escape from the wagon he was currently chained to, it finally, fully sank in what he was expected to do. How was he supposed to face a dragon of all things? His expertise was only with stealing from humans, and those didn't have claws, or fangs, or fire breath, or—
Cal huffed, staring off at the forest in the distance in front of him. Thinking like this was really not helping him. And neither was the guard bringing him to the fort and his doom. She mostly just kept looking back at him every few minutes with various degrees of annoyance and scorn.
Caldor shifted his weight on the bench he was being forced to sit on, his hands cuffed behind him to a metal ring he now couldn't see, but he could feel it against his upper back when he leaned back.
He had wasted his chance at getting free when they'd walked to the wagon, it seemed, because his hands had been shackled in front of him then, and he could have worked with that. But there had been too many eyes on him throughout the entire way, so he hadn't tried. He had managed to retrieve two of his lockpicks, but he couldn't seem to manage to unlock the cuffs with the way the wagon wheels kept running over rocks and bumps on the road.
It would have been very difficult to unlock the cuffs under normal circumstances from this angle, but the constant movement made it practically impossible.
So, unable to escape, stuck with a guard who refused to even talk to him, Caldor was left with only his thoughts. And he didn't like them.
All he could think about was an imminent death at the hands of a dragon. Or its claws. How he wished he had spent some time listening to what his few fellow, literate thieves had been telling him about the books they'd collected for their entertainment.
He remembered Kyra telling him about one of them that had probably been about dragons because Cal remembered seeing the head of one on its cover, but for whatever reason he hadn't listened to her at all, having been busy with something. Perhaps if he had, he'd know how to deal with one if he didn't manage to sneak past it.
Or maybe he would simply be even more afraid now, knowing just what he was supposed to deal with. And now, having thought about one of his friends, he felt even worse. He hoped Kyra was all right.
He winced as the wagon ran over a particularly large rock, the impact making him drop the lockpicks. He huffed and cursed softly as they clinked softly against the wooden bench of the wagon. But the chain binding his wrists was too short, and he couldn't reach far enough, his fingers only brushing against the thin metal instruments. He strained his arms against the chain, almost reaching...almost....
Suddenly the whole wagon shook, throwing Cal forward, only the chain keeping him from falling. He shook his head, ignoring his aching wrists as he reached for the lockpicks again. He tried again and again, but no matter where he moved his hands, he couldn't feel the lockpicks anymore.
Great. Just great.
"I think you missed a few bumps back there," Cal complained, hoping to get the guard to respond. But all he got was an irritated look over the shoulder as Zaria made the horse go faster.
Caldor supposed that was technically a response, but not one he had wanted. "You don't talk a lot, do you?"
"And you talk too much," she replied, not bothering to look back at him. Caldor scowled, though inside he was secretly pleased that he'd gotten her to speak. He did also take offense at what she'd said, however. He didn't talk too much. He simply enjoyed talking, and he didn't do it to an uncommon degree. She was the one who was too quiet.
Narrowing his eyes, he frowned at the back of the guard's head. If she even was a guard. All he knew was that she worked for Augerill. He hadn't been told anything at all since the lord had left. But Zaria was supposed to tell him things, so perhaps the only way they could have a conversation was by asking about his damned mission.
"What is in that book, anyway?"
"That is not for you to know," she replied, brushing her short, blond hair behind her ear. "You will get a drawing of it once we reach the fort, and that's all the information you will need."
Dammit, this wasn't working how he'd thought it would. How was he going to respond to this in a way that would get this conversation further?
"Well, how am I supposed to find a specific book in an entire fort, then?"
"That's not my problem."
Caldor huffed, shaking his head. He had no idea how large the fort was, of course, but there was no such thing as a small fort. His best hope would be that the dragon kept it on display or in a library of some kind. Otherwise, if it were just stashed somewhere, he had very little chance of actually finding it.
Why did this dragon even have a book? They couldn't read, could they? Or if they could, Cal was pretty sure that books to them would have to be either comically large, or they had a lot of trouble flipping pages without destroying the entire book in the process of reading it.
That image was a little funny to him, only somewhat ruined by the fact that he might get to see a dragon in person soon, and the idea of the dragon's claws tearing paper apart got a lot less amusing when he imagined them being used on him.
He and Zaria must have been on the road for a while now, as the sun was slowly sinking in the sky, only shining through the nearby treetops, and there was very little around them aside from fields and forests.
Caldor wasn't sure he recognized anything around here, though he was sure he'd been out here at some point. He'd simply spent most of his time in the city, and there had been very little reason to leave it. He didn't truly regret it, but he did feel a small pang of regret at never exploring anything beyond Redreach. And now he might never get to....
He shook his head, trying to get these thoughts out of his head. Turning into a wistful defeatist was not going to help him. If he gave up ahead of time, there was no chance of him pulling this off.
That was assuming this wasn't just a trick by Augerill to get Cal to kill himself for no reason, and that there was actually a book to find, of course. But Caldor doubted this part of their deal was a lie. It seemed far too specific, and he was sure the bastard would have enjoyed a public execution much more than this.
He made a few more attempts to get Zaria to talk to him, but he gave up eventually, just letting himself be brought to what would likely be his death as the sun's last rays disappeared beneath the horizon.
The moon's bright white crescent had long since made its way onto the dark sky when the wagon finally came to a halt, the horse that had been pulling it letting out a tired-sounding snort.
Cal couldn't help but relate to the creature. After so many hours of being forced to sit with his hands behind his back, every muscle in his body ached. And he was sure it would only get worse after he started moving. He would walk it off, of course, but this was not a good start for a heist like this. Especially since he had no information, and therefore no real plan.
He swallowed thickly as his eyes found the fort. It was taller than he'd imagined, and larger in general, with many rectangular towers, and high walls, hiding whatever was beyond them from prying eyes. It looked closer to a castle, in Cal's opinion, but he supposed a dragon would need a lot of space, assuming they were as large as the legends about them claimed.
The sight of the huge structure towering over him on the hill above made this all the more intimidating, especially with how dark it was, the moon being the only thing lighting his way. He'd forgotten how dark it could be without torches.
Zaria, in her usual manner, walked over to him without a word, climbed onto the wagon, and unlocked the shackles. Cal immediately pulled his hands close to his chest, rubbing the sore skin and hissing in pain. He was sure there were bruises, but with the terrible light, he couldn't see them.
Stupid shackles.
"Move," Zaria told him, picking up a satchel from the wagon's wooden floor. Had that been there the entire time? Caldor must have been so preoccupied with thinking about his very possible death that he hadn't even noticed.
He begrudgingly did as he was told, stretching his arms and legs with a grimace as he walked over to the edge of the wagon and jumped out of it. He'd better manage to get his muscles back into working condition before he tried getting inside of the fort, or this would be a really short attempt at a heist.
"Here," she said, reaching into the bag and then practically throwing something at him. Thankfully, Caldor managed to grab it by sheer reflex. At first, he thought it was just rope, but he quickly noticed a metal hook at one end.
Great. How nice of her to give him a grappling hook. He wouldn't have to knock on the front door and nicely ask the dragon to open up to get inside now.
"And the picture," she handed him a piece of parchment. Caldor took it, frowning down at the illustration. He couldn't see all of the details with how dark it was, but he could see it well enough to recognize a thick, leather-bound book reinforced with metal plates, with strange symbols carved into it.
It certainly didn't look like any book he had seen before, but then again he was supposed to go steal it from a dragon. Clearly, this was no normal book. What was Augerill up to, anyway?
"So, all I need to do now is just go climb up the side of a fortress, then?"
Zaria gave him a withering look. "Correct. And if you try to run, I will shoot you."
Caldor blinked. He hadn't been expecting her to be so straightforward, though he probably should have by now. She didn't have a bow or crossbow on her—or at least he couldn't see it—but somehow he didn't doubt her words at all.
"Right."
If Zaria hadn't had a horse, he probably would have tried to run away. After all, even if he would have to try to climb up the side of the fort that Zaria would be able to see, he could still make his way to the other side and climb back down.
But she could easily catch up to him with a horse. And clearly, she was taking no chances with him. Cal wouldn't even be surprised if she started circling the fort once he got inside to make sure he didn't try anything.
Caldor sighed, trying to get his rapidly beating heart to calm down at least a little. The more scared and nervous he got, the more mistakes he would make. He'd learned at least that much from his many, many robberies.
Zaria narrowed her eyes at him when he didn't move for a second too long, pointing her finger sharply in the direction of the fort. Despite her not saying anything, he felt like he was being yelled at with the glare she was giving him.
So naturally, he glared back. Zaria was the only person around, and for some reason, Augerill hadn't bothered sending anyone else with him. Caldor hadn't thought to use that to his advantage so far since all this time his hands had been bound, but that wasn't the case anymore. He wasn't the best fighter, and he had no weapon, but perhaps if he was fast enough—
He flinched as Zaria moved at lightning speed, her sword at his throat in an instant. "I will kill you if you try anything."
Cal swallowed, raising his hands in surrender, but Zaria lowered her sword only after looking him up and down. How could she have known? But then she must have been a part of Augerill's personal guard. She had to be competent. Caldor just hadn't thought she was that competent.
"Now move."
Sighing and clutching the rope in one hand, the drawing of the book in the other, he did as he was told, staying far enough away from Zaria so he wasn't in danger of being stabbed by her.
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He could still feel her eyes on him as he trudged through knee-length grass, disturbing sleeping insects as he did, slowly but surely approaching the tall stone walls of the fort. It was hard to believe this had been here all along, and he'd just never heard of it. Though he supposed that made sense, as he usually didn't pay much attention to anything happening outside of Redreach.
Still, he had imagined the place would be a ruin. And though it was to some extent, with some of the walls and towers missing chunks, it still looked fairly intact. Or perhaps that was simply an illusion caused by a combination of the dark, and the ivy that was growing along the walls, covering them. It hadn't been visible from afar, but now that he was closer to the fort, it was impossible to miss.
When Cal finally reached the wall, some of the soreness in his legs had left, but he still didn't feel up to scaling such a tall wall. He touched the ivy stems, pulling on them. He could probably use those to climb up, but it was not worth the risk when he had a grappling hook.
He risked a look over his shoulder, unable to spot Zaria anymore. Somehow, he could still feel her watching him, though. Concerned that she might shoot him if he didn't continue quickly enough, he began twirling the hook, faster and faster before throwing it as high up as he could, hoping that it would reach the top of the thirty feet tall wall.
As he heard the hook scrape against the stone, biting into it, Cal felt a brief flash of joy from his success fill his heart as he pulled against the rope with all his strength, and it didn't budge. But that feeling quickly dissipated as he immediately remembered why he was even doing this.
Sighing once more, he grabbed the rope tightly and began to climb, using the ivy strands to steady his feet as he took one step after another. It was difficult not to slip on the leaves, however, as the wind blew past, throwing hair in his face every so often. Thank the gods it hadn't rained because that would make this impossible.
Cal had expected something terrible to happen, but surprisingly the way up was relatively easy. His arms burned with effort by the end of it, but he managed to reach the top of the wall before he would have to start worrying about losing his grip.
Once he was finally on the walkway on top of the wall, Caldor took a few deep breaths, leaning on the battlements of one of the towers that was right next to him, trying to slow down his breathing so as not to make more noise than he had to.
Taking a moment to look around while he calmed down, his eyes immediately drifted to the courtyard. It was empty, which wasn't that surprising given the fact that no humans lived here anymore, but beyond that, it seemed the space had been taken up by grass and weeds. Clearly, the dragon didn't care about preserving things or keeping them neat and tidy.
His gaze then moved to the main building itself, the keep. That was his best bet if he wanted to find the book, though seeing the size of it, Caldor was once again doubting that he ever could find anything in there. Hopefully, the inside of the fort was in better condition than the outside.
Taking a deep breath, Caldor began sneaking towards it. Trying not to make a single sound in the quiet night, he crept along the wall until he reached another tower that was directly attached to the keep itself.
At least Caldor hoped it was as he approached the heavy, wooden door leading inside of it. But there was nowhere else he could go aside from climbing down into the courtyard and trying his luck with the main entrance, which sounded like a much worse idea.
He took his two remaining lockpicks out before trying to pull on the doorknob just in case it wasn't locked. To his surprise, the door opened, but only a little, forcing Cal to pull on it with all his might to get it open enough to squeeze through. Grimacing at the creak the action produced, he froze for a moment, listening for anything that might give away that he'd been found, or that he'd alerted the dragon—or anyone else that might be here—to his presence.
But as the seconds ticked away and nothing happened, Caldor let out a breath and put the lockpicks away, slipping inside through the crack between the door and the wall and inside the tower.
Hesitating for just a second, he pulled the door closed again, making sure to do it carefully enough to avoid more noise. He wouldn't be able to escape as easily if he needed to like with the door shut, but he didn't want to risk causing a suspicious draft.
With that done, Caldor turned around, squinting into the darkness as he tried to get used to the change of light. Not that there had been a lot of light outside, but there was practically none in here.
There was a window or something similar above him somewhere, which threw enough moonlight into the small rectangular room to see the walls, but not much beyond that.
Cal kept one hand on the wall as he started to walk, making sure to take careful, slow steps so as not to kick or step into something that would make a lot of noise. Especially once he spotted stone steps leading down. If he accidentally sent something flying and it began to tumble down, he would be done for.
He swallowed, his heart hammering in his ears as he reached the stone staircase. Still leaning on the wall, he peered down, trying to listen for any sounds. But once again, everything was completely silent. And there were no odd smells either—just a certain mustiness, and something earthy that Caldor couldn't quite place.
He would have thought a dragon would be much louder. Even if it was just sleeping, it would surely make a lot of noise just by breathing. Dragons were supposed to be huge, after all.
Narrowing his eyes, Cal began to walk down the steps carefully. If there was no dragon....
Actually, what the hell was he thinking? He wouldn't care if there was no dragon, and Augerill had just said that to make him think he was going to die. It would make his job so much easier.
As he reached the end of the staircase, he was pleasantly surprised that there was only one door to go through, which made orienting himself much easier. But he doubted that was going to last. The keep had looked massive from the outside, and it wasn't going to be smaller on the inside.
Seeing as this door wasn't locked either, Caldor pushed it open with more ease than the other one, blinking as light suddenly assaulted his eyes.
As his vision quickly cleared up, he realized on the other side was a spacious hallway, complete with paintings, torches, metal chandleries, and a long, red rug over the entire floor.
Caldor swallowed. Okay, so someone certainly still lived here. But he somehow doubted a dragon would go around lighting torches and candles all the time, even assuming that it would fit in here. The hallway wasn't small, but it would certainly not be comfortable for a massive lizard. But what did Caldor know? Maybe dragons were actually tiny and unthreatening.
Gods, he wished he could convince himself of that.
Caldor continued moving, trying to stay within the shadows caused by the flames of the torches, though there were only so many of them. He wasn't sure how much it would help him if someone were to walk by, but it was the best he had at his disposal at the moment, short of hiding behind the tapestries hanging from the walls.
Cal's thieving instinct was telling him to make off with one or two of those paintings, even though that wasn't at all why he was here. Confusingly, they were all of landscapes. He was used to paintings having people on them, but who was he to judge art? His expertise was only with acquiring it.
The rug was still the most confusing part of the entire décor, but Cal was grateful for it, as it helped muffle the sounds of his footsteps by a considerable amount. No matter how well he could sneak, it was impossible to be completely silent while wearing boots and walking on stone.
As he ventured farther and farther into the empty halls of the fort, he gradually increased his pace. Everything was completely silent, and it was putting Caldor on edge. He had either been incredibly lucky so far, or there was no dragon, or it already knew he was here and was biding its time for some reason.
Cal threw a look over his shoulder when he came across yet another staircase, but there was nothing behind him. Dammit, he could tell he was getting paranoid because when he looked in front of him again, he immediately got the urge to check again.
He shook his head at his reactions to the situation and began to climb the stairs, doing so probably far too quickly, but he couldn't seem to slow down. He just needed to find the damned book and get out of here before he got too anxious to stay rational.
Cal felt very silly for getting so worked up over absolutely nothing, but he couldn't help it. Whenever someone started talking about magical creatures, or just magic in general, he always found it unnerving. So possibly being in the presence of something like this was making him uneasy.
As he reached the end of the stairs, he found himself in another, albeit smaller hallway, with much of the same decorations as he'd seen before. But there was one major difference—there were doors along the walls, most of which were at least partly open. And from the little he could see, the one closest to him had at least one bookshelf in it. He could only see the edge of it, but the spines of books confirmed it easily enough.
Feeling his heartbeat pick up even more, Caldor looked around to make sure no one was there to see him before creeping into the room, pulling the picture of the book from the pocket he'd stashed it in.
There were a lot of bookshelves in the rather spacious room, stretching up to the ceiling, with walls covered with them, and also a few rows of them filling the space, creating a small maze of sorts. In the very middle of the room were a wooden lectern and a table. The table stood out because it was covered with pieces of parchment, an inkwell with a quill sitting next to the mess.
Unable to resist his curiosity, Caldor walked over to the papers and picked one up, frowning at the strange symbols on it. Cal couldn't read, but he could tell this wasn't normal writing. Though he doubted it was supposed to look quite so jagged. Many parts of it were also crossed out to a rather needless degree as if whoever had written this had been trying to take some of their anger out on it.
Putting the parchment down again, Caldor quickly began to search the shelves, looking for any book that would fit the description he'd been given. But he very quickly found out that there were no tomes with metal on their spine. He didn't even need to study the books more closely to know this.
As he walked among the rows of bookshelves a second time, he let out an irritated huff. Of course it couldn't have been so easy. Of course. There were hundreds of books here, and yet the one he needed to find was somewhere else.
And so he snuck out of the room again, hoping that one of the others would contain perhaps yet another library. Once he took a peek into the room next to the library, however, he froze, his eyes widening.
For a second, all Cal could do was stand there and stare at the bed in the corner. A man was lying on it, presumably sleeping, but Caldor didn't dare move. Being scared of accidentally waking this person up was only half the reason Cal was standing rooted to the spot, though.
Despite the relative darkness in the room, the only source of light being the fireplace in the opposite corner, there was no denying it. There was a golden, leathery wing sticking out from beneath the heavy blanket the man had over him, stretching over it in a lazy, relaxed arch. Even after looking at that for a while, Caldor's brain still refused to accept it.
This had to be the dragon. There was no other explanation Caldor could come up with for this man to have wings. He'd never before heard that dragons could take human form, but hell, it made about as much sense as anything. The only important thing right now was not waking the dragon up, finding the book, and getting out of here before he woke up.
But before he could rush to get away, Caldor spotted something on the small bedside table right next to the bed. There was a thick book on it, the light of the fireplace glinting off parts of its surface.
Caldor squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. Oh gods, that was going to be the book he was looking for, wasn't it? And even worse—if it wasn't, he was going to risk his life completely pointlessly.
How was he supposed to sneak over there without waking the dragon? Cal was confident in his ability to move around silently enough not to arouse suspicion in most situations, but that was with humans. How was he supposed to know if dragons had better hearing, or if their sleep was much lighter?
But there was no way to check if this was the right book without sneaking over there and looking at the front cover.
Taking in a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest Caldor slipped off his boots as silently as he could. Hopefully the carpet covering most of the room would muffle his footsteps enough to at the very least get over to the book without getting killed.
He swallowed and took in a deep breath before taking his first step. He'd wanted to move as slowly as possible, just to be safe, but now, standing in what was apparently a dragon's bedroom, his feet seemed to carry him as fast they wanted to. And he couldn't seem to stop or slow down, his fear forcing him to get this done as quickly as possible.
Cal's eyes never left the dragon, even as he reached the book, waiting for the creature to wake up at any moment, but from what Caldor could see with the dragon having his back towards him, the creature had barely moved, aside from the wing rising and falling with each slow breath the dragon took.
Swallowing thickly, Caldor stopped in front of the bedside table, forcing himself not to stare at the dragon sleeping mere two feet away from him. He quickly looked the book over from where he was standing, barely within reach of the tome, but he didn't even need to look at the drawing again. This was definitely what he was looking for.
Grabbing it without a second thought, Cal turned around to make a hasty escape, only to freeze up with shock as he saw the figure on the bed shift. He stood there, clutching the book against his chest, his eyes wide as the dragon turned over completely, his face now easily visible.
But his eyes were still closed. Caldor let out a relieved, shaky breath, his feet suddenly wobbly and unsteady. He needed to get away before the dragon actually did wake up.
And yet, Cal found himself staring down at the dragon as he stretched out both of his now exposed, golden wings, the left drooping over the edge of the bed.
The dragon was...surprisingly good-looking. Caldor had certainly not expected that from a fire-breathing lizard to the point that it was almost bizarre. The same golden scales dotted the dragon's cheeks, forming a cluster underneath his eyes, and then another on the tip of the long, pointy ear that was sticking out of the dragon's relatively short, messy blond hair. There were two golden horns sticking out from his hair as well, curling behind his head.
The dragon didn't look entirely human, but he was much more beautiful than he had any right to be.
As Caldor began to wonder just what color the dragon's eyes were, he finally managed to get a hold of himself. He needed to get out of here. Immediately.
He didn't even dare to breathe as he snuck out of the room once again, his iron grip on the heavy book in his hands getting even tighter as he became incredibly aware of how sweaty his hands were. If he lost his grip on the book, it would rouse the sleeping dragon.
Caldor barely remembered to put his boots on again as he did all he could to force himself not to run out of there immediately. He was full-on running once he'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs, though, rushing back into the first corridor.
He didn't stop until he reached the door leading outside, uncaring of how loud his footsteps were on the stone stairs, echoing through the whole tower. As cold wind finally hit Caldor's face, he pulled the tower door closed, taking in deep, long breaths to calm down.
But a moment was all he gave himself before rushing along the fort wall, looking for wherever he'd left the rope, so he could get back down. He continued clutching the book close to his chest as he began to climb down, doing so quickly despite only using one arm.
He couldn't believe he was still alive. He felt like he shouldn't have managed this, but he wasn't going to complain.
Although,when he would inevitably tell his guild about this, he had to remember tomention nothing about all the things they could steal in this place, no matterhow much money they could make off it. Because Cal was sure of one thing rightnow more than anything else—he was never coming back here, and no one elseshould come here either.