Fools dream of being the one to conquer the waters, but they are uncharted for good reason.
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A fire dragon, brilliantly crimson and dwarfing the likes of Ryenzo, Emyxnar swooped down in all his draconic glory to land on the path in front of Jair.
Where Ryenzo’s neck and tail were whip-long and snake-sinuous, Emyxnar was thicker in a way that masked the fact that his were actually longer. His heavy body and thick limbs were the sort that crushed stone and rent mountains apart.
Jair held up the rubellite-embellished tribute, a huge flashy thing made with intricately angled golden planes specifically intended to be as appealing to a dragon’s instincts as possible.
He cleared his throat and raised the lizardbox to his lips. He squeaked carefully into it, modulating his mana flow to adjust for his specific vocalizations, and hoped he was remembering the intonations correctly.
“Go through sparkly sparkle?” Yeah… subtlety wasn’t going to happen. Dragons also had twenty-three different words for ‘sparkle,’ but he was fairly confident he was using the right ones.
Emyxnar ducked his head down, peering closely at the item Jair held up. “Red and gold. It will compliment my majesty nicely.” He held out a claw, and Jair hung the tribute over it, the oversized trinket looking tiny and inadequate as the dragon’s hand closed over it. Emyxnar’s eyes gleamed red with inner light as he held it up to his face and tilted the glittering thing this way and that.
“Go through?” Jair asked hopefully.
Emyxnar considered, then snorted. The burst of overheated wind caused Jair’s armor to flare up to protect him, and the force of it nearly knocked him off his feet. “It is beautiful. But I am still hungry.”
Jair tried to think how to argue his case eloquently, but eloquence wasn’t really possible. Even basic communication was a stretch.
What could he even say? He hadn’t brought anything but dried and preserved goods which would be of no interest to a dragon, even if he had enough to be more than a tiny bite.
“Food only mine food? Small.”
Emyxnar laughed, the ground trembling and air shimmering with heat. “You have pleased me, so you may live, but I will allow no one past today until I have eaten.”
“Go, return food,” Jair conceded. The locals hadn’t mentioned anything about a food tribute, but dragons were capricious. Emyxnar probably saw an opportunity to fleece a newcomer and jumped on it shamelessly.
The dragon lay down across the pass, lazily watching through half-closed eyes as Jair turned and hiked back into the hills, spinning his new shiny trinket on one claw.
Where to find something to feed a dragon with?
He didn’t have his gravity spells to survey the area, though Maelstrom could probably take the place of his lightning spells for fighting. He took out the sword and practiced throwing it at distant rocks or bushes as he went, adapting to its awkward weight and shape. Swords were not made for throwing, but it was the one weapon he could always guarantee having to hand. The more ways he could learn to use it the better.
These northern hills had already been hunted to depletion by Emyxnar and his cousins. Jair walked for hours without seeing anything larger than a squirrel. So it wasn’t a case of the dragon being lazy enough to ask him to collect something it could grab for itself in a matter of minutes, at least.
Which did leave the question of what it ordinarily ate, and why it was suddenly demanding food from travelers. The outpost hadn’t mentioned any food requirements, and he’d made his intention to pass this way fairly obvious.
There would probably be beasts for sale back at the outpost, if he told them he needed a food tribute for the dragons as well. May as well get a whole caravan, at that rate.
Time disappeared as he walked. The unfamiliar-familiar landscape slipped past, the sun reached its peak and began to descend, and Jair arrived back at the outpost.
“You’re back?” The dark-furred lizard-tailed shopkeeper at the draconic specialist shop folded his arms on his counter, peering at Jair. “What’s the problem?”
“Emyxnar wants food.”
The man’s pointy ears twitched irritably. “This again? That greedy snake. Where does he think we’re going to get a dragon-sized dinner, eh? That’s Desyov’s job.”
“Well, he refuses to let me past without feeding him, so I either need some animals to take to him or snow shoes to climb around Mount Cyrindenth.”
“Either one’s going to be a hassle.” The man ducked down behind his counter and rummaged around for a while, then popped back up and shrugged. “No one tries the mountain this close to Solaria, so I don’t have anything in stock.”
“Anywhere in the network I can get either of those?”
The man considered, then wrote down a few options for shops in various towns throughout Garne. “I can’t guarantee their availability or pricing, but I can vouch for the quality. They’re reasonable to work with and won’t try to shift something faulty.”
Jair gave him a handful of coins in thanks, and walked out to the transit platform.
The first stop was all but useless. Uyarne was known as the largest trade town in Garne, but from what Jair could tell it held that title only because it was host to the lunar platform. The merchant he’d been referred to swore he could get in anything on Terlunia, but that was weeks away. There were a lot of shops, but almost everything was touristy and superficial.
The local constructist was the only true expert in the place, though admittedly he was a very good expert. He could craft a proper set of snow shoes in three days despite being without half the base ingredients, so Jair went ahead and placed an order in case he couldn’t find anything faster. He paid the man up front along with extra to hold them for him if he didn’t make it back immediately.
Uyarne’s real strength was its food. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of food a fire dragon would want to eat. Jair picked up some local specialty peaches to snack on since he was here, and headed off to the transit platform.
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The second town was little better. While it had a reasonable number of capable merchants, out of season equipment wasn’t in stock at the moment, and none could get it any sooner than Terlunia. They did have access to meat animals, however, and the town butcher gave him directions to various local farms.
“I don’t suppose you can do better than directions? Surely you’d have a transit key to at least one of them.”
The butcher laughed heartily at that. “You think I go to them? If they don’t have something to sell, I won’t hear about it.”
“No emergency contacts, for sudden large orders?”
“I’ll have a runner on lunar passage days, but when else is there going to be a sudden large order?”
“Right now.”
“I could send a runner if you’re that averse to walking, but it’d be faster for you to head out and talk to them yourself if you’re in that much of a rush.”
“Can you at least tell me which of them has a transit platform? I can provide the mana if that’s the issue.”
“I think they share one, not sure where exactly. Like I said, I don’t go out there myself. Got plenty of work here.”
There was a path of sorts leading off toward the farmland, though Jair would hesitate to call it a road even by the most generous of definitions.
The first two farms had nothing larger than a pig, and the farmers were reluctant to part with their livestock in bulk. Jair could have pushed, since he had enough money to make reasonable pricing irrelevant, but he didn’t want to spend the next two days herding chickens. What he could cross in hours would take much longer with unruly animals.
“I don’t suppose you know of anyone with bulbix, cows, or irethons?” he asked at the third farm, finding yet more small or unreasonable creatures. “I’m looking for something big and not too slow.”
“Gela has a couple young bulbix, but I doubt he’d part with them. He’s hoping to start breeding them next year.”
“Do you know where he got them?”
“Yeah, some kittish called Hyali down Meroke ways. Wouldn’t stop bragging about it for months. Thinks he’s going to break into the industry and make a fortune so he can—”
“Thank you,” Jair interrupted, sensing a very long story in the offing if he didn’t keep things focused. “If I could trouble you for a transit key from your local platform? I’d like to visit Meroke for myself.”
As it turned out, the platform was a good hour’s walk away, and he got to hear all about Gela’s ambitions after all.
But it was worth it in the end. The Meroke kittish owned an extensive bulbix herd, both lesser and greater, and was happy enough to part with a half-dozen once Jair increased his offer a time or two.
Generally cow-like in size and temperament, but significantly rounder in form and with a distinctly mellow tangy flavor, bulbix were bred specifically to be large and meaty. Generally for specialty steaks rather than dragon-bait, but pay someone enough and they won’t care what use you have for their product.
With his new collection of bulbix harnessed together in tow, Jair paid exorbitant bribes to get them all through transit two at a time, since the outpost arrival platform wasn’t large enough to accommodate all six, then set out across the hills of many dams again as evening fell.
At least the dams made for an easier route than going down and up and down and up, so long as he kept his bulbix from wandering off downhill. He stopped by one of the reservoirs to drink on the way, a process that took considerably longer with animals than to grab a jug for himself.
All in all, it was close to midnight by the time he reached Emyxnar’s pass again. The dragon still lay where he’d sprawled, body glowing ember-red in the darkness, inner heat turning each of its scales into a dim shadow against its brilliance.
Emyxnar could lay on the Institute and crush the entire place into melty slag. Jair’s tiny herd suddenly felt wholly insufficient, but the dragon perked up as they neared. He raised his head, sniffing at the air, then breathed out a glowing cloud of soft fire overhead to briefly illuminate the scene.
“My favourite tiny friend returns! You have done well. Come.” Emyxnar stood, forming a massive glowing tunnel beneath his body.
Jair led the bulbix herd into reach of the dragon’s head—which was substantially more difficult than leading them across the hills had been—then tied off their lead to the nearest rock and hiked beneath the massive creature’s stomach. It was pleasantly warm, taking off the evening chill.
He paid no attention to the squishing and crunching sounds behind him, only continued on his way.
After a time, he emerged from beneath Emyxnar and out into the dark ravine beyond. He activated the light in his staff, top and bottom glowing enough to provide vague light.
He had no desire to rest and made it halfway across Emyxnar’s territory by dawn. He paused briefly to eat, trace his imprints, and meditate before continuing. It was noon by the time he reached the rocky plain that separated Emyxnar’s pass from the lower territory Mount Cyrindenth, and that’s where his almost trance-like walking was interrupted.
“Hey, you, get over here.” A voice he immediately recognized.
Jair stopped mid-step. “Qahrvirna?”
Indeed, off to the left the vampire-witch crouched at the rocky entrance of a concealed crack in the stone wall, beckoning to him. Qahrvirna had the faintly red tint to her dark skin that hinted she’d been around for more than a few centuries, though few would be able to recognize it who hadn’t interacted with more than their fair share of vampires.
“What are you doing here?” Jair had never seen her away from her tower.
“Trying to save your life, whoever you are. Come in here, quick, before she sees you.”
Jair followed her instructions without pause, darting into the shadow of the rock. Of the many things that could be said about Qahrvirna, casual lying wasn’t one of them. If there were such a thing as a trustworthy vampire, Qahrvirna was the closest you could get.
She was also completely insane. But in a fun way. Most of the time, at least.
“Who’s this ‘she’?” Jair asked, once they’d scooted back further into the hillside. “Cyrindenth?”
“Of course, Cyrindenth, who else? She’s in some kind of mood this month, I tell you.” Qahrvirna grinned. “But, more importantly, who are you? I’m sure I’d remember if I’d met someone like you. Marching to battle in quiet frost, mmmmm…” she took a long deep breath through her nose, eyeing Jair hungrily.
He smiled back, warningly. “Not today. I’m too old for you, anyway.”
“And he knows me, but I do not know him,” Qahrvirna mused. “You must tell me.”
“Not today,” Jair repeated. “Tell me what’s going on with Cyrindenth.”
“Oh, well, it’s quite silly, but… that dragon has got it in her head that there are too many two-legged people running around, and she’ll rectify that.”
“She’s started eating people?”
Qahrvirna giggled. “No, just one leg. That’s her new tribute cost. Which I wish I’d known before I came down this way, since it makes it very difficult to get home.”
“Does it have to be your own leg?”
“That’s a question, indeed.” Qahrvirna tapped her lips with one pointed fingernail. “You still haven’t introduced yourself.”
“Jair Welburne, mageblade ascendant, dragonslayer, archmage, blademaster, and vampire-slayer. Among other things.”
Qahrvirna drew herself up, shifting sinuously against the stone behind her. “Bold one,” she whispered, licking her lips. “You’re sure you’re unavailable?”
“I’m here on business. I need to find Eythron.”
She hissed slowly. “He keeps taking all the interesting ones.”
“You might want to work on your sales pitch. Most people looking for a mentor would rather not be sucked dry in the process.”
“But you’d love every second of it,” she promised, with a grin that showed off all her fangs.
Jair smirked back. “If you’re counting in seconds, then you’re clearly moving too fast.”
“How much did he promise you? I can do better.”
“I’m a mageblade ascendant. You can’t help.”
“Pah, class business. Remember that I saved your life here.”
Jair scoffed. “You think my business requires both legs? If that’s all you’ve got, I have a dragon to talk to.”
Qahrvirna stared at him, eyes gleaming in the dark. “I swear, you’re doing it on purpose.”
“Am I?”
“How do you know me?”
“We met a long time ago, in another lifetime. You won’t be able to remember, unfortunately. You helped me refine a recipe, and I helped you refine some of your other techniques.”
“Liessss, I wouldn’t forget something like that.”
“And yet you’ll never remember. Only I. What a cruel fate, that you should be left out of your own potential.”
Qahrvirna grinned. “Here’s my question. Do you need either of your legs?”
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