Chapter 2

Founded along the upper reaches of the Islein River, the city of Oestestadt was one of the five cities surrounding The Blister: domain of the Ancient Green Dragon that was its namesake. As the principal city of the Azerlisian Frontier, it lay on the crossroads of the western imperial highway and the dwarven highway leading to Feoh Jura. Though it served as the main hub of trade between the Dwarf Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire, trade with the Dwarves had diminished to effectively nothing until recent times.

Their caravan arrived at Oestestadt’s southern gate amidst a light flurry and, after a brief inspection by the customs officers, made its way through the city to their inn near the perhaps not so imaginatively-named ‘Dwarf Gate’ – the western entrance to the city. It was here that the greatest massifs of the Azerlisia Mountains loomed large over the Baharuth Empire. Nemel constantly looked up at the shrouded peaks with a wondrous expression.

“Are the mountains that interesting to look at?” Dame Verilyn asked.

“They’re just so majestic,” Nemel breathed. “The Frost Dragons are from there, aren’t they?”

“Some Frost Dragons live there,” Dame Verilyn replied, “but their ancestors were from elsewhere. It would be a rather sad state of affairs if they only existed in this tiny place.”

“Where else do Frost Dragons live?”

“Anywhere that they fancy, which is preferably somewhere cold. The greatest population that I know of exists across the ocean to the north.”

As their wagon turned to enter the yard of their merchant inn, Dame Verilyn paused near the door of the tavern. Nemel watched as she seemed to focus on sights unseen.

“Do you always do that?” She asked.

“If it’s a building that I’m about to enter, yes,” Dame Verilyn replied. “There’s no reason for me not to, is there?”

“I was just wondering. It seems awfully convenient to have senses like that.”

“I haven’t ever dwelled on whether my own senses are ‘convenient’ or not, but, by your measures, I suppose they are.”

Dame Verilyn strolled off towards the city centre, her graceful figure casting a long shadow over the cobbled streets. Caught off guard, Nemel jogged over to catch up.

“We’re not checking in?”

“Zu Chiru should be able to handle himself in there,” Dame Verilyn told her. “We, on the other hand, are being stalked.”

“S-stalked?”

“Perhaps that was too strong a word? Several individuals have been observing us since we entered the city. Three males, six females. All Humans. When we walked off in this direction, they all followed us. More accurately, you.”

They were here. Since their journey from Engelfurt was so uneventful, Nemel had completely forgotten about the reason why she had been sent to accompany Dame Verilyn in the first place. On the first few days of their journey, she thought that people from other factions would come galloping from behind to catch up. Belatedly, she realised that it was easier to intercept them by going straight to Oestestadt from Arwintar.

Nemel clutched her cloak, drawing it around her shoulders.

“Should we hide?” She asked.

“Should we?” Dame Verilyn asked back, “You would know better than I when it comes to these imperial…what are they called, exactly?”

“I…don’t know? This already feels creepy so I think calling them stalkers is fine.”

“Very well,” Dame Verilyn nodded. “As a fellow stalker, what is your assessment?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. How did she end up being a stalker?

They continued on their way down the main thoroughfare. Dame Verilyn seemed less concerned about the stalkers and more interested in seeing what there was to see. A busy city plaza drew her attention and she meandered back and forth to the admiring gazes of the citizenry. When they stopped to line up at a food stand, Nemel drew closer to Dame Verilyn.

“What are they doing?” She whispered.

“They’re lining up for those venison skewers.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nemel kept her voice low. “I was talking about those ‘stalkers’.”

“That’s who I was talking about,” Dame Verilyn replied.

Nemel froze, a chill running up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder. Behind them were about a half dozen men and women, but she couldn’t tell who their stalkers were. Maybe it was all of them.

Can’t they wear black cloaks with black cowls and black masks so I can tell them apart? I’m just a stupid Wizard!

It didn’t help that half the plaza was staring at Dame Verilyn. Nemel combed her fingers lightly through her hair, conscious of the stares that were not quite directed at her. Annoyingly, even as such pressing matters were at hand, a tiny bit of her ego was screaming ‘Hey, look at me, too! I’m not bad either!’

She really wasn’t that bad looking. Nobles were almost always at least two or three cuts above the average commoner in appearance.

“So what will they do next?” Dame Verilyn asked.

“Uh…try and talk to you, I guess?”

“And then?”

“Learn stuff, maybe. They’re here to get on your good side on behalf of their superiors, so they’ll want to figure out what you like.”

“You know, I still don’t think this sounds as bad as you make it out to be.”

Nemel whimpered, turning a pleading expression towards Dame Verilyn. The truth remained that it wasn’t. Dame Verilyn had something everyone wanted, and they could probably offer more than House Gran had many times over. They would probably even get the potato farms along the way.

When it came their turn at the stall, Dame Verilyn purchased far too many skewers and walked away.

“I suppose we should find out what they’ll do,” Dame Verilyn said. “Being followed around all evening is not something I’d particularly enjoy.”

With a hopeless sigh, Nemel followed along until they reached the fountain in the centre of the plaza. What had she been doing all this time? General Ray had secured a week-long head start for her and she hadn’t made any moves to earn Dame Verilyn’s favour. Nemel sat down beside Dame Verilyn, nibbling despondently at the skewer she handed to her.

“Well, this is amusing.”

“What is?” Nemel asked.

“In the end,” Dame Verilyn answered, “I think I was right to categorise it as stalking. They’re like many different predators going after the same prey, but now that they’re all aware of one another they’re stuck sizing each other up.”

Nemel looked out in the direction that Dame Verilyn was looking, which was pointless. With Blindsight, the Frost Dragon could look everywhere at once. She focused on Dame Verilyn, who was wearing a slight smile. There was a cold gleam in her eye: as if she found what she saw entertaining, yet beneath her at the same time.

In the end, they finished their snack – or was it a meal? – and continued on their way without being approached by a single person. Nemel could sort of understand what was going on between all of the people following them.

Precedence was an integral part of imperial culture. One could find its observance from common conduct to the highest courts. Everything was ordered according to rank, prestige, wealth and any other number of things relevant to a given situation. There were probably so many different factions in contention that it had become a figurative snarl as they tried to sort themselves out.

There were all sorts of Noble factions, but the Imperial Dynasty towered above them all. But what if the Imperial Army got involved? Now you had powerful Generals who only answered to the Emperor and things started to get muddled. Then there were individual measures such as the quality of the agent, their apparent expertise, and the resources they had at their disposal. A dozen different things put the proper order in question.

General Ray’s quick response added another layer to that. A nobody Noble was in the place that everyone wanted, which threatened to throw everything into chaos. Nemel wasn’t sure if that part had been calculated, but it paralysed any decisive moves by major factions as smaller ones might see Nemel’s existence as precedent to overturn precedence.

It seemed that she was safe…at least until they sorted themselves out. In the interim, she needed to figure out how to convince Dame Verilyn that she shouldn’t entertain any of their overtures.

After wandering around the city and picking up six more ‘stalkers’, they returned to the merchant inn. Nemel idly gazed over the area, absorbing the warm, brisk atmosphere of their surroundings. Zu Chiru and his apprentices were speaking to different Merchants who were, in turn, doing an admirable job at keeping their expressions straight in front of their frightful faces. Her eyes crossed over Kurtis – who was sitting around with the other wagon drivers – and was reminded of an earlier discussion.

“See?” Nemel said, “Humans aren’t as bad as Kurtis says. The men and women here aren’t doing anything that he said we do.”

“These ones aren’t,” Dame Verilyn agreed. “But why is that? Zu Chiru and his apprentices are interacting with Merchants, who are accustomed to dealing with all sorts of clientele. Even if these Merchants are not as well-travelled as those sent out into the world by merchant companies, they all share a common culture and expectations for their dealings. To the inn’s staff, they are paying customers, and I’ve witnessed Humans accommodate far worse patrons in their establishments – who happen to be other Humans.”

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“It’s not just them,” Nemel pressed her case. “The Imperial Army didn’t give them any trouble at the gate; neither did the knight patrols in the city. Our Empire isn’t the nation of bigots that Kurtis suggests.”

Dame Verilyn ordered dinner for them. Nemel was already full from the market fare and she silently wondered how much weight she would put on by the end of their journey. They brought everything up to their suite to continue their discussion in private. Nemel cast several spells just in case something had been planted in their room or someone was trying to observe them with divination magic.

They seated themselves on two cushy couches with a small oak table between them.

“When all of your laws and rules are stripped away,” Dame Verilyn said, “what do Humans become? How do they behave? Never mind a lack of laws and rules, how do they act when they think no one is looking?”

“I…”

The question felt like a trap. One where she could only speak the truth if she wanted to survive unscathed. Due to her draconic senses, Dame Verilyn probably already knew the answer to her question.

“It depends on the person,” Nemel replied. “Some people do whatever they think they can get away with to get what they want. Others try to make the world around them a better place, even if it costs them.”

“Are those two not the same thing?” Dame Verilyn asked, “The latter is simply an application of the former. Achieving desired results within a range of acceptable tolerances. This is a part of the answer that I’m seeking from my journey, but it goes much deeper than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply put, I wish to understand the soul of humanity.”

Was she looking for some sort of philosophical…thing? Some of the more eccentric members of the Imperial Ministry of Magic wrapped themselves up in those types of studies. The Imperial Administration saw it as a potential avenue by which to eventually supplant the power of the Temples, but, as far as Nemel knew, they didn’t really get anywhere. Research was often like that, however, so they were allowed to continue despite their lack of tangible results.

Then again, Dragons were often associated with their own brand of magic…or at least Dragons of ancient legend were. Since Dragons were, by and large, legendary creatures, it was difficult to say what was what. How old was Dame Verilyn, anyway?

“That sounds like a question for the Temples,” Nemel said. “No matter what, though, the Empire has rules to ensure that a civilised society can prosper. It doesn’t matter what people are like inside.”

“In that case,” Dame Verilyn said, “why doesn’t the Empire have any Goblin citizens?”

“Because they’re Goblins.”

“I don’t understand why you keep doing that. You just said that it doesn’t matter what people are like inside – only that they follow the rules for a civilised society.”

Dame Verilyn reached into a pouch at her waist, producing a book with a crimson cover. She held it up between them.

“Have you read these novels?”

Nemel scanned the title, though she already had a good idea of what it was the moment it had appeared.

“I don’t know anyone that hasn’t,” she replied. “Dreams of Red is…wait, is that a ‘III’?!”

“Yes. Anyway, what do you think of the character ‘Rinne’?”

What do you mean ‘anyway’?! That’s Dreams of Red III! Everyone in the Empire has been waiting for that to come out. Dammit…why do Dragons have all the advantages?

She tried to crawl out from under the sheer unfairness of the world that pressed down upon her. Maybe Dame Verilyn would let her borrow it…

“If you’re trying to use her story as an allegory…well, it’s true that a lot of people find that kind of significance in Dreams of Red. But it’s almost always with the other characters.”

Every major character was like a force of nature in Dreams of Red, yet every reader found a part of themselves represented in them. Civilians identified with Clarence and Julian. Martial sorts latched onto Ludwig. Even the temples appreciated how religion was fairly incorporated into many of the characters.

The free-spirited Veronica was Nemel’s favourite: she didn’t have the advantages of the Nobles in the story and was often plagued with worries, just like Nemel. Yet Veronica doggedly kept going despite the often terrible things that happened and slowly worked her way up through small successes. Nemel had cried when Veronica finally met her soulmate in Ludwig and started to truly blossom.

Rinne, however…

“I think Rinne is nice,” Nemel said in the diplomatic way that many employed with fans of Rinne. “Probably too nice. That’s fine because it’s just a story and it makes people feel good, but can such a fluffy ball of warmth and acceptance truly exist? She’s talented in many ways, but she also just wins over everyone with pure charisma. All of the savage barbarian tribes; even the monsters! There’s absolutely no way that can happen in real life.”

“Rinne serves as the catalyst for that aspect of the story,” Dame Verilyn said, “but it doesn’t stop with her. All of the peoples that she touches go on to become citizens of the Great Hegemony. It doesn’t happen overnight and there are various things that everyone must learn, but it happens, yes?”

“It’s still a story. Realistically, Rinne wouldn’t exist and the Great Hegemony would have imposed order upon them. I’m sure Ludwig fans would have loved that.”

It would be a lie to say that Nemel didn’t find Ludwig’s military exploits exciting, but his most rabid fans just wanted him to conquer everything. He was a martial paragon who was idolised by the militant nobility, the vast majority of the Imperial Army, and those who aspired to their ideals. With order and strength came peace and prosperity.

“I find it strange that, despite your rejection of certain ideas presented in the story, you have an unwavering belief that order can prevail to create a better society. In my time here so far, this seems to be a common thread in the attitudes of the Empire’s subjects.”

“Every citizen of the Empire understands that what we currently enjoy as a nation is a result of the order established by generations of Emperors. And we do have a few Demihumans that live peacefully in the Empire.”

“What makes those ones so different from the ones attacked by imperial patrols?” Dame Verilyn asked, “The way that you’ve behaved on our journey so far demonstrates that some races are viewed no differently than vermin.”

Nemel wished she could force understanding into her words. They were of no threat to Dame Verilyn, which was probably why she could treat them with such indifference.

“Because Goblins and Giants and Giantkin like Trolls and Ogres are evil and violent and dangerous,” she said. “They attack people and eat them, or they raid our lands, destroy property, and steal livestock. We can’t afford to wait and see whether they’ll attack us because it’ll be too late for innocent citizens when they do.”

“You speak as if some part of their nature demands that they specifically attack Humans,” Dame Verilyn replied. “It should be as Kurtis says, yes? They act because they believe they must. If an understandable alternative is provided with sufficient incentive, then they would favour the alternative instead.”

“If it was that simple, then someone would have done it.”

Dame Verilyn cleared her plate. She seemed to fall deep into thought as she munched away.

“Simple…I see. That is something I had not considered, strangely enough. Are you going to eat that?”

Nemel looked down at her own dinner, which was barely touched. She shook her head, and Dame Verilyn reached out to bring it to her side of the table.

“Yes…this explains much that has puzzled me over the past few months.”

“What does?”

“Human simplicity. Dragons have a much different perspective than Humans do, which should not be a surprise. I suspect the same is true for many powerful races. How should I put it…instinct? If I’m flying around and see a Demihuman tribe living in a valley, many things occur to me with little active thought. What race they are; why they’ve settled there; the probable extent of their territory and activities based on what they need to live – I measure their impact on the local environment and potential interactions with other populations in the area. By doing so countless times with everything I observe, I create a picture of the world that would probably be inconceivable for most Humans.”

She did all that? It sounded like an unfathomably more advanced form of the work she did for the highway patrol. Assessing the land, identifying potential threats and keeping track of traffic was something she was still being trained to do.

“Why would that be something instinctual to you?” Nemel asked.

“Because I’m a Dragon?” Dame Verilyn answered with a tilt of her head, “Also, I mentioned that it probably happens with many powerful races. When one is powerful, they can do anything they wish. But this does not mean that they do things simply because they can. It is much like how intelligent predators don’t obliterate entire herds of Nuk for no reason, instead preferring to selectively cull away undesirable elements. The Nuk also understand this: the old, infirm, sick and weak sacrifice themselves for the greater good of the herd. Species that exist above must tend to those below. Drastic measures are taken only if they are deemed necessary for the greater good of the world’s balance.

“Humans, however, are amongst the weakest of races. Furthermore, they do not employ the broad, complementary strategies that other weak races like Goblins do. Humans are a weak race that seeks to dominate while not being blessed with the nature of those born to dominate. They do not respect the order of the world, instead striving to impose their own order upon it. This is the reason why Kurtis said that other races tend to see Humans as pests.”

Being cast in such a miserable light, Nemel could only slouch in her chair despondently. Were Humans really such a malignant race?

“I can see how I overlooked this,” Dame Verilyn mused. “The Humans I interact with the most do not have this perspective due to their positions…or rather they were raised to think differently than most Humans.”

“What makes them so special?”

“Lady Zahradnik is a Ranger. Rangers are effectively hunters or predators, so they are gifted with a similar, overarching perspective that allows one to consider nature in a wide-scale, systemic manner. Furthermore, she is what many races call a Warden. This places her in a position akin to those powerful races that I mentioned. She and her friends are also Nobles, effectively making them Human Lords able to easily grasp and understand the dynamics of the land and its people.”

“But I’m a Noble,” Nemel frowned. “This stuff isn’t something I’ve ever thought about.”

Dame Verilyn looked up from her meal, regarding Nemel sadly.

“It’s an unfortunate reality of being Human,” she said. “You were not born with knowledge and not guaranteed to effectively harness your instincts as a Human Lord. I recently learned that your offspring can’t even speak without needing to be taught, which is extraordinarily strange to me. Because of this, Humans are not uniform in their capabilities. A Noble ignorant of what they are, where they fit in the grand scheme of things and what they must do is simply an individual undeserving of their position as a Human Lord.”

“Erm…maybe I’m not that kind of Noble–”

“You are,” Dame Verilyn said. “You are a Human Lord, Nemel Gran…though not of a type I’ve seen before. I can sense that what I speak of is something that you understand. This understanding is not a product of rationalisation, but a feeling born of ability that you must learn to frame in ways you can apply. That you have begun to harness this ability also tells me something else: you’ve genuinely placed yourself in my keeping. This trust allows you to truly listen. What you learn will help you to realise your full potential as a Human Lord.”

Nemel felt like she was being instilled with some esoteric knowledge no one should be able to understand. Was this really alright?

“…why are you putting so much effort into me?”

“Because you’re supposed to pay me taxes. If I’m pleased with the results, I might even let you pay me more.”

“So that means you’re going to keep me even with all these other people trying to take my place?”

Dame Verilyn peered at her suspiciously.

“Are you trying to renege on our agreement?”

“N-not at all!” Nemel frantically waved her hands in front of her, “I’m perfectly happy with it!”

Dame Verilyn rose from her seat, brushing off the remnants of dinner.

“Good,” she said. “Hmm…it’s about time I got moving.”

“What are you doing?” Nemel asked.

Dame Verilyn smiled a smiley smile. Nemel wondered what it meant.

“Exploiting Human simplicity.”