Attempted Adventuring (The Attempted Vampirism Series Book 2)

by L. G. Estrella

  Blue Scales had seen a dragon once before, albeit only from a distance. Even at sea, it had proven deadly. He and his fellows had been forced to flee back into the depths. Those unfortunate enough to be left behind had been boiled alive by the dragon’s fury. On land, with the open sky above it and open ground below, a dragon would be close to unbeatable. His hands tightened on his trident. The weapon had served him well in countless battles, yet against the dragon, it suddenly felt wholly inadequate.

  “Dragon!” someone screamed, breaking free of the horrified shock that had paralysed the group. “Dragon!”

  “Run!” someone else cried. “We have to get out of here!”

  “Don’t bother,” an older adventurer growled. Blue Scales had spoken with the grizzled veteran many times over the past few weeks. He had been adventuring for decades, and what he lacked in raw power or talent, he more than made up for in experience. “Dragons are naturally drawn to movement. If you run, it’ll chase you, and we all know how that will end.” Nothing could match a dragon’s speed in the air. “We have to get off the road right now and hide. Come on. Abandon your belongings if you must. If you want to live, you’ll find some cover and stay there. If we’re lucky, it’ll be content with simply burning the caravan before leaving us be.”

  “It’s too late!” The warning came from an elf that had joined the caravan last week. “It sees us!”

  It did.

  The dragon banked with the lazy assurance of an apex predator with prey in its sight before its wings beat the air, and it soared toward them. Blue Scales watched it come. There was no sense in hiding now. The dragon had seen them. If they ran, it would kill them long before they could reach safety. If he was going to die, then he would do so on his feet with his face turned toward his enemy. He was no coward. They would not find him dead with burns only on his back. Dimly, he marvelled at the beauty of the dragon. It was a splendid creature with wings as wide as sails and scales the colour of freshly spilt blood. Its eyes were vivid amber, and even from a distance they burned into him. Its body was long and graceful, its form a perfect combination of grace and raw power. This creature was no mere brute, no lumbering ogre that relied purely on strength. There was a deep and malevolent intelligence in its gaze. It knew exactly what it was about to do, and it was going to enjoy it.

  As the dragon folded its wings and dove, the air came to life with arrows and Words. The dragon ignored the storm of projectiles the way an eagle would have ignored the angry outbursts of gnats. Blue Scales waited. He knew his lightning would not be enough. Already, several members of the group had unleashed blasts of electricity, and none had fazed the beast. He would wait until the dragon was closer before he used some of his strongest Words.

  Fire kindled in the dragon’s jaws, and it drew its head back to unleash their death.

  Blue Scales took a deep breath. Now was the time to act.

  [Overwhelming Tide].

  [Unrelenting Lightning].

  The two Words shook the air with their power.

  [Overwhelming Tide] seized every drop of water it could find and created even more. A nearby stream was emptied in an instant, and the formerly humid air turned dry. The Word even ripped water from the ground beneath him and the clouds overhead. Gathering and rising above him, the water thundered down on the dragon like the fist of an angry god. And it wasn’t alone. Bolts of lightning ripped through the air, a seemingly endless deluge of electricity that lit up the sky in a brilliant display of magical power as the roar of thunder rumbled over the area. Any normal foe would have been slain by the onslaught, and for a moment, Blue Scales dared to believe that he could drive the dragon away.

  The dragon took the full force of the attack – and it laughed.

  It was the joyous laugh of someone who had found an interesting toy, something worth savouring for a moment or two before it was cast aside. It was the laugh of someone so convinced of their own superiority that they could not, even for a second, imagine losing despite the forces arrayed against them. The lightning sluiced off the dragon’s scales, and the beast turned its head and unleashed its flame.

  Blue Scales had been to places where great vents spewed lava and toxic gases into the ocean. He had felt tremendous heat rise up from the very heart of the world to turn the sea into a mass of boiling water. That was nothing compared to dragon fire. The torrent – the deluge – of water evaporated in a heartbeat. Steam billowed outward, hot and blinding, and the dragon shifted to loose its flame upon the caravan. Blue Scales could barely hear the screams through the howl of the flames, and then the dragon landed amidst the carnage it had wrought. It spun, and a single swipe of its tail smashed bodies and wagons to pieces like kindling. Blue Scales shielded his eyes against the heat pouring off the dragon and charged. A dragon’s scales were said to be all but impenetrable, but it was on the ground now. If he could reach its eyes with his trident –

  There was a flash of movement too fast for his eyes to follow – by the gods how could anything that big move so fast – and pain erupted in his side. Only his instincts had saved him. The dragon had flicked one claw at him, yet at the last moment, he had managed to flinch away. Instead of being ripped in half, the wound merely ripped a deep gash in his side. Even so, the sheer force of the blow hurled him back. He slammed into a tree with enough force to break it. He tumbled onto his back, and his vision swam. The tree was burning. No. Everything was burning.

  And then he knew no more.

  When he had awakened, it had been to a nightmare. The caravan was gone. The people he’d spent the past few weeks travelling with – eating, laughing, and talking with – were nowhere to be seen. He could only hope that some of them had managed to escape, but it was far more likely they’d met their ends at the dragon’s claws and teeth or amidst its flames. He wouldn’t blame anyone for running. There was no shame in fleeing from a dragon. It was like running from a volcano or an earthquake. There were things people could fight – bandits, mercenaries, raiders – and then there were things they could only flee. Dragons were definitely one of the latter. Shaking his head, he looked for the dragon. It was nowhere to be seen. If he had to guess, it had probably returned to the ruins of the town. Dragons were known to enjoy lingering in the ashes of the places they burned.

  With a groan, Blue Scales was jolted back to the present by the pain in his side. Good. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t afford to let his mind wander too much, and he was dead if he lost consciousness again. The wound was too deep to go untreated for longer than a day or so. He’d have to use his magic to heal it, but he’d exhausted it in his efforts to fight the dragon and to survive the inferno that had followed. Moreover, dragons had magic of their own. Wounds they inflicted seldom healed easily, and that was assuming their foes survived, which was rare indeed. Forcing himself to continue along what had once been the road, he considered his options. First and foremost, he needed to get further away. There was no telling when the dragon would stir again. If he was caught in the open, that would be the end of him. There was also a river not too far away. At his present snail’s pace, it might take him a few hours to reach it. If he could immerse himself in its waters, he would be able to call upon the blessings of the gods of the Deep for healing and aid.

  It was far from ideal, but he didn’t have a choice. As much as it hurt, all he could do was put one foot in front of the other and slowly continue his journey. He bit back a pained grin. If he’d been well, it would have taken him less than an hour to reach the river. His expression sobered. He should be thankful he could still feel pain. The others in the caravan had not been so lucky. His hardened scales and magic had instinctively protected him even after he’d lost consciousness.

  He wasn’t sure how long he walked, but the pain in his side had gone from the kind that could help him stay focused back to the dull, spreading ache that made it difficult to keep his eyes open or think clearly. It was hard to tell the passage of time when each step felt like it took an hour, and smoke and as
h filled the air. Blearily, he looked up at the sun. It was a dull red from all the ash and smoke, but it hadn’t moved a lot since he’d awakened.

  He chuckled and then winced as fresh pain rustled through him. He was a proud warrior of his people. There was no shame in death at the hands of a dragon, but he could not allow himself to die without doing everything in his power to survive. At length, however, he realised he needed to rest. It was far too hot, and he’d gone a reasonable distance. If the dragon came back in search of more food, he’d likely gone far enough to avoid being the first thing on the menu. He looked around. There was a copse of trees nearby. Whether by chance, the favour of his gods, or simply the dragon’s capricious nature, the trees were unburnt. The shade they offered would be welcome, and he could stay there until the hottest part of the day had passed. Losing consciousness would be the end of him, as would heat exhaustion.

  He staggered to the trees and gave another laugh despite the pain. Truly, the gods were with him. These were apple trees, and there were several fruits dangling within reach. He’d never been overly fond of apples – he preferred oranges – but he wouldn’t say no to one now. Wincing as the movement tugged at his wound, he reached up and plucked a few apples before easing himself into a sitting position in the shade.

  He lifted an apple in one hand and crushed it into something resembling paste, so he could more easily drink its juice and eat it. The moisture was welcome, and the paste gave him fresh energy. After a few apples, his head was no longer spinning, and his thoughts were no longer mired in tar. With a newly clear mind, he assessed his situation again.

  In his current condition, he should be able to make it to the river in around an hour once it was cooler and easier to travel – assuming the dragon hadn’t evaporated it. After he’d healed himself, he could pursue his next step. With the caravan gone, he wasn’t going to be paid, and his funds were meagre at best since most of his possessions had been destroyed along with the caravan. At the very least, he ought to be able to pick up a small reward for providing firsthand information about the dragon, and there were always those who would pay to learn about what had happened to the caravan in more detail.

  He was still resting and regathering his strength when he heard footsteps. His eyes narrowed, and he got to his feet. Even wounded, he knew he would make for an imposing sight, and most bandits or looters would think twice before risking a fight against someone so large when there were likely to be easier pickings elsewhere. However, his concerns were for nought. Instead of bandits or looters, it was a child who stumbled into the copse of trees. The little girl was so exhausted that she barely noticed him at first, but then her eyes widened in what he could only describe as muted terror. Something else had already frightened this child, something so terrible that even he paled beside it. From the ashes and singe marks on her clothes, it did not take a scholar to realise what was responsible. Slowly, she backed away. She looked as though she wanted to run, but she was too tired to do anything more than inch backward. He called out to her as gently as he could.

  “Hello there.” At times like this, he rued his size. It made even a smile seem menacing. “Are you lost?”

  The girl looked at him for a long moment. She couldn’t have been more than five or six human years in age. She was scared but also tired and hungry. He could easily be the first living person she’d seen in hours, maybe even days, depending on when the dragon had begun its onslaught. He hadn’t seen anyone except her either. Even the animals of the fields and woods had not been spared the dragon’s wrath, and any animal smart enough to still be alive would also be smart enough to stay hidden until it was safer.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. He plucked another apple from the tree and offered it to her. “Why don’t you tell me what happened to you?” He turned and pointed to his side, so she could see his injury. “I was with other people, but then the dragon came. I’m the only one left, I think.”

  The words seemed to reach her. She gave a ragged, wailing sob and then rushed forward to clutch at his leg. He wouldn’t normally have appreciated a child crying on him, but if ever there was a time for tears, this was it. After all, there was only one reason a child her age would be wandering alone through the ruin left by a dragon. Eventually, she calmed down enough to speak although it was still hard to understand her through the tears.

  “My village got burned by the dragon.” She scrubbed at her cheeks. “My mommy and daddy told me to run, so I did, and now I can’t find them or my village.”

  Blue Scales sighed. It was likely the dragon had burnt the area where her village had been so thoroughly that no trace of it or its people remained. His gaze softened as he looked down at her. As a proud warrior of his people, he had once sworn an oath to see the innocent shielded from harm. There were few more innocent than children, and his vow said nothing about restricting his aid to those who dwelt in the Deep. “Do you have any other family? What about uncles or aunts?”

  The girl sniffled miserably. “My Uncle Balon lives in Averton.”

  Blue Scales hummed thoughtfully. Averton was the closest major town, and it was where he’d planned to go after healing himself. “Hmm… I can take you there. I am headed in that direction, but first I need to get to the river.” He nodded at his wound. “I am hurt, but the water will heal me.”

  “Are you a merman?” the little girl asked shyly. “I’ve heard about mermen, but I’ve never seen one before.”

  And wasn’t it a sign of her exhaustion and desperation that she hadn’t run off at the first sight of him? “Well, now you have, child.” He still wasn’t sure why she had trusted him so easily. She must be truly desperate for company after everything that had happened.

  “What’s… what’s your name?” she asked.

  “Call me Blue Scales.” He smiled and did his best not to let too many of his sharp, sharp teeth show. “And what is your name?”

  “Amy.”

  * * *

  Blue Scales relaxed ever so slightly when he caught sight of the river. Amy had been very brave so far, and she had listened closely to his instructions. She’d kept up as best she could given her exhaustion and small stature although his injuries kept him from moving at anything close to his full speed. Thankfully, they’d avoided any further trouble. He was confident he could scare off random bandits or looters even with his injuries, but fighting them off while protecting a child would have been far more difficult. Doing his best not to break into a run, he took careful note of their surroundings. As tempting as it was to rush toward the river, this was also the perfect place for someone to mount an ambush since water was a necessity.

  When he was certain the way was clear, he eased himself into the river. The water was cool and soothing against his scales, and he reached out to his gods and prayed for their aid. The gods of the Deep were at their mightiest in the seas and oceans, but they could transmit their power through any sufficiently large body of water. A jolt of cold ran through him as his wounds began to heal. It took almost half an hour – it would have taken less if his magic had not been so badly drained – but when he emerged, he was fully healed and his magical reserves were almost full.

  “You should drink,” he advised Amy. “And wash your face too.” He gestured. “I will look for something to keep water in. Most of my things were destroyed by the dragon.” She clutched at his leg fearfully, and he patted her head. “Do not fear. I will stay where you can see me. You are safe now.” It went unspoken that if the dragon returned, neither of them would be safe.

  Staying as close as he could, Blue Scales searched the riverbank. Only a few yards away, he found plants that could be hollowed out to make improvised gourds. Better still, he knew them to be safe. One of the other adventurers from the caravan had spoken of using them in emergencies, and this was definitely an emergency. He took several of the plants, hollowed them out, and then filled them with water. It wasn’t perfect. The water would taste a tad bitter, but it would be far better than going with
out water until they reached another river or stream. He glanced up. The sky had begun to darken, and the shadows were lengthening. Night was falling.

  “We should make camp,” he murmured. “But not here.”

  “Why not?” Amy asked quietly. She had carried as many apples with her as she could, using some of the scraps of her clothing as an improvised sack, and she was eating one.

  “People will be drawn to the river,” he explained. “But not all of them will be the kind we wish to meet.”

  “Oh.” She accepted his words without complaint. Like all villagers, she knew about bandits and other troublemakers.

  They made camp roughly half a mile from the water in a secluded area. Blue Scales was also careful to use some runes to help conceal them from intruders. They were mainly for use underwater, but they shouldn’t be totally useless on land. Sadly, runes were not his speciality. However, he could stay awake the entire night if he had to. In the Deep, he had often been called upon to stay awake for days on end to help fight off the murderous crabs that occasionally emerged from the Undersea.

  “What is it like in the ocean?” Amy asked.

  He wasn’t surprised that she was both reluctant to sleep and unwilling to talk about her village. She was young, but she wasn’t stupid. A dragon attacking a village full of normal people could only end one way. So he put a smile on his face and gestured, using a Word to shape some water to accompany his reply. “My people live in a great kingdom beneath the waves.” The firelight gleamed within the watery shapes and cast vivid shadows over their camp. “There are mountains and valleys in the Deep, just like on land, as well as vast forests of coral and seaweed. My people live in houses made of stone or coral, and we ride great eels from one place to another.”