by TJ Reynolds
Hammel glowered. His face was red as a spring beet, and he ground his teeth.
Then his eyes went wide and he burst into laughter. She joined him, and the two left the training grounds together. He threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “I shivving love you, Rhona. I swear, if there was ever a lass devious enough to be my sister, it was you.”
“Learned from the biggest scoundrel in all of the Dregs,” she said as she tossed her sword back into the barrel. As it clattered into place alongside a dozen others just like it, she realized it would be the last sword she’d use in combat. The only reason she’d done so was because Hammel had made her promise to spar him one last time. Promise met, and Rhona was happy to set down the sword permanently.
Yet when she walked away, she felt it tug on the strings of her heart. Though the sword was a way of life she was prepared to leave behind, she’d be a liar and a hypocrite if she pretended it didn’t sting just a little.
The farewell that followed took more strength than the sparring had. They both cried and denied their tears, promising to share ale and stories when life permitted them to do so once more. “I’ll come back to Creshon next Harvest, I promise,” she said, wiping her cheeks. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to retell that story in front of a larger audience.”
“At least it’ll give me a chance to earn my reputation back,” Hammel chuckled, and pulled her into a fierce hug. “Take care of yourself, little sister. I’ll miss you something fierce. Where are you headed… after home at least?”
She nodded, thankful he’d skipped over the awkwardness of her upcoming visit. “South. Palben told me of a master who lives far to the south of here. I’m headed there first. And then after… hells if I know.”
They shared an uncomfortable chuckle before embracing once more and going their separate ways. Rhona left the man behind, confident in her decision and also heartbroken. This must be how all soldiers feel when they leave the service. How else am I supposed to react to cutting off this portion of my life? It’s like losing a shivving leg!
Of course, the enlistment officer had much to say as she signed the three dozen scrolls necessary to discharge. “Could be shield sergeant in a year’s time if you sign up for another stint. I’ll even put in a good word with the Vermillion Guard. Come now, Corporal Bloodspar, what do you say? Don’t want to disappoint your father.”
Rhona forced a smile. Mentioning her lineage was a low blow. “Let me worry about him, and thanks for the offer, but no. I’ve thought about this aplenty. My time is through.”
She returned a pile of issued equipment, dusty from disuse. As most soldiers do, Rhona had purchased her own armor, sword, tent and boots. If the limiting factor in a fight was something as simple as the quality of the steel you held, most career soldiers invested in their lives.
Rhona pulled herself atop Honor’s back, her custom armor and carbonite sword fixed to the saddle in front of her. Then without any further doubts, she trotted away from the barracks.
Palben had been reassigned weeks ago, and they’d had their own drawn-out goodbyes. The man had single-handedly changed her life, and she’d never forget him. She’d broken the news to her squad mates already, and they’d forced her to drink her weight in ale for the betrayal. The duel with Hammel had been her final farewell, but there was the city itself to consider.
Stilling her mount at the apex of her favorite bridge, an arching stone monstrosity wide enough to allow three carts to pass side by side, she looked back on Creshon.
The capital of Brintosh was over-crowded, filled with traders, soldiers, whores, and beggars. It smelled like coal fires, fish head soup, and dung. But she loved it nonetheless. The three towers of the king’s castle broke the skyline like tourney lances, and a flock of gulls winged by, intent on reaching the ocean for another easy meal. Afternoon sun spilled across the stone buildings all around, coloring their facades like wine spilled over parchment.
Then she ran a hand through Honor’s mane. Shaking off the urge to return to everything she’d known, to the drilling, the field work, the long hours and nights spent blind drunk with comrades and strangers, Rhona spurred her horse onward. She drowned her thoughts in the hollow clop of Honor’s hooves trotting across the cobblestone pathways leading away from Creshon.
After leaving the confines of the city proper, she pushed her mount to race faster. The surrounding fields of wheat and barley blurred together with hovels and homesteads.
You’ve made the right choice, Rhona. No reason to turn back now.
Another thirty minutes of travel found her beside a happy stream.
She unsaddled Honor and set him grazing before throwing up a quick lean-to. Her squad had found this gem of a campsite years ago, and she’d slept here dozens of times since. Only five minutes ride from the King’s Road, a grove of cedars grew around a curve the in river. It was shaded in the summer, and a thick hedge of brush along the stream blocked the worst of the winds in winter.
Rhona had her boots off, her feet numbing in the frigid water in moments.
The familiar forms of brook trout darted below an overhanging bush, the shaded pool a perfect place to set down a line. Any soldier worth their monthly pay could fish. And so as the light in the sky grew dim, Rhona pulled out the short, wooden jig she packed away for such occasions.
Catgut fishing line and a hook tied to a spoon was all she needed.
She tossed out her first cast then began a slow retrieval, watching the spoon flash in the depths. You’ve made the right choice, Rhona, she told herself once more. She’d been repeating the phrase mentally for weeks now. And Rhona believed it.
Good and well, girl. Good and well. But will your father feel the same?
Knowing the answer did little to calm her nerves.
The second cast, this one aimed further below the cover of water-swept limbs, produced her dinner. With a flurry of splashes and protest, Rhona pulled out a brook trout as long as her forearm. She cracked its neck backwards with a practiced motion, then stood up.
She’d make a fire, boiled the trout in a pot, and even scrounged up a handful of herbs that grew nearby. After sprinkling in some salt, it would be a meal fit for any traveler.
She’d relish every step, appreciate each moment of the lazy evening. All she hoped for now was that sleep would come when she laid down her head for the night. Yet she had her suspicion that no such luck would befall her. How can I sleep, a half day’s ride from home, and heading back to tell a career soldier his only child has left the service? she asked herself and found no answer.
Looking down at the dead fish in her hands, she realized she wouldn’t mind switching places with the poor creature. At least it didn’t have to fear disappointing its narrow-minded father.
5
When Two or More
Kai
When Kai woke at last, his ears were ringing and his whole body ached, from his toenails to the hairs on his head. He groaned, rolling onto his side and hacking up gobbets of something vile. A strange song kept repeating itself in his head, and if the dry crust at the corners of his mouth were any indication, he had been there for a long time.
Mango fruit! Mango fruit!
Who wants to pick my pretty mango fruit?
Mango fruit, hey! Mango fruit, yeah!
The girl who asked to see my manly roo-oo-oot!
And on it went.
Kai sat up with a start, realizing that he was still within the accursed dungeon. What the icy depths is going on? And what by the nine gods is a shivving mango fruit? Suddenly, the song stopped, and Kai sighed, relieved that whatever shock had jolted his mind was wearing off. At least I’m not going mad.
To Kai’s dismay, the voice returned.
Mad? I should hope not. I finally get a dragon back and he’s a scrawny boy no less, then I find his kettle is full of oil instead of steam? Wouldn’t be fair.
Kai tried to stand, but his head swooned, so he fell into a crouch instead, then slowly walked
his hands up the nearest wall till he was on his feet once more. Kai kept talking to himself, an encouragement that he felt he both deserved and needed. You’re fine. Hearing voices in your head is normal … sometimes. You had a knock to your noggin when you fell, is all. No need to panic. And I’m not a shivving boy! I’m a man of nineteen years!
The voice spoke again, this time it sounded a bit annoyed. Since when do nineteen years make you a man? You’re fine. Just calm down, and let’s get on with the rebuilding. There’s much work to be done after all.
Kai looked at his hand, the one he’d touched the Earth Core with and noted it was covered in dried blood. Glancing back at the pedestal that still held up the rocky chalice containing the still-glowing gem, he saw the core had reformed. It was no longer a pile of shattered slivers but a solid and beautifully glowing stone.
It’s wonderful, was all Kai could think.
Thank you. I am glad you think so. I’ve always been a bit self-conscious of my size. Some older Earth Cores are massive. But as my old master used to say, it isn’t the size of the skiff but the skill one applies to the rudder! To be honest, though, I haven’t the foggiest notion what he meant.
With each word, the Earth Core gave off a subtle pulse, as if it were somehow speaking to him. His ears agreed that the whole thing was wrong, his own shaky breath the only sound in the cold chamber. It was as if he were hearing the Core’s voice in his head.
Ignoring this piece of instinctive wisdom, Kai decided the only proper thing to do was panic. Searching the floor a moment, he saw the dagger he’d borrowed to enter the dungeon had disappeared. “Oh, by Briga’s braid,” he swore, “Karsen is gonna kill me when he finds out I lost his brother’s blade!”
Hardly a blade. Little more than a pocket knife really, and well, that was my fault, sorry. It's just that I was so hungry, and it isn’t like you woke me up with anything substantial to eat. So, I snacked on that bit of steel is all.
The whole situation was uncanny, far too strange to process. Kai ran, throwing caution to the wind, and sprinted past the two collapsed passages and up the steps. All the while, the voice kept speaking to him. No need to run away. Those angry little men have all left anyhow. Took off running as soon as I woke up. Please, just calm down and listen. Besides, you know it’s useless to flee. You can’t leave, because…
Kai screamed. He’d made it up the stairs, through the upper chambers, and to the entrance to where he should be able to see the setting sun, or depending on how late it was, at the very least, the stars.
But a smooth slab of stone now blocked the entrance to the dungeon.
“Oh, no!” Kai searched the wall with his hands, hoping to find a gap or crack he could pry at. “Uncle Shem was right! I’ve doomed myself with ambition!” After pawing at the stone for a time, he fell in a heap, terror springing into his heart like a hound unleashed. He huddled on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, and buried his head in the tangle of his limbs.
After a few minutes, he managed to catch his breath. He blinked away the tears that had found their way to his eyes, unbidden.
The Core spoke to him then, its voice tinged with a gentleness that hadn’t been there before. Please, come back down and let’s have a proper chat. I won’t keep you here, it's not my intention to hold you captive. It's just that when you woke me, I felt the greed, fear, and hatred just oozing off of two of those young men outside. I thought they’d come in and hurt you, so I used all of my strength to seal them away. I can reopen the passage once I regain some ether.
The unyielding cold of the stone did more to settle Kai’s thoughts than any efforts of his own. The Earth Core seemed to understand his need for solitude because it stopped pleading with him. In the cool quiet that followed his panic, Kai’s brain finally began to work again.
He knew he was trapped in a dungeon, one that had been broken by Brintoshi soldiers years ago. That same Earth Core was now repaired and whole, but through what means he could not guess. Kai had no weapon, borrowed or otherwise. Yet there seemed no present need for one; only dust called this place home.
Thinking of the mountain of rock and rubble hanging above him and sealing him in threatened to rekindle the flames of terror once more. He shook his head and focused on logic. He wasn’t dead, not yet at least, and that was a promising start.
The only thing he had to confirm was whether the voice in his head was indeed from the restored Earth Core down below.
Should I just go downstairs and talk to it? He wondered what passed for ears on a shining gem.
A cheerful voice answered his thought instantly, Sure would be nice to be closer to you again, but there is no need. I can hear you fine from where you are.
Kai flinched back and knocked the back of his head against the stone slab. He rubbed the slowly rising lump and responded, this time aloud, “You can read my thoughts? You don’t need me to speak out loud at all?”
No need at all! We’re bonded so I can hear your thoughts quite clearly. I can even sense your feelings. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do the same with me. Neat as a night owl, isn’t it?
The young man thought about it for a time, and though still upset he couldn’t get outside and run back to Mindonne and spend the rest of his coin on as much mead or ale as he could afford, he had to admit that communicating with a real Earth Core was incredible. I guess so. My… my name is Kai. It’s nice to meet you?
The dungeon didn’t seem to mind that Kai’s last sentence had come out as a question. Instead, he babbled out a response with unrepressed joy. It is! Kai, a lovely name, I say. Not so common anymore, though it used to be long ago, at least if my old master could be trusted. Oh! Apologies for my manners. It’s been years, Kai, so please forgive me. My name is Bancroft. And I’m ever so grateful that you healed me. Time is a slow, cruel thing when your mind is shattered yet you aren’t permitted the luxury of death.
Seeming to realize he’d been rambling, the Earth Core stopped suddenly. Kai’s brain exploded with a thousand thoughts, but he settled on just one. Bancroft? That’s a nice name.
Thank you! Yes, Bancroft the dungeon at your service, but please, since we are core-bonded, please just call me Ban.
Kai nodded. This was getting somewhere, and if he had to be mysteriously bonded to an Earth Core, he was grateful that at least it was a kind and polite one. Wait. Kai stopped, as a thought nagged at him. What did you mean about the luxury of death? I thought all shivvered Earth Cores were more or less dead.
The sigh that filled Kai’s mind was as sad as anything he’d ever heard. No, I’m afraid not. I’m not sure if the rest were like me, but my master had at least prepared me for what was to come. He said that when the dragons fell, the dungeons would be next. I tried my best to defend myself, but the men who came crushed my minions easily, stole every treasure I’d made, and crushed me with a war hammer. I remember crying out in pain and then endlessly spinning. I could feel the world, dangling just beyond my grasp, but the most I could do was occasionally glimpse images of the area around my dungeon.
Having the world just out of reach seemed an exquisite torture, and a thread of compassion seeped into Kai’s heart. I’m so sorry. That’s awful. You keep mentioning your master ... do you mean your dragon?
Yes, I do. And I’ve missed him very much. He must be dead, or if lucky, maybe he fled across the sea or hid somewhere deep in the mountains. I have little hope though. He told me that the dragons would most likely all die in the years to come. His name was Yorick, and though he wasn’t as majestic as some of the more powerful dragons, he was exceptionally wise. He would have been very grateful for your assistance. Most wouldn’t willingly donate their Progression to revive a stranger.
What? I didn’t drain my Progression… did I? I’m just twenty-two away from ascending to Crimson, Kai said, anxiety clawing at his gut.
Ban’s reply came out as little more than a whisper. Well, I’m sorry to say, but your Progression is currently 0. I’m not sure why
you healed me, but I am thankful, and I hope my friendship will be worth the sacrifice.
Kai’s stomach plummeted. He’d worked so hard to increase his Progression. He’d killed over a hundred squirrels and at least a dozen rabbits, for Andag’s sake! And now he was back at zero? Maybe he could visit Jakodi and the wizard could do something about it. Ban could be mistaken after all. But if he wasn’t, how long would it take for Kai to ascend now?
Unanswered questions continued to pile up in Kai’s mind, only interrupted when a rumbling growl filled the air, echoing off the walls in its ferocity. Kai’s stomach had its own demands.
My, that was a frightful sound. You must be hungry then. My master ate often. I wish I had some pie for you, but well, I don’t even have the ether to summon a deer. And now that I think of it, I’m not sure I remember how.
I don’t need to eat a whole deer. I’m not a dragon, Kai said, then remembered his apples. He pulled one from his satchel and crunched into it. This one was sour, but he crunched through it anyhow. If this was his only food, he would have to cherish it.
Not a dragon? Ha, right! And I’m not a lump of luminescent rock but a willow grove. I do have an idea … It isn’t very elegant, though, or very appetizing, but… would you eat a rat?
Kai scrunched up his brow. Why was the dungeon talking about willow groves? Yeah, I’ve had plenty of rats, unfortunately, but there’s none in here. And what do you mean, not a dragon? I’m just a man. I came from Mindonne, and before that, my uncle’s farm. My mother was a soldier in the Brintoshi army.
The silence that followed was enough to make Kai nervous. He paced the room and even thought of heading back down into the core room. No, he would stay where he was. No need to get closer to the glowing gem again, not yet at least. But the fact that the core had argued with him, called him a dragon of all things, and now it was still …
