“I am sorry, Mr. Warrenberg. I have to tell you that I am a big fan of your work,” the gnome gushes, his face a beacon of joy. “I used a variation of your pulley system to create the entrance to my tower. I’m afraid it is still a work in progress.”
Fritz smiles back at the dragon and turns back to the platform, which is beginning to sink back to the ground floor. “I can see that. I would recommend retractable railings along the edge to prevent someone from falling off. What kind of engine are you using, mister . . .”
“Oh, where are my manners? My name is Dragoneye,” the gnome says, throwing out his arms and bowing low to the ground. “At least, that is what I call myself in mortal tongue. I think it sounds mysterious and . . . is that a drite? I have not seen one of you forest fliers for fifty years.”
“Fizzle say hi. Here for ride,” squeaks the drite.
“Of course. Now, for your question,” Dragoneye says, taking a deep breath that only a dragon could inhale. “The engine I have was originally a steam engine prototype of your people. I changed it with some theories that I read about in some journals. I made it that the engine works off magnetic waves and pulls the metal cables through your pulley system by using these waves. I believe you’re familiar with the wave system in theory since your daughter is the one who proposed it.”
“She’s a spark off the old explosion,” Fritz says, smiling proudly. “I never expected a being of your stature to be a fan. I’m sincerely humbled.”
“Would you like to have some food and drink?” Dragoneye politely offers. “I can have a fresh pot of spark tea ready in minutes.”
“Thank you. I always have time for tea,” Fritz states.
Two plush chairs and a wooden perch grow out of the ground in the middle of the roof. Fizzle and Fritz take their seats as a table steps out of a doorway. It is covered in a lace tablecloth and has three plates carefully balanced on it. A sugar bowl slides from end to the end until the table stops between the chairs. Fritz is amazed that the cream is still in its lidless pitcher instead of spilled across the tablecloth. A plate of fruit-filled cookies spins out of the doorway and slowly lands on the table.
“Sorry it took so long. The tea should be warm, but not scalding,” Dragoneye says as he summons a steaming kettle to the table.
“I’m impressed. You have spectral servants to do this?” Fritz asks, taking a red cookie. He bites into it and tastes fresh strawberries.
Dragoneye pours him a cup of tea as he admits, “No, I stopped using those a long time ago. My belongings are all enchanted. It took years to get them all semi-sentient. Now, I made the tea myself by using a time spell. I know how limited your lifespan is, so I do not want to waste too much of your time.”
“That’s very kind of you. You’re an excellent host and a good inventor from the look of your entrance,” Fritz states with genuine friendliness. “For not being a gnome, you have an amazing grasp of the workings and design of technology.”
“I learned it all from your books. I also studied the notes of your teachers and others that claim to be on your level. The concept of chemistry still eludes me since I believe magic can be used in its place,” their host says with a grin that shows he still has razor-sharp teeth. “Do you have a question, little one? You have this look about you.”
“Why you gnome?” Fizzle asks.
“Well, I have always had an admiration for gnome society. Their society feels like the world that I would have chosen had I not been born a dragon,” Dragoneye explains, his voice alternating between stern and whimsical. “Dwarves are too rugged for my liking even though they mine the materials I use for my experiments. Elves and humans are far too arrogant. Both of them think that they are the most important races in Windemere, which is a distasteful mentality. I cannot see myself as any of the orc-kin because I find myself more civilized. I am sorry, but that was rude of me. I guess they are civilized in their own way. Still, I prefer the gnomish way of life.”
“Halfling?” inquires Fizzle.
“Too hyper and fun-loving for me,” their host promptly declares. “I do not think I could allow myself to become that wild and carefree.”
Fritz sips some tea and smacks his lips as they go numb from the taste. “This tea is exquisite. I feel strange accepting such hospitality after I embarrassed you this morning. You have my sincerest apologies.”
“Think nothing of it. People in Hero’s Gate know me, so it was not like I revealed a deep secret. Your instincts must be very good to sense me out,” Dragoneye responds, taking a deep drink of his tea. He lets out a satisfied sigh as steam comes out his nostrils. “Although, I do not believe you were fully aware of your perception. I notice that it happens with your people. A gnome will see through an illusion without realizing it and reveal it by accident. I was surprised that your caster friend did not see through it. Is she less skilled than I thought?”
“Nyx is very good at what she does, but I think she is more talented with casting magic than seeing through it,” Fritz claims with a grin. He picks out another cookie and hands it to Fizzle. “Please realize that she is very young and you’re an elder dragon. Give her time and she will tear down your illusions out of instinct.”
“Fritz teach her,” Fizzle chirps.
Dragoneye uncomfortably stares at Fizzle. “No, he will not.”
“Why?” the drite asks.
“Fritz will not be alive much longer,” Dragoneye says with a few tears in his eyes. “This is why I am so happy to have met you. It would have been a lost opportunity if you had passed through and I failed to meet with you.”
“Fritz no die,” Fizzle declares. The drite throws his cookie off the tower and flaps his translucent wings in anger.
“Calm down, Fizzle,” the gnome softly requests. He quietly sips his tea while the drite looks to be on the verge of tears.
“I am sorry to break this news to your friend. It has been very hard for me to accept this fact since I scryed it,” the elder dragon says with a steady voice. “I promise that when the time comes, I will personally take your body to the metal city of Voran. Your god will be proud to have you in his favorite city. I will see that your body is enshrined among the great heroes of your people.”
“Fritz no die!” Fizzle screams. His rage summons a wind that launches the table off the tower. Fritz and Dragoneye are quick enough to grab their cups of tea.
“Please don’t make this any harder, Fizzle,” Fritz begs, his voice beginning to choke up.
“I no understand,” the drite sniffles.
“I have known that my death will occur on this journey for a long time,” Fritz admits, avoiding the surprised expression on Fizzle’s face. “This is why I sent a message to my daughter about meeting me in Rodillen. I wanted to see her one more time and give her my most treasured notes. With them, she can create a flying city in the clouds. It will work off her theory of magnetic waves instead of magic like flying cities of the past. I could not complete this dream, but I’m sure that she can do it within months.”
In misery and confusion, Fizzle repeats, “I no understand.”
“You see, Fizzle, a vision of one’s death is natural for a gnome and it comes in the form of a void appearing in both sections of our minds,” Fritz explains, trying to be as precise and clear as he can. “The sudden disappearance of thought means we will die if we continue our actions. It’s the reason we take such risks with our inventions and why gnomes rarely die in lab explosions. If the void occurs then we stop, but if we continue to have thoughts and ideas then we stay on our course. It’s a form of self-precognition. I know that continuing with all of you will result in my death. I have known this since I stepped into Visindor Forest and again when I entered Gaia.”
“Fritz stay here. Leaf dragon keep Fritz,” Fizzle stubbornly demands.
“He knows that he cannot stay here. This is more than a void if I am not mistaken,” Dragoneye says, casting a knowing glance at Fritz.
“Yes, I feel that my death will
be necessary. It isn’t clear how or when I will die, but I know that my death will serve some kind of purpose. I won’t know the time until is almost upon me, so I have to continue with my friends. It’s the right thing to do,” Fritz says with a serious tone that puts Fizzle at ease. “I ask that you keep this a secret from the others, Fizzle. Luke and the others will try to protect me, but that could put them in danger. If I die to keep all of you alive then that is the way I wish to die. Swear to me that this remains our secret.”
“Friend swear,” Fizzle sniffles. The drite flutters over to Fritz’s shoulder and curls around his neck.
Dragoneye is about to say something else when the eyes of his tower burst into bright beams. The green light arches over the farmlands as the workers look up to the sky. Fritz is surprised to see all of them drop their tools and run toward the city. Frantic parents are carrying terrified children as they rush through the western gate. The guard by the gate quickly closes and locks the gate once all of the farmers and their families are inside. A shrill cry escapes the mouth of the dragon tower and Fritz can see the streets clear out.
“What’s going on?” Fritz asks.
“Something is coming,” Dragoneye growls, nervously gazing out at the distant wilderness. “This is an early warning system that I built into my tower for the sake of the city. The city will be preparing itself for an attack. All citizens will blockade themselves in their homes.”
“Wait a second. Most of the warriors of Hero’s Gate went to fight the bandits,” Fritz mentions.
The old gnome’s eyes become reptilian and a primal growl rolls out of his throat. “If that is the case then I am the only defense left for this city.”
“I have to get back to the River Scout and warn Captain Higgs,” Fritz states, his voice filled with fear and worry.
“Fizzle ready,” the drite announces, fluttering his wings.
Dragoneye pulls Fritz into another crushing embrace. “Good luck, Mr. Warrenberg. I was honored to have met you. May all your experiments be successful.”
Fizzle whispers his spell as Dragoneye lets go of Fritz. The two adventurers vanish in a puff of rainbow smoke as their host looks out to the horizon. He takes a deep breath before letting his body transform. The four leafy wings unfurl from his body as he steps off the edge of the tower and soars into the midday air. His gnomish form twists and stretches until it regains the shape of a lean and powerful Darkvawn dragon. A soaked beard winds its way out of Dragoneye’s chin as he flies into the distance. Minutes pass before people begin to hear the sound of battle and a dragon’s piercing roar.
*****
Nimby and Myilia decide to take in the atmosphere as they leave the small table in front of the café. Myilia is no longer dressed as a sailor, which was a small shock for Nimby at first. He met her at the café expecting the same halfling that he spent time with in the crow’s nest. Instead, he found a halfling woman with neatly brushed, chestnut hair braided cascading down to her ankles and wearing a low-cut dress of blue. A pair of cute, red slippers was the final touch on Myilia’s transformation from sailor to lady. For most of their short meal, Nimby could only comment on how beautiful she looked. Myilia found it amusing that he would only speak about himself if she asked a specific question. She hoped that he would talk more when they started walking around Hero’s Gate.
“I have to admit that you didn’t disappoint me. The meal was very filling and the single rose was a romantic touch,” Myilia says, sniffing a red rose from Nimby. “Though, your conversation skills were surprisingly lacking. I do hope you talk more about yourself. A girl loves being complimented, but I want to know more about you and hear some stories. I’m a halfling after all.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” he sheepishly admits.
“I noticed. If you stared at me any longer, I’d think you were falling asleep on me,” she teases him with a gentle poke to his ribs.
“Well, you look very pretty in that dress,” Nimby declares.
“You’re just happy that I don’t leave much to the imagination,” Myilia accuses him with a flirty smile. She grabs Nimby by the arm and gives him a playful kiss on the cheek.
Nimby blushes and feels a tingle up his spine. “I’m not like that.”
“That’s why I like you. Do you have any plans for when we reach Gods’ Voice and deliver Kellia?” she asks. They continue down an alley where they smell fresh bread cooling on a high sill.
“I will probably be staying with Luke if he goes on another adventure,” he answers after some thought. “That’s if everything goes smoothly on this one. There really isn’t any other place I want to go.”
Myilia sighs wistfully and makes a little spin as they walk. “I would ask if you could work on the River Scout, but I don’t think someone like you would enjoy it. You’re too much of a wanderer. Guess that’s your loss in the end.”
“It probably is,” Nimby agrees.
A shrill noise cuts through the calm wind. Nimby and Myilia watch as people suddenly stop what they are doing and run into the surrounding buildings. The streets become deserted as the halflings make their way through the town. Neither of them say anything as they hear shutters close and doors slam.
“This is strange,” Myilia whispers, her face slowly showing her fear.
Nimby frowns at the interruption, but quickly puts on a happy face. “I don’t like the look of this, but at least we’re in the city.”
The sound of large wings beating the air can be heard on the other side of the city wall and it takes a few moments for Nimby to catch a glimpse of the source. It is only for a second that he sees the glistening head of a Darkvawn dragon rise above the rooftops. By the time Myilia looks up, Dragoneye is blocked from view by the rooftops. Both halflings stand still until they hear a monstrous roar in the distance.
“I think things will be fine. Follow me,” Nimby says.
“If you say so,” she replies, letting him take her hand.
“Now, what do you want to talk about?” he asks with a charming smile.
“You. I know you’re an independent thief, but what else can you tell me?” Myilia asks, her voice still quivering with fear. “I know almost nothing about you and here I’m walking around a deserted town with you.”
“Not much to tell,” Nimby nonchalantly admits, scratching his head. “I don’t have any family. I’ve been a thief for my entire life while I moved from town to town. It was an easy way for me to live without going into an orphanage. I would get myself adopted off the street by a family and stay with them until I got bored. Then, I would take enough money and food to get to the next town and leave. That’s been the majority of my life.”
“Where does the carpentry come from?” Myilia quickly asks, trying to keep up the momentum of Nimby’s sharing.
Nimby smiles at the memories that come to his mind. “The longest time I ever spent with a family was with this old carpenter when I was eleven. He taught me all he knew over the course of two years and the rest I studied from his books. I actually didn’t leave him like the other families. I came home one day to find him murdered in his favorite chair. The local authorities investigated everyone that he knew and learned of my past, so they chased me out of town. It was soon after I left that I did my time with the Rodillen guild, which didn’t last very long. After that, I wandered over to Gaia and then to Selenia’s school. I’ve been at the academy for the last four years.”
“So, you’re a retired thief,” she jokes, already knowing the answer that she will get.
“A thief never retires,” Nimby claims, his words sounding well-rehearsed. “We merely stop and wait for people to forget about us. A thief is always a thief.”
“That’s so profound,” she says sarcastically.
“Here we are,” the thief states as he rounds a corner.
Myilia looks down the road and sees the Flooding Falls in front of them. The gorgeous waterfall stands at one hundred feet tall. The water is a deep, royal blue because it falls fro
m a chute of azure stone. This crashing water fills the air with a dull roar while mist billows from the smooth stones. Nimby climbs onto the edge of the stones and begins to lead her to the top of the falls.
“It’s slipperier than a storm soaked deck!” she yells over the roaring water.
“You know about the legend of this waterfall?” he asks, reaching for another handhold. Myilia’s foot slips on a stone and she is about to fall when Nimby quickly catches her arm. He gives a small tug to hoist her up until she is face to face with him. She clutches the nearest handhold while catching her breath.
“It’s rumored to be the source of Ralian’s rivers. Everyone knows that old story, Nimby,” she answers, suspiciously eyeing him.
“That’s the rumor of the Flooding Falls, which can be easily proved or disproved through investigation. Somebody just has to bother to research it,” Nimby says while carefully feeling for the next handhold. “A legend is something that requires you to believe without proof. The legend of the falls is that a couple will have a good, long life if they reach the top together. I might be a little forward since we barely know each other, but I think the view from up there is a nice way to end our date.”
“You sure move quickly. Then again, life is short,” she mutters. A cloud of mist passes over them, making it impossible to see until it disappears.
Nimby reaches down to help her. “Enjoy life while you can.”
The top of the waterfall is covered in mist with the only clear view being that of the lands to the north. Nimby and Myilia take in the view as they balance among the slippery stones. A swirling wind from the north pushes Myilia’s wet hair in all directions. The noon sun glints off the mist, making Myilia’s dress stick to her body. Nimby tries not to notice the dress and keeps his sight to the north.
“What if I was to tell you that this is my last voyage with the River Scout?” Myilia whispers into his ear.
“I would ask why and wait for an answer,” he replies, hoping to make her laugh.
“Going up and down the L’dandrin is fun and all, but I need more stability in my life. I told Captain Higgs before we left Gaia that this would be my last voyage with him. He wasn’t happy, but he understood my reasons,” she explains, her eyes looking out to the river where she can see the River Scout bobbing in the choppy water. “I’m going to stay with the Freedom dock crew and act as their weather watcher. Their current weather watcher will be taking my place on the River Scout. I may do the occasional guided tour down the river if I feel like being on the water again. I don’t really have anything to keep me in Freedom beyond the job, but I would like to start something stable.”
Legends of Windemere: 02 - Prodigy of Rainbow Tower Page 22
