by James Patton
The Veragon was sitting on a boulder in front of the table, and he had a feast in front of him, with a cooked bird as the main course. It reminded her of a turkey, but it was probably an osprey. Those birds were the most abundant thing on this island that could feed this creature, at least that she had seen so far.
Bones crunched as the beast chomped down on his food and looked at her smiling. Bits of food and bone jutted through the sharp triangular teeth and the bones cracking were not as bad as the tearing of wet meat. Her face must have turned green because the Veragon dropped the bird’s leg, and use a towel to clean his face.
“You two-legs are squeamish. If you are hungry, help yourself.” The Veragon was smiling at her and waved her to a seat. It took her a full few seconds to realize he was not talking like the simpleton outside the cave and that the whole ‘I eat’ thing had been a joke.
Tension eased out of her as she started laughing at the big monster and could appreciate its sense of humor. Humor was a sign of intelligence, which those other Champions failed to understand. The Veragon and her shared the meal while he told tales of how he had lured other Champions to their deaths.
“This Trial is that simple?” She asked after they spent an hour or two talking.
“Simple? Maybe. Why didn’t you draw your weapons?”
“Honestly? If I fired this gun, I’d most likely harm myself, and the knife just seemed pointless.”
The Veragon let loose a deep belly laugh while pounding on the table. The table was stable enough that the dishes barely even jumped.
“This trial is to make a Champion understand that strength of arms will not win all battles. Sometimes a simple ‘hello’ will end the confrontation before it starts. The one you call Oscar is talented and creative when it comes to warfare, but he has not learned the art of diplomacy.”
“I shot a man earlier.” She admitted. “There was very little talking.”
“Would diplomacy have worked?”
“No. It was a different kind of communication.”
“Violence is its own form of diplomacy. I have not known you long, but you do not seem the type of person that resorts to casual violence.”
She started laughing. “I am not laughing at you, just realizing how much those other Champions have underestimated you.”
“I do feel bad for them, but I cannot let them pass without actually passing the trial.” The Veragon was clenching and unclenching his fist, and she could see a scar from shoulder to elbow. “Their increasing numbers are concerning. Those weapons may not cause much damage, but if enough of them team up… who knows.”
“Alright, so now what?”
“Through that door is your reward. It is not dangerous, so take your time. No one is rushing you, and you can learn a lot.” The Veragon pointed towards a doorway framed in black quartz and along each side were a series of runes she could not read. “Once you choose, a glowing pillar will appear near the door. Touch it, and you will find yourself on the beach near town. Good luck.”
“It was nice talking with you. Have fun teaching us two-legs humility,” she told him. The Veragon’s laughter followed her across the threshold.
The room she entered felt like the lobby of a museum, and from this lobby were six hallways leading off into the distance. All along the corridors were archways leading into various rooms, and those rooms had more archways leading into other rooms. It was like a maze.
Each wall had banners, standards, flags, pennants, and more adorning them. She did not know the difference between those words, so she settled on calling them all banners.
Each banner had a unique background and trimmed in a variety of fashions. Emblazoned in the middle was a symbol, some were dragons, but many were just random images and pictures. The only other thing of note was that some had tassels, and the cut along the bottom varied between squared, triangular, and inverted triangles.
The colors, symbol, and even the design all meant something. Relying on her empathy and instincts, she inspected each banner she came across.
A red banner depicted a dragon with a spear through its stomach, and a knight in heavy armor stood over it triumphantly. The connotations and depiction garnered an instant dislike from her, but she had no explanation as to why it felt wrong.
The dragon’s head turned towards her as it projected off the banner, and it spat blood on the ground at her feet. It sounded like it was coughing up a lung, but it was unmistakenly laughing.
“Canna say I e’er saw a Mercury Elf. Whaddya want?” The dragon had a Scottish accent if she was not mistaken, but it spoke with a derisive tone as if she was not good enough to waste his time.
“Nothing, go back to dying. Or whatever it is you are doing.” She snapped.
“Arrahahah. Shit, I gotta spear imma gut, when didda hahpen? Go away girl, I ain’ got nuttin ya need.” The dragon slid back into the canvas, and she found herself shaking her head.
In another room, she saw a different beast. It had wings, two legs, no arms, and a very long tail. This one was on a background of blue, and while it looked neat, it did not resonate either.
“What are you?” She asked aloud.
“A Wyvern.” The creature on the banner turned its head to speak to her. “We are creatures of the water, but once we shared the skies alongside the dragons. That age has passed.”
“Dragons do not let you fly?” She asked, feeling her face scrunch up in disbelief.
“In time you will see, our kind is not at war, but neither are we at peace.” The Wyvern told her and then receded into the banner as if it had never been.
The next one showed a winged beast with scales and fur. It looked more like a wolf. It had sturdy legs and smaller wings, so she doubted it was a flying creature. This one was on a field of brown with black trim, an upon its back she saw what could be a person.
“What are you?” She asked, wondering if it too would speak.
“A Drake.” The beast spoke in a deep grandfatherly voice. Its head turned, and it too came out of the banner, and she could feel the warmth come from its presence. “We are creatures of the land and were once a noble race who fought alongside two-legs. Invited them into our pack and shared a bond of blood. Now we are hunted, and we live in the forests and inhospitable lands so the dragons and their riders cannot easily find us.”
“Why do they hunt you?”
“The two-legs take our scales and our flesh and adorn themselves with it like savages. They use us to train their dragons to ride and hunt. We still count the elves among friends.” The head faded back into the tapestry.
She was not sure she wanted to ask more questions, but if this was a test, then she could not stop now. Alongside the drake was another giant beast, but she could not fathom what it was. The creature had a reddish-orange hue on a background color of stone or slate, the trim was golden, and it came to a triangular point. She hesitated, but she asked anyway.
“What are you?”
The creature came alive, and it turned to look at her, its coloring shifting from orange to black. It even gave off heat, which was hot enough to cause her to sweat.
“I am a salamander, a creature of fire and stone.”
“Nothing else?”
“Silly elf child. I am the greatest of all Drache, but I never come above ground. I enjoy luxuriating in my rivers of lava, and occasionally a dwarf will happen along and break some stone build up away. They rejuvenate me, and as a reward, I help keep their forges hot and allow my young to assist them. No one dares bother me, not even the silly dragons.”
“Can you help me understand this test?”
“Oh, you are on your Trial! How exciting, it has been centuries since I spoke at one of these. This part is easy because it is not so much about what you know, but about what you learn. Do not rush it. You will know what to do.” The salamander was chuckling, and she felt comfortable around this gentle beast.
“So if I chose you, what would happen?” Boh asked.
“You
would gain some of my knowledge. A fragment, but I cannot tell you. My time is up. Choose well girl; if you wish to be a Dragonrider, you will need all the help you can get.” The salamander receded into its home, but he had left her with more questions than answers. There were many more banners, and she learned a great deal.
Losing herself in talking with these strange and wondrous creatures, she had no idea how much time had lapsed. Dragons, drakes, wyverns, and salamanders were not the only creatures here, but there was a lot of each. One banner had a bear with a bee stinging its nose, and another with a large bird with an arrow through its heart.
She stood in front of a banner with an opalescent background which caused the colors to shift in the torchlight. The trim was like the fabric and depending on where she stood, it also changed. She felt silly walking back and forth a few times to watch the shifting colors, but the depth of color enthralled her.
In the center of the banner was a massive white scale with a rune etched into it. The rune was recessed and had the color of mercury. It was almost alive with the way it always shifted, but more impressive was the way it rippled with color when it hit the light just right.
The scale spun from the banner, and it was not as white as she thought. It was closer to white metal, maybe a zinc-based alloy, which only made the mercury lined rune stand out more.
“What are you?” She asked her catch-all question.
“I have no answers for you.” Her father’s voice nearly broke her mind. Its warm masculine sound carried notes of sadness, and it was just like she remembered days before he died.
“Ah—”
A strangled sound escaped before her throat closed with emotion. She knew it was not real, and that it was all a test. It did not stop the raw emotion that overwhelmed her, but surprisingly it was not grief that rose to the top, it was anger.
Breathing heavy, she controlled it. Just like she was taught in pain management, she compartmentalized and dealt with the emotions she could and locked the rest away. It was the same place she stored all the bad shit in her life, and the vault grew daily. Her jaw unclenched, and the muscles in her face loosened as they lost emotion.
Nothing she could do would stop the tears rolling down her face, but she refused to back down. Her father could never be a weapon, not without sparking a rage that always burned deep inside of her. Whoever built this Trial was seeking to break her, but they had no idea what they were awakening.
“Why?” She said coldly. Everything her father ever did was to protect her, and she wanted an answer.
“Because good people die, so that we may understand loss. Without pain and loss, we can never understand perseverance and triumph. Something your father told you once, and something you needed to remember.” The voice changed, and while the kindness was still there, the sound deepened and lost some of its sad tones. The scale spun again as it returned to the banner.
Her father did tell her that, but it was through one of his stories of dragons. The dragon in the story was a runt called Loch, who boasted loudly and often. The dragon became the target of ridicule in his town, and it drove him to try harder, to be better. The dragon failed more often than not but had more heart than any ten dragons combined. It was the darkest story her father had ever told because a plague struck Loch’s home while he was away.
They were all dying, and one by one Loch dragged the dragons to a spring with restorative properties. Only one dragon died… himself. Loch gave everything to do the impossible and became a dragon of legend. It was his sacrifice that allowed the dragons to understand pain, loss, triumph, and hope. Loch shamed them because had they been stronger they might have saved their hero.
The shape of the runed scale was that of a dragon. She saw enough images of all the scaled beasts to notice the differences. She touched the banner, and the runed scale came free in her hand.
You have found a Remnant of your lost ability.
The next test awaits.
Boh
Chapter 10
Silver Spoon
My quality of life grant made it so I never owed a single credit for my pod or berth. Funny how that made others viewed me as ‘born with a silver spoon in my mouth.’
-from Boh, Audio Roll 0197
Just as the Veragon said, a pillar did appear. It gave off a cold light that emanated from the runes etched across its surface. She only hesitated for the briefest of seconds before touching it.
Quest Updated: The Champion Trials
- Objective 1: [Complete] A massive beast guards a treasure trove of Remnants, confront this beast and acquire yours. Good luck!
The wave of nausea that came over her, and it felt like she was a child again, spinning in circles over and over again. It scrambled her head to the point she was sure she was going to puke and then she stumbled out from the pier’s shadow and dropped to her hands and knees on the beach.
It was right where she first saw Hurk, and she stumbled into the light almost precisely where he had been standing. Her head was bowed as she tried to keep her insides inside.
“Was wondering how long it’d take ya to show up here,” Red said from the shadows. There were way too many nooks and crannies in that seawall that she had failed to notice previously.
“Sec.” A dry heave turned into a full release. Once she started, she could not stop for a full thirty seconds. “Shit… that sucks.”
“Dying is no fun, but it looks like you got off easy. Some people have died on their respawn. It can be that bad. A little puke is nothing.”
She had to bite her tongue because she almost told him it was not a death. It might be better if he did not know, and she hid the scale in her pants pocket.
“What about that asshat from earlier?”
“I was actually waiting for him, not you. Figured I’d try to buy you some time and with him dead it's easier to get some payback on that son of a bitch when he respawns. He has not appeared yet, so that's a good thing, for you. So far no one is talking, but if his guild finds out it was you…”
“So you are waiting in the shadows to kill him?” She was about to admonish him, but then remembered the guy did cut off Red’s hand. “Not judging, but why did he cut off your hand?”
“He told me thieves had their hands removed in the old days. Only I was just trying to take my Remnant back.”
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the silver spoon. “Is this it?”
“You… he dropped it?” Red’s body jerked as if struck, and his face rippled with emotion much to complex for her to decipher.
“Take it. I do not need it.” She held the spoon out to him.
“I—thanks. I can finally get the hell off this island.” Red grabbed the spoon and started running for the stairs.
Event Bonus: Act of DecencyEscaping the Crypt
- Faith +1, Faith is now [Still Assessing].
“What about the guild leader guy?”
“Don’t care. I just needed my Remnant back so that I can get the hell off this island full of spineless— Argh.” He clamped down on his anger. “Present company excluded. The Crypt is under constant surveillance. The Mayor uses the Rough Riders to steal the Remnants from Champions. I have no idea why but do not trust anyone on this damn island. I hesitated to tell you earlier because I did not want a target on my back, but I’m free, so I’m telling you now.”
“Thank you. So— just assume everyone gossips.”
“Ah—” Red started to say something and bust out laughing instead. “You are a wily one. Now get out of here before someone spots you. There is a back door to the inn, just use that, and you won’t have to cross that main room. Good luck, and maybe I’ll see you on the other side.” Red took off running again, and she followed him up the stairs. By the time she reached the street, she could see him entering the Mayor’s compound.
No one paid her any mind as she went down the alley along the inn and found the back door. It did not even make a sound as she swung it open, which meant someone was oilin
g it regularly. The front door made plenty of noise, so someone did not want to be heard coming or going.
Her room was around the bend in the hall, and no one spotted her as she entered. Inside her room, the bar for her door was now a piece of heavy metal, which thumped into place as she locked up. She was once more in Lucas’ debt.
It was not that late. She pulled up her Skill Book and looked up Sparkles. Her fingers felt clumsy trying to twist them in the patterns described, but the first gesture was correct. Succeeding in the first gesture, she could feel magic entering her at a slow trickle. It felt like hot coffee warming her insides.
Another hour after that she knew she figured out the second gesture when she saw the spell forming in her mind. It was not a visualization of the spell, it literally was present inside her mind and lit up with energy.
Once the spell formed she extended her fingers out with her palm forward and felt the warmth in her filling the shape in her mind on some instinctive level, she pushed it out of her body and felt the spell fall apart as her arm kicked back and she fell back onto her bed.
Hours later she managed to cast the spell, and Sparkles flew from her palm and splashed against the wall. It filled her with a sense of awe feeling the power fill her and release. It did not matter that the spell was silly sparkling lights because something inside of her came alive as she cast the spell over and over again.
You have learned Sparkles.
Sparkles
- Affinity: None
- Range: 30 feet
- Duration: 10 seconds
- Feedback: 1% per cast. This spell can be channeled, as long as the target of the spell is within 30 feet. Channeling this spell does not affect Feedback because its footprint is so small that ambient energy can power it.
- Effect 1: Creates sparkling lights on the target.
- Historian: This spell is taught to all children to learn magic and has no practical use.
