“Took you long enough,” she complained. She wore simple riding clothes compared to the nice clothing she had worn last night.
“I thought you weren’t interested in coming along,” Bokaj said. I looked at him and could see he was wary. “You had things to do.”
“I did,” she replied simply. “Now I don’t, and it looks like you still need a trainer, as obviously, none of you are Bards.”
That was oddly convenient, Bokaj growled to the rest of us. Zeke, you see anyone around hiding? I don’t see anyone who could be a threat.
I scanned the area around here, the tree, everywhere as openly as I could so she would see me being weary. Nothing and no one.
“Rate of pay changes for the convenience,” Bokaj warned, “and you pull your weight in a fight.”
“Fine,” she said. She motioned behind her, and a spectral horse appeared. She mounted up and rode towards us gracefully.
That reminded me, “Zhavron, do you have a mount?”
Zhavron smiled, put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply and loudly. After a moment, a loud crash sounded from behind us at the gate, and a large animal sped our way.
As it came closer, the animal became a large wolf, roughly the size of Muu’s mount. It skidded to a halt next to its master and began to pant at him in joy.
“Meet Norla.” He reached out and scratched behind the massive wolf’s left ear, and it fell to its ass and began to thump the ground with a leg. He hopped on to the creature’s back easily. “Good girl.”
The rest of us summoned our own mounts, Zhavron made observations about each and even told Muu he was a little jealous of his mount. “Wouldn’t trade Norla for him, though. She’s smart as a whip, this one.”
“How did you come along such a spectacular horse?” I heard Pharazulla speak from behind me.
“Thor?” He whinnied upon hearing his name. “He’s been with me for quite some time. I think he has something to do with my being favored by the lightning element and my companion.”
“You have many companions,” she said dryly.
“Not them, my familiar.” I looked over to Muu. “Kayda’s coming!”
“WHERE?!” He ducked in his saddle. His mount growled threateningly, and Muu breathed easier. “It’s okay, Tickle Tail. Don’t worry.”
I summoned Kayda from my necklace, and she took flight almost immediately.
“Her?!” Pharazulla spoke in wonder. “She is why?”
“I can’t tell for sure, but it seems like the best reason,” I answered honestly.
We traveled at a good pace for most of the day. Zhavron learned more about Muu, his fighting style, and instincts in the fights that he had so far.
Pharazulla made sure to do the same with Bokaj, though the conversation was bent more toward getting to know what he had used his high charisma for, how often he did so, and the types of spells he could perform.
That evening when we stopped for dinner and bed, we watched as Muu underwent drills orchestrated by Zhavron. The old Orc brought out a longsword and stood before him. What took place was a pretty one-sided exchange of blows. Zhavron didn’t hold back, and though he was strong for a level 8, Muu stood no chance against the experienced Fighter.
“You have decent instincts, but you are over eager,” Zhavron scolded. “You must be either more patient or far more aggressive. That way your opponent will not be able to mount a proper defense.”
They worked for an hour or more; the rest of us were content to watch.
The first watch that night was me, then Yohsuke, then Muu while Bokaj trained with Pharazulla.
Over the next few days, the sun smiled down on us, and the reasonable temperatures left us all comfortable enough. We grew more accustomed to having the two natives with us throughout that time. Pharazulla’s approach to training was much more theory based, but by the end of the fifth day—and as the snow clouds began to show on the horizon—things began to truly take effect.
“Hey!” Bokaj said after we had been riding most of the day and had just stopped. “I got the first Bard spell!”
“Was it Charm?” Pharazulla asked politely as she stretched lazily. Bokaj nodded. “Good. This means you are ready to learn other things. Hurry and finish the strange instrument you have been working on while on your watches.”
The rest of us looked at him curiously when he pulled out a long, wooden object that resembled a guitar. The neck was finished, and the body was beginning to take shape.
“You play guitar, bro?” Yohsuke asked. “Oh yeah! You did mention being in a band.”
“Yup!” Bokaj pulled out his woodworking equipment and set to work.
As time continued to pass, both students quickly began to pick up their skills. By the next night, Muu could—somewhat—hold his own against the wily veteran, Zhavron.
After a particularly rough bout of fighting, Zhavron clapped his student on the back and asked, “Now, what kind of fighting style did you say you wanted again? ‘Dragown?’”
“Dragoon,” Muu corrected with a smile. “I want to be able to fight up close, sure, but I want gravity to help me hurt things that are fucking with us, ya know?”
“No,” Zhavron replied gruffly, “but far be it from me to try and convince you otherwise. Now, look at the trees you have available to you and see what you can get.”
“Hmmmm.” Muu considered his status screen for a moment. “Thrust, Armor Pierce, Launch, and Bleed.”
“Well, you could invest in all of them if you wanted. You have the points.” Zhavron thought a moment. “You have some good weapons and armor enchantments.”
At enchantments, I perked up. “He’s about to have some better shit. Here.” I reached into my inventory and gave him the two rings and the bracelet.
“Jesus CHRIST, dude!” he shouted in wonder. “These are fucking insane!”
“Thank you. Sorry, I forgot to give them to you sooner. I figured if I did so in the city, it could draw attention to us, and then I didn’t want you to rely on them too much in training,” I replied with a smile on my face. It felt so much better to be back in my Fox-man form. My tails swished behind me in pleasure.
“No, thank you,” Muu stressed as he pointed my way.
Zhavron nodded. “I can see that being meant for the best, but if we had been attacked, I would have preferred he had them to not having them. What was the old saying? ‘I would rather have and not need, than not have and need’? You see what I mean?”
I took the rebuff stoically and nodded. I was going to have to dig my head out of my ass sometime.
After a moment of thought, Muu looked at Zhavron and asked, “Can I talk to you and Zeke for a moment?”
Zhavron looked at him steadily and then to me. When I shrugged, the older Orc stood and walked a couple dozen yards away from the camp with Muu and me in tow.
“What’s up, bud?” I tried to mask my concern with a cheerful demeanor, but I couldn’t be sure it was believable.
“Well, I know from experience that it’s rude to ask a warrior or a soldier if they’ve ever killed anyone.” He looked at me. “I learned that from you. So I won’t ask, but…” he looked to Zhavron, and I could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes, “but I have. It was my first, then second. Then so many more and they were all helpless. They couldn’t do anything, man! And I murdered them!”
“Muu, if you had let them have even the slightest chance, they would have murdered you.” I reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “You did what was needed. What was necessary for us to survive. For you to survive.”
“Sit down, boy,” Zhavron ordered, then looked at me. “Best explain it so I can understand.”
“We found a cave on our way to Lindyburg that was enchanted to make people want to come in,” I recounted. “When we went in, we found some sleeping, low-level hobgoblins. We—the others and I—would hit them while they were asleep, and he would deliver the final blow.”
“Mighty efficient,” he observed with r
aised brows.
“Then we were attacked by a legion of them,” I continued. “They were coming from a single tunnel, and we were able to funnel them and use magic to keep them at bay. It was a slaughter. While we were distracted, an Incubus six levels higher than us took Muu hostage. He was going to try and make us all his slaves-slash-food.”
Zhavron looked to Muu, who was looking away, tears starting to fall as the story continued.
I couldn’t blame him for what he was thinking or feeling, but it was odd to see my friend crying like this. So I kept explaining.
“The creature wasn’t expecting Muu, significantly fewer in levels, to actually fight back, and he caught the demon by surprise. After that, we ganged up on him until he was close to dead, interrogated him, then held him down while Muu stabbed him to death.”
“See?!” Muu threw his arms up and leaped to his feet. “Each time, the enemy was damned near defenseless! I had to have someone hold them down to be able to do shit!”
Zhavron looked at Muu with patience in his gaze and said, “Sit.”
“And now, when I close my eyes at night, I can hear that demon pleading—begging—for me to stop.” Muu began to pace in a tight back and forth route. “I can see him.”
“SIT!” Zhavron barked the order at Muu, and even I jumped.
The command brought him out of it, and he sat down quickly.
“What you did—what you had to do—was out of necessity,” Zhavron began, and as Muu opened his mouth to interrupt, the veteran Fighter growled at him, “Stow it. You will listen now.”
Muu’s jaw clacked shut.
“Listen close.” Zhavron closed his eyes as if to see what he was saying. “When I was a young Orc, I was proud. Strong. I had trained my body from the time I could walk to be a proud warrior like my father. I would walk with him in the plains, searching for anything to prove myself to him. I started fights—won some and lost some—that I would never really remember why I started them.”
Zhavron raised his hands in the air. “When it was time for me to choose my path in the tribe, I chose to become a Fighter. It’s what I had known all my life, what I was most proud of. Until this point, I had not taken a life for anything other than sustenance or protection and never sentient.”
Muu and I listened, enraptured. I had always loved listening to stories from my elders.
“Shortly after my training, I was level 3 or so at the time, we were attacked by a band of Gulfcots. Vicious creatures. Built like Trolls but much smarter and cunning. There was a score of them, and they set on us when we had just made camp. Took us all hostage, made us fight each other for sport.”
A dark, haunted look crept over his face. He began to breathe slightly heavier, and his still closed eyes clenched shut. His hands had fallen into his lap and clenched tightly.
“Days turned into weeks, and by the end of it all,” Zhavron’s voice broke, and his lips pulled away from his teeth in pain, “my father had saved me from having to fight, by defeating the others before they started making us fight to the death. The first fight was the favorite—my father—against the weakling. They figured it would be a slaughter. Entertaining enough to drink to at least, for the first time—they had finally grown complacent as father said they would. We put on a good show—distracting enough to allow the others in our patrol to gather their wits and escape their bonds, but as it lasted longer, they grew suspicious.”
Zhavron opened his eyes and waited until Muu looked him in the eye to continue, “My father threw himself on my sword so that the Gulfcots would be too distracted claiming their winnings from each other to see the freed prisoners gathering weapons. As the other Orcs began cutting into them, a scouting party from our tribe and a neighboring Elven tribe came upon us. Together, they destroyed those heartless bastards.”
And there, as we watched, this grizzled, scarred Orc put his head in his hands, and his shoulders shook. He looked up, tears pouring down his cheeks, and he smiled.
“I stayed there, frozen, holding my dying father in my arms as he whispered the words, ‘necessary sacrifice,’ over and over until his eyes went cold.”
Fuck, man. I couldn’t imagine that shit. Not even in the slightest. I had some shit in my past, for sure—but that?! Jesus.
“Now, I will never say that the pain you feel right now is less.” Zhavron motioned toward Muu. “I’m certain that Zeke will be able to tell you about his own first time. The first is always the hardest, and you will always carry that pain with you. However, what your friends did for you—and what you will inevitably do for them—will sometimes require that necessary sacrifice.”
Zhavron stood, walked over to Muu, knelt in front of him, and said softly, “Do not become numb to this pain, but use it to forge yourself into the weapon you need to be to protect what you hold dearest.”
I nodded, a tear coming to my own eyes. I could do some amazing shit. Fuck, I had decapitated a lizardman in a single stroke during a fight to the death, but that was some deep, thoughtful advice.
Muu nodded, sniffled, and looked his trainer in the eye and said simply, “Thank you.”
Zhavron patted him, and that was all we said for the rest of the night. I think, if I was being honest, that was all that needed saying.
As I fell asleep that night, I felt the pulse of heat in my palm, and the burn of the fire tattoo entered my dream. I was once more in the realm of flame with the Primordial Flame Elemental looking down upon me.
Little flame, you have done well to come this far and so swiftly. I will help you in finding the one you seek. He has found his shape now, and it would have been much harder to seek on your own. The crackling and popping in my mind registering as words.
I felt a searing in my palm and grunted to try and keep from screaming.
This will help you feel for the direction you need to travel, it explained.
“Thank you.” I rubbed my palm for a moment before I asked, “You said that others were seeking it?”
Yes, they seek dominion over the elements. With this creature, they will have what they need to begin their work in earnest. Why they have chosen my domain to begin their experiments, I do not know. Our time is at a close, little flame. Hurry.
The realm of flame faded, and the dawning light of the sun on Brindolla began to shine. Once again, I was sweating, and my hand felt like it was going to burn away for nothing. I looked at it, and the fur around it was singed and the skin blistered.
I cast Regrowth and watched the skin begin to settle. The singed fur was still there, but it would grow out.
I watched as the others began to come to in silence. Muu looked surprisingly refreshed, groggy, but like he had less weighing on his soul.
We ate a hearty breakfast that day, courtesy of Bokaj who had spotted a large ox during the night that looked good enough to eat. Luckily, the ingredients would keep because he had frozen them with his ability. Yohsuke, his cooking ever-fucking-phenomenal, had cooked up enough and salted it that we had plenty left over to offer to Zhavron’s mount so she wouldn’t have to hunt for herself.
“Why is that,” Muu asked one morning as she returned with a bloody hare in her jaws, “that she needs to hunt and our mounts don't?”
“Your mounts are summoned from elsewhere, and while they are here, they don’t truly exist unless you have a special class skill that even I do not hold.” Zhavron patted the great wolf lovingly. “Mounted fighting is hard to master and only one class, Cavalier, seems to be able to fight on a summoned mount. Norla exists here because I raised her from the time she was a puppy to be my mount and friend. She must eat.”
After that, I spoke to everyone about my dream and held my palm out toward the north. I felt warmth, like sticking my hand close to a candle, come over my hand. As I moved it away, the temperature cooled.
“I guess we have to go that way.” The others trusted what I had to say and began to pack up. As we readied our mounts, I heard a voice—several voices and the beating of hooves—coming
from the direction we had been traveling away from Lindyburg.
I turned to see what the commotion was about when light reflected off some armor. I saw the red and gold, then heard Pharazulla curse quietly.
I turned toward her. “What the fuck did you do?”
She looked at me, and I felt slightly off. “I’ve done nothing wrong. They are assassins like the one you killed when we met.”
“I see.” I shook my head and put my mind back to what was at hand.
“What are they doing here?” I heard Bokaj ask, as if through a fog.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Pharazulla spat. “They’ve come to kill me. They will kill us all if we don’t stop them.”
She was right. She was so right. I shook my head to get the last drudges of post-meal laziness out of me and took stock.
There were five of them total, and they abhorred magi users, so they couldn’t have any casters with them. I saw one with a bow, and the others looked like they had crossbows. My friends were off their mounts still, and they looked about as ready as they were going to be.
We couldn’t let the element of surprise go to waste. As the assassins came close enough to be in range, I lined up my shot as best I could and cast Fireball. A streak of orange and black shot toward them, and as it hit the lead rider—it detonated.
In the confusion, I felt a hand on my neck running their fingers through my fur and then everything was lost to me.
The chaos that ensued was nothing short of a blur. I didn’t remember anything. Just screams and pain.
As I came to, I realized I was at half health and healing slowly.
“Yo, Zeke.” Yohsuke and Bokaj’s heads swam into my vision above me.
My dazed mind began to swim. “What happened?”
“We were going to ask you the same thing, motherfucker,” Yohsuke growled. “What the hell happened? Why did you attack us?”
I sat up quickly and fell straight back down. “What?!”
“Yeah, man, you fireballed those guards to shit, then cast Lightning Storm on them.” Bokaj warded Yohsuke away from me so he could explain. “After that, Pharazulla came over and patted you on the shoulder… oh fuck.”
Into the Dragon's Den (Axe Druid Book 2) Page 22
