Draconic Testament

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Draconic Testament Page 48

by Zac Atie


  She pulled herself together, and travelled back to the Vigil, in a foul mood with the headache that had been inflicted by the Urchin. She entered the Vigil, only to be harassed the second she set foot inside the Vigil, making her sigh and grit her teeth. “Mother Tundra!” An Initiate shouted as he ran up to her. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

  “You must think highly of yourself, to presume to pry such answers from me.” She hissed at him.

  “O...Oh. Apologies, Mother, but Matriarch Tyria has come here to see you. It seems she’s in a hurry, and she came as fast as she could.”

  “What does she want?” Tundra hissed. Tundra didn’t like the Covenant at all. Even though she was resentful of the people in charge of the Inquisition at times, she loved the Inquisition. It stood for everything she believed in, that Forbidden Sorcerers caused wars and suffering, and that they needed to be snuffed out in order to save the lives on innocents. However, while she loved the Inquisition, she hated the Covenant, who hid their members and did not allow the inquisitors close to do their Duty. The Inquisition also used to have a place in each of the Councils of the Kingdoms of Cazria, but when their numbers dwindled over time, and the Covenant overtook them after the events of the Metholian Civil War, they were dropped out of the councils. Much controversy surrounded them and the bandits that emerged among the Domini population after the war, as they forced their way into homes, sometimes even brutalising innocent Domini to the point of them running to the Covenant for protection, so they were kicked out. Tundra didn’t think it was the Inquisition’s fault, even though she wasn’t around for that time. “Why should I care what she has to say?” Tundra asked.

  “Mother, please.” The Initiate says. “She wants to speak with you. She’s been in your room pacing around for hours.”

  “Hours...” Tundra pondered. She was usually out cold for a long time like that. She usually slept longer too, trapped in nightmares, which was common when she slept. She avoided them by not sleeping, but that was the trick of the curse. To succumb to fear, or exhaustion. Either one would drive you to insanity, and both were equally unbearable. “Alright. Escort me to her, will you?” She asked him. He led her up the stairs of the Vigil, and across the side bridges of the courtyard to her chambers at the end. In the courtyard were the grunts and shouts of her sons and daughters in the order, clashing wooden swords against one another. Most Inquisitors were Cazrians, and the ones that weren’t usually used guns for their work, so the courtyard was void of any participating non-Cazrians. Except one, which she was surprised to see. Polliver was fighting with shock rods with another Cazrian, an initiate that had joined a few days ago, training their sword practice. If they got in a hit, they would be delivered a nasty shock, though it wouldn’t harm the skin. She stopped walking, and observed as Polliver usually took many of his hits with dignity, and hardly showed any pain as he beat one Initiate after another. He made his way through most of the imitates one after the other, to Tundra’s shock, until one bested him when the fatigue from the shock rods proved too much for him. “The boy is brave to the point of stupidity...” Tundra thought. “Unbelievable. It took me months to achieve a feat like that... And he’s a Halfling.” She began walking again and entered her chambers.

  She entered to find old Matriarch Tyria, member of the Council of Metholi. She was wearing her Matriarch robes, fancy robes with the design of a dragon going down one side and blowing fire around up the other. However, something about her appearance was off. “Elite Inquisitor Tundra.” Tyria said. “Pleasure to see you. You look... well.”

  “I know how I look.” Tundra said, defensively, walking up to the mirror. She had bags under her eyes, and she looked as if she had just got up from a hangover. “I look dreadful.”

  “What exactly have you been doing of late?” Tyria asked, suspicious.

  “Having naps in alleyways.” Tundra said. Even though she had passed out from fear, she had gained some rest at least. Tyria raised an eyebrow. “You’re not joking, are you?” Tyria asked.

  “Half joking.” She said. “Only did it once.”

  “I see. The nightmares?” Tyria asked. “If there’s one thing I regret, it’s not having the power t-“

  “Never mind that.” Tundra said, stretching. “What are you doing here? I heard you’ve been pacing round my room for hours, anticipated with my arrival. I know I'm awesome, but it’s odd to have such a busy woman like yourself on my case. So what is it?”

  “It’s... Secret. I like you, Tundra, even if you don't like me and my Order. I don't know who I can trust with this information... We council members have been on edge over this since Draynar’s betrayal.”

  “You needed someone you could trust, and your first thought was me?” Tundra asked. “What possibly gave you that idea?”

  “Your ideals.” Tyria said. “If I gave this information to anyone else, they’d report it to the Circle.”

  “Hold on.” Tundra said. “You’re asking me to betray my sons and daughters for you? And the Covenant?”

  “No.” Tyria said. “I'm asking you to go behind their backs on a mission, for the Metholi Council, and for the good of the kingdom.”

  “I'm not a Metholian.” Tundra said.

  “No.” Tyria said, putting her hand on Tundra’s shoulder. “But you are a child of the Crusade and the dragons. You’ve served Cazria like no other Domini has. I need you on this.” Normally, Tundra would shrug away from her violently, but something about her eyes and voice soothed her into allowing it. Perhaps it was off of what she had experienced with the curse earlier. Then, she noticed what was odd about her. Her pendant. The bright ruby gem hanging from her neck. Tundra looked over at her own Jewellery box. It was slight ajar, and she could see the exact same gem. The one Tyria was wearing was a fake. Tundra had came to Tyria, a decade or so before, to ask for help from arguably the world’s greatest healer with her curse problem. When it proved to be too complex for Tyria to handle, she gave Tundra a unique gift as both as an apology, or a good luck charm. It was invaluable to Tyria, and Tundra took it so that Tyria wouldn’t feel the guilt of the fate Tundra was doomed to. There are no others like it... but this gem is the exact same as the gem in the jewellery. An exact duplicate. A feeling of dread and mistrust fills Tundra’s guts. “This needs to be done by someone able and with a strong will.”

  “Is it an assassination?” Tundra asked. Tyria took her hand away, smiling warmly.

  “It may be.” Tyria said. “But it cannot be done by Tundra the Inquisitor. It has to be done discreetly.”

  “And who exactly am I to kill?” Tundra asked.

  “Metholi has a new Overlord. Finally.” Tyria said. Tundra was taken aback.

  “Congratulations... But surely this Overlord is not the target?” Tundra asked.

  “No.” Tyria said. “He’s disappeared. But... I have faith he’ll come back.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Tundra asked.

  “I’ve seen many in my time, as I'm sure you’re aware. Not many live to my age. I’ve seen strong people, and special people. Ultimali, Adda’Gorath, Draynar, Abaddon, Sancterus. All Elrics are special, and this one... He’s also special to a degree. I highly doubt he’s going to die anytime soon... At least I hope he’s able to live as long as Cazrians.” Tyria said, sadly.

  “He’s not Cazrian?” Tundra asked.

  “He’s the son of Katrina, and Sancterus. He’s half Cazrian, half human.” Tyria said. Tundra was taken aback. “The people won’t like that.” Tundra said, backing up against the wall.

  “You may be surprised. If the Monolith chose him, why wouldn’t the people?” Tyria asked. “Besides, you forget Katrina was an Archmage. She had a lot of magic flowing in her blood, Sancterus’ magic. He still has an incredible amount of potential within him.”

  “He looks human, though, right?” Tundra asked.

  “Does it matter?” Tyria asked. “Not having an Overlord for 16 years is a huge deal. One is usuall
y chosen not so long after the previous Overlord’s death. By the Void, sometimes they are chosen before anyone is aware of the previous Overlord’s death.”

  “I have my doubts. But, I suppose we’ll see in time. Perhaps I’ve spent too much time away from people who didn’t fear my every word.” Tundra said, grudgingly.

  “Come now, there’s no need for that. People of the Aquatic Isles and Metholi are suspicious of all Domini, but Cazrians are bound by honour not to judge you without knowing you. Besides, you’re Tundra the Elite Inquisitor. There are many that love you, and use you as an example as a honourable Domini.” Tyria said.

  “Alright, alright.” Tundra complained, not taking compliments well. “Why exactly has he disappeared? Where did he go?”

  “Earth. The guards by the door confirmed that he went down there. I suspect his Paladin had a hand in it, but It hardly matters.” Tyria explained, then a guilty look came across her face. “As for why he disappeared... that’s what I need you for.”

  “Go on.” Tundra said, listening intently.

  “He’s going after a Magi who had accompanied him for some time, if I recall. However, this woman is a Warlock, and a Kinslayer.” Tyria said. Tundra raised her eyebrows. “I need her killed.”

  “Why?” Tundra asked. “It’s sort of a waste to have the Overlord personally find his love, then kill her. Why do I have to kill her?”

  “All Kinslayers must die.” Tyria said. Tundra frowned. Now she knew something was wrong. Usually, Tyria was humble. “The woman is not only a Kinslayer, but a Warlock, and she has been accompanying our Overlord. She may corrupt him, he may fall to her whim. No doubt he’ll want her to be his concubine, or worse, his queen! She has to die, and then you must monitor Zaxxarius.”

  “I can’t just kill her out of nowhere.” Tundra said. “As much as I dislike Warlocks, assassinating an Overlord’s lover doesn’t seem all that healthy.”

  “I thought I could rely on you.” Tyria said.

  “I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm just not in the mood for such Drama.” She complained.

  “But...” Tyria began.

  “No.” Tundra interrupted. “You shouldn’t just call assassinations on people that you don't even know. If she’s a Kinslayer, and if she’s evil, she won’t last a second with Abaddon as the boy’s advisor. That should be enough for you.” Tyria scowled.

  “I thought you’d be pleased with such a task.” Tyria said to her. “Haven’t you always lusted for actions outside of this... Vigil work?”

  “Lusted, huh? I can see where it’s headed.” Tundra said. “I have no reason to trust you. Besides, monitor the Overlord? What if he’s also succumbed to the Warlock’s whim?”

  “I would expose him.” Tyria said. “He’s young, very young, and he’d have the chance to join the Covenant.” Tundra froze. Her tentacles vibrated violently for a split second.

  “I... I’ll need some time to...” Tundra began, then she changed her mind. “No. No, I won’t do it. Thank you, but I rather enjoy Vigil duty. I’ll stay here.” She said, turning and smiling at Tyria, who was taken aback. “That was... sudden. Have I said something to displease you?” Tyria asked.

  “No, not at all.” Tundra laughed. “I am just content with the way things are going right now. I enjoy these particular recruits, and I believe without me, the Aquatic isles may suffer a tremendous amount. Thank you for your offer, but no. That’s my final answer.” Tyria scowled.

  “Disappointing.” She hissed, then turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Tundra blurted. Tyria turned, expectantly. “Guards!” Tundra yelled, taking Tyria aback again. Guards entered the room, and look at Tundra. “Yes, Mother Tundra?” They asked.

  “Please take Lady Tyria out of the Vigil, and put her on a transport to the nearest dock.” Tundra said, smiling. The guards almost frowned at the smile. “You don't need to have me supervised.” Tyria said, coldly. “Now now. A lady of your stature should be escorted. You know how crazy people can get these days.” Tundra chuckled, in a condescending tone, as the guards usher Tyria out of the room, and close the door behind them. She leaned against the wall next to the window, and watched as she walked away. “The pendant...” She pondered. She had serious doubts about Tyria. She rummaged through her reports, back to an earlier date, to confirm that the Pendant had been one of a kind, and it had. She picked up the pendant out of the jewellery box and examined it. She had often played with the pendant and prayer hard to the dragons whenever she would brave going to sleep at night. So why had it come up again? Tundra sank in her chair, waving it off with a forced chuckle. “Im thinking too much about this.” Tundra said. “My mind is full of paranoia due to that damned curse. I’ve turned down a perfect job in the name of fear. Pathetic.”

  An hour passed, and Tundra realised that the whole time she had been walking around her room, trying to take her mind off of Tyria and her job. She was convinced something did not add up, but she was weary of trying to figure it out. A knock came at her door, snapping her out of her trance. “Who is it?” She asked. “It’s me, uhh... Miss.” Polliver said from the other end.

  “Come in.” She said, putting away the reports she had taken out from before. Polliver waddled in, coated with sweat, and shut the door. She could smell the sweat from him, though it didn’t smell as bad as Domini or Cazrian sweat, it was thick and the smell would cling to the air. “You’ve been training hard, I see.” Tundra said, observing him.

  “Y-Yes miss.” Polliver said. “My brothers in the order said I had to prove my worth, being weaker and all.”

  “You look no worse for wear.” Tundra said. “Sit down, will you?” Polliver obeyed and sat on a nearby couch. Tundra took out two glasses and poured water in them, and handed one to Polliver, who thanked her. “Did you do what I asked?” Tundra asked.

  “Yes, miss.” He said, nodding. He pointed over at the lamp, and Tundra spotted the papers underneath it. Tundra took them, thinking how odd it was to place papers there, and reviewed his work silently. “No.” She sighed.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Polliver asked, apologetically.

  “No, young one.” Tundra sighed. “Im looking for someone. They aren't here.”

  “Who are you looking for?” Polliver asked.

  “A lady has her secrets.” She said, putting the papers away.

  “You seem, uhh... Bothered, miss.” Polliver said.

  “You’re my apprentice.” Tundra said. “That means I share classified secrets with you and take you on all my missions. You are confidential, and fully trustworthy. I trust you know that, aye?”

  “Yes, miss.” Polliver said. She wondered what to tell Polliver. She considered telling him everything, about both her suspicions, and the dreaded curse, since she liked Polliver a little, and thought that he was different from all the other apprentices in a unexpected way that she couldn’t tell was good or bad. However, she decided to keep the news about her curse to herself. She told him about Tyria’s offer, and about how she didn’t seem right. “Is it possible that she got another pendant?” Polliver asked.

  “She wouldn’t replace such a priceless gem like it was nothing to her. She’s not a vain person.” Tundra said. “But perhaps. Do I seem paranoid to you?”

  “No.” Polliver said. “She came to you asking you to betray your organisation. I would be scared, too.”

  “I’m not scared.” Tundra huffed. “She just didn’t seem normal.”

  “Perhaps she was a shape shifter?” Polliver suggested, scratching his nose casually.

  “What?” Tundra asked, squinting.

  “It’s possible... right? My mum used to tell me stories... about how shape shifters would sneak into rich children’s bedrooms, steal them, and ransom them...” Polliver said.

  “You’re talking about the Blackwatch Cartel.” Tundra said, waiting for him to continue.

  “Y-yes. Shape shifters are, uh... rare. And illegal. But the Cartel had good use for them, and set them to work. They would be und
erground suppliers for wars, and all illegal businesses are usually governed by them.” Polliver explained. “They’d also make sure that some noble houses wouldn’t send their men to fight in wars by stealing loved ones of the houses, or bribing them.”

  “Right.” Tundra said. “But, I doubt it’s the Cartel. What reason would they have to harass me?”

  “Whoever it is, they tried to make you take the fall... didn’t they?” Polliver asked.

  “Im sure of it.” Tundra agreed, looking at the reports again. She had called the Metholian office to confirm that Tyria was there, but they had said that she had taken a trip to Northern Metholi. Tundra was north of there, on the Aquatic isles, so it could have been a cover, but they would likely realise that Tyria was headed elsewhere. Then, something came to her. Tyria has said that the Overlord could join the Covenant if he was found guilty of being a Warlock. “Could it be that the Covenant is trying to gain power by putting the Overlord of Metholi in their Covenant for rehabilitation?” Tundra asked.

  “Maybe.” Polliver said. “But, uhh... They are already powerful enough.”

  “It could be for another underlying reason.” Tundra said. “That Overseer of theirs rubs me the wrong way.”

  “Miss... With all due respect...” Polliver stuttered, reluctantly.

  “What is it?” Tundra asked. “Come on, speak up. You can talk to me.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to come to a conclusion.” Polliver said. “It could have been Tyria, it may not have. It could have been genuine, or it could not have. If it wasn’t, then we don’t know the reason, and we’re likely not going to come to one.”

 

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