The Dragon Hunter and the Mage

by V. R. Cardoso

  Doric stopped, scared, and stared at the room’s door, holding his breath. Had the guard heard anything? Nothing happened. The door did not open. He decided it was safe and looked at the piece of wall that had been revealed. There was a door back there, no doubt about it.

  Cassia….

  This time, he pushed with both his hands. Sweat broke on his forehead and the veins in his neck looked like they were about to pop. The closet moved across the floor but squeaked so loud that everyone in the inn had surely heard. He looked at the room’s door again and saw the door knob spin.

  Crap!

  Like lightening, he grabbed the closet’s door and spun it wide open, hoping it was large enough to cover the secret passage that was now visible. The Legionnaire entered the room with a confused look on his face.

  “Damn old furniture…” Doric said, still holding the closet door. “Squeals like an Akhami pig.” He bent into the closet and inhaled. “Smells like one, too.”

  The Legionary laughed, then wished him good night and left. Doric sighed with relief, before returning to inspecting the secret door. He peeked through the lock and saw an empty room on the other side. Cautiously, he opened the door and crossed to the other room. It was just like his, except for the entrance door which was placed perpendicularly to his own, meaning it led out to a different corridor.

  Once again, very carefully, he opened it and peeked outside, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was indeed a different corridor, and it was unguarded, but the secret note did not have any further instructions. What was he supposed to do now? He figured it shouldn’t be too hard to get out of the inn from there.

  Tip toeing, he walked to the end of the corridor and down a flight of stairs where he found a dark pantry with bags full of potatoes, beans, and onions. There were muffled voices coming from nearby, which probably belonged to the Legionaries who had brought him there.

  He took a look around, searching for a way out. It was clearly the back of the inn, so there should be some kind of service door around, and he soon discovered that he was right. He found it right after a row of wine barrels, and almost stopped for a cup. If he was really going to see Cassia after all these years, he sure could use one. But he was more afraid to get caught than he was thirsty, so he decided to leave the barrels alone and get the hell out of there.

  Once outside, he started running like a mad man, his heart jumping, and did not slow down until he turned three corners. He stopped to catch his breath. All he had to do now was get to the old part of town. He remembered the Old Temple, but could not understand why Cassia had chosen it. There were so many places in the capital that had a special meaning for them. The Moon Garden, where they had kissed for the first time, The Lost Tunnels, which they always visited on their trips to Augusta… Why the Old Temple?

  Because after fifteen years she obviously doesn’t feel the same away about you, he thought. She probably just wanted to know if he was alright.

  Doric disappeared into the crowd. In Augusta, the streets were never empty.

  The Old Temple was stuck between a series of abandoned houses. Once upon a time it had been the center of the city, now it was home to rats and homeless people. The streets had never been cobbled so Doric hopped between dry portions of road, trying to avoid the mud and the puddles of water and urine.

  The Temple building, the oldest in Augusta, had its walls covered in moss. The entrance was a stairway into the underground, where the Temple nave was located. In fact, the visible part of the building was merely decorative, as it had been built centuries ago during the Great Dragon Scourge, when cities were still built underground. In those days, the size of the Temple would have been mind blowing. Now, though, it looked like a smelly basement. Everyone knew that every Priest or Priestess not aligned with the Supreme Sister could end up presiding over the celebrations in there.

  Doric walked down the stairs. The steps had been polished by time and were damp from Ava knew what. Wrinkling his face in disgust, he placed a hand on the wall, afraid of losing his step. A calico cat jumped away when he stepped near him.

  What a dreadful place….

  The nave had a reddish color thanks to the candles that had been randomly spread about. Doric saw a man nestled in a corner, his ragged clothes exposing a myriad of scars. The man showed Doric his teeth with a mad look on his face and opened one of his shirt’s tears wider, displaying the mark of the Dragon Hunters: a “V”, undulating like two wings, or two blades, it was hard to tell. With his other hand, the mad man pointed with a knife to where the iron had branded him. Underneath the Hunter’s symbol, there were three small triangles. With the tip of the knife, he indicated each one, showing Doric how many Dragons he had slayed. Then, he aimed the knife at Doric and snarled. Doric decided to step the other away.

  It sure did not look like a place where Cassia would go. Could the message be from someone else?

  “You!”

  Doric jumped. He turned towards the voice and saw a man pointing an accusatory finger. He had the beard of a beggar but wore the tunic of a Priest. His milky, blind eyes were looking nowhere.

  Doric looked around, puzzled. “Me?”

  “You will bring the fire!”

  “Ah… alright….” Doric would have gladly run away, but the Priest was now practically leaning on him. “Maybe later, if I have time.”

  “You will bring the Dragons. Thousands of Dragons. They will cover the world in fire.”

  Doric cursed his luck. Was there anyone down there that was not insane?

  He tried to escape the Priest. “Nice to meet you too, Holy Brother. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to….” He looked everywhere for a distraction. “Pray. I’m going to pray a little.”

  “The wound in the sky will return, and the heavens will bleed.”

  “That is… regrettable,” Doric said, walking away from the Priest.

  “Mother Ava will weep for her children once more,” the blind man insisted. “Ashes do not pray, Blood Carrier.”

  “No, I don’t think they do.”

  “Doric?!”

  His head spun so fast it nearly snapped off, but the voice did not belong to Cassia.

  “Lerica?”

  The woman ran to him and wrapped him in a long embrace.

  “I can’t believe you came….”

  And he didn’t know why he had, he almost said.

  They studied each other without letting go. Doric thought she looked the same. How many years had it been? Five? Ten?

  “I don’t remember ever seeing you wearing armor…” Doric said.

  “Times have changed.” Lerica smiled. “But we should talk somewhere else.”

  Doric was confused. Was she taking him to Cassia? What was going on?

  “Priest Frir is Runium sensitive,” Lerica said, indicating the blind man who was now putting out every candle he could find. “But he was never trained. The Academy turned him down for being blind.”

  “So he tried to learn on his own….”

  Lerica lit a torch and cleared away a tapestry hanging behind the altar, revealing a tunnel.

  “Runium is a dangerous substance,” she agreed, then led him through the tunnel.

  The walls were dripping and Doric saw several mice running along the wall, frightened by the flame of the torch.

  “Ironically, it saved his life,” Lerica continued. “If he had been admitted to the Academy, he would probably have died during the Purge.”

  “I suppose being insane is not the worst way to spend your life.”

  Lerica looked at him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “Besides, he’s a great lookout.” She smiled and winked.

  Lerica and Cassia had been friends, and Doric had always liked her. On the other hand, her husband hated Doric’s guts.

  “How is Haldan?”

  Her smile went away.

  “Dead. Hanged last year.”

  Doric felt like an imbecil
e.

  “Lerica… I’m so sorry, I should have known, I….”

  She shrugged.

  “That’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here.”

  They had reached a door and she knocked. First three times, then two, then three again. The door opened and Lerica walked him in.

  “Look who’s here,” she said.

  Inside were two men and a woman, sitting around a table. They were all familiar faces, but Cassia was not one of them.

  “Doric?” Hagon asked. He was Cassia’s cousin, and also hated him with a passion.

  “It’s great to see you, old man.” Eirin was the daughter of a friend of Doric’s father. They had spent their childhood together, and she stood on the tips of her toes to lay a kiss on his cheek.

  Doric was deeply confused. What were they doing there, and more importantly, why had they brought him there?

  “You finally came to join us,” Tarnig said with a smile from ear to ear. He was probably the best friend Doric had had in his youth.

  “It’s the right decision, Doric,” Lerica said with a comforting hand on his back. “Our numbers grow every day. Tarsus’ days are numbered.”

  Rebels. They were Rebels. In every hall of every noble house of the Empire, there were whispers about the growing conspiracy against Tarsus. But why in the name of Ava had they brought him here?

  “Listen, easy. I’m not….” Doric did not know how to finish that sentence.

  “Brave?” Hagon suggested.

  “I was going to say… a warrior, but sure, as you prefer.”

  “Of course you are,” Tarnig said. “Everyone can have a role to play. Besides, you can learn. I’ll train you.”

  “And you have your family’s resources,” Eirin added. “Ava knows we need funds.”

  “And your name,” Lerica said. “The son of the great Faric Auron.”

  “You’re not listening to me!” Doric snapped. “I compose songs. Write poems. Drink…. I’m not a soldier. Or a conspirator.” Doric saw a wave of disappointment sweep the room. “I’m not one of you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Eirin said. “Of all the people in the Empire, who would have more reasons than you for hating Tarsus?”

  Doric did not reply. She was right, of course, but what was he supposed to do? Sing poorly at Tarsus’ Legions?

  “Then what are you doing here?” Hagon asked, suspicious.

  “What do you mean, what am I doing here?”

  “Hagon, relax,” Tarnig said, then turned to Doric. “Who told you about us? Elrin? Tessa?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Hagon stood up. “Answer the question, Doric. What are you doing here?” He stormed towards Doric and unsheathed his sword. “How did you find us?”

  “Hagon, easy…” Tarnig said.

  “Shush!” Hagon demanded. “How did you find us, Doric?”

  “How did I find you?!” Doric yelled, almost bursting into a fit of rage. “You brought me here!”

  He removed the small parchment roll and swung it in Hagon’s face.

  “The mad woman in the middle of the crowd. The message inside the apple. The door behind the closet,” he said.

  The eyes of all five of them went wide.

  “What?” said Lerica, sounding terrified.

  Eirin took a step back. “No….”

  “Ava Mother.” Tarnig drew his sword.

  At that moment, Doric heard a thunder behind him where the door was, and Hagon cursed. He looked over his shoulder and saw the door explode into pieces. A steel gauntlet fell on him and everything became black.

  Tarsus had never called her to watch a trial. In fact, it was extremely rare for him to waste his time with trials. It was uncommon for a judge to pass a sentence that did not please the Emperor, and when it did happen, Vigild usually fixed the problem discretely. However, it was quite obvious why he had chosen to do it this time.

  In front of her, on their knees, were five men and women. Her cousin Hagon, her friends Lerica, Eirin, and Tarnig, and finally‒ the real motive for the show – Doric, her former husband.

  A Herald struck his baton twice against the marble floor and proclaimed, “His Imperial Majesty, Tarsus V. King of Augusta and Samehria, Ultrarch of Akham, and Emperor of Arrel.”

  Tarsus sauntered magnanimously to his throne and sat. Cassia did not move and remained standing in front of her throne.

  “What is the meaning of this, Tarsus?”

  “Commander, you heard the Empress. Please, tell us,” Tarsus said calmly.

  The Legionary Captain smashed a closed fist against his heart, took a step forward, and began his report.

  “After several months of investigations, the Information Scriptorium handed us the details that allowed us to effect the arrest of a group of conspirators. Our intelligence indicates that the suspects belong to an organized group of nobles whose goal is to topple the Emperor and seize the throne.”

  “Rebels, you mean,” Tarsus concluded. “Traitors.”

  The Captain agreed with a nod and proceeded.

  “At the location where the arrest took place, we found several documents, from maps of Augusta’s underground, to ship cargo manifestos, to the Emperor’s own schedule. We also found several letters filled with incriminatory messages, signed or addressed to the suspects. All prisoners are members of one of the Great Houses, and some have connections to the Imperial House itself, as is the case of…” he trailed as he took a look at the document in his hand. “Hagon Sefra, cousin of the Empress, and Doric Auron, former husband of the Empress. It is the opinion of the agents of the Information Scriptorium that the role of these two suspects was to provide sensitive information about the Emperor.”

  When he had finished the Captain once again hit his heart with a closed fist, then took a step back.

  “I think you forgot the part where one of your agents gave me‒” Doric was interrupted by a punch from one of the Legionaries.

  “The prisoners will only speak when authorized,” the Captain informed him.

  “The law is clear,” the Emperor proclaimed, rising.

  “Tarsus…” Cassia said.

  “The penalty for treason is death.”

  “You made a promise!” Cassia’s voice was shaking.

  “He conspired to have me killed,” Tarsus roared. “What am I to do? Make an exception because he used to be your husband?”

  Cassia fell to her knees. “Please!” she begged, tears rolling down her face. “He’s the father of my son.”

  The Emperor ignored her.

  “For treason against the Empire and conspiring to assassinate the Emperor,” Tarsus’s voice echoed through the hall, “I sentence you to death by hanging.”

  “No!” Cassia shrieked.

  “The sentence will be carried out tomorrow.” Tarsus spun around and left.

  The Empress was left sobbing on the floor in front of her throne. She saw the five prisoners being dragged away by the Legionaries. Before he disappeared, Doric smiled at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Fadan said.

  Aric kept his eyes on the floor. “I didn’t even remember his face….” he mumbled.

  Fadan didn’t know what else to say. “Maybe mum can do something about it….” He said.

  Aric shook his head. “He’s been safe all these years, and now that he came to see me they’ll kill him.”

  Fadan sat down beside his brother and put an arm around his shoulder as Aric cried and cried. He choked on his own sobs, blew his nose a dozen times, and wiped countless tears off his face. Fadan just stayed there, quietly, as his brother wept it all out; the father he had never seen and was about to lose, the mother who could rarely treat him like a son, the stepfather who acted like he wanted him dead.

  Fadan’s stomach turned. He had always known his mother had not come to the Citadel out of her own free will. He had always known that the Emperor, his own father, had forced her by threatening to kill Doric if Cassia did not submit. It wasn’t
fair for her. It wasn’t fair for Doric. It wasn’t fair for Aric. It wasn’t fair.

  “We’ll save him!”

  “What?” Aric sniffled.

  “We’ll get him out of the dungeons. You know a way in. You showed it to me.”

  Aric laughed. “That’s insane,” he said. “Even I can see that’s suicide.”

  It was, but they had to try something.

  “We managed to break into the Paladin’s headquarters and steal two flasks of Runium, right under their noses,” Fadan said. “The dungeon can’t be that different.”

  Aric thought about it for a moment.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “If we’re caught… think about what your father would do to you.”

  “You didn’t worry about that when you wanted to be a Mage,” Fadan said, standing up.

  “That was different. If we had been caught doing that the Emperor would have locked you in your room a few months, maybe give you a beating. But if he catches you trying to break my dad out of prison….”

  “Listen to me. Your father is going to be hanged tomorrow. If you want to do this, we have to do it now.”

  If only Fadan had had time to learn a spell or two… a way to become invisible for instance.

  “Aric!” Fadan called. “We’re going to save your father. I promise you.”

  One thing was certain. They had to at least try.

  Cassia stormed through the hallways towards Intila’s office. She found him at the door, handing documents to some officer. Seeing her, Intila sent the officer away.

  “Why did you do it?” Cassia demanded.

  “I did nothing.” Intila turned his back to her and walked into his office. Cassia followed him.

  “How could you?” Cassia asked. “The son of your beloved Faric. He’s practically your brother.”

  “He is no such thing,” Intila said.

  “Why, Intila?”

  “Listen to me, Cassia.” The High Marshal pierced her with his eyes. “I’m not a coward like your former husband. If I say I didn’t do it, then I didn’t.”

  There was a moment of silence as Cassia dealt with that. As if trying to defuse the tension, Intila sat at his desk. She sat across from him.