The Dragon Hunter and the Mage

by V. R. Cardoso

  Fadan’s eyes grew wide. He lunged forward and turned the corner to the first cellblock.

  All jail doors were open. There was no one inside. Not a single prisoner.

  What in the name of…?

  “Kind of blows your mind, doesn’t it?”

  Fadan caught such a fright he thought he would faint.

  Twisting toward the voice, he managed to say, “Stay right there,” a fireball burning in his hand, somehow not nearly as hot as whatever he was feeling in his chest.

  “Sorry,” the voice replied softly. It was a woman. She was standing at the entrance of the cellblock as if she had just trailed his steps. A gray cloak fell over her slim frame and long, silver hair covered her shoulders. “I stood here a while trying to figure out what to say so not to startle you.” She shrugged. “Concluded there was really no way to avoid it.”

  “Wait…” Fadan said, looking closer at the woman in the flicker of moonlight. “You’re one of my mother’s maids.”

  “Yep,” the woman confirmed. “That’s exactly what I am.”

  “What in Ava’s mercy are you doing here?” Fadan asked. His heart felt like it had slowed down somewhat, but he still had his fireball burning at the ready.

  “Looking for you,” she replied. “I would have waged three weeks of salary that you had been arrested today. You know, when you didn’t show up this morning?” She inspected one of the empty cells at her side. “They’re all gone. Today’s prisoners and the ones who were already here.” She returned her gaze to Fadan. “Including your brother’s father.”

  “I can see that,” Fadan said. “Now how does a maid follow me into the dungeons?”

  “Oh no,” the woman chuckled. “I didn’t follow you. Fabian’s spies assured me you were not among the prisoners. You weren’t back home either, so I figured you were probably planning one of your famous rescue missions. I was waiting for you.”

  Fadan’s mouth moved, but produced no sound. This woman was no mere maid… Who was she then? How did she know all these things?

  “I’ll be honest with you,” she said. “Your mother is in a bit of an emotional breakdown as we speak. I wouldn’t mind hauling you back to her.” She motioned towards Fadan’s fire ball. “I would, however, prefer not to get scorched in the process.”

  “Stay right where you are,” Fadan warned. “You said Fabian’s spies knew I hadn’t been arrested. Does that mean they also know where the prisoners have been taken?”

  The woman nodded and jerked her thumb towards somewhere at her back. “Transferred. They were taken aboard a prison barge hours ago. They’re probably halfway to Capra by now.”

  “Goddess damn it!” Fadan punched a wall and the fireball in his hand exploded, making the woman jump, startled. “Listen,” he said, trying to regain some composure, “I don’t know who you are, or who you’re working for, but if you really do work for my mother, please just… just tell her I’m okay. Alright?”

  “So… not coming with me, then?” She raised a finger. “Question. How do you plan on finding this prison barge? You’re not going to catch it before it reaches the ocean.”

  That gave Fadan a pause.

  “Do you remember that necklace your brother gave to you and you gave to your mother?” she asked

  Fadan frowned. “Yes…”

  “What if I told you that was not just an ordinary necklace?”

  Not an ordinary necklace?

  “The jewel was Glowstone…” Fadan mumbled.

  “Exactly,” the woman said, taking a step forward. “Have you ever heard of Tracker-Seekers?”

  Chapter 20

  The Secret

  Eliran halted as they crossed the stone bridge to the Mage’s Tower. The narrow mountain peak rose above them like the fang of a beast. Eliran sighed and walked inside, Aric, Leth, and Clea following her without a word. A gust of air wiped the sand off the floor in front of her. She swung her head from one side to the other, reverently drinking in each detail of the abandoned tower.

  With delicate hands, she brushed over the dusty statues flanking the hallways and the ribbon-like thresholds of doors. Then, one door caught her attention. She turned, moving one step into the room but refusing to go any further.

  “This was a classroom,” she said.

  Aric looked inside. There was nothing there. No furniture, nothing adorning the walls, it was just an empty room.

  “How do you know?” Aric asked.

  Eliran casually motioned towards the floor. “The markings,” she said. “They count the passage of time. We used to do the same thing at my school when a tutor was very boring.”

  She was right. Half of the room’s floor was riddled with strange stripes and circles engraved in the stone slabs. It had obviously been done using magic. Aric couldn’t picture anyone being bold enough to start chiseling away at the floor during a class, no matter how boring a tutor was.

  “I didn’t know there was a school here,” Clea said. “I thought it was just a research center.”

  Eliran turned around and left the room. “Every facility of the Academy was a school. There were some exceptions, but you could count them on your fingers. Come on. Show me the library.”

  Aric, Leth, and Clea took her through corridors and staircases leading to the abandoned library, but this time, the Sorceress avoided so much as glancing at her surroundings.

  “So, as you can see,” Leth said as they walked into the library, “the painting on the floor ends abruptlyas if the wall was originally not here. And…” he placed himself next to the protruding archway and dug a couple of fingers between the stone blocks, “you can feel air coming through the fringes. Also, if you look closely‒”

  “I know,” Eliran said, pushing him aside. “You can see the Glowstone.” She inspected the mechanism briefly, then grabbed a small vial containing a silvery liquid from the satchel Aric had returned to her.

  “Wait!” Leth said, grabbing Eliran’s arm. “How can we know you won’t just‒”

  “Just what?” Eliran asked. “What am I going to do?” She shook her arm free. “Your tower is across the bridge. This place belongs to me. Belongs to Mages.”

  In a single shot, Eliran drank the entire content of the vial and her face grimaced horribly. As if the air had suddenly turned cold, she began exhaling a small cloud, but the mist was as blue as her eyes.

  “Are you alright?” Aric asked, stepping closer to her.

  “I’m fine,” Eliran replied, shoving him away.

  After taking a couple of deep breaths, she turned to the stone door and spread out her arms. A blue halo engulfed her and sparks began flying off her fingers.

  A rumbling sound filled the roomas if a herd of wild animals was stampeding towards them. The entire wall began to shake. Then‒

  BOOM!

  Eliran was kicked back and sent flying away from the door. She slid across the floor for several feet until coming to a stop.

  Clea jumped with a squeak, and Aric sprinted after the Sorceress.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Eliran assured, her voice pained.

  “First Sohtyr, now a door,” Leth said. “This is definitely not your week.”

  “Apparently not,” Eliran said, standing back up. “Since I don’t know the counter-spell to that Glowstone lock, I tried to force it open, but whoever built that door clearly knew what they were doing. I don’t think I can get inside.”

  “Are you sure?” Aric asked. “You’re giving up after just one try?”

  “There isn’t anything else to try,” Eliran replied.

  “Can’t you… I don’t know, tear the wall down or something?” Clea asked.

  “What do you think I was trying to do?” Eliran snapped. “We’ll have an easier time figuring out the counter-spell.” She crossed her arms. “If only I hadn’t lost my visor... I’d bet my Talent Persea knows how to open this.”

  “Who’s Persea?” Leth asked.

  “Arch-Mage Persea,” Eliran replied. “She’s m
y… boss, you could say.”

  “You said visor,” Aric said. “Do you mean hypervisor?”

  “Aric!” Leth warned.

  “Oh, just give it a rest,” Aric told him. “We’ve come this far. We’re seeing this through.”

  “There’s a hypervisor here?” Eliran guessed.

  “Yes, downstairs,” Aric said. “Follow me.”

  A pile of sand had collected behind the door to the room with the hypervisor, forcing Aric and Leth to push it open with their shoulders. A strong wind blew from the only window inside, and Clea rushed to close it.

  “This is it,” Aric told Eliran, indicating the massive, Glowstone artifact. “Stupid Paladins probably mistook it for a simple mirror.”

  “It’s magnificent…” the Sorceress said in a low voice. Placing a gentle hand on one of the statues holding it upright, Eliran admired the artifact. “There were a few of these on the conference rooms of my school in Niveh. But none were this beautiful.” She raised a finger and did a weird gesture, making every Glowstone shard in the device come to life with a powerful glow.

  “Are you turning it on?” Clea asked.

  “The crystals are spent,” Eliran replied. “I’m recharging their spells. Alright, stand back. I’m going to contact my boss.”

  The three Dragon Hunters exchanged a look.

  “Why do we have to stand back?” Aric asked. “Is it dangerous?”

  “Might be,” Eliran replied. “If Persea doesn’t like you.”

  Again, the Dragon Hunters exchanged a look but decided it was better to stand aside.

  The mirror-like surface of the device rippled like a pond under soft rain, but otherwise, nothing else happened.

  “What if your boss isn’t watching her own hypervisor?” Leth asked. “She might be somewhere else.”

  Eliran looked over her shoulder at Leth. “Persea is always watching, believe me,” she said. And, as if to prove her point, the blurry image of a woman appeared in the hypervisor, the water-like ripples slowly bringing her into focus.

  “Eliran?” the woman asked in a muffled, metallic voice. “Is that you? Where have you been? You haven’t reported in weeks. I was about to send a search party after you.”

  Her tone was angry, but nothing in her tall, slender features gave any impression of it. She had her long, delicate fingers, peacefully entwined at her belly over a simple, yellow tunic. Her hair, tied in one single braid and as white as Eliran’s robes, fell over the left side of her chest, and would have tumbled over her shoulder if she had so much as twitched her head. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on her glowing face, despite the obvious age of her voice. It was unsettling, like looking at two people that shared the same body – an angry old woman, and a quiet young damsel.

  “Mistress,” Eliran said, bowing ever so slightly. “Your concern is touching.”

  “And your quip is tedious,” Persea retorted. “What have you been doing? Is your mission complete? And who is that with you? Yes, you three. No point hiding in the back. I can see you quite clearly.”

  “They are Dragon Hunters, mistress,” Eliran replied. “They are helping me.”

  “Helping you?” Persea asked. “How are they helping you? Wait…” She seemed to take a look around Eliran. “Are you in Lamash? What in the Goddess’s name are doing you there?”

  “That is a long story, mistress,” Eliran replied. “I need your assistance.”

  “I imagine it is a long story,” Persea said. “With you it always is… What do you need?”

  “Access,” Eliran explained. “Access to a walled off section of the library. Here, in Lamash.”

  The Arch-Mage sent Eliran a stern, long look. “You found it?” she asked.

  “Actually,” Leth intervened. “That was me.”

  Persea’s stern look shifted towards Leth. “Congratulations,” she told him. “You are smarter than the average Paladin.”

  “Thank you,” Leth replied. “I’m glad you were around to let me know.”

  In exchange, he received an even harsher stare.

  “Mistress,” Eliran called. “Can you help me?”

  Calmly, Persea returned her gaze to her subordinate. “No,” she replied.

  “Are you trying to tell me you don’t know how to open that door?” Eliran asked.

  “Of course not. I’m trying to tell you that there is no way I will let you inside that vault. It was closed for a very good reason.”

  “Mistress,” Eliran fumed. “This is important!”

  The Arch-Mage finally lost her composure. “All the more reason to let me in on every detail instead of telling me you’re too busy to report!” she yelled.

  Aric almost expected the hypervisor to shatter into a thousand pieces. He looked at Eliran and saw her fists clench, small sparkles flying off of them.

  “Very well,” Eliran said coldly. “You want a report? How about this for a report: You didn’t send me after just any random Archon, did you? You sent me after one of their leaders. That’s what Sohtyr is, isn’t it? One of the Head-Archons!”

  “You fought him then,” Persea concluded. “How was it? How strong is he?”

  “You could have had me killed!” Eliran screeched.

  “Calm down,” Persea commanded. “You are being childish. I had complete confidence in your ability to survive. I would not have sent someone that would not have been able to report back.”

  “Why not, at least, warn me?” Eliran demanded.

  “Because I don’t know how strong a mind reader he is, of course,” Persea replied. “Had he discovered that we possess that sort of knowledge, it could have raised suspicions. The less you know, the better. So tell me, what is he capable of?”

  “What is he capable of?” Eliran echoed. “He is capable of controlling a Dragon, that’s what. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  Persea’s eyes grew. “He’s done it?”

  “Did you know that this is what he was after?”

  “It’s what we are all after, silly girl. What else have you found? You fought him, you must have pried into his mind?”

  Eliran didn’t reply right away. She stared angrily at Persea with her arms crossed before saying, “There’s something frozen in the Frostbound tunnels. He intends to use the Dragon controlling spell on whatever it is. That’s all I know.”

  A serious frown grew on the Arch-Mage’s face. “Are you certain?” she asked, but didn’t even wait for a reply. Instead, her eyes drifted. “Would it even work? He obviously thinks so…”

  “What are you babbling mistress?” Eliran asked.

  Persea twitched and covered her mouth with one hand. “I cannot speak of it,” she said. “Not unless those three leave.”

  Looking over her shoulder at Aric, Leth, and Clea, Eliran smiled. “Suit yourself,” she said, returning her gaze to Persea. “But I’ll tell them everything anyway.”

  “Insolent girl!” the Arch-Mage yelled.

  “I need their help!” Eliran retorted. “I told you, Sohtyr is stronger than me. So unless you can send me any reinforcements, don’t ask me to keep secrets from them.”

  Persea squeezed her own hands until they became as white as her hair. “You know as well as I do that it would take me weeks to send someone down there.”

  “Then why are we wasting time?”

  Eliran’s question was left unanswered. Persea shifted her weight as she briefly inspected the three Dragon Hunters.

  “What are you so afraid of?” Eliran asked. “What has the Academy done this time?”

  “We have done what we always do,” Persea replied. “We protect the world from the things it doesn’t even believe in. We make sure the legends and myths and scary bedtime stories remain just that – stories. But our influence is diminished. Our watchfulness impaired. With the resources at our disposal, there is little more we can do beyond trusting that the knowledge we buried stays buried. Unfortunately, it would seem the Circle has discovered at least a good portion of it.”

  �
��Please, mistress, get to the point,” Eliran pleaded.

  Persea sighed. “Arkhemia wasn’t always as it is today. There was a time, long, long ago, when the most magnificent things took place. We know it happened because some vestiges of those times survived to our days. Vestiges like Bloodhouses and other places of power. We cannot know who built the Bloodhouses, what their runes actually mean, or how their Brewing Chambers turn Dragon blood into Runium. What little information we have about these times got to us in the form of religious texts and beliefs. All mention some kind of war between our Gods and the Gods of Dragons. But the accounts vary.

  “According to the Arreline cult of Ava, today known only as The Temple, we won. On the other hand, some Akhami sacred tablets seem to indicate that the Dragons won the war instead. In any case, for centuries, all our historians and archeologists had for evidence of this divine war that took place in our world were vague, dubious, and conflicting religious texts. That was until we found the Frostbound.

  “I’m not going to go into too many details about the discovery, but suffice to say that the place left everyone in the Academy extremely intrigued. It looked to have been built by the same people who built the Bloodhouses and dating spells suggested it was just as old. Not to mention it was completely frozen despite being right in the middle of the desert. These were the golden days of the Academy when the Empire was still young and prosperous, and we were its most influential and rich institution. After the Imperial House, of course.

  “Piles of resources were dumped on the Frostbound. Studying it became our biggest priority. What we found, however, made us forever regret this decision. Our archeologists dug through hundreds of feet of ice as hard as steel, and beneath it, they found a frozen, Dragon-shaped body as large as a mountain. We found the corpse of a God.”

  A chill crept up Aric’s spine and he shared a look with Leth and Clea. They seemed even more incredulous than he felt.

  “What!?” Eliran cried.