Dream of Dragons

by Alex Alcasid

  Loren smiled, and turned up her nose in mock distaste. “Guard,” she started.

  “Wait, wait! You can’t send me to the dungeons! Ma’trii’s waiting for me at Markin’s, he never moves without me there. He might starve himself if I don’t come back.”

  “Who’s Ma’trii? A child?”

  “No, a feral wolf. He’s on all fours like a wild wolf, but he’s really smart, like a Beastman.”

  Some of the Beastmen in the crowd booed or hissed at the mention of a smart feral. To them, it was impossible. If it ever happened, an abomination that should be sacrificially offered to the gods. Keeping one alive on purpose was looked down upon. Loren held out a hand to calm any dissent and quiet the crowd. She wanted to know more.

  “You live with a feral?”

  “Yeah, he’s my hunting partner. I shoot, he tracks. He’s a really good tracker too, give him anything and he can find it.”

  An idea sparked in Loren’s mind, and she signaled the guard to let go. “He can track anything? I won’t send you to the dungeons, if you help me with something. What is your name?”

  “Name’s Kae. Kae the Huntress, not that anyone ever calls me that.” The woman answered, rubbing at her sore arms. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “What do you need in exchange for my freedom, princess?”

  Loren opened her mouth to reply, but glanced at the crowd. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’ll tell you at the castle. Come with me.”

  “But I thought I’m not gonna get sent to the dungeons!”

  “You’re not! Now hurry up and come with me before I tell the guard to grab you again!” Loren urged Kae, taking Wind’s reins again and leading the way up the path towards the Stone District and further up to Steel, then Gold, then finally the castle.

  “Are you really the princess?” Kae asked as they walked up the path. “If you were really the princess, you’d just tell your hundred handmaidens and guards to do whatever it is you want me for.”

  Loren rolled her eyes. “It’s not that simple, Kae. And I don’t have a hundred handmaidens.”

  Kae scoffed, and jogged to walk beside Loren. “Sure, princess. Whatever you say. So, what’s this super-secret mission that will let me go back to my camp in the forest?

  “Well…Have you heard about the assassination of King Gaturr?”

  “Who hasn’t? I’ve seen messengers scrambling towards Green Reach to bring word to Kespia, maybe even Thalassa even farther than that.”

  “Thalassa?” Loren frowned, trying to think back to her studies. It wasn’t a well-known country as it was an island far off in the middle of the sea. Travel by ship could take up to half a year, and just one way. “Isn’t that far to the south?”

  “Yeah. No one bothers to trade with them from here, but y’know…The assassination of a king is big news. Everyone has to know. Even Ma’trii was really torn up about it. He kept howling and crying when I got back from market and told him. So what about Gaturr?”

  “His son and heir Kaiten is missing.”

  “Yeah, so? Heard they haven’t found that ratty-maned lion yet.”

  Loren gritted her teeth and glared at Kae. “How dare you? He’s a prince, and my friend.”

  “And…so? I don’t know him, I’m no Beastman. I’m no snooty royal who would care about politics or whatever.”

  Loren pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled, frustrated. Maybe asking this huntress for help was a bad idea. She didn’t even know her, or her wolf friend, but it was a chance to help the search effort somehow. If Loren simply asked the king and queen or he advisers if she could go out and look for Kaiten, they would lock her in her chambers. For safety, they would say. Can’t have the heir to a kingdom missing; there was enough trouble with one already.

  They passed through the castle gate, and Loren stopped by the stables to hand Wind over to the stable hand. Arion was still here, shoveling hay and filling the troughs with feed. He was startled when Loren arrived and stammered his apologies when Loren handed him the reins. He took them and began to remove Wind’s saddle and halter, when he noticed Kae.

  The huntress stared back at him with a piercing and suspicious gaze. Arion quickly turned back to taking care of Wind, and Kae eventually lost interest in him. Loren began talking again, and led the scruffy huntress up towards the Castle. Once they were out of earshot, Arion peeked out of the stables and watched them go. The band of dark marking under his bandages started to burn again. He rubbed at them, but the hot, prickling feeling would not subside. He took up a stiff bristled brush and started to brush down the princess’s horse, hoping the work would keep his mind off Queen Haedria’s burning brand.

  “What’s with the stable hand?” Kae asked, as guards stepped forward to open the heavy double doors to the main hall. “He was looking really skittish. Is he scared of something?”

  “I’m not sure, actually. I don’t know him very well. He said he just started here today.” Loren replied.

  “It’s not like that’s suspicious or anything.” Kae muttered, her gaze wandering about as they walked. The two passed through a wide hallway, with a wooden door set in the stone of the wall ever several feet. In the gaps between the doors hung portraits in golden frames.

  Kae stopped at one of the portraits, and stared at it in awe. It was rather old, with cracking oil paints and pigment that was fading from exposure to the sun. A woman was seated in the portrait, wearing steel armor that was blackened as if from flame. The portrait’s sharp dark eyes seemed to look down at the huntress, and the woman’s tight-lipped expression intimidated Kae, though she couldn’t understand why. Loren noticed the huntress had stopped walking, turned back, and began to explain.

  Loren explained that every portrait in the hall was of an ancestor of the Cyrael family, all the way down the family tree to Ylfair Mariorr the Dragonheart, who founded the kingdom. The legends that were passed down from generation to generation through word of mouth before they were written down and recorded by scribes, spoke of how the Lady Ylfair earned that title.

  The ancient High Dragon that lives in the Yureun Mountains was fond of challenging warriors that ventured through the Valley of Whispers, and found the castle of ebonstone. The High Dragon would swoop down from its cave high in the mountain, and perch atop the castle’s tallest tower. Its roar shattered stone, and brought rocks tumbling down the side of the mountain to rain down on the castle courtyard. Birds would flee, screeching, from their roosts, and deer and mountain goats would gallop away fast. Only the bravest, most daring of warriors, would stand their ground to face the High Dragon.

  The High Dragon never fought the warriors itself. It wound send chimeras and basilisks to face the warriors, monsters that were fierce with hunger, and savage in their eagerness to kill. Most warriors died quickly to the monsters. Some would kill one. None could kill both. Until Ylfair Mariorr.

  The Lady Ylfair had only a badly weathered set of steel armor, that had so many holes and dents that it couldn’t possibly handle another battle. She was proficient with bow, sword, and axe, but none had mattered against the monsters. Steel broke against their hides, and arrows shattered as they hit. The dragon’s magic protected them from man-made weapons. Having her weapons shattered and useless at the beginning of the fight so enraged Ylfair, that she fought the monsters with her bare hands.

  Her steel gauntlets had been reduced to bits of metal strung together with string and dripping the black acid blood of the monsters, when the High Dragon came down from the tower to land in the courtyard. Its claws gouged at the ground, tearing apart the bodies of the chimera and basilisk. It drew itself up to full height, wings flapping hard enough to tear down trees, and crimson scales sharp as glass. The Lady Ylfair, exhausted from her battle, stomped her foot and roared her own challenge at the High Dragon.

  The High Dragon laughed, a low and rumbling sound deep in its belly, and bent it’s head towards Ylfair. In its claw, it held an egg. It was no bigger than a large chicken egg, and looked so small in th
e dragon’s large claw that Ylfair almost missed it completely. She picked up the egg, and looked up in alarm as the High Dragon inhaled deeply. The Lady Ylfair was bathed in dragonfire, but not burned. Her armor, what was left of it, was scorched black, but became as durable and unyielding as the dragon’s own scales.

  When the Lady Ylfair returned to her modest house in the village that would become Markholme, the egg hatched. From that egg came a baby dragon, no bigger than Ylfair’s palm, with shimmering blue and gold scales. That dragon was Lind, the dragon of Aldoran.

  Loren finished telling the tale of her ancestor, and looked back to see Kae snickering, and trying to hide it behind her hand. “What’s so funny about the legend?” she asked.

  “Well, that’s just what it is, right? A legend. Just because she has a pretty portrait hanging in the castle, doesn’t mean the whole thing actually happened.” The huntress said.

  Loren smiled, and brushed the small dragon pendant she wore on a short chain around her neck. It was the same resting dragon that adorned the Aldoran banners, but was wrought from silver. Bright blue sapphires were embedded as its eyes. “Where do you think we got the dragon on our banners?” Loren asked back.

  Kae shrugged, and walked on down the hall. “I don’t know. Someone could have had the idea. Any fool can draw, and send a design to someone who can sew.” She scoffed. “A warrior fought monsters and took home a dragon egg. Right.”

  Loren followed the huntress, and couldn’t help but smile. She started to giggle.

  “What’re you laughing at, princess?”

  A loud roar shook the castle, rattling the glass set in the window. Kae looked around wildly, bracing for a large beast to come running down the hall. But Loren only laid a hand on Kae’s arm, and pointed out the nearest window. As the huntress looked, Lind flew past the window. His wing beats blew a gust of wind through an open window, and it was so strong Kae was almost knocked to her feet. Lind roared again, and soared above the castle and out of view, only to swoop back down and glide across the tops of the waves, down below.

  “So…Where did we get the dragon on our banners?” Loren asked pleasantly.

  Kae did fall backwards, and had scrambled away from the window in shock and fear. She sat, back pressed against the far wall, and pointed with a shaking hand at the window. “Dragon!” she said, stammering. “The dragon from the plains!”

  “Yes, Kae. And it’s the same dragon too.” Loren said patiently, extending a hand to help the huntress up. Kae took it and stood, still staring out the window in a wide eyed expression of shock, unable to make a sarcastic comment.

  Loren led her on through the long hall, and the princess stopped at an unmarked door. It looked the same as the other doors, and was between a portrait of a stout man with more beard than face, and a plaque holding decorative swords. She opened the door and let the huntress inside, shutting the door behind them.

  “This is my private study.” Loren said, taking a small pile of books off an armchair and approaching a full bookcase, only to put the pile on the floor as there was no space. Everything had a light coat of dust, as if it had not been touched for a while.

  Kae looked around, noticing the books, scrolls, maps, paperweights, swords, things in jars, and moldy half-eaten food. There was so much various junk littering the floor that Kae figured she could cross from one side of the room to the other without ever touching the carpet.

  “Studying very hard I see, princess.” Kae said.

  “I haven’t had to have lessons with the tutor since a few years ago, and my interests wandered to things I can do outside.” Loren answered, walking around and moving things out of the way with no care for the dust and litter.

  “So... I’m here because a Beastman friend is missing?” The huntress prompted, in case Loren forgot why they came. Her study made it seem the princess was scatterbrained enough.

  “Yes, yes. I didn’t forget, Kae. I just need to find the right — oh here it is.” Loren pulled out an old map from a pile of other equally dusty maps, and laid it out on the desk. She liked maps, and collected the local ones of foreign kingdoms that showed street names and alleyways and little parks and long standing shops. The map she chose showed all the kingdoms of the continent; everything from Aldoran in the west, to the Eastern Shores.

  “Okay, if you’re thinking of where your Beastman friend could have gone, he couldn’t possibly be past Kilrough. Not if he went missing only a week ago. It would take a full moon to get from Rhodia to Kilrough.” Kae said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I walked there. With Ma’trii. It took forever, and all we found were rocks and mountain goats.”

  “Did you go through the path, and out the other side?”

  “No, we didn’t have any reason to. Our hunting grounds are the forest and the plain. We’re content with that.”

  Loren sighed and turned back to the map. “I need you to help me search from Rhodia to Markin’s Pass in the south. Maybe as far as Green Reach by the sea. Just in case.”

  Kae sat heavily in the now available chair, but coughed at the cloud of dust that rose up. “You don’t think that’s such a typical route, princess? What if he’s gone to Yureun?”

  “Can’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  “No one ever goes to Yureun.”

  Kae smiled. “That’s what they want you to think. So no one will bother to check, they’re too scared.”

  “Have you gone to Yureun?”

  “No, do I look crazy? No one ever goes to Yureun, it’s haunted.”

  Loren felt like screaming.

  Kae took one look at the princess’s face and laughed. “Calm down, princess. I’m just playing with you. But really, I’ve never been to Yureun. Me and Ma’trii tried to follow the Kilrough Mountains up as far north as we could; we wanted to find where they ended.”

  Loren sighed, and went back to her maps. She gave Kae the bare minimum attention. “Did you find it?”

  “No, princess. We followed the base of the mountain for months.” Kae said, settling in. “We walked on foot, passing through the golden grass fields of the Beastmen plains. We camped outside Rhodia, watching the fires flicker in their guard towers, and hoped the hawks wouldn't train their bows on us. We couldn’t enter Rhodia, did you know? Ferals are allowed in the Beastman city, but only if they’re the mindless kind. The kind of animal that’s self-aware and wild.

  Do you have a few minutes, princess? Well I don’t care if you do or don’t, if you want me to do something for you, you’re going to stand there and listen to me talk. The Beastmen who were born to walk on two legs, and had fingers instead of paws, those are the lucky ones. For every one of those Beastmen, there’s a feral born to an unlucky couple. Not blessed with the god’s favor, they’d say. Did you know it’s Beastman belief that when a feral is born to a proper Beastman couple, they sacrifice the child to the gods? They kill them; they take them out of the hut and kill them. But these ferals are different from wild animals. Wild animals, the Beastmen don’t mind. They’re a source of food, furs, labor.

  Don’t frown so much princess, I know what I’m talking about. The Beastmen can tell if a feral is a wild thing or an abomination. There’s a kind of intelligence in their eyes, the same one in the heads of proper Beastmen, and that’s what scares them. The idea that an intelligence, and awareness like theirs could be living in a body that cannot speak or stand terrifies them. They see themselves in these cursed Beastmen and would rather kill them than face the possibility that that could have been them. That by some lucky star or god’s folly, they were lucky.

  You look like you’ve never heard of this. I heard the Warmaster of your kingdom is a Beastman; didn’t he ever tell you? Well he wouldn’t, he’s the same as the rest of them. Cowards. How did I know? Ma’trii told me. In his own way. No, he can’t talk. He’s just a wolf. A cursed Beastman, I like to call him, I still see him as a Beastman even if he’s on all fours and wears no clothes.”

  K
ae went on talking more about Beastmen, and while Loren did listen for a while, she found her attention waning. Perhaps Kae talked so much because she only had Ma’trii to talk to, and the wolf couldn’t speak back. With a sigh, Loren wrote down their planned course on a scrap of parchment and folded it up, and put it in her trouser pocket.

  Now came the hard part. She sat at her desk, brows furrowed in thought, as she tried to think of a way to leave Markholme for more than a few days. The king could be swayed with the idea of a hunting trip, as he loved the adrenaline rush stalking an animal through the bush and skewering it with an arrow could bring. The queen was more shrewd and suspicious, she would ask why Loren would want to be away from the city for so long. She might send the Spymaster after her. And both of them wouldn’t trust the scruffy huntress that Loren picked up at the market.

  Kae talked on and on, not caring if Loren listened or not, and time seemed to blur together. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams that fell on the piles of books, and Loren was suddenly aware of how dusty the study was. She made a mental note that she should clean it out, have the servants come and help, and use the study more often. There was no certainty she would remember to do so later.

  While Loren was deep in thought, she heard a knock at the door. At first, she thought of ignoring it. Maybe no one would think anyone was in the study, as Loren herself hadn’t used it for so long. But the knock happened again. Loren’s heart began to race. She glanced at Kae, and the huntress was staring at the door like an alerted wolf. No one was supposed to know she was in here, without having been cleared by the guards.

  “Loren?” A voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Please, my lady. I know you’re in there. Don’t think I didn’t see you come in.” It was Spymaster Isran’s voice.

  Loren gulped, but crossed the room and opened the door just enough for him to see her face, and not the rest of the room. Her smile couldn’t hide her nerves. “Spymaster! Hello! Can I help you with anything?”

  The hood of Isran’s cloak was up, and it cast heavy shadows across his face. Even with the darkness, Loren knew he was not amused. “Your visitor, my lady. I know she’s in there.” He said simply.