Dream of Dragons

by Alex Alcasid

  Kae saw the light too. “You’re a mage, old man? Of what?”

  Gershwin chuckled, and Loren nudged Kae in the side. “I am, I am. One of frost. Snow and ice and everything cold.”

  “If you’re an ice mage, why did it get hotter in here?”

  “Kae!” Loren yelped, burning in second hand embarrassment from Kae’s straightforward talk. “You don’t just say that…”

  “It’s quite alright, little dragon.” Gershwin said. “My magic allows me to draw the cold to me, taking it in and away from you. And your friend here. He doesn’t seem to be used to the cold whatsoever.”

  “He’s from Kespia, across the sea.” Kaiten chimed in. He held Cassendir in his arms and hauled the young scholar into a more upright position. “It’s a desert island, so all they have is sand and sun.”

  Gershwin stroked his patchy beard. He laid a hand on Cassendir, the white light of his magic pulsing softly. “I understand. He’s unconscious, but alive. No, don’t worry little dragon. Concentrate on keeping the fire going and leave this to me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  In time, Gershwin dismantled their makeshift camp. With a white glow seeping under his tunic and trousers, the solid snow forming a roof above them moved, dissipating into frost and being blown away by the wind. The old man weaved more spells into the air around them, and the wind blew a bit warmer. Loren saw Kaiten remove a layer of furs, opting instead to pile them onto Cassendir. The scholar was looking a bit better, up and walking well enough, but it was best they moved through the north as fast as they can.

  The sun beat down on them, lending them warmth even though the light bounced off pristine white snow and into their eyes. They walked on in a group, huddled close together and holding each other’s hands in case one would lag behind. Even with the First Son’s magic, they were collectively too weak to take the risk of leaving even one person unattended. As they walked, Gershwin told them tales of the north. He shared what knowledge he knew of the land, keeping their minds focused and occupied even as their legs moved automatically, one foot in front of the other.

  The north, Gershwin said, was a country of nomads. The land was too hard and cold to plant or grow crops. There were towns closer to the border where nomadic tribes could trade handicrafts and game meat for vegetables and wheat grown in warmer lands. The nomads would roam in bands, bringing with them herds of elk and deer, making rare cheese from their milk and crafting accessories and weapons from their antlers.

  As she listened to Gershwin’s voice, Loren began to remember something she saw back home in the castle of Aldoran. Her mother’s map had depictions of all the towns, kingdoms, landmarks, and more from Aldoran in the west to the farthest corners of the Eastern Shores and everything in between. At the highest point of the map, Loren remembered the details were less defined. The only major landmark at the top of the map read “The Eye of the World.”

  “The Eye of the World?” Gershwin repeated with a raised brow when Loren asked him about it. “All I can tell you is that it is a repository for all the world’s knowledge, little dragon. Very few have actually seen it, as the path towards it snakes through mountains with treacherous, deadly drops. Blizzards blow unceasing, and if the winds and the path don’t kill you, the cold will.”

  “Have you seen it, sir?” Loren asked with wide eyes.

  Gershwin nodded grimly. “I have. Only once, and only a glimpse.” His eyes gazed into the middle distance, remembering a time long ago. “I was foolhardy, and thought myself to be very powerful. The cold was nothing to me with this magic of mine, and I thought I could brave the storm. It was a difficult journey, and even my magic gave out, causing me to collapse in the snow. Fortunately, I woke. I found myself in a well lit room, lying under blankets by a hearth with a lovely fire going. A young girl, much younger than you or the huntress, attended to me. She brought me hot food and drink, extra blankets to stave off the cold that seeped in through the walls. And she did this all while rushing about, carrying large tomes in her arms, taking them from table to shelf and back. She had silver hair, and told me only that her name was Keeper. Keeper Silver.”

  Loren’s brow furrowed in thought as she listened. “What was in the books?”

  “History.” Gershwin replied. “Keeper explained that each book held the events that occurred that day. All the events from everywhere in the world, occurring at the same time. Of course I asked how that could be possible. The Keeper only smiled and offered me warm wine. She bade me to sleep, and overcome with some magic, I did. When I woke again, I was in a cottage by the border, the one I grew up in as a young boy.”

  Cassendir leaned closer, growing more curious as he listened. “How is that possible, if you were at the highest point of the world?”

  “I have no idea, Kespian, I have no idea.” Gershwin replied with a light shrug. “Perhaps that little girl with silver hair had greater magic than anyone has ever seen.”

  In time, the border of the north was in sight. Gershwin said there was a path by the foot of the mountain, the edge of Kilrough, that was worn and marked by nomads. It would lead them to a border town, and with luck they may even find some nomads stopping to trade. Loren mentioned that they still carried some gold with them, so perhaps they could purchase horses and supplies. Cheered by the thought of their journey coming to a close, Loren and Kaiten spoke animatedly with each other, about their homes and their plans, their journey so far.

  Kae watched the young royals walk ahead of their group, oblivious but happy. Once the two were far enough out of earshot, the huntress pulled Cassendir closer to her and sidled up beside Gershwin.

  “You two are smart men, right? You know a lot about magic.” Kae said.

  Cassendir, the scholar, sighed. His arm was bent at an uncomfortable angle but Kae wouldn’t let go. “Yes Kae. We know about magic. And some other things, as I’ve lived in a library most of my life.”

  Kae ignored the slight, or she never noticed it in the first place. “Alright, I have a question for both of you. Can magic change you?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Gershwin said, confused.

  “I mean… Okay, its about Loren.” Kae dropped any pretense about being vague. She wasn’t very good at subtlety. “I think I figured how her dragon magic works. It gives her focus, I think confidence too. She gets better at fighting, better at tasks. But that’s only when she actually uses it, on purpose. And she never speaks.”

  “But Kae, we’ve seen her with the dragon gold eyes and speaking before.” Cassendir put in, impatient.

  “Yeah, I know. But when she gets like that, its like she changes. She gets violent, abusive. I know Loren isn’t actually like that. I think it’s the magic changing her.”

  Gershwin stroked his beard. All three of them watched the princess as they walked in a short silence. “As far as I am aware, the High Dragon’s magic passed to the Lady Ylfair is primarily used to communicate with the dragon of Aldoran.”

  “Does it control the dragon? Or just talk to it? I’ve seen Loren with the dragon, they were in the forest and they looked like they were talking.”

  “Well, I am unsure. It could be a direct link, the bearer of the pendant’s mind speaking directly to the dragon. Or it manipulates the beast outright.” Gershwin shrugged his thin shoulders. “I suppose only the royal line of Aldoran can really say.”

  Kae frowned as she listened. The huntress was still unsettled, unhappy with the old man’s conclusions. “What if… Can someone else’s magic, like your magic, change how someone else’s magic works?”

  Cassendir sighed. “Kae, slow down. What are you talking about?”

  “Seraphis touched and used Loren’s dragon pendant back at the outpost, remember?” Kae said, arms flailing about in desperate gestures. “And she had Haedria’s magic on her. What if the magic somehow passed into the pendant, and changed it?”

  “What if Queen Haedria’s magic, burned into Seraphis, tainted Loren’s dragon magic?” Cassendir said. The scholar was
growing increasingly tired. He rubbed at his temple and the budding headache growing there. “Kae, I don’t think that’s how magic works.”

  Gershwin folded his arms across his chest, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I have never heard of such a thing happening, huntress. But then again, I am only one man. Perhaps a powerful mage has, in the past, taken control of another using such means. What I know of Haedria Dagan is that she is ruthless and powerful, but unfortunately not much else.”

  Kae’s brows furrowed in thought, “There’s something wrong about her magic. I know there is.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Kae.” Cassendir muttered. He huddled further in his layers of furs and dragged his feet. “We’re tired, hungry, and freezing. I’m sure whatever you think is wrong with Loren will wait until we get to the nearest town. What I wouldn’t give for hot soup…”

  They walked on, but the huntress still could not shake the sense of unease she felt. She watched Loren call on the dragon magic just a few hours ago to help her make a meager fire. It was different from how she acted facing Danna in the inn. The princess was about to rip the mage apart back then; that was hardly the diplomatic princess she knew.

  The path at the foot of the mountain was more of a hole punched between trees at the entrance of a forest. The canopy had curved over a dirt path wide enough for one wagon to pass, and wheel tracks were worn deep into the dirt. Scraps of brightly colored woven cloth were tied to low hanging branches of the trees flanking the path, a sign — Gershwin said — to nomads and traders saying that this path was neutral territory.

  Patches of snow dotted the path, a great change from the unending blanket of white that they had to slog through for the past few days. Weak rays of light were able to break through the thick canopy, causing the forest path to be cloaked in a gloom, though it was afternoon. Loren stopped at the mouth of the forest, staring down the path and into the dimness beyond. She couldn’t see the end of the path from the trees, she had no idea where it would lead.

  Kae saw the princess hesitate. She put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, smiled, and moved to lead the way. Without thinking, Loren grabbed Kae’s hand.

  The huntress was someone familiar, someone good and kind. Loren realized in that moment that if she had to walk into the unknown, Kae the huntress was who she would have at her side. And here she was, squeezing her hand. Loren smiled, unbidden, and tried to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. Kae twined her fingers with Loren’s, held her hand in a confident grip, and started down the forest path.

  Kae felt at ease in the forest. The close, claustrophobic aura of the trees were different so far north, compared to the Kilrough Forest. There was less light, the air hurt her lungs from its sharp cold, and the smells and sights were all different. But it was a forest, and she was a huntress. With a single whistle, Ma’trii bounded ahead and stalked off into the gloom, scouting the path ahead for them. The wolf disappeared into the trees, the leaves ruffling quite a bit before they stilled.

  It was very quiet along the path. Nomads that used the forest path to reach the border town would amuse themselves along the journey with songs sung loudly by voices addled with wine and beer. But Loren and her friends were alone, with only the soft whistling of the wind through the trees.

  The huntress led the way, carefully guiding Loren down the pounded dirt path. It was rough, with many dips, and while Loren was not fragile, Kae acted as if she was. To her, Loren was a princess. She knew from all their days travelling together that Loren didn’t like getting her boots or clothes any muddier than absolutely necessary. She wondered if the border town had an inn, with clean sheets and a decent floor unlike the hovel they had to rent at Rhodia. Kae was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Loren behind her, watching her every movement, gazing at the huntress with such fondness.

  As she walked, Loren stepped on a dried branch. Her boot crunched it hard enough to cause the branch to snap loudly, causing Kae to look back in alarm. The huntress had every sense on alert, as she would in her home forest, watching out for ambushes and predators to the best of her abilities. She looked and caught Loren’s eye.

  There was admiration there, shining in the princess’s eyes. She was smiling, contended, till Kae turned around and Loren hastily looked away. The huntress saw Loren’s skin turning red with a blush and looked away as well, back to the path where she could stare ahead, mind racing at what she saw.

  Her hand squeezed Loren’s tighter, and they walked on in silence.

  The border town was some distance away from the forest, at the foot of the mountain and resting in its shadow. Small, squat buildings made of brick and mortar stood fairly close together, and the path leading from the forest widened out and ran through the middle of the town. Multicolored tents made of furs and tanned hides dotted the clear space around the town itself. Gershwin pointed to them, explaining those were nomad tents. Some were visiting the border town.

  They were halfway to the town when Kaiten stopped. As he did, the others followed and looked back. Gershwin had not stepped past the shadows of the forest.

  “Sir? Is something wrong? Are you alright?” Loren asked, concerned. She went back to him, unconsciously taking off some furs as she did. It was warmer out of the forest.

  The old man shook his head. “I am quite well, little dragon. However, this is where I will have to leave you. I cannot leave the north, it is much too warm for me. My health may suffer and my magic will not agree with me.”

  Loren frowned, but nodded. “I understand. Sir, thank you so much for your help in the north. Without you, we would have all died. Is there any way I can repay your kindness?”

  “Repay?” Gershwin laughed. He waved it off, and patted Loren heavily on the shoulder. “No need, little dragon. Just heed my words, and take care of your friends. Be careful, as where you go will not be as kind to you as I was.” He smiled and was about to turn away, when he caught sight of a nomad tent decorated with an irregular pattern of brightly colored hides. His expression turned so sour suddenly that Loren looked where he was staring.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing good, little dragon.” He pointed at the tent. As he did, a snow leopard Beastman, hunched with age and with thinning fur, pushed open the flap of the tent and emerged. “Keep away from that one. He is….” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Just stay away. That Beastman is more trouble than he is worth. Now go, and find yourselves something hot!”

  The old man laughed again and turned back to the forest. The gloom of the path quickly enveloped him, and soon Gershwin was gone.

  “Kaiten, do you know that Beastman?” Loren asked as soon as Gershwin was out of sight.

  The prince shook his head. “I don’t know many Beastmen on this side of the mountains. Most stay around Rhodia and Aldoran where they know our kind is accepted. Sometimes as far south as the port town along Green Reach, or along Markin’s Pass.”

  “Well, he looks adapted to the snow.” Kae chimed in. “Maybe he grew up here.”

  Cassendir muttered, having been quiet most of the way. “You’re going to talk to him, aren’t you?” he asked dryly.

  “Yes, of course.” Loren replied with a sly smile.

  “Do you have to go now? Why can’t we find an inn, or—“ Cassendir cut himself off with an exasperated sigh. “No, it’s fine. Just walk off without listening. That’s fine too, princess. It’s not like I’m still freezing to death or anything.”

  Kaiten chuckled. He put his arm around the scholar and led him at a much slower pace, following Loren who had bounded off right after the Beastman Gershwin told her not to approach. “It’s a bit warmer past the forest at least, Kespian. Let’s find somewhere that sells hot soup in the town and make Loren pay for it!”

  Loren was out of earshot. She followed the snow leopard Beastman, weaving around and in between nomad tents. She hastily apologized as she bumped into a mother and her child, almost tripped over Beastman children that only came up to her kne
es, and nearly stumbled into a campfire. She apologized profusely, and lost the snow leopard in the crowd.

  “Princess, maybe we should just head to the town. Call it a day.” Kae offered, taking Loren’s arm and moving her away from the nomad’s prying eyes. The northern nomads were a mix of humans and Beastmen, clad in heavily padded jackets and trousers with mismatching furs, just like their tents. They were friendly enough, but began to watch the bumbling stranger with growing suspicion. Kae waved at them, mentioning they had just come from the path and were disoriented, and pulled Kae out of the nomad encampment. “Come on. Whatever it is, it can wait till tomorrow. Okay?”

  The princess sighed. Kae was right, and she was getting ahead of herself. Loren nodded. “Tomorrow then. There was something off about that Beastman; the way he carried himself was strange and he seemed to be hiding something.”

  Kae stared at Loren for a second, then broke into a smirk.

  “What?” Loren asked, feeling a jab of embarrassment at being on the receiving end of Kae’s smirk.

  “Admit it, princess. You only want to investigate the Beastman because Gershwin was suspicious of him.”

  “Ah. You’re saying that I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “I am saying that, yes.”

  “Well.” Loren huffed. She pouted but broke into a quick laugh. “You’re right.”

  The name of the inn was “Hound’s Tooth Gap.” The sign that hung from the roof beams bore the lower jaw of a large hound, swinging from a single string and missing several teeth. The inn itself was as squat as all the other buildings in the town, with very small windows and walls of packed earth. A fire was burning nicely in the hearth, and Cassendir rushed to it immediately once he laid eyes on it. Kaiten took it upon himself to ask the innkeeper for rooms: one for the boys and one for the girls.

  The innkeeper, a tall man, thin as a rail with the northern fur tunic hanging off him as if from a pole, didn’t bat an eye. He directed them to their rooms, the boy’s took the first one on the right, the girls had the second one on the left. As the innkeeper turned away, he didn’t notice the fierce blush on Loren’s face. Kaiten paired her with Kae on purpose, she suspected. She had never told him of their sleeping arrangements before they reached the outpost where he was being kept.