by Andrew Rowe
Every few hours, I checked on the dragon’s condition and changed her bandages as needed.
Taking the extra time wasn’t entirely out of concern for her — I wasn’t in great shape, either. I ate twice as many rations as I’d been expecting to in that time frame just to replenish a bit of my lost strength. By the end of the two days, my left hand was still in bad shape, but I could move it a little. I’d mostly recovered otherwise.
Moreover, I wasn’t sure when I’d get another chance to sit down with a library. I learned a lot from those books, most notably the name the natives used for the continent itself, as well as the names of some of the major kingdoms and locales.
Perhaps even more importantly, I learned the very basics about what the locals used for magic.
To learn magic, one must first earn an attunement by taking a Judgment within one of the Soaring Spires. Only those worthy will be selected by the goddess.
Each attunement grants different forms of magic, and the location of the attunement mark on your body determines how your magic will be used.
For example, marks on the hand are useful for directing spells at distant targets. These are often considered ideal for ranged combatants. Leg marks are used for delivering spells directly through contact. Other mark locations have different functions.
Those who earn an attunement will grow stronger over time, with their aura changing color to represent their increases in power. The order of the colors is Quartz (Clear), Carnelian (Red), Sunstone (Orange), Citrine (Yellow), and Emerald (Green). Some speak of a level above Emerald, often referred to as Sapphire, but there are no known cases of any attuned of that level.
As an attunement grows stronger, it generates a more powerful shroud. A shroud is a defensive aura that surrounds the attuned, greatly reducing the force of physical and magical attacks that pass through it. The stronger the attunement, the more protection it provides. Shrouds are more effective against long ranged attacks, but offer some protection against close ranged ones, too.
Different attunements are obtained through different spires. For example, at the Tiger Spire in Caelford, you might obtain a Sentinel mark designed for resisting mental spells. In Edria, you might earn a Pyromancer attunement, specializing in fire magic. In Valia, you might earn a Mender attunement, with potent healing abilities.
I frowned, setting that particular book down.
Another supposed deity handing out magic to their followers. Wonderful.
That brought back some memories, and not in a good way.
This was worse in a way because, at least where I came from, people were still born with magic. If what this book said was true, it sounded like the humans here didn’t have any magic at all without attunements.
I read a little bit further, growing more and more disturbed, and finding more questions than answers.
“Human.” That was the dragon’s way of greeting me when she finally woke up.
“Dragon,” I replied. I offered her my waterskin, which she accepted.
The dragon downed the whole waterskin in one go, then ran a hand across her chest. “It seems your ministrations have been successful. My injury has mostly closed.”
I waved at her face. “Yeah, you’re looking better. The facial injury is going to take longer, sorry.”
The dragon frowned. “Hmpf. Your apology is unneeded. I knew that our battle might claim my life. But I am curious — how is it that you managed it?”
“Hm?”
“I was not solid, and yet you cut me. That should not have been possible.”
I tapped the hilt of the sword, which I’d belted back on before I’d started going exploring. I didn’t expect to run into more threats, but I’d been walking through the cave enough that it was best to be careful.
“When you changed into that misty form, you caught me off guard. When we stopped fighting for a moment to talk, though, I realized you probably hadn’t actually turned into mist. Sorcery can accomplish some strange things, but being completely in a gaseous state...how could you think? It didn’t make sense.
“So, I thought about what I’d seen, and I realized the mist wasn’t your body — it was just around your body, like an aura. That meant you still had a body somewhere...just not here. I thought back to a friend, Aladir, who told me about spirit sorcery — how we have a spirit tethered to us, that moves around on the spirit plane when we walk around here. I also knew it was possible to move to the spirit plane, because his father was capable of that.”
The dragon stared at me with an intense expression of focus. I couldn’t quite read what she was thinking, though. “That does not explain how you harmed me.”
I kept explaining. “Well, I figured you didn’t just move to the spirit plane entirely. There was something here, because you had something like a body that the mist was clinging to. Either your body was halfway to the spirit plane and half here, or your body and your spirit had switched places. Or maybe both?”
I shrugged, then continued. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and normally, you’re right, I don’t think anything ordinary could cut a spirit. But,” I patted the sword at my side. “I have an extraordinary way of cutting things.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I watched. You did not draw the sword.”
“Right. Well, you’re a spirit sorcerer, or something like it — so you should understand the idea of being bonded to an artifact.”
Her eyes shifted from me to the sword. “Artifact?”
“They call it the Sae’kes Taelien. It’s legendary where I come from.”
“Hmpf. I’ve never heard of it.”
That line gave me a weirdly conflicted feeling. I’d been defined by carrying that sword for so long that I didn’t know how to handle someone who didn’t think it was the biggest deal in the world.
I couldn’t decide if I liked it.
“Well, the short version is that it was forged to kill things that are traditionally considered invincible, and I’m bonded to it.”
“And you draw strength from the bond. I...understand that very well.” The dragon turned its head away, looking strangely distraught. “Why didn’t you draw it, though? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just cut me with the sword, if it is what allows you to harm spirits?”
I grunted. “Sure, it would have been easier to hurt you. Two problems, though. First, the aura around the weapon is so powerful that it’s difficult to control. I could have killed you by accident.”
The dragon frowned at me. “For a swordsman, you seemed strangely fixated on not killing me.”
“I hone my skills to protect others, not to take lives. You’re just guarding your home. I had no reason to try to kill you.”
“Except that I was presumably trying to kill you.” She turned her head to the side, looking dubious. “Is that not enough?”
“I hoped we’d be able to reach a non-lethal end to the confrontation, and we did.” I stretched my arms out, trying to work off some of the pain I was still feeling. “And that’s not the only problem with this thing. The sword’s power bleeds into me when I use it. If I try to use it too frequently, that will cause me serious problems in the long term.”
She nodded. “That’s a more practical answer, at least. And a good explanation for why you’d want another sword to use.”
“That’s only a part of why I’m interested in your sacred sword, but I admit having a magic weapon without the disadvantages this one has would be nice.”
“You will continue, then, and try to take Dawnbringer from the glade?”
I rubbed at my chin, thinking. “If you’re feeling good enough for me to leave, yeah. It sounds like Dawnbringer is exactly what I need to continue my journey.”
“Why such concern for my well-being? I attacked you.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “It was only a few years ago that I realized I didn’t have to be one more weapon in a war between gods. When you told me about how you’d been left here with a ‘sacred charge’? That’s how
I felt about holding onto this,” I patted the hilt of my sword, “for most of my life. A sacred task. A responsibility to do what the gods wanted me to do. Something more important than me, because someone more important than me wanted me to do it.”
“And now?”
“Now? I’ve seen a lot of religions, all of which think they’re the one that’s right. And I’ve even met a few self-proclaimed gods. They’re some of the most arrogant, egocentric creatures I’ve ever encountered.”
I shook my head sadly. “A divine task, more important than life itself? It’s a trap. Even if you succeed, the gods will just tell you to do more, and some other poor bastard is going to be charged by another god with undoing your work.”
“So, what are you doing here, then?”
“Doing a task for one of the gods, obviously.” I snickered. “Just because you’ve seen a trap doesn’t mean it can be easily avoided.”
The dragon laughed, and the sound was a wonderful contrast to her more typical growling. “So you’re saying we’re the same?”
I nodded. “Two hopeless creatures, guarding magic swords for gods we’ll never see.”
“I like that.”
I smiled. “I like you better when you’re not trying to eat me.”
The dragon wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Eat you? Why would I eat you? You probably taste terrible. I was just going to maim you a little.”
“Oh, is that all?” I chuckled. “My mistake, then.” I paused. “You sound a lot different when we’re just talking like this.”
“What? Oh, I was just being dramatic before.” The dragon pointed at the pile of books. “All the great tragedies about monsters defending their lairs from would-be heroes have traditional language like that.”
Tragedies...yeah, I guess that’s what it would sound like, from her perspective.
I tried not to laugh again because she sounded like she was being serious. “Right. I suppose I just haven’t read enough of those books.”
The dragon nodded sagely. “You should sometime. Maybe you could stay a little while longer and read with me?”
I considered that. “I suppose my supplies will probably last another day or so, but not much longer.”
“I...have food. People leave me all sorts of things. And I see that you found the well.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to impose for too long. But I’ll stay for a bit longer to make sure your wound heals correctly. Maybe you could tell me a bit more about the local cultures while I’m here?”
“I know all about them!” She beamed, sitting up, and then rolling out of the pile of blankets. I stared, surprised by her sudden burst of energy, then followed after she moved over to the pile of books.
She picked up a book and handed it to me. The cover read, The White Rose of Kelridge. “This is one of my favorites! It tells the story of a pair of nobles, one from Edria and one from Kelridge, who fall in love while their kingdoms are at war!”
I opened it gingerly, skimming through a few pages.
This is...obviously a fiction novel. Does she not know the difference between...
...Oh. That explains rather a lot, unfortunately.
I suddenly felt extremely guilty about leaving this dragon alone in her cave. “You know what? That sounds great. Let’s read.”
“Great!” The dragon grabbed another book from the pile, then headed back into the blankets. “Come on, come sit with me. It’s warmer over here.”
We went back to the pile, and I began to read.
It wasn’t a bad book. Not to my tastes, really — romance was never much my style.
But I did enjoy the company.
***
We read together late into the night, until she finally fell asleep on me again.
I considered leaving while she was resting. I suspected it might have been kinder to depart without an extended goodbye. I could tell she was a lonely creature and that she was getting attached to me. The longer I stayed, the more it would hurt her when I left.
I tried to justify why I was staying as long as I had. That she had useful information, or that I had a responsibility to tend to the injury I’d caused.
That was all unimportant, in truth. The real reason I was staying was because I wanted to. I was lonely, too.
I was in the middle of gods-knew where in a foreign land. I missed my friends, and I didn’t know how to find them.
I missed Lydia, even if I knew a part of our friendship was because she was using me in the same way that the gods always had.
I missed Velas, even if she’d hurt me more than any dragon’s claws, both physically and otherwise.
I missed my friendly banter with Landen, and seeing him try to take care of his cousin while helping her pretend she didn’t need any help.
I missed Asphodel, though I still found the idea of prophecies and seeing the future to be deeply unsettling.
I even missed Jonan a little. But just a little, because he was mostly irritating.
It hadn’t been that long since I’d seen them, but I knew it might be a long time before I saw them again.
If I saw them again at all.
But I couldn’t think about that. I’d focus on the positives, gather information and powerful items, and help them finish our group mission when they arrived.
In the meantime, though?
I didn’t mind having a new companion, even if it was only for a little while.
It made falling asleep a lot easier.
***
Each morning, I had a standard routine. I’d have something small to eat — ideally meat — then hydrate and begin to train. That didn’t change just because I was in a cave in the middle of a monster infested forest.
I started with some basic stretches, then went into practicing unarmed combat forms. There was something calming about repeating the same movements I’d done a thousand times, striking at the air and feeling it ripple at the motion of my fists.
After completing the first set, I paused, closing my eyes.
Body of Stone.
Stone essence — essence is our local term for mana, by the way, so I use the terms interchangeably — flooded into me, and I concentrated on splitting it appropriately throughout my body. The spell was a basic body reinforcement technique, increasing strength and resilience by flooding the muscles and bones with the power of stone. It came with a significant downside, however; stone mana came with stone weight. I felt a familiar pull on my limbs, as if I’d just poured cement into my bones.
Because of the weight, I rarely used the technique in a fight. Nine times out of ten, I preferred speed over the spell’s benefits. But that burden on my limbs made it an excellent training tool, and the more I used it, the more stone essence my body would generate naturally and acclimate to.
After years of practice, I’d reinforced my body to the point where I could punch through stone walls without having to cast the spell. I didn’t know what the current upper limit of my strength was, but apparently it was lower than the necessary amount to punch out a dragon, and that was clearly unacceptable.
Release Body of Stone.
Body of Iron.
The essence of stone faded from my body, replaced with the essence of metal.
I resumed my training, each punch and kick carrying even greater force. This technique was stronger than Body of Stone, both as a result of the inherent properties of metal essence and my higher degree of power with metal sorcery.
Unfortunately, the strain on my muscles and bones was much more intense. After about a minute of using it, I’d be weaker than when I’d started. After a couple minutes, it would probably kill me outright.
Using Body of Iron in a fight was a last resort, and not even a universally useful one. It was only applicable to situations where I expected to be able to end the fight in a matter of moments with the enhanced strength it provided, or for brief activations to increase the strength of a specific attack or defensive maneuver.
I ended th
e Body of Iron spell after about thirty seconds, as was typical for my practice. Even that amount of use caused me severe fatigue, but the benefits of practice outweighed the exhaustion.
After that, I reached down to the hilt of my sword.
Unlock.
The top of my scabbard had a metallic portion that kept the sword from being removed with a simple pull. It both served to prevent the sword from falling out if I tumbled at an awkward angle and, more importantly, as a method of preventing the sword from being drawn by anyone else.
When I wanted to draw the sword, I used a hint of metal sorcery to loosen the scabbard enough to draw it. When I wanted the sword to stay in place, I re-tightened the metal around it.
Each day, I drew my sword for a short time to practice controlling the weapon’s destructive aura.
As I began basic cutting motions with the sword, I focused on compressing the sword’s aura as much as possible. The goal was to eventually gain enough control to be able to use the aura safely without any fear of causing collateral damage. After almost two decades of practice, I was still far from confident in my ability to control the aura perfectly, but I’d improved tremendously over time.
The exercise also served another purpose. My ever-increasing control allowed me to perform other tricks with the sword’s aura on the rare occasions that I did actually want to use it in a real fight. The simplest of those was being able to push the aura outward deliberately in order to cut an opponent at a distance.
While practicing, I constantly dedicated a portion of my concentration toward preventing any further destructive essence from seeping into my body. That took up too much focus for me to do it in the middle of a real fight, though, meaning that any time I drew the Sae’kes in battle I had to accept that there would be a cost.
There was always a part of me that considered doing the opposite and deliberately drawing in more destructive power from the sword. I suspected I could make a technique similar to Body of Stone using that annihilating essence, and that such a technique would increase my power several-fold. But every time I considered it, I pushed the temptation aside. The long-term costs were too great.
