Chronicles of a Royal Pet- Of Scales and Distant Shores

by Ian Rodgers

  “You can look at the lamps later,” I promised, and she pouted by nodded.

  ~Those are Ocher Quartz, a magically attuned crystalline substance that is common in Drakon and the Dragoncross Mountains of Par-Orria, and often used in magic lamps as a light source due to their habit of glowing in the presence of magical energy,~ Tara explained for my benefit.

  (They’re super tasty!) Rosa added, rubbing her belly meaningfully.

  ~Yes, that too,~ the Spirit of Knowledge said indulgently. ~They are also a delicacy for Carbuncles.~

  ‘I remember seeing a few of these back at Palestone Palace, and around the Academy,’ I idly commented back. ‘I think I broke one once, too, back when I couldn’t control my size. Or maybe that was just a regular lamp since no one got too angry over it.’

  ~Most likely. Now, look lively! We’re here!~

  “We have arrived, honored guest, to the quarters of Senior Magepriestess Rikee,” the guide informed me, bowing. I inclined my head politely back.

  “Thank you for the help,” I replied. The guide said nothing and hurried off, no doubt to perform some other task.

  I used my magic to create a knocking sound near the door, and after a moment it swung open, with a light and airy “Enter!” coming from the other side.

  Sliding inside Rikee’s quarters, I discreetly checked it out as I closed the door behind me. Everything was made of stone. From the walls and floor, to the furniture, even the books on the shelves themselves were made from thin slivers of polished slate bound with metal rings. A tiny window set above the bed added a bit of light to the room, while a pair of Ocher Quartz magic lamps provided the rest.

  Reclining on the bed was the kobold from before, though she wore a new set of robes. Though still white, these had thick green stripes all along the sleeves.

  “Your name was Jellik, correct?” she inquired in smooth, well-practiced Common.

  I nodded, and she smiled. I think. It was hard to tell when she had a muzzle that didn’t work like the faces I was used to.

  “Yes. And you are Rikee,” I replied, giving a tiny bow towards her.

  She waved a claw, dismissing the formalities. “You came all this way to Xocxotl, and even used my dear friend Valen’s name to get inside. It must be important. Please, let us not waste each other’s time.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, grateful. Atop my head, Rosa, arms folded, peered at Rikee before giving an approving nod.

  (Her heart is peaceful, and lacks greed. She is a good person. We can trust her.)

  I made no outward gesture, but I thanked my Familiar through the link. Times like these I was glad I had a friend who could peer into the hearts of others and determine their disposition.

  “Rikee, I need to ask; do you have connections to any of the leaders of Xocxotl?”

  “I am the apprentice of Dragon Priest Mand, so I have some connection to those with power in the city,” she said. She tilted her head. “Why?”

  “Because I know who killed that convoy! And I know that this is all just a set-up!” I explained.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Two days ago, the same day we met, in fact, I learned that one of the towns in New Castella was destroyed. And someone framed the lizardfolk!” I exclaimed. “The person who did this was the same one who massacred your Dragon Priest’s procession!”

  “That is a heavy accusation,” Rikee said, rising from her bed and striding over to me. “Do you have any proof?”

  “Beyond my word for it? No,” I said, looking down. “But my word should count for something.”

  I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing! “After all, I am one of Nia’s Chosen.”

  Rikee looked at me in disbelief. Before she could reply, a deeper, male voice cut in.

  “A bold claim.”

  I jerked a bit, annoyed that once more someone had snuck up on me without my detection based senses going off. Although after taking a look at the person in the doorway, it made sense.

  The lizardfolk, dressed in gold colored robes, had features strongly reminiscent to a chameleon. Mostly in the odd, bulging eyes. If there was anyone with a stealth skill that could surpass my senses, it would be a magical chameleon, or something closely related.

  “Master Mand!” Rikee said, falling to one knee in supplication. The Dragon Priest waved a hand dismissively, and I knew where his student had learned the gesture.

  “Come now, child. No need to do that for an old lizard like me,” the priest said. His Common was outstanding. Fluent, even.

  “When I felt a massive source of mana enter the temple, I was naturally curious,” Mand began, peering at me. “Add to that the fact that if I were not so good at detecting subtle changes, I would have completely missed your presence, I thought it would be worth my while to see what was up.”

  He nodded approvingly at me. “Even dragons would be jealous of the sheer power inside of you. And I can tell it is still growing. You are but a child yourself, for all your might.”

  “Raw power I might have, but skill and experience are both things I currently lack,” I said politely. Mand chuckled at my response, nodding in agreement.

  “At least you know your limitations. Come, you two. Walk with me.”

  Rikee rose from her knee and followed behind her mentor, while I took a spot directly at his left.

  “Now, from what I overheard, you claim someone is trying to frame us for an act we did not commit? They seek a war between zalos and humanity?”

  “Yes,” I said simply. A pause, “pardon me, but is ‘zalos’ perhaps the name you use for your people?”

  “Correct. Very astute, young one,” Mand said happily. “Rather than ‘lizardfolk’ as your people call us, it would be best to use the true name so as not to insult or anger anyone while in Xocxotl.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Anyways, back to what I was saying, I recognized the signs. And I know, deep in my soul itself, that the person who slaughtered your people did the same to mine.”

  “Who was it? I fear I already know the answer, given who you claim to be, but I wish to know all the same.”

  “It was none other than the Apostle of the World Rebellion known as Root.”

  Rikee let out a hissing gasp, while Mand clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. He was silent for a while as we walked through the interior of the Temple of the Coil Serpent as he processed the information.

  “So. The time has finally come,” the Dragon Priest said darkly. “Perhaps you already know this, but every god in Erafore sent their faithful the same message, the same prophecy, over fifteen years ago. Recently, Lord Aravantis, the Dragon God, sent us another revelation, telling us that the first of the Chosen Ones had been found. Yet that means that the Void has begun to stir as well.”

  “We have, at best, another decade before the World Rebellion makes their move and we have another War of the Fallen Gods or Great Calamity on our claws.”

  Before I knew it, Mand led us back up the stairs out to the top of the ziggurat. Rosa and Rikee winced, the sudden harshness of the light startling them after so long in the yellowish glow of the temple.

  “But, I am afraid it is too late to stop what is about to come now,” Mand said with a sad shake of his head. “The armies of the zalos march with us now, and from Xocxotl they shall sweep into the human lands. We cannot stop it.”

  “No! There has to be a way to avoid this! To stop this!” I cried, shaking my ‘head’ so frantically Rosa flew off of it with a tiny yelp.

  “This is all the World Rebellion’s fault! They’re the real enemy! We cannot give in to their tricks and war amongst ourselves, weakening us!”

  “The warlords of the southern jungles have been waiting for this opportunity for years, Jellik,” Mand said sorrowfully. “They began marching their troops days ago, as soon as word that the procession went missing reached them. I only sent Rikee and Theep to make absolutely sure there was no stopping this.”

  I tried to speak, tried to argue that th
is was foolishness of the highest degree, but my words were shattered and swallowed up by a core-rattlingly loud roar. I flinched, and looked up, and I quivered in terror.

  Three massive dragons swooped down through the clouds, spewing flames and other elements into the air. Below, the crowds of people in the city cheered at the sight of the mighty beasts, and chanting and drums echoed forth from the armed camps outside the walls.

  “I told you, this war was a long time coming. I’m sorry,” Mand uttered despondently.

  As I stared, dumbfounded, at the dragons and their aerial display, I realized one of them possessed dark red and burnt orange scales. The same coloration as the shattered egg the dead Dragon Priest had been clutching in death.

  I swore. Loudly and obscenely. Tara and Rosa joined in as they noticed the same thing I did. This war really could not be stopped anymore. For the dragons, who ruled over the city-states of Drakon, this had just become personal.

  Off to the side, a sheen of gold caught my eye, and I looked over across the city. Marching up from the south, thousands of gold armored lizardfolk marched in formation towards Xocxotl. And in the distance, tiny gold smudges on the horizon informed me that thousands more were still coming.

  “I do apologize for this.”

  I turned around to face Mand, confused by his words, only to lose cohesion and collapse into a puddle as searing pain flooded my entire being. Behind me, I heard Rikee gasp and say something, but her words were garbled and incoherent.

  Rosa tries to say something. So too does Tara. I hear a pair of faint buzzing sounds on the edge of my thoughts. They both fade, until I can hear nothing, only a resounding, echoing silence.

  “Blurg…” I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. I tried to move. I couldn’t do that either. I tried to cast a spell, but it only caused more pain to gush through me.

  “You’re too important to be killed during this pointless conflict,” I heard Mand say from somewhere above me. His voice was distorted, and I could just barely understand him.

  “Do not worry, we shall keep you safe. We know that you need to grow more powerful in order to confront the Void and its minions. Once the war is over, you will be released so you can continue to train and grow. But until then, we cannot allow you to interfere.”

  I tried to do …something. What was I supposed to do? I tried to think about… lilies? What did flowers have to do with anything?

  I tried to focus, but darkness crawled into my mind and stained my thoughts with emptiness.

  A name. A beautiful face. Who? Who is she? Do I know her? Why do I feel like I need her?

  Before the darkness consumes my consciousness, silver light flares to life within me, and I drown in quicksilver…

  Chapter 17: A duel against the Void

  Everything was silent. Peaceful. Calm. Serene. Amidst the wilderness of Drakon, spring was slowly giving way to summer. The weather grew hotter, and a thin haze was starting to settle over the tall fields of wild grass and grains.

  The peace was abruptly destroyed as an explosion tore a massive chunk out of the landscape, deforming several hills and flattening the surrounding fields.

  In the air a man in a billowing, open coat floated, watched through the crackling spell-fire as his foe, a silver masked figure in a black hooded robe, hurled gnarled, thorny roots and vines upwards towards him. But Joris Cowl, knocking the twisted plant life out of the air with razor sharp blades of condensed wind, glared hatefully at the Apostle of the World Rebellion.

  He raised his hand, and a massive, swirling vortex appeared above the devastated earth. From the portal hundreds of gallons of water rushed forth, extinguishing the fires that threatened to spread and turn the land into a sea of flames.

  That was not the end of it, though. Joris tilted his hand and pointed it palm first at the nimble cultist. Under his command, the portal shrunk and moved, tilting itself upwards in conjunction with its creator’s will. Where once an endless deluge of water had erupted, now there was only a stream of water, thick as his arm.

  The cultist tried to defend himself by raising a veritable forest of ugly wooden tikis in front of him, their mouths and eyes glowing balefully, but to no avail. The pressure of the water stream cut and smashed through all the deformed wooden creations Root brought forth. The jet of water struck the black robed man, and cleaved him in twain! His left arm and leg went flying, torn off by the force. Yet, not a drop of blood flowed from the wounds.

  “You know, this is getting us nowhere,” Root commented idly, as if he hadn’t just been maimed. And, in the next few seconds, he wasn’t. His limbs disintegrated into wisps of inky smoke and shot back towards his stumps, before reforming back to normal.

  “How long have you been at this? Three days, now? And what exactly have you accomplished, besides venting your anger on me?”

  Joris said nothing. He merely created another portal, this time right above Root’s head. Instead of fire or water, a pinkish mist poured out, shrouding the cultist. The next instant another explosion tore the land apart, the pink colored gas transmuted into a deadly eruption as it came into contact with the air of Erafore.

  The dust cleared, revealing Root mostly intact. His head was attached to his neck by a thread of flesh, and both arms were no longer attached to his shoulders. But just like before, the wounds healed until not a mark was on him or his clothes.

  “Nine hundred and forty-four times you’ve severed my limbs in some manner. Crushed and broken bones? All of mine have been at least three times! Twenty-three decapitations! Ninety-eight times I was trapped beneath tons of stone! You set me on fire eighty-one times! Seventy-six times you’ve attempted to drown me, with fourteen of those tries with acid instead of water! And just now, you’ve tried and failed to kill me with your one hundred and fiftieth explosion!”

  Root shook his head, tsking softly. “You are indeed worthy of the title ‘Wide-Open Emperor’ for your mastery of teleportation and Planeswalking. Few beings, mortal or otherwise, could tear open holes into other dimensions to attack me with lava from the Elemental Plane of Fire, or douse me with the Elemental Plane of Water’s own essence. Yet for all your power, you are not strong enough to harm me.”

  At his feet, a dozen hideous black roses grew, a tiny, gaping mouth inside each of their blossoms. They began to sing and chant, swaying despite a lack of a breeze. All the grass around Root died, and a pulsating orb of dark green energy appeared before him. With a flick of his wrist, the stolen life of hundreds of plants zoomed towards the X-ranked adventurer.

  A portal opened up in front of him, and the attack disappeared into it, only to reappear behind Root and smash into him.

  A green-colored explosion tore up the ground this time, obliterating the abominable roses and vaporizing Root’s legs below the knees.

  “Make that nine hundred and forty-six times my limbs have been removed from my body, with the one hundred and fifty first explosion,” Root griped, waiting for the black smoke to reform his legs.

  “You might be right, I don’t have many ways to deal with your annoying ability to regenerate your wounds,” Joris said, speaking for the first time. “But that doesn’t mean I can let you off for starting a war!”

  He clapped his hands together before pressing them against the space in front of him. Cracks appeared in the air before extending all the way down toward the recovering cultist. The cracks crawled all the way up his left arm before the Apostle of the World Rebellion leapt away from the spell. It was too late, though, and his limb shattered like glass.

  Instead of turning into smoke like all the other times, however, the shards of the destroyed arm remained on the ground, trapped as broken fragments of reality.

  Root growled, furious, and sent jade colored vines with red thorns toward the remains of his body, trying to retrieve them.

  The shattered pieces of limb vanished with a flicker of grey light moments before the vines touched them, and appeared in Joris’ hands.

  “Since I can’t fin
ish you off properly, I’ll instead be keeping these pieces of your arm hostage until the war is over,” the X-ranker declared.

  “You know, given how vehemently you’ve opposed my interference and the birth of this war, I’m surprised to see you not stepping in yourself,” Root snarled, taunting the man above him.

  Joris grimaced, as if he tasted something unbelievably sour and foul. “Adventurers cannot interfere in matters between nations. We’re not mercenaries,” he spat out.

  He then grinned slyly. “Besides, I’m sure that Jelly will be able to do something about this!”

  “Even though he got knocked out and thrown in prison?”

  “Yes, despite all that he’s sure to save the day. He wouldn’t be one of Nia’s Chosen if he gave up so easily in front of overwhelming odds,” Joris retorted. He then smirked.

  “But you won’t be able to witness that happen. After all, you’re about to go on vacation.”

  Root froze, trying to figure out the meaning behind the X-ranked mage’s words, before suddenly bolting towards the nearest shadow as realization struck. Joris laughed at the futile attempt to flee, and suddenly was right next to the servant of the Void, his left hand on Root’s right shoulder.

  The next instant, they were no longer on the bountiful plains of Drakon, but in a gleaming, shining realm of pure Light energy. Countless gold and bronze discs floated in an infinite white void. Some of these were no larger than a coin, others were so massive entire cities could fit on them. And everywhere one looked was light. Sometimes blinding and hot, other times soft and cool. But there was not a shadow to been seen anywhere.

  Root screamed in pain as his robed body sizzled and popped as the purity of Luminoth, the Elemental Plane of Light, struck him from all sides. Joris laughed and flew away.

  “Have fun making your way back to Erafore, you son of a sword!” Joris taunted as he left. He picked up speed as a horde of shining creatures swarmed towards the blot of darkness that had appeared in their pristine domain.

  Angels, Archons, and other Light-based creatures had sensed the appearance of that which did not belong, and rushed towards the disciple of the Void, intent on wiping the stain on their Plane from existence.