Chronicles of a Royal Pet- Of Scales and Distant Shores

by Ian Rodgers

  In the end, though, Rosa would create as fine a series of earthen defenses for the camp and town as any battalion of army pioneers or engineers.

  “Your Familiar certainly seems… excited,” Knight-Captain Hart commented wryly, watching the Carbuncle zoom around with a cheerful smile on her tiny face. The commander stood next to me as I bent over a hefty pewter cauldron, brewing a large amount of basic Healing Potions.

  “She doesn’t have many opportunities to cut loose, as it were. So, since you needed some decent earthworks to defend the camp and town with, I let her do her thing,” I said, my focus entirely on the dark pink brew I was tending to.

  I dipped a gloved ‘finger’ into the potion to test the consistency. Thick and syrupy. Perfect. I waved my hand and the fire beneath the cauldron guttered and dimmed, and I removed a set of glass bottles from my Dimensional Pocket.

  “Do you mind helping me scoop the potion into the containers?” I requested, and the commander shrugged before taking one of the bottles from me.

  “Why not. Certainly beats paperwork,” the pink-haired knightess said, using a ladle to collect the healing liquid. I used a bit of magic to levitate the amount I needed out of the cauldron into my own bottles.

  “Doesn’t using magic on potions ruin them?” Hart inquired as she watched me work.

  “Only if they’re not finished, or if the potion uses sensitive materials. A Minor Healing Potion like this is made with simple substances, so a little extra magic in it won’t hurt. If anything, it will make the ones I’m storing a tiny bit more effective than the ones you are putting away,” I explained. She shrugged and went back to work.

  “You’re the Alchemist here, I suppose. Still, I have to thank you for your efforts. You’ve done more than I’d thought possible in the last few hours. At this rate, we might just manage to hold out long enough for the reinforcements to arrive,” Hart said, a tinge of relief working its way into her otherwise stoic expression.

  I nodded in understanding. It was quiet for a while as we worked, but the clanking of armor as a group of guards rushed over broke the silence.

  “Commander! Sir! We found something you might be interested in!”

  It was the trio of spearmen who had found me outside the camp earlier. Knight-Captain Hart held back a roll of her eyes and I stifled my snickers. It turned out the three of them were over eager achievers from Windfish City who’d signed up for army duty when news of the conflict arose. Most of the time they caused a bit of trouble as they constantly arrested and apprehended ‘anyone who looked suspicious.’ Even back in their home they had this habit!

  The fact that every fourth person they arrested turned out to be a criminal of some kind who’d evaded the law and was caught by their group for the most asinine of reasons was the only reason they remained as guardsmen. Even dumb luck could be a useful resource, so they were kept around as a sort of good luck charm by their superiors.

  Now, though, they had excited, pleased-with-themselves expressions as they hurried over.

  “What did you find?” Hart asked, hiding her exasperation.

  “Ta-da!” the trio cried out, revealing a number of fat, white mushrooms in their hands.

  “Okay? They look… tasty?” I said hesitantly. The Knight-Captain, on the other hand strode over and slapped the trio upside their heads.

  “Don’t go waving those around willy nilly! What if one of them dropped into the cauldron and ruined this batch of potions?!” she growled. The spearmen quivered in fear and took hasty steps back.

  “Am I missing something?” I asked, confused. She grabbed one from the trio and brought it over for me to examine. A faint sense of cold seemed to linger around the body of the mushroom despite the warm spring weather, and on closer inspection tiny black dots littered the cap.

  “Those are Winter’s Grave mushrooms,” Hart said, handing me the mushroom carefully. “They grow during the winter beneath snow banks and on frozen logs. When it’s cold, they have blue spots, and if plucked during that time, they are harmless and edible. But when it becomes warmer, the blue spots turn black, and they turn into a very deadly meal for the unwary.”

  “During the early years of colonization, a lot of people survived the winters eating these things. But in the spring many people perished because they didn’t know about how the Winter’s Grave became poisonous in warm weather and ate them when the spots turned black.”

  “That’s not all!” one of the trio spoke up, the one on the left. “They are magical mushrooms as well!”

  “I can feel the chilly mana emanating from them,” I said, examining the one in my ‘hands’ closely. There was a great deal of Ice Element mana sealed inside the mushroom.

  “We once caught a smuggler who had some of these in his possession!” the guard on the right chimed in. “And he used it as a magical catalyst to summon a bunch of ice-based spells!”

  “Really now?” I mused, ideas forming in my mind.

  “Really, really! So, we were thinking maybe you could use these mushrooms to whip us up some Ice magic to use against the lizardfolks!” the middle guard said eagerly. “Everyone knows they hate the cold!”

  “It’s true, the lizardfolk don’t like the cold. They rarely leave their territories when winter comes,” Hart said, backing up their words. “And Ice magic has been proven to be very effective against them as a result. Despite being sapient and walking on two legs like a human, the lizardfolk are still cold-blooded reptiles.”

  “Hmm. In that case, I might have a way to use these,” I said after thinking it over with Tara. “There’s a type of potion Alchemists use in combat that reacts in various ways to magic or other stimuli. Kind of like bombs, or liquid spells. And one of those attack potions, known as Dew of Frost, might work for this situation. If I substitute the Rimesilver in the recipe with these Winter’s Grave mushrooms, I can make plenty of magical bombs for you to use.”

  Wide, battle-hungry grins smeared themselves across the faces of the trouble making trio, and even Commander Hart looked excited at the prospect of magical bombs that could freeze foes in their tracks.

  I must confess I too felt a surge of eagerness at the thought of crafting alchemical explosives. Not because I enjoyed the prospect of violence, but because a childish part of me was eager to see some explosions.

  I shrugged to myself as I got to work. Must be a mage thing.

  .

  “Well, here they come,” Hart said quietly, more to herself than anyone nearby. Only a few silent nods acknowledged her words. The rest of the encamped army watched the approaching zalosian army with apprehension.

  Dawn had broken a few hours ago, and the morning sun glinted harshly off of a sea of golden armor and ornaments.

  Below the camp and the town of Hole’s Reach was the vanguard of the zalos forces, all two thousand of them. I shivered as I observed the scaled and clawed beings nearing us.

  The mine was built into the side of a mountain, which was attached to the Iron Peaks range to the north. To the east of us were forests that stretched all the way to the coast. To the west and south were hills and grasslands, which was where the zalos marched forth.

  There was the possibility the army could ignore Hole’s Reach all together in favor of heading straight for Pollastra, the nearest New Castellean city, but that would leave them open to flanking attacks and skirmishes from the now three hundred plus defenders of the tiny settlement.

  Not to mention the iron and coal the mine could provide for the human forces. If left alone it would become a thorn in their rear, supplying weapons and armor to ragtag bands of guerrilla fighters that would harass the zalos’ supply lines.

  The zalos, on the other hand, had no need for steel equipment. Their enchanted gold and obsidian was just as good, and their scales and claws were tough enough to turn aside cheap iron blades and to rend a full-grown man to shreds without difficulty, respectively. Their plan was to destroy the mine completely, preventing their foes from using the resources.<
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  This was a battle to crush any potential threats and cut off supplies. And there was no chance surrender would be an option. The zalos and kobolds were filled with decades of resentment towards us ‘interlopers,’ and the humans and dwarves and other inhabitants of Drakon who called this place home. This was going to be bloody.

  “You don’t have to stay here with us,” Knight-Captain Hart said suddenly, glancing over at me. “No one would fault you for leaving. You’ve already done more than enough for us, here.”

  “I’m staying,” I said stubbornly, Rosa nodding her head in agreement. “If we can hold out for three days, we can end this.”

  Hart sighed, and shook her head. “I know you have some sort of plan. But even if we survive the siege for three days, this scouting force of two thousand will swell to ten times that number thanks to the rest of their army arriving. Plus, dragons.”

  “Please, trust me on this. I can’t say much in regards to my plans, in case I foolishly give false hope, but I know they will come through for us,” I said softly.

  The knightess said nothing but inclined her head in acknowledgement.

  “Stay in the rear at all times,” she announced as she drew her long sword that hung at her side. “Tend to the wounded, do nothing else. I would hate to see you survive all this only to have your status as an adventurer stripped from you for ‘interfering in a conflict of nations.’”

  I bowed my head at her words. Rosa merely shot a thumbs-up while wearing a sneaky grin.

  ‘No, Rosa. You can’t fight on my behalf, either,’ I told her sternly through our mental link.

  (But why not?) she asked, almost pouting at my decision.

  ‘First, as my Familiar, your actions reflect on my own conduct. So, any damage you do is technically my own,’ I explained. ‘Second, and most important, I do not want you getting hurt, or worse, captured. I cannot bear the thought of you leaving me and Tara in any way.’

  (Awww, you’re so sweet,) Rosa chirped, and she nuzzled her cheek against my own. Well, my illusory one, at least. (But alright. I will stay by your side throughout this. You have my word.)

  ‘Wonderful. Now, let’s go find the field hospital. I want to set up before any injured show up.’

  A thought struck me, and I remembered something I had almost forgotten.

  “Commander Hart, wait!” I called out, jogging over to her. She looked back, surprised, and waited for me to reach her.

  “I almost forgot to give you this,” I said, removing an arrow from my Dimensional Pocket and passing it over to her.

  It was white. From the dove feather fletching, to the white birch shaft, to the silver arrowhead, the projectile was a pale, almost fragile looking thing. Yet it was filled with a sense of peace and calm, and a faint glimmer of light danced within it.

  “This is an Arrow of Exorcism, perfect against Undead, beings of Darkness, and also excellent for disrupting blood-based magic,” I explained as she explained the white arrow carefully.

  “Ah, I see. This is about the secret to the lizardfolk’s magic we discussed earlier, isn’t it?” she said, her question mostly rhetorical. I simply nodded.

  Last night I had been called in by Commander Hart and her officers to discuss ways to counter the zalos and kobold magic. They had mentioned, in passing, odd totems the scaled ones used that granted a massive area of effect enhancement to surrounding troops. I ended up telling a little bit about how they used blood sacrifices to power their large scale magical rituals.

  They had been surprised, and a little bit suspicious of how I knew this when no one else in New Castella or any other colony did. I countered by inquiring if any of them had ever asked the zalos and kobolds how their magic worked. I won that debate handily.

  “I only had enough materials to make a single one of these arrows,” I cautioned her. “But if our assumption is correct, all you have to do is fire the arrow at one of their totems, and it will hopefully destroy the connection to the magic, rendering whatever spells it had useless.”

  “I will have one of my top archers carry out this task,” she declared, before nodding at me in thanks. I waved it off and hurried back to my spot in the rear of the camp.

  ‘I hope it does work,’ I thought to myself.

  ~Don’t worry, it will,~ Tara assured me. ~Light Element magic and enchanting might not be your best disciplines, but you did good work all the same. I could tell. Besides, if all else fails, Exorcism is a Level Three spell, and you can just ‘accidentally’ enchant a few other arrows when no one is looking.~

  (Yeah, what Tara said!) Rosa piped in.

  ‘You two really are starting to think a lot like each other,’ I chuckled. ‘I don’t know whether to be horrified or proud.)

  ~(Why not both?)~ the pair of them said at the same time, before devolving in laughter.

  I made my ‘face’ smile slightly, only for a frown to appear instead as I winced involuntarily. The sound of an explosion had erupted behind me, and the cheers of soldiers warred with the startled roars of a more reptilian variety.

  More blasts came forth, and a faint chill crept over me as the wind shifted somewhat, bringing remnants of the frozen aftermaths of my Dew of Frost combat potions throughout the camp.

  The war had begun.

  Chapter 21: Battlefields and Promises

  It was dawn of the third day. As the sun crawled steadily up the horizon’s edge, a mournful trumpet called out. As one, the hundred plus remaining defenders started to pull back from the forward camp back behind the walls of Hole’s Reach.

  I moved up the slope towards the town accompanying the injured all the way. My job in the field hospital had proven to be far more vital than I had expected. Without my potions, the defenses would have fallen a day earlier. As it was, a mere twenty-seven extra hours was not much consolation.

  ~Stay strong, Jelly. They patients here need you calm, and not panicking. Just one foot in front of the other.~

  I nodded at her words, and turned my attention to the dozens of stretchers being carried into the town. Each one had a critically wounded soldier lying upon it. My potions could only go so far with healing. They needed actual Healing magic, or stronger potions. The latter of which was unavailable, while the former was stretched thin by the demand for their skills. Two bloodshot eyed women in stained Healer’s robes scurried around, fluffing pillows and easing what pains they could.

  (Arrows, Jelly!) Rosa suddenly cried out, and I raised my staff high, creating a large, semi-transparent purple shield over the convoy of the wounded.

  Stone and obsidian tipped arrows shattered uselessly on it, the Arrow Bane spell working perfectly. Unfortunately, as wide as my shield had been, it had not covered everyone, and cries of pain rose up from where I had been unable to defend.

  “Damn it!” I growled, slamming the butt of my staff harshly into the ground. I so wanted to unleash a storm of acid and spell-fire upon the zalos! But a firm look from the two Healers and some of the soldiers escorting us reigned me in.

  “Don’t do it!” the oldest of the Healers ordered me. “Save your strength for defensive spells! Waste not your anger on other things!”

  “Of course, Lady Gloria,” I uttered softly, my grip on my staff tightening imperceptibly.

  “You’ve already done so much for us. Please, don’t do anything foolish,” the Healer instructed, her voice kinder this time.

  ‘They’re all too kind to me,’ I muttered to my companions.

  ~They have come to respect you. Like you, even,~ Tara said, her own voice calm and placating. ~And they know that if you dare to do anything more than raise the occasional shield and brew potions for them, at best you will be stripped of your status as an adventurer. At worst, you could be imprisoned. And not even your association with royalty can help you get out of some kind of punishment with the Guild.~

  I grumbled at that. Rosa added her two copper, (This is loyalty, Jelly. Reward their faith in you by listening. And keep doing what you have been doing.)<
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  ‘Sometimes I wonder just how you two are so wise and worldly,’ I thought with a chuckle.

  ~I have access to a great deal of philosophical and psychological texts, as well as memoirs and self-help books,~ Tara pointed out.

  (And I lived for over a hundred years in a realm where the only options for a Carbuncle were to hide and flee from every threat, or try and fight and possibly end up captured or eaten,) Rosa commented. She sounded cheerful, but there was a noticeable bitterness in her that was transmitted via her thoughts.

  Neither Tara or I had anything to say to that, and wisely decided not to mention anything about the matter.

  “Move it, move it! Hurry up, get the wounded inside!” a soldier ordered as the convoy of stretchers sluggishly entered Hole’s Reach.

  “We’re going as fast as we can!” someone else shouted out. “How about you grab one of them yourself if you’re so concerned about speed?!”

  The argument immediately halted as Knight-Commander Hart appeared, sternly sweeping her gaze over everyone near the gate. Her left arm had a bandage wound tightly around it, and her armor was covered in dried blood. She cut a ghastly figure, and her glare stifled any and all confrontations. Despite three days of fighting, her presence still demanded attention.

  “Move!” she roared, and everyone picked up the pace. Her gaze found me and she strode over.

  “Jellik, are you well?”

  “Well enough,” I said noncommittally.

  She seemed to detect my flagging mood and tried to give me a sympathetic smile, but it came out as a grimace.

  “First time you’ve seen this much bloodshed, is it? To witness the true nature of war?”

  I nodded my ‘head’ silently, and Commander Hart shook her own head. “It’s never easy. Never pretty. And it will never get easier.”