The Dragon Knight and the Steam World

by D. C. Clemens

  The oldest soldier in front of me, with his most distinctive feature being long, thick, white sideburns that sprouted down from otherwise thinning hair, said, in a rather raspy voice, “I am General Axel Noboa, head of the Vanguard’s western forces.”

  To his right, a balding man with a drooping gray mustache said, “And I am General Diego Valentine. I command the southern forces.”

  I dipped my head. “Mercer Eberwolf. A dragon knight of Orda.”

  I turned to Alex, interested to see if and how he would introduce himself.

  Noticing the eyes on him, my brother sighed and said, “Alex, not that anyone is going to talk to me.”

  “And why wouldn’t we?” asked General Noboa. “We need to seek clarification from a pure ghoul as much as we do a ghoulish dragon knight. Your retorts may very well determine your fate.”

  “I want to get back to Orda. That’s all you need to know about me.”

  “As my younger brother has so eloquently put it, getting back to Orda is the essence of our motivation. I hope our actions in the Ruts have done something to demonstrate how we are no enemies of yours.”

  “It was not an unappreciated feat, considering what you discovered,” said General Valentine. “The submarines have brought up many questions, but I’m certain that concerns you less than it does us.”

  “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of a machine that can traverse beneath the waves, but my wanting to get back to Orda does not mean I am not concerned about the state of this world. It should be obvious that helping me find a way back to Orda can be a way to help your people use the same path to escape Dretkeshna.”

  “And you believe vlimphite crystals are the key to creating this path?”

  “To power it. I already know the teleportation rune that will connect me to my world, but I do not have the prana to cast such an expensive spell.”

  “You can summon a dragon from another realm but not take yourself to another?”

  “Summoning spells are temporary and require both partners to link prana. Teleportation spells are permanent, so they require a lot more prana to achieve. Even in Orda it takes a good deal of prana to travel any significant distance. I’m going to need as much vlimphite as I can get my hands on.”

  “A tall order. Vlimphite is rare and a luxury.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’ve also heard it’s essentially a useless trinket to most. How difficult do you imagine it’d be to convince their owners to give them up for a cause that can send them and their people to a better world?”

  “Would it be a better world for their owners? Those who can buy such artifacts can normally buy a pretty good life here already. I’m not sure many would want to go to a place where they would have to leave all their extravagances behind. And how many people can you take with you? Even if we somehow gave you all the vlimphite we had right now, it doesn’t sound like a whole lot of people can be teleported.”

  “Better than none. Besides, Orda has vlimphite and a plethora of casters. I can get them to plan other ways to connect this world to Orda. I’m sure the rune that sent me here in the first place can somehow be used for the opposite purpose. The point is, I’m aware of your plight now, and even if it takes decades to get a few hundred people from here to there, it should be worth the effort.”

  “But will it be worth the cost?” asked General Noboa. “Chaos will gain a stronger foothold once it becomes known only a few can seek refuge in Orda. There will be battles and bloodshed over any amount of vlimphite, and the Vanguard will not have the manpower or influence to quell it.”

  “From what I’ve been told, and from my own expectations, violence will occur around me no matter what I do. You can send me to fight outlaws and turncoats all you want, I can’t stop people from becoming more desperate at the idea of fiend armies overtaking this continent someday. Anyway, it’s not as if I’m recommending we go about this carelessly. I swear to contribute what I can to peace if you can swear to me that you can find a way to gather the necessary resources.”

  “And if we don’t swear to anything?”

  “Well, perhaps ‘swearing’ is asking too much. What I do want is a show of goodwill at some point in the very near future. I want you to help me, or at least permit me to meet others who can help me.”

  “To be frank, these ‘others’ may be a problem,” said General Valentine. “If we move too slow for your tastes, it’s not only due to not completely trusting your intentions. Word of you is already getting out. Rumors and hearsay for now, but soon we’ll get pressured to respond officially. How that pressured is applied, and by whom, might be what dictates our course of action more than our own goals.”

  “As much as we would like to keep you under our jurisdiction,” continued his colleague, “there are those with much deeper pockets and influence than a bunch of ghoul hunters who will try to sway all our actions. They will promise money and support if we do as they want. Maybe a few will be honest. Many will not.”

  “So I’ve gathered,” I said. “If you wish to study the lay of the land awhile longer, if you believe the act will help you learn how to best go about helping me, then I can respect the approach. After all, this is unfamiliar territory for us both, so it’s advisable to be cautious. However, I think we can agree that being overly cautious can be as harmful as reacting too quickly.” I took a deep breath. “At this point we each have to trust that we have more to gain than lose by working together.”

  “Hold on,” said Alex. “So we’re still going to be waiting for them to do something helpful?”

  “For a bit, yes.”

  “Can we at least wait anywhere else but a damn boat?”

  To the generals, I asked, “How about it? Do we have your permission to find better accommodations?”

  The generals stared at one another for a short moment, then General Noboa answered, “We’ve heard a metal or stone cage would not provide much resistance to your flames, so I suppose there is little point in confining you to a floating one. Yet Vanguard eyes must always be upon you two.”

  “As long as they are eyes belonging to Major Holson and his men, I will agree to those terms.”

  “Hmm, Major Holson?”

  “It will be my pleasure, sir,” replied Eric.

  “Fine. However, we will provide you with a couple more men to support your watches. They will report in every midday as to the whereabouts of your charges. And you will not allow them to travel beyond Durnmere without our consent.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And there’s no reason to spread word of the corrupted brothers to anyone outside the Vanguard. That will only attract unwanted attention. I’m sure even a dragon knight doesn’t wish to deal with the fickle and unpredictable reactions of individuals only looking out for themselves. It’s hard enough to anticipate the actions of organizations with a stated purpose.”

  “I see no need to babble about us just yet,” I said.

  “Then I suppose our meeting has come to its logical conclusion,” said General Valentine. “We will continue evaluating our respective situations until favorable opportunities present themselves. Gods treat us seriously for once. Now then, I have some questions concerning Orda…”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The generals and most of their men left once Alex and I answered their questions. Thankfully, Alex used what shrewdness he possessed to not outright declare his former allegiance to a cult who wished to save Orda by killing much of it with ancient giant prana. The generals were simply aware of the truth that the Advent kidnapped two youths and introduced corruption into them. Nevertheless, the old warriors made it no subtle secret that Alex was the least one of us they trusted.

  Afterward, I discussed with Eric and the others where in Durnmere we could reside. Isabel swiftly provided an answer.

  “We could room with Damian! His house is big enough to, uh, house us.”

  “That’s because it isn’t his house,” said Bregman. “He lives with an older woman,
right?”

  “Yeah, a widow. So? She likes when people visit. She won’t mind. Unless you want to take the boys in, hmm?”

  “No, thanks. What do you think, major?”

  “What do you think, Felicia?”

  “Huh? Sure, stick ‘em with Damian. Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “That sound good to you, Mercer?”

  “Won’t hurt to visit.”

  “Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can stay with me,” said Svren.

  “Or me,” said Ishree.

  “You both live in tiny apartments,” said Isabel.

  “We can pool our funds together and buy a bigger place!” said Svren.

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we ever get there,” said the major. “Let’s go ahead and get off this boat and come up with our cover story.”

  The ship harbored by Durnmere’s Vanguard base, which is where my companions stopped by to collect their earnings, leave their reports, and request equipment repairs. Along with the two supplemental Vanguards the generals assigned the major with, the twins, the krewen, and Eric ushered me and my brother deeper into the city. Bregman, trusting the general’s men were adequately suspicious of the visitors, split from the group to go see his family. The lieutenant followed Bregman’s example.

  We entered a congested city filled with the noise of bells, those udu mounts making a clatter with their short talons on the brick or stony ground, whistling sounds, rattling metal, and random chatter from the crowds. As I noted from a distance, many more buildings here valued vertically than those in my homeworld. The star’s light also twinkled off numerous metallic surfaces.

  Hats. A lot of people wore them. Tall ones, wide ones, small ones, fuzzy ones. Perhaps due to how often they wore helmets, only Isabel felt the need to put on a short, brown, wide-brimmed hat. Like the headwear, everyone’s clothing looked a little different. The leather and cloth that made up the various vests, coats, shirts, dresses, and legwear were different shades of color, though usually of the duller variety. I saw a few cape-like over-garments, but hooded cloaks did not appear to be common. Strange how clothing I never considered peculiar made me feel as though I stuck out too much. Or maybe I wrongly attributed it to the clothing.

  Our saunter took us to a smaller type of train car waiting with two others of its kind in the middle of where two streets crossed. Behind these carriages was a booth where patrons lined up to buy a ride on one of the transports. After being handed a small slip of blue paper with some of their language symbols on it, Isabel pushed into one of the carriages. Once the inside became full of passengers, the mechanical beast jolted forward and scraped along a groove in the road. The few seats within were already taken, so most of us stood up holding on to poles for stability. The machine got to be a little faster than a trotting horse.

  Not the most pleasant form of transportation, but it did its job. The harsh bells got people out of the way, and the track allowed us to bumpily glide northward for about two miles before coming to a stop. We went from a busy, denser part of town to one quietly dotted with squatter buildings a sensible distance apart. From there we walked east to a neighborhood lined with large, if somewhat dilapidated, homes. The two-story brick house which attracted our steps owned a dark green roof and a nearly fully glass room attached to its side wall.

  The twins strode up to the front door and used a crusty metal knocker to announce their presence. The door opened to reveal a petite young woman in black and white attire.

  “Hello, Laura,” said Felicia. “Damian home?”

  “Yes, Miss Vera. He’s in the basement while Madam Navdor naps upstairs.” She peeked behind the twins. “Are all of you coming inside?”

  “Yup,” answered Isabel, smoothly walking past the servant to enter the house. “Some hot tea or something will be nice. Chop-chop!”

  We shuffled into a sitting room lit with a dying fire and a partly veiled lightbulb in the corner. Laura looked confused about where to go for a moment. She choose to head to the back of the home, where I eventually overhead her steps descending stairs. Louder footfalls soon ascended those same stairs seconds later.

  Out popped a late twenty-something man who was dressed, framed, and dirtied somewhat like a blacksmith. Half spectacles rested on his nose and a scruffy black beard insulated his jaw, chin, and upper lip. Strong arms opened wide as his grin on catching sight of his sisters. When Isabel obliged her younger brother with an embrace, I could see his height almost exactly matched her own. Matching her more subdued nature, Felicia’s half hug lasted shorter, though she did offer a peck on the cheek.

  “Holy crap,” said Damian’s dry voice. “You girls bring all your boyfriends with you?”

  “These are only mine,” replied Isabel. “Felicia’s have booked up the whole Takelen Hotel.”

  “Heh. Seriously, what is with everyone? Not that I don’t mind the company.”

  Once a quick explanation made it clear we planned to stay for a while, the owner of the house, Madam Celeste Navdor, was awoken and invited to join us. Donning a beige fur coat, a stately woman in her early fifties walked down the stairs several minutes later. A small hat with red feathers topped graying brunette hair. Damian removed his spectacles to speak with us, but Celeste kept her full ones on. Far from the worst mature woman a young man could couple with, but still not an option for my partialities.

  As the twins introduced everyone, I learned the new Vanguards were First Lieutenant Prat and Second Lieutenant Lacasa. From there the sisters discussed the atypical situation we found ourselves in as Laura made us tea and handed out the only little frosted pastries immediately available. The straightforward cover story they relayed painted me and Alex as Vanguard candidates who befriended the major’s squad on a recent mission and needed a place to stay while our confidential past was sorted out.

  “Confidential?” said Damian. “You’re not running from bounty hunters or something, are you?”

  “Geez, give us some credit,” said Isabel. “I wouldn’t bring danger to my family. It’s an order to keep their past a secret. I’d blab about it all I wanted otherwise.”

  “Order or not, that may not be the most prudent course of action, sergeant” said the major.

  “Yes, of course, sir. So, Madam Navdor, may we use your charming abode for a few days?”

  A marginally haughty, pleased expression graced her face. “Hosting Vanguard would normally promise to bring a ruckus to a poor woman’s home, but as you are family and accompanied by your commander, I can trust this will not become a base for hooliganism?”

  “As far as I and history can tell, Damian is the biggest threat for hooliganism.”

  Putting her hand on Damian’s forearm, an amused Celeste said, “Please, those days are far behind him. I suppose some of you can stay for a while. However, I don’t think I have rooms for every single one of you.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Felicia. “Most of us have our own places and will be in and out at different times.”

  “Though the amount of foodstuffs in your kitchen may prove inadequate, hmm?” said Svren.

  “You can go out and use your own funds to buy whatever foodstuffs you want,” said Eric. “And try not to work the young maid to death.”

  “Thank you, commander,” said Celeste. “Laura is still new to this. Her mother taught her well, but experience is the best teacher, and she still lacks it. She is still easily overwhelmed.”

  Mostly polite conversation continued for about an hour, which was followed by the hungry Svren needing krewen food. Ishree was to go with him, which prompted Celeste to offer Laura to help them buy additional produce in general, which got Damian to say he might as well go purchase some tools. Isabel invited me to see more of the city, and then Eric stated he needed to stop by his own home. Basically, everyone ended up deciding to go take a walk for the sake of not being in a suddenly vacant house.

  A bright, clear sky had warmed the air to an agreeable freshness, so it felt nice to humbly tak
e a stroll without anything rushing us. Nevertheless, I knew I could not hold out on humdrum strolls too many days in a row. To be fair, the stroll became a bit less humdrum when Svren realized I had not seen a “moving picture” yet. Once we dropped off the items bought at a nearby marketplace, many of us went deeper into town on a brief carriage-train ride to get me to experience a contraption fairly new to Durnmere and Dretkeshna as a whole.

  Tickets were paid for at a booth right inside a building with a colorful wooden sign above its door. We joined two dozen other ticket-buyers sitting on benches in a dimly lit theater. They faced a white wall, as did four standing people who held instruments, two horns and two stringed. Another worked a strange machine raised behind the seating area. After an announcement by the man tinkering with the machine, those patrons not already sitting took their seats. The lightbulbs extinguished, leaving only one of them to emit a meager light.

  However, another source of light appeared, a rapid, low ticking sound accompanying it. Its whitish, circular ray shone on the wall. A moment later, a flickering, wavering image materialized on the wall. It was a black and white image of a pretty woman wearing a scarf, an overly small hat, and simple clothing. She initially stood frozen, but at about the same second the musicians started playing a merry tune, the woman turned to walk down her ghost road in an exaggerated gait. It was like something between an illusion spell and an actual stage play.

  Both Alex and I looked back. The active machine somehow cast an illusion using a shining beam of light, though unlike a living caster, the machine produced noise. Nevertheless, it would have never occurred to me that an illusion spell could be cast by a lifeless object. Of course, they somehow “cast” elaborate melodies from boxes as well, so why not images? Why not have metal ships fly? Why not use glass bulbs to generate light?

  I was beginning to feel unsettled by the idea of machines able to accomplish challenges in a comparable way to magic or nature, but it helped knowing Ghevont would only be fascinated by these devices, not fear them. Perhaps the scholar did not exactly possess a warrior’s mettle, but his spirit certainly faced down the unknown without dread. Indeed, it excited him, for the unknown promised greater knowledge. While sensible caution, I too should not allow for a lack of understanding to conquer my mindset. Besides, it also helped knowing I could burn whatever I wanted if it turned out to be not worth comprehending.