217 - “Rise Again” - Tonklyn - A Tale of Heroes

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For two full days, snow had fallen on the mountain, and the canyon winds had funneled the blizzard over the shrine. The terraces, the bridge, the scattered rubble, and the twisted dragon’s body were all covered over in almost two feet of new snow. The bony skeleton of the bridge’s structure underneath held it steady, but the damage from the fight was still evident. The stone debris lay in scattered shambles across the walkway, and the snow, gray in the dim, blended into the charred black stones where the dragon had spit its last flames.

Several of the layered pools along the wall of the canyon had been emptied when the force of the dragon’s body clambering over them crushed the ledges holding the water in place. Without the hot water filling them, the shells were now buried in snow. Jagged stones from the damage stuck up like knives through the snow. The hot springs still flowed, cutting down the side of the mountain in steaming streams, keeping the snow at bay until they faded into the mists in the valley below. Ice flows on either side of the streams dripped in the gray light like blood from daggers. The rising heat of the waters underneath had not yet had time to melt the snow on the bridge, but icicles from that afternoon were starting to dangle from its precipices.

The night weighed heavy on the canyon and the thick darkness of shadow descended. The only sounds were the wooing winds and the haunting mumbled conversations of the springs and falls.

On the bridge near the shrine, a bit of the snow shifted. It crunched a little in the quiet, bumping up a few inches.

Then another piece near it moved, as if a small animal were burrowing under its surface. Then, for a moment, there was an uncertain still again.

Quickly, the snow shook and rustled from side to side with a fiercer motion. A clump of snow rose up, like something was trying to break out from under it into the dark air.

A dark hand burst out. It swung from side to side, sweeping the snow away. It’s motions were jerks and strokes, like its arm below were still frozen and lifeless.

Soon, a second hand emerged and shoved more of the snow aside.

A dark head and torso sat up, and turned over, straining to stand. His face was dark and scaly, and his hair matted and tangled. When he stood, he shook as if his limbs were uncertain of how to be steady. He tossed his cloak to cast off the snow, then bent and reached back into the snow to pull out his spear.

He meticulously began walking across the bridge, stumbling through the snow toward the path down the mountain.


“It will take him a long time to get back here.” Tonklyn said, as he and Kirraxal watched the drama unfold on their shadow stage in the throne room. That’s why Kirraxal wasn’t angry after the battle. It doesn’t matter as much if he’s not so good at fighting. He’ll just wake back up. I wonder how many unlives he has. One more? Two? Maybe he’s undying. 

“True.” Kirraxal agreed. “Maybe I should send him to Emberfire City to wait for you there.”

Maybe. This is an interesting twist that I’ll need to plan for.

“As you command, Your Majesty. As you command.”

<<<>>>

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216 - “Top of the World” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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Thissraelle and Eddiwarth stood on the crest of the mountain, in the same spot where they had been with Korr earlier. Hours before? Days before? She couldn’t tell. There seemed to be deeper, fresher snow than there had been then.

The winds blew their cloaks around them, and her hair flew around her hooded face. The sun was sinking low in the western horizon and the sky behind them was turning a dark blue. The mountain below them was covered in a thick blanket of snow dappled in an orange glow; the deep slope behind them was already dark.

She leaned back on him, her head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around her waist, across her cloak. Life had been a storm of changes in the immediate past. Her father turned out to be not so much of a villain, after all. Dragons had almost killed her, and then the object of her quest turned out to be a dragon. Then, that dragon had agreed to take her on as a student. Her friends, well, they were always there, but now she appreciated them so much more. And Eddiwarth was now her... My what? My friend? My love? There should be a word in between those two. She drew in cold air.

“It’s hard to breathe up here,” she said.

“I always feel that way around you.”

“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Probably, I’m sad to say.”

She laughed and pressed herself close against him again. “You need to read more poems.”

She let the winds blow around her and watched the sun dip a few degrees lower. She marveled at the beauty of the view stretched out before them. “So, are those the Graemal mountains?” She squinted and pointed slightly to the right of the darkening sun. There was a low line of jagged blue and white bumps on the distant horizon.

“I don’t know. I think that’s another branch of the Emberfire ranges.” He also squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand, then pointed. “Way off over there, more south. Those tiny points might be.”

She looked, too, but the sun was halfway hidden, and the darkness was descending. The few high and wispy clouds were lit with a vivid orange and gray.

“Now that’s breathtaking.” Thissraelle said.

She turned to face Eddiwarth and put her arms around his neck. “Thanks for showing me the beautiful view.” He started to say something, but she hurried to kiss him first.

Then they just embraced tightly and felt each other’s warmth in the darkening cold.

<<<>>>

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215 - "What Is This Thing?” - Granthurg - A Tale of Heroes

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Interludes:

It was snowing again in the Graelmal mountains. Not a fierce, harsh blizzard, just a steady snowfall where millions of flakes quietly float down through the still night air. Even though the city wasn’t high up the slope, nestling in the gentler foothills, it still got a lot of snow each winter.

Winterfest was only a week away, and many celebrations had already been going on. As the long dark of winter nights settled over the city, the Giants of Graemalan had begun hanging their lights and banners. The lights were small shards of gems, tiny oculi, dropped in the bottom of small glass jars. A wire was looped around the neck and it was set dangling over a door or window. Most houses had one or two, the most they could afford, but some of the wealthier families had dozens. They kept the snow in the narrow city streets glowing.

One of these lights shone through the thin curtain of a window onto Granthurg, stretched out long in his bed. He had been glad to get home so many months ago. After several years in the human-run world, it had been nice to not have to stoop in a house, squat on a chair, or curl up on a bed.

His mother and two younger siblings had been thrilled to see him, and had embraced him fiercely when he had surprised them with his arrival. That first dinner home had filled him with joy and melancholy. He missed his father who had passed many years before, and his older brother was away working the river.

He also carried a heavy heart whenever he thought of Thissraelle and Karendle. Every once in a while, he would raise his eyes to the sky and ask The Creator to watch over them.

He turned in his bed. His mattress was soft, but also a bit worn. He felt a familiar discomfort from under the mattress, a rigid stiffness. He knew what it was. He kept it there, hidden, but accessible. Occasionally, he pulled it out and thought about it. He did that tonight. He reached under his arm, under his mattress and grabbed the sheath. Holding it in the cool night air, he unsnapped the strap and drew the blade. The shiny, short white dagger glistened a little in the soft light coming in through the window.

What ARE you?

The point and edge were very sharp. He knew it well. He had pricked his finger on it many times, trying to feel it, to learn its powers. The only time he’d ever been surprised by it was the one moment when he’d used it to fight the drake while thrashing in the river. So many people seemed to want it, even though most people didn’t even know it existed. It frightened him, baffled him, and fascinated him. He wanted to find out about it, its history and function.

You’re a fool, Granthurg. Get rid of it. It will be the death of you.

He slid it back into its sheath and snapped the strap again. He reached under his mattress and replaced it. It wasn’t so comfortable, but that reminded him that it was there. Really, its very existence made him a bit uncomfortable.

He turned back over and resettled his blanket.

Now to just get some sleep.

<<<>>>

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212 - “Striking Power” - Korr - A Tale of Heroes

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“Slow, steady breathing. Steady.”

Slow. Steady.

Korr stood on the ridge of the mountain, his feet in a solid square stance. He took in a breath, but the cold and the thinness of the air made that difficult. He looked out across the deep valley floor below. It showed the expanse of Umbrawood, but it was much further beneath him than it had been before. He shifted his feet in the snow through a few forms. He set his arms at his side, his fists turned wrist-up. His eyes were closed. The frigid wind blew past him, billowing his shirt. He tried to ignore the cold.

“Now, shape the sun,” the dragon’s deep and airy voice said to him.

Korr took in another freezing breath and opened his hands. He slowly moved them to a place before his torso, one low, turned upward, and the other above it, palm down.

Shape the sun.

Beside him, Heathrax floated, his long tendrils flowing in the wind. His long tail shifted back and forth, many dozens of feet behind them. Thissraelle and Eddiwarth had come out of The Vast with Korr and stood on his other side, also several paces back, so as not to be a distraction in the lesson.

“Good. Now breathe your will into the su—.” The dragon’s voice choked on the word.

Korr slowly exhaled.

Is it there? I’m not sure if I’m feeling it.

When he was out of breath, he paused, then hung his head and broke his stance with a gasp.

Immediately, Heathrax turned his head away and coughed out in a few loud and deep raspy huffs. “I’m sorry. I tried to hold that in, to not distract you. Try again.”

It’s not the dragon’s fault. I can’t find my will.

He held his arms and shook his feet in the snow, then reset them into his stance. He blew misty fog from his mouth a few times and glanced over at his friends, who just nodded encouragement.

He looked at Heathrax, who nodded. “Set your stance again. Shape the sun, then find your will.”

Korr followed the instructions. He closed his eyes and dropped his mind into the space between his hands.

“Maan Korr, find your will.” Heathrax whispered. “It is your will you must find. Not your Master’s, not mine, not your friends’. You have served everyone else well, but this must be for you. It must be your will. Do you want it?”

I want this. I want to learn it. I want to have it.

He felt a warmth form in his chest.

Yes. I want this. I must learn this. It is my will.

The feeling grew inside him, a warmth deep within. He willed it to flow through his hands and coalesce into the space he’d shaped between his palms. Power and heat formed there, in a small spinning ball of energy. It grew and whirled more fiercely as he channeled more and more will into it.

“Yes. Good. Are you ready?” Heathrax asked with calm.

Korr dropped his right foot back, bending his knees and turning his shoulders and torso to the side. He opened his determined eyes and focused them on a large snowy rock outcropping a short distance along the windy ridge.

He leaned into his forward leg. With a twist of his hips and shoulders he thrust the palms of his hands straight out, throwing the ball of striking power straight at the stone. It hit and exploded, shattering the upper half of the stone into tiny pebbles and a few larger chunks that fell all around them, making impressions in the new fallen snow.

“By the Creator!” Eddiwarth shouted. Thissraelle shrieked and clapped with excitement.

Korr breathed calmly and returned to a resting stance. He turned to Heathrax and bowed. The dragon returned the gesture.

As Korr looked down, he saw one of the broken stones in the snow at his feet. He picked it up and inspected it. It had several fractured facets, delineated by sharp jagged edges. He smiled in satisfaction and closed his fingers around the stone. He was suddenly aware of the cold again, and shivered.

He was almost knocked off balance by Thissraelle grabbing him and hugging him from behind.

<<<>>>

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208 - “Ending the Fight” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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Thissraelle collapsed, exhausted, leaning against the fallen pillar. Noise and chaos swarmed around her. She leaned forward and sobbed into her hands.

I’ve killed us all.

What was I thinking? The acrid smoke of the burning around her made her cough. The bridge shook again.

Oh, let’s all take a stroll through the forest. Then we can have a nice picnic in the mountains! I’ve brought them all here to die!

Killed by my own father! Maybe. I don’t know!

It doesn’t matter. Let him take me. Let him kill me. It doesn’t matter, now.

She stood and began walking back along the bridge toward her father. Her companions still fought the green dragon, and it roared and cursed. The flames around her weren’t burning as hot, now, but thin smoke still flowed upward. She coughed. Through the heated air and curling smoke, she could see the wavy image of her father. The great red dragon lay sprawled beside him, broken and distorted.

“Thissraelle, stop!” He called out to her. “Get down!”

Thissraelle kept walking.

“Thissraelle! Get away!”

No. Come take me. Nothing here matters any more. Take me away and let my friends go.

She felt the heat from the ever nearer flames begin to burn on her legs. It was painful, but she kept walking. I am in control. I can choose where I go.

“Thissraelle! STOP!”

A cold whistling wind rushed down from the upper reaches of the canyon, blowing her hair into her face. The chill air also chased away the smoke stinging her tear-stained cheeks. The flames in front of her crackled and sputtered from the rushing. She stopped and looked above her.

A gigantic dragon head followed the wind, flying past her, above the snarling green dragon. Its body followed, snaking and slithering through the canyon air. It was larger than anything she had ever seen, even the eel whales. Its curving body was mostly gray flecked in white, with long white tendrils hanging off its chin, ears and arms, streaming out beside it like banners in a parade. It had tall white spikes along its spine, and though it had wings, even large ones, they remained folded across its back. It circled and flowed through the wind as if held up by deep magic.

The green dragon growled out a threatening roar and launched up into the air before the end of the gray dragon’s tail had even fully passed. The green dragon arched over the bridge and flew straight toward the larger dragon’s head, shouting words that Thissraelle couldn’t understand. They echoed through the canyon, and she dropped to her knees. Eddiwarth crawled over to her.

The gray dragon doubled back toward the bridge, coming up on the other side of the canyon. Its body continued on as if the neck had looped around a giant tree trunk. The green dragon looked much smaller by comparison, like the big drakes at the cathedral would have sized up next to it. Still, the smaller dragon didn’t look at all afraid. It rushed at the larger creature with its claws bared and blowing toxic green gas in a column from its throat.

The gray dragon raised up its head and neck into an S-shaped curve, and unfolded its wings. It threw them forward, three times, and the waves summoned up a cyclone of wind like Thissraelle had never felt before. She huddled down below a fallen pillar with Eddiwarth and Parith to keep from being blown off the bridge. The green dragon didn’t fare so well, losing its stability. It tumbled up the canyon and slammed into the pools on the far side. Steaming water gushed out of the broken pool around the dragon’s legs and tail.

The gray beast pointed its talons toward the green dragon and launched forth bolts of light which exploded in brightness on the green dragon’s tumbling form. It scrambled to try and get a footing on the rock wall, but the stones and pools just crumbled beneath him, washing him further downward. Its wings flailed at the air, but could not get enough force to help it up.

Thissraelle looked back at the gray dragon, her jaw slack, but unable to scream. It looked majestic and calm. Its tail now curled and flowed beneath it as it floated in the air, the wind making its many tendrils flap. It closed its eyes. The heated waters of the springs spouted up from the pools and the streams in the mountainside and flowed over the green dragon. The gray dragon slowly snaked forward, over the heads of the awestruck party, toward its opponent. The gray dragon opened its giant mouth and breathed frosted icy fog onto the green dragon. It shivered as the water froze instantly on its scaly skin, layering on thicker and thicker. Finally, its green eyes glossed over, and its stiff form tumbled down into the misty chasm below.

Satisfied, the great gray dragon turned its head upward, then snaked back down to the bridge. It crossed the bridge, and paused over Thissraelle and her friends. Thissraelle gazed up, her heart pounding in a strange mix of total terror and awestruck worship. Eddiwarth scooted back on his elbows, trying to get between her and the looming beast.

Something moved in the space beside her, and she jolted to look. It was her father. He was calm and unafraid as he approached the dragon.

The dragon’s face shifted, almost as if it were somehow smiling, and it dipped its head briefly. It spoke in a raspy voice, “Hello, Jaxil, old friend.”

Her father smiled and returned the bow. “Blessings to you, Heathrax. It’s nice to see you again.”

<<<>>>

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207 - “The Brave Little Drake” - Parith - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

When Parith opened his eyes, the pain that wracked his entire body made him close them tight again. He tried to move but that hurt even more.

My arm. I can’t move my arm. He reached up with the other hand, but found nothing in the air above him. He felt a strange disorientation mixed with the hurting. I’m upside down. Something is scratching my face. When he heard the little drake’s familiar trilling, he turned his head and opened his eyes. The drakeling squawked and began licking his face. From somewhere farther away, he could hear explosions.

The cold stone of the bridge beneath him shook as the big green dragon took another step toward him. Aw, stones, this isn’t over yet?

He shifted his head a little and pain shot down through his back and legs. He saw Thissraelle’s worried face appear over him. He smiled. “Hey. Miss Healer. You gonna patch me up?”

She didn’t smile back. She covered her face in her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing, or what’s going on. My father-- the dragons--“ She looked at him again. “You’re really hurt.”

“Am I that bad?”

“I’m going to have to try and get you down off this debris. Can you move?”

He tried to rise up, but could only move his head and arm. Pain overwhelmed him and he dropped back down. The drake nuzzled him, cooing timidly.

She sighed, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

He could hear more growling, shouting and exploding and it all seemed so distant, like it was happening in a room down the hall. The bridge shook again. Thissraelle moved back and raised her hands. A faint blue light formed around him, and she lifted him up and eased him flat on the ground. He shouted and winced.

“Sorry! Sorry! I think you’ve got some broken bones. I’ve never tried to heal anything like this. It’s going to take a lot of will.”

“Where’s Korr? And Eddiwarth?” Where am I? Oh, yeah. The shrine... He reached out with his good hand and touched her arm. “Thank you. You’re so good.”

“What?” She was distracted.

 He could only whisper, now. “Whenever things go bad, you’re the first one there to try and fix it. I need to be more like you.”

The dragon’s back leg landed only a few feet from him with a heavy thud and a shake, and Thissraelle screamed. The drakeling shrieked and jumped up onto Parith’s chest, launching itself into the air. Parith coughed with pain.

What’s he doing? Come back here!

They both watched the drake fly up and circle the huge dragon’s neck and head, drawing its attention. The dragon snaked its smoking head back and forth, snapping at the little pest, swinging its large forelegs, and trying to smack it down. Hot drips of flaming drool splattered down around them all.

“Drakie!” Parith wheezed, trying to shout, “Get back here!”

The side of the dragon’s sweeping head struck the drake as it tried to dive under it. The impact dazed it and knocked it upward in the air for only a moment. It flailed about, shrieking, while it tried to twist and regain control of its flight, but one of its wings didn’t respond and the little beast tumbled down. As it fell, the dragon grabbed it in its flaming mouth and bit down hard.

Parith reached out, trying to get up. “Drake!”

Thissraelle screamed again. The dragon shook its head back and forth, crushing the little drake.  It spit out the tiny body onto the bridge floor with a burning splat.

“Drake!” Horror filled Parith’s mind. He barely saw Eddiwarth and Karendle rushing to engage the big dragon, trying to draw it away from Parith and Thissraelle. “No! Save the drake!”

Thissraelle put her hands on Parith. He could feel her summoning her will. “No!” He gasped, “Don’t heal me! Heal Drakie! Save him!” He grabbed her wrist and tried to move her hand away, but he was too weak.

Thissraelle’s shoulders shook. Her tears fell on Parith’s arm. He felt the light swell in her and flow into his broken body. Then, his vision clouded in brightness.

<<<>>>

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206 - “Breaking Reality?” - Eddiwarth - A Tale of Heroes

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Eddiwarth flew out over the canyon floor, circling away from the bridge, held aloft by blasts of fire pulsing downward from his fists. From that vantage point, he could see the entire battle’s overwhelming chaos. Flames and smoke billowed from his left, sweeping across the bridge. Pillars had fallen, and huge chunks of the bridge edge had broken off from the impact of the dragon’s feet.

He saw the green dragon on the bridge striking at Parith. It smashed its front foot down on the stone bridge as Parith shot his bow and jumped away. Parith scrambled along the edge of the bridge, jumping over the rubble. Eddiwarth could see two or three arrows sticking out of the dragon’s long neck, like needles in a pincushion. It was bleeding, but not much. How are we going to kill this thing?

Beyond the green dragon, Korr was fighting the man in the black cloak. Farther away, clinging precariously to the crumbled edge of one of the water pools on the opposite wall of the canyon, the red dragon sat and growled. It snaked its head from side to side, looking back toward Thissraelle’s father. “Go-o!” it growled. “Go and brrinng him to uss!”

Thissraelle flew up from below on the far side of the bridge. She brought Karendle flying alongside her,  a little lower. Thissraelle pointed, and floated Karendle over to the bridge. As soon as Karendle set foot down, she drew her sword and rushed toward the fight.

The red dragon’s head followed Thissraelle as she flew, and began coughing and churning up its fiery guts. A foul-smelling goo drooled from deep inside his mouth, bursting into flame as soon as it came to air and dribbled off the dragon’s jaw. Its stomach churned, it’s neck flexed, and it’s jaw opened wide.

It’s gonna flame! “Thissraelle!” Eddiwarth leaned and rushed toward her.

Thissraelle saw him and spun in the air. The dragon’s neck pushed its head forward toward her, smoking jaw open. “Get away!” Eddiwarth shouted.

Before she could move, A point of gray energy flew past her, toward the dragon. As it cut the air, it left waves of distorted reality in its wake like the reflections in a pond following a skipped stone. It struck the dragon and exploded, in a way. The dragon looked for an instant like it had been painted on layers of glass, and each layer had been shattered and badly reassembled. Then, in another instant, the panes were put together a different way, but still wrong. The dragon screamed a horrific noise, retching broken streams of fire all around him.

Then just as suddenly, the shards of reality reformed. The dragon shook its head. Eddiwarth saw that its movements were strained, like its bones weren’t quite lined up the same as it had been before. Its neck wasn’t as smooth and fluid, and its wings not as straight. One of its forelegs now protruded from the front of its chest.

It roared again, but it was a strange sound, like its voice came from somewhere else. Its angry eyes fixed on the lone wizard at the far end of the bridge.

A loud voice called out from that terrace. “That’s right! Come and get me! You leave her be!” Eddiwarth startled. That’s Thissraelle’s father? He and Thissraelle both looked in surprise. Her father stood steady and firm where he had before but the world around him seemed to be quaking. He began striding toward the dragon, stepping out onto nothing as if he were walking on solid ground.

The dragon leapt from the pool on the canyon wall and flew at him an awkward jagged path. It spewed its pent-up flames before it at the old man. The wizard waved his hands and the burning retch flew through him as if he weren’t there. The dragon landed on the bridge with a solid crunch.

“What is my father doing?” Thissraelle’s voice beside Eddiwarth startled him.

“I don’t know. I thought you were going to be fried alive!”

Eddiwarth’s eyes were drawn to the bridge just as the green dragon there growled and stomped the stone. It swung its arm before it, catching Parith in the sweep and sending him tumbling and sprawling across the bridge. When he stopped, draped over a broken pillar, he didn’t move.

“No!” Eddiwarth shouted.

“I’ll help him! You draw the dragon!” Thissraelle shot down toward Parith.

Eddiwarth swallowed his fear, and let anger and rage welled up in its place. He flew at the dragon, throwing blasts of fire from his hands, one after the other. The blasts hit the beast, exploding on his neck and chest. Using the flame of his hands as weapons turned his focus away from the flight, however, and he tumbled down, twisting to try and brace for the fall. He crashed hard onto the dragon’s side. Dazed, he landed on the stone of the walkway.

<<<>>>

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205 - “Visions in Smoke” - Tonklyn - A Tale of Heroes

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“You are defeated! End this fight!” The odd warrior’s voice echoed through the dim of Kirraxal’s throne room. The great black dragon lounged on the rich plush padding on his stone dais. As always, Tonklyn stood beside him, along with the everpresent watch of the dragonbonded guard.

Before them swirled a foggy mist of blackness that moved and shifted into shapes. Like ghostly actors on a haunted stage, the mist played out the vision of the distant dragonbonded soldier, the one that Kirraxal had tasked with finding the dragon friend, Giatrice.

At the moment, the soldier was lying on his back and his view was staring up the threatening shaft of his own spear, now held at his throat.

This man fights strangely, attacking with only his bare hands and feet. And yet he’s defeated our armed soldier! The downed figure squirmed, then his hand shot forward. A dark dagger flashed in the sunlight, sticking deep into the abdomen of the opponent. The man reacted in pain, then leaned into the spear, thrusting it forward. The vision before them lurched and went dark, then dissipated into smoke.

The room fell silent.

Tonklyn hesitated, unsure how Kirraxal would react.

The dragon only harrumphed out some smoke, then raised his head up. Finally, he spoke. “Well, I had hoped that one of those dragons would have been able to draw out the dragonfriend. No matter.”

Tonklyn nodded. No raging fury today. Good. “Maybe Giatrice was one of the party there at the shrine. Maybehe’s the old man standing there behind them.”

Kirraxal nodded. He stretched his neck out, wrapping it around his body and settling his head. “He will yet be found. Leave me, now.”

As Tonklyn bowed, Kirraxal added. “These two dragons have served me well. Soon, when you go to speak with them, we’ll offer them high places in my kingdom. Especially Gerixain.”

Tonklyn raised up. “Is he the large greenish one?”

“No,” Kirraxal corrected, “she is.”

Tonklyn smirked, nodded, and stepped away.

<<<>>>

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204 - “Who to Fight?” - Korr - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

Korr rushed forward at the dragon in front of him. He launched himself up high and landed on the back of its hip. The dark green hide was thick and, though it folded into bumps and scales, it was also slick and shiny, making it difficult to grip. The more the dragon moved and shifted, the harder this was. He lashed out at the dragon with a fury of punches, but they only made the dragon flinch. Korr felt the impacts in a line of pain running through his arm.

This hide is so thick. I’ve shattered stones with my fists in practice, but this is not working.  The dragon lashed to one side and knocked Korr momentarily off his balance. There’s no time to waste! No, I will use the Ocean!

He braced his feet against the hip and reached up to the dragon’s side. He tried to set his focus. He drew back with his right hand, shifted his hips, then his shoulders. He imagined his entire body as a rushing wave of the ocean’s energy. He twisted and crashed that energy deep into the rocks of the dragon’s body.

The beast roared with pain and rolled away, making Korr slide down its side. The dragon drew its hind leg claws up and kicked Korr away like a dog scratching off a flea. Korr hit the ground hard and rolled to a kneeling stop, breathing hard from his effort. At least I got his attention. 

His eyes widened with surprise as the dragon’s thick tail swung toward him. With only a moment to react, Korr jumped high, landed his hands on the swinging tail, and vaulted over it, landing on his feet on the other side of the beast.

As he spun around and reset his stance, he saw the guard in black at the far end of the bridge. The man was steady and stoic, watching the fight, but not moving to engage. I wonder if he’s controlling the dragons.

Korr only took a moment to decide. He ran toward the guard just as the tail lashed back, smashing into the bridge railing. A tall column cracked, fell, and shattered to the stones, forcing Korr to jump aside before renewing his charge.

As Korr approached, the man turned slightly and lowered his spear in a defensive stance. Korr shouted, “Call off the attack!” but the man gave no response. He kept his cloak hood up and drawn low over his face. He began to trace small circles in the air with the tip of his spear, keeping it focused on Korr.

The man thrust his spear at Korr, who easily deflected it aside with his forearm. Korr stepped into the fight and thrust a strike at his opponent’s chest. The man blocked upward with the shaft of the spear, and spun around, swapping their positions on the bridge. Korr turned to face him and set a firm square stance.

“Once again, I must demand that you end the attack!” Korr looked in surprise to see the man’s hood had fallen away from one side of his face. His skin was dark and leathery, and covered in folds of scales. His eye had no whites, and only slits for pupils, like a snake’s. Or a dragon’s!

Those eyes narrowed, and the man hissed through his teeth. He snapped his foot forward and lunged with the spear. This time, Korr swept it aside, then brought his hand around to grip the shaft. He pulled hard, yanking the man forward, off his balance, and into an oncoming punch. The man grunted, and Korr took the spear in both hands, dropped it low, and swept the end of it under the man’s legs. He toppled over and landed hard on the stone bridge.

Korr gritted his teeth as he spun the spear around his back and stopped the point just shy of the man’s throat. “You are defeated! End this fight!”

The man responded by flicking his wrist. Instantly, Korr felt pain in his gut. He glanced down and saw a thin dagger sticking out of his reddening shirt. The man squirmed on the ground and Korr quickly plunged the spear into his throat. The man clutched it, gurgling and gasping, then went still.

Korr dropped the spear and staggered back, gripping the dagger’s hilt. He felt an odd burning sensation inside his guts, around the blade. Poison? His head felt light.

The bridge twisted beneath him and he fell.

<<<>>>

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203 - “Stones and Rocks” - Karendle - A Tale of Heroes

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Oh, Creator! Save me! We’re all gonna die! Karendle huddled low behind a stone broken off of one of the pillars lining the bridge. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands and forearms covered her head. Heat and smoke from the flames down the walkway blended with the steam drifting from the pools and the cold winter wind flowing down the canyon. It all made her sweaty face shiver. Her legs shook, curled up to her chest, unable to stand and run. Another growl from the dragon’s throat chilled her spine and made her cower tighter against the stone. It didn’t really provide much cover, but it was all she had.

The dragon took a step forward, and the bridge shook underneath her. It’s a dragon! We are all gonna die! I can’t look. When it had landed on the bridge, it had knocked over several of the pillars on the side like they were candles on a tabletop. Its wings had swept over her and sent her sprawling. As panic gripped her, she had crawled toward the fallen column to hide as best she could.

Now, she just lay on the cold stone of the bridge and felt waves of fear rush over her. Her heart was racing. Or is it stopped? She couldn’t tell. She kept her eyes closed tight and tried to suck in a breath. Her chest muscles were too tense, and she only gasped and coughed. Her hands were clenched so tight that her fingers ached. They each gripped something, but she wasn’t aware of what. It was hard and cold, like stone.

She brought her hands forward, before her face and opened them slightly, looking in her palms. My oculi! She held her two stones, one blue, the other a mix of green and brown.

She could hear shouting, now--  Thissraelle’s and Eddiwarth’s voices. Thissraelle’s father was calling out again as well. The bridge stone below her shook again. Karendle raised her head over the fallen pillar to look. Way up above her was the scaly chest and neck of the beast. Where’s Thissraelle? I can’t see her!

Off to her left was a conflagration making a thick, dark smoke blow her way. Across the bridge, through the smoke, she saw Parith standing with his bow drawn. His aim was fluid, in motion, trying to track the movements of the dragon’s head. He shot, and Karendle saw it bounce off the scales of its face. Parith quickly drew another and loosed it, making the dragon blink. It turned its head and snarled at him, lifting a foot to try and sweep him off the bridge.

Karendle rolled onto her back and focused her will on the boulder she’d been hiding behind. She thrust her arms out and the stone flew up under her power and caught the dragon on the underside of its jaw. Its head jerked back, then snaked toward her, it’s angry eyes flaring and its fanged mouth wide open. She quickly launched a second stone at it, which it easily dodged. A dark greenish-gray fog began to form in its mouth, burping and bubbling out from around its tongue.

Oh, that’s not good. She scrambled to her feet, then reached out with her will to one of the pillars that still remained standing. With a grunt she tried to move it with the mental oculus, but was surprised when it held firm in place.

The dragon sucked in a breath. I can’t break it off!

In a sudden flash of inspiration, she swept the nature oculus forward, cleanly slicing the pillar off near its base. With blue mental oculus in her other hand, she swung it like a giant club at the dragon. It hit the neck, just below the head, knocking it sideways and making it stumble.

It coughed and sputtered. Karendle was gasping for air as well, and the smoke from the fire was burning her lungs. She stepped away to find cleaner air.

The dragon lifted its foreleg and snapped it forward, trying to grab her in its sword-claws. Karendle jumped back to avoid the blow, but slipped on a loose stone and lost her balance. She fell, and her thigh hit the railing of the bridge. She felt herself tumble off the bridge and twisted, trying desperately to grab for the railing. She was already too far off, and her oculi flew from her hands. She fell spinning, screaming into the canyon and the steamy cloud below.

<<<>>>

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202 - “A Rival” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

“Thissraelle! Hurry!” her father called out to her. “Come to me!”

Thissraelle’s eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. Why is he here? He’s come for me, of course. She looked around at the fear in the eyes of her companions. He set us up. Heathrax, St. Ivarr, it was all to get me here, wasn’t it? And Eddiwarth? 

“You!” She pointed at Eddiwarth. “Did you tell him we were coming here?” He gasped and tried to speak, but the deep horrified frown on his lips told her what she needed to know.

“I... I didn’t...”

She cut him off. “Save it! He probably played you like he played me! Now we’re trapped. We can’t fight dragons. What can we do?” She spun back around to face her father. Without his Guildmaster robes, he didn’t look as commanding. He reminded her more of the fun-loving Dad she’d played with as a child. But I’m not playing games anymore! 

Thissraelle saw Karendle getting out her oculi. Parith readied his bow and jumped up on one of the railings by a column on the side of the bridge. Eddiwarth stood, confused, beside her, looking for some sort of hope in her words.

“No! You can't fight.” Thissraelle hissed at them. “It’s me he wants. I’ll distract him. All of you rush past him and get down the mountain as fast as you can. Wait—I’ll make you a portal!” She started to summon her will and held her hands forward.

Karendle grabbed her hand. “You’ll come with us, right?”

“Thissraelle!” Her father called, even more urgently. “Hurry! Come now!”

Thissraelle looked at her father, then back at Karendle. “No. I’m done with running. I’ve got to face him. Let go of me.”

“I’m not going through any portal unless you go first.” Karendle tossed Thissraelle’s hand aside. She stepped back and took her oculi, one in each hand. “We might not win but we can keep the dragons busy. You deal with your father.” Eddiwarth stepped back as well and ignited each of his hands with raging flames.

“Better hurry, they’re coming back!” Parith shouted out, drawing his bow.

Thissraelle turned back to the terrace. Well, if he wants to capture me, then he won’t actually kill me, right? Let’s see how he plays this.

“You want me?” She shouted at her father, “Then come and get me!”  Vivid shafts of dazzling light appeared in her hands as she strode toward him. Her long white hair flowed out behind her as she picked up speed. She swung her arms, throwing the bolts of light hard at him. He waved his hands and deflected them easily. She pulled her hands back as she ran, summoning more light and more will.

“Don’t fight me, m’little girl, it’s not safe!”

“If you’re so worried about me, where were you at the cathedral? Oh! Yes, you were the one that burned it down around me!”

A thunderous roar shook the canyon and an enormous dragon dove toward the bridge from the narrow slice of sky above, its open maw snarling and growling. Its expansive green wings flexed wide to break its dive and turn its massive scaly body over the bridge. Its claws, each as long as Thissraelle’s arm, crunched into the rock of the bridge as the dragon’s forelegs slammed down. The bridge shook as its muscular back legs landed. The body was big enough to block the entire walkway of the bridge. The long tail, jagged with sharp scales, swung behind and wrapped around a pillar. The hard, scaly green skin reflected the daylight. It raised its horned and spiked head up high above them and screamed a horrifying roaring shout.

Instantly, Thissraelle’s heart stopped and fell deep into her gut. Her wide eyes were bound to the face of the horror snarling some 20 feet above her. A scream sliced its way out of her chest, by way of her throat. Her feet turned her body around and she ran. I’m dead. I’m already dead. She suddenly became aware of her heartbeat pounding in her head as her feet pounded the stones.

“Thissraelle! Stop!” It was her father’s voice she heard, through the noise. Her first instinct was to stop, to obey her father, like she had done many times as a small child. This time, however, stopping was difficult and she stumbled and fell to the bridge, tumbling and rolling. As she raised her eyes to look at her father again, a second dragon, a deep red, swept over the bridge, coughing, hacking, and spitting. The walkway before her erupted in an explosion of flame, spraying burning and smoking retch all around her. The heat was unbearable. She rolled over and began scrambling on scraped hands and bruised knees back toward where she came from.

Eddiwarth knelt beside her and helped her up. She looked into his eyes. He was bleeding from a cut on his left forehead.

The dragon on the bridge roared again, this time dripping flaming drool from his tongue and teeth. He growled, forming garbled words with his mouth. “Wherrre isss...” he snarled, as he spat out smoking drops. “Where iss Heathhhraxx? Tell me now, before you die!”

<<<>>>

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201 - “Beauty and Fear” - Korr - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

“...And vast are the works of His creation.” Vast, and so very beautiful. Korr moved to join the others that had stepped around the bend in the path. They all stood in silence, enraptured by the springs and waterfalls before them. Pungent steam filled the warm and wet air breezing down the canyon.

Thissraelle moved first, trying to step along the path but her snowshoes were clumsy on the stone. “Look! There’s no snow on the path here!” She leaned on the rock of the canyon side and reached down to untie the webbed shoe flats from her boots. Others began to do the same.

“These shoes,” Korr mused while taking his off, “were a big part of the struggle that we had to go through to get here to this place. It is interesting that they were both very difficult and even painful to use, and yet without them, the trek would not have been possible.”

“Hey, come back here!” Parith shouted at the drakeling. It had jumped from his shoulders and crawled down the path toward the terrace. Parith jumped after it, but had only removed one snowshoe, so he stumbled to his knees.

Korr carried his snowshoes under his arm and moved along the path. When he got to the terrace with the bridge, he unslung his pack and set it and the shoes down against the nearby canyon wall. He stretched his back and shoulders. Karendle and Thissraelle followed close behind.

“I’m amazed,” Korr said, “at the beauty shown here. The combination of the natural pools and the constructed shrine and path is truly artistic.”

“It is!” Thissraelle agreed.

“I wonder how it was engineered. The latticework on the bridge supports would have required...” Korr let his thought trail off.

“It was probably done magically, rather than manually. Rock shaping mages using nature powers, I would guess. It would still have been a lot of work, anyway.” She stepped toward the bridge.

“Woah, easy, hold on there!” Karendle held her arm back.

“What?”

“You’re just going to stroll across it?” Karendle looked at her in disbelief. “A little caution, please. Every old story they tell kids has trouble on bridges! Something’s below it, ready to grab you, or something’s above it, waiting to swoop in on you. Or it’s ancient and ready to crumble as soon as you step wrong. Meanwhile, halfway out, you’re caught, and vulnerable.”

Thissraelle laughed, but still hesitated.

Korr looked across the chasm. “Those stories might be nothing more than just that: stories to enthrall children. Or they might all be true. However, one thing is certain, that being that the shrine is our goal, it is on the other side of the canyon, and the bridge is the simplest way to get there.”

Eddiwarth and Parith nodded to each other. “It is what we’re here for,” Parith added as he started to cross the bridge. “Isn’t it?”

Korr followed, gesturing to the others. Thissraelle glanced at Eddiwarth for confirmation, then Karendle. Finally, she shrugged and followed.

As they moved out into the center of the canyon, they felt the wind rushing through from higher up the mountain. It was both cold from the deeper snow and higher altitudes above and a bit warm and damp from the steaming springs nearby. Korr looked forward past the others and stopped, calling out. “Hold!”
At the end of the bridge, in the shrine itself, a man stood. He was dressed in black and dark brown and carried a spear, and he had a posture like he was blocking or guarding the way. His dark brown cloak billowed in the wind. His face was hidden in the cowl. He said nothing and issued no commands. Even though the man stood defensively, and the spear was pointed to the sky, Korr instinctively moved his feet and arms into a firm and ready combat stance.

Parith’s hand went to his bow. “What...?”

Before any of them could react, there was a flash behind them. “Thissraelle!” a man’s voice called out.

Korr stepped aside and turned around to look with the others. Another man stepped onto the bridge from the terrace where they had just stood. He was older, with a light-colored and flowing robe. Thissraelle’s face was distorted with recognition, surprise, and anger.

“Oh, no. Not him!” She spat the words into the mist. “By the flames of the Creator...”

Korr returned his focus forward to the man in black. The man had not moved, nor spoken. He didn’t seem to have any reaction to the appearance of the other.

“Who is that?” Eddiwarth asked Thissraelle, gesturing at the man in the robes.

Thissraelle made a deep disapproving grunt. “It’s my father.”

“Your father?” Karendle interjected. “The one you’ve been running from? The one who sent Eddiwarth to catch you?”

“Among others, apparently.”

Karendle grunted. “No wonder you have issues.”

The small drake screeched loudly, startling everyone. It sat on the stonework of the bridge between them, staring up into the sky and flapping its wings in fear. It ran toward Parith and jumped into his arms, and crawled onto his shoulders under his cloak. Korr followed its gaze upward. A very large dragon flew through the canyon, silhouetted against the narrow slit of sky above them. It flew much lower than the one they had seen before did, and they heard its roar shake through the canyon. A second one, slightly smaller, flew close behind it.

“See?” Karendle said, “ Nothing goes right on bridges.”

<<<>>>

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200 - “Arrival” - Korr - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

“There’s something different on the mountain today,” Karendle wondered.

Korr looked up into the clear mid-morning sky. The sun was rising slowly higher, reflecting off the snowy mountainside as they trudged slowly up the winding path. He turned around to her. The others followed the trail behind them in a line. “I believe it seems a little warmer.”

Karendle paused her steps and sniffed with her nose in the air. “Something smells a bit odd, too.” Korr pulled down the scarf that he had wrapped across his sunburned face. He breathed in the air, trying to determine what he was also smelling. It had a slightly acidic edge, unlike the sweet clearness that had so far surrounded them from day to day in the mountain.

“That’s probably just Eddiwarth’s breakfast coming back to haunt him.” Parith called out from a little farther back on the trail.

“That’s not me!” Eddiwarth protested. Thissraelle laughed.

“That’s it!” Karendle exclaimed. “You’re limited to only three pieces of jerky tonight.”

While they stood resting for a moment, Korr surveyed the path ahead. He looked up the steady slope of the snowy rock above them. Just a bit beyond where they stood was a turn, inward, into a large crevice in the mountainside. It looked to Korr as if some long forgotten half-god had grabbed the peak and split it in half all the way down to the foothills. He adjusted his pack and moved forward again.

"Is that what I think it is?" Thissraelle's voice drifted forward.

Korr turned around to explain the canyon and the path up ahead and saw Thissraelle and Eddiwarth looking high up the side of the mountain, pointing. "I think it is..." she murmured.

"We might want to get to cover, quick." Eddiwarth added. The drakeling hissed.

Korr followed their eyes. Way up in the cloudless sky, not too far from the peak of the mountain, a large dark bird circled. No, that’s too big for a bird, isn’t it? He squinted and shaded his eyes with his hand. No! It’s..

“A dragon!” Karendle shouted. “See? I told you!”

“This way!” Korr balanced his pack and lifted his snowshoed feet in a vain attempt to run. It momentarily threw him off balance, so he paused and centered himself low, then began lurching forward more methodically. He could hear the others hurrying behind him.

“Do dragons have good eyesight?” Eddiwarth wondered between his heavy breaths. It didn’t take them long to get to the canyon and follow the path inward. The mountain slopes up to the peaks on either side of the canyon were much steeper, almost like walls, and there were a lot of jagged outcroppings overhead. They all pressed against the canyon wall beside the path to take advantage of the cover and the shade.

Korr felt an odd breeze blowing across his face. Why is it warm? No—it’s not really warm. It’s just less cold.  He sniffed. And this is where that smell is coming from. 

The canyon crevice was not too wide, maybe only an arrow shot across at its narrowest. The sunshine illuminated the rocks on both sides, but not directly, instead reflecting down off of craggy outcroppings of stone frosted in snow. He stepped to the side of the path and leaned over the drop. It wasn’t as deep as he’d expected. At least, it seemed that way. A dozen or so yards down there was a dense haze of fog. He could hear running water a little farther below that.

Suddenly remembering the dragon, he glanced up and saw only sky above the crack. He nodded to the others and they all continued down the path.

The canyon and the path zigzagged several times as they moved onward, inward, and slightly upward. The snowpack on the ledge became gradually thinner and more dense as the air around them continued to warm slightly. The sound of running water became steadily louder as well. Parith kept an uneasy eye upward, but each time he looked saw only rocks, snow, and sky.

After a time, Korr, still in the lead, came to yet another bending zag in the canyon wall and turned the corner.  He froze for a moment, unable to speak or even think clearly.  Finally, he gathered his wits and stepped aside. “I think we have arrived.” He gestured for his friends to pass him.

The canyon opened up into a wider hollow. Ahead of them the far side was layered with many flat pools of hot, bubbling, steaming, blue and green water. Each pool overflowed in a sparkling waterfall down onto the staggered terraces of pools below it. Along the side of each waterfall was a cascade of long crystalline icicles where droplets had splashed to the side and been frozen to the rocks. Next to one of the larger pools just slightly below their level was a large and ornate stone porch protruding from the mountain. It jutted out a good twenty feet and was at least that wide. The ornate shaping of the pillars and the roof showed that it was obviously not naturally formed. It’s farthest edge was the steaming and burping pool itself, and the other faces were protected by a silver railing between the stone posts at each corner.

From the longest side of the porch a wide and gently sloping stonework bridge crossed the canyon gap over a latticework of stone arches whose feet stretched down into the fog. The bridge was wide enough for many people to walk side by side, and edged by a railing with tall columns every twenty feet or so, pointing up into the air. The bridge reached a similar, but smaller terrace on the near side of the canyon, and the path they were all on led up to it.

“I believe,” Korr said to his awestruck companions, “that we have found the shrine.”

<<<>>>

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199 - “Sorry Enough” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

The moon was much lower in the western sky as Thissraelle fought sleep. She had long since left the ledge path and returned to sitting by the fading warmth of the stone near her sleeping friends. The little drake had climbed up in her lap, and curled itself under her blanket. Only its head and one claw stuck out of the gap and draped on her knee. Occasionally, between sips of brew, she scratched its head and ears.

“I guess you two are friends, now.” Parith said quietly, but still surprising her.

“Oh! I didn’t hear you get up. Is it your watch already?”

Parith poured himself a cup from the bowl. “Pffah! That was a lot better when it was warmer.”

“Marginally.” Thissraelle laughed. “Let’s have Eddiwarth take the middle watch tomorrow night so he can reheat the rock.”

Parith sat down. “Good idea.” He sipped. “Anything happen?”

“Yeah. I was attacked by humongous slobbering mountain goat bear devil monsters.”

“I hate it when that happens.” He groaned with ache as he sat down.

“But don’t worry. Drakie protected us.” It raised its head, hearing its name. “Didn’t you?” Thissraelle crooned, scratching him.

They sat quietly in the breezeless dark of the predawn. Parith slurped his brew. “You know, your watch is over. You can go back to sleep.”

She sat, silent, staring into the dark around them. From behind, Eddiwarth started snoring again. Parith turned to look for a moment, then returned his gaze forward. He breathed in to speak when Thissraelle interrupted.

“When I was a little girl, in the Guild Hall, I had school, of a sort. My dad taught me magic. My mom was very traditional and proper and taught me social interactions. My tutors taught me to read, and to add, and all about history and the world and things.”

Parith looked at her with his eyebrows raised. She shifted, raising her knees up to her chest. The drake tumbled off her lap onto the snow and hissed a complaint before it crept over to Parith.

“There was a time in our history when the world of Wynne was ruled by the Great Mage Kings of Emberfire. Our great sages and kings and generals made tales and songs of noble deeds and heroic exploration and conquest. I can still sing some of them. There was a great era of study and learning. Peace flourished throughout the world and civilization bloomed.” Her voice was as a proclamation, but with an edge of sadness.

Parith didn’t react just yet.

“Or so I was taught.” She shook her hair out of her eyes. “Then, a few days ago, I had the chance to meet with the wood elf sages and scholars in TreeHaven. They were wonderful, helpful, and very friendly, especially considering I’m a high elf. They told me some about Giatrice - Heathrax - and how to go looking for this shrine. I showed them his poems, and they were excited to see them.

“They also told me about the rule of the Kings of Emberfire from the perspective of the wood elves of Umbrawood. It was a very different story. They told tales of conquest and oppression. They sang songs of slavery, of bravery in resistance and of warriors fighting for freedom. I was always taught that wood elves hated us, but nobody had ever explained why. Nobody ever needed to.”

Thissraelle wanted to look at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact. She could feel him staring into her, though, and wondered what he was thinking. From behind, Eddiwarth grunted and snorted. That at least helped her to smile for a moment.

“Things have changed a lot for me this last year. I’ve been places I didn’t know existed, and I’ve seen people and things that I couldn’t have ever imagined. One thing I know for certain now is that there is a lot in this world that I don’t know.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what to do with this new understanding, either. Should I apologize? I never enslaved anyone. I never conquered anyone. But my people did. And I see now how that has shaped my view.”

She leaned back and wiped her eyes. Finally, she glanced over at Parith, and saw him nodding with a slight frown.

He looked down for a moment, then back up at her. “There are a lot of things going on that neither of us really like. Things inside us both. I guess we should each apologize, just for ourselves, for our own thoughts. We have no control beyond that, right?”

She nodded, and smiled. “So, are WE friends, now?”

“Yes. We are.” He smiled back. She stood up.

Parith said, in a reassuring tone, “Now get to sleep.”

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
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198 - “Blessed Steps” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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“Thissraelle...”

“Thissraelle,” the voice whispered again. Someone shook her gently. She felt the cold air of the night on her face and opened her eyes. Karendle hovered over her. “Sorry, sis. It’s your turn for watch.”

Thissraelle nodded and yawned. Her cheeks were warm and a bit painful. She reached up out of her blanket and touched them gingerly. Karendle leaned back. “Yeah. Sunburn. Funny, huh? In the dead of winter, even.”

Karendle unwrapped her blanket from her shoulders and spread it on the snowpad in the space next to Thissraelle. “There’s some brew in the bowl on the stone. It’s not as hot as it was earlier, but it’s still good.” She sat down on the blanket then lay flat and pulled the other half over her. She shifted a few times underneath before lying still.

Thissraelle got up and wrapped herself in her own blanket. She stood by the warm rock for a few minutes, trying to encourage her mind to become alert. The night seemed very bright, even as late as it was. She shook out her cup and poured some brew from the bowl. She sipped and made a face. Ukhgh! Still good? Ow! Making faces hurt. OK, I’m awake, now.

She stood for a moment, sipping from the cup. The moonlight seemed to draw her away and she stepped carefully over the trampled snow to the edge of the rock overhang. She followed a little of yesterday’s path and came out onto a ledge, catching her breath. The full moon hung bright in the sky, illuminating the snow all around with a ghostly silver glow. Far below, she saw the deep expanse of the Umbrawood Forest, a lumpy sea of brown and white. They were not even a third of the way up the side of the mountain, but she could see mile after beautiful mile away. Above her was a clear sky of stars. Many were overpowered by the brightness of the moon, but there were still innumerable others that shone brilliantly through. The expansive void above her reminded her of The Vast. She smiled and sighed.

...Vast are the works of His creation. The words Korr had cited rolled through her mind.

In moments like this, I feel lucky. 

She felt something twist tightly around her leg and boot. Surprised, she jumped and flipped her blanket open. Parith’s little drake had wrapped its tail and body around her right leg. It squawked twice and looked up at her with big, expectant eyes. Then, it rubbed its head softly against her knee and trilled.

Thissraelle blew out a misty breath of relief and squatted down to skritch its head. It closed its eyes and pressed back against her hand with a contented thrumm. It looked back up at her and turned its head one way, then the other.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything...” she paused, remembering, “Oh, wait.” She stood so she could reach the pocket in her leggings. She fumbled for a moment and pulled out a piece of jerky. “Here you go!” She stooped again and held it out for him, and he gobbled it immediately.

So, why do I feel lucky? This has been a very hard time for me. I’ve got people chasing me, wanting to kill me, capture me, or use me, and I’m not even sure where I’m going. She stood.

But what did I expect? I left a nice, comfortable home because, well, I wanted to see things. I wanted to get out. And here I am. Out. If I had stayed, I would have never seen this beauty that’s before me now. I would never have found friends like these, like DeFrantis or Granthurg. I would have never found Eddiwarth.

I’m a much better wizard, now. I can do more things, and I know more of when and how to use it, not just what tricks I can do. It’s a big world, with big players, and I’m just starting to see a place in it.

She took another drink of the horrid brew.

I’m not lucky. I’m blessed.

The Creator has blessed my steps.

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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197 - “A Stroll Up the Mountain” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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Thissraelle had heard stories from her parents about snows this deep in the mountains, but by her memories of Twynne Rivers, anything higher than her ankles was a harsh winter. Now, here, on the path up the mountainside, she found herself slogging through snow banks that could have literally swallowed her up were it not for the webbed snowshoes the wood elves had given them. Though they kept her from sinking deep, they were big and awkward and they made her walk with a wide waddle. She had to heft her knees up high with each step just to keep moving forward.

Korr was marching in front of her, a huge pack on his back. He had been willing to carry the larger of the team’s packs. The smaller one, which was still quite large, was swapped back and forth between Parith and Eddiwarth. Karendle and Thissraelle had volunteered for a turn but Eddiwarth wouldn’t allow it. Thissraelle also noticed that Parith’s cloak had some rather large holes in it. She wondered how they had come to be, then laughed as she noticed the drake gnawing on the folds of his hood as it sat comfortably on Parith’s shoulder.

The sun was bright and almost blinding as it reflected off the white snow on the rocks around them. Every so often, Thissraelle would turn her eyes from the path ahead and look out over the forest stretched out below the slopes. Each time, the view was deeper and further below.

They had left TreeHaven three days before. Illariel had been eager to guide them to the foothills of the mountain. Three elven scouts of the garrison had been assigned to accompany them, presumably for their protection, though Parith had grumbled that they were there to make sure the party actually left the forest.

It had been hard for Thissraelle to part with Illariel. They had become good friends during their time in TreeHaven, and they had laughed together as they had dashed through the tree branches on the way through Umbrawood to the mountain path. It had been difficult for Thissraelle at first to gain her balance on the snowy branches, but she adapted, and soon was moving quickly along. Korr and Karendle had struggled to keep up. Finally, the forest ended in the lower hills of the mountainside, and Illariel had said goodbye with a hug.

The day’s struggle trudging along the winding path up the mountainside wore long. They came to a spot with a flat space under an overhang of rock. As the sun dimmed low over the horizon far off to the right, they set up their encampment. The muscles in Thissraelle’s legs and hips hurt in ways she had never thought possible. Karendle used her oculus to call up a large stone a few feet around, and Eddiwarth heated it with magical fires until it radiated warmth all around them. They each rolled out their thick and soft elven blankets, folded over once. They sat on the blankets facing the warming stone as the darkness fell, eating crusts and dried meats from their pack. A small bowl on the stone was melting snow and heating the water for them to make a dark brew.

“This is exhausting.” Parith took a bite of bread, as he looked at Thissraelle. “Let me ask: If you can open portals and flip through The Vast, from one place to the next, why are we walking? Why not just flash through a portal? We’d be at the shrine, bing!”

The look on other’s faces showed that they’d been wondering about this as well.

Thissraelle sighed, “The Vast is pretty unpredictable, and it’s not always stable. If you don’t have a clear vision of where you’re going or who you’re trying to catch up with, there’s no telling where you could end up. Some places, like the Seeker’s temple, have been made stable by the mages that live there. The portals there and back are well-established. That’s why we had to come back out of the Vast into Twynne Rivers, right by the old cathedral.”

She thought for a minute. “In the forest, when I blinked away from the fight, I was in a panic and completely unfocused. I was pretty lucky, really. I ended up hung up in a tree a few miles away. I might have easily ended up thousands of miles away, or even up in the air, falling out of a cloud. I could have gotten swept away in a Vast storm, or lost forever. Unless you know where you’re going, it’s very risky.

“Dimensional wizards with a lot of experience and deep pools of will can drive their way through and find the right moments of exit back into The Great Reality.” She dropped her gaze. “But I’m not that good at it yet.”

They ate more, trying to shiver off the awkwardness of the moment. Eddiwarth looked at the other’s tired and worn faces, coughed, and mused, “I’ve been thinking a bit about this Heathrax guy. I’m trying to figure out how old he would be. From the sounds of those legends, they were hundreds of years old.”

Parith nodded. “He’s probably dead.”

“Could be,” thought Eddiwarth. “Maybe we’ll find his descendents.”

“My master,” Korr said, “when he gave me the task, told me to find his friend and give him greetings. While it could be that this shrine is his memorial, and my instructions are to leave greetings there, the more sure implication is that Heathrax himself is still alive.”

Korr reached for the bowl, then wondered, “He could be elven. How long do elves live?”

Thissraelle settled back on her arms and uncrossed her legs, stretching them out before her. The motion both hurt and felt good. She leaned over to rest her head on Eddiwarth’s shoulder. “There are some family lines of high elven royalty that have lived that long, I’m told. Most of us don’t. What about the wood elves?”

“I don’t know.” Parith shrugged. “A hundred, maybe a hundred-fifty. More than most humans, but not by that much.”

Karendle added, “Maybe someone could have used magic to live longer. Or been turned into a tree or something.”

“There’s a point we’re all kind of missing, here.” Karendle blurted out, “Are we killing ourselves to climb a mountain named ‘Dragonspine’ to look for a guy named ‘Dragonfriend’ and not expecting to find dragons? I mean, DRAGONS, people. We fought drakes at the cathedral and that was bad enough. I’m not so sure I want to meet a full dragon. Maybe Heathrax is a dragon’s friend, but that doesn’t mean WE are.”

Their discussion was interrupted by a high-pitched hacking and coughing sound. Thissraelle looked to her left, away from the warming stone, and saw the small drake sitting in the snow. Its tummy shook and its snaking neck heaved in waves toward its wide open mouth. It lurched once, then again, and with a loud hack, hurked a thick blob out of its mouth that burst into flame the moment it hit the open air. It splattered out of its mouth onto the snow where it sizzled and melted until it steamed itself out. The drake hissed and spit a few more small smoking droplets, then shook its head from side to side and licked its nose with its smoldering tongue.

The party all looked on with surprise. The drake finally stopped coughing and looked back at them all, cocking his head to one side with a questioning gaze and trilling.

“Well.” Parith said, “He’s never done that before.”

“Let’s...ah...” Thissraelle added, eyes wide, “let’s keep him away from the blankets.”

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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Start the whole story from the beginning. Start from where this current story arc begins. Start from where the current story part begins