Dream - Chapter 33

- - - - -

Race: Saurian

Bloodline Powers: Strength, Rending, Emberbreath
Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 3
Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Good Air 4, Embers 4, Pressure 3, Current/Flow 3

- - - - -

It took a second for Samazzar to slap his jaw shut.  He closed his eyes, turning out the hovering man and focused on the flames around him.

The human was right.  Already, a good portion of the prairie was burning brightly.  Sam and his siblings weren’t at risk because the flames had already burned all of the grass in their immediate surroundings, but there was no telling how much damage the inferno would do if he let it burn uncontrolled.

Reaching out with his tired mind, Samazzar froze the flames.  Only by turning everything out was he able to seize control of all of them at the same time.  Almost immediately, Sam felt the beginnings of a headache take hold as he strained himself.

As soon as he had control over the wildfire, he froze the flames, holding them in place and letting the fire consume all of the available fuel before dying out on its own.  Finally, he relaxed his grip as the last of the fire burned out, opening his eyes to see the flying human land in front of him.

Dussok glared at the man, hostility filling every inch of his body as the human walked past Sam and knelt next to the animal he’d killed.  The man reached down and touched two fingers to the hole in the creature’s side before looking up appraisingly at Samazzar.

Behind him, a woman wearing a similar green robe, only with much less purple ran through the smoldering and ash filled landscape toward them.  In the distance on either side of their cluster were a number of humans stop horses wearing metal armor and wielding an assortment of weapons.  Some of the armored humans were dismounting and drawing knives as they began skinning the dead animals and collecting their horns.  The remaining handful of riders turned their horses around and began trotting toward Samazzar’s group.

“The name is Pothas,” the human said jovially, stroking his neatly trimmed and graying beard as he turned to address Samazzar.  It was clear that he noticed Dussok’s hostility, but that didn’t stop him from turning his back on the glowering but injured saurian.  “I’m a senior instructor from the Vereton academy on a field exercise with my apprentice and a number of city guardsmen.  The goal was to use combat with the blade strider herd to teach them the minor mystery of speed so that they could develop into practitioners of the base mysteries of slashing or piercing.”

Sam blinked at the older man.  He understood every word the human was saying, but he had no context to place anything.  It was simply an impossible to parse collection of syllables the second he tried to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

“I have to apologize for you getting caught in the stampede once we began our attack,” Pothas continued apologetically.  “I didn’t know that there was anyone on the plains, let alone a practitioner.  This area is usually the domain of monsters and bandits, meaning it’s usually safe for us to take field expeditions out here to gain a little experience.”

“I don’t understand,” Samazzar replied.  “I’m not from around here, and I could barely assign meaning to every fifth word you just said.”

“Of course,” Pothas responded, smacking his forehead with an open palm.  “I should have picked up on that from your markings.  The three of you don’t look like you’re from any of the nearby saurian tribes.”

“Vereton is a city-state that rules over a fairly large swath of land,” Pothas said, voice and posture stiffening as he began what sounded like a memorized lecture.  “While technically a city-state, Vereton’s patrician actually rules over a fairly expansive network of communities that gather resources, farm, and produce finished goods for sale.  Vereton serves as this region’s cultural, economic and military hub, and although many of the towns and villages are technically independent, their economies and defense are so closely linked to Vereton that the distinction is almost meaningless.”

“Defense in particular is a major concern,” he continued, back straight and hands clasped behind him.  “Much of the territory Vereton claims dominion over represents the absolute borders of civilization, and those borders are not clearly defined.  Bandits, barbarian raiders, and feral merchants that may as well be bandits abound in these lawless regions.”

“That is why Vereton boasts a formidable military.  Between its citizen militias, city guard, knight corps, and mercenary affiliates, many larger powers have been dealt a defeat at the hands of its armed forces.  After all, if one wishes to be a beacon of light in the darkness, it is important to have the power to protect the light from the encroaching darkness.”

Before Samazzar could reply, the robed woman arrived, panting for breath.  Now that she was closer, Sam could see that she was tall, only a little bit shorter than Dussok, with long naturally gray hair and an eye-patch covering her left eye.  She shot him an inquisitive look before glaring at Pothas.

“Master,” she hissed unhappily.  “You were supposed to be supervising the knights’ training and keeping them safe from the blade striders.  Captain Jamise was livid.  You’re going to get an earful when he gets back.”

“Let him complain,” Pothas responded flippantly, “I prevented half of his unit from being consumed in a raging prairie fire by securing the cooperation of my new friend here.”

“Say.”  He cocked his head, squinting at Samazzar.  “I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

“Samazzar, but I also go by Sam,” he replied, shooting the older man a toothy grin.

“Very good, Sam,” Pothas said, pronouncing the word slowly as if he were trying it out.  “Well, Rose, Sam here is a fire practitioner.  Only a student if I had my guess, but he was the one that got the fire under control.  Without him, my only option would be to try and rob the inferno of oxygen, an effective but much slower prospect.  His help likely saved lives today.”

“Did you bother to inquire why he was out here?”  The woman asked crossly.  “The Lossak plains aren’t exactly known for being populated.  We’re in the realm of goblins, orcs, and bandits.  This isn’t a place that people casually wander into.  Anyone traveling through the plains has a reason to be here, and half the time that reason is that they have a death mark hanging over their head in more civilized ports.”

The thump of hooves on soft soil stole away Pothas’ response.  Five humans on horses galloped up, four males and one female.  The figure in the lead was wearing silver armor made of interlocking plates.  Atop his head sat a gleaming helmet, visor up to reveal a frowning face and a pair of stern, piercing blue eyes.

The other four riders wore plates of metal over their chests.  Their arms and thighs were blanketed in layers of woven metal rings that jingled as they approached.  The three men had swords at their hips, but the woman held what looked like a spear with a metal shaft slotted into some sort of apparatus built into her saddle.

“Pothas!” The heavily armored leader shouted angrily, jerking his reins to the side to guide his horse next to the old man.  “By the patrician’s beard, you had better have a good explanation for running off like you did.  Amelia and Richard got cut fairly badly by one of the blade striders.  If I hadn’t been on hand to intervene with my squires, we might have lost someone.”

“And I saved more, Jamise” the bearded man sniped back.  “I’m not sure you noticed the out of control wildfire that was threatening your riders, but when you didn’t call them back, I took matters into my own hands.  I could sense that my new friend Sam was working magic, and it was his assistance that put the flames out before they could consume any of your recruits.”

The mounted man shifted his glare to Samazzar, staring the saurian down before shifting his gaze to Takkla and Dussok.  Finally, he snorted, focusing his attention on Pothas once more.

“And who are these… things,” Jamise spat the words out.  “You abandoned formation to seek out a trio of scaled barbarians in the middle of a hunt.  Two of my recruits were injured, and you were not in position to assist them.  You can be sure that my brother, the Patrician’s advisor on the ceramic and pottery trade will hear about your actions here today.”

“You can issue your report if you want, captain,” Pothas replied, stressing the man’s rank.  “Please be sure to include the part where you disobeyed my direct order to call back your riders once we spotted the flames.  A prairie fire is no small obstacle, and your entire command could have perished today.  Need I remind you that I was put in charge of this learning exercise?  You can question my actions once you admit that they were only necessary due to your insubordination.”

“But we had the blade striders on the run,” the armored man retorted, “calling off the chase when you gave warning would have delayed the entire exercise for weeks.  The animals would have sensed that we were coming and fled before we could strike again.  It would have been a tremendous waste of time and resources to coordinate another hunt so that we could blood the new recruits.”

Pothas didn’t reply, simply raising a single eyebrow and crossing his arms.  Jamise withered under his gaze, looking away after ten seconds of tense silence.

Without a word, he flicked his reins.  His horse cantered in a tight circle before the armored man led it away, his supporters following him in silence.  Pothas watched him go, sighing and shaking his head once the riders were out of hearing range.

“A pity,” he said quietly, flashing a sad smile.  “Jamise was one of my more promising students.  He didn’t have the skill or the discipline to become a proper practitioner, but he was quite talented at integrating the mysteries into physical combat.  Once he became an officer and took his second elixir, everything changed.  Suddenly he was too arrogant and preoccupied to talk to the old man that had trained him in the mysteries.”

“He will make trouble for you,” the robed woman replied.  “Captain Jamise won’t shut up about that super important brother of his.  He has too much of an ego to take a dressing down like that without turning it into a full blown scandal.”

“He can try, Rose,” Pothas responded, patting the woman gently on the shoulder.  “But for now, I’d prefer to focus on our new friends.”

“Sam,” Pothas said with a smile.  “I guessed earlier that you were a student of the noble mystery of fire, was I accurate?”

Samazzar looked to his siblings.  Dussok was still on edge, jaw tight as his eyes flickered back and forth between the two humans.  Takkla made eye contact with Sam and nodded.  A half second later, Dussok relented, forcefully blowing out a lungful of air before nodding himself.

“Yes,” Samazzar agreed.  “Dussok and Takkla are a baptism short of completing their lesser mysteries, but I’ve gone through three baptisms in the mystery of fire.”

“More importantly,” Pothas continued, winking slyly at Samazzar.  “I thought I caught hints of you using the mysteries of oxygen, pressure and flow during your fight.  In fact, unless I miss my mark, you’re ready for a baptism in all three of them.”

“Oxygen?”  Sam asked, glancing at Dussok and Takkla.  Takkla only shrugged, prompting him to look back at Pothas and cock his head.

The human scratched his beard thoughtfully while the female standing to his side crossed her arms impatiently.

“Maybe you use a different word for it,” he mused aloud.  “It’s not the name of the mystery that counts, just the fundamental understanding of what it is on a deep, almost spiritual level.  Oxygen for example is the part of the air that people breathe in, it’s what powers our bodies.”

“Good air!” Sam cut in, eyes lighting up.  “I’ve gone through my fourth baptism with good air, it’s one of the necessary elements for learning the mystery of fire.”

“That would make sense.”  Pothas slapped a closed fist into his open palm.  “Oxygen is an important part of combustion.  I’m not terribly familiar with the lesser mysteries used by fire practitioners, but it would only be logical for oxygen to be one of the keys.”

“Sam,” he continued.  “You are on the cusp of learning the noble mystery of wind.  I’m sure you can feel it, like something that’s just out of your grasp.  You know its there, and you know it’s important, but when you reach out to hold it, it just slips through your fingers-”

He paused, looking at Samazzar’s hands for a moment before letting out an embarrassed cough.

“- claws.”  Pothas shook his head.  “Regardless, you look like a young individual.  Not many people are on the cusp of learning two noble mysteries in their late teens.  You have a lot of potential in you Sam.  It would be a shame to waste that without the guidance of a proper master.”

“But I’m not in my teens?”  Samazzar asked, shooting a confused glance toward Takkla.

Pothas’ face fell slightly, but he recovered almost immediately.

“That’s fine,” the human replied.  “Most saurians live until they’re almost two hundred years old.  It only makes sense if you develop a little slower than humans.  Two noble mysteries in your early twenties will still make you a prodigy.”

“No,” Dussok rumbled.  “The three of us were born near the beginning of last winter.  I suspect that makes us almost a year old.  We haven’t been keeping track of the days, but there is no snow on the ground yet so it seems to be a fair guess.”

“By the fallen gods,” Pothas’ eyes widened. “That’s impossible unless-”

He lunged forward, grabbing Samazzar by the shoulders, looking closely at his scales while mumbling to himself.

“Of course, the markings.  It’s so obvious.”

Behind him, the woman cleared her throat, uncrossing her arms as she walked up behind the rambling man and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Master,” she began, speaking softly as she shook the older man.  “These individuals are complete strangers.  I think you’re beginning to worry them.”

Pothas jerked his head upward, a manic grin pasted across his face as he released Samazzar.  He clasped his hands together, clenching them tightly as he danced backward.

“Sam,” the old man practically cackled, “why don’t you tell my apprentice Rose what species you were born as.  After all, you weren’t born as a Saurian, were you?”

Sam looked at Dussok.  His sibling opened his mouth to respond, and then caught himself.  He locked eyes with Sam, asking an unspoken question which Samazzar responded to with a slight incline of his head.

Sam wasn’t entirely sure whether he could trust the strange human, but at least for the time-being, he didn’t seem to be hostile.  Rather, he was staring at him with the undisguised glee of a goblin that had just found a scrap of pork while digging through a midden pit.

“We were born kobolds,” Dussok replied.  “Samazzar has some sort of convoluted plan to raise our bloodlines in between forcing us to learn magic.  None of us have the knack for the mysteries that he does, but Takkla and I have been muddling our way forward, following in Sam’s clawprints.”

“Kobolds,” Pothas said breathily, a mad grin on his face.

“Master,” Rose hissed, shaking him by his shoulder.  “I know where this is going, and you’re going to get in trouble again.  Think of what the chancellor will say.  You know that you aren’t allowed to take on apprentices without enrolling them in the academy as students first.”

His face fell for a moment.  Then, his smile shifted to a devious smirk.

“Sam,” the old man said slyly.  “How would you like to join the Vereton Academy?  There will be tuition costs, but an individual of your skill can earn those back easily by performing tasks that benefit the city.  The academy might not have a fire master, but I have reached the level of being a scholar in the noble mystery of wind.  If you and your friends joined, I would be happy to tutor a student as talented as you.  As for fire?  I’m sure I could get you a pass to access the Academy’s library so long as you could afford the fees.  You won’t need to mess around in the general education program.”

“Tell me about this library,” Samazzar responded, eyes twinkling.  “Does it have a section on alchemy?  Perhaps a bestiary?  I’d love to learn more about-”

“Samazzar,” Takkla cut him off.  “We need to get back to the caves.  Remember, Crone Tazzaera is counting on you.  She wasn’t in good shape when we left, and who knows how things have developed in the meantime.  It’s not like she’s among friends right now.”

He sighed.  Takkla was right.  As enticing as the idea of a skilled magic instructor and access to a full library was, Tazzaera was important.  Really, she was the only family that the three of them had.  A dragon didn’t abandon family, no matter what treasure they were promised.

“I’m sorry,” Sam replied to the humans.  “I can’t say that I’m not tempted, but Crone Tazzaera needs our help.  She was sick when we left, and we’re currently hurrying back with the ingredients I will need to brew a potion that can treat her.  Maybe once she’s safe I can investigate your school, but I can’t go right now.”

“Who is this Tazzaera anyway?”  Pothas asked.  “I’m sure we could find a place for her in Vereton.  If she’s not happy with her current situation, she should just move to the city with you.  Vereton is a home to a hundred different races, all living together in harmony.”

“Harmony?”  Rose snorted.  “The Patrician doesn’t care what you do or who you are so long as you don’t create disorder and pay your taxes on time.  I’d call it productive chaos at best.”

“There you have it,” Pothas said with a grin.  “Productive chaos.  Nobody in Vereton is going to care about the color of your scales, just whether you have or can help them earn coin.  Most importantly, Sam, a boy of your talents will have plenty of opportunities to earn money.  Just study under me for a year or ten and you’ll be one of the strongest wind magi in the North.”

“Tazzaera is the person that raised and trained us,” Takkla supplied.  “She’s a fire magi, but the tribe has been treating her poorly for political reasons.  I’m sure she would like to get out of the caves as well so long as we had a place to bring her.”

Samazzar nodded slowly, taking in Takkla’s words. He turned and locked eyes with Dussok.

“Fire magi?”  Pothas inquired.  “Not many who study that noble mystery survive long enough to become magi.  Most of them manage to burn themselves to death during their baptisms.  If your friend is a fire magi, I’m sure I could get her a job as an adjunct professor at the Academy.  It won’t make her rich, but it is certainly a comfortable living.”

“The choice is yours, little dragon,” Dussok said, responding to Sam’s unspoken question.  “If you think that this is the best course, then I will follow your lead.  You were right when you said that the caves would never be our home again.  Maybe human lands are the better choice.”

Samazzar turned, rotating to face the old magi once more.  He extended a claw, a smile on his muzzle.

“Once we’ve stabilized the Crone, we will come to your city and seek you out.”

“Perfect!” Pathos replied, seizing Samazzar’s clawed hand in his own.  “Now how about a little gift to cement our new friendship.  You’re on the cusp of breaking through and learning the secrets of the wind.  I’d be honored to guide you on the last few steps of your journey.”