“Mission accomplished!”
A resounding cheer traveled across the Shagornan Elf crew of the Unsinkable III.
“You found her?” Archmage Havelock exclaimed, running up to My‑re and Vomarian when they climbed aboard the ship.
“Short answer: yes. Slightly longer answer, kind of, well no,” My‑re yelled over the din of the elven cheering.
Due to the noise, Havelock looked behind her, brought his head to hers, and asked, “Where are the mere dragons?”
“The short answer is we lost them. They sped off toward the Twisted Lands,” My‑re answered.
“So, all three mere dragons are gone? First selling Koma to Khan Karameikos, and now Kata and Kuki heading to the Twisted Lands?” A confused brow furrowed across Havelock’s forehead. He motioned for her and Vomarian to follow him into the captain’s quarters.
“Prepare the ship for takeoff! Break out the wine! The elven wine, the good stuff! For today, we celebrate!” Vomarian yelled to his cheering crew.
Closing the door, which muffled the sound, Havelock motioned with his hands for them to explain.
“There were several accounts of Araminth’s passing,” My‑re said, and when Havelock opened his mount to speak, she quickly continued, “But we did our due diligence and followed up.”
Vomarian added. “We found Araminth’s lover Westwind in Shadowspire. He explained she died from plains fever sometime back and is buried in the middle of a river. My‑re then stole-”
“Procured,” My‑re interrupted.
Vomarian clarified, nodding to her, “Procured an article of Araminth’s clothing. Then we used Kata and Kuki to track the scent to her real grave on a hilltop.”
“Real grave?” Havelock questioned.
“There was a headstone with ‘AG’ on it,” My‑re said. “For Araminth Goldeneye.”
Vomarian continued, “Yes, we then dug it up.”
“I didn’t disturb any grave,” My‑re commented, making a holy benediction.
Nodding in the affirmative, Vomarian said, “And the bones of an adolescent dragon were there.”
“I expected human bones,” My‑re said.
“Why? Araminth is a dragon that can change into human form. From your standpoint, I guess it is just easier to think she is a human that can change to a dragon,” Havelock rationalized. “However, I thought you said she was buried in a river?”
“Westwind lied,” Vomarian said, shrugging. “I don’t know the reason.”
“Maybe he knew the value alchemists placed on dragon remains and did not wish tomb robbers to know where she was buried,” Havelock commented. “If Westwind were here, I would ask him.”
A Shagornan Elf knocked on the door and opened it, “Captain, you won’t believe it. Koma just climbed onto the ship with a wounded human. He said his name’s Westwind.”
“Westwind?” My‑re questioned. “What’s he doing here?”
“Yes, and he’s asking for My‑re.”
They all rushed out of the cabin, where they saw the Shagornan Elves helping Westwind off from Koma. Both had blood down their fronts. Westwind’s right arm hung limp, with his shoulder gravely injured.
“Retrieve a healing potion from my room!” Havelock yelled, pointing to one of the elves who hurried off.
Approaching, My‑re heard Westwind say over and over in a delusional state, “He has her. He has her.”
Koma then hobbled toward My‑re, sniffed her feet, and, with what appeared to be a smile inch across its face, laid down.
Approaching Westwind, My‑re cringed at the sight of his arm and the swollen black-and-blue face. It looked like a maul had smacked him. “Oh, what did they do to your pretty face? Where’s that healing potion!” An elf returned with a bottle. She uncorked it, sniffed the sour and bitter-smelling contents, and helped Westwind drink. His face scrunched at the taste, which brought a knowing chuckle from her from drinking them after battles in the arena.
Westwind lamented, “Ow! My shoulder and arm are getting unpleasantly hot.”
“Good, that means it’s working. The potion isn’t strong enough to heal you completely, so you’ll need about two weeks rest. Get his arm bandaged,” My‑re ordered. She then went to Koma and dripped the bottle’s contents from the side of its mouth. The mere dragon lapped it up. Upon registering the taste, it issued a growl deep within its throat. However, after a moment, it stopped, breathed a sigh of relief, laid its head on the deck, and closed its eyes.
As the Shagornan Elves bandaged Westwind’s arm, he said, “Varick has her.”
“Wait, you said Varick?” My‑re asked, wanting confirmation.
“Yes. He was chained, so it seemed he escaped from prison,” Westwind said.
My‑re thought it couldn’t be the same Varick she was imprisoned with as a child during the Rirorni War.
“He knew you, My‑re,” Westwind said.
“By the nine hells, it’s Varick. That’s great news.”
“No, not great news. He has a serious grudge against you. He used Koma to track you, which I then did to find you and Vomarian. I need your help. He took Araminth,” Westwind explained.
“Whoa, you said Araminth was dead. You lied to us,” My‑re exclaimed.
“No, I said she passed, which is open to interpretation.”
Rolling her eyes. “You said she was buried in the middle of the river.”
“She will be when the time comes. That’s where she wanted to be laid to rest.”
“Wait, we found her resting spot on a hill outside Shadowspire with the gravestone ‘AG.’ Explain that?” My‑re questioned. “It was right before the mere dragons Kata and Kuki took off westwards toward the Twisted Lands.”
“AG? Agnus? That’s Araminth’s old mere dragon she had as a little drake. Araminth called her AG for short,” Westwind explained. “We buried her there on the hill with some of Araminth’s things. Now, specifically, tell me what those two mere dragons did again?”
“Once we uncovered AG’s spot, they took the piece of clothing I procured from your shop. Uh, sorry about that. They bellowed out their terrible screech for what seemed an eternity and headed straight west.”
“A death howl. That’s not good. You said Kata and Kuki traveled west toward the Twisted Lands, not south toward the Drakenfell Mountains on the Ratan border. That’s not good for any of us,” Westwind said, shaking his head.
“Why?” Vomarian asked.
“Koma is from Araminth’s family, who live in the Drakenfell Mountains to the south. However, I don’t recognize the names Kata and Kuki. If they were traveling west toward the Twisted Lands, they must be from the main dragon community,” Westwind explained.
“But all three were provided by Sheila Greywand to help find Araminth,” Vomarian said.
“Three? That duplicitous…Greywand is up to something. One mere dragon would be sufficient. There must be a treaty of dragons or more than one party looking for her,” Westwind said.
“Yes, but that’s what we’re doing too,” My‑re scoffed.
“You’re just doing their leg work, but you don’t understand. If those mere dragons bring Araminth’s clothing, whoever received it will assume she’s dead,” Westwind replied. “Amongst dragons, nothing travels faster in Ghea than news and gossip of one of their own.”
“It’s a misunderstanding. Besides, people die all the time,” Vomarian said.
“People, yes, but not a dragon. They will assume she died within the Rirorni Empire.”
Met with blank stares, Westwind continued, “It is not in a dragon’s nature to be empathetic toward other races. There will be a terrible outrage from her family. Retribution will be demanded. Indignation repaid with fire.”
“Great, now we have to worry about a dragon setting a few fires,” My‑re said.
“No, not a dragon and not a few fires. A family, or worse, a treaty of dragons. The entire Rirorni Empire could be purged by flame.”
“They would kill hundreds of thousands of innocent people?” Vomarian asked.
“Yes, like humans would slaughter a pack of feral dogs that killed a child. None are innocent. You don’t understand. When hatchlings are born, they are usually in pairs. Unless food is plentiful, eliminating one is not uncommon to ensure the other survives. Dragon parents are extremely overbearing and protective, placing their essence into raising and caring for the surviving offspring. So much so that they will not mate again for fifty or more years. The hatchling’s entire future is planned hundreds of years in advance.”
As the group contemplated the serious nature of trouble ahead of them, Westwind continued, “If Varick kills Araminth and once her family learns he’s an Alastarian, their vengeance will then turn northward. All of Alastari will be forfeit and become a sea of fire.”
My‑re cursed in Rathiri and asked, “How long would it take for the mere dragons to navigate the Twisted Lands?”
“It’ll be slow for them, but at best, two weeks.”