Chapter: 11

Thrum, thrum, thrum. Arcturus drummed the cold iron knocker against the hard oak before him, his breath misting in the air. He waited with chattering teeth, cursing under his breath as fresh snow had begun whisking its way down from the lead grey clouds above. Was the weather so quick to change due to Fremra’s whims? One wondered what a dragon like she would get out of such chilly weather.

 He was but an ant before the city’s wizard tower, once a place of great renown, were Jandar the travelling mage wove his powerful spells. A blackened tower of obsidian it reached towards the heavens like an outstretched arm, it’s topped a dragon’s claw, perfect for such a creature to land. No doubt for it’s master when not in his humanoid form.

No answer from the tower’s inhabitants. Why Florimel and Nivra had been moved out here no one would say, but whatever it was, the elder mage had gotten on the guardian’s nerves. Though he had spent hours traveling the keep’s corridors, searching away to no avail for the pair. Such a waste of a day, he’d grumbled to himself, though he wasn’t certain if his annoyance was more because of his own feelings, or that shared by Veledar during his daily training with Fremra. It was getting harder to tell these days, to sift himself from the dragon’s emotions. Would one day they be unable to tell? The thought gave him pause, only to be driven out of his head by a dreadful wind that bit at him like the fiercest of gryphons.

The door, pristine, itself made of out solid stone, swung open as though as willed by a giant, bristling with muscles. It was Florimel, the elder mage with his beard flapping about, dressed within robes which colors resembled very much like dirt. The fabric looked as though it better belonged on a potato sack, rather then upon the man who could turn men’s weapons to fish in the blink of an eye. It was he that now scowled upon Arcturus, hands upon his hips.

“Florimel, good to-“

“Why won’t you take a hint ole boy? NO HARRIC THIS IS NOT YOUR KITTY TREAT DELIVERIES. We have not ordered anything from your establishment in quite some time, and honestly the sandwiches we did order that time were terrible abysmal. Think I got sick for a fortnite.” The mage flicked his finger as though it were a weapon, sending ice down Arcturus’ spine. “Now, run and tell your master to stop trying to shake us down for money, else I’ll consider turning you and he into newts!”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say when the wizard slammed the door in his face, nearly knocking the paladin down the steps he’d climbed. Had the man forgotten who he was again? He groaned and shook his head, perhaps they’d gotten lucky in the time they’d had him here.

“Voidwing, must you always order take away? It’s starting to get ridiculous, did you know the last delivery boy looked like Arcturus?”

With a sigh, the paladin knocked again, readying himself to duck at the irate wizard’s spell.

“HOLD ON CARRIC, I’LL SEE IF IT’S YOUR GRYPHAX DELIVERY SERVICE WITH YOUR NEWSPAPER.” Florimel hurled open the door once more, his robes having been replaced with his blue stitched ones with silver trimmings. “Now that did I just-“ The man shouted as Arcturus went to duck, but a smile spread across the mage’s face. “Oh Arcturus it’s you my boy!” Without warning he trapped the knight in a tight hug. “We’ve missed you all morning! Harric thought you’d been killed! I said to him, Harric, a mouse won’t be killing that sporting lad, he’s got a dragon.” He stopped, eyes wide as he waggled his nose, “There isn’t giant mice running around again is there?”

“N-not that I’ve seen no.” He managed to peel the man off of him without much fuss, who seemed rather more interested with what lay behind him.

“Did you happen to see that young man that was just here? Think he worked for Gryphax’s competitors, terrible company. Keep trying to insist we ordered hot wings for gods sakes. Like we’d even consider eating wyvern wings, again. But at this hour?” The mage wheeled around, shaking his head in contempt, “Can you imagine, come in come in! Before your blasted bull gets cold!”

“Asterion? He decided to not come after we found out you were here. Got the strange idea that you were not what you seemed.”

“Well, no one is quite what they seem.”

“Yes, but he thought you might be Loki himself, playing an elaborate prank on us mortals.”

“Bah, Loki?” Florimel laughed from his gut, “That ole rascal? He’d be far better dressed than me!”

Oh, he always said the most bizarre things. “Is that why you were kicked out of the shard of Bahamut’s cavern?”

“Oh that?” The mage scoffed, “They didn’t like me asking if I could talk to it. It’s not like it answered back! I also might have turned one of their heads a vibrant shade of pink.”

Talk to it? The paladin’s brow rose over such a comment. Perhaps Asterion was not so strange as to avoid this man, nor Nivra to keep an eye in regards to her research. There was something peculiar about him. For now he nodded along as Florimel described more antics as the wizard led him down a lantern lit hallway.

It was wide enough that a dragon of Veledar’s stature might not be squeezed, but at the same time not allow his wings to be spread. Dust was thick about the corners and clung to what vases and paintings adorned the walls, cobwebs spread across the ceiling like a forest itself. There were several offshoots to various halls they did pass, but Florimel never shifted or lingered for Arcturus to go exploring. The paladin got the sneaking suspicion this was longer than the tower had any right to be.

“Noticing it havn’t ya.” The mage gave him a sly smirk, a twinkle in his eye. “Go on, everyone likes to say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know.” Florimel nudged him, “About the surroundings, how they don’t quite fit the outside?”

“How it’s bigger on the inside?” Arcturus’ brow rose, only brightening up the old man’s face.

“That’s it!” He snapped his fingers, “Ole big of special magic this. How did Jandar know that I wonder?” He started to stroke his beard as they entered what appeared to be a study. “Only ones known who that could do were the story tellers. Jandar must have been quite the mage!”

Thick with the smell of incents, this study was large enough for at least four dragons to lay down comfortably. There were couches to lounge upon with thick pillows of dark crimson, gathered around a fireplace currently crackling away with a blazing heat to cast away any cold that might have wormed its way inside. Tables of vials and beakers were pressed against the walls, complete with trays slathered with magical ingredients. The knight couldn’t name half a dozen of them, but none were as grisly as what they’d witnessed in the lich’s lair. Axton was busy stirring a reddish liquid together, goggles over his eyes.

“Hey Arcturus!” The young man smiled, crimson bubbles spiraling up around his face. Where they popped his black hair vanished, he shrieked and collapsed upon the floor, thankfully not taking everything with him.

Instead of alarm as one might expect, Florimel was to the young mage with the scolding of a parent. He peered into the red vial with a critical eye, some of the bubbles burning away his eyebrows. “Did you add mint?”

“Isn’t that what it called for?” Axton pulled himself up, dusting off his jacket.

“No, it called for lint!” He pointed to a parchment of paper he’d scribbled, but the words were so pressed together nothing could be read.

“Does it?”

“Yes it does, right….” Florimel paused, rereading the list of ingredients. The mage laughed, “Huh, even I don’t know what it says.” He returned the paper back to the lad, restoring their hair with a wink and flick of the wrist. “There we are, just turned it from a healing potion to a vanishing potion was all. Just don’t bring it around Krotos, he’s in a mood again.”

“You’d be in a mood too if all your fur and feathers were tossed out!” The gryphon in question shouted from one of the couches, a thick wool blanket pulled over him. His feathers, which there were not many, were like tiny little blue stumps across his naked flesh. As Arcturus caught sight of him the gryphon shoved himself under the blanket, “Don’t look Arcturus! No one should see me like this! It’s utterly horrifying!”

“I assume this was the handiwork of Crimson Sky?” Remarked the paladin, padding over as Florimel gestured him close. “I’d thought it was more playful-“

“This was his doing!” He gestured to the older mage with a talon, before snatching it back below his blanket wall. “He’s got it out for gryphon kind he does! And what did they all do? Laugh!”

“It was rather funny.” Voidwing stretched himself, having emerged from the other couch. He was sporting a leather strap around the base of his neck, complete with a pouch. The lion eared gryphon nodded sauntered over with a welcoming chirp, starting to nuzzle up against him as though he were a cat.

Arcturus scratched along the gryphon’s neck, focusing in on his ear. Ever since their adventure into Nigel’s lair, the bodyguard had been far more affectionate. “If everyone gets this kind of affection upon entering, Krotos here might get jealous.”

“Oh, these scratches feel every so good.” The gryphon groaned in jest, moving so that Arcturus’ hand caressed every bit of his furry spine. “You should come over!”

“I hate you.” Krotos chirped.

“Nivra up yet?” Arcturus asked as the gryphon continued his stroll, peering inquisitively into a pair of spectacles laying innocently upon the table. “I believe I must have word with her.”

“Why with her instead of me?” Florimel laughed, conjuring a chair out of thin air for him to recline in. It had large poofy cushions of emerald stitching, complete with eight feet that appeared to more like the roots of a tree. “The young girl is getting her beauty sleep!

“She’s still asleep?” Arcturus said, his arms crossing, “Oh how lucky the royals can be.”

“And dragons.” Florimel added with a wink.

“Sometimes I think Nivra might be one in disguise.” Chirped Voidwing as he passed Axton, who had just gotten back to remaking his potion. “But yes, she’s still asleep. Late night I think she had, researching mana crystals.”

“I warned her to not make them explode. Crazy things happen when you-“ The mage turned to eye one of his black cats with a skull pattern in the fur, Carric as his collar declared, sat upon his hinds to look innocently at the skeptical magician, “Like a pair of cats comes to try and murder you!”

“Meow” Went Carric, black tail flicking across his hinds.

Sleep this late? Arcturus groaned and took an offered seat. “Florimel, if not her, perhaps you could give me an answer?”

“An answer for what?” The mage tilted his head, procuring a saucer of milk out of thin air. He gestured it to Voidwing, who snapped his beak, warding it away.

“I said for the last time old man, I’m not a cat!” His ears pinned as Florimel insisted.

“But you’re part cat, at least try! It’s fresh off the cow’s tits!”

“No.” He swatted away the bowl, shattering it against the floor.

The man sighed, clicking his fingers so that the bowl, and it’s contents returned whence they came. “No wonder you’re so small then.” With a smile on his face he turned to Arcturus, “Now why seek us out? Thinking of a career change? Not too late mind you, but vastly different to learning about dragons and swinging a sword around.” The wizard puffed up his chest, eyes closed, adopting a most regal, dragonesque pose one might say. “Very well, I’ll be your teacher into the ever expanding world of the arcane arts. Just know I’m a very demanding teacher.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” He chuckled as the response caused the poor man to slump in his seat in disappointment, “Not to say I wouldn’t like to be a magician. Just my skills lie elsewhere.”

“Yea, I bet. They involve handling dragons.” Snickered Krotos from behind his blanket.

“There are children present gryphon. Perhaps we should remove one’s blanket?”

“Shutting up.”

“Excellent. Florimel, last eve we encountered accounts of a magical enchantment, something like dragonfear but not.” He went to explain exactly what dragonfear was, but the mage cut him off with a hand. “It had the ability to grip those affected with a terrible affliction. They were so frightened at one another they attacked who they had once called friend. Allies turned on each other, spilled their blood. It swatted a ship of Lumarians from the sky.”

He stoked his beard, sitting up with interest in those baby blues. “Swatted? How big of a one?”

“Not fly swatter.” Arcturus groaned.

“Well you didn’t specify! We’re talking about magical flying dragons Arcturus, anything is possible at this point!”

“How bad was it?” Asked Voidwing, ears pinning as he visibly shivering at the thought. He had to sit upon his hinds to stop his solitary white leg from wiggling away. “Anyone make it?”

“Skywing and a group of others.” Replied Arcturus, recounting the entire evening’s adventure as the gryphon breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, not a swatter you say, but worse than Dragonfear?” Florimel brought himself up, starting to pace around the room as he muttered and whispered to himself. When Arcturus was going to interrupt him he stopped dead, an idea clearly springing to mind.

“You got an idea?”

“No.” Smiled the wizard.

“Great.” Arcturus slumped, “Back to square-“

“But it sounds like a job for Nivra.” He cleared his throat and twirled his finger to his neck. “I suppose she’s slept for well enough of the day!”

“Can we perhaps wait a bit longer?” Winced Voidwing, his silver tuft tail thumping at his paws, “She really had a late night. Be a bit cranky when she’s woken too early.”

“Oh, poppy cockish.” He waved away the gryphon’s concern, “Arcturus here is dying every moment she’s not around! Whats the worst that can happen?” He took in a deep breath as Voidwing’s ears practically stitched themselves to his head.

“Florimel maybe let the girl-“ Arcturus covered his ears as the wizard’s voice thundered like that of the gods themselves.

 “TIME TO GET UP PRINCESS! YOU”VE GOT VISITORS, AND A MAGICAL MYSTERY TO SOLVE! A LITERAL CALL TO ADVENTURE IF YOU WOULD! NO HARRIC THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE HOAXES!” Stone quivered, glass shattered, the entire building shook with the force of an earthquake. When finished, ears were ringing as the mage looked to the others, arms on his hips and a great big smile. “Think she heard me?”

“I think everywhere heard you.” Groaned Axton, turning his fingers in his ears. “Anyone else have ringing?”

“A whole gods damned band.” Krotos whimpered. “Did you need to be so loud?”

“COURSE IT DID, THE WOMAN’S ASLEEP.” Laughed the wizard in the same volume, smacking his knee. Upon realizing such a mistake, and the wincing of his guests, he corrected it by tapping his throat, returning his voice back to normal. “You don’t want her hibernating for centuries, do you? You wind up missing all the good parts, like the grutak shuffle, the fall of drakor, and my most favorite of all the food!” Florimel tossed up his hands, wiggling them all about.

“Er…Centuries?” Arcturus’ brow rose, not quiet certain if the old man was right in the head this day. “I assume you meant hours?”

Florimel scoffed and dismissed him with a wave, “Have you wax in your ears my boy? I said centuries, as in hundreds of years? I’ll say, do they teach you to count while you go about swinging your sword?”

“Course-“

“And that’s why the people. Everyone always whines about forgetting them. But that’s all their fault, living so fast. Practically in the blink of an eye it is!” The wizard was now meandering across the room, ranting and raving as he stroked his beard, “But that’s why dragons are the best company Arcturus.” He rounded on the paladin, thrusting a finger to his chest, a crazed look in his eye. “They never mind the break between naps.”

There he was off again on a tangent, where the knight knew not if he were serious or mad. Nervously he exchanged a ear splayed look with Voidwing, the gryphon no doubt thinking the same thing. Arcturus merely offered a nod of understanding, trying to shove a finger in his ears to rid himself of the terrible ringing that had now reared it’s ugly head. Thankfully there were loud thumps from above, there would be no other round of Florimel’s shouting.

“She’s awake!” Chirped Voidwing happily, downright singing as a staircase emerged from the ceiling.

Suspended on pulleys and wires, it descended with the sound of metal gears. Upon it was already the exhausted mage, wrapped tight in a dark navy night gown. Her hair was held back as not to get in her eyes, of which had sizable bags hanging below them. Nivra strode down with heavy thumps, fire already crackling within her gaze. As she swept the hall the gryphon’s ears splayed, until she found the smiling Florimel. To him she marched with without a word, her fury seeming to radiate from her very flesh.

“Good morning to you Nivra, sleep well I take it?’ Florimel said with an innocent roll of the wrist, “Care for some tea?”

“Do you have any idea how loud you were?” She hissed.

“Quite, I was trying to wake you up dear.”

“You knocked me out of the bed and nearly deafened me! Had the idea of walking up and knocking upon my door occurred to you?”

“Yes, but this seemed faster, plus, more interesting to boot.”

She groaned, seeing that she was in no mood nor position to go about correcting the elder magician. Grumbling to herself she strode passed Axton, ignoring his offer for her to see his work and procured a teacup from one among the shelves. “Morning Arcturus, Voidwing, Axton. At least some of you know to be quiet.”

“I did try to warn him.” Voidwing approached to give his love an affectionate rub against, his ears splayed so that she instinctively placed her hand between them to rub tenderly. “But he didn’t listen. I do believe my ears were hurt something dreadful.” The onyx gryphon slid to the floor as the princess massaged at the base of his ears, reducing the gryphon to nothing more than a rumbling, pay flicking mess.

“Oh, so when he does it it’s cute.” Krotos grumbled, “But when I do it, it’s not accounting for your personal space.”

“Perhaps if you were my love, that privilege would be yours gryphon.” Nivra replied sternly, “Until then, permission is ever asked of you.”

“Hmmf.” He huffed, averting his gaze.

She had poured herself some tea before joining the others in sitting down, the steam curling like tendrils across her face.  Before she’d even addressed them further, a morning biscuit had been shoved into her mouth. As she chewed Florimel had gone and made himself scarce, proceeding to help Axton with his next list of magical chores. “So, Arcturus, I gather you have need of me?”

“I really didn’t ask him to wake you.” Winced the knight, “Terrible way to wake up isn’t it.”

“We all can’t wake peacefully with a gryphon or dragon at our side.” She sighed, “Arcturus, did you know that mimics used to have a semblance of sentience about them?”

“Um…What?” Arcturus couldn’t hide his surprise over such a change in the topic.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I was attempting…Oh lord, what do you call it…Small talk, that’s it.” She snapped her fingers, “And don’t blame me over your lack of enthusiasm over such a topic, It’s probably because you’re thick.”

“Nivra!” Squawked Voidwing, wings fluffing in alarm.

She groaned, shaking her head, “What? Long night, woken up by a blasted foghorn. Apologies that I’m not in a chipper attitude. Apologies Arcturus, but you probably have a dozen or so factoids of swords and hunting beasts or other many exploits. Or perhaps a little peek into the draconic knowledge that your family was so good with. Or I suppose just get to why you have need of me, unwind your tongue.”

Without any sugar coating, Arcturus proceeded to fill he in on the entirety of last night’s activities. Every chilling detail down to the smallest of ones, Skywing, the attack, the dragon, even the attempt on his life. The thought chilled Arcturus, having to kill what should have been men of honor and esteem.  The statement got a round of gasps by those present.

“Nivra, they tried to kill him!” Voidwing chirped in alarm.

“And?” The princess shrugged calmly, “I think we have greater concerns than two random assassins.”

“And what could be greater than that?” He ruffled his feathers, “Because it sounds like this puts all our lives in danger.”

“Oh please Voidwing, we’ve fought assassins plenty of times.” Scoffed Nivra, “How many times would this be, seven?”

“That’s hardly the point! We’re in foreign lands, no aid. We should be most careful!”

“And we will be vigilant.” She sighed, stroking under his chin, “But I do have to agree with him Arcturus. What is more important than the knights trying to kill us? It does boggle the mind.”

He shifted in his seat as he did his best to relay what Skywing and the others had told to them. The two before him were spellbound, eyes wide as he described their own tearing at each other’s throats. “And how he accomplished this, I still not know.” He shook his head, hands on his thighs. “But I imagine its some sort of amplification of his dragonfear.”

“Dragonfear?” Voidwing chirped, tilting his head. “You mentioned that earlier, is it like, they get afraid?”

“It’s more than that.” She replied, “Arcturus can correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s a magical ability that dragons possess, generally the larger ones. They can cause a magical sense of fear to those that behold their acts, simply by willing it to action. Some run-in terror, others shiver like they’ve seen a ghost, some freeze up, unable to do a thing.  I’ve heard of such a thing before but never seen it, it’s –“

“Terrifying.” Said Arcturus.

“Impressive…Impressively terrifying.” She finished with a cough, seeing that she didn’t share the same thoughts on the matter. She crossed her legs most formally, “Even if it’s assumed applications are monstrous.”

“That’s putting it mildly. With that sort of magical feat, whatever defenses would be pitiful. Struport would be defeated before they’d even manned the walls.” His heart sunk, imagining Dreadflame’s cruel gaze over the western walls. “This is not my area of expertise, I figured, since you were not busy, you could help.”

“Not busy?” She gasped, rolling a hand to her breast, “I’ve been quite busy!”

“Sleeping?” His brow rose as Voidwing groaned, splayed his ears and covered his eyes.

“I’ve been helping Florimel here make potions for the days ahead!” She gestured to Axton, who was busy gathering materials for the next batch of potions.

“That looks like you have Axton doing all the work.”

“Well, for now. I was asleep, or didn’t you notice.” She groaned, eyeing Florimel as the old mage went and slipped out of the room. “I’d have thrown him out, but it’s not possible?”

“Not possible?”

“She tried, but he kept popping back up.” Voidwing explained with a chirp, “Worst time was out of a trunk.” The gryphon’s ears splayed as he shivered, “So much broken glass.”

“Poor Voidy leaped at least three feet into the air.” Crooned Nivra, catching her love by the chin and pulling his beak in for a quick peck. “If he wouldn’t be useful, I’d wash my hands of him.”

“Right, the mana crystals.” Arcturus shifted in his seat, “So he’s a dead end then?”

“But Arcturus don’t you fret, I’m not discouraged. Florimel is a fascinating wonder. Does magic without a movement or word of power. I don’t think I’ve even seen him study a spellbook or prepare his spells as is typical.” She leaned back, rolling one of her raven locks around her finger, “It boggles the mind. Is he a boon or something far worse?”

“Now you’re worried? After you tried to throw him out?” Arcturus crossed his arms, “I thought it was rule number one to not agitate a wizard that can turn an entire platoon’s weapons to fish without a gesture.”

“Yes, but I don’t think he’s a danger…Well, not on purpose.” She drooped in her chair, a defeated look upon her brow, “If I was daft in the head, I’d start to suspect that he’s a story teller.”

He’d heard that name before. The paladin’s brow rose, “That ancient sect of wizards?”

She waved off his sudden interest, “Yes Arcturus. But you won’t find a credible wizard these days that believes in such fantasies. Traveling to other planes? Rivaling the powers of the gods themselves?”

“Have we not done that?” A knowing smirk spread its way across his lips. “Or was that shifting vault in another plane a dream to me?”

“Just because we visited another plane doesn’t mean the man is a creature of legend.” Her eyes rolled as she flicked a finger, summoning another biscuit to her palm. “It’s just a trick I must figure out is all. Trust me, things with Nigel were just as astounding when I saw them. They were all achievable in time, Florimel here will be no different, mark my words. He’s a great wizard, playing the fool.”

From the other room came a terrible cacophony of noise. Of glasses and plates shattered upon the floor. It tore apart the conversation and left them looking towards where it came, only for Florimel to break the silence.

“Nothing to worry about, I’ll fix it!”

“Honestly, I think the man is going to drive me mad.” Nivra heaved a great sigh.

Having enough of this banter, Arcturus met the princess’ eye with a stern gaze of his own. “But you’re avoiding the question.”

“Am I? I don’t think one was asked.”

“Will you help me figure out a way to shield the Drenedarians from this dragonfear?”

“I suppose I could.” She sat upright, eyes already starting to dazzle in the firelight. “It certainly sounds interesting enough. Not as interesting as the old coot, but it will do. I just have a question for you though Arcturus.”

“Yes?” His brow rose.

“Part of your many vows, is one of them to perhaps make more work for me?”

“I assure you, none of them are.” He replied with a smile, a sigh of relief soon escaping his lips.

Nivra rose, like a fire had been lit beneath her, “Then what are we waiting for? We have tests to run, spells to experiment with, we have to start somewhere.”

“I can lend my assistance with fear spells! They pack quite the whopper!” Florimel called out from the hall, followed by yet another series of shattering glass.

As the others laughed and shook their heads, Arcturus could only linger upon the days ahead. Whatever they hoped to accomplish they needed to do swiftly, otherwise the citizens of Struport would not be brought low by sword, teeth or claw, but by their own hands, tearing at their throats.