Swift Wings

Noah and Shannon traveled ever deeper into the heart of Uther, following the tracks of the fiend army. However, the distance between them was growing with each passing day, and Noah was doing the math. “I have an idea,” he said, sitting with Shannon beside the campfire as they ate dinner, “an idea of how we can get to Colbrand faster.”

“I’m listening.”

Noah unrolled a map and pointed to a mountain near their location. “They say there is a dragon that lives in this mountain. Though feared for their strength, dragons are known to be very intelligent, far more so than their wyvern descendants. We might be able to convince him to join our cause, at least temporarily.”

“You want to enlist the help of a dragon?” Shannon gawked.

“He may be able to get us to Colbrand before the fiend army arrives, and I can’t think of a more powerful ally. Besides, if it doesn’t work, at most, we’ve added a few more days to our journey. What do you say?”

Shannon took a deep breath. “If anyone else were to propose such an idea, I would have called them mad. But if you tell me it’ll work, I’ll believe you.”

“Not quite the response I was looking for, but I appreciate your support.”

Thus, they took a detour, moving off the fiend’s path of destruction and heading for the mountain. They expected to find a gothic and foreboding stone spire in the wilderness, untouched by man, minus the scores of charred skeletons and signs warning travelers to stay away. Instead, at the foot of the mountain, they found a healthy village with fields of crops, including vast vineyards and farms devoted to hops and barley.

“Huh, ‘Dragonpint.’ I wasn’t expecting this,” said Noah, reading the village entrance sign. The sign was carved with the effigy of a dragon blowing a stream of fire over a beer stein.

“I’m certainly not complaining,” said Shannon.

They entered the village, robust and thriving in the spring warmth. As they walked down the main street, Noah spotted a young man wearing armor and a bronze knight emblem.

“Excuse me,” Noah said, waving to him.

“Can I help you, travelers?” he asked.

Noah flashed him his gold emblem, and the man tensed up. “I need to speak to the leader of this town. It’s an emergency.”

“R-r-right this way,” he stuttered.

“I must say, I never expect to find a village next to a dragon’s den,” said Noah as he and Shannon followed him through the village.

“It’s actually because of the dragon that this village is still around.”

“What do you mean?” Shannon asked.

“The dragon and the village have an agreement. Should an army of bandits or monsters attack, the dragon will awake from his slumber and deal with the threat. The agreement is one hundred barrels of wine and spirits a year, plus another hundred every time they call on him, but they haven’t had to awaken him in a long time. They say he’ll go out and hunt every few years, but he just sleeps the rest of the time. There are only a couple of other knights here and some soldiers, and really, our only job is maintaining the peace and dealing with problems too small to bother waking the dragon.”

The knight’s words gave Noah hope. If the dragon’s services could be bought with liquor, then his plan had a good chance of working. They were brought to one of the vineyards, where a well-dressed man could be seen speaking with a farmer.

“Mr. Mayor, there is someone who needs to speak to you!”

Noah, Shannon, and the knight met the mayor halfway. “Welcome to Dragonpint. I am Haven, the mayor. I must say, we rarely get a gold-ranked knight out here.”

Noah reached out and shook his hand. “I’m Sir Noah. This is my companion, Shannon. I’m afraid there is a dire situation.”

“What’s going on?”

“A colossal army from the beastman city of Welindar is marching on Colbrand, ready to wipe out every last man, woman, and child. They’ve already carved a path of destruction across the countryside and are moving fast. We hope to speak with the dragon and see if he’ll consider helping us save Colbrand. It may already be too late, but we have to try.”

The mayor rubbed his balding head and turned away. “If Colbrand is destroyed, the entire country will fall apart. I doubt he’ll go for it, but it’s certainly worth a shot. Come with me. We’ll prepare a tribute.”

The mayor hurried back to town, and Noah and Shannon followed.

“How did your town form this pact with the dragon?” Shannon asked.

“Believe it or not, it was his idea. Long, long ago, before my time, this village was being attacked by an ogre tribe, and then, out of nowhere, the dragon appeared and obliterated them. ‘Grow wheat and grapes,’ he said. ‘Brew me enough liquor to sleep until the end of time, and I will defend you.’ Then he spat out a big lump of gold and told our ancestors to use it to get started.”

Haven brought them to a large building near the vineyards, where men were hard at work making booze of all kinds in massive barrels. The smell of wine and beer was heavy, almost bringing tears to Shannon’s eyes, as though huffing a bar rag.

“I had heard about a company called Dragon’s Brewery that produced some of the country’s best wine, beer, and spirits, but their drinks were expensive, scarce, and kept secret. Is this the headquarters?” Noah asked.

“That is correct. We keep a large reservoir in case of emergencies, and whatever remains that we don’t drink ourselves is sold to a *********** few distributors.”

“Huh, I always assumed the name was just picked to sound interesting. You can find a thousand pubs, brothels, apothecaries, and other businesses with ‘dragon’ in their name.”

“‘Fit for a dragon’ is our motto. After all, he might not choose to help us if we provide subpar product.” Haven turned to a nearby barrel and filled two cups from the spigot. “Here, give it a taste. This is our prized ale.”

Noah and Shannon accepted and emptied their cups. “Oh, that is good.”

“I’ve never been one for these kinds of drinks, but that is nice,” said Shannon.

Haven then stepped away. “Men, we need to prepare a tribute for Roroaka!” The announcement sent a rush of fear through the workers. None of them had ever delivered to the dragon’s lair outside of the yearly offering.

“Is the town under attack?” one man asked, standing atop a series of scaffolding around several massive fermentation vats.

“Not our town, someone else’s! Colbrand! An army is marching on the capital! Hop to!”

The men rushed to fulfill the order, but it was a process. This was a society without forklifts, so moving the hundred barrels just around the brewery was a feat of monumental engineering, requiring pullies, rollers, and even monk magic. They were loaded onto huge wagons, each pulled by a team of oxen. Noah, Shannon, and Haven stood back, watching the herculean effort unfold.

“Each one of those barrels costs a fortune. I don’t suppose we could expect to be reimbursed by the kingdom?”

“I can’t speak on their behalf, especially if they’ve already been wiped out. It’ll be easier to just pay for it myself. Would you accept gems as payment?”

“You have them?”

“By the time the barrels are done loading, I will. Shannon, my stationary if you would, please.”

She smiled. “Hanger vellum and No. 3 ink?”

“Precisely, dear.”

They stepped outside, and Shannon assumed her centaur form. She then conjured a roll of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill from her ring. She carried much of his materials and tools in her ring, acting as a magical caddy. She also conjured a plastic slate for use as a makeshift writing surface. It could be set on anything, but for some reason, she liked it when Noah hung it off her back and used her as an easel.

Noah wrote a long alchemic formula, and Shannon performed the magic, preparing a king’s ransom in diamonds using nothing but locally sourced carbon. Her magical capacity had grown by leaps and bounds while working as Noah’s assistant, simply from how often she cast these spells. As per his words, the last barrel was being strapped down in its wagon by the time he was finished.

“Prepare yourselves; you’re about to meet a dragon,” said Haven, climbing into one of the wagons.

Noah and Shannon did the same, and the caravan began its journey up the mountain slopes. A road had been built ages ago for tribute and was painstakingly maintained, but still, the slightest bump and jostle made everyone nervous. The oxen groaned as they pulled the wagons, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. Finally, they arrived at a massive cave, large enough for a 747 to pass through, and extending deep into the heart of the mountain. In front of the cave was a large basin, the size of a backyard pool, and a church bell.

Examining the basin and the surrounding rock, Noah realized that all the stone had been warped into shape. Even the cave was too smooth and uniform to have naturally occurred. The barrels were emptied into the basin, and once it was full, Haven retrieved a hammer and approached the bell. All the workers covered their ears, so Noah and Shannon did the same.

GONG!

Haven struck the bell repeatedly until, finally, a great tremor shook the mountain. The men quivered in fear and got ready to prostrate. Noah stored his wyvern leather coat in his ring, not wanting to cause offense. He could hear movement in the darkness, and soon, a massive shape entered his view. Even he was shocked by what emerged.

The dragon stepped out into the sunlight, the epitome of power and supremacy. His muscular four-legged body was wrapped in black and dark-red scales, each one the size of a knight’s shield and infinitely more durable. He was massive, capable of shredding a basilisk with one swipe of his claws, and as he stepped out of the cave, he stretched his wings, each one several times the size of a football field. He gazed with golden eyes at the puny humans before him and huffed with an almost regal bearing, fitting with the five large horns atop his head reminiscent of a crown.

“The time of year is not right for my awakening. What new vermin threatens my sanctuary?” he grumbled with a voice like thunder.

“Almighty Roroaka, we humbly come before you asking for your help!” Haven shouted. “However, it is not our village that is being attacked. Please, let this man explain.”

He turned to Noah, waiting for him to step forward, but Noah was stunned. Even after more than a hundred lifetimes and everything he had seen—no, he was at a loss for words because of those lifetimes. A hundred lifetimes of study and experience, uncovering the secrets of life and witnessing its most extraordinary and horrific forms, and it was that knowledge that allowed him to properly appreciate the sight before him.

This being was a biological marvel, blasting everything he thought he knew about anatomy out of the water. A creature of such size should collapse under its own weight, but to even fly? Noah could also sense his overwhelming power, greater than Adwith Tarnas and Elisandra, as if he had a nuclear reactor for a heart. Only this world could produce such a life form. But just as he could sense the dragon, so too could Roroaka sense him.

He lowered his head and glared at Noah. “You, you’re different from the others. There is something about you, something powerful, something… ancient.”

Noah cleared his throat. “When I communed with the spirits of nature, they acknowledged me as an entity similar to them. That connection is what you are sensing. The queen of the elves was able to sense it as well.”

“Hmmm, I do indeed sense the spirits’ blessing, but that is only the result of what I detect, not the source. Very curious. Who are you?”

“I am Noah, the Wandering Spirit, a being that has transcended time, space, and death. This body I inhabit is merely a vessel, one of countless others I have owned throughout the millennia.”

“Perhaps you might be even older than myself.”

“I hope not. I’ve always wanted to meet someone older than me, who understood time on the same scale I do.”

Haven and the other men listened to the conversation with wide eyes, unable to believe what they were hearing. The way Noah and the dragon spoke to each other, the things they were saying, it was as if they were listening to two gods.

“What brings you before me, Wandering Spirit?”

“I seek your aid. In the past, you’ve protected this village from invaders. I ask you to do the same for the city of Colbrand. A monstrous army marches on the capital of Uther, a hundred thousand strong.” The men gasped in shock, trying to imagine an army of such numbers.

“These lands change ownership so often; those names mean nothing to me. I protect this village because it exists within my territory, and its humble citizens brew the drinks I enjoy. I have no intention of aligning myself with some arrogant human king on his gilded throne. Whatever army is threatening to conquer that city, I’d say they deserve to have it.”

“Even if that army was born from Zyrga?”

Roroaka narrowed his eyes. “Say that again?”

“The Profane have reemerged with their sights set on consuming this world. The army marching on Colbrand was once the population of a city, a hundred thousand men, women, and children. They were transformed into unholy abominations, had their freedom and souls stolen from them, and now they are forced to fight.”

“And?