4. Home
The ride wasn’t long. Tanenvil was built along the banks of the great lake at the center of the continent, Fell Lake, which housed the island of Fellrock. What would have been a several day sail by ship, or a months long walk before taking the bridge, instead took six hours.
Six hours of pure unadulterated nausea.
The carriage didn’t stop shaking and rocking the entire flight. Emren attempted to keep up small talk, but Arxet was too busy attempting to spill his guts the entire ride to respond. She ended up bent over him rubbing his back, completely unbothered by the movement and able to stand comfortably as the room around them rocked like a ship in a storm.
Arxet knew more than ever he didn’t want to be a rider. He didn’t understand how anyone could fly by wing. He spent the first few hours hoping the saddle would come undone and he would plummet to the lake below, and the second half was primarily spent in a state of half consciousness, too exhausted to move or even process the world around him.
He couldn’t clearly remember the second half of the flight. What he did remember didn’t make sense. Emren couldn’t have sang to him, or cradle his head in her lap. That would be weird. He was just some rascally brigand she’d met that day. Dreams sure are out there.
All he could remember for sure was Amjazel landing, and Emren carrying him back down from the saddle and to a bed. He woke up sore through his entire body, with a burning in his throat, and his tongue dry as sandstone.
Had he gone on a bender and just dreamed up the whole dragon encounter? That would certainly make more sense than being ‘chosen’ by a dragon and flown to the center of the world.
With a groan and gritted teeth he sat up in bed to examine his environment. It wasn’t the abandoned farmhouse. The room around him was built of mud brick with wooden support beams, typical for a lakeside Ti’Aval dwelling. What set this room apart was the level of precision in each brick placed. The walls were the smoothest and straightest Arxet had ever seen. Except for the gaps in the bricks where the grout had been used as filler there were no deviations in the stone work. The ceiling was similarly precise, with eight triangular wooden supports holding up the stone floor above. The only points of egress were a doorway covered by a thick white woolen curtain, and a window draped with bright purple fabric, casting the room in a warm purple glow. The floor below and around Arxet was smooth polished granite, so reflective that the sun blinded him slightly through a gap in the drapes as he glanced around the room. Luckily, a woven reed mat around the bed blocked the worst of the sun’s hateful rays from his eyes.
Voices echoed from beyond the window, too muffled and varied to make out anything in particular. The bed sheets were the softest material Arxet had ever touched. He ran them through his gnarled calloused paws with fascination. He’d always said he deserved the finer things, but a deep sense of unease shot through him as he finally had the chance to experience them. These must have cost at least fifty silver, if not an entire gold. Who was spending this kind of money on him, and why? What were they trying to get out of him? Did they know he was someone semi-important before he was thrown away?
Slowly he began to connect the dots from the previous day. He was in Fellrock. The center of the world. The home of the riders and the ministry. This was already far past the three hots and a cot that Emren had promised him. What else was the smug bitch not telling him?
He surged out of the bed, barely keeping his balance as his feet hit the floor. After a moment out of bed he realized he’s not in his old clothes anymore. He was in sleepwear just as fine as the bed, a bold purple to match Amjazel. How far would her ‘claim’ on him go? Had Emren changed him while he was asleep?
Fortunately, he also found his things tucked underneath the bed and neatly folded, along with two other sets of street-wear. Both were as fine and vibrant in color as the sheets and sleep-wear he’d found himself in, one purple and one blue. His own vestments still reeked of dragon drool, though he realized after he still did too. So they had the audacity to change his clothes in his sleep but not clean him off first? These people had confusing standards.
For now he chose the blue set of robes offered to him. It was a deep ocean blue around the torso and arms with white threads covered in multicolored beads running down past his knees. They clacked obnoxiously as he moved, foiling any intent he had to sneak around that day. They were a bit small for him as well, and hugged uncomfortably around the hips and stomach, but at least the tail hole was wide enough for him. He looked over himself with hesitant satisfaction. He looked good, that was for sure, but he dreaded he was digging himself a deeper and deeper hole of debt and favors with these people. What if they tried to get the value of all this stuff back out of him if he dropped out of the riders after finishing training like he’d said? There was no way in hell he could afford all this on a thief’s salary.
He’d probably just have to try and skip town if that happened. Unless the dragon’s scent marking made him stick out like a sore thumb to her. Yeah there was probably no escape actually.
“Welp. Better get to it before those bastards drag me out of here.” He slung his bag on his shoulder and double checked everything was still there. His money was all accounted for, along with his lockpicking kit. That should be everything… No! The dagger! Where did the dagger go? Of course they’d want it back. It’s probably some sort of important rider relic! Fuck! They could probably figure out he stole it! Maybe they’d forgive him for pickpocketing coins but a rider blade could be a whole different story!
He double checked all around the bed and corners of the room for it with no luck. They’d found the blade, who knew what that could mean for him?
About a minute into his panic spiral a tapping from behind the curtains broke him from his thoughts. “Good morning, friend! I heard you moving around up here. We’ve got some breakfast ready downstairs if you want some.”
Arxet froze. Had he been that obvious? Was he getting sloppy? “Right, sounds good. I’ll uh. I’ll be. Out. In. A minute?”
“Sure thing.” Emren responded with unnerving patience and understanding. “I’ll keep some in the oven so it doesn’t get cold.” Her boot steps receded down the hallway outside.
Once he was sure she was gone he peaked out through the curtains into the hallway outside. Its construction was similar to his room: brick walls, stone floors, wooden supports. A small atrium gave him a limited view of the first floor below and third above. There were three other doorways on the same level as him, and a stairwell. None of the curtains blocking the other rooms were drawn, allowing him to glance inside each. One was some sort of library, stacked to the gills with scrolls, cylinder seals, and tablets, and the other two were empty bedrooms.
Checking over the side of the railing into the atrium he caught the back of Emren’s legs and tail crouched over a small brick oven built into the wall. The fragrant food was already drifting up to meet his nose, and he nearly fell over the railing as it hit him. He’d been living off of bar food and scraps for ten long years. Home cooking was a luxury he had forgot he missed. That food put enough skip in his step to get him down those stairs without more delay.
The bottom floor was far more wide open. It seemed to be a shared living space with a fire pit, brick oven, cushions, and a low wooden table. An open doorway lead out to a massive courtyard, large enough for a dragon to land in. From the eating area a window larger than any of the doorways in the building lead out to the open courtyard, with dozens of large thick cushions on the floor below. Is that a place for a dragon to poke its head through? Is that even comfortable?
“Ah, good! I didn’t want it to get dried out. I wanted to celebrate you joining us here, so I made a larger spread. My daughter should be joining us shortly.” She pulled a pair of bread loaves from the oven and set them out on the table and sat down, patting next to her.
“Um… is this your house? Why am I here? Shouldn’t I be at the ministry’s academy?” Arxet crept forward into the space. He wasn’t used to sharing a meal with anyone, especially in their home. The table was already laid out with grilled meats, vegetables, dates, and hummus. Despite his mountain of apprehension his mouth was watering.
“You can’t just launch into your training any time. In the spring and summer they have three courses that they stagger every two months. The first of the three is starting in four days. You’ll be staying here with us until then.” She patted the spot next to her again. “Come on, you threw up a lot yesterday. It’s important you get some food in you.” She picks up a bronze pitcher and pours a cup of water for him as well. “Fluids too. You’ll need your strength for the academy.”
Arxet caved and sank down next to her. He was painfully hungry and his lips were beginning to crack from dehydration after the flight yesterday. He didn’t have the energy for another argument with this woman.
Eagerly, she cut open one of the loaves and began piling on meats, vegetables, and hummus inside before sliding it over to Arxet. “Here, eat. Made with love.”
The rat’s nose wrinkled at the word. She’d only just met him. Wasn’t ‘made with love’ a bit forward? “Thanks. I guess.” He lifted the loaf and ate it in four quick bites, barely chewing between. The entire thing took him ten seconds at most to eat. For him it was natural to eat fast. When you don’t have a lot of food and might even be fighting other urchins for it you don’t hesitate or take your time to enjoy it. He did have to admit though. It was the best damn thing he’d tasted in years. “Pretty good.”
Emren gawked at the display. It was the first time Arxet had seen her without that infuriating smile on her face. Seeing that he’d cracked the facade plastered a smug smile across his own features. “What’s that look for?”
“You- well I’d hoped you’d savor it.” She regains her composure, and a look of concern replaces the shock. “You’ll make yourself sick eating that fast. Go on and have the water at least, there’s more where that came from.”
Arxet sneers. “Ain’t in the habit of taking chances. Don’t want anyone to swipe my food.”
“No one is going to do that here, dear.” Emren chuckles and begins serving herself as well. “We have plenty.”
“I know that!” He snapped before chugging the water. “It’s just a habit is all.”
“You’ll need to break it then.” She takes a dainty bite of the bread and makes a big show of slowly chewing and savoring it. “You said you deserve luxury. This is how you’re supposed to live luxuriously.”
Arxet could only grumble in response. Once again the smug bitch was right, he just refused to admit it. “Where’s whatshername then? Amjawhatever?”
“Amjazel is with her mother for the week. It’s unfortunate, but its customary for her to not see you again until you finish the first leg of your training. You have to get through it on your own.”
“Her mother?” He downed the last of his cup.
“Tiamat.” Emren topped the cup off again.
Arxet fumbled the cup as he tried to pick it up again. “TIAMAT? Like the goddess? The patron of all mortals?”
“Well yes.” The rider took rag and wiped off the spilled water on the table. “She’s the mother of all dragons. Amjazel is the youngest of Tiamat’s direct children. One of four that are still alive.”
“I didn’t- I knew they were descended but-” Arxet tripped over his words. First generation dragons were like demigods. The closer someone’s position in the bloodline was to Tiamat the stronger the dragon was.
The sound of wingbeats turned his attention to the courtyard. Was she breaking tradition? Was he being thrown out for his rudeness?
“Oh that must be Rubis.” Emren stood and leaned against the huge window to the courtyard. A crimson red dragon about two thirds the size of Amjazel was lowering itself into the courtyard with careful slow flaps of its wings. When it was low enough it tucked its wings and its massive talons struck the bricks with a THOOM before it swung its head in Arxet and Emren’s direction. Arxet spotted a bundle tucked in its teeth.
It folded its wings in close and padded over to the window. Emren stood up and hugged its snout as it approached. She planted a kiss on one of its nostrils, and in response it dropped the bundle and licked her face. The bundle hit the floor below the window with a clatter and a clank. Whatever was inside was metal.
“Arxet, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Rubis. Rubis, this is Arxet.” She picked up the bundle and placed it behind Arxet. “I sent her out with some coin and that blade of yours earlier this morning. I don’t know where you found that antique but it was in some dire need of maintenance. It should be sharpened up now.”
Arxet waved at the massive crimson head that had come to occupy half the kitchen. She was small enough that the entire space wasn’t taken up, as it likely would be if Amjazel were to use the opening. Rubis squeezed further inside, stretching her neck out as far as she could to get a foot from Arxet for a couple of deep sniffs. He flinched at the hot wet breaths washing over him. He was half expecting another tongue bath, but after a moment Rubis backed out and rested her head on the cushions around the window.
“She’s harmless, Arxet. Well- not harmless. But she wouldn’t hurt you. Amjazel and I invited you here, so she wouldn’t hurt you.” She tossed the last stuffed bread roll at the dragon, who snapped it from the air greedily.
“Yeah. I figured. I just didn’t want another tongue bath.” Daughter? A dragon? Likely best not to pry. He turned to the bundle and began unwrapping it. It was too big for just a dagger. As the fabric came unraveled he realized it wasn’t just a bag, it was a set of armor wrapped around the sheathed blade at the center. The dagger looked brand new again. Its edge was at a fine point, its bronze sheen returned to its prime, and the pommel had been cleaned and re-engraved so the dragon and lamb were clearer than ever. Thank Tiamat they probably didn’t realize it was stolen.
“The armor might need some adjusting, but we have a few days. It’s mostly leather and bronze mail, but the joints and vitals have some dragon scale underneath. Some are Am’s, some are Rubis and her sister’s.” Emren unfurled it further and layed it out for Arxet to examine. “They won’t be visible unless someone cuts through the outer layers.”
Rubis from the window made some sort of huffing sound. She seemed very pleased with herself for contributing.
“You’re really gonna trust me with this?” He ran his hand over the leather until he could feel a scale beneath, and gently squeezed to get a sense of the size and shape of it beneath. “You know I’m-”
“A thief? Yes. It was obvious in the town square. But Am and I both see people like you and recognize potential for a second chance. It’s why you’re here.” She reached out and patted Arxet’s hand over the scale. “I’m guessing you stole the dagger too, but its yours now. Make something good out of it, please.”
The thief gulped. These people could really see straight through him. And yet they chose to trust him? What the hell was this? What game were they playing? There was no way they were actually planning on actually ‘rehabilitating’ him or whatever, was there? “Sure, you can try and give me a second chance or whatever. But everyone else will just see this.” He pointed at his brow where the coldmark still sat.
“Well…” Emren paused some at that. Coldmarks were definitely harder to overcome in Ti’Avalian society than a criminal record. “The ministry’s official position is that it’s just from exposure to cold magic, and you don’t have any kind of actual connection to ice serpents or Ninazu…”
“The ministry’s official position. Pah.” He dropped the armor back to the floor. “People go to the sermons and the festivals but the priests don’t talk about us there! Just about Tiamat’s love and shit! They never actually talk about the problems people like me have! So everyone just keeps on hating me for it!”
Emren paused. “Yes, I suppose you have a point. But now could be your time to prove people wrong.”
“And why’s that gotta be my job? I get lost in a blizzard once as a kid and now I have to convince assholes for the rest of my life that I’m not filled to the gills with evil cold magic? Or that I’m not some kind of secret ice monster in rat form?” He was seething. He’d heard the ‘prove them wrong’ line too many times already.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She took one of Arxet’s hands and clasped both of her own over it. “It shouldn’t be your job. It isn’t fair, but-”
“But the world isn’t fair.” He pulled his own hand back. “Yeah, I know. I figured that out a long time ago. Whatever. At least I’ll have a rider’s helm for when I’m out, I guess.”
Emren smiled like she knew something he didn’t. “There is a helmet in the armor I had made for you. Most of the set used to be mine, but the helmet is newly made, just for you. It even covers your face. You can wear it as much as you like. I was also going to give you a little spending money, let you enjoy the city! Fellrock has some excellent food. Just try to actually enjoy it for me.”
Spending money? What was he, ten? “Mm. I guess. How much you got?”
She slid five gold across the table to him. Five shiny new sparkling gold coins. More money than he’d ever seen in one place, even with his noble parents. His mouth watered at the sight. “F-five gold? Isn’t that-”
“If you feel guilty you don’t have to-”
He swiped all five into his palm and pockets them before she can finish. “No, I don’t know the meaning of the word ‘guilt’. I just can’t believe you’ll give me all that.”
“My wife is Tiamat’s daughter. We can spare it, even if you blow it all.” She smirked and began cleaning up after their meal.
Wait. Wife? She did call Rubis her daughter… “Wait, you two are-”
“Wives, yes.” She smirked. “Other races always intermarry, why wouldn’t dragons?”
“How do- how do you even-” He was beginning to imagine things he probably shouldn’t.
“Best not ask.” She grabbed the broom and continued working. “The exit out to the city is out through the courtyard. Enjoy yourself! Try to put on the armor sooner than later so that we can make adjustments if we need. If you’re not back by nightfall then I’ll have Rubis go out and make sure you’re safe and bring you back if you need.”
Rubis made an affirmative rumble from her window.
“Cool. Curfew enforced by dragon.” He grabbed the armor and stalked back up to his room.