At the Altar of Dragons

Session 32 | Chapter 3

I am alive. I know I am alive because the first thing I feel is pain–pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Every inch, every joint, everything to my very core aches.

But, I am alive.

My skin burns; it feels like I have a windburn, but worse. Worse because it’s my entire body. My skin is tight, pulling against my frame as I simply try to breathe. My mouth is dry, the taste of ash and something more acrid on the back of my tongue. I try to open my mouth to ask for water, but the skin on my lips pull, stuck together and ripping the more I continue. My body feels overwhelmingly and undeniably dry, almost ashen and petrified.

But, I am alive.

I know I am alive because beneath the feeling that every ounce of liquid in my body has been sucked out of me is an ache like after a battle. There’s no part of me that isn’t aching. The only differentiator in this moment is a stabbing pain that pulses through my body with each shallow breath.

But, I am breathing.

My surroundings begin to take form, my consciousness more present in my body as I slowly wake from whatever nightmare occurred. My memory comes in flashes–the dojo, training with Markus, trading punches. The last flash is of Markus standing above me, his foot coming down to connect with my head.

Groaning, I attempt to sit up. The movement is laborious and my arms shake as I press away from the floor. The blanket that was apparently draped over me starts to slip off my shoulder.

A hand reaches up and pulls the fabric up to cover me, scratching and pulling as it slides across my skin. Another hand reaches across my body and supports my torso as I come to a seated position, leaning against a wooden wall.

My lids scrape against my dry eyes as I try to open them, and the sunlight blinds me briefly. I wince–first from the bright light and second from the pain that shoots through my arms and back. My head lolls to the side and I see a hint of purple hair next to me through the tiny visual I can manage.

“Markus!” she calls.

It sounds like she’s miles away but also too loud at the same time. She adjusts the blanket over me once more, murmuring quietly. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but her tone is comforting and a smile twitches at the corner of my mouth.

My eyes flutter open a little more as Markus’ form comes over to where Layna and I are seated. As my vision focuses, I realize we’re now outside the dojo, seated on the little porch in his meditation garden. The air feels fresher here and being surrounded by a small oasis of nature eases the anxiety scratching at my mind.

As the monk comes to crouch in front of me, I groan, “What did you hit me with?” My throat is raw, causing my voice to be scratchy and weak.

A small sound comes from Layna, but she stops before forming any words. Markus looks at her and nods quietly. “Go ahead.”

“Maire,” she begins, fear undertoning her words. “Besides bowing and the phrase, we can add another thing to the list of things not to do. You can’t go down, okay?” She pauses briefly, then quickly adds, “Everyone’s okay–”

Markus cuts her off, “I understand what you’re doing Layna, but you need to be honest here.” He looks at me, expression serious and tone direct. “I knocked your ass out, and you caused that.” He holds a hand up, gesturing to the dojo behind us.

“I was about to say that,” Layna protests.

“There’s no reason to pussyfoot around,” he states.

As they bicker, I angle my body to allow me to see what Markus pointed at. I don’t know exactly what I thought I would see when I turned around, but a gaping hole of destruction where the dojo used to stand would not have been my guess.

I blink my eyes, unable to accept that what I’m seeing is real. The front of the dojo — the entry and most of the training room —is wide open, and nothing but a spherical void is left. At the edges of the destruction, the beams, walls, and floor look as though they’ve been eaten away, almost melted.

“I did that?” I exclaim quietly, coughing as my voice strains.

Markus doesn’t answer my question. Instead, in a far too-calm voice he states, “Thankfully, her weird friend pulled your little buddy out.”

“Is he okay?” I snap, fear and guilt blooming in my chest. My eyes dart immediately in the direction that Markus’ head jerked, where I see Lendys lying on his side. He’s still in his platinum drake form, breathing slow and peaceful despite the damage to his hide.

“He’s fine,” Markus responds.

Just after, Layna confirms, “Everyone is fine.”

Markus’ mouth forms a line as he looks at Layna unimpressed. “You took the brunt of it,” he grumbles.

I release a shuddering breath and lay my head back against the wall, closing my eyes and saying a silent thanks to Bahamut. I have no idea what sort of trance Bahamut has Lendys under, or what they’re talking about in Nirvana right now, but his body is safe–a little harmed, but safe nonetheless.

My gaze trails back over the devastation, then my companions, noting the way Markus’ pants have a couple holes in them now, and Layna’s normally put together attire is in tatters. I realize the blanket around me is to shield the fact that I’m nearly nude, with my clothes melted and hanging in shreds from my body. My brain can’t fathom how I caused this, and guilt overwhelms me. “How–” I squeak out, brows creased. “That’s how they brainwashed me?”

“Seems like it,” Markus smirks and folds his arms across his body.

“I just thought you killed people,” Layna shakes her head. “Turns out I wasn’t entirely wrong.”

This garners a chuckle out of Markus and he quips, “Yeah, she’d kill anyone in the fucking area. Sixty foot godsdammed–”

My head pounds and I rub my hands across my face, trying to relieve some of the pressure. At the sudden movement, my shoulders scream and my arms shake. “Gods, everything hurts,” I groan.

Layna leans close to me, placing her hand delicately on my back, and asks, “Do you need anything?”

Markus chuckles, “A fucking exorcism is what you need.”

I shake my head, trying not to laugh while the seriousness of this situation hangs over me. “How do we make this not happen again?”

“Don’t get knocked out,” Markus replies.

“Ever,” Layna punctuates his response.

I hug the blanket around me tighter and pull my knees into my chest. My thoughts are racing, spinning over how this happened without my knowledge. How many others in the conclave are like this, and how has this never happened to me before? Despite every thought plaguing my mind, the Priest’s presence is nowhere to be found. His inky, looming figure would usually revel in a situation like this, elated at the opportunity to remind me of my failures, remind me of my shortcomings or the ways I could fail those around me.

But there is nothing but silence and emptiness–my mind is inhabited only by my own voice and thoughts. Somehow his lack of presence is more terrifying in this moment than if he was sitting right beside me.

“No, I mean permanently,” I clarify, clenching my jaw and lifting my gaze to meet theirs.

The silence that now hangs between our trio is nearly as unnerving as the Priest’s silence. I bury my face in my hands, wanting nothing more than to escape this knowledge, to remove this influence that the conclave has left on me. Eventually, Markus shrugs and ponders, “I don’t know. Maybe a wish?”

My head snaps up at this, stunned by his words. “What?”

“A wish,” He repeats. “You could find a wizard. Wish it away.”

My gaze drifts to my hands where they grip the blanket like it’s a lifeline, knowing what’s on my hand, hidden beneath the fabric. Just above a whisper, I mutter, “Or use a ring?”

A memory replays behind my eyes–I had a blanket wrapped around me, holding me together from a very different type of bone deep hurt. That morning after I learned of Lendys’ deceit; him telling me the ring he gave me in that last ‘Bahamut’ vision was a ring with the ability to grant me one wish.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

At the time, I didn’t know what to do with a wish. I still don’t. Lendys had made a comment about wishing for the contract to be broken, wishing that only he dies. That statement shocked me so deeply at that time. I was beyond angry, but it was anger fueled by hurt and grief–I wanted my best friend back. Not for him to die or to break whatever contract we share.

Even in this moment, with this new information brought to light, there has to be a way to rid myself of this condition outside of using a wish. I’ve never used one before or spoken with someone who has, but I know they are volatile in nature. There has to be a way to remove this programming from my mind in a more definitive way.

Bahamut–maybe he could… My thoughts trail off, unsure, but I want to have faith that maybe the god could help.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, Markus replies, “The problem is that wishes aren’t liable to work.”

“Why?” Layna asks, still sitting beside me with her arm around my shoulders. The concern and fear in her voice are still present, and it makes the knot in my stomach twist.

“Vernacular of the way the wish is said,” Markus grunts. “Also, it just naturally has a chance to not work.”

Nodding my head, I accept that the ring Lendys gave me is not the best course of action to help with this condition. Everything I’ve learned and taught myself has been through hard work and tireless training–seems like this will be no different.

“We could write it carefully–really think about the words we’re using,” Layna affirms, squeezing me a little tighter to encourage me.

“No,” I sigh, “No–I just don’t die.”

“That too,” Markus confirms, pursing his lips and nodding.

Looking at Layna, I meet her worried expression. “I’ve done pretty well so far,” I attempt to reassure her.

“Until now,” she says, raising her voice.

“That was just knocking her out.”

I fight to not glare at the monk’s comment, so I focus on Layna. I stammer, “Well, th-this was intentional. It was part of training.” Surely, she of all people would understand this.

“There will be no more sparring,” she declares.

And just like that, she doesn’t understand. How–how can she of all people–not understand how I want to handle this? That I need to handle this in my own way?

“No there will be,” Markus says before I have a chance, but I’m sure my face betrays the surprise and hurt from that comment. Layna groans in protest, and Markus adds, “I just won’t take it that far.”

I nudge her side, the movement feeling less achy as we continue to rest. When Layna turns her attention back to me, I smile and say, “This is another good reason for me to have the periapt.”

“Yeah that is good,” Layna nods, seeming to work that coincidence over in her mind. Months ago, when Perona picked out this pendant for me, things were so different. My feelings for her were so new, and this was one of the first signs to me that maybe she cared. She gave me a necklace that helped me to not die for gods’ sake! Now, the realization that this gesture is going to protect my party, those closest to me, I’m more thankful for it than ever.

I smirk, feeling a little lightness restored in me with the reminder of the periapt’s protection. “He flicked me on the nose and did that,” I tell Layna, smirking with a glimmer of mischief in my eyes.

“What the fuck?” she shouts, turning to glare at Markus. A devious smile spreads across my face.

The monk protests, “Technically, I kicked her in the chin.”

“Flicked me on the nose,” I repeat.

Layna turns to me, mouth agape, but then she narrows her eyes as she holds my state. “Sure,” she replies skeptically.

I chuckle lightly and pull my hand out from under the blanket to make a flicking motion, punctuating it with a click of my tongue.

Layna shakes her head, her frosty purple hair falling around her face. After a deep breath, she declares, “Okay, we should go get the others.”

My eyes drift back over to where Lendys is still incapacitated. Quietly, I ask, “When is he waking up?”

“I don’t know,” Markus says plainly.

Looking back to Layna, I state, “I’m not going anywhere without him.”

“I know,” she replies solemnly. Then, almost as if the realization of my training and the lack of a dojo hits her, Layna gasps, “Where are you even going to train her? You don’t even have a fucking dojo anymore!”

I roll my eyes, ignoring her comment, and gesture over towards my pack. “The sending stone is in there. Use it to call them.”

Layna moves over to the bag, and pulls out the small stone with runes that instill the magic into it. Her mouth forms a thin line as she looks from me to Markus. Her anxiety is clear right now–the fear of not knowing what the other group in our party has faced over the last couple hours is torturous. But I am still moving slowly, and with Lendys unconscious, we aren’t in any shape to go out and find them at this moment.

Markus, undeterred by Layna’s feelings, scoffs, “Do you not think she could just punch shit like a normal fucking person? Also, you don’t even know how I train my students.” He shakes his head, and shifts his weight from foot to foot.

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “I thought he trained you?”

Layna pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, “He did…”

“As a bodyguard,” Markus interjects, “Not as a fucking monk. Those are two totally different disciplines.”

“Makes sense,” I muse, then more seriously add, “So, do you think I can use meditation to help with this exploding situation?”

He sighs and thinks for a moment before replying. “I don’t believe so, no. I’d say to seek understanding through Bahamut. You might be able to find out what’s going on that way.”

“Okay,” I reason, “At least he’s talking to me now.”

“Or–” Markus continues, “You could find out what the fuck you are.”

I jerk my head up and scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gives me a look like that was the stupidest question I could have asked. “That’s not normal,” he states.

“None of this is normal!” I retort, “Until yesterday, I thought I worshipped Bahamut my whole life!”

“To each their own. I don’t judge,” he says, shrugging, “You should probably get some rest.”

I pull the blanket tighter around me, and lean into the wall a little more. The fabric against my skin isn’t as irritating, and my movements don’t feel like stones grinding against each other.

Before she leaves, Layna grabs her waterskin and hands it to me. “Here. Have some of this,” she instructs.

Taking a drink from the waterskin, I’m immediately hit with a burning liquid, tearing its way down my still raw throat. I cough against the irritation and choke out, “Why is this alcohol??”

Layna shrugs, a bright smile on her face as she muses, “Numbs the pain?”

“You still have a problem,” Markus observes, then shoos her, “You should go try to speak to your friends.”

Layna nods and walks to the far end of the porch. My eyes lazily fall closed, taking this moment to rest and recoup some of my strength lost during my apparent explosion.

A few moments later, Layna rushes over to us, the fear in her eyes at a whole new level. “We’ve got to go,” Layna declares, “Now!”

With my head still resting against the wall behind me, I evenly reply, “I’m staying here. He hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Maire…” she pleads.

Markus scoffs, “Layna, use your fucking words. What happened?”

She shakes her head and explains, “Morden and the Western Queen have their sending stone.”

“Okay,” Markus hums, “That’s pretty bad actually.”

“We need to go,” Layna repeats.

Markus moves over to her, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder. “I don’t think it would actually help right now.”

“Perona is there,” she pleads once more, eyes beginning to well with tears.

“And they’re playing with her,” Markus affirms. “I can’t leave here. Plus, are you going to get your other friend before you leave?”

Layna’s gaze is far away, but the task presented to her by Markus seems to focus her in this moment. “Yes, I’m going to get Raesh, and then…then we’ll figure something out.” She meets my eyes and states, “I hope Lendys wakes up soon.”

I do too.

Outwardly, I nod. “Go get Raesh. I’ll be here.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

While Layna goes across the street to pull Raesh off of whatever escort he was given for name dropping Markus, the monk directs me down the hall and to the room he said had “clothes and shit.” I’ve rifled around most of the chests and armoires in the room already, and I manage to cobble together the few items that appear like they could fit me. The clothes I was wearing earlier are unsalvageable, and currently lay in a heap on the floor beside the foot of a full length mirror.

My hand drifts to my abdomen, the skin marked by old scars from old foes, but there’s also a giant sickly purple bruise blooming across my stomach. My skin no longer feels like its burning thanks to the water that Markus shared with me after Layna astral stepped away to the Pleasure Palace. However, when my fingers brush the bruised area, pain shoots throughout my abdomen and my face contorts in pain.

“Rest–more rest and I’ll be fine,” I mutter to myself, pulling the sleeveless black shirt on and hiding the bruises and scars on my torso. I tuck the hem into the waistband of a pair of loose green, linen pants that should allow me more freedom of movement as I train with Markus than my previous, more heavy duty pants for traveling.

Finally, I cinch a leather armor piece around my waist and chest, tightening it as much as possible to support my ribs, but not to restrict my movement. I stare at myself in the mirror, taking in the sight of me in this new clothing and armor – none of this came from the conclave. It’s new and fresh, sending a wave of excitement and freedom through my body.

My eyes drift to my forearm, which is still exposed. I’d pulled out a set of leather bracers that would match the rest of the items I’m already wearing. They’d hide the scars if I wanted them to. I hold my gaze unblinking on the runes, a battle waging within my heart of what to do in this moment.

“They did a little bit of warding…” Bahamut’s words replay in my mind, and I set my jaw. I pull on the small leather gloves and leave the bracers where they sit on the table.