《The Dragon's great city of gold.》


 Town Raid

    **


    Breaking through the trees was the echo of two unmistakable emotions; no sentient life would mistake it for anything but great misery tipped with a certain despair, and the other sound was a boundless joy that puffed up its chest to brag about its boundless future.


    The scent of trees and wet grass after the thick but life-bringing showers of rain last night was snuffed out and smothered today under the scent of smoke, heavy metal, and blood. The light of the sun was broken in the corners by the shadows cast by the trees having secret meetings with the light of the fire from the raid.


    The town of Ansvil was attacked last night. Two spindly-legged elven siblings hid on the outskirts of town, rationalizing why it was moral for them to break from their family and run. If one was to be honest, their choices were run and die or stay and die. In the end, the sister was the first to make her decision, even if she didn''t accept it, as she started to sneak away. When the brother saw this, his instincts led him on, and soon the two were following his lead¡ªrunning away, hiding at times to make sure they weren''t being pursued.


    After forty minutes, they found that they were. Three orcs came galloping like wild boars up behind them, spotting them mid-run from hiding spot to hiding spot. The creatures had long limbs and were taller than the elves. They also had muscles that made it impossible for them to hide themselves, as they were wider than the trees.


    They carried simple swords and axes, had long hair pulled back over their scalps and tied into knots or tails. The armor they wore was made of scrap metal, turned into hundreds of plates and then arranged over their arms, legs, and necks like fish scales. Their chests were bare, but each one held a thick, round wooden or wicker shield that was dented and clearly well-tested in battle. They didn''t wear helmets, as they were hard to forge, and other than dwarven ones, they never found helmets from the people they raided that fit orc heads.


    Because of this, when the orcs saw the Elven adolescents, they raised their shields over their eyes and heads, screamed like beasts, and then charged blindly like bulls. One orc collided into a tree, breaking his momentum but shattering his way through the tree in a feat of strength the elves would not be able to manage.


    The siblings, however, were not without merit of their own. Seeing this happen, the elven brother drew a thick wooden hunting bow from his shoulder and fired an arrow at the leg of the orc. The elf had over 13 arrows with him¡ªenough to kill each one¡ªbut even still, he waited to take his shots, as he knew he didn''t have the time to go back and collect them.


    The arrow hit the orc in the leg, breaking through the armor and getting lodged inside. Each time the elf shot his arrows, he did so without slowing down at all, firing backward at full sprint. This only seemed to anger the orc, as unlike the tree, it didn''t slow him down at all.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    It struck at the brother elf''s morale, but taking another shot at the orc, this time he hit it just below the shield in the waist. This area would usually be protected by the shield, but because it was raised so the orcs wouldn''t be hit where it counted by the arrows they had come to expect from the elves, it was left open.


    The elven sister was approached by another orc. This one seemed larger and tougher than the other two and had run out in front. She darted behind a tree as it charged, being loud in ways that elves simply aren''t. As she moved, the orc heard and followed unthinkingly into tree after tree.


    Screaming out in anger, it dropped its shield from its face, forgetting the valid reason it held it up, where an arrow from the brother quickly reminded it with the last lesson it would ever learn in its life, as an arrow found its way through the eye of the orc, killing it then and there.


    He killed another one that lost itself in rage seeing its comrade die, deciding to try and throw its weapon at the girl, who darted safely behind a tree. However, in doing that, it had opened itself up, and that opening was taken advantage of when an arrow found its way into that orc''s throat.


    Panic set in quickly. As it started to flail around, struggling to breathe, another arrow struck the orc in the head, and it died. This gave new life to the elven brother, whose hopes of victory rose just in time for the orc with an arrow through the waist to demonstrate the sheer vitality of orcs that made them so intimidating, as it caught up and tackled him to the ground.


    The elf hit his head and was quite dizzy, quickly being mounted by the orc, who raised his sword to strike down the elf for good.


    "NOO!" At the scream of the sister, his last living family, he raised his bow to defend himself, using it as a shield.


    Thwack! Thwack!


    Two quick attacks from the orc¡ªthe first one cut halfway through the bow, and the second cut off his fingers that gripped it, causing it to fall from his hands to his chest. Screaming in victory, the orc raised its sword up high and got lost in the moment just in time for the sister to plunge a fallen orc''s sword straight through the orc''s eye, dropping his sword in the process.


    As the strength fell from its arms, it found just enough to grab her by the arm and swing her into a nearby tree, splintering wood and splitting her head open so that red blood ran through her blond hair. It was in the way a brute would swing a stray cat.


    Then, reaching down for its own sword to kill the woman''s brother in a last moment of cherished violence.


    The two wrestled for the sword, but the elf found he had no fingers to grasp anything, so he fought simply to keep it from the orc''s hands. In what felt like an eternity to the elf, the orc lost its strength and then succumbed to its wound, falling face first.


    It was a challenge simply to get the orc off him, but after doing so, he went over to check his sister. She was bleeding badly but could live, even walk but she was clearly suffering and had taken a strong blow to her ability to concentrate. His fingers meant he could no longer hold a bow or draw back an arrow; she was in no position to fight as she balled up into him, squirming under the pain.


    Still, they pressed on, not looking back in the direction of their village, knowing no help could be found there, as their home was dead.


    **

 Battle

    Their journey through the once homely trees was a slog, mud clogged up their pace like how one''s lungs would clog if filled with tar, but they moved without break, having nearly been caught by a night search party of four.


    The orcs clearly knew someone had escaped, but whether they were motivated to dedicate a day''s journey to hunt two down or if they knew it was only two that had escaped in this journey would decide if the two siblings would live a lot more than any effort they put up in the face of destiny.


    The trees started to thin out sometime just before dawn, and now they were approaching the end of the forest. Beyond was a grassland where not much grew. To the left of them would be the heart of a mountain range off into the distance that would spill down right, and to the right would be the grassland, wide open with no place to hide. There would be nothing to eat but field mice on the grassland unless they stole from some human herders, but all humans on the grasslands were raiders, merchants, and herders, and they were all three in one at all times.


    Despite this, they had no intention of heading up the mountain, into the heartland of a monster.


    Their town was on the Elven periphery, but the tree line was the true boundary between what the Elves called the ''Varsee'' and the ''Amsee,'' or the ''halfway'' and the ''far gone''. In Elvish faith the world tree was the center, and the further away from that you moved, the crueler and less kind the cosmic order. Despite this, it was against Elven nature to group up and share. Prideful and arrogant as they were, it was not uncommon for Elven scholars to spend 700 years researching a particular interest and then burning any chance another elf could find their discoveries. Even more common was that a scholar would die having never written down any findings at all, only sharing parts by word of mouth to brag and demonstrate his research was true.


    The Elves broke themselves down into two groups off this: the high elves, who gathered around the world tree and shared at least by word of mouth vast magical knowledge, and the wood elves, who lived throughout the forests and woods connected to the world tree. However, it was strongly known that wood elves were more in tune with nature and had stronger physiques. They were, oddly enough, more social, as all society in wood elf culture was optional, with the exception of children to parent and sibling to sibling.


    Humans didn''t have this quality, as they were often forced together with people they disliked or bound to tribes. The result was that most wood elves, especially, were kind and friendly, and most humans were nasty.


    The Elves hid in a patch of tall grass. However, their injuries and fatigue led to them doing so in a clumsy way. When they poked their eyes out to see what their instincts had told them was there, they saw a human convoy gathered around a shared cart. However, that cart was stopped. Human warriors, about seven, dressed in thick leathers, furs, heavy boots, and metal caps and trailed by curious goats, came up from the group.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    They looked around warily and seemed hesitant to pass the first tree until a goat ran over to the elven brother hiding in the tree. Seeing that he was revealed, he stood up to take the momentum, something his sister couldn''t understand, so she panicked and drew the orc weapon. The sound of a sword being drawn and a man appearing who had been watching them put the warriors on edge.


    The goat continued on up to the elf and started to try and lick at the wounds where his fingers had been. The elf flicked his hand and commanded the goat to return. All animals listened to elves, except when the elves went out intending to hunt them. As if they had been told beforehand that the elves were hostile, they would flee instead. Even for the elves, this experience was magical.


    But the two didn''t have time to revel in it now. Instead, they were now staring down a human tribe. The weapons they used were spears, clearly for hunting and prodding along the animals they grazed. What seemed like a leader among the humans took a cautious step forward and then another.


    Over what felt like a full day''s hard work, the human came close enough up to the elf before he was stopped by the elf, who took a fighting stance. Then slowly, once calming down, the human reached out and gently grasped the elf''s hand to inspect the wounds. Then reached up to touch at the elf''s ears before hurrying back to the tribe.


    The elven brother was shocked by how easily the human had shown his back and was confused. Turning to look where his peripheral vision could catch his sister without giving her away, he hoped he looked for clues, as only she between the two of them could speak human.


    He turned his attention back to the humans, who had gathered around what looked to the elves to be an ancient human. He had the saggy and wrinkly skin that elves get when they break a thousand years of age. They were shocked to find humans could live that long, and that ancient human brought over the goat from before, with a quick, practiced stroke cut open the guts of the animal as the humans watched, and then consulted with its innards, not that the elves could tell what he was doing.


    The elven sister heard something like ''The gods! The gods!'' and then the ancient human, alongside two little human girls, came over. The elves would have laughed at how clumsy the three moved through the forest, and then with gentle hands started to guide them back, using waves and hand gestures instead of words. They also showed that they knew where the sister was, waving at her hiding place.


    Soon, the two elves were before the human crowd. Various hands from the non-warriors touched and prodded them, pinching their ears, and one woman carrying an infant pinched at the elven sister''s chest. The elves found it very intrusive and humiliating and turned to leave, feeling no threat from the humans, when they were beckoned to the cart.


    Looking at each other, they decided to approach the cart. The smiling faces of the humans, with the warriors dissipating from their group to go do small tasks here and there, had already largely put the fears of the two siblings at ease.


    Then, once they were close to the cart, the elves were shown how to get in, not that they would have needed help. They followed suit. There wasn''t a human in the group that the elven brother would need to look down at to see their eyes. That, and the innate pride of the elves, left him feeling overconfident about whether he could respond to anything the humans had in plan.


    But after a while, the elves sat down as they were beckoned, and then the cart was away. Realizing the humans intended to give them a ride, they relaxed.

 The domain of monsters with red wings.

    Up close, the elves realized that they were both easily head and shoulders taller than each human. Humans, at this point, were something of a novelty to the elven people, much less to these two siblings. They were considered an inferior elven-like creature that lived in the far gone. They aged quicker, were smaller and weaker. They had no great talent like the elves, but it was well known that an ancient elven prince once bested an enemy warthog charge with human spearmen who had been hired as mercenaries. It was also known that recently some humans on the grassland had started trying to ride horses and be like the centaur.


    To the south of elven lands, far away from the east where they were going, it was said that humans had learned in the last three hundred years to connect something called a chariot to two small horses and have it pull them around a battlefield, where they could shoot arrows or throw spells and spears without being touched or hit by others. It was also said that humans had become incredible at metalwork, but only with the metal called bronze that they seemed to obsess over.


    It was said that the best smith of a generation among the humans could match a dwarf, a hard feat even for elves. One that the elves said earned them respect from a number of peoples and mockery from the dwarves.


    The humans were dirty by the siblings'' standards, but not like animals that completely disregarded the notion of cleanliness. Seeing the group travel away, and knowing that there would be no allowing the siblings to escape again if the orcs caught up, he decided to press himself and his sister to get as much sleep as they could.


    He would keep an ear out and stay awake first, which he did. Using the sun in the sky, he judged that he gave his sister about three hours of rest, a good amount for an elf in need. So he woke her gently and went to sleep himself, but unfortunately for them, and in an action that would change their destiny, she slipped back into sleep without realizing it.


    Before he went to sleep, the ancient human, alongside the two girls, fixed bandages to his hand. Thinking about them, the elf took a coin from a pocket on the inside of his rags. Coins were also something humans invented, so he assumed they would like it. But after giving it to the young girl, it was clear to him that she had no idea what it was. Her eyes seemed to wrap around the coin as she played with it in her hand.


    When the ancient human saw that the elf was asleep, he made his way over after signaling for the girls to be silent and spoke first to the woman who was carrying the infant to make sure she was okay, and then inspected the animals pulling the cart. Smiling brilliantly at the contraption his tribe had taken in a war, he lost himself in a moment of nostalgia.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Then, turning his head back in the direction he came from, his face shifted like a curse, and he scowled at the horizon. Then, turning his attention to his hopes, he waved over his eldest son and the new leader of the tribe since he had lost that battle. With a gesture to his mouth to be silent for the elves, he pointed at the mountain, and they nodded.


    Understanding the signal, the humans changed course and started to circle around towards the mountain. After half a day''s travel, they had made record time after the ground had dried and the mud was long gone. Before the elves had gone to sleep, the humans had started to travel away from the forest, neither towards nor away from the grassland.


    Now, however, they made for a straight line away from both the forest and the grassland and up the mountain. Finding a pass and a shallow river, they crossed it. They considered making camp here just past the river but decided to carry on. However, first, they chose to leave the cart behind.


    They didn''t abandon it. Instead, they left the weak, the children, and about three warriors behind, taking the rest alongside the ancient human, who was actually 56 winters old¡ªthe oldest human his tribe believed they had ever met¡ªplus the rest of the warriors and his eldest son to lead them. They followed the river, making sure to do their best to keep dry up the mountain.


    Eventually, they came to a much heavier river than before, and once again they consulted with the signs. Just beyond that river was a massive and dark cave, up a hill so it would be nice and dry too. Looking at the cave, the ancient human decided that would be the perfect place to set up camp, and it was easily large enough to fit the entire tribe in just the entrance.


    Deciding on what to do, they pulled up the cart to where they were. Two of the strong men stripped their clothes off and swam to the other side, pulling ropes they got from the cart. A mixture of reed bundles made from stuff in the river, and bladder sacks from animals that were blown up with hot air from human lungs, were attached to the cart. Knowing from experience that if the load was light enough the cart would float, they attached the ropes on their side.


    It was at this moment when a horn was blown from behind them. Immediately, the elves sat up in panic. Taking the sword off his sister to use with his one good hand, the elven brother leapt to his feet, taking in his situation.


    When he realized he had been brought up to the mountains, he paled. But the thump of orc feet pounding dirt threw that fear off in place of another one. Looking over at the cart and the now lined-up human warriors, who themselves were panicked or praying, he saw the eldest son, or who he thought to be the human leader, throw supplies off the cart and, alongside the non-combatants, push it towards the river.


    His sister soon helped him too, pushing alongside, clearly seeing the river as the barrier between danger and safety. Everyone knew what needed to be done.

 River Side Struggle

    The orcs were led by a massive feral one, tusks instead of teeth and countless scars showing experience, greying hair meaning he would soon die and so was seeking ''final glories'' as is the orc way. Once again, they had that fish scale-like armor around their legs, arms, and necks, and big meaty wooden and wicker shields to protect them.


    The leader also had a large bronze shield, with metal stubs connecting it to a thicker-than-average wooden frame underneath that could make for a shield all on its own, demented and broken in ways that can only come from battle.


    The humans lined up in a half-circle formation, cutting the elven siblings out. The elven sister picked up a spare spear, one that must have been used by one of the men who swam across earlier. The two of them were now pulling the ropes that had been attached to the cart.


    The sound of snapping was heard. It was hard to tell if it came from bone or wood as the orc frontrunner had flung a spear of his own into the cart¡ªit was a remarkable throw. As the axe collided with the cart, it caused the girls to start screaming, which woke the infant, and that seemed to echo far and wide, alerting anything nearby to their presence.


    The elven siblings hoped there would be no orcs on the other side of the river, as there were more orcs on this side than they could count under the duress, meaning there were easily too many for them to defeat in battle with five humans. With a great shout, the elven sister threw her spear in retaliation.


    However, the orcs made no move to slow down their charge even as one was impaled and nailed to the ground by the clean throw. Instead, the impaled orc first clawed at the spear to try and get free and then threw its weapons impotently, as if throwing a tantrum when it realized it would die.


    Some of the women of the tribe had abandoned the cart and jumped into the water to try and swim, and others had found new strength to push harder¡ªthe type that you can only find when it''s truly do or die.


    The human warriors came back to almost hugging the cart with their backs. The women started screaming at the men to be brave, almost threatening them with tales of what the orcs do to captured women. The children screamed and cried. Some thought briefly of trying to drown the little girls so they could escape the horrible fate that awaited them in capture.


    Of the women trying to swim, some were immediately caught by the currents and dragged under, no one the wiser to their deaths in the chaos. Others made it across and then turned to shout encouragements and insults at the men pulling the ropes, desperation and worry for those who hadn''t crossed the river.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The ancient human, knowing he would not be much help in a fight, grabbed the two girls and decided to risk swimming across with them. Just as he made it into the water, the cart collided with the water, and the orcs collided with the men. In moments, three of the five were cut down, and four more were run through.


    Only one spear didn''t find its mark, and that was because it shattered on the thick, heavy bronze shield of the orc leader. The spear belonged to the eldest son, who was tackled into the cart, shaking it and threatening to tip the cart over, throwing all who couldn''t swim to their deaths.


    The orcs would not be able to cross in their heavy metal armor, and this was shown as the ones who were thrown into the water by their own momentum soon drowned, grasping at women to try and drown together.


    Just as the cart looked to reach the point of no return and tip over completely, the elf brother leapt up, using his own weight to balance things and swing the dead orc''s sword at the head of his foe. _Thwack!_ It struck clean and bounced off the skull. Twisting and swinging at the elf brother in retaliation, he was cut up the side and fell into the water, floating with elven grace, and soon in his sister''s arms, the elf was carried across as the eldest son took the one chance he would get and used the broken half of the spear to press down on the orc''s throat, wrestling to get on top and then choking him.


    But the orc''s weapon found purchase under the spear, stabbing up and into the man''s ribs as he screamed. The eldest son screamed back. The orc''s eyes started to fade as the man''s guts fell from his stomach, the uniquely rotten stench of insides smothering the chiseled abs of the orc.


    Even still, the man held strong, not letting the life leave him until he was sure the orc had lost his. He pushed so hard he shattered the orc''s throat, and then the spear disappeared as it snaped in two in his final moments, now unaware of his surroundings and too bloodied to tell he had won, as he died in despair. He died thinking, ''his younger brothers had all died at the last battle his tribe faced... he was the last hope for the last family he loved, his own father who would have the horror of seeing all his family die before him... and he failed to kill his foe''.


    Not aware of what happened, the ancient human was relieved to get the two girls to shore as if by miracle. The one with the coin, clutching it in her hands previously paralyzed, broke into a mindless sprint after her feet found solid land. She ran right up to the cave and then looked up to see an incarnation of raw violence, power, and all the beauty that came with the two.


    Her heart seemed to break it beat so fast. Her scream was choked by the scream''s own terror, as if the sound itself didn''t want to be heard by that. She succumbed to her knees as if in prayer and held up her hands to hide the sight from her eyes as a golden pair of eyes, the size of a full-grown man, twisted as if on a swivel and looked at the coin.


    The orcs had frozen; terror had overcome them. Many defecated. The elven siblings had started crying, and the humans were like deer meeting lions.


    A claw reached out of the darkness, and with inhuman, machine-like grace that seemed an ugly and addicting sight from the red-scaled giant lizard hand picked up the coin and spoke. Claws like fangs, moved with inhuman accuracy, to pinch the coin in a move like threading a needle only with a vast lance instead of a thread.


    "Mortal do you seek to forge a pack or buy the great me with this rusty coinage?"

 Obey and Live as I Command.

    "Mortal, do you seek to forge a pact or buy the great me with this rusty coinage?" The human girl balked at the incomprehensible question. Before she could be pressed,


    The infant released a great cry, only its insufficient mind couldn¡¯t understand it. In the same way an ant couldn¡¯t comprehend what numbers mean, and if it were to stumble into it for even a moment, its entire world would become insignificant. In the same way, an ant wanting to learn of the power of ancient kings would seem mad to other ants, the infant called out in distress to its mother and to the dragon.


    The infant itself was changed by the sound of the dragon''s voice, with a grief for what was to come and not what had been. The mother lamented the death of herself and her infant child, and it was upon them. Its eyes pressed down upon the infant child with an invisible force. The distance between the mouth of the cave and the riverbank, fifty steps for any warrior, was discarded in a way that boggled the human mind for something so big to move so fast and make such little noise.


    ¡°Though the infant¡¯s mind could not hold the shape of the dragon¡¯s words, something sank deep¡ªlike a shard of a broken mirror.¡±


    With a speed that only the elven mind could register, the great beast with its vast red wings, its colossal tail that stretched back into the cavern, and the muscles that seemed like mountains stood over the infant child. "Why have you come to my lands?"


    Now it was prancing around the outskirts of the group, then it was over the river looking down on the orcs. Its speed was a horror all on its own, matched with the size it became something else entirely, something hard to fathom.


    The livestock that the humans brought with them had been abandoned on the other side of the river, slaughtered without much thought by the orc stragglers too distant from the front of the line to reasonably get any violence. As the dragon slithered around them, some corpses vanished followed by a crunch from the dragon''s mouth. To the elven siblings, it was like the time an old elf showed them sleight of hand card tricks, only with a far more insidious flavor to them than that old time.


    "Do you want me to save your child?" And just like that, as if all that had been a trick of the mind or a shared hallucination, the dragon had returned to the darkness of the cave, only its glowing eyes visible. The little girl only stumbled over her tongue, not even finding words; even producing sounds became hard.


    It was the elven sister who strove forward, "Please spare us," she said. Her voice was not comforting as the thick doubt was something even the orcs within earshot of her detected over the sound of the running river.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Why?" the dragon asked, making a feigned human movement of sadistic glee.


    "Anything! We will do anything!" the elven girl said, as she broadcasted that she was despairing to all others.


    "Hmmm, I can save you from them." The claw came out, its size made it seem like a siege weapon, and pointed at the orcs. "But in return for this, I want the humans. They must enter a covenant with me. They must live as I instruct them to live, they must pray as I instruct them to pray."


    The first to react to this were the orcs. The dragon''s voice had a way of carrying itself far without seeming loud. They started to hiss like cats and bash weapons against shields, stomp feet, and make a racket.


    In response, the dragon lifted its eyes and said to them, "It''s as if you''re trying to scare off a big cat."


    Sliding forward, the ancient human came before the dragon, kneeling beside the little girl, reaching with one hand to have her bow, pushing her head down, and with the other raising it up to the dragon. "Avenge my son, and you can have me! My tribe, we will follow if you lead!"


    There was an eruption of fire. Animal screams echoed out as the orcs were engulfed alongside the entire bank of the river where they stood, drowned in heat. Some orcs fell into the water but continued to burn all the same. The sound fizzled out, replaced by the roaring and crackling of fire.


    The heat seemed to scorch the skin of the humans and the elves on the other side. The water seemed to boil and bubble on the far side of the river. Then, with vast momentum, the dragon opened its vast red wings as far as they could go, squeezed in by the valley, and a great storm tore at the clothes and the feet of the humans. It put out the fire immediately, leaving more ash than flesh behind. The dragon now stood behind where the orcs had been.


    The wind clawed at the feet of anyone standing and threatened to pick them up and chuck them across the floor. Then, with a pounce, it was away in the sky. What seemed like an explosion consumed the attention of the elven siblings as they realized that the dragon had gone to slaughter all orcs in the valley.


    Far off in the distance, beyond what the human eye could see, the sheer force of the dragon passing overhead tore a band of hundreds of orcs up from the ground, throwing them around with enough force to kill many. Screams and terror consumed the coliseum. Prayers to gods and demons came from the mouths of the orcs, and then a blanket of smoke choked out many in the middle.


    The back half had been killed in another run, leaving a long line of fire, and the fierce winds spread the chaos to the nearby orcs, suffocating them. Ash soon smothered the skin and then clogged the lungs as coughs turned to violent struggles to breathe. The orcs at the front saw the chaos and ran.


    Then another strafe overhead, and heads were picked up off the ground. Many were killed by being thrown around by the violent winds, and a small number disappeared down a monster''s throat, bitten in half and then swallowed all but whole.


    Then another strafe as the dragon had its fun playing around. Then, they were cooked in fire, the ground melting below them, consuming their corpses like quicksand. Just as soon as the fires started to spread, they were put out by incomprehensible winds as the dragon made its way back to the humans.

 One day it will.

    The elves sat atop a small hill, watching the humans work below them across a wide valley that was smoothed and flattened out, producing a nice farming area. The hill, being at the mouth of the channel, was the best place to watch the entire view of the workers.


    The river, over the last thirty years, had become the ''life-giving river'' to the humans. Farms upon farms had been attempted at first, but now they had settled into a solid yearly flow, and there was some certainty that, given no great error or flaw, the farm would produce enough food for the winter months. The tribe had also expanded in other ways, as a second group, mainly of warriors, would head back down south during winter to graze sheep and goats for meat and milk.


    Without horses, something that had so recently changed the course of war for the people of the grassland, it was impossible for them to migrate back down south fully. At first, a few leaders rode them, and now some tribes had mounted half their warriors. The other half ran alongside them, holding some reins during war to steady and calm the horse.


    A few of the more wild warriors even rode in alone without an aide. Chariots were expensive and difficult to manage, which is why, despite being used by city dwellers to the west of the grasslands to great effect, it didn''t transfer to the ''barbarians'' like them. Unfortunately for the ''settled,'' a term used by the barbarians to describe the weak, unworthy, and city or farm dwellers, down south, a breed of horse that could carry a human in armor on its back was bred.


    The people of the tribe, who had been pushed north previously, simply referred to their tribe as the public tribe or the middle tribe, and other tribes by name or as prey, warriors, and tributes. It was too slow to adapt to the horse.


    Now, as they were huddled around the dragon, who, about one generation ago, took them into what the dragon referred to as a Covenant, it had already changed their identity, even if it wasn''t noticed. They were the dragon''s tribe now. When the tribe called themselves, in the past, middle tribe, they meant the middle of the world, a very arrogant name, when the tribe called themselves public tribe it was when they had been given reasons to doubt. Now the generation losses were reconsidered as guidance from the gods or the dragon, and dignity was restored easily.


    At this time, the majority saw it as guidance from the gods.


    Since then, a band of older, seasoned warriors from within the tribe went up to speak with the dragon, and discussed things. The two elves were invited to follow, and were asked to teach the humans to farm by the human elders. After the first two years, where the dragon watched over them and they ate well, being guided to great spots for hunting from the air by the dragon, the dragon went to sleep.


    It has slept for the next 28 years. The elders have since passed away and handed over to other warriors the covenant and what is expected of them, how to awaken the dragon, and some basic instructions for what to do while the dragon sleeps.


    The first order they were given was that they were not allowed to build any walls while the dragon slept, and the second order they were given was that they needed to get horses. Unfortunately, since then, three bands of priests have ventured away from the tribe with various trinkets and tributes that the elves taught them to make, expecting to trade for a horse. The first one came back without having met anyone and nearly ran out of food, the second band did not return, and the third was robbed but allowed to return.


    Then a fourth band was made. This one consisted of three of the robbed elders and the rest warriors. However, these warriors were half and half¡ªsome were spearmen like old, but some used crude bows and mimicked the elves, although the elves had refused to teach archery despite many requests. The humans, especially the ones that had held bows since 8 or 5 years of age, were skilled enough to get a nod of approval. None were to the standard of an elf, but the elves figured they were more impressive archers than any humans had ever been.


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    But the elves had never seen human archers and only guessed.


    There was a level of unease in the elven hearts when a young human boy, who had adored the beauty of the sister, came to show off his skill. They saw a vague shadow of elven skill in the boy¡ªthe focus of his eyes, the gentle brush of his fingers over the strings, contrasting with a taunt stone-like back, that he chose to fire during the perfect moment in his breathing and thought of their own tribe back home, the one they left behind, which they still saw as the elven forest and her people.


    Their archery had made them something of a celebrity during the first two years, as with the guidance of the dragon, just the two of them could easily hunt enough meat for the entire tribe to live off for two months in an afternoon. They feared seeing that skill, used on them. The two siblings had become something like tribal symbols, a role they had been happy to fill at the time but now found restricting, as they watched the humans change slowly but surely.


    If the idea to use arrows on the elves themselves ever entered the mind of the human tribe, the elves never caught wind of it. The idea, however, would linger as a just-in-case.


    There was something else that concerned the elves. The young infant from back then had grown up to become a beautiful woman and also completely obsessed with the dragon. She spent most of her time in the cave just outside where the dragon was sleeping, fasting herself and in religious prayer.


    It was her who convinced the elders they were priests and would, on occasion, make substances that blurred the line between reality and illusion, claiming to hear the dragon in her dreams, although she was not taken too seriously. She told the people that the dragon was an aspect, a central, and perhaps the most important aspect of a cosmic order.


    The elves did not listen much, but they didn''t like how she sounded like their elven elders speaking of the world tree.


    These warriors, the archers, returned with horses, and they returned with captured slaves and another cart. The archery had spooked the horses and managed to break apart a charge. This had left another tribe''s camp undefended, which was promptly raided by the team, taking some of the lesser horses and the woman.


    No one thought anything of this. A similar fate had befallen this same tribe before they met the dragon, and it was seen as simply the way of the world. No moral justifications were made, and none felt any guilt. Raiding was simply a part of life for the grassland tribes, and slavery was simply a part of raiding. The idea that the world could be different never occurred.


    They were neither crueler nor kinder to the captured people than any other tribe would have been.


    The tribe in question eventually recovered from the rout, and came to get vengeance against the dragon''s human tribe. But led by the elves, they took shelter in rocks, hills, and mountains where the horses wouldn''t work and then used the keen slopes to kill off the men that came to flush them out.


    They then captured the rest in an ambush at the base of the mountain, and after a few digressions, figured they couldn''t take any more slaves as there wouldn''t be enough food to feed them and eyes to watch them. So, they marched them into the river and drowned them. Stabbing those who could swim with spearmen waiting on the other side, pelting those who froze in panic when they learned what the dragon''s human tribe wanted of them, and thrusting spears into the back of the pack to keep them walking.


    The women taken from the tribe were brought to a ridge to watch this happen. To smother any hope and accept the need to integrate into the tribe. If the men dying didn''t know what was happening the horrible screams and threats from the woman of what the dragons tribe would do to them let everyone know what was happening.


    The idea to awaken the dragon had come up, and a runner, as they hadn''t figured out how to ride horses yet, was left out of the fighting in case things took a turn. But the priests were hesitant to invoke their lord lightly. This had set a tone of opinion about the dragon and had put an idea in the heads of both the elves and the humans.


    One day, the dragon would reawaken, and no one knew exactly when it would occur.

 Three brothers

    A vast number of tents, made of a cheap, flimsy wooden mesh fence wrapped in the skins and furs of sheep, each one could house perhaps twenty to thirty people if one pushed in and became cramped, but it was rarely more than seven living in these, spread out among the various families of the tribe.


    Families of the tribe were built around the oldest male or the priest of that family, and the families would remain close, with brothers amassing their children into small communities within the tribe. They would then huddle their tents close together. Generally, they would then have a shared tent, empty of people but filled with their stuff and leftover foods. This was also where they kept their bows and spears.


    A few of the wealthier families had gotten swords. It wasn''t something they could make themselves, having no forges, but the bronze blades were generally kept to the waists of the young upcoming sons who wanted to, and whose fathers were wealthy enough to afford them the ability to seek to distinguish themselves from the rest of the tribe. Something all young men of the tribe longed for.


    In each family¡¯s cluster, there are two extra beds always kept open. These are for the elven siblings, who have taken to hopping from family to family on whims, often together in their pair but not always. The elders have their own tent, this one no one sleeps in, but it''s where they discuss business.


    Three young men and a now heavily pregnant woman are the four exceptions to the saggy-skinned older men, who are aged 40¨C60s, but lean towards 45 as the average.


    "We will need to migrate back down towards the river soon to begin the farming season, at that time¡ª" Before a senior-looking elder could finish, the woman broke in with her own stream of consciousness. "On that note, we must prepare beforehand for the necessary gifts to give to the dragon upon our return, which is why we should send these three by horseback early to travel along the edge of the fairy lands to meet up and trade our furs for that ivory."


    There was a rustling. Her cutting off the older man clearly didn''t sit well with the rest of the group. Watching her closely with some resentment, the elder continued, "As I was saying, soon we will need to migrate back down towards the river. At that time, some of the warriors will go out to graze the herd, take a few horses and good bowmen, and seek the settled them."


    "Why wait, or split the warriors? The three of us can easily get the task done, and the Priestess is right. We need ivory to honor the dragon; we need it before we arrive to honor the dragon properly." This time it was one of the younger men who spoke up. "Besides, grandfather, the three of us won''t assist much in the migration anyway. Better use of our hands and time if we leave early."


    Of the three young men, the one on the left stood easily the tallest, being a head and shoulders taller than the tribe''s average. He wore robes of fur, but most notably wolf and dog fur. He had a bow slung over his shoulders and stood indifferent to the room before him, merely showing a stoic nod of approval whenever he would lock eyes with an elder, something he seemed to do by reflex when he sensed their attention on him. There was a rough patch of the wolf fur, where his arrow had pierced, the result being that despite the extremely high quality of the fur, the tribe feared it would be hard to sell, so he took the fur he hunted for himself.


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    The second young man, standing in the middle, was more lanky than the other two, with a bronze sword strapped to his hip and a lion''s mane fashioned around his body. It was something he hadn''t hunted for himself, instead being something he stole in a raid. He had longer hair than the rest and a glowing blonde beard. He wore a wooden armband, with symbols and images the elven sister had carved for him in exchange for gifts brought back. Despite once striving to impress her with his arrows at a younger age, he no longer carried a bow but held his bronze sword, always with one hand gripping the handle. It was a trade he made when he saw the bow wasn''t working towards his obvious aim.


    The third brother, slank half a step behind the other two. He looked at the pregnant priestess when she spoke but otherwise paid little attention to the meeting. He was dressed in the standard clothes of the tribe, a tunic with long sleeves under a fur-lined coat. Unlike the other two, his was made from wool from the sheep and goats they herded. However, he had a metal and fur cap that was too good for the tribe to have made and was slightly too large for his head, something he got around by tying it down with a leather strap. However, he carried both a bow and a bronze sword.


    Despite this, if one was to go back and search their tents, they would find that the eldest ¡ª the one on the left, the middle brother ¡ª the one in the center, and the youngest ¡ª the one on the right, were materially inverted from the tribe''s average. The eldest owned nothing he wasn''t carrying, the middle wore all his wealth on his body, and the youngest put his wealth in metal armor that was too heavy and cumbersome for anything but battle.


    After speaking his mind, the second brother rolled his palm over the hilt of his bronze sword, something that would have been seen as a threat if everyone here didn''t know it was something he did habitually. That was a detail that the atmosphere would leave one denying, as it seemed as if four messengers from a hostile tribe were speaking to the gathering. It was, in truth, a gathering where everyone knew each other by name, habit, likes, and dislikes.


    The old men all had an embarrassing story about the three boys they could bring up if need be, an advantage of age was that they knew enough to keep the stories about themselves among themselves.


    And yet, there was a divide, an issue. Something that prevented this group from a harmonious talk and discussion.


    "The dragon has never cared when we gave him honors before! Why this year?" A voice cut through, sitting far in the back of the tent. It was a man who was easily a generation older than the rest of the tribe. "The gods demand their rituals be done by the seasons; if there is anyone we should honor, it should be them first." The older man was dressed as the eldest son was dressed and looked to that same figure to speak some sense into his middle brother, who, despite showing his approval of the statement with his face, remained silent on the matter.

 Taste of Bronze, Hint of Blood

    The older man who spoke, the most senior and well-respected ancestor of the tribe, turned his attention back to the woman. She was dressed in a similar tunic, only without pants. The tunic was clearly oversized for her, and wrapped around her head was a wooden band, similar to a crown, although the tribe had no concept of such a thing.


    She also carried various novelties strapped around her waist or hanging off her from a cord, or some straps: antlers, horns, various bones carved with symbols representing the gods, although over the years, one by one, a god''s symbol had been replaced by the dragon. She was by far the most knowledgeable about religious matters, and her opinion was respected, but recently, however, it had become a common opinion among the elders of the tribes called the ''priests'' that this was a mistake. This can be seen even in that they had taken to calling themselves elders again.


    The panic came to them from the young ¡ª the best example was the hostile but silent rage the lion-skinned raider was showing toward who should have been the most respected of the tribe. Trying to silence him by glaring him down, something the old man in no way missed but which only pushed him to raise his voice due to indignation.


    Seeing this, the lion skinned raider felt the need to speak himself


    "The gods are distant, the dragon is close. The gods did not save us, the dragon we owe our lives," he said, his voice echoing what he wanted to say more than what he actually did. The woman turned to him with an expression of triumph; she was proud to have led the younger generation in what she knew to be the better path.


    The faith she had guided them on she called the true way, and the gods the tribes followed before she called the old way. It was that she never denied the divinity of the old way that this gradual creep was allowed to go on, as it was just seen as her preference, but it was in the generation after her that things changed.


    "The old way is not needed, we have the true way now." This was a sentiment that was unacceptable to the old members of the tribe.


    "Enough, the decision has been made. The tribe will set off within the week for the river valley to start the farming season. Upon arrival, the gods will be honored with a sacrifice of cattle, and the eldest of the three brothers will take a band of warriors to go trade with the settled. If he finds an opening he may raid, only then."


    The seeming leader of the elders had spoken, this time with deep authority, and what followed his words was a silence. The woman was the one clearly with the most trouble over what he said.


    "The covenant is not something we should neglect. Do you not fear the dragon''s wrath?"


    "It has been over 40 winters since the dragon was awake. In this time, we have never neglected the covenant, nor will we, but the gods are the gods, and I fear their wrath far more if we abandon them entirely." This time he spoke in a conciliatory tone, his body stern and his face begging her to see the wisdom in his words.


    The woman quivered, and the lion-skinned brother stormed out. The eldest seemed bitter about the decision but gave respect to the elders before he too left. The youngest seemed to think on something before speaking.


    "What if we left early and fetched ivory for both the dragon and the gods?"


    The woman, seeing new hope, gave the youngest a firm pat on the back, but ¡ª


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    "ENOUGH!" The eldest in the room shut down what even the other elders would have considered a good compromise. At his outburst, the woman stormed off. Murmurs of maybes and ifs followed, as a few elders took the time to generally consider the request of the youngest. But seeing how little approval there was in how few took part in the discussion, it quickly died out.


    The youngest gave a sigh but still bowed in respect before leaving.


    Far off, further south, was another series of tents just like the ones for the dragon tribe. At the edge of these tribes was a lone man dressed in armor and fur. His armor was made from a vast number of plates that crossed over each other vertically, and metal gauntlets, a thick iron helmet. On his hip was a sheathed bronze sword, similar to the ones found now on young boys in the dragon tribe.


    He looked out at his surroundings and thought back to the recent raids into the settled folk and compared the landscape. He smiled, knowing that the gods had city dwellers, and clearly, they favored his own. Not only were his people taller by a head on average when compared to those who lived in the cities to the west, surrounded on all sides by desert.


    He, for the first time in a long time, took a moment to be grateful for the otherwise horrific extremes that his people lived through year on year. With arid summers that blew winds with the heat and strength to scorch and tear the skin, to winters where fingers freeze and snap if allowed to get wet too far from a fire to warm them in time. Unlike the fairy lands home to the pointy-eared elves that had an abundance of different types of plants, all that grew out here were wildflowers and mind-shatteringly powerful, determined shrubs and weeds. There were, of course, a few hotspots of trees to be found near the rivers that acted like natural walls, marking the territory of one tribe or another ¡ª not that it did any good considering how constant war was.


    The moment a tribe wanted for anything, the immediate response was to try and take it from a neighbor. In fact, that was what was on his mind right now, turning to face an individual with a taut face, who looked more like a cadaver than a man, dressed in a thick black robe with a necklace of human finger bones. He asked again.


    "Are you certain they are weak?"


    "Weak, yes. Defenseless, no. They are, however, at the right moment to attack. Being that they have become half-settled for nearly a decade now, they live up north at the base of the mountains and are building farms around the rivers that run off the mountains."


    Turning his attention out to the wild again, he continued, dismissing the words of the cadaver. He was not an idiot to simply believe something he was told simply because someone told him, especially not a magician like the man behind him. But he had seen it ¡ª the settled people who spent their time farming didn''t know war. Not to say the settled didn''t have any warriors. It was only recently, for example, that the people of the grasslands came to best the chariots of the city dwellers, and even then, it was not a guaranteed victory.


    But so long as they never fought the armies the settled amassed to fight each other or stuck around too long to be schemed against, then almost certainly the grasslands could get in and out yearly without losing too many tribesmen in war. If a people like his were trying to build a new city up north, it wasn''t unbelievable that there would be a period where they had lost the strength of a nomad but hadn''t yet gained the strength of an army.


    However ¡ª


    "There are monstrous archers up north. Are these the same people?"


    "These people worship the beings that live in the fairy lands but are pale imitations at best, that I promise you. With my magic, arrows are like trinkets before me. It will mean nothing, and if needed to fight on horse or foot, I can be certain it will be an easy battle for your own. And might I add that they have grown quite wealthy recently ¡ª raiding and trading here and there, it has been a good few years for them because everyone fears the monster up north."


    "The monster up north?" He turned his attention casually to the cadaver but still once again did not buy too heavily into his words.


    "If it was real, this tribe would be dead. Nothing to consider." These words felt wise and honest to the tribe leader. He thought of the plunder he could take, not for the wealth, but how much honor and prestige he would gain among his own by handing it out.


    "That makes sense. Very well, I will scout out this easy victory," breaking out into a smile, he already visualized himself lording over the broken slaves of this defeated enemy.

 To Steal a Man from his Family is a Causal Thing Indeed

    The tribe had grown fast over his lifetime, as the youngest brother left the tent he looked over the surrounding work. He used this notion to remind himself that the elders had done well, all things considered of adapting the tribe to this new cycle of life.


    No one liked farming, having to follow schedules set by someone else but people didn''t like starving even more. At the time, the tribe didn''t have enough members to compete for space to graze animals, so they hovered on the edges of places. When they did fight, it was always an uncertain thing, they would have to scour places clean of people cause they couldn''t afford to engage in hit and runs with others, and couldn''t afford to have people chase them back to the mountains during farming.


    Because they were defenseless during such times, it was better for their warriors to travel further down south and just attack anyone who got to close or to attack anyone who moved north while they traveled the mountain passes.


    They had found, some great mountain passes that they could take the goats and sheep during winter, it was colder up their and more brutal a season but there were fewer human tribes up in the mountains and the ones they did meet were a step behind them, they had no archers and no horses.


    Horses struggled on the mountain so they often couldn''t be used for battles. Coming up behind him, someone grasp him on the back " We are going hunting, the three of us" looking over his should at the stoic visage of his older brother he said back "Batir my brother, I have work to be done. My amour must be put away, and sealed up so the elements do not damage her during the journey."


    Waving his head in dismissal the eldest said " Me and Khantur have an idea to discuss this journey, you might need that amour still and I know you like to wear it when you go scouting after our return, you never put it away!"


    " What is their to think on? I know from the moment they rejected my compromise that they had already decided to reject us outright anyway, they want to tear the tribe away from the dragon back to the gods. They never planned on hearing us out seriously and took our disrespect as an excuse to ignore us"


    Letting out a sigh, Batir said with a look of dismay " You are such a coward as always Toghrul, obviously if they won''t listen to us we won''t listen to them, now grab a horse and lets get going. Don''t worry about the armor we are not leaving yet, just going to figure out when to do it."


    " I don''t know brother this seems like a lot of risks when the elders are right, the dragon has never demanded we bring him ivory when we first arrive" being shorter then his brother and despite being slightly more stocky, he found himself often greatly intimidated by his brothers.


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    What he would call reason they would call cowardice, this had created something of a separation between the youngest and the middle, a gap that the eldest made sure could never be made too wide.


    " You will follow, and give input or be taken and told " The eldest voice came out gravelly, making sure the youngest Toghrul would give no resistance on this matter. Then giving him a firm slap on the shoulder saying " If you can convince Khantur, then I will concede but I think he had a second objective for why he wants to go now"


    " So this has nothing to do with piety? But instead us obeying our Khantur''s whims like slaves"


    " Hey! I am no one''s slave" Anger flared up, but it quickly faded proving to be more of a playful warning " And I also have my own whims, I hear their is a great medicine man who lives in the city of the Salman."


    Taken aback by the hidden motive, the youngest asked with worry " Are you sick?" With a quick and straight response " No" the eldest Batir removed much of his worry and doubt. " Not me, it''s her"


    " Her?" Toghrul asked, he couldn''t put together the clues to figure out who his brother was refuring to? His mother? A lover? Who?


    Seeing his confusing, the eldest came forward and leaned into his ear, looking around with suspicion before saying in a hush whisper " The elf" Eye''s shooting wide Toghrul said " No!" genuine shock striking him, like he had been struck with a hammer. Trying and Failing to wave his brothers fear away the brother said " Nothing serious, she walks and talks just fine. But her brother has her sheltered away just in case, they do not share their weaknesses with us so we want to kidnap this medical man just in case "


    Toghurl creased his brow, saying " Kidnap? From a city with the three of us? Are you insane?"


    " The settled are weak, we take from them all the time. This will be nothing but a little adventure, especially if we are smart."


    " It could be our deaths! We if the city decides to vent their anger over some other tribes raid on us?" Dismissing his question with a wave and turning to leave, the eldest said " Then we will have vengeance of our own upon them!" Anger furled up in Toghurl, he saw Batir''s attitude as something childish and infuriating.


    " Coward! You would scoff at helping a our elf!" Batir himself, did not take well to the sudden anger from his brother, and yes while he knew his second brother was over reacting to a minor affliction to an elf, something she got herself from swimming in the rivers at night he was certain that his seemingly intelligent youngest brother would imeadilty see how helpful a healer would be to the tribe!


    The only reason Toghrul wouldn''t see how benefit this would be for them as a whole must be because his cowardice blinds him!


    "Enough, Khantur is waiting for us. We shouldn''t speak anymore in the tribe, who knows whoes ear''s are in the tents near us, lets go!"


    " ... Fine, but I do not like this if you can''t convince me you have a plan I won''t come."


    " Heh, then abandon you''re brothers to die?"


    Toghrul tried to stutter a response, but nothing came up his words were strangled in his throat by his brothers retort, frowning he saw Batir relax and smile, thinking to himself '' My brother is not a complete loss then'' .

 Drowning in mistakes

    A foul smell and a skin-slicing chill assaulted anyone who ventured into this tent. It was darker than the others, with its flaps shielded off and strapped to smother the light. The only source of illumination was a single candle inside the tent and whatever faint glow slipped in underneath the entranceway.


    Even then, the natural light from the sun seemed limited to begin with ¡ª constantly in retreat against the shadows of the room.


    Pacing up to a wooden chair beside a heavy wooden desk, a rare sight among the tribal people, was a man dressed in black. He was tall and skinny, with gaunt flesh and sunken eyes. His pale skin was not like that of the elves or the people found on the far side of the settled lands; it was closer to the color people became when they turned from the living to the dead.


    When he finally sat down, it was as if his legs had turned from human flesh and blood to wooden props. He had to drag them around, lifting them by his pants and swinging them here and there. With a slap, they became like the stiffened legs of a corpse ¡ª a noticeable improvement from before.


    Throughout this whole process, the corpse-like man struggled and strained to maintain a stoic silence, but huffs and snorts escaped as he gasped desperately for air or shot out great inhales clearly from pain. Turning his attention to the shadows, he called out softly, "Boy."


    "Boy."


    There was a silent march as a younger child with short black hair, a soft nose, and beady eyes emerged to assist the older man.


    "Were you sleeping?"


    "Sorry, Father, I spent the night making copies of the notes you wanted... I was tired."


    With a disapproving snort, the older man said, "Oh, then bring them to me!"


    "Yes, Father."


    The boy scurried back into the darkness before returning with a thick collection of unbound paper, all hand-written. The man snatched the papers from the boy¡¯s hand, dismissing him with a wave before letting out a few rattling coughs and turning his focus to the work.


    "This is good!" he said after some time. And although he never saw it, those words created a prideful smile on the child¡¯s face.


    The man looked over symbols and icons. The language of the grassland people didn¡¯t use letters to form words, neither did the settled people, but this wasn¡¯t even a languages made for people. It was said that when one read these ¡°words¡± they could hear them spoken by a foreign voice inside their own minds, as if something had crawled into their skulls and whispered into their ears from the inside out.


    Reaching up, he began to fiddle with a necklace. It was a collection of human finger bones, carved with symbols that seemed to strain the eyes when gazed at. Even the herders and hardened raiders ¡ª men who proudly slaughtered children in front of parents and parents in front of their children without remorse ¡ª found the necklace too unsettling and nerve-wracking to look at.


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    "Yes... Yes..." he leered at his own knowledge, getting drunk on thoughts of what to do next. Bringing his hand to his chin, he scratched through his beard and muttered to himself.


    "It will be hard with him around... but with a hatchling dragon, there might only be three in the world... If I can offer such a prize up, then surely I can gain the attention of what I need from the other side to cast that spell... yes. But the chief of this tribe, he will get in the way. He won''t understand. I will have to think of a way to get rid of him ¡ª once the violence starts, it will be too late for this tribe to take another course of action."


    "Boy, bring me the chest! The one with the fish bone lock on it!"


    The boy seemed startled by his father¡¯s order. Sneaking around in the dark, he hovered near the shadows, trying to locate what he needed to bring. Turning to look for his father to ask if he could use the candle, his father shouted, "Hurry!"


    The boy reached out quickly in response, grabbing at something. He felt something wet coil around his wrist. Biting back a scream, he grasped a carved handle of bone and pulled at a big heavy box that seemed to push itself along with him ¡ª almost eager to move.


    The box was green, wooden, and wrapped in a soft fabric neither father nor son could identify. It was softer than silk and remained slightly cool to the touch even in the fiercest summers. On the front was a bone lock ¡ª fish bone, the father claimed ¡ª and a bone handle just above.


    The boy didn¡¯t understand how his old man saw it as fish bone. As he dragged the box out of the shadows, he could have sworn that the moment he glanced at his father, a thousand tongues ran up the inside of his palm.


    He tasted salt.


    It was coming from his own saliva, which had turned to seawater.


    He smelled rotting wood and something else ¡ª a twisted, unnatural version of the scent from their ocean home. It was subtle, but to someone born on the coast like him, it was unmistakably wrong.


    The older man flinched at the smell, clearly caught off guard.


    The boy wanted to let out a whimper but steadied himself and brought the box to his father, who hesitated when it was placed before him. Muttering something like a prayer, the old man produced a small, black bead from his pocket. It was glossy and round, almost like a fish¡¯s eye, but was, in fact, the pickled eye of a man who had wronged the cadaverous figure before ¡ª the previous owner of this very box.


    He placed the eye next to the lock and shut his own eyes. His son, without needing to be told, had already shut his eyes as tightly as he could.


    There was a click as the box opened.


    The old man felt the bead in his hand vanish as if snatched by the beak of a massive bird.


    When he opened his eyes, he saw the box was open and empty. Yet, it held a deep emptiness, the darkness inside the box somehow blacker than anywhere else in the tent ¡ª darker even than the shadows pressed against the corners of the room.


    Despite the candle sitting on the desk next to him, the light pouring into the box seemed to disappear into it.


    Turning to look at his own shadow, the old man saw two.


    An extra shadow stretched out from him, as if a great fire roared inside the chest. He heard the sound of water draining away, like a bowl being slowly emptied.


    With a sigh, he closed the lid of the box, noticing the room brighten as he did so ¡ª without even realizing when it had darkened at all.


    He glanced once more at his new shadow, seeing it hover just next to his old one. When he focused on it, he heard the soft sound of water droplets.


    Turning his attention back to the boy, he said, "Make yourself a potion if strange dreams assault you. Don¡¯t think on them or try to remember them once you awaken."


    "Yes, Father!"

 Siblings scheming

    The two of them sat within the shade of one of the tents, watching the two brothers, Batir and Toghrul ride out of camp.


    "Tell me, sister, are you truly unwell?"


    Turning to face her brother with some annoyance, she said, "Clearly!"


    Letting out a laugh at her response, he said, "But you have enough strength to get mad at me?"


    She only rolled her eyes. A moment passed without either of them speaking before the brother asked, "Should we return home and look for a healer?"


    Frowning, the girl didn¡¯t like the question but couldn¡¯t articulate or rationalize why it was a bad question to ask. She only said, "No. I already feel better than yesterday. I can tell I will feel better tomorrow and be fine the day after."


    Turning to look at his sister, he had some doubts about that. Elves didn¡¯t tend to get sick. Not that they couldn¡¯t, but when close to the world tree, plagues became colds, and colds passed unnoticed. He had to remind himself that they weren¡¯t near the world tree anymore.


    At that thought, he brought it up again. "Should we at least consider going home?"


    Turning his attention down to his fingerless hand, he felt his sister''s gaze on him.


    "One day," she said softly.


    He clenched his jaw slightly. ''But not today?'' he thought.


    "No," she said decisively, as if reading his mind. Unfortunately, she had the final say here ¡ª she knew he wouldn¡¯t leave her alone to venture home. After taking a moment to consider his next words, he said, "Before or after we see the dragon again?" His words broke a peaceful silence that had built up.


    Biting her lip and thinking back on the colossal beast, she said, "Yeah, I am sure I don¡¯t want to meet that thing again." Turning to ask him more directly, she said, "What about its offer?"


    "Can you trust it? A vague offer like, ''If you¡¯re still here when I wake up, I will give you a prize to make staying around worth it,'' hardly motivates me with anything more than curiosity." Their was a silence, as she wondered what it could be, in truth she wanted to know just not enough to want to meet the beat again.


    "This dragon doesn¡¯t seem to be like other dragons," she said.


    Her brother, however, wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to his sister suddenly becoming a dragon expert. After all, they had only ever met one, and while yes, he didn¡¯t act in the way they were told of by legends and myths, surely that didn¡¯t mean much. They were intelligent beings, after all. Thinking about the dragon they had met, he voiced the first thought that came to mind as an improper response.


    "Dragons are weakest when young. I guess that¡¯s why this one needs to sleep so much."


    "Is that the reason? I just assumed all dragons slept really long times. Besides, what counts for a long time? For us, this is nothing. For humans, this is excruciating ¡ª nearly three full generations now. Easily 40 years," she said, cranky at the winged doom.


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    "...We have lived among the humans for three full generations?" the brother asked, seemingly surprised. Letting out a sigh, he said, "I wonder if we will ever go home."


    Scoffing at his answer, she thought with certainty, ''Of course we will, now stop bringing it up!.'' But when she realized her village, her mother, and father wouldn¡¯t be there for them, she wondered ¡ª unlike her brother ¡ª with some fear, if there even was a place for them to feel like home.


    Turning her attention to the two brothers riding off to go hunting, she got lost in thought.


    Khantur was waiting for them. He waved at the sight of Batir and smirked at the glum and gloomy look on his other brother''s face.


    "Certain we are going to die again, Toghrul?" he asked with thinly veiled mockery.


    It had been a few minutes since they were seen leaving by the elves.


    "Most certainly!" Toghrul shouted back, with some humor among his certainty.


    "Enough!" Batir said with exasperation. Then, when the three horses were close by, he added, "I saw some rabbit burrows this way but never found the things. That¡¯s what we¡¯re hunting today."


    "We¡¯re actually going hunting?!" Khantur said with mild surprise.


    But Toghrul merely smiled, thinking it was obvious Batir wouldn¡¯t miss a chance.


    After riding for a bit, Khantur said, "The city of Salman has a river port. That¡¯s how we will get in. There are boats constantly going in and out. We will sneak into one and then sneak into the city through that."


    Looking at his brother dubiously, Toghrul said, "That¡¯s a dumb plan. Let¡¯s just enter the city as traders, snatch our target, and then steal a boat and leave with it, rather than trying to be suspicious sneaking around when we haven¡¯t done anything yet."


    Adding to Toghrul''s decision, Batir said, "We also need to get ivory for the dragon. It will be a hard thing to steal both one after the other. Let¡¯s buy the ivory and then steal the healer."


    Rubbing his hand on his neck, Khantur said, "Then we could also steal a boat¡¯s worth of stuff? If so, should we gather warriors to make it a raid?"


    This time it was Batir who said, "No. We aren¡¯t allowed to leave, remember? There¡¯s a difference between us taking warriors away from the tribe and running off on our own. Also, if it¡¯s just three people, we won¡¯t look suspicious since we will be less of a threat. If we bring a war band, what city would be dumb enough to let us in and pretend nothing would go wrong?"


    "Ugh. Then how will we sail the boat? Some of the elders in our tribe can¡¯t ride horses. Can we be sure we can ride a boat? In my plan, we never needed to know how to ride a boat," Khantur said.


    Batir considered the difficulties, saying, "Getting horses in and out of a city by boat seems like a pain, yeah. ."


    "Then we can¡¯t take the horses into the city. We will need to leave them outside, steal a boat, and force a crew with our swords to take us out of the city and then to our horses. Then bolt after we get to them. We won¡¯t be able to rob the boat blind this way, but it will be safer." Toghrul said, after taking some time to consider how to get as much as they could as safely as they could.


    Nodding along, Khantur said, "But if we take some extra horses ¡ª even just one or two ¡ª I bet we could pack a lot of valuables onto them, no?"


    Clearly liking Khantur''s idea, Batir turned to Toghrul in case there was something he wasn¡¯t seeing, but Toghrul nodded. Still, he felt the need to add, "We might need to kill the horses if we are being pursued too strongly. But the loot we stole might even work as a distraction for the settled."


    "Then it¡¯s decided. We will take five horses with us down to the city of Salman, keep them tied up somewhere they can be hidden so we aren¡¯t robbed while robbing others. Venture into the city as traders, buy some ivory for the dragon, during which we figure out where the medicine man is, steal him away, and snatch a boat ¡ª getting the crew to take us to the hiding spot for the horses that we use to flee. Hopefully stealing enough stuff to recoup our losses for the ivory!" Batir summarized, making sure that Khantur was following along and saying the plan out loud to make sure it all made sense.


    "While searching for the medicine man, we need to decide which boat we are going to steal beforehand. It needs to be one that is quick at leaving and entering the port. If it takes too long to get out, we could be killed by arrows," Toghrul said.


    Batir let out a sigh. He had to accept that his brother¡¯s cowardice did allow him to see flaws in an otherwise perfect plan.


    Suddenly, however, Khantur snapped his fingers and pointed out behind them. They saw someone riding up behind them