Chapter 18: The Dragon Meets Some Unusual People

Chapter 18: The Dragon Meets Some Unusual People

Doomwing approached the final stop on his trip. Below him, the open plains and rugged hills had given way to the coast. An estuary filled with mangrove trees and brackish water lay below him, the twisted forms of the mangroves far taller and sturdier than they ought to be. Merfolk swam through the water, some heading out to sea whilst others went upriver.

The merfolk who lived in the lightless depths of the ocean could not survive for long in freshwater. However, their coastal kin were better able to handle the transition. Some could survive for days at a time in rivers, lakes, and streams. Others, however, were blessed with the ability to live freely in both freshwater and saltwater.

He had encountered his fair share of merfolk over the many years of his life. He had even spent time with them since he knew dozens of ways to breathe underwater using magic. After the debacle of the Third Catastrophe, he had endeavoured to shore up his weaknesses and had learned all he could from their tide mages and water weavers. They had been in no position to refuse, not after their involvement with that overgrown eel.

He glided closer to the surface of the sea and flew in a lazy circle around the titanic mangrove tree that stood sentry over the estuary, its proud roots forming great arches that spanned the mouth of the river whilst its branches cast shadows that spread for miles. The merfolk huddled amidst the roots, watching him with wary eyes. Many of them were children with all manner of trinkets clutched in their hands pieces of coral, shells, and even scales from various aquatic creatures.

The dryad sitting with her legs dangling into the water and a merfolk child on either side stared up at him. Her skin was the colour of freshly cut mangrove wood, and her eyes were the blue-black of the deepest reaches of the sea. A floppy hat woven of dried seaweed sat upon her head, and her hair hung like kelp past her shoulders in varying shades of brown, yellow, and green.

"You are being obnoxious," she drawled. "And you are scaring the children."

Doomwing took a moment to make sure that there were no merfolk beneath him and then landed in the waters nearby. "You remain as eccentric as ever, Rhizophora. Are you not worried that I will attack?"

The dryad shrugged. "And if you attacked with your full strength, what could I do? I am not one of the First Daughters who might, at least for a time, stand against you. I am a Third Daughter a great-granddaughter of Mother Tree. I was born at the beginning of the Sixth Age. Even on my best day, I could not beat you on your worst day."

"True."

"And you are no coward who strikes down helpless children and those who have not wronged you." Rhizophora smiled faintly. "Your temper may burn hot, for you are a dragon, but you are no butcher."

"There is that."

Doomwing looked down at the merfolk children. How easy it would be to slay them all. It would take scarcely a thought to stain these waters with their blood. There had been a time when the pain of Ragnar's death had still cut deep when he would have been tempted.

His friend had died as nobly as any dwarf could wish for, but he had died all the same. Doomwing had wanted him to live, to die an old dwarf in a gilded hall filled with his children and grandchildren. But Ragnar had died screaming his defiance, with no wife or children to speak of. They had perished before the final battle, their sky ship struck down by the Lord of Tides himself when he first emerged from the depths of the ocean.

Ragnar had lived, at least in body. But Doomwing had seen the grief clawing at his friend's soul, and he had known that Ragnar's heart had died alongside his wife and children. Only vengeance had kept him going. Yet at the end, Ragnar had forgone his chance at vengeance to buy Doomwing less than a heartbeat of time.

Doomwing had used that time well. Ragnar had been avenged, and Doomwing had screamed his hate and rage and sorrow into the very face of the Lord of Tides.

In the aftermath of the battle, he had looked upon the merfolk who had cast their lot in with his enemy, and he had been filled with wrath. The urge to strike them down, to boil the seas, and unleash runes of devastation upon them had been almost more than he could bear. Why should they live when his friend was dead? Why should they be allowed to return to their cities when Aurai was gone and the elves and dwarves who had sought the skies were no more?

But Dawnscale had stayed his hand. What choice had the merfolk really had? To defy the Lord of the Tides would have meant death for them all. There had been enough bloodshed. Let them slink back to their cities of coral and monolithic stone, let them grieve for the countless losses they had already taken.

In time, Doomwing came to understand that there was some truth to her words. Some of the merfolk had undoubtedly joined the Lord of Tides with great enthusiasm, revelling in the chance to drown the world and expand their domains. Others had looked with horror upon the devastation being wrought upon the surface, but they could not afford to rebel. They would have been slaughtered if they had tried.

That did not excuse them. A dragon would have preferred death than forced obedience. The First Age had shown that. His fellows had died in droves fighting the Broken God, but they had died rather than kneel. Merfolk were not dragons. Their hearts were not forged of sun fire. They were weak and fragile. They feared death where a dragon would instead fear a life of servitude.

And he had come to know them better in the years he spent with them. There were good merfolk amongst them, those who were worthy of his respect. His fury had cooled over the years, his wrath reserved now for his dead foe and any who sought to repeat his mistakes.

"You should smile," Rhizophora said. "It might soothe the children."

Doomwing smiled. The children wailed and hid their faces with the two beside the dryad clinging onto her and burying their faces into her sides.

"Or not. I had almost forgotten how toothy a dragon's smile is." Rhizophora sighed. "Fear not, children. Doomwing means you no harm. He is simply here to visit me. We are old friends, you see, or at least old acquaintances."

"I can sense your tree folk nearby. May I see them?" It was a courtesy. He could use magic to force them out into the open or to cancel their concealment, but there was no need to be rude when she had been accommodating so far.

Rhizophora smiled. "If you like."

Several mangrove trees stood up, and Doomwing tilted his head. They were not the largest tree folk he had ever seen, but their concealment had been excellent. From the looks of them, they could extend their roots and branches like great spears or shoot spines of hardened wood at more distant foes. Most intriguing, however, were the many, many, many toxins they were able to produce, some of which even he hadn't encountered before. How fascinating.

"You've adapted toxins from aquatic creatures and then combined them with plant toxins to create completely new varieties. Impressive." And he meant it. Too many dryads were content with minor improvements. To create entirely new toxins was no easy feat, especially for a dryad born in the Sixth Age.

"The seas are home to many interesting creatures, a great many of which are either venomous, poisonous, or sometimes both." Rhizophora waved around a fishing rod. "I also enjoy fishing although I have to be mindful, lest any of the children find themselves caught on my line." She smiled. "You'd be surprised by how many of them forget themselves when they see the bait I use."

"I can imagine." Doomwing could remember getting into trouble many times as a hatchling, quite often because of his desire to fill his belly. Young dragon grew swiftly, but that growth meant they were almost always hungry.

"You're here for plants and tree folk, I suppose." She sighed. "Anthracia told me you might be headed my way."

"Did she now?"

"Every now and then, one of her elves will get curious about the sea. It's not unusual for them to find their way here. I look after them, and they bring me gifts." Rhizophora smiled. "I love my mangroves, but there are not many flowers here."

"Because I have an array of awesome powers, I rarely need to rely on alchemy, unlike you." Doomwing grinned. "I still remember the look on Marcus's face when he came back. That was his manor you were conducting experiments in. It was a miracle nobody was killed. Oh wait. It wasn't a miracle. I made sure nobody was killed because I'm awesome unlike you."

"" Faustina made a face. "I told him I was sorry. It was way back in the Fifth Age too. Is he still not over it?"

"You could have offered to pay for it."

"I used all of my money on alchemical ingredients." Faustina shook her fist at him. "I was so close to creating sanguine-steel." She glared at him viciously. "And then you just had to go and make that stupid sword of his completely out of the stuff."

"I got sick of watching you fail. It was funny for a while, but then it just started to get sad." Doomwing laughed. "Have you worked out how to make it yet?"

"Yes," Faustina hissed. "It took me another five hundred years, but I worked out how to make it."

"I notice that you're not carrying any around with you," Doomwing pointed out.

"It turns out you need the scales of a primordial dragon to make the best quality sanguine-steel." She batted her eyelashes in what was probably supposed to be a beguiling manner. "So?"

"Not happening. I actually like Marcus, which is why I made him his sword. I tolerate you, which is why you get nothing," Doomwing said. "Why are you even down here?"

"I am trying to make flow-steel." Faustina folded her arms across her chest. "It is a material that can alter its shape at will yet harden to take on the same physical properties as the very mightiest of metals. I have reason to believe that several of the key ingredients can be found here. I have purchased them and intend to try my luck at making it."

"You know, I could tell you"

"Don't you dare!" Faustina shrieked. "There's no sense of accomplishment if you just tell me the answer!" She scowled. "Why are you here anyway? Are you here just to torment me?"

"Do you really think I'd go out of my way to torment you?" The flat look she gave him told him exactly what she thought. "If you must know, I'm running a few errands. However, I am curious do you not know what's happening in the far north?"

"The far north?" Faustina shook her head. "Not a clue, and I don't really care. Apart from flow-steel, I'm also investigating a number of interesting materials that can only be crafted using components from this region. That dryad has been surprisingly accommodating in exchange for me making a few things for her."

"An umbral veil has formed in the far north. It covers several kingdoms' worth of land."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Bullshit."

He laughed. "Not at all. It was created when I killed a shadow dragon and dumped the body."

"" She squinted at him. "Do you know how much of the body is left because there are a lot of things I could do with the body of a shadow dragon?"

"Since an umbral veil has formed, I would say the body has been consumed to create it. However, the area is currently being fought over by almost every ancient of reasonable power, including Marcus."

"An umbral veil, huh?" Faustina rubbed her chin. "I've never seen one before. The vampire homelands were destroyed before I was born. I would really like to study it" She grinned craftily. "Do you think Marcus would give me free rein to study it and carry out my research if I helped him win?"

"You'd have to ask him." Doomwing managed to keep from cackling. This was exactly what he wanted. Ah if only he could watch the chaos unfold when Faustina showed up. His criticisms aside, Faustina was one of the most brilliant alchemists he'd ever met. She was definitely the best vampire alchemist he'd ever met, and the only people he knew who were more skilled and knowledgeable were people like him who had Ages of extra experience to draw on.

"Hmm the far north is pretty far, but if I leave right now and I use that thing I made" She trailed off, muttering to herself incomprehensibly. She shook herself and then nodded to the merfolk shaman. "I'm afraid I'll be leaving a bit early."

The shaman, who had watched their exchange with amusement, laughed. "You have already settled payment with us. You may leave whenever you wish."

"Thanks." Faustina grinned. "If I help Marcus win, he'll have to reward me. I have been running low on funds lately, so I can get him to set up a research academy for me. I'll have my own minions, and I can probably badger him into coughing up regular funding. Heh. This solves all my problems." She nodded at Doomwing. "Thanks for telling me." Her eyes narrowed. "But what's in it for you?"

"Your eccentricity aside, you will be of great use to Marcus." Doomwing could probably finagle his mirror into letting him observe Marcus without the vampire knowing. Yes, with the right modifications, he should even be able to broadcast what the mirror saw to his location, so he wouldn't have to stay in his volcano all the time or bring his mirror with him. "That is reward enough for me."

"You big softie," Faustina said before she vanished in a sudden burst of magic.

The shaman blinked. "What just happened?"

"She used a teleportation charm. It brought her back to the surface not far from the mouth of the estuary." He sharpened his senses further. "And now she's transforming into a group of bats and flying north."

"Can vampires do that?" The shaman made a face. "I've only met two vampires, but that seems very strange."

"Different vampire lineages specialise in different things." Marcus's lineage specialised in illusions, mind control, and leadership. It was one of the reason he hadn't fallen prey to Kagami's pre-emptive strike. "Her particular lineage is known for shape-shifting, usually into bats, wolves, or other such animals."

"Interesting." The shaman stared at Doomwing. "Do you need anything from us? We'd be happy to help if you do."

Doomwing considered the question. He did have a few things he wouldn't mind picking up while he was here. "Actually"