Chapter 100: Down

The late afternoon sun was setting on the peaceful plains around Losserec. Viv reclined in the somewhat uncomfortable carriage bench, studiously ignored by the other occupants. The family who had agreed to take her to the walls were discussing tomorrow’s tasks in low voice while the young boy in front of her focused on a toy, only raising his eyes to cast shy glances at Arthur. The dragonette coiled lazily around Viv. She had categorically refused to leave her for a single second.

 

Viv just relaxed and watched the landscape. While Koltis down south had been packed within the crowded confines of its walls, Losserec had sprawled all over the land, trailing estates and small villages everywhere. More meaningfully, people were smiling. The war was about to end with their victory, and they knew it. Conflict had never reached the cozy shores of Lake Hydon. The harvest was bountiful this year if what she had heard at the wedding was any indication. She was catching, perhaps for the first time, a glimpse of what prosperity meant on this monster-ravaged world. It felt strangely peaceful.

 

Even more peaceful, she was being ignored. Dressed in peasant garb and dragged on a family carriage, Viv was no longer a war caster, just one more ordinary laborer going back home after a day of relaxation. Arthur was too low on her lap to be seen from the road, though people behind her sometimes frowned at the white tail hanging from the edge. She had covered her hair with a shawl. To anyone around, she was only one among many.

 

It reminded the outlander of an Arthurian tale she had read long ago. The story told of the vile Meleagant abducting Gwinevere. Knight Lancelot agreed to ride a cart against information about her whereabouts, an extremely dishonorable treatment for a knight. Today, Viv was not on a horse, wearing armor and escorted by a stout Kark. It felt like a vacation. Or it would, until someone looked down on her or tried to piss her off, which would definitely happen at some point.

 

Sleepy hamlets gave way to vast, tilled fields as the path led a bit inland, then they turned left directly towards the lake. The city sat on a small elevation jutting into the waters, which provided a natural moat around two thirds of its tall gray walls. Circular towers rose to the skies, bearing the heraldry of the local lord on sheet-sized flags. Soldiers in blue and yellow livery guarded the main entrance. The woman in front turned to Viv and asked in a slightly embarrassed voice if she had identification. Viv could read between the lines and decided to spare the tailor family the indignity of being in her mantle of catastrophe.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll make my own way.”

 

Viv climbed down. There was a line waiting to enter the city, though it moved quite fast. Important people didn’t wait in line. She was important people. In fact, she couldn’t not be important people so long as Arthur was around, so Viv decided to own it instead and walked confidently to the gate. Quite a few of the guards noticed her immediately. She had met an instructor with a sixth sense when it came to anomalies, able to pick up a person acting weird out of a hundred in a crowded train station. Here though, she suspected a skill might be involved. They were serious but not alarmed just yet. Viv hoped it would stay that way.

 

“Hello. I’d like to get into town, this is my first time here.”

 

One of the busy guards who hadn’t seen her come turned with an angry face.

 

“Get the fuck back in… Oh.”

 

Arthur glared at him and stood on her hind legs. Her eyes were level with the guard as this was on the short side. He took a step back so she returned to Viv’s side, crimson eyes inspecting everyone with malevolent focus.

 

The ensuing silence lasted for only a short time. A grizzled sergeant with impressive, graying chops stepped out of the guardhouse with a mighty scowl. He walked to Viv with confidence, eyes going out of focus for a second which she associated with inspection.

 

“Caster huh, an instinctive one?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That figured. What’s your purpose in Losserec?”

 

“I seek passage to Helock by ship.”

 

“Alright. You got any identification with you?”

 

“I have a Manipeleso bank chit.”

 

That got Viv some raised eyebrows.

 

“I was attacked and lost my gear,” she explained. “My clothes were destroyed and blood-soaked. Some kind souls gave me those.”

 

“I see. The roads are not safe these days. One more question. Have you been involved in the civil war?”

 

Viv was rather sure the man could detect falsehoods, so she decided to be mostly honest.

 

“I fought side by side with Sangor the Nigh King in Green Edge, but I left afterward. I also fought loyalists on other occasions. I’ve never fought against your side.”

 

Some of the guards shifted at the mention of Sangor, and she got her explanation as to why shortly after.

 

“His Royal Highness Sangor,” the sergeant politely insisted.

 

Viv tended to forget it, but Nyil had a much more hierarchical society than nowadays France. Here, people had to show respect to their ‘betters’. She had to keep it in mind or risk annoying the sticklers for protocol.

 

“Well, sure, come on in. Do you have coin?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“I lost almost everything in the attack.”

 

“That’s fine. Bearers of the chit don’t have to pay the entrance fee, but you might want to go to the bank first. It’s on the main square.”

 

“It always is…” Viv mumbled.

 

“Indeed. Now if I could see it?” he politely asked.

 

Viv spent an embarrassing two seconds lifting the chit from her modest cleavage. The sergeant remained entirely professional, thankfully.

 

“Everything’s in order. Do you have a leash and muzzle for your drake?”

 

Ah.

 

“Ah.”

 

“Squeeeeeeeeeee?”

“I assure you this is not necessary. Arthur is extremely well-behaved.”

 

“If you don’t have one I can have a kennel leash modified on the spot…”

 

“No collars.”

 

“Squeeee!”

 

The sergeant looked strangely at Arthur, probably wondering if she could indeed understand human language.

 

“Look, I was told someone else has a drake here,” Viv said, eager to defuse the argument before it could turn incendiary. “Do they have a leash and collar?”

 

She sure as fuck hoped not.

 

“I am not privy to the governor’s habits,” the sergeant coldly replied. “Still, if you have her under control…”

 

“There isn’t an entity on Nyil that can get her under control. Look, we’ve been to two major towns without incident before. I’m sure you are just being understandably cautious, however leashes are a no go.”

 

Violence?

 

Viv sent back a ‘no’.

 

“Could you just let us through? We won’t cause trouble.”

 

“And if you do, it’s my head,” the sergeant replied.

 

He bit his lip, considering his options.

 

“Tell you what, I’ll get our local kennel master. If he says it’s fine, then it’s fine. Would that be acceptable?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“Then, errr, Lathas get the lady inside while I fetch him. Mage Urin’s office will do.”

 

Ah, the time-honored tradition of kicking problems up the chain. Viv considered that Arthur might be recognized for who she was, or rather what she was. It should be fine. It would happen anyway in the larger city.

 

As she walked by the gate and got into the guard post, a part of her wondered if it would have been wiser to get Arthur over the wall by flight. She expected people in a capital city to be reasonable, sensible human beings. She was just being stupid. Now to hope she was stupid and lucky. Not that sort of lucky, the real kind.

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Mage Urin’s office was a small but tidy affair, a packed office with more books Viv had ever seen together in Nyil with a window pointing north. The rays of the late afternoon painted the walls outside red, yet it also made the place feel more familiar. Add a laptop and a phone on the desk, and it could be any scholar’s office back on earth. The murmur of conversation outside made for a pleasant background.

 

The guard by her side cleared his throat. She had been daydreaming. Without hesitation, Viv sat on the guest’s chair and turned to the guard, who looked distinctly awkward.

 

“Lathas, was it? Do you think I could get something to drink and then maybe you should return to your post?” she suggested, letting the leadership aspect of her soul leak a bit. The tiny amount of soul mastery she had helped as well, though modestly.

 

He blinked.

 

“Oh, yes goodmother. Sure.”

 

He saluted and left. Viv received her cup of piping klod while she was inspecting the nearby books. Arthur squealed happily when she found a copy of ‘The Desolation of Aristan’, her favorite book, though this copy lacked the nice illustration of a big black dragon roasting the town and its defenders. The diversion lasted until someone subtly poked her with transparent mana, or rather, someone had pushed mana in an expanding bubble and she had been hit like a fat submarine. She was pretty sure it was rude, so she flared her own mana twice, her best attempt at conveying ‘Yes I am here’. Ten seconds later, someone knocked on the door.

 

Three people let themselves in. The first was an older mage with a belly who had the decency to look sheepish — probably the cause of the magical sonar spell. The second smelled a bit of beasts and looked gruff and annoyed to be here. Too much sun had tanned his skin a deep red, and he wore leather armguards with deep bite marks on it. He looked quite attractive in the gruff and muscular kind of way, and his biceps bulged under his sleeves, which was nice. The last was the most nondescript woman Viv had ever met.

 

The trio awkwardly moved around the table, with the mage hesitating, then sitting at his desk. The narrow confines of the place made the gathering that much more stifling, but Viv had been in political rallies. This was nothing. At least they smelled mostly clean, and she had tea.

 

“So, errr, why are we here?” the mage asked.

 

“Hello, my name is Viv. I would like you to allow Arthur to move freely around the city while we visit. Without a leash.”

 

“And, errr, I wasn’t aware that we had regulations on the treatment of drakes?” the mage asked his companions.

 

“We have regulations on people bringing dangerous beasts within the walls,” the person Viv assumed was the kennel master said. “Let me get a look at the drake.”

 

“Oh,” Viv said, “I never said she was a drake. Arthur? Say hello.”

 

The dragonette uncoiled from Viv, lifting her head from the witch’s lap and rising above the desk, where she put both of her arms. The claws clicked on the varnished wood with terrible finality.

 

“OH SH—” the kennel master gasped, and he fell on his ass.