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Mage Assassin Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2021-02-04 16:02:24 +0000 UTCMy standard work uniform was a tunic slightly more fitted than the one I trained in, simple brown trousers, and my trusty cloak I carried around with me everywhere. The attire was simple enough that anyone might be seen wearing the same thing around Ocadia, and it was easy enough to cover up with any number of disguises my jobs might require.
I adjusted the ties at my neck as I stood near the mirror in my room, and then I looked at the weapons rack on my ivy-covered wall.
I had never killed a dragonkin before. I’d never killed a dragon, either, so I needed to decide which weapon would give me the best possible advantage. Dragonkin had scales tougher than anything I had managed to pierce, so for this, I needed something with a sharp, conical tip. I’d already concluded a bow and arrow would be the best weapon considering a dragonkin was so large, and I preferred to kill it before it had a chance to spot me or attack first.
I rifled my fingers through my collection of arrows before finding the perfect one.
It was circular at the bottom with an aerodynamic tip and made from a mixture of steel and pluto rock, so it was almost indestructible. The tip had been dusted with foxglove pollen, too, which was notoriously known to be poisonous to dragons. The wood of the shaft was meticulously carved into a perfectly straight line while the base had a small feather that had been plucked from a peacock.
I decided to use my favored longbow as its component.
Then I threw my equipment into my bag and slung the bow over my shoulder, shifted my cloak over it, and closed my bedroom door.
It wasn’t usual for me to have two jobs in only two days. Most months, I only worked a handful of assassinations, but I felt blessed to be given a big job such as killing a dragonkin. They were notoriously difficult to defeat, but someone had to do it.
And that someone needed to be the best.
It used to be the Master who took difficult jobs like these into his own hands, but now the reigns were slowly being passed, and it was up to me to prove my skill set, not only to him, but also to myself. I’d always dreamed of slaying a dragon, like many other men in Ocadia, but there was a low survival rate for those who actually tried.
I made my way down to the Master’s office before leaving and knocked on the door.
“Come in, Dex,” he called out.
I confidently entered, set my supplies on the floor, and took a seat opposite of Master Abbot at his desk.
“I am ready to slay this dragonkin,” I announced. “I will not fail you, Master.”
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” he chuckled. “Let me go over everything first.”
“Sure.” I smiled. “What do I need to know.”
The Master pulled out a scroll from his drawer and unraveled the blank paper. Then he glided his hand over it until water droplets formed over the top. Suddenly, a collection of writings and a map appeared in front of us, and he swivelled the paper in my direction.
“This is where the dragonkin resides,” Master Abbot said as he placed his finger on the left side of the map. “And that is where the assassination should take place.”
It was to the northwest side of the kingdom, just past the alchemist's estate, and the quarter was known for shady deals and dark magic.
“I see, and what are the grounds for the killing?” I was intrigued as to why someone wanted this particular dragonkin dead. It would have cost them an exorbitant amount in gold, so the reason must have been unavoidable.
“The dragonkin has been sloppy with his hunting tactics,” the Master confessed. “Apparently, he has gone outside of his boundaries and caused destruction to the surrounding houses as well as taken their livestock.”
“This seems like feeble grounds to kill someone so large,” I told him.
“Indeed,” Master Abbot agreed. Then he lifted his long finger and shifted it slightly to the side of the dragonkin’s home. “You see by here?”
The paper underneath his finger started to flow with a thin stream of water.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Here by the river is where the latest incident happened,” he explained. “A few days ago, the dragonkin killed a whole group of elven servants there, and the duke who employed them is seeking retribution.”
“How many servants?” I cringed.
“Around fourteen,” the Master said with a tired sigh. “They all lived in the borough. Some who died at the attack made up a whole family.”
I nodded. “I can see why they are upset.”
“As can I,” the Master said as he lifted up his finger and let the paper go blank again. “That is why I said we would take on such a dangerous task. Justice is hard to come by in the city, but for the right price, we can ensure those who deserved to be punished are.”
“Especially if their wealth means they are untouchable by the kingdom’s law,” I agreed.
“When you are Master, you’ll need to do your diligence to ensure we are only taking contracts that fit within the scope of our estate. We don’t kill innocents, we let the evils of this world feed upon each other, and we let those who do not have justice grasp it.”
“I understand.”
“Of course, the greater risks involved mean higher pay, and our prices often prevent frivolous jobs.” He continued as he grabbed a hefty sack from the drawer and let it rest next to the scroll. “Quadruple what you have ever earned on a single mission before.”
I wasn’t in the business to make money, and I rarely spent much of it, but it was nice to see the burlap sack that gleamed with the shiny metal. The increase in my earnings was quantitative proof that I was getting better at my career.
“It’s a difficult task,” I hummed.
“It is,” the Master agreed. “But a necessary one. The duke who asked for this hit said this most recent incident actually isn't the first time something like this has happened to his servants.”
“What happened last time?” I asked.
“I don’t know the details so well,” the older man admitted. “Something to do with a couple of the duke’s kitchen staff being left half-eaten in the forest after they went foraging.”
“So, similar to this time,” I replied. “I must admit, I don’t have any experience with those of dragon descent.”
“Not many people do,” the Master responded. “They tend to be rather solitary creatures and usually aren’t much trouble, but I am sure you will be fine.”
“And what happens to the binding,” I posed. “You know, if something happens to me in the process. What if I am not victorious?”
“You have never failed me once,” the Master reminded me. “And I don’t imagine that changing now. Although, if you were to die in battle, then the binding would be broken, and I would have to find someone else.”
“I know I will come out of this victorious,” I said. “What is the time line?”
“Our client wants it done within the next few days. Hence another increase in price. Most assassins would need many weeks to plan such a job, but your magic makes the task not as difficult. With that said, this will be your hardest job yet. Are you okay to take on this task alone?”
“Of course I am.” I smiled. “If anything, I have been waiting for this opportunity for many years now.”
“Good lad.” The man smiled back. “Here’s something to get you there.”
Master Abott tossed me a few gold coins from the hefty sack, and I quickly shoved them in my pocket.
“I’ll be back less than an hour after nightfall,” I assured him.
“That quick?” He raised an eyebrow.
“If it can be done. I will do it.”
The Master bowed his head to me and then rose from his chair. I returned the bow and headed for the door, and I grabbed my supplies along the way before I swung the door open and carefully closed it behind me.
In the corridor, the lanterns glowed red and reflected on the teak wood flooring.The dragonflies that were stitched into the tapestry beside me disappeared suddenly, but they reappeared on the tapestry closest to the water element fountain by the time I made it there. Then the gold-stitched snakes uncoiled from the carpet in the reception area, but they quickly returned to their posts when they sensed who I was.
“Are you off?” Mazne asked from behind the counter.
“I am,” I returned.
“Okay, one minute, then.” The receptionist got up from her seat and crouched under the desk to pull out a pile of clothing. “The Master had this gathered up for you for your mission.”
I grabbed the clothes off her and shoved them into my satchel. I hadn’t the time to see what I’d be looking like, but judging by the weight, I was to wear multiple layers for protection.
“Thanks,” I replied as I tied up my bag and slung everything back over my shoulder.
“Be safe,” Mazne said in her sweetest tone. She was always so worried when we went out on the field, as if we didn’t do it most days of our lives.
“Of course,” I humored her.
She smiled at me as I reached for the ivy-covered knob, and the stems retracted back into the walls so I could exit.
Just before I left, I noticed the boy, Elis, hiding in the shadow of the door, so I scruffed his moppish hair up and smirked.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked.
“Where are you going?” he eagerly blurted out.
“Just on a job,” I informed him. “I’ll be back soon.”
The kid nodded and flattened his hair back over his eyes.
“Good luck, Dex,” he shouted.
I turned to face him, and in the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Mazne, who looked startled by the boy’s sudden voice. I figured she’d never heard much from him before today, either.
“Thank you, Elis,” I returned to the child.
The fresh air hit me like a wall as I exited the building, and the harsh breeze hit me through my tunic. It was colder than it was the day before, and thick clouds had gathered in the sky since I’d left the training ground earlier.
Like usual, I decided to walk to my destination. It was going to take a few hours to reach the dragonkin’s home, either way, but walking helped me prepare for the task at hand. There was always something so refreshing about walking in the crisp air, and it made my mind a lot clearer, and my body less tense.
I jostled with the bow beneath my cloak until it perfectly aligned between my shoulder blades, and then I headed west. I walked through the abandoned coven and the alley paths where a collection of houses sat. Some were made from clay, but most were made up of wood. My feet kicked up the dusty mud with each step while my cloak flicked behind me in the wind, and I crossed between the houses until I came to the same route I’d walked down yesterday.
I decided to walk along the northern perimeter of the kingdom so I wouldn’t end up taken in by the antics of the town. I headed along the dusty path until I reached a backroad that ran beside the edge of the forest, and dense, ancient trees rose up from my right along with the back of the sylph estate.
The sylphs were the purest of creatures who roamed the Kingdom of Ocadia, and they were not completely visible since they had almost transparent skin and stood only a few inches tall.
I could just barely make out the winged entities rushing up into the sky and darting back down again, but I saw they wore dresses that merged with the wind, which helped them glide through the air as lightly as a feather.
Both the males and females had pointed faces and elf-like ears while long, white, wavy hair followed behind them. A few even came over to buzz around me, and they stopped in front of my face to study me for a moment before darting off again.
As I continued to walk north the forest became even thicker with brambles and nettles while the mist seemed to transcend from the floor upward. I could see why people gave it the name the Succubus forest. Even in the broad daylight, it was eerie.
I’d walked through the Forest of Hud only a handful of times. The first was in training, and the Master made sure I was protected during my travels. The point of the journey was to expand my scope of the world, and it worked. I saw the various entities of the woods fly around me while screams sounded from the treetops. I had the task of collecting berus berries from one of the shrubs only found within the forest walls, and once I returned, I felt stronger than when I first entered.
The second time I went into the forest was when I was on a mission several years later, and I decided the best position to be in was on top of one of the ancient trees. As soon as I started to scale the trunk, a force shot me down and pressed against my chest, and I was unable to go any further than a few meters before I was forced to turn back.
Still, I enjoyed exploring, and although I hadn’t gone to all corners of the kingdom, I’d discovered most of it by now, and my yearning to delve into the Forest of Hud grew more and more everyday.
Everyone in the kingdom had been taught from a young age that the forest was not a place a person would escape from. Word had it, if you didn’t die in the woods, you would surely go crazy in there, and the very few people or creatures who entered the forest without a strict deal with the trees ended up wandering around the kingdom in a strange state because of it. Unless they had the tools to combat it, they would grow into stone-like figures of themselves and stagger around town until they were taken and put in a facility.
The only exception to the rule were the exiled creatures who made it to the mountains beyond. Apparently, the king had a deal with the forest that allowed the safe passage of exiled beings, but their survival meant they would live out the rest of their days isolated in the middle of nowhere and never be allowed to return. Not that they would survive trying to get back.
The forest was a truly lethal force in our lands, and I always wondered how such a sweet kingdom managed to thrive so well inside of it.
I took a last glance into the dense nettles and fronds before I passed the next estate. It was griffin territory and far more destructive than the sylphs’ space. Instead of walls, the whole estate was made from a collection of nests where the griffons slumbered under the light. Feathers larger than myself covered the ground in an array of reds, browns and yellows, and I walked on the outskirts of the nests while I admired the griffon talons gripping the logs that made up their huge, wooden homes.
Griffins kept to themselves around here, and they weren’t usually considered deadly beings, but there had been many instances where they’d mistaken a human for prey and used them to feed their young.
So, I trod carefully behind the nests and tried not to disturb them.
I continued to walk along the boundary line of the kingdom and traveled for quite a ways before I noticed the sun had lowered a bit. I wasn’t as far as I needed to be by now, and I was going to return to the estate by dusk, I needed to take some transportation. had not walked as far as I needed to, and if I were going to get back by dusk, then I needed to take some transportation.
After I headed toward the interior of the kingdom, I found a huddle of land nymphs gathered in the street. Each one’s hair was tinted pink as the delicate strands flipped across the ground, and they talked about the ever-changing nature in the land.
“Excuse me,” I said as I passed them.
They all stopped dead and let me pass them without hesitation before giggling to themselves and brushing their dainty hands through their pinkish hair.
Then I continued until I reached a local merchant's carriage. I was still a fair distance away from the town centre, but there were always transporters around the whole kingdom waiting to cart villagers from one end of Ocadia to the other.
As I approached, though, I realized the man in the cart was someone I knew.
His name was Web and he’d unsuspectingly hired me for a job around four months ago, though neither of us could ever mention it to each other. Because I always acted undercover, most people were none the wiser when they saw me, and Web only considered me a local man who liked to often walk around the town eating fruit.
And yet, I’d been the man who killed his sister’s husband. The man was a raging drunk, and this left the sister in the perils of homelessness. He wouldn’t work and left her to bear the young children alone and without help, and Web decided enough was enough.
When there was no justice, Master was the jury and I was the executioner.
One day I would be both.
I’d actually met the husband of the sister a few times before in passing, and it was always an odd situation to be in when I had to kill someone I’d become acquainted with. Before I was told of his actions, I believed him to be a happily married man who liked to drink at the inn every now and then, but on closer inspection, the Master learned Web was true with his word, and the husband was in fact a horrible family member with a hideous temper around his wife.
I killed him with one shot, of course, but it was always strange to know more information about a man than he would ever dare to tell you, especially when he was sitting right in front of me.
I hopped onto the simple wooden carriage and tapped Web on the shoulder.
“Ah, Mr. Morgan,” Web shouted as he turned around to see me. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Hiya, Web.” I smiled. “Can you take me to the Western Quarter, please?”
“Sure thing,” he boomed as he stroked his handlebar moustache. “What do you wanna go over there for?”
“Ah, nothing really,” I returned. “I heard about some tainted fruits that are supposed to be nice and thought I might as well use a nice day like today to go on an adventure.”
“Watch what those younger alchemists give you, won’t you?” Web muttered as he flicked his reins for the horses to start moving. “They’re getting a bit too innovative lately, if you ask me.”
I sat in the back of the carriage and looked at the tight, graying curls that formed at the back of Web’s head. Slung on top of them was a tweed flat cap I’d never seen him without, and he wore a jacket made of the same material. The nape of his neck was wrinkled and red from where the sun had damaged his skin, but his shoulders were as strong as ever, and he held the reins with a tight grip as he guided his creatures onward.
Web was nearly a century old, at least I thought that’s what I remembered him telling me on another trip I took with him. He had been a deliverer since a child, and his horses, who were simple Arabians, had been with him for most of that time too.
The carriage glided past the different estates cluttered together on the outskirts of the forest and then through the centre and behind the stalls where I’d killed Lord Emory the day before. I leaned over the side as I looked for evidence of his body, but nothing and no one remained in that place. Instead, the grass had used the minerals from the body and created an even brighter tuft of grass than what was there previously.
We continued west, past the king’s castle, and through the outskirts of the goblins’ estate. Like many others, it was made of stone, but the structure was much shorter than most. To the left, the druids' houses were scattered around the perimeter of the town. These modest buildings had turreted ceilings and only fit a bed and a bathroom, and they were all identical with only one window and a small door to enter through. The druids always left their doors unlocked, so if someone needed help in the town, they could call on them in an emergency. The faeries lived next to the goblins’ estate, as well as other smaller estates that I knew nothing about.
The air became colder and less inviting as we drove on, and I could feel it in my bones that we were entering the darker side of town. The sunlight dimmed and became a deep purple while a gray smog filtered through the town.
“I wondered why I hadn’t visited this side of the kingdom in a while,” Web remarked. “Now, I remember. It’s a shithole.”
“Hmm,” I agreed. “Can’t say I really remember it being like this.”
We got to the alchemists’ estate, which was just at the edge of where the smog started. The manor house was completely hidden from view and encased in the haze, which wasn’t unlike the alchemists, but I couldn’t recall ever seeing the foggish barricade looking so dark before.
The entire area gave off an atmosphere of dark, stagnate energy, and I began to think Web may have been right about these new, younger alchemists.
They certainly seemed to be brewing up a whole different strain of magic in the environment.
“I can’t take you much deeper,” Web admitted and halted the horses. “I don’t want my stock to get sick. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course, Web.” I gathered my things and passed him a few coins. “Here’s perfect.”
“Alright, but be careful,” he hummed under his breath.
“Of course.” I smirked and jumped down from the cart.
Then I crossed into the edges of the grounds surrounding the alchemists’ estate, and it wasn’t long before the smog became so opaque, I couldn’t see my feet in front of me. I decided I should find someone to mirror as quickly as possible, though, just in case the cloud suddenly lifted, and the people around saw I wasn’t a man from this estate.
I still had my garb from my own estate seamstress to change into, as well, and then I hurried to a row of gnarled hedges before I knelt and dug into my satchel. The disguise consisted of a familiar deep umber robe made of velvet, and I recognized the traditional garb of the alchemists’ residents. They didn’t always wear the umber robes when they worked in their stalls around the kingdom, but within their grounds, every alchemist dressed the same regardless of age.
I wouldn’t be dressed entirely identical to them all, though.
My estate also gave me a stout tunic of chainmail to wear beneath the disguise for protection against this dragonkin, and I hefted my cloak and bow down into the fog-drenched grass before I pulled the chainmail over my khaki tunic. Then I donned the umber robe, tied the satin roping around my waist to secure it, and returned my longbow to my back. I slipped my chosen arrow within the belt so I could reach it at any moment, and then I pulled my travelling cloak back on and buried my satchel in the hedgerow.
I checked my attire real quick and then guided myself through the hazy grounds, and a few minutes later, I heard a pair of voices about ten yards away. I kept my head down and walked in their direction, and as soon as their vague outlines were clear through the smog, I shifted my course and bumped directly into one of them.
The back of my hand struck against the hand of a man in alchemists’ robes, but I didn’t get a clear look at his face. It didn’t matter, though. One brush of our skin was enough.
“Oops, sorry,” I remarked without stopping.
“Watch where you’re going,” a haggard voice scolded me.
I kept my head down and continued to walk in a straight line until I could feel my body start to transform.
I began to shrink by a few inches, and my neck and spine started curve forward as my skin prickled all over. The change only lasted for about five seconds, but after I had fully transformed, my hands and joints felt arthritic and sore like an old man’s, and my body ached like I was centuries old.
I felt around my face and touched the coarse, wired hair that sprouted from my chin before I felt how long and wild my eyebrows had become. Judging by the crevices on my face, I was now the mirror image of a much older man from the alchemists’ estate, which meant I could cross their grounds without any interference from here.
I continued through the grounds with hobbling steps until the mist started to ease, and I could see my hands clearer now as I stretched them out in front of me. They were coarser than mine, and the nails were stained yellow. I tried to remember the scroll that the Master showed me on the desk of his office, and I looked around the area to get my bearings.
Now that I was deeper into the estate grounds, the smog turned from black to a pale green, and even though it still lingered densely around me, it was nothing like the barrier I had walked through so far.
Visibility was still pretty poor since dusk was fast approaching, but I managed to get sight of the bricks that were strewn across a pathway just up ahead. If I had judged it right, this path would take me over a hill and to the stream where the dragonkin committed his most recent crime.
I envisioned Master Abbot’s finger tracing my route on the map, and concluded the dragonkin’s home would be a less than a fifteen minutes’ walk beyond the stream.
I followed the brick path of the estate for another ten minutes, and I only passed three groups of umber-robed alchemists strolling through the misty grounds. None of them did more than nod a greeting to me with dour expressions, and I mimicked the gesture with my aching neck and wobbly head. Then I made it to the farthest reaches of the alchemists’ estate, and the strange haze slowly lifted.
I crossed beyond the barrier of their lands, and as I heard the trickling of a stream up ahead, I knew I was closing in on my destination. I followed the winding water for a ways as a cold, damp breeze kicked up around me, and not two minutes later, I came to the spot where the elven servants had been mauled.
There were no remains, and no blood or tattered servants’ wear could be seen, but I had a sharper eye than most for this sort of thing.
I recognized the newly regenerated grass that had fed off the blood of the fallen, and the extent of the new growth proved how gory the scene must have looked a few days ago.
Almost exactly fifteen minutes later, a dilapidated structure appeared between the thick gray trunks of a charred stand of trees, and the mangled walls surrounding the place were so broken down, they only reached about five feet high. A wrought iron gate stood crooked at the entrance, and a loose silver chain and lock wrapped around it.
I stooped my shoulders as I moved toward the shadows of the trees nearby, and even though my objective was to not be seen, I made sure to walk with the hobbling limp of a wandering old alchemist as I approached the dilapidated walls.
With creatures as volatile as a dragonkin, being mistaken for an easy meal was safer than being seen as a threat. It meant I could feign shock and fear if I was discovered, and this bought me enough time to alter my plans if need be.
As soon as I reached the half-wall, I peered over to see if the dragonkin was slumbering, but among the destruction, there was nothing but a wasted yard and a rugged home.
The house looked like it had been destroyed and rebuilt multiple times, and wads of clay patched up the broken bricks. Singed grass surrounded the building, and a shattered stone walkway led up to the shadowy entrance.
The whole place was ominously quiet, with only the sound of the ravens that called in the distance, but I caught a faint glint of firelight in one of the lower windows.
I crouched lower and made my way around the perimeter of the wall to scan for any other sign of the dragonkin’s exact whereabouts. Nothing stirred in the yard or in the darker windows of the house, but as I reached the back of the wall, I found another entrance.
This time, it was a weathered, wooden door with black steel fixtures that bolted it closed.
Then I heard a long, hollow creak echo through the air around me.
I immediately crouched, threw off my cloak, and drew my bow from my back. Then I strung my arrow, and the foxglove pollen lacing its steel and pluto rock head glistened yellow in the dim, misty light. I kept myself hidden behind the dilapidated wall as I twisted to face the stones, and I strained my ear to listen for another sound.
More ravens started to flock in the sky, and they swirled above the dragonkin’s home and squawked in a way that sent a thrill of adrenaline through my body. A full minute passed without any sound but the calls of ravens and flapping wings, and I remained static in my position for a few moments longer until I wondered if there was a distant thudding of heavy footsteps in the area.
I pressed my ear closer to the wall as I prepared to risk another glance over the stonework, but then deep exhales rushed through the air and warmed the temperature around me.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I knew I had been focusing in the wrong direction.
I braced myself, tightened my grip on my weapon, and turned around.
Facing me, from just behind the shadows, was the beast I had heard so much about but never seen before.
The dragonkin was much larger than I was, not only in height, but in bulk. He stood around eight feet tall with a thick hide, rounded body, and chiseled appendages. His clawed feet had been chipped and nipped at over who knew how many years, and his six-inch talons were stout and yellowed with blood dripping from them. The strange blue skin and scales on his form reflected an otherworldly, purple sheen, and his long tail fell to the forest floor behind his huge body with a tip that looked as sharp as a knife.
One whip of the appendage at a closer range, and the dragonkin could probably slay me right there.
Scars and fresh wounds etched their way across his calloused, scaled hide, and I eyed the girth of his arms as my blood went cold. They were as strong and sturdy as boulders, and his massive hands clenched to the side of his chiseled stomach as he stared me down.
Then the dragonkin drew its leathery wings up, and his wingspan stretched nearly twenty feet across. They had rips and stains on the undersides, and each point was cut up with sword-like points.
All of this was truly shocking to behold on such a humanoid figure, but his face was the worst of all. It was elongated and heavy like a dragon’s head, and his yellow eyes shone amongst the sickly gray hue of his cheeks. His fangs were razor-sharp as smoke seeped form his snout, and two ivory horns protruded from his skull.
The dragonkin had the glare of a hunter as it stepped out from the smoky shadows it lurked in, and even though it had fresh blood and feathers clinging to its lips, it still looked hungry.
I had to act quickly.
Only ten yards separated us as it let out an almighty roar, and the ravens overhead squawked with terror as they fled the scene.
I was terrified, too.
Instead of flying away, I took aim at the scaly man’s heart, but before I could loose my laced arrow, he parted his bloody jaws.
A rancid substance as black as tar spewed in my direction, and I dove aside just in time to mostly dodge it. Splatters of the stuff caught the edges of my alchemist robes and immediately melted the fabric down, and when I looked back to where the beast had fired, the wall was disintegrating in front of me.
Whatever this smelly shit was, it could have melted my body on the spot.
The dragonkin sneered around his fangs as more tar dripped from his maw, and he eyed me like I was a fool.
Granted, I looked and felt like an elderly man and only held a single arrow at the ready, but the dragonkin clearly hadn’t noticed the soft yellow pollen dusting the conical tip of my arrow.
He also didn’t look like he really wanted to melt me down.
No, this bastard wanted to make me squirm with terror before he ripped me to shreds, and then he’d gnaw on my innards for a while like he’d done to the fourteen elves by the stream the other day.
I did my best not to grin at the predatory glint in his yellow eyes, but I knew what would come next. This dragonkin was drooling for a bite of me.
I didn’t try to flee. Giving him my back would be the worse decision possible.
I let the beast come at me with another vicious roar as I swiftly pulled the bow tightly to my chest. Then I let out a slow, steadying breath as I watched his scarred and scaly chest bound toward me, and right as he spread his wings and lunged through the air, I released my hold on the bowstring.
The dragonkin snarled as he crashed down, and even though he managed to land on his clawed feet, he stumbled wildy before slamming into the forest floor.
A heavy tremor radiated under my feet as the beast jittered with pain, and I recognized the sharp scent of foxglove’s pollen steaming into the air. The same rancid black tar started oozing out from the incision where my arrow pierced his chest, too, and I knew the poison was spreading fast.
I jumped back as the bubbling and boiling tar seeped across the forest floor and toward my boots, and I snatched my favorite, discarded cloak from the ground before it could be melted away.
Searing smoke filtered into the sky and was caught up in the cold breeze, but suddenly, the dragonkin’s flesh started to erode. More of the tar seeped through his thick, calloused skin, and it ran from beneath his bluish scales like a wet rag being wrung out. His brawny neck tensed up in the middle of a snarl as his bloody jaws parted once more, but before he could spew another attack in my direction, a violent jolt shook his frame.
I stumbled back again as I realized the flood of his tarrish death wasn’t going to stop seeping out anytime soon, and as the beasts’ eyes rolled back into his head, his forked tongue turned as blue as his scales.
I took one last glance at the growing tide of tar, hitched my bow over my shoulder, and ran back toward the stream and the smog. My heart pounded heavy with adrenaline as I listened to the dragonkin dying in the distance, and his gurgling snarls turned into choking squeals long before I reached the stream.
I only forced my feeble, borrowed body to run until I made it to the hazy barricade of the alchemists’ estate, though. Then I reverted back to a hobbling stride as my wheezing lungs caught their breath, and I tether my cloak over my back to hide my bow once more.
Five minutes later, I was in the thickest, grayest haze of smog on the other side of the grounds, and I let go of my mirrored form as I crouched by the gnarled hedgerow. My aching joints gradually restored themselves to their prime as my body grew taller, and my hair shortened as the wiry beard on my face melted away. I didn’t waste a moment before tearing off my umber robe and chainmail tunic, and I stuffed the guise into my satchel before I promptly exited the alchemists’ estate.
By the time I left the foggy northwest quarter behind, I was fully myself, and I entered into the rest of the kingdom with a steady, unconcerned stride. I wandered straight south for a ways before I cut inward to the western centre of town, and I behaved as if this was where I’d intended to spend my evening all along.
As I strolled between the shops and stalls, I couldn’t keep the easy grin from my face.
I’d slain my first dragonkin today, and I’d done so with no injury to myself.
In fact, it was almost easy.
Well, perhaps I was fooling myself, since my heart was still beating at twice its normal rate, and I had to slow my strides to a calmer pace as a potent sense of achievement washed over me. Then I glanced down at the subtle scarring on my palm and let out a light chuckle at the thought of what other challenges might lay ahead. I was eager to meet them all, and I felt like my next assignment couldn’t come soon enough.
I was that much closer to doing my Master justice.
Then I noticed a gathering of faeries near an upcoming stall, and my attention derailed only slightly from my adrenaline rush.
The group of beauties stuck out in this side of town with their wispy clothes, and flowers in their loosely tied hair. They were also taller than the usual faeries who darted around Ocadia, and I knew this meant that they were the heirs of the faerie throne.
From what I remembered hearing, the one in the middle with the soft pink skin was the dutchess. Her hair was thick and white while her ears peeked out from between the tendrils and shot above her head. Her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of blue as she looked around the evening street, and as we locked eyes, the dapples of her cheeks grew more red.
The faerie duchess turned and giggled into the shoulders of her sisters, who were less pretty, but still had pinched features and huge eyes. One of them had skin the color of lavender, and soft, mint hair, but the other sister in the group was tinted a cornflower blue and had even paler green hair.
The pink-skinned dutchess regained her confidence again and turned back around just as I passed by, and she quickly plucked a carnation from her head and held it out for me to take.
I slowed my pace and turned to the duchess.
Her eyes were bright with naivety and her cheeks were blushing even more now that I stood so close. She knew better than to flirt with a human in the streets, but she was clearly feeling rebellious now that it was nearing nightfall in this particular quarter of the kingdom. I could see her studying my stern features, but my two-toned eyes seemed to have her mesmerized after a short time, and when I offered her a grin, I heard her breath catch lightly in her throat.
Then I reached out and grasped the carnation between my fingers, and our hands brushed together for a moment before I whisked the flower into my pocket.
The group of faeries all giggled again while I walked onward through the dusky street, and I looked over my shoulder to see the duchess standing with her hands clasped and waiting for me to return.
Now wasn’t the time, though. I had just defeated my biggest target so far, and for that, I needed to tell the Master.
Even though I did sometimes regret just one thing about my line of work: it rarely allowed me the freedom to court the many beautiful women who caught my eye in the streets of Ocadia.
