Chapter 11 – The Dragon's Child
"The dark pulse of magic pounded against corroded veins, throwing vestigial light over the gaping abyss of the shattered city, rent stone and broken men. Born to the shell of a human laid the soul of the only agent powerful enough to challenge the gods themselves; the small and the great alike took notice as it slithered through the crowd to the pedestal.
It spoke of hope in the coming years, of power, prosperity and peace if the heros would but bend their knee and give up this foolishness that they had undertaken. Not a single voice rose from the huddled masses, they cowered behind their chosen edifices, praying silently they would be spared the righteous anger of the creature.
"We fear nothing!" The hero lied boldly. "There is no knee strong enough to bear the weight of a dragon's claw and no god who will not stand behind us this night to see to it they don't have to." Steel flashed in the gaping maw of darkness and in those ruins, in that night, and with those words, the fate of thousands was sealed.
Their voices still linger on the whispering wind, awaiting merciful oblivion."
Final Recorded Words of Dame Amaranth Lestigien in the City of Colesmith – Estan Free States
"The Last Angels of Isira"
~Felicia~
The embankment rolled down smoothly around a wide swath of fallow land with several buildings arrayed behind it with lazy winding stair cases that lead to doors on what would have been considered the second story to it. Far beyond the buildings was a hill crowned by an opulent home in a style Felicia had never seen before, near the road sat a village built in roughly the same fashion with squat architecture and oddly curved roof work that looked as though it was made of rolled metal.
To the plains walker, the very idea of such buildings existing was ludicrous, however most northerners had no idea what kind of damage a thunder quake could do. She was the one being ridiculous; she'd seen villages and cities before, there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary if one discounted the heavy gouging of Sarah's wagon tracks in the dirt.
That was until Felicia saw what appeared to be a trading post alongside the road and a string of barricades and armed militia men guarding the approach. There were dozens of caravan workers backed up along the road with their wagons being rifled through by the militia and, much to Felicia's surprise, a gaggle of random men at arms who'd set up some kind of camp beside the trading post.
Felicia slowed to a halt when she saw the entire mess laid out before her. Something about this seemed fundamentally off, it made the hair on her neck stand at firm attention and for a moment she had an instinctual urge to tear through the field rather than risk whatever was going on near the village.
It was an urge brought on by years and years of uneasy tension with the northern 'civilized' world and its attempts to civilize the plains and while Felicia wasn't part of the warrior caste, she knew the stories– she knew that this looked like some kind of bid to suppress people's travel. That alone was enough to terrify her.
She glanced back at her passenger who'd been quiet for the last several hours, even more so than usual. Lostariel had been sleeping but the moment Felicia looked back her eyes were darting back, bleary and unfocused. A moment later she wiped her mouth and seemed to find herself, though still groggy. In her travel clothes she looked more like a civilian than she'd ever seen the killer look– she looked
normal.
It didn't hurt that her leather vest accented her form.
"Morning." Felicia said as she passed the water skin back. It was a tiredness they both shared, but only Lostariel had the ability to deal with during waking hours; she could sleep all she wanted while Felicia guided the horse down the trail. At least she'd gotten comfortable enough with the animal to do so.
After the pale northerner downed more than her share of water she passed it back, blinked a few times and looked around with new focus. "Why're we– Oh." She cut herself off, peering down the road. "I see."
Felicia eyed the gathered warily. "Yeah."
They went quiet for some time, watching the line move forward one cart at a time. Some of the caravans continued on past the village, some stopped to trade and a few had guards disembark and join the camp beside the trading post. Throughout it all the guards didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to welcome or turn anyone away and yet Felicia
felt
something watching them. Someone or something.
Something.
As though they might be heard, she looked to her companion. "What do you think?"
Lostariel gave the land another sweep left and right before she wrinkled her nose in that way she did when something didn't sit well with her. It was an affectation Felicia had gotten to see a lot during their arguing and training sessions, it was a face she'd come to think of as cute if not for how cold the voice that followed it usually was. This time was no different. "If the tracks follow the road we continue."
Felicia wound the reins around her arm with a sigh. "I really don't think this is a good idea."
"It isn't," the assassin said as she rested her chin on Felicia's shoulder. Her purple eye was fixed on the girl and something in her smirk said she approved of Felicia's reasoning. "What would you suggest instead?"
"We could go around? Double back maybe, and see if we can't find another trail?"
"We'd spend more time than we have to catch up to Sarah, we might lose her in the process."
"But what if something happens?"
"If you allow it to, you've not been paying attention to my training." The assassin sighed lightly, pressed her cheek to Felicia's. "We'll be fine."
Felicia was less than convinced, she shifted her weight uneasily. They'd come a long way since leaving the last trading post and in the weeks of training that had followed her confidence had been building– her movements were more deliberate and considered, her grasp of body mechanics and the way in which people carried themselves had also grown, but when faced with her first real challenge she had doubts. Serious gaping doubts.
None the less, if either of them stood a chance at finding Sarah they needed to actually catch up to her. If that meant diving head long into the
potential
for danger, then that was just going to be what it took. She nudged the horse on.
It took the guards another good while to finish up with the caravans in front of them and with every step closer Felicia's body wound tighter and tighter, wondering, waiting. She and Lostariel could handle themselves but against several heavily armed men they didn't stand a chance. Lostariel's number one rule had even been specifically that; you stand no chance against one, do not engage on their terms.
This was anything but engaging on their own terms.
"Where are you headed?" The guard said as he strode towards them. His companions were searching through the wagon in front of them, rifling through crates of blankets and other cloth supplies. "Just the two of you?"
"Estan," Lostariel supplied. "Yes, just the two of us." She sounded nothing like herself; innocent and open. Warm even. "We're going to visit our uncle."
"Estan, huh?" The guard reached for their packs on the horse's flank and by reflex Felicia pivoted the animal away. "Hey now–"
"He's skittish, don't mind him." Lostariel continued with a flicker of annoyance directed at Felicia. "Something spooked him up the road." She prodded Felicia's ribs. "Anna just got him back under control."
"Wh- Oh, yeah. Yeah, one of those rabbit things. . . .darted right past us!"
