The Gods of Dragons: Book 1, Fire and Ice by dragonshadow58 | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 16 - Elsewhere

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Winter 4994, 22 Aoimoth 

Archmage Yarna sighed, rubbing her head in frustration with the two water subjects. The male stood against the far wall, his arms crossed stubbornly, while the female had fit herself in the corner on the other side of the room, looking like a terrified mouse, her little snake familiar hissing protectively in front of her. 

"Never." the male said, "I will not force a woman for any reason, least of which to amuse you." 

"Amuse?" Yarna asked, picking up the vial from the tray she'd brought, "You think I find these storms amusing? That hurricane flooded not only most of the coast but a good half of this basement. And the resulting mosquitoes are spreading a plague that doesn't care if it kills normal, useless, humans or my future subjects." 

She waved a lazy hand toward the male. He stiffened as her golem -stitched together from the leftover flesh of past subjects- approached to hold him down. He struggled and strained, but the flesh golem couldn't feel it and didn't understand. Mindlessly following her orders, it pinned the man's arms behind him, pulling his shoulders so he had to arch his back and grit his teeth around the wrenching pain in his joints. 

Yarna removed a syringe from the tray and carefully measured out the solution as she moved toward him. She flicked the needle in front of his face, then calmly stuck it in his neck. "There is nothing amusing about the need to revive an entire species from the scraps of its leftover blood, tainted by your human bodies." She injected him with the solution -crafted from the Waterwyrm's samples- then returned to her tray to prepare the second needle. 

"I... won't..." he gasped. The female whimpered. 

Yarna sighed again, moving for the female and whispering to her, "Do I have to hold you down too?" 

The poor common girl had been a nurse for the Church of Soleil and didn't have the same fortitude as the male. She turned her head away from Yarna, but didn't fight as the Warlock slipped the needle in her arm and injected the solution. 

"You should be grateful. Honored." Yarna told them both, returning to the door and cleaning up her tray. "You have the chance to start the next generation of dragon-kin. And your children will fuel the generation after that. The solution will enhance the dragon part of your blood to condense and purify into the next generation. Bit by bit, generation after generation, we will return the dragons to this world. And all you two have to do is the only thing humans are good for anyway. Breed."

The golem let the male go and returned to her side. He stumbled but remained on his feet and glared at Yarna. "I won't do it. I will not rape a woman so you can torment her children." His familiar quacked from under the bed, then waddled as fast as it could to his side.  

"Your children." the archmage corrected, rubbing her head again. "Fools... it won't work unless you both carry the same blood type, both water and both bronze." Yarna looked at the female, who was staring at the male, looking relieved. 

"You'll have to kill me." the male stated, squaring his shoulders. 

Yarna smiled, and the man's hands shook, "Oh, you won't be the one I kill. I've tried to be nice. I found you a lovely young woman. But I don't need either of your familiars." The female dropped to her knees, and her snake slithered up to wrap itself around her arms as she held it close. The male blanched, and his legs shook. Yarna continued, "You'll survive it. I'll make sure of it. And once you recover -whatever parts of you are capable of doing so after losing that part of your soul- will be given a chance to try again." She tapped her lip, studying both of them in turn, then shrugged, "And if you still refuse, I will kill her and find someone else. Your blood and magic are stronger than hers." Yarna smirked at her own lie. She wouldn't kill the female, she'd just find another male with more sense. 

The male swallowed, and he looked to the female, who returned his gaze with wide eyes, tears already streaming down her cheeks. "You have two weeks before you'll need another injection. I expect you to at least try in that time. If not, then when I return, it will be to take part of you both with me." 

The male's legs gave out, and he hid his face in his hands. The Warlock shrugged again, so much emotion for such a simple job. She opened the door and sent the golem ahead, behind her, the female stumbled across the empty space and knelt beside the male. 

Yarna left -locking the door- but waited to hear the woman whisper, "It's okay... Thank you, but..." 

"I'm sorry..." the male sobbed, "I would never..." 

"If we'd met before this, I think... I think I would have liked to get to know you." the female said, her voice shaking but somehow still soothing, "It's okay, I won't let them hurt either of us. No matter what it takes."

Yarna smiled and moved on to the next door.

Inside, the earth subject waited -sitting like a queen in her overstuffed chair. Her familiar hissed from her lap. A cat with the rattiest, dirtiest fur the Archmage had ever seen, it had a scrunched face, and wild eyes that spoke of madness even greater than her own. A deep growl of a pre-yowl vibrated in its chest, and the earth Sorcerer pet it absently, not bothering to look at Yarna. "You're not only mad. You're evil. My brother-"

"Is he a Sorcerer too?" Yarna interrupted, "We've had some trouble finding earth, and at the worst possible time." 

The woman lifted her chin proudly, "He is a Paladin of Horsa, and he will find me. The entire Temple..." 

"Is busy." Yarna said, shaking her head, "And so am I. We don't have a male subject for you yet, so until then, you will be working with Archmage Shaloon. Don't worry, she knows not to take enough blood to cause permanent damage. A few pints a week will be enough while we search for your future mate." 

Yarna turned to leave, but the noblewoman laughed, "You think you can manipulate me like you did those poor commoners?" Yarna turned back to find the woman smirking at her, the familiar hissing. "You can kill Precious, and that will only make me that much more likely to kill you myself when my brother comes." She stroked her angry little cat, and the beast purred, "You can threaten whoever it is you find, and he will not dare touch me. You can kill him, and I will watch and smile as you waste yet more effort and resources. Or you can kill me, and I will curse you from beyond the grave and watch from Horsa's great hall as my brother caves in your skull with his blessed flail." 

Yarna moved across the room to the woman's chair, ignoring the cat as it slashed at her robes with its tiny ineffectual claws. Grabbing the noble's chin, she held the woman's still smiling eyes, "The Temple will send no one. They are too distracted by the flooding and plague to even bother looking. And even if they did, your brother will never find you. Know this, Lady Raina, we have been striving to save your precious world for millennia, and we have other ways to use you, less kind ways than this."

The Warlock leaned down and didn't flinch as the cat scratched her neck -splattering the Sorcerer's face with her blood- she continued, "We will drain you and flay your skin, take bone from your arms and legs, and pull out every tooth, then let you heal and do it again and again until you die of old age and can serve us no further." Yarna dropped the Sorcerer's face and spun away from her and through the door, "Think about that as you plot and pray. And know that the death of your hope will amuse me more than those fools' pointless efforts at nobility next door." 

***

Sir Ragther stormed through the Temple, his black armor reflecting torchlight and flail bouncing with steady clanks. He stopped before the General's office and gathered his calm. Feeling the warmth of Horsa in his soul, breathing in the strength of his god, and steeling his own strength as the god demanded of him.

He removed his helm and held it under his arm, then opened the door and saluted to the General. His superior looked up, "Ah, Sir Ragther, you've heard..." 

"Lady Raina, a noble of Swailand, is missing. What is the Temple doing to find her?" He asked, remaining professional above the swirling rage. 

The General sighed but stood, spreading his fingers over his desk, "We are stretched thin, as you know. What do you propose we do, Lieutenant?" 

Ragther clenched his fist and answered, "Sir, someone has insulted, not only the nobility of our province but Horsa himself. The Duke's family has served the Temple faithfully for generations. By Horsa's might, we cannot allow this slight to go unpunished. I will lead the investigation and hunt for these criminals in our land."

"The Duke," the General nodded, "is in agreement. After much prayer, we have decided to place this investigation in your hands." Ragther tilted his chin proudly. Not only did his god continue to trust him, but the Temple could feel it as well. He would not fail.

The General continued, "You have been granted access to all Temple and Guild records and the Temple's full authority. But we cannot provide more than a few enlisted guards to assist. With that in mind, we have petitioned the Church of Soleil to send assistance from outside the province." 

"Soleil?" Ragther managed not to sneer at the name. The neutral Church worked closely with the Temple of Horsa but was even more closely allied with... "They will send knights of Hengist." he did sneer at that, the hate filling his heart at the name not wholly his own. 

The General mirrored the look of disgust but said, "No Paladin or Cleric of Hengist will cross our borders. You will need to make do with whatever they do send. Mercenaries most likely." 

"Tch," Ragther looked away, his eyes flitting back and forth over the floor as he thought. Mercenary adventurers would at least be more experienced than the standard city guard. And without direct ties to his Temple, they were expendable. Make do indeed. "Very well." he saluted to the General, who returned the gesture as a dismissal.

Someone had taken his sister... kidnapped her from the street with that little ball of fluffy hate that was her familiar. Even before reporting, Ragther had commissioned the Church of Lune to find her soul, they'd failed -meaning she was alive. 

The Paladin searched his soul as he left the Temple to make his way to the Mages Guild. He could feel Horsa pulse in him with every step, responding subtly as his mind ran through the different possibilities. It had been stupid for them to take a noble and risky to take a Sorcerer... His heart pounded a little harder, and Ragther felt he'd landed on something. Was that why they'd taken her?

He needed more information. The Church would send their help -as useless as it might be- but it would be a week or so until they arrived. In the meantime, he would find what leads he could and formulate the best ways he might use these tools placed in his command.

Ragther was going to find the imbeciles that had taken his sister, and crush them. No matter who he had to sacrifice to do it. 

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