This is my first story so all feedback both good and bad is excepted.
The storm infused as Morg made his way to the Lucky Star Tavern. He took the long way around the castle to buy enough time to put on his cloak and secrete his face. Its best people don't know me. Morg thought as he walked in to the tavern. Drunkards bellowed and howled. Maybe he should have come sooner? He over heard a conversation at the corner table.
"Found a strange book, kind of foreign don' cha think?" the bald, bearded man said before he pushed an old water damaged book to the redhead across of him.
"Hmm… Not from around here. That's for sure." A smile slowly crept over Morgs face. He walked up to the two men. The bald man turned and looked at Morg. "Can I help you?" Morg gave a slight bow and lied through his teeth, "My name is Reco, scholar of Norka. I see you have an Archagraph, and I was wondering what price it will take to part you of it?" The man gave a devilish grin, "four gold no less." Morg smiled. Great, a pushy bugger. "Very well." Morg tossed him four gold and the redhead passed him the book. Morg opened it.
"The tome of the dragons." Morg whispered, but not quiet enough, the bald man averted his attention. "Dragons you say?" Morg saw this coming. "I'm afraid I didn't know the full worth of that book."
"And I'm afraid you no longer own it." Morg turned and walked away. The man stood up and drew a four-inch dagger. "I guessin' you be given that back, now?" Morg answered by turning, drawing a short sword. The sword was covered with runes like the one in the book. "Guess again." The man smiled "Scholar you say? Never heard of a scholar that wields a sword." Morg lowered his sword, "Now you do."
The man lunged at him. Morg deflected his attacks and showed no attempt to counter them. Slowly the audience noticed how quickly the bald mans energy depleted and the runes grew darker. The fight lasted less then a minute before the man fell half-dead. Morg left the tavern and disappeared in the darkness.
Eifenth woke in a cold sweat. Him again. What was his name again? Reco? No, it couldn't be that, Reco was a Northern name. The Lucky Star Tavern is in Gradca west from where he was and he's far south. Eifenth brushed his white hair, then stood up and washed his face. The water was freezing, but it woke him up.
Next, he looked out the window. It was still nighttime. He sighed as he threw on his work clothes. I'll go to the pond, to think this through. He thought as he crept out the door. Good thing Enginaoth and him didn't sleep in the same room anymore. Blasted Enginaoth woke up if a pin hit the ground. No luck sneaking out then.
The trip to the pond was uneasy, he felt like he was being hunted. He tripped over a piece of steel. Grunting he went to see what it was. It was a lose scrap of metal. He chucked it aside and walked towards the pond again.
He was a house distance away when he heard low grumbling sound. He froze, crouched down and crept close to a tree and looked into the lake. He gasped. Was that? Yes… a dragon. Its plate-like scales were indigo. It has a serpentine, short body with a stubby tail and neck, and muscular limbs with four digits on each foot that end in very short claws. It has close-set wings running from its shoulders to the middle of its tail. The dragon's head was misshapen. It has small silted nostrils, narrow eyes that are the color of ripe lemons, and projecting above its nose was a single horn. It was rare to see a dragon but why is it here of all places?
Eifenth scanned the dragon. It was pinned. The wing was heavily impacted. A thought came to Eifenth mind but he banished it quickly. Interacting with dragons was illegal, Punishable by death just like witchcraft. He turned to leave.
Leaving so soon?
Eifenth froze. What was that?
It's unlike you to turn a blind eye to a thing in need.
It was right. The dragon was pinned. It will have a slow death of starvation.
"Who are you?" Eifenth looked around and saw a shadowy figure in one of the trees.
"Call me… Morg." The figure said as it moved down one branch. It was a man, Eifenth was positive of that. The man chucked a book at his feet. Eifenth jumped back and let it hit the ground. The book was a hardcover, the stem was lined with gold, pure gold. The words on the book weren't English. As he picked it up he focused on them carefully. The letters started rearranging themselves into English. He read it out loud, "The book of cures."
Morg gave a cold chuckle, "Well are you going to help the dragon?"
"Interation with dragons is punishable by death!"
Morg yawned, "So is witchcraft, but that doesn't stop me. The people who misuse their powers get caught, not people who are careful."
"I… guess."
"You don't breath a word about me and this meting never happened. Okay?"
"Fine." And just like that Morg disappeared.
Eifenth walked over to the dragon with the book in front of him. The dragon growled and Eifenth crept back. He opened the book and looked for an appropriate cure, "Chicken pox, kidney failure… muscle regeneration." That would work. He thought as he chanted the spell.
"Carved from stone an angel of flesh and fire
from the ashes I created from desire
And here you are with lovers scar
Not a blemish on the stone but a chisel to your neck"
The wound started to heal. The skin linked together and after the wound was barely noticeable. The dragon turned towards Eifenth and spread its wings fully. Eifenth didn't know if he should cower or nod of approval. The dragon opened its mouth and a golden mist came out and engulfed Eifenth. A strange feeling came over Eifenth. Tears rolled down his cheeks. What is this? Eifenth thought as he tried to brush the feeling away and failed. The dragon spoke, "You have my thanks, Yervesodth." Why did he call me that? Eifenth was falling to sleep and the last thing he saw was Morg standing in the shadows.
Resources
Chyna Parker - Angel of Fire (Poem)