Dragon Quest: A Hero's Journey

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is related, remotely related, or is in the game, Dragon Quest/Warrior I. It is owned by Enix, Nintendo, and all related companies. All Original Characters, Stories, and anything that is not in, related to, or remotely related to the game, was solely created for creative and entertainment purposes. Thank you for your time.

Chapter Eight - Magic Testing and Information Gained

It was two days after his late night discussion with the king - and his father's promise to start asking the royal guards about Gwaelin's whereabouts - that Tomas found himself in front of an old man that he first thought was asleep or worse, dead. Said old man's whereabouts had varied depending on who he asked and when he asked, but eventually he found him in a room on the main floor of Tantegel Castle, just off the main corridor and reclining back in a chair on the other side of a small table. It took Tomas better part of the morning to find this supposed wizard that, according to several jittery maids and one courier, had taught quite the amount of mages over numerous decades. He was old even going by Lorik's own words and looked like it, too. Apparently this was the man that the king deferred to in terms of magical teachings and things in the castle, as well as counsel when the need arose, and had been alive during the previous two kings as well. Judging by the thinness of the man's skin, white hair, and small body, he looked like all it would take was one small push and he'd topple over from it, if he didn't die first before hitting the ground.

It wasn't as though Tomas didn't know that those who practiced magical skills tended to live longer then those who didn't, some of the Healers he had come across over the years were old enough to be his great-great-grandparent but still looked young enough to be his grandparent. From what little he understood about magical teachings, the longer one used magic and developed the talent, the longer they lived since magic often was several lifetime's worth of learning and imbued itself in the caster. So seeing the old man in front of him wasn't so much surprise that he was alive after all this time, Tomas couldn't believe that this man had been alive for this long despite knowing how long the majority of magic users lived. He wondered at this moment that if he used enough magic, learned enough of it anyways, that he could live many more years past the normal age of humans - that is, if he wasn't killed before the Dragonlord was slain. That thought was pushed to the back of his mind as he continued to study the man in front of him.

Tomas stared at him for several seconds, unsure if he should wake the old man or not; the next moment he found himself blinking his eyes open and staring at the ceiling above him, cackling laughter coming from where the old man sat. Taking a moment to regain what few bearings hadn't been addled, Tomas slowly sat up and blearily looked in the direction of the old man, who now was wide awake and leaning forwards, elbows on the table with his chin resting on the palms of his hands as he smirked at the younger man that sat on the ground. There seemed to be a few feet of distance put between them, as though the old man had pushed him backwards onto the floor without Tomas even knowing what had hit him. Tomas knelt where he was to make sure that the spell the old man had conjured up had lost most of its effects before he bothered to stand up, cursing himself more then the wizard; he should not have made the assumption that the old man was weak as he appeared and had ignored the warning that his man was a magic user. He still looked like it would only take a small gust of wind to knock him out, but Tomas knew he had to tread lightly just to be on the safe side and wouldn't make the same mistake again.

"What was that?" Tomas asked, trying to sound innocent as he stood up slowly and a bit wobbly. The old man smirked at him even more, if that was even possible, amused at either the feigned innocence, that Tomas was slightly disoriented, or both.

"Weak sleep spell, helps with the smaller creatures if you want to get away from battle quickly. Thought you might be out longer then you were, you're stronger against it then I thought you'd be. Still, damage can still be done in less than a minute if you're out there alone." The old man stood from the table, placing the palms of his hands on the table. He stared at Tomas in silence for several seconds before speaking again. "So you're the one that the whole castle is talking about, hm?"

"Depends on what you've been hearing and who's doing the telling." Tomas gave a forced smile as the old man walked around the table came towards him, and stopped in front of him for a moment before he walked around the younger man a few times.

"You're more of a fighter then a mage, wizard, or warlock, that much I can tell without seeing you do anything," he said once he stopped in front of Tomas and poked him in both arms. "Yes, I can see that you'll be a challenge, I don't get many who are that your age and lived to tell about it. Suppose its your blood that's kept you alive for so long, or blind luck."

"Lets just go with blind luck," Tomas growled through gritted teeth as the old man walked around him a couple times more, all the while giving a random jab in his arms, back, and chest; why he was doing that was anyone's guess. Giving him an odd and pained look, the old man once again stopped in front of Tomas and sighed deeply.

"You are getting tired of hearing about your ancestor, hm? Well unless you want to go hand yourself over to the Dragonlord now, boy, you might as well get used to it! Charlock's just over that lake if you fancy a swim!" The old man's eyes seemed to flare for a moment before they settled down back to their old, gray color. "My name is Gulliver, you can call me 'master' until I deem you fit to send to the next wizard who has the unfortunate task of training you."

"Next wizard?" Tomas felt as though he had been hit with the sleep spell again, his breath caught up in his throat like he had been slammed hard in the chest. He knew that there were other wizards and warlocks in Alefgard that still worked in secret with the king, yet he had it in his mind that the safest - and most reliable - way to get trained in terms of magic, was standing in front of him. "I thought that you'd be training me!"

"Oh but I am!" Gulliver smiled faintly, a bit ecstatic at the rising anger in his far too old pupil; it had been a number of decades since he last had helped train anyone with this much untamed anger. "Unfortunately you can only learn so much from me before the Dragonlord figures out that you're getting more then sword training, where its coming from, and decides to test Tantegel's magic defenses again." He gave Tomas a hard poke in the chest. "He knows who you are, knew from almost the moment you stepped onto this forsaken piece of land, most likely knows that you have magic about you as well. Won't put it past his own henchmen knows it too!"

"So why train me if this Dragonlord already knows that much?" Getting tired of being poked and prodded by a man that was well too old to be even looking at a spell book, Tomas looked him directly in the eye and waited for an answer. What he got was a few seconds of silence, Gulliver's sighing, and a shake of his head, before he spoke again.

"Because King Lorik gave the order, I don't like disobeying my king any more then I need to. Because maybe I want to see that son of a dragon squirm a little for a change, the gods know he needs to. Because while the Dragonlord might not like having Erdrick's line still alive, he's stupid enough to let a few live to see if they are anywhere near the old hero's strength. Because maybe I'm getting tired of training half wits who don't know the first thing about how to do simple spells and you, child, know more then a few simple spells even if you don't know it yet! Its in your blood - and the first lesson is not looking so damn disgusted or start getting angry every time your ancestor or your bloodline or your damn destiny is mentioned, so close your mouth!" Gulliver gave Tomas a glare when he opened his mouth. "Fools have gotten themselves killed for not honoring their blood."

"I'm not a damn fool!" Tomas snapped angrily, Gulliver raising a eyebrow at those words.

"You sure look like one to me." He turned his back to Tomas and beckoned him to start following him as he began to walk away. "Now if you don't want to swim yourself over to Charlock and give yourself up follow me, and I'll start you off with a few simple tasks to see where you are at with raw ability."

XXXX

Despite the amount of customers within the confines of Brecconary's inn's common room, and much of the noise had drowned out most of the conversation, there were still worried glances towards the table near the back of the room where three guards and Ronin Vala sat. The four had been there since around the time the sun had rose over the horizon, with the guards quietly listening to Ronin talk in a hushed tone about things that the common folk didn't really care to listen to nor did any of the four wanted them to know. Even when the guards talked among themselves and to Ronin the townsfolk still did not care; despite their apparent disregard of what was actually being spoken about, the town folk inside the inn's common room were still worried about something. It was not everyday that the royal guards took time away from their duties to converse with someone who had a bounty on their head and was now freely walking about as though King Lorik had given him some sort of pardon, despite seeing him roaming about in the last few days.

The three guards hardly been surprised when Ronin came to them early that morning after breakfast, asking them for a few private words outside of the hearing of the king and his counsel. One of the guards, Turner, already knew what Ronin wanted to talk about, having been one of the three that had helped take Ronin's son down to Tantegel's dungeon; he also had the scars to prove the reason why he already knew and the reason why he looked less then thrilled to be brought into this conversation. The other two, Himori and Brona, only went with Turner because there was little for them to do at such an early hour and they, like Turner, had a gut feeling as to what was going to be discussed at this table. Himori was the only one that looked uncomfortable, the other two merely hid their distaste behind mugs of ale, which Ronin was freely giving them without much of a thought as he had been given some coin by the king to do with as he wished and some of it would be used to bribe these guards with unlimited mugs of ale and food. Only Turner had turned down a mug after his second, keeping a suspicious eye on anyone that even came close to their table that wasn't a barmaid looking to refill their mugs.

"So that's where she is, very close by it seems," Ronin said after he processed all of the information he had been given by the three, looking closely at each of the guards in turn. It hadn't taken the three long to answer his questions about the whereabouts of Gwaelin, but it took them long enough to break down the actual location of the kidnapped princess, what kept her there, and if she was still alive. "If's she's been right there this entire time, why haven't any of you gone after her?"

"It's is little too close for comfort, like the Dragonlord's worst kept secret," Turner agreed, leaning back in his chair. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told your son the first day I met him: it's not worth it and there's too few of us to go after her." He then looked Ronin directly in the eyes and tapped a finger on the scars that went across one of his eyes. "Besides, what makes you think we haven't tried?"

"We don't like disobeying Lorik's orders any more then the rest of the country, but there's nothing more we can do outside of leaving the land undefended," Brona put in, taking the last chug of his ale in his mug. "Lorik knows that we're stretched thin, we're barely holding on as it is. We can't just go after every little thing in Alefgard."

"It's not that we don't want to rescue her, it's that we can't." Himori waved the barmaid off when she offered to get more ale for him as she collected the guards mugs, Ronin handing her a small purse of gold coin as she walked away from them. "There's also a problem, a big fire-breathing one to be precise."

"A dragon." Ronin took a gulp of his ale, the three guards nodding as he sat his mug down. He already knew that if Lorik's daughter was going to be held prisoner, either as an alive or a dead prisoner, her keeper would have to be something that was strong enough to keep the mightiest of Alefgard at bay. A dragon, regardless of how big or small it was, would do that. "That complicates things, when Tomas goes to rescue her."

The table went silent as the grave after Ronin spoke, the three guards staring at him with mouths slightly open as though he had just told them he was the Dragonlord in disguise. There was already talk about the one who would dare go up against the Dragonlord, the one that had come sailing on a ship not too long ago, and they didn't believe the words of rumor more then the next person. If the guards didn't know any better, if they thought that the ale was talking instead of a level head, then they believed that Ronin was trying to give them something to hope for, something to latch onto so that their spirits would lift. Instead they remained in stony silence, not speaking for several moments until one of them did speak. But what he said meant that there was someone who was crazy enough to try to defeat a creature that even their own legendary hero couldn't defeat, one who barely had any knowledge of he land he stood on.

"What do you mean, when?" Brona demanded, giving a glare to the barmaid as she came back to see if the four wanted any food for the morning; she slunk away at the guard's glare and chose a different table away from them to gather empty plates and mugs. "That's a sure way to get the Dragonlord's attention, by going after one of his own blood!"

"What makes you so sure he hasn't gotten his attention already?" Ronin asked quietly as he looked over towards Brona. "Besides you don't know Tomas as well as I do, none the slightest. When he makes his mind up on something he'll do anything to get it done, even at great cost to himself. Even if it means losing his life over."

"Look, we're not talking about some out of the way quest where you save the day and nothing bad will happen to you on the way back home," Himori stated, leaning on the table. "This is one of the Dragonlords own dragons and, if I'm not mistaken, one of his favorites. Do anything to one of them, especially one of the favored, and you'll be in his sights until you're dead."

Ronin looked down at the table in front of him, his eyes going out of focus. He knew that once Tomas had set foot on Alefgard that his son's life would not be his from that moment forward, which was partly the reason why he didn't speak much of his mother nor did little to push him towards finding her. From what little he had understood of his wife's family, and it's bloodline, it meant a death sentence for anyone that still lived there or came back because home called; the Dragonlord didn't care who the person was, so long as Erdrick's blood still flowed through their veins and that blood was spilled out entirely. If Tomas could do one thing to help the people of this land, one thing before he was taken by the dark bleakness, then it would be one thing that would give the people hope. And Ronin had little of it in the way that his only child could survive the ordeal that had been placed in front of him.

"Tomas is already good as dead as it stands," Ronin said quietly when he eventually raised his head up again. "If I can help him do at least one good thing before the Dragonlord decides he's done waiting and takes the first strike, then I'll do whatever it takes to anger him more."

The three guards didn't respond right away, all three looking between themselves and Ronin. They knew first hand, Turner being the most recent, on how bad getting Princess Gwaelin back would be, especially one that claimed to be a descendant of their nearly forgotten hero. If this Tomas already had a death wish, how hard would it be to back him up enough to give it a try? The Dragonlord had already taken much of their resources by force and sheer terror by just knowing how bad life on Alefgard was, maybe giving hope to this young lad wouldn't be so bad. Then again they knew better then to give hope when there wasn't any, no hope where even their own king had given up hope; what made this any different?

"If he decides to go do this, when will he go and how will he do it?" Brona asked finally. "It doesn't seem like the king will want him going out into the wilds of Alefgard unprepared and without someone watching his back."

"Right now Lorik wants Tomas to train as much as he can with the castle's mage until he can be passed off to the next one, wherever that one is at." Even Ronin didn't know where that one was at, at best it would be somewhere in Garinham or even Kol. "As soon as Tomas can gather enough magical strength, and can gather enough information to start his quest after the Dragonlord, he'll go after Gwaelin. I hope that there will be others that can follow him to wherever he needs to go, just to keep him alive long enough to face the Dragonlord. That is all I can assume right now."

It took only a few seconds before Turner smiled, gave one last look at his two comrades before turning to Ronin with a rather odd look on his face. "I've got nothing else to do, when do we go?"

XXXX

The castle of Charlock was as cold as it always had been, the warmth from the late afternoon sun did not touch the castle nor the island that this castle, and it's few inhabitants, called 'home'. The creatures that lived on the island, the few that were powerful enough to guard their master from the rare threat that washed upon the shores, the ones that could survive the unforgiving landscape that was the island of Charlock, were growing restless with each passing day; they knew something was out there, something that their master was keeping from them and they wanted to do something about it. They also were tired of moving along the shoreline, swamps, and rocks, with no threat having come ashore in too many years to count, they needed something to do besides guard their master from a non-existent threat. Only a few of the smaller and weakest of the Wyverns left Charlock to see what pulsed at the back of their minds, a beacon that the Dragonlord felt every moment of every waking day, but were struck down as soon as they landed on the mainland near Rimuldar. Not by the humans that lived near the small town but by their own master; it would not do justice to the Dragonlord if they left so soon and when they were not ready to face the one that he feared might, one day, be his own end. He did not want them to be going off without instructions, without a way to keep this new beacon from a fate worse then death.

Even as the Dragonlord paced along the false throne room on the ground floor of his castle he felt the pulse of Erdrick's heir at the back of his head. For the last four days he had a headache from the beacon that was put on this one, this pressure he hadn't felt since the last one had tried to get to the island of Charlock some forty-five years prior. That one, a female he couldn't recall the name of, at least had the strength to fight the aquatic creatures that swam around the small island and had managed to get two floors into the castle before she had been killed by a few of his own henchmen, her bones were added to the false throne he paced in front of. She hadn't the armor that Erdrick had been famous for, which now rested somewhere to the south of the land, in a town that had been destroyed some decades before, nor did she bother to look around the false throne room that the Dragonlord now paced around. If she had bothered at least to take a look around, she would have at least found Erdrick's sword laying underneath a false stone behind the marble and bone throne that the Dragonlord stopped in front of, a hiding place that had since moved the sword elsewhere in the castle.

Staring at the wall in front of him, the Dragonlord grabbed his robes and held tight onto them. There had been eyes and ears that he had dispatched across the water towards the castle of Tantegel to see who this descendant of Erdrick really was, to see if there was any threat to their master or if he didn't have to worry about the one who carried the bloodline. The few that returned had conflicting reports on this beacon, some said that it was a man that could do both might and magic and was one to be feared; others told that it was just a child, no older then thirteen, who did nothing but play at being a solider. Even another report suggested that the descendant was nothing more then a ruse to keep the Dragonlord's minion's at bay long enough for the true heir to come after their master and vanquish the evil that plagued the land. Whatever the report was, whatever he felt pulsing at the back of his head, the Dragonlord was beginning to unhinge at the thought that there was several persons on Alefgard that had the power to stop him once and for all. And any one of them could make their way to Charlock without hesitation, with the power to create the means to link the mainland with the island once again.

The Dragonlord turned towards the false throne, his eyes scanning the room he was in and taking in the gloom surrounding him. It had been far too long since he last had anything that could match his strength, anything that could make what Erdrick gave him in brute strength when he, the Dragonlord, had to use much of his strength to keep him at bay, and still manage to best him. In truth he had become rather bored with the life he was leading, with Alefgard being afraid of what he would do if even a small group of soldiers decided to recuse the princess of theirs. A half smile came to his lips, a thought of what he might decide to do if the population of the land had decided to get some hope to their mind and live as though they thought there was someone that could stop their overlord once and for all. His mind ran through the possibilities of this so-called beacon could do to him, of the possibilities that would happen, and the Dragonlord felt as though not one of them would lead to his defeat. If the "hero" of Alefgard couldn't best him, why would one of his descendants be able to?

Closing his eyes the Dragonlord reached out to some of his favored dragons, both big and small, with a few altered instructions. These dragon's had served faithfully over the years and although many had been harmed by the humans of the land, they had won time and time again and had reached the point that they had become their master's favorites. It did not take long for these dragons to respond to their master's requests, to see the what and the why that their master wanted them to do; only three were not happy at what their master's new instructions. They would eventually learn that what their master wanted was more important then what they thought was right, was more important then the instructions they had been given before. After a few minutes of magic induced torture, given over mind and body, those few that questioned their master's new wishes now bowed and groveled in their burrows and dungeons. They now would do what their master wanted them to do, do what they needed to ensure that their future was not compromised.

To do what the Dragonlord wanted: to finally have someone that he could fight on equal ground since the time of Erdrick.

XXXX

By the time night had fully fallen, Tomas staggered back into his rooms in the castle, too tired to think past getting into bed with his body weak from going up against the wizard Gulliver since that morning. He hadn't expected the old man to have that much energy in him, enough that it took hours for Tomas to even get a few steps ahead of his new master. At the end of the training session, ten hours later, he was no where near being ready to learn the simple spells that Gulliver wanted him to learn and not even a step in the right direction to knowing when he'd be able to see the next wizard that could train him in advanced magic. Not that he wanted to learn faster, if this was the way he would be learning magic he wasn't so sure he wanted to learn more then the basics to get him from Tantegel to Charlock.

Leaning his forehead on the door to his room, Tomas closed his eyes and envisioned himself already sleeping in his bed. It was only a momentary relaxation, before he pushed himself from the door and opened it, walking inside and closing the door behind him. Servants of the king had changed his bedding since that morning and had lit two candles for his return from within the castle; there were no bowls of soup this evening, no pieces of bread and cheese with mugs of spiced wine or ale from the kitchens. Even if the cooks had brought him up food for his dinner Tomas wouldn't have eaten, he was far from hungry even though he hadn't eaten in the last seven hours. He was too tired to even think about food, too sore to bother with getting anything into his stomach to quench his hunger; his magical teacher had made sure that his student's body had been pushed to it's limit enough to not want anything but a few hours sleep.

Despite feeling sore, tired, and ready for sleep, Tomas sat down on his bed and stared at the candles on the small table in his room; despite how his body just needed sleep he was not fully ready to go to sleep just yet. For some reason he kept going through the motions of the small spells he had been taught that day in his mind, Gulliver's voice echoing in his mind as he had pushed, prodded, and poked the younger man as much as he could. As much as he wanted to test what he learned, he refrained from weaving the words that would make the flames on the candles flare up then once the magic had lost it's touch, move back down to it's original flame. The need to learn and use magic since he had used magic against the slimes several days before had grown since coming face-to-face with Gulliver and at the moment he did not feel worried that he would overdo it in any training that was given to him. If he could keep his mind focused on that this was just like learning how to use a weapon, a new weapon, then perhaps he would not be so against learning how to use his new powers.

Only time would tell just how much he could do with what he could learn and needed to know.

Until Next Time