Chapter 2: The Meeting

Jerrick awoke slowly, head throbbing like a pulsating… what's something that pulsates? It hurt to think, that's all he knew. He tried to raise a hand to rub his aching head, but he soon realised that he couldn't. For some reason, his wrists and legs were bound to a chair.

"He's awake!" Jerrick turned to face his side. Dustin was beside him, and smiling encouragingly at him. He was bound to a chair as well.

"What happened?" Jerrick asked.

"You were knocked out," Dustin said. "Then they grabbed you and threatened to kill you if we didn't surrender."

"So we did," Kari said. Jerrick turned to face the other side. Kari was bound as well.

"You shouldn't have done that," Jerrick said. "I doubt they would've killed me."

"I didn't want to take chances," Kari said softly. Jerrick nodded.

"How long have we been here?" Jerrick asked. Kari shrugged.

"Maybe about two hours?" She guessed. Jerrick looked around the room they were trapped in. It looked like they were in a guest room in a tavern. There was a bed by the side of the room. A table stood by the other side of the room, and somehow there were exactly enough chairs to tie up the five of them.

The door to the room suddenly opened with a loud click. Captain Jorgund stood at the doorway, and he was ushering someone else in. The man behind him entered. He had a goatee on his chin, and a large, ugly scar across his long face. It began just under his left eye, and it stretched across his nose and ended by the right side of his mouth. Jerrick winced at the sight. The man didn't seem to notice. His brown eyes seemed to analyse the room quickly, and he moved towards them. The man waved a hand at Captain Jorgund, and Captain Jorgund in turn waved at someone along the corridor outside the room. A soldier came scuttling in with a chair. So that's where all the chairs came from. Scarface, as Jerrick had decided to call him, took the chair and sat down in front of them. He didn't say anything for a while, he simply looked at them, particularly Jerrick, with keen eyes. Jerrick squirmed in his seat.

"So, do you plan on talking within the next year?" Jerrick asked. Scarface chuckled.

"Quite the smart mouth, aren't you?"

"You've been staring at me for an eternity." Scarface leaned back in his seat and folded his arms.

"What brings you to the Northern Markets?" He asked.

"We came to have a good time," Jerrick said.

"Is that so?" Scarface pressed.

"Obviously not," Jerrick said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I totally lied to you. We came here to intervene in your business. Right from the start, that was our intention." It took Scarface a few moments to realise that Jerrick was being sarcastic.

"Well, whether you meant to or not, the truth of the matter is you did. You interfered with us. Why?"

"Why not?" Jerrick said. Scarface sighed.

"Excuse me for a moment." He rose from his seat and walked back out of the room. Captain Jorgund closed the door behind them.

"What are you doing Jerrick?" Corey hissed.

"Trying to get us out of trouble," Jerrick replied.

"By answering them like this?" Corey retorted. "Don't you think that'll just get us into more trouble?"

"He doesn't look very happy," Helka added.

"And with the way you're answering him he wouldn't be any happier," Corey said.

"Guys, we attacked them and stopped them from doing… whatever it is they were doing," Jerrick said. "They wouldn't let us go so easily. I don't think what we say would matter."

"You won't know until you try it," Kari said. "Maybe you should try and cooperate with them a little." Jerrick rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Fine," he said. "I'll just roll along with everything they say." The door reopened, causing them to stop talking. Scarface walked back in, and Captain Jorgund stood at the door again. He walked towards them and took his seat in front of them.

"We never found the merchant again, do you know that?" Scarface began. Jerrick was relieved to hear that, but he didn't show it. Scarface continued talking. "How much did you hear?"

Jerrick looked at the others, silently asking if telling the truth was the right thing to do. They nodded. "Not much," he finally said. "All I heard was that the merchant refused to make some modifications that would probably end up killing someone."

Scarface seemed to accept this answer. "Why did you intervene?"

"I saw the merchant become really fearful when he looked at Captain Jorgund's belt. I guessed he saw a knife or some sort of weapon. Then when Captain Jorgund began advancing on the merchant, I decided to step in. I didn't want him to hurt or kill the merchant." Jerrick glanced a look at Captain Jorgund. He wasn't even looking their way. He was merely fixated on a spot on the ground.

"You make it sound like we're the bad guys," Scarface observed. Jerrick shifted uneasily. His father used to work here, why did he think they were the bad guys?

"That's what it felt like," Jerrick said at last. Scarface laughed.

"I can assure you we're not the bad guys." He rose from his seat and sauntered over to the table. He grabbed a flask of water and poured himself a cup. "All this thinking is making me thirsty," Scarface said. He took a few sips from the cup and then, after topping up the cup, he returned to his seat and sat down.

"I've been doing the talking," Jerrick observed.

"I know," Scarface said. "But I have been doing the thinking." He stared at Jerrick, making the poor teenage boy squirm in his seat.

"What do you want?" Dustin asked. Jerrick heaved a sigh of relief. Scarface turned to look at Dustin.

"I want many things, kid," Scarface said. "I want a new sword, I want to get rid of this scar on my face, I want a lot of things. But mostly…" He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and held it in front of them. "Do you know who this is?"

He was holding a drawing of a young adult. He had a mop of unruly hair and his fringe hung above his eyes. He had high cheekbones, and his sharp jawline and thin lips gave him an arrogant look. One thing he couldn't have been too arrogant about was his missing left leg. A metallic leg stood in its place instead. The description of a missing left leg rang a bell, but he couldn't recognise who the person in the picture was. Jerrick shook his head.

"He's known by many different names," Scarface explained. "Some call him the Dragon Conqueror, some call him the Dragon Master, others call him the Dragon Tamer… you get the idea. Basically, he tames dragons and rides them into battle. He ended the dragon raids on his home island and has been teaching people how to live peacefully with dragons. All in all, he's quite a good guy.

"Many people know his good side. The side which takes care of his own people, which puts others over his own needs. His stories have travelled far across the archipelago as well. He has led his team of dragon riders into battle many times, and has emerged victorious more often than not.

"But that's the problem. Most people only know his good side. People don't know his dark side. And it is his dark side that brings him the label of a terrorist. He's trying his best to achieve a utopia where dragons and humans can live together in peace. What people fail to realise is the sheer economic impact that his actions are causing. Dragon trade is declining, and that is one of the few trade staples outside the archipelago. With his attacks extending beyond the Barbaric archipelago, dragon trade has declined. The livelihood of certain tribes are being affected by this. Some of them rely on these trade routes for survival."

"I don't see how this makes him a terrorist," Corey said.

"Patience," Scarface said, gritting his teeth. "This isn't what makes him a terrorist. It's what he does to achieve this dragon-human utopia. He kills for it. People who stood in his way have died.

"And that's what makes him my greatest enemy. I have been trying to capture or kill him for the last few years, but to no avail. He always manages to escape."

"I thought you said you're not the bad guy?" Corey said.

"If you kill the leader of a villainous gang, are you the bad guy?" Scarface shot back.

"Killing is bad," Helka mumbled.

"I'm trying to kill the leader of a group that has killed so many people," Scarface growled. "Does that make me the bad guy? You know what, don't answer that." Scarface took another sip of water. "Anyway, now that you guys have interfered, I wouldn't be able to do so for a while. That's why I've been thinking. I've been thinking about how to continue."

"We're sorry," Kari said.

"Don't blame yourselves," Scarface said. "You didn't know everything."

"How would a modified weapon help to kill him anyway?" Jerrick asked.

"It's a long story," Scarface said. He took yet another sip of water. "We found out one of our men was giving information to the enemy."

"What sort of information?" Corey asked.

"Things like where our base is, what is our next plan, where do we plan to go, all sorts of things that would completely jeopardise anything that we plan to do. All this information makes us a prime target for an attack. Now that this information is out, we're basically sitting ducks, waiting for the terrorist to strike. Since he knows all our plans that involve going off our base island too, it would be tough to determine when he would make his move. So we can't do anything until he attacks. All we can do is set up traps, so we can capture him when he attacks. But I don't know who's trustworthy anymore. The one person we caught might not be the only mole in our team.

"So I decided to strike first. The problem is, how do we strike without alerting the enemy? The only way I could think of was by using the mole to strike back. No one would suspect that. Long story short, we planned to use weapons to supply 'secret information' to our men." He used air quotes around those two words. "It's a perfectly normal thing. We supply all sorts of secret information in many ways. But the difference is that this information is completely made up. The handle of the weapon would have a bomb in it made from Zippleback gas and Nightmare gel, and the bomb would be rigged to blow up in a few days time. Hopefully by then, the traitor would've given the weapon to the enemy. But you've ruined this entire plan." Scarface scowled at them. Jerrick dipped his head.

"But you can redeem yourselves," Scarface suddenly said. When Jerrick looked up, Scarface was looking at him with a smirk on his face. Jerrick suddenly understood what he meant.

"No, no, no! A thousand times no!" Jerrick exclaimed. "I will not help you kill him!" Scarface scoffed.

"Are you sure?" He questioned. "You don't want to help me kill a terrorist?"

"I'm sure," Jerrick said flatly. "I don't want to be a murderer."

"Killing someone who has killed many people doesn't make you a murderer," Scarface said.

"Yes it does," Jerrick insisted. He clenched his fists and leaned forward in his chair. Scarface sighed.

"Don't get so worked up. I have neither the time nor patience to discuss ethics with you anyway." Scarface turned around and faced Captain Jorgund. "Jorgund, untie them."

Captain Jorgund nodded. He called for his men, who quickly came into the room and began undoing the ropes.

"You're releasing us?" Corey asked incredulously while rubbing some feeling back into his wrists. "Just like that?"

"Like I said, I'm not the bad guy here," Scarface said calmly. "If you don't want to work for me, I won't force you to."

"Thanks for being so nice," Jerrick said sarcastically.

"I'm not being nice," Scarface said. "I'm simply giving you the option of choice. It's something you deserve."

"Alright then, well I choose to get out of here." Jerrick rose from his seat and began to walk out of the room.

"So be it." Scarface took another sip. "Before you leave, can I ask you a question, Jerrick Thurmond Brandt, son of Hagen Brandt?"

Jerrick froze. He spun around and faced Scarface.

"Your father was always talking about what a great son he had," Scarface continued coolly.

"My father never mentioned you," Jerrick said.

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting him," Scarface said coolly. "But Jorgund has told me many tales of your father. He always tells me stories of what his men do in the field, and I've heard the name Hagen Brandt appear many times. But how I know your father isn't important. What is really important is the question I'm going to ask you." Scarface stood up and placed the cup on the table before walking over to Jerrick. His hard, brown eyes gave him a stern and serious look.

"How eager are you to put an axe through the skull of your father's killer?"

Jerrick face darkened and his eyebrows twisted into a scowl. "Who is he?"

Scarface took another sip. "He's the very man I'm trying to kill."

Jerrick dug his nails into his palms and clenched his teeth. "Why didn't you tell me who he is earlier?" His voice sounded like a feral growl.

"You were too young," Scarface said. "You would've hunted him down until you got your revenge, even if you didn't know where he was. If you had done so, you wouldn't have lived a normal life. You wouldn't have made friends, you wouldn't have continued with your training. You would've been so obsessed, nothing would've stopped you. Even if you did find him, you wouldn't stand a chance. He uses dragons to kill. A Nadder killed your father. You wouldn't stand a chance against that dragon." Suddenly, Jerrick felt that the Nadder medallion in his pocket wasn't so beautiful any more.

"But now I can safely tell you who the killer was because you're older. You're more mature now, and I trust that you can make smarter decisions. You're better at fighting too. You also have your friends who will support you."

Jerrick hated to admit it, but Scarface was right. He looked at his friends. They seemed shocked at the revelation. He wondered if they would support him if he ran off to hunt down his father's killer.

"Let me ask you again, Jerrick," Scarface said, his voice cool and calm. "Are you in or not?"

Jerrick turned back to look at the drawing on Scarface's lap. He had no idea who killed his father before, and he could do absolutely nothing about it. But now, things have changed. He knew who the killer was, he was staring straight at a drawing of the man! His arrogant eyes stared straight out of the paper at Jerrick, as though he was taunting Jerrick. Come after me! You don't stand a chance, his eyes read. Jerrick closed his eyes and thought back to the day on the ship. The utter despair he felt, and then followed by the pure rage he released. The words he said on the ship echoed through his mind. When I'm older, you will pay. I will find you, and I will finish you. Now he had the chance to do exactly that. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. With a loud sigh, he replied to Scarface.

"I'm in."

"Excellent," Scarface said. He rolled up the drawing and stowed it back in his pocket. "Your weapons are with Jorgund. He'll show you where they are. Come back here at this time tomorrow, I'll tell you the plan. In the meantime, you're free to go wherever you want to go."

They followed Captain Jorgund along the corridor and into another room. All their weapons and armour lay on a table, and they grabbed it happily. Jerrick felt the familiar engraving on the back of his breastplate. JT Brandt. The engraving was small and on a separate piece of leather that looked out of place on the new piece of armour, but he couldn't bear to have it thrown away. His father had engraved that for him when he first joined the academy. A growth spurt meant that he couldn't fit into the original breastplate, but Jerrick had cut out the original engraving from the smaller breastplate and attached it onto his current one. It was no bigger than a finger and the words had somewhat disappeared into the fading leather, but they were still there. It was one of the few memories that he had of his father.

And now it was time to avenge the lost memories.

They followed Captain Jorgund back into the corridor and down a flight of stairs. An empty armour showcase stood in a corner between two flights of stairs. The stairs opened into a bar, and immediately the scent of alcohol hit Jerrick. People were drinking in almost every corner. There was loud shouting, cheering, and almost anything one can find in a typical bar. Jerrick couldn't be more relieved when they walked out into the open air. The sun had set, and the paths were illuminated by moonlight and the lamps that burnt by the side of the gravel paths. They began walking back to their ship in silence, Jerrick pondering over the events that had just transpired, and the rest were too afraid to begin talking to him after what had happened.

"So…" Corey said at last.

"So?" Jerrick replied, raising an eyebrow at Corey.

"So… that just happened…"

"Yeah." They fell back into an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry for all this," Jerrick said eventually. He raised a hand before any of them could say anything. "All this was my fault. Coming here, getting captured, choosing to go after this killer. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."

"Don't be daft," Kari said. "Of course we're going with you."

"We're your friend," Corey added. Jerrick couldn't help but smile at his friends.

"I mean it though," Jerrick said. "If you want to quit at any time, feel free to do so. Don't do this just because you feel like you have to help me."

"We're not doing this because we have to help you," Dustin said. "We're doing this because we want to help you."

"It's been plaguing your mind for the last two years," Helka said. "Now you finally have the chance to do something about it. Of course we'll help you with it."

"Thanks guys," Jerrick said.

"Besides," Dustin added. "We were the ones who started this whole thing." Dustin didn't meet Jerrick's confused gaze. "I didn't want a weapon. I only suggested coming here to cheer you up." Jerrick felt a pinch of guilt. At the same time, he felt a nice, warm feeling enter his heart. He didn't know what to say.

"Let's quickly get back so we can come here on time tomorrow," Corey suggested as they boarded their ship. Jerrick could do nothing but nod dumbly.