Chapter 3: A Fair Trade
The blazing heat of Shurima could have been unbearable to most, more so when the sun is at its peak. The air was still and dead, not even a tiniest bit of breeze rolled across the Shurima desert. Not a single wisp of cloud was seen either, hence the bright sun in the sky that shone with intensity.
As hot as it may be, the residents of Bel'Zhun wore long linen robes that covered every inch of their skin, and hoods that hid most of their faces. This protected them from the harmful rays of the sun, which if exposed one may be prone to dehydration, possibly even death.
And so Shyvana's father decided to use this to their advantage - they could cover themselves in robes and hoods and no one would suspect anything. They had been to other towns and villages where people wouldn't stop staring at their odd choice of clothing, leaving him no choice but to flee usually a few days later lest they find out who they really are.
Fortunately, they are dragons, which meant the heat hardly bothers them.
Good, the old dragon pulled down his hood to conceal more of his face. We could really use some time to settle down.
The old dragon looked at the hooded form of his daughter, carrying a sack over her shoulder that contained spoils of monsters and creatures that they had slew and hunted while traveling along the Great Barrier. They could trade the spoils with the merchants in towns and villages for a few bags of gold to buy them food and a room for the night. It had been a perilous journey through the Great Barrier, and he took the opportunity to train Shyvana, watching her grow stronger and wiser each day.
It had been years since they had left the Kumungu jungles.
Shyvana was now a young woman, having gone past puberty. Her bosom had grown into budding breasts, and her hips had grown wider. In the previous year, she had flowered, and he remembered how he flushed and struggled to explain what menstruation meant and how she should deal with it. Luckily for him, his daughter was a quick-learner. She understood quickly and could not help but feel amused at her father's embarrassment.
She was now almost as tall as him, but in dragon form she was still smaller than him. He was a Celestial dragon after all, one of the rarest dragons in Runeterra.
They were both walking towards a stone building with the sign of a shield at its front door. Armory, he thought. Blacksmiths usually offer higher prices for materials carved from monsters in the Great Barrier. The Great Barrier was known for its harsh climates and endless sandstorms, and creatures that lived there usually are more adapted to such conditions. Using their materials, weapons and armor made would be more durable and valuable.
They were about to enter the armory, when they noticed people walking faster, keeping their hoods down. Some gestured to the sky and the distant horizon. Merchants who were selling products out in the streets began packing their goods, and shopkeepers started closing the shutters and calling it a day.
He listened carefully, using his dragon senses to pick up the words the people of Bel'Zhun were saying. The people here spoke the ancient Shuriman tongue, and although conversational it took him a while to understand them. He caught phrases such as "… sandstorm….", "… it will be dangerous…" and "… find cover….". Regardless, it meant ill news.
"Father?" Shyvana took a quick glance at the people around them, frowning slightly. "What's the matter?"
"A sandstorm is coming. A great one, " he said and hastened his pace, his daughter following behind. "There isn't much time. We have to go to the inn and take cover, or all the travelers and merchants would have taken up all the rooms in the inn. We can sell these tomorrow,"
Shyvana's frown only deepened. "We didn't have much gold left, did we? How are we suppose to buy a room for two?"
The old dragon slipped his hands into his bag of coins, cursing when there were only three pieces of silver left. We will never make it, the damned blacksmiths will need time to weigh each spoil and decide its value. And by then, the sandstorms would be approaching….
"Why don't you leave it to me?" Shyvana asked.
"What?" he asked, incredulous with his daughter's suggestion. "It's too dangerous, I can't leave you out here alone,"
"You don't have a choice," Shyvana countered. "I'm not a child anymore. It's just a small errand, I can do it. Meanwhile, you can persuade the innkeeper to secure us a room,"
The old dragon's lips were pursed in a thin line. He hated leaving her alone, but she was right, they needed coins to buy them a meal and a room. He let out an exasperated sigh, and nodded in agreement.
"Just be careful," he lifted his sack and handed it over to her. "I'll meet you at the inn,"
Shyvana grabbed the sack and nodded, running towards the armory. The old dragon looked for directions to the inn, and soon found it.
When Shyvana entered the armory, it was the messiest place she had ever seen.
The forge was obviously behind the building, as she could feel heat emanating from that direction. Shields and bucklers were heaped in one corner of the store, lances and spears leaned against the wall opposite swords and war hammers. She was taken aback by the array of weaponry, and almost forgot the reason she was there until a voice called out to her.
"Child!" the blacksmith yelled in the bastardized Shuriman tongue. Shyvana couldn't help but cringe when he called her a child. She stared at him, hood still lowered to hide her eyes. "The sandstorm is coming, go home now,"
She was not skilled in the ancient tongue, but she was fluent in the bastardized, or modern version of it, and for that she was grateful. "I need gold," she pleaded, her tongue rolling with the harsh tones of Shuriman tongue. "I have materials that come from the great beasts of the Great Barrier. I'm sure you would like to take a look,"
He remained unconvinced. "No, I'm closing now," he walked out of the forge and was heading her way.
Shyvana panicked, and felt flames dance across her fingertips. "Wait!" she exclaimed. She willed herself to calm down and tried to put out her flame, then took a deep breath before reaching a hand into one of the sacks and fished out a round stone as large as her hand that shone with an eerie blue light, illuminating the dark interior of the armory. The blacksmith's eyes widened in shock when he saw what it was.
"The Eye of the Golem," his voice was filled with awe. "This is a rare material used for enchantment. Where did you obtain this?"
"From the Golem itself," Shyvana huffed, proud of herself. He looked at her skeptically, which Shyvana promptly added, "My father slew it. It took quite an effort to shatter the Golem's armor. But it is extremely rare, no?" she allowed herself a triumphant grin. No doubt the Eye could fetch a high price.
"Show me what else you have,"
Shyvana upended both sacks onto a wooden table, fangs and pelts and claws tumbling out of the sacks. It wasn't much, but most of them were rare materials. Only a few hunters or mercenaries dare venture far into the Great Barrier as the vile place was notorious for its dangerous monsters and vicious beasts. Shyvana and her father may be neither hunter nor mercenary, but they aren't human either.
The blacksmith lifted a weighing scale and an eyepiece before proceeding with weighing the materials and looking through his eyepiece, checking if the materials were forgeries. He warily lifted the Heart of Brambleback with armored gloves, hissing when the gloves began smoking. He turned over a Murk Wolf pelt and looked for any signs of scars, before inspecting the fangs and claws that Shyvana and her father had carved from raptors and giant lizards. His eyes shone with fascination when he saw the wraith crystals, a spoil that they had obtained when they stumbled upon a rare group of wraiths.
After all that was done, the blacksmith dropped a heavy bag in front of her. The bag hit the table with the sound of jingling coins, before he slit the bag open. Shyvana smiled excitedly when the coins fell out of the bag, but her smile died and was filled with disappointment instead when there were only three to four gold pieces, a few silver coins and most of them ironcoins.
Three gold pieces could only buy them a meal. She doubted that the innkeeper would accept silver, let alone ironcoins. They would be forced out of the inn while the sandstorm hits.
The blacksmith saw how her shoulders slump with disappointment, so he gave her an apologetic shrug. "That's all I have. Business has been rough. I can't afford the Heart, but I'll have the Eye of the Golem and the pelt. And these claws and fangs as well," he said, his hands retrieving the goods that he wanted.
"I need gold," she whined, her voice with a hint of anger. "I'm sure the Eye is worth much more than this,"
"I've got mouths to feed as well, child," the blacksmith fought back. "I do not have that much gold to offer, things had gotten rough lately. Bel'Zhun is a dying town,"
When Shyvana did not take the bag of coins, the blacksmith sighed. He reached to the back of the armory before appearing with a large set of rusty gauntlets. He dropped it on the table with a heavy thump, pushing the bag of coins forward.
Shyvana couldn't help but reach out a hand to stroke the faded red and golden metal surface of the gauntlet. She lifted one of the gauntlet and turned it over, surprised to find that the underside of the gauntlet was bone which was already yellow with age. Fangs and a row of sharp teeth protruded from the edges of the gauntlet, a leather strap where the wearer's hand would be.
She lifted the other gauntlet which was larger and heavier, with the same row of teeth but with longer fangs. She noticed the opposite end of the gauntlet had two jagged horns. When she matched both gauntlets together, she gasped.
It formed the head of a dragon, the steel that was fused with the skull and jaw had once been painted red and gold. Judging from the poor condition of the gauntlets, they must have met several owners. However, the craftsmanship was both delicate and splendid, a weapon that once emitted an aura of beauty and ferocity.
"Forged from a full-grown dragon's skull, before fusing it with rare Ionian ore," the blacksmith nodded with approval. "It may be rusty, but the steel and bone are still strong and tough. It can be used as a shield and also a weapon. Impressive, is it not? If polished, they would be returned to their former glory. The man who forged this must have been a prodigy,"
Shyvana was still dumbfounded, awestruck by the gauntlets' beauty and grace. The blacksmith grinned when he saw that she was attracted by the weapon.
"The dragon gauntlets for the Eye. Fair trade?" he asked.
Shyvana wanted the pair of gauntlets for herself, her instincts telling her to accept the blacksmith's offer. Then she remembered her father waiting at the inn, and her brows knitted with frustration. The gauntlets won't buy them a cover from the sandstorm.
"I still need the gold," she persisted, looking up at him. The blacksmith cursed with fury, his eyes seething with anger. Until something behind her caught his attention.
"I'll pay for the Heart of Brambleback," a deep voice rumbled.
Shyvana whirled around and saw three men clad in armor. They all look identical, with cropped brown hair and yellow eyes. The one in the middle who spoke wore chainmail with steel vambraces and greaves, carrying a pair of matching daggers at his hips. The largest of the three was covered from neck to toe with dirty grey steel armor, a greatsword strapped to his back. The smallest among them wore only a leather vest and leather breeches, with a crossbow strapped to his back.
Before Shyvana could ask who they were, the blacksmith spoke with reverence, "The Ra'khiri triplets. Bounty hunters. They are well-known throughout the northern regions of Shurima,"
The one in the middle, whom Shyvana assumed to be the leader, walked forward before pulling out a short sword and laying it before the blacksmith. "I'll help you purchase the Heart of Brambleback, and you will enchant my sword with it. I'll pay for the enchantment as well," he looked at the hooded figure beside him, his height easily surpassing hers. "You did say you need gold, did you not?"
Shyvana only nodded, flabbergasted with the three men's sudden appearance.
"Right away," the blacksmith bowed deeply, lifting the short sword and handling it with care. He immediately started working with the Heart, chipping its edges and pouring its fiery essence into a small metal bowl.
"Here," the young man gripped Shyvana's gloved hand and placed a few gold coins into it. When Shyvana counted the number of coins she received, she gasped. He had given her more than the Heart's worth.
"It's just -"
"Keep it," he grinned. "Hunting a Brambleback is no easy feat," He turned to the blacksmith and paid as well, his two brothers standing behind him like sentries. The one with the greatsword was always scowling, his lips curled in a grimace. Whereas the one with the crossbow looked carefree, eying the armor and weapons around the armory, until he caught sight of the gauntlets on the table.
"Are these for sale?" the smallest of the three asked, touching the rusted surface of the dragon gauntlet with admiration. Shyvana opened her mouth to say no, but the blacksmith cut in before she could say anything.
"I traded the gauntlets with this young woman for the Eye of the Golem,"
"That's a pity," the one with the crossbow frowned. He glared at her scornfully. "I don't see how a girl like you could even carry a weapon that size,"
"Kaj," the leader reprimanded. "You never know if this girl may be capable of kicking your arse. How else do you think she would have all these spoils?" he turned to Shyvana. "Forgive my brother for his behavior, he had always been the cocky one among us," he held out a hand, smiling apologetically. Kaj only sneered and mumbled a string of curses.
Shyvana grasped his hand in hers, shaking it firmly. "Forgiven,"
"You better leave," the blacksmith said, drawing their attention. He pointed towards the shutters that were trembling violently. The wind from the outside picked up the dust along the road, swirling into a miniature twister. "The sandstorm is coming," he turned his gaze to Shyvana, "We did have a fair trade, no?"
Shyvana lifted the pair of gauntlets and pocketed the bag of coins she had received. "Yes," beneath the hood, she grinned impishly. "It's a fair trade,"
When Shyvana entered the inn, it was in an uproar.
Travellers and merchants argued with the innkeeper, their raised voices shaking the inn. Shyvana looked for her father, pushing through the crowd and wincing at the horrible stench of sweat around her. Her father was in the middle of the crowd, hands raised either in an angry gesture or to placate the innkeeper, she did not know. Next to him was a burly man with hair everywhere but not his head, yelling at her father.
The innkeeper's face was red with anger, yelling that he had no rooms left to the crowd behind her father, at the same time shaking his fists at him telling him to fuck off. Until Shyvana slammed several gold coins on the table before the innkeeper.
The crowd kept quiet at once, staring at the small hooded figure who had entered without their notice. The old dragon and the hairy man looked at Shyvana with shock, surprised with her intrusion.
"Keep the change," Shyvana puffed her cheeks. "Two meals and a room for my father and I. I'm sure I offered more than this man did," she gestured to the hairy man.
The innkeeper quickly counted the gold pieces, biting each one hard to make sure they were real gold. He nodded to her and grinned, giving her the key to their room. The crowd behind her immediately dispersed, some leaving the inn looking for other shelters, some going back to their tables enjoying their ale.
"I have been gone for a while and the inn is in chaos," Shyvana whispered to her father, approaching an empty table. "What's wrong with them?"
"Some are desperate for a shelter, some just want to pick a fight," her father grumbled. She could see his face twisted with anger. "A while?! You had been gone for almost an hour!"
"The blacksmith refused to pay me for the Eye. It took me a while," she explained. A young maiden laid down two mugs of ginger ale before them, before serving them two plates full of food. "Well, not until -"
"This is an outrage!"
Everyone in the inn looked to the source of the noise, who was the hairy man from earlier. His face was almost purple with fury, his hand clenched into fists. He glared at Shyvana and her father, before rushing forward and grabbing her father by his collar, lifting him into the air.
"I had the room first, until your whore daughter turns up and took what I paid for!" he shouted into his face, spit hitting his cheeks. The hood still concealed half of the old dragon's face, or his assailant would have seen how his eyes shone with rage.
"Took what you paid for?" the old dragon spat. "'The one with the most coins is the winner', that's what a Shuriman trader would tell you. Plus, the innkeeper offered me the key. Did you not threaten the innkeeper with that puny sword of yours as well?"
He roared like a savage, and slammed the old dragon onto the table. He drew his sword and pointed it to his throat before Shyvana could grab him. Her father grunted, struggling against his tight grasp.
Shyvana's rage was boiling. She could feel her hands heating up, almost scorching the gloves she wore.
"Puny?!" he yelled. "Says the man who covers himself from head to toe even in the inn! Walking everywhere under a hood, that makes you a fucking craven," he looked at Shyvana with an amused expression. "And your daughter, perhaps she is lovely underneath. Maybe I can have a taste of her after I'm done with you, old man,"
Tiny wisps of flame danced across her hands, her gloves hissing when they came into contact with the heat.
"What do you say?" the man winked at her, grinning like a pervert. He licked his lips obscenely. "Let me have some fun with you, and maybe I'll consider offering the room to you and this craven," he hissed on the last word, slamming her father again against the table, the sword dangerously close to his neck.
Shyvana was ready to lash out, when a hand clasped the man's shoulder. He turned back, annoyed, and was met with a hard punch across the cheek. The impact thrown him off, landing face-first on the floor, his sword clattering noisily beside him.
Everyone in the inn gasped, while the innkeeper counted his coins nonchalantly, as though he had seen too much bar fights to even give a damn about it.
The assailant was a lot taller than the hairy man and her father, His scowl and glare were intimidating, as a few men retreated back into the shadows to keep as much distance from him.
Shyvana recognized him as one of the Ra'khiri triplets, the largest one with a greatsword on his back. His massive build blocked his two brothers, who stepped out from behind him. The leader, the one who gave her the coins, twirled one of his daggers in his hand, looking down at the hairy man with a disdainful expression.
The man on the floor reached out for his sword, which the man who had backhanded him quickly kicked away. He reached down and lifted him up by his tunic, glaring at him. The poor man struggled against his grasp, his feet kicking the air furiously.
The leader walked up to him and looked him in the eye. Fear showed on the hairy man's face instantly. Shyvana grinned, seeing how pathetic he looked.
"My name is Zahrul," the leader, Zahrul clapped his enormous brother on the shoulder, grinning like a sadist. "This one here is Gahara. You will leave the old man and his daughter alone, and walk out of the inn with that sword of yours, or I'll have Gahara hunt you down and punch the shit out of you. You best remember that,"
His sadistic smile sent shivers down Shyvana's spine. She rushed over to her father, who grunted and rubbed his jaw with his hand. They watched as the man nodded fearfully before Gahara threw him to the ground. He scrambled to the ground like a scared cat, quickly picked up his sword and ran out of the inn without looking back.
"That was close," Shyvana's father grunted, coughing several times. Shyvana rubbed his back with affection. He looked up at Zahrul warily, who was approaching them with a dagger still in his hand.
"Thank you again," Shyvana nodded. Her father looked at her with disbelief, his hand gripping her arm possessively. "I'm not sure what could have happened if it weren't for you,"
"You know each other?" her father asked, looking from Zahrul to Shyvana.
"He was the one who gave me enough gold coins to pay for food and shelter," she said. "He is a good man, father,"
"You don't know what good is!" he hissed with a low whisper, making sure that the triplets couldn't hear him. Zahrul looked at them both with an amused expression, before sheathing his dagger.
"I never asked for your name," he said. He offered his hand again.
"Shyvana," she answered before her father could protest, and shook his hand firmly. "I don't know how to repay you for all that you've done,"
"You don't have to. Any good man would help a lady in distress," Zahrul said. Kaj sniggered and scratched his ear ignorantly. If Zahrul noticed the old dragon's dislike for him, he paid no attention to it. "You both must be great hunters, capable of taking down the Golem and the Brambleback. I'm impressed,"
Shyvana was about to open her mouth to answer, when her father interrupted rudely. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, thank you for your help. This old man needs his rest. Now, kind young men, if you will excuse us," he didn't wait for Zahrul's response before dragging Shyvana by the arm, snatching the key from the table and walking towards their room.
Shyvana yelped furiously and yanked her arm away when they were at the door. "Father! That was rude!"
"Rude?" he said incredulously. "I was trying to protect you, God knows what he wants," he fumbled with the key to unlock the door.
"Protect me? He just fought that asshole who hurt you and made threats of wanting to rape me. It's not like you did anything when he pinned you against the table! And you were ungrateful as well!"
The old dragon kicked the door open angrily before glaring at his daughter. She could see that his eyes were filled with hurt, even though his lips were pursed in a thin line. "I was reaching for my dagger, I could have disarmed him as well," he flipped his cloak, revealing a dagger strapped to his thigh.
Shyvana crossed her arms across her chest, frowning.
"I can't risk anyone catching a glimpse of your face, even if they are good men," he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.
Shyvana refused to meet her father's gaze, arms still crossed and she stared at a wall.
"Rumours travel far, and who knows if one of the dragon-kin is nearby? You think they are good men, maybe that's because they don't know who you are," he added, and noted a shift in his daughter's pose. She looked at him guiltily, her head lowered with shame.
"I only wanted a friend," she confessed, her voice cracking.
"And you will have one, believe me," he placed both hands on her shoulders. "I just want you to make sure that you're not fooled. You had me worried when you were out there for so long,"
"I'm sorry, father," she said sheepishly.
He nodded and ruffled her hair affectionately, accepting her apology. He placed a hand on her back and urged her inside. The room was small and the shutters had been barred, leaving the room in darkness. It rattled with force, signalling the coming of the sandstorm. In the corner of the room was a large featherbed fit for two, beside it a small table.
"Father?" Shyvana spoke with a small voice. Her father smiled before taking off his hood and cloak, revealing his golden skin.
"We haven't eaten anything," she said. His stomach rumbled as though agreeing with her, and he slammed a palm on his forehead.
"Well, shit,"
Night came quickly and Bel'Zhun plunged into darkness, its temperature plummeting until it was chilly and freezing. The sandstorm, however, was still raging, the howls of the wind audible in the small settlement.
In the room, the old dragon found it hard to fall asleep. His daughter snored quietly beside him, her arms and legs curled as her back was pressed into his embrace. He adjusted the coverlets so that it covered her completely, an arm draped across her small frame.
He couldn't help but think about the events that happened earlier that day. What if that man had plunged his sword into his throat and killed him there and then?
He had no doubt that Shyvana would attack the man before he could touch her. He had no doubt that she would transform into a dragon and fly away as far as possible. It was what happened after that worried him. She would be lost and wandering around aimlessly, not know where to go or who to look for guidance. She would grieve for him, just as she grieved for the loss of her mother's love for her.
The old dragon shuddered in fear as he imagined the consequences if the dragons found her. They wouldn't just kill her, they would torture her out of sheer fun.
His train of thoughts was interrupted when he heard a small creak. A normal human couldn't have heard the noise, but he was a dragon. His body became rigid and his arms around Shyvana tightened. She groaned and tossed in her sleep, looking for a more comfortable position.
In the dark, the door was opened slightly. He could clearly see a dark silhouette moving from the door, his build suggesting that he was obviously a man. When he saw his height he gasped. He was as tall as that man who had attacked him and threatened to rape Shyvana.
The old dragon reached to his thigh and drew his dagger, ready to attack should the man come any closer. The shadow stopped moving when he reached the bed, looking down at the old dragon and his daughter. He waited.
The intruder suddenly lifted a hand, and the old dragon acted instinctively. He pushed Shyvana off the bed as the hand descended, a blade stabbing the featherbed where Shyvana had been earlier.
"Father?" Shyvana called out groggily, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"Shyvana!" he shouted as loud as he could, relieved when Shyvana stood to full attention. "Get clear!"
What he failed to notice was the intruder had turned towards him, pulling his knife out of the featherbed. Before the old dragon could throw the man off the bed, he thrust his knife with alarming speed.
Shyvana watched in horror as the blade sank into flesh, her father howling in pain.
Honestly, I didn't expect it to be this long. Let me know if you prefer lengthy chapters or shorter ones. Please leave a review! It motivates me greatly. :)