Zillah balanced herself on the branches of the tree and scanned the landscape. Darien watched from below, holding the stone slate beneath her arm and pressed against her side. She silently admired the pawn's litheness as the strider climbed. The Arisen was pleased that the new armor they purchased was holding up alright. The pawn wore a black lorica over her tunic, which was a vast improvement from the plain clothes that came from the Rift. Darien was able to secure a bronze cuirass. It was sturdy enough, although heavier than anything she had worn before. It's not as if a Cassardis fisher needed armor. She was, however, a bit disappointed how it looked like a metal dress instead of the armor she had envisioned, and it, amazingly, made her hips and thighs appear bigger. But aesthetics come in second to defense.
Darien thought that Zillah would have made a better Arisen if things had been different. She turned her attention to the grassy hills of Northern Gransys. Even from the ground, she could see far into the distance where fewer trees stood to block her vision, but she knew the pawn had remarkable eyesight, and was most likely to catch something Darien missed.
"Anything?" she called out.
The pawn grabbed the branches above her and lifted herself higher. Loosened leaves fluttered down around Darien. "Nothing of yet," Zillah said, "There are snow harpies in the distance. If we near their domain, we risk inciting them."
Darien rolled her eyes. She dropped her shield and she fell back onto her rear, laying herself back. The bronze cuirass she wore made comfort difficult, but she wasn't planning on removing her armor. Darien took the stone slate and balanced it on her face. It was cold and heavy.
She heard the soft thud of Zillah landing on the ground. "Does that help you concentrate, Master?" she said.
"No."
Darien felt the slate lifted from her. She looked up into the pawn's face.
"Have faith, Arisen. I'm sure we will find the answers we seek."
Darien sat up and rested her arms against her knees. "I don't share in your enthusiasm." She waved her hand at the slate. "In truth, we've been sent on a fool's errand. Even if we find Hillfigure Knoll, what then?"
The pawn stared back at her silently, holding the slate within her arms. Darien sighed, picking up her shield and sliding her arm into the braces. She came to her feet and swept a few wayward leaves from her armor.
"Let's go."
Darien thought back to her meeting with Maximillian Eizenstern, the Duke's commander of the Wyrm Hunt. Dragon, scar, Arisen and heart, were the only words the scholars could translate. But that was more than enough for her to be given the task of discovering the meaning behind the stone slate. Darien and Zillah scoped the city for more information, and concluded that Hillfigure Knoll was their best lead, if it could even be called that. Somewhere in this area there was a supposed drawing of a warrior with a scar across his chest. Awfully familiar.
Even Maximillian admitted her task being of less urgent nature. Darien was, at first, relieved to receive a quest that didn't specifically involve dangerous beasts, but was later disappointed by how seemingly impossible and trivial it was.
At least it was a lovely day in Gransys.
"The others return, Master," Zillah said, nodding down the hill.
Darien watched the two additional pawns approach. Hawk, a lean fighter with a slick ponytail and rough, tan skin. He was armed with a sword and shield, and wore a dark red tunic and grey trousers. He was one of the snappier pawns Darien had met, who always seemed annoyed by something. Although, that couldn't have been right since his kind were known to lack will. Of course the other pawn was a mage, Ruby, with curly, blond hair and a dark green robe. She was soft spoken, and regularly expressed displeasure in battle.
"Arisen," Ruby said, smiling.
Darien was, at first, nervous about enlisting the aid of a pawn who resembled a young girl – 15 or 16 perhaps – but was quickly corrected by Zillah, who reminded her the pawn was likely ten times Darien's age.
"We found what appears to be a drawing of a person," the mage continued saying, "It is to say, a very large person. And not a very detailed drawing, if I might add. But it is very big. Oh, and he, or she, has a scar across the chest – " She raised her hand with the mark. "-like this!"
Hawk nodded. "Mayhaps it is the Hillfigure Knoll."
"Perhaps," Darien said, and then added with more excitement, "It could be."
Ruby came up to her. "Oh, and flowers Arisen."
"Flowers," Hawk said.
The pawn handed Darien a single Sunbright. The Arisen slid the flower behind her ear absent-mindedly.
Darien followed the pawns. She was relieved they went nowhere near the harpies' domain. Zillah was skilled at slaying the flying fiends, but Darien did little more wildly wave her sword in the air in a desperate attempt to hit anything.
They came to a wide opening where large stones sat. A few large boulders sat alone, and a flat slab rested upon to rocks. Darien came around and observed the ground, at first not noticing the thick line on the earth. She followed the length of the mark and found that there was something manmade in the dirt. Zillah kept her eyes on the ground as Ruby went on about the drawing.
Darien paused and watched the pawns, forcing her arms to stay at her side. The cavity in her chest ached with an eerie warmth; one not unlike the sensation she felt when she first met Rook; and before that, when the dragon spoke to her through her scar. She didn't want to worry her company.
The voice that pulled Darien from her thoughts was so quiet and aimless that she hardly recognized that someone was speaking. She stepped away from the stone structure behind her and tried tracing the sounds.
"Him who knows that I know," someone said, "what he seeks to know, knows it well."
Darien tilted her face up. A man sat upon the top of the boulder, staring at something far away or nothing at all. He was pale skinned, and wore a robe dirtied by age that was tied over his left shoulder. His dark brown hair was swept back save for loose strands that framed his gaunt face. He was lean, lanky even.
He kept speaking. "While he who knows not, knows not what I know, or know not."
Darien stared quizzically at him, unsure how to even greet him if she should. The man peered down at her, emotionless. Hot pain erupted in Darien's chest. She stepped back from the sudden sensation and tried clutching her chest, which was impossible because of the armor. She took an angry breath and glanced back up.
He stood before her. It took a moment for her to realize that this person was someone else. This person wasn't as lean, with wide shoulders. The resemblance was still there, however. They both had the same, thin hair and angular face. This man wore the same sort of robe, tied loosely around him which exposed his chest and the obvious scar over his heart. The clothing might have been white at some point, but was faded and worn. Most interesting, however, was the man's arms and feet, which seemed to Darien charred black like coal.
"You see me, yes?" the man said.
Darien nodded. She felt like the person in front of her would disappear if she made any sudden movements.
"Then congratulations are due," he said, stepping forward. "You have found the man you seek. I am…Or was, perhaps like you. A child of man, bound to the dragon."
The one who once sat upon the stone formation now seemed to emerge from behind from the man like a shadow and equally as silent as one. Darien realized that he was a pawn. And that meant this man was…
"Arisen," he said, confirming her suspicion. "And I greet you, young Arisen. I am he who was forged by the dragon, much as you are."
Darien hadn't realized the Zillah was at her side, with the pawns close behind. She had trouble finding her voice.
"Come, young one," he said, "We will speak more inside."
The Dragonforged had made his home in a cave. To Darien, it wasn't a particular a homely one, but it was dry, and well lit with the numerous candles scattered about the den. Their host took a seat in a makeshift throne opposite of the entrance, waiting patiently as Darien and the pawn came in. The Arisen was hesitant, but Ruby and Hawk immediately started investigating. Zillah stayed at Darien's side, staring at the Dragonforged.
Darien cleared her throat. "Ser, uh, well met. I am – "
"The Arisen of the present day, new-forged link in the grand chain," he interrupted. "Your name is unimportant, a trivial convenience of your past. You are now the one chosen to take part in a destiny that many have traveled, and many more will."
Darien was frowning, and let the silence answer for her consideration.
"All I know is yours to hear, if you desire it."
Where to start? She shifted her weight to her right leg, and ran her hand through her hair. She could hear Ruby's voice from somewhere deeper in the cave, likely in a one-sided conversation with Hawk. Darien looked back at Zillah, who stared back at her thoughtfully.
"What is an Arisen?" she finally asked.
The Dragonforged sat back, completely at ease. He rested the side of the chin on his fist, and his explanation flowed out of him like water through a sieve. "The Arisen is a child of man," he said, "No more, no less. 'Tis said the Arisen is born whene'er man takes his first true step toward a goal. When the spirit gives rise to action, a man becomes Arisen. Those, like us, whose paths lead to the dragon are known unto the beast as a matter of instinct. Just as it is our own instinct that guides us on."
"Wait, wait," Darien said, stepping forward a bit. She realized she had her hands up in front of her, and lowered them. "Like us? Then you are…"
"I am he who was forged in the dragon's fire. I stand astride the bounds of life and death, remaining here that I may pass my knowledge on to the Arisen of each coming age. We are separate in that I have already made the decision to the inescapable choice all our kind must one day face. You too, will come to the choice that will determine your fate. Yea, many lifetimes have passed since the dragon took from me my heart, and many more years will pass before my time comes. Nor shall it, until the Arisen to follow me strikes the dragon dead."
"What choice?"
"You will know when you are faced with the decision. I cannot know what circumstances will surround your encounter with the dragon, but I know it will be the most critical moment of your existence."
Darien crossed her arms. "Many lifetimes have passed? Then you are…very old?"
"As long as the dragon lives, the hearts in its safekeeping know no death. Our kind may die in battle, aye, but neither age nor illness will ever claim us. We have stepped free of this mortal coil, Arisen."
Darien arms fell to her sides. "I am immortal?" She shot a wide-eyed look at Zillah. "No. Surely not."
"You can still suffer a fatal blow in battle, Master," the pawn said.
Darien faced the Dragonforged. "But I can't die from age?"
"But you can still die in a matter of ways, Arisen."
"Why-" Darien said, regarding her pawn again, "did you know about this?"
Zillah was, as always, hardly emotive. "It is not your age that concerns me, Master. It is what can harm you that is my priority."
Darien's eyes narrowed, but she turned back toward the Dragonforged. A dozen questions swarmed her mind like bees. "What am I supposed to do, as Arisen?"
"We are all part of the cycle, but it is you who must decide the role you take."
Darien considered the man's words, but realized he hadn't actually answered her.
"…The Arisen needs know little, and needs do still less. There is but one mantra you need hear, in truth: Follow your instinct."
"Follow my…Do you know what I did before this Arisen business?" she challenged, "I was a fisher of Cassardis. I haven't even a family name."
The Dragonforged didn't budge from his place. "The dragon cares not of your lineage or your occupation. Your will is what matters."
Darien let out a long sigh. She began making her way to the exit. "Excuse me, a moment. I need some air."
Her hands rested on the hilt of her sword as she exited the cave. She didn't stop walking even when the sun blinded her, and a shiver ran through her despite its warmth.
Darien had learned nothing. Nothing of importance, at least. Immortal? She highly doubted that. She thought to herself, should she believe everything the Dragonforged had said? Incredible things had happened, but that didn't mean she was about to believe every incredible statement. Having her heart ripped out turned her into a believer of many things, but the thought of her having some sort of important destiny seemed absurd. And what was the point of a destiny if no one knew what it entailed. She hadn't changed, surely.
Darien opened her eyes. It was quiet there. If she listened carefully, she could make out the whisper of the breeze through the trees, and the chorus from distant harpies. It sounded nothing like the melody directed to their prey. Darien wondered if she was ever able to hear her heartbeat.
She hadn't noticed Zillah had followed her.
"Arisen," the pawn said carefully, "Are you well?"
Darien stared at Zillah, her mind blank. "Yes," she said automatically. She left her hands fall to her sides. The pawn had confirmed Darien's immortality. That much, the fighter, was sure of, despite how ludicrous it seemed.
Darien broke eye contact and rubbed the back of her neck with her right hand. She smiled nervously. "Is what he said true?"
The pawn tilted her head.
"Destiny…Being tied to the dragon." She shrugged, attempting not to look too confused in front of the pawn. "Ah, what is the point of a destiny if no one knows of it and I get to choose my own actions? If I remember correctly, a destiny is supposed to be something dictated by the Maker or somewhat. And I am in no one's control, methinks."
Darien's armor was starting to feel stifling. She looked off into the distance, considering how lovely it would feel to strip off her gear and take a nap in the grass. She had time. More than a lifetime, it seemed.
"I don't believe I actually learned that much from this Dragonforged," Darien said, stretching. She was unsure what to do with herself. "What a waste of time. Time…Maybe not if I have all the time." She added a pathetic attempt at a laugh.
Zillah watched her silently. Darien could just imagine what the pawn was thinking. Perhaps the strider was silently displeased with her assigned master, Darien thought.
"What good is there in an immortal fisher?" the Arisen continued, "surely there have been those considerably more deserving than myself to earn such a boon."
"Arisen," Zillah said softly, "Is there anything I can say that will ease your tension."
"I'm not tense," Darien replied too quickly.
The pawn spoke clearly but softly, as if she were afraid her master would scatter like a colony of gulls at any moment. Darien was no stranger to this sort of tactic. Quina used to use the same softness when she feared Darien might do something rash. Valmiro did as well, but normally to ease her fury when he did something stupid.
"Perhaps I am mistaken, but I am aware that humans are in awe of death. Surely the news of your immortality has been a surprise to you."
Darien raised her eyebrow. This pawn was surely one of keen insight.
Zillah closed her eyes and bowed. "I apologize, Arisen. I should have been the one to tell you. Perhaps if I were the one to give you this information, then you would not have been so caught off guard. Tis' my mistake."
Darien sighed and relaxed. Zillah's pure sincerity had a calming effect on her.
"Forgiven," she said, "but is there anything else I should know?"
Zillah straightened herself. "I am afraid I know little more. But I swear to you, I will learn more, and all my knowledge will be yours."
Since first meeting the pawns, Darien had disliked their dedication to her. It had felt undeserved and unnecessary. But Zillah's promise warmed Darien.
"There were multiple scrolls in the Dragonforged lair," Zillah said, "pray, give me time to read them, so that I might share this new knowledge of you."
"Wait," Darien said, "I'll come with you. It'll be faster with all of us working together, methinks."
Darien unrolled the scroll as carefully as her clumsy hands could muster. Everything the Dragonforged kept was old, stained with age, and fragile as much as it must have been valuable. She kept a candle close in the dark space, but not too close in fear of igniting the parchment. With a patience atypical of Darien, she rolled the scroll out in its full length.
Darien was literate, but a dozen unfamiliar symbols were scattered regularly throughout whatever narrative rested there. The painstakingly drawn illustrations, so detailed and intricate, was what caught her eyes. There was an intricate circle with unidentifiable symbols along its circumference with a monstrous dragon on the right, a person with no distinctive features on the bottom, an arisen on the left – drawn with a scar across the chest – and a star or some sort of light upon the top.
Darien stared at the picture. A dragon takes a person's heart, she thought, then that person becomes Arisen, then the Arisen what? Beneath that were smaller illustrations. One was of an Arisen with arms raised to treasure raining down upon them by the dragon's massive claw. She didn't know what to make of that, and was too serious to humor the thought of benefiting financially from the beast. Pray, fell beast, give me treasure beyond my dreams and I will let you live! Unlikely, she thought. Then there were pictures with dragons crushing Arisen, Arisen falling into darkness…
Darien jumped when the Fool began speaking.
"In truth, the Arisen is not bound to join the dragon in combat, should they not will it," he said, "While the dragon lives, so lives each stolen heart…The Arisen has time unending to decide how to spend time unending."
Darien had no idea when or how he had come into the room. She was faced toward the "doorway" the entire time. The pawn was a shadow, even more so than the others she had come to know.
"Where did you-" she paused and said, "Can you elaborate on these?" She lifted the scrolls.
The Fool didn't even glance at parchment, but stared at Darien. "In the fullness of time, I shall come to know when the time has come. Know that all I know is that I shall know all who know me."
"Beg pardon?"
"I am but a shadow, though my shadow be not shadow, but myself. I am come here at the end of my journeys, rich in scars and rich in mind. I am dragon-forged, knower of the beast and known to it in kind."
"Do you care to explain aught of what you are rich in mind of?"
"Him who knows that I know what he seeks to know, knows it well while he who knows not, knows not what I know or know not."
"Please leave," Darien said.
She watched the pawn move toward the exit, deciding she would do everything in her power to keep Zillah from becoming a mere shadow of what Darien was. She frowned to herself, wondering where in the world such a maternal thought came from.
Zillah came into the room, standing to the side to allow the Fool to pass.
"As a fellow pawn," Darien asked, "do you understand that one?'
"Not in the slightest," she replied. "Ruby attempted to get answers, with little luck, I'm afraid."
Darien smiled, returning her eyes to the parchment before her. Zillah came before her and placed a scroll next to her leg.
"What's this?"
"Hawke found this scroll about dragons – wyverns, specifically."
"Are there different sort?"
Zillah nodded.
Darien recalled her encounter with the only dragon she had come across. Her attempt at subduing the beast must have been a fit of madness. She knew she would never forget the massive size and the heat from the beast's maw. Oh Maker, she thought, I'm no better than Valmiro."
"I believe that there is only one dragon that is directly tied to your fate. The one that took from you your heart."
"Well," Darien said, shrugging, "that's good."
"I have combed through much of the Dragonforged's readings."
"Oh?"
"Would you like to know of your destiny?"
Darien looked at the pawn's face.
"I am afraid," Zillah said, "I do not know what it is."
"Why did you ask me then?"
Zillah replied, seemingly unaware to Darien's irritation. "Arisen are free to do as they will. You could even return to Cassardis and live out your life there if you wished."
Darien sat back, arms stretched behind her holding her up. "Do you want me to go back to Cassardis?"
Zillah sat next to the Arisen, folding her legs beneath her. Her hands rested on her lap. "I will follow you in whatever choice you make."
"I see," Darien took a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling dust and must. She stood and brushed the dirt from her trousers and the lower edges of bronze cuirass. "I'm finished here."
Zillah went to her feet. "Ser Maximillian awaits word of what we've learned."
"'Tis a shame we don't have much to report."
Darien wrapped the cloak tighter around her against the cold nip of the night. She lay on her left side, feet warmed by the bonfire the pawns studiously attended. Darien was sure they would keep the fire going throughout the night if she asked it of them. She never did. Once she fell asleep, it wasn't so bad. She was a heavy sleeper, one used to rising only when the abbey's bells upon the Cassardis hill rang ceremoniously in the morning. Now a days, her main pawn was her alarm. One thing was for sure; she disliked the thought of staying in the Dragonforged's lair for the night.
Her armor lay close to her, not that it would do much good if they were suddenly attacked during the night. But she couldn't possibly sleep with the bronze scales and leather against her skin. It wasn't as if she regularly wore armor in Cassardis. She could reach for her sword and shield if anything happened, however, and she fully believed that the pawns would alert her should anything happen.
Zillah sat beside Darien, cross-legged, closely examining an arrow from tip to the fletching in the dim firelight. Damn, Darien thought, the pawn had good eyesight. She smiled, something she tended to do lately when observing the strider. There was something fascinating with watching the pawns work. What thoughts went through their head, she wondered. They didn't need sleep, apparently. Do the pawns get bored waiting for her to wake up?
Darien wasn't blind to how fortunate she was, considering the circumstance. Sure, the dragon had taken her heart, but now she had a company of warriors at her disposal. The thought relieved her as much as it made her anxious.
Zillah seemed satisfied with the arrow she held and slid it gently into her quiver. She picked up another, and peered down its length.
An insane idea came to Darien's mind. Zillah? she thought, in the clearest in-head voice she could muster. Can you hear me? She tried again, louder – if that was possible to do in one's mind. Zillah. Hello, Zillah.
The pawn looked down at Darien.
Maker's breath! Darien sat up, still wrapped in the cloak like a cocoon. "Did you just hear that?"
Zillah leaned back slightly. "Hear what, Master?"
Before the strider could go into alert-mode, Darien said, "Oh, nothing – nothing. I just lost my damned mind for a moment." She tried motioning with her hands, only to find that they were tangled within the cloak. "I'm fine."
She threw herself onto the ground, back against the earth before she turned to her side, faced away from Zillah. Darien heard the long silence of what was likely a confused pawn staring at her master's back. After a while, she heard the snap of a twig and the sounds of it cackling in the fire. Darien relaxed and closed her eyes, urging for sleep to come soon. She smiled one last time, laughing quietly to herself.
Yep. I'm just going to leave these chapters here and slink away like the garbage I am. Maybe I'll post the next few chapters up before half a year passes. Who knows!?