The feasting ground was, as Enri had noted earlier, packed. The inhabitants of Draco were already gathered around the many fires, watching huge slabs of meat roasting with glee in their eyes. There were a few groups gathered outside of the range of the fires, and they seemed to be enjoying each other's company, discussing subjects of mutual interest.
“You may join my group while we wait for food if you wish,” Vadova said in his soft hiss.
Enri and Markus followed him to a small group just a few feet away from the direct center of the grounds, where a small collection of people were already seated and looked up as the three approached. As was only to be expected, most of them were draconic in nature. The motley assembly ranged from an old bearded man with sharp fangs like Vadova, deep red scales, and even a scaly tail, to a young monk who looked almost completely human, save for bright green eyes with slit pupils.
It wasn't until they had been welcomed and sat down with the group that Enri noticed an outlier. Sitting just to his right was a woman who had absolutely no draconic features, and appeared to be an ordinary elf. Even Markus cast her a curious glance as they sat down, but made no comment or question as Vadova introduced them to the group.
“Everyone, this is Enri and Markus Ciayol. They have journeyed from Milagre, and are resting for a meal with us before they climb the great mountain.”
There was a brief murmur of welcome and interest from the group. The young monk with yellow dragon eyes leaned forward, putting his palms together and bowing from his sitting position.
“Welcome to our fire, Enri, and Markus. We hope you enjoy the bounty we share with you.” There was a ring to it that sounded almost traditional, even ritualistic.
Enri and Markus responded with a bow of their own, but Markus surprised Enri by responded, “Thank you for sharing your bounty, friends. We are honored to rest by your fire.”
Enri glanced sideways at his taller companion in confusion. Markus saw the look and shrugged slightly, then leaned closed to him and whispered.
“It's how you greet guests at your fire. It's a tradition amongst all the draconic clans.”
Enri nodded slightly, filing the information away for future reference. Wishing not to seem too ignorant to these strangers, he bowed again and echoed his thanks. The young monk smiled wide, revealing perfectly ordinary human teeth, and waved a hand dismissively.
“One reply is enough, friend. We do not begrudge you for not knowing our customs. We accept that there are different cultures in the world, and therefore it is not possible to know how to greet all.”
Enri smiled graciously, warming to the monk quicker than he'd expected. “Thank you. I must admit, I am a little out of my depth here. I've never set foot outside of Milagre, let alone journeyed to a city known to have no human residents.”
The monk laughed, but not in scorn. The sound was jolly and infectious, drawing a grin from the others. “Then you can rejoice, as tonight will be an experience for you to learn on! I am Ehran Stoneclaw, and these are my comrades, Trian Ironskin and Valex the Bright.”
He gestured to the wizened older man that Enri had first noted, and to the woman on his right, the one who lacked any draconic features. He nodded in recognition of the old warrior, then turned to the young woman. She was flushing slightly, clearly disliking the full use of her title. The reaction showed Enri that she did not stand by the use of accolades or honors. This, thought Enri, is someone I understand.
“Comrades, you said?” Enri asked with polite interest. “Which faction are you in?”
Ehran and Trian shared a brief look between them, and the older man gesture for Ehran to answer. “We’re Skyfiends. We ride dragons and go after high-priority targets.”
The name rang a faint bell in Enri’s memory. He’d briefly heard rumors about a small new elite battalion of dragon riders, who reported directly to the queen. Some tales of their exploits had filtered through the ranks of the army, and eventually to the Maravino. Enri wasn’t sure if all the stories he’d heard were true or not, but he’d heard of their prowess enough to regard the three of them in a new light.
“I’ve heard of you guys,” Markus chimed in. “Didn’t you capture that rebel bandit lord who was building an army and attacking the smaller towns and villages?”
On Enri’s other side, Valex threw her head back and laughed, her teeth glinting in the firelight. “Oh, that was a fun mission. Don’t believe what you heard of that story, Markus. Ehran likes to think he fought well on that mission, but that’s not what happened!”
Ehran’s face started to turn red. “Valex, don’t-”
Valex continued on, talking over him. “We were all set to swoop down and take the bandits out when Shera tripped on landing and accidentally squashed the leader! Very graceful.”
She laughed hard again, the sound echoed all around the fire. Even Markus chuckled quietly at the thought.
“Shera?” Enri asked, confused.
“My dragon companion,” Ehran muttered, his face now a bright scarlet in embarrassment. The others laughed all the harder as they caught sight of his face, and continued on for several seconds before Ehran jumped to his feet. He jumped to his feet with a growl of anger, glaring across at Valex. Curiously, an even deeper and more menacing growl sounded out of the darkness behind him, and a silver dragon paced into the ring of light thrown by the fire, its back arched and its eyes narrowed at Valex. A little bigger than the average battle horse, it had bright silver scales, a thin frame as though built for speed, and pale blue eyes.
Valex showed no sign of panic or fear at Shera’s growl but offered the dragon a wide, innocent smile that fooled nobody. The others around the fire and even a few from outside their circle looked on in interest as Shera continued to growl, slowly inching closer to the elf. Valex still showed no sign of backing down, but her hand was inching closer to a medium-sized pouch on her belt.
Suddenly, a low growl cut across Shera’s. Enri looked around in surprise, looking for the appearance of a new dragon, but saw none. Then he saw both Shera and Valex looking at Trian with slightly sheepish expressions. Shera stopped her own growling at once and paced out of the firelight.
Enri let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and heard a similar sound from Markus on his left. Both of them hadn’t been sure how to react to the situation, and both were obviously glad that it had been resolved. They hadn’t really been expecting a fight to break out, as the three Skyfiends seemed to be good friends. It had merely looked as though their banter was about to turn to horseplay, but even horseplay involving a dragon would be dangerous.
A few more minutes of silence passed them by, in which Ehran and Valex kept flashing irritated looks at each other. Finally, the impasse was broken as a deep horn sounded across the feasting grounds. Thinking of some kind of attack or emergency, Enri’s hand moved unconsciously towards the estoc on his belt, but Valex put a hand on his forearm to calm him. Looking towards her, he saw that she was wearing an eager, and slightly amused grin.
“Don't worry. That’s just the signal that the food is ready.” She said with a smirk.
Enri glanced over his shoulder towards the nearest fire, and sure enough, people were leaving it laden with giant platters full of food. The smell of roast meat was more evident now, he realized, as one such plater was brought to their fire, carried by four scale skinned dragon-kin. As they drew closer, Enri, Markus, and Valex hurriedly stood to clear a path for them. The bearers set the loaded platter, nearly four feet long by three feet wide, in a large empty spot next to their fire.
Enri noted that the others were pulling several silver coins from their pouches and piling them together. He fumbled into his pouch to pay as well, but Vadova stopped him with a quick word.
There is no need, friend Enri. You are our guest, and as such, this bounty is our treat to you.” He said with a gracious nod of his head, gesturing to a small stack of plates on the platter’s edge, indicating that he should help himself.
Enri was on the point of protesting, looking at all the roasted meat and imagining how much it must have cost to make, but Markus forestalled him.
Leaning forward, he whispered in a low hiss into Enri’s ear.
“Don’t offer gold. It will only offend them. They’ve offered food, and they expect no payment in return. Just accept it.”
Enri hesitated for a moment longer, then accepted the words. Turning slightly to hide the movement of his lips from the others, he whispered back.
“What about the coffee? Will they be offended if I offer that?”
Markus shook his head at once. “No. I expect they’ll welcome that.”
And so saying, Enri pulled the woven sack of grounds from his pack, accompanied by the tinpot he used to brew it. At the sight of them, the mood around the campfire brightened further.
“Coffee?” Ehran exclaimed in delight. “That’s rare around here. Looks like we were right to welcome you to the fire!”
The others made noises of agreement and shifted in closer to the fire. A full waterskin was passed to Enri, who quickly measured several scoops of the dark ground beans into the pot, filled it with water, and set it in the coals of the fire to boil. It wasn’t the largest pot, but Enri felt sure that it could make enough for everyone to have a cup.
A plate was passed to Enri and Markus, piled high with succulent looking cuts of roasted meat. A few golden-brown loaves were torn into chunks and passed around as well. Before long, they were eating the food with sounds of delight, enjoying the simple good food in an atmosphere of camaraderie. Halfway through the meal, the coffee reached a boil, and soon they were each holding a cup of the rich dark Adarban brew.
Occasionally, they heard snatches of voices from the other fires around him, raised in argument, laughter, and occasionally song. An air of excitement and energy lay over the feasting grounds, with everyone eating their fill of meat. Every once in a while, someone would approach their fire, speaking with the others there, and to give a word of welcome to Enri and Markus.
It was a good night of pleasant company, relaxation, and eating to excess. Enri and Markus were able to let their guard down, a rare treat after their trip from Milagre. They eagerly answered the others' questions about their trek to Draco and exclaimed in surprise and wonder when they told them of Enri's participation in the Trials.
“The Trials, eh?” Valex said ponderously. “Well, that sounds exciting. Those don't happen every year, do they?”
“It is a rare and momentous opportunity,” Trian spoke up, one of the few times he'd spoken that night. “You will face many tests before you reach your goal.”
Enri had nodded in acknowledgment of these words, trying his best not to let the lingering sense of panic and impotence he felt show. If his trepidation was visible, the others made no comment on it, but moved on to other subjects of conversation. As was only inevitable with a gathering of strangers, the talk soon turned to news from around the country, and even a few tidbits of the world outside of Tyrman.
“Have you all heard the rumors about Attos?” Ehran leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on his face.
Enri looked up from his nearly empty coffee mug. “Attos? The military country?”
Ehran nodded vigorously. “Well, the king, actually. Rumor has it, he's planning for a war.”
Markus let out a low whistle of surprise. It was known that Attos, sometimes known as The Conqueror King, ruled over a strong nation of warriors. Unlike the rest of the world's nations, residency in Attos was only granted to soldiers who were actively deployed under his command. So far the country had been peaceful, merely maintaining a strong military force to discourage attacks or invasions.
“What makes people think that he's planning a war?” Enri asked in a hushed voice. Like the others, he'd grown up hearing tales of The Conqueror King, about his bloody rise to power, and the iron fist with which he ruled his country of warriors.
Ehran hesitated then, a little less sure of his ground, then shrugged. “Well, apparently they've been paying merchants to make extra weapons and armor for them.”
“There's more,” Vadova interjected. “Apparently, Attos has been buying large amounts of supplies and rations from other countries as well. That's odd, seeing as how they've always had enough food to feed their armies before, and there have been no reports of rot or drought.”
Enri sat back from the conversation for a few minutes, thinking this over. He supposed that, deep down, he wasn't too surprised by this sudden move from Attos. After all, he had such a large army of well-trained men under his command, so it was only natural that he'd want to put them to use. But this news didn't bode well for the other countries, he thought. Certainly, Tyrman was safe. They were nearly on the other side of the world from Attos after all, and they were nearly equal in terms of power.
But if Attos had his sights set on any of the other countries nearer to him, it could cause a lot of trouble. The two closest countries were Zaban, the natural haven filled with druids and sages, and the Welsik Isles, home to hundreds, possibly thousands, of legendary blacksmiths. Both Zaban and Welsik had their own strengths and could provide some resistance, but the longer Enri thought about the situation, the more uneasy he became.
Zaban may be a peaceful nation dedicated to nothing more than healing and worship of the God of Nature, but there were many problems to be expected if it were taken over by Attos. First and foremost, the nation was rumored to be holding many powerful magical and natural artifacts, not to mention the countless secrets they might hold after centuries of research into natural magicks.
Attos' potential reason for attacking Welsik was obvious, he supposed. The metal that the blacksmiths worked and sold was pulled from their own land. It was rumored that there were hundreds of rich mines, filled to the brim with high-quality iron ore. Taking over Welsik would guarantee Attos a large supply of rich metal, and even if he took prisoners, skilled crafters who could equip his army anew.
The others seemed to be thinking along similar lines. By the time Enri brought his attention back to the conversation, they were discussing ideas, trying to guess at Attos' unknown plans.
“I shudder to think how much stronger he'll become if he takes over Welsik,” Vadova said, and he did in fact shiver a little at the thought.
“Or Zaban,” Valex added. When the others looked at her in some confusion, she shrugged slightly and added. “It's rumored to be home to the Mage Tribes, after all.
Enri swore to himself. He'd completely forgotten about the Mage Tribes. Now that Valex brought them up, he wondered how the thought could have slipped his mind. The Mage Tribes were a fantastic group of mages and magical engineers who were spoken of, sometimes with the same reverence in which the Sanctuary was mentioned. It was rumored that they'd made some of the strongest and most famous magical artifacts in the world.
Vadova hummed thoughtfully for a few more seconds, then clapped his hands together briskly. “Still, I don't think he'd try for Tyrman. Our army is strong and well maintained. He'd find us a tough nut to crack.”
Trian nodded. “Yes. And there is the Maravino as well. Not a force to sneeze at.”
There was a quiet mutter of agreement from the group. Then, by some kind of silent agreement, they moved on to other topics. An unseen shadow seemed to lift from the group as the subject was changed, and the remainder of the meal was spent in more friendly conversation.
Not long after this discussion, the residents of Draco began to disperse, heading to their separate resting places, and their group too began to break up. Trian, Valex, and Ehran made their farewells as the rest stood, kicking dirt into the firepit to extinguish the last of the glowing coals.
“Good luck on your journey, young Enri and Markus,” Trian said solemnly, offering them his hand.
“Thank you for sharing your bounty with us.” Enri said, shaking his hand, including Vadova in his thanks. The dragon-kin nodded, a friendly smile returning to his face.
“It was my pleasure. When you return from the mountain, please do join us for dinner once more.”
Enri gave a slight bow, tilting his head in gratitude. “We will be honored to join you again.”
Vadova seemed pleased with the idea. “Now, unfortunately, as you know, it is not allowed for those without draconic lineage to stay within the city. I bid you good luck on your quest.”
Enri and Markus nodded their understanding. They bid goodnight to Vadova, then shouldered their packs and set out for the edge of Draco. As they walked, they noted that while some residents did go into small houses, the great majority were curling up in nests or underground dens near the edge of the city. Enri turned to Markus.
“You know, you can stay the night here if you want. I'll be fine on my own outside the walls.”
Markus didn't reply at once, but neither did he make a move to turn back. After a few seconds, he said, quietly, “I don't mind sleeping outside the walls. Besides, it's my job as a Guide to remain nearby.”
There was an air of awkwardness at the words, but Enri willfully ignored it. He made no comment on Markus' apparent change in mood towards him over the past few days, but merely nodded his acceptance of his companion's words.
“Well then. Looks like we'll get a solid eight hour's rest before going up the mountain.” He said, casting his gaze once more up at the dark mountain looming over them. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Markus nodding, pleased. He remembered from their time together as trainees that when he didn't get enough sleep, he was notoriously cranky.
“How long do you think it will take us to scale the mountain?” Markus asked.
Enri looked up at the mountain, having to crane his neck to do so. From where they stood, it looked more than a mile tall. “I'm not sure. I've never really climbed a mountain, but I know that it won't be a straight shot up. The paths that are carved into mountains wind back and forth, so the distance we actually travel will be nearly triple the height.”
Markus thought about this in silence for a while, not responding until they had come within a kilometer of the foot of the mountain. They both had agreed previously not to camp right at the beginning of the trail, preferring to avoid any of the beasts rumored to live on it from sensing them until they were truly ready to climb it.
After they had set up the camp, Markus finally spoke. “I hope whatever the monk has to tell you, it was worth the trip.”
Enri only grunted in response. He climbed under the covers of his bedroll, as Markus had agreed to take the first watch. They had built a fire but agreed not to light it until the morning when they made their breakfast. Beasts on the mountain aside, they didn't want to reveal their presence, being so close to the main road. Bandits and brigands were known to roam the roads at night, and though they didn't fear a fight, they knew it would be unwise to provoke one.
