About a day later the group was still traveling along the same road watching the trees roll by. The fresh spring air was filled with the songs of many birds. Even a few hawks darted across the sky but the friends didn’t seem to notice.
“Let me get this straight,” Ciaran stated, staring at Thomas,” You think that fairies, little sprites made of magic and dreams, are real.”
“Yeah,” Thomas nodded,” Obviously.”
“And since they exist, they must have some way of communicating with humans which you believe is the ability to grow larger,” Ciaran continued starting to look incredulous.
“Well yeah how else would they do diplomacy and the like,” Thomas calmly explained.
“So, you plan to use this size changing magic for what again?”
“I will shrink down hide in your backpack and if we’re ever attacked, I’ll pop out and stab them,” Thomas declared stabbing his spear in the air.
“Any problems with your plan aside, how do you plan on convincing them to give you, their secrets?” Alfar interjected from the driver’s seat.
“Well clearly they, like all people, would be unable to resist my charm,” Thomas said through a thick smirk.
“Wouldn’t you think that faeries would want other faeries?” Alfar responded.
“I don’t get what you mean?” Thomas replied starring into the distance.
“You weren’t attracted to the clochdreki back in fall, right?” Ciaran goaded.
“Nah, a bit too many scales for my taste,” Thomas said shaking his head.
“You’re all ridiculous,” Lachlann stated while attempting to read a book at the front of the wagon.
“You’ve seen and slain a dragon, a once if a lifetime beast,” Thomas began, ”but you can’t believe that a fairy would find me attractive.”
Ciaran gently patted Thomas on the should as he mustered up an over exaggerated amount of tenderness in his voices to say, “We just want you to have a realistic view of yourself.”
“Didn’t you say we would be arriving at a town soon?” Thomas questioned Lachlann hoping to immediately change the subject.
“If you think you can read the directions better than the literate feel free to try,” Lachlann challenged holding up a folded piece of worn paper.
“Hey, I’m mildly literate,” Thomas responded making no moves to grab the paper.
“What do you mean by mildly?” Ciaran asked.
“Well, I know that a big carved sign with a beer on it means tavern and that’s all I really care to know,” Thomas clarified as he pulled a small wineskin from his pocket and taking a heavy sip.
“Both of you be quiet,” Alfar commanded,” We’re approaching town and I’d rather they not think we’re simpletons.” In response to this the other three all shifted to look forward. Surrounded by a small wooden palisade, the town of Lesterburg looked almost identical to Elderbrook only several times larger. As they passed the simple gate Thomas quickly pointed out a tavern called the lazy boar inn. They had already agreed to eat lunch in the town so Alfar hitched the wagon out front and they went in. The inside of the tavern was nothing special just a bar and 5 wooden tables surrounded by stools. There were only a few other patrons, 2 sitting at the bar, and a group of 3 individuals who were dressed in steel armor painted white somewhat hidden under cloaks. Alfar picked a table as far from the other customers as possible.
“What do you think is the deal with the soldiers?” Alfar whispered leaning in to the center of the table.
“Not soldier, knights,” Thomas corrected.
“If you look closely, you can see the gold borders of their white armor,” Ciaran pointed out.
“Why would the order of the golden dawn come out here?” Lachlann asked his curiosity beginning to peak.
“I heard that there’s a war to south between the sultanate and some blasphemers,” Thomas answered smiling at the opportunity to look informed. They stopped talking as the barmaid approached.
“What can I get for you?” She asked with a forced smile.
“Just give us 4 bowls of stew and mugs of ale,” Alfar replied back with a forced smile of his own.
“Ah yes, the only two things on the menu,” The waitress muttered as she walked away.
After a brief pause Lachlann asked, “Is it time to talk about where we’re going yet?”
“I thought we were all fine with the plan to flip a coin at every fork,” Ciaran half joked.
“Just pick a direction and we’ll end up somewhere,” Thomas yawned.
“That’s ridiculous, if we don’t know where we’re going how will we know when we get there,” Lachlann half shouted.
“Calm down, let’s just go east and we’ll eventually find the clochdreki,” Alfar interjected trying to quell a coming argument. The others nodded their agreement.
Greer zealously studied the map in an attempt to forget where she currently was, in some filthy tavern in a backwater town. She had joined the golden order in part for glory and in part to escape her home but at this rate there would be no glory and she would rather be home.
“Are you sure it’s the right time, ser Greer?” Her large bearded companion, Gavin, questioned.
“Yes, ser Gavin,” She began frustrated at the topic being brought up again,” The prophecy mentions trouble in the sands and waves of the forsaken. The civil war is the troubles and you know as well as I do that the póril surge at the border every 20 years and the last surge was almost 20 years ago.”
“Ser Greer, the last dragon was killed nigh on 3 centuries ago,” her other companion, Hilda a slim girl only a few years younger than herself, mentioned.
“Ser Hilda, we’ve discussed this the local government claims that a representative of the town of Elderbrook was selling dragon scales,” Greer explained her tone growing weary.
“Ser Greer, that means nothing they probably just found the corpse frozen in a mountain,” Gavin pointed out.
“Ser Gavin is right ser Greer,” Hilda agreed,” how would a tiny village even kill a dragon?”
“They could if they had the 4 heroes meant to unite the races and renew Malagon’s seal,” Greer snipped before quickly adding,” sers.”
“Who even believes in that prophecy, ser Greer? The sun lord has protected us for 5000 years and both his protection and my faith have not waned.” Gavin grumbled pounding his fist against the table.
“The prophecy was a message from the gods to guide us. The seer who wrote it down has a history of being accurate and even if it is wrong it’s better to be fortified than forgetful ser Gavin,” Greer advised.
“If you ask me, ser Greer, this whole prophecy is Malagon’s plan. Who ever heard of country bumpkins being stronger than knights?” Gavin said with a tone bordering on aggression. Before Greer could respond a young man with a large leather bag approached their table.
“Ser Greer?” The boy asked.
“I am she,” Greer responded. The boy took out a piece of parchment folded and sealed with the stamp of a golden sun. Greer took it and handed the boy a copper coin before opening it.
“What is the news, ser Greer?” Gavin asked after a moment of silence.
“Ser Gavin, the lord general has ordered us to aid in the civil war and give up on what he calls ‘a foolish prophecy from a dying oracle’. We are to immediately make for the camp of ser Edwin and follow his lead.” Greer explained as she felt her heart drop a bit.
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