Chapter 2 (Part IV): Hell Hath No Fury

There’s been a fair bit of disagreement over the use of the term “Draconic Triad,” and I agree, that it’s inappropriate to continue using the term in a diagnostic sense. It unfairly stigmatizes dragons with a stereotype of narcissistic, manipulative, psychopathy. It’s also not entirely accurate even as it pertains to the individual who defined the original case study; most clinicians now would agree that Syliva’s behavior suggests some degree of obsessiveness that goes beyond simple narcissism. That said, when discussing the history of the behavioral sciences, we cannot disavow the context that shaped our ideas about sociopathy and pathological chrematism. At the time, Syliva was the gold standard for what personality scholars of her time called “evil”.

-        Eastern Caelia University Associate Magister Alessia Cera speaking at a symposium on the past, present, and future of nonhuman behavioral research.

The fact that bribing the heralds and the distributors was going to be a time-consuming, complicated, and risky endeavor made their prospects look grim. Unfortunately, it’s a sad fact of life that when things look grim, they could always get grimmer. And sometimes life just kicks you straight between the eyes.

Azraea and Kaira emerged from the agency to see four of the cityguard waiting for them outside in the market street. It was a startling sight to be certain, but within a half a breath it was entirely eclipsed by the appearance of a shadow that blocked out the moon and stars above them. The lamps and candle-lit windows in the market cast an orange light on jet black scales – without them, the dragon would have been nearly invisible in the darkness.

A sulfurous stench permeated the air as the dragon leaned down from the roof top of the building across the street and opened her mouth, “I thought I smelled Gnoman gold.” The words were spoken as something between a whisper and a hiss, but thanks to the sheer size of the speaker, it was frighteningly loud. It reminded Kaira of a trip she’d made to a cavern as a child – the scale of the thing had amplified even the slightest sound, like the dripping of water, to the point of being disorienting.

One of the guards yanked the oilskin from Kaira’s hands and tossed it onto the ground, spilling the gold coins onto the cobblestone pavement. Those people in the market that hadn’t left when the dragon showed up now stood transfixed, as if entranced by the shining metal. The dragon leaned down and flicked her tongue across the gold.

“Mm, delicious. I really should visit the Gnoman lands …” She licked up some of the coins and rolled them around in her mouth, enjoying the feel of the dense, cold metal before spitting them back out onto the stone, covered in foul slime, “Bring it all,” she said to the guards.

“You have no right!” Kaira said in objection, “We earned that!” The number of spectators was now growing, and people were murmuring to each other, trying to puzzle out what was going on.

“Oh, you earned it did you?” The dragon turned back and leaned down close to them, “And what sort of honest work were you doing that you were paid so much foreign gold?” she said it loudly and clearly, to make sure everyone in the street could hear her.

“We contracted to kill the Scolopendrae of the Dark Dweller’s Forest,” Kaira answered without hesitation, drawing the badly wrinkled and slightly dirty contract from her pouch. The people around them nodded and there was a rise in mumbled agreements.

“Oh my, my, my,” The dragon flicked her tongue at the paper as she studied it, “This contract was issued by the university,” she swung her head about to address the gathering crowd, “Which is interesting, since they aren’t exactly disbursing any payments now,” the dragon chuckled, its laugh accompanied by a subtle growl that sounded like the echo that follows a thunderclap. “But then, even if it were, the university wouldn’t have been paying in Gnoman gold, would it…?”

The guards put their hands on their weapons and started to fan out. Kaira likewise tensed for combat, but didn’t draw her knives. She briefly wondered if the universe was somehow against her primary choice of weapon; it seemed half the places she got into serious fights were places she couldn’t bring her spear.

“I’ve smelled you all before,” Syliva said, her voice trailing into a rattle like a sizzling pan of frying meat, “At a little farm I had to foreclose out in the countryside.”

“Foreclosed?” Azraea said, “It was burned to the ground.” Tears welled in her eyes, partly from grief over the lives lost, but mostly from rage that was building within her. Her face was tightened, so hot with anger that it felt like she was going to literally burst.

“Oh, oh yes, that’s right, it was arson,” Syliva said to the onlookers, “Insurance fraud or something. I forgot. Not really a memorable place. And now, here you are walking out of a Gnoman business, packing foreign gold after a day of skulking about the streets asking all sorts of interesting questions about the honest men and women who keep us informed of such things. My, my, such questionable activity you get involved in. Hm, hm…” The dragon looked around at the crowd, “Are they seditionists perhaps? Or maybe spies? Or perhaps just common criminals? Well, it’s the dungeons for them, either way. We can settle on the details of your demise later.”

“On whose authority?” Azraea asked.

“Why, mine.” The dragon said with a smile, “My money, my men; my rules.”

“But not your rule,” Kaira said, “We still have the right to a fair trial.” Again, murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

Syliva laughed, “You are naïve, elf. You have no rights at all. You are my property, just as your king is.” Now the mood of the crowd shifted from curious to unsettled. The dragon had crossed a line. Some things were not said, even if they were obvious.

“I apologize for my travelling partner’s confusion,” Azraea said, her rage and grief now firmly bottled, “As you say, she is naïve. She doesn’t understand how the world works, and tends to just take things at face value,” she said diplomatically. She looked around at the crowd, “Since our childhood, we’ve all been fed this idea of a world where nations are ruled by heroes and champions that stand before their people and revel in the adoration of the masses.” The people around them nodded, and muttered agreements. One bold fellow shouted, “Remember Caelus the Fourth!” drawing some cheers and whistles that seemed to irritate the dragon.

Azraea looked Syliva in the eye - her very large, yellow eye - “Fairy tales, of course. Only a fool would expose himself like that. It’s far wiser to rule from behind the throne rather than upon it. Far safer. Safe from ridicule, from criticism, and most of all, from harm. Really, anyone with an ounce of sense would be frightened by the burden of the crown.”

“Frightened?” the dragon quirked a horned brow.

“Afraid. Any sensible woman – human or dragon – would fear for her safety. Both her reputation and her life would be in constant peril, of course.”

Syliva hissed, “Nothing threatens me,” she said loudly, for the benefit of the gathered crowd.

“Of course, of course,” Azraea agreed, “But why take the risk for such trivial gain? Why would you want to put your own life in danger just so people think you’re the one with the power?”

“People know I’m the one with the power. I have the money.”

“Really? Whose face is on it?”

Syliva bristled, “What?”

“Well,” Azraea said, “Every time a person buys a loaf of bread or a jug of milk, it’s not your face that abates their hunger, is it? It’s the king, or one of the kings before him,” she gestured to the coins on the ground, “or even the Gnoman Empress, it seems.” People mumbled in agreement as Azraea continued more loudly, “It’s ironic, really, that you have so much of the kingdom’s wealth, but in the end, none of it bears your mark. It must feel like none of it is really yours at all.” A shock of nervous laughter ran through the crowd.

“It is mine,” the dragon said, “ALL MINE,” she shouted to the crowd.

“But that’s not what the coins say,” Azraea continued calmly, “They are the kingdom’s currency. You possess a very large share, of course, but they really only have value in so far as they can be used to purchase things, so, if you think about it, any money you aren’t using is really… meaningless, even if it’s gold. Other kingdoms have used seashells for money, you know. Collecting those might be better for you. You wouldn’t have all of those little dead kings staring at you all the time, reminding you who the money really belongs to.”

“I have the gold; the gold belongs to me,” the dragon snarled.

Azraea cautiously bent and picked up two of the coins, and held them up so the dragon could see the face of the Gnoman Empress imprinted upon them, “Does it really?” She asked simply, “I don’t see your name on it…”

Syliva roared in frustration and the crowd burst into laughter. Azraea had delivered the punchline completely deadpan, but in this moment, in front of all of these people, it was Syliva’s own petulant response that would make the dragon the butt of a joke that would be retold for days. She raised a claw to smite Azraea down, but Azraea just smiled back at her.

“I’m sorry,” Azraea said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t realize this was such a sensitive topic for you.” More laughter ran through the gathered crowd.

The dragon was vexed. To strike the woman down now, in front of all of these people, would look like an act of fearful anger, but a threat might just be a good reminder of where the real power was, “Gold is power, but it is not the only power. I could kill you where you stand.” The crowd went deathly silent.

“So could he,” Azraea gestured to one of the armed guards who now looked uncomfortable with being singled out, “Being able to kill someone isn’t all that impressive, really. Murder is relatively easy.”

“There’s a difference between murder and execution,” Syliva’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled back to show her yellowed teeth. 

“You are right about that,” Azraea said, “When a king kills someone, it’s called an execution,” she tossed one of the gold coins she was holding on the ground with a clatter, as if it were worth nothing to her, “But when a servant of the kingdom like me, or you, takes a life,” she tossed the other coin, “That’s taken very differently. Right now, if you were to kill me for, what? Having a conversation with you? Well, that would definitely be murder,” people weren’t cheering, but their agreement was definitely audible, “Murder with dozens of witnesses. Having a crown does make quite a difference, doesn’t it?”

The dragon growled a deep guttural sound that started just above her chest and ran up her long neck.

“I’m sure this has been a taxing day for you,” Azraea said, now openly patronizing, “Why don’t we all go to the king so he can just resolve this now?” Azraea didn’t know if the dragon would be more sensitive about her species or her gender, but she smiled and decided to double down, “Sometimes it’s best to let a man decide these sorts of things, don’t you think?”

The dragon simply roared, apparently completely overtaken by her temper, as the crowd laughed. She launched into the air, scattering the crowd, sending people running in fear, but instead of lighting fire to the street, she flew back towards her castle, obviously hell-bent on doing... something. 

The guards moved in to detain Azraea and Kaira, but the crowd rushed in and swamped them, scrambling to reach the gold coins spilled in the street. Unable to go left or right, Azraea and Kaira ran back into Vidi’s office building. The hearth now roared with fire, fed by a number of now unidentifiable documents. Vidi was in the back, waving for them to follow.

“I guess I got a bit too free with the coin and drew the wrong sort of attention to myself,” he apologized as he hefted a locked strongbox and passed it to Kaira, “Time to close up shop.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then pulled a key from his pocket, “No point in separating them,” he said pragmatically and stuffed the key in one of the woman’s pockets. He picked up two more bags of coin, handed one to Azraea, and hoisted a bag of remaining documents and supplies over his shoulder.

A loud pounding started at the front door, and one of the windows shattered. They couldn’t tell if it was the guards pursuing them or the now rioting crowd searching for the source of the gold coins.

“There is a back door, right?” Kaira asked.

Vidi dragged aside the cot he slept on and removed a panel to reveal a small opening, “If you can crawl.” He scurried under it effortlessly like a mouse darting through a hole. Kaira slid the strongbox after him, sent Azraea through, and then slid through the opening as the door crashed down. The sound of stamping feet rushed towards the opening, but Azraea ignited a green ball of fire and threw it into the opening like a bowling ball, lighting up the wood and cloth inside. They could see armored boots trying to stamp out the fire but as they ran down the alley the building was quickly overtaken by flames.

They followed Vidi to a small shack near the outer wall. It was in a low end of town, where the sewers did not work especially well. Azraea didn’t say anything, but she was a tad disappointed at what the past several days had done to her new dress.

“This is my safehouse,” Vidi said, “All paid for off the books. Even if they come looking for us, no one’ll find us here without plowing through a whole lot of other people’s illegal activities first.” Kaira set the strongbox down next to the shack’s small cot with a thud, and handed the key to Vidi.

Azraea put on the enchanted ring that Vinny had given her and whistled the tune Ochsner had told them would connect to the Gnoman's leader. There was a crackling sound, a musical chime, and then Vinny answered through the ring.

“Hi, Vinny, some interesting developments here,” Azraea said, “Vidi’s office burned down, and the dragon may be mounting a coup’de’tat.”

She expected some mortified shouting, but Vinny didn’t even ask why things had gone to hell or whose fault it was. He simply asked, “What assets survived?”

Azraea guessed that when Vinny used the term ‘assets’ he didn’t just mean materials, “Vidi’s okay,” she said, “And so are Kaira and I. We pulled out a fair bit of coin, too, and whatever Vidi’s got in his bag.”

“My exit strategy,” the Gnoman said, patting the bag, “papers and supplies to get me on a boat headed south.”

“I’ll be there in a day or so to take over operations in the city,” Vinny said, “Vidi, I’d like you to head out east where the rest of the team is. You’re good to leave, but I don’t want you headed south right now.”

“Sir,” Vidi said, “Respectfully, why? My cover’s blown.”

“Not entirely,” Vinny said, “But if you get caught heading south with forged papers right now we’ll have a real mess on our hands.”

“Lots of guards on that highway,” Vidi said.

“Kaira will go with you,” Azraea said, “If you go now, you’ll have a head start, and Kaira will give you all the protection you need.”

Kaira looked at her in shock, “And what about the protection you need?”

“I’ll have it when everyone sees a tall elf woman and her small travelling companion ride out of this town like there’s a dragon chasing them.”

“Yeah…” Vidi caught on, “in the dark, with a cloak, and on horseback people might mistake me for her.”

Kaira was clearly unconvinced.

“I have things to see to here,” Azraea said, “The best way you can protect me is to draw attention away from me.”

“She’s right,” Vidi said, anxious to get out of town.

“Kaira will catch up with you in a moment,” Azraea said, ushering the Gnoman out the door.

“I don’t like this plan,” Kaira said, “I never liked the idea of leaving you alone, and now the city’s headed towards madness.”

“I know,” Azraea said, “But it’s the best plan, and I know I’ll be fine.”

“But I don’t,” Kaira said.

“Well, that works out just fine, then,” Azraea said, “Because if you really think you’re never going to see me again, you can’t get mad about this.” Azraea grabbed the leather strap that held the pauldron on Kaira’s left shoulder and yanked her down. She pulled her forward and locked their lips together. Kaira struggled from reflex alone; when she actually realized what had just happened she immediately relaxed. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed for a good long while before Azraea finally released her with a seductive smile.

“I’m still straight,” Kaira's ordinarily marble-white cheeks were bright red.

“Well, thank you for granting a dying woman’s last wish then,” Azraea said. She hugged her tight, “I love you. Stay safe out there.”

Kaira tightened her arms around the small woman, “I love you too. Try not to do too much more damage to the kingdom while I’m gone.”