Epilogue (Part 2 of 3)

Azraea had been debating whether to confess her more personal doubts, and now it seemed Ochsner had her cornered. Azraea sighed, “You know, you’re essentially going to be my hand and voice when and where I cannot be present.”

“Yeah, I got that part.”

 “Which means that, more often than not, you’ll be many miles away.” Azraea thought of that night in the tavern before they’d left on their grand adventure; despite her best intentions, she would end up separated from her best friend just as she’d feared.

“Which sucks,” Ochsner said, “But if it helps you do this, I can make it work. And you’ll still have Kaira to lean on when you need support.”

Azraea made a guilty face.

“Oh, there it is,” Ochsner said, “I knew there was something else eating at you. Spill!”

“Appointing her as captain of my Queensguard will garner support from both the orcs and the elves in the kingdom…”

“And ensure that the best, most resourceful fighter you know is always close by,” Ochsner said, “which is a valid concern for the queen. Yet, I sense that this very reasonable decision has somehow plunged you into something of a moral grey area.”

“Thrakaduhl was the best choice to govern the eastern end of the kingdom. It will win favor with the neo-monarchists and some of the orc clans, and like Kaira, I know he will do the job exceptionally well.”

“But,” Ochsner read between the lines, “by giving them those positions, you’ve effectively used your power as queen to separate them, and keep Kaira for yourself." Azraea gave her a look of clear surprise. Ochsner explained, "Given the look on your face when the two lovebirds walked off together after dinner, I had to wonder if there was something going on there.”

With the prospect of lengthy separation ahead, Kaira had asked for one more night free of duty, so that she and Thrakaduhl could spend it alone together. Azraea was ashamed to admit – even to herself – that the request had stung a bit. “You know I had a crush on Kaira…” Azraea said.

Ochsner laughed, “Um, yeah. I remember.”

“Well, it’s not so much a crush anymore as it is a… thing.”

“A thing?”

“I told her I loved her.”

“Well, I think she already knew that.”

“And she said she loved me too.”

“Um… what?” Ochsner’s face was a case study in utter bafflement, “When did that happen?”

“After we kissed.”

Ochsner stared at her in the mirror in shock, and then smiled, “Damn girl, you must be a hell of a kisser if you can turn a woman that straight into a lesbian.”

“It’s not like that…” Azraea said.

“I know,” Ochsner laughed, “It doesn’t work that way, but… holy crap – how did you not tell me about this?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Azraea folded her arms, “But it’s not easy to talk about.”

“Does Thrakaduhl know?”

“No… I don’t think so,” Azraea said.

“Too bad,” Ochsner said, “That’d be pretty hot...”

“What?!” Azraea said, “No, that’d be…”

“So different from that threesome you almost had with Jon and Regina.”

“It would be different…” Azraea said.

“Because when it comes to Kaira you’re feeling a little bit jealous and possessive?”

Unrequited love was not an easy burden to carry but knowing that her feelings were even somewhat reciprocated was nearly unbearable, and it was getting worse. What once had been a fantasy was now a possible future, but a frustratingly unlikely one.

“Even if Kaira were suddenly overwhelmed with lust for the same sex,” Azraea said, “which seems extraordinarily implausible, it seems nearly as unlikely that the kingdom would be receptive to the idea of having two queens.”

Ochsner smiled.

“What?” Azraea asked, “What’s funny?”

“It’s not funny,” Ochsner said, “But you’re so invested in thinking about the kingdom’s future, it makes me happy to know you haven’t completely forgotten to think about your own. A queen’s people expect a great deal of her, but they also still expect her to have a life.”

“A very public, harshly scrutinized one.”

“Yeah, but that’s not necessarily bad. You’ve got a lot of important but difficult decisions to make. Every breath people waste talking about your hair, your dress, or who you’re taking to bed, is a breath they don’t spend complaining about economic and diplomatic decisions they don’t really understand.”

Azraea considered the beautiful tiara that had been sitting on the vanity for days. It was hers and hers alone to wear, “As queen I can have nearly anything I ask for, except the thing I now want most for myself.”

“Maybe,” Ochsner said, “Or maybe Kaira and Thrakaduhl would surprise you if you actually talked to them about it. Even if it doesn’t go well, it’s better than letting it fester.”

“And what if it doesn’t go well?” Azraea said.

“Well, you can always reclaim Jericho as your personal guard.”

“You don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Ochsner said, “He’s a decent, trustworthy man...”

“And?”

“And reasonably handsome for a man his age.”

Azraea laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s not my place to say,” Azraea said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out for yourself.”

“Damn, he’s gay isn’t he?” Ochsner said, “I guess a woman shouldn’t be making advances on her bodyguards anyway.”

Azraea gave Ochsner a scathing look.

“Unless they have a pre-existing… relationship... thing… It’s different with you and Kaira. Or it hypothetically would be.”

“You know in old Arbarii the words for ‘bodyguard’ and ‘concubine’ were the same?”

“What?” Ochsner said, “I call bull.”

Azraea just smirked quietly as she studied the tiara again. She picked up the elegant piece that had been sitting on the vanity for days. It had been found in the dragon’s horde and, given its delicate craftsmanship, it was nearly a miracle that it had survived in one piece. It was inlaid with precious gems and diamonds, but was in its own way understated.

“You know this is probably worth more than everything my parents’ have ever owned, but it was such a small thing tossing among the gold and jewels…" Azraea settled the tiara onto her head, "Catherine felt that it wasn’t a crown fit for a queen, but Jericho said that, having survived for generations under the dragon’s reign, it has its own powerful symbolism.”

“I take it that resonated with you?” Ochsner asked as she adjusted Azraea’s hair around the tiara.

“So far, it’s the only thing out of the hoard that I’ve kept for myself. Though… so far, I haven’t been bold enough to wear it in public.” She looked at herself in the mirror. Not only did it cover up the scar on her scalp, she couldn’t help but feel it looked and felt right. Even she couldn’t quite understand why she’d foregone it thus far. Perhaps some part of her still remembered the dead king’s words, and was having trouble committing to her role.

“I always knew you had potential,” a man’s voice came from behind Ochsner, all the more startling because they had seen no one in the mirror but each other. Ochsner fell off her stool clumsily, startled by the voice, and Azraea jumped to her feet and turned to find a familiar face.

“Vander,” she said, her fists tightening at the sound of his name on her lips,

“Vander?!” Ochsner cried, scrambling to her feet, “You said he was dead!” Ochsner looked at Azraea's former lover, looming between them and the window, "I thought you were dead!"

“Hello Ochsner,” Vander smiled - it looked like the same smile Ochsner remembered from years ago, but it was now somehow devoid of human warmth, “Don’t worry. Azraea didn’t lie. I’ve been pretty dead.”

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.”

Chapter 2 (Part III): The Cost of Tragedy

"The exact number of people killed by the dragon during the first riot of that summer has never been certain. Medes initially insisted it was 'a big crowd, the biggest crowd anyone in [his] position had ever had to deal with,' but later, when public opinion on the matter proved sour, he claimed that there were probably no more than a few dozen protesters involved. That claim is sharply at odds with official records pertaining to the guard presence - if Medes were to be believed, his supposedly 'overwhelmed' guardsmen would have outnumbered the protesters three-to-one."
- Alfonsa Camernus, in her book, First of the Worst: When Brutish Men Lead Brutally.  

Azraea and Kaira left the outdoor cafe and headed up the street towards the burned out remains of the college.

 “How many of our friends do you think survived the fires?” Kaira asked bluntly.

“Well, by my estimate,” Azraea said, “Probably three - if we each include ourselves in the headcount.”

“I don’t mean just our little trio,” Kaira said, “Classmates and such. I mean, you had some other friends, besides us, right?”

 'Acquaintances' would have been more accurate than 'friends' in Azraea's mind. Being nice and good as she had been seemed to doom one to a locked degree of social distance - everybody considered you a friend, but no one really considered you their friend. You were just close enough to be asked for favors, but not close enough to be invited to along for a night out. But Azraea also realized that was perhaps unfair. Despite the upbeat and chipper facade she had fostered throughout her time in Kingstown, social interaction was as emotionally draining as it was rewarding. There had been times in her life when it had felt almost painful to drag herself out to interact with people. Azraea wondered how many friendships she had herself avoided or starved because of that, but didn't share the mental tangent with Kaira. 
She returned her focus to the elf woman's worries, “More than us three, I’m sure,” Azraea’s eyes glowed with a familiar faint green aura as she looked into the grey area between the living world and the other side, “I’ve seen the spirits of some familiar faces, and a few instructors I was really fond of, but of course, most of our friends had graduated, and those that hadn’t were on summer internships.”

“Well, that’s some good news, I guess…” Kaira said.

“No, it’s just news,” Azraea said. She wondered how many of these people could have been her friends, if she'd been less shut off from the surrounding world. And how many had themselves been closed off, just like her? Each of the spirits she saw in her mind's eye had been a person, complicated and full of their own dreams and fears, connected to their own friends, their own families and lovers. When Azraea thought about the value of just a single life - the work that had been invested in shaping it, the people who'd become connected to it, the potential that had laid ahead of it - the cost of this tragedy was stomach churning. Azraea gritted her teeth, “That most of the people who died happened to be strangers to us doesn’t mitigate what’s been done.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Kaira said, “I was just saying it’s a relief no one…”

“No one what?” Azraea stopped and wheeled around as the emotional turmoil inside boiled over, “No one important died? No one who mattered? Every one of those people mattered to someone.”

“I-I’m not meaning to be insensitive here,” Kaira said with unusual trepidation, “It’s not that I don’t think their lives matter, but…”

Azraea sighed and shook her head, willing away the tears that had started to well in her eyes. She took Kaira’s hand and squeezed it, “I’m sorry. I know what you meant and there’s nothing wrong about being worried about those closest to us. The problem isn’t that we callously devalue the lives of the rest, it’s that we’ve accepted that the slaughter of a hundred people in the street is just something that can happen, and we believe that if it had to happen, then we should be thankful that it didn’t happen to someone close to us.”

“Yeah,” Kaira looked down sadly, “I guess that’s about it.”

“But it didn’t have to happen,” Azraea said, hardening again, “We shouldn’t have to be grateful our friends and family haven’t been burned alive because no one should have been. That thing up there in the castle, she’s not a force of nature. She’s not a goddess. She’s just a bully. A murderer.”

“So, we kill her,” Kaira put away her grief.

“Yes,” Azraea said, “But... I think you may need to go back to Defiance.”

“What?” Kaira asked.

“Give it a day or so, of course, to help me get things in order around here. Then, head back. I won’t be alone once Vinny gets here, but I’m worried about leaving Ochsner to handle the ballpipe on her own.”

“I can’t help her fix it,” Kaira said.

“But you can help her use it,” Azraea explained, “Ochsner can defend herself from a drunken frat-boy, but she’s not exactly martially inclined. She’s good with a bow, but is that the same as firing that thing? The Gnomans might know what to do with it, but this is just too important to leave to relative strangers.”

“And you’re too important to leave to Vinny,” Kaira said.

“Honestly,” Azraea said, “I can take care of myself here. Maybe I was more than a little lost in the countryside and nearly helpless in the wilderness, but this is a city - the same city I spent most of my adult life in. This is my world.”

Kaira was visibly perturbed, “There are streets filled with people who’d kill you as soon as look at you. I’m afraid of what could happen to you once the sun goes down.”

“In Kingstown, I’ve always been afraid of what could happen to me once the sun goes down. For a woman who looks like me, current events haven’t changed much,” Azraea reminded her, “But this is not me being brave. I don’t want to be alone here. It scares me not having you around right now, but I really think this plan needs you back there with Ochsner. And I know you can make the ride faster if you’re alone. And you can take both of our horses; that will help.”

“Alright,” Kaira said, “Let me get a night’s sleep in a bed, and I’ll head back out tomorrow morning.”

After checking in with everyone else via their wondrous new long-range communication system, Azraea and Kaira spent the remainder of their afternoon on a relatively mundane task – learning about the heraldry system in Kingstown. All the town-criers and printing presses in the city were owned by a few businesses that made their profits by drawing people’s interest with stories and news, and then bombarding them with paid advertising.

Our heroes’ plan had been to relate a (partly invented) story about how the mayor of the town of Defiance had threatened secession from the kingdom unless criminal charges were levied against the dragon, and had even gone so far as to halt any payments being made to the dragon. They’d expected they’d have to put a slightly villainous spin on it to satisfy the heralds, but that wasn’t necessarily a problem; the public was not unfamiliar with criminal folk heroes, and the real agenda was to get the dragon angry, in case the two orcs Thrakaduhl had dealt with didn’t bring his message.

This sort of media manipulation wasn’t a simple proposition, however. Timing was an issue, of course, as they didn’t want to set the dragon off too soon. Vinny had dealt with Meingen, so there was no rush to get the dragon out of the city, but at the same time, it would only be a matter of time before the creature took an interest in the defeat of Defiance’s late master. When that happened, Azraea wanted to make sure the dragon was enraged enough to fly out and deal with it personally rather than send a cadre of mercenaries to burn Defiance to the ground.

Knowing where to start was also a problem. It was surprisingly hard to find out who needed to be bribed for their story to make it to the streets. They tried chatting up people at the heraldry businesses, but there was simply no way to casually bring something like that up. In the end, they’d put out some feelers through the few people they did know that might be connected to the heralds but they were afraid to say too much too soon.

And finally, there was the issue of currency for making bribes. Azraea and Kaira had only traveled with a small portion of the Gnoman gold they’d been awarded for resolving the scolopendra problem, which meant that they needed to talk to Vinny’s cousin, Vidi.

Just as before, Vidi was alone in his agency’s office, hard at work on some sort of book-keeping. He was clearly surprised to see Azraea when she walked in.

“Are you here to collect on the scolopendra contract?” Vidi asked, “I thought that payment had been arranged independently…?”

“It was,” Azraea said, flashing one of the Gnoman coins they’d brought from their payment, “But Vinny sent us with other business.” She handed the Gnoman a scroll bound with a wax seal imprinted with Vinny’s signet ring.

Vidi popped the seal and began reading, “Oh, my. This is, unexpected.”

“Obviously, Vinny thought it wise to leave out some details, at least when it came to putting anything on paper,” Kaira said.

“Oh, yes, I can understand that,” he passed the scroll over the candle on his desk, igniting it, and tossed it into the cold ashes in the shop’s presently unused hearth, “So, money then.”

“Yes,” Azraea said, “We need to purchase the services of certain individuals in town, but all we have are the few Gnoman coins we could carry with us on what was a very fast ride back from Defiance.”

“Well, the king has ordered a crackdown on people trading money minted outside our borders, so that could be a hindrance. Are these services being purchased legitimately?” Vidi asked.

“This would be an off-the-books payment for advertising space,” Kaira tried to put it delicately.

“Oh, so we’re paying for news then,” Vidi nodded, “I haven’t done that yet in this country but I keep abreast of certain things. Obviously, most of the money going into the heralds comes through big advertising contracts with major businesses. For the biggest of the heralds, those contracts really just represent one hand feeding the other, since the herald and the businesses it promotes are all owned by the same entity.”

“The dragon?” Kaira guessed.

“Yep.  Either way, all of the advertising contracts for the big heralds are all handled on paper. No liquid cash involved. Smaller heralds contract ad space on a weekly basis using our lovely new lead coins, but needless to say, the cost is going up as the value of the coin plummets. But, really, it’s not advertisements you need. You need to get an actual news story printed, and that’s even more complicated,” Vidi said.

“How so?” Kaira asked.

“Well, as you said yourself,” Vidi explained, “It needs to be off-the-books, and anonymity is expensive. Second, you’re talking about more than just paying some guy to write a story. You’ve got to get a herald to carry his story, and you have to make sure that that herald’s distributor actually takes it to the streets.”

“Distributor?” Azraea asked.

“Yeah, well, the heralds organize the work of their writers, right? They organize scripts for the town criers, and print papers for sale on the streets. They don’t actually employ the town criers, though, or the people who sell their papers – that’s all contracted through distribution unions.”

“Why?” Kaira asked, “That seems ridiculously complicated.”

“Well, as I understand it, it was a law the King Hylas's father pushed for back when you two were probably kids. It prevented a monopoly that would have allowed one herald to starve or drive out the other heralds.”

“I guess that makes sense…” Kaira couldn’t think of a reason she would have been opposed to it at the time.

“Making sure the heralds all play fair? Definitely makes sense. It’s just too bad they didn’t impose any actual regulations on the distributors to ensure they played fair too. They don’t.”

“So we have to buy a writer, a herald, and a distributor…” Azraea was imagining wheel barrows full of lead coins at this point.

“Not buy; outbid. The sort of people who are willing to take a bribe are either in the dragon’s pocket or afraid of winding up in her gullet. If you want to circulate something that will piss her off, you’ll have to offer enough money to override that influence.”

“Is that even possible?” Azraea asked.

“Ordinarily, I’d say no. But right now, as Caelia's official currency is plummeting in value, and the price of gold is skyrocketing, I’d say maybe. Most of the kingdom’s gold is in the dragon’s claws, so she’s effectively become even richer than she was before, but no one wants to accept credit for anything right now, and our minted money is quickly becoming worthless…”

“So if she wants to use the wealth she has, she will actually have to pull it out from under her scaly ass and start spending it,” Kaira followed.

“Oh, she’ll hate that,” Azraea said. Her economics professor had speculated that the physically valuable treasure horde that sat under the dragon had become the equivalent of a privately held gold reserve. It had likely been decades since the dragon had parted with any of the actual gold she physically sat on. Still, there was that pesky law about foreign currency…

 “Do you have anything other than Gnoman coins?” Azraea asked, “If not that’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”

“Well, like I said, the king’s condemned the use of foreign currency, so that does give us an additional challenge, but it’s not necessarily a problem,” Vidi assured her, “Gold is so valuable now that a lot of people are defying the order, and a lot of people are taking their business out of the country. Even the fairly modest traders are making a hard effort to make connections to the south, rather than buy and sell domestically. For them, accepting Gnoman coins here means they don’t have to worry about what the exchange rate is going to be in the Gnoman Empire in a month. Plus, I’ve been making a few investments in town to stay connected, and that means I’ve already put a fair number of Gnoman coins in circulation. People aren’t going to think it’s too strange if the Empress’s face is on your cash. What’ll draw more attention is if they see you with a lot of it, so I think it is best that I only partial out a bit at a time…”

Vidi pulled out an oil-skin tube just like the one they’d carried Vinny’s letter in. He popped the end off of the tube and shook some of the contents into his hand – more Gnoman gold. Vinny's group was certainly well-funded.

“Be discrete,” he said, “Don’t use this to pay for drinks, right? But one of these coins will get you room and board at the High Stag Inn for a week, and a lot of information. Rege, the owner, is pretty connected if you need to make any discrete purchases. I’ll look into our herald problem.”

Azraea thanked him and they headed back out the door.

Chapter 2 (Part II): You Never Really Go Home Again

Watching Kingstown in the waning days of the old kingdom was like watching an old sick man in hospice. You knew what was coming, yet you were still sort of surprised when it finally happened.

-          Magister Hamelin, telling his modern history class about his childhood in Kingstown

As Azraea and Kaira traveled to Kingstown, they felt the crushing weight of despair in the atmosphere. It went beyond the general pessimism that had been ubiquitous when they left, to feeling almost like the area had been subjected to some sort of real curse. Whether reflective of this miasma or a contributor to it, a number of businesses on the road into Kingstown were permanently closed, and traffic in and out of town was generally lighter than they expected – it was like the capital was already dying – Meingen’s weapon would have just put it out of its misery.

They dismounted as they neared the gates, and Kaira arranged for their horses to be stabled while Azraea tried to approach a few different people to talk about the state of the city. No one did more than exchange a few curt pleasantries with her, however, and one man forewent the pleasantries and spat at her with an especially obscene comment about her Arbarii bloodline.

This proved to be the true breaking point for Azraea’s nice-girl self, the point at which she finally let the ‘new’ her fully off its leash. Azraea daintily wiped the sputum from her face as Kaira stepped toward the man with her hand on one of the two long knives Vinny had given her before they left Defiance. As he looked anxiously at the elf warrior, Azraea surprised them both by grabbing the man's collar and driving her knee into his crotch, dropping him to the ground.

“Next time,” she said, “I expect you to kneel before I talk to you. Not after. Do you understand?” The man started to protest, but Azraea set one foot on his nearest hand and leaned closer to hear what he had to say, “I’m sorry, what was that?” He finally whimpered an apology, as the bones in his hand cracked, sharp edges dragging against nerves. He promised to be more courteous in the future, and she released him to hurry along his way.
"Too much?" Azraea asked Kaira.

“Well, that was pretty frightening,” Kaira said, “but also pretty bad-ass.”

“I used to think people would only treat you as well as you treated them, but I think, actually, that people will only treat you as well as you treat yourself,” Azraea observed.

“I think there’s some truth in that,” Kaira agreed, “Though I think Thrakaduhl’s father learned that treating people badly will eventually get you killed.”

Azraea smiled as they resumed their walk into town, “Yes that is true. Confidence and resolve should not be allowed to rot into selfishness and cruelty. But maybe, sometimes, people need to be shown the error of their ways in the most common language; force.”

“Hm,” Kaira mimicked the facetious academic tone Ochsner sometimes adopted, “Perhaps I should be more proactive in applying corrective violence to problems of social injustice.”

“Well, that’s the idea,” Azraea paused and looked at the castle that was visible above the outer wall even as they approached the east gate.

“You realize what we’ve been talking about is treason, right?” Kaira muttered as they neared one of the gate guards.

“That fat wyrm sitting on our kingdom’s wealth while our people starve, that’s treason.”

The guard suddenly reached out and pressed a hand to Azraea’s shoulder, halting her with gentle pressure, “Be careful where you go talking like that miss,” The man said, “The world’s not what it used to be.”

“Magister Schroeder?” Kaira had avoided the man’s gaze before but now recognized the weathered face and pale blue eyes under the helmet. “What are you doing pulling bottom rung guard duty? Why aren’t you teaching polearm basics or something at the University?”

Schroeder looked slightly embarrassed to have one of his former students see him like this, but it was clearly something that he’d experienced quite a lot. He turned to the other guard and waved, “Friends of mine; mind if I take ten?”

“Well gee, Roy, how can I possibly survive alone against this overwhelming hostile incursion,” the guard waved at the practically empty road, “Bring me something to drink and I’ll appreciate it.”

“Got it,” Schroeder gave him a thumbs-up and stashed his halberd and helmet in the small wooden shack that served as their guard station. He walked them into town and led them over to a familiar café with tables and benches outside. They sat down while he got his drinks. Situated so close to Kingstown’s main gate, the café had always managed good business, but it seemed that the past couple of weeks had taken a considerable toll on the place. It was much quieter than Azraea remembered it ever being, and dirtier as well.

In fact, as Azraea looked about, everything seemed to be remarkably dirty. Trash and debris littered the edges of the buildings and the streets were rife with manure, as if basic sanitation services had been cut back, or outright suspended. If that were the case, Azraea realized, it really wouldn’t have taken Kingstown long to get into this state. The capital was more densely populated than any other city in Caelia, with few ways in and out. Everything, people and buildings alike, were tightly packed within its walls; any waste that couldn’t be carried out through the ancient dwarven sewer system had to be gathered up and carted out by civil servants. Of course, none of that explained the other signs of decay – everywhere she looked there were broken windows, damaged signs and lamp fixtures – it reminded her of what Defiance looked like after years of subjugation by Thrakaduhl’s father.

Azraea immediately wondered if the entire city were in this state. Despite the fact that everything was sort of piled upon everything else, there were still very clearly defined areas within the city. 

Map of Kingstown before Azraea's reign. The castle sits at the south end in grey, and the royal manor is just northwest of it,  marked in blue. 

Kingstown sloped downhill from its south end to its north end, and so did the economic status of its residents. At the extreme south end of the city, the old castle was dug into what had once been a low mountain peak. High Street zig-zagged down from the castle to Kingstown’s wealthiest neighborhoods; aside from the dragon, the wealthiest individuals in the kingdom lived on estates out in the countryside, but there were exceptions; mostly individuals whose purse-strings were somehow tied to the dragon. Among them, the royal family was doubtlessly the most prominent; just below the castle, King Hylas lived in one of a handful of manors within Kingstown, homes that stood apart from the crush of buildings, separated from the cityscape by high wrought iron fences that enclosed open areas filled with green lawns and carefully tended gardens.

The area just north of the High End was considered ‘Uptown’; it was home to many of Caelia’s government buildings. Most of Caelia’s more prestigious businesses also had their main offices there, and packed around them were upper middle class residences – what Ochsner called the ‘shwanky’ apartments. North of Uptown was Gate Street; Gate Street bisected Kingstown, running directly from the eastern gate to the western gate, which had been permanently sealed decades ago. The university had been established around the western gate, and had been effectively cut into two campuses by the sealing of the gate.

Azraea had seldom had cause to go more than a few blocks south of the University. Aside from fairly frequent trips to the public library, she’d only gone up town for the few of her celebrations, honors ceremonies, concerts, and such that had taken place there. Like most faculty or long term students, half of Azraea’s adult life had been lived in ‘Downtown’ Kingstown, within a couple of blocks of Gate Street. She’d studied and worked at the university, shopped at Kingstown’s main market to its east, and lived among the lower to middle class apartments to its north. Given that the sight of Gate Street was so well engrained in her mind, it surprised Azraea that she didn’t immediately notice what was missing.

It was Kaira, leaning back in her chair and looking west, who finally pointed it out; the small clock tower that marked the eastern edge of the university campus was entirely absent. As they sat, they realized that even on the extreme east end of Gate Street, they should see other college buildings from where they were, but they did not. Knots tied in the women’s stomachs as they started to have an inkling of how bad it had become here.

 “I cannot believe how much they charge for these,” Schroeder said as he sat down with his drinks, “That’s an hour’s work, right there.”

Kaira looked at Schroeder and pointed down the street, “What the hell?”

“Yeah, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about," Schroeder pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, the furrowing of his brow emphasizing his long forehead and the prominent widow's peak his graying blonde hair formed at the middle. He relaxed his brow and took a sip of his drink, "I got laid off with a lot of faculty members due to budget cuts at the beginning of the summer. Awful situation all around; few other jobs to be had and you know what people say when you’ve been teaching for twenty years? No job experience. Apparently teaching other people to do something doesn’t count as actually doing it.” He mixed some dried honey into his drink, “But I got lucky. Not too long ago, something happened. Supposedly, someone tried to kill our landlord up there. Hard to imagine they could have come close, but I guess it was enough to unsettle her. Or maybe the idea of someone believing they could do it just offended her.”

“What did they try to do?” Kaira dug for more details.

“No idea,” the former professor said, “You can fish around for rumors – the heralds have spread quite a few. Poison is the most credible, I think. The one about lighting her on fire is just foolish. All of it is speculation though. Anyway, there was a lot of investigating, a lot of questions asked, a lot of fingers pointed, and eventually it came down on a group of foreign kids studying at the college. Seemed like a stretch, I mean the ‘motivation’ these kids were supposed to have for doing it was pretty flimsy, so a bunch of the students and remaining faculty members that knew the kids tried to intercede. Organized big sit down protests in the streets between here and the high end. Practically shut the whole town down.”

“Why?” Kaira asked. For her, non-violent protest was an oxymoron.

“Said they wanted to create awareness of the problem,” Schroeder continued, “I thought everyone in this kingdom was pretty aware it’s gone to shit, but I guess not. Anyway, there’ve been a lot of bad feelings towards the college this summer, so the inconvenience wasn’t really taken well by the rest of the town. The king ordered the guard to disperse the crowd in order to prevent violence. For Captain Cyphus, that meant taking a handful of guards up Gate Street near the university, where the biggest crowd was, and shouting, ‘disperse’ at the protesters a few times. Given both of his children were in the crowd, Cyphus was going to be pretty light handed.”

“I remember Cyphus,” Kaira said, “Not the most progressive man in the world, but not a bad guy, really.”

“Well, not being a bad guy meant the end of his career and, through logic I still don’t really understand, losing his pension. So then we got a new Captain, Medes. A lot of people don’t realize it, but there are actually people in this town who suck up to the dragon so enthusiastically it might be taken for genuine loyalty.”

“I take it Captain Medes is one of them?” Azraea commented.

Schroeder grunted as he sipped his drink, “Captain Medes, he takes us out in force, eager to show people how he thinks things should be done. Full armor, shields, and even swords. The only kindness is we bring training sticks, and keep our swords sheathed. Not that wooden clubs are especially kind when the other guy is unarmored, of course.” Shroeder shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe the story he was recalling, “Captain Medes shouted for the crowd to disperse, but threw in a few other colorful things as well. Got them good and whipped up, like he was actually trying to start something. He pushed them as much as you could without physically shoving someone. And then his personal guard did just that. What we’d call a shielded shoulder charge.”

“En masse?” Kaira asked.

“He had his own little retinue at the center of things, twenty men or so, with the rest of us hemming the crowd in at the edges. But those guys, man, when they moved, they moved. It was like a landslide of metal. I didn’t even know anyone drilled for that. When do you use that? You don’t use it on a battlefield, or on some random bandits. The only thing it’s good for his plowing into a crowd of unarmed, unarmored people, and leaving a lot of them with broken bones and split skulls. Well, despite being pretty intimidating, anyone who wasn’t trampled by his guard, which was most of the crowd, pushed back. After that it wasn’t long before there were bottles being thrown at us and kids being beaten in the street. The city went mad. While we were tied up turning a peaceful demonstration into a bloodbath, people in the surrounding blocks started looting, vandalizing anything they could get their hands on. Some of them claimed they were doing it in revenge for the college kids who were dying and some of them claimed they were doing it to get revenge on the college kids that ruined their businesses. I didn’t follow the logic in either case.”

“That’s terrible,” Kaira abandoned her usual stoicism.

“But it gets worse,” Azraea guessed.

“Yeah, I’m afraid it does,” Schroeder took another drink, “So, the dragon’s been watching all of this chaos the entire time, right? From up in the castle, I guess the dragon decides there’s just too much noise, or maybe she decides that the situation is just not quite awful enough. When the guard gets most of the mob confined to the west end of Gate Street, she just comes swooping down and vomits a belly full of fire onto the rioting mob. I’d never seen dragon fire before that day. I always thought it would just… vaporize someone. Reduce them to dust. But it doesn’t. It’s not as hot as you’d think. At least it wasn’t that day. It burned slow, see? But it stuck to those poor people like honey. Cyphus’s kids were on the other side of my shield when they got hit. In the end, all I could do was draw my sword and put them out of their misery.”

“And the university?” Azraea asked.

“It burned down that day. Fire brigades couldn’t be organized because of the rioters. We were told it was destroyed by fires the students started. Of course, people argued over whether the rioters set the fire deliberately, but I always figured it was collateral from the dragon burning the mob. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not, though. I thought the university was a cash cow for her. All that tuition had to go somewhere, right? And it wasn’t to the magisters.”

“So that’s it then? The university’s just, gone…” Kaira was more upset than she would have expected. Ochsner would be devastated.

“Most of it,” Schroeder said, “a few buildings on the edges survived, but the university is indefinitely shut down.”

“Well, don’t get too excited,” Azraea said, “I’m sure we’ll still have to pay back our loans.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Schroeder said, “but I thought you kids deserved to know what’s going on.”

“How exactly did people take to the dragon just deciding to murder dozens of people in the street?” Kaira asked. The dragon had, supposedly, played things pretty straight for over a century. There were the occasional accusations and scandals, but nothing as blatant as this.

“Oh, people flipped out over it, you can be sure,” Schroeder said, “But the king issued her a commendation for taking swift, decisive action to maintain the safety and security of the realm.”

“And people bought into that?” Kaira asked.

“I imagine the people who were happy to see the students and faculty burned to death did,” Azraea said.

“Exactly, and there’s a lot of them on the streets now,” Schroeder said, “A lot of people who want them avenged too, though. The anger in this city is full up like a flooded lake, and the dam could break any day. I don’t know what business you have here but if I were you girls, with all due respect, I wouldn’t stay any longer than I absolutely have to.” Schroeder wished them the best of luck and took the drinks back to his post at the gate.