(Path of the Dragon Mage: Exiled) 31. The Closed Gate (Patreon)

Corvus didn't think about his answer. He accepted YES.

The Quest Continues! (Save The Dragons!)

As a traveler along the Path of the  Dragon Mage, you have a natural affinity for dragon kind. Seek out the  daffodil dragon and learn her secret.

Quest Difficulty: Unknown

Rewards: Unknown

Failure to complete the quest: Unknown

The terms of the quest… could have been clearer.

He frowned and then dismissed the message. There would be time to  look over the quest again, and his pending notifications. Right now, he  needed to return to the village before Solt realized he was gone.

With the compass stone in hand, he started walking.

* * *

Corvus broke from the line of thick sagebrush, scratched and dirty  with twigs stuck this way and that in his dark hair. He'd had to use  animal trails, and some of them had been quite narrow requiring him to  drop to his hands and knees at certain points and crawl through the  thick brush.

The Compass Rose rune had worked a treat. When he held the stone and  pictured the village, the image of a needle appeared on the compass and  pointed him directly towards his destination.

The downside was it didn't account for roads or human pathways. This,  he suspected, was a rune used by dragons who could fly directly from  one point to another.

It had taken him the better part of several hours, during which the  timer on the rune had run out. He had copied the rune down exactly and  reactivated it upon the rock, at the cost of only seventy-five mana. Now  he had the Rose Compass rune in his dictionary.

The blue dragon had taught him an invaluable rune.

His head spun both from that and a host of other revelations.

Since leaving the palace, he had been faced with the fact there were  gaps in his education, a growing list of items a prince in training  ought to know about his own Kingdom: The Path systems, hedge-witches,  the blight… among many other things.

There was much he didn't know, and it was daunting to think about  what else he might learn, and why so much had been kept from him.

Including the fact that common feral dragons could speak, and preform magic…

Why wasn't there a hint of this in the Great Palace Library? he thought.

The Great Palace Library was immense. It took up an entire five-story  building within the sprawling palace complex. Scholars could spend a  lifetime within the library and never read all the books and scrolls. He  was led to believe the library contained the total sum of knowledge in  the kingdom. One only needed to know how to look for what they needed.

There had been an entire room dedicated just to dragons; the history, and the lore.

Corvus had not read through all the many, many scrolls and books on  dragons, but he certainly had done his research. Nothing suggested  common feral dragons could speak or that they called their hatchlings  out of the egg by name.

It was a thought both enraging and sobering. What else was missing from the library? And had it been done on purpose?

This was his state of mind as he finally laid his eyes on Duck Water village again.

The last half mile before the village walls had been cleared of tall brush. That, and his Night Vision gave him an excellent view of the firmly shut gate.

Of course.

He did not know why he expected to simply walk back to the village.  Of course travelers would be barred from coming and going at night. Why  else have the high walls?

He suspected the gates would open come morning. Until then, he was locked out.

Backing into the sagebrush again, he located a small clearing not too  far off the closest animal path. He sat leaning against the trunk of an  old bush that was so thick and gnarled it was practically a tree.

By his best guess, he had several hours until dawn. The smart thing  to do would be to catch some sleep. His body was sore and ached, but  there was too much to think about. Too much to consider.

So instead, he pulled out his dragon egg from the bag of holding and  held it on his lap, his fingers tracing over the flecks and threads of  gold that inlaid the coppery shell.

As he did, pulled up his delayed notifications.

Congratulations! You have gained a level!

New Level: 5. XP to next level: 595/600. Mana has increased by 50. Health has increased by 50.

Congratulations! For reaching a level 5 milestone you have been awarded 5 attribute points.

The rewards from his quest alone had given him enough XP to push him  nearly to level 6. There were no additional skill points. For the first  time, he had had attribute points to spend.

That was intriguing. It occurred to him that his basic  attributes—Strength, Speed, Stamina, Dexterity, Charisma, Intelligence,  and Wisdom—had only advanced from magical items such as his Hell Hound  bone ring and Trophy Tooth necklace, and the rare times he'd unlocked a  Special Attribute such as his Night Vision.

But he had been exercising diligently under Solt's eye. Shouldn't that have affected his speed and stamina?

Perhaps… The numbers were a measure representing a range. He was  certainly stronger and faster than before. But he felt he sometimes hit  against barriers when he trained. He could train hauling buckets of  water around, but his strength and stamina would not break through until  he added numbers to his attribute score. Or perhaps… what if the  reverse was true? What if he could not perform at a certain level until  his stats increased…

Corvus briefly closed his eyes.

"I'm getting a headache," he muttered to the egg.

In answer, he felt a comforting pulse against fingertips.

"Larissa was right. I do like level five bonus, but I'm not sure what to do with the attribute points yet."

Well, one at least should go to his stamina. It was markedly low compared to his strength, and would help when he needed his Second Wind,  too. He hesitated in spending the rest, though. Not until he had time  to think more fully about how they would best suit his path.

Mentally, he placed a point in his stamina, bringing it to 12 in  addition to the Hell Hound bone ring. Instantly, he felt instantly more  refreshed. It felt as if he had gotten, perhaps, a few hours of sleep.

"That's better," he said, then refocused on the rest of his notifications. "What do you expect these bonus class points do?"

When he tried to access the points, the number was a lighter gray in  his vision than the rest. He seemed to be locked out of fully accessing  them.

Frowning, Corvus went to his Path Menu.

All this work and he still had not reached the first step in his path. The same choices were there before:

Foot Soldier
Hedge Witch
Scullery Boy

Were these… Classes? Wasn't that what Larissa had called them? If  that was the case, he would have access to these points when he finally  reached the first step.

While his body felt more rested, his thoughts felt dragged down as if  he were walking through some of Solt's thick stew. He set that mystery  aside for later, as well.

Lastly, and most importantly, was his dragon egg.

He focused on the copper-gold shell again. "You need a name. Do you have any ideas?"

The hatchling inside, of course, stayed silent.

"My education clearly has some gaps," he repeated. "But I've read  extensively about previous royal dragons. So I have a starting point."

He paused, thinking back. "There was FireFang who was King Arliss's  companion. King Arliss's talent was fire. He was said to be able to set  entire fields alight if he wanted. But once the fire was out, the soil  would become fertile again, and crops would grow back ten times better  than before. He was said to have fielded petitions from other Kingdoms.  People from all over begged for him to set their land on fire."

He looked around at the sagebrush which choked out the roads from the  village to the lake. "All this could use some cleansing fire… maybe the  plants could grow back as something useful."

He returned his attention to the egg.

"Then there was Temperance. Her partner was Queen Persephone who led  our Kingdom into an entire century of peace even after her reign ended.  Temperance was supposed to be so beautiful… the color of pure gold so  bright she was hard to look at in the sunlight."

The words of his quest floated in and out of his mind.

Seek out the daffodil dragon and learn her secret.

A… daffodil yellow dragon, perhaps?

Shaking his head, he returned his thoughts on Royal dragons of old.  Specifically, their names. "There was Astaroth, Moonlight, Ash,  SilentStalker…"

He frowned, he hadn't realized it before, but there was a distinct  pattern to Royal dragon names. Most were descriptive, and their virtues  and powers seemed to follow.

He'd always assumed that the Kings and Queens had named their mounts  as a tribute to the leaders that they would like to be. But what if he  had that backward, too?

What if the dragon name informed the strengths of the King or Queen. Not the other way around?

"Then I'll have to find you a strong name," he decided. "SteelTongue?  No? How about Boldwings? Hmm… Cinderclaw, Moonchild… Synthesis…"

Eventually, he ran out of descriptive names and then just started  running through as many other names as he could think of, good and bad.  Anything that came to mind. He even tried some common human names.

It would've helped if he knew his dragon was male or female.

The egg didn't so much as pulse against his fingers, and the shell  remained uncracked. He got the impression that it was waiting.

Eventually, he heard the rumble of wheels on packed earth. Replacing  the egg in his bag, he crawled to an opening in the brush to peer out.  Wagons and carts, just visible in the early dawn light, were starting to  pull up to the still closed gate. They were waiting for the village to  open for business.

Turning, Corvus took a few pathways through the brush until he could  meet up with the road a little further from the village. Then he  reversed course and sauntered up along the roadway to the carts as if he  had come from the direction of Solt's estate.

Surely the dragon's escape had been noticed by now. His best hope was  to get lost in the crowd—though the dragon pens themselves were on  another side of the village, and he doubted anyone expected the person  who'd freed the dragons to fly off on dragon back much less return.

He ducked his head to hide a smile.

There were at least a dozen carts clustered up to the gate as the top  of the sun became visible along the horizon. Most of the teamsters and  merchants drank morning brew and chatted with each other in a tired,  companionable way. A few glanced at Corvus, but no one paid him any  special mind.

Finally, a shout came from the wall to stand clear. The gate swung open.

There was a line of guards on the other side—all crisp in their uniforms, and wearing grim expressions on their faces.

If it would not have raised instant suspicion, Corvus would have turned and run away.

However, after a surprised grumble, the merchants surged forward. It  seemed that most wanted to get their wares set up early for the day.  Placement for stalls among the market street was first come, first  serve.

The guards themselves glanced over the incoming carts. Most of the  attention, however, was on outgoing traffic. Corvus saw several people  pulled aside, tarps over the top of their wagons pulled back so the  contents could be inspected.

Did they think someone would smuggle a dragon out in a cart? He  thought with derision. Though the dragonets and eggs were certainly  small enough.

No one made a move to stop him as he slipped through the crowd and  into the marketplace proper. The merchants and vendors who lived inside  the village had a head start. Most had their stalls already constructed.

The smells of baking bread and frying meat had his mouth water, and  his stomach reminded him that it had been hours since he'd eaten last.  He was surprised he didn't have a stamina penalty for it.

After several quick stops, Corvus used the last of his coins to  purchase a meat pie so fresh out of the oven that the juices burned his  tongue and cost him a health point. He also bought more stripes of dried  meat to replace those that had gone down the dragonet's gullet.

Finally, with the bottom of the sun just touching the horizon, he made his way to the stables.

* * *

A half hour later, he found Solt standing outside the inn, looking annoyed.

"And where have you been?" Solt demanded.

Corvus put on his best shocked face. "I told you I was getting the  horses." He gestured to reins he held as he led Merry-Rose and Solt's  mare — both freshly brushed and saddled, their bags packed with the  supplies he'd purchased yesterday.

Solt narrowed bloodshot eyes, and Corvus held his breath. He could  only hope the older man hadn't noticed he'd been gone all night.

"Idiot boy," Solt snapped. "You let the stable master swindle you.  The amount you paid should have boarded the horses until midday. Now  we'll have to feed and water 'em out of our own pay."

Corvus ducked his head as if he was ashamed... and not to hide a smile.

Stomping over, Solt grabbed his horse's reins. "I hope you managed to  purchase decent supplies. I can't afford to buy oats for the horses  plus your breakfast."

Solt had already indulged in his breakfast, judging by the bits of egg yolk trapped in his stubble.

"I'll eat out of the rations," Corvus said, piously.

Solt's foul mood did not improve as they rode through the village on  the way back to the gate. It was proving to be a bright, sunny day. Solt  grumbled and squinted. He was likely suffering through a hangover.

Despite his complaints about money, Solt stopped at a wine stall to  make a purchase. Then, as an afterthought, he bought Corvus a meat pie  for breakfast anyway. It was his second of the morning, but he ate it  gratefully. The vendor, recognizing him, winked as he handed the pie  over.

Trouble hit as they got nearer to the gate. There were even more  uniformed guards than before, and all outgoing travelers were being held  pending a search.

What if they searched his bag of holding? Would they recognize a royal dragon egg?

Quickly, Corvus glanced to the top of the walls for signs of Larissa.  She had helped him once before, but if there was any way she could  provide a distraction…

Before he could think of a plan, Solt puffed up as much as any  affronted noble and kicked his horse forward to intercept the closest  guard.

Corvus could not hear what Solt said—whatever it was seemed to be  blistering. The guards let them pass after only a cursory search. They  didn't even look in his bag of holding. He let out a long breath of  relief.

"Idiots," Solt grumbled, once they were clear of the gate and headed down the road.

"What happened?" Corvus asked.

"It seems the village dragons made a stunning escape last night."  Solt snorted. "What did they expect? That people were hiding vicious  creatures inside their carry packs?"

"That is odd," Corvus agreed, his heart thumping.

They were nearly a mile down the road before Solt spoke again.

"You're being suspiciously quiet, boy."

"What?"

"For once, you're not full of questions. I expected you to be, considering how upset you were over the beasts last night."

"I... I'm glad they're free," Corvus said stiffly, straightening his back.

"Hmm. What time did you say you left the inn this morning?"

Corvus had seen his mother scheme and bluff too many times to allow  himself to be caught out by this line of questioning. When in doubt, act  affronted. "I certainly could not have anything to do with the dragons,  if that is what you're thinking," he said. "You said it yourself. Where  could I hide the beasts?"

"Where indeed?"

Corvus scowled. "And as I said, I'm glad they're free. Does every village have such horrid sport?"

"No, it's rare for anyone to get ahold of a live dragon. I can't  imagine how they did it." Solt gave him a sidelong glance. "They will be  looking for these, no doubt."

"Then I wish the dragons the best of luck," Corvus said honestly.

He looked back to the village once, not thinking of the dragons, but  of Larissa. He would have to find her again — and thank her for her  help.

* * *

When they returned to Solt's estate, Corvus was immediately set to  the task of brushing down the two sweaty horses and removing their tack.  Meanwhile, Solt staggered off to the house. Likely to sleep off the  remainder of his hangover.

No mention was made of sword practice later today. Good. That would  give him time to practice his runes. He still had several to try from  the noble house insignias.

Corvus was in the middle of brushing down Merry-Rose when something  odd caught his eye. The bags of oats he had piled in the corner just the  other day had been moved. One bag had toppled from the top and lay on  the ground.

Frowning, he went to retrieve the bag... only to find something  underneath. Three old, yellowed pieces of paper folded up with the  middle sewn together like a thin book.

He picked it up and grinned.

Gwen had visited last night, likely while he'd been in the village.  She was okay. Not only that, she had left her Aunt's list of runes, just  as she had promised.

Now it was time to hold up his end of the bargain. He had to focus on Roan's quest and fix the fertility horseshoe.