(Path of the Dragon Mage: Exiled) 34. Quest Complete (Patreon)

"... think he's waking up," said a distant voice.

"Corvus? Can you hear me?" Gwen's voice, closer.

A warm hand brushed across his forehead. He opened his eyes to see  her leaning over him, her expression pinched in concern. Tears made  tracks down her dusty cheeks.

"Finally." Roan's face appeared over Gwen's shoulder. "I thought you died."

"What?" Only then did he realize he clutched something warm against  his chest. Something that chased away the unnatural chill and blunted  the claws of magic that tried to steal his life from him. It was still  trying.

Health 225/225   

Stamina 100/100   

Mana 225/225

His wells were at full. There were other notifications awaiting him, too. He ignored them too. He had a much bigger problem.

Now he was more awake he realized he lay on his side, curled around the dragon egg like a small child with a stuffed animal.

Oh no.

He would have been horrified about that if he weren't busy horrified about everything else.

"No, don't sit up," Gwen said, pushing him back down as he rolled over.

Every second he held the dragon egg, he felt stronger and more  clearheaded. His health and stamina had been recharged, but he could  feel the lingering effects of the horseshoe runes drawing mana away as  quickly as it refilled.

He was drawing from the egg as surely as the horseshoe was drawing from him.

The moment he set the egg down, his mana began to plunge. Not the at  the quick flash rate it had before, but he was losing several points a  second.

"The horseshoe," he croaked, looking around. "Where is it?"

Gwen pointed to a stop near his feet where he must have dropped it.  It still glowed, the runes bright lit with an ominous light.  Immediately, Corvus snatched it up and lurched to the shoreline. He  plunged the horseshoe in, scrubbing and swishing it around in the water  to remove his blood from it.

Something snapped deep inside like a rope breaking — the magic binding himself to the runes. The draining ceased.

Suddenly furious — at the horseshoe, but mostly at himself —he tossed  the thing as far as he could. It plopped into the water where, he  hoped, it would sink to the bottom and rust away to nothing.

Roan made a noise of protest but had made no move to stop him.

When Corvus turned back, both horsemen kids were staring at him as if they looked at a ghost.

Silently, Corvus picked up his dragon egg. He didn't think it was his  imagination — the familiar pulse against his fingers was shallower,  somehow. As if the life inside was tired from the strain of keeping him  alive. He automatically shifted to hold it in the crook of his arm — the  same way Starella held hers.

"You were reaching for the bag before you collapsed," Roan said. In  the dim moonlight, he looked nearly man-grown. "Is that egg what I think  it is?"

"Don't tell," Corvus said tiredly.

Roan sat down very hard.

"What is it?" Gwen looked back and forth between the boys. "What's wrong? What kind of egg is that?"

Corvus cringed and glanced at Roan who stared back, his eyes wide.

So, he looked at Gwen, instead. He could feel his deception skill in  the back of his mind tingling and knew he could convince Gwen of an  untruth.

Roan knew too much to be lied to, but he needed Corvus to heal  CloudStrike of her infertility. He could be manipulated into keeping his  secret. For, a time, at least.

That was what his mother would have done.

"It's a dragon egg," Corvus said, on the heels of that thought. "Given to me on my tenth birthday by my grandfather, the King."

There was dead silence for the space of several heartbeats.

"You're a prince?" Gwen asked, hushed.

"I was."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Roan exclaimed. "You don't just stop being a prince!"

Corvus winced. "Not so loud!" He looked around as weary as if the bushes had eyes.

Roan sputtered. "But... but you can't be one of them royals. You're  in the middle of nowhere. This is the scrubland. What is a prince doing  here?"

Corvus clutched the dragon egg harder. "My father didn't want me  because I can't do magic, and my mother... my mother shamed herself. It  reflected on me." He took a breath. "But I'm not a prince anymore.  That's why I'm training with Solt—"

"Then why do you still have that?" Roan stabbed a finger at the dragon egg.

"What do you mean, Roan?" Gwen asked.

"Don't you know the stories? All princes and princesses get a dragon  egg to decide who will be the new ruler. As long as Corvus has that, he  has a shot at the crown."

Gwen looked as if she wasn't sure if her brother was joking or not.

"You can't tell anyone," Corvus insisted. "It's the highest crime to  remove a dragon egg from the palace grounds. The punishment is  execution."

Roan scowled. "Then why did you bring it with you?"

"My cousin, Starella, packed it for me. She was being nice."

"Was she?" Roan asked.

That stopped Corvus short. Then, in the next moment, he pushed the  flare of suspicion away. Starella loved him. there wasn't a mean bone in  her body.

But he used to believe the same of his Aunt, and she had lied to him about Solt... hadn't she? Or had he misunderstood?

"Does the King know you took your dragon egg with you?" Gwen asked.  Her eyes had grown large again — not in shock, but fear on his behalf.

"I don't know, but I highly doubt it. The hatching grounds contain  hundreds of eggs, No one wants to try again with an egg that someone  else has failed to hatch. Also, my aunt implied that my father fired all  my serving staff, so I doubt anyone who knew me cleaned out my old  rooms. There are rivalries between factions of servants—"

"Servants," Roan scoffed. "I'm surprised you came out of that fancy tower at all."

"I was thrown out!" Corvus snapped back, annoyed. "And before then, I  had never once left the grounds. Never. Or allowed to speak casually  with kids my own age. My only companions were tutors, and they were  paid. And if I wasn't in lessons with them, I was supposed to practice  magic I couldn't do. Or attending formal events to be snickered at by  nobles when they thought I wasn't looking. Master Solt is crabby and  drinks too much, but at least he's upfront with me and never tells me  I'm doing things wrong all the time without ever showing me how to do it  right!"

He was yelling, he realized. Practically screaming at out the words —  old pains he bad barely admitted to himself — when he had been so  adamant about not drawing attention.

Maybe he was like his father after all. Maybe that was why Gwen and Roan were staring at him like he had grown two heads.

Embarrassed, he stumbled to a halt and would have apologized, except  Gwen swooped in and threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you got out," she breathed in his ear, "and that you're here now."

He tensed, throat tight. He wasn't sure what to say.

Gwen went on. "Of course, I won't tell anyone about the egg."

Sheer relief sagged his frame. "Thank you."

She released him, which he wasn’t sure was a good or a bad thing.

Roan looked uncomfortable with all the emotion flying around. He  scratched the back of his neck. "Solt's other noble brats always made it  sound like sunshine and roses back at their homes."

"Maybe it was for them," Corvus said. "Royalty are held to a higher standard."

Roan shook his head. "Yeah, okay, whatever. I won't say anything  either. It's not like anyone would believe some scrawny kid I know used  to be a prince, anyway."

"Good," Corvus said, "Because you'll have a hard time finding someone else to charge your new horseshoe."

Gwen let out a gasp and Roan looked at him hard. "You mean... your crazy plan worked?"

"Yes, and no," he admitted. "The ownership stamp of hedge-witches who  etched those runes was too strong. I couldn't break it. It just drained  my man—" He stopped, realizing Roan and Gwen wouldn't understand 'mana'  or 'stamina' in the way he did. "My magic and life force. It was a  little like stepping into a trap, OW!"

Gwen had slugged his shoulder, hard. It had not been a friendly hit. "I told you that was a bad idea!"

"I know—"

"No, you don't know! Why didn't you test it out first? You could have  used any runes!" She pulled out her pendant which was tucked under her  shirt. "You could have smeared blood all over this and saw what  happened, I wouldn't have cared!"

Corvus... felt like he had been struck over the head instead of on  the shoulder. Roan was making a face, too, so at least he didn't feel  like the only dumb one right then.

"You didn't listen because I'm just a girl, right? What would I know  about runes or taking risks?" Gwen's voice had taken on a bitter edge.  "Maybe if it were a sewing rune, or a rune that married people, or—"

"This doesn't have anything to do with you being a girl. And what do  you mean marrying—" Corvus stopped as, behind Gwen, Roan shook his head  quickly and made a cut-off motion.

Apparently, that was a sore subject.

In the next moment, Gwen stood right up to Corvus, her angry face inches from his.

"Maybe princes aren't supposed to ask for help. Is that it? Well, you  aren't a prince anymore. You can take your time if you don’t know  something. The clan elders haven't figured out CloudStrike's barren,  yet. We could have held them off. You didn't need to risk your life for  that! You almost died in front of us."

"I didn't—"

"You. Weren't. Breathing!"

She shoved him on the last word, making him stumble back a step. Her  face was screwed up as if she were about to cry again, but no tears  fell.

"Sorry," Corvus said, softly, feeling lost and a little stunned. It would have been better if she had hit him. "I... sorry."

Gwen wiped at her dry eyes. Her horse, NightShade, walked over and  waffled her shoulder. Then he turned his great black head and gave  Corvus a disappointed look.

Roan cleared his throat. "So, the runes drained you. They won't... do the same to CloudStrike, will they?"

"No." He gave himself a mental shake. "Not a chance." He glanced at  Gwen who still wasn't looking at him, so he awkwardly continued.  "Anyway, I couldn't break the ownership on the rune but they still lit  up, bright as day. You saw them, right?"

Roan frowned but nodded.

"I'll retrace them right now — they'll be mine without the ownership marks. Then we activate them and see what happens."

Gwen spoke up. "But isn't your... lifeforce drained?"

"No, my dragon egg replenished me. She's done it before." He frowned  down at the egg. "But I don't like to do it, because I'm afraid of  taking too much."

This earned a small smile from Gwen. "Your dragon's a girl, too?"

"What, no. I—" He stopped and reviewed what he just said. Then he  looked down at the egg still clutched close. She sat, warm and  content... and just a little mischievous.

She was waiting for her name.

"I didn't know until now," Corvus breathed, then looked up at his  friends. "Quick, what's the best female name you can think of?"

"Uh," said Roan.

"Gwenna," said Gwen. "Obviously."

Corvus scowled. "I'm serious!"

"Tiana." Roan's voice was unusually subdued. "The name of our mother."

Corvus nodded, held the egg in his hands and said, "Come out into the world, Tiana."

There was a beat. And then another. And a third, in which nothing continued to happen.

"What's going on?" Gwen asked.

Corvus gave it another moment — just to make sure — then sighed. "I'm  trying to find her name. Um, someone told me dragons hatch out when  their mother's call their name. So, I'm trying to find hers. I thought  that this might be the moment... but I guess not." He patted the shell  in apology.

"Probably for the best," Roan said, "I loved my mom, but she was all Horsefolk. A dragon wouldn't have suited her."

Gwen nodded, her eyes on the egg. "Can I touch her?"

"Go ahead." He couldn't remember anyone back in the palace being  interested in his dragon egg specifically. The servants had likely been  too intimidated to get close, the tutors had been too busy, and the  other members of the royal family had been either uninterested or seen  his egg as a challenger.

He held up the copper and gold egg. "Go on. You can't hurt it."

Gwen carefully reached out and placed her hand on the curved top of the shell. "She's warm."

Roan frowned and did the same. "Huh. Feels like ceramic, but more solid."

Neither one of them seemed to register the pulse of life that Corvus  felt when he touched the egg. Made sense. According to the  notifications, it was soul-bound to him.

Reluctantly, he returned the egg to the bag of holding before he came back to the problem at hand.

"I gotta draw out those runes while they're fresh in my mind."

There had been three in total, but as he already knew the first, only the other two had been new.

He drew out the two others separately from one another.

The first was the simple silhouette of a horse. The interesting thing  was the image was made with one unbroken line that seemed to meld into  the outside barrier circle.

He knew before he activated it that this would ensure the power of  the runes would only be pointed towards horses. This was good, otherwise  the increased fertility may give a rider or farrier a... surprise.

The next rune was more interesting.

It was a spiral — simple, at first glance. Though the lines were thin and there were twelve circles in total.

You have added Slow-Release (twelve months) to your Rune Dictionary.

A linked-only rune. When used will release power slowly over twelve months.

When he thought of how quickly the Ten Points of Life rune had burned through its power, and how disastrous it had been for the germinating grass seeds... he understood.

So, altogether he had the Ten Points of Life, Horse Restriction, and Slow-Release.

Together, hopefully, they would be enough to allow a barren horse to bring a foal to life.

He sat back. "This is it."

Roan looked at the runes as if he dared not to hope. To his surprise,  even CloudStrike came over to snuffle over them. She and Roan seemed to  confer for a moment, though there were no words spoken. Then Roan  nodded.

"Can you etch them on the new shoe tonight? I have a blank in her saddlebag."

"You do?"

He nodded once. "And the wood to heat a fire hot enough."

"I have a rune for that, too," Corvus said.

The Ever-Flame rune was becoming quite useful.

* * *

It took nearly the rest of the night to complete the task. Roan had a  sharp file to etch the rune in the glowing hot horseshoe... though it  took some practice to get it right and make the runes as smooth as was  required.

Thankfully, Roan had a few spare horseshoes to practice on.

The heat of the Ever-Flame rune seemed to act oddly on the  horseshoe, or maybe it was the magic itself. The metal became soft  enough to carve into, and yet still held the integrity of the shoe.

"You have to keep this on her for the whole pregnancy," Corvus warned. "I don't know how often horseshoes are replaced, but..."

Roan and CloudStrike exchanged a look.

"She will step carefully," Roan said. "Whatever it takes."

When Corvus carved the runes in, he added his names in the gaps where  the runes overlapped. No one would be able to break his rune, and he  suspected, it would give the linked runes additional protection. Perhaps  that was how the runes on the other horseshoe managed to survive  despite being so degraded.

Finally, they waited until Corvus's mana well had recharged to full. Then he activated the runes.

You have increased your Rune Ownership skill two levels.
 New level: Beginner 4

You have increased your Rune Charge skill.
 New level: Beginner 8

Note: Additional XP to be disbursed once general skill: Rune Magic reaches intermediate level.

Quest Completed! You have completed the quest: Recreate What Has Been Lost.

Reward: 100XP, become an ally of Kael (Horseman Clan Leader), renown to all Horseman Clans.

Congratulations! You have gained a level!
New Level: 6. XP to next level: 95/700. Mana has increased by 50. Health has increased by 50.
You have 3 unassigned skill points.

"It worked," Corvus breathed.

He barely finished the word before Roan pulled him into a huge  rib-cracking hug. It wasn't nearly as nice as one of Gwen's hug. He  smelled like horse.

And Roan's hug was nothing to CloudStrike who draped her horsey head and neck over them both and leaned down, hard.