Dragon Mage 030 - So Much to Do (Patreon)

388 days until the Arkon Shield falls

2 days to Earth’s destruction

2 days until the Warren is destroyed

“Jamie? Jamie, wake up, I have to talk to you.”

I groaned and rolled over, but Tara didn’t let me go back to sleep. She tugged at my shoulder again.

I blinked open my eyes and stared blearily at the dark shape leaning over me. I knew it was Tara, yet I couldn’t make out any of her features. My gaze slid to the open tent flap. No light streamed through. What was Tara doing here so early?

“Eh?” I croaked. It was the best I could manage given my groggy state.

Tara sat back on her heels and handed me a cup of water.

Sitting up, I gulped it down gratefully, then squinted at her. “What time is it?”

“An hour before dawn,” replied Tara. “I wanted to tell you I am sorry,” she added after a hesitant pause.

I blinked. “Tara, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. My brain is still waking up,” I said with a smile.

My quip failed to raise an answering smile.

“I knew something was driving you, Jamie,” Tara continued, her face grave. “But I hadn’t realised how dark a tragedy you had suffered, or how raw the wound must still be. I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you… they must have hurt.”

My smile faded. “Tara,” I said carefully, “what are you talking about?”

She met my eyes, her own filled with pity. “Some of the new recruits that came through yesterday brought news of a ‘crazed cripple’ who had managed to kill an orc hunting party.” Her voice grew heavy. “Apparently the whole world watched as he took revenge upon them for… for killing his mother. When I heard the story, I knew it had to have been you.” She smiled sadly. “After all, you are the only crazed cripple I know.”

My face froze as Tara’s words hammered into me. From the depths of my mind, the spectre of Mum’s death rose up again. My mouth opened, then closed soundlessly. Images flashed before my eyes in torturous detail. It felt real, too real. I gasped. Clutching at my arms, I bent forward and tried to escape the scenes playing out in my head.

Tara waited patiently. She watched me. Her expression seemed more open than I had seen before. Her hands reached out and hovered halfway, a wordless offer to share the burden of my grief.

I rocked back. I couldn’t deal with her pity, not now. “And you had to wake me before dawn to tell me this?” I asked, lashing out even though I knew she didn’t deserve it.

“No,” Tara replied, her voice cold as she withdrew her hands. “I came this early because I have been reassigned. The loggers were attacked in the woods yesterday. The commander wants their protection detail increased and she has put me in charge. My company is about to move out. I thought it best to speak to you before I left.” She rose to her feet. “But you are right, I should not have bothered you with this so early. Good day, Jamie.” Tara spun on her heel to leave.

“Wait, Tara,” I called out, stopping her before she left. She halted, but did not turn around.

“Who else knows?”

“The commander does,” she said, her back stiff and unyielding. “Possibly the other captains, too. I am not sure.”

My head fell. Everyone.

Tara waited a heartbeat for me to go on, but caught up in my own misery, I barely noticed.

Then she left and I was alone.

✽✽✽

I tried to go back to bed after that, but unsurprisingly sleep proved elusive. My emotions were a jumbled mess, circling in on themselves. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t rid my mind of thoughts of Mum and… Tara.

“Enough, Jamie,” I growled. Stomping out of my tent, I sank down on the ground. It was still dark and most of the camp appeared asleep. On the eastern side of the camp though, I noticed movement. It had to be Tara and the loggers. They were getting an early start.

I jerked my head around. I didn’t want to think of Tara. For want of something to occupy my thoughts, I turned my mind to my spellcasting.

I called up the spellform of the dragonfire projectile spell I had conceived last night and inspected its design again. I could no more find fault with it today than I could last night. But then again, my mind wasn’t particularly clear this morning either.

In disgust, I banished the spellform and began training my magic. Picking the air magic Discipline at random, I drew mana into my mind and shaped a rudimentary construct of air.

I followed the training philosophy I had applied during the journey into the foothills and fell into a light trance while I experimented with the form and shape of air.

An hour later, as the first rays of the rising sun touched my face, I opened my eyes. The training had done me some good and my racing thoughts had quietened—somewhat.

I inhaled deeply and checked the Trials alert awaiting my attention.

Your skill in air magic has advanced to: level 4.

Not bad, I thought and dismissed the message. Rising to my feet, I limped westwards to the river.

To my surprise, the spearmen were not gathered on the lower riverbanks. Studying the skyline, I realised why.

The wooden palisade had been completed—or at least its western section had—and the spearmen were gathered inside its boundary.

After I reached the wall I pushed through the ranks of waiting spearmen. Morale was high amongst the soldiers. They chatted and laughed in a more relaxed manner than I had observed them before. Yesterday’s success, or the wall’s completion, had served to raise their spirits.

Spotting Lieutenant John and Captain Petrov, I strode over to join them. The pair were standing before the only open section in the riverside wall. Given the size of the open area, I assumed a gate would be installed there soon.

“John,” I greeted as I drew closer. “Any sign of the murluks yet?”

“No,” replied the big man. He scratched his head in confusion. “They’re late again.”

I nodded. It was a good sign. “The spearmen will meet them here?”

“That’s the plan,” agreed John. He gestured to the break in the wall in front of us. “We were hoping to funnel the creatures through this space. Assuming the buggers can’t breach the palisade itself, we should be able to hold them at bay here easily enough.” His gaze slid towards me. “Unless you were planning on doing your whole solo act down at the shore again?”

“I actually was,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t look like I will be needed here today, even if murluks do show up.”

“The men will feel better with your presence here anyway,” John assured me.

I stared out of the open gate. The river remained quiescent. No splashes marred its surface. Will the murluks show up today? I wondered.

Frowning, I sat down to train my air magic further while I waited.

✽✽✽

Your skill in air magic has advanced to: level 6.

The murluks did not come, and after an hour I gave up waiting for them.

“Alright, John, looks like they are a no show. I’m going to see if I can make myself useful elsewhere. Will you send someone to fetch me if I am needed?”

“Sure thing, Jamie,” the big man replied.

Where to now? I wondered as I headed back to the tented camp. The murluks’ non-appearance was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it freed up the soldiers to help out elsewhere, but on the other, it robbed the Outpost of its only source of metal.

What if the murluks don’t return? I wondered. What then? The settlement needed to find a source of ore, I realised. And the mountains beyond the northern foothills were the most likely place to find it.

I stopped a passing crafter, and after getting him to direct me to Marcus, hurried to find the blonde captain. Marcus, I recalled, was in charge of the scouts.

Outside the scout captain’s tents, I found two familiar faces.

“Jamie!” exclaimed Laura. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Laura, Cass. I came to see to Marcus. Is he in there?”

“Yes, we’re just waiting to see him ourselves,” replied Cass.

“Ah alright. How are you two doing?”

The pair exchanged glances. “Well we haven’t had any adventures as exciting as our trip through the warren, if that is what you’re asking,” replied Cass with a laugh.

“It was an altogether boring day yesterday,” agreed Laura. “Which was fine by me.” She eyed me thoughtfully. “We heard you created quite the stir.”

I shrugged. By my own measure, I hadn’t done much, only what was necessary.

As if sensing my discomfort, Laura moved the conversation onwards. “Oh, I found out more about those obelisks you were looking for.”

“The dungeons?” I asked, my eyes lighting up. “Tell me,” I demanded.

“What’s this about dungeons?” asked Marcus, appearing at the entrance of his tent.

“Morning, Marcus,” I said, turning to the captain. He was studying the three of us with interest. “I asked Laura to find out if any of the scouts have come across obelisks,” I explained. “The Trials uses them to mark the entrance to dungeons.”

Marcus’ eyes gleamed. “Ah,” he said. I could tell the thought of dungeons excited him too. But a moment later he frowned. “You should have come to me,” he said reproachfully. “I receive all the scout reports, you know.”

I spread my hand in apology and turned back to Laura. “Did you find one?”

“Well, not me,” she said. “Another of the scouts did. She spotted the obelisk in a forest clearing nearly a day’s journey east of the Outpost. You can’t miss it.”

“I remember that report now,” said Marcus, stroking his chin. “Gemma found the object about four days ago. A twenty-foot-high structure. No one knew what it was, or why it was standing in an empty forest clearing.” He frowned. “Gemma said it was covered with red inscriptions.”

“Red?” I asked, deflating. “You sure the writing was red?”

“Yep,” replied Laura. “I spoke to Gemma yesterday myself. The whole structure was covered in scarlet runes, pulsing so ominously that the poor girl was afraid to approach too closely.”

“Why the long face?” asked Marcus, observing my reaction.

I sighed. “Because red runes mean the dungeon is only suitable for Veteran players, players above level two hundred. For us to enter the dungeon now would be suicide.” Seeing the amused looks the two women directed my way, I scowled. “Even for me,” I muttered.

“Pity,” said Marcus, sounding wistful. “It would have been nice to go on a dungeon dive.” He shook his head regretfully. “But enough daydreaming. What did you want to see me about?”

I glanced at the two sisters. They had gotten to his tent first.

“We’ll wait,” said Cass amiably. “You go ahead.”

Nodding to them in thanks, I followed Marcus into his tent.

“We need to find ore,” I said without preamble.

Halfway through the motion of taking a seat, Marcus paused. “I agree,” he said. “Do you have a lead on where we can find some?”

“No, but searching the mountains to the north is our best chance.”

Marcus shook his head. “Not that I don’t agree with you, but the mountains are too far. We can’t send our scouts more than a day’s journey away. The wilds are too dangerous for them to camp overnight. I won’t ask that of them, not until they—and we—are stronger.”

I frowned. Marcus had a point. “What about the spider warren?”

“What about it?”

“It’s a few hours north of here, and you already have men stationed there, right? If you base your scouts at the warren, could they manage to get to the mountains and back in a day?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Marcus murmured. He pursed his lips as he gave the matter some thought. “It could work,” he pronounced eventually. “Thanks, Jamie. I’ll speak to the commander today. I’m sure she will agree.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Well, that’s all I wanted to see you about.” I swung around to leave.

“Jamie?” Marcus said, causing me to pause. I turned around.

The scout captain shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry to hear about your mum. It was cruel what those bastards did to her. I just wanted to say… I understand.”

A mask of neutrality dropped over my face. Nodding curtly, I ducked out of the tent.

✽✽✽

Since I was in need of solitude, I headed back to my tent.

I decided I would spend the rest of the afternoon training my magic. That way I would escape any further unwanted sympathisers.

I didn’t want to talk about Mum, or even think about events from my last day on Earth, but with the story floating around the camp, I knew sooner or later, everyone was going to want to offer their sympathies.

Why can’t they realise I don’t want to talk about it?

Head bowed and avoiding eye contact with passersby, I hurried to my tent. I had almost reached the sanctuary it offered when the clatter of spears and the thump of marching feet attracted my attention.

I jerked my head up in alarm. A company of soldiers was jogging past me, heading east through the camp. Their faces were grim and they appeared in a hurry. Something is wrong, I thought. Scanning the faces of the spearmen, I recognised one.

“Michael!” I called, waving to attract his attention. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the loggers,” he yelled back, though he didn’t slow down or drop out of formation. “A message just came in: they’re under heavy attack and taken casualties. We’ve been ordered to reinforce their guard company.”

“What sort of attack?” I shouted as the column passed me by and the distance between us opened up.

My gaze tracked the disappearing soldiers for a moment as I considered what to do. The spearmen were travelling too fast for me to keep up with them. I glanced towards the commander’s tent. I could always go ask the old lady what was going on.

Or I could ignore it all and take refuge in my tent.

But damn it, the Outpost needed those tree trunks. And Tara was in the forest with the loggers. She could be in trouble.

Growling in frustration, I spun away from my tent and set off after the spearmen.