Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 4, Chapter 2

Winter's Crown: Act 4, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The world shifted back into cohesiveness. Ilyshn’ish’s body tingled almost painfully as her Blindsight remapped the abrupt change in her surroundings.

She felt the ground below her, so she tucked in the wings that she had started to unfurl in panic. She was…indoors? It was a large chamber: roughly as large as the spacious tavern of the Frosty Beard. It lacked furnishings, however, and had no balconies or sunken alcoves. The scent of fresh cedar filled her nostrils; beyond the thinly panelled walls and rounded pillars lining the space, it was bare of any decoration or value.

At first, she thought it a newly-built warehouse – or perhaps some sort of prison – but it lacked the sense of being built for storage, and its framework of cedar had no hope of holding her should she choose to escape. On one end of the chamber, a figure stirred from where it was seated.

“Lady Shalltear,” it asked, “do you require any assistance?”

A deep and venerable-sounding voice. A strong and pleasant voice. To her disappointment, however, she only found an aged Human male approaching them. His measured footfalls echoed lightly around her, and he stopped several metres away.

“As a matter of fact,” Lady Shalltear answered lightly, “there is something you may be able to help me with.”

Ilyshn’ish looked down to the source of the second voice, then realized her claws were still stuck in Lady Shalltear’s torso. She tried flicking her away, but the tiny Vampire wouldn’t budge at all. Ilyshn’ish dug in and pulled mightily; to no avail.

“You – stop that!”

Lady Shalltear’s voice rolled out and snapped through the air at her. Ilyshn’ish flinched and froze.

Why did she stop, dammit! She hated herself at that moment, hated her Frost Dragon nature that compelled her to obey, having experienced firsthand how impossibly strong Lady Shalltear was.

“You’re being rude,” Lady Shalltear scolded her, “just look at what you’re doing to the floor. Really – there isn’t an ounce of propriety or awareness in you.”

Ilyshn’ish focused her attention downwards. Beneath her, there were gashes in the polished floorboards: whole planks splintered and torn away to reveal the soil beneath. The ground appeared to be quite soft…maybe she could quickly burrow away when the chance presented itself.

Lady Shalltear stepped back, and Ilyshn’ish’s claws slipped out of her without any sense of resistance. The exquisite fabrics of her priceless gown showed no change from their pristine state. Ilyshn’ish peered down at the diminutive figure, examining her magical garb for perhaps the twentieth time.

“This new school of yours,” Lady Shalltear said, “this Justice…”

Her voice trailed off, features forming into a complicated expression.

“Justice Dragon Dojo,” the aged Human’s voice filled in for her.

“Yes, that.” Lady Shalltear frowned, “Are you really set on that name? It’s a bit…”

“I believe it to be a deep and meaningful name,” the old man said. “It has a certain ring to it as well, don’t you think?”

The complicated expression did not leave Lady Shalltear’s face.

“I understand why you chose that name,” she said, “but something still seems…well, whatever, it’s your show.”

Lady Shalltear’s hand disappeared into the air, reappearing again with a plain-looking sheet of paper. She cleared her throat before reading it.

“‘Cultivating discipline in spirit, mind and body’ – that’s what your pamphlet says, yes?” Lady Shalltear dangled the paper before her as she spoke, “This one is lacking in discipline, and you appear to be lacking in students.”

“Wait, what?” Ilyshn’ish protested, “Why am I–”

“Who gave you permission to speak?” Lady Shalltear scowled at her, “Do that again and I’ll be nailing your tongue to the city wall.”

Ilyshn’ish’s jaws snapped shut, and her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Why was she stuck under this insanely unreasonable Undead monster?

“Anyways,” Lady Shalltear continued, “she still has a schedule to keep, but, on her days off, she’ll be under your tutelage. Don’t let her escape.”

“Escape, you say…” The old man looked up to Ilyshn’ish, stroking his beard. “This is honestly quite unexpected.”

“Is there some problem?”

“I am on standby to assist with various tasks around the city,” he replied, “so I will be here unless I am called away…exce–”

“Excellent,” Lady Shalltear smiled. “I look forward to the results of her training.”

Lady Shalltear vanished from the hall, disappearing in the same fashion by which they had arrived. Ilyshn’ish shared a long look with the old man, then she turned her head around, examining what appeared to be the entrance of the building just beyond a pair of thick wooden pillars.

“Lady Shalltear’s instructions are that you train under me,” the man said. “I do hope you are not planning on leaving.”

“I have no reason to be here,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Neither did I demand any training.”

“Have you not considered the consequences of displeasing Lady Shalltear?”

“You’re not Lady Shalltear,” Ilyshn’ish informed him. “If she doesn’t like me doing one thing, then I’ll just do something else.”

Once Ilyshn’ish finally thought she figured out how the door worked, she rose onto all fours to leave.

“I believe her instructions were to not allow you to escape.”

Ilyshn’ish felt a presence before her and found the aged Human standing in front of the door. She twisted her head around to look at the head of the hall, then back to the door again. When did he move there?

“Your cooperation would be appreciated,” he said. “This building is relatively fragile.”

The old man stood with a rigid, unassuming posture. Beyond the fact that he seemingly teleported all the way from the head of the hall to its entrance, Ilyshn’ish could not sense how strong he was. He didn’t have the bearing of a magic caster, and she had never witnessed anything move that quickly before. Why was this city full of such ridiculous beings? Ilyshn’ish turned around and lay back down with a long-suffering sigh. The polished floorboards frosted over, and she started doodling upon them with a claw.

The Human reseated himself at the head of the hall.

“Now…why is it that Lady Shalltear would send you to me for instruction?”

“Who knows?”

“I’m sure you must have some idea…”

Why were so many people in this place so insistent on knowing things about her? Why did they even feel entitled to the response that they sought?

“I don’t,” she told him. “I came back from work today and she appeared at my door, accusing me of some wrongdoing.”

The Human studied her at length, and Ilyshn’ish shifted uncomfortably.

“W-what?”

“Perhaps she was dissatisfied with your performance in some way?”

“I don’t think so,” Ilyshn’ish said. “If anything, my performance met with an overwhelmingly positive reception – the substantial earnings that resulted are irrefutable proof of this.”

“Then what is this about having issues with discipline?”

“I said I don’t know! I didn’t ask for any of this!”

Her tail lashed out over the floor, bumping into one of the pillars along the side of the hall. The entire structure shuddered ominously. The old man looked up at the rafters, then down at the hole in the floor.

“How about we start by reining in your emotions?” The old man suggested, “This is something that could use some work, as the condition of the hall might attest to.”

“What insanity are you spouting?” Ilyshn’ish looked down at him incredulously, “Emotions should flow forth, lest one stifles their own craft.”

“Hmm…perhaps I have gotten the wrong idea. Are you something like a Barbarian? I believe I ran into one of those sorts last year: a Brawler type who combined Monk skills and totemic powers…quite noisy, he was.”

“A Barbarian…”

“Indeed,” the old man replied. “He was the disreputable sort, so it came to blows. Fortunately, some help at a crucial moment allowed me to manage a close victory.”

A close victory? Did Humans commonly have such powerful individuals rise from their number? Maybe exploration wasn’t as safe of an idea as she originally thought – at least her home in the Azerlisia range only had Frost Giants at worst, and no one usually came to bother them there.

“Still,” he muttered thoughtfully, “there is always room to better oneself. Even if you are a Barbarian–”

“I’m a Bard!”

Her shout reverberated around the hall. The old man frowned a long frown, falling into a long silence.

“Why do none of you people ever believe me when I say that?” Ilyshn’ish complained.

“If you mean Lady Shalltear and her servants,” the old man said, looking back up at her, “it is probably because they have only considered Dragons as Dragons.”

Of course she was a Dragon. What was that supposed to mean? Ilyshn’ish couldn’t make any sense out of his explanation.

“If this is the case,” he continued, “you may have been left in my care with similar thinking in mind. While I am not exactly a Dragon, perhaps she thought that I would have an easier time instructing you.”

A sort of feverish gleam came from his steely grey eyes, at great odds with his otherwise stony face. Thoughts of Hejinmal came to mind: he wasn’t going to turn her into a pet, was he? To be trained like some sort of animal to do tricks for his petty entertainment…

“I don’t need to learn anything from here,” she told him.

“Dragons seem to be associated with power and wisdom by the people here, but that does not sound like what a wise being would say…are you absolutely certain that there is nothing for you here?”

Ilyshn’ish glowered down at him, then quickly assumed a more neutral expression, just in case the old Human wasn’t as benign as he appeared. He was almost certainly possessed of extraordinary power, yet the way he spoke was annoyingly humble. At least Lady Shalltear played a part deserving of her strength: leaving no question as to the difference between herself and those around her.

Maybe this individual had some weakness in his character that she could exploit – it would certainly explain why he had inexplicably settled on squatting in this unassuming wooden building. If she could learn how so many beings in this city became so absurdly powerful, lingering for a while would be well worth it.

“What do you plan on teaching me?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“Lady Shalltear mentioned something about a lack of discipline, propriety and self-awareness,” the man pointedly looked at the hole in the floor again. “You have some strength, yet it seems that you have not mastered it – perhaps by cultivating discipline in body, you may in turn find balance in mind and spirit.”

“That makes absolutely no sense”.

“Is that so? Hmm…perhaps it would be easier to just start rather than sit around talking about it.” The man rose to his feet. “The Justice Dragon Dojo was originally intended to train Monks. However, since you are a Dragon that fights with their body, there may still be much for you to gain…but first, discipline.”

The Human walked around her, eyeing her in a way that she did not much care for. What could she even learn from this Monk training? Dragons already knew how to fight with their bodies.

“Ah yes,” the man said when he returned to stand in front of her, “you may address me as Master Tian.”

“Tian…”

“Master Tian.” He corrected her, “I don’t believe Lady Shalltear mentioned your name…”

“Shiver.”

“Shiver?” Master Tian raised an eyebrow, “If I’m not mistaken, Dragons should have more substantial names…well, no matter.”

“Can we get this training over with?” She asked, “I have to return to the Dwarf Kingdom at dawn.”

Annoyance filled Ilyshn’ish upon being forced to admit her powerlessness over her situation. What would this ‘discipline’ even achieve to improve her lot? She doubted it would make her strong enough to resist Lady Shalltear.

“At dawn?” Master Tian said, “Perhaps we should just conduct a basic assessment today…how do Bards engage in combat around here, by the way? The fighting kind appears to be quite scarce.”

How could this so-called Master not know how others fought? Doubts started to rise in her mind.

“As far as I have read,” Ilyshn’ish sniffed, “how Humanoid Bards end up can vary between fragile beings that lend their support from a distance to front line combatants. The only Bard I’ve personally witnessed fighting was Frost Giant Skald who wielded a greataxe in direct battle.”

“Hoh...then how do Dragon Bards fight?”

“With my natural weapons? I can’t exactly wield the weapons that Humans can if you haven’t noticed.”

Ilyshn’ish raised a foreleg and worked her talons in mid-air. Being able to manipulate the handle of a weapon with any semblance of finesse was a dubious prospect, at best.

“I believe we Dragons are at an advantage, however,” Ilyshn’ish told Master Tian. “The Bards that I’ve seen locally appear to equip themselves lightly, with perhaps chain shirts, rapiers and bows at best. I have the benefit of my natural armour and weapons, which do not burden me with additional encumbrance and will grow in strength as I do. In just half a millennia, I doubt that any mortal artifice would be able to overcome my natural armament.”

After her explanation, Master Tian stroked his grey beard thoughtfully. With how often he did so, Ilyshn’ish started to become curious about what it felt like. After some time, he stopped and nodded to himself.

“I believe I have a rough idea about your direction now,” he told her. “With what you describe, you would be suited for some sort of Dancer class.”

“We Dragons have ways of our own,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Pursuing mortal paths would rob us of our natural strengths.”

“I see. I was uncertain whether they existed here or not, but, in hindsight, I suppose that they must. The path you pursue is one unique to your kind – a racial prestige class, or a series of them.”

That had a nice ring to it. Ilyshn’ish leaned forward to peer at Master Tian closely.

“You’re not going to try to have me become a Monk like the ones you originally intended on training here?”

“In your case,” he replied, “I believe that it would be a waste. The greatest beings that I know of often combined the strengths of their respective races with classes that were only available to them. It should be an example in this Sorcerous Kingdom, where many peoples of many backgrounds and species can pursue their own unique paths for the greater good.”

She hadn’t a clue about his ‘greater good’, but the rest of what he said made sense to her. Maybe there was some wisdom to be gained here, after all.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Ilyshn’ish rose to her feet, “Let us begin, Master Tian.”