Chapter Text
Vernworth was full of life.
Just watching the people bustling around, flitting from stall to stall, chatting with friends and neighbours. It was such a sharp contrast to the tranquillity of the mountains and forests of upper Vermund, all the noise was giving Wren a slight headache, he was fascinated by everything around him but it was just too loud.
If he was feeling overwhelmed then Wren could only imagine how Asharae was feeling.
Actually, he didn’t need to imagine.
He could just look at her and know instantly what she was feeling.
At some point, Asharae had pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and audibly groaned whenever anyone would get to close to her. Wren whispered for Nug to act as a shield between Asharae and the people around them, just carefully shooing them back or standing between them and the female elf if they got too close. Having Nug act this way was easing some of his sister’s anxiety.
On the plus side, they were able to locate a blacksmith and sell the monster parts they gathered. The two blacksmiths, Bjorn and Roderick were welcoming enough and didn’t turn their noses up at Wren and Asharae being elves, they paid a fair price for the items that were offered to them and even offered advice to visit the vocation guild. That was something Lennart recommended they do as well!
So that was their next stop and while there the guild handler, a young man by the name of Klaus, greeted them with a warm welcome but explained the guild was facing its own issues. They could not sign newcomers up because their latest shipment of great swords and sorcerer staffs had been stolen by a band of goblins, this was a great blow to the guild as many make users often seek to learn the ways of the ways of the sorcerer and fighters would expand their skills into the path of the warrior.
When asked why the guards had done nothing to track down the goblins and retrieve the stolen goods, Klaus was told that the they had better things to do than chase after pests in the countryside and he would have to live with it.
It didn’t take much more for Wren to offer his assistance.
Klaus was caught off guard by this.
He thought he would have to turn away more guild hopefuls until they either got another shipment or some generous soul managed to find the equipment and hand it in. What he wasn’t expecting was this stranger to offer to do it out of the blue.
Klaus tried to warned Wren off.
Saying that while goblins were small and weak, when they were in large groups they could be a deadly force and seeing someone loose their life was not worth a great sword or sorcerer staff but Wren reassure him that he had experience in dealing with goblins. He knew better than to charge into one of their camps and just hope for the best. Klaus still seemed apprehensive but ended up accepting the offer of help, he took Wren’s map and marked down where he suspected the goblins were hiding. An abandoned mine to the west, the perfect place for goblins to hide out.
He also promised there would be payment for their efforts and in the mean time, wherever services the guild could offer even with their limited resources, Wren and his group could have them.
“Not even a full day in Vernworth and you already offer our services.” Asharae muttered and Wren rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be like that, dear sister. We both know tis the right thing to do, not only will it benefit us in the future but think of young adventurers it could aid also.”
“I am thinking more about those goblins and what their numbers could be.” She retorted.
“You enjoy killing goblins.”
Asharae stuck her tongue out at her brother, making him chuckle. She didn’t deny it. “The sun is beginning to set, we should make our way to the tavern and meet the captain.” She suggested, the market place was slowly beginning to close for the night and the number of people in the square was becoming less and less. The only merchants that looked like they were still open with the blacksmiths and local alchemist.
As well as the welcoming light coming from the tavern and sound of people chattering. It sounded lively.
And Wren worried for Asharae’s anxiety when they eventually went there.
“Will you be able okay?” Wren asked. “I cannot speak to the number of people that will be there but I know you are far from comfortable around humans, if you like, myself and Nug could attend this meeting with captain Brant alone?” He thought about suggesting Asharae rent them a room at the inn but decided against it. A night in an actual bed was more than appealing but if Asharae wasn’t comfortable staying inside the city walls then they could leave Vernworth and find somewhere safe just outside the walls to spend the night.
The younger elf lowered her hood and turned her gaze towards the tavern. “I will attend the meeting along side you.” She declared. “I am not stranger to that place, just give me a flagon or three of ale and I will be fine.”
So get Asharae a little tipsy and it will ease her anxiety?
Wren hoped she wasn’t an angry drunk.
-
The tavern was just as lively as Wren suspected it would be.
Tables were full of chattering people and even some sentinels, a bard was on a small stage playing a jaunty tune on her fiddle so some of the patrons would dance with their friends and loved ones. Seeing the joy on their faces, it brought a happy grin to Wren’s. This was why he chose to stay and help captain Brant, so these people could continue their lives because how could anyone with a conscious stand aside and let innocent lives be manipulated by a tyrant only for their suffering to be either made worse or even ended by the dragon.
Wren didn’t know these people and he didn’t need them to know him.
He didn’t need praise and glory.
And he certainly didn’t need a throne.
All the elf wanted in life was to see people happy.
“Your Majesty!” Captain Brant’s deep voice called out, snapping Wren out of his pleasant thoughts. He was never going to get use to being called ‘Your Majesty’. Brant was resting against the bar surface as a beastren woman busied herself serving drinks. “Your timing is impeccable. I had just thought to call for you.”
“Ah, forgive our tardiness. Time got away from us while exploring this fine city.” Wren explained, he didn’t want to tell the man about their job to help the vocation guild just yet. Not until he heard what plans Brant had come up with to over throw Disa. For all he knew, the captain could have a list of task waiting for them and any side jobs that Wren wanted to help with might be forced to the side.
Perhaps he could talk with Brant and make him understand that doing things that weren’t directly linked to the Queen Regent would be good for the kingdom as a whole. “My good lady?” Wren wave at the beastren tavern keeper. “Four flagons of ale for myself and my three companions, if you may?”
“Right away, ser! I shall have them brought to your table.” The women replied and headed over to a casket to get their drinks.
Table?
But they hadn’t-
“Over here. ‘Tis not a matter for prying ears. Pray, let us speak out here.” Brant motioned for the elven siblings to follow him to the open aired section of the tavern, a quiet area, indeed. The trio followed him and pretended to make conversation until their drinks were brought, Asharae wasted no time in taking a big gulp of her after leading Nug to a bench that was pushed to the wall of the balcony.
Nug stared down at her drink in wonder. She glanced at Asharae who was more interested in her drink and then back at Wren, her wide eyes silently asking for permission. Wren nodded, a kind smile on his face, and Nug grinned back. That was all the approval she needed, so following Asharae’s example, the pawn took a big mouthful of ale and instantly started coughing as it burned her throat. Asharae rubbed the pawn’s back to ease the coughing while Wren sent Brant an apologetic look. “First time drinking ale.” He explained.
Brant chuckled and even offered a handkerchief to Asharae help clean the spittle and ale dripping down Nug’s chin. “No harm done. But we must get to business.” He began, resting his fore arms on the table; Wren gave the man his full attention. “As I informed you when we last spoke, the palace is filled with the Queen Regent’s sycophants. Should Disa denounce Your Majesty as a false Arisen, few would elect to doubt her.”
Figures it wouldn’t be as easy as just walking through the palace gates, showing his scarred chest and lack of heart to prove he was the Arisen. One would think it would be, not many people could survive without a beating heart but if the nobility would deny solid proof just to stay on the Queen Regent’s good side, then they were going to need a lot of evidence to prove her lies were in fact lies.
“Yet if we are to prove your identity, I believe there is no occasion more suitable than the coronation.”
“I thought that gathering the night my brother was abducted was the coronation?” Asharae suddenly asked, earning the attention of the captain and her brother. Brant turned and sighed. “It was intended to be but when His Majesty collapsed, we could not proceed.”
Wait? Wren collapsed?
And there was a coronation before hand?
No one told him this!
“Disa used that night as an excuse to delay the coronation further so that the Sovran – that is, the false Arisen who was now in place – could convalesce in the palace, but the date has been set now.”
So they really were on borrowed time but if Brant had faith that there was enough time to gather evidence then Wren was listen and do what he could. Brant turned back to Wren so he could continue explaining his plan. “The central players in the court ought all be in attendance. ‘Twould be a fine opportunity to display Your Majesty’s power.” Okay, maybe they would be storming the palace gates and making a grand display but what did Brant mean by a ‘display of power’? Wren was no mage nor sorcerer, magick was his sister’s talent and being Arisen didn’t give him any special powers except maybe his situational immortality but Wren was not going to take an arrow to the chest just to prove he was the Arisen. No ser!
“None would be able to deny that you are the true Arisen then.” Brant stated but then his proud expression changed to one of worry. “There is a problem, however: entry to such an event is limited to a chosen few.”
He should have seen that coming. “I doubt it will be as simple as obtaining the invitations of others on the guest list.” Wren commented, not that he wanted to steal an invitation but he could see that gleam in Asharae’s eye. She was thinking about stealing one so best to stamp out that idea before it took on a life of its own.
The captain shook his head and Wren frowned. “Only select members of the nobility and citizens who have contributed greatly to Vermund’s continued prosperity will be granted entry.”
So all the guests would be well known and even if they managed to sneak Wren and Asharae’s name on the list, having no one know them would be a massive danger instead of a benefit. “If Your Majesty is to be counted among them, you will need to attend to a number of tasks.”
It would be that easy to get a genuine invite?
That seemed too easy.
“All we have to do is a few tasks and we will be invited? Pray, forgive me, captain but that sounds too good to be true.” Wren commented, he was struggling to believe that a few good deeds would earn them a place at the event of the century. “I understand this must be much to take in, especially given the curse’s effect on you mind but I assure you, Your Majesty. Public opinion is key to success.” Brant explained, he understood Wren’s skeptical view and where their positions reversed, the captain would second guess this plan too but during the years of Disa’s reign, Brant had been doing something that the Queen Regent hadn’t. He was listening to the people.
And the people of Vermund were far from pleased with how she had been ruling their country.
“Public opinion of the Queen Regent has ne’er been positive. And after the death of the previous consul, it only grew worse.” Of course, no one could openly mock Disa out of fear that their lively hoods would be ruined but whispers travelled well. “Should you have the support of the people, be they farmers, tradesmen and nobility alike, the Queen Regent will not be able to deny your claim without fear of revolt.”
He wouldn’t say it out loud but if Disa’s reign was able to continue, even if she would ruling behind the scenes with either the false Sovran or her own son on the throne, the people of Vermund would turn against her in a violent way. And should it come to that, Brant would not be able to raise his blade to a civilian, he would be forced to stand aside and let the people inflict their own former of justice.
If that happened…
Brant could already smell the copper scent of blood.
Wren could see the horror in his eyes. Despite Disa’s crime, Brant was an honourable man and while he believed she deserved to be punished, he had no desire to see her die.
And in spite of what she stole from him, neither did Wren.
“What would you have me do?”
“The citizenry have called upon my soldiers to cull monsters that plague the land. I daresay ‘twould be a fine contribution were you to accomplish these tasks unaided.”
Monster culling, sell sword work…
Honestly, easy work too but it still felt too simple. No doubt the captain was offering the less stressful job first before pushing the elves into the more political ones, killing monsters was more straight forward that negotiating, after all. And if they were doing this then they could also tackle that job for the vocation guild, win-win. “Very well. I believe cutting down a few monsters is within our power.” Wren mused and sipped his ale, he almost forgot that he even had it.
Brant’s face lit up with a smile but the elf could see the corners of his mouth twitch with the desire to grin. “I thank you, Your Majesty. There are three locales that have seen significant trouble of late. The first is Trevo Mine, to the north west. We’ve had reports of goblins swarming in great numbers?”
Trevo Mine?
That was the place that Klaus said the goblin thieves took his shipment. Wasn’t that lucky?
“Next is Harve Village, west of Vernworth. I believe soldiers have already been dispatched to cull an infestation of saurians there.”
‘Why must it be saurians?’ He didn’t to fight saurians, he liked saurians. But if the giants lizards of this land insisted on forcing Wren’s hand then he would have no choice but the end them, if soldiers were already on their way to Harve then that meant Wren could take his time with that request. Even if they couldn’t locate the nest, surely trained guards could handle a few saurians while the elves dealt with more urgent matters.
“Finally, there is a call for someone to locate a group of soldiers tasked with delivering freight. They were last seen crossing the second bridge on the eastern edge of Vermund.”
Okay, that one sounded more serious.
Klaus and the Trevo Mine goblins would have to wait a little longer if there was a travelling group of soldiers missing. As he marked down these locations on his map, Wren was startled when a moderately sized coin purse was dropped on it. He looked between the purse and captain, expecting it to have been a mistake and maybe this was payment for the private table and drinks but Brant pushed the purse towards Wren. “What aid I can give you is limited but ‘twould not sit right if I were to let you and Ser Asharae sleep in the wilds.” The man says.
“And Nug.” Asharae interrupted.
“Ah, yes. And Ser Nug.” Brant corrected. “Pray, use the coin to rent a room at the inn. You will need your rest for what is to come.”
They sure would...
-
The inn was so expensive!
Why was it so expensive?!
Two thousand gold just for one night and no promises of a meal or bath for any of them?
Maybe they should have gone back to the forest and camp there, at least the bandits were honest about wanting to rob you blind.
Still, Wren didn’t complain. He just seethed internally.
They did have three warm, clean beds for the night and a roof over their head. The group stripped off their flimsy leather armour, Nug needing that little extra help with her plated armour after the ale made her a little tipsy, she wasn’t tired so the brother and sister sat her on a bed and let Nug count out what little coin they had left. It gave her something to focus her hazy mind on until she fell asleep.
“I do not understand.” Nug suddenly says, pausing in her counting.
Wren looked up from his journal. He was sat stretched out on his bed, legs crossed at his ankles and back resting against the headboard; he was taking advantage of this quiet moment to relive his lost memories. “What don’t you understand, dear Nug?” He asked gently.
The pawn looked so confused. “At the encampment, when we rested their the innkeeper had no depended nearly as much gold for our stay. I have counted it many times now and even with the addition of Ser Asharae, it should not cost us two thousand gold to spend the night here.” She explained and threw her arms in the air for emphasis. “I do not understand why the change!”
“Tis because we are two elves and a pawn.” Asharae interrupted.
Her brother gave her a disapproving stare.
Asharae had been quiet for most of the evening, not because she was sulking. She just didn’t feel like talking. At one point after removing and packing away her leather armour, Asharae excused herself to go to the well in the side streets of Vernworth so she could take a bucket of water and give herself a quick wash down, seeing as they couldn’t afford a bath. Wren made a mental note to wake up early and take Nug to the well so they could have a wash too.
When Asharae came back, her long black hair still damp, she sat on her own bed and focused on brushing the knots from her hair. She had been near silent the entire time until now.
And now her words had confused Nug even further.
“But...” Nug began, her eyes down cast as she tried to process the words. “Why would an inn keeper expect more coin from an elf than a human? Do elves use another coin? Is the value different?”
“Humans look down on those who are not like them. They even look down on other humans should they not meet their impossible standards.” Asharae answered, her tone was cold as ice. There was no love lost between her and humans.
“But-”
“Ignore her words, Nug.” Wren cut in. “What she says... tis not that simple.” Humans did hold an air of arrogance around them, even when in the excavation site Wren noticed that beastren pawns were treated worse than the human pawns. Granted all the pawns were treated terribly but there were just some things that he couldn’t forget. And maybe he was being quick to judge but Asharae held a strong dislike of humans, whether that animosity extended to other beastren or elves, Wren had yet to see.
He didn’t think so, she was cautious of Nug at first but warmed up to her. Was that just because Nug was his pawn?
Either way he didn’t like it and he wanted to make a start on easing that aggression.
“Honey sweet for your thoughts?”
Asharae’s brush clattered to the floor and Nug sprang up, scattering coins all over her bed and a few on the floor.
“W-What did you say?”
Was there something wrong with Wren’s word choice? It felt like the right way to start a conversation but Asharae had turned so pale, she looked like she saw a ghost. So picking up the fallen hair brush, Wren rested is journal and moved to sit behind his sister and began to brush her hair for her. It felt familiar.
A silence then filled the room.
It only being broken by the sound of Nug picking up the scattered coins and the brush moving through Asharae’s soft hair.
“I just... You look as though you have aught on your mind, and not just tonight. Since the sentinels came searching for me in Melve, you have appeared troubled. It must sound so foolish to say you are troubled given aught that has happened in the past months, we have both experienced hardship these past months but I do not remember my struggles.”
“Memory loss does not lessen your pain, brother.”
“Neither does it make yours less important.”
Asharae huffed and turned around. “But you- Where is your scale?”
His scale?
Wren looked down at the spot on his chest where Asharae was staring, his tunic was open enough so it was showing his scar but that wasn’t the focus of his sister’s attention, the same place where Wren knew there was a missing weight. But a scale? “My scale?” He repeated and then a horrible pain burst in his head, it was just like the sensation he felt in Melve when he remembered that fateful night. Was this because of what Asharae said?
He had to know.
So holding his head in his free hand, Wren pressed through the pain and asked. “What do mean ‘my scale’?”
There was a mix of hesitation and anger on Asharae’s face, she reached out and took her brush but instead of brushing her hair, she twisted it in her hands. Knuckles turning white from how tight her grip was. “I had thought you still had it, ‘twas your most treasured possession. You ne’er took it off, even when we slept. Gods, I was sure you even bathed wearing it!” She rambled but none of it made any sense, Wren’s most valued possession was a scale? A scale of what? A saurian? No, that made no sense.
Saurian scales were easy to come by for any seasoned adventurer.
And Asharae must have seen the confusion on her brother’s face and she decided to be more clear with her words, letting go of the brush so she could reach out and touch the spot where the scale use to hang. Just below where his scar was. “T’was a drake scale.”
The air caught in Wren’s throat.
“A-A drake?”
“It has been in our family for generations. Tis said that one of our ancestors were part of the founding of our village, worn by the head of the family at that time.” There was a fondness in Asharae’s voice as she spoke about their family, it was the closest to happy that Wren had seen his sister. “The scale was passed down o’er the years, always to the eldest child. I still remember the day mother gave it to you.”
She looked up with a wobbly, half smile. “You were so proud, I was proud of you ... To be so connected to the tales of the dragon and Arisen that mother told us growing up. You wanted naught more that prove you were worthy of becoming the next head of our family.”
His family... Wren’s hand came up to rest over Asharae’s and held it there. The reminder of his family, an aged but well taken care of red scale that had been fashioned into an amulet, that was what was missing.
“I don’t... When I awoke I had naught on me, only rags and a splitting headache. The scale was gone.” Someone must have taken it and Wren had no idea who.
It could have been someone in Vernworth palace, a sentinel or even a servant who thought such a rare treasure would be worth a lot of gold or was it taken by that foreman, Fiska, he was an openly greedy man who thought that a living Medusa made a grand trophy. Lifting a drake scale from an unconscious man would not be beneath him. Anyone could have taken it or maybe it was just lost... it could be anywhere between Vernworth and the excavation site.
There was no way that they would ever be able to find it again.
And Asharae realised that too when her face fell into despair then anger. “Just another thing lost it seems...” She growled out, taking her hand back and turning away. It took a moment for Wren to process her words but when he did, he reached out and gently took Asharae’s shoulders, turning her so he could look her in the eye. “I am not lost, sister.” He said, his tone strong and unwavering. “I am right here. I am very aware that you do not agree with my recent choices and mayhap I am being selfish asking you this but I do need you, I need you to guide me through this kingdom because I am so lost and scared.”
Scared was putting it mildly, Wren was terrified of what was to come.
He hoped aiding Brant would not result in anyone being hurt.
He hoped they would find a cure for his curse so he could be the man he once was, the brother that Asharae had been so proud of when they were children.
And he hoped that when they faced the dragon, it would not end in his death.
“I suppose I am not being a very good big brother right now, am I?” He said with an empty chuckle. “I am meant to be the one that keeps you safe and here I am asking you...” Wren lets out a huff, feeling disappointed in himself, he brushed the hair from Asharae’s face and gave her forehead a gentle kiss. “Time for bed. I shall not ramble on any more, sleep well, dear sister.”
Asharae remained stock still as she watched her brother leave her side, bid Nug a ‘good night’ and then climb into his own bed after tucking his journal safely into his pack. She was lost for words as she reflected not only on the last two days but three months and everything she had been feeling.
From the moment the dragon chose Wren as Arisen, all Asharae had been focusing on what she wanted. She wanted to leave Vermund, forget this forced bond with the dragon and go home so they could live the rest of their lives in peace.
Not once had she considered what Wren wanted even when he told her again and again. As soon as she learned about this curse, Asharae had been acting like her brother was gone and the person she had been travelling with for the past two days was little more than a stranger who occasionally said things that Wren would but that wasn’t the case.
The curse wasn’t making Wren want to help captain Brant.
That was just Wren being who he was, a selfless and caring person.
It was the same person who put himself in harms way in Melve to protect Ulrika.
Her big brother wasn’t gone, he was just lost in the fog.
But he wasn’t alone.
Asharae was with him.
And she was going to stop being selfish. If Wren wanted to help bring the Queen Regent to justice for the crimes she committed against the people of Vermund then Asharae would help him do that. Honestly, part of Asharae wanted to make the woman suffer just as much as she made her brother. And if he was going to fight the dragon then Asharae would be there with right on the battlefield, she wouldn’t freeze up a second time and she would stop bring up going home. It would happen eventually but Wren had been right, they had bigger things to worry about now.
They would go home eventually but first... best to take it one day at a time and look after each other as best they could.
Wren was close to falling into a deep sleep when he felt the straw stuffed mattress dip. His deep blue eyes shot open to see Asharae crawling into bed with him, cuddling up to his side and face buried in his shoulder as she held tightly to the older elf’s tunic. There were no words, instead Wren wrapped his arms around his sister and slowly rubbed his hand in circles on Asharae’s back.
Then the space behind him dipped and two long fur covered arms were able to wind effortless around both elves as an equally furry body pressed up against Wren’s back. “Nug? Hrrk!” Wren choked out when the pawn held them both a little too tight, as nuzzling her cheek against her master’s soft hair. “N-Nug?” He tried again when Asharae grunted at the force of the lanky pawn.
“Remember that conversation we had about being gentle?”
“Oh... Apologies, Master...” Nug whispered and lessened her grip but still snuggled close.
Wren let out a small, tired laugh. “No harm done, my dear. No harm at all.”