Part I

1

The city of Dragos was deathly silent today, Amrin noted. The high towers of Dragos easily overlooked everything that was happening down below. Yet Amrin saw no signs of city life. The streets were easily empty, except for a few stragglers who wandered in and out of bars. Amrin stood on the high balcony of the Tower of Daggers. The Tower of Daggers was infamous for the fanatic priests, priestesses, sorcerers and sorceresses it held.

Amrin shook at the thought of being called by a priestess, knowing that a priestess would give him an impossible chore to do. Or more likely, punish him for a chore he failed to do. The Draconite unfolded his wings in nervousness. He felt the cold air slam against his eyes from being so high up from the ground.

“Another day,” Amrin said outloud to no one in particular, “Another day of impossible chores. The nobles will make me do the impossible.” He was glad the city was empty as his voice echoed beyond its limits.

2

“Priestess Danasia, your guest has arrived.”

A long, thin bony finger ran along an etched scroll. Danasia was busy trying to concentrate. The guard who arrived to tell her news of the guest apparently didn’t know that. The Draconite guard sighed. “Priestess Danasia, your guest h…” The guard never finished his sentence as he mysteriously began to choke.

Danasia had silently cast a new, unknown spell she learned on the guard. “So it chokes,” she mused. “That will be useful in the future.” The priestess left the guard lying dead on the ground, knowing someone unimportant would take the body away eventually.

The chains, necklaces, and rings Danasia wore on her body were a sign of her hierarchy and potential in Draconite culture. She had full potential before she was even born. Danasia herself didn’t even know the true story of her birth, yet the rumors that surrounded it interested her to no end.

The sorceresses said Danasia exploded from her mother’s womb months before she was expected to be born. The priestesses said that Danasia tore and ate the insides of her mother because she starved for months without nourishment in her mother’s womb. Either way one thing was known: Danasia’s mother was no longer alive after giving “birth.” From that point on, Danasia was brutally destined to become a priestess.

After all those years, learning made her bored. She was still being forced to learn, only this time giving orders as well. A knock on her door broke her concentration once again.

With a wave of her hand, the door slammed open, startling her male guest. “You must be Amrin,” Danasia said without ever looking at the male Draconite. “Ignore the body on the floor. He annoyed me so I silenced him.”

3

Amrin stood dumbfounded in the doorway. The priestess was not even looking at him, not even paying attention to him. He stood and waited, not wanting to know what the female Draconite would do to him like she did to the dead guard.

“You may proceed,” she said uncaringly. Cautiously, Amrin stepped into the priestess’s chambers. With a wave of her hand, the door slammed shut. Slowly, the priestess gathered her thoughts and stood up out of her chair. “You may speak commoner,” the priestess commanded. In Draconite culture, if you were a commoner speaking to a noble or high noble you would wait for the noble’s command to speak. Amrin knew that all too well.

“You were the one who summoned me?” Amrin asked. He held the hilt of his dagger, not knowing how this would play out. Even then Amrin knew that he was no match for a priestess who knew magic. The priestess finally showed most of the anterior of her body as she turned around. She was beautiful by any Draconite terms but also fairly dangerous and unpredictable. She wore a revealing gown that went down past her knees and was exposing her skin as it split down the middle to her navel. Her nostrils and ears were pierced with earrings. She even wore lightweight jewelry on her delicate wings. Simple, polite jewelry was worn around her neck and silver bracelets adorned her wrists.

“I am priestess Danasia. You were called for a…mission, I suppose that is what you call it. Whether you like it or not, you were called by the high nobles to do it. I am to go with you to make sure you accomplish that order.”

Amrin’s wings began to tremble slightly. His fingers silently glided on the hilt of his dagger. Instead of unsheathing it, he let go of the hilt. “And if I refuse?” he asked calmly.

The priestess shrugged. “I do not know,” she replied almost honestly. “I could kill you quickly or give you the ultimate punishment. You could be chained to a wall. I have supreme order to kill you if you refuse or disobey.”

There was a long silence after that. Amrin rolled his shoulders nervously. He shifted to a different position, his bone-teeth necklace clinking and clanking against his chest.

“And what is this mission?”

4

Danasia began toying with her neck chains. The commoner was boring her to death. He was attractive in his own way, but shy and cowardly. He carried no armor and only wore a long, wide loin cloth to cover his genitals. He had a 14 inch long dagger sheathed in its scabbard. Along his neck, he wore a toothed necklace. He wasn’t too skinny and did have some muscle. She could sense his nervousness before he ever came into her chambers. Danasia gathered her thoughts, remembering everything the high nobles had told her.

“We are to go to the Skeletal Grounds via the Divide and Beron Roads. There are rumors that the cult leader is murdering high noble politicians. There have been many disappearances and kidnappings of important politicians. It is unknown of who is really doing this, but there have been sightings. The Draconites who’ve supposedly done these kidnappings were reported to be wearing black cloaks with a skeletal symbol on them. Those are the marks of the Skeletal Ground followers.

“The Skeletal cult leader has been nothing but trouble the last few decades. The high nobles consider him and his followers a rebel colony. Two decades ago the cult leader, named Skarish, led an “army” of followers into the city of Ablar. He burned a quarter of the city down, yet the high nobles could never catch him. They thought Skarish perished in the city fires and riots. However, there have been rumors over the years that he has survived and returned to the Skeletal Grounds.”

Danasia sighed. She put her leg up against the wall she was leaning on. “Questions?” she asked, closing her eyes. The male commoner stood silently, probably thinking Danasia thought. The commoner took a slow, steady breath.

“Why was I chosen? Another noble would carry out a high noble’s orders, not a commoner.” Danasia was surprised by the commoner’s questions.

“Well for one, your family was known for carrying out assassinations on rebels. From what I’ve been told, your mother was famous for assassinating the Syn rebel leader named Alesan. She carried out several perfect assassinations on wanted rebels. Your father also carried out assassinations on lesser rebel leaders. Didn’t you know that?” The commoner merely gave a blank stare. She saw some beauty in the male’s amber orbs.

5

Amrin hated the fact that he would be called for an assassination. “I am no assassin,” he stressed. “I am a loner looking for a simple job. I’m an explorer, not a damned murderer.” Amrin dropped his head, avoiding Danasia’s crimson red eyes. He heard the priestess break into utter laughter. The nobles laughed at him whenever he told them he was not an assassin. The priestess swung her tail to the side, amused by Amrin’s behavior.

“You dare speak to me, a priestess of the Tower of Daggers, this way? I can promise that you will enjoy a slow death chained to a wall. You can stay with the cannibals who are born without a brain. They would want nothing more than to rip you limb from limb. And if that doesn’t kill you, the rats feasting on your insides will.”

Amrin’s scowl turned into a stoic look at the mention of the priestess’s threat. He hated the fact she would be traveling with him. But Amrin, being a commoner, had no political or social power against a superior.

“I will dismiss your unruly behavior. Now leave, and take the unlucky guard with you. Feed him to the rats or throw him into the sewer pits for all I care. You are now not allowed to speak to me unless told.”

6

After the commoner departed, Danasia went back to her studies. She sensed this would be a difficult journey, let alone even be accomplishable by a lowly commoner and a stubborn priestess. She didn’t want to approach the Skeletal Grounds, the most sacrilegious area in all of Rynas.

The Skeletal cult worshipped ancient, unknown deities. Whenever a follower would die, they would be thrown into a bone pile that circled around the entire temple complex. There the body would be left to rot until all that remained was the bones themselves. Thousands of bodies littered the temple complex, and it produced the most grotesque stench in the Draconite country of Rynas. Very few Dragosians ever visited the Skeletal Grounds for fear that the followers would murder them. The murdered bodies always ended up in the pile to please the unknown deities.

Danasia gave up her concentration completely. Thinking of the eerie cult always made her cringe. No, she was not looking forward to this journey at all. A shiver trailed down her spine at the thought of being thrown into the bone pile.

7

Amrin didn’t bother to dispose of the guard’s body. He decided to leave it on the balcony of the Tower. He never felt more alone in his life than now. He had been born in Dragos yet he felt like a wanderer all his life. Amrin wasn’t even sure if he was going to get paid for the mission or if he was going to get paid at all.

Dragos was still silent as Amrin backtracked in the dark alleys of the city. The sky turned black within minutes and soon rain began pouring down into the city roads. Amrin accepted mother nature’s tears as he slowly prodded along the dark alleyways. Soon he got to an inn that was known for only costing 2 Silvers to stay for one night. The room Amrin received was cramped with only a straw bed. It was still very clean though and was free of rats and fleas.

Amrin laid down flat on the uncomfortable straw bed. Many thoughts ran through his mind, mostly of the things that happened to him during the day. He thought of Danasia for some odd reason. Thinking of his first encounter with her made him stop thinking about his starvation for the night.

Part II

1

“I’m looking for a mercenary.” Somehow, Danasia ended up in one of the cruelest bars of the city. She wanted an experienced fighter, not trusting the anti-social assassin named Amrin. Danasia would pay the highest for the best mercenary, and mercenaries were always up for hire.

The barkeeper was a chubby Draconite who was in his prime, a simple commoner trying to run a business to survive. Danasia had given him perimission to speak, but he said nothing yet.

“Well,” said the easygoing barkeeper. “Practically all my customers here are low-life mercenaries. I’m sure you’ll find one, but they’re too drunk to remember their own names. You might find some Amazons in here as well.”

The barkeeper grew an amused look. “What in all hell is a noble doing at a bar looking for putrid mercenaries?” Danasia ignored the barkeeper’s remark, not wanting to start a bar riot. Anything was capable of happening when nearly all the customers were drunk and unpredictable.

Most of the mercenaries in the bar were male and carried crude weapons. None of them even looked experienced, didn’t even look like they could put up a fight. There was one mercenary who caught Danasia’s eye. He was probably a young Draconite and he carried a short sword in its scabbard. Along his back was a lightweight battle hammer that could be accessed easily in an emergency. He wore a light chainmail shirt, the only armor he wore on his entire body. Danasia made the direct approach.

The young mercenary caught Danasia coming towards him. “Are you looking for a job?” Danasia asked stubbornly. She was about to regret why she asked. The young mercenary was clearly drunk as he uncomfortably touched Danasia’s waist.

“You’re a pretty…” That was all the mercenary could get out of his mouth before Danasia slammed her elbow into his face. The male flung out of his chair from the force of the blow. Danasia was in a vile temper, and would’ve killed the male if she could. The mercenary groaned, wiping the blood from his face. When he tried to stand on his feet, he fell down again.

Danasia violently heaved the mercenary to his feet and stared straight into his miserable eyes. “Are you any good? If you’re not, I’m going to have to kill you.” The mercenary didn’t back down from Danasia’s challenge. He clearly saw the threat, Danasia thought. A wicked smile came to her dragon-like face.

The mercenary nodded. “I-I am…g-good,” the mercenary stuttered. “My name is…name is…” The mercenary put a finger to his snout. “Oh! I am known as T-T-Tirinis. My name is…is Tirinis!” Danasia’s point got right across to the drunken mercenary.

“Accompany me to the Skeletal Grounds,” Danasia whispered into the mercenary’s ear, “and I will give you 10,000 Silvers.” Tirinis’s eyes bulged and his jaw dropped down in bewilderment. Danasia gave another smile, knowing she had immediately won the stupid commoner over.

“Ten? T-T-Ten th-thousand?” Tirinis huffed. “Ten thousand Silvers.” Danasia violently shook the mercenary’s shoulders. “But if you fail,” stressed Danasia. “Then you will get nothing. You have to accompany me and my guest safely to and from the Skeletal Grounds. Your job is to only come along and protect us. You need to know nothing of our plans. Understood?”

Tirinis nodded his head several times. “Now,” concluded Danasia. “You will meet us at the Tower of Daggers in two days. Just tell the nobles that I sent for you. Oh, I forgot to mention my name.” She put her mouth close to the mercenary’s ear once again. “My name is Danasia,” she said quietly. Tirinis licked his mouth and repeated her name whisperingly. At that moment, Danasia pushed the mercenary away. “Do not speak to me anymore. And don’t ever, ever touch me again.”

2

Amrin had nothing better to do on another rainy day in Dragos. He was not looking forward to walking on this journey or looking forward to it at all. Horses were rare in Rynas, not even used by warriors or high nobles themselves. There were stables that existed on the outskirts of Dragos but the horses were often overpriced and kept in bad condition.

Eventually, Amrin got to the destination he was looking for. At the farthest rural area in Dragos, an old stable stood where it had been built a century before. Amrin could hear the snorts and whinnying of the horses that were housed in the stable. The stable didn’t smell too bad, but was still strong enough to keep most customers away. When Amrin approached the stable closer, he could see the horses were relatively skinny. Some wore grim looks on their faces while others were oblivious in nature. Sooner or later, the stable owner came out to greet his first customer in a long time.

“You looking for a horse?” the stable owner said. “I’ve got plenty of these filthy animals for sale. I’ve got warhorses, baggage horses, traveling horses and work horses. That brown stallion over there is one of the prized Gladian breeds that humans use in their wars. Gladian breeds are prized in this part of the country. Since you look like an honest chap, I’ll give him to you for only 1,000 Silvers. That truly is a great deal since he is originally 5,000 Silvers. It is a great bargain that is rarely seen anywhere else.”

Amrin exhaled loudly, a sign of his impatience. “I don’t even have that much. I only have 50 Silvers. Even then I wouldn’t buy your “prized” warhorse. He doesn’t even look capable of traveling or working.” Amrin searched around the stable with his eyes. “I’ll give you 40 Silvers for that black mare, the skinny one.”

The stable owner laughed uncontrollably. It was a hideous laugh that shook Amrin’s very soul. “Forty Silvers for that healthy mare? I think not. I’ll at least ask for 700 Silvers, also a bargain price.” The stable owner cleared his throat and waited for Amrin’s answer. Amrin was out of ideas. I was never good at haggling, he thought.

“Then I will give you all 50 Silvers and if you give me the mare, I will return her to you for free the next time I am in Dragos. When I return her, she will be fattened up from grazing and her coat will shine to its fullest with the sun. I will even recommend you to the nobles.” That was the best Amrin could come up with on the spot. But to Amrin, that offer didn’t sound fair. He wasn’t about to say that to the stable owner.

“I will take your offer,” agreed the stable owner, “If you pay me 200 Silvers upon the mare’s return.” Amrin tightened his fists. He had no clue as to how he would get the 200 Silvers. But he nodded anyway at the stable owner’s request. He could always lie of course and never return the mare.

“How do you ride a horse?” Amrin asked. The stable owner merely shrugged. “I don’t ride these damned animals. Think of a way to do it yourself. I raise them and sell them; you do the riding.”

3

Danasia continued to wait for the mercenary Tirinis and the assassin Amrin. The high nobles had supported the supplies for free, most of which was food. How the three of them would carry the food Danasia didn’t know. What she did know was that both of the commoners would carry the supplies; a noble was not a laborer.

The young mercenary appeared outside the Tower late in the afternoon, boasting no supplies except his short sword, war hammer, and the clothes that he wore. Tirinis did not amuse Danasia whatsoever. He was dirty when he was drunk or sober, but he would never touch Danasia again after his experience with her at the bar.

“Where is that damned Amrin?” Danasia was frustrated and growing impatient every hour the assassin didn’t show up. Tirinis never said a word, not ever given the command to speak. Danasia had nothing to do to pass the time by.

“Tirinis, you will carry the supplies. Gather them so we are ready to leave when Amrin appears. Do it now!” Tirinis did as told, not wanting to set off Danasia’s rising anger. Soon Amrin was spotted entering the Tower’s vicinity. Danasia was shocked at what the assassin brought with him.

“What the hell is this creature? Speak now, assassin.” Amrin seemed to be in no mood to argue. Danasia could sense her increasing anger that Amrin had set off, bringing a black creature with him for the gods only knew what. “It is a horse, a black mare,” replied Amrin. “I bought her at a stable, hoping that we wouldn’t have to walk to the Skeletal Grounds. But since I don’t know how to ride a horse, I guess she will carry our food. That is, if we have any food.” Apparently Amrin didn’t notice Tirinis gathering the supplies. Danasia caught both of the commoners staring at each other. She found that rather comical.

Tirinis didn’t stay quiet. “Horses are very expensive,” he noted. “And how did you get the Silvers for that?”

Amrin didn’t move but merely shrugged his shoulders. “I managed a “bargain” but I will have to give the mare back once we return to Dragos with her. I’ll also have to give the stable owner 200 Silvers. I don’t have that…” Danasia was growing furious. “Enough!” she interrupted. “You two can chatter on the road. Tie the supplies up on the beast so we can get going.” Danasia waved both of the commoners off, until she noticed Amrin grabbing her arm. She would have struck him had it not been for the fact he let go of her arm as soon as he grabbed it.

“Who is he?” demanded Amrin. “You said that only you and I would be going.” Danasia rubbed her arm as if she had been badly injured. “He is someone I hired for extra protection. He does not need to know of our plans. Besides, I am not the one paying him.” Danasia saw the startled look on the assassin’s face.

“Paid?” gasped Amrin. “You never said I would get paid. I need the money more than anyone. If anyone should be getting paid, it should be me. I sleep in shit every night…and I am no assassin as you claimed when we first met.” Danasia was surprised by the commoner’s stand. She almost felt sorry for him and even then, she never felt sorry for any inferior. Had he been a stranger she would’ve killed him with magic on the spot.

“I see,” Danasia mused. Her chains rattled as she swayed back and forth out of boredom. Truly, the commoner did not impress her. Tirinis seemed to be listening in on the conversation yet said nothing. “The mare is packed,” he announced. Amrin opened his mouth as if to say something more. But it was lost on his tongue before he could even speak what he had in mind.

“Do not ever touch me,” Danasia threatened. “Do not speak anymore.” Danasia said nothing more and walked right past Amrin. Deep down in her mind, she felt some type of lost emotion. She didn’t know what that emotion was.