Path of Dragons

Book 2: Chapter 2: A Great Loss

Carmen hammered away at the hunk of steel, steadily shaping it until she finally achieved her goal – a utilitarian longsword. The result was nothing impressive, though she hoped that once she was finished, it would at least reach Crude grade so she could practice her enchanting. Either way, it would be a useful piece, if only by virtue of her skill. Even her failures were head and shoulders above what anything the other Blacksmiths in Easton could forge.

She was busy inspecting the cooling blade for any major flaws when she felt someone standing behind her. It was a trick she’d learned from her habit of constantly immersing herself in Ethera; she could tell when someone was nearby, just by the way the ambient Ethera swirled around them. Still, she didn’t turn as she said, “If you’re here to put in an order, just know that I’m booked for at least three weeks solid. Longer, probably. So, I don’t know when I’ll be able to get to you.”

“It’s not about that,” came an unfamiliar voice. Carmen turned to see an older woman she didn’t recognize. The newcomer carried a wicked-looking morningstar strapped to her waist, but otherwise had a middle-aged, matronly look about her. The ethnicity was wrong, but still, the woman reminded Carmen of her abuela.

“Don’t know you,” Carmen said, crossing the forge to a barrel full of clean water. She dipped her hands in, then splashed some of it on her face. “If you’re not here to hire me, then what do you want?”

“It’s the…uh…council,” the woman said. “They want to see you.”

“Yeah? Well, they can wait,” she responded with no small degree of impatience. She’d long since grown weary of their petty back and forth, and it had grown even worse since Alyssa and Roman had gone to conquer the tower. If they were self-serving before, then Carmen really didn’t know a strong enough word to categorize their selfishness in Roman’s absence. Hopefully, when the Chief returned, he would set them straight.

Or maybe Alyssa would.

“It’s important,” the older woman stated.

Carmen sighed. “What’s your name?”

“Well, Verin, do you know what I do?” she asked.

“You’re a crafter.”

“Right. But do you know what that really means? Every day, our hunters encounter stronger creatures. Monsters, really. Even the normal animals have gotten powerful enough to give a classer a good fight. Do you know why so many of them have survived?” she asked.

“Skill?”

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Carmen chuckled. “Partially,” she admitted. “But I can say with no false modesty that it’s at least partially because of me. And people like me. I spend my days crafting armor and weapons so that the people who keep us safe can fight the things that, with every passing day, get a bit better at trying to kill us. So, with all due respect – I don’t come running when those assholes in the council whistle for me.”

She frowned. “Roman is there,” she said.

“What?”

“Roman is back from the tower.”

Carmen broke into a wide grin. It was the wonderful news she’d been waiting to hear, though if Alyssa hadn’t come straight to find her, then that meant something had gone wrong. Had they failed in conquering the tower? Was there some other threat? Probably the latter, given the pattern since the apocalypse had started.

“Well, why didn’t you lead with that, then? Come on. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

Verin looked like she wanted to respond, but then clearly thought better of it. Not that Carmen much cared. She was already striding toward the door before she even finished her sentence. After passing through and into the street, she paused only long enough to ensure that Verin had followed. Then, once she’d locked her door – Easton was a fairly orderly place, but thievery was still a problem – she strode off through the settlement and towards the five-story government building. Once, it had been a two-story police station, but as the little settlement had grown into a proper city, the Architects and Builders had worked overtime to add more space. A good thing, too, because with a population that had climbed into the high five digit range, it took quite a lot of people to ensure that everything ran smoothly.

Still, as Carmen joined the throng of pedestrians – they still hadn’t figured out how to get anything but electric cars to work, and even those had been deemed useless because of how inconvenient they were – she barely noticed the city’s growth. Once, it had only been a collection of ramshackle huts, but now, the structures were strong and sturdy as well as architecturally interesting. Even the streets had been paved with cobblestones, giving Easton an atmosphere that hovered between that of a modern city and something out of the Victorian era.

The people themselves wore an eclectic mixture of contemporary clothing from before Earth had been touched by the World Tree and the latest from the city’s Tailors. There were people wearing blue jeans walking side-by-side with those clad in elaborate robes. Some people, it seemed, had taken the magical nature of their transformed world as an excuse to indulge some eclectic stylistic choices.

There were plenty of people wearing armor, as well. Some were Guards, as denoted by the standard-issue chainmail and sky-blue sashes of their offices, but others were the people tasked with patrolling the outskirts for threats to the city. Carmen had been on a few such hunts, so she recognized the necessity of armor, even if it was a bit mismatched, as was the case with those men and women.

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Gradually, the pair of women made their way to the government building. There had been talk about renaming it, but getting the council to agree on anything was a tall order. Especially without Roman’s steady hand on the tiller. Carmen didn’t particularly like the man, but she could at least acknowledge that he was necessary for Easton’s survival. Without his influence, most of the people within the town’s walls would long since have died.

A few times, Carmen’s escort tried to make conversation, but she quickly realized that it was a useless endeavor. It wasn’t that Carmen was antisocial – quite the contrary – but she was too eager to see her wife to let even idle conversation slow them down.

Soon enough, Carmen found herself walking through the government building’s familiar front doors. The entire first floor, which had once played host to the entire police force, had been completely remodeled into a grand lobby with the Branch of the World Tree standing at its center.

Dirk, the Envoy of the World Tree, stood silent sentry as a line of people accessed the Branch’s features. With a thought, he could ban anyone who displeased him, and in the Branch’s vicinity, he wielded significant physical power. So, no one even considered stepping a single toe out of line.

Carmen gave him a nod, which he returned. Once, he’d been a fairly timid man, but the power had gone to his head. Now, he had cultivated an inflated sense of self-importance. Fortunately, Carmen rarely had reason to rub shoulders with the likes of him, so his faults were easily ignored.

After crossing through the lobby, Carmen and her morningstar-wielding escort approached the stairs that would lead them to the Council Chambers on the top floor. There, she hoped to be reunited with her triumphant wife. Still, even with her excitement distracting her, Carmen couldn’t help but be mildly distracted by the questions circling her mind.

But she didn’t have to suffer for much longer before, at last, they reached the pair of carved, wooden double doors that would lead to the chambers. Surprisingly, the woman didn’t hesitate before pushing them open and stepping inside. Carmen followed.

“Carmen,” said Roman, pushing himself to his feet. He’d been sitting at the head of a polished oak table, so he was still more than a dozen feet away. “Sit. There’s much we need to discuss.”

“Why are you talking like that?” she asked, noting his formal tone as she looked from one face to another. All the normal culprits were there, and they all wore forlorn expressions. There were two newcomers there, though. One was a short, slender man with a pair of shortswords strapped to his back, while the other was the stoic, matronly Verin who’d brought her to the Council Chambers.

For a moment, Carmen was confused until she saw something familiar leaning against the table. That’s when it hit her. “W-what…what…what happened?”

She had crafted the Spear of the Dragon Lancer herself, and while she had created even more powerful weapons since, it held a special place in her heart. Because it had been a gift meant to keep her wife safe. If it was here, then…

“Oh, God…”

She sank to her knees, already having come to the only logical conclusion. Alyssa was gone. She was dead.

Suddenly, Roman was by her side, his hand on her back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…I tried to save her.”

“How?” she managed, looking up at him with tearful eyes.

Roman knelt beside her and said, “She died a hero.”

“That’s not what I asked. How did she die? I want the details.”

Carmen hadn’t forgotten the warning she’d passed on to Alyssa before she left for the tower. Back then, she’d told Alyssa to watch out for Roman, largely because they’d always had such differing views on how to run Easton.

He shook his head. “I know how you’re feeling, Carmen. I’ve been where you are right now. It doesn’t feel real, does it? Sometimes, I still look up and expect Trish to walk through the door. It’s been more than a year, and…and I still haven’t gotten over it.”

Carmen clenched her fists, then repeated her question, “How did Alyssa die?”

It came out as more of a growl, and the tension in the room rose to unprecedented heights. Still, Roman didn’t react negatively, even if there were more than a couple of hands subtly creeping towards weapons.

Then, he told her a pretty story about Alyssa sacrificing herself for the greater good. He described the circumstances, explaining how Alyssa had been speared through the back by a creature that cancelled her self-buffs while draining her attributes. She was defenseless, and she died before Verin – apparently, that was the matronly woman’s name – could heal her.

All of it was perfectly believable. Alyssa had certainly been the type to sacrifice herself so her teammates could survive. Carmen had seen it play out on dozens of occasions, and she knew it was why Alyssa was so popular amongst most of the city’s residents. They knew a hero when they saw one.

But in the back of her mind, Carmen felt suspicion take root. After all, Alyssa’s death was nothing but a benefit for Roman. He’d wrung everything he could out of her, and now that the city seemed capable of defending itself, she was no longer necessary.

Or maybe that was just misplaced anger.

She knew herself well enough to recognize that she just wanted someone to blame. The reality was that the world was an incredibly dangerous place, and it was only a matter of time before Alyssa ran into something capable of killing her. Before, it had been easy to think of her as something akin to a chosen one. Everything had come so naturally to her.

But now she was gone.

Carmen knelt there for some indeterminate time, her eyes unseeing until, at last, she blinked. By that point, all the others – except for that slim man with the twin blades – were gone. Idly, Carmen recognized that he had a high-quality dagger at his waist. It was at least Simple grade. Maybe even Complex, which was unheard-of. Though with it in its sheath, she couldn’t use Tradesman’s Appraisal to get any more information.

That small distraction was enough to pull her out of her stupor, and she shook her head before saying, “Thank you for telling me.”

She climbed to her feet, then grabbed the Spear of the Dragon Lancer. For a moment, Roman looked as if he was going to object. After all, most of the time, such a weapon would have gone to the city’s armory to be assigned to someone it might benefit. But her challenging glare must have told Roman that, if he wanted to confiscate it, he would have to pry it free of her cold, dead fingers. He clearly didn’t want to go down that road.

“Where are you going?” he asked when she turned to leave the room.

“First, I’m going to get Miggy and tell him that his mom’s dead,” she stated, the last word coming out ragged and barely audible. “Then, I’m going to Juan Carlos’s bar so I can get well and truly drunk. You’re welcome to join.”

“I…the funeral arrangements are –”

“I’ll take care of it,” Carmen stated. “And I’ll let you know where to show up. She always considered you a friend.”

“I did too.”

Then, without another word, Carmen turned and left the room, trying to figure out how she was going to tell Miguel the news.