The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

WM [51] Wouldn’t Lose

Kara watched the scene at the fort unfold, her sharp eyes catching every detail as it played out precisely as she and her forces had predicted. From her vantage point in the dense treeline, she observed the steady, methodical movements of the border guards and knights, now scrambling to fortify their position. The Hand had reacted slower than expected to the poison spores, a testament to their distance from the war front and their lack of preparedness for this kind of druidic magic. Kara smirked slightly—this tactic was nothing new in the battlefields of their homeland, but it was far from familiar to those stationed at this border.

All night and throughout the day, her druids had been spreading the spores, allowing them to seep into every crevice of the fort. Invisible to the eye, yet potent, they had taken hold in the bodies of everyone within the area. Some of the weaker soldiers were already showing signs of fatigue, their movements sluggish and erratic, though they likely chalked it up to the stress of the alert. They had no idea the true danger coursing through their veins.

Kara’s expression darkened as she tightened her grip on the bark of the tree she leaned against. Those with weaker constitutions would soon begin dropping dead, their bodies unable to resist the poisonous magic they’d unknowingly ingested. The true deadly nature of the toxin was still dormant, but once the trigger was activated, it would take effect swiftly and lethally. Time was now their enemy. They needed to advance the next phase before the fort’s healers could purify the area.

She glanced over her shoulder at the small group of druids hidden among the foliage. Each of them stood at attention, awaiting her command.

“We’re on borrowed time,” Kara murmured to herself. She steadied herself and spoke up for her men. “Waddell, prepare the stonebreakers. We move to phase two. No delays.” The large man nodded and ran off to his position. “Steffen, report.”

“Commander Kara,” Steffen relayed with his usual calm demeanor. “The spores have reached saturation. We await your signal.”

Kara didn’t know the names of the Hand or even which master they served, but it didn’t matter. She could see the Hand, moving with urgency, her clockwork devices floating ominously by her side. Kara had to admit the Royal Hand was impressive, but she wasn’t invincible. None of them were and she couldn’t wait to give that witch the dagger to the throat she deserved.

In the distance, Kara could hear the faint ring of alarm bells, followed by the hurried shouts of guards and the clanging of weapons. The Hand’s orders were being carried out—too little, too late. Kara’s lips twisted into a grim smile.

***

Bjorn, like everyone else, was taken aback when Joha casually exhaled a cloud of red maya that swirled around both his and Tanisha’s wagons. In an instant, everything but the horses disappeared into whatever maya storage Joha had prepared, the wagons vanishing as if they were never there. Signe, ever composed, didn’t comment on the act, simply gesturing for a few guards to lead the horses to a stable.

“You could do that this whole time?” Tanisha asked in a whisper as they followed Signe.

Joha smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “One day, you will too. But that's it for me—no more room.” 

Bjorn’s senses sharpened as they approached the border fort nestled against the mountainside, where the great wall seamlessly connected to the rugged stone. Upon entering, the true scope of the fort’s defenses became apparent. It wasn’t just a surface-level outpost—this was a fortress burrowed deep into the mountain, its labyrinth of fortified tunnels and chambers designed to withstand sieges. Bjorn could practically taste the heavy enchantments layered into the walls. The air thrummed with durability spells, protection wards, and layers of magic reinforcing the stone. The taste subtly mixed with the ambience of the musky fort as tensions from the impending attack rose.

Despite the protections which were extensive but not all encompassing, Bjorn could still taste the insidious magic of the druids. It seeped into the air, a faint earthy tang that mixed with the musky scent of stone and sweat. It didn’t belong here, not in the walls of this fortress. Bjorn stopped his tongues flicking as he tasted something else. A new magic permeated the halls, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. His gut told him this was more than just an ambient presence; the druids were preparing something big.

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Without hesitation, Tanisha stopped alongside him, her eyes darting between his heads. Sensing her attention, Bjorn took the moment to act. His claws scratched against the stone floor, the enchanted surface resisting him at first, but he managed to etch a message into it with sheer force. New scent. Bad magic.

“Are you sure, Big man?” Tanisha asked, Bjorn nodded all of his heads. “Hand Jet, please take this,” she handed Signe a small vial filled with a clear liquid. “There’s a toxin in the air. It’s some kind of spore or pollen we came into contact with, and this will cleanse it. You’ll want to drink it outside, though—it’ll pull the substance from your body, but it will make you vomit it out.”

“You made a cleansing potion?” Signe asked as she graciously took the bottle and examined the clear liquid inside. “Can you make more, quickly?”

“It is a basic one. I don’t have the ingredients for more than maybe… three more and that is pushing it,” Tanisha said.

“We have several healers here, one of them is a herbalist,” Signe said urgently “When we get to your room, write out a list of what you need.”

“If there is an attack I want to help your people fight.” Adelheid stepped forward. “Put me wherever I will be the most useful. The druids owe me blood.”

“I can’t put you in harm’s way, you are a guest too,” Signe said.

“Actually, I was an indentured servant to these two.” She motioned toward Joha and Tanisha. “Now that I’m here, I’m no longer part of their group. I’m a free woman, and I want to help where I can.”

Signe looked her up and down then to Tanisha and Joha for confirmation.

“She’s right,” Joha said with a nod. “She is not with us anymore and these druids killed members of her pack. Don’t deny her on our account.”

Bjorn felt the unspoken worry flowing through Tanisha’s bond with him. She didn’t speak, but he could sense the concern she had for the wifwolf's safety. Despite this, she remained silent, trusting Adelheid’s decision.

Signe, processing quickly, nodded and flagged down a Royal Knight who was rushing by. “Escort her to Koll,” she instructed. “He’s my second-in-command, to do whatever he says, Adelheid.”

Adelheid’s departure left a lingering sense of finality in the air, but there was no time to dwell on it. Signe led the group to a waiting room, a chamber furnished in a human-like style that seemed to irritate her, as she motioned for them to sit, Tanisha did so happily while Joha stood. Moments later, two elven maidservants entered, quietly placing trays of hors d'oeuvres on the refectory table. The scent of food clashed with the underlying stench of the druidic magic.

“That’s weird?” Failsafe's tone was casual but curious. “Why are they always elves? Hmm.”

“What are you talking about?” Bjorn responded mentally, his attention was drawn toward the two maids arranging the table. “They are just servants, right?”

“Yes, but why are wendigo servants always elves?” Failsafe asked.

Bjorn frowned, letting the thought hang in the air. It wasn’t something he had ever questioned before, but it was true. Most of the servants he had seen had been elves. The Salstars, the Nazem, the First Prince and Princess and even the Isi had a few of them. Even the councilmen noble-wannabes in Birchgrove had an elven assistant yet, he thought nothing of it.

Bjorn watched the two maids. Their sun-kissed skin bore a timeless glow, as they moved with quiet efficiency to set up and arrange the trays of meats and cheeses. Though they weren’t as breathtaking as goblin women—renowned for their unparalleled beauty—they came surprisingly close. Clad in simple, functional robes that draped elegantly over their frames, their black hair was tied back emphasizing their features. 

Their tails, while not as long as Tanisha’s, swayed rhythmically as they worked. Neither maid spoke nor sought acknowledgement, before they left Signe requested pen and paper for Tanisha. Though servants, they carried themselves with the poise of those accustomed to royal halls. It was obvious they had mastered their craft long ago.

“You know what, I never thought about it before,” Bjorn said. “Hasin goblin’s are citizens of Yuhia, but not any elves… Wait no, that is not what we should be focused on. What about the strange magic I am picking up, do you have any idea?” 

“I was analyzing it. Nothing yet,” Failsafe responded. “But I did find something. It is coming from the stone, not the air.”

“What does that mean?” Bjorn asked.

“For now… I don’t have a clue,” Failsafe said. 

Joha settled into a chair, a familiar maya pipe appearing in his hand. He took a deep drag, the smoke curling around him like a ghostly embrace before he released it. 

Joha lowered the pipe. “Now that we’re here, why did the First Princess send you to stop us from leaving?”

Tanisha scooted closer to Joha, her curiosity piqued as she snagged one of the skewered meat and cheese appetizers.

“Honestly, Joha, they kept me in the dark, but as a Hand I do what my master asks of me. I was told that Sif was actually the former daughter of the Salstar house, but even how they found that out is a mystery to me. You changed your appearance and name and left as soon as you got the chance.”

“So, she just wants to talk with Tanisha?” Joha probed.

“No, that wasn’t the case. She was interested in both of you. My orders were to postpone your departure for her arrival, but she made it clear that you both are friends of her faction and by all accounts heroes of Lavi. Although I do suspect Tanisha being a former noble played a vital role in her decision to come to the border. It is not everyday that someone with her former status leaves the country. Although I don’t think it will be an issue.”

One of the elven servants re-entered the room and Signe motioned for her to give the dip pen, inkwell and paper to Tanisha. She quickly wrote down the items she would need and handed the slip to Signe. 

“It is more than I thought it would be,” Signe said as she skimmed the list. “Are you sure this is it?”

“Everything except my fee, but we can discuss that later,” Tanisha replied with a sly smirk.

“Right, merchants. Don’t worry I will guarantee you will be paid,” Signe said with a single chuckle which sounded sweeter than Bjorn expected from the woman. “Please stay here. If you need anything, just call for my maids, Lola and Liana. They’re just outside.” 

In moment’s Signe was gone leaving the trio to their own devices. Tanisha took a couple of the appetizers and separated out some of the meat from cheese for Bjorn to eat. The flavor was perfectly balanced, lightly seasoned and cooked just enough to sear the skin while retaining that vital, rich blood—exactly how wendigo cuisine should be.

“What do you think?” Tanisha asked, breaking the silence.

Joha took another drag of his pipe. “I don’t think she knows why she is here. She’s not lying about that. Whatever they had planned for us is being sidelined by the druids and I don’t know wendigo politics well enough to know if this is alarming.”

Tanisha leaned back, her brow furrowing in thought. “Up until Lavi, I had never met any of the royal family. I’d heard that the First Prince was an angry man, just as likely to kill you as he was to be your best friend. That seemed to be my impression of him, too. The First Princess was always described as esoteric—she and her faction have fought for change to some wendigo traditions in favor of progress. What that progress means… I’m not sure, but she was never said to be as violent as the prince.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice here,” Joha said as he looked around the room. “It is a comfortable looking cell.”

“If you wanted to get out I doubt anyone here could stop us.” Tanisha said with a laugh.

Joha’s expression didn’t mirror her joviality. “Confidence is good, but there are limits to what I can do. Signe is far more dangerous than she lets on, and if there are others here nearly as skilled as she is, we could be trapped.”

“You think she is stronger than you, me and Bjorn?” Tanisha asked.

“I think it’s unwise to discuss who would win in a confrontation when there might be ears listening to every word we say,” Joha pointed out.

Tanisha huffed, undaunted, and fed Bjorn another appetizer. “We wouldn’t lose, would we, Big Man?”