Company of the Lynx

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The valley was once a thriving community, a popular trading destination in fact. It was once called “Dura’neth”, which meant valley of opportunity in the ancient tongue. Though, these days it is now referred to as the valley of dragons. The valley was located several days north from the boarder marking the kingdom of Kelborah, and was the shortest way someone could travel north across the boarder into the neighbouring kingdom of Rindaria, but the valley was not safe to pass through any longer, and hadn’t been for the last several winters.

The road that connected Kurineth, the grand city of Kelborah in which seated King Carnos, to the Valley of Dragons was seldom travelled these days, and for good reason. Several winters ago, dragons whom were thought to be extinct, as there had been no recorded sightings for thousands of years, began to slowly populate the regions outside of the valley. Soon after, they began to attack the valley. The great scaled creatures began taking livestock from the valleys farmers and merchants, and then soon after they fed on the humans that were residing there. Naturally, it forced the population to leave the valley as there was only a small handful of people in the world that would dare face such an intimidating creature. Some of them migrated south to Kelborah, and some of them went north to Rindaria. Fewer of course made it to Rindaria, as the dragons were still frequenting the roads and forests between the valley and the towering gates of Rindaria situated on its boarder.

These were no ordinary dragons, either. They were different to the ones in books, which recorded the tales of dragons thousands of years ago. The tales in the historical literature described them to be considered wise, noble, large and powerful. Of course, they were indeed still very large and powerful, but the dragons from the scripts were seldom recorded to attack others unless necessary. A religious movement was once known to have worshipped them, believing them to be Gods and superior to humanity. The dragons could speak in the ancient tongue, and were also known to provide council to Kings and Queens from time to time. Other than that, they kept to themselves mostly, and little was known about where they lived, although some ancient scrolls recorded they lived in a mystical city in the clouds referred to as, “Bel’Torath.”

A man, wearing a dark, studded leather jacket and black cloak, with a longsword sheathed on his back, was walking slowly through the city centre of Kurineth. He was not fond of this city, and was rather annoyed that he was there. However, his pouch was not as heavy as he would usually like, and could use some added weight. The man dressed in black, continued slowly passed the market district. He observed the shouting and negotiating that was taking place around the market stalls between the merchants and their potential customers. He could smell what he thought were fried sweets, mixed with the scent of various herbs which seemed to be emanating from an alchemist's cart. He noticed a plump, bald man clothed in white and grey robes standing on top of a wooden crate, screaming at the top of his voice while turning a bright red in the process, hoping to be heard amongst the busy noise of the marketplace.

"Listen to me, good people of Kurineth!" The bald man cried. "The Goddess shines down upon us and draws her bosom close. We must listen, for her voice is law! Those who oppose this law, are destined for the stocks!"

The man with a sword strapped across his back, begrudgingly moved through the crowd and passed a bard that was singing and strumming his lute. He watched for a moment as the bard winked at the young women listening in admiration of the performance. He continued forward leaving the crowd behind, approaching the royal gardens that lead to the castle of Kurineth, where he was expecting to meet with King Carnos.

“Oi, you. Stop!” A guard cried in a husky voice.

The man in the studded leather jacket stopped and grunted quietly.

“Where do ye think ye going?” The guard continued.

“To speak with your King.” The man dressed in black replied calmly but surely, in a deep tone, while keeping his head lowered.

The guard was armed with a sword and wore steel armour with the symbol of Kelborah, two swords crossed over a rose, embedded on his chest plate. “And just who are ye?” The guard spat.

“I’m Sigarn. Of Rikvald.” The man in black replied, raising his head slightly while looking at the guard.

The guard looked into the silver-coloured eyes of the man standing before him. He noticed the symbol of the Lynx stitched into his studded leather jacket, which represented the mercenary company he had trained with and seemed somewhat annoyed.

“Ye from Rikvald, aye? Wos' a man from Rikvald doing all the way ere? Ye lookin for trouble? Boys, look what we have ere, one of those ere freaks from Rikvald. What a rare sighting this ere is.”

As the guard spoke, and not well at that, four other guards armed with swords and wearing the same armour came out from behind some hedges at the front of the castle gardens and grimaced menacingly.

“I’m not here for trouble, although I can certainly give it to you.” Sigarn's tone was firm and cold. “As I said, I’m here to see the King.”

One of the guards placed his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “Ye won’t be goin anywhere, freak. Kurineth doesn’t need the elp of mercenaries!” He sniffed.

Sigarn sighed. When he woke this morning, he didn’t expect he would have to fight his way to the King, after all it was the King that summoned him there, but this kind of situation was not unusual for him. Sigarn was from Rikvald, which was an area far away from most other settlements in the known world, and there were known to be very few humans from Rikvald left. Perhaps none, other than Sigarn himself.

The people of Rikvald, looked like most other humans. They had the same shaped bodies and features physically, they spoke with an accent, but their biggest differences were their unnatural ability to live almost five times longer than other humans and they had bright, silver-coloured eyes. And because of this, stories were told about the people of Rikvald, that they were dangerous simply because they were different, and the secrets to their long-lasting life were a mystery. Rumours spread about the native people of Rikvald, in which they shared children with demons or gods some thousands of years ago and as a result, the following generations grew closer to immortality. None of this was true of course, but with most rumours and stories passed down amongst common folk, it became true for them. If something was not explainable, the common folk would often find a way to explain it, fact or not.

“It was the King, who in fact asked me to come here. Believe me, I wouldn’t be in this stinking, shit hole of a city if I didn’t have to be.” Responded Sigarn, clearly losing his patience.

The guard in front of him, paused for a moment then spat with detest, followed by crackled, hoarse laughter.

“You ere that boys? This ere Lynx thinks he has an audience with king Carnos!” The other guards laughed with him, and also spat at Sigarns' dark brown, leather boots. All except one, who was looking rather nervous.

"We should let him through...he...he's one of those Lynx mercenaries." The nervous guard spoke softly.

Sigarn brushed his ashen black hair away from his face and sighed again. He knew he could cut down all five of the guards within seconds and with exerting little effort, but this was not something he wished to do on royal grounds.

"I wouldn't want to make a mess of the gardens," he thought.

“I'd advise against trying to stop me. If you get in my way, this morning's sunrise will be the last one you’ll ever see.” He warned, calmly. Fortunately for the guards, a figure came hastily approaching from further within the garden.

“Sigarn, is that you?!” The figure called out in childish amusement.

Sigarn glanced at the figure approaching. The figure was of a slender build, and wore a dark red cloak and tunic, as accustomed to most mages who served the realm of Kelborah. His hair last time Sigarn saw him was blonde, but now it was mostly grey.

“Gerhad. It’s been a while.” Said Sigarn while proceeding to walk further towards him. As he took a few steps passed the guards, he felt a heavy gauntlet rest on the back of his shoulder.

“Don’t take one more step, ye ere me!” The guard ordered.

“You useless vagabonds, leave this man alone! Don’t you have any idea who Sigarn is? He is here at the request of the King, you fools! Not to mention, he is a mercenary who trained with the Company of the Lynx, you would need another five of you to stand a chance.” Shouted Gerhad in annoyance.

The guard, looking stupid and embarrassed, released his hand from Sigarn's shoulder and turned around to let the mercenary proceed to meet with the mage. They shook hands and Gerhad smacked Sigarn on the back.

“You look…exactly the same, dear friend. How many years has it been? Fifteen?” The mage remarked, looking surprised while scratching his sand-grey moustache.

“More or less.” Sigarn replied with what seemed to be a smile. “It’s been a long time, that’s for sure.” They continued walking through the castle gardens, towards the castle doors.

"Even though the rest of this town is a stinking shit hole, the gardens here are kept beautifully," Sigarn thought.

There were quite a number of remarkable plants, bushes, hedges and trees, populated with many different kinds of fascinating coloured birds. Somehow it was rather quiet in the gardens, considering the market district was near. All you could hear in the gardens was the birds singing cheerfully, and the soft rustling of leaves from the trees, dancing in sequence with the wind. Further on you could also hear the trickling of water fountains, that increased in number further into the gardens.

“So how are you, Sigarn? Really?” Gerhad asked while glancing at the mercenary.

Sigarn paused for a moment, then replied. “I’m fine.”

He looked up at the sky, birds chirping and flying in circles freely above him. He noticed the colours of the leaves belonging to the trees, which were a shade of vibrant green and full of life. He paid attention to the wind, gently breathing against his hair.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Gerhad chuckled. “Not at all. It truly is remarkable, the gift of Rikvald. What amazes me is that although you physically look the same, something about you feels like you’ve aged a century. Where have you been all this time?”

“Here and there.” Sigarn replied. Again, feeling the comforting touch of the breeze across his face.

“Well, I’m sure you have been all over the world. I’ve never known you to stay in one place too long, but such is the life of a Lynx I’d imagine. Always looking for the next contract right?” Gerhad said.

“Something like that.” The mercenary replied while looking over at the water fountains, the water glistening like diamonds in the light from the sun.

“Well, it’s good to see you again old friend. We must have some mead later, I’m sure you have many stories to tell after all this time, and there's no shadow of a doubt-"

The mage's tone changed to something slightly lower in volume. "That you've met some interesting women, but for now to the matter at hand. Before we meet with king Carnos, there is something... else I must let you know.” The mage paused before he continued, looking slightly worried.

“You see…”

“Well?” Said Sigarn, while looking at his old friend.

“It’s…It’s her. Eledith has returned. And she’s here, in the castle as we speak. She arrived before sundown yesterday.”

Sigarn looked surprised, and there was a moment of silence before he responded.

“Why here? I thought she was serving the Hand of Mages in the south, in Tamarind? She also must have an audience with the king, why else would she be here?”

“It’s most likely the reason.” Gerhad replied, frowning.

“Have you spoken with her?” Sigarn asked.

“Yes... I have.” Replied the mage, looking down at the cobblestone path as they walked through the gardens.

“And?” The mercenary said with a concerning tone. “Did she say anything?”

“She said, she - she misses you. I think she has never stopped feeling for you, even after fifteen years.”

The mercenary exhaled deeply. “Eledith, she always did have an interesting way of showing her feelings. Damn it, I didn’t expect our paths would cross again. This complicates things.”

They reached the giant doors and entered the castle, whistled through by a large guard who looked like he was almost falling asleep. The ceiling was high, and the castle was decorated with fine paintings on the walls, the torches were burning and there was a buzz of activity in the air. Servants and members of the court were moving about, pretending their contribution to the kingdom meant something. But Sigarn knew, he knew that it was all for appearances. He hated politics and despised most kings. In his opinion, it was all a ruse. He suspected that it was all for self gain, that rarely anyone truely cared about inhabitants of the Kingdom, except what delicacies they would feast on at dinner, the finest mead and wine they would drink, or who they would take to their bed. All the while the commoners suffered from sickness, poverty, death and paid exuberant taxes for the pleasure, while the Kings and members of court whored about and did nothing but argue with each other about what decision to make next. For the good of the kingdom, he would often hear them say.

The old friends continued to walk through the halls of the castle, towards a chamber.

“Carnos is expecting you now. Go through, Sigarn. Afterwards, meet me at The Rose and Thorn, we can talk more later.” Gerhad said while waving his hand towards the private meeting chambers. He bowed his head slightly, rested his hand upon Sigarn’s shoulder and then disappeared down the hall, his crimson cloak trailing behind him.

The mercenary opened the door and saw a woman whose presence was instantly familiar, standing in the centre of the room speaking with Carnos. The king noticed the door opening and peered over the woman’s shoulder. The woman turned her head, and their eyes met. It was Eledith. Sigarn felt a surge of feelings shock through him. Anger, sorrow, but also happiness.

"Somehow, happiness," he thought.

Eledith’s eyes were like a bright blue flame, and her gaze pierced warmly through him like the sun on a hot summer's day. She was as beautiful as he remembered, her slender physic, her womanly attributes still as pleasing as he recalled, even after fifteen years. She also did not look like she had aged much at all, but something in her eyes said otherwise. Her long, white-blonde hair brushed over her shoulders as she turned around to face the mercenary. Eledith was dressed in a dark blue blouse and black, knee-high leather boots. Her leggings were dark brown and skin-tight, which was a favourable sight for Sigarn. She curled her lips and began to speak.

“Sigarn…” It was all she managed to say as her eyes widened, and it was almost inaudible.

She was distracted by the arrival of the mercenary. His face was scarred from many battles but was mesmerising to look at. Behind the scars, if you could be lucky to look deep into his eyes directly, he was rather pleasant to look at. He didn’t have a beard the last time she laid eyes on him, however.

"The beard, it does suit him," she thought.

He was muscular and athletic with an impressive build, which was natural for his profession, but most people saw him as a freak from Rikvald. Others cowered before him like he was some kind of monster, thanks to some ballads which were written about a hired killer known as the Grey Lynx or another referred to the mercenary as the Beast of Rikvald. Eledith however, was not like most people.

The sorceress was lost for a moment, lost within Sigarn’s silver eyes, which almost seemed to glow the longer she stared into them. She told herself that she needed to focus on the reason she was there, which was indeed to speak with Carnos about the dragon problem, but now all she could think about was Sigarn, and memories started to invade her mind about their time together in the past. Especially the times they were both naked. She blushed suddenly, realising she was fantasising about the mercenary while he was standing right in front of her. The awkward silence was at last broken by King Carnos.

The King was tall and had rough facial features and dark brown eyes. He had a rugged sandy-brown beard, his posture resonated with his confidence and he was dressed in the finest silks and cloths. His crown was made from gold, encrusted with an emerald stone, nestled on top of his shaggy, tan coloured hair. Carnos was one of the only Kings Sigarn did not actually despise, as he was a man of his word which seemed to fall fewer in number by each winter.

The mercenary managed to take his eyes away from Eledith, and looked at the King, who's expression was rather serious.

“Sigarn, welcome. I must thank you for coming quickly, please come closer, and close that door behind you. What I’m about to disclose to you, is for Eledith's and your ears alone.”