The Chroma Trinity

There weren't always dragons in the valley. The topsoil of the farmlands wasn't always an acid bog. The cypress fields weren't always a wasteland of charcoal and ash. And our city, Teglata, capital of the Republic of Whaica, once a bastion of knowledge and learning, diplomacy and trade, wasn't always frozen in ice. Before Mount Mynquet, the Liquid Peak, exploded, releasing the Chroma Trinity from their primordial prison, this valley was a paradise. Now every orc, human, and elf that lived peacefully in this valley are slaves to three flying tyrants who demand tribute in gold, sacrifice, or blood with each passing season. Only a few of Teglata's citizens dare to fight back. It begs the question: what mere mortal would dare stand up to a single draconic tyrant—let alone three. I hope to find the answer in these caverns.

Kurdak stopped writing and closed his journal. He sat on a small bedroll that provided little comfort from the rocky cavern floor. The sounds of excavation and soldiers moving about echoed through dimly lit space. The air was humid but cool.

The tent flap that partitioned this section of the caverns parted to reveal a one-armed human soldier with a crest on his uniform indicating him as an officer in the Navy of Whaica. His wind-swept hair held streaks of grey despite his youthful face. The quality of the longsword he wore across his back suggested an already illustrious military career. He couldn't have been older than thirty. He approached Kurdak.

"Are you the Bardsword?" he asked.

Kurdak stood. "I am."

"You've been trying to gain an audience with Wuglat?"

"Yes."

"Lieutenant Garman Umbri," he extended his hand. "At your service."

"Kurdak Sax," Kurdak said, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Likewise. Grab that torch and follow me, please." It sounded more like an order than a request. Kurdak pulled the torch from a metal sconce that had been hammered into the cave wall and followed.

"Not many of Orcish blood in your line of work," Umbri said.

"A common misconception. In fact, the Orc tribes of Xabrica have had record-keeping warriors for thousands of years. They're called dulphuum, which roughly translates to 'wisdom keepers.' They practice an oral tradition of retelling history through poems that are accompanied with drums."

"Fascinating," Umbri said. He sounded more polite than earnest.

Kurdak followed the Umbri through the caves where the resistance took shelter. The caverns were torchlit. The ground was uneven. Tarps and tent canvas partitioned sections of the caves and tunnels. Kurdak witnessed field medics and clerics treating the injured. He saw soldiers rationing food and stockpiling a meager amount of weapons. This close, the resistance looked less like a military operation and more like a shanty town.

"Not the romantic scene you were expecting?" Umbri asked.

"Many important works start with humble beginnings," Kurdak said.

"Pretty way of saying we're a breath away from being obliterated."

"The philosopher Minos once wrote that hope is the currency of the underdog."

"Well, it's one we can't afford." Umbri stopped in the cavern passage in front of a heavy tarp that hung in front of an excavated opening in the rock. "Frankly, Mister Sax, most of us are here because dragons took everything from us and we have nothing left. Our fight is fueled by anger. Not hope. Right this way," Umbri said, pulling aside the tarp.

An acrid smell of death and corroding metal hit Kurdak's nose and made his eye water. Kurdak covered his mouth with one hand. He lifted his torch to illuminate the space before him. He saw bodies, or what remained of them, stacked in piles. The flesh, clothing, and armor of the fallen were corroded by black acid.

"This was our latest attempt to take down the black one," Umbri said. "It killed an entire squad with a single breath of acid. We can't bury our fallen because the acid taints the ground, keeps anything from ever growing again. So we store the bodies here, unsure of where else to put them."

"I thought you were taking me to see Wuglat," Kurdak coughed.

"I wanted you to see this first. I know that Bardswords have a way of glorifying war. If you survive to write a book about our small resistance, I want you to get it right."

Kurdak stared into the empty eye sockets of a skull that seemed to look back at him. Its jaw hung open in an eternal scream of fury and torment. Kurdak's blood boiled at the sight.

"Point well taken, Lieutenant."

"Good. Now come. Wuglat is waiting for us."

#

Umbri led Kurdak into an excavated cavern where military personnel and warriors consulted over a map that spanned a broad table. A large orc with dark blue skin and broad tusks with a shaved head presided over the discussion.

"You're sure the dragons haven't been spotted beyond theis mountain pass?" the large Orc asked.

"No, sir," said a soldier in a scout's uniform. "It makes no sense. They don't seem to have an interest in traveling beyond the territories they've marked along here, even though the mountains are rich with gold mines they could claim for their treasure hoards."

"No, it makes perfect sense," said the Orc. "See how the territories they've claimed don't overlap with any other sovereignties? They're careful not to cross borders. They don't want any other countries coming to our aid. If they started crossing into another country's territory, it might elicit a military response. They've singled us out, counting on the fact that no one wants to commit an army to fight a bunch of dragons. It's smart. Strategic."

"That's Wuglat," Lieutenant Umbri said quietly to Kurdak, indicating the large blue Orc. "Pardon the interruption, sir!"

The Orc looked up from the map, noticing Kurdak for the first time. "Let's adjourn until the evening," he said. "Get yourselves some food and rest. You've earned it."

Everyone left the room besides Wuglat, Umbri, and an Elvish woman Kurdak hadn't noticed until now. She had a slight build with purple eyes and platinum blonde hair in a long braid down her back.

"Well met, kin." Wuglat said once the others had left. He stepping around the map table to greet Kurdak. "I'm Wuglat Urgoth."

"Kurdak Sax, Bardsword of the Spectrum Library."

"Yeah, I know. One of the few left, it would seem."

"So, it's true? The Spectrum Library is—" Kurdak didn't have the heart to finish the sentence.

"Frozen in ice. Along with the rest of the upper district. Dalzross, the white dragon was very thorough. How did you survive the attack, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was traveling from Allona Sha, returning to Teglata when the Liquid Peak erupted. I felt the earthquake and saw the ash cloud from a hundred leagues away."

"You didn't think to run?" asked the Elf woman.

Kurdak set his jaw and glared at the Elf. "My first instinct was to help, not hide."

"This is Lathai Ularona," Wuglat said. "She's a sorceress. Don't worry. You'll get used to her. Hopefully."

Lathai scowled.

"Not likely," Kurdak muttered.

Wuglat laughed a belly laugh. No one else found the situation amusing.

"Find and protect the Protagonists of history," Wuglat said, quoting the mission statement of the Bardswords. "Be their Narrator and shield. May their deeds be always remembered. Did I get that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"I've always loved that about Bardswords. Helping others complete quests and be remembered, always putting others first. You're the real heroes!"

"If you say so, sir," Kurdak blushed from the flattery. "In fact, I've been trying endlessly to gain an audience with you. I've been looking for someone to whom I could devote my sword and my pen. I would be honored to make an oath to you to write your story and be your Narrator."

"Ah. Well, isn't that grand," Wuglat crossed his arms and creased his brow as though considering this proposition thoughtfully. Then he put an arm around Kurdak and whispered, "I have a counterproposal."

"Uh, sir?"

"Hear me out, Kurdak. What if your Protagonist was someone else related to the resistance? Someone whose mission was so vital to our success, we'd never make it without her?"

"You don't mean her?"

Lathai scoffed.

"That's right," Wuglat said. "Lathai here is about to embark on a mission of the utmost importance. She'll be your Protagonist, Kurdak."

"Don't look so disappointed," Lathai snarked.

"Wait," Kurdak said. "No one assigns a Protagonist to a Bardsword. That's something Bardswords decides for themselves."

"Be that as it may," Wuglat said. "I need you to do this for me, Kurdak. This is part of a much larger plan. I'm asking you to trust me. What Lathai has to do will make or break the entire resistance! I'm sending her to Acrea to petition King Terric VIII and the Giants for help."

Kurdak's brow creased as he considered this. The country of Acrea, predominantly populated by elves and humans lived in harmony with a nation of Giants within the borders of their country called The Percussion. The Percussion held many ancient grudges against dragons. Kurdak could only imagine the difference an army of Giants would make against the Chroma Trinity.

"That... might work," Kurdak had to admit.

"You see? This could turn the tide for us. Lathai is going to be our emissary, and you will be her sworn Bardsword. Narrator and Protagonist. What do you say, kinsman?"

"This is happening really fast. You want me to swear an oath to this Elf woman when I don't even know the first thing about her?"

"For one thing," Lathai said venomously. "She doesn't like being referred to in third person."

"You're not helping, Lathai," Lieutenant Umbri said.

"Think of this as a trial run, Kurdak," Wuglat said. "If I were to have a Bardsword sworn to me, I'd want to see how well they aided someone else first. This is your chance to prove yourself."

"That's... a fair point," Kurdak nodded slowly. "When does she—I mean, when do you leave on your mission, Lathai?"

"She leaves in the morning," Wuglat said before Lathai could answer.

Kurdak shut his eyes and steeled himself. "If it will make a difference in the resistance, and if you find this arrangement agreeable, Lathai, then I'll do it."

"Wonderful!" Wuglat said. "As you can imagine, Kurdak, I am very busy. Our Lieutenant here will fill you in on the rest. They say Bardswords bring good luck wherever they go. I hope for your sakes that's true."

Wuglat left the room before anyone could protest. Kurdak and Lathai looked at each other. Kurdak felt bewildered. Lathai roll her eyes.

##