The King's Call

"There weren't always dragons in the Valley."

I know this statement rings true, yet the level of venom the words carry contrive it into some sort of curse. As though the cut of the words could carry poison, as if I am supposed to be hurt by the fury that was used to hurdle them.

"I assume you're not going to tell me a child's tale in your current situation?" I smirk glancing at the rope that tugs harsh at his skin, biting at his wrist as he wiggles in his restraints.

"You know I speak truth demon; your kind are despicable. You weren't here before and you shouldn't be now," I recoil, hoping to avoid the spit that flies as he speaks.

I roll my eyes and sigh, "Let's remember who was following who here. I was minding my business; I was kind on my way to the market. I didn't hurt anyone, I even tipped generously. I'm not sure who sent you, or why you would go about following me so messily. It was almost as if you wanted me to catch you, and it was pitiful. Whoever hired you was either petty and poor or rich and careless. Now we could do this easily or we could take a harsher route." I flash my fangs and allow my eyes to slit, reminding him that "my kind" shouldn't be played with. I have little patience for folks like him.

I don't take any joy from the fearful expression that grows as his face pales. I don't feel any remorse either. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to find myself surrounded by people who wish me dead. I have tried to have a kinder approuch, but why would I show the merciless mercy? If you wish to treat them with the decensy they deny you, then you should be prepared for sacrafice. Last time I lost a chip off of my right ear, a quite painful reminder of why force is usually necessary.

"King! The king sent me, not to kill ye, just to rough you up and deliver you. I wasn't even supposed to carry the knife on me but I'm a man of pride. I wanted a prize, proof I took down a dragon," His voice is high and the amount of sweat that's falling off him could fill a horse's trough. Coward, just as I expected. Truly a roach of a man, isn't he?

I can't help but chuckle, "Whatever were you planning to take?"

"W-What?" His breathe stills, somehow his panic deepens lacing his every feature. Panic deeper than any I've ever seen. I am sure he knows the grave he has just dug for himself.

"As your trophy?" This time I am sure to lace my words with enough hatred to fuel an army. I'm sure he wouldn't think twice about killing me if he could figure out how to untie the rope. I am craving an act of justice, and I know his king wouldn't help me enact one.

He gulps, as his chest rises and falls rapidly. His eyes search the cell, frantically looking for anything to aid an escape. Of course, his eyes find nothing. All that sits in this stone cell is me and his single chair. The iron bars hold no exists, at least none that are visible to the naked eye. You'd need an enchantment in order to see the faint blue glow of magic coating the air around us.

"I-uh I didn't mean it in a-"

"I'm going to stop you right there. You have three generous seconds to answer me," His eyes meet mine as I start counting. "One."

"Two."

"Thr-"

"A talon! Or perhaps a wing if you had shifted. I could have also done with an eye. Whatever was the least damaged and most recognizable." His face is fixtated on the cobblestone flooring, his body slumped. He knows what's going to happen as well as I do, as he would probably do the same. I have to tilt his chin up to face me. It's just one swift motion, if I had blinked, I wouldn't have seen it happen. Though I still would have felt the resistance and eventual give against my talon. Of course, his eye isn't recognizable at all. At first he just tenses processing, and then the scream is blood curdling, and if it wasn't for the blue cloud around us, I'm sure someone would have heard it.

"What was that saying your king is so very fond of? Something like a hand for a hand?" I tear a piece of his shirt and hold it against his head, "I think I remember now, isn't something like an eye for an eye?"

Between grunts of pain, I swear I hear him say, "You're a sickness"

I roll my eyes as I tie the cloth around his head,"Don't be bitter just because you didn't manage to take mine. Don't worry about your assignment, I'll be heading to see his majesty in due time. You should be more concerned as whether or not someone will find you with enough time to take you to the cleric. In the meantime, I'm needed elsewhere." Without looking back, I turn on my heel and wave my hand. The wall parts in front of me, as though it was never there. If you were to test it however, it functions just as a normal wall would.

I sigh, looking down at my clothes. My ruffled white shirt is stained red, though it was inexpensive I still find myself cursing. It's going to cost a lot to remove the red that travels up my sleeves. It might be easier to just dye the whole thing red... either way I'm glad I chose not to wear a tailcoat today. I glance up at the rickety stairwell in front of me. It's not much of a climb back up to my cabin, which could be seen as a positive. I don't wish to be alone with my thoughts right now, considering what I have done.

Yet I cannot help but try to plan as I climb. The king wishes to see me, and instead of asking for more information I felt it necessary to punish his lacky. I could always turn around and question him more, but alas the spell I casted upon my basement only last three hours and it took at least one to catch him. Plus, part of me wonders if the king ever intended for him to live. Besides I still need to pack, and head out on the road. I suppose the next stop would have to be Enroncia, in the capital. I wish to be long gone by the time others come looking, if there even are any.

My mind is racing by the time I reach the top steps. I quickly enter my room, routing through racks of clothing. I am sure to choose clothes that are both suitable for winter nights and the king's court, I will be making an appearance after all. This truly leaves around three outfits, all extravagantly embroidered in blues and purples. They'll be a season out of date, but they will do just fine. Perhaps I'll find better arrangements in the capital. With that settled I'm sure to grab clothes more suited for the journey there, and after quickly attempting to wipe the sticky blood off as well as I can, I change. There plain, just brown pants and a green shirt. Farmers clothes, which will be my cover story. A simple farmers boy, leaving home for the first time and seeking adventure. I smile to myself, I do love a good story. Finally I am sure to grab all the rations I can fit into my small pack, which evens out to about 4 weeks worth, and take one last glance around my house. It was one of my more modest homes, made with nothing strong. The small cabin lined by its wood planks, sitting upon barely any land at all. Fit for a simple banking apprentice, which is what I was doing for a while. I knew I'd have to leave eventually, but I wasn't expecting to be called upon so soon. I quite honestly didn't know if I'd ever be called upon again. I glance back around the room, trying to see if I missed anything. When I am sure I have everything I need, I feel the heat rise to my hands.

I exit the house with the smell of smoke coating my lungs.