Dragonslayer, Inc.
Chapter X- The Journey North

The start of my ‘real’ journey was rather inauspicious.

Machen burst into my room at sunrise and dumped a bucketful of water on my head. I snapped up, flailing in my hangover. Laughing, Machen said, “Couldn’t resist yourself, eh, newbie?”

“I’ll show you.” I angrily stumbled toward him.

“Stay back.” He reached for his rapier. “I tried to wake you other ways, but they didn’t work. You must have drank some strong stuff.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Just a reminder: you’re hungover, and I’m armed.” He pushed me onto my bed.

“Just leave me be,” I said, groaning, and he left.

I tried to watch the sun, but it burned my eyes, so I laid on the floor and stuck my head in the shaggy maroon carpet.

The next few hours were some of the worst of my life. I had never been hungover before. I have never been hungover again. The last time I had even a sip of alcohol was when Machen, Steph, and I celebrated the tenth anniversary of this trip with champagne.

While I had never been obsessed with alcohol like some of my classmates, I used to think it was pretty cool. In that, I was not unlike millions of other teenagers across the world. Whenever Mom let me have a sip of wine every holiday, I felt treated.

But if my experience with alcohol before my drunken night had been a peek into the ‘grown-up world’ from a golden balcony, said night was reality lashing me with a belt until I begged for mercy. It was not long before I swore off drinking.

True, compared to what I had gone through already- to say nothing of what I would endure before the end of my journey- a bad hangover wasn’t the end of the world. However, it seemed like the end of the world while I was having it. Bad moment came after bad moment. My head pounded like it’d been hit by Ironwall’s hammer. My guts thrashed like they had been slit by Machen’s rapier.

It felt like the powers that be were trying to rip me asunder.

My hangover eventually ended, but my memory of it did not. Of that, I’m glad, in a strange sort of way. My drunken night was a folly that made me a stronger person in the long run. I wish that I could say the same about a number of other follies I committed.

By the time I felt well enough to leave the hotel, the sky was already blue, the traffic was already zooming, and the Slayers were already raring to go. “Sorry I took so long,” I said. “I had to deal with… issues.”

“Oh, we know what ‘issues’ you had to deal with,” said Steph. “Machen told us. He wasn’t shy.”

“I’m not surprised,” I said flippantly. “Let’s get on with the show.”

“Don’t just brush it off,” said Ironwall. “This is where the journey gets tough. This is where you need to hold yourself accountable. I want you to say out loud that we can trust you, that you’re dependable.”

Indignant, I responded, “Yes, you can trust me. Yes, I am dependable. Yes, I worship the ground you walk on. That good enough? Now where’s Icithan? Still in the city? Did it even come here?” Ironwall continued to glare at me. “Fine. I was stupid, and I’m sorry. I made a mistake, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Very good,” said Ironwall gruffly. “Now as for the dragon, it came here, but it didn’t stay long. It didn’t even cause that much destruction. One corner of the city is in tatters, but that’s it.”

“Where’s it now? How much of a head start does it have?”

“It’s flying north. That’s good for you. You’re from Natura, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your city’s fine for the immediate future.”

My face lit up. Confidently, I said, “How long before we can track it down?”

“Don’t get overexcited. Gesen was our one chance to end this before it dragged out. Dragons are fast creatures when they want to be, this one especially. It could be off the continent by now.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t think it is though. Dragons very rarely leave their continent. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s near Curam.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Curam? The ice mountain?”

“Ice volcano.”

“Do you have any idea how far away that is?”

“Yes, actually, I do.” His stare penetrated my soul. “We’ve a long way to go. Let’s hope we get there before it takes off again.”

It was only then that I began to realize the true scale of our mission. I shivered.

We turned north and started walking. Before we got out of the city, one of the Slayers said, “My feet are killing me. Can’t we take a car?”

Machen harrumphed. “Sure, you can take a car,” he scoffed. “You can take a Dragonslayer car, drive back to Drens, park it, and walk back to Andes. We won’t be needing you.”

In a more diplomatic tone of voice, Ironwall said, “From Gesen, there are five miles traversable northbound road. That’s it. After that, the road snakes back west. Thankfully, there’s a footpath north for us to take, but even that stops before Segrabi Cavern.”

“Wait,” I chimed in. “Isn’t there another way? Segrabi’s a labyrinth.”

Back in Natura, whenever we wanted to tell a jerk to leave us alone, we’d say ‘run to Segrabi’. There were countless stories about adventurers getting lost in the cavern’s many narrow passages and never finding their way out. Back then, I used to believe most of those stories were made up, but I was still terrified. Segrabi was not a place I wanted go.

“What other option do we have?” asked Machen. “We can’t go over the desert. We’d die.”

“It’s not advisable, sure,” said Ironwall. “But it’s the only chance we have. I’ve been there before. There’s an easier way through. I’ll show it to you.” He did not sound as confident as he meant to, but I trusted him.

The last glimpses of the morning faded away as we tromped the rest of the way out of the city. The full breadth of the day hit us, as did an elegant autumnal landscape. Trees danced in the wind, shaking off what was left of their leaves, which lay in somber piles on the ground. There were not a lot a lot of animals to be seen, even as the city skyline faded into the background. The landscape was barren, ravaged by time’s mechanical, maniacal hand.

Fall is my least favorite season. It does not have the bouncy eagerness of spring, the sultry passion of summer, or even the desolate determination of winter. It is watching a once-proud city fade into obscure ruin. It is holding tight as your empire collapses beneath you. It is decay. Winter may be death, but fail is feeling yourself slowly die.

I don’t know when my aversion to fall began. There’s a distinct possibility it may not have existed before this journey. Whatever the case, the brown barrenness of the landscape- aided by hauntingly brisk winds- made a visceral impression on me.

Every day was bleaker than the last. I was glad this leg of the trip was short, even if it didn’t feel like it. When the footpath stopped, I took a deep breath. It was night. I was shivering. It was never this cold in Natura. Steph took pity on me and lent me her jacket. It helped a little. The cold wasn’t the biggest problem I faced anymore: that would be the jagged, lifeless terrain that lay before me.

“Should we set up camp?” I asked.

“Yeah,” added Steph. “We need sleep.”

“Let’s hope it’s warmer tomorrow.”

“My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

“Do you want your jacket back?” I asked.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

I turned my head and saw Ironwall hundreds of feet ahead of us, scrambling over the rocky terrain like it was second nature. “What are you waiting for?” he growled.

“That man is insane,” I grumbled.

“You go on ahead,” shouted Steph to him. “We’re making camp.”

“If you lose me now, I guarantee you’ll never see me again.”

I’m not sure how veracious he was being, but it was an effective threat. Our opinions on Ironwall were mixed, but we were not idiots: we knew we needed him. He was the only one who had any experience whatsoever going on a journey like this.

After sharing angry glances, we reluctantly staggered into the mess that lay before us. Not three steps in, I slipped on a pointed rock and felt backward. While I didn’t land on any pointed rocks, the ground was hard, and my bones bristled with pain.

Grimacing, I said, “Whatever you do, don’t do that.”

“Duly noted,” quipped Machen, pulling me up.

I kept my eyes on the ground until we got to the cavern entrance. There was no way I was going to let myself fall again. It also helped keep me calm. Instead of focusing on how terrifying this chapter of my adventure was or how miserable the conditions were, I focused on not falling.

“I think we should revolt,” said Machen. “There’s only one Ironwall, and there’s twelve of us. We could make him our captive.”

“This is a man who’s slayed more dragons than you ever will,” said Steph. “If we fought him, he’d win.”

“You’re so pessimistic. Why do I still love you?”

“I’m not sure. I’d rather you stop.”

“I’d rather we stop this torturous climb.”

“Even if we did make him our captive, then what? Do you think he’d stay that way? No way. He’d figure out a way to escape. We’d never see him again.”

“Well, I say,” he raised his left foot, “that the reward is worth the risk.” His right foot slid on a gooey substance, and he fell forward into Steph, who then fell sideways into me, and the three of us went plummeting into a bed of jagged rocks.

I am amazed none of us were seriously hurt.

As we were recoiling in pain, we spotted a single, solitary figure below us- far below us- on the end of the footpath. It was the Slayer who complaining about his tired feet back in Gesen. I called down to him, but he didn’t respond.

“Should we drop down and get him?” I asked.

“No,” said Machen. “It’d be a waste of time. If he wants to get up here, he’ll find a way to get up here. If not, he deserves to be left behind.”

“Do you agree, Steph?”

“Some people aren’t cut out for this. I’m not even sure I am, to be honest. If there’s ever a time when I can’t cut it, leave me behind.”

“I’m not going to do that,” said Machen.

“You should. It’s what I want.”

“So we’re not helping him?” I asked, pointing to the Slayer.

“No,” they said, solemnly and at once.

“But isn’t it a rule to leave no Slayer behind? Is that a thing? I don’t know. I skipped training.”

Machen said, “The bottom line of the Slayers has and always will be to defeat dragons at all cost. Keeping that whining punk around would decrease our chances of killing the dragon. It’s that simple.”

But it wasn’t that simple. While I don’t regret not dragging that guy up to the cavern entrance, particularly considering the condition I was in, I can’t help but wonder if I did the right thing. Then again, is there really a right thing to do in situations like this?

Too spent to contemplate questions like this, I got to my feet, helped my fellow Slayers to their feet, and scrambled up to the cavern entrance. I never saw that man again, and I didn’t think about him for a long time.

I wonder if he’s alive. If he is, he made out better than most of the rest of our team. I think he is. People like him tend to stay alive. I wonder what he’s doing.

Maybe he opened a bakery. That wouldn’t surprise me. The few times I heard him talk, he was rambling on about food. I’m not sure if he was a glutton or a wannabe chef, though based on his twig-like body, I’d guess the latter. Maybe he became a dentist. That wouldn’t surprise me either. His teeth were always eerily white. I’d trust him as my dentist. Dentistry doesn’t require long, grueling slogs. Maybe he became a banker. That wouldn’t exactly surprise me, but there’s no reason for me to think that. I just have a hard time coming up with other realistic scenarios for the direction his life could have gone. I didn’t know him that well. I didn’t know him at all really.

When we got to the entrance of the cavern, I stared down Ironwall and said, “Tell me we don’t have to enter the cavern tonight.”

“We’re not entering the cavern tonight.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me. They should name a city after you.” I was hysterical.

After what we had just gone through, the emotion I felt above all others was relief. My anger toward Ironwall faded away, though I wish it hadn’t. There were some key phrases I wish I had shouted at him. However, in the end, it doesn’t matter, just like it didn’t matter then.

What mattered was that I was safe. What mattered was that I was secure. What mattered was that I could sleep and recover from what I thought would be the toughest day of the trip. Tomorrow was going to be better- of that I was certain.

The cold, flat rock slab I laid out on that night felt like a warm, cushy bed. There were no jagged rocks. There were no bizarre gooey substances. There was only us and the dark cape of the sky and the frigid air. I was fine with that.

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