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Lightmoon 4, 2604 R.M. — Holtod, Holtod, Litheran
DERITH SYLVARADO SLUMPED to his knees and sighed. “Did you see that? I actually beat him!” No answer. He looked around. The others were nowhere in sight. “Searin? Que-Que?” No answer. He looked behind a large rock where the others were standing huddled in a circle. He put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on? I was awesome back there! Weren’t you watching?”
Searin turned to face him. He held the Pìncc Laod in his hand. The words were different than before.
“Beware the Dry Lake,” Searin translated.
Silver stared at the words on the paper for a moment, then turned and banged his head on the wall. “Dang riddles!” he shouted, his voice carrying all the way to the valley below.
********
THE SUN WAS SETTING as they returned to the village. They were greeted with cheers from the men, sobs from the women, and hugs from the little children. The mayor came out of the crowd, same as last time.
“Thank you so much. Thanks to you, Derith Sylvarado, we are able to live in peace again.” He turned to the people, “Today we have been saved from the creature that plagued our land. I hereby dedicate this day, the fourth day of summer, to the hero. We shall call it the Feast of The Slime-Slayer.” Another cheer erupted and Silver’s cheeks blushed revealing his famed blue mark.
“Speech!” a member of the crowd yelled. Other cheers followed, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” they chanted.
Silver faced the citizens of Holtod. “People who live at the foot of Mount Tuom’nér,” he began, though still unsure of what he was going to say. “This is the second time I have been recognized for slaying a shape-shifter.” The crowd started to murmur. “Yes, Carht of Mount Tuom’nér was a Ladrian, as many of you know I am.” Those who did not know began to chatter louder. “As I said, this was the second time I’ve been recognized for slaying ‘evil.’ This is also the second time I’ve let people draw false conclusions about my heroism.
“I didn’t kill Carht. I forced him to make a promise to leave this place forever. He will abide by the terms of our duel, or he will die. That is the way of the Ladrian. I’m no hero. I was simply smart enough to know how to make a deal, and tough enough to force it in my favor. Don’t praise me, but, please be softer in your judgments of the Ladrian. You’ve seen how some are good, and some are evil, just like Humans. I beg you not to discriminate against them simply for being different than you. Judge them on their merits and not on their marks.”
He stepped back again. Another round of applause came and the people began to chant again, “Silver! Silver! Silver!”
“That was beautiful, hero,” the mayor said. “We do not care if you killed the beast. A hero is not measured by the number of monsters he kills, or the number of Cities he saves. He is remembered by his willingness and ability to serve others.”
“I’ll remember that, sir,” Silver said with a grin.
“Feel free to take anything you need. Everything is free for you and your friends here in Holtod.” The mayor’s face was sincere and full of gratitude. Normally, Silver would be inclined to reject such an offer on principle, but after the battle he fought, he was ready for a little hero worship.
********
THEY STAYED THE NIGHT in the now very empty inn. The people of the City were all outside partying in the streets. Everyone was shouting and laughing. The innkeeper let them stay for free, and even drew a bath for each of them. Derith Sylvarado politely declined, instead letting Que-Que use his tub.
As he watched the happy bunny swim laps, he began to dream. This village was just the start. He would work his way into every village and every city. He would rout from the minds and hearts of all men their hatred toward other races. The world would become a place where people were not seen as different but special, each race bringing their own unique qualities and strengths to play in their new world order. Tairyth would be deposed and a new government would be established, one of peace and equality.
He began to dream about his own place in that world order. One day, his image would be in every home. His name would be well known and well loved. People would bow and cheer as he passed. Even the family of the tyrant king would bow to him. He would be buried in a shrine of his own, declared a saint, or even...
A loud croak awoke Silver from his reverie. In the tub, Que-Que had grabbed a large bullfrog with his fangs. It had hopped through the window, looking for warmth as the summer sun set. Silver backed away from the tub and made no move to approach again until Que-Que had completely devoured the amphibian.
These dreams aren’t natural, he realized. He did not want power, political or otherwise. He would join the Ladrian and rally their aid to make the world right. Then, once his dreams of peace were fulfilled, he would quietly slip away and spend the rest of his life as he had always wanted: returning to his life of tranquility in Maresde. It was why he fought: to restore order to the world and to himself.
After the Queserion’s bath, Silver went to bed. He slept soundly with dreams of a better world bouncing through his head.
********
DERITH SYLVARADO WAS so exhausted, he did not awaken until well past noon the next day. When he woke up, the citizens were bustling to fill his and his companions’ packs with every supply imaginable. They packed food to last them an entire month even if they were not eating sparingly. They added hygiene supplies such as soap and washcloths, matches, and other miscellaneous goods. They packed new clothes to exchange for the old ones Searin and Niri were wearing. When Silver put on his pack, he was amazed to find it not much heavier than before.
As they reached the city gate again, he asked several of the men walking with the mayor whether they knew of the Dry Lake. “No,” they responded. “There is a large lake on the other side of Mount Tuom’nér. It might be dry since we didn’t get much rain this Spring, but I don’t know. Nobody goes that close to Avántar nowadays. The King’s not exactly the most likable fellow.”
Silver thanked them again for their hospitality then he and his friends set out to recommence their journey.
********
THEY WERE BARELY AT the peak of Tuom’nér by nightfall. Derith Sylvarado lit a fire, and they spent the time rummaging through some of the odds and ends the happy denizens of Holtod had packed. Silver found a quiver of fresh arrows for Thendor’il, appropriately colored in the exact same hue of scarlet. Searin, likewise, found polish for his blade and a sharpening stone, which he put to use immediately on the naturally dull sword. They found a suit of light mail for both Searin and Niri. They fit well and were hard enough to block a forceful blow from Destrál. The last, hidden item was a long, pink ribbon tagged “For the bunny”. Silver doubled over with laughter. He was about to tie it to Que-Que’s neck when Niri scolded him.
Que-Que told me to warn you that, if you put that on him, he shall melt your hand off in such a way you will never be able to heal it again.
Silver saw it as an idle threat and tied the ribbon around the Queserion’s neck anyway. The creature growled and bore his white fangs.
“I don’t know, Que-Que. I think it looks good on you,” Silver said. Niri’s mind let out a loud buzzing noise Silver had learned from painful experience over the last few months was the Gil’an interpretation of a cackle. The bunny made no move to attack.
They retired into their big, new tent, and Silver slipped off into sleep.
********
BY NOON THE NEXT DAY, they could see a thick line of light brown: the beach of a lakeside.
By mid-afternoon, they stood on the beach and looked across the hot sand. Where a lake should have been was a dusty, sandy depression reaching as far as the eye could see. Grains of sand blew in every direction. With eagle eyes, Derith Sylvarado could see the lake bed stretch on for almost half a mile. Bones of fish littered the ground. The lake had clearly been filled once, perhaps even recently.
Near their position were a series of irrigation trenches, surrounded by a barren field. I can’t believe people live here, Silver thought.
“We should get away from here as fast as we possibly can,” Searin said. “The map says ‘Beware the Dry Lake’. If we hurry, we can walk around it by nightfall.”
Silver did not hear him. He simply stared at the irrigation trenches. People must have starved here for years, growing just enough food to keep them alive, but not healthy. He truly felt sorry for them. “Searin, I’m going to fill this lake,” he declared solemnly.
Searin nodded absent-mindedly, observing the scene. “Whatever.”
“Thanks,” Silver smiled. He was shocked at how easily Searin was letting him do things nowadays. At the start of their journey, Searin would never have considered letting him fight Carht, much less transform into a legendary creature and fill a lake. He stretched his arms and prepared to take to the sky.
Searin shook his head, realizing what he had said. “Wait, scratch that. Not ‘whatever’. We have to follow the Pìncc Laod. If it says ‘Beware the Dry Lake,’ we’d better beware the Dry Lake.”
Silver cracked his neck, leaped up, and with a flash transformed into a long, shiny, Neptune Dragon. Searin yelled at him from the ground below, keeping his voice at his monotone timbre. “Silver, stop. You can’t possibly do it. It’s impossible. Most Ladrian can’t even transform into dragons, much less use their powers. You just aren’t ready to manage that kind of strength. Not on this scale. It would destroy you from the inside.”
Searin was sprayed with a blast of icy-cold water. Silver was determined to save these people.
Silver swiveled in the air. He opened his massive mouth and water pumped from his jaws. Dust spread in every direction as it hit the ground. I’m gonna do this, and you can’t stop me, Searin, he thought.
After holding the stream for a few seconds, he began to see the truth in Searin’s words. The effort was exhausting. Still, Silver never gave up when he committed to something.
Two hours of excruciating pain passed. He began to feel lightheaded and his vision blurred. Searin stood below, continuing to nag at him, slowly wearing on his morale. The water rose so slowly, he could not see any difference from one minute to the next. Silver’s body began to rise and fall. He knew he could not hold out much longer. His vision went black and he fainted into the crystal water below.
He was fully unconscious for only a few seconds. Before he struck the icy surf, Silver’s eyes flickered open partially and he caught a glimpse of himself in the water. Long and sleek, he looked into his own blue eyes, the slatted eyes of a great Neptune Dragon. He felt the courage, the determination flow through him upon seeing his own reflection, the reflection of one of the most powerful creatures in Sysanohf. He instantly shot into the air, and, with renewed fervor, released one more pump of cold water into the once dusty bowl.
The level of the lake water rose to overflowing. It filled the irrigation trenches and covered the sand under his companions’ feet. Silver made a triumphant spin through the air to land as his normal form on the ground in front of Searin. He leaped up and down and shouted childishly, “I did it! I did it! You’ve never been more wrong! In your face, Searin, I did it!” It was not until then that Silver noticed the presence of three other figures standing behind Searin.
