Chapter 5: Friend or Foe

“Keep still,” the Shaman complained, rubbing the ointment on Kadal’s injured shoulder as she wriggled on her stool.

“I have failed,” the hunter muttered, her eyes fixed on the ground dejectedly.

“You did,” the Shaman replied with a nod, Kadal wincing as she pushed more of the white paste into her wound. “But failure is one step on the road to success, is it not? When we fall, we get back up, we don’t lie in the sand and sulk.”

“Why didn’t he kill me?” Kadal wondered. “There was nothing stopping him, he could have smashed my head like a ripe fruit, but he didn’t...”

“Who can say what goes through the minds of such creatures?” the Shaman replied, beginning to dress the wound with a cloth bandage.

Kadal did not want to argue with the Shaman, she had great respect for her, but her prediction had not come to pass. She had described the battlemage as cruel and bloodthirsty, yet when the opportunity to kill her had presented itself, he had stayed his hand. Why? What possible reason could the creature have for sparing her life? She had tried to kill him, she had shown him no quarter, so why would he show her any mercy in return?

He was like a walking contradiction. He had been so powerful in spite of his small stature, hitting with a strength that rivaled her own, able to weather blows that had toppled males twice his size in sparring matches. Where the Shaman had spoken of cruelty and malice, she had found sympathy, restraint. Kadal had seen the conflict in those strange, round eyes as he had raised his stave above his head. They had been such a strange color, as blue as the sky...

The Shaman finished dressing her wound, Kadal rising to her feet, the old woman batting away her hand as she began to fiddle with the bandage.

“Leave it alone, or it won’t heal,” she chided.

“What are we to do now?” Kadal asked. “The axe and the pendant were destroyed. Because of me, the ancient relics of our tribe are lost. How can we hope to challenge the mage now?”

“Do not think that the fate of our world rests upon your shoulders alone,” the Shaman chuckled, returning her bundle of bandages to its place on a shelf. “There are other tribes, with other relics. The time has come to send word to the other settlements. Where one warrior-shaman failed, others may yet prevail.”

“But ... what am I to do?” Kadal asked, rubbing her shoulder.

“You have done more than enough. Rest, heal. You must recover your strength.”

“Do you have no more tasks for me?” she protested. “What of the vision quest, the prophesy that I foresaw, the battlemage?”

“Enough, Kadal,” the Shaman sighed as she turned to glance back at her. “You are not the village’s sole protector. Being the most accomplished warrior in the tribe does not mean that you must solve every problem yourself, the other hunters can get along without you. Now, do as I ask, and rest up. Eat, bask, let your wounds mend.”

Kadal hung her head, making her way through the coral tunnel that led to the village. She stepped through the curtain and into the harsh sunlight, feeling it warm her scales, watching as the old women tended the fire pit. There were still hatchlings screeching with glee as they chased one another through the sand, there were still males carrying pots of water that they had brought up from the nearest oasis, society had not ground to a halt because of her failure.

The problem was, Kadal’s entire identity was wrapped up in her role as the village’s protector, as their problem-solver. The Shaman had all but commanded her to sit out this fight, so what did that make of her? What good was a protector who could not be relied upon to protect?

Not knowing what else to do with herself, she made her way out through the palisades, heading to her favorite basking rock on the outskirts of the settlement. As she felt the sun’s warmth energize her, and she closed her eyes, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to thoughts of the strange battlemage. Her curiosity was even more of a preoccupation than the shame of her defeat.

Why was he not as the Shaman had described? Why had he spared her? Why would someone who could not bring himself to slay a subjugated foe be set on ending the world, and all of its inhabitants along with it? Nothing made sense, nothing was as she had been told.

Kadal sat up on the rock, some of her prior resolve returning to her. If her people no longer had need of her, then she was free to find the answers for herself. The only way to do that was to track down the mage, shadow him, learn more about him and his intentions in the sacred city. Without her relics, she could no longer stand against him if he decided to attack her, but it was a risk that she had to take. She could not sit idle, not after what she had seen in her vision.

The Shaman would never sanction her plan, she would have to slip away in secret. Kadal would wait until nightfall, when most of the village was asleep, then she would continue her pursuit of the mage.

Caden sat in the shade of one of the petrified table corals, his wet clothes drying in the sun as he took the opportunity to eat some of his rations. The fight was still fresh in his mind, even hours later, and he found himself mulling over the events as he ate a piece of jerked meat.

He had won, yes, but barely. Without the enchanted knife that the Master had given him, the outcome might have been very different. It was hard to feel pride in his victory. He looked at his hands, now as good as new, remembering the horrific burns that the lightning had caused them. It was amazing what his magic could repair, they had been charred to a crisp, the pain had been incredible. Caden had never gotten into a fight since setting out on this journey. He had never been one for scrapping as a boy, he had never been involved in a drunken tavern brawl. When he imagined knights in their shining armor engaging the enemies of the kingdom, he thought of chivalry, of bravery and glory. The reality was far less glamorous. It was terrifying, painful, dirty. He never wanted to do it again if it could be avoided.

He glanced over at his staff as it lay propped up against a nearby rock, remembering the feeling of surrendering to its power, the unwelcome emotions that had flooded into him. There was strength in rage, in the desire to see one’s enemy crushed before them, in the resolve to kill without mercy. Even though he had triumphed over those impulses, regaining control before he had done something terrible, the fact that he could be driven to such lengths disturbed him. He was learning new things about himself that he didn’t necessarily like.

His thoughts turned to his opponent, the towering reptile woman who had come so close to separating his head from his shoulders. She was a champion, that much was obvious, selected by her people to do battle on their behalf. It was their primitive equivalent of a knight. While Caden had known that the reptiles practiced shamanism, he hadn’t known what form their magic would take. She had been outfitted with an arsenal of enchanted items just as he had. Her axe had been like his staff, a tool that allowed her to manipulate magic as much as a weapon, and her pendant had also housed some manner of arcane enchantment. The power of her magic had alarmed him, she had been able to make herself nigh-invulnerable, she could call down lightning from the heavens just as he commanded electricity. But while his magic drained life, hers seemed to encourage its growth. That was an oddity that would require more study when he had the time.

Then there was her sheer physicality. She was so tall, so strong, her stamina and vigor dwarfing his own. Caden hadn’t been around many women, there were no female sorcerers, and the Master had no family of his own. The only women he had known were his mother, his sisters, and a few shopkeepers. They were generally expected to be meek, to defer to their husbands, to nurture their families. These reptiles had a very different society, that much was certain. Their females were wild, ferocious, and they seemed to outgrow their males.

He quickly turned his mind back to the task at hand. He might have defeated the reptiles and vanquished their champion, but that didn’t mean that they had given up. Their intent to stop him was clear, he had to assume that they would try again.

Knowing that it might not provide him with any real protection, he began to cast his invisibility spell, settling in to sleep as the sun finally began to dip beneath the horizon.

The desert heat baked Caden as he marched, his sweat stinging his eyes. As the sun rose ever higher, navigation became more and more difficult, and he was starting to worry that he was losing his way. His compass had been rendered useless, and there were no landmarks to reference against his map. Everything looked the same in this Godsforsaken place.

As he trudged through the sand, rounding a large outcrop of rock, he came across something that wasn’t a coral reef or a spire. The glint of blue water greeted him as he stumbled upon an oasis that was nestled between the rocks, surrounded by a thick band of greenery that clung to its sandy shore. It couldn’t have been much more than fifty feet across, but there was a veritable forest of palm trees surrounding it, their fronds blowing as they swayed gently in the breeze. They were growing from a carpet of greenery, ferns and desert succulents sprouting in abundance to create a dense carpet of plant life. There were flowers, too, adding a splash of color to the undergrowth. It was such an odd sight, but a welcome one. Water must be rising up from beneath the ground, as there hadn’t been enough rainfall to account for something like this.

He had to shield his eyes as he approached, the glare of the sun reflecting off the water’s calm surface, a few desert birds fluttering from their hiding places in the fronds of the trees as he passed. The ring of plant life was deep enough that he could pretend that he was standing in a forest, if only for a moment, Caden running his fingers through the ferns as he made his way to the water’s edge.

How long had it been since he’d bathed properly? Not since leaving the tavern all the way back at the outskirts of the city. He couldn’t be sure that the reptiles wouldn’t mount some kind of sneak attack on him while he was vulnerable, but it wouldn’t be any more or less dangerous than sleeping. He renewed his perception spell for good measure, keeping his staff on the shore nearby as he began to disrobe, then stepped into the cool water.

Kadal crawled through the corals, keeping low to the rocks, raising her head over the crest of the reef. She had tracked the mage this far, she had found his footprints, caught his scent on the air. He could sense her from a distance, she knew that much, though she wasn’t sure how far that sense extended. It was best to be cautious, to keep her distance and stay in cover lest she be discovered.

Before her was an oasis, the sun reflected in its blue water, the palm trees swaying in the wind. It seemed that the mage was bathing. He had removed his abundance of clothing and was waist-deep in the shimmering pool. Her immediate thought was to take him unawares, her hand wandering down to the obsidian knife on her hip, but she noticed that his staff was resting by the water’s edge. She didn’t dare approach him while it was in reach.

Instead, she decided to observe him, watching as he cupped some of the clear water in his hands and poured it over his brown hair. His body was so strange, she had never seen one of his kind disrobed before. At least, not while it was still alive. For being able to hit her so hard with that staff, his small frame was only lightly muscled, certainly far less so than any of the males in her village. Could all of that strength have come from magic alone? His torso was rather short, but his shoulders were broad, she could see some of the muscles shifting beneath his skin as he washed himself.

His hide was smooth and scaleless, pinkish in hue, like no animal that she knew of. All of the creatures that slithered or scurried in the desert had either scales or fur, none of them were so ... naked. The water made it lustrous, glistening in the light of the sun, Kadal watching curiously as he ran his hands across it. He turned towards the shore, her eyes sliding down his torso. There was a dimple or some kind of hole just above his waistline, what was that for?

He began to make his way up the bank, Kadal letting her curiosity get the better of her, her gaze wandering between his thighs as his hips rose from the water. She darted out of sight as he glanced in her direction, putting her back to the corals, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle a yelp. Had he seen her? She slowly lifted her head to glance down at him again, seeing that he was rummaging through his pack, his modesty now protected by the thick carpet of underbrush. She was safe.

With a start, she realized that her frill was standing up, flushed a shade of embarrassed red. She hastily pushed it back down around her neck with her hands, glad that nobody could see her. Was she really more afraid of being caught peeking than being roasted alive by an angry battlemage? What was wrong with her?

Turning her mind back to her mission, she continued her observations, watching him withdraw an item from his pack. It was a piece of parchment rolled up in a tube. Could it be a map? Instructions? There was a large, leather-bound book, too. She wanted a closer look, both at him and at the contents of his pack. It seemed as though he was settling in to stay for a while, he was unfurling some kind of blanket to sleep on. Was he going to bask? Did his people do that?

She watched him lie down in the foliage, vanishing from view, then waited a few minutes more to ensure that he was sleeping. Surely whatever spell had let him sense his adversaries through solid rock would not work if he was unconscious?

Confident in her ability to move silently, if not to evade his magic, she crept down from her vantage point and began to make her way towards him. She clung to the corals, then darted across the open sand, diving into the cover of the ferns. Keeping low to the ground, she slowly made her way to the mage’s campsite, only the gentle rustling of the undergrowth giving her away. Her forked tongue flicked out to taste the air, Kadal picking up his scent, giving her a good idea of where he was. Dropping to all-fours, she slunk up to the trunk of a nearby tree, resting a hand on its rough bark as she rose to peer at her quarry.

He was lying on his side, facing away from her, clothed only in some manner of loincloth now. His chest rose and fell gently, he was indeed asleep. Once again, her hand crept down to her obsidian dagger, but she resisted the impulse. Had this creature not spared her life? She had no right to slit his throat while he slept, that was not the victory that she desired.

After watching him for a few moments more, she slithered over to his pack, opening the drawstring and peering inside. She glanced at him again, making sure he was still asleep, then began to rummage through its contents. The book was heavy, and she opened it, leafing through a handful of pages before realizing that she had no hope of reading the foreign text. There was a smaller pouch made from leather, which contained tiny, round pieces of gold. She lifted it, weighing it in her hand, holding up one of the strange artifacts to examine the engravings on it. Having no idea what they were for, she put it back, turning her attention to a disk-shaped object made from brass. It had a lid, which she managed to pry open with her claw, her eyes tracking a spinning arrow that was contained beneath a piece of glass. She gave it a tap, then lifted it to her ear and shook it, giving the sleeping mage another cautious glance.

The smell of food rose to her nose, and she fished out a paper parcel, opening it up to reveal some manner of dried meat. She flicked her tongue across it, finding it salty, then took a small bite. It was tough and chewy, like eating a strip of leather, but its unfamiliar taste enticed her.

She was alerted by the sound of rustling leaves, snapping her head around to see the mage rapidly rising to his feet, his staff clutched in his hand.

Caden lay still as he listened to the creature open his pack and begin to inspect its contents, his heart pounding as he clutched his staff in his hand. He was facing away from it, and his eyes were closed, but his enhanced perception allowed him to sense its presence as clearly as if he were staring right at it. He had seen it watching him from atop a reef that overlooked the oasis some time ago, and he had pretended to go to sleep, hoping that it would lure the reptile into a trap. He had expected it to try to attack him while he was vulnerable, and he’d been ready to spin around and blast it with a fireball, but it hadn’t done that. After watching him for a moment, it had moved over to his pack, and now it was eating his salted pork...

He wasn’t sure what it was planning, but he should probably stop it. Fortunately, he had prepared a spell for just such an occasion.

Caden leapt to his feet, his staff in hand, spinning around to point it at the reptile. The creature’s jaw went slack in alarm, a piece of half-chewed pork falling from its mouth. It began to move, wheeling towards the cover of the ferns, but Caden was already finishing his incantation. A flash of light leapt from the end of his staff, hitting the reptile in the back, every muscle in its body going slack as it toppled over onto the sand. Not wasting a second, as the curse would only last for a couple of minutes, he ran over to his pack and retrieved the spool of enchanted rope.

He tossed his staff aside and knelt over the thing, which was currently lying on its face in the ferns, pulling its long arms behind its back and binding its wrists tightly. When that was done, he moved down its long body, pushing its heavy tail out of his way so that he could reach its legs. He tied its ankles together with the other end of the rope, then struggled to pull it taut, crudely hogtying the thing. It was so damned heavy, just bending its knees was a struggle. Was it his imagination, or had the rope shrunken down to assist him? It was enchanted, after all.

When he was done, he stepped back, confident that the beast couldn’t escape. Even if it might have been strong enough to snap a normal rope, the Infinite Strand was unbreakable. He waited as it slowly recovered from his spell, the tip of its long tail starting to wind back and forth like a snake. Should he have found a way to bind that too? Oh well, it was too late now. Clutching his staff in his hand protectively, he watched it begin to struggle, rolling over onto its side as it fought against its bonds.

As it turned to glare at him, he realized that it was female, his cheeks starting to warm as he saw its ample bust wobble in its cloth sling. Was it appropriate to bind a lady in such a way, even if it was a killer reptile?

His eyes met hers, a pair of yellow irises with slitted pupils staring back at him angrily, ringed by crimson pigment. Come to think of it, he recognized her. This was the champion who he had fought the day before. What was she doing here? She hadn’t come seeking revenge, or she would have tried to put the stone knife on her hip through his back, surely?

Caden watched her wriggle in the ferns for a few moments, her muscles flexing beneath her mottled scales as she tried to break loose. The tip of her winding tail began to move, the appendage feeling its way around the rope that bound her, trying to undo the knots. He felt a pang of fear, then remembered what the Master had said about the artifact. ‘No weight can snap it, nor can any force untie it once knotted, save for the will of its owner.’

She eventually relaxed when she realized that it was no use, hissing something at him in her native tongue, baring her sharp teeth as the frill around her neck fluttered.

“Behave yourself,” he replied, not knowing if she would understand. He brandished his staff, a gesture that needed no translation, her eyes tracking it warily. “I knocked you out once, and I can do it again.”

Now that she was incapacitated, he didn’t really know what to do with her. He wanted to interrogate her, to ask her what she was doing and why her people were so intent on killing him, but they spoke no common language. Was there a spell for this? She watched him, craning her serpent-like neck as he retrieved his book, starting to search through its index. Lead Tongue, prevent a person from speaking. No, that wasn’t it. Commune with Fey? He had no idea what that meant. Throw Voice, he had used that once already. Amplify Voice, nope. There, a promising entry. Comprehend Tongues, a spell that would allow its caster to understand another’s speech for its duration.

She struggled more ardently as he began to recite the incantation, perhaps assuming that he was about to roast her alive or something of the sort. When he aimed the staff at her, she tried to roll out of the way, the frill of skin around her neck fluttering angrily.

There was no flash of light when the spell was complete, and Caden felt no different from when he had started, but her furious hissing gradually took on a more recognizable quality. Distinct words began to emerge from the incoherent warbling and snapping, slowly forming sentences.

“ ... your fleshless skull on a pike!”

“Do you understand me?” Caden asked, keeping his staff at the ready. Was this creature even intelligent enough to hold a conversation? Her yellow eyes watched him suspiciously, her blue tongue darting out to flick at the air.

“Yes,” she replied reluctantly. Now that she wasn’t uttering a series of bestial snarls and hisses, her voice took on a distinctly womanly quality. It was deeper than what he was used to, husky, as befitted her size.

“Good,” he sighed, glad that he was making some kind of progress. “Stop your struggling, you cannot escape. That rope holds a powerful enchantment.”

She lay still, glowering at him, Caden watching her warily.

“What do you plan to do with me?” she hissed.

“With ‘you’?” he repeated indignantly, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Now you listen here, you people are the ones who have been trying to murder me since I set foot in the Coral Sea. You should be glad I didn’t return the favor. I’ve done nothing to you, so why are you so intent on seeing me dead?”

“You seek the black stone!” the reptile replied, as belligerent as ever. “You wish to wield the dead star!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Caden snapped. “Dead star? Black stone? I know of no such thing.”

He was starting to wonder if the spell was even working properly, if this creature possessed reason enough to make any sense in the first place.

“You trespass on hallowed ground,” she added, “you will violate the sanctity of the sacred city!”

“Sacred city?” he asked. “I’m headed to the ruins on the Eastern shore of the Coral Sea, is that what you mean? Does that place hold some significance to you?”

“It is a holy place,” she replied, her voice dripping with malice. “It is my tribe’s duty to protect it, to prevent intruders from reaching it, as was ordained by the Gods.”

“So, that’s your justification for attacking anyone who sets foot here?” he scoffed. “Some kind of primitive superstition? I would expect even savages to have some concept of law and justice.”

She hissed at him in reply, Caden rolling his eyes at her impotent display of aggression.

“I know you,” he continued, “we fought yesterday, didn’t we? I recognize your, uh...” He gestured to the runes and patterns that were painted on her scales, the words escaping him. “Your body paint. Why did you track me here? Was it to take revenge? What were you looking for in my pack?”

She didn’t reply, baring her teeth at him.

“Alright,” he muttered, “let’s try something else. What do you know of this ‘sacred city’? Why is it so important that you prevent travelers from reaching it?”

“It has always been my kin’s sacred duty to guard it, and only now do I understand why. Its secrets cannot be permitted to fall into the hands of those who would use them to do evil.”

“Evil?” he scoffed. “My quest is a noble one.”

“Lies,” she snarled. “I drank of the Shaman’s potion, I saw the world scorched at your hands as the visions overtook me.”

“Again, no idea what you’re babbling about,” he grumbled. “The question now is what to do with you?”

The reptile froze up, her eyes widening, Caden tapping the end of his staff in the palm of his hand as he looked her up and down. It was rather dramatic, but she deserved a bit of a fright after all the trouble she had caused him.

“If I let you go, you might just come back and kill me in my sleep,” he mused, walking around her prone form as her head swiveled on her flexible neck to track him. “You’re too heavy to drag around, I cannot take you with me.”

“Lay a hand on me, and I shall ... I shall...”

The reptile couldn’t think of a retort, resuming her ardent wriggling in the ferns.

“You’ll ‘what’?” Caden asked. “It seems to me that you’re in no position to make threats. Perhaps I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine and put ‘your’ head on a pike, see how ‘you’ like it.”

Her frightened reaction made him feel a little guilty, and he decided to stop toying with her. “Alright,” he sighed. “What guarantee can you give me that if I untie you, you’ll leave me be? I’ll only set you loose if you promise to go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone. Tell your kin to do the same.”

She hesitated, Caden awaiting her reply.

“I ... cannot,” she admitted. “Even if I were to abandon my sworn duty, others will take my place.”

“Damn,” he grumbled, running a hand through his still-damp hair. At the very least, she wasn’t lying to save her own hide. She seemed trustworthy in that regard.

“Why would you let me go?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him. “Yesterday, when you defeated me in battle, you spared my life. I was at your mercy, yet you let me live. Why?”

“That surprises you?” he replied, the reptile fixing him with her unwavering stare. “Killing someone who no longer poses any threat to me would be wrong, immoral. I won’t do harm to anyone if it can be avoided.”

“Yet you seek entry into the sacred city,” she replied, his statement seeming to confound her.

“We’re clearly talking at crossed purposes,” Caden added with an exasperated sigh. “These concepts don’t mean the same thing to me as they do to you. Listen, just ... I’ll undo those binds, and you can go free. Leave me alone,” he pleaded. “Believe me when I tell you that I mean you no harm, nor anybody else. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but if I see you again, you may leave me no other choice.”

He reached down towards her loincloth, the reptile whipping the back of his hand with her tail. He recoiled, dancing on the spot as he waved his hand, wincing.

“What did I just say!?” he snapped. “Behave yourself, or I’ll paralyze you again.”

Caden reached for her waist, and she remained still this time, realizing that he wanted to relieve her of her dagger. He withdrew it from a loop that was attached to a leather belt, a kind of primitive scabbard, and tossed the weapon into the oasis. It landed in the water with a splash, quickly sinking out of sight. Only now did he notice the cloth bandage on her shoulder, pausing to glance at it for a moment. That was where he had pierced her scales with a glass arrow the day before, a pang of guilt welling up inside him.

He aimed his staff at her and began to recite the healing incantation, the bound reptile starting to writhe on the sand once again as her eyes widened in alarm. He couldn’t tell her what he was doing without interrupting the spell, so he retreated to a safe distance, getting clear of her thrashing tail. She soon stopped her struggled when she felt her injury begin to mend, torn flesh knitting together again, Caden watching the silvery strands do their work beneath the fabric. The nearby ferns began to wilt and brown, which seemed to alarm her. When it was done, he lowered his staff, the reptile watching him curiously.

Obeying his will, the ropes that had her so tightly bound loosened, all of the knots coming undone without him having to lift a finger. Now freed, she climbed to her feet, keeping a wary eye on him as she began to rub her wrists. Once again, her size impressed him. She was so tall...

“See?” he said, spreading his arms. “I’m not going to hurt you. And I was joking, by the way, when I told you that I’d put your head on a pike. I mean, it wasn’t funny, I was just trying to give you a fright. Anyway, uh ... off you go.”

She glanced at him again, then began to unbind her shoulder, letting the length of cloth bandage fall to the ground. Her scales were covered in some kind of white paste, and she wiped it away, giving what had once been her injury an experimental prod with a clawed finger. It was as good as new, as though she had never been hurt at all.

“You are not as you should be,” she said, Caden unsure of how to respond to such a statement.