Magma Dragon's Heir

62nd of Season of Earth, 56th year of the 32nd imperial era

Newt really had licked his fingers that night. The breaded hopper filets were exquisite. He also managed to defend his chastity and the sanctity of his heavily scented rented bedroom. Dahlia proved to be a wonderful distraction, and the scandalously clad, witty woman made splendid company. Newt would not have minded conversing with her again, if only she would put on some clothes over her underwear. He even enjoyed the bitter-sweet taste of the wine they shared.

But those were the joys of yesterday. A new day had dawned, and Newt had a pending invitation he was certain he couldn't refuse. Not that he wanted to, but the lack of options sat ill with him. He patted the dust off his pants as best as he could, inspected his clothes before donning them, and went towards the keep.

What does he want from me? Newt asked himself that question at least twenty times since the guard instructed him towards his "inn". Another question pecking at his brain was how did the townlord know Newt was coming?

The eerie sense of familiarity stalked him through Hailstown streets, but things were different than in his nightmare. Armfuls of wildflowers hung from the building roofs, their pleasant scent spreading.

Smiling people crowded the empty streets of his dreams, chattering about the tournament, some pointing at posters pasted onto the buildings and fences, drawing Newt's attention. The posters depicted two youths swinging swords at each other, drawing quality quite good in Newt's eyes.

The first annual Hailstown Youth Tournament, the poster said in large black letters, then bellow stated the tournament was open and free to enter for all awakened under the age of forty with the first prize being two hundred first realm crystals, the second place taking a hundred, the third fifty, and the rest of the top ten getting ten each.

The amount was huge for commoners, and while it wouldn't advance Newt's realm much, two hundred gems could help out his family quite a bit. Especially since he had absorbed everything their mine had left to offer.

He checked the date, and the tournament started in two weeks. He had enough money to afford the stay before he moved on towards Thunderbluff in search of other opportunities to earn manarium for his family.

The consideration suppressed the uncomfortable familiarity, which was much fainter than yesterday, and Newt continued towards the keep feeling better.

Before the fortified entrance, he introduced himself to the guards. One of the pair remained on duty while the other led him in, leaving him in the care of an elderly commoner.

"Follow me, sir."

Confused by the reception, Newt followed the butler through the large courtyard and into the large entrance hall. They took several turns in lavishly carpeted hallways before the servant rasped on a lacquered wooden door.

"Townlord, Newstar Salamandra is here to see you."

"Come in, young man," a deep, jovial voice came from the other side of the wooden door, and once more Newt obediently did as he was told.

He entered a lounge with three short tables lined with massive armchairs. The window was narrow and tall, making the room dark, while pale, padded furnishing covered in equally pale-green scales did its best to brighten up the space. At the central table, with a teapot and a cup of tea in front of him, sat Dandelion Blackfist, the townlord.

The man vaguely resembled the one from Newt's dream. His hair was shorter and face kind of similar, but the beard was different, and the way he sat there in rich clothes like he owned the place had nothing in common with the confused coward Newt's imagination had conjured.

Newt stood before him like a fool for a moment before the townlord gestured towards the chair across the table from him.

"Come, sit. Would you like some tea? I would have offered wine, but you are so underaged, I am afraid someone would bring me before a magistrate for misleading the youth."

Newt almost said he just had wine last night, and that it wasn't all that bad. He had even done it in the establishment the townlord personally sent him to, but it seemed rude. He tried to find the words to say, but so many awkward questions popped up in his mind, not the least of which was what had Dandelion done with his mother and father, but mother specifically.

The townlord saw his distress and helped him. "I understand you are looking for your parents, and you have some misgivings about a girl. A very important topic at your tender age, but I would prefer us discussing it like civilized adults, rather than trading blows. Please, sit."

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Newt sat.

"Tea?"

The townlord poured tea for him, steam rising from the greenish-yellow liquid as Newt stared at the cup, trying to get his thoughts in order and to come up with the questions he should ask.

"You are a silent type? All action, no banter." The townlord chuckled, and Newt looked at him, searching for the hints of the phantom from his dream.

"Yes, I mean no. I am quiet, and I'm here to seek information about my parents—" He stopped himself before mentioning Jasmine. She was nowhere nearly as important as his parents, but if his friend was in danger, he was obliged to save her.

Fortunately, there was another topic to discuss. "And I've seen the posters about the tournament along the way."

The townlord nodded and steepled his fingers, holding Newt's gaze and making the youth uncomfortable.

"Understandable. The tournament reward is hardly worth your time, but by all means, thrash a bunch of first realm knights struggling for resources to advance a layer if you enjoy stealing from children."

The words felt like a slap, but the townlord didn't seem to mean it. He even chuckled lightly.. "As for the girl, I wish to speak with you frankly. I have heard of you, and what you have done with your family, and all the other nastiness you suffered. Life sometimes tempers us with hardship, but often it is simply unfair for no rhyme or reason. Do you mind if I broach some sensitive topics?"

Newt's spine stiffened, and the skin at the back of his neck crawled.

"Sure." He swallowed a lump, wondering what the townlord would say.

"That Jasmine girl you are eyeing is a self-centered gold digger, looking for nothing save to climb higher in the world. I dislike her, but Hardstone has the right to do as he wishes with his life. He is not a child." The townlord spoke with a tone that leaned more towards a cold analysis than paternal worry. As if he had children to spare. He probably did.

Meanwhile, Newt's heart skipped a beat from shock. He knew Jasmine his entire life. She was kind and sweet and funny, but the townlord didn't care about his opinion, he just kept talking.

"As for you, you are not my child. I can advise you about matters like this man-to-man, and you are free to do as you like afterward. Now, I think she would be poisonous for you, so I spoke with my daughters to see if any would match your taste, and frankly I found them all self-centered, but nowhere nearly as manipulative, nor willing to prostitute themselves for power or wealth."

Newt clenched his fists in rage, his whole body shaking, and the townlord chuckled once again, as if that would make his words more agreeable.

"I apologize for being so blunt. It is a character flaw of mine, but I have your best interests at heart, and I can prove my claims."

"How will you prove them?" Newt did his best not to growl the words, but he wasn't sure he made it. Still, Blackfist pretended not to notice.

"I will show you, but first, please take your tea. You need to calm down and evaluate the situation with a clear mind."

Newt downed the tea, but the townlord immediately poured him another cup.

"Do enjoy it a bit and exercise more caution in the future. I could have poisoned you just now. While I am seeking to resolve our differences and deescalate the situation, I am not beneath poisoning or murdering my enemies."

The easygoing way in which the townlord mentioned killing him, combined with his carelessness, struck Newt as hard as a physical blow. He eyed the cup suspiciously, and Blackfist laughed.

"It is too late to think about it after you have already drained an entire cup. Only an idiot would use a poison that will spare his enemy after they sipped it."

Disturbed, Newt sipped the tea, but he could not recall the taste by the time he lowered his cup. He had forgotten about Jasmine, and only thought about one thing - the man sharing tea with him was much worse than the rumors suggested.

"How do you plan to prove your claims?" Newt asked after calming down and sorting his thoughts. Fortunately, his mindcore increased his mental acuity enough for the pause to be imperceptible.

"In this long life of mine, I have found words empty. They can never convince people even of the most obvious truths, so I rely on practical demonstrations. Demonstrating overwhelming force eclipses empty threats, demonstrating loyalty serves better than lip service. And in case you are wondering, this is also a demonstration."

"A demonstration of what?" Newt asked, a tiny voice whispering into his ear that the man sitting with him was much more dangerous than all of his heart demons and his family's traitors put together.

"I am demonstrating my usefulness, candidness, and desire to work with you, or at least, if you believe our differences are so huge that we cannot be allies, I am at least interested in nonaggression."

"Why?" Newt could not understand why someone older, wiser, and probably stronger than him wished to be his friend and ally. It reeked of a trap.

"Because you are a genius," the townlord said matter-of-factly. "My strength compared to yours. I could crush you where you stand, either with poison or brute strength, but my instincts tell me I have much to gain from a friendship with you. Almost as much as you stand to gain by being friends with me."

Newt was silent for a moment, but risked the question on his mind. It was probably the reason behind everything the townlord had done since yesterday.

"How do you know I'm a genius?"

Blackfist gave him a flat stare, lowering his cup.

"Because I have more than five brain cells. Listen, young man, your uncle threw you into an abandoned mine three years ago, and while your body has obviously suffered during that time, you somehow awakened, advanced your realm all on your own, and grown strong enough to destroy him utterly and win back your clan with the rest of the leadership accepting or at least tolerating you. It would take a moron to think you were lucky." He paused. "Scratch that. You should be aware, there are plenty of people out there who do not value information as much as they should. They might not look into potential allies and enemies out of arrogance, inexperience, or delusions of grandeur. Hells, they might even believe themselves invincible."

The brawny man leaned towards Newt and grinned like a predator, showing perfect white teeth.

"But I am not that kind of man."