The Dragon Realms Saga

Twelve years ago

Dragon Realm Scorch

“Wake up, girl.”

A savage kick brought her awake to another warm day in Nal'Jharubes. Avalon sheltered her eyes from the brilliant sun, still dazed from sleeping. Staring down on her was the always finely dressed Don Juan Diego the Third.

He snapped his fingers and his young servant appeared, this time with a velvet cushioned chair. The man took a seat, pulling a foot to rest across his knee. He did not talk, but instead made grunting sounds with his throat until he started to annoy the woman lying in her bed of trash and flea ridden rags.

“What do you want?” snapped Avalon.

Don Juan leaned in his chair, held from toppling backwards by the struggling boy. “Do you know the difference between you and I?”

Avalon wrestled in her trash pile to get comfortable again. She shut her eyes, pretending to go back to sleep. After a moment she gave in. “You're not covered in shit?”

“You beat me, but I have not beaten you,” he responded, ignoring Avalon's cynical answer.

Avalon rolled on her back and pointed to her face. “For a hot meal, I'll let you beat me to a

pulp.”

Don Juan kicked the chair away and crouched next to her. “Listen to me, girl. I know your opponents aren't taking your challenges. That's why you sleep with the rats. I can offer you a chance to have that glory once again.”

“I don't want glory, I want out of here.”

“How about a chance to never sleep in a trash heap again? Financial support for whatever you want for the rest of your life?”

Avalon sat up. “What exactly do you need from me?”

“We put on a show!”

“A show?” repeated Avalon, already losing interest.

“Yes, a show! You and I will fight for a crowd, the biggest crowd for a duel this city has ever seen. But it will all be for a friendly bout. Like an over-glorified sparring match with a scripted outcome.”

Avalon tilted her head.

“I can see you are not convinced,” He stood once more and pulled a large coin purse from his vest and dropped it into Avalon's lap. “Clean yourself up, buy some new clothes, and enjoy this money. Spar with me and you'll see more.”

Avalon had never seen such wealth before, at least none that belonged to her. Spending her nights half-starved and covered with a thick layer of filth. She cascaded the silver coins into her hand. At least a week’s worth of meals and then some.

All I need to do is spar with this idiot and more good days will follow? I can do that!

***

The sendetti was a welcome addition to her miserable life. She used a quarter to purchase a day at a bathhouse, relaxing in the steamy water and scrubbing off a life she would never go back to. She then used another handful to buy her a new set of clothes, light desert garbs, but with the darkest dyes available. Instead of the black and violet colors she was used to, she opted for dark blues and reds. Perhaps it was her training as an assassin, but she felt more at home with deep colors over vibrant ones.

After a filling meal, she made her way to town square per Don Juan’s instructions. A constructed wooden stage spanned half the square, and a massive crowd gathered around it. Upon the stage there was no play or concert, but Don Juan spinning a grand tale.

“Long ago, before the lands covered the sleeping dragons, there were two warriors of old. Eternal rivals, competing in both sport and war. None could defeat them, though all had tried. Giants, serpents, beasts - none prevailed. They were gods among men, and could only be defeated by each other. So, they clashed! Not even death could end their rivalry, for rebirth would follow each defeat. They fought thousands of battles for a thousand lives.” He stopped to let the crowd catch their breath from the awe-inspiring story. “Now that battle shall be concluded

here! On this very spot, for I am Jalil the Exalted; one of those heroes! The other is...” he swept his hand over the crowd until finding Avalon, “...Aida, the One Who Returns.”

The crowd cheered as Avalon climbed up the steps to the large stage. She bowed to the audience, then drew her ninjato. She smiled, enjoying the fanfare.

Don Juan drew his rapier and saluted to the people before pointing it at Avalon. “Aida uses the blade of an assassin! Only Jalil can defeat such a criminal” he shouted. “Have at thee, fiend!”

Avalon danced around the platform, tumbling around and sweeping her sword as she played

the role of Aida. However, the crowd looked bored. Some yawned while others walked off. Avalon’s heart sank. They’d come for a battle? She’d better give them one. That, or digging for scraps and begging for coins.

As Don Juan struck forward, Avalon ducked underneath the rapier and shoved a deep elbow into his side.

The attack threw Don Juan back, heaving for breath. He barely had time to recover as he went flying head over heels from an acrobatic kick. Roars filled the air as the audience watch the spectacular act.

Don Juan wobbled on his feet as he rose from the ground. “Don't forget I'm supposed to be the hero here,” he whispered.

Avalon grinned, lunging forward and slashing wildly at the parrying duelist. Sparks flew from each clash of steel.

Avalon wove around each of her opponent's attacks before finishing with a series of backflips across the stage. The people hung on each moment, shouting for their hero to overcome the cunning villain.

“They are loving this!” called Avalon to her partner.

“Let’s bring it home!” Don Juan laughed. Together they matched movements and footing until Don Juan skillfully pierced Avalon's robes, skimming her flesh. To the audience it looked like a killing blow - and that's how Avalon sold it. She cried out with a choking gag, complete with her tongue popping out of her mouth. She twirled in the air before flinging herself to the ground, convulsing.

Don Juan made an exaggerated bow and collected the sendetti being thrown to him. “Thank you, one and all!”

***

Avalon found Don Juan and his servant counting the earnings in a cantina across the way.

She pulled up a seat and ordered a glass of wine in celebration.

“You did well, girl.” He passed a small pile of silver coins to Avalon’s side of the table. “Don't spend it all in one place.”

Avalon looked down with a wide smile. “When is our next performance? Should we travel to another city?”

“You seem confused, girl. This was a one-time show.”

“What!?” snapped Avalon, slamming her hand down on the table. The coins clattered as the tower toppled. “You said-”

“Listen, I know what I said, and I've changed my mind.” He calmly took a sip from his wine and popped a cheese cube into his mouth. “But the hero can't lose and I'm sure the people would get sick of the same story over and over again.”

“But-”

“Here, take an extra bit as a severance payment; but that is what we are from here on out, severed.” He snapped his fingers and the boy slid the rest of the sendetti into a large satchel before following his master out of the cantina. “Come, boy, we are done here.”

Avalon sat speechless, her eyes glossing over the thirty-five silver sendetti scattered around her corner of the table. She clenched her fists until her veins bulged, then pounded the table again in frustration.

“I couldn't help overhearing about your business falling through,” a husky voice came from behind. Avalon turned her head to find a plump, short man standing between two well-built slaves. The man wore fine threads and glittering gold chains hung from his neck. As he continued to speak, he sounded like food was stuffed into his mouth, muffling his words. “I've been keeping my eye on you, girl. You are a very good fighter. Do you have a name?”

“Avalon,” she said as she sized him up warily.

“Avalon. I like it.”

“Who are you?” she said, returning the question.

“I am Airenfal. I am a very important man here. Some would say Nal'Jharubes is my city.”

“What would a man like you want with me?”

“I need your talents, your skills as a fighter to make sure my businesses run smoothly.”

Avalon folded her arms and looked at him skeptically. “You want me to be an enforcer. I'm not interested in that type of work,” she said, shaking her head. She gathered her sendetti and prepared to make an exit.

“Thirty-five sendetti will last you, what? Two days at the most, three if you are mindful?” Airenfal called out to her. He smirked as she stopped to turn around. “Then you'll be back to competing for trash with the rest of the slobs out there.”

Silent, she looked at the ground, searching for her moral compass.

Airenfal continued, “I can give you a job, money, a home, things to call your own… a purpose. You just have to knock around a few heads, that's all.”

“I- I won't kill anyone,” said Avalon, half to her conscience, half to Airenfal.

“No one wants you to kill anyone. What do you say Avalon?”

Just until I have enough to get out of here.

“Well?” Airenfal asked again

“Deal.”