The Great Hero is a Schoolteacher

I went back to the kitchen with shaking hands. Baking usually calmed me, but this time, there was too much at stake.

Kossi attacked Carastra yesterday. He burned down Rabal today. Where will he be tomorrow, and is there a way to stop him?

Roll. Add butter. Fold.

The more I think of it, the less sense it makes. All I can do is hope we know more in the morning. Cherub will help, but will I have the patience?

While I was waiting for the sticky dough to cool down again, the king and crown princess left Carastra in a carriage escorted by guards on horses, to see the damage with their own eyes.

I asked a few questions around me. Most people in the palace were worried, down to the youngest servants. Kossi was a celebrity. Even though he hadn’t shown up much in the past few years, he was still thought of as a protector. Everyone had seen him at least once. He was a bit strange, but kind.

Then I took the dough out of the ice box to work on it one last time.

“Dinner will be served soon,” said Sirit.

I nodded.

“I can’t wait to taste what you and your team prepared. Just let me finish this, I won’t be long.”

The head cook leaned on the counter next to me.

“I heard you asking around about the Gold Dragon. Can you protect us, Great Hero Al?”

I took a deep breath.

“I can’t shield the whole kingdom against his flames, but there’s something fishy about these attacks and I promise you I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“And stop him?”

“We’ll put an end to whatever’s making the dragon attack.”

I looked down at my dough.

“I think we folded it enough. I’ll get up early next morning to roll the croissants.”

“No, Great Hero Al!” Sirit waved her hands in front of me. “Get some rest, you’ll need it. We’re always up early in the kitchen. I usually go to the market, but I can send someone else and do the baking myself. Just tell me what I should do.”

I explained she had to cut the dough into rectangles, every rectangle into a triangle, gently roll them into crescent shapes, let them rise for an hour or so, then brush them with egg wash and bake them until golden brown.

“Are you sure you’ll remember it?”

Sirit tapped her forehead. “Of course I will! I didn’t become the head cook by accident. Now go have dinner.”

She pushed me out of the kitchen, and I sat down to stuffed poultry with turnip and spinach, or very close equivalents. I wanted to go look for a library after dinner, and read about this new world I lived in, but I felt too nervous to read. I just took a walk in the flower garden, around the fountain, and went to bed early.

Knocks on my bedroom door startled me awake. I sat up, wondering what time it was. No light came from the slit between the curtains, and I still felt quite sleepy.

“Great Hero Al!” a voice called.

“Yes? Is it morning already?”

“No, it’s still night, but King Esthar returned from the village of Rabal. There will be an emergency meeting in the council room at half past eight. Do you want a maid to wake you up?”

I can’t decide whether I hate the king for waking me up in the middle of the night, or if I appreciate knowing that I’ll have to get up early. In any case, this person isn’t responsible for what’s happening, so the least I can do is to be polite.

“Yes, please. At the person’s convenience, as long as it’s before eight o’clock.”

“Thank you, Great Hero Al. I’ll be leaving now!”

I lay back in bed, my eyes already closed but my mind racing. Who was invited to this meeting? I couldn’t be the only one. What did the king want with us? What had he seen in that village? I hoped Kossi had managed to resist whoever controlled him, and to avoid killing people.

What if I got up now and asked Esthar about it? No. He must be in bed, too, and he needs to sleep as much as I do. Let go, Alicia. I’ll get answers soon enough.

I was already half-awake when a maid gently knocked in the morning. I washed my face, got dressed, put my hair up, and since it was still early, I went downstairs for breakfast. The smell of croissants filled the air, raising a lot of curiosity among the people eating in the small dining room.

“There you are, Great Hero Al!” said Sirit, who was standing by the kitchen door. “These gentlemen wanted to taste your recipe, but I wouldn’t let them come near it before you saw it!”

“It’s not my recipe, Sirit. It’s commonplace where I come from. But thank you.”

I bit through my first croissant with an audience: a handful of cooks wanting to make sure that I was satisfied, and half a dozen gentlemen eager to have a bite. Due to the use of ingredients from a different world, it didn’t taste exactly the same as my old breakfasts, but it was close enough. I sighed. Unlike Cristolia Valmar, the architect, who only happened to look like my friend Leda Gatilla, this croissant was real, not just a reminder of things lost. At the same time, it still faced me with the reality of my situation: I couldn’t go back.

“Don’t you like it?” asked Sirit.

I realized there was a small tear at the corner of my eyes.

“No, it’s just as good as I hoped. Thanks for everything.”

“It’s excellent!” added one of the gentlemen. “Can we have more, one of these days?”

“If Sirit wants to make more, she has my blessing.”

Now, if I can lay my hands on a hot drink that tastes like coffee, my breakfast mission will be complete.

Perfect on a first try. As I promised the day before, I gave Sirit the exact recipe. Then I basked in the general appreciation of my croissants, gathering as much strength as I could before moving to the king’s council room.

I had expected some kind of boardroom with advisors sitting around a large table. Instead, I found myself in a place that looked more like my idea of a chapel than the actual chapel of the palace. Its columns rose above a rectangular stone floor to a high vaulted ceiling. All along one wall, large stained-glass windows represented a field under a sunny sky. There was a row of dark blue velvet seats, but not enough to accommodate everyone in the room, and the only writing desk was used by a scribe in a corner. The king was mostly here to talk, and we were mostly here to listen.

Esthar and Nigella were the only ones seated, and they both wore their crowns. Apart from them, I recognized Archbishop Terru, the five Senior Magi in their purple robes, some advisors, including Lord Torren, who’d taken me to the Royal Sword Academy, and a few officers in outfits that looked fancy enough to be ceremonial uniforms. Most of these people were men. Apart from the princess and myself, only two Senior Magi and one advisor were women.

When a valet closed the door behind us, King Esthar stood up and talked.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I gathered you here this morning because of a pressing situation. When Kossi, the Gold Dragon we thought of as a friend, attacked Carastra two days ago, we worried and we mourned our dead, but nobody imagined that he would burn down a whole village on the very next day. Crown Princess Nigella and I went to Rabal last night. We found no building standing. All that is left is a pile of ashes.”

The assembly kept silent. What was there to answer, anyway?

Princess Nigella opened her mouth, but her father raised an arm to silence her.

“Two attacks in two days,” he added. “We must expect Kossi to strike again this afternoon.”

“Can’t we wait for him and strike as soon as he attacks again?” asked an officer.

One of the Senior Magi shook his head. It was Pernel, the man who’d helped me talk to the population two days earlier, the one with the rose gold hair.

“We could if we knew where to expect him, but we don’t. He probably won’t reach the sea from his lair, but he may attack any place, from the mountain tops to the fields south of Carastra.”

I raised a hand.

“Excuse me?” All heads turned to me and I felt myself blush. “Forgive my ignorance. I come from another world and my question might sound stupid to you, but out of curiosity, I’d like to know. Yesterday, you fired bolts and spells at Kossi and he didn’t seem to feel them. Is it really possible to wound a Gold Dragon?”

Pernel bit his lips. From the look on his face, he did think I was stupid. Another Senior Magus, an elderly bald man with dark brown skin and eyes like peridot, stepped forward and talked to me in a soft voice. His name was Naenar.

“It is possible, Great Hero Al. One missile may not pierce the dragon’s scales, but it does weaken them, so by concentrating fire on a single target, we can wound him, or even kill him.”

Senior Magus Malin, the woman with the silver bob, sniffed.

“He kept moving yesterday and we couldn’t aim at a single place on his body, which is why we eventually stopped attacking. But if we knew where to find him, and if we could restrain him just long enough…”

She sighed. For a second, silence hovered in the council room.

Then the king’s voice rose again.

“Sadly, as Sir Pernel said, we do not know Kossi’s whereabouts. But I will not let a Gold Dragon betray a centuries-old pact without retaliating! Today, I brought you together to make a common decision. Will we let Kossi terrify and murder the people of Brealia, or will we strike in return?”

Arguments were raised. Hands were raised too. I tried to follow the debate, but everyone talked at the same time, and in the end, a large majority of voters, led by the five Senior Magi, approved the idea of a counterattack. I didn’t, and neither did the princess, but we had a majority against us. Instead of finding out what was really happening, they wanted to slay the dragon, like in a fairy tale for children.

Dread built up like cold stone inside my body. Couldn’t these people see how unfair and oversimplistic their solution was? And why didn’t they respect their own crown princess?

“How do you intend to proceed?” I asked when the chattering voices went down.

An officer gave me a contemptuous look, as if I was a stupid child bothering grown-up people who were trying to mind serious business. “It’s obvious, Great Hero Al. We may not be able to locate Kossi, but we know he’ll go back to his lair eventually. All we have to do is go there, wait for him, and put an end to his rampage by killing him.”

“All you have to do,” I commented. “You make it sound so simple.”

The whole assembly was staring at me. I could literally feel the weight of their disapproval, but I couldn’t just stand there and let them decide to slaughter a creature who was acting against his will.

Pernel, the Senior Magus, had a weird sad smile. “Of course it won’t be simple. As we told you, it will require complex coordination between soldiers and sorcerers. But it must be done.”

Lord Gimon, an advisor whose white beard reminded me of Leonardo Da Vinci, nodded sadly.

“Kossi has obviously lost his mind. Slaying him as soon as possible is the only option we have.”

King Esthar walked toward me through the crowd, a living picture of dignity and cold anger.

“Great Hero Al, you do not seem to understand what is at stake right now. I have known Kossi since I was a child and I considered him a friend. Do you think I choose to put him to death light-heartedly? I will do what it takes to protect my people. So should you.”

Given our respective authorities, I should have looked down. Esthar was the king who summoned me, and I had yet to prove my worth as Great Hero. However, bowing down to unfair authority wasn’t my idea of heroism, so I returned his stare.

“Will you join us?” he asked. “Will you go to Kossi’s lair and become the protector of Brealia you were summoned to be?”

It’s not a question, it’s an order. He summoned a Great Hero who was supposed to support his power, not undermine it. I must tell him someone else is behind this and going after Kossi is a huge mistake, but I have no proof, just Cherub’s word!

I bit the inside of my lips.

“Great Hero Al!” shouted Esthar.

What should I answer?

The stained-glass window shattered, taking my breath away. I ducked. So did everyone else. King Esthar grabbed his crown with both hands as if to protect it from the large creature who had just flown into the room and hovered above us, the underside of his wings shimmering like pure gold.