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Race: Draconian

Bloodline Powers: Improved Strength+, Rending, Firebreath+

Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 6, Wind (Noble) 5, Sound (Advanced) 3

Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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Snow crunched under Samazzar’s feet as he layered warmth around himself with magic. Behind him, Tarxis and Barsa hugged goat hair parkas close to themselves. Samazzar’s breath came out in white puffs as he paused to look up at the cliff face to his right. It was utterly featureless other than a handful of scraps of green foliage, bushes and stunted trees, growing out of crags in the sheer rock.

Wind rushed overhead and Takkla touched down next to the three of them, her legs sinking almost a pace into the snow before she came to a halt. Her wings beat once as she tried to recover her balance, and even before she started speaking, Samazzar could feel the cloak of heat around her beginning to melt the snow.

“I haven’t spotted anything important. The mountain pass opens up into a couple of valleys in a half league or so, but I didn’t fly ahead to get a look. The air is too thin for me to make it far without replenishing my oxygen.”

“I didn’t realize that it would get this bad,” Samazzar agreed, glancing back at Tarxis and Barsa as they struggled through the snow. “I knew that conditions would get harsher as we climbed the mountains, but it’s still spring down in the foothills. Between the poor air and the frigid cold, I’m not sure that any of the kobolds could survive this journey without our help.”

Takkla pursed her snout, surveying the bleak pass as she folded her wings behind her.

“The temperature might be better in the summer, but I don’t know how we will get around the air quality problem without potions or a practitioner.”

“We’d need accordion sponges or something even more exotic in order to make potions to increase lung capacity,” Samazzar replied with a sigh. “I know there are some in the deep tunnels, I found a couple down there after all, but I doubt we can discover enough of them to get an expedition through the mountain passes and back. I suppose the only real option is to include a practitioner that understands the mystery of oxygen on every trip.”

“Still,” he continued thoughtfully. “It’s not like trek up here has been fruitless. The wind acts differently when the air is thinner, and monitoring it while I feed oxygen to the kobolds has been enlightening. Plus, Tarxis has already awoken to the first tier of the mystery of oxygen. A dozen more trips like this and he will be ready to start learning about the wind itself.”

Behind them, Tarxis whimpered and Samazzar couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t know whether his apprentice had heard him or whether some sort of feral sixth sense had warned the kobold that more suffering was to come, but either way there would be more hiking in his future.

“There’s something to that,” Takkla responded. “I’ve had to change how often I flap my wings in order to stay airborne. The alterations weren’t major, but they have made me rethink how I go about flying. I don’t know that I’m about to have an epiphany and baptism, but there certainly are secrets to learn by scaling these heights.”

Through the wind, Samazzar felt Barsa shiver behind him. A quick follow up revealed that the kobold’s core temperature was beginning to drop, a sure sign that hypothermia would be setting in soon.

He raised a hand, calling all of them to a halt as he reached out with his mind, amplifying the body heat around the two kobolds and warming them. Barsa hissed in pain and began shivering uncontrollably, a worrying sign that his body hadn’t been responding to the cold. Meanwhile, Traxis just sighed in relief.

“We’re stopping for an hour,” Samazzar announced, his mind tracing the wind along the cliff face in order to find an overhang where they could start a fire. “We’ll have some lunch and rest before continuing. Takkla says that the mountain pass descends into a series of valleys in a half league so we won’t have that much travel once we start up again.”

Both Traxis and Barsa gasped out grateful responses. Samazzar didn’t reply, instead pushing his way through the snow to try and create a trail for the two smaller kobolds. It still took almost five minutes for the four of them to trudge to the cave he had sighted.

Once there, it was a simple matter of pulling out a small amount of dried wood and goat droppings and setting them up on a plate of stone. Samazzar exhaled a ribbon of flame into the tinder, and in barely a minute they had a roaring fire, enhanced to burn as little fuel as possible, lighting the shallow cave.

“T-thanks Samazzar,” Barsa muttered through chattering teeth. “Even with the coat, I don’t think I’m cut out for temperatures this cold for days on end. It feels like my body is grinding to a halt. I don’t know how much more my body could have taken.”

Samazzar reached out with his mind, sealing off the mouth of the cave from the outside wind and chill. Almost immediately, the temperature inside spiked from chilly to pleasantly warm. He smiled gently at the kobold.

“You’re already past your limit Barsa. Part of studying the mysteries is knowing how much a body can take, and you’re giving all the signs of someone that has been pushed too far. I apologize for not noticing the symptoms earlier, but only serves to confirm my earlier opinion. Once we return to Union City, it is time to convert you into a saurian. It won’t solve all of your problems, but you deserve a body that is strong enough to keep up with your mind and will.”

“After all,” he continued, “that’s why we’re out here. I have a partial recipe for an elixir that works on goblins. Like the rest of us, they’re too weak. With any luck the four of us can find more stable reagents to complete the formula and help the goblins grow safely.”

“I suppose you’re r-right,” the kobold replied, shivering violently. “I d-didn’t want to take the time away from w-work to get used to a new body, but this one is just too frail. I guess, I just feel a bit uncomfortable g-giving up the scales I’ve worn for my entire-”

He stopped.

Barsa, Samazzar and Takkla’s eyes all jerked to Traxis. The kobold’s expression was vacant, mouth slack with awe. At some point he had stood up and turned to face the glittering snowfield behind them. Traxis took a single hesitant step away from the fire.

“Traxis-” Takkla began only for Samazzar to silence her with a single wave of his hand.

“Don’t interrupt him,” he whispered. “As much as he complains when we assign him work, Traxis is a genius of sorts. He’s having an epiphany right now.”

The apprentice took another step away from the fire, passing through Samazzar’s barrier and into the harsh cold beyond.

“It’s so beautiful,” the whisper escaped the kobold’s lips, inaudible to everyone Samazzar. “Glittering and shimmering. Pristine.”

Traxis stopped. His coat slipped from his shoulders, falling to the ground where it curled like a snake around his waist.

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He exhaled.

The cloud of mist froze instantly, a cloud of glittering crystals in front of his face. Traxis reached out with both hands, cupping the diamond sprinkle of ice in both of his claws.

Somehow, they didn’t thaw, instead absorbing the light and shining even brighter against his dull red scales. Traxis exhaled a second time, coating his hands with a thin layer of ice.

“Beautiful,” Traxis hissed, closing his eyes and shuddering.

Then, without warning, he collapsed into the snow. Samazzar was there in a second, wrapping him up in a cocoon of warm air even as he snatched his apprentice from the snow. When he turned back to the cave, there was a massive smile on his face.

“What mystery did he learn?” Takkla asked as Samazzar marched back into the cave, Tarxis over one shoulder and the kobold’s coat in his other hand. “That didn’t look like cold, flow, or oxygen.”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Samazzar said cheerfully. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“W-wonderful?” Barsa questioned. “H-how is that a good thing? You don’t even know what your apprentice is discovering.”

“But that’s what makes it so great,” Samazzar answered happily. “The core of the mysteries is learning. For the early levels, academies help guide students. With a talented enough faculty you can carefully train a crop of the dullest apprentices through a well documented path and turn them into middling practitioners, but that only works to a point. Eventually, the only thing that can carry on your studies is a zeal for learning the unknown. When Traxis wakes up, I will ask him what mystery he has learned. In all likelihood, it won’t be something useful to me, but that doesn’t mean I can discard it and forget it.”

“Every piece of knowledge helps for a practitioner,” he continued, bunching up Traxis’ coat and setting the kobold gently on top of it. “What he has learned today might spark a train of thought that carries me out of a dead end in a decade. By the same token, some aspect of the mysteries of fire or sound might help Tarxis advance when he plateaus. Every new discovery is exciting in and of itself. What master wouldn’t be thrilled to have such a skilled apprentice?”

“Crone Tazzaera,” Takkla said dryly. “You were even brighter than Tarxis at his age, but you were impossible to keep under control. I’ve heard her say that you’re the reason her scales began to go gray dozens of times.”

“She exaggerates,” Samazzar replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Half of her gray scales were there when we hatched from our eggs. I am only responsible for the other half.”

Takkla’s response was swallowed up as she sputtered and devolved into laughter. Barsa blinked in confusion glancing from one draconian to the other before eventually giving up on trying to understand them with a defeated shrug.

Tarxis stirred, eyes fluttering open as he suddenly gasped for breath. The kobold jerked upward, one claw grabbing his forehead while the other grasped futilely at the rocks to support himself as he wobbled uncertainly.

Samazzar grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping his apprentice from losing his balance and falling back onto the rocks.

“Easy now,” he said encouragingly. “You just went through a lot Tarxis. It’s no surprise that you’re feeling a little out of sorts. Give it a minute and it will pass.”

Tarxis groaned, leaning back into Samazzar’s hands as he buried his face in both of his claws. His scales were cold to the touch, and a quick touch of Samazzar’s mysteries revealed that his apprentice’s core temperature was lower than Barsa’s. He was more at risk of hypothermia than his shivering companion, yet Tarxis showed no signs of the cold affecting him.

Without comment, Samazzar pushed more heat toward the kobold. Tarxis may have been able to withstand the cold better due to his control over the mysteries, but that didn’t mean that his body had superhuman resilience. Just as a dragon could be burnt by a hot enough fire, it wasn’t healthy for Tarxis to take in too much cold.

“Refraction,” the apprentice replied, his voice quiet and reverent. “That’s the minor mystery I learned. How light reflects and bends when it hits another object. It’s like I can peer out from every snowflake and icicle. There’s so much information I-”

“Turn it off for now,” Samazzar said decisively. “You’ll experience the same thing once you learn the noble mystery of wind. It’s heady and overwhelming. Both Takkla and I were crippled by migraines for weeks at a time when we were learning how to control the sensory overload from the magic. We don’t have time for that at the moment, but as soon as we get back, I’ll introduce you to exercises to help you split and expand your focus.”

Tarxis groaned, releasing his head and planting his hands on either side of his body. Samazzar released him and the kobold slumped a bit, but barely managed to hold himself upright.

“That sounds like it's going to be difficult and painful,” Tarxis whined, forehead scales scrunching. Samazzar patted his apprentice on the head, unable to help himself as the tiny kobold fretted.

“It is,” Takkla responded. “But it’s worth it. Between my bloodline sight and the wind, I can see almost a league. Whenever I’m in the air, I feel like an eagle, free and in command of everything I can spot. The early levels of the mysteries are a miserable slog, but listen to Samazzar. As annoying and self assured as he can be, he will drag you with him to heights that you didn’t even know existed.”

Barsa began coughing suddenly, a sound that had nothing to do with his exposure to the cold. Even without the wind, Samazzar could see the ghost of the smile tugging at the corner of his subordinate’s lips.

“That’s enough for now,” he said with a sigh. “I’m proud of Tarxis, but we’re still in the middle of a surveying expedition. The two of you need to rest and recover. After all, we’re all going to have to push our way through the snow again in a bit. Unless you want to freeze and collapse a second time, you should concentrate on gathering your strength.”

The rest of the day passed smoothly. After an hour the four of them began their trek again, following Takkla’s directions toward a promising valley. The cold and thin air became much more tolerable as they descended from the high mountain pass, and by the time they made up camp for the night, all four of them were panting from exertion.

At some point, the dry icy bite of the air was replaced by a humid blanket of choking warmth. Foliage sprouted from the ground, but none of them were the stately conifers and oaks that dotted the foothills. Instead, it was all low creeping trees that dangled moss and vines over the uneven and squishy ground that formed the floor of the valley.

They retreated a bit up the mountain toward where the ground was rockier and more stable before setting up their campsite, leaving to explore their find with the first light.

“Ugh,” Barsa broke the silence, lifting his leg up out of the brackish pool he had accidentally stepped into. Brown mud and unidentifiable detritus stuck to his scales. “A swamp. We survived a hostile mountain pass only to find a swamp. By the mysteries, I can’t see the bottom of any of these puddles. For all I know, the next one is going to be well over my head.”

“You are short,” Samazzar mused, pushing aside a curtain of vines and climbing up onto one of the mire’s few dry areas to inspect some toadstools growing out of the side of a rotting tree. “So that does appear to be a concern. I haven’t asked, but how good are you at swimming? It might become abruptly important.”

“What are you looking at, master?” Tarxis asked, stepping onto the mossy island with him while Barsa sputtered unhappily. “Are the fungi something useful?”

“Duke’s Crown,” Samazzr answered with a nod. “A medium strength reagent that will lessen the negative aspects of an alchemical compound while not decreasing its efficacy. I’ve worked with plenty of more expensive components in Vereton, but I can’t let myself grow spoiled. For someone without bottomless resources, this is a tremendous find.”

“Same with the crimson tip ferns, and harlan’s creeper vines,” he continued happily, ignoring Barsa’s theatrics. “This swamp is practically a priceless herb garden. I suspect that many independent practitioners don’t have access to reagents half as impressive as what we’ve found here, and the three of us have only been searching for five hours. At this rate, we’ll need to set up a colony out here to gather medicinal plants full time.”

“Wow,” Tarxis replied, eyes wide as he leaned forward to look at the toadstools. “I didn’t realize that this place was such a treasure trove. There aren’t even any predators, all we’ve found so far are a bunch of swamp bores. It’s almost like this valley is too good-”

“No,” Barsa cut in, waving his claws wildly. “Absolutely do not finish that sentence and put a hex on us.”

“-to be true,” Tarxis trailed off, casting a confused glance at the other kobold.

Samazzar’s head jerked upward as the wind carried news of a disturbance. A second later, the mystery of sound confirmed it. A cacophony of wings beat through the air to the west.

Takkla was rushing through the air toward them, body straining and stealth abandoned as she sought to move as fast as physically possible. Behind her were a pair of green reptiles, each at least four times her size and flying on wings that seemed to blot out the sun. From their smooth armless torsos to the wicked stinger on the tips of their tails, Samazzar took in the entire scene in a fraction of a second.

“Green wyverns!” He exclaimed excitedly. “I knew that there must be an apex predator living here.”

“Are you going to fight them?” Barsa shouted. “Now isn’t the time for a sudden fit of insanity Samazzar!”

“Of course not,” Samazzar replied, eyes gleaming. “After all, Dussok isn’t here. Killing them right now would be an unforgivable waste.”