I Alone Breed Dragons

Chapter 49: An Old Friend

The sun had set. Night crawled over the village.

The nights breeze washed over me, cool and relaxing, as I strode down town. I had left home to see the bustling market, which at this time was still running. I wanted to take a look before going after Baran tonight.

As I strode by houses, my hands in my pocket, I strode past some faces I didn’t recognize, or didn’t want to. I kept walking.

Then, I heard a voice calling from behind. "Walter?"

I paused. The voice was familiar, very familiar. His name instantly popped up in my head from hearing his voice once more.

Randall? He was my childhood friend. We’d grown up together, knowing everything about each other, having a lot in common.

He strode up to me with a smile, gave me a huge hug. I was hesitant to accept, my hands still in my pocket. "Good to see you once more," Randall replied, thumping me on my back.

He pulled away from the hug, still holding my arms. "I actually thought you were dead," he sighed in relief.

"Where you heading to?"

"The market," I bobbed my chin toward the direction.

"Oh, okay, sure. I’ll escort you. I’m headed that way."

We continued our walk to the market, Randall escorting me. We walked in silence for some minutes.

Approaching closer to the market, its lights and stalls were getting more visible from where we were.

"You’re more silent," he said, scrutinizing me.

"How?"

"You always have something to complain about, or talk about, whether it was the dragons, or your boss, or... anything. Now you’re silent. What’s wrong?"

"I guess I don’t have anything to talk about." It wasn’t a lie, but I felt like the burdens I was carrying, sharing with Randall wouldn’t solve them. Just because I was back in my village, walking down the street, didn’t mean my life returned to normal. I had things to do, a mission to complete, and it was all getting complicated. Another worldly race now wants me dead, for reasons that aren’t fully clear.

Randall studied my face closer, then shrugged. "If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, don’t have to lie. Besides, I’m not sure I’d even be of help if you did, so it’s fine. You keep it to yourself."

I shook my head. "Fool." It came out offhandedly, as a joke rather than an insult.

"What? At least I’m being honest. But is it true?" Randall nudged me.

I already knew what was coming, the very lies Baran had spread.

"Randall, what Baran said is half truth."

"Which part is true, you running away, or you impregnating a dragon."

"The latter."

Randall grinned, didn’t speak, just gazed at me with a knowing grin.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes on him.

"Nothing." He put his arms behind his head and kept walking, this time ahead of me.

"Randall?"

"What?"

"What did you want to say?"

He kept on grinning. "Nothing."

"Tsk. Don’t make me force you." I quickened my steps.

Randall then threw his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I’ll say it..."

"You’re officially the father of a race you once said you hate the most." Randall then laughed. "I guess this dragon was too beautiful, you forgot she was one."

"You bastard." I jerked Randall down, locking his head in my arm, keeping my grip careful not to hurt him. Yet Randall decided to mock me.

"Ahhh! Stop, you’re breaking my skull. You’re too strong, ahhh!"

"You sure do know how to get on my nerves," I said.

He roared with laughter once more, then sighed. "Still, good to have you back."

My grip released from him. "Randall, I’m not staying. I’ll be leaving soon."

"What? You’re not staying? What’s the matter? Tell me."

"..."

"Did your in-laws make you live with them? Damn, that’s bad luck."

"Can’t you be serious for once?"

"Well, if you stop being mysterious, then sure, I would."

"Are you sure?" I moved in closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. "What I’m about to say to you must not come out of your mouth. No one must hear about it, more importantly, any of my family."

Randall gazed at me with a bored expression. "You’re still acting mysterious, brother."

"Agreed?"

"Okay, if you say so." Randall said. His playful demeanor then dropped. "What is it?"

"A new race wants me dead."

Randall gazed at me, speechless. "I know you don’t tell jokes, that’s what’s making this more scary, Walter. What do you mean, a new race?"

"You know, goblins—"

"Of course I do, from tales, where we were told... don’t tell me they exist too?"

I dipped my chin.

"And they want you dead."

I dipped my chin once more.

Randall then embraced me, unexpected. He clapped my head. He was way taller than me, which made it seem I was younger, but it was the opposite.

"I’ll miss you," Randall said, with an apologetic tone, as if he was mourning my death already.

"Are you still joking, Randall?" I pushed him off me.

"What? If goblins exist, that means they have magic. I don’t have any. I’ll be slaughtered easier than a chicken. I don’t know how I can save you."

"I can use magic, and I never asked for your protection."

"Repeat what you said again. I think my ears failed."

I rolled my eyes. "You don’t believe—" I conjured ice around my palm, showing it to him.

He gazed at the ice, then at me. "The dragon queen gave you her blood? How is that... wait, is the dragon queen your mother-in-law?"

"No, and stop making stupid assumptions. I awakened magic on my own."

"That isn’t possible, right?"

"For others it isn’t. For me it was, because of my bloodline. And I can give you magic, Randall."

He gazed at me with pure astonishment at my words.

"Using the same method, I’ll have to drink your blood."

For the first time, he sounded serious. Until...

"Your blood is going to taste awful. Besides, I’m not a vampire, and you know in the tales, vampires drink females’ blood, cause it’s their way of consorting. So if I was a vampire, I would still not drink your blood, cause that would be an abomination."

"Randall," my voice hardened.

"Okay, fine. Even if you give me magic, what do I use it for?"

"To protect this village, of course. Baran isn’t around, also he would be dead for selling me like a slave."

"Baran sold you?" Randall’s jaw dropped.

"Yes, that’s a story for another day, Randall. My point is, when I’m gone, I need someone who’s behind to protect our people, my family. With the way things are moving for me, I don’t know who to trust, and I need someone I can trust with my life. That person is you." I placed my fist to his chest. "Can you do it for me?"

"If you put it to me like that, how would I refuse?" He smiled. "Sure, I’d help, but... you’ll need to teach me. I don’t think magic can be self-taught."

"Of course I will." I slipped my hand back into my pockets.

Just as our little promise was made, we resumed our trip to the market. Here, he pulled out a wineskin bottle. "Let’s toast to magic," he gulped, then passed it to me.

I accepted it grudgingly, then took a mouthful, and it tasted awful compared to the wine I’d been taking. I choked, almost spitting it out, before forcing a swallow.

"What? Can’t hold your wine now?"

"It tastes awful."

"Good for you."

Just a few steps taken, we heard a loud gunshot from the market, followed by screams. I froze. Randall beside me, we exchanged glances.

That was a gunshot, a hunter’s gun. It had to be bandits. Without magic, guns were their means to threaten people, to rob. It wasn’t a surprise, noting how busy the market was; the amount of coins flowing in during hundreds of transactions would easily attract bandits. If I clearly remember, this has to be the first of its kind. Bandits’ attack on my village.

People ran, taking cover in their homes. We stood as the commotion and stampede of people passed by.

Randall stepped back. "Should we turn back?" pulling my sleeve.

"No, we’re going to welcome our visitors." I shoved forward through the panic, straight to the market. Hardening my fist as ice encased it.