The cold, steel hilt of the fighter’s sword stung the Dragonborn’s face as it knocked him to the ground. Pages from the victim’s book scattered as he fell to his back.
“Puny Shozar,” the towering brute taunted. “Pick up a sword like a real Dragonborn, you suorra (the Draconic word for baby).” He looked around at his chuckling accomplices and grinned as his massive ego was stoked like like the billows on a forge.
Rubbing the sore spot on his copper-scaled face, the scholar shot an angry glare at his attacker. “Scoff at knowledge then, Versvesh. Ignorance suits you.”
The crowd’s laughing died away as the red lizardman scowled at Shozar. With a whack from the flat of his sword, Versvesh drew a line of blood from the sitting sage’s face and the laughing erupted once more. Shozar’s scowl returned as he met Versvesh’s gaze, but kept his mouth shut as the sting of the weapon resonated the lesson that came from taunting someone so much larger than himself.
“Go ahead, librarian. Shout at me. Call for your master so he can punish me for beating up his weak little helper. They aren’t going to hear you out here on the road, so far from your precious library.” Versvesh knelt close to Shozar’s face, the heat from his fiery dragon breath threatening the smaller Dragonborn. “Besides, if they do hear of this little talk, our next one won’t be so pretty.”
Shozar’s eyes narrowed as he met Versvesh’s glare. With another laugh, the fighter stood and kicked his prey knocking him prone. He strode away toward the city, the long tendrils on the back of his head falling over the shoulder pad of his armor as he turned about. His friends in tow, the bully called out behind him, “Goodbye, little one. We’ll be seeing you again the next time you venture out of the city.” His final statement was as much a threat as a promise.
The defeated Shozar casually stood and dusted off his navy-colored, silky robes. He was used to this type of behavior. Worse than that, he had even begun to expect it anytime he ventured outside the walls of the city. It was common in his tribe’s culture for those compelled by knowledge to be picked on and disparaged by stronger members. After all, a weak Dragonborn would cast an unwanted image on the Vokrii and fighters like Versvesh weren’t about to let that happen.
“Versvesh again?” A familiar voice caused Shozar to look over his shoulder in start.
“Ah, Quogan. Yes, it was the typical knuckle-dragger this time.”
“When are you going to learn to limit your trips to library outings?”
Shozar shook his head and grinned. “Free time is not granted on those field trips. If I am to gain any knowledge from outside the Vokrii walls, it must be done independent of the library.”
Quogan looked around sarcastically. “What is there to learn? We inhabit the entire island.”
“That thinking is what is going to give me the advantage in our competition for the library Maekrix.”
“I don’t believe there is much of a competition, Shozar. The Master has already expressed a strong interest in you.”
Shozar spread his hands in the air as if he were opening a banner. “Vokrii Shozar the Knowledge Seeker,” Shozar said with a smile.
“Dream all you want, friend, but we’ll be the ones giving you the title. You may just as well end up Vokrii Shozar the Book Stacker.”
The two shared a laugh as they began making their way back toward the city. Their conversation was light but meaningful as they worked through the details of the days to come. The quest for knowledge is not accomplished in a day, and a scholar’s planning and duties are perpetual. There are tomes that need read, books that need written, and mysteries that need to be unraveled.
Shozar stared reverently through the glass ceiling from inside the offices of the Vokrii Library, the bright moonlight casting his shadow on the still marble floor. The architecture of the tribe was something many of its inhabitants marveled at and rightly took pride in. White, squared walls were accented with gray stone, and their roof corners were adorned with ivory shaped like the teeth of the creatures of their lineage: Dragons. The glass ceiling to these offices came from the hexagonal walls to a point at the center where a majestic sculpture of a dragon sat.
Shozar looked on at the model for that sculpture now. Resting atop the mountain on which the library sat was the great dragon, Vokraxx, the stars in the night sky his backdrop. His giant white abdomen rose and descended as the mighty creature carried on its millennial slumber. The white hue of its skin gave those fortunate enough to gaze on it a false impression of the creature. Though its cousins of the same color were notorious for the chaos and destruction they wrought, Vokraxx favored justice and order.
I am charged with a great responsibility, Shozar thought as he watched Vokraxx sleep. The Vokrii bloodline could be traced back to the dragon, who established the tribe to watch over its slumber with a legendary dragonborn of the same color. Its library contained many secrets entrusted by the ancient being to the Order of Vokrii Scholars, to which Shozar belonged. This was a task that weighed heavily on the Dragonborn’s shoulders.
After many moments of wonder, Shozar finally returned to the task at hand. His shadow danced on the wall outside of the domed office, cast by the dim candlelight from the sconces on the walls. The only sound in the silent room, the soft shuffle of his padded footsteps mixed with the intermittent tapping of claws hitting the hard tile.
I’ve perused all of the tomes on Drow, Shozar thought as he scanned a bookshelf with his hands clasped behind his back. Perhaps I should find something that has not been read for some time. After studying the room for a moment, his eyes fixated on the only corner that received no light. He smiled as he grabbed a candle from the candelabra next to him and made his way into the corner.
The scholar tapped his chin as he looked over the unfamiliar titles. Shozar didn’t excite for much, but the prospect of finding a book that Quogan hadn’t read was making his nerves tingle. “The Behaviors and Gestation of Slaadi?” he said with a raised brow as came across a title of interest. With a grin he pulled the work from its shelf. As he turned to walk away and opened the book, he heard the tinking sound of an object falling next to him. Holding the candle out, he saw an odd crystalline object fastened to a leather necklace.
Odd. Shozar picked up the object and held it toward the sky to get a better look at it. A faint purplish glow shown across his face as he inspected it. At first he thought it an illusion, but after losing the glow when he pulled it into a shadow, he understood that it wasn’t. What an interesting trinket. I must investigate its purpose when the time is available. He slid the necklace on, slid it into his robes, and found a table to study his newfound tome.
The hours ticked by in silence as the Dragonborn sat alone reading on the frog race from another realm. Many facts from the book shocked and amazed him. Magic gems that control their minds… Astounding. After reaching the chapter on their gestation, and particularly how they emerge from their host as infants, Shozar became squeamish and paused from his studies. He shuffled silently to his gazing spot in the moonlight of the domed ceiling to digest the wealth of information he had just attained.
A smile spread across his face once more as he looked on at Vokraxx. He knew the knowledge on the curious race would likely never serve for more than just knowledge that he possessed over Quogan, but he couldn’t help but feel a little accomplished in learning it. As his mind wandered through the information and his gaze absently sat on the sleeping dragon, a movement in the distance snatched his attention.
“Wha.. wha… V… Vokraxx?!” The scholar could hardly find the words as he saw the dragon’s head shifting slightly. He had remained unmoving as long as Shozar had remembered, and now he was present for the dragon’s changing of positions. But there was something more to this event. Something he would never have imagined in his wildest dreams.
The dragon’s giant blue eye slid from behind its lid and fixated on the city. His gaze wasn’t shifting, it wasn’t searching, it had locked on its target; it locked on Shozar! The quiet scholar was thrown into a fit of convulsions as the dragon stared on at him. He tried to scream, but no sound would find his lips. After what felt like an eternity, he was thrown to the ground.
Shozar laid still for quite some time after the shocking event. He wasn’t sure what had happened, all he knew was that he felt as if his blood had turned to ice. No. It was more than that. It was as if an icy spirit had awakened inside of him. When his thoughts finally returned to him, he sat up and looked at his palms as if he could see what had happened splayed across them.
“What was that?” was all the sage could find to say. He finally shifted his gaze back to Vokraxx who had returned to his slumber. After closing his gaping maw for the first time since the encounter, Shozar looked back at his hands and began rolling them over. Then he saw something he didn’t expect: A single white scale stood out against the copper background on his wrist. All he could manage was a look of confusion. No thoughts; no words.
At the sudden sound of footsteps in the stairwell, he turned his frightened gaze on the door. After running the rare tome back to its spot, he slid his hands into the large sleeves of his robe and quickly rushed past the stunned patrons of the library. He feared what others might think if they discovered his oddity. Not knowing how to process the events of the day, he returned to his room, locked the door, and turned in for the day. His duties would have to wait.
Days had passed and Shozar had managed to stay away from those who knew him, keeping his studies to the night while others slept. He knew he couldn’t hide forever, but right now that didn’t matter. The solitude he had, however temporary, was providing him comfort while he sorted this out.
The scholar bent down and studied a rare flower as he jotted notes in his book alongside his sketch of the plant. “Wormflower. Its enticing scent would make a fine perfume, but if collected correctly, could create a potent poison.” He smiled at the completion of the record before clapping the book closed. The joyful expression quickly turned sour as the sight of the back of his hand reminded him of the reason for his self-exile. He knew he needed to look into the cause of the spreading pigmentation of his scales, but if he was honest with himself, he would say he feared the results the investigation may bring.
“Well, look who we have here.” Shozar shoved his hand into his sleeve as he heard the familiar voice behind him. “If it isn’t the suorra out of the city on his own again.”
“Versvesh,” the scholar said through gritted teeth.
“You say that like you didn’t miss me, Shozar. Don’t go hurting my feelings now.”
Shozar’s demeanor remained challenging, but his thoughts went into a panic. Should he run or would that make things worse? The last Vokrii he wanted to discover his problem was Versvesh. If he found out the whole tribe would know before the days end, if the sage lived to care about it. Any excuse the fighter could use to add fuel to his tormenting, he would.
Shozar ran a claw down the healing mark on his cheek from their last encounter to use the reminder to give him courage. He wouldn’t run. Not this time.
This time he would fight.
Seeing his target’s expression shift to anger and his hands double into fists, Versvesh cried out in laughter. “What are you going to do, librarian? Hit me?” His laughter stopped abruptly as he drew his sword from its scabbard. “C’mon then.”
As Shozar fought his fear and drew back to launch a punch, a sharp, fiery object burst through the front of Versvesh’s chest. The two Dragonborn looked at each other in shock before the fighter fell to the ground lifeless. As his body dropped, the attacker came into view. A small, flying fire demon laughed wickedly. Its visage with sharp features, a long nose, orange skin, and jagged teeth played on the scholar’s fear.
Shozar turned and ran with all of his might, and the fire mephit gave chase. The large-leafed plants rustled as the dragonborn flew by, shadows from the overhead leaves rushing over his body. Shozar felt his heart racing, terror gripping his every thought. If this creature could put down the hulking Versvesh, a scholar like him stood little chance.
Shozar looked back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his pursuer as he emerged from the tall foliage. He slid to a stop and teetered as he felt the ground beneath him come to a point. The terror gripping him magnified as he looked back ahead and noticed he was standing on the edge of a cliff. Sharp rocks speckled the shore below, waves washing over them with intensity.
The scholar looked back just in time to see the mephit emerge from the forest. It looked about and locked in on Shozar with an evil grin. As it flew toward him, he threw out his palm and covered his face with his other sleeve. A cold sensation shot through him, starting at his heart and extending out past his hand.
Shozar shivered in fear for a moment before realizing he hadn’t been attacked. He worked up the courage and looked over his arm with one eye closed and his teeth clenched. Scattered about the ground were frozen shards with orange cores. It became immediately obvious that something had frozen his attacker. What happened?
First looking over the corpse then the surrounding area, Shozar was filled with curiosity. He poked at an icy chunk of flesh. Did I do this? That was when he noticed his hand. The spread of his white hue had exacerbated dramatically. His whole hand was now white, front and back, and his claws had turned a sapphire blue. Shozar’s eyes went wide, and he quickly covered it back up.
“I must visit Master Aak,” Shozar said as he scooped up a frozen piece of demon and rushed back toward the city. He wanted desperately to keep his secret, but too much was at stake now. Knowledge from an elder was essential, and that meant he would need to share his dilemma to discern what exactly the dilemma was.
The scholar panted as he pressed on. He pulled his sleeve back and looked down at his arm while keeping his pace and blanched. Snow white pigmentation crept up his arm at a visibly accelerated rate. Shozar’s veins were freezing, and he couldn’t tell the effect was a result of his shock, a figment of his imagination, or a side effect of this disease… or whatever it was. He picked up his pace in desperation.
A startling scream from inside the town walls ahead made Shozar slide to a halt. What could possibly be happening now? He snuck up to one of the giant, wooden gates that led into the city, once an impressive door with an ornate depiction of Vokraxx embossed onto it in silver, it was now hanging on its hinges. He peaked around into the town and his jaw dropped as he felt his heart sink further.
Dozens of demons just like the one he had just slain were flying about attacking villagers and causing havoc. Shozar wondered for a moment how the well-protected Vokrii could be struggling so hard against something he killed so quickly. As one of the soldiers ran past, he could quickly see why. A giant, red-scaled brute with a massive blade was swinging wildly as one of the mephits buzzed around him effortlessly, an occasional flame blast striking out at the dragonborn.
They’re nearly impossible to hit. The scholar looked over in time to see a handful of the creatures gather together, a young and eager warrior gazing at them from behind some toppled barrels ready to strike. The dragonborn leapt from his hiding spot and took in a deep breath. He pursed his lips and exhaled a fountain of flame, consuming the creatures entirely. The warrior stood back with his chest stuck out in victory, but he quickly deflated when the flames dissipated and all of the mephits remained unharmed.
The demons snickered at him and took off in pursuit. Once eager, and ready to earn his tribe name, the dragonborn flailed his arms wildly and ran away.
Shozar was aghast. How could he have killed one of these creatures so easily when the best fighters in the city couldn’t handle them. He looked down at his hand, a frosty feeling coursing through him, and came to his conclusion.
But how? Shozar didn’t mean to blast the last one. How was he going to do it intentionally now? He held his hand out before him, hoping to send another ice shard flying… to no avail. “Come on, come on.” Another scream from inside the gates drew his attention away. He looked back into the city and saw three mephits pulling the tendrils of a mother trying to rush away with her child in hand.
Shozar knew he needed to do something, but he froze, his claws digging into the side of the gate and fear clutching at his chest. Then he saw his library in the distance behind the mother. His mind rushed back to when he got accepted into the ranks of the scholarly, and his first day at the world-renowned library. The Vokrii had so many charges: a wealth of ancient and modern knowledge, protection for Vokraxx as he slept, and their community. Visions of his precious library burning to the ground pushed him into action.
The scholar rushed toward the struggling mother. He grabbed a broom from the doorstep of a nearby house and swatted one of the attackers from the sky. As he drew back to strike another, the remaining two turned their gazes on him in anger, and he stopped. In an instant, they had grabbed his arms, holding them back, and the broom bounced helplessly into the dirt below.
The demon that Shozar whacked shook his head to regain its senses, then turned an angry glare on its assailant. It flew up into the air and whistled, drawing more of its kind to it and talked to them in some form of demoniac language. Their high-pitched voices would have been humorous in another setting. Right now, Shozar could only look on in terror.
Shozar had no options. He looked to his hands and struggled to pull them free, but he had no way of utilizing them, even if he could figure out how to blast the creatures. Breathing fire on them before had proven ineffective for warrior… but maybe that would give him the distraction he needed.
The scholar took in a deep breath and paused as he raised a brow. Typically, his nostrils burned as if he was intaking hot ash when he prepared a breath attack. This was a different sensation. With bulging cheeks, the dragonborn smiled.
The demons turned their attention to Shozar, apparently having finished deliberating. As they bore down on him, they were met with an icy blast. Shozar blew his frosty breath in an arc from side to side, covering the mephits in ice and sending them plummeting to their shattering death in the dirt.
The two demons holding Shozar’s arms looked on in shock as pieces of their brethren slid about the ground beneath them. They immediately released their captive, and flew off into the sky.
Shozar smiled, a course of adrenaline and courage reinvigorating him. He puffed out his chest and exclaimed awkwardly to the mother watching helplessly from beside a nearby house, “Never fear, ma’am. Shozar shall defeat these demons.” He noticed her shocked expression, thinking for a moment that his deeds had won her affection. Her face looks as white as… In terror he pulled his sleeve back, then looked down his collar. Me!
The white pigment had nearly covered the dragonborn’s entire body and was now creeping up his neck. He looked up to the library. I must seek counsel with Master Aak. The visions of a burning library with dragonborn bodies strewn about the grounds returned to his mind, and he set in a look of determination. No. First, I excise the demons and save the Vokrii.
Shozar rushed toward the remaining few mephits. Perhaps the Vokrii will excuse my appearance if I am able to relinquish the city from the demons’ control. He shook his head. The ever-thinking scholar would have to put his thoughts to rest for the moment.
When Shozar came close to a mephit running its tongue along the hay to a barn and setting it ablaze, he stopped and trained his hands on it. He focused hard on his hands, trying desperately to will the ice to shoot out from them. For what seemed like an eternity nothing happened, and Shozar’s countenance darkened. How was he going to figure this out? What was the source of this power?
The scholar’s mind trailed back to his initial blast. He had felt the power welling from within him; from within his core. Closing his sky blue eyes, he focused, and thought, and felt something… cold stir inside him. Taking hold of the chill, he forced it into his chest, then his shoulder, then his arm, then… he opened his eyes, and a bolt of ice struck the demon as he forced the power out of his hand.
“Woo!” Shozar leapt with joy. The wonders he would discover now. But again, those thoughts would have to wait. He turned his attention back to the city with a grin, frost drifting into the air through his teeth.
For the next few moments, the screams throughout the town shifted from that of dragonborns to the high-pitched, otherworldly squeals of dying demons. When the sound died down, the city’s inhabitants were hesitant to approach Shozar at first, staring in a semi-circle quietly at their hero, the now-fully-white, quiet scholar from the library.
Shozar stood like a statue, unsure of what to think or do. Then a young dragonborn stepped from the crowd, drawing a hushed gasp and the attention of the town. She stared for a moment then leapt and shouted, “Yay! Vokrii Shozar!” Instantly the crowd broke into a roar of cheering and rushed in, hugging the scholar.
Shozar was barraged with pats, rubs, and pokes from the crowd. In truth, he wanted to like the attention, but in reality, he was just ready for it to end so he could return to his studies, and explore this newfound power growing inside him. Amongst the bumps and cheers and smacks, he looked back down at his white palms and smiled.
A dragonborn stood regally before Shozar on a stone dais lit by a high skylight, his hands behind his back and his head held high. His once-bright-green scales had dulled to a minty color, and the tendrils on his chin had grown long in his many years, but he had the composure of one nearly half his age. He swept his arm out toward Shozar, and the wide sleeves to his robes drifted behind in kind.
“You have made the keepers of the Vokrii library proud, Shozar. When our city was in peril, you answered the call that no one else could. It is here before your peer, that I am overjoyed to honor you with your Vokrii name.”
Shozar bowed his head. “Thank you, Master Aak.” The scholar stole a glance behind him at his friend, Quogan, and gave him a grin. Where many other races and tribes hold elaborate ceremonies with several witnesses, the Vokrii have a different focus. While their minds are always on their community as a whole, their ceremonies remain intimate, preferring their work to support the Vokrii clan in its entirety instead of providing emotional support to the individual. Which was okay with Shozar. He had all he needed in his solitary witness.
“It is with great pride and honor that I bestow upon you your title,” Master Aak went on. “Vokrii Shozar the Beastslayer.”
Shozar’s eyes went wide as his head remained bowed. Beastslayer? He was grateful to finally earn a name for himself, but Beastslayer? That is the name that he would be remembered with in his tribe? In many civilizations a name is nothing more than something to speak in reference to a person, but in the Vokrii, the name you were given meant more. Your name was tied to your identity, your credentials, and your legacy.
Shozar, ever the student and scholar, completely expected his name to reflect his academic nature. Vokrii Shozar the Mind, the Scholar, or the Scribe. Heck he would have even settled for Vokrii Shozar the White! Beastslayer? That belonged to a soldier!
“Thank you, Master Aak. Zyak shaik valome. (So it shall be.)”
“You are truly worthy of leading the keepers of Vokrii knowledge.” Master Aak’s words made Shozar’s stomach flutter. Was it really happening? Would he be named Maekrix?
Master Aak went on, “To begin your apprenticeship, I bestow upon you this scroll.” He drew a rolled-up piece of parchment from inside his sleeve and handed it to Shozar. “It is sealed and should remain so until the appropriate time. You will know when that moment has come. In the meantime, you are to begin acquiring your contribution of knowledge to the Vokrii library, so you may attain the prestigious position of Maekrix. You are to travel to the newly-discovered isle of Kaol. A boat leaving for the location is putting out within the hour. May Vokraxx guide your path.”
Shozar bowed once more, somewhat deflated but hopeful, and turned to leave. Quogan stood with his hands behind his back, obviously fighting to hide a grin. Shozar bared his teeth at him and walked out of the room, the only sound his padded feet shuffling across the floor and the large door creaking to a shut.
The scholar said his goodbyes to what few friends he had, gathered his belongings, and got on the boat long before departure time. He spent a few moments cataloging the events in his journal, and the remainder he spent on deck, staring out into the sea. As the boat left harbor, the salty mist on his face and the cool breeze reminded him of his heritage. He looked to the sleeping giant atop the mountain and felt humbly grateful for the journey he had set Shozar on.