Avon sighed. The capitol was far noisier than expected. Mother and father told him stories of their time at court of course, but stories were never a substitute for the real thing. He received an overhead view on his way into the city from the back of Gerrion. His familiar provided an excellent means of locomotion.

Gerrion was a colossal creature of avian design; sleek gray and white feathers line the body of a mighty raptor, his electric blue eyes revealing a hint towards his capabilities. The creation of Gerrion was, in Avon’s opinion, his current crowning achievement.

Walking through the cobble streets, Avon could not help but compare the Capitol to the lands of his house. Darrowpeak, his ancestral home, had fallen far. What was once a beautiful mountain fortress, was now a shell of its former self. Although the mountaintop itself had not collapsed, the halls and chambers that littered it had. Once majestic stonework and filigree carved out of the walls to make good on debts.

The many servants employed by his family had all been laid off, and the villages surrounding them were growing decrepit. It was his family’s charity that had led to their poverty in the first place. Giving too much for no gain, not exactly a standard trait amongst noble houses. Still, Avon couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with the actions of his ancestors. Living in an empty castle with nothing but his parents and spiderwebs for company put life’s meaning into perspective. People were what really mattered; wealth and power were just a means to an end, but a means that he sorely needed right now. Men, women, and children under his family’s purview were suffering, he wouldn’t be able to call himself a Darrow if he did nothing about it.

Then again, that was why he was here. The last of his families good will had been used to earn himself the chance to petition the King. Asking for a loan from the royal treasury was certainly something he could do, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. House Darrow had gotten themselves into this mess, and house Darrow would get themselves out of it. All that was needed was an opportunity. First though, he needed to find accommodations for the night.

Twenty minutes of searching yielded an inn that was willing to charge him nothing but a few coppers, stable space for Gerrion included. The homey atmosphere of the inn contrasted greatly with the stained floors and dust covered walls. His bed sheets were at least clean enough, though he couldn’t help but wish for something nicer. Avon sighed and deposited what little he had brought with him. Some spare clothes and materials to maintain his arms and armor.

A groan left his mouth as he settled into bed, he loved to fly, but his saddle was terribly uncomfortable over long distances. He turned over onto his side and reached for the candle, ignoring the lump of his coin purse under his pillow with practiced ease. Candle extinguished Avon allowed himself to sink fully into the uncomfortable straw of his bedding. The next day was sure to be challenging, but he knew he could handle it, for now though, he would sleep.

The next morning went by quickly, cricks in his back and bland porridge serving as excellent motivators. Waving Gerrion and the innkeeper goodbye, Avon once more returned to the streets. Though he was unfamiliar with the city, he would truly have to be a fool to miss the palace. Beautifully carved marble with striations of all colors made up the bulk of the complex, the enormity of its construction compounded even further by the great belfry that sat at the palace’s peak. Avon felt his nerves creep up on him as he approached, but swiftly pushed them back down, he could not allow himself falter.

At the palace’s entrance were a platoon of guardsman. The purple and white of their gambesons proudly displayed to all their loyalty to the crown. Taking note of his presence, the guardsmen were swift in confronting him.

“You, there! State your name, reason for visiting, and any titles if you hold them.”

“I am Avon Darrow, heir to Darrowpeak, here to petition the king.”

“Darrowpeak, it has been some time since we have had the …pleasure of receiving such a guest. One from a family as great as yours will of course be allowed entrance. One of my guardsmen will act as your escort, do try your best not to get lost.”

Avon ignored the snide remark from the guard captain, passing by the snarling lion familiar at his side as he walked through the gate. At the captain’s gesture, one of the purple garbed men behind him peeled off from their file and fell in step with him. Giving the man a nod, Avon slowed his gait slightly and allowed him to take the lead.

The guard led Avon through the outer gardens and into the interior of the palace, vibrant greens giving way to colors no less vibrant as he entered the marble hallways. The warm summer breeze followed him inside, blowing pale blond locks across a sharp and angular face. Minutes passed as Avon made his way closer and closer to the throne room. His father had always described the king as a jovial man, Avon just hoped that still held true.

Echoing footsteps soon found themselves overpowered by the din of a crowd as the doors to the throne room came into view. Nobles of all stripes and colors stood in throngs outside the massive entry way. Just like everything else in the palace, the doors were exceptionally large. It seemed impractical to him, but he was in no position to judge.

A handful of knights in full plate stood watch in front of the oaken portal, narrowed eyes peering out from within their helms.

“Ser Maccen, I present Lord Avon Darrow. He is here on an appointment with the King. If you would allow him entry, it would be much appreciated.”

The knight, that he now knew to be Ser Maccen, said nothing and instead nodded his head slowly. Two of his fellows stepped into line behind him and placed metal clad hands upon the great doors, and with a mighty heave they opened. Avon trailed behind the form of Ser Maccen as he entered the throne room, the place where the future of his people would be decided.

Plush purple carpet cushioned his every step as he approached the dais that held his King. Sitting on his resplendent throne, King Cygon gazed imperiously down at Avon, amber eyes meeting his own steel gray. At the base of the steps, he kneeled deeply and bowed his head, already Avon could tell that the king was far different than his father’s recollections.

“Avon of Darrowpeak, I have been expecting you for some time now. When your mother and father started to make moves politically for the first time in over a decade, I knew to expect the arrival of their heir. Now, rise so that we may begin our conversation.”

Avon did as his King commanded and stood tall. A million and one thoughts danced through his head as he prepared himself, thoughts that found themselves interrupted as a chuff of hot air washed over his head. Swiftly, he threw is head up to look amongst the ceiling beams. Directly above him, lazily resting its head, was a scarred white dragon. Sensing his growing panic, the king on his throne let out a great booming laugh.

“What’s the matter boy! I know for a fact that your father’s familiar takes the same shape as my own, so what has you in such a fright.”

“Ah, well, my own father’s dragon hardly compares to beast of this size your highness. It must have truly been the work of a lifetime to craft such a specimen.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me boy. I know that you have come to my court to make a petition, one that I generously allow you to make without the watchful eyes of any eager upstarts. Now, speak your peace, I am quite interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“My king, I Avon heir to Darrowpeak do so ask for the opportunity to perform a task of your choosing. On my own honor, I will see any task I am given through to the end.”

“Oh, I have to say boy I am quite surprised. Normally someone in your position would beg the crown for funds. It is quite refreshing to meet a youth such as yourself that understands the value of good work. I do in fact have several tasks that I have not had the resources to solve.

Avon felt hope bloom in his chest at Cygon’s words. He had a chance now, no matter how slim. His words before might have been prettied up, but he meant them. His pride would allow no less than his full effort. The King would not be disappointed.

“My knights reported seeing a great bird approaching the city this morning, am I correct in assuming that the beast is yours.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“With such a familiar, it should be quite simple for you to travel quickly, something that will be very important on the task I have in mind for you.”

“What task might that be my King?”

“In the plains to the west, many towns have found themselves attacked. Infantry attachments have been sent to every town, but they are all I can spare, most of my forces are tied up elsewhere. Unfortunatly, those that I have sent to the region lack the ability to effectively combat the threat that they face.”

There were very few things that Avon could think of that were a match for the royal military. Its rank and file were mostly just simple peasants, but the officers tended to be nobles.

Nobles that enough resources to craft powerful familiars. What could possibly be a match for such a powerful force?

“Bandits have been attacking the region. While normally that would not be cause for concern, it is their origin that had brought about this mess. At first, we thought they were simple highwaymen, now we know the truth. In a situation eerily similar to your own, House Khan found itself falling apart. Instead of doing a righteous thing to turn around their fortunes, they have resorted to banditry.”

The thought of such a twisted parody of his own circumstances made Avon feel sick. What kind of malice would someone have to possess to attack those who could not defend themselves? Avon gritted his teeth and remained silent. He needed to know more.

“As you well know, the ranks of my army are filled with many nobles. The nobles under my army’s purview possess familiars of tremendous strength, but they are not enough for the might of Titus Khan. He is the driving force behind these attacks, him and his monster. That man managed to build a creature on the scale that has not been seen in many years. Its shape is that of a one-eyed serpent, a bladed tail and fangs its only weapons.”

“What is it you need me to do my King?”

“Slay the beasts. Khan and his familiar both. My infantry should provide all the strength you need to combat the lesser members of his house. None to my knowledge possess a beast quite like yours within my army’s ranks. Swift flight will be invaluable for locating the camp of house Khan. Will you take it upon yourself to face this challenge Avon of House Darrow? Will you fight for my kingdom?”

Avon did not hesitate to give his response, “I will see this task completed your Majesty.”

“Good, I will see my steward provision you before you leave the palace. Safe travels Lord Darrow.”

Avon once more bowed to his King before he exited the room. Outwardly he was the picture of calm, internally was a different story. Excitement and rage clashed in equal measure, neither winning out and becoming dominant. A task such as this was sure to bring much good will to his family; however, the nature of whom he would be facing left him enraged, all the same, he would not fail.

—

One week into his task and things were looking bleak. He had contacted the soldiers in several towns for updates over the past seven days, yet none of them had any worthwhile info. A goose chase was simpler than this. His search methods were seeing no results, and he lacked any clues to give himself somewhere to start. He would have to change things up if he wanted any success. With a sigh, Avon stretched his muscles before mounting his familiar. Moments later they had ascended into the air, the bond inherit between creator and beast allowing understanding between the two.

From on top of Gerrion, the whole of the world appeared small. People and building alike were nothing but ants. That was the main problem with his search method, so he would simply have to get closer to the ground.

A plan like this was just about the best he could do when it came to using his familiar. Either he would get lucky, or he wouldn’t. There was no in between in this scenario. Either way, he likely had another long day of searching ahead of him.

—

Just before nightfall he caught sight of them. A band of horsemen at the edge of his vision. Signaling Gerrion, Avon prepared for the landing. He didn’t know if these people were the bandits he sought, but it was better to be prepared than not. Hand drifting to his familiar’s flank, Avon grasped firmly his lance. An undecorated weapon far more befitting a peasant.

Talons dug deep into soil as Gerrion landed. Shouts rang out as the band of horseman came to a stop in front of him. Staying upon his beast’s back, Avon held his lance at the ready and spoke.

“I am Avon of Darrowpeak, under the order of King Cygon I have been sent to stop the tyranny of house Khan. Now, tell me what purpose a band of twenty horseman has travelling South? From my familiar I was unable to see any settlements that you could possibly be heading towards.”

The horseman at the lead of the column cantered his horse forward. His unkempt brown hair falling behind him in a greasy curtain.

“I should have guessed from so great a beast as to the nature of its rider. Hail, Lord Darrow. I am called Marcus, the leader of this band, and I am pleased to inform you that we are but simple merchants. We know well the dangers of crossing house Khan and have elected to travel off of the main paths to reach the city of Lakt in the Southeast.”

“A sensible enough reason I suppose. Have you had any encounters with house Khan on your travels? Any information you provide would be greatly appreciated.”

“Ah well, we have heard news that the village of Ruck to the west was attacked recently, it might be wise to check around the area.”

“My thanks, Marcus. I will be sure to put this knowledge to good use. You are free to go, stay safe.”

Marcus dug his heels into his mounts flanks and sped off, followed closely by his retinue. Avon pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He had really been hoping for a lead from those merchants, but he had already asked the people of Ruck for assistance just yesterday. He would have to be far more cunning if he wanted to catch the vermin, he was chasing. As he readied Gerrion to once more take flight, he was suddenly interrupted by a rude voice from the grass behind him.

“Oi! Are you stupid! I’ve been tracking those morons for over a week! Did you really believe the shit coming out of that bandit’s mouth!”

Swiftly, Avon wheeled his familiar around to face the voice. Barely a head above the grass, a hooded figure stood. Mottled green blended in perfectly with their surroundings, though the fur around their neck was odd for the time of year. Avon blinked; he could have sworn that the fur just moved.

“Hey dumbass! Have you even been listening to what I’m saying? Those ‘merchants’ you just let pass you by are bandits!”

“How can you be so sure as to their identity? I don’t even know your name, let alone what you look like. So far Marcus appears far more trustworthy to me.”

Pinched angry mutters competed with the wind to take up the sudden silence. The hooded figure in front of him appeared to have a temper proportional to their height.

“Look, you daft noble prick! I’ve been following those bandits since they attacked my village. That bastard Marcus you were chatting with killed my neighbor.”

“If I am to trust any of the information you have to say, then at least give me your name. There is no need to be so rude.”

“My name is Delaney, and I’m a hunter! Does that satisfy you oh great Lord?”

“Excellent, thank you for cooperating. Now as you no doubt heard during your eavesdropping,”—Delaney let out a scoff—" I am Avon of Darrowpeak. You claim the merchants I just spoke with are bandits. What other information do you have to corroborate this accusation of yours other than hearsay.”

“I’ve watching those morons for weeks at this point. Marcus has been using his familiar to ferry messages back and forth with someone. I snuck into their command tent and took some of their correspondence. Look at it yourself.”

Avon took the proffered parchment and began to read. Titus was gathering his house together. Based on the damage done to the villages it was clear that he had multiple bands of bandits running around at any given time, but know he was calling them back. From what he was reading it seemed to be nothing more than a routine gathering to distribute the loot. Nonetheless, this was a chance he could not afford to lose. He needed to make haste and follow Marcus back to Titus’ main camp.

“I thank you for the information, Delaney. Now, I must make haste and pick up the trail of Marcus and his band.”

“Wait! You can’t just go flying after them like that. They’ll know something’s wrong as soon as they see you. We’ll have to follow them on foot to if we want to find out where their Khan is hiding.”

“You are full of insight Delaney. As a hunter you surely know much more about tracking and stealth than I do. I will be sure to follow your advice and chase them on foot. Gerrion can locate me like all familiars are able, so he will make an effective guide for the soldiers stationed in the region. I’ll leave a message for the captain of whatever detachment he comes across. They will know to follow Gerrion to my position then.”

A brief search through his bags later, and he pulled out some parchment and a coal stick. Making note of the information he had received from Delaney; Avon composed his message. Another search of his bag and he pulled out some twine with which to bind the parchment closed. Job finished, Avon climbed down from Gerrion and ruffled his feathers, the normally stoic beast warbling gently at his touch. A crackle of static sounded as he pulled his hand away from his familiar’s pinions and moved it instead toward the latches on his saddle.

Grasping firmly, Avon removed his rations and supplies from Gerrion. Stepping away from the beast with weapon and lance in hand, he placed himself next to Delaney and watched Gerrion make his ascent.

“Well then, if I might ask, how exactly have you been able to track the bandits as well as you have. Does it have anything to do with the suspiciously wriggling fur around your neck?”

“Fur? He’s not a fur! His name is Funk, and he’s my familiar. I made him when I was ten, and he has an amazing nose. With his tracking ability it’s easy to follow so many horses.”

“Well then, Delaney, after you.”

Crossing their arms across her chest, Delaney let out a burst of air and turned to face the direction of the horseman. Without any other words said, they fell into step with one another and began marching. While they may be close to the bandit’s main encampment, the walk ahead of them would still be long.

—

It was not until the eve of their third day that they finally saw the camp. They travelled only during the day and made use of Funk’s nose to guide them. As they crested the last hill, they saw sprawled before them the camp of house Khan. Tents of every variety made haphazard columns and rows, their occupants wandering around aimlessly and going about their tasks. In the center of the madness was the largest tent. Its vibrant crimson color giving away its importance. That just left one very large and serpent shaped question for him. Where was Titus’ familiar?

Avon turned and faced Delaney, as a hunter her familiar was likely able to track snakes. “The head of house Khan, Titus, has a great serpent for a familiar. Can Funk pick up its scent?”

“What do you take me for? Of course he can.”

Avon watched as Funk took a deep breath of air through its nose. The fuzzball almost seemed to recoil for a moment before raising one of its stubby limbs towards the far end of the camp. He was confused for a moment before he saw movement. What Avon had initially taken as nothing more than a set of hills, was instead the coils of a snake. Fear gripped his heart. That was what he was to face? How could he possibly fight something like that? He stewed in his thoughts for a moment before being interrupted by Delany.

“Look, now that we know where that stupid snake is, let’s go find those military friends of yours,” her voice quavered, “I’m tired of all of this non-stop walking.”

Avon felt a smile grace his lips. As feeble as her façade may be, Delaney was right. Now that they had the location of the bandits they needed to meet with the infantry. Luckily, familiar bonds worked both ways, so it was trivial for Avon to tell Gerrion’s general location, a location that he and Delaney made great haste towards. An hours journey later, and they met up with the

gathering of the King’s army. Gerrion trilled happily at seeing his partner and followed Avon all the way to the command tent. He stood guard outside while Avon and Delaney entered through the tent flaps.

Inside the tent were four men and two women, all surrounding a table that contained a map. Their entrance pulled the commanders from their stupor, and introductions were made. Upon hearing Delaney introduce herself, the commanders were swift in shaking her hand. They had been stuck in the plains for two months trying to find the bandits, and Delaney had just given them the information they needed on a silver platter. It was safe to say that they were more than a bit grateful.

“Commanders, as of just two hours ago, Delaney and I have laid eyes on the bandit encampment which we believe to house the leader. Titus Khan has under his command what we were able to identify as two hundred men, with what seemed to be a hundred horses. We were also able to spot Titus’ familiar.”

“How were they equipped? Did their weapons appear to be of high quality?” said one of the commanders.

“Nah, for the most part they just had crappy iron swords and axes. Most of them were unarmored too, so if we catch them by surprise, they’ll be easy pickings.” Said Delaney.

“Not to mention, that their horses are kept some distance form their tents, likely due to a lack of discipline. If we could sneak a few soldiers into their ‘stables’ for lack of a better word, then we could kill any guards that might be watching and set the horses loose. Without their horses, these bandits would find themselves easily beaten by our own men.”

“Your plan is solid Lord Darrow, but who would you choose to lead the soldiers sneaking into their camp. Some of our soldiers might be able to walk quietly, but none of them have much experience with duties of this nature.” Said a different commander.

Avon didn’t even need time to deliberate his suggestion. Delaney had been a great help so far, and with her experience as a hunter, she would surely have the capabilities needed to sneak up on their foes.

“I would like to nominate Delaney for the task. She has a personal stake in the success of this operation, as well as being an experienced hunter. Her stealth skills will be perfect for the job.”

Delaney offered no protests, her excitement visible through her body language.

“Now that we have that figured out, we shall have our men prepare for an attack on the morrow, just before dawn should be the perfect time to foul their horses. The less time the bandits have to consolidate themselves the better.” Said yet another commander.

Tired, Avon left the tent with Delaney, Gerrion bumping into his side as they walked back through the soldier’s camp. At the end of one of the tent rows, Avon set up his tent and quickly crawled inside. If he wanted to be effective come the morning, then a long night’s sleep would be needed.

Before sunrise, Avon woke to the sound of soldiers shouting. Opening his tent, he watched as men ran about like headless chickens whilst putting together the last pieces of their gear. Deciding that now might be a good time to do the same, Avon shrugged on his battle clothes and retrieved his lance. He would be riding Gerrion into battle at the head of the infantry. His beast would be sure to inspire fear in the hearts of house Khan.

As all the soldiers finished their preparations and fell in line, he could not help but notice the absence of Delaney. Reading his confused expression, one of the commanders explained that they had left ahead of the infantry to cause chaos before they arrived. Delaney and the rest of her group would meet up with the other soldiers after the battle.

Nerves calmed, Avon and the army began the hours march to the bandit encampment. Gerrion walking along beside him rather than fly to prevent being spotted too early. When the infantry crested the last hill, the plains below them came into view. Horses stampeded away from the encampment, men in thrown together armor trying and failing to chase after them. Within the main camp, bandits were doing their best to organize themselves and gather their weapons.

Everything was going well until the ground started shaking. Titus had called for his familiar it seemed. Dark green scales slid past one another in a parody of silence, a great yellow eye snapping open as the beast rose to its full height.

Avon let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. The fear was back, but he could not let it rule him. His comrades were counting on him, he would do his utmost to defend them from the serpent.

“Soldiers!”

“Make ready!”

“Hold!”

“Charge!”

Immediately Gerrion to flight and burst into the air. Static danced along his plumage, and Avon soared toward the serpent. The closer he got, the more the static built, until it reached the point of no return and Gerrion opened his beak. Lightning spewed forth in a great torrent, arcing towards the great tower of flesh before him.

Lightning moved far too fast to dodge or block, and so the great serpent fried. A wail of pain leaving its gaping maw. Avon used the opportunity to close in to the now scorched snake. Suddenly, a bladed tail superimposed itself in front of him. Acting quickly, Gerrion dove towards the ground before leveling himself.

As he circled around the serpent, Avon searched for an opening. Gerrion stopped beating his wings, and once more they dropped. Tail blade flying where they had just been. Opening his wings again, Gerrion caught the air and pulled in for a pass on the snake’s head. Blood burst out in great gouts as talons dug through flesh.

Another scream, and another swipe of the tail. It was like a game of cat and mouse, only this time the mouse was the one with the claws. Crackles of static danced across Gerrion’s frame as he once more approached the point of overcharge.

Avon grimaced at yet another close call. He needed to end this quickly before his battle got out of hand and the serpent began a rampage. The infantry were hardly equipped to deal with a beast like this, and honestly he doubted he was either. He pushed that thought to the side though as a stupid idea took its place.

So far Avon had not been able to use his lance. It would hardly be effective on the monsters’ scales after all, but its eye was the opposite. The serpent’s eye was obviously its weak point, but even if he was able to attack beasts’ eye with his weapon, it would not be enough to kill it. What he needed was the power of lightning. A method that had failed to do any lasting damage previously, but with a metal stake in its eye, all the energy Gerrion produced would be directed right to the beast’s weak point instead of lightly burning it.

Avon needed a way to plant his spear in the serpent’s eye to give Gerrion the opening he needed, but lucky for him, he had figured out a way. Dodging out of the way of another swipe,

Avon directed Gerrion higher into the air. He took a deep breath before he grabbed his lance firmly in his hands. Before he could regret his decision, Avon let himself slip off Gerrions back and into the open air. Below him was that great eye, a perfect squishy landing spot.

Lance met eye, and the beast went blind. Sturdy metal armor roughly impacted the jelly like softness of the pale orb. Avon was honestly surprised he was still alive, but know wasn’t the time for that, he needed to get back to his ride before he was shaken to the ground. A feeling passed through him, and Avon decided that now was the time to jump. Arms outstretched into open air for only a moment before they gingerly grasped by steel rending talons.

Avon hanged under his familiar as he came around for his final pass. Flashes of blue lit up the world in front of him, Gerrion was ready. His head nodded, thunder boomed, a snake toppled.

He had done it. Avon of house Darrow had just defeated the serpent. A laugh burst past his lips as he felt his nerves finally relax. Gerrion turned around, and Avon saw the last of the bandits being defeated. Standing on the same hill that they had first watched the camp from, was the waving form of Delaney. It would be nice to relax after this was all over, but first, he needed a shower.

By Logan Berry

From: United States