Kjell of Vittra: Rising Smoke

Kjell of Vittra: Rising Smoke

The smoke rose on the second night of attacks, the night after autumnal solstice, and Vittra’s denizens had barely managed to stop the blazes from the night before. Kjell stood in line with his family to form a bucket brigade, waiting for the splintering pail to come to him. They soaked the roof to keep it from catching fire as sparks circled their home like carrion, waiting to descend.

The forest city of Vittra stood before them. Dense pines with white needles separated by squat wooden structures and the occasional spire of a church nestled at the base of Reimt Pass. The new churches stood out, and the clergy made sure to ring their bells day and night, despite the legends as old as the city itself. Legends that warned against loud noises after nightfall.

Kjell first heard the legends when he was young. Old wives’ tales about a dragon that lived in the surrounding mountains and would come out if you made too much noise after dark. He’d thought it was to get him and his sister to sleep when they had stayed up too late. He was wrong.

The dragon circled the city, its stark white skin standing out against the inky night sky. Kjell watched the massive beast spin around to hurl fire down on the East quarter. The rich quarter where all the merchants lived and the church's bell towers pierced the sky. He’d never been so happy to be poor.

“Pay attention, Kjell!” his father growled, splashing him with water as he handed him the bucket.

“Sorry Father!”

He passed it along to his mother who threw it on the fire, putting out the last of the little smoking patches and thoroughly soaking the thatching. He didn’t look away from the dragon as it swooped and burned a church to the ground. Its enormous bell broke free as the rope burned, falling from the steeple with an eerie off tune bing-bong. The smoke was thick and his throat burned, even being far away from the most severe fires.

“Mama?” Lenore asked.

His mother bent down to his sister, “Yes, my flower?”

“Will it get us? Will it get us like in the stories?”

Kjell frowned as he lost sight of the dragon amongst the snow capped peaks of Mount Fjern.

“No, Lenore. That was…”

“What? Not real?” Kjell said, still scanning. Waiting for the dragon to reappear.

“Yes, well—” his mother started to say when a man ran up to them.

“Sten!” he paused to huff and puff. “We need you at the livery! The whole thing is going up in flames! We can’t get the animals out!”

“Damn!” his father sprinted towards the city center. Kjell ran after him but his father stopped and held up a wide calloused hand.

“Stay here Kjell! It’s too dangerous. I need you to watch Lenore and your mother.”

“But Da, I can help—”

“No! Stay here. Just listen to me this once. Please?”

Kjell clenched his jaw and nodded. His father touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently as his eyes told of fears his mouth couldn’t say, and turned to run after the other man and into the heart of the smoke.

He watched the black cloud, moving like the tendrils of a living being, climbing into the night sky and becoming lost in the darkness. Lost outside of the fire's light.

He could no longer see his father, and turned back to the hut to stand in safety as the city burned before them. He hoped the fire wouldn't reach them, and he hoped his father would be safe out in the chaos the city had become. A massive pine cracked and fell into the streets. People shouted as it landed and Kjell wondered if it had crushed anyone.

There was a gush of air on their backs and Kjell spun around to face the dense forest that lay behind them. Their hut located on the outskirts of Vittra, and the trees that were his home, that he had played in as a child, now looked like hiding places for monsters. The white needles of the pines were nearly opaque, sealing off his view into the depths of the forest.

“What was that?” Lenore whispered.

“I don’t know,” he said as his mother placed her hands on Lenore’s shoulders. She held tight to his sister's small frame with her face pinched and worried, moving Lenore behind her to shield from whatever was out there.

Kjell held his breath and took a step forward. A knot formed in his stomach and he suddenly felt naked, unarmed with his mother and sister standing by helpless, and only him between them and the darkness. A branch snapped to his right and a tree moved, its hard needles tinkling against the other branches. He froze, staring at the spot. He crouched to peer under the branches.

Two huge blue eyes stared back at him.

“Run!” He shouted, but his legs refused to respond.

The dragon punched through the brush, not slowing from the branches or the sharp needles as they screeched against its scales. It kept its wings folded against its massive body as it charged out in a white blur of fangs and fury, leaping over Kjell in a single smooth bound.

He covered his face just in time as the dragon's massive rear foot bowled him over. He tumbled head over heels, rolling across the ground like a straw doll thrown by a petulant child. In the time it took Kjell to come to a stop, the dragon spread its wings and snatched Lenore from his mother, sending her sprawling to the ground with an enormous clawed hand.

Kjell came to a sharp stop, cracking his face on a stone and felt blood trickle into his eyes. The world turned red as he watched the dragon beat its wings, carrying Lenore further into the mountains as she screamed.

“Lenore…” he said, and the world darkened.

***

He felt pressure on his chest and opened his eyes to piercing sunlight and a man kneeling over him, shaking him gently.

“You’re alive. Good.” he said, and stood up.

The man looked at the hut then out over the mountains, his long blonde and red beard was braided, as was his hair, and he had a double edged battle axe strapped to his enormous shoulders with a harness. “Can you stand?” he said, voice deep and rumbling.

Kjell tried to sit, and clutched his head, his fingers coming away sticky.

“Did you see where it went?”

“I-” he remembered Lenore screaming as she was carried into the night sky and rubbed his eyes to try and dispel the image. “I think so. It took Lenore…my sister.”

“Do you know your way up the mountain? Can you take me there?”

Kjell nodded and forced himself to rise, thinking of Lenore. His head was throbbing and his ears started to ring as the world swam past his eyes. He stumbled to a rain barrel and cracked the thin layer of ice off the top. He splashed his face, cupping his hands to pour the icy water on his head. The frigid water felt good on his aching skull so he dunked his hair into it, cleaning most of the blood off.

“Is this your home?” the man asked, watching him with narrowed, curious eyes and his arms crossed.

“Yes.” he said, resting his arms on the edge of the barrel. The water dripped down his back and his skin prickled with goosebumps from the cold.

“Do you know that woman?” the man pointed and Kjell saw his mother, laying on the ground where the dragon had left her. His stomach dropped as his last fading seconds of consciousness flooded his mind.

He walked towards her, but couldn’t hold his gaze. A long dark line was drawn across his mother’s body, joining the small pool of red that surrounded her on the frosty grass. Her skin had turned grey overnight. Glass eyes stared at the morning sun and her lips were blue with cold.

He closed his eyes, willing the image to fade, but it stuck to his mind like a tick. Burrowing deeper with each moment.

“That’s–” his throat tightened, “was, my mother.”

“I’m sorry.” The man looked at the ground. “I saw the smoke from Julesborg, but it took me a day to ride here. I should’ve left sooner.”

Kjell wondered what this man was talking about, why he acted guilty. As if he was responsible for this.

“We’ll bury your Mother. Then I need you to take me through Reimt pass.”

Kjell couldn’t move, his body locked up again. Like it had last night. Could I have saved them? He couldn’t drive this from his mind. Couldn’t stop hearing Lenore’s screams…she was so scared. He needed to find her.

The man walked to his horse, tethered to a post nearby, and pulled a short shovel from his saddle bag. He removed the great axe from his back and hung it from his saddle, along with his cloak, a deep grey trimmed with silver fox fur.

“My name is Ernhardt.” He said, striking the ground by the side of the path.

“Kjell.”

Ernhardt dug chunks of hard frozen turf out of the ground at alarming speed as he spoke. “Have you ever heard of the Grey Cloaks?”

“Some.” Kjell said. He’d heard of the monster hunters, but thought they were rumors, like he used to think the dragon to be…he didn’t feel much like talking. Didn’t feel much like moving, his body still rigid and a cauldron of fear, fury and hate bubbled inside his chest. He couldn’t look at his mother, didn’t know where his father was, and all he wanted to do was find Lenore.

“I’m one of them.” Enrhadt grunted, shoving the shovel into the softer earth beneath the frost. “I hunt monsters.”

“I see.” Kjell said.

Ernhardt looked over at him and saw the pain writ on his face. Saw the boy that was still inside the man and recognized the loss there. He had lost his mother too.

He worked in silence then as Kjell stood frozen in place, thinking of his course of action and watching the man’s corded arms make short work of the ground. Surely he was his best bet at finding Lenore, if she was still alive. He didn’t have time to look for his father, and if he hadn’t come home, then he might not have survived the fires.

Ernhardt stepped out of the grave, dropped the shovel with a clatter and walked to Kjell’s mother. He slid his fingers over her eyes to close them, then lifted her up. He moved her easily, like she weighed no more than a straw doll, and set her gently down into the hole. “Do you have anything you wanted to say?” he asked.

Kjell tightened his fists and choked back tears that hit him like a runaway wagon. He didn’t have time for this. Mother would have wanted him to find Lenore. There was nothing left to say but, “I’m sorry, Ma.” He closed his eyes and covered his mouth with his hand.

After a moment, he heard Ernhardt say something in a rough, foreign tongue. A prayer, maybe. Then Kjell heard the dirt shifting and opened his eyes to see Ernhardt filling the grave. He made short work of it while Kjell watched and mourned, holding his head in his hands and crying freely now. He’d only just managed to stay on his feet, fearing if he fell to his knees now, he wouldn’t rise.

He didn’t know how he was going to stop this beast, but he knew he had to try. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, and steeled himself. No more of that. He would grieve when he returned with Lenore.

“Do you have any food?” Ernhardt asked.

“Yes.”

“Grab it, and we will go. We need to get to the mountain before nightfall if we want a chance of killing the dragon.”

Kjell hurried into the house. He wrapped smoked fish and hard tack in a cloth and shoved it in a sack. He headed for the door but turned back to look in the one room hut. He walked to his parents' straw mattress and lifted the corner to pull out a sword with a midnight blue scabbard and matching hilt. A leftover from his father’s time in the royal guard. He strapped the belt around his waist and headed for the door.

Ernhardt was already mounted and reached out a hand, helping Kjell onto the back of the great grey destrier. With a click of the tongue, Ernhardt had the beast moving swiftly and smoothly towards the mountains.

Kjell was impressed by the animal. In all his years riding and helping his father in the livery, he had never been on a horse as smooth as this. He hardly had to hold on as it cantered through the city streets and past the carnage of last night's fires.

Everything was blackened by soot and people still worked to finish putting out the last of the fires. The dragon must have halted its assault once it took Lenore. Kjell thought the buildings would be nothing but ash come morning.

They came to the corner that used to house the livery and Kjell looked over the piles of charcoal that had once been stables. He could only see horses, and not his father on the ground there, so he didn’t ask Ernhardt to stop. The fire was out, and no able-bodied people were paying attention to the destroyed building while other parts of the city still burned. If his father was under the rubble, there was no helping him now. What would I say if I found him? How could I tell him? He needed to find Lenore and put an end to the dragon. He could worry about his father then.

They left town shortly after, cutting towards Reimt Pass and beginning the trek up the frozen rocky slopes. The destrier had no trouble keeping a slow and steady pace, even with Kjell’s added weight.

“You’ve come into this pass often?” Ernhardt asked.

“Yes.” Kjell admitted, though he felt his cheeks flush.

Ernhardt grunted. “The land is considered cursed, isn’t it? Off bounds to all people in the realm?” Kjell squirmed and didn’t answer, feeling Ernhardt already knew. “Must be good hunting.” was all he said, and Kjell was thankful. Anyone from town would have likely turned him over to the authorities, thinking the dragon attack was caused by these tresspasses. It wasn’t, but he and his father would be hanged regardless and the people of Vittra would sleep well after doing so.

They plodded along, Kjell telling him the way that led to the caves rumored (rumors now founded) to house the dragon.

Enhardt’s destrier flattened its ears and snorted, shooting large clouds of steam into the air. Snow started to fall and Kjell felt a chill up his spine and eyes on him. Ernhardt scanned the trees, looking for what had startled his steed.

“There.” Kjell said, and pointed to a tree along the unblazed trail. A snow leopard sat in its branches, watching them with yellow eyes, stock still with its fur puffed out for warmth.

Ernhardt squinted and leaned forward to touch the horse's neck. “It’s alright, Par. We see him.”

The horse raised its ears and Ernhardt flicked the reins to set him going again, though it didn’t take its eyes off the leopard as they passed. The big cat was happy to let them go by. This wasn’t its first winter, and it knew when it was outmatched.

“You spotted that leopard quickly.” Ernhardt remarked.

“I felt it watching.” Kjell said.

A grunt, then, “That’s a good skill to have.”

“You need to know what's out here watching you. Lots of leopards around.” Kjell shrugged. “We’re here.”

They rounded a corner and the sound of water crashing over stone met them. The air was damp and great smooth icicles hung on the already sharp white needles of the trees making the entire opening look like frozen death.

Kjell slid off the horse and Ernhardt followed. He took off his great grey cloak and threw it over Par. He leaned in and spoke to the animal, whispering in its ear and rubbing its neck. Kjell couldn’t make out what was said, but didn’t think it was important to hear what a man said to his horse.

Kjell checked his weapon, releasing the small strap that held the sword secure in the scabbard and pulled it out a palms width to look at the polished black steel blade. He gazed at his mirrored reflection, looking at his haggard eyes and the jagged cut on his forehead. He thought he looked pale, even in the smoky black image.

“You ready?” Ernhardt said, pulling the massive axe from its harness on his equally massive shoulders.

Kjell said nothing, giving a nod and shoving the sword back into its scabbard. He could feel his bile rising as he thought of the dragon’s milky white scales and pale blue eyes.They skirted the waterfall, and found a small goat path that scaled along sharp rocks leading to the cave.

“They used to sacrifice cattle to it.” Ernhardt said. “Did you know that?”

“I’d heard the stories. Never thought they were true.”

“Most of them are true.” The rocks skittered off the trail and went tumbling down into the stream below. Ernhardt stopped to look over the edge, their sharp ascent had brought them well above the half frozen water. “I heard from some merchants in Julesborg that there was a dragon in Vittra. The next day, I saw the smoke.” He continued walking and Kjell had to strain to hear him over the waterfall and wondered if talking was wise when trying to sneak up on a dragon.

“They had laughed and told me all the stories they thought were untrue.” He jumped up and over a boulder blocking the trail. “Do you think they are laughing still?”

Kjell supposed not, but couldn’t bring himself to say. His heart was pounding so hard that, between it and the waterfall, he could barely make out what Ernhardt was saying. They made it to the top of the trail and a small plateau sat before the yawning mouth of a cave. The Waterfall obscured half the opening, and giant icicles that had once blocked part of the entrance had been broken and tumbled to the side like twigs.

“They told me a great many things, Kjell.” Ernhardt said, turning to face him. “One of which is that the dragon is nocturnal, so it should be fast asleep.” he held his axe up to indicate the daylight still shining through the overcast sky. “They also said that it lives in the back of the caverns.” He pulled out two small vials with cerulean wax seals and tossed one to Kjell, who just managed to catch it. “Drink that. It will help us see in the blackness.” He popped the cork out with his thumb and downed the liquid in one shot.

Kjell fumbled and uncorked the vial. The murky liquid smelled as bad as it looked, and he thought of the time a horse had come to the livery with saddle fungus growing on its back from neglect. The horse had been lost in the woods after the rider fell off and the black, hard scales had needed to be scrapped off.

“Well?” Ernhardt said, stashing the empty vial in his pocket. “Are we going to get your sister or not?”

Kjell scrunched his nose and drank the liquid. It tasted like dried mushroom, a bit loamy, but not unpleasant.

He handed the vial back to Ernhardt, drew his sword and said, “Let’s go.”

The light from the mouth of the cave dimmed quickly, and the edges of the stones glowed as the potion took hold in the darkness. The world became singular in colour, with all the ‘light’ that he saw coming through as a light blue tint. The rocks were all covered in moss and the ice that had surrounded them on the outside of the cave turned to puddles as they moved deeper.

They wove their way through the singular cavern as the air grew warmer with each step and the stench of ash and blood filled their noses.

Kjell wrung the grip of the sword, making the dyed blue leather creak, and kept the black blade up, waiting for those giant teeth to come jumping out from around every bend.

Ernhardt stopped in his tracks and turned to Kjell, his eyes shining with the amplified blue light. “It’s there. I can feel it.” he whispered.

Kjell clenched his jaw and nodded as Ernhardt raised his fingers and counted down.

They rushed around the corner and Kjell thought he would be sick, his stomach flipping as the fear and adrenaline took hold.

The corner opened into a larger cavern filled with white crystals, and in the center was the sleeping dragon. Kjell stopped cold in his tracks as the dragon’s eyes snapped open and it lifted its head to reveal the blood stained claws it was using as a pillow and the shreds of a dress lying next to them.

Lenore…

Ernhardt didn’t stop his momentum. His teeth grit and jaw clenched like he knew full well this was their best chance to kill the beast. He leapt, chopping forward with a swing that looked like it could fell a forest.

The dragon lifted its claws to catch the blade, but where normal steel would have failed, enchanted metal prevailed. The blade sung as it tore through flesh, tendons and bone and left two massive claws fallen on the cave floor.

The dragon shrieked its outrage and poured fire from its maw as Ernhardt hit the ground and rolled to the side. Kjell’s eyes watered as the smell of burning hair and flesh assaulted him. Smoke and heat filled the cavern and he coughed, the burning air stinging his lungs. The dragon ceased its fire and turned to Kjell to roast him as well. His feet came to their senses as fear took hold, shoving his heart into his throat. He turned and ran around the corner, backtracking towards the cave's entrance as an inferno followed at his heels.

He nearly dropped his sword as he felt the ground shake and the small rocks chittered and jumped as the dragon thundered towards him. It didn’t seem to notice the missing fingers on its front right hand as it spewed dark red blood along the ground, leaving sizzling puddles to smoke on the rocks in its wake.

Kjell slid himself against the wall, trying to quiet his heart, sure that the dragon could hear it hammering in his chest. He made himself as small as he could and the dragon, blind in its rage, bolted past him and down the tunnel, picking up speed as it went.

Kjell shot a look after it, relief flooding his body, and then ran into the main cavern to find what was left of Ernhardt. He avoided the pools of blood as they started to sizzle and ate away the rocks. The smell of the sulphuric blood threatened to upturn the hardtack he’d eaten on the ride up.

He found Enhardt propped on a large crystal and he lifted his axe in a salute. His entire right side was seared and the hair on his head was curled and black, sticking to his scalp in a hard shell.

“I’m still alive.” he croaked, “for now…”

“It ran out down the tunnel.” Kjell said, and rushed to help Ernhardt to his feet. “We need to hurry and get out of here before it gets back.”

He groaned and steadied himself with his axe playing the part of a cane, “I came here to kill that dragon and help you find your sister.” he said, “I’m not done yet.”

“It’ll kill us! Lenore…she’s gone.” Kjell looked at the shredded fabric on the ground. Seeing the bits of gore and hair that littered the scene, he felt his mind shut off to the horror of his surroundings. Like a candle had been snuffed. His hands stopped shaking and his breathing slowed. Ernhardt was right. It had to die today.

When he looked back, Ernhardt was standing straight again and was finishing a flask that was filled with an opaque silver liquid. He threw the glass against the crystals and it shattered, the fragments of glass blending in with the translucent, semi-precious stones.

Ernhardt lifted his axe, grimacing in pain. “Maybe we’re lucky and the thing bled to death.” he said.

As if it heard, the dragon roared from the end of the tunnel, sending soundwaves to rumble the crystals and send them tinkling.

“Not lucky.” Kjell said.

The ground shook moments later as the dragon re-entered the cavern. It spewed fire in every direction, darkening the crystals with soot and warping them with the heat. It stopped and looked around, seeing nothing but the sizzling fabric on the ground and the cavern itself. It stopped and drew in a deep breath to try and smell them. Nothing stood out over its fresh kill and the ashen crystals.

Ernhardt sprung from his hiding place behind the dragon, and with a fierce swing of his axe it bit into the dragon’s tail, nearly severing it completely. The beast screamed with pain and fury, rounding on Ernhardt and exposing its neck. The scales twisted with it, creating an opening to its soft skin beneath the armored plating. Kjell sprang from his position to drive the black steel blade down to the hilt.

The dragon redoubled its shrieks as its blood spurted out and onto Kjell’s hands.

The beast shuddered and lurched towards the center of the cavern and Kjell wiped his hands furiously on his tunic as the acid took its toll. He screamed with the dragon as it fell, gurgling and choking on the blood filling its throat. It tried to blast fire through the cave one last time, but only produced a small puff of smoke before it collapsed. Its wings gave a shudder and a twitch, then it lay still, its great blue eyes staring blindly as it’s blood stripped the skin off Kjell’s hands and set his tunic smoldering.

He didn’t see Ernhardt appear, didn’t hear him shouting his name. All he knew was the fire in his nerves and the horror of watching his skin steam and sizzle. Just as he felt like he’d die from the pain, Ernhardt’s giant hands covered his own with a milky white poultice and the sizzling stopped.

Kjell shut his eyes, his shoulders shaking, and dropped to his knees. He hardly noticed the crystals gouging his flesh through the fresh tears in his pants as Ernhardt said something to him. He felt tears streaming down his face, and he didn’t know if they were for Lenore, his parents or from the pain that was racking his body. The crystals spun around him as he fell to the ground and into darkness.

He woke, unknowing of how much time had passed. Ernhardt sat beside him with his eyes closed. His right shoulder and the right side of his neck, face and head were all covered in the milky white poultice.

“You’re awake,” he mumbled. “That is good.”

Kjell sat up, and his head began to pound. That was twice in the last day that he had fallen unconscious. “How long was I out?”

Ernhardt shrugged. “As long as your body needed to come back to itself.” He opened one eye. “I went to check on Par and gather rope. We’re going to take this thing apart and sell it in Julesborg.” He closed his eye again. “Once I’m more healed.”

Kjell looked down at his hands, still stiff and in pain, but not the same mind numbing pain as before.

“What is this?”

“Fat.”

“Fat?”

Ernhardt smiled. “Mixed with some other things, but yes. It’s fat from a mankator.”

Kjell had heard of the mankators. Massive whales that preyed on ships and killed krakens for sport. “But, my hands…” he said, looking at the bright pink scar tissues forming where the white touched.

“Yes. This was a costly mission.” he waved his left hand over the right side of his body. “But with the sale of the dragon, we might still make a profit.” He sat up and looked at Kjell, blue eyes still twinkling with the effects of the low-light potion. “Will you come with me to Julesborg, or should I send you your half with a merchant? I have a few that lost a bet today, and I’m sure I could persuade one of them.”

Kjell thought of his family, all either ash, buried or devoured, and he thought of what he could do back in Vittra. He could keep living in the hut, poaching and helping at the livery. No doubt there would be work available. Many died in the fires and the city needed to be re-built.

No. No, that was never really an option. As soon as he felt his brain shift, felt that candle snuffed when he stared at his sister's clothes, he knew what he needed to do. He had to survive so he could put an end to this beast, and all the others that Ernhardt said lived in the world. No more stolen children.

“I will come.” he said.

Ernhardt nodded, “You’re sure? This life…it’s not an easy one.” he waved a hand over his wounds again. “This sort of thing happens often. My Gods are not kind.”

Kjell looked at his hands. Stiff, and painful, but functioning. He stood up and went to the dragon whose blood still sizzled in a pool around its neck wound and, careful not to touch the blood, pulled the blade from its neck. The black steel was marred with pockmarks and the edge was jagged. He dropped it to the floor and it clattered, breaking in half on the hard crystals. Much like his life was broken now without his family.

“I’m sure,” he said, “but I’m going to need another sword.”