The Rehkin
"Ugh…," Haalfrin groans restlessly as he stirs awake.
Upon waking up, the first thing he notices is that his back is vibrating as the wooden cart he's in is bumping softly on the dirt road. He looks up and sees a thick canopy of trees overhead, with the soft, golden sunlight trickling through just bright enough to be comfortable. The cool breeze and strange smells in the air is so relaxing that he almost lulls back into slumber.
Then, he remembers what happened.
"Bleh!" he shouts while abruptly sitting up. He actually tried to get to his feet, but he stumbles back onto his butt. "Why…?"
He looks down and sees the patched up stump on his left knee, where his leg used to be. He stops and stares for a few moments – trying to process what he's seeing. "My leg…?"
Even though he remembers it being ripped off, it still feels unreal to him.
All things considered, he ends up accepting his new handicap rather quickly. "At least it's not my arms! I can still fight this way."
"###########!" comes a man's voice in a strange language just behind Haalfrin. He turns around and sees an entire entourage of carts and carriages ahead of his own cart.
The thing about all these people… is that they all have animal features on them. More specifically, they all have identical brownish-yellow ears atop their heads, and like colored tails hanging low in anxiety.
Of course, these people are Rehkin… What's more important is… which language are they speaking? There are hundreds or thousands of Clans, and they all have their own unique tongue. Haalfrin certainly learned several Rehkin languages with Kalastros, but there's no way he's learned them all.
So, Haalfrin starts with one he knows. "Who are you all?" he speaks in the Crow tongue.
…There's no reply.
"You know the human language, yeah?" says a fat man, who pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
Haalfrin looks at the man and nods. "How do you do? My name is Haalfrin. I assume you rescued me." He bows his head. "Thank you."
The fat Rehkin does a slight bow and says gratuitously, "No need for thanks! Me and my clansfolk were just on our way back home from a trade deal with the humans."
'Oh,' Haalfrin thinks, 'That explains why they know my language AND why they were near enough by to rescue me; they trade with Brancotte.'
Haalfrin then looks at his many wounds – particularly his leg, and he thanks these folk again for healing him.
The fat leader of these people shakes his head, "I'm sorry we couldn't save your leg. We don't have the medical knowledge to do that." He then looks down the road they came from. "The humans in the Threshold do have some doctors who can regrow limbs, but I'm sorry I don't have the connections to borrow some of their doctors."
"Oh?" Haalfrin mutters in surprise. "The Threshold's medical field is that advanced?" He'd certainly heard Freyya talk about how there are techniques that can do regrow limbs in some of the more advanced magical worlds… but not here.
So, Haalfrin waves the man down and says, "Never mind that. I never caught your name."
"It's Krea," the fat man says before pausing.
"…If you don't mind me asking," Krea continues, "Where are you headed? We might be able to bring you there."
"Who's the strongest being in this world?" Haalfrin asks.
"…" Krea really doesn't know what to think of this question. Is this man really a dragon? Or rather, any denizen of this world should know the answer to this question.
"It's Lord Fheldin, of course," Krea finally answers.
Dakka chips in telepathically, 'Yeah, bro. Fheldin is my grandpa. He's a 5 horned dragon. He's incredibly ancient as well.'
'How strong is that compared to you?' Haalfrin thinks back to him.
'…I'm not sure,' Dakka admits. '4 horned dragons and above all constantly grow bigger and more powerful with age. Since I'm the youngest 4 horned dragon in the world, I'm also the weakest one, by far. My father and all my uncles could whup my butt without even trying. Grandpa, though… I've seen him personally wrestle all my uncles to the ground without even trying.'
Indeed, there has never been a situation where Dakka could've seen Fheldin go all out. There has never been an emergency in this world dire enough for the ancient dragon to unleash his full strength.
Hearing this, Haalfrin smiles and thinks, 'Perfect!' He then turns to Krea and says, "I'm going to Fheldin's home."
The smile on Krea's face cracks, and he pauses to breathe slowly (as to not squeak his voice in fear). "I…I… I can't bring you there personally," Krea apologizes, "but I can at least get you a prosthetic leg at our next destination before we part ways."
Haalfrin bows his head and says, "Thank you. I won't forget this favor."
He then touches his finger on his chest and pulls out a small whisp of a golden spirit thread. He gives it to Krea and says, "I'll always recognize you with this."
Krea takes the thread and quickly ties it to his own spirit before thinking, "This man definitely isn't a dragon. Dragon's can't use spirit magic… But why does he smell like one?"
He shakes his head and decides not to think about it anymore. This man may or may not be able to repay any favors, but it's better to do a good deed than a bad one anyway, so it's not a big loss for him.
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Sometime along the journey, Krea pulls Haalfrin aside late at night and asks hesitantly, "Sir… it's been a few days, and I can't stand not asking anymore. So, I need to know. Are you really with the Threshold? I mean, you ARE a human, right?"
"Yeah, I'm a human, and no, I'm not with the Threshold."
Warily, Krea asks, "What's your business out here? Not here to cause trouble? How can I know I won't be held responsible for anything?"
"My business out here is personal," Haalfrin answers. "Are you sure you'd care?"
"N-nevermind! If you don't want to say, I won't ask!" Despite knowing Haalfrin is human, Krea and all his other Clansmen feel this man is dangerous. They can sense it with their spirits.
Haalfrin laughs, then shrugs, "I don't mind telling… Eh, I'm just here to find a strong opponent to fight. I heard dragons live in this world, so I'm here to find them."
"…" Krea stares hard at the dragonbone ax on Haalfrin's hip. He'd been wondering what it was before, but hearing Haalfrin's words, he's starting to put the pieces together.
Once the cogs in his head finish turning, Krea shakes his head and walks away. It's best to stay out of such dangerous business like that! He should just focus on making money, not getting mixed up with a madman chasing dragons!
'I'll just take him to find a prosthetic leg, then we'll part ways!' Krea declares in his heart.
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Shortly after the trip starts, Haalfrin is woken up in the middle of the night. "Mr. Human?" one of the young boys who follows Krea around says. "Boss said that you should flee right now. Boss said that we're surrounded by the Hawk B#stards. Those F###ing F###ers found us again. Don't worry. We'll make them eat Sh#t for you. But it's best to hide."
"Umm... How old are you, kid?" Haalfrin asks.
"8."
Haalfrin is just surprised that such a young child already has such a foul mouth.
"Who are these 'Hawks'," Haalfrin asks.
"They're just Dumb#sses," the little kid spits on the ground as he walks away - no longer caring about Haalfrin.
Haalfrin reaches out with his Spiritual senses, but he feels no Auras - not even from the Rehkin around him who've rescued him.
Clearly, his Spirit Magic isn't strong enough to see through these people when they choose to hide their Spirit Auras.
'Oh well,' Haalfrin sighs. 'I have other means of seeing.
He mumbles a spell for a second, and when he opens his eyes again, the night around him has burst alive into many different colors. All the trees around him are glowing a faint grey, the sky is a cold black, the ground is mostly invisible, the campfire is blaring brighter than the sun, and all the warm bodies around him are glowing a faint red.
With his infrared vision, Haalfrin sees all the Coyote Clan members spreading out in the forest and fighting a bunch of strangers. All of these strangers have identical brown hair and large, brown wings on their lower backs.