Chapter 9
Ignis Ferox
The clerk looked up, blinking owlishly. "Can I help you, sir?" he asked, his voice polite but wary.
Kai didn't mince words. He drew himself up slightly, and when he spoke, his voice cut through the quiet room like a blade. It wasn't his usual tone. It was deeper, sharper, layered with an archaic precision and a clipped, resonant cadence that echoed the formal British accents of centuries past – the accent of old proclamations, royal decrees, and Stormguard edicts. It was a voice designed to command attention and brook no argument.
"Hark, Clerk!" His voice rang out, causing several people to jump. "Attend! I come bearing grim tidings and rightful claim! "I seek the Proctor of Bounties, the Keeper of the Ledgers of Peril!"
The clerk flinched, his spectacles slipping down his nose. "I... I handle bounties, sir. Proctor Hemlock is... indisposed. "What... what is the nature of your business?" He stammered, thrown by the archaic language and imposing delivery.
Kai's black eyes fixed on him, unwavering. "The nature, sirrah, is Draconic! A scourge awakened! A terror unleashed upon the realm! Heed my words!" He paused for dramatic effect, letting the formal, booming words hang in the dusty air. "A fortnight past, the ancient wyrm known as Ignis Ferox – the Fire Fury – slumbered deep within the Blackroot Peaks. Its rest, measured in centuries, was shattered! Awoken not by natural tremor or celestial sign, but by the reckless delve of avaricious miners seeking veins of star-iron! They pierced its sanctum! Disturbed its ageless sleep!"
Murmurs rippled through the room. People stopped pretending not to listen. The clerk paled slightly, fumbling to right his spectacles.
Kai continued, his voice resonant with condemnation. "Ignis Ferox, roused to wrath untold, did rise! Its fury was as the cataclysm! The mining settlement of Emberhold nay, not a settlement, a burgeoning city! nestled foolishly near the peak, bore the brunt! Its fiery breath scoured the streets! Its wrathful passage shattered walls and towers! Emberhold, clerk! A city of ten thousand souls! Reduced to smoldering ruin and ash in a single, horrific dawn! All for the folly of waking a sleeping god of fire!"
A gasp went up from a woman near the door. The clerk's mouth hung open. The destruction of Emberhold had been rumored, whispers carried by terrified refugees, but confirmed by none. Hearing it stated so boldly, with such archaic certainty, was chilling.
"The bounty!" Kai's voice cracked like a whip, snapping the clerk's attention back. "Long has it stood! Proclaimed by the Stormguard remnants, upheld by the Compact of Free Towns! Fifty thousand silver crowns! For the head, the heart, or the definitive proof of demise of the beast Ignis Ferox! For ending its reign of fire!"
He slammed his fist lightly on the counter for emphasis. "I stand before you, Clerk! The deed is done! The beast lies slain! Slain by my hand in the wilds three nights hence! And I claim the bounty that is rightfully mine!"
The silence that followed was absolute. Dust motes hung frozen in the sunbeams. Every eye in the Magistrate's Hall was fixed on Kai and the coarse sack he carried.
The clerk swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "S-sir... such a claim... such a bounty... requires... proof. Definitive proof." His voice was a whisper.
Kai didn't speak. He didn't need the booming voice anymore. The point was made. With a deliberate, almost casual motion, he lifted the coarse sack. He untied the rough twine holding it closed. Then, in one swift movement, he upended it onto the clerk's polished wooden counter.
Clatter-CRACK!
The dragon horn tumbled out. Not the whole horn, but the massive, jagged, obsidian-black shard he had taken nearly two feet long, curving wickedly, ending in a razor-sharp point. It landed with a weight that made the counter groan. It wasn't just bone; it was dense, like volcanic glass, yet unmistakably organic in its curve and texture. It pulsed faintly with a deep, residual heat, making the air above it shimmer slightly.
The color was unnatural a black so deep it seemed to absorb the light, yet streaked internally with veins of captured crimson, like frozen fire. The sheer presence of the object, the palpable aura of ancient power and primal violence it emitted, was overwhelming in the quiet bureaucratic room.
The clerk recoiled, stumbling back a step, knocking his stool over with a clatter. His spectacles fell off entirely. Others in the room gasped, some stepping back, others leaning forward in horrified fascination. The horn lay there, a brutal, undeniable truth on the smooth wood. It reeked faintly of ozone and deep earth, a scent utterly alien to the dust and ink of the hall.
The clerk stared, open-mouthed, his face ashen. He looked from the horn to Kai, then back to the horn. He saw the Stormguard badge. He remembered the tales of Emberhold. He saw the cold certainty in the stranger's black eyes. There was no question. No demand for further proof. This was not a trinket; it was a fragment of myth made terrifyingly real.
"M-mercy," the clerk breathed, finally finding his voice, though it trembled violently. He fumbled on the floor for his spectacles, shoved them onto his face with shaking hands, and stared again. "Y-you... you slew Ignis Ferox?"
Kai said nothing. He just looked at the horn, then back at the clerk, his expression impassive.
The clerk scrambled. He yanked open drawers, rifled through scroll tubes with frantic haste. He pulled out a heavy ledger bound in cracked leather, its pages yellowed. His fingers traced down lists, smudging ink. Finally, he found it. A thick entry, written in dense, formal script: Ignis Ferox. Blackroot Peaks. Destruction of Emberhold. Bounty: 50,000 Silver Crowns. Dead or Proof. Stormguard Sanctioned.
He looked up, his eyes wide behind the spectacles. "F-fifty thousand, sir. Authorized by the Stormguard charter, upheld by the Falls Rest Compact." He swallowed, his throat dry. "Payment... payment is held in the vault. It will... it will take time to count. Perhaps... perhaps an hour? We can offer a writ of claim immediately?"
Kai gave a single, curt nod. "The writ. Now. I will return for the coin."
The clerk practically tripped over himself. He grabbed a fresh sheet of heavy parchment, dipped a quill with shaking hands, and began to write furiously. His script, normally neat, was jagged with nerves. He detailed the claim, the proof presented (describing the horn in trembling terms), the bounty amount, and authorized payment upon verification (a mere formality now). He stamped it with the official seal of the Falls Rest Magistrate a stylized waterfall and oak tree and then, with a glance at Kai's badge, added a secondary stamp bearing a faded impression of a fist and lightning bolt he found in a dusty drawer.
He handed the parchment to Kai, his hand trembling. "H-here, sir. The writ. Present this to the treasury clerk when you return. They will honor it."
Kai took the parchment without looking at it. He folded it crisply and slipped it into an inner pocket of his clean, gray coat. He gave the dragon horn on the counter one last look. It seemed smaller now, just a piece of a dead monster, its terrifying aura fading slightly in the mundane setting. The proof was delivered. The claim was staked.
He turned on his heel. He didn't look at the stunned faces of the clerks or the gathered townsfolk. He didn't say another word. His boots echoed again on the flagstones as he walked back down the central aisle of the hall, past the silent, watching people, and pushed open the heavy oak door.
Morning sunlight flooded over him. The sounds of Haven's Rest the market calls beginning, the clang of the smithy, the distant lowing of cattle washed over him. He stood for a moment on the steps of the Magistrate's Hall, the writ heavy in his pocket, the weight of the dragon core familiar on his back. The smell of baking bread replaced the dust and ozone. The deed was acknowledged. The city of Emberhold, in some small way, was avenged. The bounty was his.