Chapter 82: What do you know about me, old man?
The grand hall of Ignis-Vara was alive with roaring laughter, the clinking of heavy iron mugs, and the mouth-watering aroma of roasted game. The wooden rafters echoed with the chatter of villagers and warriors gathered beneath stringed lanterns that cast a warm, amber glow across the crowded room.
Vince walked in flanked by his companions, his dark-navy coat making him stand out amongst the roughly clad locals.
Vetra’s slitted eyes instantly locked onto a massive spread at the far side of the hall.
"If anyone needs me, I’ll be over there,"
She purred, pointing a clawed finger toward a long wooden table stacked high with seasoned meat platters and barrels of dark ember ale.
Before Vince could even respond, she vanished into the crowd, charging toward her culinary prize.
Lyrielle stayed close to Vince’s side, her fingers subtly touching his elbow as they navigated deeper into the hall toward the VIP raised platform. Her emerald eyes scanned the party, keeping her regal posture intact despite the rowdy dragonkin music bouncing off the walls.
"Hello there, Ignar,"
Vince called out casually, spotting the village Chief standing near a carved obsidian table.
CLANG!
The two heavily armored guards standing beside the Chief snapped into action, instantly drawing their heavy, dragon-forged spears and pointing the gleaming tips directly at Vince’s chest.
"It’s Chief Ignar to you, human!" one of the guards barked.
Vince didn’t even flinch. He stood his ground, hands resting loosely in his pockets, staring back at the spearpoints with cool, bored eyes. The threat level was so low to him it was almost funny.
"Stand down,"
Chief Ignar commanded with a booming laugh, waving a thick hand to dismiss his men.
"The banquet is in his honor, after all. C’mon, this way."
The Chief gestured for them to follow, leading them toward an elevated, private lounge area reserved for high-ranking dragonkin nobles and war captains.
An attendant stepped forward, offering two crystal goblets filled with spiced wine. Chief Ignar raised his cup, offering a polite nod to Lyrielle.
"Welcome, Lady Lyrielle. Your beauty and grace do honor to our halls tonight."
"Thank you, Chief Ignar,"
Lyrielle replied gracefully, accepting her glass. Vince took his as well, taking a slow sip.
Vince kept his dark eyes locked onto the old leader, cutting straight through the pleasantries.
"Why go through the trouble of throwing me a banquet?"
Chief Ignar took a long drink from his horn, leaning back against his carved throne.
"Just showing our visitors a little dragonkin hospitality. After all, what you did was no small feat. Vetra hasn’t left the mountain peak in ages, yet she follows you like a shadow."
"Then I assume now that we’ve made our appearance, it’s okay for us to leave?"
Vince asked smoothly.
Ignar chuckled, shaking his head.
"Leave so soon? I doubt m’lady here would like that very much, considering the feast has barely started."
"Hmm..."
Vince muttered lowly, taking another sip of his drink as he digested the old man’s words.
"Honestly, though..."
Ignar’s voice dropped, the jovial tone fading as his golden eyes sharpened with an underlying message.
"I did want an audience with you. You’re quite peculiar, Vince... if you know what I mean."
Vince tilted his head slightly, his interest piqued.
"What do you mean?"
"Why don’t we speak in private?"
Ignar suggested, glancing briefly at Lyrielle.
Vince turned to look at Lyrielle. She gave him a gentle smile, lightly nudging his arm with her elbow.
"Go on,"
She murmured.
"I’ll be right here."
"Alright,"
Vince said.
Both men stood up from the lounge, leaving the noise of the main floor behind as they headed toward the back stairwell. Down below, at the far end of the hall, Vetra was already slamming down her fourth flaggon of ale, arm-wrestling a massive dragonkin warrior and roaring with laughter as she smashed his knuckles into the table.
---
The banquet structure was a traditional, elevated stronghold built from polished volcanic stone and dark teak. The second floor served as a private sanctuary for the Chief’s lineage, opening up into a sweeping, open-air balcony that overlooked the entire city of Ignis-Vara and the glowing lava veins of the mountain in the distance.
The cool night air brushed past them as Vince and Ignar stepped onto the balcony, staring out into the dark horizon.
For a long moment, silence stretched between them.
"I had only heard stories about you,"
Ignar spoke up quietly, resting his large, calloused hands on the stone railing.
"But getting to see you in person... you mask your true nature quite well."
Vince frowned slightly, his face neutral.
"Mask my true nature?"
Ignar turned his head, his battle-scarred face illuminated by the distant red glow of the volcano.
"Tell me... what do you know of creatures who are born without mana cores and unable to channel magic?"
Vince’s posture stiffened just a fraction.
Where is he going with this?
He thought internally, his mind racing.
Does this old man somehow know I was born magicless?
Aloud, Vince kept his voice impassive.
"Nothing much. Aside from the fact that they’re mocked, scorned, looked down on, and left for dead by the world they find themselves in."
Ignar looked at Vince, a gentle, surprisingly empathetic smile touching his rugged lips.
"Very much like yourself, isn’t it?"
Vince’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his mana faintly pulsing beneath his skin.
"What do you know about me, old man?"
Chief Ignar let out a soft, weathered laugh, turning back toward the valley.
"There was a time, long before the current kingdoms existed, when only the high elves possessed the power of magic,"
Ignar began, his voice carrying the weight of ancient history.
"The other races couldn’t perform magic at all, though they possessed inherent physical strengths. But then, everything changed during a mineral excavation along the eastern border..."
Vince listened intently, his hand resting on his coat pocket.
"Human miners uncovered a strange, pulsating orb buried deep within the earth,"
Ignar continued.
"The moment it made contact with the surface atmosphere, it exploded—releasing a worldwide shockwave of raw, primordial energy. That single event introduced mana and mana cores into our world, causing every race to evolve according to their inherent traits."
Vince’s brow furrowed.
"Why are you telling me this ancient history lesson?"
Ignar paused, turning around to face Vince directly. His golden, slitted eyes burned with absolute certainty.
"Because it was during that exact explosion... that your father was born."
Vince’s breath caught in his throat. His dark eyes widened in genuine, unscripted shock as the words echoed through his mind.