Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

in his home world. In this moment of peace, he even supposed that the previous day had been nothing but a vivid dream, and he was still lying in his bed. He even thought he smelled the pancakes his mother was cooking downstairs.
    Unfortunately, as soon as Samuel opened his eyes, he found himself inside a dirty, damp and foul-smelling tent. He tried to lift himself on his elbows, but his muscles protested, sore from sleeping directly on the cold, hard ground, without the comfort of a mattress or pillow. When he did succeed in turning around, he found himself face to face with an old bearded man, reeking of ale and greasy sweat. That sight was enough to give him back the necessary strength to get out of bed, and he was up and about in no time. Grabbing his sword and dagger, he quickly got out of the tent, in order to get some fresh air.
    Outside, a cold and spectral fog covered the camp. Adjusting the sheep pelt over his shoulders, Samuel looked around, unsure what he should do next. Despite the early hour, dozens of men were already busy around him, some of them getting breakfast ready, while others were gathering their things for the day’s walk. Unlike last night, when laughter and stories filled the air, this morning was all about duty and preparation.
    The boy walked away from the tent, where the bearded man still snored loudly. After a few steps, he found himself by the fire where he had sat the previous evening, now reduced to a pile of smoking ashes. Once again, he sat on the dry tree trunk and attempted to shake off the cobwebs in his head, trying to fully awaken from his short slumber.
    He would have given anything for a glass of orange juice, or even some coffee.
    Samuel thought of his conversation with Angeline. The little fairy had revealed many things to him, but the most troubling fact was certainly the presence of an enemy on Metverold, an agent of the dark forces: the Yfel. He had only been in this world for a day, but already he’d almost kicked the bucket a few times. However, these dangers had always been obvious and tangible, observable threats he could try to avoid or defend himself against. This nemesis was an unknown menace, hidden from their eyes. To know that someone in this world, perhaps very close by, was here specifically to confront him was decidedly unsettling.
    Staring at the fuming ashes of the dying fire, Samuel made a decision. The time for whining was over. Now he had to start acting like a man and fulfill his mission, no matter the dangers he would find on the way.
    Of course, it was easier said than done!
    “Good morning, Sam,” called Malloy, joining him on the dry log. He was carrying two bowls with him, filled with a colorless mixture that Samuel could not identify, and which looked worse than it smelled.
    “Here,” said the warrior, offering one of the bowls to Samuel. “Breakfast.”
    Samuel took the bowl. He studied at it for some time, then stared at Malloy, who was already eating his meal, using two of his fingers. Apparently, spoons were a luxury here.
    “No more whining,” remembered Samuel.
    He dug two fingers into the sticky mixture, closed his eyes and swallowed it.
    Oatmeal.
    Surprisingly, the mixture did not taste as bad as he had anticipated. To begin with, it was still warm. It did not have a lot of taste, but it could have been much worse. Malloy passed some bread to Samuel, so he could dip it in the oatmeal and use it as a makeshift spoon.
    It is funny how things suddenly appear much better when one stops complaining. Now that he had accepted his situation, Samuel felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
    “So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked.
    “Most of us think we are going toward the mountains to the west. There are rumors that Vortigern wants to build a fortress there, to stop the Saxons and defeat their army once and for all. I’m not sure if we’ll ever come across a place like that, but we’ll find out soon enough. We will probably reach our destination later this afternoon, if everything goes well.”
    Malloy dipped a piece of bread in his oatmeal.
    “A fortress?” asked Samuel.
    “That is what I heard.”
    “But, it will take years to complete.”
    “What?” said Malloy. “No it won’t. We have over fifteen thousand men here who will participate in the construction. It should be completed within a few weeks, at the most. We’re not building a castle for the king, only a simple fort, strong enough to