This is what happens when you mix discussions about worldbuilding, Tales cameo, and what kind of sidequests could happen on a Gaius side.

As always, I'm using some original terms: Ajur=Auj Oule, Khan Baliq=Kanbalar

The Poru people substitute "be" for "have" in the present perfect. Bear with me on that.

Many thanks to Cal for the help, ideas, and invaluable support!


Chapter One: The Chimeriad and the Visitor from the North

The sun was setting over the snowy peaks of Ajur. The white scenery below him was now glowing in reddish colors, reflecting the dying sunlight in every direction. The beauty of the view did not escape the king, but his mind was otherwise preoccupied. They had made too many stops on the way, wasted too much time. It would not be long before the mountains were engulfed in darkness. He gripped his wyvern's reigns tighter, willing it to fly a little faster. He faintly heard a protesting sound behind him at the increased speed, and silently apologized to his uncomfortable passenger. This was her first flight, and the experience was rough on her; in fact, she had been the reason for most of their stops. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, as he knew airsickness was not easy to overcome in one day. Nevertheless, they had no choice. They needed to press forward quickly if they wanted to avoid camping on some remote summit. The climes were getting warmer in this season, but temperatures were still freezing at night in the mountains, and none of them was equipped to spend the night in the harsh cold. They had to reach their destination as soon as possible.

He caught up with his guide, whose wyvern, an old beast who looked about to drop from the sky at any moment, was vigorously flapping her wings to stay ahead of her younger fellows. He made a note to bring her treats after this whole ordeal was over. If she did not keel over before that, anyway.

"Are we still far?" he shouted.

The wind muffled the other man's answer, but his outstretched arm was pointing to an oddly-shaped peak in the distance. Good. They might be able to reach it before the sun had completely set. Reassured, he fell back in line with his other companions. On his right, Jiao was riding alone on his personal wyvern, an enormous beast twice the size of regular ones—a rare species, apparently on the brink of extension, which the Kitarl clan was trying to preserve through a complex breeding program. Clad in his heavy fur coat, the giant seemed to withstand the rapidly dropping temperatures with little discomfort. Glancing to his left, he expected to find Wingul and Presa in a very different state, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that they were holding up well. Judging from the faint glow englobing them both, Presa, who was holding tight to Wingul from behind, had cast a warming arte around them. In the two years he'd known her, her mastery of spirit artes had always impressed him. His own passenger, the latest addition to their team, was clinging to him, her small body pressed against his back. He hoped he was at least shielding her from the prickly wind.

Just a little longer, Agria. We'll be there soon.


It had all started the previous day, when, in the middle of audiences, they had been alerted by a loud crash coming from the courtyard. He had sent Jiao and Wingul out first to investigate while he wrapped up his meeting, and when he finally joined them outside, the sight that greeted him was quite peculiar. He had a feeling then that their monotone routine of the past few months was about to be broken.

Jiao was tending to a frail-looking old wyvern while Wingul was berating a young man—most likely the rider—about illegal overflight of the castle. The man, who looked to be no older than twenty and was dressed in furs, was kneeling before him and seemed to be confounding himself in excuses, though his thick accent made it difficult to make out what he was mumbling exactly.

"Let off, Wingul," Jiao interrupted. "This poor old gal was exhausted and nearly passed out mid-flight. It's a miracle she managed to crash-land without any injury. Yer a good gal," he added, petting the beast's head gently. She rumbled with contentment.

"Thank you thank you thank you…" the young man said, turning to Jiao.

Wingul paused, analyzing the situation. "Fine. Let's class it as an accident," he resumed with a sigh. "State your name and purpose."

"N-Name?" the man repeated, before bowing down and announcing in a loud voice "I am Oleg, son of Olav of the Poru tribe. I am come to see Ahmad, His Majesty, king most revered!"

He bowed deeper when he realized all eyes were now on him.

The speechless silence that followed was only interrupted when Agria, who had followed Gaius outside with Presa, could no longer contain her curiosity.

"Who?"

"King Ahmad Sarakhs," Presa whispered hurriedly in response. "A previous king of Ajur."

Wingul glanced at Gaius, disbelief evident on his face, before he turned back to the man.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. King Ahmad passed away a long time ago."

Oleg's face fell.

"B-But gramps told me to find Ahmad His Majesty. What should I do now?"

"Why do you want to see him anyway?" Wingul questioned him further.

"Gramps told me he could help us, because he's the king of Ajur, most revered." Oleg added proudly: "Gramps met him when he was young!"

"And how old is your grandfather?"

"He'll be 113 this year!"

"That explains it," Wingul muttered. Turning back to Gaius, he gave him a look that meant 'It's in your hands now.'

Gaius stepped forward and spoke to the young man.

"King Ahmad died three decades ago, and I, Gaius, took the throne from his son Merad nine years ago. If it is the king of Ajur you seek, I shall hear what you have come to say."

Eyes wide, Oleg crawled toward him and prostrated himself at his feet.

"Gaius, Your Majesty, king most revered! Please help our tribe!"

Oleg's story was hard to follow, but if he understood correctly, it was about an evil spirit, a mating season (?), ecological disasters, and a menace to the world. And something about ex-bears, but he was not sure what that meant.

The possibility of an evil spirit threatening the world was concerning enough that Gaius decided to go in person and—since things were rather calm in the capital these days—he decided to bring the whole Chimeriad with him. After all, they did not know what kind of menace they were up against this time, and while he was confident he could take out any army, evil spirits were new to him. It was better to be prudent and bring strong allies along.


It was well past dark when they finally landed, but fortunately the villagers had anticipated their arrival and lit a little clearing with torches, enabling them to maneuver to the ground safely. About a dozen people had gathered at the sound of wings flapping, and awe could be seen on every face lit by the fires.

They disembarked, a little disoriented by the long flight, and Agria immediately ran to the nearest bush.

"Do you even have anything left in your stomach?" Presa called to her.

"Shut up, hag," was the only response.

"You don't look too good yourself," Wingul remarked. "Did I fly too roughly?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just tired. I used too much mana, that's all."

"Your arte was appreciated," Wingul thanked her. She gave him a small smile in return, and they then turned their attention to the small group of villagers who had gathered around Oleg, who was recounting his arrival to the capital to them.

The man who approached them next introduced himself as Olav, son of Olven, chief of the Poru tribe, and invited them to lodge in his house for the duration of their stay. He had the same accent as his son.

"We're a small village, you see," he explained on the way. "There isn't any inn or anything like that for visitors, but my house is the largest in the village. My wife, Olga, is making beds for all of you as we are speaking."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Not at all! It's rare to see outsiders here, so we're happy to welcome you, especially since you're come to save us," Olav replied brightly. "We're pretty isolated, so you best prepare to be the young'uns' attraction for a while," he added with a deep chuckle.

Isolated was one way to put it. The village, roughly at half a day's flight North-West of Khan Baliq, was situated in a valley deep into the Altai Mountain Range and seemed to be secluded from the rest of civilization. In fact, up to the previous day, Gaius had had no idea the area was even inhabited. He had never heard of the Poru tribe, and Wingul had not been able to dig anything from the tribe census archives. He wondered if the place was even accessible without wyverns. That would explain why there was no mention of them anywhere.

"I hope dinner'll be served soon, because I'm starving!" announced Agria.

"The contrary would shock me, considering you couldn't keep down your lunch," Presa teased.

"Ha ha, well, if she's hungry, it must mean she's feeling better now. That's good to hear. It'll all be forgotten after a good night's rest."

"Jiao is right," Gaius added. "We should take it easy tonight and take the opportunity to rest and recuperate."

His words were met with a chorus of "Yes, Your Highness" just as they reached a large building. It was hard to make out the contours in the dark, but the place seemed imposing.

"We're here," Olav told them.

The interior of the house was made of wood. It was a single large square room, with a hearth in the center, somewhat like in the village of Maxwell worshippers, and wooden partitions were separating the different areas of the room. Those partitions were decorated with what seemed to be, upon closer inspection, paintings of bears. The floor of the resting area they were led to by a jovial woman named Olga was covered in fur mats. Gaius realized as he sat down that the partitions were not the only bear-themed decorations in the house. The ceiling beams were engraved with bear faces, and little bear statuettes were lining up the window sills. There was also a rather hideous bear head hung right above the entrance door.

The room was well-heated, and they all removed their coats, welcoming the warmth. Agria's face, in particular, seemed to regain colors over time, and even Wingul could not resist letting out a small sigh of relief as he sat down next to him. The journey had been trying, and they were all glad to finally sit on the ground, in a warm house, with the delicious smell of their upcoming dinner filling the air. He himself had to admit he was tired and hungry.

They were joined for dinner by Oleg and his grandfather, who was ecstatic to meet 'Ahmad, His Majesty, king most revered!' again.

"You're gotten younger than the last time I saw you," he told Gaius, teary-eyed.

"That's 'cause he's not the same king, gramps," Oleg explained, laughing.

It took some time to get it through the old man that Gaius was, in fact, a completely different person than the then young king Ahmad he had met 92 years ago, but in the end he seemed to accept it, and proceeded to entertain his guests with tales of his youth. This is how they learned that Aya, the old wyvern that had bravely carried Oleg both ways, had been a present from King Ahmad himself. She had since been the village's only mean of transport to other places, which they sometimes used to stock on supplies. The village was otherwise quite self-sufficient, and they rarely had any contact with outside tribes. Visitors were even rarer, though according to Oleg a young girl speaking a strange language had come with her mother to settle in three years prior and was allegedly monopolizing all of his brother's time.

Gaius thought he could listen to the family's stories all evening, but he decided to call it a night when Agria nearly fell asleep into her porridge bowl. Presa was also too tired to tease her about it, and he could see that Wingul was fighting sleep as well, even as he asked questions about the tribe's situation. There would be time for more questions in the coming days. For now, it was better to rest.

They all snuggled comfortably in the beds that had been laid out for them in a corner of the house, with a large partition offering them some privacy. The partition's painted bears seemed to be looking over them as they fell asleep.

That night, Gaius dreamed he was a bear gallivanting around forests and rivers, rolling down hills and basking in moonlight. It was quite a pleasant dream, until dark clouds gathered above his head without warning and unleashed a fury of rain and thunder upon him.

He woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. A quick glance around him showed him that his companions were all awake as well, and all had the same shocked look on their faces.

In the distance, he could hear thunder rumbling.