The Story of Regeneration

“Come on, hurry up! It’s soaking out here!” shouted one of teenaged cousins to the other, as they ran through the storming night in a tiny village, “We’ll be frozen by the time we get to the tavern!”

“You know I can’t run as fast as you, Dran, and the pub is just around the corner!” yelled the other, over the howling wind.

“Well then, Gekk, you should come hunting with me more often, instead of being cooped up in that library of yours!” Dran shouted back, just as they arrived at the Flaming Lizard, the village’s local tavern.

The Flaming Lizard looked like most taverns, a two story building with a bar on the main floor with rooms for guests to stay in on top. Above the door was a sign that had the words “The Flaming Lizard” with a Wyvern breathing fire on the words, and below that was “Home of the Dragon Breath Ale!”

Dran and Gekk were greeted with the usual “Hey!” and “How’s it going?” that the tavern’s usuals gave one another as they walked in. The tavern was packed as it always is at nights, the only open spaces were by a traveler in a corner, or up at the counter with one of the village’s scholars.

“Gekk! Just the scholar I wanted to see!” exclaimed a man by the gambling tables, “Old Warden won’t give me a hand, I want the know the odds of winning this game!”

“Alright, but if you win, I get a portion of the winnings!!” answered Gekk.

The man chuckled, “Fine, fine... what if I lose?”

“Well then, you made a poor investment.” replied Gekk.

The man and surrounding people all laughed, “That’s not fair! Ah, what the hell, get over here!”

“I’ll get drinks and sit by Warden.” Dran said to Gekk, and he walked off to sit next to the scholar.

About an hour later...

“So, in hindsight, I should have added the Amethyst first?” Gekk asked Warden.

“In theory, that should have transmuted the marble into basalt.” Warden replied, looking at the notes on the counter.

“I see... “ said Gekk, “Unfortunately, I’m all out of Amethyst, so I’m going to have to wait until the winter traders get here so I can buy some more. Hey, where’d Dran go?”

Warden looked around: “Ah crap... not again. Record time with the alcohol though...”

Dran was standing at the corner table, talking to the traveler: “Why you sitting here, avoiding everyone?”

The traveler replied: “I’m merely resting on my trip to the mountains. There’s no need for me to be social.”

“So you think you’re too good for us? I’ll prove that I’m as good as you!” said Dran, drawing his blade.

“I never said anything of the sort, now stay your blade, lest you get hurt.”

“Why you!” yelled Dran as he swung his sword.

The cloaked traveler caught it. His hand encased in ice.

The entire tavern was silent, then the whispering burst all at once: “A mage? That’s impossible!”, “Oh god, do you think he’s going to kill Dran?”, and “Can he be? Nah... must be the seventh son...” were just some of the snippets of conversations going on.

The traveler pushed Dran to the floor, and made his way to the staircase the lead to the guest rooms.

Then Gekk asked Warden: “Do you think he’s the seventh son of a seventh son?”

“He could be, but even then it’d be an unlikely chance... but I know he’s not.”

“How so?”

“Earlier today, while I was gathering water from the well, I saw him talking to the ancient oak. He then placed something under the rock within the roots, I tried to move it again, but it wouldn’t budge.”

“Are you saying... but I thought they were extinct...”

“Same here... turns out, the elves still live among us.”