ã€ŠSecret of Wyrithã€‹


 Chapter 1

    It had been said that when an adventurer is needed, trouble is surely not far behind. But in most cases, they were the only ones who could finish a job too difficult for anyone to tackle, or lack of attention to it made even the job poster apathetic. Sometimes, they accepted their circumstances, and others, hopelessly broken by the terror, turned to worship the danger they once tried to rid, and the knights were seen as a nuisance. Worse, they became the terror these poor souls couldn''t rid.

    Most wandering knights were seen as this unstoppable force because of their experience. Many knights were former soldiers of fortune looking that changed their ways. Many of them did not learn their craft in the official way, but resorted in unconventional means, even mixing and matching certain disciplines to success. This made them more reliable than rank-and-file soldiers. That is, of course, if they''re reliable.

    Which is why, the best knights wandering for a job do not necessarily boast about their achievements and preferred to just sit around a tavern or an adventurer''s guild, look at the job postings, take one they felt capable of, get the gold, and went off to another adventure, sometimes not even looking back. These knights were rare, for they did have a skill to tackle the job they chose, and not someone who seem to know what they were doing, only to fail miserably.

    Yes, miserably as in dead.

    But we are not here to talk about those kinds of knights. Here is a story about a certain knight who happened to get a job within a kingdom he wandered in. Like many of these knights, he had no affiliations, and he had no interest in becoming tied to all the politics. He was there to get the gold and save up to retire.

    And none could give him the right amount of gold than slaying a dragon plaguing a town. He was a perfect man for the job.

    And without knowing it at first, he was right because he did not know the full story.

    Ever since Bartlett Evans chose to become an adventurer, he had wished for recognition and glory associated with it. And so, he began traveling, hoping to find adventures whenever he went. Like many wanderers, his exploits and his capabilities started to turn heads, and he became a popular adventurer, mostly because he was not petty when it came to jobs. He was known not to refuse a job, no matter how simple it looked. If the only available job in the town or village he visited happened to be a rat problem, he''d take it. He didn''t care. The money''s good and his attitude was good enough that he made an impression. He may not aware of it, but he heard songs about himself sung in taverns by bards. If he was younger, he would not hesitate to take the stage and tell everyone who he was. He lamented the fact that he did not have the opportunity to do so before he wizened up with age.

    In time, taking menial jobs would not help him, so he started taking increasingly difficult jobs, culminating in jobs that involved dragons. The magical beasts usually tried to shy away from civilization and prefer to do whatever they do best: to breed and to survive. However, unlike many animals, they do know the concept of good, evil, and greed. Like all the races that dominate the world, dragons were no exceptions.

    However, despite his penchant of taking any jobs he could, he preferred the jobs to capture the dragons instead of slaying them. He wasn''t the kind of person who wanted to be called a dragon slayer, though unfortunately, this belief was not shared by many. For many, the glory associated with a dragon slayer was too hard to refuse. Fortunately, that title was only ever given to a select few people, for a very good reason.

    Dragons were rare enough that only a select group of people could even have a chance to slay one. Not only that, but dragons were also dangerous. Bartlett understood his skills enough to know that slaying a dragon was something reserved for someone who not only deserved it, but also had no guilty conscience. There was an emphasis on the word ''rare'' for the man, and he preferred not to see such magnificent creatures be extinct. So, capturing a juvenile dragon that did not mean to cause trouble was more satisfying than cutting an evil dragon''s head off, cut off its tongue, show that he was the real slayer instead of someone claiming to off its head, and marry the princess. While it sounded like a cliched story, it was indeed a fact. Heroes of times past were remembered for this feat.

    But Bartlett had no trouble slaying a dragon if he believed the dragon was evil. Unfortunately, he could be a little too gullible about it.

    So, when Bartlett walked into a guild looking for a job, he instantly became intrigued by the job posted on the wall marked ''Urgent''. Bartlett was not the first to be there, though. Many young adventurers of all known races, ranging from humans, elves, orcs, halflings, dwarves, and an assortment of beast people looked at the job posting.

    It was a job with a hefty gold prize of fifty thousand gold coins that it felt like a scam. Fifty thousand gold coins could mean a lot of things, but it was undeniably a lot. It could range from buying a modest house with a farm or be invested in opening a store. If someone thought that''s too boring, they could buy enchanted weapons, or even pledge their honor to marry anyone they wanted. I mean, why not? There is a reason why gold''s the currency; it''s stable, so fifty thousand gold coins would always be worth fifty thousand gold coins.

    The caveat, though, came from the job itself. It was a dragon slaying job. Not a problem for someone with experience, but for most, that''s too high of a peak to climb. The posting also noted that the dragon in question had claimed many experienced hunters'' life and was vicious. If it wasn''t for this exaggerated description, anyone gullible enough would simply take it thinking they would be the one to claim the glory of joining a select group of dragon slayers, immortalized in history.

    But it had been years since totally gullible warriors and mages fell for this kind of high-risk high-reward job. If it wasn''t for the incident where a young party of adventurers were wiped out by goblins, long thought to be easy monsters to pick with, anyone who wished for a quick way to glory would take the job, boast about it, then die and be forgotten. Even goblins were smart enough to produce mages; that fact was something that the young adventurers arrogantly dismissed, thinking that their own mage could deal with them.

    It was unfortunate that the ''coward'' way of dealing with them, in this case, gaining their trust then poisoning their wine barrels, was also looked down upon for not something a hero would do. It was smart, just not honorable.

    It had been years since the goblins were a menace. That story happened almost 30 years ago, long before Bartlett even considered himself to be an adventurer. Nowadays, the younger goblins had abandoned their ways after the god they worshipped turned out to be a demon. There were not a lot of jobs involving them unless it was conspiracy related. Bartlett would not want to be involved by it, knowing how complicated it could be.

    Noting these facts, Bartlett was aware of the risks involved and he would just shrug it off if it wasn''t for someone noticing him. He was the only one at that time who looked at the job, shrugged it off without even commenting on the rewards, and took his time going to the bar and ordering a drink. Also, he was the only one who carried a weapon strong enough to potentially slay a dragon: that of an enchanted magic sword with an ornate hilt and a round shield big enough to cover the one using it. Anyone with enough understanding of swords would know that it was the very weapon that could slay a dragon.

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    So, while the other adventurers discussed what to do, the man walked to him and sat across the table. Bartlett looked at him and smiled, attempting to be polite.

    "This the first time I''ve ever seen someone uninterested in a dragon slaying job," said the man.

    "I''m still young," said Bartlett with a smile. "I''m not risking my life taking on a dragon. I''m not a glory-seeker."

    "Surely that''s not your only reason. From the look of it, you could easily take on the beast with that sword of yours."

    "Still not gonna risk it. And besides, fifty thousand gold? It''s too good to be true."

    "It is," said the man with a nod. "But tell me. Is it too much price for the description?"

    "The description does make the dragon sound dangerous, but I know them. They can be reasoned with."

    The man looked at Bartlett with a raised eyebrow.

    "So, you have dealt with one before," he surmised. "Guess my hunch is right."

    "Your hunch?"

    The man invited Bartlett to the second floor, intending to talk to him in private. Bartlett was a little confused but was also reluctant. He felt that this stranger was rather shady. He was not talking straight with him ever since they met.

    Nevertheless, Bartlett had a feeling that he might not regret it.

    Bartlett followed the man to the second floor, away from the crowd on the main floor. He chose the furthest table, away from many ears, including those with sharp enough ears to listen in. The second floor had less people as it was reserved for those who preferred the peace and quiet away from adventurers celebrating a successful mission. The adventurer''s hall catered to other townsfolks who simply wanted to relax, or to use the inn.

    "I''m Nolan," said the man. "What''s yours?"

    "Bartlett," said Bartlett.

    Nolan then invited Bartlett to sit across the table, which he did.

    "The price on the dragon''s head is not there to dissuade people," explained Nolan. "The king himself agreed to that price."

    "The king of Manarithia?" said Bartlett in disbelief.

    Nolan looked around, then leaned in and whispered, "The king of Wyrith."

    The mention of ''Wyrith'' caused Bartlett to look at Nolan as if he was lying.

    "What?" said Bartlett. "Is this a joke?"

    "Unfortunately, it''s not. This dragon took the princess and absconded itself to Manarithia. If we could, we would deploy soldiers to get to it, but you know the reason why we can''t."

    "Yeah. You clearly took a lot of risks asking me to do your job. What if I happened to be a Manarithian knight, hmm?"

    "You won''t, because you''re not." Nolan took a glance at Bartlett. "I know a knight when I see one. And because I know you are Bartlett Evans."

    Bartlett chuckled dryly. "So, my reputation precedes me. Are you sure it''s wise? I''m clearly a Manarithian. I doubt anyone in Wyrith would sing songs about me."

    "No one would dare sing about a Manarithian hero, not when we''re at war."

    "I''m not a hero," said Bartlett with a scoff.

    "Act humble all you want. Your skills are still the reason why I''m here talking to you and not some upstart thinking he''s hero material. Only you can do this, Mr. Evans."

    Bartlett sighed. Being an adventurer was one thing, but this was the first time he had ever worked with a nation at war with his homeland. He may not think much about the politics, but this could count as treason if anyone ever knew that he worked for the king of Wyrith, of all people.

    Yet he had a feeling that if he refused to hear this Nolan person''s proposition, he might end up hiring someone with less tact, and the job would end up failing miserably. Bartlett couldn''t boast his achievements, but at least he was aware of his own skills.

    So, reluctantly, he said, "Say I accept the job. What should I be aware of? Fifty grand is a lot of gold for a dragon job. Thirty grand is usually the price. Fifteen if it''s just a wyvern."

    "This is not your run-of-the-mill dragon¡ª"

    "Dragons are never run-of-the-mill. What the hell are you talking about?"

    Nolan cleared his throat and said, "I mean it''s smart. It never stayed in one place, or to find a mate. It had been a bane to the countryside, laying villages to waste and burning down crops. It then got bold and terrorized the castle until finally, it managed to get the princess. Then to our embarrassment, the reason why it never got caught is because the princess was...actively helping the dragon escape our grasp."

    "You know that''s bullshit, right?" said Bartlett, crossing his arms. "I know they can understand human speech, but humans don''t generally fall for a dragon."

    Nolan let out an exasperated sigh. "It''s not our policy to question the king''s family. If the royal highness is...troubled, it''s not our business. Some princesses do have a rebellious streak, after all."

    Bartlett was not satisfied with the Wyrithian''s claim. He seemed to be hiding some vital information about the dragon. However, it wasn''t Bartlett''s business prying into a personal business, even if it happened to be Wyrithian in nature. In fact, he had a feeling that prying further would only draw ire, and he would end up in more trouble than its worth, considering how he, a Manarithian, was working with Wyrithian soldiers. He then tempered his curiosity and let out sigh.

    "Okay, I understand," said Bartlett. "So, what? You expect me to slay the dragon alone?"

    "Oh, no, not alone," said Nolan. "I''m coming with you, along with three more. They''re hand-picked, and they all have experience fighting monsters. It''s up to your expertise to make this a smooth job. I won''t lie. They may not have any experience against dragons, but then...they got us. So, don''t worry. I know what I''m doing. I hope you do."

    Bartlett wanted to reconsider, feeling that everything was too good to be true. But the fact that the money was good, and Nolan sounded rather frustrated by the princess''s antics, were enough to convince Bartlett that it was an offer he did not want to refuse.

    He had no qualms about slaying dragons. In fact, he slayed one before. He was just worried that this might not be something as simple as Nolan claimed it was. But then, the money....

    It did not take long for him to consider.

    "I''ll take the job," said Bartlett. "On one condition. I do not need to be recognized by the king, or even the princess. We slay the dragon and I get the gold. That''s all. No title, no nothing."

    "You wouldn''t want to refuse the king''s gift," said Nolan.

    "Hey, I don''t want to be seen as a sell-out. In fact, I don''t want to pledge my allegiance to you, or anyone. If this is a political move, I will have to refuse, got it? I''ll do my job, then leave."

    "But¡ª"

    "Got it?"

    Bartlett''s insistence caused Nolan to sigh in disappointment, which only proved that Bartlett was right that this job was not as it was.

    "The king will see this as an insult, Evans," said Nolan.

    "If you''re so concerned about it, then why don''t you take the glory to yourself? I''ll get the gold, but you''ll get the glory. What you do with that glory is up to you."

    "Well, if that''s the case, then alright," said Nolan. "And since it''s settled, we can start."

    Nolan then pulled out a map. Bartlett could tell that it was right at the edge of the Wyrithian-Manarithian border, though it would still take at least a day or two by horse. The Wyrithian then pointed at a circle dot with the name of the town they were in, Agledal, in cursive.

    "We''re here," said Nolan, before slowly moving his finger towards a mountain range. "It''s here."

    "What?" Bartlett checked on the distance and murmured things under his breath. "The dragon''s just a couple of hour ride from here?"

    "What''s wrong with that?"

    "I never even heard about any disturbances in the nearby forest! A dragon would certainly cause a stir!"

    "Like I said. It''s not supposed to be public knowledge," said Nolan. "If it knows we''re onto it, it will go deeper into Manarithia and we''ll end up complicating our situation further."

    "How can you be so sure that it''ll wait for us there?" asked Bartlett.

    "Dragons are like animals, too, you know," said Nolan. "If they think they''re safe, they won''t move."

    "Except this dragon doesn''t do anything a normal dragon do."

    "Yeah, well...we just have to risk it, then."

    Bartlett wasn''t someone who would be suspicious of someone trying to hunt a dragon, but unlike Nolan, he knew dragons. The dragon they were describing was far too shrewd and far too elusive. Also, the fact that it stayed in a place so close to civilization while it could easily migrate somewhere else made it seemed that it was deliberately staying because it was waiting for something. Bartlett had already suspected that there was something more to this than just a dragon slaying mission, but he couldn''t tell if anything was wrong.

    Nevertheless, Bartlett did not want to alienate Nolan further. He felt that he was the only one who could do what others wouldn''t dare do: face a dragon and possibly slay it. He''d prefer to capture the dragon instead, but it wasn''t his call to make it. In fact, he had better learn how not to complain if he wanted to keep the job.

    The great prize on the dragon''s head was not something he would turn down, not when he was specifically picked for the job.

    He only hoped that this job was as simple as it was.

 Chapter 2

    The hours of their journey shouldn''t take too long if Nolan and his chosen soldiers were warm and open to conversation. They were aware of Bartlett being a Manarithian and acted cold towards him. Bartlett had a feeling that they did not agree with Nolan''s assertion that a celebrated Manarithian adventurer should be the one finishing their job, even though Bartlett made it clear that he only wanted the gold, not the recognition. Even Nolan, who was relatively friendly back in the guild, became a serious person whose primary concern was the dragon''s death. Bartlett soon noticed that he never even mentioned the princess or even worry for her safety, which could be due to his bitterness over the princess''s rebellious nature.

    The travel to the forest was not a pleasant experience, either. The war between Manarithia and Wyrith had been going on for almost two years with only an uneasy truce stopping the two kingdoms from causing further damage. Even in Agledal, there were evidence of damage from the war, given Agledal''s proximity to the border. If Bartlett cared enough, he would be greatly insulted by the Wyrithians mingling with the locals near the ruins as if mocking the Manarithians'' efforts in the war.

    But he learned to swallow his pride a long time ago. Not only was it for the best, but it was also to ensure that he got a good deal out of a job. Many people respected him for it. Some mocked him for apparently acting like a bootlicker. Bartlett only cared for his own life, because it was necessary for survival.

    Hours later, they finally reached the edge of the forest where the dragon was reported to be. Bartlett started to worry that the dragon could have already moved, and their travel was in vain. But against all odds, it stayed, at least based on the testimony of one of the villagers living near the forest.

    "No unusual movement," said Nolan. "And it''s not spying on us, either."

    "Spying on us?" asked Bartlett.

    "It doesn''t need to see soldiers," said one of the soldiers. "There was one time where one of ours made a mistake while the dragon was flying overhead. That mistake cost us three months of our search."

    "That wasn''t really a mistake, though," said Nolan. "The dragon''s just perceptive, that''s all."

    "Oh, really? Wouldn''t you be suspicious if I happened to be fumbling around your home, watching you so indiscreetly? I''d declare you a stalker there and then."

    "That''s...well, you got a point. But the point is, that dragon''s flying overhead. She''s nowhere near her lair."

    "Look, why don''t we just get this over with before you jinx it further?" said Bartlett. "We''re here for a job, remember?"

    "Yes. And you need your money," said Nolan. "Well, we don''t have time to waste."

    They walked through the thick forest until they found a river and a clearing. There was an open cave visible from where they were, complete with burning torch. If there were any indication at all, it was as if the dragon was inviting them in.

    "Oh, she''s a cheeky one," commented one of the soldiers. "Even without her flame, she''s still goading us."

    Nolan hushed him, then silently glanced at Bartlett, who heard his comment.

    "She? You mean the princess?"

    "Don''t think too much about it, Evans," said Nolan, brandishing his sword. "Let''s get this over with before the dragon wizened up."

    As they approached cave opening, Bartlett asked, "So, what did you do? Accidentally broke her eggs so she took revenge?"

    "You''re taking the dragon''s side now?" asked another soldier.

    "I''m just trying to confirm something. I know some dragons can be motivated by greed, but they don''t exactly migrate as much as this dragon do. Dragons don''t act like this, even if it was for the princess."

    "Yet, it happened," said Nolan. "You know dragons like a hoard of gold, don''t you? This might be a way for it to ransom the king."

    One of the soldiers chuckled. "I''d like to see her try."

    While Bartlett was pondering about the best course of action, he did not see Nolan glaring at said soldier for some unspecified reason, with the soldier himself shrugging and downplaying the whole reason, silently pointing out that Bartlett did not notice. Nolan, however, wasn''t so sure.

    Reaching the lair, Bartlett soon realized that this dragon was not acting like any dragon he ever dealt with. In fact, from the look of it, the dragon was small, which presented another problem. The cave was not a vast room, but instead it was full of branching paths and openings that could easily lead to nowhere or even certain death. It reminded Bartlett of an ant farm.

    As Bartlett admired the cave system, Edge the Wyrithian soldiers under his command started to pull out torches and handed it to each of them. Nolan then said, "Remember. We can''t afford to get separated in a cave like this. We get lost together or we end up losing someone or everyone, got it? Now, I have a beacon planted on the entrance, linked to these pathfinders. They are powered by the same magic, so all you got to do is push the little red button on the side of this device."

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Nolan handed an oval-shaped locket-like object which looked unremarkable, but once Bartlett pushed the red button and walked away from the planted beacon, he saw a wispy, bright line that led the way back to the beacon. It was also a confirmation that the device was working.

    "Good to know that you''ve used the device before," said Nolan with a smile.

    "This is not my first labyrinthine cave system," boasted Bartlett.

    One of the soldiers scoffed, apparently unappreciative of Bartlett''s achievement.

    "Now, the cave did not look like it would stretch on for miles, so I hope this would be a quick job. Come on. We better finish this when we still have light. I''d hate to camp near the dead dragon''s body."

    Bartlett was a little disconcerted upon hearing the dragon was going to be definitively killed, but he knew better than to make an argument that could lead to them failing the job. He better prepared himself for the death of the dragon, and to probably find some good words to convince the princess that she was not helping herself by siding with the dragon.

    With the soldiers prepared, they entered the first of the three openings, hoping this would lead them to the dragon. They felt it wouldn''t be too hard to traverse with the pathfinder item spread among them. They, however, forgot one very glaring mistake.

    The dragon was clever. Too clever for their own good. It spied on them near one of the cave openings that they did not enter. Once they were gone, the dragon walked out of its hiding spot and spotted the pathfinder beacon, which it promptly crushes with its foreleg. It smirked, knowing that only it knew the cave system, and that it had many surprises hidden within as they traversed through the cave to their doom.

    Not long after Bartlett, Nolan, and the rest of the soldiers entered the cave, they heard rumblings that could only be associated with falling rocks. Nolan and the soldiers were quickly separated from Bartlett when chunks of heavy rocks, held by rafters, were dropped between them. Bartlett was slightly further away from the and narrowly missed the rocks. One of the soldiers, however, was less fortunate. The rocks crushed him.

    "By Vernius! Edge! Evans!" exclaimed Nolan.

    "That dragon is expecting us," said one of the surviving soldiers. "We need to find another way around."

    "Don''t be a fool! This is what expects us to do! We need to outsmart her!"

    "In her own home? Good luck with that."

    Nolan groaned as he realized that this would not be a simple task. Evans, their expert, was taken out first, which meant that either the dragon knew what she was doing, or she was just lucky. Whatever the case, they must finish their mission. They couldn''t afford to fail, not when the dragon was so close.

    At least he could feel glad that Bartlett Evans would never know what their real mission was.

    Meanwhile, Bartlett, on the other side, could not hear their call. He called for them, hoping that anyone could hear him, before he gave up. He did not see the tripwire or feel anything, which could only mean one thing.

    "That dragon did it," he concluded. "Interesting."

    He had heard dragons learning how to act like a human, especially when it came to traps, but he never thought he would be the one trapped by it. To think he would be outsmarted by a dragon.

    "Well, at least I had the...huh?"

    He pushed the red button on the locket several times, but no red, wispy trail appeared. It soon became clear that the dragon had clearly anticipated them and was trapping them in the cave. It could easily hide in one of the openings and spied on them and made sure that they would never escape once they entered its lair. With no other choice, Bartlett pressed on, hoping that it would not become a one-way trip for him.

    Along the way, he started pondering about the dragon''s intellect. While there was no doubt that dragons were intelligent, not all of them were elusive enough to set up an elaborate trap. It almost felt like it was expecting them and lay a trap. It almost acted like a human. Bartlett suspected the princess''s involvement, and that there was something more than meets the eye. The soldiers seemed more concerned with slaying the dragon than rescuing the princess. Nolan only ever mentioned the princess in the tavern and never even mention anything about her to the soldiers under his command. It was as if the princess was not their priority.

    At first, Bartlett thought it was a secret that was not privy to an outsider like him. The king could have disowned his daughter to prevent a scandal. Or there was more to it than what they divulged. It could probably turn out to be an unexpected twist. Now, Bartlett wasn''t a stranger to twists. Many of the jobs he took, while straightforward, had something of a twist in how they ended, though it was rare enough that he could count them with his ten fingers. There was an incident where he thought the ''rat problem'' posted in a guild''s office was referring to the rats as vermin, while instead it was about a cat that had been eating the pet rat of the owner (and yes, Bartlett was aware that not all rats were as big as dogs). There was also another incident where a confusion with the description of the job caused Bartlett to hunt a beast race rather than a proper beast. The beast race in question, the hyena-like gnolls, were completely different from the beast he was trying to hunt, a monster that did not even resemble an animal and were responsible for the disappearances in the area, which were soon attributed to drownings due to the monster drowning them and turning them into ghoulish, bloated monsters like it was.

    Bartlett tried to focus instead of remembering the gruesome details of that job. It showed that, in the big and varied world of Latterra , there was bound to be undiscovered facts and twists that could surely turn into a headache.

    Soon, he found a source of light, which alerted him. It could be yet another trap for weary knights or soldiers who were already disheartened by the cave''s layout and the trap that essentially closed off their only (obvious) means of exiting the cave. Hoping that Nolan and his soldiers found his way out or at least found the dragon, Bartlett steeled himself and walked towards the light source.

    He was then surprised by the dragon''s hoard, which...wasn''t exactly very impressive, to say the least. It was only a small amount of gold compared to the other trinkets around it. This even made Bartlett wondered if the twist in this job happened to be that the dragon was not a dragon, but instead a giant raven. Ravens did have a penchant to take shiny objects and were not necessarily gold. Then again, not everything has to be as weird as it should be.

    "Well, I guess even dragons need to satisfy their need to hoard, somehow," said Bartlett, scratching his head. "Now, where is the princess?"

    He called the princess. There was no reply. He tried again, this time louder. He immediately got a reply.

    But instead of a call from a human, it was a growl. A deep, rumbling growl that could send shivers down a man. It came from behind him, which startled him.

    He slowly turned around, a little terrified of what he would face. He soon found himself facing the dragon. It was glaring at him, but nevertheless sat as if it was expecting him.

    Bartlett found the dragon, though part of him felt that the dragon found him instead.

 Chapter 3

    The dragon wasn''t big, which made sense, given how it chose the cave as its lair. It was slender and built more for speed than strength, which reminded Bartlett of a cheetah or a greyhound. It had a light gray with pinkish or purplish hue color for scales, making it very regal-looking, though it was not a common scale color for a dragon. The dragon''s wings were folded neatly beside her. What awed Bartlett was the fact that the wings were translucent, almost like an insect''s, albeit still looking like a flight membrane should be. Her claws were sharp, with Bartlett surmising that they would be sharp enough to penetrate armor. Her horns were like corals, and she was covered in blonde-colored mane. Her eyes were a pair of beautiful blue, reptilian eyes, staring at him softly. They reminded him of a pair of feminine eyes, which, supported by the dragon''s size and its angular face, further indicated that the dragon was, indeed, a female.

    He wondered if the dragon came from the Hoki empire, beyond the desert and the Jubari Nation. Her characteristics were similar to the dragons the Hoki had, but with a body of a Manarithian dragon. A cross-bred, perhaps. Whatever the case, the dragon was still a dragon, and that meant danger.

    Bartlett tried not to make sudden moves; the dragon''s eyes were trained on him. He knew the dragon could react much faster than he was. One wrong move, and he would end up the dragon''s dinner.

    The dragon did not move, nor was she reacting. She was just staring at him, sometimes moving her long, thick tail. She seemed to be checking on Bartlett, to see what move he would do.

    After a long, uncomfortable silence, Bartlett said, "So. We finally meet, dragon."

    The dragon growled, nodding as if understanding what Bartlett was saying.

    "Heh. As I expected," said Bartlett with a hollow chuckle. "You understand human speech. I didn''t expect you to be proper, though. You''ve been someone''s mount, then?"

    The dragon let out a growl Bartlett could tell that it was an annoyed, slightly insulted one. She even bared her fangs.

    "Wait. Calm down. I didn''t mean to insult you," said Bartlett, holding out his hands. The dragon seemed to calm herself down.

    "Now. You know why I''m here, don''t you? Despite what they want, I won''t kill you. I have enough of that already. I''ll just get what I need, and leave, okay? I won''t touch any of your gold. I just need the princess."

    The dragon kept silent.

    "There are men out there who wants to kill you," said Bartlett. "I don''t want to be seen as a Wyrithian sympathizer, but I need the gold. I don''t need your head for it."

    The dragon kept silent. Bartlett thought this indicated that she was unconvinced. With a disappointed sigh, Bartlett unsheathed his sword. It was shimmering with magical energy, causing it to shine brightly.

    "I...I have a sword that can slay magical creatures," said Bartlett, unsure whether this act could convince the dragon at all. "I won''t hesitate to plunge this into your heart. Tell me where the princess is and I won''t be forced to slay you, dragon."

    The dragon kept silent. Bartlett was out of options. He anticipated the dragon to be stubborn, but he wished she wouldn''t. He could tell that she could easily kill him and the Wyrithians in one fell swoop. Bartlett could fight her, but what''s the point?

    Instead, what he got was equally or even more surprising.

    "That''s nothing more than light show. I am not a fool."

    The voice came as a shock to Bartlett, as he did not expect the voice to come from the one being in that room that shouldn''t even have that voice: the dragon herself. The voice was raspy, but feminine.

    "Y-you?" asked Bartlett, stammering as he was trying to comprehend what happened. "You can talk?"

    "Evidently," said the female dragon. "Dragons talk, don''t they?"

    "No, they don''t," said Bartlett.

    "Well, I do. Deal with it. You should put that sword away before you make a fool of yourself."

    "O-okay. I get your point." Bartlett sheathed the sword awkwardly, still unable to believe that the dragon just talked. "B-but then tell me. Where is the princess?"

    "Oh, I don''t know. Got lost in the caves, screaming at the top of her lungs waiting for her knight in shining armor to come galloping to her rescue. I''ve read variations of that tale." She growled. "Not my taste."

    "Your taste?! This isn''t about your taste, dragon! What did you do to the princess?!"

    "Ate her," said the dragon nonchalantly.

    "Ate...?! O-oh no.... Am I too...?"

    The dragon chuckled, before letting out a raspy laugh that made Bartlett confused. This was the first time he had ever heard a dragon laugh

    "You should see your face, man! I never thought you''d fall for that!"

    "Y-you...you didn''t...eat her, then?"

    "Of course not!" snapped the dragon with a growl. "What am I, a cannibal? You don''t eat beast people, so why should I suddenly gain a taste for human flesh? I haven''t lost my dignity yet!"

    "Dignity? What are you talking about? And cannibal? You''re a dragon! Eating a human doesn''t sound like cannibalism from where I''m standing!"

    The dragon let out an exasperated groan and said, "Oh, screw this! This has gone far enough! Should''ve just listened to myself when I said not everyone can get a hint! There is no princess in this cave, knight. It''s just me. And no, I did not eat her, I did not leave her somewhere for you to find, and I certainly did not run with the princess as the hostage. I am the princess. I''m the one you''re supposed to save and slay for your knightly contest or whatever bloody thing you''re in!"

    This did not shock Bartlett as much as finding out that the dragon could talk and have quite a sass on her. In fact, he did not believe the dragon, even one bit. His expression was enough for the dragon to know what he was thinking.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "You don''t believe me," said the dragon.

    "How can I?! I should''ve laughed at the situation, but I don''t want to be killed after hearing the sickest joke I have ever heard!" said Bartlett.

    "At least I''m being honest about it, whether you believe me or not. You wouldn''t know what to believe if you don''t know what truly transpired. They got you because you''re a foreigner, aren''t you? Let me tell you this, if you know dragons that much. Since when did dragons set up traps?"

    "Uh...since never?"

    "Exactly! It took me two bloody years to learn how to use these talons," said the dragon, flexing her talons. "Even I was surprised when I realized how good they are at grasping things. Turns out having opposable thumbs is a boon."

    Bartlett did not answer. Instead, he pondered about the questions the dragon put forward. The dragon waited until Bartlett reached a conclusion. She, however, was impatient.

    "You know what? Fine. You don''t believe me. So let me tell you something important. Those Wyrithians who employed you wanted to kill me before we can even have any conversation. They might even kill you when you realized that no princess needs saving. From the looks of it, they need a dragon slayer, and they got one who''s none the wiser."

    Without warning, the dragon immediately snapped her head towards the opening of the cave and said, "And it looks like they found a way in."

    "I can try and ask them about¡ª"

    "No, don''t try and negotiate with them. You are a victim of deception, and I intend to straighten the facts." The dragon then said, "Get behind me and stay out of sight. Listen to what they say, and make your choice."

    "Oh, Why can''t anything be as straightforward as it is?"

    "That won''t make the story interesting. Stop complaining and get behind me. Now, man."

    Bartlett was still unsure if the dragon was only toying with him or not. At this point, the humans were more believable than the dragon, even if the dragon claimed to be the abducted princess and could speak, which it shouldn''t be able to. But either already having doubts of his human companions or he was motivated to know the truth, Bartlett simply agreed to what the dragon was asking him to do and hid behind her when he heard the soldiers'' voice.

    The soldiers seemed disheveled and disoriented, but when they found the dragon, they soon regained their composures. Bartlett was tempted to call them, but he started having second thoughts when one of the soldiers looked at the dragon and said, "Well, well. I never thought you''d be waiting for us instead of running again, princess. Tired of running?"

    "To think you''d find a way to escape our grasp," said Nolan. "How did you do it, exactly? Cursing yourself into a dragon? Your high mage changing you out of desperation? Well, I doubt you can even say anything despite of understanding what we''re saying. Too bad that man''s not here. A shame, though. He was a good company if he wasn''t so oblivious about it. Guess being promised a hefty reward for your head makes it easy for him to be convinced. Well, that Manarithian''s dead now."

    The dragon made a threatening move while growling. One of the soldiers mockingly move away, pretending to be scared.

    "Whoa, there. A little eager to taste human flesh, eh, princess? I doubt you even want to stoop that low, or even capable of killing anything. You''re just a spoiled princess who can''t do anything right in your life. I doubt you have ever carry a sword before this. Come on, then. Try and burn us with your almighty flame. Oh, right. You can''t. Not with that collar around your neck, eh, princess?"

    "Wait, Hirsch. Be careful," warned Nolan. "Even if she can''t breathe fire, she''s still a dragon."

    "Who cares?" said Hirsch with a shrug. "I bet she doesn''t even know what to do with those claws of hers. Being a princess is one thing, but to stoop so low to become an animal? She doesn''t have the guts to."

    "Hirsch, stand down," said Nolan. "A dragon is still dangerous, even if she''s a bloody princess!"

    "That''s the thing, see? She''s just a princess with the body of a dragon! And if that bloody Manarithian''s right, then she understands everything we said and is mocking us silently! Even after we took everything from her, she dared to turn herself into a dragon! Just how insulting is--"

    Hirsch''s grievances were cut short when the dragon snatched him with her talon. Hirsch''s arrogant attitude turned to fear when he realized that he was within the dragon''s grasp.

    "He''s right, you know," said the dragon with a growl. "I''m still a dragon, spoiled princess or not. Besides, do you want to know what a spoiled princess do to their precious dolls?"

    The dragon grabbed the smaller human''s head with her other talon and pulled, glaring at him as she did so. Hirsch screamed in agony as his head was slowly being ripped out of his neck. Then, with a roar, the dragon ripped out his head and his spine like a person would a doll, spraying blood all over her draconic face. True to what she claimed the human to be, she threw the headless body away, not breaking sight with the intruders. She bared her teeth and let out a deep, guttural growl. Her monstrous appearance and act terrified the soldiers.

    "By Vyrnius, she talks?!" exclaimed one of the soldiers.

    An unfazed Nolan prepared his spell. The dark, swirling energy alerted Bartlett. He was attempting to cast a dark magick spell. This convinced Bartlett that something sinister was going on. He sprang out of his cover and immediately cast a counter spell, which interrupted Nolan''s spellcasting. Nolan was surprised by the man''s appearance.

    "Evans?!" he exclaimed. "I thought you--"

    He did not get to finish his words. Henrietta''s bared claws, each as sharp as a razor, tore Nolan''s throat. A chunk of flesh was ripped off, and along with it, a spray of blood that further caked the dragon''s scales. He let out a gurgling sound, but Nolan was already dead where he was standing. All that''s left for his lifeless body was to fall to the stony floors of the cave when his muscles failed and gravity took over.

    The other members of the party lost their will to fight and began turning around to run from the murderous dragon. She was not going to let them get away.

    "Kill them before they report to their master!" exclaimed the dragon.

    Bartlett was still confused by the situation, and was also bewildered by the dragon''s brutality. The dragon did not care. She jumped and pounced one of the soldiers. Despite him pleading for his life, the dragon bit his neck and bit down hard, blood gushing out of his artery. She twisted her neck, breaking his neck, as a predator would do to its prey. There was a loud crack, followed by abrupt silence and the soldier''s body limping. It stayed in her maws before it fell out by itself. The other soldier, overcame by fear, fell as his knees buckled. He couldn''t muster enough strength to stand and run. A perfect prey for a blood-caked dragon.

    "No!" he pleaded. "No, no! Get away! Vyrnius save me!"

    "There is no god in this cave," said the dragon, her voice coarse. "Only me."

    The dragon promptly bit his leg, causing him to scream in both pain and terror. Then, utilizing body strength, she whipped her head and smashed the soldier to the wall. His armor crumpled, unable to withstand such force. Yet, he was still alive, undoubtedly thanks to the armor. However, it was over for him. His spine was broken, crippling him. The pain was unbearable.

    And in his field of view, there was the dragon, caked with blood of her victims, approaching him. Undoubtedly aware that he was still alive. At this point, he wished for her to just kill him, but in his mind, he feared that she was going to toy with him.

    His last thought was a vain attempt to ask for his dark god to curse the princess who shouldn''t be alive in the first place. Why did she turn into a dragon and make things worse for them?

    He wouldn''t get the answer to his question as she raised her fore leg and slammed it down to the ground with all her might.

    Bartlett could only watch, keeping his brandished sword out as the dragon, satisfied with crushing the man''s skull, turned to him. Her visage was monstrous, and her act alone made Bartlett realize that this was no mere dragon.

    This was a monster born out of a vengeance-drive desire. A very human thing to do. Dragons would not rip someone''s head off like a doll. This was the act of a sapient creature.

    In a twisted way, this convinced Bartlett that she was truly a human cursed into a dragon. And she was coming for him not out of instinct, but to tie up loose ends.

    Yet, she did not attack. Instead, she spitted out the blood in her maws.

    "I have no qualms against you," said the dragon. "Put your sword and shield away. Unless you want to join them."

    Unlike these Wyrithian soldiers, he might stand a chance against this dragon, who used the shock of learning that she could talk to dominate the fight. He was an experienced warrior, one that had seen atrocities beyond what this dragon just did.

    But ''might stand a chance'' was not good enough. If he dies, all of it was for nothing.

    With this in mind, he sheathed his sword, and put his shield on his back. The dragon let out a growl of approval.

    "Smart man," she said.

 Chapter 4

    "So," she said. "What do you think?"

    Bartlett, appalled, said, "It''s excessive."

    "For you, perhaps," she said coyly. "Me? I have been waiting for them to come for a long time."

    "I still...can''t believe it," said Bartlett. "I always know there is a different side to any story, but I never thought of...this."

    "Believe what you want to believe," said the dragon. "But one thing is clear. You are now their enemy, so you better stay out of Wyrith."

    "That wouldn''t be too hard," said Bartlett. "Wyrith and Manarithia are at war."

    The dragon looked at him with an expression of disbelief. "I see," she said. "The deception ran deep. We have always been allies with Manarithia on account of my parents'' union, but to think he turned it into a conflict...."

    "He? Your father?" asked Bartlett.

    "No," replied the dragon with a sigh. She then changed the topic. "What are you going to do now? You got yourself involved with a dragon who happened to be a victim of a curse. The least I can do is to compensate you for a job well done. How much did they promise you?"

    "Fifty thousand gold pieces and a title from Wyrith," said Bartlett with a sigh. "Tough luck. I should''ve known that this is too good to be true. I shouldn''t have trusted any Wyrithians claiming to be the king''s guard, not when we''re at war."

    "That''s quite a lot of gold pieces. I can''t pay you that much, but I still have to compensate you."

    The dragon then pointed at the pile of gold on the other side of the cave.

    "Take those as compensation. It might not worth fifty thousand, but it''s better than being empty-handed. And while I am in no condition to give you a Wyrithian title, I can give you something better. You found an ally in me, and I''ll happily come with you if it means getting away from those hunting me."

    "You...have planned all these through, haven''t you?" surmised Bartlett.

    "Not really," said the dragon with a smirk.

    Bartlett shook his head and proceeded to gather the gold coins she pointed out. He should''ve bought a spatial magick spell scroll, knowing how much the gold would weigh. There was a wooden chest where he gathered the gold.

    "I''m surprised you even have a wooden chest," remarked Bartlett as he slowly put the scattered coins in it.

    "Got it from raiding a convoy," she said. "Part of my attempt to undermine them."

    "I see."

    Bartlett then introduced himself.

    "I''m Bartlett Evans. Bart for short," he said. "How about you?"

    "I''m Henrietta," said the dragon. "I could say ''of House Vesparte'', but...that''s no longer the case. But I still claim to be the princess of my kingdom, though. So, you still get the princess in the end, huh? Like a knight in shining armor?"

    "I''m not a knight, just a humble adventurer," said Bart. "Say, princess...."

    "Henrietta''s fine."

    "Henrietta. How about the molten gold underneath you?"

    "Hmm." She looked down at the hoard she sat on. "Oh, this? It''s fake."

    "Fake?!"

    "It''s painted rock."

    "How the hell do you find the gold paint for it?!"

    "The convoy somehow had gold paint among the treasures. I don''t know what their deal was, but it''s certainly interesting enough for me to paint part of this lair with fake gold. Looks like a proper dragon''s lair, don''t you think? And painting was easy enough. The curse let me kept my dexterity."

    The dragon then showed her claws, which looked like a human hand, complete with opposable thumbs.

    Bartlett was shocked, but that soon changed to amusement as he formed a mental image of the dragon painting the rocks holding a tiny brush with her talon-like claws, leading him to chuckle. This was the first time he had ever met a dragon with quite a wit. Granted, she claimed to be a princess. Although Bartlett readily believed her situation, it would take a while for him to accept that the dragon was not really a dragon.

    Using a rope he had in his bag outside, he tied the chest onto Henrietta''s back, who did not mind. He then climbed on top.

    "Ready to go?" she asked.

    "Yes."

    She slowly walked out of the cave through the dark tunnel, the one she did not collapse.

    Whatever happened that day changed a lot of Bartlett''s perspective. He was convinced that Henrietta the dragon was once human, but only because she had a human name. He still had a hard time believing that she was a princess. What she did was clearly not something Bartlett would expect a princess to do.

    Yet, there was still a lingering question about her curse, and how she ended up that way. The world of magick was a mystery to him. He steered away from anything dark magick-related, so curses was beyond his expertise.

    "I don''t know much about the nature of curses," said Bartlett. "But curses are dark magick, right? From what I gather, they tend to be unpredictable and were usually born out of malice. It''s considered a dark magick for that reason."

    "You''re correct on that regard," said Henrietta. "Someone I used to trust...well, at this point, I am still having a hard time understanding her words. What she did to me turned me to this. Ostensibly, it was to save me. I''m grateful, but this gave me quite a headache when I realized what happened."

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    "Are you planning to reverse the curse, then?"

    "I don''t know if anyone is capable of it. Besides, I kind of like being a dragon. Then again, a dragon who can''t breathe fire is no dragon. Have you noticed the collar around my neck?"

    Bartlett glanced at the base of her neck. There was a black, metallic band covered in runes. He did not understand them, so he settled on the collar being a product of dark magick. However, he could surmise what it was for.

    "Is this the reason why you did not burn us all to crisps earlier?" asked Bartlett. Henrietta nodded.

    "I may not be able to become a human," said Henrietta. "But if I have to be a dragon, I need to unseal my fire first. Then, I might consider finding a way to be human again."

    "Isn''t that supposed to be your primary goal? I mean, you claimed to have been usurped from your throne."

    Henrietta shook her head. "Even if I wanted to, I have no kingdom to rule. No one even know who I am beyond Wyrith. You clearly did not even react to my name."

    The two reached the exit to the cave where Bartlett noticed the crushed beacon. He also noticed Henrietta snuffing the flames out of the torch with her talons.

    "How did you manage that?" asked Bartlett. "The torch, I mean."

    "I took me a couple of tries and some trials and errors, but I managed to create a fire with some dried branches, leaves, and a pair of dry stones. I''m glad I still have hands. Sort of. Thankfully, I do not need to eat raw meat. They''re disgusting. It took me a month before I mustered enough courage to hunt. The sight of a mangled buck was horrifying."

    "I suppose some of those human traits still remains," said Bartlett. "So, where do you want to go?"

    "It''s your call," said Henrietta. "Do you know any place where we won''t stand out?"

    Bartlett pondered about it for a moment. Manarithia was a relatively big kingdom that was open to the rest of the world, and dragons were common. There were privateers and dragon and wyvern riders belonging to the Dragon Riders of Manarithia, though privateers were not as common. An adventurer who happened to be riding a dragon with unusual scale color would surely turned heads, and with it, danger from beyond the border.

    He soon concluded that the best place they could go was a town with a military presence, one where dragon riders were common.

    "Aldimar''s a good place to go," he said.

    "Aldimar?"

    "It''s a port town, a week of travel from here," said Bartlett. "There is a lot of draconic presence there, so you won''t stand out."

    "Are you sure?"

    Henrietta simply showed him her pink-colored body. It did not take long for Bartlett to understand what she meant.

    "Well, we can''t help it," said Bartlett with a shrug. "But don''t worry. Aldimar is far enough from Wyrith."

    Then Aldimar it is," said Henrietta. "Lead the way, Bartlett."

    He pointed at a direction prompting Henrietta to follow his direction. They exited the forested area and back to the main path, where Bartlett could see a signpost that would guide them to where they needed to go. Bartlett was familiar with some of the towns on the way to Aldimar, such as Fareworth and Afferin. He should reach the city as he expected it to.

    As they walked, however, Bartlett started to realize something missing, given the facts. Henrietta did not seem to notice it, but as they continued their walk, Bartlett realized what they were missing.

    "Uhmm, Henrietta...," he asked. "Can''t we just...fly there?"

    Henrietta did not immediately answer. In fact, there was an awkward silence between them before Bartlett realized why.

    "Henrietta, is it because...you can''t fly?"

    "N-Nonsense!" stammered Henrietta. "I...I''m just exhausted!"

    "Hey, come on, now. I won''t judge. Humans don''t have wings, so it makes sense that you can''t fly."

    "That''s the whole reason why!" She flexed her wings a couple of times. "I had a pair of limbs I can''t even use properly! Being a dragon with wings that can''t fly is embarrassing!"

    "You''re the only one who think that." Bartlett sighed. "You know what? Let''s just walk there instead. I''m not in a hurry, anyway."

    "Yes, because you''re not being hunted by a kingdom that''s no longer your ally! My pink scales stood out too much and we''re walking on a public road!"

    "Hmm...you may have a point."

    Bartlett resorted to using a map of the region that he kept neatly folded in his bag. He was fortunate to have learned a bit about pathfinding. He immediately saw a less traveled road, away from the main route with less scrutinizing eyes. It cut through the forest, then through a farm, ending in Fareworth. He directed Henrietta to go through this road, which the dragon agreed. Even so, the awkwardness of the situation was still present.

    Henrietta, for one, never thought about the awkwardness of the situation until she realized that this was the first time she had ever spoken with someone for almost two years. She did not need to talk to a rock to amuse herself before realizing that she was going mad. This was a good opportunity to return to civilization. She should take it.

    "So, Bartlett," said Henrietta. "What brings you here? I doubt this is a place you would frequently go."

    "It''s not. I usually hang around Aldimar," said Bartlett. "I got a house and friends there."

    "So, why here?"

    "I don''t know. Looking for adventure, I suppose."

    "Adventure, huh? I once fancied that life," reminisced Henrietta. "I wanted to be a dashing adventurer ready to tackle danger and meet people from all sorts of life. But that''s not what princesses are supposed to do, now, is it? We are expected to be courteous and fragile."

    "I disagree," said Bartlett. "The fact that you managed to survive out here as a dragon is proof that you''re not fragile."

    "Only because I preferred swordsmanship than sitting pretty," said Henrietta. "But what good does that do?"

    Bartlett, sensing sadness in her voice, easily understood what she implied. There was no reason to believe that her family survived what happened to them when they lost the throne to the usurpers. Princess or not, losing loved ones were always hard.

    "I''m sorry," sympathized Bartlett.

    "It''s fine," said Henrietta. "I do not wish to wallow in sadness. It''s just...it''s been two years since I have a proper conversation with someone other than myself. I''m just glad it happens to be someone like you."

    "If it''s okay for me to ask...what happened?"

    "My family, the real royal family...was killed and replaced. This war you have with Wyrith...it''s not supposed to happen."

    "Replaced? Now that I think about it, there was no big news at all from Wyrith leading to the war. You just declare a war with Manarithia without any good reason."

    "Because whoever is in the castle right now is not us. We were attacked by monsters that disguised themselves as humans. It was such a perfect disguise that when they revealed themselves, it was already too late."

    Bartlett listened in silence. Henrietta took this as a sign that he did not believe her.

    "I understand that you don''t have any reason to believe me. I may just claim to be princess Henrietta of Wyrith and could be a commoner who pretended to be the princess. I stand by my words, so don''t expect me to think otherwise."

    "I understand," said Bartlett. "But still...to think you survived all this time as a dragon in the wilds. That is a feat in itself."

    "It''s not as impressive as you make it sounds, but I''ll take it."

    "Any other plans?"

    "Nothing else but breaking this curse that sealed my fire. Though, I can''t help but feel excited. I''ve never traveled to Manarithia before. I hardly left the castle, and all I ever knew of the neighboring nations are from the gifts the ambassadors gave us."

    "Then you will enjoy this second chance," said Bartlett with a smile. "But there is one simple thing I need to ask you. This is for your own safety, too."

    "What?"

    "Dragons are not supposed to be able to talk," said Bartlett. "Communicate, yes, but talk like people, no."

    "Not even with magick?"

    "They don''t talk with their own tongues, or at least that''s what the riders said, anyway. It''s a complicated process of trust and understanding shared exclusively between them. Can''t pretend I know much about that stuff. I didn''t train to be a dragon rider."

    Henrietta silently acknowledged what Bartlett said. She was not a true dragon and her knowledge on dragons were limited to what people said about them, most of which in the tone of them being magnificent, yet dangerous, creatures. No one ever told her that they could talk, which could complicate matters for Bartlett.

    But it did not really matter much to her. She finally had someone she could talk to. She was glad it was someone reasonable like Bartlett. She would know if that person only wanted to profit out of her. Bartlett, however, proved himself trustworthy when he did not wish to slay her, preferring to talk instead.

    She wasn''t sure if she would survive someone who saw her as a beast to be slain, and not a helpless princess unable to cope with her draconic form. In any case, she made a new friend, and it was enough for her.

 Chapter 5

    The one-week travel through Manarithia proved to be a rather interesting journey for Henrietta. Everything for her was new and exciting, and it showed just from the way things were.

    Unlike Wyrith, which was a kingdom mostly populated by humans, Manarithia had a more varied population. Other than humans and elves, Manarithia was also populated by dwarves, halflings, and all assortments of beast people from all over the world. Too bad she couldn''t talk to them without drawing attention.

    "Manarithia is a major trade route for several nations and kingdoms," explained Bartlett when Henrietta enquired about this fact. "I have never experienced a time when Manarithia was a human-only kingdom. It has always been this way even before I was born."

    It was evident for Bartlett that Henrietta was easy to talk and to travel with. While it felt strange talking to a dragon at first, as they continued their travels, that strangeness was gone, replaced with one more akin to a normal conversation between two people. Her face may have filled most of Bartlett''s vision, given that she was twice the size of an adult horse, but it did not felt strange to him, especially after they had known each other for a while.

    He could tell that she liked the new things she encountered, and he was glad to have had someone with such passion, even if she could only talk to him in whispers or beyond earshot. It must be hard reigning in that excitement.

    And then, after a weeklong of travel, they finally reached their destination: Aldimar. It was also a such a perfect timing, too, as they arrived just as the sun was setting over the horizon.

    "Wow," said Henrietta, complimenting the sunset. "It''s beautiful. I''ve...never seen anything like it."

    "Must have been quite a sight, huh?" said Bartlett.

    "The castle I lived in had high walls that blocked most of the views," said Henrietta. "Even when I got to one of the towers, there are hills where the sun usually sets. This is the first time I''ve seen it in full glory. In fact, this is the first time I''ve ever seen a sea before."

    Bartlett couldn''t help but smile. Henrietta acted like an excited child seeing the sea for the first time. It was hard to tell from her expression, but her voice told the whole story. Still, it was quite peculiar hearing it from a dragon of all things.

    But he could understand Henrietta''s fascination, as he certainly did feel the same way. After months journeying inland and trying to find work as he went, the sight of the sea and the unblocked sunset would certainly leave him in awe of nature''s beauty. Even more so when he was familiar with the town and what to do once he returned home proper. He should try and do that as soon as possible, when he still had light.

    Yet, he had a slight problem. He did not expect to have come home with Henrietta as his ride. While he did not need to worry for the gold he got thanks to Manarithia''s banking system (he deposited the chest full of gold coins in the first town with a bank, updating his passbook as well), he still had the pink-scaled, princess-turned-dragon to content with. He was worried that Henrietta would be too awkward to even act like a dragon, but it was clear that two years surviving on her own gave her a chance to learn what it meant to be one. He wondered if it was a human''s strong will that made her able to adapt in just two years as she claimed.

    That, however, was not the real problem. As he continued his travel through the road, Henrietta looked at the sky.

    "Hey, Bartlett?" asked the dragon. "Is that a dragon approaching us?"

    "Hmm?" The human looked up, following her direction. Sure enough, a dragon slowly descending from the sky. He noticed it fitted with riding gears, which could only meant one thing.

    "A dragon guard," he surmised. "Not surprising, considering how close we are to the town."

    "So, they are like constables?" asked Henrietta.

    "But airborne," added Bartlett.

    "So, then...are we in trouble?"

    "Uh...."

    She made a good point. The only reason dragon guards would approach them was because they were interested in something. They had no reason to if they were not involved in anything at all.

    As the dragon, or more specifically, a wyvern, landed and slowly walked towards them, the rider on its back motioned Bartlett to climb down Henrietta''s back. He did so, leaving his sword and shield behind as he could tell that it would only mean more trouble if it looked like he was resisting. Aldimar was not a shady town and he could trust a dragon guard.

    The dragon guard tipped her hat and said, "Good evening."

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    "Evening," said Bartlett casually. "Is there something you need?"

    "One thing, really. Did you tame that dragon?"

    Bartlett turned to Henrietta, who stayed silent but keeping an eye on the proceedings, including the wyvern behind the woman. Bartlett soon return and came up with an answer.

    "Yes. Somewhere near the Wyrith-Manarithia border," said Bartlett. "I saved her from poachers."

    "Threading the needle there, aren''t you? Decided that there''s good money in the war?"

    "I, uh...need the money. But I can assure you, I''m no snitch."

    "You better not be. But you have honor. I can tell from that dragon''s attitude towards you. If you''re other than honorable, that pink beauty behind you will make short work of you. But honor or not, you clearly don''t know the first thing dragon riders need to do."

    "May I ask what?" asked Bartlett.

    "I know some folks don''t mind bareback riding, but here, you need to put a saddle on her. What if you need to fly, or control your dragon?"

    "Oh, uh...I don''t know that," said Bartlett, stammering to find a good reason. "The dragon...well, I thought we understood each other after I showed that I meant her no harm."

    "You''re lucky that''s the case." The guard sighed. "I''ll let you go with a warning, but consider this a final one. You two will be alright if you just walk, but if she''s caught flying, or worse, with you on it, I won''t let you go with a warning. Is that clear?"

    "Yes. I understand."

    "Good. Now, with that out of the way, let me ask you a couple of questions. Name?"

    "Bartlett Evans."

    "Reason for visiting Aldimar?"

    "I lived here. Have a home in the Trader''s Quarter."

    "Home, huh? Anything else I need to know about beside that sword and shield?"

    "Nothing in particular. No dark magick spells."

    The dragon guard jotted down some notes, glancing at Bartlett every now and then. It did not take long before she put away her notes and said, "Thanks for your cooperation, and welcome to Aldimar."

    Bartlett grunted in response. The dragon guard then climbed onto her wyvern and let out some clicking noises. The wyvern had been staring at Henrietta for a while before it heeded its rider''s calls and opened its wings before flying away, leaving behind a strong wind in its wake.

    Bartlett let out a sigh of relief. He was glad that there was nothing serious other than not saddling a dragon. That sounded out of the left field, but then, he could always say that he had just starting out as a dragon rider.

    This news, however, was not taken as well by Henrietta, who listened to the conversation. She tried to stay silent, without reacting to it. Yet, when the dragon guard left the two, the first thing she did was complain.

    "No," said Henrietta with a growl. "I am not turning myself into a glorified horse!"

    "Princess, I know that''s not a fair rule, but...dragons don''t tend to walk around without a saddle."

    "I am fine with saddles, but that...thing in that dragon''s mouth. Are you telling me I am supposed to be wearing that? No one''s going to see that as unusual, but I will be mortified. Worse, if I ended up liking it...."

    Henrietta shuddered. Somehow, Bartlett could understand.

    "We''ll...think of something, okay? For now, let''s just stay out of trouble."

    Henrietta let out an exasperated huff before she silently walked, though she deliberately increased her pace so as to leave Bartlett behind, annoyed by the situation she found herself in. Bartlett was forced to run to follow her until she finally slowed her pace once they got close to the town, realizing that the dragon guard''s warning held merit once she started drawing unwanted attention, in part due to her pink-colored scales and her not wearing any riding gear.

    Thankfully, the townspeople did not mind her antics. She also forgot her worries when she saw the town proper.

    Once the sky was dark enough to require illumination, the lamps in the town slowly lit up, bathing the town in light. The town had a unique flair to it, in which the walls were white and the roof were covered in brick tiles. The paths were also paved with bricks, something that reminded Henrietta of home. The palm trees and a generally warmer weather added to the unique flair the town gave when compared to Wyrith and the forest she lived for two years.

    "It''s so beautiful," said Henrietta, "You clearly picked a good place to call home."

    Bartlett smiled. "I''m glad you like it, princess. Now that I see it, I realized I missed Aldimar after being away for months."

    "I bet that''s where the fun at," said Henrietta, pointing at the beach.

    "The beach? Well, to be fair, it''s only when there''s a party. Most times, it''s just a place to relax and cool off during hot summer days. In any case, we can''t really do anything much, not with you--"

    Bartlett stopped before he said anything that soured Henrietta''s mood. He was going to say that, with her not saddled properly, they couldn''t do much except resting for the night. Thankfully, Henrietta let out a big yawn, one that exposed her sharp teeth.

    "You''re right. I am tired after a long travel," said Henrietta. "Do you happen to know where I can sleep in a town?"

    "I can get you a private place. If it wasn''t for all that gold, it might strain my own finances."

    Henrietta wished to enjoy the night some more, but she soon found that Bartlett was right. She was too exhausted to do anything, especially after she and Bartlett decided that they should not linger in a town too long. If they were following the main road, the shorter rest period would also shorten their journey, but they used the roads less traveled, and they ended up in Aldimar a week later. Both were exhausted by the time they reached Aldimar, with Bartlett barely able to stand.

    Knowing that Henrietta had opinions regarding her choice of accommodation, Bartlett let her stay in a more private dwelling near the sea where she could admire the sight, which happened to be a barn with some windows. Once Bartlett finalized the transaction, he bid Henrietta farewell for the day and returned to his home. It was modest, but it was home, nonetheless. It was the fruit of his labor; he bought the once vacant house near the docks using his earnings, though he wished he could just forget the fact that he slayed dragons to earn such a good home. Thankfully, nobody in Aldimar knew what he was doing. Otherwise, living in the town would be uncomfortable.

    Once inside, he took a well-earned bath, dressed in a more comfortable attire, and immediately went to bed. He was still wondering about the events that happened to him in the past week, and how uneventful the travel was back home in comparison. Perhaps Henrietta''s presence discouraged bandits and muggers to try their luck. He shuddered when imagining what she could do to them.

    "Whatever she does, though...pales in comparison to my sin," he thought as he drifted to sleep.

 Chapter 6

    A new day dawned.

    Both Bartlett and Henrietta woke up early that morning, feeling refreshed and ready for the day.

    Henrietta appreciated the sound of waves that lulled her to sleep. While she had no problem living inside a cold, damp cave, this change of scenery and quality of living was very much appreciated. It felt like the true end of her journey, and a start of another one.

    Unfortunately for the princess-turned-dragon, Bartlett came to the rented barn. Her mood immediately soured upon being reminded of what they must do.

    "I am sorry, Henrietta," said Bartlett, sympathizing with her.

    "It''s fine. Rules are rules, after all," she said, before standing on her legs and started walking out of the barn.

    "Would you like some breakfast first?" asked Bartlett.

    "I would like to, but I''m not hungry yet," said Henrietta. "Once I do, I''d like to eat something filling, like a roasted whole sheep. You do have that, don''t you?"

    "Of course, we do."

    Henrietta noticed Bartlett''s insincere tone.

    "You don''t sound too sure."

    "I...." Bartlett drooped his head. "I don''t know if they have that, to be honest. I can ask the dragon riders, though. They must''ve fed their dragons with something good. Right?"

    Henrietta stared at Bartlett, letting out a deep growl that intimidated Bartlett. She then huffed and walked past the human without saying another word. Bartlett, not wanting to get into trouble, walked beside her awkwardly.

    As the two walked into the streets of Aldimar, Henrietta started to draw attention due to her unusual scale color. The increased attention on her made her rather worried that one of them happened to be a Wyrithian spy. She wanted to ask Bartlett about this, but decided not to. The last thing she needed was getting into trouble and having to explain why.

    Bartlett was then surprised by the presence of one particular beast race: the gnolls. He was soon greeted by one. The hyena person was tall and looked rather imposing with his wide jaws and black, featureless eyes. When he smiled, he showed a row of sharp teeth that further intimidated Bartlett. He knew how strong their jaws were, and how sharp their teeth were when compared to the feline people of the desert.

    "Hi! Welcome to Aldimar," said the cheery gnoll. His accent was very thick. "I haven''t met a dragon rider like you before. Come for a visit?"

    "No, uh...I lived here," said Bartlett. "I''m, uh...I''m looking for Rodvar."

    "Rodvar? Well, you''re in luck! I work for him, so I''ll take you there! You''re in need of a new gear, aren''t you?"

    "I am." Bartlett soon noticed more gnolls by the docks, doing some labor work. "I have not seen this many gnolls this far from Rogaria. When did this happen?"

    The gnoll looked at him quizzically. "I thought you lived here."

    "Not for months."

    "Ah, that explains that," said the gnoll, rubbing the back of his hyenoid head. "We''re not Rogarians, though. We''re Tarasians. But what happened to Rogaria happened to us, too. Civil war plagued our nation, and we had no choice but to leave the nation behind. If it wasn''t for kind folks like Rodvar, it''d be a hard life for us. Say, human. Do you think I look weird?"

    "Not for me. I''ve met gnolls before." Bartlett looked away, not wanting to tell them that he met them as enemies. The only reason he did not immediately draw his sword was because the gnoll was speaking Manarithian.

    Knowing that the conversation could turn awkward soon enough, Bartlett asked, "You said you worked for Rodvar, right?"

    "Mm-hmm," replied the gnoll with a nod.

    "On what capacity?"

    "As his assistant," he said, matter-of-factly.

    This fact amused Bartlett more than the fact that there were gnolls in Aldimar.

    "I thought he doesn''t like assistants, saying that only dwarves can appreciate his handiwork."

    "He didn''t mention that." The gnoll shrugged.

    "Don''t say I do, though." Bartlett smiled. "It''s good to know he''s open for help."

    "Rodvar''s been pretty kind to me when the ship I was on docked here. Everyone did, even though I''m clearly not human-like," said the gnoll. "For that, I feel luckier than my brothers."

    As the two were talking, Henrietta could only silently listen behind them. She was itching for a conversation, but she couldn''t. She wanted to talk so badly, to let them know what she had in mind. Politics was not something that interest her, but she had some knowledge for it, so she could understand the plight of the hyena people.

    Her patience was further tested when they reached Rodvar''s workshop. The workshop was situated near the docks, with a big, empty space behind the building. There was a reason for that space, and that was seen when a dragon landed, fitted with riding gear and reins, making the dragon looked like a horse. The rider climbed down and was seen patting her dragon. It let out satisfied chirps and growls. While it was endearing and cute, if Henrietta was going to look like that, especially if she was forced to have a bit slip between her teeth to be pulled around, she would rather kill herself!

    As she became concerned by this, yet unable to voice her misgivings, Bartlett and the gnoll entered the workshop and found someone was already there, taking care of the shop.

    "Hey, Rodvar," said the gnoll. "Someone''s here asking for you."

    Rodvar looked up the newspaper he was reading and, upon seeing Bartlett, let out a smile, obscured under his thick beard. He climbed down the stool he was seating and walked out of the counter before approaching Bartlett. Bartlett looked down, meeting eyes with the dwarf. He smiled towards the dwarf, who let out a hearty laugh and hugged Bartlett. Even if he was half the height of the human, Rodvar compensated it with a stocky build and a big hug, helped by his big, calloused hands.

    "Laddie!" he said excitedly. "I didn''t know you''re back already!"

    "Took a long rest after a long trip," said Bartlett. "This kind gnoll accompanied me to your workshop."

    "And now, I''m going to take my leave," said the gnoll. "I''ll be back with the shipment, Rodvar."

    "Hold on, Bol. Abila''s been asking for you in the forge. I think you should meet her first."

    "Sure will, Rodvar." The gnoll turned his head to Bartlett and said, "See you around, human."

    Bartlett smiled and nodded, as the gnoll walked behind the counter and disappeared behind the veil leading to Rodvar''s workshop.

    Stolen story; please report.

    "I don''t know you take assistants," remarked Bartlett. "I''m more surprised you took gnoll assistants."

    "Abila and Boluti are special cases," said Rodvar. "They were weaponsmiths back in Tarasi."

    "Weaponsmith?" repeated Bartlett.

    "They don''t look like it, but there''s nothing a little demonstration can''t fix. I always admired their works, and they weren''t lying when they claimed their skills. Besides, I doubt anyone is going to help them, and there are more and more Rogarian and Tarasian refugees waiting to find a place to stay beyond the designated dormitory. I am not going to turn a blind eye to them. You know why."

    Bartlett simply nodded, understanding his reasoning. Rodvar, too, was dealing with the same problems Bartlett was. Unlike Bartlett, though, he clearly found something he could be proud of.

    "Well, enough of that doom and gloom. What can I do for you, Bart? Chipped your sword fighting a monster? Need your armor fixed?"

    "I want to properly saddle a dragon," said Bartlett. "She''s waiting outside."

    "A dragon rider, now?" Rodvar let out a hearty laugh. "You''re moving up in the world, lad. For the record, I never divulged your...business. I always said you went monster hunting. To think you''d be friends with one instead of...you know."

    "The dragon''s...a prize from my recent job," said Bartlett, steering the conversation away. "It''s a long story, Rodvar."

    "You can share that later over a pint or two, lad," said Rodvar. "So, where''s the dragon?"

    Bartlett pointed at the pinkish grey dragon. "That''s her."

    The dwarf noted pinkish grey-scaled dragon sitting near the fence leading to the big space behind Rodvar''s workshop. Her appearance was already striking, especially when compared to the other dragons that she actively tried to avoid. In Rodvar''s eyes, she looked like a shy one.

    "Found yourself a beauty, eh, Bart?" said Rodvar, nudging his side. "First Ellie, then the dragon. You do have a knack for finding beauty."

    Bartlett chuckled. "That depends on whether I can keep them close for long. Ellie proved that I can''t."

    "Ah, don''t worry about it." Rodvar then returned his attention to Henrietta. "So. Managed to get by with just a collar around her neck, eh, lad?"

    "Risking it, more like," said Bartlett. "No one''s gonna bat an eye inland, but here? With the dragon guard? I''d rather not risk it. I already got a warning."

    "Eh. don''t think about it too much," said Rodvar with a shrug. "But you might get into trouble if your dragon happens to have taken over a dwarven mine."

    "That dragon is too big for comparison," said Bartlett. "Who''s going to tame that monster?"

    "You don''t. Now, then. Let''s take a look at the lass, shall we? Lead her here, would you? She seems rather shy."

    Bartlett could understand why Henrietta was acting like that, and it showed. When Bartlett beckoned at her, she hesitated at first. It took a glare from Bartlett to cause her to stomp her way to the dwarf and the human.

    "I don''t know you already trained her that well," said Rodvar, surprised.

    "She''s smart," said Bartlett short. "Let''s not think too much about it, eh, Rodvar? It''s not like horses can''t do that."

    A deep growl from Henrietta reminded Bartlett that she was sensitive about being called a horse. He went silent, not wanting to lose a limb, or even his life, unintentionally provoking a dragon that ripped someone''s head off with her claws.

    As Henrietta anxiously waited while Rodvar measured her, Bartlett came up with an idea. When the dwarf was finished, Bartlett approached him and said, "Say, Rodvar?"

    "Yes, lad?"

    "I have an unusual request. Could you design the saddle so she would be able to put it on herself?"

    "That is an unusual request," said Rodvar, stroking his beard. "What do you have in mind?"

    "Something like a backpack, with harnesses and buckles that she can manipulate herself. I, uh...found that she can manipulate objects with her forelegs, as if they are hands. Also, uh...she''s feisty."

    Henrietta growled at him, refusing to be called ''feisty''. Bartlett shushed her.

    "Oh, I see. You tried saddling her before and it didn''t work," said Rodvar. "I can''t say I''m confused with your request, Bart, my boy, but I''m glad you understand her well enough."

    "Indeed," said Bartlett as Henrietta let out a huff. When she glanced at one of the dragons wearing a tack, he immediately understand what she was implying.

    "Oh, and another thing. Are the reins necessary?" asked Bartlett.

    "Of course, it is! Dragons are like horses, lad. They''re proud creatures but are also dangerous. You need to let them know that you won''t harm them and assert your dominance."

    "You sound like you know a thing or two about dragons."

    "I''ve been in this business for half me life, lad. I know how to make it comfortable for them. You don''t want to injure their gums, though they are much tougher than a horse. If you can''t control them, you won''t be a good dragon rider, then."

    "But, uh...she never did anything like that," reasoned Bartlett.

    "Like I said, lad. You never know when you''ll need it."

    Henrietta started to become worried as Rodvar produced the reins, which were leather straps with a prominent steel bit that was intended to be put inside her mouth. The dragon princess started backing away as Rodvar tried to fit the reins on her.

    "Oh, don''t worry," said Rodvar. "It might not be comfortable at first, but I made sure it won''t hurt. Come on. Be a good girl."

    Henrietta shook her head, causing Bartlett to stand in and said, "I think she doesn''t like it, Rodvar."

    "Maybe you should convince her. You already bonded with her, aren''t you?"

    "No...well, yes. But..."

    "It''s fine," reassured Rodvar. "And also, necessary. If someone out there sees you riding a dragon without reins, you''ll be in a lot of trouble. You''re not even a trained dragon rider, so the reins are necessary."

    "B-but..."

    Henrietta had enough. Between Bartlett''s poor attempt in concealing her secret and Rodvar''s relentlessly insisting on reining her, she should have a say in this decision. She was not an animal. She had a voice!

    So, impulsively, and with a deep, growling voice, she said, "You put that thing in my mouth, and I''ll bite your hand off."

    Rodvar was evidently shocked when Henrietta spoke. The princess, knowing that he was shocked, said, "I am serious, dwarf. I have teeth I''m not afraid to use. Now, put that thing down."

    "Y-yes," stammered Rodvar. He did what Henrietta asked him to do.

    Bartlett slapped his head, sighed and said, "I know this would happen. Damn it, princess. I told you to let me do the talking!"

    "From where I''m standing, you clearly didn''t convince him. At all," commented Henrietta.

    "Lad...," said Rodvar. "I think you should enlighten me."

    "You won''t believe me."

    "I''m 145 years old. I''ve experienced worse things. Try me."

    "Alright, alright. She''s not an actual dragon. She''s a human cursed into a dragon. Believe me, it took me a while to be convinced."

    Rodvar''s reaction, however, was not something Bartlett expected. Instead of being surprised, Rodvar stroked his beard, turned to the dragon, and said, "Well, lass. I''m sorry I''m forcing this on you. I can make you a halter if you''re okay with it."

    "I prefer not to have anything on my face," said Henrietta.

    "I''m afraid that''s out of the question, my dear. Good thing you don''t have to wear them all the time. I still have to make one, though. So, how about it?"

    "If that''s the case.... Alright, then."

    Henrietta still did not want to be fitted a halter, but she had no choice but to concede while Rodvar took measurements of her head, thankfully without using the reins he had on hand.

    "You took it quite well," said Bartlett.

    "We dwarves have a story about a king who turned into a dragon who can talk. I don''t know if that story''s true or not, but it serves its purpose."

    "What purpose?"

    "Don''t be consumed by greed, or you''ll be a dragon too big to escape the mines. I doubt this curse has anything to do with greed."

    Henrietta shook her head.

    After finishing up his measurements, Rodvar said, "Now, then. I''ll make the halter for you, but by Shuru''s beard, don''t get into trouble or you''ll end up having to wear this one." Rodvar held up the bridle with a bit. "And if you got caught biting someone''s arm off, I''ll bet my beard you won''t even be able to open your maws. They''ll muzzle ya, or worse, they''ll pull your teeth off."

    Henrietta shuddered. "But that''s barbaric!"

    "No choice, lass. Dragons are dangerous, fire-breathing creatures with a craving for meat. You can''t expect them to behave like horses do. Manarithia in general may welcome dragons and their riders, but once they misbehave...well, you know what I mean."

    Henrietta hastily nodded. She understood when she could no longer ask for too much concessions.

    "Rodvar," said Bartlett. "Do me a favor and don''t tell anyone else. This is between you and me, alright? So...if possible, you might want to reign in your visits to the tavern."

    Rodvar spat. "Are you mad, lad?! I am not getting drunk from a wee mug! We held an ancient promise you humans won''t ever get to hear. This isn''t nothing new, lad!"

    Bartlett sighed in relief, though Rodvar eyed him and Henrietta suspiciously for a moment before shrugging.

    As Rodvar returned to his workshop, Bartlett said, "Whew. I never thought that would go that smoothly."

    "No, it''s not," Henrietta said with a growl. "I don''t even have any rights! Why must they pull my teeth off if I misbehave?! Do you hold a double standard against dragons or something? I thought this is a kingdom of dragon riders!"

    "How should I know? He could''ve been messing with you. It''s not everyday you get to tease a dragon. Or, he''s not teasing you and was being serious about it. He is 145 years old, after all."

    "Whatever the case...being a dragon does not seem to be as inspiring when you''re the dragon."

    Bartlett let out a sympathetic nod. Perhaps being a dragon rider was not as grand as the stories made them to be.

    Or perhaps there wasn''t enough stories told from the dragon''s perspective. Anyone could look grand on a dragon. However, the dragons were nothing more than noble steeds, beasts that were tamed by the knights riding them.

    And that would clearly not going to do the dragon any favor, especially if said dragon was a cursed human.

 Chapter 7

    Giving Henrietta a proper gear did not take long. With the help of Rodvar and Boluti, they gave the princess-turned-dragon something that she could wear by herself and not to be helped, fitting for her personality and her situation. As Bartlett requested, Rodvar designed a saddle that was more akin to a backpack. All Henrietta had to do was slung it over her back and fasten the horizontal straps, like one would fasten a backpack. To everyone''s astonishment, she did not struggle putting on the saddle, even with her sharp talons. It was courtesy to her hand-like claws, something not all dragons possessed.

    Henrietta was still reluctant to wear the headgear made for her, and still was, declaring that she would only wear them when she had to. Wearing a tiara was different from wearing a full headgear that made her look like a horse, something that she had always been worried about ever since Bartlett told her about the rules of being a dragon under a dragon rider.

    It was only after much convincing did she reluctantly agreed to. As promised, Rodvar did not make a full rein, but something more akin to a halter that fit behind her horns and over the base of her maws. While it satisfied Henrietta''s request, the princess-turned-dragon was still uncomfortable with having to wear something that a human should not have worn, only to be reminded by her own reflection that she was not a human, but a dragon.

    "At least you''re willing to listen," commented Henrietta. "I doubt anyone would consider my requests."

    Yet, one problem remained. Now that the minor issue with her gear was solved, she still had the cursed collar around her neck. The collar looked uncomfortable, with its sharp edges digging into her soft scales. While it was not enough to cut through her flesh, the tight collar must have been painful to wear for Henrietta. It being responsible for sealing her fire also contributed to her bad mood.

    Additionally, the collar seemed to emit a very unpleasant aura. Bartlett may not be a mage, but he was sensitive enough to know that something felt off around her. One of the riders waiting for his dragon being fitted was disturbed enough to approach Bartlett.

    "You look like an adventurer who carries around cursed items," he said, bluntly. Considering that he was an elf, it was not surprising.

    "If I am, I''m not aware of it," said Bartlett, attempting to hide the fact that it was Henrietta''s collar.

    Unfortunately for him, the elf not only did not buy his reasonings, his sensitivity to dark magick immediately turned him toward the collar.

    "It''s not a shameful thing having your dragon trapped by a cursed item," he said. "But you should try and fix it before someone with worse temper start making your life miserable."

    "Can you suggest anyone?"

    "Camarth might have an expert on cursed item. But if you have money to burn, you can try Clydeth. While I doubt their official mages would even want to touch cursed item, there is no reason you can''t find the...back-alley sorts, if you know what I mean."

    Bartlett wished to avoid anything illegal, if he could. Not that he had qualms about it. He was just reluctant to burn all the money he had just earned.

    In the end, Bartlett did not follow the elven dragon rider''s suggestions.

    "I wish I know where Grant is," he said to himself. "Perhaps Rodvar knows."

    The human went to Rodvar, not expecting much. To his surprise, the dwarf shushed him, as if knowing something he couldn''t say.

    "Wait until I''m closed for the day."

    Bartlett and Henrietta waited nearby. As the sun set, the three closed the shop, with Abila and Boluti returning to their homes. Rodvar, whose house was also his workshop, came out of his front door wearing something more casual than the blacksmith apron.

    "Bart, my boy," he said, then turned to Henrietta. "And the dragon. I didn''t catch your name, lass."

    "Henrietta," said the dragon short.

    "Nice to meet you, Henrietta," said Rodvar. "So. What do you need?"

    "I know this doesn''t concern you," said Bartlett. "But can you write to Grant and ask him whether he knows about cursed items?"

    Rodvar sighed. "I doubt he''s going to help. Last I heard from him, he''s already content living among the druids in one of their sanctuaries."

    "Huh. I never thought he found his peace."

    Rodvar shrugged. "Maybe it''s you who needs to learn how to deal with it, lad. And not in a self-deprecating way."

    Bartlett chose not to remind himself of their split.

    "Then, do you know about cursed objects?"

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    "I know they''re a pain to deal with, especially when some smartass adventurer decided that a dwarven blacksmith happened to know how to smith out a curse! Sorry, lad. Talking from experience. I got someone unwittingly cursing my shop and driving people away."

    "So, you do have an experience dealing with them."

    "Oh, don''t tell me you have one of them cursed objects with you!"

    Bartlett glanced at Henrietta awkwardly, before Rodvar realized what he meant and said, "Oh, of course you are. It''s the dragon lass, isn''t it?"

    "Not her. It''s her collar," said Bartlett, pointing at the black metallic collar with runic inscription all over it. "I don''t want to undermine your knowledge, Rodvar, but that collar¡ª"

    "Is not dwarven, I know. I noticed it when measuring Henrietta. Even with my dwarven instinct, I couldn''t even tell the property of the metal, nor the ore that created it. That thing ain''t Fel''uven, for sure. Then there''s that unpleasant aura. It''s subtle, but I can sense it."

    "Fel''uven?" asked Henrietta.

    "Deep Elves. Neighbors to our kingdoms. You better off not knowing about them, lad. They can easily stab your back before you even realize it."

    "But you must''ve known anyone that could help," said Bartlett. "I doubt the magick shops would even want to deal with cursed objects."

    "You do know they do the appraising on unknown magickal items, right?"

    "Yes, but I never heard anyone in Aldimar willing or even capable of purifying a cursed object. I can go to Camarth and find someone shady enough to take a look, but that''ll get expensive."

    "Ah, lad. You''re driving a hard bargain on ya self. Do you really want to help Henrietta or not?"

    "I want to. I just don''t want to bankrupt myself."

    "I thought you already have a lot when I gave you my treasures," said Henrietta.

    "Nothing''s cheap when it comes to cursed objects, princess," retorted Bartlett. "I might as well be doing something illegal to be cursed by something."

    "Well." Rodvar sighed. "If we''re talking illegal, I know someone who might be able to help ya, lad."

    "I have a feeling I don''t like what I''m about to hear."

    "You might''ve heard about her. She''s called the witch of Carlesian mountain."

    Bartlett''s eyes went wide. "Wait, that''s your pick? Can you at least refer to someone who''s not, I don''t know, a criminal? In fact, I don''t even know that the witch''s going to help me."

    "Do you think anyone with a common sense would even risk getting caught experimenting with curse arts in Manarithia?"

    "True, but wouldn''t there be mages with that kind of knowledge? Why her?"

    "She''s infamous for fixing things no sane person would consider doing. Anyone who got involved with cursed items turned to her if they are not willing to be involved with the law."

    "Again, how the hell do you even know what she does?"

    "It''s an open secret around these parts, lad. Just don''t openly admit you went to the witch, or you would have to explain yourself to the constables and I doubt you want to explain the lass''s secrets anymore than you do now."

    "Oh, great," said Henrietta, sarcastically. "This is getting better already."

    "Is she still called the witch of Carlesian mountain? Shouldn''t she...you know, relocate to escape the law?"

    "Don''t ask me why. She''s the one who chose to stay," said Rodvar with a shrug. "That''s all I know. You traveled more than I do, Bart. Someone you met in your journey might know someone else."

    Bartlett pondered about it, knowing that this was beyond whatever he did before he met Henrietta. He never dealt with cursed objects or cursed princesses before. It was beyond his comfort zone! In fact, dealing with criminals was not exactly his thing, either. He had lived his life in a relatively safe environment where everything was to be expected. Backdoor dealings were not part of his knowledge. This was why he had a hard time bargaining for the jobs he took from an adventurer''s guild. A lot of independent adventurers do so.

    Just as he thought he should just try and ask his friends in Aldimar, Henrietta nudged him and said, "You know what? This is the best chance we ever get. Let''s go find this ''Witch of the Carlesian Mountains''."

    "What?! She''s a witch, princess! They practice magick, sure, but they don''t do it the right way! Besides, she''s a criminal! We''ll got into trouble associating with her!"

    "Why not? Rodvar claims she can fix things no one is willing to fix. Besides, this is your own fault to begin with. You could''ve turn around and forget I ever existed, but then, the promise of gold is so alluring you decided to stick around with this dragon. You''re a kind person, Bartlett, but you can sometimes be a little too good for your own good."

    "Oh, so now, you''re coercing me?"

    Henrietta made a smug, devilish smile. "You took my gold, and forced me into wearing a riding gear. It''s already degrading enough for a princess to do that. The least I can do is to have all the rights to ask something in return, right? Unless, you think I''m just a talking animal and I don''t have human rights?"

    "You...." Bartlett groaned in frustration. She had a point.

    Rodvar, who listened to their conversation, laughed, and said, "Oh, she played her cards well, laddie! It''s your loss on this one."

    "The basics of politics, Mr. Evans," she said with a formal tone, as a princess would. "The royal court is just as muddy as a dirt road after heavy rain. Sometimes you need to know how walk around that mud to get what you want, if you know what I mean. Only children play in mud."

    Bartlett groaned in frustration as he realized that Henrietta had a point. There was no way to give her gold back now that he already deposited it into his account. A dragon did not need bank accounts, and they certainly didn''t need money. He sealed the deal when he aimlessly accepted Henrietta''s gold as a reward without even asking if there''s a catch. He was, like many adventurers, blinded by greed.

    He played the role of a gullible adventurer too well.

    Even so, he did not notice how Henrietta''s tone subtly changed during the conversation, especially when she said ''only children play in the mud''. She did not care about politics, but she did find the merit of maneuvering it. It had been something that bothered her ever since she learned the rules of the court, and what the king expected his family to know. He was also sometimes forced to deal with hard decisions, some of which were unpopular for a time. She learned that decisions were made not from short-sighted situations; her father told her that it was best to be disliked than to lose the whole kingdom.

    "One day," she remembered him saying. "The citizens will appreciate you for what you chose. Yet, be mindful of what you do before then, or it will mark the end of your story."

    Yet it did not matter in the end. She was no longer human, and anyone who knew here were gone. In the end, she might end up being forgotten and forced to live as a dragon forever, never able to break the curse. She would forever be on the run, unable to become a true dragon with the cursed collar.

    That was the eventuality she feared.

 Chapter 8

    As much as Bartlett wanted to avoid having to consult the witch, he found he had no alternatives. The topic of cursed objects alone was already sensitive enough as it was. There was also the fact that nobody would believe that the pink-scaled dragon he was trying to save was a cursed princess of Wyrith. Her striking appearance was already difficult enough to explain as it was. There was also the fact that her presence could put Aldimar in danger.

    If any Wyrithian spies reported their findings, Aldimar would be plunged into a war it was not equipped for.

    So, knowing that they had no other choice, Bartlett decided to find the witch of Carlesian mountain and hear what she had to say. Noting that it was better to rest up for the long journey ahead, they did so, deciding to set off as the sun rose. Bartlett used the time to check on his provisions, all of which he put in the satchel on Henrietta''s saddle. By sunrise, after informing Rodvar that they would be gone for a while, Bartlett and Henrietta set off into a journey to the Carlesian mountain range to the north.

    For Henrietta, this was the furthest she had ever been from her own kingdom. Once they departed Aldimar, the princess-turned-dragon looked towards the direction of Wyrith. She found that she could no longer see the border, and that lift her mood somewhat. Then there was the sea to her right. She had never seen the sea before. Bartlett deliberately traveled along the seafront just so Henrietta could appreciate the flat, sandy beaches and the blue sea.

    Bartlett could easily tell how happy she was. Her draconic face had more expressions than he thought a reptilian would have. Granted, calling her a ''reptile'' was not right, either, considering the mane covering parts of her head and the ears at the base of her horns. Perhaps those were what remained of her humanity, and the most obvious indication that she was not a true dragon, but a human cursed into one. That still did not explain the coral-like horns, though.

    Yet, he was happier to the fact that she looked at the sea in awe.

    "Is this the first time you have ever seen the sea, princess?" asked Bartlett.

    "I lived near a lake and some mountains," she said after shaking her head. "The city is surrounded by trees, making it rather cold in winter."

    "We are far from inland, after all. Do you want to stop and enjoy the beach?"

    "I rather not. I much prefer we deal with this collar first before I can enjoy anything. Anyway, are we going through your capital?"

    "We are not following the road to Camarth . We are going north, towards the mountains. Why?"

    "My mother...." She hesitated to continue before she accepted the harsh truth. "Was...a Manarithian noble. I had relatives. But...I don''t know them well. When my mother became the queen of Wyrith, she...hardly returned home. They would not recognize me, even when I''m human."

    "It...must have been hard," sympathized Bartlett.

    "No, don''t be," said Henrietta, swallowing her sorrow. "This doesn''t concern you, Bartlett. I''m just wondering if I can see the crown prince for myself."

    "Why the crown prince specifically?"

    "I was betrothed to him. And before you ask, no. It''s not out of love. It''s nothing more than politics."

    Bartlett immediately became intrigued by her claim. The reason the war started was because the Wyrithian side accused the crown prince for slandering her. Nobody believed that was the case, but the Wyrithians would not listen to reason. The rest was history.

    "Maybe someday I''ll take you there," said Bartlett. "Not to meet the crown prince, unfortunately."

    Henrietta chuckled. "I doubt I''d even been allowed to enter the castle."

    "When we unseal your fire, we''ll find a way to return you back to human," assured Bartlett. "This is a big world. There''s bound to be someone out there who knows how to return you back."

    "Don''t rush for my sake, Bartlett. Also, why do you keep calling me princess? I thought I said Henrietta''s alright."

    "I like calling you princess. You don''t see a lot of pink-scaled dragons around with translucent wings, or any at all. You look like the princess of all dragons with that appearance."

    Henrietta laughed. "Are you trying to court me?"

    "Not intentionally. Do you prefer that I call you by your name instead?"

    "No, no, it''s fine. I still prefer Henrietta, but you can call me whatever you want."

    "If that''s what you want, then okay," said Bartlett. "Still...meeting a witch, huh? This sounds like a bad idea."

    "Better than spending years scouring this vast land for someone with a specific knowledge," said Henrietta. "I''m fine being a dragon for a little longer, but I want do some dragon-y stuffs. Dragon breathes fire, so why can''t I?"

    "Breathing fire''s not a joke, princess. Just because you can, doesn''t mean you must."

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Yes, I know that. I was taught those exact words by father. I only realized what it really meant when I grew up. But come on, Bartlett. Don''t you feel like something is missing when it should be? Like, what if you suddenly can''t fight with your sword, or maybe you forgot that nifty spell you used to counter that man?"

    "You...have a point, actually."

    "That''s why I want to have my fire back, just so I can be useful. Say, where is the Carlesian mountain range?" said Henrietta as she looked around. "Is it that one, straight ahead?"

    "That''s the one," said Bartlett. "We could cut our journey short, but alas, we can''t just fly there, can we?"

    Henrietta rolled her eyes. If the sarcastic tone wasn''t obvious enough, it was Bartlett''s smug face.

    "You know you''re this close to my claws, right," she said, growling. She emphasized the distance with her claws.

    "Sorry, sorry. It''s just, the mountains are still a distance away. You have a pair of wings you can''t use. It''s frustrating if you think about it."

    "Well, since this is your idea, maybe you should be the one guiding me. Come on. Teach me how to fly, then."

    Disregarding her snarky, sarcastic tone, Bartlett climbed on her back, but then became reluctant when she opened her wings. Still, if he wanted to get it over with, he might as well learn how to be a dragon rider while his dragon was also learning how to fly.

    He would soon regret suggesting it when Henrietta took flight. As he expected, the princess-turned-dragon was completely unfamiliar with how her wings worked. She beat her wings furiously and even hopped in place, attempting to lift off the ground. She couldn''t even take flight.

    Her attempts, unsurprisingly, made Bartlett sick. After Henrietta''s fifth attempt of gaining flight, Bartlett shouted for her to stop, to which she did. He then climbed down her back, feeling disoriented, sick, and was trying not to throw up.

    Henrietta could say something witty, but instead, she felt sorry for unintentionally causing the sickness. All she could do was to try and comfort the man by nudging him and said, "Take some rest. Good thing my leaps and bounds does cut our journey considerably."

    Bartlett, upon recovering, found that she was right. A journey that would take hours were done in half an hour, all because she leaped forward while attempting to gain flight. Still, he did not wish to do that any time soon, not until Henrietta learned how to properly fly as a dragon.

    Due to this, and due to Henrietta''s reluctance to cause further discomfort for her unlikely partner, they decided to walk the rest of the way, only doing flight lessons when they made camp, though it did not matter much. The adventurer did not expect that he would meet a dragon who needed to learn how to fly, given that, in his knowledge, dragons learned how to fly just as they learned how to walk. He was aware that Henrietta was a special case, but still.

    These early blunders, however, gave Henrietta an idea. She urged Bartlett to climb on her back after he recovered enough, not wanting to leave him behind.

    "I don''t know if this will work," she warned. "So, hold on tight."

    Bartlett was already holding on for dear life due to her bounding and leaping, but soon realized that Henrietta was trying something different when she started to run on all fours. Unlike flying, Henrietta learned how to run on all fours in just days. Somehow, it came out as naturally as running, even though she had never run on all fours like an animal her whole life. She paid it no mind, just feeling glad that she could still run.

    She gained speed as she ran like a cat would, helped by her lithe body, while keeping her wings outstretched. Bartlett kept his grip on the saddle as tightly as he could.

    He then felt himself pressed to his saddle, unable to lift his head without effort. Bartlett kept his eyes straight, focusing on the back of Henrietta''s neck and her blonde mane. He was immediately drawn to Henrietta''s ecstatic scream.

    "Oh my god!" she said while laughing. "I''m flying!"

    Bartlett looked down. It was a big mistake. The land kept getting further and further. Bartlett quickly looked away, not wishing to imagine himself falling to the ground.

    Like Henrietta, he couldn''t contain his excitement.

    "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Henrietta, you did it!"

    "This is the best day of my bloody life!" she exclaimed.

    Her flight was not long. In fact, when she left the ground, she only traveled at least ten feet further before she stopped gaining altitude and slowly descending. Henrietta thought fast, trying not to be overwhelmed by emotions. She kept her wings outstretched and her legs straight. When they touched the ground, she started running until she slowed down with considerable effort. She looked back to where she started. She was a little disappointed that it wasn''t as far as she hoped. But, at least this was an improvement.

    "H-how did you think of that?" asked Bartlett. "I never saw a dragon do that."

    "I''m not a dragon, remember?" said Henrietta. "I was never taught how to fly. But I remember seeing children playing with kites."

    Bartlett, amazed that she based the basics of fly from seeing children playing with kites, said, "You''re one hell of a dragon, you know that? Or princess? Dragon princess?"

    Henrietta simply chuckled, taking in the compliment.

    She then did the run and glide several more times, each time maintaining more airtime as she stabilized her flight. While it was far from true flight (she barely beat her wings), it was good enough to shorten their trip through the plains. By the time they reached the forest, they had cut a day''s worth of journey.

    The achievement helped give Henrietta a peace of mind, knowing that she was not useless. She was no longer human, yes, but the least she could do was learn how to be a dragon her own way. She was glad to have quite a creative mind, and also observant enough to get an idea of flight from kite alone.

    This even prompted Bartlett to comment, "I never thought you of all people would get the idea to fly from a kite."

    Henrietta chuckled. "Being a princess is not all dressing up and be presentable in royal balls, you know."

    "Then forgive this commoner for thinking that the castle is nothing but gossip and hearsays."

    "You''re not too far off. In fact, I''m surprised you''re not calling it a place to find a prince to court to."

    "I''m just sparing you the harsher words, princess."

    Henrietta sighed. "I know. The common folks have all the privilege to criticize us for what we do. But we kept reminding them that this was their idea, too. If they hated this display, they would already let us know already, and not in a good way. The balls did not strike me as important, but my siblings considered it important for the future of our kingdom."

    "So...if things go wrong, it''s easier to blame the commoners?"

    Henrietta scoffed. "It goes both ways, you know. Just...let it be, okay, Bartlett? I''m just a dragon now. I don''t have to attend balls and hear nasty gossips that ruined my trust on people."

    "I thought you want to be rid of this curse."

    "I''m a realist, Bartlett. There is no way I''m going back to human any time soon."

    Bartlett let out an approving grunt. There were still so many things he wanted to know about the former princess, but for now, he was glad that she managed to learn how to glide.

    And so their journey continued....

 Chapter 9

    The town of Carlesi took its name from the Carlesian mountain range that spanned the nations of Manarithia and Clydeth, with parts spilling into Wyrith and the Eastern Sea. Most of the range was within Manarithia, which contributed to the kingdom''s varied climate, ranging from subtropical to temperate. The border between the two kingdoms were right in the middle of the mountain, with an official sign and border control situated in the mountainous town of Tisnei (on the Manarithian side), and the town of Blythen (Clydethian side). Bartlett had never been to the mountain town before, considering how he did not really travel to Clydeth to find work.

    Bartlett was once suggested by some of his acquaintances to visit the mountains, even though some, especially seasoned adventurers, suggested that he should not. Those who thought positively of the mountains saw it as a place to unwind due to the abundance of resort towns. Those who thought negatively of it regarded it as a treacherous region, particularly for adventurers whose quest brought them to the mountains. While the surface of the snowy mountains was relatively safe and perfect for a winter getaway, the interior of the mountains was home to many unknowns. The highest peaks were unreachable and were home to dragons. The caves were so extensive that one could get lost and become the victims of whatever lurked within. Only the dwarves were able to thrive well, seen from the establishment of the mountain town of Corlusbo.

    Carlesi did not escape this reputation either, at least from the impression Bartlett had when he was learning about the town from a tavern in a small village at the base of the mountain. He did not need to be subtle about the witch, as she was apparently a local figure, both negative and positive.

    Bartlett could not be sure of the information he got, especially when he found that most of the patrons did not think highly of travelers like him. They either dismissed him as ''too southern'' owing to his suntanned skin or because of his draconic companion. They were clearly intimidated by a dragon rider''s presence. Some who did give him information already downed their third pint of the day, so they were unreliable.

    Thankfully, like every tavern, the bartender was always the most reliable source of information. Ironically, he was a canine person, probably a wolf, one of Clydeth''s native beast people, with a mix of red-brown fur that were shaggy and unkempt, with most of it covered by a long-sleeved shirt. He had a handsome lupine head, with every features one would expect to find in a wolf. His yellow eyes gazed at the newcomer, who sat at the counter.

    "Anything you need?" asked the indifferent lupine bartender.

    "One shot of brandy," said Bartlett. The bartender obliged.

    He took a small sip, tasting the sweetness of said brandy and the burning alcohol aftertaste. Feeling more confident already, he asked, "What can you tell me about Carlesi?"

    "The town or the witch?" asked the bartender. "Sorry if I sound curt, but that''s what anyone''s asking about these days. If it''s not superstitious folks, then it''s the knights. Often times, they came back down from the mountains defeated. They told me that she''s nowhere to be found. Others are less courteous. If it wasn''t for how I look, they would vent their frustrations on me. Hopefully, you don''t do the same, traveler."

    "Ah. Well...that''s a little discouraging."

    "But I''m not the kind of person who''d rudely turn away a paying customer, especially one who''s riding a dragon," said the lupine bartender while eyeing at Henrietta through the window. "Never have I met a purple dragon like her before."

    "Uh...she''s more of a pink for me," said Bartlett.

    "Ah. Perhaps it''s how I perceive color with my eyes," said the bartender, sneaking a smile. "Latranians see the world differently than humans."

    The lupine bartender then took the glass Bartlett just drank from, assuming that he wouldn''t stay long. This was further reinforced by Bartlett himself, who pulled out a silver coin for the brandy. Yet, one shot of brandy did not usually cost that much. This was a silent request from the bartender to seek information, as was customary for adventurers seeking information in their quest.

    The bartender simply obliged.

    "If you seek answers, you better ask the Carlesians about it," said the lupine bartender. "But be wary of their responses."

    "Why? What''s wrong with them?" asked Bartlett

    The bartender responded cryptically.

    "You don''t get to hide this long without devotees."

    Bartlett, assuming that the bartender was talking about the witch''s followers and the possible spell she might trap him in, said, "I''m not so easily charmed. I brought precautions."

    The Latranian chuckled, amused by Bartlett''s confidence. "Pray that it is enough, human."

    Bartlett smiled back at the lupine person, walking out of the bar with better understanding of what he was up against. The other bar patrons fixed their gaze towards him, but soon looked away once their eyes met with his dragon''s blue eyes, moments before Bartlett closed the door.

    "Had a good drink?" asked Henrietta.

    "Not enough to be considered good," said Bartlett. "But I''ll take it. I don''t drink on a job."

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "Anything you''re willing to share?"

    Nothing except that we might find our answer in Carlesi, and the fact that we should be wary of the witch''s followers."

    "She has followers? That''s new. Rodvar never mentioned anything about followers."

    "He might be none the wiser. Let''s go."

    Henrietta accepted that perhaps Rodvar did not know about it and prepared herself. She hoped her teeth and claws were enough against the witch''s spell, though she was unsure. The witch''s long survival was not because of her being tough, but because she was elusive. Having followers loyal to her would make that matter more complicated.

    The road to Carlesi, as both Henrietta and Bartlett realized, was craggy. Sometimes, it did not resemble any roads at all. They only managed to find the right way from the signs, which did not say much other than pointing them towards either the town or the Manarithia-Clydeth border crossing. After a while, the road branched, and the two followed the sign directing them to Carlesi, crossing a stone bridge. Henrietta was glad that they finally reached paved road again. The craggy path to the town felt dangerous.

    After two hours from the village at the base of the mountain, they finally reached the town of Carlesi. Both expected the town to be run-down and the people wary of travelers, noting the notoriety of the mountains. Instead, it was the opposite.

    The town, while clearly old enough to have cobblestone and wood foundation, was well-maintained and was populated with people of many kinds. There were Manarithian knights, traders, and more populating the town. It was a clear, relatively warm day, after all, given that it was late summer.

    "Doesn''t look like a place to find a witch," said Bartlett. Henrietta concurred with a grunt, not wanting anyone to turn their attention to her simply because she talked.

    Bartlett''s first and most reliable source of information was usually the tavern, so he asked Henrietta to stay while he asked anyone in the tavern who might have an information he needed, or simply clues he could discuss with the dragon. He climbed down her back and promptly walked towards the tavern. It was rather crowded for the day, with people having drinks and talked to one another. Some even smoked their pipes, exuding a rather pleasant aroma of the herb they smoked. Bartlett was not a smoker, so he couldn''t appreciate the taste, though he was not averse to it. They seemed to be discussing something about a mine opening, which can supplant the town''s coffers. There was nothing unusual there.

    He sat on the counter, with the bartender wiping a washed mug and let it dry. He looked up and saw Bartlett and said, "Well, well. A new face. Haven''t seen a stranger for a while now."

    "I''m just passing by," said Bartlett.

    "Nonsense, my friend. You don''t go to a mining town without a reason, especially not a dragon rider."

    Bartlett raised an eyebrow. "How do you know I''m a dragon rider?"

    "Somebody shouted ''dragon'' and almost turned the whole place upside down. If it wasn''t for someone else pointing out the riding gear, we might need to consider your presence here. It''s a surprise, but a welcome one. I mean, you usually fly above us, never even bothering to visit. Dragon''s not doing well, perhaps?"

    "Something like that," said Bartlett. He was trying not to ask about the witch, heeding the warning about her having followers. Just in case, he wore a magick dispelling pendant he brought as a precaution.

    "Ah, I see," said the bartender. Bartlett failed to notice that he was staring at his pendant.

    "Care for a drink?" he offered

    "I''d rather not," said Bartlett, aware that it could potentially be spiked. "I''m just here to rest. I''ll be on my way soon.."

    "Where to?"

    "Clydeth. It''s just over the other side of the mountain, right?"

    The bartender chuckled. "Of course, you are. Then again, this town is far from the border, and the road leading to said border is closer than the road leading to this town. Like I said. No one went here without a reason. If you''re not here to rest, or to visit the mines, then perhaps you are looking for someone? A witch, perhaps?"

    Bartlett''s expression turned serious. He did not immediately answer. The bartender chuckled, this time rather deep and menacing

    "Oh, my friend. You made a mistake," said the bartender. "Even if you try to hide your intentions, once I asked you the right questions, your expression changed. It always works."

    "Sorry. I''m not good at lying," said Bartlett, hand on his sword. The bartender noticed this and clicked his tongue.

    "So quick to resort to violence, my friend?" asked the bartender. "Perhaps a drink, so we can talk about this in peace?"

    Bartlett scoffed. "Do you really think I''d fall for...that?"

    His vision started to blur and distort. He stumbled on his chair, starting to lose his balance.

    "H-how?" he wondered in his confusion. He never drank anything ever since he entered the tavern. Did someone used a laced tip? The chair he sat on? His mind started to wander as he started to feel disoriented, not realizing that everyone in that tavern were staring at him silently, not even asking if he was okay or even worried. They stared at him silently.

    "How, indeed?" said the bartender, whose smile widened. His voice started to become distorted. "Why use something so obvious, when you can fill the whole room with it?"

    Bartlett couldn''t even think straight. The bartender''s voice and the laughter around him sounded distorted and surreal it started to overwhelm his senses. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. Soon, he lost his strength, lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. The whole world was spinning, and he couldn''t stay in place.

    His distorted vision started to change again, this time with colors. There were patterns...shapes. Things. He wasn''t sure how to describe it, but the colors were so vibrant and bright. It''s like a rainbow right in front of his eyes, turning everything into a rather messy kaleidoscopic view. He tried to turn away, but it was still there, filling his vision with distorted images. He couldn''t feel anything else, even his body. He did not know what he was touching, or what he was on.

    As he was being overwhelmed by the visions, the bartender stood nearby as he looked at the patron who was smoking. He let out a smile.

    "No one ever suspect a pipe smoker," said the bartender. "Hmm?"

    The bartender noticed a jeweled pendant and felt the magick emanating from it. He chuckled.

    "Clever," said the bartender as he pulled the pendant off Bartlett. "Unfortunately, this is not magick. This is nothing more than mushrooms. Very potent, and not as pungent as you expect it to be. Once you got a whiff of it, you''ll feel like you''ve been teleported to a place of pure magick. You prepared well, my friend, but unfortunately, you did not count your nose."

    Noting that Bartlett could no longer hear him and was already staring blankly into space. The bartender stopped. He then looked outside towards the pink-scaled dragon, oblivious to what its rider was currently doing. He noted something on her, specifically, the black collar decorated with runes.

    "Interesting," said the bartender. "Perhaps a test is in order. Why don''t we prepare you for a little game, my friend? It''s not everyday you get to play with a dragon."

    He looked at Bartlett, now unresponsive and started to drool as his jaw slackened. The bartender''s chuckle turned to laugh.

    Everyone always fall before they even met with the witch.

 Chapter 10

    Henrietta waited patiently, oblivious of Bartlett''s predicament. She wanted to peek inside and see how it went along, but she decided not to, aware that it would only draw unwanted attention towards her. She was already aware enough of her grayish pink scales and her unusual appearance when compared to other dragons. Better stay out of their attention, lest it proved to be unwanted.

    Just as she started wondering why Bartlett took so long just to ask about the witch, the man himself walked out of the tavern. Henrietta was going to greet him when she noticed his ragged appearance and dour state. It''s like he was exhausted after doing some intense workout.

    "Did you drink too much?" It was the first thing Henrietta had in mind on Bartlett''s state, though she could not speak it out loud. Thankfully, Bartlett started speaking.

    "We got a lead," he said monotonously. "The witch is in the forest near the town. We should check it out."

    Henrietta simply grunted, though she wondered why he sounded weird. As he climbed on her back, the dragon decided that she should ask him when they were alone.

    The forest he directed Henrietta to was at the back of the town. Entering it already made Henrietta felt uneasy. The forest did not look that thick from outside, but as they continued inside, the sunlight was obscured by the thick foliage, and the trees seemed to become less separated. Soon, fog even settled into the area, despite it being clear earlier. There was a foreboding feeling of discontent that creeped Henrietta out.

    "Hey, Bartlett," asked Henrietta. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

    Bartlett did not respond to her question.

    "You''re not sure yourself, huh?" she asked. "A simple yes or no should be fine."

    "I am fine," said Bartlett, albeit monotonously. "We are going the right way. The bartender in the tavern said so."

    "And stop talking like that. Why did you suddenly have a stiff voice?"

    "I am not."

    "Seriously, stop talking like that. You are scaring me, Bartlett."

    "Stop."

    "What?"

    "Stop."

    Bartlett''s monotonous delivery of that line had no strength to it, which caused Henrietta not to react moments before she got to a cliffside. She let out a surprised roar just as her one of her forelegs slipped off. If it wasn''t for her clenching her claws to keep her from sliding off, she and Bartlett might have plunged off the cliff. It wasn''t that high for Henrietta, but Bartlett could easily be killed.

    "Shit!" she exclaimed after they got back up. "What''s wrong with you?! Didn''t you see the edge of the cliff?!"

    Her angry remarks were not heeded by Bartlett.

    "Hey! I''m asking you a question!" she said, angrily. "Answer me!"

    Bartlett did not respond, which caused Henrietta to become further convinced that something wrong happened to him. Just as she was going to force him off her back (which could potentially hurt him due to her talon-like claws), Bartlett finally spoke normally, except he was not making sense.

    "So. A talking dragon," he said. "That''s unexpected."

    "What? Bartlett, what...?" Realizing that she was no longer speaking with Bartlett, she said, "Who are you?!"

    "The one you and your rider are looking for. The one you refer to as the witch."

    "Witch?" Henrietta scoffed. "I suppose it makes sense for you to speak through someone else, given your notoriety. It was you who led us to the cliffside, wasn''t it? Where are you?"

    "Where I am is not important," said the witch. "Because right now you''re the one in trouble. So, let''s play a little game. I''ll let you and your rider out of this forest if you are willing to let me in on your secret."

    "I have no time for games, witch!" retorted Henrietta.

    "Too bad. I''m the one making the rules here." The witch then laughed. "And if you care so much for your rider, you should try and protect him."

    Henrietta immediately understood what she meant when she saw the trees moving, moments before the branches started to move unnaturally. She immediately realized the danger and quickly ducked, but remembered Bartlett was still on her back when one of the branches managed to snatch him. Alarmed, she immediately climbed the tree and broke the branch to get Bartlett down, though then she realized something that might impair her ability to help.

    When she grabbed Bartlett''s unconscious body, she noticed her talons, the same ones that could easily rend flesh. It dug through his meager leather armor. If she was not delicate, she could end up seriously injuring him. Worse, he could even be accidentally killed. Unlike the humans she killed earlier, Bartlett was like a precious doll.

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    "Bartlett, wake up!" said Henrietta amidst the hostile forest. "Can you hear me? Wake up!"

    She was forced to run as the trees creaked to life and started attacking her with their branches. The dragon awkwardly ran while holding Bartlett''s clothes in her mouth. Loud, terrifying noises, unlike anything she heard before, intimidated her, along with the trees, which whipped her with their branch. The force of the attack was enough to make her keel in pain. It was much more forceful than being hit by a wooden sword when she was human. Back then, it left nothing but bruises. But this one felt like a sting from a cut.

    She was then surprised by the sudden appearance of a tree right in front of her. She attempted to stop, but was unable to, and crashed at the tree. She gasped, dropping the unconscious Bartlett as a result.

    Frustrated, she let out a roar.

    "Enough! Don''t expect me to be so helpless, you bitch!"

    She went for the offensive, blindly striking at some of the trees with all her might. To her delight, the tree fell. She even grabbed the branch striking her and, with a roar, broke it to pieces, and hurled it at one of the attacking trees in a violent rage. She even found out about her tail''s capability when she whipped her tail to break another tree. But this euphoria and delight did not last long. She realized the hard way that her lithe body may be strong enough to break small trees, but big pine trees with a thick trunk was beyond what she was capable of. Unfortunately, she was blinded by rage, and when she hurled her whole weight in an attempt to break the tree, not only did she fail, she also crashed to a rather solid object, so much so that it broke her tail.

    The pain was great and overwhelming, as if this was the first time she had her bones broken. She roared in pain as she fell on the ground. Soon, she was wracked with such a painful sensation as the pain from her actions were somehow amplified, causing her to writhe in pain.

    "Aw. Little dragon can''t stand some broken bones?" taunted the witch through Bartlett. Somehow, the condescending delivery of that taunt with Bartlett''s voice made it even worse. "The trees have feelings too, you know. You hurt them, they hurt you back tenfold."

    "Shut up! If I have my gods damn fire, I will burn this whole forest down and your insufferable ass with it!"

    "Then burn the forest down," said the witch, this time with a rather uninterested tone. "Go on."

    Henrietta would do just that, if only it wasn''t sealed by her collar. She opened her mouth, attempting to do...something. She felt stupid.

    "You can''t. I knew immediately from looking at that collar alone," said the witch. "What are you going to do, then, dragon?"

    After contemplating her options, and knowing that she couldn''t fight the witch, she reluctantly decided on what she should do next.

    "I''m sorry," she said towards the unconscious Bartlett, moments before she bolted away, attempting to run.

    "Well, that''s disappointing," said the witch. "Guess it''s punishment time for rule breakers."

    The witch took control of Bartlett''s unconscious form, letting him walk unharmed through the foliage, disappearing behind the thick foliage. Henrietta, who ran in an attempt to find an escape, found herself increasing disoriented by the rapidly changing forest. She crashed into trees more often than not. Every time she did, it caused her body to be assaulted with pain. It was enough to convince her that running blindly through an enchanted forest was a bad idea.

    She looked around, unable to even tell if she made a progress or not. She did not even sure how long she was in the forest. Was it minutes? Hours? Days? The trees impeded her every step of her way, and the pain sapped the strength from her body and addled her mind enough that she couldn''t think clearly.

    In a sense, she became a terrified animal, a plaything of a sadistic witch. This shook her confidence, made worse by the fact that she was a dragon, not a human. Her breath quickened, and the collar felt tight around her neck. Even the riding gear was constricting her. She also imagined the trees getting closer and closer to her, threatening to ensnare her and deliver immeasurable pain beyond what she had once suffered.

    She could do nothing but run, and subjected herself to the suffering and pain.

    Soon, she was exhausted, and lost all her strength. Defeated, she fell to her side, wracked with pain that had effectively stunned her. This was made more humiliating by the fact that she, a dragon, was defeated by trees. It made her remember the stories she read with her youngest brother, about evil dragons that were defeated because they were too arrogant and boastful. The story reflected her current situation, and it embarrassed her immensely.

    And amidst that embarrassment, her humanity took over. Bartlett was gone. Her savior, who she took for granted, was taken by the witch. She wanted him to help, but alas, it was no use. He was already a victim of the witch.

    "It seems the game is set," said a voice. It''s source was indeterminate. "But we can still play a little more, if you wish. So, what say you, little dragon?"

    She gulped, swallowing her pride. The witch won. Whatever allegiance she had did not matter to her. With a croaked voice, due to exhaustion and pain, the dragon finally said, "I...give up."

    There was no reply.

    "Witch," said Henrietta. "I...I''m sorry. I''m sorry...for lashing out. For threatening to burning the forest. In truth...I am no dragon. I''m...just a woman, cursed into something I can''t cope. I''m sick of being such a useless person, so I thought...I thought I can be of use to Bartlett as his steed. He''s the first person who understood my plight...and is willing to help me. So, please. Take me instead. Just leave Bartlett alone."

    No response. Henrietta realized that she was only making excuses. She gulped and simply poured out her heart. She wasn''t even sure if the witch even believed her at this point. She must do anything she could for Bartlett''s sake.

    "That man you took, he believed in me," started Henrietta. "He believed me when I said I''m a Wyrithian princess cursed into a dragon. He had his doubts, which I understand. Princess Henrietta of Wyrith was never said to be missing, but that''s all crap. I am Henrietta of House Vesparte. Bartlett, he''s...he''s just a kind man who trusted me, even when there is a chance that I was lying to him. If you want someone, take me. I''m far more interesting than him. I''m¡ª"

    "Yes, yes, I hear you the first time," said a rather annoyed feminine voice. "I don''t need to listen to your sob story."

    "H-huh?" said a confused Henrietta. She looked around, wondering where the voice came from.

    "But you know, it''s not everyday you get to gloat against a defeated dragon, or see one suffering. It excites me," said the voice with a chuckle.

    "But by the end of the day, there is a point when the fun''s over," continued the witch. "Follow my voice, dragon princess. Do you know where I am?"

    Henrietta finally found the source of the voice after she regained her strength to stand on all fours and look around. By this point, the fog had dissipated. It came from a red fox, though a big, human-sized one.

    "Hello, dragon," greeted the fox.

 Chapter 11

    "You''re...a fox?" said Henrietta. "An actual fox?"

    "There''s more than meets the eye, Henrietta," said the fox. "All will be answered in due time. Don''t worry. I am not going to trick you. The fact that I''m here is proof of that."

    "Really? Is that all you have to say?" said a skeptical Henrietta. "Just so you know, your little game broke my tail."

    "You''re the one who can''t gauge her strength" said the fox with a smirk on her vulpine face.

    "And the pain? Was that really necessary?"

    "Absolutely. It''s not everyday you see a dragon being slowly broken like that. But alas, I know when to stop. It''s not as fun if you end up too broken. You don''t just break your toys after playing it once, do you?"

    Henrietta was appalled by the fox witch''s comments. The fact that her laugh was so evil sounding, albeit subdued, told her a lot about the person, or maybe animal.

    She was so incensed by this fact that she would not hesitate to mutilate the fox if it wasn''t for Bartlett and her own need to break her curse. All she could say was a profound, "You bitch."

    "And I''m loving every second of it," retorted the witch with a smug smile, enhanced by her vulpine features.

    All Henrietta could do was letting out a frustrated growl.

    The witch, despite admitting to testing Henrietta for her own whims, did heal her broken tail, albeit not as painless as the dragon assumed a healing spell would. Her bones were essentially reset to their original position, and the process caused her considerable pain.

    "There, good as new," said the witch. "Now, then. Shall we continue?"

    Henrietta begrudgingly nodded and stood up, wobbling slightly due to exhaustion. As she did so, the forest shimmered, revealing that it was nothing more than a small forest with sparse trees and obvious cliffside.

    "Was that all just an illusion?" she asked the witch.

    "It serves its purpose well, don''t you think?" said the fox.

    "Then the attacks? And the pain?"

    "Sense scrambling spell," replied the fox. "What hit you is nothing more than a brush from the low-hanging branches and some leaves, but I made it as if you''re suffering the most painful sting from a poisonous barb. Of course, this wouldn''t work if you''re truly a dragon. That''s when I found out that you''re not what you appear to be. That, and your empty threats of burning this forest down. You can''t, not with that collar around your neck."

    "I would if I could," said Henrietta with a huff.

    "I prefer you don''t. But since you clearly can''t, I have no worry about it."

    "Then can you break the cursed collar?"

    "All in good time, Henrietta of Wyrith."

    "Where are you taking me now? Where is Bart?"

    "It''s not far now," said the fox. "Oh, a little head''s up. You might feel a little disoriented, so keep close, alright?"

    Henrietta wondered if this was another trick, even though the witch clearly warned her beforehand. Nevertheless, this was the only way she could finally learn some truth about her curse, and any way she could to break it.

    As she walked with the fox, Henrietta started to feel strange. At first, it was a peculiar feeling where she thought she saw something by the corner of her eye. As she continued walking with the fox, she kept seeing the image by the corner of her vision but couldn''t focus on it as she kept walking. As she continued walking, the image started to be more apparent until it settled right in front of her vision.

    It was an entrance to a cave, or a grotto, since it looked shallow and well-lit, complete with a bed and a kitchen made from wood. There was a small stream nearby, presumably for the witch''s water supply. On the far corner of the cave was a bookshelf and a stack of books, with one book sitting on a pedestal in front of a magic circle. A rather delicate alchemical equipment was beside the bookshelf. Around the area leading to the grotto, the environment seemed warped, making it felt like like they were under a glass dome.

    "Simple, isn''t it?" said the fox. "One can''t afford to have much when you are on the run. Oh, if you''re looking for your rider, he''s fetching some water."

    "He''s not your servant, witch."

    "Too bad he is until the mushroom effects wear off. So, make yourself comfortable. I''m sure he wants to listen, too. While I''m at it, would you like something to eat?"

    "I prefer we talk," said Henrietta. "Don''t get me wrong, witch, but I don''t trust you."

    The fox chuckled. To her astonishment, the fox she had been talking to started to transmogrify. Her forelegs slowly became arms, and her paws slowly became clawed hands. She then stood on her two hindlegs which became her legs, ending with digitigrade paws.

    Before Henrietta''s eyes, the fox turned into a humanoid vixen with shoulder-length orange hair, complete with fur covering her whole body. Her face stayed vulpine, retaining her long, thin snout. She also had a bushy tail, much fluffier than in her animal form.

    "I wished I can do that," remarked Henrietta.

    "Too bad you''re not a Sionnach," said the witch with a smile. "Or a druid."

    Henrietta heard footsteps, so she turned towards the stream to see a still confused Bartlett walking towards them with a bucket of water. When the dragon turned her attention back to the Sionnach, the vixen was already wearing a pair of tight, leather pants and a loose-fitting blouse that did not cover much of her body. It did not really matter, though, considering how her body was covered in fully orange fur.

    "Put the bucket in the kitchen, dear," said the witch. It took a moment before her command got through. When Bartlett did follow her instruction, he had a confused expression on his face. When he finished the job, the witch snapped her fingers. Bartlett suddenly snapped back to reality, confused as to why he was in a kitchen and there was a bucket full of water in front of him.

    "Huh?" he said. "I thought I was in the tavern. Did I...?"

    "Got kidnapped by the witch? You sure did."

    He turned around and saw a humanoid vixen walking towards him seductively. She was tall, at least seven feet tall. Most of that height came from her long, slender legs. He was perplexed by her appearance. Compounded by his drug-addled mind, he couldn''t react when she was standing close to him. Bartlett looked up, meeting her gaze, and her toothy grin.

    Bartlett tried to reach for his sword, only to find that he lost it. In that moment, the witch tenderly hold his face with her hands and kissed him. Her long snout touched his lips, forcing them open as her tongue danced with him as they made out, at least until Bartlett pulled away.

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    "Welcome back, dragon rider," said the witch. "Or should I say, Bartlett?"

    "H-how do you know my name?" asked Bartlett. "And why did you kiss me out of nowhere?"

    "Aww. I thought men like foxes," said the witch with a mock disappointment. "Unless you''re not into beast people?"

    "I''m more into feline people, thank you very much," said Bartlett. "My dragon? Where is she?"

    The sionnach moved aside to show Henrietta sitting near the grotto.

    "Don''t be too mad at her," said the witch. "She told me everything, about her being a princess, about you being a kind person, and that she wished she could properly ask you out if she''s a human¡ª"

    "Hey! Don''t feed him lies!" blurted Henrietta with a growl. The witch only chuckled.

    "Ah, well," said Bartlett, rubbing the back of his head. "At least you''re not a Wyrithian."

    "Sionnachs are not bound to any nations, dear. We''re one of the faeries. Your quarrel with the Wyrithians made a good story, but it doesn''t concern me."

    Bartlett could stay and ask her about her race, but he had a more pressing matter.

    "We''re not here to hunt you down, Sionnach," explained Bartlett. "We came to ask for your help."

    "I know. It''s about the curse befalling her, isn''t it?" said the sionnach. "Let see...."

    She turned to Henrietta, staring at her for a while before she focused on the metallic black collar. She then grabbed it. Her expression turned serious, especially after the black metal band revealed the unknown runes.

    "So," said the witch. "You''ve found yourself in the company of fiends, haven''t you, Henrietta?"

    "Fiends?"

    "This collar is the product of Vyrnian magick. Nasty, and only used by those who gave in to evil desires. Anyone who practiced this magick is surely out of their mind."

    He remembered Nolan, the Wyrithian soldier hunting Henrietta, attempting to cast a kind of black magick. Perhaps that''s the so-called Vyrnian magick she was talking about?

    "Does it have something to do with her being a dragon?" asked Bartlett.

    "No, I don''t sense anything like that from her," said the witch. "Whatever curse that turned her into a dragon has nothing to do with the cursed collar. What cursed her is something else."

    "Oh," said Henrietta with a disappointed tone.

    "But I have good news. I know how to break this cursed collar."

    "Really?!" said Henrietta.

    "Wait," said Bartlett. "I smell a catch somewhere. I doubt you''ll be as generous after what you did to us."

    The witch let out a grin. "Spoken like a true adventurer. Had your fill with duplicitous people, I presume?"

    "I''m not that gullible, witch."

    "Yeah, right," she said, referring to the time she easily trapped him. She then returned to the task at hand.

    "This curse cannot be dispelled that easily. It''s a solid curse that can only be removed by the caster. But you''re in luck. I happened to dabble in alchemy."

    "Alchemy?" Henrietta peered into the cave. "Does that have something to do with that equipment?"

    "You guessed it. Simply put, I can concoct a potion enhanced with magick to break the collar. It''s not pretty, and it would leave some mark. But what alternative you have than to return to the caster?"

    "I can live with scars," said Henrietta. "It''s not like I have a reason to keep my image, anyway."

    "I don''t doubt that. What''s problematic is the ingredients."

    "Tell us," said Bartlett.

    The vixen walked into her home and opened some books at the same time, levitating them with a spell. She skimmed through them and even skipped to chapters with details about Vyrnian magick until she finally found what she was looking for.

    "Aha!" she said. "I found what I''m looking for. It''s a sealing collar designed to seal a mage''s capability to cast a spell, leaving them vulnerable, with an additional effect of debilitating them to the point of death. It''s also strong enough to seal a dragon''s fire. Whoever''s casting it must have great magick reserve to be able to do that."

    "You know what we need?" asked Bartlett.

    "Let''s see...You''ll need a fire thistle, a malachite, three dragon scales, and a cockatrice''s venom sac. The malachite I can get from a nearby mine, as with the scales. The fire thistle is a Clydethian plant, so you might have to travel there to find one. As for the venom sac--"

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a goddamn minute!" said Bartlett. "Did you say cockatrice? The monster that spewed out poison gas with corrosive blood? The chimera with the head of a cock?"

    Bartlett''s comment prompted a snicker on the witch''s part, causing him to be embarrassed when he realized what he just said. Henrietta did not react.

    "Couldn''t you find anything less dangerous, or at least easier to find? Cockatrices aren''t exactly common. I have never even encountered one before. And besides, I don''t want to face a cockatrice if I found one!"

    "Too bad that''s the only monster we have in this region with a venom sac."

    "Can''t we just find a venomous snake and cut out its venom sac?"

    "You''d need to find at least fifty of them, and I doubt you can find any that easily. I''m giving you a simpler choice."

    "Doesn''t sound so simple to me."

    "Nothing in life is simple. But I do believe in luck. Lucky for you, Clydeth has problems with chimeras lately. Some Clydethians mentioned it when they talked in the bar."

    "I thought you said travelers don''t generally go into the town unless there are specific reasons," said Bartlett.

    "They did have a specific reason. They were also hunting me. Guess they found the town beautiful enough to live in."

    A wink from the sionnach was enough to tell Bartlett what she was implying.

    "Touch¨¦."

    "What are the alternative ingredients?" asked Henrietta. "Other than the snakes, I mean."

    "Any chimeras with venom sacs, like a hydra, which is not a native monster. Your best bet is to find one to hunt. Besides, one of the ingredients can only be found in Clydeth, so you have no choice but to go there."

    Bartlett sighed. While he really did not want to make things complicated, he had no other choice. The sionnach witch was their best bet, even though deep down, the human couldn''t trust her at all, especially after she subjected her to a rather terrifying hallucination that caused him to become detached with reality.

    Henrietta also had her reservations. She may not have heard of cockatrices before, but Bartlett''s rather specific description painted quite a hideous and dangerous creature in her mind. She started to wonder if it was worth the effort. She only convinced herself that she should try if she wanted to be able to breathe fire, also to rid herself of the nauseating aura emanating from the collar.

    "Bartlett," said Henrietta. "We have no choice."

    "Are you sure? Cockatrices are dangerous enough for me to avoid quests asking to hunt them down. Sure, the bounty is plenty, but the price to pay is much greater than the profit. Believe me, princess. We are not equipped to fight against a cockatrice. We need to find adventurers with specific skills."

    "I''m sure we can find them in Clydeth," said Henrietta. "You also got me."

    "Henrietta...."

    "If the price to pay to break this bloody collar are some scars and pain, then it''s fine. I prefer we finish this earlier than later if we want to continue searching for a way to break my curse. Unless the witch is hiding the knowledge on purpose just to play with us."

    "I''m not," said the sionnach witch. "Cross my heart."

    Henrietta''s remarks were brave and inspirational, even if it hid her resignation of ever finding a way to break her curse any time soon. She realized she was far more useful as a dragon than a human, even if her freedom was far more limited than she ever wanted.

    Bartlett, impressed with Henrietta''s determination and courage, said, "You don''t sound like a princess to me, Henrietta."

    "Princesses don''t simply spend their day acting pretty. Besides, I am a trained swordsman. I filled my days with sword training. I did say I want to be an adventurer, right?"

    "And why would you want to do that, if I may ask?"

    "Fourth child out of five. I was not expected to be a queen, anyway. Let''s go find a cockatrice to hunt and get this over with."

    Bartlett nodded in agreement, then turned to the sionnach. She seemed to sense what he was going to ask without him even asking. She did not even need to read his thoughts.

    "I am not tricking you, if that''s what you''re concerned with," said the sionnach. "Call me a witch, but don''t expect me to act like one. I do not wish for anyone to suffer from Vyrnian dark magick, even if I dabbled in some dark magick."

    "If we really want to trust each other, we can start with names. You clearly know our names, but we don''t know your name," said Bartlett.

    "I prefer not to give my name away."

    "The mystery is intriguing, but I am not going to call you a witch all the time. Besides, we are the only ones who will know your name. No one know the witch of the Carlesian mountain had a name, anyway."

    "Hmmm...you may be right. Okay, then. My name''s Shana. You know where to find me."

    "Okay. We''ll be back once we found the ingredients."

    "Don''t be long."

    Henrietta still gave Shana a suspicious look, though Shana simply smiled as she, with Bartlett on her back, walked further and further away from her home, beyond the barrier. Once they were gone, however, she chuckled.

    "You shouldn''t even ask my name in the first place," said Shana. "We sionnachs charmed our names. Once you tried to sell me out...poof!"

    She kept laughing to herself, but then slowly stopped as she realized that, in the end, it was she who was acting paranoid. The dragon couldn''t say anything, or she''d ruin her cover. Bartlett made a good point about names. Intrigued by them, she closed her eyes and channeled her consciousness into one of the Carlesi townsfolk she charmed. Through his eyes, she saw Henrietta and Bartlett walking past the town silently.

    "Bartlett and Henrietta, isn''t it?" said Shana. "Perhaps fate wants us to meet, after all. What are the changes of someone carrying the Vyrnian curse magick to me? If this isn''t mother nature trying to tell me to fix my mistakes, then I don''t what it means. Whatever the case, I wish you two luck. I want to meet you again, under better circumstances.

 Chapter 12

    ¡°So, let me get this straight," said Henrietta after listening to Bartlett''s explanation on the cockatrice. "We¡¯re hunting a chicken that happens to also be a giant lizard.¡±

    Bartlett grunted in response.

    "Which also happens to be a venomous monster equal to fifty venomous snakes."

    He grunted and nodded.

    "And said venom is capable of penetrating dragon scales."

    This time, Bartlett simply nodded. Henrietta groaned in response.

    "Great. Just great. It''s never easy when it comes to reptilian monsters, now, isn''t it?"

    ¡°Don''t be afraid to opt out. We can find another way.¡±

    ¡°And what ¡®other ways¡¯ can you suggest? Going on a hunt for fifty slimy snakes?"

    "They''re not slimy," retorted Bartlett. "We can find some asps in the desert. They are one of the most venomous. Then again...finding fifty of them will take too much time. And risk."

    Henrietta let out a sigh. "Everything''s never easy in this life, huh, Bartlett?"

    "I don''t like it, either, but this is a better chance out of any to help you feel more comfortable, at least."

    "I''m afraid I must agree." The dragon sighed, accepting that hunting the cockatrice was the only choice they had. "Any plan?"

    ¡°We can start by finding any information about the cockatrice first," said Bartlett. "Then we hire someone or two who can support us.¡±

    "And what kinds of people do you think we should search for?"

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± pondered Bartlett. ¡°We need a mage who can cast barriers, or a cleric of the Rose. They know blessings that resist poisons. Then, we also need another fighter, preferably one who can deal a massive damage. It''s a plus if he''s a battlemage."

    ¡°You sound like you¡¯ve worked with other adventurers before,¡± said Henrietta.

    ¡°This isn''t my first adventure, princess,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°Solo adventuring is for those who are trying to prove themselves. I''m old enough to know that it''s rare for someone to be able to go on an adventure by themselves. Even if they do start solo at first, they will eventually find allies to help."

    It sounded almost like a confession. Perhaps Bartlett was referring to himself. Henrietta simply accepted this fact and kept it to herself.

    ¡°So, what kinds of adventures you''ve been? Surely you can brag on one or two?"

    Bartlett¡¯s expression turned sad. Henrietta did not catch this as she was looking at the road. After a slight pause, the man said, ¡°I...prefer not to talk about it."

    "What''s wrong?"

    "Not all adventures go well. Let''s just say I finally achieved what I dreamed about. But it comes with regret. I, uh...let''s just focus on the road, shall we? I haven''t been to Clydeth before, so I don''t want to get lost."

    Henrietta understood, and chose not to pry further.

    After reaching the border town and crossing the border, the two finally entered the nation of Clydeth. Blythen, the first town for visitors crossing the border by land, was enough to tell that they were entering a new land. It was markedly different from Manarithia in which there were many contraptions that were virtually non-existent in Manarithia, and were powered by what looked like steam.

    Clydeth was also populated mostly by mages, as it was a democratic nation of mages. Even those who did not work as scholars were properly trained to operate the magick-based contraptions that were practically everywhere, including a portal gate that could take them immediately to the capital, provided one had enough money to enjoy such a premium service.

    Like Manarithia, Clydeth was populated by all kinds of people. Humans, elves, dwarves, and all sorts of beast people intermingle with one another. What made them different from Manarithia, however, were the presence of the native Clydethian people, which were the lupine Latranian and the ursine Arctrosi. While they were not the originators of the technological advancements, they were part of Clydethian society and were responsible for helping develop the Clydethian magick system, a unique spellcasting technique that were taught in Clydethian Academy of Wizards.

    Bartlett closed the book he just bought from the visitor center, resting his eyes. There were a lot to take in. He looked around the area, enoying the view around them as Henrietta walked through the town and into the nation proper. From his casual observation, Bartlett noticed some things.

    Clydeth did not have dragon riders. Bartlett and Henrietta were the only dragon and rider along the road and became the center of attention. Some people asked Bartlett about his experience in dragons. It was a good-natured question, one that Bartlett answered in kind. Henrietta, while staying silent as to not reveal her secret, listened as they complimented her unusual scale color. While she appreciated it, her uniqueness could easily draw attention to herself, so she quickened her pace, leaving the travelers behind while Bartlett awkwardly said goodbye to them.

    Thankfully for them, Clydeth was not as big as Manarithia. What¡¯s more, information spread much easier in Clydeth due to their use of magick. Instead of searching for work in every town they visited, they could simply consult a nationwide quest board posted in the first adventurer''s guild they visit, though it was an awkward endeavor at first due to Bartlett''s unfamiliarity with the system. Fortunately for him, there were people willing to help him operate the nationwide quest board.

    Thankfully for him, an Arctrosi warrior happened to notice his confusion. Bartlett was slightly intimidated by the bear person. He was tall, perhaps two heads taller than him. He was also big and burly, like the animal that he resembled. His ursine head, and the rest of his mostly bare body, were covered in a chocolate brown fur.

    "Can I help you?" he asked.

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    "I, uh...do you...know how to use this quest board?" stammered Bartlett. "I''m...not from around here."

    "I can tell," said the Arctrosi, glancing at his draconic companion. "Manarithian?"

    "How can you tell?"

    "Your style. Also your dragon. I presume it''s yours?"

    "You presume correctly."

    He smiled. Rows of sharp, white teeth filled his maw.

    "It''s nice to meet you. Anyway, you just have to say your query and it''ll give you the best result, if there''s any," he said. "Anything you want to know in particular?"

    "Yes, uh...can it tell me where to find a quest to hunt a cockatrice?"

    "Cockatrice, eh? Sure, we have problems with them lately. But why do you want to risk your life like that?"

    "I, uh...an alchemist friend needs its venom sac. Don''t worry. I know what I''m doing."

    "It''s not my place to judge. To be fair, you are in luck. Clydeth''s having a lot of monster hunting jobs lately. I don''t know what disturbed them, but it might have something to do with the situation on our northern borders."

    "Something wrong?"

    "I don''t know much about the details, but there is a major accident involving dark magick. The borders are sealed off while they are dealing with the rampaging beasts and people caught in the accident. Then, there''s your war with the Wyrithians that''s threatening to spill to Clydeth. I''m not judging you, but I suggest you don''t bring your war to us if you want to stay on our good side. We appreciate the business, not the violence."

    "I''ll keep that in mind."

    Using the nationwide quest board system, Bartlett and Henrietta did not need to test their lucks checking on each towns and/or cities for jobs. Searching for ''cockatrice'' yielded an available cockatrice hunting quest given in the Sondheimer guild, which was a mere three days away from the town they visited. Without delay, they went straight to Sondheimer following the signs on the road. Thankfully, there were camping sites for travelers who preferred to sleep under the stars, or in Bartlett''s case, traveling with a dragon.

    Sondheimer, like most well-developed town, had wide streets covered in bricks, multi-used buildings that could function as both a store with offices, a multi-storied store, a building with multiple stores, or something much more efficient: a store with apartments above it. This was bolstered by the diverse population living in a magick-enhanced, modern town.

    The only thing missing was the presence of dragons, so it did not come as a surprise when Bartlett and Henrietta became the center of attention, especially for the children. Not only was Henrietta¡¯s scale color unusual, she was also the only dragon in town. Bartlett was also seen as an awe-inspiring person; someone who could tame and ride a dragon as if they were horses (a comparison Henrietta hated) was something to behold.

    This also identified them as Manarithians. Some in the gathered crowd even asked if he was on official business (most people outside of Manarithia only ever knew dragon riders as belonging to the law enforcement). Bartlett simply said that he was an adventurer. Thankfully, while some Manarithians greeted him, they did not become the center of attention for long. After they cleared the crowd, Bartlett waved the children goodbye. This did not escape Henrietta¡¯s attention.

    ¡°It feels great, being treated like an important person,¡± said Henrietta. ¡°But you said it yourself. There are Wyrithian adventurers here too. If one of them recognize me...."

    ¡°Relax, princess. Sondheimer''s far from the Wyrithian border, if the map have something to say. I don''t think anyone in Wyrith is hunting you down. Right?"

    "That''s not what I''m worried about."

    "Even if they do, they can''t do anything to you here. Clydeth is a neutral nation, and they will punish anyone who brings the war here. That''s why they warned us not to be inebriated, or we''ll regret it."

    Henrietta was still unconvinced, but she decided to trust on Bartlett''s judgement anyway. She kept her eyes towards the noticeably Wyrithian adventurers who seemed to be whispering among themselves. She dug her claws to the ground, hoping that she would not get impulsive and let her paranoia got over her.

    They soon reached Sondheimer''s own adventurer''s guild. The guild was similar to many other dotting the landscape, except this one had no facilities for a dragon rider. Henrietta had no choice but to wait on the sidewalk while Bartlett inquired within. It was not comfortable as it was a stone sidewalk, and she became a center of attention. She wanted to start talking to spook the onlookers so badly, intending to amuse herself. She fortunately had better self-control than that.

    However, fate would tempt her to break this self-control.

    As she lazily waited for Bartlett, even yawning, she watched the market nearby and the people coming in and out of the guild. Aside from the onlookers who were interested with the presence of a dragon, there were many people in the market buying trinkets, foods, or simply looking around deciding. She wondered about their daily lives, of what they were going through each day. It was certainly a different life compared to either being a princess or being a dragon in the wild. As a princess, she either studied in the castle¡¯s library or learning swordsmanship with one of the commanders in charge of castle defense. As a dragon, she was trying her best to survive, and she learned as she went, even though it started poorly due to her reluctance to carve her hunt and eat them raw.

    She reminisced about her time studying in the library. Her elder sisters and brothers were more active in the court compared to her, especially Albert, the crown prince of Wyrith set to inherit the throne. Her first sister, Consetta, was the mayor, and was the busiest among them. Miriam, his second sister, was more concerned about preserving Wyrithian culture. She could be vain at times, but was generally a good person.

    This left her and her youngest sibling, Thomas, as the unusual ones. While Henrietta trained to be a fighter, her brother was more of a mage, training under the court wizard. She did not know much of what he learned since she had no interest, but she and Thomas were close, mostly due to their youth. There was a gap of seven years between her and Miriam, but only three between her and Thomas. They understood each other well; they never acted formal with one another, and only doing so when it was required, such as during a ball. For Henrietta, he was her only true personal friend, one that was not politically motivated.

    Henrietta sighed. Almost two years had passed. She would be 21 and he would be 18. She never thought things could turn out like this, as she was ready to resign to her fate when she was given a chance to survive by becoming a dragon. When she saw him drifting away on the boat she pushed herself, crying her name, her only thought was to save him from the fates of her family...and supposedly herself. When she turned out to survive, she couldn''t stop wondering about him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think too much about it, Henrietta,¡± she thought to herself. ¡°Thomas is living a happy, humble life. He¡¯s not your responsibility now.¡±

    Her thoughts were broken when a familiar voice caused her to become wide-eyed in disbelief.

    ¡°What a pretty dragon,¡± said a young man¡¯s voice. ¡°I never thought a pink-scaled one exists.¡±

    She turned her head to the familiar voice. He had a short, neatly cut blonde hair and a fair, bright skin mostly hidden under his shirt, vest, and pants. His face and his bright blue eyes, however, were undoubtedly familiar to Henrietta, so much so that she opened her maws slightly in disbelief and her eyes wide in surprise.

    ¡°Thomas?¡± she whispered, before realizing what she did. No one seemed to notice her speak, not even Thomas himself.

    ¡°The rider must¡¯ve painted her,¡± said his companion. "Must be one of those fads in Manarithia. Pink doesn''t suit a dragon."

    ¡°Oh, Rory, don¡¯t be like that,¡± said Thomas. ¡°She could be a faerie.¡±

    ¡°A faerie geared up like a horse? Yeah, right. Anyway, why are we standing around staring at a painted dragon? I thought you want to be a guild member, not a gawker.¡±

    ¡°Seriously, Rory, your bemusement is amusing on its own,¡± said Thomas with a sigh. ¡°Oh, come on, then.¡±

    Thomas kept her eyes on the dragon while Rory rushed into the guild. He smiled and said, ¡°I hope I can meet your rider. I¡¯m sure he has a lot of stories to tell.¡±

    Henrietta wanted to tell the young man to wait, to ask him if he was really Thomas. She stopped short of saying anything coherent, then growled in frustration as Thomas walked past her to enter the guild. She watched as he walked to the front desk with Rory. She knew better than to disturb his life, knowing that she sacrificed her own freedom to save him from the duke¡¯s clutches.

    But to be reunited in such a state? It was painful to acknowledge.

    ¡°Oh, Thomas,¡± thought Henrietta. ¡°I wish you knew¡­.¡±

 Chapter 13

    Inside the guild, Bartlett was worried of what they got themselves into. There was one cockatrice job posted in the Sondheimer guild, but it was hardly visible owing to the newer job postings that obscured it. It took him quite some time scanning through the board postings just to find it. When he noted the job¡¯s assigned number and informed the counter nearby that he would take the job, she looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°I suggest you don¡¯t take this unless you know what you¡¯re doing,¡± said the receptionist. "An unprepared party was killed by the same cockatrice. This isn''t a young monster we''re posting."

    ¡°I am not that short-sighted,¡± replied Bartlett. "I know when not to take a job. Unfortunately, this is part of another job."

    "But still...."

    "Come now, Laurie," said a gruff voice behind Bartlett. "Give this man a chance. One look at him, and you know he has hunted worse."

    Bartlett turned around, coming face to face with the most unusual individual this part of the world.

    The individual was, simply described, a lion person, one of the many beast people that comprised the Jubari Nation in the desert. His body left nothing to imagination, being that of a strong, muscled beast person with a leonine head, complete with mane, yellow, sharp eyes, and fur covering his whole body. He stood a head taller than Bartlett, once again intimidating him by how big these beast people were.

    The lion man caught Bartlett staring at him. His expression was calm, but also calculating, as if he was studying the human.

    ¡°Everyone gave me that look when I approached them,¡± said the lion man. ¡°They never thought a lion man could be a Clydethian guildmaster. They would sooner believe a bear man as a guildmaster than me."

    ¡°I...uh...." Bartlett shook his head, recomposing himself. "Sorry. I am just surprised someone hailing from the Nation came this far inland."

    The lion man chuckled in amusement.

    ¡°You¡¯re the first person I met in this land to have said that. And to think a light-skinned human calling Jubari the ''Nation''. You must have a close relationship with our people."

    ¡°Something like that,¡± said Bartlett with a sheepish grin before he offered his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Bartlett Evans. Pleased to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Kouri Banel,¡± said the leonine guildmaster. ¡°I am pleased to be your acquaintance, Bartlett Evans. Shall we talk business? Preferably somewhere less crowded?"

    Kouri directed Bartlett towards a nearby table, which was at a corner and was not crowded. They sat across each other. The lion man offered Bartlett a drink, to which he simply asked for a gin and tonic while Kouri ordered a beer. As they waited for their drinks, they talked about the cockatrice job.

    ¡°My job as a guildmaster is to make sure nobody is grievously harmed when taking a job,¡± said Kouri. ¡°Every now and then, new bloods hunt beyond their capabilities, resulting in deaths, or worse, a scar that could not be healed. You, on the other hands, has clearly seen things that the average adventurers in this guild has never seen. You have survived longer than most, and for me that is the sign of an old hunter."

    Bartlett, though, wished that wasn''t the case. He simply grunted, his expression troubled. Kouri caught onto this.

    "Not something to be proud of?" he asked.

    "I prefer not to talk about it," said Bartlett. "Yes, I have my fair share of adventures. But I made mistakes, too. Some I regret the most."

    Kouri''s observation was sharp. He could immediately identify Bartlett''s clothing style and the fact that he was a dragon rider. All pointed towards him being a Manarithian, and a Manarithian with a close relationship to the desert would have to be involved in ''that''.

    "Rogaria?" asked Kouri short, but with a sympathetic tone.

    Bartlett replied with a grunt.

    "I''m sorry," said the sympathetic Kouri.

    Bartlett did not reply. He simply drank half of the served gin and tonic. He did not want people to sympathize with him. Kouri understood him and quickly changed the topic of conversation.

    ¡°If I may ask, why are you hunting a cockatrice down? I doubt it has anything to do with chivalry, considering that you don¡¯t have any obligation to Clydeth. Do you have a death wish?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°I have a good reason.¡±

    ¡°May I ask why?¡±

    ¡°I have an alchemist friend who needs to procure a cockatrice¡¯s venom sac for a project. It''s either this or a hydra from faraway lands.¡±

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    ¡°Have you considered the fact that this is not a one-man job? Even if you have a dragon supporting you, it does not guarantee success.¡±

    "Which is why I''m here. I know my limits, guildmaster."

    Kouri nodded. "A good hunter knows his limits. Who are you trying to find?"

    ¡°I was hoping to find someone like a wizard who knows barrier, or maybe a cleric belonging to the Order of the Rose.¡±

    ¡°I can certainly say that I do not know anyone from the Order of the Rose, or any cleric who is a member of this guild. As for the wizard, though¡­I doubt you¡¯ll find anyone who can help. A lot of the more magick-tuned adventurers were drafted to deal with a situation up north to help the soldiers. Sondheimer doesn''t have a lot of combat-capable mages to begin with, so we''re left with the new bloods."

    ¡°Come on. Surely someone is still available.¡±

    ¡°Even if they are available, I doubt they even want to deal with a cockatrice. Chimeras are beasts. Beasts are smart. You get the point.¡±

    Bartlett sighed. That was certainly not a good sign.

    ¡°Although,¡± said Kouri. ¡°There is someone who might be able to help. He¡¯s not part of the guild, so you certainly need to negotiate a little bit to get his help. He''s a veteran, and he has a mage partner."

    ¡°Do you know where they are now?¡±

    ¡°As luck would have it, they are there, by the front desk.¡±

    Kouri glanced at the front desk where two men, a brunette, and a blonde, conversing with each other by the front desk. The blonde did not dress like a mage usually would, but a tome slung across his chest was a dead giveaway. The brunette man had a darker skin, most of it hidden under clothes made out of what looks like snakeskin, giving him a garish look. He had no weapons on him, unlike his blonde companion, who carried a short knife.

    ¡°Hey, Rory! Thomas! This gentleman here¡¯s asking for help,¡± exclaimed Kouri.

    The two walked to them. Rory looked rather uninterested while Thomas was eager.

    ¡°Hey, Kouri,¡± said Rory, then turn towards Bartlett and said, ¡°Help for what?¡±

    ¡°For the cockatrice,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°And in case you¡¯re wondering, yes, I got the coins. This is a one-time job deal, no commitments.¡±

    Rory stared at Bartlett for a while as the man smiled. It did not take long for Rory to smile back and said, ¡°Heh. Sounds like this isn¡¯t the first time you ever hire someone. But I¡¯m not cheap. How does two thousand gold coins sounds, eh?¡±

    ¡°Rory!¡± reprimanded Thomas. ¡°That¡¯s too much!¡±

    ¡°Too much? In case you don¡¯t know, Thomas, he¡¯s asking us to hunt a cockatrice. I am not going to risk my life for something less than two thousand. Or do you have a better price, old man?¡±

    Bartlett was prepared to pay a lot of money, but he never thought the man he just met drove a hard bargain on the get go. He started to doubt the man¡¯s veracity, thinking that he was a scam artist.

    Bartlett had a choice between using his newfound wealth to pay a one-time job until he noticed the blonde man¡¯s attempt to convince Rory to lower the price. He seemed like a good-natured man and was rather easy to talk to. He got an idea.

    ¡°I can¡¯t pay you that much, my friend,¡± said Bartlett, his attention fixed towards Thomas. ¡°But I can relegate my share. It¡¯s a lot more than the price you named. How much is the price for the cockatrice hunt, guildmaster?"

    "Around eight thousand gold coins, if I recall."

    "See? We can split the price. You two get two thousand each."

    ¡°That¡¯s rather generous, good sir,¡± said Thomas. ¡°But we can¡¯t accept that kind of generosity. Rory¡¯s just acting tough because he doesn¡¯t want me to get hurt.¡±

    ¡°Thomas, what the hell?!¡± said Rory angrily. His reaction clearly indicated that he was going to take that offer. As expected, Thomas¡¯s good nature ruined his plan. ¡°Okay, mister. That prize money is far more than my offer, so take it or leave it, okay?¡±

    ¡°Well, I suppose,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°But you see, I have a dragon, and you know how much maintenance they require¡ª¡±

    ¡°A dragon?! Wait, are you telling me that you¡¯re the pink dragon¡¯s rider?!¡± said an excited Thomas.

    ¡°Really? You think it¡¯s funny, painting your dragon pinkish grey like some dress-up doll?¡± said a clearly offended Rory.

    ¡°Look at me. Do you really think I¡¯m the kind of guy who would dress up a dragon? That¡¯s her natural scale color. Try and rub her scales if you like. See if she allows it.¡±

    ¡°Oh my god¡­a real, pink-scaled dragon?! You know what, mister, I''m in! We''ll agree on your terms, but I''d like to ride on that dragon of yours!"

    Rory slapped his head. All negotiations broke down simply due to the young mage¡¯s rather childish fascination to dragons. When he looked at the man''s expression, however, he realized that it was his plan all along.

    Instead of being angry, however, Rory just smiled, acknowledging Bartlett''s shrewd bargaining. Perhaps this would make a good training opportunity for Thomas.

    "Well played, old man," said Rory. "Since Tommy''s here a little too eager for his own good, I''ll come with him. On one condition."

    ¡°Don''t let him get hurt or the deal''s off. Right?"

    ¡°Thomas is not a full-fledged mage yet. Cockatrices are beyond his capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Can he cast barrier, though?¡±

    ¡°I can,¡± said an eavesdropping Thomas. ¡°It¡¯s the first spell I learned. I have also stocked other more combat-oriented spells if you need to, mister.¡±

    "The barrier''s enough for me," said Bartlett, though he had his doubts. Thomas was very young. He must have been a recent graduate from a wizard academy, judging by his looks. There was no way he could cast a barrier strong enough to hold against a cockatrice''s corrosive venom.

    But as his companion, Rory, said, he would not be in danger. Both Rory and Bartlett would prevent that from happening. Otherwise, Bartlett would not gain a friend, but an enemy, instead.

    ¡°It¡¯s set, then. Give me a day to prepare,¡± said Bartlett. "Will the cockatrice migrate?"

    "It has been around for a month now," confirmed Kouri. "Some of the guards kept it within a forest not far from here, but it''s still a menace for some of the villages near the forest, forcing them to move to safety. I''ll contact the guards to let the three of you through when you''re ready to go."

    "Better prepared than sorry," said Rory with a sigh. "You do your own preparation. I, on the other hand, need to talk with Mr. Alonquin over here."

    "For what?" asked Thomas.

    "You know what I mean soon enough."

    His tone was ominous enough to make Thomas gasp. Rory could be scary when he was angry.

    "What''s your name, old man?" asked Rory.

    "Bartlett."

    "Rory Tellian," said Rory short. "See you by the gates tomorrow, Bartlett."

    The two quickly scurried away, with Thomas managing to smile at Bartlett before Rory turned his head away, clearly annoyed by what he just did. The young man was so easily convinced, and it was all thanks to Henrietta for being such a rare sight.

    Although, Bartlett was a bit worried about his over eagerness. He was worried that Henrietta might got too annoyed to the point where she reprimanded the young man with her own voice.

    It would make an amusing sight, though.

 Chapter 14

    Henrietta saw Bartlett walked out of the guild, full of contemplation. He saw Henrietta and pointed her towards the town¡¯s gate where they could talk freely without drawing more attention to them. It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting. It was time for them to make camp.

    As Clydeth was not used to a dragon rider visiting, Sondheimer had no facility like it was in Manarithia. They best they could provide was a camping spot near the edge of town, something not everyone wanted to use due to the accommodation provided for them within the town. It made the look like they were denied entry to the town, but it was the best they could do for the two unusual travelers.

    Despite this, it was private enough that both Bartlett and Henrietta could freely converse. If they felt the open space was not private enough, there was a forest behind the camping spot that they could use to talk. Yet, that would not be necessary, as their voices were soft enough so no one could listen to their conversation.

    ¡°Did you find some additional help?¡± asked Henrietta while Bartlett set up his tent.

    ¡°Two,¡± said Bartlett. "They drove a hard bargain. Thankfully, I managed to convince one of them. I gotta thank you for that. One of them is so easily convinced just from your presence alone."

    "I see," said Henrietta. "Do they satisfy your requirements?"

    "Not exactly, but it''s better than nothing. I don''t know if it''s true or not, but apparently most of the combat-ready mages were being drafted to deal with a situation up north. Then, there''s the fact that we''re dealing with a cockatrice. No one would consider taking this job without a very good reason."

    "Like procuring a venom sac, you mean," said Henrietta. "But are you really sure they are capable?"

    "I don''t know how good the mage was with spells, but he did claim to know about barriers. He looked honest enough, but I can''t tell if he''s desperate or not. He didn''t sound like it. His companion seemed more reliable, though I doubt he''ll do as well, being an unarmed combatant."

    "How can you tell?"

    "He didn''t carry any weapons. There''s no reason for him to be an adventurer without one, so I quickly assumed that his body is his weapon. What I''m not convinced is his personality. I can''t believe he thought I painted you pink!"

    "Eh?" Henrietta perked up his head. The man and his companion, could it be¡­?

    ¡°H-hey, Bartlett,¡± asked Henrietta. ¡°Those men. What are their names?¡±

    ¡°Rory and Thomas. Why?¡±

    "Thomas? Oh, no."

    "What''s wrong with Thomas?"

    "Bartlett, stop making that tent and listen to me. We need to talk."

    Bartlett wondered what got into her, but he obliged.

    "What''s gotten into you, Henrietta?" he asked.

    Henrietta looked around before she whispered her thought.

    "That man, Thomas...he''s my brother."

    There was a slight pause before Bartlett said, ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°I know what I saw, Bartlett. That comment about me being painted pink? That was after he admired me. I looked up and saw his face. I could never mistake my brother''s face, Bartlett."

    ¡°Okay, okay¡­let me get this straight. That young mage, with a little too much eagerness towards dragons and who I managed to convince to lower the hiring price so that he could ride on you¡­happens to be your brother. Your alive, human brother?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a little too much information, but the answer is a solid yes."

    Then, as if noticing something in that statement, Henrietta asked.

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    "Did you really promise him that he could ride me?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make it sound wrong, Henrietta,¡± said Bartlett.

    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s Thomas. I¡¯m fine with that.¡±

    "No, I mean...oh, nevermind."

    Bartlett sometimes forgot that she was a human princess, sheltered from the lowbrow humor of commoners.

    "Let''s talk about something else," said Bartlett. "You said you''re the only one who escaped the attack that killed your whole family because you turned into a dragon. You never said anything about a surviving relative."

    "I''m sorry for omitting this fact from you, but I don''t know if that''s true or not. The last time I saw him was when I personally put him on a boat and pushed him away. I want to believe that he''s alive. I really do. Part of me thought it was the last mistake I ever did, but thankfully, that wasn''t the case."

    "Why don''t you join him back then?"

    "I was the one who''s supposed to die that night." Henrietta clutched her stomach, cringing. "My stomach was cut open and I lost too much blood. Someone who came with me that night told me that I died. My memory was a bit of a blur, but when I came to, I was already at the other side of the lake, already transformed."

    "So, you ended up drifting away from the castle, after all."

    Henrietta sighed. "Thomas must''ve drifted somewhere else. I wished I know where he was, tell him that his sister is still alive. But I lost him."

    "And now, you''re reunited."

    "Only I''m not ready to reveal myself just yet. You hiring him only complicates matter, not to mention taking him to such a dangerous quest. Damn it. I wanted to tell him I''m alive, but...argh, why is this so frustrating?!"

    "I know how you feel, princess, but...."

    "I know what you''re trying to say. I can''t reveal who I am. Can''t you see how bad that makes me feel? He''s going to ride on my back, and I can''t talk to him? At all?"

    "Henrietta, calm down," insisted Bartlett. "Yes, I understand your frustration. Yes, I know this situation is unusual. But please, just stop and think about it. You said it yourself earlier. What if you reveal yourself, and it made it worse? Have you accounted for his companion?"

    "His companion?"

    "Thomas would be elated, but Rory would react like a normal person would. You would be hunted by curious Clydethian researchers and I doubt this new life of yours is going to last. There is a limit to my own ability to help you."

    "Isn''t that a bit too far-fetched of a thought?"

    "But not impossible. So, don''t reveal yourself until you know Thomas could handle it with a simple ''I''m your sister''. If you spend too much time trying to convince him, you risk exposing yourself further. Not everyone can accept such information on the get-go, princess."

    "There is a chance he might just accept it with a shrug."

    "Only that''s what it is: a chance. So, don''t bet on it. Two years are long enough time for a person to move on. Just look at him. Does he look like a prince on the run? He''s happy living his new life as Thomas Alonquin. His friend must''ve straightened him up and told him to move on.

    Henrietta looked at Bartlett, contemplating on his words. As they stared with each other for a while, Henrietta sighed.

    ¡°I hate it when you made a good point," she said. "You know, I really started to think how better it is to just hire someone else and let Thomas be on his way. Regardless of my feelings right now, we are exposing him to unnecessary danger.¡±

    "He''s the only choice we got."

    "Right.... Oh, god. It''s going to be so awkward tomorrow."

    "It is." Bartlett then resumed building his tent while Henrietta wondered about what she should do while Thomas was riding on her back. The more she thought about it, the worse it made her feel.

    Thankfully, Bartlett understood her situation, and diverted her thoughts from it.

    ¡°Actually, I have been wondering, princess,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°Why do you have pinkish grey scales? I can understand why that man was rather disappointed in me, thinking I painted your scales. I couldn''t give him a good answer, though."

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure,¡± said Henrietta while looking at her scales. ¡°But now that you point it out, it does have a familiar color.¡±

    ¡°Familiar?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­like a dress, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°It does remind me of a dress. Did you wear a dress before you transform?¡±

    ¡°I, uh¡­I think I did. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Just what?¡±

    "I don''t want to remember much about it," said Henrietta. "I can''t afford to remember any details from that day. I don''t want to. Remembering what dress I wore before I turned into a dragon was the last thing I had in mind. Let''s just say this is my favorite color and just leave it at that, hmm?"

    Bartlett understood what she was implying. He simply shrugged and said, "I won''t pry further."

    Henrietta lowered her head and growled. Bartlett could only imagine what she went through before her transformation, especially if she was willing to kill the men hunting her so brutally. To her, it must have felt like a well-deserved revenge, and Bartlett could not blame her.

    Whatever happened in her past was justified from the excessive way she dispatched her pursuers. For Bartlett, who barely even knew her back then, it was appalling. For Henrietta, it could be a catharsis she needed.

    As they prepared to rest, they did not realize that they were being watched by someone in the shadows. He was wearing a cloak with a hood that covered his head, obscuring most of his features. He had been watching the two in the shadows for a while, and he caught the supposedly secret conversation between the rider and his dragon. He wasn¡¯t fazed by this fact. He was, in fact, amused.

    ¡°So, she survived a turned into a dragon,¡± thought the spy as he disappeared into the shadows. ¡°Interesting. I never thought they were right. Perhaps they were right. But I''ll defer my opinion until something happens."

    The cloaked spy continued his trek through the nearby forest, while the unaware Henrietta and Bartlett continued their conversation through the night while deliberately avoiding to mention anything about Henrietta''s past and Thomas.

 Chapter 15

    <div>

    As they both feared, the whole situation just got a whole lot more awkward than they expected it to be.

    Rory and Thomas were already waiting in the guild when Bartlett met them, with Henrietta waiting outside. They exchanged words and planned their job, where they discussed the cockatrice¡¯s nest and what they should do to force it out into the open. Everyone were made aware of their disadvantages against a venomous monster in a cave, along with complications of relying on a dragon''s fire.

    "The venom cockatrices spew is both corrosive and noxious," explained Bartlett. "A cave with bad ventilation will end up becoming our graves."

    "Dragon fire is also not an option," said Rory. "It can end up trapping us inside the cave, and the cockatrice will make short work out of us."

    Bartlett nodded, not wanting to tell them that Henrietta''s fire was sealed.

    "Our only option is to lure it out in the open," continued Rory.

    "What do you have in mind?" asked Bartlett.

    "I can lure it out with these."

    Rory brought out some spherical objects from his satchel. One quick glance was enough for Bartlett to tell that they were bombs, complete with a fuse.

    "The man selling it called these ''screamer bombs''," said Rory. "They can create high-pitched noises akin to screams that would drive the cockatrice away from its nest. As a bonus, I also bought some flash bombs, which hopefully could give us an edge. It¡¯s better to fight it outside than risking ambush inside the caves, which no doubt would be its nesting grounds. You do not want to deal with a bird''s nesting grounds, especially one that can spew out corrosive venoms."

    Then Thomas chimed in.

    ¡°How about the eggs?¡± asked Thomas. "I don''t like to say it, but we can''t just leave the eggs. We have to...uh...."

    "I''ll do it if you can''t," said Rory, understanding Thomas''s reluctance. "While there''s zero chance for those eggs to be fertilized, we can''t be too careful."

    ¡°I don''t need the eggs,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°All I need is its head, specifically its venom sac. And the gold as a bonus.¡±

    ¡°Or, since you mention gold, we can sell the eggs to the researchers,¡± said Rory. "Pristine, unfertilized monster eggs are always on demand."

    ¡°That¡¯s your business, not mine. If the mage researchers wanted to deal with unruly, venomous chicks, then you can indulge them. You can keep the gold too.¡±

    Rory turned his gaze towards Bartlett, wondering about his decision. In the end, he decided not to ask.

    ¡°Let''s consider it when we finish the job. Anyone else have a question?"

    Thomas shook his head, while Bartlett just shrug.

    ¡°Well, then," declared Rory. "If everyone is ready, let¡¯s go.¡±

    They all nodded to each other and walked out of the guild hall. Kouri bid them good luck as they walked past him, though he was worried when he looked at Thomas. The young mage was clearly excited to be acquainted with a dragon rider. A little too excited, perhaps. Sure, there weren¡¯t any Clydethian dragon rider around and Kouri doubted that he wanted to cross the borders to Manarithia just to ride one. But still¡­.

    ¡°I hope that human is going to be alright,¡± thought the lion man.

    <hr>

    Thomas kept his gaze towards Bartlett and his dragon, awed by their presence. He had followed the exploits of the dragon riders of Manarithia, but to not just met one, but also a dragon with such an unusual, regal color? He would not be able to contain his excitement if it wasn''t for their current quest.

    This display of awe caught Rory''s attention. Of all the people in that group, only he knew the extent of Thomas''s fascination towards dragons. He wanted to call it an unhealthy obsession, though he had a feeling Thomas would disagree.

    That did not mean he couldn''t tease him about it.

    "I told you not to get too excited," he whispered to his friend. "You don''t want them to consider you a creep, do you?"

    "M-me?!" stammered Thomas. "Of course not! Do I look like I''m stalking them? We''re part of their party, for god''s sake!"

    Rory gave him a smug smile, irritating Thomas. The young blonde mage was aware of what his friend was implying, and Rory always loved to tease him, as mean as it sounded.

    Thomas had always been fascinated with dragons and their riders. Dragons were known to be proud creatures, but also with a degree of intelligence and even respect, which made them more than mere animals. He once read something about dragons choosing their riders instead of the other way around, hence their status as great warriors and their rarity. Dragons would only willingly let a person ride on their back after they had proved their merits. Not anyone could do so; Thomas read many incidents where riders who were rejected by their dragons suffered greatly. He heard about dragon riders who lost their minds, cursed by their dragons. It sounded improbable, but it did make a good moral lesson.

    Because of this, he could not contain his excitement when a dragon rider from Manarithia came to visit Sondheimer, of all places. They rarely went to Clydeth, and even if they did, it was not to a small town like Sondheimer. He soon surmised that Bartlett and the dragon were not with the Manarithian military, evident by the fact that they were looking for quests instead of attending to official dragon rider matters.

    And they were far more intriguing in person, not to mention his dragon''s appearance. Her pinkish gray scales were natural in color, which was complemented by her bright, blue eyes. She also looked unusual for a dragon, given her mammalian-like ears, her mane color, and her unusual horn shape. Her mane was blonde, almost the same color as Thomas''s. Her horns looked vaguely like corals. She had leathery wings, but they were translucent silver in color.

    It would make more sense if he was one of the dragons that hailed from the faraway Hoki empire, but from what Thomas had read about Hokinese dragons, they were massive, and their body were serpentine. Also, they would not breathe fire, as their domains were either the sea or the sky.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Thus, the more he looked at him, the more intrigued with her. She clearly was an aberration of many draconic features. Could she be a new, previously undiscovered breed? Or perhaps she was similar to the black-scaled Hokinese dragon with similar features (minus the mane)?

    The dragon''s blue eyes turned to him, causing him to gasp in surprise and quickly turn away. She let out a deep growl, which Thomas assumed was her dissatisfaction of being stared at.

    "You''re not a creep, Thomas," he reminded himself under his breath. "You''re starting to act like one."

    Nearby, Bartlett wondered about Thomas''s capability. To break the silence, he started asking the young mage.

    ¡°So, what kind of spells do you know?¡± asked the man. ¡°You said you know how to cast a barrier, but which kind?¡±

    ¡°Oh!" said Thomas, surprised. "Uh...the magick armor kind. And the area-based ones. But my stocks are pretty weak compared to the more solid constructs."

    "Can you cast it any time you want? Does it need long incantation before you can cast it?"

    "Uh...we don''t incantate," said Thomas. "Clydethians don''t do that, Mr. Evans."

    "What do you mean? And Bartlett''s fine, Thomas."

    ¡°Show him something,¡± said Rory. ¡°Don''t pull from your stocks. Show him something small. What''s it called? Cantrips?"

    Thomas nodded. As soon as they stopped near a clearing, he snapped his fingers. A fire came out from the snap like a spark. Soon, Thomas, with his nimble fingers, manipulated the fire spell among his fingers before pointing towards a nearby tree with both his index and middle finger outstretched, a gesture of someone finger-shooting. The fire then shot out of his finger with blinding speed before, a moment later, it hit the tree, creating a rather prominent hole.

    Henrietta was astonished. The last time she saw Thomas cast fire, it was nothing more than a candlelight. He looked so confident doing it when she turned her head to look at her brother. She was impressed. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t express it with words.

    ¡°You can just conjure up flames like that?" asked Bartlett. "No incantations at all?"

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to,¡± explained Thomas. ¡°Clydethian magickal system does not rely on the power of words. We usually prepared the spells when it is safe to do so. The knowledge of those spells are inside my head, so all I need to do is concentrate really hard to a spellbook, and the spell will manifest as pages, complete with the magick formulae necessary to cast the spell.¡±

    ¡°What he means is, Clydethians don¡¯t chant spells in the middle of battle,¡± added Rory. ¡°The Clydethians call it ''snap-casting'', as you cast your spells like a finger snap. Fast, simple, and versatile."

    "And cantrips?"

    "Minor spells," explained Thomas. "Harmless on its own, but pair it with something...."

    Thomas mimed an explosion.

    "Also, since you mentioned incantation," continued Thomas. "Both Manarithia and Wyrith follow the same school of thoughts regarding spellcasting. Speaking the incantation can create bigger, more powerful spells, with better focus, than just snap-casting. I started that way at first since...well...."

    Thomas''s expression darkened. He was reluctant to say it, aware of the current situation. Bartlett immediately caught on his reluctance.

    "You''re a Wyrithian, aren''t you? I can tell from your accent," said Bartlett. "Look. I won''t judge. The war between our kingdoms have nothing to do with me. You clearly don''t support them if you''re so eager with joining a dragon rider."

    "He''s right, you know," said Rory. "Let bygones be bygones, Tom. That kingdom doesn''t owe you anything."

    Thomas simply shook his head. His expression slightly lightened.

    Bartlett also knew why he claimed to be a Clydethian. Henrietta''s story told him what he should know about Thomas and his real identity. For now, though, it was better for him to pretend not to know and changed the topic.

    "I couldn''t care less about the war," said Bartlett. "It''s nothing but entitled royalists being offended by something so minor."

    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Rory. ¡°Like I said, Tom. Thinking too much about it will only give you a headache. I don''t understand what they were thinking, going to a war for something as juvenile as that.¡±

    "It''s a war born out of lies," said Thomas, his tone deepened. Bartlett and Henrietta both noticed how he lost any semblance of kindness in his eyes. It was replaced with fury.

    "What did I say about thinking too much about it?" said Rory with a sigh. "Just let it go, Thomas."

    Thomas''s expression softened. He sighed.

    ¡°You''re right," said Thomas sadly. "It''s all in the past now. There''s no other way but forward."

    Henrietta exchanged a silent look to Bartlett, who gave her a sympathizing look. It hurt her, knowing that her brother was so close to her, yet she couldn¡¯t say anything to comfort him.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± sympathized Bartlett. His words were meant for both Thomas and Henrietta.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t be,¡± said Thomas. "I admit, I would do something stupid back then. I wasn''t...exactly on the right mind. But I was reminded of her words. I have to honor her, and to be live as a good man. I am going to honor that wish, one way or another."

    Henrietta was touched upon hearing that. To her, that advice she gave him was made when she believed she would die. She was glad Thomas took that advice to heart.

    ¡°So, how did you meet Rory?¡± asked Bartlett, trying to change the topic.

    "I...was on a boat," said Thomas, with hesitation apparent in his voice. "My, uh...my home...." He trailed off, unable so anything else. He glanced at Rory.

    "His mansion was raided by bandits," said Rory. "He told me his sister put him on a boat. Isn''t that right, Tom?"

    "Y-yes. It is," said Thomas.

    Both Bartlett and Henrietta knew that it was a lie. Whether it was Rory''s or Thomas''s invention, it was hard to tell, though Henrietta believed that it was Rory''s idea.

    "I was fishing at the lakeside when his boat drifted to where I was," started Rory. "I immediately realized something''s wrong upon noticing the white boat covered in bloodied handprint. I looked in and I saw him in his blood-soaked clothes. I could immediately tell, from his thousand-yard stare, that he was traumatized. His tears were already dried by the time his boat reached me. I saw survivors who act like that, so I know he''s not faking it.

    "I took him in. Help him recover. It was a rough patch, let me tell you what. But, in the end, he came through. He told me his story and what he wanted to do to honor his late sister. He wanted to be stronger, so that he could live his life as a stronger man."

    "By stronger you mean, be an adventurer?" asked Bartlett.

    ¡°I taught him how to fight,¡± said Rory. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a pretty sight, let me tell you. God, you could hardly lift anything with those weak, nobleborn arms of yours back then. And your naivete¡­you still have a long way to go on that front."

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t blame me. I had a rather doting sister and the youngest in the family. Everyone is so concerned with my health, especially Henri. I know she''s not the kind of girl who plays with dolls, but I have a feeling she thought of me as her doll."

    Henrietta, the subject of the conversation, felt a metaphorical sword stabbed her through her chest. His words were biting and on the point. She never thought he considered her affections like that.

    "But I won''t lie," said Thomas. "Those last moments of us together...I''m grateful to know that despite her headstrong, brawny personality, she still had the comforting tenderness of a woman I respected. I wish I can thank her. Alas...."

    Bartlett glanced at Henrietta, silently nodding at her while smirking. She, too, smirked. While it was hard enough not being able to tell him who she really was, this was still a good compromise.

    ¡°We better focus on the cockatrice instead of discussing family history,¡± said Rory. ¡°There¡¯s a time and place for that.¡±

    Everyone agreed. It was clear Thomas did not want to talk about the event any more than Henrietta was. She silently appreciated Rory for protecting Thomas. That cover story sounded as if it was his idea instead of Thomas, for Henrietta knew Thomas couldn''t lie, or concoct a story on a fly like that. There was no way Rory wouldn''t recognize him as a prince; the castle was very identifiable. Even a fisherman would know that it belonged to someone important, or at the very least, recognized it as belonging to a governor, or even more. The fact that he called Thomas a ''Nobleborn'' was the proof of this knowledge.

    Bartlett, who knew the story as told from Henrietta''s point of view, silently acknowledged Rory''s awareness of Thomas''s identity. In fact, he was even more grateful by the fact that Rory did not make use of this knowledge to exploit Thomas in any way. Despite his blunt personality, he was a good man, and Bartlett could appreciate that.

    He only hope that one day, Henrietta and Thomas would be reunited properly. Only time could tell.

 Chapter 16

    <div>

    The forest where the cockatrice hid in was guarded by a rotating posting of guards that were already informed by Kouri that ''a party of three and a dragon¡¯ would arrive. He gave them the names and the pictures of each, including the general description of the dragon that came with them, through spatial means. The letter that described them reached one of the guards via the ever-handy Clydethian mail service earlier that day, which appeared out of nowhere. The guards, being Clydethians, were unfazed by it. They knew who sent the letter from the Adventurer''s Guild seal.

    Thus, when the party arrived, the guards were already informed. One glance was enough to identify them.

    ¡°So, it¡¯s Bartlett Evans, Thomas Alonquin, and Rory Tellian, I presume?¡± asked the guard. ¡°Along with, uh¡­Princess?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s her,¡± said Bartlett, glancing at Henrietta. ¡°We¡¯re coming through.¡±

    "I hope you know what you''re doing," said the guard.

    "Yes, we do."

    As the guards opened the barrier, Bartlett turned to Thomas and said, ¡°Stay out of danger and keep your spells ready. Stick to the plan.¡±

    Thomas nodded, understanding his role. The last thing a party needed was having their mage taken out first, as Rory had taught him. He also should learn to trust his party members if he wanted to ensure that the whole mission was a success.

    The quartet soon found an opening to the cave where Bartlett promptly kneeled and checked the print on the ground. He silently examined the area and found several clues as to what he was dealing with.

    ¡°Corroded rocks and talon marks,¡± he said, both to himself and to those who listened. He sniffed the air, his face visibly scrunched upon the smell entering his nose.

    ¡°Ugh. That''s strong," commented Bartlett.

    ¡°What¡¯s that smell?¡± asked Thomas, sniffing the air. ¡°Vinegar?¡±

    ¡°Strong acid,¡± corrected Bartlett. ¡°Don¡¯t breathe it in if you want to keep your lungs healthy."

    Thomas did not question that fact. He immediately covered his nose.

    "This is its nest, alright. Rory?"

    Rory reached into his bag and rummaged through it. He produced a set of differently-shaped bombs.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s set,¡± said Rory. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± stopped Bartlett. ¡°There is something that I need to ask you about."

    "What?" said Rory.

    "I know you fight with punches and kicks," inquired Bartlett. "But how are you going to protect your limbs? That smell alone should tell you that unarmed combat is disadvantageous."

    Rory glanced at his fists, showing Bartlett the gauntlet he was wearing.

    "I know what I''m doing," remarked Rory.

    "Those gauntlets won''t protect you for long."

    "And I am not planning to lose my fists any time soon. Don''t argue and get this over with, Evans. We''ll lose the chicken if we spend time arguing. I know what I''m doing, so just leave it at that."

    While Bartlett was reluctant to agree, he had no choice but to stick to the plan, hoping that Rory did know what he was doing. He signaled the others to prepare themselves before taking position. Thomas, as planned, stayed close to Henrietta with spellbook ready and open to the page containing the barrier spell. He casted a spell on Rory, protecting him further with magick armor.

    With the flash grenade in hand, Rory slowly walked into the cave. The sharp smell of vinegar filled Rory¡¯s nostrils, causing him to reel and covered his nose. It felt like he entered a vinegar production plant, but much, much worse.

    ¡°Damn,¡± commented Rory. ¡°That chicken packs some nasty punch.¡±

    Soon, he heard a noise that sounded like a chicken clucking but mixed with something akin to a growl or a hiss. The cockatrice was close. He needed to find the monster and threw the flash grenade right in front of its eyes, or at least close enough to cause it to panic. It was risky, knowing that there was a chance that the cockatrice already had his scent and was prepared to anticipate him.

    He hated himself for being right at that moment.

    Before Rory could react, the cockatrice was already onto him. The cave¡¯s darkness and the acidic smell messed with Rory¡¯s perception. The chicken-lizard chimera let out a shriek as Rory yelped in surprise, though he recomposed himself immediately and turned towards where the sound came from. He immediately lighted the fuse on the flash grenade and threw it towards the voice¡¯s source. He promptly looked away.

    The bomb let out a disorienting flash of light. As expected, the cockatrice panicked, letting out a rather disturbing mix of chicken noises and a roar. The discordant nature of it made Rory and, by extension, the others waiting outside, to be momentarily disturbed by the shrill roar.

    It ran past Rory, missing him by inches. He managed to sense the cockatrice¡¯s talons and dodged it just before it could reach him. Thomas''s armor was strong, but it would inevitably fail with such a force. Thomas was not an experienced enough mage to cast something strong enough to repel a cockatrice''s talons.

    ¡°Hey, pinky!¡± exclaimed Rory. ¡°I know you can understand me! The chicken is loose!¡±

    Henrietta who, as planned, stood near the nest¡¯s opening, did not appreciate Rory calling her ¡®pinky¡¯, being self-conscious of it. Nevertheless, she understood the situation when she heard the noise of the cockatrice, moments before its monstrous chicken-like head appeared from within the shadows and running right at her. She immediately opened her foreleg claws and grabbed the rushing cockatrice. Her claws dug deep into the cockatrice, causing it to hiss in pain.

    It did not stop. Immediately, the cockatrice opened its wings, which were a pair of leathery membranes much like Henrietta¡¯s, only it was covered with sparse feathers. It tried to fly away by vigorously beating its wings, but Henrietta kept her grip strong. In the heat of the moment, she even tried to pin the cockatrice down by biting into its nape like a lion subduing its prey.

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    She soon realized her mistake. As soon as her fangs dug deep into the cockatrice¡¯s nape, she immediately pulled out and roared in pain as the inside of her maws burned by the cockatrice''s acidic blood. It felt like she downed a boiling water. Her claws dug through the cockatrice''s weak scales, which soaked her claws with acidic blood. It was potent enough to penetrate her scales, causing immense pain. The pain caused her to lose her grip onto the cockatrice, where it immediately turned its attention towards the rest of the group.

    Thomas reacted quickly. He immediately teared out a page from his spellbook, immediately casting a barrier right in front of him just as the cockatrice spat out some of its acidic venoms. The barrier stop the venoms before it could reach Thomas. Bartlett, his sword and shield ready, rushed towards the cockatrice and proceeded to slash it. Bartlett became aware with his sword losing its durability rapidly upon contact with the acidic blood. He silently cursed himself for not buying a new sword specifically enchanted to counter acids. But there was no point regretting what already happened.

    Bartlett rushed towards the other side. The cockatrice turned its attention to him after recovering from his attack. It attacked him with a peck, forcing Bartlett to raise his round shield and protect himself. If it wasn''t for Thomas''s earlier enchantment, the shield would break.

    Henrietta recovered from her pain and immediately resumed her grapple with the cockatrice. It fought back, its talons almost plucking out Henrietta''s eye as it clawed the air right in front of the pink-scaled dragon. She could not look away, knowing that when she did, she would lose concentration.

    Henrietta kept her grip but couldn¡¯t hold out for much longer with the searing pain in her maws and her claws. Rory came to her rescue by dashing out of the cave, fists glowing bright orange. To Bartlett''s astonishment, he punched the cockatrice square in its side, causing it to caw in pain. The force of the attack threw the cockatrice off its footing and towards a nearby tree. This gave Henrietta the change to wrestle it to the ground.

    "H-how did you...?" asked an astonished Bartlett.

    "I told you I know what I''m doing," replied Rory with a smirk. It was soon wiped off his face when he became alarmed by Thomas.

    "Thomas, reposition!" cried Rory. "What are you doing, man?!"

    Thomas was confused by Rory¡¯s command until he noticed how uncomfortably close he was to the cockatrice, who could easily recover and attack him. He hastily increased his distance.

    Rory prepared another strike, but the cockatrice recovered first and started attacking Rory with its beak. Bartlett acted quickly. He bashed the cockatrice''s head with his shield, with Rory initiating a follow-up attack with a roundhouse kick. Both attacks stunned the cockatrice, once again being grappled by Henrietta.

    Bartlett turned to Henrietta, who was grunting as she tried to dull the pain from the corrosive blood. The inside of her maws burned so badly. Her body was bruised from the cockatrice¡¯s thrashing. Yet, instead of being discouraged, she was angry. The cockatrice was going to pay for hurting her so badly.

    She would taunt the cockatrice if it wasn¡¯t for Bartlett, sensing that she was going to blow her cover, to act quickly. He immediately remembered the bombs Rory brought and said, ¡°Rory, use your flash. Come on, we haven¡¯t got much time!¡±

    Rory immediately rummaged through his bag, but the cockatrice recovered first. It let out peculiar noises. Moments later, it spit out a corrosive ball of venom, one that Bartlett managed to intercept before it hit Rory. His shield started to corrode due to Thomas''s enchantment already spent, and parts of the venom reached his arms, threatening to corrode through his leather bracers until he quickly removed it. Defenseless, he couldn¡¯t do anything when the cockatrice shot more venom balls.

    The venom hit both Rory and Bartlett, but the effect were minimized by a transparent barrier forming around them like a dome. Thomas came in with a clutch, and both Rory and Bartlett appreciated it.

    From a safe distance, Thomas used up two stocked barrier spell to strengthen one by layering it. He noticed how one layer was not enough to stop the venom from corroding the barrier. The cockatrice realized its attacks were failing, so it let out a frustrated caw-shriek and started pecking at the barrier. The force of the attack surprised Thomas, but he kept his concentration, knowing that if he supplied the barrier with his own magick, it would last long enough for Bartlett and Rory to escape and retaliate.

    "You go left, I go right!" commanded Bartlett. "I''ll lob its head off!"

    But before they could start acting on the command, Henrietta was already rushing towards the cockatrice and threw her whole weight onto the monster. Considering her lithe physique that was built more for agility than strength, her pouncing the similarly built cockatrice took everything she had. She kept the chimera pinned down, this time not minding the injuries inflicted by its desperate attempt to break free.

    The cockatrice slashed her several times, but Henrietta did not falter. Her claws crept up, towards the cockatrice''s throat. She began throttling the cockatrice, slamming its head several times, stunning it while slowly killing it as its skull was bashed onto the rocky ground.

    The others were stunned by the violence, especially Thomas. Thomas was expecting the dragon to burn the cockatrice''s head with its flame. Instead, she kept bashing its head to a nearby rock. It wasn''t enough to kill the cockatrice, which kept clawing at Henrietta''s soft scales.

    "Thomas, protect her head!" exclaimed Bartlett. "That cockatrice''s going to spit out its venom!"

    He snapped back to reality and immediately snap-casted a barrier that prevented the cockatrice''s venom from harming the dragon. Rory egged the dragon on.

    "Kill it now, dragon! Twist its neck!"

    Henrietta let out a wrathful roar as she did what Rory commanded her to do. Bracing herself, Henrietta bit the now stunned cockatrice and proceeded to twist her head.

    Crack.

    The horrible sound was so audible it caused everyone to wince in pain as the cockatrice stopped struggling and went limp. Henrietta also heard the loud snap, followed by a feeling of softness around her maws, which snapped her out of her rage. She saw the cockatrice¡¯s eyes dilated and its beak opened. She immediately removed her maws and checked the cockatrice.

    The cockatrice was dead, maimed by the dragon bashing the chimera''s skull and her neck-snapping bite. It looked as if it was mauled by a beast.

    Though in this case, the beast was Henrietta herself.

    She would feel glad to have finally killed the monster until she saw Thomas¡¯s expression. It was the face of a man who couldn¡¯t believe what he saw. The horrified expression, and him trying his best not to throw up, caused Henrietta to realize that she went too far. Nobody expected a dragon to bash a cockatrice''s head so violently like she did.

    ¡°Thomas¡­,¡± she whispered out of reflex. She realized her mistake, as did Bartlett.

    He immediately took control of the situation by loudly saying, "Good job, Princess! You slayed the cockatrice!"

    ¡°Remind me not to piss off your dragon,¡± said Rory. ¡°I wouldn''t want to suffer that chicken''s fate.¡±

    "She can do worse than that."

    This sent chills down both Rory''s and Thomas''s spines. Thomas was ready to throw up after witnessing the intense, bestial fight between dragon and cockatrice. Rory, noticing this, approached his friend.

    ¡°It''s already over, Tom. She''s not going to bash your skull in,¡± said Rory, before he turn his gaze to the dragon, staring at her cautiously. ¡°Hopefully.¡±

    ¡°But I...that was...."

    ¡°I know. While I doubt that''s how dragons dispatch their prey, I''m sorry you have to see such a thing. Should''ve just burn that poor creature and be done with it, but I suppose the dragon''s enjoying it."

    Rory was loud enough for Henrietta to hear his remark on what she just did. It disgusted her even more. She looked away when Rory''s gaze caught her own gaze.

    Thomas gulped, then recomposed himself.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Thomas. ¡°Let¡¯s finish what we need to do.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I am sure.¡± Thomas forced a smile. ¡°Carry on.¡±

    Rory looked at him worryingly but decided that he needed to learn the reality of his obsession.

    ¡°Then would you care to give Bartlett¡¯s sword some protection against the corrosion?¡±

    Thomas did not hesitate to do so. As the two men proceeded to cut the cockatrice¡¯s head, Thomas stared at the dragon, who unknowingly was his sister. Henrietta noticed him staring and, with a sad expression, looked away, avoiding his eyes. She felt shame upon realizing how far she had fallen. Perhaps her two years in the wild had slowly made her forgotten what it was to be human.

    Perhaps she was turning into a beast.

 Chapter 17

    With the cockatrice¡¯s menace gone, Bartlett and his party were given the rewards they were promised for, along with the gratitude of the people of Sondheimer. He tried to be humble, even letting Rory and Thomas getting all the glory. To his surprise, Rory acknowledged Bartlett and Henrietta¡¯s role, despite his promise that Rory and Thomas would take all the glory. He did not sound that reluctant, either.

    Wondering about this change of attitude, after the crowd dispersed, Bartlett approached Rory, intending to ask him about it.

    "What changed your mind?" asked Bartlett. "I thought you need the recognition to start your adventuring career."

    "It''s a team effort. I''m not one to hog all the efforts to myself. Sure, it could''ve gone better. But we''re still alive and still intact, so I consider it a success."

    "I guess so," said Bartlett.

    "There is still something I need to ask of you, though I understand that your mission comes first." Rory pointed at the cockatrice head he carried. "I can refer you to a butcher who knows his stuff around monsters. He would be the man you need."

    "I...appreciate it, Rory," said Bartlett.

    Rory pointed him towards a human butcher he referred to. Once Bartlett asked him about the thing he needed, the butcher let out a grunt and asked for the head. He examined it.

    "You''re lucky your dragon did not burst the sac," he said while sharpening his tools. "It could''ve easily chomp through it. Good thing the sac is covered in a membrane thick enough to protect it. Also, I''m surprised you know where it is. You cut its head below where the sac is."

    Bartlett turned to Rory, who simply shrugged.

    "I learned some chimera anatomy," he said.

    The butcher simply grunted, acknowledging Rory''s admission.

    The butcher then moved the head to a metallic table. Bartlett noticed a dwarven rune carved into it, though he did not understand what it meant. The butcher then began to cut through the cockatrice''s head, though the details of the gruesome job was obscured by his big, burly body.

    "But still," started Rory while waiting for the butcher to finish his work. "Why do you need a venom sac for? Sure, you said it''s for a friend''s project, but what kind of project?"

    "I don''t really know much about it myself," said Bartlett, pretending not to know. "But it''s complicated."

    "It will be if the butcher realized that you happened to supply a dark mage with ingredients," commented Rory, causing Bartlett to tense up. This did not escape Rory''s attention.

    "You think I wouldn''t know? My friend''s a mage," continued Rory. "He may not specialize in it, but he learned about alchemical ingredients enough to know their significance. When we were out of earshot he told me that venom sacs are usually used in preparation for a curse, not a potion. For potions, you simply need the venoms from venomous snakes, not a cockatrice. Are you sure you''re not being duped by your friend?"

    Bartlett did not immediately answer. He did not really want to say anything more so as to not cause Rory to suspect anything of Henrietta''s true identity. But as he feared, Rory was not as oblivious as he thought.

    "If you don''t want to say anything, then I''ll say it for you," said Rory. "It has something to do with Princess''s collar, isn''t it?"

    Bartlett''s eyes widened.

    "Your face''s telling me I''m right," said Rory. "Come on, Evans. Did you think I wouldn''t notice a black, metallic band around your dragon''s neck that''s cutting through her scales? I know you''re not the kind of guy who''d put such a constricting collar on her, so the only other explanation is that it''s a cursed object. Your friend claimed to know something about it, and sent you on a dangerous mission. Tell me if I''m wrong."

    Rory ousted him. There was no point for Bartlett to hide it.

    "Guess I can''t hide that fact forever," said Bartlett with a sigh. "You''re right. It''s a cursed object. I asked a blacksmith friend of mine on whether he can break it, but he can''t, not without using a dark magick to counter the protection. The only way it can be broken is by using a different kind of dark magick."

    "Yeah, I figured as much," Rory said with a sigh. "Look, man. I appreciate you looking out for your dragon, but you gotta be more open about it if you really want some help. Those afflicted by curses are not immediately society''s rejects. You wouldn''t turn away victims, now, would you?"

    Bartlett scoffed. "You''d be surprised how hollow those words are."

    "Oh, cut that cynical crap. I don''t care if people see me as a monster for helping a fellow monster. It''s their fear and their pride talking to them, which is not you. Just be prepared to defend yourself when they decided that violence is the answer."

    Bartlett nodded. Someone he once knew said something similar to him. That advice turned and bite them in the ass, causing the break in their relationship. Thankfully, the circumstances were different, except now, Bartlett was left changed from that experience.

    "Thanks for the pep talk," said Bartlett. "Don''t worry about me. I''ll pay for the service."

    "Not so fast," said Rory. "I have a proposal to make."

    "What are you proposing?"

    "Something I''m still rather reluctant to do."

    It did not take long for Bartlett to figure out what the man meant.

    "You want us to form a party?" wondered a surprised Bartlett.

    "I figured you need some help when it comes to magick. I can help you with a lot more things other than being the fisticuffs guy. I can be your judge of character. Before you say anything, the fact that I already figured out you''re lying said a lot of my merits."

    "How can I know you''re not lying to me yourself?" rebuked Bartlett.

    "I won''t," insisted Rory. "Sharing that glory you prefer not to take is one proof of that. Our experience with the cockatrice also told me that it is a dangerous world, and if it''s just the two of us, we would not be able to survive that long. We''re not blessed with godly skills or godly luck. This is the best way to go if we hope to survive this harsh world. So, what do you say, Evans?"

    "Hmmm...."

    Bartlett pondered about the merits. While it was true that Rory and Thomas proved to be very valuable, there was a reason why Bartlett preferred this to be a one-time deal. Traveling with a party risked exposing Henrietta''s secret. The fact that Thomas was the dragon''s brother also made this situation complicated.

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    As the two were coming up on a decision, Thomas had just finished preparing his spells. The adventuring guild hall provided a service for Clydethian mages to shorten the time to prepare spells for a small amount of coins, which he took. His experience in his first true adventure as an adventurer made him realize that he should change up his spell composition. His spells were mostly barriers and armors. He should stock some spells that he could use to defend himself. This decision was born out of his realization that he would be vulnerable if the others could not warn him of impending danger. His important support role also necessitated his survival, hence this thought process.

    And then there was the dragon. Seeing her in action was a moment of realization for Thomas. Despite their intellect and majestic appearance, they were still beasts underneath it all. If beast people required hundreds of years to temper their animalistic urges before they could live among other races, then dragons were the same.

    "In the end, it was me who''s romanticizing them too much," thought Thomas. "Not that it changes my opinions on them. It''s just...well, it opened my eyes a bit."

    He pondered about it as he went to Bartlett''s camp, where the dragon chose to stay after the recent ordeal despite the acid burns she suffered. He had no knowledge of healing spells, but he bought some salves with similar properties, which were hopefully enough to treat the dragon''s wounds. As he walked outside, he noticed the dragon laying on her belly, looking sad. Some of her scales, specifically those damaged by the acid spray, made her look battered, yet they were not serious. The serious one, however, was the part that was still bleeding: her maws and the gash that missed her right eye.

    Thomas wondered if it was possible for a dragon to be injured like that; he read somewhere that a dragon''s scale was tough and resistant to magick. Of course, it did not say anything about acid resistance, though acid spells existed, so it could have been categorized as part of that resistance. Instead, her scales were smooth and hardly visible at all. Where the hard ridges were supposed to be was replaced by a blonde mane. She looked so soft and vulnerable, almost like a princess in a dress.

    It somehow reminded him of someone he knew, though he immediately dismissed that notion.

    He approached her slowly, knowing that her injured face conjured up the terrifying visage of a dragon that was throttling a cockatrice and break its neck so audibly it disturbed Thomas terribly. Even now, it was hard not to imagine her glaring eyes and her beastly roar.

    But he steeled himself, deciding not to think about it and focus on what he wanted to do.

    "Uhmm...Princess?" said Thomas, after mustering enough courage to call her. She looked towards him.

    "I...got some salve," said Thomas sheepishly. "The shop owner said it can treat burns, regardless of the creature. I told him it was for a dragon. He didn''t laugh."

    Thomas chuckled. "Well, we won''t know until we apply it. You don''t mind, do you?"

    The dragon simply growled and let Thomas approach her. He was a little wary at first, but as he stared at the dragon''s bright blue eyes, he started to feel calmer. Despite what he saw, the dragon was docile and was willing to let him treat her injuries.

    He started applying the salve on the dragon''s exposed flesh. True to what the shop owner claimed, the healing spell kept in the salve started mending the exposed flesh and stop the bleeding, though unfortunately, it wasn''t perfect. As he expected, there were facial scars.

    "I''m sorry about the scars," said Thomas. "It''s the best I can do for you right now. Perhaps there are mages in Manarithia that can help heal those scars."

    The dragon grunted and nodded in response. This made Thomas chuckle.

    "I still can''t believe I''m talking to a dragon and she understands me," he said. "I always wanted to do this for a long time, even before I was finished with my studies. Guess I am quite lucky, huh?"

    He then sighed. "But I never feel good about it. My luck always came in expense of others, whether I like it or not. This life came because my sister sacrificed herself for it. I had spoken a lot about her back then, and I meant everything I said about her. She was a strong-willed woman, an inspiration among a family that were too busy with running a kingdom. Everyone had a responsibility, and it felt like I hardly know them at all."

    The dragon looked around, especially after he said ''kingdom''. Thomas thought the dragon did not appreciate him lying to her, so he said, "I did it to protect myself. I was a prince, yes, but I couldn''t tell anyone that. It''s not because no one''s going to believe me. It''s because I''m afraid they would, and I someone would come for me. Wyrith...Wyrith''s not a kingdom I recognize anymore. I lost everyone. I lost my family. I lost...I lost...."

    Thomas bit his lips. He tried his best not to be overwhelmed by the traumatic experience. He promised Rory, and then himself, that he would not cry or relive the experience all over again. It was not good for his future. If it wasn''t for Rory''s advice, he could end up becoming a wrathful man, bent on vengeance. He should''ve just leave that life behind, and be Thomas Alonquin.

    As he tried his best to stay calm, the dragon nudged him with her snout and, to his surprise and astonishment, began to talk.

    "Holding back the pain will not do you any favors, Thomas," said the dragon. "But I commend you for that."

    "H-huh?" said Thomas. "You? You talked, Princess?"

    ''Princess'' scoffed. "My true name is not ''Princess''."

    "Then, what is it?"

    The dragon paused, then said, "Do you think I''d tell it to just anyone?"

    "Oh. You have a point. But still, you talked? But that''s...."

    "A secret between us, considering how good you are with keeping secrets," said ''Princess''.

    "Does Bartlett know?"

    "He knows. You, and possibly Rory, will be the second and the third person alive who knows this secret."

    "Alive? Then does that mean...?"

    The dragon grinned, causing Thomas to be taken aback.

    "I-I understand! I won''t speak of this to anyone!" said Thomas.

    "Are you sure about that? Surely, you must have alerted someone with a pair of sharp ears."

    Thomas immediately realized that she was referring to him sharing his secret with a normal tone. He immediately looked around, only for ''Princess'' to say, "No one is here, Thomas. Our secrets are safe."

    Thomas sighed, not knowing that the dragon, was secretly his presumably dead sister, Henrietta. She tried hard holding back her laughter. It was quite fun, making use of his obsession with dragons to play with him. It was better than not being able to say anything, though Henrietta believed that there would be a time when she should be honest about it and tell him the truth.

    She believed this way was better than just telling him about it outright. She never realized how wrong she could be.

    "Feel free sharing about this to your friend," said ''Princess''. "I''m sure he''ll be surprised."

    Thomas wondered if that was the reason why the dragon respected him enough to reveal that she could talk with him, not knowing that Henrietta decided not to make things too complicated and just allow herself to tell him about herself slowly, at least until she could muster enough courage to tell him the truth. She believed the truth would be too hard to swallow.

    When Thomas left on that boat, she knew she was dying the moment she saw her intestines dangling out of her cut stomach. When she became a dragon and was on the run, all she could think about was the worst case scenario: that Thomas was ambushed at the shores and did not survive. Yet, she kept hoping that he would survive, never able to move on from it and her own vengeance against those who attacked her kingdom.

    From afar, Bartlett and Rory saw the two conversing with each other, prompting Bartlett to smack his head in frustration, along with Rory letting out a smirk.

    "Your dragon''s beaten you to a punch," commented Rory.

    "I can see that," said Bartlett with a sigh. "I''m more surprised you don''t seem fazed about it."

    "Hokinese dragons can talk," he said nonchalantly. "They don''t speak in common tongue, though."

    Bartlett looked at him and wondered if he had traveled more than anyone before meeting Thomas. Even Bartlett, in his adventuring days, had never been that far east before. The man could ask Rory many things, but he preferred not to.

    "You don''t want to reprimand her about it?" asked Rory, returning Bartlett to the conversation.

    Bartlett pondered about it before saying, "No. I think it''s better for her to have someone to talk to besides me. But this is going to be complicated."

    "It doesn''t have to be," said Rory. "Tom''s a good kid. Looking at him now, you''d hardly believed that he was a prince."

    "That''s what makes a good prince. I think I remembered someone told me that a prince will become a king only when he''s accepted by everyone. Same goes for a princess who aimed to be a queen. He may not have the throne anymore, but who cares about that? All you need is a good-natured soul and you can befriend anyone."

    "Even if that ''anyone'' happened to be a dragon? You do realize his fixation with them, right?"

    "He probably wants to know more about her."

    "What else he wants to know? He rode on her, he fought with her, and he certainly had gained enough respect out of her. I really don''t want to go there, Evans, so just leave it at that."

    "Yeah." Bartlett knew the conversation would be too awkward to continue. "Let''s leave it at that."

    The two started walking towards Henrietta and Thomas, who noticed them and waved at them. While Bartlett reprimanded Henrietta, taking care not to speak her real name out loud, Rory pondered on what Bartlett said to him earlier.

    "He doesn''t seem surprised to know Thomas is a prince," pondered Rory. "I wonder why."

    He nevertheless shrugged and joined the three, celebrating the success of their first job together.

 Chapter 18

    <div>

    It had been years since Bartlett traveled as a group, which was a welcome change of pace. For the past ten years, ever since he left his last adventuring party, he had been traveling alone taking on various short, but high-paying, quests, most of which were dangerous. Only someone with enough experience like him could do it alone.

    But as time went on, he got older. Along with age, came a jaded view on life. He started his journey when he was 21 years old. Now, he was 31, though he felt like he was 40, perhaps even 50. It did not mean he had wisdom beyond his age. He was simply tired of life, yet he still pushed on, hoping that he could experience a renewed sense of joy. He had no such luck in a decade or so.

    There was a virtue for patience, though, as Bartlett''s wishes came true. He was part of a new adventuring party, and he felt reinvigorated by how unusual it was. Nobody would expect a talking dragon to be part of their adventuring party, let alone one with a unique scale color. His new companions took it all in stride, simplifying matters greatly.

    Thomas, though, was more ecstatic than anyone in that group. The young mage was ecstatic to know that the dragon could speak, let alone acknowledging his kindness. He read somewhere that dragons chose their allies instead of being chosen for them. They were, in their own way, a good judge of character. Granted, it was a study on Hokinese dragons, but ''Princess'' already exhibited many traits of the dragons from the far east. That did not mean the Manarithian dragons were any less different, as the dragon riders had clearly shared the fact that they had a bond with their dragons.

    The silence was not broken until they decided that they should made camp, as pointed out by Rory. The two Clydethian newcomers started to prepare their camp, with Thomas starting a fire under an iron pot while Rory prepared the food for the night. Bartlett was already finished setting up the tent before he decided to walk towards Henrietta, who sat a distance away as to not disturb them.

    Bartlett, though, knew the real reason why.

    "Hey," greeted Bartlett.

    Henrietta replied with a grunt.

    "How do you feel?" he asked. "You''ll get to use your fire soon. You''ll be whole again."

    "I know," she said, sounding indifferent. "It''s just...."

    "Yes?"

    "I didn''t think this through. Revealing my secret to Thomas, I mean."

    Bartlett did not need to be reminded of what happened in Sondheimer the previous day, when she decided to reveal that she could talk to a human. While it was a good progress on Henrietta''s part, there was something she was still reluctant to say.

    "You know what they say," said Bartlett. "If you want to reveal something, you''ve got to go through with it."

    "Even if I want to, he wouldn''t believe me," replied Henrietta. "That was a mistake. I shouldn''t have told anything."

    "Henrietta, he''s not going to blame you for everything wrong in his life. Besides, I doubt you''re going to keep that secret forever. You must share it, especially to your brother."

    "He saw me die, Bartlett. I remembered that moment vividly. My entrails was hanging out of my stomach, for god''s sake."

    "Everybody needs a miracle in their lives, princess," he said. "He won''t believe you at first, but if you can explain it to him carefully, he won''t laugh. Rather, I''m sure he''s going to accept that the sister he thought dead survived as the creature he''s fond of."

    Henrietta seemed to contemplate his words.

    "You''re right," said Henrietta. "Then again, this is not your choice, Bartlett. Let me...Let me find a better moment. Hopefully, when we have finished this whole affair, I can muster enough courage to tell him everything. For now, I think it''s better for him to be used to with the idea that I can talk."

    "Then I won''t bother you. Take your time, and don''t hesitate to ask for my help if you need it."

    "Talking about help, I need your opinion," requested Henrietta. "What do you think about Rory?"

    "Pretty reliable and unique in his own rights," answered Bartlett. "It''s not easy finding someone with such mastery with unarmed combat. Most of them don''t bother travelling this far west."

    "I don''t mean his usefulness. What do you think of him as a person?"

    Bartlett raised an eyebrow.

    "Why ask this question?"

    "I''m not sure about it, but Rory...he doesn''t seem bothered by the fact that I could talk. I don''t mind his straightforwardness. It''s just...it feels as if he always knew I could talk."

    "Are you suggesting that Rory might be an enemy?"

    "I don''t want to believe that''s the case. I want to thank him for being a friend to Thomas during trying times, but I can''t shake the feeling that he''s playing a long game."

    "You trusted me. Why change your mind?"

    "You don''t know who I am. You were clearly surprised that I could speak, and you did not know that I was once human. Then, you decided to help me against those bastards. I had my reservations, but I was thoroughly convinced when that witch ensnared you."

    Bartlett did not want to remember what happened when Shana, the vulpine witch of the Carlesian mountain, did to him barely a week ago. Thankfully, he did not need to when Henrietta continued.

    "Rory, though...he gave me instructions as if he knew I could understand him. Then he cracked a joke when approaching me. I want to believe that he''s seen things, not because he knew who I am. I don''t want any more surprises. The last time that happened, my family was massacred."

    "Wait. What kind of surprise?"

    Bartlett did not have the chance to ask. He heard a twig snapping, which prompted him to turn towards the direction of the sound, when he saw Rory.

    "What''s up?" asked Bartlett.

    "Stew''s ready," said Rory. He then looked up at Henrietta and said, "I roasted a chunk of meat for you, Princess."

    "A-ah. Splendid," said Henrietta. "We''ll come join you soon. Thank you."

    This exchange made Bartlett tense, especially after their earlier conversation. Henrietta''s suspicions towards Rory might as well be unfounded, considering her having trust issues. This fact made the human wonder what truly transpired the night both Henrietta and Thomas escaped the massacre.

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    <hr>

    The journey back from Sondheimer to Carlesi was thankfully shorter thanks to a direct route they could follow. With a certain goal, they did not need to take detours and would simply travel directly towards the mountains, which shortened their journey by several days.

    But once they reached the border crossing, everyone noticed that something was not right. The sky was dark, as if a storm was brewing, despite of the clear weather in Clydeth.

    There was a foreboding silence as they noticed that the wind had died out. While wondering if they should make haste to Carlesi to seek shelter, Thomas felt something else.

    "This cloud...it''s the product of a spell," said Thomas, sensing the air. "Too much magick to be a natural occurrence."

    "You can sense that?" asked an amazed Bartlett.

    "I wouldn''t be a full-fledged mage if I can''t do that."

    "Where does it come from?"

    Thomas looked at the cloud, then noticed a swirling pattern that ended, or rather, originated, from a nearby town. It was at that moment he and the others noticed a flash of lightning that came from an unnatural source, that being from the town itself.

    "That''s a spell cast," said Thomas. "An attack."

    "That''s Carlesi," said Bartlett. He then realized that there was no reason for anyone to attack a small, mining town tucked away from the border unless they were hunting a specific person.

    Henrietta came to the same conclusion and said, "That witch is in trouble. We can''t let her die yet!"

    Without delay, Bartlett climbed on top of the dragon''s back, along with Thomas and Rory, before she ran towards the town with the speed she could muster. This was also the moment that she realized how having three men on her back severely impeded her.

    Thankfully, it did not have to be long. They reached the town just as some soldiers noticed their arrivals. Henrietta stopped just as one of them approached them, prompting Bartlett to climb down the dragon''s back to talk with him.

    "We can''t let you interfere with the fight," claimed the soldier when Bartlett asked the situation. "Our mage''s battling the Sionnach. I can''t guarantee your safety if you enter."

    "We, uh, we--"

    Before Bartlett could come up with an excuse, Rory dashed past them and struck a soldier in the middle of unsheathing his sword, planning to strike Bartlett when he was unaware. His kick caused the soldier to be thrown several feet away before hitting a house wall, surprising everyone present.

    "What the hell are you doing?!" exclaimed a surprised Bartlett.

    "He was drawing his sword," said Rory, then added, "Unprovoked."

    "He could''ve been trying to warn us!"

    "If he did, he should have done that before confronting us."

    Rory''s attack was a provocation on his part, which in the end, provoked the soldiers to draw their swords. Bartlett immediately draw his round shield to shield himself while Rory dodged gracefully between the soldiers before kicking and punching them with a rather complex martial arts technique that involved disarming the weapons with a grab, a knee or a kick, then a strike to their unprotected face. The battle started to become hectic the moment Henrietta roared and started attacking the soldiers coming towards her and Thomas, who was still sitting on the saddle on her back.

    The young mage suddenly sensed danger, and was quickly alerted by a horizontal lightning, a product of a spell, coming right at them. It prompted him to quickly cast a barrier spell from his spellbook. It nullified the lightning spell in a brilliant flash of light, followed by the barrier breaking like shattered glass. It momentarily stunned and bewildered him. His barrier never broke from a spell before, even during combat spell classes. The spell cast was of a different, lethal level.

    Thomas''s assist gave enough time for another person to use a spell that made use of the forest. Henrietta saw how the mage, a woman with an ashen gray complexion and white hair, was being forcibly pulled into the forest by a tree, disappearing into the thick forest.

    Henrietta recognized whose spell it was. Almost immediately, she found the fox person she was looking for, kneeling while letting out a ragged breath, her hand outstretched. The dragon quickly approached her.

    "Shana!" she exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

    Shana let out a dry chuckle, just as Thomas supported her on his shoulder. The magick fight had clearly exhausted her, evident from her disheveled fur, which was caked in blood. Henrietta wasn''t sure if it was her blood or her enemy''s.

    "About time you got back," said Shana. "I do appreciate the timing."

    "Who are they?" asked Henrietta.

    "My enemies," replied Shana short. "Which are yours, too. They disguised themselves as Manarithian soldiers. I knew who they were almost immediately when they asked for me. They knew I am a Sionnach. No Manarithian would know who I really am."

    "A Sionnach?!" exclaimed Thomas in surprise. "I thought you''re a fairytale character!"

    "Who is he?" asked Shana.

    "Thomas," said Henrietta short. "Someone who helped with the cockatrice hunt."

    Shana recognized the name, while at the same time noticing the dragon subtly shaking her head. It did not take long for the Sionnach to realize the situation and decided not to say anything.

    "Did you get the ingredients, then?" asked Shana.

    "Thomas, the pouch," requested Henrietta.

    Thomas promptly took out a leatherskin pouch containing the venom sac and gave it to Shana. She, in turn, produced the rest of the ingredients: a malachite ore and a fire thistle. She immediately pulled out a knife to nick three of Henrietta''s scales. She immediately throw the ingredients on the ground and started murmuring. Only Thomas understood the significance of her action.

    "I never thought I''d witness faerie magick up close," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice. "This has been quite an eventful adventure."

    "Thomas, I''d appreciate if you focus on the situation at hand," said Henrietta. "There she comes."

    She saw how the forest slowly withered with the woman slowly walking out of it. Now that her visage was clear, they both could tell that she was not human, not with a pair of long, pointy ears characteristic of a pureblood elf. Her ashen gray skin and white hair were not what both former Wyrithians recognized, however.

    What really stood out, however, was the fact that she exuded a malicious aura that kept both human and dragon on their toes, with Henrietta reflexively growling in an attempt to intimidate the unusual-looking elf. Thomas, meanwhile, realized the gravity of the situation and prepared himself for the worst, especially after he realized that the same elf managed to break his barrier.

    "A pink-scaled, talking dragon with a cursed collar," said the elf as she observed Henrietta. "She fits the description."

    Henrietta was worried that the elf would start spilling out her secret, assuming that she was allied with her enemies. When that happened, Henrietta needed to explain everything before she was ready. She mentally sighed when the elf simply scoffed.

    "No matter," commented the elf. "I''ll make this quick."

    Meanwhile, both Rory and Bartlett made short work of the soldiers, all of whom were no match against Rory''s agility and Bartlett''s swordsmanship, which he combined with a shield. Once the last soldier standing hit the ground after passing out from Rory''s concentrated strike, they both relaxed while catching their breaths.

    "You''re pretty good," said Rory.

    "As do you. You do shine against a crowd, don''t you?" replied Bartlett.

    "You''re more impressive. I''ve never seen someone handling a shield as good as you are."

    "I have good teachers." Bartlett then smiled. "Right. We should--"

    He was quickly interrupted by a figure quickly dashing towards them. He couldn''t do what he usually did, so he held his round shield right in front of him, hoping for some level of defense. His shield was immediately broken and the force of the impact threw him several feet away towards a nearby building''s wall. His head hit the wall, blood streaming down from his forehead. He remained conscious, but was disoriented.

    "Bartlett!" exclaimed Rory, before he turned his attention to the figure attacking them. He let out a surprised gasp upon noticing the figure.

    The figure was humanoid in appearance, but there was nothing that could identify it with a human. Its appearance was more beast person-like than a human, except the person did not look like any beast person native to Manarithia. One quick glance made it clear that the beast person was reptilian, complete with a body covered in scales and a thick, meaty tail. He was bigger than most humanoids, hunching over like a beast.

    "What...is that?" asked a still disoriented Bartlett. "A monster?"

    "Far from it," said Rory, tending to Bartlett. His hand was soaked in the the man''s blood.

    Bartlett struggled to get on his feet, but his disorientation, caused by the concussion he suffered from the head trauma, made him lose his balance. Rory realized that Bartlett was out of it.

    "Let me handle this," said Rory. "You can''t even stand on your feet."

    "You can''t fight that thing alone," insisted Bartlett.

    "I don''t plan to die here. Like I said before, I know what I''m doing."

    Bartlett tried to argue, but as he noticed the reptilian monster growling and focusing its attention on Rory, he realized the man was right. Reluctantly, he nodded, letting Rory deal with the monster while Bartlett struggled to move away from the battlefield.

    "Smart man," he said, before he returned his attention to the reptilian person in front of him. "I''m sure deep down you don''t want to do this, but at this point, I''m not sure if you can understand any words I said. Nod if you do, big guy."

    The reptilian replied with a roar and a charging stance. Rory''s expression darkened as he prepared himself for a hard fight.

    He gazed at the reptilian kind''s hollow eyes. Sadness apparent in his voice as he focused on defending himself, and to kill the reptilian monster in front of him.

    "I''m sorry," he choked. "I''m so sorry."

 Chapter 19

    <main>

    <div>

    <div>

    The battle against the ashen gray elf did not go as expected. Her spellcasting was far more proficient than Thomas, in addition to having more experience and magick reserve. His inexperience in spell battle was made apparent by his focus on finding the right page to use, which distracted him. Clydethian style of spellcasting relied on stocking spells in his spellbook. Given his unfamiliarity with quick-thinking in high-stress situation, he was struggling to keep up with his enemy''s dark magick. The ashen-skinned elf cast what Thomas recognized as simple magick that required no incantation. The only indication of the spell being cast was the barely visible silvery threads that formed into something transparent that Thomas could only defend himself using a barrier. He managed to notice that she made use of her hands to cast her spells, but he wasn''t perceptive enough to understand her gestures and how the correlate to her spells.

    Thomas would be overwhelmed if it wasn''t for the dragon. The dragon could not use fire due to the cursed collar, but she compensate with her ferocity. She was fearless, fueled by the desire to rip her opponent apart for endangering Thomas. This ferocity caught the elf''s attention, who immediately turn her attention towards her the moment she lunged and failed to get past her spell.

    Henrietta silently admitted that this was her first true battle against a human-sized opponent that did not involve tricks or ambushes. It was a disadvantage for her, as she couldn''t gauge how strong her opponent was. Realizing this, she moved around, keeping her late mentor''s words in her mind.

    "Don''t just stand around when engaging an opponent. Keep yourself on the move and attempt a strike when you see an opening."

    This advice worked well for her. Even after her body became several times larger than a human, she was still as agile, perhaps even more than that, when she managed to move around avoiding the magick projectiles the dark elf shot at her. It was hard to see, but she could feel it. Whether it was her instinct or because she was a dragon, Henrietta couldn''t tell. All she could do was to be grateful that, despite the difficulty of moving on all fours, she caught on pretty quickly for someone who only became a dragon for two years.

    But this was not something she wanted to maintain forever. She was doing this because she was waiting for someone to remove the curse that was impairing her. She knew the elf she was facing would eventually lose patience and used advanced spells that would surely trapped her. Thomas was a capable mage, but this fight was beyond his ability.

    Nearby, Shana managed to finish the incantation to the curse removal spell. The Sionnach looked towards the battlefield, where she saw both Thomas and Henrietta were engaged in a battle with the dark elf. Realizing the situation, she knew she couldn''t delay.

    "Hen...." She stopped, noting that Henrietta did not wish for her secret to be revealed just yet. She shook her head and cried, "Princess!"

    Henrietta dodged a dark projectile then turn her head toward the Sionnach. Realizing that she had finished her spell, the dragon quickly ran towards the fox. Her abrupt disengage alerted the elf that something was going on. The elf immediately focused her attention towards the Sionnach, preparing to cast a spell. Thomas sensed a great amount of magick being molded by the elf. Realizing that they were in great danger, he quickly opened his spellbook on a page where he stocked the strongest spell in his arsenal, preparing himself to counter whatever the elf was preparing.

    The elf, who noticed Thomas preparing himself, let out a chuckle, as if ridiculing the young man''s determination. Thomas simply stayed his ground, aware that she could actually be bluffing, or perhaps she truly knew that she had a stronger spell, which started to manifest on the tip of her hand. From the look and the feel, Thomas could tell that it was a fire spell.

    "Foolish human," said the elf. "I know your kind''s limits. You are too inexperienced to even stock anything of worth to counter this spell. Your pitiful attempt will surely be consumed by my magick."

    "I know that," retorted Thomas. "But at least I tried."

    "Hah! Defiant until the end. Very well, then. Perhaps I''ll tell you the true nature of this spell."

    The fireball was forming, and Thomas knew what to expect when he turned his spellbook''s page to an ice spell. But before he could cast the spell, he noticed, or rather, felt, something was different from the fire the elf was casting. Visually, it started to change color from the red and orange color of a fire into a dark purple color, before it settled in a color dark enough to be mistaken as black. From this point, it started to grow bigger, and from it, a chilling sensation creeping into him, causing him to shudder from the vile feeling of dread.  It was as if all the negative feelings he had ever felt was condensed into the fireball that grew bigger and bigger every second. That feeling of unease also caused him to doubt, and the elf noticed this, evident from her smirk.

    "Your magick is nothing compared to the power of Vyrnia," said the elf. "This is the truth we Fel''uven seeks. This is our salvation. This truth is greater than anything you ever hoped to achieve!"

    Yet before she could complete the spell, a powerful burst of flame engulfed her, breaking her concentration.

    Thomas snapped out of the dreadful feeling and turn towards the source of the fire. He saw the pink-scaled dragon alongside the Sionnach supporting herself on the dragon''s body. The sight of the dragon made him smile.

    Henrietta ever felt so alive ever since she turned into a dragon. The relief of having the collar off was followed by a surge of power within her. It was like a sealed tap within her was finally open and left that way, filling her with magick beyond which she had ever felt before. She wasn''t aware of it back then, but now, she felt it. She felt the warmth in her lungs. She felt her body whole again.

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    She felt what it was like to be a dragon.

    "If you have time to admire your newfound powers," said Shana. "Reserve that once this battle''s over."

    "She couldn''t have possibly survived that fire," said Henrietta.

    Shana scoffed. "Don''t overestimate yourself, Princess. That fire wasn''t strong enough against a Fel''uven mage. Especially her."

    True enough, Thomas sensed the similar feeling of dread and turned his head towards where he sensed the familiar feeling. There was a swirl of dark energy, followed by the elf appearing in a blink of an eye. There was smoke billowing from her body, but she was otherwise unharmed.

    "Dimensional shift," said Shana. "The only way you can escape that intense fire. From the look of it, you barely made it."

    The elf dusted off the soot caused by the fire.

    "So, you have broke the curse," she said. "Only a member of the faerie race could have done it so easily. You clearly live up to your reputation, Shannara."

    "That''s quite an honor, coming from you," said Shana, sarcastically.

    "You made a mistake leaving our side. You don''t owe anything to the people who rejected you. Why help these people? Their efforts pale in comparison to Vyrnia."

    "Sorry, Mizzorra. You should''ve known how faeries only have themselves to rely on. Even that''s a stretch, since we like to play tricks to one another. But if there''s one thing we faeries don''t do, is play around with dark magick, especially something as demonic as Vyrnian magick."

    Mizzorra sighed. She was hoping that Shana, with her loose morale and her own past, would be willing to follow the Fel''uven. Perhaps she was overestimating her willingness.

    "Then die, knowing that you made the worst decision in your life," said Mizzorra as she prepared casting another spell.

    "I doubt it."

    From behind her, the Carlesian bartender, one of many townsfolk that was under her spell, held her in place. She stomped on his feet, realizing too late that he was under some sort of trance.

    "Now, Princess! Give her hell!" exclaimed Shana.

    Henrietta let out a fresh burst of fire, but once again, it came out a split second too late. Mizzorra broke free by burning the man using purple flame and managed to teleport herself away, moments before the fire hit where the bartender was. She instead teleported beside Shana.

    "Shit!" exclaimed Shana.

    "Checkmate," declared Mizzorra.

    But right at that moment, something unexpected happened. Mizzorra''s prepared spell, a concentrated projectile that would kill Shana failed, bursting in the Fel''uven''s hand and knocking it away. It surprised both of them, especially Mizzorra. She knew the type of spell that could easily do that. It angered her.

    "A counter spell?!" she exclaimed in anger.

    She turned towards where the counter spell was cast. Bartlett, still concussed and was propping himself on a nearby wall, pointed two fingers towards the elf. Mizzorra immediately cast a quick spell to finish him, but Bartlett was much faster.

    "Cancel!" he exclaimed.

    A spark of energy came out of his fingers and hit the elf''s hand, dispelling the spell the Fel''uven tried to cast. It also caused her hand to recoil painfully.

    Him declaring the spell caused Mizzorra to turn towards him in anger.

    "You bastard!"

    "I can say the same to you!" taunted Bartlett, between his ragged breath.

    Not taking anymore chances, Shana held her palms in front of Mizzorra and cast a sealing spell that prevented Mizzorra to teleport. Thomas, who managed to find the right spell to use, and after quickly assessing the situation, cast a barrier spell right in front of Shana just as Henrietta breathed out a fresh burst of fire.

    This time, they heard scream. An agonizing scream as the elf was burned and was unable to escape. However, it was abruptly cut off. Shana heard something breaking just moments before a swirl of dark energy engulfed Mizzorra.

    When Henrietta stopped. Mizzorra was gone. Her fire was not hot enough to burn her into ashes, so there was only one reason.

    "Damn it!" exclaimed a frustrated Shana. "She must''ve had a recall point! We lost her!"

    As she tried running, she felt herself weakened and was unable to even keep standing. She fell on her knees, coughing blood. The pain from her broken ribs, and her spending more magick reserves than she usually did, took a toll to her body. Thomas, who was nearby, tried to help her, but to his astonishment, saw her body slowly morphing from a more anthropomorphic form to a fox, albeit wolf-sized.

    "Wow," said an astonished Thomas.

    "Don''t just stare," said Shana. Her voice croaked from overexertion. "Do you know...any healing spells?"

    Thomas, sadly, shook his head.

    "Yeah. I figured," she said, before she lost consciousness.

    Thomas, unsure of what to do, turned to Henrietta.

    "What should we do, Princess?"

    "We need to get off this mountain before anyone realized what happened," said Henrietta. "We can''t survive another ambush like that again, not when everyone''s incapacitated."

    "Wait," said Thomas, looking around. "Where is Rory?"

    "I''m...here."

    They all turn to find a severely injured Rory striding slowly towards them. He was covered in gashes and cuts, clearly caused by the monster he fought by himself. Thomas ran towards him before he fell to the ground, while Henrietta went to Bartlett, whose grogginess was a clear indication of his current health. Henrietta could immediately tell how dire the situation was when she saw his head soaked in blood. She immediately grabbed him and carefully put him on her back with her nimble, hand-like right claw.

    "You...fought them by yourself?" asked a bewildered Thomas to Rory. "Why didn''t you wait for me?"

    "You''ll be a distraction I don''t need," said Rory. "Don''t worry. I won''t die. I can''t afford to."

    Rory, unable to deal with the pain from all the injuries, fell unconscious too.

    "Get him and the fox on. We need to go now," commanded Henrietta.

    Thomas did so, with great difficulty. His physique was not built for lifting adults. Nevertheless, he finished the deeds and climbed on top of the saddle.

    "Where to?" asked Henrietta to Bartlett.

    "That mountain...at the base of the mountain," said Bartlett. "Glide there."

    "I will try," said Henrietta. "Hold on tight, everyone!"

    She quickly dashed on the only straight strip of flat land while keeping her wings open. Once she reached the end of the cliff, the dragon jumped off. Her wings kept her airborne, surprising and astonishing Thomas as he kept a tight grip on Shana.

    As she left the town, the surviving townsfolk of Carlesi, those that Shana evacuated into the town hall when she was alerted by the fake soldiers, walked out to find a town damaged by a recent attack they were not aware of. The had no memory of what happened; all they remembered was that there was an attack, and that they seek shelter in the town hall. They had time to ponder about it after they prioritize in checking for survivors and to bury their deaths. To them, the attack came and went without their involvement.

    Yet, little did they know, this attack was the first of many attacks behind the battlefield, one that would determine the fate of Manarithia as a whole.

    </main>

 Chapter 20

    <div>

    Henrietta never tried to properly glide from a higher altitude before, but she had to try.

    Utilizing the knowledge she learned earlier in the journey, Henrietta outstretched her wings while she ran as fast as she could to the cliff¡¯s edge. The cliffside was full of jagged, sharp rocks that could injure her soft scales, but she paid it no mind. She had to get everyone to a doctor before it was too late.

    Her wings were stiff, as she was still not used to having a new pair of limbs on her back. It actually worked for her benefit, as they provided the lift necessary for her to clear the rocks at the edge of the cliffs and glide properly. Her lighter bones, akin to a bird, helped her stay airborne, maintaining altitude by swaying her body as she felt the wind on her leathery wings. She was getting precariously close to the trees as she could not flap her wings properly, but thankfully, she cleared it and reached the grasslands.

    Her riders kept hoping that she would not crash. Henrietta also knew this. There was no point in risking everyone''s life if that''s the end result. Bartlett kept Shana pressed on the saddle, with Thomas doing the same to the injured Rory as Henrietta prepared to land. Taking points from her experience, she readied her hindlegs to touch the ground, followed by her forelegs. The momentum carried her forward, forcing her to run on all fours until she slowed herself to a pace, then to a walk, before finally stopping. She let out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°God, that was exhilarating,¡± she said. She then remembered about Thomas, and everyone on her . She totally forgot about them due to the spell that negated two of her riders'' weights (courtesy of Shana, who regained consciousness as the wind blew on her vulpine face) and her being focused on her gliding. The fact that they stayed silent throughout the glide also contributed to that.

    "Is everyone okay?" she asked, worriedly.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, if you¡¯re asking,¡± said Shana weakly. ¡°Although my ribs aren¡¯t. Ashe¡¯s curse, it hurts.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get to a town soon, okay?¡± said Henrietta. ¡°I remembered the town. It''s nearby. We''ll be there in no time."

    ¡°Then hurry.¡± Shana turned her attention to Rory, who was bandaged with whatever''s available in the town. Blood soaked the makeshift bandages through. "That man''s not going to make it without immediate attention."

    Henrietta nodded and started running, keeping a good pace while trying not to throw her riders off. She slightly increased her pace when she heard Rory¡¯s delirious moaning, clearly caused by the injuries he sustained. Thomas kept him secured, but also let out his opinion on the man''s recklessness.

    "I never thought I''d say this," said Thomas. "But in this situation, you''re a fool, you know that?"

    Unknown to him, Henrietta cracked a smile, content to know that her brother was not the same meek person he was two years ago. He would not have the courage to reprimand anyone, not even his older sister, despite their casual conversation with each other.

    He had truly grown into a fine man, one who showed courage against all odds.

    Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by Shana, who let out a grunt of pain.

    "Oh...Ashe''s curse...," she said, keeling over.

    "What?" asked Henrietta. "What''s wrong?"

    "I think...I ruptured something," replied Shana.

    "Damn it. Hold tight!¡±

    The dragon increased her pace until it became a sprint. Soon, she saw the sign directing the to Ottimar. She immediately swerved towards the road leading to the town, ignoring confused travelers as to why a dragon with wings ran on all fours.

    She found herself entering a town in less than an hour. The sight of a pink-scaled dragon stopping from her run was rather intimidating to the surprised onlookers.

    Thomas climbed down and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Is there a doctor here?!" he cried. "I need a doctor!"

    Moments later, a team of doctors and nurses reached them. They quickly assessed the situation and the injuries of everyone. They paid particular attention to Rory, the most severely injured of the four. One of them cast a spell that bathe them in a warm light, before asking the doctors to take over. Another doctor tended to Shana, who took her to the nearby hospital, while another tended to the concussed Bartlett.

    Thomas''s attention was drawn to the warm light one of the doctor cast around Rory. To Thomas''s astonishment, Rory''s gashes stopped bleeding in seconds. However, before it could be closed completely, the light faded away. The doctor looked exhausted.

    "I can''t heal him completely," said the doctor. "The rapid healing will undoubtedly cause severe pain. He will need to rest for a couple of days to let his wounds heal naturally. I''ll use healing aura to cover the scars."

    "You''re a cleric?" asked Thomas.

    "Never was," said the man. "Hence the side effect. But it''s better than nothing, and it saves life. To me, that''s good enough."

    Thomas nodded, both in appreciation and in understanding.

    "Will he be alright?" asked Thomas.

    "Give us a couple of days," said the doctor. "You should rest and clean yourself up, too. You look like you have your fair share of adventuring. I''ll heal your dragon, but you should bring her to a proper healer. There''s one in Silver Vale. It''s the next town, four hours by foot."

    Thomas thanked the doctor before the man excused himself. The assurance that his friend was going to survive despite the injuries was a relief for the young mage, who sighed rather audibly. He was keeping his worry in check, knowing that panicking would serve no purpose but to cause the situation to be worse. In fact, he couldn''t afford to, not when he was also happy to have flown on a dragon''s back, a dream he once had, and never let go.

    But that was not the last of their worries. The crowd did not disperse. Instead, they stayed around, looking at them anxiously. It was clear, from Henrietta''s observation, that their attention was not towards her. It also served to remind her that she was back in Manarithia, where dragons were more common.

    "What happened?" asked a worried older man. "What caused that man to be so mangled like that?"

    "I prefer not to speak about it," said Bartlett, who had recovered. "I don''t want to spread misinformation."

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    "But you must! We need to be ready if those Wyrithians come here! The soldiers have warned us of an attack."

    "Attack?" asked Bartlett. He became intrigued by the development. "What are you talking about?"

    "Where have you been? It''s news all over the region!"

    "I''ve been to Clydeth, but there haven''t been anything noteworthy discussed in that region."

    "That''s because those mages know how to deal with them swiftly," commented another distraught man. "Come now, man. You will not spread any misinformation if you claim it so. You need to know about this. It''s also for your dragon''s sake, too."

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "Those damned Wyrithians. I heard they developed weapons that could kill dragons swiftly. The war at the frontline became disastrous after dragon riders fell from the sky one after another."

    The man said it so desperately, which gave both Bartlett and Henrietta a reason to believe it. Manarithia had prided itself for being a nation that trained dragon riders. If that pride could be easily taken down by the enemy, it would surely damage the confidence of the Manarithians, losing their morale.

    As Bartlett went on explaining what just transpired, Henrietta was more concerned with the fact that she was too conspicuous by the fact that she was unique in term of appearance. Not only were her scales ashen pink in color, but also the fact that some of her unusual features, especially her blonde mane and her coral-like horns, made her stood out among the duller-colored dragons. Her enemies would surely have been alerted ever since that Fel''uven escaped. Or, rather, they already knew who she was before the confrontation in Carlesi.

    "It is as I feared," thought Henrietta. "I can''t stay anonymous forever."

    Worried of this development, Henrietta pulled Bartlett to her side with her claws, surprising the onlookers with the unusual gesture.

    "Sorry, people," said Bartlett, apologetically raising his hands. "She''s a feisty one."

    Henrietta did not appreciate being called feisty, but she kept this thought for herself until they got out of earshot for her to safely talk with her companion.

    "Feisty?" she complained, keeping her voice low.

    "You were acting like a feisty girlfriend," he commented, causing her to become bewildered.

    "I am not your girlfriend!"

    "Yes, I know. Or, would you rather I try to explain why a dragon can freely speak to anyone? We both know we don''t have the necessary patience to do so."

    Henrietta sighed. Keeping her secret was starting to get harder and harder the more she traveled in the open.

    "But enough of that. What''s wrong, Henrietta?"

    Bartlett''s enquiry made her return to the original reason why she pulled him aside.

    "We need to go as soon as possible," said Henrietta. "If they know where we are...."

    "I agree," said Bartlett. "The longer we stay in Ottimar, the more we put these people at risk. But we can''t move, not when Rory and Shana are still injured."

    "And we can''t just leave Thomas behind. He''d never want to leave Rory''s side," surmised Henrietta. "Besides, if they know who he really is...."

    "Don''t think too much about it. They went to Carlesi to find Shana. They didn''t even know that you and Thomas would be involved. Maybe they thought he''s just a hired adventurer, not someone important enough. If they truly think he''s a danger to their plans, they would not hesitate to invade Clydeth just to find him."

    Henrietta had no choice but to agree with Bartlett''s line of thoughts.

    "So, what are we going to do?" asked Henrietta. "Or rather, what''s your plan?"

    "Tell them everything that happened in Carlesi, and implore them to defend the town. We can stay for one night before we have to move and divert their attention from these townspeople. I hope those doctors can heal Rory and Shana enough for them to be safely moved."

    "Implore them how?" asked Henrietta. "I''m not trying to downplay your importance, Bartlett, but you''re an adventurer, not an official dragon rider."

    "I...have my ways," said Bartlett, hesitantly. "Trust me on this one, princess. Just don''t ask."

    Being asked not to only served to make Henrietta curious as to how Bartlett was going to convince the townspeople. Just as he left, Thomas, who walked out of the nearby hospital, approached Henrietta, looking visibly distressed. She started to assume the worst.

    "Thomas?" she asked. Her tone tender. "What''s wrong? Is...is Rory...."

    "He will be fine," said the young mage. "The doctor did his best to save his life. It''s just...looking at him so mangled and so close too death...I...."

    His pale face told Henrietta everything she needed to know. It was, after all, the same face he showed the last time they saw each other, when Henrietta was still human. It might not look as bad to her, considering that she accepted her death back then, but for Thomas, who saw her injured and her stomach torn open, it would be horrifying. Perhaps Rory''s condition reminded him of that harrowing moment.

    "Thomas, hey," she called. "You said it yourself. He will come through in the end."

    "But why must he fought that monster alone?! Why can''t he retreat when Bartlett got injured? If we fight together, that monster was--"

    "Rory must have his own reasons to do so," said Henrietta. "Unfortunately, you can only ask him later, when he has been healed."

    "I know that. It''s just...I can''t believe how reckless he was. I can''t bear losing another person I cared about. Don''t he understand?"

    He drooped his head.

    "Why must I suffer this two times in my life? My sister was also like that. She wanted to protect me to the point of grievous injury. She was a princess, for god''s sake, not a warrior in armor! She couldn''t possibly have fought those monsters in a nightgown! Why must she act like a fool just to save me?!"

    Given that the object of his complain was right in front of him, it made sense for her to be tempted to just tell him that she survived being a foolish guardian. But she couldn''t. His words made her think about her own actions, of her life post-transformation. It would make more sense for them both if she just muster enough courage to tell him that she was his thought-dead sister.

    But part of her did not want that. It was not a thought made out of cruelty, but one made out of her own weakness as a human. She was being held back by her own guilt of not trying to search for Thomas and was consumed by her own desire for vengeance. When she killed those Wyrithian soldiers, she admitted to herself that she did it out of glee and sadistic pleasure, not out of necessity. She unnecessarily prolonged the suffering of the cockatrice because she was angry. Angry that it hurt her, despite knowing that it was just trying to survive. Upon reflection, it wasn''t necessary for her to rip that man''s head off like a doll. It wasn''t necessary for her to bash the skull of the cockatrice before breaking its neck.

    She realized that she was becoming crueler as she hated the people who ruined her life by what she did to the cockatrice. She should''ve just break its neck and be done with it, but she ended up bashing its skull more times than necessary, all because she was angered by the fact that she was being bested by the venomous chimera. While she did not think that way when dealing with the Fel''uven, it made her think of what her brother would think of her later, when she decided that it was best to reveal who she was.

    She wanted to believe that Thomas would disregard these slights. He didn''t know what transpired in that cave. Bartlett would not be cruel enough to reveal that fact to Thomas. Perhaps that could end up becoming her own dirty little secret. Or perhaps he didn''t think much about it. The uncertainty made her scared. Scared that Thomas would see her as a beast instead of a human. Scared that he was unable to bear the truth.

    And her fear won in the end.

    "They did that because they loved you," said Henrietta, not revealing who she was. "They want to protect you the way they know best."

    She was disappointed in herself. She could''ve just told him that it was her who cared for him, not this separate individual who was the princess of Manarithia.

    "They way they know best?" repeated Thomas.

    "You see, they fought the enemies to protect you, but they only know that the only way to do that was through violence," she explained. "Don''t blame them for being so foolish, Thomas."

    "I...see," he said, not sure what to think of from those words.

    "You can ask Rory once he woke up," said Henrietta. "I''m sure he''ll tell you the same thing."

    "Perhaps." Thomas sighed, feeling a little better. "I...don''t know what''s happening to me lately. Things got out of hand to the point where a dragon, of all thing, gave me the best reason out of any."

    "People tend to not think clearly in the face of danger," said Henrietta. "But I''m sure they have their reasons."

    "I suppose."

    Henrietta wanted to just slap herself for not taking this chance to tell him who she really was. This ended up giving her an idea that was rather unfounded.

    That perhaps she liked being dragon. Perhaps this freedom was better than being limited to a human.

    Perhaps the curse eroded her of her humanity, and over time, she would no longer speak, only grunt and growl like the dragon she had become. By then, she would truly had become a beast.

 Chapter 21

    Thomas jerked his head up when he felt someone shook him. He opened his eyes to the presence of a man wearing what he immediately identified as one of the doctors, made clear by the clean clothes and robe. He had seen people wearing the uniform ever since he entered the clinic and waited for any news regarding Rory and Shana after being directed by a nurse to wait on a nearby chair. He had been anxiously waiting for this moment, though during the long wait, he must have gone to sleep.

    ¡°Are you Thomas Alonquin?¡± asked the doctor.

    ¡°Y-yes!¡± exclaimed a surprised Thomas. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Are you Mr. Rory Tellian¡¯s friend?"

    ¡°I am. How is he?¡± asked Thomas anxiously.

    The doctor scratched his head. ¡°How do I say this? Normally, someone with that kind of injury will need at least a week to recuperate, even if he was healed by a cleric. He¡¯s¡­well, he¡¯s good to go. He also asks for you.¡±

    Thomas did not really listen to what the doctor said. He was only focused on Rory''s condition. He did not hear the part where he healed much faster than a regular human would.

    "That''s great!" said a brimming Thomas. "Where is he?"

    The doctor simply glanced towards the patient¡¯s area, which was through a double door that led into a room with at least six beds, two of which were occupied. Thomas initially assumed that one of them was occupied by Shana, only to find the sionnach already sitting on the floor beside the bed where Rory was. She was in her animal form, which was a giant fox that was as big as a wolf.

    On the bed was Rory, looking happy and cheerful, a far cry from the condition he was when he was admitted. None of the grievous injuries he suffered the day before were visible, not even any scars. Thomas did not think of this as unusual, considering how he was already assured by the cleric that his healing light would not leave any scars behind.

    ¡°I was just wondering where you''ve been,¡± said the red-haired man upon noticing Thomas. ¡°The doctor said I¡¯m good to go. I asked for you when the doctor told me you''ve been waiting in the reception all night. You should''ve just gone to Bartlett and Princess.¡±

    ¡°How can I?! I¡¯m worried about you, Rory. You almost died back there,¡± said Thomas empathetically. "What were you thinking?! You almost died back there!"

    ¡°The monster''s nothing," said Rory with a smile. "What? Can''t trust good old Rory?"

    Rory¡¯s usual visage of smugness annoyed Thomas. He had always been a risk taker, even before they joined Bartlett and Princess. Even before the cockatrice hunt, Rory had always been a reckless and tough man, especially when it came to protecting Thomas from unsavory people. He could back up that recklessness, as Thomas had never seen him defeated by the people he started a fight with. Sure, he got cuts and bruises, but he never surrendered. The one time he did was to lower his opponent''s guards and attack them. Rory was not above underhanded tactics, which was something that sometimes irked Thomas, who was taught about chivalry and fairness from his childhood. He started to doubt that lesson when, in his two years living among the commoners, he had seen instances where chivalry was not in anyone''s minds, including Rory himself.

    Looking back, if it wasn''t for Rory, Thomas would never be as confident as he is now. He couldn''t shed the trauma he experienced when his family was attacked and massacred in front of him. He couldn''t do anything but cry, unable to even muster any courage to fight back due to fear. If it continued, he would''ve snapped and lost his mind, probably unable to function as a human being.

    But then Rory came into his life, and his fate changed. Rory saved him from the deepest pit of his depression. He snapped him out of it the best way he could: by slapping him and shouting at him. He implored him to be more open, and to accept that there were more than just good and evil in the world. His advice helped Thomas overcame his depression. In two years, Thomas turned his life around. He reminded Rory about it many times since then, and the man did not even say sorry. Not that Thomas demanded it. Still, the ends justified the means.

    Which was why losing Rory would surely remove that progress. Thomas was afraid of losing someone he cared about again. He did not want to be alone. He wasn''t ready for that yet.

    ¡°I¡¯d say don¡¯t do it again,¡± said Thomas after reminiscing about their friendship. ¡°But you¡¯d end up on one of these beds soon enough. You¡¯re lucky one of these doctors happened to be a cleric. If it wasn¡¯t for him, you might be bedridden for a week.¡±

    Rory turned to stare at Thomas. His expression blanked for a moment, but not before Thomas noticed. He let out a smile and said, ¡°Lucky me. Too bad about my clothes. I should''ve packed some more if this is what I''m getting into."

    ¡°That''s what you get for not packing your clothes,¡± said Thomas. "I''ll buy you something comfortable. Try not to rip it again."

    "We have enough money to be worried about clothes, Thomas."

    "Then good luck having to ration the foods we eat."

    That retort surprised Rory, though he let out a hearty laugh. He never thought the young, sheltered former prince had it in him.

    "Get some more rest, okay?" said Thomas before he left with Shana, who followed the young man while glancing at Rory, puzzled by his rapid recovery. They exchanged some looks before she disappeared behind the doors.

    Rory''s smile faded.

    ¡°Sooner or later, I must come clear with Thomas," thought Rory. "But not here. Not now."

    He then noticed one of the doctors who seemed to glance at him several times. Rory could easily tell that he was the one who took care of him, as only he would know how long his injury would need to heal. Rory put his finger on his lips, gesturing the doctor not to tell anyone. The doctor nodded and left the area to tend another patient, although Rory was sure that he still had questions. Rory only hoped that patient-doctor confidentiality existed in Manarithia as it did in Clydeth.

    It would be a shame if he had to silence the doctor for something so trivial.

    <hr>

    Both Bartlett and Henrietta were also puzzled by Rory''s rapid healing once he was dressed and checked out of the hospital. Not only did he heal in less than a day, he was also relatively healthy, unlike Bartlett, who still had his head in bandages, though the concussion was fully healed. Bartlett was intrigued enough to ask him how.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Turns out he knew more than just healing words,¡± commented Rory when asked. "I won''t divulge his secrets. I made a promise. Man, was it unpleasant."

    ¡°How unpleasant, exactly?¡± inquired Bartlett.

    ¡°Imagine the gashes all over your body closing so quickly, forcing your body and brain to compensate. It felt weird, and rather painful. He even warned me that I would have some mobility issues that may last for a day. I hoped it only lasts for several hours, though. Who knows when I''m going to need to fight again."

    "And Shana?" asked Bartlett, turning to the Sionnach. "Did the cleric heal you too?"

    ¡°The same one,¡± said Shana. ¡°Having a fox form helps."

    Unseen by anyone, she exchanged a quick glance with Rory when the rest of the party were not looking, silently agreeing not to tell anyone.

    "In any case, we should talk about something more pressing," said Henrietta. "What did you hear that distresses you, Bartlett?"

    "I suggest we don''t concern ourselves too much about it," said Bartlett. "Ottimar''s full of rumormongers it''s hard to discern which are facts or not. There''s no reason to believe that''s the case. Still, the rumors of Aldimar being attacked...it certainly is distressing. I live in that town with a personal friend. I can''t help but worry."

    ¡°We won¡¯t know anything about it until we confirm it with our own eyes,¡± said Rory.

    "You''re right," said Bartlett. "But it''s better we go to Aldimar as soon as we can."

    They all agreed on what Bartlett said and continued their journey to Aldimar, occasionally talking about the rapid healing of both Rory and Shana, along with the concerns of how the war with Wyrith had developed. Henrietta decided to just listen to the conversation but was also troubled by her involvement in the whole thing. Her enemies knew that she was a Wyrithian princess and would target her if they knew where to look. If Aldimar, as rumored, turned out to be attacked because of her presence, then she must stay away from it. She did not wish for the people of Aldimar to suffer because of her presence.

    She was pondering about her decision the previous day of not telling Thomas the truth of who she really was. Maybe it was better to just come clean with him and everyone who were suffering because of her. This resolve, however, was still impeded by her own reluctance.

    Shana noticed Henrietta¡¯s silence. She could tell that the dragon''s troubled from her expression; it wasn¡¯t hard determining a dragon¡¯s expression if one was a beast person. She wanted to talk with Henrietta about it, but she knew whatever they were going to talk about would surely reveal Henrietta''s secret.

    So they kept silent through the travel, which grew uncomfortable.

    After several hours of travel, they finally saw Aldimar from the top of the hills. At first glance, nothing seemed to be amiss. That soon changed when Rory spotted two dragons flying towards them.

    ¡°We¡¯re not in trouble, are we?¡± asked Rory, pointing at the approaching dragons.

    ¡°They¡¯re part of the town¡¯s guards,¡± explained Bartlett. ¡°Let me do the talking.¡±

    The two dragons landed nearby and lowered their bodies, allowing their riders to climb down their backs, still in full flying gear. They took off their helmets and held them on their sides.

    ¡°Good evening, riders,¡± greeted Bartlett as he approached the two riders.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± said one of the riders. ¡°I suggest you don''t proceed further. There has been an accident."

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± asked Bartlett.

    ¡°Well, accident is not the right word," said the other rider. "Sabotage''s more like it. Wyrithian saboteurs hijacked a Jubari ship and blew it at the docks. It contaminated the dock with something dangerous.¡±

    ¡°What kind of contamination?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. Whatever it is, we can¡¯t clean it without the help of the mages. We also need to find the perpetrators. They shifted off the ship after letting the ship crash to the docks. The mages stationed in Aldimar told us that they would not shift far, not with the interference caused by the dangerous material."

    "Is Rodvar Rodinson okay?" asked Bartlett. "His workshop is by the docks."

    "May I ask who you are?" asked one of the riders.

    "I''m Bartlett Evans. You know who I am."

    The two riders looked at one another, surprised by his name.

    ¡°Then you should go and help," said one of the riders. "I won''t try and downplay the situation, given that you''re Bartlett Evans. The perpetrators are dangerous and we have our hands full trying to deal with the crashed ship."

    "Then we''ll help," said Bartlett. "Go back to what you''re doing before."

    The riders both nodded in silence before putting on their helmets and climbed on their dragons¡¯ backs. Without any audible command, the dragons immediately flew away, leaving the four of them to contemplate their warning.

    "You seem to be famous," remarked Rory. "They immediately let you through upon hearing your name."

    "It''s nothing important," said Bartlett. "Dealing with whatever''s happening is more important."

    They all agreed with Bartlett''s remark. They all hastily climbed on top of Henrietta¡¯s back as she quickly ran towards the town.

    Aldimar, as Bartlett and Henrietta knew it, was a lively port town that gave Henrietta her first sight of a normal life as a commoner. Now, it was not as welcoming, with the part of the town they arrived in deserted, and many more ran in the opposite direction from where they came. Whatever happened at the docks had clearly panicked many of the people.

    Bartlett climbed down Henrietta¡¯s back and said, ¡°We need to find Rodvar and the gnolls.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you,¡± said Shana. ¡°You need magickal backup against the invaders.¡±

    Bartlett stared at her, unsure whether she could be trusted. Shana, sensing this, then added, ¡°Anyone who can phase shift is a potential magickal threat. You won¡¯t last long without someone who can help with that. I will not betray you. You have my words, Bartlett Evans.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your words,¡± said Bartlett, after overcoming his reluctance. ¡°Just prove it with your actions."

    Shana nodded as Bartlett ran, with her following closely in her animal form, leaving the other three behind.

    ¡°Right,¡± said Thomas. ¡°We should try and help however we can. Princess, will you be fine if we ask people to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Scratch that,¡± interrupted Rory, his tone serious. ¡°Here they come.¡±

    Thomas was initially confused, but quickly found the reason for what.

    Several humans walked out into view, all with their eyes trained at them. They all carried weapons, ranging from spears to swords to crossbows. Henrietta also noticed several more showing up on the roofs of some of the homes, all wielding crossbows trained at them.

    ¡°But¡­they¡¯re just civilians,¡± said Thomas with a surprised tone. ¡°Does that mean the accident was¡­?¡±

    ¡°A diversion,¡± said Rory. ¡°While everyone''s trying to find the ones on the ship, they neglected to find those who are already in the town to begin with. They must have known who she is.¡±

    Henrietta tensed as a confused Thomas asked, ¡°Who are you talking about? Who''s she?"

    ¡°Princess. Who else? There is something you need to know, Thomas. She¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish his sentence, one of the men dashed towards Rory with incredible speed, more than what a human was capable of. He was already drawing his dagger and went to try and stab Rory. But Rory also showcased a heightened sense and reaction when he managed to grab his attacker¡¯s wrist before the dagger¡¯s blade could even reach him. He kicked the man in the solar plexus while grabbing the dagger on his hand. He went flying to a wall several feet away. That, however, did not injure the man whatsoever. In fact, he was unscathed.

    Or so it seemed at first. The group noticed that his feet were not human, but were beastly and covered in scales. The rest of his skin also sagged. It was as if they lost their tension and started to come loose. That was followed by the skin ripping apart like fabric, revealing something reptilian that emerged from beneath the human skin. He shed his human skin, revealing a lizard kind with green scales and big, yellow eyes, complete with a long tail and a pair of digitigrade legs. Once his form was truly revealed, he let out a threatening hiss.

    ¡°Oh, no¡­,¡± said Thomas. He never thought he would see one of them again, not after what happened two years ago. "Not again."

    ¡°It¡¯s them,¡± said Henrietta. Her voice was deep and menacing, barely disguising the anger building up inside her. She growled, with her eyes glaring at the lizard person. His eyes caught her glare, intimidating him enough for him to hiss back.

    "Sybarians," said Rory, who entered a fighting stance. "Corrupted ones. I wouldn''t hesitate against you assholes, so why don''t you guys take off your skins and be done with it so I can beat the shit out of you for being idiots?"

    They all looked at each other, momentarily confused by Rory''s claims. Rory took the silence as an answer.

    Without warning, Rory ran towards the ''humans'', letting out a yell that made clear his feeling of them.

 Chapter 22

    Bartlett and Shana squeezed through the crowd, Bartlett excusing himself as he got closer and closer to the commotion until he managed to get out into the open and witness the full extent of the disaster. Whatever the dragon riders implied were not exaggerated; the docks were practically inaccessible due to the dark, miasmic cloud that covered the sea. It threatened to spill inland but was stopped by some magick probes set hastily by the handful of mages that were presently in Aldimar.

    He silently admired their efforts despite the limitations, and quickly turned towards where Rodvar''s workshop was. It was not far from where he and Shana found themselves, though navigating to that area was made difficult by the barricades. His quick thinking concluded that they should go up through the roof, where there was practically no barricades and because there were pathways on the roof, too.

    Aldimar¡¯s architecture, unique even for Manarithian standards, was made with leisure in mind. Easy roof access from ground floor were made by white staircases that could be found on the sides of most buildings. Most of which were not restricted, so Bartlett and Shana could just pick a random staircase to get to the top of the building, which had a flat roof and were usually decorated by plants, gardens, and seats.

    The view from the roof painted a clear view of the extent of the disaster. A ship, big enough to be considered a galleon, crashed by the docks and sank, spilling its content to the bay. It was also split in half. Only an explosion could have done that. The more pressing issue was the low, black fog that obscured most of the docks and threatened the port area, only stopped by the efforts of the mages. He could see some bodies, unfortunate people who couldn''t escape the initial spread of the dark fog.

    ¡°Ashe¡¯s mercy,¡± said Shana upon seeing the site. ¡°It''s as if they loaded the whole ship with it."

    ¡°They have clearly planned for this," said Bartlett. "Nobody suspected a Jubari ship to be loaded with dangerous cargo, let alone something that oozes out dark magick."

    Bartlett started looking around. Soon, he found what he was searching for and pointed at it.

    "I found his workshop. Come on, Shana."

    Shana nodded and ran with Bartlett through several rooftops, joined together by planks or sturdy wooden bridges people built. There were other spectators watching the situation, some voiced their concerns while others were optimistic that the mages could deal with it.

    Along the way, Bartlett started reminiscing. While the view towards the port was undoubtedly soiled by the disaster, it was never that way before. From the rooftops, the beach and the port were in full view, along with the sunset. He usually had a meal he brought to any picnic tables on the public areas on the roof just to enjoy the sunsets on clear days.

    Yet, there were more than just that. It was also where he declared his taste for adventures. The vast sea and horizon beyond the lighthouse cape inspired him to travel far to make a name for himself. Rodvar was always there to join him on his declarations, dismissive at first, but slowly warming up to that idea, which led to their adventure, one where they met interesting people.

    He knew that story had to end somewhere, and it ended on a sour note. Bartlett must content with the fact that he fought in a war, one that made him lost his optimism and realize the true horrors of being an adventurer in a conflict-laden land. The tragedy he suffered and the heartbreak that followed proved too much for him to the point where he stopped his adventures and began searching for money, which could only be found mostly by slaying dragons. For a Manarithian, it was a disgraceful work. He kept this fact secret from everyone he knew, as no one wanted to believe that their hero fell so hard to the point he had to become a dragon slayer. Thankfully, he only managed to get three dragon slaying jobs before Henrietta, as it was so unpopular not many would want to take the job. That''s why it was relegated to Wyrith, where it wasn''t considered a taboo to slay dragons. In the ten years since he lost interest in adventuring, he took local jobs that paid well.

    He stopped reminiscing when Rodvar''s workshop was in sight. It was no use thinking about the past when he couldn''t change it. All he could do was to be glad that Henrietta saved him from the deep end.

    He and Shana climbed down a flight of stairs that led to an alley, from which the workshop was in full view. Once there, he rushed to the store, hoping that Rodvar was alright. Instead, he stumbled upon a person, who looked up at the wooden signs before she turned her attention to the newcomers upon hearing her footsteps.

    It was clear from her appearance that she wasn''t a local beast person. She was a feline person, more specifically, a cheetah person called the Kal''Adre. If her tail and fur pattern were not indicative enough, her lithe, feline face, along with orange, feline eyes, were enough to convince people that she was a foreign beast person. Anyone who recognized cheetahs would recognize Kal''Adres.

    It would be difficult to distinguish between one beast person or another unless they were a fellow beast person. There was nothing human in their face structure, making it difficult for other races to discern one from the other. Yet, Bartlett could immediately tell who she was. He had lived among them long enough to start seeing any subtle differences that could identify them, such as fur pattern, mane, eye shape, maw shape, and more.

    He would not be able to easily forget the face of a cheetah person he once loved.

    ¡°Ellie,¡± said Bartlett with a sigh, though not of relief. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d meet you here.¡±

    ¡°Bartlett Evans,¡± said Ellie with a sniff. ¡°I should¡¯ve known you¡¯d be around. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Rodvar, obviously,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°Who else?¡±

    The tension in their conversation did not escape Shana¡¯s attention. Ellie, the Kal''Adre, clearly saw Bartlett in a negative light, one made clear by her subtle growl of displeasure.

    "Someone you know?" asked Shana.

    ¡°She¡¯s Eliani. It¡¯s¡­complicated.¡±

    ¡°It talked?¡± asked a surprised Ellie before she turned her attention back to Bartlett. ¡°Calling it ''complicated'' is generalizing it. You''re the one who walk away."

    ¡°I know, and I''m sorry,¡± said Bartlett. He reluctantly set aside his feelings to return to the main issue. ¡°But we can talk about that later. You haven¡¯t told me why you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here because of your damned war!¡± Eliani shouted, barely able to hold back her anger. ¡°damn your politics, Bartlett. It¡¯s because of your war I got myself into this mess, and you!¡±

    ¡°Did the Wyrithians...?"

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    ¡°Who else?! That shipwreck was supposed to transport Rogarian refugees, but then those bastards hijacked it and made it into an explosive full of those dreaded ghost powder! You can''t just fight your own war, you just have to involve us!"

    Eliani¡¯s sharp predator fangs and bared claws were clear enough for Bartlett to tell him that she was incensed by him. Clearly, she was incensed by many reasons, one of which happened to be the way they split up. Again, Bartlett could talk to her later, when she isn''t too emotional to the point where he would have to heal himself from her bite and claws.

    Right now, she should know why they did what they did. Aside from Rodvar, she was the only other person he could trust. They may be far from being friends, but that trust was still present.

    ¡°I know why they''re here, Ellie," he said. "I harbor their enemy. They must have tried to lure her out by causing this disaster."

    ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth,¡± added Shana. ¡°He harbors a Wyrithian princess. Those hijackers must have been part of the insurgency that wished to kill the last true claimant to the throne.¡±

    ¡°What she said,¡± said Bartlett, though personally he knew it was not true. ¡°You need to trust me, Ellie. I know we need to talk. This takes more precedence than that. I need your help. Please."

    Eliani growled, but she begrudgingly accepted that Bartlett was right.

    ¡°Damn you, Bartlett,¡± she said. ¡°I shouldn''t have waited for Rodvar. I don¡¯t even want to be involved with you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°This is my fault. I''m sorry. But I have an obligation, and I''m sorry you have to be involved.¡±

    ¡°You have a good point,¡± said Eliani, convinced by what Bartlett said. ¡°Tell me what is going on. Just so we¡¯re clear, Bartlett, we have been separated for ten years. I don''t need to trust any of your words."

    ¡°Trust me, then,¡± said a familiar voice. They all turn to see Rodvar, covered in black soot. He seemed exhausted.

    ¡°Rodvar?!¡± said Bartlett. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°The dark fog happened, lad. It''s the same one the Clydethians are having trouble with up north. And Eliani. Acroos Tamul."

    ¡°Akhrus tamal (Welcome),¡± corrected Eliani, before she let out a toothy smile. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you, Rodvar. You haven¡¯t changed at all.¡±

    ¡°Ten years is like a breeze for dwarves, lass,¡± said Rodvar with a chuckle. ¡°You have grown yourself. You look wiser.¡±

    The two embraced one another, exchanging pleasantries, while Bartlett waited on the sidelines with Shana, feeling a little awkward. Once the two finished, he decided to continue with the explanation.

    ¡°Rodvar,¡± said Bartlett. ¡°Tell her about Henrietta.¡±

    Rodvar looked at Bartlett and, while glad to know that he had come home, was quick to discard any attempts to greet the human once he saw how serious his expression was.

    ¡°Are you sure, lad?¡± asked Rodvar.

    "He''s sure about it," said Shana. "Her presence caused all this."

    Rodvar, initially confused by the presence of a talking fox, quickly got over his confusion and assumed that Bartlett found an interesting traveling companion.

    "You do realize it''s unfair for Henrietta, right?"

    "No one wants to be the cause of the problem, but she has no choice. Tell Ellie. She trusts you more than she trusts me at this point."

    "He said he harbors a Wyrithian princess, and that there are insurgents that are trying to kill her," said Eliani. "I assume you know about this too, then?"

    "Ah," he said, stroking his beard. "There''s no point keeping it a secret for long. Yes, he is correct about it. Henrietta is the princess you''re looking for. However, the situation is more complicated than you might think."

    "Complicated how?" asked Eliani.

    "You see, lass, the princess was cursed. Right now, she is not a human."

    "We broke the seal to her fire," said Bartlett, with Shana nodding in agreement. "But we haven''t found out how to deal with her other curse."

    "Her curse?" asked Eliani.

    "Well, you see, Ellie...." Bartlett rubbed the back of his head. "She''s cursed into a dragon."

    Bartlett half-expected Eliani to stare at him in disbelief and bursting into laughter from how ridiculous it sounded. Yet, he noticed that, while she did stare at him in disbelief, she was not laughing. He then wondered if she thought the statement was so ridiculous it was insulting. Eliani was not actually the kind of person who would accept that kind of notion.

    "He''s telling the truth, lass," said Rodvar, once he understood that Eliani needed to be convinced. "It doesn''t feel right, breaking a promise to her. But you need to know."

    "A princess cursed into a dragon," said Eliani, trying to confirm it herself. "I''d dismiss it as a joke, but knowing both of you, that doesn''t seem to be the case."

    "We''re not in the mood for a joke," said Bartlett. "Not with the disaster out there and the fact that Wyrithians have invaded. Rodvar, where are your assistants? The gnolls?"

    "You harbored Rogarians?" asked a surprised Eliani.

    "I am," replied Rodvar short. "And don''t you say it''s wrong, lass. You being here is proof of that."

    "I''m not judging you. I mean, after Rogaria, I...."

    "I''m glad you have the same idea," said Rodvar, smiling under his bushy beard. He then turn to Bartlett and said, "Boluti and his wife are safe. They''re helping the constables with the survivors, working as their translator. They''ll be taken care of, Eliani. Those two will do what''s necessary."

    Eliani replied with a nod, a silent thank you to her oldest friend.

    "Well, that''s great, then," said Bartlett. "Come on, Shana. We should go back to Henrietta and the others."

    Shana suddenly perked up her head before turning towards the direction where they came from. She was agitated by something, and Eliani could immediately tell.

    "The princess...she''s in trouble," she declared.

    "What?" said Bartlett in disbelief. "How can you tell?"

    As if confirming what Shana had just declared, several people ran at their direction, screaming and shouting in panic of something. Shana looked at the alley, as if trying to clarify her claim, only to look away in surprise when she felt something else. Something dangerous.

    Something primal.

    "No, this isn''t possible," said Shana. "Magick of this magnitude...it can''t be possible...."

    Bartlett, disregarding her astonishment, asked, "Shana, what happened to Henrietta?"

    "She''s in trouble, lad!" cried Rodvar as he grabbed a nearby sledgehammer, the only weapon he could find in such short notice. "That''s all we need to know. Ellie!"

    Eliani was confused and full of questions, but she did not hesitate when Rodvar called her name with such authority and desperation. She immediately readied her bow and followed the dwarf through the alley. Bartlett followed behind, with Shana close by, although she immediately passed Bartlett, then both Rodvar and Eliani, owing to her four legs.

    They ran through the back alleys and main roads, essentially cutting through Aldimar. The town''s unusual road structure, architecture, and geography made traversing through the town much more complicated as it should, with only the rooftops providing a more direct route. This was something that they quickly noticed once Rodvar found that they found themselves needing to go around a building just to go straight.

    Just as they were reaching for the stairs, Eliani''s ears caught an unusual call. It sounded unlike anything she had ever encountered before, though it was similar to a bird call, though it sounded like a croak and a growl. She stopped on her tracks just as a crossbow bolt landed right in front of her, causing her to react by drawing out her bow. She readied an arrow and looked around the roof and the alleyway.

    Her attention was quickly drawn towards Bartlett when he tapped her shoulder and pointed forward, joining both the human and the dwarf in expressing their surprise.

    A group of people of unknown race surrounded them. They were all reptilian in appearance, some with frills, others with horns, each with different, muted scale color reminiscent of dragons. Their heads were bestial with a snout, complete with reptilian eyes. For Bartlett, seeing them felt like the first time he had ever met a beast person. The only resemblance they had with humans were their body proportions, intellect, and more importantly, sapience and culture. The rest were reminiscent of the beast they were based on.

    Yet the reptilian people confronting them were so different from what he expected. He had heard of the serpent people of the far east, but these reptilian people did not resemble any snake he knew. He was aware of the region further down south, where thick jungles grew it hot and humid environment, was still unexplored. They may have originated from there, considering that the area was too hostile for adventurers and were poorly documented.

    His wondering was interrupted when he heard threatening hisses, growls, and clicking sounds. His attention returned to the present situation, where the lizard people bared their claws and teeth, some readied short swords, others their crossbows. He reminded himself that this was not the time to be in awe.

    They confronted them with hostile intentions. They wouldn''t let them go without a fight. With this in mind, Bartlett raised his shield and readied himself for a battle.

 Chapter 23

    ¡°Well, what are you waiting for, then?¡± taunted Rory. ¡°Come and get some!¡±

    Rory could hear them hiss in response, followed by them brandishing their weapons. They did not seem to question why a human like him was not intimidated by their unusual visage. That did not change the fact that Rory still held the upper hand.

    He was allied with a dragon that could breathe fire and was once a human princess who lost everything to them. She should not hesitate against these reptilian enemies.

    "Have they...have they already infiltrated this kingdom already?" asked Thomas, who recognized them. He was not as terrified at them as he was two years ago. However, the fact they showed themselves made it clear that they, like two years ago, had planted themselves among the Manarithians like they did his family

    "I''m sure they have," said Rory. "But I doubt this is their true plan."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Aldimar''s hardly an important enough city to invade, but it can cause quite a distraction. They simply dropped their disguises once they heard about the dragon."

    "How...do you know so much about them?" asked a surprised Thomas.

    "I have my reasons," said Rory. "When the time is right, I will explain everything. Now, stop talking and listen to me. Focus on support roles and let me and Princess fight them. Now, whatever you do, be aware of your surroundings and stay out of the way. Don''t try and fight them. Your snap-cast is fast, but they''re faster. Understand?"

    Thomas nodded. Rory acknowledged his understanding then turned to Henrietta.

    "You ready, Princess?" he asked.

    "Always am," said Henrietta with a deep, menacing growl.

    as Rory rushed into the battle. Thomas considered him reckless for rushing against enemies that were clearly armed and dangerous, but he had always known him to be acting that way.

    Thomas prepared his defensive spells, though he couldn''t help but notice the dragon''s agitation. From what Thomas could remember from the draconology books he read, an agitated dragon had very thin pupils along with a snarl that showed rows of their teeth. If the dragon was a fire-breathing dragon, smoke would also come out of their nostrils. She showed all those signs towards those Sybarians. It was as if she was angered by their presence.

    "Princess," said Thomas, attempting to calm her.

    "What?" said the dragon. Her raspy, deep voice was cold and full of rage.

    "I''m counting on you. I''ll stay out of you and Rory''s way."

    "Do what you must do," said the dragon. "I will gladly tear their limbs if it means protecting you."

    Thomas gulped. A dragon was already a beast of its own. A talking dragon who could voice her thoughts was even more terrifying.

    Thomas immediately returned his attention to Rory, who had begun engaging the Sybarian enemies. He did not rush towards, but instead kept his distance. One of the Sybarians rushed towards him, snarling when he did. Rory retaliated with a well-placed kick to the Sybarian''s throat, disabling him and exposing his back. Rory then proceeded to grab the Sybarian''s head and twisted it. There was an audible crack as the Sybarian''s lifeless body fell to the ground.

    The other Sybarians were less than astonished by Rory''s feat. This action would only serve to make them change their strategy. They immediately rushed at him all at once, forcing Rory on a defensive, only helped by Thomas''s magick armor he cast around his friend.

    Some of them managed to get through Rory, rushing towards both Thomas and Henrietta. He readied a spell to defend himself, but Princess got him covered. The moment one of them rushed towards him, the dragon snatched the lizard person with matching speed. She did not hesitate to slam the Sybarian to the ground. There were blood flying everywhere when the Sybarian was crushed under Henrietta''s weight.

    She burned the hapless Sybarian with her fire. At the same time, Thomas noticed crossbowmen on some of the roof, all Sybarians. He immediately used his barrier to change the fire''s trajectory, using it to burn the enemies on the roof. It wasn''t very accurate, so Thomas hoped that the fire made them busy trying to put out the fire.

    Unfortunately, it did not stop or distract them. They stayed among the fire, disregarding the burning building to keep their aim. Henrietta let out a burst of fresh fire towards them, finally engulfing them in flame.

    Rory managed to find an opening against his opponents when they were distracted by the agonized screams from the burning Sybarians. He kicked one of the Sybarian''s leg, breaking it and the Sybarian to kneel. Rory then simply broke his kneeling opponent''s neck, and started engaging the remaining two. They were agitated by yet another loss. Rory capitalized on this. Showcasing his superior martial arts skills, he did a roundhouse kick that threw them back, then proceeded to rush towards one of the Sybarians that recovered first.

    Within seconds, Rory blasted him away again with an enhanced shoulder check that was already devastating without the energy enhancement. This threw the Sybarian to a brick wall, violently crashing through it. It would not be enough to kill him, but it could at least put him out of the fight. The other Sybarian, undeterred by this showcase, was hit by a palm strike that struck his chin, knocking him out.

    Rory quickly looked around to see who''s next. While many of them were shocked, they did not back down. What Rory did only convince them that his understanding of Sybarian anatomy proved that either he studied them, or he was more than his human visage suggested. They looked at each other and let out chirping, clicking noises, before pulling out shortswords of intricate design. Rory recognized the swords. They could easily rend through flesh with their serrated edges. Hopefully, Thomas kept the magick armor up, or else he would be too injured to fight.

    "Hmm?" Rory realized something. He could understand their language. Those chirps and clicks were audible enough to reveal a rather disturbing fact.

    "Princess, watch out!" he exclaimed, turning towards the dragon. "They''re onto you! Don''t let them catch you with their anti-draconic weapons."

    A surprised chirp came out from one of the Sybarians. Rory could tell that he was surprised that Rory could tell what they were saying. Another Sybarian let out some aggressive vocalization, as if cursing Rory with their language.

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    "You''re the one turning your backs against everyone," retorted Rory.

    This retort agitated one of them into attacking Rory, just as he had planned.

    "A slash with an arc," thought Rory as he assessed the Sybarian''s attack. He dodged appropriately. Another slashing attack, one Rory could already predict. He dodged and prepared himself for the third attack. The slash came as predicted, which he immediately counter with a grab on the Sybarian''s wrist. He squeezed hard, but soon realized his mistake. The Sybarian was tougher than a human or a beast person. Thankfully, he had time to rectify his mistake.

    Rory kicked the Sybarian''s digitigrade leg, causing him to lose his footing. With finesse, the man threw the Sybarian over his shoulder, causing him to slam his back hard onto the floor. It wasn''t as powerful as what the dragon did, but it was enough to disorient the Sybarian enough to loosen his grip on his sword. Rory grabbed the sword and slashed the Sybarian''s throat. The serrated blade was designed to penetrate a Sybarian''s scales, so its results was as grisly as it would a knife to a soft, human throat. The Sybarian was left gurgling as he held his clawed hands on his wound, attempting to stop the bleeding. Rory did not even bother to put him out of his misery. He was more concerned with the Sybarian''s plan towards Henrietta.

    He looked around, but soon came upon one of the undamaged roofs. The crossbowmen were a distraction. There were more of them hiding away until they found the right opportunity. Worse, they disguised themselves as humans, which means they were beyond anyone''s attention. What made it even more complicated was the fact that this was not exclusively a Sybarian attack. There were also collaborators that belonged to the known races.

    These hidden opponents were preparing ballista while the others were distracting or attempting to dispatch the oppositions. It was loaded with a bolt big enough to puncture the sides of a wooden ship. However, given its position inland, and where it was trained at, their presence could only mean one thing.

    "Princess! Get--"

    Rory was a fraction of a second too late. One of the ballista let loose a bolt that flew towards the distracted dragon. It hit its target, one of her hindlegs, penetrating her soft draconic scales. Yet, there was more to the bolt that met the eye.

    The tip of the bolt suddenly opened, revealing itself to be an anchor. It was immediately pulled back by a winch, digging deep into the dragon''s hindleg, causing her to lose her balance.

    Henrietta could only roar in unbearable pain. It was beyond anything she had ever felt before. No amount of sword wounds could prepare her for this. Her suffering also caused Thomas, who was nearby, to be stunned and loss of thoughts. He did not realize that the assailants that he had been trying to avoid rushed towards him, knowing that his support made it difficult for them achieve dominance in the fight.

    Rory saw this and ran towards Thomas, but realized that he was not going to make it. He was at the other end of the battlefield while Thomas was supposedly at the safest place in the battlefield, which was already compromised by the fact that Henrietta was incapacitated by the pain and her anchored hindleg. As he ran towards them, he wondered if they always knew the dragon was Henrietta, and waited until the right moment to strike. Perhaps one of their spies recognized her striking appearance, and informed their allies to prepare while she was away.

    He shouldn''t let his mind wander like that. Thomas was in danger. He was still too inexperienced and too easily distracted. Rory cursed himself for not being assertive enough, but what good would that do to a once broken man as Thomas? What he did would only push him towards the deep end.

    "I guess this is it," thought Rory. "He''ll hate me later. But I must save him. I swore to protect him. I will not back out of it. That is not the way of a Dromedian."

    Rory kept sprinting towards Thomas, pushing past the limit of his human disguise. His legs, once humans, literally exploded to reveal a pair of digitigrade, reptilian legs, each tipped with a hooked claw that pointed upwards. His tail, partially covered in bright red feathers, sprout out next, as if freed from the constraints of the human skin. This loss of integrity caused the rest of his disguise to fail, which literally exploded out to reveal something different underneath. At the same time, he reached Thomas. He tackled the human out of the way, exposing his shoulder towards one of the human enemies.

    He grunted as he felt the the sharp edge of the blade dug into his flesh, drawing blood. He was only saved from something worse by his tougher muscle. The surprised ambushers stopped at their tracks, with Rory hissing at them menacingly before he began his counter-attack.

    With the loss of his human disguise, Rory could do one thing he had always wanted to do: a proper tail-whip, one that was not a low sweep technique called the ''dragon tail kick''. His tail was tougher than a human''s, and he trained it as well as the rest of his limbs. He used it to trip one of his enemies, causing him to lose balance, where Rory finished him off with claws that ripped his throat out.

    Rory viciously tore through the rest of the attackers, still showcasing his agility and martial arts skills. It was their fault not wearing an armor against a Sybarian. Then again, they did not expect a Sybarian, or rather, a Dromedian, to be working against them. In just a couple of seconds, the situation turned against them.

    Rory sighed before his attention turned towards the dragon, who by now had already dealt with the pain and started to fight back. She was pulling against the anchored bolt with all her might, pulling off one of the ballista that she was anchored to. That, however, quickly turned against her when two more heavy crossbows appeared and preparing to shoot their anchoring bolts at the dragon, which they did moments later. One of them pierced through one of her wings, while the other missed. The anchor tore through her wing membrane as it was being pulled, latching at her wing bone once its settled. She couldn''t pull away, her strength sapped by the pain coursing through her body. How could it be far more painful than when she was disemboweled? That moment was already painful enough to remember. Now, something even worse managed to top that.

    "Shit! She''s not going to make it!" cried Rory. "Thomas, attack those ballista on the roof! Do--"

    He was stopped by Thomas, who already casted the fire spell Rory wanted. But instead of doing what he ought to do, he was pointing it at Rory. Rory couldn''t act confused; this was one of many consequences that he had anticipated. The timing, however, was not right.

    "Goddamn it, Thomas, this isn''t the time!" said Rory, panic apparent in his voice.

    "What did you do to Rory?!" said Thomas. He was denying the fact. "How long have you been impersonating him?!"

    "Rory never existed!" said Rory, desperation evident in his voice. "You can do whatever you want to me, but help the dragon first!"

    "Don''t change the topic, bastard! What did you do to Rory?! Did you skin him alive?! Revel in his agony while you take on his face?!"

    "What?! I''m not a sick freak!" lashed an insulted Rory. "I''m Rory! I didn''t take someone else''s face! I molded this form myself!"

    "My family was killed by the people they trusted for years!" cried Thomas. "Don''t you dare say it otherwise! I knew what I saw! They wore the faces of our people like it''s a mask! You must''ve did the same to Rory!"

    "Oh, for the love of...." Rory was annoyed. Thomas was being overwhelmed by his trauma. The Dromedian clearly underestimated the effect shedding his disguise did to humans, more so to someone who had just seen his beloved family got killed by these people. To him, they were the same as demons. Perhaps Rory looked like one to him, which was made worse by his red feathers.

    Knowing the situation was dire, Rory gave up on trying to talk it out. He grabbed Thomas''s arm, surprising the young mage, then punched him, aware that his claws could leave a very prominent set of scars on his soft, human face. Thomas was going to retaliate, but Rory, channeling all his frustration and anger, said, "Enough!"

    Thomas was shocked and immediately became silent. Once again, he was at the mercy of a reptilian person. He clearly couldn''t escape them for long. However, this one was acting differently. Instead of hissing at him, he glared at him with his sharp, reptilian eyes, while his claws gripped on his shirt collar. He snarled at him, showing his row of sharp teeth among his beak-like maws.

    "Listen to me, you little shit," said Rory. He did not even mince his words. He needed Thomas to listen to him, even if he had to swear.

    "You are going to make the worst mistake of your life," said Rory. "You are going to kill your sister again because of your foolishness, so do as I fucking say!"

    "Sister?" asked a confused Thomas.

    "Princess is your sister!" he exclaimed. "Her name is Henrietta! Now are you going to help her or not?!"

 Chapter 24

    Pain. She was never used to it.

    Henrietta''s consciousness started to drift as pain overwhelmed her senses. Her body was no longer able to function due to the pain. No, it was not just the pain. There was something else in there.

    Poison? Probably.

    She laid on her own pool of blood, legs and wings pulled apart. She felt like a strung-up game. Such an unbecoming thing for a dragon to be. But what she could do? Her body refused to listen to her, and her consciousness was drifting away. When she finally went to sleep, it might as well be the last sleep she ever had.

    She cheated death once. Perhaps that''s one too many for it.

    But before she could give up to fate and let death take her, something happened. Something that reinvigorate her.

    Thomas stood in front of her, fighting against the Sybarians that were trying to take her away. He fought valiantly, but he had his limits. If he died, her sacrifice would be all for naught.

    She needed power. She regained her fire back, but she was immediately defeated by the same enemies that ruined her life. She did not care about that. All she cared about was to ensure that Thomas survived. She must prevail.

    And to do that she must draw her anger. Draw every ounce of rage and vengeance inside her against these Sybarians. They ruined her life, and she would ruin theirs in return.

    Unbeknownst to her, or perhaps she wasn''t even aware of it, there was a spark within her soul. A spark that would preclude the fire that would burn as bright and be as malleable as water. She would not know about it, for her consciousness was already drifting away before she realized what she was doing.

    All those bottled feelings soon burst out of her all over her body, and the fire that she spewed before came to life to deal with most of the Sybarians around her, while sparing those who she cared about. She did this, barely conscious of what she was doing.

    Not realizing it before she was gone.

    <hr>

    "Is that...is that all of them?"

    Bartlett asked amidst his shortness of breath. He, Eliani, Rodvar, and Shana had just killed the Sybarians ambushing them. It was a grueling fight, one that they survived only because of Shana''s disorentation-focused spells. It did not work as well as it was towards the known races, but there was a very good reason why.

    "Damn lizards used Vyrnian magick to counter my charms," said Shana. "Good thing you two are such great fighters yourselves."

    "Even without that magick, they were still relentless warriors," said Eliani."Our victory is hard-fought. If this isn''t the last of them, I doubt we''d survive."

    "I''d really appreciate a vote of confidence," said Bartlett, sarcastically. "But you have a point."

    "We are wasting too much time here," said Shana. Bartlett looked at her and wanted to thank her for being the one that gave them the advantage. Her magick may not be the most combat-oriented, but it was enough to cause confusion amongst the dangerous reptilian opponents they faced. Granted, it didn''t work as effectively as they had hoped, but it was good enough.

    But they had no time to dawdle. A roar got their attention. For the rest of them, the roar was just like any beast''s, but Eliani thought differently. The cat people of the desert made similar roars, as did the beasts that roamed the region. She could easily tell that something was wrong from it.

    "That beast is in pain," said Eliani. Without saying anything else, she dashed away from her allies, quickly leaving them behind owing to her feline agility. Only Shana was able to keep up. Bartlett and Rodvar followed behind, with Bartlett intentionally slowing down so his dwarven friend could keep up.

    It was only after he heard the roar one more time did Bartlett recognized who it belonged to.

    "Henrietta," he declared. "That''s Henrietta! How did they find out?"

    "We spoke in the open, lad," said Rodvar. "Someone with better ears must''ve listened in."

    "Damn it."

    "Ya can''t blame y''self for somethin'' ya can''t control, lad," assured the dwarf. "C''mon. The lassies are beatin'' us already. We need to get to her soon. I doubt she made those roars because she wants to."

    The two of them ran as fast as they could, chasing Eliani and Shana whose digitigrade legs carried them much faster than the human and the dwarf. The cheetah woman, in particular, was much faster than Shana, and was very agile, managing to keep herself moving despite the obstacles. She leaped, rolled, and even crawled like an animal, but she never stopped. It blurred the line between the beast and the person.

    Shana managed to keep up only because she was in her feral form. She doubted she could catch up in her beast person form. She was never an agile runner when standing on two legs. Maybe if she trained herself, she could, but she trained herself in magick, not acrobatics.

    Shana''s musing was cut short by the same feeling that alerted her of Henrietta''s predicament. This time, something dangerous was coming. She immediately shouted, "Stop!" towards Eliani, who fortunately heard her and stopped her run with all her strength.

    Soon enough, a burst of fire, big enough to engulf the whole alleyway, started rushing towards the two. Eliani and Shana quickly found cover just as the fire rushed past them. The heat and the intensity of the fire was enough to leave a mark on the sandstone walls, while also burning off the unprotected plants.

    The fire, however, was not just any fire. With the fire so close to her, she could sense the magick that produced the fire. It overwhelmed her, not because of its sheer magnitude, but for the emotion accompanying it. She was baffled by this. Dragon fire shouldn''t carry emotions. It wasn''t an emotional-based spell. Yet, the fire felt alive. It was as if such primal element was imbued with life. It was the same thing she felt before, one that prompted her to run towards Henrietta.

    It was not just any draconic elements out there. This magick was as ancient and as otherworldly as the faeries. The only one matching it was the magick of the gods. It was the rawest form of fire magick, one that could be molded as easily as one mold clay, but only if they were blessed by the god of fire.

    To think something like this existed baffled Shana enough. It baffled her even more when she realized that it came from a human cursed into a dragon of all things.

    Shana was not the only one who sensed this unusual magick. Bartlett and Rodvar, trailing behind, sensed both the heat and the unusual nature of the fire. Bartlett did not hear anything, but Rodvar did.

    "Lad, wait!" said Rodvar. "Can you hear it?"

    "Hear what?"

    "A whisper. Like the Stones of the Deep."

    "Stone of the Deep?"

    "Dwarven Instinct, lad. Everything has magick, it just depends on which you are more attuned for. For us, it''s the stones."

    "Is that why dwarves make good miners?"

    "Mining efficiency is a different matter, though. This whisper sounds like a mithril stone, but several times denser. This feels like a Deep Stone. It''s ancient, and it caught my instincts."

    Bartlett couldn''t really say anything. Being a human, his senses in anything supernatural was minimal at best. All he had was Rodvar''s words, and he had no reason to not believing in his friends. Yet, he agreed there was something unusual with the fire.

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    "Whatever that is, one thing is certain," said Bartlett. "Someone''s playing with fire. A big fire."

    They continued running, while Shana and Eliani, who managed to stay out of the fire before it stopped, began to move. Along the way, they noticed several people burned by the fire. They undoubtedly did not have time to move when the fire started, but Shana wondered if they were there not because they were innocent bystanders, but in fact Wyrithian invaders who were waiting to strike. Whoever they were, their secrets died with them.

    They soon found themselves in an open area. Almost immediately, both got into cover once they noticed a dozen or so archers on the roof, all of which were reptilian people. They also noticed that they were wrangling something big with ballistae, though the rope was burned off. It was the aftermath of a big battle, one ended by the fire that burned the square and all the grass, turning the area black like soot.

    They both quickly assessed the situation, starting with a pink-scaled dragon that was heavily injured by anchored bolts and was barely conscious. The dragon''s blood soaked the cobblestone path like a puddle, some of it already seeped through the path. She was on her side, her breathing ragged.

    "Ashe''s mercy," said a bewildered Shana. "Henrietta!"

    Eliani couldn''t stop the fox, but what she could do was shot down the remaining reptilian people. She immediately climbed up a nearby stairs, surprising them with several well-placed shot through their chest. They all turned towards her, letting out a hiss, taunting her. She replied by pulling out her daggers. They shimmered unnaturally, as if they had a light source of its own.

    She danced around them, dodging and weaving around her adversaries gracefully, while also plunging one of her dagger through their soft scales. She knew they were tough, but as an experienced hunter, she knew where to cut. It was also helped by the sharpness of her weapons. Her daggers and the arrowhead were sharper than most blades, courtesy of Jubari blacksmiths and alchemists.

    The way she danced around the lizard people, while effortlessly killing them with her silver-colored daggers, along with a snarl that revealed sharp, predatory fangs, were enough to demoralize the archers. In just a short moment, the survivors were strewn all over the roof, all killed by her. She, the predator, was caked in the blood of her preys, turning her golden-colored, spotted fur red.

    "Yield, reptiles!" commanded Eliani, her dagger pointed at them menacingly. The archers, knowing they had no chance, retreated before one of them threw a smoke bomb. Whatever was inside the smoke bomb overwhelmed Eliani''s senses. She couldn''t rely on anything, be it her vision, her ears, or even her nose. Yet, she astutely concluded that this would interfere with the lizard people''s senses, if they also hunted the way a desert cat did.

    Knowing that she was wide open, she immediately retreated and tried to find a cover. She hoped it wasn''t a trap when she got clear of the smoke to find a half-wall for cover, dagger close to her in the defensive. She waited and waited, keeping her breathing steady to calm herself, like a prowler.

    No one came to ambush her. She slowly peeked out of the cover. The smoke had long dissipated, but the lizard people were already gone, leaving behind corpses of their comrades. Some of the charred bodies were clearly victims of the earlier fire, albeit intense enough to burn them to barely recognizable charred remains.

    She wondered where the lizard people came from, or what their intentions were, before it was interrupted by Bartlett''s and Rodvar''s sounds, both of whom had just arrived when the situation was already under control. She couldn''t blame their limitations; being a cheetah woman with digitigrade legs, she was clearly going to outpace them.

    She stayed on the roof, keeping watch, while Bartlett and Rodvar, upon noticing the dragon lying injured, immediately ran towards her, calling her name. Bartlett walked around to find the dragon''s head, only to find Shana there already. He looked around to search for Eliani, finding her on the roof. He silently nodded at her.

    "How''s she?" asked Bartlett, noticing the dragon wincing and growling in pain.

    "Not good," said Shana. "I sensed poison in her. I don''t know what kind, but I know it''s lethal to dragons."

    "A poison, lethal to dragons?" asked Bartlett. "Is that even possible?"

    Rodvar turned his head towards the bolts that missed her, and one big anchor-like bolt that penetrated her wing. The dwarf pulled one out of the path.

    "Anti-draconic enchantment," said Rodvar with a grave voice. "The same ones that injured the dragons earlier. It''s on the harpoon and the anchor, too. We need to get them out of her. Cut off the tips, Bart."

    "It''s metal, Rodvar. I need some enchantment." Bartlett was quick to remember that they had a mage that could just that. He looked around, trying to find Thomas. He was glad to have found the young man close by, but at the same time, he quickly raised his sword once he noticed who was with him. He rushed towards the Sybarian, yelling and drawing their attentions.

    "Bartlett?!" exclaimed Thomas. He quickly realized that he was going to kill his companion, prompting him to stretch out his arms and shouted, "Stop! Stop, Bartlett!"

    Bartlett stopped in his track, stumped. He couldn''t understand why Thomas was protecting the lizard person beside him.

    "Stand aside, Thomas!" he cried. "That lizard''s--"

    "That lizard is not going to harm anyone!" Thomas cried back. "He gave himself up!"

    "He...what?"

    "He''s willing to talk about everything." Thomas was reluctant to say anything more, still unable to comprehend what happened.

    "I may not look like it, but I''m Rory Tellian," said the lizard person, to the surprise of Bartlett and an understanding nod from Thomas. "And I''m not a lizard, but let''s not get there for now. Right now, you must listen to him. Trust Thomas, Bartlett. Please."

    "Does that mean...does that mean you have been spying on us?!" said a bewildered Bartlett.

    "Not necessarily," said Rory, shrugging his shoulder. "I know what you''re thinking right now, but this isn''t the time. You have to save the princess. I''m expendable compared to her."

    "Expendable how?! Your brethren attacked her! From where I''m standing--"

    "From where you''re standing, you''re like a blind man who don''t understand anything!" yelled Rory, causing Bartlett to shut up. "There''s more to this than what meets the eye, Bartlett, but there''s time for that. Take Thomas and save his sister. Do this for him. Please."

    Bartlett, surprised that the secret was already out, turned to Thomas.

    "He told me. It''s still hard to believe that Princess is Henrietta," said Thomas. "I know you have something to do with it, but we''ll talk about it later. What do you want me to do?"

    Bartlett then told him what he was planning. Thomas did not need to agree; it was the only way it should be done. He used his own magick to enchant Bartlett''s sword to be sharp enough to cut through the steel. He walked to the harpoon lodged in Henrietta''s leg and said, "Go to her, Thomas."

    "To whom?"

    "Henrietta. Comfort her with your word. No more secrets this time. Let her know that her brother is going to be fine. Keep her hopes up."

    It was something that Thomas was still trying to process: secrets. Earlier, he just found out that his friend and savior, Rory, belonged to the same race (or similar race, considering he called himself a Dromedian, not a Sybarian) that once gave him nightmares and were responsible for the massacre of his family. Then, he just found out that the grayish pink scaled dragon he had been traveling with, and who also happened to be able to talk to him, was his sister, the one who he witnessed dying in front of him. She did everything she could to stop him from knowing who she was, for whatever reason.

    He had a lot of questions that needed answering, especially towards his now-draconic sister. But he knew asking her those while her life was in danger would only distress her. The best he could do was to let her know that she was going to be fine, that this would not be the last time he would see her. That she, even if she was no longer human, was still the same Henrietta that Thomas loved.

    "Henrietta?" said Thomas. "Henri?"

    Henrietta was unresponsive at first. But then, she slowly opened her eyes. Her yellow, reptilian eyes met with Thomas. She let out a toothy smile.

    "You called my name," said Henrietta. Her voice was weak. "Only you''d call me ''Henri'', Tommy."

    Thomas chuckled. The nicknames were something they came up, considering how close they were with one another. Henrietta''s nickname was something that came from her personality, one that was not befitting a princess like their older sisters.

    "Henri, I wish I can speak with you more, but..."

    "I know. I have ears, you know," said Henrietta, referring to Bartlett and Rodvar''s plan. "Whatever they are trying to do, I doubt it will save me."

    "No, don''t say that," said Thomas, his smile fading. "You survived against all odds. Don''t let the odds win this time. So, please. Trust them. Trust me."

    "I...I will try," said Henrietta. She then turn her attention to Bartlett. "Do it, Bartlett."

    Bartlett nodded. He immediately cut the tip of the harpoon and was preparing to pull it out before Shana cast a soothing spell. She nodded to Bartlett, silently signaling him that she had it covered.

    It was not a pleasant sight as Bartlett struggled to pull out the harpoon out of Henrietta''s leg. She let out a weak growl, obviously feeling pain, though mostly numbed by Shana''s spell. Bartlett went to her wing and repeated what he did. Henrietta''s wing membrane was ripped from the extraction, but at the very least, the metal''s gone.

    Yet, it was just the easy part. Henrietta was still feeling weak and numb. The anti-draconic metal may have been removed from her body, but the enchantment already did some damage to her. Even now, her consciousness was slipping. She could barely see Thomas with her unfocused eyes. Her strength was spent on her last gambit, which she was glad to have worked.

    Before this, she was content to know that Thomas would be fine, and that there were people that would care for him. Now that he knew who she was, she wanted to stay alive, to protect him, knowing that he needed a dragon by his side. As his sister, she would do whatever it takes to protect him. As a dragon, she would be able to do just that.

    But she couldn''t do it. Not with her injuries, and not with her consciousness fading. She soon accepted the fact that she could not protect him, not when she couldn''t win against the pain. She conceded, knowing that this time, it was Thomas''s role to protect her. He had grown into a fine young man, brave and capable of protecting himself and others.

    And right now, she needed him, and everyone else she befriended. This time, she needed them.

    "I put my life in your hands now...Thomas," declared Henrietta.

    The dragon then closed her eyes, and let her consciousness drift away....

 Chapter 25 (End of Part I)

    "Henri?! Henrietta!" cried Thomas, desperation evident in his voice. "Don''t do this to me again!"

    "Calm down, Thomas," said Shana, walking towards him. "She''s just unconscious."

    He got his confirmation of her survival after noticing the slight movement of Henrietta''s body. She was still breathing, evident by the hot air that came out of her nostrils. Thomas let out a sigh of relief.

    "We still have to treat her wounds and remove the anti-draconic effect on her," said Shana, once she noticed Thomas sigh in relief. "She''s not out of the woods yet."

    "I know," said Thomas, holding back tears. "But I''m glad she''s safe. I can''t bear seeing her die again. I...I...."

    Thomas''s feeling was all over the place, considering how everything was suddenly revealed to him in just a day. The things that were revealed to him were shocking on their own, but all three at once within the span of an hour? it all overwhelmed him once he started to ponder about them.

    The one he started on, however, was not the question of Henrietta''s survival, but Rory, his friend and guardian. Henrietta''s survival was a pleasant surprise he accepted, considering how he had moved on from her supposed death. Her returning as a dragon brought a lot of questions onto the table, but until she regained consciousness, Thomas would have to wait.

    What he was more confused of was Rory. He had, for two years since his escape from the massacre of his family, believed Rory to be a good friend, who had his back when he was at the lowest point of his life. He did not mince his words when Thomas was in despair. He implored him to continue living as a legacy to his family, and to honor the sister that saved him by sacrificing herself (who, again, happened to survive as a dragon). His words struck a chord with Thomas, even more so when he asked Thomas what he wanted to do in life.

    Thomas remembered giving his answer.

    "I want to be a mage that can protect others."

    Rory respected his answer, beginning his association with Clydeth, the kingdom of mages, which unlike Wyrith, practiced elective monarchy where the leader of the country is given the title king or queen of wizards. Thomas remembered Rory telling him that everyone had a fair chance, even Thomas, if he wished to be a king. Thomas kept thinking about it, but decided that he would find his answer when his life was better.

    He did turn his life around, and he was grateful for Rory''s persistence. He was determined to make sure he was having the best time of his life since the massacre.

    Then it all crashing down the moment Thomas was properly reunited with his sister. It''s like the world did not wish for him to have both good things.

    Or perhaps it was just Thomas, who did not give Rory a chance. Even so, it was still hard for him to see him as a friend after revealing that he was one of the lizard people. He may have denied to be involved, but Thomas was reluctant to believe him when he looked like the people that traumatized him and gave him nightmare.

    This in turn caused to wonder if everything Rory did was a long game, a big lie to lower his defenses, and strike him when he was the most vulnerable. But then why would he reveal himself and protected him like that? Why did he reveal who Henrietta was? In fact, why did he punch him instead of slashing his throat with his sharp, talon-like claws?

    Was this part of his game, or was he genuinely tried to help him despite knowing that he could give Thomas nightmares?

    He sat by Henrietta''s unconscious body, sinking his head in his arms and legs, unable to process anything that happened in the past hour. Too many unanswered questions. Too many lies. It''s like the world he had built for the last two years came crumbling down. He was just made a fool by his own personal hero.

    "Why, Rory?" said Thomas, raising his head. "Why must you be one of them? What is your game?"

    He caught a glimpse of Henrietta, who by now had been treated by the dragon healers. He looked up to the magnificent creatures and those who worked closely with them. It felt different, now, knowing that his sister had become one. Thomas wanted to ask Rory, but at the moment, thinking about him only gave him conflicting feelings of betrayal, anger, and regret.

    Then looking at Henrietta made him sad, then anger. Why did she had to keep her secret? Then, he thought better. He knew he wouldn''t believe her, at least at first. But still....

    "She has her reasons."

    This caused him to gasp, prompting him to pull out his spellbook in reflex. He realized that his book was blank; he used up all his reserves protecting Henrietta before Bartlett and the others came. He had no choice but to sigh and turn his attention towards the owner of the voice.

    Bartlett, covered in bandages, gave him a sympathetic look. He undoubtedly understood his situation.

    "Oh, Bartlett," said Thomas. "I''m sorry, I--"

    "Don''t be." Bartlett let out a smile. He then looked at Henrietta. Thomas wondered if he could ask anything about his sister, whether she had something that she shared with Bartlett. Before he could say anything, Bartlett spoke first.

    "I know what you want to ask," said Bartlett. "But other than the fact that she''s a princess, I know nothing of her curse."

    "Did she confide with you of anything else?" asked Thomas.

    "Whatever she has in mind, she keeps it to herself. She did tell me about who you are and her reluctance to put you in danger. Then again...she thought secrets protect those she cares about, and because she isn''t ready to tell the truth. I have a feeling she was reluctant to tell you the truth was because she was afraid that you''d not take it seriously."

    Thomas looked at Henrietta, as if silently asking her if that was true.

    "This is...an unprecedented situation," said Thomas. "Nobody would be able to accept that a human could be cursed into a dragon outside of legends."

    "Legends and myths have a shred of fact in it."

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "I guess so. I do hope she''s alright, though. What can you tell?"

    "The healers told me that the dark magick that ravaged her body put her in a coma. They said she''s luckier than most dragons as she wasn''t flying when struck by the anchored harpoons. The other dragons that were struck fell to the ground and died of wounds that were made worse by the anti-draconic enchantment. But her survival is due to something else."

    "Something else?"

    "Rodvar told me about her fire''s property. Shana confirmed that something in her fire protected her from the worst of it. She believes that Henrietta had a protector that manifested in her fire beyond her fiery breaths. She wanted to know more, but until she regains consciousness, that fact remains a mystery. Still, her survival won''t change the fact that Manarithia''s air dominance is compromised. This fact would make people worried."

    "I can understand. Dragons are tough, smart, and fly like a bird, despite their sizes. If that can be overcome, then Manarithia is going to have a hard time."

    "You do know your dragons, eh, Tom?"

    "It''s part of our history, too," said Thomas. "Do you know Wyrith once had an air force, too? We used dragons for air warfare in the past."

    "When was that? I never know that."

    Thomas shook his head. "Not sure. I didn''t think too much about it because I was more fascinated by the fact that Wyrithians were once a kingdom of dragons like Manarithia, 500 years ago. I don''t know why they didn''t continue using dragons like Manarithia, and at this point, unless I can find any archive that old, I wouldn''t know."

    "You might get them if you ask for it as a prince," commented Bartlett. "But I doubt they would let you in."

    Thomas sighed. "Henrietta told you everything, didn''t she?"

    "It''s our secret," Bartlett then glanced around. "Would you mind if we find a better place to sit and talk?"

    "And leave Henri behind so someone can finish the job?"

    "I got Rodvar and Ellie to keep her safe. While I don''t know if the Sybarians can disguise themselves as either a dwarf or a cheetah woman, I know I can tell if they are acting strangely."

    Upon hearing that, Thomas looked away, troubled. Bartlett did not need to guess why. They both walked to a nearby wall, away from the busy dragon riders and dragon healers dealing with Henrietta''s ailment. Thomas looked at them suspiciously, keeping their eyes on them. Bartlett noticed this.

    "I know you can''t trust anyone, not after what happened," said Bartlett. "I saw them shed their disguises with my own eyes. I have reasons to believe you."

    "You haven''t seen them at their best, then," said Thomas with a scoff. "How do you think they could infiltrate a heavily-guarded castle? They can take the disguises of the people you know. My family...the king and queen of Wyrith. The real ones. They were killed by their own advisors. My brother...my sister...."

    "You don''t need to recall what happened," said Bartlett. "Let it rest, Thomas."

    That''s what Ro...." He hesitated to utter his name. "He said to me, during one of my...sulks."

    There was an uncomfortable silence between the two, especially to Thomas. Bartlett only knew him for barely a week, and he had many reasons to cast doubt on whether Rory was helping Thomas own interest or for genuine sympathy. The reveal that he was a Sybarian all along seemed to make it clear where his allegiance lies.

    Yet, part of him believed that this was more than just Rory. Bartlett had no reason to believe Rory after revealing himself. So, then, why did he stay? He wanted to ask Thomas that.

    "Thomas," said Bartlett. "Rory surrendered himself. He''s under heavy guard in the constabulary."

    "That doesn''t change anything," said Thomas, raising his voice. "He betrayed our trust, Bartlett. He betrayed me! He was the one who took me out of depression after my family was killed. I am not going to cope by telling myself that the real Rory was killed by a Sybarian who disguised himself at him because I know him! We lived for two years together, and he was always on my side, whether it''s high or low! Even then...when I was in danger, and he was out of reach, he...he...."

    Thomas couldn''t hold back his tears, but he kept himself from crying out loud. Bartlett noticed him biting his own lips and clenched his hands into a fist. They shook vigorously, turning white as he clenched them so hard.

    Bartlett couldn''t say anything, not when it came to Rory. Yet, he could ask him something.

    "What are you going to do now?" asked Bartlett.

    "What else am I supposed to do? I''m going to stay and take care of Henrietta."

    "Are you sure?"

    "I want to be there when she wakes up," said Thomas. "I don''t know if people know who I am yet, but if not, then I''ll use that fact to keep this secret for as long as possible. I can''t bear losing her again."

    Bartlett nodded, understanding Thomas''s choice. Both Henrietta and Thomas were the last remaining witness to the truth, one that would surely change everything in the developing situation in the war between kingdoms. From the young former prince, and from the dragon who was once a human princess, Bartlett knew that there was more than meets the eye. He always stood in his belief that nothing was ever as it seemed, that there was always a part of the story that was left out so that Bartlett always got what he wanted to hear. Not all people wished to be confused, nor do they want to be forced to choose when the choice presented itself.

    His meeting with Henrietta, Thomas, and even Rory were all the experience he needed to substantiate this line of thought. He became privy of a secret that he would never even know if he walked away from the two Wyrithians asking him for assistance. He could turn away once he realized the truth, but he couldn''t. In fact, he still wondered why he would trust a dragon''s words. She was convincing, as did the Wyrithians that hunted her.

    But was it all truly something as mundane as that? Rory''s words to him made him think.

    Moments before Bartlett started his conversation with Thomas, he witnessed Rory surrendering himself to the guards who bound him and took him away. He could be killed, but his words convinced the constables.

    "I am not going to resist," said Rory. "If you have to kill me, then do it."

    The commander, understanding his resolve, stopped them from doing so. He told his people to keep him secured until they could interrogate him. This caused Bartlett to suspect that the commander was a Sybarian in disguise, probably someone who was one of Rory''s allies.

    "I do have one request, though," said Rory. "I need to speak to Bartlett Evans."

    The name surprised the constables. They knew the significance of that name, but Rory clearly did not. This gave Bartlett the opportunity to walk into them and said, "I''ll talk with him. Don''t worry."

    As Rory was restrained by some magick ropes, Rory told him what he had in mind.

    "I won''t try to escape," said Rory. It was hard to determine his expression, now that his face resembled a dragon, complete with a snout. "I am not working against you, and I am going to prove that. One last thing, Bartlett. Thomas doesn''t need to talk to me. I doubt he''d want to see me. This time, you are his guardian. Keep him safe, no matter what happens."

    "Why are you so interested of him? Didn''t your kind kill his family and responsible for Henrietta''s current form?"

    "Does humans not make other races'' lives miserable?" retorted Rory. "You once discriminate against fellow humans. Once that was gone, you turn towards the other races that were not even remotely human. It''s the same with us. Such is our nature."

    "You didn''t answer my question, Rory. Besides, is ''Rory'' even your real name?"

    "Well...all in good time. I doubt it, but if we happen to resume this conversation again, I''ll be happy to tell you everything. For now, you need to know more about us. For starters, don''t lump me with those lizards."

    "You know, I start to understand why people hates cryptic answers like that."

    "Just find me in my cell if you want your answers. That is, provided you can believe me."

    He was then led away by the constables.

    It did not help Bartlett in the slightest. He was hoping to learn more about the current situation beyond the Manarithia-Wyrith war that had been going on for almost a year. At this point, Bartlett wanted to know, not because he wanted to profit out of it, as he would before meeting Henrietta. He genuinely wanted to help, like he used to do almost ten years ago, when he was a young, optimistic man who believed in justice, who wished for adventures that would be told as stories, that would one day become legends, while getting the riches he could only dreamt of

    He thought he grew out of it. In the end, he was still that heroic young man who, despite the horrors of Rogaria, saw that the world was always in danger, that there were still evil lurking in each corners.

    If he could do something, he would. Whatever it takes to reach the truth.