Dragon Knight Prophecy - Original series

An original series written by a total amateur set in a fantasy world where Dragons and myths and men march to war.
Low use of magic, deeply developed world with a pantheon of gods and lost history. Story is essentially a love story written because my wife was dying and I needed and outlet for my pain. Thankfully she survived, but a lot of the emotion of those early days is poured into these chapters.

As of right now I am writing book 8 of this series. Most books have 25ish chapters and average about 5k words a chapter, though some are much longer.

You can read the full story here, or you can ask me things on discord.
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Dragon Knight prophecy Book 1 Chapter 1 To save an empire


Carefully he hid a dull, leather pack in the crevice of the stone. The sun was still low in the morning sky; its orange glow barely visible over the mountains. He thought of the journey ahead and if he would be back before nightfall. Why was he still concerned about having enough time to get back? He wasn’t coming back.

His armor shifted as he stood, the metal plates polished to a glistening sheen. The right shoulder was trimmed in gold and decorated with a sunburst. Two white diamonds were painted over it as symbols of his rank and burden. The red star of Astikar, the symbol of his God, was emblazoned on the left of his breastplate.

He was a soldier and a commander here to do the impossible. A task made all the more difficult by the fact that he was alone. Over a month ago, he set out with thirty men on a quest to change the fate of a war and the despair of a people.

He traveled east away from the war, covering as much ground as he could by pushing men and horses to their limits. By the second week, they had crossed the common lands and entered the eastern provinces. These were a loose collection of petty kingdoms with weak kings and rulers. He pushed on through these lands driving for the dense forests that lay beyond.

When they reached the vast forest known to the locals as the Greenwall, his men had to slow down. These lands were sparsely populated, and the forest became dense and hilly.

The only humans who traveled into these lands were loggers. Several rare varieties of trees grew in the Greenwall. Some of them were ancient and highly prized by the lands further west. White knotted oaks, and the impossibly beautiful black onyx maple were hidden in the dense woods. The logging paths were all they had to travel on now, and these were little more than overgrown, muddy trails.

If he had been further north, he could take the farm roads in and avoided the dense forest for another five days. Easier as it may have been, he feared to take that route. Too many eyes would see him pass, and too many questions would be raised. Better to head directly west through the sparsely populated farmlands and go through the forest.

A week into the forest and he made camp on a hill in the center of a meadow. He posted guards as always since the woods were home to wild animals and beasts. He didn't expect any trouble as most animals avoided a large force. The real danger was in the west beyond the green plains, but that was many weeks away. This far from the bloody battlefields, he should be able to find peace. The enemy, with any luck, had no idea he was not present on the front lines. By the time they knew, it would be too late, and their fate would be sealed.

Deep into the darkness of the night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling of this tent. When the first howls split the air, his shock and disbelief held him in place. Fear and panic gripped him as he fought the sensation aside and rose to his feet.

They swarmed over the camp in a wave of flailing death. His men were not expecting a battle, so armor and weapons were stacked neatly outside tents. They struggled to grab sword and shield to stand in bare feet against the onrushing tide. They were scattered and out of formation, easy pickings for the dark forms that now raced around them. Gersius reacted as only he could, drawing his sword and charged into the fight in little more than his pants.

Despite being caught off guard, Gersius managed to gather a dozen of his men. They formed a tight circle, creating a perimeter in the center of the camp. Around him, he could hear men screaming in the darkness as they were ripped apart. They called his name, begging him to save them from the doom that had come on them.

All of these men were volunteers, eager to accompany him. They jumped at the chance to follow a hero of the war on a daring mission. Their heads filled with dreams of fame and glory that would inevitably follow in his wake. Now they screamed like frightened children as they were slaughtered.

The battle raged in bloody chaos for another four hours, the ring of men growing smaller as they fell. They stepped backward over the dying men, shortening the distance and closing the gaps. To leave an opening would spell the doom of them all, but that meant the wounded and dying had to be abandoned. If they could find just a moment to drop their guard, they could save some of these men. They could heal them and stand them up, but the wall of death around them would lash out if they dared.

One by one, they fell, but so too did the enemy. His men took a terrible toll on the black forms that raced around them. For every man that fell, five or more of the monsters went with them. As the sun's rays crept over the horizon, two men still stood. Just five of the dark forms remained; the rest laying in heaps about them. Exhausted and driven mad with rage the men fought on until, by mercy and grace, they still stood when all else were slain.

The mission was over, and with it, the hopes and dreams of his people. All that he gambled on had failed, and with it came the shame of defeat. He couldn't understand how any of this had happened. These were his men! They believed in him, they trusted him, and now they lay in pieces all around, their trust in him misplaced.

His brothers needed to know of this disaster, so he penned a letter and handed it to his only surviving soldier. The foul beasts had slaughtered the horses in the night, so the man with a trembling salute took the letters and vanished into the forest on foot, promising to make haste back to Calathen.

Calathen seemed like another world away. It was the largest city in what was once an empire. Its massive stone walls ringed a small mountain that stood in the middle of the rolling plains. The city itself was built around the base of the mountain with the old buildings that once made up the Emperor's palace at the top. The empire had lasted but ten years, formed in an act of desperation when the lands faced certain defeat. It fell to ruin when the man who united it was slain. Assassinated some say, but the true story of what happened was lost to time and history.

The lands may have fractured, but the people still remembered the stories of the once glorious empire. Tales told of the heroics of its champions and of dragons who aided men. It was for Calathen and the people who made up the lost empire that he'd come all this way. He considered every person from every province to be his people, and all of them were threatened by war. A war that came out of the night with no warning or mercy. It was these people he failed.

Now he stood alone surveying the result of his decisions. Never had he felt such pain and turmoil in his life. Never had he been crippled by such indecision. The path before him now went in only two directions. Return in disgrace and accept judgment for his failure, or press on and meet his fate. Die a hero in one final battle against a foe he could not possibly hope to defeat. He made his choice and picked up his gear, heading deeper into the forest.

For three days, he walked through the forest alone. He found the farm road that ran from the north on the morning of the fourth day and followed it south, deeper into the Greenwall. The road quickly faded to a muddy track, and then an overgrown trail before vanishing completely.

Days later, he found the fern-covered glen and the stream. A large rock leaned out over a small patch of gravel, providing a crude shelter. It was in the shade of this rock he had made his camp. He was close enough now to the mountains that their shadow cast over him in the morning. He spent another four days searching the base of the mountains for a passage. When he found the cave, he knew that this was his way inside. One last night of rest, and he would set out in the morning. He would face his fate like a man, uttering one last cry of battle and glory, and die trying to complete his mission.

The morning had come, and despite his foreknowledge, he still prepared as if he was coming back. He wasn't coming back.

With resignation, he took up his sword. It was a typical sword of his order. A straight blade nearly as long as his legs. The crossguard was a red star with its points radiating out. On the pommel was a golden stone to symbolize the sunburst, the dawn of mercy, and grace to man through his god.

Over his back, he threw his cloak and adjusted its fit around his neck. He lifted his helmet and turned it over in his hands. It was a simple metal cone rounded on the top and crested with the red star of his god. It fully enclosed his face except for a slit for his eyes. Its edges were decorated in golden coils to symbolize his rank and to make him stand out among his men. He carefully lifted it over his head and slid it down. When he opened his eyes, he saw the world through the familiar window of his armor. A sense of protection and invulnerability enveloped him. With determination, he pushed forward, beginning the final steps of his life.

He trudged up the broken slopes of the hills at the base of the mountain. The ground here was uneven and treacherous, but the cave above was the only way he had found so far that might lead within. Somewhere deep inside these mountains was a valley, and in that valley was his last chance to die a hero, and avoid the shame that awaited him back home.

He stood outside the cave, breathing heavily under the weight of his armor. He brought with him two torches and again chuckled at the pointlessness of it. One torch was to get him into the valley; the other was for when he came back. He wasn't coming back.

He lit the torch and made his way into the darkness of the cave. He felt like a man lost in a storm who knew he would never find his way home. He could see but a dozen feet at best in a light that offered little detail. Beyond that was a pitch blackness that threatened to swallow him. With determination, he pushed on. There was only one purpose in his life now, and that purpose lay somewhere ahead.

Slowly he descended into the darkness, the light of his torch his only companion. It reflected off his armor of polished metal plates that acted like mirrors for the dancing flame. The metal of his boots clanked on the uneven stone floor with each step. He felt confined in his armor and wanted to remove his helmet to be free from its restrictive embrace. He didn’t dare, not when death could be a step away. He tried to steady his breathing as he fought the urge to flee. Someplace beyond these tunnels was his fate.

Each long moment of slow progress felt like a lifetime, the twisting cave making his passage a labor of doom. He lamented the fact that he was alone, his mission failed. So much was riding on him, and he was the only one left to face a foe that would rend him limb from limb.

Still, he continued, pushing forward against all logic. For an hour, he walked his course, winding his way through the empty tunnels of the Ice fang peaks. Now and then, his cloak would sway, and the torch flicker as if in a breeze. He could feel a cold breath on the skin around his eyes; its touch was a welcomed relief.

Still, he had to wonder how far these tunnels went? When did they open into the valley and the lair of the beast who lived there? He found only one report of the creature from many years ago. Some additional writings indicated that others had gone out to verify it, but none had ever returned.

That was all the proof he needed, and he argued with his superiors for permission to come here. They mocked his evidence and cited that even if it was true, he would only add to the list of failed missions. How prophetic those words seemed to him now.

He knew he wasn't the first to make this journey, and probably wouldn't be the last. He shuddered at the thought that his death was waiting for him. The fear of it weighed down his feet and almost froze his heart. He thought in those brief moments of how he would never see peace in his land. Never know the glory of the empire reborn. Never have a wife or family.

Family was all that truly mattered to him. For years he dreamed of laying down his sword and position in his faith. He yearned for a home and a warm pair of arms to hold him and help him raise a child or two.

Time and time again, he set those dreams aside. His faith called him to duty and service, and he always answered the call. He always set aside the desires of his heart to serve the God he loved. Now his service would end and with it those fleeting dreams of warm arms, and a child’s love.

His eyes caught the glint of light as the tunnel grew brighter ahead. A soft, cold light filled the air just around the next bend. The kiss of a cool breeze blew through the narrow slit of his helmet. He savored the sensation, closing his eyes to bask in its touch. It helped to relieve the heat and discomfort of his armor. How many hours had he suffered under this armor's oppressive weight? How many times did he wish to be rid of it, perhaps the death that awaited him wasn't a doom, maybe it was a blessing. He opened his eyes, and the breeze grew stronger as he moved toward the brightness.

“This is it,” he thought as he pressed on toward the light.

The tunnel opened into the cold air of a mountain valley. Steep rocky walls rose on all sides, hemming in a rolling floor that was barely a few miles across and perhaps twice as long. The cliff walls were crowned with snow and ice that glistened in the sunlight. In the distance came a faint rumbling like the charge of a hundred horses.

Further away were mountain peaks, covered in white and soaring so high they pierced the clouds. To his left was a distant cliff face with a narrow waterfall spilling from an ice-capped ledge. It crashed some sixty meters to the valley floor, causing a spray of mist and foam. Besides the falls, some twenty meters up the cliff was a dark opening to another cave. The report mentioned the waterfall, saying the beast came out of a cave nearby.

Gersius eyed the cave opening with dread. That had to be the lair and his prey and his death. With a tremble, he cast the torch aside and drew his sword. He turned the blade over in his hand, looking at the shine of the metal in the soft light.

“Many battles have you, and I come through,” he said to his blade nervously. “Let us go and have our last.”

The floor of the valley was barren, comprised of loose gravel, and the occasional larger stones. Nothing grew here except a hardy yellow scrub grass that clung to the poor soil in clumps.

Near the far edge of the valley was a stream fed by the falls. It meandered across the valley in a stony bed and exited in a canyon on the southern tip. The valley floor was relatively level around the stream but rolled and dipped in hills further away from the water.

It all had a serene, peaceful beauty, but felt lifeless and barren, chilled by the cold mountain air. During the last few days, he felt alone, but here he felt truly isolated. Cut off from the world where no one would find his body.

He made his way to the water’s edge, a wary eye always on the distant cave. The stream flowed across stones polished smooth by ages of flowing water. It was pure as the rain and clear as the sky, and he couldn’t help but cast his helmet aside and cup his hands to drink.

He allowed himself to pause and marvel at the beauty around him while thinking of happier moments. He knew he was stalling, afraid of what could be moments ahead. He splashed his face with the icy water before putting his helmet back on. He beat back the foolish desire to throw it aside; he would need it for the danger ahead.

His gaze turned from the stream and looked over the rolling hills of gravel and scrub grass. Carefully he picked his way across the open ground, eyeing the cave as he went. Each step forward felt more difficult to make. The beast was here; he could feel it. That sense of impending doom that was common to the men of his order. That guiding feeling from the divine that warned them when danger was close.

He steadied himself and pushed on, ignoring the fear. He didn't consider himself a brave man. He only did what needed doing, and he did what was right. He hoped to bring back a miracle, that he could save the people of the old empire. They were the ones who needed hope now. The war was lost, and the people driven further and further back. The towns and cities not yet overrun by the enemy were overrun with refugees. Good people fleeing an enemy that came on relentlessly.

In a daring move, he led an army out to meet the enemy. He shattered their force and drove them back nearly a hundred miles. It was then to his great shock he discovered the enemy had three armies and several smaller battle groups. He realized his army was overstretched and vastly outnumbered. He had to fall back with haste or risk being encircled and destroyed.

It all came down to numbers now. He didn't have enough men to mount an offensive against so many. He needed the kingdoms of the old empire to unite and combine their armies, but the kings that made up Delvarium were fractured and dived. The lords were not willing to work together and put a unified front before the enemy. All of them sent token forces, a gesture of support, but kept the bulk of their armies inside their borders for “self-defense.”

Without those men, he would have to wage a defensive war using the protection of the hills, and the border keeps to make his smaller numbers more effective. He knew a defensive war was a losing war and struggled to convince the Lords of the surrounding lands. None of them could see the danger or understood the need.

The people of the west, known as the Doan, were assembling and marching in great numbers. They came in vast hoards and drove monsters before them. The same monsters that attacked his men in the forest. They overran the green fields between the river and hills, burning the towns in their path. The only large city in the region fell, far quicker than he believed possible, inflicting a wound that pierced his heart.

This drove him to strike back, and ravage the enemy while they were complacently looting the city. He gave them no quarter and slammed into their lines with great vengeance. He won, but the Doan fought with a level of organization they had never before possessed, and his losses had been higher than expected.

Then his scouts discovered the other armies. He knew they were in danger of being encircled and destroyed, so he fled with all the speed he could muster. He retreated to the border keeps, giving up the ground he'd won. It was time for a new plan, with a new objective, if only the order had understood.

The Doan wouldn’t risk a direct attack on the fortified hills of the border keeps. They paused a safe distance away, regrouping the shattered army. Every day his scouts reported their numbers growing as they massed for the final assault. He hoped it would be two months before they moved forward again. He left instructions to other commanders on how to harass and delay them. He wanted to buy as much time as he could to complete his mission.

All of it was futile now. His men were dead, and his mission was over. What hope did he have of completing this task alone? He thought of his homeland and his people. He thought of his dreams and hopes for the future. He thought of the family he would never have.

He could not go back and bear the shame of failing. He could not go back and watch the lands be overrun and burned. If all was lost, then at the very least, he could die honorably in one last battle to try and save them all.

A sudden roar filled his ears, freezing him on the spot. His eyes darted to the dark cave, certain the beast would be there but saw nothing but shadow. His heart raced as he watched the tunnel, thinking perhaps it was just inside. He began to take note of just how large the cave actually was. Ten men could easily walk side by side through that opening, and the ceiling was taller than it was wide. He wondered how large the beast really was. Certainly large enough to crush him in a single clawed hand.

Another cry echoed off the valley walls, muffled by the sound of the falling water. There was still no movement in the cave, so he began to walk, looking all around. His eyes scanned every rock, hill, and cliff face; nothing moved, but the occasional wisp of snow blowing in the wind from above.

He forced himself to move forward, lifting feet that wanted to flee. Knowing the beast was here, but not being able to see it only terrified him more. He resorted to the one sense that could detect the monster, his ears focusing on any sound they heard. Slowly he began to hear more, but it wasn't the roar of a deadly beast, or the growl of death by tooth and claw, no; it was crying.

He ducked low to crawl up a hill of stones and dead grass to see into the depression beyond. His breath caught in his throat as his limbs trembled. His eyes went wide as they gazed on the creature below, and he knew death now hung over his head.

Its body was covered in deep blue scales that faded to white at the tips. Its head at the end of a long serpent neck sprouted blue crystalline horns from its jawbones and had a small row of spikes down the center. Two larger horns as long as his arm grew from the back of its head and curled gently downward. The face was reptilian, with a long, cruel-looking jaw full of teeth that made his heart race. It had eyes of pure blue that seemed to glow with a light that danced on the surface like a flame.

It was twice as large as a covered wagon, nearly the size of a small house. It looked lean and muscular, with arms that resembled those of a human if not for the scales the mighty clawed hands.

It lay on its side, all four of its powerful limbs trembling, and its bluish-black claws dug deep in the stone. A long tail thrashed behind it, almost writhing as if in terrible anger. It had great leathery wings with scaled blue arms and a white membrane. They were twisted and torn, bent at odd angles, and broken. It was then that he finally noticed the blood. Everywhere from the end of its tail to the nose of its snout was a dark, almost black liquid. It stained the rocks and spotted its wings. There were deep gashes on its side and what looked like punctures on its neck.

His mind struggled to understand what he was seeing. This dragon was no fierce angel of death. Instead, this dragon was on death's very door.

He watched in despair as it tried to pull itself along with one arm and let out a deep, stuttering cry of pain.

“No, no, no!” He cried out in absolute shock at the site. He forgot himself and abandoned his hiding spot on the hill.

The beast reacted to the noise with a sudden twitching terror. Its head struggled to face him, and a mouth of teeth reared up. With a sobbing gurgle, it gasped at him and then fell to the ground, curling into a ball as best it could. The effort caused renewed pain in its broken body, and it began to cry again.

Everything he had worked for these past weeks was burning before his very eyes. Not only had he failed his mission, now he had failed to die.

‘I came all this way for this?’ he screamed in his head. ‘A dying dragon!’

He staggered over the ground toward it as the dragon continued to sob. He needed to unite the kingdoms. He needed to rally his people. He needed one final heroic battle so he could die honorably. He needed a LIVING dragon!

The creature saw his approach and screamed like a helpless animal caught in a trap. It was helpless before him, unable to offer him any threat.

In all the dark moments of the past weeks and all his grim thoughts, he never imagined this. A thousand possible outcomes played out in his mind, most of them ending with his death, but never had he imagined this.

As the dragon's tail lashed vainly about, he realized it wasn't angry, it was in pain, great and terrible pain. His face went pale as he turned his head, searching the scene for some glimmer of hope. Everything he had done these past weeks was now in vain. Risks had been taken, lives lost and time, precious time wasted.

Furiously his mind worked at a solution; there had to be a way to salvage this mission. He realized in a moment of desperation that he had only one option, one thing worth trying, but he doubted it would work. Still, it offered a new path, a glimmer of hope where there had previously been none. He didn't have time to consider the long-term consequences; he either took his chance now or missed it forever.

Slowly he bent down, lowering his arms to the ground where the dragon could see him. Carefully he placed the sword on the ground at his feet and stood up with his hands open.

The dragon’s gaze followed every movement, eyeing him with suspicion, then to his utter surprise, it spoke.

“Kill me and be done with it,” it wheezed in pain. “I have nothing left to live for.” Its voice was higher pitched than he expected. It crackled and was full of pain, but it had a strong quality to it. It strangely seemed to echo as if there were two speaking.

He took a step away from the sword and lifted his hands to his helmet. He wanted to show the creature he meant it no harm and to see who he was.

The helm came away, revealing his shaven face, and deep brown eyes. His sandy brown hair was roughly cut and fell to his shoulders in wild tufts. He had strength in his eyes and a jaw to match, always appearing to be a man who bore burdens. He dropped his arm, tossing the helmet aside as he prepared to bargain. With what measure of calm he could muster, he stared into those eyes of blue fire, meeting the dragon face to face.

“You can speak? You can understand me then?” he asked.

“I understand what you want!” it spat in an angry gasp. “But you are too late. He has already taken my hoard!” it added, beginning to cry again. “My treasure is gone, gone!”

“Your hoard?” He replied, never taking his eyes away. “I have not come here for your treasure,” he added as he took a cautious step toward the beast.

“A trophy then, come to hack off my head and mount it on your wall!” it cried. “Why? Why has this happened to me?”

He continued to slowly walk toward the beast, his hands out to his sides and held open.

“If I had come here to kill you, I would not have put down my sword.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat? To watch me die?”

“I have not come all this way to watch anybody die,” he said, still advancing. “I came here to find you because I need your help.”

The creature shuddered as it tried to laugh. “Too late for that! Not that I would have helped you, even if I wasn’t about to die.”

“I have come a very long way to find you. I hoped I could persuade you to help me, but I was willing to use force if necessary,” he said, his eyes fixed on the beasts.

“So you would have tried to kill me too? How many more dragon slayers are behind you? Why has fate decreed that I must die?”

“I did not want to kill you. I wanted you to help me.”

“Why should I help you, dragon slayer?”

The strain of marching to his death, coupled with the failure of his mission, boiled up from inside. The dragon's condition and its insults ignited that strain, causing an outburst.

“I am no dragon slayer!” he shouted back. “I am Gersius, Knight captain of the Brothers Militarus of the order of Astikar. I am a battle priest of the God of mercy! Holy knight of his truth.” He paused a moment to see if the beast had any biting remarks to make. “I came here because I had to. I need you. I need your help.”

“Ha, you need my gold!”

“I need you to keep silent! Right now, I have the only thing you need!” he said angrily, emphasizing the word you.

“And what is that?” the dragon spat in anger.

“Mercy,” he said, finally arriving within a few steps of the beast.

The dragon eyed him cautiously as he stood before it.

“What mercy do you speak of?” it asked in a voice full of pain and contempt.

“The mercy of help, the mercy of healing. I am a priest. I can heal some of your wounds and save you from death.”

He wondered just how true those words were. He was a powerful healer able to save men from even mortal wounds, but this was a dragon. It was much larger than a man, and its injuries were many and fatal. The power he would need to draw on would be enormous. He doubted he had the strength to heal it completely.

The beast glared at him with suspicion struggling to breathe. It felt fear as it looked at the man in armor, why was this rodent offering it help, what did it want? The rodents offer offended the dragon's pride, but was pride too high a price to pay for living?

“What do you want in exchange for this help?” the dragon asked.

“I need you to come with me to Calathen and fight by my side.”

“You want me to go with you to one of your hives?”

“Yes, to Calathen, I need your help there.”

“That is all you need from me?”

“And to stay a while to fight by my side,” Gersius reminded.

The dragon's eyes narrowed as it considered the offer.

“I agree. Heal me, and I will go with you to fight by your side,” the beast said too quickly.

Gersius was no fool. The dragon would tell him what he wanted to hear. When it was healed, it would kill him without a second thought. There was only one way to ensure the dragon upheld its end of the bargain.

“I need to know your name first,” Gersius said firmly.

The dragon's eyes narrowed, and its mouth curled into a snarl.

“Never!” it roared with the first true display of power. “Never will I tell you my name!” It struggled to reach out with a trembling arm and dig its claws into the stony soil. With great effort, it tried to pull itself away from Gersius. The strain made the dragon cry out in pain and frustration.

“Just kill me,” it sobbed, curling back into a ball. “Please, just kill me and end my pain.”

Gersius felt pity as he watched this once high and mighty creature beg to killed. It curled into a ball like a wounded animal who had finally resigned itself to its fate. He struggled to contain his spinning thoughts as the situation changed. He wasn't going to die here, his mission might still be saved, but he needed this dragon to live. He needed it to understand he meant it no harm and trust him.

“Listen to me,” he said to the creature as it hid its face. “I need your help.” He squatted down so he could look into the ball of scales to try and make eye contact. “I came here to save my people, to save my country. I need your help to do that. I do not wish to harm you in any way. I will not force you to tell me your name, but I cannot trust you unless you do.”

“You will bind me!” the dragon cried from inside its ball of scales.

“I am sorry I must. I need to be sure I can trust you,” Gersius said in a soothing voice.

“I don't want to be bound. Kill me, please kill me,” it cried.

Gersius searched his mind and heart for what to say. To be bound was an ancient magic that tied the being's soul to another and rendered them helpless before the master. It could only be used if you knew the true name of the being to be bound. He knew what he was asking of the dragon, and knew it would prefer death to being bound.

“I give you my word as a knight of Astikar that I will treat you with respect and dignity.” He paused and listened, hoping that would make some difference. When he got only low sobs from the ball of scales, he spoke again. “Please, you are dying, our time grows short,” he implored the broken dragon.

“Then I will finally be free!” it sobbed.

“A year and a day,” he said in a sudden burst of inspiration. “I swear on my honor as a priest of Astikar to limit your binding to a year and a day.”

“A year and a day?” came a feeble voice from within.

“On my honor, as a priest of Astikar,” he repeated.

There was a long pause, then the dragon spoke.

“You must swear to never reveal my name to any other!” it wailed.

“Agreed, I will never reveal your name to another, I will never utter your true name where anyone can hear it,” he added.

“You will not renew my bind after the year and the day?”

“I make an oath to you that after the year and a day, you may return here, and I will trouble you no more. I vow not to renew your bind.”

The sobbing inside turned into a long wailing sound.

“Please, time is short,” he pressed.

“Azure,” the voice broke off in another cry.

“Azure?” he asked, hopefully. “Your name is Azure?”

“Azurastra,” came the pained voice. “My name is Azurastra.”

“Thank you,” he said, standing back up. “Please be strong, Azurastra. I know how much this must frighten you.”

He closed his eyes and began to recite the ancient spell of binding. As he chanted, Azurastra began to wail and call out, asking again why had this happened. The weave of power began to encircle the dragon in a red band as the spell formed, and he started to speak conditions into its power. True to his word, he wove a limitation into the spell, binding Azurastra for only a year and a day.

He lowered his hands and looked down at the crying, shaking beast before him. Its wings shattered and broken, its body battered and torn.

The binding gave him a connection to the dragon. He could feel it now, feel faint echoes of the pain as the binding took hold. There was fear and hatred as well, and a sincere desire to die. He felt tremendous sorrow for the dragon. He had dedicated his life to mercy, and it wounded him to see anyone, even this dragon, suffering like this.

“It is done,” he said gently. He lifted his hands as he walked closer to the creature. “Now, let me help you. Let me show you mercy.”

He placed his hands on its shivering hide and closed his eyes. He was struck at how strong the scales felt, each as big as his hand and like a plate of armor. He put the marvel of those scales aside to focus on the task at hand, calling out to Astikar while opening his heart. The familiar flow of divine power that all true priests knew coursed through him. He was bathed in its embrace as he established the link between the immortal and mortal.

He channeled that power, concentrating it by chanting the tones that shaped the healing. His body became alive with a tingling sensation that felt like a wind rushing through him as it flowed through his soul. He focused it into the dying form of Azurastra, and a golden light covered the scales of the dragon's hide.

Azurastra shook and called out as if in pain. A snapping noise was heard as a bone in a leg suddenly straightened. Cracking sounds were heard as ribs healed back straight. All across the dragon's body, numerous gashes and holes began to close, ceasing the flow of blood.

Gersius struggled to maintain the healing. The dragon was so much larger than a man and was so severely wounded. To heal a man of injuries this severe would have been difficult. To heal the dragon was like healing thirty men near to death.

The large gaping wound in the dragon's side closed, and scales began to regrow. A second snapping noise was heard as a back leg suddenly straightened out.

His body began to ache, as his mind filled with pain. He held on as long as he could, channeling every last bit of divine power his body would tolerate. He felt his very skin start to burn as the great beast demanded more and more. Never had he channeled so much and felt such terrible agony. It was the price of going beyond your limits, pushing to where men were not meant to go. The priest could press on, but they exchanged their own life to maintain the channel, often absorbing the wound back on themselves.

There was a sudden series of pops and cracks, and the dragon shook as its tail went limp. The holes in its neck were gone, and its great head fell to the ground.

He gritted his teeth as the pain became unbearable. Through the channel of healing, he could sense the body on the other side. He felt the dragon's injuries still and knew it needed more, but he was beyond his limit. Everything he did from here was a risk to himself. With a cry of pain, he stumbled away, falling on his back, gasping rapidly for air as his hands shook.

He gave the dragon everything he could and more, spending every last shred of his power. He would need a full night of rest before he could heal more than a scratch. He took a moment to catch his breath before finally looking to Azurastra.

The dragon moved slowly, carefully. It leaned on its forearms, then carefully tested its hind legs. It trembled as if unsure but finally managed to stand on all four limbs. He caught a glimpse of its eyes to see tears running down its fearsome face.

Hope stirred in his heart as the dragon rose to its full height. He did it! He saved the dragon from dying and, by extension, saved his people. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, praising Astikar for his mercy.

“My wings!” came a horrified wail. “My beautiful wings!”

He fought to sit up and see what the problem was, and his heart sank. The body was whole, but the dragon's wings were still broken and torn. He hadn't been strong enough to restore such a large creature with so many injuries.

“My wings!” it cried fresh tears streaming from its eyes. It looked up at the sky as if longing to soar up. It fell back to the ground and curled back into a ball. “I can't fly!” it wailed. “I can't fly! What point is there to live if I can't fly!”

“I am so sorry. I was not strong enough,” he said, trying to crawl towards the beast.
.
“I want my wings back!” it wailed. “I want to fly again! Please, I am a dragon! It is my birthright to soar in the skies! You can not take this away from me!”

He wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't strong enough to heal the dragon fully alone. He needed more brothers to work together, channeling divine power. His power would slowly recover, but not in time. Not soon enough to make another attempt.

He gazed on the wings as his hopes fled again. They were a twisted and broken mess that would drag on the ground and get under foot. Not only was this dragon unable to fly, but it was crippled on the ground.

“My gold is gone, I am bound to a rodent, and I can't fly!” it cried. “Why didn't you kill me as I asked?”

Gersius wondered if, in the name of mercy, that might have been a better fate. He forced his need on this poor creature, and now it was a crippled shadow of its former self. He needed the dragon, and the hope it would inspire, but it would take him months to march a crippled creature back to Calathen. He simply didn't have the time. His mission had failed, after all.

“I am truly sorry,” he said, walking to stand beside the sobbing beast. “I did all I could.” He didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could do. He knelt beside it and put his hand to its side to steady it and let it cry.

For an hour the creature sobbed and pleaded for him to restore its wings. It tried several times to move them as if maybe they would straighten out. Each effort brought renewed tears and cries of “I can't fly.”

When at last, it settled down and started to breathe normally, Gersius spoke to it.

“What happened here? What happened to you?”

“He came and took my gold,” it said.

Who came?” Gersius asked.

“The red dragon of the black spires,” it sobbed. “He came here and tried to make me join his cause.” It paused to struggle with a series of deep sobs. “When I refused, he broke my wings and my legs. He took my gold and left me to die.”

“The red dragon of the black spires was here?” Gersius said in shock.

“Yes,” it replied in a broken wail.

“Why? Why would he do this to you? You are a dragon?”

“I am a blue, an ice dragon. He thinks he is superior to me, to all dragons. He demanded to know my name so his master could bind me,” Azurastra said. “He said all dragons would come to serve the Goramogoth.”

Gersius didn't recognize the name. He struggled to remember if he had ever heard it before, but his mind was blank. He did, however, know of the red. When he searched for a dragon to hunt the red was the first one he found. It lived in the mountains far to the west behind the marching armies of the Doan.

He decided to put his thoughts on the scene before him and what it meant. His eyes took in the crippled form of the dragon that could no longer fly. He was never going to be able to complete his mission now; he'd failed.

“Then I have failed,” Gersius said. “I have come all this way and failed.” He walked away and fell to his knees. “I have lost my men, the hope for my country, my people. I have left you crippled, unable to fly. How much more can I possibly fail?” he said. “You can not travel like this. You can not fly; you will barely be able to walk.”

“You should have killed me,” Azurastra cried.

“I did what I thought was right. I did what I felt needed to be done,” he said. “Never have I sought to harm someone, out of malice or spite.” He shook his head as if he couldn't believe this moment had come. “Only in protection and defense have I raised my weapon.” He threw his face to the heavens and called out in a loud voice. “What do I do now?”

The rumble of the distant waterfall answered him, and he felt a drop of water on his face. With eyes closed, he listened to that rumble, and took a deep breath, smelling the scent of water in the air. Here so far from men and war, he should know peace, but the weight of duty, of devotion, prevented him from seeing the beauty around him anymore.

He knelt there on the stony ground with a head cast down, his heart heavy with sorrow. His thoughts tormented him, causing his head to shake as if to deny them. Tears welled in his eyes at thoughts of his country burning, and the people being enslaved. He had time to save them, but where could he find another dragon? The red dragon was out of his reach. Only this blue was within his grasp.

Azurastra watched the man kneeling in the stone, shaking his head. He called out to the skies and was answered with silence, as his shoulders sank. He sat there saying nothing for longer than it wished to wait.

“Do you plan to kneel there all day?” the dragon said in a tense voice.

“I do not,” he said in reply.

Slowly he got up and looked across the ground to his helm and weapon.

“I must return to Calathen,” he said after a moment. “I will join my brothers and die battling the armies of the Doan.” He didn't turn, didn't look at Azurastra only spoke as if saying his final words. “You will stay here and live out your life...” He paused a look of pain on his face. “As best you can.”

Azurastra realized it was being abandoned to live a crippled, flightless life. In a panic, it thought of an option, but quickly dismissed it and went to guilt the priest instead.

“I am bound to you, priest!” Azurastra yelled. “You can't leave me here.”

“You can not travel with broken wings,” he argued back. “I do not have months to limp along the road with you. I am needed back as quickly as I can get there.”

Azurastra realized it had no choice. It would have to humiliate itself even more.
A long moment of silence passed then Azurastra spoke.

“I can walk.”

Gersius became irritated and turned to face the dragon. “How? How can you walk?” He gestured to the twisted wings. “You will trip on those with every step, and the pain will slow you down even more.”

The Dragon cast its head down, unable to hold his gaze.

“I can walk,” it said again.

“How?” he demanded.

With a sniffle, the dragon stood, groaning is it shifted its broken wings. A white mist suddenly crawled across its body, shrouding it from his sight. The mist billowed out, forming a great swirling cloud completely engulfing the dragon's form.

Gersius heard a rustling noise like leaves blowing in the wind. He shielded his eyes for a second when an intense flash of light escaped from the cloud of mist. Then all at once, the sound was gone, as the mist ceased its motion.

“Azurastra?” he called as the fog began to dissipate.

A shape moved in the cloud and out stepped a woman. Tall and lithe, with blue eyes that glowed with fire. Her hair was smooth and silky, a bluish silver in color, and it washed down her back, collecting at her waist. Her skin was pale, and strange blue tattoos of interwoven lines ran across her shoulders and down her back.

She stepped out of the cloud naked with her arms folded over her chest, trembling before him.

“Azurastra?” he questioned, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I told you I can walk.”

---

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for reading. I may have written this to cope with my fear and pain but once I was over that I discovered just how much I wanted to share. Also please point out grammar errors. I really want to try and clean this up.

 

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Dragon Knight prophecy Book 1 Chapter 2 I wish I could fly



Gersius stood motionless with raised brows, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“You? You are a woman. A human woman?” he finally managed to stammer out.

“I am female if that is what you mean,” she said, turning her head and trying not to look at him. “But I am no human.” Her words came out as if the term human was filthy in her mouth.

“I had no idea dragons could take a human form.”
“We all can, though we seldom choose to do it,” she said while rubbing her nose and brushing tears from her eyes.

“We all can, though we seldom choose to do it,” she said while rubbing her nose and brushing tears from her eyes.

“But you are so...” he caught himself before finishing the sentence. He stared for a long moment, unable to believe what he was seeing. Was this Azurastra? Was this the dragon he saw a moment ago? She shook from head to toe as tears welled up in her eyes only to be brushed away with her hand. Her shame was apparent in the way she turned her head, avoiding his gaze.

“We must find you something to wear,” he said after a long pause. “You can not travel like that. You must be cold.”

“I am an ice dragon. It doesn't matter what form I choose to take; I don't feel the cold.”

“Still, where I need to take you a naked woman will lead to trouble.”

It was then she seemed to understand and glanced at his eyes for a second before clutching her arms even more tightly over her body.

“Stop staring at me!” she demanded. “How much humiliation must you make me endure?”

His face flushed with embarrassment as he averted his eyes. Quickly he reached for the clasps of his cloak, pulling it free and walking around her. “Here, this will help,” he said, wrapping it around her shaking form. “This will do until we get back to where I camped. I have an extra shirt and pants in my pack.”

Her hands carefully grabbed at the edges of the cloak, pulling it tightly around herself. A slight cry escaped her trembling lips, and she had to wipe her nose again.

He paused to consider his next words. She was emotionally devastated and needed some time to heal, but time wasn't something they had. The war would not wait for this dragon to recover; he needed to move now. He ran his fingers through his wild hair and reluctantly pressured her to move.

“We should begin walking. The sooner we get to camp, the sooner we can get you something to wear,” he said, holding out his hand only to be swatted away in irritation.

“I don't need your help,” she spat, voice strained and full of pain.

“I did not mean to insult you.”

“Everything you have done to me is an insult,” she cried. “You bound me. Left me a cripple, and forced me to take this inferior form.”

“I was not trying to insult you. I was trying to help you.”

“You call this help?”

“My lady, please, we do not have time for this.”

“I am not your lady,” she barked at him, her voice going thin. “I am your slave.”

He wasn't sure what to say to her to calm her down. She had been through much suffering, and the binding was probably the greatest of them. She was a dragon, a creature of majestic might and power, and she was now bound and helpless to a man. She was magically sealed and forced to serve his will. She would not be able to raise so much as a finger against him. That didn't include swatting his hand, he mused.

“Please, we have to go,” he said regretfully.

She took a long forlorn look at the cave beside the waterfall tears pouring down her cheeks. He understood the pain she was feeling and wanted to offer some measure of comfort.

“I promise you will come back. I will make sure you come home again.”

She choked on a cry and shook her head. “There is nothing for me to come back to.”

With a sigh, he struggled with his feelings. He'd come all this way to find a dragon and save a people, but now he felt like a monster, tearing a woman from her home and marching her into slavery. If he abandoned her, she would languish here, crippled and alone. If he took her with, he was using her to unite an empire she cared nothing about. Neither choice was good, but he consoled himself in the knowledge that he hadn't done this. Another dragon was to blame for her condition, and he tried his best to right the situation. Maybe if he could get her to Calathen? He shook that thought away and focused on what had to be done, even though he hated doing it.

“Please,” he said again, motioning her forward. “This way.”

She took one trembling step and then another. Her sobs renewed as she slowly began to walk.

They traveled across the lonely valley her gentle sobs the only sound made between them. Her arms stretched across her chest, clutching the cloak over her shoulders, while her head was cast down, staring at the ground like a broken soul with nothing left to live for.

When they reached the cave, he lit the second torch carefully leading the way. He watched as she followed, taking small steps, and always looking down. He made sure he didn't get ahead to keep her within the light of the torch. He noted the blue light in her eyes and the occasional flicker of blue flame that danced on their surface. Even her tears glowed briefly as they rolled down her cheeks. He began to wonder if she needed the light, perhaps her eyes could see better in the dark than his.

He tried to speak with her, but she never responded. She kept her head cast down, looking at the floor and gently sobbed. When they finally reached the cave opening on the other side, he offered to help her negotiate the rocky slope, but she refused.

Twice she stumbled and fell, but refused his assistance. When she slipped and hurt her knee, she screamed at how weak and frail this form was.

“How do you stand it?” she cried. “How do you rodents endure being so weak?”

He knelt beside her and laid his hand on her knee, offering another prayer. The strain to heal even this minor scratch was exhausting and forced him to test his limits again. Until he had time to rest and pray, this would be all he could do. A soft golden light spread across her skin, and her wound faded away.

He had to take a few minutes to catch his breath and shake away the sapping pain that he felt inside. He prayed they would need no more healing until he recovered. When he felt strong enough to continue, he looked at her as she sat huddled on the ground.

Gersius offered her his hand to help her up, and for the first time, she took it. He looked down at her blazing eyes, and she quickly looked away as if ashamed of what she was doing. He helped her to her feet and helped her negotiate the rocky slope of the mountain until they reached the flatter ground. Even here, there were many large boulders and stones, forcing them to choose a careful path.

They traveled an hour as the world around them slipped deeper into darkness. The sun was low, and he realized the campsite was still over an hour away. Looking at Azurastra, he felt his heart sink. She stepped carefully over the broken ground, her bare feet testing each step. She was moving too slowly, and they were never going to reach camp by nightfall.

“My lady,” he said as she stepped over a large rock.

She glanced up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“My lady, the sun is setting. We must reach camp before nightfall.”

She didn't respond only continued to pick her way across the broken ground.

“Azurastra,” he said in a stronger voice. This time she stopped and looked right at him.

“We have to go faster. Come, let me carry you,” he said, holding his arms open.

“Never!” she hissed, sounding more like a dragon than a human.

“We have to go faster. There are wolves in the woods,” he argued.

“Let them eat me then! I don’t want any more of your help!”

He understood her suffering and how fresh the wounds were, but his nerves and patience were growing thin. He desperately needed to get to camp where he could rest and clear his mind. There was only one way they were going to get there in time.

“Azurastra,” he said again, this time more commanding. “Come here. I will carry you.”

She glared at him and resisted the command, but the binding compelled her. She felt the chains of the bind tearing at her mind forcing her to want to obey him. She picked her way over to him, shuttering with each step as she tried to resist the impulse.

“How dare you command me!” she hissed at him again.

“I tried to ask your permission,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and scooped her up. “I have no choice. The hills are too dangerous at night. We must reach the camp.”

She shook he cradled her to his chest, using the cloak as a cushion between her and his armor. She let out a quiet sob as she shrunk inward, pulling into a tight ball as if to crawl away from him.

He carried her over the rocks into the nearby trees that dotted the landscape. As he held her quietly sobbing form to his chest, he wondered if this was really a dragon. This broken, crying creature lacked the ferocity and terror that a dragon inspired. Even now, he could feel her gasping sobs in his arms though she struggled to make them silent.

The trees grew denser as he carried her on. The smell of earth and wood came to his senses as he picked his way through the mossy trunks. Fallen leaves, and the needles of pine littered the ground, crunching beneath his feet. He had to lift her to carry her over brambles and thorns and struggled to hold his balance when he had to descend a steep hill.

Finally, he passed through the wall of trees into the meadow where the camp was hidden. He spotted the nearby stream and followed it to the rocky outcropping. There, hidden in the shadow of the rock, was his backpack and bedroll. Carefully he set her down and set about digging in his pack. Around them, the land was a sea of shadows. The colors dark and muted as the sun's rays began to dip behind the mountains.

“Here,” he said, handing her a simple wool shirt and brown pants. “Put these on.” He paused until she began to look at the clothing. “I will wait on the other side of the rock until you finish,” he added, walking off to give her some privacy.

She waited until he was out of sight before dropping the cloak from her shoulders. Slowly she struggled to get into the pants and shirt. She fought with the shirt making several attempts and growing frustrated. She briefly considered tearing it to shreds instead of trying to wear it. She had to hold the garment up and look it over carefully to understand. She tried twice more before finally getting it right. The pants were much easier but far too large. She had to hold a handful of the material at her waist to keep them on, and even then, they looked like she had bags on each leg. She was not at all comfortable in the clothing, and pulled at the material, trying to make it feel better.

“Are you done?” he called from the far side of the rock.

“Yes,” was all she said.

He came back around to see her standing there, a shirt three times her size draped over her like a sheet, and a pair of pants so loose and poorly fitting that even a beggar wouldn't have worn them.

“Why do I have to wear this?” she asked with contempt.

“It is only to preserve your modesty. I will get you something more appropriate when I can.”

“What is modesty?” she asked.

“In this human form, you are naked. You cannot go into human lands like this. People will immediately take notice of you, and it will attract attention. When we get to the towns and cities, I need you to pass through safe and unnoticed. You will most assuredly not be safe if you are naked.”

“You rodents don't even have the good sense to grow enough hair to cover yourselves when you clearly want to be covered,” she said insultingly.

“I need you to wear those until I can get you clothing that fits,” he said, growing tired of her complaints.

She tugged at the hem of the pants to show him how poorly they did fit. “How am I supposed to walk in this?” she demanded to know.

“I have a belt,” he said, reaching back into his pack. He produced a leather strap and walked toward her. “Hold of the hem with both hands,” he instructed her.

She did as she was told, and he wrapped the leather band around her waist twice. He seemed to struggle with it when he realized just how much belt he had leftover.

“You are a very thin human for such a big dragon,” he said, puzzling the solution out.

“My human form mirrors my solus,” she said.

“What is a solus?” Gersius asked, confused.

“You rodents know nothing of the spirit world,” she said irritated. “It is my life force, my energy, it is a reflection of who I am,” she stated as she struggled to hold up the pants.

Gersius was pleased that she was talking with more strength and fewer tears. Insulting and belittling the “rodents,” as she called them, seemed to bring her new life.

“My form is a reflection of what my solus energy looks like,” she clarified.

Gersius listened as he struggled but finally gave up with the belt.

“This is not going to work.”

He went back to his pack and discarded the belt. He turned the pack to the side to reveal a small loop of rope strapped to it. He pulled it free and walked back with the rope in hand.

She shook, and her eyes went wide as she watched him he approach with the rope. Her mouth fell open, and she reached up with one hand as if to push him away.

“You have my soul bound!” she pleaded. “You don't need to tie me!”

He stopped in his steps and looked at her with a stone expression. “This is not to tie you,” he said, shaking the rope in his hands. “I just need something I can cut to make you a smaller belt.”

His explanation didn’t seem to help, and she looked down at the rope again.

“What is a belt?”

He sighed. “Let me show you.”

She continued to shake as he wrapped the cord around her waist and pulled it tight. He measured a foot more than was required and cut it with a knife from his waist. Pulling the rope, he tied it in a knot at her stomach and stepped back.

“There, that should hold until I can find something more suitable.”

She let go of the hem carefully, and the pants slid down her hips a little, but the rope held it firmly in place. She went to walk, but several inches of the material now dragged on the ground around her feet.

“There's only one solution for that,” he said while pulling his knife back out. He cut the excess material away, exposing her feet below the ankles. “I am going to have to find you some shoes,” he said, looking at her feet. “I can not carry you all the way to Calathen.”

“I never asked you to carry me,” she said with an angry tone.

“A few long days of walking on your bare feet, and you will,” he said, moving away from her.

She went silent at his words and suddenly felt frightened. She hurriedly picked up the discarded cloak, wrapping herself in it and pulling it closed.

“Are you cold?” he asked when he noticed what she was doing.

“I told you I don't get cold! Why do I have to repeat myself to you?” Her voice was strained but had more strength in it.

Gersius shrugged and walked to his pack. Behind it was a pile of sticks and branches, he had prepared beforehand. He began pulling them out and stacking them in a neat pile. He knelt before the sticks and took up a small stone, clasping it between his palms. He whispered to it and quickly opened his hands to drop the stone into the pile of sticks. It began to change colors, glowing with orange light. The sticks around it began to smoke and smolder. In an instant, a flame appeared, and the sticks started to burn.

“You are a fire shaper?” Azurastra asked, watching him from the side.

“It is a small blessing of warmth,” he said, not bothering to look at her. “If you channel the warmth into something tiny and strong, like a stone, for example, you can cause it to become hot enough to burn.”

“But that is fire shaping,” she said more insistent.

“That is a divine blessing. I told you I am a priest,” he said, a firm tone in his voice. “I am not a shaper or a weaver. I do not force magic to do what I want; I pray for blessings.”

“And the divines force magic to do what you want for you,” she said mockingly.

He eyed her with contempt and shook his head. He knew she was only lashing out, but his god was everything to him, and such words dug to his core. He focused his attention on the fire instead, feeding larger branches into the flames to build it up. Satisfied with the fire, he busied himself with removing his heavy armor. Buckles came loose, and the cool night air rushed in as the breastplate was removed. Carefully he set it down on the ground and started on the buckles on his legs. He glanced at her only briefly to see her watching him through the glare of the campfire, her blue eyes glowing with a pale light,

He cast his armor aside piece by piece until he stood there dressed in only his shirt and pants. She sat there, quietly watching him as he stacked it neatly beside his pack.

At first, she didn't understand what the rodent was doing, then realized the metal skin came off. It seemed a silly thing to take such a protective layer away. Why make yourself more vulnerable? If she had her way, she would never wear this pathetic rodent form. Why did dragons even have this curse? What dragon would want to discard strong scales for weak rodent flesh?

Now that the metal was off, she saw what was underneath. He wore the same things she had on, but now understood how they were supposed to fit. She held up her arms and looked down at the billowing material realizing she looked foolish.

His motion caught her attention, and she looked up again. He now stood rolling the muscles in his back as he pulled the shirt away, hanging it over the top of his armor. The firelight glinted off the worked muscles of his upper body. He looked healthy, she guessed, though she had little to compare him with. His body was broad, well defined, and dotted in places by marks, and scars from wounds long since healed.

He reached into his pack and took out a thick rag and walked past the fire toward the stream.

“Where are you going?” she asked as he walked into the darkness beyond.

“I want to wash. Wearing armor all day is hot and uncomfortable,” he replied as he walked away.

She watched him go and then sat alone by the fire. What was going to happen to her? How would she ever be happy again? Why hadn't he just killed her like she asked? Alone with her thoughts, she began to cry as her eyes looked up to the night sky, she would never fly again.

Gersius knelt at the shore of the stream, cupping his hands in the water. He threw the water in his face and let its refreshing cool bite soothe his skin. Again he splashed himself imagining the worries he now carried washing away with the sweat.

He thought of the disaster that was his mission, and the men who paid the price for it. The leadership argued against it, citing he was needed for the war. He insulted them all buy invoking a sacred right as a knight captain and demanded the men and time to quest for his god.

The leadership sneered and called for condemnation. Gersius was risking his entire career on this one bold move, so sure it was the right thing to do. When they continued to stand against them, he went a step further, calling them weak and unfit for their positions. He pointed out the law was established by Astikar himself, and they had no authority to deny him.

At last, the highest member of their order, a man who carried the title of Father Abbot, spoke. He silenced the councils and leaders, granting Gersius his demand. It was a half victory, however, and when Gersius provided a list of men, he was flatly refused. The couldn't deny him his right to go, but they could choose who he could take. They restricted the choice to new men who had barely completed their training, and then, only if they volunteered.

Gersius was enraged at the decision. Without veterans, the mission would be far more challenging. He rebuked them publicly, causing some to call for his dismissal. The Father Abbot weighed in again, calming the assembly of leaders. He explained to Gersius that the war was the most pressing matter, and the veterans were needed on the front lines. Surely if Astikar meant for him to go on this quest, he would bless Gersius's efforts, and green soldiers would not hinder him. He added a last remark that struck him as a veiled insult, citing the real fighting would be waiting for him when he returned.

Unhappy with the men he was given, he set out. He took a route that carried him far to the south away from the main roads. He didn't want to be seen in any major towns or cities where spies of the enemy might report his position. Whenever possible, they traveled cross country and made directly for the forest of the Greenwall.

He came to know the men and grow fond of them as they traveled. Every one of them was young and hopeful, not yet tainted by the strife or war. To them, this was an adventure, following in the wake of a hero of the order. He spent the nights in camp telling them stories of his campaigns and encouraging their hearts for Astikar. He knew so long as they had pure intentions and strong hearts, they would be successful.

His eyes looked deep into the dark water of the stream as he let out a long sigh. They were all dead, and he felt the loss profoundly in his soul. It was a deep guilt that haunted him whenever he had a moment to think about it. Even now, he could hear those screams in the night begging him to save them.

Another man would have given up and gone back, to terrified to go on. Another might have fled to try and hide from the responsibility. He chose to go on, determined to do what he set out to do. He told himself it was for Astikar and the safety of the people. He tried to convince himself that he was brave, but he knew the truth. He went on because of cowardice.

He shook his head as he laughed at the irony of facing a dragon out of cowardice. He faced that dragon because he feared the shame of defeat more than death. If he had returned defeated, the leadership would have torn him to shreds. Mocking him and making a spectacle of his failure. He would lose everything, his rank, his command, his reputation. Even his family would be dishonored by the time they were done with him.

He stared into the dark water, shedding tears of his own. The pressure was on him, and he did what he always did, swallowing the pain, refusing to show weakness. He stole a glance at the camp to see Azurastra squatting down, playing with something on the ground beside the fire.

He shook his head, trying to justify what he was doing. Was going on just furthering his cowardice? Was he justified in taking her away from her home? As he asked these questions, he saw what would happen if he didn't. His people would be slaughtered, and his homelands burned. Everyone he knew and loved dead or worse as the Doan swept across all he knew. Even his faith was at risk, the heart of Astikar's faith was spread across the old empire. The Doan would sweep it aside, burning the temples and killing the priests. It would be a catastrophe on a scale he feared to imagine.

He glanced at Azurastra again, watching as she huddled in his cloak, her eyes red with tears she could no longer cry. She was the price of his people's salvation, this shattered creature crying by the fire.

“What am I going to do now?” he whispered as he watched her. He was alone and alive despite his hopes at death. He found his dragon after all, but she turned out to be a symbol of his own tragic life. A crippled dragon so broken it could no longer fly and begged him to kill it.”

Had he but five of his brothers, they could have combined their healing power, and the dragon would be whole. Her wounds were far too great for one man, and soon too much time would pass to heal them. They would forever be beyond any mortal power to restore. It wouldn't matter if he tried again; his power was spent. Healing the small scrape on her knee had been exhausting, and the blessing of warmth had hurt. By the time he had the strength to try again, it would be too late.

It was a moment of supreme arrogance to believe he could heal her fully. He doubted it from the moment he suggested he could but held on to hope. Was this his cowardice again? Did he think he could return with his dragon after all? Be the symbol the people and the shattered kingdoms needed to unit them all, and give them the will to fight?

He threw more water in his face shaking his head to throw the excess off. He was a fool, and he knew it. He couldn't heal a dragon, especially one that size with such terrible wounds. It was a miracle her legs healed, and the bleeding stopped. Even he wasn't sure how he managed that much.

He should have killed her, ended her torment, but no. He saw some chance to redeem himself and return a hero. He saw a chance to avoid the shame of defeat and the scorn of his leadership. There would still be some questions raised over the loss of his men, but a dragon would mean victory.

He looked over his shoulder again at his broken dragon. What victory was his leadership going to see in her? What heroic symbol were the people going to rally behind? When she crawled through the golden gates of Calathen crying as she dragged her mangled wings, what triumph was he going to claim? When he saw those wings and realized she was never going to be the dragon he needed, he tried to abandon her. He would run away and forget his failure to return home to face his shame anyway.

He wasn't prepared for what happened next. He had no idea dragons could change from, let alone take one that was human. When she changed, his spinning mind grasped at a new hope. Could he bring her back instead?

He took a few deep breaths before dipping his cloth into the stream. He used it to wipe his arms and shoulders, desperate to cast away the sweat and shame.

He went for a dragon and instead found a broken woman who hated him. How was he going to return with her? What was he going to tell the Father Abbot? This frail, crying child of a woman was his dragon?

He was sure she could change back, and he tried to comfort himself with that. But what would they think when they saw a dragon with twisted and mangled wings? What would they think when she cried before them? She would never be the symbol of strength and hope the people needed. He would never be the hero that delivered it. He shook his head and fought back a wave of frustration. He had to try, though, had to try and make something of this dragon.

The trees rustled as a breeze descended from the peaks above, blanketing the clearing in a cool alpine breeze. Gersius closed his eyes and let his mind go blank to enjoy the soothing gift.

Could he make something of her, or was this more of his stupidity? Was he piling mistakes on top of his mistakes compounding his troubles? Was bringing her back a symbol of his desperation and his fear? All he had were questions. Questions he could not answer because he no longer trusted his own judgment. He knew only one thing for sure. He had gone into that valley to die, and even in this task, he had failed.

He walked back to camp, his mind troubled by what he was doing. Azurastra had moved away from the fire and was now sitting on the rock above it, looking at the sky. As he entered the light of the fire, she glanced at him and then hurriedly looked away.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I used to be able to fly,” she said. “I want to fly again.” She descended into low deep sobs and covered her face with her hands.

He shook his head at the futility of it all. He should have gone back when his men were killed. He should have ended her life and returned to face judgment. He should have never gone on this fool’s quest in the first place!

He sat down, leaning against the rock and listened to her cry. His own eyes wet with tears at the sound as he closed them and settled in to rest. He briefly thought about food but decided he wasn't hungry, all that mattered now was sleep.

“I am so sorry my brothers, I am so sorry my people, and I am so sorry, Azurastra,” he said under his breath as his weary eyes began to find the blissful peace of sleep.

He awoke when the first rays of the sun crept across the meadow. With a yawn, he stretched his limbs in the morning cold and slowly got to his feet. He looked around for Azurastra and found her still atop the rock curled in a ball in his cloak sound asleep. He sighed when he saw her eyes were still red from labored crying.

He took a deep breath as he walked out of the camp, crossed the stream, and headed up the hill on the far side. He was looking for a place to be alone and open his heart. He needed to be connected and feel the warm embrace of his faith.

Yesterday had been a trial of faith and will, for what purpose he did not know. All he knew was his emotions were too close to the surface, and his temper was short. The pain of his failures clawed at the back of his mind keeping him on edge. If Azurastra added to those frustrations, he worried he would break.

He needed to clear his mind and recover his balance. The night's rest had restored some of his strength, opening his heart to his god would restore more. Through prayer, the power of the divine flowed through him and restored what was lost. It would still be a few days before he was fully recovered, but he felt less vulnerable. He picked a spot on the hill that was clear of brush and sank to his knees.

Azurastra awoke to the sound of a distant chant on the wind. She lifted her head and looked out over the meadow. There she saw Gersius kneeling in the grass his head back his arms held out with palms turned up. He was chanting in a language she did not understand. His voice clear and strong carried a strange power across the open expanse.

He was the source of all her pain now, and she glared at him in rage. He should have finished her off and ended her suffering. He offered her hope instead, saying he was a priest, who could help her. In a moment of weakness, she gave him her true name of power, and he bound her with it.

Even now, she could feel something of him stirring inside. It was his control, the chains of the bind sapping her will with a presence in her mind. When he commanded her to walk to him, she felt the bind take over. Even as her rational mind screamed no, an intense desire to obey him washed over her, feeling the need to do as he said and went right to his arms. What limit did such power have? What command would she not follow? What might he ask her to do? She folded her arms about herself, rocking back and forth at the disturbing image.


She was bound to a rodent who promised to heal her and failed. Her beautiful wings were still mangled and torn, aching whenever she tried to move them. She would never fly again and know the freedom of the open sky. The thought brought renewed tears as the memory of what she once was flooded her heart. Her life was meaningless now, devoid of any purpose or joy. Dragons prided themselves on ruling the skies, flying above the world like royalty. It was her birthright to soar through the kingdom of the sky. Now she was a worm, doomed to crawl in the mud like the rodent who enslaved her.

When he saw the broken wings, he tried to abandon her. She was of no value to him, just a hindrance that would slow him down. In a moment of weakness, she revealed to him her shiva, her human shape, and he changed his mind. She regretted it now, regretted ever having believed a word he had said. He intended to march her across the lands as a prize, a living trophy of his conquests. She knew the other rodents would mock her and throw stones. She would be helpless to defend herself bound to him as she was. He would use the bind to command her to perform for them, and she would be sickened as it made her desire to do so.

Far off, his voice picked up a new tempo and snapped her out of her angry thoughts. There was a magic in the rhythm of it, a harmony of divine power. She scowled at the thought of it as the anger returned. She was power manifest, an ice dragon, worthy of being feared and worshiped alike. Still, she was surprised his voice which sounded coarse and rough, could hold such a rhythmic smoothness. It held a beauty she had never encountered before and was perhaps the first thing about him she begrudgingly liked.

A tear dripped from her eye as she huddled back into his cloak. For some reason, she felt some measure of security in it. She closed her eyes and sniffed as she wrapped it around herself like she would her wings, covering herself and keeping safe.

As she huddled there, listening to the tones of his voice, her mind began to wander. She was in this horribly low position because of another dragon. A dragon who arrogantly demanded her loyalty and her name, then attacked her when she refused. The savageness of that attack took her completely by surprise and immediately played into his hands. He beat her, breaking her wings, her tail, and all but one of her legs. He mocked her as she crawled in the dirt, dying at his feet, then flew to the cave to steal her hoard. She was helpless to stop him, and he took from her all that mattered in this world, her hoard.

Gersius's voice changed again, his song weaving in and out of tones of power. She looked up for only a moment before continuing her thoughts. All of this pain and humiliation she now endured was that dragon's fault. Her mind fixated on his image, burning it into her memory. If she had her wings and her freedom, she would hunt him down and kill him

It was only as she shook with rage that she noticed the chanting had stopped. She looked out over the meadow and saw him walking along the stream, a long stick in his hands. He speared the water a time or two, and she wondered what he was doing. Eventually, he pulled his stick out to reveal a large fish flapping at its end. He cast it aside and worked at the water again, stabbing and cursing from the sound of it as he tried to catch more. Once he had three, he returned to the camp and set them aside, before working to rekindle the fire.

“I see you are awake,” he said as she crawled down from her roost above him. “I hope you had a good night's sleep.”

Once he had the fire going, he picked up the fish and started to work on them with his knife.

“Is that for,” she started to say and hesitated. “Is any of that for me?”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, turning to look at her with a slight smile on his lips. “You did not think I could eat three fish, did you?”

She looked down at the fish on the rock between them.

“So I can have one?” she asked timidly.

“Of course, just let me—” but he never finished his words.

She reached out and took hold of a fish with both hands and hungrily sank her teeth into it.

“What are you doing?” Gersius said, surprised.

She looked up at him with a mouth full of fish. “You said I could haff one.”

“Yes, but the fish is raw,” he said. “I have not even gutted it yet.”

She took another bite and hungrily chewed it. “What is raw?”

Gersius almost laughed at the sight of her. “We humans prefer to cook our fish before we eat them.”

“Why?” she said, taking another bite.

“Because we are not dragons, I suppose,” he said, holding out his hand. “Here, give it to me; let me show you.”

“You said I could have one,” she replied, clutching the fish to her chest.

“I just want to show you what I mean. You can still have the fish.”

She took another bite, unwilling to part with it.

“Fine, I will cook the other two and let you try one of those,” he said with a wave of his hand and turned away from her shaking his head.

She watched as he scraped the fish removing the scales. She had to admit that they were sticking in her teeth and crunched uncomfortably in her mouth. He then cut them open and removed the organs and cast them aside. She wondered if he would mind if she ate them since he wasn't going to.

He rested the split fish halves on a stick and hung it over the low fire. She didn't understand what he was trying to do as the fish sizzled in the heat. She looked back at him as she began to struggle with the bones of the fish she had. Her jaws were human, not those of a dragon, and the bones resisted her ability to chew them.

“How do you weaklings eat?” she said, pulling a bone from her mouth.

“I was trying to tell you earlier,” he answered while shuffling through his backpack.

“Your kind can't even chew its food.”

“We do not eat the bones,” Gersius said, taking a small jar from his pack.

“What a waste,” she added, tossing another bone aside.

“I see you are in better spirits this morning.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she said.

“There is more fire in your belly,” he said, bending over the fish and sprinkling something on them.

“There is no fire in my belly. I am an ice dragon,” she said in a mocking tone.

“It is an expression. It means you are more alive, more energetic.”

“I had a good sleep,” she said, casting her eyes down. She shuffled her feet and glanced back up. “What are you doing to those fish?”

“I am cooking them.”

“Why?” she asked again.

He looked as if he was unsure how to answer, then motioned with his hand for her to come forward. “Come here.”

She stepped forward slowly and walked closer to the fire.

“Use your nose, and take a deep breath, fill it with the smoke.”

She looked at him uncertain but did as she was told and leaned a little closer. She took a long, deep inhale and filled her nose with a pleasing scent. She had never smelled anything like it before, and she suddenly felt even more hungry.

She looked down at the fish and knew the pleasing scent was coming from them. She realized she wanted to eat a cooked one, and she lost control of herself. She reached down and grabbed a fish over the fire. With a cry of pain, she dropped the fish into the coals and staggered back, shaking her hand up and down.

“Ow!” she screamed, stumbling away.

Gersius scrambled after her trying to grab hold of her hand.

“My hand!” she wailed tears coming to her eyes.

Gersius tried to take her hand to heal the burn, but she fought with him and pushed him away.

“Give me your hand, you fool girl!” Gersius shouted, his temper finally breaking.

She flailed about forcing him to grab her and fight her for the hand.

“My hand is burned!” she cried.

“Shhhh,” he said to her pressing her hand between his.

His voice descended into a low intonation like the chant on the hill. She felt a warm tingling spread through her hand, and the pain subsided. When he stopped chanting, she quickly pulled her hand away and turned it over before her eyes. It was just her hand, no burn, no marks.

“You are like a child!” came a harsh voice snapping her out of her examination.

She looked up to see anger on the face of Gersius, and the look made her uncomfortable.

“You behave like a foolish little girl,” he said again, turning to see if he could salvage the fish dropped in the fire.

“How dare you talk to me like that rodent!” she yelled back angrily. “I am above you, high and mighty! I am an ice dragon, I am—“ she never finished her words as Gersius whirled around and raced toward her. The look of anger on his face made her stagger back, but she hit the rock wall. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, gathering the material into his fist until it was choking her.

He dragged her off, marching her past the fire and down the hill to the stream. He stopped at the edge and forced her down, leaning her face over the water.

“Look down there, what do you see?” he demanded. “Do you see a dragon or a fool girl?”

She looked down into the water and saw her reflection on its surface. She had a panicked look on her face, and her eyes were full of fear. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to see or say, so she did the only thing that made sense and started to cry again.

Gersius held her over the water and thought about throwing her in. His anger boiled to the surface as his pain threatened to overwhelm him, but then he heard her start to cry. He realized he’d gone too far, that he had overreacted. The pain and frustration of his failures had come rushing out, and she had born the brunt of it. He loosed his grip and gently pulled her away from the water.

“I, I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and continued to cry.

“Look, there is still a fish left. I will show you how to eat it, so you do not get burned,” he said, trying to soothe her.

“I don't want the fish!” she wailed her mouth open in uncontrolled sobs. “I want to go home. I just want to fly home!” she cried, falling to her knees.

Gersius knelt beside her and looked out over the water. He struggled to think of something to say. Even here, he had failed. He had allowed his pain to cloud his mind and make him angry. He realized that he blamed her for not being the dragon he needed. He realized he was not the man he thought he was. There were no words of comfort he could offer her, but at the very least, he could share her pain.

“I wish I knew what it was like to fly,” he said softly. “We humans always look up at the birds and wonder what it must be like, to soar through the heavens.”

She descended into short gasping wails as he spoke.

“It must be amazing to see the world from above, to look down on it all. I wish I knew, wish I could appreciate it as you do.” He paused and gave her time to breathe. “I am just a man. I can not see the world through your eyes, or appreciate the loss you must feel. Still, I can see the pain of it clearly on your face. I can understand that you are hurting in a way that can not be described in words.” He paused again and listened to her struggling to control her gasps.

“I am sorry, Azurastra. I am so very sorry I yelled at you. I am not like you, not strong and sure. I let my fears and worries cloud my thoughts, and I took them out on you.”

He waited as her breathing started to smooth, and her sobbing grew farther apart.

“There is only one thing I can do for you,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her to him and held her fast to his chest. He did the only thing he could think to do and held her.

“I am so sorry,” he said, his own eyes tearing up.

Her mind was too lost in sorrow to fight him, and this rodent form too weak to resist. She struggled to control her sobs as her body trembled in rage and sorrow. Her mind implored her to scream at him and beg him one final time to kill her. As she worked up the will to beg him to end her suffering, she felt something wet on her head. She wiped her eyes and sniffed as she got control and finally heard him crying.

Minutes passed as he held her, his tears gently falling into her hair. She felt such a swell of emotions, rage mixed with fear forming a toxic poison. She wanted to go home, wanted to spread her wings, and fly away. Everything that mattered to her was gone, even her freedom, but what had he said? He said he was sorry for frightening her, and took the blame for what happened. He also said he wished he could know what it was like to fly?

She felt something deep inside, something of him something new. It came from the chains of the bind, forcing her to share this moment with him somehow. Whatever this feeling was, it was entirely new for her, and she could not resist it. She didn't even mind his arm holding her, instead feeling a strange sense of comfort in it. Again she thought of his words, how he wished to know what it was like to fly.

“It is the most amazing thing,” she said in a strained voice.

He lifted his head when she spoke. “What is?” he asked.

“Flying,” she said. “To feel the wind on your wings, and see the earth passing by in a blur.” She rubbed her nose and took a staggered breath. “I liked... I liked the clouds. When you get above them, and they block your view of the ground. It's as if there is nothing but endless sky.” She sobbed as she remembered it, and he held her until she could continue. “I would fly for hours, just to be free and feel alive. It is a dragon's birthright to rule the sky, to fly and soar above it all. I have no reason to live without my wings. I don't want to live,” she said, breaking down into sobs again.

“Shhh,” Gersius said, rocking her in his arms. “I do not know why any of this happened to you, and I hate what I must do. I hate that I must take you away from your home.”

She pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. She saw that his eyes now were rimmed with tears, tears for her, for her loss. She decided to ask him the question that burned in her heart.

“Why didn't you heal my wings?”

“Because I was not strong enough,” he answered. He put his hands to her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “If I could heal your wings, I swear to you I would. I would never have left you like this if I could have prevented it. When one channels the power of divine healing, the power focuses on the most critical injuries first, the life-threatening ones. The more injured a person is, the more power a priest has to channel. It takes a toll on the priest. There is only so much one priest can do, to push beyond those limits, is to risk death.”

“Can you try again? Can you do it now?” she pleaded with him desperately.

“Azurastra, the healing has to be done when the wounds are fresh. Once the body begins to set, the healing will not see it as an injury. We can not regrow a lost limb, or a blinded eye if the injury is even a few hours old. I am afraid too much time has already passed.”

“I want my wings back,” she whimpered, looking away.

“I want you to have your wings back,” he said, still holding her shoulders. “But I do not know how to give them to you, maybe there—“ He paused, not wanting to give her hope where there might be none. Still, he knew there might be a way. If he could get her to his brothers at the temple in Calathen. It was a chance, but he didn't dare tell her, not yet.

He looked at the sun as it began to climb the sky. “I am sorry I shouted at you. I am sorry I have to drag you away from your home, and I am sorry any of this happened to you.” He took a deep breath. “I do what I must do, what duty demands, and duty demands that I bring you to Calathen. We cannot stay here much longer. We have to be on the road soon.”

“Why?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“Because I need you in Calathen,” was all he said.

Slowly he stood and held his hand down to her. She took it begrudgingly, and he helped her up. She walked back up the hill trailing behind him with her eyes cast down, her breath still quiet sobs.

He packed his backpack and stomped out the fire. The fish on the stick had blackened in the heat, and neither one of them touched it. He glanced again at the sun as it made its way across the sky and then looked out into the trees.

“We need to head west through the forest for the better part of the day. We should reach the logging road before sundown,” he said, not looking back at her.

He then turned and started to put his armor back on, working his way up from his boots to his helmet.

She watched him as he worked to put the armor in place and then picked up his sword. It was a long straight blade with a red star at the base and a black handle. She couldn't see the blade itself as it was hidden inside a leather case that he fastened to his belt. He left his helmet off, putting it in his backpack instead. His pack went over his back, and he pulled the straps tight.

“I am sorry, but we have to be going,” he said.

She stood there, her eyes still cast down, her toe pushing a small stone across the ground.

“You are very brave,” she said, not looking up.

“Why do you say that?” he asked as he turned to face her.

“Coming after a dragon alone,” she said in a quiet tone.

He made a snorting noise and shook his head. “I did not come alone,” he said, his voice full of pain as he walked off.

 

Azurastra followed as he picked his way through the forest. For hours he kept his back to her saying nothing, as if angry again. She wondered if somehow she had caused it, made him angry with what she said. His mood became dark and distant when she called him brave for coming alone. She even felt something of it over the bind, a sort of coldness that faded away as if fleeing her.

She spent the first few hours wondering if he would ever speak to her again. To break the tension and fear, she began to look around, taking notice of where she was and was swept away.

The forest was a realm of wonder and magic. All her life, she flew above them, seeing them as oceans of green leaves that raced by. Not once in all her years had she walked beneath those green waves to discover the world beneath.

Everything felt new as if she had never been out of her cave. There were scents carried on gentle breezes that filled her with wonder. Some were earthy and strong, others delicate and sweet. Scents came and went in tiny waves that teased her senses.

There was a whole myriad of noises as well. Creaks, snaps, bird songs, and the calls of distant animals echoed from places deep beyond the trees, hidden from sight as if secretly watching them pass. Even the trees sang groaning songs as their branches swayed in the breeze above. She never paid much attention to trees, none of them grew in the valley, and the one time she tried to walk through them while hunting, she found them a hassle. Her dragon form was too large for the forest, but this human form could slip through easily, passing through a world of green and shadow.

She paused when things caught her attention, like when the branches swayed, and golden rays of light spilled down around her like rain. She stopped to stick a hand in one of the rays, marveling at the kiss of the sun and why it felt warmer in this form.

It must be a rodent thing, she decided. Something her superior dragon form had no need of, or simply could not feel. She tried to cling to that thought, but her curiosity wouldn't allow it. All around her was a world full of things to explore, and she wanted to see all of it.

The forest itself was continually changing, at one point, the passing was easy, the trees towering above and the ground clear of brush. In others, the ground was covered in thick growths of green plants that caught on her garments or tangled her feet. She dared to let her fingertips touch some of them, testing the feel of the leaves. She touched the trees as well, running her hand over the rough bark, amazed at how sensitive her rodent touch was. When a branch hung low and dangled its leaves before her, she reached up and rubbed one between her fingers.

Even the floor of the forest was a new sensation. Her dragon feet could crush rocks, but her rodent feet felt the damp warmth underneath. Her steps often crunched or snapped as twigs broke under her weight. Occasionally she stepped on something that hurt, but she quickly stepped away and continued.

She tried to let the magic of all these new experiences sweep her away and occupy her mind. For a brief moment, it worked, but then a little creature flew right before her face. It had yellow and golden wings that fluttered in the most unusual way, darting up and down as it danced before her eyes. She tried to hold on to the magic, but the little creature reminded her of her desire to fly home. As the sadness returned, she wrapped herself in the cloak Gersius gave her, seeking its comfort.

“How could this have happened to me?” she said to herself in her moment of pity.

Gersius didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care. He kept on walking, leading the way through the maze of wood and leaf. She let the sad thought of flying home echo in her head over and over. She trembled when she thought about being bound and looked up at her captor with regret.

She played the moment again in her head, how the great red had come, and demanded to know her true name and serve his master. When she refused, he did something she could not believe. He viciously attacked her. He left her broken and bleeding, dying for refusing to be bound. Then along comes a man who offers to heal her if she would be bound to him instead. Be bound or die, die, or be bound. She'd chosen death, begged him to kill her, but then he made an offer she did not expect. He promised to limit her binding to a year and a day, a meaningless period of time to a dragon. To her, such a period was like a season, a moment that comes and quickly fades away.

With much trembling, she agreed. Remembering how afraid she was at that moment made her stomach turn. Before that day, she had never known fear. She was a dragon, defiant and majestic, a creature of legendary power who inspired fear in others, not felt herself.

What was she now? She looked at her human hands. This form was so weak, so frail. She flopped around like a pet behind him, draped in clothes that hung off her like her useless wings. She was a captive, a slave, doomed to serve the rodent who snared her.

She lifted her head when a bird called someplace in the trees above. The forest floor was dark, but up past the swaying branches, she could see them. White clouds drifting by the world below, uncaring and free, like she used to be. She lowered her head, unable to stand the sight as she struggled to hold in tears.

It was from this point of view that something caught her eye. The path before them entered a relatively flat area. The trees opened up, allowing the sunlight to bathe a little field full of blue plants. Gersius walked into the strange blue shapes that reached to his knees; the tender green stems easily brushed aside as he passed. They swayed in the wind, rippling like water in a pond. She was fascinated by the color she was so accustomed to seeing in the sky. It was like a second magical sky, hidden below the green clouds of the forest.

She followed into the waves of color and had to stop. She’d never seen such things before and desperately wanted to touch one. Carefully she knelt and ran a fingertip over a blue petal feeling a softness like never before.

“What are you doing?” came a questioning voice.

Azurastra jump up, startled by the first words spoken in hours.

“They, they were. I wanted to touch one,” she blurted out uncertain if she'd done something wrong.

“Do you not know what those are?” he questioned, walking towards her.

“It is a plant,” she said defiantly.

“It is called a flower,” he said, smiling for a change. “You really have no idea what these are?” he added, sweeping his arms to take in the blue all around them.

“A flower?” she said, looking back at them.

“Go ahead, touch one,” he said. “There is no danger in it. They will not harm you.”

She looked unsure but knelt to look closely at the blue things growing around her. She reached out a hand again and gently ran a fingertip over one.

“This is,” she paused to think of the words. “Different.”

“Different?” Gersius said, coming to stand beside her.

“I can’t feel things like this as a dragon. I can’t feel things.”

“You mean cannot feel soft things,” he replied.

“This rodent form can feel things I could never feel as a dragon.”

“There is more,” he said, kneeling beside her. “Smell it.”

“Smell it?” she said questioningly.

“Trust me, just smell it,” he said encouragingly.

She looked away from him and back to the flower. It swayed gently in a breeze, and a single drop of dew glistened on a petal. Slowly she bent over and closed her eyes. She took a deep inhale and filled her nose with a scent, unlike anything she had ever known. It washed over her and defied her ability to describe it. She leaned back and opened her eyes, looking back to Gersius.

“It smells. I can smell it. It smells,” she stumbled, trying to think of the words.

“It smells beautiful,” he said, filling in the blank for her.

“Beautiful?” she repeated.

For the first time she saw something in his face she hadn't seen before. She had no word for it either, but it felt warm and made her feel at ease.

“Here,” he said, reaching out into the blue canopy. He gently grabbed hold of a stem and plucked a blue flower, handing it to her so she could hold it. Gently she cupped it in her hands and smelled it again.

“Flower,” she said.

Gersius smiled as she said the word. “Not just any flower,” he added, looking into her eyes. “There are many kinds of flowers, each one has its own name, much like you, and I have our own names. I am a human, but my name is Gersius. You are a dragon, but your name is Azurastra. This is a flower, but its name is...” Gersius paused as if unsure how to continue.

“Tell me, what is its name?” she implored him holding the flower up between them.

“Dragons tears,” he replied.

She looked down at the pretty little blue flower she cupped in her hands. “Dragons tears,” she said as she considered the name. She felt a sort of pain inside, distant and sad, almost as if it was something long forgotten.

“Here now, let me show you something else,” he said, reaching into the plants. Carefully he plucked one and then another until he a dozen or more. He began to twist the stems together, weaving them until he had a band of blue flowers all in a row.

“My sister showed me how to do this,” he said as he worked. “We had many kinds of flowers in the gardens where I grew up.” He worked at them a moment more until the band was three flowers wide.

“Now,” he said as he reached up with both hands and placed the band on her head, tucking it behind her ears. “A crown of blue flowers for the queen of ice.”

She twisted around, trying to see the band of flowers on her head, then reached a hand up and felt for it gently. Her fingers glided over the soft petals, causing a golden shower of pollen that carried the sweet scent to her nose. She felt something else. It was inside again, a pressure, a twisting. It was another mystery she didn't have a word for. It pulled at her as if from far away, like a memory straining to be remembered.

“They smell...” she hesitated again. “Beautiful?”

“They do,” he said.

“Your sister taught you how to make the flower crowns?”

“She did,” he replied, seeming to draw away.

“Where is your sister now?”

A dark look of pain passed over his face, and his eyes glistened.

“Come, we must keep going,” he said, standing up and turning away.

A cold emptiness replaced the twisting. It surged up and then seemed to draw away as if fleeing from her. She looked at Gersius as he walked off the coldness retreating with him.

She stood to follow, but in her heart, she wanted to stay with the flowers. She held the one in her hand to her face again and smelled it. “Dragons tears,” she whispered as if talking to the flower.

They walked on for several hours, the sun climbing high in the sky before he stopped again. He took a strange bottle from his pack and opened it. He tipped it back, and water poured into his mouth. She eyed the bottle hungrily, not having realized how thirsty she was.

He glanced at her as he drank and put his arm down.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked her.

She nodded her head.

“Here,” he said, holding the bottle out to her.

She carefully took it from his hands and clutched it to her chest. She sniffed at the opening and smelled the water inside. She had never seen such a thing before, but she saw how he used it. Tilting it back, she poured the water into her mouth and over her face, choking as she drowned herself.

“Careful,” Gersius cautioned as he took the bottle from her hands.

She staggered back coughing and wheezing.

He gave her a moment to cough it back up and get control of herself.

She shot him an angry look as if her current state was his fault.

“You have to tip the bottle slowly so that the water trickles out just enough to fill your mouth.”

Her glare told him she didn't believe him.

“Here, watch me,” he said, taking another drink. She watched him intently as he pressed the bottle to his lips and lifted it back with a slight tilt of his head. He pulled the bottle away and smiled while holding it out to her. “Take it,” he said when she hesitated.

Slowly she took it and eyed it like she was holding a snake.

“Now place it to your lips like I did and tip it slowly until you feel the water just start to flow,” he suggested.

She did as he instructed slowly raising the bottle until she felt the water flow over her lips, she dropped her hands quickly getting little more than a few drops into her mouth.

“Good, now try again, but this time wait until you have enough in your mouth to swallow.”

She wanted to throw the bottle at him, but her thirst implored her to drink. Carefully she tipped it back, taking several tried before she finally got a good mouth full. She still poured a little down her chin, but manage to swallow without drowning.

“See, it is not so hard,” he said, taking the bottle back and put it in his pack. “Another hour or so and we should find the old log road. If we follow it north, we will reach a small collection of farms.” He looked out through the trees as if trying to see them. “I should have come in this way. It would have made travel far easier, but it would have added nearly a week to my trip, and my passage would not have gone unnoticed.”

He turned around to look at her again and looked down. “How are your feet?” he asked.

She paused to consider the question. What was wrong with her feet? She looked down at them and lifted one to look at it. “They are right there,” she responded, unsure of what he wanted.

“I meant do they hurt, are they sore?”

She shook her head no; her feet were not sore. She had occasionally stepped on a stone or twig, but her feet felt fine to her.

Gersius looked at her suddenly with his brows creasing deeply and his mouth coming open slightly. “Your eyes, what has happened to your eyes?” he said, startled and leaned in closer to her.

Her hands went to her face and felt for her eyes as if they were missing.

“They are here; I still have them,” she said, frightened.

“No, I mean the light, the blue glow is gone,” he said, looking into one eye and then the other.

She jerked away from his fingers as he tried to touch her face.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know there was a light,” she said.

“It was there when you transformed, a blue light that burned in your eyes.”

“I told you I don't know,” she said, more irritated.

Gersius took a moment to consider it. Had it been gone all morning? Was it there when they woke up? Was it there when he held her over the stream? He felt a shudder to remember his behavior this morning and moved on.

“It must fade over time,” he said, leaning back. “The light must be something of your dragon nature, that fades the longer you are human. How do you not know these things?” he asked her genuinely puzzled.

“I don't choose to walk around in this weak, rodent form,” she spat, becoming angry. “I have only taken this form a few times and never for longer than a moment. I used it once to reach a coin that had fallen into a tight space. I used it another time to pick my silver coins out of my gold ones. You rodents make the coins so small they are hard to sort with my dragon hands.”

“So you can change back then?” he asked her.

“Of course, I can change back! I can change anytime I want to,” she said, her frustration rising in her voice.

“Good,” he replied with a nod of his head.

“Did you think I couldn't change back?” she asked him in a sarcastic tone.

“I did not know you could change at all,” he answered her, mirroring her tone. “I did not want to make any more assumptions.”

She felt a sudden surge of anger at his lack of understanding. She hated having to explain anything to him, and she hated being in her human form.

“If I was stuck in this weak, pathetic form, I would have thrown myself from a cliff by now,” she yelled, feeling her anger and emotions start to boil. She tore at the clothes she was wearing and stomped a foot. “I hate being like this! I must look stupid to you! I am joke now, a fool to be made fun of!”

“Azurastra, please calm down,” he said, trying to soothe her. The use of her name only made it worse.

“Stop using my name and reminding me I am bound to you!” she wailed as her emotions ran wild again. She turned away and started stomping back and forth as her anger boiled out.

He let her pace about a bit with her hands clenched tightly until she stopped and looked down.

“Are you done?” he asked her as she seethed with rage.

She paused and considered his words. She folded her arms over her chest and looked away, saying nothing.

He let her pout a moment more and then spoke to her.

“I call you that because I do not know what else to call you, not because I want to torment you,” he said soothingly. “What should I call you then? What name do you go by?”

She sat there silently for a few moments before responding.

“I don’t know what you should call me.” She paused and took a breath. “I have never spoken to one of your kind before. I have seen your kind but never spoken. I did not have a use for names.”

“You mean you do not have a regular name?” he said, genuinely shocked.

“I never needed one!” she shouted back.

“But what about other dragons, surely you have spoken to them.”

“We dragons are not social like you rodents are. We don't live in big nests with dozens of you scurrying about.” She sighed and looked around. “We hardly ever meet and only for specific purposes. In the last hundred of your years, I have seen my kind only twice, and one of those two visits was the red.”

“So, you have no order or society? How do you reproduce if you never meet?”

“We don't need a society! We are solitary and have been since the begining. When we want to,” she paused, looking for the right words. “When we want to mate, a female will seek out a male.”

“Have you ever sought out a male?” he asked her.

“That is none of your concern!” she shouted.

“So how did you learn to speak?” he asked her with a look of skepticism on his face.

“My mother taught me,” she said, looking away.

“Your mother?”

“Yes, my mother!” She turned now to face him standing so she could look him in the eyes. “A dragon brood is always raised by its mother. She is the one who takes care of them and teaches them.”

“And what of the males? What of your father?”

“Bah, males. They have no more involvement than breeding. Once they have bred a female, they hardly care if she exists anymore. They only seem to mind if she nests too close to one of them and competes for food. Then they drive her away.”

“So you do not know who your father is?” he asked.

“No! I do not,” she said, looking down and folding her arms over her chest again. “I don't care who he is.”

“So you do not know anything about people. You do not know who your father is, and you do not have a name?” he said, summarizing the past few moments.

“I told you I—” she tried to say, but he finished her sentence.

“Never needed one, yes, I know.” He shook his head in frustration. “Well, you need one now. So what shall we call you?”

“I don’t; I don’t know,” she said, looking around awkwardly.

It was as she turned her head he noticed the crown of blue flowers.

“How about we name you after one of those,” he suggested, pointing to her head.

“You want to call me dragons tears?” she said, sounding insulted.

“No, not that flower, another flower. You thought the flowers were beautiful, did you not?”

“I thought they smelled beautiful?” she said, irritated.

“A thing can smell beautiful. It can look beautiful. It can sound beautiful,” he said, walking to her as his voice became gentle. “I know a flower that grows in the hills of Tarashan. It has long delicate petals that start out the deepest blues but fade to the color of the sky at its middle, and white at the tips.”

The softness of his words washed over her as he described the colors of the flower. It reminded her of her dragon scales as he evoked a sense of great beauty with his description. He was being very strange all of a sudden, his harsh voice was tender, lacking any threat or demand. Across the bind, she felt a pressure, something pushing, something of him. She tried to grasp at the sensation, but it was no clearer than before and eluded her ability to understand. His face looked soft as well as if he was glad to see her. She was so awash in the moment she almost forgot to respond when he stopped speaking.

“And this flower is beautiful?” she asked.

“It is very beautiful,” he said, walking right up to her and taking both her hands in his.

She flinched at the touch and glanced at his hands, frowning. Why was the rodent touching her?

“What is this flower called?” she asked, tugging her hands away. She felt no malice in the touch but saw no reason for it.

“It is called a Lilly,” he replied, stepping back with a shake of his head.

“A Lilly?” she asked, rubbing her hands as if to wash off his touch.

“Do you like the name?” he asked her. “Can I call you Lilly?”

“Lilly,” she said to herself as she pondered the word. “I accept it.”

“Then it is settled,” he said, smiling at her. “My lady Lilly, shall we continue?” He added a slight bow and a sweep of his hand.

Her mind suddenly felt heavy. Her thoughts were labored, and her emotions were spinning around her. Inside anger mixed with confusion as the twisting in her stomach returned. Even her hands felt strange now. They tingled where he'd touched them as if something of him had rubbed off. She didn't know how to answer him beyond a simple nod.

“Good,” he said, turning to push on into the forest.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he led the way. She might be a dragon, but in her current form, she was little more than a human child. A child so ignorant of the world and its people it surprised him. She had the biting tone of an adult, but her ignorance of humans and their ways was going to be a problem. He would have to watch her when they started to meet other people. He would have to be a father to her, guiding her by the hand through the world. He cursed his luck and pressed on determined to complete his goal.

Another hour passed as the forest thinned, and they found the logging road.

“This is the road we want. From here, we go north,” Gerisus said, pointing down the muddy track that was nearly overgrown with weeds. “With any luck, we will reach some of the farms before nightfall.”

“There will be more rodents there?” she asked timidly.

“Yes, there will be more people there,” he said. “Just stay with me, and remember your name is Lilly.”

“My name is Lilly,” she repeated.

The road was much easier going, and they traveled faster than in the forest. He asked several times about her feet as if expecting them to fall off. Every time she told him they were fine, though, in truth, they were starting to feel tired. It was well after noon when they crested a small hill and looked down into a dark, densely forested valley. A frown crawled across his face as he studied the distant trees. Something pushed at her across the bind, something sharp and unpleasant.

“Lilly,” he said. “I want you to stay close to me. Do not wander more than five feet away,” he said in a deadly serious tone.

“Why?” she asked with her usual lack of understanding.

He shook his head again and cursed his luck. “Please, I have a sense for such things. Just promise me you will stay close to me.”

“You could command me to do it,” she replied angrily.

“I could, or I could treat you with respect and dignity and ask you instead.”

She went to argue but understood the meaning of his words. He was giving her the freedom to choose when he didn't have to. All her bitter words would do is make him angry again, and he was scary when he was angry.

“I, I will stay close,” she said with a defeated look on her face. “I promise.”

He took off his pack and dug his helmet out, firmly placing it on his head. “Can you carry this?” he said, holding the pack out to her.

“I can,” she said with no argument and took it from his hands. It was heavier than expected, but she managed to hold it up.

He nodded his head in approval, his eyes full of worry.

“Just until we clear the trees,” he said as he started to move forward again. This feeling worried him because he'd felt it before and failed to act on it. Several times on his trip to find Lilly, this sensation crawled through his mind, especially the night his men were attacked. He wouldn't ignore it this time, though he hoped it would pass. He prayed it was only his nerves, or perhaps his guilt playing tricks on him

The forest was unnaturally quiet as if every animal had hidden or fled. This only added to his anxiety as it was a sure sign a predator was about. He crawled forward with Lilly close behind his eyes, searching the treeline and every dark shadow. Something was here, watching from just beyond his sight. The sense of dread in the back of mind became intense as a faint smell caught his nose. He turned on Lilly, chanting in a strong, commanding voice, praying there was enough time.

“What are you doing?” Lilly asked, suddenly frightened.

Gersius kept chanting, his eyes closed as he called in song to the power of the divine. Around them, she heard sudden noises, yipping sounds, and the breaking of branches. A savage growl echoed form someplace to her right, causing her to turn about.

“What are those noises?” she demanded.

He threw his hands out to either side of her and spoke the final word of command. A red light formed in a circle around her, touching the inside of his hands. He pulled his hands away, and the ring fell, forming a circle about her feet that pulsed with magical power. He opened his eyes and looked directly at her. “Do not leave the circle,” he commanded.

She felt the compulsion to do as he had said, the binding forcing her to stand right where she was. She wanted to argue, but his eyes were angry again, and their gaze only added to her fear.

A howl split the air as a dark form flew from the trees behind him. He turned, and a sword flashed, filling the air with a different howl, this one of pain as the form fell into the trees on the other side.

Gersius put his back to her, his sword in right hand standing defiantly between her and the enemy. He was like a statue of metal plates, unmoving moving except for a trickle of blood running down the blade of his sword.

Another howl filled the air, and a dark form bolted from the nearby forest. It was as large as a man with dark black fur over its entire body. Its head looked wolfish except for a pair of large tusks that jutted out from either side of its jaws, forming a pincer. Its body was hunched over, the fur over it's back was patchy and filthy. Its spine arched so that you could see its path through its horrid skin. Its hands were three short fingers ending in a terrible black claw. It walked on all of hits limbs like a dragon did. Its front legs were lean and long while its hind legs curled up behind it like it wanted to leap. A second creature like the first broke cover and rushed at him from his right.

Lilly shrieked, dropping his pack and cloak at its sudden appearance, but Gersius never seemed to flinch. In a swift motion, he turned, meeting the new beast head-on, his sword slashing across its body. Another horrible howl split the air as it fell to the dirt flailing. Another one charged at his back and was met with a plated fist. It stumbled past him, and he quickly followed it with a thrusting blade.

Around her, the forest came alive with black forms, howling, snarling, and rushing in. Lilly wanted to run, no she wanted to fly away, to take to the air and leave this nightmare behind. She implored her legs to move, but the command had been given, she couldn't leave the circle.

“Gersius!” she screamed as dark shapes raced in all around her. He was a whirlwind of flashing steel and death. Creatures leaped at him from every side, but he always turned to face them sword leading the way. Already there were more than a dozen dead around him, as he tore through them.

Then her view was blocked as one of the creatures stood between them. It reared up on its legs and glared down at her with violent yellow eyes. She felt panic rising in her heart, and it suddenly lashed out at her. She heard a crackling sound, and the monster jumped back. Smoke wafted off its burned fur as it howled in fury. Another one lashed at her from behind with the same results, the magic circle preventing them from reaching her.

She shrunk to the center of the circle in fear as more surrounded her. Time and time again, they lashed out at her, terrifying her but always the circle held, throwing them back in pain and smoking fur. Someplace beyond the wall of terror, she could hear savage roars as Gersius fought on. Somehow he was protecting her, but for how long, and why did he leave her trapped?

She called out for him, but her voice was lost in the howls and shrieks. All around, monstrous faces glared and threatened her with death. Her fear and rage welled up, and she screamed back at them, causing them to lash out, burning once again.

Gersius struggled to keep his footing. There were too many, far too many. Slowly he was being pushed away from Lilly, the gap growing by the second. He glanced at her and saw a wall of bandersooks between them. He heard the ward snapping angrily as Lilly screa
med his name. It would keep them at bay until the time ran out, or he died. A clawed hand crashed into his chest, stumbling him back, the third blow since the fight had started. He was losing ground, taking blows that thankfully his armor was absorbing, but sooner or later, they would overwhelm him.

He had to stay on his feet and keep moving. They were animals, not smart enough to work together. Any coordination on their part was pure luck, but given the numbers, luck was on their side. There were so many of them now that he couldn't keep turning to meet them all. Another sword thrust another kill, but a clawed hand landed on his thigh, glancing off the metal plate and tearing a leather strap.

It was only a matter of time now, and he worked feverishly to figure out a plan. How had so many of these creatures traveled this far east? These were beasts of the western crags. Monstrous hunters who skulked in the dark places along the borderlands. How had they found him again? He struggled to keep his mind clear. There was only one way he could hope to fight this many. He would have to call on divine power, but he was still weak from healing Azurastra. He would last only a few minutes and then be as drained as he was when she skinned her knee.

He reached out for his faith, the power rushing in. He spun his sword in a full circle creating a ring of glowing orange light that raced outward, throwing the creatures immediately around him away, but more poured in.

He turned to kick one rushing in from the side while his sword cut down the one in front. His armor absorbed another impact this time on his back that drove him forward and nearly off his feet. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the white mist spreading out around Lilly.

He turned and cut, his blade dancing as he’d been trained. Another beast fell twitching to the ground, but his timing had been misjudged. A creature lunged, catching his arm with its jaws, locking the pincers in place. The metal of his armor protected him, be he lost the freedom of mobility. The monster tugged and thrashed, pulling him as he tried to turn and cut it down. A second beast leaped on his back, knocking him to the ground and the sword from his hand.

He shouted a divine command, and an orange light burst forth in his hand. The light rapidly stretched, forming into the shape of a holy weapon, a hammer of faith. He twisted, swatting the beast from his back with a loud crack. With another word of power, he called for divine strength, his muscles surging with holy might. He wrenched his arm free, tearing the pincers from the jaws of his captor. He quickly finished the beast with the hammer before turning to meet more. Another rushed in and took a punch backed by holy might, caving its jaws in and throwing it to the ground. He stepped forward to finish it off but was staggered by a blow to the head that tore his helmet free.

Dazed and confused, he struggled to hold his feet. The blow so rattled his head that his vision blurred for a second, and the world seemed to slow. The creatures closed in from all sides, slowly advancing like a tide of darkness. He set his feet as the monsters rushed about him, howling for blood. Gersius knew this was it, he was outnumbered fifty to one, and everywhere he looked, he saw more. Then to his utter amazement, they even started to rain out of the sky.

A roar filled his ears as the ground shook. The wall of darkness before him flew into the air as a tree trunk plowed through them. Gersius looked up from his daze to see a raging blue dragon towering over the monsters.

“Insects!” she yelled while smashing more with an uprooted tree. “I refuse to be frightened by you, insects!” She swung wildly and struck a larger tree shattering the one she was using as a weapon in a hail of fragments. She threw the remaining piece at the scurrying forms as they raced about her. One of the beasts leaped on her back and tore at her wings. She wailed in pain, a maddened look coming into her eyes. Her head whipped around on a long neck, massive jaws closing over the beast. With a snap of her neck, she threw it thirty feet into the forest. She was too large for the circle now, and the monsters flooded in on her. As they packed up in a tight mass, she took a deep breath, her blue eyes glowing brightly.

Gersius had to cover his face as the forest before him suddenly froze in a torrent of ice and snow. Trees snapped as they were flash-frozen, and Bandersnooks caught directly in the path fell over solid as stone. Screams and wails filled the air as black forms ran in all directions. Their howls filled the forest as they fled, growing ever distant as their terror drove them away.

He lowered his arm just enough to look at her. She was taller than the trees, her blue scales glistening in the sun. Around her, the forest was a scene of death and destruction. A dozen bandersooks lay mangled at her feet. Two dozen more were twisted and broken where she had thrown them, and twice that many were locked in an icy grave. Everything was encased in white ice like the worst winter he had ever known. She heaved with her breathing, her eyes glowing a fierce bluish white. Her hands dripped with blood, twitching in rage as she looked for more prey to kill.

“You fool rodent!” she roared when she saw Gersius standing there. “Release me from your stupid command.”

Gersius lowered his arm all the way and nodded his head. It was only then that he noticed she was standing one foot atop the other still in the center of the circle. Regardless of her size, she was still bound to the command.

“Lilly, I release you from my command. You can leave the circle,” he said.

She shifted her feet, planting them firmly before lowering herself to stand on all fours. The movement shifted her broken wings, the pain evident on her face.

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” she roared.

“Because I did not think you could help,” he said softly. He was awestruck by the use of her breath and the devastation it wrought. Even more, she now towered over him, her eyes blazing with anger as they glared down on him. He felt small and insignificant, like a mouse standing before a hungry lion.

“Did you forget I was a dragon?” she demanded. “Or am I the stupid girl to you?”

“I am sorry, I did not think,” he stammered, struggling to get control of himself.

“No, you did not!” she said, her long neck lowering until they were no more than a meter apart. Her blue eyes narrowed, causing the fire that burned in them to dance as she stared down the helpless mouse. “What would have happened if you had died?”

He felt the cold of her breath biting at his face like a gale-force wind in the deep of winter. Her jaws dripped with the blood of her kills, and the appearance filled him with fear. He had to struggle to make his mouth move to answer her question.

“You would have been free. My death would have released you from your bind.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, looking through him. She pulled her head away and settled herself. “Are we safe?”

He struggled to get his senses back in order and looked around. All the Bandersooks he could see were dead, and the howls in the forest were becoming distant and scattered.

“For now,” he said, nodding his head as if agreeing with his own assessment.

Azurastra looked over her shoulders at her back and futilely tried to lift one of her wings. She attempted to walk, dragging a broken wing along the ground, the pain evident on her face. A tear ran down the side of her cheek as a white mist began to gather around her. It billowed out, becoming a swirling cloud that completely hid her form. He had to cover his eyes again as a flash of light stung them. He blinked a few times as the mist began to thin, and out of it stepped Lilly covering her naked form as much as she could with her hands.

“I tore my clothes,” she said with tears in her eyes.

Gersius noticed the blue light danced in her eyes again. It was indeed something of her dragon nature that lingered in this form. Noting her shame, he looked around and found the shredded garments in the circle.

“These will do you no good,” he said, tossing them aside. He looked up at Lilly, who was struggling to hold in tears and trying desperately to cover her body with her arms and hands. He found his pack tossed to the side and his cloak beside it.

“We still have this,” he said, wrapping the cloak around her.

“I want my clothes back,” she said, sniffling.

“I will get you new clothes. Those did not fit you anyway.”

“I don't like being naked and weak like this,” she said, pulling the cloak tightly about her. “I want my scales. I want my strength.”

“I understand you hate this form, but you can not travel as a dragon,” he said. “I promise I will get you something soon.”

She closed her eyes and looked away, but nodded her understanding.

“Lilly, thank you for saving me,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly while never looking at him.

Gersius quickly gathered his gear and shouldered the pack. He returned to Lilly, who was standing as still as a stone, clutching the cloak for modesties sake. She stared at the shattered remains of the monsters around her as if trying to work something out.

“What were these things?” she asked.

“We call them bandersooks where I am from. Further north, they call them howlers,” he said.

“I didn't know such horrible things existed.”

“I regret to say that worse things than this stalk the world,” he told her. “Come, we need to get as far from here as we can before nightfall.”

She nodded and followed him away, heading further away from home and into the unknown.

 

He stood tall and straight, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out the window. From his office in the temple of Astikar, he could see into the courtyard below. Brothers of the faith ran about on their various chores and tasks. All of them were busy these days as the war dragged on, and the reports grew dire. There were calls for reinforcements from every fort in the hills, assuring him they didn’t have the men to hold on for long.

There were no more men to send except those still in training. Already the temples across the old empire were pressed into supplying men. In some cases, temples had only three priests out of twenty left to maintain order.

Some of the bishops were beginning to complain about Gersius and the men with him. There were suggestions that he should be recalled and his men sent to the front where they could do some real good. There was also a rumor that they would challenge his decision to let Gersius go as if they had any ground to stand on. Gersius turned the order on its head by challenging them directly and demanding his right to go. Not one of them could deny Gersius, least of all him.

Now the war had become one of stagnation and defense. The various commanders were hesitant to take the offense without Gersius present on the front. Instead, they filled reports asking for men and materials in an effort to make up for lack of experience with numbers. He read the reports and the sealed letter that arrived by special messenger. Everything was on hold until Gersius crawled out of whatever dark hole he managed to get lost in.

His gaze went out beyond the walls of the monastery to the city of Kingsbridge. It was a far cry from the splendor of Calathen, but it had significant holdings for the order of Astikar. He moved his office and staff to this city after Gersius left. He wanted to be closer in the event that things did not go according to plan.

He hoped to find some word of Gersius’s passing, but the people of the city had nothing to say. Gersius hadn’t come through Kingsbridge, nor was he seen on any of the roads to the north. That could only mean Gersius was trying to remain hidden and traveling an unconventional route. Why was he going to great lengths to hide his passing? What was the man planning?


Another mystery was that Gersius had met with key friends an allies before leaving. None of them would reveal what those meetings entailed, and would only suggest that it was advice on how to keep the Doan at bay. He suspected otherwise but could not take stronger action to get the truth. Gersius was a hero of the order and had the support of many of his subordinates. Such action would raise too many eyebrows, and uncomfortable questions would be asked. What had this hero told them before running after his dragon? What plans were laid within plans by the order's greatest strategist?

A knock on the door brought him back to the office around him.

“Do come in,” he called with a smooth voice turning to face the doorway of his study.

“Father Abbot,” came the dull voice of a man with short black hair. He entered the room, briefly falling to one knee in supplication. He was a giant of a man, garbed in nearly black armor, with red trims. On his breastplate was the red star of Astikar, and on his shoulder a red ravens head.

“Has there been news of the expedition?” he asked, hopeful that something had finally been discovered.

“There is news,” the man said, getting up and walking calmly across the red rug covered floor. “There was a slaughter deep in the Greenwall south of Connersdell,” he said, coming to a red cushioned chair of polished wood that sat before an ornate desk. He casually took a seat struggling slightly to bend in his armor. He then looked up at the Father Abbot, an overconfident smile on his face.

“A hundred bandersooks dead, the forest was littered with bodies,” he said, taking a sudden interest in his fingernails.

“And the brothers, have they been located?” the father asked, growing impatient.

“All dead,” the man said, picking at a finger with his other hand.

“Astikar be merciful,” The Father Abbot said, going pale. “Poor Gersius, he was so sure.”

“Gersius wasn't among them,” the man added in his dull voice.

“You just told me all the brothers were dead!” the Father Abbot growled his voice growing agitated. His aged but strong face was narrow, his brows were high on his head, and his eyes were focused and piercing. He wore the layers of red and white robes that befit his station with the red star of Astikar emblazoned on every surface.

“All the brothers are dead. The fool Gersius is not a brother as far as I am concerned.”

“Your concerns are not part of this conversation. I asked you to find Gersius and the host he leads,” the Father Abbot said, slamming a fist on the desk. “Our situation in the war in tenuous. We cannot allow a variable like Gersius to go uncounted for.” He accentuated his point by pointing a long finger right at the armored man.

“You were the one who allowed him to go. There were those who objected to his fool's errand.”

“You watch your tongue brother Dellain,” the Father Abbot said, leaning over the desk. “I allow you freedom of mannerisms because I value your ability to get the job done. But do not think I will tolerate you throwing daggers at me. Gersius evoked his right as a knight captain to demand men; none of us could deny him.” He took a moment to study Dellain's face and straightened up, standing tall with his head thrown back and looking down his nose at the man. “Gersius is one of the greatest of the battle priests, and his victories are legend. If he still lives, then there is still hope.”

“As you say.”

“I do say,” the man yelled, cutting him off. He turned and walked back to the window, watching the clergy below run about again.

“This really has you upset, then?” Dellain asked.

The Father Abbot folded his hands behind his back and turned to glare at Dellain.

“There is the prophecy to contend with. You know what it says.”

Dellain shook his head. “How is Gersius twice blessed? Where is the so-called daughter of the harvest who cries black tears? Where is the daughter of the silver moon? When was he ever rescued by the vengeful blue lover? And where in all the land is the queen of the red star?”

The Father Abbot continued to look out the window. “There are many signs of the prophecy. Just because we cannot attribute them to him yet does not mean he will not achieve them.”

“The queen of the red star can only mean a priestess of Astikar. There are no priestesses of Astikar.”

“That we know of,” the tall man at the window said.

“What about ‘he will stand against the father and hurl accusations?’ Dellain said. “That can only mean he will come to face you?”

“If that is the proper interpretation, then yes, he will.”

“He won’t set foot in Calathen again. He has failed his mission and will run like a coward.”

The man at the window turned. His eyes glaring at Dellain with disgust. “A coward? Gersius? This is the man who defeated the ettins and battled through the gates of Holdiheim to capture the city. Did he run from the armies of Duke Granor? Did he run from his posting on the front? No brother Dellain, Gersius, is still alive and on his mission. If he failed to find a dragon, then I can assure you he is looking for another.”

“Maybe the dragon killed him. The fool probably went on alone and was eaten,” Dellain suggested.

The Father Abbot nodded. “I have reason to believe he is still alive. And as such is probably scouring the towns looking for information on a second dragon.”

“Why wouldn’t he capture the first one?” Dellain asked.

“Because he can’t!” the Father Abbot shouted. He looked at Dellain with a tense gaze and shook his head. “Find Millin, Storick, and Jessivel. I will give you a message for each of them. Tell them to search the eastern towns along the ice fangs, and find Gersius,” he said in an even voice.

“I can find him with a little more time,” Dellain volunteered.

“No brother Dellain, I have a new task for you,” the Father Abbot said. Yes, a new plan of action was called for here, the loss of so many brothers, even young recruits, was a devastating blow, but one he had planned for. Gersius not being lost with them, well, a change of plans was needed.

---

Gersius and Lilly hurried down the muddy road, eager to be away. They spent a tense night camped in the woods, but thankfully the bandersooks had not reappeared. Lilly insisted on being in her dragon form through the night feeling vulnerable in her human form. They set out early the next day and pushed hard to gain ground. Gersius frequently stopped to search the surroundings and listen to the woods. Only when he was satisfied there was no danger did he press on.

Lilly was a little more talkative though she mostly spoke about wanting to fly. He felt pity for her and the condition of her wings. He could tell they meant everything to her and was terribly hurt over their loss. There was a slim chance at hope waiting for her in Calathen.
It was an act of desperation he knew, but if it worked, it would solve both their problems. He would have the dragon he needed, and she would have her wings back. There was a great deal of doubt attached to it all, however, not the least of which was she was a dragon.

The thought plagued his mind all day as they walked. The road eventually became broader, and the woods started to give way to large patches of dense green grassland. A few hours more and the sun began to dip low in the sky, painting the clouds in reds and oranges. He knew there were perhaps two hours of light left, and the first farms were easily that far away.

It was near dusk when they finally walked into open fields planted in oats and wheat. Over the hill, he could see the distant smoke of chimney fires.

“Another half an hour and we should reach the closest farm,” he said as they walked down the road.

“Will there be other rodents there?” Lilly asked, looking unsure.

“I am going to the first house we find and see if they have someplace, we can sleep for the night, and maybe something for you to wear.” He ignored her question. It was the fifth time she'd asked it in the last hour. She already knew the answer, and he didn't know how to reassure her. When the first house came into sight, she slowed as if trying to delay the coming encounter.

It was a small farmhouse of no more than two or three rooms. It sat off the road by maybe fifty paces with a low fence of stones that separated the yard from the road. The walls were made mostly of stone and mortar, and rough wood beams that had long since gone gray with age. Its roof was finished off in a yellowing thatch that dipped slightly in the center and was thinning on one side. Smoke drifted lazily from a chimney of stone, and a dim light could be seen through the only tiny window it had. There were three other buildings in the yard of various sizes. He guessed these were probably barns and perhaps a workshop, indicating a busy farm.

“Wait here,” he told her as they approached the walkway of rocks and moss that led to the door. “Let me talk to them first.”

Lilly nodded her consent and waited by the roadside, happy to not get any closer. She watched him go toward the building, his armor rustling as he walked. He reached a wooden rectangle made a loud tapping sound when he struck it with his hand. A moment later, it cracked open, a beam of yellow falling into the yard. A tall, thin man in a dirty white shirt appeared in the entrance. He was bathed in the light from beyond the door, and Lilly was transfixed by the sight. Gersius and the man started talking, but she could not hear what they were saying. She felt uncomfortable waiting in the shadows by the roadside wearing nothing but his cloak. She blinked her eyes to adjust them to the dark, and the scene lit up nearly as bright as day. At least she still had her dragon sight, and could now clearly see the land all around them.

Gersius turned and pointed in her direction, and the man leaned out as if looking to see. They were talking about her, she fumed. The conversation went on for a few more minutes before Gersius finally pulled his pack off and fished around inside it. He handed the man something that he shook before nodding his head. Gersius waved and turned, walking back to where she waited.



“The farm is owned by a couple and their three children,” he said. “They are going to let us into the house for a meal, while the farmer and the oldest boy clean out a room in the barn.”

“There are five rodents in there?” she asked, looking concerned.

“There are four, one of them is away. I told them that I rescued you just this morning from a slaver who used magic to charm you.”

“Why would you tell them that?” she asked, annoyed.

“So, I did not have to explain why you were naked and why your eyes are glowing.”

“My eyes are glowing?” she said as she lifted her hands to her face. She held her hands close to her eyes and saw the blue light reflected faintly on her skin. “I never realized they did that. I don’t even notice it.”

“They have already eaten supper, but he says there is plenty of soup left and will reheat it for us. The eldest daughter is away, and the youngest daughter is in bed. So you should not be surrounded by people if that helps you feel more comfortable.”

Lilly looked down and pursed her lips as she gave him a little nod.

“The farmer's wife is digging through her eldest daughter's old clothes to see if she can find you something to wear,” he added.

“They believe what you say about me?” she asked.

Gersius went to put a hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled, so he settled for just having her attention. “Lilly, under normal circumstances, I would never lie to anybody,” he said, looking at her directly. “But in this case, I must in order to protect you. These people will see your eyes and ask questions I do not want to answer. If we raise the alarm, things could become more difficult for us.”

“I am frightened of this. I don’t know if I can go in there,” she said, gesturing to the house.

Gersius thought of his earlier observations. He was going to have to lead her through this like a father leads a young daughter. She was a grown woman in body and had a tongue as sharp as an angry mother, but her understanding of human interactions was woefully lacking. She was frightened even to be around them.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

She looked at him, puzzled. “No,” she said.

“You do not trust me?” he asked with surprise.

“I am your slave,” she said with disgust. “I have to follow your commands and do what you say. That is hardly a reason to trust you.”

He nodded his head. “I hoped you would start to see I am trying to be kind to you.”’

“You're being kind to me? How is not knowing why you bound me or where you're taking me kind? To me, all your doing is dragging me away from my home.”

“I am sorry. I sometimes struggle to understand,” he started to say.

“Where is Calathen? How far away is it? Why are you taking me there?

“This is not the time or place for this conversation,” he told her, looking her in the eyes.

“Are you taking me there to sell me? Are you going to parade me around like a trophy? Are you going to—” She turned her face away from his with a look of disgust.

“Lilly,” he said, finally grabbing her shoulders to get her attention. “I swore to you I would treat you with honor and respect. I swore to limit your binding to a year and a day. I also swore never to reveal your true name to anyone.” His voice was dark, and his eyes burned with an intensity that made her wish she could step back. “Never would I sell you. Never would I treat you like some trophy or prize. Never would I take anything from you against your will.”

“Except my freedom,” she said

He closed his eyes and nodded his head. This was another of his mistakes. He was rushing her into a world she knew nothing about. He treated her like a child because she was ignorant of human ways, but she wasn't a child, she wasn't even human, and she was paying careful attention. He took his hands away to avoid making her feel forced in any way.

“Lilly,” he said softly. “When I found you not two days ago, you were battered, broken, and in no position to resist me.”

“Yes, and you took advantage of that and forced me into servitude,” she said angrily.

“Did I?” he said, stepping back to give her more room. “Tell me, what did I say?”

“I don't remember,” she said, growing angrier.

“It was just the other day, girl!” he barked, then took a breath and steadied his voice. “Tell me, what did I say?”

Lilly looked dejected and angry. Her eyes darted from side to side as if searching for a way out of the conversation.

“Lilly!” he demanded again.

“You said you would not bind me against my will.”

“You were in no condition to resist me. There were other ways I could have gotten your name out of you. I could have lied to you about the year and the day. I could have lied to you about how I would treat you,” he said, his voice growing stern, but also pained. “I did as I promised and wove the limit into the binding, and I have honestly tried to treat you with the dignity you deserve. I know I have failed once or twice, and I will fail again, but I meant what I told you.”

“How have you treated me with dignity?” she demanded.

He put his hands to his smooth face as if to wipe away his frustration and calmed his voice. “I could have commanded you to do as I said. We could be in there right now regardless of how you feel about it.”

“Yes,” she had to admit. “You could have.” She realized he was truthful, and his logic could not be countered. He had treated her fairly.

She thought of the field of flowers and how he had made the crown of dragons tears. She thought of how he described the lily flower and how its colors were beautiful like hers. He asked for her permission to call her Lilly instead of forcing it on her. When he wanted her to stay close, he asked her to do it. He even tried to protect her in the forest, putting her inside a warding circle. Foolish as the gesture was, he still put her life before his.

“I, I’m sorry.” she stammered out.

“You are what?” he asked in disbelief.

“I said I was sorry! Do not make me say it again!” she spat angrily.

“I am sorry, too,” he said to her. “I have kept too much from you. You have many doubts and worries, and I have done nothing to try and soothe them. I promise I will fix that mistake, now come, let us go inside. I will stand by your side the entire time and guide you through everything.”

His face softened, and his manner was strange again. Inside something tugged at her as she looked down to see him holding out his hand.

“Take my hand. It will help you.”

“I do not need you to touch me,” she said, her face twisted in a scowl.

“Lilly, you recoil from me every time I try to comfort you, but that is all it is. I know you have no idea what to do, so let me help you.”

“But why do you need to touch me?” she asked.

He sighed and considered it himself. He didn’t want to say because he thought of her as a child. She wasn't a child, and he realized he needed to stop treating her as such. Still, he needed some way to convey that he was there for her without words. Some way that wouldn’t allow nearby ears to understand there was something off about her.

“Humans sometimes use touch to convey a deeper meaning. I admit I am too free with it. It is fairly common for people of my land to touch a hand, wrist, or shoulder to convey certain meanings. I am sorry, I forget you are not human and are not accustomed to such things.”

She looked at his face as he spoke and then glanced back to his hand.

“So, this is to help me?”

“On the battlefield, I would stand beside a frightened soldier and put a hand to his back to stand him firm. To reassure him that I was with him, and he had the strength to face the challenge ahead. You are a woman and not a solider. It is more appropriate to convey that meaning by holding your hand.”

She lifted her hand briefly and glanced at it.

“If you are worried or upset, you can squeeze my hand to make me aware of it. I will squeeze you back to let you know there is nothing to be upset about.”

Again his manner was strange, and she felt him across the bind. There was a twisting inside, a sensation she had no word for. It almost felt as if he was pleading with her in some way through the connection. She looked down at his hand and frowned.

“Fine,” she said, taking a breath and putting her hand in his.

He folded his hand over hers and looked her in the eyes. “When we are alone tonight, we will talk. You will ask your questions, and I will answer them honestly,” he told her. “We should also talk about you,” he said more sternly. “I have to admit I have let my judgment of you be clouded by your current appearance. We need to spend some time talking about the real you, not the form you hide in.”

“I would like that,” she said to him in a quiet tone.

He smiled, but she hardly noticed it. His touch on her hand caused the stirring inside to become a storm. She knew it was the bind and could feel the chains of it rattling in her heart. She felt a sudden rush of feelings that were so foreign to her; they almost made her faint. She went to say something, but a voice suddenly stole her attention.

“Oh dear me, the poor lass is too ashamed to come into the house,” came a shrill voice that surprised them both. They looked up and saw the farmer's wife hurrying up the path with a garment in her hands.

Lilly looked directly at Gersius, her eyes wide and head shaking side to side.

“It is alright,” he said to her, reassuringly squeezing her hand.

“What do I do?” she whispered loudly.

“Just stand still. She will not harm you.”

Lilly turned to watch the woman with dread as she arrived.

“Oh, the poor thing has been crying, truly it was an ordeal you been through,” the woman said.

“Mrs Garandel, May I present to you the Lady, Lilly,” Gersius said with a bow.

“Oh sur'n she is a pretty thing, and oh her eyes! The monster must have put a terrible spell on her,” she said, noting the light that burned in them.

Mrs Garandel, was a short, plump woman who ran at them in layers of coats and skirts. She wore her dark hair up in a net, and her gentle face was creased and weathered by years of working in the sun. She held a long brown dress with a cream top in her hands and held the garment to Lilly to see if it would fit as Lilly flinched and squirmed away.

“She's so tall,” the kindly woman said. “Thankfully, my Linda is a tall one, gets it from her father, certainly not me.”

Lilly started to back away as the woman came at her but felt a warm touch as Gersius squeezed her hand again. She looked at him, and he smiled at her.

“It is safe, trust me,” he said.

She scowled at him for suggesting she trust him again, especially when he held her hand, preventing her escape.

“It's a shame what happened to you, dear,” Mrs Garandel went on as she pressed the Garment over Lilly. “But then a knight comes running to your rescue; it's like a storybook it is.” She seemed satisfied with the size and took a step back. “Well, let's get you dressed and into the house for some warm food.”

“Dressed?”

Gersius leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“She wants you to put those clothes on. They will fit you much better than what I gave you.” He saw the unhappy look on her face and softened his voice. “Please, Lilly, let her help you get them on.”

Lilly was angry, but she nodded her consent as Gersius released her hand, leaving her to the clutches of the Mrs Garandel.

Gersius turned his back as Mrs Garandel fitted the dress around Lilly, who flinched and trembled at every touch.

“My word, look at those marks, all across your shoulders and down your back?” she said, noticing Lilly's tattoos. “Well, they look good on you, lass, gods know I wouldn't be brave enough to let somebody come at me with a needle like that. Hold yer arms up, that's a good lass, A little loose in the tummy, and a tad tight in the chest, my Linda would wish to have your proportions.”

Lilly heard Gersius snicker, and her scowl for him deepened.

“Now we just lace you up here and your snug and dressed like a proper lady. Oh, but look at your feet!” she cried, turning to address Gersius. “Have you been walking this poor lady barefoot down a country lane?”

“Yes, he has,” Lilly said, suddenly finding her voice.

“Oh, but a knight should know better,” she said, swatting his arm.

“Hey now,” Gersius tried to protest.

“He should have carried ya or let you ride his horse,” she went on, ignoring him completely.

Gersius turned around and looked at Lilly to see her frowning deeply. She stood with her arms up while Mrs Garandel fluttered about pulling at the dress and sleeves. She looked snug indeed in her new clothes, and the soft leather wrap on her stomach made her curves all the more noticeable.

Gersius smiled as he took in her new appearance. She was indeed a beautiful woman with her blazing blue eyes and silver-blue hair. She had delicate but defined facial features with a strong mouth of full lips. The outfit was a simple dress with a slight ruffle along the collar that left her shoulders bare, revealing the strange blue markings. It was held in place by a wide belt that covered her entire stomach and tied with laces in the back. The belt pulled the dress tight around her narrow waist, making her shape striking. Only the look of death on her face darkened her otherwise beautiful appearance.

“Oh, the color of your hair! Is it silver or blue? I can't rightly tell in this light. Let's get you inside so I can see you better,” Mrs Garandel said as she tottered off, leading them to the house talking the whole way.

“You look pretty,” he said, stumbling on the word as he slowly walked to Lilly.

Lilly didn't respond. She just stood there, holding up her arms, scowling at him.

“You can put your arms down now,” he said with a smile.

“I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do,” she said angrily. “Are all rodent women like that?”

“Some of them are,” Gersius said. “Women are a lot like flowers. They come in all shapes and colors.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers.”

“Lilly, you did well, and you look good. Now, let us go inside and have something to eat.”

“Alright, but don’t allow that woman to assault me again,” she said, lowering her voice. She twisted her shoulders a bit and pulled at the material around her waist. It did fit nicer, and she liked the freedom of movement for her legs. It felt comfortable, a word she knew but never had a use for. She gathered up handfuls of the material that hung from her waist to see her feet again. “Why am I wearing this?” she asked, shaking it.

“It is what women wear,” Gersius said, not sure how to answer.

“Why is it not like yours?”

“Men wear pants mostly for work reasons, I suppose. Women wear what you have on now. We call that a dress.”

“Why do women not wear pants?”

Gersius smiled at the simple question. “Some do, but most women prefer dresses, gowns, and other things. When I get you to a city, you will be amazed by what women wear.” She nodded slightly at the comment, but he could see she was hesitating. “Lilly, come, it is time to go in,” he said, holding out his hand again. She looked down at it, and he whispered, “Please Lilly,”

Slowly she put her hand into his and let him wrap around it. She gritted her teeth as the sensations of the bind returned, and with it the unknown twistings.

He led her down the path to the door that Mrs Garandel had left open for them.

“Oh, here she is,” came Mrs Garandel’s voice as they walked in.

The surprisingly large room was warm and inviting. A low fired burned in the hearth to their right, a dark pot hanging from a hook right above. Wisps of steam rose from inside, drifting into the room as the soup boiled inside. The walls were remarkably white and bare of decoration, the floors made of polished flagstone, and neatly swept. Above their heads were stout oak beams, roughly hewn and fitted into place.

One wall was lined with cupboards and small tables with shelves above. These were covered in jars of jam, honey, and pickled fruits as well as baskets full of recently harvested vegetables. A single door stood just barely cracked, hinting as the deeper chambers beyond.

A thick heavy table dominated the whole of the main room. It was nicked and marked by years of family use, but sturdy and polished to perfection. Long benches of the same wood ran down either side, providing a comfortable place to sit.

The air was heavy with a scent that was a mixture of smoke and something pleasant. Lilly had never known this scent before, and the more she smelled it, the hungrier she became.

To Gersius, this was a paradise; a simple life lived with love and family. To Lilly, this was a place of wonder where everything was new and mysterious.

“The soups on,” called Mrs Garandel as she busied herself, digging something out of a cupboard.

“So, this is what the inside of one of your nests looks like?” Lilly said as her eyes looked at everything.

“This is called a farmhouse,” Gersius said.

“You live inside these?” she whispered to him.

“Some people do, but there are many more styles of house,” he whispered back.

“So, this is the rodent woman's lair?”

“Lilly, call her a human at least, and no, this belongs to her and her husband, and they have three children.”

Lilly glanced around the room quickly.

“I only see her.”

“The husband and eldest boy are outside, getting our room ready. The youngest is in bed already, and the eldest is away,” he repeated.

“Sit,” called Mrs Garandel as she fussed in the cupboard, “Sit yourselves down at the table.”

Gersius led her by the hand to the table before releasing her to take off his armor. He set it aside in a neat pile before taking a good long stretch, glad to be free of the weight. When he looked back, Lilly was standing exactly where he put her, uncertain of what to do.

“Watch me,” Gersius said, and he sat down at the table. “Sit here,” he said, patting the bench next to him.

She had trouble getting her leg over with the skirt, but Gersius told her to lift it with her hands, which made it much easier. She sat down next to him as her eyes continued to wander the room.

Mrs Garandel set a kettle into the coals before busying herself with the pot hanging from the hook. She stirred the contents while talking to herself about knights and ladies.

Lilly felt nervous but strangely safe. The room was warm, and the fire lit everything with a soft orange glow. She groped for his hand, eager for the reassurance, and was rewarded by his touch. As much as she hated the twisting that came with touching him, she did feel better knowing he was there. Then something touched her other hand, and she flinched in alarm. She turned to look into the eyes of a small rodent.

“Gersius,” she cried, leaning away from it. “What is that?”

“Maisy darling, don't be bothering the young lady,” Mrs Garandel called from the fire.

Gersius leaned back to look around Lilly and smiled. “That is a human child,” he said.

Lilly let the shock pass as she looked at the small child standing on the bench beside her with wonder. She was barely four feet tall with long golden hair that hung straight down her back. Her eyes were large and brown with a tiny little nose and mouth. In one arm, she clutched a ball of cloth and patches.

“Your eyes are pretty,” her tiny voice said.

“My eyes are pretty?” Lilly said, not sure what to do.

Maisy nodded her head in a rapid up and down motion.

Lilly felt Gersius squeeze her hand, and he whispered in her ear.

“Tell her that her that her eyes are pretty too,” he said.

Lilly wasn’t sure what that was supposed to do but did as he said. “Your eyes are pretty too.”

“Momma says I have big beautiful eyes,” Maisy said, starting to sway back and forth.

Gersius looked at her and spoke. “What is that you have there?”

Maisy took the object out of her arms and held it up with both hands.

“She's my best friend,” Maisy said, holding the small object of cloth out. It was a crude little animal sewn out of different scraps of cloth with a long spotted tail.

“This thing is your best friend?” Lilly asked while looking at the curious object that was presented before her.

“Ah, huh, she goes to bed with me and keeps me safe all night,” Maisy said.

“She?” Lilly asked, confused. “What is she?”

“She's a dragon,” Maisy said, holding it up higher.

“She's a dragon?”

Lilly felt a squeeze at her hand, and she turned to look at Gersius, who whispered in her ear. “It is called a toy. Children often play with them. They pretend they are other things that are special to them.”

Lilly pondered what play meant as she looked back to Maisy, who had returned to cradling her dragon in her arms.

“Why do you have a dragon?” Lilly asked as she watched the child clutch the toy.

“Because dragons are big and strong and not afraid of anything,” the little girl replied.

“Yes,” Lilly said, looking lost in thought. “Yes, they are.”

“Maisy child, I told you to stop bothering the lovely lady,” said Mrs Garandel as she walked by and swept the child off the bench. Lilly watched her go, resting her tiny head on her mother's shoulder. She closed her eyes and put a thumb in her mouth, in her other hand, dangled her dragon.

Lilly could only watch mesmerized as the child was carried through the doorway. She never knew the rodents could be so small and so frail. How the child seemed at peace in the older rodent's arms made her suddenly think of her own mother. Had her relationship with her been so gentle?

Mrs Garandel returned a few moments later and set two large wooden bowls and spoons down before them. She trotted off to the fire and used a hook to collect the pot.

“Soups a bit hot, you might need to let it sit a bit,” she said while carrying it over.

“Thank you, Mrs Garandel,” Gersius said as she set it down and ladled the vegetable-laden broth into the bowls.

Lilly looked at the golden liquid before her in wonder. It had a rich scent that drifted up on tiny wisps of steam, teasing her nose with things she had no words for.

“What? What is this?” Lilly said when the woman left and vanished through the door in the back of the room.

“I believe it is chicken soup,” Gersius said.

“It is hot?” Lilly asked, warily feeling the heat on her face as she leaned over it.

Gersius understood what she was getting at and gave her hand another squeeze before letting it go.

“It is hot, but do not worry, I will show you how to eat it safely. First, you need one of these,” he said, reaching down and taking a spoon. He smiled as she looked at the object like she had never seen one before. “Go ahead and pick yours up,” he said, nodding his head at the one next to her bowl.

Lilly looked to the object and carefully picked it up, She fumbled with it a moment, and he had to help her get it right.

“Now, this is the easy part; you just dip it into the soup like this.”

She watched as the spoon disappeared into the golden liquid and came back with chunks of food swimming in the broth.

“All you have to do to cool it down is blow on it gently.” He blew a few times until the steam rising off of it vanished. “Now it is ready to eat,” he added and put the spoonful in his mouth. “Go ahead, you try it,” he said while chewing.

Lilly looked down at the bowl and tried to mimic what he did. She dipped her spoon and dumped the contents a few times before getting it right. When she finally had a spoonful, she held it up and blew on it gently.

“A little harder,” he said, “You want to make sure you cool it.”

She shot him a sideways glance and blew much harder. The broth froze solid, and frost ran up the spoon as a freezing air blew from her lips.

Gersius jumped and dropped his spoon. He quickly batted at her hands and hid them under the table as Mrs Garandel returned to the table with a small wooden plate and some bread.

“Everything alright?” she asked, noticing the strange looks they both had on their faces.

“Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs Garandel,” Gersius said, taking his hands away from Lilly.

She set the plate down and walked away, muttering something about strange people and strange ways.

“Why did you do that?” Gersius whispered when Mrs Garandel was far enough away.

“You told me to blow on it,” Lilly said in a tense voice.

“I wanted you to cool it off, not freeze it solid.”

“I didn’t even know I could do that,” Lilly shot back.

“You need to be more careful,” he said, picking her spoon up. The food was frozen in a lump of ice, but Gersius had an idea. “Put it back in your soup and stir it,” he said. When it was clear, she didn't fully understand he showed her with his spoon. “This will thaw the spoon, and cool the soup,” he said.

Lilly did as she was told, stirring the spoon slowly in the soup until it thawed.

“Try it now,” Gersius said.

Carefully she took another spoonful and held it to her lips, she blew on it gently once and then slowly put it in her mouth. She looked at Gersius as she pulled the spoon back out.

“Well?” he said, not able to read her expression.

“I like it,” was all she managed to say before getting another spoonful.

Gersius decided it was safe to let her continue unsupervised, and went back to his bowl.

Lilly ate rapidly, shoving one spoonful in before she had managed to swallow the one before it. She couldn't believe the flavors of this substance called soup and hungrily devoured it.

Gersius shook his head, laughing as droplets of soup ran down her chin.

“Are you waffing at me?” she asked with a mouth full of food.

“I am,” he said, still smiling.

“Why?”

“Slow down a little. Finish one mouthful before getting another. You do not have to eat so quickly.”

She sat back and looked down at her spoon halfway to her already full mouth. She made the loudest swallowing sound Gersius ever heard as she downed a full mouth in one go.

“Alright,” she said, then continued eating.

“Perhaps you would like to try the bread?” he asked her.

“What is bread?” she replied, now hunched over her bowl to shorten the distance her spoon had to travel.

“This, my Lady Lilly, is bread,” he said, reaching to the plate. He pushed the two slices aside and was pleased to discover a small blob of whipped butter and a knife. “And this is what is known as butter.” He took the knife and scooped up a bit of butter and gently spread it across a thick slice of crusty white bread.

Lilly watched every movement intently, forgetting the spoon that dangled just above the soup.

“Here you go,” he said, holding the slice before her face. “Try this.”

She dropped the spoon into the soup and reached up with both hands for the bread spreading the butter through her fingers. She sniffed at it and found the scent pleasing, so she took a large firm bite.

For a moment, she looked shocked, and Gersius was sure she didn't like it, but then she closed her eyes and began to chew, making a slight humming sound. To his surprise, she ate slowly as if savoring the flavor.

“I take you like the bread?”

“This is,” she paused to search for the right words. “beautiful?” she said questioningly.

“With flavors, one might say, this is wonderful, or this is delicious,” he said, correcting her.

“This is delicious,” she said again, closing her eyes. She chewed for a bit and then opened them to look at Gersius. “Why did you not tell me about this?” she said, annoyed.

“Why did I not tell you about bread?”

“I thought my life with you was going to be misery after misery, but this.” She took another bite and hummed. “This is pleasing.”

“I am glad to know you had such high expectations for your time with me,” he chuckled.

She looked at him with a sideways glance and returned to her bread.

They continued to eat, enjoying the food, and making small remarks when Mrs Garandel returned with another basket.

“I made a big batch of these the other morning, but they are still good, and it isn't often one gets to feed a knight and his lady.”

“Actually, I am a Battle Priest,” Gersius said as she set the basket down.

“Knight, priest, don't make no matter to me,” she said, trotting off.

“I thought you were a Knight-Captain?” Lilly asked.

“That is my rank in the order of Astikar. But I am a battle priest. A true knight is often a special soldier in a noble's house. We do not refer to ourselves as knights. Sometimes we even call the rank Lord Captain instead.”

Lilly shrugged at the explanation and returned to the food.

“What are those?” she said, looking into the basket.

Gersius looked down and saw a half dozen small round cakes with a soft golden color.

“That looks like a tart of some kind. You should try one,” he suggested.

Lilly reached out a buttery hand and took one of the little tarts. She sniffed it to discover a sweet scent that teased her senses and made her crave it. She gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling the soft texture the readily deformed in her grasp. She took a little bite and looked at Gersius, a crumb falling from her lip as she chewed impossibly slowly. She took another slow, deliberate bite, never taking her eyes off him.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“This is the best thing I have ever tasted,” she said, looking down at the tart in her hand. She quickly stuffed the rest into her mouth and looked to him. “Can I have another?” she asked, even as she chewed the first one.

“I believe she gave us the basket so we could have as many as we wanted,” he told her.

She ate another tart, then another. Gersius finally decided to try one before they were gone and took a bite.

“Ahh, an apple tart, very delicious.”

“Apple tart,” Lilly repeated as she ate another.

When the meal was over Mrs, Garandel returned with a large wooden tub.

“Time we did something about those poor feet of yours,” she said, putting the tub on the floor before Lilly.

Lilly felt panic rising again and looked to Gersius for support. “What does she want to do to my feet?” she asked him when the woman walked away.

“I believe she wants to wash them,” he told her.

“Wash them?” Lilly repeated, unsure.

“I have a suspicion that you are going to like this,” he said, a smile on his face. He told her to turn around and pull the hem of the skirt over her knees. He then instructed her to put her feet in the tub and wait. As she did Mrs, Garandel came back with a bucket of water in her hands.

“Lift your feet a moment dear and keep them up,” she said and then poured the water into the tub.

Lilly held her feet over the water and looked at Gersius again. A familiar squeeze came to her hand, and he whispered in her ear. “She is paying you a tremendous honor. Washing a stranger's feet is considered a great act of kindness,” he said.

Lilly nodded, but in truth, she wasn't sure what he meant.

Mrs Garandel went to the fireplace and, with a bundle of cloth, picked up the kettle that was steaming there. Carefully she brought it over and began to pour it into the tub.

“This will give it a nice warm feel, just the thing for sore feet,” she said, emptying the kettle and setting it aside. She knelt at the base of the tub and looked up at Lilly. “Go ahead, lovely; you can put your feet down.”

A squeeze of her hand brought her attention to Gersius, who nodded that it was safe. Slowly Lilly lowered her feet until they barely touched the water. She jerked back when she felt the heat, but Gersius squeezed her hand again.

“Just put them in slowly,” he said.

She nodded and tried again, going even slower and flinching as she felt the heat. Just as he said, it was tolerable, and she pushed on until her feet sank in.

A whole new world of feeling rolled through her feet as the warm water embraced them. She felt so relaxed that her eyes began to close, only to jump as firm hands took hold of a foot.

“Poor thing, walking all that way with nothing ‘tween you and the road, lucky you don't have a blister or worse,” The woman rambled on as she worked, rubbing the dirt from Lilly's feet. She produced a pure white stone from one of her many pockets and began to rub on Lilly's feet. A foam began to form as the stone passed over her skin, adding to the soothing feeling. Missed Garandel rubbed this foam up and down her legs, wiping away days of dirt and grim. She used both hands to caress the soles of Lilly's feet and gently get between her toes. She worked diligently at her task, talking about how lucky Lilly was that a knight rescued her.

Lilly didn't hear a thing; all she knew was the sensation of her feet being rubbed. Never in her long life had she experienced anything like this, or dreamed such was possible. She felt more relaxed than she could ever remember being and leaned back, closing her eyes again. It was a truly sad moment when the washing stopped, and a towel was produced to dry her feet.

Gersius offered to carry the tub outside and dump the water, leaving Lilly to sit at the table, her feet wrapped in the towel. When he returned, he found her fidgeting and looking around like a lost child.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he approached.

“I was just thinking,” she said, not looking up.

“And what were you thinking about?” he asked as he sat beside her.

“I was thinking that you rodents are not what I thought you were.”

Gersius put his hand on the table and leaned in close. “These are good people, with kind hearts,” he said. “I am afraid there are many people who are not as good and do not have kind hearts. You need to be careful, Lilly. Do not trust everyone you meet.”

Lilly looked at him with confusion as the tall farmer appeared and told them their room was ready.

Gersius thanked them and collected his armor before turning to Lilly with a serious look on his face.

“It is time we had that talk.”

“Here, here!” shouted Mrs Garandel as she came running. She handed a small bundle to Lilly, who took it from her carefully. “It's an old pair of shoes, but they are in usable condition. Should do until you can get something nicer up in Tots creek, or maybe the Millwater if you're headed up that way.” Gersius thanked her again and took Lilly's hand to follow the farmer.

She cradled the shoes to her chest as they walked into the night. Soon she hoped she would know just why he needed her.

 

They were taken to a dark barn hidden behind the house, lit only by the torch in the farmer's hand. Lilly didn't mind the dark, her dragon sight making it appear bright as day. She followed the two men to a small room in the back that contained little save for two piles of sticks with some cloth thrown over them. The farmer hung the lantern from a hook near the center of the room before bidding them goodnight.

Gersius thanked the man and dropped his pack in the corner before starting on his armor. Lilly crept to one of the stick piles assuming it was a nest of some kind. Maybe there was an animal inside she could eat while they waited here.

“Are you familiar with these?” Gersius asked as he noticed her inspecting one of them.

Lilly looked at the strange nests with her head turned sideways and wondered what he meant.

“We sleep on them; we call them beds,” he said, walking over to the one she was closest to. He lifted a blanket and held it open. “We pull these over ourselves to stay warm at night.”

“This is your bed?” she asked, unable to believe it.

“Yes, the straw cushions you, and the blanket keeps you warm.”

“You rodents pile up sticks and rags to sleep on instead of gold and silver?”

Gersius nodded as he smiled at her remark. “The farmers are relatively poor and have done the best they could for us. This is a very simple bed that will do for one night. You will see when we get to a town that there are much better beds. For tonight though, I need you to sleep here.”

“I understand, I will sleep on this, bed,” she said as he let the blanket drop.

Gersius was grateful that she accepted that so easily and went back to the other side. Lilly sat on her bed and pulled her knees up, watching him the whole time.

“So humans are not what you thought they were?” he said as he sat on the other bed.

“No, what happened with that woman was not what I expected,” Lilly admitted and paused before continuing. “I have no words for what I am feeling. I do not regret that I have come here, but I have concerns.”

Gersius nodded and met her gaze as she felt something pushing at her across the bind.

“Why don't we start with you telling me how you feel,” he said. “That way, I will know what I need to tell you most.”

Lilly nodded her head and looked up as she pondered her next words.

“What I am about to say is very hard for me,” She began. “I have lived for over five hundred years, and in all that time, I rarely saw your kind. Even when I did, it was from afar as I flew over your heads hidden in the clouds. You were nothing to me, but little creatures that scurried about with short, miserable lives.”

“So, you knew nothing about us?” Gersius asked.

“I know of your nests, these farmhouses. I know of the places where you build lots of nests, what I assume you mean when you say town. I even know the names of some of these places. I know you build your roads, gather your animals, and collect in great numbers. I know what you look like from afar, and never did you occupy my mind or concern me. I am a dragon; I am above you.” She broke to make a deep sigh. “Occasionally, one of your kind would venture into my valley, and I would watch you. I never bothered with you even then unless you tried to enter my cave. When you did, I would kill you; your lives mean nothing to me.”

Gersius nodded as she paused to take a stuttering breath.

“But now I am forced to walk around in this weak form, lost and helpless. I am bound to one of the rodents, and I can no longer do as I please. I can't even take my true form unless I want to suffer the pain of my mangled wings. I worry that this encounter with these rodents is only the beginning. You plan to take me into these towns and surround me with masses of your kind. I have no concept or your ways, and I feel I will look foolish. I worry that I am destined to walk from humiliation to humiliation as the rodents point at me and laugh.”

“Lilly, you have nothing to fear,” he said. “I will be there to guide your steps and protect you.”

“You don’t understand,” Lilly argued as tears started to form in her eyes. “I do not wish to be talking to you, but I have to because,” she shook as she tried to get her words out. “I am... I am not just a slave bound to you. I am dependent on you. I need you to survive now. Me, a dragon, I need you, and that is the greatest humiliation of them all. That I even have to sit here on this bed of sticks and rags and explain myself to you, it hurts.”

Gersius was genuinely taken aback by the way she felt. He had no concept of her true point of view, and trying to appreciate it now was beyond him. Lilly was hundreds of years old, and in all that time, humanity meant nothing to her. She saw them as little more than rodents, and now she was enslaved and dependent on them.

“I didn't even know what fear was until a few days ago, and now I feel like I live in it. I don’t know what you want from me, and I am afraid to find out,” she said. “I have tried to ask you, but you keep saying that you need me.” She looked up at him tears falling from her eyes. “Do I have to beg you? Do I have to humiliate myself even more and crawl at your feet and call you master?”

Gersius got up, unable to bear any more. He moved to her and took her hands in his own even as she frowned and struggled to resist him.

“Now you listen to me. Do not ever call me master,” he said to her in a firm tone. “I have to admit I cannot appreciate how far you have fallen and the pain you must feel.” He stopped as she turned her head away, looking down as the tears flowed freely. “I also cannot appreciate your view of people. For hundreds of years, we meant nothing to you; now you find yourself enslaved to one one of us. I suppose it would be like me finding myself enslaved to a bug.”

She let out a series of sobs at his comments.

“I have also not been fair to you by not answering your questions. I did not realize you were so afraid of where we were going or for what reasons. I am sorry I have made you live in that fear.” He paused again and squeezed her hands.

“I would never sell you, or trade you, or use you in any way that would dishonor you,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I have not forgotten that you are a dragon. You are far too precious to me to ever consider using you for so petty a purpose.”

“Then why?” she pleaded. “You said you came all that way to find me, because you needed me, what do you need me for?”

“Lilly,” he said, looking away and letting her hands go. “My people are dying,”

She said nothing but looked at him intently as a coldness pressed at her from the bind.

“My homelands are under attack by an enemy that has come in vast numbers. We have underestimated him several times, and it cost us dearly. I was put in charge of the armies sent to stop him, and I made a decision that haunts me night and day.

“What decision?” Lilly asked.

“We had no idea the war was coming,” Gersius began. “When they first attacked, they swept across a vast area of land burning farms and villages. The people fled to a nearby city as I began to organize my armies. I could have marched right away, but I knew the city had strong walls and would hold for at least ten days. With that time, I could double my strength and lead a powerful force to break them.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair as he looked down, mouthing silent words. “The city fell in three days,” he finally said. “The people inside were trapped and massacred.”

Lilly was curious about why that mattered and studied his reactions. She could see he was pained by something and felt a sense of sorry and loss across the bind. This city, whatever that was, meant a great deal to him, and its destruction was a deep wound.

“Why does that hurt you so much?” Lilly dared to ask.

Gersius was silent a long moment as he exhaled a deep breath. “You once asked me about my sister and where she was now.” He looked up and met her gaze, his eyes wet with tears. “She was there, in the city I was sure would last for ten days. She died while I waited for more men to fill out my army.”

Lilly was still confused. Why would that matter? She had siblings of her own and hadn't seen any of them since she left her mother's cave. Come to think of it, she hadn't thought of them in hundreds of years.

“Since then, we have met and fought the enemy many times. He always seems to know our plans and is ready for us. There have been some major battles, and three times now, I have routed his forces but at a terrible cost. When I started, we had nearly fifteen thousand priests of Astikar. Now we can barely field five thousand. We trusted in our strength and discipline augmented by the power of our god. The enemy was prepared to deal with us and take advantage of our overconfidence. They brought weavers and priests of some unknown god we do not understand, and were able to match us on the field of battle, blessing for blessing.”

“So, what will your army do now?” Lilly asked.

Gersius shook his head. “I have divided my remaining priests into smaller units to support the regular infantry supplied by the lords of the old empire. They are trusting in a series of border keeps built into the hills to keep the enemy at bay. It is a losing strategy, the line is too long, and one break in it will spell disaster.”

“Why didn’t you take charge and lead the armies out?” Lilly asked.

“Because I already tried,” Gersius replied. “We have raised two armies, and I was in charge of the largest. I led them out to meet the enemy and retake the lost city. I beat them back until the cities walls were in sight. Then my scouts arrived with a dire warning; this was all a trap. The enemy had three full armies and two smaller formations. They were falling back to draw me out while the two larger forces encircled me. I had to order a retreat at great haste or risk being surrounded and destroyed. We were nearly cut off, and I had to fight a desperate battle to keep a gap open. It cost me too many men and ended any hope I had of going on the offensive. The one saving grace is I managed to shatter the army that got in my way. It will take them some time to reorganize before they can march again.”

“Why not get more soldiers?” Lilly asked.

“I tried that too,” Gersius replied. “The land I am from was once a great empire. It was made up of twelve provinces and a few minor territories and was the most powerful military force in the region. However, those days are over. The empire is dead, and the provinces have since broken into their own independent kingdoms. Each one of them is in danger, but they refuse to unite and stand against the enemy. They have sent token forces while hoarding the best of the soldiers inside their territories for self-defense.”

Lilly felt a wave of anger over the bind. He was angry about that point, and about the armies being held back.

“When the enemy breaks the border keeps and sweeps east, they will all perish. The people know this and are starting to panic. There are calls for empire once again, but there is no man to unite them. They need a symbol of the past to bring them together and restore the empire. It is the only way they are going to turn the tide and survive.” He stopped and looked back at Lilly, his lip trembling.

“Then why do you need me?” she asked. “Did you want me to fight in this war of yours?”

“I need you to be the symbol they are looking for.”

“How can I the symbol they are looking for?” she asked.

“The empire was formed during a war like this one. The same enemy marched against a collection of small kingdoms and city-states. The armies fought them like before, but political backstabbing and greedy manipulators were undermining the effort. A man rose up and united the lands under his banner, shaping them into a single mighty empire. He accomplished this through an act of bravery and heroism that left the people in awe of him.”

“What did he do?” Lilly asked.

“He battled and defeated a dragon, then brought it back as a symbol of his strength and power. With that symbol, the lands fell in line, and he took charge of their armies. He marched out and defeated the enemy, bringing peace and prosperity. He made the city of Calathen his capital and built the cloud palace.” Gersius paused to wipe his eyes. “He ruled for only a short time, but in that time he penned a book, a collection of predictions he made. He said that if the enemy ever returned to threaten the land, a new hero would rise and walk in his steps. We would know this hero because he would arrive with another dragon and lead it through the golden gate of the city” He paused again and looked at Lilly with dire eyes. “The enemy is back, the lands are divided, and I can't win unless I can unite them.”

“So you were telling the truth when you said you needed me?” she asked slowly.

“I was.”

“You want me to pretend you beat me in a fight so you can trick your people into following you?”

Gersius let out a sigh at her words.

“No,” he said. “I want you to be the hope and light of my people. I want you to help me rally them and save them.”

“But you do need me to pretend you tamed me, to prove your courage and power?”

Gersius nodded his head lost in thought for a moment.

“I did,” he said. “I did before.”

“You did?” she said questioningly. “What about now?”

“I wasn't sure what to expect from dragons. In all my life, I have never met anyone who has seen a dragon. The only dragon anyone knows of is the red that attacked you, and he dwells very far away. Most of us assumed that he was just a story made up to frighten children. I did a great deal of research but was unable to find any useful information about your kind. I found an old story of a man talking to a dragon, but I thought it was just a story. In truth, I assumed you were little more than large animals, and I would have to tame you.” He paused again and ran a hand through his short wild hair. “Lilly, I need to save my people. I thought if I could tame you, then I could use you to rally them. But I did not tame you; I didn't even defeat you.”

“No, you did not,” she said, sounding irritated.

“I will tell them that I did not tame you; I will tell them.”

“Tell them what? That you found a dying dragon lying in a ditch? That you bartered my life for servitude? Will you tell them that I begged you to kill me? What will your people think when they see me?” she asked. “What will they think when they see a dragon with broken wings limping across the battlefield? Is that the image you are hoping will rally your people?”

“I have to try! There is no other way,” he said, turning away in shame.

Lilly sat in silence uncertain of what to say as Gersius retreated, sitting with his back to her. She remembered the other day and his strange reaction to her question. Since he was talking, she decided to find out why.

“When we left your camp the other day, I told you that you were brave because you had come to face me alone.” She paused to see if he would respond. “But you told me that you had not come alone, what did you mean?”

“I set out with a host of brothers. I planned to overwhelm you with numbers and combined divine power.”

“How many is a host?”

“Thirty men,” he said.

She suddenly felt pleased that he had brought thirty men to face her, surely that was a sign of respect, but she wondered. “Where are your thirty men?”

“Dead, all of them but one,” he said in a low tone. “We were several weeks on the road and deep into the wilds. We made camp on a hill in the forest, believing we were safe. They struck at night, came in numbers I could not believe.”

“Who did?”

“Bandersooks,” he said. “The enemy uses them as shock troops driving them in hordes at our lines. I do not know how so many of them got this far east. Our sentries were cut down in seconds and the camp overrun. As we were not expecting a battle, most of us didn't have on our armor. Still, we slaughtered many of them, but only two of us were still standing when the sun rose the next day.

“Where is the other man then?”

“I sent him back to report our disaster and went on to face you alone.”

She pondered the thought for a moment before coming to a conclusion.

“So you are a brave man,” she said. “It doesn't matter how many men you started with; in the end, you chose to face me alone.”

“I chose to die alone,” he said, almost shouting.

“What?”

“I failed and had given up. I was too cowardly to go back and report the disaster myself. I couldn't bear the thought of having to face the condemnation for what I had done. I was not brave. I was a coward. I went into your valley alone because I was hoping you would kill me,” he said, running a shaking hand through his wild brown hair. “None of this was supposed to happen. I just wanted to restore hope; I just wanted to save them.”

Her dragon eyes saw everything as he fell apart in the corner. She watched him shake as he struggled to contain the pain locked inside. He was the one in turmoil now, suffering over something she didn't fully understand.

“He wanted to die?” she said to herself quietly. She thought of that day in the valley, and how she begged him to kill her. What twist of fate brought two beings together, hoping the other would kill them and end their pain?

“I am sorry I wasn't able to heal your wings,” he sobbed. “I never wanted you to be harmed like that.”

Why did he care about her wings? Why did he keep trying to protect her? She thought about the day she sobbed beside the little stream after he yelled at her. She was so frightened and alone, but then he did something that made her feel safe. The twisting in her stomach was back as she watched him and felt his sorrow. Slowly she got to her feet and crept across the room, the twisting inside imploring her to go on.

“I want to be honest with you as you have been honest with me. Your war and your people mean nothing to me, and I have no faith in this plan of yours. I do not like being bound to you, and I want nothing but to be rid of you and go home.” She took another breath. “But I am not stupid, I know that I need you, and you have done as you promised. You limited my binding to a year and a day, and you have been respectful of me. These other rode-, humans have been good to me as well.”

“I am glad you got to see we are not so bad,” he said softly.

“I don’t like being bound, but I will go where you need me to go and try to help you, even if I have to pretend you defeated me.”

He was quiet and still, with his back facing her, and his head hung low. She thought of the stream again and wondered if maybe she could do the same. She steadied herself and took a deep breath as she knelt beside him. She lifted her arm and trembled as she reached over him and put her arm on his shoulder.

“I don't know much about you, humans,” she said, struggling to use the word human instead of rodent. “And I understand you about as little as you understand me, but I do know one thing. When you held me like this, I felt better.” Her arm tightened as she leaned into him, pulling them together.

He sobbed and nodded his head. “Thank you, Lilly. Thank you.”

She held him until he finally got control of himself and lay down to sleep. The truth was finally out, and she knew why he needed her. The question now was, could she really be the symbol he needed? She went back to her pile of sticks and sat there, wondering where this road would lead.

Gersius stretched his arms with a great yawn as the dawn's light began to crawl over the world. They spent much of the night talking, and he felt it now as he worked his arms to break the stiffness and rose to his feet. He glanced at Lilly as she rose and began to brush at her dress to remove the hay that clung to the fabric.

As his senses returned, he began to notice the dusty smell of the small space they used for a room. The scent of straw mixed with that of damp stone and plaster to create the unmistakable scent of a barn.

He looked to Lilly again, and their eyes met. She gave him a gentle smile before beginning to shake out her hair to remove yet more straw. He felt a strange joy at that smile, a feeling that things might be getting better.

He turned his attention to getting ready for the journey ahead. His muscles complained as he lifted the plates of his armor and began to buckle it on. He always felt safer in his armor but often wished to do without it, longing for the day he no longer needed it. He packed his helm and gloves into his backpack, hoping to escape some of the heat. With a groan, he swung the pack over his shoulder and turned to see Lilly watching him.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

She nodded her head, watching him intently but remained silent.

The morning light stung his eyes as they exited the dark interior of the barn. The land outside was a grassy pasture ringed by a low fence of posts. It smelled of weeds, and animals carried on a gentle breeze that blew from the south. The house sat still in the cool morning air until the familiar form of Misses Garandel in her layers of coats and lace came around the corner.

“Can't be going off on such a long walk without a good breakfast,” she insisted as she tottered toward them. “Into the house now, I already have the food on.”

“I guess we can have one more meal,” he said with a smile toward Lilly.

Lilly followed them to the house that was warm and lit by a dim amber glow. The smell of smoke mixed with that of meat sizzling as it cooked over a metal plate that rested on the coal. She took a deep inhale and smiled, excited for a new experience in human food.

She sat beside Gersius at the table and waited anxiously. She glanced at him several times to find him looking down or away, lost in a private thought. His face looked emotionless as if made of stone with eyes staring into some other world. She decided to leave him be, focusing on the room around her and the smells that were so pleasing.

Misses Garandel placed plates of food before them with a smile before tottering off on other chores. Lilly looked down in wonder at the yellow lumps, strips of cook meat, and crusty bread. She went to eat with her hands, but Gersius finally took notice and corrected her showing her how to use a fork.

She was grateful he'd spoken, but the moment had been brief, and he returned to his stone-faced expression. She pretended to struggle with her fork and even coughed a few times to get his attention, but he never noticed. A thought to say something sprang to mind, but she choked back the words, unsure what to say. For some reason, his silence bothered her, and she desperately wished he would speak.

She reached inside and discovered she could feel the bind to him. He felt cold across it, almost oppressive as if he were a weight on her shoulders. She quickly let go and decided to give him some time to clear his head, and turned her thoughts to the food before her.

She sampled them and found them pleasing, especially the strips of meat. The flavors were all new to her, and she savored the moment with a little smile and hum. She ate more slowly this time, tasting everything with delight and humming through it all. She even began to play with the food a little pushing it around the plate to make little mounds. She glanced at Gersius again and caught him smiling at her.

Instantly she felt the now familiar twisting deep inside. The sensation she had no words for but always seem to bloom from him. She realized It felt stronger the closer she was to him. It was something of him, something to do with the magic of the bind, allowing her to feel parts of him. She began to wonder if he felt anything of her, or was he too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice?

His words from the night before came back to her mind. He was deeply concerned about these humans that he called his people. This ‘war’ was painful to him because it hurt these people. He needed her help because the people believed a hero would come with a dragon. He hoped she would allow him to unite the lands once again to repel the invaders and restore peace. It required her to pretend he'd defeated her in battle, and that thought was aggravating. It made little sense to her, but it clearly meant a lot to him, so she agreed to help. She felt much better about their arrangement now. He thanked her sincerely, and together they established an agreement that made her feel much better. Now she wasn't just a slave being dragged away, but more of a partner working together to better them both.

Lilly pondered all of this carefully, particularly how she felt about humans. She was unable to make her previous view of humans fit what she now knew about them. She was also enthralled by the food they ate. She never imagined food could taste so good, it was all so, what was that word he used, delicious? The taste of a deer or goat, or even a horse was still pleasing, but this magic humans called cooking made everything taste even better. She hoped there would be more of this cooking in the future to savor and enjoy.

With a sigh, she looked down at her nearly empty plate. Her life had changed so much in just a couple of days. She was still a crippled dragon, but why did she feel like she was better off? Why did these moments of her life feel so fulfilling?

When the meal was over, Misses Garandel produced what she called a brush and insisted on using it on Lilly's hair. Lilly sat at the edge of the bench, flinching and twitching as the woman worked, pulling at her hair with the device.

“Isn't proper for a lady to go around hair all in tangles,” Misses Garandel said as she brushed. “Such a strange color of hair, silvery blue, and soft as silk. You are such a lovely one.”

Gersius used this moment to go into the front yard and knelt in the dew-laden grass to clear his mind. All morning he felt something reaching from Lilly. It pushed at him over the bind like a child poking at him. He knew he could feel something of her emotions, but this calling at him was new. As much as he wanted to explain everything to her, he had more important things to worry about. They were at the far southern farms, but they needed to go north and get on one of the main roads west. From here, he needed to work his way northwest to Calathen. If he could go straight west back across the Greenwall, he would reach Whiteford and then could take the northwest road through Kingsbridge, but that mean trekking across the wilds and risking more bandersook attacks. The north road was safer and took him around the Greenwall, but it was also longer. It would take him a month of walking to get there. More likely, it would take two with the needed stops and meals for Lilly’s sake.

Did he have that much time? If the Doan took as long as he hoped to reorganize and advance again, he might have three months. If his brothers harassed them as they tried to mass, he might have a little more. His mind drifted back to Lilly, back to the woman who saw humans as ants and hated to wear their form. He felt he was being cruel by forcing her to fill this role for him. She had agreed to do it, but she also said she was dependent on him. How much of her decision was made in light of that dependence? That thought would have to wait; right now, he needed the embrace of his god to remind him why he was doing this.

The cool wet of the dew-soaked the plate on his knees as he lifted his arms out. With closed eyes, he focused and steadied his breathing as he opened his heart and his voice to the divine. He offered up thanks to his God Astikar, the god of mercy and justice. He thanked him for bringing Lilly into his life and vowed to get her to Calathen. Somehow he knew he had done the right thing healing her and that once they got to Calathen, all would be well. He clung to this thought as he prayed for guidance and power. His heart and mind one with the divine as the might of Astikar rolled through him.

When his prayers were over, he struggled to stand and wiped the wetness from his knees. He stretched his arms again, working the tired muscles of his back as he turned to the house.

Lilly stumbled out of the farmhouse with hair brushed and braided. She smiled and walked across the yard stumbling a little and pulling at the shoes at her feet.

“Why do you rodents wear these?” she asked while lifting a foot to tug on the shoe.

“Most humans cannot walk very far barefoot, it risks injury to one’s feet,” he replied.

“So you make uncomfortable coverings for your them?” she asked.

“We call that a shoe. For most people, a shoe is something that has to fit properly to be comfortable. Those look a little too small for you, but some protection is better than none.”

She tugged at it a little more then put her foot down. “I am ready to go,” she said.

“I wish to thank the farmer and his wife for their kindness. I will meet you by the road in a moment.”

Lilly nodded and stumbled off for the road as he went back to the farmhouse. He went inside and thanked the couple for their kindness and then returned to Lilly with a nod. Off they went down the dirt track that was the road as the sky above began to take on a deeper blue.

His eyes studied her as they walked, her hair was freshly brushed, and carefully braided down the sides. The look framed her face and made her delicate features more noticeable, especially her blue eyes. The glow was gone, but in the morning light, they seemed to sparkle with magic. They were so intensely blue he was struck by their beauty like sapphires held up to the sunlight. She glanced his way and caught him looking at her, a smile curling her face as she quickly looked away.

“Your hair looks nice,” he said, causing her to smile wider.

“That woman insisted on tying it like this,” she said, tugging gently at a braid.

“It is called a braid, and it looks good on you.”

“She said so too,” Lilly said before pausing as if considering something. “Why did she keep calling me lovely?”

Gersius bit his lip a moment as he thought about his answer. “It is another way to say you are beautiful.” Her eyes looked about as she considered his words before her mouth came open, and a blush turned her cheeks pink.

They walked down the road for another hour, talking about everything she had learned. Lilly described how much she liked the food over and over. She explained all the flavors to him as if he didn't know what they were. Gersius only laughed at her lack of understanding and let her go on. He then had a thought that hadn't occurred to him before. `“What do dragons eat?”

“People mostly,” she said without pause or hesitation.

He stopped in his tracks staring at her as she walked past him giggling.

That is not funny,” he said as he smiled to see her tease him and laugh. He was amazed at the harmless expression of happiness. Was she starting to heal?

Lilly waited until he started moving again and caught up before she answered. “We eat any large animals, deer, elk, sheep, cows, some large fish if we bother to catch them,” she said, counting off her fingers as she listed things.

“I saw you had a fondness for fish,” he said, smiling.

She shot him a sideways glance with narrowed eyes. “The truth is, we don’t eat very much at all. A dragon might eat five or six deer in a single day, and then not eat for five to ten years.”

“How is that possible?” Gersius asked with raised brows and mouth agape.

“Well, for one, most dragons will sleep that whole time. My mother called it dovulind, which I think in your language is dragon sleep.”

“You sleep for years?” Gersius said, his brows even higher.

“Well, I never did, weeks, sometimes a few months, but then I would be awake for months at a time as well.”

“So you can sleep for years, and be awake for years without sleeping?”

“I don’t know any dragon that was ever awake for years at a time. At least my mother never said anything about it, but she told me of dragons that have slept for hundreds of years.”

“That is difficult to imagine,” Gersius said. “But if you are awake for months, do you eat more then?”

Lilly bobbed her head as her eyes aimlessly looked about. “I suppose I ate more if I stayed awake, but it was not much more. In one six month span, I think I ate maybe eight deer and one horse.”

“A horse?” Gersius laughed. “Where did you find a horse?”

“It was wandering around my valley one day. I have no idea how it got in there.”

“How do you maintain your health if you eat so little compared to your size?” he asked.

“Well, that is the second thing.” She took a breath, and her eyes wandered again. “There is much I know about the way magic works that you don’t. Dragons are magical in nature, and we can consume,” She stopped and looked down her mouth, silently working. “That is not the right way to say it. We can absorb magical from things, specific things.” She smiled brightly with that answer.

“You absorb magic?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Did you ever wonder why dragons accumulate treasure hoards?” she asked.

“I think everybody wonders that,” he replied.

“Your kind believes it is greed, vanity, and pride, but there is something more that we do not like to share outside our kind,” she made a quick look about and squeezed her hands together. “Promise me, you will not share what I am about to tell you,” she asked, stopping to look him in the eyes.

“Of course, I swear on my faith to Astikar I will not reveal your secrets,” he said.

Lilly closed her eyes and took a breath before continuing to speak and walk. “There are five magical metals in the world. Gold is one, silver, another.” She paused, unsure if she should continue. “We dragons sleep on these metals because we can feed on the magic they carry.”

“That is unbelievable; I had no idea.”

“I am sure you don’t know this, but a dragon only grows so big naturally. We get bigger based on the amount of magic we consume. This is the reason some dragons collect huge hoards to feed on all that magic. The process is very slow, but if you have mountains of gold and silver to sleep on, it can be much faster.”

“Are you big for a dragon then?”

“Not really, most dragons are three to four times their growth size, with some even larger than that. I am about double my full growth size, which is about right for my age,” she said. “I had a fairly decent hoard, but I have not had it very long.”

“I do not want to know how you got it.”

“I will not lie to you, Gersius. You are not the first man to come to my valley.”

“I said I do not want to know.”

“It doesn't matter; the red took it all.” She frowned now, and her face almost seemed to darken. Then she reached down and pulled a small bag from her waist. “But this will help start a new one.”

He looked over and saw her holding the small bag of money he used to pay the farmer. He stopped and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Lilly, where did you get that?”

“It was in the farmhouse,” she said innocently.

“You stole the money I paid those kind people for feeding and sheltering us, for clothing you?”

“I didn’t steal it! It was sitting there on the table.”

“Lilly, that is stealing. It was not your money; it belonged to them.”

“But I wanted it,” she said as if that was all that needed saying.

Gersius took a moment to clear his head. He lost his temper with her before, and hurt her deeply. He reminded himself that she was a dragon and had done what seemed natural to her. She was also making significant progress in her mood and acceptance of her condition. She was opening up and sharing with him; she even laughed. He did not want to squash her feelings and set her back.

“Lilly, I need you to understand something.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he felt centered, he continued. “What you did is wrong by human standards.”

“But I need to start a new hoard,” she said with a strained voice.

“I did not know how important your hoard was to you until you told me just now, but you cannot start your hoard with the money I gave those people.” He was careful not to raise his voice or accuse her of being a thief. She was a dragon, and he was sure that to her taking it made perfect sense. “I need you to give me the money,” he said, taking his hand off her shoulder and holding it out.

She clutched the bag to her chest, her eyes wide and trembling.

“But I need it!” she pleaded.

He decided to try a new tactic. “Lilly, I want you to think about dinner, think about how good that food was, think about the little apple tarts you ate.” He saw he had her attention, so he continued. “Did you enjoy that food?”

“Yes, I liked the little apple tarts,” she said, still clutching the bag.

“Those people gave you those tarts as a gift of kindness. They gave you that outfit your wearing as a gift of kindness.” He could see she was thinking, her eyes starting to wander as the thoughts rolled through her head. “The farmer's wife washed your feet to show you kindness. Do you remember how she got down on her own hands and knees just to wash your feet?”

“Yes?” she said, her voice quaking.

“All of that was a gift to you to show you kindness. They gave it to you, and never asked for anything in return.” Her arms loosened a bit, and he saw her hands soften their death grip on the little bag of coins. “That bag of coins, that was a gift of kindness from me to them. I wanted to thank them for being so kind to you, so I gave them that,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing.

Lilly pulled the coin bag away from her chest and looked down at it. Her eyes were still trembling and wet in the corners now. “But, I need it,” she said softly.

“By taking it, you have undone my kindness. You have hurt the people who were kind to you.”

“How have I hurt them?” she asked, her voice sounding strained.

“Because I paid them back in kindness, and you took it away,” he said.

“I hurt them?” she asked again as if she couldn't understand it fully.

“Remember, they are not dragons. They do not see the world as you do, and I know you do not see it as they do. Trust me when I tell you, you hurt them.”

Lilly squeezed the bag and felt the coins inside. She could feel the magic radiating out, and the familiar touch made her hunger. She pulled it away from her chest and looked down at it. “But I need it,” she said softly under her breath as she understood what she needed to do. She held out the small bag with a trembling hand and put it into his. She took a moment to let the bag go as the tears rolled down.

“You have done the right thing,” he said.

Her eyes followed the bag as Gersius put it in his pack. Already she felt a sense of loss as her happiness drained away.

“We have to give it back to them,” he said. “I will tell them you thought I left it behind by mistake and picked it up for me; they will understand.”

“I need it,” she said again softly while staring at his pack.

They walked back in silence, and Lilly waited by the road as Gersius delivered the small bag back to the farm couple. He lingered in the doorway, and she saw him point at her while the couple looked from inside the house. She kept her face down and only glanced up when he returned.

“Were they mad at me?” she asked.

“No, they were not,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“Because they gave me this,” he said, holding up a small ball of cloth.

“What is it?” she asked, looking at it.

“It is for you.” He held out his hand, presenting her the bundle. “Go ahead, take it.”

Slowly she took the bundle of cloth and carefully unwrapped it. Inside were two golden apple tarts, warm to the touch. The air filled with the sweet aroma, and her mouth instantly became wet.

“Since we ate all the tarts last night, she baked some new ones this morning after we left,” he said as her eyes lit up. “Those are still warm. They should be extra special.”

“These are for me?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, they are both for you, enjoy them.”

They restarted their journey down the road as Lilly hummed to the taste of fresh apple tarts. Her smile and the light in her eyes, making the loss of time seem meaningless.

 

They traveled the road north, walking in the afternoon sun as they talked. Gersius spent a considerable amount of time teaching her about stealing and made her promise not to take anything that wasn't freely given.

“I promise I will not take anything,” she said after his lengthy sermon. They camped that night under a large tree with thick branches and were on the road again early in the morning. By late afternoon they crested a grassy hill, and before them was the town of Tots Creek.

The majority of the buildings were small wooden structures crowned by thatch roofs, but here and there, a building rose above the others. One building, in particular, stood out for its size and was easily seen from the hill. The streets were busy with people going about their business and chores, as Lilly looked in amazement.

“Look at all the rodents!” she said, pointing at them. “Will they want to wash my feet?”

“Probably not,” Gersius replied and went to lead the way.

“Humph,” she said with a toss of her head.

“What is it?”

“I am a dragon! These rodents should be grateful to wash my feet.”

A smile came to his face as he chuckled at the remark. Already Lilly was showing signs of acceptance and not immediately fearful of humans. He was grateful for the experience at the farm to help open her eyes and prayed there would be more like it ahead. He thought to warn her, though, worried that she might think all people were as kind as the farmers.

“Remember, most of these people are good and kind, but whenever there is a large number of them, there is bound to be several who are not. Do not be so quick to trust them. Be polite, but be careful.”

“Gersius, I can’t understand you. How am I going to know who I can or can't trust?” she said, sweeping her hand over the town.

“Just let your senses tell you, and do not go off with any of them, stay close to me.”

“I hardly planned to go wandering off,” she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

They entered the town and walked down the rutted street. People passed by disinterested, busy with there own lives, but here and there, a person took notice of Lilly.

“Ooh, what an unusual color oh hair on that one,” they heard one woman say.

“Is that girl's hair blue?” a man whispered to another loud enough to hear.

Gersius noticed the looks of men as their eyes followed Lilly, and it made him nervous. Small farming towns were not accustomed to exotic women, and local lords could be rather forward with a pretty girl. The local louts might be forward as well, but his presence should be more than enough to keep them at bay. Still, it was suspicious to see a priest in full armor this from the war. The local temple likely had several on duty but certainly not under full arms. Between he and Lilly, the town's people certainly had plenty to gossip about.

Lilly took no notice of it, instead staring at the buildings and the people with wonder. She was fascinated by what the women were wearing, particularly when they wore bright colors. He was forced to take her hand when she tried to follow a woman in a soft blue dress with white trims, reminding her to stay close.

They headed for the largest building in the town, a tired-looking structure with yellowing plaster walls, and sagging timbers. A few people loitered around the doorway as Gersius led her toward it.

“This is called an inn,” he said as they approached. “We will find food and shelter for the night inside.”

“There is more food?” Lilly asked her face suddenly brighter. She sniffed at the air as if trying to smell what the kitchen might be cooking.

Gersius looked at her with a smile on his face, “I thought you would be done eating for a few years?”

“I am in your rodent form,” she said with a stern voice and a toss of her head. “I require regular feeding.”

Gersius chuckled as they entered the door, and she gawked in wonder. The common room wasn't very large, but it still managed to fit a dozen tables. The floors were wood, and the walls were plaster, originally white, but long since yellowed with age and smoke. Round metal chandeliers, covered in half-melted candles, hung from the ceiling with ropes.

The room was crowded, but only because it was small. Two dozen people sat at tables or leaned against the walls, talking, and drinking. Gersius spied a pig roasting on a spit over the fire, and he could see other patrons had potatoes and bread on their plates. He noticed a few curious stares and a gesture or two to turn heads their way. He tried to avoid eye contact and quickly led Lilly across the room to an empty table by the window.

“Sit here,” he told her, taking her to a small table. She looked at the chair as if confused before looking about the room. He realized she was trying to work out how and was taking note of how other people sat. With a stiff motion, she sat down and smiled at her success before he continued. “I am going to go talk to the innkeeper,” he said, pointing to a large man behind the bar. “You stay here and do not get into trouble.”

“What trouble can I possibly get into?” she asked, irritated.

Gersius shook his head, mumbling about his luck as he turned and walked to the bar. The man behind the bar was slightly taller than himself and much broader. He had a bald head and a flat face with a red mustache and beard that ran down the sides. His chin was clean-shaven and bore a scar across the cleft. He wore a dirty gray shirt with a white apron that he used to wring his hands on as he worked.

“Are you the innkeeper?” Gersius asked as he approached the man.

“That I am, Barnabus is the name.”

“I would like to rent a room if you please. Do you have something with two beds?” Gersius asked.

“Indeed I do, be ten flins for the night,” the man said, leaning one arm on the counter. “Say, you wouldn't happen to be Gersius, would you?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“I am Gersius. How do you know my name?” he asked with a twitch of his brow.

“The other fellow was in here asking about you. Wanted to know if I had heard the name. Said you would be in priest's clothing or armor.”

Gersius felt hot in his armor, wishing he had never put it on. He dreaded to ask the next question, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. “What other fellow?”

“A man in armor like your own, called himself, Jessivel.”

“He was here?” Gersius asked in a firm tone his eyes now sternly fixed on Barnabus. “When?”

“Not two hours ago, said he was going up to the Abby of st Cluth. Said he had some business to take care of.”

Gersius nodded his head and looked over his shoulder at Lilly. She seemed to be lost in the wonders of the inn and not paying any attention to him. His stomach twisted as he tried to think of what to do next. If Jessivel was here looking for him, then Lilly was potentially in danger.

“You see that woman over there?” Gersius said, pointing to Lilly.

“Aye, I see her, pretty thing, odd color of hair.”

Gersius slid a bit of coin over the counter.

“Get her some of the best food you have, and get her a drink. Make sure she stays there; do not let her leave the inn until I get back.”

“Is there some trouble? I don't need any trouble in my inn.” the big man said, eyeing Gersius.

“I need to meet, brother Jessivel, alone, and I want to make sure she stays safe,” Gersius said, sliding a few more coins over the counter as he leaned over to whisper. “If Jessivel comes back and asks, I came here alone. Do not tell him about the girl.” Barnabus looked up with sweat on his brow as Gersius glowered at him and added three more coins to the pile.

“Alright, alright,” the big man said as he looked to an armed dark-skinned man in the corner. A snap of his fingers brought the man's attention to his. Barnabus made a silent gesture and pointed to his own eyes and then to Lilly. He made a second gesture pointing the floor, and the dark skin man nodded, before turning back to watch Lilly. “I set my best man to watch her. She won't come to no harm while you're out,” he said, leaning back off the counter.

Gersius was skeptical, but he had no choice. “I will be back in two hours or less,” he said, stepping away from the bar. He felt uncertain as he returned to Lilly and found her looking about the floor at her feet.

“Lilly,” he said, getting her attention.

“Gersius, a little black thing with a tail ran across the floor just a moment ago,” she said, still looking for it.

“That would be an actual rodent,” he said, still wondering if he was doing the right thing. “Lilly, I have to go meet somebody. I need you to stay here.”

She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes wide and searching his face. “You told me to stay near you. I should go with you.”

“You are safer here. The man who runs the place is going to bring you some food and something to drink. I will not be gone long. I need you to stay right here; do not try to leave the inn.”

“I don’t like this, Gersius. I don’t want you to leave me alone with all these roden… People.”

“I do not want to leave you alone either, but you will be safe here. I have to meet a member of my order who has come looking for me. I do not want them to know you are traveling with me.”

“Why not? You can tell them you have your dragon?” she said innocently.

Gersius shushed her and patted the air with his hands as if he could batter the words down.

“Lilly,” he said, leaning in close and whispering. “This man is looking for me specifically. That means something is wrong. I do not want to reveal your presence to him or anybody else until I am sure you are safe.”

Lilly stared at him with a smirk on her face. “Gersius, how much danger can I possibly be in? I could flatten every house in this village in minutes,” she said.

Gersius thought he was going to be sick as he visualized a raging dragon loose in Tots creek.

“Lilly, please, watch what you say. Nobody here needs to know what you are, or what you can do. We need to keep it that way, for now.”

She looked down at the table slowly, her shoulders sinking as she nodded. “I understand,” she said as her eyes began to wander.

“You will stay here, and not try to leave?” he asked.

“I will stay here and not try to leave,” she agreed.

Gersius let out a sigh of relief. At least one worry was off his chest. Now to face the one man, a priest of his order did not want to have looking for him.

“Thank you,” she said as he leaned back up.

“For what?”

“For asking me, and not commanding it,” she said while tracing a circle on the table with her finger.

Gersius smiled and tried to sound calm when he spoke. “I told you I would treat you with respect and honor what you truly are,” he said and turned toward the door.

Lilly sat there, looking around the room feeling very alone despite all the people around her. The large man Gersius spoke to glanced up at her now and then while he rubbed at a table with a scrap of cloth. A strange man with dark skin lurked in the corner across the room, his gaze fixed on her, making her uncomfortable.

“What do I have to be uncomfortable about? I could eat every person in this room if I wanted to,” she said to herself, trying to sound brave. She jumped in fright when a voice suddenly broke her musings.

“Here ya go love,” came a woman's voice as a barmaid set a plate of food before her. She placed a fork and knife next to it and put a large metal mug down on the table.

“You be sure and ask if you want more,” the woman said as she turned away.

Lilly looked down at the plate with delight. None of the foods were familiar, but they all looked wonderful. She could smell that the slightly pink object was meat of some kind. Next to it was what appeared to be a rock, but it was split open and full of white fluff. Butter melted over that fluff, adding to the sweet aroma that rose from the plate. There were tiny round green stones mixed with orange discs and yellow flakes piled beside it. It all came with a thick slice of bread, slathered in more butter that curled in white waves. The plate of food was very exciting but what fascinated her most was the mug.

She leaned over it and studied it. Inside was a golden liquid, and a thick white foam ringed the outer rim. She smelled it and recoiled back with a frown. It didn't smell like food, not that she had much exposure to human food. It smelled kind of like the bread, only heavier with a hint of sour. She carefully picked it up with both hands and lifted it to her lips. She was careful not to drown herself this time as she took a tiny little sip.

She put the mug down with a clunk and spit the fluid back in as she made a horrified groan. “That is foul!” she said out loud.

The barmaid walking past on her way to another table heard her. “Pity, it's the summer, the heat sours the flavor. It always tastes better when it's cold.”

Lilly watched her go by and looked back down at the mug. “It tastes better when it’s cold?” she said to herself. She glanced around the room and slowly bent over the top of the mug. With puckered lips, she blew carefully, just enough to evoke her breath. The mug frosted over as the liquid inside quickly chilled to ice cold.

With a smile, she lifted it and took another small sip. The woman was right. It did taste better cold. She put the mug back on the table and only then noticed that every eye was watching her.

“What?” she said.

********************

Gersius stormed down the streets of the small town, his mind full of worry. He didn't like that Jessivel was here asking for him by name. That could only mean a complication, something dire that would hinder his plans and put Lilly at risk.

His mind was plagued with doubt ever since finding Azurastra. He knew what he needed to do, but felt that he was doing her a disservice. His people needed to see the dragon standing by his side so he could evoke the image of the dragon knight. This would give him the strength he needed to win the war and save them all. Surely this was the right thing to do, and he was a good man for doing it. Somehow though, he could not shake the feeling he was harming Lilly. That by taking her to Calathen, he was leading her into danger, and perhaps more pain.

With Jessivel here, he could alert the brotherhood to Lilly’s presence, and tell them she was on her way to Calathen. It would give them hope and inspire new courage in their time of need. Yet, to even think of telling Jessivel made him fearful. In the back of his mind, he knew Lilly needed to remain a secret and kept hidden. Something wasn't right like a darkness had suddenly come over him. Perhaps his impending meeting would shed some light on the matter.

The Abby of saint Cluth was a small stone building on a hill just outside of town. It was dedicated to Astikar but had a little shrine area for several of the other divines. It was a quiet place surrounded by modest gardens and a few trees. The large front door was made of polished oak bound by iron, oiled to give it a dark color. It was wide open, allowing the warm summer air to flow freely and freshen the inner chambers. Nearby were two brothers walking in a garden. They wore the red robes of his order and had their hoods pulled up to conceal their faces. He watched for a moment as they walked by, not daring to look up and meet his gaze. It could only mean one thing, brother Jessivel was inside, and they wanted nothing to do with him.

Gersius walked in his metal boots, clinking on the stone floor. He didn't need to guess where to find brother Jessivel. He walked straight up the middle aisle to the man in polished plate armor kneeling before the shrine inside. His helmet was off and resting beside him on the floor. His long dark hair trailed down the back of his armor, and His face hidden in his bow. He had a red sash over his right shoulder that bore the emblem of a red eight-pointed star with an eye in the center. The symbol of a man-hunter, the closest thing the order had to bounty hunters.

“I didn't think I would be the one who found you,” Jessivel said without looking up.

“I did not think anybody would be looking to find me,” Gersius replied, kneeling beside the man and offering a silent prayer to Astikar.

“Oh, quite a few people are looking for you,” Jessivel responded. “The Father Abbot was quite clear; you were to be found.”

“The Father Abbot?” Gersius questioned. “What does he want with me?”

“What does the Father Abbot want with his greatest general during the bloodiest war the kingdoms have known in a thousand years?”

“You are not here for my military expertise. He could have sent a messenger to do that. They send you when they want somebody dragged back in chains.”

“Ha, I always did like you, Gersius. I appreciate how direct and to the point you can be,” Jessivel said. Gersius did not respond or look at the man as he gazed on the falcon shrine. “Then let me pay you the same courtesy and get to the heart of the matter,” he said, finally looking at Gersius. “He knows about the loss of you men.”

“Then Marcus made it back and delivered my report,” Gersius was relieved but surprised he had gotten back so quickly. How could he have managed that?

“Marcus?” Jessivel said, confused. “Marcus was found dead with the others.”

Now it was Gersius's turn to be confused. “Marcus was alive! I sent him back with a full report of what had happened, and an outline of how I intended to continue.”

“Marcus was found dead with the others,” Jessivel reiterated. “I have seen the report in full. It says you are the only one who is not accounted for.”

The sense of dread grew at this revelation. Marcus was dead? How? Maybe there were more bandersooks, and Marcus blundered into them just after they parted ways. It then occurred to him that if Marcus was dead, and the Father Abbot knew, somebody had come looking for them.

“Who?” Gersius asked concern rising in his stomach. “Who found them?”

“Brother Dellain found them. He and his men searched the area. They found all your men dead, there was no mention of a report,” Jessivel replied. “The Father Abbot has sent myself and several others to scour the eastern towns looking for you. He wants his message delivered to you promptly.”

“What is his message?” Gersius asked unsettled as his mind began to ponder why Dellain of all people had been sent to find him.

“You are to travel to Whiteford and present yourself for questioning,” Jessivel said with a satisfied smile.

“The Father Abbot will be in Whiteford?” Gersius asked concern rising in his heart.

“He will. He sent us on ahead to steer you that way.”

Gersius stopped to think this through. Whiteford was a significant city and population center, but the real goal was Calathen. It was in Calathen that Gersius needed to present Lilly, and take up the dragon banner to forge a new legend. The prophecy said the hero would walk through the golden gates of Calathen at the head of a dragon. It was also there he hoped to find the help for Lilly he desperately sought.

“Jessivel, can you take a letter to the Father Abbot? Tell him I am heading straight for Calathen with hope,” Gersius said in a rushed voice.

“The Father Abbot made it quite clear, he was going to be in Whiteford, and so were you,” Jessivel said in a forceful tone.

“Do not take that tone with me, Jessivel. I am a knight captain, I do not answer to you,” Gersius said.

“I am delivering the voice of the Father Abbot, who you do answer to, and he wants you to meet him in Whiteford.” Jessivel asserted.

Gersius nodded. He could not disobey a direct order from the Father Abbot. He would have to risk traveling a week out of the way and entering a major city with Lilly. At least the people of Calathen had a legend to expect a dragon. What would the people of Whiteford think when they saw her? “Your message is delivered, I will make haste to Whiteford,” Gersius said, bowing his head and getting up to leave.

“Gersius,” Jessivel said as he got up. “A word of warning, Dellain, is pressing the Father Abbot for your appointment as knight captain. Don't stay away too long, or you might find you have been replaced.”

Gersius flinched at those words. His mind was heavy with worry as he walked away. All the way back to the inn, he pondered what could have happened to Marcus? Was Dellain involved somehow? Why was he being ordered to Whiteford? He had his dragon, but for the legend to be fulfilled, they had to go to Calathen. He had to walk through the golden with Lilly right behind him. He needed to go to the palace hall and take up the dragon banner then call for the kingdoms to unite. More than anything else was the hope for Lilly, and the aid she might find there. He realized that trying to heal her wings was just as important to him as saving the old empire.

When he rounded the corner of the street to the inn, he immediately knew something was wrong. Crowds of people were gathered outside the building, and more were running to join the swelling mass.

“Lilly!” He growled to himself and broke into a run. He had to fight his way through the mass of people clustered outside the door, laughing and swaying with mugs of ale in hand. He could hear singing coming from inside, and the common room was alive with shouting and cheers.

Gersius shoved his way into the barroom in a panic, making his way across the crowded space. A sea of people blocked his vision as he strained to see what had happened to her.

“If that fool has let her be harmed, I will kill him and his worthless guard,” Gersius cursed as he finally broke through the wall of people.

There she sat quietly at the table, swaying slightly with the singing. The table was littered with silver and gold coins, and she had made little stacks of some of them. Gersius looked at her in stunned confusion, not sure what to think. A smile spread across her face when she noticed him, and she gave him a little wave.

“What have you done?” he asked, still searching for the cause of the trouble. “Where did you get all these coins?”

“From them,” she said, gesturing to the entire room with a sweep of her hand.

“I thought I told you no more stealing. You promised me, Lilly,” he said, trying to whisper loud enough to be heard over the noise. Her mouth fell open as her brows curled up.

“I didn’t steal anything,” she said indignantly.

“Then what do you call this?” he said, pointing to the pile of coins.

“Scuse me, love,” came the voice of a barmaid as she scooted past with a large tray covered with mugs of ale. She lowered the tray for Lilly who leaned over it and started to blow. A white mist spread over the mugs chilling their contents, and frosting the rims. The barmaid tossed a few coins on the pile and whisked the tray away saying, “Thank ya, sweety,” as she parted.

Gersius looked at Lilly, who returned to swaying with the singing with a pleased smile on her face. “Gather up your coins, we are going upstairs,” he said in a harsh tone.

“But I want to hear more of the noise you rodents make,” Lilly protested.

“Lilly!” He said louder than he intended causing her to jump at the sudden change in his demeanor. “I, I am sorry, please, Lilly, we need to go upstairs. Please, gather up your coins.”

“I can keep these?” she asked unsure.

“Yes, you can keep those,” Gersius said as he thought he was going to faint. The whole town must know by now, and be talking about the blue-haired girl who can chill ale by blowing on it. He looked back at Lilly, who was having trouble figuring out a way to carry so many coins.

“Hold up the hem of your dress and scoop them into it,” he told her to speed her along.

She tried his suggestion and was quickly clearing the table. “All done,” she said in a light tone.

“Good now, follow me. We need to get out of sight.” They didn't get more than ten paces before the innkeeper blocked them.

“Master Gersius!” he roared racing up to him. “You and your lady friend are welcome in my humble Inn any time you want. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

“We would very much like to be shown to our room Master Barnabus,” Gersius said, desperate to get going.

“Are you sure? The night is still young, plenty of paying customers who would love a cold ale.”

“I am quite sure, we need some time alone,” he said.

“Oh, oh, ooooh!” Barnabus said, eyeing Lilly. He bent over to whisper in Gersius's ear. “Be careful with those lips, son. She could chill a raging river.”

Gersius's mouth fell open in shock, “That is not what I meant!”

“Don't pay me no mind, none of my business what goes on behind closed doors. Right this way up the stairs,” Barnabus said, leading the way.

“That is not what I meant,” Gersius said again as Lilly walked past him following Barnabus.

They were shown to a small room with two beds, one on either side of the wall. A small table with a washbasin was against the far wall under the rooms only window. A single lantern hung from the ceiling already lit and giving the room a warm yellow color.

Gersius thanked the man and shut the door behind him firmly latching the lock. He stood there leaning against the door using it for support as his mind tried to gather up his thoughts. Lilly walked over to the bed on the left and dumped her pile of coins on top.

“So these are the other beds you were talking about?” she asked as she poked at the covers.

“Lilly,” he said, trying to get her attention.

“Look at how much I have!” she said excitedly, kneeling beside the bed and sweeping the pile of coins with her hands.

“Lilly, I,”

“It’s nothing like my treasure hoard, but it is a good start.”

“Lilly, please!” he said, shouting again.

She looked up at him with a start. His face was troubled and a little pale. He looked like the door was the only thing holding him up as he struggled to speak.

“Are you alright?” she asked her eyes large and fixed on him.

“Lilly, what you were doing downstairs.” He stepped away from the door while he thought of the right words. “Lilly, that was very foolish.”

“But look at all the coins,” she insisted. “I didn’t have to steal them. The people gave them to me.”

“No, Lilly, I understand you did not steal them, you did that fine, but, Lilly, no human can blow on mugs, and freeze them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lilly, what you were doing, nobody can do. That means people will be asking questions, wanting to know how you were doing that,” he said, struggling not to yell at her.

“I am a dragon,” she said innocently.

“I understand that. I thought I made this point clear before I left. I know you are a dragon, but nobody else can know,” he said, coming over and squatting down to look her in the eyes. “Not yet.”

“I don’t understand, you want to be seen with a dragon to save your people, but you do not want people to know I am a dragon.” She looked up at him lost. “How can you have it both ways?”

Gersius saw the logic she was following and took a moment to think of a response.

“Lilly, I want to keep you a secret for a little while. When the time comes for them to see you, I want them to see Azurastra. I want them to see the real you, in your blue scales, and all your glory. I do not want them to know that this human form is the dragon. Remember, Lilly, people do not know dragons can change form. So I need you to be Lilly, the human, and not Azurastra the dragon until I say so.”

“I told you, I don't like you calling me by my real name,” she said, looking away from him.

“I am only trying to separate the two forms so you understand that you cannot let people know that you are one and the same.”

“Why not?” she shouted at him. “Is this not what you wanted?”

“I want to get you safely to Calathen. I want to reveal you there, where I know people will be glad to see you.” Gersius ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Here in a small farming town hundreds of miles away from Calathen people are liable to run in panic, or take up arms if they find out you are a dragon.”

“Those people down there didn't care!” she said, throwing her hand in the air. “They were giving me gold and silver!”

“Lilly, please! I need you to act like a human while you are in human form. You can not do anything only a dragon could do,” he said, standing up and walking to get some breathing room.

“But I'm not human. I may look it, but I'm not,” she said, folding her arms over her chest in anger. “Everything I do is wrong. I can’t so much as breath without it being wrong.”

Gersius spun around and bent down at her. “If ice and frost are going to come out of your mouth when you do, then no, you can not.”

“I told you I didn't understand your ways, and you said you would guide me. Maybe it would be better if you commanded me and took away my free will. Then at least it wouldn't be my fault when something went wrong,” she said, standing up to challenge him.

Gersius wanted to lash back at her, but he bit his tongue. He could feel his emotions getting the better of him. More so, he could feel Lilly. The bind was somehow sharing her mood with him. He could feel anger and confusion as a sort of faint pressure that dug at him. He considered that and wisely chose not to respond, for fear he would say something hurtful.

“Just get me to Calathen so we can end this charade,” Lilly said, turning away. “I am sick of trying to pretend I am one of you.”

“We are going to the city of Whiteford first,” Gersius said, his voice trailing off.

“What?” Lilly said as she turned around. “You said we needed to go to Calathen.”

“I went to meet with a brother of my order. He passed on a message from the Father Abbot. I am to meet him at Whiteford.”

“Why?” she demanded to know.

“I do not know why, and I do not like it, but duty demands I obey. I cannot disobey a direct command from the Father Abbot.”

“You told me time was running out! That we needed to get to Calathen as fast as possible! Now you’re telling me we are going to this other place first?” She paused a moment to think. “Where is this, Whiteford?”

“About a week southwest of where we are now,” Gersius said, walking to the empty bed and sitting down.

“A week! So we have to turn around and march a full week away from our destination. I have to languish in this ridiculous form while you yell at me for making mistakes?”

“I am sorry, Lilly. I cannot refuse an order,” he said, looking down at the floor.

Lilly didn't respond; she turned back to her bed and looked down at her coins. She swatted them in frustration, scattering some around the room and crawled into bed, her back to him.

He decided the best thing to do was to let her sleep and peeled his armor off before climbing into the other bed. He tried in vain to sleep for hours as worries plagued his mind, and a pressing weight crushed his shoulders. He needed to get Lilly safely to Calathen, that was his only objective, but he could not disobey a direct order. The rattle of coins made him look to Lilly. She curled into a ball atop her little pile, clutching them to her chest. She was right, she might look human, but she would always be a dragon.

 

Gersius awoke to the sound of Lilly searching the room on hands and knees for coins. She glared at him with narrow eyes when he finally moved, anger still apparent on her face. He did his best to avoid that gaze, instead, focusing on getting ready for the day. He strapped his armor to his pack in the hopes he would not need it today. Most of the morning would be spent in the village after all, and he would enjoy having it off for a bit.

Lilly was his next task. It took some convincing to get her to put the coins in a bag in his pack. It made her crazy not to be allowed to carry them and watched with a shattered look in her eyes as if he was taking them away forever. He made a promise to return them that very day if she would let him carry them now. She relented but was upset about the whole thing, reminding him that she needed a new hoard.

He decided to try and cheer her up with food and stopped to have breakfast. He tipped the innkeeper to get Lilly a little extra, and her plate arrived piled high with fat sausages and fried eggs. She devoured the eggs and sausages with a pleased hum, her gaze finally softening. When a drink arrived, she went to blow on it but caught Gersius's gaze, telling her no. She set it down and looked away as if disinterested and never touched it again. He hated to take such a simple pleasure from her, but it wasn’t safe to use such gifts. If word reached the wrong ears, the road could grow significantly more dangerous.

After breakfast, he took her down the street into the merchant square. The morning air was cool, and the streets relatively quiet. Lilly watched a man driving a herd of pigs with curiosity, then jumped back from a barking dog. It wasn't until they were well down the street that she looked around and turned to him.

“I thought we needed to go south,” she said, finally breaking the long silence between them.

“We do, but we have a few stops to make first,” he responded, not looking at her.

“So, this is going to take even longer?” she said, coming to a halt with a stomp of her foot.

He turned to see her face wearing a frown that made her look like a pouting child. With a hand through his hair, he stepped closer and spoke in a soft voice.

“This is to help you on the journey,” he insisted.

“Help me?” she replied in confusion.

He waved her forward and took the lead, taking her to a building with an open doorway and sign that looked like a foot. Inside were shoes, and boots, and leather objects of all kinds. Lilly poked at the things while Gersius talked to the two men behind the counter. He tried his best to watch her as she explored the shop full of new experiences. Lilly played with some of the objects on display, running her hand over leather's various textures. She smelled many of them, lifting items to her nose to get a good taste of their scent. She went to chew on a belt, but he snapped his fingers, shaking his head when she looked over. When he returned to her side, she was full of questions.

“What are we doing here?” she asked while playing with a long strap of leather.

“We are both getting a good pair of boots, and I am getting you your own pack.”

“A pack?” she asked.

“Like mine but a little smaller,” he said, turning his shoulder so she could see it. “You do not need to carry a full suit of armor.”

“Does that mean I can carry my coins?” she asked with bright eyes.

Gersius knew that question was coming and nodded. “Yes, you can carry your coins.” She smiled and went back to playing with the leather, and he let her be.

The men returned with rulers, paper, bags, boots, belts, buckles, and all manner of things Lilly had no concept of. She tried on dozens of boots, swatting at hands when they tried to help her get them on. Gersius had to teach her how they worked and then had to teach her left from right. She asked strange questions as the two men from the shop exchanged glances of concern.

Eventually, he narrowed the selection down to three pairs, the only three in the shop that fit her. He decided to let her choose the one she liked most and saw the surprise in her eyes. She picked a black pair of soft boots that ran up her legs practically to her knees. They laced up the side, and the tops could be folded, making them shorter.

Her pack was also a soft leather, but brown with two firm straps to wear over the shoulder. It was smaller than his but had pouches and pockets all over. She took a few minutes to open them all, looking inside as if to find hidden treasure. To all this was added two belts, a pair of black gloves to match her boots, and a couple of small bags.

Gersius bought a pair of stout looking brown boots that went up to just above the middle of his calf and had secure metal buckles. These too could be rolled down, and he wore them rolled a few turns.

Lilly beamed with joy when he handed back the bag of coins. She quickly emptied it into her pack, tossing the other items on top. When at last they left the shop, she was smiling wide, walking in the comfort of proper boots.

“I really like them,” she said, her mood much improved.

“I knew you would, but we are not done yet.”

“Were not?”

Gersius smiled and shook his head. “Come on. You are not going to like this next stop until you see the final product.” He led further down the street into another shop that had lacy things in the window.

Three women in flowing dresses made of lace and billowing cloth in vibrant colors turned to greet them. Each woman wore a painted face with hair set in curls, braids, and twists, held in place with pins and combs. Lilly froze in the doorway as if startled and latched on to his arm to whisper.

“Gersius, what is wrong with their heads?”

He held in a chuckle and whispered back. “I will explain it to you later.” She nodded but took his hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

The walls of the dressmakers was full of shelves overflowing with spools of cloth. There was a rough wooden mannequin in the corner, vaguely shaped like a woman. Lilly was drawn to the bright colors and went to play with the material as he moved to greet the ladies.

“How can we help the fine sir and his lovely lady?” one of them said. She had jet black hair, pulled to one said, and turned into a tight curl in the center of which was a single red flower. She wore a white lace top with a soft green skirt that just barely missed the floor.

“This young lady needs a new outfit,” he said, gesturing to Lilly. “She has a long journey to make, so it must be rugged and cut high to not drag in the road.”

The woman nodded, and all three turned on Lilly, who looked up in confusion. Gersius took her pack as she was swept away by the ladies. Measurements were taken, fabrics chosen, and Lilly was made to stand for over an hour while they fussed over the design. She gave him a hateful glare as they worked, but he only smiled and waved.

“Will, the lovely lady, need any personal items?” they asked as Lilly stewed in her anger.

“Personal items?” Lilly questioned, but Gersius stepped in.

“Please, she will need several changes. Whatever you think will do her justice, and be sure to get her several pairs of stockings.”

“Oh, such a sweet one you are,” the shortest of the three ladies said as she ran off to dig through some shelves in the back. “We have just the thing for such a lucky woman.”

“Lucky?” Lilly said questioningly. “How am I lucky?”

Gersius saw what the woman was fussing about and smiled, turning his back to Lilly. The ladies began to unlace the front of Lilly's dress, and she swatted at their hands.

“What are you doing?” she asked them as they pulled the material loose.

“Oh, don't be shy, my lady, we will have you wrapped up in your new outfit in just a minute.”

He heard Lilly’s farm dress hit the floor and caught a reflection of her red face in a mirror. He could feel her anger and frustration over the bind as she thought hateful things about him. He smiled wider as she suffered through being dressed a second time since they met.

Lilly suddenly felt exposed as her farm dress fell to the floor. With a red face, she thought hateful things about Gersius for putting her through this a second time. The farmer's wife was bad enough, but now these strange women were all around her. She froze like before, unsure what to do as her anger boiled.

“Will you look at that?” one of them exclaimed, followed by gasps. “It runs all down her back.” Lilly felt uncomfortable as a finger slid down the length of her blue markings. She looked to Gersius with panic in her eyes as he glanced back and cleared his throat.

“Ladies,” he said in a firm voice. “We are in a hurry.”

They rushed into motion and went to work, scurrying off on various tasks. One of the women reached around from behind, and a leather band wrapped around Lilly’s chest. The woman pulled from behind on straps that went over her shoulders and around her back.

“She's certainly carrying a lot of weight on her shoulders,” the woman said as she tightened the cords.

Lilly's eyes went wide with shock as her chest suddenly compressed and then lifted. The material wrapped around her form, sliding under her chest and pulling them skyward. She looked down, uncertain what to do, and noticed they now firmly touched, pressed together by the leather harness. She leaned over a little to be sure she could still see her toes as the woman hurried off. She endured a dozen other indignities before the women were done with her. She was allowed to dress again, only to sit for hours while the three women cut and sowed, pausing to take additional measurements.

“I am going to kill you someday,” she said when she finally sat down beside him.

“I still have the better part of a year,” he said. “I will make the most of it.”

“You do that,” she muttered with a face locked in a menacing scowl, arms folded over her chest.

After what seemed to Lilly to be an eternity, the women returned to scoop her back up. Lilly had to stand in the center of the room again as they pulled her old dress open. Her eyes glanced at him as he looked away, giving her a modicum of privacy. The fire of her anger flared up, and she was about to bite one of the women when she saw it.

Lilly was wrapped in a garment with a soft leather top of dark green. Inside was a delicate white material that glided gently on her skin. The arms were longer and ran down to her elbows. It had shoulders this time, but the neckline dipped just a little lower. Her skirt was also green, trimmed with brown around the edges, and split slightly in the front. It ended a foot from the ground exposing her new boots and giving her plenty of room to walk.

She was belted with a wide leather strap that pulled her stomach in while the harness lifted her breasts. When the women finally parted, she looked up to see Gersius was staring at her.

“Lilly, you are beautiful.”

His words struck her as she considered how he used the word beautiful in the past. The sudden change in his demeanor made her uncomfortable, so she focused on her anger and stared back with thoughts of tearing him limb from limb. The tall woman with the dark hair spun her around, and Lilly found herself looking in a tall mirror.

“There now, doesn’t feel better?” the woman asked.

Lilly put her arms down, slowly turning to watch the outfit go by. She felt a strange sense of happiness at what she saw in the reflection. Her hands went across the material as she watched in the mirror, repeatedly turning to see more.

“I think the lady likes it,” the woman said with a pleased smile.

Lilly heard him respond, saying the dress was lovely, truly a masterpiece. She wasn't sure what that meant, but something in her stomach churned when he looked at her.

“We have a few personal things for you to take on your journey,” the woman said, handing some delicate items of clothing to Lilly.

“What are these?” she asked, stretching at a short pair of ruffled pants. When nobody replied, she looked up to see all three women looking at Gersius in confusion.

“I will explain it to her,” he said with a smile that did little to settle the women. He went to the counter to pay for the items, so Lilly returned to the mirror, turning to the side to admire the dress.

“Still want to kill me?” he asked as he approached.

“I might let you live,” she said with a low growl determined to be angry at him. Try as she might, she was too happy with the new dress and the fire was gone. He took the items the dressmakers gave her and put them in her pack, before helping slip it back on. His eyes met hers as she pulled the straps tight, and her stomach twisted with strange tingles.

With a smile, he gestured with his head to the door. “Come, we have more to do.” His smile only made the tingles worse, and she looked away, hoping it would help. She followed him into the street but was surprised he went further into town.

“Where are we going now?” she asked, confident it would lead to more humiliation.

“We have one last stop to make,” he said.

They walked to a large two-story building with the largest window she’d ever seen. She used it as another mirror, twisting to admire her outfit as he went inside. Gersius spoke to a man behind the counter, looking back regularly to make sure she was there. Lilly paused to squint and see the walls layered with swords. Weapons of every kind stood on racks and pegs on the wall. There were other items as well, small things that glinted and glittered. They hung from stands on the counter along the back wall. Gersius pointed to a couple of things and looked them over, but handed them back and pointed to something else.

She lost interest in what he was doing and went back to admiring her reflection in the window. He finally came out while she was turned entirely around, trying to see her backside.

“I see you found another mirror.”

“I wanted to see the other side,” she replied, stopping her inspection. “Why do you need another sword?” she asked, noticing the new one he was carrying.

“I do not need another sword,” he replied.

“Then why did you get one?” she asked as he stepped closer.

“This one is for you,” he said, holding it out. It had a black leather sheath and a handle wrapped in black cords. It was shorter and thinner than his, looking relatively small by comparison.

“What do I need a sword for?” she asked, looking up with her head tilted to the side.

“To defend yourself, of course,” he replied, still holding it out.

“To defend myself? With a sword?” She was genuinely puzzled by the strange gift and looked it over as if it would explain itself.

“That was the idea. Would you prefer a dagger?”

“I am a dragon. No dragon would use a sword,” she said in a mocking tone to point out his foolishness.

“I know a dragon that used a sword,” Gersius said with a serious tone.

Lilly wrinkled up her nose in disbelief and put her hands on her hips.

“What dragon do you know besides me, and why would they use a sword?”

“Here,” Gersius said, wrapping the sword's belt around her waist. “You wear it like this.” He strapped the buckle on her right hip, so the sword hung at her left. With a curious expression, she looked down, swinging her hips to make it sway.

“You do realize I am never going to use this, except maybe to throw at you,” she said mockingly.

“Well, if the sword does not impress you, maybe this will,” he said, pulling something out of a pouch at his waist.

Lilly's eyes went wide, fixating on the object that now dangled from Gersius's hand. It was a delicate silver chain in a long loop. At the bottom of the loop was a small blue stone wrapped in silver that sparkled in the sunlight. She could smell the sweet scent of the metal and felt a sudden need to have it.

“What is that?” she asked, reaching up as if to touch it.

“It is called a necklace,” he said.

“Necklace,” she repeated. “I know it is silver, but what is the blue thing?”

“That is a gemstone. It is a rare and precious thing. This particular stone is a sapphire.”

“Sapphire,” she repeated just like before.

“And it is yours,” he said. “You wear it like this.”

Lilly stood stunned as Gersius suddenly reached up over her head and wrapped the silver chain around her neck. She felt the cool touch of the metal on her skin, and the blue stone of the sapphire dangled in the bare space below her neckline.

“There,” he said. “Now, you are complete.”

Lilly looked down and then spun around to gaze in the window. She looked on in wonder and excitement, staring at the chain around her neck.

“I had no idea you could wear your treasures,” she whispered in happiness.

“You didn’t?” he asked.

Lilly shook her head. “My mother had things like this in her hoard, but I didn't know what they were. She has lots of these pretty rocks,” Lilly said as she touched the gem. “But, they were different colors.”

“This is just one of the ways a lady can wear her treasure,” Gersius said.

Lilly turned around in excitement and looked to his eyes. “There are more ways?”

“There are many more, but come, we need to get going,” he said, leading the way down the street.

“How many ways are there?” she implored while running to catch up.

He chuckled at her as she fell in beside him, making her feel silly. Despite his reaction, she asked again, desperate to know more about wearing treasures.

“Well, you can wear some on your fingers. That is called a ring.”

“A ring,” she said while looking at hand to help imagine it.

“You can wear some around your wrists. That is called a bracelet.”

“Bracelet,” she repeated.

“And if you are brave, you can wear them in your ears.”

Lilly paused in confusion, wrinkling her face. “In your ears?”

“Yes, in your ears,” he said, smiling.

“How will you hear anything?” she asked, trying to figure out how stuffing colored rocks in your ears would work.

She frowned as Gersius laughed, but he quickly quieted and began to look about. She could see he was looking at the people as they passed by. He smiled and took her hand, steering her toward a woman arguing with a man by a wagon full of small cages. Lilly was lost in the display of little birds inside them until Gersius whispered.

“Look at her ears.”

Lilly turned her head and stared at the woman's ears as they passed. She could only see one, but there were two small golden loops firmly embedded in the skin of her earlobe. She looked back at Gersius, her confusion complete.
“How did she get them in there?”

“She poked a hole through,” he said.

“Through her ear?” Lilly asked loudly, causing him to glance around and see if anyone heard.

“Yes, through her ear,” he said in a hushed tone. “It does not hurt much, or so I am told.”

Lilly looked at the woman for a moment and then turned back, lost in thought.

“I don't think I could do that,” she said and rubbed at an earlobe. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

Gersius smiled with a nod and looked at her with a soothing expression. “I believe every woman has said that at one time or another about something, and yet they always find the strength to do it.”

Lilly pondered that as they walked on, her stomach twisting at his words.

He was done with his little errands, and finally, they began their journey. She was surprised when they left the town going west. Gersius said it would take them to a straighter road that cut through the forest and make their journey easier. She could only take his word for it as they walked, the day slipping away.

They spoke little during the journey as the day grew long. She remembered she was mad at him but found it increasingly difficult to stay angry. He had bought her the new outfit, and the necklace after all. She found herself looking at it often, sometimes tapping it with a finger to make it sway. What a marvelous thing it was to wear your treasure, and she couldn't help but smile. Her eyes looked to him, and her stomach churned to see he was focused on other thoughts. Lilly felt a sort of rift between them, but was confused about why she even cared. All she wanted was to be free of the binding and yet feared it. She supposed it was the truth of her condition. Once free, she would limp back to the valley, a crippled dragon unable to fly or hunt. How long would she go on without a proper meal? Maybe she could find a sick deer unable to run away, or a freshly killed one, left by another predator? Without her wings, going into the cave was out of the question. The image of laying at the foot of the mountain as she slowly starved to death haunted her.

As the sun began to set, they made a camp beside the road in a bundle of trees. He handed her a rolled bundle and showed her how to unwrap it into a sort of bed. She smiled and quickly poured her coins on it before sweeping them into a small pile to sleep. A fire was made, and he settled in across from her, resting against a tree his eyes closed.

She watched him that night, silently sitting opposite the fire from her. He always seemed so stern and quiet as if his mind was thinking. She wondered if he’d told her the truth, or perhaps all the truth. How did she know for sure he needed to get to Calathen? How did she know for sure this man he met told him to go to Whiteford first? She knew so little of men, and prophecy was something dragons often ignored. What use is a prophecy to a dragon who will outlive ten generations of humans? Still, she felt deep down that he was honest, and that he really did want to get her safely to Calathen.

Looking at him made her wonder about the things she felt. Today had been full of surprises, not the least of which was the necklace. She looked down at the necklace, a blue teardrop encased in silver, worked to have a rough texture. She held it in her palm to study it closer, then looked across to him. The twisting in her stomach was back, and something was pushing at her. Perhaps it wasn't right to punish him for his little mistakes. After all, what did men know about dragons? Maybe she should make an effort to teach him about dragons like he did to teach her about humans. That thought carried her off to sleep, an image of Gersius tied to her by red light filling her dreams.

When morning came, he was gone. She sat up and looked around, startled for a moment before she heard the chanting. Carefully Lilly crept through the forest until she found him, kneeling in an early morning sunbeam. His arms were out, and his face thrown skyward, lost in his prayer. This position always made the muscles in his back bulge and showed the power of his frame. His voice was very different when he sang to his god. It was strong and clear, and it had a deep melodic power. She felt a sadness stirring in its tones as if he were singing for some tragic event.

Lilly wished she knew the language he was singing in so she could appreciate the words that sounded so powerful in his voice. She decided to sneak back to camp before he finished and sat on her pile of coins until he returned. When he finally did, he approached quietly, glancing at her to acknowledge that he had seen her.

“I heard you singing,” she said, looking at him for a moment. “The song you sing, it sounds beautiful, if that is the right word.” He walked to his pack to retrieve the shirt laying on top, a smile on his face.

“It is the right word,” he said as he began to dress.

“What do you sing about?” she asked him.

He cast his face down as he flapped his shirt, saying nothing until he straightened it.

“I sing words of praise and peace to Astikar God of Mercy,” he said, glancing at her. “I sing for blessing, for protection, for the courage to do what must be done.”

“Does your God answer you? Does he answer your songs?”

“Sometimes he does,” Gersius said, picking up his sword and belting it around his waist.

“What does he say?” she asked him.

“It is not so much what he says. If I pray for guidance, and I plan to make a poor decision, I will feel a sense of unease. If the path I choose to walk is a good one, I feel a sense of calm.”

“Did you pray for our trip to Whiteford?

“I did,” he said, still not looking at her.

“What did he say?”

Gersius straightened the sword and ran his hand across the hilt. There was a sudden heaviness to his brow, and his mouth curled ever so slightly down. He looked up as if casting his vision far away, the worry evident on his face.

“We need to get going.”

Gersius didn't know what to say. He prayed about the trip to Whiteford, and never before had he felt such a sense of foreboding and dread. It was like a voice screaming in his head to flee as a million wolves howled in the distance. He prayed about turning around and going to Calathen, but a sense of doom was there as well. Both choices were bad and would be full of danger, but the road to Whiteford led to the Father Abbot. If he could brave the danger getting there, surely his brothers could keep them safe.

They got back on the road and walked for the better part of the morning, pressing on into noon before she felt the courage to speak to him again.

“Why are your people at war?” she asked, casting him a sideways glance.

“We did not have a choice in the matter,” he answered. “We were attacked without warning.”

“Well, why are you being attacked then?”

“I wish I knew. The people we fight against live further west of the region we call Delvarium. To the west is a great expanse of plains and hills until you hit the serpentine river. They come from the region just beyond the river. It is a barren land with hardly any trees. The land is stony, and living there is hard. A sturdy, nomadic people live there. They cut a tough life out of the harsh land. They are strong and fierce, with deep traditions and family loyalties.”

She noted he seemed to be praising them for their ruggedness and strength. Taking great care to extol their virtues as if he admired them.

“These people we call the Doan, it is an old word for wild.”

“That’s not an old word,” Lilly interjected. “It’s a dragon word.”

“It is?” he asked, turning to look her in the eyes.

Lilly nodded with a gentle smile. “It means wild one or something wild, depending on how you use it.”

“I did not know that,” he said with a faraway look before continuing with a sigh. “They have raided the lands along the serpentine for years. There have been a dozen minor wars in the past hundred years. Several times they have come east of the serpentine, and each time they have been thrown back. Occasionally a warlord will arise among them and unite several tribes into a more significant force. These would drive deep into our lands, raiding, and pillaging, but they too were always thrown back.”

“So this has happened again? A warlord has led some of the tribes into your land?” she asked, feeling she understood.

“No,” he said, looking forlorn. “This is no warlord we face. It is as if the whole of the Doan lands have emptied. They march in numbers unheard of in a thousand years. They are divided into at least three main armies with two or three smaller forces harassing our sides.” Gersius seemed to pale as he continued, his voice sounding strained. “They use tactics like never before enhanced with siege engines and new weapons. They somehow control and drive Bandersooks into battles, using them as shock troops and terror weapons. Even their women fight, many using the power of weaves to twist magic into deadly attacks. Those that do not practice the weave throw spears instead, eager to shed our blood.”

“To what end do these people attack you?” she asked, confused as to why such a war was started.

“We do not know. Somebody is behind them, driving them forward.” He shook his head as if trying to work out the puzzle. “They are smarter, stronger, more organized, better equipped, and trained than ever before. Not since the war of the dragon empire has such an army been raised.”

She cast him a sideways glance at the name and made a mental note to ask about that later.

“So, why don't your twelve kingdoms combine like they did before, and march out to crush them?”

“It is not that simple. Because the opening attacks were so savage and swift, the kings of the provinces have panicked. They hold the best of their armies inside their lands to protect their holdings. All we get is a token force of their least useful troops. Not enough to go on the offensive when the enemy has so many formations. Unless they unite and free up the bulk of their armies, we cannot hope to win.”

Lilly could see the strain in his face as he recounted the circumstances of the war. He was deeply affected by what was going on and desperate to change the outcome.

“We battle priests have thrown everything we have into the fight to help support the local armies, lending our hand in combat, and healing. But for all our skill, we have only delayed the inevitable. Two armies have stopped advancing at the border keeps. The third is broken but reforming and will soon be ready to march again. One of the smaller groups has swung far to the south and is raiding border villages. We are not sure where the other ones are. They eluded our scouts and vanished into the north.”

“So, somebody has managed to unite the whole of the Doan, turn them into organized armies, and marched them on your people,” she summarized again.

“That is correct,” he replied.

“But your people won't do the same? They won't unify into a single army and fight back?”

“That is also correct.”

“That's why you need me. You're hoping to be the one who does it. You want to fulfill this prophecy, and be the one who unites them, and throws the combined might of all the kingdoms against the Doan.”

“Yes,” he said.

“To do this, you need me to go to Calathen, and you need to present me as your dragon to the people there.”

“I do,” he said, looking at her strangely. “I did explain all this to you just three days ago.”

“You told me you wanted to fulfill this prophecy and unite your people, but I still wasn't sure why it was so important. Yes, you told me about the war, that your people were dying, but I had no appreciation for the scale.” She paused in her words to think it out. “I suppose in a way I have trouble appreciating it as you do.”

“What do you mean?” he asked her.

“Your human lives don't matter to me as they do you. Even dragon lives wouldn't matter to me. If you were to tell me that a hundred dragons had already died in your war and that a hundred more might die soon, I wouldn't care.”

“Is it so difficult for you to feel empathy, to feel pity?”

“Gersius, just six days ago, I would have killed and eaten you if I found you in my valley. We would not be having this conversation.

Gersius thought about her words and became angry. He didn't blame her for being who she was, but he could not believe she felt nothing for others.

“Tell me something,” he said, his voice hard. “If I were to release you from the binding right now, would you kill me?” He watched her eyes flash suddenly, and she staggered a bit in her step before straightening out and walking normally. She didn't answer right away, looking around as if searching for the right thing to say.

“I don't know,” she said at last.

Now Gersius was mad, and he stopped to confront her.

“What about that little girl?” he asked. “The one with the dragon toy who said dragons were brave and your eyes were pretty. Could you eat her?”

“That isn't a fair question,” she argued.

“How is it not fair?” he retorted. “You are a dragon. What do you care for little girls?”

Her hands clenched into fists as she turned to meet his challenge. She lifted a single hand to point a finger in his face, her eyes trembling in rage. “Just a moment ago, you told me that you had explained this need for me three days ago. I seem to recall explaining to you how hard it was to be a dragon, and mingle with your kind!” she shouted back. “I told you I had misgiving about what I thought about your kind and wasn't sure how I felt about it anymore. I can also tell you this, if that little girl had walked into my valley six days ago, I would have ignored her unless I was hungry, or she tried to enter my cave. If she tried to enter it, I would have killed her without a second thought, and complained about how unsatisfying a meal she was.”

Gersius felt shocked at the pure emotionless void Lilly seemed to be, but then she continued her voice suddenly different and soft.

“But, if I was back in my valley a month from now, and I found her wandering in it. I would wonder how she had gotten there, and I would probably take her home.”

It was then he realized his mistake. He had lost his temper again just because she was a dragon and did not see the world as he did.

“I am sorry, Lilly. I lost my temper again,” he said to her lowering his head.

“I am sorry, too,” she said. “I am sorry I am a dragon when what you need is a pet.”

Gersius felt ashamed at her words as they dug deep into his heart.

“I suppose I am to blame for this,” he said at last.

“I agree,” she said, not bothering to look at him.

“Lilly, when I see you as you are now, I can't help but see a human woman and expect you to feel the way they would. Sometimes, when you make mistakes understanding our ways, they almost seem playful, innocent. It causes me to forget that you are a dragon. I forget that you do not see yourself as I see you.” He looked at her to study her reaction. “You would not kill me if I released you,” he said, smiling.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because of that night in the farmer's barn. Despite being a dragon, and being fresh from the pain of your ordeal, you came to me, your captor, and put your arms around me. You tried to comfort me and show me pity,” he said. He saw her blush as she remembered that night. “You are not as heartless as you seem. There is a spark of genuine compassion there.”

He saw her fidget with her hands squeezing one hand with the other as she worked on his words. Before she could reply, a scream filled the air and drew them both out of their contemplation.

“What is that?” Lilly asked, looking to him for answers.

“Somebody needs help,” he said, eyes scanning the countryside. He spied a farm off the road hidden away in a stand of trees and pointed. “There!” he said. “We must see if we can help.” He ran for the house, leaving her in confusion on the road.

“We?” she said to herself before running after him.

Gersius dropped his pack leaving his armor behind. There were two more screams, sounding of desperation, proving he didn't have time to don it. He broke through the trees into a yard bordering a barn and house. There were gruff voices from around the corner as two men walked from behind the house into the barn. As Gersius moved closer, he heard a woman's voice.

“Please, don't hurt me!” she pleaded.

Gersius crept slowly along the wall of the house until he could see around the corner. A man in simple clothes lay face down in a pool of blood. Three others in ragged leathers and dirty clothes stood around a woman sitting on the ground. She clutched at the hem of a torn dress, desperate to cover herself as tears poured down her face. The three men smiled and laughed, enjoying her tears as she trembled at their feet.

“I don't think she likes the idea of being hospitable,” one of them said.

“It's bad manners it is,” said the one closest to Gersius.

Gersius watched as the man in the center squatted down to look the woman in the face. He had a large black beard, and his eyes glowed with murder.

“You know what happens to a woman who doesn't want to share?” he said, glowering at her.

“Usually, she gets rescued by a knight,” Gersius answered. The man looked confused for a moment as Gersius charged in.

“We got ourselves a hero,” the man closest to Gersius said. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a dagger at Gersius, while drawing a second.

Gersius saw the motion and read the attack even before the blade was free. His arm came up as he sang a word of power, orange light flowing around his hand. A ghostly circle appeared over his arm, highlighted by a red star as the knife harmlessly struck the barrier.

“It's a bloody priest!” the furthest man shouted as Gersius reached the first. The first man drew a second knife to meet his charge, but Gersius didn't even slow down. A sword flashed, and the man toppled to the ground. The second and third man met his charge together, one with a sword, the other a small ax. Gersius danced with them for only a few moments before the axman was dead.

The swordsman put up a better fight, catching the first two of Gersius swings, but also a kick to the stomach. He stumbled back, failing to block the next attack as Gersius pressed in and made him pay.

Lilly broke through the tree line to see Gersius running in. She still had no idea what they were doing, but Gersius was attacking three humans by the house. She took a step toward him when a voice called out, turning her gaze.

“Well, what have we here?”

Lilly turned and saw a man coming around the front of the house. He was tall and broad, wearing a brown, heavily stained coat. His face was covered in hair, and his eyes looked hungry and violent. In his hand was a long stick with a metal wedge at one end.

“I didn't know these fools had a daughter,” he said while approaching her. “I guess the old woman won't have to do all the work herself,” he added as he reached Lilly.

Lilly stood there, unsure what this man was saying. He had a strange glare in his eyes that looked down to fixate on her chest, smiling with a grin of haphazard teeth.

“A good healthy daughter, you’re going to work tonight,” he muttered into her face.

“Get away from me, human!” she said, waving her hand as she smelled his breath.

He reached up and caught her arm. “Is that any way to talk to your new lover?” he said, jerking her arm away. “Oh, what's this?” he said when he saw the blue gemstone over her chest. “Must be my lucky day.” He dropped the ax and reached to grab hold of the necklace, but Lilly wrapped her other hand around it first.

“This is mine!” she said in a deep voice.

“Not anymore, it isn't,” he said, moving right up to her face. “The necklace is mine, and so are you!”

He was threatening, but nobody was taking Gersius's gift from her. She smiled back and took a deep breath as he reached for the necklace again.

Gersius heard a cry of alarm from behind and quickly reached out a hand, a prayer on his lips. Orange light gathered in his palm, forming into a glowing hammer as he turned about. The two men from the barn were running to aid their comrades as Gersius threw his arm in an arc, loosing the hammer. It caught one of the men in the chest, cracking ribs with a sickening impact that threw him back. He glanced to the right when a howl of pain caught his ear. He saw a man fall at Lilly's feet, twitching hands clutching at a frozen face. She looked down on him with a smile and casually stepped over his body as he died.

The last man lunged at Gersius with a tarnished sword. Gersius twirled away from the attack, his focus tempering the anger he had for these men. As the man tried to recover from the wild swing Gersius punched him square in the face with his sword hand, shattering the man's nose. He staggered back, the sword dropping from his hand as he clutched his bloody face.

Gersius followed in, grabbing the man with one hand around the throat. A prayer of power and his muscles surged with divine power. He hoisted the man from the ground with holy strength and looked him in the eyes.

“Please, mercy!” the man cried, terror in his eyes.

“Oh, you want mercy?” Gersius said, never breaking eye contact. “How fortunate for you, I worship the God of Mercy.” The man tried to smile with blood-soaked teeth as Gersius twisted his hand and broke his neck. Another sound turned him to the right to look into Lilly’s confused eyes.

“Why are we killing these rodents?” she asked as Gersius dropped the lifeless man.

“Jacob, my poor Jacob,” came a sobbing voice reminding him that there were more important matters.

Gersius turned to the woman who crawled across the ground to the man lying in a pool of blood. He rushed to the woman's side and quickly turned the man over, revealing the terrible wound. His chest was deeply punctured, the blood flow ebbing as he bled out, but his hand still twitched with life.

“Jacob!” the woman screamed to see his pale, lifeless face.

Gersius dropped his sword and put both hands on the man's chest. His voice came out clear and strong as he chanted, channeling the healing energies of Astikar. Golden light shone from under his hands, and the man twitched as healing energies flowed. Gersius looked as if he was straining until the man gasped loudly and let out a low moan. Slowly he took his hands away, the skin still bloody, but the wound was gone.

“Jacob!” the woman cried again, cradling his head in her arms, “Bless the divines!” she called as she rocked him in her arms.

Gersius knelt beside her as the man began to stir. “He was very near death. He will be weak for a day or two, but will recover fully.”

The woman looked up, her eyes red with tears. “Thank you!” she cried.

“Come, let me help you get him inside,” Gersius said, before gently lifting the groggy man and carrying him away.


Lilly followed, watching as he helped the woman get the bloody man into a bed. She didn't understand why he was doing this, or why those men had to die. She watched as Gersius carefully laid the man down as the woman hurriedly began to wipe the blood off his chest with a cloth.

“Thank you, please, thank you,” the woman said over and over again.

Gersius comforted the woman and left her to hold her husband's hand. He turned to Lilly, who was watching from the doorway a strange expression on her face. He passed her in the doorway and motioned for her to follow.

“We need to drag the bodies away from the house. They can bury them when the man is stronger, hopefully before they start to rot,” he told her as they walked into the yard.

“Why were these men attacking other humans?” she asked, looking down at one of them.

“These men are bandits,” Gersius said. “They prey on the weak, and steal what they want.”

“They are thieves?” she said, squatting down to look at one more closely. “But I was a thief?”

“You mean with the coins from the farmhouse?” he asked, coming to stand before her.

“Yes, you didn't kill me.”

“There is a huge difference between what you did and what these men were trying to do. You took those coins because you did not understand. When I explained it, not only did you give them back, but you were concerned they would be mad. You are not at all like these men.”

Lilly looked down in though his words. “Maybe they didn’t understand?”

“These men knew exactly what they are doing and did not care. They came here with the same motive that the red dragon that came to your valley had. They came here to take what they wanted and were going to do to that woman what he did to you.”

Lilly's face darkened at the comparison turning her expression sour. “I am glad they are dead,” she said.

“Do not let such things harden your heart, Lilly. We were here to help, thank the divines.”

“Why did we help?” she asked as she stood up.

“Because these people needed help, and we could help them.”

“But you need to follow your orders and get to Whiteford,” she pointed out.

“Sometimes, to do the right and honorable thing, you must disobey an order.” He paused to make sure she had understood. “Now, I want to drag these men away. I do not want them rotting and causing disease in that poor woman's yard.”

Lilly looked down at all the bodies and tilted her head.

“If you want to get rid of them, I could always eat them,” she said, kicking one of the dead men.

“Lilly!” Gersius said, truly shocked.

“What?” she looked up at him with innocent eyes. “You do want to get rid of them, don’t you?”

Gersius looked down at the bodies and back at Lilly. “Are you serious?”

************​

Gersius waited by the road sitting on his pack while Lilly dressed, not at all sure he had done the right thing. They had removed the bodies down the hill, and she ate through them with terrible speed. Now she was done and happy as could be.

“Thank you for reminding me to get undressed first,” she said while struggled with her top.

“You are welcome,” Gersius replied, trying not to look.

“Why did we have to drag them so far away if I was going to eat them?” she asked while fighting to tie the laces behind her back.

“I did not want the poor woman to look out her window and see a dragon devouring a pile of dead men in her yard,” he said, looking over as she flailed with the straps. “Do you need help with that?”

“How do you humans tie these behind your backs?” she groaned, turning the straps to him.

“Here, let me do it,” he said, walking to the tree she was standing behind. He pulled the straps tight getting an “oof!” out of Lilly and tied them firmly.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly and reached for her dress. He walked back to his pack as she straightened her skirt and went for her boots. She walked to him to lace them for her as she held up her hands. “Some of those men had more coins on them,” she said, poking at a pile in her hand. “My horde gets bigger every day!”

“I am glad you are finding eating people to be so profitable,” Gersius said, trying not to think about it.

“How do you think I got my original horde?” she said as if it was obvious.

“I told you, I do not want to know how you got your hoard. It is bad enough I know how you are collecting this one.” He heard the coins clatter into her pack, and she lifted it to her shoulder.

“I am ready to continue,” she said, a smile on her face.

“I hope you do not need to sleep for a few months now,” he joked, getting to his feet and picking up his pack.

“Nope, but I might not be hungry for a few days.”

“By the divines!” he groaned as they started down the road.

 

The room was tiny, barely a cell, but it was the only place he could use as an office. The only remarkable feature was the worn wooden desk and a single high back chair that rocked on a broken leg. He sat in that undignified little cell to ensure all was ready for the Father Abbot's arrival and avoid any undue complications.

“The work needs to be done before he gets here,” Dellain said in a dull voice while tapping his fingers in irritation, wondering why he was chosen for this task.

Before him stood two men in the most contrasting outfits, one was tall and wore a simple black coat over olive green pants. He had a strange, almost gray color to his skin and was completely bald. His companion was a full head shorter with long blond hair that splayed about his shoulders. He dressed in a fancy colorful robe made of shades of reds and oranges. It draped over his form as if it was a size too large, making him appear foolish. Both men looked at one another and then to Dellain, their faces devoid of acknowledgment.

“The shaping will take some time, but so long as the smiths can keep up, it should be ready,” the red-clothed man said in a smooth voice.

Dellain frowned and ceased his tapping on the old worn desk. Something about that voice irritated him. It lacked any measure of respect or simple courtesy. It was the voice of a man who felt he had the upper hand and was openly mocking him. The fool had better learn you don't mock a raven guard, especially the order's captain-general. Still, he needed this task done, and these were the men to see it through. He leaned back to scratch at his chin before answering, his eyes showing his displeasure. “Most of the molds are already done. I am told they will be able to pour by morning.”

“Then we will start the shaping in the morning and etch the runes in as they cool. That should speed things up and ensure they are ready in time,” the tall gray-skinned man said with an arrogant voice more suited to a king's hall.

“And how long will it take?” Dellain asked as his gaze shifted to the gray man. He watched as the brows on the man's weathered face creased as if in annoyance. He wasn't accustomed to answering questions or speaking, for that matter. He let his fool companion in red do most of the talking, but when he did open his mouth, it was full of disdain, as if this task were beneath him. If this task failed, there would be nothing beneath him as he hung from a rope Dellain mused.

“The shaping is not complex. Any shaper with a year of training could do it in a few hours,” the red man replied when his taller companion refused to answer.

“Good, the Father Abbot, will be pleased,” Dellain replied with a slow sigh, the weariness of talking to these men taking its toll.

“I do wonder how you managed to acquire the blood?” the red-robed man asked, his face taking on a slight smile.

Dellain’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the man whose smug expression only deepened. Answering their questions was not part of his mission, and he honestly didn’t know. The Father Abbot hadn't told him where the dragon's blood came from, and he knew better than to ask. He accepted the jar with a simple nod and went on his way, leaving spies behind to search for the information. The Father Abbot was skilled at hiding his secrets, and he doubted his spies would learn anything, but such a strange gift had to come from somewhere.

“You are being paid to enchant the items, not ask questions,” Dellain said with some measure of victory at being able to deny them.

“There Is the matter of the silver you promised us,” the tall man said, looking down his nose at Dellain.

The tone of that voice indicated he believed Dellain wasn't trustworthy enough to pay. For a brief moment, he entertained drawing his sword but quickly put the idea away. The mission was more important, and there would be time to deal with their arrogance later. His gaze shifted between the two men who represented the local shapers guild. Were it not for their gift in binding the weave's magic to items, they would not be given such leeway of speech. Still, even if they were polite and cordial, he didn't care for shapers. They always seemed arrogant, flaunting their skill with the weave and what they could create. They openly spoke as if they were great powers, and many sold their services, rising to nobility due to vast wealth. It was those careless words that drew his ire. Too many of the things they said tread on the toes of the gods. While it was true, they could do many things a priest could not; they were not at liberty to compare themselves to the divine. Unlike the gods, they would die one day and be forgotten, a fate that could not come soon enough. Their self-serving nature was why they were in this very room, highlighting what Dellain disliked about them the most. They could be bought for a modest price, wealth the only motivation. They had no dedication or loyalty to anybody but themselves and carried their price openly.

In Dellain's eyes, it was far nobler to dedicate one's life to the service of a divine and know your place. Following that glorious guiding light was the path to true power and purpose. Though, he supposed, even a priest's dedication could be bought sometimes.

“The payment?” the gray man reiterated, his voice growing impatient.

Dellain wanted to punch him squarely in the face but turned to the silent figure standing motionless in the corner. Mathius was his second in command and one of the most dedicated men in all the raven guard. He liked to keep Mathius close at hand when dealing with delicate matters to provide a second point of view. It also helped to have an armed and armored man nearby to keep fools like these from overstepping their bounds. “Pay them,” he said with a tip of his head toward the two shapers.

Mathius silently nodded and reached into a pack at his feet. He pulled out a sizable sack of coins, tossing it on the desk with a loud clink as the metal inside shifted. Dellain leaned over and slid the bag of coins across his desk to the waiting men.

“You have three days until he arrives,” Dellain said as both men reached for the sack.

“We assure you, Brother Dellain; all will be ready,” the red man said as they collected the bag. With their payment in hand, they had no further interest in talking and left the small office without a word.

Dellain's eyes reeked of suspicion as he watched them go. Their necessity in this project only proved one disturbing point. The Father Abbot was worried Gersius might actually succeed in his quest to find a dragon. Why else would he be sent to Whiteford to oversee this fool's errand?

Surely Gersius was dead, and this was a waste of time and money. The report he pried from Marcus's hand after he killed him stated Gersius was going on alone. Not even mighty Gersius could take a dragon alone in single combat. By now, Gersius was a well-digested meal for a slumbering dragon deep in a cave, yet the Father Abbot didn't think so. It was odd how the old man was certain Gersius was still alive. He seemed to show a strange intuition for Gersius and his exploits.

This time the man was wrong, and Gersius was finally dead; there could be no other outcome. If the Father Abbot wanted to waste time and resources, that was his business. Dellain was more concerned about the second letter found hidden in Marcus's boot. It was addressed to Tavis and Ayawa, two very close friends of Gersius and a source of endless trouble for his spies. Unfortunately, it was in code, and he hadn't as yet broken it. What was really going on was likely hidden in that code, and he wanted the answer. Fortunately, Tavis and Ayawa were in the employ of the forces of Astikar as scouts. If he couldn't break the code, he would have them do it, provided they could figure out where the two had gone.

“Tull!” he shouted, his voice too loud for the tiny chamber. In moments it was answered by a tall, sturdy man in black armor, who entered the room and proceeded to bow.

“Yes, my lord,” he said, nodding his head.

“Any word about our code breakers?” he asked, irritated.

“Nothing new since the last report,” Tull said in a smooth voice. “Both Tavis and Ayawa are missing, and nobody seems to know where they went.”

Dellain clenched his hand into a fist as his irritation grew. Gersius was an excellent leader, a fierce fighter, and a master tactician known for deep thinking. All of these qualities made him a dangerous man who was not to be trifled with. Thankfully he was dead, but he'd made plans with the two before leaving, and they had instructions to scatter if they hadn't heard from him. That deadline was passed, and the two had vanished into the night, taking their secrets with them.

“What were you planning, Gersius?” he mused out loud before realizing Tull was still standing there.

“You are dismissed,” he said with a wave of his hand. The man bowed and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Dellain descended into dark thoughts as the possibilities began to play through his mind. Could the Father Abbot be right?

“How long do we intend to wait here for his ghost to show up?” said Mathius, echoing Dellain’s own beliefs that Gersius was dead.

“Patience, Mathius, a game of chess is being played. We must wait for our opponent to finish his move,” Dellain replied.

“A game of chess is being played alright, but are you sure your the one moving the pieces?”

Dellain stared off, his eyes cold, and brow furrowed in thought. He had to admit he wasn't sure.

*****​

The morning air was cold, carrying with it the dampness left behind by the night. Gray clouds covered the sky as a gentle wind licked at the branches of the trees. They reached the town of Westbridge the day before and spent another night in a proper bed. Lilly remarked that these were more comfortable but slept on her coins nonetheless.

He tried to brighten her mood by buying her a hot meal, but Lilly still wasn't hungry. She was thirsty, however, and asked if she could have a drink. When an ale was brought to the table, she tasted it and set it down, a sour expression on her face. He knew what she wanted to do and moved her to another table, sitting her in the corner as he blocked her from view. A smile lit her face as he encouraged her to blow on the drink to make her happy. It worked, and that beautiful smile lasted the rest of the night as she sipped three cold ales while he ate. Gersius found himself staring at this woman, who was a dragon, struggling to see the beast inside. To his eyes, she was a curious and sometimes playful woman with the understanding of a child, yet he knew what lurked inside.

They left early the next morning, stopping only to purchase enough dry food to see them a week on the road. They set out going south on the road that would take them directly to Whiteford. A full day's travel later, and they camped in the trees beside the dusty track that was their road.
.
Gersius awoke to find Lilly curled in a ball atop her pile of coins. He smiled at the very dragon-like display that reminded him of who she really was. Despite it, he only saw the woman sleeping in gentle peace and crept away to begin his morning prayers.

He wandered a safe distance away, finding a clear spot in the trees to kneel before his god. He prayed as he always did, offering up praise before asking for protection, blessing, and guidance. It was during his request for guidance that his chanting turned to Whiteford. A deep sense of dread crawled into his heart, nearly breaking his concentration. It was always the same; every prayer about this destination was now a dire warning. Something was wrong with Whiteford, and every step closer made his stomach churn.

He changed his tactic and focused on Calathen instead. The same warning came, showing this destination was just as bad. With no other options, he called for general guidance, pleading with Astikar to tell him what to do. His reply came in the form of distant thunder, rolling gently to alert him of a coming storm. He ended the prayer, looking up at the gray skies in silent acknowledgment. There was a storm coming, of this he was certain, and they would both be caught in it.

With no clear path to choose, the only choice was duty. He'd been ordered to Whiteford, and he would go to Whiteford. At least the Father Abbot would be there, and thus so would a number of the brothers. The presence of his brothers might afford him some protection from whatever danger waited there.

He started back with a heavy heart, his eyes looking ahead for his only source of distraction. Lilly was awake, standing tall with arms spread wide as she yawned so wide it looked painful. It was a mystery how a dragon of over five hundred years could know so little about the world and men. She had some basic understanding taught by her equally mysterious mother, but her knowledge was woefully lacking. She was innately curious about humans and how they experienced the world, full of questions that never seemed to end. When he pointed out how strange this seemed to him, she took a moment to consider it and explained. It was the difference between her dragon form and the human one. The world was very isolated from the skies, a remote place full of tiny things. Walking through it as a human was a vastly different experience, exposing her to all sorts of new stimuli. This human body felt so weak, yet that weakness allowed them to explore the world more intimately.

He was grateful she was in a better mood, the anger much diminished, but still did his best to keep her distracted and talking, especially about food. She was enamored with human food and eager to hear all about the things they ate. He laughed at the thought. Not only did Lilly love human food, but they also loved humans as food. The other day proved that when she offered to eat the bandits to save time. Was it the right decision to allow her to do it? Certainly, it seemed second nature to Lilly, but the sound of those bones crunching made him shiver. She skipped dinner that night, no matter how he tried to entice her with bread. She smiled and sat on her coins, rubbing her stomach with a sigh.

As he approached the camp, she turned around and stepped barefooted onto a log. She stood there, long silver hair blowing in the breeze as she closed her eyes. With a deep breath, she threw her arms wide, slowly turning her hands to feel the breeze.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he arrived beside her.

“It feels different,” she replied in a gentle tone.

“What does?”

“The wind,” she said, turning to smile at him. “As a dragon, I always thought of the wind as something strong to fill your wings and carry you up. I never noticed how gentle it could be.” She paused, shaking out her hair so it would catch more of the breeze. “Everything feels different but familiar as if this was how it was always meant to feel. The wind is stronger high in the skies and over the mountains, but down here, where you humans feel it, it is a gentle caressing thing.”

“It can be forceful at times. Sometimes the wind can blow so strongly it topples trees or damages houses,” he said, not wanting her to think the wind was always gentle.

“I can hear it blowing through the leaves,” she said, looking up. “I can smell the scent of water it carries as if the storm was already here.”

He smiled as she described the wind felt to a human as if he wasn't one. It was a whole new world for Lilly, and he was grateful it offered her some enjoyment.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked as she basked in the breeze.

“Not yet. I still feel full. You rodents are a good meal.”

“I have been meaning to ask you about that. How do you eat a huge volume of food as a dragon, then transform into a human? Where does all that food go?”

Lilly put her head down to think about it. “I have no idea,” she said at last. “But I don't think this body you see is my body compressed down. It's a projection.”

“A projection?”

“My mother explained it to me once.” She stopped playing in the wind, and walked back to her bedroll, scooping the coins into her pack. “She said all life exists in two forms, the physical here, and the spiritual someplace else. Our bodies are projections from the spiritual into the physical. When a dragon changes form, it isn't physically altering its body. It is withdrawing the one projection and projecting a new one.”

“Your mother sounds like a fascinating woman, err dragon,” Gersius corrected.

“My mother was very mysterious. She told me many things that never made sense to me.”

“Like what?”

“She told me that I would one day have to choose between both my hearts and she once hid something special right under the nose of the stone, red dragon.”

“That is very mysterious,” Gersius said as he belted his sword around his waist.

“She tried to tell me about things from the past, but I didn't want to listen,” she said with a pause in her scooping. “We dragons spend very little time with our mothers compared to how long we live,” she added, looking forlorn. “We live thousands of years, and yet we spend less than twenty of them with our mothers.”

“Is your mother still alive? Do you ever see her?”

“She is alive, and I do see her. I go to see her once every hundred years or so.” Lilly suddenly looked tearful as a few loose coins fell from her hands. “I suppose I won't be going to see her anymore. She is so very far away, and I can't fly.”

Gersius cursed under his breath, realizing the mistake he had just made.

“Lilly, I am sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful thoughts.”

“It’s alright,” she said softly and resumed packing her coins. “I have thought about our meeting over the past few days. I realize you did your best to heal me, and I appreciate how hard you tried.”

Gersius was grateful to hear that, but the tear she wiped away made him feel deeply sorry for her.

“Besides, you didn't do this to me; Mulizoth did,” she said with a growl of anger in her voice.

Gersius paused at the mention of the name. Mulizoth was the dragon of the black spires, notorious for raiding human settlements far to the north of Delvarium. Thankfully the dragon was rarely seen, and then only on the edges of the wild. He was months travel away from Lilly's valley by foot, though he supposed the trip was shorter by flight. Still, why would this dragon come so far east to attack Lilly? He couldn't think of a logical reason and silently hoped that whatever the dragon's motivation, his role in this war was over.

He was the first dragon Gersius thought about seeking, but his lair was well behind the Doan lines and out of his reach. Still, while searching the records for another dragon, he read over a dozen reports of Mulizoth's depredations. Villages all along the edges of the wilds were burned away in great fires. Any livestock was gone, and in most cases, so were the people. When some did manage to survive, they spoke of a red beast that came from the skies hurling fire and laughter. The only reason they knew this beast's name was because he bellowed it as he descended on helpless villages.

Lilly was the only other dragon they found a record of, and it was a vague report from many years ago. There was a reference to a small group of treasure hunters going out to confirm it, but no record of their return. Gersius was certain Lilly could tell him exactly what happened to them. He glanced her way, noticing the pain of trembling lips, and wet eyes as she covered her face and made a low wail.

“Lilly, what is wrong?” he asked, coming to her side.

“I won’t be able to see my mother ever again!” she sobbed. “I can’t fly, and she will never know what happened to me.”

Some form of terrible pain pressed him over the link they shared. It moved him to great pity to see this mighty dragon crying for her mother. The loss of her wings took away everything she held dear, including her mother. He felt a great need to give her some hope for a brighter path ahead, but that meant taking a risk. He would have to give up his secret and tell her what he prayed for night and day.

“Lilly,” he said, trying to get her attention. “There is something I need to tell you. Something that might change how you feel right now.”

She looked up at him with red eyes that trembled with pain. “What?” she asked in a broken voice.

He steadied himself for what he was about to say as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“There is a chance we can heal your wings, and you will be able to fly again.”

Her eyes went wide at his words, the hands falling away in shock. “There is?”

“I did not want to tell you about it earlier because I was afraid to get your hopes up. It will take a great deal of effort to try, and I can not guarantee it will work, but If I can get enough of the brothers of my order to work together and combine our power, we can do something called Cer'verah. It is an old blessing of my order that is rarely performed.”

“It can give me back my wings?” she said, her voice quaking.

“I do not know, maybe. It is an ancient ceremony used for very rare purposes. It takes at least a dozen brothers to do and requires the use of a holy artifact. We have a golden disk in our temple known as Astikars seal. It has words of healing and purity written on its surface and acts as a gateway to the god's power. I have never seen this done, but we have written accounts of my order using the disk, and the power of the brothers, to restore people and cure them of injuries months even years old.”

Lilly looked like she was going to cry even more fiercely than before as he felt something of her pushing at him over the bind, a sense of hope.

“You have to understand; it is up to Astikar who is restored. All we do is open a conduit large enough for him to reach through. Whether he does or does not is his choice.”

Gersius wasn't prepared for what happened next. Lilly fell to her knees; her arms folded over her stomach, and cried tears of joy. The whole scene made him very uncomfortable and filled his mind with doubts. He'd given her new hope and purpose in life, but would Astikar heal a dragon? What would happen to Lilly if the ceremony was performed and the god said no?

He let her cry for a bit, then helped her with her bedroll. She asked a dozen questions about the seal and how soon they could do the ceremony. She was disappointed to learn it was in Calathen, and they would have to wait until after Whiteford. It failed to sour her mood, however, and she was even more anxious to get moving. With a spring in her step and a glow the gray skies couldn’t darken, she set out eager to get going.

It rained briefly that morning, but Lilly was too overcome with joy. She threw her head back with a smile on her face as the raindrops mixed with her tears. He heard all about how wonderful the rain felt in her human form, as if it was all new and wonderful.

By mid-afternoon, the storm was long passed, and the clouds were breaking, allowing the warm rays of the sun to dry the moist ground. Gersius led the way, glancing at Lilly several times as he pondered a thought.


“Lilly, I want to ask you something.”

She glanced over at him with bright eyes, forcing him to drink deeply of their rich blue.

“What?”

“Why does Mulizoth have a name when you do not?”

She scowled slightly to hear his name spoken and looked away with a sigh. “We dragons don’t take names until we are much older, or we have a need for one. When you live alone in a cave and never speak to anyone, you have little use for a name.”

“Then, Mulizoth is very old?” Gersius pried.

Lilly shook her head. “He is older than me, to be sure, but not much older. Maybe twice my age.”

“Then why did he have a name?”

Lilly shrugged and glanced at him, her face blank of expression. “He must have needed one.”

Gersius nodded his head at the obvious answer. “So, how do you know his name?”

“He told me,” she mumbled softly, unhappy to be having this conversation.

Gersius decided to change the topic slightly, interested in another facet of dragon names.

“How do you learn your true name?”

Lilly sighed and looked away, her shoulders sagging as she refused to answer.

“Is this more of your dragon secrets?”

“Yes,” she said, with downcast eyes. “There is so much I could tell you, but I don’t know if I should.”

“Keep your secrets if you must, but always understand I will never reveal anything you share with me.”

She glanced at him with a smile. “I suppose this one won't hurt. We dragons learn things while we sleep.”

“You learn from sleeping?” Gersius asked.

“Let me explain,” she said. “When we sleep, we are still aware. It's hard to explain because you have no understanding of the concept. We can do something we would call dream walking.”

“You are right. I have no idea what you are talking about,” he agreed.

She groaned with a toss of her head. “We can enter a sort of dream world. There we can learn things. It's how I know my true name. When a dragon reaches the age of roughly three hundred, it will have a dream where they learn their true name.”

“So who tells you the name?” he asked.

“I don't know,” Lilly said. “When I saw my true name, I was dreaming about looking into my stream, and it was a shimmer of golden light on the water. I heard it pronounced once, and I woke up.”

“That is very odd,” he said.

“No, it isn't!” she protested. “We do all sorts of things in our dreams. We can even find other dragons that way.”

“You can find other dragons?”

“Well, I can when I'm older. Anywhere from the age of one thousand five hundred to two thousand five hundred, a female dragon will feel the calling and –” she suddenly went silent as her face reddened.

“And what?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly.

He laughed at the sudden change and pressed the point. “You were just about to tell me how you can find other dragons.”

“We just can,” she said, trying to put the topic to rest.

“Why are you blushing?” he asked as she tried to hide the fact by looking away.

“It’s personal!” she said.

“Why would being able to find other dragons be personal?” he asked, and then the idea dawned on him. “This is how you find males to mate with.”

“I said it was personal!” she snapped.

“So you feel a sort of calling to do it,” he added.

“Gersius!” she cried. “I don’t pester you about what you pray about!”

“I would tell you. I have nothing to hide.”

“I am not hiding anything!”

He shrugged. “Let us talk about something else then.”

“Yes, let’s talk about something else,” she agreed. “How much further to Whiteford?”

He sighed as his thoughts went back to the task at hand and the feelings of dread when he prayed.

“Three days, maybe four at the most.”

“And then we can go to Calathen?”

He nodded. “Then we go to Calathen.” Gersius did his best to hide the worry from his voice. He didn’t want her to notice the apprehension he felt with every step closer to Whiteford. What danger lay on this road, and would he reach his brothers safely?

He thought back to Jessivel and what he said about his men. They were all found dead, including Marcus, who was alive and well when they parted. What could have happened to him? Was it bandersooks, an accident? He briefly considered another possibility that was not at all comforting. Dellain was the one who found his men. Could he have something to do with Marcus's death?

Gersius tried to clear that thought from his mind. Maybe Dellain miscounted, or Jessivel had gotten the wrong information. Marcus could be in Calathen right now delivering his report, but how had Jessivel reached him so quickly?


He realized that if Jessivel was dispatched from Calathen, it would be another week yet before they would meet. That meant Jessivel was already much closer when he was sent. Since the orders came from the Father Abbot himself, that could only mean he too was much closer. To find his slain men and have time to return and report before dispatching new orders meant he was close indeed. They must have left Calathen right on his heels and been on the road moving east even as his men entered the Greenwall.

Gersius suddenly felt even more uncomfortable as the pieces came together. Jessivel said the Father Abbot sent multiple people to find him. If the Father Abbot was on the road, Marcus would have delivered the report, and the Father Abbot would have known precisely where he was going. It would not have required sending more than one messenger. That meant Marcus was dead, and the coded message hadn't reached Tavis and Ayawa. He realized he was going to need a new plan and knew exactly what to do.

They walked another few hours and reached the outskirts of a small village called Pinehollow. It was a modest town with less than a dozen buildings making up its heart. It was surrounded by farms and herds of cattle, which Lilly pointed out, looked good to eat.

While the land around the town had only a few trees, the town itself was densely planted with them. Tall branching oaks and slender silver pines blanketed the region that acted as the town center. Flowers grew around every house, and lush green ferns hid in the shade under the oaks. He noted an odd number of warehouses to store food as if the town was accustomed to abundance.

All of the buildings were made of wood and plaster, with a few having stone foundations. Thatch roofs were the norm, sagging in the middle from long years, and often nested with birds. He searched for an official building of any kind but didn't see so much as a guardhouse. Pine hollow was just a sleepy little town off the road and did not need guards.

He kept his eye open as they entered, eventually spotting a small horseshoe-shaped building on a hill at the town edge. It was a single floor, almost entirely stone and covered with moss and vines so that it almost disappeared in the landscape. On the roof of the building was a wooden emblem of a plow and a bundle of grain. He directed Lilly to the building, taking her directly to the front door.

“This is a temple to Ulustrah, Goddess of the harvest and fertility,” he said as they approached. “It is a good and kind faith whose priests bless the land and bring good harvests.”

“Why are we going here?” she asked as they approached.

“I want to speak to the priest and see if I can get a message sent.”

They reached the plain oaken door, and Gersius knocked firmly, producing a deep thumping inside. He looked at Lilly when nothing happened and raised his hand to knock again, but the door opened.

“What can I do for, oh, a fellow priest,” came a woman's voice.

She stepped into the doorway wearing a green hooded robe with a golden vine pattern woven on the trim. She threw back her hood and blinked in the fading light of the sun. Her skin was pale, but her gently angled eyes dark and mysterious. The wry smile on her face was framed by long, raven black hair, tied into a cord down her back with a golden ribbon.

“A priest of Vellis?” she questioned as she studied them?

“Astikar,” he said, bowing his head.

“Astikar? I thought all of your order was west fighting in the war?”

“Most of us are, some of us are helping in other ways,” he responded. “How did you know I was a priest? I am not wearing my armor or insignia.”

“I can see the power of your aura. All priests have a strong light, and yours is stronger still.” She turned to Lilly, who was entranced by the manner of speaking the woman used. “And what order are you from, priestess?”

“She is not a priestess,” Gersius answered for her.

The woman's eyes narrowed on Lilly, and she leaned in close, looking her up and down. Her gaze fixed on a spot just over Lilly’s head as if studying something.

“You're wrong,” she said. “I have never seen an aura like hers. It shifts and grows, bright then dark. It is different than yours or mine, but it has power in it.”

Gersius shifted tensely as the woman leaned toward Lilly and studied the air over her head once more.

“I see,” the woman finally said, then paid Lilly no further attention. “How can I help you, priest of Astikar?”

“I need a favor. I need to send a letter, and I need it to go swiftly and secretly.”

The woman shot Lilly a glance and responded. “Indeed, you do.”

“Do you have a pen and paper I could use? And do you have somebody trustworthy who can carry a letter to Kingsbridge?” He watched as she studied him carefully, considering something before replying.

“I am priestess Thayle, and I welcome you, priest?” she paused, waiting for his name.

“Gersius,” he said with a tip of his head.

“Gersius, the hero of Asitkar,” she said with a twitch of her eyes. “My, my, a hero is at my temple and with–” Her gaze came to Lilly as the sentence died, a slight smile curling the corner of her lips. With a wave of her hand, she ushered them in. “Come inside. I will get you something to write with.”

Lilly hesitated at the door, wary of following the strange woman inside. The way those narrow eyes looked at her, and what the woman claimed to have seen, was disturbing. She felt exposed and vulnerable as if the woman could look into her solus and see the truth.

“Come, Lilly,” Gersius said from the doorway when he noticed she wasn’t following.

“Could I stay out here?” she asked, stepping back as her hands played nervously with her dress.

“As you wish, but please do not wander far from the temple,” he asked and went inside.

Thayle led him down a small hall to a room barely large enough for a desk and chair. A few books rested on the desk, but so too did a quill and inkwell.

“There is paper in the drawer on your right,” she said, leaning against the wall as Gersius sat down. “You keep interesting company, Gersius Knight Captain and hero of the war.”

Gersius let her words sink in, wondering what game she was playing. Obviously, she was suspicious of something, but what he did not know. Better to be polite and play her game a little to see what he might learn in return.

“I see my name has traveled far,” he replied as he pulled open the drawer.

“Ha, I suspect everybody has heard the name Gersius at one time or another, but you dodge my question.”

“You did not ask a question,” he said, dipping the pen and starting to write.

“Oh, I see. We're going to play at words, are we?”

Now he knew she was prying, attempting to encourage him to divulge something voluntarily. “I do not play games; I do what needs to be done.”

“You can attempt to avoid the answers I seek but know this. You are talking to a priestess of Ulustrah. Our order specializes in negotiating marriages and helping people with love. I have a great deal of practice being direct and blunt.”

Gersius didn't like where this was going. It was easy to avoid answering in a game of words, but a direct question was another matter.

“I will take your silence to mean you don't believe me,” Thayle said as a smile spreading on her face. “Very well, direct it is. Why are you traveling with a dragon?”

Gersius blotted the paper he was writing on as his hand tensed. He took a deep breath to center himself, not wanting his anger to cloud his judgment.

“How did you know?”

“I can see it over her, a great horned head lizard-like and fierce. It appears as a shadow wreathed in mist, glowing and then going dark as if a choice was to be made.” Thayle suddenly looked away as if lost in thought. “Something hangs in the balance with her, something deeply missed or desired, but to attain it is to lose everything.”

Gersius got up and faced Thayle, his tension mounting.

“I need you to keep this! Tell nobody of what you see or that you have seen me at all,” he said to her, trying to keep control of his fear.

“Gersius,” she smiled up at him. “I am a simple country priestess. I get few visitors outside my village. Who could I tell?”

“Words have a way of getting to the wrong ears,” he said, locking her eyes. “I cannot risk what Lilly is getting out. It will put her in great danger.”

“Lilly, such a pretty name for a dragon,” she said, still smiling. “I suppose that isn’t her real name.”

“No, it is not.”

“Then the war must be going terribly if you intend to fulfill the prophecy and march a dragon into Calathen?”

“You really are direct,” he said, still watching her intently.

“How did she come to be a human? Did you use some form of enchantment?”

“Thayle, I need you to understand something. You are the only one besides myself who knows Lilly is a dragon. I have sworn to keep her secrets, and I need you to swear to me that you will keep them as well.”

“Are you threatening me?” she said with a laugh.

“I mean you no harm or threat. I simply need to know you understand the severity of this situation.”

“That was a lie. You are threatening me. I can see the anger and apprehension in your aura. It is something you often see in dangerous men.”

“Thayle, I need to know I can trust you,” he said with a determined tone in his voice.

“You have my word as a priestess of Ulustrah; I will not reveal your secrets, or hers,” she said at last. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yes,” was all he said, eager to put this problem to rest, but Thayle pressed on.

“Does this mean you won't tell me how she became a human?”

“No, I will not tell you how she became a human,” Gersius responded, his tension near the breaking point.

Thayle rolled her eyes in defeat and moved to the doorway.

“Write your letter then. I will go and find Thomas, a reliable man with a good fast horse to carry it. I vouch for his character despite the fact that he is probably chasing the girls in the market.

“Thank you, Priestess Thayle,” he replied and watched her go. With a sigh, he began again, carefully writing the letter he hoped would salvage his plan, though in his heart he was thinking of Lilly.

---

Below her in a field, tables had been set out and white cloths placed over them. Mounds of colorful flowers rested on these tables, as did plates, bowels, and all manner of human things. Many people in bright clothes were talking and clasping hands as they gathered together around the tables. One woman, in particular, was surrounded by the others. She wore an outfit of white and green and had a crown of white flowers on her head. Lilly thought of the crown Gersius had made for her when a voice made her jump.

“Hello again, Lilly,” came Thayles's voice.

Lilly turned about quickly to look into the dark eyes of the priestess standing not five steps away.

“Gersius is writing a letter, and I am going to fetch a good man to carry it,” she said as she approached those eyes, studying her again. She wanted to run away and find Gersius so he could drive the strange woman off but was determined not to be frightened by this rodent.

“Will he be done soon?” she asked, not sure what else to say.

“He is writing in code from what little I saw. He must have many secrets to keep.” Thayle leaned in closer to Lilly. “Many, many secrets.” She paused as if waiting for a reaction, shrugging when none came. “It may take him some time. Writing in code always takes longer.”

Lilly took a step away from her, feeling very uncomfortable.

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” the woman said. “It's just I have never seen anybody quite like you. You fascinate me.” She took a step back on her own, giving Lilly some room.

“You can see things?” Lilly said, not sure what the woman was referring to.

“As a priestess who often deals with matters of the heart, we are gifted with the ability to see auras,” she replied, leaning against an apple tree. “Men can be hard to deal with, but their auras betray the truth. They change colors when they feel strong emotions or when they lie. Equally, a woman's heart can be fluid and fickle. It helps to be able to see the truth when dealing with emotion.”

“So you can see my aura?” Lilly asked with full eyes and a tremble at her lip.

“I can see your aura, Lilly; I can see your strength.”

“Does Gersius know?” she asked.

“I have told him everything I've seen.”

Lilly wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. What had this woman seen? What did she mean by she had seen her strength? She wished Gersius was here to deal with this strange woman. She wished they had never come here.

“Be at peace, Lilly. I can see the uncertainty on your face. I can see it in your aura as well. Be at peace. I am a friend. I will help you and Gersius any way I can.”

With that, the woman walked away and left Lilly with her thoughts as music began to play behind her.

Gersius read his letter over again. It was clear. It was concise; it was dire. He hoped it would reach its destination in time.

Thayle returned with a man who was tall and perhaps a little thin. But his eyes were keen, and he carried himself well. She repeatedly vouched for his character and assured Gersius he could be trusted.

Gersius handed the man the sealed letter and told him where to deliver it. The man nodded his head and bowed, promising the letter would arrive swiftly and safely. Gersius silently prayed for both. He spoke with Thayle briefly, and she promised again to keep his secret before encouraging him to find Lilly before she got lost.

Gersius found Lilly standing on a log, straining to look through the trees at a gathered crowd of people. He heard fiddles and drums and cheering voices as he reached her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Lilly turned about with a look of wonder in her eyes.

“Do you hear that?” she said, her voice full of excitement. “What is that sound they are making down there, and why are they jumping around?”

Gersius joined her side to see more clearly what was happening below. He smiled when she took his hand, grasping it in her excitement as she strained to see more.

“That is music, and the people are dancing,” he replied, taking a moment to look at her curious expression.

“Music?” Lilly repeated as her hand tightened on his. “I think my mother told me about music once, but what is dancing?”

“Come,” he said, tugging at her hand. “It will be easier to show you.”

He took her through the trees to the side of the clearing where they would have a better view. Candles burned on every table, and a great fire blazed on one end of the field, bathing the area in a warm glow. People in fancy clothes and brightly colored dresses pranced about, eating, drinking, talking, and dancing. The scene was one of joy; as wine and smiles flowed, the people lost to their revelry.

“Why are they dancing?” Lilly asked as they got closer.

“It looks like a wedding,” Gersius said.

“What is a wedding?” she asked, genuinely lost as to what was happening.

Gersius took a moment to think of the best way to describe such a thing to a dragon. “A wedding is when a man and woman make a sacred vow to love one another for the rest of their lives.”

“Love one another?” Lilly said as if the concept were foreign. “Why would they do that?”

“Most people do it because they want to start a family, have children.”

“So she has sought him out to breed with?”

Gersius laughed; her dragon point of view was making it hard to understand.

“Lilly, humans are not like dragons in this respect. Humans marry one another and make a commitment to stay together and have children. The man will not leave; he will stay and help raise the children.”

“The male doesn't leave?”

“No, not usually. Sometimes things happen, and he does leave, but for most people, the woman and the man stay together, and both of them raise the children.”

“That's why the male and female farmer were in the same house,” she said, puzzling it out.

“Now you are starting to understand.”

“You stay together forever?”

“Until death claims one of the two,” he replied with a nod.

“Why, though? Why stay together?” she asked, using her free hand to play with the edge of her dress.

Again he had to think of a good way to explain it, but the only answer he could give was simple. “Because they love one another.”

“Love?”

Gersius could see she had no concept of love, at least not as humans understood it.

“Lilly, as humans, we can grow very attached to one another. A man and a woman can become so attached that they find it difficult to be apart. They have powerful emotions for one another and desire to share them. We call this feeling love.”

“I will never understand you rodents,” Lilly said with a shake of her head.

“I would not say that. You have come a long way in just a few days, and please start trying to call us humans at least.”

The music changed, and people switched as they started a new dance.

“So why are they dancing then?”

Gersius realized he hadn't answered her original question.

Two humans have married and become a family. They are dancing in celebration of the event.”

“So two humans feel strongly for each other, they play music, and people dance for them, then the male doesn't leave?”

Gersius laughed again as she tried to work it all out.

“Enjoying the party?” came Thayle’s sudden voice.

They both jumped in surprise and turned to face the smiling priestess.

“I was just explaining to Lilly what a wedding was,” Gersius said, glancing at Thayle.

“Of course,” Thayle said, smiling at Lilly. “Maybe I can help her learn a bit more,” she added, walking into the field and up to a man in a fancy blue coat and pants. She spoke with him for a few moments and then pointed at Gersius and Lilly. The man smiled and put a hand on her shoulder, nodding his head before walking over to them.

“Welcome, friends,” he said as he reached them. “The Priestess Thayle tells me you are good friends of hers, and you're here for the night as you travel. Please, please come in and sit with us; there is plenty to eat and drink. I would be honored to invite friends of the priestess into our gathering.”

“Oh, no sir, we could not possibly impose,” Gersius said, holding a hand up.

“Nonsense, we planned the party for forty, and only thirty showed up. We have plenty to spare. Please, it would be my honor.”

Gersius realized they could not turn the man down, so he took Lilly by the hand and nodded in agreement. “I thank you for your generosity,” he said and led Lilly into the field. They sat across from Thayle at a relatively empty table as she smiled softly.

“I married them this afternoon,” she said while picking at some fruit. “The party was delayed because of the rain.”

“Your people seem to be quite happy and cheerful,” Gersius said.

“Of course they are. Blessings of food and fertility abound. What more do simple people want?”

Gersius nodded his consent. What more could they want indeed? A simple life full of simple blessings was all he ever wished for. As he pondered that thought, the music changed to a lively tune with a piper playing along.

Lilly watched as some people got up, some sat down, and the dancing started again. She watched them intently following their every move, her head starting to toss with the music.

Gersius smiled at the silly display when something bounced off the side of his head. A grape landed in his lap as he turned to see Thayle gesture at Lilly and then the field of dancers.

Gersius shook his head no as Thayle tore a small chunk of cheese off a wheel and launched it at him. He tightened his jaw as the cheese bounced off his nose, joining the grape as Thayle gestured again. With a sigh, he turned to look at Lilly, who was transfixed by the dancers.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked her.

“Dance?” she said, suddenly breaking out of her daze.

“Yes, dance, like them,” he said, pointing to the people in the field.

“What? No, oh no, I can't. I can't do that!”

Gersius was about to turn around in victory when a cheese ball hit the back of his head. He knew this was going to go on all night, so he resigned himself to his fate. Closing his eyes to bite down his frustration, he got up and turned to face Lilly.

“Come with me,” he said. “I will show you how.”

“I don't – I mean – how do I – “ she stammered, unable to complete a sentence.

Gersius took her hands and tried to guide her to her feet.

“Come, Lilly. I will guide you every step of the way.”

She hesitated, so he yanked her up, stealing a glance at Thayle, who had a wide grin on her face, and waved at him as he pulled Lilly to the field.

“Gersius, what are you doing?” Lilly hissed at him in a low voice.

“I am dancing with you,” he said, taking her to an empty spot on the field.

“I don't know how to jump about like a rodent,” she barked.

“It is very simple,” he told her, taking her left hand with his right and hooking his left arm around her waist.

“Now step with me,” he said, taking a slow step to the side. Lilly stumbled at it but managed to follow the movement. “Good, now we step again.” He stepped again, and she followed. Slowly he added more steps, gradually increasing the speed until she was following him move for move. She began to smile as she watched her feet following his steps and letting him carry her along with his arm leading her through the dance.

When the music changed, so did the dance, and he had to start over, showing her a new pattern of steps. She learned amazingly quickly, taking to dancing as if having had years of practice. She fancied this new dance because it included a twirl that ended in his arms. She stumbled on it the first time but was quickly giggling every time she spun around. He found the worries of his mission fading away as he heard that laughter and looked into those beautiful blue eyes. At that moment, all he saw was Lilly, not a dragon, but a beautiful woman, and he began to wonder what she was thinking.

Lilly was lost in the moment, so focused on the music and the dance. She caught sight of his eyes and was transfixed as he smiled and asked.

“Are you enjoying your dance?”

Lilly could only smile and blush, the words failing to come. She was enjoying jumping around like the other rodents and the feel of his arm around her waist. The revelation made her panic a bit as she struggled to understand what was wrong with her.

She felt something else, too; it was a strange sort of stirring deep inside. She had no word for it, nor understanding of its nature. She grappled with it only briefly before he spun her around again and forgot all about it. As the music played on and the night got longer, all she knew was the hope it would never end.

When the party finally ended, Thayle put them up in a small room in the back of the temple. There was only one bed, and Thayle made a snide remark about how that would be all they needed. Gersius shook his head in disapproval, but she only laughed and shut the door behind herself as she left. He put his bedroll on the floor and let Lilly have the bed as she paced around excitedly. She quickly dumped her coins on top and began to rake them up into a pile. She stopped for a moment and looked back at Gersius as he unlaced his boots.

“I enjoyed my dances,” she said with a sideways glance and a slight smile.

“I know you did. I enjoyed them too,” he replied, thinking about how human she felt in those moments.

“We could dance some more. If you want to, I mean. If there's another wedding,” she said, stumbling over the words.

“There are many more reasons to dance than just weddings,” he said, setting his boots aside. “If you like dancing so much, I will watch for another chance.”

He saw her blush a little as she stole a glance at him. Gersius had to look away and fight to contain his thoughts. What was happening here? Why was he suddenly having new doubts about what he was doing? Why did he feel like protecting Lilly from his quest was more important than completing it? A sense of apprehension that could only be divine fell over him, but he shook it away. He had his orders, and a priest of Astikar obeyed his Father Abbot.

He looked at her again as she piled her coins. It was a behavior that only a dragon would do, yet, try as he might, he struggled to see a dragon. All he could see was the beautiful woman he called Lilly glowing with excitement. He heard her as she climbed into bed on that pile of coins, the metal shifting under her weight. He reminded himself she did that because she was a dragon. Despite her outward appearance, she was still a dragon.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, but it was useless. He tried to remind himself that if they had met just a few days earlier, she would have killed him. She was deadly and violent and ate people when the chance arrived. None of it helped as he looked again, and all he saw was Lilly. Try as he might to deny it, he knew he would gladly die for her. Dragon or not, he would do anything to protect her.

He wondered if to protect her, they should turn back, defy his orders, and go straight to Calathen. He began to doubt his convictions and had to remind himself why he was doing all this. He had to unite the shattered kingdoms to give the people hope and the will to fight. He had to fulfill the prophecy to save them, but deep down, he knew the truth. His priorities had changed somehow, and all that mattered to him was getting to Calathen not to save it but to heal Lilly's wings. He went to bed restless and dreamed of dancing with Lilly in his arms.