Etin had never been so happy to see the ground before.

He fell to his knees, feeling the dirt with his fingers. It was an odd sensation, especially given how he didn’t even have skin, let alone nerves—and a thick pair of gloves on top. By all logic, he shouldn’t have felt anything, but he did anyway.

A soothing sensation, and one he welcomed after the nightmarish ride through the skies.

“You should have told me you were afraid of flying,” Al’vathazen grumbled, clawing at the earth with discontent. “I’d have let you ride on top.”

A wave of horror passed through Etin. At least. In the dragon’s claws, he’d been somewhat safe, despite his fears. Riding on top… Etin didn’t even want to imagine.

“No, no,” Etin sent. “No riding. Please.”

When they were done with this quest, he’d take a ship back. Anything but more flying.

“It’s a moot point. I don’t think we can keep to the skies anymore,” Al’vathazen said. “We’d be spotted sooner or later.”

The dragon let out a soft whine, visibly upset over this development. Etin couldn’t find it in himself to sympathize. If he could remain on the ground for the rest of his life, however long that was, he would die a happy skeleton.

“Al’vathazen—”

“Just Vathaz,” the dragon said sheepishly. “Only my Mother calls me by my full name, and that’s when I’m in trouble.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you know where we’re supposed to go?” Etin asked. He’d been given a rundown before leaving, but he’d not paid much attention to their route, on account of the mortal terror. “Actually, do you know where we are?”

“Just south of that town of yours,” the dragon beamed. “Raven-something?”

“Ravenrock,” Etin said. If it was close, then…

“We’ll probably need disguises if we’re going to travel by foot. I can handle myself, but you…”

“Me?” Etin asked incredulously. “I’m not the one who’s as big as a building.”

Vathaz arched a single eyebrow. “I can transform into something else, you know. Mother wouldn’t have let me come if I couldn’t.”

Etin hadn’t known that—he hadn’t thought as far, but he supposed it made sense.

“Oh. So you can turn into a human?”

“Among other things. I’d rather do an elf, though.”

Etin had heard of them, but never seen one. “Wouldn’t that be cospi—coni—cospicunous?” Julian had explicitly said they shouldn’t be…. whatever that word was.

“Conspicuous. And um, possibly. They should be more common further in.”

“Can you do a human for now?”

Vathaz sighed. “Fine. But we still need to do something about you.”

“About me?” Etin didn’t see anything odd about himself. He was shaped like a human, and his armor covered all the important bits—

“I can see your ankles. And your neck. And your armor looks like it came from an ancient ruin.”

Of course—how had he missed that? He remembered passers-by complaining about something like back when he’d been merely a guard. But he didn’t think they applied to him. “Aren’t those standards only for women?” He was pretty sure he wasn’t one, so that rule didn’t apply to him, right?

Vathaz gave him a flat look, which was actually rather scary coming from a dragon. “Your bones are sticking out.”

Etin inspected himself. That was… true. Now that he looked at himself properly, he realized anyone could see he was a skeleton under that armor. Which may have been fine in Ravenrock, but if they were going to pass through other settlements…

And his armor—he had, indeed, neglected to take any care of it. He hadn’t been supposed to, when he was a mindless Wight, but there wasn’t any excuse now. The heraldry of Ravenrock had long since faded, and the metal was flaking off in rusty strips.

He really needed something new.

“I think there might be some newer armor at the tower,” he said after a while. “Father kept a lot of items and trinkets in the basement.”

Probably some suits of armor as well. If not, he could sell something off and buy armor from the town. Shiro had taught him all about it.

Vathaz perked up. “To take a look at an Archmage’s hoard? Yes, that sounds like a worthy detour.” There was a glint in his eyes that Etin wasn’t sure he liked.

Vathaz wouldn’t do anything bad, would he? Stealing was bad. Thieves were to be caught—that was one of the oldest truths he’d ever known.

He let go the thought. No, Vathaz was a nice dragon. Etin had no reason to doubt him.

Probably

~*~

Etin had always admired the way Sarah looked. The way her black armor seemed to absorb all light was mesmerizing, and Etin had seen the way the young knight took care of it. It was a whole ritual she went through every few days, where she brushed and polished every inch of her armor, never leaving a single speck to mar its beauty.

She’d taught him all the motions, but he’d never had the chance to put them into practice. His own armor stood to fall apart if you looked at it wrong. That hadn’t been a problem until now—the main reason he’d been wearing one in the first place was because he’d been a guard, and guards had to wear a uniform. The meatier Wights might have gotten away with plain clothes, as they looked close enough to a human, but people decidedly did not like naked skeletons running about.

Which meant Etin had been given an already worn piece of armor—and that had been almost a decade ago.

Now, though, he’d struck the jackpot. Etin had been right to assume he’d find something in the tower’s basement. Perhaps it had been Julian’s knowledge leaking through the bond.

‘Money can be exchanged for goods and services,’ Shiro had wisely told him.

And as Etin’s eyes fell on the treasure trove beneath the tower, he knew that the gold down there could be exchanged for a lot of goods and services.

“That’s probably enough for some new armor,” Etin sent, giddy with excitement.

Vathaz, who was now shaped like a human, looked at him as if he was daft. The tower wasn’t large enough that he could enter in his real form, so he’d taken the opportunity to shift into a much more manageable human form. He’d clothed himself with a collection of loose drapey silks, giving him the air of a spoiled, rich young master.

“You could fund a whole army with this. How did your master get so much gold?”

“My Father,” Etin corrected. Now that they were away from Miranavisr, Vathaz was starting to fall back into his more pompous persona. Etin wasn’t overly fond of this development. “And he did have a lot of Wights assigned to manual labor.” He hadn’t been one of them, but Etin knew of several mines in the region, all staffed by undead.

Now that he thought about it, he was rather glad he hadn’t been one of the miner Wights. He’d learned so much from watching people, even if he hadn’t been aware at the time.

The dragon eyed the piles of gold greedily.

“No stealing,” Etin said, giving Vathaz the side-eye.

The dragon sniffed haughtily. “As if I’d lower myself to petty thievery. But I can also say the same to you, dear Etin. Is it not theft if you use this gold for your own benefit?”

Etin hesitated. Father hadn’t given him any instruction on this topic, but that also meant he hadn’t forbidden him from using the gold. And Father was, well, his father. Family was supposed to share, didn’t it? “I’m sure he won’t mind,” Etin sent back after some deliberation. Then, an idea sparked. “And I’m— we are technically running an errand for him.”

Vathaz smirked. “Then it’s only fair that we’re properly funded for the trip, is it not?”

Etin hedged. “I guess.”

“The trip inland won’t be without cost. Now,” he said, giving Etin a long look, “you don’t seem to be much aware of the value of money—”

“And you are? I thought you’d never left your island.”

“More aware than you, at least.”

Etin couldn’t argue with that.

“So I’ll take the charge of our finances,” Vathaz continued. “Don’t worry, I’ll only take as much as we need.”

Hesitantly, Etin nodded in assent. He was the first to admit that his knowledge of currency wasn’t the best—that it was only slightly better than none at all. It made sense that Vathaz should handle these affairs.

As Vathaz’s eyes glinted in the torchlight, with that satisfied smile on his face, Etin couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just made a big mistake.

~*~

Ravenrock had changed a lot since Etin had last been in town. He walked the streets now, not as a mindless undead on patrol, but as a citizen having returned home from a great journey.

Which was true, to some extent, but Etin couldn’t help but feel like a tourist.

Wights still patrolled the town. He’d walked up to a few, expecting to see a spark of recognition, but all of them reacted with the same automaton-like response they had been programmed with. The one he’d been programmed with.

The sense of kinship he felt towards them was a one-sided thing, and their guileless rejection made him feel like an outsider. Still, he couldn’t help but look back at those days.

He almost fell back into the roteness of it—stand in the pre-assigned spot and await queries. Watch for anomalous behavior. Intervene when required—and here was a long list of protocols and procedures, instructions on how to behave for anything from a minor altercation to murder in broad daylight to attacking raiders.

His usual spot was empty, as were many others he’d passed by. The Wight that was missing half his head was gone, as was the one with the horse’s leg. Only a much diminished force had remained in Ravenrock after the war.

But the town was healing, and from the ashes, something new was being born. Where only Wights had provided protection before, Etin could now see humans patrolling the streets.

Sarah had mentioned them before—they’d started as a gang before she had picked them up and showed them a better way. Etin could see why they’d change. Sarah was very smart and knew a great many things. She could definitely inspire people to follow her.

Etin and Vathaz arrived at the blacksmith’s without any trouble. While the general crowd ignored Etin, unable to tell one Wight from another, Vathaz’s rich young man impression was enough to make people move out of their path. Etin’s presence would only have strengthened the idea that Vathaz was some kind of visiting foreign dignitary.

“Hello there,” a young man called out from behind the counter as the pair entered the smithy. “Anything I can help you with?”

He addressed the question to Vathaz, having immediately put Etin out of his mind. Vathaz merely looked at Etin, gesturing for him to take the lead.

“Hello,” Etin sent to the young shopkeeper. It took him a second—opening a new link was more difficult than talking with someone he already knew. “I want to purchase some armor.”

As anyone should have expected—and Vathaz certainly did—the shopkeeper froze on the spot. Having words suddenly ring inside your head was not something the average person was used to, or expected at all. Especially not when it came from a being that should have, by all reason, been about as intelligent as a dog.

Vathaz laughed quietly, hiding his mouth with one of his oversized sleeves.

“Is this not where armor is made?” Etin asked, a slight quiver in his voice. He’d have hated to get the place wrong. But Sarah had mentioned it by name.

“I think you put our friend here in shock,” Vathaz teased.

Etin’s eye lights blinked off and on. “Oh no,” he said, and took a step towards the shopkeeper. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”

The shopkeeper recoiled at the movement, his awareness returning to him. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he almost shouted. “Please, stay where you are. I’ll get Master Kallo.”

He jumped a few paces back and disappeared deeper into the smithy.

“What a nice boy,” Etin said after a few moments. “He went after his master straight away. That must mean he thinks we’re important, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” Vathaz said between fits of laughter. “Very important.”

“He must know Father,” Etin concluded.

At long last, a mountainous creature made its way to the front of the shop. Easily one of the biggest humans Etin had ever seen. His eyes darted to the two would-be adventurers before pinning Etin with his gaze.

“Now,” Master Kallo said, his voice thick like magma, “Who’re you, and wha’d’ya do to make my apprentice into a blubbering mess?”

Oh no, Etin thought. I’m in trouble.