The two officers led Franz in silence, weaving through the streets of Draughton before arriving in the City Guard’s headquarters, adjacent to the prison and mess hall. As they arrived, most of the guards on duty simply got out of their way after noticing First Lieutenant Jean Martine’s usually relaxed demeanor replaced by a somber expression. Along with the Second Lieutenant’s normal expression, even Franz had quieted down in such an atmosphere.

Entering the main building, Jean marched straight to the man sitting at the Receptionist desk.

“Is the Captain available, Dels?”

“Oh, First Lieutenant, the Captain’s in right now, but she said not to disturb her. If you’d like to wait, it shouldn’t be-”

“Nevermind that, we’re going up. Don’t let anyone interrupt us.”

With that, the three walked past the desk and a confused Dels and started up the stairs to the second floor. Ignoring Dels’ questions, Jean reached the second floor, passed various storage rooms for contraband, priority items and a few records of the city and the guard. At the end of the hallway, Jean knocked on a heavy wooden door three times, crisply. After some rustling, an annoyed voice told them to come in.

Jean grunted slightly as he pushed the door in and met the gaze of Captain Elspen. Flinching internally, he could at once tell how pissed she was. The Captain was in her mid fifties, with grey hair tied into a tight braid and the typical light olive skin of the region. She could have had a soft, motherly face if she truly tried, but almost two decades of heading the City Guard of Draughton, along with experience in real combat during the war, gave her a permanent glare that inspired discipline. Jean thought it was terrifying, frankly, and it resonated inside him in a way that led him to think his mother had been similar in his previous world.

With the door closed, Trakov exhaling as he used his full body’s weight, the Captain rubbed the bridge of her nose and addressed no one in particular. “I thought I’d told Dels to give me some privacy.”

Clearing his throat nervously, Jean tried to explain, “Captain Elspen, I apologize for the disturbance, we forced our way past Dels. I full take responsibility for it, so be lenient with him, Ma’am.”

Hands pinned to his sides, staring straight ahead above the seated Captain, and back so straight it had started to be uncomfortable, Jean waited for a response. He had no fondness for military discipline, despite the 4 years -almost 5 now- he’d spent as a member of the Draughton City Guard. They weren’t technically part of the military, really, but every member of the guard was trained for combat and other wartime situations, and the Olivar Kingdom’s army would comprise of elite and personal troops first, city guardsmen second, and militiamen and levies after that. He, along with Trakov and the other Second Lieutenant, even received military officer training. In Jean and Trakov’s cases, it was specifically for the Scouting Corps. All this being said, while he was fairly friendly with his subordinates, Jean was purely professional with his superiors. Which, with his most recent promotion, was only Captain Elspen.

“I’ll have a word with Dels at another time, he’s still too timid. Though, this isn’t really the problem at hand. I take it since you’ve interrupted my work, you have something important to tell me?”

“Yes, Captain.” Turning slightly, I gestured to Franz before continuing. “A situation has risen with Guardsman Diolle, ma’am. I tried to take care of it myself, but it’s gotten out of hand.”

“Guardsmen Diolle…” Her stare now boring into Franz, Jean saw him squirm nervously in the corner of his eye. “I’ve mostly overlooked Guardsman Diolle’s past… incidents due to their minor nature, and the assurances from two trusted officers.” Glancing at Jean and then pointedly at Trakov, Captain Elspen was still for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I pray that this isn’t so disastrous I’d have to reconsider just who I put my trust in?”

“Aida, if I could explain-”

“Second Lieutenant Sokola, you will address your superiors properly, in their presence, at least.”

Clamping his mouth shut, Trakov looked downwards before replying, “My apologies, Captain Elspen. Before anything, I wanted to state as the most experienced guardsman here, I’ve failed in my responsibilities, and haven’t adequately taught those younger than I.”

Unblinking, the Captain gave him a thoughtful look before responding.

“Noted, Lieutenant. Now, as I said before, you wouldn’t be standing in my office if it wasn’t something serious. If punishment is necessary, it will be dealt with later. Lieutenant Martine, explain what has happened.”

Not missing how Elspen had dropped the ‘first’ from his rank, Jean saluted with his right hand over his heart and explained everything he knew about the new ‘dragon’.

…

Captain Elspen had leaned back in her chair, eyes closed and hands rubbing her temple at some point during the explanation. After Jean had wrapped up all he could remember, and Trakov had said he’d nothing else to add, the Captain of the City Guard opened her flinty eyes.

“This… this is bad. And not in the way I’d hoped. Martine, I’m pissed right now, I cannot begin to imagine why you didn’t report this to me the moment you suspected something. I know you’ve been trying to handle more recently, but I gave you that promotion because you’re usually levelheaded.”

Squinting at Jean and chuckling lightly she muttered under her breath, “Young folk can’t help themselves… Divine’s mercy… Well, we’ll speak of what is to be done with you later. Same to you, Sokola. Frankly, you have handled this how I’d expect a typical northerner to, but not you. You should’ve nipped this in the bud, even if it meant throwing Diolle into a cell and letting me deal with him. For now, I want to hear what Guardsmen Diolle has to say. As disastrous as you finding out about the dragon’s nest is, any information you have about a new dragon, odd as this one seems to be, is vital.”

She finished her lecture, and all three men had different reactions. Jean politely nodded, eyes cast downwards. Trakov, eyes equal parts shame and anger, sharply saluted without breaking eye contact with the wall behind Elspen. Franz, still fidgeting, started when he was addressed by name, and audibly gulped before saying anything.

The only redeeming part of all this is that the Captain can turn Franz into a newborn fawn, shaking, passive, and even respectful, Jean thought, eyes on the floor.

“Um, uh, yes ma’am! I’ve spoken with Mi- the dragon twice now; yesterday in the um.. nest, and just a bell ago in the forest surrounding it.”

“You’ve really spoken to it? And it could speak Teran fluently, and hold a conversation?”

“Ah, yes ma’am. We talked for about two bells, and apart from difficulty with certain words, she- the dragon, was perfectly fluent.”

“She?”

“Oh, as Jea- the First Lieutenant mentioned, the dragon has very human features. To me, she looked like a girl, maybe my age. Er, I’d guess 18 or 19 years. She, the dragon, also introduced herself as Mia, Captain.”

“Mia?.. Hmm… If this creature can speak Teran and goes by Mia, we cannot discount the possibility that it has already made contact with other people…”

Captain Elspen retreated into her thoughts for a moment, before reaching into a compartment under her desk, pulling out parchment, a grey-feathered quill and a pot of ink. Without saying anything, she began to write, quill scratching loudly as the Captain scrawled in a manner implying she’d been self-taught, or taught poorly. Pausing, she addressed the room.

“With human features?”

“Captain, in my opinion, with the exception of its wings, the dragon’s face and build could possibly pass off as a particularly human-looking half-lizard. I’ve seen lizardkin several times, and the dragon Mia had similar scales and claws on its arms and legs. Its teeth are also quite like some half-lizards, from what I saw.” Trakov, still as a statue and gaze firmly attached to the wall, interjected. Mulling over his words, Elspen added a few lines to the sheet.

“Covering its wings then, maybe… Alright, given its description, its name and capability to speak, it is certainly plausible it could have had prior contact with humans, either here or in Esther. I was already sending this report to the capital, but I may just have to use military channels. Guardsmen Diolle, what did you speak of, any detail could be important.”

“Yes Captain. Well… we mostly spoke about my father’s business, er, he was a cloth merchant. Other than that, Mia asked me a lot about the Kingdom and its surroundings.”

Glowering, Elspen mindlessly rubbed her cheekbone. “I am aware of your father’s work. What did the dragon ask about the Kingdom?”

“Mostly about geography, Captain, and about what kind of people lived here. I only answered what is common knowledge, about the Kingdom, Esther, and basic landmarks, ma’am. She was most interested in lizardkin and the Dragonspine Mountains.”

Scratching on the parchment with the quill, Elspen responded without lifting her head. “The Spine… could be a problem…”

“Captain, may I give my opinion?” After gesturing for him to continue, Franz gathered his thoughts and spoke. “Based on her questions and reactions, Mia knows next to nothing about the world. She didn’t even know about the Olivar Kingdom, and just the existence of lizardkin seemed novel to her. My, er, opinion.. Well, she seemed very wary of me, and even bashful about her appearance. Honestly, she seemed like a normal girl, given everything.”

“Thank you, guardsman.” Looking up from her report, Elspen spoke to Jean and Trakov. “You spoke briefly with her, anything to say?”

Franz, quelle suprise! Maybe you’re getting better at speaking in front of the Captain. Jean thought a moment, with Trakov waiting for his superior officer to speak.

“Ma’am, when Sokola and I arrived, we did hear a few things. Firstly, the dragon said she was happy to find someone to speak with. Also… she mentioned a mother.”

“Hmm, Diolle mentioned what she’d said.”

Pulling another sheet of parchment out, the Captain wrote for a minute before standing from her desk. Walking to a squat bookshelf, she combed over the books for just a passing moment before removing one, and sticking her arm through where it had been. Retrieving a small ring, she walked back to her desk and sat down. Jean glanced and saw a seal, different from the standard insignia used by a City Guard Captain. After preparing everything, she folded the second parchment into three, dripped hot wax, and pressed the somewhat dusty ring onto it. She stood, walked to Jean and handed it to him.

The Captain may have appeared as a short and petite aging woman, but Jean still stiffened his shoulders reflexively, as did Franz. Despite being shorter than all three men, Elspen commanded a larger presence than anyone Jean had ever met. With her steely eyes and the fact that she was probably stronger than anyone else in the guard, even at her age, there was almost no one who didn’t address her with the utmost respect. With her next words, she sent Jean and Franz to one of those few who didn’t, and told another of the few to stay in the room.

“First Lieutenant, take Guardsmen Diolle to Magister Wixon. Show that seal only to the scribe and the Magister. He will take things from there. Sokola, stay here. We have things to discuss, including disciplinary matters. As to how you three should handle this, now that Diolle knows, we need to use the situation to our advantage. If this ‘Mia’ is truly a dragon, recently spawned by its ‘mother’, then I want you to maintain friendly relations with it. Martine, Diolle, dragons can be very possessive and fickle. From what you’ve said, it’s taken a liking to you, so breaking communication with it could be disastrous. You are dismissed.”

Working together maneuvering the solid oaken door, Jean and Franz slumped outside the room for a moment, neither doing a thing save catching their breath.

Mon dieu, c’est completement une-

“Will… he be alright alone?”

Jean eyed the pale Franz. Chuckling at himself for reverting his thoughts back to his native language subconsciously, he started walking.

“Surely not as dangerous as talking with a dragon by oneself, hm? Don’t worry, Trakov’s told me they’re old war buddies before.”

“Old war buddies? I can’t imagine anyone becoming buddies with that woman…”

“Address the Captain properly, Franz.”

“Sorry, sir. Captain Elspen didn’t seem too furious at the end, though? And we were told to continue talking with Mia?” Franz said, slouching slightly and looking more wilted than Jean had ever seen him.

“Look, we’re lucky if we get off with some extra work, a reduction in pay, and a probationary rank for the Second Lieutenant and I. And this has become serious, Franz. Whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances, anger Mia.”

“Sh-she wouldn’t hurt us, right?..”

“It’s not her I’m worried about, it’s the dragon she called ‘mother’. You’ll get some education now that you know, but the dragon that claimed its nest in the forest… well apparently she burned enough towns and cities to ash during the Great War 500 years back that some people still mention the Divine’s Pyre today.”

As he spoke, a small amount of mana surged up and left Jean’s body, causing the air to stir and Franz’s eyes to pull as wide as possible. At least he seems to finally grasp the gravity of the situation…

“What? I’ve… I’ve read that name somewhere before, and-and, there’s been a dragon with a Moniker living right next to us???”

“Yup, and it’s a Moniker that came from a human culture, as well. You know how rare that is. But that’s what we’re dealing with. What you’re dealing with, I might stress. So as long as we’re careful, and don’t piss off the daughter of a 500 year old nightmare, we’ll be fine.”

Jean managed a grin, slapped his friend on the back, and walked into the single common room of the first floor. Franz followed him, not saying a word, as Jean apologized to Dels at the main desk and walked out the front door in the direction of Draughton’s Royal Mage Hall, a few streets over.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the two young men had left the room, Aida sat back down at her desk and waved her hand for Trakov to approach. Finally moving, Trakov walked up to the desk, shoulders sagging and face seemingly older than his age would imply.

“Aida…”

“It’s done Trakov, leave it. I’m sending this report straight to Baralis. The sods in the capital can handle the big picture implications. The Mages there will get all excited, as I can imagine Magister Wixon will, so I’d wager they’ll give us unofficial orders for you three to maintain contact with this Mia. Past that, it’s all wait and see.”

“... Thank you, Aida. I really can’t say it enough, but this was my mistake, I didn’t stop Franz. He’s my responsibility…”

Sighing, Elspen’s face softened just a touch as she looked at her subordinate, who’d she had known for 20 some-odd years now.

“This dragon. It has human features, looks like a woman?”

“Yes, it looks human enough to pass, like I was say-”

“Is it attractive? To a young man like Franz?”

Pursing his mouth, Trakov scratched his spiky stubble before responding.

“Eh, I’m not sure. If it were a human, I’d say it look like any other young woman around.”

“Not a beauty, but not ugly, then? Well, maybe your taste is a bit skewed..”

Trakov crossed his arms at the remark, and got one of the Captain’s rare smiles, tight and slightly unnatural on her face. Sighing suddenly, Elspen’s face reverted to its usual severe visage.

“He still takes too much after his father, damn him. A few years here, under your guidance, won’t be enough with that boy I suppose.”

“He.. Franz has changed since he got here, though. You remember how it was, his first day as a guard.”

“Heh. Divine’s mercy, that was bad. I’m relying on you to watch after him still, understand? Even more now. And.. I suppose keep a closer eye on the First Lieutenant. I’m getting old, Trakov.”

“You and me both,” Trakov interjected, the ghost of a smile on his face.

“It’s inevitable, afterall. I made Martine my First Lieutenant for a reason, though. When I’m too feeble to lift a sword, someone will have to take over, and until now everything Jean’s done has been efficient, intelligent, and proper. He’s generally well liked by the guards, and he’s, well, a Traveler. But with all this…”

“You’re doubting him, I know. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, this doesn’t change that.”

“I’m doubting you too, Trakov. Hells… you’re doting on those two too much. I never took you for some soft hearted father.”

“Father? Don’t joke like-”

“It’s what you’ve become these past few years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not reprimanding you for it, they need some guidance, Franz especially.”

Both figures were still for a moment, staying silent. When the Captain spoke again, she’d reverted to a formal tone.

“In light of everything, the three of you must still receive some sort of punishment. Let me finish- and I am also partially responsible. I’ve been turning a blind eye to Franz’s activities too much. For you and First Lieutenant Martine, pay will be docked, and the two of you will be on unofficial probation. Guardsmen Diolle will get latrine duty until I change my mind, which will officially be due to his excessive drinking and sleeping around. That will be all until I get word back from the capital.”

“Isn’t that…”

“Light? Don’t get me wrong, Lieutenant, more will come in the future for you three. But I cannot strip either you or the First Lieutenant of your ranks, not now. And Franz is needed for this whole situation to work, as he’s already on good terms with the dragonspawn.”

“Not now? Even if you stripped both the First Lieutenant and I of our positions, you could promote Second Lieutenant Dorin to First, and find two sergeants to temporarily act as Second Lieutenants?”

Trakov thought he glimpsed a brief flash of worry on his Captain’s face, but it left so quickly he wasn’t sure.

“Things are… happening, Lieutenant. I’ve spoken with Magister Wixon and some colleagues in the Capital, and something is changing.”

“What, with Esther?”

“No, those bastards are as always, although they could cause us some trouble if they see an opportunity. They’d certainly have a reason to. No, things north of the Spine are getting bad. Worse than usual.”

“I thought it was just the Duchy skirmishing with Rolland again?”

North of the Dragonspine Mountains: the Duchy of Oremis, the Kingdom of Rolland, and the Kingdom of Grennos, were the three human nations in the northern part of the hourglass-shaped Enta continent. Trakov had grown up in Grennos, and had seen the near-constant fighting that occured between the three countries, although he’d thought it was no worse than usual this time around.

“It was just that for a few months, but there are whispers that of nearly all of the mercenary companies on the continent are being bought up.”

“And? I would have expected that?”

“Well… it’s not exactly public knowledge yet, but Grennos is hiring mercenaries as well. On top of that, the Duchy has hired companies from the Spiral Isles.”

Trakov processed what she had said carefully. If… if that were true, and Grennos planned to join the war, things could go south fast, and quite literally as well. The three human nations warred between themselves frequently, in any combination they could care for, as each shared a border with the others. But the last time all three had been in the same war… Trakov had been in his teens, and his family had been driven out and left penniless after the Duchy of Oremis and the Kingdom of Rolland had defeated Grennos in a bloody, brutal war. If Grennos got involved on either side, there’d be countless refugees trying to get through the Spine Cities, clawing and scratching there way to get through the tunnel that connected north and south. The Spine Cities would likely let them go through… directly to Olivar. On top of that, food shortages… it was a headache to imagine the fallout.

“If they’re hiring from the Spiral Isles, then it might be true…”

The Captain nodded slightly, mulling over her thoughts. “Well, that’s not the last part. Apparently the Dullahans are taking offers to send out a company.”

“They are? Divine’s tits, it might just happen then.”

Dullahans, masters of metalworking and one of the few non-human races on the Hourglass Continent numerous enough to have a country of their own, lived on the hilly, ore-infested northern coast of Enta. Being fairly isolationist, Trakov had only ever heard of them sending out a company once every 10 years or so, and even then only a single company of metalclad warriors at a time. Most people who followed the wars in the north thought it was a way for them to demonstrate their strength and deter their neighbours, which Trakov agreed with. Well, Dullahans didn’t have any potential for offensive magic, but with bodies made from the strongest metal they could find, it wasn’t a mystery the neighboring kingdoms stayed away.

“Seems like the Duchy took too much after the last war with Rolland, and will probably be cut back down to size. As it stands, Grennos likely thinks the port the Duchy got for a ceasefire gives them too much access to trade with the Spiral Isles, and Rolland is happy to get help in taking it back.”

Trakov closed his eyes for a few seconds, then nodded. “And that means what for our punishment, ma’am?”

“Well, Lieutenant, if things progress like we expect in the north, small groups of scouts will likely be sent up to assess the situation. Olivar has cannot afford to let in the number of refugees we suspect will come down, even if we have the largest foodstuffs on the continent. I’ll need to send a few guards who are in the Scouting Corps’ reserve.”

“I understand, Captain. You will need someone experienced and able to blend in?”

“Indeed. I also believe it would likely help some younger guards mature some.”

Trakov nodded, unsure how to feel. On one hand, they’d likely be going into a warzone, or at least near one, and they’d have to travel as civilians to get through the Spine Cities quietly. Still, Elspen was right about what she’d said.

“Understood, Captain.”

“That’s it for now, Lieutenant. You know your responsibilities. Of course, everything just now is strictly between us, and will stay that way.”

“Yes ma’am.” Saluting, Trakov left the room, feeling he’d aged by a few years just today.

Going north of the Spine… Well, I left during a war, only makes sense I’d come back to one.

Pushing his personal thoughts aside, Trakov left the City Guard’s main building, and focused on the issues at hand.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean and Franz pushed through the doors of the Royal Mage Hall, Draughton Branch. Squinting through the dusty, dimly lit room, Jean quickly approached the elderly man sitting behind the creaking desk built into the back of the building.

“Sir, Captain Elspen has sent us here to speak with the Magister. It’s urgent, and I have this.”

Jean placed the letter in front of the old man, stirring a bit of dust about as it landed. The ancient scribe, whose face had wrinkled and sagged enough to conceal his eyes, reacted slowly to the quick introduction, looking down at the sealed parchment. As he saw the wax insignia, his toothless mouth dropped slightly, and Jean thought he could even see the man’s eyes underneath his raised brow.

Without a word, the scribe held the seal under a beam of sunlight that had somehow found its way into the room, and muttered a few unintelligible words. Then, without warning, he waved one hand through the air haphazardly, as Jean felt a slight pull. A yellow and orange light appeared where his hand had been, fixed midair as the cloudy manifestation of mana leisurely swam in a circle. Once again, the man muttered a few words, waited for the spell to ripple slightly in the air, and then dispersed the cloud. Handing the letter back to Jean, he motioned him away and pointed to a closed door that led deeper into the Mage Hall.

“Uh, thank you.”

Jean opened the door, which was much lighter than the Captain’s, and led the eerily silent Franz down the cramped hallway, past a few closed doors to the one at the end, marked with a dull plaque that simply read: MAGISTER.

For the second time today, Jean knocked. A voice acknowledged him, and he entered with Franz. The two men were met with a small study, with one large bureau at its center, surface stacked high with books and parchment. Around it, every wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookshelves, full of tomes of all colors, many of which were placed the wrong way. They took a step towards the desk, before seeing two people Jean recognized behind it.

A young woman sat crouched over parchment, carefully writing something Jean guessed he wouldn’t have understood even if he’d been reading it right-side-up. With deep purple hair almost reaching the ground, spectacles precariously placed on her nose, and a frail build, Jean recalled she was the Magister’s assistant, Lunia.

Leaning over her shoulder, a man with a bald head and a fastidiously trimmed white beard watched her write without looking up. In a set of flowing grey-white robes lined in red, Magister Wixon wasn’t nearly as old as the scribe at the front, though Jean thought he was probably in his seventies.

After a few attempts at clearing his throat politely, Jean coughed as loud as he could, succeeding in gaining at least one of the mages’ attentions. Magister Wixon looked up, squinting over the pile of papers on the desk at Jean and grunted.

“Magister Wixon, the Captain sent us here. I have this letter for you.”

Snatching the offered letter from Jean’s hand, the old Magister took a look at the seal and tutted. Pulling a stool up to the desk, he sat down, raised one hand and pushed a stack of papers to the side. Neither Magister nor assistant seemed to notice the mountain of papers that cascaded onto the floor, scattering about and joining those that had already been there. After opening and reading the parchment, he hummed happily to himself.

“Well, Franz, is it? Seems you’ve been causing trouble.”

Startled out of his earlier stupor by the crash of papers going everywhere, Franz now just appeared worried to Jean.

“Uh, sir, what am I here for?” Franz eyed the purple-haired mage yet to raise her head, and the Magister laughed loudly, suddenly all smiles.

“Don’t worry lad, she may have purple hair, but she’s not about to rip the mind out of that cranium of yours! Nothing so barbaric, I can promise you. My precious granddaughter isn’t the foremost mindmage in the Kingdom for noth-”

With a loud screech, the so-called foremost mindmage in the Kingdom backed her chair into Wixon’s side, nearly knocking him from his perch on the stool.

“Um… your granddaughter?”

“Don’t humour him, it’ll only accelerate the senility. Master, they need binding runes for the blonde one, right?”

Shooting a pitiful look at his expressionless assistant, Wixon decided to keep his reply to a nod.

“Then I’ll prepare it. Master, get off the stool-” Lunia pointed at Franz “-you, sit down. You’ll need to be still while I inscribe them into your arm.”

“Hold on, wait, what?”

“Would you like them somewhere else? This spell is already very expensive, so that would be extra.”

Jean directed the stuttering Franz to the stool, hand on his shoulder to push him along.

“Calm down, Franz, its not painful or dangerous or anything of the sort. Captain Elspen, Trakov, and I have all done it. It’s necessary for all those who know about the dragon nest.” With a placating smile, Jean sat Franz down on the stool and added a reassuring lie, “And don’t worry, you’ll get used to these two as well.”

Settled down some, Franz eyed Lunia as she pulled a fresh quill from the bureau, one with a purple and pink feather.

“As long as they explain what they’re doing to me.”

Magister Wixon, having regained his cheer, put his arm around Franz’s shoulders as Lunia grabbed his elbow, rolling back the sleeve.

“This, lad, is the highest level binding spell you can get! Given the secretive nature of the information, everyone who knows something has this spell inscribed on their skin. The runes can sense your intent to share the information, and even sense if others hold knowledge of the dragon! That means, of course, one can speak with others who know, but not with those who are clueless. It truly is a magnificent spell, the runes are so exquisitely crafted that only the foremost mindma-”

“As the only dedicated mindmage in the Kingdom, I had asked you stop saying that to people. And you, keep your arm still, I’m starting.”

Franz froze up as Lunia leaned over his arm, colorful quill in hand and eyes full of concentration. Making contact with his skin, the quill’s tip dragged lightly yet carefully, leaving swirling circular marks, interconnected and in the same deep purple as Lunia’s hair.

“Uh, what happens if I tell someone who doesn’t know?”

“Hmm? Who knows. No one has ever managed to get that far. If the spell senses the intent to reveal any information, you’ll get a headache that’ll only get worse until you’ve given up!”

Jean saw Franz’s eyes become slightly hallowed as he slumped his shoulders, arm unmoving in the vice grip of Lunia’s free hand. I feel a bit bad for him at this point… I guess I’ll try to distract him?

“Magister, I wanted to ask, why is Lunia the only mindmage in the kingdom? Are they really that uncommon?”

Wixon gave Jean a toothy grin, more than happy to talk about his profession more.

“Well lad, an affinity with mind magic is fairly uncommon, yes. But it’s also quite a versatile field! You can learn rune-binding, telepathy, contract spells, mind control, mana-sharing, and there are a ton of uses for it in torture! Or so I hear.”

Franz looked up at the old mage with a horrified expression. Wixon, noticing him, laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Much of what I just mentioned is illegal in most places, lad. Rune-binding is perfectly legal and safe! At least with a proper mindmage like Lunia here!”

Jean coughed awkwardly, unsure if he should keep talking or shut up. Choosing the former, he went on, “I see, I think. I suppose we’re lucky to have her here then.”

“Yes, yes, very much so! Before I dragged Lunia to Draughton as my assistant, I was doing all of the rune-binding myself. I don’t think anyone enjoyed it very much.” Giving a merry laugh, the Magister clapped Franz’s shoulder a few times for emphasis.

“Er, how’d you do that? You’re not a mind mage, right?”

Happy that Franz seemed distracted from the violet lines covering half his forearm, Jean told the Magister he was also a bit curious, as he’d been promoted to officer in the guard and given the runes by Lunia as well.

“Well, my affinity is with fire, but I dabbled with mind magic in my youth, simple curiosity. Learned a few basic spells, even created a shoddy rune-binding formula! Once that’d come to light, I was assigned as Magister of Draughton - as I was happily self-employed at the time - and had to do it all myself. Your black-haired friend in the guard used to always complain about getting headaches while reading, talking or even thinking about dragons, but I’ve come to think of that as another feature of the old spell.”

“Ah… I see.” Jean gave Wixon a polite smile. God I’ve forgotten how much he can talk.

“Magister, if that’s the case, are there many people who know about the dragon nest?”

Delighted that Franz seemed to want him to talk, Wixon stroked his beard and tried to remember.

“Only a few.. Hmm, I believe it was Captain Elspen, the three junior officers of the City Guard, Lunia, and myself? Lunia’s been taking care of it, so who knows?”

As he spoke, a purple glow started emanating from the scripts drawn into Franz’s forearm. The light grew in intensity for a moment, then disappeared entirely. When Jean looked at Franz’s arm, the skin was as it had been before Lunia had started.

“It is done. And it is as Master Wixon says, except the Tiller family also knows. I believe all three of them.”

“The Tiller family??? L-Like the one that owns the farms by the forest?”

“You are correct, it seems you are acquainted then. They are paid to keep wanderers from entering the forest, and to keep cows for the dragon to eat, if necessary. Actually, how did you find out about the dragon? Did you wander through their land?”

Franz turned a shade red, and then one deeper as Jean answered, holding back a smile.

“Franz is, uh, particularly acquainted with the Tiller’s daughter.”

Lunia nodded thanks, idle curiosity sated, as Magister Wixon chuckled and stroked his beard. Franz, for his part, abruptly stood up and turned to leave. Jean allowed himself to be led out as Magister Wixon muttered “youth, huh” in a nostalgic way, and closed the door midway through the old man asking his assistant if she had a boyfriend yet.

Fucking dragons. Jean idly thought as the two secret-bearers exited the Mage Hall and walked onto the cobbled street. That’s all of that I can take for the day.

“First Lieutenant, permission to go get a drink?” Franz asked, smiling weakly and rubbing his arm.

Jean nodded, and followed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was in a good mood laying about the den, belly full and watching the sun descend behind the stone walls. Talking with someone else - and a human as well! - had lifted my spirits, and I’d stalked my lunch with a bit too much vigor afterwards. I at least felt like I was adjusting to eating a dead animal without preparation, and it helped that the yellow-eyed deer that populated the surrounding forest were frickin’ tasty.

Well, some things were still off. I had eaten the entire beast, and I was pretty sure it weighed more than me. My stomach was about the same size as normal, and I knew from the past few months that I wouldn’t really need more food for about a week.

When in doubt, blame magic. I’d also considered, When in doubt, blame God and his interns, but I wasn’t sure if they could hear my thoughts. It was probably better to be safe with that one.

Settling down to sleep my cozy nook in the oak tree, I’d just closed my eyes when it happened. A wind, a swell of hot air ripped through me, brushing underneath my skin and paving wild paths throughout my body. Exhaling in shock, a small part of the wind escaped through my open mouth. After a few minutes were spent huddled in the tree, completely still, the feeling receded and left only a vague yet comforting veil inside of me, connected with something else in the enclosure. Descending gently through the branches, I reached dirt and gazed at the other end of that connection.

My sibling's egg, reflecting red and orange in the twilight, rested among the tall grass as always, unchanged save for in the realm of magic.