"You're siblings?" Aidan asked in near disbelief, but then shut his mouth with pause, "Of course you are..." His shoulders drooped and his eyes clouded over. "I take it they're here for you?"

Syra nodded and her eyes softened at Aidan's meekness, "Valen sent for them."

"Of course he did. I'll leave them to you, then." Aidan spun away to find himself a comfortable boulder a safe distance away.

"Are you alright?" Cassius asked after Aidan excused himself.

"Yeah, you scared them off real good," she said with a subtle awkwardness, "Thanks."

They stood there a moment in silence. Countless words needing said but left to simmer behind their tongues.

Syra stared up at them—at the young adults that towered above her now. At their horns brushing the canopy. At their scales darkened and shiny from a fresh molt. Even Cassius' chin horn graced his snout like a distinguished goatee.

"You got big," Syra spoke finally in forced familiarity.

"And you're still puny," Petra said, foregoing any formalities. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A lot...it's hard to explain."

"Bashta!" Petra spat. Her booming voice caused Syra to jump.

"Petra," said Cassius, attempting to calm her.

"Nine years!" Petra continued, ignoring him, "Nine years we waited to hear from you. For a letter, a raven, anything to let us know you were alright."

"Wow, Petra. Didn't know you cared so much," Syra said with genuine surprise.

"Grandmaw Vega almost got shot looking for you." Petra roared, baring her teeth.

Guilt stole the words from Syra's throat and she looked away from her sister's glare.

"Why?" Cassius asked in a broken tone. "Why'd you just up and leave? Why didn't you tell us where you were? What you were doing? How can we hear from Valen, but not you?"

Syra chewed her lip.

"You probably didn't fit her agenda," Aidan said from his rock.

Syra bit her lip harder, "I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Petra barked. "I don't want it. Cassius may value your hot air, but I sure don't."

"Don't you get it?" Syra barked back, "Marrak could have ears anywhere. And I'll be damned if I let anymore of you die."

"Bashta! You just didn't want to."

"Excuse me?"

"When you want something, you go and get it. You wanted to play mage? Congrats, you did it. You wanted a new father? Valen seems quite proud of you. You wanted—" she waved her arm at Aidan and paused, "...I don't know what that is. But that's just how you are. You get what you want without regard for anyone else. You could have raven-ed yourself over to give some explanation, but you didn't. So, you must've not cared enough to—"

"I was scared, alright?" Syra admitted, holding Petra's gaze, "I was young and just...scared. Scared of Marrak, scared of not having Papa anymore, scared of being Vayguard," and then her eyes fled from the same glare that met her on the ledge that night, "scared of being somewhere I wasn't wanted."

"Wasn't wanted?" Petra repeated in pained articulation. "They bowed to you—gave you their fire."

Syra restrained her eye roll, "I wasn't talking about them."

"You snubbed your nose at all of us, running away like a damn cave rat. Even now, nine years later, you run from those puny humans when you could easily kill—"

"Because I'm not you, Petra. I'm not 'bite first, bow later'. And I'm certainly not the strong, fearless leader that the clan needs."

"Vayguards aren't fearless. We just do something about it." The searing edge of her voice cooled to simmering frustration. "Did I want father to die? No. Did I want to manage the clan's chaos while you were off knocking horns with twadwattle over there? No. But I did. Because sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do."

Petra's frill quivered as she bridled her temper. But her focused breaths blinded her to the metal barb clenched in Syra's hand.

On trained feet, she lunged at Petra, catching her off-guard. With a twist she thrusted the blade up in between the narrow belly scales of Petra's chest. Petra flinched but Syra held the blade steady against her tender skin.

"Do you know how humans kill dragons?" she snarled low, pressing the blade slowly forward. "Have you actually seen them slain by human hands? Seen it up close? Smelled their blood on the dirt?" Her eyes darkened and bore into Petra's, "'Cause I have. And it stains just as bad as theirs."

Syra blinked back the memories of the war out West, "Did I want to practice slaying my own kin day after day? Or bite my tongue when children put on plays about the 'Monsters of the Mountain'? No. But I did, because I had to. Because Papa's dying words were to follow this blasted stone." Syra tugged the pearl out from under her shirt and shoved it in Petra's face.

Petra's gaze wavered at the small stone, "Father gave you that?"

"Yes. And I've spent this whole time trying to figure it out because it's the only way I can fight back."

She let the sword fall to her side and just stared at the soft-white ball in her hand, "I didn't ask for this. I never wanted this."

"None of us did," Cassius said, pressing his large forehead against hers.

The scent of smoke and stone filled her nose and gripped her chest with its flashes of home. The dusty firepit with its leftover gristle, the wet stones of the hot springs, even the musk from moss bedding used too long. Had she really forgotten? She clawed at his snout with stubby nails as the tears welled up despite her straining.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "I know I should've, but I just...I'm sorry."

"I know," he chuffed and grinned at his sister's touch.

Aidan watched with a tight chest as Cassius accepted Syra back without as much as a sneer. He just sat there letting her bawl, snot and all, with a rather contented look on his face.

"So, are we going or not?" Aidan asked when the waterworks were over. "We only have a few hours of light by the look of things."

Petra glared over at him, "Like hell you're coming with us. Valen said nothing about needing a human's help."

"I doubt that. As Altaira's eldest prince, it's my duty to see this journey through."

"No, your duty is to stay in your little castle and let dragons handle dragons. You've done enough damage."

His back straighten and he leered back, "Your family wasn't the only one torn apart by that monster, you know. I deserve a chance to make my brother's death mean something."

"You deserve nothing!" Petra yowled, snarling in his face. Her throat glowed as she growled, "You humans treated us like guard dogs, then spat in our faces the moment you couldn't control one. And he wasn't even Montari."

Aidan grimaced at the heat radiating from Petra's throat but stood firm. Fury blazed behind her eyes, but it was a candle compared to the bloodlust he faced from the wyrms overseas.

"Petra, enough," Cassius said. "He's coming."

"What? Why?"

"Because Valen did invite him. It was just in the letter you didn't read because you were too worried about Syra."

"I was not worried," she said with an indignant huff, turning away from Aidan and letting her tail 'accidently' knock him off balance.

Cassius let it pass and returned to Syra, "So, how are we supposed to find these shards? Valen said they were scattered."

"We fly, foghead." Petra said, stretching her wings.

"No!" Syra said, "No, that will attract too much attention." She rummaged through her pack and took out the spelltags, "These. Valen said to use these. They're supposed to 'make the trip easier'...somehow."

"Um, alright?" Cassius said hesitant, standing next to Petra.

"Hold it! What exactly do these things do—"

Petra's retreat was slower than Syra's hands, and she looked down to see the tag pressed firmly against their chests.

The tags shivered under Syra's hands and latched onto their scales. Light spread from the rusty thumbprint, lighting up the border of scrawled runes in turn.

"What the hell is this?" Petra asked panicked, but her voice was cut off.

Shooting from the tag, veins of light sprawled out across their bodies until they were consumed by light. Their shapes wavered, then shrank, and condensed. When the glow faded, two humans sat—fully clothed, to Syra's amazement—in their place.

Syra could only laugh at the incomprehensible noises and screams that left Petra's horror-stricken face.

"What in Draco's name did you do?" Petra cried, scrambling on the ground on all fours and examining, with great disdain, her frail and scale-less body.

"Yes, Syra, what did you do?" Cassius asked, staring wide-eyed at his long and tender fingers.

"It was a shapechange spell," Syra said under her breath, mostly to herself.

"A what?" Petra asked trying to stand.

"'Dragon', 'human'...now it makes sense!" Syra beamed in her realization, "Valen knew the sight of dragons outside their territory would raise suspicion, so he turned you into something that wouldn't." She looked down at the twins struggling to stand and walk bipedal. At their slender frames that contradicted their typical bulk. At the copper and blonde locks that framed their faces instead of scales, "Human."

"Change me back!" Petra demanded, her loose curls a tousled mess from her flailing about.

"I can't," Syra said plainly, "I don't know the right runes, let alone the correct nota—"

"Change. Me. Back," Petra growled and grabbed Syra up by the collar, standing a full head taller even with her feet dangling.

But Syra held back a giggle at the light freckling across Petra's nose.

Even her snoutspots are there!

"Put her down, Petra," Cassius said, taking a couple steady steps towards them. "She already said she couldn't, so let's go collect these shards then we'll ask Valen to change us back."

"Fine," said Petra with a snarl. She unhanded Syra and shuffled away as quickly as her wobbly legs would allow. "Let's get this over with. I'm tired of these spindly legs already."

They followed Petra across the clearing when Syra stopped at the cart, "What about this?"

"Ugh. What about it?" Petra asked.

"It's filled with magical items," she said, sorting through the boxes and jars, "herbs, salves, charms...who knows what would come in handy."

"Leave it," Petra said, "It'll just weigh you down and I am not slowing down for y—" Petra halted mid-step with her eyes locked on the shining array of steel weaponry. "What are those?"

"I thought you didn't like human things." Syra teased, grinning at Petra's sudden fixation.

Still a sucker for the shinies, I see.

"Don't touch!" Cassius said when Petra examined the rows of hilts with curious hands. "They're not yours."

"Property of Edgewood's Apothecary and Cure Alls," said Syra, ignoring him and reading the sign attached, "If found, please return to Lady Baba. You can keep the items, I just really like this cart."

"You were saying?" Petra asked, picking a gold-inlaid hilt from the rack.

"I said, nooo," Cassius reached out to stop her, but her eyes lit up as she pulled the glossy blade of a long sword from its sheath.

"Oh, yes!"

Cassius rolled his eyes, "Oh, for Erd's sake. You don't even know how to use it."

"No, but Syra does," Petra said, eyeing Syra's sword with cautious disgust.

"You can barely walk," Syra rebutted, "let alone swing correctly."

"Then teach them," Aidan said dryly.

"Why me? You're way more skilled than I am, Captain."

"And you're their sister. You're also the one that put them in that form in the first place and they're going to need some form of protection."

"Ugh, fine." Syra conceded with a huff, "Pick your weapon and let's go. Aidan, hook Leif up to the cart. We're taking it back to Edgewood."

"Why?"

"There's a Kesh Raza there. This Lady Baba is probably a Green Witch and might know something."

"Did someone say 'Baba'?" A small voice came from somewhere in the cart, causing Petra to jump.

"Who's there?" Petra asked, raising her new toy with shaky arms.

"Hold on," Syra said, "that sounds familiar."

"It had better!" the voice called again, "I saved your life you know! Now if you could just let me out of this box, I'll call it even!"

"Box? What box? There's like, hundreds of them."

"This box!" A few shelves up to the left, a wooden box with metal latch shook with thumping.

"Wait," Cassius said grabbing Syra's hand, "You don't know what's actually in there."

"Yes, but it did save me earlier."

Cassius hesitated before retracting his hand. All four grew tense as Syra flicked the latch open and lifted the lid.

"Oh, thank you thank you!" With the whir of tiny wings, a blur shot from the box and tackled Syra's face, clinging there like a bug on glass. "Those horrible, ugly men caught me when I was looking for sundrops, and shoved me right in that box, they did!"

"Is that so?" Syra asked a bit stunned, mouth muffled by the little green fae.

"Aye!" It said, drawing away to look at Syra with its round, black eyes, "Real brutes they were! All curses and yelling, never a kind word at all! And when I heard you offer to help them, I had to warn you, else they do something terrible to you!"

"Oh yes, thank you for that," Syra said with some embarrassment, "I wouldn't have noticed otherwise."

"Of course, milady!" It said with a proud grin, "And now that we're settled, I hope to learn the names of my rescuers?"

"Syra," she said, motioning to herself and them the others, "Those are my siblings, Petra and Cassius, and the broody one over there is Aidan."

The fae flitted around to each of them, studying their faces, and paused at Aidan.

"Hm," he scrunched his small, green face as their black eyes bore into each other.

"What?" Aidan pulled his head back and resisted the urge to smack the fae from his face.

"Nothing, you're just bigger than usual."

"Excuse me—"

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintances," it said, returning to Syra and bowing, the bouquet of white fluffs that was its hair wafting over its face. "You may call me Leon."

"Now," Leon said, adjusting his leafy tunic, "You mentioned visiting a lady by the name of, Old Lady Baba?"

"I don't know if she's old or not, but that's the name left on the cart," said Syra.

"Oh, she's old," Leon chuckled, "but I'm sure she would appreciate it being returned."

"You know her?"

"Oh yes!" he said with pride, "She's been a friend and travel partner for a long time now. She's the reason I know this land as much as I do," he paused in sudden realization, "but she's also the reason I got captured...never mind that last bit!" He waved his tiny hands dismissively, "It was my fault anyways."

"Could you take us to her?" Aidan asked.

"Oh, yes yes! Certainly!" said Leon, flitting excitedly around the four of them. "She's probably wondering where I went, actually. Best I show myself before she sends out the hound."

"It's a bit of a hike from here, however," he said, stopping to hover by Syra's head. "I know a stop-over, but it will still take a full day on foot."

"Then we better get going." Aidan said, whistling for Leif. "You two," he motioned to Cassius and Petra, "climb up on the cart. We'll travel faster without you falling on those legs."

Petra took the command with an indignant sneer, but Cassius stood still.

"No."

Aidan shot him a questioning leer, surprised by his audacity.

Cassius moved to the cart's side and placed a steadying hand on its frame, "We'll never learn to walk properly if we just ride along. It might be slower at first, but not for long."

The two stared at one another unblinking while Aidan tossed Cassius' words around in his head.

"Fine," Aidan said, hitching the stallion to the cart, "Just try to keep up. Syra!"

"Yes?" she asked with a start, her muscles wanting to snap to attention.

"Get on the the cart with Leon. You need to rest."

"I'll be fine," she said and started to take the lead, but was halted by Aidan's firm hand on her shoulder.

"We need to get those shards as soon as possible, and I will not be held up by unnecessary injuries." His narrow eyes bored into her, "Now get on the cart."

"Yes, sir," she said with soft sarcasm.

Aidan watched with flat face as she spun on a heel and mounted the cart.

"Lover's quarrel?" Leon asked in Syra's ear.

"Don't get me started."

"Leon!" Aidan called, "We await your directions."

"Ah, yes!" The fae left Syra's shoulder and flew to the small trail through the trees. "This will lead you back to the main road. From there it's a straight shot to Landelle, then on to Edgewood."

"Good," Aidan said taking the reins, "Let's go, boy." He clicked his tongue and led his horse to follow after Leon.

***

Indigo sprawled across the horizon by the time they reached the stretches of farmland that bordered Landelle. The twins had grown sure-footed and steady, and walked with a confident gait just behind Aidan. All the while, Cassius' gaze focused on the back of Aidan's head and he grew tired of the pressure.

"Do you have something to say, Cassius?" he asked without turning around.

Cassius paused to choose his words, "What happened between you two? You and Syra? I've been trying to decide what about you is making her so uncomfortable, but I just can't put a claw on it."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Because we don't want to incite any of her blubbering," Petra said, annoyed by the cloud of negativity that followed them.

"Then either ignore your curiosity or accept the consequences of your question." He, too, was aware of Syra's foul mood, but also knew it was better to let it diffuse than to stir it up.

"She's my sister," Cassius warned."You can't expect me to ignore that she's upset."

"Yet another reason to ask her," Aidan said, growing more irritated.

"I could, but I trust you less, so—"

"Kiirashi," Syra spoke dryly in Draconic, staring off at the rolling hills of planted fields.

Cassius and Petra became oddly quiet. Dragons tyically mated for life, a process that resulted in emotional and even psychic bonds that lasted centuries. The loss of one's mate almost always left a physical scar on the surviving mate. So to severe that bond intentionally was seen as a terrible betrayal and highly frowned upon.

"It's fine," Syra continued, "Humans really are just...different." She hadn't been left with a scar, but her chest felt like it had been clawed out and her heart beat weaker because of it.

I wonder if Papa felt like this when Mother died, she had thought several times.

"That's an understatement," Petra growled under her breath.

"Hey, wait!" Syra pushed her thoughts aside as her eyes caught something in the distance. "Look, up there!" She stood up in the cart and pointed down the road a ways, "There's a carriage just up ahead. Do you see it?"

"I can't see shit with these eyes," Petra said, squinting unsuccessfully.

"They look stuck," Syra said. "I think one of the wheels broke off. Maybe we could help them."

"Careful now," Leon warned. "That got you in trouble last time, remember?"

"Yes, but they could take us to Landelle or give us shelter for the night. One even looks like an old man, from what I can tell. Plus, what are the chances of running into more bandits?"

"Outside of the Inner Ring? High," Aidan cautioned. "You're not in the city anymore."

"Alright, then I'll go talk to them and you back me up if things go wrong."

As they neared, they saw a woman and older man, plainly dressed, leave the carriage and start waving them over.

"See! They're even asking for help," Syra said.

"It could easily be trap," said Aidan. "The moment you get near them, they'll grab you and take anything of value. Father is constantly getting ravens complaining about the increasing dangers on the roads." He looked over to Petra for her opinion.

"Don't look at me. I didn't want you coming to begin with, so the less humans the better."

"I'll go with you," Cassius said to Syra, ignoring Petra and putting a hand on the hilt of his saber, "I need to practice anyway."

But Aidan grabbed his shoulder, "Fighting bandits isn't practice, it's battle. I don't care if they're human, do not underestimate them."

"Is that an order, Captain?" Syra sneered, hopping down from the cart.

Aidan's lip twitched, "Don't start."

"What? I'm banished remember?" A shadow stung her forced smile. "Your orders don't apply anymore."

With that, she trotted over to the strangers without another word.

Aidan let out a long sigh, "Damn it, Syra..."

"It's alright, I got her," Cassius said, following after her.

Syra and Cassius approached the carriage with friendly faces, but remained cautious. Aidan and Petra kept close to the cart—to Petra's dismay of being left alone with the pale creature—and watched from a safe distance.

"Um, hello," Syra began, greeting the woman, "Are you two alright? We saw you waving and thought you could use some help."

"Oh my goodness, yes!" the woman said with a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much for stopping! We were on our way to Landelle when this darn wheel decided now was the perfect time to up and break." She chuckled to herself and waved an accusing hand at the wheel splintered off its axle.

"We tried to fix it ourselves," the older man said, shuffling with his cane, "but the two of us just aren't strong enough to lift up that carriage. If I were just a bit younger we wouldn't be in this situation." He grumbled at himself and Syra could see the frustration in his wrinkled eyes.

"Don't worry yourself, it's not a problem," Syra said, "I'm glad we happened along at the right time."

Sadness seemed to flicker across his face, but he nodded and pointed his cane at the wheel, "Snapped completely in two, it did. We managed to repair the most of it, but can't manage to put it back on."

"You think you could help me lift the cart while Dad slides the wheel into place? We'd be much obliged," the lady said, beckoning Syra to her by the edge of the cart.

"Certainly!" said Syra nodding to Cassius and grasping the cart firmly, "Just let me know when you're ready."

The woman and Cassius bent down for a tight grip on the cart, but only a whisper left her lips, "You need to leave."