Cardinal Guard Petra was sat within her office alone revising the mercenary contract that she had planned to Zephyria sign. With the boredom of editing a contract, again, she found her mind wandering. "What a tremendous pain in the tail. I save her life, and she extorts me as a reward? Unbelievable! I can't stand politics, but I suppose the chosen was right. We can use this to find out whoever keeps trying to frame me. And, to be fair to that damnable dragon, she didn't demand worse than a few guaranteed paychecks. I'm desperate enough for allies right now she could have demanded triple the pay, for the next year at that, and I would have still paid it. Could have gone a lot worse." She scoffed and laughed at herself, scornfully.
Petra was startled from her thoughts as the High Warlock entered her office, and casually locked the door behind himself. "I never understood why the justiciars gave up their names for their patron. Can't even greet the bastard properly." She thought to herself as he made his way in front of her desk.
"Cardinal Guard Petra. I believe we have something we need to discuss." He stated coolly. She took in his large, heavily armored body and wasn't nearly as intimidated she probably should have been. As he spoke she spotted the scar on his jaw that faded into his fur when he was at rest.
She carefully closed the contract book she had been working in, and pushed it out of view of the High Warlock. She leaned back in her chair, gestured for him to sit, and then crossed her arms. "Normally I'd be glad to see you, High Warlock. But I've been dealing with some bullshit, today. You'll have to pardon me being pretty fuckin' prickly."
The large man took off his sword and carefully set it down behind him, out of reach. He sat down in front of her and assured her, "I know. That's what I'm here to discuss."
Petra cocked an eyebrow and sat up. "You... know? What, exactly, do you know, High Warlock?" She said, suspiciously.
"I'm aware of the extortion you just faced at the claws of that dragon. I'm aware someone has been trying to get the dragon killed. And I'm aware that they've been attempting to frame you. Against my better judgement and wishes, I'm here to help you, Cardinal Guard Petra, with the problems you face." He said with that same uncomfortably even tone as before, his face a stoic mask.
"And how do you know all that, High Warlock? I just got back from the field, unless one of my guards reported straight to you, that's impossible." She bit back, trying to keep her tone as even as his was and failing.
"That is exactly what happened, Cardinal Guard. Some of your men are not loyal to you." The warlock stated once more in that flat tone. It was then his mask cracked. He sighed, ran a hand over his face in frustration, and then said, "Like you, Petra, I am not politically minded. Let me try again, this has gone poorly already."
"I have half the mind to arrest you where you stand, Justiciar. You come into my office, blatantly tell me that you're behind at least some of the corruption and deceit I've been facing, and then... what? I don't know what you're trying to do, other than confess and get arrested." Petra said, a snarl creeping into her tone as she was unable to keep her voice steady.
The man held his hands out in front of him as he gestured for peace. "Please understand something, Petra. From mortal to mortal, for a moment. I am a warlock, my patron decides my actions more than I do. There are many things where I do not have a choice in the matter, do you understand?" He said, with a slightly pleading tone.
"I do, Warlock. It's why I never became one. I refuse to hand my leash to someone I can't disobey if the situation calls for it." She snapped at him, causing him to just nod wearily.
"Indeed. So let me try again, because I must try again. Even if I am the wrong person to handle such a delicate topic." He said before taking a deep breath. "You have enemies, Cardinal Guard Petra. There is a dragon in our midst challenging your authority, disgracing you in public, and putting your town at risk. She doesn't just risk your town directly, but by what she represents. She is a disruptive force, breaking norms, changing rules, drawing the ire of powerful enemies, all while lifting those into power that should not be in power." He said. Petra noticed that his tone lacked the conviction of someone who truly believed his words.
The High Warlock gestured vaguely outside. "What you do not know is that the northern humans have a group they call 'The Heroes'. They actively hunt Zephyria and would happily burn Rannoch to the ground to get to her. They are coming, Petra. And you do not have the strength to stop them. They are the elite of the elite. The very best the humans can put forward. Do you understand what I'm saying, Petra?"
"You're saying if I don't have her killed, her enemies will destroy Rannoch." She stated angrily. Petra scowled and suddenly stood up, leaning over the larger man as he sat. "Since you seem so informed, do these supposed Heroes already know where she is?" She demanded of the High warlock.
He winced. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask that. This is the topic I had hoped to avoid, although I see now how I lead you right to it." He sighed. "My patron has their own reasons for wanting Zephyria either dead or gone. Preferably dead. My patron..." He looked at her apologetically. "Please, I'm only the messenger here, and a poor one at that." He averted his gaze from her eyes. "My patron says that if you do not assist in getting rid of the dragon more directly, it will inform the Heroes of her location and ensure she is killed one way or another."
Petra slammed a fist onto the table with a loud slam. "Who is your patron, warlock? I may not be a warlock but even I know this isn't how the Lord of Justice operates. Are you even one of her warlocks?" She growled out.
The man glanced down, "I used to be one of her warlocks, and I still serve in her halls and enforce her laws. For all intents and purposes I am still very much a Justiciar. But... I am not her warlock anymore. I am forbidden from saying who holds my pact now. I am sorry. Petra, I am a man of honor, of law. This blackmailing and underhanded tactics is against everything I stand for, and yet I cannot do anything but follow my orders. Forgive me, please." He began to beg near the end, the normally hard and stoic man breaking slightly.
Petra sat back down, crossed her arms, and glared daggers at the man she used to respect. "You come into my fucking office. You admit to turning my fucking men against me. You admit to a conspiracy to undermine the values of the Fists. Then, you threaten me and my fucking people? I'd be angrier if you weren't so fucking pathetic." She took a breath. "So, what's to stop me from just reporting you to the fists? This is all incredibly illegal, and as a man who gave up his very name to uphold the fucking law you should know that better than anyone." The man winced, her jab cutting deep.
"I have orders to intercept any messengers out of town, which I have already been doing. According to the messages that have been forged in your name, the dragon is known to be terrorizing the countryside and must be killed on sight. Even if you did get a message out, my patron has the influence to ensure nobody listens to it. And, should I not report in regularly, my patron will report the dragon's location to these 'Heroes' anyways. You are alone and backed into a corner, Petra. It really is best to just go along with my patron's wishes. Just let the dragon die, and this will all go away." He pleaded with her, his voice going quiet during those final words. Petra watched as he slowly drew into himself, the man she once respected as a fair and brave Justiciar resorted to manipulation and extortion.
"And what of afterwards, Warlock? Say I go along with your plan, what happens next? I might not handle politics very well, but even I can tell I know too much at this point. It's in your patron's best interest to have me killed once this is all over." Accused Petra, as she frowned in thought.
The High Warlock brightened up a little bit. "That's the good news, at least. Cooperate, and remain quiet, and my patron will ensure the Heroes have no reason to ever come here. War may be coming, but there's no need for Rannoch to lose any lives. The heroes will target the nearby city of Rheingau, and if the Great Patrons that call the nearby city home can slay the heroes then all is well. If Rheingau falls my patron has promised to ensure a smooth transition of power. Ideally you don't even notice a thing. No matter what you keep your position as a cardinal, your town is kept safe, and this entire war passes by you like a bad dream." He said in a way that Petra was sure was supposed to be comforting, but just came off as a lousy sales pitch.
Petra ran her fingers through the short fur on top of her head and sighed. "I value the safety of my people, High Warlock." She murmured.
The large, scarred, and miserable looking warlock smiled for the first time. "I knew you would understand, if given the chance. Together, we will protect Rannoch, whatever it takes."
Conall winced as the bandage was wrapped around his left hand a little too tightly and he had to tap the member of the Order and get their attention. "That's a little tight, lass. It's a burn, not an open wound." He said gently.
The member of the order that had been wrapping his hand nodded. "Apologies, esteemed warlock. I..." She looked embarrassed. "I allowed my mind to wander."
Conall let out a small, polite laugh. "Esteemed warlock? None of that! I was aspiring to be a member of the order, once. It just turned out I was better at taking lives than I was saving them. Just call me Conall."
The woman in the order's robes looked even more embarrassed. "Thank you, Conall. It can be hard to know where you stand with someone as special as you. I've actually never spoken to a warlock before, they're so rare here. I wasn't sure how to behave." She said, almost sultry.
As the woman finished getting the bandages on with the right pressure, Conall took a moment to look over his bandaged hand. The bandages were lightly soaked in some kind of healing ointment he wasn't familiar with that was supposedly good for burns. He noticed there was some kind of pain killer mixed in too, he could feel his hand mostly fine but the horrible ache that had been following him since that fight was gone.
He rolled his shoulders to loosen them up and said, "Is there anything I need to know about this ointment or the burns? For example, how long does a lightning burn like this take to heal?"
"Keep the bandages clean, and it should clear up in around a week, two at the maximum. Without the ointment? Weeks, likely. You had a lot of burns on your hand, but they were largely surface level. Painful, I imagine, but as long as you keep the area moist and clean it will heal without issue. If the bandages come off early, get soiled, or you feel any discomfort please come back and we'll look at it." She listed, almost mechanically. Then, as though coming out of a trance, she bit her lip slightly while looking at Conall. "And if you want to come back for... other reasons. I wouldn't say no to seeing you again sooner." She said coyly.
Conall coughed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I won't dance around the Great Patron in the room, lass. I have my eyes on a certain gentleman I've been traveling with, so I'm afraid I'm going to be returning here for medical reasons only. Apologies, healer."
The previously sultry woman held still like a statue, blinked, and then muttered. "A gentleman?" Her face shifted from blank confusion, to an actual head tilt, ending in an embarrassed look. Conall could practically watch the thoughts pass through the woman's head with how expressive she was being. "Oh." She muttered, still somewhat stupefied.
He awkwardly said, "Was there anything else I needed to consider regarding my burn before I leave?"
She thought about it for a moment. "Not that I can think of. Just come back here and have any of the other members check out your hand if you have any concerns. You might see some fur loss on your hand for a while, but it should grow back with time." She said, her almost trance like tone returning.
Conall shuffled out the door and left the order. Walking back to the stable where his patron and her chosen were residing, he couldn't help but think to himself. "What a terribly strange woman. When she talked about medicine it was like she was reading a book to me, not actually talking to me. And that awful flirting..." He chuckled to himself. "I bet Asher will get a laugh out of this whole mess, I can't wait to tell him about it. I hope I get to hear that little growl that he does as he laughs now. It's just like Zephyria's, and utterly adorable."
He fidgeted with his bandages, ensuring the odd woman actually secured them properly. "I hope he's not self conscious about it. I've been growing to love his more draconic side."
Zephyria stretched languidly within the stable she had been calling home for some time now. Whatever the mortal's had done that had numbed her pain had long since faded leaving her sore and able to feel as her wounds pulled at their scabs, threatening to tear. She was careful to not stretch too far, but really wanted to get a good intense stretch in to loosen up her sore muscles. "I wish I could go swimming again. Nothing compares to the soothing flow of water when I was at the bottom at that lake." She thought to herself.
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Stuck being forced to not only rest, but to wait on her companion's recovery, she carefully grabbed her enchanted took and laid down to begin reading it. "I hope Conall is handling the treatment that healing order is giving him comfortably. I didn't see his hand very clearly, but that burn seemed painful. And yet, I'm grateful he cast that spell. I would have gotten hurt even worse if he didn't sacrifice his health to save me, again. There must be something I can do to ensure I'm not hurt fighting so often." She thought regretfully.
As she laid there contemplating, her chosen scooted and shuffled his gear over so that he could lean against her hind leg as he worked, occasionally itching himself. As she flipped it open to where she left off, Asher looked at the now open pages, then at her, with a slightly perplexed expression on his face.
"I had thought you had been reading that book for many hours by now, Zephyria. Are you re-reading some parts?" He said, with interest in his voice.
Zephyria glanced between the book she had been reading and her chosen in confusion. She was only a clawful of chapters in and was beginning to work her way through the next one. "I don't know what you mean, little one. I'm reading at the same pace I always read... should I be further along?" She asked.
Asher looked at her awkwardly. "Ah, uh. No, not at all. It's good to read at your own pace. I'm sorry I said anything." He stammered out.
Zephyria curled around herself and bonked him with her muzzle, "It sounds like you're calling me a slow reader, little one. How far along would you be, if you had been reading it?" She asked, slightly self consciously.
Asher rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, then itched his arms again a little more vigorously. "A lot further in, probably. That said chapter six, right? I only read a little, but I finished the first two chapters in the store before I brought it to you and that only took me half an hour or so. But I had to do a lot of reading as a youth. I was a noble, remember? I had tutors and the like constantly forcing me to read complex texts, write letters, and the like. I'm not a good comparison."
"But, I'm still a slow reader? Even in comparison to the typical mortal that can read?" Zephyria said slightly sourly.
Asher nodded, still scratching his arms. "Damn I'm itchy for some reason." he mumbled before continuing. "I didn't mean to be rude, Zeph. But.. yea. You are. I thought you had read a lot, so I just assumed you would be like me. It's fine, really. Not like you or the book are going anywhere. That thing's enchanted to last an eternity and you'll live just as long. As long as you're enjoying it, that's what matters."
Zephyria rested her muzzle on his lap as she curled around him slightly, "I have read a lot, my chosen. But, I am entirely self taught. I already told you much of what I stole was aimed at mortal hatchlings. In truth, I could not read even a little before I began stealing those books. It was a blessing really, to be able to teach myself to read. To my understanding it is a skill very few dragons have, as not even my mother learned to read in her long life."
Asher nudged his gear to the side and out of the way, while beginning to stroke the top of her muzzle. "I never considered that you would be entirely self taught. That's... that's incredibly impressive Zeph. Most mortals wouldn't be able to to do that. Not with just a random assortment of children's books, at least." He said gently. Zephyria purred slightly at his praise.
Asher scratched at his arms, and then swore slightly under his breath. "You know, I could help teach you to read better, when we have time. Not just read, but I can pass along all of the lessons I learned when it came to the topic. Themes, analysis, that sort of thing. It can feel very rewarding to figure out some of the deeper meanings of a work."
Zephyria smiled slightly at the thought of that, but before she said anything she smelled blood. She lifted her head and sniffed, then looked down at her mortal's arm and saw it bleeding slightly. Asher followed her gaze and looked startled. "Damn, I thought I felt a pinch. I've never cut myself scratching before, not even with these new claws. How strange."
Zephyria looked closer, and then licked at the wound to wipe the blood way. Asher began to protest, then stopped as he saw a few gleaming Azure scales where his skin had once been. It was only a small patch, less than an inch across at most, but it still stunned the pair.
"They look just like mine, little dragon." Zephyria said, pridefully.
Asher nodded hesitantly. "It's strange, this feels more 'real' than the rest of the changes. Almost like this one is the beginning of something greater? I can't see my own eyes very often, sharper teeth is odd but still somewhat normal, and while the claws are unusual they aren't too different than many of the beast-kin we've met lately. But the scales... they seem more significant, somehow." Asher said pensively.
"It may be because this is the first change that marks you as truly different. It marks you unmistakably as my chosen, little dragon. You may be hesitant now, but when you are fully clad in my scales and standing taller than ever before, you will look back and wonder how you could have ever been afraid, little one." Zephyria reassured Asher the best she could.
Asher nodded along with her words while he absently scratched at a few spots on his body, largely on his forearms and the backs of hands. "I just hope Conall likes them. I wouldn't blame him if he preferred me as a human." Asher mumbled to himself. Zephyria politely pretended to not hear, not wanting to intrude on their mating ritual again.
He looked between his now bloody claws and the half revealed patches of scales on his body. "As much as I want to clean my gear, I'm only going to get filthier if I don't take care of this mess right away. I'm going to go into the inn and use the washroom. Afterwards would you like me to help you learn to read better? At least until Conall returns from his visit to the healers?"
Zephyria purred slightly. "I would like that very much, little dragon. I look forward to your return." She said as she opened her book once more, and began to slowly work through the pages while she waited.
Almost as soon as Asher left, Conall walked into the stable with a dumb grin on his face. A moment after entering he looked around, confused. "Zephyria, is Asher not here? He's always with you."
Zephyria couldn't help but find the timing amusing. "No, little wolf. He is in the inn cleaning himself up after another change altered his body."
Conall perked, up, even happier looking. "Oh really? Another one? What was it?" He said, with interest. Zephyria could have sworn he sounded excited to see Asher change. He immediately cut Zephyria off before she could even try to respond. "No, wait. Don't tell me, I wanna see for myself when he gets back."
Zephyria considered Conall's obvious excitement upon hearing Asher changed again. "What was it my little dragon said earlier? 'I wouldn't blame him if he preferred me as a human?' I have already made a mess of the mortal mating rituals once already, It wouldn't be my place to intrude once more. But..."
Slowing coming to a decision, Zephyria spoke to her warlock gently. "Conall, come here for a moment." Conall looked at her curiously but got close. "I do not understand your mortal mating rituals very well." Conall winced slightly at Zephyria's inappropriate phrasing. "But, I feel this is important enough to risk making a mess of things again. Asher fears that you do not enjoy his changes, and that you would find him more desirable if he remained human. Clearly you are excited to see him change. You should make this known to him so that he does not worry needlessly." Zephyria said softly, her discomfort in involving herself clear to Conall through her tone and body language.
Conall just looked at her in surprise. "I should have guessed he would feel that way. We haven't had a chance to talk very much in private, yet. I'll be sure to bring it up... tactfully." He thanked her, equally softly.
The warlock and Patron sat in silence as they waited for Asher's return. Before long, he returned and halted in the doorway, lingering uncomfortably while Conall's back was still turned to him. The moment Conall realized Asher had arrived his expression lit up with joy and he spoke without hesitating. "I love the scales, Asher! As gorgeous as Zephyria's, and a handsome compliment to her beauty."
Zephyria preened at the praise, and she could tell Asher was relieved. The smile on her little dragon's face told her she made the right choice in intervening.
Some time later Conall was resting his eyes as he leaned against Zephyria's side, just as her chosen often did. Meanwhile, said chosen was guiding Zephyria through the definitions of some of the words she had been struggling with. The pair had been reading her book together for some time, Asher frequently pausing to point out some of the more metaphorical elements of the story and guiding Zephyria in being able to spot them herself.
Zephyria had been so focused on learning the lessons her chosen was imparting on her, it never crossed her mind how patient she was being. A mortal a fraction of her age was treating her like a child, a season ago she would have torn him apart for the disrespect. Now? She had nothing but gratitude in her heart for those she called friends.
Petra came by later that day with the High Warlock just behind her, with the final version of the contract for Zephyria to sign. Asher and Conall both read it over, ensuring there was no fine print to trick them. Reading it over herself, and satisfied her mortals had done their due diligence she signed the contract and was now officially the temporary guardian of Rannoch, alongside the surviving warlocks she had 'legally' conscripted in its defense. Conall noted that it was odd that the High Warlock was attending the meeting, but none of them thought too deeply of the Justiciar's presence.
With the bandit threat drawing back for a time, and no other immediate threats to the town that required a dragon's touch, the trio decided to simply relax for the first time in a while and take a well deserved break. Asher opted to keep teaching Zephyria everything he knew, including numbers and math. Zephyria wasn't stupid, simply ignorant through no fault of her own. So she consumed his lessons voraciously, learning quickly and attentively.
Conall for his sake did as he promised and sought out the Order to grow his knowledge of healing. The local Order of healers was unsure having a warlock study with them at first, nearly refusing him entirely. However, the healers that helped Zephyria welcomed him with open arms and agreed to share everything they knew.
It didn't escape Zephyria's notice that the pair of men were growing far closer than they had in the past. Often leaning against each other, holding hands, or holding each other in embraces simply for the sake of being close to one another. She knew they came to some kind of understanding regarding their relationship, but Zephyria didn't pry. She trusted her mortals to make things clear to her on the topic when the time came. She wasn't going to make that mistake twice.
It was on the fourth day of Asher's language lessons that something distinctly different happened. The trio had been relaxing out in the sun as they had their lesson, as she no longer felt the need to try to hide her ignorance from the townspeople and wanted to get out of the cramped stable. It was then a little girl approached them. Zephyria stared at her in confusion, recognizing the girl. "It's that hatchling from the town square! The one that came to me for advice, and lead to me realizing my mother may have not been my mother at all. Rose? Remy? What is this girls name?"
"Hello miss dragon! I don't know if you remember me, but you gave me some really good advice! Mom says I should introduce myself properly to people when I want to talk to them." She said, brightly. Zephyria remembered this girl's odd behavior clearly now. "I wonder if this hatchling will ever learn to actually do as she says, rather than simply stating she will do it."
"Well? Are you going to introduce yourself, properly?" Asher said, his tone full of amusement. The little girl nodded and then stared at the trio expectantly.
For what felt like an eternity, but must have been only a few seconds, the girl simply stared at the trio expectantly as though she were waiting for them to introduce herself. An impossibility only the truly young can expect from the world. "Oh! Right! I'm Rita! I heard you were learning to read gooder too, miss dragon! I remembered how smart you were, so you learned super fast right? Can you help me with my story, miss dragon? Miss Nadine, I mean, mom, is too busy working to help right now an' you are super smart!" She said in a whirlwind of words. Zephyria wasn't sure she actually stopped to breath at any point.
Zephyria was certain she was the last creature in the town suited to helping the excitable hatchling, but then Asher spoke up. "I won't force you, Zeph, but often the best way to learn is to teach. It would be good for you, I think. I say give it a go, things have been calm lately so it's not like we're pressed for time."
Zephyria hesitated, but upon seeing the expression on the little hatchling's face, she said, "I... I suppose there would be no harm in it. But you must be careful around me, little Rita. I am far larger than you, and mortal young are so very fragile." The little girl walked over and showed her the story, seemingly not listening to her warnings at all. Zephyria was astonished to see that it was actually one of the books she had in her hoard up north, one that she had remembered struggling with a long time ago. A story she had never finished because she destroyed it in another one of her many fits of rage. "It is a strange reminder at how far I've come in such a short time. From destroying books in fits of rage because of a temper I had no control over, to agreeing to teach a mortal youth how to read those very same books. When was the last time I let my temper truly control me? I cannot recall."
Several days passed before the little girl returned again for another lesson as her mother was quite cross with her, not that a mother's anger ever stopped an excitable child. However Zephyria's impromptu lesson was interrupted as the four surviving warlocks approached the courtyard outside the stable, clad in their gear with their weapons on their persons but not drawn. Zephyria involuntarily growled a deep, threatening growl as she saw them scaring the little hatchling she had taken a liking to. Rita glanced at Zephyria in worry, and then followed her gaze to the warlocks. Upon seeing them she immediately fled behind Zephyria and crawled under her wing.
The four warlocks who had walked up with such stern faces had their composure entirely broken by that simple act of childish fear. Their faces twisted into heartbreak and shame, and their advance slowed. How can you think yourself the savior, when a child would rather hide beneath the wing of a dragon than face you?
The one with the broad hammer upon his back stepped forward, regret clearly on his face. "Hail, Great Patron. We mean you no harm. Not again. Never, again." He said loudly as he approached. Zephyria stopped growling, but still prepared to fight if it came to it. "We did as we promised and asked around. You truly have done no harm to this town, and have done everything to help. We have come to right our wrongs."
Zephyria lifted her wing slightly and peered under it. "Everything will be alright, little hatchling. I fear I will likely not have the time for our lessons again, do not forget what I have taught you or I will be very disappointed. And you don't want to disappoint a dragon, do you?" Zephyria said softly, prompting Rita to shake her head. "Good. Then run along now. I'm sure your mother is wondering where you are again." She said, just as softly, while raising her wing all the way. The little girl gave her a smile and then hurried off, shooting a scornful look at the warlocks as she left.
Once the girl was out of earshot, Zephyria stood all the way and addressed the warlocks. "Right your wrongs, hm? How exactly do you plan to do that?" She said, her tone cool and neutral.
"We've been protecting Rannoch in your stead as we agreed, great patron. But after hearing how truly wrong we were to attack you, and considering how our fight went, we've come to an agreement." The hammer wielder said.
"You are truly awful in a fight, dragon. If it weren't for your companions, we would have killed you dead without issue." The man said, matter of factly. Zephyria was so stunned she couldn't even form a response. "But, you're the good sort of folk. The kind that protects people. That's why we'll train you. Our team, we specialize in taking down magical beasts, you see." He said, plowing forward with his proposition.
"Nobody better to teach you how to defeat beast hunters, than the beast hunters themselves."
