The sky was wide and mercilessly blue, the kind of color found only in painted storybooks. Too perfect, too open. Not a single cloud lingered to soften it. Nothing to veil the two draconic silhouettes carving their path through the wind.

  They were smaller than the legends would suggest. Not yet the mountain-shadowing titans sung of in ancient epics. Vast was not the right word for them. Hatchlings, that was the term. Their scales carried a persistent gradient of black and white, stark against the blazing sky. And yet, even in youth, they possessed the air with unquestioned authority. The scorched terrain below seemed emptied in their presence. One might claim the fauna hid from the sun, but that would be a kinder lie. Dragons etched their superiority into every creature that dared draw breath.

  Beneath them sprawled a harsh, fractured landscape. Stone and dust reigned. Sheer cliffs jutted upward like broken teeth, their faces carved by wind and time. Narrow ledges clung precariously to the rock walls, and deep ravines split the earth into shadowed chasms where sunlight thinned and struggled.

  Iono descended first.

  Grace did not concern her. She folded her wings and dropped, a dark spear falling through the air. At the final moment her wings snapped open, catching the wind in a heavy beat that slowed her just enough. Her claws opened without ceremony, releasing the human squirming in her grasp. He fell the remaining few meters with a startled cry, landing hard among loose stones.

  A breath later, Sylth, the smaller hatchling followed.

  His descent was steadier, slowed by the unfamiliar weight on his back. He flared his wings carefully and touched down with controlled force, pebbles scattering beneath his claws. His tail swept once to steady himself. The human clinging to him scrambled down immediately, seeking the solid reassurance of earth.

  A blue kobold slid from Iono’s back just as quickly, small claws patting the ground as if confirming it would not vanish beneath him.

  Sylth’s mana pulsed outward in a fading ripple, brushing with muted concern. “The humans don't seem well.”

  “If i were a guessing dragon, I would say they're tired of flying.” She snorted. “I doubt the sun is being kind to their frail skin either.”

  At that, Sylth shifted. He angled one wing outward, casting a wide shadow over his human. The human looked up at him, startled. “Pointy seems hungry too, we should find out what humans eat.”

  A scoff rumbled in Iono's chest, her mana responded. “Easy for you to say. You got the one who is tame. Mine keeps growling words i didn't learn yet, constantly angry about something.”

  Sylth pondered, “I thought you liked challenges.”

  Iono’s gaze slid toward her human, who had edged several steps away, posture tight with defiance. After a brief pause, she decided to voice a command. “Come.” She spoke, lifting her right wing, expectantly glaring at Sticky.

  He had reluctancy at first, but it took him only a few seconds to come closer. But ended up sheltered below her wing. I only want to understand those words, Iono projected, annoyance sharpening the edges of her thoughts. “Knowing them would help me train him properly.”

  Then the girl beneath Sylth’s wing spoke, her voice thin and trembling. “Why did we stop?” She was breathing hard, exhaustion fraying the steadiness from her tone. Her eyes darted from the dragons to the empty expanse.

  “Food.” Sylth replied simply. With his mana as usual exchanging signals with his sister's. “I can go get something small, you can take care of them." His mana drifted outward.

  The humans and the kobold startled as Sylth suddenly launched skyward, wind and dust spiraling in his wake. To them, the decision seemed abrupt, unspoken. In truth, it had been settled almost instantly, in an exchange carried through the quiet current of mana waves between the siblings, concluded in the span of a breath after landing.

  A thin thread of concern followed him as he climbed. “Be quick,” Iono sent.

  “Alright,” Sylth answered, his presence already growing fainter against the wide, merciless blue.

  While they were still shaken by Sylth’s sudden departure, Iono unfurled her left wing and fixed Pointy with the same unyielding stare she had given Sticky. “Come.” Pointy just went. The instant Sylth vanished into the sky, she moved, slipping beneath Iono’s wing without a hint of protest.

  A few seconds passed before she spoke, voice low and tight. “The red dragon may be dangerous… He’s known to have burned down whole villages. Cities.” Her eyes flicked between Iono and the distant horizon, unease plain in her posture.

  “And we’re heading straight to his home, huh?” Sticky added, his voice rough from heat and strain.

  Iono turned her attention fully to Pointy, studying her tone, the unfamiliar words just spoken. “What are villages and cities?” she asked.

  Pointy drew in a steadying breath. “Places where many people live. Homes. Where life is.”

  Iono’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mana stirring with unsettled curiosity. She did not like the word dangerous. “Why?” she pressed.

  Pointy hesitated only a moment. “For wealth,” she said carefully. “And glory.”

  “Wealth,” Iono repeated slowly, the word new and strange. “Glory.” Her tail shifted against the stone, a faint scrape of claw over rock. “Explain.”

  Pointy took a moment of silence. “Wealth is… shiny things. Gold. Jewels. Things people trade for food, tools, land. The more you have, the more power you hold.”

  Iono’s gaze sharpened. “Shiny rocks give power?”

  “In a way,” Sticky muttered from beneath her other wing. “People will do almost anything for them.”

  “And glory?” she pressed.

  “Glory is reputation. Being admired. Feared. Remembered. When others speak your name with awe.”

  Iono digested this, her mana thoughtful. Gaze drifting toward the horizon where Sylth had vanished. “So the red dragon burns… villages and cities… for shiny rocks and for being spoken of.”

  Sticky added, voice heavy with disdain. “He's an idiot.”

  Iono's gaze flickered back to him. “What is an idiot?”

  Sticky froze for half a heartbeat, clearly regretting the word the moment it left his mouth. “It means…” He swallowed. “Someone who does foolish things. Someone who doesn’t think.”

  Iono’s pupils thinned slightly. “Foolish.”

  Pointy shifted under the shelter of her wing. “Acting without thinking. Causing harm for no good reason.”

  Iono’s tail drew another slow line across the stone. “He gains shiny rocks. He gains… glory.” She tasted the word again, as if weighing it. “That is reason.”

  “It’s a bad reason,” Sticky insisted. “People die.”

  Silence followed, Iono had been giving some thought to the idea. “People... Are dragons people too?”

  Sticky met her gaze, brow furrowing as he answered instantly. “No, humans are.”

  “And kobolds,” the small blue creature added quickly from near the three, straightening to his full, unimpressive height. “We are people too.”

  Sticky glanced at him. “You’re-”

  “People,” the kobold repeated, more stubbornly. His tail flicked once.

  Iono’s tail stilled. “Good to know,” she murmured. Her thoughts trailed off, mind wandering.

  Sticky frowned, a crease deepening between his brows. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to learn,” he muttered, the words more uncertain than defiant.

  That was when a distant shape cut across the distant treetops. At first it was only a shadow against the glare, before Sylth's figure grew clearer, a deer hanging limp in his claws.

  Once close Sylth let go of the carcass, its body thudded onto the ground, blood painting the earth a darker shade. He landed beside it, a few feet away from his sister and the humans. Mana rippled from him in quiet satisfaction. “It was so weak and slow.” A statement, not a boast.

  Iono turned, eyes focused on the animal. The meat. “Doesn't look that tasty.” Her mana flickered with doubt.

  “The humans are too hungry, i don't think they will care” Sylth stated, lowering his muzzle before pushing the carcass toward them.

  The humans did not move, while Iono observed them. “Do they know what food is?” her mana asked, noticing only the kobold moving to examine it, sniffing and licking his lips.

  “They probably need a command,” Sylth's mana stated, then, nodding at the carcass. “Eat.” His voice broke the silence, clear and simple.

  Sticky tore his gaze away from the deer and looked up at the dragons instead. “We can’t eat it like that.” He glanced back at the carcass.

  The confusion didn't linger for that long among the hatchlings, Sylth's mana came with an answer “Their teeth are too weak for it.”

  “That can't be right, if that was the case how did they survive?” Iono asked, eyes shifting between Sticky and Pointy.

  “What do you suggest, then?” Sylth inquired, looking over at her.

  “Sticks, they always carry sticks.” Iono replied, gesturing at Sticky who had, in fact, a stick in his hand.

  “But they said, they can't eat it like this” Sylth added, glancing between her and the humans.

  The exchange of mana between the hatchlings flared and settled in about a second or two. To the humans, it looked like nothing at all. A blink. A few glances.

  Pointy was about to leave the cover of Iono's wing when the dragon's voice rang through the air. “Go,” Iono said at once, nudging the two humans with her wings.

  Hesitant, the two stood, gathering their thoughts until Pointy finally spoke. “Can you cook it?” She pointed to the carcass.

  Iono tilted her head. “Cook?”

  Pointy then explained. “Heat it a little, to make it tender.”

  Iono did not argue. The concept was simple enough.

  She lowered her head toward the carcass and parted her jaws. Flame bloomed from her throat in a controlled surge, a concentrated torrent of orange and white that struck only the deer. The hide blackened instantly. Fat hissed and spat. Smoke curled upward in thick ribbons, carrying the sharp scent of seared flesh.

  Pointy flinched at first, unease tightening her shoulders, and Iono adjusted almost immediately. The inferno softened to a steady breath, then to a measured wash of heat, guided by the subtle shifts in the girl’s mana. Iono soon closed her jaws, with a final wisp of smoke drifting from her teeth as she studied her work, faint satisfaction stirring in her mana.

  Heat shimmered above the blackened carcass, the air wavering as the scent of cooked meat replaced the sharp tang of blood. Slowly, cautiously, the others edged closer. “Thank you,” Pointy said, her voice steadier now. “Fire kills what we cannot see. It makes it safer.”

  Iono’s pupils thinned. “There are things in the meat that can kill you?”

  “In a way,” Sticky replied with a tired huff. “Fire rids the meat of those impurities.”

  Sylth leaned closer, nostrils flaring as he examined the carcass. His mana radiated. “So even eating can kill them,” he mused. “Humans are fragile.”

  The dragons expected the meal to vanish quickly. It did not. The humans worked with slow persistence, using their sharpened sticks to pry apart charred flesh and bone. They ate little, far less than either hatchling would have considered sufficient. When they finally stepped back, the dragons exchanged a brief pulse of understanding. Without ceremony, they lowered their heads and finished what remained, bones cracking cleanly between young but powerful jaws.

  Soon after, departure beckoned. Answering Sticky's protests, Iono allowed him to climb onto her back. He settled just behind the kobold, gripping her scales tightly as they rose. The hatchlings took off into the sky together, wings beating in concert.

  During their flight, another distraction caught the gaze of both dragon whelps. “Look Sylth, more humans.” Iono's mana declared, directing his gaze toward a large wooden construct rumbling across the fractured ground, pushed and guided by the figures below. Two humans rode atop it.

  Sylth angled a wing and dipped slightly, peering down. “That one has horns,” he observed, focusing on the sleeker of the two standing above. Sunlight flashed against curved shapes rising from the man’s head. “Do you think it’s a rare species?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Iono replied, amusement flickering through her mana.

  They began to descend.

  The shift did not go unnoticed. The humans on their backs stiffened as the wind changed and the ground swelled nearer. “Why are we descending?” Pointy called, unease threading her voice.

  “We need to see that,” Sylth answered simply.

  The dragons drew close enough that their wingbeats alerted the group below, panic flared. One man snatched up an axe, knuckles whitening around the haft. The horned one started gesturing, hands catching the sun in a sharp gleam. Fear and hostility balanced precariously in their stances. Until their sight caught something worth holding up any further aggression.

  The moment the dragons landed, there was a shift in their mana, the abrupt dip from fear to amazement.

  “Dragon riders!” the one with the horns called, face lighting up. “What a rare sight.”

  The humans on the dragons got down, wobbling a bit after the descent. The two dragons, however, stood patiently observing.

  “Can we help you?” The man asked.

  Pointy looked over and spoke, “No, not really. They were just curious i think.” She glanced back at the two hatchlings who did indeed seem to be looking at the vehicle.

  "I noticed you don't ha ve a saddle, why is that?" One of the other humans questioned, eyes on the dragons.

  “Didn't have time, found them recently,” Sticky answered.

  “Huh...” The man replied before turning to his companions. “We're heading to the village. There you could find some things you'll need, tell us your tale while at it.”

  Pointy shook her head, “I'm afraid we'll have to-” Before she could finish, the sharp sound of Iono's voice cut through the air.

  “I want to see this village you speak of.” The statement was final, but no less curious in its intent. The man looked over at the dragon surprised, both did.

  But no matter what, the group led the dragons, kobold and company along the path, all eyes on the two young dragons. It was painfully slow for the dragons, hearing the humans talk to each other as they walked, their pace sluggish and annoying. Both whelps let out a low grumble, wings flaring slightly in irritation.

  As they drew nearer, the faint scent of smoke hung heavy in the air, and with it the hum of voices and distant clamor. A lot of humans clustered together indeed, full of strange constructions.

  The village itself was nothing to write home about. Basic wooden structures lined the road, smoke rising from chimneys, an assortment of noises. Chatter, laughter, and the usual surprised gazes upon the sight of the dragons. It wasn't long until the group arrived at a more central location, where the commotion seemed to be the most.

  A small crowd gathered as the newcomers walked by, watching with wide eyes and furrowed brows. The horned man guided them toward a broader structure near the village’s center. Its open front revealed racks of metal tools, bits of worked leather, and various trinkets hanging from beams darkened by smoke.

  Inside stood an old man, back was slightly bent, beard thin and silver. He studied the hatchlings for a long moment, measuring rather than marveling. Then he began to speak. The words flowed from him, even with Iono’s keen hearing, not a single syllable resolved into meaning. The sounds were clear, the sense was not. Around her, however, the humans nodded, responded, gestured. Their voices overlapped in easy exchange, as though nothing unusual had occurred.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The old man stepped forward at last, calculating. He circled Iono first, then her brother. Her mana was trying to make something of it. “Do you think this is a human game?” she asked Sylth, who merely shook his head in a similar amount of confusion.

  The old man crouched and began pulling objects from beneath a broad wooden table. Thick leather. Straps. Buckles of hammered steel. A curved frame of shaped wood reinforced with metal ribs. He set them out piece by piece, each one an oddity to the young dragons.

  “That is a saddle,” Pointy informed Iono, her eyes fixed on the components as they appeared.

  The old man approached Iono, pausing before sliding the straps around her, fitting them snugly to her scales. And then was Sylth's turn, the same done for him. It was unfamiliar, but neither hatchling objected or showed discomfort, watching the process curiously.

  Satisfied, the old man patted the leather in place, standing up straight again. He spoke to the humans, they replied back. That gave the hatchlings plenty of time to wonder. “I don't think i would have the heart to burn them for some shiny stones, even if i could,” Iono's mana stated, looking over the village outside.

  "Nor would i," Sylth agreed.

  “That makes me more curious about that dragon. Mistreating such docile creatures is insane.” Iono's gaze shifted to Sticky and Pointy. “They can barely survive without our help.”

  “If we tell the elders how weak they are, they will protect them.” Sylth suggested.

  Iono nodded, the mana echoing his idea. “Yes. But not all dragons will be as protective.” She then diverted her attention to Sticky, who was sneaking away. Prompting her to pick him up with her tail again. “Mine still needs to learn to stay put.”

  The blue kobold clung proudly atop Iono, small claws gripping leather rather than scale this time. Pointy rode on Sylth as usual. Sticky, however, found himself once again secured in Iono’s claws, lifted just below her chest as she flew.

  Below them, fields and fractured stone gave way to scattered trees. Only wind and wingbeats filled the space between them, far ahead, the land began to change again. Trees thickened. Shadows pooled deeper between trunks.

  Sylth felt it first. His wings adjusted unconsciously, while his mana reacted to another. “Hi,” his mana greeted, an instinctive acknowledgment of another’s presence. Iono did the same, but less eager. “Who is there?” she asked, sending her query into the gloom as far as she could send it.

  The trees below bowed outward in a widening arc. Leaves trembled. Birds exploded from the canopy in frantic bursts.

  Then the reply came. “You are far from your nest.” The words were direct, a constant wave carried along the quiet rustle of leaves.

  The hatchlings hesitated, exchanging glances and a few flashes of mana. “Do you know how to get there?” Both hatchlings flared back, all but hopeful.

  “Of course.” Came the answer, confident, boastful. “Come.”

  Both dragons dove forward, wings furious, eager. They tore through the branches as their altitude dipped. The couldn't help but to pay attention to the different creatures on their way, to the statues, the structures that began to appear as they went closer.

  The trees grow thick, but too evenly spaced. In a way that screams something large moves through them often, with sparse underbrush, tailored to let a beast pass without fuss. As they go deeper, structures begin appearing. Most charred to unrecognizable black stumps, like a neat pile of charcoal. Above all, bones, well arranged at that. Spines nad skulls so massive, managed to send chills through both Iono and Sylth's spines. All on display, perfectly organized to appear menacing at a glance.

  There wasn't much forest left by then, unwilling to grow closer. A wide clearing where something massive drags its body regularly, with a clear path in the middle. At which point even Pointy was hesitant to proceed, regretful of the decision to come.

  “Going in would be stupid.” Sticky repeated, had been against the entry of the territory all along. His squeals constantly ignored by Iono.

  “This dragon is very proud and strong. Be careful with what you do,” Pointy warned, her tone shaky.

  Iono finally released Sticky, lowering him to the ground rather than simply dropping him. Both hatchlings folded their wings and stepped onto the worn central path, their claws sinking slightly into the softened earth where something vast had passed countless times before.

  The kobold slid carefully from the saddle, adjusting his grip on the leather as if reluctant to let it go. Pointy dismounted from Sylth, her boots touching down stiffly. Sticky stumbled when his feet met the ground, but quickly steadied himself, eyes darting toward the bone-lined clearing. All followed inside, led by the dragonlings.

  The corridor widened gradually, the bone-lined displays growing more deliberate with every step. Massive ribs arched overhead like trophies turned into architecture. Skulls, cracked or split cleanly in two, were mounted along the earthen walls. The empty sockets filled with polished gems that caught what little light filtered in. Gold had been pressed into crevices between vertebrae. Coins lay fused into resin and sap, hardened into glittering mosaics.

  The passage opened ahead. Boasting a ceiling that soared high above, even Iono felt diminished beneath its breadth. And from beyond the final archway at the chamber’s heart came a rumble, as if a mountain itself had just exhaled. Each step ahead made the little ones flock closer to the hatchlings, as if to gain some protection.

  Gold was heaped in layered drifts like dunes sculpted by an unmoving wind. Coins cascaded down slopes in frozen avalanches. Cups, crowns, broken blades, shields stamped with forgotten emblems, all swallowed together in a sea of metal. Gems were scattered like fallen stars across its surface, their colors blinking faintly in the dimness: red like coals, green like deep forest, blue like trapped sky.

  Entire statues leaned half-buried, marble faces peering out from beneath coins as though suffocating in wealth. Chests split open from within their own abundance. Silk banners, long since burned to brittle threads, clung to the edges of treasure mounds like shed skin.

  At the chamber’s center, the hoard sloped upward toward a raised plateau of gold. A dragon laid upon it, head pillowed on a mound of plundered silver. A red dragon. Mottled scales darkened by the shadows, and eyes that shone as if lit from within.

  The hatchlings had been silent with the mana up until now, expecting the dragon would finally tell them where to go, what to do. Instead the creature stirred, and lifted its head.

  Emerald eyes met the intruders, hot and glaring. “Who dares enter my lair?” The booming voice rattled against stone.

  The hatchlings didn't give much of a reaction, while the humans and kobold were sent into panic mode, stumbling back, too scared to even scream. Once Iono finally decided to step foward, her mana was decisive. “Stop scaring our underlings,” she demanded, her wings spreading to look more imposing.

  “Nobody ever died of fear,” the red dragon replied, while his bared teeth didn't quite match his calm and playful mana. “Humans work better if you scare them a little.”

  Iono glanced back at the petrified humans holding their sitcks. “This is Pointy, Sticky, and a kobold.” She introduced them before turning back.

  “What's all that shiny stuff?” Sylth asked, gesturing around him.

  The Red Dragon never stopped glaring at them. “These are mine.” He claimed, proudly. “Do you want some?” He asked, in a tone that left no room for a refusal.

  Both dragonlings responded the instant the message came through. “Yes.” They both stated.

  “I will tell you how to get it then.” His gaze lingered on Iono. “First, those little creatures you’ve claimed for yourselves are the primary source of coinage in these lands.” A claw shifted lazily through the gold, metal cascading in a glittering sigh. “The safest method for whelps like you is claiming a settlement and collecting the taxes.”

  His emerald eyes narrowed slightly. “Just one. Announce yourselves. Make it known that any threat to it is a threat to you.”

  He tapped a claw against a mound of coins. “The humans will respond with tribute. Out of fear and gratitude tangled together. They will bring coin, livestock, crafted goods. Regularly. If not... Burn it all and restart.” He looked away for a moment, dismissive. “Repeat as necessary.”

  Iono’s pupils thinned. “You said they are the source of coinage. How?”

  The red dragon kept his snarl for no apparent reason. “Humans dig it from the earth. They melt it. Stamp it. Agree upon its value. Then they obsess over it.”

  Their interest over humans only grew, their tails flicking behind them with each new detail. The red dragon then got up, startling the humans into even further panic. The creature's presence overwhelmed all of them.

  They were shrinking away in panick at the sight, yelling things to the likes of: “We have no gold!”, “Please don't eat us!” and “Don't hurt the little dragons!” At some point they started urging the dragonlings to fly away, climbing on their saddles as fast as possible.

  “There is also, my preferred method.” His tail slipped behind a pile of gilded shields and curled around something iron. Slowly, he dragged it forward. A cage. Iron bars, thick and blackened. Inside, something shifted. He set it down between himself and the hatchlings with deliberate care.

  The hatchlings observed it puzzled. “That's just another human,” Iono noted, before Sylth went closer, curious about the trapped individual.

  “Wrong.” The red Dragon explained. “Humans vary in value.” His claws traced along the iron, the human within snarling. “This one, for example, is called a princess. Valuable, due to her bloodline, status, and the people who want her free. But many will also pay to see her dead. In either case, you will find great reward in possessing her.”

  Sylth nudged the cage, causing the human to whimper and hiss back. Pointy and Sticky didn't know what to think about the whole ordeal, still hiding behind Iono, and only the kobold looked at peace.

  Sylth was interested in getting treasures too, but one thing pinged into his mind stronger. “But how do we go back home?” He asked, thinking it would be the most important question.

  “For that information,” The red dragon said, “I require something in return.” He reached inside the cage wtih a claw to caress the princess’ head, as if he cared for her.

  The humans seemed to be in another scene entirely, questioning about the cage, about the silence.

  “What? We don't have anything,” Iono denied.

  The dragon's emerald eyes bored into hers, his mana smug as his gaze shifted to the humans before returning to the two hatchlings. “Tell me.” He demanded. “What do you know about dragon riders?”

  Both of them exchanged glances, neither sure about how to answer this. Sylth hesitantly answered. “I never heard of them. Why?”

  The red dragon’s expression turned wry. “Those little menlings clinging to your backs, are trying to become dragon riders.”

  “Humans spread across the world like mold across bread. They claim land. They raise banners. They name rivers and mountains as though the act of naming makes them sovereign.” His claw tapped the cage absently. “In time, they begin to believe it does.”

  A low rumble escaped his chest.

  “They see existence through a narrow keyhole and mistake it for the whole sky. In their stories, the world is shaped in their image. There are only two categories to them: humans, with whatever human looking race they invent next… and beasts.”

  His tail swayed, knocking against the princess’ cage. “And so, they tell stories of dragon riders. A fantasy where even dragonkind bends beneath them. Where the greatest of creatures becomes a mount. A symbol. A throne with wings.”

  Sylth couldn't resist. “So what?”

  “That makes humans easy to fool,” he said. “They are disarmed by their own stories. Their own expectations.” His tail swept lazily through gold. “Play the role well enough, and they will compete for you. They will bleed for the privilege of calling themselves your rider.”

  His eyes flicked toward Sticky and Pointy. “And once you are seen as a tool… who blames the tool for the hand that wields it?”

  Iono did not linger on the philosophy. “How does that help us get home?”

  The dragon shifted to face her fully. “Take your humanlings,” he instructed, “and use your whelpish charm. You are small. Novel. Harmless-looking.” A low rumble vibrated beneath his words. “Lure a high-value target.”

  His claw gestured broadly across the hoard. “Bring it to me. In exchange, I will tell you how to find your nest.”

  Sylth frowned slightly. “How do we know which humans are valuable?”

  The red dragon’s gaze drifted toward the iron cage. The princess inside shrank back from it. “Trust me,” he said smoothly. “They never hide it.”

  Amusement increased in his mana bit by bit. “Seek royalty. Go to a kingdom. Present yourselves at a castle. The most adorned, the most guarded, the most arrogant one in the room, take that.”

  Behind the hatchlings, Pointy and Sticky were still calling out in strained voices, trying to ask questions, to protest, to understand. The kobold alone remained quiet, absently turning a gold coin between his claws, eyes thoughtful.

  Iono’s mana sharpened into decision. “Where should we begin? Which kingdom is easiest to enter?”

  The red dragon’s tail flicked, scattering coins in a brief metallic cascade.

  “Head north. When you reach the coastline, follow it. There you’ll find a monarch both ambitious and pliable.”

  “Alright,” Iono sent at last.

  She turned without further ceremony, lowering one wing to allow the kobold to climb aboard. Sylth mirrored her movements. Moments later, both hatchlings surged upward, gold flashing beneath them as they tore back through the bone-lined corridor and into open sky.

  Behind them, as the oppressive presence of the red dragon faded, the humans erupted in relieved cheers. They clung to their saddles, praising their “little dragons” for braving such terror.

  Pointy steadied her breathing before speaking. “You didn’t say a word,” she said carefully. “But it seemed like you were speaking to him.”

  Iono caught only fragments of the sounds, but she could guess the rest. “Dragons don’t need sound to speak,” she replied simply.

  The forest shrank beneath them, the red dragon’s domain dissolving into a dark scar among green. For a while, there was only the rhythm of wings.

  Then Sticky found his voice. “Where,” he demanded hoarsely, gripping the saddle straps, “are we going?”

  “To a big village,” Iono told him.

  Pointy’s fingers tightened in Sylth’s scales. “Why?”

  “For information,”