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The Black Collar: The Line In The Sand

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Chapter Nine

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Booming thunder rattled the windows in Alvaranox's home. Flashes of blue-white light illuminated the dragon's sleeping chamber in flickering moments. The rumbles that followed rolled through the night in stuttering cascades of furious sound. Curtains of heavy rain battered the land in ceaseless waves. Between the sharp crackles and deep reverberations of thunder, the rain that pounded against the roof and windows filled the night with a steady, hissing rush.

Usually Alvaranox liked the rain. It reminded him of an old lover he'd met in a downpour. The memory made him smile. The dragon also knew Asterryl needed the rain after over a month of hot sun. What the dragon did not like was all the damn thunder that was keeping him awake all night.

The rains had started that morning, gentle at first but soon interspersed with thunder and heavy downpours. All day long and into the night the rain and storms had ebbed and flowed, filling the streets and gutters with muddy streams. Sometime in the middle of the night the storms reached their apex.

If Alvaranox was lucky, the floods would wash Asterryl away and he wouldn't have to protect it any longer.

If only the water could wash the collar away too. Damn thing had been bothering him since the rains began. Now and then the bell tolled, though it never sent him any urgent warnings. Never pulled him in any one direction, as though the danger was here in Asterryl. Alv wondered if it wished him to rescue someone from the water. It seemed to have conveniently forgotten that he was still a hobbled dragon. Limping about on three paws wasn't going to do much good for anyone.

Alvaranox had spent much of the day in his sleeping chamber where it was warm and dry. Kirra told him to stay indoors. She didn't want him to soak his bandages. Alvaranox snorted. He wasn't some hatchling eager to play in the rain and jump in every muddle puddle he could find. Of course, if Kirra stood close enough to a mud puddle he'd jump into it just to splash her. He'd dashed outside relieve himself but other than that stayed in his home. Nylah and Kirra had wrapped themselves in heavy rain cloaks to fetch his meals and his herbs.

After the third time the bell tolled in his mind with no specific urge to follow, the dragon tried to focus on it. He closed his eyes and asked it what it wanted, what he needed to do. It answered with a picture of a man in a hooded rain cloak, crossing a bridge near Asterryl. The small stream that normally flowed under the bridge had risen to a roaring cascade. The dragon thought perhaps the bridge was going to wash away. He could not check on it himself but he sent a few guards. They reported back later in the day that the bridge was still there and showing no signs of stress, and that they hadn't found any signs of travelers. Hopefully the man hadn't gotten washed away.

As the afternoon progressed into evening and evening into night, the rains showed no sign of letting up. The collar continued to ring the bell in his mind. Each time Alvaranox tried to concentrate and see what it wanted, bits and pieces of images assembled themselves in his head. Each image turned out to be another person in the rain, somewhere inside Asterryl or just beyond it. The dragon had Kirra send the guards to investigate but they never seem to find anything. Alvaranox finally decided Kirra must have broken the damn collar somehow. She didn't seem as amused by that idea as the dragon was.

By the time night's blanket was spread across the city, Alvaranox decided to ignore the tolling bell. He'd sent the guards out multiple times and yet they found nothing. There was no sense sending them out again and again if the results were going to be the same.

If the collar had something more urgent for him to deal with surely it would give him some kind of direction. It frustrated Alvaranox that the collar acted so strange lately. Before he was wounded it had never once buzzed around his neck. Since that day it tolled at strange times, gave him images that did little to assist him, and generally made a nuisance of itself. Not that the dragon was in any condition to go out and wreak havoc as the Guardian Slave even if the collar demanded it.

Alvaranox feared the thing would yank him around like a broken puppet and force him to fight, injured or not. When he considered it rationally, it seemed unlikely. After all a dead Guardian Slave was no good to Asterryl. Still, it was a chilling thought and he was glad it had not truly called him to action since then. If it did try to send him out to battle some unknown threat, he would have to marshal as many guards as possible and send them in his stead. He'd already planned for that contingency and had Nylah talk to the guard captain about it.

Alvaranox did his best to ignore the occasional tolling of the bell as he tried to sleep. If not for the frequent thunder he might have been successful. The steady hiss of rainfall was calming on its own yet rarely lasted more than moments before another flash of brilliant light and shattering clap of thunder. With his good paw, the dragon dragged one of his new blankets up and over his horned head to block out the lightning. In the weeks since his injury his pile of soft things had conquered more and more of his sleeping chamber, swelled by donations of blankets and pillows from the townsfolk.

The indigo blanket he pulled across his head did block out the next burst of blue-white light. It also allowed the ensuring thunderclap to take Alv by surprise. Alvaranox yelped and jerked his head up, pinning his ears back. His spines flared out in alarm and the indigo blanket fell from his head.

"Can't sleep either, hmm?"

Alvaranox turned his head towards Kirra's voice. The young woman was spending the night watching over the dragon. She wanted someone there for him in case he needed anything during the storm. She kept a few things stocked in the visitor's quarters lately including a few spare outfits, books and journals and some of her drawing utensils. The dragon doubted the storm allowed her any slumber either.

"Not with all this racket," Alvaranox grumbled. "You?"

"I dozed off a little earlier," Kirra said, leaning against the doorway of the far chamber. She held a blue and cream colored blanket wrapped around herself. Red hair mussed by her attempts to sleep stuck out in all directions. "But I think the thunder's gotten louder. After it woke me I couldn't get back to sleep."

"You're lucky you slept at all." Alvaranox watched Kirra for a moment. The dragon's vision was sharp enough at night he could clearly see her even in the gloom. A flash of lightning give her skin a pale, ghostly glow. Alvaranox smirked to himself. "You're not naked under that blanket, are you?"

"No, you dirty old lizard, I am not." Kirra giggled. "But I am in my under things, and no, I'm not going to show you."

"Wasn't going to ask you too." Alvaranox licked his nose. He lifted his head a little, narrowing his copper eyes. They flashed white in a flicker of lightning. "Why are you in your under things, though?"

"Because I hadn't brought a nightdress with me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to go and get one in all that rain." Kirra shifted a little under the blanket. "Besides, if you needed something I'm sure I'd have plenty of time to get dressed. Unless it was an emergency, in which case the last thing I'd be worried about is you seeing my undergarments." Kirra laughed to herself, then tilted her head. "Do you want company? Or should I go back to trying to sleep?"

"Get your sleep," Alvaranox said. He grinned, fangs flashing in the lightning. "You'll need it to deal with my complaining tomorrow."

Kirra stuck her tongue out at the dragon before she returned to the small bed kept inside the visitor's chamber. The room now served as temporary quarters for the dragon's handler when he needed them to spend the night. As she snuggled back into her bed, Alvaranox lay his head back down against his pile of soft things. Despite the ferocity of the thunder, fatigue was a heavy, warm blanket upon the dragon's back. Soon he slipped into the peaceful waters of slumber.

Alvaranox might have slept through the thunder, but he could not sleep through the bell. Sometime after he'd dozed off, the spectral toll sounded in his mind. It rang loud and brassy, more vibrant and urgent than he'd heard it since the day of his injury. It was not a warning that could be ignored. The sound woke him in instant, and he jerked his wedge-shaped head up, spines at full extension. At least he didn't bang his head this time.

Alvaranox panted a little, his wounds throbbing as if to remind him he was not yet fully healed. The bell tolled again. The dragon closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the world fall away from him as the collar shrouded his vision with the wasteland. The sounds of rain and thunder fell to silence as the waste pieced itself together in his mind. Shards of broken black rock and ragged images of sun-baked red earth like old paintings on tattered parchment appeared at the edges of his vision. More and more of them, assembling themselves into one coherent image.

The ebony bell loomed before him. All across it, the carved images of dragons in flight twisted and writhed. They circled the top of the bell, bathing the tear-drop shaped bottom of it in pillars of roiling fire. That was new. He could not recall actually seeing those dragons move before. Or could he? Some days his memories were so faint he wasn't even sure the bell itself was anything more than a feverish daydream. Coils of silver thread spilled from inside the bell. They began to twist themselves together into the form of the dragon-headed hammer.

"Quit wasting my time with your dramatics," Alvaranox said aloud, hissing through grit teeth. "If you've a problem for me to solve you'd better just show it to me! In case you've forgotten, I'm in no condition to be your errand boy today."

"Alv?" Kirra called out from the other room. She sounded drowsy. Her voice was no more than a drifting melody in the back of the dragon's mind.

"You're not even giving me a direction to go." The dragon continued his rant against the collar, his eyes still closed. He waved his paw in the air. "What's wrong with you today?" Then he grabbed at the collar, tugging at it. In his mind eye's eye, the wasteland itself seemed to tilt back and forth in time with the movement of the collar. "What are you telling me to do?"

In an instant, the wasteland shattered into a thousand fragments of painted glass flying in all directions. In another instant, the fragments froze and flipped over, revealing shards of a second image. In one more heartbeat, they all reassembled themselves into a complete picture of a rain-soaked alleyway in Asterryl. A small group of men in heavy cloaks slunk through it. Alvaranox recognized them as the same men the collar had showed him earlier. For one uncertain moment, the dragon was glad they hadn't washed away after all.

When the collar began to buzz around his neck, the dragon wished they had. The collar hadn't been telling him to help those men, it had been warning him about them. In the images he saw, the men moved through the rain and gloom, through empty backstreets and alleys. They were using the storm for cover, not wanting anyone to see them out at night. As the collar buzzed harder around his neck, Alvaranox shivered. His scales clicked together in sudden fear. He knew why the men did not wish to be seen.

"Kirra," the dragon said, his voice an urgent, fearful whisper. "Are those guards still outside?"

"I think so," Kirra said from the other room. She quickly emerged and padded over to Alvaranox, still wrapped in a blanket. "What's wrong?"

Alvaranox opened his eyes, sitting up onto his haunches. He turned his head down to Kirra, concern shining in his copper eyes even in the darkness. "Can you fight, Kirra? Can you use a weapon?"

"I know a little," Kirra said, her own fear twisting her face, and squeezing her heart. "Alv, what's wrong?"

"There are strangers in our midst, Kirra," the dragon said, glancing towards the door. "I think they are coming to kill me."

Kirra turned away from the dragon and dashed back to her quarters, calling over her shoulder. "Go tell the guards! Give them a location if you can."

Alvaranox hobbled towards the door, surprised to find himself wishing he could be as calm and steadfast as Kirra suddenly seemed to be. For all the times she stumbled over her own words, when the worst happened she handled it better than anyone. If only she could apply that ability in her daily life. Still, being calm in a crisis was certainly a noble quality. If she kept this up, the dragon was going to have to start admiring her.

Alvaranox wished Kirra's courage in the face of chaos was a physical thing so he could wrap it around himself like a comforting blanket. The dragon's own powerful heart was pounding hard enough it felt like his sternum was shaking. The way his belly twisted in cold coils made his wounds ache more sharply than they had in days. Who were these people, and why were they coming for him? He knew that was why they were here. The collar did not need words to make that clear. The continued rattling around his neck told him the same thing it had the day he was injured.

The dragon's life was in danger. These men were not here to harm Asterryl directly, nor were they here to hurt its citizens. They were here only because a dragon dwelled in the city, and they wished to slay it. Even before he reached the door, a myriad of possibilities played across the dragon's mind in flickering images and fragmented thoughts. Were they related to the dragon slayers who wounded him in the first place? Family members seeking vengeance? New slayers hoping for an easy kill from a wounded beast? Some enemy of Asterryl here to finish off their wounded guardian?

For now, none of it mattered.

The dragon flopped onto his haunches and opened the door with his good paw. Wind blew rain against him, splattering his green scales in cold waves. The fresh smell of rain and the hot stink of burnt ozone washed across the dragon's nose. Just beyond the door was a small shelter comprised of a few sturdy wooden poles staked in the ground, and heavy gray tarps lashed to them to provide a roof and walls. It served as respite from the rain for the guards assigned to the wounded dragon. The gray tarp walls wavered and shook in the wind, snapping. A soft glow from a lantern within cast a faint silhouette of the two seated guards against the tarp.

"Guards!" Alvaranox called out, fear sharpening his voice. "Come here at once!"

The guards shifted and rose to their feet, pushing the tarps aside to see what the dragon needed. Alvaranox hobbled back from the doorway to give them room to enter his home. Both men were wearing heavy, hooded green and black rain cloaks over their chain mail and their blue and gold surcoats. The first man inside pulled his hood back from his face. The dampness of his graying hair spoke to the less than effective nature of the rain shelter. He blinked bleary eyes.

"What is it, Dragon?"

"Men are coming to kill me," Alvaranox said, lashing his tail against the floor. The spines clattered and scraped the wood. "I will need your help, and more men as well."

"How many?" The first guard put his hand on the hilt of the sword strapped around his waist. He tilted his head towards the door, and the second guard vanished into the rain. "And where are they coming from?"

Alvaranox was glad they did not question him. They had no time to waste. "At least six. Last I saw them, they were slinking along an alleyway, near Green River Street, I believe. They have armor, and weapons."

The second guard returned a moment later with a large crossbow in his hands, and a bolt already loaded and ready. More heavy bolts were now strapped around the outside of his cloak. "Shall I ring the bell?"

"They'll know we're aware of them..."

"Can't be helped can it? We need back up. Just gotta hope the others can hear it over the storm."

"Wait a few minutes. I'm going into town, there's a guardhouse not far past the new wall. Dragon says they're coming down an alley near Green River. Stay here with him and the woman, and choose your shots carefully." He grabbed the other guards shoulder, squeezing for emphasis. "It can be hard to tell friend from foe in the rain and the dark, and I don't want to catch a bolt in the chest on the way back."

"I got it." The guard with the crossbow nodded, giving the older man a little grin. "Be safe, and get back soon."

The older guard slipped out into the rain. The one with the crossbow watched him sprint into the rain through the door. Alvaranox shifted himself, curling his tail. When the guard looked back at him, the dragon snorted. "Well, isn't this exciting."

"I think Alv just likes to give us a taste of what he goes through." Kirra spoke up as she walked back out of the visitor's quarters, fully dressed now.

Kirra had pulled on a loose dark-green blouse that matched her eyes, with spirals of golden thread running down each sleeve. She also wore breeches with a black scale-like pattern overlapping a gray background. It was the same outfit she'd worn during the hardest days of the dragon's recovery, and the most appropriate thing she had available. She'd buckled a long knife around her waist that she usually used for chopping through brush to get to herbs tucked away in hard to reach thickets. Her face looked set in stone.

"Whaddya mean?" The guard gave Kirra a confused look, shifting to peer out the door. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the heavy door mostly closed, watching only through a narrow crack.

"I mean, poor Alvaranox puts himself in danger every time the collar calls him to protect Asterryl." Kirra put her hand on the dragon's neck for a moment. "He's just decided to share a little of that danger with us so we better understand what he goes through."

Alvaranox snorted, flicking his frilled ears back. "As amusing as I find that sentiment, I assure you that I'd rather none of us have to go through this." The collar was still buzzing in his head. He reached up with his good paw, fidgeting with it. "How long will it take your man to fetch help?"

"Not more than a few minutes, hopefully." Lightning lit the world in a brilliant blue-white glow for a moment. The guard cursed as rumbling thunder accompanied the land's return to darkness. "Shit."

"What?" Alvaranox hissed his question, tugging at the collar a little more.

"I see one," the guard whispered. "Creeping along that new wall we're building. Tough shot from here."

"Are you alright?" Kirra asked the dragon, stroking his neck.

"Collar can go a little overboard on the warning," the dragon said, licking his nose. He lowered his head a little, trying to peer through the crack in the door.

Kirra lifted her hands and placed them on the dragon's collar. She traced the pads of her fingers over the raised images of the flying dragons that circled it. "Be calm," she whispered to the collar. "You are frightening him. Help him instead. Help us!"

Alvaranox groaned, his copper eyes rolling back in confusion as Kirra's words echoed in his head. He heard her voice in his ears, and through the collar he heard the words again. They rolled around in inside his mind, from one side to the other and back again, syllables jumbling up as they tumbled over each other while she continued to speak.

"Do not just blindly warn him. Show him the danger while he has a chance to focus on it! He is not your slave, he is your friend! Treat him as such."

The guard glanced back at Kirra, unsure who she was talking to. Not that it mattered. Who really knew just how the dragon and his handler interacted? For all he knew she could hear the dragon's thoughts. There were certainly enough rumors floating around after all. He had more pressing concerns. "I could try and take the shot. If I hit him, the others might not know it. But if I miss he's gonna get into cover. Even if I do hit him, he's gonna yell for help unless I can hit him in the throat. Maybe the rain will cover up his screams. What do you want me to do?"

Kirra gave the guard a baffled look. He was asking her? Probably used to taking orders and not so good at deciding things on his own. Or maybe it was because she was the dragon's handler. Normally they'd send the dragon out to do the dirty work, but that wasn't really an option. "Where are the others?"

"Not sure," the guard replied, scowling.

"Sneaking around us," Alvaranox said, his voice a drifting murmur.

The dragon closed his eyes, focusing on the flood of images the collar was suddenly sending him. It reacted to Kirra's words by not only easing back on the nerve-wracking buzz but by filling his head with visions. One at a time, it showed all him all six men. They'd split up and some were now working their way out into the fields and lands beyond Asterryl. Each took a different path and moved at a different pace. The man that the guard spotted was still a ways off but one of the others was nearly upon them.

"Behind us," the dragon hissed in alarm. He opened his eyes, then flared a green wing and flicked his wing-tip talon towards the back of the building. "Slipping through the grove of trees, coming up to the back of the building. He will reach us first."

"Right," the guard said. "There's cover by your pet fish. I think I can ambush him. Wish me luck!"

For once, Alvaranox didn't care about the P-word. He could always berate the man for suggesting he had a pet later, assuming they survived. As the guard slipped out into the rain and slunk around the side of the building, the dragon scowled. His stomach felt twisted into a nearly infinite series of knots, and now the painful clenching was extending into his bowels as well.

Alvaranox hated this. He felt helpless, relying on others for his protection. The fear the dragon felt was a strange, inescapable sort of terror he'd only experienced twice before. Once when he was sure he was bleeding to death and there was nothing he could do to stop the flow. The other time was when they'd bound him in Asterryl's central plaza and put the collar around his neck.

The dragon feared for the guards. He may not care about those people but he did not want them to die on his behalf. Alv feared for himself. What cruel fate would let him nearly recover from his life-threatening injuries only to have him snuffed out in his own home? Even more than that, he feared for...

"Don't be scared, Alv," Kirra said, doing all she could to keep her own voice steady. "It'll be alright, I promise."

The dragon knew it was the sort of hollow promise people only offered when things might turn out badly. Yet it comforted Alv anyway. He lowered his head and unashamedly pressed it against Kirra's body, whispering to her. "You are a fountain of strength whenever it is most needed, Kirra. Nylah was wise to choose you."

Kirra wrapped her hands around the dragon's wedge-shaped head, gently hugging him best she could. "I mean it! We'll get through this."

Alvaranox was not so sure, but that was not a debate he wanted to have. "How did you know? About the collar. As soon as you said that..."

Alvaranox didn't have to finish. Kirra knew from the way he'd instructed the guard that the collar had done as she asked it, putting helpful images in the dragon's head. "I didn't. But it reacted to me before, so why shouldn't it react to me now? I just thought, if anything could help us now it would be the collar." She let one of her hands drift down the dragon's neck until she touched the collar's engraved surface. Hard as stone yet as warm as the dragon himself, slightly pliable like leather. As her fingers brushed it, waves of cold fear clutched her heart. She pulled her hand away, and the sensations faded as swiftly as they'd come. "I can feel your fear through it. Maybe...maybe I can use it to calm you..."

"No," the dragon said sharply. "I don't want you playing around with my mind, Kirra. It's bad enough the damn thing's mixing up my memories."

"Of course," Kirra said, swallowing hard. She hadn't meant to imply anything unpleasant to the dragon. She just wanted to help.

For a few long moments, the two of them remained in silence. Kirra kept her arms around the dragon's neck, stroking his green scales. She wanted to keep him calm. Her own fear was like a tightly caged beast held deep inside her. Kirra wasn't even sure how she did it. Until the day she saw Alvaranox bloodied and dying, she'd never had to take charge like that before. She simply knew fear would cause her to hesitate and hesitation would lead to the dragon's death. Now it was the same thing. She had to be strong for Alvaranox, and for herself, and for the guards out there risking their lives.

It was a strange concept, trying to be strong for a dragon.

"Bet you can't wait till you're healed so you can go out there and wreak havoc again yourself, right?" Kirra laughed a little bit, trying to keep the dragon's spirits up.

Alvaranox only snorted. Every moment seemed to drag on longer than the moment before. He appreciated her attempt at levity, and did his best to share it. "I can tell you one thing." He gestured to the bandage upon his belly that kept the stitches protected. "I don't plan to let anyone stab me again."

"Good," Kirra said, smiling a little. "It's a shame it turns out you dragons are just blood and guts inside your bodies. If you were all magic power and ancient spirits, being run through wouldn't have even slowed you down."

"I don't even know where to begin with that, Kirra."

A scream muffled by the cascading waves of rain and billowing wind drew their attention. Alvaranox tensed up, unsheathing all his claws. Kirra put her hand on the hilt of her knife, and drew the blade a few inches from its scabbard. For a few seconds, all they could do was hope that scream hadn't come from the guard.

"If someone unfamiliar comes through that door, I am going to burn them," the dragon whispered.

Kirra nodded. That might be risking the life of an unfamiliar guard, but that was a chance they were going to have to take. The dragon drew in a breath and held it, ready to bathe the doorway in flames if anyone but a familiar face emerged from the rain. The doorway opened, and the dragon held his breath, ready to squeeze his fire glands.

"One down," said the guard with the crossbow as he slipped through the doorway, easing it closed again behind him. He knelt down on the floor, and began to load another bolt. Water dripped from his cloak and added to the puddles on the floor. He glanced up at the woman and the dragon glaring at him. "What?"

"I almost burned you," the dragon said, snorting. "You need a signal or something."

"I'll whistle next time," the guard said, setting the bolt in place. "Hit him in the chest. Leather armor but the bolt punched right through it. He was still breathing but wasn't gonna be calling out to anyone. Should be dead by now."

"So...you killed him..." Kirra swallowed, turning her eyes away. She nudged the toe of her boot against the ground. She'd never been around when anyone was killed before. She tried not to think about the things Alvaranox had to do for Asterryl. She knew in her heart if she was called upon to take a life to defend another, she would do so without hesitation. She also knew it would haunt her the rest of her days.

"If he's not dead yet, he will be in a few minutes." He glanced up at the dragon. "Who's next?"

Alvaranox shifted himself, opening a wing and pulling Kirra against his body. Kirra accepted the comforting embrace, stroking the dragon's scales a moment. She looked up at the dragon, reaching towards his collar. "Do you need my help?"

"I think I can handle it," Alvaranox said, though the sarcasm in his voice was outweighed by lingering fear.

Alvaranox called to the collar in his mind. Asked it to show him their enemies. To show him who was now the most immediate threat. The collar responded with dueling images. Alv saw flashes of two different men stalking towards his home through the rain. One of them was the same man who'd earlier been slinking along the stone wall that was still under construction. Now he was moving at a swifter pace through the meadow where Alv often lay in the sun. The other image showed a man who had taken a more circuitous route near the water-collection troughs for Stupid Fish's tank.

"There's one in the field across the way," the dragon said to the guard. "And another near Stupid Fish."

"I can only take one at a time with the crossbow," the guard said, gesturing with the weapon. "Then I need a moment to set a new bolt, otherwise I'll have to get in close with my sword."

"Take the one in the meadow." The dragon snapped his jaws, tossing his horned head. "No one gets near Stupid Fish."

"Alv, you can't..."

Alvaranox cut Kirra off. "You can dry me off and apply fresh bandages later, Kirra. The other three men still nearer the town. If he takes down the one in the meadow and I take the one by Stupid Fish, I should have plenty of time to get back here safely." Alvaranox wasn't entirely sure that was true, but he couldn't just sit here doing nothing while one of his guards was out there risking his life. "Ready?"

"Ready." The guard pulled the door open again and slipped out into the lashing rain.

Alvaranox followed behind the guard, flicking his flight membranes closed to keep the rain out of his eyes. The dragon did not have his foreleg sling on, so he had to hold his paw up against his chest as he moved out into the storm. Cold rain battered his scales and stung his wings in wind-driven waves. This was one of his more foolish ideas. He couldn't even walk properly, let alone fight. Any element of surprise they may have had was muted when the man in the meadow saw the dragon emerge from his home. He yelled something to his companion, and Alvaranox limped around the side of the building. At least the dragon's appearance would keep the men's attention off of the guard.

Alvaranox snarled to himself. "Stupid dragon. What do you think you're doing? Going to burn someone, that's what. Yes, good idea."

As the dragon moved along the side of his home, he spotted a crumpled body in the distance in a flash of lightning. The dragon turned his attention towards Stupid Fish's barrel and the troughs around it. Earlier in the day the guards had to disconnect the water collection pipes. Then they covered the top of the trough with an oiled tarp to keep the rest of the rain out. Alvaranox was worried about Stupid Fish getting flooded out of the barrel. With his luck the fat silver bastard would find himself washed into some puddle that would dry up as soon as the sun returned. Hopefully the influx of cold water would not harm the fish.

Alvaranox hobbled towards the troughs and water collection funnels. Last he'd seen the human, he was near this area. The dragon looked from trough to trough. Were they big enough for a man to hide behind? No way in hell he was going to venture between them now. He'd had enough of being ambushed. The dragon shivered, a painful memory flashing in his mind. Sharp pain throbbed in his wound. Alvaranox stepped back as if afraid the man could somehow reach him with a blade from any distance. He grit his teeth. Now was not the time to let fearful memories take hold.

The dragon hobbled around the troughs in a wide circle, staying well out of stabbing range of anyone who may be hiding amidst them. The other troughs were all overflowing with the rainwater pouring into them. Thunder rolled through the air. The land smelled of rain and wet earth. Muddy puddles and little streams sloshed beneath Alvaranox's paws. Already his bandages were soaked down to his stitches. At least he had Kirra here to deal with them. Like Stupid Fish's health and the identity of his attackers, his bandages were something he could worry about later. For now, he had far more pressing concerns.

Like the man suddenly lunging out of the shadows between two troughs and rushing at the side of the dragon's body with his blade. Wet steel flashed in a flicker of lightning, and the dragon reacted instinctively. He twisted himself a little and threw his weight back onto his hind legs, then lashed out with his front paw at the man coming up alongside him. Instead of sending the man flying through the air in a bloodied heap, Alvaranox found himself collapsing. In a moment that seemed to last hours, the dragon wondered what the hell was happening.

The splatter of cold mud all across his belly scales and the dull thud of pain ringing through his body reminded him of reality. He'd been standing on three legs. He was so used to hobbling around that way now it was almost natural. The moment he flung his good paw at his attacker he'd fallen forward onto his chest. Instead of a well aimed strike with his claws he'd managed only an ineffective flailing as he flopped down into the mud. Even as his chest hit the ground his haunches remained raised, his hind legs still up. Probably looked like a muddy hatchling about to pounce something.

When the dragon hit the wet ground mud sprayed everywhere. Some of it splattered against the face of the man charging at him. The man screamed in surprise as the mud got into his eyes. Stumbling back, he blindly swung his sword through air, fending off a wounded dragon he could no longer see.

That was fine with Alvaranox. No sense letting the man get his sight back. The dragon sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing fire glands as he exhaled. Flames burst from the dragon's muzzle, engulfing the would be dragonslayer. His scream died as soon as it began, cut off when fire seared his throat. The pouring rain hissed as it first evaporated around the burning man, then began to quell the flames. The damage was already done and already fatal. The man dropped his sword, stumbled, writhed in the mud a little and then went still.

Alvaranox grunted in pain, pushing himself back up onto his good paw. Water and thick globs of mud dripped from his belly to splatter against the puddles below. Hopefully no one saw his not-so-graceful battle, such as it was. Still, victory was victory. If anyone else saw it, he'd just tell them he did that on purpose. Yes, belly flopping into the mud was simply a distraction tactic.

Alv pivoted when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed his fire glands, readying more flame. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the increasingly familiar guard for a moment. He was busy loading a bolt into his crossbow, checking to make sure the dragon was alright. Alvaranox growled, deciding against telling the man he'd almost been burned alive for the second time. Instead he simply hissed at Stupid Fish's trough.

"Almost burned him again." He rapped his claws on the wet tarp covering Stupid Fish's barrel. "You stay safe in there, Fish."

Alvaranox limped back to his home. The guard slipped through the large doorway first, moving aside so the dragon could follow him in.

"Did you get him?" Alvaranox glanced at the drenched guard as he eased through the door, paws slapping against growing puddles on the floor. "I didn't hear a scream."

"Got him in the throat," the guard replied, setting his bolt. "Luck more than anything. Yours?"

"Dead," Alvaranox said, not wanting to elaborate more than that.

"So that's three left, right?"

"As far as I know."

"What happened?" Kirra rushed to Alv's side with towels and fresh bandages. She paused when she good a better look at the dragon. She'd lit a small lantern inside the dragon's home. The assassins already knew they were awake, no sense feigning slumber now. "You're covered in filth!"

Alvaranox glanced down at himself. The rain had already rinsed much of the mud from his body but much more yet remained. Wet globs of it splattered the floor of his sleeping chamber. Rainwater tinted brown by the muck sluiced along his belly and down his limbs. Alvaranox snorted and pinned his ears. "I went to play in the mud."

"Did you fall? Where do you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Kirra," Alvaranox said, a little too quickly. "You can inspect me later. Save the fresh bandages till then."

Kirra scowled but did not argue with the dragon. Alvaranox did not think she was simply giving into him the way she used too. She probably just realized the dragon was right. It was prudent to wait. No sense fussing over getting him clean and dry if he had to go back out to kill more men.

Kill more men.

Alvaranox was used to killing for the collar. Perhaps dragons were more naturally attuned to killing. He sometimes regretted the painful ways his enemies died, yet rarely did he dwell or fixate upon it for long. Their screams rarely haunted his dreams. He had killed many men for the collar in his long decades serving Asterryl. Yet something about this felt different. The collar had not sent him out to kill these men. These men had come to Asterryl to slay him. That made the second time in a month that men organized an attempt to take his life. The dragon feared something else was going on, something beyond bandits and dragonslayers.

Alvaranox feared the collar had opened a door not even a dragon had the strength to close.

He'd worry about that in the morning, if he saw it. By now the worst of his fear had ebbed away, replaced by a growing pulse of heart-quickening adrenaline. Venturing out into the rain to kill a man trying to claim his life helped with that. Alvaranox would never consider himself a monster, but battle was in a dragon's nature. Adrenaline came easily to their kind, sharp enough to cut through any fearful cloak that might wrap a dragon's heart.

Kirra, however, was not a dragon. Alvaranox looked down at her a moment, and his racing heart sank on her behalf. The red haired woman managed the rare feat of looking both calm and terrified. She was ready to do whatever she had to do to protect herself and the dragon. She gripped the handle of her knife tightly, and Alvaranox knew the blade would not shake if she had to draw it. Yet while her jaw was set, her green eyes were wide. Her eyes were the only part of her that trembled, the only betrayal of her deeper fear that lay inside her.

Kirra had seen the dragon through his darkest times and pulled him back from the edge of death. Kirra had seen men taken by sickness and age. Yet for Kirra, this was the first time she'd ever seen men slain by bolt, and fire. This was the first time she'd ever watched men die.

This was the first time her own life had ever been in danger.

Alvaranox pitied her a moment. She was losing her innocence by the moment.

Normally the dragon would hardly call a woman like her innocent. He knew some of the things she did with men she fancied, some of the things she playfully teased about doing for him when she'd had a bit to drink and Nylah wasn't around. She'd even spotted the dragon at an awkward time or two when he was half awake and more exposed than usual. That was not the sort of innocence the dragon was considering.

Kirra was losing her innocence to the blood shed for the collar. For Asterryl. Kirra had seen the dragon bleeding out and she knew in a detached way that he killed for the collar. But this was the first time she had been around him when he did so. Until now she remained shrouded by an innocent veil to what the collar made the dragon do. Now that innocence was shattered as men lay dead all around them.

Alvaranox opened a wing and wrapped it tightly around Kirra. She squeaked in surprise as he hugged her up against the green scales of his side. He lowered his wedge-shaped head, his copper eyes flickering like haunted spirits dancing in the lamplight. He did not want this for Kirra. Just as he had grown to trust her, so too he had grown to care for her as a friend. Not that he'd admit it.

Alvaranox knew Kirra thought of him as a friend as well. She deserved better than to have men trying to murder her friend in her own town. She deserved better than to have to see that friend forced to shed blood. She should not have to watch men die.

"I'm sorry, Kirra," Alvaranox said. The dragon's voice did not come easily. It was raspy, heavy with unexpected emotion. "You should not have to be part of this."

Kirra hugged herself against Alvaranox's side. Her own voice trembled, and while she sheltered under his wing, she tried to hide the fact she was wiping her eyes. Alvaranox saw her doing so but pretended he did not. "Don't you apologize to me, you mud-crusted newt! You didn't call these men here! This isn't your doing. None of this is your fault."

Kirra pulled back a little bit, thrusting an accusing finger at the black collar that ringed the dragon's neck. "That isn't your fault either. So don't you ever apologize to me for anything it makes you do." Kirra moved around to stand in front of the dragon, pressing her hand to the mud dappled plates of his chest. "You've a kind heart under all that armor, and nothing the collar makes you do can change that."

Alvaranox lowered his head to press his nose against her forehead. "I am not so sure you are right, Kirra, but I appreciate you saying so." Alvaranox sighed to himself. "Are you alright? I did not wish you to be exposed to this."

"No," Kirra admitted, stroking the wet green scales of the dragon's jaw line. "I am not alright, but I will be in time. If you can deal with this for so many years, I can certainly find a way to do the same."

Alvaranox decided against reminding her that in all his years as Asterryl's Guardian Slave, this was the first time anyone had come here to try and kill him. Instead he just offered her a purr he hoped was soft enough that the rain would wash the sound away before the guard at the door heard it. The dragon glanced towards the guard, who shrugged. No sign of the other three yet. Alvaranox nuzzled Kirra a moment longer and then pulled away, calling to the collar in his mind.

Where? Where are they? Show me the other three you cursed thing.

Images popped into the dragon's mind. One rain-soaked panorama replacing another, and another. He saw all three men. One crouched behind the trunk of an enormous willow. The rain soaked boughs hung all around him, hiding him from all but the most discerning eye. Alvaranox supposed it would be too much to ask to have lightning simply strike the tree and kill the man for him. Another man was hunkered down nearby, behind a half-built wall stacked with freshly quarried limestone blocks. The third was edging away from the first two, creeping along the willow-bough fence that surrounded the dragon's meadow.

"There's one moving along the willow fence, but he's a ways off yet." Alvaranox licked at the golden spot on the end of his nose. "The other two are holding positions in cover. I don't know why, unless they're hoping I'll come to them." His belly throbbed in objection to that idea. "Which I sure as hell won't be doing again."

"Cover?" The guard glanced up. "Where?" When the dragon explained, the guard scowled beneath his hood. Strands of soggy brown hair hung from within the oiled green and black cowl. "Probably setting up an ambush for my friends. They ought to be coming down the nearby road any moment. Could you see if either of them have bows or crossbows?"

Alvaranox shook his head. "No, but I could try. I am...unused to asking for this sort of detail. Usually the collar just shows me where I need to go, and who I need to kill."

The dragon pinned his frilled ears back against his wet head. If only he'd asked for greater details like this the day he was injured, he wouldn't limping around today. A shame it took such a grievous wound to teach the dragon what else the collar could do. For the last few decades he tried to interact with the damn thing as little as possible, tried to forget it was even there as often as he could. Now he was relying on a curse to keep Kirra and himself alive.

"Let's just assume they do," the guard said, leaning his crossbow up against the wall. "I'm going to ring our warning bell."

"You mentioned something about a bell earlier." Alvaranox sat on his haunches near the entryway to open the door for the guardsman. Fresh waves of rain lashed through the opening.

"When we set up this station outside your house, we thought we might need a way to call to each other quickly if there was an emergency." He shook water from his cloak as if it wasn't about to get soaked all over again. "Didn't use it earlier because we didn't want them to know we were aware of them. Hopefully now it will keep my friends from walking into an ambush."

The guard dashed through the rain and pushed his way through the tarp walls surrounding the hastily-constructed guard station. For a moment his form was silhouetted against the tarp. When he extinguished the lantern inside the shadowy outlines vanished, preventing him from being an easy target. A moment later the sharp, brassy sound of a bell rang out from inside the shelter. It was followed up by two more loud tolls. The dragon pinned his ears back at the sound, it reminded him too much of the bell that rang in his own head.

The guard soon emerged from the shelter, the heavy looking bronze bell in one hand and a little brass hammer in the other. "Three rings means be wary of danger," the guard said as he entered the dragon's home again. "Or at least I think that was the code. We just made it up."

"I don't suppose you have a number of rings that says watch out for a man hiding behind a tree and another behind a wall, do you?" Alvaranox flicked his tail, glancing back at Kirra as he pushed the door closed. Kirra was nervously drumming her fingers against the hilt of her knife and peering out the window. "Or perhaps a number of rings that says, someone slap Kirra on the ass?"

Alvaranox wasn't sure whose expression was more comically startled, Kirra's or the guard's. The guard stammered a bit. Unlike Kirra he didn't seem to realize the dragon was only jesting. "Wh...what?"

"Just trying to ease the tension a little," the dragon said, grinning at Kirra.

Kirra smiled for a moment, stuck her tongue out at Alvaranox, and then turned back to the window. Then she wriggled her rump at Alvaranox. The dragon blinked, snorted, and tossed his head. As if he cared to stare at the haunches of humans.

"Tease." Maybe he cared a little.

Once more the guard couldn't quite tell who was joking and who wasn't. He looked back and forth between the dragon and the woman till Alvaranox started laughing, flaring up his spines in amusement. He shook his wings out, a few lingering droplets of water flew off them. As Alvaranox folded his wings back against his body, he grinned at the guard. Finally the man threw his hands up as if deciding it was in his best interest not to ask. Whatever dragon and handler did together was not his business. If it took some kind of seductive witchcraft to keep his town safe, so be it.

The guard picked his crossbow up again, crouching down near the door. "Open the door a hair, will you Dragon?"

Alvaranox cracked the door open, a thin layer of rain and wind lashed through the small opening. "I have a name you know, Human."

"Oh?" The guard sounded at first surprised, and then sheepish. "I mean...of course you do. Wh-what is it?"

"None of your damn business," the dragon said, smirking.

The guard blinked, unsure how to take that. Until today, he'd never really interacted with the dragon aside from a few simple greetings, or to deliver some gift from the townsfolk. He tried to think back. Hadn't he heard the handlers use the dragon's name? "Isn't it...Al...Alv-something?"

The dragon growled low in his throat. "If we are all still alive tomorrow, I shall tell you then. So long as you promise not to tell anyone else."

"Since when are you so protective of your name?" Kirra looked back at the dragon over her shoulder, quirking a red brow.

"Since right damn now," Alvaranox replied, thumping his tail against the floor. The spines scratched the wood.

"Well I've been going around telling everyone I know your real name."

"You'd better not have-"

Screams muffled by rain suddenly drew everyone's attention. Alvaranox moved towards the door, and Kirra stood on her tip toes, looking out the window. "Who was that?"

"One of ours, I think," the guard said, fear creeping into his voice. "I can't see from here."

A moment later there was another scream, louder than the first. Almost immediately the sound of someone calling out orders rose just above the rain. Alvaranox dragged the claws of his good paw along the floor, hissing. "I think your friends just found that ambush. I should be out there helping them."

"We both should," the guard said, looking up at the dragon. "But you're in no condition for a prolonged fight, and I'd be an easy target running across that meadow. Still, maybe we can make a good distraction. Where's the one that was near the fence?"

Alvaranox focused a moment, calling to the collar to once more show him their enemies. Willow boughs appeared in his mind, assembling themselves into the framework of a familiar partition. A heartbeat later and a field of wet grass stretched out across his vision. The bright colors of the wildflowers were all washed out by the silvery gray shades of the rain-soaked night. Pine boards flickered in view, piecing themselves together into a bench. A man crouched behind it, nocking an arrow in a bow.

"In the meadow. Behind the bench. Looks like he's preparing to act as a sniper against your men."

"Damn," the guard cursed, then glanced at the dragon. "Let's see if we can take him first, without getting an arrow in the face ourselves."

The dragon snorted. He rather liked this guard's attitude. "Good idea."

As soon as the dragon spoke the collar buzzed around his neck. Alvaranox clutched his head a moment. The sound and sensation rattled his skull. "No, wait. It's not."

He focused on the image again, and flickering pictures painted across his mind, like pages turning in a book. The two men who'd set up the ambush were moving from hidden spot to hidden spot, taking potshots at the group of guards who'd come to assist the dragon. Every time the guards took up a new position, or dragged off an injured man, the assassins moved again before they could be properly located. Meanwhile, the man behind the bench had turned his attention towards the building with the crouched dragon carved upon its door. He began to advance, arrow nocked and aimed at the entryway.

"He's coming here." Alvaranox nudged the guard with his head, pushing him back. "Stay away from the door, he's ready to shoot anyone comes through."

The guard nodded, moving back from the door. "Right. So we wait for him to lower his bow, and try to slip the door open. Then I pop him in the face with my crossbow, or run him through." He glanced around the room. "Do your windows open? I could slip through a window."

"A moment," the dragon said, hissing. "He's...advancing right towards the door. Probably has poison on his arrow, hoping he can slay me in a single shot."

Kirra bit her lip. "You should be inoculated against every poison. Well, at least the poisons we know of and can inoculate against. If its something from some faraway land we might not have seen it before."

"Thank you, Kirra," the dragon said, tossing his head. "That was almost comforting." He reached out, opening the door a crack so that a little lamplight shone through.

"What are you doing?" Asked the guard, moving to close the door.

Alvaranox stopped him. "Giving him a chance to think he can nudge the door open with his boot, or fire an arrow at anyone waiting to ambush him on the other side of that crack."

"Why the hell would you..."

Without further explaining, the dragon raised his voice, wanting the man creeping towards them to hear it over the rain. "Kirra! Quickly! Stand on the other side over there with your knife at the ready. As soon as he comes inside, stab him!"

Alvaranox flared his black and grin wing, blocking Kirra off from the entry. He didn't want her to think he really wanted her to stand in harms way. Then he flicked the talon at his wingtip towards the guard as well, urging him to back away.

"What are you-"

"I never liked this door much anyway."

"Alvaranox!" Kirra hissed through grit teeth. "If you're going to do what I think you're doing to do..."

"Probably am," the dragon muttered.

"You could injure yourself! If you even think about it, I will kick you in the stones, Dragon!"

"I should hope you'll at least wait to see if we survive or not." He splayed his ears out, flaring his crests, then smirked. "You know, if you keep talking like that, you're going to end up treating me like Nylah after all.

"I'm starting to see the benefit to her methods!" Kirra glared at the dragon, but went silent as he began to focus himself.

The collar sent moving pictures into his mind. He watched the man with the bow creep ever closer. As he drew near the building, Alvaranox took a few steps back, lowering his head. Kirra scowled, glaring at the dragon as though she couldn't decide whether to wish him luck or make good on her threat before he had a chance to do anything crazy. As soon as the assassin was standing just outside the door, Alvaranox put his plan into action.

It wasn't much of a plan, really, but it was all he had. The dragon rushed forward with all the admittedly less than impressive momentum he could manage on three paws, and hurled himself at the door. He leapt forward, using powerful hind legs to propel himself through the air, and threw his horned head against the door like a battering ram. Hinges that were sturdy by human standards shattered easily under the might of even an injured dragon. The door itself cracked as it exploded out of its frame. Freed from broken hinges the door nearly became a projectile, smashing straight into the bow-wielding assassin. The door knocked him backwards, he cried out as he stumbled and fell only to find the broken door falling atop him.

The dragon was next. His head ringing, skull aching, the dragon continued to surge forward. Knocking the door off its hinges had hardly slowed his momentum and as it collapsed atop the stricken man, Alvaranox leapt onto it. The dragon's full weight was far more than a human's body could bear. A series of sickening crunching sounds accompanied a strangled cry of agony that lasted a few moments longer than the dragon would have liked. Alv felt the battered door shifting as bones were crushed beneath it. He kept his weight upon it till he was sure the man was dead. Then he tipped his horned head back, roaring his victory to the angry skies.

The skies answered with lightning and thunder.

"What the hell was that?!" The guard inside the dragon's sleeping chamber cried.

"A distraction," the dragon snarled back at him. If that hadn't given their friends a chance to regroup against distracted enemies, nothing would.

"Alv, you addle-minded lizard!" Kirra screamed at him from inside the house. Now she definitely sounded like Nylah. "You could have broken your damn neck!"

"Didn't seem very likely at the time," Alvaranox said, climbing off the shattered door, trying not to think about the mess that no doubt lay beneath it. He quickly hobbled back into the building. "Handler, I require a new door."

Alv half-expected Kirra to grab his ears like Nylah and twist them till he was squealing for mercy. Instead she threw her arms around his wet neck when he lowered his head, hissing into his ear. "You dumb idiot. You scared me half to death! You're lucky you didn't crack your skull or break your horns off!"

"I think dumb idiot is a bit redundant, Kirra," the dragon said, chuckling to himself. "That leaves two of them, and with any luck your own people will finish them off."

While the dragon and handler embraced, the guard peeked through the now wide open doorframe. Lightning flashed and gave him a decent view across the meadow. He shifted his crossbow, trying to track a target. At long distance it was tough through the rain. "Looks like it worked, dragon. Your door-battering and roar must have distracted them enough for our men to advance. Looks like a pitched battle going but they should be able to bring the other two down. I can see one trying to get back into cover."

"The sooner they kill them the sooner I can get back to sleep," the dragon said, offering Kirra a halfhearted smile.

Alvaranox doubted he'd get any sleep now. Too many questions to roll over inside his own head. Survival was wonderful, but he was less fond of all the uncertainty that came with it. And when Nylah woke and heard what was happening she'd be out here in an instant. Hopefully she wouldn't try and pin all this on him. Something else occurred to him. They'd heard screams earlier.

"I hope your friends are alright," the dragon said, lowering his voice. Alvaranox did not want to come off as condescending, or make it seem as though the guards lives were an afterthought to him. If they'd died, they'd died protecting him. The moment he realized that it began to weigh upon his heart. People had died because of him, but they'd always brought it upon themselves by endangering Asterryl. No one had ever died for him, before.

"I don't think they...well..." The guard didn't want to say it. His voice trembled a moment, the crossbow shook in his grasp before he steadied himself. "I hope they are too."

It was clear enough that the guard did not think they'd all survived. Right now he was probably just fighting the urge to start thinking about which friends he may have lost, and which may have survived. Uncomfortable silence settled in amongst them. The fearful silence it had a growing oppressiveness to it, drowning out even the rain and the storm until the dragon could hear nothing at all.

Only when it seemed they were finally safe was the silence broken. The guard leaned his crossbow against the wall, heaving a sigh. "I think that's the last of them. I'll stay here with you, until we know for sure. Then...then I..."

Alvaranox knew what he was thinking. Then I have to go see how many friends I lost.

Guilt dragged the dragon's heart towards the floor. Men had died tonight, and they had died for him.

The dragon settled on his haunches near the guard, and reached out with his front paw. He gently placed it upon the man's shoulder, squeezing him in what he could only hope was a comforting gesture.

"My name is Alvaranox. I would be honored to have you use it."

---

Chapter Ten

---

The moors stretched on forever. To the tiny green dragon who bound across boulder-strewn hills, there was no end to the emerald world. The grass was soft and the sun was warm. The hatchling was always happy. The burning of his little legs was outweighed by joyous exuberance as he raced up another hill. At the top of the rise he scrambled up a snaking ridge of gray rock. Tiny black claws caught purchase in crevices and patches of moss as the hatchling climbed. When he stood atop the highest point the could find, he tipped his stubby-horned head back, roaring to the brilliant blue skies.

"Rraaaaaaahh!" At his age it was more joyful squeal than ferocious roar.

The roar that echoed was deep and resounding, full of primal strength and wild power. To the little hatchling that roar could have shaken the clouds from the sky. It rattled loose pebbles atop the ridge of rock, sent lizards skittering for hiding places. Yet the hatchling was unafraid. That roar was not a thing of terror or anger. For the little dragon, that reverberating cry, that earth-shaking roar held only love because it came from his mother.

"Momma, look!" The hatchling chirped down at his mother from atop the peak that seemed so high. "I'm bigger than you!"

Mother lifted her head until she was peering down at her son once more. She smiled at him. She flared her spines a little bit, and nuzzled her son. Her own pebbly scaled muzzle was nearly half as big as he was. "Not quite, my love."

"No fair!" The little dragon huffed, flicked a tail that had yet to grow spines, and promptly swatted his mother on the nose.

Mother yanked her head back, her neck curling into an S. "Ow!" She rubbed her nose with a paw, narrowing copper eyes at her son. "No hitting, Love. Unless you want a swat on the haunches."

"I'mma swat you on the haunches!" The hatchling giggled to himself. "Catch me!"

Without giving his mother a chance to prepare, the little hatchling launched himself off the rocky rise straight for his mother's head. Wings not yet big enough to carry him flared on instinct alone. In a flash his mother snapped her jaws, delicately catching her son by his neck. For a moment he hung as limp as a chastised kitten hoisted by its scruff. All four limbs dangled, and the tiny dragon's copper eyes widened in pure hatchling astonishment. How had Momma done that?

Before he began to wriggle, Mother set her son down. Once the youngling had his paws under himself, he bounded off across the hill. "Catch me again, Momma!"

The two dragons shared layers of green coloration that naturally camouflaged them against the emerald sprawl of the wilds where the hatchling was born. The hatchling's greens were paler than his mother but would dark by adulthood. His mother held shades of both, darkest green along her back and palest across her belly. Golden spots marked her wings, and her haunches, with faint gold barring across her limbs. Her son inherited only one such marking at the end of his nose. She had no black mottling. The black markings her son inherited from his father were little more than speckles as a hatchling, though they'd grow more pronounced with age.

The hatchling came to a stop, shadows flickered in his vision. He recalled glimpses of a sleek black dragon from his earliest days.

Where was...Father...?

Something...happened...

The world flickered again. The horizon seemed smudged. Though the hatchling's eyes were open, when he thought of his father the world looked as though he could not stop blinking. Barely perceived shadows darted across his vision and he tried to blink them away. Then the world was clear again, and father was once more forgotten.

"Momma, catch me!" The hatchling bound on again, playing with his mother.

The hatchling sprinted down a steep hill. Layers of soft grass and green moss coated it, dotted with gray-blue sage and rare red heathers. The hatchling's forepaws clipped one another and sent him into a head over tail stumble. Instinctively he pulled his wings tight to protect them as he toppled the rest of the way down, stomach lurching and tail flopping about.

"Wheeeeeeee!" He came to a stop in a small, green scaled heap. Before his mother even had time to worry about him, he untangled his limbs and jumped back to his paws. The hatchling grinned up at his mother as she trotted down the hill. "I'mma do that again!"

"No you aren't," Mother said, laughing. The green scaled dragoness wove between several misshapen boulders dotted with yellow lichen. She dropped her wedge shaped head, copper eyes shining with love as she gently picked her son up in her jaws. Carrying her hatchling, she padded across the moor towards the sound of burbling water. The scent of it clung to the air, fresh and inviting. She set the youngling back down on a patch of lush velvet moss that lined the bank of the stream. "We were coming this way to get a drink, not so you could go rolling yourself down the hills again."

The little dragon giggled to himself. He bounced on his paws a few times. The green ground felt springy and soft. Tiny red bulbs atop slender crimson tendrils stuck up from the moss. He flattened a few down beneath his paws, and watched with the sort of wonder only a child could truly possess as they sprang back up.

"Look, momma!" He stepped on another tendril, and then moved his paw to show his mother how the red stalk stood right back up again.

His mother smiled, and licked his face a few times. Then she gestured with her slender green muzzle towards the fresh, clean water that ran just beyond the edge of the moss. "Drink your water, Alv."

Alvaranox nodded. A deep, burning thirst suddenly filled him. He padded to the edge of the stream. He lowered his head, sniffed at the water. It smelled clean, fresh, delightful. The water always smelled good here. He lapped at it. It was cold and pure, and quenched the thirst the young dragon must have built in all his play. When his little belly was full of water and his throat no longer burned, he lifted his head. Tiny beads of water clung to his pebbly green scales. He licked them off, smiling. "It's good!"

Alvaranox's mother smiled at him, nodding her agreement. She lowered her own head and lapped at the water a while. As she drank, the hatchling butted his head up against her forepaws, then nuzzled her limbs. He was soon purring, happy just to be with his mother. She was the only dragon he knew, and he loved her with all his heart. He knew of nothing else beyond the moors, nothing but happiness here with his mother.

His belly rumbled as the water that sat in it brought on a hunger pang. He smacked his mother's paw with his own. "I'm hungry, mother! Hunt food!"

"I'm hungry too, Alv," his mother said, licking his muzzle again. "Will you be good and stay here while I hunt us some food?"

Alvaranox peered around the area as if wondering where else he could possibly go. "Yes!"

"Alv..."

"What?" Alv cocked his head. That didn't sound like his mother's voice.

"Alv, you need to wake..."

"Oh, damn," Alvaranox snapped. A very unhatchling-like thing to say.

Alvaranox slowly lifted his head from the new pillow Nylah had made for him. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of his home. It seemed after the storms had finally broken the clouds were not far behind. He blinked bleary copper eyes a few times, waiting for his vision to focus. Kirra stood next to him, wringing her hands together. He glared at her, licking his nose.

"I was having a nice dream," he said, stretching a paw out. He smiled a little bit, letting the images from the dream linger as long as possible. "It's strange, though. I don't recall having my memories turned into dreams until the collar started having its hissy fits. But, I don't mind dreaming about that. About her."

"Alv," Kirra said again, sharpening her voice. "I'd love to hear about your dreams later, but right now you need to get up. The Council is here to see you. They're waiting outside."

Alvaranox flared his spines, gnashing his teeth. "Of course they are."

"Let me help you get your sling on." Kirra fetched the dragon's white cloth sling, and as he rose up, she began to tie it around his limb and neck. By now the process was second nature for both of them. "Nylah is already outside. We wanted to get them to wait a little longer, but after the attacks..."

"Yes, yes," the dragon said, snapping his jaws. "I understand. They're going to have to wait a little longer, though."

"I don't think they're going to..."

Alvaranox lashed his tail against the wall, spines gouging the logs. "Unless they want to watch me take a piss, they will wait. If you wish put it to them in more polite terms, feel free. Otherwise that is exactly what I am going to tell them. Now give me a moment to collect myself."

Kirra smirked a little, rubbing the golden blotch at the end of the dragon's nose. "Alright. I'll tell them you've your natural duties to attend first. They're out in the meadow when you're ready."

"I liked my way better," the dragon said, smirking at Kirra as she left.

Once Alvaranox was alone, he took a deep breath, his chest plates expanding. For a moment he simply held the air in his lungs, closing his eyes. Trust the damn Council to interrupt dreams of a better time in his life. Normally his dreams were abstract, shifting frequently. While memories might be mixed in, when he woke they rarely seemed real. Yet this dream felt like a memory from his childhood played out in full across his mind. It was not the first time he'd had such a dream lately, either. As Alvaranox let out his breath, he scratched at the collar with a wingtip talon.

"I suppose there are worse things you could make me dream about again."

Alvaranox made his way to his water trough where he took a long drink. To his dismay the water did not taste anywhere near as pure or delicious as the water in his dream. Then again, did anything ever seem as wondrous as it did when he was a hatchling? To a child, everything was a joy. Alvaranox wondered if the water would have tasted sweeter if he was still free.

The dragon pushed his way through his makeshift front door. It would be a little while yet before he had a new front door. Alv had made it quite clear he didn't want it to be adorned by dragons that looked drunk or constipated this time. Instead, he convinced Kirra to let the woodcarvers use her drawings as guide and inspiration. He wanted a door that depicted him as he truly was.

But that would take some time. While Alv waited, Kirra had a tradesmen create several large blankets out of well tanned animal hides stitched together. Then she had them hung over the dragon's entryway to keep out the elements and the onlookers as well. They did not keep out sound as well as the door had, but they would do for now.

Alvaranox squinted. The bright morning sunlight hurt his eyes, and caused their copper hues to shine golden. Alvaranox gave the meadow only a cursory glance as he limped around the side of his home. Already there were far too many people gathered there for his liking. Both his current handler and his previous handler were there, plus a whole host of guards and the members of the council themselves. Wonderful. Being questioned and blamed was just the way the dragon liked to start off a morning not long after surviving an assassination attempt.

Alvaranox hobbled to his little secluded grove of trees to empty his bladder. In the process he gave a long, satisfied sigh in the hopes of making the upstanding council members feel uncomfortable. The dragon wasn't sure if any of them could actually hear him but it was worth a try. Their embarrassment was his amusement. When he was done, he left the grove of trees but did not head straight to the meadow.

Instead, Alvaranox went to visit Stupid Fish. Someone had already come and removed the oiled tarp from the fish's trough. Thanks to all the rain, the water nearly overflowed the barrel. Alvaranox peered inside. He lowered his muzzle, looking for the fish in the murky water. His reward was a fat, silvery whisker emerging and slapping him on the nose. Alv yelped and pulled his head back, startled.

"Good morning to you too, Fish." The dragon pushed his foreleg into the sack of grain leaning against the trough. It was soggy, and a little slimy. He scrunched his muzzle. "Shall have to have someone bring you fresh grain. This will have to do for now."

Alvaranox dropped the pawful of grain into the trough. It clumped together more than usual, sinking through the murky water. Before long, the fish's broad, silver tail was swirling at the surface at the water as he began to suck clumps of grain up off the bottom of the barrel. Alvaranox watched for a moment, turning his head when the fish's tail broke the surface and sent cold droplets splattering his face.

"Watch the damn tail, Fish." Alvaranox snorted, lifting his spines a little.

The dragon peered around the area. Though the clouds were gone it would likely take days for the sun to dry up all the mud that remained. In the process the wet stink of old mud was starting to displace the freshness of the rain's lingering aroma. Nearby, an area of torn sod and muddy ruts reminded the dragon he'd fallen on his belly when trying to attack the man rushing him. He'd gotten lucky. Alvaranox's heart sank for a moment. The rules were changing.

"It isn't fair," the dragon said, licking his nose. "I'm supposed to be safe in my barrel, Fish. I hate this place. I hate being bound here, but at least I was safe." The dragon's spines sagged against his head, his frilled ears drooped. "It isn't fair."

Alvaranox turned away from the fish, and trudged towards the meadow. Until now it hadn't quite sunk in that he'd been attacked in his barrel. Was it not enough that he was bound here? Forced to protect this ungrateful town for all of his days? Was it not enough that he was sent to face every danger that slunk forth from the shadows? Now the danger was coming to find him.

The dragon didn't even know who had tried to kill him, either. When things had settled down, the guards had gathered up the bodies of the six men who gave their lives trying to slay the dragon. They did not share any distinguishing characteristics. None of them bore the silver armor or the red-edged cloaks of the dragon slayers. None of them had any kind of uniform at all, or anything else that might shed light on why they were here. They didn't even seem to have all come from the same part of the world. Some of them had very pale skin, others quite dark. A few looked as though they'd spent their lives under a burning sun tilling fields, while one looked as though he'd spent a life indoors. Aside from their weaponry, they had little on them to help identify them.

The guards' theory was that they'd heard that Asterryl held a wounded dragon within its walls, and wished to come and slay the beast. Perhaps they thought if they could ambush him in the night, they could kill him, butcher him, and make off with the most valuable parts before the sun rose. It seemed a stretch to the dragon himself, but he could offer no counter.

Nor would he wish to argue with any of the guards right now, not while they were grieving. They had lost two of their own in their attempts to protect the dragon. One man took an arrow through the lung, another in the throat. A third was also wounded but expected to survive. Alvaranox found himself unexpectedly sorrowful on their behalf. They had died trying to protect him. Part of the dragon felt as though if they'd just released him years ago, none of this would have happened. Yet he could not shake the feeling of guilt associated with men dying for him any more than he could shake the scales from his body.

Wet mud squelched under his forepaw as he crossed the dirt lane that lead from the town to his home. The dragon scowled. He shook his paw, brown globs flew in all directions. He tried to hobble around the worst of the mud that still caked the path. As soon as he passed through the open gateway in the willow bough fence that ringed his meadow, he paused to wipe his paws on the grass. Brown streaks marked the green carpeting.

The rains brought an eruption of color to the meadow as new wildflowers bloomed everywhere. Red and orange blossoms spread in large swaths. A few spiraling yellow blooms sat atop spindly green stalks as if supervising the other flowers. Clusters of blue trumpet-shaped flowers hung from running vines that grow so swiftly Alv half-feared they'd twine around him if he stood still too long. Alvaranox tried not to trample any of the flowers, though the various humans in his meadow were already doing just that. At least he knew they'd grow back.

When Kirra trotted up to him, the dragon noticed she'd dressed a bit more formally than usual. Technically the Council were her bosses, so she no doubt wished to make a good impression. Still, at this point if they tried to have her removed from her duties as his Handler, the dragon would demand her immediate reinstatement. He might not be able to harm anyone in this town, but he could damn sure make a mess of things and a nuisance of himself until they gave into his demands.

"Don't you look fancy," Alvaranox said, lowering his head to nose at Kirra's silver blouse. Hints of black threading in knotted patterns hemmed the sleeves.

"Don't you start," Kirra said, fidgeting with her skirt a little. It was the opposite of her blouse, black with silver spirals that ran around the waist, and the hem. She lifted a foot, showing off the mud caking her black leather shoe. "Brand new shoes, and all this mud is already ruining them. Trying to keep it off my skirt, though."

"Perhaps you should go naked, then." The dragon grinned at her, lifting his spines.

Kirra's face reddened a little, and she poked the dragon between his nostrils. "Mind out of the gutter, you dirty beast. Besides, that's not the sort of impression I'd like to make on the Council. Now come on. You're already late."

Kirra turned and stalked off towards the group, wiping her muddy shoes off on the grass a few times. Her skirts swished around her ankles. As the dragon followed Kirra, he watched the sway of her hips. The dragon knew he'd been stuck in so-called civilization too long when even the haunches of a human woman caught his attention. He licked his nose, and followed after her.

"I cannot be late if I do not have an appointment to keep," the dragon said as much to himself as to anyone else.

The group was gathered near the table and benches set up in the middle of the meadow. Nylah was standing in the midst of the three Council members and their bodyguards. Why a group of only three people called themselves a Council and not a Trio the dragon would never know.

Nylah was busy fielding their questions. Alvaranox was sure she was better suited to that than Kirra. Even without the added benefit of years of experience, Nylah simply never tumbled into verbal chasms Kirra could scarcely climb out of. Kirra moved to stand alongside Nylah, her hands behind her back.

Where Kirra had chosen a blouse and a skirt that to the dragon seemed suitable for dinner with someone important, Nylah had chosen the opposite look. She wore a more straight cut, long sleeved tunic in a slate gray color. Golden buttons marked it in a few places. She also wore black breeches, golden thread along the seams matched the buttons of her shirt. To the dragon Nylah's clothing almost said yes, this is important, but I'll still kick your asses if you give my dragon too much trouble.

Alvaranox settled down behind Kirra and Nylah, curling his spined tail around his three paws. His other front paw was held against his chest by the white-cloth sling. He cocked his wedge-shaped head, fixing copper eyes upon the council members. He expected them to immediately start peppering him with questions. Instead, they all glanced up at him, but aside from that barely even seemed to acknowledge his presence.

"And why were there not better preparations made for this sort of possibility?" The oldest of the three council members thrust his finger at Nylah. "Why were more guards not stationed at all access points leading to the dragon?"

"With due respect, Councilman Burr," Nylah said, giving a little bow that was as sarcastic as it was formal. "Security and assignment of guards is not my responsibility, nor my duty. In fact, I had to press quite hard just to get two guards assigned to the dragon. Were my recommendations listened to immediately, this might have been preventable."

The only female council member folded her arms across her chest, glaring at Nylah. "Well, someone has to pay for a mistake of this magnitude. Who did you file your requests for guards with?"

"Two men lost their lives," Nylah said. The fire flickering in her polished topaz gaze could have burned the woman away in an instant. "I assure you, the mistake has been paid for. I have no interest in assigning further blame. I only wish to make sure it does not happen again."

Alvaranox smirked to himself. It had been years since he'd seen Nylah deal with a council interrogation. If anything, she handled it with even greater aplomb and even less regard for their precious rules of decorum than before. The dragon wasn't sure but he suspected Nylah knew they'd be coming today, and showed up ahead of time to address them in Kirra's stead as much as possible.

Later, Alv might have to tease Nylah about coming out of retirement already.

"How long until the dragon is ready to fight again?" The Council members all turned their attention to Kirra as the question was clearly directed at her.

Kirra cleared her throat with a little growl, straightening out her blouse. She wrung her hands. "I don't know."

For some reason, that answer made Alvaranox smile.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" The female council member stepped towards Kirra, glaring at her. "That is unacceptable..."

"I mean, I cannot predict the date of a dragon's complete recovery from such life threatening wounds any more than you could predict when that poor guard who took an arrow in his belly will return to active duty." Kirra straightened her back as if drawing strength from her own words. She waved at the dragon as he sat behind her. "Every creature in the world heals at a different rate. While he is healing swifter than a man would, it is still an arduous process. A painful process, for which I would hope you would have a little more respect and understanding."

Alvaranox flicked his frilled ears back. A strange sort of pride was growing in his chest, and he quickly tried to tamp down on it. There was no way in hell he was going to be proud of Kirra for anything. As the group questioned her a little more, the dragon turned his attention to glaring down at them and looking dour. Dragons were good at looking dour, he thought.

As the Council continued to quiz Nylah and Kirra, the dragon found himself growing increasingly irritable. He did not like being treated as though he were not there. Not one question was directed at him. They scarcely even looked at him unless Nylah or Kirra pointed him out, or indicated one of his wounds or scars. At first he thought they were simply ignoring him to make a point. But soon, the dragon began to feel it was worse than that. Did they not even realize he could understand them? They kept referring to him as "the dragon." Alvaranox felt like a guard dog sitting patiently, unaware that its owners were discussing its fate.

Alvaranox was perfectly aware, and getting tired of it.

"Why do you ignore me?" The dragon asked, cutting off Nylah in mid-sentence. His two handlers glanced up at him, and Alvaranox caught a hint of amusement flicker in both green and hazel eyes. "I am not an animal, you know."

"What...do you mean, Dragon?" The oldest member looked up at the dragon.

Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He took the momentary quiet to size up all three council members as he glared down at them. The two males were nearly opposites. One was quite old, with white hair and a thin frame, though his gaze remained sharp rather than rheumy. The other seemed little older than Kirra, with dark hair, bleary eyes and a body that spoke of too many late nights enjoying the privileges of position. The female was somewhere in the middle, not quite as old as Nylah, piercing eyes like a hawk. From what the dragon could tell she seemed to take the best care of herself out of the three of them. Each wore similar clothing, gold and blue. Tunics and breeches for the men, a dress for the woman. All three had Asterryl's emblem emblazoned upon their shoulders. Each also had a couple of bulky, armor-clad bodyguards standing behind them.

"I mean," Alvaranox said, hissing through sharp teeth. "That I am weary of being discussed like an animal. I am not an animal. I think, I reason, I fear, I hope, and if it were not abundantly clear, I speak." The dragon settled back against his tail, lifting his good forepaw to tap the collar around his neck with an unsheathed claw. "Believe it or not, I also yearn for freedom. So long as you keep me bound here to your town, enslaving me to its protection, I would appreciate it if you would show me a little more respect. I would also appreciate it if you would show my handlers more appreciation for all their hard work."

Alvaranox set his paw back down, licking his nose. He waited just until one of the Council members opened their mouth to speak, and then cut them off. "Let me answer a few of your questions, idiotic as they may be. I will be ready to fight for your town again as soon as my body is healed. No, I do not know how long that will take, but I assure you I am even more weary of days spent in agony than you are of wondering when I will take to the skies again. While you were busy berating some servant boy for serving your soup that's a little too cold, I was busy trying not to bleed to death. So stop asking when I'll be ready to fight!"

The dragon flared his wings and snapped his jaws. All three council members stepped back, glancing at each other. At the same time, their bodyguards stepped forward. Alvaranox knew he couldn't actually harm them. They likely knew the same thing. But he did not mention it. A little momentary fear would do all of them a little good.

"For your next question," the dragon said, softening his tone. "No, I have no idea who attacked me, why they attacked me, or how they knew I was in this town, wounded. I am sure it was common knowledge now that Asterryl has a guardian dragon, and in the time since I was wounded, no doubt knowledge of that event got out as well. The people who actually wounded me may be dragonslayers, but that is merely a guess."

Alvaranox pinned his ears back against his head as painful memories drifted behind his copper eyes. "They set up an ambush for me, and clearly knew I would arrive to protect those blasted ruins on Asterryl's behalf. They all had the same uniform, and armor, and when I can fly again, I will return to see if any of it is left. If it hasn't already been made off with, it will make an excellent trophy. Whoever attacked me last night probably infiltrated your town separately, and got together after dark to slink over here. The collar notified me as soon as they became an active threat to me." The dragon rubbed at the collar again, hissing. "It had been giving me other little warnings before that, but..."

"Why didn't you respond immediately then?" The question came from the youngest council member, getting some of his courage back. "Those guards might still be alive if you hadn't hesitated."

"Perhaps you should have the collar removed, and slapped around your neck for a while." Alvaranox growled, lashing his spined tail at the earth. Chunks of sod and grass sprayed across the meadow. "We will see how quick you are to respond to nebulous, distant warnings after years spent trying to forget the damn thing. Do not forget, human, that I consider this thing a curse your town has inflicted upon. You may see dragons as monsters, you may see me as a monster, but I do not see myself that way. I am a creature who longs for freedom, yet knows he will never have it. So forgive me if I am not so quick to rouse to every tiny little nudge the collar may give my mind. Perhaps next time instead of trying to rest and heal, you would prefer it if jumped to my feet at the tiniest cautionary sound, ran around like a female in her first heat looking to get mounted, and ended up injuring myself even worse in the process. Then you can all come back and ask how much longer I'll be healing."

A silence settled over the meadow. For the Council it was uncomfortable. For the dragon, it was amusing. He felt as though he'd just won a little victory against his oppressors. Alvaranox decided that meant it was time to end this little meeting for now. No doubt they'd want another one in the future, and if they had any sense they would schedule it in advance. Attempt to speak with the dragon when he was in a better mood.

"On that note," the dragon said, rising back to his paws. "This interrogation is over. My handlers have done nothing but an exemplary job, and I have done everything for you short of literally giving my life. I came terrifyingly close to that, as well. Until you think up some questions designed to help instead of blame, we are done."

"Alv, I think..." Kirra spoke up, but Alvaranox folded his wing over her.

"In summation," the dragon said, snorting. "We are all doing the best we can, and I will fight when my body is healed. Assign more guards, order travelers and newcomers to be kept under careful watch, and order an investigation into where those dead men came from and why they wanted to kill me." Alvaranox grinned down at Nylah, folding his other wing over her as well. "That was easy. Perhaps they should make me a councilman instead."

Alvaranox turned slowly, guiding the two woman with his wings. He hoped it looked as though he was dragging them away from there. Yet as far as he was concerned, he was rescuing the two of them from a Council who seemed to wish to do nothing more than find someone to berate and belittle. It was hardly the fault of the dragon and his handlers that people had come to kill him. And it was unfair of those in power to try and shift the blame onto those responsible for the dragon's wellbeing.

The very idea of it made Alvaranox growl. As he limped off with Nylah and Kirra sheltered beneath his wings, he called back. "Oh, and Council? Until you treat my handlers and myself with the respect we deserve..." Alvaranox hoisted up his tail, flashing his green dragon testicles. "You can all kiss these!"

---

Chapter Eleven

---

"I don't want to go to the market, Kirra."

Alvaranox lay on warm grass, his vast green wings outstretched in the golden morning sunshine. All around him stretched a blanket of soft green. The sun-warmed grasses were interwoven with vast tapestries of vibrant color. The wildflowers that sprang up after the storms had nearly conquered the entire meadow. Clusters of cherry red flowers and tall stalks covered in tiny purple blossoms were the most recent additions to the rainbow of wild colors. A clear trail of flattened grass and crushed flowers marked the area walked from his home to the middle of the meadow every day. A wider area of meadow had long since rebounded from the trampling boots of the Council and their guards.

"Come along, Sling." Kirra giggled. "You need the exercise before you get your stitches out."

Alvaranox scrunched his muzzle and flared his spines. "Don't you dare call me Sling." His foreleg and paw were healing well and nearly ready to bear his weight. Yet Kirra wouldn't let the dragon go without the sling until his stitches were removed.

"Very well," Kirra said, waving her hand. Then she smirked. "Hopalong it is. Now hobble after me, Hopalong. I'll buy you some lunch and a treat."

A growl crept up Alvaranox's throat. He narrowed his eyes. In the sunlight they glowed gold. "You shall have to buy a tool to remove my teeth from your face if you call me that again."

"That's not very nice, Hobbles."

Alvaranox hissed. He lashed his spined tail against the grass, tearing a few earthen ruts and tossing shredded green blades about. Time to try a new tactic. "Nylah! Kirra won't stop teasing me."

Nylah glanced up from the table she sat at, sorting the dragon's herbal doses for the day. Though Alv was nearly healed, Nylah still worked full time alongside Kirra. She smirked, and shook her head. Frizzy gray hair swished around her face. "So tease her back."

Alvaranox cocked his black-horned head, glaring at Kirra. "You're ugly and you smell bad."

"Hey!" Kirra wavered between offended and amused. Then she swatted the dragon on his gold-blotched nose. "That isn't what she meant."

Alvaranox yelped and yanked his head back, his green scaled neck curling into an S. The dragon sat up onto his haunches, glancing back at his former Handler. She may as well be his second handler, now. "Now she's hitting me, Nylah."

Nylah picked up a bundle of herbs with serrated, three-pronged leaves. She shook the herbs at the dragon. "If you keep acting like a bratty hatchling, I'm going to come over there and hit you, too. Now go with Kirra to the market. She's right, you do need the exercise. You're spending too much time sitting around on your scaly ass. You'll end up as fat as Stupid Fish."

"Who's fault is that?" The dragon tossed his head, swiveling his frilled ears back. "I shall get plenty of exercise as soon as you two stop forbidding me to fly."

"Once you can walk on this," Kirra said, gently touching the dragon's bandaged paw. "We'll let you fly. But only slowly and carefully at first."

"Yes, Mother," Alvaranox said, snorting.

He twisted his serpentine neck and peered back at his foreleg. Damn thing was almost completely wrapped in the cloth sling bound around the base of his neck. By now he was used to wearing the humiliating device but that didn't make it any less embarrassing to be seen in public with it. Both the sling and the bandages affixed to his scales with sticky resin made him itch, too. As did the stitches holding his healing wounds together. He stretched his neck, rubbing his muzzle against the bandage at the top of his shoulder. Thinking about the damn thing made it itch even more.

"Come along," Kirra said, backing away from the dragon. She beckoned at him with her hands. "This way, Alv. And stop scratching."

"I'm not scratching," Alvaranox said, snorting. "I am gently rubbing."

"You know if that was me trying to get you to the market, I'd use a lot more force." Nylah cut the stems from a bundle of herbs with a single swift chop of her large knife. "If I were you, I'd follow her before she decides to start twisting your ears around."

"Thank you for the advice, Old Lady." Alvaranox sighed in frustration, and slowly pushed himself up to his three good paws. Nylah hadn't given him as much worried grief about the attacks as he thought she would, so perhaps he should leave before she berated him for bashing down his own door. He folded his wings against his body, shaking himself. "When I am healed, I am flying to my island and lounging in the sun all day long just to spite you."

"I'm not sure how that spites either of us, Alv," Kirra said, giggling. "But once you're healed you can lounge wherever you want. Now follow me. Let's use your trail so you don't flatten any more of the wildflowers."

"You look like a wildflower," Alvaranox said, hobbling after her.

"Thank you," Kirra said with a smile, shrugging off any perceived insult. "Wildflowers are beautiful."

Kirra wore a soft looking red sundress that cascaded down her body in crimson layers. Though her long curly hair bore more of a copper tint like Alvaranox's eyes, the dress matched it well nonetheless. It clashed a bit with her green eyes but no more so than her hair already did. The dress hung from her shoulders but had little in the way of sleeves. It was loose and comfortable, good for a warm summer's day. Weeks spent tending a recovering dragon who enjoyed lounging in the sun had brought a tan to her fair skin. She had a simple leather coin purse cinched around her waist and a pair of cloth sandals.

"Well, you don't look very official. Nylah always used to wear sturdier clothing when she was working." The dragon flicked his tail, glancing back at his former handler. Even as he'd grown to trust Kirra, Nylah was still a steadying presence whenever she was around.

"I don't need to wear a pair of breeches and a stuffy blouse to take care of you, Alv. Besides, you've been healing so well there hasn't been much for me to do." Kirra held up her hands to the dragon, grinning. "Not that I'm complaining."

"You'd better not." The dragon looked down at Kirra as she began to walk at his side, keeping an eye on his wounded limb. "But you hardly project an aura of authority when you're wearing a sundress."

"I don't care what I project, Alv." Kirra shrugged and put her hand on the dragon's scales. "I can be comfortable and take care of you at the same time. I don't really care what people think, anyway. They know I'm your Handler, and they know I'm in charge of you just as much as you do."

Alvaranox tossed his head, flaring his spines. "That remains to be seen. Very well. You may continue to look like a red thistle."

"Thistle?" Kirra slapped the dragon's neck. "What happened to wildflower?

"You wilted. Besides, your hair looks like red thistle fluff." He smirked at her.

Kirra folded her arms, still grinning. "Lucky for you, I happen to like thistles."

"Good, because you've a tongue like a thorn." Alvaranox glared down at her.

"Then you should compare me to a rose."

"You'd have to do something about that smell, first."

Alvaranox found himself laughing alongside Kirra. The more time she spent with the dragon the more her easygoing demeanor was starting to shine through, especially when Nylah wasn't around. Kirra still tried to discover how far down her throat she could shove her own foot on a near-daily basis, but more and more she refused to let her mistakes rule her. She was certainly trying hard, Alvaranox had to give her that.

As their laughter faded, Alvaranox watched Kirra walk when she wasn't looking his way. In his heart, he considered her a good friend now. He doubted he'd ever admit such a thing. He barely even admitted as much to Nylah. In the days following the attempt on his life, he was glad to see the dark clouds roiling behind Kirra's green eyes that night had not lingered long. Whatever innocence she had lost as men died around her was not near enough to rot out her good nature. She had it in her to claw her way out of whatever dark hole life's worst moments pushed her into her. She was a far stronger person than Alvaranox ever would have guessed before his injury, that was for sure.

Asterryl was relatively quiet as the dragon and his Handler made their way through town. It was mid-afternoon in the middle of the week, so many residents were busy working or caring for children. That was fine with Alvaranox. He wasn't sure how many sweat-stinking gawkers he could bring himself to deal with today. Thankfully as his body healed the crowds that gathered for a look at him had diminished by the day. As the crowds lessened, the number of guards acting as barrier shrunk as well. Today a few armored men in blue and gold surcoats trailed them but kept a respectful distance that Alvaranox appreciated. He was used to it now anyway. After the attack he never went anywhere without guards keeping watch.

As usual, one of his personal guards was Davan. Davan was the man with the crossbow who helped fight off the assassins. After Alvaranox offered his name, the guard did the same. Alv wouldn't consider him a friend, exactly, but thanks to his efforts he certainly trusted Davan more than the other guards. He dipped his horned head in a casual greeting, and Davan waved at the dragon, but maintained his respectful distance.

Alvaranox flicked his frills ears at the sound of hammers pounding against nails and men calling out orders in the distance. Set back a little ways from the cobblestone path they trod were a few framework buildings just under construction. Men scrabbled over the skeletal frames, lashing notched logs together and nailing wooden planks into place. If they noticed the dragon watching them from the road they paid him little heed. Alvaranox unsheathed a few claws and dragged them over the cobblestone, leaving little scratch marks.

"Your town is always growing, isn't it." The dragon licked his nose and gave a little sigh.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Kirra said, rubbing his shoulder.

"It is," the dragon said, snorting. "At this rate you'll be kicking me out of my home just when I've gotten settled in." He tilted his head down to glare at Kirra, baring his fangs. "If I have to have yet another house built, I demand a tavern be included."

"If you had a tavern inside your house we'd never get you out of it." Kirra waved her hand at the ebony collar encircling the dragon's green-scaled neck. Images of dragons in flight unleashing roaring flames encircled the collar. "That thing would ring the warning bell in your head, and you'd be so drunk you couldn't even find your way to the door."

"That would be delightful," Alvaranox said, licking his muzzle again. "Now I'm thirsty."

"Be a good dragon, and I'll get you a little wine before we go home." Kirra patted his cheek, smiling. "Now come along. I'm hungry, and I want to get something to eat at the market."

Alvaranox flattened his spines out, watching the workers a moment longer. "Still think your town is getting too damn big." In the back of his mind, the dragon heard a faint bell toll. "And the collar agrees with me!"

"Oh?" Kirra started walking again, her crimson skirt swishing around her ankles. "Does it? Are you sure its not just telling you're not allowed to think you have too many people to protect?"

"Probably," the dragon said, padding along after her. At least his uninjured foreleg didn't ache as badly from extended travel anymore. Nor did the dragon's wounds throb from the motion the way they once did. "But I like my idea better."

Alvaranox followed Kirra deeper into the city. Despite all the years the collar had bound him to Asterryl's protection, Alvaranox still didn't know the city as well as Kirra. Kirra led Alvaranox onto an unfamiliar side street to avoid the crowd of people milling about some traveling peddler. Alvaranox appreciated the gesture. He didn't like being surrounded by crowds when he was healthy, let alone when he was limping. Yet the fact he had passed the little street without ever really noticing it made him wonder how many other parts of the city he'd never seen.

Damn city was always growing. The bell chimed in the back of his mind, and Alvaranox snorted. Yes, yes, he thought. He'd protect Asterryl no matter how large it grew. Not like he was given me a choice.

Alvaranox limped down the narrow path after Kirra. It seemed more an alley than a street, barely wide enough to allow the dragon to walk it without bumping his wings. It was quiet and peaceful, far more pleasant than the usual grimy and mysteriously damp alleyways he used as short cuts. Though narrow, the street had a warm, inviting quality to it. Between buildings, tall oaks sheltered benches beneath their boughs. A few colorful flags waved from rooftop corners. The taller buildings had overhanging eaves to shelter pedestrians from the sun and rain.

The walls enclosing the small side street were painted with colorful murals. They reminded the dragon of the way Nylah painted her house every spring. One wall was covered in green hills and silvery rain drops. Another had blue and purple butterflies across a white background, circling the open door of a little bakery. Delightful aromas of baking bread and sweet cakes wafted out. Alvaranox came to a stop, licking his muzzle.

"Kirra, you said you'd buy me treats, right?"

"I think I said one treat," Kirra replied, turning around.

"It's going to be a lot more than that," Alvaranox said, grinning. He swished his tail, then cringed when his tail spines thumped loudly against a building. "Should make wider streets. This place smells good. Buy me something delicious."

"I hope you haven't put a hole in their wall, or they're not going to want to sell us anything." Kirra squeezed her way past the dragon to inspect the wall. "Luckily for you, you've only scratched it."

"It would have been your fault anyway. You're the one who brought me down here."

Kirra came back around to the dragon's head. "Very funny. What do you want to eat from here?"

"I've no idea," Alvaranox said. "Give me a moment."

Alvaranox dropped his head and pushed it through the open doorway of the bakery. There was a terrified scream from the woman within. Apparently she hadn't expected to see a large green dragon's head suddenly emerge from the street. Alvaranox grinned. It was nice to know he could still scare at least one human in this city. He'd probably only startled her but a scream was a scream. While he woman collected herself, Alvaranox glanced around.

The bakery was warm and the scents inside were magnified many times over. The aromas of sweet cakes and fruit tarts hung heavy in the air, along with the smells of fresh, hearty bread and a hint of cinnamon. The walls were lined with shelves displaying the day's offerings, and towards the back large cases showcased all manner of desserts. The baker was a woman dressed in the purple shades of twilight who looked as though she'd been enjoying plenty of her wares over the years. Lucky woman, the dragon thought.

"Dragon!" The woman said when she caught her breath, clutching her chest. Her flour-caked hand left a white print on her lavender blouse. "You nearly scared me half to death."

"Yes, I noticed." Alvaranox grinned at her. "What have you got that's delicious?"

The woman took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. Then she shook her finger at the dragon. "Everything's delicious here, Dragon. But if you go around scaring people like that you won't be getting any of it."

Alvaranox ignored her attempts to reprimand him. "I should like some of your honey cakes, I think." He withdrew his head before the baker could offer any further argument, and looked down at Kirra. "Well go on, pay the woman."

Kirra muttered something incompressible under her breath. Alvaranox pretended to comprehend it anyway as Kirra vanished into the bakery. "You're lucky I've only got one good forepaw or I'd swat you on your haunches for that."

"Humans don't have haunches, Alv." Kirra's voice drifted back to him through the doorway. A few moments later, Kirra reemerged with a wooden tray and a few freshly baked honey cakes upon it. "Besides, it'd be the last time I ever bought you anything nice if you did."

"No it wouldn't," Alvaranox said, lowering his head to take the first treat into his muzzle. The pastry was sweet, soft and still warm. It was dusted with cinnamon and slathered with sticky honey icing. The cake was so delightfully sweet it made Alvaranox shiver. His scales all clicked together, and a rumbling purr rattled in his chest before he could muffle it. "Oh, Gods that's good," he said as soon as he'd swallowed it.

Kirra offered him another honey cake, and then took one for herself while Alvaranox was still eating his. She trotted down the street to the guards keeping watch, offering the remaining cakes to Davan and his partner. Kirra then slipped back into the bakery to return the tray. Once she was back, Alvaranox lowered his head to peer into the bakery again. He called out to the woman inside, licking icing from his nose.

"Those were delightful!"

"Thank you dragon!" The baker beamed, proud to have the town's guardian beast enjoying her wares. "I hope they helped cheer you up after that dreadful episode with those terrible men."

Alvaranox grunted. He hated having the whole town know people had come here to kill him. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage, though. "They helped a little. Feel free to send all you have to my home. I'm sure Kirra will cover it."

"Think again, Dragon," Kirra said around a mouthful of pastry. Then she began to walk down the street once more before the dragon could get her in any more trouble.

The little side street wound through a quiet district of Asterryl, passing a few more little shops and cafes tucked away where Alv had never noticed them. He paused to try and peer into a tavern, but it was dark inside and the place looked empty. The dragon flared his spines. What kind of tavern wasn't open at...Alvaranox peered up at the sky. ...Ten in the morning or so. Perhaps needing a drink at ten in the morning was more his problem than the tavern's.

The dragon and his Handler followed the little street until it intersected one of the main thoroughfares again. It was still fairly quiet. From there it was an easy walk into the market. Though one of several, it was the largest and easiest market for the dragon to navigate. The others were all cramped lanes and confined spaces overstuffed with stalls and vendors. One was filled with all variety of livestock waiting to be sold or slaughtered.

The last time Alvaranox visited the cramped market he'd upended a cart selling milled flour and a carriage hawking fresh honey and sugar. Thankfully he hadn't been made to clean up the mess. Instead he suggested they scrape it all up together and bake themselves some dirt cookies. Then when he visited the market with all the livestock and beasts of burden, he'd frightened a group of previously placid oxen so badly they'd broken through the walls of their pen and nearly tramped half the market goers in a terrified stampede. In the ensuing chaos Alvaranox had decided to help himself to a few cages worth of chickens and ducks.

Ever since then his handlers thought it best he visit the more spacious market occupying the village's large central plaza.

Visiting the plaza market was always a strange experience for Alvaranox. When he was first brought to Asterryl, that plaza was nearly empty, and the city around it was half the size it was now. Over the years the market slowly blossomed. New permanent stalls and buildings were added year by year, and the layout of the place often changed. Though it had held its current configuration for at least ten years or so, it still seemed new to Alvaranox. It still held memories.

Alvaranox came to a stop. For a moment he saw the plaza empty again. The stone walls that surrounded it were bare and gray. No banners nor paint marked them, only patches of lichen and the wear of time. They ran around the plaza in rough, strangely geometric lines. The wall was not continuous, it was interrupted by roads and entryways into the market. Back then there were fewer buildings beyond the walls. The plaza and its walls seemed to sit in their own empty space in the center of Asterryl.

Though the plaza was nearly circular, the walls that surrounded it were not. Nor did they form an octagon or any other shape with evenly spaced and numbered sides. It always seemed a strange pattern to the dragon, but then again he never could make sense of the way humans constructed their towns.

He remembered those walls, though. And that empty plaza. And the cold, gray skies that day. And the chains that bound him. And the man with the collar, taken from the black box that spewed forth the waste...

"Alv?" Kirra's voice drew the dragon from his thoughts.

Alvaranox blinked a few times, copper eyes unfocused. He collected himself, and gave a little snarl. He'd been mixing up memory and dream again.

"Are you alright?" Kirra gently stroked the golden blotch between his green nostrils.

"Yes," Alvaranox murmured, pushing his muzzle against Kirra's hand. "I was just remembering."

"Remembering what?" Kirra asked, though the moment the question fell from her lips she wished she could pull it right back in.

"This plaza," Alvaranox said. He opened an emerald wing, gesturing with the black marked edge of it towards the market. "This is where they collared me."

Kirra's hand froze on Alvaranox's muzzle. She sucked in a sharp breath. Alv's claws may as well have squeezed her heart. She hadn't even thought about that. "I'm sorry, Alv! I didn't mean..."

"Nonsense, Kirra," the dragon said. He snorted and hot breath washed across her palm. "It is hardly my first time visiting this place since then. Now buy me some damn treats already."

Alvaranox took a few hobbling steps forward, and then curled his tail around Kirra's midsection. She yelped in surprise and then laughed as the dragon tugged his tail, bringing her with him. For a few moments she walked along behind him. Kirra was glad the dragon was careful of his tail spines, and gladder still that he didn't seem upset to have been brought to a place that held such painful memories for him.

"What are you going to want?" Kirra rubbed his tail.

"I seem to recall you promising me lunch, so I should like something filling." The dragon looked back at her a moment, and slowly uncurled his tail from the woman. "But I should also like tarts, I think. With plenty of fruit."

Though the market was not crowded this time of day it still rattled with the hum of many voices. The calls of vendors hawking their wares rose above the din. The delightful aromas of sizzling meats and roasted vegetables that hung in the air coaxed an ominous rumble from the dragon's belly. He licked his nose, green nostrils flaring around the golden blotch. Alvaranox turned his head back and forth, tracking a few of the scents.

"I smell lamb," the dragon said. He followed the wafting aroma, limping into the market plaza. "That is what we shall feast upon."

"I hope they've got enough for a dragon," Kirra said. She put a hand on Alvaranox's side as she walked with him.

"If not they shall have to cook more immediately."

The market was organized into several sets of rings. The outermost ring comprised a variety of permanent buildings and stalls built up against the old walls that surrounded the plaza. Most of them were shops selling various daily essentials such as clothing and tools, tack for horses and beasts of burden. Others offered services such as tailoring or smithing or construction and repair work. A wide line ran between the outer buildings and the next ring of vendors.

The second ring held less permanent structures that changed as often as the weather. There were large tents made of a variety of colorful canvases helpful for catching the eye. Between them were simple stalls built of wooden framework lashed together with tarps serving as makeshift roofs. Those vendors sold an ever changing variety of goods. Fresh fruits and vegetables were common, as were medicinal herbs, bolts of silk, cloth, canvas and other materials. Others sold wheat or barley or other grains, some offered pre-milled sacks of flour. Rare spices from other towns showed up now and then. Jewelry, trinkets and baubles both valuable and petty were often haggled over. When the lizard-like Va'chaak visited Asterryl, they usually found a place to set up shop in the second ring.

A few more increasingly small rings held a few pens for livestock such as sheep and goats, or cages to hold poultry. The smaller rings also had display booths set up for artisans, sculptors, and potters to show off their wares. Sloped, thatched roofs helped to shield artwork and pottery from inclement weather. Strings of colorful banners stretched between each ring of vendors, flapping in the light summer breeze. Some of the banners were low enough that Alvaranox had to duck his head to walk beneath them. The little flags tickled his wings.

Once Alvaranox honed in on the scent of roasting lamb, he followed it towards the center of the plaza. At that time of day there were more vendors in the market than shoppers, but a few people still had to get out of the dragon's way. Calls of "Hello dragon!" quickly turned into "Watch out! Dragon!" Hobbled or not Alvaranox was not about to let some slow-witted human impede his quest for roasted lamb.

Alvaranox didn't really want to talk to anyone anyway. Yes, he was feeling a little better. No, he couldn't fly yet. Yes, he was still healing. No, he wasn't ready to go fight monsters and bandits yet. Yes, they'd have to do that themselves for a while. No, he didn't think a group of singing children would make him feel better. In fact, that would make the dragon feel worse.

A food court lay at the center of the plaza. Multiple large, stone hearths housed a variety of cooking fires. Some held spits for roasting whole animals, others burned beneath immense pots of stew and soup. Others were covered with wet wood, beneath racks of fish and meat for smoking. Ownership of each hearth was shared by a variety of cooks and merchants, and the offerings varied by the day. Towering wooden poles carved with fanciful images of dragons and eagles held aloft a set of shade canopies. Benches, tables and chairs were strewn haphazardly around the area.

Alvaranox wanted to stride through the food court, proud and fearsome. But with his foreleg in the sling, the best he could manage was a determined yet limping hop. He made up for it by swatting aside an offending chair some fool had left right in his path. The few patrons eating lunch in the food court quickly moved away from the dragon. Alvaranox grinned. At least he'd put a little fear into them. Even if it was just the fear of being struck by a flying chair.

The scent the dragon followed emanated from a hearth where an older man was cooking an entire lamb upon a spit. The skin of it was crackling and lightly blackened, speckled with herbs and dusted with spices. He'd put a lot of care into it, roasted it for hours, and planned to spend the afternoon selling it to as many customers as possible.

Alvaranox walked up to the spit and pointed his muzzle towards the lamb. "I shall have that, now."

"The...the whole thing?" The cook stammered a little, rubbing his hands on his black, grease-stained apron. "I was going to be serving it all day."

"Then it sounds as though you're going to get the afternoon off, aren't you." Alvaranox snorted, settling down upon his haunches. The dragon looked the cook over. His face was ruddy from the heat of the fire, and his scraggly gray beard looked stained by the wood smoke. Alvaranox hoped he hadn't gotten any beard hair on the lamb. "Kirra, pay the man."

"I don't know that I have that much coin, Alv," Kirra said, tugging at a red curl. She bit her lip. "I didn't know you were going to want a whole lamb."

"Surely you can haggle with the man about the price." Alvaranox smirked at her, then flared his spines and gave the chef a hard look. "I'm certain he wants to keep his town's guardian happy and satisfied, considering said guardian nearly died to protect this place. Twice."

"Yes...well..." The man stammered a bit, rubbing the back of his head. From the greasy look of his thinning gray hair it wasn't the first time he'd done so. "I suppose we could work out a deal."

"Good." Alvaranox snorted. He flared out a wing, flicking one of his wing-tip talons towards a patch of plaza that was as pleasantly sunny as it was pleasantly empty. "I shall be over there."

Alvaranox rose back to his feet and hobbled to his chosen spot, leaving Kirra to negotiate the price. That was her job, after all. He hoped she'd remember to leave enough coin in her purse to buy them some tarts, too. Otherwise he'd just have to take them and leave the vendor to seek reimbursement from the city. Really, as far as he was concerned, they should all be offering him free food any time they saw him. He'd damn near died for their stupid town. Twice.

Come to think of it, Nylah said something about the permanent vendors in the market wanting to offer him treats and special meals in thanks for the blood he shed on their behalf. Food was hardly suitable recompense for blood. Better than nothing, though. Not that anyone here had offered him anything. Then again, those offers were made when he was still convalescing. They may have rescinded them by now. Perhaps if he'd stopped and chatted with some of them instead of just barging up and claiming their wares, they might be happier to fulfill his requests.

Still, the city would surely reimburse any coin the vendors lost. Come to think of it, perhaps he should tell Kirra to send the man to the city for payment instead. Thinking of the city made the dragon scowl. The Council had not returned to question him again, but the encounter left the bitter taste of fire bile lingering in his mouth. They'd called Nylah and Kirra to their offices since then though Alv couldn't understand why. Perhaps they thought words held different meaning when they slipped from a dragon's tongue.

Maybe Alvaranox should go visit their offices as well, and tell them where to stick their questions. They could all get mounted for all he cared.

As the dragon waited for Kirra to finish negotiating, he looked around the food court. In a blink, the place was burning. The hearths had toppled over, the tables were on fire. Smoke choked the air. The vendor stalls were all engulfed in flame. Screams rose from some of the burning tents. Alvaranox blinked again and the market was in ruins. The fires had long died out, but the stink of scorched flesh remained. The bones of crumbled buildings lay alongside those of men. The collar buzzed around the dragon's neck.

Alvaranox growled and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sight. Unlike the spectral bell that called him to action, the images did not linger in his mind. When he opened his eyes again, everything was normal and the collar was quiet. Kirra now stood in front of him, giving him a concerned look. Davan and the other guard had moved a little closer, watching the dragon in concern while eating some food they'd purchased. Alvaranox huffed a sigh, lowering spines he hadn't realized he'd flared in sudden fear.

"I'm fine," the dragon snapped before Kirra could ask the question. "Where is my food?"

"It's coming," Kirra said, concern still etched across her scowling face. "Are you sure..."

"Yes." Alvaranox thumped his tail against the ground. He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to talk about either. It was not just his dreams haunted by terrible glimpses of ruination anymore. "So don't ask."

"Alright, Alv," Kirra said, reaching up to stroke the dragon's muzzle. When he lowered his head, she slipped her hand beneath his jaw line to gently rub his chin. "He's cutting all the meat off the bones, and I'm having him pack some up for us, so we can take lunch back to Nylah."

Much as Alvaranox wanted to eat the whole thing himself, that was a good idea. "She will like that," he said, trying to push the unpleasant images from his mind. "I hope you did not have to spend too much money. Surely the city will reimburse you."

"They will," Kirra said, smiling again. "I got a pretty good deal with him, but I had to agree to get you to tell everyone you meet it's the best lamb you've ever eaten."

Alvaranox gave a growling laugh. "That isn't going to happen."

"I know that," Kirra said, giggling. "But he doesn't. So just play along."

The dragon snorted, looking around the mostly empty food court. "I don't know why he expects me to be talking to many people anyway. It's not as if many people in this town wish to talk to their Guardian Slave."

Kirra scowled as she pulled up a scuffed table up in front of the dragon. Then she fetched a wooden chair that creaked when she settled into it. She reached over and stroked the dragon's shoulder. "You might be surprised. About how many people would enjoy talking to you, I mean."

"Be that as it may," Alvaranox said, clattering his tail-spines against the cobblestone. "I would not enjoy talking to them."

"It couldn't hurt to try and make a few more friends, Alv," Kirra said, softening her voice.

Alvaranox growled, tilting his wedge-shaped head back to watch a few misshapen clouds drift across the azure sky. "I do not need more friends. I have you, and Nylah."

"So I'm your friend now, am I?" Kirra asked, giggling. She twisted a curl of red hair around her finger, smirking at the dragon. "I'm flattered, Alv."

Alv's spines flattened out against his head. He pinned his ears back, disgusted with himself. That hadn't come out the way he'd meant it, but it wasn't a lie either. "Don't let it go to your head. My point is, I don't need any other friends."

"Why not?"

Alvaranox waved his paw in the air, hissing through sharp teeth. "What would I do with them? Invite them into my sleeping chamber to play games and roll dice?"

"Sure," Kirra said, laughing. "I can just see you sitting there at a gaming table covered in treasure you're all betting on." She lowered her voice into a gruff approximation of a growl. "Oh damn! I rolled a two! Kiss my green stones!" Then she swept her hands through the air as if tossing an entire table aside in anger.

Alvaranox smirked down at her, tail tip flicking back and forth.

Kirra blinked, staring back up at him. "What are you smirking at?"

"Aside from your very poor impression of me?" The dragon inclined his head towards the food vendor bearing a massive wooden tray stacked high with roasted lamb. He'd arrived just in time to hear Kirra exclaim something about kissing her green stones, and was now giving her a very odd look. "Your audience."

Kirra twisted in her chair, squeaking in alarm when she saw the vendor. "Oh! Sorry. I wasn't telling you to kiss my green stones. I was...that is, I don't have stones! And if I did, they certainly wouldn't be green. But Alvaranox's are green, and he often..." The vendor's eyes grew wider and wider, and the dragon burst into growling laughter. Kirra grit her teeth as she realized she was only wading into deeper water. "Just give me the tray."

Kirra took the heavy tray from the vendor, and set it upon the table. The air was quickly redolent with the delightfully rich aroma of roasted lamb and the sharp tang of sauce made with freshly picked mint. The smells made the dragon's belly rumble loudly enough to back the vendor up a few steps. He nervously rubbed his hands together, and gave a stiff bow.

"I hope you enjoy it, uh, dragon," he said, backing away another step.

"Yes, yes," Alvaranox muttered. The man clearly didn't want to be around the dragon. Alvaranox was happy to be rid of him. "I'll be sure and tell everyone I talk to how delightful it was." The brought a smile to the man's ruddy face as he turned around and walked back to his cooking station. Alvaranox didn't consider that a lie. He just didn't plan to actually talk to anyone.

Kirra fetched the two of them some water. She got a wooden mug for herself, and a large bowl for the dragon to drink from. Alvaranox helped himself to the lamb without waiting for Kirra, though he wouldn't eat it all without leaving her some. The meal was delicious. The skin was crispy and well seasoned with thyme, rosemary, and garlic. The meat itself was tender and moist. Many of the thicker chunks cut from deeper in the lamb were still quite red, just the way the dragon liked them. Kirra gathered up a few large slices that were cooked a little more completely, brightening from gray beneath the skin and smoky fat to pink along the inside edge.

"What are you doing?" Alvaranox asked her beneath mouthfuls of the wonderful meat.

"Collecting a few bits that won't make me sick before you eat them all."

"Nonsense," Alvaranox said, licking red juices from his muzzle. "None of it will make you sick."

"None of it will make you sick," Kirra said, chuckling. She pointed to a piece of red meat. "That bit's still raw. Normally he'd carve it from the outside as people order, and the inside portions would continue to cook."

Alvaranox cocked his head, peering at the large reddish hunk of lamb. "Yes, it is still raw." He dropped his head, curled his tongue around the meat and pulled it into his muzzle. Then he purred as he chewed it a few times. "Delightful."

"Don't use your tongue, Alv," Kirra said, laughing even as she chastised the dragon. "Or your teeth. Its fine when you're the only one eating, but when you're sharing a tray of food with someone else at least use your paws."

Alvaranox fixed his copper eyes on the human woman, lifting his central crest. Then he made a show of grasping as much meat as he could in a single paw before trying to shove it all into his muzzle at once. A few bits fell out of his grasp, and a few more fell from his snout and splattered back onto the tray. He murmured something incomprehensible.

Kirra scrunched up her face, scooting her own selections of lamb as close to the edge of the tray as possible. "Going to have to teach you some table manners if you're going to be out in public."

When his mouth was nearly empty the dragon said, "I have every intention of avoiding public spaces as much as possible as soon as I'm healed."

"Doesn't mean we can't teach you to use a knife and fork." Kirra picked up a slice of lamb in her fingers, nibbling on it. "Though I'm hardly the best example right now."

"More an example of what humans could learn from dragons, I think."

"We'd have to have a dragon sized knife and fork made." Kirra ate another few bites of lamb, giggling to herself at the idea of Alvaranox acting dainty, using silverware to cut up all his meals.

When Kirra was finished with her portion of the meal, she returned to the vendor to pick up the extra portion for Nylah. She had it wrapped in parchment and packed away in a little basket so she could carry it with them. She also got a little more water and when she returned she used it to rinse off the dragon's muzzle. Alvaranox glared at her but did not stop her from cleaning the lamb juice from his scales. He was used to relying upon Nylah and Kirra to keep him clean.

"It's going to be wonderful to be able to bath myself again," the dragon muttered as Kirra dried his wet green scales with a cloth napkin.

"You say that like you're not going to miss being waited on," Kirra said, tucking away the napkin. "Are you ready to go?"

Alvaranox answered her question by rising up to his paws. He grunted a little as the movement sent twinges of pain rolling through his healing belly and paw. The dragon's pain had lessened greatly over the last few weeks, but he was not sure it would ever disappear completely. He sniffed around, nostrils flaring as he honed in on the scents of fruit and pastry.

"I shall still expect you to do my bidding," the dragon said as he began to limp along, following the scents. "But I shall be quite happy to get out of this foolish device you make me wear. And as joyous as I shall be to take to my wings once again, I shall be just as glad to be able to bathe myself in the lake and swim at my beach."

Kirra blinked as she walked alongside the dragon. "Your beach?"

"Yes." Alvaranox licked his nose, smiling at the thought of it. "Its on the shore of my island. Just a little beach, more fine pebble than sand. There was a dock there years ago, but I tore it up to help prevent humans from sullying my hideaway. On hot days in the summer I enjoy swimming out there, where it's peaceful. On cooler days I just bathe myself quickly."

A smile spread across Kirra's face as they crossed the food court. By now a few more patrons had settled in at tables around the central area. "I didn't know you liked to swim."

"Nor did I expect you to." The dragon rustled vast, black-mottled green wings against his sides. "I hardly go about paddling laps near the village boat docks. Gods, can you imagine the idiots calling out to me? Out for a swim, eh dragon? Of course I'm out for a swim you idiot. I'm in the water, and I haven't drowned so I must be swimming!"

Kirra burst out laughing, shaking her head a little.

Alvaranox smirked at her for a moment. "Not sure what you're laughing at. It's your people who ask those obvious questions after all. Do you have any idea how many times I've been asked if I was out for a walk while I was going to see the old lady? Or, when lounging outside some tavern, having a barrel of wine, how many people do you think will ask me if I'm having a drink?"

"Having a barrel of wine?" Kirra blinked, incredulous. "No wonder you were hung over so much when I first became your handler."

"A barrel isn't that much," Alvaranox said, huffing. "Not to me, anyway."

Kirra just shook her head. As they were leaving the food court area, she noticed it had gotten a bit more crowded than before. The din of voices was still just a gentle hum but there were noticeably more people settled in around tables and browsing the various food vendors and fire pits. A few of them called out a greeting to Kirra, asked how the dragon was feeling.

A few more asked the dragon if he was out for a walk. Alvaranox growled. "Get-"

Kirra grinned at him. "Don't say it, Alv."

Alvaranox turned his head to the person who last asked the question. Instead of telling them to get mounted, he simply snapped, "Try the damn lamb."

---

Chapter Twelve

---

Kirra tried not to giggle at Alv's misbehavior as the two of them made their way from the food court towards one of the outer rings. There was a large permanent stall there where a local baker sold a variety of pastries baked in a simple brick oven at the back of the stall. Both the oven and the stall were sheltered by a heavy canvas tarp dyed a dark blue shade. It made it look as though the pastry vendor was sitting beneath a clear evening sky even in the midst of a rain storm. Bits of straw and sticks hung down from several of the tarp's corners where birds made nests in the supporting framework.

A young man was just placing a new tray of pastries into the wood-fired oven when the dragon approached. A bit of soot marked his face as well as his gray clothing. He turned around, wide-eyed as he spotted the dragon approaching. The baker swallowed so forcefully it seemed a wonder to Alvaranox that his stomach didn't distend as a result. The man looked at the dragon, looked at Kirra, then at the dragon again.

"Hello, dragon," the baker said, failing spectacularly at keeping his nervousness out of his voice. "How may I...service...you?"

"Service me?" Alvaranox blinked, pulling his horned head back till his neck curled in an S. "I prefer females."

"Alv," Kirra said, swatting him on the neck.

The dragon ignored her. He grinned down as the baker's face twisted in confusion. "But you may go and try the lamb."

"The lamb?" The man turned his attention to Kirra, hoping the dragon's Handler could make sense of the monster's cryptic remarks. Did the dragon always talk in riddles?

"Nevermind," Kirra said, giving the baker a polite smile. "We'd like some fruit tarts." Then before the man could ask for any more specifics, Kirra went on. May as well make this quick before Alvaranox decided to make things even more difficult. "Two each of whatever kinds you have today."

The vendor quickly wrapped up the tarts in parchment, and passed them to Kirra. Kirra tucked them all away inside her basket alongside the lamb then handed the vendor a few coins. She thanked him and strode away from the stall. When the dragon did not immediately follow, she turned back to look at him a moment until he padded after her.

"Aren't we going to eat those?" Alvaranox said, adding a whimper for emphasis.

"Are you still hungry?" Kirra asked. As the dragon walked up to her, she pulled a single tart from the basket and unwrapped it. She offered it up to Alvaranox "Here. You can have one. The rest we'll eat when we get back home. Unless you want to linger in the market and see how crowded it gets."

"No." Alvaranox snorted, flaring his spines.

The dragon knew Kirra was just teasing him but he still didn't like the idea. Despite his years serving this town, and his weeks recovering from injury, he did not like being amongst a crowd of humans any more now than he did when he was first collared. The more humans who surrounded him, the more uncomfortable he felt. The closer they pressed in around his scaly body, the more nervous the dragon became. Alvaranox looked around, flicking his spined tail. Already there were more people into the market than there had been when he'd arrived. The sooner he returned to the relative solitude of his home the better.

Alvaranox took the tart from Kirra's hand in his teeth. Alvaranox was certainly careful not to let sharp teeth scrape soft flesh even if the idea of biting Kirra's hand certainly amused him. The dragon seemed to recall the humans had a saying about that, though he couldn't recall how it went. He crunched up the tart, gave a happy purr as the sweet fruits washed over his tongue, and then gulped it down.

"Aww, you purred over your dessert," Kirra said, smirking as she rubbed the dragon's cheek. "How adorable."

"I did no such thing." Alvaranox butted his head against her hard enough to make her stumble. How dare she suggest he purred.

Kirra glared at him when she caught her balance. "You're lucky this basket is full of food, or I'd smack you over the head with it."

"I'm lucky you're not Nylah, or you'd twist my ears till they popped right off." Alvaranox began to hobble away from Kirra, heading to the edge of the market. "Now come along. I wish to be home again. Being among humans is starting to make me feel like I've got mites crawling under my scales."

"Perhaps you do."

"I have not had mites in years, Kirra." Alvaranox flared his spines, glaring at a portly man nearby. The man gave the dragon a dopey grin and a friendly wave. That only made Alvaranox scowl further. "And when I did have scale mites, it was because someone gave me a blanket infested with the damn things."

"Well it wasn't that old man, so stop glaring at him," Kirra said. Her voice was soft, and her touch was softer as she laid her hand upon the dragon's neck.

"I am glaring because he should be afraid of me." The dragon licked the golden spot at the end of his nose, sighing. He met Kirra's eyes for a moment. "No one in this town is ever afraid of me. I could walk up to him and roar in his face, and he'd just smile at me like an idiot. Probably ask me if I wanted something for my breath. Everyone knows I'm harmless, Kirra. Because of this." The dragon lifted his head as if to display the ebony collar that ringed his neck. "It is...embarrassing. It is humiliating. I feel like an old hound who's lost his teeth, so no one fears his bite."

"You'd rather you had people cowering in fear from you? You want to fly over the town, give a roar and laugh as everyone scrambles for shelter?" Kirra stroked the scales of his neck. "Isn't that the sort of thing that gave dragons a bad reputation in the first place? Would you really be so quick to land in the midst of Asterryl and terrify everyone? Demand they bring you tribute or be incinerated?"

"...I don't know," Alvaranox said, sighing to himself. He tightened his wings against his body as if trying to shelter himself from a sudden chill. "I never had the chance to try it. I was too young to properly scare anyone when I was collared, and now that I'm grown, no one here has a reason to fear me."

"You put a scare into that woman who ran the bakery," Kirra said, trying to offer a little support. "And the vendors seemed nervous."

"I startled the baker, and the other two were probably just worried the city would revoke their licenses if they did not appease their guardian." Alvaranox hobbled along a few steps. Nearby a black and white cat lounged in the sun atop a large wooden barrel. It stared at the dragon, tail tip twitching. Even the animals were not afraid of him here. Just like the goats who shared the pasture he'd lounged in lately. Well, he'd show them. Once he took to his wings again he was going to eat those damn goats. "I am a dragon, Kirra. I should be feared and respected. The fact I am not merely reminds me of my place here."

"People care about you here, Alv." Kirra moved around to stand in front of him, gently rubbing his muzzle when he did not pull his head away.

"Do they, Kirra?" Alvaranox left his muzzle in Kirra's hands, closing his eyes for a moment. "Or are they just happy I'm here to keep them safe at night?"

"They care, Alv," Kirra said, insistence creeping into her voice as she stroked his pebbly scales. "Look at the flowers and the gifts people sent you. Look at the way the tavern owners treat you. They like having you come to drink their wine. I think that man selling tarts was in awe of you. And that woman in the bakery? She was genuinely pleased you liked her food!"

"A handful of treats and a few kind words do not remove the collar, Kirra."

Kirra pursed her lips, shaking her head. "I'm telling you Alv, people care about you."

"People care about their hounds, too." The dragon turned his head, watching the guards who trailed them at a distance. They did not seem close enough to hear the conversation. "I am nothing more than a guard dog to them."

"There's more to it than that." Kirra waved at the plaza behind the dragon. "People have changed, Alv. The town has changed. You just don't want to see it."

"What does it matter, Kirra?" Alvaranox pulled his head back, his neck curling a little. "Unless this collar comes off, and I can choose whether or not I wish to stay here, I am still their slave. Just because they do not treat me with the same open contempt their parents did does not mean I do not remember it. You can treat a slave kindly but until you set him free, you are still a slave owner." Then the dragon amended himself, nosing at Kirra's cheek as her expression fell. "I do not mean you, Kirra. I know you truly would set me free if you could."

Kirra smiled a little. She lifted her hand and rubbed at the golden blotch on the dragon's nose. "I think many people in town would do the same."

"I doubt that," the dragon said, hissing. "I think most of them are oblivious to the fact I am a slave. They delude themselves with small acts of kindness to feel as though they care. If they don't see a slave when they look upon me, they will not feel guilt when they close their eyes at night."

"I don't know that..."

"Kirra," the dragon said sharply, nudging her with his muzzle. "Before you were my handler, before you got to know me. When you were young, and you saw me flying in the skies. Did you look at me and see a slave? Or did you simply see the fascinating dragon who'd always been there to protect your town?"

Kirra swallowed hard, and her eyes fell. That was all the answer Alvaranox needed. "You see? I was a slave and a monster when I was first brought here. Now I don't even rate enough concern for that."

"I don't think that's true, Alv." Kirra's voice softened and her eyes lingered upon her own feet.

"Look at it this way, Kirra." Alvaranox eased himself down onto his haunches, glaring at the black and white cat lounging nearby. "If you went to the moors, and caught a wolf. If you brought it into town and beat it until it was tame. If you tied it to a post in the hot sun, people may stop and pat it on the head. People may leave it a bowl of water or a bit of food." The dragon lifted his spines, growling. "But do they untie it? Do they set it free? No. Showing it a bit of kindness without actually helping it does not mean they care. It means they are oblivious."

"Alright, Alv." Kirra balled her hands up into fists, knuckles white around the handle of the basket. She looked away. She blinked a few times, unable to meet the dragon's gaze. "I understand..."

"That is me, Kirra." Alvaranox stared at her, his spined tail swishing back and forth. The dragon thought Kirra needed to know how he felt, even if it meant hammering his point home with the spikes of his tail. "I am the wolf they dragged in from the wilds. They beat me into submission and tied me to their gates to be their guard dog. No one bothers to think about how the guard dog feels. They reward him for doing the job the force upon him, but all he really wants is for someone to untie that rope."

The dragon took a deep breath, his chest plates expanding. He held it as long as he could, and finally heaved a sigh. "All the kind words and gentle gestures in the world will not set me free. Unless the people are willing to open their eyes and acknowledge that they hold me as their slave, I see no reason to acknowledge their concern. If they cannot see that this slavery is torture for me, then they cannot care that deeply. You and Nylah are different. You understand, and you truly care. But the rest of them..." The dragon snarled, lashing his tail into a wooden crate that exploded into splinters beneath the impact. "I would rather have their fear than their oblivious concern."

Kirra snapped at the dragon before she could stop herself. "But wouldn't you rather be cared about than feared?"

The dragon pulled his wedge shaped head away from Kirra's hand. "I would rather have been left alone to live my life."

Kirra sighed. The basket nearly fell from her fingers. After a moment, she turned away, her red dress swishing around her feet as she walked off. Alvaranox watched her for a moment, guilt tugging at his heart. Kirra's words were a double-edged knife. When they cut him, Kirra felt the pain as well. Kirra seemed to have a talent for putting her foot into a pile of dung even when stepping over a puddle.

Alvaranox grit his jaw as Kirra trudged away from him. The gentle pull of guilt around his heart was quickly blossoming into a heavy anchor. All Kirra wanted to do was show Alvaranox he was cared for around the town, and in return he'd practically pushed her into the gutter along with the rest of Asterryl. The dragon had not meant to hurt the woman any more than she'd meant to hurt him. He just wanted her to understand how he felt.

Alvaranox hobbled up alongside Kirra. He lowered his head and slipped it beneath her free hand. She came to a stop and glanced down at him. Her green eyes looked a little bloodshot, her face reddened. She seemed as guilt stricken by her own words as Alvaranox was for his reaction to them. The dragon parted his jaws and gave her palm and fingers a small lick.

The feeling of the dragon's tongue against her skin tickled a small giggle out of Kirra. She tried to keep herself from smiling, murmuring. "Cut it out, Alv."

"Not until you stop moping."

"I'm not moping," Kirra said, her tone and downcast eyes practically an admission of just that.

"You are," the dragon insisted, licking her fingers once again.

Kirra giggled a little louder than before, pulling her hand away from the dragon's muzzle. "So are you. I'll stop if you do."

Alvaranox thumped his tail against the cobbled street of the mostly deserted lane. His tail spines clattered against the stone as he gave a dramatic sigh. "If I must."

"You must," Kirra said, turning to smile at him. Already her countenance was brightening. It wasn't like the dragon to try and cheer her up after she'd done something foolish to sully his mood. His attempts were a bit bumbling but the fact he made the effort was enough to lighten her spirits. "If I don't get to mope, then neither do you."

"So be it, Kirra." Alvaranox hobbled a few steps forward, deciding their conversation was best forgotten as quickly as possible. He curled his spined tail around Kirra's middle. She gave a little yelp and found herself stumbling forward as the dragon kept walking. "This way."

"Watch those spines dragon!" Kirra swatted at one of them. "And do mind the basket."

"I don't know what you're protesting about." Alvaranox tossed his head, splaying out his frilled green ears. "I wouldn't ever risk damaging lamb and fruit tarts."

"What about damaging me?" Kirra switched the basket to her other hand, walking along behind the dragon in time with his own hobbling steps.

"I haven't injured you yet, so odds seem fair I won't injure you in the future." Alvaranox flattened his black-marked wings against his back, turning his head to grin over them at Kirra. "Besides, someone has to make sure you don't go wandering off, sticking your head into random bakeries again."

"Oh no, you don't get to shift the blame to me," Kirra said, giggling. "If you continue to wander off, I'm going to have to find a way to clip a leash to that collar of yours like a dog on a walk.

Alvaranox cringed a moment. Such a thing was impossible, given that the collar lacked any clasps or buckles. He heard Kirra suck in a sharp breath, her instant regret palpable. She knew he hated being referred to as an animal almost as much as he hated being reminded of the collar. But if he wasn't going to get to sulk, then neither was she.

Before Kirra could babble an apology, the dragon cut her off. "Perhaps instead I should put a collar around your neck and leash you for a while. You might appreciate my situation a little more."

Kirra found herself giggling at the mental image. "That sounds a bit naughtier than I suspect you intended it, Dragon. Is that the sort of thing you like to do with your females?"

Alvaranox merely snorted, tossing his head again. "Kiss my green stones, Kirra."

Kirra stroked the scales of his coiled tail as she walked behind him. "Kiss them? From here I could just about kick them, instead."

Alvaranox straightened his neck, wings flaring in alarm. "You do and I'll drop you in the lake!"

Kirra laughed at that, rubbing his tail a little more. Alvaranox expected another snappy retort, and when he didn't get one, he turned his head to peer at her once again. Kirra watched him, a thoughtful expression etched across her face. After a moment, she offered the dragon a smile. "Thank you."

Alvaranox lifted his frills in confusion. "For threatening to drop you in the lake?"

"No," Kirra said, giggling. "For trying to cheer me up just then. And for not holding the stupid things I say against me. I know I say an awful lot of them."

You certainly do. Alvaranox opened his mouth to speak those words, but let them die on his tongue instead. It would not do either of them any good to bruise the woman's feelings any further. He licked his nose, and slowly uncurled his tail from around her. Kirra wriggled free and moved up alongside the dragon's shoulder. She rubbed the base of his neck a moment, and Alvaranox simply watched her.

"You also try very hard not to say those things," Alvaranox said after a moment of reflection. "And you bathe yourself in guilt when you say them anyway." He took a breath, sighing through his nose. "For whatever it's worth, Kirra, I appreciate your friendship. You're right. It is better to be cared about than feared. It's nice to know that at least two people in this place care about me as more than their Guardian Slave." He began to hobble forward, snapping his teeth. "And if you tell Nylah I suggested that you and I are friends, I shall bite you on the ass."

The warmth Kirra felt from the dragon's words shone through in her smile, and in her playful teasing. "I'll just tell her you're a dirty old beast who wants to lead me around on a leash, then."

Alvaranox smirked to himself. "I'm not old, Kirra."

"Is that your way of admitting to the rest of it?"

Alvaranox snorted, rustling his wings. "Don't flatter yourself."

"You're the expert on self-flattery, dragon, always singing your own praises."

The dragon chuckled low in his throat. "You've been spending a lot of time with Nylah, I see. You're starting to pick up her swift wit."

Kirra and the dragon made their way back through Asterryl towards the outskirts. Kirra guided them through several side streets to help Alvaranox avoid feeling surrounded by humans as the town grew a little busier in the afternoon hours. Several times they passed through some of the ancient walls that had long since been reincorporated into the town's design. Some of the streets passed through open gaps in the wall where the bricks had simply been removed. Other stretches of road ran through old gates and archways that remained standing, if in need of repair.

One old archway was built of stacked chunks of misshapen limestone. The top of the arch had long since crumbled and been replaced with a crisscrossing wooden trellis. Ivy vines with star-shaped leaves wreathed the archway, and patches of emerald moss clung to the old limestone blocks. Alvaranox ducked his head and tucked his wings tight to his body to squeeze through the gateway. Tendrils of hanging ivy tickled his wings. As he passed through the gap in the wall, the collar gave a nearly imperceptible buzzing around his neck. Though faint, the sensation made the dragon shiver.

Kirra heard Alvaranox's scales click, and glanced back at him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Alvaranos said, flicking his tail against the old archway as though blaming it for some malfunction of the collar that bound him. His tail spines chipped the stone.

"I heard your scales do that clicky-thing they do when you shiver," Kirra said, folding her arms. "Now what's wrong?"

"Perhaps I just felt a chill," Alvaranox said, lightly bumping her with his head. "Keep walking." When Kirra took a few steps, Alvaranox continued after her. "The collar just...buzzed a little, that's all. When I passed through that archway." He smirked at Kirra as she scowled in concern. "Don't worry. You probably just broke it when you made it revive me."

"Very funny," Kirra replied, swatting playfully at the dragon's nose. "That is odd, though."

"At this point I am growing used to the collar doing unexplainable things."

As they passed through the outer districts of Asterryl, the dragon kept watch. He half expected to see men in silver armor and or oiled rain cloaks charging at him from the alleyways. He focused on the collar, asking it for a threat, but got no reply. He doubted there was anything for him to worry about. It had taken to sending him odd signals lately after all. Chiming when Kirra told it she wouldn't let it erase his memories, tolling in the distant corners of his mind when he considered how large the town had gotten. Buzzing when he passed through ancient archways.

"Stupid collar," the dragon said, gritting his teeth. "Just make sense already."

They passed a long, two story inn with walls painted a bright, sky blue shade and spiraling designs in black wooden framework roaming across them. Alvaranox looked the place over. He'd passed by it before. The back of the building abutted up against a section of the same wall they'd just passed through. The inn had a covered patio out front serving their tavern, a few of the tables were occupied with groups of laughing patrons. Some of them looked up at the dragon and waved. Others just stared. The dragon ignored them. Movement from an upstairs window caught his eye. Someone was watching him from one of the rooms in the inn, but as soon as the dragon looked up the gray curtains fell closed.

Alvaranox hissed through his teeth.

"Now what?" Kirra asked, though her tone was concerned, not exasperated.

"Just being paranoid," the dragon admitted, licking his nose. "Saw someone watching me from one of the inn rooms. But when I looked up, they closed the curtains. It may have just been a child."

"Probably just a traveler." Kirra scowled, giving it a moment of thought.

Kirra turned and waved at their guards. Davan approached them, and Kirra explained what the dragon saw. After the assassination attempt, Kirra didn't want to take chances. Neither did Davan. He vanished into the inn. While they waited, Kirra stroked the scutes upon Alv's wounded foreleg where the cloth of the sling gave way and exposed them.

Ravel returned after a tense few minutes. Relief had already relaxed his face. "You were right, it was just a kid," Davan said, resting a hand on his sword. "Family of merchants. Never seen a dragon before."

Alvaranox smirked. "Thank you, Davan. I suppose I cannot fault him for wanting to bask in my magnificence."

Kirra shook her head as she started walking again. "I imagine most travelers are curious about you. You know, not every town has their own dragon."

"Thank the gods for that," Alvaranox said, laughing a little. "As far as I know, Asterryl is the only town that does."

"If any other town does, it would be news to me." Kirra shrugged, switching the basket to her other hand as they neared the edge of town. Soon the only buildings that surrounded them were half constructed. A few of them still had workers scrabbling over the framework, pounding in nails or lashing things together. "But then again I've never visited any of the other towns, so I wouldn't really know."

Alvaranox tilted his head as he followed after Kirra. He pinned his frilled ears back against his head, trying to drown out the sound of construction and the ignorant voices calling out for his attention. "Never? Why not?"

Kirra turned to face the dragon, walking backwards a few paces. Her red dress swished about her body. "Never had a reason to. When I was young, I was always helping my family make a living here in town. After that, I started learning the healing arts from Nylah. Was thinking about being a doctor, or perhaps a vendor. I'd always enjoyed wandering the shores of the Lake of Teeth and roaming the nearest moors for herbs and mushrooms and things. Then once Nylah took an interest in having me succeed her as your Handler, that was pretty much it. Had a lot to learn before she was willing to make the change official."

Alvaranox lifted his frills a bit, nostrils flaring as if he was sniffing out the truth emotions behind her words. "Your parents...they are..."

"Not around," Kirra said. Her tone made it clear she had no desire to discuss it further.

Alvaranox simply nodded in understanding. "Do you not wish to see other towns? Other places?"

"I'd love to, yes," Kirra said, coming to a stop long enough to stroke Alvaranox's muzzle. "Perhaps when you're healed I'll have you fly me around to all the other towns."

"Good idea," Alvaranox said, smirking. "Let's see how much we can really piss of the collar."

"Won't it let you fly that far?"

"Doubtful. Though..." The dragon shrugged his wings in uncertainty. "I've never had a handler order me to do so, either. If nothing else, I can certainly fly you out over the moors. Show you some of the wild beauty I hatched into. Oh, and there are plenty of desolate ruins I could show you. Those are very exciting."

Kirra giggled to herself as she started walking again. "You could take me to your island."

"Don't press your luck, Kirra." Alvaranox growled at her, though the mirth that flickered in his copper eyes undermined the threat significantly. "That place is mine and mine alone."

"Fine," Kirra said, waving her hand. "I'll just swim out there on my own."

"You couldn't swim that far."

"Care to wager, dragon?" Kirra held the basket in the crook of her elbow, undulating her other arm in the air as if mimicking her swimming motions. "I happen to be an excellent swimmer."

"If you drown in the attempt Nylah shall be quite cross with you."

"Are you saying you wouldn't be?"

"Might be nice to get a little peace and quiet." Alvaranox pushed his horned head against her back, laughing. "Though I'd miss having you buy me treats."

Kirra let the dragon nudge her forward before she trotted out of range. "I should hope you'd also miss my sparkling personality."

"I might." The dragon snorted, flaring his spines. "If you had one."

"I most certainly do!" Kirra stomped her foot, laughing.

"You shine as much as a lump of coal, Kirra."

Kirra tossed her red hair over a shoulder as if imitating Alv's head-tossing. "Well you're ugly and poorly endowed, especially for a dragon."

"What?!" Alvaranox stared at her a moment, and then burst out laughing. "That was pretty good actually. The sort of insult a female dragon would use."

"Thank you," Kirra said, giving a little bow as they walked along the path quickly turning from cobblestone to dirt.

"Of course, you're also quite incorrect. By dragon standards, I am ferociously handsome and impressively endowed."

"I didn't know dragons had such low standards."

Alvaranox chuckled to himself. "You really are starting to sound like Nylah. Though you don't call me a drunken lout enough yet."

"Shall I work on that?"

"No," the dragon said, grinning. "I am trying to wean myself off Nylah, remember?"

"Then I suppose you'd like me to send her home, hmm?" Kirra leaned up against the willow-bough fence surrounding the verdant meadow in which Alv spent much of his convalescence sunning himself. She waved the basket towards Nylah. The older woman was seated in the grass, surrounded by reams of colored yarn. She was busy with her darning, working on another new pillow for Alvaranox. "I can go give her the lamb we brought her and tell her to get her bony old ass out of your pasture, if you like."

Alvaranox gasped in horror, staring down at Kirra with wide copper eyes. After a moment the young woman burst out laughing. Alvaranox snarled when he realized he'd been had. It was rare for Kirra to pull one over on him like that. Kirra just kept laughing and walked along the fence till she reached the opening that lead into the meadow. "Oh, Alv. You should have seen your face. Your eyes bugged out so far I thought I'd have a set of big copper marbles to play with when they rolled out of their sockets."

"That is a far more disturbing image than I needed to hear, Kirra," Alvaranox said as he hobbled after her. "I'm going to tell Nylah what you said about her."

Alvaranox limped across the grass. By the time he reached Nylah, his body was an aching mess. The dragon had ignored the strain of walking upon a single foreleg for most of his trip, but now that the journey was over every muscle he had seemed to scream at him. The healing wounds in the meat of his paw and deep in his belly throbbed steadily. Alvaranox fought the urge to simply flop down in fatigue cause he didn't want to jar his injuries. He eased himself down onto the warm grass and rolled to his side. The dragon splayed his black mottled wings over the grass and wildflowers that surrounded him.

"Hello, Alv," Nylah said when the dragon got comfortable. She smiled at him, but did not stop her knitting. "Enjoy the market?"

"I enjoyed the food, if not the imbeciles doling it out," the dragon said. He carefully stretched himself out, one fore leg still bound up against his body with the white cloth sling. "Kirra says you have a bony old ass."

Kirra sputtered and coughed. She hadn't expected Alv to actually say that. Nylah meanwhile simply raised a single brow, looking over at Kirra. Her frizzy gray hair rustled around her head in the breeze. "Does she then?"

"I was only joking about your ass," Kirra insisted. The moment she realized what she said, she tried to steady her course only to veer further and further from the road. "I mean, not that I was going around talking about your ass. Or that you're old. Or bony. I was only joking! After all you're not that old and I'm sure your ass isn't that bony yet. Wait, I mean, not that it ever will be..."

With every word that stumbled from her tongue, Kirra's face grew redder, her ears hotter. Alvaranox started to laugh. It began as a growling chuckle and soon erupted into a roaring cascade of draconic laughter. "Kirra, stop!" He said, struggling to catch his breath. "You're going to make me laugh so hard I open up my belly again!"

"Do quit while you're ahead, Kirra," Nylah said, smiling at the younger woman a moment. "No need to encourage him."

Kirra scowled, her face nearly purple with embarrassment and a quickly building flash of anger. The dragon didn't have to humiliate her like that. Then again, it wasn't exactly Alvaranox's fault she'd blurted all that out. Usually when she did that, it was something upsetting to the dragon, not embarrassing to herself. And Nylah didn't seem to mind.

Alvaranox kept laughing and laughing. He thumped his tail against the ground, tearing chunks of sod with his spines. The dragon laughed so hard his ribs ached, and the pain in his belly got a little sharper. Still, it was worth it to the beast. He could certainly use the laughter. For a few moments he laughed so hard he could scarcely see through bleary eyes. He lifted his good paw to try and wipe away tears.

"Alv," Kirra said, her voice sharp enough to draw his attention.

Alvaranox turned his head towards her, expecting an angry rebuke. Instead, a fruit tart splattered against his face, right between the dragon's eyes. Sweet berry jam caked the pebbly green scales of his snout, and pastry crumbs flew into his eyes. The dragon gave a high-pitched squeal of shock, jerking his horned head back.

"AAAAAACK!" Alvaranox frantically shook his head, trying to clear the stuff from his face. He grabbed at one of his eyes with a paw. "There's crumbs in my eyes!"

Now it was the women's turn to laugh. Both of them were nearly doubled over in an instant. Kirra clutched her ribs, stumbling around a little as she tried not to let her laughter fell her. Nylah was already seated so she just hunched over a bit, her gray hair hanging all around her face.

Alvaranox rubbed at his eyes, blinking. Both the dragon's brilliant copper eyes were watering and stinging thanks to the crumbs. "You've blinded me! There's pastry shrapnel embedded in my eyes."

"Good shot, Kirra," Nylah said, her laughter slowly dying down to giggles. Hardly the ringing condemnation Alvaranox hoped for.

"Thanks a lot, Old Lady," the dragon said with a snort.

"Call me Old Lady again and I'll have her hurl another one at you."

"Alright," Alvaranox snorted, gnashing his teeth. "Truce then! Stop wasting those. They're too delicious to use as projectiles."

Kirra fetched a bucket of water and a cloth. She wet the cloth and walked over to the dragon. "Give me your head you silly beast."

Alvaranox stretched his neck out towards Kirra knelt as she set the bucket in the grass. "That was a good shot, actually."

"Thank you," Kirra said, giggling. She began to wipe the dragon's muzzle and face down with the cloth, washing away the lingering smears of berry jam. Mostly. "I think it's stained your scales."

"What?" Alvaranox crossed his eyes, trying to see the marks on his face.

"The jam was red, so it's sort of mixed with your green scales and left a few purple marks."

"Then wash them off," the dragon said, hissing.

"I'm trying," Kirra said, though her continued laughter spoke of how concerned she really was about leaving the dragon a little more colorful than before.

Nylah set her pillow aside, and rose up to inspect Kirra's work. "Sort of a flower pattern, right between his eyes. Where his snout meets his head."

"Damn it, I am a dragon!" Alvaranox thumped his good paw against the ground, and lashed his tail. "I cannot have a flower pattern on my face."

"You can, and you will, cause it's not coming off." Kirra set the cloth down, grinning. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll wear off in a day or two."

"Or a week," Nylah added, then picked up the basket and took it to the wooden table with bench seats set up nearby. "Now, what else have you brought?"

"Lamb!" Kirra said, rising up to follow Nylah. The two women ignored the dragon's complaints until he grew tired of lodging them. "It's delicious too."

When it became clear to the dragon that neither of them were listening to him any longer, he rose back up to three paws and hobbled to the table as well. Then he stuck his head right between the two women, attempting to glare at them both. "Dragons do not like being ignored."

"Poor baby," Nylah cooed to him. She leaned against the dragon's head, draping her arm over him just behind his ridged black horns. With her other hand, she gently stroked his muzzle, tracing little circles around the golden blotch upon his pebbly scaled nose. "How are you feeling, Alv? This is the most activity you've had since you were wounded."

Alvaranox rumbled in his chest. He wanted to tell her that he felt fine. That he was ready to be rid of all these damn bandages, stitches, and the sling for good. The truth was the trip had worn him out, and his wounds still ached. They were healing well, but half a day spent in town told the dragon he was not as quite fully recovered yet.

"Tired," he said softly. He would let Nylah lean against his neck as long as she wanted. "And sore. And my wounds are starting to itch."

"Itching means you're healing," Nylah said. "So don't scratch at them. Honestly, Alv, as frustrating as this has all been for you, you should be very glad. You're healing very fast. If a human suffered the same wounds you did I doubt he'd even be able to get out of bed yet. You dragons are very fast healers."

"Not fast enough," the dragon muttered. Then he smiled a little bit, a soft purr creeping up his throat as Nylah caressed the scales of his muzzle. "We brought you lamb, Nylah." He didn't care that Kirra had already told the old lady. He wanted to tell her himself. She...meant something to him. "And fruit tarts."

"Yes, I noticed the tarts when Kirra hurled one at your head."

Alvaranox chose to ignore that. "The lamb is excellent. I have been told to tell everyone that, but I'd have said as much to you anyway. I think you will enjoy it."

"Thank you for bringing it then," Nylah said, patting the dragon's neck. "Let me get some, and then I'll join you on the grass. I'll bring your tarts over as well, alright?"

Alvaranox nodded. When Nylah straightened up he withdrew his head. Kirra shifted her weight back and forth a little, fidgeting with the scarlet half sleeves of her dress. Alvaranox settled back on his haunches nearby, curling his spined tail around his paws. "It was Kirra's idea to bring it back for you."

Nylah probably already knew that, but Kirra seemed happy to hear the dragon say it out loud. Kirra smiled. She gave the dragon a warm glance when Nylah thanked her for her thoughtfulness. Nylah soon gathered up the lamb wrapped in parchment and walked over to the dragon. She sat down alongside him, leaning up against his haunch. Nylah leaned her head back against the dragon's green scales, her smiling face framed by layers of frizzy gray hair.

Nylah reached up, offering the dragon a tart. "Here. This one is blackberry, I think. Your favorite."

Alvaranox smiled at the woman, and delicately took the tart from her hand with his teeth. He tossed his head back, snapping it up, then gave a heavy sigh of pleasure at the sweet, familiar flavor of the blackberry jam that filled it. His favorite of all flavors he'd grown accustomed to while being stuck in Asterryl. As he savored it, Nylah began to eat some of the roast lamb they'd brought her, murmuring in delight.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Nylah beamed up at the dragon, then at Kirra. "Thank you both for bringing it."

"You're welcome," Kirra said, giving the green dragon and older woman a little smile. She nibbled on one of the other fruit tarts, leaning against the bench.

Alvaranox watched her a moment, then glanced down at Nylah. The sun was warm against his scaly back and the leathery membranes of his wings as he stretched them out. Strange. He felt unusually at peace in that moment. Simply sharing company with the two humans who had become his only real companions in this place. Whenever Nylah and Kirra were with him, the barrel in which he was always trapped felt just a little larger.

A little more like home.

The dragon sighed. Such emotions made him feel soft and sentimental. He was a dragon. He was supposed to be furious. He was supposed to be above needs for simple friendship with humans. He should not strive for or accept companionship with anything other than another dragon. Yet he was also supposed to be free.

The Guardian Slave would never be free. Perhaps it was not so bad for him to accept companionship wherever he might find it.

Alvaranox turned his head to smile down at Nylah. He stretched a wing out to his side, then draped it across the woman like a warm blanket. Nylah accepted the gesture, snuggling up against Alvaranox's black-mottled haunch. Alvaranox wondered if she actually understood the comforting intimacy for a dragon of wrapping another beneath his wings. To accept them as a friend, and offer them shelter from the world.

Kirra rustled around in the basket, fetching herself another tart. She leaned against the picnic table, staring off into the distance while she nibbled the treat. It almost seemed as though she did not wish to intrude on what was a semi-private moment between the dragon and his former handler. Yet it was not a gesture Alvaranox intended to reserve solely for Nylah. Not anymore. As Nylah so often said, Kirra was his handler now. Kirra was also his friend.

Alvaranox opened his other wing, half curling it around an empty space. He cleared his throat with a little growl to get Kirra's attention. "Come along, then. My other wing isn't going to cuddle itself."

Kirra's face brightened. A radiant smile stretched over her lips. She picked up the basket and quickly trotted over to the dragon. She plopped herself down on the grass, snuggling up against the dragon's side opposite Nylah. Alvaranox slowly closed his wing around her. Kirra soon offered him a tart just as Nylah had, and the dragon gently took it the same way.

After that the dragon gave a happy sigh. He gazed around. Davan and the other guards were at a distance. Hopefully too far to see how cuddly the dragon was acting. Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. At least for one evening, the Guardian Slave was completely at peace.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

"If either of you ever tell anyone I let you cuddle me, I shall bite you both on the ass."

---

Chapter Thirteen

---

"You're certain I am ready?" Alvaranox lay upon his back atop his pile of soft things, his wings half folded at his sides. Sunlight poured through the windows in golden streamers that danced on the dragon's green scales. Alvaranox tucked his front paws against his chest. He held his head up and cocked it to watch the women working. The bitter smells of herbs and medicinal spirits tainted the air. "You are certain, aren't you?"

Nylah shook a pair of shears at him as she crouched next to his shoulder, near the front of his wing. "You're the one who's been pestering us to get these stitches out."

Alvaranox snorted, his spines raising. Things seemed a little more nerve wracking now that the moment had arrived. Despite the dragon's glare and flared crests, hints of poorly hidden concern softened his voice. "What if I'm wrong?"

Kirra clambered up atop the dragon's chest, settling herself just below his plates. "Then your wounds will pop open again." Kirra sounded far too cheerful to be speaking about something so gruesome. She tapped her own set of shears against the dark green plates that protected the dragon's heart and lungs. "And we'll have to start all over. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"The point is," Nylah said as worked her shears into the sinewy stitches held the dragon's wounded shoulder together. They'd been there longer than Alvaranox cared to think about. "If you don't feel ready, we won't proceed. Most of your wounds are healed, but your paw and your belly were the worst of them by far. If anything isn't healed, it's those. So..." Nylah carefully snipped the ends of the sturdy stitch, and began to pull it back through the dragon's flesh. The wound upon his shoulder was now a puffy pink line stretching across his scales. Tiny holes marked it where the stitches were removed. The dragon winced as they were pulled free one by one. "Do you feel healed or not?"

Alvaranox lifted his head to look himself over. Aside from Kirra straddling his chest, the dragon's body was bare of all coverings for the first time in ages. He'd gotten so used to having bandages wrapped and affixed to his scales he had almost stopped noticing how itchy they could be. As his wounds healed they had gotten itchy as well, and he had to fight not to scratch them. His belly bore a large, ugly pink scar still bristling with sinew thread stitches. The dragon doubted that scar would ever fade. His paw was little better, and would remain tender to walk upon even as the scar gradually shrunk.

With a growl, Alvaranox thrust his paw at Kirra. "Get the damn things out of me."

"Alright, Alv," Kirra said, chuckling. "You'll have to be careful for a while, though. Your leg won't have as much strength as it did, and neither will your wings."

"Less blabber, more stitch removal."

Kirra smirked at the dragon. She cradled the dragon's forepaw gently in her hands, inspecting the mottled pink and black pads. The dragon had healed very well, though the angry pink tone of the scar did not match the naturally pink blotches of his pads. Kirra snipped the tied ends off the thick stitches. Then one by one, she began to pull them free. Alvaranox grit his teeth at the feel of the sinews sliding through his still-tender flesh but it was a pain he was happy to bear. Once all the stitches were removed, Nylah passed up a cloth soaked with spirits. Kirra gently washed the dragon's paw pad with it. The harsh liquid stung the little holes that remained where the stitches had been, and Alvaranox yanked his paw away.

"Enough already!" Alvaranox peered at his own paw pad a moment. He slowly closed his paw into a fist, watching the scar that marked it crinkle before it disappeared under his green-scaled fingers. The motion made his paw throb a little, but it was nothing he had not expected. He opened and closed it a few times. "Hurts a little."

"That's understandable," Nylah said from his side. She began to wash the wound upon his shoulder with the same sharp-smelling spirits. It stung a little, but the dragon did not flinch. "The pain should lessen as your paw adjusts to being used again. It's probably going to hurt to walk on it for a while as well."

"I don't care," Alvaranox said. He tossed his head, though laying upon his back the gesture was little more than a thump of his horns against a pillow. "As long as I can walk on all fours without that stupid sling I shall be quite happy."

Kirra reached forward and brushed her fingers over the dragon's foreleg. Alvaranox understood the gesture, and offered her his paw again. As long as she wasn't going to use the spirits again she was welcome to examine him. She gently pressed her fingers into the meaty flesh of the dragon's paw pad all around his scar. As she expected color returned to the dragon's pads almost immediately every time.

"Looks perfect," Kirra said, smiling at Nylah. Then she tried to amend herself. "Well, perhaps not perfect, given the permanent scar there. But, considering how bad it was before I stitched him back together, it's close enough to perfect. Probably won't ever be perfect again..."

"Quit while you're ahead, Kirra," Nylah said, grinning.

"She'd have to be ahead in the first place," Alvaranox said, perking his frilled ears in amusement. "Though, I suppose there is a first time for everything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kirra scowled at him, swatting him on his chest plates before she turned around to straddle him near his belly scar.

"Oh, don't worry Kirra," the dragon said, licking his nose. "I'm sure we'll let you think you're ahead of us someday, just to make you feel important."

Kirra snorted as though imitating the dragon. "I'm always ahead. You're just so far behind you can't tell."

"Yes, Kirra, keep telling yourself that."

"You know, Dragon," Nylah said, giving Kirra a suspiciously wicked smirk as she moved around the dragon to begin working on the arrow wound in his haunch. "If I were you, I would be exceptionally polite and kind to Kirra right now."

"Then that is where you and I differ."

"I suppose you have a point," Nylah said, kneeling down next to the dragon's haunch. She pushed on the slightly rough green scales there to get him to shift his hind leg for her. "Of course, I'm not the one sprawled on my back, with my hind legs parted. It would be easy for Kirra to wallop you in a very tender area."

Kirra smirked over her shoulder at the dragon as Nylah gave her an excellent idea. Alvaranox glared at her, then flattened his spines against his head. "Have I told you how wonderful you are Kirra?"

"No, but you might want to start." Kirra giggled to herself, then leaned forward to inspect the stitches. "Now hold still."

"I am holding still," the dragon muttered. When Kirra leaned forward over his belly, her rump lifted into the air a little. Alvaranox could not help but notice how her haunches pressed against her black breeches. "You're the one wriggling about."

"I am not wriggling," Kirra said, then waggled her rump at him. "This is wriggling. Now be quiet a moment."

Alvaranox growled in his throat, eyes shifting back and forth with the motion of the woman's body. Both women dressed similarly today. Each wore a simple blouse and breeches, fit for a day of working with the dragon. In Nylah's case her blouse was blue and her breeches a slate gray, while Kirra wore a dark green shirt with long sleeves, and black breeches that did not seem as loose fitting as usual to the dragon. Alvaranox rather liked the color combination as it matched his own scales.

Alvaranox cringed a little when he felt Kirra snip the end off the first stitch. The motion tugged at the still-sensitive flesh of the scar. Trying to keep himself from staring at Kirra's haunches, he looked around the room a little, only to find Nylah smirking at him. He glared at her a moment, then parted his jaws and let his pink tongue hang from his muzzle. It was the closest he could come to sticking his tongue out at her the way Kirra often did to him.

Like what you see? Nylah mouthed the words silently to him, but after all the years Alvaranox had known the old lady they needed no sound to communicate.

Oh, get mounted, Alvaranox mouthed right back to her.

Looks more like you're the one thinking about mounting. Nylah smirked at him, pulling a stitch from the arrow wound in his haunch with a little too much force. You'd never fit.

Alvaranox sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide. He hadn't been thinking about...that. With...her! But now that Nylah said it, the image popped into his mind. The dragon's ears, nostrils and crests all flushed a faint purple hue in embarrassment as hot blood rushed to the beast's face. He looked away, pinning his ears back, nostrils flaring.

"I win," Nylah said aloud.

Kirra glanced over in confusion. "You win what?"

"Oh don't mind me," Nylah said with an innocent smile. "I'm just keeping Alv distracted with a little battle of wills. How is it coming?"

"Well, actually," Kirra tossed down a few sets of stitches she'd already removed. "Halfway there."

"I haven't split open yet have I?" The dragon growled in his throat, trying to distract himself from Nylah's teasing. Kirra's position didn't help much. He lay his head back onto one of his pillows, closing his eyes. "I shall be quite cross if I have split open."

"Not yet," Kirra said, easing another stitch from his flesh. "If you do split open again though, I'm going to get someone else to put you back together. I'm not going through all that again."

"It is heartening to know, Kirra," Alvaranox said, thumping his tail against the blankets. "That should I receive another life threatening injury, you won't bother to fix me up again."

As Kirra worked to get the last of the stitches out of his belly, Nylah moved to the dragon's ribs. In order to avoid clambering all over his wing, she moved to his shoulder, and climbed up atop him just like Kirra. Then she stretched herself out across his belly, leaning over his side to start pulling the stitches from the arrow wound in his ribs.

"I feel like some children's playground, with younglings clambering all over me." Alvaranox lifted his head again to glare at the two women a moment.

"Now there's an idea," Nylah said, more to Kirra than to the dragon. "Perhaps we can rent him out to the local children. Sort of a mobile playground."

"Oh, and I could pass out chalk and charcoal sticks," Kirra giggled, tugging the last of the stitches free. "They could draw all over his scales. Come to think of it, I should have signed my name to this stitching I did. I'm quite proud of myself."

"Are you done?" The dragon lifted his wedged shaped head, baring his fangs at the two women clambering all over his body.

"I believe we are, yes." Nylah smiled at him, and began to ease herself down from the dragon's form.

"Then get the hell off me!"

"Hmmph!" Kirra gave a little snort, turning her nose up. "Some grateful beast you are."

"I shall be grateful when you've gotten yourself off of me so I can finally stand up properly again."

"Must you always be such a scaly ass?" Kirra started to slip down the side of the dragon's body.

"Don't step on my wings," Alvaranox hissed, impatience making him increasingly irritable. "Go around, like Nylah did."

Kirra scowled, and gave a little sigh. She started back up towards the dragon's chest, but Nylah waved her back the other way, smirking. "Go on then," Nylah said, with a wicked grin the dragon could not see. "You may as well while you have the chance."

"What are you old betties babbling about?"

Kirra made her way down the dragon's belly, careful not to bump his scar. "Oh, nothing." Soon she was moving down between his hind legs, climbing down onto his tail.

"Hey!" Alvaranox rustled his wings against the bedding. "What do you think you're doing down there?"

"Nylah thinks I should do this." Kirra made a fist, held it up over her head, and then made a show of swinging it down towards the dragon's most tender parts. Just as Alv cried out in alarm, Kirra brought her hand to a stop, and only gave the dragon's testicles a little swat. The little burst of pain was still enough to make Alv yelp, and Kirra quickly danced away from him, laughing. "Serves you right!"

Alvaranox groaned, and as soon as Kirra was clear, he rolled over onto his paws and sat up. Though no sooner was he sitting on his haunches than he was hunched over a little, clutching himself protectively. The dragon's face scrunched up, his eyes ridges knit together and he pinned his ears back.

"What was that for?" The dragon said through grit teeth.

"For acting like a brat while I was trying to help you." Kirra kept giggling as she began to clean up some of the spent stitches lying around. Then she smirked at the dragon. "And to let you know I could have done it a lot harder. And for staring at my ass."

"I was not staring at your ass," Alvaranox said, growling, his tail curling.

"Yes, he was," Nylah said, gathering up the cloths they'd used to wash the dragon's wounds.

"You shut up, Old Lady." Alvaranox snapped his jaws at her.

Nylah only grinned at the dragon. She wiped off the top of a flask of spirits with the blue sleeve of her blouse, then put the stopper back in. "If she'd done it spitefully, she'd have done it a lot harder." Nylah handed the flask to Kirra, then smirked at the dragon. "I'd have done it a lot harder if it was my ass you were staring at without permission."

"She was waggling it at me." The dragon turned his copper glare at Kirra, flaring his spines again. "This is your fault."

"Oh, hush," Kirra said, waving her hand. "Just be glad I didn't really want to hurt you."

"I am, actually," Alvaranox said, pulling his head back a little. His neck curled into an S. He lowered his voice as if trying to hide his words from Nylah, splaying his ears. "Unlike the Old Lady. She used to beat me unmercifully."

"I did no such thing," Nylah said, laughing. She shook her finger at the dragon, then put her hand on Kirra's back, grinning. "One time I kicked him in the stones, and he won't let me live it down."

Kirra's emerald eyes widened in surprise. "You really did kick him in the stones?"

"When we were both young," Nylah admitted. Her hazel eyes flicked to the dragon's, lingering for a moment. Best she could tell, he was still young.

"For no reason!" Alvaranox said. He grinned at Nylah and thumped his tail. He lifted his paw, and made a show of inspecting his now stitch-free scar. "I was innocent."

Kirra didn't believe the dragon for an instant. "What'd he do to deserve it?"

"Nothing," the dragon said, then flicking swiveled his ears to the sides. "...Nothing she didn't deserve just as much."

The two women continued to talk while they ferried unused supplies to a chest kept in the dragon's sleeping chamber. "As I recall it, he was angry at me for embarrassing him in front of the city by mistake. So rather than talk about it, he caught me bathing in the lake, hoisted me up into the sky, and tossed me naked into a nearby hay pile."

Kirra's jaw dropped. She whirled on her heel to face the dragon, a mask of frozen astonishment upon her face. She looked as though she wasn't sure if she should be horrified or amused, and so decided to go with both. "You did what?"

"It's not as if I carried her for miles upon miles..." Alvaranox gestured with his wounded paw as though testing it. "She had this secluded spot she used to bathe in, so I went there, snatched her out of the water, and tossed her into a hay pile. It was about the worst thing the collar would let me get away with."

"I'd have kicked you too!" Kirra's jaw hung open as she glanced back and forth between the dragon and the woman and finally just burst out laughing. "You two have to tell me more of these stories."

"You should have seen his face," Nylah said, laughing. "I'd never have guessed a dragon could go so cross-eyed. Or flush so deeply around his ears." Nylah nudged Kirra as the two woman shared a laugh. "I'm telling you, you should have really nailed him a moment ago while you had the chance."

"Thank you very much, Nylah," Alvaranox scoffed, lowering his head to glare at her. "What lovely advice you always give my newest handler."

"Oh, I'm only playing, Alv," Nylah said, reaching out to stroke the pebbly scales of the dragon's jaw line. "If I didn't consider you a dear friend, I wouldn't make such playful threats."

Alvaranox murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch. "I know." A smile crossed his snout, and he flicked his tongue across Nylah's fingers. "Thank you, Nylah."

"For what?" Nylah asked, taken aback for a moment.

"For..." The dragon grunted, pulling his head back. "For treating me like I'm just one of your friends." Then he glanced at Kirra too, emotion shining in his copper eyes. "You as well, Kirra. Believe it or not, it...well...you understand, don't you?"

Kirra laughed, and rubbed the golden spot at the end of his nose. Then she tried to wrap her arms around his head and hug him to her chest the best she could. Alvaranox smiled, lifting a paw to rub her back a moment. He wasn't sure if she truly understood what he was trying to say.

In truth, he didn't mind those sorts of threats. It made him happy they trusted him enough to say things like that. Neither of them would have ever said that sort of thing when they were first appointed Handler. No one else in town would dare threaten the Guardian Slave in such a way. But to Nylah and Kirra, he was not the Guardian Slave.

He was Alv, and he was their friend.

The long weeks spent recovering from his wounds had made that more clear to him than ever. The way they talked to him, the way they acted around him, it was not the way a master acted around a slave. It was not really even the way a human would act around a dragon. It was the way they'd act around a close friend. Someone they were comfortable enough around to say whatever was on their mind, to act however they wanted. Hell, Nylah and Kirra were probably only two women in all the world to say those sorts of things to a dragon.

"I am happy to have you as my friends," the dragon said, forcing the words past a throat that was suddenly tight and an unexpectedly dry tongue. "I wanted to say that."

Kirra hugged him harder, and Nylah smiled, moving to do the same. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and though they felt a little bonier than Kirra's, they were every bit as warm and comforting. The dragon flared his wings to enclose his two friends, hugging them in return. Silence settled upon them in a comforting cloak.

"We are happy to have you as our friend too, Alv," Nylah said, her voice a little raspy. She let his neck go, and turned away from the dragon to wipe at her eyes. "I am only sorry that it has to be under such painful circumstances for you. If we could but set you free..."

"I know," Alvaranox said, easing away from the women. "And the knowledge warms me more than you likely realize. Your friendship has made an intolerable situation far more bearable for me." The dragon lowered his head, and promptly rolled his tongue across Kirra's cheek. "That goes for both of you."

Kirra made a face, laughing and pushing the dragon's golden-spotted muzzle away. "Could have done without the dragon slobber!"

"Dragon slobber?" Nylah turned around and took a step back, but it was too late. Alvaranox was already upon her. Before she could cover up her face, the dragon licked her cheek as well, laughing as he did so. "Oh! Alv!" Nylah shoved at his snout, wiping her face with her sleeve. "You know I hate it when you do that by surprise!"

"Yes," Alvaranox said, grinning. "I do. Now...if you two hags will excuse me, it's time for me to test my paws and my wings."

"Hags?" Nylah huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "How dare you, Dragon!"

"Go tend your roses, Old Lady!"

Nylah simply laughed, shaking her head. "And he wonders why I twist his ears all the time." Nylah patted the dragon's haunch, her amused grin soon widening into a warmer smile. "Now, be safe, alright? Don't overextend yourself."

Alvaranox nodded as he took a few slow steps. His foreleg felt weaker than expected. When he first put weight on it, a blossom of pain in his paw caused the dragon to suck in a breath. His leg trembled, and he shifted some of his weight to lean against his other limb. "Still a little weak."

"It will be for a while," Kirra said, coming alongside the dragon. "But you should get your strength back in it fast enough."

"Good." Alvaranox walked forward, pushing through the heavy hide blankets serving as his door. "Walk me outside?"

"Delighted to." Nylah rubbed the dragon's haunch, and then followed him out into the sunshine.

Outside the sun had not yet reached its zenith but already the world was warm and bright. The breeze was heavily scented with the sweet aromas of myriad wildflowers fed by the recent rain. The dragon looked around for a path of ground that had thoroughly dried out, and made his way towards it. He limped a little at first. It was a strange thing to realize walking normally would take some getting used too. He made a wide circuit, walking in a circle. Nylah and Kirra both followed him at a distance, observing the way he moved.

"Feels odd," Alvaranox said, looking over his wings at the two women behind him. "Like learning to walk all over again."

"Not too painful?" Kirra walked a little closer, crouching down to study the dragon's limb as he took a few more steps. She glanced under his belly. "Everything looks alright. No sign of any bleeding from your wounds."

Alvaranox snapped his head up. "Were you expecting bleeding?"

"Not really," Kirra said, straightening.

Alvaranox growled. Nylah quirked a gray brow at the younger woman, and Kirra realized that wasn't the sort of reassurance she'd meant to offer. "I mean, that is, we didn't really think you'd start bleeding. But when you first started to move, there was always the chance that something could pop open, and you...well..."

"I would say quit while you were ahead, Kirra," Alvaranox said, shifting a little to curl his spined tail around Kirra's middle. "But I recall what that lead to last time. So instead, I shall just say shut up."

"Right," Kirra said, going a little red. She peered down at the dragon's tail as he coiled around her, then reached out to grasp one of the lightly curved spines. She tugged it back and forth a few times. "You can let me go now."

"Alright, stop tugging on my tail spine." Alvaranox uncurled his tail from her, taking a few more steps. "Those are anchored to the bone you know."

"Are they really?" Kirra glanced at Nylah, who simply shrugged. "I shall have to adjust my notes then."

"You do that," Alvaranox said, turning around to face the two women again. He smiled at them, his stomach suddenly twisting in delighted anxiety. "As much as I would like to stay here and alternate between thanking you for taking such good care of me and insulting you mercilessly, I do believe it is time for me to go."

"Go?" Kirra blinked, hooking some red hair behind one of her ears. "Where are you going?"

"The skies are calling him," Nylah said softly.

Alvaranox turned his head to peer at Nylah. A smile spread over the dragon's pebbly green-scaled muzzle. He was surprised she remembered that saying. Even to the dragon it seemed like ages ago when he had first come to trust her. First come to call her friend. When they had laid in the sunshine near his previous sleeping chamber, and he confided in her that he feared that his slavery was slowly driving him to madness.

I cannot be locked in this place, Nylah. The skies are calling me. I must be free.

"I cannot set you free, Alv," Nylah said, gently taking the dragon's chin in her hands. She spoke nearly the same words she had that day ages ago, when he truly came to trust her. "But neither can the collar keep you from the skies. Go and dance with the clouds until it calls you back."

Alvaranox smiled a little more. He leaned in and nuzzled her cheek, and her ear. He knew she didn't want to be licked, so he showed his affection in a much drier way. But the affection was there just the same. A soft purr crept from his throat and rumbled in her ears. Then he turned his head and nuzzled Kirra just the same before stepping back.

"To the skies, then."

Nylah took Kirra by the hand and gently tugged her off to the side so the dragon would have room to ascend. "If you've not returned to town by nightfall, we shall take that to mean you're sleeping on your island."

"That is the plan," Alvaranox said, flaring his wings. "Peace and quiet and solitude at last. No more cranky old ladies and rambling younglings yammering in my ears at night."

Alvaranox smiled to himself, took a deep breath. The dragon bound forward, and launched himself off his powerful hind legs. He flared his wings and for the first time in ages, beat them against the air. Alvaranox ascended in a tight spiral above Asterryl. When he could see the whole city stretching out beneath him as gray smear upon the green land, he threw back his head and roared.

Let all of Asterryl know they had their Guardian Slave back.

---

Chapter Fourteen

---

Alvaranox relished the feel of the wind against his body. To the dragon the winds touch was a lover's caress. Currents of air brushed against scales, and teased sensitive wing membranes. The dragon's wings felt every tiny current, every updraft, every faint change in temperature. He flicked his flight membranes closed to protect his eyes. For the dragon who'd spent long years alone and many weeks in recovery, his spiraling ascent was nearly erotic. Wind stroked every scale. His life may be lonely but at least he had the wind to call his companion.

Gods. Alvaranox cursed himself. First he was staring at Kirra's haunches, now he getting excited by the wind. He had find a female.

Alvaranox rose higher, then flared his wings and rode the currents. Fingers of air teased his scales, stroked his wings. Asterryl spread beneath him as he climbed, stretching like an old gray scab upon the otherwise green land. Even if the city had not enslaved him, it would look like a blemish on the earth to the dragon.

Why did the humans have clear so much land for their homes? Could they not build among the trees? They should learn the Va'chaak, he thought. The lizard folk made do with simple structures built amidst the swampy forests and northern shores of the Lake of Teeth. Why did the humans have to build such sprawling extravagance?

Alvaranox snorted. At least they made delicious things to eat. The thought of food caused the dragon's belly to rumble. Alvaranox grinned wide enough for all his sharp teeth to flash in the sunlight. Finally, he could hunt again. Not that he'd minded subsisting on human food for weeks on end. He'd missed the thrill of hunting live prey, the satisfaction of hot blood coating his tongue and still warm meat sliding down his throat.

Alvaranox dipped his right wing, pivoting in the sky. When he had his new heading, he beat his wings a few times, glancing down at Asterryl as it rolled beneath him. He spotted the main market plaza immediately. It stood out to the dragon even now. The place he'd first been collared. From above, the oddly geometric shape of the walls that surrounded the plaza was very apparent. As were the many other walls that once ringed the outer edges of the town, now long since incorporated into its design. Each held its own unique pattern and shape, its own set of lines dividing the town. It made the town look like some sort of puzzle box with oddly shaped rings to be rotated until they fit together.

In a blink, Asterryl was burning and the walls were laid bare in a series of charred black runes upon the land. Scorched lines drawn in baked sand. Alvaranox shook his head, hissing. He lifted his recently freed paw and grasped at the collar, tugging it back and forth. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the images to fade. When he looked at the town again, everything was normal once more.

"Stupid collar," he hissed. "It's not my fault if you're broken! Stop sending me images like that. I'm not going to let the town be burned down. Unless you let me get killed, and that's your fault."

Alvaranox cocked his head as he flew as if expecting an answer from the collar. No reply came, and the dragon beat his wings a little harder, eager to be away from Asterryl for a while. Already his wings and his back were aching. Flight did not usually wear him down so quickly. The dragon hoped his flight muscles had not atrophied too badly while he was recovering. Nor was he used to flight causing his heart to pound so steadily in his chest. The minor heart chambers near his tail throbbed in echoing pulse. He really had been lazing around.

Perhaps Kira was right. He needed more exercise. But the dragon would sooner tell Kirra he was giving up wine than admit she was right about something.

It occurred to the dragon that if the collar was trying to warn him Asterryl was about to burn down, perhaps he shouldn't leave. He snorted. Surely he could make it back in time to rescue Nylah and Kirra and Captain Crossbow. Besides, if the town were truly in imminent danger surely the collar wouldn't even let him leave. It wasn't as though he'd be more than a short flight away.

Alvaranox flew on despite the discomfort. The only way to strengthen his wings and return his body to a state of strength was to keep flying. Soon the walls of Asterryl were well behind him as Alvaranox made for the edge of the moors. He was not going too far, just far enough to find some wild prey. Though the dragon had no qualms about taking some farmer's sheep, he wanted to hunt something that had lived a wild life. Let it die a wild death, and nourish a wild beast.

Alvaranox did not mind thinking of himself as a wild beast. In the dragon's mind there was a world of difference between a beast and a monster. A beast was a creature who lived in the wilds, who freely roamed the land and often subsisted on other wild beasts. Dragons were simply beasts with great intelligence.

Monsters, on the other hand, were a concept twisted by humanity. To a dragon, a monster was anything who favored cruelty and death. A dragonslayer was a monster. Yet so was a fellow dragon who sought to burn humans in their homes. To a human, a monster was anything they feared. Dragons were monsters in their minds. To Alvaranox his kind were anything but. Dragons were beasts with minds and thoughts, but claws and scales and great hunger did not a monster make.

At least Nylah and Kirra had come to know that. The dragon smiled, fixing his mind upon his friends for a moment. Yes. He could admit that to himself. He was friends with humans. He cared little for everyone else in that festering town that stole his freedom, but he cared for Nylah and Kirra. Alvaranox had never really expected to come to consider Kirra his friend. It had taken ages for him to grow to trust Nylah, and years beyond that for him to come to call her friend. Kirra had managed that feat in a far shorter span of time. Were it not for his grave injuries, Alvaranox doubted he'd have gotten to know her so well. Yet she'd spent nearly every waking moment watching over the dragon. Part of him had come to enjoy her presence.

No! No, he had not. What was he thinking. Kirra was a kind soul, but a bother nonetheless. Always babbling to him, staring at him, drawing him with his heart laid bare...No! Alvaranox snapped his jaws. At least Nylah had the decency to keep her friendship to herself. Why, he had to go and seek her out when he wanted companionship. No, wait, that wasn't what he meant. He didn't want companionship from either of them.

Damn it. He was stumbling over his thoughts as surely as Kirra's words tripped over her tongue. He didn't need either of them. They could both get mounted. And Nylah doubly so for suggesting he was thinking such a thing about Kirra.

Alvaranox smirked to himself. Clever Old Lady. That was just the sort of thing a female dragon would have said to embarrass him. He sighed to himself, his thoughts drifting a little further from shore. What would life have been like if Nylah had been born in the body of a dragon instead of trapped in that frail little human frame? It was a question he'd pondered before. One night after too much wine he'd even posed it to her. She laughed it off and teased him, but once in a while he caught her staring at him in a way that made it clear she wondered the same thing.

Granted, she probably wondered what it would have been like if he'd been born a human. But Alvaranox knew it would have been better if Nylah was a dragon and not the other way around. Who wanted to be a human anyway? They were frail, had hair in odd places and smelled funny. Dragons were clearly the victors in whatever twisted contest the Gods must have held to decide upon the design of the world's species.

Alvaranox glanced at the earth to get his bearings. Acres of checkerboard farmland, clusters of red painted barns, and narrow dirt lanes stretched through the green hills beneath him. As Alvaranox flew on, the farms and roadside inns that sprawled out beyond Asterryl slowly gave way to emptier lands. The dragon had almost forgotten how beautiful the moors could be. In the sunlight, the gray rock ridges that capped so many of the endless rises shone silver. The many shades of green that coated the land seemed more vibrant than ever, nourished by the recent heavy rains. Long, low valleys were carpeted in color where receding waters left behind a bevy of wildflower seeds that quickly blossomed.

The dragon soon turned his attention from sightseeing to filling his belly when he spotted a small herd of prey animals. The humans called them mountain goats, but they called a lot of things a goat. Several different species in fact, seemed to be called mountain goats. Alvaranox called this particular species the three-horns. He'd picked the name up from his mother. They were delicious and plentiful in the moors. The name came obviously enough from the fact they had three horns, rather than two. They were covered in a layer of gray fur that was soft and thin in the summer and shaggy and dense in the winter. Two of their horns curled at the sides of their head, while the third arched back between them.

I want three horns too! Alvaranox smiled at the sudden memory of himself as a hatchling. His mother had brought back a freshly slain three-horn, and in his hatchling envy, he wanted a third horn for his little skull. His mother broke off the central horn and gave it to him. For weeks after that he carried it around and held the extra horn atop his own head, despite the fact it vastly outsized his own little horns. Back then they'd been little more than black nubs.

Look momma! Alvaranox remembered himself holding the big horn atop his head. I'm horny!

The dragon burst out laughing at the memory. His mother hadn't known what to make of that one. Didn't take her long to start laughing though. Remembering his mother first lifted the dragon's heart, then dropped it to the cold pit of uncertainty. What had happened to her? It pained the dragon that he would probably never know her fate. If only he could remember the years just before he was collared. He had left home, hadn't he? He was awfully young, though.

Alvaranox sighed and closed his copper eyes as he flew. He pictured his mother best he could. The image had been sharp in his dreams days earlier, but when he tried to recall it in his waking hours the details grew fuzzy. She was green. She had gold markings. Mottling and stripes. A shorter muzzle than he had as an adult. A curvier body, no spines on her tail. Love in her coppery eyes and a soft, kind look to her face though a human would likely never know the difference.

Alvaranox grunted, opening his eyes again. Time to stop wallowing in memories and self-pity, and fill his belly with something juicy and delicious. Nothing improved a dragon's mood like flying, hunting, and feeding. Well, perhaps mating. Lacking any female candidates, Alvaranox would settle for food. He flicked his wings a few times, spiraling in a wide berth around the boulder-strewn hill upon which the three-horns grazed.

Alvaranox watched his prey for a few minutes, selecting his target. They all looked healthy and strong, munching on heathers, grasses and the sweeter, nectar tinted blue flowers that poked up between patches of stone. Alvaranox settled upon a three-horn that looked older than the rest. His fur was a bit shaggy despite the summer, his horns worn down from a few generations of battling for supremacy. Probably no longer the herd alpha. He'd probably lived a full life, by three-horn standards. Time for it to end in a dragon's belly.

The dragon swung back around towards the hill and folded his vast green and black wings in. He began to dive, picking up speed as he hurtled towards the ground. Diving was exhilaration itself. Like flight, a full speed dive could border on eroticism to a dragon. The twisting feeling of controlled freefall, the sensation of wind rushing over every inch of his form faster and faster. Alvaranox would have roared his delight mid-dive if it wouldn't have frightened his prey.

By the time the three-horns heard the dragon whistling through the air, it was already too late. Just as they scattered, Alvaranox flared his wings once more. He pulled up from his dive moments before dashing himself against the rocky hill. As he swept back up over the stony rise, he sank his claws into the back of the terrified beast. The three-horn bleated in pain and fear as the dragon yanked it off its hooves. The creature's terror lasted only a few moments before Alvaranox hurled the thing against the undulating ridge of rock capping the rise. The creature's skull imploded and its neck snapped, ending its pain in an instant.

Alvaranox relished hunting, relished killing his prey, but he saw no reason for them to suffer unduly. Though dragons were beasts, they were sentient beasts. They understood the concept of pain. Where a less intelligent predator may devour its prey while it yet suffered, Alvaranox preferred to end the animal first. For a lesser beast, eating living prey did not make it a monster because the creature did not understand. A monster was made when the creature understood that suffering and inflicted it anyway.

It brought to mind dragonslayers. A dragon slayer may plunge his blade into the more vulnerable parts of a dragon's belly, twist it in his entrails. Did the slayer feel sympathy for the agonizing slowness with which he ended the dragon's life? Dragons were not easy creatures to kill, and though humans had proven capable of killing them, Alvaranox wondered if any of them pitied his kind the pain they suffered in their last moments.

His own belly throbbed in sympathy and he forced the dark thoughts from his mind. He was out here to relax and enjoy himself, damn it. Not to think about Nylah or Kirra and certainly not to think about the men who tried to kill him. Or why other men had come to his town. Did they want Asterryl for some reason? If the attacks were connected, it stood to reason they were more than just the dragon slayers he first suspected.

"Shut up, Alv," the dragon snapped at himself.

Alvaranox spun around in the sky, heading back towards the now abandoned hill where his kill lay. For a moment he considered touching down on the narrow strip of rock that snaked along the rise. Given his recent lack of practice landing, he decided against it. The last thing he needed was to have his hind paws slip on some moss. With his luck his hind legs would splay out to either side and he'd land stones-first. Alvaranox didn't want to spend the evening in pain just for a trick landing no one was around to see.

As the dragon swept in low, he back-winged a few times, touching down on his hind paws first. He dropped the rest of the way down onto a stretch of grass and thick moss, then trotted to a stop. The scent of blood already hung heavily in the air, and the coppery aroma made the dragon's stomach boil in growing hunger. He snarled in excitement, and bound to his kill. He took a deep breath, squeezed his fire glands and bathed the carcass in roiling flames. Heat washed across his sensitive nose, and the smell of burning fur and skin temporarily overwhelmed all other scents. When his breath gave out, the dragon flopped down on his belly next to his meal.

Alvaranox wasn't looking to cook the meat, simply to char the fur from the creature's body. Though he could eat and pass the fur if he needed, he did not enjoy it. For some creatures he used his claws to skin them, but when the fur was thin it was just as easy to burn it all away. Besides, it gave the skin the a delightful crispiness. Alvaranox sank his teeth into the goat's charred haunch. Hot blood spilled over his tongue as he tore away flesh and blackened skin. The dragon groaned in delight, his spined tail sweeping the ground. Little wildflowers and chunks of moss were uprooted by the spines, but they seemed a worthy sacrifice in celebration of his first kill in ages.

Alvaranox wanted to savor the kill, but he lacked the patience needed. He was too hungry and had missed hunting too much to take his time. Instead he gorged himself on the meat, stripping it from the bones. Then he went for the creatures entrails, feasting upon its heart and lungs, liver and kidneys. He left the other digestive and excretory organs. Yes, he could eat them if he wished, but he'd always found them a bit distasteful. Besides, there were plenty of scavengers in the wilds who would happily fill their bellies with the bits the dragon left behind.

When the meat was gone, the dragon tore the goat's femur away from its body, then ripped it from the rest of the ligaments and bones of the limb. He snapped the bone in half, and then began to lap at the marrow within. Alvaranox was careful not to cut his tongue on the broken bone. It wouldn't be the first time. When he was a hatchling, his mother always broke open the larger bones of a kill. She'd smooth the broken ends down with a stone, and then let him savor the treats within. Marrow held a sweet flavor to the tongue of a dragon. For Alvaranox, it also held nostalgia, and thoughts of his mother. He did what he could to keep the thoughts pleasant.

When he was full, the dragon rose to his feet. He licked the blood from his paws and did his best to wash his muzzle with his tongue. He'd give himself a better bath later when he went to his island. For now the dragon had other priorities. Like laziness. Alvaranox stretched out in the sun alongside the nearly skeletal remains of his meal, and lay his head upon the nearest patch of soft moss. Tiny red tendrils were flattened out beneath the pebbly scales of his jaw. He rolled around on the softness a little, spreading his scent. Let all the beasts that came to scavenge his kill know a dragon had done the work.

Alvaranox ended up sprawled out upon his belly. It was good to be able to lay on his belly again. His scar still ached a little when he bumped it, but once he was comfortable the worst of the pain faded. He splayed out his wings, letting the sun warm the black-mottled green membranes. Soon the dragon felt his eyelids growing heavier, felt the post-prey drowsiness settling in on him. Alvaranox saw no reason to fight it, and let himself doze off in the wilds as he'd done so many times before.

When the dragon awoke some time later, he was pleasantly surprised to find it was not to the sound of a bell. Nor was it to the sound of a woman's voice or crackling thunder or any other nuisance. He simply awoke from his nap when his body was ready. Ah. He'd almost forgotten it was possible to sleep until he woke naturally.

Alvaranox opened his eyes and found a small cluster of ravens already gathered around the remains of his kill. The dragon yawned and stretched his paws. His pink tongue curled in his muzzle. The movement caused the ravens to flap off a short distance, but it wasn't long before they were hopping back to the kill again. That was fine with the dragon. The rest of the meat was theirs, if they could eat it before something larger came along. Already a few larger birds were circling in the skies above him, and something furry skulked between rocks in the distance.

"Good luck with all that," Alvaranox said, grinning at the birds as he rose to his feet.

The birds squawked, flapped and hopped away. The dragon paid them little heed as he leapt into the skies again. Much as he would have enjoyed spending the evening out in the empty moors, he wanted to visit his island. He missed his secret hideaway. Hopefully it hadn't gotten too overgrown while he was stuck in Asterryl. Soon the dragon ascended high enough to see the mirrored surface of the Lake of Teeth glimmering blue in the distance.

As the dragon flew the lake grew from a blue sparkle on the horizon to a vast expanse of dark water reflecting the blue sky. Rocky islands dotted the massive lake. Jagged stones lined much of the shore. As Alvaranx drew closer, he saw several fishing boats upon the lake. Asterryl had a series of docks where the town abutted a softer swath of shoreline. Nearer the docks, men were wading chest deep in the cold water, dragging long seines behind them to scoop up schools of small fish. The larger boats hauled in heavier netting, pulling up fatter fish destined for the evening market.

Alvaranox dipped a wing and pivoted away from the town, heading towards the center of the lake. His island was the largest of the many landmasses that speckled the lake, roughly in the center of the western end of it. Far to the north lay the distant shore where the rocks gave way to tangled masses of roots beneath ancient trees. Several rivers entered the lake there, and the land around them was thickly forested, wet and swampy. A few small, simple boats drifted near the northern shore. A couple of Va'chaak were hurling simple nets for fish. Alvaranox wondered if that was a skill their people had learned in their occasional visits to Asterryl.

The dragon began to descend as he neared his island. The rugged expanse of land was once capped by an imposing stone fortress. At one end of the island, a small swath of forest had taken hold where the stones were fewer and the earth was richer. The little beach that tipped the island once contained a dock, but the dragon had long since ripped it up and let the debris float away to prevent humans from visiting his home.

Despite the ages that had passed since the fortress had first been constructed amidst the jagged outcrops and cliffs of the island, enough walls remained to dominate the area's silhouette. The curtain wall enclosing the old courtyard was still mostly intact. In some places the walls now rose higher than others where the mortar had crumbled and left little slopes of scree and broken stone bricks. Vines of bramble and ivy alike shrouded some of the walls. Towers that once watched over the island had long since toppled into the water. One of them poked up from the lake, the battered surface tinted green where algae clung to the wave-washed stone. The only tower that hadn't fallen into the water lay in shattered cylindrical chunks along one side of the courtyard. A gnarled tree grew from a hollow in one stony mass while moss and thick, barky vines were draped across another.

Alvaranox circled his island getaway for a little while. From above the lines of broken wall that marked the island looked like some half-finished geometric design. It reminded him of the walls in Asterryl and the ruin where he was ambushed. The dragon smiled. The lines on the earth that humans built in their cities and fortifications were almost artistic. They held an odd sort of beauty that their creators would never even realize. Not unless they grew wings, anyway.

Alvaranox folded his wings a little, entering a gentle dive. Soon, he spread the membranes once more to slow his descent, sweeping in over the edge of the outer wall of the ruined fortress. He extended his hind legs and touched down in the courtyard. He trotted to a stop, hissing to himself. In his absence the courtyard had become quite overgrown. All around the place, thistles with wicked barbs now stood as if defying the dragon who came here to relax. Admittedly the purple and red flowers that topped some of them were beautiful. They were still a threat to his paw pads.

The dragon hissed to himself. He began to stride around the broken courtyard, using his spined tail as a scythe to down as many troublesome thistles as he could. "Damn nettles," Alvaranox muttered. "Ought to have Nylah out here to do a bit of gardening."

Nylah. Thinking of her made the dragon smile. She would like it out here. It was quiet and peaceful. There were plenty of weeds for her to replace with roses. Kirra would enjoy his island as well. It had plenty of things for her to explore and sketch in her drawing pads. In the small forest there were rare herbs and mushrooms that grew, and a beach for her to swim. Kirra would enjoy that.

Alvaranox scowled to himself. When he thought of his two friends, the island's silence seemed empty. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking that way. He wanted the quiet, he wanted the solitude. Yes, that was it. He was a dragon, torn from the wilds and tied to Asterryl as its guard dog. Surrounded by humans who buried their guilt beneath false concern. The island had always been his refuge from that. A place to relax on his own, and remember who he was. To escape that false concern, to forget their lack of fear and respect. Here, in his solitude, Alvaranox almost felt like a dragon again. That was why he came here, wasn't it? He snorted, flaring his spines as he padded across the courtyard.

He ducked his head into the semi-circular hollow beneath one of the broken tower sections. He flared his nostrils, searching for animals to chase off or devour. Seemed as though only the thistles had taken over. That was good. He didn't want the island's animal inhabitants to think they had free reign of the place.

The dragon spotted a small green lizard climbing a wall cloaked in vines. The lizard's emerald scales blended in with the dark green, heart-shaped leaves. Only the movement of the leaves as they bent beneath the lizard's weight gave it away. Alvaranox watched it stalk a strikingly crimson beetle for a moment. He scowled to himself when the beetle reminded him of Kirra.

Alvaranox half-expected to hear her chiding him for letting his home get so messy. At least that was one thing he wouldn't have to worry about. He forced a smile across his muzzle as he let the silence settle in. Yes, it was lovely and quiet out here. A few birds chirped in the distance. Unseen insects buzzed from the treetops. And yet the sounds seemed empty.

For the first time he could recall, his island felt lonely.

All the years he'd spent in the midst of Asterryl, feeling alone among so many faces. A guard dog passed upon the street, granted an occasional pat on the head but rarely shown real concern. The dragon built walls against loneliness with biting words and fortified those walls with drink. He'd strengthened his heart with the knowledge that dragons were often solitary by nature. What difference did it make if he found his solitude upon the moors or inside Asterryl? Over the years he tried to bury memories of happy times with Nylah, and with other dragons. Nylah was aging and the other dragons were all gone, and he rarely wished to remember what he could not have. The walls that kept his loneliness at bay seemed to be closing in lately.

Scowling, the dragon pushed his way inside the room he'd claimed as his sleeping chamber, beyond the still-standing entry hall. It was among the largest rooms that remained intact, though it wasn't much larger than his home in Asterryl. Alvaranox had no idea what function the room had once served, but over his years coming here he'd filled it up with trinkets and treasures of his own, as well as an entire hoard's worth of stolen blankets, pillows and cushions. If anything his bed on the island was even more luxuriant than his bed back in the city.

Halfway through the entryway to his hidden home, the dragon paused. Aside from a few signs of rodents and animals roaming the place, it seemed almost exactly as he'd left it. Alvaranox peered around, his spined tail twitching. His many trophies still adorned the stolen shelves he'd carefully carried out to the island. Trinkets and reminders of his life adorned the room. For a moment his copper gaze lingered upon a pawful of blue and purple scales. Alvaranox's heart froze, ice trickled through the dragon's veins. The dragon could not breath.

He still had Rain's scales.

Rain. He used to call her Rain. Her full name was Raynarilis, but he'd met her in the pouring rain. After so many decades among humans, their words were etched across his mind. Raynarilis loved the rain so when he told her what the nickname meant, she bore it happily. Alvaranox stared into his sleeping chamber, the ghost of her memory flitting about the room. Alvaranox could almost smell her scent. Perhaps it still lingered in some of his blankets and things, all these years later.

Nylah and Kirra knew about Rain, they'd seen her at a distance a few times. They knew her as Alvaranox's most recent lover, though even that was ten years gone now. But they did not know how deep his friendship with Rain once ran. They did not know how close the two of them had grown over a short time. How happy they were together upon his island. Nor did anyone else know that if Rain was still around, she might have become much more to Alvaranox than a friend. Then again, she might not have. The worry he felt for her in the weeks after she left and never returned had slowly faded along the rest of the emotions he'd woven around her blue scales. Now her memory was nothing but another scar upon his heart.

Seeing her scales opened that scar, and images of her flooded his mind. Alvaranox stumbled out of the room and back into the courtyard. He flopped onto his haunches, gazing into the distance as though he could see through the broken walls that surrounded his home. Rain stood across the courtyard from him, hunkered down and ready to bound away. She smirked over her wings, daring him to chase her. To catch her. To mount her. Alv shook his head, and glanced up at the skies. Rain danced among the clouds. The sinking sun made her purple highlights glow. Her laughter echoed back to earth. Alvaranox blinked a few times, and she was gone.

Ten years now, Rain was gone.

In that moment, it occurred to Alvaranox that he was not going to find what he came here for. Seeing the scales of his last lover only reminded the dragon how empty his life was. How long it had been since he'd seen another of his kind. Alvaranox's long throat tightened up, his copper eyes burned. He blinked a few times, fighting back the sudden rush of emotion that threatened to send tears spilling over his green scales. He did not want to sleep here alone anymore. He did not want solitude. He wanted companionship.

But he did not want to sleep in the midst of Asterryl either, surrounded by hordes of humans who did not care for him beyond the fact he kept them safe at night. Alvaranox bared his fangs, irritated to have his usually stoic heart tug so intently at his emotions on a day that was supposed to be joyful for him. He thought he'd missed this place and the gentle silence of it. Yet after weeks spent under the care of his friends, the silence was almost overwhelming.

His friends.

Alvaranox did have friends, didn't he? They were not dragons, but they did care for him, and that care was genuine. The walls that surrounded Alvaranox's heart were as broken as those of his fortress home, and he could not hold his pain at bay any longer. The dragon came to the island looking for peace and solitude, and he found only loneliness.

In the years since he last saw Rain, last saw another dragon, there were only two people he had come to find companionship with. Happier memories rolled through his mind. Eating treats in the market. Cuddling in the meadow. Watching Kirra draw.

Cursing his sudden softness, Alvaranox leapt into the skies on tired wings, heading for the Old Lady's house.

---

Nylah knelt in the dirt beneath her windowsill. She wiped beads of sweat from her brow with a gloved hand. In the hours that passed since Alvaranox left, she decided to finally get some yard work done. She recruited Kirra and the two of them spent the afternoon digging out ruined roses beneath her windowsill and replacing them with fresh, healthy plants. After that, they moved onto other windowsills and repeated the process. By late afternoon both women were covered in dirt and sweat, yet remained in high spirits.

Nylah eased back, sitting on her heels a moment. She wiped her hands upon her dirt-smeared blue blouse, the sleeves rolled up around her elbows. "Hand me that trowel will you, Dear?"

Kirra smiled and offered the woman the tool. "Here you are." She leaned forward and patted the mound of dirt surrounded the base of the latest rose plant she'd put into the ground. "What do you think the odds are Alv doesn't tear these up?"

"Not very good," Nylah admitted, working the trowel into the loamy soil. Then she laughed, shaking her head. She'd tied her gray hair back to keep it out of her eyes. "But that's why we're planting so many. Even if he tears up a few of them, at least the rest of them will have a chance to bloom again."

Kirra rose to her feet while Nylah dug the next hole, and fetched the juvenile rose bush in its little clay pot. She gently worked the root ball out of the pot, then loosened it up with her hands. They'd bought quite a few plants at the market once the dragon was out of sight. "That's a wise idea. There's only a few more after this one."

"Good," Nylah said, smiling as Kirra passed the bush down to her. "We should be able to finish well before dark then."

Halfway through the planting of the bush, Nylah lifted her head at the familiar sound of wing beats. "Is Alv coming back already?"

Kirra shaded her eyes with a hand as she stood up to peer off towards the distant lake. "Unless there's a second green dragon coming to visit our town, yes he is."

Nylah scowled, tapping the trowel against her hand. "I hope he's not hurt himself. He's not bleeding is he?"

Kirra shook her head. Red curls swished back and forth. "Not that I can tell."

Nylah rolled her eyes. "Then he's probably come to demand a bucket of jam or a barrel of wine. He can fly and walk again now, so he can damn well go to the market and fetch it himself."

Nylah went back to work while she waited for the dragon to make his appearance. It did not take long. The sound of his wing beats grew steadily louder until the wind cascading off the dragon's wingtips buffeted the women. Dead leaves and dirt swirled in the air as the dragon landed. Nylah squinted, shielding her eyes until the gusts died down.

Without looking back at the dragon, she waved her trowel in the air, then returned to filling in the hole around the freshly planted rose bush. "All these years, and you still haven't learned not to land right behind someone. Your wings cause awful gusts, you know."

Nylah smirked to herself, though when Alvaranox did not immediately tell her to get mounted, she tilted her head. Her smile faded a little. What had brought him back here?

"Hello, Alv," Kirra said cheerfully. "Forget something, have you? Nylah thinks you came for a bucket of jam and a barrel wine."

"That does sound good," the dragon replied. His voice sounded unusually soft, almost subdued. None of his usual smugness was there, and that was concerning.

Nylah set her trowel down, and eased to her feet. She wiped her hands on her black breeches, the dirt blended in better there than it did upon her shirt. She turned towards the dragon, and for a moment her hazel eyes met his copper ones. The dragon quickly turned his head away, but that single moment was all Nylah needed to see the pain in his eyes. His soul was as open and bare as she had ever seen it. The dragon's heart was a lonely hole that he could not fill. Nylah's face drew into pained lines. She took a deep breath, and held it for a time before letting it ease from her lungs. Alvaranox had always hated it when she caught him at a time of pain.

"I was thinking," the dragon said, making every effort to hide the emotion from his voice. Nylah wasn't sure if Kirra had noticed his sorrows or not. Beyond his eyes, the tells were small and well disguised and it had taken her years to realize them herself. Yet she knew well enough that some days, Alvaranox's barrel felt so utterly empty. "That in all the years I have known you two, I have never taken you to visit my island."

Ah. That was it. Nylah did not need the dragon to explain any further. He had gone to his solitary home and found the emptiness overwhelming. It had to be hard for the dragon. So many years had passed since any of them had seen one of his kind. All the walls he'd built to keep the loneliness at bay had come toppling down while he spent his convalescence with his only friends. The dragon simply hadn't realized it until he found himself alone, and could not take it anymore.

"I'd love to visit your island!" Kirra bounced on the balls of her feet. Nylah grinned at the younger woman a moment. Kirra didn't quite understand what Alvaranox was really asking.

I am lonely. My solitude has turned to emptiness. Would you come and fill the void a while? Would you share my secret place as my friend? Would you help me feel like more than some monster in a collar? More than some lonely fish swimming circles in a barrel. I don't want to be alone right now.

Nylah knew the dragon would never say it, but the words were written in his eyes. She sniffed once, struggling to keep her own emotions in check. She turned away and made a show of settling the empty clay pots near the wall of her house. She did not want Kirra to pick up on what was really going on. She caught Alvaranox glancing at her, and she gave him a little smile.

"I mean, if that's what you're asking," Kirra said, then gave a nervous laugh. "I don't mean to butt in and invite myself if you're only inviting Nylah. I know it's a personal place for you..."

"You are both invited," Alvaranox said, hints of hope mingled with wavering fear in his voice. Fear they would somehow reject him. The dragon quickly worked to cover his fears with a playful snarl directed at Kirra. "So long as you don't break anything or keep me awake all night with your prattling."

Kirra laughed. "All night? I thought you'd just fly us out there and back after giving us a tour..."

"If you do not wish to stay there, that is fine." Alvaranox tossed his head. "I am awfully tired after all, I should not want you to bother me when I am trying to sleep."

"Oh..." Kirra blinked, looking down at her feet. "I wouldn't want to bother you, either..."

Nylah pursed her lips. Perhaps she had best interject before Kirra inadvertently spoiled it for both of them. She turned around and grasped Kirra's hand, tugging her towards the dragon. She smiled at Alvaranox, her hazel eyes shining like loving beacons. "Kirra would be delighted to take you up on your offer, and spend a few days with you on your island."

Kirra blinked, her face flushing as Nylah led her about and put voice to her thoughts in the way of a wise old grandmother. "I would? I mean, of course I would, if Alv wants me."

"Perhaps it would be best," the dragon said, licking the golden spot at the end of his nose. "Medically speaking. I feel someone should be looking over me in case I am not as healed as I thought."

"You should always have someone to look over you, Alvaranox," Nylah said. Her grip tightened against Kirra's hand, and the younger woman gave her an odd look. Kirra's eyes widened as she began to catch onto the subtext, yet before she could blurt out anything she'd regret, Nylah continued. "I should love to accompany you myself but I'm afraid after working all day, my poor old back is about to give out. I'm stiff and sore from head to toe and after a nice hot bath I'm going to crawl right into bed."

Alvaranox stared at her intently, and Nylah met his gaze. Their stares were not defiant, simply understanding. To Nylah's own growing joy, the pain in the dragon's eyes eased just a little. Nylah was giving the dragon a chance to grow his friendship with Kirra, and giving Kirra a chance to be herself around the dragon again without feeling as though Nylah was judging her performance as handler.

Kirra looked back and forth between them a few times. If she truly understood what the two of them were thinking, she made the rare decision to keep her mouth shut. She eased her hand away from Nylah's grip, and smiled at Alvaranox. Then she reached out to scratch his golden blotch, and grinned at him.

"I'd love to spend some time with you on your island!"

"Good," the dragon said as casually as he could. "Who wouldn't want to spend time with a dragon after all." He grinned at the red-haired woman. "Perhaps in the morning we'll go trophy hunting at the ruins where I was ambushed. I want one of those bastard's helmets."

"Oh!" Kirra grinned so widely it looked as though her teeth were trying to jump out of her mouth. "I'd love that. I've never been to those old ruins you talk about." Then her smile twisted into a scowl. "As long as you don't expect me to take the helmet off some rancid corpse. That sounds disgusting, but I do want to see..."

Alvaranox wisely cut her off. "And when we get back, perhaps we'll go swimming like we talked about."

Kirra laughed and nodded. "I'd love too. Let me just go and get washed up and get my things collected, and then I'll be back and you can take me out there, or if you don't want to fly me I can get a boat and..."

Kirra kept talking even as she turned and dashed away, heading for her own house.

"I am regretting this already," Alvaranox said, lifting his spines a little.

"No you aren't," Nylah said as she moved forward to take the dragon's head into her arms, and hug it against her body. "I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for on your island, Alv. I truly am."

Alvaranox gave a little sigh, and Nylah felt him tremble. "I had...forgotten. Rain. Her scales are there. I miss her, Nylah." The dragon sniffed, and his green wings shook against his body. "I am sure she is gone. They may all be gone. I sometimes wonder if I will ever see another dragon again." For the first time Nylah could remember, Alv's voice broke. "I am so lonely sometimes, Nylah..."

"I know," was all Nylah said, pulling the dragon's head against her body. Never before had she actually heard Alvaranox admit it. For all the years they had secretly called each other friend, all the times she'd caught glimpses of the pain in his eyes, she had never once heard the dragon put words to his loneliness. Nylah eased herself down onto the ground, and Alvaranox slowly followed her till he was laying on his belly with his head in Nylah's lap. "I know Alv, and I am sorry. I wish there was more I could do for you."

"I know, Nylah." Alvaranox's voice was little more than a choked growl as he fought his tears. Even now, alone with his greatest friend, the dragon did not wish to give in to his pain.

Nylah leaned forward over the dragon's head to rest her face against his scales, stroking him gently. She whispered into the dragon's frilled ear. "Let it out, Alv. I won't tell anyone. Just let it out."

Alvaranox finally gave in. He knew Nylah would never tell anyone he broke down crying against her. She wouldn't even tell Kirra. The simple fact she cared so deeply was all it took to push him over the edge. Alvaranox began to weep, and the trickle of tears soon turned into a flood of wracking sobs. Nylah wondered if this was the first time the dragon had allowed himself to cry since he'd been collared.

Nylah held him tightly while the Guardian Slave sobbed.

As the dragon cried, Nylah cried with him. Her own tears ran hot and wet down the dragon's scales. She stroked his neck, and his frills, she tried to think of words to offer. Yet she knew the greatest comfort she could give the dragon was this. To simply hold him, to let him cry, to be there for him. To show him care and friendship and even love. To show him he wasn't...

"You're not alone, Alv," Nylah said, a sudden fierceness rising in her voice. A strength of conviction enough to overcome her own tears. "You are not alone."

Alvaranox slowly lifted his head from Nylah's tear-stained lap. The dragon's copper eyes were bleary and bloodshot, uncertainty swirled in them like fog above the moors. Nylah took his chin in her hands, and leaned forward to gently press her lips to the tip of his nose. "We may not be dragons, Alv, and I cannot tell you if you are the last because I do not know. But I do know that you are not alone, and you will never be alone. Kirra and I, we are your friends. We care for you, Alv, more deeply than I suspect either of us truly know. You know we would set you free if we could. Know this, as well. We are here for you, Alv. When you feel empty, and alone, when your heart can sink no deeper, seek us out. There is no shame in coming to a friend when you need comfort. Not even for a dragon."

Alvaranox sniffed a few times, then lifted a paw to wipe his nose and eyes. "Thank you, Nylah." The dragon's voice was hoarse, but strength was beginning to return to it.

"You are more welcome than you know, Alv." Nylah cupped the dragon's cheek in her hand, smiling at him. She ran her thumb back and forth over the pebbly scales.

Alvaranox leaned his head into Nylah's hand, sighing. He closed his eyes, murmuring. "Do you remember, years ago. Even before I met Rain. We'd both been drinking, and...we spoke of what may have happened, if we'd been born in different bodies."

Nylah tensed up, swallowing. Her heart sank low. Just as she'd recovered herself, Alv was bringing up another painful topic. Some things simply weren't meant to be. "I remember, Alv."

"If you were a dragon," Alvaranox said, not opening his eyes. His voice sounded distance, as though he were speaking thoughts he didn't intend for anyone to hear. "Or I were a man. I think I would have asked you to be my mate."

"I would have said yes." The words spilled from Nylah's tongue before she could bite them back.

Nylah's words brought a smile back to the dragon's muzzle. "I am heartened to hear it. It is nice to know that even in this barrel, someone cares about me."

"Kirra cares about you too," Nylah said, rubbing the dragon's head between his eyes. She scratched the sensitive area around the base of a ridged, black horn. She hated to risk ruining the moment, but they both knew they were on borrowed time. They could have this discussion at length some other day. "She is overjoyed that you have come to call her friend."

"Not as great a friend as you, Nylah," Alvaranox said, flicking his tongue over Nylah's hand when she rubbed his nose.

"Not yet," Nylah said. "But I think in time your friendship with her may be even greater than ours. She is fascinated by you, Alv, and you have clearly taken to her."

"Kirra is..." Alvaranox spent a moment grasping for words. "A kind soul. She has come to treat me like some friend in the pub with her, just as you did."

"Faster than I did," Nylah reminded him. "Alv, I am growing old." Nylah's voice softened when she felt the dragon tense up. He did not like to think about that. "Your life here will go on long after I have faded from this earth. You will be with Kirra at least as long as you were with me. Perhaps even longer. She became your Handler at a younger age than I. I meant what I said, Alv. You should always have someone to watch over you. There is a friendship growing between you two, and I want you to seize upon it while you have the chance. Some day, it will be Kirra you come to for comfort. You will have a friend in her for as long as she lives, Alv."

Alvaranox sighed, and slowly pulled his head back. "I should collect myself before she returns. I don't..." The dragon closed his eyes. "I'm not ready for her to know."

"I think she already knows, Alv," Nylah said, slowly rising to her feet. She rolled the sleeves of her blouse down and wiped her eyes with the clean sections. "You've seen her drawings. She knows your loneliness better than you think."

Alvaranox pushed himself up onto his haunches. He hung his wedge-shaped head, his spines drooping. "I still wouldn't want her to see me crying like that."

"I know, Alv." Nylah cupped the dragon's chin in her hand best she could. With her free arm, she gently began to dry the tears and streaks that marked his green muzzle. "And you didn't want me to see you crying, either, but I am glad you gave in. Sometimes even a dragon needs an emotional release. I can only hope I was some measure of comfort when you needed it most."

Alvaranox lifted his scarred paw, and gently clutched Nylah's smaller hand in his own. The dragon smiled at her. "You were, Nylah. You were."

---

Chapter Fifteen

---

Alvaranox had collected himself by the time Kirra returned. He sat upon his haunches with his black spined tail curled around his paws. The sun drooped lower and lower as though the sky itself were struggling to stay awake. The early evening light painted the dragon's copper eyes in shades of vibrant gold, hiding his emotions.

Kirra came around the side of Nylah's house, following the trail that Alvaranox's paws cut through the grass over the years. An odd, jangling clatter accompanied her return. She pushed weeping willow boughs out of her face, passing beneath the ancient tree. Kirra brushed her hand over the surface of one of the colorful murals Nylah was painting across the wall of her home. Alvaranox hoped the paint was dry or Kirra'd be in trouble.

"Ready!" Kirra announced as she came around the back of Nylah's home. By then Nylah was back to gardening as though she hadn't been comforting a sobbing dragon only minutes earlier. "You sure you don't want to go, Nylah?"

"Oh yes," Nylah said, smiling at Kirra. "I don't think my back would take it." She shook her trowel at the dragon, little bits of dirt flew from it. "But don't think I won't take you up on that offer in the future."

"You say that as though you expect me to offer it again," Alvaranox said. He thumped his tail against the grass, spines tearing up chunks of sod while Nylah glared at him.

Then he turned his attention to Kirra, cocking his head. Kirra now wore a green and black blouse, and some dark breeches with heavy boots as though she expected to go hiking through arduous terrain. She'd wrapped herself in a heavy, dark green cloak with black threading in the shape of leaves hemming it. She also carried a heavy pack, and whatever was in it was rattling whenever she moved.

Alvaranox snorted at her. "Why do you clatter so?"

"It's probably the pan I brought," Kirra said, glancing over her shoulder as though she could divine the pack's contents through the leather. "Or the flask. Or the mug. I've also got a sturdy lantern because I'm sure you haven't got any lights out there. Oh! You know what I forgot?"

"When to stop talking?" Alvaranox smirked at her.

"Very funny, Dragon." Kirra glared at him a moment. She marched over and prodded the dragon's sturdy chest plates with a finger. "A bedroll. Should I go and get one? I'm sure I've got one somewhere."

"No," Alvaranox said, pinning his ears back. "I should like to get there before morning."

"But the sun hasn't even set yet..."

"Which was the point, Kirra." The dragon licked his nose. "I have plenty of blankets and pillows and things at my island. You shouldn't need anything else. Now come." The dragon eased himself down onto his belly, flattening out his black-marked wings. "You may as well climb upon my back before I change my mind."

Kirra beamed as she walked around to the side of the dragon. "You're going to let me mount you?" It only took Kirra a moment to realize what she said, but the dragon was already laughing. "Oh shut up, lizard. Now how do I get up here?"

Alvaranox turned his head to watch her. "How should I know? I don't make a habit of letting people ride me. Nylah's done so a few times, and that's it."

Nylah pushed herself to her feet, dropped her trowel in the dirt and walked over to join Kirra. "It helps if you put your foot here, on his shoulder. And you can grab him here." She gestured to a few places, then cautioned Kirra. "But don't squeeze his wing joint too hard, that can be painful. And if he curls his head around to try and offer you assistance, don't grab him by his ear."

"Or my horn," the dragon said, snapping his jaws. "Don't grab anything related to my head at all."

Kirra nodded at the instruction. She tried to climb up the dragon's side, but her boots slipped against his scales and she fell onto her rump. She yelped and her pack clattered. Alvaranox shook his head as Kirra pushed herself back to her feet. Her second attempt was more successful as Nylah gave her a boost. Soon Kirra got her boot against the dragon's shoulder and her fingers against his wing joint. She hauled herself onto the dragon's back, settling near his shoulders.

Kirra wriggled herself as Alvaranox carefully pushed up to his paws. He glanced back at her. The feeling of the woman's warmth against his back was not unpleasant, and her weight was barely noticeable. She leaned forward when he started to move, nervousness flickering across her face, tightening her features.

"I'll walk around a few moments so you get used to the motion." Alvaranox took a few slow steps around Nylah's back garden to let Kirra grow accustomed to the rolling motions of a dragon's body. "When I fly, I'll do so as smoothly as I can. Try not to scream when I take off."

"Don't make her scream, Dragon," Nylah said, sounding exasperated by antics that hadn't even begun.

"I had no such intentions," Alvaranox said. Actually, he had every intention until he thought better of it. He strode around a little more until he could feel Kirra sitting with a bit of extra confidence against his back. "Think you're ready to fly?"

Fear and joy shone through Kirra's voice in equal measure. "No! So just take off before I lose my nerve."

Alvaranox dipped his black-horned head in a single nod. "Right. Lean forward for now and wrap your arms around my neck. Hold tight. I'll run a few steps and then leap into the sky. Nylah told me the ascent is rougher than the rest of the flight."

Alvaranox felt Kirra gulp as she leaned forward against the back of his neck, and wrapped her arms snug around him. The woman pressed herself so firmly against the dragon the contours of her body nearly matched his neck. Kirra felt soft and warm against him. He gave her a moment to prepare herself and then bound forward. After several bounding steps the dragon leapt, propelling himself as high into the air as he could off his powerful hind legs.

Kirra gave a little scream even before the dragon's first wing beat. She clamped her jaw to try and hold the rest of her squeals inside as the dragon began to pump his wings. The talons at their tips nearly met above her head and again beneath his belly. Wind swirled around her, buffeting her dark green cloak back and forth. Every beat of the dragon's wings pulled him further into the sky, and left Kirra's stomach further below them. Thankfully for the young woman's dinner, Alvaranox did not ascend very high. He soon stretched his wings out at his sides to ride the currents over Asterryl for a while, giving Kirra a chance to relax.

"You alright?" The dragon called back.

"Yes," Kirra said, though she sounded a little uncertain. "I think we have to go back for my stomach, though!"

Alvaranox laughed, flaring his central spines. "I think Nylah said the same thing the first time I took her flying."

"Have you taken her often?" Kirra called up to the dragon, not yet pulling herself away from his neck.

"Not as often as I should." Alvaranox glanced back. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm one slippery scale away from falling to my death." Kirra lifted her head from the dragon's neck to grin at him. "I think if I got used to this, though, I'd love it."

"Don't know how you humans live without wings."

"It's awfully windy up here!" Kirra leaned around the dragon's neck a little to try and peer up at his face. She squinted against the battering winds. "Doesn't it hurt your eyes?"

"I have flight membranes."

"You have what?" Kirra called over the rushing winds.

"Don't lean," Alvaranox warned her, glancing back again. "Flight membranes. They're like...a second set of eyelids, only they're clear. Normally they're retracted, but we flick them closed to protect our eyes from the wind when we fly."

Kirra sat back a little bit, taking the dragon's warning to heart. "I don't think we have that listed in your charts. That's amazing, though. You dragons are wonderful."

Alvaranox smiled as he flew. Kirra really was fascinated, wasn't she. "Yes. We are. Don't you like the feel of the wind against your body?"

"I'm not sure yet," Kirra called back. "It will take some getting used to. Going to be hell getting these knots out of my hair."

Perhaps the touch of the wind felt better against scales and membranes than it did skin and hair. Still, there were other aspects of flight Kirra could appreciate. "What do you think of the view?"

Kirra hadn't actually looked at the view yet. She was still trying to get used to the idea of actually being up in the air, on a dragon's back. Once she had mustered what little nerve she could she turned her head to peer past the dragon's wings. Even without leaning over, she had an excellent view of all of Asterryl and the lands beyond. Her breath caught in her throat. She never thought it would look so beautiful.

All the winding roads and ancient walls looked like some elaborate drawing scrawled upon the ground. The many banners and painted buildings and colorful signs looked like patches of brilliant wildflowers amidst a rocky meadow. Though it was not dark yet, people were already lighting street-side lanterns and lamps for the evening. After nightfall, the town must look like the sky painted with an array of manmade stars twinkling through the dark hours.

"It's beautiful!" Kirra called up to the dragon. "I never knew Asterryl looked so beautiful."

Alvaranox glanced back at her, his eye ridges raised and ears perked in curious confusion. She thought Asterryl was pretty? He thought it was a gray blight upon a radiant land. He supposed that was the difference between seeing the place as a home, and a prison. Still, he was glad Kirra appreciated the view.

"Wait till you see the moors tomorrow!"

Kirra smiled, stroking the scales of the dragon's neck. Now and then his muscles rolled beneath her as he pumped his wings. It reminded her a little of riding a horse, but the dragon's wing strokes were more fluid, and in a way, the motion against her body was more intimate than that.

From Asterryl, they were soon passing over the lake. Kirra stared out across waters awash in the golden fire of the setting sun. The whole lake glowed. For the first time in her life, she could see the edges of the far shore. Kirra found herself smiling as she turned her head, trying to see every inch of shoreline. From the ground the expanse of water seemed nearly infinite. Yet from the dragon's back, even at a low altitude, the lake suddenly seemed that much smaller.

Kirra's whole world suddenly seemed smaller. In minutes the dragon could probably fly the entire distance from Asterryl Kirra had traveled in her life. The collar often called him to fly further town than Kirra had ever ventured. She could hardly imagine the distances the dragon could travel and the things he could see were it not for the black collar that bound him to Asterryl. She scowled on the dragon's behalf.

Alvaranox's barrel never seemed so small.

"How far can you fly?" Kirra leaned forward against the dragon's neck again. She rested her cheek against his warm, green scales. Down below, fishing boats were easing into the docks for the night to unload the last of their catches. Fish would be taken to the evening market, and around to taverns and restaurants for the night's meals. "In a day, I mean."

"Never measured it," Alvaranox called back. "Dragons don't count distance the way you do. We count things in days of flight. If I told another dragon it was three days flight from here, they would instinctively know how far that was. Three days!" He laughed to himself, wishing there was another dragon around to share that joke. "But I don't know what that span would be the way you measure distance."

"Have you ever flown to another town?"

"No," Alvaranox said, stretching his wings to allow himself to glide. His island was in sight.

"Do you think you could? I mean, assuming there wasn't a threat. Do you think the collar would let you fly that far?"

"I've no idea," the dragon said, glancing back at her. "Sometimes if I get too far, it starts nudging me back towards Asterryl. But I don't know how far the nearest town is."

"We should try it!" Kirra smiled, rubbing the dragon's scales. "If I'm with you, the collar might let you fly further! It would be wonderful to get to visit another town. Maybe we'd even see another dragon!"

Alvaranox flattened his spines against his head. He made a show of looking at the far shore, not wanting Kirra to see his scowl. Somehow, if they were to see another dragon in another town, he doubted the circumstances would be pleasant. But no need to sully Kirra's mood. "We could certainly try it."

"Worst comes to worst, we'd just have to turn around part way there." Kirra was still smiling to herself. As they began to near his island, she spotted the far swampy shore. Her eyes were not as sharp as the dragon's and she could not make out the fine details. But she could tell the land there was forested rather than rocky. "Oh! That forest over there, on the shore. Is that the swamp?"

"Yes," Alvaranox said. "I've been there a few times."

"That's where the lizard boys live, right?"

Alvaranox burst out laughing at Kirra's choice of words. "I don't think they'd like you calling them the lizard boys, but yes, that's where the Va'chaak live."

"We should visit them! I've seen them in the market a few times, they're fascinating."

Alvaranox grinned. Seemed Kirra was fascinated by anything with scales. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. They have multiple tribes, and I don't know which ones are friendly and which are hostile. They can be quite territorial. Besides, you're female, so they might want to keep you for their harem!"

"What?" Kirra gasped, leaning back against the dragon's shoulder blades. "They do that? With human women?"

Alvaranox gave a loud, growling laugh. "I've no idea! But I thought it might get a reaction out of you. Now, hold tight again. My island is approaching, and I'm going to spiral around as I descend. It's a bit of a tricky landing inside the old courtyard."

"Why don't you land on that beach?"

"Because you're carrying too much extraneous shit!" Alvaranox laughed even if Kirra didn't seem to share his humor. "Might as well land where you can drop it off."

When Kirra was ready, Alvaranox began to spiral in for his landing. He kept his turns as gentle as possible, not wanting Kirra to feel like she was going to slide right off his back. After making a few descending circles around the island, the dragon swept in over the rocky shores and broken walls, extending his hind legs. He touched down on the crackled cobblestone that still covered much of the courtyard, then dropped his forepaws onto the ground and trotted a few steps before coming to a stop.

Alvaranox tossed his head, grinning back at Kirra. "You can get off me now."

"Says the bossy dragon," Kirra muttered. She stuck her tongue out at the dragon, and then swung her leg over his neck. She jumped down, landing in a crouch with a grunt. Then she pushed herself back up and dusted herself off. She turned towards the dragon, and gestured for him to lower his head. When he did so, she threw her arms around his neck in a warm hug. "Thank you!"

"For what?" The dragon said, snorting. He pulled his head back when she released him.

"I think you know," Kirra said, smiling. She rubbed his shoulder, and then slowly turned in a circle peering around the place. "So this is where you come to hide from the town."

All around them ancient stone walls rose and fell in broken lines. Crumbled limestone and mortar lay in little piles at the bottom of the walls. Much of the old gray stonework was covered in layers of yellow lichen, and carpets of verdant green moss. Entire sections of wall hid behind heavy blankets of vine and bramble. Beyond the manmade walls were natural ones, narrow spires of stone and cliffs that plunged into the lake below. The ground beneath their feet held lots of cobblestone, though it was long since cracked and broken. Thistles and other weeds grew up from crevices in the stone, small trees grew where they had reclaimed patches of earth.

The courtyard was larger than Kirra expected, it was a big island and she imagined if the place was intact they could have fit much of Asterryl's market inside it. A lot of men must have once lived on this island, guarding the lake and the lands beyond from invaders. Now the place was empty save for the dragon who occasionally called it home. The buildings that once stood in the courtyard were in various states of disrepair. Many of them had crumbled into broken walls like the lines of stone that marked much of the island. A shattered tower lay battered and collapsed in several sections across the ground. From the looks of things it had destroyed a few smaller buildings when it fell. The sturdier, squared structure that was once part of the fortress's central keep still looked mostly intact.

"What do you think happened to them?" Kirra asked, walking around the courtyard a little bit. She crouched down and overturned a long, flat stone. Insects scurried for cover when exposed to the light.

Alvaranox flicked his tail, smirking at her antics. "You're like a curious little child, Kirra. And I've no idea what happened to them."

"Perhaps a dragon came and tore this place apart," Kirra said, grinning as she stood back up. She spun on the balls of her feet, swirling her green cloak around her. Then she gave her best Alvaranox imitation. "And I've no idea what's wrong with being curious."

"I suppose not." The dragon lifted his crests, spreading them till the black splotches on the green membranes were visible. "I thought you might find this place interesting, to be honest."

"Oh, infinitely so!" Kirra smiled at the dragon, then spotted one of the green lizards the dragon often saw. It was climbing up a section of wall, heading to a hideaway for the night. "Oh, look at this lovely lizard! So green. Looks like he's covered in tiny little emeralds."

"What?" The dragon hissed through his teeth, flattening his spiny frills right back down. "And I'm not?"

"You're a different sort of green." Kirra turned back towards Alvaranox, trying to soothe the dragon's easily bruised ego. "You look like the forest. As though your whole body is covered with thousands of leaves, each a different shade of green."

Alvaranox smiled again. He liked the sound of that.

Kirra smirked at him. "Though with all those black spots, I'm afraid you may have leaf mold."

"Leaf mold?" The dragon growled, stomping a paw. "If that's the way you're going to talk to me, don't expect me to bring you back here."

Kirra only giggled. "Speaking of leaf mold." She nudged a thistle stalk laying on its side, wilting. "What's happened here?"

"I've been doing some gardening," the dragon said, tossing his head with a derisive snort. "Thistles. I hate the damn things."

"But it had such a pretty red flower on top." Kirra nudged it again, then spotted another thistle with a puffy, purple flower that the dragon had scythed down. "And this one had a beautiful purple flower."

"They are weeds," the dragon hissed through his teeth. "And they prick me."

Kirra put her hands on her hips a moment. "You big scaly baby. I'm going to cut those flowers off and put them in some water. You do have water here, don't you? Or do I need to go down to the lake?"

"I've water," the dragon muttered, wondering why she was bothering.

Kirra slung her pack to the ground, then crouched down and dug through it until she'd retrieved a small knife and a pair of gardening gloves. She pulled the gloves on then carefully gathered a few of the shredded thistle stalks and began to cut the spiny flowers from the top. After setting two of them aside, she poked her finger on the third. She yelped, pulled off her glove, and spent a moment sucking on the injured digit.

"You see?" Alvaranox flared his neck spines in distaste. "Now they've gotten you as well. They are bristly nettles with troublesome spines, and should be chopped down at the earliest possible moment. It is little wonder no one likes them."

"I like them," Kirra said, wiping her finger off on her pants. She cut the third flower from the stalk with a little more care. "I think they're beautiful. And weed is such an ugly term for a plant. It did not choose to be a thistle any more than you chose to be a dragon. It should not be chopped down simply for being what it is. You're bristly too, you know, and you're covered with spines. People call you a monster, but I don't think you're a monster at all. I don't think thistles are a weed, either. I think they're beautiful." Kirra let her words hang in the air a moment as she gathered up a few more of the flowers. "I think you're beautiful, too."

Alvaranox stared at her in stunned silence and awe. Somehow she'd just made up for every single time she stumbled over her own words, shoved her foot into her mouth till she was choking on her own knee. Her words cut the dragon to his beating heart, and laid bare his wounded soul. For all the years he longed for someone to see him as more than a monster, Kirra thought he was beautiful.

Without a word, Alvaranox began to pad around the courtyard, helping Kirra collect all the thistles he'd scythed with his tail. When he was done, he brought them over to her. Kirra smiled and rubbed his nose, but if she knew how deeply her words had touched the green dragon she did not let it show. When she had all the flowers cut and ready to be put in water, she smiled up at Alvaranox.

"So. Where can I find some water and something to put these in?"

"This way," Alvaranox said, padding towards the chambers he had long since made his own. He cast one last glance around the courtyard.

He would never cut down those thistles again.

Alvaranox fetched a large wooden bowl he used for drinking and slipped back outside. Around the corner of the courtyard he kept a wooden barrel to collect rainwater to drink. Thanks to the recent rains it was full. He dunked the bowl and then passed it to Kirra. She set it down near the entrance to the dragon's chambers and carefully arranged all the thistle flowers so that they were sticking out of the bowl at just about every possible angle. She smiled, and stood back up.

"There. Beautiful don't you think?"

Alvaranox peered at the bowl full of red, purple and blue thistle blooms. "Yes." He smiled at Kirra a moment. "Beautiful."

"I don't want the thistle stalks to spoil," Kirra said as she padded out across the courtyard. She began to carefully retrieve the downed plants, and sent the dragon for a second bowl of water. When he returned, she put the ends of the stalks in the water and leaned them up against the wall. "I can make use of them."

"What sort of use?" Alvaranox tilted his head, wincing when Kirra pricked her finger.

Kirra stuck her finger in her mouth and spoke around it. "All sorts. They make excellent medicine for a variety of ailments, they're excellent at helping to remove toxins from the body for example. They make lovely tea." She pulled her finger from her mouth and patted the dragon on the cheek. "Just think, if there had been poison on those arrows that stuck you we could have made you a big vat of thistle tea."

"Tea." The dragon tossed his head, scoffing. "Nothing like ruining perfectly good water with a bunch of moldy old leaves. Or thistles."

"It's delicious," Kirra said, giggling to herself. She drew her knife, and fetched one of the thistle stalks. With a few deft swipes of her blade, she'd cut away some of the spiny leaves and was soon stripping the heart of the thistle stalk bare. "You can eat thistles, too. it's a lot of work to get the barbs off the leaves, so I'll just demonstrate with the stalk. When they're young they're pretty good raw."

Alvaranox scrunched his muzzle. "You're not going to eat that."

"I am," Kirra said, grinning at him. After she removed the leaves and barbs with her knife, she began to strip the outer skin away from the stalk. Kirra held up a bit of the fibrous thistle skin. "You can use this outer husk for making rope, if you want. It's quite sturdy." Once the stalk was peeled, Kirra took a big bite out of it, still smiling at the dragon as she chewed it up. "It's good! Still tender while its fairly young. Almost a little sweet."

The dragon gave a growl of dismay. "I shall take your word for it."

"The seeds in the bulbs are excellent for your liver, too," Kirra said, laughing as the dragon's pebbly scaled face continued to distort. "But as most of these have already flowered, I'll have to show you that another time."

"You know a lot about thistles," the dragon said, flicking his tail against the stone block wall.

"I know a lot about plants in general," Kirra said, finishing off the thistle stalk, then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Though to be fair, I learned a lot of it from Nylah."

Alvaranox grinned at Kirra. She continued to surprise him. He turned and made his way into his sleeping chamber. "I should start calling you Thistle. Now, come along, Thistle. Have a drink with the big scaly baby."

"Drink?" Kirra scowled at him a moment. She turned to fetch her pack, calling back to the dragon as she crossed the courtyard. "Are you hiding booze out here?"

"Certainly not." Alvaranox lifted his spines. "I keep it out in the open."

"No wonder you couldn't wait to get back out here." Kirra shouldered her pack, and followed the dragon towards the old keep.

"I keep booze in my home in Asterryl too," Alvaranox said, flicking his tail against the stony doorframe. Little chips of rock fell to the ground. "You just wouldn't let me drink it while I was recovering."

Kirra paused at the entryway. No doubt it once held a set of immense double doors, secured with bars and sturdy locks. It would have been an impressive gateway to an equally impressive fortress. The doors were long gone now, but the fact they'd built it so large made it an excellent lair for a dragon. If it were all normal sized doors Alvaranox never could have fit inside the place.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" Kirra took a few more steps, then stared up at the ceiling. In the gathering darkness she could still see a few cracks in the vaulted stone arches above her.

Alvaranox merely snorted, padding deeper inside. "No. I'm not sure. But it hasn't fallen on me yet, and hopefully we can keep that tradition alive."

"Always so comforting," Kirra said as she followed the dragon.

In what may have once been the main hall of the fortress, the dragon made his home. In many ways it was not all that different from his home in Asterryl, starting with the immense pile of soft things that took up much of the floor. Shelves lined some of the walls, crates other areas. Through a large doorway Kirra saw barrels and casks. Kirra set her pack down near the entryway, looking around the place.

"You weren't kidding about having plenty of blankets." She smirked at Alvaranox. "I half expected your lair to be filled with treasure! But it looks like all you hoard is blankets and booze."

"It is not a hoard," the dragon said, kneading at one of the blankets with his forepaws before spreading out a bit. "It is a collection. Hoard makes me sound as though I have some kind of disorder." He sneered, pinning his ears back against his head. "Besides, it is a myth that dragons hoard treasure." He tossed his head, grinning. "The collar wouldn't let me spend my days searching it out, anyway. And Asterryl would be angry if I stole their treasure."

"That doesn't seem to have stopped you from stealing plenty of other things from town."

"And my enemies," the dragon said, gesturing towards a dented iron cuirass leaning against the wall. "I steal from them, too."

"So I see," Kirra said, snickering. Then she spotted something else of interest. "Oh! Is that a spear?"

"Yes," Alvaranox replied, settling onto his haunches upon the blanket he'd spread out. "A va'chaak spear. From one of the times the collar sent me to deal with them. Luckily for them, I didn't have to do any killing. I scared them off from some travelers they were chasing. When I blasted fire over their heads, one of them dropped his spear in his haste to escape. Thought I might as well add it to my collection."

"Silly lizard," Kirra said, grinning. "Can I pick it up?"

"As long as you don't plan to jab me with it, yes."

"What if I plan to whack you in the stones with the blunt end?" Kirra giggled at the scrunched up grimace that crossed the dragon's muzzle.

"Ordinarily I should threaten to drop you in the lake," Alvaranox said, grinning. "But given that my first day back to flying has left me quite worn out, I think I shall just take pre-emptive defensive measures." The dragon fetched a paddled purple cushion with a gold ruffle around the outer edge, and rested it between his hind legs. "There. Problem solved."

Kirra picked up the spear. It was as long as she was tall, and heavier than she expected. Long and sturdy, cut from a single piece of wood. The surface of it was smoothed down. The spear's point was not forged of iron like she'd expected, but rather carved from stone. She inspected the end of it a moment, it looked awfully sharp despite its primitive nature. The sharpened stone point at the end was lashed to the shaft of the spear with what looked like fibrous vines braided into sturdy rope. Several gray claws from some large predator hung from near the top of the spear as well, as did a single black feather.

"Quite ingenious, really." Kirra set the spear back down. "I suspect when they trade with us they like to pick up metal spearheads."

Kirra leaned the spear back up against the wall, and browsed through a few more of the dragon's trophies. The cuirass he indicated earlier was heavily dented. Kirra cringed at the sight of dried blood still coating the thing. "You took this off someone you killed, didn't you?"

"Some bandit, I think." Alvaranox scratched his neck with a single unsheathed black claw. "Little bastard tried to stab me in the throat."

"Seems like good armor for a bandit." Kirra flicked the cuirass with her nail, listening to the light clang.

"I'm sure whoever he stole it from thought the same thing."

"Have you got any good weapons?" Kirra turned towards the dragon, her hands upon her hips. "Other than that spear. After what happened a few weeks ago, I think I should learn to fight. Seems fitting if I learned with a sword that nearly shed your blood."

Alvaranox swallowed, rubbing at the ugly pink scar upon his belly. "With any luck, you can have the sword that nearly took my life."

"Oh!" Kirra's eyes widened, heat rushing to her ears. "I didn't mean..."

Alvaranox waved his paw. "Nonsense. I was going to look for that sword anyway. I'll add it to my collection, but you may borrow if you wish. Now." The dragon pushed himself to his feet, turning away. As his dark green tail swung towards Kirra she instinctively ducked, though he was careful not to clip her with it. "You continue enjoying my collection, and I'll get us some booze."

"Watch your tail," Kirra muttered to herself as the dragon squeezed his way through the doorway into the chamber that held his collection of drink.

Alvaranox peered around the room. It was a large antechamber that may have once served as waiting room, but now served as booze storage for a dragon. Casks of wine, ale and spirits were stacked high against the stone walls. Some of the casks had been there as long as Alvaranox had been coming here. Gray shelf fungus with red speckles grew on one old cask. Mushrooms with bluish caps upon tiny stalks sprouted around another. A trail of wet green slime ran down the corner of the room where a leak let in mysterious water. Alvaranox licked his nose. Perhaps he should stop bringing more drink here until he finished what he had. But what sort of collection would that be?

The dragon chose a barrel of red wine he'd lifted from one of his favorite taverns in Asterryl. He carefully eased it over onto its side, and rolled the iron-banded barrel back into his sleeping chamber. "Here we are," Alvaranox said, easing the barrel upright again. "You do like red wine, don't you Kirra?"

"I drank it with you last time, didn't I?" Kirra chuckled, then peered at the barrel, quirking her brow. "I hope you don't expect me to just cup my hands in there."

"No," the dragon said. "I expect you to dunk your muzzle in it like I do."

"First," Kirra said, wagging her finger at the dragon. "I haven't got a muzzle. Second, I'm not dunking my head into a barrel of wine. Third, I don't want to drink wine that's tainted with dragon slobber."

"Oh, very well." The dragon rose back to his paws and padded around his home, poking through some crates. "I'm sure I've got some mugs around here somewhere."

"Is there anything you haven't stolen from Asterryl?" Kirra snickered to herself, putting her hands on her hips. "I've brought my own mug, you know."

"An inferior vessel, no doubt." The green dragon smirked at her, copper eyes gleaming. "Besides, not all of this is from Asterryl. Some of it I've stolen from travelers in the moors."

Kirra gaped at Alvaranox. "You steal from travelers?"

"Not lately," the dragon said, flaring his spines a little. "Consider it a tribute to me. travelers from other towns don't always know I'm not allowed to hurt innocent people. I tell them I keep the road safe and that I expect them to give me first pick of their wares, or their goods. At least I used too. I haven't bothered in ages."

"That's terrible, Alv," Kirra said, though laughter soon overtook her. "You're such a brat."

"Makes me feel more like a dragon when I instill a little fear in someone." The dragon growled as if in demonstration.

"And here I thought you didn't like being treated like a monster."

Alvaranox snapped his jaws, pushing aside a crate that held plenty of plates and silverware, but no drinking vessels. Why he'd taken such a crate he could not recall. "I'm complicated."

"You certainly are," Kirra said. She looked over some of his shelves, spotting what looked like old scales. She held one up to the fading light seeping in through the entryway. In the twilight gloom it held a purple sheen that might have once been blue. "Are these what I think they are?"

Alvaranox glanced over, a wistful smile spread over his muzzle. "Yes. From my last mate. Dragon lovers often take a few scales from each other as a keepsake."

Kirra smiled. Sounded like what humans sometimes did with locks of hair. "So she has some of your scales too?"

"She does," Alvaranox said. The dragon turned his eyes towards the exit, watching the last daylight fade. "I used to call her Rain."

"Rain?" Kirra rubbed her thumb against the blue scale. It held a coarseness from years spent drying out on the dragon's shelf. "That's a pretty name for any female, dragon or otherwise."

"It was only a nickname, but it fit." Alvaranox sighed, turning his attention to finding that drinking vessel for Kirra. He did not want to talk about Rain right now. He pulled another crate forward, tossed away an old dress that lay across it, and then grinned. Mugs and glasses filled the wooden box. "Pewter, or wood?"

"Oh, pewter, certainly. Mine's only wood." Kirra said as she set the scale back down with the others. "Pewter will make me feel fancy."

"Pewter it is." Alvaranox was thankful Kirra didn't pry further. He pulled a large pewter goblet from the crate. "Catch."

The dragon tossed Kirra the vessel and she caught it with both hands. It was heavier than she expected, and ornate. Three silvery dragons held aloft the bowl-shaped goblet, their tails all twining together to form the handle. Kirra looked inside, and laughed to herself. "Gods, Alv, I think this would almost hold an entire bottle of wine."

"You say that as though it's a bad thing." The dragon padded over to where he'd left the barrel of wine. He unsheathed his claws, sunk them into the top of the barrel, and then pried it loose. He tossed the broken piece aside. "Come get your wine."

"I don't think that's how that's supposed to work," Kirra said, giggling to herself. She used her shirt to wipe dust from her goblet, then filled it from the wine barrel.

The dragon gave her a blank look, lifting a single frilled ear in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's a plugged hole on the side, and you stick a spigot there." Kirra pointed with her free hand. "See? That's the bung."

A smirk twisted at the side of the dragon's muzzle. "Is it then."

Kirra sipped the wine. It was rich and earthy, with hints of dark fruits running through it. Not as sweet as she'd expected. She liked it. "Yes, it is. That's what they call that. What are you smirking at?"

"I have heard that word used by your people before, but they were not talking about barrels."

Kirra rolled her eyes, giggling to herself. "You shouldn't be listening to what foul-mouthed children say." Then she amended herself. "Actually, children shouldn't be listening to foul-mouthed dragons."

"They were foul-mouthed adults, actually," Alvaranox said. He lowered his head, flaring his green nostrils as he savored the aromas of the wine. "And they were drunk as all hell."

"All the more reason not to listen to them." Kirra sipped her wine again. She smiled at the dragon, and then went back to look at a few more of his treasures. She ran her fingers over the well worn covers of a few old leather-bound books. As she examined some of his collection, she called back to him. "I hope you're not going to drink that whole barrel."

"Of course not," Alvaranox said, grinning. He thumped his spined tail against his bedding. "You've already got a goblet full, so I couldn't drink the whole barrel."

"Very funny, Dragon." Kirra picked up some kind of animal horn. Looked like the central horn from one of those mountain goats with three horns. Whatever it was, it looked very old. Perhaps a trophy the dragon took from one of his very first hunts as a youth. She ran her thumb over the dark brown ridges and then set it back down. "I mean it though, don't drink that whole thing."

"I won't," the dragon said. He dropped his head down, lapped at the rich red wine for long moments, then pulled his snout up. Red droplets clung to the dragon's pebbly green scales. He licked them away. "I don't want to be hung over when I go trophy hunting tomorrow morning."

"And I don't want you waking me up all night every time you have to go take a piss." Kirra smirked at the dragon, and took another drink of her own wine. Already she could feel the heat rising in her face, warmth blossoming in her belly. "So go easy on that stuff."

"Why would I wake you up?" The dragon tossed his head, rustling his black-mottled wings. "I told you weeks ago I'm not about to let you supervise my pissing."

"Alv, I've seen you when you wake up." Kirra waved her goblet in the air, wine sloshing inside it. "You groan, you mutter, you stumble about and bump into things. Even if you were trying to be quiet, you'd be so fixated on your silence you'd step on me."

"Crushed by a dragon," Alvaranox said, as if speaking Kirra's obituary. "There could be worse ways to go."

Kirra smiled, shaking her head. She set her goblet down on the shelf and untied her forest green cloak from around her shoulders. Then she walked over to the dragon, and held it up against his side for a moment. The colors nearly matched. Alv gave her an odd look, but went back to drinking his wine as she compared the color of the material to that of the dragon's scales.

"Your scales match my cloak," Kirra said, smiling. "They must match my eyes too, then."

"I knew there was a reason I liked your eyes," the dragon said, glancing back at her, his wedge-shaped head hovering over the barrel.

"You like my eyes?" Kirra's pulse quickened. That was always a compliment that made her heart flutter when she got it from a man she fancied. She'd never expected to hear it from the dragon, though. Or for it to have the same effect.

"I do," Alv said softly. Then he smirked at her and went back to his wine. "They match my own green magnificence."

Kirra snickered. She swatted the dragon's black-speckled haunch. "Brat."

Kirra folded her cloak a few times, and then deposited it near her pack. She crouched down next to her bag, digging through it again. Soon she pulled out her lantern. It was heavily mirrored to help increase the glow of the flame within. She set the iron-framed lantern down, and dug through her pack a little more. Then she scowled, leaning back onto her heels.

"Oh, damn."

Alvaranox gave an exaggerated sigh. He pinned his spines back against his head and neck in mock frustration. "What did you forget?"

"My fire starting kit. I don't even have a way to light my lantern."

The dragon rumbled in amusement. He stretched one of his wings and then furled it a little to point at himself with a wingtip talon. "I think I can handle the fire starting."

"I don't want my lantern melted," Kirra said, snickering. "Can you see in the dark?"

"Better than you."

"You needn't brag," Kirra said, walking over to gently rub the golden blotch at the end of his nose. "Alright Mister Night Sight, want to do me a favor?"

"Not particularly." Alvaranox folded his wing back against his side.

"Just go and fetch me a very thin, narrow stick? Then you can just light the end of it for me, and I can use that to light my lantern for the night."

Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let out the heaviest sigh he could. "Oh, very well. Don't drink all my wine while I'm away."

Kirra patted his scales in thanks, and settled herself onto his blanket while the dragon slunk out of his sleeping chamber into the darkening world beyond. Just as she was about to warn him not to knock over the bowl full of water and thistle flowers near the entrance, she heard a clatter, a splash, and a cursing dragon.

"Balls of the Earth Dragon!" Alvaranox yelled.

"Try not to knock over the thistle bowl," Kirra called after him, grinning in the darkness.

"I just did...Oh, very funny," Alvaranox said, growling when he realized Kirra heard the whole thing.

"So much for that night sight you were just bragging about."

"I wasn't looking at the damn ground."

"No, it sounded like you were looking at some other dragon's balls," Kirra said, bursting into giggles. She leaned back onto her hands, grinning to herself. "Get some more water and put those thistles back in, will you?"

"Of course, Slave Master." The dragon snarled from the entryway. A little while later the dragon returned, a very thin, dry stick clutched in his jaws. Just as Kirra reached up to take it from him, he spat the slobbery thing out onto her lap. "Here's your damn stick."

Kirra scrunched her face, wiping the stick off on the dragon's blankets. "Thank you, Alv. Did you put the..."

"Yes, I put the thistles back in water," Alvaranox said, dunking his muzzle into the wine barrel to get the taste of stick out of his mouth.

Kirra waited until he'd quenched his thirst before she offered him the stick. "Light this, will you?"

"You know, I come out here to get away from being told what to do all the time." Alvaranox glared at her a moment. His copper eyes shone in the darkness, picking up every hint of light.

"If that's the way you feel, you should have stayed here by yourself tonight." Kirra held the stick out for him.

Alvaranox licked his nose. "I suppose sometimes being bossed around is slightly preferable to unexpected loneliness." Then before Kirra had a chance to reply, Alvaranox blew the tiniest stream of fire he could. He squeezed his fire glands in a short, sharp burst. The line of flames that erupted from his muzzle were still enough to engulf half the stick in orange fire. "There," the dragon said, laughing as Kirra squealed in alarm. "Now light your damn lantern before you burn your fingers off."

"I said light the end of the stick! Not the whole damn thing!" With heat rolling over her hand, Kirra knelt down next to her lantern, frantically opening the access hatch. She shoved the burning stick inside for only a second, just enough to light the wick. She didn't want all the lamp oil to ignite at once. Somehow having a burning lantern explode in her face didn't sound like a very good end to the night. She yanked the stick back out and tossed it away, giving a sigh of relief. "That was close."

"Dragons don't do small flame-HEY!" Alvaranox yelped in alarm when the stick Kirra had haphazardly tossed away landed on the edge of one of his older quilts, woven of coarse, thick strands of blue and red yarn. As soon as the stick landed upon it, the quilt itself began to smolder, and soon flames were creeping across it. Alvaranox snatched up the other end of it in his teeth, dragging it away from the rest of his soft things. "Are you drunk already? You're going to burn my house down!"

"I'm sorry!" Kirra clapped her hands to her mouth. It seemed both horrifying and hilarious. "I wasn't even paying attention."

"Obviously," the dragon said, gesturing at the fire. "Now stomp this out before I have to upend the wine barrel."

"Of course," Kirra said, leaping to her feet. It didn't really occur to her or the dragon that she might light her pants on fire if she wasn't careful. Thankfully for her, she didn't. The flames were still fairly contained, and a few good stomps quelled them under her boot. Then for good measure she fetched another of the dragon's mugs, filled it with water from his barrel outside, and poured it over the smoldering ruins of his quilt. "There. That should take care of it."

"And you wondered why I didn't have any light fixtures in here."

Kirra grinned sheepishly at the dragon. "I'm sorry about that." Then her expression fell a little as she nudged at the burnt rug with the toe of her boot.

Alvaranox glared at her a moment, but as Kirra's face contorted with guilt, the dragon's own pebbly scales visage softened. "Oh, it's alright." He reached out and wrapped a foreleg around her, pulling her up against his chest plates in a hug. "I didn't really like that quilt anyway. Besides, this gives me something to tell Nylah about."

Kirra was quick to return the dragon's hug. "I'd never hear the end of it!"

"Well, you keep your mouth shut about the Bluestrand's more embarrassingly arousing side effects, and I shall keep my mouth shut about your attempted arson of my collection."

"Deal," Kirra said, giggling. She leaned her head against the dragon's chest for a moment, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. "Your heart is so steady lately." She pulled her head back and smiled up at the dragon, rubbing his plates. "Let's try and keep it that way."

"I certainly plan to." Alvaranox smiled back down at her.

"Good," Kirra said. She patted his cheek, then went to fetch her lantern. She closed up the hatch, and picked it up by the handle to carry it over to the dragon's trophy shelves. As innocently as she could, she asked, "So who's the earth dragon and why are you talking about his balls?"

Alvaranox blinked, snorting. "Shouldn't have said that in the human language. But I'm so used to speaking it, it's almost all that ever slips from my tongue anymore. And the earth dragon is..." Alv worked his tongue over his muzzle, trying to find the right words. "Well, he isn't real. He's..."

"Some sort of dragon God?" Kirra looked over her shoulder, red curls swishing.

"Not exactly," Alvaranox said, swiveling his ears back and forth as he sought the proper explanation. It was like trying to explain a dream. It made perfect sense in the dragon's mind, but the more he thought about it the more ephemeral the concept became. "A deity, in a way. Like a nature spirit. Very old dragon beliefs hold that each of the four major elements was embodied in powerful semi deity-like dragon. Two male, two female. The earth dragon is the embodiment of earth, and a male. Supposedly he and the fire dragon, the other male, plowed the water dragon and wind dragon, both female, and the resulting eggs were first the creation of our world, and then, the first dragon hatchlings."

Kirra couldn't help giggling to herself at the way the dragon put things. "Plowed them, hmm? You have such an eloquent way of re-telling your people's legends."

Alvaranox snorted, flexing his wings in a shrug. "It's all a load of balls, anyway."

"Your mouth gets dirtier, and dirtier."

Alvaranox chuckled to himself, rising his central spines. "No it doesn't. You just hear me talk more often. Anyway. Don't ask why because I don't know, but the phrase Balls of the Earth Dragon has always been an old angry exclamation. Seemed appropriate when I stepped on one of those thistle flowers."

"You didn't hurt your paw, did you?" Kirra looked down at the dragon's paws, glancing back and forth between them.

"They're fine, but thank you for asking." Alvaranox licked his nose, and went back to drinking from his barrel of wine.

Kirra fetched her own goblet. She took a long drink, and then with the lantern shedding orange light across the rows of shelves and stolen book cases, she perused more of the dragon's collection. She spotted coins from some far away land, minted with images of kings and castles she'd never seen. She knew of no inhabited castles, only ruins. The coins must be quite old or from somewhere very far away.

Then Kirra spotted another little pile of dragon scales. She reached out and picked one up. In the lamplight it held a fiery orange shade with flickering copper markings. She turned herself, shielding the scale from the lamp. Free of direct light the scale was actually a green color, not quite as dark as Alv. Hints of gold flickered along its edges. For a moment she thought perhaps it was another of Alvaranox's lovers.

Then she realized why the colors seemed so familiar. She slowly turned towards the dragon, and held the scale up. "Alv, is this..."

Alvaranox watched her, quiet. "Yes. We don't take scales only from mates and lovers. We also take them from those we loved. Those are from my mother."

"They're beautiful," Kirra said, her voice reverent. She felt as though she were treading the edge of very sacred ground for the dragon, and she did not wish to overstep her bounds. "Have you had them a long time?"

"Yes, Kirra," Alvaranox said, a bittersweet chuckle slipping between sharp teeth. He knit his eye ridges together. In the lamplight his eyes shone orange and wet, haunted by pain and loss the dragon could not address. "A very long time."

"You lost her, didn't you." Kirra's voice was barely a whisper yet it hung in the air like the tolling of a bell.

"I don't remember," the dragon said. He sighed, and slowly lowered himself down onto his blankets. "Sometimes I think the collar won't let me."

Kirra set the scales down, and walked to the dragon's side. As Kirra settled down alongside his neck, Alvaranox closed his eyes. He pictured his mother in his mind. Green, like him, darkest along her back and paler along her belly. Golden stripes on her limbs, golden blotches on her haunches and wings. He remembered her clearly from his days as a hatchling. But when he tried to picture her later in life, the image grew fuzzy, as though he were watching her in the distance through bleary eyes.

"My memories of my mother are a meadow in fog," Alvaranox said, not opening his eyes. "I can still picture her, but only from my earliest days." Anger began to tint the dragon's voice. "The older I get, the more my memories of her are shrouded in fog. The harder I try to remember her, the thicker that mist gets. She wanders from me by the day. Till she is little more than a green silhouette in the murk. Sometimes I fear if this continues I will no longer remember my mother, but the mother of some other dragon."

Kirra grit her jaw, her chest tightening. Her heart ached in sympathy for the dragon. "Could you remember her more clearly before you were injured? Before I..." She licked her lips, worried she has somehow changed the equation without ever even knowing the numbers. "Before I made the collar save you?"

Alvaranox's voice was like a lost sailor, drifting further from shore on dark waters. "I don't remember."

Kirra leaned over the dragon's neck to wrap her arms around him best she could. She hugged the dragon tightly, pressing her face to the broad scales that protected his neck. She gently stroked him, whispering. "It's alright, Alv. I'll get you through this. I won't let you forget her."

Alvaranox smiled to himself. It was nice to know she cared, even if he feared she could not back up her pledge. "Thank you, Kirra."

"I mean it, Alv," Kirra's voice rose, strong and hot. The fire in her heart could have forged steel. "One way or another, I will make this right."

---

Chapter Sixteen

---

By the time the rising sun first painted the earth in burnt shades of gold, Alvaranox and Kirra were already in the sky.

Comforted by Kirra's presence and her determination to somehow make things right, Alvaranox's slumber had been peaceful. Kirra wrapped herself in a blanket and slept alongside the dragon after he promised to try not to roll over and crush her in his sleep. A blushing bruise was spreading across the inky eastern horizon by the time the dragon was out hunting breakfast. When he returned he found Kirra was awake and waiting on the dragon to light her cooking fire. Once the two of them had filled their bellies, it was time to go collect some trophies. With Kirra's help, Alvaranox secured a heavy burlap bag around his neck before taking to the skies. At least Kirra managed to avoid screaming during the ascent this time.

Alvaranox took Kirra on a lazy tour of the northwest shore of the Lake Of Teeth. Kirra had never seen trees so large or ground so sodden and wet. The dragon flew fairly low to give her a good look. Though the swampy area where the Va'chaak dwelled took up only a small portion of the lake's overall shoreline, it still accounted for a large area of land. Wide, shallow rivers drained through that area. Where they could see past the sprawling canopies of cypress, tangled masses of knotted roots stretched across the water-logged ground. Stands of willow and cedar, and a dozen other kinds of trees the dragon could not identify stretched all across the land. Now and then movement caught their attention. Scales of olive green, pale gray and earthen brown occasionally flickered into view then vanished again.

"Are those Va'chaak?" Kirra lifted her voice over the rushing wind.

"Probably," Alvaranox called back. "There are other creatures with scales in the world besides dragon and Va'chaak, but the Va'chaak are good at hiding in their swamp."

"Can I get a better look at one?"

"You can get a better look at dozens!" Alvaranox smirked back at her, flaring his spines.

The dragon dipped a wing and carefully spun around in the air. With Kirra on his back he was extra cautious with his turns, dives and ascents. He did not want to do anything that might cause her to lose her balance. With slow, careful flight, the wind was less a teasing lover and more a comforting friend. The wind stroked his wings, soothed his body, and buoyed his spirit whenever he rode her currents.

Alvaranox flew Kirra to a small Va'chaak village. Their village was simple, clusters of small huts made from bricks of mud and clay, straw reeds and moss, baked around fires. The roofs were often composed of layers of intricately woven reed mats. Homes further into the forest used massive tree trunks for a wall, or boughs for the frames of roofs. Several large pits of coals smoldered day and night, used for cooking.

As the dragon swept over the lizard village, chattering cries arose from the alarmed villagers. Kirra leaned over the dragon's side as he circled the village, wanting a glimpse of them before they all vanished into their homes. There were quite a few lizards running around, varying in color from drab olive and dark green tones to muddy browns and hints of black and gray. Some of them quickly ran into huts or under the trees, while others ran to fetch spears like the one in Alv's lair. Best Kirra could tell, it seemed both male and female served in protective warrior roles. The creatures did not seem to wear much clothing aside from simple loincloths, though a variety of colored paints and dyes marked the scales of the warriors. Little spines and horns marked their heads and clustered at the ends of some of their tails. A group of stubby-tailed children ran around splashing in the mud, and pointing up at the dragon circling overhead.

"Oh, look at the little kids!" Kirra giggled. "They're so cute!"

"Yes, they are," the dragon said, then beat his wings swiftly, speeding away from the village. "Time to go!"

"Why?" Kirra asked, craning her neck to watch the village disappear into the horizon.

"Because, my knowledge of the Va'chaak tongue is as rusty as their knowledge of yours," Alvaranox said, licking his nose. "And with all those hatchlings running around, they're going to be awfully protective. I'm afraid I'd accidentally tell them I've come to devour their children again."

"That wouldn't be...wait, again?" Kirra gasped, and burst out laughing. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, some years ago," the dragon said. He spoke under his breath, though the wind carried the words to Kirra's ears. "I had to scare some of them away from some travelers. Later, I went to their village to try and make peace. They had hatchlings running around so I tried to say their hatchlings look adorable."

"And?"

"And the Va'chaak word for adorable sounds very similar to the Va'chaak word for delicious." The dragon laughed, his shoulders rolling beneath Kirra's rump as he flew. "They did not appreciate the humor."

"I can't imagine why not." Kirra giggled, leaning forward to stroke the dragon's neck. "So where to now?"

"To the moors! And the wilds. To the ruins to claim my trophies."

Alvaranox flew beyond the edges of the Lake Of Teeth, and across the sprawling sections of land where the wild moors had been transformed into seemingly endless acres of farmland. As they flew, Kirra leaned back and forth, peering down at the ground. She'd grown bolder as she got used to the feeling of flight. Not so bold that Alvaranox was afraid she was going to slip and fall, but he did glance back at her often just to make sure.

"How far outside Asterryl have you been?"

Kirra laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not even sure I've been this far. I can't tell from up here. I've been to a few of the tiny villages where some of the farmers live, and a couple markets and taverns out there looking for rare herbs and plants, but that's it."

"Well then," Alvaranox said, grinning back at her. "Welcome to the world, Kirra."

"Thank you!" Kirra beamed at the dragon. She stretched herself to stroke the crest that ran down the top of his neck.

"Careful," Alvaranox said, keeping his flight as even as he could while she stretched up against his neck. "As nice as that feels, you shouldn't be getting so upright. I cannot see incoming turbulence, you know."

Kirra eased back down against Alvaranox's back, patting his shoulder. "Right, right, sorry."

As they flew on, Alvaranox pointed things out. Kirra's simple joy at seeing new parts of the world from such a height was infectious. The dragon could not help smiling. Alv hadn't realized how much knowledge he'd pick up in his years serving Asterryl. He pointed out a series of farms where much of Asterryl's milk shipments came from, and another set of farms that raised cattle and oxen for meat. He pointed out the tavern set at an intersection of lanes that always seemed to have the most people. Perhaps they could stop there for drinks sometime. He showed her the quarries where so much of the stone used in Asterryl's walls and sturdier buildings had come from. A few wagons filled with stone pulled by massive horned beasts of burden were trudging up the road from one of the quarries, bound for Asterryl.

Before long they were past any signs of habitation aside from the old roads that cut through the rugged moors. At first Kirra seemed awed by the quiet, wild peace of it all. As far as Alvaranox could see, there was almost nothing but green and gray in every shade he could imagine. The dragon could see occasional oceans of colors, rolling seas of blue, red and purple wildflowers waving in the breeze. Bramble with fiery leaves and dark berries crawled across some of the hills, climbed over broken boulders. But the further out he gazed, the more those bright colors faded into the horizon of rugged green hills and gray stone ridges. The homes and villages outside Asterryl gave way to ruins long abandoned.

Kirra fell into silence. Alvaranox glanced back at her now and then. She looked puzzled. "Isn't it beautiful out here, Kirra?"

"It was," Kirra replied, her voice a little distance. She glanced up at the dragon, shielding her emerald eyes from the wind. "But now..." She trailed off, sweeping her gaze across the wilds lands. "It's just...I didn't know it was so desolate out here."

"Yes," the dragon said, flicking his tongue over his nose. "There are a lot of ruins, aren't there."

Kirra huddled closer against the dragon's neck. She wrapped her arms around him again, and lay her cheek against his forest green scales. Alvaranox was surprised that the sight of so many ruins seemed to have disturbed her. He had not meant to upset the woman, he thought the moors would be beautiful to her. Alvaranox wondered if the lack of civilization frightened her. He had grown up in the wild and the ruins, this was home to him. To Kirra, while this land was beautiful it also held decay and failure the likes of which she had never truly known.

"Your people stretched themselves too thin, I think," the dragon said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "You spread, and grew and wandered. You thought yourselves conquerors of all of nature. Your failures lay all around us, but despair not, Kirra. We both live amidst a shining example of your success. Asterryl is..."

"The boundary," Kirra said. "The line in the sand. I've heard it called that many times, but I never knew they meant it so literally."

"Yes," the dragon said, glancing back at her a moment. "Your people decided they had yielded enough ground to the wild, and would let nature take no more from them." He waved his paw in the air, gesturing at the burnt out ruins of a little village near a streambed. Sometimes the stream was dry, but muddy puddles lingered there thanks to the last rainfall. "This is what they say they need me for. To protect your town from the monsters and the beasts, the bandits and the raiders who helped bring these villages to their end."

Kirra scrunched her face, sighing against the dragon's neck. "It isn't right, though. Especially now. Surely we are big enough to protect ourselves at this point."

"If not, you're awfully close. Though I don't think the collar is one to listen to logic."

Kirra eased up to peer at the dragon. "So this is where you lived? Where you grew up?"

Alvaranox grinned at her. She sounded dubious. "Yes. Well, not this land exactly, but out here in the wilds."

"How did you survive?" She narrowed her eyes, concern and confusion swirling in her emerald gaze. "How did you find enough food, and water?"

The simplistic questions made Alvaranox laugh. "Oh, Kirra. You ask the oddest things sometimes. Dragons are excellent hunters. If there was only one animal in all the wilds my mother would have found it. And believe it or not, just because one streambed is dry in the summer does not mean they all are. We can smell water from a great distance."

Kirra smiled at Alvaranox, and lay her head back against his scales. "I guess you'd have to. It does have its own sort of...empty beauty."

"It does," the dragon said, gazing out over the expanse of the moors. Now that Kirra mentioned it, it did seem a little desolate. The ruins scattered here and there seemed lonelier than he recalled. The wind that rustled the grasses and heathers and scattered trees sounded as though it were moaning in despair. Alvaranox shook his head, hissing playfully. "Gods, Kirra. You're turning me soft."

Kirra giggled. "I'll be sure and tell Nylah you admitted it."

"Oh, very funny." The dragon grinned a moment, then gestured with his horned head towards a hill in the distance crowned by a familiar, half broken fortress. Slashes of red heather stretched across another hill beyond. "That's our destination."

"That's where you were attacked?" Kirra's voice tightened.

"Yes. With any luck the corpses will still be there and I can claim a few trophies."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"All manner of scavengers might have found them. Anything from wild beasts tearing them apart to nomads taking the armor and weapons to sell them." The dragon banked towards the ruined town and its crumbling fortress. "There's a nice, sturdy bridge over the gorge here, so its fairly well traveled."

"I do seem to recall hearing something about the guards having to go protect a group of engineers while they maintained some far flung bridge once a year or so." Kirra sat up straighter on the dragons back. "What if there are more dangerous people here?"

"The collar would have warned me," Alvaranox assured her. Still, the idea made him feel as though he'd swallowed a mouthful of snow. It sat cold and frozen in his belly, melting into trickles of ice. Surely there was no one dangerous here now. The collar might have its malfunctions but it wouldn't let him fly Kirra right into an ambush, would it? "Just let me know if you see anything suspicious, just in case."

"You mean aside from the ruined town filled with corpses mangled by a dragon?" Kirra grinned as Alvaranox began to descend.

"Yes, Kirra, aside from that."

Alvaranox swept towards the road in the midst of the ruin. The last time he'd been here, the damn bell filled his head. That was the first time the collar itself buzzed around his neck, rattling his scales. It seemed an eternity ago, and yet it was scarcely months. Kirra wrapped her arms around his neck to brace for landing, and Alvaranox soon trotted to a stop upon the old, broken road. He turned his head and stretched his neck a little to nuzzle at Kirra before she hopped down.

"This is where it started," the dragon said. The sound of bowstrings popping and arrows whizzing through the air filled his memories. Alvaranox cringed, his wings twitching. "I landed here, walked into the town with the collar screaming around my neck. A few arrows hit me, a few more missed me."

Kirra scowled, and stroked the scutes along the dragon's foreleg. "Are you sure you want to be here, Alv?"

"Of course," Alvaranox snapped his jaws. "I won the battle, didn't I? Thanks to you and Nylah, I even survived it. Why wouldn't I want to be here? Dead men cannot harm me."

The look in Kirra's eyes and the twisting of her face told the dragon she did not believe him. But neither did she press him about it. She patted his shoulder and began to wander around a little bit. Alvaranox followed her down the road. Before long Kirra was peeking through ruined windows and doorways, or nudging over crumbling piles of stone with her boot.

"Now, now, Kirra," Alvaranox said, grinning. "You might be disturbing some poor lizard's home."

Kirra snickered at him. "I don't think that's too likely." She put her hands on her hips, peering around the ruined town. "I wonder how long ago people lived here? This place looks as though it's been dead for ages."

"Probably since before my lifetime," the dragon said, padding up the road a little bit. "I'm sure it was around before Asterryl, but it's hard to say." Then he spotted Kirra walking towards a ruined home showing more recent signs of smoke and char. "Ah, you might not want to look in that one."

"Why not?" Kirra asked, though rather than take the dragon's advice, she leaned against the wall and peered inside. Then she gasped, and turned away, the color draining from her face. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Because I burned a man to death in there. I shall take your reaction to indicate his corpse has not wandered off."

Kirra shook her head, her red curls bouncing back and forth.

"Are you alright?" The dragon padded closer to her. He flicked his tail, and lowered his head to gently nuzzle at her face.

Kirra lifted a hand to rub at the golden blotch at the end of the dragon's nose. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I'm fine, Alv. Just...didn't expect to see that. And...I hadn't noticed it out here so much, but...when I put my head through the window, the smell..."

"Probably lingers more in the building," the dragon said. He licked her fingers, then smiled. "I'm going to head up to the fortress. You can look around on your own, if you want."

Kirra quickly shook her head again. "No, I'll go with you."

Alvaranox smiled, and dipped his horned head in a single nod. The sight of one dead body amidst a ruin was enough to put her ill at ease, and he doubted she wanted to wander the place alone. Whatever curiosity she'd held was now outweighed by trepidation. Alvaranox padded up the old lane he'd followed on his first trip here. He opened a black-marked wing and wrapped it around Kirra, sheltering her beneath it. "There are no ghosts here, Kirra. And the men who died...well, I had little choice."

Alvaranox walked on with his wing draped over his friend. He felt Kirra's fingers brush the puffy pink scar on his belly. The flesh was still quite sensitive, and the feeling made him shiver. His scales clicked together and Kirra pulled her hand back.

"They got what they deserved." Kirra's voice drifted from under his wing, lilting and faint as though haunted by the very ghosts he'd just denied.

As they ventured towards the battered fortress overlooking the village, Alvaranox walked her through the battle. "I ran up this way, trying to avoid getting hit with any more arrows. They were still firing a few of them at me, here and there. I think those were just the rogues they'd hired." Alvaranox turned and walked past the ruined smithy where he'd toppled a wall onto a man. Then he turned down the path that led by a still-standing wall, where he'd found the broken horse statue.

"Ah! And here is where I got clever. A man was firing at me from that arrow slit up there." He pointed with his paw. The arrow slit was cracked and broken, stained with soot from the fires the dragon had belched inside. Though he hadn't burned the man, something inside had certainly caught fire. At the time he hadn't thought much of that, though now the dragon wondered what was in that room to burn. Perhaps that was where the men had set up their camp. "I threw a horse head at him."

"You threw a what?" Kirra stepped out from under his wing, staring up at the fortress walls in shock.

"Not a real horse head," the dragon explained, lifting his spines in amusement. "A statue. You can still see broken bits of it at the base of the wall up there."

"Oh," Kirra said, giving a sigh of relief. "I was going to say, that poor horse! Then I was going to ask where the hell you got a horse out here."

Alvaranox laughed, lowering his head to nuzzle Kirra. "You amuse me sometimes, Kirra."

"I'm glad I can entertain you," Kirra murmured. She nudged at a tuft of overgrown grass with her boot, stroking the dragon's neck. Her fingers brushed the collar, and the dragon's vision flickered. The grass she nudged was dead and dry, crumbling to dust beneath her boot. "So desolate."

Another blink and everything was normal again. Alvaranox hissed to himself. "Stupid collar."

"What's it doing now?" Kirra stroked the dragon's neck, running her fingers over the collar. This time nothing unusual happened.

"The same as it often does lately," the dragon said. "Gives me flashes of nightmares, dead worlds, crumbling cities."

Kirra scowled. "It never did that before, did it?"

"No," the dragon said, shaking his head. "Not like this. But its gone now, so let's not dwell upon it."

"Let me see it." Kirra pressed her hands to the collar. She half-expected to feel the dragon's anger rolling through her, but nothing came. "I don't feel anything..."

Alvaranox pulled his head away, grumbling. "Cut that out. Your voice echoes when you do that. And you know I don't want you messing with it outside of emergencies."

Kirra scowled at the dragon as he padded up the lane towards the outer wall of the fortress. Alvaranox did not look back at her. He did not want to see the worry in her eyes. Though it eased the dragon's burden to know someone cared for him, it also made him ache to know that brought her worry. He did not wish to discuss it with Kirra and if he met her gaze now he knew she would press him on it. So he walked on until the sound of Kirra's boot falls against the grass and broken cobblestone caught up to him. He lifted his wing and Kirra moved back under it again. Silent, she stroked the scales over his ribs.

Alvaranox smiled.

At the base of the outer fortress wall, the dragon came to a stop. Bits of broken granite lay mixed with crumbled mortar. The dragon picked up a chunk of stone, a horse's eye clearly carved across it. He held it out to Kirra in his paw, grinning. "See? I told you."

Kirra peered at the stone horse eyeball, her face twisting. "That's creepy, Alv."

"Why?" Alvaranox tilted his head, waving the eye back and forth in front of Kirra's face. "Does it feel like its watching you?"

"Cut it out," Kirra giggled, swatting the broken stone from the dragon's grasp.

Alvaranox just chuckled. He looked around, trying to figure out how to get into the fortress courtyard. "I'm not sure where the entrance is. Have to find an old gate or a broken spot in the wall."

"You don't remember how you got in there last time?"

"I flew," the dragon said, grinning. He craned his long neck to point his snout at the battered and scorched arrow slit. Soot and smoke stained the area around the shattered granite. "I perched on the edge of the wall there, blasted flame into that room, and then flew into the courtyard. But the men were in there, so there must still be another way in."

Alvaranox padded around the side of the fortress until they found a way in. The primary gatehouse had collapsed in on itself, a pile of stone rubble and a twisted, rusty portcullis barred their entry. But further around was an area where the outer wall had caved inward. All they had to do was clamber over broken stone, and a few bushes that had long since sprung up between them. They ended up at the side of the courtyard where Alvaranox had fought the last of the men.

Kirra pressed herself against the dragon's side when she spotted the bodies laying in the ruins. Sunlight glinted off battered silvery armor where it wasn't tarnished by the rust-colored stains of dried blood. Inside the courtyard, the sickly sweet smell of decomposition wafted around each time the wind stirred the still air.

Alvaranox glanced at the woman huddled under his black and green wing. "Looks like they're still here."

"Are you really going to...take things from them?" Kirra scrunched her face.

"I haven't come all this way to bury them." Alvaranox snorted.

"Do you...think we should?" Kirra swallowed, brushing her fingers over the sensitive membranes of Alvaranox's wing. Her voice wavered a little. "Bury them, I mean."

"No." Alvaranox growled in his throat, dragging his claws through a patch of earth. "These men tried to murder me. Let them rot." The dragon turned his wedge shaped head, licking his nose. "I'm a little surprised the scavengers haven't torn them apart."

"I doubt there are many scavengers out here, Alv." Kirra stuck to the dragon's side as he padded towards the nearest corpse.

"I suppose you're right." The dragon tilted his head back, searching the sky for any circling vultures. "Not exactly a place they'd be used to looking for food. But you'd think the scent would have attracted them. Still. Easier for me that everything is still intact."

"Alv, how are you going to get..."

Alvaranox answered her question before she'd finished asking it by grasping the man's helmet in his paw, and wrenching it sharply to the side. Something snapped, and when the dragon gave a firm tug, the helmet came away from the man's body. So too did its contents. Alvaranox peered into the helmet. The man's half-rotted head seemed stuck inside. Alvaranox shook the helmet, trying to dislodge it.

Kirra gagged. "Alv! That's disgusting."

"What?" The dragon grinned back at her, perking his ears and lifting his central spines. "Consider it a bonus."

"No! It's...Gods, Alv, put that down." Kirra put her hand to her mouth, closing her eyes. "You're going to make me wretch."

"But I want the helmet..." Alv sounded like a hatchling having his new favorite toy taken away before he'd even had a chance to play with it.

"Put it down!" Kirra pointed at the ground, stomping a foot. "Now."

Alvaranox snorted, dropping the helmet and head. "I never get to keep anything."

The helmet rolled across the ground a few paces till it came to rest at Kirra's feet. The visor pointed up at her, though a smear of dried, rotten flesh across it kept her from getting a good look at the man's shriveled face. Kirra screamed and kicked the helmet away from her. It flew across the courtyard, bounced off a stone wall with a clatter and then rolled a few paces till it lodged up against a section of toppled battlements sticking out of some long grass.

"That was quite a good kick," Alvaranox said, laughing.

Kirra jabbed her finger into the golden blotch at the end of the dragons nose. "I'll give your head a good kick if you pull that trick again!"

"What?" The dragon jerked his head back as though her finger were knife piercing his nose. "I didn't roll it over to you on purpose. I just dropped it."

"A likely story." Kirra shuddered, rubbing her arms. "First that horse eye, now that decapitated head. Gods, that thing was looking at me."

"The horse was made of stone, and that head was from a dead person." Alvaranox licked his golden marking, and flicked his tail against the ground. His spines clattered against stone. "Neither of them were looking at you. And I still want to get a helmet."

"Alright, alright." Kirra muttered. She looked around a little until she spotted another body laying at the base of a wall. From the crumpled look of his armor and the blood dried across his visor and breast plate, it looked as though the dragon had crushed that one to death. But the helmet seemed intact. "Let me try. Just...I'm going to close my eyes, so..."

Alvaranox lifted his ears, curious to see how she was going to pull this off. Kirra padded over to the dead body, and knelt down alongside it. She took a deep breath, and set her hands on either side of the helmet. Then she closed her eyes, and began to ease the helmet upwards. She twisted it back and forth a little, applying extra force when it got stuck. Gradually the helmet moved, and when it came free it did so with an audible pop. Kirra whimpered, her stomach heaving. Beneath the helmet the man's skin looked half-dried to his skull already, some of his teeth bared in an eternal grimace.

"It's free, right?" Kirra rose to her feet with her eyes still closed. "I don't want to see his face. And that smell is going to make me vomit..."

"Yes, Kirra, it's free. Bring me that helmet, will you?"

Kirra didn't open her eyes till she turned away from the man's remains. Then, holding the helmet at arm's length, she returned to the dragon and offered him his trophy. "Here. You had better be planning to scrub this thing clean as soon as you get home."

"Was hoping you'd do it, actually." Alvaranox grinned at her, lowering his head so Kirra could deposit the helmet in the bag around his neck. He smirked at her and gave a playful purr, tapping the plates of his chest with an unsheathed claw. "But perhaps you'd rather scrub my armor instead."

Kirra glared at him as she dropped the helmet into the bag. "So I can either scrub some armor that smells like rancid death, or an old helmet."

"I do not smell rancid." Alvaranox waited till she turned around before he sniffed at himself to be sure. Good. He was right. "Come. You wanted that sword, right?"

"One of us wanted it," Kirra said, chuckling. "Where is it?"

"It's around..." Alvaranox turned towards the wall. There had been a man there. Alvaranox chased him. He ran around the corner, and...Oh. Gods. Alvaranox suddenly flopped onto his haunches, the memory of agony like he'd never imagined filled his brain. His belly throbbed and he pressed his paw to his scar. He did not want to go back around that corner. "It's over there..."

"Alv!" Kirra whirled around and took the dragon's head in her hands. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"It's just...I remembered..." The dragon trailed off, his breath coming in quick, fearful pants. The dragon's massive heart accelerated till blood was throbbing in all his minor heart chambers and pulsing through his folded wings. "Gods, Kirra. It hurt! It hurt so much. More than I'd ever known pain could hurt. I knew he hit something vital...I was...Gods, I was scared." Alvaranox looked around the place, his copper eyes wild and unfocused for a moment. He half expected dragonslayers to start crawling out of all the little nooks and crannies, coming to finish him off. "I don't know if I got them all..."

"It doesn't matter, Alv," Kirra pulled his head against her body best she could. The dragon gently nuzzled at her, green scales brushing green fabric. "They're gone. Even if you didn't kill them all, they're obviously long gone by now. You're safe now, it's alright."

Alvaranox whimpered something incomprehensible. Kirra stroked his muzzle, and then reached a hand back to gently caress his ear. She slipped her other hand under his jaw, trying to coax a purr from the dragon. While he did not purr, he did relax a little bit. At Kirra's urging, the dragon took a few slow, deep breaths and held them as long as he could. Gradually his racing heart began to ease its frantic pounding and the pain in his belly began to fade.

"Let me go and get that sword for you, Alv." Kirra rubbed his nose, and when the dragon pulled his head back, she stepped away. "It's around that corner?"

Alvaranox did not want to make her get anything else from the corpses, but he was in no condition to argue. His wings trembled against his sides, and the bitter taste of fire bile coated his tongue. The irrational fear that flooded him left his body prepared to fight. Adrenaline coursed through the dragon. He hissed, turned his head and spat a little flame into the air to burn off the excess fire bile he was producing. The heat of the swirling orange flames washed over Alv and Kirra. Kirra held a hand up to shield her face but did not complain.

Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let it out slow. He unfurled a wing to point with a talon towards the corner that lead into the former hallway he'd been ambushed in. "Around there, yes. I chased one man around that corner, and another was hiding in an alcove. As I passed him, he..."

"I know, Alv," Kirra said, not wanting the dragon to have to continue. She smiled at him and stroked his cheek. "I'll go get your sword, alright? It...It's going to have your blood on it."

"I know." Alvaranox lowered his head and licked her cheek before she could shove his face away. Her skin glistened as she laughed and wiped it with her sleeve. "Thank you, Kirra."

Kirra smiled at him, and jogged off towards the wall. She vanished around it, and Alvaranox peered around the ruins as he awaited her return. As he stared around the broken fortress, silence descended over the courtyard. Alvaranox considered calling out to Kirra, but he had made enough of a fool of himself. The last thing he wanted to do now was make it seem as though he was suddenly afraid of the silence. What was there to fear? All the men here were dead and Alvaranox did not believe in spirits or ghosts.

All around him, rocks began to move. The dragon tensed, his copper eyes widening. His spines flared in alarm. Broken pieces of stone rolled up shattered walls like spiders climbing their webs. Crumbled mortar reassembled itself along ruined parapets. Alvaranox began to pant again. Everywhere he looked invisible spirits were piecing the fortress back together.

"No," the dragon groaned. He lifted a paw and pressed it to the base of one of his ridged black horns. He squeezed his eyes shut. "No!"

Alvaranox opened his eyes again. Walls rose around him. Bits and pieces of cobblestone floated through the air, dropping back into their original places all across the plaza that once lay inside the courtyard. Walls stretched and grew across burnt out framework like scar tissue across a wound. A rotten door was once more whole, occupying a doorframe that was no longer broken and bent. Twisted shards of rusted metal fit themselves back together into lampposts and gateways.

"No!" Alvaranox grabbed at the collar, trying to pull it free. As always, it shifted and twisted against his neck but would not come loose. He closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth. "NO!"

Voices drifted to him. The dragon opened his eyes again. The fortress was whole, and vibrant and filled with people. Stained glass covered the windows of a third story that moments ago had not been there. It sparkled, reflecting cascades of color across the ground below. Men in leather armor with bronze studs wielding hefty spears strode across walkways that had not existed for centuries. Wooden poles anchored to the plaza by iron spikes held aloft a snow-white tarp, casting pleasant shade across him. Women in flowing dresses of light blue approached the dragon, smiling and laughing.

"Hello, Guardian," one of them said. She offered him a tray covered with succulent cuts of meat.

The foreleg that reached for the tray was dark blue, with hints of purple edging the scales. It looked slender, more so than Alvaranox's leg. The scutes along the front of it were smaller than those of a male. Another woman offered the dragon some sweet fruitcakes. A man in a simple blue tunic and black breeches approached. He held a bucket with some kind of oil in it. He dipped a cloth in it and began to oil the dragon's scales. Looking back, there were no spines upon the long, blue tail.

Before Alvaranox could truly comprehend what he was seeing, he blinked and with it the world changed again. He stood in another part of the fortress plaza. Men in ebony cloaks edged in red were busy digging a hole. Some of the local soldiers watched. Another blink, and the men were filling in the hole. A heavy flagstone was placed atop it, then more dirt and cobblestone.

Alvaranox took a breath, and the world flickered in shades of orange. The fortress was under attack, and the city beyond it was burning. All around him people screamed in pain and fear. Smoke choked the skies and burned the dragon's nostrils. A furious roar shook his scales, rattled his skull. He recognized the roar as female, and in that moment, it was his own. The Guardian Slave was fighting back but it was too late. Whatever had brought this fortress to ruin had been too much for the female who bore the collar. Anger and loss and crushing heartbreak rolled through him. That female...had she cared for that city and its people? In their greatest moment of need, it seemed she could not protect them.

"Alv!" A familiar voice cut through the visions. "ALV!" The dragon's head shook as Kirra grasped his horn and jerked him back and forth till she brought him back to reality. "ALVARANOX!"

Alvaranox cried out in alarm as the world coalesced around him in an instant. Gray, broken walls, battered corpses. A burning sun in a blue sky. The only scents were of death and desolation. And Kirra. Alvaranox focused on her scent, turning his head to look at her. He reached out with a trembling paw and grasped her shoulder. She was real. This was real. The rest was just...a dream. A vision.

A memory.

"Alv, are you alright?" Kirra gently took his muzzle in her hands. Fear trembled in her emerald eyes.

Alvaranox stared back at her, his own eyes still wide and only half focused. He thought for a moment about what he'd seen. There were men there, in cloaks like those who tried to kill him. This place had a dragon, too. They seemed to treat her differently. Not that it made any difference in the end. If those were memories, then she had failed. Why were those men...Alvaranox shuddered. He did not want to think about it.

"I want to go home, Kirra." Alvaranox pressed his muzzle to her with a sigh. A blood-stained sword lay beyond her. He did not want it anymore. With a whimper that turned into a snarl, he tore the burlap bag from around his neck and tossed it aside. "I just want to go home."

---

Chapter Seventeen

---

Late afternoon sun painted the island gold when Alvaranox and Kirra returned. Alv left the sword and helmet behind. They reminded him more of death than victory. The sword was too heavy for Kirra. Alvaranox decided to let it rot in the sun along with the bodies of his attempted slayers. The dragon did not want to talk to Kirra about his latest vision but nor he did not want to leave her worrying. Alvaranox told her he saw memories from another Guardian Slave who could not protect her home.

As Alvaranox flew back towards Asterryl, questions whirled in his mind like dead leaves spinning in the wind. Why was he seeing these things now? Why did he see Asterryl burning? Was the collar trying to warn him what would happen if he failed? He did not want to be Asterryl's slave, yet he held no real desire to see the place burned or its people slaughtered.

That dragon in his vision. She seemed so heartbroken. She must have cared for those people. It seemed as though they'd treated her better than Asterryl treated him. Why were the men in the black and red cloaks there? Were they not dragon slayers?

"Alv," Kirra said, loudly enough to draw the dragon from his thoughts. "We should go for a swim."

Alvaranox blinked a few times. He looked back at Kirra as he glided over the waters of the Lake Of Teeth. The water reflected the golden sunlight, and the dragon's eyes reflected the glowing waters. "What?"

"You heard me, you silly beast," Kirra said, laughing. She stroked his neck with her hand. "I know you're upset, and I want to cheer you up. You told me one of the first things you wanted to do when you were healed was go for a swim. If I recall correctly, you even invited me to swim with you. Why don't we go swimming now, while its still so nice and warm? It'll take your mind off things for a while."

Alvaranox turned his gaze back towards the horizon, smiling. Of all the things Kirra rightfully had to worry about if something was going wrong with the collar, what most concerned her? Alvaranox's mood. Knowing Kirra was more worried about the dragon himself than the town he protected was enough to lift Alvaranox's spirits.

"Yes," the dragon said, angling his wings as he began to descend. "Let's go swimming."

Alvaranox swept in low over his island, swooping over the forested section. Leaves rustled and boughs swayed in the downdrafts from the dragon's wings. The forest was not large, but it was beautiful. Rounded stones worn smooth by time and the elements littered the forest floor, often draped in blankets of emerald moss. Patches of dead leaves stirred beneath the dragon's wings. Trees grew wherever roots found purchase between rocks. The oldest trees' twisted, barky roots grew over the top of rocks, seeking the distant earth. Oak trees held sway in the little forest, but a collection of towering pines and a scattering of narrow, white-trunked poplars suggested that some of the trees were planted by the island's former residents.

Alvaranox descended just past the forest to land in the expanse of sandy shoreline. His wings blew sand around, and his paws kicked up more of it as he touched down and trotted a few steps. Once he'd come to a stop, Kirra swung her leg over him and hopped down onto the shore. She patted his side, smiling up at him.

"You alright, Alv?"

Alvaranox looked back at Kirra, nodding. "I am, yes." He nuzzled her, then smiled. "Thank you, though."

"Of course." Kirra rubbed the scales protecting his ribs for a moment. Her smile faded, replaced by earnest conviction burning in her emerald eyes. "You're my friend, Alv. I care about you. When things trouble you, I want to help. Now. Enough solemn talk. Let's swim!"

When Kirra moved out of the way, Alvaranox folded his wings and turned towards the waters. Waves gently lapped at the beach. Further into the water, a few small white caps rolled across the horizon. The scent of water floated on the breeze. Alvaranox smiled. Already the lake was relaxing him a little.

The dragon watched Kirra for a moment. "Be careful of the far end of the beach. That's where the dock was. I ripped it out ages ago, but I don't want you to injure yourself on any leftover mornings or broken anchor poles."

"Thank you," Kirra called back. She took off her dark green cloak, and folded it up. Then she walked up the shore to where the moss-covered stones and forest gave way to smaller pebbles and sand. "I'm going to leave my clothes up here so they don't get wet, or sandy."

"Alright, Kirra," Alvaranox said, drawing little sigils in the sand with a claw. They were old runes he remembered from his childhood. His mother used to teach him how to scribe them with his claws. He sighed, and slapped the sand with his paw, dashing the runes. "The water's not going to be too cold for you, is it?"

"Not unless the water on your island is a lot colder than the water on Asterryl's shore."

That seemed unlikely. The water was cold but on a hot day like this it was refreshing rather than frigid. Alvaranox glanced over at Kirra. She was removing her clothes. He hadn't considered the fact she might swim nude while he was around.

Kirra sat on a mossy stone, and pulled off her boots. She took her socks off, and stuffed them into the boots. Then she stood back up, paying little attention to the dragon watching her. Either she hadn't noticed Alvaranox was watching, or she didn't care. The fact she turned her back to him as she continued to strip made it a little harder for the dragon to tell. She unbuttoned the long sleeve blouse she wore, exposing fair skin as she pulled it off. Though the sun's kiss had darkened her face and arms in the weeks she spent in the sun with Alvaranox, it had not done the same to the rest of her body. She folded her shirt and set it atop her cloak, then began to unbutton her breeches.

"Are you going to swim naked?" The dragon asked before he could stop himself.

Kirra froze. She jerked her head around to stare at the dragon with wide green eyes, red curls swaying. "I was going to, unless you have a complaint?"

"Certainly not," the dragon said, lifting his spines. "You do not mind me seeing you that way?"

"Not as long as you don't spend the whole time staring at me like some dirty old pervert," Kirra said, laughing. She finished unbuttoning her black breeches and tugged them down, revealing the plump curves of her bare rump.

"I'm not old," the dragon said, smirking. Perhaps this was a good chance to embarrass Kirra. "Does that mean its alright to stare?"

Kirra giggled to herself as she wriggled out of her breeches. "Please yourself," she said, bending over to pull her breeches over her feet. "Wait, that's not what I meant!"

The dragon's eyes widened. She looked as though she was presenting herself. He caught a glimpse of red hair where he had not anticipated it. Intriguing. Alvaranox swallowed hard, glancing away. Heat rushed through the dragon's body. His ears, frills and nose all flushed purple. The dragon felt himself tingle and swell, and he hissed under his breath. Maybe he'd better just get in the water.

"You win this round," Alvaranox muttered, sloshing out into the lake. The water was cold around his paws but not unpleasant. He waded through it quickly, seeking the calming coldness of the deeper water. When the cold waters reached his underbelly, the dragon shivered, scales clicking.

Kirra soon waded out to join him. The dragon glanced back at her, this time catching a glimpse of the soft roundness of her breasts, and the flash of red hair between her thighs. Her body looked quite soft under all her clothes, her skin smooth. She looked a little rounder in the middle than he would have realized with her clothing on. Though he wanted to look away, he found his eyes lingering. Kirra saw him looking, and her own face flushed scarlet as she waded out until the water was covering her.

"Sorry," the dragon murmured, licking his nose.

"Don't be," Kirra said, the water sloshing around neck. "I'd look if I was you. Besides, you've probably not seem many humans naked before, after all. Other than when you tossed Nylah in that hay pile."

The memory made Alvaranox laugh. "I have seen them a few times." He grinned down at Kirra a moment, then cocked his head. "May I ask a question about your body?"

Kirra dunked herself under the water. She was gone a moment, then came back up, shaking her wet hair back and forth. Soggy red curls plastered themselves against her. "Only if I get to ask one about yours."

"Deal," the dragon said, looking down at her through the water. "Why does it have hair?"

"Why does..." Kirra looked down through the water as well, and then burst out laughing. "I've no idea, Alv! It just does."

"Why is yours red? Nylah's is not red there."

Kirra laughed again, blush deepening. "Because I have red hair, and Nylah doesn't. Our hair is the same color...well, wherever we have it." She lifted a hand from the water and shook a dripping finger at him. Cold droplets splattered the dragon's nose. "Now stop looking at me like that before I slap that gold spot off your nose."

"I shall try," Alvaranox said, taking a few steps back. "Ask your question."

"Do you ever feel naked?" Kirra waved her hand at them. "Or self conscious? I mean, your bits are just...out there. I didn't feel self conscious about swimming in the nude around you because you're a dragon, and you're always nude. At least, I didn't until you decided to point it out."

"I do not understand the question."

Kirra folded her arms over her breasts, beneath the water. "Remember that day you woke up...you know. And your spear was..."

"That was the bluestrand," the dragon said, snapping his jaws. "I could not help it! Sometimes that herb has that effect. You know that."

"You sure were embarrassed!"

"Yes," the dragon said, snorting. "I was. But I see what you're asking. No. Normally we're not embarrassed to be naked. Not the way you are. Our bodies simply are the way they are. But it is different for a male when he is..."

Alvaranox trailed off, and Kirra smirked at him. "Aroused?"

"Yes."

Kirra's smirk grew into giggles. "So that's why you rushed into the water while I was taking my clothes off. To hide your spear! You dirty lizard."

"I did not," Alvaranox said, hissing. Then he glanced away, flattening his still-purple hued ears back against his skull. "...Maybe a little."

"I should have known!" Kirra said, laughing. "I knew you were staring at my rump the other day when we took your stitches out!"

"It's not as though there are any other females for me to stare at," Alvaranox muttered.

Kirra went quiet a moment. She hadn't meant to bring up painful memories for the dragon. She was just having fun teasing him, and she thought he was having fun, too. "I didn't mean..."

That was as far as she got before Alvaranox leapt forward, and slapped both his front paws against the surface of the water. An immense wave crashed over Kirra's face, and sent her stumbling backwards. She slipped beneath the surface and came up a few moments later. Over the sounds of her own coughing and sputtering, she heard the dragon laughing at her.

"Oh! You brat!" Kirra laughed along with the dragon, realizing she'd been had. "I am going to get you for that!"

"Good luck with that, woman!" Alvaranox backed away again, grinning at her. For a moment, he really had lamented the fact he hadn't seen a female dragon for ages. But Kirra asked him to go swimming to lighten his mood, not darken it. And Alvaranox would be damned if he was going to let a little slip of the tongue ruin the rest of his afternoon.

Kirra sloshed through the water towards the dragon, slapping at the surface with her hands. Cascades of spray splattered Alvaranox's face. When some of the cold droplets got him in the eyes, he yelped and turned his head away. "Truce! Truce!" The dragon laughed, rubbed his eyes, and then turned back towards Kirra only to find that the woman had vanished. "Kirra?"

For a moment, Alvaranox peered around for her. Kirra erupted from the water, wet red hair flying in all directions. She hoisted her hands up over her head, and before the dragon had a chance to react, she hurled a double handful of mud scooped up from the lake bottom at him. The foul-smelling muck splattered just between the dragon's ridged black horns. It speckled his green scales with brown and dripped into his copper eyes.

"Aaarrggggg! I'm blind!" Alvaranox stumbled back and forth in the water, sending waves rolling across the surface of the lake. "No fair using mud!"

"No fair being ten times my size," Kirra said through her laughter. "That's for dunking me!"

"I did not dunk you," Alvaranox said, hissing. He thrust his head beneath the water, shaking it back and forth to clear the mud. Alv jerked his head up from the water, the spray of droplets thrown from his muzzle caught the sun and shone in a scintillating rainbow. "Now I'm going to dunk you!"

Alvaranox charged towards Kirra. Kirra shrieked and backpedaled away from the beast. As he lunged at her, intent on pushing her under the surface, Kirra slipped to the side, just out of his grasp. Kirra laughed and rolled over onto her belly on the surface, quickly swimming away from the baffled dragon. He wasn't quite sure how she was doing that, as he'd never actually watched a human swim before. He always thought when humans said they were swimming, he just meant they were wading and flopping about in the water.

Kirra's feet tore at the surface, sending spray in all directions. Her hands knifed through the water as she propelled herself across the lake. Every few moments she tilted her head to take another breath. Alvaranox watched her for a while, fascinated. When she began to circle back towards him, he waded closer to join her.

"You're quite good at that," the dragon said, raising his eyes ridges. "I am impressed."

"Thank you," Kirra said, breathing a little harder as she came to a stop. She began to tread water in front of the dragon. "I learned to swim when I was a girl. Always enjoyed it! I can swim on my back, too, and a few other ways."

"I did not know that." He grinned at her, licking droplets form his nose. "I don't think Nylah can swim half as well as you."

Kirra grinned, poking the dragon on the nose. "Alright, your turn. Let's see you swim now. Do you use your wings?"

"No," Alvaranox said, shaking his head. "I use my paws, and my tail. I keep my wings folded tightly. The membranes provide too much resistance against the water. It is harder to move them around underwater than it is in the air."

Alvaranox took a breath, and launched himself off the lake bottom. He dug at the water with his paws. The dragon quickly swam away from Kirra, his wings folded tightly as the cold water washed across him. He scooped at the water with his front paws, pushed it with his back paws, and the tucked all four limbs up against his belly. Then the dragon wriggled himself a little, working his long tail back and forth against the water like an oversized paddle.

Kirra called out somewhere behind him. "You look like an giant scaly dog crossed with a snake!"

"That is an insult to both dogs, and snakes!" Alvaranox called back to Kirra, grinning to himself. Then he realized he'd gotten that backwards. "Wait! Turn that around!"

"Too late!" Kirra said, laughing.

Alvaranox pushed his paws out again, treading water over a deeper section of the lake. The water was cold but the warm sunshine against his back and wings balanced it out. Soon, Kirra swam out upon her back to join him. To Alvaranox her backstroke looked both graceful and chaotic, all flailing limbs and spraying water and elegant motion. Kirra's wet skin shone in the sunlight, the water splashing around her flickered like fragments of broken crystal.

Alvaranox wasn't sure it was appropriate, but part of him thought Kirra looked beautiful in the water and sunshine.

When Kirra came up to the dragon, she came to a stop for only a moment before she swam around behind him. Alvaranox glanced back at her, wary of some kind of sneak attack. "What do you think you're doing?"

Kirra answered his question by wrapping her hands around his tail spines. She beamed at him. "Pull me through the water!"

"What do you think I am, a festival ride?" Alvaranox flared one of his wings, slapping it against the lake's surface with a resounding clap.

"No, if you were a festival ride I'd have to pay." Kirra laughed, tugging the dragon's spines back and forth. "Now pull me!"

"Oh very well," Alvaranox said, trying and failing to sound exasperated. "Hold on tightly, then!"

The dragon began to swim forward. He paddled at the water with his paws, gradually picking up his pace. His tail swept behind him a little, swishing Kirra through the water. As he swam faster, Kirra gave a little squeal of glee. She held fast to his tail spines as Alvaranox swam all around the island. Kirra laughed and cried out in delight the entire time. The more Kirra laughed, the more Alvaranox found himself smiling. The dragon glanced back at her a few times. Water sprayed up around her body and she didn't mind in the least when it splashed into her face. Red curls trailed through the water around her head.

Alvaranox swam and swam until his legs and back were burning. "Alright," The dragon called back to her. "I need a break." The dragon eased to a stop, and grinned at Kirra as she released his tail. "Now, you pull me."

Kirra laughed at that, swatting playfully at his haunch. "I would if I could, Alv."

Alvaranox flicked his wing, sending droplets splattering Kirra. "I'm going to head back towards the island so I can catch my breath without treading water."

The dragon began to paddle back towards the beach. Before he could stop her, Kirra grabbed at his tail again, laughing. "No sense in both of us swimming!"

"Brat," Alvaranox called back, grinning.

Alvaranox pulled Kirra into the shallows around the island. She released his tail, and Alvaranox flopped down into the water, his belly resting upon the muddy bottom. Water sloshed up against his sides. As soon as he was settled down Kirra tried to climb up onto his back. The dragon's wet scales were slick, and with a squeal Kirra slipped right back down into the water. Her little scream vanished beneath the surface. When she reemerged she was coughing and sputtering again.

"What do you think you're doing?" The dragon cocked his head. He perked a single ear and lifted his spines.

"As long as you're going to laze around, I was going to do the same." Kirra looked the dragon over, planning her ascent. "I was going to lay in the sun on your back."

"Isn't that what the shoreline is for?"

"The shore's all sandy. I don't want sand...well, anywhere."

Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. "Oh, very well. Wet as I am, your easiest climb is likely my tail."

"Thanks, Alv," Kirra said, swimming around to the dragon's tail again.

This time Kirra was much more careful in her attempts to climb up the wet dragon's scaly body. She straddled his tail, and then climbed up to his haunches. From there she wriggled on her belly until she'd reached the point of his back just between his wing joints. Then she stretched herself out, laying against the dragon's scales. Kirra gave a happy sigh, enjoying the feeling of the dragon's warmth against one side of her body, the sunshine against the other.

"You feel nice and warm, Alv," Kirra said, sounding a little drowsy.

"So do you," Alvaranox replied, feeling conflicted.

The dragon wasn't sure how scales felt against skin, but skin felt lovely against scales. Warm and soft in ways he tried to forget. He missed the touch and scent of females. He'd probably never see another dragon again. But he saw Kirra. He grit his teeth, trying to force the thoughts from his head before he ended up buried in the mud. Still. Kirra was his friend. If not for Nylah, Kirra would have been his best friend by now. As it was, that was a gap that seemed narrower by the day.

"Kirra..."

"Yes, Alv?" Kirra lifted her head from the dragon's scales. She looked as drowsy as she sounded.

"Do you have a lover?"

"What?" Kirra blinked, taken aback by the question. Nervousness flickered in her eyes, and brought a hint of scarlet back to cheeks that had only recently turned to their normal hue. "Not at the moment. Not that it's any of your business."

"I was only curious." Alvaranox lowered his head till the water brushed his chin.

"Well then, Mister Curious," Kirra said, grinning. She traced her fingers in little circles across the dragon's scales. It was more intimate a feeling than Alvaranox would have expected from so little a gesture. "If you must know, while I've certainly shared beds with men I fancied, I've been too busy helping you recover lately to spend much time with anyone else."

"Oh," the dragon said. Alvaranox was irritated and surprised to feel his heart sinking a little. For a moment he peered at his own reflection in the lake. In the water, his coppery eyes took on a faintly blue tint. He wondered if some of men she fancied might not even want to be with a woman stuck caring for a dragon. "I'm sorry about that. At least now you won't have to spend as much time with me."

Kirra tensed upon his back. She nearly went rigid with horror when she realized how that must have sounded to the dragon. "No, Alv! No, no no! Please, I didn't mean it that way. Not at all!"

Alvaranox turned his head to peer at her. Confusion and uncertainty swirled in his metallic eyes. The dragon cocked his head, his breath nearly catching in his throat. "What way did you mean it?"

"Alv..." Kirra sat up on the dragon's back, pushing wet curls out of her face. "I've many years to find a man I want to spend my life with. With any luck, some day I will, and when I retire as your handler, I can settle down with him. But right now, you are my first, my second, and my third concern."

Kirra leaned forward to wrap her arms around the dragon's neck. Alvaranox felt her warmth and softness pressed to his scales. "I don't know if you realized how happy I was just to be asked to share this island with you. You're my best friend, Alvaranox, and you deserve so much better than this cursed collar. It pierces my heart to know that I cannot set you free. You don't deserve to be stuck here. You should be free to go and find yourself a female, find yourself a lover! Have hatchlings with her, and scare all the idiot humans you want!"

Alvaranox swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. His voice was as cracked and parched as the wasteland he so often saw in his dreams. "I should very much like those things, Kirra. But I do not delude myself into thinking I shall ever have them."

Kirra sighed, resting her cheek against his scales. "One day at a time, Alv. Some day you'll be free. And until then?" Kirra turned her head up, smiling at him. "Until then you have me, at least."

Alvaranox gave a sigh. The sound seemed to hang low in the air as if weighed down by confusion. Perhaps that was all he'd ever have in Kirra, a friend. Then again, did he actually want something more? With a human? He'd admitted to Nylah if she'd been a dragon...but that was Nylah, and this was...Kirra. Damn it. In the end, it probably didn't matter.

A friend was enough.

"I am glad to have you, Kirra."

---

Chapter Eighteen

---

Moonlight painted the silent world silver. Alvaranox flew above the nighttime moors, unable to recall his ascent. The world was still and quiet. No animals howled, no insects chirped. Nothing stirred in the darkness beneath the dragon's wings. The land seemed frozen. On and on he flew and the moon did not move in the sky. The moors were as endless and without life as the waste he wandered in his dreams.

This land seemed unfamiliar. He knew he had been here many times and yet everything seemed so different. The dragon could not recall why he had taken to the skies. His memories were cracked fragments of a shattered mirror, reflecting only moments and broken ideas. Flight. Swimming. Friend. Love. Fear. Crumbled walls. A flash of something more substantial flickered in his mind, but the black cloak edged in scarlet vanished from memory before he could gasp it.

In its place came new memories. A stream of images and colors poured through his mind. The colors rolled across his vision, painting the world around him. In an instant the dark, lifeless moor was replaced by color, beauty and a thriving village. He stood on the streets, near a bridge that crossed a rushing river. The streets beneath his paws was freshly cobbled, the buildings that surrounded him recently constructed. The village was prosperous and growing by the day.

A bell tolled in the distance.

It was daytime. The sun was bright and the warmth was comforting. He perked his ears at the rise and fall of conversations all around him. Men, women and children wandered the streets. A few guards in leather armor with bronze studs strode around the place, casually keeping watch. The dragon padded down the road. He liked this village. They were always so kind to him.

Him.

The gender seemed unfamiliar.

Scents of freshly baked bread and sweet cakes teased the dragon's nostrils. He looked around, and the world itself turned over as though he were living in a children's picture book. Every time the page turned he found himself in a new place. A bakery nestled beneath the sheltering boughs of an ancient elm, near the center of the village. Smiling women around him in colorful clothes offered him trays of honey-iced treats. Alvaranox reached for one of the treats from the wooden tray.

His paw was blue. Purple edged some of the scales. Her memories filled his mind.

"Hello, Guardian! Look what we have for you today."

They called her Guardian. Did she have a name? She could not recall it. She liked being called Guardian. She liked this village. They had always treated her kindly. She was happy to protect them. She would protect this place to her dying day if she must. Guardian took the treats one at a time, popping them into her muzzle. They were sweet and delicious.

"Thank you," Guardian said, her voice soft and lilting by the standards of a dragon.

When the treats were gone, she turned away. Her collar buzzed around her neck. That was strange. It rarely did that. The buzzing stopped after a moment and she forgot about it as soon as it was gone. Something tugged at her mind. She turned her head to peer up at the hill. There was a fortress there that watched over the village day and night. That was where she lived. They'd made her a home in the village courtyard, a small shelter to shade her from the sun and protect her from the elements. She enjoyed sleeping outdoors.

The fortress was an impressive place. She was not that familiar with human construction but this was one of the bigger fortresses she had seen. Several octagonal towers capped the ends of walls several times her height, built from heavy stone blocks she had helped carry from a quarry. Granite and limestone, she thought, though she was no expert on stones and masonry. The main keep was four stories tall, large stained glass windows lined the third story. It large enough and strong enough for her to alight upon the roof and peer out over her beloved town.

The collar buzzed, and Guardian hissed in dismay. The world twisted around her, and she was walking up the wide pathway that lead to the front gate of her fortress home. As usual during the day the gates were open and the portcullis was raised. The guards that stood watch there bore heavier armor, interlocking metal plates reminded her of the plates that protected her own chest. She smiled at the guards, dipping her horned in a bow. They gestured back at her with their spears, greeted her.

The called her Guardian yet she was no slave. These people were her friends.

She liked this village.

A bell tolled in the distance.

Guardian blinked and shook her head. She did not like the sound of that bell. The world trembled under her paws. The scent of smoke burned her nostrils. She opened her eyes to silver slits, saw oily smoke and roiling flame. She closed her eyes and shook her head again. The trembling stopped, and the scent of burning wood and flesh was replaced by the aromas of wildflowers and distant rain. When she opened her eyes again, the village was calm, quiet and happy.

Better. She hated those little visions. Warnings she could not answer. Perhaps she should talk to her handlers. Surely they could give her something to help ease her waking mind the same way they'd eased her slumbering mind when she had nightmares as a youth. Youth. It seemed a flickering concept she could not quite recall anymore. She had been here all her life, hadn't she?

She liked this place. They were kind to her. Her Handlers rested in chairs around her shelter. She smiled at them and they smiled back. She would go and relax there, let them oil her scales.

Something tugged at her mind, sharp and urgent. She turned around in the courtyard. There were unfamiliar men here again. Silvery armor and helmets. Ebon cloaks edged in blood. She was not sure she liked those men, even though the village seemed to appreciate having them around. She remembered they were digging a hole but she could not recall if they were burying something or digging it up.

The urge tugged at her mind again. Tugged her to the other side of the courtyard where she saw them digging. She began to pad towards it, her Handlers forgotten. A feeling, an urge was growing in her like hunger gnawing at her belly. One of the men in the red-edged cloaks ran ahead of her. He stopped in her path, held his hands up as if to tell her she could go no further.

She put her paw on his shoulder and gently pushed him out of the way, then kept walking. To her surprise the man recovered quickly, and moved to stand in her way once more. This time he held his hand up to her face, but rested his other hand upon the hilt of his sword. She had not noticed they were armed before. Something twisted in her, cold and angry. A spike in her neck while the collar squeezed her throat. She had to obey. Who was this man to stop her? She was a dragon.

With fury she rarely displayed she snatched the man up in her blue and purple forepaws. Pivoting onto her hind legs for a moment, she hurled the armored man across the courtyard. All around her guards and workers cried out in surprise. The clatter of crumpling metal accompanied the man's crash against the courtyard. People ran to his aid as he tumbled to a stop. Others ran to the dragon to see what had angered her. Some of them began to yell at the men in the black and red cloaks.

What were they doing to anger their Guardian?

Like wax beneath a flame, the world around her began to melt away. Droplets of liquid stone rolled down the walls of the fortress. Beads of blue sky dripped to the earth. Everything she saw seemed a false facade peeling away to reveal the real world beneath it. Smoke dimmed the skies, flames painted the fortress walls in shades of orange, and screams hung in the air as though even the sounds could not escape. The world itself seemed to be ending all around her. Her beloved village was burning, her heart was breaking, and all she could do was dig.

Dig.

Dig.

Dig.

Blue paws tore at the earth as darkness settled over the village. Gray claws tore through old cobblestone, ripping it away from the ground upon which it rested for decades. Down through the old earth she dug. Moonlight spilled across the courtyard. With every breath she took, the urge to dig grew. With every heartbeat, her scales seemed a little less blue and a little more green. When claws scraped heavy flagstone buried deep beneath the courtyard they were not gray, but black. Into the night she dug, tearing the hard-packed earth away with every scoop of green paws.

Finally, she got her paws under the heavy granite flagstone laying at the bottom of the hole. Her forelegs burned, her lungs ached from steady panting, and still she dug. Brown dirt obscured green scales. With a snarl of effort, the heavy, flat flagstone at the bottom of the hole came loose. The dragon pulled it from the earth and tossed it aside to join the pile of broken cobblestone that lay all around her. At the bottom of the hole was what she sought. Strange. She knew what she would find and yet it surprised her to see it there.

As Alvaranox began to awake, the realization of dream overtook him. The life and memories of another were intertwined with own. His heartbeat accelerated, unsure if he should try to wake himself, or see where this led. Yet he felt himself rising towards consciousness, accelerating towards it whether he wished to wake or not. He swam towards the moonlight surface above the dream's dark waters. When he broke free, the dragon gasped for breath as though the dream had nearly drowned him.

Alvaranox jerked his head up, jumping to his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head a few times. Still groggy, he managed only to open his eyes to bleary slits. The stone walls of his broken fortress home wavered in his vision. What a dream. He wondered if he should tell Kirra about it. She was already worried for him and...where was Kirra? Where were his soft things? Still bleary-eyed, Alvaranox looked around. He was not in his sleeping chamber. There were no soft things, there was no Kirra.

There was dirt. It coated his paws and lay in piles all around him. There were broken cobblestones scattered all about. There was a cracked granite flagstone laying nearby. The smell of freshly tilled earth filled his nostrils. He was in the courtyard of the ruins where he'd nearly died. Moonlight was fading. In the distance, a lavender stripe marked the horizon. The sun would rise soon. Alvaranox had been here all night.

The hole in the earth was real, and he was the one digging it.

Alvaranox trembled, his heart rattled in his chest. Oh, Gods. What was he doing out here? He tried to snatch at the dream before it could evade him, but it was as ephemeral as the rest of his memories. Those men, though. They were. Black and red cloaks. They had...put something in the ground. And the female...she dug it up? Or had she? The dragon began to pant. Fear knifed through his belly like the cold steel that nearly ended his life. Why had he come out here?

The collar.

The collar had brought him here, filled his mind with dreams and memories that were not his own. Brought him here and made him dig this hole. Alvaranox knew what he would find in the hole, and he feared it. With trembling paws, the dragon reached into the hole. He felt something smooth, and solid, like polished stone. Alvaranox worked his paws beneath it, laying on his belly. From the hole he lifted the object, and placed it upon the ground.

Alvaranox knew this thing, he'd seen it in his visions. He knew just what to do with it.

He would hurl the damn thing in the lake.

---

Kirra awoke sometime after dawn with her head half hidden under a blanket. For a moment, she forgot where she was. She flailed around a little, thrashing against soft pillows and animal hides. Kirra felt about for the edges of her bed, not wanting to roll right off it. When she could find only soft things covering the ground, she started to remember. She was on Alvaranox's island.

Groggy, she pulled the blanket from her face and sat up a little bit. Red curls lay flattened against her head in some places, sticking out in random directions in others. Kirra dug the heel of her palm into her eyes, fighting back a yawn. It was a losing battle. As she yawned she thrust her fists into the air, arching her back.

"Morning, Alv," Kirra said, working her tongue over her teeth. Her mouth tasted off. Too much wine with the dragon. At least she wasn't hung over. "Alv?"

Kirra looked around the dragon's sleeping chamber and found it empty. He must have already gone out to hunt some breakfast. She rose to her feet, stumbling a little bit. After they'd gone swimming, they returned to Alv's sleeping chamber and shared more of his wine. Kirra had put on a simple cream and blue nightdress that she'd rolled up and stuck in the bottom of her pack. No sense putting on anything else until the next morning as she far as was concerned. Though it was morning now, she wasn't quite ready to dress. Maybe after a quick dip in the lake.

She fetched herself a mug and wandered towards the exit. Her dress swished around her ankles. It occurred to her that she should have put on her shoes before going outside in case she stepped on any thistles, but she'd stepped on worse things. She'd accidentally strode bare foot into an ant pile before. And not just once, either. Not even twice, but three different times. Kirra laughed to herself as she went out into the old courtyard.

Alvaranox was already there, sitting on his haunches a little ways off. Kirra casually waved at him with her mug. "Morning, Alv. You been hunting or just about to go?"

Kirra trudged around to the water barrel Alvaranox kept. She scooped up some water in her mug and took a drink. Then she sighed in satisfaction. The water was nice and cold. The morning was cool but the sun that brightened the courtyard was already warming the air. She took another drink, and turned back towards the dragon.

"Alv," Kirra said, laughing. "I'm talking to you, you silly beast. Why are you so quiet?" She blinked. The dragon was facing away from her and had made no effort to turn around. A smirk spread across her lips. "Did I catch you at an embarrassing time?"

Kirra laughed, walking up behind the dragon, just out of range of the curved black spines that tipped his tail. She spent a moment watching the beast. His black mottled wings were half unfurled, hanging limply at his sides. His body rose and fell with his breathing, but aside from that, the dragon was perfectly still. He didn't even seem to have noticed she was there.

"Alv?" Kirra asked, worry creeping into her voice. She quickly walked around in front of the dragon. "Alv, are you alright?"

Kirra's breath caught when she came around in front of him. His forelegs were caked in dirt and red earth. Dried blood clung to his paws where his pads had torn. Broken scales marked his dirty, bloodied fingers. The dragon's horned head was tilted down at the ground, his gaze seemed both distant and sharply focused. His spines lay limp against him. The copper color of his eyes reflected a strange, inky blackness.

Sitting before the dragon was a box made of shadow. Kirra had never seen anything like it. Perfectly symmetrical, its sides smooth, a perfect cube. Though the sun shone upon it, the box reflected no light and held no gleam. No dirt marked it. Though the box seemed reflected in the dragon's eyes, the dragon was not reflected in the box. On the front of the box was carved a bell. Kirra's breath caught. Her heart froze, then fluttered for a few beats.

Where had he gotten that?

"Alv," Kirra said. "Alv!"

Alvaranox could not hear her. Whatever that black box was, it mesmerized him. The box held the dragon in thrall. Kirra saw the dragon's eyes reflecting the blackness, she saw them shifting and flickering. He was watching something but whatever it was, it played out across his mind. The box and the collar poured visions and broken memories into his head.

With trembling fingers, Kirra reached towards the collar. She knew Alvaranox did want her talking in his head through the collar, but this might be an emergency. Kirra needed to know what the dragon saw. If Alv's head was full of darkness and nightmares she would drag him back to the light. She ran her fingers up the warm scales of his neck. The nearer her fingers drew to the collar, the tighter her stomach twisted. Part of her screamed to leave it be, but she could not. Kirra had to see if Alv needed help.

Kirra's fingers brushed the black collar, and the world fell away.

In its place a green moor stretched on all around her. Emerald hills rose and fell in endless waves. Grass and moss seemed to glow with shades of green more vibrant than Kirra had ever imagined. Red and orange wildflowers dotted the hills and valleys with colors that shone brighter than she thought possible. A stream cut through a valley, its waters reflected the radiant azure color of the brilliant sky.

This was the home Alvaranox remembered.

It was breathtaking, like the dazzling colors of a feverish dream.

A tiny hatchling bound over the top of a hill, clambering up a snaking line of rock. The little dragon bore familiar colors even in his youth. A larger green female with golden markings followed him up the hill. He leapt and she caught him in her mouth, then set him down. They were wild beasts in an untamed land, and yet the love between them was palpable.

Kirra felt torn between two worlds. She felt the pliant smoothness and unnatural warmth of the collar beneath her fingers even as the pleasant breeze of the open moor caressed her skin. The scent of wildflowers teased her. Her mind twisted, her head ached as it struggled to discern reality from borrowed dream. She lived for a time in Alv's visions as a ghost, as a spirit the dragon could not sense. In the way of dreams she saw Alv's life both from a great distance and through his own eyes. For a time, she was Alv.

Moss was soft under her paws.

Sunlight was warm against her wings.

"Drink your water." Mother was happy.

Water was sweet and fresh upon her tongue.

The world flickered, and the water turned to mud in her mouth. She coughed and spat it, saw her green reflection through Alv's eyes in a foul, tepid pool.

"Drink your water." Mother was sad.

"It's muddy." Alv's youthful whimper echoed in her mind.

"Drink your water." Mother was desperate. Her child needed water.

Kirra fought the visions, trying to return to Alv's happier memories. His own childhood seemed to twist into another. Kirra thought of that green moor, and the world flickered once again. The stream in front of her flowed clear and sweet. The scent teased her nostrils. Alvaranox drank it again, blissfully unaware of any other way of life.

In the distance, a bell tolled.

Fire swept across the moors. Alvaranox screamed. Hot winds blasted the land, wiping away all trace of life upon the moor. The hills were brown and dead. The water was dry. The trees were dying. The moss was dust beneath their paws. Mother dug in the dirt.

Kirra struggled to breath. She tried to pull herself to reality. Kirra tried to wrench her hand away from the collar but she felt as though her fingers had melded with the thing, her mind lost inside Alvaranox's waking dreams.

Kirra gasped for breath. The air was hot, it seared her lungs. The sun burnt her skin. She felt blistered. All around her lay a wasteland of red earth and broken, black stone. Dead trees with boughs like blackened claws scratched at the sky, frozen in desperate plea for rain that never came. In the distance there was movement in the lifeless land.

Two dragons trudged through the waste. A mother and child. Now and then the mother paused, dug at the earth, and moved on. She shaded her child with her wing as they walked the barren land.

Kirra forced herself to keep breathing. The air here burned, but she feared if she did not breathe it, she would suffocate in reality. She tried to follow the hatchling and the mother. She tried to call out to Alv in the waking world to rouse him from this nightmare. The wastes the dragon spoke of seeing when the bell called to him were merging with his childhood memories. Kirra wanted to help him, to draw him back to reality and remind him of his life, and yet she had no voice with which to call.

The whole world twisted before her like colored paints swirling in a bucket. When the swirling came to a stop, she found herself before a ruin. Burnt buildings lined ash-covered streets. Charred, skeletal corpses littered the ground. A vaguely familiar fortress sat atop a hill. Battered walls sagged and crumbled. A blue and purple dragon stalked the streets, wailing in heartbroken anguish, roaring in uncontrolled fury. She seemed lost, staggering from one smoldering building to another. A black collar ringed her neck.

In a flickering, stuttering stream of images Kirra saw another dragon, a tiny blue hatchling. The hatchling nosed about in aged ruins. In the distance, her mother watched. Her child did not know what happened. Memories from that blue dragon tumbled through her head, beauty and horror twined into one confusing stream. Kirra heard the female's thoughts, poured through memory.

We won't be here long. It isn't safe anymore.

Have to keep moving.

Not enough food or water for her anymore.

Kirra saw a flicker of a green dragon, digging in the dirt.

Once more she saw the ruined fortress upon the hill. She knew this place. Alv brought her here to hunt trophies. It was so desolate. The grass was dead. The land was dry. Only the rains brought new life to the river beneath the bridge. Her own memories filtered into her mind. She could see so far from the dragon's back. The desolation seemed endless. Beyond the hill capped by the broken fortress, there was nothing. Dead grass. Dying trees. In the distance, at the edge of her vision, there was red earth.

There was a wasteland beyond those ruins. She had glimpsed it in reality but in the dream it stretched before her, growing by the moment. In her vision, she saw the center of that wasteland. And in the center of the waste there was a box made of shadow. The box was open and from it spewed forth red earth and heat and the wasteland grew. It spread like a plague of emptiness, leeching the life from the land.

She tried to hold onto that thought but she may as well have been trying to snatch shadows from the wall. The world flickered and once more Kirra found herself in a memory of Alv's childhood. It was wonderful. It was warm and comforting. The grass was soft, the sun was warm, the water was fresh, the prey was plentiful. There were hills to climb and ruins to play in.

"Look momma!" Alvaranox bound up another hill. "Imma conquer the castle!"

At the top of the hill there was an old fortress. A ruined city lay below. In the memory the ruins were overgrown with tall weeds and thick grasses. Trees had taken root, and wildflowers bloomed among cracks in fallen walls. But Kirra had seen that ruin, and there was nothing there but desolation. No green grass, no blooming flowers. Kirra's own memories began to conflict with Alv's. Her hand trembled on the collar and the world around them shook. Alv screamed.

A flood of shrouded, indecipherable memories washed across Kirra's mind, wiping away all rational thought. Hunger. Thirst. Fear. Comfort. Love.

A hard life. A dying land.

Those feelings were pulled from her so swiftly it felt as though her mind was rattling in her skull. It sent pain spiking through her head, and the pain woke her from the twisted dreams she shared with the dragon. Kirra cried out as her hand came free of the collar. She stumbled back and landed hard on the battered cobblestone. She pressed her hand to her head, trying to quell the ache. As the pain began to fade, a terrible realization settled in upon her.

Alvaranox saw the world differently. Beyond Asterryl, beyond the villages and the farms and the beauty of the wilds around them, Alvaranox saw a wondrous moor. He saw brilliant green hills and fields of flowers and streams cutting through ruin-capped hills. He saw the place he thought he remembered from his childhood, and he had been so excited to share it with Kirra.

Kirra saw none of those things.

When Alv took her beyond the land she knew, Kirra saw no beauty. Kirra saw no water, no green hills. Kirra saw desolation. Kirra saw dead grass and rotting trees. Kirra saw the ruins but they did not speak of a land that could not be tamed. They spoke of a land that was slowly dying. Beyond that dying land lay only red earth and waste.

The wasteland that Alv dreamt of was real, and he did not even know it.

Something happened to that old town, and the poor female dragon could not stop it. The waste crept ever closer to Asterryl and the other towns beyond.

Asterryl now lay upon the boundary.

Asterryl was the line in the sand.

"Kirra," Alv murmured, pressing a paw to his head.

His voice still sounded distant. Kirra pushed herself to her feet and flung her arms around the dragon's neck. She wanted to comfort him however she could. She wondered if he had realized the same thing she had. For all she knew, the collar was already erasing some of what she'd uncovered. How could she tell him that the beautiful moors he saw when he flew far from Asterryl were little more than a shroud of comforting dream the collar draped across his eyes?

"Where am I?" The dragon groaned, rubbing the base of his ridged black horn. His copper eyes were unfocused.

"You're home, Alv," Kirra said, stroking his neck, hugging him against her body. "You're safe, and you're home. You're on your island."

Alvaranox lifted one of his fore paws, staring at the dirt on it. He tilted his head, lifting his spines in confusion as if he could not even recall digging up the box. The box. It bore the image of the bell that called the dragon to action. In Kirra's twisted dream, the box carried with it the plague of emptiness.

Kirra turned her head and stared at the box. How she wished Alvaranox left it buried in the earth. She feared the collar would not have let him. The collar made him dig it up. The collar made him carry it here. Kirra's eyes drifted to the bell carved upon the box. It was wreathed in dragons, spewing roiling flame across the earth.

The box brought the waste.

"Alv," Kirra whispered to the dragon. "You have to get rid of this. You have to throw it in the lake, or put it back wherever you dug it up from."

"I can't," Alvaranox said. The fear in the dragon's voice hung in the courtyard like pyre smoke. "The collar won't let me."

The box was part of the dying world. Without even realizing it, the dragon had carried it across the line in the sand, and brought the wasteland to Asterryl.

---

Thus ends The Line In The Sand. Thank you for Reading! If you've enjoyed, Please Fav and leave a comment. If you have thoughts to share on the story, the characters, or the many mysteries woven within it, I'd love to hear them.