FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter One

I do not know how long I cried in Amaleen's embrace while my son barely clung to life. I hated feeling so utterly helpless. Dragons were creatures of power and will. We were meant to be masters of all we gazed upon from our lofty place in the skies. I had once ruled these lands and yet for all my power and influence there was not a damn thing I could do to help my son Valaranyx heal. I knew he may yet live a long life, and I also knew it may be a life devoid of flight. To a dragon, such was a life barely worth living.

Amaleen's concern and warm embrace brought me comfort and I clung to it like a drowning rat to a bit of timber. I must have soaked her nightgown with my tears and never once did she complain. She did not ask me to stop or move my head from its place upon her lap. She did not tell me we should go someplace else. She did not let anyone stare at the crying dragon huddled beneath the old apple tree. Anyone who stopped nearby was shooed away with a silent but urgent gesture of her hands.

When I could not stop myself from crying, when I could not find a way to end the pain that crushed my heart in its grasp, Amaleen began to sing. If the song had words, she did not sing them. She sang only the notes in a soft, sweet voice. I do not know what song it was. Perhaps it was a human's lullaby. It was a haunting melody that was equal parts sorrow and beauty. It sounded like the sort of thing she might sing to a frightened child. The tune almost seemed to carry a weight to it. Without words it still held a message, that things were hard now but in the end, they would be alright.

It was a great and unexpected comfort to me. As Amaleen sang, I slowly lifted my head from her lap, blinking away tears from my gleaming golden eyes. She sang a few moments longer, and I simply watched her. I felt in awe of every part of her. There was strength in this female, this human woman, I could not even imagine finding in myself. She had worked all through the night to save my son's life, and now, despite her long-held hatred of me, she was singing me a song to ease my tears in my darkest moments.

How two people could misjudge each other so badly for so long I would never know.

When she stopped singing, Amaleen let her blue eyes linger upon my own. We held each other's gazes as if searching our souls for the answers to every question that could ever be asked. There was something in that moment. Something of great depth I could not describe. I had never felt anything like it before. It almost felt as if that moment was always meant to be between us. That one way or another, we were always going to find ourselves in that moment, together.

I am not so foolish as to believe in destiny, but for a least a few heartbeats I certainly felt as though I had somehow been destined to be with her. All the moments of my life, all the choices I'd made had somehow lead me to Amaleen. It was a strange feeling, and I tried to shake it off but it would not leave me be. There was so much more to her than I had ever imagined, and I knew now she felt the same way about me. I wanted to...know her...even more.

But I had far more urgent matters. I had to see to my son.

When our gazes finally broke away from each other, I slowly pushed myself up to my feet, and eased away from Amaleen. "I should like to be there for him when he wakes," I said, glancing away for a moment. "Thank you for..." I didn't know what to say. For saving my son? For holding me while I cried? For singing to me to ease my pain? "Thank you for everything."

It was a deceptively simple phrase said far too often. In this case I meant it in the most literal sense I could. I wanted to thank her for everything she had ever done for me, from showing me the truth about Lenira's love all the way up until this very moment. Given my currently quite frazzled state of mind, I could not come up with a better way to put my thoughts to words than a simple statement. I hoped that she would understand.

She did. She understood completely. It was becoming increasingly clear to me I might not be able to overestimate Amaleen even if I tried. She wrapped her arms around my neck, just beyond my head, hugging me. "You're welcome, Valyrym."

Alia, at this point, I should think Val Junior would like a hug himself even if he's too stubborn to admit it. There, isn't that better? What? You think that I'm the one who's too stubborn to admit he wants a hug? ...Very well then.

...Yes, Alia. That is better. Thank you.

Amaleen led me back to her home. People seemed to stare at me the entire way. Some of them held confusion in their gazes. Others sympathy, and still more, sorrow. Word of my son's injuries was beginning to spread, and I imagined that in some corners of town that word was already mutating into rumor. Some of the townspeople looked as if they were afraid I was going to burn their city down should anything else happen to Valar. Others looked as though they wanted to come and hug me themselves. For now, I had Amaleen keep them all at bay. I was not up to dealing with any humans aside from her.

Beyond all the staring eyes, the trip back to Amaleen's home was a blur. Like Amaleen I'd been up all night. Halfway back to her house, fatigue hit me like a war hammer against my skull. My vision blurred, and I stumbled down the cobblestone thoroughfare. I wobbled on my paws, and inadvertently took a few faltering steps sideways. I bumped into Amaleen and nearly knocked her over before I caught my balance again.

"Easy, Val," Amaleen said, putting her hand on my neck. "Take a few deep breaths. We're almost home. Valar's not going to wake for a few hours, let's get you back to my house and you can take a nap in my back garden."

"Mal'rright, Aramlarp," I muttered, my words nearly as incoherent as Valar's had been when he was a hatchling, and less than half as adorable.

When we reached Amaleen's house I saw that a group of armored guards had stationed themselves all around the area. They were there to keep the townspeople from bothering her apprentices and to ensure that Valar had peace and quiet. Had I been more coherent at the time I'd have suspected they were also there to keep the townsfolk and me separated.

Amaleen led me around the side of her house. She put her hand on my nose and brought me to a stop. I was so tired now I felt a little drunk. Drunkenness was a feeling I'd rarely experienced, though I had stolen entire barrels of wine from humans in the past. Not knowing any better I'd also enjoyed the entire contents of said barrels in a single sitting. Now as then, I found myself wobbling on my paws, my vision swimming. I felt ready to pass out, and I knew even a few hours of sleep would help me greatly. But Amaleen wouldn't let me sleep quite yet.

With one hand on my muzzle, she used her other hand to point to one of the barrels that held the silver rainwater she collected. "Drink."

"Sleep," I replied, starting to push past her.

She took a few steps back, and pushed against my nose to get me to stop again. "Drink some water first, Valyrym. I can only imagine how much water you dragons must need to drink every day, and I'm sure you haven't had a drop of it since you brought your son here."

"Later," I murmured, though I could not deny the suddenly burning thirst I felt all across my tongue, and down my long throat. I'd been in too much pain to even notice it until she brought it to my attention.

"No, Val," she said softly. "I'm a healer, remember? You're only going to feel worse if you keep getting dehydrated. I want you to feel better when you wake up, not worse. I'm sure Valar's going to want to see you, and the better you feel the stronger you'll be able to be for him, right?"

I took a deep breath, my black scaled body slowly expanding. Then I huffed it out in a long sigh. "Very well, Amaleen." Was she actually concerned for my well being? That was a very strange concept. But I knew she was right. Dragons did require an awful lot of food and water compared to a human. "I shall help myself to your water."

I turned towards the barrel and dropped my head to the water inside. As I lapped at the silver-tinted liquid I found it lovely, cool, and refreshing. Even in the summer, it rained frequently enough that Amaleen could empty the barrel now and then if she wished to prevent it from going stagnant, and it would end up filled again before long. I drank until I felt my belly could hold no more. I lifted my head. Silvery droplets fell from my muzzle and splashed back into the remaining water sending little ripples running across the surface.

What's that, Alia? You don't think Amaleen appreciated my dragon slobber in her water supply? Then she shouldn't have suggested it. I think you humans sometimes take the idea of cleanliness too far. Besides, I later found out that was her apprentices' barrel she'd pointed me to anyway.

Quenched, I made my way past Amaleen into her back garden. She had an expansive section of land back behind her home. It was closed off from the rest of the town by a tall wooden fence nearly completely wrapped in a variety of leafy green vines and ivies. Here and there massive blue flowers with yellow centers bloomed from some of the vines, dotting the green mass with vibrant color. Amaleen quickly dashed in front of me before I could get too far into her garden to make sure I didn't trample her extensive collection of herbs. I'd seen some of them drying in her house but hadn't realized she grew her own until now.

She had quite a few large trees further back into her expansive yard, and a few little trails cut through the grass here and there. Stone benches were set up beneath archways of white latticework trellis, also coated in vines and flowers. A tiny stream flowed through a corner of her property, and thanks to a small stone dam she had a little pond as well. Flashes of color inside the pond told me she also had some fish in it.

I walked to the largest tree I could find, and settled myself beneath its boughs. I did not want to sleep in the sunshine right now. The shade seemed far more comforting. I curled as tightly as I could, and lay my head down upon the ground. Within a few breaths my great fatigue swiftly dragged me beneath the dark waters of slumber.

---

"Valyrym?" Amaleen's voice alone was not quite enough to rouse me. "Valyrym?" She said again putting a hand upon my neck. She gently shook me. I murmured, and hesitantly opened my eyes. "Valyrym, I'm sorry to wake you. You've been asleep about three hours. I thought you'd want to know Valar is beginning to wake up."

"Mmrrrhhmm," I rumbled, groggy. "Yes...alright. Thank you."

"It'll be a few minutes at least before he's really coming around," Amaleen said, stroking my neck softly. "But we're going to bring him outside. We think it would be better for him if he wakes up outside, in your presence."

"Yes, of course," I replied, starting to push myself to my feet. I wobbled a little, then stumbled back and bumped my rump against the trunk of the old oak tree I'd slept beneath. "I think I need a minute to wake up, anyway."

"I'm going to bandage your leg, too," Amaleen said, walking back towards her house. "I would have done it already but you needed the sleep as much as I did."

I took that to mean that she'd slept for a few hours too. At this point I wasn't sure which one of us was more worn out. The father who'd stayed up all night worrying for his son or the woman who'd stayed up all night saving his life. Or even the apprentices who stayed up all night assisting the healing procedures. Hopefully they'd all gotten at least a little rest.

I followed Amaleen towards her house. Thanks in part to her reminder, my front leg throbbed where the crossbow bolt had sunk into my flesh. Each step made me wince, and I found myself limping a little. Perhaps the wound was worse than I'd realized, or more likely it was angry from going so long without being tended. I found myself a place to sit near the back of Amaleen's house, where there was a large patch of soft green grass. I liked the grass, it reminded me of the hills I used to take Lenira to in her last days.

I settled upon my haunches, looking over the back of Amaleen's house. More gutters and pipes ran along the back edge of her sloped roof, guiding water towards one of two barrels that sat at the far corners of the back of her home. The walls were wooden and white washed, with darker wooden frames around each of the windows. Here and there colorful designs had been painted across the white surface. Images of flowers, and the sun, and in one instance, children at play on a faraway hilltop. It looked as though more than one artist had painted them, some of them were clearly older than others. A porch made of splinter-free, smoothed down wood spread out around her green-painted back door. It was covered with a thatched roof supported with several wooden poles. Here and there patches of moss clung to the thatching of her roof.

The back door opened again, and Amaleen walked out with a basket stuffed with bandages, jars of salve, sinew threads, needles and other healing supplies I was not familiar with. I tried to peer past her to get a look at my son, but she shut the door behind herself. I snorted in irritation. Amaleen ignored my grumpiness and set the basket down in front of me. She pulled a small cloth from the basket, and spread it out against the grass.

"Let me see your wound," Amaleen said, unpacking her things and placing them on the blanket.

It took me a moment to do as she asked. For a moment the similarities struck me into awe. I watched her placing her healing supplies on that blanket, and all I could think of was Lenira, the day I'd met her. She'd placed her own supplies down on the sand, as we sat on the edge of the river bank. Then, one by one, she'd examined all my wounds, and cleaned them all out to make sure they'd heal properly. Her touch had been so gentle, so caring even then. A flash of guilt hit me for a moment. Why hadn't I realized sooner?

Then another thought hit me when I saw Amaleen pull a familiar looking silver flask from her basket. "This is going to hurt, isn't it."

"Yes, Val," Amaleen said. "It's going to hurt a lot."

Well, there was one difference between her and Lenira. "Lenira didn't tell me that part," I said, chuckling a little. I held my front leg up for her.

"Lenira?" Amaleen seemed confused a moment, then understanding dawned in her eyes as she gently placed her fingers against the scales on the underside of my front leg. She guided me to lift it a little higher, then began to examine the now puffy, angry red wound. "Oh, that's right! She tended your wounds when she first met you, didn't she."

"Yes," I said, wincing as she prodded the injury. "That was how we met." I spoke as Amaleen went to dip a cloth into the bucket of silver rainwater. "Kylaryn was harassing her caravan. They'd been off in another country, I think, or city. Trading and stealing." That part made me chuckle, and Amaleen giggled too. "I chased Kylaryn off, and asked for a reward."

"Mhm," Amaleen murmured as she returned and had me ease my front leg back up again. "So I've heard."

A bit of shame filled me, if only for a moment. "I hadn't meant it that way. I only wanted some treasure." I sucked in a breath as she began to gently clean the angry wound with a wet cloth. "In the end I found something even more valuable."

I looked down at the woman tending my wound. For a moment even I wasn't sure if I meant Lenira, or Amaleen. Amaleen glanced up at me with a little smile, and went right back to cleaning my wound. I grimaced, though I knew the real pain hadn't even started yet. When the area was clean, Amaleen fetched the dreaded flask.

"This is the part that's going to hurt, Val," Amaleen said, giving me the warning Lenira hadn't. "Why don't you keep talking?"

"I'm sure you heard that story from Lenira more than enough," I chuckled. For a moment, I was curious. "Did she tell you about it? The day she returned?"

Amaleen laughed a little bit. "I wasn't even born yet, Val."

"Oh..." I gulped, and licked my nose, feeling quite foolish. If Amaleen had been alive when I met Lenira then she too would have long since faded from the earth. "I forget that sometimes..." I trailed off for a moment, then gave a little sigh, flicking my tail tip against the grass. My spiny frills drooped against my head. "It's still quite fresh for me, you know."

"What's still quite fresh for you?" Amaleen tried to keep me talking as she pressed the cloth to my front leg.

I hissed in pain, my tail curling. "The memory. The first time I met her." As she began to scrub at the hole in my foreleg, I clenched my paws into fists against the ground, and forced words across my tongue. "Her whole life is gone, and for me? ...It feels like it was months ago I met her. It's still there, fresh in my memory. I don't even know how long ago it was. I didn't even know how long you lived, until I met her. Until I..." I cried out a little, then grit my teeth, the harsh spirits burning deep in the wound. My own guilt burned my soul just as deeply. "Until I wasted her life."

"It's in the past, Valyrym," Amaleen said softly. "You can let it go, now."

"Have you?"

Amaleen turned her piercing blue eyes up to meet mine. She gave me a hard look, but a smile soon softened it. "I'm starting to."

"It's...difficult for me," I admitted, glancing away. "I feel like I buried her yesterday." I blinked, and licked my nose, gesturing with a paw. "I mean, you buried her...the town..."

"I know what you mean, Val," Amaleen said, switching back to the cloth soaked in water, much to my relief. "There. The worst of it is over. I should stitch it up, though."

"That wasn't so bad," I said, only half telling the truth. "And I don't want any stitches."

"See? It's better when you talk through the pain." She rinsed the wound a few times with the now bloodied cloth. "I'll let you go without stitches for now, but I may put them in later if I don't like the way it's healing." She was quiet for a moment, then glanced up at my face. "I didn't know it was still so fresh for you."

I murmured a little. "I have a strong memory. I think all dragons do. I feel like I just lost her. I feel like...you just showed up at my home to tell me what a monster I was a few days ago, and I feel like I've only just met Lenira." I hung my head and heaved a sigh. "And that was her entire lifetime ago."

"Longer, actually," Amaleen reminded me. "It's been over fifteen years since she passed Val."

"Fifteen years," I muttered. "I could have counted it in breaths."

Amaleen set the cloth down, and rinsed her hands in the harsh spirits to cleanse them. Then she picked up one of the jars of salve, and scooped out some astringent smelling goop. "It's hard for us to understand you, Valyrym."

I pulled my head back a little, nostrils burning from that unpleasant scent. "It is? Do I speak your tongue incorrectly?"

"No," Amaleen said with a laugh. "You speak it excellently, in fact. That's not what I meant, though."

As she reached towards my leg with the salve, I hissed in distaste. "Then tell me what that horrid smelling slime is, and what you plan to do with it."

"It's herbal salve," Amaleen said, as if she expected a dragon to know what the hell that meant. When I stared at her blankly, she explained in more detail. "It will help keep your wound healing swiftly. Trust me, alright? You may live longer than us but best I can tell you're still just flesh and blood like every other living thing."

"We are," I said, quite sure of it.

"Then this will help you mend, so stop fussing," Amaleen said firmly, before pressing her hand to my wound. Once more I snarled in pain as she worked the sticky stuff into my injury. I wasn't sure but I think she might have been pressing it in a little too hard just to teach me some manners. When she had it in there, she wiped off the excess, and picked up a roll of bandage, then began to wrap them around my front leg.

"What did you mean, a moment ago?" I watched her mummify my black foreleg one layer of white gauzy bandage at a time. "When you said it's hard to understand us."

Amaleen glanced up at me without missing a beat in her bandaging. "The way you see things. The way time passes you by and you barely even notice. Compared to dragons, humans live very short lives and even for us time and life can pass us by. But we still keep track of it. But for you? You barely even seem to understand the concept of it."

"I understand it now," I said, bitter.

"You're starting to, I think," Amaleen said. She checked how much bandage was left on the roll, and wrapped it round my leg a few more times. "The last time I saw you, when you first brought Valaranyx by, it had been ten years since Amaleen passed. I haven't seen you since, and I'd wager you don't even know how long it's been since then." She softened her tone a little. "I'd also wager you feel a bit guilty about that."

"Fifteen years?" I offered, only because she'd just said as much. Wait, no. She'd said more than fifteen, hadn't she? But that was since Amaleen died, and that had been ten years prior. "Five...years?"

Amaleen chuckled at my fumbling attempts. "Seven years, Val. Seven years since you first brought Valaranyx here. How old is he now?"

"I...I don't know." It was a realization that I found embarrassing. "I want to say he's...fifteen? Seventeen?" I sired him not long after Lenira passed. "We don't measure things in days like you do. We measure them by seasons, and he hatched in the fall. I think it's been sixteen autumns since his hatching. Maybe fifteen."

Amaleen shook her head, chuckling. "You see? You're so different from us. To a human, the day of birth is a very special thing, and we celebrate it every year. I know exactly which day of which year I was born, and Lenira always made me a special treat that day."

"We celebrate his hatching in the fall..." I trailed off, feeling strangely inadequate. "We get him gifts and things but...we don't know the exact day."

"Honestly, Valyrym, I wouldn't expect you to." Amaleen smiled, and stood up. "It's not like you have a calendar or anything."

"My clan did," I said, slightly in protest. "It was an old system, held over from when our clans were much more numerous..." I glanced down at my paws. "It's probably gone now." I shifted a little, and gave a sigh. "I just count things by the seasons. Sometimes I don't count them at all."

"I know, Valyrym," Amaleen said, gentle as could be. "And I know you didn't mean to mistreat Lenira, and I know you never meant to let her life pass her by while she waited for you. You just...don't understand us any better than we understand you."

"I'm starting to," I said, letting my gaze catch Amaleen's.

Amaleen smiled back at me, and for a moment she stroked the scutes of my front leg. "I know you are." She pulled away, and walked towards her house. Then she paused to look back at me over her shoulder. "How long do you live?"

"A few hundred years at least," I said, still staring at my paws. I felt oddly guilty again, and I wasn't entirely sure why any more. "I don't know exactly how many. How long do you live?"

Amaleen gave me a wistful smile. "We rarely make one hundred, Val. In some parts of the world, we rarely make fifty."

Amaleen left me to ponder that as she ventured back into her house to check on my son. I was tempted to ask her just how old Lenira had been when she died. The question was poised on my tongue before Amaleen vanished into her home, but it never left my lips. Before Amaleen had even shut the door to her house, I had decided I didn't want to know. To know exactly how old Lenira had been when she died would attach a number to human life in my mind, and I did not want to do that. I wanted to get to know Amaleen better, and I did not want to find myself counting down the years. I just wanted to appreciate them.

---

Chapter Two

---

It was not long before Amaleen and one of her apprentices carefully carried Valar out back. I knew Amaleen could carry him herself but I was glad to see she'd asked for help to ensure his wounds remained as stable as could be. He was still groggy, but was moving a little bit now. He murmured to himself, his words as incomprehensible as they had been when he was a tiny youngling. Not that he was much more now. Amaleen and her apprentice carefully set the heavily bandaged hatchling down in a patch of sunlight, on the soft grass.

My heart lodged itself in my throat at the sight of him. My poor son. Valaranyx looked wretched. The area around his nostrils had gone quite pale gray rather than soft blue. Just as a dragon could blush on the inside of his ears, and the soft area around his nostrils where the scales were thin, so too could a dragon go pale when he was ill, or injured. He'd lost a lot of blood, and it certainly showed. Some of the bandages had small, discolored splotches on them already, and Amaleen told me they'd probably have to change them fairly often early on while his wounds continued to seep. His scale color looked dull and sickly, the inside of his ears a very unhealthy, pale pink rather than a more vibrant hue.

Still, he was alive.

Valar stirred a little bit, and I reached out to gently caress the still-soft scales of his neck. "Hello, my love," I murmured to him.

Valar slowly opened his silver-flecked, golden eyes. He blinked groggily a few times. I stroked his neck a little more, and he arched it, pressing against my paw. He started to try and rise, but his legs wobbled and I tried to ease him back down. He mewled in pain, and flopped onto his belly, still unsure of himself and where he was.

"It's alright, it's alright," I cooed to him. I dropped my head to nuzzle his face, and lick at his ears and cheeks. "You're alright, I'm here, Son, I'm here."

Valar slowly tipped his head back till he was peering up at me. Slowly, recognition dawned in his gaze. Weakly, he reached a paw towards my face and set it upon my pebbly, black scaled nose as if to assure himself I was actually there. I licked his paws and got the tiniest little giggle from him as my tongue tickled the sensitive skin of young pads.

"Hello, my son," I murmured.

"Father," Valar said, his voice soft and trembling.

"Yes, my lovely one?"

Valar blinked at me, a funny expression crossing his snout. "I have to pee."

I burst out laughing, and soon, so did Amaleen when I translated. After all he'd been through, all the pain he'd felt, the first thing that crossed his mind upon waking was that he had to pee. It seemed so unexpected to me, and so typically hatchling, so typically Valar, that it actually made me feel better. I laughed for a long time, unable to stop myself. I laughed until Valar was glaring at me, and when I lowered my head again he swatted my nose with a paw.

"Not funny! I have to peeeeee!"

"Alright, alright, my love." I licked his head, and he squawked and pulled back. "Don't pee right there, though, that'll be your patch of sunlight for a while." I looked around for a suitable spot, and then glanced at Amaleen. She gestured towards a nearby corner where Valar could go, and where he wouldn't be urinating on her herb garden or anything. "I'll take you over there, alright son?"

Valar didn't reply. Instead, he began to push himself up to his feet, then whined in pain, his body trembling. "I hurt!"

His simple words broke my heart all over again. "I know you do, Love. You shouldn't be walking much right now, anyway. Let me take you over there, and if you want to walk back, you can."

Without giving him a chance to reply, I gently picked him up. I took his neck in my teeth, and hoisted him off the ground. He wasn't yet so big I couldn't carry him in my jaws, though I didn't do so often anymore. He seemed a little surprised, but hung limply from my maw as I carried him across Amaleen's yard. I set him down very, very slowly, so that he could gingerly brace himself against his paws. He whined as his injured hind leg took the weight, and quickly shifted himself so that he'd distributed most of his weight between his other three limbs.

I turned away to let him relieve himself, waiting for the telltale sounds. At first nothing came, and then he gave a frustrated chirp. "Can't do it!" He huffed, stomping a front paw. "Can't pee!"

That gave me pause. Normally, hearing a little hatchling claim he couldn't pee would sound quite amusing. But I was suddenly worried that the bolt that hit him in his lower abdomen had done more injury than Amaleen had realized. What if it had done serious damage to a kidney, or his bladder? When I cast my worried glance back at Valar he glared at me, hissing through his sharp little teeth.

"No peeking!"

That made me chuckle a little, but I still didn't feel much better. I looked over at Amaleen, and she smiled. "I think he's fine, Val. Sometimes the herbs that we gave him have that effect. He'll loosen up soon enough." She raised her voice to call out to Valar. "Valar? Can you just try a little harder, dear? Sometimes when you sleep a lot you have to push just a little more."

I shifted awkwardly back and forth on my paws while Valar put a little more effort into urinating. It took him quite a while, but finally I could hear liquid splattering grass. More so, I heard Valar gave a very loud, and completely unashamed sigh of relief. Even when he was finally going, it still took him awhile to finish. After all it had been a night and a day since the last time he'd done so.

When he was finished he began to limp back towards me. I went to pick him up but he bared his fangs and shook his head. "Nooo. I walking now."

He certainly had my stubbornness. Were I the one grievously injured, I'd want to walk around on my own power as well. Especially when I'd been a youngling. I didn't bother to correct his speech, instead I just moved to his side to support him if he needed it. Amaleen walked over as well, glancing back towards the puddle he'd left to make sure there wasn't any blood in it. Everything appeared normal, and she soon walked on the opposite side of Valar from me.

It was a very short trip, yet it took Valar a long time to make it. He took each step slowly and carefully, and I could tell it was very painful for him. I grit my teeth the entire journey, and each time he moved his hind leg, I winced. I could see the pain on his face, etched across his tiny scales. His spines all stood out yet his ears were pinned back, his fangs exposed in a pained grimace. When he finally reached the spot of sunny grass, he lowered himself down onto his belly, and rolled over against his uninjured side, sniffling.

"My everything hurts," he whimpered to me.

I settled down on my belly in front of him, putting my head against his. "No it doesn't," I said, trying to cheer him up and take his mind off the pain. "I bet your face doesn't hurt."

He sniffled a little more, and shook his head.

"See?" I smiled, licking at his face. He whined a little more, and then lay his head down on the grass. I kept licking at him.

"My leg hurts and my body hurts and my belly hurts and my ribs hurts and my wing hurts."

"I know," I said, fighting off the clenching of my own throat. "You have to be strong, though. I'm already very proud of you, walking all the way back here on your own." Proud as I was, I knew that made him hurt worse. Yet there were some things a young dragon had to learn on his own. Perhaps next time he'd let me carry him both ways. "I'm hurt too," I said, lifting my front leg to show him the bandage. As he hoisted his head from the grass to peer at my limb, I gestured with my muzzle at where I'd been hit by the crossbow bolt. "See?"

Valaranyx gave a glum nod. "I'm hurt more," he assured me.

He was right. Still, the stubborn-hatchling way in which he wanted to try and outdo his father made me smile. "Yes," I agreed. "You are. Though, I may be the one who's hurt the worst after your mother finds out what happened."

That made Valar giggle. "Mother's gonna squeeze your balls again."

I winced at that idea, and Amaleen started giggling. "Did you say_again_?" she asked, a little incredulous.

Valar peered up at her as if he'd just noticed her. Perhaps he just realized he'd been speaking her language that time. In a way I was proud of him. He had learned their tongue so well from me it seemed he barely realized which language he was speaking at any one time. Of course, the fact Amaleen heard him say such a thing was a little embarrassing to me. His next little statement was doubly embarrassing.

I should have expected as much. In the manner of all children and hatchlings, he blurted out something he shouldn't have to someone he barely knew. "Sometimes, when mother gets mad at father, she squeezes his balls. But I'm not opposed to know."

"Valar," I said, though I started to laugh too. "You shouldn't talk like that. And you mean, supposed to know. And no, you're not! Anyway, don't say that."

"But mother says balls," he protested.

"I know she does, but that's an adult word, not a hatchling word."

"Oh, poop on you!" Valar said with a huff, laying his head down in the grass.

That only made Amaleen and I laugh harder. Valar didn't seem to know what was funny. As far as he was concerned, that was meant as a very serious insult. He glared at me a moment, but soon he was giggling along with us. It was hard for a hatchling to avoid catching the giggles when anyone else was laughing at him. Laughing so hard probably made his body hurt a little more, but the mirth would do him good.

When I finally stopped giggling, I couldn't help myself from piling on. Sometimes I was as bad an influence on Valar as his mother was. Then again, we were dragons after all, not some prudish human family. "Frankly Valar when your mother finds out, I shall be lucky if she doesn't bite my balls right off."

That made Valar laugh even harder, as I'd rather expected it would. For a few moments he alternated between giggling and wincing and laughing and cringing. Even Amaleen was laughing harder along with him, and when she finally collected herself, she put her hands on her hips, glaring at me.

"First you tell him not to say that, then you say it right back to him. How's he supposed to learn any manners?"

"No," I corrected her, grinning. "I told him us adults can say it."

Amaleen snickered a little more. "Well, if she does bite them off, don't expect me to be able to treat that particular wound. Perhaps you'd be less of an ass without them."

Valar peered up at her. "Whatsa ass?"

"Thank you very much, Amaleen," I said, thumping my spined tail against the grassy earth. "Yet another word he shouldn't know. You're as bad as my sister."

"You have a sister?" Amaleen pulled her frizzled hair back behind her head. "Was that the other female dragon who stopped in town with you, Valar and Valar's mother a little while back?"

"Yes, that was her. She took quite a liking to Korvarak. Don't know if you ever met him. Younger green dragon. I'm actually rather hoping she might move in with him, start a family of her own. It would be nice to have her around more often." I glanced down at Valar. "Aside from teaching Valar all those dirty words."

"Whatsa ass?" Valar asked again, repeating the question I was hoping he'd have forgotten.

"It's a human word for butt," Amaleen explained. "Though it can also be used as an insult. As in, your father can be a real ass." She smirked at me, then amended herself. "Though, little hatchlings like you shouldn't say it."

Valar groaned and put a paw over his face as if he just couldn't believe his luck. "I never getta say nothing!"

Amaleen smiled, and crouched down next to him. "At you seem to be in high spirits." She glanced back at me, grinning. "I'm always amazed by how quickly children can act like children again, even when they're in pain."

I smiled as well. I reached out with my paw and gently stroked Valar from his head down his neck to his wings. "Do you remember her?" I motioned to Amaleen with one of my wing-talons. "Do you remember visiting her?"

Valar gave a slow nod. He couldn't speak back then, but he seemed to remember her face. I was glad for it. After the way he reacted in terror to the armed guards that had first met us as I called out for Amaleen, I was afraid he might be struck with fear any time he saw humans now. Perhaps it would have been best for a young dragon to learn to stay away from them entirely, but part of me was glad he did not seem afraid of Amaleen.

"She gived me apples," Valar said, still speaking the common human tongue. "And she petted me and...oh!" Something else occurred to me. "She maded my blanket!"

"Yes," I said, smiling. "She did, along with Lenira."

"I want my blanket," Valar said, looking hopefully back and forth between us.

I gulped audibly, and turned my gaze towards Amaleen. I couldn't give it to him now, it was coated in blood. His blood. "I'll...try and find it," I said, unable to meet my son's gaze or tell him the truth.

Amaleen reached out and set her hand atop my paw. "I've got some of the apprentices trying to see how clean they can get it with boiling water and a variety of cleansing soaps and herbs and things. We'll do our best, Val."

Valar, listening astutely as always, huffed. "Clean faster."

I only smiled, and pressed my muzzle to Amaleen's cheek in affectionate thanks. She rubbed my muzzle a little, smiling back to me, and before I could stop myself, I'd flicked my tongue across her cheek. The gesture took us both by surprise, and she pulled her head back from my muzzle. For a moment, I was afraid I'd offended her, but she soon laughed, and playfully pushed my nose away with her hand. "Silly dragon," she murmured.

I smiled a moment longer, and then gestured at Amaleen with my paw. "Valar, do you remember her name? Do you remember what she's called?"

Valar peered up at Amaleen, racking his brain. His tail swept at the grass a few times as he tried to think back. Finally, he seemed to remember it. A big grin spread over his muzzle, and he thumped his paw against the ground as he called out Amaleen's name. Or, at least the name he remembered.

"Argleblarp!"

The two of us both burst out laughing, though Valar looked confused. He didn't know what was so funny. Amaleen gently rubbed under his chin till he'd tilted his little wedge shaped head back, purring ever so softly for her. She stroked her hand down his throat a little, grinning.

"Close enough," Amaleen said, still rubbing his neck. "It's Amaleen, actually."

Valar scrunched his muzzle up. "Argleblarp better."

Amaleen grinned and rose to her feet. "Perhaps it is." She reached out to rub my neck, as well. "Val, if you'd like to watch him for a while, I'm going to go get a hot bath, and a change of clothes. I'll have one of the apprentices bring some herbs for him to have that will help with his pain." She gestured at the dragonling laying upon his side. "They'll probably make him groggy again, though."

"That's fine," I said, gently stroking my son's neck with a paw. "I think we may take a nap together, anyway."

"Alright. Call for me if you need anything."

"And if I call for you while you're still bathing, and naked?"

"Then you'd damn sure better have a good reason, or Valar's going to see you get kicked in the balls by someone other than his mother."

Valar giggled to himself at that, putting a paw over his muzzle.

I only smiled. "Good to see you've not changed in too many ways, Amaleen. Will your apprentices be here in case we really do need anything while you're bathing?"

Amaleen nodded. "I'll have one of them stay till I'm out of the bath. But I'm sending the rest of them home to get some rest. You two should do the same, if you can."

"As should you, Amaleen."

Amaleen chuckled to herself. "If I wanted to get plenty of rest I wouldn't have been a healer, Valyrym. I'll see you two later."

Once she was gone, Valar peered up at me, smiling, instinctively returning to our native tongue while the human was gone. "Argleblarp's funny."

"She has her moments," I said, trying not to laugh. I didn't want to encourage him to keep calling her Argleblarp for to long. "How are you feeling?"

Valar grimaced, looking back at himself. "Like the word mother said I couldn't say."

"What word is that? I won't tell her you said it."

"Shitty."

That time I couldn't help but start laughing. "When did you hear that word?"

"From mother. When she was sick before she left."

"Oh," I said, chuckling. Dragons did not fall ill often, but when they did it was often violently so. Poor Kylaryn had caught something and spent a few days vomiting her guts out. She had to spend most of the day outside our home. I did vaguely recall asking her how she was feeling, and getting a single word answer in return. I hadn't realized Valar heard it at the time. Apparently there were a lot of things he heard and saw that he wasn't supposed to.

"Well, it's alright to say you're feeling shitty right now, Valar. But just this once."

Valar nodded as if making a solemn promise. He lay his head down on his paws. About that time, the apprentice walked out with a wooden bowl in his hands with some kind of herbal mixture in it. He came outside just in time to hear Valar slip back into the common tongue and say, "I feel shitty."

That seemed to surprise the apprentice. Then again, I imagine he'd never expected to hear such a thing come out of a hatchling's mouth. I glanced over at him and flashed him my teeth as if to say, keep it to yourself. He crouched down near Valar and I, and showed us the bowl. I sniffed at it, it didn't smell too bad. In fact, it smelled like apples more than anything else. That was despite the fact it looked to be filled with some kind of pasty, green-flecked mush.

"What the hell are you trying to feed my son?"

The apprentice gulped nervously. Though his nervousness was abated somewhat when Valar decided to mimic me. He thumped his paw against the grass, asking "What the hell are you feeding me?"

That made the human smile, and he offered the bowl to Valar. "It's apples, mostly. Amaleen says you like apples. They're been ground up with a mortar and mixed with herbs that are going to make you feel a lot better. They'll make you feel sleepy, too, but they'll help take away the pain."

The human set the bowl down. Valar sniffed at it, then pushed his short little snout in and began to lap at the contents of the bowl. He started to purr, a nearly feline sound at his age. I was glad to see he seemed to be enjoying it. The apprentice glanced at me as he rose back to his feet. "He can have the whole bowlful, there's enough herbs mixed in to help ease his pain and make him drowsy, but not so much that it will knock him out completely. At least, we hope not. We've never done anything like this for a dragon, before."

I flared up my spines, growling a little bit. "Next time, leave off that last bit. I'd be a lot more comfortable ignorantly assuming you know what you're doing." I waved my paw at him. "Thank you, now begone."

Valar looked up from the bowl, mashed apples all over his snout. "Thank you, begone." Then he shoved his face right back into the bowl.

"Good boy," I said with a grin, patting Valar's neck.

It was nice to see my son already taking after me and ordering humans around. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken pride in such a thing, and yet the cliché was true. Old habits did die hard. Beyond that I was glad to see he wasn't afraid of every human who approached him. It was not a lesson I'd wanted to have to teach him yet, but he was going to have to learn the difference between friends and enemies. And among humanity, the difference was often little more than a scale's breadth.

When Valar finished cleaning the bowl with his tongue, I pulled the bowl away from him and set him aside. Then I licked his own face clean as well. Normally he squirmed when I did that, but he was in too much pain to want to move any more than necessary. The apples tasted sweet, and did an excellent job covering up the otherwise bitter taste of herbs. I could not be certain but they tasted like Lenira's apples.

It was not long before Valar began to look a little drowsy. His eyes were soon little more than sleepy golden slits. He lay his head down on the grass, his tail swishing back and forth. I stroked his neck a little bit then lay my head down next to him. I could see him fighting sleep. Every time Valar looked like he was dozing off he opened his eyes wide once more. And each time he opened them wide it was not long before he was closing them again.

"Are you feeling better, Son?" I nudged him with my muzzle.

"Little bit," he murmured.

"Are you still in pain?"

"Little bit," he said again, closing his eyes once more.

"Is that all you can say right now?" I smiled at him.

Valar managed a groggy giggle. "Lil bit," he replied, his words gently slurred.

"Go to sleep, Love," I told him, licking his ears. I curled as tightly around my son as I could. "Go to sleep," I purred to him.

It did not take Valar any more coaxing to do just that. Nor did it take me long to fall asleep, either. We both certainly needed the rest. I dozed around my son for several hours, and my dreams haunted me. They were filled with blood and fear, pain and anger. Leering humans and bitter herbs, and bloodied blankets. I awoke with a cold shiver, all my scales clicking together. For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was, or why I was laying behind some human's house.

I jerked my head up, and found Valar staring back at me. It was still day time, though the sun had sunk much lower in the sky. Valar snaked out a paw and placed it on my nose. "It's okay, Father."

"What?" I blinked, unsure, and nudged his paw with my snout.

"You had bad dreams." Valar stared up at me with his paw on my nose, smiling at me. "But it's okay now."

That simple grace and care awed me. My son had nearly lost his life, had felt pain I could scarcely imagine, and lay there wrapped in bandages he could barely walk with. And yet he was the one telling me_it was alright? He was the one comforting _me over _my_nightmares? I licked his paw, and pulled my head away from him, blinking away tears.

Valar had strength in him I could not imagine. I knew in that moment that even if he could never fly again, somehow he would be alright. He would find a way to make his life work, to make his life worth living, and I would be there to support him every step of the way. Or, so I assumed at the time.

I sniffed a little, and turned my head back to press my nose to his, smiling at him. "Thank you, Valar. How did you know I was having a bad dream?"

"You was whining and whimpering." He licked my nose. "Was it scary?"

I found myself chuckling, and returned his lick. "Yes, it was scary. But you're right, it's okay now. How do you feel?"

Valar looked back at himself. "Hurty." He started to try and stretch out his injured hind leg, and I reached forward to gently take his hind paw in my grasp.

"Don't do that, Son. You have a lot of healing to do, and you don't want to open up your wounds again." I stroked his foot a little, then tickled his paw pads. He giggled, and I patted his lower leg. "When you walk, don't put too much weight on his leg."

Valar huffed, stretching his hind leg a little more despite my request that he not do so. "Feels funny."

"That's probably because you've got stitches in there."

"What's stitches?" Valar crinkled his snout, shifting his uninjured wing.

"That's a good question," I muttered under my breath. I knew the general idea of stitches, but as I'd never had them myself. Perhaps I should have let Amaleen put them in my leg just so I'd have a better idea of what Valar was going through.

"That's why I asked it," Valar said as only an adorably exasperated hatchling could.

I smiled at him, stroking his neck with a single paw. "Stitches are when you take thread and..."

"What's thread?"

"It's...a long piece of...something..." Damn it. Some human concepts were harder to explain to a youngling than others. Back in the clan, dragons very occasionally used heavy sinew thread to stitch up extremely deep wounds, though compared to the stitching Amaleen had put in my son I could not help but imagine ours were clumsy and barely functional by comparison.

"It's like Sinew." I cut him off before he could ask what sinew was. "That's the long bits of tough, connective stuff between bone and meat in our prey." At least, I thought that was what it was. It didn't matter if I was wrong, so long as Valar got the basic idea. "And thread is like small, thin sinew. And stitches are when you take heavy thread or sinew, and you use a needle..."

"What's a needle?" Valar sounded increasingly exasperated. I didn't blame him as I was feeling the same way.

"It's...sort of like a claw that's not attached to anyone's paws, and its only sharp at one pointed end." Valar seemed to have trouble picturing that, so I tried again. "It's like a very thin tooth."

"That's dumb." Valar giggled to himself.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, a needle can be used to push thread or sinew into wounded flesh a few times. Then you can tighten down that thread and it pulls your wounds shut. So, right now, you've got stitches in your wounds holding them shut."

Valar gasped, and his golden eyes went so wide I was afraid they were about to roll right out of his head like the large glass marbles I'd once seen human children playing with. I quickly realized I probably should have kept my big snout shut about the stitches, because he suddenly seemed panicky. He looked back at all his bandages as though imagining himself nothing but stitches beneath them.

"Do they...do they come out?" He whimpered a little, his voice filled with imaginatively irrational hatchling fears.

"Of course they come out," I said, misunderstanding his question completely.

"No!" He nearly shouted, grabbing at my paw. "Don't let them come out!" He whined to me, butting his head against me. "All my blood will come out again!"

That hurt my heart. I wanted to pick him up and hug him as tightly against my plated chest as I could, but I was afraid I'd only hurt him. So curled myself around himself, nuzzling and licking at his neck. He was starting to cry a little bit. Such was the way of hatchlings, I supposed. Happy one moment, terrified the next. Then again, I was hardly any better. Moments ago I'd been awed by his quiet strength and now I was nearly in tears myself over his own irrational yet understandable fears.

"No, Valaranyx," I murmured, licking at his ears. "That's not what happens." Of course, it could happen if they came out too early, or he popped them out getting too exuberant. "The stitches only stay in till your wounds are healed. They hold you closed so your body can mend itself. Do you understand?"

Valar just whined and clung to me, crying a little more. I wiped away his tears, and stroked him along his back where I could. Damn bandages seemed to cover half his body. "All the stitches do is make it easier for you to heal. So your body heals faster. Remember when you slipped off that boulder, and cut your tail when you landed against that sharp rock?"

Valar yelped as if the memory hurt, but then solemnly nodded. I touched his black tail, tracing the little gray scar there. "You remember how when you played too hard it started bleeding again a few times? Stitches just help it heal faster, so you can play again sooner. You just...can't run around or anything until it's time to take the stitches out. Alright?"

"Yeah..." Valar sniffed, hiding his face against my scales.

"Is he alright?" I hadn't noticed Amaleen watching us until her soft voice drew my attention.

I looked up at her, and found her in the doorway. She'd finally exchanged her bloodied night gown for a clean dress, cream colored with little blue flowers all over it. It looked a bit like something Lenira would wear. I liked it. It had a fluffy hem that swirled around her sandaled feet as she walked towards us. Now that she'd had a bath, her ever so slightly curly black hair looked softer, and she had it loosely pulled behind her head, better revealing her features, a bit sharper than the average Aran'alian.

I gave Amaleen a little smile, nodding. "I made the mistake of telling him about his stitches. He's...worried if they come out he's going to...well...let's just say he knows more about how much blood he lost than I'd realized."

Amaleen pursed her lips. "I understand. Maybe if he watches me give _you_stitches too he'll see it's not a big deal, and feel better."

I pinned my ears back. She was trying to use Valar's fear to talk me into getting stitches, too. "That's cold, Amaleen."

"And your leg is oozing." She gestured towards my bandage. It had a bit of a dark stain on it I hadn't noticed before.

I hissed. "Damn it."

"Damn it," Valar said, imitating me.

That made me chuckle. "You're not supposed to say that, Valar."

"Neither are you," he reminded me.

He was right, technically. Kylaryn had decided that if she wasn't supposed to say certain words in front of him, neither should I. Not that it ever really worked out. One of us always ended up blurting out something we shouldn't have. Usually we both did.

Amaleen smiled, and knelt down near Valar. As she began to stroke his neck, I was glad to see he didn't pull away from her. Not that I really expected him to, after all he hadn't minded her touch earlier. Perhaps he just instinctively knew that she was one of the humans he could still trust. I wondered just how much he remembered of the attack. He clearly knew how much blood he'd lost, but he'd seemed half conscious by the time I was flying him back home. Still, he'd been conscious enough to drag himself behind a tree with three crossbow bolts sticking from his body. He probably remembered far more of the attack than I wished he would.

I gave a heavy sigh, and nuzzled my son. "Would it make you feel better about your stitches to see me get some? So I can prove they just help you heal?"

Valar looked up at me, then looked at my own bandaged leg as though he'd just now realized I was wounded, too. After a moment, he gave a sullen nod. I gave Amaleen a dirty look, knowing she'd snuck that idea in there just so she'd get to stick me with a needle, too. Still, if it would help my son, I was willing to let her do it. And if my wound was still oozing now and then, perhaps it was for the best.

Smiling, Amaleen swiftly fetched her healers kit again. She spread out a little ivory-toned blanket, and before she could stop him, Valar rose up, limped over, and sprawled out on the blanket. She stared down at him, laughing.

"Sorry," I murmured. "He has a habit of laying on blankets."

"I like blankets," Valar said, matter-of-factly, making himself as comfortable as he could given the bandages across his many wounds.

"So I see," Amaleen said, giggling to herself. She quickly fetched another blanket, this one pale blue, and spread it out on the grass. Valar stared at it a moment, then rose up, limped over to it, and flopped down upon the new blanket instead. Amaleen stared at him as if in disbelief, and finally laughed again. "You're as bad as a cat, Valar. Pick a blanket."

"Okay," Valar said. He pushed himself up to his paws, grunting in pain. Then he lowered his head to take the second blanket in his teeth. He hobbled slowly back to the white blanket and eased himself back down. Soon he was laying sprawled out across both blankets Amaleen brought with her. "Both."

Amaleen put her hands on her hips. "You certainly do take after your father."

"Now that's that supposed to mean?" I asked her, a playful growl rising in my throat. "You'd better not be insulting my son."

"I'm insulting you, you old lizard," Amaleen said, swatting my black scaled neck. "He's just like you, laying claim to everything he sees."

"My blankets," Valar said as if confirming that he'd officially claimed them.

No, Val Junior, I don't think you need to lay claim to my bed of soft things. Why don't you claim something of Alia's, instead? What? Oh, no. You keep your cottony paws off my tub. Alia, don't encourage him.

"At least Valar's not claiming your entire backyard," I said to Amaleen, chuckling.

Valar lifted his head at that idea, and began to peer around himself as if just now noticing the entire beautiful expanse of Amaleen's back garden.

"Not yet, anyway," Amaleen muttered. She soon fetched a third blanket, and began to spread it out on the grass in front of me. As Valar eyeballed it, she shook a finger at him. "Valar, this is my blanket. This one belongs to me, and I need to use it to tend your father's wounds. So you can't have this one. Understand?"

Valar peered at her a moment, flared up his tiny spiny frills in thought, and then flattened them back against his head again. "Yes."

Amaleen smiled. "Perhaps he's not so much like you after all, it seems he actually understands the concept of existing ownership."

"Oh, get mounted, Amaleen," I muttered, flaring out my wings for a moment.

Amaleen ignored me as she set out her things upon the blanket. Soon, she was unwrapping the bandage around my wound she'd so diligently put there only a few hours earlier. When she'd exposed my wound, she had me hold my leg up so she could look at the injury in the sunlight. Before long she was cleaning it with a wet cloth.

Amaleen had me turn so that Valar could see the hole in my leg. Then she showed him the faintly curved needle she was going to use. It seemed surprisingly large, at least in my estimation. She threaded some sinew thread through the eye of the needle, and let Valar watch every step. In truth, I was almost as curious as he was. I hadn't been able to see her actually stitch Valar's wounds closed, though that was a good thing as I was in no condition to watch such an act at the time.

"Now, I'm going to push thos needle through your father's skin." She peered at my wound a little. "I may have to take some of these scales off around it, just to help close it up. Is that alright?"

"If you must," I muttered.

Unlike a true lizard or a snake our scales were not shed in patchy bunches or a single batch of it all at once. Rather, each scale was individually attached to our skin. Pluck one unexpectedly and we'd even shed a tiny droplet of blood. Though I lacked the expert medical and anatomical knowledge to know exactly how, I do know that our scales are able to transfer a variety of sensations to us. Whether heat or cold or gentle touch, pleasure or pain, and so on, we feel it all far more clearly than humans might realize. A dragon's scales are also able shift just a little, separating a tiny bit to help us cool off when we were hot, or tightening against us to help retain that heat when we were cold. We did sometimes shed them, when the individual scales died off or a new one began to grow to replace it.

Having them removed before they were ready was not exactly agonizing, but it wasn't exactly pleasant, either. I rather doubt that there was a comparable sensation to humans, but I suppose it is something like a human's hair. You feel it when the hair is touched because the hair is connected to the skin. As such, having a bit of body hair yanked out unexpectedly is not the nicest feeling in the world.

Nor was it pleasant when Amaleen suddenly began prying up scales around already angered and tender flesh and yanking them from my foreleg.

"Ow!" I yelped, hissing at her. "That hurt! Must you do that?"

"Don't be a baby, Val," she said, chastising me a little bit. "You'll set a bad example for your son." Then she smirked, admitting, "I could probably stitch you without removing any extra scales but I want to make sure Valar can see everything clearly."

Oh hush, Alia. I was not being a baby when you stitched me up, either.

Valar peered up at me with wide eyes. Grumbling, I forced myself to grit my teeth as Amaleen yanked a few more black scales away until she'd cleared enough room for her stitching needlework. She collected all the scales and handed them down to Valar. He grinned, took them in his paws, and sniffed at them. Then he nuzzled them. Giggling to himself, he was soon comparing one of the much larger scales against the tiny ones along his own foreleg.

"Father has big scales," he said, grinning to himself.

"Father has many big things," I said, grinning. "But parts of you will get bigger, too. Especially when you get a little older. Just wait till you start to get bigger..."

"Val," Amaleen cut me off. This time I was the recipient of her finger shaking. "Don't tell him about those! He's hardly old enough to be educated about puberty."

"I was going to say bigger horns," I stated, smirking.

Yes, Alia. I really was going to say horns.

"Oh..." Amaleen giggled to herself. "Sorry. I just assume you dragons are always talking about something else."

"We are," I said, laughing. "As long as hatchlings aren't involved."

Valar touched his own stubby horns with a paw. For once he didn't ask Amaleen about a word he was unfamiliar with. Which was good, as I rather doubted she wanted to explain the concept of puberty to a curious young dragon. I wouldn't exactly have wanted her doing so, either. Valar looked at the scales again, then set them carefully on the corner of one of his two new blankets.

"Are you claiming my scales now, Valar?"

Valar nodded. "Mine now."

"Alright, son," I smiled at him, reaching out to pat his head.

"Let me wash your wound with a bit of this numbing salve," Amaleen said. "Then I'll get it stitched up, and Valar can watch. It shouldn't take too many stitches."

"It had better not," I muttered, letting her guide my foreleg into a better position. She washed out my oozing wound with a wet cloth again. It wasn't that long ago she'd filled it full of disgusting looking goo, and now here she was washing it again to stitch it up. The wound was still very tender, and I could not help grimacing as she prodded me. "Must you jab at it like a hatchling prodding a strange carcass in the woods?"

"Do hatchlings prod a lot of carcasses in the woods?" Amaleen asked, grinning. She wiped my front leg down, and then began to gently apply some of the salve.

"Not if they know what's good for them," I said, making a point to address my reply to Valar rather than Amaleen. At least the salve she put against my wound caused some of the pain to fade away. Before long, I said, "It doesn't hurt much now. If you're going to stick that damn needle in me you as well do it now before I change my mind."

Laughing to herself, Amaleen nodded. She took the large needle again, removed the sinew thread, then made a show of putting it back through the needle's eye so Valaranyx could see just what she was doing. Then she grasped my foreleg near the wound, and pressed the needle through my flesh. It still hurt a bit, but not as bad as it would have had she not applied the salve. She passed it through one side of the wound first, then the other, then cut the thread with a tiny knife and tied it off. Then she repeated the action a few more times, each single stitch closing up the crossbow wound a little more till my flesh felt tight and pinched. It felt uncomfortable but at least the wound was held shut now.

Valar watched the process with wide eyes. I know he'd never seen me injured before. I hoped it was comforting rather than frightening to know that I was going through a similar process to himself. If nothing else, seeing the stitches put into my leg seemed to put him a little at ease about the stitches in his own body. Almost to at ease.

"Wanna see mine!" He said, rising to his paws, then wincing in pain.

"Not yet," Amaleen told him. "I have to change your bandages later, you can see your stitches then. But I'll take that to mean you're not as scared about having them any more."

Valar shook his head, and limped a little closer to me, leaving his conquered blankets behind for the moment. He tilted his head back and peered up at my stitched wound. I lowered my front leg a little, though it was already starting to ache from being held up in an awkward position. A trickle of blood ran from the fresh punctures, and Amaleen wiped it away with her spirit-soaked cloth. I hissed, digging the claws of my hind paws into the earth.

"See, Valar? All the stitches do is hold the wound closed so it heals faster. And once it's healed, we can take the stitches out and the wound will be gone." Amaleen smiled at Valaranyx and patted his head. "Then you'll just have some new scars. They'll make you look like a tough little dragon."

Valar peered at my leg a little while longer, then made his way back towards his white and blue blankets. He settled down upon them gingerly, whining. "Not scary, I guess. But feels funny." He started to stretch his leg out, and Amaleen stopped him. He huffed. "Don't like it!"

"Neither do I," I said, stretching my front leg a little till Amaleen swatted me on the nose. "Ow! What was that for?" I pulled my head back, narrowing my golden eyes at her as my nose smarted.

"If Valar can't stretch his leg out neither can you. You don't want the stitches...well, you know." She folded her arms under her breasts, glaring at me.

I did know. I didn't want the stitches to pop out and cause my wounds to open up again. But neither of us wanted to say that around Valar. "If I cannot stretch my leg, how am I to walk around?"

"Carefully," Amaleen said flatly, gathering up her things and packing them away. "If your son can do it without complaint, certainly you can as well."

"I seem to recall him complaining only moments ago," I said, giving Valar a little smirk. He giggled and nodded as if in agreement.

Amaleen was quick to match my little game. She smiled at Valar. "Since you're father's going to be a big crybaby, I suppose you'll have to be the strong one. You'll show him how tough a dragon can be, right? Putting up with your stitches and not complaining, because you're a tough little dragon, aren't you.'

"I'm tough!" Valar said, baring his fangs. He started to flare out his wings in an instinctive display of dragon aggression and strength, but stopped himself when the action started to hurt. "Ow," he said, then whimpered a little.

Amaleen walked over to rub his nose. "Aww, you're alright," she said, smiling. "Your father still thinks he's tougher than you, though. You can show him you're tough without opening up your wings can't you?"

Valar nodded solemnly. He rose to his feet, and limped towards me once more. I lowered my head to greet him, smiling. My smile faded the instant he walloped me on the nose with his heavily blue-marked paw. I yelped and yanked my head back, grabbing my nose. "Ow! Valar, don't hit on the nose, that hurts!"

"I'm tough!" He growled at me, hissing, clawing at the grass as though ready to pounce.

I glared down at him a moment. "How'd you like if I smacked you on the nose?"

He gave a mock gasp of horror. "You can't hit me! I'm little!"

I started to laugh, and Amaleen crouched next to him, whispering into his ear. Valar giggled and did his best to glare at me, trying to look threatening. Really, he only looked adorably mischievous. "You hit my nose and I'll bite your face off!"

"Bite my face off?" I turned my attention to Amaleen, shaking my horned head and flaring up my spines. "Just what are you teaching my son?"

"Only the basics," Amaleen said, waving before she headed back into her house to put her healers kit away.

"Well, I certainly don't want my face bitten off," I said, chuckling. With my uninjured leg I scooped Valar up, ignoring his indignant squawk of alarm. Gently, I set him back down upon his two seized blankets. "You shouldn't be threatening things like that to dragons bigger than you, Valar. What would your mother do if she saw you smack me on the nose?"

"Laugh." My youngling was as honest as he was correct.

"Alright, alright," I smiled down at him. "What would she do if you smacked_her_ on the nose?"

Valar gasped in disbelief. "I'd never hit mother!"

I wasn't sure what that said about me, but I hoped it just meant we enjoyed a special sort of father-son bond that happened to feature plenty of play fights. Rough-housing is the phrase you humans use, I believe. Then again, perhaps it was because the last time he'd smacked his mother on the nose, she'd smacked him back on his haunches, and promptly told him to smack me instead next time.

"I'm hungry," Valar announced, and then gave an angry sounding little growling noise. He thumped his tail against the blankets. He had little in the way of tail spines yet, just a few tiny nubs on either side of his tail. "Let's go hunting!"

I settled down on my haunches alongside him, curling my tail around his smaller form a bit. "I can't take you hunting right now, Valar. You need to remain here while you heal. And you have to try and stay still."

Valar made an odd little noise, a growling, mewling sound of hatchling frustration. "But I'm huuuuunngrrry!"

"I'm hungry too," I admitted, my own belly rumbling loudly as if on cue.

Valar butted my haunch with his head. "Go hunting!"

"I don't want to leave you here alone, son." I licked my nose, starting to wonder who was going to be more frustrated by being bound to this human city, my son or me. "Let me see if I can get Amaleen to find us some food."

I thought about that for a moment. How was I to get her attention? I could yell, but half the town was likely to hear me. She might think Valar was having a problem and come running out in a panic. And she'd probably get tired of her neighbors complaining about the noisy beast in her backyard always yelling her name. I decided to try a different approach, and slunk up to the back of her house. I crouched down and crawled under the thatched roof of the porch towards the back door. I made a fist, and emulating a gesture I'd seen humans use at some point in the past, knocked on her door.

Oh, very funny Alia. No, I did not knock the door off its frame. Though my knocking was certainly louder than any human. And, I did rattle the door against it's hinges a little bit.

Amaleen soon opened the door, and it must have startled her to see a dragon's face right on the other side of it. She yelped, jumped a few inches off the ground and stumbled back. Panting, she put a hand to her chest, shaking her head. "You brat," she murmured, still catching her breath. "Startled the life out of me!"

"Why?" I pulled my head back, my neck curling and brushing the roof of her patio. "Who did you expect to find knocking on your door so loudly?"

"I suppose that's a good point, but I still didn't expect you to be leering at me so closely. There's a difference between opening the door to a human face, and opening the door to a maw full of sharp teeth."

"I was not leering," I said, sounding as though I was moping as I pulled back a little bit. "Besides, if I understand the meaning of leering correctly, you would have to be unclothed for me to do that."

Amaleen smirked at me but did not rise to my bait. "What did you need?"

"Food," I said, simply enough. "We hunger."

From behind me, Valar added his mimicking agreement. "We hunger!"

Amaleen couldn't help laughing at the profoundly unthreatening way Valar said it. "Let me see what I can do about that."

In a short time, she had food delivered to us in her backyard. Between her apprentices and the guards who were watching over the front of her house, they were able to bring us quite a meal. Though I myself might have preferred freshly slain prey, Valar certainly didn't mind eating human food. And even an adult dragon like me had to admit that the variety of flavors and textures that the humans could create were certainly delicious.

Valar himself had a quite a liking for smoked fish ever since we'd taken him to visit Korvarak. So as soon as they set a platter of them down on the ground he bound towards them. Or, at least he tried to before I snatched his tail in my paw, and told him to go slowly. I ended up holding him by his tail the whole way just to make sure he didn't push himself too hard. But soon he was snout deep in smoky-flavored fish and purring up a storm.

In addition, they'd also brought a roasted boar around. I playfully told Valar that the boar was mine and the fish were his. Which of course caused him to abandon his fish and attempt to lay claim to my boar. Wounded as he was I couldn't exactly wrestle him for it the way he wanted, but I did eventually hoist him up and set him atop the boar to let him lay into it best he could. It was probably a bad idea considering he got juices and grease all over himself, and his bandages. But after all, Amaleen said she was going to change the wrappings soon anyway. Might as well get the most use out of them.

The humans brought us a few other assorted platters with tidbits of lamb, and oxen heart and kidneys. There were roasted vegetables and fresh fruit as well, though they were sadly lacking in golden-spotted apples. I should have to instruct them to bring more of those in the future. They even brought out a tray of sweets, from slices of cake and pie to smaller pastries and tarts. Everything was quite delicious, and thanks in part to the boar, we had more than enough to eat with some left over to snack upon later.

Amaleen asked what kinds of things we liked best, and I told her that the boar was my favorite, along with the pastries, and that the smoked fish had been Valar's favorite. I also told her that thanks to Lenira I'd always had a bit of a weakness for sausages of all varieties. Though I was rarely a fan of the human habit of taking a perfectly delicious food and wrapping it in something far less delicious, I had to admit sausages were fantastic. Juicy and fatty and delicious and now I'm making myself hungry.

I don't suppose there is any cake left, is there Alia? ...No? ...What do you mean, because I ate it all? If anyone ate it all, it was you and Val Junior. ...I most certainly did not get more cake on my muzzle than in my belly. You're right, I had best move on before I allow my stomach to override my brain.

Alia, I think I shall have you start bringing me snacks to stash away for moments like this.

Oh. Right. Moving on, then.

After we'd finished eating, Valaranyx was starting to hurt again. Amaleen mixed some more herbs into apples and gave them to him. Not long after he'd finished them, he curled atop his new blankets, and dozed off. I watched him sleep for a little while. I knew that I could still use the sleep as well, and yet I did not wish to nap. With things as they were, I was going to have a hard enough time clearing my thoughts well enough to sleep at night once I had finished scaling the wall of exhaustion. So for a time, I stayed awake and simply watched Valar sleep.

Amaleen came out and checked on us a few times. At one point, while she was chatting with me, another human came around the back of her house, searching for her. I had not seen this man before. Though, I realize that wasn't saying much as I'd hardly seen many of the townspeople up close.

This man though seemed to stand out a bit. He was larger and more muscular than the average Aran'alian. His face had a hardened, weathered appearance despite the fact he still seemed fairly youthful. I imagined it was the look of a blacksmith, his skin aged by the baking heat of the hearth he stood over every day. His black hair was cropped short to avoid lighting it on fire. He wore a blue and black tunic, with a golden insignia on his left shoulder, black breeches with silver threading and matching boots. A sword was buckled around his waist, and even as he approached Amaleen and gave her a little bow, he kept his fingers around the leather wrapped hilt of his weapon.

The man glanced at me, and gave me a little bow as well. "Dragon," he said, straightening up.

I was unsure about this man, but a smirk crossed my muzzle anyway. "Human."

Amaleen gestured at me idly. "Don't mind him, he's harmless."

"I won't," I said quickly.

That only made Amaleen smirk. She glanced at me, then gestured at the human. "He, on the other hand, is not harmless." She smiled a little more. "Dragon, this is Namar, our current head of City Defense. Namar, this is...well, unless he likes you just call him Dragon. Or perhaps Dread Sky."

I dipped my horned head, trying to emulate the greeting Namar had given me. I found myself smiling when Amaleen didn't offer him my name. "May your wings be strong and your flight true," I said, translating a dragon greeting into their tongue. I hoped I got it right. Though, I quickly wished I had not said it as it only reminded me of the flightless future that may yet await my poor son.

Namar didn't quite seem to know how to take that greeting. "Umm...and...the same to you, Dragon. Thank you."

Amaleen laughed a bit, shaking her head. "What can I do for you, Namar?"

Namar looked up at me. He seemed uncertain about discussing things around a dragon. Then he turned his attention back to Amaleen, shifting his weight from one foot to the other a few times. He drummed his fingers against the hilt of his blade. "They've called for another meeting."

Amaleen grimaced. "Where do they want to meet this time?"

"Same location as before."

Amaleen shook her head. "Bastards. Always want to have the advantage."

Namar nodded in understanding. I was glad someone understood. "There's a bit more, but..." He looked up at me again. "I'm not sure..."

"You've found them, then?"

"Possibly. The message we received was a little vague, might have been worried the bird would intercepted."

"Understood," Amaleen said. She took a deep breath, and sighed a bit. "Have the council convene at the hall. I want to hear what everyone has to say before we go any further."

Namar nodded, bowed to Amaleen, and then quickly turned on his heel and left. Amaleen pursed her lips, pacing a little bit, her dress swishing around her ankles. Now and then she glanced at Valar, who was still sound asleep. I slowly lowered my head towards her, and she turned back to me. Without a word, she put a hand on my cheek, gently stroking my scales. Slowly, she shifted herself, pressing her forehead against my muzzle. She took a deep breath, and sighed against my scales.

"Some days I wish I was as truly free as you dragons," Amaleen said, running her hand against my scales. I was unsure of her sudden affection. Though, I think at that moment, she just wanted a little of the comfort she'd already given to me. "To live as easily as you beasts, blissfully soaring in the skies. Carefree for all your life."

Still uncertain, I slowly lifted my paw and gently rubbed her back through her dress. She did not pull away. "Not always carefree. Not...anymore." I was quiet a moment, and she kept her face against my muzzle a little longer. "You taught me to be better than that, Amaleen."

Amaleen slowly lifted her head, and for a moment, there was a strange sort of sorrow shining in her brilliant blue eyes. She glanced towards my son. I'd been talking about Lenira, at first. I'd been truly carefree until then, until I learned the truth of the way my actions affected the world. How easily my actions could affect so many people for better, or for worse. Now that Valar was hurt, I had far more concerns than ever, and very few of them were about myself.

"I suppose nothing can last forever, can it, Dragon." Amaleen's voice was soft, almost distant. She rubbed my nose a little. "I am sorry, though." She swallowed hard, turning her eyes towards the sky as if seeking to ascertain the mysteries of the heavens. "I think you figured things out before I did. You realized how wrong you'd been, and you tried to do better. But me? I held onto old grudges long after I should have let them go, till they began to eat away at me. I should have forgiven you years ago, Dragon."

"Amaleen, you don't..."

"I forgive you, Valyrym." She took my muzzle in her hands, staring into my eyes. "I want you to know that."

I was starting to feel a little uneasy. These sounded like more than the words of a simple individual. They were starting to sound more and more like the words of someone uncertain about her future. About her people's future. As though she wanted to make amends in case she had little time left in which to do so. I already knew she'd forgiven me, though. I could see it in her eyes and I'd felt it in her touch when I brought Valaranyx here. I felt her forgiveness when she let me cry against her.

But I wanted her to know I accepted it. "Thank you, Amaleen."

Amaleen smiled, and pulled back. She started for her house, but I stopped her.

"What is going on, Amaleen?" I may be inexperienced in the affairs of men, but I was not a fool. Something in her had shifted when Namar came to talk to her. Whatever it was they were discussing, they were uneasy speaking of it around me. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"It's hardly the concern of dragons, Val."

I gave a resentful growl, waving a paw at my injured son. "I assure you, Amaleen, it is a concern of dragons."

Amaleen slowly turned back towards me, casting her eyes across Valaranyx's bandaged form. "...So it is, Val. I suppose in the end it would have been your concern, as well." She pursed her lips, and gave a long sigh. "There are men coming, Valyrym, men who want our lands. And we have to make a decision. Do we wish to continue to try and negotiate with them despite early failures, to try and find a solution we can all live with peacefully?" She spread her hands out in front of herself as if illustrating a growing gulf between her people and these invaders. "Or do we fight against them, protect our lands?"

"You should fight," I said, snorting. It was the dragon way. "You should let no one take from you what is yours."

Amaleen gave me a little smile. "I wish it were that simple, Val. Yet, I fear that may be the course we find ourselves taking. I also fear it may be a battle we cannot win. We would not be the first realm they have conquered by force."

I stared at Amaleen for a long time, rustling my wings. I gave a little sigh. "You're not just the Chief Healer anymore, are you Amaleen."

Amaleen's smile widened, but it held a bittersweet quality. Whatever position she now held, she was not entirely happy with the power. Responsibility was a difficult burden to bear. "No, Valyrym. I am not."

Amaleen vanished into her home, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Now I was starting to understand why I had seen so many men from foreign lands lately. They were scouting this place. They sought to conquer it. I realized now that those same men were responsible for wounding my son. For trying to take his life. Which meant I also knew my own course of action. The principle of blood for blood was clear.

I could have no peace with men who would murder a hatchling.

---

Chapter Three

---

Amaleen returned later that evening. I did not ask her about the business she had attended, or about the decisions her city may have made. I was not yet ready to pry too deeply about that. Even if I were to offer my assistance, her people may not have wanted it in this matter, anyway. I was sure they knew as well as I why those men had come to their lands. Sooner or later they would have to decide whether they wished to stand up for their lands and freedom or be cowed into submission.

If I was a more poetic minded dragon, I might have noted a special sort of irony in my thoughts. There was after all a time in which I myself had come to conquer these lands. It was to my benefit that the humans did not decide to stand up and fight against me. And yet, here I was silently hoping they would do just that against their own kind. I suppose there was a difference. In return for my rather carefree attitude towards ruling them I had offered them protection. I somehow doubted that even if these foreign humans offered the same they would truly uphold their bargain.

After Amaleen had returned, she changed all of Valar's bandages. It was not a pleasant process for him as it meant he had to move and shift himself into positions that would allow them to unravel the tightly wrapped rolls. It was a slow and arduous task, and Amaleen and I did what we could to keep him comforted. We could not give him much in the way of pain-relieving herbs at the time because the task was far easier while he was awake and mobile.

Once the bandages were off Valar was able to see his own stitches, and I got my first look at my son's wounds as well. He'd certainly outdone his father. The crossbow bolts they'd used were obviously the same, but the wound was quite relative. A small but painful injury to an adult dragon was a much larger, far more serious and agonizing wound on a hatchling. To say nothing of the fact poor Valar had three of them. Each wound, though well stitched, loomed much larger and more gruesome in my mind now that I'd seen them. Having see them first hand also made the lingering ache in my own leg far more tolerable by comparison to what my son must have been going through.

Valar held a sort of morbid fascination with his own wounded body. As Amaleen cleaned the stitched wounds as gently as she could, he whimpered and whined, but stared at the spirit soaked cloth she used. When the spirits got in around the stitches he hissed and howled, and now and then cried a little. Each sound of pain he made sent icy claws a little deeper into my heart. I tried to get him to stop looking, but he seemed unable to turn his gaze away. A few times I even had to stop him from trying to lick at the wounds in a vain attempt to sooth them.

To try and make him feel better, I kept telling him how tough he was. He soon played along, and claimed that his wounds were "better" than my own. He was certainly right about that, albeit in the worst way possible. I also told him that when he was older, females would like all his scars. Then I amended myself and told him that just meant females would think he was tough, as I wasn't yet ready to explain just what female dragons did with males when they really liked them.

"Good!" Valar smiled, weakly thumping his tail against the ground. "Mother will think I'm tough now!"

"Yes, she certainly will," I said, unable to help chuckling as he got almost entirely the wrong idea.

My laughter faded though when I realized while Kylaryn might think her son was strong for bearing his wounds so courageously, she was just as likely to think I was an increasingly unfit father for letting him be wounded by humans in the first place. It was not a conversation I was looking forward to having with her.

As the sun settled lazily against the horizon, and Valar was once more wrapped in fresh bandages, Amaleen had dinner brought to us. I wasn't very hungry but as Valar filled his belly with more smoked fish, I forced myself to eat a bit of meat as well. Then for dessert Valar had his evening dose of painkilling apples and herbs. We spread out his blankets for him, and before too long he was sprawled atop them, fast asleep.

Once Valar was slumbering, Amaleen drew me aside and bid me to wait for her. She vanished into her home, and a few minutes later she returned. Amaleen held a long scroll case in her hands, nervously tapping one end of it against her palm. She stared at me for a while, and I waited silently. If she had something important to say I did not wish to rush her.

"We think we know where the survivors from the attack on your son are," Amaleen finally said, her blue eyes meeting my golden ones.

I tensed, my breath caught in my throat. I had almost forgotten that there were survivors. I wanted to slay them all the night it happened, but I had no time to spare killing those who were no longer a threat. Further delays might have cost Valar his life. I did not think to be so lucky as see those particular men again, and yet the people of Sigil Stones seemed to have found them for me.

"We suspect they've already sent word back to their people that they lost men to a dragon," Amaleen said, rubbing the scroll case against her palm. She pursed her lips. "To our dragon. They do know we have a dragon watching over us, after all."

"Do they," I said flatly, my eyes unfocused. My wings trembled, and my claws were slowly unsheathing themselves.

"We've had scouts everywhere we can lately, Val," Amaleen explained, glancing away for a moment. "If they've already sent word about the attack, then there's nothing tactical that can be gained from finishing them off."

"What's in the scroll case, Amaleen?" I flicked my tail against the ground, swallowing hard.

"A map," Amaleen said simply. She began to unscrew the top. "It won't heal his wounds, Val." She slowly withdrew a heavy canvas map and began to unroll it. "It won't change anything. But, if he was my son..." She glanced over at Valaranyx, and then slowly offered me the cloth map. "I'm going to give you this. What you do with it is your business."

"You know what I'm going to do with it, Amaleen."

Amaleen did not withdraw the map. As I took it from her paws, she said, "I'll be here for you when you return."

I studied the map a moment. It was a detailed overview of the entire area, inscribed upon soft canvas for durability. I could fly this land blind, so I recognized all the landmarks and mountains on the map in an instant. There was an area that had been circled on it with fresh ink, a small pass to the south east. I knew the place. It would not be hard to find.

"Watch over Valaranyx," I said, returning the map to Amaleen.

Amaleen carefully rolled it back up and returned it to the scroll case. "I will."

I stepped away from her, and spread my vast black wings, then hesitated. I gazed over at my bandaged son, slumbering peacefully. "If he wakes, don't tell him what I've gone to do."

"I won't," Amaleen promised me.

For a moment, and only a moment, I wondered if I should really go through with something I wouldn't even want my son to know about. Then I thought about how he would feel one day, if his own son was the one injured. I knew this was my only choice. My only option. Blood for blood.

Looking back, it is easy to say I had other choices. Other options. Anyone could say that. When you gaze back at the road you have traveled all your life, it becomes all to simple to say you could have traveled another path. But in the moment, filled with fury, or fear, the worst choice to make so often seems the only option. I had always followed the way of dragons, despite the fact I knew somewhere in the back of my mind it was our ways that so often lead to our downfall.

Peace and mercy were not unknown concepts to a dragon. But nor were they concepts that came without condition. If you shared peace with a dragon, he would share it with you. If you were merciful to a dragon, he would be merciful to you. The opposite also held true. So often when men thought we acted like monsters towards them, it was because they did not seek to show us peace, nor mercy, and so we would not show it to them. Wrong us, and we are creatures of terrible vengeance. Cruelty begat cruelty. Blood begat blood.

I had no mercy in my heart for these men.

"If I am not back by mid morning," I said, turning my gaze back to Amaleen. I found myself unable to say anything else. It was not that far a journey for a dragon, and we both knew that if I had not returned with the rising sun I would never return at all.

"I know," Amaleen said. She came forward, and to my surprise put her arms around my neck, and hugged me a moment. "Be safe, though."

I found myself smiling despite the grimness of the task I had set myself to. "I shall do my very best, Amaleen."

Amaleen moved aside, and I ran a few steps across her backyard, then leapt into the sky. My wings carried me swiftly into the darkness that had settled in over Sigil Stones. There were still people out and about in the evening. Laughter echoed into the skies from raucous taverns. A few people shouted at the sight of me, though whether they were wishing me well or cursing my presence I did not know. In a few wing beats I was already sailing high above the outer walls of the town.

I set my destination in my mind, and as I traveled my fury grew. I had little time for anger earlier, when the attack first happened. I hadn't had the time for anything but panic, and the desperate attempt to get my son to someone who could help him. Now, though, that Valar was slowly recovering, now that I was alone in the skies, anger was all I had. It grew in me like a smoldering ember deep in a dry thicket. The longer I flew, the hotter that ember burned until all at once it erupted into furious rage and consumed that thicket in blistering fire.

I roared my fury to the winds that they might carry the sound of my vengeance to all corners of the world. Let all of existence know the righteous ferocity of dragon avenging the wounds of his son. I thought perhaps my wrath would cool some before I found the humans camp but if anything it had only grown hotter.

They were camped at a small pass carved through a series of rocky hills. It was a little ways away from my road, essentially a dry creek bed that had long ago cut its way through the hills. It was a good camping spot so long as it was not raining. It offered shelter from the wind and was hidden enough to keep sleeping travelers out of easy sight of brigands and other dangers.

It was not, however, going to keep them safe from a dragon.

There were four horses tied up nearby, upon a thicket of grass spread between several jagged, rocky outcrops. The humans had set up several drab canvas tents inside the roughly vertical walls of the pass. Embers smoldered in a faintly orange glow, all that remained of a campfire placed between the tents. The hills around the pass were coated in grass and stubby, windswept brush, and the stone once cut by water was layered in gray and red. By the time I'd reached the place everything was cast in the same shades of nighttime gray, illuminated only by a sliver of moon as though even the sky did not dare watch what I was about to do.

They had a single sentry set up at the end of the pass, where the hills slowly smoothed out into the sprawling meadow that eventually abutted up against my road. By the time I dropped from the sky to land in front of him, it was far too late for his screams to save anyone's life. I had no intentions of letting this deteriorate into a battle. These men had not given my son a chance to fight for his life, and I was not going to give them one, either.

The sentry shouted in terrified alarm as I landed in front of him, but before he could even finish drawing his blade I had snatched him up in my front paws, pinning his arms to his chain mail covered body. In so doing, I leaned back up on my haunches and tail, then twisted my body around and hurled the man as far as I could. He arched through the air, the flailing of his arms and legs as comical as it was futile. His shrieks ended briefly when he hit the ground quite a distance from me, rolling across the grass. After a moment he cried out again, and struggled to his hands and knees. Badly wounded, he began to slowly crawl away.

I turned my attention to the other three men, still in their tents. I could hear them rustling around, likely going for weapons or armor before they came out to face me. They were not going to have the chance. I took a deep breath, and compressing the glands that created my fire, spat flame across all three tents. Despite the fact they ignited in an instant I poured fire upon them until my breath gave out. The air inside the tents quickly grew hot enough to sear throats and lungs alike. The flames themselves swiftly spread to bedrolls and the men who'd been slumbering inside them.

With little remorse, I turned away from the men slowly burning to death, and left their agonized screams behind me as I stalked towards the injured sentry. His attempts to escape despite what were likely grievous injuries were admirable, a tiny speck of light in an otherwise black soul. As I neared him, I saw him coughing, spraying blood upon the grass. I followed a wet trail of crimson splatter and droplets across the meadow until I neared him. I reached out with a paw, grabbed him by the hip, and forced him over onto his back.

The man gasped, nearly choking on blood. I pressed a paw to his chest to hold him down, and he weakly held up his hands as if trying to offer surrender and ward me off at the same time. His fingers were bloodied, they trembled with fear. Blood caked the crown of his head as well, making his hair appear darker than it really was. His skin was a bit paler than the humans I was used to dealing with. I could not see the color of his eyes in the moonlight, but I could see the fear shining in them like twin beacons of horror.

"Please..." He stammered in a tongue I had not heard used in some time. It was one of several human languages my parents taught me. Though it was not the dialect commonly used across my lands. "Please...have mercy..."

"Mercy?" I hissed at him, using his own language. "You showed no mercy for my son, yet you expect it from me?"

Confusion flickered in his eyes. He hadn't even realized I was the father of the hatchling they'd nearly murdered until now. "I...I'm only...a messenger. I didn't even...have a weapon...until today!"

At least he confirmed he was with the group that attacked my son. I had no idea if he was telling the truth. It was after all possible that he had only been a messenger. After they'd lost several of their men to my wrath they might have conscripted him into a more active role until they were able to return home. It did not matter to me. He was an accomplice to my sons injury, and as far as I was concerned he may as well have fired the crossbow himself. Still, I would give him the benefit of the doubt and allow him a measure of mercy I had not shown the rest of them.

"Then I shall make your death quicker than the others," I said, simply.

Before he could beg me any further, I lifted my front paw, unsheathed my claws and brought them down swiftly and forcefully. I split his skull apart, and rent his brain into several pieces. I should have ended it there. The man was dead in an instant, and though the flickering, crackling sounds of fire continued behind me the screams had faded. But I hardly felt better, and rage still held my heart in a white hot vice.

Before I could stop myself I hit the man again, my claws tearing his lower jaw from his skull. Then I hit him again, and again, and again. I roared as I struck the man over and over. When I had finally worn myself out, and stood panting over the ruined corpse of a man I was nearly as bloodied as he was. When I caught my breath, I gazed at what was left of him, and saw it was barely even recognizable as a man.

I sunk my claws into the center of the mangled corpse, and dragged it back towards the pass. In my wake I left a bloody trail smeared across the grass. When I was close enough, I tossed the last corpse onto the remains of the fire. I took a deep breath, and sprayed another stream of flame across it to make sure it would burn as well. They deserved to be left to rot. A pyre seemed too good for them but I did not want the vultures to choke on their noxious flesh.

As I turned to leave the scene of my revenge, I spotted a flag staked up near the now-terrified horses. It was the same flag I'd seen hooked into the barding of the messenger's horse before the attack. For a moment I was going to burn it as well, but then I thought better of it. It would serve as a fitting trophy, and it might help Amaleen's people make their decision to see the flag of their enemy in my claws.

I stalked towards it and plucked it from the ground, ignoring the whinnying horses. They stomped their hooves, rolled their eyes and pulled at their tethers. Perhaps they would break free. For a moment, I considered serving their leads with my claws to let them have their freedom. But I was afraid that in their fear they might attempt to defend themselves against me, and I did not wish to take a hoof to the skull. Besides, it was clear Amaleen's people knew of this camp, I imagined her own scouts might wish to come and help themselves to free horses.

With the flag of my enemy in my grasp, I returned to the air. On the way back to Sigil Stones, I felt a little bit of guilt now and then. Not for slaying the men, but for making it so painful for three of them. Yet each time I felt that way, I forced myself to gulp those feelings back down. I told myself they deserved such a painful end for very nearly inflicting an even slower, more terrifying death upon my son. It was only thanks to Amaleen that his own injuries had not led to such an end.

By the time I reached Sigil Stones, the far eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten from black to midnight blue. When I landed in Amaleen's back yard and set down the flag, I realized it was now covered in bloody paw prints. I'd almost forgotten just how much blood was on my paws after I beat that man to pulp. Somehow I'd gotten a clear, crimson print right across the multi-towered keep on the center of the flag. That must have been where I'd first grabbed it.

I slowly lifted one of my paws. The human's blood upon it was now dry. It made me sick. I always had blood on my paws lately. In a moment of sick fascination and strange sorrow, I wondered how much more blood it would take before the crimson stains upon my black scales became permanent.

Shortly after I landed, Amaleen came out to see me. At the time I thought my arrival had woken her. Looking back, I realize now she had waited up the entire night to make sure I returned to my son. To make sure I returned to her.

Yes, Alia. I know you would have done the same thing. I was thankful for it then, and I am thankful for it now. Yes, I imagine she felt quite conflicted about the fact she found herself starting to care about me, as well. I was obviously not someone she ever expected to see as a friend.

Amaleen came to me, and reached out to caress my cheek in a hand. She looked down at the flag I'd dropped on the ground, and then she looked at my paws. She rubbed my nose, and then without a word lead me to the stream across from her house. She brought a cloth with her, and she bid me to lay down upon the soft grasses at the edge of the water. There, she scrubbed my paws with the cloth until they were clean. Then she washed every other drop of blood that had splattered my scales until there was no trace of it. She cleansed the blood from my hands without an ounce of judgment.

I realized then that Amaleen would never judge me again.

When I was clean, she walked me back into her backyard. I curled around Valaranyx, careful not to wake him. Though I felt tears brimming in my eyes, I was not sure why. I forced myself to gulp down my sobs, because I did not want to wake my injured son. Amaleen stroked my muzzle. I sighed, and lay my head against Amaleen's lap.

Silent, we watched the sunrise.

---

Chapter Four

---

After my vengeance, I dedicated my waking moments to helping Valar cope with his wounds. I had not expected to feel better after murdering those men, and that lack of expectation was accurate. Yet I was glad they were dead. If that made me a monster, then so be it. Whatever the case, Valaranyx needed me now more than ever. His first full week or so of healing was going to be the hardest.

Dragons healed swiftly when compared to humans, especially young dragons. And yet the grave nature of Valar's wounds meant he still had a long recovery ahead of him. I was not yet going to tell him his right wing may never work right again. I simply did not have the heart to tell him something so terrible right now. For now, I wanted him to concentrate on healing. At least as much as a hatchling could bring himself to concentrate on any one thing.

For the first week, he was often in too much pain to be very active. It was a blessing and a curse for both of us. I certainly did not want him bounding around everywhere and opening his wounds again. Yet watching him whimper and limp from one place to another hurt me nearly as much as it hurt my son. Several times I had to stop him from scratching and biting at his bandages. Between the unpleasant tightness of the stitches and the scratchy texture of tightly wrapped gauze his wounds were bothering him even when herbs had taken the edge off the pain itself.

It did not take Valar long to realize that while the herbs mixed into the smashed apples eased the worst of his pain, it also tended to put him to sleep for a while. So it wasn't long before he stopped eating so much of them. He found that if he only ate half a bowlful, it would help lessen his pain but also allow him to stay awake.

"Don't wanna sleep," he said, growling at me when I tried to get him to finish off the bowl. "Wanna play!"

"I know, Valar." I said, sighing, my spiny crests drooping. "But you can't really play right now. You need to stay still and rest."

"Wanna plaaaaaay," Valar whined.

We compromised with a new game in which Valar wouldn't have to move very much. I had Amaleen carefully lift him up onto my back, and made him promise not to squirm around while he was up there. Then I let him ride upon my back, and issue me commands. I let him make believe he was the dragon who had conquered these lands and I was just his subordinate, taking him all around his territory to see just what it was he now ruled.

I tried not to trample anything of importance as I walked around Amaleen's back garden. I did my best follow the trails already cut through the soft grass, and beneath the towering trees. Tall as some of the old oaks were, they must have been here almost as long as the town. Hell, those trees were probably older than I was. They certainly dwarfed me. I paused, peering up at one. I moved beneath some of the boughs, and Valar stretched a paw above himself to try and snatch at some of the vaguely hand-shaped leaves. He managed to get hold of one and yanked it off.

"My tree," he said, claiming it as though that stolen leaf were a trophy of a great victory over the forces of nature themselves.

"Yes, yes," I murmured, chuckling. "Your tree. Just don't stretch far, alright? Remember, you're supposed to stay still."

"Being still is boring," he whined, then swatted at the back of my neck. "Bad Father! You gotta do what I say remember? You're a obordinate!"

"I think you mean you're a subordinate," I said, chuckling.

"Nooo," Valar said, as exasperated as a hatchling could be. "You are!"

"Ah, yes, of course," I grinned back at him. "So where to next, my Alpha?"

"Over there!" Valar pointed, the leaf half crumpled in his paw.

"As you command," I said, making a show of bowing my head. Without looking back as I started walking, I added "And don't you even think about eating that leaf."

I didn't have to look back to know he was slowly pulling the leaf away from his muzzle. I had already learned there were few things in the world that hatchlings wouldn't try and eat at least once. And if they didn't like it, they'd usually try it again just to be sure. I soon felt Valar shifting again as though he was trying to be stealthy about putting the leaf into his snout.

"You want your tongue to get another rash?"

Valar hissed at the idea, and tossed the half-crumpled leaf to the ground. It unfurled as it fell, fluttering to the earth. "No! Yucky gross leaf!"

"You're the one who was going to eat it."

"Nuh uh!" Valar swatted at the back of my neck. "You were!" He giggled to himself as though he'd just invented what was likely to be among the world's oldest retorts.

"Just remember how your tongue felt after you tried to eat that plant your mother and I both warned you not to." I shook my head, laughing. Poor Valar. At least we'd pulled it out of his muzzle before he could swallow it.

We soon came to the white arched trellis that Valar had pointed to. A heavy layer of vines with spiky leaves, and beautiful purple flowers covered the whole thing. I already knew Valar wanted to try and climb on it. I think he missed climbing up things even more than he missed running. So I made sure to angle myself in such a way that he couldn't reach it. I didn't think he'd try jumping while he was injured, but I didn't want to let him close enough to reach out and grasp it, either.

"That's mine," he said, pointing to the trellis. He waved his paw at it. "Closer!"

"No, no closer," I told him sternly.

"But it's miiiine!"

"I know, but you can't climb it. And don't try and tell me you weren't going to."

"I will when I don't got no dumb stitches," he muttered under his breath.

"Very well," I agreed. "You can climb it when you don't have any stitches."

Hopefully he'd forgot by then. Otherwise I'd have to let him climb it when Amaleen wasn't around, as I don't imagine she'd approve. At the moment, she was trailing behind us, watching Valar have his fun. She smirked when I promised to let him climb it later, but she probably assumed I wouldn't actually do it. That was her mistake to make.

Valar peered around till he spotted her. Then he called her name. "Argleblarp!" Well, perhaps not her real name. I knew he could say Amaleen now because I'd heard him do so. Now I think he was just calling her Argleblarp because it tended to amuse the two of us more than it amused Amaleen. Perhaps I shouldn't have been encouraging him to act like a brat, and yet I could not help doing so.

"Argleblarp!" Valar called again, giggling. When Amaleen finally turned towards him with a questioning look, he pointed to the trellis with his paw. "That's mine now!"

"You think so, do you little Varglenargle?"

That purposefully mangled name surprised Valaranyx so much he forgot all about asserting his claim to the trellis. He gasped and stared at her with wide golden, silver-flecked eyes as if truly shocked someone else could twist up a person's name so completely. Finally, he had himself a little fit of giggles, wildly shaking his head. "That's not my name!"

"And Argleblarp's not mine name, either. So we can either call each other our real names, or call each other silly names."

"Silly names!" Valar answered in an instant.

The look that crossed Amaleen's face told me she'd misjudged my son's reaction to her little gambit. I smirked at her. "That really shouldn't have surprised you, Argleblarp."

"Oh no," Amaleen shook a finger at me. "Not you, you dirty lizard. Valar can get away with it because he's small and adorable. But you? You're big enough and ugly enough for me to wallop in a very tender area. Again."

I instinctively dropped my tail a little bit, chuckling. "You're quite fond of me reminding me of that, aren't you."

"Yes," Amaleen said with a smile. "I am."

Valar soon pointed out a new destination, and I began to pick my way towards it, trying to follow a trail that was entirely too narrow for my paws. As I walked, I smirked back at Amaleen. "I am pretty big though. But I'm not that ugly."

"No," Amaleen said, moving to walk just behind me. She rested her hand atop my tail, between several spines. "You're not."

That made me smile.

Valar directed me to the pond that occupied one of the back corners of Amaleen's garden. As soon as we reached it, Valar pointed to it and claimed it as his own. The two of us did not argue. I told him it was a fine piece of terrain to add to his collection. It was a beautiful little pond. The stream that fed it flowed in through one corner of Amaleen's land, just under a little archway built into the fence that surrounded her property. The stream was only a few feet wide, and little more than a foot deep at most. But a small dam constructed of rough hewn hunks of stone pulled from one of the taller hills had created a picturesque pond. It would have been deep enough for Valar to swim in, but not deep enough for me to do the same. Colorful fish darted here and there around the pond's edges. A few larger fish with darker tones soon surfaced, their rounded mouths gaping at the surface as if begging for treats.

As it turned out, they were. Amaleen dashed back to her house and returned with an old loaf of half stale bread. She began to break bits of it off and toss them into the water. Before long the larger fish were gulping down mouthfuls of bread, occasionally swirling the surface of the water with their tails. Now and then a bit of bread landed nearer the shore, and the schools of smaller, more brightly colored fish swirled around them until they'd had their fill as well.

Valar was entranced. I wasn't sure if he was more fascinated by seeing someone actually feeding the fish or just by getting to see his favorite meal in it's still living, pre-smoked form. "I want that one!" He pointed to one of the larger fish, then swatted my neck. "Make it smoked!"

"Those are Amaleen's fish," I told him, laughing a little.

"Oh," he replied, and quickly turned his attention to Amaleen. "Argleblarp! Argleblarp!" Amaleen pretended to ignore him, and finally he gave a little sigh. "Amaleeeeen!"

"Yes, Valaranyx?" She smiled at him, flicking another bit of bread into the water.

"I want that one!" He pointed to it again. "Make it smoked now!"

Amaleen shook her head. "You can't just magically make something smoked. It takes a lot of time, Valar."

"Then start now!"

Amaleen looked as though she wanted to chastise him for being bratty, but given the enormous, hatchling-teeth filled grin he was currently giving her, she found herself laughing at him instead. "No, Valar. These fish are pets. They're not food."

"What's a pets?" Valar, asked, scrunching his muzzle.

"It's an animal you keep alive and take care of, rather than eating it," Amaleen explained.

"Why?"

"Because humans are strange," I told him.

"Oh," Valar replied, nodding in understanding.

"It is not because we're strange," Amaleen argued. "Pets are animals you come to care for, because they make good companions, and loyal friends."

"Oh," Valar said once more, as if he understood that just as well.

"So you're attempting to tell me that these fish make loyal companions?" I scoffed at her, flexing my wings a little. "Shall I scoop one out of the water, and toss him into your house to keep you company tonight?"

"Alright, so fish aren't the best example." Then Amaleen threw a handful of breadcrumbs at my face. I yelped in surprise, pulling my head back as the bits of bread bounced off my pebbly scales. "But they're still mine and I still care about them and you're still not eating them."

Valar giggled and held out his paw. "I bread too!"

Amaleen peered up at him. "This is stale bread, Valar. It's just for feeding the fish. Do you want to feed the fish?"

Valar nodded and smiled. "Yeah!"

"Alright." Amaleen smiled and broke off a few pieces of bread, then stretched her arms up and carefully put the bread into Valar's paw. As he wrapped blue fingers around the bread, Amaleen told him what to do. "Try and throw it out into the center of the pond."

Valar, as I suppose I should have expected, did no such thing. Instead he emulated Amaleen by immediately throwing his entire pawful of bread right into my face. It bounced off the side of my snout and Valar burst into another little hatchling giggle fit. I lifted my paw to rub bread crumbs from my eyes while Amaleen did her best to try and keep from laughing at me. She failed miserably.

"I bread more!" Valar held his paw out for more.

"Valar, I think the more giggly you get the more words you start dropping." She broke off some more bread, then held her hand halfway out to him. "You're not going to throw it at your father again are you?"

"No!" He said as if completely innocent of such a crime.

Amaleen handed him more bread. And in a shocking move that surprised exactly no one, he threw it directly into my face. That time Amaleen lost it. She started laughing so hard she nearly dropped the damn bread. I got a chunk of it in my nostril, and started sneezing, and that only caused the woman and my son to laugh even harder. Valar held out his paw, and not only did she put more bread in it, but she threw her own handful of it at me the same time he did.

"Alright, alright!" I cried out, laughing along with them and shaking my head. "Truce! I've got bread in my ears!"

Hmm? Yes, Val Junior, you're right. Alia's people do have a habit of throwing things at me and teaching my young to do the same.

While I tried to clear the breadcrumbs from my ears, nose and eyes, Amaleen taught Valar to feed the fish properly. Thanks to his position atop my back along with his youth and bandages, he was hardly in any position to hurl breadcrumbs like a champion breadcrumb hurler.

Alia, if you don't like the similes I manage after I've been up all night and drinking rum heavily, you're welcome to substitute your own. What? I am not like the village idiot.

Valar and Amaleen fed the fish the rest of the loaf of bread. Valar loved it. He giggled in delight each time another fat bronze and reddish fish came up to the surface to suck down bits of bread before vanishing with a flourish of fins. When the bread was all gone he demanded more, but Amaleen and I thought he'd probably had enough excitement for one day. I know I'd had enough bread thrown at my face for one day.

At night he was able to lay upon his favorite blanket again. Amaleen's people had done an admirable job cleaning it, though they certainly hadn't been able to remove the stains of so much blood entirely. Faded reddish brown blotches would always mar the quilt now. It hurt me to look at it, in my mind I still saw it completely soaked with Valar's blood. So much blood. How he'd hung on so tightly to life I'd never know. Nor would I know just how Amaleen had worked her own miracle.

Though it hurt me to see the blanket, Valar scarcely even noticed the stains. When Amaleen brought it out to him to ask him if he still wanted it, he snatched it from her hands and nuzzled his face into it. By the time he'd flopped down atop it, still nuzzling it, the answer was clearly yes. I was glad he wasn't bothered by the faint stains of blood. I wondered if he even realized the blood was his. He'd probably been too deeply in shock to even realize I'd wrapped him in his own blanket on the way home.

Even if he hadn't wanted it any more, I never would have thrown it away. I would have folded it up and put it away somewhere safe in my collection. It was one of the few connections to Lenira I had, and I never wanted to lose it. It also reminded me of the way Amaleen had once viewed me, and that was a feeling I knew I should hold tight to myself. I saw no other way to better myself than to remember the monster I once was. When Amaleen brought that blanket for Valar, her opinion of me began to change. So to did my opinion of myself.

I curled around Valar and slept. My dreams were easier on me that night than they were the night before, and I slept well. Gods know I needed it. Together Valar and I both slept in the next morning. I finally awoke, stirring around Valar, and he awoke as well. Then he demanded he be the first one to go and pee in the corner of the yard, claiming when I went, I peed too much and there was never any dry ground left for him to stand on.

Valar always seemed to find a way to start my day off with a smile and a laugh.

That afternoon, Amaleen and I took Valar into town. Amaleen claimed that quite a few people had been concerned for him. A lot of questions were flying around about who had harmed him, why they'd done it, and how badly hurt he really was. Apparently the little one had made quite an impression on the town when I'd first brought him here. Even years later they still remembered him.

I let Valar ride on my back again. He wanted to walk, but I still didn't want to let him go very far on his own. There was just too great of a chance he might decide to try bounding off somewhere, only to rip his wounds open in the process. Beyond that, I knew he was still in a lot of pain. Even walking a short distance had him whimpering and whining. Now and then he tried to stretch his wings out and I had to stop him, just as I had to stop him any time he tried to play too exuberantly.

Since we'd already covered Amaleen's backyard in a previous game, I asked him if he'd be brave enough to go and visit the market with us so we could find him some treats. He was a little pensive at first. Amaleen and her assistants were one thing, but a whole area filled with humans? That frightened him a little more now than it would have before. But he wasn't about to let his father show more bravery than he did, so before long Amaleen had placed him upon my back, and we were making our way down the street.

Valar was quiet for a while, clinging tightly to my back. Now and then I glanced back at him to make sure he was doing alright. I soon realized he was staring at the guards who were escorting us. I knew he hadn't forgotten that the men who hurt him where wearing armor. It was going to be hard for him to realize that while some men in armor were dangerous, others were friends. Amaleen and I did what we could to allay his fears, but any time one of the guards came over to try and say hello to him, or pet his head, he quickly shied away, whining until I moved him out of range. I felt a bit sorry for the guards. Yet that sorrow was dwarfed by that I felt for my son.

The market was even bigger now than I remembered it. It sprawled out all around the circular plaza in what was roughly the center of town. Stalls of all shapes and sizes ran all the way around the plaza, with many more set up in long rows further inside it. There seemed a rough sort of organization to the place. People selling clothing, and bolts of cloth and canvas and other materials were in one area. In another area, quite a few stalls and shops were set up selling tools and simple weapons from longbows and arrows, to basic swords and axes. Nearby were others offering services such as blacksmithing, tailoring, fletching, and cobbling.

Amaleen jokingly suggested we visit a cobbler and get Valar a tiny set of four shoes to wear. I told her the joke would be on her because all he'd do is eat them. Though, in such an instance I suppose the joke would actually be on Valar's digestive system. Then again, Amaleen would be the one dealing with his likely messy illness at that point so perhaps the joke would be on her after all.

Those things were all well and good, but what we dragons were truly interested in was the food. Though I myself would have been just as happy raiding the section of the market where all the livestock and fowl were kept penned and caged, I rather doubted the people of Sigil Stones would have appreciated that. Luckily, the vendors manning all the various food and butcher stalls were more than happy to accommodate a visiting dragon and in his injured son.

It felt strange when I realized that in all the years I had considered this town my own, I had never once truly visited it. I had stopped by now and than to pick up my tribute or demand some other sort of present, or to snatch Lenira away for a few days. But even when I'd first brought Valar here, I'd never really seen the town. Now that my son was unable to leave it for a while I found the place oddly fascinating.

So many people, all offering something different. It was vastly different from anything I knew among dragons, even back in the clan. The clan had never seen much in the way of commerce. Rather, payment was made in the form of bartering exchanges, or services. If a dragon was able to create something of value to another dragon, the other dragon might spend a week hunting extra food for the family of the dragon doing the work. And we'd certainly never had the sheer variety of food and items on sale here.

Much to my surprise, many of the people seemed to want to offer treats and samples to my son and I. At first I thought it was simply because Amaleen was there. Now that she was in some kind of a position of power, I thought her people might want to impress her. But it was soon clear they were far more interested in myself and in Valar than they were in Amaleen.

Each new stall we visited seemed to offer another variation on an increasingly familiar refrain. Oh, dragon! Try this! What do you think? Give your little one some of this, too. How's he feeling? The poor dear, look at him all bandaged up. Oh, hello Dread Sky! Is your son feeling any better? Aw, he's so cute. Here, give him a bit of this cake, he'll feel better.

Amaleen helped lead the way, taking us to all the stalls she thought would best appeal to us, and perhaps more importantly, would be happy to have us there. If we wished more than the samples they provided, Amaleen offered them a few coins for the extra food. I hoped she was paying fairly. Not that I would ever suspect Amaleen of robbery among her own people. I just didn't want to seem as though I felt a dragon should get things for less than anyone else.

Which gave me an interesting idea. Perhaps when I had a chance to return home, I would come back with a gift for Amaleen. A gift for the whole city, in fact. All those tributes I'd gotten over the years. All the bits of treasure I'd stolen. They were of little value to me aside from simple arrogant pride. Perhaps it was time I returned it to those who actually needed it.

One stall sold an assortment of cheeses. He claimed to me that they were all among the finest, most refined cheeses in the land. He even assured me that a noble creature such as myself would surely appreciate their delicate flavors. While I agreed with him that I was in fact, a noble creature, I wasn't so sure about his cheese-related claim. I had eaten a few various cheeses before, when provided as part of a tribute. I did not dislike them, but I think to a dragon even mild cheese is very much an acquired taste. Even the texture of it seems odd to us. Soft and mushy.

I sampled several of his various cheeses. I did my best not to make a face or scrunch up my muzzle as I tasted them, and when he asked what I thought, I told him that they seemed to have very "unique" flavors. It was truthful, and I was happy to let him take it as far more of a compliment than I'd actually intended. Then, he offered to let Valar try some as well.

The vender handed a slice of soft cheese to Amaleen, and she in turn handed it to Valar. He sniffed it, scrunched his snout up, and popped the whole thing in his muzzle. A moment later and he summed up my feelings about the cheese far more succinctly than I had.

"It tastes like stinky!"

Laughing, I made my way onward and left the sputtering cheese-monger behind. It was not long before we reached a larger stall that held far more appeal to both Valar and myself. The stall of a fish monger. The counter of the stall and the area all around it were covered with all manner of containers filled with both water, and fish. I had no idea where he got so many varieties of them. There seemed more types of fish than could possibly exist in the local rivers and lakes, and yet it was unlikely that he had traveled a great distance to procure them. It wasn't as though I had ever cast a dragon-sized net into the rivers to see what I could dredge out.

The stall had several large, roughly rectangular glass tanks sitting up on the counter in front of the fishmonger himself, with more of them seated upon shelves all around him. Surrounding the actual wooden structure of the stall itself were all manner of barrels, buckets, deep bowls, and anything else that might hold enough water to keep a few fish alive for a little while. There were small but brightly colored fish, fish with a strange, rounded shape, fat golden bronze fish with tiny whiskers, and long, slimy looking fish with smooth skin and much longer whiskers. They whirled and dashed about their tanks and enclosures as our shadows fell across them.

The monger seemed a little nervous to have a dragon staring down at him, but the sight of Valar so eagerly peering at each and every tank he could see from atop my back had soon calmed the man down. He was put even more at ease when Valar started chanted "fishy, fishy, fishy, fishy," in a sing-song tone in the human tongue.

The one selling the fish was an older man, with a gently crinkled face and dark hair rather shaggy and unkempt, peppered with gray. As he began to overcome his initial nervousness, he gestured at my son with a calloused hand. "Likes the fish, does he?"

"His favorite food lately," I explained, glancing back at Valar with a grin. "Especially smoked."

"Smoky, smoky, fishy, fishy," Valar half sang, half giggled to himself. "Want the fishy!"

"Well I've got some smoked fish," the man gestured behind himself. Beyond the stall he had several racks of umber-toned fish all hanging to cure after being smoked. "But I'd always imagined you dragons prefer you food a little less, well, cooked."

"I do," I assured him, licking my nose. "But that's not to say you humans don't cook enjoyable food as well. And Valar here has developed quite a taste for it. I'm sure it will pass. May he have some of your fish?" I glanced at Amaleen, grinning wickedly. "She'd be happy to pay."

Amaleen muttered something under her breath about cheap, miserly dragons, but reached for her coin purse just the same. "I'll cover whatever the little one wants to eat. The big one's a different story."

"Valar," I said, peering back at him. "Would you like to pick out your own fish?"

Valar immediately pointed towards the largest tank the man had, which not coincidentally also contained the largest fish that he had. A golden bronze monstrosity with scales the size of coins, and a body that was nearly as large as Valar. "That one! That one's mine."

"I don't think you could eat all that, Valar," I tried to tell him.

"But it's miiiine!"

"No," Amaleen chuckled. "It isn't, Valar. I don't think I could afford that one."

Valaranyx whimpered in disappointment, and I had another idea. "Why don't we let you catch your own fish? See all those barrels and buckets? You can pick out one of those, and catch them yourself."

"Which one's smoked?"

"None of them yet," I said, unable to help but laugh.

"If you'd like," the man offered. "I can give you two fine...er...gentlemen...samples? I've a few fish here I was about to cut up anyway. I was going to make myself some lunch soon."

"Gentlemen?" I asked, grinning. "I can honestly say no one has ever called me that, before, and I rather doubt I've ever been gentle with anyone other than Valar."

"And Lenira," Amaleen said, placing her hand upon my front leg.

I looked down at her, and smiled a little more. "Yes. Lenira."

The man was already snatching a few fish from some of the buckets. I had to admit, I was quite impressed with his deftness. I certainly couldn't snatch live fish out of water so easily. At least not without using my claws. Then just as I wondered how he himself would go about removing a particular long and spiny looking fish without injuring his hand, he produced what looked like a miniature spear from beneath the counter, and jabbed it into the fish.

Between the undersized spear and a rather oversized knife, he had quickly dispatched all the fish, and set their severed heads aside. Valar watched with morbid fascination as the decapitated heads of the fish kept opening and closing their mouths as if they'd failed to realize that not only could they not breath air, but they were in fact now dead. Valar pointed at the heads while I was watching the man slice long slabs of flesh from the bodies of the fish.

"Look!" He swatted at my neck until I looked at the gaping mouthed fish heads. "Still alive!"

"No, Valar, it's just nerves," I tried to explain.

"No, it's alive, see? Is it gonna grow a new fish?"

That thought made me laugh, and I couldn't help myself. "I don't know Valar, maybe. Now, pay attention to what the man's offering you so you know what kind of fish you want to catch for yourself."

Valaranyx and I both sampled a wide assortment of fish. I was quite surprised by the difference in both flavor and texture from one to the other. Some fish had very firm flesh with sweet flavor, others had softer meat with a mustier taste. Some tasted like the water in which they'd been netted from while others tasted surprisingly earthy. In the end, Valar decided that he liked the sweet tasting meat of the small, rounded blue flecked fish. The merchant pointed out a bucket which had a few of them swimming around it, and then set to cooking up the rest of the fish he'd filleted.

Amaleen helped Valar down off of my back, and pointed out which bucket held the fish he wanted. His eyes quickly began to dart from one bucket to another, and I snatched his tail in my paw, growling for emphasis. "Only one bucket, Valar. Don't go after the fish in any other bucket, or you're in trouble. Understand?"

Valar sighed, and hung his head, his tiny crests drooping. "I never getta do nothing!"

"Yes you do," I reminded him. "You get to catch and eat all the fish from one bucket. So pick carefully. That one over there has the fish you liked best. So that's probably the best one to choose."

"Is it smoked?"

"No, Valar," I said, grinning. "It's not smoked. It's still alive. You get to hunt your own fish."

As if the idea just now fully clicked into his head, Valar gasped, all his tiny spines flaring out at once. "Hunting?!"

"Yes, Valar, hunting." I gestured towards the bucket. "Go on, Valar, hunt yourself some fish."

Oh, hush Alia. I don't care if you think it should be called fishing. To a dragon, if it involves killing prey of any species, it's hunting. What was that Val Junior? It's hardly hunting if they're stuck in a bucket? I'd like to see your squishy, cotton-stuffed self manage to scoop a fish out of a barrel. You'd just soak up all the water and sink to the bottom, and then poor Alia would have to go in and rescue you. ...Because I said so, Alia. Oh? Then I'd toss you in anyway.

Really now, Alia! Such language in front of Val Junior. If you were really stuck in a fish barrel right now I'd stick the top back on and walk off.

Regardless of the semantics of it, Valar was happy to get to do his own hunting. It took him a little while to decide on an approach to it. He limped around the bucket a few times, peering in and watching the panicked fish. Then Valar reached in and tried to grab one but they darted away from his paw. Valar made several attempts, and could never quite get his paw around any of the slippery fish. He yowled to himself in frustration, and just as I was about to tell him to use his claws, he swatted at the bucket in adorable hatchling anger.

Valaranyx swatted the bucket hard enough to upend it. Water sloshed across the ground and the fish spilled out with it, soon flopping about on the cobblestone. Amaleen and the fishmonger both started laughing, and Valar glared up at them as if he didn't know what was so funny. Then the flopping fish drew his attention, and he stalked around the group of them a few times as if he expected them to get up and try to run away from him.

Valar paused, gestured at the gasping fish with a paw, and looked up at me. "Those are mine!"

That made me grin. I flared my spines up a little bit, and took a step towards him as if to challenge him on his claim. He growled at me, and flared up his own tiny spines, lashing his tail. I stepped back, flattening my crests out in mock submission. After all I didn't want him to get too carried away and end up playfully attacking me only to open up his injuries in the process.

"Go on and eat your fish, Valar."

Valar turned and pounced on the nearest fish best he could considering he was wrapped in bandages. He pinned it under his left paw, the one that looked as though he was wearing a blue mitten. He sunk his little black claws through its scales to hold it down. Soon, he had the little sapphire flecked fish completely devoured scales, bones and all. Then he stalked the second fish. Granted, there wasn't much stalking going on as by now the fish was damn near suffocated. But he growled, waggled his haunches and pounced upon it all the same. He pinned it to the cobblestone and quickly finished it off. He repeated the game until all the fish were in his belly, then washed them down by lapping up some of the spilled water that had puddled around him.

"Valar, you shouldn't drink..." Amaleen started to tell him not to drink it, but I waved her off.

"Don't bother. Telling him not to drink that will only make him want to drink more of it." I snorted, tossing my head. "Besides, I don't think it's really going to bother him too much."

When Valar was finished, Amaleen helped him back up onto my back after drying his paws off best she could. He settled down against me, and we continued our tour of the market. By now Valar was getting a little bit sore. His light dose of herbs had begun to wear off, and playing pounce-the-fish wasn't helping his pain level. Though he wouldn't say as much he was probably about ready to go back to Amaleen's home. She'd need to change his bandages anyway.

But I made a point to stop at the stall of a man selling little cakes and sweet pastries. Much as Valar had developed a taste for smoked fish, I'd developed a taste for the sweeter side of human cooking. I told Amaleen I'd probably be happy just eating cake for the rest of my life. She warned me that would lead to be getting quite fat, but I think she was just trying to keep all the cake for herself.

The stall we stopped at gave Valar and I each a slice of chocolate cake. I'd had it a few times before, but it was my son's first experience with something so sweet and delicious. He got more frosting upon his face and muzzle than he did in his belly, but I could tell from his little chirps of delight and his ever rumbling purr that he enjoyed it just as much as I did.

Then the merchant offered us each a few rounded puffs of flaky pastry filled with some kind of sweet cream. Those were nearly as good as the cake as was. Better yet when Valar attempted to eat the first one, he chomped down on it so hard that all the cream spurted out and splattered all across Amaleen's dress. I burst out laughing, but before I could congratulate my son on his excellent aim, Amaleen scooped the sweet filling from her dress and wiped it all across my nose. Glaring at her, I licked my nose clean, and told Valar to eat the next one more carefully.

No, Alia, I've no idea where Valar got the habit of getting frosting on his muzzle, either.

After we'd feasted upon fattening treats, we took Valar back home. After enjoying so many human treats, he was starting to act a little spoiled. He didn't want his pain-relieving herbs mixed into apples, he wanted them mixed into sweet cream, fish, and frosting. He also wanted them all mixed together, and that sounded disgusting even to me. Amaleen fetched a small cake, and we compromised by working the herbs into some of that. Valar seemed pleased, and before long, was sleepily sprawled upon his favorite blanket while Amaleen changed his bandages.

His wounds looked good. So long as he wouldn't feel it much anyway, Amaleen carefully cleaned each of them. She used a small cloth soaked in harsh spirits, and gently dabbed and rubbed around each set of stitches. They were still weeping here and there, but nothing too bad. They did not seem to be infected, and for that I was grateful. They seemed to be healing well enough, all things considered, though he was going to keep those stitches for quite some time. It was likely he'd bear those scars his entire life now.

My scars were much less visible, but I would bear mine for all my life just the same.

---

I decided to head home in the morning. I could easily make the trip there and back in less than a day, and I needed to leave some kind of message for Kylaryn. I had no idea how long she'd be away. While it was possible I might be able to take Valaranyx home before his mother returned, the odds seemed against it. And while she might reason out that Valar and I were off visiting the humans or even Korvarak, I wanted her to know what happened and where to find us.

Amaleen didn't mind watching Valar on her own for a while, so I left him in her care the next morning. I woke early, around dawn and took to the skies. It seemed like ages since I'd hunted my own meal. Perhaps I should have eaten the men I'd slain. Yet their spirits were so foul I could not imagine their flesh would be anything more than rotten and poisonous.

I found a small herd of deer, plucked a sickly looking buck from the ground, and settled down nearby to feast upon it. I had been taught in my youth to leave the strongest prey behind to father more prey for the future. At the time, I thought I would one day teach Valar that, as well.

I took my time with my meal, savoring the pleasures of still warm, still bleeding flesh. The hot blood spilled across my tongue, ran down my throat when I swallowed it. The meat tasted delightfully fresh and pure. It was amazing how a few days spent eating human food could cause me to forget the wonders of devouring your own kill.

When I was satisfied, I left what little remained out in the open. There were plenty of vultures and other creatures who would be happy to finish off the carcass for me. Everything had a place in the world. That certainly included dragons, as I liked to imagine us as the world's apex predator. Though, much as I was loathe to admit it, these days humans certainly seemed fair competition for that title.

I returned to the skies, and soon I was winging my way over the green hills that filled much of the midlands of Aran'alia. Before long the emerald rises were increasingly studded with jagged spires of gray stone and rough hewn boulders that had long ago tumbled down from the higher peaks beyond. I soared over the higher hills where my cavern lay, just below the immense mountains that jutted like towering ashen slabs all stacked against each other.

I settled down a short distance from my home, and walked the last portion of the earthen trail cut through the stony soil that Lenira once tread so often. At least it seemed often to me. To Lenira, it must have seemed like a rare pleasure to walk that pathway towards my home. I could almost imagine her smiling to herself, picking up her skirts as she neared my cave. I sighed, and shook my head, clearing the memory like a gust of wind scattering colorful sands.

Once I entered my home, I slowly surveyed it. To my surprise, I found myself missing the place greatly. I'd been away from home for far longer than this before; yet being stuck in Sigil Stones while Valar healed made me realize just how much I liked my little cavern. My immense, sprawling pile of furs and soft things, the bookshelves arranged along my walls, the stacks of crates and boxes filled with old treasures and tributes. Even the ramshackle old carriage in the far corner.

As if gazing upon the place for the first time, I realized I had so many possessions now that I could see more wooden cases, crates, shelves and other human-crafted things than I could see the actual stone. Idly, I wondered if I could build myself more places to store things. Somehow I envisioned a set of bookshelves where none of the shelves actually matched in size, and as soon as I set the first book upon them the whole thing would come crumbling down. Still, I liked the way my home looked. It was familiar, and in unpleasant times like this, comforting. At the time, I had no way of knowing that later in life, I would try to emulate that familiarity in a far less pleasant setting.

I wandered around my home a little while and looked for things I could bring Valaranyx. I picked up an old leather sack in my jaws, and carried it around. Now and then I set it down and stuffed something inside. A wooden dragon toy some villager left Valar in tribute. A stuffed animal he considered a companion to Squigg. A few more soft blankets, and a pretty, sky-blue and frilly pillow he'd taken to. I couldn't even remember where I got the damn thing. For a moment, I considered hauling that old dilapidated carriage down with me as well, but I decided against it. As much as Valar liked the thing its presence would only encourage him to be far too active for his own good.

Then I decided to add one other thing for him. An old book filled with vibrant pictures that Valar quite enjoyed looking at. Valar loved the book and had Kylaryn and I read it to him about once a week. Granted, there was not that much to read, but he enjoyed looking at the pictures with us as much as anything else. I'd have to be careful with it, but if it got ruined it was hardly the end of the world.

After I'd added the book to the bag of toys for Valar, I tried to figure out how to leave Kylaryn a message. I hardly had a bevy of writing utensils after all. In the end I tore off part of some old tapestry. It was probably worth all manner of wealth to the right humans, but I hardly cared. I took the torn segment, and placed it image-down upon the floor. Then I dug out a large inkwell I'd stolen thanks to a crate filled with messenger's gear that I'd incorrectly assumed was filled with treasure. I dipped my claw into the ink a few times, and carefully scrawled out a message on the back of the old tapestry. I did not want to panic Kylaryn, but I did want her to know Valar was injured. Sadly, I knew trying to keep her from panicking was likely a futile effort.

Kylaryn,

Valar and I are in Sigil Stones. Valar was injured and I was forced to take him to Amaleen for treatment. He is alright, but needs time to recover. I hope your trip went well. You will find Valar and I in Amaleen's back garden. I am sure you will be able to see us from the skies.

Valyrym

The message was simple and to the point. If anything, it may have understated the nature of Valaranyx's wounds. That was fine with me. After all I could explain it to her in person where I could help her cope with her reactions. I didn't want to tell her he'd nearly died and that humans were the cause when she'd be the only one here to read it. It was going to be difficult enough to explain to her that Valar had to stay in Sigil Stones for a while. I sighed, feeling sorry for my mate. I wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stay in Sigil Stones without feeling trapped and threatened by the humans. Still, there was nothing I could do for her for now.

Just as I was about to leave, I remembered my personal vow to repay Amaleen and her people for their generosity. Time to start returning wealth to Sigil Stones. I fetched another sack, and filled it with coins and jewels and silver trinkets and whatever other valuable baubles I could easily locate. I'd certainly stolen more than my fair share in my younger days, to say nothing of all the things I'd been given in tribute. When I had enough for now, I returned to the skies.

I clutched my two bags of cargo against my body, and winged my way back to Sigil Stones. It deep into the afternoon by the time I returned though the sun had not yet begun to sink too far. I alighted in Amaleen's backyard to find her seated upon one of her blankets in the grass. She wore a pretty, lilac toned dress and had Valaranyx stretched out with his front paws in her lap. His head was raised and cocked in interest. She had a book in her hands.

Amaleen was reading to Valaranyx.

After setting down my cargo, I walked over to them, unable to keep from beaming at the sight of a woman reading to a dragon hatchling. Let alone this woman in particular, reading to my son. Amaleen smiled up at me. Valar glanced up but seemed to pay me little attention.

"Hello, you two! Are you reading to him, Amaleen?" The answer was obvious of course and yet as often happens I could not stop myself from asking the question anyway.

Before Amaleen had a chance to reply, Valar snapped his jaws and glared at me as if he couldn't believe my rudeness. "Don't interrupt the story!"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I said in just such a way as to sound genuinely regretful to Valar, and genuinely amused to Amaleen.

Amaleen smiled, and continued to weave the tale. I settled onto my haunches, listening in, and staring down at the book. It had sketches drawn here and there illustrating what was happening. Best I could tell it was a children's tale about a town overrun by vicious bands of Urd'thin or some other sort of unpleasant creature. The urd'thin captured all the parents and made them into slaves, but a group of children escaped. Somehow the children encountered the urd'thin's own children, and forged an alliance. Then working together, the young humans and young urd'thin were able to...well about that point I zoned out because it was getting awfully sweet and preachy about the power of friendship. Still, making friends between species and working together to save the day were excellent messages for a young hatchling to hear.

I myself preferred the more immediate image of a human woman reading such a story to a young dragon. "Did you enjoy the story, Valar?" I asked when it was over.

"Yes!" Valar giggled and clapped his paws together. Then he swatted at the book with the blue fingers of his right paw. "More! More story!"

"The story's over, Valar," Amaleen giggled, closing the book. "That's it!"

"Again!" Valar put his both his front paws on the book. "Read again!"

"You know, Valar," Amaleen said, reaching out to rub his head gently. "If you learn to read you can read stories to yourself any time you want."

"Ooooooh," Valar gave a little croon as though that was shocking news to him.

"I've tried to teach him a little," I said, stroking Valar's dark wings lightly. "His attention span can be a problem."

"Have you tried to teach him to read our language?" Amaleen asked, looking up at me as she set the book aside.

"Well," I licked my nose, feeling slightly embarrassed. "No."

"That's because you can't read it either, right?" She smirked at me.

"That is correct," I muttered.

"I thought as much." Amaleen lightly caressed the tiny scales of one of Valar's paws. "If you could, you'd have had one of those signs by the central road removed ages ago."

"Why?" I pulled my head back, my neck curling in an S.

"Because, one of the older signs reads Snotty dragon with tiny balls ahead," Amaleen said before she burst into giggles.

"It does not!" I gasped, horrified that for the last unknown number of decades, anyone traveling my road had been told that I was both snotty, and ill-equipped.

"It does," Amaleen said, still giggling. "Most of the other derogatory signs were removed years ago, but that one's still there because people think it's funny."

"Most?" I asked, incredulous. "How many were there?"

"A half dozen at least, I'm sure," Amaleen replied, rising to her feet. "I can't say I ever counted. We put in better ones, after we came to like you. The sort of thing that claims the lands are protected by the Dread Sky."

"I didn't know any of those signs said anything like that," I protested, hissing under my breath.

"Obviously," Amaleen grinned, peering down at Valar. "Valar, would you like to learn to read, so you can read your own stories?"

Valar pushed himself to his paws, his tail swaying. "Yes! Learn to read! Learn to read!"

"Good," Amaleen said happily. Then she cast me a devious grin. "I'll teach your father to read, too."

"I_can_ read," I muttered.

"A language spoken by more than a half dozen creatures across the entire area?"

"....No."

"Then I'll teach you to read our language." Amaleen walked over to me and stroked my neck a moment. "Besides, it'll be a great way to keep Valar busy." She glanced down at him. "Would you like your father to learn to read with you, Valar?"

Valar beamed, all his little hatchling teeth glistening in the sunlight. "Yes!"

"Oh, very well," I muttered. "Back me into a corner, why don't you."

"Don't complain, you old beast," Amaleen said, placing her hands upon her hips. "Now, what have you brought back?"

I glared at Amaleen for a moment as if hoping the fiery golden embers of my eyes would strike a little fear into her, and convince her teaching a dragon to read against his will as a bad idea. It seemed to have the opposite effect as she simply smirked at me and began to stroke me between my nostrils. I growled at her, and bared my fangs a little bit, but she remained nonplussed.

"I could bite that hand off," I said with a louder growl.

Before Amaleen could reply with a sarcastic retort of her own, Valar temporarily abandoned his attempt to investigate what I brought and swatted me on my front paw. "No!" He growled up at me, baring his own little fangs. "Bad father! You be nice to Argleblarp!"

Chastised by my own hatchling son, and laughed at by the woman I was attempting to intimidate, my only recourse was to pin my ears back in embarrassed defeat. "Oh, very well," I muttered. I turned around, and in so doing made sure to smack Amaleen with my tail. She yelped and very nearly toppled over, and I smirked at her around the side of my body. "Mind the tail."

"I'll mind your balls with my foot if you keep it up, dragon," Amaleen said, glaring at me, then glanced down at Valar. "You didn't hear me say that."

"Yes I did," Valar said with an innocent grin.

"Nearly as bad as Kylaryn," I told Amaleen, settling myself near the first bag. I opened it up, and began to pull out the things I'd brought back for Valar. First, I brought out the stuffed toy. I think it was supposed to be a bear. Or a fat wolf. Either way, it was black, plump, and stuffed with something soft just like Squigg. Unlike Squigg, though, it didn't have a name. I handed it to Valar. "Here. I brought you Squigg's friend."

"Oooh!" Valar sat up on his haunches and snatched the toy in his paws. "It's Rorgie!"

Perhaps it did have a name. Where Valaranyx came up with names like Squigg and Rorgie I have no idea. Valar winced in pain and whimpered to himself as sitting too high on his haunches put pressure on his injured hind leg. He took Rorgie in his jaws, and moved back to all fours, then gingerly limped over to the area where his other blankets and things were kept.

Valaranyx now had his own little section of Amaleen's garden. He'd claimed an area where the grass was very soft, and during the day warmed by the sun. It was near enough her patio that when it rained he could easily snatch up all his blankets and things and drag them under the awning to keep them dry. Valar loved playing in the rain but Amaleen said his bandages shouldn't get wet, so we had to watch him closely whenever the clouds began to unleash their silvery bounty.

Valaranyx was building himself quite the pile of soft things in his corner. It wouldn't yet rival mine but given his age and what he had to work with it was becoming quite impressive. He had the two blankets he'd claimed from Amaleen, and of course he had his own favorite blanket. With a few more washings behind it, the stains had faded a bit further. Still, I knew they'd never fade completely, and in my mind neither would the bloodstains upon my paws. Squigg, too, had been washed several times to make sure he was clean as could be. Valar kept him tucked away amidst his blankets and a few pillows that had been donated by Amaleen and her apprentices.

The distance between myself and Valar's corner was not far, and yet the journey was nonetheless arduous for him. I watched him slowly walk to the area he'd claimed as his own with a little pain in my heart. Though it was still early in his healing process, I rather imagined he was always going to walk with a limp now. And his bandaged wing had to hang at an awkward angle to avoid pulling on the stitches beneath it. I was unsure he'd ever be able to stretch it properly to its full extent. I licked my nose, and sighed to myself, wanting to concentrate more on his healing and his happiness for the time being.

Valar set Rorgie down next to Squigg. When he turned back towards me, I said, "I brought you this, as well." Then I tossed the frilly blue pillow at him. It bounced off his head and he gave a startled yelp, flailing about with his paws for a moment. I couldn't help but laugh. "That's for throwing all that bread at my face the other day!"

The pillow was soft as could be, and I knew it wouldn't hurt him in the least. Valar, though, seemed appalled I'd even consider such an act. He glared at me, his blue tipped muzzle hanging half open as if in shock. Finally, he picked Rorgie up in his jaws, and marched back towards me as defiantly as he could. Which wasn't very defiantly given that he was limping the entire time. When he reached me, Valar very deliberately took Rorgie from his jaws, and hurled the little stuffed beastie right into my face. I playfully yelped as the cottony toy bounced off my muzzle. Valar then picked Rorgie up once more, and slowly made his way back to his blankets. He propped both Rorgie and Squigg atop the frill blue pillow like squishy, stuffed royalty.

I rubbed my nose with a paw. "That was an awful lot of work to throw a stuffed toy at me."

Amaleen was giggling. She did that a lot around the two of us. For all the spite she'd once directed at me, I can only imagine how shocking it must have been those first few days to see how I acted around my son. How he acted around me. Valar was everything that she'd once imagined I was incapable of. Loving and playful and funny and innocent, and he brought all those qualities out in me, as well. All save for the innocence, because there was little of that left in me and what was still there would not last forever. But without Valar, Amaleen would have never come to know the very best part of me.

Between Lenira and Valaranyx, I had slowly transformed. When Amaleen first told me the truth about Lenira, I gradually came to be aware that I had become something I was ashamed of. That without ever realizing it, I had become the very monster so many humans assumed I was. Now, I had endured another sort of change. Now, I was becoming something I could be proud of.

Something Amaleen could be proud of.

I wanted to be something that even Valar could be proud of. He looked up to me then, when he was young. He knew no better. Yet, looking back, I realize one of my greatest regrets in life was not giving my son a reason to be truly proud of me while I had the chance. I would never want him to know what I did in my last moments of freedom.

Amaleen placed her hand upon my front leg, and gently stroked it for a few moments. I looked down at her, and she smiled up at me. I smiled back, and she gestured to the bags with her free hand. Valar seemed happy enough with what I'd already brought him, but I had more presents as well. I didn't want him to have to rise up and walk all the way back to me again, so I picked up the leather sack on my jaws and walked to Valar's corner. When I set it down I glanced at Amaleen.

"No peeking," I hissed at her when I saw she was examining the remaining bag. "That's a surprise for you, and we'll get there in due time."

Amaleen seemed a bit taken aback that I'd brought her something too. In truth it wasn't just for her but for the entire town. Yet she seemed the best person to present it too. I wasn't totally sure, but I got the distinct impression she was now one of the most important people in the town. Far as I could glean through eavesdropping, the town was now governed by some sort of council of which Amaleen was now a member. Years back when she first told me she was Chief Healer, I had no idea that was actually an important position in her city's leadership structure. Which likely meant Lenira too had once attained an important position. Perhaps that was another reason many of the people in town had looked down on her for pseudo-relationship with me. Scorning her duties in town to attend the whims of some dragon.

Amaleen had ascended even higher though. She was still Chief Healer, though she was training a replacement. But beyond that she had attained a position on the city's governing council. I felt guilty in a way for not realizing that sooner. It seemed as though only yesterday I'd first presented Valar to her. What had he and I done in that time? Flown about, hunted, visited Korvarak, and little else. What had Amaleen done in those seven years? Worked tirelessly towards the benefit of her city, and eventually attained a position appropriate for her efforts.

Best I could tell, Amaleen might even be the head of that council. Truth was, I had not asked, and she had not told me. I had gotten the idea she sought to keep her city duties separate from her time spent with Valar and I for as long as she could. Had we discussed it earlier, things might have gone differently, but we had no way to know.

Since I'd put a damper on Amaleen's efforts to investigate my presents for her town, she joined Valar while I gave him the rest of his own gifts. He was very happy to see the little wooden dragon. He'd always loved that thing. It was one of the first gifts he'd ever gotten in tribute from the human city, and he was quick to grasp it in a front paw and swing it back and forth through the air, making flying noises and giggling.

What do you mean, Alia? You don't know what a flying noise is? Oh, you do know, but Val Junior wishes me to demonstrate? Oh, very well. You know, it's sort of like, whoosh, whoosh, whoooooooosh! Like the sound our wings make...why are you laughing? Oh, very funny! It's not nice to trick old dragons into embarrassing themselves making silly noises.

Valar was better at making the flying noises than I was, anyway. Watching him play with that toy was both heartening and heartbreaking. I loved to see that while his body was injured, his spirit was intact. And yet I knew my son was fascinated with flight. After all, all young dragons were. There were few things a young dragon anticipated more than the day he was old enough to take his first solo flight. Even now, with Valar's wing awkwardly hanging at his side, bandaged, in his mind he was imagining himself as that dragon flying through the air. He knew, in his own way, that one day he'd be the one soaring the skies above the rolling hills and rugged mountains. Just as I knew in my heart he might never know that simple joy.

I forced myself to look away from him. I had to take a moment. I blinked away tears before I could shed them, and cleared my throat with a loud growl. Of course, the growl got Valar's attention, and I turned away a little more before he could see I was upset. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Amaleen began to stroke my neck. She knew, and she understood. Somehow, she always understood.

"It will be alright, Val," she said gently. "You will carry him, if you have to."

"I know," I replied, my voice a hoarse whisper. I lifted my paw and placed it ever so carefully on her arm. As she stroked the scales of my neck, I stroked the skin of her arm. For a moment we shared silence and comfort. I lowered my head a little, sighing to myself.

"Are you gonna wrestle Argleblarp?" Valar peered up at us.

I blinked, clearing my throat again. "What?" For a moment I was confused. "No, of course not."

"He knows I'd win," Amaleen said, grinning. She'd started to ignore being called Argleblarp. Try as she might she couldn't get Valar to stop calling her that from time to time. "Why do you ask?"

"Cause he's petting you and you're petting him!" Valar giggled to himself, swooshing the dragon toy through the air again. "Sometimes when him and mother pet each other, they tell me to go play outside and sometimes when I come back they're wrestling!"

I wasn't sure if I should be highly amused, horrified, or embarrassed. Thankfully I had Amaleen there to choose for me, and she found the whole thing hilarious. Though, her sudden burst of laughter was a little bit embarrassing in its own right. She moved a few paces away from me, laughing and laughing till she ended up doubled over, her slightly wavy black hair hanging in front of her face. "Oh,that kind of wrestling!"

Valar cocked his little horned head, confused. "What kind?"

"No, Valar," Amaleen said, thankfully without really answering his question. "We aren't going to be wrestling." Amaleen smirked at me, unable to help getting in a playful jab. Making a point to look me over, she added, "Even if Lenira did tell me exactly how to win."

"She did not!" I gasped, my amusement quickly shifting back to horrified embarrassment.

Amaleen only laughed even harder at that, which left me totally unsure if she was just trying to get to me, or telling the truth. I'd already learned that Lenira had told Amaleen a lot more about me than I'd ever realized, and it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she might have passed on a few of her favorite...er...wrestling moves. Even if it was just because the two of them once expected Amaleen to take over their particular duty as well, and Amaleen would have wanted the task to be over as swiftly as possible.

My face flushed so hotly my nose looked nearly purple beneath the thin scales there, and the insides of my frilled ears burned bright and crimson. Seeking to change the subject both to decrease my own embarrassment and to prevent Valar from asking too many questions, I dug out the last of the gifts I'd brought him, wrapped up in a few extra blankets.

"Here, Valar," I murmured, trying to ignore Amaleen's very knowing smirk. I handed Valar the blanket-wrapped gift. "Open up your last little present. It's one of your favorite things from back home."

Valar quickly peeled away the layers of blankets, and when he saw the battered, leather wrapped cover of his favorite book he let out a cute little hatchling squeal of glee. He picked the book up and hugged it to his scales, giggling away. Amaleen came around him and crouched down to see what it was, and Valar held it out to her.

Amaleen gently took it from him. "Is this a book you like, Valar?"

"It's my favorite!" Valar chirped. Though in his exuberance he replied in draconic, and so I translated for Amaleen.

"Read it!" Valar trilled, flaring his tiny spines. "Read it, read it, read it!"

Amaleen opened the book up. I was glad to see she was very careful with it, the pages were increasingly brittle with age. She murmured in surprise when she saw how detailed the drawings and pictures within were. It was mostly an art book for hatchlings, most of the pictures had a little caption beneath them written in draconic script. Some of the pictures were organized in a way to tell the general framework of a story and allow the hatchling in question to fill in the blanks with his imagination.

"This is..." Amaleen paused, trying to find the right word. She slowly turned the page. The next image was a detailed drawing of a very noble looking dragon in flight, his wings outstretched. Behind him shone the sun, a brilliant, fire-wreathed orb in the image. "This is beautiful!"

I found myself smiling even wider than Valaranyx at that sentiment. "I'm...glad you like it." Strangely, I suddenly felt as though I'd brought that book as much for Amaleen as I had for Valar.

"Did Lenira ever see this one?" Amaleen looked up at me, genuine interest shining in her eyes. There was a sort of dual curiosity there. The book was a link both to the woman who had raised Amaleen, and a source of insight into the fascination Lenira held for my species and myself.

"Yes," I said, swiveling my ears a little. I settled down onto my belly alongside my son, and the woman who had become my friend. "That was one of her favorites, actually."

"Cause it's good!" Valar said as if unable to believe it might _not_be someone's favorite.

Amaleen ran her fingers over the page, tracing the lines of ink that covered it. She worked her fingers in a circle around the outline of the sun, and then ran them down the slope of the dragon's neck. Finally, she looked up at me with an odd little smile I couldn't quite place. She lifted her hand, and stroked the curve of my neck in much the same way.

"I like this picture," she said softly.

"That was one of Lenira's favorites, too."

"I thought it might be." Amaleen turned her attention back to the book. This time she ran a finger over the single line of draconic script. "What does this say?"

A smile spread over my muzzle. "Rise with the sun," I told her, then chuckled a little. "Fittingly enough."

Amaleen nodded. "That saying, and this picture. They make me want to write a poem."

"Poem?" I scrunched my muzzle.

"Yes," Amaleen replied. "It's like a very short, lyrical story."

"I know what a poem is, Amaleen," I snorted, flicking my tail.

"Have you ever written one?"

"Of course not." I gave a growl of distaste, flaring my spiny crests. "I'm a dragon. We don't write poems."

Amaleen giggled, turning the page. The next image was a whole group of dragons, all dancing in the skies. The image was drawn with extended swooping lines that helped to emphasize the graceful movement of the creatures in flight. Amaleen touched it with her fingers as well, as if she thought she could connect to the image itself. Perhaps she was imagining Lenira doing the same thing when she first saw the pictures.

"Dragons made this, didn't they?" She flicked her eyes up to me, temporarily unsure.

"Of course they did," I tossed my horned head, flicking my tail against the earth. My spines tore little ruts in the grass. "Just because we're dragons doesn't mean we can't create artwork or things of beauty. Granted, very few of us ever do. Even that book is a careful reproduction of a much older work, as are most of the dragon-script books I have. But once upon a time, we made lovely things just as well as you did."

"Then why did you act so offended when I asked you if you'd ever written a poem?"

"Ah." I snorted at her. It seems I'd flared my wings and flown right into her little trap.

Oh, shut up Alia. It is not that easy to talk me into a corner. No, Val Junior could not!

"Creating art is one thing," I finally muttered, gesturing with my paw. "Writing flowery words is something else entirely. Dragons don't do it."

"I think you do, and you just don't realize it," Amaleen said, moving onto the next image. It depicted a series of towering, claw-like mountains in the background beyond a sweeping meadow. A series of adorable little hatchlings chased each other upon the grass. "Or you don't want to admit it."

"Perhaps it is that last one," I grumbled, looking away.

"Thought so," Amaleen said with a giggle. "Any being who can create beauty like this is clearly capable of writing poetry. You just have to try."

"Poetry is stupid," I said with a little snarl.

"I write poetry," Amaleen said, closing the book and handing it back to Valar.

"You prove my point, then," I said. I tried to act serious but was unable to contain my grin.

Amaleen glared at me, but then she grinned too, and swiftly whacked me on the snout. I yelped and grabbed my nose with a paw. "That's what you get for being a big, scaly ass."

"Big scaly ass!" Valar repeated.

"Thank you very much, Amaleen," I said from behind my paw. "Teaching my son terrible things to say."

"It's nothing he hasn't already heard from you and his mother," Amaleen said, rising to her feet. "Back to the point I was making. I think you dragons have already written poetry and you just don't know it. That oath you told me, the one that picture references? It's very poetic."

"You're very poetic," I snapped back at her before I realized just how much that sounded like something Valar would say.

"Thank you," Amaleen said as she began to walk back towards the other bag. "Now I'm going to find out what's in this sack, whether you're coming with me or not."

"Very well," I said, rising to my feet. I patted Valar's head. "You stay here and enjoy your toys and your book." I stroked the book's leather-bound cover softly. "Be careful with this book Valar, it's fragile."

I wasn't sure if Valar would really take that advice or not but I doubted he would completely ruin it. As I made my way to join Amaleen, she surprised me once again. She was starting to get good at that.

"You have a beautiful looking language," she said, standing near the leather bag. "Would you teach me to read it?"

I settled down on my haunches next to the bag filled with loot I was donating to Sigil Stones. "You really want to learn it?"

"I'd love to," Amaleen said, smoothing out her lilac-toned dress.

"I..." For a moment, I didn't really know what to say. The only other human to ever express an interest in our language was Lenira, and much to my regret, I'd never really taken the time to teach her. It always seemed a bother to put so much effort into it at the time. After all, I'd simply assumed I'd have time to teach her later in life. What a foolish beast I'd been. The memory of it still stung me. Now, though, perhaps I could make up for that. Much like a dragon's true name, our true language was something personal to us. Humans were rarely if ever taught to speak it, let alone read it. Offering to teach her such knowledge was a very tacit admission that we were now friends, though I rather doubt the true scope of my words dawned upon her. "I'd be honored to teach you the draconic tongue, Amaleen."

I lowered my head a little, and she gently pressed her face to my muzzle. She stroked the underside of my jaw, smiling against my pebbly scales. "Thank you, Valyrym. I hope you'll be patient with me. It will probably take a while for me to learn it."

"I have all the time in the world," I said, softly. Amaleen was...my friend, now. Just as Lenira had once been my friend. This time things would be different. I would never neglect Amaleen the way I'd neglected Lenira. I would never leave her to wonder where I was for months or years at a time. Though she had once hated me, when I needed her most she was there to support me. Now, I swore to myself that I would always be there for her when she needed me. "And for you, Amaleen, I will always have the patience."

Amaleen stroked my jaw line a little more, then placed a gentle kiss between my nostrils. After a moment longer, we parted again, each of us smiling a little more than we really wished to yet unable to stop ourselves. Finally, I cleared my throat with a growl. I put my paw atop the bag. I'd been thinking about delivering some grand, formal speech. Something about how I'd appreciated the support of Sigil Stones for all the years. How I was honored to become more than simply some dragon overlord, and how I felt happy to be their protector for such a large portion of my life.

But when I actually opened my mouth, I only managed to blurt out, "This is for you, Amaleen." I licked my nose, shook myself, my scales clattering. Then I added, "And the people. Of your town, I mean. It's theirs. For them. For both of you. Not that there's only two of you in town, I mean..."

"Valyrym," Amaleen said, stepping back and folding her arms beneath her breasts. A smirk slowly crept over her lips. "Have I flustered you somehow?"

"Oh, just open the damn bag," I hissed, rustling my wings with a huff.

Laughing, Amaleen went to the bag and slowly opened it up. As she unwrapped its contents, the glitter of gold and silver caught her eye. She sucked in a breath with a loud gasp, and stepped away, her face going pale and her eyes wide like oversized sapphires stuck into an ornamental mask. "Valyrym! What is all that?"

"Consider it a tribute," I said, smiling. "To you, and your city. It is..." I turned my eyes away, staring off across her garden for a moment. Silence fell across us, with only birdsong to break the calmness in the air. When I found my voice, I gave words to my thoughts. "It is time I begin repaying you and your people for all your kindness. For many years I demanded treasure and tribute in return for my protection. Now I find myself taking shelter in your very home while my son owes his life entirely to your kindness." I gestured at the bag with my paw. "This is for you, and your city. I will not accept no for an answer, either. If you do not wish to accept it you shall have to toss it in the river because I'm not taking it back."

Amaleen stared down at the bag. She worked her fingers together, fidgeting. I'd rarely seen her flustered before, but she certainly seemed that way now. Repayment, perhaps, for doing the same to me only moments earlier. "I...I don't know what to say, Valyrym..."

"You needn't say anything," I said, a smile breaking out across my muzzle. "My suggestion would be you take a bit for yourself to cover your expenses in feeding my son and I, for starters. Perhaps a bit more as a gift to yourself. Then use the rest for your town. I'm sure someone in your position, whatever it may be, can think of a good way to do just that."

"Oh...Valyrym," Amaleen said as she fell to her knees as though overwhelmed. She opened the bag a little more, reaching in to pull out a handful of coins. "Oh, this will help immensely, I can distribute this all through town or set it aside in the city's treasury or...or..." She trailed off, trying to collect her thoughts.

"Why not do both?" I suggested. "There's plenty more where that came from. I'll be returning some to all six villages, but you and Sigil Stones will get the majority of it, I think. Use it to help your people however you think is best. I certainly don't do anything with it. Neither does Kylaryn, for that matter, though if she wishes to keep her portion I'll not stop her."

"Oh, Val," Amaleen said, nearly repeating herself. She jumped to her feet, and threw her arms around my neck. As she hugged me, a few tears ran down her cheek. "You have no idea how much this is going to help. I'm afraid in the next few years, we're going to end up relying on this if they try to choke us off."

"What?" I asked, pulling my head back a little and cocking it. "What are you talking about?"

Amaleen shook her head. "Nevermind. It's hardly your concern, Val."

"Amaleen," I said softly. "I told you before it was the concern of dragons now. Besides, I still protect you. And I still protect Sigil Stones."

"You still call it Sigil Stones," Amaleen said, as much to herself as to anyone else. "That's cute."

"Don't change the subject, Amaleen. Tell me what's going on. People are trying to take your lands, aren't they?" I leaned in a little bit, nudging her cheek. "You said you would have to decide if you would negotiate, or fight." I gestured towards the treasure. "This will help either way, will it not?"

Amaleen sighed. "It will. We fear...if they do not get what they want, they will try and cut us off from trade from the rest of the world. Gifts like this would easily keep us afloat despite their embargoes."

I snorted. "I seem to recall a time when your people needed no trade with anyone else."

"We've grown a lot since then, Val. Besides, even when you met Lenira she was on her way back from a trade visit to another city."

I supposed Amaleen had a point. Still, I was glad to be able to help. "So your negotiations have failed, then."

"Not exactly," Amaleen said, shaking her head. "But those soldiers who hurt your son. They were scouts for a larger army that may soon be massing on the borders. We expect them to make their point by cutting us off from all our trade partners to the east. But let's not talk about that right now."

"Amaleen..." I began, trying to press her a little.

She cut me off, pressing her hand to my muzzle. "When the time is right, I promise I'll tell you all about it. But for now..." She turned a little, and gestured towards Valaranyx. He was laying on his uninjured side, with Squigg in one paw, and Rorgie in the other, zooming them both around in the air above himself. "You have something far more important to worry about."

"Very well," I said, nudging her gently. She gave me a wistful smile, and turned away to gaze off into the distance. My gift had both delighted her, and brought up painful concerns. The burdens of her entire city weighed heavily upon her shoulders, and I could only do such much to ease them. "I will help you, if I can."

Amaleen sighed a little, still staring at the horizon. I watched her for a moment, and soon felt as though she was now the one who needed the comfort. As she had done for me, so would I do for her. I settled down upon my belly, and in the process I pulled her down with me. I didn't pull too forcefully, but I did wrap a foreleg around her and use enough force to ensure she'd not be able to resist effectively. Not that she tried. A little tug was all it took and she'd settled down against my chest.

I hugged her gently against myself, one foreleg curled protectively around her. She leaned her head back against the plate of my chest, her black, gently wavy hair framing her face. She stroked my front leg, and tilted her head back to smile up at me, thankful for my care and comfort. I smiled back at her. I lowered my head, and gently nuzzled her cheek. She kissed my nose.

Such was the way love truly began for Amaleen and I.

---

Chapter Five

---

Over the next weeks Amaleen began to teach us to read her language. In the mornings she saw to our breakfast, and then she attended meetings dealing with the issues of her city. As a healer she took no new patients, deferring them to her best apprentices instead. When she returned from her meetings, she settled down in a warm place in her backyard with Valaranyx and I and an armload of books. She brought the same sort of books that were used to teach human children to read. They had bright, colorful pictures, and oversized print to show the shape of each letter.

Embarrassed as I was to admit it, Valaranyx picked up the written form of her language faster than I did. I thought it would be easy. After all I already spoke the damn language, surely it would not be that hard to learn the letters of it. And yet there seemed so many of them. And why couldn't they all just sound the same all the damn time. Must the sounds change just because you may put a different letter behind it? Or in front of it? That's idiotic.

What damn fool came up with your language anyway, Alia? Draconic script makes far more sense, our sigils all make a specific sound regardless of where they are. Well, for the most part anyway. There may be one or two exceptions. What do you mean Val Junior thinks I'm going off on a senile rant? I'd like to see him reach my age without ranting about the way things were. No, I will not start telling the local youths to get out of my garden. I haven't got a garden. Though I'll damn sure yell at them if they get near my tub.

Alright, alight, Alia, back to the story. I will accept the blame for that particular detour, but all the others were your fault.

Valaranyx began to pick up the letters quickly enough. Within less than a week he was reading simple words and I was still sounding things out. Amaleen was very impressed by his progress. She said he picked it up far faster than any human child did, and I used that opportunity to tell her that dragon children were clearly smarter than human children. At which point she told me I was learning slower than any human child.

I think she was joking. I hope she was joking.

Each day when our lessons began, we settled in the grass together. Amaleen sat with her legs folded, or lay upon her belly. Valar lay down along one side of her with his head in the book, and I sprawled out along the other side of her. We always began that way, but it was not long before Amaleen and grew closer and closer. By the end of each lesson we nearly always ended up curled together somehow without ever giving words to our growing affections.

Each day, the touches we shared grew just a little more intimate, a little more loving. Sometimes when she lay on her belly, my tail draped over her leg. Sometimes she put a hand on my paw or stroked my leg. When she sat up, she leaned against my body. Sometimes I curled a front leg around her, or encased her in my wing. At first we shared a smile now and then, and soon we shared many of them. Each grew a little warmer, a little happier than the last.

One day it rained during our lesson, and rather than try and squeeze under the awning together, I simply covered her and Valaranyx with my wings so that we might have our lessons in our own private shelter. For that short, wonderful time, the drumming of the rain against my wings drowned out the world. It covered everything but the sound of Amaleen's voice as she read to us, and we followed along silently. For a little while, there was no one else in the world but Amaleen and my son.

The best parts of my life.

As I sat curled around her each day, watching her smile and listening to her read simple sentences aloud, I came to realize why she was so hesitant to talk to me about the burdens facing her city. When she returned from those meetings she seemed drained, worried, saddened. But each afternoon spent with Valaranyx and myself lifted her spirits. She did what only a year or two ago would have seemed impossible even to her. She took solace and comfort from the dragon she once hated. Valaranyx and I were becoming the best parts of her life, too.

Those morning sessions with her council, those fearful worries for the fate of her city slowly sapped the life out of her. Yet each afternoon, when she could forget all about it for a while and laugh and joke with a hatchling, she got her strength back. Each time she curled under my wings and let the world drift away she was rejuvenated. We had become like an oasis to her, and to bring up the topic of her people's troubles would have sullied those pure waters.

So I let the days pass without further questions. Looking back, it is easy to say I should have pushed her. Should have made her tell me everything then and there. Perhaps things would have turned out differently if I had been able to act sooner. Yet there is no way to know, and I have far more to regret than hesitancy. I simply could not bring myself to sully Amaleen's mood when instead each afternoon I got to watch her happiness be born anew. And so rather than confront her about her city's troubles, I let her teach me to read.

Amaleen taught me a simple child's trick to help me remember all the letters and how they sounded. By drawing each letter and saying the sound it made a few times, I was able to better ingrain it in my memory. Of course I wasn't actually drawing anything, I was just scribing the sigil into the grass with my claws. Given that I did so while Amaleen was away, I shouldn't have been surprised when she came home and yelled at me upon seeing a patch of her soft grass torn and riven with letter-shaped ruts.

Soon Valaranyx and I were reading simple sentences to each other. He still outpaced me, and embarrassing as it was to be bested by a hatchling, I had to admit I was very proud of his progress. It wasn't long before he was correcting me.

"No, Father," he'd say with a giggle. "That one sounds like this when its behind this one." And then of course he'd make the sound and I'd do my best to imitate him.

My personal favorite was when he said, "Father, you're making me look bad!" Just before he heaved an adorable hatchling sigh and pressed his paw to his snout and shook his head.

As we slowly learned to read the human tongue, Valaranyx slowly healed. Amaleen seemed impressed with his progress, and I took that as a very good sign. He limped a little bit less, and didn't hurt quite as badly all the time. The downside was that he was feeling more energetic and Amaleen and I had to work a little harder to keep him from overexerting himself or opening up any of his injuries again. Thankfully, our daily lessons helped with that. Valar relished learning to read, and sometimes our lessons went on nearly the entire day. That was fine with me. Time spent in lessons was time spent with my son, and Amaleen.

I was glad that Valaranyx was enjoying himself so much as well. I did not want him to go crazy being stuck in a human city, let alone spending most of that time in someone's admittedly large back garden. Though he was healing well, Amaleen did not want him to leave Sigil Stones until his stitches were ready to be removed. She did not want to risk having him break one of his wounds open again and be too far away for her to be able to help him in time. Nor did she want to take the stitches out early for exactly the same reason. It was certainly not a concern I was going to argue with.

Valar, however, was happy to argue with it the day my own stitches came out. As my wound was much less serious, Amaleen was able to remove my stitches earlier than Valar's. Of course, the fact I was a crankier patient than Valar might have had something to do with it, as well. Valar watched with wide-eyed awe and envy as she pulled each stitch out from the puckered, pinkish scar. As she tugged the last one free, Valar covered his eyes with his little blue marked paws as though he expected blood to start pouring from my leg at any moment. When it did not, Amaleen and I had quite the task convincing Valar his own stitches needed to stay in a bit longer without making his own wounds seem so grievous as to frighten him.

I kept watch on the skies as the days wore on. I knew sooner or later Kylaryn would return, and she would come to find Valaranyx. I was not looking forward to telling her what happened. In fact I felt myself dreading it just a little more each day. I knew she would not react to the news well. I hoped she had found good news about her brother, though if such was the case I hated to have to ruin that happiness with the news about Valar.

It was at least a number of weeks past Valar's first full day in Sigil Stones when Kylaryn returned. I heard her wing beats before I saw her. Amaleen was reading to us at the time. My ears flicked, and I turned my head towards the sky. Amaleen put her hand against my chest, and gently stroked my plates. She told me it would be alright. I wasn't so sure.

Slowly, I rose up to my paws. "Amaleen, I hate to ask, but would you mind waiting inside for a little while?"

"Of course, Val," Amaleen replied. She hugged my head against her body a moment, rubbing my muzzle. "I'll be here for you if you need me."

Amaleen patted Valar's head, and quickly retreated into her home. As I imagined Kylaryn didn't know where Amaleen's house was, I didn't want her to get any more worried while flying around and seeking us out. So I leapt into the air and circled Amaleen's home. Kylaryn's blue scales shone brilliantly in the sunlight as she flew around the town, nearly in a panic. I called out and waited until she'd spotted me, then dropped myself back to the ground.

A few moments later, and Kylaryn had dropped down into the garden as well. Before she'd even finished folding her wings against her body, she bound past me and straight to Valaranyx. Valar jumped up and did his best to run towards her, squealing with glee. Thankfully he didn't have to run far because Kylaryn made sure she reached him as quickly as she could.

"Mother! Mother!" Valar yelled in delight, flinging himself at one of her front legs and clinging tightly. "I missed yooooou!"

For a moment I couldn't help envisioning Kylaryn scooping him up and hugging him tightly against herself, unknowingly popping out all his stitches. Thankfully the assortment of bandages still covering his body made it quite clear she had to handle him delicately. It also made it quite clear his injuries were more significant than my message had led on. I hadn't wanted her to panic.

"Valaranyx!" She cried out, gently easing her foreleg away from him so that she could flop down upon her belly to be at his level. "Oh, Gods, my dear son! What happened to you?"

"I got hurt!" Valar's reply was adorably matter-of-fact and oblivious to the real question.

Kylaryn began to lick him all over his face, head and ears, nuzzling and purring to him. "My poor love!" Her voice sounded nearly as pained as Valar's when he was first injured. "What...what happened to you?"

That was the question I'd been dreading most of all. Until that moment, Kylaryn probably thought he'd fallen down a cliff or something. Tumbled down a rocky slope and gotten all banged up. She'd still have been angry with me then, but the truth was far worse. Especially to Kylaryn. I wanted to break it to her gently. I wanted to walk her through the entire story, to tell her how it happened, to try and make it easier on both of us.

Valar, in his innocent exuberance, denied me that chance. "Humans shot me!" As soon as he'd said it he seemed to remember it himself, going quiet and pressing his head against his mother's chest.

Kylaryn's head jerked up as though she'd just had her chin stung by a wasp. The gesture made me wince. That wasn't how I wanted her to find out. She lifted her paw and ever-so-gently pulled Valar against herself, enclosing him in her protective embrace. Slowly, she turned her smoldering silver gaze towards me. Embers of old pain burned brighter than ever, filled with an accusing sort of anger.

"Humans did this to him?" She hissed softly, glaring at me. "You let humans do this to him?"

Perhaps her accusation should have made me angry. It wasn't as though I'd intended this to happen. Never in all the world would I _let_anyone harm my son. And yet they had. He was mine to protect, and I had allowed them to hurt him terribly. I'd very nearly allowed them to take his young life. She accused me with her eyes because in her own way, she knew it was true. I think there was little I could do to wound Kylaryn more deeply than to let humans injure our son.

"It wasn't like that," I murmured, looking down at my paws. Shame burned across my muzzle and in my ears, reddening them. "We were sleeping under the stars. I was fast asleep, and..." I faltered a little. I thought I knew just what to tell her, I'd planned it all out. Rehearsed it in my head time and again until the script was cast in stone. But Valar's blunt explanation of the event had shattered the tablet of my words and now all I could do was stumble and trip over the broken pieces. "You know how he wakes up and slips away."

"Why were you sleeping anywhere near humans?" Kylaryn's voice was a hoarse, strained whisper. I wasn't sure if she was struggling to keep from crying, or to prevent herself from tearing my ears off with her teeth. "You know what they do to us!"

"They don't all do that," I heard myself say before I'd thought better of it.

"Yes they do!" Kylaryn shot back at me, dipping her head towards Valar who looked as though he was trying to bury himself beneath his mother. "Look at our son and tell me they don't all murder dragons!"

"They don't," I insisted, a little heat rising into my voice. "Amaleen saved his life!"

"She should have never had to!" Kylaryn snapped her jaws. "Why would you sleep anywhere near humans, anyway?"

"Valar wanted..." I didn't know what else to say. "To stay out a little longer..."

"And you thought that was a good idea?" She growled at me, lashing her tail against the grass. "Did you know there were humans nearby?"

"I...I didn't think..." I took a breath and it froze in my lungs. I forced it back out. "They couldn't get up the ledge! But...I didn't think Valar would jump down..."

"You never think about a damn thing, do you Valyrym! Whatever seems right for the moment, that's what you do!" Kylaryn waved her paw in the air, her claws half unsheathed as though she were imagining digging them into my face. "You'd think at some point in your life you'd have learned to actually take a moment and think about the consequences of your actions! But time and again you just do whatever the hell you want, whenever the hell you want to do it! Oh, there are humans around, but we'll just stay out here anyway, because I can't be bothered to stop and think for one second that something bad might happen!"

"I didn't think they could get to him..." If I hung my head any lower it would be buried in the earth.

"Once again, you didn't think! Just like always!" Kylaryn snarled her bitter fury at me as Valar whimpered into her chest plates. Kylaryn hugged him tighter. "Only this time, your lack of thought almost got our son killed!"

"Don't fight!" Valaranyx suddenly cried out in a half-sobbed plea for a truce between his parents. Tears ran down his little black and blue tipped muzzle as he peered back and forth between us, pressed against Kylaryn. I suddenly felt worse for him than either of us. All this time waiting for his mother to return while he heals, and when she finally arrived his vibrant joy was quickly trampled beneath our anger and our pain.

"...We...shouldn't have this conversation in front of him," was all I managed to say.

Kylaryn took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She let it out very slowly. "No. We should not." She turned her head away, gritting her sharp teeth as she blinked away tears. A few of them ran down the soft blue scales of her face anyway. "I don't know if I can forgive you for this, Valyrym."

"I haven't forgiven myself, either." I did not mean it as a plea for sympathy. I meant it honestly. There were, and still are, a few things I may never truly forgive myself for. Along with Lenira, letting Valar be injured was one of the first.

Kylaryn glanced back at me. Some of the anger had faded from her eyes, and sorrow had replaced it. "I would like to be alone with my son, Valyrym." She looked away again, staring at the wall that cut this place off from the city around it. "I do not know how long I can stay here, in the middle of so many of...them. How long must Valar stay?"

"Probably another month, at least." I may as well have slapped Kylaryn across the muzzle. "I'll...tell you exactly what happened later...if you want..."

Kylaryn did not reply. Valaranyx was crying harder now, and she lowered her head to coo and nuzzle him. He wasn't used to seeing us fight. Usually when it happened we just separated for a little while until we cooled down. I wasn't sure that was going to work this time. I wasn't sure Kylaryn and I were going to work anymore, either.

As I flared my wings, ready to depart for a while, Kylaryn spoke up. "Where is Amaleen? I would like to..." She winced at the idea. "Thank her. For...being the only human to ever give a damn about a dragon."

"She is in her house, I think...She needs to change his bandages soon, anyway."

Kylaryn nodded, and went back to comforting our still-crying son. He nuzzled her back, but when he saw my flare my wings out, he reached towards me. He opened his paw as if trying to ask me to stay. It broke my heart, because I knew I could not linger. Much as I wanted to hold my son, I could not stay. My continued presence would only make things harder on Kylaryn, and that would only make things worse on Valaranyx.

"I'll see you soon, my Love," I said to Valar, choking over the words.

I clenched my jaw, and forced myself into the skies as soon as I could find the strength to do so. If I hesitated any longer I was afraid I'd try and comfort Valar myself, and I was terrified Kylaryn might not let me. If in her own pain and anger, she tried to keep me from him with her claws, Valaranyx would not understand.

I beat my wings swiftly, rising as fast as I could. I ascended until I could see the entire town spread out beneath me like a brown and gray blister upon the land. Still I rose, higher and higher until the air grew cold and my lungs began to ache from the effort of breathing. Then I folded my wings, and let myself plummet back to earth. Gradually I unfurled my wings, just enough to slow my descent so that I'd not tear them from my body when I attempted to prevent myself from crashing into the ground.

I swooped over the town, then rose once more. I ascended as swiftly as I could till my wings burned from the strain. I took a deep breath of icy air, and roared to the winds. My roar a sound of fury and sorrow, unleashing all the pent up stress and anger that had built in me since the day my son was injured. Kylaryn blamed me, and in my heart I was half convinced she was right. I wanted to be there with Valaranyx now but she did not want me around. I did not know if she'd ever want me around again.

For a time, I simply flew. I swooped and dove and rose and roared at the peak of my ascent. A sound of anger at its apex but by the time the noise settled down against the town it was probably stretched and twisted, softened into a sound more filled with anguish than rage. Yet that too was appropriate. I was not a creature accustomed to feeling this kind of emotional pain, this sort of twisting, writhing uncertainty about everything. Yet it seemed I was increasingly destined to feel such terrible weight against my wings ever more often.

When I had worn myself out with my constant rising and falling through the air, I glided back towards the town. I do not know how long I had been flying, yet somehow I doubted enough time had passed for me to join Kylaryn again. That might take days. It might take longer. My wings ached. I wanted to land somewhere, and curl up for a while. I considered returning to town, and curling beneath that apple tree where Amaleen had finally seen me at my all. Yet I did not wish to be surrounded by other people.

I dipped a wing, and flew towards the sprawling gravestone-marked hills. I had not visited Lenira's grave in some time. It seemed as good a place as any to curl up on my own for a while. Though the graves now spread far beyond the place they'd buried Lenira, I could still find her headstone by heart. I settled down atop the hill, and carefully walked the paths between the grave markers until I found Lenira's.

To my surprise, with a bit of struggle I was able to read the words there. I had to sound them out, and I couldn't get all of them, but I was able to put the pieces together in my head. For the first time, I saw how her name was spelled in the human tongue. I could even read it out loud with a little effort.

"Le-neer-ah," I said, getting as close as I could. I felt strangely proud of myself. I smiled, and tried to read more of it. "Hee-ler. Ha. Ha-rt. Heart of...kii. Kind...Heart of kindness." Yes, I liked that. I struggled through the rest of it best I could.

Lenira. Healer, heart of kindness, friend to those in need. Beloved mother. You will always be missed. My name is Valyrym, and I was always your friend.

Once I had worked my way through the words, I read it all again in my head. To my surprise I read both the human tongue inscriptions and the draconic sigils I'd carved myself without realizing the difference. That made my smile a little bit. I gently ran a few fingers over the inscription I'd carved nearly two decades ago. Or had it been even longer? I wished I'd kept better track of the time.

Rum, please. ...Thank you, Alia.

I did not know who had added the part about Lenira being someone's beloved mother, but I suspected it was Amaleen. I knew Lenira had adopted her when she was young, though I did not yet know how Amaleen came to find herself orphaned as a child. I did not think Lenira had any children she had birthed herself but I was not sure. I wondered if Amaleen was the only adopted child she had raised? Given Lenira's generosity, and the size of her heart, I suspected not.

Once more I wished so fervently I had not squandered her love. It was no surprise she took to raising children with no parents of their own. After all she had so much love for me and yet I so rarely gave her a chance to share it. She turned that love to children in need, instead. She had been a wonderful person, and I had so foolishly, so disgustingly neglected her for so many years.

My throat tightened, and I turned my head away from her stone. I lay down, curling up just beyond Lenira's grave. I felt tears burning in my eyes, and for a time I wondered if I deserved to feel this way. Then I wondered if Kylaryn would come to hate me the same way Amaleen once had. The situation was quite different and yet in my pained state I could not help but fear it, and dread it.

I lay my head on the sun-warmed grass, and closed my eyes, wishing I'd been a better creature.

I had tried so hard, since I lost Lenira. Tried so hard since my son was hatched to make myself something he could be proud of. Something I myself would be proud of. I had tried to enjoy the days as they passed, tried to remember that even for a dragon time and life were finite. Tried to treat others better than I had in the past. And yet what had that gotten me? A son who not long ago clung to the fabric of life by the barest of threads, and a mate who blamed me for the fact he may never fly.

I did not usually wallow in self-pity; it suited no purpose and I knew that. But at that moment I was in so much pain I found it hard to pull myself from that particular mire. I imagined I would feel a bit better in time, but situations like that seemed so unusual to a dragon I had little experience by which to remember it. In a way it was like when Lenira had died. The pain had eventually faded to a gentle ache in the back of my mind, and I took solace in the fact that this pain too would pass.

I must have dozed off. A thin film of dream settled upon my mind. Little more than disconnected images that flickered across my unconscious eyes. Flying in the rain. Eggshells cracking. Pressing myself against Kylaryn. Then the dream shifted, growing a bit more solid. It took shape in an image I'd imagined now and then as something I wished could have taken place. Lenira was riding me, she was still vibrant and young. She holding Valar, and the two of them were giggling together in glee. It was a wonderful image, and if I'd been given the choice at that very moment I might have chosen to live in it forever. I had never completely believed in the notion of heaven as an actual afterlife, and yet if heaven was simply an ever lasting dream of something so pure and happy, I would almost gladly fling myself beyond the gates of death.

"I thought I'd find you here," Amaleen's voice only half roused me from my sleep.

"Mmm?" I murmured, lifting my head and blinking groggily at her. "Lenira?"

"No, you silly thing," Amaleen said. She settled down on the grass next to my head, and stroked my muzzle. "It's Amaleen. Were you dreaming about her?"

I licked my muzzle as I tried to collect my senses. The memory of that dream flitted back through my mind and made me smile. "Yes. She was young again, and riding on my back. She was holding Valar."

Amaleen giggled a little. "She would have loved him."

"Yes," I said, closing my eyes and sighing a little. "She would have."

We sat and enjoyed the silence together for a little while. I lifted my head and placed it on her lap, and she gently stroked my muzzle. She rubbed my ears a bit, and soon had me purring like a kitten. I did not want to break the silence, but I had to ask how things had gone while I was away.

"How is Kylaryn?"

"Angry," Amaleen admitted. "And hurt, and confused, and bitter, and frightened."

I sighed. "I'm sorry if she lashed out at you."

"She did not," Amaleen said, rubbing me between my eyes. "She was quite polite, actually. But her pain was in her words. It's not fair of her to blame you, though."

I merely grunted. I didn't exactly agree.

"It isn't," Amaleen insisted. "And it wasn't fair of her to berate you and hurt you like that, either. I don't know that she meant to hurt you the way she did when she said those things, but that doesn't make it fair. Or right."

"You heard that, did you?"

Amaleen chuckled a little. "It's hard not to hear an angry dragon yelling, Valyrym."

A ghost of a smile flitted over my snout. "I suppose you have a point." I licked my nose. "Is Valar alright?"

"Yes, he's alright. He was a little frightened that she was yelling at you, and...I think he was a little offended on your behalf." She ran her hand over my spiny crests, and then stroked me between my horns. "When I was changing his bandages, he told Kylaryn it wasn't nice to yell at Father because Father didn't hurt him, the humans did."

That made me smile just a little more. But it did not last long. "I wanted to explain everything to her. But I never really got the chance. Now I don't think she wants to see me at all."

"You should give her a few days," Amaleen said. "Besides, I'm sure you could use a break from eating human food and spending all your days stuck in some woman's back garden. Valar will be alright till then. Kylaryn will cool down eventually, and hopefully she'll be willing to listen to reason."

"You're probably right," I murmured, closing my eyes again. "I don't think things will be the same for us, though."

"You always told me you were only in it for the sex, anyway," Amaleen said, giggling.

Her teasing made me laugh just a little as well. She seemed increasingly good at doing that. "I don't think that's quite how I put it." I smirked a little. "But I shall miss that as well."

"I'm sure you'll manage one way or another." Amaleen patted my nose, unable to stop herself from teasing me a little more. "When I return home in a few days, shall I have some girls rounded up for you?"

"Oh, very funny Amaleen," I muttered, though I couldn't quite hide my grin, or the amused flick of my spined tail. "I don't think I'll be going back down that road, no."

Then something else caught my attention. I'd missed it at first, but after a moment I realized what she'd actually said. She was going to be away from home for a few days. I wondered if she'd been called away to some emergency meeting or some sort of leadership gathering between the six cities. "Wait, a few days? Where are you going to be till then?"

Amaleen was quiet for a moment. When she finally replied, there was an unexpected hesitancy in her voice, as though she were afraid I wouldn't like her answer. "I'll be with you."

"With...me?" I slowly lifted my head, uncertain.

"If you'll have me," She said, looking at her hands. Then she seemed to think I might take that the wrong way. "I mean, if you want me around. I think it's best you stay away a few days, but...I didn't think you'd want to be alone. Maybe you do, I don't know."

Amaleen was...flustered? Worried about what I thought? I lifted my head, and gazed beyond her. For the first time I noticed that further down the hill she had a large bag packed as if ready for a trip. She was serious about spending a few days with me. I stared at the bag a moment, and then turned my gaze back to her, increasingly unsure. This time, I found matching uncertainty in her blue eyes, and something else behind that striking defiant glow I'd always found so fascinating. I couldn't quite tell what else I saw, but the possibilities both thrilled and frightened me.

Amaleen did not seem to know how to take my silence. I lowered my head a little, and she leaned forward till the soft skin of her forehead was pressed against the pebbly scales of my snout. "I just didn't think you'd want to be alone right now," she said, repeating her sentiment from a moment earlier.

"I don't," I admitted. It was a difficult realization for me to make. After so many years content with my own solitude, I had come to rely upon the presence of others. Be it Kylaryn or Valar or a visit from my sister. Or Amaleen. She had grown into a presence in my life I did not want to be without and I was only now beginning to realize it.

"Then you won't be," Amaleen murmured, stroking my throat.

"We are..." My mouth felt dry, my throat a little tight. I croaked out the words anyway. "Friends now, aren't we?"

Amaleen gave a little laugh. "We are, Valyrym. I fear we may be edging towards something more than that."

I almost asked why she feared that, but the answer was all around me. Lenira. The grave. The lightly attended funeral. The city below and Amaleen's duty to it. It was the worry that should she truly come to feel for me, I would treat her no better than I had treated Lenira. The fear that her city may treat her just as badly. As I pondered it, Amaleen turned her attention to Lenira's headstone. As she stared at it, her fears must have seemed all to real.

It was a fear I could not fault her for, and in truth, a fear part of me shared. For so long I was unsure if I'd ever truly loved Lenira the way she loved me, just as I was unsure if I'd ever truly love Kylaryn. I was starting to that way now about Amaleen, and yet...with Amaleen, it began to feel...

"Different," I whispered to her. I touched her arm, and she turned her wet blue eyes away from the tombstone to meet my own. I wanted to explain what I meant, but another hoarse whisper was all I could manage. "Things would be so different for us."

Amaleen hugged my head against her body. She understood what I meant. Somehow, she always understood. Amaleen held me tightly, her warmth pressed against mine. For long moments we shared comfort together. She believed me. More importantly, I believed myself.

Things_would_ be different between Amaleen and I. Whether we were simply friends or became something greater, I would treat her better than I'd treated Lenira. Amaleen, in her heart, had come to understand me. She knew my strengths and she knew my faults and one by one she had come to accept them all. I would always have time for her. I would never neglect her. Whatever happened between us, I would always be there for her. In my own heart, I knew I had never felt quite that way about anyone before.

Amaleen was right. We were moving towards something more, and in our own way, we both knew it.

"I wish I'd seen your heart earlier, Valyrym," Amaleen said softly as she pulled her head back from mine.

"I wish I'd had one to show you earlier," I replied, smiling a little.

She rubbed my nose and I smiled back at her. For a little while, we stared into each other's eyes. Once, we'd done so as though hoping to find the answers to some great puzzle. Now, I felt as though we were each searching the other's eyes for new puzzles to solve together. When our gaze finally broke, Amaleen turned and made her way to pick up her pack, and sling it over her shoulders.

"We should tell Kylaryn I'm going to be gone a few days." I rose to all fours. "And make sure your apprentices know what they need to do for Valar. And that Valar knows someone else will be changing his bandages."

Come to think of it, there were a lot of things that needed to be done. I wanted to say goodbye to Valar as well, even though I'd only be gone for a few days. When Amaleen had her pack situated, she returned to me. I hadn't really noticed before, but she'd changed out of the dress she'd been wearing earlier, and into a pair of black breeches with golden threads. She also wore a lilac blouse with faintly frilly sleeves, and a pair of well-traveled boots rather than her usual simple sandals. She had her hair tied back behind her head, her slightly sharp features more strikingly outlined than usual.

"I've already done all that, Valyrym."

"You have?" I pulled my head back, slightly surprised.

"Yes. I thought that going back into town now was going to be harder for you than it needs to be. I told my apprentices and Kylaryn that I was going to suggest you take a few days off from watching over Valar, and try to relax. I also told them that if you wanted me to go with you, I was going to agree." She shrugged her shoulders, grinning. "The worst you could say is no." She pursed her lips a little. "If you'd said you'd rather be alone I would have understood."

I shook my head, smiling to myself. I definitely did not want to be alone. I'd certainly never expected Amaleen to offer to join me for a few days, but now that the offer was there I was damn sure going to take it. I hoped I wasn't becoming to reliant on her comforts lately. I had done what I could to comfort her when she seemed to need it, and it was possible this trip together was as much for her as it was for me.

"I rather doubt you will mind getting away from your duties for a few days, either," I said with a little smile.

"I certainly will not, and I hope that doesn't make me sound neglectful." Amaleen came over to me and rubbed my neck. "Are you ready to go? I know you want to go say goodbye to Valar, but you'd have to see Kylaryn again. I don't really want you two fighting in front of him."

I found myself growling in amusement. "You sound like you think you're his mother."

"If I thought I was his mother I'd be saying dirty things around him and blaming you when he repeated them."

"Ah, so you know Kylaryn better than you let on," I said, grinning. I was already feeling a little better. Amaleen had an amazing way of doing that to me. No matter how bad I felt, or how much I hurt, Amaleen lifted my spirits simply by being herself. Given the way she used to have the opposite effect it was quite an amazing transformation.

Alia, I will pause here for only a moment. Because I want to tell you something. You are the only person since Amaleen to have that effect on me. Whenever you are around, I simply feel happier. You make my small, dark world a much brighter place, and I want to thank you for that. Yes, I know. Now, should you repeat that, I shall deny it to my grave.

Because it's damaging to my dragonly persona. Yes, I do have a dragonly persona.

I decided that Amaleen was right. As much as I wanted to wish Valar farewell for a few days, I knew in the long run it was probably better I not return just yet. Kylaryn knew I would be gone, and she would be able to smooth over Valar's sorrow about my absence far more easily if I didn't suddenly reappear in the middle of her explanation as to why I wouldn't be there tonight. I rustled my wings, and looked Amaleen over.

"You know, I think that may be the first time I have seen you in something other than a gown, or a dress." I gestured towards her breeches.

Amaleen tugged at them a little. "I don't wear them too often. I tend to prefer skirts and dresses and things, makes me feel as though I'm dressed like a man when I wear something like this. But a dress didn't seem very appropriate, or very practical for riding a dragon."

"Riding a dragon?" I pulled my head back, grinning playfully. "Who says you get to ride me?"

"If you think for one moment I'm going to let you snatch me off the ground in your paws again," Amaleen shook a single finger at me. "It won't be your claws I'm dangling from, it shall be something far more sensitive!"

That made my laugh. "Oh yes. I forgot I yanked you right off the earth. I don't think I've ever heard such a squeal before."

Amaleen put her hands on her hips, glaring at me. That lovely defiance shone in her eyes. "I've heard such a squeal before. The night earlier when I kicked you in the stones."

I smirked at her. "Why do you think I decided to scare the hell out of you?" Then I relented, lowering myself down onto my belly. "Alright then, Amaleen. Climb upon my back."

Amaleen walked around to the side of my body, and then paused. She was unsure of how to mount a dragon.

Yes, Val Junior, you're right. Alia would enjoy learning how to mount a dragon. Perhaps we shall try that sometime. Oh, don't give me that look Alia, you're laughing too.

Amaleen's first attempt went nowhere. She reached up onto my back and put her foot against my side. Her boot simply slid down my scales. I turned my head to try and guide her, only for her to snatch at my ear when my face ventured too close to her. I yelped, twisting my head.

"Unhand my ear at once!" I yowled.

Amaleen released it and grasped my horn instead, wrenching my head painfully to the side. With her other hand she grasped at the fleshy joint where my wing met my body, and hauled herself up. Blatantly ignoring my yelps of pain she climbed onto my back, and settled herself just near where my neck met my body. She patted my neck, and grinned at me.

"There, that wasn't so bad," she said, giggling.

"Tell that my twisted neck and bruised wing-joint," I muttered, rubbing my upper neck with a paw.

"Oh, don't complain." She patted my neck. "Take it slow, alright? I've never ridden a dragon before..."

"I'd never have guessed from the elegant way you smoothly ascended." I shook myself under her, growling. "Now, hold on, and try not to piss yourself."

I gave her just a moment to lean forward and wrap her arms around the base of my neck. As soon as she did so, I leapt into the air as forcefully as I could. From the way Amaleen squealed, this take off must have startled her just as badly as the last time I'd carried her anywhere. Good. That ought to pay her back for yanking on my ear and my horn.

No, Alia, my horns are not sensitive in and of themselves, but they _are_attached to my skull.

I spiraled upwards, and soon leveled out to give Amaleen a chance to catch her breath. Were it not for the scales of my lower neck she'd damn near be strangling me with her fear-tightened grip. As my flight smoothed, her deathgrip on my neck gradually relaxed, and so the rest of her. Soon, she was growing bold enough to peer over my side.

"Oh, Gods!" She cried out in childlike joy. "It's beautiful! Valyrym, I never knew it was so beautiful!"

I found myself laughing. Her joy was infectious. Only once before in her life had she seen the world from above. And that time she'd been too furious, and too frightened to truly appreciate it. As for myself, it had been a long time since I'd looked down at the world and genuinely admired its beauty from above. In the back of my mind I still feared it was a joy my son would never know. Yet I was not going to let my worries dampen this moment. I wanted to share Amaleen's simple joy. I gave a little roar, a trumpeting sound of draconic happiness.

After long moments of watching the world fall away and broaden into a sprawling tapestry of brilliant greens and silvery grays, Amaleen grabbed my neck again, this time tightly hugging me.

"Thank you!" She shouted above the sound of the rushing winds.

"For what?" I called back to her.

"For showing me your world!"

I turned my head to smile back at her, and saw only joy burning in her blue eyes. She caught my smile, and shared it with me. As I turned my eyes back to the horizon, I wondered just how long it had been now since Lenira first told Amaleen what it was like to fly on my back. I knew she must have described it to her. Amaleen may have hated me once, but one look into her eyes and it was clear she'd secretly hoped to fly herself some day. I wondered how long she'd been waiting and hoping for me to take her flying.

I was happy she didn't have to wait as long as Lenira.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked her. I'd thought about going home, but that seemed so...anti-climatic. Besides, my home would seem empty without Valar. If the idea was to try and relax a little, that wouldn't help at all.

"Anywhere!" Amaleen cried out, then gave another joyous shriek.

"Somewhere special!" I glanced back at her again. "Lead me somewhere that's special to you!"

Amaleen sat up a little straighter. Even tied behind her head, her black hair was whipping around. She peered down either side of my body till she got her bearings. Then, with a huge smile spread across her beautiful lips, she pointed towards the mountains well beyond Sigil Stones.

"Just fly that way! I'll tell you where to go."

I dipped a wing, and angled myself in the direction she pointed. "So be it, Amaleen!"

Wherever we were going, I would be happy just to have her there with me.

---

Chapter Six

---

Amaleen guided me northwest of Sigil Stones, up into the mountains. There was a narrow pass there, and for all the years I had claimed this land as my own, never once had I flown into that pass. In truth I'd barely recognized its existence. Now, I could see that a trail ran along the bottom of it, wide enough for horses to pull carts but certainly no wider. I had no idea where Amaleen might be leading me, but I found myself increasingly curious to see what sort of place she held dear to herself.

As I flew into the mountains, what seemed at first a small pass gradually expanded into a larger canyon. A narrow but swiftly flowing river cut through the stone, waters poured in white waves across time-smoothed stones and boulders. Alongside the water on a slightly raised area was the trail that Amaleen's people must have forged generations ago. Towering, rugged gray cliffs jutted up on either side of it, rising high enough to blot out the sun for long stretches of time. Here and there stubborn shrubs and bushes jutted out from the gray stone wherever their roots managed to take hold. There were even a few trees twisted into odd shapes, their gnarled roots jutting from crevices in the rock.

While at first I was surprised I'd never bothered to investigate this pass before, it did not take me long to realize why. Though I'd glimpsed it now and then, it had always seemed as though it might be too narrow to navigate upon my wings and thus of little interest to a dragon. As it turned out I was very nearly right. At certain points during the flight my wing tips came close to brushing the hard granite walls of the narrow canyon for long stretches. I had to measure each wing beat carefully, and more than once I found myself holding my breath. Here and there wind currents hit me hard. The wind bounced off the canyon walls, funneled between their confines. It buffeted me back and forth and I had to work quite hard to keep myself flying steady.

I told Amaleen to hang on tightly, and she was quick to do so. Though, I never told Amaleen quite how dangerous it was. I suggested to her I could fly above the top of the mountains, but I did not know how well a human would take to such thin, cold air. And Amaleen wasn't sure she could find our destination without following a familiar path.

As we flew, she explained a little bit about where we were going. Apparently this trail was one her people had been following for a very long time. It lead deep into the mountains, and was once a place where some of them had mined ores, or cut stone from quarries. It was a journey that took several days for them, and given the narrow scope of the trail, they could only bring out small cartfuls of stone at a time. As a result, they'd moved onto other areas once they were discovered. Nowadays, the trail lead to a sort of healers retreat. It was a place they often went for training. She claimed Lenira had taken her there in her younger days, and that Lenira's own master had taken her there before that. Apparently this was the place Amaleen learned some of the techniques she'd used to save my son.

As she talked I grew increasingly curious.

Now and then we passed a few intersecting other canyons that looked remarkably similar to the one we were traveling in. I could see why Amaleen might not want me to fly too high right now. From the air they might all look the same, but while flying a bit lower she could more easily associate the path we traveled with the trail in her memories. Still, I was glad when the canyon finally began to open up a little bit. On the way back I was already planning to fly higher, if Amaleen could handle it.

To my surprise we came upon a small village when the canyon finally widened further. The village was set into series of cliff-side ledges that rose up along one side of the trail, where the canyon bottom was widest. There were only a few dozen homes at most, but their construction was quite impressive. Homes of stone and clay brick were built along the higher edges to protect them from the snowmelt floods that likely swelled the river every spring. Some of the homes seemed carved from the mountainside itself, others sheltered in slot-like caverns along the cliffs. Down below the cliffs and ledges, there was a wider, meadow like area where thick grass and a few trees grew. Herds of goat and shaggy oxen grazed there, seemingly unperturbed by the arrival of a dragon.

Obviously no one in this little village knew me, but they didn't seem the least bit frightened when Amaleen instructed me to land. I wasn't sure if they'd simply never learned to fear dragons, or if it was just because I happened to have a human woman riding on my back. But as I settled into the meadow, eying one of the oxen, a swarm of villagers soon surrounded me. I was starting to get used to having people around me. Yet it still seemed an odd thing to have what seemed like an entire village's population suddenly crowding around me, chattering at me as they sought to touch my scales.

They seemed to know Amaleen. She jumped off my back, greeting them and in a roundabout way explained that I was the dragon who protected her village. I found that a nice sentiment even if it wasn't true in the same way it once was. Still, that meant they'd heard of me before. I tolerated their curiosity and allowed them to touch my scales and my spines, though I drew the line at children climbing upon my back. They tried to do so anyway, and I enlisted Amaleen's aid in requesting that the parents control their brats. Better the village think Amaleen was unpleasant than myself.

Thanks to Amaleen we were given a meal, though as it was already getting a bit late we did not want to dally too long. We hoped my wings would enable us to complete the trip by nightfall. It would have helped if I knew exactly where I was going, but Amaleen seemed convinced we still had plenty of time to stop and eat. I could not say I argued. After all there was rarely a time a dragon would not accept food.

We had some kind of heavy, grainy bread, a strongly flavored oxen cheese, and some roasted fish and goat. I had the feeling that the people did not have much food to choose from so I happily accepted what they were willing to give me. I did not bother to ask what the village was really called, but in my mind I called it the Hidden Village, because I'd never realized it was there.

When Amaleen had filled her belly and I'd had a nice snack, she climbed up on my back again. This time she managed to make the journey without wrenching my head and ears. Once she was settled I was quick to return to the air, and once more followed her instructions towards my destination, heading upstream through the canyon.

Eventually the trail we were following split off and went up another canyon, though thankfully this one was a little wider. The walls here were not near as steep, either. In fact their steepness gradually lessened until we were surrounded not with sheer cliffs but with heavily sloped hills strewn with boulders and blanketed with thick forests of dark green pine and white barked aspen. It was quite beautiful, really, and with more room to see where the hell I was going, I ascended a little higher.

Not long after I'd risen in the air, I spotted something in the distance that would slip into my dreams for the rest of my life. An immense, towering waterfall that cascaded over a jagged cliff. The cliff had an odd, unique look to it, as though it were made by some living thing rather than carved of the earth itself. A series of flat, stony ledges the color of old ash were stacked one on top of the other, each a little different shape and size than the one before it. The river that ran beyond them toppled down each of those ledges as though it were descending a staircase before it finally cascaded off the edge completely, and fell the rest of the way to the brilliant blue pool below. I saw the waterfall at just such a time so that the late afternoon sun shone directly upon it. It looked like a stream of molten fire pouring through the air, as though it were melting through the stone itself. As I closed the distance, I could see the spray rising from the base of the waterfall. In the sunlight it looked like a flurry of golden embers showering the world with specks of brilliant heat.

"That," Amaleen called out to me, laughing and hugging my neck. "Is where we are going!"

I flew on, approaching the waterfall and the area around it. Beneath the waterfall the valley was wide and the basin relatively flat for a distance. A sweeping panorama of green carpeted much of the land, the trees had not yet begun to change for the coming autumn. I could only imagine that within a few months, when the aspens and oaks began to turn, the still-verdant pine trees would than look as though they were caught up in a sea of orange-yellow fire.

"Fly that way!" Amaleen pointed towards the right of the waterfall. She indicated an area where many of the trees had been cleared away ages go. In their place stood strange pillars of stone and immense boulders, as well as what appeared to be an assortment of unusual sculptures. "Land near those stones!"

As I headed for the stony field, I spotted something else that surprised me. A house made of carefully cut and stacked logs sat off at a distance, just at the edge of the forest. Like many of the homes from Amaleen's town, it had a carefully sloped roof, and several wooden barrels designed to collect rainwater. But unlike most of the homes in Amaleen's city, the entire building seemed made from heavy logs stacked together and cut so they interlocked. It almost looked like something a child might build from sticks, if only a child had the engineering knowledge to make it sturdy enough to withstand the changing seasons.

"Is that a house?" I asked, incredulous despite knowing the obvious answer.

"Yes," Amaleen said, giggling a little. "That's where the old hermit lives!"

"Please tell me you're joking!" I hissed, descending swiftly.

"I am!" Amaleen called out over the rushing wind. My relief only lasted a moment. "He's actually not that old!"

I grumbled under my breath, circling around the area as I looked for a spot to land. The waterfall and the river beneath it were a little ways off. Between the water and the log cabin at the edge of the woods was a large area that resembled some storybook forest of stone. The least unusual facet of the landscape were the many, pitted granite boulders that dotted the area. Spread amongst those massive rocks were far more extraordinary stone structures. There were towering columns aimed straight at the sky, there were pillars arched and curved like claws, and there were all manner of sculptures carved into abstract forms both fluid and angular. Even from above I could tell many of the various stone shapes were marked all across their rough exteriors with lines and swirls of sigils. In between the skeletal-looking stones the ground was flush with a carpet of soft emerald grass, dotted with patches of blue and scarlet wildflowers.

I touched down on my hind paws on a flat, grassy area where a few old tree stumps had long since been reduced to little more than homes for insects and heavy clusters of white, shelf-like fungus. I glanced around and took stock of the myriad stone forms that surrounded us. The place held an almost mystical quality to it that I'd rarely felt before. As Amaleen slid down off my back, I glanced back at her with a mixture of suspicion and excitement.

"Is this old man some kind of sculptor or what?"

"Something like that," Amaleen said, patting my shoulder. "Don't worry, Valyrym. You told me to bring you somewhere special, and I did. The healer won't bother us that much, and I promise you're going to want to see what he has to show you."

"If he plans to show me something, I hope he keeps his pants on," I muttered, and Amaleen burst out laughing. I found myself smiling. I had come to learn she rather enjoyed it when I got a little sarcastic. "If that's why you've brought me here I think you'll be disappointed. I have seen what human males have to offer and I was not impressed."

"You prefer male dragons, do you?"

"At least it wouldn't be lost amidst a entire forest of hair," I snorted, grinning at her. "And before you ask, it was some bandit I made strip nude to teach him a humiliating lesson in return for sparing his life."

Amaleen only laughed harder, and turned to walk away. "That was going to be my next question, yes. But since you already answered it, instead I'll ask how many male dragons have you had your fun with?"

"None," I said with a firm snort. Then I glanced away, grinning sheepishly. "Though Kylaryn and Narymiryn have certainly encouraged me to compare plows with Korvarak."

"Compare...Oh!" Amaleen pressed a hand to her mouth, though it did little to stifle her giggles. "Is that what you dragons call it when two males..."

"It is an inside joke," I snapped, irritable. Though I couldn't help teasing my absent friend. "I think Korvarak is more amiable to the idea than I am. Still, I shall not be indulging this hermit in any such way."

Amaleen grinned at me. "The healer's not the only reason I brought you here, of course. I want you see that waterfall, too."

That was the second time she'd referred to this mysterious hermit as a healer. Earlier Amaleen mentioned honing her craft in this place. Perhaps this man was a sort of master healer who took on pupils to train them in the medical arts. Maybe he'd actually be able to explain to me what the hell Amaleen's apprentices had been doing with all that rock dust, blood and rainwater while they were working on my son.

I padded after Amaleen as she walked across the field, and gazed around. There had to be dozens of carvings and sculptures here. I paused at a boulder that was cut with a series of intricate, angular lines. I had seen that sort of design a few times before, in Sigil Stones. It looked like the sort of thing I'd watched a man inscribe in the graveyard, around the time of Lenira's funeral. I searched the boulder's exterior a moment, and soon enough I spotted the very sigil I'd once carved with Amaleen's help. I touched the symbol with my paw, glancing over at Amaleen.

"You helped me carve something like this," I said softly.

"Yes, I did," Amaleen said, coming to a stop. "This is where I learned that symbol."

"I thought it was from your village," I said, following after her again.

"It's from our ancestry, anyway," she replied. "It's used in our village, but not everyone knows it's meanings or uses anymore. Until I came up here with Lenira I didn't really know either."

Amaleen took off her pack as she walked, and slung it down against the ground. I wondered if that meant she planned to make camp right here amidst all the strange stones and pillars jutting from the earth. When I'd spotted that house I thought perhaps she would sleep inside it. Yet if she was leaving her belongings out here, perhaps she wished to spend the night alongside me instead. I wouldn't be surprised. After all she ended up cuddled against me almost every time she gave Valar and I our reading lessons.

My heart ached a moment at the thought of Valar. He would have loved that huge, sunlit waterfall. I'd have to bring him here later, if Amaleen and her hermit-healer agreed to it. Hmmph! What was I thinking. I was a dragon, I'd just do it if I wanted. I grimaced and cursed myself for that line of thinking. It was that sort of thought that had gotten me into so much trouble in the past. This was a special place, and if they did not want me to bring Valar here I would not.

I'd not even know this place existed where it not for Amaleen. The field of stones held an almost...sacred feeling to it. It was not a feeling I'd ever really experienced from a place before. And yet I could not deny I felt that way now. The feeling increased as Amaleen and I approached one of the more striking features of the area.

Up ahead where six large and sharply curved crescents carved from dark stone. They looked like nothing so much as a series of oversized talons jutting from the earth itself. They were lined up in two rows and curved towards each other so that the points of each rocky claw nearly touched in the middle, forming a series of arches.

Amaleen passed beneath the archways first. She paused a moment to press her hand to the base of each curved pillar as she passed, and then signaled for me to follow her. I moved through the archway as well, and decided to repeat her gesture. Taking a moment to touch my paw pad to the cool stone of each of the monoliths, I could not help but feel as though I were somewhere heavily spiritualized. As I gazed at the pillars I touched, I noticed they too were inscribed with all manner of sigils. There were even a few I thought I recognized, though they looked slightly...off.

"These almost look like dragon sigils," I said, glancing up at Amaleen.

"I think they are," she called back. "Though I can't say for sure. Those stone talons are far older than you are, I can tell you that. For those few of us who know about this place, it's considered a sort of soul-cleansing ritual to walk through and touch them all. There's an old spiritual energy that still lingers, connected to the stones." She smirked, and tossed her hair a little. "Or so the old man claims." She giggled and shrugged. "I know I always leave this place feeling refreshed and renewed! Though that may be as much from swimming in the river and getting away from everything else for a while as it is touching some old stones."

I grinned at her. "Yes, I imagine it's more that second part than any real spirit-whatever."

"Dragons aren't very spiritual or religious, are they?"

"Some are," I replied. "I am less so. But I do not totally deny such things, either. Though I will admit to being a little awed standing in such a place."

Amaleen smiled at me, and then kept walking. I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt a little in awe of our surroundings. I had not seen many things that were older than I was, and I got the feeling that many of these pillars and carvings were far older than any living dragon. With all the trees cut, and the grounds well tended, the place almost had the feeling of a sparse sort of forest of stone. The distant waterfall filled the air with a calming sort of hissing rush, and tinted the air with the scent of sweet water. Hermit or no hermit, the place held a special sort of elegance I couldn't quite put to words.

I was already thankful that Amaleen brought me here.

Speaking of Amaleen, I found my eyes roaming her as she walked ahead of me. Now that she was wearing breeches rather than a dress, I could not help but notice the lovely rounded shape of her rump pressed against the black material that covered it. I had been with enough human girls in the past to come to appreciate their forms, and I found myself enjoying hers. It made me wonder how she might look without her clothes. My sheath tingled a little at the thought, and I shook my head. Now was not the time to think of such things, especially as it had been a while since I'd been with a female. Let alone a human.

Yes, Alia, that was my thought exactly. It simply wouldn't do for me to meet this master healer with a raging erection. I'm not sure whether Amaleen would have been more amused or horrified. Probably both.

So I tried not to stare at her hips as they swayed in time with her steps. Still, the thought was there and I gulped a few times to try and ease the sudden dryness in my throat. After a few moments I forced myself to think of other things. I started by imagining the hermit she was leading me to as some crinkly, wobbly kneed old geezer. That certainly took my mind right off anything pleasantly sexual.

"Blech," I said out loud, scrunching my muzzle.

"What's the matter?" Amaleen looked back at me over her shoulder.

"Swallowed some bugs," I said, making a show of licking my nose as if trying to get the taste out of my mouth. "Must have walked through a swarm of gnats."

"Perhaps if you were watching where you were going instead of staring at my ass, you wouldn't walk into swarms of things," Amaleen said, giggling.

"Caught me, did you?" I asked, feeling sheepish.

"You dragons have a tendency to tilt your head towards whatever you're looking at." Amaleen giggled a bit. "There was a time I'd not hesitate to give you a kick for that."

"And now?"

"Now I'm hesitating." She came to a stop. "But be on your best behavior, alright? I realize for you it's a scale roughly between terrible and slightly less terrible, but do your best anyway."

"Very well," I muttered. "I shall try and be less terrible. Mind you, I'm not the one teaching hatchlings to throw things at their father!"

"He seemed to know how to do that long before I ever met him," Amaleen replied, stroking my jaw line. "Now. Roar."

"What?" I pulled my head back a little bit.

"Roar. I want him to come meet you, and I think he'd enjoy it if we announced our presence with a roar."

"Very well," I said, stepping back from her. "But if I give him a fright that stops his heart, this is your fault."

Amaleen grinned, nodding her agreement. I waited until she'd clapped her hands over her ears, and then took a deep breath. I let it out with the loudest roar that I could manage, loud enough it even made me pin my ears back against my skull. It was not a roar of fury, but rather a roar of greeting, the way one dragon might call to another across a great distance. Not that a human would know the difference. Though there were no dragons around to answer my roar, the sound did carry greatly, echoing back down the valley. I could almost hear it reverberating against all the strangely marked and shaped stones around the area, as though it were bouncing between them, causing them to ring out like barely audible chimes.

There was something strange about this place, I was certain of it.

In the distance, the door of the log cabin suddenly flew open, and a man charged out brandishing an enormous sword. It was large enough he had to carry it with both hands. He charged out from the forest, running straight at us with his sword held up above himself as though he expected to cleave my head clean off with one blow. As he ran, he gave a wild cry of his own like some addle-minded barbarian.

"Amaleen," I hissed. "Is that him? Why is he charging at me with a sword?"

"Probably because you just scared the hell out of him." Amaleen said, then burst out laughing. "You'd better tell him you come in peace!"

"What?" I snarled when I realized she'd pulled a prank on me. "You dirty little harlot!" I swatted her on the ass, and quite sharply.

"OW!" Amaleen yelped and whirled around to glare at me as she rubbed her rump. "That hurt!"

"So will that sword if he sticks it in my belly," I said, growling. "Which means I will bathe him in fire long before he ever gets close enough to use it on me, so I suggest you tell him I come in peace before I incinerate him."

Amaleen glared at me a moment longer, but then her expression softened. It seemed as though she'd not realized her little prank might have a chance to backfire until I reminded her how I usually handled threats on my life. She turned back towards the man charging towards us. He had quite a distance to run but didn't seem to be flagging in the least, even carrying that heavy sword. Still, I wasn't sure if it was more courageous or foolhardy to bull-rush a dragon.

"Asgir!" Amaleen called out to him. "Asgir! It's me, Amaleen! It's alright, we just came to visit you!"

The man called Asgir slowly came to a stop. He seemed bewildered. Perhaps befuddled was a better term if he was as old as I imagined. He thrust the point of his sword into the earth, and leaned against it. For a moment he just stared at us, and then he began to laugh. It was a loud, boisterous, bellowing sort of laughing, and he kept it up as he walked the rest of the way over to us.

"Amaleen!" He laughed. "I should have known! You always were a little prankster!"

Was she then. That was news to me, but it seemed she'd just pulled one on both of us. Still, I had to admit I was rather impressed. Even a dragon could appreciate the virtue of a good prank. Just as Korvarak must have appreciated it after he'd come home to find Kylaryn and I had been writhing around together in his sleeping furs.

Yes, Val Junior, I do think we should come up with a good prank to pull on Alia. What's that? She's listening in? Ah, she hadn't interrupted me in at least a minute and I nearly forgot she was there. Hello, Alia. Ow! Stop hitting me on the nose!

I looked the so-called hermit over as he approached. I had expected a spindly old man with wild, unkempt hair and an equally wild beard. He did have long dark hair, and quite a beard, but he was anything but spindly. In fact he was surprisingly burly, though perhaps that was due in part to his apparent habit of stone-craft. Both his hair and his bead were braided and bound with rings of silver and gold. He had a single braid for his hair, and two of them for his beard. He wore a heavy woolen shirt in a neutral color that looked just slightly stretched across his burly frame, and simple dark breeches along with shoes that looked worn well past their years. And while he was old enough for his face to hold plenty of creases and wrinkles he was not near as old as I had expected. I suppose I should have listened to Amaleen.

The man had rather striking gray blue eyes, and as he looked me over in turn I could practically feel them raking at my soul. "Don't tell me this is your new apprentice, Amaleen! Can't say I've ever taught a dragon before."

"Certainly not," I said before Amaleen had a chance to reply. "I am no one's apprentice, old man. And what is this talk of teaching me, anyway? One moment you're looking to lop of my head, and the next you're considering teaching me to be a healer?"

The man merely shrugged. "Well, a moment ago I thought you were an enemy. Now I see you're with Amaleen, and that makes you a friend. Assuming she's not your captive, and if she, you'll have to wait right here while I go back and get my sword."

This man was either completely daft, or clever enough to enjoy putting on an air of mild insanity. Judging by the way Amaleen seemed to respect him, I was going to have to assume it was the latter. "I am certainly not here to be trained in anything," I muttered, glancing at Amaleen, then back at the old man, my spines lightly flared. "Though I've no interest in taking your life, either."

"If you two would kindly shut up for a moment," Amaleen said, grinning as she walked towards the bearded man. "Asgir, this is my friend. You can call him The Dread Sky until he decides otherwise. Dread Sky, this is Asgir."

"Ah," Asgir said, interjecting himself before Amaleen was finished with her introductions. She scowled at him but Asgir went on anyway. He stroked one of his beard braids. "So you're that dragon, are you?"

_That_dragon? I was unsure what he meant for a moment. Then I remembered Amaleen came up here with Lenira. I wondered just what this man knew about me. I stared at him a moment, wondering if he had come to hate me the same way Amaleen once did. But I saw no hatred in his eyes, and Amaleen only smiled at me.

"Yes, he's that dragon." Amaleen said, stroking my neck. "He's a very good friend of mine, now."

That simple sentiment warmed me in ways Amaleen probably never knew.

"Then it's nice to meet you, Dragon." He held his hand out a moment, and I stared at it, unsure. He didn't seem to know how to greet a dragon, so I just sniffed at his hand. I noticed it was marked with line upon line of scars both old and new. After a moment he withdrew his hand, and Amaleen just shook her head, snickering.

"It is interesting to meet you," I replied. That much was true, and I wasn't sure I'd call it nice just yet.

"Asgir here is one of the last master healers of our old ways," Amaleen explained. "He helped to train me in techniques not even Lenira knew. There was a time his father traveled all over Aran'alia and beyond, to learn the sort of things that were thought lost to the ages. And now he's passed some of those onto me."

I was starting to zone out, and decided to cut the part about his life story out of the conversation. I waved my paw back the way we'd come. "What's with all the funny rocks?"

Asgir stared at me for a moment before he burst out laughing. Another great bellowing laugh that echoed all around us. "Straight to the point, eh Dragon?" He grinned at Amaleen, his teeth a bit yellowed. "Just like you, Amaleen. No wonder you like him."

Amaleen scowled a little more, fidgeting with her blouse. "Yes, well, don't get to carried away."

"Ah, you two fit each other like-"

That was as far as he got before Amaleen cut him off. For a man who seemed half daft at times, he was certainly insightful. "I actually brought him up here because...well...This place means a lot to me, and..." She turned away, still fiddling with the sleeve of her dress. "It's actually a rather long story."

"Nothing that can't be told over a good meal, then, eh?" The older man chuckled, and put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Tell ya what. I'll get some dinner cooked up, your scaly friend here can go hunt himself something juicy, and then you two can tell me just what's brought you here."

That sounded reasonable enough, though I'd have been just as happy had the old man not been around. Still, it seemed clear enough Amaleen had something specific in mind to show me that would require his presence. Perhaps after that we would get a little time alone to just...enjoy each other's company amongst such beautiful surroundings. We both knew it wouldn't be long before I'd have to return and deal with Kylaryn, and Amaleen would have to deal with whatever issues were affecting her town. If we could take a few days to just relax together, it would make all the difference in the world.

I took his advice, and ascended to the skies. The sun was sinking, and I wanted to catch some dinner before it was dark outside. Luckily that was not a difficult proposition thanks to all the deer and mountain sheep that called this wide valley home. In little time at all I'd snared myself a rather sizable mountain ram, and returned to the strange, stone-strewn field. The old man had fried up some local hares he'd snared that morning, and soon the three of us were eating around a large fire he built in a pit near his home.

As we ate, Amaleen told him our tale. Which was very much like my tale, only from her point of view. She hit only the important parts, that I had protected her town for some time, that Lenira had cared a great deal for me and in the end I had cared for her as well. She also told him that after Lenira died, she was made Chief Healer, and since that time she'd also been asked to join the Council that ran their city.

Then she got to the part about Valar. I could not help wincing as she told him how I'd woken her in the middle of the night with my screams, only for her to find me cradling my bloodied and dying son in my gasp. As she explained the various methods they'd used to treat his wounds some of it was over my head, but it certainly seemed to interest the old man.

"So it did work," he exclaimed at one point. I bristled at that, but kept my mouth shut. Once again I reminded myself the important thing was that my son still lived.

Amaleen continued onwards, eventually reaching the portion of the tale where Kylaryn returned, and how badly that had gone. The old man seemed quite sympathetic, and also in agreement that a few days away from the city were probably in everyone's best interest. Amaleen concluded her story by asking him if he'd been willing to illustrate to me the principal of primal blood. Whatever the hell that meant I had no idea. The old man laughed knowingly, and promised to do so in the morning.

After the meals and stories were done, the old man left us be. I was glad for it. Not that I had anything against him, and I was sure whatever Amaleen wished him to show me would be interesting. But I hadn't come out here to listen to the ramblings of some old man.

Alia, if you don't want to hear me ramble, you shouldn't have asked. Besides, I'm not an old man, I'm an old dragon. There's an important difference. Primarily that dragons are great. Just ask Val Junior.

By the time Amaleen and I were left alone, it was quite dark out. We walked around the area together. Amaleen said she had things to show me, but she'd wait until it was light again. I went to the woods with her and helped her gather fuel for a fire. Then we returned to the place she'd dropped her pack. It was a nice soft expanse of grass, the perfect place to sleep under the stars. I knew now she had no intention of going to the house to sleep, despite the fact the old man claimed to have an extra bedroom.

No, Amaleen had intended all along to curl up alongside me, and spend the night sleeping next to a dragon. To this day I do not know if she, like Lenira, had always been secretly fascinated by dragons. Perhaps she'd simply come to that fascination by virtue of watching my soul unfold before her eyes. She herself was a creature who valued kindness and to some extent it might have been a beautiful thing for her to see me slowly change from a beast of selfish desires into something filled with love and friendship.

I never asked her what it was she saw in my soul that finally drew her to me. To put it to words seemed as though it would have shattered the fragile web that now bound us together. But when she unfurled her bedroll next to the fire, when she lay atop it and pulled my head against her body and cradled me in her warmth, I knew it well enough. In these last weeks we had been together, she had come to care for me far more deeply than she ever dared admit. We had not put voice to it, but each of us knew the truth of it that first night under the stars. We had seen each other at our all, and did not need to speak our feelings to make them true. Amaleen knew, as I did, that she was coming to love me. And I knew, as she did, that I was coming to love her.

We shared no pleasure that night, and very few words. We shared only each other's warmth, and comfort, and for the first time I thought of it as such, we shared each other's love.

As I lay with her in that moonlight night, that was when I realized the truth of it. That after my son, Amaleen was the best part of my life.

---

Chapter Seven

---

Sunshine and the sound of creaking wheels woke us early the next morning. I lifted my head, ears pinned back as I gazed around in search of the source of that irritating noise. Thanks to my sudden awakening and the bright morning sunlight, my vision was still too bleary for me to make out much. I abandoned my search for the moment when a deep yawn overtook me. The yawn lead to a large stretch, and I splayed my front paws out before myself. Amaleen stirred alongside me, and slowly slipped from her dark bedroll. She looked up at me just in time to catch me in the middle of my yawn.

"When you yawn like that, it looks like the top half of your head is about to fall off," she said with a giggle. That didn't stop her from soon sharing my yawn.

"Good morning to you too, Amaleen," I replied, sitting up and curling my tail around her a little.

She gave a cute squeak as I tugged her against myself with my tail. "Watch the spines," she muttered, grasping one of them in her hand.

"Why?" I asked, making a point to turn my head and peer down at my own tail spines. "Are they going to dance?"

"They're going to end up in your head if you act like a brat," Amaleen shot back at me.

"And here I thought sleeping under the stars alongside me meant you'd come to like me," I said, trying to act wounded.

"I have," she said as she stood up, stretching her arms over her head. Her breasts pressed out against the lilac color of her blouse. "But it's not too late for me to change my mind and start hating you again if you keep acting like a scaly ass."

"I think you like me because I am a scaly ass," I said with a playful little purr, nudging my muzzle against her hand.

"Your attitude is not without its own strangely endearing qualities," Amaleen smirked at me, rubbing between my nostrils. "Though I'm baffled as to just how they've endeared themselves to me."

"So am I," I said, not exactly joking. "There was a time I thought you'd always hate me."

"There was a time you deserved it." Amaleen took my head in her hands, and ran her fingers along both sides of my muzzle. She caressed my pebbly scales a moment, and then gently took my frilled ears in her fingers. "That time is long gone. And whatever selfish beast you once were is long gone, as well. I told you before, I know what Lenira saw in you now. I think this is what she hoped you'd become. As you did, in her last days."

I turned my head away, licking my nose, feeling a little sheepish. Amaleen gently guided my face back until my golden eyes met her own blue ones. Light shone deep inside them, she seemed to have as much she wanted to say to me as I wanted to say to her. I was unused to this sort of feeling. Or perhaps it was just that I was unused to it developing so swiftly. Or, maybe I'd just never admitted it to myself before.

"That beast is gone, Valyrym." Amaleen leaned forward and kissed my nose. "And in its place there's something beautiful. Something that I think I've come to-"

"Morning, you two!" I jerked my head up in surprise at the sound of the old man's voice. He must have been drawing nearer and nearer to us while we spoke. I wanted to bite that old bastard in half. How dare he interrupt Amaleen when she was going to tell me she'd come to love me! At least, I think that's what she was going to say. I almost wondered if the old man had interrupted us just then on purpose. Whatever the case, the moment was gone, and Amaleen blushed, giggled, and turned away as the old man kept walking towards us. "How'd you two sleep?"

"Better than the way we were awoken," I growled, narrowing my eyes at him. Amaleen glanced at me with a smirk, and stuck her tongue out. I tried to copy the gesture, but only managed to let my tongue hang from my muzzle a moment.

"Yup, the sun's awful bright up here. I think it's cause we're closer to it, up in the mountains. You could almost grasp it from here!" Again, I wasn't sure if the man was a half-wit or just adept at playing one.

"I have been far closer to the sun upon my wings than you shall ever be Old Man, and I assure you that you'll never be close enough to grasp it." I coiled my tail, feeling increasingly grumpy. I could not help but wonder if Amaleen had brought me out here to tell me how she felt. If that was the case, I hoped she'd work up the nerve to do so again, because I wasn't sure I would be able to do the same on my own. "And what was that creaking sound I heard?"

"That would be my cart," the man laughed.

"Cart?" I hissed, tearing my eyes away from Amaleen to see what cart he was babbling about. "If you're waking me up and interrupting us to show off some squeaking old cart you can't be bothered to grease up, it had damn well better be full of food."

"Nope." The old man grinned at me. Despite the early hour, his beard and hair were both done up in their golden and silver bands already. He'd exchanged his clothes for similar but warmer looking garb, a thick looking long sleeved woolen tunic dyed a pale blue shade, and ashen gray pants. "I've brought better."

"The only thing that sounds better to a male dragon first thing in the morning than a cart full of food, is a cart full of females all ready, willing, and hoisting their tails." I looked past him at the rather shoddy old wooden cart he was pulling behind himself. It looked to have little in it aside from a small boulder I wondered how he'd gotten in there by himself. There were also a few sets of tools and some leather bags likely stuffed with equally boring things. "And I see neither food, nor females eager for a mounting. So what good are you right now?"

I'm not sure who laughed harder at that. The old man, or Amaleen. At this point I hadn't really expected Amaleen to be offended. My words may have reddened her cheeks a little more but I knew by now she was going to laugh at my bawdy jokes. After all, she always laughed when I said something dirty that flew over Valar's head. Yet her laughter came to a sudden stop when the old man joined in my fun.

Asgir waved an oddly scarred hand towards Amaleen. "Seems like you've got a willing female right here. You mean to tell me she spent the night out here with you, and didn't let you do anything?"

Amaleen's laughter turned to a gasp. I half expected her to kick the man in the groin, but it seemed she reserved that indignity for me. Instead she settled for slapping him sharply across the face, though the reddened handprint she left upon his cheek was mostly obscured by the dark hair of his beard. She gave him a glare so smoldering I half expected that very beard to ignite any moment, then she turned back towards me, flashing me a hidden smirk that took me by surprise.

"You always were a bawdy old bastard," she said. I could see laughter dancing in her eyes, and she fought to keep it from her lips.

Asgir just laughed again, rubbing his cheek. "And you were always a bold thing."

That might have been the first time I heard her described that way by anyone else. Before I could stop myself, I said, "I like bold things."

"I'm sure you do," Asgir said with a chuckle, waving at Amaleen. She ignored him and folded her arms beneath her breasts, staring off at the waterfall. The older man continued to speak to her anyway. "The only one you never talked back to was Lenira. Don't think I ever once heard you say a cross thing to that woman. Not even when she was talking about him." Asgir gestured at me, and my heart sank a little. I had rather hoped he didn't know about that. Amaleen shot him a look, and Asgir shrugged. "I could always see the anger boiling in your eyes when she brought him up, but you never once mentioned it to her. Gods, did he ever make you angry."

I hung my head a little bit, idly digging at the grass with one of my front paws. This old man was starting to get on my nerves, and for a moment I was wondering once more why Amaleen had brought me here. I somehow doubted that at this point in our friendship she felt the need to have anyone else belittle me for the way I'd treated Lenira. More likely she hadn't expected the old man to go on a senile rant about the good old days when Lenira loved me and Amaleen hated me.

"He did make you angry, didn't he?" The old man had to keep poking that wound. "Didn't he?"

"Asgir-" Amaleen snapped at him, but he cut her off.

"Why didn't you ever say anything to Lenira about it?" The tone of the man's voice changed ever so slightly. I would not have picked up on it before Valaranyx hatched, and even now I only just caught it. Yet there was a familiar tone in there, the same sort of tone I might use when trying to get Valaranyx to learn from his own mistakes by making him think about what he'd done.

"Because he made her happy," Amaleen muttered. "For all the pain he put her through there was nothing that made her happier than being around him. I didn't want to take that away from her."

"And now..." The old man spread his hands apart, smiling. "Now he makes you happy."

Amaleen was silent for a moment, and so was I. Sneaky old bastard. At least now I knew his daftness was only a ploy. A clever one, to. After a moment, Amaleen swallowed hard, and rested her hand upon my nose. "Yes. He does."

That lifted my heart higher than my wings could ever carry it.

"Excellent!" The man went back to his cart as though totally obvious to the fact that he'd just goaded Amaleen into admitting something so intensely personal. Though I had seen that happiness growing during each afternoon lesson we shared, she had never given words to it. As the old man went on, I wondered if Amaleen had even admitted that growing joy to herself before this moment. "Then you, at last, understand how Lenira felt! Why she put up with it."

"I...suppose I do," Amaleen said softly, rubbing her hand against my muzzle. I licked her fingers a little, and let my eyes meet hers. We shared a smile.

Asgir grunted as he grasped the cart poles and began to pull it towards us again. The wheels all squeaked, and the framework creaked a little. I thought that boulder was going fall through the bottom of it any moment. "I shall take that to mean he has atoned for his past misdeeds, and redeemed himself in your eyes."

"More than he knows," Amaleen said, though her voice was nearly lost against my scales as she kissed my neck a little.

I lifted my paw, and gently rubbed her back. She wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me for a few long moments. It must have been hard on her to know she had come to love me. After hating me for so many years in which she saw me as little more than a monster, she now saw that monster's heart bared and beating. She embraced it. I had changed over the years. Much as it hurt my pride to admit it, Amaleen had been right when I brought Valar to meet her the first time. I'd denied it then, but now the truth was clear as the air all around me.

I had changed, and Amaleen was the one who changed me. For all the love I had for Valar, there was only so much one dragon could change another. Were it not for Amaleen, her fury and her anger and yet her willingness to accept me and save my son just the same, I would have still seen humans as lesser things. Smaller, less important creatures. Playthings, or at best a friend to chat with. Lenira may have started it, but Amaleen was the real catalyst.

Amaleen was the one who'd made me a better person.

Asgir brought the cart to us, and came to a stop. This time, he remained silent while we embraced, and even turned his back, busying himself by taking the tools from his cart. We shared warmth for moments that were long but not near long enough, and Amaleen brushed her lips against my scales here and there. We finally parted and she kissed my nose once more.

When there was no longer a moment to ruin a second time, Asgir turned back towards us. He fixed his gaze on Amaleen and smiled at her. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Told me what?" Amaleen asked, though I could tell from the tone of her voice that she knew exactly what he was talking about. She just didn't want to admit it.

"That all things would balance out." Asgir set a few heavy looking leather pouches down on the ground, then reached for his stoneworkers tools, contained in a sort of padded leather belt. "That the best thing you could do for yourself was to forgive him. That life is inevitably symmetrical, and sooner or later, your years of hatred would be balanced by something far better. But, first you had to let that hatred go. And did you listen to me?"

"...No," Amaleen sounded like a chastised child as she wrung her hands together.

"I thought not," Asgir chuckled. "But the idea took root, it seems." He tapped her sharply on the forehead. "It settled inside your brain until the time was right. Until the dragon himself had balanced his selfishness with selflessness. You saw only the worst parts of him while Lenira saw only the best. Sooner or later, it would balance out." He smiled at her, shaking his head, his beard braids swaying. "I did tell you."

"Yes," Amaleen murmured. "You did."

"And you see? Things have balanced out. It's the way of the world. The way life works! It's always trying to balance things out." He clucked his tongue, sounding like a mother duck calling her ducklings. That made me hungry. "There will always be balance, and symmetry, even if we refuse to see it. Even if it takes years."

"What about a hatchling who never gets to fly?" I asked, unable to help a moment of bitterness. "There's no symmetry there. There's nothing to balance that."

"There is," Asgir insisted, though he kept his tone soft, and respectful towards my son's injuries. "As bad as things get, something will always come along to balance it out." Asgir left his tools behind a moment to place his hand on my shoulder. As his gesture was meant to comfort, I decided to tolerate it. "There is symmetry in everything, Dragon. In sorrow and joy, in hatred and love, in life and death. Even a prisoner will inevitably find freedom."

That only darkened my mood. I glared at him, flicking my tail tip. "Unless he should die in his prison."

Asgir simply smiled at me. "Ah. But even in death, there is freedom to be found." He patted my shoulder, then returned back to selecting his tools. "Through death, he is inevitably freed from the bindings of his prison, and the shackles of the earth. Imprisonment balanced with final freedom."

"But that's like saying death merely balances life." I snapped my jaws. I didn't like being talked in circles.

Asgir gave me a coy grin. "Doesn't it?"

I sighed to myself, coiling my tail around my paws. "You have a point, I suppose, even if I do not completely agree." I cocked my head as I peered at him. "You're not half as daft as you look."

"Thank you," Asgir said, still grinning.

A smirk pulled at the corners of my muzzle. "But you look _twice_as daft as you act."

"Thank you," he said again, laughing. I wasn't sure if he mistook my words for a compliment or if he was just playing his role.

I glanced down at Amaleen. "Has he always had two beards?"

"As long as I've known him."

"It looks foolish."

"Shush, Val, he'll hear you," Amaleen said, giggling under her breath.

"My ears haven't gone yet, you know," the man replied, giving Amaleen a wry grin.

"No?" I remarked, grinning at him. "Your appearance surely has."

"Must be the sense of fashion that goes first," Amaleen said, finally giving into the laughter she'd been trying to hide for a few moments.

"Yes, yes, laugh it up you two." Asgir waved his hand at me. "Be useful, Dragon. Take this boulder out of this cart for me."

"How did you get it in there in the first place?"

Asgir shrugged. "I can't recall. Just take it out, will you? Set it anywhere?"

"How about on your head?" I muttered, but when Amaleen swatted me, I decided I may as well help out. I walked to the cart, and settled onto my haunches next to it. I reached in, and with a grunt, plucked the gray and black boulder from inside the cart, and set it down nearby. I noticed he'd already carved quite a few lines into it. Some of them looked to run very deep. "Is this acceptable?"

"That's just fine, yes," Asgir said, grasping the poles of his cart, and wheeling it a little ways off. "Now, if you want, you can go and hunt yourself some breakfast. I need a little more time to finish preparing this, and then I'll be ready to show you."

"I have already seen your collection of boulders," I snorted. "I am not impressed. If I were to go up into the mountains I am sure that I could cause a few more of them to roll down here, if you'd like. Though I'd advise getting out of the way first. Perhaps you could leave your beard in the way, and let the boulder do away with it for you."

Amaleen slapped me on the nose. I yelped and pulled my head back, hissing at her. "Stop hitting me, Amaleen."

"Then stop being a brat."

Yes, Alia, I'm aware of the similarities. It seems all woman of Aran'alian descent are quick to smack a dragon on the nose. What? They only smack me? Hmmph! That's not what Val Junior says behind your back. You should be nicer to him, you know.

I leapt into the sky, and left Amaleen and her former instructor behind. I was starting to see why she still respected the old man. Somehow the old bastard had talked circles around her till she blurted out the fact I made her happy the same way I'd once made Lenira happy. I rather doubt she'd expected that to happen when she decided to bring me out here. Perhaps admitting it out loud would make it easier for Amaleen to accept and understand her feelings. That seemed to be Asgir's intention.

I spent a little while simply flying. The simple pleasure of flight often helped me collect my thoughts. When things seemed muddled in my head I could clear my mind if I spent enough time in the skies. As I flew aimless patterns in the air, I thought about Amaleen, and what I'd come to realize about her. It was a strange thing to realize that no one had ever understood me quite the way she did.

Kylaryn was special to me in her own way, and I cared a great deal about her. But she did not truly understand me, and I certainly did not understand her. Even in our years together raising Valaranyx, that blue scaled beauty was so often an enigma. I had come to accept that, as I had come to accept that perhaps that was the way she wanted it. In a similar way, she hardly understood me completely either. I knew she was perplexed by my feelings towards the humans. She'd never understood my friendship with Lenira, or why I was so saddened by her death. She certainly wouldn't understand what had blossomed between Amaleen and I.

Despite Lenira's love, even she never completely understood me. The tragedy of our relationship helped underscore that fact. If she'd ever really understood my draconic mindset, she would have known I had not loved her at the time. She simply did not understand the way time worked for me, or how difficult it would be for me to realize her feelings. Perhaps if I'd been able to see her at her all earlier, things would have been different.

But Amaleen...Amaleen understood me. To this day, locked in my cell, I still do not know how Amaleen came to understand me so completely. Like a knife, she had cut through the layers that wrapped my heart in solitude and anger and selfishness, and she had laid bare the goodness in me. She understood my flaws and my pain. She understood what hurt me and what I held dear. She knew me for the monster I could be and for the poetry I held in my heart. And most of all, she accepted each equally.

As I flew it all became clear. The thoughts I'd had the night before were not fleeting. The feelings I'd become increasingly aware of were only getting stronger. The word love had crossed my mind fairly often, in a fleeting sense. But as I flew, I confirmed it to myself. For the first time in my life, I had truly come to love someone. Not a simple possibility, and not after they were gone. But completely and utterly, while I could still clutch them in my embrace.

I loved Amaleen.

I tilted my head back and roared to the sky. The skies never truly cared whether I felt joy or sorrow, they merely watched the world pass by. The sky existed in an endless state, even a dragon would live and die in what was only a blink to the endless pattern of blue and black. But my roar echoed. It carried along the valley, and for once, the skies almost seemed to share my joy.

Down below, Amaleen waved at me.

When I had feasted upon elk that tasted sweeter than ever, I landed once more amongst the many strange stone forms that marked the land. I trotted over to Amaleen, butted my head against her like an overly affectionate cat, and settled upon my haunches at her side. I unfurled a single wing and wrapped it around her, pulling her up against my body. She laughed and did not struggle. Instead she pressed herself against my side, snuggling into my scales.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast?" She asked, rubbing my front leg.

"Immensely," I purred, smiling down at her.

Amaleen smiled back at me and stroked my jaw. "I'm glad."

"So am I, Amaleen." I pressed my nose to her hand, nuzzling her.

"You two sure make a big deal out of breakfast," The old man said with a laugh. This time, I knew the true subtext of our conversation had not escaped him. He knew it was not really the breakfast we were talking about. "I'm ready, by the way."

Amaleen squeezed her way out from under my wing, smiling. "Come over here, Valyrym. I want you to see this."

Amaleen waited for me to rise, and then she placed her hand upon my neck. Together we walked over to where the older man had been chiseling at the dark-hued boulder he'd brought with him. He'd added a few more lines, and deepened some of the existing lines. The tiny, chiseled valleys almost seemed to form a familiar shape and yet I could not quite place it. As I neared it, he glanced up and told us we were close enough.

Confused, I settled back down upon my haunches again. Amaleen gave me a sly grin. She clearly knew something I did not, and though I was slightly irritated with all the secrecy, I was increasingly curious to see just what the old man was actually going to do with the stupid rock. I half expected him to add one more little chisel mark, and suddenly an entire image would become clear. As it turned out, he had something far more impressive in mind.

As Amaleen stroked my scales, Asgir upended one of the heavy leather pouches he'd brought with him. A whole series of multi-hued gems rolled out. Most of them were rough-hewn and dull. A few were sharply cut like jewelry, and sunlight sparkled off their facets. A few more were even completely spherical and polished like the marbles I'd seen children playing with in Sigil Stones. They held all manner of hue, some were green, some red, blue, or purple. A few were even clear but sparkled with a golden tint. I wasn't sure if they were actual sapphires and emeralds and so on but they certainly resembled them.

"Are those what I think they are?" I asked, glancing between the two humans.

"Better," Asgir said simply. "I call these ghost stones." Asgir picked up a large green spherical one, and held it up towards the sun. When the sunlight hit the stone, I could have sworn I saw what looked like mist floating around inside it. Asgir shook it, and the silvery mist swirled deep within the stone. It saw where it got the name as it certainly did look like some kind of spirit trapped deep inside.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, glancing at Amaleen. "Is that what your apprentice broke and put in that concoction?"

"It is," Amaleen answered. "Though this one's better quality."

"So..." No one had answered what seemed like the most obvious question yet. "What is it exactly, and why are you making such a big deal about showing it to me?"

"It is, for lack of a better term," Asgir said, waving the green gem around in a flourishing gesture. "Magic."

"Liar," I muttered.

"Have you not heard what gives the rain here its silver color?" Asgir shook the stone again, watching the silver mist tumble about inside.

I tossed my horned head. "I have heard the tales told to children."

"There's more accuracy in those tales than you think," Asgir said. He offered me the stone. "Look at it in the light."

I took the green gem from him and held it up towards the sun. I squinted, peering through it. The mist deep in the center seemed to hold a silvered hue that shone all the more brightly when the sunlight struck it. Were it not for the emerald all around it, I could not help but think it would have looked the same color as the rains that fell all across Aran'alia.

"I see the silver in it, but I do not know what that has to do with the rain. Or magic." I snorted.

"The rain in Aran'alia is silver because it is still tinted with ancient magic, all but lost to the world's knowledge." Asgir waved behind himself. "That magic is concentrated all the more heavily in these mountains, in the very heart of old Aran'alia. The further from the heartland of Aran'alia you go, the less silver you will see in the rain. But travel even deeper into our mountains, and the snow itself falls like mercury. Search hard enough, dig deeply enough, and you'll find stones like this."

Asgir held one of the stones out towards Amaleen. She made a show of looking at her hands first, and then he tossed it to her. "These stones are what remains of the magic that was once thick in our land. How it comes to coat the rain, how it came to find itself crystallized inside gems, I have no idea." Amaleen tossed the stone back to Asgir, and he waved it at me as he continued. "My theory is that it's simply always been there. That magic has always been as much a natural element in this part of the world as the stone and earth itself. It's only a theory, of course, you dragons would likely know better."

"Why do you say that?" I pulled my head back a little bit.

"Because they're the ones who carved the bones of the earth," Asgir pointed towards the six arches. Now that he called them bones, they looked like an immense black rib cage. "Dragons were here before we were. I've been told there was a time when dragons even taught our ancestors some of what they knew. I don't see any reason to doubt it. After all there's a reason there are dragon sigils carved in those stones." Asgir gestured to skeletal stones marking the land. "Just as there's a reason why Aran'alia has always been far more accepting of the population of dragons than any other place I can think of in the world."

Perhaps the old man had a point. Still, he hadn't gone through all this just to show me a few funny looking rocks. I tossed the gem back to him. "Alright then. Clearly you intend to prove something to me about that stone. So go on then. Prove it."

"Happy to," Asgir said, rising to his feet after he smoothly caught the emerald sphere.

He walked to the boulder, and paced around it a few times, examining all the lines he'd carved into it. He ran his fingers over a few of them. Asgir sat the gem down nearby, and drew a sharp looking knife from his tool belt. Without hesitating, he ran the blade swiftly along his palm, deep enough to draw more than a little blood. He winced but did not otherwise react. At least now I knew why his hands were so scarred. Some kind of masochist, it seemed.

Asgir pressed his hand to the boulder. His blood began to run down several of the lines he'd carved. He moved his hand periodically, each time pressing it to a new set of lines to ensure that blood coated them all. Soon, every line and mark he'd carved in the stone gleamed bright, wet and red in the sun. The glistening crimson lines held their own sort of morbid beauty, and I kept my mouth shut out of fascination alone.

When he seemed satisfied that the stone had enough blood coating each and every line, he picked up the gem again with his bloodied hand. No sooner had his blood touched it then the mist inside began to swirl and boil, like a storm growing angry deep inside the jewel itself. Soon, tiny cracks began to form along it's surface. Asgir carefully inserted the jewel into a circular hole he'd cut near the bottom of the stone that intersected quite a few of the chiseled lines. Then he stepped back, and covered his ears with his hands.

By the time I realized Amaleen was doing the same, it was a moment too late. The emerald sphere exploded with an ear-splitting crack and a brilliant flash of blinding, silver light that burned itself into my vision. More flashes of silver light ran along all the carved lines he'd chiseled into the stone, following the trails of blood Some of them flashed across the surface, the silver light slicing through the stone in molten trails. Each comet tail of silver light brought with it a harsh hissing sound and tinted the air with an odd, acrid smell.

Where the lines ran deeper into the boulder, more bursts of shining mercury shot through the stone, and erupted out the back in a shower of melting stone chips that lit the grass on fire where they landed. In their wake the rock lay coated with a web of molten red lines. An entire section of rock fell away where the lines had been carefully cut to ensure the magic would slice right through it.

Before I could really gather what had just happened, the old man quickly came forward again, and deftly began to pull apart the boulder. His lines had served two purposes it seemed, to scar shapes into some parts of the rock, and guide the silver heat all the way through it in others. He pulled away entire sections that had been burned clean through before the molten stone could cool and harden again, ever careful not to touch any of the glowing red areas.

When he'd pulled aside all the bisected sections of rock, I saw that all the lines he'd made had not been simply to ensure that the magic demonstration would cut the boulder apart. Rather, they were each placed with exacting precision to ensure that when the strange silvery fire had burned through the stone, and all the severed pieces were removed, all that remained would be a very clear, discernable sculpture.

Asgir had used magic to carve a dragon's head from the boulder.

It was all there. The muzzle, the eyes, the horns, the spiky frills. Granted, it was a rather blocky interpretation of a dragon, but given that he'd only had one night and one morning to carve his guide lines into the stone, the effect was remarkable. Though, it was not nearly as remarkable as the act itself. Using what seemed like little more than blood and a single gem, Asgir had carved in moments what should have taken him months, if not years.

"How the hell did you do that?" I asked, incredulous, and still staring.

"Magic," was his maddeningly vague reply. Then he began to walk around, stomping down on several of the numerous grass fires he'd inadvertently started. "Give me a little hand, would you? I seem to have set my field on fire."

I stared at him a moment, bemused. Every time it seemed like his addle-minded routine was just a ruse, he did something else that left me less convinced. Like lighting a field on fire by mistake, and then chasing around the flames to try and stomp them out. Before long. Amaleen had joined in and was dashing around just as wildly. Together they looked like a couple of scared children who'd been playing with fire and were now aimlessly running around trying to squelch the evidence.

"Oh, move aside," I finally snarled, irritated.

Once the two of them were out of the way, I turned my body sideways. The flames flickered along the grass that spread amongst the many oddly shaped works of stone. I opened my right wing, lifted it as high up over my body as I could, and then swept it downwards sharply. An immense gust of wind whipped across the grass, fanning some of the flames but blowing others out immediately. I beat my wing a few more times just as hard, and soon there was nothing but blackened, smoldering grass left to illustration the potential for collateral damage of the old man's so-called magic.

"And that," I said, grinning as I folded my wing back to my body. "Is how you put out a fire. Or several of them."

"That was pretty good, actually," Asgir said, stroking one of his beard braids.

"I do have plenty of experience lighting things on fire, after all." I grinned at Amaleen who only rolled her eyes at me. "Not as much experience putting those fires back out, but I do know how it's done."

"I'm surprised to hear you have any experience putting your own fires back out," Amaleen said, nudging her boot into some of the blackened ash.

"Let's just say that when Valar is old enough to start practicing with his own fire," I said, shaking my head and laughing to myself. "That I hope he does not try to do so inside our home. Unlike me."

"Valyrym!" Amaleen said, using my name in front of the old man, perhaps without realizing it. "Did you burn down your own home?"

"Not all of it," I muttered. "Just a few of my parents possessions...and their bed."

"You burned your parents bed down?" Amaleen gasped, incredulous for a moment before she burst out laughing.

"Not on purpose," I protested, then laughed as well. "It's not as though they were in it at the time. They were out hunting and I was playing a game, chasing imaginary foes around our home. I cornered them in my parents sleeping chamber, and in my youthful exuberance, I flamed my enemies! I'd only just begun to be able to make fire, and, I wasn't exactly in full control of it. As luck would have it, my enemies were located right atop my parents sleeping furs. Which I soon learned were quite flammable."

Amaleen started laughing even harder, and soon Asgir was laughing too. Yes, much like you're laughing right now, Alia. What? No! Val Junior had damn well not burn down my bed. Unlike my parents, I would be very hard pressed to obtain suitable replacements. I shall toss him in the tub and watch him sink to the bottom if he even considers it.

"So what did you do?" Amaleen asked when she caught her breath.

"Panicked, ran away. Caught my breath, and eventually returned. Found out that if I beat my wing hard enough I could use the rushing air to put out the flames." I grinned wickedly. "Then when mother and father came home, I ran right to them and said, Nary tried to burn your bed down!"

"You blamed it on your sister?" Amaleen started laughing all over again. "That's horrible!"

"Well, I was mad at her. She'd kicked me in the balls that morning when we wrestled." I scoffed a little, tossing my head. "Wicked little egg-cracker."

"You deserved it if you're blaming your own destruction on your poor sister."

"No," I said, shaking my head with a grin. "She kicked me before I blamed her." I paused, and then sheepishly added, "I deserved it for shoving her face in the mud the night before."

Amaleen giggled and began to rub my nose. As I nuzzled her hand, she smiled at me. "You know, every time you talk about her I'm struck by just how much you two sound exactly like human siblings. Loving yet feuding."

"I think Nary would like you, actually. I should imagine you will meet her eventually." I gave Amaleen's hand a little lick, smiling. "One way or another."

"I think I'd like her to," Amaleen flashed me a wicked grin. "And I'm going to tell her that you already gave me her real name."

I tightened up my hind legs instinctively. Nary would not be happy about that. I flared my spines, glaring at Amaleen. "I shall toss you down a well if you do."

"You'd have to catch me first," Amaleen replied. "And I plan on hiding behind your sister."

I chuckled at that, and turned my attention back towards the dragon's head carved from stone. Now that the molten red lines were cooling, the shape of the carving was more clearly defined. While Amaleen and I were speaking, Asgir had been inspecting his work. I gestured at the slowly cooling stone with my paw. "Now. How did you do that? And don't give me some vague, pseudo-spiritual gibberish, either. Tell me how that happened."

Asgir walked around the stone dragon's head, touching it here and there without answering. He soon fetched a series of chisels and hammers, and knelt down alongside the sculpture. Staring up at me a moment, he selected a chisel and began to work a few small lines into the stone. Just when I thought he had chosen to ignore me, he responded. "I don't know exactly how it works. When I told you it was magic, I didn't mean it to be vague, pseudo-spiritual mumbo-jumbo."

"I said gibberish, Old Man," I waved my paw in a circle in the air. "But do go on." Then I snorted. "And do get to the point this time."

"I should have thought you dragons would have more patience," he said, chiseling a few more lines. Little stone chips fell to the earth around him.

"I only have patience for those I care about," I responded, a little more glumly than I'd intended. I lashed my tail at the earth, and my spines caught and hurled chunks of sod into the air. "Beyond that my life has taught me if I do not live in the moment I am likely to miss it. So I do not like waiting for people who seem to be quite intentionally dancing around the answers to my question."

Asgir just chuckled to himself. "You should always try to have patience, dragon. You'd be surprised how often the world rewards the patient. Turn your head to the left a little, please."

With a sigh, I did as he asked. He stared at my face a little while longer, and then chiseled a few gently more lines into the stone. "You require a dragon reference, do you?"

"I do, but you're acting grumpy. I'd rather the details come out looking happy. Luckily for you, I'm patient. You can't work stone with a lack of patience, you see. One misstep and you'll have ruined the entire thing."

"Luckily for me, I don't work stone."

"You should try it sometime. You'd be amazed by how serene and relaxing it can be." He chiseled a few more lines, though I couldn't tell what he was taking from my face. Far as I could tell he was just carving random tiny lines in the stone. Then he sat back to study his work so far.

I snorted at him, flicking my tail again. "And you should try not being an irritatingly empty-headed - Are those my scales?"

I'd suddenly realized all the little lines he was putting in seemingly at random on the dragon's head were beginning to interconnect. When one line met another, and another, and the little arches began to stack and intersect, it was clear he was carving scales into the dragon's head. It took dozens of little lines just to make a small scale pattern, and it looked as though it would take him all day to cover the dragon's muzzle. More intriguingly, he was carving my scale pattern. A dragon's facial scales were all unique, and I recognized the patterning around my own nose.

"How did you do that?" I lowered my head and sniffed at the stone as though the scent of the rock would reveal its secrets.

The old man set his chisel down, and looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "The magic, or the scales?"

"Don't be an ass."

The man lifted one of his scarred hands, and brushed his fingers over the scales he'd been carving. "Every line is important. I studied the lines on your face, and then I did what I could to duplicate them. Stonework requires immense patience, and if I want this to look like you, I have to ensure that every stroke of the chisel is perfect. As you can see, copying your scaling requires every line to be in a precise location. If I make a mistake in the stone, it lasts forever. I may not live as long as you, Dragon, but that does not mean I rush through my life, demanding everything as swiftly as possible. On the contrary, I savor what I can, and have the patience to know that while things may not come immediately, that does not mean they are not worth waiting for."

Somewhere in his words, there was an important lesson, I was sure. But at the time, I lacked the patience to learn it. Hence the reason he was trying to teach me such patience in the first place I suppose. Perhaps like Amaleen, I simply needed time for his words and ideas to really take root in my brain. If nothing else, I was fascinated with his stone work. Even with my long life I simply could not imagine having the patience it would take to carve something from stone, line by line. Nor could I fathom how in his own relatively short life he could spare such time and be so patient. Did he not hear the years ticking by?

I think he simply chose to ignore them. A wise man, in his way. He had somehow found a way to ignore the marching of the years without also ignoring other people the way I had once done.

"Have you carved all of this?" I swept my wing open, gesturing with it towards the vastness of the field and all the many stone shapes that marked it.

"Not in the least," the old man said, chuckling. He picked up his chisel again, and went back to work. "I've carved a good portion of what is here, both with chisel and with ghost stones. But much more of it was carved by my father. He helped to teach Lenira, and a few others who used to live up here. Still more was carved out by the other ancestors to the People of the Silver Rain. Far as I know, some of it was even carved by dragons."

I waited for him to reach another lull in his scale-work, and then I plucked up one of the remaining ghost gems from the ground. The old man tensed as though he was afraid it was going to explode and blow off my paw. That made me tense too, and I turned my attention down to it. Still, the floating mist trapped within the pale blue stone looked placid.

"You're not bleeding are you?" Asgir asked.

"I should hope not," I muttered. "Is blood all it takes to activate it?"

"Not exactly," Asgir said with a sigh. He lay his tools down and walked over to me. "It takes a certain kind of blood."

"Silver Rain, right?" Amaleen asked, crossing her arms and scowling.

"Mostly," the old man nodded. "Not bleeding, are you Amaleen?"

Amaleen chuckled and shook her head. The old man tossed her a gem, using the hand he hadn't sliced open earlier just in case. "Good. I think yours would do it, but I'm not sure."

Amaleen caught the jewel, hers a ruby, and held it to the sun. She smiled at what she saw. The sunlight through the crimson stone made her face glow with a stunning radiance. I watched her a little while, and when she lowered the gem I realized that not only was I staring at her, but both Amaleen and Asgir had caught me doing so. I cleared my throat with a growl, shuffled on my paws, and looked away.

"Why aren't you sure Amaleen's blood would cause the same reaction?" I asked, trying to deflect attention away from myself.

"Because she's not full-blooded Silver Rain," Asgir answered.

"You mean Aran'alians, right?" I cocked my head. "Isn't that some archaic name for yourself? From before you really had towns and cities like you do today?"

The older man nodded, and began to put the rest of the jewels back into the leather pouch. He was careful not to jostle any of them to much, or get any dried blood upon them. "Essentially, yes. It's a name for the people who first settled this land, and their descendants. People who came here more recently from other lands might be Aran'alians now, but I wouldn't exactly consider them Silver Rains. I tend to think of the Silver Rain people being just the bloodline of the original settlers here. Amaleen has some foreign blood in her." Asgir glanced at Amaleen. "No offense my dear."

"None taken, Old man," Amaleen smirked at him, twining a slightly curly bit of hair around her finger. "Not as though I try to hide it."

"So then," I asked, still confused. "Why does it only work for those people?"

"It's their blood," the old man explained. "We think it's the rain. It causes their blood to react with the Primal inside the ghost stones."

"Primal?" I hissed and pressed a paw between my horns, groaning. This maddening old man was giving me a headache. "Amaleen, has he already taught you all this?"

Amaleen nodded. "Most of it, yes."

"Then can you teach it to me in a more straight forward manner? All this talk of blood and rain is giving me a headache."

Amaleen gave Asgir a sympathetic look that made me consider perhaps he wasn't trying to be obtuse on purpose. It was just in his nature. That might have made a good technique for teaching young pupils as it would force them to think carefully about what he was saying. But for an adult dragon, it was infuriating. Asgir shrugged and gestured at us, grinning.

"You two go off and have fun." He put the gems back in the cart, and settled down next to his latest sculpture again. "I'll be here if you need me."

"That is not the sort of fun we plan to have," Amaleen said, glaring at him. "Dirty old man. We'll be talking and I'll be teaching him things and..."

"Mhm," was Asgir's only reply.

I turned away from him, and coiled my tail around Amaleen. I started to walk with her in its grasp, and she gave a little yelp of surprise. "Watch it with those spines!"

"Come along, Amaleen," I said, ignoring her protest. "This old man makes my head hurt. I need someone to tell me what the hell I just saw without making me more confused than I already am." That, and I wanted to spend some time alone with her.

"Alright, Val," she giggled, patting my tail. "I'd be happy to try and explain it to you. Though, I'd caution you I hardly understand it completely myself. And there's something else I want to give to you, too."

"Give to me?" I blinked, glancing back at her over my folded wings. "Like what?"

"Let me get my pack, and I'll show you a bit later."

"I shall take you to your pack, but I have no intention of letting you go until we reach our destination."

"And where might that be?" Amaleen walked along behind me, folding her arms even as I kept my tail coiled lightly around her belly. She could have slipped free if she really wished, but she chose not to.

"You tell me. Preferably as far from this babbling old man as possible without having to take to my wings."

Amaleen mused over it a moment, lightly stroking my tail. "The waterfall, then. We can walk along the river a little. And there's a little beach there, beyond the pond at the bottom. It should be in the sun this time of day, and there's a bit of spring there too. Keeps the water much warmer than you'd expect. It's a beautiful place. It's...one of the places I wanted to share...to...show you."

I smiled back at her, preferring her initial choice of words. "I would be honored to share this waterfall with you. You said the water was warm, are you planning to go for a swim?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." I guided Amaleen to where she'd left her pack so that she could pick it up. I started on again once she was carrying her belongs. She patted my tail again. "Do you enjoy swimming, Val?"

"I do, but I've not done so in ages. I've taken Valar a few times, but I have to stay at his side in the shallows, so I don't get any real swimming done."

"Then we'll definitely have to go for a swim." Amaleen smiled at me from the confines of my tail.

I couldn't help myself. A smirk spread over my muzzle. "Does that mean I'll get to see you naked?"

Amaleen gave a gasp, but it sounded as much for show as genuine embarrassment. "You naughty thing!"

"I was only curious."

"Do you want to see me naked?" Amaleen kept her voice as even as possible.

I hesitated to answer that honestly, and finally did so with a question of my own. "Am I going to be in trouble if I say yes?"

"Only a little bit," Amaleen said, giggling.

"Then...yes. I do want to see you naked." I purred to myself.

"I suppose it's only fair," Amaleen said, leading me right into her trap.

"How is that only fair?"

"Because all I can see from back here is your scaly ass and your damn balls!" She burst out laughing to herself.

Once more, I couldn't help myself. I purred back to her, lifting my tail a little higher at its base. "Lucky you, then."

We made our way across the field the old man had called the Bones of the Earth. We passed amongst many stone carvings and rough hewn boulders, some of which were taller than I was and far too heavy for even a dragon to lift. Many of them were covered with inscriptions both old and new. I paused here and there to inspect a few of them, but only with a cursory glance. After all I had Amaleen prisoner in my tail and I didn't want to give her a chance to wriggle her way free. Not that she seemed at all inclined to do so.

We made our way towards the pool at the head of the river that flowed beneath the towering waterfall. Closer to the water, a thick line of trees, vines and underbrush provided privacy for anyone bathing in the waters. At least in the summer they did, I imagine in the winter when most of the trees were bare and the underbrush dead, the old man would have quite a few of anyone stripping off their clothes to slip into the river. I lashed out here and there with unsheathed claws against brush and bramble to clear a path for Amaleen as we trod through the narrow strip of forest lining the river bank.

As we emerged from the forest at the base of the falls, the size of the waterfall itself became clear. It towered before us, and were I to stand upon my hind legs and stretch, it would still be quite a few nose-to-tail lengths taller than I. The water fell far enough that the stream pouring over the rocky ledges at the very top of it was reduced to an ever-falling torrent of ceaseless rain by the time it reached its destination. Though the sun didn't strike the water directly as it had when I'd first laid eyes upon it, it was still beautiful sight. The cascading waters shimmered and each droplet seemed to have it's own chance to shine for only a moment, adding to the wavering rainbow prism that danced in the spray.

The edges of the rugged cliffs that formed the backdrop to the waterfall were softened by layers of deep emerald green moss, flecked with tiny red tendrils and the occasional blue flower hanging from a loop of vine. Wet boulders marked the edges of the deep blue pool, and in a few places rounded stone caps jutted up above the water. Though I did not see the beach Amaleen spoke of, the shore all around the water was covered in more soft, silken moss.

"It's beautiful!" I called out to Amaleen, lifting my voice to carry it above the sound of the crashing waters. A layer of mist soon dampened my nose, causing my scales to glisten. The smell of water hung heavier in the air than it did even after a rainstorm.

"Yes, it is!" Amaleen called back, patting my tail. "Go down stream a little further, away from all the spray."

"Aren't we swimming anyway?"

"Soon! I have something for you, and I don't want it to get wet."

Curious, I made my way downstream away from the waterfall until the spray was no longer wrapping us in its chilly embrace. Though the water down below might be warmed by a hidden spring, that did little to heat the spray drifting from around the falls. As we walked along the river, I did see the small, sandy beach Amaleen mentioned. For now we passed it up, as it was still lightly affected by the drifting clouds of mist. After we walked a little further I picked a dry, sunny spot where the ground was laden with soft ferns and velvet moss, and the water currents lapped only lazily at the shore. Finally, I released Amaleen from my tail's spiny grasp.

Once free, she walked up right up behind me and patted me lightly upon my eggs, grinning to herself. "Thanks for the show, boys."

"Enjoyed that did you?"

"Don't get your hopes up, dragon." Amaleen smirked, and found a patch of moss to settle herself down upon. I sat down against my haunches in front of her, and she opened up her pack and began to dig through it. "It's in here somewhere."

Amaleen pulled out some extra clothes, a warmer jacket, a pair of shoes, and set them all aside. I wondered just how much she'd crammed in there. My tail tip flicked and swished back and forth, my spines uprooting a few ferns and tearing little ruts through the moss. Amaleen shot me a look, and I tried to still my tail. Finally, she gave a little gleeful shout, and pulled out a book.

"Here it is!"

"A book?" I was a little surprised.

"Yes, I..." She faltered a little. "It's...well, here." She offered it to me.

I took the book from her hands, and held it carefully in my paws. Whatever it was, it was clearly important to her. It looked brand new, as though she'd purchased it just for me. The thought was touching without even knowing the contents of the book. The cover and spine that bound it together were a deep burgundy color, like rich red wine. Images of roses in intricate detail were embossed upon it. Down the spine, in brilliant golden letting were the words, Of Poetry.

"It is a book of poems?" I asked. I smiled to myself, proud to be able to read the title. Though I hadn't exactly warmed to Amaleen's idea that I write poetry, I knew it was something she cherished, and as such it warmed my heart that she would wish to share such a book with me.

"Well...not yet, it's not," Amaleen replied, laughing a little.

Confused, I opened the book, and carefully as I could, I paged through it. The pages were all crisp, and new. It smelt of fresh vellum. "It is blank," I murmured as much to myself as to Amaleen.

"Not entirely," Amaleen said, wringing her hands nervously. "It's a book in which to...write. Your own poetry, I mean. I thought..." Amaleen was flustered again. She seemed that way more often lately. It seemed she got that way now whenever she was genuinely worried about what I might think. I also think she could not help but compare herself to Lenira in her mind. I could not blame her. "I thought maybe...now that we're..." She swallowed, then forced herself to peer up at me, meeting my gaze. Her blue eyes were wet and shimmering with an odd mixture of both fear and hope. "I thought perhaps we could fill those pages together."

For a moment I was silent, Hell, I was damn near stunned. Amaleen wanted to write poems with me? "I...do not know what to say..." Which was a rare feat to have achieved. "I would be happy...honored even, to share this book with you, Amaleen."

Amaleen's face slowly broke out into a beautiful, shining smile as though the sun had finally forced its way through a cloudy morning. She jumped to her feet, and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. I found myself returning the gesture, pressing a paw to her back to hug her all the more tightly. She pressed her lips to my ear, gently kissed it, and then whispered to me with a sheepish giggle.

"I'm glad you think so. I...got it started already." She pulled back a little bit to smile at me. "You can read it, if you want."

Unable to stop from grinning so hard my jaw ached, I carefully returned to the front page. Upon the inside cover, she had scrawled an inscription in dark ink.

To my new friend Valyrym,

May the poetry I've found in your heart ever shine,

And may you fill these pages with the beauty I've come to see inside you.

Amaleen.

There was more. She had scrawled a poem on the first page, but I suddenly found myself unable to read it. My throat was clenching, and my eyes were watering, and I could no longer give her beautiful words their proper due. I slowly closed the book, and set it aside, careful as could be. I looked away for a moment, my jaw set.

"Thank you, Amaleen," I managed to whisper. It was all I could do at the moment. I took a few deep breaths, and calmed myself a little. "I don't know how you do it, but you always find a way to touch my heart. Even when you had no reason to care for me, you-"

"I have many reasons to care for you now, Valyrym," Amaleen said firmly.

Smiling, I turned and pressed my muzzle against her cheek, and licked her gently. "Thank you, Amaleen," I said again. "The book is wonderful, and what you've written is...thank you!"

"That's the third time you've said that in the last minute," she giggled, turning her head so I could lick at her neck a little. "I'm...glad you like it. I was worried you wouldn't. I'd have felt quite the fool if I let you read that inscription and found out you didn't...feel...the way that..."

"I think you know I do," I whispered to her, my heart swelling. "You don't have to be afraid of it, Amaleen. It would never be like it was for Lenira. You would be like the sun, and each day you rose your light would shine upon me and brighten my world."

This time it was Amaleen's turn to try and hold back tears. She hugged my head fiercely against her body, trembling. Her warmth poured through her clothing and into my muzzle as she clung to me. Her voice shook. "You see, Valyrym? You do have beauty in your heart. Yet you hesitate to let anyone see it. You wrap your heart in bramble to keep it safe, but those thorns will pierce you just as easily."

"I will not hide my heart from you, Amaleen," I murmured, stroking her back softly. "I would hide nothing from you now. I would share everything I have with you. You, more than anyone I have ever known, understand me, and if you would let me, I would share my life with you for all our days."

Amaleen began to cry. I felt her tears running down my scales as she buried her face against my muzzle. She cried harder than I thought she would. Her tears brought my own despite my efforts to hide them. After a moment, she pulled herself away from me, and looked down at her feet.

"I don't know if I can do that, Valyrym," she said, her voice a pained whisper.

"Wh...what?" I pulled my head back. For a moment, I felt as though I'd bared my soul to her and she had plunged a knife into it. "But...I thought..." Had this been some ploy? Had she treated me so kindly just to earn my affections, and then toss them back in my face the way I'd once unknowingly done to Lenira? No, surely not. But then, what? I found myself whimpering, my spines all flat against my head. "What...did I do wrong?"

"What?" Amaleen blinked, and a look of horror twisted her face. "No, Valyrym, no!" She swiftly moved to hug my head again. "You've done nothing wrong!"

"Then...because...I'm a dragon..." I trailed off, hanging my head a little. I should have known Amaleen might come to love me, but would not truly wish to dedicate her life to a dragon.

"No!" Amaleen said fiercely, grasping my muzzle and forcing me to meet her eyes. There was pain in her gaze, and fear, but it was not the fear I expected. "Valyrym, you will outlive me. No matter how much we may care for each other, no matter how deep our love may grow, we cannot spend our days together because my days will end long before yours. I could not do that to you."

That was why she was afraid. That was the fear I saw in her now, and the fear I saw the day before. I was wrong when I saw her in the graveyard. She was not afraid of loving me because I was a dragon, nor was she afraid that I would treat her as badly as I'd treated Lenira. She was not even afraid of what her village might think of her. No, the fear Amaleen held inside her was fear for the pain I would feel as I watched her grow old long before I would ever feel the aches of age.

"You are a beautiful spirit, Amaleen," I said, my throat dry, my eyes still wet. "You are unlike anyone I have ever known among dragons and men and any other race of the world. You are beautiful through and through and you make me feel like no one else ever has. Not Lenira, not Kylaryn, nor anyone I've known. You show me the best parts of myself that even I did not know were there. If you would take me, Amaleen, if you would have me, I would gladly spend the rest of your days by your side."

Amaleen's breath shuddered. She sank to her knees, tears running down the sun-kissed skin of her cheeks. I lowered myself with her, till I was on my belly. She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around my head, and pressed her face to mine. "You would watch me grow old, Valyrym. You would see me age, and in time, you would see me die." Her voice shook heavily, and she slowly stroked my throat with a hand. "You know how painful that is. I think it made you a better person, but I can only imagine how it came to hurt you. Would you truly put yourself through that again, and willingly?"

"Yes," I said, hissing my response with vehemence. "Absolutely!"

"Why?" Amaleen finally cried out, as if she couldn't understand why I would put myself through such pain again.

"Because I love you," I said without hesitation.

Putting words to my feelings was all I could stand. I began to cry against Amaleen. She held me, as she always held me when my emotions became too intense for me to bear. I do not know why I cried to her so often. I had rarely cried before she became a part of my life. She simply had a way of drawing out the most intense emotions within myself, those that when I was alone I would prefer to suppress. I did not like to think of dragons as creatures who cried, and yet Amaleen had now witnessed me do so on numerous occasions.

Perhaps it was just because I had finally admitted to her the truth of it. That I loved a human. As I have said, love is not always an emotion dragons ever truly feel. To this day, as deeply as I cared for Lenira, I am not sure I ever truly loved her. Not the way I had come to love Amaleen. I loved my son, of course, but after Valar I had never loved anyone else so completely until I came to know Amaleen at her all.

"I would gladly watch you age, Amaleen," I said when I had a little more control of myself. "I would be honored and joyful to do so, just knowing you chose to share your life with a foolish, selfish old beast like me," I sniffed, and took a few breaths. "No matter the pain I would feel at your lose it would be but a darkened speck against all the brilliant light of the happiness a life spend alongside you would have brought me."

"Then...I would have you there with me," Amaleen said at last, her voice barely audible.

"I swear to you, Amaleen," I murmured. "My wings are strong enough for both of us, and I will bear your burdens for the rest of your days."

Amaleen sniffed, and managed a tiny giggle. "I do not know how it has happened," she said, giggling just a little more. "But I have come to love you too, Valyrym."

"It must be because I'm so sexy," I murmured through tears that had quickly shifted to those of happiness. I was glad to hear Amaleen laugh at my attempt to ease the tension. I smiled, and for a time we just shared our embrace. I lifted a paw and gently stroked her arm. "I swear to you, Amaleen, I will treat you so much better."

"I know, Valyrym," Amaleen said, stroking my jaw.

When the two of us had both stopped crying like the silly hatchling I felt like, I slowly pulled back from her. I cocked my head, smiling. "I take it you were hoping to discuss this with me? When we came out here, I mean."

Amaleen nodded a little bit, fussing with her blouse. "I was. I was nervous, though. I think we both knew what feelings were developing but...I don't think either of us would know what that would lead to, or how it would turn out."

"I certainly didn't," I admitted, my smile growing a little. "I feel better now that we've talked about it. Now that we...understand. Now that we're..." I paused, unsure of the word to use. "...Together." I blinked, hoping I had that right. "We are...together, aren't we?"

Amaleen giggled a bit, rubbing me between my nostrils. "We are. You're cute when you're flustered."

"So are you," I murmured, and licked her hand. "Do you feel better about things now?"

"Completely." Amaleen smiled, though it soon turned into a scowl. "Though I'm worried about what Kylaryn may think."

I took a breath, and huffed a sigh. "She shall have to get used to it." Part of me felt guilty. I hoped that taking Amaleen as my...my mate...would not hurt Kylaryn too deeply. She did not deserve to be hurt anymore. And yet, Kylaryn knew well enough that it was unlikely the two of us would ever truly stay together. Even before Valar was hurt, the more time she spent searching for her brother, the more I think we'd drifted apart. "Kylaryn and I...are friends. But...beyond that...we have a sort...understanding. Neither of us thought it would last forever."

"Still..." Amaleen moved her pack a little further away from the river, wiping at her reddened eyes. "I hope she's not going to be mad that you've taken me as a mate."

I could not help smirking, looking Amaleen over. "Well, we aren't mates yet. Not technically, anyway."

"Dirty old lizard," Amaleen said, giggling.

"Are you..." I found myself curious. "Interested in me? That way, I mean?" I quickly looked away, feeling sheepish. If she was not interested in me sexually, that would not diminish my love for her. I would still wish to stay by her side. I would just live a more...frustrated life for a number of decades. "It is alright if you are not, Amaleen. If you do not find dragons attractive, that in no way diminishes how I feel or my desire to spend life at your side."

Amaleen only smiled at me, and began to unlace her boots. "I think it's time for a swim, Valyrym."

I blinked, and cocked my head at her. Then I rose and started towards the water. I paused and looked back at her as she pulled off one of her boots. While I kept staring at her, she playfully tossed her boot at my rump. I yelped when it bounced off my haunch, and hissed at her. She only laughed, and pulled her other boot off as well, cocking it back behind her head.

"In the water, Dragon!" She giggled and stuck her tongue out. "Or I aim the next one lower!"

"You'd do that anyway," I muttered under my breath, but approached the water. I dipped a single paw in, and found it was actually rather warm. Not exceedingly so, but far warmer than I'd expected to find water so high up in the mountains. "You're right, Amaleen, it is rather warm."

"Told you," Amaleen said, dropping her boot. "The mountain runoff and the hot spring balance each other out."

The river did not hold much of a current this far from the falls, and I waded in until the waters had reached my belly. Then I flopped down and send a wave cascading away from me in all directions, with just my head and neck sticking out of the water. I peered at Amaleen, curious to see if she was planning to strip completely nude before she went swimming.

"That looks more like lazing about than swimming, Dragon," Amaleen said with a grin.

"You were expecting me to swim laps up and down the river?" I lifted a paw and made a show of paddling one-legged at the surface.

"I was expecting you to do something other than stare at me while I disrobe."

"And miss what is no doubt a world class show? I think not!" I laughed, more little waves rippling around me as my body shook. Then I softened my playful tone. "If you want me to look away, I shall."

Amaleen bit her lower lip, and then laughed to herself. She shook her head as if she couldn't believe the situation she had put herself in. I was pleasantly surprised to hear her sigh in contentment when she made up her mind, and began to undress. Amaleen peeled her lilac toned blouse up and over her head, exposing her body to me for the first time. She hardly had a warriors form, and indeed looked a little softer even than Lenira had, especially around the middle. The skin across her breasts and belly was a shade paler than that of her face. Due to her mixed bloodline, without the help of the sun her skin was not as lightly bronzed as the other Aran'alians. Her breasts were a bit smaller than Lenira's had been, the best reference that I had. They still seemed to have a good bit of perk to them, and while Amaleen was certainly no virgin, she had no children of her own, either. I felt she was perhaps not as proud of her body as she should have been, and yet I thought it was stunning.

Amaleen unbuttoned her black breeches, and hooked her thumbs into them, and then slowly tugged them down across her plump hips. If she had anything on beneath them, she tugged those down at the same time. Soon her garments were pooled around her feet, and she stepped out of them, and for a moment allowed me to enjoy the sight of her completely nude. Her legs, like her body, looked lovely and soft and yet still quite curvy. I liked curvy. Between her thighs, the folds of her sex were only lightly obscured by a patch of short, dark hair. I always found it rather exotic to see hair in such a place, though I had also seen a few humans who chose to remove it as well.

Amaleen bit her lip, her arms twitched and shifted as she fought the urge to cover herself. Before she could actually say anything, I smiled at her, beckoning in her towards the water with a paw. "You're beautiful, Amaleen."

"You really think so?" Her voice was soft, and she approached me on legs that were just lightly shaking.

"I don't know how anyone could think otherwise," I assured her.

That made her smile. And her happiness made me smile in turn. When she reached the water, she waded in nearly to her waist, tiny waves splashing around her legs. Then she took a breath, and dove under the surface. She swam a bit beneath the water, and resurfaced a little ways upstream. Her hair now clung to her body in dark, slightly wavy lines, her breasts hovered just above the water, and droplets ran down their slopes. By now I was already quite thick in my sheath, and as I watched her slowly back away from me through the water, I felt myself beginning to slide free. The water felt even warmer against such exposed flesh.

Amaleen backpedaled away from me as if in slow motion, moving gradually upstream, water gently swirling around. After a moment, she waved at me to follow her, giggling a little bit. "It's warmer this way."

"Is it, then," I purred to myself as I started to slosh after her.

I saw her eyes shift, sliding under my belly a moment. The water was clear, and I knew she could see some red beneath my body. I hoped her giggle indicated the right sort of amusement. After all not all of it was out yet and I didn't want her to get the wrong impression of dragons. She kept backing away. The water grew a little deeper and soon had covered her breasts. She moved a little closer to shore, and once more her chest emerged from the waters.

Following her, it was easy to see she was right about the water. It was definitely getting warmer. The stream also widened out a little bit, and it seemed as though the current of cold water coming from upstream ran along one side of it, while the spring itself was located in a wider, shallower area near the other shoreline. A sandbar ran beneath the surface, and Amaleen soon sat down upon it where the water was shallow and warm.

As I watched her, she scooped up a few handfuls of the coarse sand, the grains mingling gray and tan. She began to rub at herself with a bit of the wet sediment. For a moment, I was surprised to see her scrubbing herself with the sand. That was how dragons often washed in lakes and rivers. Rough sand was a good way to help scrub away stubborn bits of dirt and grime, or dried blood after a hunt.

"That is how dragons bath themselves," I said, nearing the sand bar.

"Oh?" Amaleen giggled, teasingly rubbing some of the sand across one of her breasts. I could see her nipples perk up instantly. "And here, I thought you beasts just used your tongues."

I snorted, flaring my spines a bit. "That too," I admitted, then slapped my paw against the water to splash her.

She yelped and nearly fell backwards, only to recover and throw a wet clump of sand at me. It splattered across my face and she burst out laughing. "That's what you get!"

I ducked my head under the water to rinse the sand, and then laughed. "Between you and Valar I do not think I've ever had so many things thrown at me in such a short period of time."

Amaleen giggled, and went back to washing herself. Soon she rose up, and scrubbed at her belly with the sand as well. The water caused all the hair betwixt her thighs to smooth down against her, allowing me a better look at the lips of her sex. They looked soft, and lightly swollen. By the time Amaleen worked her hands down between her legs, to scrub at her thighs and her crotch, I was completely unsheathed. That little vixen was teasing me and cleaning herself at the same time.

It occurs to me that perhaps this is a point in which I should skip ahead in my tale. As you can imagine, the details for the next little while are going to grow quite sordid. Oh? You wish me to go on Val Junior? You naughty little thing. Very well, so long as Alia does not mind. I should think she might have heard me describe enough of my sexual escapades already. Ah, so you enjoy those parts of my tale, do you Alia? Very well, I shall go on.

...You naughty girl, you.

As if she were completely oblivious to the red spear jutting out beneath my belly, Amaleen asked, "Is this arousing you, Valyrym?"

I grunted. "Considerably."

Amaleen only giggled a little more. Twisting a bit in the water, she rolled half onto her side so that she could work the sand against her rump and down the back of her legs. "Then I hope that answers your question."

Question? Ah. Yes. I'd asked her if she found me attractive. I purred a little. "I think it does. Though, you could just be a tease."

"I could be, yes," Amaleen said, working the sand down to her feet. She smiled at me. "Can I see it?"

"Of course," I murmured, half in a daze.

My stomach twisted a little. I'd never felt nervous about showing anyone my own mating tool before. I was a dragon, and as a dragon I'd always considered myself naturally well equipped. Yet, I had never shown myself in such a way to someone that I truly cared for so deeply. Someone that I loved. Amaleen's opinion was the only one that mattered.

I moved to where the water was shallow and then I settled down. I rolled over onto my side so that my underbelly was just above the surface, and then I lifted a hind leg up to completely expose myself to Amaleen. When I did so she went still. The wet sand slid through her fingers. I watched her eyes trail down my plated chest, and across the scales of my belly until they reached the red flesh jutting out beneath it. By then I was quite hard, and my ridges were all fully flared out. I watched her face anxiously for any sign of her thoughts.

After a moment, she smiled, and moving to her hands and knees, crawled through the shallow water towards me. "It's actually rather beautiful," she murmured as she came near my belly.

"You...really think so?" I asked, hesitant.

"I do," Amaleen said. She reached out with a hand and gently teased a few of my lower belly scales, not quite touching my more exposed flesh. "Even more so than I'd been told."

"She...told you about it?" That made me blush under my scales, the inside of my ears reddening. I suddenly had the vivid mental image of an older Lenira and a younger Amaleen sitting together at some pub, chatting and giggling about a dragon's penis like gossipy bar wenches.

"Only because I asked her to," Amaleen admitted, laughing. "I may have hated you but that doesn't mean I wasn't...at least a little curious. Especially given the way she always came home so happy."

That made me laugh. It was a hearty, happy laugh. "I see!"

"She didn't want to tell me at first, but we'd both had a few drinks..." Amaleen half confirmed my mental image. "Eventually she whispered to me it was like a magnificent crimson spear. Though...now that I've seen it myself, I think it looks more akin to a delightfully twisted work of art than a weapon. A thing of natural beauty rather than something to fear."

As Amaleen spoke, she worked her hands over my belly, and when she reached my shaft, she danced her fingers all around it, never quite touching it. She soon had me murmuring in delight and trembling an anticipation. It was not all that unlike the things Lenira had done. She used to enjoy teasing me a while. As I considered that, Amaleen shifted herself a little, and ran a single finger against my scrotum. She traced a line just between my balls, and I hissed in delight. My eggs tightened up in reaction, and that made her giggle.

As she tantalized me with her fingers, tracing them all over a single testicle, another thought occurred to me. When Lenira and I had played around, she had nearly always brought me to my climax first. Sometimes I repaid her for that effort, and much to my later shame, sometimes I did not. I had already promised Amaleen things would be different between us, and that was going to start right now.

"Stop," I said. She looked up at me, confused. Before she could get the wrong idea, I added, "I want to make you happy, first."

Amaleen smiled at me, glancing at my mating tool again. "But it's so ready and willing right now." She turned again and stuck her tongue at me. "Wait too long and it's liable to go back into hiding."

That made me laugh. "Males can be finicky, yes. But I would like to think I don't have that problem." That wasn't always entirely true, but a dragon did have his ego to stoke.

Oh, hush Alia. I scarcely think mine has been anything but hard as a rock when you and I have played around.

"Even if it should retreat," I murmured to Amaleen. "I assure you you'll have no trouble coaxing it out again." I smiled at her, and rolled over onto my belly to prevent her from reaching my member so easily. At least the sands beneath the water were soft enough to avoid being uncomfortable. "But what I want right now is to make you happy."

Amaleen seemed unsure, and I twisted myself around to face her, grinning wickedly as I pressed my muzzle to her belly. "I shall hold you down and lick you till you scream if I must."

Amaleen laughed, and stroked my nose a little. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"No, it does not." I tilted my horned head back a little to peer up at her. For a moment, I spoke earnestly. "But I should like very much if you helped me to learn just what makes you happy. Even after the times I was with Lenira, human females are still relatively..." I sought the right word a moment, and then with a sheepish smile, I settled on, "...Mysterious."

Amaleen cupped her hand under my jaw, and lifted my head. "Alright, Valyrym. I'll do what I can. For starters...human girls...we like foreplay. We like to be teased first." She bit her lip a moment, then shook her head. "Or, at least I do. I suppose I can't speak for all human women."

"You are the only one who matters to me, Amaleen." I smiled at her, pulled my head back, and gestured with my nose towards a patch of sand with only a little water above it, a good place for her to lay down. "If you would be so kind as to make yourself comfortable over there, I would like very much to learn to properly tease you."

I may not yet have been that good at teasing a female but Amaleen certainly knew how to make a male long for it. She rolled to her hands and knees, presenting her delightfully curved rump towards my face like a dragoness desperate to be mounted. As she crawled away from me, her hips swayed back and forth, and in her position I had quite the clear view of the lips of her sex, parted ever so slightly to reveal a hint of pinkness framed by dark curls. Unable to help myself, I reached back with a paw and rubbed my ridges a little.

When Amaleen reached the patch of sand in question, she twisted round once more and ended up laying on her back, her legs splayed. I followed her over, and carefully lowered myself down upon my belly so as not to trap my erection between myself and the river bottom. I squirmed forward a bit, positioning my head so that the tip of my muzzle was just pressed between her breasts. I smiled at her and she reached down to caress the pebbly scales of my face.

"I should think my tongue is best suited to the pursuit of your pleasure, and the prolonging of your anticipation," I purred to her. I lifted a paw and set it atop her leg, slowly caressing her thigh with my pad. She shivered, and I grinned. "Though I think my pads will also suit me well. I know that your breasts are sensitive, but where else do you like to be touched?"

Up to this point, Amaleen had managed to go without blushing too deeply. But hearing me speak so bluntly about what we were doing was beginning to bring out quite a crimson tint to her cheeks. As far as I was concerned, I was being quite tactful in my words. Kylaryn and I used to say such things to each other often when we shared pleasure. It was a common enough question among draconic lovers to ask your partner where they wished to be licked next.

After a moment, Amaleen got over her embarrassment, and slipped her hands beneath my jaw. She pushed it up a little and I raised my head. Then she gently tugged me, and I moved it forward. It was a simple enough lover's game to grasp, and it would help me learn just what made Amaleen happy. She pulled my snout to her throat, and then pressed herself against me. I wondered for a moment if Amaleen knew what a submissive gesture it was among dragons to bare your throat for another's teeth. Or in this case, another's tongue.

I decided against asking. If she didn't already know the meaning of the gesture among dragons, I doubted it would prove stimulating. So I parted my jaws only enough to let my tongue slide free, and I began lap at her throat. Slow, loving licks that slid from the nape of her neck all the way up to her chin. As I slowly bathed her throat with the heat of my tongue, I continued to stoke her thigh with my paw. I slid my grasp further inside her thigh, and found that she parted her legs a little more for me. Curious, I unsheathed my claws just a tiny bit. I knew Kylaryn enjoyed the feel of my talons against her scales, but I also knew that Amaleen's skin was far softer and more sensitive.

When she felt my claw tips prickle and glide against her soft skin, she gasped and tensed up. Though, when I retracted my claws, she reached down to stroke my neck with a hand, moaning softly. "Use them," she murmured. "Just be careful."

That wouldn't be a problem. I slipped my claw tips free once more, and slowly dragged them up and down her skin. Each time my talons neared the apex of her thigh, where her leg met her body, she gasped a little louder. I pulled my tongue back, just nuzzling at her throat. Gradually I lowered my head till my muzzle brushed her breasts. I already knew those were sensitive, and so I gave each nipple a slow lick before I began to lift my head again. The licks made her groan, and the feeling of my neck scales sliding across one of her feminine mounds had her moaning even louder, her nipple hard against my scales.

As I returned to lapping at her, I playfully tugged at a wisp of hair surrounding her sex. I tugged as gently as I could, I did not wish to hurt her. I tugged a few bits of it here and there, and she squirmed lightly. Then I simply cupped her sex with my paw for a moment, relishing the warmth of it against my pad. Soon, I licked a single digit and began to stroke it up and down the cleft of her flesh. She murmured, balling her hands up into fists, and pressed herself against me.

"Oh, no, no," I said, grinning at her. "You said you want to be teased, so now you have to be patient."

"Wicked thing," she said, her voice little more than a throaty whisper.

"Exceedingly," I assured her as she pressed her hand between my nostrils. I nuzzled at her hand, and then slowly licked her fingers. I began to purr as she stroked my nose, the noise burbling and rumbling in my throat. As she added a little more pressure to my snout, I ever so slowly eased my head down.

One inch at a time, I licked my way down her neck, and across her chest. I turned my head back and forth, attempting to pay attention to each of her breasts in turn. First my tongue rolled across the gentle slope at the top of them, then I worked it down the inside curve, and lapped at the little space between them. In the process my scales continued to brush and caress her nipples, and the obviously intense sensation made her gasp a little harder each time. It was not a hard concept for me to understand. After all, Kylaryn sometimes liked to rub my unsheathed maleness with the scaled parts of her body just because the sensation was nearly too intense. It could damn near drive a male dragon mad, yet that made the soothing touch of her tongue that followed even more blissful.

Come to think of it, that was a good idea. I let one paw drift up away from her sex and thighs, and instead rubbed her hip in a circle. Then my claw tips drifted up along her side, over her ribs. All the while I began to nuzzle at her left breast. I rubbed the fine scales of my snout back and forth over the little pinkish nub of her nipple, causing her to groan for me. Each caress of scales seemed to cause her nipple to get even harder, and the noises she made grew ever louder. When she seemed ready to push my snout away as if she could take no more, I slipped my tongue back out and rolled it in a lazy circle all around her breast.

That was the loudest, most delighted moan she'd yet made for me.

Yes, Alia, that is exactly how I learned that little trick. What's that? Of course Val Junior is paying attention. I'm sure he's keen to pick up a few tricks for his eventual cotton-stuffed lovers. Besides, he loves the dirty details. Almost as much as you do, Alia. No argument, hmm? Nice to know.

With this new trick in mind, I began to tease Amaleen's breasts relentlessly. I nuzzled one until she seemed unable to take any more, and then I licked it. Then I licked the other one until that too seemed to drive her mad, only to begin rubbing my muzzle against it instead. Soon, I began to add a third sensation as well; that of my paw pad. While licking or nuzzling one breast, I cupped the other in my paw and gently squeezed it. With a little guidance from Amaleen, I learned the way she most enjoyed having them caressed. She preferred I work my fingers in a gentle circle around the mound of soft flesh, squeezing it just slightly.

As I played with her breasts, she began to squirm a little more beneath me. She rubbed her legs together now and then, and I playfully pushed them apart. After what seemed like hours with my muzzle against her chest, I finally began to work my head further down. It was a slow process, and I used the same trick along her belly that I'd used further up. I nuzzled her flesh, stimulating it with my scales and then soothing it with my tongue. I did not wish her breasts to feel neglected though. In the way she had guided my muzzle earlier, now I gently guided her own hands until she was playing with herself above my head.

How delightful.

As I eased my head down her body, I returned my claws to her flesh. I lifted one paw at a time, bracing myself with the other, and gently dragged my talons down her skin. I was careful not to cut or scratch her; at most I left little red lines to linger across her body. Though a dragon might appreciate being given a few mating scars here and there I somehow knew a human would not be so appreciative. But I left a few sets of red marks that ran down the sides of her body, over her hips and down her legs.

As the scales of my chin brushed the first trace of hair around her sex, I licked back and forth across her belly, parallel to the line of hair that began just between her thighs and formed a faint sort of dark triangle. She moaned, and pressed her hips to me, and I dropped my muzzle down swiftly. Wanting to surprise her a little, I shoved my snout right up against her sex and pressed my tongue inside her.

Amaleen cried out, making fists against the sand on which she lay. She tasted faintly of salted sweetness, a more delightful treat than any prepared for me in the markets she'd taken me to. My love for her made her taste all the better. I rolled my tongue inside her, seeking places that made her gasp or cry out again. When I found them I worked the wet muscle against them for a few moments. After I'd located several such places, I withdraw my tongue from her sex and proceeded to lap at her thighs slowly and teasingly.

"H-Hey!" She called out, laughing a little. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Teasing you, as you asked for," I murmured, smirking up at her. No one said I couldn't have a little fun with the way I teased her.

"Keep acting like a brat, and you'll be lucky if you get a turn being touched at all!" Amaleen laughed a little, and playfully kicked a foot in the air as if to add to a second threat. Wet sand and droplets of water arced from her toes. Then she pressed her foot against my shoulder, and I curled my neck back down to lick along her thigh.

"You withhold my pleasure and I'm going to have to give you a spanking," I purred against her leg, nuzzling her thigh back and forth before sliding my tongue across it.

"Never know," Amaleen said playfully. "You might find I enjoy that more than you expect."

"my dear," I murmured, letting her feel my teeth against the skin on the very inside her thigh. I nibbled her a little, and then licked the tiny marks I'd gently made with my sharp teeth. "If you should like a rump covered with red paw prints, I should be happy to give it to you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Amaleen said through her moans. She lifted her hips again, pressing her sex towards my snout.

This time I slipped a paw behind her to grasp her buttocks, squeezing one of her cheeks. I let my claw tips prick her there, too. She moaned a little more, and cupping her in my grasp, I wedged the end of my snout between her thighs best I could. I began to lap at her sex, trailing my tongue across the lips of it. Then I dragged just the tip of my tongue against her cleft, and flicked it over her rather engorged clit, glad to see she was as aroused as I'd hoped.

I began to lap at her more fervently, and was soon swirling my tongue around her clit in slow, firm circles. Amaleen's moans were music. There was something about the sounds she made that were different to me than any other female's pleasure noises. For a moment, I could not place it. I had heard Kylaryn groan in a similar way many times, and I'd heard human girls give voice to their pleasure before as well. After a few more tongue swirls during which I relished the way her cries rose in pitch and fluttered in delight, I realized what the difference was. Never before had I pleasured someone because I loved them. Until now, I had only shared pleasure out of mutual lust, or as payment for gifting me with the same satisfaction.

Now, listening to Amaleen groan for me, I found that my feelings for her made it eminently more satisfying to hear her crying out in ecstasy. Unexpectedly I felt as long as she was left completely satisfied, I would be the same even if she had not brought me to release. In that moment, all I wanted was to make Amaleen happy. To give her the pleasure which she so richly deserved. She had made me a better creature, and while I did not have the opportunity to do the same, I could at least share with her the love I never gave myself a chance to share with Lenira. As long as I was around, Amaleen would not go unloved or neglected.

I pushed my tongue deep inside her, twisting and swirling it. She began to buck her hips against my muzzle, her skin grinding against my scales. She cried out, squeezing her own breasts, her body trembling. Now, I kept the ministrations of my tongue constant, and the pleasure ever-flowing. I kneaded at her rump with my paws, and began to purr deeply to her. The sound I would later hear described as stones tumbling in an empty barrel sent deep vibrations through my muzzle, and through my tongue, adding to Amaleen's stimulation.

I twisted my tongue inside her, swirling it as though I were licking the cream from one of those market stall pastries. I shifted my body a little to lay partly upon my side. That allowed me to free up my other front paw, which I was soon using to stroke her clit with a single slick digit. I found that little bead of bliss with the pad of a finger, and began to roll it in circles, now and then reversing course, or stroking it a little harder, a little faster, then slower again.

It was soon clear she was nearing her peak, and I certainly did not stop. Quite the contrary, in fact. I worked my tongue around inside her, pulling my muzzle back and forth a little bit to pump it in and out of her as well. My scales stroked against her thighs. I worked her clit faster beneath my finger, caressing it ceaselessly as her breath caught. In my peripheral vision I saw her squeezing her own breasts as she tossed her head back against the sands. She gave a few increasingly desperate gasps, and with a final cry she came with quaking force. I worked her all through her orgasm, some of her juices spilling against my tongue and scaled nose. She writhed and twisted in delight, and when she finally began to calm, I decided that wasn't quite enough.

I reversed my tongue and my paw, and pushed a digit inside her, thick enough perhaps to equate to the size of a human's member. I began to pump it in and out of her, even before she'd quite finished with her first orgasm. I pressed my nose to the top of her sex, and let my tongue slide free to find her clit once more. As I began to lick at it, she lowered her hands and pressed them to my snout. At first she gave me a half hearted shove as if trying to tell me one was enough.

I ignored her, rolling my hot tongue around her clit. Within a few shuddering breaths her attempts to push my head away had turned into groping motions for something to hold onto. She sat up a little as I worked finger and tongue together, pausing only to change my motions and rhythms a little bit. I would swirl my tongue back the other way, or slowly lap at her bead instead. Soon Amaleen grabbed one of my ears, and one of my horns as though to hold me in place until she was finished with me. As if I ever would have stopped before she wanted.

"Val! Val!" She cried out a few times, twisting my name into breathless grunts of delight. Soon, the hand on her ear drifted down over my face to stroke my snout lovingly, but the hand on my horn remained. She seemed to like the handhold. "Oh, Val! Aaah!"

Amaleen jerked her hips towards me again, and had soon started to work herself in time with my own motions. She ground herself against my paw and snout alike, and I relished every moment, every cry, and every motion. Given that we were hardly starting from the beginning this time, it did not take her too much longer to be worked up towards her second orgasm. This time as I felt it growing near, I sped up the movements of both tongue and paw. My tongue a near whirlwind of delight racing around her clit, my finger frantically pumping through her parted petals as if to simulate the motions of a male about to release his own seed.

The second time she came, she threw her head back and screamed. She actually screamed. Oh, I liked that. I had never quite heard a female scream her pleasure that way, and to me it was a song of joy, bliss, and love. Pleasure I had given to someone I cared so deeply for. It was still a new experience for me, and I relished it as long as I could.

I worked my tongue around her for a few more long moments, and had she wanted me to push her towards a third climax, I would have happily done so. For the moment, though, she seemed quite satisfied. She even squirmed back a bit, lifting her foot to press it against my snout and push my head away, laughing.

"Alright, alright," she said, panting heavily, and giggling, her face bright red. "That was...amazing, Valyrym! Let me catch my breath now!"

"Oh, very well," I said, pretending to pout. "If I must."

Amaleen squirmed a few paces away from me, and I licked at my nose, savoring her lingering taste. I rolled a bit more onto my side, hoisting up a hind leg. With little shame, I began to masturbate. Not heavily, but I couldn't resist touching myself after what we'd just done. I enjoyed the sight of the woman, laying there nude and spent. My tool was still quite erect, and any flagging I might have suffered while concentrating on another's pleasure was quickly alleviated by the motions of my paw.

"Are you going to stroke yourself off, or are you going to let me do it?" Amaleen asked. She giggled, and propped her head upon her palm, her elbow in the sand.

"I was rather hoping you'd help out," I admitted, grinning. As she watched, I slowly stroked my crimson spear from its ridged base up to its faintly flared tip and back down again. "Though if you'd rather just watch me do it, that's alright too."

Amaleen rolled to her hands and knees, and crawled back to towards me. "You enjoy being watched, do you?"

"I..." Hmm. An interesting question. As a matter of fact, I realized I did. "Yes. I do. Though, not as much as I enjoy having someone else do it for me."

"Mmm," Amaleen said, moving to her knees when she got to my head. She reached out and took my muzzle in her hands, pulling it to her own face. She pressed her lips against the tip of my snout, kissing me as best she could. She licked my lips a little, and I did what I could to assist her, letting the tip of my tongue play out to meet her own. She stroked my throat while we kissed in our own way. When she finally pulled her head back, she grinned at me. "Stroke it a little for me then."

Smiling, I did as she bid me. I began to masturbate while she watched. I rubbed myself slowly, gliding my paw from my base up until my pointed tip vanished within the black embrace. Then I slowly ran my paw back down it till my hardened, flared ridges were in my grasp. I groaned in pleasure, flexing myself just a little so that the minor flare stood out, then I stroked back up to it. Soon, I had a gentle rhythm going as I stroked myself, thrusting my hips ever so slightly at the end of each little stroke.

"Mmm," Amaleen murmured. "Good boy. How does that feel?"

"Good," I crooned for her.

Amaleen smiled, and kissed me again. Then she began to crawl along my body, pressing her lips to my scales each step of the way. She kissed me all down my throat, first along my jaw line and then down my neck. She rubbed me with her hands, too. At my chest she took the time to kiss each of my chest plates, her hand sliding ahead to tease the scales further along my underbelly. When she reached the area just beyond my chest scutes, past my front leg, she pressed herself against me, giggling.

When I didn't move, she glanced up at me, grinning. "Roll over, you silly Dragon. Unless you want to lay on your side with your hind leg hoisted up the entire time."

"That does sound rather awkward," I admitted, and slowly rolled over onto my back. Now, my scarlet erection lay against my belly, with my ebon stones hanging loosely beneath it towards my tail.

Oh, very funny Alia. No, I'm sure they did not hang as low then as they do now.

Amaleen knelt near my hip and leaned forward, rubbing her fingers against my belly scales. She rested her chin against me a moment, staring at my erection. I smiled at her, she looked quite demure and playful that way. Slowly, she reached out, and ran a single finger down my shaft. I sucked in a slow breath, shivering just enough to click some of my scales against each other.

Then she let her fingers trail across my balls. They tightened slightly, and she scooped one of them into her hand then let it fall from her fingers. She took an orb into her hand again, and gently rolled it. "They're quite impressive up close, aren't they," she said, giggling a bit.

"Thank you," I murmured, too happy even to be sarcastic.

Amaleen let me go, and slowly crawled up onto my belly. She made sure to drag every inch of her body against mine. Her breasts pressed to the scales of my lower belly. Her legs stroked against me. Her lips pressed against my stomach soon so did her rump. She settled down against my belly, seated on her haunches or as close as a human can come to such a position. Then she leaned forward one tantalizing inch at a time, and placed her hands on either side of my member. Soon she was practically upon her hands and knees atop me, her hindquarters delightfully pointed towards my gaze.

Amaleen lowered her face, and placed a gentle kiss at the very tip of my length. The sensation made me croon, and she swiftly followed up the kiss with another, and another. Working her lips all down my shaft towards my ridges, kissing every inch of it until she'd reached my balls. By then, her breasts were pressed on either side of my tool and I felt as though I could have easily thrust between them until I climaxed. Soon, she had taken one of my balls into her hand, and began to kiss every inch of the surface of the sack holding it. I groaned, my hind paws curling, my tail coiling.

"Ooooh, Amaleen," I said. "That feels sooo nice!"

"I'm glad," Amaleen said, her hot breath washing over my sack. "It's such a lovely jewel."

"What about the dragon it belongs to?"

Amaleen shrugged. "He's alright, I suppose." Giggling, she went back to kissing my jewel. Soon, she let it slip from her grasp only to replace it with its sibling. Amaleen kissed it all across its surface as well, and then let that ball return to hanging next to its best friend. "I hope they forgive me for kicking them."

"I think they realized their owner deserved it," I admitted, flattening my ears back.

Amaleen giggled a bit, and left it at that. She began to reverse course, kissing at the base of my shaft again. This time, she also worked her fingers across my ridges. "Are those as sensitive as they look?" she asked, though I think the way I shivered was probably answer enough.

"Yes," I said, then admitted, "You can actually over-stimulate a dragon's ridges and make him shoot his seed quite swiftly."

"Really!" Amaleen sounded quite interested in that. "So, what you're saying is, if you wake up in a foul mood some morning, and we've only a few minutes before Valar is awake. I can take you back to some hidden corner of my garden, get you out of your holster, and give your ridges a good, hard rubbing to ease all your tensions in only a minute or so?"

That was both hilariously phrased and surprisingly naughty coming from Amaleen. I laughed, my body shaking beneath her, my erection jumping a little against her form. "It's called a sheath, not a holster, and yes, that's the general idea."

"Good to know," Amaleen said, wrapping both hands around my ridges. She squeezed at them and began to stroke them gently. I cooed and trembled in delight, my tapered tip immediately drooling a little bit of slick, sticky pre-seed. "Like this?"

"Y-Yes!" I took a deep breath, groaning as she kept stroking me, waves of almost too intense bliss washing through my length. "If you do that too swiftly right now, you'll probably set me off!"

Amaleen only giggled, contemplating it. After a moment, she released my ridges, and eased herself back a little further. "I would do that, but then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Kneeling just in front of my member, she took my cock in one hand, easing it up away from my belly. Then she leaned forward, pressed her lips to my pointed tip and kissed it. Amaleen slipped her tongue out, and rolled it in a lazy circle around the highly sensitive tapered point. The sudden rush of hot pleasure all around my tip made me gasp and arch my back.

"Like that, do you?" Amaleen said, glancing back at me with a coy smirk. Wet hair swished around her shoulders. She encircled her thumb and finger best she could around the smallest section of my shaft, just beyond my spear flare. Then she began to stroke me a little bit, just a few inches up and down, but it was still enough to send my spines into an upright position, and leave me moaning. "Good dragon."

Holding my tool in place with her thumb and finger where it was narrow enough to allow her to do, she lowered her head a little more. She began to lap at my tip, and soon every few flicks of her tongue caused my tool to twitch. Each twitch in turn sent a little dribble of pre running down. Then she parted her lips, and pushed her head forward to take me into her mouth.

The stunning warmth that surrounded my tip and spear flare brought forth my loudest gasp yet. She could get that much of me into her mouth without issue. Amaleen was also wise enough to know not to press her luck and try and take in more than she could easily handle. As I moaned in delight, flaring my wings out beneath me against the wet sands, Amaleen began to bob her head. She sucked firmly against my tip, taking advantage of the fact she'd taken only four inches or so into her mouth by swiftly bobbing her head against my tip and flare and swirling her tongue around it constantly.

Once she had the hang of that, she no longer needed to use her hand to steady my maleness, and so instead she began to stroke it. Amaleen worked her hand from her mouth down to my ridges and back again. Sometimes when she reached my ridges, she squeezed them, or gave them a few quick little strokes. Other times she ran her hand past my ridges to play with my balls a little, rolling them around. Then she went back to stroking my mostly smooth, and quite hard mating toy.

All the while she continued to suck my final few inches. She worked her head constantly to provide me a wonderful sort of velvet bliss, endless stimulation rolling through my extremely sensitive tip and the minor flare just beyond it. As that pleasure built it was buoyed and added to by the lovely waves of delight from her stroking hand. The two kinds of pleasure almost seemed to battle for my attention as if fighting to see which would bring me off first. The motion she used to stroke me was more drawn out than the bobbing motions of her head, so the timing was different. It was almost like being pleasured by two people at once. It was a very different sort of delight from thrusting steadily into a female, and in some ways it was perhaps even more intense.

As Amaleen worked me towards my release, my own sounds of pleasure grew and grew. Soon I had gone from soft moans and gasps to loud snarls and cries. If we ever tried something like this in her back garden when Valar wasn't around I'd have to try and keep myself quite. At least I'd gotten used to that when Kylaryn and I fooled around. Now though, I was happy to give full voice to my growing delights.

Soon, Amaleen had me swiftly approaching the point of no return. I felt it only fair to give her a warning. "Amaleen! I'm...gonna!"

That was about all I managed to spit out.

What do you mean, I never warn you Alia? Oh, that was one time. And that was the first time! By that point in my life it had been so long since I'd been touched that way by another it happened faster than I expected. I simply didn't have time to warn you. ...Alright, so perhaps I found your surprise a little bit amusing.

At least Amaleen had a bit of warning. When I told her what was about to happen, she had just enough time to pull her head back away from her tip. By then I was already crying out, and thrusting myself into the air. My first spurt caught poor Amaleen right in the face splattering her with off-white dragon cream. She grasped my pulsing member in both hands and stroked it frantically while I came. It jumped in her hands as if trying to escape her clutches, and for several long seconds spurt after white hot spurt of dragon seed burst forth. Given that Amaleen was kneeling just before my member at that point, most of it sprayed all across her body. It splattered her face and her throat, it dripped off her breasts, and ran in sticky lines down her belly. She stroked me till I finally lay spent, and then stroked me a few more times just to see me squirm in over stimulation.

What, Alia? Oh, of course. I forgot how much you enjoy the expressions and contortions I make when I climax. I am sure that my tail coiled and its spines lashed against the sand. My hind paws splayed out and my toes curled, I beat my wings against the earth, and all my spiny crests flared out to their full extent as I roared my delight. Better? Good.

Finally, laughing, Amaleen let me go. "That is more than I've ever seen anyone shoot, before!"

I chuckled a little, lifting my horned head from the sands. "Have you ever seen anything other than a human male orgasm before?"

"No."

"Then that's your problem." I lay my head back down, smiling to myself. "I am glad to impress, though. And that felt so unbelievably wonderful..."

"I'm glad to hear it." Amaleen smiled at me.

She slipped from my belly, and sloshed out to the deeper water to bathe herself. When she was clean, she returned to me, and without asking began to gently scrub my belly with handfuls of sand. Then she rinsed me with splashed handfuls of water. Slowly, I rolled over onto my belly. Amaleen settled on some warm sand just a little ways from the water's edge. I moved towards her, and lay back down, placing my head in her lap.

Amaleen stroked my muzzle for long quiet moments. Then she lay back on the sides, and I moved my head to lay it against her body, instead. She wrapped her arms around me, cradling me to herself.

"I love you, Valyrym." At that moment in my life, those were the greatest words I had ever heard. For the rest of my days, along with the hatching of my son that would be the happiest memory in my entire life.

"I love you too, Amaleen."

---

Chapter Eight

---

"We call it Primal," Amaleen said, pulling her breeches back on sometime after we'd first shared our love in the physical sense, alongside the river. "I'm not exactly sure where the term came from, but it basically references the fact that the magic trapped inside those stones is the most primal form of magic we know of."

For a time, we had laid together, cuddling and simply sharing comfort in each other's presence. Eventually, the sun began to ease its way down towards the horizon. As we trekked back downstream in search of Amaleen's discarded clothing I remembered that I had asked her to try and explain to me about the magic. The old man clearly couldn't do so without talking in circles. As I was hardly some pupil healer in need of lessons in which solving the puzzle myself was half the task, I requested that Amaleen explain it for me instead.

"Primal is sort of like, an extra element. Or so the theory goes." Amaleen buckled up her breeches and then fetched her shirt. She pulled it over her head, and freed her hair from its confines. Then she went to her pack and dug through it for a brush. As she started to work through the tangles in her damp hair, she went on. "If you imagine the earth and the water as elements, magic was once considered an element in the same fashion. That is, it was once a greater part of the fabric that makes up the world. Just as a river can some day run dry and a lake can vanish in a drought, so to did most of the world's magic vanish. But like ancient bones frozen in the rock, sometimes magic lingers in its more basic, primal state."

"Stuck inside the stones," I said, scrunching my nose. I wasn't sure I believed her explanation, but I had to admit she made the idea much clearer than the old man had. And just because I did not believe it did not mean it was true. A dragon may believe himself invulnerable to the weapons of man, but that did not make him immortal. Whether I believed it or not was hardly the point. "How does it work, then?"

"Well, that's the part we're not sure about." Amaleen worked at a stubborn knot with the brush.

"You make it sound as if you're dead certain about everything else." I chuckled, dragging my claws through the earth.

"I believe the theory," Amaleen said with a shrug. "But that doesn't make it true, you're right."

"What causes the reaction?" I asked, thinking about Asgir's heavily scarred hands. He'd clearly been using his blood as a catalyst for many years. "Why is it only Silver Rain blood?"

Amaleen smiled at me. "No one is exactly certain. Asgir and I each have our theories."

"Better your explanation than his." I snorted.

"It's the rain," Amaleen said, waving her brush at the sky where some clouds were building in the distance. "Asgir and I agree about that, anyway. As far as any of us know, Aran'alia is the only realm in the whole of the world where the rain falls silver. It's also the only realm in all of the world where ghost stones can be found, at least to the extent of my knowledge. Now, as you know old saying among my people is that the rain is tinted by ancient magic."

"Lenira told me that, yes." I flicked my ears. I'd never believed it. Then again, I had no other explanation as to why the rain should shine so silver here.

"I'm sure she did," Amaleen smiled wistfully. "Lenira was full blooded Silver Rain. I think she was the first one I ever heard call the people of Aran'alia and our village in particular, the People of the Silver Rain." Amaleen went back to brushing her hair, sighing to herself. "She believed in all the old legends. Her parents passed them down to her, and as she never had any children of her own, she passed them down to us."

I smiled a little bit. "How many of you are there? Her...children, as it were."

Amaleen giggled. "She was already getting on in years when started raising me, so I was the only one that she raised at the time. But she'd raised quite a few other orphans or other unfortunate children over the years. She had a sister, and..."

"She died in childbirth," I said softly. I'd heard that story from Lenira.

"Yes. The child lived and Lenira helped raise the girl for a time, and after her niece was old enough to care for herself, she decided to take in those who had no where else to go."

"What about you?" I cocked my head a little. "How did you come to be raised by her?"

Amaleen gave me a strange sort of bittersweet look. She shook her brush at me. "You're getting off the topic, Val."

"Very well, Amaleen. Please continue." I chuckled, and eased myself down onto my belly. A topic to ask her about another time.

Amaleen finished brushing her hair, and stowed the brush away in her pack. She paced back and forth a little, gesturing at the sky, and then the mountains. "Lenira used to tell me that there's still wild magic in the world. That high enough in the mountains it glitters in the air at night like a curtain of stars pulled from the heavens and cast into the air itself. When the rain clouds build, the winds draw that magic up into the sky, and it pours back to the earth, spread across the land in the rain. It's the magic that makes the silver, she always said. The rain spreads it to the ground that grows the crops we eat, the grass that feeds our livestock, and the water that we drink every day."

"All those barrels," I mused, thinking about Sigil Stones. Every house there had a sloped roof with a gutter designed to funnel all the rain away and into barrels. The people used it every day. They bathed in it, they cooked with it, and most of all they drank it. For a dragon, drinking from a stream was one thing, and it certainly carried its share of silver rainwater as well. But I could not help imagining it was diluted somehow. After all, the streams themselves did not often appear silver. Yet the water in those barrels that the people of Sigil Stones drank every day was nothing but pure, silver rainwater.

"That's right," Amaleen said softly. "If there's magic in that rain, Val, then it's in each and every one of us. We've been drinking it our entire lives. Our parents drank it, their parents drank it, and on and on. The People of the Silver Rain have been drinking that water since they lived in huts made of sticks and animal hides. And that's why I believe, Val, that there's magic in our blood, too."

I had to admit, it was at least an interesting theory. I licked my nose, and flicked my tail tip. "What if you stop drinking it? Does the magic go away?"

Amaleen giggled. "Now you're just getting into conjecture."

"As if the idea of gulping down magic rain isn't already conjecture."

"Fair enough, my dear," Amaleen said, cupping my ebony chin. "It's only my opinion, mind you. But based on what I've learned in my years as healer and studying the way life works, no, I don't think it goes away. I think once it's in the blood, it lingers there. The same way certain poisons may linger in the blood. Ingest it all at once, and you'll die. But ingest a tiny bit at a time, and it builds inside you, eventually creating a sort of tolerance, and immunity."

"So, the rain has slowly filled your blood with poison," I smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes at me. I flexed my wings a little. "But why does this "Primal" in the ghost stones react to your people's blood in such a way?"

"I'm not sure, exactly."

"Then what is your theory?" I grinned. I knew she must have one.

"I think our blood has changed the magic, somehow." Amaleen picked up a gray rock, and held it out to me. "This rock has been exactly the same for thousands of years. It's been broken down into smaller and smaller pieces, but what's in the center of this is exactly the same as what was in the center of it thousands of years ago. It's the same with ghost stones. That's part of the reason we call the magic inside Primal. Because it's in exactly the same state as it was thousands of years ago, whenever it was first trapped inside that crystal." Amaleen tossed the stone to the earth. Then she tapped her chest. "But in us? In living things, in people? We're changing all the time. From one generation to another, to another, we're different. I think the magic has fused to some part of our blood, and over the generations something about it has changed. At this point, the magic in the rain and in our blood and the magic in Primal are very different things. And we know that the rain itself doesn't cause such a reaction. So, therefore, it has to be something in us that's changed it, or something in our blood."

"That is a very long way to tell me you do not know," I said, smirking and flaring my spines.

Amaleen smirked right back at me. "You did ask for my theory."

"Indeed. Do you know how this...Primal...came to be trapped in those stones in the first place?"

Amaleen shook her head. "No, but as you can see, when it's introduced to a catalyst, it burns hot enough to melt stone. Our guess is that ages ago, when the world was filled with wild magic, now and then were instances of whole swaths of it burning off all at once, or exploding deep in the mountains. Perhaps even because of people attempting to control it or harness it. As some of the melted stone cooled it may have formed a sort of bubble. After all, sometimes we find lumps of stone that are hollow inside, or have crystals in them. I think it's something like that, only instead of trapping air, it trapped Primal."

I nodded as if I understood what the hell she was talking about. As good a theory as any, I supposed. "So it always follows your blood then. That's why Asgir put it in those lines he'd carved."

"Right. Essentially, the blood is a catalyst. Even a small amount of primal holds a tremendous amount of power. Unleash that power in a way that causes it to ignite, for lack of a better term, in the presence of other magic, and it will ignite all that magic as well. In this case, the magic's in the blood, and when it's running through lines in stone, the primal will burn through all the blood and grow hotter and hotter all the while until its burned itself out. The primal starts it, but it's like a wildfire. It will burn and burn until it runs out of fuel. Asgir likes to say that there's power in the lines. It's his belief that many of the sigils our people have began as ways for them to control the ancient magic. That with certain symbols they could guide the power and bend it to their well. Like a spell form. Asgir has been trying to learn to do that himself."

"So some of those misshapen sculptures are his attempts to harness this power?"

Amaleen scrunched her face. "Perhaps I could have phrased that better. I wouldn't say he's trying to harness power as much as he's trying to reconnect with our people's lost history. Though, I think the best he's managed is to teach himself a way to sculpt in a hurry."

"What about those dragon-carved stones? Asgir said some of this knowledge was first given to you by our people. And it does seem as though this area was once an important place for dragons, as well." I lifted one of my paws and peered at it as if imagining a line of blood running from it. "Do you think our blood would work the same way?"

"I've no idea, Valyrym," Amaleen said. "Perhaps if you drank as much undiluted rainwater as we did?"

Then another thought came to me, and I chuckled. "Do you suppose if Asgir cut himself deeply enough, and held onto one of those stones, he might explode? I think I should like to see that."

Amaleen blinked, and then burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Valyrym! You're terrible!"

"Yes," I smiled, quite proud of that fact. "I am."

"It's not always that dramatic," Amaleen giggled. "You can crack the stones, or drill them, and let the Primal seep out for a much less explosive effect. And that kind of explosive force really only comes from the purest of the ghost stones. When they're that pure, it's as if the stone itself is infused with crystallized Primal. That's why it began to crack as soon as his blood touched it. Asgir used the purest stone he could because he wanted to impress you."

"Ah," I murmured. "I was going to ask about that. Specifically, about my son. I saw your apprentice shatter a stone outside your house, and wispy silver swirls rose from it. But it was the dust from the broken stone he used, rather than the mist that was released. So the stones themselves hold power, too? Infused, as you say."

Amaleen nodded. "Yes. What you saw was a small bit of trapped primal being released. We've not yet discovered a way to harness that for healing purposes. But one of the things Asgir and Lenira discovered through their research was that some of our ancestors once used the powder of ground-up ghost stones as a key ingredient in some of their medicines and poultices. Through no small bit of experimentation, they discovered that if you dilute it heavily with rain water, and mix in a hint of our blood, you can create a very powerful poultice to use on deep wounds."

"So that was how it helped my son?"

"Correct. In the right proportions, which is about a ten to one ratio of water to blood, and the grindings of a single, relatively impure ghost stone, it will bind to wounds, help to hold them shut, and almost immediately ease the bleeding. It's as though it cauterizes the wound without actually burning it. Without it, I'm not sure we would have gotten Valar's bleeding under control in time to save his life."

"It sounds as though it suppresses the reaction just enough to seal the flesh without further injury." I took a breath, and gave a slow sigh. "Whatever the case is, I am very thankful it worked."

"As am I," Amaleen said, smiling. She rubbed my nose a little bit, then glanced down at her feet. "I just wish I could say it did more for repairing severed tendons."

I murmured a little, nuzzling her cheek with the end of my snout. "You did everything you could, Amaleen. And for that I will always be grateful."

Amaleen smiled at that, and stroked my muzzle. "Have I helped you understand at all?"

"A little bit," I replied, nuzzling her palm. "Perhaps it is best if I give up trying to figure out exactly how it works, and just be happy it does in fact, work. Given that I owe my son's life to it. "

"That might be best," Amaleen giggled. "Come on. There's one more thing I want to show you before the sun sets completely."

Amaleen took the lead and I followed her back through the forest. We moved through the narrow but lushly vegetated strip, and emerged back into the open area with all the strange boulders and sculptures. Amaleen lead me across the field, and I paid a little more attention to some of the stone structures now. Some of them must have been cut by Primal, others looked as though they'd been shaped entirely by hammer and chisel. A few even looked as though they'd had lines and shapes cut into them with both claws and great patience. It almost made me wish I had the patience to carve something so beautiful, and so lasting.

I followed Amaleen towards the far northern end of the field where I hadn't yet been. In that area there were still some trees that had never been removed. They were mostly towering pines and firs, wrapped in conical spires of dark green needles like thick armor. A scattering of pine cones coated the ground along with plenty of dry brown needles. They prickled at my paw pads now and then but did not really hurt. A lifetime of treading upon stone floors in caverns had toughened my pads enough that a few pine needles weren't going to bother me.

We eventually came to an area where a circle of truly ancient pines with trunks twisted by winds and weather stood sentinel around dozens and dozens of carved boulders. It was highly unlikely the boulders could have rolled down from the mountain without taking out the ancient trees in the process, so clearly someone had gone to great effort to move them here. More so, they seemed to be arranged in some sort of pattern, though I couldn't quite figure it out. Raised areas ran between each of the boulders. I brushed aside years worth of moss and pine needles over one of the ridges that ran along the earth and discovered a sort of miniature wall there made from an assortment of smaller stones. Such walls ran between each and every boulder.

"We call this place the library," Amaleen said, giggling. "It's sort of a joke," she added, running her hands across the pitted surface of a boulder marked with hundreds of sigils and letters.

I quickly glanced around, and realized that each boulder here was inscribed even more completely than those in the main field. Many of the sigils and letters were obscured now as the old gray and black stones were covered in an assortment of lichens and fungus. Yellow, green and orange splotches covered many areas of the boulders. Growths of flat, brown fungus were stacked atop each other in the shadowy alcoves around the base of the massive rocks. A few of the bigger stones even had tiny trees growing out of cracks where saplings had somehow managed to find purchase in a bit of soil.

"Looks like the library's been condemned," I muttered, using a term I'd picked up in Sigil Stones at some point.

Amaleen giggled. "It could use a bit of a cleaning up, at least." She walked from boulder to boulder, pointing a few things out. "But this place is like an archive of our people's old language. All our old sigils and letters and symbols are carved here somewhere. They were put here for posterity long before we ever had books to our name or anything."

I followed her around the boulders, inspecting what sigils I could see. As I passed them, I worked to uncover the lines of stone that ran between the larger rocks. "This whole thing is one big sigil, isn't it."

"Yes," Amaleen said with a little smile. "Asgir's father used to say that this was a spell form."

"Like something he'd carve into those rocks?"

"I guess so," Amaleen said, shrugging. "Something our people used to use to illustrate magic, or to try and control it when there was more of it to control. Honestly, I'm not sure Primal can really do anything other than help to expedite healing, and cut through stone. But ages ago, when there was more magic in the air that wasn't trapped in it's most primitive, volatile form, supposedly we could control it. We used sigils in the stone and carvings and lines like artwork to help control it. But, obviously, I've no way to tell if that's true or just a rumor."

"So that's what you brought me here to see?" I cocked my head, smiling. I rather liked sharing in her peoples history, simply because it clearly meant something to her.

"No," she said, coyly. "I want you to see this entire sigil. And I want to see it with you. Then I want to show you something else. But first, help me uncover all these little lines so we can really see it from the air."

Together, we cleaned up the clearing in a short period of time. The stones beneath all the forest debris were a bit stained with age and moldering leaves, but not so badly as to blend into the forest floor. According to Amaleen someone from her people cleaned this place up now and then, so it wasn't as though they'd been hidden away beneath rotting vegetation for generations or anything.

"Why doesn't Asgir clean this place up more often if it's important to your people?" I glanced over at Amaleen, sweeping aside forest debris with my tail. "Too busy picking the nits from his damn beard?"

Amaleen laughed and shook her head, tossing a clump of moss at me. "You're horrible."

When we had all the stone lines exposed, I let Amaleen climb onto my back. I leapt into the air, beat my wings a few times, and swiftly ascended. I spiraled higher and higher into the sky, until I was high enough to glimpse the entire massive sigil at its all. I realized immediately that the trees were actually part of it, they formed a second circle that was clearly a border to the rest of the image. It wasn't completely circular, either. Here and there it bulged out as though it were a wall being breached. A few trees were set further back as if to indicate they'd been forced apart from the rest of the circle.

In the center of the image, I realized that what I'd thought were just curved lines actually formed an inner circle. Boulders marked the circle in four places. More lines of stone and boulders that sat in the center of the inner circle formed a sort of four-pointed star. The lines themselves radiated out from the center to touch each of the four boulders that marked the northern, southern, western, and eastern most points.

At the center of the star shape lay the largest boulder. Longer lines radiated out in all directions from the star within the inner circle. Some of them were straight, and others formed curved arches, and all of them were marked here and there with more boulders. In four places, an arch met the outer circle of trees, and that was where the tree line bulged and broke. It looked as if the star in the center circle was radiating some kind of power that was breaking through the wall of pine.

"What does it mean?" I asked Amaleen as we circled it. It was certainly beautiful, but it was too painstakingly designed to be simple, abstract art.

Amaleen leaned forward and called her reply to me, stroking my neck. "It's one of our people's founding tenants!" She left me hanging a moment, and then answered my question more completely. "Freedom! It means freedom!"

Freedom. I liked the sound of that. After all freedom was one of a dragon's most important tenants as well. Without freedom, what were we? The same as we were without flight. A half dragon, at best. An animal trapped in a cage and on display. No better than some beast in a traveling circus, or worse. At least a true beast lacked the self-awareness to realize its plight. In my later days, in that dank hole, I would have no such lack of awareness.

I spun in the sky, looking down at the sigil. I followed its every line. If it meant something to Amaleen, then it meant something to me, and I wanted to remember it. I decided in the coming days I would practice carving that image in the dirt until I knew it by heart. When I was sure I had it memorized, I descended back to the earth again. I touched down on hind paws first, then dropped the rest of the way down and trotted to a stop before I let Amaleen off my back.

"It's a beautiful symbol with a beautiful meaning," I said, wondering why her people had chosen to put it here so long ago. Perhaps they'd first come here from another land, fleeing persecution. In such a wide open land as Aran'alia, why not celebrate their great freedom? "What else did you want to show me?"

"This!" Amaleen said, walking to the boulder in the very center. It was the largest boulder of all. Appropriately it held the greatest covering of carved sigils, letters and words. Amaleen pointed to a very large, very prominent sigil in the center of the northern side of it. "This symbol, right here?"

I padded after her, and examined the sigil she spoke of. It was a beautiful thing, all curved lines and grace bordered by a simple, four-cornered diamond. Inside the diamond there were six curved arches. They did not quite touch each other, but were placed in such a way as they almost seemed linked. It gave the appearance of a sort of elegant chain. It was a very striking image, and it looked unlike any others I had seen from her people.

I reached out, and ran my paw pad over the curved arches. "It's quite beautiful. What does it mean?"

Amaleen smiled at me, and reached out to place her hand on the back of my paw. "It indicates the one thing that can bind people even when they're not together. An unending bond that joins you with another whether you're at their side, or miles away." She slowly turned her eyes up to mine as she stroked my paw, then ran her hands up the scutes on my front leg. "It means love, Valyrym."

That made me smile. I lowered my head to nuzzle her, and she gently cupped my cheek in her hand. As I spoke, I pressed my nose gently to her face. "All those other sigils and words around it. Some of them are in your tongue, and I recognize the letters but not the words."

Amaleen smiled a little more. "They're names. People who love each other used to carve their names here, under the sigil. So that everyone who saw them would know those people managed to find love in their short lives."

That was a beautiful thought. "You do that back home, don't you. In Sigil Stones?"

Amaleen laughed a little. "Yes, we do. We carve a lot of things in the stones around our city. From the names of lovers, to emblems calling for peace, to sigils of spirituality and much more. There's a long ridge outside the city, where lovers now carve their names. But this..." She tapped the stone. "This is where it started. This is where we got the tradition."

"Then this is where I will carve our names first," I said softly. "And when we return I shall carve them along the ridge beyond your city."

I found a patch of stone that remained blank, and pressed my unsheathed claws to it. Slowly, I began to carve sigils into it. When Amaleen saw what I was carving, she gave a little gasp of surprise. Then she put her hand atop mine again, and left it there while I slowly carved her name just beneath mine. It was not the content of my carving that made her gasp, it was the way I had written it.

Valyrym.

Amaleen.

I had carved my own name in her tongue. Clear and legible in the common language of men, as I would do again upon the ridge near Sigil Stones. Anyone who saw the carvings would know my name. Yet that was exactly the point. Let all the world know that we had found the impossible. That despite all the hate her kind heaped on mine, and all the cruelties my kind poured upon hers, we had found love.

Let all the world know a dragon named Valyrym loved a human named Amaleen.

---

Chapter Nine

---

We stayed up in those mountains for a few more days. Those days were among the longest and most wonderfully carefree days of my entire life. During that time it seemed nothing else mattered in all the world but Amaleen and myself. I did all I could to savor each moment. I relished each little smile she gave me, each gentle touch of her hand upon my scales, each kiss of her lips upon my nose. When we slept I savored the sound of her breathing. I wanted those few short days to last forever, and though I knew they could not I did all that was in my power to ensure I enjoyed them as though they would be my last.

It was almost as if I already knew my time with Amaleen would be only another breath in the many moments of which my life had already passed me by. If my time with her was to be but a breath, I would hold it till my lungs burst.

Yet I had no way to know where my life would take me. No way to know that the day in which my freedom would be torn from me drew ever nearer. No way to know what path I was soon to take or where it would lead me. I knew only that I loved Amaleen and after all the time with Lenira I had squandered, I was determined to do whatever it took to avoid making the same mistake.

Aside from Amaleen, only one other thing could hold my attention in the ensuing days. That was Asgir's carving. I found the man's patience fascinating. For a few hours one afternoon, Amaleen and I lay together nearby as he finished carving the sculpture of the dragon's head. Even our voices and laughter did not seem to disturb his concentration. Each line he carved was measured and exact. Every chiseled flake of stone held little visible purpose or design upon its own, but when viewed in the greater context against all the other lines became part of a much greater whole. How he could put that all together in his head before he'd even picked up his chisel was beyond me.

He mentioned something to me about power in the lines, but I didn't know what he was babbling about. I assumed it had something to do with using the carvings to guide the primal magic unleashed from the ghost stones. Or, it might simply have been the ranting of an old man who wasn't quite as all together as he liked to think. Still, as the days went on I found the old man considerably less aggravating. Perhaps that was simply because Amaleen was able to translate his roundabout explanations for me. Or more likely, it was because Amaleen and I were happy together now. As long as she was there, how could I be anything but joyous?

Our happiness came through in his sculpture just as he'd wanted. Now that Amaleen and I were truly together, he could not have had a happier looking subject. With all the laughter she and I shared while we lay together near Asgir, he had plenty of inspiration to draw from. When his sculpture was nearly finished, I marveled at just how joyful it had come out. It was a light I had never quite seen myself in. Looking at that joyous, noble dragon's head, I could almost imagine what Amaleen now saw in me. It very nearly could have served as evidence to all the humans elsewhere in the world that dragons could be more than monsters.

When our time in the mountains was finally at an end, we took to the skies. In the end I followed the same route I'd taken to get there as I wasn't sure how well Amaleen would acclimate to the thinner air above the mountains. Fly high enough, I had found, and even a dragon would grow dizzy and light headed. I imagined a human would suffer the effects far earlier than a dragon. It wasn't so bad though, it allowed us to stop once more at that little stream-side village with the houses built from stone and carved into the cliffs.

This time I found the children's desires to climb all over me far less insufferable. I allowed them to climb up on my back and play upon my tail, and did my best to tolerate them while Amaleen and I ate lunch. I had to admit, this little village roasted an awfully delicious mountain goat. By the time we were done with our meal I must have had at least a dozen different children clambering all over me.

Oh, get mounted, Alia. I am not a softie. Well...perhaps I was for a little while.

Amaleen returned to my back and I returned to the sky. By the time we'd left the mountains it was perhaps the middle of the afternoon. I could not stop myself from smiling. Not only was I sharing flight with the woman I loved, but I was going to get to see my son again today. I had come to miss Valar while I was away from him. I hoped he'd a good time with Kylaryn. Though I doubt she took him out on the town, I imagined she had found some way to keep him occupied.

I felt a little guilty when I thought of Kylaryn. She didn't know about Amaleen and I. She hadn't been around while things had been developing between us. Still, we had hardly been the closest of mates for a while now. I hoped that the news would not upset her too greatly. She was still Valar's mother and I wanted very much for them to remain a big part of each other's lives. Perhaps Kylaryn and Amaleen could even become friends. It would not be difficult for Amaleen, but Kylaryn was a different story. Still, I could hope. If any human could befriend Kylaryn, it was certainly Amaleen. She seemed to have a way of both consistently surprisingly someone and earning their affections.

Rather like you, Alia. It must be a trait of your people. You seem to have a way of getting under a dragon's scales and twining your fingers around his heart. To say nothing of consistently surprising him in more and more wonderful ways. What? Being mushy? That sounds like a sort of cheese. Oh, Val Junior said it? Well you can tell Val Junior I most certainly am not being mushy. And if he needs me to prove it, I am happy to bite one of your limbs off. Go on, Alia, hold out you arm. No? I shall return to my tale, then.

I decided the sooner I told Kylaryn about Amaleen and I, the better. Probably this evening, if I could get her alone for a little while. Perhaps she'd be willing to fly outside the town with me, and I could speak to her amongst the hills. The sprawl of emerald grasses and spires of gray stone always seemed to put me at ease, and I thought it might do the same for her. Either that, or the isolation would give her a chance to sink her teeth into me over Valar's injuries.

Regardless of what might happen with Kylaryn, I was looking forward to seeing Valar again. I couldn't wait to scoop him up in my paws and clutch him to myself. I would tell him of the beautiful waterfall I saw and the strange magic and all the boulders carved into odd shapes. I'd tell him Amaleen and I went swimming in a beautiful river though I'd leave out what else we did in the waters. No doubt Valar would start asking me if I caught any fish in the river. He did so love his fish. I hoped Kylaryn had gotten him enough fish to keep him satisfied, she was never as good at fishing as I was.

"Val," Amaleen hissed my name in a taut voice that instantly drew me from my reverie. "Look!"

I glanced at her to see where she was pointing, and followed her finger towards the horizon. In the distance, there was smoke rising. For a second, my heart froze. I thought Sigil Stones was burning. But the smoke was beyond Sigil Stones, towards the east. Towards my road. There were a few other small villages in that direction as well, and I was yet too far away to see just what was burning. Perhaps a simple grass fire started by some careless traveler's campfire.

I shifted my wings slightly, felt the air currents dance against my sensitive membranes. Then I beat my wings harder and accelerated through the air. In the distance, something was rising and falling through the smoke. For a moment, I could not process what it was. A burst of orange-red light beyond the dark cloud flared up for a few moments, and vanished again. Then there was more smoke, dark and oily. It was the sort of smoke that came from burning flesh. Another flash of orange light flared to life through the dark veil, and I realized what it was.

It was a dragon, swooping down through the veils of shadowy haze and unleashing fire against the earth and anyone upon it.

"Spirits be damned," I hissed aloud. "What damn fool lizard is that?"

Amaleen clung tighter to my neck as I tightened up my wings, and dropped swiftly towards the ground. I landed atop a small hill, and quickly trotted to a stop. Then I dropped to my belly, glancing back at Amaleen. "Off! And stay here!"

Amaleen was no warrior. She was a healer, and these days, a leader to her people. But I doubted she'd ever picked up a weapon in her life. Even if she had, she had none with her now, and no armor to protect herself. And I was not about to take chances with another dragon who might well attack me on site. I wanted her to stay here, where she'd be safe. I had to find out what was happening, and if necessary, put an end to it. She cast me an unsure glance, but she knew as well as I that if I had to fight another dragon, I could not do so and protect her at the same time.

Amaleen slid off my back, and quickly moved to hug my muzzle against her. She pressed her lips to my snout, and then moved aside so I could take off again. "Come back to me in one piece!"

"I shall do everything in my power!" I called out to her, and leapt off the hill.

I beat my wings swiftly, picking up as much speed as I could. In a matter of heartbeats I was hurtling over the grassy rises at nearly wing-snapping speed. Trees and hills whipped past beneath me in a single green blur as flew towards the dragon I was sure was making a mess of things. Probably some damn upstart who had taken advantage of my absence to try and conquer my road or rob travelers. Whatever the case, the oily nature of the smoke told my his fire had ignited flesh already, and more than a little bit of it. If he was killing people from Sigil Stones I was going to tear his damn fire glands out.

Soon I was near enough the scene of the battle to make out a few more details. It looked like several wagons and carriages were already on fire, strewn about the road. A few more similar conveyances were not yet on fire. Here and there I could vaguely make out the forms of people running around the hills on either side of my road, though I was still too far away to really pick out the details. The dragon continued to rise and fall, and pivot sharply in the skies. There was too much smoke for me to easily determine any details of the dragon. Though, when he whirled around at high attitude, I saw a flash of dark, forest green when a wing beat sent tendrils of smoke whirling all in directions.

It was Korvarak.

"Taath!" I hissed to myself. It was a word in my tongue I was glad Amaleen was not around to learn, as it was horrendously dirty curse word.

What the hell was Korvarak doing here? He rarely came this far from his mountain home anymore. Whatever the reason, it meant two things. One, the humans he was fighting were not from Sigil Stones or anywhere else in this part of Aran'alia. Korvarak defended this land just like I did, and no one who lived here would ever seek to attack him. Two, I was bound by duty to Aran'alia and friendship to Korvarak to join the fray and defend him and this land with every ounce of strength I had.

I flew closer to the earth as I neared the battle. Soon I was low enough that the grass nearly tickled my belly scales as I swept over the top of a small rounded hill. Just ahead of me I saw a group of men taking cover behind a stand of brush, popping up as a group to fire arrows at Korvarak as he dove. Even from here I could see my poor friend was peppered with the things, his green scales streaked here and there with blood. I knew enough about getting hit with arrows to know that for every one that found a way to penetrate his scales, at least a half dozen more had been deflected. This fight had been going on for a long time, and I wondered if Korvarak had gotten himself in over his head. There looked to be dozens of men remaining, and there were probably dozens that Korvarak had already slain.

It was time for me to even the odds.

By the time the group of archers behind the bushes realized there was a second dragon joining the fray, they were already on fire. I sprayed a line of flames across the whole group of them, and then beat my wings to swoop up over all the men who were swiftly becoming their own funeral pyres. Screaming, they all ran in different directions like embers scattered upon the winds before they eventually collapsed against the grassy earth. Until today I had not used my fire in a while, and I had eaten well which meant I had a plentiful supply of the natural chemicals that created our dragon flame. I would use it till the battle was over, or I was out of fire.

Amongst the chaos, the screams of the men had not truly stood out. I would have to change that. Much as I would have enjoyed getting to surprise another group of them, I wanted to draw their attention away from Korvarak. I dropped to the ground, and much as I'd once charged full tilt into Kylaryn, I now sprinted straight towards my road with all my flight momentum intact.

A group of more heavily armored soldiers were taking cover behind what looked like some kind of armored transport wagon. I slammed my entire bodyweight up against the side of the wagon across from the soldiers. Pain ricocheted through me, but it was the wagon that broke, not my body. The armored side cracked and splintered as the whole wagon tipped over. With a tremendous CRASH the heavy transport wagon rolled over atop the cluster of soldiers on the far side of it. Most of them were crushed to death immediately, the rest of them were left screaming beneath the rubble.

As if that had not done enough to announce my arrival, I let out a tremendous roar loud enough to rattle the windows in the carriages that yet remained intact. The sound was as much to let Korvarak know I was here and boost his morale as it was to demoralize the humans. At that moment an odd thought occurred to me. I hoped that it was the humans who started this fight with Korvarak. He had never struck me as the impetuous type, yet he'd certainly had his share of village-raiding days. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility for him to try and steal a carriage, only to find it was filled with soldiers who decided to defend themselves. Still, whoever had started this battle was now irrelevant. Korvarak was my friend, and I was going to help him fight.

Korvarak answered my roar with one of his own that sounded distinctly relieved and thankful. Poor bastard probably wondered where the hell I'd been. After all unless he stopped in Sigil Stones first he would have had no idea I wasn't around. He was just lucky I returned when I did.

I took a moment to gaze around the area. Suddenly none of my questions mattered anymore. Painted on the sides of the intact wagons was a symbol I now recognized. A silver keep with many towers, painted upon a blue background. The same image that marked the flag I'd claimed during my revenge. The symbol of the men who tried to murder my son. Korvarak, whether he knew it or not, had been striking down my enemies. Valar's bloodied form, and cries of pain flashed fresh in my mind. I had no peace with these men, and I would have no mercy for them.

I had succeeded in drawing the attention of the remaining men. No sooner had I spotted that image after roaring then several of the soldiers were charging at me from different directions. These men were more heavily armored than the last of their kin I had faced. One man ran towards my side with an ax he intended to bury in my ribs, while another soldier ran up behind me with a pike. I did not want to think where he might be intending to stick that. Swiftly as I could, I twisted towards the man with the axe. As I spun, my tail hurtled through the air. My tail spines caught the pike-bearer in his head, face and neck. His helmet proved little impediment to a shattered skull, and the force of my tail strike damn near took his head clean off and sent the rest his body tumbling across the ground.

The other human swung his axe at my snout as I turned to face him. I pulled my head back and the crescent shaped blade missed splitting my nose in half by mere inches. At this point adrenaline was pouring through my body, my powerful heart thudding swiftly and heavily in my chest. Close as my teeth already were to him when his axe swung past my muzzle, he wasn't going to get another chance. I snapped my jaws down against his arm, just below where the sleeves of his chain mail ended. My teeth slid through soft flesh and crunched through hard bone with equal ease. The man screamed as I jerked my head back and forth and tore his arm from its moorings. With a snarl of distaste I spat the severed limb upon the ground even as his blood sprayed across my snout in a crimson fountain.

More humans were approaching me now, more cautiously than the others. I kept myself moving. One thing I had learned from battling humans now and then over the years was it was never wise to stand still. If they would not come to me, I would go to them. Or better yet, I'd send something else to them so they couldn't stick me with their many sharp implements when I got too close.

The one-armed man dropped to his knees and I snatched him up in my fore paws. Rising upon my haunches a moment, I pivoted and hurled him straight at his companions. He arched through the air and before they had time to get out of the way he collided with the legs of the first man and rolled right through them. That man toppled over with a pained cry and soon so did his friends like the pins in some perverse children's game.

As the men writhed in a tangle of limbs and armor, I ran towards them. For a moment I considered wading into the pile and tearing them all apart, but decided against it. Exposing my underbelly to them in such a way while they were all still alive would be like trying to slay a venomous viper by picking it up in my paws and twisting it around the middle for a while. Effective but in the process I was likely to be bitten. Instead, I took a deep breath. As I trotted a circle around the group, I exhaled forcefully, constricting my fire glands, blasting fire against struggling the heap of soldiers

The men all screamed in wretched agony as they burned. Perhaps I should have felt more pity for them. Yet they had come to this land of their own volition. They had picked a fight with a dragon, and now they suffered the consequences. Though I had already slain the men who tried to murder Valar, they all seemed the same to me right now. They were all monsters in my eyes. They would murder a hatchling, they would steal another's homeland, they would destroy an entire clan of dragons and now...now they would burn.

Arrows suddenly plunked against my side. Several of them bounced from my scales, but one caught me just right, sinking in between my ribs. I roared in pain, and felt hot blood trickling down my scales. I turned towards the direction the arrows had come from, and saw a group of archers sheltering inside a carriage, firing through the windows. While the archers drew another volley of arrows, I leapt to the air. I quickly swooped out of the line of fire, and dropped back to the earth just in front of the carriage. Whatever horses had pulled it were long gone, and I grabbed at the base of the carriage with my front paws. I sunk my claws into the wood for purchase, rising to my hind legs and heaving upwards as hard as I could. The carriage was larger than the one I'd once carried home, but not so heavy that I couldn't upend it.

I gave a final snarl of effort, and men screamed inside the carriage as I flipped it over onto its back. Before the heavy thudding crash had even finished ringing out, I was upon it. Instantly I was tearing out the floorboards and ripping it apart. The carriage began to collapse under my weight upon the men inside. As they screamed, I tore an axel completely free, and hurled the thing at a large man coming my way with a war hammer in his grasp. The axel caught him in the chest, collapsing the metal plates of his armor into his sternum. It knocked him backwards, and he rolled about on the ground for a moment, clutching his chest and wheezing for breath that would not come.

As part of the carriage cracked and splinted, another man fired an arrow at me through a hole I'd torn in the bottom. It went wildly astray, after all I wasn't foolish enough to stick my head inside. I responded by jumping a little, crumpling the carriage even further upon its occupants. One of them tried to crawl out through a shattered window, and I quickly flicked my tail at him, a spine imploding the back of his skull. I heard moans and cries from inside the carriage, and determined they were no longer a threat. Just in case, I hit what was left of the carriage with a spray of fire, and left the flames to consume the wounded men inside.

I quickly surveyed the area, and saw no more men attempting to rush me or shoot me. There were at least half a dozen armored troop transport wagons, several of which Korvarak had set on fire while the men were still inside. Smart dragon, I thought. There were also a few more official looking carriages including the one I'd just destroyed. Several of those were burning as well, charred corpses were draped from a few windows as they'd burned to death while trying to escape the flames. Bodies both rent and burned lay all around the road and into the hills. By now, the only people I saw still alive were running through the hills, retreating.

Korvarak was still in the air, circling the road. I called out to him, and pointed to a group of men running through the tall grass. Korvarak made a few passes, swooping down and lashing out at them with paws and tail alike. I imagined he had probably used up all his fire for the moment. I wondered why he didn't land to engage them, and realized he held one of his front paws up against his body. Blood ran from it, dribbling down his leg and dripping to the grass below, speckling both green scales and foliage with crimson. He'd not be able to fight as effectively upon his feet now. Thankfully, the fight was nearly over from what I could tell.

My ribs throbbed where I'd taken the arrow. I glanced back at myself. The shaft of the arrow jutted a good few inches from my rib cage. It had buried itself fairly deeply though it hadn't hit anything vital. Red fletches marked the end of it just as red blood now marked my scales. I turned a few circles upon my paws a few times, unable to spot any more soldiers still alive.

"Korvarak!" I called out to my friend. "Amaleen's over on that hill!" I pointed with a wing towards the hill in question, making sure to speak the draconic tongue so anyone still alive would not understand me.

"Who?" Korvarak called back, circling in the skies above.

Ah. Right. Korvarak probably hadn't even met her before. "A friend! Make sure she's safe! I'll take care of anyone else here."

Korvarak gave an affirmative roar, and swooped low over me. Poor dragon looked like shit. Arrows marked his belly and his sides, and his front paw was still dribbling a lot of blood. Hopefully he wouldn't lose the function of it. At least Amaleen would be able to treat his wounds swiftly. Once we were done here, I would make sure Korvarak returned with us to Sigil Stones for immediate treatment.

As Korvarak swooped off to check on Amaleen, I searched for any sign of survivors. As I roamed the area a little I found that I felt a little light headed. It had been a while since I'd engaged in such an intense battle. Come to think of it, I felt very light headed. A little nauseous too. Perhaps I'd over extended myself. And spirits, but my ribs throbbed. The only survivors I could find were terrified horses and other beasts of burden that had been pulling the various conveyances. Some of them had broken free, others had been inadvertently slain, and yet more were still bound to their yokes and harnesses.

I guessed that between the two of us, Korvarak and I had killed perhaps fifty of them. A rather impressive number. I would have to tell Korvarak I was proud of his effort. I hoped he was not as badly wounded as I feared. And yet I was disconcerted, why had they sent fifty soldiers along my road? That was enough well trained men to do any number of things I did not want to think about. Thankfully, there had been dragons here to stop them. But it was still the highest number of men like that I had seen along my road or anywhere else. Somehow, I suspected Amaleen would know why they were here. It was time to ask her to tell me everything.

I turned back towards Amaleen, in the distant hills. Korvarak circled her and waved back to me. It seemed he couldn't find any other threats. That was good. I'd just fly back over and meet her then. Yet as I prepared to leap into the skies, my stomach heaved a little. Perhaps I'd better just walk. I took a few more steps, and realized I was going to vomit. Dragons only rarely grew sick enough to find themselves unexpectedly vomiting. Yet the sensation was clear and urgent, and I stumbled to the side of the road before I heaved up my guts. My heaves were very intense, violent and even painful. I left my lunch splattered in the grass, and stumbled away from it. Suddenly my vision began to spin a little.

I flopped down on my haunches, groaning. Surely I hadn't exerted myself that badly. And I'd barely even been wounded, only a single arrow. I'd taken worse than that many times before. I turned my head and peered at the arrow. The red fletches looked to be wavering like crimson fronds in the wind. How odd. I heard wing beats and glanced up. Korvarak circled above me, looking for a good place to touch down on three paws. He had quite a few arrows peppering his hide. Lots of yellow and white fletches marked him here and there.

Strange. In an oddly disconnected way, I realized his arrows were colored differently than mine. That wasn't fair. I wanted yellow arrows, too. This red one made me feel funny. I gazed around the area I'd been standing when the arrow hit me. I saw a few other red-fletched arrows scattered upon the ground, but all the other arrows I saw anywhere else had yellow or white fletching. As it was as if only the arrows inside that one carriage had red fletches. How funny.

"Red fletch carriage," I muttered to myself. My stomach twisted again, my head began to hurt. "Why only there?" I said aloud as if I expected an answer. There were several intact carriages that the archers could have taken cover in. If they'd spread out they could have fired arrows at us from all directions. But why had they all gone into the same carriage?

In the back of my mind, where my thoughts were somewhat still clear and rational, the answer was simple. Because that was the carriage where they kept the poisoned arrows. The red fletches marked which arrows were kept coated with poison to ensure no one accidentally touched the wrong part of them. Whether the poison was specific to dragons I had no idea. After all I'd never been poisoned before.

"Never been poisoned," I muttered, feeling as though I was somehow both maddeningly drunk and ferociously hung-over at the same time.

Korvarak alighted nearby, limping towards me on three paws. "Thank the Gods you showed up, Valyrym," he said, smiling a little. "I was a little afraid I was actually going to have to retreat. Feel like I've got a hundred damn arrows in me." He paused, peering at me. "Are you...alright?"

As if in reply, I suddenly vomited again. Korvarak danced out of the way just in time. I had little left to give to the earth but yellowish bile, and now it was tinted slightly with trickles of red blood. Korvarak gasped when he saw it, and called out my name. I barely heard him over the sudden pounding of my head. My vision was getting increasingly blurry, yet growing dimmer at the same time.

"Valyrym!" Korvarak called out again. "What's wrong?"

In the back of my head, I knew what was wrong. But I no longer had the verbal ability to tell him as much. I stumbled away from him, and flopped down upon my belly, panting heavily. Pain was now radiating from my side and through the rest of my body as the poison from the arrow spread.

I managed to spit out only a few words before darkness claimed me, but I made them as clear as I could. "Go...get...Amaleen!"

---

Chapter Ten

---

Somewhere, through the silence and blackness that held my mind, I heard her calling my name. Her voice was distant, and garbled as though she were somehow yelling through water. But I knew she was calling for me. Calling for me to stay with her. She did not want me to leave her, not now. Not ever. I did not want to leave her, either.

I struggled for that voice. I clung to it like a drowning ant to a leaf in the rain, pulled along wherever the voice I clutched would take me. I followed it through the darkness, dragged myself along that voice like a lifeline and pulled myself back from the abyss. I did not want to die, because I did not want to miss my time with Amaleen. I did not want to die because I wanted to see Valar grow up. I did not want to die because I knew my homeland was going to be at war, and I had to be there to protect it and protect my son and the woman I loved. I could not die because I was loved and I gave love and I had people to protect.

I did not want to die because Valar and Amaleen needed me.

I roused to half consciousness. I felt hands on my jaws, holding my mouth open. I tried to open my eyes but could not hold them open for more than seconds. Images flashed through my mind, burned into my memory like vivid portraits. Amaleen, her eyes wild and terrified looking down at me. Korvarak pulling my jaws open, injured paw and all. Arrows jutted from his green scaled hide, forgotten for the moment. They both looked so scared. I did not want them to be scared.

Each image was wrapped in darkness, memories book-ended by dreamless unconsciousness in which my only desire was to wake once more. To give into that darkness was to die, and only my will to see my son grow up and my love grow old kept me alive. Through it all, Amaleen's voice was my guiding light. Any time I was conscious enough to hear her voice I followed it. Her voice was the flame and I was the moth, only rather than burn me the fire would save my life.

Something was in my mouth. It tasted bitter, wretched. I tried to spit it out, and it was shoved down my throat. I almost bit that hand, but my jaws were held open. Somewhere, in my poison-shrouded mind, I knew I should not bite that hand. I knew I should swallow the bitter mess of herbs pressed into my throat. Someone stroked my throat, and eventually coaxed me to swallow it. Again and again, bitterness filled my mouth. Sometimes I gagged on it, other times I swallowed it. Sometimes it was not bitterness in my mouth but pain across my body. Something sharp jabbed at me now and again, and I lacked the strength to pull away. When I faded deeper into darkness, I no longer felt the pain. It was but a brief respite.

When I woke to half consciousness everything hurt. My stomach ached as though I'd had my belly stomped in. My head throbbed as if my skull was slowly collapsing in on my brain. My lungs burned, protesting against each breath of air. They did not want to breathe anymore. Even my heart hurt. Each beat felt like a knife in my chest. It did not wish to beat any longer. And yet I willed it to continue.

Whenever I was even the least bit conscious, I fixed an image in my mind of Valar and Amaleen. Valar was healed and Amaleen was playing with him in the rain. Valar liked the rain. Amaleen liked the rain. I liked the rain. I did not want to die. I wanted to play in the rain with Amaleen and Valar.

I liked the rain. Amaleen. Valar. Rain.

I kept that image in my mind whenever I heard her voice. It became like a dream to me. Amaleen in her favorite dress. White with a blue flower. She held Valar in her arms and she danced and danced across the vibrant green hills and Valar squealed his delight. I heard Amaleen crying against me. I felt her tears run down the scales of my face and I could not reply. In my half conscious state, with my mind's eye fixed on those I loved, it began to rain. The silver rain poured and poured and poured and not a drop touched Amaleen or Valar. They were pure and safe and alive and I wanted to live too.

What thoughts I did have barely made any sense, but I knew in my own way I barely clung to life by a thread. A thread that Amaleen had provided me. She had saved my son's life, and now she had saved mine as well.

It was morning by the time I woke. Whether it was the next morning or morning a week later I did not know. But the sun was only just creeping above the horizon. My body ached everywhere, and what faint light there was hurt my eyes. Somewhat to my surprise, I knew immediately where I was, and what had happened. Perhaps it was because I had spent most of the time forcefully clinging to thoughts of Amaleen and Valar. I had very nearly died, and I knew it.

All the long life I had ahead of me had almost been cut short by a single arrow, shot by a single man, coated in a singular poison. Amaleen had only just come to love me and I had almost been taken from her forever. It was a painful revelation for me. It was the first time I realized that there was no guarantee that I would outlive Amaleen. There was every chance in the world that she might well outlive me.

Such was the way I truly realized my own mortality.

Without lifting my head, I saw that Amaleen had fetched the red book of poetry she'd brought me. It looked as though perhaps she'd been writing in it. I felt her warmth against me, and realized she lay in the crook of my front leg, against my body. She was fast asleep. I flicked my eyes around, and saw Korvarak asleep nearby. The arrows were gone from him and his paw was bandaged. Other bandages stuck to him here and there where his arrow wounds were. In the distance I saw other people milling about, tending a fire. Korvarak must have gone and gotten more people to come and help.

I didn't have to lift my head to see the book laying in the dirt ahead of me. I wondered if Amaleen had left it open on purpose or if she'd simply dozed off. It was open to a section very near the front, where she had been working on a new poem lately. So far she refused to let me read it. She told me not until it was done. So I had planned to read it to Valar when we were home.

Gods. Valar. He had almost lost me. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself to hold my emotions in check even as my throat tightened. Only two people in this world loved me, and they had both very nearly lost me in one fell blow. Whatever that poison was, it was potent, and I had the unpleasant feeling it had been brought in that carriage with dragons in mind. Korvarak was lucky they hadn't gotten to it earlier. They probably didn't have much of it if it was a rare and expensive toxin to produce.

I took a deep breath and let it out as slowly as I could. I did not want to wake Amaleen. I saw some of the men tending the fire in the distance were soldiers, bearing blue and black colors, and the golden insignia of Sigil Stones. The harsh reality facing Aran'alia was coming together in my head now. Amaleen had been hiding some of it from me. I think she wanted to keep me out of it for my own good. I had enough to worry about without knowing that the humans of my homeland were going to war.

I fixed my eyes on the book. Her poem looked finished.

Eyes of Gold,

Flickering sunfire gaze,

I shine brighter in golden mirror.

When lost in brilliant depth,

My pain always fades.

The beast long since

Transformed to beauty,

Cruelty to kindness.

I rejoice endlessly,

With golden light upon me.

The sun in his eyes always shines.

My world is always brighter,

When his sun shines upon me.

I was stunned. I read through it a few more times to be sure. Amaleen had written a poem about my eyes, and how much better it made her world simply to have me look upon her. The tears I tried to fight back came at last. I did what I could to cry in happy silence. I felt myself rejoicing inside to know that somehow, I gave her the same joy that she gave me. The thought lifted my heart for a few moments.

Though I tried to cry quietly, my sobs nonetheless woke Amaleen. She lifted her head, and her blue eyes shone when she saw me awake and alert. She gasped and flung herself against my head, hugging me fiercely against her body as she began to cry as well.

"Oh, Gods Val," she cried out against me, her fingers digging into my scales. "Oh, thank the Gods! I was so worried!" She pressed her face to mine, her tears hot as they ran down my scales. "I was so scared. I thought I'd lost you, I really thought I'd lost you."

"Your voice," I managed to croak. My throat was parched, and clenched with emotion. "I felt myself falling, but I followed your voice through the darkness."

Amaleen had saved my life in more ways than one.

"Oh, Gods, Val," she said again, crying into my snout. "I was so scared. I love you, Valyrym, I love you!"

"I love you too, Amaleen," I said, forcing more strength into my voice.

"Don't ever scare me like that," she said, as if I had a choice. "Please, don't ever leave me!"

"I won't, Amaleen, I promise," I murmured back to her. How could I have known?

For a time, we just embraced, and cried. When our tears had ended, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I needed water. But I needed information, too. I weakly gestured with a paw at the burnt out shells of carriages and the charred bodies of men no one had bothered to remove from the street. "Tell me, Amaleen. Tell me what's been troubling you. Tell me what's going on."

Amaleen nodded, wiping her eyes. She fetched me some water, and as I drank, Amaleen did her best to explain to me the plight of Aran'alia. It began years ago. As she spoke, I remembered that when I first brought Valar to see her, she'd angrily asked me if I'd come to demand my share of her town's wealth, and minerals. At the time I simply thought she was insulting me. Now, looking back, I realized there was far more to it than that. That must have been when it started.

Amaleen told me of an encroaching realm that sought Aran'alia's minerals, their ores, and most of all, they sought their land. Attempts to purchase it had failed. Though they continued to negotiate, to act as though they wished peace with Aran'alia, more and more men massed every day upon their borders. I had glimpsed their camps from a distance, before Valar was wounded. I thought them new cities being built, but in fact they were armies arriving and making themselves at home.

If Aran'alia could not be bought, it would be taken.

Amaleen had done all she could to forestall that. All she could to prevent a war that would tear her home apart, and take the lives of countless people. She and her people had spent years trying to find a peaceful solution that did not abdicate they lose their homes. And now, the truth of her enemies intent lay in ruins all around us.

I knew that intent well. Much as it now pained me to admit it, taking things by force was a tactic I was quite familiar with. I doubted these men had ever truly desired peace. They wanted this land, and they had come to claim it.

Amaleen could not make it all the way through her tale before the pain of it took hold of her heart. Breaking into wracking sobs, she collapsed on the ground, curled in front of me. Her home was going to war. We both knew it was a war they might not be able to win. Seeing her in such pain broke my heart. I wished, so badly, that I could make this all go away. That I could ease her pain and protect her from ever feeling it again.

I could not do that. But I could at least comfort her in her darkest hour, as she always done for me. I reached out with my front legs, and ever so gently drew her against me. I pulled her to my body and Amaleen buried her face in the plates on my chest. I had cried to her so often in our short time together, and now it was her turn to cry against my scales. It was my turn to comfort Amaleen when she needed me most.

"It's alright," I murmured, nuzzling at her cheek. I gently rubbed her back up and down as she poured her tears against my scales. "It promise you, it will be alright."

How could I know?

"It will be alright, Amaleen," I whispered to her again.

Once, Amaleen had held my head in her lap, and let me cry to her when Valar lay so close to death. Now, I held her against myself and let her cry to me. Slowly, I curled around the woman I loved, cradling her within my wings. With her face against my scales, and my head tucked down against her, we shared our own hidden world beneath my wings.

As I held her tightly, murmuring my love to her, I wished I had a song to sing for Amaleen the way she had sung to me. It hurt me in a way to know that dragons had no such songs. Yet I knew I had something else to offer her. Something more lasting. I would shield her from the world beyond for as long as she needed. I would bear upon my back every burden she ever had. I would face down her demons when she could not find the strength.

For Amaleen, I would rise with the sun. I would shine my light upon her world to banish her darkness no matter how deep her night.

I knew then what I would do for Amaleen, and for the people of Aran'alia. This was my land to protect. My home. My people. My_family_.

For the land I had always called home, I would extend my claws. For the dragons I called my kin I would bare my fangs. For my son, who had become my world, I would roar my flames to the heavens. And for the woman I loved...

For Amaleen, The Dread Sky would go to war with a kingdom called Illandra.