FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Chapter One

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The setting sun bathed the dragon's lands in brilliant orange fire. Galvarys relished the beautiful view as he soared above sun-painted pine forest towards the heart of the sunset itself. The further the sun sank, the deeper its radiance grew until it transmuted distant mountain and sprawling forests alike into gold. The last streamers of sunlight also cast the dragon in dazzling golden hues. Galvarys preferred his natural indigo scales, a majestic color suitable for a great dragon such as himself. The black markings across his wings and the ebony stripes across his limbs only added to his regal bearing. He was a magnificent creature. No wonder the Five Villages all gave him such lovely tributes.

The Five Villages spread throughout Galvarys' lands offered the dragon gifts in exchange for peace, though that was not always the case. For years they sent men to take his life and his home, and for years Galvarys slew them to the last man. These were his lands. These were the lands of dragons and all the dragon slayers in the world could not wrest them from his claws. Yet as Galvarys aged, he grew weary of warring with men and fighting for his life. Though they could not slay him, the blood the dragon slayers drew and the pain they caused gave him reason to reconsider his life.

In the end, the dragon forged a truce with the villages. He allowed them to dwell peacefully upon his lands in return for gifts and an end to people sticking sharp things in him. Accepting tribute and truce was not as fun as wreaking havoc and burning the countryside, but these days the dragon preferred to keep his blood inside his body. Perhaps that meant he was getting old.

The truce brought about an amicable relationship. The Five Villages no longer sent men to try and kill the dragon and he no longer burned things down. In fact, he actively protected his land from bandits and beast alike. Galvarys could not have them harassing the merchants. More merchants meant more coin flowing into the village and that meant superior tributes to add to his collection.

Over the years Galvarys had gathered quite the collection. If he could get his paws upon it, he collected it. Though not everything he collected was especially valuable, over the years he'd amassed an assortment of treasure he was quite proud of. As he imagined any dragons would be. After all great collection of treasure brought with it status and status brought power. Power brought memory, and Galvarys refused to be forgotten.

Too many other dragons were mourned only by the wind, their lost names a whispered sorrow in the last breath of dying elders. More and more the world seemed to belong to men now, but these lands and the villages built upon them belonged to Galvarys. It was here that Galvarys intended to build a legend so grand he would never be forgotten like the others. The world would never forget his name.

Galvarys the Magnificently Blue.

...He'd work on that.

The dragon pushed the thoughts aside, wondering instead what manner of tribute awaited him. Galvarys kept his forelegs tucked against his body, tapping a few claw tips against his chest plates. The Five Villages he ruled each left him a variety of gifts at different times of the year. Some months it was as simple and satisfying as golden coins and jeweled chalices. Other months it may be art, or even food and drink. Perhaps the sunset was a sign that today's tribute would be coin again. It had been sometime since he'd gotten coin.

For a time, the dragon savored the simple joys of flight and the beauty of the sun-bathed land. Warm summer winds tickled the vast, sensitive membranes of his wings. The world's breath washed across every scale, caressing and calming him. The breeze held the warm scent of the late summertime forest, laced with a hint of sweet rain carried from some distant place. To the west the ocean of emerald forest rose and fell with the gentle, frozen undulations of the ancient earth. Behind the dragon towered rugged mountains with jagged spires and claws of gray stone ever scratching at the sky. Everything was cast in fading golden light as the drowsy sun at last began to vanish beneath the forested horizon.

By the time Galvarys descended, the sunset was replaced by a creeping purple gloam blanketing the land. Darkness was fine with Galvarys as it better cloaked him against the sky. Truce or not, when the dragon flew near human villages he preferred to be silhouetted against stars than bright blue sky. He never knew when some self-proclaimed hero with a bow might try and take pot shots at his underbelly. Better to fly at night or stay well out of reach.

The dragon folded his black-marked wings, flicked his flight membranes across his eyes and began to dive. As he picked up speed the wind that poured over him grew from a gentle caress to an exhilarating rush that left him tingling beneath his scales. The dragon's powerful heart thundered in his chest as he hurtled towards the earth. The echoing pulse of blood pounded in the minor heart near his tail. There was a thrill in diving, just as there was a thrill in hunting and in battle. Fold his wings too tightly, or open them a moment too late and Galvarys would end himself against the earth.

Not that Galvarys was anything but determined to continue drawing breath as long as possible. Dragons had long natural life spans and Galvarys had no intention of letting anyone shorten it. A short-lived dragon could not find his way into legend. When Galvarys grew too old to defend himself from heroes and dragon slayers he would take to the skies one last time. He'd savor his final flight, then fold his wings and never again open them. One final dive seemed a fitting end for a decrepit old dragon. It was better than a slow death, bleeding and broken, in helpless agony as the humans swarmed around him. A better death than most dragons received.

Before the pine boughs drew to close, the dragon began to unfurl his wings. Pulling out of a steep dive safely was a tricky prospect for a creature as heavy as a dragon. Throw his wings open all at once and he'd tear every tendon and muscle along his back. Galvarys eased his wings open bit by bit till it was safe to fully extend them.

Galvarys leveled off just above the canopy. Then he beat his wings a few times, ascending a little higher. The forest here was mostly pine, fir, and spruce. The last thing he needed was for an errant wing beat to catch the tree tops and fill his membranes with pine needles. Actually, the last thing the dragon needed was to catch the top of a pine tree between the hind legs. Again. A dragon could hardly find his way into legend if he went around injuring himself upon trees.

Ahead of the dragon loomed the barren, gray and green expanse Galvarys named Tribute Hill. The hill was an oddity. It was a rocky, windswept rise in the midst of a meadow beyond the forest's edge. Lush emerald moss covered many of the granite outcrops and boulders marking the tall hill. Galvarys made the humans deliver their gifts there because it provided no shelter for anyone to wait in ambush.

The top of Tribute Hill was crowned with a lichen-covered boulder and a tall, wooden pole which bore the dragon's banner. The banner itself was a black flag with the silhouette of a dragon's horned head in striking blue. Silver eyes inside the silhouette symbolized the dragon's watchful gaze. More banners marked each of The Five Villages and the roads linking them. The humans claimed the banners warned a dragon protected the land. The dragon himself thought them marks of ownership. As far as Galvarys was concerned, the banners meant hands off his treasure.

Atop the flat summit of the hill, the dragon's banner snapped in the wind. In the twilight the flag looked several shades of purple rather than black and blue. The dragon circled the hill, looking for any signs of his tribute. Dismay settled into his belly, cold and tight. The hill looked empty. There were no chests of coins, no carts of cakes and glazed meats. Galvarys snarled. If they'd forgotten his tribute day, something was going to get burned down. White cloth fluttered near the banner pole. Had they brought him nothing more than some kind of silk? When the cloth moved, the dragon realized it wrapped a person hunkered down behind the boulder.

Anger heated the dragon's heart. Some thief sought to lay claim to his tribute. The dragon flared the spines around his head, circling the hill again. Galvarys took a breath and gave a tremendous roar. Stones rattled upon the hill. The dragon squeezed the fire glands at the base of his jaws. Galvarys spat roiling flame that illuminated the rocky hill with dancing red-orange light. Heat from his fire washed over the dragon's scales. The thief shrieked behind the boulder. The dragon smirked, a few fangs glistening in the first slivers of moonlight.

"Yes, Thief, scream!" The dragon beat his wings, circling again. "You will return my tribute at once! Then I shall..." Actually, he'd best not tell the thief of his impending incineration. "...Let you live."

Just where had the thief spirited his treasure away to anyway? He'd better not be in league with the gryphons that occasionally plagued the edges of his lands. Thieving cat-birds might have already carried his tribute away.

"Ham's a poor tribute!" The thief's half-muffled voice oozed terror and sounded distinctly female.

"Of course ham is a poor tribute." The dragon's snarled words echoed beyond the hill. "What are you babbling about?" Ham might be a miserable tribute, but he'd be doubly angry if this thief girl had already eaten it.

The dragon swept in over the hill to land. He touched down upon his hind feet first, trotted to a stop and folded his wings. Moss-covered stones rolled and slipped beneath Galvarys' paws. Tiny mossy tendrils tickled his sensitive pads. The granite boulder nearby was large enough for a human to completely vanish behind. Emerald moss wreathed the bottom of it, while layers of yellow lichen softened its pitted, gray surface.

"Come out immediately, Thief." The dragon growled, anger tingling at the base of his spiny frills. He lashed his tail. The curved black spines that tipped it caught the earth and tossed broken gray rocks in the air. "Where is my tribute? Where is my...ham?"

The woman emerged from behind the rock, every movement cautious. Even in the darkness her face looked as pale as any human the dragon had seen. Her scrawny body trembled. Wind-knotted hair the color of dark honey framed cheeks wet with still-fresh tears. She bore little more than a simple white dress that billowed around her in the wind, outlining curves even a dragon could tell she was still growing into.

"Where's my ham?" The dragon asked again, flicking his tail. "Tell me what you've done with my tribute, and I shall let you live."

The girl bit her lip. She took a tiny step towards the dragon, holding out trembling hands. "There's...no ham, Dragon..."

"So you've eaten it already?"

"No." The girl wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. Light brown hair whipped about her head. "I said I am your tribute. I had my face buried in my arms. I thought...you were going..." The girl stepped back towards the boulder, tensed to flee. "With your fire!"

Galvarys padded towards her, hissing through his teeth. He flared his spines. "You're my tribute?" The dragon made a show of looking her up and down. Then he snorted at her, hot breath washing across her face. "I was expecting gold, or treasure. You are neither." The dragon stretched his neck to sniff at her and hissed again. "The _ham_would have made better tribute." Then he blinked, pulling his wedge-shaped head back. "Wait. Do they expect me to eat you?"

The girl gasped and fled behind her boulder. With an irritated grunt, Galvarys followed her around the massive stone. She scrambled around it, staying on the opposite side of the lichen-mottled boulder. Galvarys walked around the rock again only for the girl to once more dart around the other side of it. Hissing, the dragon curled himself around the boulder. His spined tail barred her path, his teeth flashed in the other direction. The girl squeaked and flattened herself against the rock.

"Stop that!" Galvarys snapped his jaws. The girl froze, unable even to draw breath. Pleased as he was to terrify humans, the girl could hardly answer his questions if she dropped dead of fright. "I'm not going to eat you, Girl."

The dragon pulled himself away from the boulder. As soon as the way was clear the girl dashed around to put it between herself and the dragon once more. "You...you won't?"

"Certainly not." The dragon tossed his head. "Humans are either too greasy, or too stringy. You'd fall on the stringy side given you look as though you're in desperate need of sustenance yourself. I'm beginning to feel quite insulted to have been sent only a malnourished meal."

"N-No," the girl said, her voice trembling as much as her body. "I'm not malnourished. Wait. That's not... what I mean."

Galvarys sighed, licking his nose. This was getting less anger-inducing and more pathetic by the moment. He waved a paw in the air, black claws half unsheathed. "Just tell me why they made you my tribute."

"Oh!" The girl caught on. She shifted a little, grasping at the snow-colored fabric of her dress. She wrapped it around herself. "We...my village. We're...well, there's no treasure for you this time. And...our crops are a little slow to come in this year..."

"Why a girl?" The dragon snapped his jaws. "I need not hear The Tale Of Pathetic Village."

"We heard male dragons in other lands demand maidens!" The girl shrieked her answer, vanishing behind the boulder again.

"Maidens?" Galvarys cocked his head in confusion. He lifted a forepaw, rubbing his head behind one of his spiraled black horns. "Sounds like a slanderous rumor. Why would a male dragon wish a maiden?"

The girl peeked out at him, her eyes wide. "For a companion."

"Companion?" The indigo dragon lifted his spines, flaring his black-mottled wings. Galvarys lowered his eye ridges. "Are you suggesting I suffer from some sort of loneliness?"

"And as servants!" The girl rose up a little further from behind the boulder.

Galvarys did not mind that she'd deflected his question because the idea of his own servant was an interesting concept. Surely a servant was a status symbol befitting an unforgettable legend. The dragon had little time to contemplate it before the girl blurted something else out.

"And as L...Lov...to shareabedwith."

The girl's words came out all jumbled together, but the dragon caught their meaning just the same. "Share a bed?" He lifted his eyes ridges, chuckling and perking his frilled ears. "As in mate with you?" The dragon tossed his black-horned head, drumming his claw tips against the stony ground. "I think not, Girl."

The girl slowly emerged from behind the lichen-shrouded boulder once again. "But, I thought..."

"What manner of creature does your village take me for?" Galvarys glared at her, narrowing eyes as silver as the moon itself. "I am not about to mount some human girl."

"So you don't like human girls?" The girl's face scrunched. She seemed as confused by the rejection as the dragon was by the contortions of her face.

"I like them just fine when they're offering me adoring tribute. But I'm not interested in trying to mount them." Galvarys tossed his head with a scoffing snort. "I'd not even fit in a human female!" The dragon curled his neck into an S. "And regardless of species, I have no interest in females still growing into their own bodies. You don't even look old enough to know what to do."

"I was told dragons liked virgins," the girl said, her voice a dismayed mutter.

"Dragons like no such thing!" The dragon hissed, flaring one of his wings. He snorted and scratched his neck with a wing-tip talon. "Who told you that?"

"Well..." The girl trailed off. "Our village..."

"Not your village, girl." The dragon sharpened his tone, baring his fangs. "Who told you that dragons wanted virgins?"

"The...The mayor." The girl kneaded her white dress in her hands, shuffling her shoes against the stony ground.

"Did he." Galvarys growled low. Each village presented tribute at different times, so he knew just which mayor she meant. A pompous little pig in human clothes named Varm. "I find it disturbing your mayor makes such assumptions about dragons. If a female dragon as young as you started rubbing herself against me, I would swat her on her haunches and send her home to her family. And hope they taught her not to go around lifting her tail for strange males."

The girl pulled her hands into her sleeves. "So, you don't want a human maiden as your tribute."

"No," the dragon said. Galvarys stretched his neck till the fine scales around his nostrils brushed the white fabric of her dress, inspecting her scent. The girl smelt of sour terror covered masked by honeyed perfume and flowers. He pulled his head back and snorted to clear the cloying aromas from his nose. "Besides that, you reek of fear. That is not an attractive quality among dragons." He licked his blue nose a few times, trying to wash away the lingering scent. "But the other idea you mentioned. What would a servant do for me?"

"Whatever you wish, I am sure." The girl swallowed hard, wringing her hands again even as she kept them tucked in her white sleeves.

Whatever he wished? Galvarys liked the sound of that. The idea set gears to turning in the dragon's mind. Beyond the simple satisfaction of having someone to order around, Galvarys liked the idea of the villages knowing he had a servant. After all, surely great rulers all around the world had an entire legion of servants at their disposal. If kings and emperors had servants, then the dragon wanted one for himself.

"These servants..." The dragon waved a few half-unsheathed claws in the air. "Would a grand king have maidens serving him? Are they a symbol of status among your people?"

The girl scrunched her nose, honey-brown hair billowing around her head. "I think so. Our mayor has maidens. He's from the capital, originally. Oh!" The girl pursed her lips as she recalled something else. "When nobles from the capital visit the mayor, they bring their servants. My father curses them when he thinks no one's listening."

"Very well." If maiden servants were a status symbol among powerful humans, Galvarys wanted his own. A servant would make an excellent addition to his collection. "I shall accept tribute of a maiden servant. But I require an adult female, with courage enough to serve a dragon. I don't want her terror stinking up my home." Galvarys lifted a paw and pointed towards the horizon. "Go home, Girl. Have another sent."

"I can't!" The girl blurted out, balling up her fists at her sides. She sniffed. "They'll think I ran away from you! The mayor will have my father banished, he said I had to..."

"Alright, alright!" The dragon lifted a blue paw, holding his mottled gray paw pads out towards her. "Your terrified prattling is hurting my ears." He pinned his frilled indigo ears back against his head. "I'll take you home myself."

At least her home was not far. This month the tribute due was from the Village Of Rings, the closest village to tribute hill. Like all the Five Villages he'd given it his own name. The humans called it something else, but Galvarys did not care. The dragon could hardly be expected to keep track of the names they gave their collection of sticks and rocks and muddy lanes.

Without any further warning Galvarys leapt into the air. In one smooth motion he propelled himself skyward with his powerful hind legs, while snatching her girl up in his forelegs. He hoisted her off her feet and tucked her against his plated chest. The dragon beat his black-marked indigo wings, ascending. The girl immediately gave a scream so shrill and loud it left his ears ringing.

"Balls, Girl!" The dragon snapped his jaws, swiveling his ears back and forth in a futile attempt to ease the ringing. "If you scream any higher, my skull will explode!"

The girl's only answer was a terrified whimper as the treetops whizzed by beneath her feet. One of her simple leather shoes fell off, toppling through the canopy. She clung to the dragon's front legs, threatening the circulation to his forepaws. The shaking of her body grew so intense that even the dragon began to feel sorry for her. For a moment.

"Stop your whimpering." The dragon glanced down at her. "I promise I won't drop you. You're safe, alright?"

The girl turned her frightened eyes up to the dragon. Galvarys could nearly see the cloud of fear boiling inside them. "Nrrrhhmm!"

"Don't worry," the dragon said, winging his way towards the village. "I haven't killed a human in years."

"Aaaah!" The girl wrapped her arms around him even tighter, kicking her legs in the air. Her other shoe dropped away into the forest. She started panting again. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing for the dragon to tell her.

"Just don't piss yourself while I'm holding you," the dragon said. He pinned his spines back in distaste. Galvarys glanced down at her again. "I promise you, you're safe. Tonight you may sleep in your own hovel again."

It was not long before the Village of Rings came into view on the horizon. Though night's dark blanket lay across the land, the dragon's silver eyes were sharp even in the darkness. Where surely humans saw only gloom and shadow in the midst of night, the dragon saw a world cast in midnight blue and silver-gray. The infinite arrow points of the stars alone gave him more than enough light to see the world below. To a dragon's eyes, the glow of distant lanterns and torches cast an orange radiance that lit the horizon with wavering fire.

Galvarys called the place the Village of Rings because the entire town was designed around a series of circular roads. Each road was lined with houses and taverns and smithies and whatever else villages may have. At night the glow of street lamps and lanterns spilled across the time-smoothed cobblestone of the main roads. From air, the city streets looked like larger and larger rings of flickering molten gold.

The dragon's destination laid at the very center those rings. The largest of several city plazas was there, and in the middle of that plaza was the residence of the mayor himself. Whenever Galvarys paid the Village Of Rings a visit, he alighted just outside the mayor's home. In the years since he'd first struck the truce, the crowds that came to see the dragon grew ever-larger. Whether adoring or terrified, he enjoyed the attention.

By the time the dragon was circling the village, the girl had relaxed a little bit. The dragon glanced down at her. "Cover your ears, Girl. And consider yourself lucky I'm giving you a chance to save your hearing. More than you gave me."

The girl hesitated to release the dragon's forelegs from her grip. To assure her she was safe, the dragon clutched her to the heavy blue plates that protected his heart and lungs. As he shifted around her, Galvarys noticed she seemed even lighter and more delicate than most humans. When she was convinced she wouldn't fall, she clapped her hands over her ears. The dragon took a deep breath and roared his summons.

The dragon's roar echoed across the village. Galvarys smiled when someone screamed. Guards ran to the central plaza to join those already assembling. Someone else called for calm. One man even called for ale to placate the dragon's anger. Galvarys liked that idea. The terrified bleating of distant livestock made the dragon hungry. The scene was basically the same anytime Galvarys came to a human village. There was a little terror, a little chaos, and a whole lot of kowtowing to his wishes.

Just the way the dragon liked it.

As the descended in a tight spiral, he surveyed his chosen landing spot. The mayor's house was a large wooden building with elegantly arched beams and pointed eaves. Atop it fluttered the banners of the village and that of the dragon. The house dwarfed most of the other simple wooden structures in the village. Galvarys thought the building would make a delightful bonfire. An expansive garden surrounded it with lines of bushes covered in purple flowers, and clusters of red and yellow blossoms. The garden's soft dirt made a perfect landing spot.

Galvarys back winged a few times before he touched down on his hind paws. The dragon clutched the girl to himself with one forepaw, dropping the other to the dirt. Then he eased his cargo to the ground. The moment her bare feet touched earth she bolted away from the dragon. The dragon turned his wedge-shaped head, tracking her before she vanished into the growing crowd.

"You're welcome," the dragon said, snorting..

Galvarys turned his attention to the assembled group of guards. Men clad in padded leather armor lined with bronze studs formed a wall in front of the crowd. They all carried simple spears with sharp iron points, and swords strapped at their waists. Some of the men also had axes across their backs or crossbows over a shoulder. A few more guards with longbows had taken up position all around the mayor's house in case the dragon became violent.

"Yes, yes," Galvarys said, waving his paw. "You're all very intimidating." He snorted, looking the guards over. "Where's your mayor?"

"He's on his way, dragon." One of the braver guards spoke up.

"Off in some brothel no doubt." The dragon growled. For a few moments he drummed unsheathed claw tips against the dirt. Someone in the crowd coughed. The dragon flicked a claw through the stem of a flower and sent the red blossom tumbling through the air. Galvarys turned his head, glaring at an archer crouched down in a shadowy alcove. The dragon hated getting stuck with arrows even more than he hated being kept waiting. "You put an arrow in me, and I'm going to see how far I can throw you."

"Ah, Dragon!" Mayor Varm called out as he emerged through the guards. The mayor was a round little man with a belly constantly straining the buttons of the extravagant vests he wore. Today the vest was gold and the strained buttons ivory. The man had a reddish brown moustache so bushy the dragon wondered how he could push words past it, let alone food. "How blessed we are to be in your magnificent presence once again."

Galvarys growled at the man, stalking towards him across the garden. Galvarys was not in the mood for the mayor's usual attempts at flattery. The man's pandering tugged at Galvarys' spines, irritating him every time. Galvarys' tail lashed as he strode forward, tail-spines scything down bushes and flowers alike.

"Shut your hairy mouth, you stubby little worm." In the torchlight the dragon saw the color draining from the mayor's face. "If you really felt blessed to have me protecting your village you'd give me a tribute more befitting of my greatness."

The Mayor didn't seem to know what the dragon meant. "Did you not get your tribute today?" Varm stepped forward, holding his grubby hands out. "We sent a lovely maiden to be your companion. Was she not pleasing to you?"

The dragon glared down at the fat little man calling himself mayor. Galvarys snarled and sent the mayor stumbling back a few steps towards his guards. None of them made any move to get closer to the dragon. The dragon followed the mayor out of the garden and onto the cobblestone plaza. Bits of leaf and petal clung to his tail, then fluttered through the air when he lashed it. Anger boiled the dragon's blood till he expected to see steam rising from his body.

"Listen here, you fat little pervert." Galvarys flared his spiny, membranous frills to their full extent all around his head. "Not only do I have no interest whatsoever in some half-grown human virgin, but neither should anyone else. That terrified wisp you sent me is far too young to be mounted. The fact you think I'd want her makes me wonder just what it is you think dragons desire." Galvarys paced back and forth, leaving dirty paw prints on the plaza. The dragon's silver eyes nearly burned holes through the mayor's golden vest straight to the twisted heart that lay beneath. "For that matter, I wonder what sort of females you pursue. Your village no doubt wonders the same."

"We meant no insult, Great Dragon..."

"Shut up." The dragon ignored the mayor's stammering as he searching the crowd. When Galvarys spotted the young girl clinging to her father, he gestured at them with a paw. "I do not expect to see that girl again unless she's waving at me from an adoring crowd. And if I find she's been punished?" The dragon unsheathed his black claws, scratching marks in the dirty cobblestone. "I shall burn your house down." Galvarys gazed over the silent crowd a moment. "With you in it."

"I...but...I..." The mayor could not find words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Galvarys wondered if his ugly red-brown mustache was suffocating him.

Galvarys licked his nose, grinning. "However, as I am told maiden servants are a symbol of high status, I have decided owning one is befitting of a legend such as myself." Then he narrowed his shining silver eyes, growling through his fangs. "But not a damn virgin."

"So...dragons..." The mayor wrung his hands, gulping. "Prefer a woman with experience."

Galvarys grit his teeth. "If by woman you mean female dragon, then yes, we'd prefer one who knows how to share pleasure. Not that it applies now."

"So perhaps a whore for your tribute?"

"What?" Galvarys blinked, pulling his head back. He snarled. "Are you even listening?"

The mayor stuttered. Galvarys decided he'd have enough of him for now. He strode towards the man, lifted a paw and shoved him aside. The mayor yelped as he toppled to the ground, rolling across the plaza. Ivory buttons popped and bounced away. Scattered laughter broke the silence of the crowd, even as some of the guards hefted their spears. Galvarys ignored them. Instead, he lifted his head, gazing upon the crowd gathered beyond the line of armored men.

"Since your mayor can't seem to think beyond mating, I shall address this to the rest of you!" The dragon lifted his brassy voice so everyone in the crowd could hear him. "I demand a servant, an adult female with the courage to serve a dragon." Galvarys paused to lick his nose. "Unless someone wishes to step forward, I shall grant you time to fulfill my request. The girl told me the nobles possess maiden servants of high status. That sounds quite fitting for a dragon, perhaps you should look there. In the meantime, I expect a replacement gift by tomorrow night. As you are out of treasure, I shall require a ham."

Nervous laughter broke out amongst the crowd. Galvarys snorted. "It is not a joke. The girl gave me a taste for it. In fact, I shall require a number of hams. Smoked, and with that sweet glaze I like." Galvarys rumbled, growing hungry. He licked his muzzle again. "The same as you included the last time you brought me cooked foods."

While the crowd murmured and turned eyes upon one of the local butchers, the dragon turned his attention to the girl clinging to her father. Her father clung to her just as tightly. Galvarys doubted the man parted with her willingly. Her father looked up, staring back at the dragon for a moment as he stroked his daughter's honey-brown hair. If the dragon didn't know better, he could have sworn her old man was staring at him with some kind of deep gratitude.

"You stay safe, Girl. Alright?" The girl pulled her face from her father's chest, glanced at the dragon, and gave a single nod. "Good."

With that, Galvarys launched himself back into the air. The wind pouring off his wings buffeted the people beneath him. Shredded flowers and leaves whirled in the air. In the span of a few breaths, the dragon put the Village Of Rings behind himself. He hadn't gotten his tribute yet, but he'd done a good deed. Even a dragon could do at least one good deed in their life, right? Right. That meant he didn't have to do any more. Good. He hated good deeds.

While he might not have gotten his tribute, he would soon have his own servant. That sounded fun. Why hadn't he thought to demand a servant before? As he winged his way home, the dragon wondered what sort of woman they'd send. What manner of human female was both courageous and not a virgin? Perhaps some warrior maiden who slew monsters and then bedded men in celebration. No, he didn't like the sound of that. Especially not the part about slaying monsters. Whoever she was, she'd be a mystery until Galvarys set eyes upon her. That was alright, being mysterious would make his new servant more intriguing. At least, he hoped she'd be intriguing. He didn't want to be burdened with a boring servant.

Damn. He should have added intriguing to his list of demands.

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Chapter Two

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Elyra stood in the cramped servant corridor, her mouth frozen around a bite of stolen food. For long moments she simply stood there, scarcely able to believe the words that filtered through that crack in the wall. Usually the conversations of nobility held little interest for her, aside from discerning how best to avoid being dragged unwillingly into their beds again. Yet tonight their conversation gave her hope. Tonight they spoke of a way out of this wretched place.

Tonight the nobles spoke of a dragon.

Elyra first heard mention of the dragon as she slunk through one of many cramped, narrow servant corridors that wound through unknown recesses of the Hall Of Nobility. They ran between walls, connecting all the major rooms while bypassing the public hallways. Hidden doors and recessed alcoves allowed the servants a chance to enter a room, do their job, and then vanish before their presence offended the nobility. The servant corridors themselves were little more than bare stone, lit by the occasional lamp or candle. In the summer they were stifling and in the winter they were freezing. They were unpleasant, damp and stinking of mold.

Yet to Elyra they were also an escape and a rebellion. The nobles couldn't strike her across the face or toss her into their beds when they could not find her. They had no way to know she was the one stealing food when all the evidence vanished into dank hallways they'd never set foot in. They couldn't see her grinning through the crack in the wall when the herbs she slipped into their soup sent them rushing for the latrine. Most of them didn't even realize how easy it was for their own servants to spy on them.

Dust motes danced in a stream of warm light pouring into the cold hallway from a crack in the wall. Elyra slunk towards the crack, swallowing her mouthful of food. The rest of the stolen handful of roasted lamb was all but forgotten. She pressed her gray eyes against the hole in the wall, trying to get a look into the room that lay beyond.

The cozy room was lined with burled walnut bookshelves filled with books Elyra knew the nobles would never actually bother reading. As inbred as some of the nobles probably were she wasn't convinced they even knew how to read in the first place. Beautiful tapestries of colorful landscapes brought back from some other conquered land hung between the shelves. A hearth built of interlocking blocks of white and black stone held a warm fire at the far end of the room. Two men sat around a circular, ebony table.

Elyra recognized Atrius immediately. She'd know the heavyset man's bald pate and porcine features even when she was too far away to catch wind of his stink. The oversized noble's tacky clothing was also a dead giveaway. His garish, golden overcoat spoke of a man who only bothered to dress himself to show everyone just how wealthy he really was. The man sitting across from him was as wiry as Atrius was bulbous. His ridiculous ruffled blue shirt and bulging eyes made him look like a scrawny pigeon ruffling up his feathers.

"I'm telling you, it's the village's fault." The pigeon man leaned back in his high-backed, blue-cushioned chair. Seemed even he was trying to stay clear of Atrius' stench. It baffled Elyra how the more money the nobles had, the less they bothered to bathe themselves. "Damn dragon hadn't bothered our interests in ages till they went and mucked it up."

Atrius folded his stubby arms over his chest, his golden overcoat straining at the seams. "All because they wanted to save a few coins, eh?"

"Seems that way." The skinny man picked up a snifter off the table, swirling his liquor in it. "Tried to send him some worthless girl. Damn beast didn't want her after she pissed herself."

"I wouldn't want a girl who pisses herself, either." Atrius chuckled. He picked up his goblet, sipped at his wine.

"That's not the point," said the pigeon man. He ran a hand over the ruffles of his shirt, scowling. "My association has a good thing going with those trade corridors, and your villages are mucking it up. They didn't even have to give the dragon much. Dumb beast was as happy with food and the local sludge they call wine as he was with gold. Hell, half the so-called treasure they dumped on that hill over the years is worthless! Now he's got it in his head he deserves himself a maiden, and he's threatening to close the roads until he's given one he considers agreeable."

"Why don't you just hire some men to slay the damn thing?" Atrius sipped his wine, then set his goblet down. "Some ugly dragon's head would look good on your wall." He glanced up at his shelves, grinning. "Or mine."

Elyra chewed upon the rest of her stolen lamb while she listened. Trust a noble to decide if they didn't like the way things were going they could just throw money at someone else to fix the problem. Besides, weren't dragons always issuing demands for maidens and treasure? Not that she'd ever seen one.

"It's not that easy," replied Pigeon Man. He swirled his drink again. His scowl only made his eyes bulge further. Elyra half expected them to topple out of his head and into his drink. "Our predecessors tried to slay the monster for years and never managed it. Besides, if the dragon dies, then who's going to watch over our trade shipments? I'm telling you, we had the stupid thing wrapped around our fingers. Slip him a few coins, and he keeps the bandits and the other filthy monsters away from the roads we send our merchants on. He costs us less on a yearly basis than hiring actual guards."

"I still don't see how this is my problem." Atrius huffed to himself, gazing around the room as if bored by the entire conversation. "They're your villages and your little...association, after all."

"Don't get smart with me, Atrius." The skinny man set his drink down on the table, leaning forward. Something dangerous gleamed in his dark, bulging eyes. "It's your problem because if you don't solve it, my association shall go directly to the Royalty and tell them how badly your people are botching everything out here."

"Fine, fine," Atrius snapped, folding his arms. Elyra knew that anger. Given the chance he'd take it out on some poor servant. "So he wants a maiden, does he?"

"Yes." The pigeon man ran his hand over his the blue ruffles of his shirt again. "A maiden servant of high status, as I was told. And not a virgin, either."

Atrius quirked a brow, smirking. "Specified that, did he?"

"Your idiot mayor sent him a virgin, and the dragon took it as an insult." The slender man waved his hand. "It's what started this whole mess."

"Sounds like even a dragon knows a virgin's no good at pleasing a man." Atrius drummed his fingers against his goblet.

"From what I've heard, the dragon claims he isn't interested in her services of pleasure." The slender man picked up his drink again, sipping it.

"If that was true, he wouldn't care if she was a virgin or not." Atrius snorted, rolling his eyes. "No matter. I'll have someone selected. We have plenty of useless servant wenches around here. One of those ought to placate the horny old beast."

"That was the idea." Pigeon Man snorted, slowly leaning back into his chair. He smirked. "They'd certainly not be a virgin. The dragon also demanded a woman of courage. Have you got a courageous wench lying around?"

Atrius waved his hand. "They're servant wenches. They all do whatever they're told. They'll act brave if I order it. More importantly, no one will miss them when the dragon gets bored and devours them."

Elyra grit her teeth, balling up her fists. How she hated that man and his ilk. They treated her and everyone like her as less than human. Some slave barely even worth being looked upon, and only worthy of being acknowledged when they were being punished and belittled, or used like some whore because no decent woman would have anything to do with the filthy nobles. The next time that foul-smelling man made her touch him, it would take all she had not to twist it right off.

Whoever they sent to would be better off being eaten by the dragon than spending another day here.

In the moment, Elyra saw her way out.

One way or another, the nobles would send a woman to the dragon even if they had to force her. Elyra knew some of the servant wenches would fight, others would simply resign themselves with a sigh and give into their fate. Some would beg and plead not to be fed to the monster. Most of the women stuck serving in this place had long since given in already. They had come to accept the abuse, the humiliation, the fact that there was no better life to be had for women like them.

They were punished for the crimes of family, the sins of ancestors, or their own youthful indiscretions. Elyra brushed her fingers over the branded mark on her cheek, as damning as the fiery red hair she'd inherited from her mother. The nobles' servant wenches were all marked and servitude was a lifelong punishment that the vast majority of them simply accepted. It was easier that way, a little less painful when you simply gave in and stopped striving for something better.

Yet Elyra was not most servants. Where they had given up hope, she sunk her nails in and clung to it for dear life. Where others bowed their heads and whispered their acquiescence to any demand, Elyra bit back insults only because they would cost her life. Where the other marked servants stood silently and let the nobles put their hands all over them, Elyra fought the urge to lift their feet from the floor with her knee. Elyra always knew that one day, her rebelliousness and her refusal to let hope bleed from her heart would get her killed.

Now was as good a time as any.

If she was to die, let her die breathing free air.

In that moment Elyra decided to cast aside a life spent as a noble's puppet. It was time seize control of her own life. The dragon wanted a servant, and she was going to give him one. Elyra would volunteer to be the dragon's maiden. Though it may lead to her death, a freely chosen demise at the claws of a dragon was better than even one more humiliating day as some noble's plaything.

Resolute and as sure of herself as she'd ever been, Elyra turned and made her way through the hidden halls and back to the servant's quarters. As she walked the cramped corridors, she turned the idea over in her mind as though it were some physical thing to be manipulated. The dragon wanted an experienced woman, and the nobles never let her become anything but. The beast wanted a woman with courage, and what was more courageous than volunteering to the dragon's service? Perhaps he'd even be impressed. Might the dragon even grow to respect her? Respect from a dragon was too much to hope for. Yet it was hope that kept Elyra's heart beating. So she would hope for the creature's respect.

Elyra was happy enough just to make her own choice, to guide her own life. Whatever the dragon wanted of her, whatever he made her do, surely it could not be worse than what she endured here. Even if the beast did have perversity in mind, what difference did that make? She was already forced to tend the needs of an entire Hall filled with wicked creatures in the guise of men. Having to tend just one would be an improvement all by itself.

Whatever wicked thing this dragon was, it could not be worse than the nobles who had put her here in her youth. Perhaps if she satisfied the dragon properly, she could even talk the beast into flying her back here so she could watch him burn the Hall Of Nobility down. Preferably with the nobles still in it. Of course she'd have to find a way to let all the servants out first, but so long as she was dreaming, why not dream big?

Before Elyra reached the servant's quarters, she wondered if she should tell anyone her idea. Should she tell them goodbye? Perhaps she should wait until she'd made it official. Elyra was certain they'd accept her as volunteer. It wasn't as though any of the other servants were likely to offer themselves instead. Most of them would be terrified by the idea of serving a dragon, and Elyra herself was not without a bit of a fear. Yet her desire to escape this prison of humiliation was far greater than any amount of fear.

This was a chance she had to take. If she did not volunteer, every single time some wretched noble pushed her down upon her knees, she would wonder what might have been. Eventually she'd be put to death for mangling some noble with her teeth. She wished she could say such a death would make her a hero to the other servant wenches, but most of them had given in so deeply to their humiliating lives they'd only think her a fool.

Better they think her a fool for serving a dragon, then.

A single small wooden door lead into her section of the servant's quarters. It was marked only with a single carving, a sort of stylized, spiraling star. The same symbol had marked her right cheek for years. In years long past, the mark symbolized ownership among Elyra's own people. The nobles had taken and bastardized that mark, used it for their servants. It marked the doors to their quarters, to their hallways, and for those like Elyra, it marked their flesh.

Elyra opened the door and entered into the quarters she shared with a dozen other women. The room was long and rectangular, with twelve beds all evenly spaced along one wall. Each bed marked another woman's chambers, such as they were. A simple, thick curtain drawn between each bed provided all the privacy the servant wenches had. Each woman had a small dresser for clothes, a little table and a chair, and whatever personal effects they might have. And that was it.

At the end of the room were a few small windows that let in a bit of light but provided view of little more than soot-caked chimneys and smoke from cooking fires in the kitchens below. The room smelled of a mixture of perfumes, stale food, and the clinging unpleasantness of too many people crammed into small a space. Hints of spicy incense used to cover the smells were just beginning to tint the air for the evening

An attached room had a large book shelf with a few books whose pages scarcely clung to their threadbare covers. There were several couches in various states of disrepair. One of them spilled a little more of its padded entrails onto the floor by the day. Another room bore a latrine, along with six public bathing tubs, pumps to draw water from a deep well, and a few small iron furnaces to heat that water.

Elyra's bed was near the far end of the room. Elyra was mostly ignored by the other women in the room as she padded by them. She did not dislike the others but most were so resigned to their hollow lives she simply could not connect with them. Talking to them was like talking to an empty shell. Some of them tried to stay away from Elyra, fearful her little rebellions would somehow get the rest of them punished. Elyra pitied them emptiness she saw in their eyes. Without hope, they had nothing, and they drifted through their humiliating lives as shadows seeking only to avoid pain before the end. Even if Elyra offered them a chance to take her place in volunteering for the dragon, she knew they'd never take it.

Elyra greeted those few she might consider a friend. One woman sat upon her bed, reading an old book Elyra knew she'd read at least a half dozen times before. She glanced up from her book to give Elyra a polite wave. Elyra smiled and inclined her head. Another woman squeezed up against man upon her narrow bed. They smiled and whispered to one another, and they both waved at Elyra. Elyra smiled and waved back. Of all the other servant wenches, Elyra liked Jadira the best.

Just like Elyra, Jadira never quite gave up hope. Better still, Jadira somehow found love in this terrible place when she met a conscript named Dahn. Dahn bore the same spiral-star brand on his cheek as the women did. Those with the brand were little more than slaves forced to do any task the nobles set them to. For the women that meant servants duties and whores for the nobles. The men among the punished were conscripted to serve as soldiers, or guards. They rarely had time to themselves, so Jadira and her conscript lover made the most of every little moment they shared. Most men would not be with a woman used as a noble's whore, but Dahn did not care. Dahn loved Jadira just the same, and since he bore a mark himself, he understood.

Elyra envied their love more than she cared to admit.

Elyra reached her small, narrow bed and sat down upon the edge of it. Her woolen blanket was dyed dark green, and bore more patches than original material. It was scratchy against bare skin, but at least it was warm. Both pillow and mattress were filled with straw that poked her from time to time when she shifted on the bed. Still, it gave her somewhere to collapse at night.

It made her wonder, though. Where would she sleep when she served the dragon? The beast probably lived in a cave, yet she doubted he had himself a bed. Not that she'd want to sleep next to him. Maybe the dragon just slept on the stone floor or on a pile of gold. Perhaps she should bring a bedroll or something. But where would she get a bedroll? She didn't even have the coin to buy so simple a thing.

Elyra wrung her hands in an attempt to ward off the creeping chill that was overtaking her fingers. Her toes were not faring much better. The more thought she put into this, the more her heart quickened. Her belly twisted. Was she really going to do this? Yes. She grit her teeth. Yes. She was. She had to get out of this place.

Elyra kicked off the simple rope sandals she wore, then stripped down to her under things. She hung her gray and cream servants dress open a hook on the wall, then crawled beneath her blankets. It was not that late, but duties were done, and she had little else to do. She was safe from the nobles so long as she remained where she was. She could read a book, but she'd read them all many times. Her hoard of stolen art supplies was exhausted. She could go and chat with Jadira and Dahn, but she did not want to intrude. Elyra may as well get comfortable and wait for morning.

Elyra lay her head back against the pillow, staring up at the barren gray stone walls. A few simple lamps hang from wrought iron hooks around the room. Though Elyra hadn't yet lit her own lamp for the night, a few others had. Elyra's section of wall was decorated with images she'd made herself. Admittedly Elyra was not much of an artist, but it was not about the skill, it was about the expression. Working on an image helped her forget where she was for a few moments, forget about the life she lived.

Whenever she had the chance she stole a piece of parchment, or stick of charcoal. Sometimes she got a quill and ink, other times she got a few tiny pots of paint and a brush. She used whatever she could get her hands on to create simple images from her mind. She tried to paint herself, and though it came out looking like a child's drawing, she still liked it. An attempt at a portrait of her mother came out no better artistically yet held even greater value to Elyra.

One of her favorites was an ink drawing she'd done of some distant mountains. Though they could be glimpsed upon the horizon from the city, Elyra saw them up close once in her youth. One of her earliest memories was of those mountains. Though her drawing was little more than angled lines and simple shading, she decided to take it with her when she went to see the dragon.

Elyra smiled to herself, wondering if the dragon lived in the mountains. That would be nice. Elyra could grow to enjoy serving some regal beast in his mountain lair. She might still be a servant, but it would be by her own choice. And if servitude was in her destiny, why not spend her days somewhere beautiful? Perhaps the creature would even take her flying.

"Mmmm," Elyra murmured aloud. How she would love to fly upon a dragon. It seemed like just the sort of terror she would grow to relish. "Yes. Take me flying, Dragon." She waved her hand in the air a little, imitating the sort of pompous gestures the nobles always made when bossing someone around. "You wanted a girl with courage so take me as high as you dare!"

"Who are you talking too, Elyra?" Jadira called out from a few beds down. Elyra heard her and her lover sharing a giggle. "Did you say something about a dragon?"

Elyra froze in embarrassment. "Yes." Her voice came out as little more than a squeak as scarlet heat rose across her face. "I'm just...imagining..."

"Have you been stealing wine again?" This time it was the man who spoke up, laughing.

Elyra smiled. "You know if I had, I'd share it." Then she smirked to herself, her hands behind her head. "Not with you, Dahn, but with Jadira and the other girls. You could have some of Jadira's, though."

"Oh no," Jadira said, giggling. "He could get his own. But I don't see what that has to do with a dragon."

Elyra's smile turned wicked. "I was just imagining a dragon had come to burn this place down. I was going to help him! Then I was going to have him take me flying for a while."

Jadira laughed and gave a little sigh. "You're an odd girl, Elyra. But I like it."

"Thank you," Elyra murmured.

Elyra spent the rest of the evening snuggled beneath her blankets, staring at the simple pictures she'd adorned her wall with. As the night deepened, worry crept into her thoughts. She was not so foolish as to think this could not go wrong. What if this dragon was a beast of great cruelty? What if he only wanted a woman to ravish her? Each time fear took hold of her heart, she wrenched herself free of its cold claws. At worst it would still be better to serve one cruel dragon than twelve cruel men.

Elyra kept her mind from tumbling into fearful holes by considering the dragon himself. How big a creature was he? What color might he be? Did he speak with a posh accent or did he snarl his words like an angry beast? How fast could he fly? Would he let her ride upon him? Was his back covered in spines? She'd never seen a dragon. As far as she knew, such creatures were not exactly common.

Thinking about the dragon eased her fears and helped the hours pass. One by one lamps were blown out, and darkness brought with it cooler air. After so many years in the same room, Elyra knew each woman by the way she slumbered. Some snored, some breathed heavily while others were so silent Elyra half-expected them to never wake. Elyra herself found sleep unreachable.

Long before dawn's fire burned through the blanket of night, Elyra was already scrubbing herself in a simple wooden tub she'd filled with hot water and soapy froth. The scent of the soap permeated the steam that rose from the tub. At least there was always enough soap to go around. Despite the nobles' apparent aversion to bathing, they expected their servants to look and smell clean and fresh. That at least was one demand Elyra was happy to comply with. She just wished they'd follow that command themselves. Most of those men were filthy.

Still, filth could be washed away. Elyra was glad at least she'd never had to fear catching a disease from them. The wenches were often subjected to humiliating trips to the healers to ensure they had nothing they could pass onto the nobles. The nobles in turn kept to the servant wenches to fulfill whatever desires their own wives might not be inclined to fulfill. Unlike street whores the wenches were free and clean. They were also on a regimen of herbs to help prevent any unwanted childbirth. Rumors were that after a time those herbs rendered a woman completely barren. Elyra preferred not to think about that.

At least she wouldn't have to take those damn herbs anymore no matter what the dragon may require of her. A dragon couldn't get her pregnant. Could he? She scrunched her nose as she worked a tattered cloth over her skin. She doubted he was even small enough to...well...Instead, he'd probably just demand that she use her...Elyra snorted. She'd worry about that later.

When she was clean, she pulled the plug on the tub and stepped out. She fetched herself a clean towel, wrung out her shoulder-length red hair, and then wrapped the towel around her body. Elyra went to her dresser and pulled out a fresh cotton dress. It was cream and gray like all the others. Unlike her other outfits this one was in a modest cut that hid her curves. It was the most formal looking thing she'd been given. Which was just what she wanted for the meeting she was about to have with the Head Mistress of Servants.

After she was dry and dressed, Elyra brushed her hair. She'd had the brush so long she'd worn little marks in the wooden handle with her fingers. Elyra set the brush down and stepped into her shoes. Aside from her rope sandals she had only a formal pair of black leather shoes for the occasions where she had to serve food or drink to groups of wealthy visiting merchants. The shoes hurt her feet, but she would not have to wear them much longer.

Elyra settled on her bed as the first purple glimmer of pre-dawn light began to bruise the eastern sky. Any moment now another servant would knock upon the door to the wake the girls and bring them their morning porridge. They'd have a short time to eat and get bathed, and then it would be off to start their morning duties. Elyra had no intention of waiting for anyone to ask her why she was dressed so early. She knew the Servant Mistress would be in her office by dawn, and Elyra meant to be there waiting.

When the knock came, Elyra was at the door before anyone else was even out of bed. She opened it and smiled at the boy holding a tray nearly as large as he was. The boy bore reddish hair but no mark. That made him luckier than most in this place. Elyra tussled the boys hair and let him in. On his tray was an immense tub of bland but filling porridge and lots of empty bowls stacked atop one of another. He set the tray down on an empty table, and then set about lighting some of the lamps around the room. Elyra watched him go from bed to bed, gently waking the women.

Elyra considered eating breakfast, but as knotted as her stomach was it did not seem wise. She could always steal herself something to eat later. While the other women were busy waking, Elyra slipped out into the hallway. Her quarters were in a part of the castle used by the servants, though at least the main hall was more accommodating than the servant corridors. Scuffed wooden paneling covered the walls, and the floor bore faded carpet long-since flattened beneath countless boots.

Elyra strode down the corridor and took the first door into the hidden pathways that snaked through the Hall Of Nobility. Despite the official title of the place, Elyra always thought it more of a castle than a hall. Admittedly she was not familiar with the differences between castles, Halls, palaces and so forth. The building was far older than the nobles who now claimed it as their home.

Elyra hurried through the narrow servant hallways. She ducked under pipes and beams, twisted to push her way through tight spaces, stepped over rises in the floor. After spending so many years navigating the cramped and confusing corridors she could just about run through them blind by now. She was careful not to get dirt upon her dress. It wouldn't do to sit before the Head Mistress of Servants with smudged clothing.

By the time the first sliver of golden fire cast its glow across the horizon, Elyra sat in a stiff, uncomfortable chair in a small antechamber that served as waiting room. She was the first one there, arriving even before Head Mistress. Elyra squirmed as she waited. Fear returned to gnaw at her belly, nausea replaced her usual morning hunger. She drummed her nails against the barren pine armrests of the chair. Every moment passed as an hour, every beat of her heart seemed a solitary moment surrounded by silence.

Elyra jerked upright when she heard the nearby door unlock. She tugged out the sides of her skirt and turned her face to the floor, a gesture that was half curtsy and half bow. She held it as Behka, Head Mistress of Servants entered the antechamber. With her face down she saw only the woman's shoes, black leather and bold buckles. Formal, as always.

"Oh, hello Elyra," The Head Mistress said. Her tone was sharp but not disrespectful. "Have you seen my secretary?"

"No, Ma'am," Elyra replied without straightening up from her curtsying bow. "I was the first to arrive here."

"I see." Elyra heard a tapping sound. She did not have to look up to know the Head Mistress was drumming the fingers of one hand against the palm of the other. "You must have something you wish to discuss with me, so come along them."

Once Head Mistress Behka turned back to her office, Elyra straightened up and followed her. Of all the people Elyra served, the Head Mistress was the only one Elyra wouldn't like to punch in the teeth with an armored gauntlet. Though the older woman was a stickler for traditions, she'd always treated Elyra and the other servants as fairly and respectfully as her position allowed.

Elyra hurried into the Head Mistress' office. She settled into the single chair in front of her desk, and bowed her head. Elyra listened to the woman shuffling papers, and rattling a quill in an ink well until she was addressed again. Though the woman treated Elyra respectfully, she did stick to decorum. And decorum stated a servant could not speak to their betters until addressed.

"What did you wish to discuss, Elyra?" The Head Mistress glanced up a moment, scribbling something onto parchment.

This was it. The moment she had been anticipating since she'd first heard of the dragon. This was her chance. This was her opportunity to escape this terrible place, to seize her own life and guide it in a direction of her choosing. Her icy hands trembled. Her breath froze in her lungs. She curled cold toes inside her shoes. Just do it. Just say it. Elyra took a deep breath and forced strength into her voice.

"Volunteer!" Damn.

"What?" The Head Mistress gave her an odd look. The older woman scratched at the graying hair tied in a bun atop her head.

"I volunteer!" Elyra blurted out.

Behka quirked a thin brow, then idly adjusted the highly-formal blue and black dress she wore. "You volunteer?"

Elyra's mouth went dry. She licked her lips and scraped her tongue over her teeth to try and moisten it. Her voice came out raspy, but at least she spat out a few more words. "Yes. I've come here to volunteer."

The Head Mistress sighed, easing back into her gray-cushioned chair. A smile tugged at the older woman's lips. She tapped the tip of her quill against the paper she was writing on, leaving little black dots. "For what?"

Elyra blinked. Oh. Right. This was all going wrong. Her fear was getting the best of her. She balled up her hands into fists and grit her teeth. As she tried to find the words again, she glanced around the room. The Head Mistress' mahogany desk was covered with organized stacks of paper and folders, books and ledgers. A few stone ink wells were organized in one corner, feathered quills sticking from one of them. Lamps hung from curved brass poles. The walls were decorated with beautiful tapestries. Directly behind the Head Mistress was a tapestry covered with mountains at sunrise. Layers of purple and gold depicted the rising sun banishing the nighttime gloom. It was a lovely image, and Elyra could almost feel the silence and serenity of it creeping into her soul.

"Lovely, isn't it?" The Head Mistress glanced back at the tapestry, smiling. "Didn't you once tell me you wanted to see the mountains?"

"Yes," Elyra said, her voice little more than a murmur.

The older woman smiled, turning her attention back to her morning paperwork. She signed a few papers, then began to write a letter. "Take your time, Girl. I'm not going anywhere."

Elyra smiled back at the older woman. Sometimes, a kindness as simple as a moment of patience was all it took to help set her mind at ease. Elyra received her duties from the woman for many years now, and she'd always showed more patience and respect than Elyra ever expected. There was a predictability to the Head Mistress that was almost as comforting as her moments of patience.

Every day she wore a dark colored dress with long sleeves that showed not a hint of skin below the neck or above her ankles. Her formal shoes always always seemed new. A simple bronze locket hung around her neck. Her hair had grayed over the years but the bun tied atop her head never changed. Her face was dusted with a bit of powder but she made no attempt to hide the lines and spots of age.

Elyra might have thought her a spinster if not for some of the wilder rumors that circulated amongst the servants about her younger days. They were probably false yet Elyra thought the Head Mistress anything but a prude. She simply respected herself too much to show off her body to anyone but those she cared for.

A shame Elyra wasn't given the same chance. Not that she blamed the Head Mistress for what the nobles did to the servant wenches. There were some things Elyra knew the Head Mistress simply couldn't change even if she cared too. Exposing the noble's habits with the wenches would just get her thrown in some dungeon.

Elyra stared at the tapestry behind the Head Mistress. In her mind she saw that golden light growing, bathing the entire mountain range in its brilliance. How beautiful the sunrise must be as it broke across the mountains. Elyra hoped she'd get to watch the sun rise above the rugged peaks at least once before the dragon decided to eat her.

The dragon. That was why she was here.

Without taking her eyes from the mountains of the tapestry, Elyra at last put words to her new life. "I have come to volunteer to be the dragon's maiden."

The suddenly strength in her own voice surprised her. The scratching of the Head Mistress' quill against parchment came to an immediate stop. The older woman slowly turned her penetrating brown eyes up to Elyra. For a moment she simply stared at her in disbelief. Then she set her quill down, and leaned across the desk towards Elyra.

"You what, Elyra?"

"I have come to volunteer to be the dragon's maiden." When Elyra repeated herself, her voice held the same fire she imagined flickering through the dragon's teeth. "Ma'am, surely by now you have heard that a dragon has made a request for a maiden, and that it has fallen upon the nobility to provide that for him." Elyra saw no reason not to put things bluntly. "It's come to my attention that the dragon requires a woman of courage and experience. We all have the experience, Ma'am, but I think you would agree I am the most courageous of us all."

"Come to your attention?" The Head Mistress sharpened her tone. A flick of her eyes told Elyra she already had documents on the matter.

Elyra ignored her implication. "I can see no more courageous a maiden than one who volunteers herself for the dragon's service."

Behka drummed her fingers against the papers she'd glanced at. Her words were a threatening knife aimed at Elyra's heart. "You're treading dangerous ice here, Girl, and it grows thinner with every step."

Elyra deflected the blade away. "I often do. I think the dragon will like that about me." The Head Mistress stared at her, unblinking. Where the other servant wenches would look away, Elyra stared right back. She knew the woman well enough to press her luck. "The dragon has already been insulted once when they offered him some frightened virgin." The Mistress's cheek twitched, her eyes narrowed slightly. Good. Elyra wanted her knowledge to surprise the older woman. The longer this went in her favorite, the better she kept control of her fear. "Do you think it wise to insult the beast again by sending him who quakes at his very voice? I think he would be more pleased with someone brave enough to volunteer."

The Head Mistress finally sighed, sinking back into her chair. "You've found a way out, haven't you."

This time it was Elyra's turn to be surprised. She hadn't expected the older woman to see right through her so easily. She gaped a moment, and then tried to collect herself. "I simply wish to-"

"I always knew you'd leave us on your own terms, Elyra." Behka smiled to herself, gazing around her office. She waved an age-spotted hand. "Though to be honest, I thought it would be via execution after you hurled Atrius out the highest window you could find."

Hearing that from Head Mistress Behka was such an absurd moment that Elyra actually laughed. She shook her head, trying to fight back her laughter. "I'd never do such a thing, Head Mistress."

"We both know they were never going to break you, Elyra." Behka's voice softened, her smile grew warmer. "There was always something in your eyes, just waiting to be unleashed. Waiting for that day you were ready to go out on your own terms. Has that day come, Elyra?"

"I...I don't know," Elyra admitted. She took a deep breath, held it till her lungs burned. When she could hold it no more, she heaved a great sigh. "I don't think he'd demand someone courageous just to kill them."

"Unless you anger him. Or insult him. Or he grows tired of you." The Head Mistress ticked off a few fingers. "Or he simply likes to watch brave things die. He is a dragon, after all."

"Then so be it!" Elyra spat, sitting up straighter. "If the beast kills me than at least I took a chance! At least it was my choice that lead me there, at least I had a hand in my own fate!"

"Indeed," Behka said, murmuring to herself. She pulled a fresh piece of parchment aside, and began to write upon it. "You realize that this wicked beast is male, don't you? You know what the dragon is going to make you do for him?"

"Nothing the nobles don't already make me do." Elyra's words dripped with bitter poison. Bekha's quill froze upon the page for a moment. "If the dragon should so much as thank me in his drowsy satisfaction, that alone would be an improvement. Yes, I'm aware of what the beast may request. If you must know, serving the carnal needs of a single dragon already sounds better than satisfying a dozen filthy nobles."

Behka went back to writing, and Elyra folded her arms. She stared at the mountain tapestry again. "Dragons live in the mountains, don't they? I mean...this dragon. He lives in the mountains, right?"

Behka sighed a little, waving her quill. "I don't know. I suspect he does."

"I hope we have to fly to get there," Elyra's voice grew lower and lower. "I should love to fly. Perhaps he'll give me some of his gold."

"The beast is known to demand plenty of it, so I suppose he'll have some to share." The Head Mistress chuckled to herself. "Though I doubt such a foul creature would share it. Are you sure you want to do this, Elyra?"

"I can't take this life anymore." Elyra stared into the Head Mistress's eyes. "I'm so close to leaving this horrible place I can almost taste the fresh air. If I turn back now and don't take this chance? Then you're right. The next time Atrius comes for me I really will put him through a window." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair. "This is a chance I have to take."

"So be it, Elyra."

"I wonder if he'll take me when he goes to make his demands." Elyra chuckled a little bit. "Maybe he'll even let me make a demand. It sounds exciting, don't you think?" Elyra could not hold back her smile.

"It sounds wicked, actually." Behka grinned to herself, then signed the document in a few places. She sanded the ink, then fetched a bit of red wax and a candle to melt it with.

"Head Mistress, I'd like you to know something." Elyra leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the droplets of wax falling upon the document that would set her free. Her voice sunk to a harsh whisper. "You have given me comfort over the years, where everyone else only brought coldness and cruelty."

Bekha's hands shook a little as she set the candle down. She opened a drawer. She retrieved a small golden signet, and pressed it into the wax. Then she blew upon it till the wax began to dry. She blew away the drying sands, and very slowly pushed the document across the table towards Elyra.

"This will get you what you ask for, Elyra." She sank back in her chair, heaving a sigh. "May you find some measure of happiness with it."

Elyra had to work to quell the shaking of her hands long enough to hold the letter and read it. It was just as promised. It named her as the woman to be offered to the dragon, and that the request should be fulfilled immediately. Elyra read it three times to be sure. Then she bowed as deeply as she could. Not for decorum, but in genuine thanks and with real respect.

"Thank you, Head Mistress."

The Head Mistress gave her a little smile, and waved. "You're welcome. Good luck, Elyra."