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The Red Darkhouse, surprisingly, gets better after a while.
Sure, the elaborate maze of tunnels interlinking with one another in the underbelly of the kingdom can be dark, intimidating, and honestly a little musty at times— but it’s spacious, big enough to fit the dragons that call here home for the foreseeable future, and quiet from the lack of outside interference.
It’s a good place to pause and think… which Ranalie often does, sitting alone, murky thoughts brimming in her head as she mulls over her responsibilities.
Today is no different— or, at least, it should have been.
“Princess Ranalie.” A voice, light but firm, calls out to her; Ranalie turns, eyes shifting to the knight. “What a coincidence.”
“Please,” Ranalie says, softly smiling. “Just Ranalie is fine. What brings you here to these tunnels?”
“Just patrolling,” Matti replies, returning her smile. “You know how it is these days.”
The paladin is in her iconic armour, a sturdy suit of silver interwoven with golden fabric for flexibility that shimmers faintly even in the darkness. It’s complemented with a sword and shield at her sides, each one brimming with a pale radiance.
As for the mouse herself, her bob matches the pale blonde of her eyes, the top of her head adorned with a pair of mouse ears that flick every so often. She stands out, almost blindingly so— it’s a match made in heaven for her shiny outfit.
A heroine from a fairytale— at least, as Ranalie puts it, much to her embarrassment.
After their brief and awkward interaction at the mice’s territory, the Churchmouse Streets, they didn’t meet each other often except for coincidence. But even so, they always found the time to exchange a few pleasant words as they warmed up to each other more.
Soon, a few soon turned into many, and nowadays, long conversations between them are commonplace.
“Ah…” Ranalie apologetically remarks. “I hope there haven’t been any complications recently.”
“Thankfully, no.” Matti says, sitting down beside Ranalie before she lays her accessories on the ground. “The spell hasn’t been acting up, and there have been no intruders in the kingdom yet… I hope it stays this way until the adventurer makes their way back.”
“I see.” The dragon nods. “And… How are the mice doing?”
“Better. They’re warming up to the dragons more, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“I’m glad.” She smiles.
There are many avenues to continue this conversation— Ranalie could talk more about their relations, how the mice and dragon are slowly learning to accept and understand one another. She could talk about themselves, how Matti is holding up and if she has any plans that she’s willing to share. But the dragon’s smile only fades, eyes lowering and wandering elsewhere. She’s troubled— and Matti picks up on it quickly.
“Alright, what’s with the long face?” She asks, a hint of concern in her voice. “Today, you seem… especially down.”
“…Is it that obvious?”
“Very.” She bluntly replies. “Are you still thinking about what to do next with the dragons?”
“Yes.” Ranalie softly says, after a moment.
It was true that Matti had an inkling regarding Ranalie’s lack of confidence towards the dragons’ future.
But today is different. Today feels… personal.
“But… more so… I was thinking about… me.” Ranalie admits. “Whether I… am adequate to lead the dragons.”
Matti tilts her head as she straightens her body, encouraging the princess to continue.
“Um…” She falters, but swallows once and continues. “I’m just lost… I think. We used to lead the kingdom, defend against outside threats— but that responsibility has now fallen onto Shira.”
Ranalie sighs; her prim and proper posture vanishes as she shrivels into herself a little, wrapping her arm around herself. “Now, the dragons wait in the tunnels. Most of them understand— but I know they are… waiting for an answer I don’t have. I keep thinking about it, but… I don’t know what to do. What I can do for them.”
She laughs, concealing her frail appearance. “I’m sorry. That was… improper of me. I’m sure I will find a solution soon.”
But Matti says nothing, only inching closer to gently hold her hand. The gesture surprises Ranalie, her lips parting, body tensing; Matti waits until she relaxes before she says anything.
“If it’s any consolation, Shira most certainly would give you back the position,” the mouse says, half-jokingly.
It earns a wistful chuckle from Ranalie, who admits, “I never really wanted it, to be honest.”
Matti pauses, briefly thinking about her next words. “…Do you talk to the dragons? About these kinds of things.”
As expected, Ranalie shakes her head.
“I think every leader has their doubts,” Matti says. “Whether they’re… strong enough, or smart enough, or well, just competent in general. I… too, thought I failed the mice when I couldn’t stand my ground against the adventurer.”
Granted, the both of them know she— all of them, weren’t in the right headspace, but Ranalie nods regardless.
Matti’s eyes lower as she recalls the events, unconsciously rubbing Ranalie’s hands with her own. “But the mice… they reassured me, tended to my wounds, and stood behind me, even when I lost. It was clear that… they cared for me. Wanted me to be their leader.”
She looks up, back at the dragon. “There’s a reason why you’re here… is what I’m trying to say. Wisdom, strength, um, looks… they follow you because they choose to. I know mice and dragons are very… different, but I’m sure that if you asked your people, they’d say the same thing.”
“…But is that okay?” Ranalie softly asks. “For someone like me to... believe that?”
“...What kind of question is that?” Matti can’t help but scowl a little. “Of course it is. Just because you lead them doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything.” Then, with a comforting tone, her hand firmly grasping the dragon’s, “I think you’re doing a great job— with all these doubts, you still find the time to bridge the gap between the mice and the dragons. You just need more time to sort everything out— even if you think you’ve taken long enough.”
Ranalie’s gaze shifts, clearly turning her words over in her head, and Matti can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The mouse gently pinches her hand, bringing her right back to the conversation. “And please, lighten up. At this point— you don’t even need the spell to get depressed. If it helps, get some fresh air. Maybe you’ve grown more fond of these tunnels… but no offence, it can get suffocating.”
“I know what you mean.” The dragon says, a small smile finding its way onto her face. “…You’re right. I think… perhaps a visit to the Emerald Lakeside is long overdue.”
“See?” Matti returns her smile. “You look… way better when you’re smiling.”
She can’t help but flush a little at her own words, but she’s telling the truth; pale skin, ruby red eyes, silver hair braided into a long ponytail, head topped off with a reddish-pink crown and an iridescent gem firmly planted on her forehead— she’s majestic, complemented with her white dress laced with red ribbons, she’s stunning—
Matti is getting off track. As she said— Ranalie looks better when she smiles.
Thankfully, she doesn’t notice the mouse’s flustered look— or at least, she chooses not to comment on it. “Thank you, Matti. You’ve given me… much to think about.”
“It’s my pleasure, princess.” She jests, earning a soft sigh from Ranalie, before she stands, picking up the sword and shield in the process. “Sorry, but I have to go soon… any longer and the mice will think I’m in trouble in the tunnels.”
“Of course.” Ranalie quickly stands. “My apologies for holding you back.”
“Like I said, it’s my pleasure.” With that, Matti waves, disappearing around the corner of the tunnels— but not before leaving a teasing, “Till next time, princess.”
The dragon waves back, before her gaze falls onto her palm as she lowers it.
Her hand was very warm; she can’t help but think.
Matti finds herself battered and bruised as she lays on the ground, one arm barely propping her up.
The wolf looms over her, a growl escaping bared fangs. A ferocious foe, not unlike Merran— but its jet-black fur, its glazed eyes, saliva dripping from its mouth— it’s not from her pack, from outside the walls of the kingdom, and definitely without reason.
She had gotten careless, forgot it wasn’t the adventurer, only aiming to knock her down for the night. No, this was a fight meant to fully incapacitate the other party.
She’d gotten too aggressive— put everything into her charges, her quick movement… she failed to anticipate the wide slash that sent her tumbling from her flight ring. The few punishing attacks that broke through her shield have left their marks; deep claw marks etched into her silver breastplate, unsightly drops of blood staining the once lustrous fabric.
Matti lets out shaky breaths as she unsteadily rises, sword drawn.
She’s afraid, yes; a chill running down her spine, beads of cold sweat trickling down her nape— but more so, she’s determined, teeth clenched and eyes flaring; no matter what, she’s going to protect this kingdom.
Without warning, rings upon rings of energy, woven full of intricate patterns, expand outwards on the ground, enveloping her in a flash of light. It stuns the wolf, enough time for her to transform fully into her animal form; a large mouse with resplendent fur, sword and shield poised for combat.
In this form, she’s faster, stronger, but that’s not the main purpose of it. The release of energy doubles as a beacon.
“To me, my knights!” Matti roars, and at once, she’s surrounded by her seven closest followers, each one with their own weapons, with their faith in her.
“Matti…” Varo, her second-in-command, whispers in concern, noticing her injuries… but Matti shakes her head. She will not let them down.
“Be wary,” she warns, “This foe is fast and unpredictable.”
Matti holds her hand high, blade piercing the sky as a faint glow begins to emanate from her very soul.
Whilst she begins the tedious process of charging the powerful attack, her knights swarm the wolf, a flurry of blades, arrows and spells falling on it— but it’s futile, the wolf weaving in and out of the attacks before returning wide, arcing blows of its own. Each of the mice are holding their ground, but for how long— Matti can only hope it’s enough.
Pin and Elta go down first; the pair is young, inexperienced— a quick swipe from the wolf sends them both tumbling onto the ground, where they cry out in pain.
Anger surges through Matti— which only dissolves into panic as Aus and Nimi follow suit. Their axe and arrows connect… but it merely bounces off the wolf’s steely fur, angering it. With a snarl, it lunges towards Aus, flinging the axe away with its bite. Disoriented, she clumsily dodges, but the wolf catches and throws her towards Nimi, who was already drawing another arrow.
Unable to react, they collide against one another, the force knocking them unconscious as they slump against the ground.
“No!” Matti cries out, drawing the attention of the wolf, its pearly eyes fixated on her— luckily, it’s soon broken by Orn, who sends another barrage of energised beams to distract it. Her unorthodox fighting style, a chaotic mix of both long slashes and magic spells from her spear, is unorthodox enough to keep the wolf at bay.
But In the blink of an eye, more than half her followers have been taken out. The frequency of their attacks have diminished significantly, giving the wolf breathing space to adapt and recognise the patterns, the slight gaps in between casts of her spells— Matti knows Orn won’t last long.
She grits her teeth; she wants to join the fray, to support her friends— but they’ve put their trust into her.
All she can do is watch as Orn falls to her knees, drained and heaving.
Meg and Varo are doing their best; the duo is the most skilled in magic amongst them, especially when they cast together; a brilliant blend of red and beige as they blast off their spells— but if the wolf can already dodge them whilst under fire from the other five mice, the two alone should be easy fodder for it.
There’s not enough time, Matti realises, and by then, it’s already too late.
Meg is knocked to one side, the staff always at her side now cleanly snapped in half, and the wolf towers over an injured Varo, blood trickling down her forehead. Yet, she remains defiant, a scowl on her face as she firmly grasps onto her obsidian blade— even as the wolf opens its mouth, a gaping maw ready to devour whole.
For the briefest moment, Varo’s eyes flick back, a small smile on her face— Matti can’t discern what it is she’s thinking, can’t have it end like this—
With a cry, she aims her sword, only half-charged, and fires a beam of pure, radiant energy. It rams into the wolf, causing it to yelp in pain— but more so in surprise.
It was nowhere near powerful enough to stop it fully, but that wasn’t Matti’s intention anymore. In an instant, she swoops in, carrying Varo in her arms back to her original spot.
The dark-skinned mouse opens her mouth— but is immediately cut off by the paladin. “What were you thinking?” She hisses, her eyes brimming with tears. “I— you—”
“A knight… never falters,” Varo wheezes out. “That attack… why didn’t you…”
“…What kind of leader would I be if I left you alone?” Matti grimaces, shaking her head.
She looks up, seeing the wolf slowly advance towards them, teeth bared and saliva dripping. “Varo, I need you to warn the others.”
Her eyes widen. “But, Matti, you…”
“I’ll manage. Now go.” Matti commands, laying Varo gently on the ground before she picks up her sword and shield, now fully in the wolf’s sights.
“…No.”
She watches, lips parting, as her second-in-command staggers to her feet, drawing her obsidian blade once more. “I’m sorry, Matti, but I won’t compromise. We do this together.”
“Count… ghh… me in.” Meg soon joins them, one hand clutching her side, other holding onto the rosy red gem plucked from her staff.
“Me… too.” Orn returns to their side, panting— yet she holds the spear in her hand, ever so gracefully.
One by one, the mice return to their leader’s side, weapons still held high and determination coursing through their veins. Injured, exhausted— it doesn’t matter, not as they help each other stand steady. The wolf snarls, its advancement suddenly halted by unprecedented foes.
“Everyone…” She mumbles, a pained smile finding its way onto her face. “Let’s do this.”
Regardless of the outcome, they’ve decided to stick together. Even if it’s not what she wants, even if she knows it’s better for them to get help first— Matti feels something warm well up in her chest.
She takes the first step, ready to throw everything she is at the wolf—
But in an instant, the mice are covered in a massive shadow, moments before a strong wind nearly knocks them off their feet. Matti’s surprised, nearly turning back— but the familiar flap of wings from above causes her to smile, adrenaline and triumph flooding her veins.
“You’re in trouble now.”
With a roar, both parties are enveloped in a tornado of reddish-pink fire, stretching high enough to claw at the clouds. Several tendrils of flames erupt from all over the walls of the flames, attaching themselves randomly and entrapping them further within its cobweb-like structure. On instinct, Matti feels her heart pounding, drenched in her sweat almost instantly from the sweltering heat— but she sits firmly put, one hand raised to command the mice to follow suit.
The wolf snarls, attempts to leap out of the way— only for the beams to rotate terrifyingly fast, catching it right in its firing line. With a howl, the wolf’s fur immediately catches fire; the acrid smell of smoke and burnt flesh causes Matti to grimace and wrinkle her nose.
The fire subsides, as fast as it had appeared, and she gets to see the dragon in all her glory; white, impenetrable scales, feathered wings that stretched from one street to another, the ends of which are dyed in a rosy hue— jagged red spikes that run up her back and neck, and to top it all off, a horn jutting out from her snout, that same iridescent tone that Matti recognises instantly.
“Leave.” The dragon bellows, a mixture of smoke and purple fire escaping her mouth as a warning. “Never return.”
With a whimper, the wolf immediately retreats, leaping over the walls of the kingdom and disappearing into the trees.
The threat has been neutralised; Matti can’t help but sigh in relief, before her head wavers and her knees turn to jelly. In an instant, the dragon dissolves in a flash of light, and Ranalie rushes to hold her steady before she fully collapses.
“Matti! Matti, can you hear me?” Ranalie’s panicked expression wavers into view as Matti feels herself getting lifted into her arms.
“I’m… okay…” She mumbles. Her head lulls; all of the mice have collapsed onto the ground from exhaustion, but they seem fine, for the most part— a quick fix from Elta should get all of them back on their feet by next morning. Matti’s just… exhausted beyond belief; enacting that special attack, even halfway through, has taken its toll on her body. “That was… wonderful…”
Before long, Matti is fast asleep, leaning fully into Ranalie’s embrace. She panics, unsure of what to do next—
“Princess, she’ll be fine.” Orn calls out, drawing the dragon’s attention. “Let us heal her.”
Ranalie blinks, realises she’s overstepped; all the mice are now looking at her. She shakily exhales, composing herself for a moment before she gingerly lowers Matti into the mouse’s arms. “…Please.”
“Thank you.” Meg says, managing to stand up and place one hand on the dragon’s shoulder. “You saved us.”
“But, I…” Ranalie starts— she purses her lips, eyes lowering. “Yes. Thank you… for holding out until I arrived.”
It’s clear what she’s thinking; the guilt shows on her face like daylight, hands balled into fists. With a soft sigh, almost imperceptible, she returns atop her levitation ring and leaves, but not before casting a final glance at Matti.
Several days later, they meet again in the Emerald Lakeside.
Ranalie sees her gazing at the jade waters, dressed in simple, flowing robes instead of her armour, her skin wrapped tightly in bandages. Her hand that’s been raised inevitably lowers as her heart squeezes, but Matti sees the princess before she can slink away.
Her face brightens up as she waves, and she beckons Ranalie to sit beside her.
“Hi. I didn’t expect you to be here.” Matti says, a soft smile on her face.
“I… came out for some fresh air, like you advised.”
“…And are you feeling refreshed?”
Ranalie doesn’t reply; her pensive expression speaks a thousand words. And this time, Matti knows it’s not just about the mice, or the dragons, or the relationship between them— no, the way the princess just looks so vulnerable— the mouse waits for her to form the correct words.
“Are you… better?” Ranalie starts with that, even if the answer is quite obvious.
“Of course.” Matti responds in turn. “Everyone had recovered by the next day… though, they were very insistent on me getting a few extra days of rest.”
“…Yes, I think I would have, too,” Ranalie mumbles, earning a soft laugh from the paladin.
“I was thinking about what you said. I… had decided to give the tunnels a renovation… to make them more hospitable, for guests.”
“Oh?” Matti tilts her head.
“More decoration, proper lighting, some scents to chase away the musty smell…” Ranalie recounts, as though she’s preparing a shopping list. “That day, we all split across the kingdom to find the necessary items. By the time I heard of the intruder, it was already… too late.”
She finally meets Matti’s gaze, her eyes wavering. “I’m… sorry. I’d gotten too complacent, with the lack of threats to the kingdom. I should have—”
But Ranalie doesn’t finish her statement; the mouse pinches her nose, earning a surprised noise from the princess. “What are you sorry for?” Matti says, a frown on her face. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”
“But— I—” Ranalie splutters once Matti releases her fingers. “You got hurt—”
“So? All due duty of a paladin, no?” The mouse sighs, a tender smile on her face. “You make it sound like I’m the princess here.”
Gently, she takes Ranalie’s hand once again. “I’m right here, Ranalie. You worry too much, and you’re too hard on yourself… Come on, it’s okay.”
The dragon squeezes her hand in return, closing her eyes; Matti’s relieved the lines around her face begin to disappear, shoulders relaxing— though the ephemeral tear that falls from her eyes worries her. They stay like this for a while, feeling the breeze linger on them, carrying with it the faint aroma of petrichor from overhead showers. The mouse’s gaze returns to the waters, her reflection crystal clear and dyed a green hue.
“Thank you.” Ranalie whispers.
“Mm.”
“I was thinking…” She opens her eyes, following Matti’s eyes to the water. “I thought it would be nice if the dragons could protect the kingdom again. Alongside the mice.”
“…Is that what you want for the dragons?” Matti asks.
“Yes.” Ranalie affirms, facing her once again. “The dragons can handle intruders, and the mice can handle internal issues— we are more powerful, but you are nimble and much more efficient. It… helps make sure we aren’t stretched thin.”
“And you’re worried that we’d face another intruder we can’t handle, and we’ll get hurt again, right?”
Matti sees right through her; the dragon slowly nods after a moment. “You don’t have to accept,” Ranalie quickly adds. “I understand tensions between our people are still settling down—”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” the mouse laughs.
It takes Ranalie by surprise; she blinks once, twice, before she opens her mouth again. “Really?”
“Yes!” Matti repeats. “A lot of the mice have begun to change their opinions on the dragons… especially after your big swoop the other day. I think this is great to expose our people to each other more.”
“Ah.” Ranalie sheepishly looks away. “That’s… good to hear.”
“You can start anytime,” Matti says. “The dragons… as protectors of the kingdom. I think it suits you very much.”
“Me too,” Ranalie softly says, and finally, Matti gets her to smile.
They lapse into a comfortable silence once again, appreciating the scenery around them. The blades of grass surrounding them, leaves swaying in the breeze— as though in the summer, they’re all coloured a natural shade of green, yet they shimmer like gemstones, viridescent hues that remind Matti a little about Ranalie’s gem, and—
The mouse is suddenly acutely aware of Ranalie trailing random patterns on her hand with her fingers, still interlocked together. “What’s wrong?” Matti asks.
“Nothing.” Ranalie replies, but she doesn’t stop. It’s just… your hands are very warm.”
Matti only chuckles, not saying more.
Deep down, she shares the same sentiments; falling asleep in the dragon’s embrace, pressed against her body, comforting like a furnace in winter— the mouse feels that same warmth in her chest right now.
She wasn’t fond of Ranalie at first, but through their interactions, the mouse has come to realise the dragon is so much more than the power-hungry ruler she’d initially envisioned. She worries, she cries, laughs— she’s trying her best to be better. After a while, it became crystal clear what these feelings towards Ranalie were. Though, Matti believes it’s not the time. They’re both busy, as leaders of their people— maybe one day, when the groundwork has been laid out and they finally have time to breathe, to settle down for a bit.
For now, her feelings will be her little secret.