Archive of Our Own

Qifrey was a man now, and it appears that his magic was no longer content in staying as calm as it had been a majority of his life- or, as calm as it has been a majority of the life he remembers.

The pack he throws over his shoulders gets covered by his cloak before he finally turns to regard the man who had raised him- Beldaruit. The man was sat in a chair that Qifrey had enchanted to walk on its own depending on the way Beldaruit draws back the strings attached it it’s armrests. He tugs on them as he nears his charge; the wood carved to resemble a ram’s hoof moving as if it had joints and muscles under the wooden surface.

The polished contraption stops before him and his adoptive father’s winkled hand raises to land on the young man’s cheek, a sad smile stretching at the older man’s lips, “You’ll visit, correct? This house will feel quite lonely without you summoning illusions and noisy firecrackers at odd hours of the night.”

Qifrey raises his own hand to rest on Beldaruit’s frail wrist, “Of course; I wouldn’t want you wasting away in your room for the rest of your life.” He teases back, “I know those old bones of yours are quite lazy when I’m not around.”

The man just huffs and gently pats at Qifrey’s cheek before instead twisting his wrist in the younger man’s grip to hold onto his fingers, “You know my staff will keep me moving. Don’t worry about me, just calm that magic of yours down and come back with stories to tell me; life gets boring in the countryside, you know?”

Qifrey squeezes his father’s fingers once before placing them down, taking a step back to bow in a rare show of respect, “I’ll visit often, so don’t go running off where I can’t find you.” He exits his bow and turns to the door, where a waiting servant opens it promptly, “Goodbye, Bel.”

The door shuts softly once he steps past it and he breathes in the warm spring air before taking on the stairs before him, spirits raising the farther he gets from his father’s estate and the closer he gets to that urging energy he feels in the distance.

“Goodbye, Qifrey.” Beldaruit whispers, wizened eyes tracking his son’s retreating form from the living room window until he can’t anymore. He will be missed, but it is for the best.

—

Qifrey had never played far into the woods near his home while growing up- Beldaruit had always advised against it because he wouldn’t have been able to search for his son if he were to have gotten lost, so Qifrey finds his thighs and feet growing tired and sore around midday from the exertion of hiking. The energy he had felt calling to him was growing in intensity- so he knew he was heading in the right direction- but he also knew he needed to sit down and rest for a moment.

His provisions were well-stocked thanks to Beldaruit’s concerned fussing, so he simply pulls out some dried jerky and gets to chewing on that while idly watching as a rabbit hops past his resting spot.

The bunny’s small nose twitches at the scent of meat and tilts its head curiously before deciding that it would much rather run off to a nearby berry bush for its own lunch. Qifrey had always longed to see the world outside of the estate and the nearby town, so being able to leave them all behind for a while felt freeing. Don’t get him wrong; he loves his town and he appreciates all that Beldaruit has done for him, but his curiosity for the outside world can never be satisfied from stories told at the tavern by drunk adventures or the storybooks he used to read at night when he was meant to be sleeping. He longed to touch the grass of another kingdom, to meet people who had not already heard rumors about him, to find out more about his past than the hastily-written letters his parents had left behind for him before Beldaruit found him- dirty, starving, confused- on his porch during a rainy night.

He never knew why they had to leave so suddenly, just that their letters spoke of a love that required them to run from people who wished to harm them, and that Qifrey would be safest with the town’s kind burgomaster. He knew not of their names or their social class, but he did know that their decision to leave him was not one chosen lightly. So, the only question he cared to know was- why were they being hunted?

He was too young at the time for it to be a result of the magic ban in Kalhn running his parents out of the kingdom and into the border town that Beldaruit governed, so that left him lost. He guesses it could be witch hunters, but again, they were few and far between before the ban took place.

So, now he hikes through the forest looking for answers in the odd magical energy guiding him deeper into the Argentgard wilderness.

The rabbit he was subconsciously tracking finally hops off and the man takes it as his cue to do the same. His skirts are a bit dusty, so he brushes off the dirt and gathers his things once more before following the silent call digging under his skin and into his bones, tugging him north.

—

He hears them before he catches sight of their camp. The druids aren’t any that he had seen before- a few had passed through the town for seeds and fabrics before, so he is aware of them and their oddities. These ones, though, appear to have forgone their usual darkened cloaks and instead walk around in arrays of color that Qifrey finds alluring against the stone and forest green trees surrounding them. He catches sight of a woman dying fabrics with some plants they must have gathered, and concludes that they simply dye their own fabrics themselves instead of spending money on pre-dyed fabrics in the nearby towns.

The first one to notice him is a young man like himself and the man’s black brow raises in open curiosity as he nears, “Hello.” His greeting was kind and he leans closer to shamelessly inspect Qifrey from head-to-toe, “You’re not from around here.” He comments unnecessarily, “I’m Olruggio- but you can call me Olly! What brings you here?”

Momentarily shocked by the man’s openness to a stranger who was- essentially- caught lurking near the druid settlement makes him mute before he finally clears his throat to respond, “I’m Qifrey.” He blinks a few times before finally gathering his wits to bow in his own kind greeting, “I was just hoping to visit your settlement; I felt an unusually energy and wanted to investigate it.”

Olruggio snickers, “No need to be so formal!” His hand smacks Qifrey’s back roughly, “Come; I’ll introduce you to our Arch Druid.”

Qifrey rights himself after the slap to his back and tries to not frown at the overtly friendly gesture- not liking the sting the hit left behind- and instead follows behind the druid silently as he chatters on about the settlement and how things are run.

Most of the other druids glance up at them before returning to their task, but a few of the older ones take second glances before straightening their spines in thinly-veiled shock. Qifrey tries to ignore the eyes that seem to now follow him as they enter the mouth of a cave, one that is littered with magical orbs of various colors lighting the path ahead.

The man sitting in the middle of a circle of children glances up briefly before whispering a few instructions to the kids, which leads them to hurry out of the cave to follow through with whatever he asked of them. The man was tall and he wore a dark green cloak on his broad shoulders. He appeared to be a few decades older than Qifrey himself and peers at the young warlock as if he was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“Arch Druid! Qifrey here wishes to inquire about odd magical energy he had felt originating from our camp.” Olruggio greets, either not sensing the growing unease from his guest or simply ignoring it, “I brought him over right away once I caught him near the edge of the settlement.”

The Arch Druid nods with a smile sent Olruggio’s way before refocusing on Qifrey, “Strange energy?” He questions, hand reaching up to fiddle with his beard in thought, “Care to explain what they energy feels like? It will help pinpoint what you might be looking for.”

Qifrey glances from the two men watching him and sighs, “I’m not sure how to explain it; it’s almost like a lure? Maybe an urge to search it out? It began after I reached adulthood and wouldn’t leave- it also began around the time my magic began to act up.” He was a bit embarrassed to admit that, but he assumes if anyone can help- it might be an Arch Druid who already knows much about magic.

The man hums, eyes squinting as if his assumption about Qifrey had just be confirmed, but he still needed something else to make the image clearer, “Answer me this; who is your father?”

Qifrey’s breath pauses in his chest, air simply freezing and unwilling to move from where it begins to burn in his lungs, “Father?” He croaks, “What does that have to do with our current issue?”

“Olruggio, would you mind checking on the children for me? They should be helping Mary deliver her potions, but you know how they can grow distracted.” The young druid nods hesitantly- clearly wishing to stay, but unwilling to go against his leader’s wishes- and sends Qifrey a curious glance before hurrying out of the cave.

The older man turns back to the warlock, “Now, please answer my question. I swear none of what you say will leave this cave.” The man’s brown eyes were honest and kind, an understanding smile stretching his lips when he spots whatever expression Qifrey was currently wearing.

The warlock swallows back the urge to lie and instead speaks honestly, “I never knew him; him and my mother left me when I was young and I never knew their names.” His eye flicks to the side, fringe covering his expression when he ducks his head down.

A somber energy fills the air in the silence that follows before the man finally responds, “I’m sorry to hear of that, I’ve lost my father too.” Qifrey looks up with shock and the older man nods, “He had tried to bring Kalhn’s queen back from her cursed slumber, but his spell had backfired and killed him. It was unfortunate, but I try to focus on the fact that he had died trying to save someone- something he strongly believed in, even at the risk of his own wellbeing.”

“I have no memories of my parents; a fever took them away shortly after they gave me away to the man who raised me.” The warlock admits, “I don’t know what type of people they were, or even why they were running in the first place.” He shakes his head, ridding himself of the topic, “That doesn’t matter now. Why must you know his name?”

The Arch Druid places a rough palm on his shoulder and squeezes, “Because I believe this feeling you are experiencing is related to your blood.” He continues before Qifrey could ask why, “I believe that you are the last of the Dragonlords, Qifrey.”

—

Qifrey stomps through the rough forest terrain with a frustration that he had only ever felt when he was having a particularly hard time grasping a complex spell. The twigs snap violently underfoot as he thinks over the Arch Druid’s words.

“There are a few elders who can tell you more than I can, but this energy you feel is linked to your very blood- it might even be why your magic has been acting up in recent months.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? He grumbles, finally sitting on a fallen log sturdy enough to support his weight, “What does having Dragonlord blood have to do with my magic acting up?” It’s not like his blood is a new addition to his body- it’s been there for ages!

Nothing should have changed in himself to create his current issue. His magic has been with him since he could remember and he has had a control over it that was tied to his muscle memory- something he is forever grateful for, seeing as he would have had to learn control all over again if he didn’t have his instincts guiding him.

A nearby mushroom grows larger before wiggling- sending microscopic spores nearby before even more brown mushrooms grow around it. The faint green magic that hangs above their heads clues Qifrey in on why they were acting so strange. He groans and turns to instead face the other way.

“The conversation went that well, eh?” A teasing voice reaches his ears and he glances over to see the druid from before leisurely making his way over; flora shifting out from under his feet to make his journey quieter and smoother than Qifrey’s own was, “You shouldn’t venture too far this way; we have some creatures guarding the settlement nearby and they won’t recognize you as a friend.”

Olruggio plops down uninvited on Qifrey’s log and rests his chin in his hands while his elbows dig into his own legs, “What’s got you all grouchy?”

The warlock swallows thickly before turning his face away from the other man’s; his wide, kind eyes were making Qifrey’s chest tighten uncomfortably, “Nothing.” He deflects, eye finding a chipmunk foraging for nuts nearby to stare at. The critter stuffs some in its cheeks before scurrying up a tree- presumably to hide his loot away in his stash… kind of like a dragon.

Qifrey groans at his own thoughts and hides behind his hands, defeated. He wanted to learn more about his magic, yes, but this was a bit much. He only wished to know more so that he could continue his travels in peace. His hopes were to travel, visit Beldaruit every time he found himself missing him, and travel even further in search for an adventure like the ones from his favorite novels. He did not wish to raise dragons! He can’t be a father at eighteen summers! He can’t!

“Sure… totally looks like nothing to me.” The druid’s unimpressed voice draws Qifrey away from his palms and he glares from behind his lenses, “Hey! I’m just saying; if you need someone to vent to, then I’m here! No need to glare death at me.” His palms raise in a show of defense and Qifrey huffs at the fake innocent expression he sports.

“You just want gossip.” Plenty of people wished for the same back at his hometown, so he isn’t really shocked, but he kind of hoped this man was a bit different from them. A disappointed frown grows on his lips before he can catch it.

Olruggio shakes his head, “No! Actually, I just didn’t think that it would be good for you to keep all of that stuff bottled up all the time. It’s not good for you, you know? Especially for your magic.” He tilts his head to the side and moves his gaze to the obviously overgrown mushrooms behind the warlock, “If you wish to fix your wacky magic, then you need to deal with whatever you’re trying to avoid.”

Qifrey’s tense shoulder sag in defeat and he sighs, “I guess you have a point…” he rolls his eye when he catches the other’s smug grin, “But you have to swear not to go around sharing this information, all right?” He makes meaningful eye contact with Olruggio, face set in determination and sternness.

“I swear it!” The druid reaches out a pinkie and Qifrey hesitantly latches his own onto the other man’s. He’s so warm… Qifrey can feel himself blushing all the way to the tips of his ears at the thought and releases his grip on Olruggio’s hand as if burnt, “So, what made you so upset?”

The warlock looks down at the grass growing by his boots and moves his hands behind his head, bracing it as a form of grounding himself, “It appears that my magic has been leading me here because I’m a Dragonlord.” His cheeks pinken at the memory of him storming out of the cave in a flurry of robes and angst, “Your Arch Druid was going to explain why that matters, but I stormed off before he could finish.”

Olruggio’s small gasp is barely audible over the blood rushing to his ears and Qifrey begins to ramble, “I mean- I don’t even know if those exist! They could be myths for all I know! But your leader seems pretty serious about this, so I have to at least consider it… just…” He loses steam, shoulders sagging in defeat, “I didn’t want to be given such a responsibility this soon in my journey.”

Before his hands could grab onto his hair, Olruggio’s scarred palms reach out for his softer ones and gently removes them from his scalp, “Hey, don’t hurt yourself.” The druid’s voice was soft and he slowly moved into a kneeling position in front of the warlock, hands never moving from their place gripping his companion’s fingers, “You’ll go bald if you make a habit of pulling your hair out.”

Qifrey looks up from the grass and instead into the other man’s eyes, panic clear in the way his eye widens and his pupil constricts before he can take a few calming breathes, “S-Sorry…” He can feel the way Olruggio’s fingers play absentmindedly with his own and how it makes his heart grow still, “I just don’t like having such a responsibility thrust onto me… you know?” He looks down at their fingers and squeezes Olruggio’s back in silent thanks.

“I can relate…” The druid shifts nervously under Qifrey’s sudden attention at his words, “I dealt with a similar pressure at my old settlement.” He admits, “I don’t wish to talk more on it, but just know I can sympathize with how you might be feeling… expectations and pressure can be daunting- especially if it’s sudden.” He brightens before looking back up at his companion, “But, hey! At least we can figure this out together! I don’t have anything planned for today and you still need answers, so why don’t we go back and get some from the Arch Druid? Then you can sleep in my tent for the night, if you want to.”

Qifrey tenses at the suggestion and releases his hold on Olruggio before standing, “S-Sure.” Then he’s turning and going back the way he came, ignoring the druid’s shout at being left behind and the rusting of his shirts as he hurries to catch up with the warlock’s long strides.

—

The Arch Druid is where he last was when Qifrey had rudely ran off, but he is accompanied by a short old woman who held a dark wooden box in her wrinkled hands. Qifrey’s feet freeze in place when he catches sight of it; the energy immediately grabbing hold of his limbs and making him tense impossibly under it’s weight. Olruggio takes a few steps ahead of him before stopping and turning to regard Qifrey curiously, “What’s wrong?” He walks over and gently places a hand on his shoulder in a show of concern.

“What’s that?” He asks, raising a shaking finger to point at the closed box and drawing the elder’s attention. She has kind, wise eyes when she regards him, and her steps are slow as she approaches.

“This is an egg.” She answers, nodding to him with a respect he doesn’t feel as if he had earned, “One that was gifted to us by your father the last time he had visited. Said that he wished for us to keep it safe while he dealt with some business up north.” Her eyes soften at his clear trepidation, “You do not need to do anything with it for now, but it is yours to have.” Then her arms hold out the lacquered box, the limbs shaking a bit from the weight of it until Qifrey relieves her of the burden, “You look so much like your father.”

Her comment draws his gaze away from the box and back up to her face, a yearning he has grown to live with grabbing onto his heart like a vise, “I do?” His voice is much smaller than he meant for it to be and he clears his throat before trying again, “You’ve met him?”

Beldaruit had never actually met his parents. He had claimed that Qifrey showed up on his doorstep- dirty, starved, and injured- with nothing but a small, tattered pack and notes hidden in it’s seams. He had never met a man or woman with stark white hair outside of the elderly and he had never known of anyone with the same facial features as Qifrey. His parents were strangers who seemed to have chosen Beldaruit because he was well-loved and known to be generous with the children who thrived in his town.

So, when given the chance to know more about them, Qifrey almost feels like that shivering, starving boy waiting on the porch of a stranger’s home hoping for warmth and food. He craves for answers that have been out of his reach for nearly two decades now.

The woman places her hand on his hand that has been resting on top of the box and nods, “Of course; they visited a few times in search of information regarding dragon eggs and the Old Religion.” She smiles brightly at a memory, “Your mother was actually with child the last we saw her- I assume that must have been you. You have her eye color; the cold blue always warmed when you smile- very beautiful.”

Qifrey blushes bashfully, not used to being praised like this by an elder- especially not in regards to his eyes… or lack thereof. The energy within the box pulses impatiently and he nearly drops it when he remembers what’s inside, “Um- What do I do with this? I don’t know anything about dragon rearing- or hatchlings! Do I warm it?” His energy turns worried and frantic, clutching the box tightly to his chest as if to seek answers from the unhatched egg inside.

“You need to name them, and then they will hatch.” The elder responds, amusement dancing in the way her eyes sparkle and her smile turns crooked, “We have a few tomes on Dragonlords if you wish to read them. Your father left those with us, too, after handing over the egg. Might as well put them to use now that you’re here.”

Olruggio comes over to Qifrey’s side and places a heavy palm on his tensed shoulder once more, “Come on! I’m sure the little guy would like nothing more than to escape his shell!” The egg seems to agree, because the next magical pulse sends thunder up Qifrey’s arms and making them a bit numb, “Oh! I felt that one.” The druid laughs as he shakes out the hand that was resting on the warlock’s shoulder.

Qifrey worries at his bottom lip in thought before glancing apologetically towards the boxed egg, “I fear I don’t feel prepared to hatch them just yet…” He glances between the Arch Druid and the elder woman, “I’d like to read those books before anything else.”

With a nod from the two older druids, their little group moves further into the cave and under an archway, revealing a library with shelves carved into the stone walls and crystals growing out of the ceiling to provide just enough light to read book covers. Rock tables are also set up with carved chairs that Qifrey sets the box down on, hands hesitating before finally releasing their grip on the egg.

“Here.” The Arch Druid says, turning from a shelf and handing over a pile of books that lack covers, “He had written it all by hand himself, so everything should be factual.” He nods respectfully at the Dragonlord, “I need to go assist with some other matters, but you can come find me if you need anything else during your stay.” Then he was gone, green cloak fluttering behind him as he rounds into the hallway beyond the library.

“I need to check on the babes, so have Olly come get me if you need me.” The elder woman says, kind smile flashing for both men before she leisurely leaves after her leader.

The two men left behind take their seats at the stone table, one immediately opening one of the spell books and summoning a small orb of light to hang above their heads, and the other resting his stumbled cheek against his fist as his eyes curiously look at the box resting on the chair next to them. There were small ruins carved into the expensive wood and the box was in pristine condition; clearly, whoever was tasked with caring for it took great concern with how it was handled. He recognized the ruins as ones meant to conceal and shield, so he curiously reaches a finger out to poke at one of the carvings, only for the same shock he had felt before travel up his finger and to his shoulder- making him shout and nearly fall out of his chair in surprise.

Qifrey snaps his head up at the ruckus and raises a judgmental brow when he spots his companion’s disheveled state; half his butt was off the stone seat and his hair stood up slightly- like a startled cat’s fur. He feels a teasing grin spread across his lips and he states, “I don’t think she likes you much.”

The druid huffs, righting himself and glaring at the other man, “It was just the runes; that box is covered in protective carvings and concealment spells. The dragon is probably the one charging them after all these years being near them.” His eyes grow curious once more and he leans closer to the settled box, “I don’t know how my elder was able to hold it, though- I know she can’t be a Dragonlord.”

Olruggio reaches out to try and tap the box’s top before Qifrey swats his hand away, “Stop that.” He scolds, “She clearly doesn’t appreciate it.” He places his own palm on top of the lid and rubs his thumb on the cool wood.

The druid watches his movements curiously before humming, “What makes you think they’re a girl dragon?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at the box as if it will answer him if he stares hard enough.

“I’m not sure… just a feeling, I guess.” He turns back to the page he was on and keeps it open with one hand while the other holds up his forehead, “A lot of this Dragonlord business seems to stem from feelings, it seems.” He points at a line that Olruggio can’t quite see from his place on the other side of the table and he moves to Qifrey’s free side to see it better, “It says here that even finding the eggs before they’re ready to hatch is like finding a needle in a haystack. Apparently, they purposely get hidden to avoid getting stolen or damaged by hunters, but in the process they end up inadvertently making the lord’s job harder than it needs to be.”

Olruggio hums, “So, are you going to hunt for those eggs?” His voice isn’t quite sad, but Qifrey senses a bit of the feeling despite the inkling that sadness isn’t all there is to the druid’s tone, “Once you’ve learned enough, that is.”

The warlock glances to the box with hesitation and shakes his head, “I don’t have anywhere to keep them if I were to even find them- not if I wish to continue traveling.” He frowns, “I guess I’ll just wait for them to call me when they’re ready; no need to rush the natural process.”

The druid nods, leaning closer to read along with Qifrey in the silence that follows. The proximity should make Qifrey uneasy, seeing as the druid was still a stranger to him, but the man just finds himself leaning a bit closer to try and feel Olruggio’s warmth in the cold cave’s library. His eye still focuses on reading, though he can’t help but wonder if the druid even understands the various phrases written in an ancient tongue that even Qifrey was shocked to realize he instinctively understood. The words were written sharp and dark with the pressure his father put on his pen, leaving the ink pooling heavily in places.

“What’s that?” The druid asks, finger pointed to one such word, “I don’t think I’ve seen this word before.” He almost sounded frustrated by that fact.

“It’s just the name of the ritual to hatch a dragon egg, it translates to Naming Ceremony.” He continues reading the passage Olruggio was reading as the druid takes in that information.

“Naming Ceremony? Like when a baby gets dunked in water that a priest blesses?” The druid sounds rightfully confused, seeing as such a thing was fairly new and very few people practice it. If anything, you would think that a dragon’s Naming Ceremony would follow the Old Religion.

“Gods, no. This ceremony dates well before that. This ceremony is meant to just be done with close family and friends who wish to bless the dragon hatching- so, as their Dragonlord, I would obviously be there, seeing as I’m their kin.” He flips the page to one about how the hatchling will need their egg for emotional support after hatching.

Olruggio looks over at the box once more, but his expression is much less curious this time and more pensive, “Who else would you want to be there?” His tone suggests disinterest, but his reddening cheeks suggest otherwise before he turns them away from Qifrey’s view.

The warlock awkwardly clears his throat, eye trailing to the box and worrying his lip in thought, “Well… I’d probably invite your Arch Druid and elder, seeing as they have shown to be very trustworthy with her care.” He glances over to see the druid facing him again, guarded hope shining in his blue eyes, “And… I’m sure you would like to be there…” Qifrey feels his own cheeks pinken, “That is, I wouldn’t have even came back to the cave if not for your pushiness! I think that solidifies your invitation.” He turns his head away and tries to focus on the book again, “So, yeah.” He finishes lamely.

Gods, why am I acting like a blushing maiden?! I haven’t even known this guy longer than a day! His hand absentmindedly fiddles with his hair, eye tracking the words on the page below him without actually reading any of them, Sure, he’s handsome, but he’s still a stranger!

He had a crush when he was younger- a very kind boy who would deliver the mail to Beldaruit’s estate when it gathered at the post office. He was not unlike Olruggio, except he was tan and long-limbed, whereas Olruggio was pale and shorter than Qifrey. Both were kind, though, so he guesses he must have a type. The thought does not help with the blush that blooms anew on his face.

“I’d love to attend her Naming Ceremony.” Olruggio’s voice was soft and when Qifrey looks over, the druid’s face had also grown pink in the orb’s light. Both men study each other for a beat, their proximity making itself known when the warlock’s eye gets drawn to a faint scar peeking above the other man’s brow, it was buried under his black hair but still visible if one were looking hard enough. Or, in this case, close enough to see the way that small scar was a tad lighter than the skin surrounding it.

Just as he feels the druid’s puffs of air hitting his cheek, a slice of magic smacks him in the chest and makes him fall backwards off his seat, “Ow!” The following soft pulses of familiar magic seem almost like a laugh. His exposed eye glares up at the box sitting inconspicuous and innocent in it’s own chair, “I don’t think she likes waiting much.”

A shadow falls over his prone figure and Olruggio’s callus palm enters his vision in offering, which Qifrey takes gratefully before being hoisted up with barely any effort on his end. The butterflies that fly around in his stomach aren’t unwelcome at that knowledge, “Are you well? You didn’t hit anything, right?” The druid’s concerned eyes dart around the other man’s face and he grabs at the warlock’s jaw gently so he can tilt his head around in search of any cuts or bumps.

“I-I’m okay, Olly, thank you.” He steps back, gathering the books and then the box- which nearly falls when he tries juggling the many items- before Olruggio helps by taking the reading material off his hands.

“We can move to my tent; it’s quite chilly in here.” The druid seems to have left whatever that was behind them as he leads Qifrey back out of the cave system and to his tent.

It was a larger tent than Qifrey expected and he is slightly awed by the amount of bedding taking up corners and creating comfortable nooks that he assumes are used quite often when the tent’s owner simply places the books down next to the farthest corner pile before kicking over another lump of bedding to rest besides it, “Here- much more comfortable than those stone chairs.” He then plops down and gets back to reading.

Qifrey kicks off his shoes by the tent flap and slowly walks towards his corner cushions before resting the box down next to him, his back relaxing into the bedding supporting it. He grabs his own book to read and they lull into a comfortable silence.

It’s nearly sundown when someone knocks on the wooden beam supporting Olruggio’s tent, “Olly? Dinner is ready!” A woman’s kind voice calls before her footsteps fade away to announce dinnertime to the neighboring tents. Olruggio stands, book getting tossed onto his seat as he stretches.

Qifrey watches as the man’s cloak shifts to reveal his skirt and tunic; his belt holding his skirt up accentuating his waist and tunic barely tied at the top, revealing a hint of chest hair and collarbone. Qifrey scrambles to stand instead of inappropriately gawking at his friend and gently sets down his book before halfheartedly stretching out his own back. The egg pulses subtly as if to remind him of her existence and the warlock bends to gather her up, “Maybe we should hatch her after dinner?” The pulse of energy he receives in response is almost strong enough to make him giddy. Clearly, the egg would like to hurry things along now.

Olruggio stops adjusting his cloak to regard the Dragonlord seriously, “Are you sure? You’re not in any rush to do so now… surely the dragon can wait until you’re ready.”

Qifrey smiles gently and shakes his head, “No, I’m ready and she seems eager to escape her shell. The books have all summed up to just following my instincts, so I think I’ll be doing just that.”

His friend returns his smile, “After dinner, then.”

—

Dinner was a group affair that leaves Qifrey a bit frazzled, to say the least. He wasn’t used to group events- having lived with only Beldaruit and a handful of servants would do that to a person- and he was unsure of his place in the social groups already formed. Many were eager to speak with him, yes, though his short- but respectful- responses weren’t too inviting, so he found himself shadowing Olruggio during most of the night.

Olruggio was like a star; his bright nature attracted many eyes and many chatty people who would stop him whenever the chance arose, tugging at his bell sleeves or cloak as a way to pull him down to where they were seated just to share a few hushed words that made the druid blush before he was hustling Qifrey away to their seats.

The food itself was filling and delicious, of course. It was a potato stew that had a few cuts of beef throughout it, leaving Qifrey satiated and a bit tired. The occasional thrum of magic from his egg stopped his eyes from blinking too hard by reminding him of his plans once they were free to leave the table, so he plastered on a smile and focused on whatever conversation Olruggio was participating in with the couple across from him- something about a trip they plan to take to the nearby towns in hopes to find more fabrics before winter came.

The Arch Druid raises from his place at the head of the thick wooden table and raises his hands to stop all conversation without the need for words, “I would like to thank the people who had cooked our meals today and to thank the cow that had died for us to sleep with full stomachs tonight.” There was a wave of murmured agreements before the man continued, “I am also sure you have all realized that we have a guest joining us today- Qifrey the Dragonlord, who has come to reclaim his dragon egg and learn about his heritage.” Many heads turn to the one in white and he smiles awkwardly while cradling the wooden box close, “Tomorrow we will be celebrating not only the return of the Dragonlord, but also to the birth of a new dragon!”

Cheers erupted around the group- as much as druids are quiet and respectful, they do know when to use up that stored energy by clapping and whooping into the night air. Qifrey is left red in the face from embarrassment, but Olruggio’s reassuring grip on his shoulder grounds him in the moment and his smile slowly grows as the cheers settle once more.

“I’m sure the Dragonlord will have much to share with us at a later date, but for now, I think he would prefer to head off and do as he came here to do.” The Arch Druid bows to the young Dragonlord, making said man sweat a bit from the show of reverence, before standing upright again, “If you need anything, please ask.” Then he sits again, signaling the end of his speech and sending the group into separate conversations once more.

Qifrey releases a breath, happy to no longer be the center of attention. Olruggio’s hand squeezes his shoulder before he stands, “Ready?” The druid bends to whisper, a smile stretching his lips in anticipation of what is to come.

The Dragonlord stands and nods, “Ready.” He looks around and spots the elder from earlier, “Can we get your Arch Druid and elder? I’m sure they would appreciate being a part of this.”

Olruggio’s eyes take a far-away quality, almost fogging over, before he blinks and he’s back to regarding Qifrey with clear eyes, “No, the elderly are heading to bed soon and the Arch Druid wishes to stay here.”

“O-kay? How do you know?” He raises a brow, unsure of what to make of that entire display.

“Oh! I just asked. We can communicate using our minds- I can teach you how to do it later, if you want.” The druid gently grabs his elbow and leads then through the crowd, weaving easily past people until they reach the tree line, “Come, I know a place.”

The warlock follows silently, a bit dumbstruck to hear that druids can apparently speak to each other telepathically. His mind is still thinking about how such a spell would work when they finally enter an open space with a small lake sitting in the center of it. There were rocks spotting the shore and so they find a spot on a large, flat one.

The box is set on top of the stone and Qifrey’s fingers tremble with a mix of anticipation and worry as he unlatches the lid, the soft click of the metal being the only sound filling the space between the two men before he finally reaches in to grab hold of a cool sky blue shell. The shell was shaped like a teardrop and so it was a bit difficult to pull out of the box, but once it was fully freed from it’s confines, he can see the small wisps of white decorating it’s sides. The delicate swirl is beautiful and Qifrey finds himself entranced for a moment, eye taking in the subtle way the shell sparkles in the moonlight and the very air around it seems to come alive.

“Wow.” Olruggio’s voice reminds Qifrey that he is not alone and he glances up to see his friend’s awestruck face taking in the egg much like Qifrey’s own must have been, “I’ve never seen an egg like this before.”

The warlock adjusts his grip on the egg to support it’s weight as he extends it to his friend, “Want to touch?” He offers, a humorous smile stretching his face when the druid looks to him with unveiled shock, “What? I’m sure she doesn’t mind it.” A gust of wing tickles at the skin of his exposed wrist and he breathes a short laugh, “Go on, feel.”

Olruggio’s rough hands are gentle when they finally reach out, fingers dancing over the egg and tracing it’s white wisps before he finally reaches Qifrey’s own fingers at the bottom of it. His hold is light and hesitant before he looks away from the egg and to the other man, “What’s her name?”

Magic ignites in his throat; a tickling sensation that almost feels like he could cough from it, before he finally speaks. The word is breathed into the wind and he can’t help the feeling that the name is the very wind itself. His tone is deep and would be a growl if he spoke any louder, but with the way he breathes, it comes out as more of a purr.

“Sirocco.” The reaction was immediate; the shell’s blue cracks to reveal the dark inside, slowly opening to help emerge the small dragon pecking at it from within. The small pieces of shell litter the rock’s surface and the very top of it pops of, only to land safely on the dirt below the men’s feet. A dragon’s silver head pops out of the hole created and she chirps like a bird at the sight of her Dragonlord.

It’s silent as the men take in the creature sitting in their palms before Olruggio breaks out into shocked laughter, “Wow! Look at her; she’s beautiful!” The druid helps Qifrey set down the egg gently as to not damage it and the dragon clumsily wiggles her way onto the stone below her, landing with a soft thump before her softened nails work to claw up Qifrey’s cloak and around his neck, before immediately falling asleep in the warmth found there.

“And tired, apparently.” Qifrey teases the resting hatchling, finger reaching up to pet the cool scales on her forehead. Her nose was more of a beak, much like that of a bird, and she had a few tiny horns not yet ready to grow out of her scales yet. She purrs at the attention, body going even more lax on his shoulders and he can’t help the soft grin that must make him look like a fool, “I didn’t expect her to like me so quickly.”

Olruggio’s own grin makes him look gentle under the moonlight, “Why not? I got to liking you the moment I saw you.” His bold words make Qifrey blush and he bashfully looks down at the dragon’s small tail where it rests on his chest, “Let’s head back, I’m sure you’re tired too from your journey here.”

Both men rise and Olruggio quickly gathers the eggshell for Sirocco before leading their way back to the settlement, easily weaving them past various tents and temporary buildings before stopping at his own and lifting the flap for Qifrey to enter through. His hand waves as he mutters a spell and glowing candles hover above their heads as they traverse around the bedding still littering the floor. He stops beside a large pile of blankets held up by a wooden bed frame and gestures to it, “You can take the bed, I’ll rest on my floor bedding.”

Qifrey shakes his head, “I can’t do that, this is your bed.” He steps away from the frame and looks around for the pile he was sitting on earlier before the druid gently grabs his wrist and pulls him closer to the bed once more.

“Nonsense; I’ve slept on the floor plenty, it wouldn’t be any hardship to do so again.” He widens his eyes and wrinkles his brows in a nonverbal plea, “Please, I insist.”

Finding himself unable to say no to such an expression, Qifrey dumbly plops down on the bed frame and accepts the broken shell from Olruggio, “Thank you, Olly.”

The sincerity in his words makes Olruggio turn to regard him with soft eyes, “Of course.” Then he mutters another spell and the candles turn into stars dim enough for sleep, but bright enough to see where they walk, “Anything for you.”

—

The next morning began slowly; the sun’s rays bled through the fabric that made up the tent and warmed up Qifrey’s body, drawing him nearer to wakefulness. His hand moves to rub at his face, but he feels something wrapped around his wrist, causing him to freeze and his eye to blink open. A small dragon face stares back at him, a small coo escaping it’s beaked mouth and gently poking at his chin in greeting.

Sirocco’s tail that was gripping his wrist releases it’s hold, only to instead wag in joy at being the center of Qifrey’s attention, her body wiggling and her wings fluttering before she pounces at his face- causing him to yelp and move to sit up.

The hatchling tries to grip onto his hair, but her weak nails simply slip through the strands before she plops into his lap, a small oof escaping her lips upon impact. Her body struggles to right itself because of her opened wings and Qifrey can’t help but laugh softly as he helps her onto her stomach.

“Mornin’ Qifrey.” A gruff voice calls from below, Olruggio’s bedhead coming into view as the man sits up, “Oh! good morning to you, too, Sirocco.” He holds out a hand in offering towards the dragon and she nudges it with her nose, encouraging Olruggio to pet her nose bridge with his knuckles. Her purr fills the quiet morning air and Qifrey nearly closes his eye to fall back asleep, but instead rubs at his face to better wake himself up.

“Morning, Olly.” Qifrey greets before finally throwing his legs off the side of the bed frame, socked feet meeting the hard tent floor, “I hope you slept well.” He feels guilty for taking the bed, but he also isn’t sure how to resolve the issue without them both ending up in the same bed- which, he doesn’t mind as much as he probably should, but he wouldn’t want to make Olruggio uncomfortable if he can help it.

The druid hums before standing, stretching and glancing over, “The wash basin fills with water when you charge the ruin on the side of the wood, so don’t worry about grabbing any water buckets. I’ll be assisting with breakfast this morning, so you’ll have some privacy before I come back to get you.” He bends to grab his cloak that he had throw to the side the night before and fastens it before slipping on his shoes, “I assume you already know how to heat up water..?”

Qifrey nods, “It was the first thing I remember learning; I didn’t like waiting for the servants to heat up the water.” He stands and grabs his pack, digging for his soap and extra robes, “Don’t worry about me.”

Olruggio takes his leave not long after that and Sirocco crawls to her shell to curl up in there while Qifrey gets ready for his bath. His mind wanders as the activated rune slowly pools water into the tub. He wonders how long he would need to wait to leave, seeing as Sirocco was too young and small to hunt for her own food, thus he would have to provide meat for her while she grows. The books state that her nails wouldn’t be hard enough to do any real damage to her prey until she was at least a month old, so they’ll likely be staying in the settlement until then- unless Sirocco grows quicker than expected.

The hatchling was only the size of his arm at this moment, her wings are still clumsy, and she has no skill in hunting. All things that can be fixed within a month’s time. He still wasn’t sure how he would be teaching her how to hunt, but he’s sure he can find a druid who was skilled in it to give him some pointers- if they wished to, that is. He wonders briefly if Olruggio knew how to hunt, but almost immediately shakes that thought away; Olruggio seemed to be a skilled magic user, but he did not seem to have the build of someone who hunted. So, his next course of action will be finding someone who was a hunter.

His muscles relax as he lowers himself into the warm water and he sighs in relief. His mind drifts to other topics- like how Olruggio’s hair that morning looked very silly sticking up in odd places and how his eyes hadn’t stopped squinting as if the day had already betrayed him by being so bright. His sleep clothes were just a simple skirt and an unlaced tunic- which did nothing for Qifrey’s little crush- and when he stretched, his stomach peeked out from the bottom of the shirt. The water surrounding Qifrey spiked in heat and he yelped, suddenly brought back to the present and rushing through his bathing routine before he could embarrass himself even more.

Breakfast was a very calm affair compared to dinner the night before; the groups that formed were sleepy and the words they spoke were soft. A few people snatched a quick meal before heading off to take care of some business elsewhere, while others slumped into their seats and slowly ate their meals whilst trying not to fall asleep in their bowls. Qifrey was wide awake after his too-hot bath and so he was sat straight and feeding cuts of meat to Sirocco, who happily ate them from where she was wrapped round his shoulders. Her chirps of content were drawing the attention of some children nearby, who quickly made their way to Qifrey’s spot at the table.

“Is that a real dragon?!” A little boy starts, his green eyes wide with awe as he stands on his toes to get a closer look. Sirocco glances over and releases a short hum in her chest, her neck rising to full height and wings rustling to show off a bit.

The children ooh and aww approvingly and she simply preens at the attention she’s being given. Qifrey can’t help but chuckle at the show, “Yes, and her name is Sirocco- a silver dragon.” Said dragon puffs up her chest before breathing a plum of smoke, heating up the side of Qifrey’s face and making him cough slightly, “Hey, none of that.” He reprimands, poking the creature’s nose before scooping a spoonful of porridge into his own mouth.

“She’s so pretty!” A girl says, her little hands grasping his chair’s arm rest so she can safely lean past the boy in her way, “Her scales are so shiny!” Sirocco crawls clumsily down his arm to sit on the wooden table before them, tail wrapped around her feet and head lowering so she can be better viewed by the little children. She cooed when the little girl reached out to pet; her touch gentle and kind.

“Now, now children!” A middle-aged woman comes over, her arms already full of two toddlers and face pink with embarrassment, “Don’t go around bothering the Dragonlord! You’re meant to be eating, not causing a disturbance!” She glances apologetically at Qifrey while the children reluctantly follow her orders, “Apologies, they are too energetic this early in the day.” Then she was gone, cloak fluttering in the morning breeze as children grip at her skirts and clutch at her arms.

“That’s Mary, she takes care of the children with a few others while everyone else tends to their own duties.” Olruggio’s voice chimes in from his other side. Sirocco, very much saddened by her admirers being rudely taken from her, sulks at Qifrey’s elbow until he hands her a cut of beef.

“She seems kind.” He states, turning to regard Olruggio, “What do you do, anyways? You never said.” The warlock hands another cut of meat to Sirocco while he waits for his answer.

“I carve items for the folks who don’t know how to.” The druid bashfully scratches at the back of his neck, “I’m not too good at healing magic, so I had to find something else to be good at. Fire isn’t needed outside of cooking and many druids are better at making potions and creams, so I have been tasked with creating things that can help make everyone’s lives easier.” He seems to be lost in thought before coming back to the conversation, “I can show you my workshop later, if you’d like.”

Qifrey smiles brightly back, hand idly petting the dragon who was growing bored, “I’d love to see where you work, Olly.”

—

Olruggio’s workshop was in a shed behind the temporary building set up near the settlement’s borders. It was small, but had enough room for two tables, a chair and space for the two men to stand comfortably. The ceiling was decorated by a projection of stars that came from a glass ball resting on a wooden bowl that had runes carved inside of it that gave the illusion life. Olruggio walks over to strengthen it with some tendrils of magic from his fingertips, bringing more light to the small space.

Sirocco chirps before crawling to Qifrey’s forearm, where he promptly holds her steady. She flaps her wings a bit before weakly taking flight, the effort put into reaching the star illusions was clear and she soon comes back down to clumsily land back on Qifrey’s arm, “It’s okay, Sirocco. You’ll get to flying high in no time.” The Dragonlord soothes when she huffs and sags down until her head was being held up by his palm.

“Seems she likes the stars.” Olruggio comments, waving his hand with a muttered spell that immediately summons a galaxy around the room. It was low enough to encase the three in it’s hold and Sirocco purrs in delight as a shooting star shoots past her head.

“Thank you, Olly.” Qifrey smiles softly at the other man and feels a thrill travel down his spine when the druid bashfully looks away with reddened cheeks, “So, this is where you work?”

“Yes, I just carve runes into weapons and everyday items- like the tub you used this morning.” He turns to his workstation and lazily pushes aside the cluster of stars that now cover it, “It’s tiring when everyone’s magical items suddenly don’t work anymore, but I like it enough to keep re-carving when needed.” He turns back to his friend and holds out a palm-sized stone, “This is my recent invention. It’s meant to warm up your bed so that you don’t have to risk burning your sheets with warming pans. I’m trying to find a way to harness the ambient magic surrounding us instead of needing a magic user to fuel it.”

Olruggio offers the stone to Qifrey and he inspects it closely, rotating the small stone in his palm and admiring the detailed carvings, “And it will heat up the entire bed? All night?” The warlock hands the invention back to it’s creator and pets at Sirocco’s horns when she begins to fidget.

“Yup! It should also be small enough to carry in a person’s pocket, too, so travelers have warmth during the fall and winter seasons.” The druid turns back to his workstation and grabs a carving tool before making a few adjustments, “This one is the final product and I’ll be showing it to the Arch Druid before the weather changes.”

“It’s wonderful, Olly.” Qifrey’s words are genuine and said with wonder, “I never knew runes could be used in such a way; I’ve always seen them on weapons and cuffs, so seeing them used in a way to provide comfort is a nice change. I’ve done something similar with my adoptive father’s chair. I used movement runes and some enchanted string to allow him to move around freely once his illness got worse.”

He remembers when he had presented the gift to his father; his body was weakening from being bound to his bed for so long and his skin had paled considerably from being away from the sun’s shine for the months it took Qifrey to finish his project. The town’s doctor had said to Qifrey in private that his invention would not only help with all those issues, but it would also give his father enough will to continue living. Qifrey never thought of it in such a way, but he was sure if he was bound to his mattress for months at a time, then he would probably rot away from the lack of hope.

Of course, now his father was just as jubilant as he ever was, and he even got to visit the town in person with the help of his carriage adapting to carrying his chair to wherever he went. The combination of sunshine and socializing with his people did much to alleviate his symptoms- both mentally and physically. He will never be able to walk again, but at least he can still move around with the chair.

“That’s amazing!” Olruggio’s voice breaks Qifrey out of his trance and he is met with the image of the man’s bright grin and widened eyes, “Can you tell me more about it? What runes did you use? How did you enchant the thread? Did it matter what type of wood you used?”

The men settled into a back-and-forth conversation about their respective inventions, voices excited and heads tilted closer as they both skimmed over tombs on runes and then note paper that slowly filled with their various ideas. Qifrey has never felt so seen before- never felt so comfortable in another’s company just by simply talking about a shared interest.

His father tried to show interest in Qifrey’s magical studies, but after finding that Beldaruit had no magical ability of his own, he had dimmed a bit the more Qifrey brought it up. He loved showy spells and loved to see Qifrey’s happiness, but he clearly still gets hung up about the thought of never joining his own son in his magical journey. The other people in the village he grew up in respected him because he was the ward of their mayor, but they never seemed comfortable with his magic, so he was usually left to his own devices; holing himself away in his study or by the tree line practicing spells found in old spell books Beldaruit had procured for him.

So, having someone of similar talent and interest was exhilarating, to say the least. He caught himself smiling like a fool multiple times before there was a knock at the shed’s door, announcing the arrival of a woman inviting them to have lunch.

The table was more lively now that people have woken up after this morning and Qifrey finds himself growing comfortable in the energetic environment. His smile never left his face even when elders would approach to share some insight on his duties as a Dragonlord and he didn’t even flinch when a child had suddenly grabbed his sleeve to show him their spell that summoned small puffs of glitter in their palms.

Sirocco gobbled down her bowl of meat and moved herself to take a midday nap around Qifrey’s neck, clearly unbothered by the surrounding chaos and simply content with resting after a filling meal. His own meal was warm and delicious, of course, and he ended up getting roped into a conversation involving Olruggio and another man with red hair, “Ello, I’m Utowin.” The man greets, smile bright and inviting, “I heard from Olly that you don’t know a thing about hunting?” Qifrey shoots a look of betrayal to his friend before nodding at the other druid, “Well, I can help you learn enough to teach your dragon, if you’d like.”

“That would be greatly appreciated, yes.” Qifrey responds, nodding to the man in thanks, “When would you like to start?”

“How about tomorrow? The hunting party will need to head out in the morning to be back in time for dinner.” Utowin gestures to a group of men talking animatedly down the table, “We’ll be leaving after we break fast, so make sure you’re there or we’ll be heading out without you.”

“I’ll be there.”

—

The next morning was slow as the sun rose above the horizon. Sirocco refused to stay with Olruggio while Qifrey learned about hunting, so she was currently wrapped around the warlock’s throat as he packed a bag containing extra waterskins and provisions just in case they stayed out later than expected.

Olruggio was still sat on the floor of his tent, eyes squinting as he watches Qifrey check his bag for the third time, “Qifrey, I’m sure the hunting party has anything you’ll need. There’s no need to over pack.”

The druid’s voice was groggy and sent a wave of warmth to Qifrey’s cheeks from the domesticity of it all, before he sighed and tied the pack closed, “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He makes sure to mindfully adjust the straps on his shoulders before throwing on his cloak, effectively covering the baby dragon in more warmth. It was a very cool morning, so he’s sure the coldblooded reptile would appreciate the gesture.

“I’m always right.” Olruggio teases, sending a cheeky wink Qifrey’s way that makes the warlock huff and lightly kick the other man’s crossed legs, “Ouch, how cruel of you to beat a tired young man with so much life ahead of him!”

“Shut it.” Qifrey laughs, “I’m heading out, make sure not to burn down the tent while I’m away!” He hears a grunt of assent before the tent flap closes and he’s walking away to meet up with his hunting group by the fire pit.

Utowin seems bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, even this early in the morning, and he quickly approaches Qifrey as he nears, “Dragonlord! Very good to see that you’ve finally made it.” His scarred hand comes to pat him on the shoulder roughly before steering them to follow the party that had just begun to march toward the tree line, “We’ll be hunting for deer today, so you’ll be learning how to shoot a bow.” He wiggles the weapon that currently sits on his shoulder, “I’m not sure how much help that would be for your dragon friend, though.”

Qifrey reaches up to idly pet at Sirocco’s beak as it peeks out of his cloak’s collar, “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

The walk was quiet after that as their feet silently take them deeper into the thick forest surrounding the druid settlement. It was a peaceful silence; frogs can be heard from the nearby lake and birds are heard singing high up in the trees they walk under. Qifrey can hear the faint sounds of a stream nearby and can feel the surrounding flora reaching to graze his hands as he passes.

His magic had calmed after hatching Sirocco out of her egg, but it seems that nature has other plans with the way it readily brushes against his skirts and sleeves, the ambient magic wishing to be used by his steady hands once more. Sirocco’s purr alerts him to her waking up and he reaches up to pet her once more, his good eye searching for any signs of deer nearby.

“Psst.” A man hisses for Utowin’s attention, pointing at a print left in some softened dirt next to the trail, “It’s fresh.” The druid whispers, words barely heard over bird song.

Utowin’s shoulders straighten and he moves silently through the group of hunters, reaching where the tracks appeared and slowly leading the group to follow it. His hand reaching down to stop the faint rattle of his arrows and his eyes tighten as he focuses on tracking. He looked like a predator on the prowl and Qifrey wonders if Sirocco will look half as intimidating as this man had become, once she becomes a good enough hunter.

They reach a small clearing, where Utowin pauses and slowly shifts his bow off of his shoulder, the hand that was holding his arrows still moves skillfully to grab one and notches it, posture sure and confident as he takes a deep inhale.

Sirocco’s high-pitched caw cuts through the tension like a razor-sharp knife and Utowin’s exhale was rough from the shock, causing the arrow to zip by the startled deer’s hide and into a nearby tree’s bark. Qifrey’s right ear takes a moment to stop hurting before he turns his head down to reprimand his hatchling, “Sirocco! What was that for?”

The dragon crawls from her pocket of warmth and instead moves to Qifrey’s awaiting forearm, head tilted down in a show of respect as her lord grows disappointed, “That was very rude of you. Why did you shout?” He can feel the eyes of his hunting party, but he ignores their curious gazes to instead focus on getting answers from the misbehaving hatchling.

Sirocco chirps and her reptilian eyes flash, revealing a memory to Qifrey. His ears hear approaching footsteps from the very recent past and several men speaking to each other in hushed tones.

His mind comes back to the present and he frowns, realization dawning and he turns to the awaiting group of druids, “Someone is approaching.” The sound of footsteps are easier to hear once he was looking for them and he closes his eye to focus on his perception spell, his mind reaching to reveal a group of bandits, “Bandits, it seems.” He relays, pushing his spell farther so he can hear their words.

“How do you even know that they have it?” One was saying, his facial scar dragging from his ear to his mouth, “And what do you even plan on doing against magic users?”

The man who appeared to be their leader scoffs, “You heard the druid- they’ve been hiding it for decades now, of course it’s still there.” He looks down and Qifrey looks too, revealing clear signs of his hunting group’s tracks off the trail- bushes pushed aside and boots pressed into wet earth, “And besides, we have the druid with us; he’ll be able to defend us against spells and such.” The leader shrugs with an unearned confidence.

“They’re following our trail. Said they were given a tip by a druid about something your group was hiding and that they plan on taking it by force.” Qifrey mutters, ears deaf to any response that could have been made as he continues to use his spell.

“I-I don’t think I can handle a whole settlement!” The man- boy, really- squeaks from the middle of their group, “And it will be the whole settlement if you really plan to take the dragon egg!”

The spell ends and Qifrey’s eye takes a moment to gain sight again as he gasps, “They wished to steal the egg.” The warlock turns to face the group, Sirocco chirping in distress from her perch on his arm, “There’s about ten of them, plus the druid they brought with them.”

Utowin was quick to reach Qifrey’s side, eyes hardening with determination, “Then we fight. We can’t let them reach the settlement.” His bow was back around his chest as he shakes out his hands, head turning the way they came, “I know some defensive spells, do you?” He glances Qifrey’s way for an answer.

“Of course.” Qifrey sends a reassuring smile the hunter’s way before placing Sirocco onto a branch that reached out to Qifrey’s outstretched arm, “Stay here. I will be right back.” He didn’t feel the need to use his Voice, seeing as the little dragon was already hiding behind the leaves that begin to shield her body, “Good girl.”

He then turns to Utowin and they make their way back down the way they had came, flanked by two other druids that knew how to defend themselves, “The druid didn’t seem too confident in his own magic, so I probably wouldn’t worry too much about him.” Qifrey comments.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a good fighter or not; he’s still a traitor and a threat to the settlement.” Utowin insists, eyes flashing gold as he grows agitated, “People like that do not deserve to call themselves druids.” The venom in his voice shocks Qifrey into silence as they neared the still-chattering group of bandits, “I’ll take on the leader, you three take on as many as you can handle.”

The first attack came from Utowin, his wall of stone shooting towards the unsuspecting group and causing them to separate. Qifrey hurries after who he knows to be the druid and the three other men who ran with him, hands outstretched as he mutters spells. Water draws from the forest floor and wraps around their ankles, freezing and causing them to trip pathetically. Qifrey calls upon roots next and ties the three bandits’ wrists to the ground, leaving the druid’s hands trembling and struggling to free himself from the ice shackles holding his ankles hostage.

“Please! Stop!” He cries, the druid’s brown eyes watering and looking towards Qifrey beseechingly, “Why are you doing this?!” He asks, desperate for Qifrey to answer him.

“You came for the dragon egg, yes?” He asks, jaw clenching as he stares down at the man as he nods shakily, “Then, that is why I am doing this.” He didn’t like fighting; he’s always felt like words are best used to settle most issues- but when people’s lives are in danger, he finds it difficult to feel any remorse in resorting to more… drastic measures.

“But you’re not a druid!” He accuses, his pathetic display of defeat turning to defensive anger, “Why do you care?!”

Before the druid could even speak his spell, a creature flies swiftly by, cutting his cheek and leaving a heavily bleeding gash in it’s wake. Sirocco caws loudly before swooping back down to cut the man’s arms with her weak claws, the tan tunic he wore quickly turning a dark red in multiple places.

“Sirocco!” Qifrey calls, extending his arm to allow her to perch easily on his forearm, “I told you to stay put.” He chastises, brows furrowed in disapproval and worry, “Are you okay?” His fingers are gentle as he checks over her wings and face. Her claws looked like they didn’t take any damage, miraculously.

Her chirps are nearly purrs as she receives attention; clearly pleased with herself. Qifrey huffs in defeat before softly petting her beak, “We will be speaking more about this when we get back.” He warns, but he can’t help the small approving smile from gracing his features.

“Y-You’re-” The druid’s voice shakes as he speaks, arms crossing so he can apply pressure to his wounds, “You’re a Dragonlord?!” His voice cracks, whole body trembling in fear as the three other bandits stare at the display in shock and awe, “But you’re all dead!”

His head snaps to fully regard the druid, “Pardon?” He asks sharply, quickly depositing Sirocco onto his shoulder so that both hands are free for him to use his magic more efficiently, “Mind saying that again?”

“What?” The man’s voice wobbles, shrinking in on himself as Qifrey takes a few steps towards his position on the ground, “You don’t know?”

The warlock glares viciously, “No, I do not know why you believe this to be true. Care to explain why you’re so sure in the fact that my kin are all dead?” He knows his father has been dead, but he didn’t know that all Dragonlords were considered dead. He had always considered them myth- until he had found out he was one- but that doesn’t mean he had no hope of there being more of his kind out there. The thought of having nobody to share such a burden with is terrifying, to say the least, so he would very much like to know why this young man is so confident in his words.

“They all d-died years ago. W-We thought it might have been Kalhn soldiers or knights, but a lot of them died from magic- or, that’s what my mom said, anyways.” The ice holding him melts, only to be replaced by thick stone, “Hey! I answered your questions!” When he reached for the earth, it simply grabbed at his wrists, chaining them to his ankles and unable to use his magic to free himself. The druid struggles with the bindings, but his shouts fall of deaf ears as Qifrey’s mind wanders.

Magic users killed his parents? Took his eye? Sirocco chirps sorrowfully in his ear and he shakes his head, hand reaching up to reach under his blackened lens to subconsciously rub at the jagged scar, Magic users hunted them down? Why? How?

“-ifrey! Qifrey!” A voice shouting his name draws him from his spiral, his eye focusing on the red headed man before him, “There you are.” The heavy hand that falls onto his shoulder is unwanted and he quickly moves so it slips off, “You need to calm down; we still need the boy for questioning.”

Utowin moves to the side so Qifrey can see what he had done while lost in his mind. The druid was now nearly covered completely by skin-tight stone, his body lacking any room to free himself, and the three bandits only had their mouths and noses freed from their own stone casts. Shocked and horrified, Qifrey’s magic immediately releases the four prisoners and he gasps, “Sorry, sorry!” He apologizes, replacing the bindings on their hands with strong vines instead, “I-I think I need to head back.”

Not waiting for an answer, Qifrey turns and leaves as quickly as he could without tripping.

—

He’s sitting on the bed in Olruggio’s tent when the druid finds him with his face in his hands and Sirocco chirping mournfully with her head in his lap, “I heard about the bandits.” The man starts, “That must have been pretty scary.” His steps are hesitant when he nears and he plops down ungracefully when he finally reaches the bed, “You know, I’ve been in a similar situation when I was a teenager.”

The admission makes Qifrey sit up and remove his hands, turning to face the druid better. His face is a mask of concern and his lips are morphed into an uncharacteristic frown, “Really?”

Olruggio smiles sadly and nods, “Yeah, a group of bandits attacked my old settlement while I was out foraging for herbs. I came back to them already having begun the attack and all I could do was try and fight the nearest one with meager defense spells.” His smile flattens out and he sighs, “As you can probably guess, I didn’t do much damage, and one of the men I hadn’t seen behind me snatched me up and left me in a pile of other chained up druid. Those iron cuffs chafe like no other, let me tell you.”

They lull into a silence and the druid grabs a flask from his belt, taking a sip before offering it to Qifrey, who also takes a sip. They pass the drink back and forth for a moment before they’re left relaxed and lounging on the plush bedding, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Olly.” Qifrey says as they stare at each other, “Nobody deserves to go through that type of trauma.”

Olruggio snaps the empty flash back onto his belt and he shrugs, “Well, it’s the past now, so I might as well focus on the now.” He lays a hand over Qifrey’s hand that sits in the space between them, “And right now you’re clearly not doing well.”

The warlock looks down at their hands and smiles sadly, “The druid said that the Dragonlords before me were hunted by magic users… is that true?” He looks up at Olruggio’s frowning face.

The silence stretches for a moment before he finally receives an answer, “I don’t know much about it, but yes. I thought the Arch Druid would have told you about it when he spoke with you the first time… but I guess not.” His free hand reaches to scratch at his stubble in thought, “They said that the people hunting Dragonlords are a group of Wicked Sorcerers who wished to use their Dragonlord magic for dark rituals. Some speculate that they were envious of your kin’s control over dragons and tried to harness it for themselves using blood and such.” He cringes at his words, “Apologies; that was a bit much.”

“No. I needed to hear it.” The warlock reaches up to remove his glasses and run his fingers through his hair to uncover his missing eye, “That at least explains my eye being stolen, but I don’t know what type of spell would call for a child’s eye- especially when I wasn’t even a Dragonlord then.”

Olruggio’s eyes soften as he takes in this new part of his friend, his hand reaching out to touch before stopping, “May I?” At Qifrey’s nod, he finally runs his fingertips over the scar before cupping the side of Qifrey’s head, thumb rubbing softly at the discoloration, “Beautiful.” He mutters, voice quiet and meant just for them. His cheeks pinken and Qifrey and feel his own do the same as he stares back at the druid in awe.

He’s never had anyone call his scar beautiful before. Beldaruit found it to be saddening and had asked many questions about if it hurts Qifrey, but other than that, he rarely wished to look closer at it. The boy who delivered their mail had looked queasy the one time he had caught sight of it and the townsfolk seemed to be repulsed by either the idea of someone doing that to a child or by the fact that Qifrey had originally not minded it being out in the open. He had only gotten the spectacles when his vision began to worsen and decided then to blacken out the side that housed his scar after the pitying gazes became too much.

So, to have someone say that his scar was beautiful of all things was a shock to his system, while also being immensely flattering. Especially when this complement came from Olruggio of all people.

“Thank you.” Qifrey whispers back, hand reaching to grasp at the druid’s wrist and sending his fringe back down to cover his scar once more, “I don’t usually show it off because it usually makes others uncomfortable, but I’m glad you find it to be the opposite.”

Olruggio smiles, “I don’t think I could ever find any part of you uncomfortable to look at, Qifrey.”

They lapse back into a silence that was peaceful, their breathes mingling in the space between them and eyes roving over the other’s expression as they gravitate towards each other like magnets, hearts thumping violently as their noses briefly touch. Qifrey begins to close his eye when there is a polite knocking at the pole outside Olruggio’s tent.

The druid groans in defeat and reluctantly releases Qifrey’s cheek before standing to answer, hand dragging the flap open with a bit more force than necessary, “Yes, Utowin?” His voice was a bit petulant and Qifrey can hear Utowin laugh from where he stands outside.

“No need to be so grumpy, Olly! I’m just here to ask if the Dragonlord wishes to join us again for a hunt.” Qifrey stands to make his own way to the opening and Utowin turns his grin towards him, “Qifrey! Would you like to finish the hunt, or are you done for the day?”

Sirocco flaps her wings and flies over to land on Qifrey’s shoulder, chirping in response, “I think Sirocco has shown that she can handle her own in a fight, so I’m confident that we won’t need to join in your hunting trips anymore, Utowin, but thank you for your help.”

The hunter nods and bows a bit in respect, “No problem, please do come find me if you need me!” Then he nods to Olruggio before laughing and leaving again.

Olruggio blinks a bit before grumbling and shutting the tent flap once more, “Nosy druids.”

“Aren’t you also a nosy druid?” Qifrey teases, rotating his shoulder once Sirocco takes off from it and goes to curl up in her empty egg shell.

“Yes, but at least I know when to leave well enough alone.” He turns to regard Qifrey critically, “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.” To prove himself, the warlock smiles brightly and summons a stem of bluebells, “Here, for making me feel better.” His hand is quick to tuck the buds behind the druid’s red ear.

Olruggio delicately touches behind his ear and smiles back, mood brightening subtly, “Thank you, Qifrey.” His eyes flash gold and a green magic settles into the flowers, ensuring they do not wilt.

—

The next week of staying in the druid settlement saw Qifrey training Sirocco in flight and trying to get her to breathe fire. He and Olruggio had read through the books containing Dragonlord knowledge and came to the conclusion that she would be safe to leave on her own the moment her claws hardened and she could breathe fire on command. This would ensure that she can defend herself easily and that she can hunt more efficiently. Qifrey’s own magic had long since settled and reverted back to it’s usual calm not long after the disastrous hunt he took part in, which meant that he was free to leave and finish raising Sirocco while traveling- if he wished to.

He did not wish to. He liked waking up in the morning to the sound of Olruggio’s snores, he liked creating things with Olruggio in his tiny shed- even if the stool he had made out of magic was uncomfortable on his behind, he liked hearing Olruggio’s loud laughter when Qifrey would make a quiet remark at the dinner table- drawing curious and knowing eyes alike. He liked it here. Or, he liked Olruggio.

The men had found themselves experiencing several close calls during his stay, many being halted either by a well-meaning druid or by the hatchling he was raising causing a ruckus too distracting to ignore. Qifrey often finds himself wondering what could have been if they were just left alone long enough to finally close the distance between them.

The longer Qifrey thinks about it, the more the thought of Olruggio being someone he’s barely just met doesn’t matter. The longer Qifrey yearns, the closer he inches towards doing something reckless- like smashing their lips together at dinner, uncaring of who sees, begins to sound like a god idea. The longer Qifrey wants, the more he wonders if he should crate distance.

His emotions are so frazzled that he finds himself going on quiet walks around the settlement when he should be resting. The darkness isn’t an issue as he mutters a spell for night vision and his steps are soft enough to not disturb the resting druids nearby. He wasn’t expecting company- so, when the Arch Druid himself comes to walk beside him without even a whisper of his cloak announcing his approach, Qifrey jumps before his eye adjust to the image next to him.

The man was calm and seemed to be content with walking in silence, as he hasn’t said even a hello, and his eyes face the way they are walking. His hands were hidden under his dark green cloak and he only glances over after a few silent seconds of Qifrey staring at him dumbly.

“Hello, Arch Druid.” Qifrey whispers, “What are you doing up?”

“I should be asking you that.” He teases, “Young men like you need your rest, you know? Your minds have not yet stopped growing and your bodies need to recharge after long days of inventing.”

“I know…” Qifrey’s hands begin to fidget together as he faces forwards once more, “I can’t seem to get my mind to settle.” He admits, huffing at his inability to rest.

“What is it that has you thinking so much?” Even as he asks, Qifrey can sense that he must already know. The man wasn’t known for his subtlety and Qifrey has caught his knowing gaze many times during dinner.

“It’s just…” He might as well ask for assistance, if the older man already knew, “I don’t know what to do about… Olly.” His voice grows quieter, “Or really, my feelings about Olly. I need to go and continue my journey, but I also wish to stay here with him. That’s not even considering the fact that I would wish to head back to my father one of these days.”

“Why not bring Olruggio with you? Have you asked him?” The Arch Druid looks over, a patient curiosity in his expression as he waits.

“Because I don’t want to tear him away from his family. I heard about his old settlement and the mere thought of taking him away from this one makes my heart hurt. I don’t want him to leave just to regret his decision.” Qifrey’s lips draw down into a frown and he kicks at a pebble in his way, sending it tumbling on the dirt path they continue to walk down.

“Don’t you think that taking the decision away from him is worse than your fear?” The question shocks Qifrey into stopping and the druid turns to regard him, “Doesn’t Olruggio deserve to have a say in his future?”

Qifrey looks down in shame, fingers tugging at each other as he chews on his lip, “I suppose so…” He looks back up at the older man beseechingly, “But what if he does end up regretting his choice and hates me for it? I don’t think I can bear the thoughts of Olly hating me.”

“Do you really believe that Olruggio would hate you over something like this? I can assure you that he is aware enough to make his own choices and that he knows that any decision he does end up making will not be the fault of anyone but himself. He’s a very smart young man- I’m sure you can agree.” Qifrey nods sheepishly, “Then I trust that you can find it within yourself to believe me when I say that Olruggio can make his own choices and that you must respect that.” The man’s hand is heavy when he places it on Qifrey’s shoulder, “I trust that you two will figure this out. And besides, you both are always welcome back here if you wish to visit again. You and Olruggio do not become strangers just because you move away.” With one final squeeze to his shoulder, the Arch Druid releases Qifrey and turns to leave, “Good night, Qifrey.”

Qifrey watches as the man disappears into the night and sighs. He knows he is being ridiculous and that all he has to do is ask, but something is making it feel as if sticky honey has trapped his words in his chest, never to be freed.

—

It takes another week before Sirocco’s claws have hardened completely. It takes two more weeks for her fire to come in. This, of course, means that they must now take their leave. He no longer has any excuses to put in the way of his continued journey away from the settlement and he knows that prolonging their stay will only work against his and Sirocco’s growth.

Qifrey’s pack weighs heavy against his shoulders and back, provisions and the knowledge of his duty weighing him down in ways that he cannot put into words. He stands with Olruggio at the settlement’s entrance, their shoulders brushing before the druid turns to face him.

“Qifrey.” He calls, making the warlock turn to face his friend. The blue eyes that greet him are watering before Olruggio blinks the tears away and huffs at himself, “You promise to visit, yeah?” His voice sounds slightly choked and he clears it roughly.

Qifrey blinks away his own tears, “Of course, Olly.” The words he longed to say remain in the immovable honey that suddenly coats his throat. He clears it to try and find them, but finds that his lips only wobble when he goes to part them. His hands reach to settle on his friend’s shoulders and he makes meaningful eye contact, “I’ll miss you.”

Olruggio smiles sadly, “I’ll miss you, too.” His own arms raise to drag the warlock into a crushing hug, his face burying itself into Qifrey’s shoulder and Sirocco chirping before extending her leathery wings to encompass both men’s heads into her own smaller hug, “I’ll miss you as well, Sirocco.” Olruggio’s muffled voice says back.

Qifrey returns the hug after a brief hesitation and feels his breath hitch. He fights the urge to cry, hands rubbing up and down Olruggio’s back in a show of comfort where his words fail and trying to be the image of a strong Dragonlord that people expect. His watering eye blinks and he looks to see the druids standing to send him off. The reminder of their presence makes him tense before he releases Olruggio, “I’ll visit.” He reiterates, hands cupping his friend’s cheeks and bringing their foreheads together, “I promise.”

Olruggio grips at the warlock’s wrists and nods, bangs ruffling from where the friction between their heads disturb the strands, “I’ll hunt you down if you don’t.” His eyes soften and he stares at Qifrey as if he were a chest full of riches that he’s unwillingly allowing thieves to run off with, “Be safe.”

Qifrey smiles sadly before leaning in, lips pressing a lingering kiss on the druid’s cheek before backing away, “I will.”

Sirocco breaks the moment by huffing smoke on Olruggio’s head, her chirp indignant at the lack of attention given to her. The druid turns his adoring eyes from Qifrey to instead stare humorously at the young dragon, “I will miss you, Sirocco. Please stay safe and come visit again some time.”

The dragon chirps again, satisfied, before taking off down the path they plan to take towards Argentgard. Qifrey turns from his fleeing dragon and to his friend before bowing, “This is where I go.” Olruggio bows back, the formality foreign between them but also a sign of their respect for one another.

The Dragonlord turns to bow at the druids sending him off and they bow back deeper and more reverently than he would like, but he simply smiles kindly before leaving down the path.

I love you. Qifrey thought, heart longing for him to face the one he sent the words to, but also knowing that he would not be able to leave if he were to see any reaction Olruggio might have made. His feet reach the main road- too far to hear any mental response sent back- and Sirocco comes down to report her findings.

A reassuring chirp tells him that the road ahead is clear of any dangers and he smiles proudly at her, even as his chest pangs, “Good girl.” He praises, petting her beak when she bends down for him to do so.

—

The road was indeed clear that day and well into the next. Sirocco hunted for their meals and lit their fires, her training coming in handy now that they were roughing it out in the wilderness. Protective barriers are erected at night so they can sleep peacefully and Qifrey smiles fondly at the memory of Olruggio teaching him that spell.

His eye will travel the way they came during their breaks and Sirocco will chirp to comfort him every time, as if she knows what he’s thinking. Her size grows as they continue to travel; she’s too large for his shoulder now, so she will rest on his forearm or fly circles in the sky above where he walks once his arm grows tired. She was great company, but she can’t speak yet, so the silence is rarely filled with words. He had started trying to teach her words, but she has only picked up phrases and a few words like no, yes and his name. Dragons are highly intelligent beings, so Qifrey is confident that she will eventually figure speaking out on her own, but he still wishes for a conversation partner again.

They are a few weeks into travel when she does speak without him prompting it.

It’s barely after the sun had fully risen and Qifrey was putting out the fire he had cooked their breakfast at, his pack slung over his shoulder and cloak laying across his elbow as he uses his boots to shove loose sand and dirt over the embers. He cuts off his stream of magic into the barrier, shrugging on his cloak and turning to regard his young dragon when he pauses in his movements.

Sirocco was a playful dragon who has only ever show reverence to Qifrey when she wished for his forgiveness, or during the rare times he had pulled rank to keep her from burning down the tent after only just learning to use her fire. Now, she was low on the ground in a bow with her wings tucked at her sides. Her body was big enough that if she were to stand on her hind legs, she would easily clear Qifrey’s own height- not including her tail- and so her massive body laying out in this small clearing must not be too comfortable. Yet, she lays in a show of reverence with no obvious reason to do so.

“Sirocco?” Qifrey questions, “What are you doing?”

The voice that speaks back is meek and rough with disuse, but she uses it with confidence nonetheless, “Goodbye, Dragonlord Qifrey.” Her eyes look up and Qifrey is hit with a wave of fondness that brings tears to his eye, “Thank you.”

Qifrey walks over and places a gentle palm on her beak, a bittersweet smile reaching his lips and a pressure in his heart building, “Anything for you, Sirocco.” He takes a fortifying breath, “I take it you’re ready to leave the nest?”

A forlorn chirp leaves her throat and shakes the ground beneath their feet momentarily, “Love you.”

Qifrey’s eye widens and he can’t stop the tear that falls, “I love you too, Sirocco. Stay safe.” Then he steps back for her to stand, unfold her wings, and take off. The winds her wings create threaten to blow him over, but he plants his feet harder into the ground and watches her go until she is only a speck in the horizon. His hand feels numb when he raises it to wipe away the wetness on his cheek and he sighs out all the sadness that threatens to consume him before turning towards the direction of Argentgard and takes his first step towards the faint energy he can feel coming from the capital.

—

Argentgard was bustling with people harking their wares and practicing practical magic to easily sweep their porches or water their plants. His shoulder feels empty even though Sirocco had outgrown that perch months ago and his ears need a second to grow used to human speech after so long without it. His smile is kind as he buys an apple and enters the flow of people again as he makes his way to the castle nearby.

The urge he had felt at the beginning of his journey had returned and now he knew what it meant, so he plans to seek council with the royal family in hopes of retrieving the dragon egg they currently hold.

He had time to think about the timing of it all and he came to the conclusion that Sirocco had known that one of her kin was awaiting their turn to hatch, and thus took her leave to make room for the new addition. He still feels her- can sense her presence in his mind’s eye. He knows she had made her way towards the nearby mountains and that she was healthy, but he couldn’t speak with her from this distance and he couldn’t tell if she was warm enough without his cloak at night. Dragons aren’t good pillows, but he would give up his comfort if it meant she was kept warm by his body heat.

The fretful energy he feels in his chest almost distracts him enough to miss the weak spell being cast his way. Sensing no malicious intent, he simply cancels out the magic and turns to regard the little girl who had tried to turn his hair a different color.

The little girl was giggling behind the fruit stand he had just left and he glances over to see a crowd of people hiding smiles of their own, so he assumes that the girl was a usual troublemaker around the town. A woman stops at his elbow and follows his line of sight to see who he was staring at, only to laugh and lean closer, “That’s Princess Tetia of Argentgard. She leans no harm.” Then she was on her way, her grocery basket swinging at her hip and eyes flickering over to watch the princess duck behind the fruit stand.

Qifrey’s smile turns into a playful one and he leisurely takes a bite of his apple as he saunters over. The giggling from behind the wood lets him know that she hadn’t ran off and he peaks over to stare at the top of her pink head, “Excuse me? Did you just try to change my hair color?” He tries to use a stern tone, but his smile ruins the effect.

The little girl squeaks before looking up and spotting the man she had just tried to spell, “Oh! Hello!” She greets, rushing to stand and curtsy elegantly, “I do not know what you speak of, Mister Sorcerer.” She peeks up through her pink lashes and smiles in what Qifrey assumes is meant to be an innocent manner.

“Oh, well, if that fantastic sorceress wasn’t you, then I guess I must continue my search.” The warlock sighs before taking another bite of his fruit, turning to leave the princess behind.

“Wait!” She shouts, running over to seriously regard the stranger, “How do you know I’m- or, um- this sorceress is strong?”

“Well, her spell was very complex for a young lady and the distance she had shot it from was impressive- that doesn’t even mention the accuracy needed to hit my head at such a distance.” He takes the last bite of his apple and burns the core to ash with a snap of his finger.

Tetia’s eyes sparkle when she sees the use of magic, “How did you do that without speaking?!” She demands, small hands reaching to clutch at his skirts and look up at his beseechingly, “Please teach me how you did that!”

Qifrey laughs kindly before gently taking her hands off of his skirt, “Hey now, no grabbing please.” He kneels to her level and nods in greeting, “How about an introduction first? I am Qifrey, a sorcerer from afar. Who might you be?”

She must have realized her rudeness, because her cheeks turn pink before she rushes to preform another curtsy, “I am Princess Tetia of Argentgard.” Introductions done, she tucks her hands against her chest to avoid grabbing again before pleading, “Can you teach me magic? Can you? My tutor is a mean old man who barely teaches me anything!”

Qifrey fights back the bubble of laughter that fights to emerge at the sight of the girl’s clear sign of frustration that makes her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk’s. Standing, Qifrey dusts off his skirts before smiling down at the princess, “How about we ask your parents if I can teach you magic, hm?”

—

The castle of the Argentgard royal family was elegant and teeming with activity when Qifrey finally reaches it’s halls. Tetia’s grip on his fingers and her surprisingly quick feet guide him to the throne room under the watchful eyes of guards that stare at the stranger with distrust. His own attention purposely avoided that tense atmosphere and instead focused on the massive oak doors that open to reveal the King and Queen, where they sit regally at their large thrones.

The queen already looks tired as she covers her eyes with a delicate palm, clearly preparing herself for whatever nonsense her daughter dragged into their home once more. The king smiles happily down at the duo as they come to a stop before the throne, “Tetia!” His deep voice booms through the room, echoing off of the walls and making his wife groan quietly at the volume, “I was wondering where you ran off to! Do you know how frantic your Magic Tutor was when he couldn’t find you?” Despite his words being chastising, his smile never even twitched towards a frown and he even laughs when Tetia bashfully folds her hands behind her back.

“Sorry… but I don’t like his lessons! They’re boring!” She looks through her lashes, bottom lip pouting out as she focuses on her father, “Master Qifrey here has offered to tutor me instead! He said he’s really good at magic and that he needed your permission to teach me.”

Qifrey had not told her that he was really good at magic, but he just smiles when the king’s focus turns to regarding him. He bows respectfully- hands on his hip and head down, “Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Qifrey, the last Dragonlord of the Zozah Peninsula. I wish to speak with you about teaching Princess Tetia magic-” He looks up at the royals who now looked as if they had seen a ghost, “-and I would appreciate if you gave me the dragon egg you have in your possession.”

The silence that falls over the extensive room is tense and Tetia seems to be the only one unaffected by it as she continues to look towards her parents hopefully, feet shuffling with barely-contained excitement at the idea of a Dragonlord teaching her magic. She finally breaks the quiet impatiently, “Please! I want to study with Master Qifrey!”

The queen swallows thickly before clearing her throat, “Tetia, why don’t you go attend you lessons and we can speak more about this after we speak privately with Dragonlord Qifrey?” Her sharp eyes turn to her daughter, who stands her ground for a few moments before huffing and storming off.

The oak doors closing loudly behind him doesn’t phase the Dragonlord as he now stands straighter, shoulders back and face set in a neutral mask that doesn’t give anything away to the king and queen before him. The king stands and walks down to meet Qifrey at his level, “Are you truly a Dragonlord? I thought the last of your kin died off years ago?”

Qifrey nods, “I am a Dragonlord. I came to retrieve the egg your family had taken into your custody because it seems to be ready to hatch and I wish to hatch it.” The magical vibration he feels from the egg goes deep underground and he continues, “I can sense it is underground- likely in your treasure vault. I would appreciate it if you would hand it over for me to complete my duty, Your Majesty.” He would gladly break into the vault himself if he needed to, but he had promised the princess that he would help her learn, and so he wishes to avoid confrontation if he can.

Seeming to sense how serious the warlock was about this, the king nods in return, “Very well, then you can receive it as payment for teaching my daughter magic.” His stern expression softens and he lays a heavy hand on Qifrey’s shoulder, “It is nice to meet a Dragonlord in the flesh! We look forward to seeing where this goes.”

The queen stands from her own throne and slowly makes her way over to them, long sleeves trailing behind her, “You can move into the Eastern Wing. I will assign some servants to you and they will inform you of the schedule.” Then she leaves, followed by her maids and likely to inform the old tutor of his firing.

“Welcome to Argentgard, Dragonlord Qifrey.” The king smiles widely at the warlock, hand gripping his shoulder in what was likely meant to be a friendly reassurance, but would surely leave a bruise in it’s wake.

“Thank you for having me.”

—

Qifrey’s rooms were expansive and he had to allow the servants to fill the large tub with water instead of using the rune he had grown so used to back at the settlement, so while they scurried around preparing his bath, Qifrey used the desk to write out spells that the princess could use to show him what exactly he would be working with.

Basic elemental magic would be the best bet for early practice, seeing as she can easily harness it from the world around her. Due to her lively personality, he avoids spells using fire for the moment. He doesn’t trust that she won’t accidentally light something on fire from excitement. Earth, wind and water should be fine for now, so he writes down all he knows about how to manipulate them.

Her magic seemed to be weak in power when she tried to prank him in the market, so he made sure to copy down the words for the spells, neatly enough for her to read off of without much trouble. Speaking them will provide more power and carves out a direction for the magic to follow. Her energy suggests that she would be able to handle building her abilities, seeing as she knows how to live with so much energy already. Teaching her control was high on his list of to-dos, seeing as she seemed to lack in it. He didn’t know the princess for long, but he can see how she needs a bit more assistance in containing her excitement- which, he wouldn’t normally concern himself with, seeing as she is only ten summers and thus allowed to be a bit childish, but with magic you need to understand how to harness that power with purpose instead of emotion driving it’s trajectory- to avoid accidents from happening in the future.

The paper was nearly fully covered in notes before the last servant bid their farewell and closed the heavy oak doors to his room. He stretches before getting ready to bathe. He wonders how Olruggio would teach Tetia if he were put in the same situation as him and laughs at the mental image. He’s sure that Olruggio would have already cut his losses and went back to camping out instead of sleeping in the same castle as the overly excitable child.

A memory of the druid children asking Olruggio for various enchanted toys and to teach them how to carve their own after the man had been bullied into actually making said toys entered Qifrey’s mind, then. Qifrey remembers fondly how Olruggio’s own face lit up with childish awe as he watched the wooden horse come to life, movement and illusion runes making it gallop across his desk like a wild stallion, wooden mane coming alive as it flew in the wind generated by it’s movements. The children had looked very similar when first seeing the toy; their big eyes growing even larger as they oohed and awwed appropriately. The memory was one he will hold dearly for years to come.

He dresses after his bath, movements quick as the egg’s restless magic begins to affect his own. He briefly wonders if each egg’s call will make his magic act up every time, or if these two have been purposely causing trouble for him, for whatever reason.

Rapid knocking comes from his doors and he finishes tying off his last neck strap before answering it. His eye trials lower until he finds the fluffy head of hair standing outside. He smiles kindly before exiting his room and closing the door behind him, “Hello, Princess Tetia. Weren’t you meant to finish your magic lessons today?”

The princess smiles mischievously and she shakes her head, “I decided that I’d much rather learn from you, Master Qifrey!” She grabs his fingers and begins leading him from corridors, a maid quickening her steps to follow her lady, “What will we learn today? I’ve always wanted to speak to the big dragon in the ocean- can you teach me how? Can you tell me her name? I’ve always wondered, but my parents said that she was so old that even they have never been able to ask! Isn’t that so sad? She must be so lonely out in that huge ocean all alone!”

They finally near the pair of doors that Tetia was apparently searching for and the maid quickly reaches over to open it for the princess and teacher. Qifrey nods in thanks before refocusing on what Tetia had just said, “There’s a dragon in your ocean?” He had heard about other ancient dragons, yes, but he had never actually known their locations. To know that there was one so close to them made him wish to venture out and speak with her immediately.

“Yes! She’s biiiig and she has all these things on her back- like rocks! But they’re alive and they look icky.” The words are concerning to Qifrey, who isn’t sure if barnacles should be left unattended to on a dragon’s scales, or if those rocks were even barnacles at all.

“I’ll make sure to check on her for you.” The books he had read before spoke about how Dragonlord bonds worked. Apparently, he had to forge a bond with the dragon to be able to actually feel them anywhere in the world. He knew there were more dragons alive, but he never knew where they all were- just that they were still alive. The only dragon he can actually sense and check up on the health of was Sirocco, and that’s because their bond was strong.

Tetia’s eyes are sparkling when she looks back at him once they reach the table covered with- what appeared to be- multiple spell books and notes written in childish handwriting, “Can I go with?! I’ve always wanted to meet a dragon! They seem so cute!”

Qifrey takes his seat at the table and taps the topmost page of notes and looks to her with a stern expression, “Let’s finish your lessons and then I will speak with your parents, deal?”

He watches the excitement drain from Tetia’s face before she reluctantly sits, lips set in a pout and hand reluctantly reaching to dip the quill into her ink pot, “Fine- but! I want to learn a new spell today! My old tutor hasn’t taught me a new one in ages!” Her eyes look towards him, stubborn and unyielding.

Are all princesses this bossy? He wonders fondly, “Of course; maybe we can learn a water spell?” He assumes it can be useful to know some water magic with how close she lives to the ocean.

Her pout lifts into a triumphant smile and she cheers, “Yes! He never taught me any of those before!” Now emboldened to get to the fun part quickly, she focuses on her note taking that she had abandoned earlier.

Qifrey watches her work with a smile firmly placed on his lips. He’s sure his time here will be spent trying to keep the princess on track, but he also feels a sense of accomplishment at the end of their lesson, when she successfully creates a sphere of water. Her small hands are steady as they mold the water and she watches in awe as the reluctant stream forms a similar ball shape to Qifrey’s own. Her sparkling eyes direct themselves towards her teacher and Qifrey praises her proudly, making her cheer in triumph.

—

Dinner that night was spent in the presence of the royal family. The king and queen sit at the head of the large table and Qifrey sits across from Tetia on the sides. The meal is served, the plate piled with meats, vegetables and cheeses that would probably have sent Olruggio into a panic with how expensive it all appeared.

Qifrey was raised in a nobleman’s household, so he was used to rich foods, but nothing was quite like the meals served to royals. His food was delicious, of course, and he favored the foreign cheeses that were paired with fine cuts of meats. The vegetables were cooked to perfection and he hums happily around the flavor they added to his bite.

“Mom! Dad! Master Qifrey said that he can talk with the ocean dragon!” Tetia’s excited voice breaks through the calm atmosphere, “He said that he can introduce me to her if you said he could!”

The king smiles brightly back at his daughter, their resemblance uncanny with their matching expression, “Did he now? How fun!” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before looking towards the warlock, “Have you met her before? I hear she’s quite reclusive.”

Qifrey shakes his head, “I have not. The princess had brought the knowledge of her location to me during our first lesson, so I suggested meeting her and making sure she was doing well.” He also reaches for his napkin to wipe away any sauce on the corners of his lips, “I heard that she had some barnacles on her scales? Do you know how large?”

The queen answers, “I had seen her when I first came to Argentgard’s capital for my wedding. She was covered by them, but they appeared to be quite small from where I was standing.” She scans his expression before continuing, “You have the right to venture off to see to her scales, but I would appreciate if Tetia stays here while you handle your business. We do not know how your dragon will react to your attempts at helping her, so I cannot trust that she will avoid harming my daughter.”

The king seems to sober at his wife’s words and shoots an apologetic look his daughter’s way, “Your mom is right, Tetia. We wouldn’t want the dragon to lash out and hurt you on accident.”

Tetia frowns deeply and huffs before poking at her broccoli, “That’s so unfair.” He mutters, clearly dissatisfied with her parents’ words.

“If I were to guarantee your daughter’s safety, then would I be permitted to escort her to visit the dragon? I assure you that I do not wish the princess harm and would never put her in the way of it.” He makes sure to stare into the king and queen’s eyes as he says this, voice genuine and kind, “Dragons are unable to ignore any command I give, so I promise that as long as I decree it, Tetia will never be harmed by a dragon.”

The royals look to each other, a silent conversation flowing between them before the queen sighs and the king grins, “If you do not mind a few knights joining you both, then I do not see an issue with it.” He allows, causing the princess to perk up visibly and cheer, “But, you must listen to Dragonlord Qifrey and the knights, Tetia. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt because you failed to listen.”

The princess nods excitedly, her small body wiggling from the surge of energy suddenly entering her veins, “Yes! I promise!” Her small threads of magic that react to her joy cause spheres of light to bubble up in the air before popping, raining down glitter as she continues to do a little dance in her chair.

Qifrey smiles as he continues to eat his meal, content with his job well done.

—

Tetia was quick to knock on his door early the next morning, her maids clearly tired but fond over their little princess’ energetic nature. She was dressed for all the hiking they will be doing today and her hair was up in two cute pigtails that sat high on the sides of her head, their swaying eye-catching when she excitedly runs around the room while Qifrey finishes packing his bag and throwing on his cloak.

Qifrey himself was tired, but also quite excited to meet this ancient dragon of the sea. Legends tell of prophecies commonly being shared between Dragonlords and their dragons, so he wonders if she would have any wisdom to share once they grow a stronger trust. He just hopes the destiny shared doesn’t involve himself, seeing as his hands were quite full already by his duties and self-discovery.

Tetia chatters to her teacher as they walk outside, knights standing at the ready next to the massive gate that has long since opened for the day. Her short legs work to run circles around Qifrey’s more leisurely pace, his smile never fading even as they come to stand before the Head Knight.

The man’s face was hidden by his helmet and the blue eyes Qifrey could barely see were placed firmly on the warlock’s form, clearly distrusting of the stranger meant to lead them to the ancient dragon.

“Master Qifrey! This is our Head Knight, Head Knight, this is Master Qifrey! He’ll be directing us towards where the dragon is!” Tetia’s happy voice pivots to introducing the two easily despite the tension hanging in the air, “Let’s go!”

Her small hand grabs hold of Qifrey’s much bigger one and she’s quick to drag him towards the town and down the street leading to the ocean. He was content with being lead for the time being, simply keeping tabs on where the ancient dragon’s energy signatures are coming from and gently nudging her towards the rocky cliffs when she attempts to drag him the opposite way. The sound of her voice and the clinking of armor is all he can hear over the sounds of waves lapping at the shore, providing a soothing backdrop to their hike.

The rocks are large when they reach the base of the cliff, leaving Qifrey to gently lift Tetia on his hip and calmly hop from rock-to-rock using concentrated boosts of wind at his heels. The Head Knight shouts at them, but Tetia quickly calls him to heel, “Master Qifrey wouldn’t hurt me!” She shouts back indignantly, “Stay put until we come back!” Her orders given, she snuggles into Qifrey’s neck and giggles as he continues to traverse the cliff skillfully.

The top of the cliff is small in terms of standing room, so Qifrey keeps a tight hold on the princess and surveys the area with a keen eye. He had felt the dragon’s energy nearby, but with their bond nearly non-existent, nearby could mean almost any distance out at sea. The Dragonlord manuals had said that his Voice would carry easily across any distance, but he still wondered if that was true as he clears his throat in preparation to use it, “Tetia, please cover your ears; I’m not sure how loud this call will be.”

The princess looks at him with wide, curious eyes that longed to ask a million and one questions, but she soon covers her ears with her palms obediently and nods to show she was good to continue. Clearing his throat once more, Qifrey take a fortifying breath before projecting his summons for the ancient dragon to heed his call. The Voice was deeper than his usual and he can feels his very bones vibrate with the power used to project his words, but he ignores it in favor of getting his words right.

Tetia squeaks at the sounds coming from her teacher’s throat, but her concern turns to awe when a massive dragon rises from the ocean’s waters and flies only a few feet in front of the cliff they currently stand at the top of. Their dark blue scales glitter in the morning sunlight and her pearlescent cluster of scales on her stomach are nearly blinding in their brilliance. Tetia’s hands slowly lower from her ears subconsciously and Qifrey laughs at her agog reaction to seeing a real dragon for the first time.

The dragon comes to rest on top of a large bolder further down the cliff, leaving her in the perfect position to come face-to-face with the Dragonlord. Her nostrils were small and flared larger once she takes her first inhale of air, the gills on her long neck closing to avoid drying them out. Her horns were longer than Sirocco’s, naturally, and stood out much like a bicorn’s would. When she breathes, it releases white smoke that Qifrey quickly learns is much more like a freezing winter gust than actual smoke from a dragon’s fire, as it smacks him and the princess right in the face and leaves their cheeks pink from the cold winds.

Her voice is feminine, but deep, when she finally speaks, “Last of the Dragonlords, welcome to the kingdom called Argentgard.” Her large, ice-blue eyes glance towards the princess currently struck silent by the mighty beast before her, “And Princess Tetia, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She does not bow- for she serves no one but the Dragonlord- but she does gently poke the princess’ small chest with her damp snout, leaving a large patch of water on Tetia’s dark pink tunic.

Qifrey smiles kindly to the dragon before him and takes note of the various barnacles littering her wings and back, “Thank you for responding to me. What is your name, if you don’t mind saying?”

The dragon’s expression softens and she readily answers, “Tethyssa, ancient dragon of the sea. You are Qifrey, last of the Dragonlords. I have heard much about you.” She bows her head in respect before creating space once more, “I assume you did not call me for idle chatter.”

“You would be right in your assumptions. I wished to meet with you and assist with removing anything that might be causing you discomfort.” His eye glances pointedly towards the barnacles before he lifts Tetia a bit higher on his hip, “And Princess Tetia came to formally meet the dragon currently residing next to her kingdom.”

Tetia perks up at her opening and vibrates with excitement as she finally speaks, “Hi! I’ve only heard about the ancient dragon of the sea, so to finally meet you is so cool! You’re so massive- in a good way! And your scales are so pretty! Have they always been so blue? I know that baby hairs are usually really pale when they’re first born- my hair was really pale! Now it’s darker- but not too dark!”

Qifrey only smiles fondly as the princess rambles, her arms flailing as she gestures to her own hair and to the dragon’s much darker scales, her energy never waning. Tethyssa simply listens to the child speak, her throat humming at the appropriate times and her body relaxing the longer the princess continues.

Tetia inhales to jump onto another topic, but the dragon gently speaks to interrupt whatever she was about to say, “To answer your questions: Yes, I was born with my scales this dark and yes, I would appreciate a bit of help removing the barnacles. When dragons were still traveling in groups, we would care for each other’s scales- but now that a majority of us split off in hopes of hiding, those of us that live in the sea have begun to harbor unwanted pests.” Her two pairs of wings flare out delicately and reveal clusters of barnacles hidden in their folds.

Tetia wiggles until Qifrey finally sets her down far away from the cliff’s ledge and keeps his hand on her shoulder as they walk closer to inspect the damage. There were large barnacles that moved subtly under their shells. The leathery skin under them looked slightly inflamed from their abuse and Qifrey frowns at the sight of it. Tethyssa lowers herself down for better access and Qifrey softly pokes at the crustaceans, winching when they twitch under his touch. The feeling was rough and uncomfortable, but he only shakes off the lingering discomfort before placing his hand on the wing, sending a stream of magic through the appendage to better inspect the damage.

He knows that the glue used by barnacles can damage a creature’s skin and even the wood used for boats, so he isn’t shocked to see that the topmost layer of skin on Tethyssa’s wing was looking to be ripped in places and dry in others. He sends a small pulse of force magic out from under the barnacle and sighs when the glue holds. This will likely require more force than he would like, seeing as he’s trying not to damage her wings more.

Tetia’s voice is laced with concern when she speaks, “What’s wrong? Will Tethy be okay?” The nickname makes Tethyssa smile, cold air huffing out of her nostrils in good humor.

“I’ll be fine, little princess.” She coos, head lowering to better be at the child’s level, “These guys are just a little frustrating, is all.” Her assurances are met with a bright, relieved smile from the sorceress and Tetia lightly pets the dragon’s nose.

“Good! I wouldn’t want you to be injured just because some stupid little barnacles decided to stick themselves to your pretty wings.” She makes a disgusted face and the dragon huffs a laugh once more.

Qifrey closes his eye to focus on his task once again, magic gentle as he subtly pushes at the various arthropods in an attempt to find any weak spots. A few pop off at his prodding, making Tetia cheer at the sight, but a good amount of them continue to stick snugly to the dragon’s body. He opens his eye to inspect their closed cirri, the way they appeared to have barely been affected by his attempts at removing them, and deems this something he would need to find another way to fix.

“I’ll need to do some research on how to remove them without hurting you anymore. I’m sure I can find some literature on the topic.” He sends an apologetic look towards the dragon and she subtly shakes her head.

“There is no need to rush, Dragonlord. I will always be here and they will likely not move anytime soon, so take as much time as you need.” Her tone is understanding and it puts Qifrey’s nerves at ease, even if he still feels a bit peeved at being unable to solve the issue immediately.

“Let me remove what I can for now and then we can head back for Tetia’s magic lessons.” Qifrey offers, receiving a round of agreements- one much more reluctant than the other, if Tetia’s small pout is anything to go by.

He gets to work, concentration solely on the weaker barnacles and analyzing the stronger ones for any subtle weaknesses he can exploit before they bid their farewells and meet back up with the uneasy knights waiting for them at the bottom of the cliff.

—

Lessons proceed a bit differently than the day before; Qifrey takes the princess outside to have better access to nature and the elements she will be harnessing today. Her hands are steadier as she forms the same sphere of water from yesterday, her smile beaming as she receives her earned praise. She struggles to call water from bellow the earth, but when she finally receives a generous palm-sized puddle, she readily uses it to make another ball of water before splashing it in Qifrey’s face, body falling back in boisterous laughter as she clutches at her stomach.

Qifrey draws the water off of his clothing and hair before splashing her back, beginning a back-and-fourth water fight that draws the eyes of maids, servants, and knights alike. Nobody but Qifrey notices the way her power naturally grows, or how her aim betters itself after the fifth stream of water lands at the center of his forehead instead of his chest.

Their laughter and excitement dies down, leaving them breathless and grinning. Qifrey’s lesson plan lays between them soaked and he can’t find it in himself to be disappointed by it. His student was happy and growing in her skills, so he deems the lesson a success.

“Now would probably be a good time to learn how to dry your own clothes.” Qifrey teases, announcing the words to a drying spell before Tetia’s play clothes and tied hair come back dry and warm.

Tetia trips over her words, but ultimately Qifrey’s own clothes end up damp instead of dripping and they consider it a good enough first try.

“I’m glad you came to Argentgard, Master Qifrey.” Tetia comments as they make their way back into the castle, arms full of wet parchment and rumpled clothes, “You’re the best teacher ever.” It was approaching midday, now, and her eyes were clearly drooping as her excitement turns into sleepiness.

The princess’ maid walks up to gently usher her highness down a separate corridor that led to her chambers, sending Qifrey off with a quiet farewell and leaving him to find his own way to his rooms.

Determined to find a few books related to barnacles in the library before Tetia inevitably finds him in a few hours after her nap, he quickly goes through the process of cleaning and dressing into clean robes before hurrying to the empty library.

The librarian was stern when she assisted him in gathering the necessary reading materials and he nodded in respect before finding a quiet corner to study in.

When the tide goes out, the barnacle closes up shop to conserve moisture. The line draws the conclusion that they cannot allow themselves to dry out- which suggests that if they did dry out, then they will likely die. Qifrey makes a note of using weak fire magic to hopefully boil the crustaceans alive and possibly weaken the glue they use to hold on with. He wasn’t too hopeful with this suggestion, seeing as he could end up burning Tethyssa accidentally, which would clearly be against what he is here to do.

Boat crews will often utilize spatula-shaped metal devices to scrape barnacles off their hulls. Qifrey’s mind immediately considers this- it provides a way to easily ensure that the parasites are removed of- but the thought of inflicting anymore damage to the dragon’s wings makes him shy away from the suggestion. He’d rather find some other-much gentler- way to resolve this issue.

His notes are a mess of scratched out suggestions and various messy diagrams of what he remembers the barnacles looking like where their glue holds onto the skin underneath by the time a servant finds him to announce the evening meal being served.

Qifrey ducks into his room to drop off his research before hurrying to the great hall. He is the last to arrive, and so he is the last to sit down across from his student. Their meals are brought shortly after he gets comfortable and he is greeted to a generous serving of sea food. The irony of it all is unsurprising and he laughs quietly at the way Tetia winches at the crab meat sitting on her plate.

“How was your day, honey?” The king asks his daughter, smile open and inviting. His wife eats her food calmly, but her eyes are clearly waiting for her daughter to answer her father.

The princess immediately perks up, “So fun! We met the ancient sea dragon- her name is Tethyssa! And she had these yucky barnacles on her wings that popped off grossly, but I think it felt good because Tethy looked happy to have them off. She was so nice, mama!” Tetia turns to look at her mother, “Master Qifrey introduced us and she was really kind- she got my shirt wet! It was cold, but I didn’t care. She listened to me tell her about the castle and the knights and how the townsfolk think my pranks are funny!”

The queen sends a relieved look to her husband before responding to her daughter, “That’s very good to hear, sweetie.” Her voice was genuine as she took a delicate bite of her crab and swallowed, “Eat your food, you’ve been running around all day and a growing girl needs her nutrients.”

“But it looks like the inside of the barnacles!” Tetia whines, poking at the crab once more with her fork, “What if it gets stuck in my throat and I end up with lumpy crabs sticking to my throat forever?!”

Qifrey answers her this time, “Crabs are not able to make the same glue that barnacles make, your highness. I assure you that the crab meat will not harden in your throat.” His words seemed to do the trick, because after a moment of hesitation, the princess takes a buttery chunk of crab and eats it quickly- barely chewing before hastily swallowing, as if speed will keep the crab from changing it’s mind and adhering itself to her mouth despite it’s inability to do so, “See? All good.”

Tetia’s eyes sparkle as she takes another bite, clearly over whatever fear she had previously and ready to enjoy her meal. The older royals shoot him thankful glances and he smiles back kindly before tucking into his own food.

It was once again cooked to perfection- as to be expected- and the crab melted on his tongue as he chewed. He enjoyed the food he was given and by the time dessert rolled around, Tetia was nearly bursting with words she wished to continue saying.

“Master Qifrey taught me how to shoot water! He also taught me a spell to dry clothes with! I think I need to pronounce the words better for it because his clothes were still damp, but I think I have it down!” She snatches a water glass- and before anyone could stop her- she promptly dumped it’s contents all over her velvet gown before chanting the words for her spell, immediately drying her dress and leaving her warm once again.

The adults at the table were in various stages of standing by the time she had already resolved the issue, and the queen is the first to plop back down onto her cushion and cover her face with her palm, “Very good Tetia, very good.” She muttered from her hiding place, the defeat clear in her tone.

The king rounds the table to lift his daughter out of her seat and spins her, “Well done!” He bellows, voice bouncing off the hall’s walls in his jubilation, “You are growing to be a powerful sorceress, my dear!”

Qifrey slowly sits back down, spoon scooping up a slice of his lemon cake as he watches the scene play out before him with a calm smile on his lips. His student was a ball of unpredictability, but he wouldn’t have her any other way.

After the evening meal, Qifrey takes a walk around the Eastern Gardens. His mind drifts to the reason he was here- the dragon egg under the castle- and sighs. If he were to hatch them now, then he could easily raise them under the shelter of the royal family. He idly wonders about handing the hatchling off to Tethyssa and stores that consideration away for later. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

—

Tetia’s lessons are much calmer for the rest of the week. Her grasp on water and air have grown through rigorous training involving climbing rocks with puffs of wind and target practice using the training dummies left behind by the knights.

Her pranks had not lessened, though, and Qifrey has had to intercept plenty of them during their breaks between lessons and trips into town. The common folk grow to recognize the tall, white haired man who guides the princess into town to buy sweets and ribbons for their hair as the man who has single-handedly lessened the amount of colored hair pranks.

When she wasn’t trying to wack him with ridiculous spells, she’s practicing her braiding on his fringe. She complains about his spectacles getting in the way, but respects that he will not take them off- no matter how much she tugs on his hair. The rainbow of colorful ribbons that he sports at the end of every day is a badge of honor he wears proudly until he pulls them out at night.

It is one of these nights that he enters his room to find a familiar box resting on his cluttered desk. The pulsing energy coming from where the runes have weakened alert him as to what is inside of it and he quickly opens the lid, hands steady as they lift the dark blue from it’s confines. Unlike the silver dragon egg, this one was more rounded in shape- like a pearl- and it was decorated with circles that stood out with their teal-colored speckles. The dragon inside sends another wave of magic through his arms that feel like raindrops falling on his skin and leaving him to shiver at their chill.

“Hello there.” He whispers, fingers inspecting the shell for any damage and feeling satisfied by the lack of any. He places the egg back in the box and grabs the heavy object securely before making his way out of his room and towards the nearest exit. He felt that this egg was itching to be hatched and he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until it was freed.

The rocky cliff was lit up by stars and the moon’s rays as he hops from rock-to-rock, steps sure even as his boots threaten to slip from the ocean mist dampening their surfaces. The top of the cliff was empty and he sets the box down gently before sitting, ignoring the dampness that seeps through his cloak and into his skirt from the wet stone.

The egg appears to glow subtly in the night’s darkness and he cradles it close, inhaling to announce it’s name before the sound of soft footfalls appear from behind.

“This looks like quite the lonely Naming Ceremony.” The all-too familiar voice says. Qifrey whips his head around and gasps at the figure he sees, “It’s good to see you too, Qifrey.” Olruggio smiles fondly, his feet landing on the clifftop with barely a sound.

Qifrey watches in shock as the druid takes a seat beside his friend, mind failing to catch up with the most recent sequence of events as Olruggio inspects the egg with his eyes, “This one is a lot different than the other one- is it because it’s not a silver dragon?”

The warlock nods dumbly, lips parted slightly as the other man smiles wider at the reaction he was continuing to receive, “You’re a hard man to track down, Dragonlord. If Sirocco hadn’t found me going the wrong way, I might have wounded up in Kalhn on accident- and that wouldn’t have been ideal.”

This finally snaps Qifrey out of his shock, “You’ve been looking for me this whole time?” His throat is dry, making him close his lips and swallow to try and wet it.

“Well, yeah! I needed to do this.” Then he’s leaning in, hand stabilizing the egg in Qifrey’s lap as he leans close and kisses the warlock softly. Qifrey gasps into it, allowing for Olruggio to deepen the kiss, and they lose themselves in the feeling of finally getting to do what they’ve each longed to do for months now. Olruggio’s chapped lips feel euphoric on Qifrey’s softer ones, making him sigh contently as his hand reaches to cup Olruggio’s jaw, fingers scratching the hair there and enjoying the sigh from his partner that the action causes.

When they part, Olruggio’s hand is still holding the egg in place, while his other one supported his own weight against the stone, leaving him hovering a bit over Qifrey. Qifrey was out of breath, one hand supporting his weight behind him and the other still cupping Olruggio’s face, eye wide with wonder at the events that had just transpired, “Wow.” He breathes, angling himself to sit more upright and placing his forehead against Olruggio’s own.

“Wow.” The druid nods, the hand supporting himself moving to instead rest on Qifrey’s leg, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw you being a creeper at the settlement’s boarders.” He teases, the apples of his pale cheeks darkening under the moonlight.

“I was not being a creeper.” Qifrey quickly rebukes, but his voice was much too soft to hold any conviction, “And I wanted to kiss you since you came to find me after I found out I was a Dragonlord.” His own cheeks pinken, matching the ribbon still tangled in his hair.

Olruggio backs off, then, and laughs softly, “It seems to me that we should have kissed a while ago, then. I guess we could always just make up for lost time… if you wished to.” His confidence seemed to flag, hope clashing with the fact that they had never spoken about where they stood before now.

Qifrey pinches the druid’s ear gently and huffs a laugh, “Of course I want to kiss you more, Olly.” He finally releases his partner and turns his attention to the unhatched egg in his lap, “But I think this little guy will simply hatch himself if we do not do so now.”

The druid scoots to sit closer to Qifrey and runs his thumb reverently over the smooth shell, “Then we best get on with it, then.”

The Dragonlord finally inhales and breathes life into the egg by saying, “Idyia.”

—

The next morning finds not only a druid now walking the halls with the Magical Tutor Qifrey, but also the appearance of a hatchling wrapped snugly around the warlock’s neck; the midnight blue scales standing out against his white cloak and drawing the attention of everyone around them.

“So, a tutor huh?” Olruggio teases, steps easily matching Qifrey’s own as they near the library, “I don’t think I’ve ever thought of you as a teacher- no offense.”

Qifrey rolls his eye, “I am quite good at it, actually. My student has nearly mastered basic water and air magic in the time I’ve been here; I’d say that’s an impressive feat.” Idyia, unused to being carried around so soon after hatching, wiggles in discontent on the Dragonlord’s shoulders, a small whine erupting from his throat.

The druid’s face softens and he leans over to look at the disgruntled hatchling’s face, it’s eyes already glaring towards everyone they passed by, “He doesn’t seem to like crowds much.” Olruggio comments, “Sirocco loved crowds; I wonder why he doesn’t.”

“I’ll ask Tethy about it after we remove those pests from her scales.” Qifrey states, “She will know more about this than either of us.”

The library doors were already open when they neared and both men readily walk in, still chatting amongst themselves as they sat and waited for the princess’ arrival, “Do you think you can teach Tetia healing magic? I only know a few spells for healing bruises and small cuts.” Qifrey asks, “Maybe even some earth magic? You were the one to teach me that encasement spell a few months ago.”

Olruggio seems uneasy about teaching the princess, his brows furrowing and body shifting uneasily in his seat, “I don’t know… I’m not much of a teacher, Qifrey.” He raises his hands to support his head as he slouches, “Or a healer, for that matter. You already know this.”

“You still know more than I do.” Qifrey argues, “And I happened to enjoy your lessons on runes and their uses- I’m sure Tetia would appreciate it, too.” Especially if it assisted in causing more mayhem.

With a reluctant sigh, the druid agrees, “I have a book on healing that we can use as reading materials… but don’t expect much from me! I don’t have the best track record with the healing arts.”

Qifrey takes the win for what it is and smiles brightly as he leans over to kiss his partner’s scruffy cheek happily, “Thank you!”

Tetia enters the library before Olruggio could lecture Qifrey on public indecency. The princess’ skipping showed and her visible excitement dimmed as soon as she realized that there was a stranger now sitting next to her teacher, “Um… hello?” She greets, steps slowing as she nears and preforms a bewildered curtsy, “I am Princess Tetia of Argentgard, welcome to my kingdom. Who might you be..?”

Olruggio tries to send a reassuring smile back at the confused princess- and it almost comes out as a grimace, “Hello, Princess Tetia, I am Olruggio- Qifrey’s partner and a druid from a local settlement.”

The silence after their introductions stretches until Qifrey claps his hands once, gaining the attention of his two companions and destroying the tense atmosphere, “Olly came to help me hatch the sea dragon egg last night! Isn’t that kind?”

Tetia’s nose wrinkles at the news, “He helped? But he’s… not a Dragonlord.” She reluctantly pulls out the chair across from the two men, her pink eyes taking in the druid’s tired and disheveled appearance with clear judgment, “How could he possibly help when I couldn’t even help?”

Is she… jealous? Qifrey presses his lips together in a tight line to try and refrain from laughing at the thought. The Princess of Argentgard was currently pouting and casting judgment on his partner because she wasn’t allowed to hatch the dragon egg last night, when this random man- whom she had never met before- was, “Tetia, Olly has helped me hatch a dragon egg before- a couple months ago, to be exact- and so I am confident in his ability to provide stability during the Naming Ceremony.”

“But I can’t help because I’m not qualified?” Definitely jealous, “I could have provided stability, too!” Her eyes water before she blinks them away and huffs, aggravated, “What does Olruggio have to do with hatching dragons, huh? He’s just some druid from a random settlement!” Her small arms cross over her chest and she sits back in her chair huffily, “That’s so unfair; I wanted to watch you hatch the dragon!”

Qifrey softens and shoots his partner an apologetic look. This was not now he imagined this introduction going, “Tetia, I promise that the next time I find an egg in Argentgard, I will invite you to the ceremony, okay?” He reaches up to pick Idyia up off of his shoulders and lays him on the table, “But look- here’s the hatchling we greeted last night, why don’t you say hi?”

The princess pretends to be disinterested for a moment before her eyes finally land on the reptile, then they widen in awe and she finally sits up, attention solely focused on the sleeping dragon on the table. The baby had fallen back asleep after they had reached the silent library, so his blue eyes were closed as he rested and his body rose and fell slowly, releasing quiet snores from his small mouth and nostrils. He was a bit smaller than Sirocco was- and a lot darker, too. His horns were still not ready to fully rise from inside his skin, so their tips were blunt and covered with leathery skin. He looked as if you shrunk Tethyssa to the size of a Tetia’s forearm.

The princess’ mood visibly brightens and she delicately brushes the weakened back spines down, causing Idyia to shiver before relaxing at the gentle attention. Tetia giggles at the small dragon’s reaction and she has seemed to completely forget her previous gripes to instead marvel at the creature sleeping before her.

“His name is Idyia and he’s a water dragon like Tethyssa. He’ll be taken care of by Qifrey until his spines and nails harden.” Olruggio quietly informs the princess, hoping to bridge the gap made between them a bit, “I think he will be breathing ice instead of fire, though, if Qifrey’s books are to be believed.”

The princess barely glances up at the older man before returning her attention to the baby dragon, “Tethyssa’s breath was very cold.” She offers, voice quiet as to not awaken the hatchling.
“Was it? I haven’t met her yet, so that’s very interesting to know.” The druid tries again, growing more and more uncomfortable as the princess continues to ice him out. Qifrey watches them interact with a bit of humor; he has rarely seen any child dislike Olruggio, so seeing such a thing as this was a treat. Sure, he would like for them to get along, but he isn’t too worried- Tetia is a bright little girl who is unlikely to hold any grudges.

“You haven’t?” Now her sharp eyes are glued to the druid, suddenly interested in the fact that she now has something above the man in relation to dragon experience.

Olruggio- smartly- doesn’t mention- again- how he has met a dragon before, just not this specific one, “Yeah. I’d like to hear your experience in meeting her some other time, if you’d like?” The princess takes a moment to consider this offer before nodding.

They didn’t end up getting much done that day in regards to learning magic, but by the end of it Tetia was back to giggling and happily retold the story of meeting the ancient sea dragon to an interested Olruggio during their afternoon stroll through the gardens.

Qifrey considers this day to be a win as he feeds his hatchling small cuts of beef on a nearby bench, smile warm and demeanor calm as he watched his two companions enjoy each other’s company next to a planter of vibrant pink sea thrifts.

—

Olruggio’s plan to teach Tetia is a much more Druidic way of approaching things of a magical nature. He sits everyone down in the area outside- the place that had been cornered off for their tutoring sessions- and instructs both Tetia and Qifrey to try and enter a meditative state. Qifrey finds this to be an easy accomplishment, but a small part of his mind reminds him that Tetia is likely very cross with this way of learning as her knee seems to dig into his leg every couple of seconds from her bored wiggling.

“Tetia. You need to feel how your body is naturally functioning if you wish to learn any healing magic.” Olruggio reminds, voice stern and when Qifrey peeks to see his expression, he finds the druid’s posture slumped and lips frowning in disapproval at the princess who has given up on keeping her own eyes closed, meeting his frown with one of her own, “You need to feel how your body naturally moves your magic around and how that can be used to heal the scraped knee you got yesterday.” Said scrapped knee was from a tumble she took towards the end of their stroll in the gardens. A very minor injury that they had swiftly applied a healing ointment to before calling it a day.

Tetia pouts, “That’s dumb; we have medicines to heal them already, why should I learn spells for something that is already taken care of?” Her small arms cross, clearly standing firm on her belief that she doesn’t need to learn healing spells, “And this way of learning is boring, why can’t we just practice the written spell and how to cast it?”

Qifrey has completely given up on his meditative state at this point, “Because healing magic is different, Tetia.” He keeps his tone calm as to not add to the tense energy already permeating the air, “You need to know how the human body works if you ever wish to heal it.”

Olruggio nods, “Exactly, we can’t heal broken skin if we have no idea how the body is able to heal it in the first place. It helps us avoid unnecessary accidents that will only worsen the injury.” He sighs when Tetia continues to pout, “I understand how annoying learning this branch of magic is- trust me- but every magic user must at least know the most basic of healing spells to ensure their safety, along with that of their companions. Imagine if one day you were out on an adventure and one of your party members ended up with a deep cut? You would all be too far for any professional medical help and you would be unable to close the wound to ensure that they didn’t get an infection.” His expression softens when Tetia’s own tenses with discomfort at the mental image, “See? Wouldn’t that be a horrible thing to experience? That’s why we’re insisting that you at least learn basic healing spells.”

Tetia sits with that argument for a moment, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped before she finally sighs dramatically and looks back up with determination, “Fine, but we should learn an earth spell afterwards to make up for now boring meditation is! I want to learn something new today, so either I learn the earth spell or Master Qifrey can teach me another air or water spell.” Qifrey doesn’t think he’s ever met such a bossy child before; he wonders if it’s because she’s a princess, or if she would have been like this even as a commoner.

Olruggio looks as if he wishes to argue, but slumps his shoulders and reluctantly agrees instead, “Whatever. Just close your eyes and focus on the magic inside and around you. Think about how you can use it to heal the skin on your knee- but don’t actually try anything. Messing up a healing spell is a very bad thing and I do not wish to deal with it.”

They enter a meditative state once more and Qifrey keeps a metaphorical eye on his student’s magic while he uses his own magic to relieve the faint ache in his missing eye- something he should probably do more of, if he’s being honest. The small headache recedes after a moment of focusing his healing and he is pleased to notice that his student was no linger wiggling beside him when he exits his meditation.

—

After a week of lesson time spent meditating and homework given to study diagrams on the human body- which were dumb down for a ten year old to understand- Tetia was able to heal a small cut she had gotten from flipping through a storybook she enjoyed reading during her leisurely time, meaning that she has mastered the minor healing spell.

While she studied the body, Olruggio and Qifrey had slouched over the same books on barnacles that the warlock had slaved over before the druid had made his appearance, their heads together as they came up with a water spell that might be enough to relieve the ancient dragon of her pests.

The trio were outside braiding each other’s hair while they spoke about the idea, “So, you’re going to use a really powerful geyser spell to pop the barnacles off?” Tetia summarizes, small fingers working to braid ribbons into Olruggio’s hair while Qifrey sits behind her to braid a few orange ones into her pigtails.

“Yep.” Olruggio replies, popping the p for emphasis, “And then she should be free of her pests and happier for it.” He was tickling Idyia’s stomach, the reptile- who was contently lounging in Olruggio’s lap before- was now squirming and hissing as he tried to escape the man’s fingers.

“Olly, leave poor Idyia alone.” Qifrey tries to chastise, but his smile made him only sound fond. There was a yelp from Olruggio’s position and his finger comes back with a small droplet of blood, “See? He’s quite feisty with his spines; he won’t hesitate to poke you with them.” The warlock smiles brightly when his partner turns to glare, his bleeding finger popped into his mouth and making him look like a pouting child.

“Master Olly, you can’t put wounds in your mouth; there’s a lot of germs in there!” The girl’s eyes flash gold and she smiles smugly when Olruggio’s finger comes back with no wound in sight.

The druid rolls his eyes- going for exasperated, but unfortunately for him, only looking proud, “Thank you Tetia.”

The little girl perks up considerably and chirps back, “Thank you for your thanks!” Before going back to roughly braiding the light blue ribbon into Olruggio’s hair, causing the man to flinch subtly at his hair being tugged.

His grumbles are ignored as he turns back around so that the princess stops having to grab his hair so harshly. Qifrey watches them interact with a soft smile, contentment bleeding throughout his entire being and only feeling grateful at having this peaceful moment between some of his closest people.

He should have known the princess was up to no good after she went quiet. She ties off the ribbon, satisfied with her work, and watching with a mischievous glint in her eyes as Olruggio turns around to better face his companions, baby dragon now wrapping itself around his exposed neck and beginning to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Tetia mutters a set of familiar words under her breath- ones that Qifrey is too slow to comprehend- before Olruggio’s beard explodes from his natural black hair and into a vivid hot pink in seconds.

Qifrey’s fingers stop in their braiding immediately and he stares, wide-eyed, at his partner. Olruggio seems to only be confused at the stares he is receiving from his companions before he realizes that they were looking at the bottom half of his face, so his hand comes up to wipes at the area self consciously, “What? Is there something on my face?”

Tetia is the first to respond, her laughter loud and full-bodied as she shakes, her eyes squeezing shut from mirth and falling to her side to roll around in the damp grass, getting stains on her clothes in the process, “You! You look so funny with pink hair, Master Olly!” She cries out between giggles, hands clutching her stomach as another wave of laughter rocks through her at the sight of his beard.

“Pink- pink hair?” He shrieks, going cross-eyed as he tries to catch sight of his facial hair and using both palms to cover the pink strands when he registers them, “Tetia! Turn it back at once!” His voice was loud, even with his hands covering his lips.

Qifrey covers his own face to hide his amused expression, shoulders shaking as he tries to contain his own laughter. The squawk of indignation from his partner makes him think that his laughter isn’t hidden enough, though, and he eventually peeks through his fingers to take in the outraged expression taking over Olruggio’s face. It was kind of funny, if he was being honest, and seeing Olruggio so worked up over the prank made Qifrey’s chest explode with adoration. His partner was so clearly displeased by this turn of events as he tried various counter spells on himself, eventually giving up after the fifth one didn’t do anything.

“I think you look cute, Olly.” Qifrey tries to sooth, hands falling to reveal his genuine expression. He did look cute, but even Qifrey can tell that his opinion was extremely bias, “Tetia’s spell is only surface level, though, so your beard will grow back it’s natural color.” He learned this from the queen after they had shared tea together one afternoon; apparently, not all the townsfolk enjoyed being made fun of by their princess- which was fair. Qifrey would have been a bit peeved if her first attempt at pranking him had succeeded.

Tetia had calmed down by that point and looked up at Olruggio from her place on the floor, eyes sparkling with humor and good fun, “I think your beard is silly anyways, Master Olly.” She provides rather unhelpfully.

“Your father also has a beard! What do you mean you don’t like my beard, when his is fine?” The druid was clearly put off by the suggestion of cutting off his beard, fingers carding through the strands mournfully.

“My dad’s beard is long! Yours is tiny.” She mimes twirling a medium length beard with her finger, “And his is pink! So, clearly his is better!”

Qifrey admits in the privacy of his own mind that the king’s beard is rather impressive, but he ignores the thought in favor of soothing his partner, “I’m sure you will look very handsome without your beard, Olly. What’s the worst that can happen?”

—

The warlock finds out later that night that the worst that can happen is the fact that his partner looks thirteen years old without any facial hair. His eye is stuck staring, shocked and a bit uncomfortable, while his partner wipes the last of his shaving cream off of his neck. The man really did have a baby face; his cheeks were round, and even with his naturally dark under eyes, the eyes themselves were bright and large when he stared back at Qifrey- clearly waiting for a reaction.

Qifrey kicks away his wish to express his befuddlement and instead smiles gently, “Handsome as always, Olly.” Idyia growls subtly where his head rests on the warlock’s collarbone, sending tiny vibrations through his chest and making him force a wider smile as his partner stares at him in disbelief.

“I look like a child, Qifrey.” Olruggio points out, expression imploring the Dragonlord to understand why he absolutely hates having a clean-shaven face, “I look like I shouldn’t be allowed in the taverns.”

Qifrey can’t help the huff of laughter from leaving his mouth, immediately covering his lips to try and stop any more from escaping, “No, no. I think you look very manly and like an adult.” He lies boldly, hand still firmly covering his smiling lips.

The druid sighs deeply before waving his hand, putting out the candles and making his way to his side of the bed, “Whatever. Let’s just sleep.” Qifrey hears the rustling of blankets and lowers his hand to smile in the dark like the terrible person he is, a small burst of giggles escaping his lips before a plush pillow smacks the back of his head, “Oi! Stop laughing at me and get to bed!”

So Qifrey does, depositing the baby dragon in his cracked shell and entering his side of the bed, smile still pasted on his lips from mirth, “I do think you’re very handsome still, Olly.” He pauses, “Just a bit too young for me.”

The rough pillow to the face was deserved, Qifrey will admit.

—

With permission granted from the king and queen, the two magic users plan for a trip up the rocky cliff with Princess Tetia the next afternoon. The hatchling stays firmly in place around Qifrey’s neck despite the fact that he had grown a bit too long for this in the few weeks since being outside his shell. His long tail reaches Qifrey’s hip, now, and his wide homocercal fin at the end of his tail is barely able to touch the warlock’s thigh. The dragon’s tail was quite long- likely for better ease at swimming- and his torso was the only part of him actually on Qifrey’s shoulders. He was also very heavy, but Qifrey prides himself in the fact that his muscles aren’t anything to sneeze at, so he doesn’t mind the extra weight as the trio hop from rock-to-rock.

Tetia denied help from Olruggio at the base of the cliff- stating that she had trained in air magic long enough to know how to kick off of stones safely- so now the druid is taking up the rear of the group to ensure that she actually has it under control and isn’t just trying to appear grown. Qifrey leads the charge and takes to standing closest to the cliff’s ledge once they finally reach the top.

Tetia is hopping on her toes in excitement as Qifrey calls for Tethyssa, voice firm and loud in the salty air. Olruggio glances around as they wait for the dragon to appear, feet shifting with nerves. He had stated that he had never actually seen a fully grown dragon before, and thus felt a bit anxious, leading to Qifrey teasing him about how he would end up acting when Sirocco or Idyia grow to be as big as Tethyssa that morning. That earned the warlock a slap in the face via pillow- once more earned.

The gush of air and sea spray from the ancient dragon emerging from her ocean home alerts everyone to her arrival, everyone watching in awe as she descends into the sky before diving back down to rest on the large cliffside rocks, expression warm and welcoming once she got herself settled, “Dragonlord Qifrey and Princess Tetia, what a pleasure to see you again.” Her keen eyes take in the nearby druid and she leans closer to inspect him, “And who is this?”

“This is my partner Olruggio- he’s a druid.” Qifrey introduces while said partner continues to stare in shock at the massive creature before him, “He helped me figure out a safer way to remove your barnacles.”

The dragon hums, her nose coming closer to delicately press into Olruggio’s chest in greeting before giving him space once more, “A pleasure to meet you then, Olruggio the Druid.” She looks back to Qifrey only to freeze. Her large eyes hone in on the baby around his neck, who stares back in a curious manner; his small face open and eyes flashing with recognition before he chirps quietly, the soft sound breaking the ancient dragon out of her stupor, “Oh.” She breathes, her whole being somehow softening further in her own form of awe, “And who might this be?”

Qifrey delicately detaches the hatchling from around his neck and supports the baby’s body on his entire arm, “This is Idyia, the dragon I came to Argentgard to hatch.” He watches as the ancient dragon moves closer, her huge muzzle aligning with the younger dragon’s own and taking a small sniff, “He’s only a couple of weeks old.” The Dragonlord provides, voice soft and aware of the sudden air of fondness that had taken over the small clifftop, “He hates crowds and loud noises.”

The older dragon finally huffs a tender laugh, “I’m sure he does.” She presses her snout to the little dragon’s before finally backing away, “Many sea dragons aren’t made to deal with large gatherings and the ocean isn’t very loud outside of when we experience storms. Many of us prefer solitude and quiet due to this.”

Idyia tries to flutter his wings and reach the larger dragon, but gives up once he tries to carry his heavy tail, landing back on Qifrey’s palm and wrapping himself around it in defeat, “He doesn’t seem to mind your company, though.” The warlock points out, his own fond smile growing on his lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited to meet someone before.”

The ancient dragon purrs at this information, “Of course he’s excited to meet me, seeing as I am his mother. I’d hope he naturally feels drawn to me.” Her eyes hadn’t moved an inch from the baby dragon’s position on Qifrey’s arm and she barely blinks in that same timeframe, “He’ll grow out of it once he’s older, but for now he’ll feel very comforted by my presence and he will miss me when I’m not there.”

Olruggio finally speaks, “You’re his mother? Like, the one who lay his egg?”

Tetia immediately responds, “Master Olly! That is such a rude thing to ask a lady!” Her words are meant to chastise, but her grin in laced with mischief.

The druid turns beat red, eyes wide as he bows, “I apologize! I didn’t mean to offend!” He stutters over his next words before giving up and bowing his head in defeat, blush quickly covering his neck and ears, making him look even more like a flustered tomato.

The dragon laughs in good humor, head shaking and eyes finally breaking away from her baby and to instead take in the embarrassed druid’s hunched form, “No need; I did not take offense to your question. To answer it, though, I did lay his egg- many, many decades ago.” Her expression takes a somber quality before she blinks and it’s gone, “But no more of that- you two came up with a way to remove my pests, yes?”

Subject officially switched, the druid takes the lifeline to instead ramble on about how their water magic that should be safe enough to remove her barnacles and keep her wings and scales from being further damaged. His voice was a bit faster than he usually would speak and he gesticulated more than he usually does, but Tethyssa clearly understood him by the time he had finished speaking.

“I see you both took great care in finding me a cure; I greatly appreciate it. What do you need me to do?” After a bit of directions being given and maneuvering being done, the ancient dragon’s wings were comfortably unfurled across nearby, flat rocks and her back was exposed for them to better see the strong pests still cluttered between her spines.

Qifrey takes up her wings, “If this hurts, please tell us. I do not wish to harm you with my magic.” He asks genuinely, hands working to form a blade of water that swirls quickly to provide the right amount of pressure needed to remove the barnacles with little effort.

“As you wish, Dragonlord.” She rests her head on the clifftop where her baby and Tetia sat, soon getting drawn into a conversation with the princess and dragon, while Olruggio and Qifrey get to work.

Qifrey keeps his hands steady as he moves to direct the geyser of water towards the target- a large barnacle that proved to be the worst of them with it’s size and hardened glue that hadn’t moved an inch before, but now popped off the leathery wing with an ease that shocked the warlock. The few left in that cluster popped off with the same ease, releasing the weight that was pressing on Qifrey’s chest from his worry that his idea might have not worked.

Not hearing any sounds of pain or seeing any injuries beside the expected, Qifrey moves to the next cluster, then the one after that, and so on and so forth until the set of wings on her side were clear and the damaged skin beginning it’s natural healing process. The second set of wings was the same, leaving him feeling proud and absolutely drenched with icy sea water by the time he and Olruggio were finished.

The druid comes down from the dragon’s back and lands gracefully beside his partner, a smile full of pride and satisfaction decorating is bare face, “We did good.” He acknowledges, hand raising for a deserved high-five, which he readily receives. Qifrey leans over to lay a sweet kiss on his cheek as well, before skipping off to inform his dragons and student of their success.

Tetia stands quickly at the news, leaving the baby dragon on his mom’s nose and hurrying over to inspect the job well done, “Wow! You did a splendid job, Master Qifrey and Olly! Her wings look good and I don’t see any other barnacles on her back! Can you teach me that spell later? Please?” Her eyes widen as she pouts- clearly pulling all the stops to better her odds of getting what she wants.

Qifrey sighs dramatically before smiling at the whine Tetia releases, “Fine, fine. I can teach you the spell later.” This earns him a cheer and a very excited student, while Tethyssa rights herself, not minding the passenger currently curled up on her snout.

Qifrey can guess what she will say even before she begins to speak, her words earlier already cementing the idea in his mind, “Dragonlord Qifrey. I would like to express my thanks for removing those pests from my body and to ask you of one more favor, if you don’t object.”

The warlock smiles kindly and nods, “You may ask me whatever you wish, Tethyssa.”

“I wish to take in Idyia and raise him in your stead. I would also ask if you will care to receive a gift in return for all you have done for me and our kind.” Her eyes are full of hope and gratitude- so much so that Qifrey almost feels overwhelmed by the bond that they now share between them growing in size.

“Of course, Tethyssa. You don’t even need to ask such a thing; I trust you enough to give you this hatchling and to allow you to do as you wish to in return.” He wouldn’t have needed any sort of gift, but he knows better than to try and argue about it when he can feel just how much this means to her through the magical link they now share.

“Very well. Please close your eye, Dragonlord.” He does so immediately, almost gasping at the feeling of ice that enshrouds his entire being before his mind is opened to thousands of strings, all of them a different color and all branching from a glowing female figure and to an unknown destination, “This is a prophecy foretold ever since the attacks began against our kin- dragon and magic alike.” Tethyssa’s voice narrates, the sound echoing in the space they’ve found themselves in.

Stars and darkness surround this overly bright space in the center of it all, not daring to encroach on the image being shared. The many strings float languidly as time moves on, a few snapping off and fading away as he watches in an overwhelmed shock, “Why did those strings snap? Should I be worried?” He speaks, but his lips do not move, even as his voice bounces around the space. He looks down to where his body should be and feels a numb sense of shock travel through his mind before he receives his question’s answer.

“That is the many possibilities being plucked away as the Child of Hope makes her own choices.” As she says this, a black string snaps off and fades in a glittery cloud, “It is nothing to be afraid of, for it is the natural order of things.”

He watches as a pink string fades in a cloud of sparkling pastel before asking another question, “Child of Hope?”

The dragon’s voice hums, clearly expecting for him to ask, “The Princess of Kalhn, the Child of Hope, the woman who will restore magic to where it should have been all along.” Qifrey’s vision swirls before he is viewing a painting that moves, the watercolors warping and playing out various scenarios- a few show a knight downed in battle, her dark locks caked with blood and dirt as the woman above her summons a powerful wave of magic before the image shifts to a gravestone, the name engraved on it blurred with what he assumes to be tears dropping on the paints, “She has a rough journey ahead of her, but all of these adventures end with magic being restored- no matter who she loses along the way.” The image changes to a sleeping woman who appears to shift between aging in her rest and waking from it, all outcomes resulting in- who he assumes to be the princess- folding in on herself in tears.

All of these seem to have a constant; the death of that unknown knight. This does not sit right on Qifrey’s chest and he goes to rub at the feeling before remembering his lack of body, “And who is that?” The images pause on a blurry scene of what appears to be a tournament. A pair of young squires standing before the thrones of the king and princess, the princess of whom was offering a dark green piece of cloth to the same knight he had just seen dead on the battlefield. Her face was a bit hard to see the details of, but rounded shape of her cheeks shows her youth and her small smile is clearly genuine as the image starts to move and she accepts the princess’ favor.

“The Knight of Hope.” The dragon responds shortly, “She is always by the princess’ side in every timeline- every journey sees her standing by the princess’ side and every journey sees her end.”

A flash of anger travels through Qifrey’s being and he feels frustration take over his mind, “Why show me such a tragic fate?” He demands, eye stuck on the continued images of two women spending their days traveling through forests and battling beasts- each scene from a different timeline. Each magical creatures is immune to the blade the knight carries, resulting in the princess trying to protect them both with her clear lack of training. Some timelines end at their first battle; the untrained princess either hitting her companion on accident, or her knight taking a hit so that the princess might live to fight another day.

“Because you might be able to change it.” The echo quality fades and he is once again in his body; damp clothes sticking to his cold frame and his eye watering immediately from the surge of emotions taking over his brain, “I know of a way that you can ensure the knight’s safety, and thus ensuring that the path the princess takes is the least harrowing.”

Determination takes over Qifrey’s sadness and he takes a step towards the ancient dragon, eye glowing with the urge to help these strangers experience a continued future together, “Tell me.”

—

“This is crazy.” Olruggio says for the fifth time since they had arrived back at the castle, hatchling-less and damp, “We don’t know how this will end if we intrude now.” The druid continues, throwing on his clothes after taking his warm bath and drying off.

“That’s why we don’t immediately act.” Qifrey says, hand working in the soft soap as he thinks about their next steps, “We plan a way to ensure everyone survives. We wait till she has escaped her castle and join the party early, leaving us the ability to keep their camp sheltered under out ward and keeping them satiated with healthy meals.” The memory of that fate of starvation due to them being unable to hunt in those blackened woods sent a shiver down his spine, “We gather more magical knowledge and better our healing skills.” Covering all bases would be the best thing to do, “We cannot let the knight or princess die- I can’t allow it.”

The very thought of failing these girls who must be only around Tetia’s age makes his heart hurt something fierce. His thoughts must show on his face, because Olruggio looks over and softens immediately at the sight of his expression, “Okay, then we should probably make a trip back to the settlement and figure out how to better our magic.” They both knew that they had a little over ten years to figure things out, but the thought of failing just because they did not act with haste gets Qifrey to hurry in his bath and dress in no time.

Dinner with the royals that night was somber as Tetia takes in the news of her tutors leaving to help someone else. The princess is clearly upset by this, but after hearing the reason behind their journey, her anger had turned to a reluctant understanding. The king and queen seemed to accept this announcement and the king brightens at the mention of Kalhn’s princess, “Princess Coco? Last I saw her was before the ban on magic was decreed; I haven’t traveled there much recently, knowing that their King might be apposed to my daughter’s presence. He’s a good man, so I don’t fear for her life, but I’d much rather avoid causing any diplomatic issue when we can continue speaking via letters.”

The queen’s expression sours, “Kalhn’s king might have been a good man before the ban, but he’s now nothing more than a tyrant to his people. His laws do nothing more than cause issues for the common folk.” Her venomous words seem to spook Tetia and she softens for her daughter’s sake, “But I’m sure you’re right, dear. I haven’t spoken much with the king of Kalhn; I usually spent my time with his wife during our visits.” Her expression turns mournful, “I feel horrible for what those people did to her, nobody deserves to lose time like that.”

The dinner went on with everyone’s moods lowered and when dessert comes out, the princess finally speaks, “You’ll visit, right?” Her wide pink eyes look to her tutors who sat across from her, “You won’t forget me?”

Qifrey smiles kindly, “Of course we’ll visit, Tetia. You are my student, after all. I’ll need to check up on your independent studies.”

This brightens her mood and she spends the rest of the meal talking about what spells she wishes to learn and what these lessons will look like after Qifrey leaves, the smile on her lips blinding to all the adults nearby and making their own lips twitch up into matching grins by the time they part for the night.

Tomorrow morning, the pair of men will set off on their destiny-altering journey together, feet pointed towards the very place they had both set off from. By this time next week, they will be greeted by the Arch Druid who will tease Qifrey about his own destiny and how Olruggio clearly made his own choice- whether he liked it or not. By this time ten years from now, Qifrey and Olruggio would have bettered themselves as magic users and get caught bickering by a stream by the very women they were waiting for.

They will set off on a journey to restore magic to Kalhn- and succeed, for it is what fate decreed ten years ago on that rocky clifftop next to the kingdom of Argentgard.