A Dragon's Tale Ch. 02

"Pathetic."

Rachel felt tears well up in her eyes. He had always been stern, but never cruel. Before today, he had never hit her or said an unkind word to her, though his minions weren't so lucky. Her childhood had been strict, but Rachel could always tell that he disciplined her to help her improve. She thought he wanted the best for her.

Now she knew better.

She recognized that look in his eyes. It was the look he gave to soldiers and servants who had failed so badly that he didn't consider them useful anymore. The first time she saw that look, he had been gazing at a sword that had broken in practice. He had thrown the sword away without a second glance. He had discarded it like the useless tool it was. Later that day, the smith who forged it was exiled from the city

He was looking at her that same way.

"Father, I-" Rachel started to say, but was stopped when the back of his hand smacked against her cheek. She felt the skin tear on one of his rings, probably his signet ring. He didn't hit her hard at all, but that single slap hurt more than breaking every bone in her body.

Something in her broke.

She could feel it.

She didn't know if it was her mind, her body or her spirit, but she felt it. She felt like an enormous hole had been carved out of her body, out of her soul. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if he had planned for this to happen. But it was a fleeting thought, quickly replaced by a profound sense of emptiness.

He still had that look of disappointment on his face.

She had seen that look on his face earlier when he had ordered that poor soldier to get out of his sight for failing to kill a dragon and a wood elf. She didn't want that. She didn't want to be sent away like some worthless person who had failed him.

The compulsion to obey prompted her to try and become useful again.

"I can prove myself," Rachel said, although now she couldn't meet his eyes and addressed her comments to the floor. "I'm not like that soldier who failed to kill the dragon and the elf. I'm better, I can do better."

"Can you?" Lord Delmar's tone left no doubt in Rachel's mind that he didn't think she could.

"Give me a chance and I won't let you down," Rachel said, though she wasn't entirely sure why. At that point, Rachel almost didn't even care.

"Very well," he said. "But you will get no head start, no advantage, and no special treatment. If you can kill the dragon and the elf before my other men do, then perhaps we can reconsider your position."

With that, Lord Delmar turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Rachel feeling like the floor had dropped out from under her life. Despite that, the compulsion whispered that everything would be okay again once she'd fulfilled her father's wishes. It seemed to blunt the force of those feelings, like they were coming from a long way off.

Rachel shook her head trying to clear it.

She didn't want to go dragon hunting. She hadn't meant to imply she would physically hunt them down, but that didn't matter because she had a mission now. She started considering the list of people in the castle she'd need to contact in order to find them.

In the back of her mind, Rachel knew that something was wrong with her. She didn't want to kill anyone, but she didn't have the emotional energy to fight that strange compulsion right now. The compulsion wanted her to please her father by killing the dragon and wood elf. The compulsion argued that all this soul-searching could wait until later.

Right now, she had a dragon to kill.

* * *

Alana felt like someone had used her entire body as a punching bag then strapped lead weights to her limbs and head. She was vaguely aware of being awake, but she just wanted to sleep. She kept her eyes closed and tried to fall back to sleep, but just couldn't do it.

She thought about opening her eyes, but that felt like too much work. So instead, she just listened. Judging by the noises, she was in a town somewhere. She could hear the clip-clop of horses, the squawking of chickens and the sounds of a busy marketplace.

How did she get here?

It slowly came back to her, her house burning, running from the soldiers with Ethan... Ethan! Despite the weariness and pain, Alana tried to struggle awake and up. She didn't succeed because her body just would not listen.

"Rest easy there little one," a deep voice said. She felt a warm hand touch her forehead.

"Unc... Garth?" Alana managed to say.

"Yes, it's me child. Now rest."

"Eth... than..." Alana managed to choke out. Her mouth was incredibly dry. A few drops of water dribbled onto her lips and she licked them up. Her mouth felt like a desert, but there was now a slow trickle of drops moistening it.

"The dragon is alive," Uncle Garth said. "Now relax, or all his work to save you will be undone."

Alana relaxed and the flow of water stopped. Uncle Garth had always been her favorite uncle and he had never lied to her. If he said Ethan was okay, then he would live. Oddly, just the strain of trying to sit up felt like a lot of work. She was tired now, and closed her eyes.

Sleep took her quickly.

* * *

When Alana awoke again, she felt much better. While her limbs still felt like lead weights, she could at least move them. She allowed herself a few more minutes of dozing before she opened her eyes.

She was in a small room built in the typical town style. She could see the exposed beams and there was a simple iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She turned her head and saw the room was simply furnished - a rough wooden table and a few dried stumps for chairs. Uncle Garth was sitting in one and leaning against the wall, snoring quietly

There was one other bed beside hers, and Ethan was asleep on it. Or rather, he was mostly on it. His tail hung over the end of the bed and his wings - normally held so close they seemed to disappear into his body - were hanging off both sides. He looked okay, but his breathing seemed shallow; not dangerously so, but he didn't look in the best of health.

Alana looked under the covers and discovered she was still wearing her green dress. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The motion made the bed creak and Garth snapped awake at the noise.

"Iswearit'srealsilver," he blurted out as he woke. He blinked for a few moments, then saw Alana awake and smiled. He got up and handed her a glass of water, which she promptly swallowed in one go.

"Welcome back to the living, Alana dragon-bride."

"It's good to be-" She smiled, then stopped as his words sank in. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

"Alana dragon-bride,"

"Now wait just a second. I hope you don't think that... I mean, I didn't mean to... We are definitely not married."

"You didn't share your deep mana with him?" Garth asked. "Or perhaps you didn't know what that means to an elf?"

"Of course I know what it means, but I only did it so save his life."

"You used so much it brought you to the brink of death little one. When the dragon found out, he shared his own deep mana with you to save your life. You both nearly died, but I was there when he did it. I felt the bond form between you."

"Yes, but..." Alana couldn't think of anything to say. Among elves, vows were merely a formality that weren't always included in a wedding. The sharing of deep mana tied two elves together more deeply than any vow could. Since no one could force an elf to share deep mana, the act itself was considered a vow.

"Is the beast unworthy?" Garth asked.

"He's..." Alana hesitated. If she answered his question honestly, she would confirm it in his mind. She sighed. "He's worthy, I think. He saved my life and put his own in jeopardy to keep me safe. I even told him to run, but he wouldn't. That's why he got shot."

"So, you saved each other's lives, shared an adventure, and then shared your deep mana."

Alana nodded. Garth got up from his seat, walked over to sit down beside her and put his arm around her. Alana promptly laid her head on his shoulder.

"Be happy Alana dragon-bride. You found a mate early in life and among a race as long lived as yours. Can you feel him through your bond?"

Alana closed her eyes. Her mother always said bonding with her father was like having a piece of him residing in her mind and heart. She said she could sense him when he was close and even sense his mood. Alana hadn't believed it at the time and had dismissed it as romantic exaggeration.

Now she started to reconsider.

She could feel something in her mind, something that definitely wasn't there before. It was a vague, nebulous feeling, like trying to describe a dream as it was fading. It was there, but didn't seem to have much substance.

"I can sort of feel him," she said. "But it's like he's far away or not quite here."

"The bond will strengthen over time," Uncle Garth nodded, then added with a wink, "It will get much stronger once he beds you."

"Uncle Garth!" Alana sat up straight as her face went bright red and she slapped him on the shoulder. "I am NOT going to bed Ethan, he's a dragon for pity's sake."

"We both know there aren't any female dragons and they need other races to breed," he smirked. "Besides, if the stories are true you'll be singing a different tune once you've tried him on for size — or should I say 'in' for size."

Alana punched him in the shoulder again, and then curiosity got the best of her. "What stories?"

"You haven't heard?" Garth asked. "Well, far be it from me to spoil your wedding night, little one."

"There won't be a wedding night," Alana said through clenched teeth.

"Then there's no reason for you to hear the stories is there?" he said with a wink. "Pretend I never said a word."

Alana opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Uncle Garth was a terrible tease and asking more questions about dragon stories would only egg him on.

Alana couldn't help but wonder though... Did dragons have some kind of special ability in the bedroom? Was it an old wives' tale? Or was she in for a treat if she and Ethan ever— Nope. She cut off that line of reasoning right there and refused to think about it any further.

There were a few moments of silence, which were interrupted by her stomach rumbling.

"I'll get some food for you," Garth said, standing up and walking through the door.

His head popped back in a moment later. "You need to get something warm inside you."

"Oh. Stop it!" Alana said, her face going bright pink again.

Garth guffawed, and then left.

Alana yawned and stretched, and then closed her eyes and checked her mana. As she had expected, she was running on empty. Her deep mana seemed to be replenished though. She groaned - she hated collecting mana in town. It was so much harder than doing it in the forest. She couldn't understand how some people thrived in the lifeless towns without greenery.

With a sigh, she reached out and started drawing the mana around her. To her surprise, it was much easier than it had ever been before. It was just as easy as in the forest, and possibly even slightly easier. She tried to relax and let the mana flow into her, but the ease with which she was drawing it in made her uncomfortable.

Uncle Garth returned ten minutes later. Alana had collected more mana than she thought possible in such a short time. Her mana was far from full, but the last time she had been in town it would've taken ten times that long to collect as much as she had. Even in her forest, it would've taken longer. Furthermore, she had had an easier time collecting it than ever before. While it was certainly convenient, the difference was unsettling.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Garth handed Alana a bowl of thick and hearty soup, chunks of vegetables floated in the bowl and it smelled heavenly.

"How hard is it for you to collect mana here?" she asked, then took a spoonful of her soup. It was quite good.

"About as hard as any other time. Why?"

Alana swallowed before answering. "Because I just refilled it faster here than in the forest."

"By Illuminar's light..." Garth's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Are you sure?"

Alana nodded. "Positive. Even in the forest I couldn't do it quite this fast."

Garth looked pensive for a few moments, and then glanced over at Ethan's sleeping form. "I did warn him there could be side effects."

"Side effects?" Alana asked after another mouthful of soup. "What kind of side effects?"

"That's just it, I don't know. I've never heard of an elf bonding with a dragon before. For that matter, I've never heard of a dragon bonding with anyone before. I mean, there's always been a rumor that Ithlan held dozens of women enthralled, but I dismissed those as old wives' tales not worth considering. And besides, there are a lot of rumors that surround our first emperor which are clearly false."

Alana nodded and took another spoonful. Emperor Ithlan was a confusing topic in history and there were as many anecdotes and opinions about him as there were people. About the only thing that everyone agreed on was that he was a dragon.

"So, you don't know what kind of side effects there could be?" Alana asked. "I mean, if it's just a matter of being able to collect mana more easily, then I could live with that."

"Hmm." Garth stroked his beard with his hand. "I did notice that the dragon seemed to do better when you were around."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been out for almost a week."

"A whole week!" Alana sat up in alarm. "I'll miss the staff buyer."

"Relax, little one," Garth said. "I found the staves near where I found you. Since you were unconscious, I met with your buyer, explained the situation and even got a few extra sympathy coppers because you were feeling ill." Garth reached down, pulled her coin purse out of his bag and set it down on the bed next to her. It was considerably fuller than when she had last seen it.

"I couldn't sell two of them though," he said. "They had a few scuffs and if I'm not mistaken dragon claw marks, so he passed on them. They're both in great shape otherwise though, so maybe you can sell them at a second-hand market."

"Oh, thank you." She let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. That was all the money she had for the foreseeable future. "But I interrupted you, what were you saying?"

Garth continued, "After the dragon gave you most of his deep mana, I returned him to his tent. Neither of you was doing very well, and I wasn't sure either of you would make it. Then we broke camp and I put you both in the same wagon while we were traveling. When you got close to each other, you both started doing better. That night when we made camp, I put you in separate tents and your conditions worsened again. In hindsight, it got worse whenever you two were separated."

"Really?"

Garth nodded. "I put you both in the same tent that night and both of you improved. That's why you're in the same room now. Honestly, if you had been separated I'm not sure either of you would have survived."

"You mean I'm going to be stuck with him forever?" Alana asked. She liked him well enough, but perhaps not that much.

"I doubt it. That's only because you were wounded. But the closer you two were, the faster you both seemed to replenish your deep mana. Once the dragon is well again, I'm sure you can go your own way."

"That dragon does have a name," she said.

"Protective of your husband?" he asked with wink.

Alana felt her cheeks go slightly pink. "No, I meant he has a name and you could use it."

"Fine, you can leave Ethan when he wakes up," He was trying to be casual about it, but Alana could tell he was watching for her reaction intently.

When she didn't take the bait he changed the topic. "So what will you do now?"

"With the staff farm gone, I have no idea."

"You could travel with us for a while. You have a sharp mind and I've got a few things you could do while you're with the caravan."

"I appreciate it Uncle Garth, but no. I would barely pull my own weight and I really don't want to freeload. I need to figure out what to do with my life." Alana thought for a moment then added, "Are there any orphanages near here?"

He chuckled. "Not that I know of, why?"

She shook her head. "Just something that Ethan said."

"You could always go home little one."

"The staff grove and my house have been destroyed."

"That's not the home I was referring to," Garth said quietly.

"Oh," Alana replied. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

He nodded. "I'm just saying it's an option. And you should tell your husband about it too."

"I left all that behind," Alana sighed. "There's no reason he needs to know. Besides, everybody always changes how they treat me when they find out and Ethan... well, I like things the way they are."

"Okay."

Outside the window, Alana could hear a commotion. She turned to her uncle. "Did something happen?"

Garth nodded. "The Bank owner's children were kidnapped about an hour ago. The news is all over town. He's so concerned he has already put out a contract bounty for their safe return."

"Contract bounty?" Alana asked.

"It's a stronger version of a regular bounty," he said. "He's contractually obligated to pay and the person who saves them is contractually obligated to accept the reward."

"Oh," Alana looked out the window and found herself wishing she could help them, but didn't see how. She looked over at Ethan and wondered what he would do.

"He will probably wake this evening or early tomorrow morning," Garth said.

"We have some time then," Alana smiled. "So what's new with your family?"

* * *

Ethan was pretty sure he was dreaming.

He was in the middle of a large battlefield covered in the bodies of dead soldiers. They were all wearing dark armor with the image of a stylized dragon on the chest piece. The stench was unbelievable. The foul odor of decaying bodies mixed with the congealed blood and excrement rose to the heavens, acting as a beacon for the vultures circling overhead.

All around the battlefield, small fires were burning and thick smoke rose into the air. It was daytime, but the clouds were so thick it was impossible to see the sky. The smoke, combined with the light from the fires, bathed the entire battlefield in a red hue.

A black dragon stood in front of him. The dragon's scales glinted in the firelight and his teeth looked like they could rip through steel. He was holding a wicked-looking mace in one hand and a kite shield in the other. Crouched in a predatory stance, his muscles were primed and his eyes spoke only of pain and death.

Ethan was holding a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, but he felt woefully ill-equipped to fight this ebony beast. Ethan could feel the magic rolling off his opponent in waves. The sheer amount of power was staggering. Ethan held the black dragon's gaze. If looks could kill, he would've died on the spot.

Without warning, the black dragon charged.

Ethan brought up his shield to defend himself, but was barely in time to block the blow. The black dragon moved faster than anything Ethan had ever seen, and he knew he was hopelessly outmatched. In a few seconds, he had lost his spear, his shield was broken and he had been knocked to the ground and pinned there. The black dragon raised his mace high above his head, and brought it whistling down at Ethan's face.

"Aaa!" He screamed.

He was ripped from the dream back into the real world a split second before the mace landed. Ethan flipped into a low crouch and growled, primed and ready for a fight.

"Well, he's awake anyway," said Alana laughing.

It took Ethan a few seconds to get his bearings. He was in a small room with two beds. The style reminded him of an English Tudor style home, simply furnished with a rough wooden table and a few dried stumps for chairs. Alana and Garthildur were sitting at the table talking. Or rather it looked like they had been talking. Right now they were both staring at him with almost identical amused expressions.