Archive of Our Own

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When you become a traveling storyteller, there are many things that surprise you throughout the process of your journey. I have learned much about this particular phenomenon over the course of several years, and without fail, that reality never seems to leave me. However, if I would have known this sooner, I doubt that alone would have stopped the wanderlust from settling in or the utmost need to craft a story worth telling for generations to come.

But those surprises certainly have their twists and turns. Most often, they lead a roaming eye and a fleeting mind toward uncharted and potentially dangerous territory.

Although this was a warning I knew as fact, it never stopped me from pursuing that dream. I must say, though, never did I imagine finding myself crawling into the entryway of a cave, doing something bold enough to set fear into the hearts of many a traveler, all to unveil the truth and come face to face with the noble beast that had been, as many poorly assumed, ‘terrorizing their land.’

… And never did I imagine that this ‘fire-spitting horror’ would hold the key to so many of my questions.

—

My name is Orpheus, and this is the story I have longed to craft since I was but a child.

At birth, I was granted the gift of the orator muse, carrying within my soul the need to document and recite the stories of noble heroes and clashing blades—of lands in distress and the shining beacon who saves lives and rises as the victor. Many said that my childish wonder would one day fade, but as I anticipated, I never grew bored of such a concept. The rush and thrill of an exciting life still made my heart race and encouraged said muse to take hold of me.

As one might expect, I never stayed in one place for very long. I never liked the idea of settling down alongside the comforts provided to me or remaining landlocked within the confines of a simple life. From the very day I was set free from the restraints of childhood, I left behind my shelter and chose to become a nomad, carrying only the essentials: a few days worth of food and water, a parcel of bundled scrolls, and many bottles of ink wrapped in leather bindings on my hip. For years, that was all I knew—all I longed for.

Unfortunately, looking back on my passage, most days left my inspiration rather bleak. When you’re a nomadic storyteller, it is wise to first seek out information by word of mouth, listening to the legends and stories of others who have already ventured forth and uncovered new terrain. However, in many of the places I called a temporary home, all of the troubles that inflicted them were of bandits, brutes, and the occasional wild beast. I’m not saying that these trials and tribulations didn’t have the potential to be magnificent stories—in fact, they absolutely did! But those who decided to pursue these feats always sought the same reward.

All of them, no matter where I ended up, sought pay before taking prize from the glory of battle.

Oh, how discouraging that became on my hunt for a tale to tell! Of course, one needed to be fed and properly clothed and have a residence to call their own; yes, money was an essential motivator for most men. But where was the thrill in that!? Where were the days of the warrior, the times of fighting because one should in order to protect and gain the love of the land? Part of me wondered if those days were long since gone, and while I shouldn’t give up on my craft, I should perhaps change my direction.

I thought this for quite some time, all until fate began to shift in my favor nearly a year ago.

—

As I continued traversing the expanse of the world, I came to find myself in Duskmeadow, a quaint village on the edge of a vast tundra. The people here were a typical lot—peaceful, calm, full of enthusiasm for potential growth. Though unlike most places I had resided, I chose to stay here for a prolonged time, as the atmosphere was hospitable and my times of trying to document something—

anything

—were rather dim. I decided I needed this break to begin determining the steps I would take next in pursuit of my work.

With that, I suppose my intuition knew best, for not long after was when the word “dragon” caught my ear. It first caught my attention while acting as a listener among the small cluster of people at the local inn.

“Haven’t you heard?” A voice broke in from the quiet chatter, solid hands clapping down upon the bar. “There have been sightings of a red dragon in this region! Taking people’s livestock and terrorizing villages left and right! What if ours is attacked next!?”

“Red dragon? What the hell are you talking about!? Are you sure you aren’t just hearing tall tales?” The innkeeper, a young woman named Demi Bourbon—a fiery spirit amidst her spirits—kept herself propped on the counter behind the bar, acknowledging the person in distress and raising a brow in disbelief. “The days of dragons are long since gone. This has got to be another instance of crying wolf, or haha, well, in this case, crying

dragon!

” She chuckled and shook her head as she poured another glass for a new patron, glimpsing over her shoulder at the former. “Probably more likely to be a wolf pack in the area, if you want my opinion on that. If need be, I’m sure there will be a group of hunters stopping in that will take care of that soon enough.”

“Psh, yeah, if you keep saying things like that, you’re going to get the entire town riled up,” the new patron added in, rolling his eyes before taking a sip of his swill.

“Dragons?” I couldn’t help but interrupt their discussion. I was already too deeply invested in the likelihood of this being real or at least getting a lead.

“Oh, really? You, too, Orpheus? You aren't going to go play town crier on us, are you?”

“No, no. I have no intention of spreading fear among the public. Forgive me for interrupting, but I heard you mention the days of dragons. You’re aware I’m not from around this region, so I’m not familiar with the lore. What were those days like?”

“Here. Take this off my hands.” Demi poured me a glass of rich, amber-coloured drink and rested it down on the countertop; after taking a sip (from the taste, she’d given me a smooth, rich honey mead), I lowered the glass and listened closely to her explanation. “Of course, I can’t tell you everything, being that all of this happened many, many years ago, before I was even born, but I can give you a good idea of what I know. Since you’ve set foot onto the edge of the tundra, it might be wise to know that this area is prime for a good deal of activity out in the wilds. But back in the day, the biggest creatures that roamed throughout this territory were dragons. Considering how horrible it would be for them trying to conceal themselves in snow, red dragons, like the one this guy supposedly heard about, weren’t so common. Doesn’t mean they weren’t unheard of, but white dragons were a lot more frequent around here.

“For a long time, neither caused much of an issue to the human towns. In fact, I think there was a truce between the dragon clans to attempt making nice with the humans. But ya know how that goes. They were hunted down at some point, and if they didn’t, they left due to all the hostility. Think there might have been a war involved or something? Either way, since then, no dragons have ever been spotted. Don’t seem to blame them, either. But that’s about all I know.”

I nodded, taking another sip. “Ah, thank you, miss. That’s more information than what I was expecting and enough to give me a starting point.”

“No problem! But like I said before, no need to be so formal! Just Demi’ll be fine.” She extended a hand to clasp upon my shoulder. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

“I wish I could say yes, but that just means you’ve given me further interest. It seems I have a lot more research to conduct ahead of me.”

“Research, huh? Any reason why ya want to know so much? Are ya deciding to pursue becoming a dragon researcher or something?”

“Still just a simple storyteller, still chasing that new spark of inspiration. It’s been far too long since I’ve heard anything this interesting, so I’m hoping it will be fruitful.”

“Hmm. Fair point. Well, in that case,

Mister Storyteller

, I might know the right person for you. Go to our town archivist. I’m not sure how much she knows about dragons, but if anyone knew, it would be her. And make sure ya tell ‘er the local innkeep sent ya down!”

—

The archives—by then, I knew them well. But of course I would. It was my favorite place in the entirety of Duskmeadow. The archives appeared small from an outsider’s point of view, but on the inside, it was a massive, well-arranged space of books and scrolls from floor to ceiling, kept in proper tidiness and organized with absolute scrutiny. Any loremaster or historian would appreciate the craftsmanship of the place’s arrangement and see it fit for obtaining knowledge of all sorts.

However, as for the archivist, she was much unlike the innkeeper. The dark-eyed scholar was not one for light conversation or friendly back and forth, but she clearly possessed a well of information on all sorts of subject matter. Otherwise, how would everything have such pristine order? While neither of us spoke, we held a mutual respect for one another while she allowed me to explore its tranquil depths.

This time, however, talking with the archivist proved to be rather beneficial.

“Demi, the innkeeper, told me that you might know something about records on dragons?”

While fanning through the pages of an ancient book, her flipping fingers suddenly came to a halt. Intense amber peeked out from dark lashes as she carefully closed what she had been reading. “For what purpose do you need to know? Information on draconic beings is under strict protection here.”

“I intend to use what I learn for personal research.”

“What sort of personal research? Be more specific.”

“Storytelling purposes and those purposes alone. I don’t mean to cause any panic or harm by learning further about them.”

I could see her grimace as she tucked a few strands of long, onyx hair behind her ear. Clearly, my reason didn’t fully convince her. “Their travesty is not what I would consider a focus for your personal entertainment, Orpheus.”

Had I ever told her my name?

“What they suffered through is far too great to make some sort of epic narrative about dragons your masterpiece. With so many still holding onto generations of fear and prejudice, I would be wary of you doing so.” She hesitated, glancing down at her book while standing in silence. “But then again, perhaps taking a look might help you build a deeper comprehension of what I mean. You’ve been stopping by multiple times since you arrived here and have never brought me grief, so maybe you would be an exception and understand what that dark past means for the fate of their entire species. Come with me.”

Tome upon tome of documentation and writings on draconian-themed works of the past were now accessible to my hands as she guided me into a private section of the archives. With her watchful eye upon me and standing guard, I spent several hours—

days

of investigation, finding many recollections revolving around the times of the Red and White Dragons. Overall, I quickly learned of their desire to build a union with their human counterparts, how they longed to provide them with the hidden magic they possessed for the sake of good, going as far as to bless newborns with the gift of their abilities so they could one day protect themselves with the might of the dragon. Lastly, I stumbled across what brought forth their ultimate downfall after the decision was made to share their powers with mankind.

It was … tragic. It was

sobering

. Greed had always been the one thing that made humans show their ugliness best, and as a result, their megalomania was what put dragons to ruin. By what the records stated, there were very few that had a chance of survival after the onslaught, and still, most were younglings who would have struggled to thrive without a proper guardian. Even I could recognize that the chances of seeing a dragon around this area were minimal, if not zero.

“Now do you see what I mean?” The archivist inquired on my final day of consuming her literature. “Mankind has laid ruin to the age of the dragon. There is no pleasant story one could pull from those records, let alone from another mouth. And even if there was, no living scaled beast would ever make themselves known to mortals to tell them, if they knew what was best for their safety.”

“Maybe not a pleasant one, no, but an honest one might be necessary.” In fact, I begged to differ. I wasn’t one to shy from dark subject matter, and knowing that a story to build empathy of what was once deemed sinful, although a difficult feat, could be world-changing. “It might require me to go on quite arduous adventures, even greater than simply traversing the land, but if I’m able to find one dragon and learn of its strife, perhaps then I can do something truly great in this world.”

I turned to the archivist, noticing her shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “I hope you don’t come to regret it, but I’m not going to be the one to stop you. What makes you think you would be so lucky as to successfully have a heart-to-heart encounter with a dragon? I mean, without getting your head bitten off in the process.”

“I suppose that’s a risk I’m just going to have to take.”

—

It was indeed a risk … a risk that might have proven to be dangerous for me in various ways.

Could I stop thinking about what I had read? Of course not. Could I pull my mind from this frenzied desire to learn more about these creatures who had been destroyed and ostracized by cruel hands? No.

Never.

The information flooded my mind nearly every waking moment and left me captured in the throes of desperation with my own enthusiasm. The oil seemed to burn fast those nights, and my scrolls were starting to be filled again with fresh plans, ideas, and concepts for what I would create with the purpose of telling the story no one wanted to tell.

Yes, my new goal was to venture out and find a dragon, no matter the cost. At a point, I was even convinced that I needed it more than I needed air to breathe.

The only matter now was to find a worthy companion to join me on my search. After much deliberation, I determined proceeding alone was not possible from this point forward. Doing so

could

mean significant danger, and the last thing I needed was to meet my fate on my passage to the development of my magnum opus. Easier said than done, though, at least not here. Duskmeadow wasn’t a well-traversed place, and although there were hunters that stopped in, most, from what I could tell, seemed to seek out more simplistic, local work that would get them long-term residence and steady pay. I knew this would be the more difficult part of my next step, but with the muse taking control of nearly every one of my waking thoughts, I had to allow hope to boil in my blood and continue to use the paper as a proper outlet … at least until that day would arrive.

And one day, it did. Approximately a month into my enlightenment phase, I was pulled aside one morning on my way downstairs. Demi, who snatched hold of my attention the moment I reached the bottom of the staircase, motioned me over quickly and proceeded to grab hold of my arm to pull me in closer.

“Hey, hey,” she whispered.

“Err. Yes?” I had no idea as to what had her so excited.

“Look over there, but don’t be too obvious. Some guy, right? Just drifted in this morning. Doubt he’s an assassin; probably a hunter, from the looks of him, but he’s nothing like the normal folks that come in here. Seems like just the kind you’ve been looking for to help with that story of yours, Orph.”

“What … ? Some guy—”

“Over

there!

” I had no idea what she was talking about until she gripped my face and turned it in the direction of a figure sitting quietly in the corner of the room. It took me a moment to realize what she was excited about in regards to this fellow, but when I saw him,

I could not deny how perfectly the cards of opportunity fell into my lap.

From one look alone, I could feel the telltale muse in me begin to buzz and fill me with delight anew.

When I first caught sight of him, I couldn’t deny that the supposed hunter was a startling one to behold—even beautiful, I’m certain, in the eyes of many. With blood-stained red on silvery locks and a glint of molten gold peering out a nearby window, he was something that could have only been spoken of in a fairytale. The plated armor he wore shone with the majesty of greatness. He stood out sorely amongst the crowd of common folk from looks alone. By no means, though, did he act as though he wanted that recognition, as he sat in solitude and minded his own, picking away at a plate of food and having a drink.

“See? I’m right, right!?”

And what she was saying could not have made more sense to me than it did. Everything about him spoke for itself. I took him as a prayer that had unexpectedly been answered, so of course I would want to speak with him. Something in me was screaming out loud that this was meant to be my person—the one who could come along on my exploration for new dragon lore.

“Go say hi! Make nice and get to know him!” With a nudge, Demi pushed me away, leaving me standing awkwardly between the bar top and the expanse of room that kept me at a distance from the hunter.

Now, how was I to approach this? I could very well have gone over and directly interacted with the hunter, or I could have waited a while longer for a more subtle tactic. I didn’t have much time to debate, seeing as I wasn’t certain as to whether or not he would stay very long, so direct it was.

“Morning!” I started, providing pleasantries before having a seat. As I got comfortable, the smell of bacon, eggs, and herbal tea wafted in the air nearby—a likely residue of the man’s breakfast. “Fine morning it is, too, especially for a hot meal. Been out for long?”

His head slowly craned its way over toward me, but he refused to make eye contact, one brow perking upward as he lowered his plate. “It is, I suppose. A fine morning. For the time being. What is it that you want from me?” His voice possessed eloquence, as though coming from a life of regality, with a small twinge of uncertainty intermingled within.

“Just thought I might come greet you with a warm welcome, being that you’re new in town. Have a chat, help you get comfortable.”

“If that were true, you would have remained standing, I believe, instead of sitting so close. Are you trying to steal my gold or deceive me? Later pull your blade on me?

Woo

me? I’ve already had others try catching my eye this morning, and I’m afraid to say you aren’t much better looking or interesting with your small talk.”

I never expected this conversation would be such a task. I mean, I

did

have ulterior motives—you know, with finding a properly armed protector for the next segment of my journey and all. However, it seemed his trust wasn’t easily given. Made sense, really. I knew, for one, that traveling out on your own was a dangerous feat, no matter how much armor you wore, so having one’s guard up was wise. Quite wise.

“No, I can assure you that it’s nothing of the sort.”

“Then what is it that you truly seek from me? Your efforts in beating around the bush aren’t appreciated.”

Considering his reactivity, honesty seemed as though it would be the better option in this sort of situation. Well, somewhat. “I mean well, sir. I’m but a traveler like yourself, coming upon circumstances that will prove to be difficult in the foreseeable future. I’ve been hoping to stumble across a bold soul who would know their way around handling—”

“Ah, there it is.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue and hoisting his cup to peer down into the hot steam pouring from its surface. “Not even bothered to think that I might prefer to travel alone.”

“I apologize if that’s how it seems, but I would at least make certain to do what I can to pay for the assistance! I’m a storyteller of sorts who’s a little on the desperate end of tracking down my next opportunity.” I knelt forward, folding my hands together as I leaned in closer. “Hell, I’m sure

you

have plenty of stories to tell of all the gallant acts you’ve conducted! I would love to listen to what

you

have to say, if not anything else.”

And that was the bona fide truth. With someone as eccentric as the man who sat nearby appeared to be, one could only imagine the sights he’d seen and the challenges he’d faced. If first appearances were telling, the hunter might very well have been just as interesting as the dragons I was trying to seek. Who knew what sort of ideas could spur from one deep conversation with the man?

Alas, not the case.

“I have no desire to have my story told. Not any longer.”

The idea was shut down just as quickly as it arose in my mind. I felt myself wilt at his declaration. “What … exactly do you mean?”

“What I mean is that you should keep your nose in business that is your own and not protrude in that of mine. Now, do you mind? I’ve already had enough people make an attempt to interrupt my meal this morning by flashing a smile or spewing a threat.” And with that, he finally indulged in a sip of tea, now refusing to acknowledge me or show he was remotely invested in anything I had to say.

I knew he had no interest in talking to some stranger who engaged in a conversation for his own gain. I was foolish in thinking otherwise. However, I couldn’t doubt that this made me all the more fascinated with him. A hard catch often meant a vast reward, so surely he was a treasure trove of information and skill in more ways than I could ever fathom.

And here I thought dragon lore was enough to ignite my muse. Little did I know, it would soon burn brighter than ever, the lingering shroud of mystery acting as proper kindling.

—

In the passage of a week, the hunter chose to depart multiple times. Surprisingly enough, he was always in the inn by early morning. In that time, I did everything I could to discover more about him and determine why Duskmeadow had been his destination in the first place.

As I soon learned, thanks to Demi’s gentle prying, Frederick Kreiburg was the hunter’s name. While this was a step in the right direction, it granted me no idea regarding where he hailed, what his role was, and why he was so set on maintaining a sense of solitude. And speaking of solitude, many learned quickly not to pay him any mind or interrupt him in whatever sort of business it was that he was trying to uphold. Otherwise, they would be met with disappointment and a sharp tongue. I just so happened to be one of the first who came to understand this.

Even with his sourness, Mister Kreiburg’s allure never did quite fade for many of the townsfolk. It certainly caused an increase of maidens peeking in through the windows and creaking open the door of the inn just to get a look, to which Demi had to excuse herself multiple times for the sake of ushering them away.

It was difficult not to wonder … was my effort any better than the swooning and sighing of these young women? After all, I did what I could to try and summon more words out of him during our mornings sharing the inn space without trying to interfere too terribly. I allowed myself to fall into a routine of coming downstairs, carefully whisking the freshly filled breakfast dishes off the counter, and striding over to greet him.

“Your breakfast,” I announced like clockwork, each time extending two hands—one with the plates, the other with tea. Without complaint, he would take it, give a word of thanks, and proceed to enjoy the meal provided.

By the end of the week, my gall got the better of me yet again and led me to have another go at winning the favor of the hunter. I decided that now was better than ever to attempt to speak with him beyond the normal two words, especially if he decided to take his leave soon—I doubt he expected to stay much longer. Therefore, with breakfast in hand yet again and a quiet, “You’ve got this!” from the optimistic innkeeper, I trotted over to his side again.

It was easy to see he was becoming more comfortable. This morning, he sat peering out the window with only part of his armor still worn, albeit his trusted dagger still resting solidly on his hip. His hair was also cast down along his shoulders, and the barest hint of lingering sleep cast a haze in the glint of his eyes.

“Your breakfast.”

“Ah, thank you.” As per usual.

“Mister Kreiburg, call me curious, but do you get to eat this consistently while on your travels?” I took my usual nearby seat, waiting for an answer I wasn’t expecting to be given. Considering this was, yet again, more small talk chatter that would likely be dismissed, I was anticipating at least a glare of disapproval.

However, neither ever came.

“Does anyone? If there is, I would certainly love to meet them.” He flooded his porridge with a small saucer of cream, using a spoon to mix it together with slow whisks. “It’s not the easiest life to live unless you know what you’re doing. Villages like this are helpful when the harvest is low and when meat is scarce. Such as right now. It’s getting colder, so the hunt isn’t the greatest. At least when I’m hunting, there’s only one mouth to feed, but …”

“But there are days you still go hungry.”

He took a pause to down his spoonful. “Of course there are, especially as of recent. It’s one of the reasons I stopped in Duskmeadow before moving forward again, aside from restocking on other essentials.”

Well, that answered one of my questions. It also did just what I needed it to for the purpose of gaining the best opening. “You know, Mister Kreiburg, if you had someone else with you, perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult. I can safely say I’ve never gone hungry myself, and I could ensure the same for you.”

And that’s when he realized …

“Again? Why must you be so insistent on going with me? I already told you no.”

“And like I told you, I’m desperate. And persistent. If I can offer you something of benefit, then would that not give you proper reason to have me along?”

“Having you along would cause trouble. I’m not doing my part protecting someone who can’t fend for themselves.”

“Oh, then what a relief! I can already handle my own. See, you may not know it, but I’ve been traveling by myself since the beginning of my adulthood. The only thing that’s changed are my goals. They are now something far greater—far more ambitious—than I feel comfortable handling on my own. Having a second set of capable hands to provide needed support is all I need. There’s nothing you need to worry yourself over for my sake.”

He started to rebuke again, but instead, the words never reached open air. Instead, it was the first time he made eye contact with me; I knew well that if he was capable of staring a hole right through my skull, he would have. He was at a loss for words as he lowered his spoon back into his bowl.

I could feel a smirk start to curl the corner of my mouth. “So what do you say? I think it could be a fine arrangement, if you give me a chance.”

“Fine. Once I leave by morning light, you best be ready to depart. Otherwise, I will not hesitate to leave you behind. Furthermore, the moment you begin slowing me down, I will leave you for the beasts to pick at your bones; the moment you make me question trusting you, I will gut you like fresh salmon. Is that understood?”

“I would expect nothing else.”

Success never tasted sweeter than it did upon his surrender.

—

And with that, the two of us left Duskmeadow to venture toward a new horizon. What was to be in store for us, at that time, was entirely unbeknownst to the both of us. Not that that bothered me—the very idea of immersing myself into the unknown was enough to satisfy the muse for the time being. That was when I truly began planning out the documentation for the next era of my life.

My initial recordings took place over the course of several months, although most of it had minimal dealings with the dragon lore I longed to ascertain, minus a few bits and pieces I found in other towns. This was because, while on the road, I came to learn far more about my traveling partner. Of course, mine and Frederick’s companionship began with a rocky start; it was evident just how humoring my many inquiries and efforts to get along were punctuated with begrudging huffs and displeased side-glances pointed in my direction. But thankfully, that didn’t last long.

In fact, after about a month of traveling together, we started having more and more opportunities to bond. I came to learn that he was no ordinary hunter—not like any I’d ever been accustomed to seeing, anyways. He didn’t like to dirty his hands nor take a life without genuine purpose or for survival. He experienced mercy on the weak and longed to be of service for some greater purpose—what that was, I wasn’t certain, but he thrived on the idea of equivalent exchange. Perfection. Orderliness. Everything in his eyes had structure and a means of accomplishment that was to be followed accordingly, down to his morning routine of having breakfast, peering at the sunrise, and finding a private place to tidy himself and mentally prepare for the next part of his journey. To think a man like him was fine with the organic nature of the wilds was stunning.

On top of that, he was quite the intellectual beyond navigating the wilds, well-versed on many subjects including the art of warfare, history, and most significantly, music. He took great delight when I shared with him some of the lyrical poetry I’d crafted during our downtime. “Not sure why you didn’t decide to become a songweaver instead,” he’d proclaim. “You have a knack for that artform.”

And every time, I would reply, “It’s not where my heart is, Mister Kreiburg.”

Genuinely, it wasn’t. That was when I began filling scrolls about him and his habits. Not for a second did it feel I had told everything there was to tell, and that alone kept my attention. I wasn’t entirely sure when this fascination turned into admiration or when that admiration transformed into … well, something much more. Alas, Father Time, as always, proved to throw surprises from his bag of tricks.

One night in particular stands out clearly in my mind when thinking about my acceptance of this revelation. Huddled around the fire, the two of us sat in one another’s company, a gentle wind picking up and making the embers flicker and glow brighter. He had just finished preparing dried herbs for tea, and the hot cups sitting in front of us were in the process of cooling, their steam dancing in tandem with the flow of the flames. By then, I estimated it to be early spring. While there was still residual frost, there were little, multicolored buds coming to life and the earthy wet aroma of grass and soil, alongside plenty of fauna beginning to emerge from the once silent world with their young.

Prior to this, Frederick had been settling in for the evening, plucking free his armor and tending to his own matters. In the meantime, I decided to write by the light of the campfire, which was easier said than done but fine enough to plot out and organize more information I had gathered from a few days before.

For once, he started the conversation, albeit with a rather peculiar offering.

“Are you cold?” His voice called out to me, not too long before a streaming sheet of red and gold was planted across the surface of my legs. “We’ll be turning in soon. I know spring is fast approaching, but you look like you might need this more than I will.”

His … cape?

“I mean, thank you for offering, but don’t you need it?”

“No. In fact, I’m quite warm with it on right now. Might as well put it to good use. If I need it back, I’ll be certain to let you know.”

“I mean, if you insist …” While adjusting the cape now draped across my lap, he went back to finishing the removal of his golden plating. I couldn’t deny that he left me rather puzzled, my brush going still as I watched him closely, trying to catch his eye in the barest glow of the flames we shared. All I could see was a look of discontent—of something cumbersome on his mind.

I didn’t understand it at the time. It wasn’t too terribly cold. I slept in colder without so much as my clothes and cloak, but this? What had motivated him to provide me with this random act of kindness? But before I could ask—

“You’re so inquisitive, but I never get to know much about you. How fair is that?”

“Hmm?”

“Your name is Orpheus, you’re a wandering storyweaver who is

enlightened by the muse

, but is that really all there is to you? I sincerely doubt that.”

Ah, so beneath all those layers of armor rested a pool of curiosity. Did he want to find a way to start a conversation without seeming too direct? I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “It’s because you never ask. I’d be more than happy to give you that information, if you’d like.”

“Hmm. Is that so? So be it then.” He gave a small, pleased nod in understanding, extending a hand to reach for his tea and take a delicate sip. “You never told me why you chose to come out here in the first place aside from the obvious. You must be nearly out of your mind trying to find a proper subject for your story in the wilderness. All the towns we reach bear no news to speak of, and the dangers we face—no offense—are not meant for someone whose primary goal is to write a story. Would a proper desk and a place to call home not be efficient enough for you?”

“You would think that would make it that easy. But there’s so much more than just the writing process that gets me motivated to be out here. I could have stayed home. I could have had a simple life. But that’s not what I wanted. I wanted more, and I’ve found more than I ever bargained to find. To be expected from a man who decided dragons were the topic of choice!”

I thought he would have nearly spilled his tea with how quickly he whipped around. “Wait, you … no. Repeat that again, will you?

What

are you researching?”

“Dragons. That’s what I’ve been trying to conduct research on. That was why I took my time in Duskmeadow. I’ve been learning more and more about their history and what was ultimately taken from them. You would think other storytellers would realize there would be stockpiles full of information on the subject, but that’s not the case.”

Frederick abruptly paused, turning to look over at me with the most attention I’d ever been granted by him. “You actually want to tell a story about dragons? But why? Why are they so significant to you, especially when you’re practically chasing a fable by this point? You really think you could find one, let alone survive to tell your tale? Would you

die

a brutal death for the sake of it coming to light?”

“What’s the point in being an orator of the finest tales if I don’t take risks, Mister Kreiburg? I mean no harm to them, but I could already have guessed that no surviving dragon would trust me enough to let me do my work in peace. I know I could very well die, but would it not have been worth it in the end, if it meant I could be the first to attempt telling a story worth their time?”

He took a moment to consider my opinions, staring into the blaze in what appeared to be an ongoing solemnity. “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about much else than shedding blood and bringing my own story to a close. Thinking about whether or not it would have been worth it, though … I’m not so certain anymore. I’m glad you have an honorable dream. It’s more than I can say for myself.”

For once, I could sense genuine vulnerability in his words—a depth without an end in sight, an evident crack in his intensely guarded mind. I could only sit and wonder what this man experienced, what war was waging within him, and what I could do to pull him out. I knew that one wrong move could easily have gotten me scalded by his words, but I dared to reach out and touch him, to quietly console and brush the hair from his face. As I did, I could feel its buttery soft, silken texture, a feature not expected on a battle-worn soldier but perhaps of some noble in a kingdom far, far away.

Miraculously, a scolding never came, neither did a slap to the back of my wrist. In fact, I wondered for a moment too long if his sudden lean forward was accidental, and the initial spark it caused in the midst of my chest encouraged me to proceed until I was inevitably forced to let go.

“Frederick, you say that I’m the enigma, but if I am, then what are you?”

“My own enigma, with my own agenda.”

“And what sort of agenda is that?”

“One that no other should ever bear witness to,” he admitted. Surprisingly, he tilted his head to the side, and in response, I stroked his hair downward. “Including you.”

“Is it really so terrible that you—”

Scratch that.

“Better yet, has no soul ever allowed you to feel anything other than the pain that comes with this so-called agenda? No warmth, no gentleness? No touch without harm attached?”

“If I have, it has been far too long to remember what it feels like. What I do remember has long since been substituted with being met with …

other such feelings

cast in my direction. I’ve learned to live without them.”

Every element of him—his easing posture, his wavering sense of trust, and the other collective pieces that made the expanse of Frederick’s innermost portrait—were riddled with the screams of a muted agony, laced with order, control, and the need to be heard. I knew nothing about his past, but if I was one to observe, I would say that he had been forced into this upstanding role instead of being given the chance to truly feel alive on his own.

And when his eyes were slowly covered by the fanning of those soft, pale lashes, followed by the tender sigh that escaped as a warm breath … I knew what I wanted to do. What I

had

to do. The gesture alone filled me with a new sort of thirst for knowledge, and without further ado, I moved in to claim it. To hell with hesitation!

With both hands now cupping his face, I pulled him forward and claimed his lips, their suppleness possessing herbal earthiness and spice as I sought his kiss. Soon, and rather unexpectedly, I could feel the firmness of leather-tipped fingers glide along my knuckles and clasp hold of my left hand, the mouth now locked with my own accepting the gift it had received.

Oh, what a twist—he wanted this, too! It would have been a prime time to boast about climbing over the metaphoric walls he had built around his heart of ice, but I dared not. In fact, I knew I would not be satisfied until that frozen jewel in his chest was sufficiently thawed and was mine for the taking. And this? This was a good start.

My free hand moved to cradle the back of his head, once more tangled in his locks, searching for a means of drawing him closer, closer into the fire that was building between us; and on his own, he accepted the call, crawling forward to hover over me and to close off what little distance we had.

In the midst of his readjustment, I could feel the force of his hands balled tightly into the front of my tunic, holding me in place so he could obtain another … and another … and another with such force that it took my breath away. It turned from me kissing him to him completely encapsulating me, a warm tongue that matched the heat radiating from the remainder of him lapping at where my lips parted and seeking access.

And I was willing to oblige. I wanted him to feel what it meant to be adored, to receive affection and be doused in it like a life-bringing rain.

But then he broke the kiss. Too quickly.

“ … Frederick … is everything all right?”

“No … no, no, no … I … You … no,

I

can’t do this,” he exhaled amidst the shaken gasps he took, his trembling hands coming loose to scrub his arm along his face. “You don’t

want

to do this, Orpheus. Not with me.”

Was he … crying?

“And what if I do? With

you?

”

In fact, what if it had been on and off in my mind throughout the evening?

“To be quite frank, I’d actually rather have your tongue in my mouth than your words. If it’s because—”

“It’s not you. Just … just trust me. We can’t.

We shouldn’t.

”

“No. Not until you tell me why.”

“I can’t!”

I tried my best to grip hold of his arms, but his strength in that moment proved greater, his body releasing me and recoiling from my hold entirely. In a matter of seconds, Frederick was on his feet, in the process nearly getting tangled in the cape across my lap and half tripping over extra branches that had been gathered for the fire. To put it simply, he was completely disheveled—unraveled—and I had no idea why such a reaction came from someone who had been so eager to reciprocate only seconds before.

“What the hell is wrong!? Talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I … I can’t be here right now. I … need to catch my breath. Clear my head.”

“Frederick, wait!!”

If only I had known then what I know now, maybe it wouldn’t have been so jostling to see him urgently slip away into the darkness of the wilds beyond our camp. Perhaps it would have made more sense to be patient and learn more about what might cause such erratic statements and behaviors before acting on a whim to mend his damage, thinking my captivation with him alone could repair it. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. That knowledge was not yet mine to have. Thus the feelings of shock and unexpected rejection left quite a sting upon the chords of my heart.

However, the reality that had yet shown itself was what utterly crushed those same heartstrings and put dread in the pit of my stomach; by the breaking of dawn, after waiting for him all night, he still hadn’t made his return to our campsite.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The smoldering smoke of the once lit campfire tainted the air of morning. There were few embers remaining, which flickered in a dull glow among ash and charred brush, likely to die out before too long. Meanwhile, I found myself transfixed on watching as the abyssal tones of dusk faded into the warmer tints of a watercolor dawn. It had been a long time since I’d been pulled away from my writing at such an early hour to admire the sunrise, and while I wish it had been under better circumstances, I appreciated it nonetheless. It gave me something to look forward to as I was left amidst sleepless uncertainty.No, fathoming the idea of slumber was not on my mind, not with the array of thoughts that flooded it. What wasn’t my inner muse calling out to me with exigency to hunt down and retrieve the idol of my affections left me struggling through frustration and, most importantly, concern. One minute, he had been coming undone in the wake of my kiss, and the next, off somewhere, alone, not a trace aside from what he’d left behind. Why wouldn’t I be bothered?Then again, why should it bother me this much? I’d known since the beginning that Frederick was a fickle being who was wary about the people he associated with and didn’t so much as bat an eye at the thought of pushing others away. This was in no way different from any other time he refused to acknowledge me or make a sharp remark. This was typical Frederick, whether I liked it or not, and since he had no intention of concealing those aspects of himself from me, then should it not be my responsibility not to get so perturbed by those sorts of behaviors?But things were different now, weren’t they?I still had the taste of him on my lips—could still recall the pressure of his body settling in my lap and the embedded stress of his hands balled in the fabric of my shirt as they clutched on for dear life. There was evidence that he was just as eager to be in my arms as I was to draw him into them, and if that wasn’t real, then none of this was.Therefore, what was I to do?Smoothly folding the long, heavy fabric that was once across my legs, I deliberated over and over as to what the best course of action was. I could wait here for him, as I knew he wouldn’t just leave without all his armor and would eventually be back for it. I could imagine him now, trudging back here through the dirt, barely looking in my direction while picking up his armor and carefully dusting it off, as he so often did. That would be enough to convince me that everything was fine, even if there would be newfound strain in our camaraderie.But the other option to consider was one that stopped me in my tracks as I clasped tighter to the vermillion cape. If something had happened while he was out in the wilds that would cause him to not come back … 
Could he be—
I refused to think about that further. He was a hunter! Surely, he would be able to take care of himself better than the typical civilian could. As far as that goes, I think that almost anything that encountered Frederick would head for the hills with their tail between their legs the moment he got a word with them. Hah! To imagine that now!… Alas, I couldn’t quite keep myself from wandering in that particular line of thought, nor could I deny that peril was still a possibility that could be keeping him from his return. I already knew that this territory wasn’t going to be the safest, which didn’t paint a pleasant scenery. Since he had gone alone and was more vulnerable than usual, then he was all the more at risk; that meant sitting here and waiting for him to show up again probably should not be on my list of to-dos.I decided that yes, I would go after him. What with the tenderness I now held for him, I was fully convinced that I had no other choice. So after ensuring that the fire was completely snuffed out, I began to gather the remainder of our minimal camping supplies, my scrolls, and anything of remote importance. I also made sure his armor pads and cape had been safely stowed away in my rucksack of belongings, giving the metal a little shine beforehand and readjusting my cloak once they were neatly tucked inside.Perhaps I was being a little too protective of him, and perhaps he would be cross with me for making an effort to go out and find him after causing such a scene. But maybe I wanted to be a little protective—a little visibly genuine to show I meant such a gesture. Maybe that desire to protect had been deeply buried among the inner workings of my natural instincts. Who knew, really? Couldn’t say I’d ever been in love before, if I was allowed to even call it that.After a quick look around, I made my way forward to walk in the same direction Frederick had traveled last night. It had been quite a while since his departure, which meant it might very well be a long trek ahead of me. However, if I was going to search for him, I needed to be as thorough as possible, at least to the best of my ability. I wanted to doubt that it would be difficult; one plus was that I wasn’t the worst at tracking, if I focused on the task at hand and knew priorly what exactly I was searching for. If it came down to it, I could rely on that innate skill to lead me somewhere.Hiking through the woodland and searching for a path amidst the array of leafless trees and following the odor of damp moss, I found myself with plenty of time to think about what it was that I wanted to do when I found him. Ask for an explanation? That would be a nice first request. ‘Why did you leave?’ No, too vague. ‘Why were you in distress before you left?’ No, that might have been too sensitive still. ‘Why were you acting that way if you enjoyed kissing me so much?’ No, no, absolutely not. I might have gotten a dagger thrust into an unpleasant place, if I said anything like that. Nevertheless, I needed to talk to him and get to the bottom of his sudden disappearance.Until then, trees.Aside from the harrowing immediacy, the environment could not have been more peaceful. I carefully stepped through thick, twisted roots, occasionally glimpsing down through withered foliage and murkiness to search for any sign of footprints or broken twigs, oddly enough to no avail. The only sound that caught my ears was the quiet rustling through the boughs—the meager signs of life at daybreak. That was the likely result of stirrings from an animal or two scurrying along above, collecting their morning’s meal and making their way back inside their hollows.For a moment, I wondered if they, too, waited for the sunrise to catch their eyes …“Ugh, damn it,” I muttered under my breath as I came to a halt. “I’m letting this get the better of me. Think, Orpheus, think! I’ve yet to see any signs of him passing through, which is strange enough as is. He did start going in this direction, but knowing him, he would hate getting muddy.” I looked down at my own boots, a layer of grime already splattered along the surface. “As expected, there’s plenty this way, so maybe he chose to move toward higher, drier ground. Away from the forest.” That made the most sense to me. In the time I had gotten to know him, I realized that, even through a period of high emotion, he wouldn’t have liked being here for too long in the cold, damp overgrowth. Too much of a mess for a meticulously spruced hunter like Frederick Kreiburg.I thought that it might be best to go off that hunch and move north, being cautious as to not get caught up in any brambles or snares along the way. This may have been the only clue I had to pursue him with, but I was moving forth with the hope that my intuition would prove fruitful. Besides, I had never doubted my gut before. Why start now?—At the end of the forest, I found myself reaching the break of another clearing. This time, though, instead of being surrounded by more wooded area, I stumbled across three new landmarks—a river that wove like a serpent throughout the landscape, a mass expanse of stone and cliffside, and a waterfall that connected the two together, as though one would be incomplete without the other. As pure sunlight settled in on the world, it danced upon the falls and transformed it into a shimmering cascade of crystal water. To describe it in one word, I would use the term ‘breathtaking.’ Whatever gods placed this hidden jewel in the middle of the wilderness truly made it a spectacle to behold. In fact, this would have been a preferable campsite in comparison to the last, considering the ground was solid, and a potential source of drinking water was bountiful.There was one problem, though; no matter how lovely the view, it all proved to be a major hurdle in the way of my task at hand. Aside from choosing to venture deeper into the woods, going downstream, or climbing the rocks, there wasn’t any other path one could visibly follow. I highly doubted that he would have gone through the trouble unless he was forced to, but if that was the case, that meant all the more difficult of a search was ahead of me.Disheartened after walking for as long as I had, I took a seat on a nearby stone, propping a leg up and working to brush off the dried, caked mud along my heels. By then, I was beginning to feel the looming exhaustion overcome me, and I knew that if I continued for much longer, I might have found myself in even more of a conundrum than I liked to fathom. Besides, only nature knew what it had in store for a traveler like myself, didn’t it?So a reprieve it would be. Well, if one could call ‘wandering back to my deep well of thoughts, trying to once more pinpoint reasons for Frederick’s sudden leave’ a reprieve, as though I hadn’t been questioning it all night and torturing myself with potential answers. It wasn’t likely that he had gotten lost, and I refused to believe something utterly horrible happened to him, so my options were slim or hyperbolic in nature. Maybe he did need to catch his breath and just so happened to wander too far before choosing to make his way back. Maybe he was already back at the campsite and wondered where the hell I’d gotten to, now on a wild chase of his own to search for me in tandem. Either of those options could be possible!Or perhaps I had stirred up a fire by getting too confident in myself. Maybe the feelings of mutual need I thought I sensed when I kissed him could have all been in my head—another story of make-believe woven from the writings of a pathetic storyteller, dancing on a thread of whimsy and ardor upon falling hopelessly in love with an esteemed hunter of noble class, one who had no desire to reciprocate. At one point, I imagined that might have been, to my disappointment, true. At the beginning, it was evident to see that Frederick hoped that I would find something else of interest and be on my way without him, off to find my aspiration either alone or with another who would better entertain me. Little did he know, he became far more interesting than any other who set foot inside a small town. I didn’t memorize their routines or notice how their eyes shone at the thought of a hard-earned, well-prepared breakfast. I didn’t write for hours about their little habits and quirks or write lyrics for them to laugh and admire with sheer pleasantry. Only his . Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me like I thought he did, but I believed, without a doubt, that he found some sort of solace in sharing a space with me.If that were the case, then I wanted that story to be real. I wanted him to manifest in front of me and be real. I wanted Frederick to be just as real as my dreams, of crafting the perfect tale of ancient, magical creatures that were swept from the earth far too soon. If he was real, if he was standing in front of me at this very moment, I would say—“… what was that?”There was a sudden warmth, a breeze, soft and gentle like a crisp, late spring day but oddly present at the end of winter. Where the hell did it come from?“Hmm, that’s strange. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a solid—”
Wait. It couldn’t be. The rock wall?
I abruptly glanced toward the remainder of the rock pile, squinting as I observed it closer. Sure enough, the rocks embedded into the cliffside were warmer to the touch than some of the others nearby. I knelt down, reaching out and feeling around just enough to dip the tips of my fingers into the crevice of one of the stones, only to soon discover that there was depth beneath—a vast opening that led into the side of the cliffs.Hah! Another path! To get inside would require me to either jostle the rocks around or break through them, of course, but it was definitely another path! While the likelihood of him being inside seemed bleak, I had to at least try and see where my efforts got me.As I mentioned prior, who would have ever believed I would do all this for the sake of trying to track down someone who could take care of himself? I suppose it was that same desperation I had spoken of before that was fueling my inner fire. It had to be, as the rocks weren’t the lightest to move around and shove out of the way. I doubt Frederick would happily be the type to pry rocks free and shove them back in place in such a short amount of time, all for the purpose of hiding away inside or moving on. In fact, I would almost believe he’d climb the cliffside before tackling such a laborious task. Still, it seemed like the best chance I had at getting a minor lead on his whereabouts. If I had any chance of getting inside, I would first have to maneuver them and squeeze in after making a wide enough opening in the rock. Well , I thought, time to get to work. Now that I think back on it, I can’t believe that I actually did something like this. As I was tearing away rocks with strain, I couldn’t keep from asking myself how long it would take for me to make a dent in pulling these large stones away from a hole in the wall. Frederick would absolutely not have gone through such trouble, would he? Was I completely out of my mind, mad with burning desire to see my traveling partner once again? There was no telling by that point. It had gone off on so many tangents that by then, I would have believed it the best explanation for such stupidity.Then again, maybe it was the most stable I’d been in my entire life.—It was midday when I finally made a breakthrough.There wasn’t any light peeking out from the other side, but the warmth radiating from the dark passageway and the outline of a shadowy interior were enough to catch my attention. I’d been diligent in pulling stones, casting them aside, and repositioning others so that none would topple for quite some time, so to finally have a way in was invigorating, to say the least. At last, I could crawl in! Maybe now I could get somewhere and find out what was on the other side!However, no one could have prepared me for what was waiting in that cavern. Not a soul.I did think it was odd at first, as caves were typically on the cooler side instead of diffusing such heat. I chalked it up to its location. Who knew? Maybe there was more to the tunnel than I realized. It was close to a waterfall, after all, which made it strange enough. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been crawling into strange caverns in the first place.But I did it anyway, weaseling my way right in through the crack in the wall like a slippery devil and finding myself behind the stones in a few short seconds. It was a very comfortable space for being perpetually muted in shadow and surrounded with the claustrophobic compact of earthen walls. Otherwise, it was definitely best defined by those two words: earthy and oh so very dark .Thankfully, I had a solution for situations like this. When you travel as much as I do, you often come prepared for dim environments and enclosed spaces that don’t equate to starting a fire. For me, I had many tricks up my sleeves and could adjust to this in no time. Once I’d gotten secure footing, I plucked my trustworthy monocle from a secure pocket in my tunic, giving it a onceover and flipping it back and forth in between my fingertips.
“Illuminate.”
With a few more flips, a purple glow shimmered along the glass surface. Upon that confirmation, I moved it in front of my left eye, then my right, all before settling it into place there. Within seconds, I was capable of peering deeper inside the cavernous space with crisp vision and exploring what it had in store, all to my heart’s content. See? I’m rather resourceful when I need to be.(Oh. Had I … not mentioned I could do that before? Nothing to fret; it’s all in the good spirit of the gifts I’d been granted, being blessed by the muse and all.)Once I could see anew, it was then that I began to step along the path ahead of me, listening closely as the muffled crashing of the waterfall reverberated along the walls, synchronized with the occasional echo of my footsteps. Although I had a mission ahead of me to direct my focus, my curiosity pushed me to plunge into the beckoning unknown—how long did this tunnel expand, what purpose did it serve, and what sort of beast burrowed this cleanly into the side of a cliff without the walls collapsing around it?Those were for me to answer at another time, it seemed, as not very far from the entrance, I noticed a fork in the path that veered off toward my lower right. I almost didn’t notice it, and I wouldn’t have, if not for the sudden shifting of that same unusual heat pooling in that general location. While at first I thought it served no use or interest in my benefit, that intuition of mine pushed me to move in that direction, as it so often did when interfering in my decision-making.Moving feet came to a stop upon reaching an end that didn’t take long to get to. The path brought me to a small alcove, hidden away and brimming with the same relaxing atmosphere. Once I did come to a stop, I dared not take a step further. Something was alive in that room, shifting about along the curvature of the floor below, and upon further notice, I could barely pull my eyes away from what I was witnessing.I watched quietly as the languid form of a beast filled the little burrow with a wispy melody of exhalations. I would say they were the approximate build of a sizeable horse (nowhere near as large as anticipated) with a much longer torso and an even longer tail. Soft, pale fur fluffed up along their chest and streamed from head to tail tip in a sleek yet untamed mane, petite, crooked horns jutting out from their head. Their scales were a startling oppositional visual—a brilliant, bloody hue; luckily enough for me, thanks to the magic on my eyes, I could even see the twinkle of their iridescent shimmer. It couldn’t be. No, it absolutely was. A dragon— a red dragon. I was dragged back into the days of reading descriptions, admiring paintings, peering into minute details of all their features, mannerisms, and the like. I knew from the moment I entered this room just what it was that lay in front of my trembling visage, and I could feel the swarm of intense eagerness overcome me.After months of searching, one still existed after all. I had hope. I had potential ! I wasn’t on a hunt for an extinct being, and the proof was right there, sleeping away beneath a layer of rock and earth.Of all the times to find a dragon, though. What I thought was luck could have easily been misfortune, as the task at hand proved to be the more important goal in this moment than the life’s work I’d longed to create … I think. Yes. No? The impulse begging me to stay pulled me closer into the den of the slumbering dragon, telling me this was the right decision. I needed to take a closer look, record my findings, and speak.… No, Frederick’s whereabouts came first this time. Not that I wouldn’t be back to pay the dragon a visit, once I’d found him. I just hoped that I would have enough—“!!!” Caught in the midst of awe and wonder, I dared to look back one more time, nearly jumping out of my skin upon seeing one cracked eye peering back at me.I had no idea then why the glint of that eye looked so familiar.I didn’t have long to figure that out, either, as both shot open rather quickly upon the dragon noticing they were being watched. They moved to their feet in an alert stance, a sharp growl resounding through the alcove as it began approaching me with swift, bolting strides.  Damn! I had been deemed as a threat! I lifted my hands quickly in defense, unsure of what else to do that wouldn’t cause a worse reaction. “S-sorry! My apologies! I didn’t mean to disturb you!” Dragons hadn’t been around humans in centuries. Could this one even understand what I was saying? Was this going to be a disaster in the making!? Like I said, crawling around in uncharted caves? Not the best call for a simple man like myself!And then, to my greatest surprise, the dragon stopped. The moment it approached me and got close enough to do something about the sudden intrusion, it froze, leaning its head forward to catch a scent or a close enough glance, all before giving a snort of hot breath and pulling back.Did that mean they could understand me?“I’m, haha! I’m a little busy with searching for a friend of mine and just happened to get on quite the path! I’ll be certain to leave you alone while I, uh, get on with it then!”The creature’s eyes drew into a squint, a tilt of its head. Confusion? It only lasted for a brief pause as the dragon pranced past me through the tunnel and back out toward the entryway. They seemed in no hurry—no panic in their body language or in their features, even after a complete stranger had interrupted their naptime.Or so I thought. I was back and forth in the fray of trying to decide whether or not they could comprehend the phrases coming out of my mouth when they made their return. I didn’t have to wonder for long, as they followed up my statement with their own.“Or … pheus?? What … how in the hell did you manage to get in here?”Well, at least my intuition had, once again, brought me to where I needed to be, didn’t it? I wasn’t hallucinating, was I? (I, in fact, can now safely confirm that I was not hallucinating.)That was when the realization finally settled in. If only I had known then what I know now, right? “ … Frederick??”—So, the process of ending up in a cave and finding myself face-to-face with the dragon and man I’d been searching for has been quite the story of itself. As noted prior, I never imagined that deciding to leave my small town and embark on my life’s quest would lead me here years later, of all places. I learned much in the time since departing from home and had gathered many questions along the way, some of which would surely be answered soon enough.At that time, though, the burning question I had in mind was … how did I not know that I’d been traveling with a dragon for a little over half a year? How, indeed, was that possible? One would think that I’d have put the pieces together and figured that out at some point. I suppose it wasn’t so strange for me not to know; Frederick was one to be a touch on the secretive side, and with a secret like this? Trying to keep it to himself was what would keep him safest, even from his traveling companion. I immediately remembered the words of the archivist: ‘No living scaled beast would ever make themselves known to mortals, if they knew what was best for them.’ Unfortunately, that secret was no longer securely guarded; it was now also mine to keep.After reuniting, we sat for a long time against the outside rock wall in silence with the lull of the rushing water emphasizing it, the both of us looking to piece together the right words to say. In that time, he had since reverted back, his cape once more draped over his shoulders and the plates of armor neatly replaced on various sections of his body. While most of him now retained his former shining glory, his face showed otherwise, sullen and weary.I was the first between us to speak.“Frederick.” He lifted his attention. “I’m … sorry for interrupting your nap.”“No, you’re fine.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “Besides, from the looks of the light outside, it appears that I’ve overslept. I should have been on my way out a while ago.”“Are you at least all right?” I asked while turning to face him. “Why were you trapped in here in the first place?”“I had to find some sort of shelter for the night that wasn’t out in open space. I maneuvered my way through and sealed off the entrance the best I could. It was foolproof. That is, until you found me.” Oh. Well, I’ll be damned. That was exactly what he did, wasn’t it? I suppose I should have listened to my intuition more on that subject. “Why didn’t you come back to camp by morning? Are you upset that I found you?”“I’m … just surprised. I thought you might have stayed back at the campsite for a while longer so I could simply come back at a later point in the day. I wasn’t anticipating you to track me down this far.”“I was worried about you.”Frederick didn’t respond, but I could see his body grow tense, his eyes sharpen in the slightest, his hands nervously rubbing at one of the clasps along the edge of his cape as he listened.“You just got up and left me at the campsite last night after saying you needed a moment to get some air. I waited until I noticed the sun rising in the sky before I found myself determined to come out and find you. I thought there was some harrowing reason for you not returning.”“I’m sorry.”“Did you plan on coming back?”That question caused him to finally look upright, a sharp frown grazing his mouth. “Of course I did. Eventually. I told you that I needed a moment to clear my head, didn’t I? I would have returned today. I swear on it! I just … couldn’t go back last night.” And back he went into his routine of looking away from me.By then, something went off in the back of my head. I understood why he was acting guarded, but this was getting to be ridiculous. He acted as though he was backtracking to how he was during our first few months together! And there was no way I was going to be okay with that; in fact, I’d rather had enough of the sheepishness. Therefore, I stood, making my way to stand over him and extend my reach to lift his face from the ground. I believe that caught him off guard, as I could feel him flinch and try to grip hold of my wrist in an effort to pull it away. I’d already decided that was not allowed, as I held on as tight as I could without bringing him harm or further discomfort.“Tell me. Was it because of what I did? Were you scared? Did you think—”“Orpheus, stop being ignorant.” He bared his teeth as he once more tried to pull away; in the flesh of his cheeks, I could feel the slightest spark of that familiar warmth that once resonated from the cavern. “Think wisely before you say anything that makes you—”
“Did you think you were going to hurt me?”
Since he had no way to turn from me, although by this point he was making a stronger attempt to, I finally got a good look at those eyes as he scowled and hissed at me. Sure enough, his sharp red pupils were burning, still surrounded by a sea of glimmering gold, and the little horn upon his forehead had yet to fade with the rest of his draconic features. “Stop … looking at me like that!” He huffed out, still squirming about to seek his freedom. “You were the one who made it all complicated in the first place! I told you back in Duskmeadow that I chose to travel alone, but you had to find a proper way to convince me otherwise! Then you had to kiss me, and I … here I was, thinking you would have left by now! That way, you would never have to see … see—”“See what? That you’re a dragon?”“Yes! Precisely! ”“But that’s not an issue any longer, now that I do know—”“No! It’s no issue at all because what we’re going to do is pretend that you never saw any of it and continue on our journey. I’m not answering anything, I’m not humoring any amusement from the fact. You are going to take it at face value and leave it at that because it has absolutely nothing to do with y—”“Hah, nothing, he says!” I scoffed, still holding him and watching as he finally stopped struggling, likely coming to understand that I had no intention of letting go until I was satisfied. “Frederick, I am going to be quite honest with you when I state the following. I think it’s rather foolish that you consider it an easy task for me to forget witnessing the most beautiful creature alive, especially when I have to look at you every day. I’m afraid to say there’s no possibility of me ever doing such a thing.”“Ugh! Cease with the flirtation! I’m being … completely serious with you over this request.” I could feel his skin flush even warmer at the declaration, a slow, aggravated exhale leaving his lips. “Orpheus, I fear that you have already become the fool between the two of us. This distorted romanticization of yours has put you at the beginning of a twisted path, one where you have yet to see thorns lining its edges. Why are you acting as though it’s some noble, gallant experience for me to have ended up this way? Do you really think that I want to be this ? Do you think I have control over this? Why would I ever aspire to have myself slain at a moment’s notice or turn into what you saw back there?”Out of all sincerity, maybe my infatuation bordering on obsession did skew my thoughts about the whole ordeal. At first, I had no idea why he would feel such a way about himself and took it as insecurity. Call it biased, but I initially believed that he was overexaggerating his condition. I did believe there was more to his story than what I was aware of, and of course, it would be no easy life to live as a dragon, if it meant hiding oneself from the world. But to be so troubled and bothered, perhaps even disgusted by being born as dragon kin? It never crossed my mind as to why. At least he understood that the lack of a response was a sign of my bewilderment, thus leaving him to explain further. And once he shed light on the startling set of circumstances he found himself in, only then did I begin to know why I was incorrect in having such assumptions.“Orpheus, I am damned. I never asked to become this! Never!! ”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Just as I’d observed, the clearing and cavern space combined was the perfect spot for a new campsite. Testing the falls proved that we had water that could be purified, and with the forest nearby, there would be plenty to forage, gather, and hunt. With the time spent here, I began classifying our setup as the perfect base; that way, even if we needed to scout beyond the general borders of this area, he and I could still have a place to call a temporary home.At one point, we had discussed traveling farther than just a few hours north of where our last camp was located. However, with the unexpected delay, the heaviness in the air, and it not being common to find a location that had so many resources, it was deemed best that we would stay here a week to regroup, thus taking advantage of a resourceful environment before going out to explore the remainder of this new territory.I viewed this break in the midst of our journey as a fine time to overlook what information I had recorded. It would help me realize what I already knew with certainty and what more I still needed to learn. By then, my scrolls were half-filled with notes on dragon kind. Since I had now witnessed one personally, I jotted down everything I remembered—the slender, smaller body; the wild mane and sweeping tail; the quadrupedalism with movements so swift and exact; the little, the unusually asymmetrical horns; and the overall lack of wings. (I still wondered how Frederick ended up making it through the wooded area without a trace, if he didn’t have them, but maybe I would figure that out eventually, if I was patient enough). While this data confirmed important details regarding the lack of one exact draconic physiology, since I deemed my research conducted back in the archives as mutually accurate, I think that the most important piece of information I had gained was the fact that they could change shape and maintain human mimicry. Not once had I found any documented information that stated that element as a possibility. Then again, that was likely a wise decision on the part of the writers of such lore. If the wrong people learned about this likelihood, surely there would be mass panic, as Demi described, or … far worse. I could at least safely say that this unanticipated discovery wasn’t the worst turn of events. Even if Frederick wasn’t keen on the idea of having revealed his form to me, it was beneficial in many ways. My muse had been sated for the time being, and from here on out, I knew what other qualities I should be looking for.As for Frederick, though, he once again went back to isolating himself, just as I feared he would. He went out for hours at a time, sometimes to hunt, others … I think to contemplate or to be out on his own, away from the campsite. He did come back each time, just as he promised he would, but there was still a lingering presence of, dare I say … fear, when he returned to our camp.I decided that for now, I wasn’t going to intrude. I’d give him all the time he wanted, if it was necessary for him to come back around and warm up to me. Meanwhile, I couldn’t deny that the need to understand him and his perspective was still heavy on my mind. When he spoke to me, I heard the anger … the frustration of something that had been building not for days, not weeks, but years. It had to be too much for one person to handle, and if that was the problem here, then to move forward, we needed to talk about it.And that time would come. Until then, I played the part of the helpful, omnipresent eye witness in his life. I maintained a normal routine of making us breakfast, watching him marvel at the sunrise, reading through the notes I had taken to make more in the margins, and then looping back around to make dinner and prepare for a good night’s sleep, either under the stars or in the confines of the cave—whichever route I was inclined to take on whichever specific night.Time under the stars was one of the best decisions I’d made. It gave Frederick a place to be alone and me a time to admire the loveliness of the world and a pleasant dose of atmosphere. Now that I knew his secret, he had a good reason to fuss over being out in the open at night in a less enclosed space, and to be fair, so did I. But the crisp, cool air and the rhythmic but asynchronous chirps of peepers calling out into the night while I rested atop my bedroll was bliss at its finest.It was nice, yes, but did I also hate feeling the impact of our emotional separation? Of course I did. There was still a hole in my heart that needed to be filled by the one I called my companion. Not one night passed where I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him prematurely, an event that felt like it took place months ago instead of nearly a week. I missed the time we spent around the campfire, sharing dinner and laughter alike. I missed the brushing of his bangs as he had to consider a question and the pulling of his lips as he smiled when I read or sang to him. (Was I any good at it? He never would say. All I knew was that he enjoyed it, which was more than enough for me.) I just wish there was a way I could—… that was it!If I had any hopes of rekindling our closeness, that would be the best approach! If I took my time to write something new—something made solely for him again? I could show him that I held no different opinion, no distaste, no false idolization! Anything was better than nothing, and if it meant the possibility of bringing the two of us back to where we were a week ago? I was willing to try.—“Orpheus, what … are you doing??”“I told you, I have something I need you to listen to for me. I don’t want to take up much of your time, but since I almost have dinner ready for us anyways, I thought it would be a good time to seek your opinion.”“Yes, you already said that , but do you have to, I don’t know, drag me along like this? I can walk fine on my own.”“I mean, sure, you can, but that takes all the fun out of it!”“I don’t exactly understand. The fun out of wha—!”The crisp fish roasting and the small kettle of birch bark tea cast a fine aroma from the center of the open flame. As the sun began to set in the sky, it was a proper time to enjoy the last peak of daylight before the night drew its blanket overhead.In the passage of a day, I had worked hard to create the proper piece of writing to best express what was on my mind, going over and over again across the marks on my page to see whether or not they conveyed the right messages. On my last few passes through, a tingling sensation settled into my skin—a proper sign that it had reached the point of completion. I knew it was time and that tonight, I would bring an end to the lingering malaise that had taken over us.When the time was right, when the mood was set, I pulled him from the cavern and led him over to the campfire to get comfortable, although he ended up settling down with an unanticipated suddenness, likely due to the not so gentle pulling along on my part.“Oh! Sorry. Didn’t mean to manhandle you. But I hope I can make that up to you with what you’re about to hear. Tea first?”“Yes, tea would be lovely.” As I reached out to pluck the kettle free and pour him a cupful, I watched out of the corner of my eye as he wriggled around on the loam and shifted his legs until he found a proper means of seating arrangement. “I still don’t know why this is something for you to get so worked up over.”“You’ll just have to see, won’t you? I think it will be worth your time.” I was pretty confident that my written piece would do as I anticipated it to. I would eventually discover that, while I was opening the figurative latch to ‘Pandora’s Box’ by writing such a devotional narrative, which was close to the last thing I’d been expecting it to do, it would be a work that I regarded as one of my finest pieces, comparative to masterpieces I would later write.As he extended a hand for his cup and draped his free arm along one knee, attentively peering over at me from across the fire, I took pleasure in knowing I had him right where I wanted him. I cocked a half smile his way before giving him his tea and taking a seat with my own. “I am rather excited about it, actually. I’ve put a lot of thought into this one, so I really want you to have a listen. You can eat beforehand or wait until I’ve finished reading to tear into it. Entirely up to you. I think it’s about ready, by this point.”“Everything smells nice,” he mused, watching thoughtlessly as the steam rolled from the surface of his cup’s contents. “Did you just catch those?”“Yeah. Near the waterfall could not have been a better spot to be. There are plenty of fish to catch there.”“Hmm. That’s good. I’ll be sure to enjoy mine to its finest and pick the bones clean, once I finish this.” He took a small sip from the boiling hot beverage, humming in approval before having a longer drink. As he savored it, I joined in taking a much more delicate drink of my own (it made sense now as to how he could stand such scalding liquid!) and worked to unfurl the scroll of the hour upon my lap. “Now, if there’s anything wrong with it, be sure to tell me, you hear? I need proper critique, if I’m ever going to be writing as one of the greats of my era.”“You don’t have to worry about that. I take myself for being an honest critic when I need to be, if the time calls for it.”“Great. Try not to be too harsh, all right?” And with that cheeky remark, I cleared my throat, took another sip of tea, and began reading the words poured out of me in a single night … the words I saved for him. 
~*~*~
 
When I used to look into the depths of a fire on my many nights away from home, I often found myself focusing most on the red and orange that flickered before me. As a storyteller, I have often found intrigue in the colors of the world and their many meanings. For red, it instills feelings of passion, intensity, anger, and destruction. Red is roses blooming, blood spilling—it is the perfect polarity of life and death in a single hue. I’m drawn to it for this reason and many others.

Without fail, night after night, I found myself by the edge of a flame, both seeking its warmth and engaged in its ongoing dance. Still, I knew that if I got too close, it would harm and could easily destroy the things I love most. It’s a fate to consider when your life’s work is told on a resistant yet fragile surface such as that of parchment.

Time and time again, I had to consider what that red meant. Was it going to help me or ultimately ruin me? It could go either way.

Did you know that you are now the first image that comes to mind when I think of the color red? You wear it draped along your back, stained in your hair, and spilled from the tip of your blade. I noticed it in your eyes for the first time just a handful of days ago; I knew then that it was your color, and you wear it exactly as it was intended. It suits you. Day after day, you aspire to shine brighter than any other, and no matter how many are scorched in the process, you never stop striving to cast a similar glow upon the world.

I had been searching for a voice for so long—a voice that would work alongside my own to create the story I hoped to produce. But blazing souls and paper hearts don’t mesh very well together, do they? We’ve learned that well in the past several months. You burn on, and I burn in response, and in the end, all that’s left are ashes on the ground when the day is done. However, I’ve been reflecting on how well a fire can be the ultimate source of light, one that can be used to see what’s written on the surface of a scroll. You see, it’s protective and emits fragility alongside its otherwise brutal strength. Not many people are willing to consider both as possible options.

Within those connections, I like to think that you are the paradigm of what it means to be a flame, burning away even on the coldest nights while still needing to be tended to and shown proper care. Although I knew you came with a warning, I was content with letting you ignite and shed light upon me. It helped the darkness feel less oppressive … the nights feel less alone.

When I sat by a fire back then, I can safely say that I did feel less alone while traveling by myself. Just know that I feel the same when you’re by my side, too. I’m willing to suffer the burn if it means that your company is what I have to look forward to at the end of every night.
 
~*~*~
 Once I finished, I questioned looking up from my writing. I wasn’t sure how he would react to me having the gall reading something like this after the two of us hadn’t spoken much in the past week or after our previous words were shared. For all I knew, he could be thinking of standing up to take his leave again, trudging back into the cavern, disappointed that he had been pulled out here for such a purpose.But when I finally did look up, it was there, in all its brilliance—a smile. A sad, heart-wrenchingly painful smile with tears threatening to break at the corners of his eyes, as though he were making all the effort in the world to hold himself together. Seeing him in such a state left my chest crushed beneath the pressure; I got what I wanted, sure, but was it worth it?“… Frederick, I’m sorry. If all this is really bothering you that much … if I’m —”“Stop, please. I don’t want to hear any more. Give me time.”I said no more. The two of us fell mute as the minutes passed before the crackle of burning brush. He took his time to wipe the ball of his thumb along his cheeks, drying the spill of the few tears that decided to come out. “Orpheus, your verses, in every way I could classify them, are like pillars of gold in a dry, destitute land. They make my heart leap and soar with … feelings I never thought could be mine. Yes, I’m disturbed by what you now know, but maybe it’s best that you do.“Just please, as I told you before, listen when I say that it’s never been you. I know I’ve been distant, and I know I haven’t explained myself, but I needed to consider how I was going to talk to you and decide where I want to take this declaration of admiration you’ve given me from this point forward. Thinking that I was cross with you whenever I’ve been cross with my own lack of judgment is extremely far from the truth.”… And that’s what good communication is all about, I guess. I should have brought it up to him sooner. At least that meant one less pin was stuck in my heart.“That’s a relief, at least. But that still isn’t giving me a good idea as to why you’ve been so distant. The way you look at me is painful— tormented . You look at me as though I’m going to hurt you, and I can assure you, that’s never been my intention.”And with a heavy sigh, he stood, being cautious as to not set his cape ablaze as he took slow steps over to the other side, right next to me, and reclaimed a seat.“It may not be your intention, but I also know that the intentions of others are never fully known until one reveals them. Say you do mean well for me. How will I ever know with certainty? I don’t trust many people in this world, and now that I’m … like this , I trust even fewer. I thought it might get easier once I embraced my passage into adulthood, but that, too, only granted me with dark corners and evil eyes pointed in my direction.”“If you told someone about those circumstances, I think it would stop feeling like such a burden for you to carry. I can’t say I had the worst childhood, but I know it wasn’t normal, either. I’ve long since accepted what fate brought to me, and look where I am now. Don’t you think, I don’t know, that you could have that peace, too?”“ … Do you sincerely believe that me telling you is going to bring me peace?”“Not sure. Might be a good start.” I shrugged. In all honesty, who knew? Life was like that—difficult and gruesome and sometimes unfair with things that haunted and tore us down, to the point where there was barely anything left to call a fragment of oneself. But I was fully aware that him holding onto the pain of the reality he found himself rooted within would never be what healed him. “I’m not saying it’s going to take all your anguish away, but maybe it could do something for you.”…“You said back then that you wanted my story.”I perked up immediately. “I did, yes.”“Then if you want it so badly, you best take good notes.”—“When I came into this world, my family rejoiced. I was the only child my parents ever bore, and the occasion was one they celebrated with jubilant relief. I began my life with that same radiant joy, although that didn’t last for very long. Unfortunately, due to circumstances still unbeknownst to me, I lost my mother at a young age. It was as though she disappeared out of thin air one day, and since I was still but a child, there were frequent days where I wept over her loss.“Why did she leave us? One couldn’t say; no one could provide an answer, whether from lack of knowledge, being sworn to secrecy, or some other reason entirely. To this day, I’m still uncertain about the reason. But it doesn't matter. Time still passed us by, and I eventually found a proper means of healing the pain for that long lost maternal presence.”“What finally did it for you?”“Well, I think you’ll find it quite obvious, for you see, that's why I love your verses as much as I do.”“Music. That’s it, isn’t it? You know so much about it.”“Yes, song-weaving. It was an outlet both my father and I shared. To mend his own heart, he poured countless hours into music-making, and I learned to let it soothe me. I could have once been called a troubled child, but it was soon clear that even my sharpest cries were stilled by the melodies he played. How I longed to be a songweaver of such caliber myself!”I heard the passion take over in his voice, lead me along through the bitterness and sorrow turned into enlightenment. I longed to know more—wished to delve into his history and write it down for as long as he would let me. “And from the sound of it, fate didn’t allow you to have such aspirations, did it?”“For a while, I was able. Up until my father deemed it an utter waste of time.” Ah, the usual ‘disrespect of the arts’ act. “Did he lose his spark?”“Not exactly. He took mine instead. You see, the Kreiburg name isn’t simply known for its status as a part of regality. My family name is stained in the blood of many generations before us.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he furrowed his brow, biting down on his lip. “You’ve done plenty of reading in your days. Have you ever once stumbled upon the name?”“Can’t say I did. Not at any point. Should I have?”“Probably not. Most of the records tarnishing the name were lost to history or destroyed, but there might be some that would express how notorious the Kreiburg family was … and still is, to an extent.”What did he mean by notorious? Were they some sort of family of crime? Taking one look at Frederick, at least from how I saw him, I would never believe that to be true. Still, this was the first opportunity he found himself able to trust me with such personal information. Who knew if or when he would feel okay to do so again?“Notorious? In what way, if you don’t mind my asking? I mean, sure, you’re a hunter, but using that word for you doesn’t sit right with me.”“You see, that would be great if you didn’t make assumptions, as you have been. Notorious is the best term of all, considering my family is made of—” He halted, eyes falling shut as he took a moment’s pause before continuing. “—dragon hunters. At least on my father’s side.”… no wonder he was so hesitant to speak. “So … you—”“Are a dragon hunter myself? By title, yes.”That confession, as brave as it was, only made this all the more confusing. He was a dragon hunter but was simultaneously a dragon? Surely, there were missing pieces to this explanation that remained an enigma to me.“Have you … ever slain one?”“I tried. Once. That ended up being the worst decision of my life.”“Did you enjoy—”“No! I just told you! My father was persistent that I, as his only son, cease making the one thing that brought me comfort in order to engage myself in the art of murder and take the lives of the remaining beasts in hiding! None of this was what I wanted!” He dropped his head into his hand, wilting the more and more he spoke of the ordeal. “You know there is far more than what the books take note of, more than you or I or any living being is aware of in regards to the world of dragons, don’t you?”“That would only make sense. Documentation can only record what is fully known by mankind.”“Great. Then you completely understand that there are dragons out there that no one has any record of, ones living off the land and out of the public eye. He knew that well. He taught me in excruciating detail how to pinpoint a dragon in hiding, how to track them down to their home, lure them out, and … well, you can gather the rest from context. He insisted over and over that the only way I could uphold the Kreiburg name, the only way I could honor him and the memory of my mother, was by following that path.“So I did it. Once. I went out on my own to earn my father’s favor to seek a dragon and carve its tail clean from its body. I’ve traveled much farther than what you and I have as a duo, and in the midst, I stumbled across the perfect target. I never intended to specifically seek out an innocent who was just trying to live a normal life, but that meant an even greater risk. I would need to find a dragon with a legitimate reason for me to take their life.”So, he still had a sense of morality, even with the rigidity of his upbringing. I don’t know why I ever questioned that or wondered any differently. “How long did that take to accomplish from start to finish?”“Months. Trying to track down one that fit the description of actually causing harm wasn’t too terribly hard. I had all the tools necessary to make that part of the plan simple. Getting to where I was supposed to go ended up being the challenge. She has a specific nesting ground but has others do her bidding on a consistent basis. Trying to track and pinpoint an exact location took a while. I had several warnings that trying to face the one known as Drakaina—or hell, trying to hunt down a fable—would not be worth my time. Many of my informants took her for dead. Those that didn’t swore I held a death wish.”“She … isn’t, I take it?”“No, she’s very much alive, much to my displeasure.”“Who is this Drakaina? Why was she your perfect target?”“That’s a story for another time. The extent of what I could say about that subject would take me far too long to convey. All you need to know for now is that what I was considering when I planned to hunt her down was not the fact that she was an elder dragon nor that she had been a significant figure during the Dragon War. It was that I had a job to do to put an end to a potential threat that no one else was certain of the whereabouts. Find her hiding spot, take my blade, and run it through her to claim my prize and hopefully never have to hear the resounding words of disappointment from my father thereafter.“When I came upon a lead at last, I found myself in a desolate churchyard, as dead as the nearby cemetery. It was the middle of the night, and while not many would have thought that secrets lie inside any longer, I knew better than to allow a lead to go cold. So I climbed the extent of the watchtower, ready to face the terrible beast that rested above me. It was in no way simple, but I was determined, my golden dagger at my side, prepared to strike her when I needed it most. But she knew. She’d been eagerly awaiting my arrival, even while chained to the church itself, both protected and kept captive by its few remaining devotees.”“How did that battle end? I mean, you’re here, which is one good thing to consider, but so is she. How did you manage to get away with your life?”That question touched more of a nerve than I was expecting. His shoulders hunched while his hands tightened on his teacup, the barest glint of fangs peeking out to dig deeper into his bottom lip. From a reaction like that, it must not have gone very well, but I mean, he survived, didn’t he? Coming out with his life was the important part.That is, until I realized that he was staring through me instead of at me. Where all the other responses to my questions were quick to be answered, this one? Not so much.He was fine. Wasn’t he? “… it concluded when the clock struck midnight, the same hour that led to my end. I set my sights too high and was no match for a dragon that only the heavens could touch. I died, Orpheus. While I have no recollection as to how she struck the final blow, I vividly remember when I took my last breath, feeling the darkness consume my vision, falling to my knees while my heart stopped beating. Everything felt cold, then warm, then nothing as I sank into the depths of an endless oblivion.” Oh, how little I knew about dragon kin. When I thought everything started making more and more sense, Frederick threw another twist into the story that made it all the less capable of creating a clear picture of the situation. I had focused a lot of energy on dragon research, but I must have been missing something. A living elder dragon? Dragon resurrection? “Okay, okay. This is a lot to take in. If you say you died and can actively remember it, then how are you here? It also doesn’t explain why you yourself are a dragon.”“I’m getting to that. I know this is a lot, but bear with me,” he insisted, taking another drink of tea while momentarily considering his next words. “Everything else that happened immediately after is mostly blurred memories for me. I recall white roses and a funeral procession, the tremor of an intense infernal heat that tore into my corpse, and finally, waking up in a remote location in the middle of an open clearing, very alive and unable to control the reality that I could become the very thing that I was forced to slaughter.”And then, most of it made sense. He bore no ill will—only the will of purpose. Thinking that he could achieve greatness without understanding what consequences lie in wait was the plight of a desperate man, and I knew I could empathize with that on a level beyond the typical fool. I take it that he never obtained that glory nor found any solace to make his family proud. He might have been a bold warrior at one point, but now, he portrayed the story of a victim with a tragic downfall, doomed from the very beginning.The bitterness in his laugh punctured the air around us. “My immediate thought was that Drakaina cursed me.”“A curse? To become a dragon, you mean?”“Correct. I swore on it. I blamed her each night after, through the immense pain searing in my bloodstream, the sudden transformations against my will, all of it. But it’s not true. What I thought was a curse was something greater, some sort of ancient magic that had been activated upon my premature demise. I learned from a very knowledgeable source that it had long since been in my bloodline, waiting for me to wake up … actually wake up. It was no wonder Drakaina knew of my arrival.” His shoulders drooped, and finally, the cup made its way onto the ground, his arms falling still while propped upon his knees. “While I don’t know what this is going to mean for me now or in the impending future, one thing remains clear to me: I can never go home. I can never face my father again. At first, it was a relief to think about. My life is mine again. I could go back to my music and let that future be mine to behold. But I soon learned that there’s a lot more to think about, more to worry about. I may have lived this time, but that doesn’t guarantee I will next time. I’m a looming threat to the peace of many in this world, and that alone is a warning that my life might reach a quick end once more. Not to mention, since I want to challenge her again—”“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. You actually want to take on the dragon that killed you the first time?”“Yes. Of course I do. It’s unfinished business. Whether I want to or not, I’m being called back there.”“Is that why—”“Why I’m out here, traveling alone, not wanting any others to get involved with my mission? Precisely. That means having you along for the trip makes matters excessively more difficult.”“ … so you would do it, even if it meant you would die again?”I had to ask. After listening to him go on and on about the lead-up to his first death and knowing that the possibility could very well happen again was bothersome. Us mortal beings are often faced with the burden of repeating our mistakes and not listening to the foreboding messages of both ourselves and others. If the first time brought him ruin, then wouldn’t the second bring a similar fate?“Well, you see.” He remained fixated on the blaze before extending a hand to me. I lowered my quill, capped my ink, and raveled my scroll before accepting it as mine, clasping hold of it in both my own. “It used to be that simple of a decision. After all, if I was of foul blood, then dying to do something good might have been worth multitudes more than anything I’ve ever accomplished alive. If I didn’t have a traveling partner to worry about, well, that plan would have worked out just fine.”“Then Frederick, do you consider me as the source of what’s holding you from throwing yourself back into battle with this she-dragon? Do you want me to leave?”I had to know the answer. Hell, if he wanted me to, I would have packed up all my belongings and went off on my own to continue my search. The last thing I wanted was to think of him dying a second time, but I also couldn’t live with myself if it meant my being here was the one thing keeping him from becoming stronger and fighting for his honor. Squeezing his hand tighter, I lifted the other to cup his cheek. “Don’t think you’re going to hurt my feelings by telling me—”“No. To both questions.”…I must confess, a man in his right mind would have waited for another opportunity—another day, another time—especially since the first time it happened went so awry. But beneath the heavens themselves, I attempted once more to show my love for him, right as the pinks and purples of dusk long since faded to black and blue. I brushed a strip of pale hair away from his cheek as I caressed it in my palm. I caught only a glimpse of his lashes fluttering shut before mine fell, too, the memory of those lips leaving an imprint once more upon my mouth as I closed the distance.It was everything that made a perfect kiss: tender, welcoming, innocent—breath caught between our mouths as we sought each other out in hopes to fill our lungs with freedom in each other’s grace. The pressure of his tightening hand made me squeeze back in return and slide forward even closer, drawn closer into that familiar warm body that got me hooked on him initially.“If you do this…” He panted and shuddered against my mouth while easing his arms around me and soon holding on for dear life, no longer able to turn his head away. “You know what this means, don’t you? What secrets you must keep, what fate might bring you, what—”“Frederick, Frederick,” I hushed in interruption, another peck upon the lips bringing him to stillness. “As a matter of fact, I do. And I don’t care.” In fact, I pride myself in saying that I would walk to the ends of the universe—wait until the fibers of the sun burned out and left a gaping hole within its vastness—to ensure I could bring him eternal happiness in the end. And if that was the one thing allowing him to keep holding on, then I would do what I must, my own soul be damned, to ensure that it remained so.