“Boss?!”

  I turned and looked toward the entrance of a nearby dark tunnel. Several other such entrances were embedded in the walls of the underground cistern. A distant rumble of running water undercut the otherwise silent chamber. I was just thankful that Second had brought me to part of the city’s water management infrastructure rather than its waste disposal.

  Visk walked out of the tunnel, surrounded by six humans wearing heavy cloaks and cloth masks. I guessed that they were male based on their build, but their other features were carefully obscured. Even their scent was masked, just like with Second. I’d need to investigate how to break that disguise as soon as possible. My acute sense of smell was one of my greatest means of sensing incoming trouble.

  The elf approached me hesitantly, as if I were going to lash out at them. However, my gaze was directed towards the men escorting Visk. They stopped just beyond the entrance to the tunnel. Telltale signs of loaded crossbows poked out from beneath their cloaks. Once Visk had crossed far enough into the open, one of the men tossed out a small satchel.

  It landed on the floor with a dull clatter. A couple of items spilled out, which I recognized as Visks’s personal belongings. They generally didn't have many items that they kept on their person. An exception was a startling variety of small blades. One such knife slipped out of the bag and skittered across the smooth stone floor.

  As soon as the bag landed, the cloaked men ducked back into the shadows. Even with my greater than average vision in the dark I quickly lost sight of them.

  Visk hesitated, caught between looking at me to gauge my reaction and wanting to retrieve their belongings. My tail flicked across the floor and my amber eyes narrowed on the tunnel entrance. I only spoke once I was reasonably certain that we were alone. Even then, it was curt.

  “Get your things and come with me. We have business to handle.”

  The elf was startled when I spoke. Despite my best intentions, my tone conveyed my deep dissatisfaction. It wasn’t directed at Visk, but that didn’t change that a Dragon Was Displeased. As the current target of that dragon’s focus, Visk practically scrambled across the floor to get their satchel. A distinct scent of anxiety wafted off of them, betraying just how nervous they were.

  Visk returned to my side with equal haste. I considered snatching them up in my claws protectively, but moving around in a confined space like the tunnels under the city would be difficult enough. Instead, I turned towards another exit from the cistern and started walking in silence. My tail curled out and lightly ‘scooped’ Visk to urge them to follow.

  Neither of us said anything as we left the cistern behind and entered a cramped hallway. Out of all of my companions, I had to worry about Visk getting lost in the dark the least. They had even better night vision than I did and had displayed an excellent memory for directions.

  Visk also tended to stick close to me, like a baby chick with a mother hen.

  Second had given me instructions on how to pass through the network of tunnels beneath Osteriath. It was an almost excessively ‘old’ city, which had been demolished and rebuilt many times over the span of centuries. Layers upon layers of stonework had built up over time, with many forgotten cavities and passages forming beneath the surface.

  Humans were creatures of habit. Unless something truly catastrophic occurred to completely prevent them building in the same location, most humans would happily build right on the spot of their previously burnt destroyed dwelling. Second was only the latest in a long line of people who had repurposed the city’s underground for their own purposes.

  That didn’t mean the instructions she gave me were straightforward. Many detours were necessary to avoid the defenses of the Wizard Towers, which extended deep underground. Regular human businesses also often dug down to re-open forgotten rooms as extra storage. It was also entirely possible that the route was confusing on purpose so as to make it difficult to return to the place where Second had captured me.

  It was an hour after we’d headed into the twisting and turning tunnels that Visk began to show signs of difficulty. Their emotions had not settled as we traveled. If anything, the continued silence and claustrophobic atmosphere had only increased their anxiety. Visk’s ears were firmly planted against their shoulders. For the first time, I got a full taste of the elf’s scent.

  My Cassia smelled of spring time in the woods. Edith smelled of herbs and foreign spices. Visk… smelled of petrichor, the first splash of rain on dry soil. Their scent was tinged with blade oil, blood, and the distinct ‘edge’ I associated with ancient wilderness. Just as I’d suspected for a while, the elf’s meek persona was a front for someone far more complex.

  “Visk,” I said as I stopped in a dusty forgotten cellar. Decayed barrels lined the walls. The thick wooden boards had rotted away into almost nothing, only held together by heavily rusted iron bands. Spiderwebs clotted the corners of the room like snowdrifts. “Be honest with me, why are you so nervous?”

  Rather than collapse into a puddle of fear like normal, the elf stared back at me. Their eyes were dark like the new moon. A deep sense of exhaustion and resignation settled over Visk. Their head tilted back, exposing their neck to me.

  “Because it’s my fault,” they whispered. “It's my fault that we got caught. I should have known better. It was obvious that the man we paid to guide us into the city was a criminal. I thought I could outsmart him, but as it turned out… he had outplayed me from the start. They know who I am. There’s a bounty out for my head on a pike, to be delivered to the Viscount of Montarbres.”

  “...” The news that Visk had a bounty on their head was only a little surprising. Sir Kenneth had mentioned that a bounty could be claimed from the Baron for the bandits I’d killed, but that idea was shot down immediately by Edith. As a part of Howard Avery’s crew of brigands, Visk having a bounty of their own was reasonable. They’d been the man’s right hand elf, more or less.

  “I got caught too,” I told Visk solemnly. “There’s another dragon in the city, one of my siblings. She was hunting me by tracking my connection to Cassia. I went to confront her and failed miserably. She is the one controlling the men who captured you. If anyone is at fault, it is me.”

  Visk’s eyes widened slightly, a small flicker of light returning to the empty orbs. “So… why did they let us go?”

  “She let me go free because she thinks she can use me for her own gain. There’s something she wants… a potion that the Alchemist you were supposed to visit has allegedly made. Apparently no one has seen him for long enough that they believe he is dead.” I turned my amber eyes to focus intently on Visk. “In exchange for our freedom, I agreed to retrieve the potion.”

  “She only allowed one of my people to help accomplish this. Out of the three, you alone are the best suited to this task. I Need your help Visk. Please.”

  Out of the possible reactions I expected Visk to have, I did guess that they would start to hyper-ventilate and collapse to their knees.

  Visk raised their hands to their ears, grasping them so tightly that I feared that the elf would rip them off. The slate grey skin over their knuckles lightened comparable to a human’s knuckles turning white. Quick gasps of air puffed in and out of their lips. The scent of petrichor soured into rotten earth.

  “Maen ynahin kar-sak!” Visk hissed as they rocked back and forth. “Maen-sak Maen-sak Maen-sak!” It was immediately obvious that this was not an affectation of fear. Few things worried Visk more than the consequences of speaking the elves’ private tongue where others could hear it. Beyond that, their scent only continued to grow more noticeable.

  I didn’t know what to do. Visk’s default was to retreat when in distress, but this was a near total collapse. I feared causing them great harm if I did the wrong thing. They had seemed resigned to their fate only moments ago. The possibility of Death had not scared Visk, who had shown every sign that they expected to die for their failure.

  ‘Telling Visk that I needed them caused this. Why?’

  Visk made no move to retreat as I approached them. In fact, they didn’t seem to be looking at me at all. Their eyes were focused on something far away from me, both in space and time. I tried to speak to them, but the words seemed to not even enter their ears.

  I genuinely needed Visk’s help right now, but whatever was happening to them had completely shut me out. It was a terrible risk… but I didn’t see any other choice than to approach them from an angle I’d only attempted once before. Since then, I’d learned that the benefits of using magic could be far outweighed by unforeseen Consequences. Only time would tell if what I was about to do would come back to harm me and those around me.

  As carefully as possible, I laid down on the floor and surrounded Visk with my body. My wing folded over the top of the elf, my tail curled across their legs, and my head pressed against their own. They only continued to rock back and forth, muttering incomprehensibly in bhash’aellen.

  I closed my eyes slowly and attempted to enter the Dream.

  ○ ○ ○

  To my surprise, entering the Dream was not difficult. Directing my course within it was the hard part. The weave of magic through Osteriath’s ancient stone swelled around me. Memories long forgotten in the earth clamored for attention, each seeking to crowd my mind. I needed to shift these aside as if I was digging a hole into the soil.

  Visk’s physical proximity in the waking world did not translate to ease of access in the Dream. I suspected that if I were to attempt to enter my Cassia or even Edith’s mind, I would find it considerably easier. Despite the time we’d spent together, there was a deep gulf between me and Visk. Crossing that gap took considerable effort and time.

  When I finally pulled back enough layers of unremembered echoes, I unearthed Visk’s mind like a rough gemstone from stone. It was just as complex as I’d suspected, with a fascinating number of facets to explore. What caught my attention was the deep flaws which permeated the structure.

  Deep within the ground, great forces could compress coal into diamonds according to popular wisdom. In Visk’s case, an incomprehensible amount of time had magnified unhealed wounds of the heart into unresolved trauma that now threatened to break them entirely. With each passing moment the cracks widened. Recent events were simply the final blow that raised this pain to the surface.

  With no time to waste, I dove into the chasm in Visk’s mind and fell all the way to the bottom.

  ○ ○ ○

  The twisting roots of the World Tree rose above me. To me, they were the sky. No sun would ever shine on the place where I was born. We were not blessed like the Jang laborers or the Yodd warrior-drones. Through no crime of our own, Dok like myself were condemned to a world of darkness.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Only those who showed exceptional talent were allowed to undertake the kheen paekshan and join the Hunter Clades. They were the only ones who had ever glimpsed ‘day time’. It was spoken of in hushed whispers, but never when the Dareen could hear. An absolute decree demanded that no Hunter should ever be discovered in the light of day. The Hunter Clades would sooner cut every other Dok’s throat than disappoint their masters.

  The Hunters said that the Sun was just as anathema to us as the Honored Ones claimed. Our skin burned when stroked by its wicked touch. Eyes which see clearly in our dark world were blinded in the light. Yet for all the pain and suffering, the Clades would do anything that was required to taste freedom.

  Only when the Hunter Clades were unleashed on unsuspecting worlds, could they feel the touch of the Sun.

  Today was not the time for the kheen paekshan, but the full population of my Bough stood at rigid attention. We stood, hands at our sides, neck exposed to the will of the Dareen. My Seed Pod stood together in the order of our merit. I was near the end of the line.

  I had never seen this many Boughs collected in one place. Even on days of great importance, only our local Branch gathered together like this. The only time anyone could remember, when more Dok were called upon, was when the World Tree itself was invaded by foul vermin from a Hunting Ground.

  That was before I was born, but those who lived through it described the War of Chitin as unthinkably savage. The Dok had been far more numerous at that time. It was our ‘great honor’ to be used as fodder to allow the Yodd time to prepare a counter-offensive. In the war’s wake, that Hunting Ground was declared Forbidden. Its Dew Gate was closed forever.

  In a flash of blinding light, the Aella’dareen appeared before us. They were like us, but infinitely more perfect. To think of comparing oneself to the Dareen was punishable by whipping. Their feet did not even deign to touch the ground we walked upon.

  “Gullae.”

  Even a simple word slammed into me like a physical blow. I did my best not to falter. Falling to the ground would bring far greater shame than I wanted to imagine. Not only would I suffer, but my entire Seed Pod would be scrutinized for weakness. Some of our number had been Culled for this reason on prior occasions.

  “Among you… is a traitor.”

  Though none dared to speak, my entire pod stiffened in shock. Nevermind showing weakness, betraying the Aella’dareen was grounds for our entire Bough to be Pruned. Our bloodlines would be destroyed down to the root. Those of our blood who had joined the Hunter Clades would be declared ‘suspect’ and sent on the most dangerous Hunts. They would be guaranteed to lose their lives for the will of the Dareen.

  “One of you has Stolen from your betters. A personal item, that mere gullae are unworthy to even touch.”

  My ears started to twitch. I resisted the urge to reach up and grab them with my entire being. It was like a burning itch that clawed its way out of my skin. The longer I resisted, the worse it got.

  “Can you hide something for me, Vi-Vi?” Someone precious to me had asked. “We’re not allowed to have personal possessions in the Clades. But… It was a gift. I can’t let anything happen to it.”

  “We have caught the Traitor, but the item remains missing. In our benevolence, we will allow those gathered here One chance. Return the item to your betters.”

  “Can you promise me Vi-Vi? Swear on your heart for me.”

  I could feel the attention of my Pod on me. Pods were discouraged from commingling with each other. The competition to join the Clades was all that we should be focused on. Making friends in other Pods was a sign of weakness. Anything more than that was betraying the will of the Dareen. Only those selected to plant the next seeds could have such concerns.

  Keeping a secret in a Pod was impossible. The Pod protected those within it from the outside, like a hardened shell. Everything was shared with those within. None of my Pod spoke up. Even if they ostracized me now, it would doom all of them by association.

  Another flash of light burned my sensitive retinas. The Traitor was summoned, bound in chains from head to foot. My blood ran cold. I could recognize those intricate tattoos rendered with root sap, even from across the Speaking Grounds. My own hands had added some of the swirling lines to their skin.

  “Since none of you wretches will come forward… the punishment will be collective. Each of your Seed Pods will select their weakest member. They will be Forbidden from the kheen paekshan forever. With only their fists and feet, they will beat this Traitorous Wretch until it is dead. Any who refuse to strike, or do so too weakly, will have their entire Pod Culled.”

  “Those who are selected, step forward for the Judgement of the Dareen.”

  “Whatever happens to me out there, I promise that we’ll still see each other again Vi-Vi.”

  I did not have to look at my Pod to know their choice. My feet carried me forward, even though it felt like my whole world was ending. Others like me stepped out from the lines, but I would be the first to arrive beneath the Dareen’s gaze. Getting close to them was the closest thing to the Sun I’d ever felt. It burned, but not in the pleasant way the Clades described.

  “So even among the weak, some have true commitment to their Betters’ will. Very well little sapling. For being the first to strike, we will give you a boon. You will join the next Hunt. Your death will clean the stain from your Pod’s honor.”

  The pain was beyond reckoning. I looked down at the already battered form of the one I adored more than any other. The stares of a thousand-thousand of my kin crushed me from all sides. Two eyes which I could get lost in stared up at me, pleading even though their mouth was gagged.

  “I need you, my love. Do this favor for me?”

  I balled up my fist and struck.

  I was yanked out of the memory by a slender hand slapping me on the side of my snout with full force. The scent of blood filled my nostrils as Visk’s delicate skin was sliced by one of the sharp scales that protected my mouth. A hiss of pain left their lips, but anger more than overpowered any discomfort they were feeling.

  My eyes blinked and focused on the elf, who was glaring at me. Their moonlit eyes held a boundless fury that was directed at me. Visk was no longer hyper-ventilating. Instead, their chest heaved with rage. The odor of rotting earth that exuded from them had twisted into burning charcoal, acrid and noxious.

  “How DARE you!” Visk hissed at me. They balled up their bleeding fist as if to strike me with it, but a slight tremor ran up their arm. Some of the anger in their eyes simmered into grief. “That was not for you! I gave you no permission to… to see any of that!”

  “I did not see it,” I said carefully. The experience had been extremely disorienting. I hadn’t watched it from over Visk’s shoulder. For just a little while I was Visk. Echoes of what they had felt still lingered in my mind. “I lived it, as you did.”

  My entire life, I had been free. While my actions might have been motivated by fear of danger or repercussions at times, everything I had done had ultimately been my choice. At any time, I could choose to fight my way out of my surroundings and take to the sky. The winds would take me to wherever I wanted, far far away from everything I had known.

  The experience, however brief, of being controlled and dominated was eye opening. In some ways, to Visk I was no different than the shining beings who had dictated their entire existence. My will was the difference between life and death, freedom or eternal servitude. Visk grovelled in my presence because doing anything else meant that I might not make only them suffer, but everyone else around them as well.

  “You what?” Visk whispered. Their ears dipped down and touched their shoulders. “You… you could feel what I was feeling? Hear what I was thinking?” Rather than the hollow acceptance of death, or righteous rage from having their private memories violated, all I could hear from Visk was a millennia deep vulnerability.

  “I am sorry, Visk.” I removed my head from their lap and uncurled my body to give them some space. They remained seated where they were. A small trickle of blood welled up from between their knuckles and rolled down their arm. “You were breaking apart. I… did not want to lose you.”

  “You’ve never had Me, not really,” they said bitterly. “What you’ve had is the weepy coward who plays cat and mouse to get your attention. Poor little weak and vulnerable VISK.” They spat at their own name, though no phlegm left their lips.

  “That’s the name the Hunters gave me, not my real name. It means ‘donkey foal’. That’s all I was to them, a cute little pack mule to carry their things.”

  I waited in silence to see if Visk would continue to speak. They did not. The dark of the tunnel descended around us like a shroud. Only my amber eyes and Visk’s moonlit orbs gave off an inner light.

  “Even if I have never known the real You and the face you have shown to me has been a lie… I would still reach out to you.” My tail trailed across the floor, stirring up the dust of ages. “You would be right to call me a selfish bastard, for meddling in things that I have no right to. Whether you believe that or not, it won’t change how I act. If I see you in such a state of distress again, I’d reach out to you in the same way.”

  “You can’t just fix everything by throwing your magic around, bastard.” Visk sourly pursed their lips, though their ears gained a small amount of height from their shoulders.

  “My Cassia and Edith tell me that all the time,” I responded grimly. “But I do not regret that magic allowed me to feel what you feel, for just a little while. I will be more mindful of… being overwhelming to you.”

  “... Why is she ‘My’ Cassia, and Edith is just Edith?”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that initially. Sure, there was certainty in my gut that there was a distinction between the two. At some point I had thought of Edith with ‘My’ attached to her identity. As distance had grown between us, it no longer felt appropriate. I’d also not addressed Cassia in that manner when our relationship was under heavy strain. It felt disrespectful to ‘claim’ her as my own, when she herself had not made that decision.

  “Everyone I care about is ‘Mine’,” I eventually explained. “But to what degree is up to them. Even as useless as he is, Sir Kenneth could still be considered ‘mine’.” Surprisingly that drew a small smirk from Visk’s lips, but they quickly hid it. “Cassia is ‘My’ Cassia because… we share a bond that is stronger than any other. It was tested… but it bent and healed, rather than broke.”

  “Edith is just Edith, because our accord is incomplete. I have hurt her in ways that are difficult to reconcile. She also… has placed herself in a position which makes it difficult to approach. While I do not know much of her past, my Cassia has told me that a great amount of pain has hardened her feelings, both for good and ill.”

  Visk silently stared at me for a long time before speaking.

  “And if I wanted to be ‘My’ Visk to you, to be owned and treasured by you would you?”

  The question unsettled me. While I had experienced a little of Visk’s life, it had only convinced me that I knew very little about them. There were great unplumbed depths of hurt and meaning behind Visk’s words. Saying the wrong thing could cause them even more pain, as it already had.

  “I’d want that to be with the ‘real’ you, the one you consider yourself to be, and not what you think I’d want.” Visk went to object, but I pushed my snout up against the back of their bleeding hand. “That does not mean you need to be who you were in the past. Nor does it mean you need to be someone different in the future. If you ask me to treasure you, then I will.”

  “But what if what the ‘real’ me wants is for you to tell me who or what to be?”

  “Then that is something that we can figure out together as equals, not as a youngling who knows far too little about the world to make an informed decision, and someone who is suffering greatly. If there is anything I was to tell you to be, Visk, it is this: I want you to be happy. And I do not want a fake smile. I want to work with you, as long as it takes, for you to smile at me genuinely.”

  “Elves don’t smile to show joy, Boss. We use our ears.”

  “I’d gathered that. A poor choice of words on my part. What I desire is for your ears to never have reason to wilt and for your scent to smell of sun-kissed earth.”

  Visk’s eyebrows shot skywards. “Gee Boss. You were really making a mess of things, then you turn around and say something romantic like that? You’ll make an elf blush.” Their mask fell back into place, but I could see under it just a bit better. Visk allowed their scent to settle into a gentle whisper, rather than shutting me off from it entirely.

  “If I wanted to make you blush, I’d pin you down with my claws and call you a ‘good elf’.” Visk sputtered, their ears vibrating intensely. Now that I could detect more of their scent, I could detect that Visk regarded this type of teasing as exciting. There was still an undercurrent of vulnerability to it, but so long as I was careful it would be fine.

  “Now, what was this about stealing potions from the crazy hermit Alchemist?”