“You should be in bed, Kaelus.”
Kaelus freezes for a moment before shuffling out from behind the couch and standing. His father plucks the kettle from the oven with a wrought iron hook and sets it on a woven potholder without sparing a glance in his direction. The kettle’s whistle fades, exposing the tense silence that drapes over the house like a stifling blanket.
“You’re leaving to visit the dragons again.” Kaelus begins, his voice a murmur.
“I am, but I always come back, don’t I?”
Kaelus nods and hums in agreement, squirming where he stands. Steam rises as water gurgles into the only mug his father uses, and the herbal scent of pine needles and honey curls through the air. His father chuckles, the sound low and warm as he pads closer and ruffles Kaelus’s hair.
“Dad,” he whines and raises his hands, waving them about.
“Alright. Tell you what, keep this safe for me, okay?”
Kaelus lifts his head just as his father places his hat onto his head. He tilts his long ears down as the wide brim brushes against them, and he raises his small hands to fiddle with the thick leather.
“You will get used to it.” His father says as he looks down at him with a grin. “I expect this back when I return, alright?”
“Yeah. I promise to take good care of it.” Kaelus responds as he cranes his neck up to meet his father’s matching eyes past the wide brim.
Kaelus opens his mouth, but stops and tilts his head back down to stare at his feet. Next time. He would ask his father to bring him next time he returned. He would show his responsibility by taking care of his hat, first.
“Good. Now get some sleep and take care. Love you, kiddo.”
Kaelus watches his father move to the small couch and place his mug on the squat table before it. He drops his weight onto the furniture that shudders under his weight and reaches for his boots tucked next to two smaller pairs beside to the door.
“Love you, too, dad.”
Kaelus makes his way back to his bedroom, but pauses at the threshold and turns around. His father slips out the front door and disappears. As the door clicks shut, Kaelus wonders why mom never watches dad leave anymore, but the thought is fleeting. He yawns and slips into his bedroom, keeping his father’s hat on.
* * * * *
Kaelus holds his hat in place as brown leather flaps against his face. A ruby scaled dragon soars overhead with a bellow, each wing beat producing gales that whip through the sprawling kingdom below. He jerks his wild gaze skyward just as the late morning sun glows through the dragon’s webbed wings. As the dragon flies past, its wings bathe the streets in warm ruddy shadows like stained glass. Kaelus feels his heart hammer in his chest as he watches the beast fly north, oblivious to all else around him.
“You will catch a bug with your mouth hanging open like that,” an elderly elf woman remarks as she hobbles by.
Kaelus clears his throat and begins walking once more while ignoring the comment. His olive eyes track the dragon’s flight before it disappears beyond the sharp, towering buildings jutting out like spears ready to lance prey that flies too close. His fingers fiddle with the buckle of his cross-body bag with restless energy.
“Obviously, you don’t understand the sheer energy it takes to maintain such a size without a constant flow of mana.” He grumbles under his breath.
Seriously? No one else is surprised about a dragon flying overhead in their true form? I’m surrounded by idiots.
Kaelus takes in the bustling streets around him as he weaves through the throng of elves and tethered dragons, bumping shoulders with anyone who refuses to move past him with a sneer. Most low and middle class civilians wear simple tunics and dresses in drab tints of reds, blues, and greens with simple stitchwork. The ones who wear more elaborate outfits with flamboyant colors, however, are the same elves who have dragons by their sides. The dragons look more akin to elves in their lesser forms with some distinguishing features that set them apart. Their skin is scaly and comes in a variety of color, horns jut out through their hair, and their tails trail behind them as they follow their masters, some towering over the crowd, and others getting caught underfoot.
Kaelus glares at the outfits the dragons wear, or more accurately, the lack thereof. Most are lucky to wear decorative sheer gossamer while others are stripped bare. He notes with embarrassment for them that while dragons have impressive curves and muscles along their pecs and body, they lack obvious sexual reproductive features. The only identifiers that hint at their genders are pouches around their groins and subtle facial features.
Some dragons hunch over as elves yank on leashes collared to their necks, and others flinch when their master raises their hands in gesturing manners as they converse with another elf. He pulls his gaze away when one elf snatches her tall dragon by a horn and begins yelling at them, while at their scaly feet, blackberries litter and stain the cobblestones purple. Kaelus curls his hands into tight fists and lowers his head as he presses on.
Stepping in will only make it worse for them. Kaelus decides with a grimace, his face feeling hot and his pulse quickening.
“Somebody stop that dragon!”
“Rosie, stop! Come back!”
Kaelus turns at the sounds of chaos. Elves shout and scream, and a couple of dragons startle, barreling into the elvish folk unfortunate to be near them. Through the squirming mass behind him, a flash of salmon pink winks into view and rushes at him. Kaelus freezes, and the small dragon leaps and slams into his chest with a shriek of surprise, a wet crack following that. He gasps as the dragon knocks the wind from him and leaves him staggering backwards. He wraps his arms around the small creature radiating warmth, her claws scratching at his silver jumpsuit as Kaelus finds his footing.
“What in the...”
Kaelus stares down at the small dragon with his mouth agape. She lifts her head and blinks her copper colored eyes at him in return and tilts her head. He cautiously moves his hands to pluck her sharp fingers from the thick cotton of his clothes, when she wails in despair and scrambles against him. Kaelus startles and focuses his efforts on keeping the dragon still by wrapping his arms tight around her waist and rumpling her frilly dress. Despite her small size, he finds himself struggling against her, her short tail lashing against his thighs and dangerously close to leaving him a writhing mess on the ground.
This one smells like… sickly sweet sugar.
“Hey, easy,” Kaelus murmurs, keeping his voice gentle as he follows the dragon’s frantic search against the ground and flinching at each strike of her tail. “What are you looking for? And why are you running?”
Kaelus takes a step back and blinks at the wreckage on the ground. Gold yolk oozes beneath a shattered white shell, and he realizes the remains do not belong to any dragon species. He returns his attention to the dragon in his arms. She is no taller than three feet, and like all other dragon folk, she has a face no different from him, besides the sharp fangs she flashes when she opens her mouth, that is. Kaelus notes with fascination that a texture like salt rubs off her exposed scaly skin and leaves that part of her with a smooth feelings.
“Interesting,” he murmurs before his thoughts are cut off by the dragon’s whimpers as she climbs further up to find purchase on his shoulders. “Ow, easy. Did you steal that cockatrice egg? You’re going to get yourself in serious trouble snatching food from people like that.”
“Rosie, there you are! By the Celestials, I’m so sorry about her, sir.”
Kaelus grunts, hunching over as the rowdy dragon sinks the claws of her feet into his shoulders and props her hands on his head and cries out in excitement. He ogles the pair of boobs suddenly hovering near his face before the weight is lifted from his shoulders. Kaelus straightens when the woman takes a step back, his cheeks warm as he struggles to maintain a neutral expression. The blush disappears immediately, though as he snatches his hat off his head and examines it, releasing a sigh when he finds the worn leather unmarred. The cold rush of fear disappears as he gazes at his fedora for a second longer.
“It’s fine.”
Kaelus puts his hat back on and rubs his shoulders as his eyes rove over the elf hugging the wriggling dragon against her chest. The woman is pretty cute herself, in his opinion. Her blonde hair is clean and styled, and that big, gaudy teal gown does make her silver eyes pop and matches her dragon's rather modest attire. He decides corsets do wonders, too.
“Why are you acting like this, Rosie? Now I owe that vendor credits and an apology.”
Kaelus brings himself back to reality. The elf fixes her companion’s copper curls tangled around her small horns, and the dragon rumbles and wags her tail. Her master, on the other hand, gives the shattered egg a disappointed glance.
“Is she mute?” Kaelus asks, redirecting his attention to the dragon.
She looks young, but guild bred dragons are anything but natural. It definitely makes studies and research more complex. Kaelus thinks to himself with a frown, his brow twitching.
The elf looks up from her dragon, her gaze lingering on Kaelus for a few moments. He is not quite sure how he feels being scrutinized like an object the woman may deem worthy of purchase. As though he is a tool to help fix her problems, and not valued as an individual with his own thoughts and feelings. For a moment, Kaelus wonders what her views are about her own dragon. He imagines the rich have less troubles when they can throw money at them.
“Yes,” she starts before her shoulders slump. “She’s been mute since I bought her from the Garnet Guild… twenty years ago now? I saved her from the Kennels. They warned me she wasn’t very smart, but… I couldn’t leave knowing she was going to be put down all because she didn’t have desirable traits. This past week, though, she’s been acting off.”
Kaelus tilts his head down, his foot tapping impatiently against the street as his thumb brushes against his lips in contemplation. His throbbing shoulders rise and tense as he realizes the err in his biased opinion of the woman. Regardless of her blatant display of wealth, he does realize that Rosie would not act so carefree—even if she lacks greater intelligence—were her master abusive.
“How old is she?”
The elf gives Kaelus a smile that lights up her whole demeanor. “My baby is finally turning a century old.”
Rosie growls and grins in response, throwing her claws up before wrapping her arms around her master’s neck and nuzzling with a loud purr. The elf giggles and returns the affectionate display. Kaelus crosses his arms as he watches them, tension easing from his expression.
“That could explain her behavior. Dragons reach their full size and maturity at a century. Depending on her secondary gender, which I would hypothesis is likely delta or omega based on her small stature, you may start noticing more nesting behaviors.”
Kaelus presses his lips together as his thoughts spiral and branch out. He has no way of gauging her secondary designation without proper reactions from nearby dragons or assessing her pouches, which are likely going to be skewed due to the surrounding environment, anyway. He muses that ‘her biological aspect will also not define her personality so much as it alters her primal responses to certain stimuli’ as the book of dragon ecology explains.
“Got it, thank you! You must be a graduate from one of the guilds, right? I’m sorry about Rosie again, but thanks for not hitting her.”
Kaelus nods at her remark and frowns, watching as Rosie climbs onto her master’s shoulders and plays with her blonde curls with a childish fascination. She chirps and growls with a sharp smile as she tangles the elf’s hair.
Her birth defects are obvious enough that the guilds need to stop. She appears oblivious to social cues, and she's mute. I suspect her chances of survival in the wild would be significantly reduced. Kaelus thinks, clenching his fists as his vision glazes over.
Around them, elves cast cursory glances as they pass, dragons keep quiet as they follow their masters, and the sounds are muddled background noises. When the woman before him speaks up, Kaelus is aware of the world around him once more. The sun casts a warm buzz across his exposed skin and leaves him sweating, cockatrices cluck and crow from their cages, and elf children laugh and scream as they rush through the bustling crowds and overflowing stalls.
“Oh, I am so sorry about your clothes! I didn’t realize she scratched them up. Is there some way I can repay you?”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Kaelus looks down at his outfit and grimaces at the frayed material, but thankful for the thicker material keeping him from becoming a dragon's glorified scratching post. He returns his gaze to the elf. For a moment, he grins at the thought of asking her to take him on an elaborate date. He mentally curses his tight schedule and decides perhaps another time.
“There’s really no need to repay me,” Kaelus begins, clearing his throat. “But I am a graduate of the Superior Silver Guild specializing in dragon research. If you would allow me to scan Rosie for data analysis, I’ll accept that as payment.”
Kaelus smirks and raises his head while crossing his arms over his chest. Rosie growls and mirrors him, taking on a prideful pose, while her master gives him a wide grin.
“Of course. That seems more than fair to me.”
Kaelus nods and raises his left arm. His long sleeve slides down his arm, and his wrist phone gleams in the sunlight. He taps the small round screen, causing a holographic touchscreen to appear. His fingers fly across the levitating screen before he angles the display at Rosie.
“Alright, now say porcini.”
Rosie unleashes a screechy roar and wags her tail incessantly in response. Kaelus hears the elf woman laugh again, but he directs his focus towards the screen in front of him.
-
Species: Cupractea Drakus Simplex
-
Rank: Basic
-
Class: N/A
-
Level: 1 / 600
-
Stars: 0 / 6
-
HP: 20
-
MP: 10
-
EP: 15
“So she’s a drake, not a dragon. I suppose that may correlate with her size to some extent. Cupractea… so her teeth and claws and horns are made of copper, so Actea Simplex must be her floral representation. Based on her scale texture, I would theorize her scales are made of pink salt stone. That would explain why friction causes exfoliation.” Kaelus mutters as he adds notes to the file.
His eyes flick to her stats next, his expression unchanged as he brushes his thumb against his bottom lip in contemplation.
“She’s not registered under my name, so I won’t get to see the rest of her stats. How disappointing. So she has no skills based on her lack of stars, and perhaps one attack. She may lack a spell entirely or have no knowledge of it, although as a basic rank, theoretically, her magic type will either be mineral based, floral based, or poison, which I will mark the last as highly unlikely, but not improbable.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
Kaelus looks up from his screen at the elf woman who stands with a sheepish expression. He forgot she was still there.
“Sorry for everything today. I better go pay for that egg and apologize to the vendor Rosie stole it from. It was nice meeting you!”
“Yeah, take care,”
He gives a halfhearted wave to the woman and Rosie as they disappear into the crowd, although his attention deviates back to the floating screen of data. He grins as he adds the document to his small collection of gathered scans, naming it ‘Rosie’. When a passerby jostles him from his racing thoughts with a shoulder bump, he shoots the elf a withering look as the green glow of his screen disappears.
Actually, is it getting busier? What time is it?
Kaelus blinks owlishly at the condensed crowd of elves with dragons interspersed before glancing down at the time on his wrist phone.
12:39
“Damn it! Everyone’s going to be sold out of everything at this point.”
Kaelus clasps the bag dangling against his hip as he rushes through the crowd while heaving for air. Around him, some elves spout insults at him, which he ignores as his gaze sweeps across the shopping district. Crowding between shops are makeshift stalls crafted of repurposed wood and other materials displaying various wares and goods. A number of elves dressed in different colored jumpsuits like his own blend in with the populace, which he notes by the lack of outer gear, they are Privates of a guild like himself. He recognizes the pattern. Small business owners set up temporary shops a week before graduates from the surrounding guilds set sail for Dezelmeir.
Of course everyone has the same idea as me. Kaelus grumbles to himself. Get what we need a couple days in advance before the journey. Make everything more expensive for us, why don't you.
He pauses, placing his hands on his knees as he gasps for air. When he straightens up, a cluster of guild members surrounding an alley catches his attention. His interest piqued, Kaelus makes his way towards the group, cutting through the flow of civilians. The crowd is too condensed for him to get a good view, but he notices the stall blocking the alleyway.
“Excuse me,” Kaelus says as he taps on a nearby man’s shoulder, “what are they selling?”
The elf turns to him. He stands about an inch taller than Kaelus at six feet, which with the taller folk in the back, makes peaking overhead difficult.
“Charms and stories of his adventures, mostly.”
The taller man turns his back without giving Kaelus a second look.
“Charms?”
Kaelus raises a brow as he skirts around everyone in an attempt to find someplace he can see and hear the vendor. After making a couple passes and failing to find anywhere to squeeze through, he gives up with a low growl.
“Whatever,” Kaelus snaps as he turns and throws his hands up. “I don’t have time for this. Whatever he’s selling sounds like a scam anyway. Charms for dragons…. How would that work? For or against them? To attract them, repel them, or weaken them? It doesn’t make sense unless the charms have some way of repelling mana and forcing dragons into their mortal forms, but that wouldn’t work in Dezelmeir.”
He muses and obsesses over the foreign concept that makes his brows furrow and a scowl warp his expression as he ambles with the flow of foot traffic. Kaelus blinks and looks up with a puzzled expression.
Shit. How far have I wandered? This is getting ridiculous.
Kaelus stops, causing some passerby to shove into him as they continue moving through the crowd. He scoffs, although he has no way of telling who the offender might be. Ignoring the slight, he weaves out of the congested street of elves and into an area with more space. Kaelus scowls as he scans his surroundings, his eye twitching. Just as his knuckles turn white from clenching his hands, his shoulders ease as he locates his target a couple blocks north.
“Finally,” he grumbles under his breath as he hikes uphill.
Kaelus's calves burn at the exertion and sweat beads his brow as he clenches his teeth and heaves for air. The surrounding buildings looming over the rudimentary stalls are a conglomeration of gray stones, navy roof tiles, and white brick framed by wood in various blue hues. The kingdom rises with disregard for the intimidating slopes, resulting in structures with wooden stairs and extended walls to level them out against the steep angles.
Who’s bright idea was it to build a kingdom on hills? Kaelus thinks to himself as he kneels and gasps for air once more.
When he stands back up, he takes in the expansive kingdom from his vantage point. He is unable to see past the towering walls with even taller spires. Flapping in the wind from the lances placed upon the roofs are navy flags with the symbol of a crescent scythe etched in silver. Kaelus watches the flags for a moment, entranced by the long, triangular ribbons that flutter in the breeze.
He turns his attention to the building towering over him, and takes a deep breath before he climbs up the wooden stairs. His boots thump against the planks, and the door to the establishment groans as it pivots on rusted hinges.
“Welcome to the Guiding Greenhorn,” a masculine voice calls out.
Kaelus blinks as he adjusts his vision to the dim interior of the shop. He immediately notices the set of curling green dragon horns mounted in the top center of the shop when their reflective surface catches the wavering candlelight. His expression warps into a grimace of disgust, and he hesitates at the threshold.
“What’s the matter, boy?”
Kaelus levels his glare at the shopkeeper next. He can feel his blood boil as he clenches his hands at his side. The elf appears to be a senior with his beard brushed into a silky waterfall the color of froth and droopy eyes that force the wrinkles surrounding them to converge as he squints. The elder cranes his neck up to glance at the horns before returning his attention to Kaelus with a huff.
“Rude boy. Do I look spry enough to slay a dragon?”
“No, but I don’t know how many years that’s been there. Maybe you were a vicious dragon slayer in your prime.” Kaelus retorts, crossing his arms and giving the elf a nasty look.
Silence permeates the shop for a few seconds before the ancient elf cackles.
“You are a fiery one.” The shopkeeper says as he wipes a tear from his eye. “I assure you I have never been foul enough to kill a dragon. My daughter brought those back when she returned from her expedition in Dezelmeir. Told me they came from a feral drake that attacked her. Thank the Celestials she has a good dragon partner.”
Kaelus’s shoulders slump, and he grimaces and berates himself for jumping to conclusions. He tenses as the elder elf taps his cane against the floor as he strides closer. The warm light from the various candles reflect against his bald head, and his proud posture makes the cane more of a weapon and less of a crutch in his bony hands. Kaelus keeps his head low, waiting for a corrective strike with the twisted wooden cane.
“Children these days.” The elf mutters under his breath. “Now, are you here to buy something or are you going to continue to be insolent until I boot you from my establishment?"
“I’m sorry. I’m here to buy.”
Kaelus flinches when the shopkeeper slams his cane down between his feet, staring nervously at the insignificant inches between the weapon and his boot. He has no doubt the elderly elf could stab through the leather with the blunt end of his cane if he felt so inclined. He swallows hard and raises his head to apologize further.
“You truly are Feylun’s boy.”
His breath hitches, and for a moment, Kaelus forgets how to breathe. The words get caught in his throat and choke him.
“He pulled the same fit the moment he saw those horns, except unlike you, he was too stubborn to apologize afterwards. He was very lucky I was feeling generous enough to supply him before his own trip to Dezelmeir that day. I assume that is why you are here?”
He nods, unable to look away from the ancient elf.
“Very well. Am I going to have to supply a greenhorn like yourself with a full camping set?”
“No sir,” Kaelus whispers, a small smile curling on his lips. He clears his throat and puffs up his chest as he recovers. “I'm fully aware what's supplied during our trip, and for the most part, I'm prepared. I just need a sleeping bag and a compass.”
The shopkeeper raises a pale brow and keeps his expression neutral.
“Proper clothing?”
“Check,” Kaelus responds with a self-satisfied huff as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Daily personal gear?”
“Got it.”
“Hygiene and medical kits?”
“Obviously.”
“Emergency communication tools?”
“Uh…”
Kaelus gives the elder elf an awkward grin as he rubs the back of his neck. The shopkeeper keeps going, his grin growing wider.
“Gear for environmental factors?”
“Well, I have… something I’m sure.”
“Repair kits for when gear ultimately breaks?”
“No…?”
“Insolent boy!”
Kaelus yelps and stumbles back, clutching his thigh where the elf smacks him with his cane. “Ow! Damn it, I get it! I'm not prepared, then."
“Indeed. Come on then, let us supply you. Maybe then you will survive your first excursion into wild dragon territory.”
Kaelus grumbles under his breath as he follows the ferocious elder, rubbing his throbbing leg. He knows he will have an unsightly bruise if he survives this encounter. He wonders how many injuries he will accumulate in Dezelmeir during his six-month excursion.
I guess I don’t really know what I’m getting into. I do know the guild has obtained territory in Dezelmeir for new guild members to safely explore and gather dragons in, but how long will I be there before I leave the safe zone for uncharted territory? Hopefully I will have at least one dragon partner by then…. Shit. Guess I'm going to have to learn how to run, too.
Kaelus shouts once more as the shopkeeper smacks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He rubs his upper arm next.
* * * * *
Kaelus heaves a sigh as he stumbles down steps he does not recall being so steep. His hands tighten around the straps of his new backpack as he attempts to stand straight despite the weight pressing against his back. His legs are bent and his outfit feels more unbearable in the mid-afternoon sun as his collar sticks to his neck.
“Why do I feel like I’ve been taken advantage of?” He grumbles under his breath as he begins trudging down the steep incline.
Kaelus grits his teeth as he focuses on keeping his new pack from toppling him downhill; he bemoans the distance he has to walk, wondering if he has enough credits to afford a carriage ride. The streets are less hoatching as the sun rolls at its own languid pace across the cerulean sky, which he notes as the only good thing about his current predicament. Kaelus pauses when his wrist phone buzzes against him. He lifts his arm and furrows his brows in confusion.
He taps the green button on the small screen, which changes the display into a green phone icon, and raises his arm closer to his face.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this… Kaelus Felister?” A feminine voice asks, her voice tinny as it escapes from the speaker of his device.
“That would be me. Who am I speaking with?” Kaelus responds.
He raises a brow and scans his surroundings to ensure no one is eavesdropping. Only a few elves pass by him. Most eye his large bag with a grin of amusement or ignore him, and others huddle in small groups while chattering with excitement in their voices.
“I’m Naki with Crescent Cache Company,” the woman continues, her voice slipping into a professional drone. “I’m calling in regards to a Mister… Feylun Felister. We’ve been trying to reach him regarding his bill for his storage unit, but he hasn’t been answering our calls. You’re listed on the caller list, and we had legal documentation sent in regarding his uh… passing a week ago. As the heir to Mr. Felister’s belongings, you have the right to visit the storage unit and take what you need or pay the rent to prevent everything else from being auctioned off.”
Kaelus blinks as he struggles to comprehend Naki’s words.
What? Where did the documents come from? I assume they are certificates of death, and likely proof of my identity. But why now? I seriously doubt mom would have gone through the trouble. And how was my number put on a caller list? That can’t even be possible. Dad died a century ago! I was still a child then, much less had my own wrist phone. What the hell is going on?!
“I will head that way now. Send me the location.” Kaelus responds with a frown.
“Yes, sir. We will see you shortly.”
The call ends and his wrist phone pings with a notification shortly after. Kaelus taps the screen, and a holographic touchscreen levitates before him. He takes in the minimal information including the address and company logo with a contemplative glare.
“What are you hiding, dad?”