“1,895 days left…” by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

  The chill was relentless in the Capitol, more than any other place on the Map. Despite layering on more coats, Redfred found the cold biting deeper and harder, as if each additional layer somehow invited further frost into his bones. He glanced down at his bare feet, stubbornly resisting covering them. He still believed with fervour that a Magi should walk barefoot as it is dictated by tradition.

  Pacing with aching steps within the confines of his office chamber, he was wearied by the endless nights spent poring over complaints and reports of misery that spanned the entirety of the Map laid out on his desk. There was no farming, no fishing, no game to hunt. People were cold and hungry.

  Each letter he penned in response, claiming the issues were under investigation, felt heavier with the knowledge that, in truth, no action was being taken. Winter's grip—the Winterqueen Fiona Mageschstea—was apathetic to the people's pleas.

  Redfred was abruptly startled by a sudden loud roar, followed by the thunderous impact of something colossal striking the ground. Moving swiftly to the window, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight that greeted him.

  There, sprawled across the main patio of the Whitestone Palace, lay a dead whale with six eyes.

  White Cloaks began to gather around the colossal whale, only to scatter as a jet of fire erupted nearby, forcing them into a hasty retreat.

  The impossible had happened—a dragon outside the borders of Cragua Island, directly defying the longstanding protocol between the Drach and Mageschstea. Such an act was dangerously close to a declaration of war, a breach of the already fragile peace that had been maintained through careful diplomacy for aeons.

  Redfred dashed out of his office, speeding to his steps as he aimed to reach the patio as quickly as possible. The implications of a dragon's presence here, now, twisted his stomach into knots.

  Upon arriving at the scene, Redfred was met with the snow around the whale completely melted, leaving the ground swamped in icy puddles, from which steam rose, cloaking the area in a thick, swirling fog.

  The Magi stood rooted to the spot as the silhouette drew nearer. It showed a woman clad in a silk green robe that clung to her form, revealing more than it concealed. She moved with an unhurried pace, exuding an air of sovereignty.

  Her narrow, almond-shaped eyes barely concealed the vibrant glow of her irises, while her straight, silky hair cascaded over her bare shoulders. Green scales waved over her cheeks, leaving no doubt about what or who she was.

  "Where is the Dame of this place?" Talathon Drach's voice boomed like thunder across the now-silent courtyard.

  "Your Drachdame, Your Grace, my name is Redfred Dra..." Redfred began, attempting to introduce himself.

  "The Dame! I said, Blue-One!" she cut him off.

  "As I was saying, Your Grace, the... our Dame is indisposed." Redfred quickly adjusted his approach, "But I would be most honoured to discuss any concerns you might have and..."

  "Are you taking me for a fool?" Talathon tilted her head dangerously close to Redfred. Her breath, a boiling warmth, brushed against his neck as she sniffed him, a gesture that sent shivers down his spine. "I recognize this scent. You were one of the little ones Sternach dragged around like little pets."

  Caught in the direct scrutiny of the dragon, Redfred didn't know how to feel. He bowed deeply to Talathon Drach, an act that forced her to take two steps back. "Yes, Your Grace, he was my Master," Redfred admitted.

  "You didn't do much to protect your Master, a true Menschen, and instead, you allow... this." With a sweeping gesture that encompassed the surroundings, Talathon opened her arms, her disdain as clear as the snow and ice blanketing the ground. "She doesn't even bother to face her foe. What a disgrace for your kind," she declared with contempt.

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  As Redfred straightened up from his deep bow, his gaze inadvertently caught the sudden, startling movement of the whale's eyes snapping open. The beast, presumed dead, surged to life with a terrifying stamina.

  It slid its massive body with an astonishing burst of strength, its tail propelling it forward as it devoured a handful of White Cloaks mages in a single, horrifying gulp.

  Reacting swiftly, Redfred shoved Talathon aside, not out of disrespect but in a desperate bid to protect her from the unforeseen threat. With trained movements, he conjured stone tendrils, manipulating the earth to form a cage around the whale. The tendrils tightened, intending to immobilize the massive creature, squeezing against its formidable bulk.

  However, the whale's strength was extraordinary, defying the norms of its kind. It thrashed against the stony grasp with an abnormal power.

  Redfred, with a sinking heart, understood that despite his quick thinking and the might of his magic, the whale's abnormal power posed a challenge far greater than he had anticipated.

  Realization dawned on Redfred with a chilling clarity: this whale had been transformed into a Nightmare. He was familiar with the contamination's ability to spread through humans and elves.

  Yet, this was the first instance he had witnessed its corrupting influence extend to other creatures.

  Straining against the limits of his power, Redfred attempted to tighten his magical grip, his hands moving with anguished precision as he sought to reinforce the stone tendrils that ensnared the monstrous whale. But, despite his efforts, the Nightmare before him proved to be beyond his magic once again.

  Talathon approached the ensnared creature with a purposeful stride. From within her, a furnace aglow with the intensity of molten lava prepared to unleash its fury. The Drachdame opened her maw, and from the depths of her being, she expelled fire towards the Nightmare.

  This was no ordinary flame; it was a manifestation of ancient magic and draconic wrath, a fire so potent it was said to cleanse the deepest shadows of corruption. Yet, against this Nightmare, even such fearsome power seemed insufficient.

  As the fire bathed the whale, its flesh sizzled and melted away, revealing and even consuming parts of its skeletal structure. But the creature was still alive, and as a Nightmare, it underwent a horrific metamorphosis right before their eyes.

  The whale's ribcage cracked open, unfurling to the sides. It began using its ribs as limbs, moving with the unsettling like of a spider.

  Redfred observed Talathon closely, noting the subtle, nervous twitch of her scales—a sign of her own deep calculation and concern over how to contend with the abomination before them. If a dragon couldn't kill it, what could?

  “Ra!” A deep voice shouted from behind.

  A towering column of light, pure and searing, descended from the heavens, striking the whale with divine precision. In an instant, the creature was consumed, its monstrous form disintegrating into nothing more than dust carried away by the wind.

  For a brief, surreal moment, the intensity of the light banished the surrounding darkness and radiated everything around. It felt as though the very essence of daylight had been summoned to their aid and returned.

  As the light receded, Redfred and the dragon turned towards their source, their gazes landing on a Magi.

  Lord Magi Regala Messe, one of the oldest Menschen known to exist, stood before them. Age had bestowed upon him a distinguished appearance, with white hair and slight wrinkles marking his complexion, giving him the semblance of a human in his forties winters.

  "Tally!" the old Menschen, Regala, called out with a voice that cut through the lingering tension of the aftermath.

  "Regie," Talathon responded, a rare smile gracing her features, "I see you're still among the living and in good shape like old times."

  "And you haven't changed one scale. You are as beautiful as I remember, if not more. So, what wind brings you to our Capitol?" Regala asked.

  "Your Dame. I need to have words with her," Talathon stated while her smile vanished.

  Upon hearing her purpose, Regala's momentarily lightened expression hardened once again into its usual sternness. "I was afraid you'll say that."

  

  On the forty-third Winter, I received a copy of the contract, a document whose complexity and bindings seemed insurmountable. Its clauses and stipulations were crafted with such meticulous upkeep that it appeared to be an unbreakable fortress of legality. I requested the aid of colleagues from the university's Law department, hoping that together, we might decipher the bloody document. Yet, despite our relentless pursuit of a flaw, the contract remained unbreakable. The breakthrough came not from a closer examination of what was written but from a shift in perspective. A simple yet profound insight was offered to me: perhaps the loophole lay not within the words themselves but in the silence between them, in what was left unsaid - there was only one female dragon. I hastily composed a telegram to Lord Magi Jaer. The message was a shot in the dark, a leap of faith without revealing who I truly was to the world. But I’ll be dammed if my own flesh and blood can’t marry for love. ——The Hexe - Book Two by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune, First Edition, 555th Summer