City of Light Chapter 48

Warf led them down into the ship's hold, a labyrinthine descent through creaking planks and the distant hum of the ship's engines. Each step resonated with a past Arcturus had nearly forgotten. The stench of steel, the scent of oiled leathers, and the unmistakable musk of gryphon feathers assaulted his senses, dragging him back to the man he once was—a loyal servant to Lumara, ready to venture wherever his king commanded.

His thoughts went to the comrades in arms that had perished during his years, believing to their final breaths the battles they fought were righteous and noble. How many lives had perished in this façade, serving the ideals of a mad king? Arcturus cast a glance back to the dragon that captured his heart, a fortress of crimson scales that had set him free. Without this majestic soul, he'd be just as the ones he'd fought this eve, blind to the crimes that'd festered beneath his very boots.

The hold was dimly lit and cavernous, a vast expanse designed to both man and gryphon, leaving enough room to spread their wings. The air was dry and warm, permeated with the faint tang of metal and the earthy aroma of stored provisions. Crates, boxes, and sacks were meticulously arranged along the walls and across the floor. Harnesses of supple leather, bags of grain and flour, and an array of medical supplies were all neatly cataloged. The wooden beams above were reinforced with iron brackets and echoed with the low creaks of the ship's movements.

Veledar had expanded to his full, majestic size, his curious snout hovering over Lyndis, Feku, and Natassa, who had spread out their various treasures before his massive paws. Lyndis was dramatically recounting their latest adventure, miming swordplay with enthusiastic flourishes, while Feku meticulously sorted coins, gems, and items into organized piles.

As Arcturus' gaze lingered upon them, he could feel the familiar chill within the dragon's scales through the bond they shared, a subtle indication of some shadow tainting the dragon's victory. Yet, he chose not to probe further. If Veledar wished to speak of it, he would do so in his own time. Besides, Arcturus did not wish to dampen the excitement that danced in the eyes of his companions. The gleaming treasures reflected in Veledar's flaring nostrils brought a rare lightness to their weary night.

With each piece of armor Arcturus removed, the weight of the evening's encounters bore down on him. Visions of the night's deadly dance flashed before his eyes: every life he had taken, the blood that had spilled, the harrowing reveals, and the profound losses. The memories clung to him, a relentless specter that chilled his very soul. Though Cornellius lay dead, it felt hollow, anything but a victory.

Asterion trotted over with the heavy gait of weariness, the muted thud of his hooves blending with the creaking planks of the ship's hold. He unfurled his bedroll with a practiced motion, the fabric whispering softly against the floor, before collapsing onto it. With a hearty snort, he drifted into an immediate, deep sleep, clutching the long-sought scroll between his muscular arms. For the first time since Arcturus had met him, a look of true contentment softened the minotaur's rugged features, the lines of worry and fatigue momentarily erased from his snout.

The hold was a dimly lit sanctuary, lanterns casting a warm, flickering glow that danced across the wooden walls and crates. Shadows played along the beams above, creating an almost ethereal ambiance. In stark contrast to Asterion's peaceful repose, Merlia had settled on the opposite side of the hold. She slumped against a stack of crates, her posture weary and defeated. The flask in her hand glinted dully in the lantern light as she downed its contents with a practiced swig. Her eyes, usually sharp and bright, were now dull and unfocused, staring off into another plane of existence, far removed from the present. When Arcturus cautiously asked if she was alright, the dwarf merely grunted, and he left her alone.

He could understand that, and so he took to cleaning his armor in the meantime. It allowed him to focus on something else, to dull the sharp edge of the losses he had suffered. Cloth in hand, he pressed against the metal plates, telling himself it was all worth it. As he worked, his eyes caught sight of Krotos, the gryphon's lively demeanor now dimmed and reserved. The night must have struck him harder than most. The proud catbird hadn't even attended to the grime and blood that clung to his usually pristine feathers.

Upon his beak was a look the knight knew all too well, a look haunted by loss. He had seen it in the eyes of other paladins and in his own reflection over these many years. It was no surprise when the gryphon padded over, his steps heavy with the weight of grief.

"Needed the company, didn't you?" Arcturus said as the catbird settled down beside him.

Krotos sighed, his usually bright eyes now shadowed with pain. "Couldn't stop thinking about it." he admitted, his voice flat and haunted. "I keep replaying it over and over in my head—what I could have done differently. If I had reacted faster... if I hadn't been stunned—"

“If you'd never gone to that wizard's sanctum." Arcturus murmured, his voice trailing off as memories surfaced. He clutched his son tightly in his mind's eye, the vision of running down the cobblestone street searing into his heart. “If you'd taken better precautions…"

Their eyes met in the heavy silence, the haze of loss hanging over them like a shroud. Eventually, Krotos thumped his tail softly, the sound a faint echo in the dim hold. He ran a talon absently across the wooden floor, his ears splayed with uncertainty. “Does it get any easier?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “You know… “

Arcturus let out a heavy sigh, his gaze distant. “You might think you've moved on, that you've healed." He rubbed his chest absentmindedly, “But it's a deception we often fall prey to. The truth is, you're forever bound to that moment. It's like a weight that never truly leaves you." He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes it's just a scent, a sight, or a sound, and suddenly, you're right back there, reliving it all over again."

With a mournful chirp, the gryphon collapsed his head into the man's lap. “I wish you and that blasted dragon of yours never came into our lives."

From the depths of ache, words emerged, yet the knight harbored no resentment towards the deflated gryphon. With his duty to cleanse his armor momentarily set aside, his hands moved to soothe Krotos' feathery neck. There, he worked to ease the pain that clinging to them both like a terrible beast.

"The hardest part." Krotos whimpered, "Is having to confront them. To look Gwen and Mary in the eye and admit that Gus won't be returning home. Despite our dragon, the wizard, and you, there was nothing we could do."

With a heavy swallow, his hands found their way to the gryphon's ear, right at the base. "There were those assigned such a duty." he murmured, "They claimed it was the most difficult task they ever faced... Stepping into the lives of those unfortunate souls and shattering them."

“What do I even tell them?

“The truth."

Krotos pulled back, hurt in his eyes, “I'm not sure that I can."

"Of course you can." He placed a firm finger on the gryphon's chest "You owe it to them and to yourself." As he held his gaze it softened, "I'm not saying it won't hurt; it's going to be dreadful. But isn't that what family is about? Facing everything together, even something as gut-wrenching as this."

A nod, accompanied by a whimper, was all Arcturus received before the gryphon buried his head into the knight's chest, seeking solace and comfort. In that embrace, Krotos's defenses crumbled, and the emotions he had been suppressing flooded out. Tears streamed down his cheeks, staining Arcturus's vest with the weight of his sorrow.

"It will be alright." Arcturus murmured, his hand gently stroking Krotos's neck, though he struggled to maintain his own composure as the weight of their loss pressed heavily upon him. His vision blurred with unshed tears. "There, there."

For a few precious moments, they found solace in each other's presence, allowing their shared grief to offer some small measure of comfort. But as the tears dried and reality once again asserted itself, Krotos withdrew with a bitter laugh. "Sorry, so sorry. Look at me, whimpering away like a gryphet."

"There's no shame in it." Arcturus reassured him, sniffing and wiping his own eyes. "I'm going to miss him too. We just have to make sure we don't forget him."

"I'll make sure of that." Krotos chirped, his feathers fluffing up with determination. "I know it wasn't very long, but we resonated like the beating of my wings." He chuckled mournfully. "That stupid, hopeless human that wandered into the recruitment office... You should have seen him. Bastard tripped on me as he was turning in his application, spilled his morning coffee all over my feathers." With a sigh, Krotos managed a weak smile. "Oh, I yelled at him something awful. You'd think I'd have killed him. Took the whole blasted day to get clean."

"It must have been amusing when they placed you two together." Arcturus remarked, a hint of wistfulness in his tone.

"Oh, yes, a barrel of laughs." Krotos replied, though his feathers were ruffled with indignation. "Though I couldn't have been luckier." He gestured to his teal-tipped wing with a squawk of dismay. "Good gods, look at the state of me. I'm a positive wreck. It's going to take ages to be perfectly clean."

"Why not just ask Lyndis to clean it for you? I think she has a cantrip for that." Arcturus suggested.

"Please, Arc, that's cheating." Krotos protested, his ears splayed in mock offense. "Besides, a spell can't compare to the delicate ministrations of a beak."

Uncertainty gnawed at him, yet Arcturus chose not to delve further into the matter. As Krotos prepared to commence his meticulous grooming routine, the atmosphere shifted with the arrival of Shandalar. With an air of unwavering determination, she strode into the hold, her arms neatly folded behind her back, a silent yet commanding presence in the room.

"Krotos, a moment of your time, if you would." Shandalar's voice cut through the air like a blade. She approached with purpose, an apology on her lips. "Forgive my delayed words. The chaos of recent events has drawn my focus elsewhere." She began to rifle through her pockets, "It seems you left this behind at the castle. Fortunately, I was able to retrieve it amidst the turmoil."

Arcturus observed the exchange, a furrow forming on his brow. He hadn't pegged Shandalar as one to prioritize material possessions, especially at a time of emotional unrest.

With a raised wing and an irate squawk, Krotos attempted to dismiss the mage's offer. "I have no need for trinkets, especially ones snatched in haste. Leave me be, Shandalar."

Shandalar's response was swift, her resolve unyielding as she presented a severed, blood-soaked finger. "Your assessment is mistaken." she retorted. "I believe this may prove helpful."

A heavy silence enveloped them, each contemplating the gruesome offering. Arcturus, bewildered, was on the brink of questioning her motives when Krotos erupted in fury.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?" Squawked the catbird as he sprung forth to all fours. Feathers fluffed, ears pinned, it was as if he sought to set the air ablaze, "After everything we've been through tonight, after what happened...you think this is appropriate? Of all people, you? I never thought you'd stoop so low."

Shandalar remained unfazed by the outburst, allowing Krotos to vent his frustration. When he finally fell silent, panting from his tirade, she continued calmly. "Now that you've had your say, allow me to explain. This is Gus's finger. Asterion, though currently dormant, possesses the means to resurrect him using the stolen scroll. However, it's advisable to wait until he awakens. Waking a slumbering minotaur or dragon is ill-advised, to say the least."

"Wait..." Krotos's reaction caught Arcturus by surprise, his tirade abruptly halted. In an instant, the gryphon's demeanor shifted, softening like a gentle breeze after a storm. He reared up, enveloping Shandalar in a tight embrace, a radiant beam of gratitude illuminating his face like the dawn breaking through the night.

"Oh Shandy, you thought of me, I knew you cared!" Krotos's voice rang out, tears flowing freely down his beak.

Arcturus couldn't help but be swept up in the moment, a smile breaking across his face.

"I too have felt the sting of loss; it's a relentless specter that corrodes our resolve." Shandalar murmured, gently trying to extricate herself from Krotos's tight embrace. "Forgive me for not relieving this burden sooner."

"I regret every harsh word I uttered; you're a true friend!" Krotos exclaimed, bouncing on his hinds using his wings and tail for balance. "I could kiss you!"

“I must insist you refrain from such actions. Your appreciation has been duly noted."

"What did you promise him Shandalar? A moonlit rendezvous?" Lyndis quipped; her smile mischievous as she twirled a golden tiara around her finger.

“That there is your first mistake." Veledar clicked his tongue, “Once you give a gryphon an inch they take a mile. Trust me, he's been giving me the fuck me eyes this entire trip."

"It wasn't as you think." Krotos replied, his crest feathers standing tall with pride. "She simply brought me tidings of great joy." Another melodious chirp escaped his beak as he leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." He whispered fervently.

“It's understandable after such a dire night." Shandalar reassured, her touch tender against his cheek. "But now, if you've quite finished your emotional display, could you release me?"

Krotos laughed, returning the elf to the deck, “Apologies."

"There's no need. It's only natural for an untrained individual to react as you did. Though being hoisted wasn't in my plans, I'll keep it in mind for future encounters."

“And you have my thanks as well." Arcturus extended a hand, to which Shandalar clasped and shook. “Whenever you have need of us, say the word and we'll be there."

"Aye, count me in on that promise." Krotos chimed in.

"There's no need." Shandalar replied, withdrawing her hand and brushing off gryphon fur. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must confer with Striker on our next course of action. Enjoy the rest of your evening." With a nod, she departed.

"Imagine thinking you know someone." Krotos mused with a weak smile, wiping the last traces of moisture from his eye. "Then they go and pull something like that. No emotions, indeed! My feathery ass!"

"Well, at least you'll have good news to share with your family now." Arcturus chuckled, giving the gryphon a reassuring pat on the back, which was returned with a gentle head nuzzle.

** * * * * * * * *

Veledar lay sprawled within the hold, the events of the night searing his scales. Though his companions sought to placate him with treasures of great value—trinkets that might have once stirred his draconic pride—they did little to soothe the ache in his heart. How could they respect or admire him if his quest had ended in failure? The gnawing sensation in his gut twisted with every lingering thought of the Lumarians. Yes, the king was dead, but many more remained who had robbed him and escaped. Worse still, Nigel, that undead abomination, had known his name. The implications of that dark knowledge hinted at a far greater loss, one that cut deeper than any wound.

His breaths came deep and fractured, each intake flaring his nostrils as he struggled to temper the raging storm within. A tempest demanded he tear himself from the hold, gather his strength, and obliterate that wretched creature from existence. Yet he knew, with bitter resignation, that this vengeance would have to wait for another night.

Natassa had settled herself close by, admiring her reflection in a gem-studded mirror engraved with gryphon wings around the glass. Her previous fear from their first encounter seemed to have vanished completely. The witty-beaked bard, now full of confidence, had whispered promises of his debt to her for saving his life. She recounted the tale with much exaggeration, using her wings to describe every legendary display he had made; her feathers fluffed with satisfaction, and her ears perked in delight with every flourish. With each bat of her eyes or subtle wink the dragon dreaded her request, hoping that whatever it was, it would not be too devastating to his pride.

Humming to herself, Feku sorted gems and coins into meticulous piles, each piece a treasure in her eyes. She dangled each jewel before her snout, pressing it to her scales with reverence. She kissed the treasures, her lavender eyes gleaming with delight, emerald hues rippling down her grey form like waves on a stormy sea. With a satisfied tap of her tail, she set each piece into place, only to return to her hoard and begin the ritual anew.

"Crimson Sky, did you catch a word I said?" Lyndis snapped, waving a hand in front of the dragon's snout. She sat across from him, the pile of treasure between them glittering eerily in the mana lantern's light.

Veledar blinked, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her. "I heard you, Lyndis." he rumbled, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement, trying to not reveal the tattered mess within. "But you must understand, the allure of treasure is a siren's call to a dragon." He flicked a coin with a claw, watching it spin. "Now, what was it you were saying that could possibly compete with this?"

"Mind always on treasure." Lyndis sighed, “should I let you two get a room?" Her eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, any thoughts on where your stash is headed next big guy?" She lifted a dragon-shaped comb, its eyes glittering garnets. "I mean, who needs a comb with gemstones, right?"

“My mind isn't always on treasure." He growled playfully at her display, adding a thump of the tail for added effect. “But if you must know, I was dwelling on the night's heroics, performed by an exceptional dragon, myself." He fluffed his wings in a regal fashion, holding his head high, “I do believe you were satisfied with the display of draconic might?"

"Aw, look who's the hero now." Lyndis quipped, "Just don't start puffing up too much. Nobody's fond of a show-off, you know."

"I don't believe that's true." Veledar mused; giving her a knowing look, he added with a low growl, "Smirk all you want, princess, but I saw the looks on all your faces—relief that I delivered you to safety."

Her arms crossed in defiance as he drew closer, till his snout wavered just about her nose.

“Nothing so say?" He cooed, ruffling her hair with an affectionate chuff, “See? Words fail you in the presence of such a noble, virtuous and humble beast that I am."

“Well, well, aren't we the grand charmer today." Natassa purred with a grin, "Though humble darling? I think you might be stretching it a bit. Lyndis dear, don't play into his ego, you'll only encourage it further, best nip it in the haunches now."

“Don't have to tell me twice." Scoffed Lyndis, prodding the dragon's nose, “But yes, we all are glad the great bloomin crimson hero came flappin his mighty wings. Ya happy?"

The reward to her came in the shape of a tooth filled grin and a satisfied snort, “Very."

Rolling her eyes at his comment, Lyndis quipped, "Look, if you're not gonna check out the treasure here, I might start thinking you're turning all charitable on us." She shot him a mischievous grin. "Which, I gotta say, Arcturus' influence seems to be working wonders on ya. Kinda tickles my fancy."

He growled playfully to shut down that train of thought. “Let's not get carried away. As your oh-so-glorious leader, it's my job to decide who gets what of this loot, right? After all, you do work for me." When she raised an eyebrow, he grinned back at her.

The princess mockingly gasped, then bowed low before the crimson dragon. As she straightened up, a smirk played on her lips. “I had nearly forgotten your magnanimous greatness, my benevolent overlord. Might I ask that your humble servant assist in distributing treasures to your loyal minions?"

"Of course, my dear princess." he played along, waving a paw dismissively at her theatrics. "Let it be known across the lands that I am a benevolent dragon, whose name shall echo far and wide."

“How great of you."

"Indeed." Veledar rumbled, his chest swelling with pride, though he knew it was all pretenses. "I suppose you all deserve some reward after facing tonight's perils. You did put in quite the effort."

Again, she gave a bow, “Let me pass on the other's gratitude, we love you."

"Lyndis, sweetheart, remember what I told you?" Natassa sighed in exasperation. "Give a dragon a coin and they'll expect a hoard."

"I concur with Miss Vanity here." he gestured towards the gryphoness who was now trying on several golden bangles around her paws, "You're laying it on a bit too thick."

Lyndis chuckled sarcastically, "Oh really? Maybe I should compose a ballad next, with you as the star. How about we line up to kiss your paws while we're at it?"

Veledar tilted his head with mock seriousness, "If you're offering such adoration, who am I to refuse? Though I fear your little Viridian companion might get a tad jealous."

She rolled her eyes, pushing piles of treasure towards Veledar, trying to redirect the conversation. "Enough with the ego stroking. Your head's already big enough as it is."

"Careful now." He teased with a chomp of his jaws, "I might just take a nip."

“Oi, threaten to bite me and you'll be getting a swift dagger where the sun don't shine." She brandished her blade to the dragon's growly rumble, “I'm serious mister."

“Really Lyndis, a dagger and threat to stab up his slit?" Natassa ruffled her feathers in amusement. “As entertaining as that would be, I think we all prefer our dragon friends without extra ventilation, don't we?"

“And how would you handle him eh?"

The gryphon smirked, smacking her hands against one another, “Cold splash of water and a rolled-up scroll to the snout."

As the girl's shrieked in laughter over this mental image of him, Veledar thumped his tail against the deck, “I am not some dog to be scolded!"

"Of course." Natassa retorted, a playful glint in her eye. "You're not just any dog. You're a majestic, fire-breathing diva who loves a good scratch behind the ears."

"Perhaps that makes him more of a cat." Lyndis chuckled.

"I am neither." Veledar growled, his patience wearing thin with the banter.

"Exactly! He dragon, not cat!" Feku interjected with a fierce growl, hands on her hips and eyes ablaze. "Get right, singy birdy!"

"Ah, behold, a loyal minion defending my honor." Veledar remarked with a playful pat on Feku's head, eliciting a chorus of trills and gasps from the kobold. He rolled his eyes at her exuberance and gently pushed her away with a wing. "And what about you, Natassa? Don't you enjoy a good scratch behind the ear as well?"

Natassa's beak clamped shut, her ears flattened against her head. She returned to inspecting a platinum coin, her feathers ruffling subtly. “Go back to your treasure, leave me be."

Victory, the dragon stretched out amongst the treasure, eyes traveling to the various coins, gems, items of gilded interest that practically made his maw water. Thrusting his snout down he inspected it all, mind abuzz at the inherent value, knowing it would be quite the loss for Lumara indeed, the bittersweet platinum lining of the eve.

Lyndis had already designated several items for distribution among the group. She claimed a rapier that purportedly danced through the air at her command, a weapon perfectly suited to her agile prowess. Feku requested her bardic instrument along with a pile of rubies. He allowed her the instrument, but even her most persuasive pleas failed to sway Veledar's resolve to keep the gems for himself. Shandalar and Asterion declined any rewards, he questioned their sanity but was more than happy to claim their treasures for himself.

"And lastly, for Arcturus." Lyndis declared, placing a sturdy belt before the dragon. The belt was adorned with intricate dwarven runes, meticulously etched into the dark leather. "Belt of Dwarvenkind." she announced, tapping it with a grin. "This will toughen you up, making poisons hardly a concern."

"Sounds like it's fit for royalty, wouldn't you say?" Veledar suggested with a gleam in his eye. "Why not claim it for yourself?"

Lyndis stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Blasted thing makes you grow a beard. Can you imagine me with one?"

The dragon chuckled heartily at the mental image of Lyndis sporting a big, bushy beard.

"Oi, stop that!" she exclaimed, moving to swat at his nose, but he playfully pulled his snout out of reach.

“Now, Lyndis." Veledar said with a toothy grin, gesturing to the array of treasures before him, "your suggestions, while thoughtful, overlooked one crucial detail."

"Yeah? And what might that be?"

"You see." Veledar began, his voice filled with amusement, "as the leader, it falls upon me to determine who receives what."

Lyndis crossed her arms defiantly. "Oh, really? And who gets what, then? I did put a lot of thought into it."

He took a moment to let it all sink in, his gaze lingering appreciatively on each item. Finally, he straightened, rolling a paw with a sigh, "You seem to have a knack for understanding my preferences, Lyndis. That's why you have my favor."

As she chuckled at her success, the dragon's keen eyes caught sight of Arcturus and Krotos slipping away, a tinge of sadness evident in their demeanor. Veledar lingered on Arcturus, contemplating the possible reasons for his troubled state. Had the death of the king and the success of their mission not brought relief?  His tail flicked thoughtfully, betraying his curiosity. If there was something left unspoken that would need addressing later.

“Though you made one mistake." He nudged the belt with his snout. “The belt."

“Pff, no I didn't." she countered, crossing her arms defiantly. “You're just saying that because I was right."

“No." He rolled his eyes and thumped his paws. “Come now, Lyndis, he's my greatest treasure. Treasure cannot own treasure."

There was a moment of silence as she took in this new information. She replied with a dull tone, “You got to be bloody kidding me, so Arcturus gets nothing?"

“Makes sense." Feku said, admiring herself in a sapphire, “Dragon is greatest treasure could ask for, what else metal man need?"

“See, she gets it."

She squeezed the bridge of her nose like Arcturus, “Oh Arcturus what have you gotten yourself into?"

For a moment the thought occurred to him, was he wrong on the matter? Focusing on Arcturus' emotions brought forth trickles of sadness, regret, guilt. Veledar sighed, plucking up the belt and plopping it into her hands. “Perhaps I will make an exception. Treasure always has the effect of raising my spirits, I suppose Arcturus should have a chance for that."

“How delightful that you can be made to see reason."

“And do tell him it was my idea." He added, resting his gaze on where the pair departed “Think he could use a bit of cheering up."

“He's not feeling well?" Lyndis looked to where he'd departed, cocking her head, “I didn't notice anything…Strange." She gathered up the choice stack of coins, tossing them into a bag of holding along with the belt of dwarven kind.

When she inquired if he intended to accompany her, he politely declined with a grunt. If Arcturus desired his company, he would have sought it out already. The dragon presumed the human required solitude, but when he was ready, he would be ready to embrace him tightly within his paws.

“Suit yourself." Shrugged Lyndis, standing tall and stretching her neck, “Which all this treasure talk reminded me, how did getting the ole book back?" She gestured to his harness and it's multitude of pouches, “Bet it itches the scales, don't it?"

"My apologies, Lyndis." Veledar replied with a solemn air, his thoughts plagued with lavender, hungry flames. "A story for another day, perhaps. But know this—it brings solace to my heart knowing they will never gaze upon it again."

“You know, though daft when I originally heard it, I always was routing on ya." She laid a hand on his scales, eyes honestly meeting his. As his chin lowered, she caressed his chin, “With all the shite we had to endure? I'm glad your story had a happy ending."

Well intentioned, but the words were still daggers plunged through his scales. A thump of the tail and he cleared his throat, averting his gaze, “Was that ever in doubt? Look who you're speaking with Lyndis."

“Now down dragon, we don't need you getting too sweet on me." She countered with a gentle grin, “But when you're feeling like sharing, wouldn't mind taking a gander at the book we worked so hard to get."

“Course." He replied sheepishly, fluttering his frills.

“Veledar." Her voice lowered as she laid a hand on his cheek, honest eyes meeting his. “I'm happy for you, glad that you lived up to the legend you wished to build."

If only she knew the legend in which he was building was one of failure. The dragon snorted, playing up his pride with a raise of the head. “Your praise is always welcome; your abilities were well- “

“Which, leads me to my next point actually." A glint of cunning crossed her gaze.

“And what would that be?" He sighed, sensing another favor coming along, “If you're going to ask something of my like Natassa, do try and not rob me."

“I don't want to rob ya you bastard, I want ya to consider roaming around with us for good." She gave a wave as if surveying the countryside, “You and us, meeting quests left right and center, seeing fantastical sights, meeting new folks and spreading that legend of yours."

“You just wish the strength, power and prestige of having a dragon like me along." He chuckled, rolling a paw to his chest. “Having me sign up for your rag tag group like some sort of minion to play second fiddle?" A harsh snort and shake of the head came, “That simply won't do."

“Well, that's the best part your thickness." She leaned up against him, tapping his scales, “You can be the bloody leader if you want. Lot of us can go prancing around, Crimson Sky's Crew and all that." She winced, “Alright, maybe not that, but we'll think of something."

That was really the question wasn't it, had he enjoyed all the time together with Arcturus and the others. For a moment he paused, thinking back to where this all began, back upon the mountainside of Deet. Deep down he'd always envisioned destiny falling upon his paws, pulling him into some grand adventure. Did he truly want that to continue, leaving the normality of his home for sleeping under the stars, facing monsters, all for the sake of his legend and treasure?

“See, you're thinking it over. You're going to do it." She declared, holding her nose high, eyes closed as if she'd already won.

“I have not yet decided that." Protested Veledar, nudging the smug princess with his snout.

“Yea right, I can see it in the way your tail twitched. You're interested."

Had it? He scowled at the mischievous scaled tail; it was always getting him into trouble. “Very well, you are indeed correct, I'll admit, the others were not…dislikable completely."

Her face lit up at such a success, even despite the harsh snort that ruffled her hair. “You won't regret it one bit- “

With each subsequent breath, Veledar began to entertain the notion, envisioning countless mortals chanting his name. Some showered him with flowers, while others sang hymns of his mighty feats; Arcturus stood steadfast beside him, goading the crowds on. "I can envision it vividly." he proclaimed, a smile creeping across his face as he lifted his head proudly. "Throughout the land, tales of Crimson's Crew will echo, recounting our epic, heroic exploits. They will paint a portrait of Crimson Sky, the dragon of unparalleled allure and grace."

“Well, I didn- “

Thumping his paw, he cut her off, “They will sing songs of us all, name their whelps after us, every soul shall hear of us for all time."

Lyndis sighed with a roll of her eyes, “Good lords what have I unleashed."

“You've unleashed this world's next great legend." He teased, running his nose against hers.

“That's what I was afraid of." She poked his scales as he gave a growly laugh, “Though another favor I need to ask of you."

“Another one?" He gave a mock gasp, pulling back. “How many is it going to be?"

She hesitated for a moment, choosing her next few words carefully before heaving a great sigh, “I would like for us to find Radiant Star, bring him along."

The green prat of a dragon, son of Emerald Lady? Veledar snorted and tossed his head at the mere thought.

“Now I know you hate the idea-"

"I don't hate him." he interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Is his presence annoying? Yes. Does the thought of him prancing around grating on the soul? Also, yes." He paused, catching a glint in her eye like the one he saw with Arcturus. "Am I not enough to satisfy your dragon needs? I thought I was the best."

"Of course you are." she replied, tracing his snout with her finger. "But how can you be the best without a little competition?"

There was that sly grin again, an attempt to manipulate him, stoking the competitive fire between himself and the green dragon. Could he stand in the way of Lyndis's intentions? He grumbled, unwilling to concede so easily, preferring to make the rogue work for it. "But Lyndis, when looking upon this group of mines, there might be misunderstandings about who the leader is."

"That sounds like concern over your reputation." she teased, tracing a finger along his cheek. "Here I thought it was obvious to all that you are the superior dragon, beyond contest."

She was adept at this game. "I know your tactics, Lyndis." he replied with a smirk, drawing a wing around her. "But you're right. If you wish, we can fetch that green fool."

Emotion overwhelmed her as she cheered, then kissed him right upon the nose. “Oh, you cheeky bastard I love you."

“Oh, good lords, Lyndis is being seduced by the dragon now." Merlia remarked, cheeks red as Veledar's scales, “Mark me words dragon, me legs be tighter closed than the greatest vaults in the Foggy Mountains!"

The dragon allowed Lyndis to praise his scales, indulging in a few more compliments that pleased him immensely. Normally, he might have reminded her that she lacked permission to touch him, but as her fingers caressed his cheeks, such thoughts slipped away. His eyes closed in delight, emitting gentle warbles from deep within. Perhaps losing his book hadn't been entirely in vain; maybe the bonds forged with these mortals could be considered a worthy consolation.

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