Chapter 51

Arcturus stirred from his slumber with a soft exhale, finding solace in the comforting warmth enveloping him. Veledar’s forepaw held him securely against a scaled chest. Only months ago, the notion of such intimacy with a dragon would have been unfathomable to him. Yet now, he felt a flutter of contentment deep within, doubting there were safer places in this world than to be within this crimson fortress of scales.

Amidst this tranquil embrace, duty and hunger tugged at him like relentless predators. His stomach, a growling reminder akin to a pack of hungry wolves, demanded attention, pulling him reluctantly from Veledar’s side. With a resigned groan, he extricated himself from the dragon’s grasp, a temporary separation from the sanctuary he cherished.

The crisp morning air wrapped around Arcturus like cruel mistress, urging him to retreat to the comforting embrace of his beloved dragon. He stole a glance back at Veledar, sprawled across the bed in majestic repose, his crimson scales catching the soft light. Even in slumber, the dragon exuded a satisfaction that seemed to acknowledge the allure of his own warmth and strength. Arcturus shook his head firmly, pushing aside the temptation, reminding himself sternly of his duties.

He dressed swiftly, each movement a deliberate act to prepare for the day ahead. As he pulled on his trousers, thoughts of waking Veledar flickered briefly, only to be dismissed. Let the dragon rest, he thought. Today would bring travel and challenges that would likely leave Veledar in sour spirits, especially since he would have to assume a less imposing form for their journey. Securing his belt with a sigh, Arcturus left the chamber behind, stepping into the hushed corridors of the estate.

Reaching the staircase, Arcturus gripped the polished mahogany railing tightly, each creak of the aged oak step beneath his boot echoing through the silent halls. Memories flooded back of his nanny, Hera, her feathers enfolding him in comfort amidst the screeching debates with his father over fixing the damned squeak.

                But they never did of course. His father was always too busy drilling how to kill dragons into his head or swanning off to go slay them on his own. Arcturus scowled as his thoughts lingered on the man longer than he would have liked. Months at a time he’d be left within these halls, the only comfort his friends, Reginald, Hera and his tomes on dragons that kept him company.

Arcturus stood before a portrait of his father, a stern figure with black hair, grizzled beard, and icy eyes that seemed to judge him even from the painted canvas. He could almost hear the scathing remarks, the accusations of dishonor and disgrace that would have spilled from his father's lips if he knew of Arcturus's affection for their family's greatest adversary. The thought of his father grabbing a lance to skewer Veledar right then and there made Arcturus scoff as he passed by, running a hand through his hair and laughing at the absurdity of it all. Oh, how he would have relished seeing the expression on his father's face at such a revelation. Alas, fate had robbed him of such a fate.

What an enemy he was, Arcturus found himself whistling, picturing the dragon’s paws embracing him once more. There he could dwell in utter bliss, swirling around the emotions being shared between the two. His breath upon his bare flesh, sensual and tantalizing, it felt so right to be there. To be held against his firm scales, listening to his heartbeat, it made him feel complete, filling a void that had been ever present within his heart. Veledar was the perfect rock in which to cling, as all facets of his old life washed away.

As Arcturus entered the kitchen, he was greeted by a symphony of aromas: freshly baked bread, sizzling bacon, and sweet pastries wafted through the air, mingling in a tantalizing blend. Amidst the bustling activity, Reginald was already at work, whisking eggs into a frothy mixture with practiced ease. He acknowledged Arcturus with a morning nod before turning his attention to a tray of bacon on the stove, ensuring each slice achieved the perfect level of crispiness. Nearby, a pot of oatmeal bubbled gently, its rich scent mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries cooling on a nearby rack.

Reginald wasn't alone in his culinary domain; at his side stood Thaddeus, a blue and green gryphon with the lower body of a mountain lion, clad in a chef's apron adorned with various stains from years of shared cooking adventures. Humming a cheerful morning tune, Thaddeus expertly sliced through fresh fruits with a sharp knife, arranging them meticulously on a gleaming silver tray. With a swish of his lion tuft tail, he padded his way to some sausages sizzling in a pan.

“There he is, the dragon rider.” Thaddeus grinned mischievously as he expertly pressed down on the sizzling meat, "Reginald's been filling me in on your escapades, your merry band, and that dragon of yours. Enjoy yourself last night?"

“Thaddeus.” Reginald interjected with an indignant squawk, “The master’s business is his own. Any stories about his vigorous, fiery lovemaking will have to be left to gossip.”
"Oh, but Reginald." Thaddeus interjected, his tone light yet insistent, mischief dancing in his eyes. Leaning closer to Arcturus, he spoke in a whisper, "You know how I savor the spicy details. A morsel, perhaps? Just a hint to quench my curiosity? What does his lance look like? Don't give me that look—we're toiling over breakfast for your sake, after all."

Arcturus averted his gaze, recalling how those mischievous eyes had often lured him into divulging more than he intended. "That trick may have swayed me in my youth, Thaddeus." he retorted, his tone playful yet firm, "but you'll find me quite resilient now. The details of my Umraadi's lance will have to remain fodder for your vivid imagination."

He made his way over to a freshly brewed pot of tea, guided by the gentle gesture of Reginald's wing.

Thaddeus sighed dramatically, his feathers rustling slightly as he shook his head with mock disappointment. "Oh, Arcturus, why does it not surprise me that you take after your father? He was never one to kiss and tell either." With careful steps, the gryphon padded over to Arcturus, enveloping him in a hug that almost caused tea to spill over his feathers.

“Watch the tea, you’re going to spill it all over yourself!”

"Oh, pish posh, you'll find my grace has not waned in the intervening years." Thaddeus sighed, his lion-like tail flicking with a regal air. "Besides, did you think you could come here and not give ole Thaddeus a hug? Please, you'll never escape my feathers." The gryphon rumbled affectionately, pressing his warm muzzle against Arcturus' face. "Though beyond that, it's good to see you safe and sound, sir, even if it lacks the thrilling, passionate escapades of a knight and his dazzling dragon love."

He couldn’t help but sigh, nuzzling back, “Likewise.”

"Until then, I suppose I'll have to content myself with my own imagination. Which, I must say, Arcturus, you naughty thing, you'll spoil that dragon." Thaddeus quipped with a mischievous beak smirk. "No wonder he adores you."

"Dearest, could you remove yourself from Arcturus? You're going to get his tea all over your feathers." Reginald sighed, starting to spoon out eggs into a pan. "You’ll be in need of exceptional preening..."

"Like I've ever heard you complain." teased Thaddeus with a wink. "Resting by the fire, your beak gliding over one like little love notes to my soul, whispering sweet poems into my ear. We both know where that will lead." The gryphon let out a whimsical sigh, his voice tinged with longing, as he gently swayed his haunches. "What a way to spend an evening. Perhaps I should sully my feathers."

"Thaddeus," Reginald replied with an indignant squawk, "while the prospect of spending hours preening your feathers is undoubtedly charming, I would prefer it not be precipitated by a kitchen catastrophe. Your feathers are delicate enough as it is, no need for extra seasoning, I assure you."”

Arcturus deftly slipped from Thaddeus’ grasp, his fingers finding a pressure point beneath the gryphon’s shoulder with practiced precision, ensuring not a single drop of tea was spilled.  "Truly, I appreciate the breakfast, though you needn't fuss over us. Our stay shall be brief." He gestured over his shoulder, "In fact, we should be departing today."

Thaddeus let out a squawk of protest, his feathers ruffling in dismay. "No, it cannot be so." he exclaimed. "You arrive but briefly, only to depart again. Say it isn't true!"

"You would've had more time with the master if you'd joined me last night." Reginald quipped dryly. "Next time, focus less on your beauty rest."

"Some of us need our beauty sleep." Thaddeus retorted, puffing up his chest defensively.

"Why do you insist on saying such foolish things, Thaddeus?" Reginald shot back, rolling his eyes. "We both know even with the slightest rest; your feathers outshine all others in the realm."

Thaddeus trilled happily, bounding back to his husband with playful warbles and affectionate nuzzles. "You always know just what to say, feather butt."

"Of course, darling. How else could I win your heart?" Reginald teased, leaning into Thaddeus's touch.

Thaddeus chuckled, running a talon along Reginald's beak. "I can think of a few ways—"

Arcturus rubbed the back of his neck as one of the pots had started to bubble, threatening to run over. “Hate to interrupt but- “

"I knew it! Trying to sabotage my cooking with your seduction tactics!" Reginald shrieked, rushing to correct the problem. "Are you that desperate to outdo my culinary skills?"

"We all know Master Arcturus preferred my cooking, anyway, isn't that right?" Thaddeus cocked his head, ears perked.

The knight deftly changed the subject, gesturing toward the dining hall. "Why not ask Feku to help? I'm sure she'd appreciate it and could lend a hand."

Reginald sighed heavily, his ears flattening against his head. "It won't work, I'm afraid. One might think it impossible to create a greater mess of tea and jam, but Feku has a talent for defying expectations." He gestured towards a lavender spot of jam clinging to the ceiling. "Had to remove her before the entire estate came down."

"And don't forget poor Lyndis." Thaddeus chimed in with a chuckle, mimicking the action of hitting someone with a spoon. "Dearest got her with a spoon.”

"Oh, good lord." Arcturus groaned, shaking his head in exasperation.

“A well-deserved reward, sir." Reginald continued, stirring the oatmeal and taking a whiff with a pleased chirp. "Her skills in the culinary arts might suit a roadside inn or a traveling camp, but not here." He flourished a spoon with an amused chuckle. "Should have heard her scathing remarks… Perhaps I should consider a career in adventuring."

"But then who would be here to take care of me?" Thaddeus quipped, affectionately kissing his husband's beak, his crown feathers ruffling playfully. "Arcturus, you might want to make your exit before Reginald starts blaming you for mishaps too."

He’d seen this tale unfold too many times before; the knight needed no reminder. With his gratitude expressed, he swiftly departed, only to hear Thaddeus calling after him, urging him to thank Shandalar. Without her conjuring, they wouldn’t have nearly enough food for all of them.

Arcturus hurriedly left the bustling kitchens, a wry smile lingering on his lips. Some things, it seemed, never changed. As he strode onward, amusement gradually gave way to purpose, his mind consumed by the impending quest. Yet Veledar's revelation from the previous evening gnawed at him. It wasn't just about the lost book; it was the revelation that Nigel had been the one to slay his mother. Platitudes felt hollow in the face of such revelations, especially when considering the darkness inflicted by that undead monstrosity. Lost in these troubling thoughts, he collided with Feku.

"Hey, watch where go." The bard hissed, slamming onto the floor.

“Apologies.” Arcturus extended a hand, helping the kobold stand as flashes of red crackled about her grey scales.  As she dusted herself off, he pondered on why she was lingering about, “If you’re waiting for Reginald to reverse on his course of action, you’re going to be woefully disappointed.”

“You no know.” She protested, arms crossing.

“Be the first time since I’ve known him.” Arcturus replied, gesturing down the hall toward the dining hall. When she refused with a swish of her tail, he sighed. "Is Lyndis this way? Heard she's nursing quite the wound."

Feku nodded, her gaze sharp, lingering on the kitchen. "Heard speak of dragon." she said, her scales shifting into a smattering of lavender. "Certain dragon part."

“That was Thaddeus.”

Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. "So... what it look? Dragon lance." Her voice practically rumbled with lust; her scales suffused with lavender. "How do feel to-"

A sigh escaped him. "I didn’t tell Thaddeus, what makes you think I’d tell you?"

"Cause we same! Share interests!" Feku hurried to keep up as he strode down the hall.

"How is that? For the record, I don’t know how to play the violin."

"Not that!" She tossed her head with a hiss. "Of dragon! Now tell Feku." The demand came with a growl, only to elicit another sigh from the paladin.

"How about you just go ask our resplendent dragon yourself? I’m sure he’ll show you with all that pride and glory of his. He’ll probably like all the adoration."

Feku halted abruptly, her limbs locking up as if she had turned to stone. "You serious?" she asked. "You can’t be."

"Sadly, I think I am." He squeezed the bridge of his nose, already picturing the dragon chuckling in amusement. It would probably only encourage such behavior in the future. "How about this, I ask him for you, see what he says."

"Okay!" She trilled with excitement. "Oh, I can’t wait! I know what say. Dragon…show lance!"

“You might want more tact than that.”

She wrinkled her snout, caressing her chin, “Please let me see cock.”

Arcturus could only sigh and squeeze the bridge of his nose, this was evidently going to take a while.

Together they crossed the threshold into the vast dining hall. The air carried the subtle fragrance of polished wood and beeswax, suffused with the gentle warmth of morning light streaming through large, arched windows adorning the stone walls. Tapestries depicting heroic dragon hunts and noble exploits adorned the walls, their intricate scenes capturing the essence of valor and triumph.

The hall itself was a testament to both grandeur and practicality, designed to accommodate the gryphons and the gatherings of the noble household. Supported by sturdy wooden beams, the high ceilings reverberated with a faint echo of history, where once banners of his family’s heraldry used to hang but now lay folded away. However, amidst the grandeur, Lyndis sat comfortably at the long oak table, boots upon the table her legs crossed. A mug of steaming coffee rested in her hand, its rich aroma mingling with the scent of fresh flowers arranged in vases along the table

Before her lay a map of Sethera, Lumara specifically. Lyndis' eyes glinted mischievously as she glanced from the map to Arcturus and let out an amused laugh. "There you are sunshine. Thought you'd taken after the dragon and decided to slumber the day away."

He padded over and settled into a seat beside her. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," she sighed. "Just the morning spell prep. Merlia's up on the roof with bird brain, keeping watch for patrols, and Asterion? He's outside somewhere practicing. I'm not his babysitter. Just glad to see you up with a smile."

“We’ll see how long it holds. Had a rough night after all.” He gave a weak laugh.

“Oh, come on, no tease Feku!” The kobold wailed as she clambered onto a seat that was far too large for her.

Lyndis traced her fingers along the line they had drawn across the map, following the route all the way to Rothdell.

"Thought we already had our route set?" Arcturus took a sip of his tea, the hints of honey and nutmeg danced across his tongue.

"Yeah, but I'm thinking about which one of my friends we might meet along the way. It’s always best for a girl to be prepared."

He winced, recalling her friends in Drakenburg. "I've seen your version of friendship, not always the warmest of welcomes, is it?"

"Well, that happens when you steal from them, Arc." she sighed. "Though you might like a few of them."

“Just make sure they don’t try to kill us.”

“Oh, they can’t do that.” She dismissed him with a wave, sipping her coffee, “We have a dragon. Speaking of, where is red and shiny? I swear if he’s out flying about with his dick hanging out, blowing our cover, I’ll literally kill him.”

Feku gasped, “Like hells you will!”

Lyndis rolled her eyes, “Figure of speech darling, don’t get your scales in a twist.” She gave Arcturus an exasperated sigh, “Just tell me good news Arc.”

He took a sip of tea, letting the moment sit, anticipation building and dread building with each passing moment.

“Arc!”

“He’s sleeping up there like a baby, all pleased with himself.”

“Pleased with himself?” She chortled and pulled back, “Oh I get ya, tuckered the old dragon out. Arcturus I’m sure when your family was teaching you, they didn’t mean lay the dragon. When you going to wake sleeping beauty, we will need to shove off before too long.”

“At the last possible moment, figure let him get his beauty sleep while the rest of us get ready. How’s the spoon wound?” A wry smirk graced his lips.

She sighed, giving him a playful shove, “Not going to let me live that down, are ya? Gryphon bastard gets lucky with one spoon, and they think he’s so clever.”

“Sneak attack!” Feku exclaimed, clacking her claws together.

“Yes.” Lyndis replied flatly, “Won’t happen again, you can bet your tail on that.”

For a while, Arcturus and Lyndis debated the best routes to minimize their visibility, arguing over paths and the merits of sightseeing through Lumara. Lyndis argued for enjoyment amidst their mission, while Arcturus countered with duty, caution, and the heightened risk of being caught on detours. Their discussion soon shifted into a debate over the finer points of pegasus riding just as Merlia and Krotos strolled in, fully equipped and eager to depart.

"So, did ya babies have a good nap?" Merlia asked with a hint of sarcasm, pulling out a chair and plopping herself down with a sigh. "By Thor’s bum, what kind of adventurers do ya call yourselves?"

"Those that like to sleep, clearly." Lyndis remarked, gesturing towards the mud slathered all over the dwarf’s boots. "The gryphons are going to have you punished for that."

"Like to see the feathered lads try." Merlia belted a laugh. "Besides, what do ya think they'd do to a bad thing like me, eh?"

“Probably tie you up or pin you down.” Krotos sat upon his hinds, resting his hands upon the table, he flashed a salacious smirk, “Probably punish you good.”

“Oh, sounds like a fun time.” Merlia cooed, running a hand along the underside of Krotos’ beak.

“Take it someone is keeping watch?” Lyndis rose a brow, “Unless you somehow made duplicates of yourself up there?”

“Nah, ole Asterion is filling in for us.” Merlia crossed her arms with a nod, “No sign of gryphons for miles, or airships for that matter.” She leaned back with a soft sigh, “Looks like we be in the clear.”

“Unless they’re perhaps invisible.” Krotos tilted his head, scratching his chin, “Or camouflaged, or ways to conceal their smell, footprints and sound- “

"Oi, what he's tryin' to say is we're good." Merlia interjected, cutting Krotos off. "Been up since crack o' dawn, keepin' watch. So, no need t'get your knickers in a knot. Though mind the sun-elf, nearly made Krotos jump outta his feathers!"

"Thought she was a ghost." Krotos' ears splayed.

"She was just wearing face cream, Krotos." Merlia rolled her eyes.

"Well, she looked like a ghost." he protested with a chirp.

 “Bird leaps up, takes out a painting, squawking and gasping a terrible fright.”

"I had to spend an hour preening since I was so disorganized." Krotos grumbled, gesturing to his ruffled feathers. "The painting seemed fine, though. No damage done... I hope."

Arcturus squeezed the bridge of his nose, pondering how he would explain the mud-covered dwarf and the potentially damaged painting to poor Reginald. At that moment, Reginald and Thaddeus entered, pushing twin silver trays before them with feathers puffed in pride. The trays bore a smorgasbord of carefully crafted delights: eggs, pancakes, sausages, and bacon, each dish a testament to culinary perfection. Freshly gathered fruits adorned the trays, their glistening surfaces begging to be eaten.

"Alright everyone, breakfast is served. Please take your seats." Reginald announced with a squawk. "I know it's modest fare, but it's what we could manage on short notice." The gryphon began to set out silverware for them.

“Short notice?" Krotos exclaimed as a bowl was placed before him, steam rising temptingly. "You clearly have magical hands."

"Oh, the best." Thaddeus chimed in, wiggling his fingers playfully.

"I see." mused Krotos with a glint in his eye. "I'd love to see those hands in action."

“Is that so?” A salacious smirk crossed his beak, feathers fluffing up.

"Now, now, Thaddeus." Reginald interjected, handing Feku her plate as she discreetly stuffed silverware into her pockets. His gaze sharpened. "Feku dear, those utensils are for eating, not collecting."

"I'm not stealing!" Feku protested with a laugh, holding up the silverware. "Just picking up what I dropped!"

“Indeed.” His reply came sharply as he passed, tail flicking, a dangerous threat. “Feku dearest, if I find any of my silverware missing, I shall hunt you down is that clear?”

She crossed her arms, reds blossoming about her scales.

Arcturus could only chuckle as each of them was tending to, accompanied by a few choice remarks. It was like he’d never left these halls. When it was his turn, the smile upon him was dashed away and replaced with a blush.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Thaddeus chuckled, planting himself behind Arcturus and filling his beak with hair.

“Hey, I don’t need a preening!” Arcturus protested, trying to bat Thaddeus's away, only to meet with a clack of sharp beak against his hand.

"Nonsense! Just look at you lot. I can't have our Arcturus wandering about with hair like that." Thaddeus squawked in mock exasperation. "The only one of you even remotely presentable is that fine chunk of gryphon over there."

Krotos’ crown feathers rose as a trill left his beak, “Not that bad looking yourself. How about we all play a game of who has the prettiest feathers later, I promise not to be biased.” He added a wink, only to get a dwarf elbow to the side.

“We’re leaving later ya dirty bird, think with your head instead of your dick!”

“That’s funny.” His eyes hooded in amusement, “You weren’t complaining earlier when I-“His beak was pressed shut, but it didn’t stop the laughter that came, muffled though it was.

That, however, was not enough to distract Thaddeus from the lingering question, so he asked of it again.

“The what?” Arcturus laughed, trying desperately to avoid the question, but the eyes of his friends lingered upon him, Merlia was having none of it.

"Hey, you heard the birdie! When's the big day?" She chuckled, stabbing her fork into a stack of pancakes. Swallowing a bite, she gestured with a mouthful of food towards Krotos. "Is our fine feathered friend here gonna be your best man?"

Blue and grey feathers ruffled as the gryphon in question puffed out his chest. Teal tipped crown feathers rose one by one as he rolled a hand to his chest, “I would naturally be a great choice.” He chirped, “My plumage is quite fetching, as Thaddeus over there can confirm.”

“Well, Merlia we’re not...” Arcturus began, his cheeks practically searing.

"Ach, hold yer horses now!" the dwarf interrupted with a playful wag of her finger. "Dinnae ruin it fer me, laddie. I can see it clear as day." Her hands waved dramatically towards Arcturus. "You all dolled up in a fancy suit, maybe a red shirt... for yer dragon." Merlia glanced upward, pointing towards the ceiling. "That dragon o' yers, scales all sparkling in the sunlight. His tail swishin' side to side as ya whisper sweet nothings, staring' all gooey-eyed." She grinned broadly, letting out another sigh. "Then he leans in, and you two exchange such sweet, lovin' words that ye cannot help but kiss, tears in your eyes... YOU TWO ARE JUST ADORABLE!" Merlia nudged him teasingly. "Ya owe me for this one lad."

"Such a shame that Skywing and you drifted apart sir." Reginald lamented softly as he passed out teacups, filling them methodically. "You and the missus were practically inseparable, stitched at the hip some might say." The gryphon sighed wistfully, a hint of sorrow in his voice. "A terrible shame."

The jovial atmosphere of joy and laughter evaporated, replaced by a somber weight in Arcturus's chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's... complicated at the moment. He and I..." Arcturus struggled to find the words.

“Are on opposing sides." Lyndis interjected bluntly; her fork laden with food halfway to her mouth. "That bastard captured me once."

"He deserves a swift kick right in the eggs!" Merlia slammed her fist on the table indignantly.

“Don’t worry I did.”

Reginald's ears drooped slightly, a look of disappointment crossing his avian features. "Ah, what a shame. I always considered him part of the family."

It was hard to disagree with the gryphon, words failed Arcturus as he gave a mournful nod. It brought him back to the previous eve and Veledar’s confession. While the dragon’s pride was saved over the loss of his book, he could not think of allowing the lich to get away unscathed. “While this is sad and regretful," he began, "I have much more pressing matters to attend to."

"Is it treasure?" Feku's eyes gleamed with excitement.

“No.”

"Another dragon?" Feku's claws clacked together eagerly.

“Eventually.” Lyndis admitted, sipping her cup.

“Yay!”

“No." sighed Arcturus, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "It's not another dragon, at least not for now." Feku slumped, arms crossed in disappointment. Arcturus continued, "Crimson Sky hinted that the lich knew his name, suggesting there's only one way that could be possible... Through his mother."

Silence fell over the table, Lyndis and Merlia exchanging knowing glances. They had been there to receive the news of her death, witness the sorrow that gripped Veledar’s heart. Arcturus could still remember the dragoness’ kind face as she relayed her message to a Veledar she’d never seen.

"Is that right?" Lyndis managed to stammer, studying Arcturus intently. "What are you thinking about it?"

He paused, meeting the conviction in their eyes, the same determination that had led them into the heart of Entis to retrieve what they had initially dismissed as a mere book. "After we deliver the Uniter’s plans, I think we should focus on dismantling whatever scheme that Nigel has." Arcturus replied firmly.

"So, it be a personal vendetta to kick his teeth in, eh?" Merlia leaned back, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "Looks like the dragon is a proper dwarf after all, grudging already. I might shed a tear."

"Sure, about that, Arc?" Lyndis raised a skeptical brow. "Asterion's in it for the diamonds, not to go fight some undead bastard. Besides," her voice lowered, "you didn't exactly fare well against the bastard last time. What makes you think poking him will be good for our health?"

His insides churned over the night, knowing the dragon had almost died alone, “I wasn’t with him.” He stammered, “None of us were.”

She leaned back, tilting her head. "You're punishing me for wanting to form an adventuring party, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he sighed. "I know this is a tough ask, but this Lich seems to be at the root of all our problems. Lumara, the war, Crimson Sky's deceased mother—everything is connected. If we eliminate him, things might settle down, giving the kingdoms a chance for peace."

"And our resident cleric?" Lyndis interjected. "Last I checked, he's got a gryphon and a kobold trailing after him."

“The vault he was looking up-” Arcturus went to explain the golden dragon upon the stone slab, his vast wealth that Nigel was researching. When he got to the part of the diamonds, their eyes widened at the prospect of it all.

“It sounds like a trap to me." Lyndis scoffed, leaning back. "We set off to fetch Crimson Sky's book, and suddenly we needed diamonds. Isn't it suspicious that's what's on offer here?"

"The Emerald Lady." Arcturus replied bitterly, his heart sinking at the thought of her. “It would appear as though we never left her scheme.”

"Why the sour faces?" Krotos interjected cheerfully, snapping his beak at each of them. "She's the oracle dragon who sees the future, right? If she's pointing us towards success, why not follow her?" He fluffed up his feathers, rolling his eyes dramatically. "And what's wrong with having a green dommy mommy? Let her stay on top and enjoy the ride, wonderful each time." With that, he happily stuffed a pancake into his beak, emitting a satisfied warble.

"You never knew her." Arcturus replied, the phantom pain of her enchantment bubbling to the surface. "She ensnared us, cursed us, manipulated us to her will. We broke free only because she allowed it."

"Aye, she twists minds like pieces on a game board." Merlia growled.

“Still not seeing the problem.” Krotos’ ears splayed.

“She said my kingdom was to be ruled by dragons.” Lyndis said.

“Sounds wonderful, clearly your dragon boyfriend puts some eggs in you.”

“What if I don’t want a clutch of eggs put into me?”

He cocked his head, eyes glistening with skepticism, “I thought everyone liked getting egged.”

Lyndis gave an exasperated sigh, “How would you feel?”

“I don’t know, I’m open to new kinks.” The gryphon rubbed his chin with a wing, “Suppose we could visit a mage or a druid, they could- “

“Is this how we spend our mornings?” Shandalar strode on by, collecting a plate with toast and a smattering of sausages. “Filling our time with talk of salacious acts and one’s genitals?”

“Hey, we hadn’t even started talking about that!” Krotos countered with a ruffling of his feathers.

“Yea, Arcturus didn’t tell me what dragon cock looks like!” Feku added, lashing her tail.

Never had cheeks burned as hot as Arcturus’ did in that moment as he buried his face into his hands. He couldn’t help but laugh, these were the people he surrounded himself with.

Shandalar simply sighed, “Fascinating.” With a wave of her hand, she whirled about, returning whence she came, “I’ll expect the lot of you to be ready in an hour’s time, we have much ground to cover.”

Though she’d left, her presence continued to still the air, silence gripping lips, snout and beak. It was Krotos who was first to shift on his hinds with an indignant squawk. “Well, as I was saying before missy judgy showed her pointed ears, what’s wrong with a big green dommy dragoness mommy?”

“I’ll tell ya why!” Merlia slammed her fist down, rattling the table, “Cause the green scaled cunt said I be dying in a ditch, alone!”

“She didn’t say you were dying in a ditch.” Arcturus corrected her, getting a sharpened glance.

“Might as well have!” She crossed her arms, wrinkling her brow, “It be a cold day in the hells before ole Merlia be dying alone.”

“So, you’re saying if you die, we’re all going down with you?” Lyndis chuckled into her cup, “No wonder you die alone.”

“That’s right, laugh it up ya blue blooded ninny!” Merlia belched, thrusting a greasy finger in Lyndis’ face, “I’ll sure be as your belly swollen with eggs!”

“Maybe it was some sort of metaphor?” Krotos shrugged, syrup dangling from his beak, “Like, your personality died, or your sex life.”

“Course it didn’t mean that kittybird, she meant I would be cold dead, motionless, off to the great beyond!”

It was Arcturus who froze amidst their debate, his thoughts racing back to Veledar's prophecy. The dragon had been foretold to find his greatest treasure in Entis, a mystery that had confounded both knight and dragon alike. But now, as they bantered around him, Arcturus's heart trembled with a newfound realization—he had been named as the dragon's greatest treasure just the previous evening.

"Arcturus, you alright?" Lyndis raised an eyebrow, concerned.

"He's fine, just agreeing with me." Merlia quipped, her smile mischievous. "Isn't that right, Arcturus?"

"Greatest treasure." he muttered softly, lost in his thoughts.

"Did you break him, Lyndis?" Merlia teased, nudging him.

Shaking off his reverie, Arcturus gathered himself, a pit forming in his gut. "Vel—Crimson Sky—he said I was his greatest treasure. Last night."

Feku warbled, her scales shifting a shade of pink, “That so sweet! Dragon wonderful! What wrong that?”

Arcturus grimaced as he and Lyndis shared a knowing look, practically envisioning the piercing lavender eyes of the dragoness who had spoken it. “That he was destined to lose it as well.”