Chapter 1 Where it begins

Rowdy laughter, clinking of glasses, loud music and even louder voices. That was the impression one would get upon entering the Drunken Bass. The heavy scent of the sea, not ten meters away, was only drowned out by the heavier odour of alcohol. Coarse language was used like it was the only proper way to speak and more than one man had ogled his wife. He couldn’t do more than glare at them, biting his tongue as he saw another come too close for comfort. The sailor, slightly drunk by the sight of him, leered at his wife and he felt his hand twitch above his sword. His wife for her part ignored any stares. Her attention was solely for their child in her arms. The sailor’s eyes went to their child as well and a snarl appeared on his nasty visage.

“A whore cradling a babe? Leave it like you’ve done with the others,” he said.

He got up, his teeth clenched and his hand on his sword. If this filth even knew who he’d been talking to, he would’ve reconsidered his words. Now he would teach the sailor what happened to those who insulted his wife. The sailor had barked a laugh as he’d gotten up. After all, he was still barely reaching the man’s shoulders. It didn’t matter, he would teach this son of a sow the finer points of a fight.

“Oi mate, she yours? You take the babe while I take her,” the sailor said.

He was halfway of unsheathing his weapon, when he heard her whisper him to stop. His fingers flexed and he tore his eyes off the sailor to turn to his wife. She was now looking at him, defiance radiating from her. Her blue eyes burnt with an anger he’d seldom seen while her face remained impassive. A scowl formed on his face, realizing she was right. What had been the use of travelling all the way here undercover, to blow it all up now due to some drunken idiot? He had to work with worse from day to day. He turned one more time to the sailor, who was eyeing him with a grin. His insolence would most certainly be punished. But not now, not here. He took a deep breath and with that turned his back to the man and sat down once more.

“Nancy, you gonna do what the it tells you?”

He let the remark slide. Reacting would cause the scene he’d just avoided. He took a sip of his ale, aware that not only his wife and the sailor were looking at him, but a good portion of the tavern had stopped their conversations to eye the potential bar fight. The music now seemed a lot louder as but a few voices still dared to talk. He placed his drink down and instead of gracing the sailor with his attention, he turned to the child in his wife’s arms. Her curious blue eyes stared at him and a smile formed on his lips, were it not for the lout yelling at him.

“Ey, Imma talkin’ to y-“

“That would be quite enough, Mister Thomas,” a deep voice said.

A shiver ran over his spine and as he turned, he could see a lean man well in his thirties holding the arm of the sailor. His back was turned to him, so only a dark brown coat and messy black hair were visible for him, yet he knew this was the one they came to meet. The sailor Thomas was sweating profoundly at the sight of the man, whimpering as said man increased his grip on his arm. Apologies flitted the man’s lips and for a moment, he felt sorry for the blubbering sailor. The man let go of his arm, followed by a good-natured laugh and a rough pat on the back. Thomas lurched forward and if the man hadn’t grabbed him by the back of his vest, the sailor would have tumbled over them.

“Good man, get yourself another drink and leave these people alone. My treat,” the dark haired man said, giving Thomas a few coins.

Thomas nodded and rushed off. People stared at the man while he looked around. It didn’t take long for the bustle to rekindle, even though the patrons of the tavern kept a watchful eye on the newcomer. The black haired male shrugged off the stares and walked calmly around the table. The man yelled his order to a barmaid before taking a chair and sitting across of him, his wife and their daughter.

Now that he had a clear view of the man, he could feel his blood boil. He despised the one sitting in front of him and all of his race. The man’s dark purple eyes shone with mirth as his slit pupils went from him to his wife and rested on the baby girl. His black hair was unkempt with a few locks falling past his eyes. His lips parted, showing his sharp teeth while he smiled. The man repositioned himself, so his hand could stroke his chin, where no hair grew. Instead a patch of black scales was visible. Everything about the figure was an irritation to him. Silence befell their group until a maid brought the drink of their guest. He took a swig from it before his brow settled on pensive.

“So, please tell me why the esteemed King and Queen of Onivia beseech my aid,” the dark haired male said.

He looked around, seeing if anyone had heard his or his wife’s title. But with the conversations and the music, it seemed no one was paying attention to their conversation. The King gritted his teeth as he glared at his conversation partner.

“Believe me dragon, if it were up to me you would have been dead before you entered,” he said through clenched teeth.

At this the man sniggered and took another sip. The music went louder while a few sailors were singing along, but it did not douse out the words that followed.

“Now, now King Oros. Is that the way a royal requests aid nowadays?”

King Oros grimaced. He did not need a lecture of royal etiquette from a dragon. Said dragon stared at him, his dark purple eyes focussed on him. He replied to the stare with one of his own. He would have kept up his stare for the duration of the day, if not for his wife. He felt her hand on his leg and begrudgingly looked away. She was now also looking at the dragon, who chuckled softly as he settled back.

“You know why we’re here, don’t you?”

His wife’s words were whispered. It took him all he had to understand her. The dragon on his part did not reply at first, but kept staring. His lips had long since lost the smirk that had played upon them and were now two lines drawn close together. His chin was still caressed by his left hand. The silence took too long and Oros became impatient.

“She said...”

“I’ve understood her perfectly,” the dragon said.

“Then why...”

“Am I being silent?”

King Oros grumbled a few profanities under his breath, but nodded nonetheless. This beast acting so high and mighty was sickening enough. Getting into an argument with one who actually wanted to help him would not support his efforts. The dragon regarded him again for a minute, testing his patience.

“To be honest, I only came to see if this was not a trap. After all, why would King Oros, slayer of dragons, come with a request only dragons could handle?”

King Oros blushed a dark shade of red. He obscured his shame by looking at his wife. His Queen had returned her attention briefly to their daughter, who’d crowed a bit as she missed her mother’s gaze. She must have noticed the new silence as she once more looked up. He saw her looking at him with the exact same gaze she’d done when the decision was made.

“That is why we’ve approached you, sir,” she said, not awaiting his reaction. “King Darres would never expect us to request aid from a dragon such as you.”

The dragon nodded slowly, but King Oros could see it was only doing so in understanding, not agreement. He remained silent, watching as the dragon now stared at his wife.

“I understand those thoughts, Queen Valynda, and yet I wonder. You must know of dealings with dragons, or you would not have approached any of my race. For my services, I too require something.”

“You call it equal exchange, is it not? We’ve provided for this as well,” the Queen said.

The King was fortunate his wife was discussing the terms. His confidence was waning. He despised dealings with dragons. They were wicked and above all, cunning. Many men had been misled by the monstrous lizards. A fact he had reminded his very own advisor of, the moment he had coined the idea. Any place to hide his daughter had been fine, but the fool had dared to moot the preposterous notion of hiding his very own heir with the monsters that lurked within his borders. His advisor had shown he had thought this through. Due to the war with Bolvan, soldiers to protect the princess could not be spared. Also very few dared to oppose the dragons, or at least not without a small army. He added the obvious fact that it was a well-known fact that the King of Onivia despised dragons. Bolvan would never look for the young princess in a dragon’s lair. And even if word came out that a dragon had taken her, they would most likely assume it to be an act of vengeance on the dragon’s part. All that was needed was a willing dragon and approval of the King and Queen.

King Oros had despised the idea and was more willing to spare his men to guard his child than to bargain with a dragon. His wife, however, thought of it differently. She always tried to find the good in people. And for her, dragons were as much people as humans were. She believed it to be their safest bet. She’d been silent after the failed kidnapping. This was the first time she spoke again and it was in line with the advisor’s words. She knew they would not see their daughter for years and yet she would feel safer with her daughter hidden. He’d yelled at her when her words died out. Accused her of not loving their child. Of having no faith in him. The gaze she gave him made any other accusation halt before it could be uttered. Shame took place for anger.

The motion passed and preparations had been made. All to meet the black dragon now carefully listening to his wife. His musings were cut short when he noticed the male looking at him, his deep purple eyes trying to detect any inconsistency.

“You are willing to abolish dragon hunting for the safety of your youngling?” the dragon said, his finger tops resting against each other.

King Oros blinked slowly. He’d been faintly aware that his wife had explained the terms. His head had been lulled by the music and the ale and focussing proved to be a small challenge. Once the realization came to him that the term ‘youngling’ was meant to be his daughter, he nodded. His attention fell completely on the dragon, who now scratched the patch of scales on his chin. His purple eyes alternated between Queen Valynda and King Oros, before resting on the Queen.

“Show it to me.”

It took all his willpower to remain seated. He watched how his wife slowly rose and carefully placed their child on the table. Their baby girl had her eyes wide open and was curiously looking at all the things that happened around her. His gaze briefly left the dragon to see his daughter smile at him. He tried to return the gesture, but managed only to lift a corner of his lips. He quickly looked back as the dragon stood up, getting a better look. He could see his daughter reacting, her big eyes watching the dragon’s every movement.

“Black hair like her father. Hopefully not his temper.”

King Oros nearly jumped up at the quip, with once more his wife halting him. Instead he opted for a foul glare to send the dragon’s way. The dragon took no heed of it, his eyes roaming the baby. If the overgrown lizard even thought of tasting her, the King would behead him right here and how. As the beast was oblivious to his seething anger, it reached out and touched the hand of the baby. The King held his breath as he watched. His daughter gurgled a laugh and a faint smile formed on the lips of the dragon.

“I’ll take the contract. I’ll deliver her when she’s twenty-one,” he said, his gaze returning to the royal couple.

“Twenty-one?”

King Oros had finally lost his temper and stood tall, glaring at the beast posing as a man. The monstrosity believed it could add demands? What was it planning to do with his daughter for such a long time? By that time he could as well be dead. He breezed heavily, while the dragon did nothing to hide a sneer.

“Yes, twenty-one. Among my race, that is the age of maturity,” he said.

“I don’t care what you animals see as the age of maturity. I want her back the moment she’s an adult according to our laws.”

For a moment, the King’s anger was quelled as he saw it flare in the purple eyes of his conversational partner. That anger quickly died out and a new sneer formed. Mockery belied his features, causing the anger of the King to rise again.

“An adult according to your laws? Tell me the age. Fifteen? Thirteen? If she’s unlucky, maybe even ten. Your laws are flawed. A male is an adult at fourteen, but a female the moment she bleeds? She would never realize the consequences of her actions at that age. Nor would a male for that matter. But you humans have a tendency for rushing things, I guess,” the dragon said.

“Don’t you dare insult -”

“The contract, my liege, will stand on these conditions. You will halt any dragon hunting activity by you or your peers on friendly dragons, as I understand that some of my race are not as benevolent as I am. And I will keep the youngling until she turns twenty-one. In return, I will protect her from any evil that may come across and teach her the things she will need as the heir. And I will hand her over to you on the day she turns twenty-one. This is my final offer.”

This had King Oros seated. The tone and body language of the dragon was clear. Any arguing would halt negotiations and make the whole venture fruitless. It did not soothe any hatred the King had bolstered. Instead it angered him even more. This conversation had been completely out of his hands and now the dragon’s demands were pressing. He looked at his wife, who looked quite distraught. Her hand had found the hand of their daughter and she held it. Her eyes were slightly misty as she turned from him to the dragon.

“Is…Is it possible for us to keep her for a few years? I can’t. I mean. I…” she trailed off.

King Oros beheld his wife. While she’d been adamant that this was the right course of action, the prospect of losing their daughter for twenty-one years was heavy on her. He could argue at least that much for her. He would keep his armies on the defensive, bolster his strength and keep their daughter safe for those few years. That much he could. The King turned to the dragon, who merely shrugged.

“If you wish the contract to start in a few years, then I’ll wait until she is…” he said.

“Four,” the King said briskly. “that is the most we can spare.”

The dragon bowed his head. “Four it is.”

Tears sprang in the Queen’s eyes and she thanked the dragon over and over. It took the King a while to calm her down. The dragon merely watched before he got up. The King rose along, matching the dragon’s gaze. The dragon extended his hand and the King knew this would be the moment when the contract would become binding. He swallowed some bile and took a deep breath. He then grabbed the dragon’s calloused hand.

“I swear that no order for harming dragons will be issued, unless they be dangerous,” the King said.

“I swear to protect your youngling during my care from any evil and hand her to you on the day she turns twenty-one,” the dragon said.

The hands held together for a little longer, a soft red glow coming from them. Once they released the King briefly believed to see a red tendril curling around his hand. The dragon had already lost his interest in the King. Instead he bowed one more time towards the girl. The baby girl laughed again when seeing his face and the same nasty smile appeared on the beast’s face. He took her left hand.

“I will see you soon, little…”

“Sylvana,” the Queen said.

For a moment the dragon looked at the Queen and nodded, his attention back to Sylvana. King Oros glared as the dragon approached the face of his daughter again.

“I will see you soon, little Sylvana. So swears Lyranthum.”

The baby gurgled a new laugh and the dragon got up. He made a mock bow to the King and walked out. As his presence left the bar, the ambiance got lighter and the people grew rowdier. The Queen had taken their daughter again and if not for her gasp, he would have guided her out this unsightly tavern. Instead he approached her and looked at what had surprised her. A new pang of anger coursed through him as he saw the dragon’s final gift. An ‘L’ shaped dragon depiction had formed on his daughter’s left hand. He looked at the exit the dragon had taken. This insolence would not stand. He would not allow it.

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