MAYBE PROLOGUE FROM ARENTYU

CH1

Dain could feel the itch beneath his skin. It started just under his shoulder blades, where the wings would emerge. He’d been in this little town for six days doing odd jobs here and there and generally avoiding humans as much as possible. Handy-man stuff, but nothing that paid well. Work was hard to find for his kind. More than a couple of weeks at a job and they found out what you were, and then you were out again and unpaid too. He turned his green eyes from the fire, instantly adjusting to the lower lighting, and looked around the tavern again. Dirt floor with clean straw, plank walls filled with mud, and rough-hewn tables chairs and benches, covered with years worth of stains that wouldn’t wash out. It was perfectly normal, even nicer than most he had been to, but it was stifling. He lifted his cup and grimaced. Empty again. Neither alcohol nor food seemed to affect him as it would a normal man when he was in this form. He sighed. He could always go back upstairs, sleep until nightfall and then leave the town.

    A commotion outside the tavern’s greasy paper windows took his attention from his musings. He pulled himself from the great chair and stretched, then followed the humans out. Six mounted men milled about the small town square, their horse’s hooves churning the wet ground into mud. They were yelling for attention:

    “Everyone to the square, immediately please. His Highness has an announcement.”

    One of the men had the royal crest of Dushvak on his helm and on the shield that hung from his trappings, but was otherwise just as muddy and travel weary as the rest of his men.

    “My people, I am Prince Judiah,” he spoke calmly and loudly as the crowd grew. “I am not here to cause panic, but I come to ask you to evacuate your homes and come with myself and the Rearguard of the army through Crater Pass to the Capital Plains. The Mornan army is moving towards the Pass as we speak and I would not have you in its way.”

This drew loud murmurs from the gathered people. Dain sighed and looked across the square. So much for work. If the war had moved this far in from the border then perhaps he should head South, to the coast. With the strength of the Dushvak navy, Morna wouldn’t dare go South. He frowned. An elderly man stood across the square glaring at the Prince. Dain watched the man and listened.

“I know it is much to ask, but hear me. There are three other towns already traveling with our escort on the Royal Way. I will offer you the same that I have offered them. The King, my father, is busy creating a displacement program for the refugees. You will have jobs, and homes on the Plain until the war is over and you can return, or until you find other homes for yourselves.”

People started yelling, asking questions, panicking. Dain’s frown deepened. It sounded like a good deal to him. Any government or monarch who cared about the people was rare indeed. He knew the Mornan nobles wouldn’t give a second thought to anything other than saving their own skin in a situation such as this. The old man was still staring angrily at the Prince as he dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy.

“Please!” He quieted the crowd with a raised hand. “I will stay the night in your Inn, and you may ask myself and my soldiers any questions you may have, but come tomorrow afternoon, we ride again. I suggest you go speak to your families and pack.”

His guards dismounted and formed a loose circle around him as he made his way through the mud and people to the tavern. They gently but firmly kept the townspeople from approaching en masse.

Dain turned to see the old man again, but he was gone already, into the crowd. Dain shrugged to himself and thought for a moment. He decided to go ahead and catch a short nap and then head out just before nightfall. The need to Change was persistent. He rolled his broad shoulders, cracked his neck and shoved his hands into his low-slung sword belt. He noticed a woman scurry by, clutching her shawl and shivering and he realized he’d left his coat inside. The cold didn’t bother him so he often forgot certain human differences. He headed back inside and grabbed it - a long black affair that matched his hair and the rest of his black wardrobe - and took the stairs to his room two at a time. A door at the end of the hallway opened just as he reached his room in the middle. He watched a guard exit, followed by the Prince. They were deep in conversation.

Suddenly his sensitive ears heard a faint but familiar sound at the top of the stairs behind him. The swish and snick of a thrown dagger. Instinct kicked in and he spun gracefully with superhuman speed, not even registering the look of surprise on the Prince’s face as he caught the flying dagger with his thumb and forefinger. He frowned. The crude dagger hadn’t been aimed at him, but rather past him. He looked to the top of the stairs and the old man stood there, trembling with rage.

“Thank you,” the Prince was beside Dain now, only an inch or two shorter, but with the same warrior’s build. His hair was brown, lightened by the sun, his eyes were deep grey, and his skin was clear and tanned, with lines where he’d worn armor.

Dain ducked his head, disinclined to speak.

“You saved my life,” the Prince studied him carefully as his guards detained the old man.

“I just did what anyone would have. Majesty. Highness.” Dain stared at the ground awkwardly. He’d adjusted well to speaking Common, but he still had trouble with titles and formalities. They were rarely used in his line of work. He still held the dagger in his right hand. He offered it to the Prince hilt first.

“I don’t think anyone could have done that. How did you?” The Prince took the dagger gingerly.

Dain let out a short breath and shrugged, “Don’t know what you mean sir. Your Grace.”

“Call me Jude,” the Prince smiled handsomely with straight even teeth, “Wait here a moment.”

It wasn’t a command or an order really, but Dain felt compelled to obey. He sniffed, but there was no trace of magic on the man.

The Prince approached the old man who had not tried to run, but stood silently, crying. They spoke in low voices, but Dain could still make out the conversation.

“Have I wronged you, sir?”

“My… my son…”

“Have I wronged your son?”

The old man sobbed, “He went off to fight… I haven’t heard from him in months.”

The Prince straightened. “I see. What company did he join? I have records of all of the companies back at the main caravan. We can look it up tomorrow and give you some peace of mind.”

The old man looked up with hope, “F-foxtail Company, sir. His name was - is - Rod.”

“I believe I sent Foxtail to the South - whole - two months back. We’ll double check tomorrow.”

The old man reached out a trembling hand and the Prince grasped it firmly.

“I- I’m so sorry. I thought he was killed. I didn’t know…” His tears wouldn’t stop. The guards escorted him back down the stairs at a nod from the Prince.

Finally the Prince turned back to Dain. Dain curled his toes in his boots. His talons liked to poke out whenever he got nervous.

The Prince crossed his arms and looked Dain over for a minute. Dain frowned again. There was nothing unusual about his wardrobe other than the lack of color, but even that was not uncommon in mercenary work. He looked up and the Prince was looking back.

“I want to know about you,” the Prince stated simply.

Dain was tempted to spill his whole story, from egg to roaming merc. Somehow he held his tongue.

“What would my lord like to know?”

“Jude, please. I’d like to know how you got so fast. Is it magic augmentation?”

Dain swallowed hard. He could feel the pains starting in his toes. Magical augmentation was rare, expensive, and usually illegal.

“Just… just lucky I guess,” he said lamely.

“I see.” Jude let his arms drop and rested his hands on his hips. “Is there any reward or service I can offer you for my life?”

Dain shook his head.

“Can I offer you a job, then?”

Dain scratched his neck. What kind of a job could the Prince have for him?

“A job?”

Jude shifted. “Yes, I’m in need of individuals with speed such as yours. It’s not a glamourous job, there’s no fighting, and you’ll be on the road alone much of the time, but it pays well. King’s gold.”

Dain looked at the Prince at the word gold. The man had essentially just described his dream job. Especially the gold part.

“What’s the job?”

“Messenger. Camp runner, essentially. We don’t have enough mages who are Gifted with long-range telepathy to put one in each camp or station, so we use the swiftest messengers we can find. That would be your job. Anywhere from the North of the Seaberheil Range, to the coast, to the Capital Plains in the West.” The Prince leaned in, “I’m not saying you are, but if you were magically augmented for speed somehow, no one would mention it because you’d be working for me, and for the King.”

Dain nodded in understanding. This Prince was clever.

“Can I answer you tomorrow?”

“Indeed,” the Prince stepped back and turned to his room, “We depart at midday with villagers in tow, if you wish to join us.” He turned back, “Might I have your name, friend?”

“Dain,” He bowed stiffly.

“Thank you, Dain.”

Dain waited until the Prince turned back and was almost to his door before rising. He entered his room quickly and shut the door behind himself. He breathed a sigh of relief and a puff of smoke escaped his lips. He needed to get out of the town before nightfall. The stress of almost being discovered was manifesting physically, which was rare for him. Usually he could manage the Change no matter what. He took a few calming breaths and found the deep, cool center inside himself that allowed him control.

“I should get a damned medal for the self-control I have,” he growled to himself. He quickly pulled his meager belongings together and stuffed them neatly into his pack. He pulled a few coins from his pouch and stared at the gold ones, entranced for a moment. He shook his head and shoved the pouch into the center of the pack. He made his way down the stairs again and closed out his tab. Instead of taking the road out of town, he cut between buildings and houses to get to the forest.

The sky was cloudy and a light rain had started falling by the time he reached the cover of the trees, even though it was only noon. Usually he would have made sure there were no tracks left behind him, and he would have stashed his belongings carefully, where no one could stumble upon them. Today he went as deep into the forest as he could stand to walk on two legs, threw his pack into a hole beneath a tree, stripped off his clothing and stood naked, willing the Change on himself. He found his well of peace and energy within his mind and nudged it gently. He felt the effects of the Change immediately.

It started in his toes. It always started in his toes when he didn’t force it. He could feel them elongating, curving, hardening. Black leathery wings sprouted from his back; hard black spikes from his spine to his tail, and his neck stretched and curved. Sleek black scales grew from his tanned skin, darkening him all over. The Change took not even a whole minute, but it felt like it had taken an hour. It was both pleasurable and painful. He beat his wings twice before taking flight through the treetops. The wind felt like home beneath his wings. He roared happily.

~~~~~

    Jude stared at the small piece of grey sky that he could see between the trees. He was trying to make sense of having just seen a man of about his own size turn into a dragon the size of a small house.

    “Were-dragon?” he murmured to himself.

    “Your highness, we should go. It’s not safe here,” Jude’s guard and close friend Rok cautioned.

    “You don’t say,” Jude glanced down to where Dain had dropped his pack and clothing.

    “Jude…” Rok’s tone warned.

    “Rok, he saved my life. I don’t think he wants me dead. I think he just wants his secret kept.”

    “Then we should do just that. Let’s go.”

    Jude looked back up at the sky. His grey eyes reflected the clouds and the damp had turned his light brown hair to a darker shade.

    “Rok, we’re staying.”

    “I was afraid you’d say that,” Rok groaned. His iron-grey hair that belied his young age was plastered to his neck and his brown eyes were steady. Sometimes Jude forgot the man was only ten years his senior, though he was still tall and muscular and could always best Jude in a fight. Always.

    “Your back hurting old man? Need to go back and rest?” Jude teased.

    Rok just grunted and squatted in the driest place he could find. Jude joined him, still grinning. They watched under the tree for the rest of the day and took turns sleeping through the night. They were both dozing lightly when they heard noises. They jumped to their feet grudgingly. Dawn was just showing her blush and promising a clear day.

    The crashing noise was coming from deeper in the woods. Jude stepped into the clearing where Dain had changed and squatted by the man’s pack and clothes.

    “I had a thought last night, between freezing and having a heart attack at every other noise.” Rok adjusted his pants and stepped up next to Jude. He’d just relieved himself.

    “What thought?” Jude chuckled.

    “I’ve heard of these were-dragons before. They’re called Skeinar or Midnight Dragons or some such.”

    “I think I remember reading about the Midnight Dragons.”

    “Do you remember that they’re natives of Morna?”

    Jude fidgeted. “I... didn’t remember that, no.”

    “Well they are. Straight outta the Dragon Range in the South of Morna. You know what that means?”

    “What?”

    “It’s your enemy and we should get straight outta here.”

    Jude had no time to respond as the dragon - Dain - crashed through the underbrush opposite them and into the little clearing. He spied them at once and stopped short. He turned his massive head so that he could look at them better and snorted. Two small gouts of flame escaped his nostrils. Jude heard Rok sigh sadly behind him. Jude raised his hands and rose slowly.

    “Greetings, Dain,” he really hoped this was the right thing to say to a dragon. “It’s Prince Jude. You saved my life yesterday and I offered you a job.”

    Dain stalked over to them and crouched.

    “I was pretty far from the mark when I assumed you were magically augmented, huh?”

    Dain blinked.

    “Anyways, knowing what I do now, I thought it’d be fair to let you know that I have a job better suited to… you as you are.”

    Dain cocked his great head to the side and looked at them. He raised onto all four legs and shuddered. He folded his wings tightly and pulled his neck back. He Changed quickly, forcing it. In less than a minute he was standing naked before the Prince as a man.

    Dain squinted suspiciously and Jude relaxed.

    “As I am? A dragon? No one will work with a Dragon, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

    Jude spread his hands, “I’ll work with you.”

    Dain frowned.

    “Would you like to hear about the job? We can discuss it over a drink.”

    Dain stepped past the Prince and grabbed his clothes. He pulled up his pants quickly, threw his tunic over his head and belted on his sword.

    “Alright,” he picked up his pack and brushed past the Prince, heading back into town.

    Jude frowned and watched Dain walk away.

    “What an odd fellow.”

    “Aye,” Rok agreed, “Just don’t go forgetting, Highness. He ain’t human.”

~~~~~

    Dain sat close to the fire in the tavern, drying his clothes. The Prince had gone upstairs to grab a map, saying it was important to explain things thoroughly. Dain stared into nothing, thinking. He’d been shocked that the Prince had offered him a different job, rather than trying to impale him on the nearest sharp object. He seemed like a rather genuine fellow, this Prince. Very decent. Charming. Near-perfect. Which was suspicious.

    “Hello,” Dain jumped at the sound of the Prince’s voice. “Here we are.” He dropped a scroll onto a nearby table and then pulled the table over to the fire. He unfurled it and used a dagger and an empty mug to hold it open.

    “Alright, this is where Morna’s forces split our army,” he pointed to a spot on the map between the Seaberhiel Peaks and the city of Tosta. It was perhaps a week’s hard march from them.

    “So we’ve moved the majority of the troops to cover the North Gap,” he slid his finger up the map, “and the rest to the South Gap because we have a stronger sea presence than they and I doubt that they try to go that way.” He tapped the South Gap and looked up at Dain.

    Dain frowned. “Why would they go either North or South when Crater Pass lies directly before them on the Royal Road? Were you planning a trap there?”

    Jude looked grim.

    “I had a perfect trap, actually, but… unforeseen circumstances - “

    “He means some fuck went and trained wyverns to fuck our shit up,” Rok stood behind the Prince’s chair, arms crossed.

    Dain barked a laugh. Wyverns were notoriously impossible to train.

    “No, he’s serious. I hear the Mornan Court Sorcerer is running the war while King Nanor mourns his wife still,” Jude shook his head. “Its been two years. We lost good men bringing down those dragons.” Jude looked up as he realized what he’d said. “I didn’t mean -”

Dain waved the explanation away and frowned. He knew there was a war, and he knew that Morna had started it with Dushvak, but he couldn’t remember why. Had he ever known? He didn’t really pay attention to the affairs of the humans on such a large scale if he could help it.

“Why?”

“Why did we kill-”

“Why did Morna declare war on Dushvak?” Dain crossed his arms and sat back. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Jude and Rok looked at each other and then to Dain.

“Well,” Jude sighed, “Morna thinks - I’m sorry, Morna’s king thinks - that I murdered their queen two years ago on a diplomatic mission to discuss waterway taxes.”

“Did you?”

Jude frowned, “Of course not. Queen Mila was beautiful and generous. Ive never met a sweeter woman. I awoke early on the day of my departure to the screams of the King and Princess. I barely escaped alive, though I didn’t know what had happened until later.”

“I see. Strange that a dead human sparks war. They die all the time in the streets from hunger or neglect and no one starts a war.” Dain shook his head. Both Jude and Rok were staring at him, aghast. He ducked his head. “I’m not very good at… being human.”

Jude chuckled and then laughed outright. Rok was smiling too.

“I like you, Dain,” Jude sat forward. “If you don’t want to join my personal company in the North…?” He left the question open and Dain shook his head slowly eyeing the map. “Then I thought you might like to plug that weakness you found earlier at Crater Pass. I don’t think you’ll need help if you work in your natural state. You can travel with us as a messenger to the Pass and remain there when we move on to the Plain. I’ll still pay handsomely for it. In gold.”

Dain raised an eyebrow and stared at the little map dot that marked Crater Pass.

“How long is this job guaranteed?”

Jude shrugged, “How long do Midnight Dragons live?”

“As long as we want.”

“Huh. Well then the job is yours for as long as you want it,” Jude smiled. “Your legend - for you’ll have one - starts here.”

Dain looked at the Prince carefully. Something didn’t feel right. Clear grey eyes looked out of his handsome honest face. All of Dain’s instincts screamed ‘trustworthy,’ even for Rok, the bodyguard, but there was something they weren’t telling him.

“You’re the Prince of Dushvak.”

“Yes.”

“Not the King.”

Jude frowned, clearly confused.

“Is not the King the only one who can award positions for life?”

Jude shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the map, tracing a river idly. Dain knew he’d found what was bothering him.  

“My father, the King, is… trusting the affairs of state to me while he concentrates on the people displaced by the war.”

The Prince glanced up and Dain shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m not very good with being false. He’s not well, but I refuse to take his crown while he lives. I don’t want the people to lose any respect for him, so I’m trying to keep it quiet. I trust you won’t let that information leak…”

It wasn’t a threat, merely a statement. Dain nodded.

“You will travel with us then?”

Again, Dain nodded.

“Your secret will come out sooner or later.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Jude smiled, stood, and extended his hand, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t be. Fantastic. We’ll ride out this afternoon to join the rest of the caravan and Rok can introduce you to the messengers.”

Dain rose and grasped Jude’s forearm.

“I’m ready when you are.”

~~~~~

    Dain walked softly in the underbrush beside the road, doing his best to remain out of the great cloud of dust that seemed inescapable. The sun had already dried out any moisture from the rain the day before. He’d fallen in with the runners and messengers of the camp when Rok had pointed them out and left with the Prince’s promise to teach him chess whenever they stopped that night. Just listening to the talk between the messengers he had learned that there were four villages in the great caravan now, including the one the Prince had just brought in. They’d all come too, every person of every village had wanted to be out of the way when the Mornan army marched through. He’d heard bets on whether the caravan would stop for the night or press on to the foot of the mountain. He’d also learned that the rearguard was more than a full day late joining them. The messengers drew straws on who would go back when the Prince asked them to. Dain had stopped paying attention when an argument broke out about which straw was shortest. Suddenly a voice broke into his reverie.

    “Are you new?”

    A short, lithe girl in a red tunic with trim that matched her black tights fell into step beside him. She had shockingly white hair, but he couldn’t see her eyes. She was looking down, concentrating on walking through the low brush and broken sticks and holding the leather straps of the pack she’d strapped to her back. Dain sensed something familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

    “I am, yes. My name is Dain.”

    She almost tripped over a fallen root and he threw out a hand to catch her. She laughed and turned to him, accidentally flipping her hair into his face.

    “Thanks, sorry, I’m a bit graceless.”

    He smiled. He’d figured it out by her smell.

    “Unusual for a Changer to be clumsy,” he murmured. She looked up at him sharply with large smokey blue eyes and pulled her elbow away. He put up his hands. “Trust me, I’d know.” He let his eyes slip back to their natural state for just a moment and gave her a glimpse of slitted pupils in eyes too large for a human face.

    She frowned and shook her head as if to clear it, but still took the hand he’d stretched out in greeting.

    “I’m -”

    “Snoooooow!” The call came from the troupe of messengers who’d passed them as they stood. She flinched.

    “I’m Snow. Come on.”

    She pulled him quickly by the hand she still held and he noted that speed made her graceful. He allowed her to pull him along, amused. She stopped in front of a mounted guard, still on the side of the road. Two of the other messengers stood with him, packs on their backs.

    “You’re up, Snow. Short straw,” one of the messengers motioned back down the road behind them.

    “The Prince instructed that two go,” the guard said.

    Snow looked at the other messengers, but they both shook their heads. She turned to Dain cheerfully, her earlier apprehension vanished like the morning dew.

    “Would you like to go find the rearguard with me?”

    Dain thought a moment. The other two messengers had slunk back into the sea of people. The guard was awaiting a decision.

    “Alright.”

    The guard nodded curtly and turned his horse quickly, riding back up the column.

    “So,” Dain turned to Snow, “what now?”

    Snow smiled, “Follow me. Now we run!”

    She turned into the forest and made her way carefully through the trees, dain following, until they could no longer see the caravan.

    “Hope you aren’t shy,” Snow promptly unbuckled her belt and let it drop, then pulled her tunic over her head, leaving her breasts bare to the cold. Dain raised a brow and watched her passively as she stripped off her tights and boots as well, folding them up neatly and rolling the tunic around all of it. The wind picked up and Dain could see the goosebumps rise on her flesh and her pink nipples harden, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She looked at him and frowned.

    “Well hurry. You said you were a Changer. I’ve got a reputation as the fastest and I need to keep it up.”

    Dain chuckled, “You change to run errands?”

    Snow pouted at him a moment and nodded. She stuffed her clothes into her pack and closed it tightly. Dain still watched her, curious as to what she Changed into.

    She closed her eyes. Her long white hair seemed to attach itself to her back and grow into a shaggy coat, her face lengthened into a short furry snout and she landed on all fours as a great white wolf, larger by half than any normal wolf. Her Change had only taken a moment. She looked at him and yipped impatiently. Dain shook his head and she growled.

    “Fine, but we need a bigger clearing than this,” he gestured to the trees. Snow bounded away happily and was back before Dain could turn to see where she went. She yipped again and he followed her to a slightly larger clearing a few yards away. Dain sighed and dropped his own pack, then his clothes and sword. He followed her lead and stuffed them into his pack, pulling it closed and tying the sword to the bottom. He turned to her then. She was sitting at the edge of the clearing, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as her eyes followed a squirrel in the upper branches of the tree above her. Dain thought he heard her whine quietly.

    “I’m not a wolf. Don’t run away.”

    Snow closed her mouth and snorted at him.

    Dain found his center and forced a Change. The pain was more intense when forced, but was not quite as drawn out. He opened his dragon eyes and the world looked a bit more grey. Colors were faded and almost nonexistent unless he specifically concentrated on them. Snow, to her credit, crouched by the tree. Dain thought for sure she’d have run away. That was two people in two days who hadn’t been frightened of his true form. He could get used to this. She shuddered and walked over to him slowly, sniffing his claws and tail all around him in a circle. Finally she looked up at him and Changed just her head back so she could talk to him.

    “You need to shrink. You’re too big.”

    Dain blinked at her heavily. He’d never tried to make himself smaller. He’d tried making himself bigger when he was younger and remember that it took an excess of energy to maintain a large form. Perhaps the opposite was true of being small. He closed his eyes and concentrated, finding his well of energy. He remembered trying to blow his image up in his mind as someone would puff out their cheeks. Now he tried to suck the image in. He could feel his muscles straining and bones popping, though there was no pain. When he opened his eyes again they were level with Snow’s eyes. She’d Changed back and was staring at him oddly. She stuck her furry snout next to his scaled one and licked him. He shook his head, unsure what that was about.

Suddenly he wanted to fly as fast as he could. He was full of energy and he leapt about the clearing happily, scoring marks in the tree trunks with his claws and ripping leaves from their branches. He knew he looked undignified, but he didn’t care. Finally he grabbed a branch that was too thin and it snapped as he hung from the bottom of it. He flipped in midair as he fell, using his wings to balance, and landed like a cat in front of Snow, heart pounding but no less energized.

    Snow sat patiently until he was done frolicking and shook her wolf head when he landed in front of her. She yipped once and grabbed his pack - which he had quite forgotten about - between her teeth. She’d already brought hers into the clearing and grabbed it as well.

Dain chirped at her and then balked.

He’d never made that noise before in his life. Snow let out a few short wheezing huffs of air and he realized she was laughing. He tossed his head at her and she dropped the packs, still laughing. He grabbed his own pack with his front claws and shoved her over playfully with his tail. She tumbled and yipped but he took to the air before she could get to him.

The pack was awkward in his claws, but not to the point that it impaired his flight. He flew between the trees lazily in a general Easterly direction, waiting for Snow to catch up. She bounded quickly under him, pack in her mouth, and passed him. He beat his wings faster to keep up with her and soon they were speeding through the trees happily.

What would have taken them a day and a half to walk on two legs, took only a few hours by wing and paw. They knew immediately when they passed from Dushvaki soil to conquered land. The trees, which had been hundreds of shades of green and gold to signal the oncoming of the harvest season, were uprooted, burnt, and generally stripped of their beauty. The ground was furrowed and torn, and great swathes of underbrush were stamped down into the earth by boots and hooves.

Snow slowed as they passed the mauled countryside and Dain sensitive ears picked up her whine. She stopped entirely half a mile in and Dain circled around to land beside her.

    She pawed the ground anxiously and Dain kneaded the earth with his claws. They should have found the rearguard more than two miles West, towards the mountains where the caravan was heading. Snow was sniffing the ground around the entire area, trying to find a trail to follow Dain assumed. He settled down where he was, tucking his claws under his belly and wrapping his tail around his feet. He half closed his eyes and one by one shut his senses down until he was focused on only what he could hear. Fond memories of his mother teaching him the uses of sensory focus in hibernation rose unbidden to his mind. He shoved them away violently and listened.

    He heard the quiet footfalls of a wolf and the short, sniffing breaths as the loudest things in the clearing. He heard the breeze tripping through the tops of the trees, whistling and whining about the lack of leaves. He heard the trees creaking and mourning in response. He heard no other animal noises. They’d all been driven away. He listened to the earth. There was a faint beating. A march. He lowered his head and rested his jaw flat on the earth. Snow’s footsteps grew louder through vibration. The marching beat grew louder and more erratic. Humans, and within a mile. Not many of them though. Perhaps the missing rearguard?

    Dain lifted his head and opened his eyes. Snow was at the far edge of the clearing, nose to the ground. He stood quickly and Changed back, finding his pack where he left it upon landing. He pulled his clothes on and belted on his sword. He whistled softly and Snow bounded out from some trees to his side.

    “Humans. Not far and not many. Nearer to the road,” he motioned with two fingers to the North.

    Snow nodded her wolf head and nudged her pack towards him. He picked it up and shouldered it next to his own as she bounded away again. He followed her at a fast trot, holding his sword to keep it from banging against his left hip. Memories floated up again of his mother. The flash of her black scales that matched the shine of her hair when she Changed. She’d taught him to fight with tooth, claw, bow, and sword. He remembered hiding under her wings when he was very little and still afraid of thunderstorms. He grimaced and focused on the present. He slowed as he neared the road and kept out of sight.

    Suddenly he heard shouting, a bark, and a whimper. He sprinted towards the noise and found Snow limping into the woods, an arrow sprouting from between her ribs, bright blood staining her white fur. Dain pulled off his tunic and knelt beside her. He could hear the shouting closer now, and boots stomping. He wrapped the tunic around her, noting that she was much smaller now than she had been. The arrow he left. He motioned quietly back the way they had come and she whimpered but limped away.

    Dain had dropped the packs by his feet when he had taken off his tunic. Now he dropped his belts, sword and pants, pulling his feet out of his boots and affecting the Change as fast as he ever had just as the first Mornan guard passed through the nearest trees. Dain looked down at the man who cowered and backed up as fast as he could. His head was now ten feet above the man, who had backed into a tree. Four other guards appeared around Dain and he felt a series of sharp quick taps on his scales. They were shooting wooden arrows at him, the fools.

    Dain opened his mouth and sucked in air, paused for effect, then blasted three trees in a concentrated burst of flame that was meant to scare them rather than harm. It worked as he planned and they ran towards the road. He roared loudly and leapt above the treetops, beating the air down with his wings to create as much noise as possible and to blow the smoke after them. He followed them, lazily circling and watching their panic. They joined a larger group of soldiers on the road and within moments every man had a weapon out and were looking to the sky. They shot a few arrows up but he avoided them easily, circling them.

    He found the leader - a tall gangly man with a broadsword, long grey hair, and a coat of arms on his shield and tunic, rather than the Mornan army crest - and made a few low passes, trying to scatter the men. He spit out a few fireballs to maneuver the men and soon the leader was alone. Dain swooped in close and grabbed the man with his front claws, careful not to hurt him. The man yelled and swung his massive sword in a futile one-handed attempt to stab the dragon, but the weight was too much and the sword fell from his hand. Dain had no trouble hefting the man and flying. He ducked back into the small copse where he’d bandaged Snow’s side with his tunic. Her blood stood out as bright red spots in his world of greys and muted colors. He kept the man’s feet off the ground and grabbed the packs and his clothes and sword with a hefty grasp of one great back claw, pulling up a few clods of dirt with it and avoiding the fires in the trees easily. He then vaulted back into the sky. He heard no shouts behind him so he assumed that no one was following yet, thought he’d no doubt that they would.

    Dain flew over the trees toward the much bigger clearing he’d sent Snow to. He reached it and found her on her side on the ground, panting. He hovered for a moment and dropped the man a few feet from her. The soldier rolled when he hit the ground and ended in a clumsy sprawl on his back. Dain promptly landed, one claw extended fully to cover the man. The man smelled of piss.

    Dain nudged Snow gently with his scaled snout. She didn’t respond. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and placed his jaws on either side of her. Slowly and gently he closed them around her until he was sure he could lift her in his mouth without injury. She whimpered as he pulled her up and she twitched her tail into his face.

    Not a little ungently he closed his claw around the man and with a few great beats of his wings he was airborne again, heading West, back to the caravan. It was slow going with all the extra weight. He could feel Snow’s weight in his mouth grow heavier each time he beat his wings. The man hadn’t moved in quite a while so Dain assumed he was either dead or fainted. Either way was fine with him. It took twice the amount of time to reach the caravan than it had to reach the Mornan soldiers. The caravan had made it all the way to the base of the mountain and it was already dark. Dain was exhausted.

    He flew high in circles over the camp, looking for something that would mark the Prince’s tent or quarters. By chance he spied Rok exiting a large tent that looked like any other. He made a slow descent to the wooded area just behind the tent.

    A shout went up. He could smell the fear radiating off the humans. Someone had seen him. He landed softly, pinning the man again between ground and claw, and relaxing the back claw that held the packs. He lowered his head and gently released his hold on Snow, making sure she was well protected between his legs. When he raised his head he was surrounded by noisy guards holding pikes. He blinked and kept still. There was more shouting. He was too tired for this. He felt like his bones wouldn’t support his weight and that he might tumble over. He hadn’t been this tired since his mother had made him fly against a tide wind for two days.

    “Stop! Leave him,” the Prince strode into view from around the tent. “You there, back to your posts. You, go fetch a surgeon. You, fetch water to my tent. Buckets.” He sent the men off with authority. Dain rumbled in his chest as Jude walked up. Only two guards remained beside Rok.

    “You two, lock this man with the others. Make sure his injuries are tended. We’ll need to talk to him in the morning.”

    The guards stepped forward tentatively and Dain released the Mornan captain, lifting his claw clear. The man was terrified.

    “Who is this?” Jude gestured to Snow. Dain grumbled and stepped back. He nudged her with his snout, but still no response. Jude knelt next to her and gently untied the tunic to get a better look at the wound. The arrow wasn’t buried too deep that Dain could see, but at this point he couldn’t see much. He huffed lightly in the Prince’s hair and curled himself tightly into a ball of dark scales. He heard the Prince speaking in a low voice to Rok and then sweet sleep washed over him.

~~~~~

    Jude lifted the white wolf gently despite Rok’s protests. He was sure it was another Changer. Why else would Dain have brought her here? He took her into his own tent and laid her on the table. The arrow was less than an inch buried past the shaft, but she’d lost a lot of blood. Rok came in behind him carrying the smaller of the two packs that Dain had dropped.

    “I left the dragon’s stuff next to him and posted a brave soul as close as possible to keep the less brave away. This I assume is hers. If she’s -”

    “She is. Remember the runner with the long white hair? The girl?”

    “There’s more’n thirty runners. I don’t remember any of them. You’re lucky I even remember you some days,” Rok grumbled.

    The surgeon entered the tent quickly followed by a soldier carrying two buckets of water and doing his best not to slosh it everywhere.

    “Your highness,” the surgeon rushed to him. “What happened? The blood -”

    “I’m fine. Here, its her blood.” Jude pointed to the table.

    The surgeon frowned, “You want me to kill it? It looks like you’re in no danger now.”

    “No, I want you to save her.”

    “Highness!” The surgeon turned wide eyes back to Jude, only to turn back at the determination in his face.

    “I - I’ll try, of course. I’ve never performed on an animal before.” He muttered quietly as he inspected the wound, probing it. “Decorated war doctor, highest honors in my class at the capital’s medical institute, reduced to saving wild animals. Haven’t seen a decent bloody wound in months - not that I want to. I don’t even know how these creatures are put together. What’s under here?”

He sighed and pulled the arrow out of the wolf. She whimpered and twitched, but otherwise made no attempt to maul him. He grunted and motioned for a bucket of water. He took the bucket with bloody hands and slowly poured it over the wolf, avoiding the head. Blood washed out of the white fur in rivulets, splashing and pooling under the table and then running down the slight incline to the entrance of the tent.

The wolf whined and opened her eyes slightly at the feel of the cold water. Jude stroked her neck and soothed her. She licked his hand and closed her eyes again. The surgeon cleaned the wound quickly and bound it with white linen he’d brought with him.

“Should be fine in a few days. It wasn’t a bothersome wound. I’m surprised the animal didn’t break the arrow off and run,” He shrugged and piled the bloody clothes into the empty water bucket. He left with instructions to change the bandage at the same time the next day.

Jude pulled up a camp stool and sat next to the wolf’s head, stroking her silky fur and rubbing her head. Rok shook his head.

“I’ll go talk to the prisoner.”

“Talk nice. I’m sure just the mention of another flight with a dragon is enough to make him piss his pants again,” Jude chuckled softly. Rok grinned and left.

Jude sat for a long time with the wolf, trying to remember what he could about the white-haired messenger girl. He was sure it was her, but he’d only ever seen her once. He fell asleep there with his head on the table and one hand on her neck.

He woke with a start to morning sunlight kissing the side of his tent and the sound of lapping water. He didn’t understand at first, then he realized that the wolf wasn’t on the table. He stood and found her lapping from the other bucket of water that had been left the night before.

“‘Hello,” he knelt beside her. She responded by jumping up and placing both paws on his shoulders. He overbalanced unexpectedly and fell to his back, laughing. She licked his face repeatedly, happily. He scratched behind her ears and she pounded her back paw into the ground.

“You’re feeling better I see,” he pulled himself back to his feet with the table and checked her bandage. He didn’t see any blood. She yipped and chased her tail in a circle twice, making him laugh.

Suddenly she shuddered and Changed in front of him. The bandage fell away and she stood naked before him. Jude reddened and turned away quickly.