So...heads up to any ladies out there. If you ever get a chance to ride a dragon, make sure your hair is tied up or braided or something, because holy crap. I didn't think I'd ever get my hair under control again. When I was little, I wanted to be Rapunzel and so, at the age of five, I made a vow to never cut my hair. While that didn't last super long, mainly since my mom sat me down and explained the importance of at least getting trims, I have always kept my hair about waist-length.

That's, what? Something like two feet of hair whipping around behind me at like thirty or whatever miles per hour? For seventeen hours straight? Yeah, I timed that flight. I didn't have a lot else to do. I mean, Brath may know how to talk into the wind, but I don't. Just trying left me hacking and coughing and Brath laughing at me.

He talked a bit, off and on. I think it was intended to be to himself though, because when I did manage to make a comment about something he said about waiting for a dead wing—is that like a leg cramp?—he nearly fell out of the sky. Well, maybe not. But he stopped mid flap and glanced back at me all startled like. We dropped a few terrifying yards through the air before he caught himself.

After that, he didn't say anything.

So I'm thinking that was Fizz's spell letting me understand something I probably shouldn't have. Like a secret dragon language or something. I wish I'd tried harder to understand what he was saying.

Anyway, I really enjoyed flying, until we landed and I found out that my hair looked like it might be permanently windswept. I was all sorts of upset and Brath was annoyed with me. I mean, I wasn't going out of my way to complain or say I didn't appreciate his help or anything, but I was rather frantically clawing at the tangles in my hair. Methodically. I mean, I started at the bottom and wished to God or whatever I was supposed to wish to in Azeroth that I had a brush.

Just as I remembered that I hadn't ever bothered to look into the pack Fizz had given me and flipped it open, Brath decided to be extra helpful.

Apparently dragons can turn just parts of themselves dragon when they're in human form. Because one minute I'm unclasping the top of the satchel, feeling my matted, unloved hair against the back of my neck, the next my head feels incredibly light.

I was in shock for a minute, right? Because I knew what had happened, but I wanted very much so to reject that reality. After what felt like forever, I turned around in time to watch Brath tossing my long, tangled locks of hair into the ocean—when he said 'place to land', he didn't mention it would be a tiny little dot of an island that made that unfriendly beach look like the Bahamas. I mean, if a decent sized wave came by, we'd both get washed off the stupid rock. And I'm not talking west coast waves. I'm talking decent for an east coast wave. That's like, nothing.

Grateful, grateful. He's helping me...

I'm still mad at him, though. I mean, he used his dragon clawed hand to cut my hair quickly, but it's not even at all and I guess it's kind of cute in a raggy sort of way, but I don't do raggy.

I know there are thousands of more important things to worry about, but...I loved my hair. It's like all the things that make me the me from my world are slowly being chipped away. By the time I get back to my world, I won't belong to it anymore.

Anyway, he muttered something about my hair not being a problem anymore as I ran to the edge of the rock and considered throwing myself into the ocean after it, even though I knew that was a dumb idea. I mean, it was cut off, so what was I gonna do, glue it back?

I didn't even have glue. I didn't have anything except for goggles and Fizz's goodbye package.

Which again reminded me I had yet to look into it. Brath dismissed himself to go catch dinner and as much as I didn't want to know what poor animal he might be maiming for a meal, I figured that if anything lived on our rock, we would have seen it by now, so it probably wasn't something fluffy or adorable. And being in the middle of the ocean, that meant he was going for fish, right? I admit I was curious to see if he was gonna go diving at the water like a pelican, but again, I didn't want to see something like a whale get torn to pieces.

So instead, I curled up near the central, raised part of the 'island' and went through the pack. There were five staling muffins along with five water pouches. The lids were screwed on really tight and I ended up wasting half of one because when I finally managed to uncap it, the water erupted out because I'd had to squeeze it so hard just to turn the thing.

I tried not to drink too much, since I didn't want to go through my resources too fast. I mean, we had seven days to go on our flight. I held off on the muffin to see if Brath would remember to hunt for two. And to, you know, make sure there would be a way to cook anything he might bring back.

Well, at the bottom of the pack was a note and a pristine, thick book.

Hey kid,

I just wanted to give you a few pointers, since I'm not really the type to travel. People may not believe that you're from another world right away, but show them those goggles of yours. I ain't seen nothing like them, so I bet that'll help show that you have other-worldly technology. And if they're still doubtful, have them try to cast a spell on you. That sort of magic resistance is beyond anything I've ever seen in Azeroth. Or, hey, mention my translation spell.

It dawned on me that you probably don't know much about the species here, so I've drawn you a sketch of a draenei. Pretty much think hooves, horns, tails, and blue skin. Real tall.

I also included some food and a few gold, to help you find a place to stay. You may need to find a job or something if you're stuck in Stormwind for more than a week, though.

Anyway, best of luck,

Fizz Icesprog

P.S. Look, I know you're confused on the 'good' and 'bad' races here, so I thought I'd add a bit about what to avoid. You'll find a book in here, too. It's a journal detailing the different species of Azeroth that I came across when I was in Rachet a few years back...you don't need the details, I suppose.

Anyway, look under the entries for naga, val'kyr, quilboar, and centaur. I think those are the main ones. You probably won't even see any of those. Oh, be careful around dragons, too. While some of the members of some of the flights are friendly to people, it's probably better to just avoid them. And whatever you do, steer clear of the black dragon flight. They're real bad news. Just read the entry on dragons and you'll see what to watch out for.

Good luck, kid.

I stared down at the page, tilting my head to the side slowly. Black dragon flight? Did that mean the actual color of the dragon or was it like a gang name? Maybe they just had tattoos that indicated their affiliations?

Of course, that was when Brath got back.

As I watched his sleek black body land with a really big fish—like bigger than me, big—clutched in his claws, I was tempted to ask him what flight he was from.

Then it hit me.

That's why he asked for my help. Because I didn't realize he was a bad guy. Because I was so busy telling myself I was making unfair assumptions that I forced myself to trust him, ignoring my instincts that told me to run away.

I must have been wearing my incredulity on my sleeve, because even as he shifted to his human form, he gave me a puzzled look. Then he frowned and glanced at the paper. I didn't bother to hide it from him. Like I said, dragons are smarter than humans.

"You're from the black dragon flight."

He eyed the paper with new interest, like he thought it was about him specifically. "A correct assumption."

"And you guys aren't friendly, are you?"

Brath seemed to consider how to answer for a moment before trotting over to me. However, he paused to turn his back in my direction, and breath fire at the fish he'd set down. As the flames died down and I realized that that fish was probably beyond well done, he looked back at me and sat down, letting his meal cool off. "No, we are not 'friendly'."

"So, what?" I shook my head. "Are you trying to overthrow the government or...?"

"You are such an adorable little creature," he smiled at me and plucked the note from my hands. I didn't like that. Aside from the obvious condescension, he was checking how much I knew. So that he'd know how much he needed to tell me. Sure enough, he reached for the pack to read the book next. I gripped the bag to my chest.

"Just answer my question."

His amusement diminished as he eyed me.

He was going to get rid of me...kill me. I could see it in his eyes. He was debating it. Even as his expression grew calm and collected, like a psychopath caught in the act of killing someone deciding that another body to the pile wouldn't do any harm, I uttered possibly the most despicable thing I have ever said.

"I don't care what kind of monster you are. Get me to the draenei and I'll take your reins off, like we agreed. You're this world's problem, not mine."

What else could I have said? Kill me now? For all I know, I'm my world's last hope. Melodramatic, I know. And anyway, it's not like I can't just take it back when we get to the draenei. Run up to them and tell them I'm being attacked or something.

I can rationalize what I said all I want, but the really despicable thing is, when I said that, I meant it.

I really am losing myself.