"You did well my pet, you played your part to perfection." The voice was deep, booming, amused. A wave of dizziness overcame me as I tried to lift my head. It was chilly here; the floor was stone. It echoed…
Iltha's voice, sweet, demure, "I seek only to please you, Master."
"Manlings are so gullible."
My head felt like it weighed a ton; I saw crimson scales, overlapping. Claws. A… foot. Raising my eyes, I saw the rest of it. Firkraag. He was huge. He towered over me, and here I lay, at his feet. I couldn't move my limbs. My eyes focused, and oddly, I felt no fear. I felt… strange. Drugged.
"Why?" My own voice sounded hollow to my ears, insistent. From the corner of my eye, I saw her shrug.
"Because here stands a great lord, a lord of the skies, of fire. He doesn't neglect me or confine me like my father does."
"Last night–"
"Oh, you do interest me," she stepped into my field of vision; she was in white, dressed as a maiden, her smile radiant, adoring. "I've asked my master if we can keep you." She looked up at him.
"You drugged me," I croaked, still unable to move. Quickly, my mind worked, "The official," I addressed the dragon, "he was yours. You were behind the trolls."
"Very good!" The beast clapped his forepaws together in delight, "You are a clever little thing. Others have taken years trying to work out who was behind their misery. I'm afraid I had to simplify things."
"The knight–?"
"A distraction."
"I am here, as you wished."
"Oh, well done. Yes, I did wish to see you. And now I have." The dragon yawned, "Alas the time for games is at an end. As entertaining as this has been, I tire of it. Go."
"Why?" I frowned, my muscles beginning to loosen.
"Because I wish to see how things play out; I wanted to see what sort of god-child you were." Firkraag paused, considering, "You might outlive most of your siblings, but you will fall, I think."
"My captor? What role does he play?"
"So full of questions! You did not tell me he was this inquisitive, little flower."
"I didn't know."
"Tsk, tsk," he chided, "You'll have to do better."
"My captor?" I prompted patiently.
"Ah yes, him. Rather a bore, to tell you the truth. Oh, I'm sure he thinks highly of himself, as most manlings do, but he is simply another mage bent on revenge."
"But why?"
"Is that the only question you can ask?" He sighed, "Very well; I shall indulge you. He is an exile of the elves. Oh, you did not know this?" Another yawn, "Like you and your kin, he seeks to become a god, stealing what is not his." A sigh followed, "The mortal realm is so much more interesting; why anyone would seek to become a god is beyond me."
"Power," I said simply.
"Ah yes, I forget how little you manlings possess. Always seeking more. It is quite amusing really, but now our conversation really must end. See how my pet grows impatient? She is a jealous little thing. That is the trouble with you mortals: no patience. I suppose it comes from such short lifespans. Perhaps I will see you again, but I doubt it. Run along now; my pet will see you out." He cracked wide a draconic grin, "You may even sample her again, but I do want her back. So hard to scrub one's own back."
As far as I could, I inclined my head.
