TWO FOUR SIX EIGHT WHO DO WE APPRECIATE? COFFEE! Just kidding, I prefer tea. We're exploring the dynamic between our two lead characters in this chapter. Some strange things are going to happen, please just bear with it because it will be explained later. Anyways, I'm updating earlier because I'm working on a cover. We'll see how that goes. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! -MAG

I heard a gentle cooing grating against my ears. The first sound of consciousness was not dissimilar to a mother reaching out and comforting her young dragonet. I didn't mind the benign soothing humming, but the voice had a jarring undertone, something rather familiar.

I was back in the cave with Stream, who stood over me, inspecting my wounds. The wounds I had received from careless flying when I let my guard down. I should've paid attention. Constant awareness and discipline, lessons drilled into a guard's mentality from the first day of training, and I had forgotten it in a crucial moment.

"Gee, looks like you had a rough tumble."

Rough tumble was an understatement. Even in this ephemeral world, the pain still persisted. My neck ached, my back grumbled, and my wings had gashes all over. At least I had had the right notion of curling in to brace for impact, that was something I had remembered from training.

"Auster my dear," Stream asked, "what did you do? How did you end up like this?"

I groaned and forced myself to turn over and face the SkyWing, who appeared concerned, a slight frown on her snout.

"I crashed," was my simple response.

"My dear, these wounds look serious. You must've been going really fast," she noted.

I was starting to remember more of the events prior. I had been looking at Bering, to see how far ahead I managed to get. There was the friendly competition, the panicking, the argument before, the first jump into the wind flow, the journey to the mountains.

But how much of it did I want to share? My training said to share nothing. Dying silently was better than betrayal of tribe secrets. However, Stream wasn't an executor, or a soldier. She wanted to help me. Avoiding the truth didn't mean lying. Perhaps I could divulge a few trivial details.

I yawned, realizing too late that there was a scratch along my jaw, and I snapped my snout shut in pain.

"Oh my, don't stress yourself. Take your time. I want you to recover properly, then you can tell me all about your grand story," Stream said respectfully. "I'm used to waiting, I'm patient. I'll fulfill both sides of this conversation for today alright. You just listen and nod your head sometimes. That way I still feel like someone cares."

I nodded.

"Good, that's more of a reaction than I get from my own children," she laughed. Then she cleared her throat and sat straighter. "The SkyWing kingdom continues to rot and fester. The Queen, despite her valiant efforts, is surrounded by fools. The theatre formerly used for boring shows, was repurposed into a new-fashioned arena for combatants to duel. However, the ungrateful tribe has shown little interest, instead, they continue to complain about working conditions and the ongoing war.

The food situation is dire, the hunters have been skirting the edge of the sea recently and have come into conflict with the SeaWings. This is why I said that the SkyWings are busy in the sea, leaving their northern and western flanks vulnerable. While the south is defended by loyal MudWings, they are hardly effective. If say the IceWing tribe were to launch an all-out offensive…

Never mind that. That's a whole bunch of looney news, onto more important things. Things are dreadful here, there are no shops, no proper accommodations, and worse, no servants. I have to do everything myself! I hate it. I feel as if my scales are dull and unwashed, and my claws. Poor claws. I need to have them trimmed soon or they might fall off. You wouldn't happen to know how to trim claws would you? You seem to have lovely claws yourself."

I did not mention that my talons were twice the length of hers, and instead, shook my head.

"That's alright. Next time I see that little young orange pipsqueak I call my daughter; she's going to hear all about the poor condition of my talons. Hopefully, I bore her to death. Then I don't have to hear her go on about 'proper ruling' and 'not setting disobedient dragons on fire.' But that's enough, I think I have bothered you enough today.

Generally, Stream was a very pleasant dragon to speak too. She acted genuine, like she wanted a good friend to confide in rather than a pawn to control for her own means. At the end of our meeting, I felt a twinge of sadness that she had to go. But with a wave of her talons, Stream was gone, and I was thrust back into a world of pain.

It was dark out; the sun had long disappeared, and the only light came from two of the moons shining dimly in the sky. I was in some kind of hollow bed, lined with grass and moss, not as comfortable as the furs back at the palace, but palatable.

I tried to rise to my feet and found that, with enough effort, I could laboriously stand and roam around. All my limbs ached with a dull pain, but that was nowhere as terrible as the constant agony of my torn wings. I turned my head around to examine them, gashed and cut, flight was probably out of the question.

"You're awake! Congratulations on not dying." a small voice squeaked beside me. The bothersome SeaWing was lit up her scales, allowing me to make out her outline in the dark environment.

"Death would had been better than the failure and embarrassment I have to endure now. And all the pain," I noted dryly.

"Oh, the medicine was supposed to keep you asleep for longer, but I guess since you're so freaking big, I forgot to adjust the dosage for body size."

"You put WHAT into me? Are you trying to poison me, you sneaky, lying lizard, I ought to…" My voice trailed off, when a blade was suddenly thrust under my throat, right under the jugular.

"You are ungrateful, even after my mate saved your life, you're still threatening her," Caspian purred into my ears. "Now go apologize to Manta dear or I will ask her to inject you with actual poison."

Surprised at his outburst and with the very convincing blade right on the edge of my lifeline, I decided since nobody else was watching, a meaningless apology would not be the worse decision.

"I apologize, Madame Manta, for my rash judgement. Please forgive me for any injuries or slights you have endured."

"Now ask her nicely for the medicine," Caspian hissed.

"Madame Manta, would you be kind enough to prepare some medicine for me?" That request I spoke with more sincerity than the first.

"Sure thing!" The SeaWing brightened up, apparently satisfied that I had acknowledged her existence as more than a slug and busied herself with rummaging through some stashes of supplies.

Caspian removed the blade, and indicated for me to sit down, which I was more than happy to oblige, for fear of retaliation.

"What is your true purpose?" he asked.

"What do you mean? I am Bering's assistant. We are here on a scientific mission."

"It seems to me that you are not of the scientific type," the praetorian replied bluntly. "Your posture indicates you were a guard, and the earring holes tell me you were sixth circle. Promotions from sixth to third circle don't happen. Tell me, whose snout did you rub to get this position?"

"I didn't rub anyone's snout," I asserted indignantly. "I was chosen for my talents and abilities."

"And what are those talents and abilities?" he asked naively.

Truly, I had no answer for that. I was just a regular guard, disciplined and obedient, I followed commands to the letter. But I was ordinary, nothing set me apart from the other guards. I didn't participate in the parties, I had no special hobbies, there was nothing unique. Except perhaps my longer horns and large wings, but what good did that do for Bering?

"I can fly fast," I said.

He chortled. "You may fly fast, but perhaps a better talent would be flying through trees. Or invincibility, you seem to be fine despite having a fish brain."

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that," Manta interjected. "Auster, even though I was further behind, I swear that the crash looked much worse than the injuries you sustained."

"I can't fly with these torn wings, I would say the injuries are rather severe," I stated harshly.

"Sure, but your skull didn't split open and you didn't impale yourself on any branches," Manta noted. "Maybe Casp is right, your superpower is crashing through trees and not getting hurt. Anyways, here's the medicine. I'm afraid that it will taste quite bitter."

She handed me a vial of foul smelling liquid. I drank it in one gulp, choosing to swallow whatever poison she had made before Caspian had another opportunity to embarrass me.

Immediately, I felt drowsy and the world spun, but after a moment of delirium, my vision cleared, and I was alerted by a tingling sense running through my veins. A stimulating sensation ensued, like thousands of tiny worms crawling under my skin, boiling and roiling en masse.

I watched incredulously as the minor scars in my limbs faded and the membranes of my wings patched themselves together, leaving only faint scars as evidence of my accident prior. The worm sensation continued, spreading through my talons, up my horns, down my tail, healing, repairing my body before fading.

I leaped onto Manta, pinning her down. "What kind of sorcery is this?" I demanded. There was no way a vial of medicine had instant healing capabilities.

"I don't know!" she cried out.

Caspian hauled me off of her. "I know what's in that vial, and it definitely didn't cause you to heal all of a sudden. My mate is magical, but not in that way. Maybe you should tell us what tricks you're using."

"But I didn't use any tricks! I'm not animus," I bellowed. "Watch this, I enchant this rock to fly up and explode." The rock in question failed to move. "See? I'm not up to anything."

Caspian growled. "Witch. You couldn't possibly be animus either, IceWings haven't had any in the past thousand years. Still very suspicious though."

"I did put in extra willow bark, if that's of any note," Manta piped up meekly, fidgeting her talons. "I tried it with Typhoon when he fell down and it seemed to work better. Maybe that's the cause?"

"Impossible," declared Caspian. "Willow bark is a pain killer. It worked on Typhoon because that little rascal has a lower pain tolerance than this fully mature palace guard. The medicine only kept Typhoon from crying incessantly, it didn't actually speed up the healing process."

"Well, nothing else changed," Manta insisted. "I used the exact same formula I always have."

"Which is why her miraculous healing is all the more suspicious," Caspian stared at me intently, as if staring would suddenly reveal the answer.

It didn't work, we were still as clueless as before.

"Strange," muttered the praetorian. "We're not going to solve this case by interrogation. Go back to sleep, Auster, we'll deal with this in the morning."

I huffed in irritation, but I plodded over to Bering's side. While I didn't distrust the IceWing SeaWing couple, it never hurts to be a little wary of strangers. Bering's calm form, his chest rising and lowering slowly, gave me an effective barrier to separate myself from the inquisitive and nosy Caspian.

It also gave me time to reflect. Stretching my left wing out after settling down, I inspected it carefully for any damage. The scars from my injuries were already receding, disappearing as if I had never crashed. The scrapes along my torso and back had healed, and nothing felt hurt or painful.

But I wasn't an animus. Telling rocks to turn into gold only left me disappointed, and according to Caspian, there hadn't been any IceWing animus for centuries. The last one had been a royal, and I was certainly not affiliated with any of the nobles.

My thoughts drifted back and forth between the miraculous healing and animus power, but after hours of staring at grass, I was no closer to an answer. There was no magical power, my body just healed, and not that I was complaining, but I was just as frustrated as I was during the worms sensation.

The sun eventually crept over the horizon, illuminating the mountains and plains with warm, pleasant rays. Beside me, Bering awoke from his slumber, stretching and rising from his prone position to bask in the dawn.

"Did you have a good night's rest?" he inquired. He had yet to notice the lack of bruises and cuts on my body.

"No," I responded honestly. "I and your friends spent the night being stumped. Though now that you're awake, maybe you can help us with this dilemma."

"Sure, what's the problem?"

I spread my wings for him to examine.

"Huh. Looks like you're all healed up. I always knew that Manta was good with her remedies."

"Thanks Bering," the small SeaWing sidled up by my side, "but this not the work of my medicine. No treatment that I know of works that fast. You weren't awake to see it, but Auster's wounds healed basically instantly. No scabs or new skin underneath. It looks like she never sustained any injuries at all."

Caspian trudged over to join the discussion. "Bering, how exactly did you find this … apprentice?"

"She was a guard, she applied to my recruitment program and I hired her," said Bering, baffled by the overall conversation.

The praetorian narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure she was 'a guard?' I saw the healing myself; it doesn't follow any natural process. Manta can back me up on this. What I witnessed was unnatural. She is unnatural. It's like animus magic."

"Three moons, Caspian, you don't actually believe those old stories do you?" Bering laughed. "Those are just stories. Even if there were any animus dragons, they're long dead. They and the snow monsters have equal likelihood of existing."

"Then how do you explain this?"

"You know my opinion on these things. Nature is the best magician, she holds the best magic for herself."

Caspian hissed in annoyance. "Whatever. Maybe it was a trick of fluke. I don't care anyways." He flicked his tail, indicating that he did care, at least a little.

"Bering," I said, catching his attention. Mink's cryptic messages did not help with my confidence and I really wanted to know the truth. "Why did you hire me?"

"For your talents and abilities of course!" he replied hastily.

"The ability to crash into trees and not understand your work. Those sound like very useful talents. I don't want you to make up excuses to mollify me, I want to know the truth. Why did you hire me out of all the qualified applicants? You could have hired Tusk! He's stronger than me. Or Mink! She's actually smart, and probably follows orders better than me."

"Tusk is annoying, and I don't think I could bear being around my sister all day. Like I said, you're a strong, intelligent individual. I need someone to be brave, confident. Mink told me you were the best shot in the entire platoon, never missed a shot."

That was true. I always aced the spear aiming contests. However, that was hardly a useful skill for Bering's complex calculations with symbols that I had never even seen before, or a simple flying test that I failed.

"But I'm not even contributing to any of your projects. Everything I do impedes your progress, I'm just not competent compared to your expertise," I said bluntly.

Bering rose up on his hind feet and roared loudly and furiously. "You are NOT incompetent. Whoever told you that? I will jab them with a spear! FINE. You want to know the real reason? It's because you were the cheapest. The only guard with no political connections, no favors to fulfill, no gold to bribe."

I stared at my employer as he panted and recovered from his outburst. So what Mink had said was true. I was nothing more than a pawn, a sucker whose only purpose was to keep the council off his back. Worthless, useless, insignificant. that's all I was. I sat back on my haunches, crushed. I had held on to a tiny sliver of hope that I was of some importance, not just a bumbling idiot, but it was gone.

"Auster," the skinny IceWing sighed, reducing his tone to a mellow, apologetic voice. "I didn't mean to say that. But I will not have my partner choke themselves to death because they feel insignificant and meaningless. I sold my bracelet and several large diamonds just to acquire you. If you don't want my sympathy, then surely you can find solace in the resources spent on your hire."

"Dumb, stupid aristocrats. I always knew there was something fishy with you and all your weird quirks." I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist. That was my cost. My worth. All I did was mess up and slow down Bering, what use did he have for me?

"Stop, you're circling back to that mindset again," Bering commanded firmly. "You are my partner, and thus obliged to help me."

"Of course, even though all I do is crash and muddle your plans," I fumed bitterly.

"Maybe you ought to be more aware of your surroundings," he pointed out, "but with your large wings, I was able to better observe the effects of the wind. You carve through the air beautifully when you find your rhythm."

"Carved through the air into a tree, yes."

"Forget about the crash. You don't even have any scars." Bering tilted my snout up to look into his eyes. "Don't ever forget that you're a valuable dragon, capable of incredible things."

I looked away. "That's a lot of compliments for someone who doesn't deserve them."

I heard my partner groan dismally before stepping away to converse with the other dragons, leaving me alone to wallow in despair.

-Don't be that way.

Oh great, look who finally showed up to the pity parade.

-I'm not too late, am I?

Just on time to witness my agony. Perfect timing.

-Bering cares about you.

Like a pawn. I'm only alive because it keeps the council from being too nosy. It's true, I have no talents.

-One, you do have talents, and two, so what if that's the case? You're living a much more comfortable life, doing interesting things, meeting interesting dragons. Would you rather be stuck as a guard your whole life?

At least I wouldn't be anyone's plaything.

-Bering doesn't play with you. He respects you, treats you as his equal. You said it yourself, he's a genuine dragon who appreciates your opinions.

That was before he burned me with that metal for a quick joke.

-He was just having a bit of fun. He promised he wouldn't do it again, and he's kept his word so far. If there's anyone in the higher ranks you can trust, it's Bering.

That's the thing though, is there anyone I can trust?

-Me.

Really reassuring.

-How about this? If you want to prove your worth, come up with your own plan. I see you had an idea earlier. It does you no good to keep that idea circling around in your mind.

It's a stupid idea. I'm going to make a fool of myself if I even mention it.

-Doesn't hurt to check. Worst that could happen is you get rejected.

That's precisely what I'm trying to avoid.

-Just ask.

Will it get you to shut up and stop being so pushy?

No response. Walrus had gone silent again. I hesitated, the indecisiveness welling up inside even as I took a small step forward.

"Auster." Manta's soft voice stopped me from taking another step. She sat down by my side, fiddling with a vial in her talons. "It must be shocking to hear that news."

"I don't want any of your pity," I said crossly.

"I'm not giving you any pity. I want to understand you better."

"Too bad, if you're still wondering about that healing, then I still have no idea what happened."

"I've moved on from that," she laughed merrily. "It's just one of the strange things in life. However, there's much more interesting things about you."

"Like what, my ability to not pay attention?"

"That's not unique to you. I know many dragons who could do with being more attentive. But about you, there's some questions I want to ask.

"I can't guarantee that I have all the answers."

"Alright. Can you spread your wings fully?"

What a strange request. Harmless, though. I complied.

"Hmmm." Manta poked my right wing, causing me to hiss in reaction. "Looks like your reactions are functional. Everything is completely healed and works as it should."

"Is that all you wanted to see?" I drew my wings back delicately.

"Yup."

"You're really strange."

The SeaWing smiled up at me. "I guess so, but you're just as strange and fascinating. Very impressive wingspan, much wider than Caspian or Bering. Speaking of which, I wish the best for you and Bering, especially after your spectacular flight last night."

"Spectacular crash," I corrected.

She shook her head earnestly. "Spectacular flight. I was watching from behind and all I saw was a beautiful form conquering those air currents like an expert. I've seen Bering try this route many times, yet he's never flown through it with such grace and control as you did."

"That's very high praise."

"That's an observation," she corrected.

"Do you think Bering would listen to me if I had an idea?" I blurted out abruptly, almost knocking over Manta with my wings.

The SeaWing considered the question thoughtfully before answering. "Bering is not a proud or brash dragon. He's one of the few dragons I know that doesn't work solely for his own benefit. Even if he disagrees with you, he will certainly make an effort to listen to what you have to say."

I nodded. "Thanks, I need to tell him something important."

"Sure thing. I'm confident that he will want to hear your ideas."

Plodding over to Bering, I gulped in air, desperately trying to remain calm and composed. "Bering," I squeaked slightly higher pitched than I intended.

He turned around, his fury having abated fully.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," he answered unflinchingly.

"I have a plan that I think we should follow."

"As opposed to a plan you don't think we should follow?" he joked. "Tell me."

"I have a hunch that there might be something useful nearby. I saw a small oak forest when flying here that I think we should investigate."

"What's so riveting about an oak forest? There are plenty of trees around."

"This is where you have to trust my instinct. I felt something odd when we flew past it, like there was something that didn't want to be found residing there."

To his credit, Bering didn't scoff or outright reject my plan immediately. He did seem quite unconvinced, however.

"It's close by, we can check it on the flight back."

Bering stayed silent for a tense moment before tilting his head back with a frown on his snout. "You're sure about this strange 'feeling' you had?"

"Absolutely." I tried to posture my shoulders to appear confident.

"Then I suppose there's no harm in giving the place a cursory glance. Might find something useful," he shrugged. "But I will only agree to this on one condition."

Of course he had a catch. Nothing was ever easy in life. "What?" I asked nervously.

He glared at me intently. "Stop being so harsh on yourself. You made a slight error and you just keep bashing yourself for it. From now on, I don't want to hear anything about incompetence or other self-identified failures because all you do is tear yourself apart when you encounter a trivial obstacle. I will identify your failures for you and advise you on how to improve ok?"

"Of course," I breathed in relief.

"Well then, we should say farewell to our friends and get a move on, because it seems we have some business to conduct," he replied, his signature goofy grin returning to his snout.

We did a have a plan. And I, a clumsy guard, had come up with it all by myself.