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Curse of the Dragon
Chapter 12
Dissonance

Ahiru had a list of final wishes—a few things she wanted to be done after she passed on. Maybe she was too young to have a will, but she had unique circumstances, and Fakir told her to write down all of her last requests. She thought it to be a nice idea.

The paper sat on her table back in Wyvern, unassuming and plain. Her handwriting had always been on the messier side, so the lettering could hardly be called graceful or neat. In addition, she didn't even finish the list, having only written two of her wishes before Rue ushered her out to practice more ballet. But her wishes were earnest and simple: give Mytho her letter, take Uzura to the beach, visit her parents' graves, feed the ducks in her pond …

… Things she thought she would never get a chance to do. Wishes that she entrusted to Fakir.

And she spent so long down in the darkness, wondering, considering, and accepting. Freeing a whole community of people who deserved to see the sun, allowing Mytho to find someone else to be a better queen and wife, and seeing her parents again … It wasn't a fate she wanted for herself, but it was a fate that would be better for everyone. This was what she could do for the world. She wasn't good for anything else.

So she didn't deserve this gift.

Ahiru let her eyes fall shut, the clean, cool wind tousling her bangs and caressing her freckled cheeks. The early morning sunshine warmed her skin and her heart, and all of the overwhelming fear and sadness that bubbled and built up inside of her over the past month threatened to spill out as tears from her eyes, pushed out by a swelling gratefulness that she shouldn't have.

It dawned on her that, just a few hours ago, she accepted that she would never feel the sun on her skin ever again. Her eyes stung, her chest hurt, and she hated herself for feeling so free, so happy, so thankful in this moment.

This moment wasn't supposed to be for her. It was supposed to be for Wyvern.

"The sky-zura! We're up in the sky-zura!"

At this, the tears did fall, tumbling down silently, and she could no longer hold back. She smiled exuberantly despite the sobs threatening to wrack her form. At least this moment belonged to Uzura, too.

Up until then, Ahiru couldn't even begin to register all that happened in a single evening. The night before, Fakir led her up the long tunnel, her legs burning from the trek. Neither said a word, too out of breath as they were. Before long, they reached the white roots of the oak tree above.

The roots spread smoothly, opening the way like a curtain pushed from a window. The twinkling stars welcomed Ahiru, the pearly glow of the grass and the white oak wood framing the outside world. Unlike the stagnant air beneath, the breeze swept through and around her in a cool embrace, and she shivered from the sensation.

Fakir, his hand still securely around hers, helped her step onto the surface and keep her balance while Lamp fluttered curiously ahead of them to take in their new surroundings. Ahiru took a moment to gaze up at the leafless tree as the gaping hole that led down to Wyvern closed up behind them.

Edel. All this time, she'd been here. Though Ahiru had seen the white tree before, this was the first time she felt like she was truly meeting her. She turned her gaze to Uzura, who still slept on Fakir's shoulder.

"Here," he suddenly said, taking a couple steps forward, "hold her. Hurry."

She picked up on the sense of urgency in his voice, suddenly reminded that they didn't have much time. Without protest (as she hardly could tell if this was even real), she took Uzura into her arms, letting the little girl rest her head down on her own shoulder. Fakir strode a few paces away to give himself room.

Then, he paused and turned to look over his shoulder. "... Don't look, alright?! I don't have any spare clothes." With a grumble and a blush, he made to lift his tattered shirt over his head.

"Eh? Oh!" Her eyes caught sight of the scars marring his toned chest before she whirled around to give him privacy, her face glowing red.

Right. He needed to transform, and he didn't have any extra clothes to wear when they arrived in Vineta. He must not have planned ahead.

… Fakir didn't really have a plan at all, did he? He just acted for some reason that she couldn't possibly fathom. And she acted with him.

What made him suddenly change his mind about everything?

Her hold around Uzura tightened and Lamp fluttered over to press her tiny hand against Ahiru's cheek to comfort her.

Then, the roars came. She heard the rustle of cloth, the shift of something heavy against the grass, and when the cracking of bone and ripping of flesh echoed across the valley, she grimaced and closed her eyes, hoping with every ounce of herself that Fakir's transformation would be swift and his pain brief.

Before long, all was still, and then she felt a breeze of hot air from behind her. She looked over her shoulder, her lips parting when she saw him.

This was the same, towering monster that kidnapped her all those weeks ago: obsidian scales still glinted menacingly; horns and spines still sprouted painfully from his head and back; green and yellow eyes still bore down into her own; the long, heavy tail still swung in large arcs behind him; massive, leathery wings still stretched and flexed, casting dark shadows across the ground; and with the dragon's every breath, hot air blew past her, some smoke emitting from his nostrils.

Yet, he wasn't the same monster, either. While he terrified her to the core upon their first meeting, she understood the intensity of his gaze now, and knew that when his wings stretched above her, it was an act of security. Of safety and protection.

He lowered his head, his neck craning down so Ahiru could reach him. She placed a hand on his scaly snout, balancing Uzura against her with one arm. "Fakir …?" Was he sure about this?

As if he knew what she silently asked, he answered by reaching out with one, large set of claws, inviting her to climb on. He was sure. It showed in the sudden softness in his green eyes.

She didn't think on it any longer.

She clumsily crawled onto his hand as best as she could with Uzura in her arms and swung her leg over the side of his long, scaly neck, sitting on the smooth area at the base of his nape before the protruding spines along his back began. Lamp flitted effortlessly through the air, plucked Fakir's discarded, ragged clothes into her tiny hands and hefted them onto Ahiru's lap where Uzura remained snuggled comfortably in her arms. The lady bug nestled into the crook of her arm, and held on.

Finally, with a great, heavy beat of his dark wings, the grasses rippled and shifted in the bursts of wind, and they took to the night skies.

Ahiru only glanced back to watch as Edel and the white valley disappeared beyond the treetops and rolling mountains, glowing distantly in the darkness.

Later, as the sun began to appear at the edge of the horizon, Ahiru had to shield her eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness. The light hurt, so used to the dark as she was. She hardly knew how Fakir could continue flying at this rate.

But when her eyes finally adjusted and her vision cleared, her heart gave a bittersweet clench in her chest. And that was when Uzura awoke.

The absolute joy in Uzura's expression and the life in the little girl's eyes brought tears to Ahiru's. Fakir, who'd been flying slower than he had when he'd initially taken her from Vineta (undoubtedly for the safety and comfort of those on his back), turned his head to glance over, looking far less vicious with his eyes so warm.

Lamp's tiny, bell-like voice tittered sweetly from her position in Ahiru's hold as Uzura threw her hands up into the air, her little fingertips reaching for the clouds above them. "Ohhhhhh! The sky-zura!"

Ahiru wiped the moisture from her cheeks and laughed, fully and heartily, her voice escaping into the air as she let the exhilaration take her away from the worries and the questions. Those would come later.

She felt hope again. More than she had in a long, long time.

And as if Fakir knew, he gave a great heave of his wings, his speed picking up in excitement, trusting Ahiru to hold onto Uzura and Lamp while the child squealed in delight and thrill.

The pinks and the blues and the whites and the yellows streamed across the skies like ribbons, and though she knew she didn't deserve it, though she knew that she wasn't good enough for this world, and certainly not worth Wyvern's loss, she just … couldn't help it.

It was all wrong, yet she was so, so happy to be alive.

Rue leaned over the basin and poured water from a pitcher over her head. Delicately, she washed out her thick curls, rivulets of water dripping down her pale neck.

However, she felt numb to the cold sensation, and it did little to wash away the lingering regret.

Many years passed since the last time she enacted her powers. She and Fakir were always so careful—so cautious. However, for the sake of Wyvern, her reservations against it had to be put aside.

Her legs quivered and she gripped the side of her table to keep from collapsing. She'd forgotten how exhausting and draining it could be—just another reason why she refrained from using her powers. Her ability was taxing on her body, and she pushed herself too far yesterday. Dancing for an entire village to open their hearts and minds to Elder Raven's influence took almost all of her energy. And then, she was forced to dance before Fakir.

She saw the betrayal in her brother's eyes, and the way his fierce expression slowly eased into a relaxed state as she twirled on her toes, her muscles burning and aching from the strain. Fakir resisted strongly and she found it difficult to break him down, but he'd always been infuriatingly stubborn and she should have expected that from him.

By the end of it, she won. She was able to be of use to Elder Raven.

But at what cost?

Raven's plan was … brilliant. It gave her a sense of hope, validation, justice for all of their suffering, a way to keep Edel alive in their hearts. Protecting the world would give Rue a purpose.

And, as Elder Raven said, it would give her the chance to be loved. Truly loved. Like Giselle, so passionate and fortunate to find such a thing, regardless of her ultimate fate—vanishing in a flash of light after twenty-one days of freedom.

Rue wrung her hair out over the basin, trying to gather her strength with deep, composing breaths.

Yes, this was for the best. Elder Raven promised her she would find happiness in this way, and only in this way. "No brother will abandon you," he said, "No man will see you as a mere object. No so-called friends will look upon you with pity. Rue, my daughter, aid me, and you will find love in the world. This is the only way. No one can truly love you otherwise."

She was so tired of loneliness.

Running an old, broken comb through her hair, she stumbled back to her bed and sunk down into it, resting her weary muscles and tired spirit.

Using her powers against her brother was … necessary.

Fakir never understood her, and she never understood him. They were both so isolated from the rest, each born with an ability to change the world, weighed down by the inherent responsibility in their potential. Perhaps, as children, it kept them together as true siblings. However, years later, when darkness swallowed all that was good and light, and their very worlds crumbled, neither could recover what was lost.

She and her brother were so alike—stubborn and proud. Yet, so different as well.

Rue yearned for comfort and acceptance, while Fakir, like the fool he was, actively estranged himself from everyone. Elder Raven was right—Fakir was too selfish. As if he was the only one who lost something all those years ago. As if he was the only one to lose his friends and his confidants and everything he used to love.

Giselle disappeared in a flash of light, miles and miles away from where Rue remained pathetically hidden in the darkness. And her brother left her to pick up the pieces while he hid away in his shame.

As Elder Raven said. All of this was Fakir's fault.

However, he was still her brother.

And in betraying him, she betrayed Ahiru as well.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest at the thought of the sacrifice who became someone more. Undoubtedly, Fakir must've bound her last night. Ahiru would be kept in isolation, and Rue saw to it that no one would seek out her company for the remainder of this horrible curse.

Perhaps, if Rue was quiet, she'd be able to pay a visit to her.

… Elder Raven would be absolutely furious.

Rue's hands clenched in the tattered fabric of her skirt. Perhaps Elder Raven had been correct in assuming Ahiru enacted some bewitchment or sorcery upon her and some of the others. Freya, Malen, and especially Hermia were particularly difficult to sway against protesting to Ahiru's strict confinement. Likewise, Uzura visibly adored her. It must've been some kind of spell.

Why else would Rue feel such regret and despair?

Maybe this was one thing she and her brother had in common: they both fell prey to Ahiru's influence more than anyone else.

Rue's composure crumbled and she buried her face in her hands. She was so … tired. She hardly slept the night before despite how much she pushed her body and spirit.

She dropped the broken comb and allowed it to fall to the floor as she rested her head on the thin, ragged pillow, uncaring of the drenched state of her hair or how her tears stained her sheets.

"—Rue! Rue!"

Her blood ran cold at Autor's frantic voice. She quickly wiped the wet streams from her cheeks and sat up, looking as dignified as she could before he burst in, shoving the fabric away from her door. His eyes were wild and his skin pale. "What is it?"

"The sacrifice—she's not here, is she?!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Damn it … damn it!" Autor bolted back outside, and she quickly put on her slippers to rush after him.

Outside, the villagers trickled out, worry and dread lining their features while Autor scrambled from hut to hut, agitated and distraught.

Meanwhile, Elder Raven, once again, stood in the center. And the hairs on the back of Rue's neck stood on end at the sight of him. His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes …

The pure venom, the lethality and piercing, cold fury in his blood-red eyes left her stricken.

"Elder …?"

"You failed, Rue. You've failed us all."

Her hands trembled. "... I—Elder, I don't know what you—?"

"The sacrifice is gone. Fakir and Uzura as well."

At this, her legs finally gave out, having gone through too much abuse these past couple of days, and she collapsed right where she was.

Ahiru, Fakir, and Uzura left?

But she surely … her dance must've worked! It always did!

She brought her quivering hands to her mouth, still in shock. She heard voices above her, but they couldn't overcome the swimming chaos in her mind. How could this all have happened? And so close to the final day.

Autor's desperate words and Raven's frigid tone echoed mutely in her ears.

"What now?! Why now?! Fakir's a fool! He's doomed us all! We only have twenty days—!"

"Just enough time for him to keep her away from us without disappearing in a flash of light. He must have considered that. The timing was ideal for him."

"How did Rue's dance not—?!"

"She is weak. Autor, find them. And do not rest until you do."

"I—You want me to go out and—?"

"No. Chasing will take too long. Write and find them through history, and then we will overwhelm them with our numbers. You located the sacrifice before, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, but Fakir was the one who tracked down her location from what little I could find out! I don't know exactly where he found her! And … I've been writing for days, Elder, and it's too recent! I don't know if I can—!"

"Do not argue with me. The fate of Wyvern is on your shoulders. And Rue."

She didn't even look up when Raven addressed her.

"... You are just like your brother. A pathetic disappointment. How can anyone love you now?"

It was only a matter of time before Uzura grew too tired and hungry to continue on, despite the joy she took in the flight. When she began to whimper and her stomach growled against Ahiru's hand, Ahiru reached out with the other to gently stroke the scales on the back of Fakir's neck. "Fakir!" she cried out over the winds, "Ah, um, I know we're in a rush, but I think Uzura needs to stop for a little bit! C-Can we take a break?!"

Fakir arched his head back, large green and yellow eyes meeting hers before they glanced at Uzura, inspecting the little girl's state. He seemed to understand, his eyes softening, and faced forward to begin a gradual descent.

Ahiru braced Uzura and Lamp against her as Fakir dipped beneath the clouds, moisture cooling her cheeks as they passed.

When the clouds cleared, the expanse took her breath away. Forests and hills dotted the earth far beneath them, and all was green as far as the eye could see. It looked to be about midday, the sun high, warm, and welcoming on her cheeks. And the winds grew gentle now that Fakir started to slow down.

Ahiru's smile widened as they glided closer to the ground, the plains stretching out to the edges of sight and beyond while Fakir swiftly sliced through the air with his great wings.

It was like sprinting across the plains, very fast, very free.

Finally, he came to a slow stop at the edge of a quiet patch of forests, his beating wings blowing gusts of wind that rustled the trees and sent birds fleeing. He touched down to the ground.

Uzura, who'd grown impatient and antsy, wiggled excitedly out of Ahiru's hold and leapt carelessly down from Fakir's neck. Thankfully, Fakir caught her safely with one clawed hand and placed her onto the grass, so Ahiru didn't have to panic.

"Ohhhhh!" Enraptured by her surroundings, Uzura twirled around and scampered closer to one of the nearby trees to poke at a few wildflowers that grew next to its roots. Lamp followed, dutifully guarding her.

Ahiru had a harder time getting up after sitting for so long. She winced at the aches in her muscles and struggled to heave herself to the ground. Fakir rolled his large eyes and reached back to help her, and she gratefully stumbled onto his hard, padded palm. "Ah—thanks!" She plopped down clumsily to the grass, still cradling the bundle of Fakir's clothes in her arms, and let the circulation back into her legs while Fakir's towering form stretched out and scanned the immediate area.

"Fakir-zura!" Sprinting over, Uzura grinned and her eyes glittered. She hopped up and down in excitement while pointing to a tree that bore red fruit, patting his scales to get his attention.

Wyvern didn't have apples. This must've been an entirely new world for her.

Ahiru laughed as Fakir raised a scaly eyebrow and lifted a claw to shake the apples from the branches. When dozens of the large, red fruits dropped to the ground, Uzura dashed over.

"Ah! Careful, okay, Uzura? Apples are hard and crunchy!"

"Ohhhhhh! Okie dokie-zura!"

"Fakir, why don't you change back and rest a little, too? Must've been a long time since you've had an apple!"

Despite his monstrous form, she could still make out the deadpan look in his eyes as he glanced at the wad of the clothes still curled up in her hold.

"Eh? Oh. Oh!"

Oh.

"Gyaaah, I'm so sorry!" Heat rushed to her cheeks and, impulsively, she hurled the ball of fabric at him, the clothes flopping uselessly over his snout.

Petulantly, he plucked them from atop his nose and puffed hot air in her direction before stalking off toward the thickness of the trees (mindful not to accidentally swing his tail in their direction). She turned around to give him privacy, giving her attention instead to Uzura and Lamp.

They'd taken to sharing an apple, Uzura testing the texture and taste on her tongue with delight. Ahiru sat beside her, watching Lamp weave wildflowers into a crown for the little girl. "Ducky-zura," Uzura began curiously, "where are we going-zura?"

Ahiru hesitated. "Um … I guess back to where I came from."

"How come-zura?"

She wasn't sure. She didn't know at all. "I-To visit, maybe? I don't really know. It was Fakir's idea."

"Ohhhhhh! If it's Fakir's idea, then it's definitely a good idea-zura!"

But Uzura didn't understand. Even Ahiru herself didn't understand.

Distantly, Ahiru could hear it—the snapping of bone and the pained, muffled grunts from behind a line of trees nearby. She bit her lip, her fingers trembling on the apple she held while awaiting for Fakir's struggles to end. Maybe asking him to change back was too much for him. Would it have been easier and less painful to remain as he was?

Soon enough, he stumbled into the clearing, wearing his trousers but still holding his shirt in his hand and wiping sweat from his brow. Ahiru should've averted her gaze immediately, but …

… The sight of the scars marring his form weren't unfamiliar to her. She recognized the violent gash that swept from his shoulder to his hip, but his opposite shoulder sported a new one—large, almost shaped like a star, where he'd been injured during Autor's transformation trying to save her.

And there he was, saving her again, for reasons she didn't know.

His scars terrified her once. Now … seeing him like this, toned and firm despite the old wounds across his broad shoulders was …

"What?"

"Eh?" Once again, she felt like her face caught fire when she met Fakir's tired, confused stare. She jumped to her feet, waving her arms back and forth as if trying to rid herself of whatever she'd been thinking just now. "N-N-No, no, no, it's nothing! Definitely nothing at all, I was just worried about you because you were there for a while, but I get that it hurts every time for you, so I didn't mean to stare, I promise I meant nothing by it, so—!"

Uzura blinked owlishly up at her. "Ducky-zura?"

"Ahhhh, don't worry, I'm fine, hahaha!"

"Idiot," Fakir sighed, seemingly too drained to press the subject. He took a seat on a mossy patch on a fallen log, rubbing the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders. "We can't stay long. I think we're just a couple of hours away from that castle of yours, as long as there are no changes in the winds."

"... Right. Yeah, we should probably hurry. Maybe as soon as Uzura finishes!"

"We're going to see Ahiru's big castle-zura!"

"Yes! We're going to see a castle!" Recovering from her earlier embarrassment, Ahiru meandered forward and offered Fakir the apple in her hand. "Here! You need something to eat more than any of us!"

He took the offered fruit and bit into it, chewing slowly, almost considering its taste. He probably wasn't used to it.

When a few seconds of silence passed, Ahiru sat beside him on the log, both of them keeping an eye on Uzura and Lamp as they ate.

There were so many questions …

"Fakir?" She lowered her voice so Uzura couldn't hear. When he didn't give her a verbal answer, she continued. "I … why did—last night, how come—why did we leave?"

What happened, what changed, and what pushed Fakir to do something so drastic out of nowhere?

He glanced away. "Don't worry about it. The important thing is getting you away from there. Your prince will keep you safe. I may need you to look after Uzura for me while I draw them off and figure something out before—"

She straightened, her eyes widening. "W-Wha?! No way! You can't do all of this alone!"

With a scowl, he shook his head, staring bitterly down at his half-eaten apple. "I have to. I made the decision to bring you back."

"What for? I already made a promise to all of you, and now …!"

Fakir grit his teeth. "It was a promise you shouldn't have had to make."

"I just want answers! You've always told me what I've always needed to know!" She hardened herself, giving him the fiercest pout she could manage without looking ridiculous. "So just tell me why!"

He stared at her for a long moment, challenging her pout with a glare, before he finally relented. "Raven. He planned to turn us all into true dragons—keep our forms under control, as soon as the curse lifted." He gave her a significant glance, his expression hardening. "As soon as we killed you, he'd use us all to get his stupid revenge on everything else in this world. You would die for nothing."

Ahiru felt the blood drain her from face.

"He's already got Rue convinced that this is for the best. And having Rue under his control means he has everyone under his control."

… Rue's dance. That was right. Rue was known to dance so beautifully, she could sway a person's heart to whatever she wished of them.

Fakir said something to that effect last night. That somehow, whatever Rue tried to do, it didn't work on him. And that was when he took her to the entrance, and they escaped with Lamp and Uzura.

Was Raven really capable of such a thing? Ahiru never liked him, and constantly felt so unsettled just being in his presence, but she never imagined that he would want something like this.

Then again, her own ancestor was capable of horrible things, too.

People like that actually lived in the world. People who only wanted power, or revenge, or to take and steal and hurt, just because. There were people with unimaginable selfishness, with terrible intentions that Ahiru never would've even dreamed of in her short, simple life. These people existed, and would always exist.

… But there were good people, too.

There were people like her mother—generous and giving, who nurtured with warm embraces and smiles. There were people like Pique and Lilie—silly and dramatic, but with genuine tenderness and joy. There were people like her sweet, wonderful Mytho—kind, responsible, and gentle, who led with strength and honesty.

And even in the dark, deep abyss, she found sweet and compassionate Hermia, tenderhearted and intuitive Malen, serene and mild Freya, and innocent and curious Uzura. And, no matter what Rue might've done, Rue was caring and kind. Just like her brother.

Ahiru's lips set into a determined line as she looked at Fakir.

There were good people like Fakir everywhere in the world. Even in the darkest places.

Wasn't that worth protecting?

Weren't they all worth saving?

Fakir raised an eyebrow. "Are you spacing out again?"

"Fakir! You're definitely not alone!"

He blinked, not following.

"You're not doing this alone! When we get to Vineta, I'm sure we can figure it all out together, with Mytho! We'll save everyone from disappearing, and keep the world safe, too! I don't know how, but—but we have to!

"You said yesterday that you'd change this fate. Well, I wanna change it with you!"

Fakir's lips parted, and a strange look crossed his features. It was a slight shift in his eyes, maybe amazement, or awe. "Ahiru …"

Before either of them could speak again, Lamp fluttered up and crossed Ahiru's field of vision, blocking her view of Fakir. The lady bug looked concerned and pointed in Uzura's direction.

They turned to see Uzura, curled up at the base of a tree with her knees to her chest. The child's bottom lip trembled, her large eyes rippling with brimming tears. In an instant, they were on their feet and striding up to check on her. "Uzura—?!" Ahiru dropped to her knees beside her while Fakir knelt down on her other side.

With a sniffle and a hiccup, Uzura wrung her tiny hands in her skirt, blubbering. "F-Forgot my drum-zura …!"

"Oh …" Ahiru sadly bit her lip and looked at Fakir. He didn't seem to fare any better, guilt marring his face. He'd probably forgotten her most important possession in his rush to leave, the last gift Edel gave to her daughter before …

Evidently, Fakir realized the full gravity of it.

Ahiru stood up, forcing a smile. "Ah … we can go back and get it soon! But for now … how about we get another one? Just for now! L-Look, don't the branches look like … like drumsticks? Right? Ahaha ..." It might've been a ridiculous idea, but it was the only one she had.

He glanced up in question, before catching on with a small smirk (and Ahiru couldn't help but be astonished by it). "Yeah." He got to his feet and rubbed his chin in mock-thought, staring up at the trees. "What do you think, Uzura?"

Uzura rubbed her eyes and followed their gazes. She sniffed, but her expression lightened. "Ohhhhh …"

Ahiru reached down to take Uzura's hand. "I don't know how to make a real drum, but we can get one from Mytho when we meet him, I'm sure!"

"This is a good start," Fakir added, lifting an arm to lower a branch so he could snap off two thin sticks. Then, he offered them to Uzura. "Here. Use these for now. Drum on my scales if you want, and don't worry. We'll get your real one back." He paused, giving Ahiru a rather meaningful glance. "We're not leaving it behind."

We're not leaving anyone behind.

A warmth swelled inside of her, and she happily nodded in agreement.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked, "Do you think we can keep going?"

"Mm! Let's go back to the sky-zura!" Uzura bounced on her heels, her happy mood returning. Lamp likewise buzzed about excitedly.

Right. For everyone in Wyvern, and for everyone else, they'd take to the skies again, and go see Mytho. This was what she truly wanted. This was why Fakir saved her. Didn't he say …?

No, he didn't say this was the only reason he saved her.

"I only needed one more reason to save you and Raven gave it to me!"

… What were his other reasons?

"Hey, idiot, you ready to go?"

"Ah … yeah! I'm definitely ready!"

Well, she'd ask him about it later.

Karon and Raetsel perused the bookshelves for other tomes and volumes while Mr. Katz pored over the materials already on the grand table. Lysander remained with his knights on the training grounds, distracting Prince Siegfried with sparring and military strategies. It was all they could do for their prince at this point.

It served to be quite the endeavor considering the sheer size of the library itself. Shelves towered for three stories and extended onward, the room larger than the vast ballroom on the other side of the Grand Chateau. They remained in the nonfiction sections toward the back of the hall, their eyes growing tired.

Mr. Katz sighed, polishing his reading glasses. "A ritual, involving rose petals and candles," he muttered idly to himself in consideration, "Miss Raetsel, if you would please come here for a moment?"

She did as he asked, bringing two more books with her and placing them on the growing stack in front of him. "Yes?"

"Do any of these symbols on this page look familiar?"

Her eyes scanned over the images, glazing over five-point shapes, circles, and triangles in varying combinations and sizes. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Katz. He sat in a circle of candles and petals. That is all I can remember. I apologize."

"That's quite alright, Miss Raetsel." He sighed and reached for another open book. "The bull is the animal of Rungholt's royal family?"

"Yes," Karon answered, coming forward with several scrolls, "Such as the swan being the symbol for our own kingdom."

"I see, I see." Mr. Katz flipped through a few more pages. "The bull. A symbol of strength and royalty—no doubt they selected the bull for this very reason. It is also known that a bull's blood was often used in sacrifices and rituals during ancient times." He paused to pick up a quill, dip it into the inkwell beside him, and write this down. "It would not be beyond the realm of possibility that our dear Prince Femio comes from a long line of wizardry. Though, I cannot comprehend why Rungholt waited this long if they had such powers all this time. Why now?"

Raetsel, who sat across from him and unraveled one of the scrolls, glanced up. "Mr. Katz, look at this."

Mr. Katz's yellow eyes narrowed as he took the scroll from her hand and glanced across the words. "Yes, yes, the Raven Constellation, its formation predicted by the legendary wizard, Drosselmeyer. It appears that it will align sometime this year—this month, in fact." He wrote this down as well.

Karon busied himself with a rather heavy leather-bound book. "Constellations, roses, bulls … Is it possible that these things can be connected? Seems like quite the stretch."

"Yes, a stretch, perhaps. Unless Prince Femio and the kingdom of Rungholt descend directly from D. D. Drosselmeyer." He stroked his mustache. "We cannot afford to disregard any possibility. After all, several of Drosselmeyer's acts and miracles were known to be performed with rose petals. I think we may be getting closer to having our answers." The scholar stood. "I suppose I'll have to look for any volumes containing the wizard's name. Perhaps there is some way to combat spells of this sort—some documentation that can shed light on how these things all connect.

"But I feel as though there is still something we are missing. A key piece of the puzzle. Though I know not how to begin to find it."

Raetsel and Karon stood to join him in his search, but he lifted a hand to stop them. "Ah, but first, I think I will have a snack. Have no fear, I need no escort; I will send for one of your lovely maids—ah, the majority of them are unmarried, yes?"

The housekeeper frowned and Karon pinched the bridge of his nose.

General Lysander frowned at the prince beside him, his shoulders heavy.

Prince Siegfried sent word to withdraw the knights he'd sent out in search of Lady Ahiru. He'd decided to pour the entirety of his forces into this war. Evidently, the prince believed it was a waste of manpower otherwise. Lady Ahiru was dead.

While Lysander didn't want to believe it, it was the only logical conclusion. Plans for a funeral would soon be underway.

He focused wholly on the knights lined up before him in formation, catapults, trebuchets, and ballistas situated next to the battalions. Displeased with this turn of events, Lysander felt a migraine coming on.

It was the first time he disagreed so strongly with Prince Siegfried's judgment, but the general was under the impression that a defensive strategy would be most wise in this scenario, where the odds were greatly stacked against them. But with the these siege weapons and Siegfried's direct order to hit Rungholt before Femio and his forces could act, it seemed that defense was no longer the goal.

He needed to keep Siegfried's attention on this, however. That was the agreement he came to with Karon, Raetsel, and Mr. Katz. Though he wasn't privy to their plans or their theories, he agreed that Prince Siegfried changed into someone else altogether.

It showed in the way he fought, the way he led, the way he planned. He grew abrasive and violent, almost accusing in his manner, to the point where the knights questioned their charge for the first time.

But what could be done?

Disheartened on a level he'd never felt before, Lysander stepped forward to address his men, ignoring the way his skin prickled when he felt the prince's unusually and chillingly sharp gaze on his back.

However, before he could speak, Sir Demetri stumbled forward, frantic and shaking. "Look, sir! Look to the sky!"

Gasps and murmurs permeated over the courtyard where the knights gathered as they turned their eyes skyward. Lysander followed in confusion.

"It's a monster! A winged creature on the horizon!"

"It's coming this way, it's coming this way!"

"Northward! Look northward!"

Lysander felt his mouth go dry, his eye finally catching on the beast in the sky, quickly nearing them—black and foreboding, like a shadow encroaching into the daylight, with ghastly wings and a long, monstrous neck and tail. A creature born from nightmares.

The seasoned knight, who had seen a great deal of battles and hardships, froze, petrified on the spot.

A dragon. It was a dragon.

Prince Siegfried stepped forward, his pinkish eyes burning and piercing, his lips curling into an uncharacteristic snarl as he glared fiercely up at the approaching monster.

And Lysander remembered then, the information they'd been given a month ago. Lady Ahiru was spirited away by a dark monster, northbound.

So, the general made no attempt to protest against the prince's next command, his words cold and icy, and full of unmasked hatred.

"Shoot it down. Destroy it!"

"It'll be so great when we get there, Uzura!"

"Ohhhhh!"

"Mytho's city is beautiful! And everyone's so nice there! It's really peaceful and I think you'll really love the castle!"

Uzura tap-tap-tapped against Fakir's scales excitedly. "Are there apples there, too-zura?"

"Lots and lots, if that's what you like!"

Ahiru recognized these rolling hills. She flew over them a month ago on the Pegasus-drawn carriage when she traveled from Hedeby to meet her prince. They were almost there.

"Soon," she said, cuddling Uzura close while Lamp tucked herself into a nest within Fakir's clothes, "you're going to see the big towers, and the lake that the castle sits on. And the big, big town that surrounds the grounds. It's so great, Uzura! You're really going to love it, I think."

Maybe, now that Fakir was here for an entirely different reason, he'd come to love it, too. Idly, she pressed a hand to his neck, patting him gently.

Soon enough, as she said, the lofty towers of the Grand Chateau reflected the afternoon sunlight, its crystalline brightness matching that of the clear lake that surrounding the palace.

"Ohhhhh! It's so pretty-zura!"

However, Fakir released a low growl, the rumble vibrating down to his nape and startling Ahiru. Did … did he sound mad? Or worried?

She leaned over, squinting toward the castle to see what concerned him so much.

She didn't expect to see lines and lines of people—knights?—within the castle grounds. They were organized in neat blocks while loading up large contraptions she didn't recognize, especially from this high up. And from the way Fakir slowed his flight, he was worried about … something.

They didn't expect to be spotted this far out. Fakir wanted to land close enough without drawing attention, but they were in a rush and Ahiru assured him that Mytho was peaceful, understanding, and—!

Fakir released a bellowing roar and reared back as some kind of sharp-tipped projectile sliced through the air, almost piercing his wing.

With a scream, Ahiru latched onto Uzura and Lamp on instinct, losing balance and rolling right off his back. The wind left her lungs, breath escaping her entirely as Fakir deftly twisted around to catch them in his padded palms.

What's going on?!

Fakir pitched forward, cradling them close as he avoided another bolt. Smoke billowed from his nostrils as he maneuvered as best as he could while under this sudden attack. All Ahiru could do was keep Uzura and Lamp curled safely between her and the dragon's bodies.

Were they prepared for an attack of some sort? It looked like they were getting ready for some kind of battle, and now …!

She heard Uzura cry out and Lamp's wings shudder in fright as Fakir suddenly dove forward, and she clenched her eyes shut in preparation for the rough landing.

Time froze and her body went numb as Fakir's body collided and rolled into the earth. He kept them safely in the cocoon of his hands and chest, but her head spun from the impact and shuddering movement. The world slowed around her as his claws loosened, releasing her, the child, and the lady bug into the air.

She couldn't catch her breath as she barreled into the ground, turning over and over before she came to a stop on the ground, her body aching everywhere and her chest heaving.

Dully, she heard Uzura's frantic voice calling out for Fakir, and felt Lamp's warm hand rest on her cheek. "I-I'm okay …!" Ahiru croaked, forcing her eyes open. "U-Uzura—?!"

Though her vision continued to spin, she could make out the little girl, thankfully standing beside the prone dragon a few yards away. When the haze on her mind cleared somewhat, she saw that Uzura's knees were bleeding, and the poor girl was crying, but otherwise, she seemed okay—!

Lamp cast a warm glow on her face, comforting her. Ahiru let her eyes fall shut as she attempted to gather what little strength she had. She heard the muted sounds of Fakir's pain in the midst of her own, his monstrous roars melting into moans of torment as he changed back into his human form.

She struggled to lift her head, focusing her gaze in Uzura and Fakir's direction. Their blurry figures shifted, Uzura scrambling around to gather his clothes from where they must've scattered several feet away and delivering them to him. His motions were slow and lumbering as he pulled on his pants to cover himself, but in his rush, he didn't bother with his shirt. Instead, he stumbled toward Ahiru, his breaths heavy. "A-Ahi—!"

But the ground rumbled with the force of dozens of heavy footfalls, and there was yelling, and clanking …

Finally, air returned to her lungs, her vision cleared, and time sped forward again, her body finally orienting itself just as Vinetian knights surrounded Fakir and Uzura. The little girl clung to Fakir's leg in fright.

Ahiru opened her mouth. "W-Wait—!"

"Ahiru! Ahiru!"

… Mytho.

Ahiru's lips parted as she felt him gather her into his arms, the embrace warm, affectionate, and protective … everything she associated with her prince. Her eyes swelled with tears, her heart burst, and relief flooded through every inch of her very being.

She truly believed she'd never see him again.

"M-Mytho …!"

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes a brilliant gold, worry and sheer relief lining his forehead. "Oh, Ahiru … you're here. You're safe! I thought I'd lost you—that I'd never see you again! I never should have left you alone!"

A few other knights rushed to her aid, leaning down to help her up from the grass. Her body still throbbed from her ordeal, but at least her head stopped spinning and she could stand up straight. Even then, she found herself leaning against Mytho for support, marveling that she never thought she would get this chance. And likewise, he held her tightly, holding her to him and burying his nose in her hair.

But … this wasn't the reunion she'd dreamed of.

Everything she'd gone through these past few weeks crashed down upon her all at once, and she remembered why she was here. Who she was. What she'd experienced. She wasn't the same, silly duchess as she was before. She was changed—for better or worse, she didn't know.

It was that reminder that had her looking back toward Fakir and Uzura.

"Nnngggggaaaaah!"

"F-Fakir-zura!"

Ahiru stared in horror as Fakir dropped to his knees, his eyes wild and body shaking. Somehow, in those short moments, the knights shackled him, and the skin around the irons began to glow red and smoke. Lamp instinctively shrank away from the chains, her glow dimming, as if knowing they would hurt her, too. Uzura, distressed, attempted to pull the shackles away from Fakir entirely. But, as if stung by the same magic, she dropped the metal with a high-pitched whine, her palms reddened as if burned.

"N-No, Uzura, don't touch it!" Fakir barked through his pain, his teeth grinding beneath snarling lips.

Ahiru didn't know why, or how those shackles could hurt them like that, but they'd gone through too much.

Wrenching herself away from Mytho's hold and the rest of the knights, she bolted past them all and dropped to her knees before Fakir, overwhelmed, distraught, and simply too weary of everything. And she didn't care if she was being unladylike or improper in front of Mytho. Things weren't the same anymore.

She yanked at the chains—simple iron, doing her no harm at all—and cried out toward the nearest knight, "T-Take them off! They're hurting him!"

Mytho, stunned, stepped forward. "... Ahiru …"

"Please, Mytho! They saved me! They brought me back! They didn't do anything wrong!"

Fakir's muscles began to spasm.

"Mytho!"

The prince's eyes, previously so brilliant in its golden hue, dimmed into a strange pinkness that had Ahiru blinking a couple of times to see if she was just imagining it.

"... Well," he said in a cool tone that shocked her, "Lady Ahiru claims they saved her. So, what are you waiting for? Release him, Sir Demetri."

The knight, one of the youngest Ahiru had seen, immediately stepped forward to unlock and unlatch the metal from Fakir's wrists. And as the irons fell away, his skin returned to their natural shade. She immediately reached out to cup Fakir's cheeks in an attempt to calm him before he lost control. "Fakir? Fakir, it's okay, it's okay, see? It's alright …"

Though he shuddered and twitched, he leaned into her touch, taking deep, composing breaths. Uzura whimpered and sniffled, rubbing at her eyes before she stepped forward and cuddled into Fakir's side. He weakly curled his arm around the little girl, his shoulders relaxing.

It dawned on Ahiru that they had an audience, and she stood up, shielding Fakir, Uzura, and Lamp from the Vinetians. She wasn't much of a protector, but she had to do her best. Her eyes sought out Mytho's, though the sudden frigidity in his eyes unnerved her.

Was he feeling alright?

"Mytho, they … they're my friends! They brought me back. I … there's so much that happened!"

And she had her own share of questions, too. These knights all seemed prepared for something. Were they simply waiting for her return all this time?

The prince lifted a hand, an amiable, yet cold, smile touching his lips. "Of course, of course. Certainly, you must all need your rest. I apologize for our … eagerness. But there have been new developments this month. I suppose we need to catch up."

… There was something different about Mytho. She couldn't place it.

"Then," he continued, nodding to his guards, "please escort our new guests of honor to the Grand Chateau at once. They deserve every ounce of our hospitality."

"Your Highness, are you certain that—?"

"Of course, General Lysander. They brought back my beloved fiancee. Why should we not welcome them with open arms?"

Demetri helped Fakir get to his feet, the latter still rubbing his wrists anxiously. But as they passed the prince, Fakir paused in his step, taking Uzura's hand while Lamp sat on his shoulder.

The dragon's eyes met the prince's, neither saying anything for several seconds. Ahiru didn't know what to make of it.

Finally, Fakir spoke. "... I need ink, paper, and a quill."

He wanted to write? Now?

"Certainly. As my princess's rescuers, you shall have all that you desire."

Fakir briefly glanced over his shoulder at Ahiru, his green eyes unreadable, before he, Uzura, and Lamp followed Sir Demetri toward the village.

"Shall we, my lady? You must have injuries that need tending to."

She blinked out of her reverie, her eyes wide as Prince Siegfried appeared beside her, that smile still on his lips.

He truly did seem … off. It must've been her imagination.

Disregarding the strangeness, she nodded her head, trying to just be thankful to be by Mytho's side once again. Curling her arm around his, she leaned against his shoulder, and let him lead her back to the walls of Vineta.

Things would fall into place … wouldn't they?