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Valhen's Test

By Zatarra L Vulpe

The 'lair' was in sight. Sir Valhen felt something of dragon fear creep into his stride, but he was fortified behind his plate mail and shield. The armor was shiny, new, inscribed with many scenes of Valhen's personal victories. His head was exposed, his deep russet fur resting under clear, blue eyes. The benefit of his armor was his inability to waver, for any such thing would cause a misstep, a tumble, and he would fall most literally. Valhen kept this in mind as he marched.

The 'lair' was in fact a glorified hole in the ground, a cave, resting at the foot of a mountain. Valhen's muzzle curled in scorn.

"How could so terrifying a creature make residence in such humble estate?"

Sir Valhen drew his long sword and equipped his kite shield, engraved with three foxes on a blue and white background. The cave was already lit, torches resting every few feet or so. The cave wasn't even terribly deep, still perfectly breathable by the time the knight made it to the dragon's horde.

And such a horde it was. There was a massive gem resting in the center of the room that provided an eerie, silently shifting tint to the otherwise even lighting to the room. From smooth wall to smooth wall was piles of gold, silver, even coppers, bars of gold and jewels, even well decorated weapons and armor similar to his own.

"This must be all the gold in the kingdom."

"All the gold in several, 'Sir Knight.'"

The voice was oil over a wet stone. For all the gold's gleaming it sent a chill down Sir Valhen's spine. The trail led somewhere between two piles, a head nearly the size of Valhen's breast plate rose from the gold, suspended on a neck to nearly the ceiling of the cave. A pair of wings were resting, extended, over a pile before the creature stood, it's horns curling forward in a menacing way, muzzle thin and shrewd, scales dark as night. His eyes were scarlet, nearly wine red at the pupil.

"Oh, well, you're not whom I was expecting, though by your heraldry you must have a noble title?"

"I am Sir Valhen of Deneshire and I have come to slay a dragon."

The dragon's muzzle curled into a wicked little smile. "Really? And what dragon might that be?"

"Certainly yourself, as you have been terrorizing the good people of Deneshire of late."

"My word, I must confess I had no idea the people of Deneshire were so afraid of basking in riches and good harvest, though I suppose the way you've been shaken it must be true."

"You must speak lies."

"Oh I speak no lies, Sir Knight, for what use would I have with them?"

"To spread evil, as is your desire."

The dragon's voice was soft, but his chuckle resonated somewhere in the pit of Sir Valhen's stomach.

"Well? Am I wrong?"

"You are wrong. Do you want to know what I want, sir knight?"

Sir Valhen fell silent.

"The life of a dragon in his youth is rarely one of peace. Many creatures despise him, the scales on his hide and the wings on his back, the embers he may spit and the hungers he may have. A young dragon is not so much different from a young lamb, nor a young knight, it is where they are grown that differs. While a little lord such as yourself might find they are waited upon hand and foot, and even the little peasants and livestock may be reared by their own, for a dragon there is no 'other,' safety is found in one self or it is not found at all."

"Do you expect my sympathy?"

"I expect your ear: I wish to relax. I have taken residence in your beloved Deneshire for it is a peaceful place, with peaceful people. I want for nothing of them but a land in which I may hunt for game as I please and enjoy the skies without the whistle of missile or mage fire. As the people of Deneshire have provided this, I have given them no trouble and shan't in any haste."

"Then why have I been called upon to slay you if this is the case?"

The dragon's maw flashed shining teeth for only a moment. "As a dragon grows, he sheds his weakness, but not the fear others may feel toward him. Fear causes anger, which causes chaos, and generally a kingdom does not thrive on its own disorder. A king may either maintain his order or suffer in its absence, and while you may know nothing of kingship I assure you this is a thing many a king fears more than mine own breath upon his bare flesh. And so, the king must remove that fear to maintain his order."

"So you must die."

"I did not say that. It is as the treatment of a malady. One may remove the source of the illness, or one may treat it's effects. One may add an antidote or a soothing balm to ease the pain."

"Do you always speak riddles?"

"I speak so you may understand. A dragon may be slain by a single man, but it is not a sure thing in the best of cases. A dragon may be slain by a hundred men, and it is still unlikely to favor those souls. A dragon may face an army and could very well face his death... Unless..."

"Unless?"

"He routes the army, of course. It is not unheard of, even the larger kingdoms with grander armies than Deneshire have been taken by lone dragons, clever dragons, dragons that have great hordes and greater reputations. And of course, should his army fail, to where does a king turn? His rival in another land whom would turn him into a mere vassal? The gods whom have not shown him mercy on the field of battle? His people whom he has failed? His knights with nothing to expect from their lord but more years under his tenuous rule and titles about which to waggle the tongue?"

Sir Valhen glared at the beast. Surely these were lies, the world could not work in such a manner, not so long as he was a knight.

"Sir Knight, you are a balm, a treatment of a people's fear, nothing more and nothing less. It's not a terrible job, you know, I've known many a person within this very kingdom with less savory professions."

"Then I suppose you shall not simply lay down and die?"

"I'd supposed I'd made that abundantly clear. What I am trying to tell you is we have no cause to take arms against one another. In fact, please, take a seat where you may and I shall do my best to accommodate you for as long as you feel is appropriate for a 'battle.'"

"I shall do nothing of the kind, a knight does not sit idly by in the house of his enemy."

"Then why not be friends? I am not opposed to the idea, I've met many a reasonable knight, I dare say that many look forward to their visits to my more or less humble abode."

"You besmirch the honor of my king, my fellow knights, and even myself by such offers. I shall not allow this dishonor to stand, creature of darkness, you shall taste my steel before you are finished."

The dragon didn't roar, didn't spring into a pose of battle, simply frowned slightly, brows furrowed low below the root of his horns. Then his long, snaking tail drifted toward his pile of gold. The knight readied his shield and prepared for a blow...

That never came. The dragon had somehow wrapped his tail end around a book and had placed it in a pile before his eyes.

"Well, I'm certain I shall taste your steel, though not likely in the way you expect. You're certain you shall not be persuaded to see reason?"

"Are you reading? I have challenged you to battle! Dare you turn your back on your foe when he points bladed steel into your ribs? How have you survived so long?"

"Please, should I have desired your end I would have done away with you long before now. Your armor is weak, your sword is frail and you have no concept of how to overcome dragon fear, you walk into a cave created by dragon flame, of melted rock designed to vent such heat as from my breath and any whom stand within it, and you have challenged a dragon in what you believe a fair fight. I am lax, you sir have a death wish. Also, do you prefer pink?"

The knight stood puzzled as the dragon's eyes returned to the book.

"Well, too late then, I prefer pink."

"For wha-"

The dragon had continued speaking, though it was low and in a tongue Sir Valhen didn't recognize. The knight was losing patience; he drew back his sword and advanced with his shield another step when he felt a nasty shock from head to toe. His sword fell from his grasp and his shield clattered beside it. They landed before a pink cloth around the knight's ankles.

A cloth that was creeping up the knights armor.

The knight was at a loss for words. He could feel it, his muscle tone disappearing under silken cloth and frills. His fur felt strange, cleaner, softer. He watched plate mail disintegrate up to his waist as his body shifted underneath, even he was unsure what entirely was happening. He struggled, trying to find his way under the cloth, but he was so unfamiliar that it may as well have been a prison.

The dragon chuckled and looked on. "Well well, vanity in one form leads to vanity in another, I'm certain you shall find familiarity in your new role more than you expect."

The knight watched his gauntlet disappear under a silken glove, his fingers tightening and shrinking. The hard grip of his sword arm carried less of the edge trained to land blows and shove opponents, more of the delicate touch needed in the arts of courtship or holding a child. The glove ran the length of his arm and ended at a tuft of silken fabric near the shoulders, complementing the pink bow at his chest and the rough completion of an hourglass that was his bosom.

"Wha-what ha-" The knight coughed and hacked as his girdle frilled out and his Adams apple receded, hard steel and muscle becoming cloth and gentle fat. He was so soft, so smooth, he'd never been this way. "What's happening to me?!" His voice was a shrill, shrieking sound. He almost screamed at the sound alone were it not for how jarring it was. He'd always been taught to keep a level voice, not gruff but not effeminate, and his now undoubtedly tended toward the latter.

"I am removing the danger from you, as it were. Now you shall be less likely to find yourself on the wrong end of a sword with silly ideas in your head."

He shook as the wave of change finally overtook his head, his muzzle thin and fur light, his head fur left to grow and tied back with a bow. Something in his eyes changed, the bullheaded determination gave way to something else, something softer, sadder. "Wh- why?"

"I am loathe to resort to blows, if I am honest. You must understand things from my position. I have scattered armies, laid kings low by outliving them and outlasting their rule, I have lived a life of fighting with my own kind and with heroic knights who would rather throw their lives away than allow me to peacefully draw another breath. It's not that I didn't enjoy the thrill of battle and outwitting my foes, but all that grunting and roaring, spewing flames and smoke, it's old hat, it's boring now, not even remotely a challenge. That said outwitting my foes is certainly still enjoyable, even if it's merely changing them."

"N-no, you can't."

"I can, I have."

The dragon rose from his pile of gold and allowed it to slip harmlessly from his back, the clink of metal coins dripping onto each other resounding as the former knight cowered before the dragon. The dragon, however, merely curled himself before the door and lased, his tail tossing the knight's blade into a pile and his mouth nudging the shield into another.

"Listen, Sir... Well, I suppose 'Lady' Valhen now, don't look at this as a punishment or a curse, but a gift. Rather than needlessly ending life, perhaps you might begin some, or at least forge a bond between Deneshire and one of its many competitors, and you may still go on about honor and duty and all that noble such and such as you please."

The Lady stood, running for her sword and pulling it from the gold pile. She turned with it in hand and it slipped from her fingers almost immediately.

"Aww, good try though."

She bent downward, put off balance by her new proportions and nearly tripping on her hem. The weight of the sword had never worn on her as much as now, she had to wrap both hands around it, and even then. She raised the blade and brought it down onto the dragon's tail.

The sword practically jumped from her hands, the force of the blow jarring it from her fingers. The dragon looked at his tail and watched it twist and turn.

"Hmm, not a scratch. A shame, but certainly not unexpected given your physique. You poor girl, you're going to wear yourself out that way, what having lived a life suitable to sedentary pursuits and courting noble boys."

"But I haven't, I am a knight!"

The dragon's muzzle cracked into another smile. "Not anymore I'm afraid. The spell I've read assures you are now, and have always been, a maiden fitting of your station, at least in body. Were I so inclined I could have made you a common girl of any particular profession I had chosen, perhaps a wench at a public house? But no, the idea of this is far more amusing to me."

The lady stared at the dragon a little longer and felt what the dragon hadn't said outright: he'd won. She felt something ache inside her. The dragon's tail drew around her and held her close to him as her vision grew blurry, a sob rising in her chest.

"Aw, there there, you have so many things to look forward to! Your fellow maidens shall be thrilled to have your company, you'll likely have so many things from the king's tailor you shan't know what to do with them all, and never forget the courtly romance. You'll be doing many of the things you used to do Lady Valhen, with the mild addendum of wearing cloth rather than steel. Perhaps, someday, if you're persistent in your courtship and marry appropriately, you might end up a queen with her own little clutch of princes and princesses."

The former knight simply wept into the dragon's scales until she'd fallen asleep. The dragon quietly placed her on a nearby bed, for guests, formerly that of a king, and drew the drapes around it. The dragon then retired to his own gold pile and continued reading the spell book, now curious as to its other contents.

"Hello? Venuatharax?"

The dragon raised his head from the book. "Oh my, is that Sir Barathor I hear? It's been so long! Where have you been old friend?"

The knight was tall, stout, carried a vicious looking axe and wore deep, red armor. The black stripes on his head were greying with age. The badger had a neat scar running under his eye from nose to cheek, a sword wound, dueling. His hard expression brightened when he saw the dragon.

"There you are Venu, how have the years been to you?"

"I can't say as I have right to complain, always a good spot of game and a good bit of fun to be had."

"Oh if only I could say the same, it's all 'formal occasions' now, no one's bothering the lord or the people and I'm to be in court until they're tired of having me on display."

"That is most sad to say, though I can imagine they would do much the same to myself."

The knight laughed heartily, but then noted the shield.

"Oh my, so the boy's been here already."

"Indeed, did you and he have some business?"

"No no, he just had notions in his head when he heard a rumor about you being around. He was a headstrong lad, not the brightest of them."

"Well, I'm certain he shall be a most agreeable lass."

"You're a kidder."

"Oh no, do meet the maiden herself, assuming she's awake."

The knight followed the dragon's tail as he slipped open the drapes a few inches or so, the spectral light filtering over the maiden's light locks.

"You see?"

"My goodness, you're a sorcerer as well?"

"Oh come now, I can manage a trick every now and then."

"She'll be this way permanently?"

"Rather."

"You can't change her back?"

"I didn't say that."

Barathor gave the dragon a rather cross look. "Come on now friend, you know this will cause quite a stir."

"I'm sure it would."

"You have a plan?"

"I do, it shall require that we do battle, of course."

"Oh naturally."

-

In the end, Sir Barathor the Dragon Slayer was renowned for taking another dragon's head with his massive axe. While none remarked that the skull looked suspiciously like the previous ten that sir Barathor had brought as proof of his exploits, they did note that the knight had taken sick and was to be allowed out of court as he recuperated from what many suspected to be his last battle.

Of course, Sir Barathor had not gone to the dragon alone. Sir Valhen had reached the dragon before him, and in his eagerness had fought with the strength of ten men his age. Unfortunately, the dragon had lain a curse on him, one that changed him into a fair maiden before the fight was done. The dragon had intended to make off with her and do any number of evils with her fair form, but Sir Barathor triumphed before such a thing could come to pass.

Unfortunately, this left Lady Valhen to be, well, Lady Valhen. Many of the finest mages in the land were brought to see if they could lift the curse, and many of them said it could not be done, that the magics used in the curse were too powerful for any of their number to break. However, it was said that there was a great artifact, a blade that could remove the curse. Bejeweled in fine pearls from pommel to blade tip, the mere touch of such a weapon would cure Lady Valhen and return her to the knight she once was.

Until then, of course, she would be treated as any other maiden. She would be taught as any girl of her station would be and returned to the side of the king until she should either be touched by the sword or consent to courtship, wherein the curse shall remain forevermore.

This rare occurrence is Valhen's Test, where a person of nobility may choose their path rather than have it chosen by destiny or their betters. The lords and ladies of the Deneshire court balked at the idea, of course, but when asked how they might have chosen given this choice they fall silent. It is not a question easily addressed, and thus the answer is never truly expected unless the situation itself should actually arrive.

As for Lady Valhen herself, she did eventually 'pass' her test: she fell in love with a young prince from Illenhold and eventually became one of their most beloved queens. Queen Illenhold would eventually mother five children, three daughters and two sons. She was known for her beauty, generosity, kindness, capable leadership and her honorable conduct in all things.

She was, of course, also known for keeping occasional confidence with a man from a far off court. One with raven black fur and scarlet eyes.