FSE

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Chapter 12

Veledar padded his way through the halls of Fremra's keep, making sure his breathing was regulated and calm. The lantern lit hallways seemed to be staring at him, almost knowing that he wasn't supposed to be here. At his side was Merlia, adorned in her fur clad garb, green eyes ever filled with fire.

“So, remind me what made ya think this was a good idea?" She remarked with a growl as they came to an intersection. “So much that you left your dragon whosits?"

“Drahkras." He growled, nudging her forward, “And it's a proper name for increasing one's spell casting. You might know that if you weren't trying to get on my nerves."

“Oooooo, think I can't get on yer nerves now, all mister calm and organized." The dwarf cast up her hands in mockery, letting the dragon guide her down the hall. “You be dodging the question red boy, why ya sneakin away from yer training?"

“Why were you loitering the halls, talking to yourself." He rose his head, cocking it to one side. “One might assume that you were snooping."

“I wasn't snoopin ya suspicious lizard." She dismissed him with a wave, ignoring how he growled at such a label. “Halls are like a maze, nothing like home mind ya, now there was an organized network of tunnels."

“Dwarf lost underground? Now I think I've heard everything."

“Oh, if we were to explore the underground roads of me home red boy, you'd see how capable I was!" Merlia huffed as he continued along, “But no, we're here in strange human construction. Bet they didn't even use worthwhile stone!" She had to stop and take a deep breath, all while under the amusing gaze of a tail swishing dragon, “No, promised meself I'd not get into a rant about it again. Now tell me, why did ya play blasted hookey with yer teal mommy?"

He tossed his head with a groan, even if it might grant her a bit of joy, “She's not my mommy. I thought you'd have at least the concept of a teacher Merlia. Each day you seem to ever try and disappoint me."

Hands went to her waist, jaw tightened as he gaze narrowed. “Spit it out red boyo, or I be running and tellin on ya."

The dragon's head went up, frills pinning to his snout. She wouldn't dare. Yet even as he growled she held a confident grin, like she had him bested in some fashion. Now that wouldn't do. “Go ahead, make good on your threat." He huffed, tail flicking behind him, “But we'll be mighty interested why you were talking to yourself, I'd not known madness to strike you."

Again her cheeks burned red, the dwarf muttering something under her breath.

“What was that?" He grinned, knowing victory this time was his.

“Nothing you ruddy beast!" She took a swing at his lowered snout, cursing when he retracted it, leaving the dwarf to hit nothing but air.

“And poor reflexes too, why do I employ you again?"

“Give me a bow and we'll see how slow me reflexes are!" She stomped after the snickering dragon as he stayed just out of her reach. It wasn't until they reached the next intersection until she gave up the chase, having her glare daggers at the now smirking dragon. “Don't think this means you won."

“Feels like I've won." He huffed, casually looking away, “I'm here…Not being touched, you're there surrendering. Yet, you've not run to tattle on me."

“I did get lost alright!" She blurted out, veins bulging on her head before she grew reserved, “It's not something dwarves are supposed to do."

“And I shall relish in my victory."

Resting upon his hinds, Veledar rolled a paw to his scaled chest. There he closed his eyes and fawned in the imaginary praise that was laid upon him. Her gnashing of teeth and insults were nothing more than an added bonus to this moment. He finally sighed, waving to her with a paw, “Since you were being so truthful to me, I'll share about my visit." The dragon rose, dragging along the beet red faced dwarf with his tail, “It involves a little thing called the armor of the tempest. The one personally worn by the Swirling Storm in his campaign against the undead agents of the terrible vampire Ventix."

“You're kidding me." Merlia replied bluntly as the dragon happily recounted the dozen or so battles that Storm had been pivotal for. “You're a fanatic! Hero worshiping the dragon."

“And whats wrong with hero worshipping?" He stopped, casting a judgmental filled eye upon her. “Those stories helped shape my youth, inspired my brother, sister and I.

“And that makes it alright that you want to steal his armor?"

“Well, steal is a strong word."

“The correct one in this case."

“Not so." He snorted, ignoring the way she smirked upon him. “Arcturus refuses to leave on this little crusade of protection, so what does that leave a dragon to do? Fremra mentioned it once or twice, and she surely isn't using it. Someone has to!"

“Bah." The dwarf scoffed, “Fancy words and excuses for what I see plain as day, you want it because it's valuable."

He gasped at such an accusation, “Merlia, I'm rather hurt of such a statement. Do you think so little that I would long for something so valuable? Something that rare that would be the envy of any other dragon that saw it? That my hoard would be the talk of any who heard of it?" He growled and glared as she offered him only a sly smirk, curse her. “Well, good for you for knowing it." He lashed his tail and strode past her, “Stow your little lips and I won't tell anyone you were snooping around."

“I wasn't ruddy snooping!"

“And I'm not trying to steal the armor. I'm more…" He waggled a wing, “Borrowing it."

“I don't think you know what definitions are lad, borrowing means you intend to return the blasted thing."

He chuckled deep in his throat, “Dragons live for hundreds of years Merlia. I think I could have it for a few."

The explanation only made Merlia groan ever more, checking over her things to make sure she hadn't misplaced a thing. “Still can't believe you be stealing from your widowed teacher." She clicked her tongue, “Thought better of you dragon."

That was it. The red dragon wheeled around, revealing his teeth with a wicked snarl. One swipe of his paw saw the dwarven ranger ducking her head and avoiding it. His blood was boiling as she reset herself, dusting off her leather tunic. “I'm borrowing from her." He said harshly, tail lashing behind him. “Don't frame it the other way."

“So I can get on yer nerves." She replied, meeting his gaze with her own. “Should I be concerned you weren't playing right there?"

“I wouldn't have hurt you."

“Right. But just so we're both sure, after the adventure and this borrowing, I'll be sure to remind ya to return it. You know, that way we don't think too ill of ya."

He could only growl with an accompanying tail swish. Their little venture ended as they rounded a corner, coming a door. It was taller than twice of Veledar's height, encased in elven runes from the base to the top. What it was constructed of he assumed red-wood, the surface was pristine, lacking the evidence of magical forging. It smelled of magical wards, that left the dragon's spine ever tingling. Before this sight were a trio of guards, two humans and a wolven. Each of them was clad in shining platemail, armed to the teeth with whatever weapons they requested. The air around them was stern, dignified, what one might expect on Fremra's chosen.

“So, tell me big and growly, what ya going to do without your talking diplomat?" Merlia whispered from behind, grabbing hold of one of his hinds and leaning out to see. “Threaten to beat them with yer paws?"

“Tiring of the dwarven method?" He remarked in a whisper.

“Yea, that's what I'm getting at. How will beating our allies senseless work?"

“It was a joke." He replied sarcastically, “Obviously I'll talk to them, make them see reason. If that doesn't work, only then do we resort to dwarven negotiations."

The dwarf had a smug grin, “OOOo, this I'd like to see. The supposed silver tongued brute talkin his way past a trio of mortals without layin a paw on them." She nudged at his side, “Bet ya ten gold ya can't. These lads seen dragons since they were wee things, your big and scary routine don't work on them."

“You think betting me for so small a sum would work on me?" He huffed condescendingly, “Please, I'm a dragon."

Merlia reached into her pouch and pulled out four platinum coins to flash at him, “How about forty gold then ya smug thing?"

The dragon only held his aura of prestigue for a moment longer before snapping his snout to her with a growl, “You're on. Let it not be known that I shy away from a challenge. Prepare to lose your coin dwarf."

With a confident stride and swishing tail he was before these men without a word. He acted as though his presence was a typical thing, and was glad to see these soldiers were doing the same. “Move aside would you humans?" He said in a brassy voice, wagging a paw at them. “Fremra's had a rather rough day, she's requested I retrieve the goggles of Alancia within, something about having me focus my Drahkras if you'd believe it."

“So, you can steal them?" Asked one of the guards, an older looking wolven with black and grey fur. “You may be her little pupil, but you're not getting in here without her word."

“Little?" Veledar growled, wrinkling his snout. “In what regard am I little to you wolven? I'm at least one and a half times your height and many your length. If anything it is you that is tiny."

“Is my choice of words really of your concern?"

“Yes." Hissed the dragon in return, lashing his tail up against the wall. “Especially when one addresses a dragon."

“Because they have rather short tempers?"

“Correct."

“Ah." She brushed her muzzle against her hand rather casually, “But if I recall, you're on the smallish side for an adult dragon."

The guards winced before him as Veledar tossed his head with a snarl, “I am still growing! Now see here woman, I am need of those goggles for my dragoness teacher. Are you going to have me march back to her and tell her weary snout that you were the one to stand in my way."

The wolven shrugged to her colleges, “Go ahead."

That wasn't the answer he was looking for. Veledar growled as he could practically feel Merlia's judgemental gaze upon his scales. Snorting to regain his more intimidating composure, the dragon rose his head, giving them all a gaze harder than their armor. “My intentions are noble sapphire guardians. Why is it that you doubt me? Have I not time and again proved my worth? Do you not trust your lady Fremra's trust in me? Or is it because you also share the unfair assumption that because I'm a dragon that I wish to relieve a fellow dragon of their possessions?"

“I do believe it's the last one." Replied a male human guard, gripping his spear tight, even as the dragon glared daggers upon him.

“I think that's a bit unfair."

“Either way, you're not getting in without the lady dragoness you keep talking about."

This was unbelievable, how did Arcturus do this? “See here knights, I've been polite, cordial, truthful of my intentions. How can you refuse me, I am literally one of the only dragons standing in the way of your city's destruction! Have you heard word of what I did last night, saving a whole pack of your onyx guardian scouts? Now I ask again, how can you do this to me?"

A woman with a scar upon her jaw shifted, crossing her arms defiantly. “Because we can sir dragon?"

Were they having a laugh at him? The dragon growled, lashing his tail as the air between he and the guardians seemed to warm. “Listen here you cheap imitations of knights. I am the Crimson Sky, a dragon who is hellbent on saving your stubborn peoples. I have saved countless lives, death follows my wings like a friend, my breath can reduce you to cinders. Just stand aside and no one will judge you."

“You know…" The female wolven leaned into her spear, “Threatening the ruling body isn't exactly what heroes do."

“They do if the ruling body is tyrannical." Replied the scared woman, “You could say it's required."

“Yes, but it's not rather tyrannical now is it?"

“Fair point."

The male human rose a brow, “Can I touch your snout dragon? I do say you're rather on the cute side, when you're not totally being an aggressive ogre."

“I've heard he likes scritches." Said the wolven with a smile. “Really a big softie at heart."

This was getting ridiculous, “Who is telling you such vile slander?" He slammed down his paw, eyes narrowing, hoping to wipe those cheerful grins of these guardians, “I demand to know who is brave enough to destroy my image."

Veledar tensed his stance as they began to chuckle and laugh at how cute he was being. The growl he unleashed upon them was the greatest he could muster, his claws digging lines into the floor. Nostrils flared, enveloping them in thick smoke, a taste of what his glands could achieve. “You think me some cute and tamed dragon? One that does whatever is required at a command? If so, cherish your breaths for they will be your last. I am not one to trifle with guardians."

The guards crossed their arms, clearly unamused by his little display. “And you don't think we've dealt with moody dragons Crimson Sky? We've been around Storm, Fremra and her children. Us here have seen all their snarls and growls." She exchanged knowing looks with the other guardians, “How's about this, you want in, we want to pet your snout."

“How's it going?" Merlia called from behind, a smug look upon her face. “Looks like ya have a wee bit a predicament doesn't ya?"

Oh, how she'd love to know he'd lost control of the situation. That he could not get what he wanted without resorting to…being cute. The dragon chuckled loudly to betray the burning in his blood, “Don't fret Merlia, things could not be more in control ." He snapped to the guards with a harsh snort, dropping his voice that Merlia might not hear. “Listen here, I have a bet with that woman back there that I might get you to let me enter. Now can I get in without having to resort to being cute and engaging in this snout fetish of yours?"

“You let Arcturus pet your snoot." The wolven huffed. “Are you implying he has a fetish?"

“Neither of you are my Umraadi, and if anything his fetish is for dragons. What he does or doesn't touch however is none of your business."

“Alright fine, but can we touch it?"

“NO!" He was panting now, eye practically twitching over their teasing laughter. Clearly, they adored boiling the very blood below his scales. Before this insanity devolved into more insults to his pride, the dragon's eyes widened as he let forth magic flow through his flesh. It surged and captured the guards before them, instilling upon them a single demand, sleep. “There we are." He gave a satisfied huff as the guard's had their eyes roll into the back of their heads, collapsing into a tangled mess upon the floor.

“What in bonnie blazes was that?" Merlia emerged from her hiding spot, face already that of a beet. “Couldn't resort to doing it right? You were supposed to convince them! "

“Well, there was certainly some convincing going on." The dragon huffed, rolling his eyes, “They seemed adamant on convincing me to put them to sleep."

“That's cheating ya daft dragon. No way sir that yer getting me coin after that." She stomped past him, mumbling a few curses about no good dragons and never sticking to playing fair. “Least I know you couldn't do it. Now give me a hand before someone comes sniffing and wonders why there be three bodies just snoring away."

Veledar cleared off his throat as she grabbed the wolven by his boot. He dusted off his scales, “Since when were you the boss of me? I don't recall getting the letter."

“Oh right, excuse me princess." She groaned, “What do you want to do?"

His tail twitched in the brief silence as he nosed at the still unconscious guards. She was of course right in her meaning, but that didn't mean he had to tell her. Up he rose with a knowing nod, gesturing to the door. “Well, as you said, let's get to hiding the bodies."

“Wow." Merlia gasped, hands on her cheeks, clearly sarcasm. “What a wonderous idea. Why didn't I think o that?"

** * * * **

The doors clattered shut behind them as Veledar and Merlia dragged the last unconscious guard into the darkened hall of Fremra's treasure vault. The air seemed to still as the worry they might be caught subsided, leaving the pair to glance around at their dim surroundings.

While Veledar could see in the dark, as could Merlia, neither dwarf or dragon typically existed in such a state. What they could see would be limited to a certain distance, and only in black and white. The dragon sought out their nearest source of light, a dangling chandelier above with candles ready to receive his kiss. A soft inhale and release focused his firebreath, turning in the person melting wave to a thin line, perfect to ignite wicks. Each flare to life, newly born children to cast their orange glow to the world.

Around them were sections of treasure, organized and packed away into trunks and boxes. Barrels filled with spices and grain were labeled and tightly packed, signs of draconic claw's touch evident across their wooden surfaces. Other chandeliers were given Veledar's breath, letting the light flicker down to sparkle across any loose coin or steel that revealed itself, armors, weapons and other trinkets that dragons might find curious to the eye. It smelled old, of oil and metal, the dragons nostrils were flaring in interest at every breath. By the time his paws touched back upon the sturdy ground his scales were tingly, everything here was ever so valuable. He chuckled to himself as his gaze traveled to tapestries and rugs of the finest silks, colors that only royals could afford. Fremra like to insist that coin or treasures were the least of her concerns, yet, here they were, a hoard befitting a dragon.

“Well, I'll be damned. Didn't think the ole girl had it in her!" Merlia whistled, eyes wide as dinner plates. “For a moment I get why ya wanted to come!"

“Hmmpf." Veledar huffed as the dwarf eyed a rack covered with bottles of wine, dates going back centuries. He rolled a paw to his chest, “My hoard is bigger."

“Wee bit a jealousy cause it isn't yours?"

“Just keep the eyes on the prize, we're not here for sight seeing."

“Right." She retracted a hand from a bottle of elven frost wine, “We're here to steal that armor you drooling about, course that look in yer eye, bet you want all of this for yourself!"

“Hmmm?" He shook his head, momentarily distracted by a display with several jewels the size of Arcturus' head. By his estimate each could buy a kingdom in themselves. It was all he could do to not swipe them and bury them away in one of his many pouches.

“HAH!" She doubled over, hands on her belly. “You can barely focus! All this treasure has you riled up more than a gryphon in heat! Just watch the paws lad, last thing we need is the dragoness to be even more mad with ya."

“Oh, I don't think she'd be that cross. Dragons would consider theft by another dragon as a failure on their part to keep their treasure protected." Veledar stopped to admire a music box upon a shelf of polished brass.

“Is that so?" Hands went to her hips, “Then why is the term dragons guard their treasure jealously?"

“Cause its rather rude for mortals to go about swiping our gathered treasure." He huffed, “Insult really, sneaking about upon us while we're asleep or out. But we'd probably best not swipe anything here without careful consideration." Eyes flicked to a series of armor plates adorned with effigies of storms and lightning bolts, “Some of it might be cursed."

“What?" Her face drained of color, sliding closer to Veledar's side. “So the thing ya want to steal might be cursed?"

He growled, gently nudging her away, “Borrowing, and I believe I can disable it if so. Just don't expect me to be able to do it for everything I want."

“But cursed to well to get through your draconic resistance ya got?"

“Wouldn't be very effective against dragons otherwise." He rolled his eyes as they tentatively strode forward, treasure troves on either side of them. “But long as we're mindful, you'll only have to worry about normal traps."

“Traps? You think she be having traps? All the way in her keep?"

“You don't think she would?" The dragon chortled deep in his throat, “Though she might be silly Merlia, she's still a dragon." He gestured to clearly a trip wire trap of rope, connected to a weighted net above. “See?" He started to step over the rope with a smug look upon his snout, only for a pressure plate to click below his paw.

With a click the net collapsed upon the dragon, far heavier than he'd imagined. Down he went to the stone, slathered in oil that each rope was soaked in. It burned at the touch, even through his scales, no doubt it was some sort of mixture of dragon's bane. He hissed and squirmed like a mouse caught, doing nothing more than tangling himself worse within the net's grasp.

“Well look at that! Guess yer were right!" Merlia whistled as Veledar continued his struggle, snarling and cursing the entire while. When the dragon flopped for a moment of rest, the dwarf offered him an amused smile. “Need a hand there?"

“Nonsense, I could get out of it if I wanted." He tried to shift, finding his movements ever sluggish. In fact, he could hardly feel his limbs at this very moment. Heart beating faster he realized the oil these ropes had been slathered in must have contained a paralytic agent.

“You don't seem to be wanting to."

Pinning his frills he glared at the chuckling dwarf, “Free me then. I appear to be poisoned."

Whistling a merry tune, Merlia sauntered ever to his side, procuring a blade from her pouch. Down she leaned, holding the steel against the rope. She paused, mischief gleaming in her emerald pools, “Ya know. This be a mighty interesting situation."

“Just cut the rope."

“Hold on now, don't get hasty lad." She leaned back, playing with the knife, “I think we can work out some sort of payment structure."

“Don't." He hissed, already knowing where this was going. He'd have thumped his tail in protest.

“Maybe a few fines for services rendered. Ya, I can see it now." She spread her arms wide, listing off absolutely ridiculous charges.

“Just cut me loose! I die of old age as you prattle about!"

“Ah, sweet words ta know ya need ole Merlia. Lucky no one else here to see when the mighty Crimson Sky was brought low from a wee net." She cut him free in a matter of minutes, careful to not linger her touch upon the ropes for any given amount of time. When he was all but put to death with her whistling she whispered a few words, a spell of banishing poison gracing his scales. “There, now quit your belly aching."

He had to admit that such things of the nature craft were fine to have. He expressed his gratitude with a huff and a knowing nod.

“Don't worry, I know it eating ya." She chuckled, stowing her blade, “And that be payment enough."

They renewed their search through the hall of treasures, now more alert than they'd been. How they wished for Lyndis' keen eye in these moments, but they made do with tentative paws and feet, even a stick Merlia had procured from her pouch, grown to a length three times her size. They tapped away at sections of the floor, while Veledar scanned for any more of those infuriating nets. Around they went for what seemed like hours, taking in every bit of treasured bit. There were statues carved from marble, of dragons and various races, each more eye catching than the last. Books upon shelves of trees, every tome a work of art, smelling of years long since past. Trinkets littered sealed boxes, little toys that children might play with, the dragon found his patience ever being tested.

“But where is it?" He growled as they stumbled across a draconic vase for the third time, Achaaz's signature scribbled into the side, he rubbed up along the side of such a treasure. It would have collapsed and shattered if not for Merlia's quick reflexes.

“What the blazes are ya doing?" Merlia set back the treasure of a loving mother. “Trying ta give the dragoness an excuse to test her teeth against your scales?"

“Nothing of the sort." He pinned his frills, holding his head high. “I was testing its…stability." He wheeled around, ignoring her skeptical look. “Believe it or not dwarf. Instead of chastising my quirks, how about helping find the armor in which I seek?"

“What's so special about this armor anyway?" She mused, “Good enough to be hidden away with the orb of dragonkind?"

“That's…Somewhere else." He admitted, recalling all the trouble that ancient little bauble called upon. Even now they would not leave with it from the city, for fear it might possess whoever carried it. He passed a suit of gathered armor upon a rack when Merlia groaned and gestured to it.

“See, there be an armor. Plenty all around ya. Come now, ya can tell me why you find it so special."

“But none of it would be the same." He sighed, recalling the stories of storm he'd read from his youth. Of the grand blue dragon, adorned in armor, protecting the peoples from the terrible swaths of undead. “His amor was said to amplify his lightning, ward away the worst of spells."

“And why havnt he be using it than before? Like with Nigel perhaps? Maybe its not so great."

“Or he out grew them." Veledar slunk to a pair of spectacles, peering into the crystal lenses. “I'd like to think they meant something, only to be used for the direst of circumstances."

“And besting a lich aint that?"

“Or he thought he'd make it back." The words were cold, a sunken feeling resting in his gut. “In this way…Perhaps a bit of him will still remain, helping inspire those whose hope has left them."

“Bah, they deserve it if they stay." Retorted the dwarf.

“Says the person whose people are known to be more stubborn than a dragon. Merlia this is these people's home, their land. How can they abandon it?"

“But yet life be more valuable than that! Make yer new land your home!"

He peered back, no wonder the dwarves exiled her. “Why are you even here if your faith is so crushed?"

“Because I be stupid." She huffed, stomping past him. “Finding lost causes and latching onto them seems to be me fetish." She plucked free a wooden axe from a pile of treasure, swinging it with practiced ease, “And while I'm at is, catch sight of this orb thing that killed me friend."

“Your friend?" His head shot up in alarm, “You can't attack it Merlia, it struck dead the dwarf who tried."

“Perhaps he didn't try hard enough." Growled the dwarf, shouldering the axe. “But then again, he wasn't always the brightest."

“You knew him?" He strolled beside her, searching over piles of rolled up rugs.

“Aye." She sighed mournfully, “Ole Milagor, had the best stories around the fire. Shouda seen his face when I was exiled, rightfully concerned, promised to get me pardoned." The ranger stared off, past the walls to the world beyond. “Guess he did in the end…He didn't deserve to go out the way he did. Least he went out fighting." With a heave she hurled the axe back into the treasure. “Now why in bonnie blazes is it not here?"

“Your friend?" The dragon cocked his head, “I would imagine it's because he's dead."

Her face scrunched up, arms going to her hips, “Not Milagor ya cheeky dragon! The orb we be talking about! Isn't it supposed to be worth something? You'd think it would be here, in the dragon's vault!"

“Course it is, that little bauble." Veledar slunk away to touch a few gems that called to him by name. They were crimson of course, “Probably to stop this sort of thing. You know…" He looked back to her with a flicking tail, “I've considered stealing it myself."

“You?" She scoffed. “Would your Umraadi not be pleased?"

“Course. It's old, valuable, who wouldn't want to hold it in their claw?" The dragon froze as she paused, stroking her chin, gears clicked into place. “Merlia, are you trying to steal the orb?"

He got a coin hurled at his scales, “Course not! Some of us would like to see the thing we're getting asked to risk our lives for!" With a great toss of her hands, Merlia went to depart. “Can't believe I wasted me time. All this for nothing."

He rolled his eyes, perhaps with her absence he could get some work done. “Don't forget to shut the door on your way out!" He called after her, getting a slammed door in response. For a moment he simply stared, trying to figure what had crawled up her tail. Snorting he returned to his task, free of dwarven distractions. He was able to diligently look, finding the forepaw bands of Storm's armor with no trouble at all. They were underneath a massive furry blanket marked with age, must have been at least a hundred years old. Beside them were the plates of a dragon's armor, polished silver with runes of lightning bolts engraved into it's surface.

“Now that's what I'm speaking of." Warbled the dragon to himself, plucking up the armor plates and marveling at their craftsmanship. By the expertise they must have been from a dwarf, or perhaps elf? He was never too sure with this sort of thing, one thing was certain they smelled valuable, would be the envy of any smith that saw them. Already he could see the gnome Matilda, red with envy. As he manipulated the armor, he noted how weightless it was, as though he were lifting anything at all. Was this a cheap trick, or decoy? His nostrils flared as he dismissed such a thing. He pictured like a child how Storm had moved with this armor, sauntering about, the hero of Drenedar. Veledar in his haze placed the band upon his forepaw, chuckling at the difference in sizes. Though he was larger now, it looked as though he were still a wrymling.

Memories of his youth came flooding back to him, of his sister and himself traversing around their mountain home. How they dreamed of their future lives, ones fraught with adventure and excitement. Every time it came back to Storm and his exploits. But could he be like that? Veledar placed down the armaments, doubts tugging his thoughts. “You are truly a work of art." He huffed.

“One could say that about the armor and the dragon gazing upon it." Came Fremra's voice, it filled the hall with it's singsong nature. She was by his side, hinds planted.

He fell backwards in a panic, flailing as crimson scales met hardened stone. His wings flared out, his tail lashed like a whip, knocking dozens of what could be priceless treasures to the floor in a great cacophony of noise.

“What an interesting way to say hello." The teal dragoness chuckled, padding over to gaze over him with a smirk. “Was it I that taught you?"

“Where did you even come from?" He grumbled, returning to all fours with ever burning frills. As she chuckled deep in her throat, all he could do was narrow his gaze and hiss, save what pride that he had. “And why are you even here?"

The larger dragoness sauntered around him, playfully so, her tail swinging back and forth. Against him she rubbed, nearly knocking him down, amusement in her voice, “Oh, I always come by to share my lunch with Linda and the others." She gestured with her snout to the unconscious guards, where boxes wrapped in teal ribbons did reside. “They do ever love the fish I catch. Have the most interesting stories."

“You've never done this in the entire time I've been here training with you."

“Nonsense I must have done at least twice."

“Nope, never."

She tapped her chin, “Then it must be Linda's birthday, she's such the dear. Always asks to touch my snout, never seen a wolf smile as much."

“You're lying." He hissed, only causing the larger dragon to chortle.

“Perhaps? Does it matter? I'd be more worried about your presence in my treasure room."

His eyes went wide at that, the fact only occurring to him in just this instant. “I was only taking a gander-“

She scoffed, tail running across the underside of his jaw. “Oh, you needn't lie little one. You went and did as I planned."

“You, planned it?" He scoffed at her as she brushed against his side. “How on earth did you do that?"

“I think I know more than you know yourself. Drop a few hints, tell a few stories. It's really not that hard."

“I make my own decisions." He stated, with a growl, “There's no way you manipulated me."

“Then explain how you're here, right where I wanted you, at the time I arranged?" Fremra smiled, planting herself down upon her hinds. Her frills fluttered in amusement as the red dragon stared defiantly up at her.

“You couldn't have planned any of this." He repeated more firmly, meeting her gaze. To think otherwise would be crazy. He tried to piece together her lessons and meditations, all the little stories of her youth. There was no way she had manipulated him, was there?

“So certain, are you?" She nipped at his tail.

“Yes!" He hissed, snapping his teeth. “I think the more believable answer is you're stalking me. Which must I say…Rude."

“I'd hardly call it stalking when you're in my home." She cut off the red dragon as he tried to slink away, playfully looming over him with an amused grin, “But slinking out of your meditations to gander at my treasures? All to steal the armor of my departed mate?"

Though she was clearly pretending to be more hurt than she was, Veledar couldn't help but have his heart sting. There was a sense of longing within her voice. “I…-“ His frills pinned as he met her eye, “Only meant to borrow it."

“Which you'd no doubt forget. Classic move, something I'd have thought of."

His snout wrinkled as she chuckled, “Merlia said the same thing."

“Astute dwarf." Snorted the teal, gesturing Veledar closer with her tail. “Good thing all of that is a fantasy. Face it my little pupil, you're here because I wish it. I do hope that you didn't harm my friends too badly."

“So, giving you credit here…How does this make you different than say…Emerald Lady?"

“For starters, I think I'm far more enjoyable company."

He rolled his eyes as she tapped her paws against the stone. Clearly whatever game she was playing, he was still stuck within it. Sitting beside her, eyes were drawn back towards the silver armor, complete with a draconic helmet, perfect to be placed upon one's head. Fremra had already grabbed it, motioning for him to approach.

“Well, come now. You don't want to tell me you came this far to not try it on?" She rolled her eyes, “We both know you do."

“Look at the size of it." He rose, waggling his body at her, “I don't think I'd look impressive with it shuffling about like a dancer."

“Does one forget there are spells to shift its size?" She set the armor down, nipping along his frills. When he went to snap back, she'd already moved out of reach. “Now stop being thick and slink into it. I promise you, next time I won't be asking." She flashed her teeth, “Because you technically thought you were trying to steal from me."

“Borrow." He snorted, only for a claw to poke his nose.

“Liar."

She swept a wing over him, dragging the younger dragon to stare upon the armor. “Now put it on."

Was she being serious? He rose a brow over her friendly demeanor. Tentatively he caressed the golden plates, then sitting upon his hinds. There he rose them to sniff, getting a whiff of the salty sea, combined with the unmistakably aroma of magic. His tail shivered at how old it was, no doubt older than Storm was himself. To the now humming teal, licking her paws, the red dragon cocked his head. “Whats the catch?"

“Catch?" She paused, her white horned head tilted. “You can't possibly think this is a-“

“Did Krazaalan know what Butareth was to do to him? Did I know what color you were going to dye my scales at the island? Did I know you were going to cast a spell so that I spat bubbles for a few hours?" He flared his nostrils, recanting time and again of pranks or lessons she'd inflicted upon him. “So yes, in conclusion, I believe this is a trick. You've cursed it."

Fremra heaved a great sigh, planting her paws down and sitting up. “Veledar, this is not some scheme or trick. There is no curse in which I'd like to inflict upon you…today. What you hold belonged to someone dear to me, in which it lent him it's aid in the days before I knew him." Dreamingly she gazed up to the vault's treasures, eyes dazzling as though the grand blue dragon were right there in front of her. “All of this is treasures we shared back from Eastcliff, the start of our adventure together. He brought great joy and light into my life when I most needed it, still feel his presence with me as though he were upon my wings. How I do wish that he were still here, but these treasures do little good gathering dust. It is better that I share it with the world beyond these halls." She turned to him, applying a caring lick upon his neck, a rumble radiating down her throat. “I know you think otherwise, that this is a feat on which you can't climb. But I can think of none more deserving than you to adorn his armor."

“You think?" His voice nearly broke, making him clear his throat and say it again, only this time firmer. “You still have that bit of uncertainty?"

“Don't think you're up to the task?" She mused, sliding against him, nearly knocking him over.

Frills burned over the thought. Without a word he stared into the silver reflection, catching his horned reflection. Within he saw not only himself, but the images of his sister Adalina and brother Covrias, listening to his plans and great schemes. How he'd be the equal of Storm's heroism, showing the shining example of what dragons could be. Breath caught in his throat, finally at the precipice of all his dreams. Should he not canter forth, warbling to the winds? Yet as he weighed it in his grip, a shiver couldn't help but going through his heart.

“I know that look. Shared it well at the island." She sat before him, staring tenderly at the smaller dragon. “You're afraid to fail. Just as you'd done to Covrias, to Nigel, to Storm."

“It was his choice." The dragon replied, but even still didn't believe the words. “It's not even the right size."

“Think I can't reshape it?" She chuckled, tapping the plates, “You can do this young one. You just need to believe in yourself. I look to you and see yes, a prideful, bombastic beast that exudes some of dragons worst qualities."

“Really great pep talk." He hissed, batting away her chuckling snout.

“But I also see the better qualities as well. You're loyal, dedicated, willing to do what's right, even at a detriment to yourself."

“Only with payment." He shifted, placing the armor down, “What's your point?"

“Can you not see yourself wearing it?"

His tail flicked, was he as scared as she said? “Could you not wear it? It's better sized to your stature. Those in the city trust you over I."

“Yes, but as a healer and a dragon of guidance." She rolled a paw, “My darling Ramakox was the defender, the strength. I feel with what will come in the next few days, we may need a bit of his spirit left."

“And you think that's me?" He brushed his chest with a paw.

“To think you were the dragon insisting he was the best. Here is the chance for your greatness, you merely must clamp down with your snout and never let go." With a rumble she grabbed a bracer of silver, running a paw along the smooth surface. Her tail tapped as she hummed a soft spell, shifting the item before Veledar's eyes to better fit his forepaw. In a fluid motion she slipped it along his scales, tapping it three times. The armor sealed itself against him, not moving in the slightest. “How does it feel?"

“Strange." He replied softly, testing his paw against the floor. It was nothing how he expected, lacking the reverence and greatness he'd assumed. Trotting around the treasure proved no different than before, merely with a warming sensation around his forepaw. Upon his return he found her smiling, pride flickering in her eyes. His nostrils flared as his gaze narrowed, “You cursed it didn't you."

“Nonsense." She said softly, delicately placing the other bracer upon his forepaw. “It's just…You look like a younger version of him."

“Sorry."

“Don't be. There should be something of him to inspire this city. Especially after the little adventure I heard of last evening. Something about fighting dragons and undead?"

“See, you are stalking me." He grumbled as the teal dragoness dragged over the other pieces, starting to fit them onto his frame.

“I wouldn't say you're that interesting."

He wrinkled his snout, drifting back to the previous eve, “Fremra, mind if I ask you a question?"

“For you?" She rumbled, “I always have the time." Down her hinds went, tail curling around them both as she tapped his scales with a paw, “Do tell me, I don't bite…Hard."

As she chortled he told her of the previous night. How he'd zeroed in on Arcturus' position, saved him and the others with a wall of fire.

“Yes, and I thought it was common knowledge that you could share emotions?" She snorted, rolling a paw. “Or did you forget-“

“I didn't forget." He hissed, batting away her paw. “But this time it was different."

“How so?" Her brow rose, a hint of amusement in her voice. Did she know something more?

“Do you already know?"

“Perhaps I might, perhaps not." She placed a single claw upon his nose, “I still want to hear what you have to say."

He sighed, guessing he'd have to put up with her quirk. With closed eyes he tried to focus on the exact events, the taste of the air upon his tongue, the rapid beating of his heart. With a breath he shifted his consciousness back to the evening, recalling the icy wind upon his membranes. The dragon's frills flickered as his senses reached out to the one he loved, not just emotions, but something more. “I could almost hear Arcturus thoughts I think, know what he wanted of me."

She shook her head, licking at her nose, “Sounds as though you're really getting in his skull. Amusing to say the least."

“That's not really helpful!" He thumped his tail against the stone, frills flaring out. “I already knew that!"

Opening and closing her jaws, the dragoness shrugged with her wings. “I don't know what else you want of me. Specifics on the bond you share is not my specialty. I had that once…But it did not go that far."

“You?" He pulled back in surprise. “Had a bond?"

“Long ago perhaps." She replied mournfully, “Someone I cared for deeply, so my advice to you? Focus on it, let it guide you. What an amusing ability it might be to peer into the thoughts of your beloved." Up she rose, snickering to herself, “Or the dirty and lewd things one might share between the other. By the gods, you could make his face so red when he's trying to be uptight and civilized!"

He joined her, already picturing Arcturus squirming as he subjected him to the lewdest positions and acts that he could imagine. Clearing his throat he reigned in his mischievous thoughts, he had an image to maintain. “But it might be useful to keep secrets and such."

“And no doubt bring you two closer together." Her voice was soft as she turned back to him, “Can you imagine having that sort of connection? Deepening the thread that binds you two together? Who knows what else it could bring if tended for?"

Interesting indeed, it left a lot to think about as Fremra went about dragging the rest of the armor pieces over, one at a time to shift them to the red dragon's size.

“Won't Arcturus be surprised by this development." He rumbled, eyes traveling across each part of armor as though he were a kid in a candy shop.

“I'll say." She warbled, “Now he can say you're the one wearing a metal skirt!"

“There is nothing like that upon me."

“Well, it doesn't have to exactly fit."

“You're crazy don't you know that?"

She nipped at him, “Careful, I can bite hard you know. So, sit still, the tail armor is quite tricky."

It took a few minutes to complete the transformation, but Veledar held his tongue and movements. With each soft click of the armor sealing to him, the more his spirits soared. He could picture himself now, soaring high above the city, stories told in his name. He would of course trill his glory to those below, inspiring them to heroism and courage like nothing could. Upon his back would be Arcturus, doing himself and his people a service. The red rumbled at his thoughts, picturing his brother among the crowds of people. Pride upon his snout, knowing it was done in his name.

“There we are, done." Fremra chuckled as the red dragon, snapped out of his daydream, sprung to all fours. “Just let's cross our wings the image doesn't go to your head."

He didn't make any noise! Veledar trotted around the treasure room, not a single plate upon him jingling or shifting. He chuckled at such a feat, anticipation over showing off to Arcturus now upon his mind. It wasn't long until he was able to find a mirror within such a place, tracing each and every plate that adorned him. There were greaves upon his hinds, bracers upon his forepaws. His chest was covered in a golden breast plate, flexible enough for him to move unburdened, not tight enough to pinch or squeeze. He flapped his wings, no problem there, granted there was some weight upon his limbs. It would take some getting used to, but he imagined it would be no trouble in short order.

“And here you are, completing my worry." Fremra added softly, bringing over the final touch to lay upon his snout. It was a golden helmet with a thunderbolt going down it's center, draconic runes carved into it's smoothed edges. With a tap it was set. “Now you're truly done."

“And what does it do?" He grinned, “Besides looking totally dapper."

“I believe Storm mentioned it increased his spell strength, helped deflect enemy ones off his scales. It of course is armor, so it helps against arms. May it bless your safety like it did his all those years ago."

He blinked; did he hear what she'd said? “You mean…It's mine?"

“Should you wish it." She chortled, “I certainly have no need of it."

“But…It's rare."

“Yes."

“Old."

“Quite."

“Have you gone mad?"

“Possibly."

“But it's exceptionally magical!"

“Yes, it is." She warbled, tossing her head and smacking him with a paw, “Are you just going to bore me with things I know?"

Unbelievable, the dragon mused, scratching the breastplate with his claws. To her he bowed his head in great thanks, “Then you've bestowed upon me a great gift. One that, I don't think I can repay. I must almost insist upon trading you something."

“Just keep my city safe and treasure it always." Fremra caught his jaw with a paw, lifting it so her nose touched his, “And before you ask, yes, I probably have something for Arcturus as well."

“Well, I wasn't going to ask, the armor was already enough-“ He started to lie, only to be cut off by her spinning around and smacking him in the face with her tail.

Cantering away, the teal dragoness' eyes sparkled with anticipation, excitement over the next treasure to showcase. She paused, curling her neck back with a smirk, “How does he feel about throwing thunderbolts? Like big crackling ones?"

The dragon chuckled, following her. Would she just gift him the entire treasury if he waited here long enough? Surprise over the turn of luck licked at his scales as he kept right upon her hinds, hoping that indeed the answer was yes.