Draka

It had only been days since I was last in my nest, but it felt like much, much longer. I’d gone the long way around, heading out the gate and flying up. I would have loved to actually rest there, but I was not comfortable leaving the humans alone. Not that I thought that Ardek would try to murder Herald or Mak in their sleep, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I didn’t know him well enough to trust him not to be stupid. So, a quick visit to drop off my loot and make sure that everything was right with the hoard would have to be enough.

The loot, though. It was a good haul. Back on Earth criminals were usually depicted as keeping a stash of wads of hundreds. The Night Blossom’s stash had been in gold coins, which I had decided that I like much, much better than some sad slips of paper. Sure, there was silver, too, and some jewellery, but most of the value was in good old Dragons. I’d let the girls take their pick of the accessories, and even after splitting whatever was left 50-50 it was a lot. I hadn’t counted it. Exact numbers meant little when it came to my hoard. All that mattered was that I knew I was bringing home a fortune.

I walked the familiar path down into the mountain from the cave’s mouth, enjoying the feeling of normalcy that it woke in me. It was the only thing that I had left of my old life. I knew every rock there, and every patch of glow slime, as Herald called the bioluminescent lichen that clung to the stone.

It had been a hundred days since I first woke here, if I’d counted right, and it had become my new normal. It had become comfortable and familiar, somehow, and when I reached my nest and ignited the light-ball – I really needed a new name for the things – it really felt like returning home. I was comfortable there, safe and happy, and it smelled so good! The only thing I lacked was my friends but, as sad as it might sound, my hoard more than made up for that. I only really felt its draw when I was away for a long time, like when we’d gone north, but every time I returned after being absent for more than a day it was a joy and a major relief to see everything unspoilt and in its place.

I curled up on my blankets and dropped the pouch from my mouth, letting it clink onto the colourful fabric. I took it and upended it, letting the contents pour out in an all-too brief jingle of metal on metal, and looked at the pile with great pleasure. My haul from the journey north had been in the hundreds of coins, but they had all been silver. Here I had only a few dozen, but half of them were golden Dragons, and the rest silver Eagles. I had no way to judge the value of the rings and single earring, but they were set with gems and smelled as delicious to me as the coins did. With no one around, I allowed myself a long, luxuriating rumble.

I was surprised when the familiar pressure of a threshold reached began to build. I’d expected it considering the size of the haul, especially when I hadn’t gotten anything after adding the Old Mallinean coins. I’d even tried to remember what my previous options had been and tried to guess what might be available this time. But this time I hadn’t heard a voice, yet there was the unmistakable pressure. And then I knew. My dragon didn’t speak to me, but I knew my available choices, like they’d been dropped into my memory.

I’d already decided to pass on ‘greatness’ indefinitely, but without a second mind to filter it for me I understood more about it now. Physical greatness, at a cost. I’d guessed that the cost was that I’d need more space, obviously, as well as more food, but now I understood that it would have been a cost to the human in me. It would make me more dragon in a sense, with all that meant. More arrogant, more aggressive, less caring about what consequences my actions would have for others. Maybe not less human – those were all very human things – but less me. I couldn’t accept that.

The promise of near invincibility with Greater Fortitude was, of course, very tempting. But it only helped me, and it felt like I was already getting into fair fights far too often. I was a Shadow Dragon, a creature of stealth, and I needed to be better at acting like it, not giving myself excuses to throw myself bluntly at every problem, no matter how satisfying that was.

Charisma would become more and more useful the more people I had to deal with, and Cunning would likely be a strong option no matter what. They were both good choices, I thought, with no real drawbacks. But it was the new option that made me grin. It was just what I needed, which supported the idea that advancements weren’t offered in a vacuum. I could have been offered even greater strength, or perhaps better stealth. Maybe something to make me more terrifying, or to make my venom more powerful. But I had gathered a small following, now, and we were going to war.

I was offered Command, to better guide my subjects. And with that came a feeling for what that actually meant, a little like the way Herald and Mak had described it being for humans though without the visions they had mentioned. It wasn’t about telling people what to do in a fight, though I felt that it would make them more likely to listen to me. No, at its core it was about loyalty, to me and to each other, about making them stronger and making them work together. Sure, it would mess with their heads a little, and that was a concern, but we’d all just have to live with that. My small group of humans needed a leader, not a tyrant, and that was what Command promised me.

Choosing it was a no-brainer.

I couldn’t make myself return immediately. Lying there, surrounded by my treasures, I was simply too comfortable, too relaxed and satisfied. The smell of precious metals was heavy in the air, and I felt calm and completely safe. It gave me room to think about uncomfortable things, which was something I sorely needed to do.

I was glad for my conversation with Herald. Both of us acknowledging our less-than-healthy relationship had been a relief, and hopefully a first step in doing something about it, if that was possible. There was no way to know if her acceptance was part of whatever effect I had on her or if that was really her own unaltered opinion, but it was out in the open now.

What concerned me more was my dragon. Or the part of myself that was draconic, as the case might be. The last time she had spoken to me had been days ago, when she woke me for our ill-fated meeting with Mak. Since then we had been more like a single entity, shifting between acting more like what I thought of as ‘her’ and ‘myself’. But whatever ‘she’ or that part of myself had been doing to regulate my emotions, it was clearly still happening. All the existential terror that had been so demonstratively released in the tunnels was still safely locked away, and I felt nothing about the poor bastards I’d killed on my way out of the prison. Nor did I feel any guilt about Ardek, and I knew myself well enough by then to be sure that I couldn't have crippled and subjugated another person and not felt terrible about it when I was fully human.

I felt a little bad about Mak. Not a whole lot, but a little, which was something.

I couldn’t tell if it was the effect of my new advancement or just common sense, but I found myself thinking about the morale of my small group. That didn’t seem like a very draconic concern, either. It was clear to me that keeping three humans cooped up in the dark was not going to endear them to me even if they understood why, nor would it make them any more useful to me. Herald would probably handle it just fine, though she might not be happy about it, but Mak and Ardek? They would hate it, and it would give them one more reason to hate me. I couldn’t afford that. So, I decided to surprise them.

The next time I returned to the camp it was late. The sun had just set behind the mountains when I entered the gate, not that they’d know. My increased strength and fortitude really helped, because I was carrying a fair load up the tunnel.

I knew that I was making some noise, and I was happy not to see anything when I reached the hub. There were no lights, and no sign of anyone until Herald and Mak stepped out from behind the rock pillar where they’d taken cover, weapons at their sides.

“You can come out, Ardek,” Mak called. “It’s Draka.”

“And what is she carrying?” Herald asked the darkness as they approached.

What I was carrying was the hindquarters of a mountain goat, as well as my sack full of firewood. It had been very uncomfortable to drag in. Flying with the sack on my front was perfectly fine, but to walk anywhere with it, full as it was, I had to move it to my back, which was awkward. And I’d had to carry the meat in my teeth if I didn’t want to drag it, so now my neck was getting sore. Still, I hoped that it’d be worth it.

“I brought dinner,” I told them after putting the meat on the ground. I’d done my best to bleed it while I gathered the firewood, so it didn’t make too much of a mess. “I thought you might want something fresh.”

“Did you just hunt this?” Mak asked, eyeing the meat suspiciously.

“It is not, um, ‘aged’, is it?” Herald added, reminding me that I’d told her about my habit of keeping carcasses around for a few days.

“Is that half a goat?” Ardek asked. He’d just joined the group, and was eyeing the meat hungrily.

“It was bleating no more than two hours ago,” I confirmed. I’d had to go old school and pretty much drop on the thing from the air, which was not nearly as easy as sneaking up on one in the night but much easier than the first embarrassing attempts back when I was starving. It only took three tries!

“I left the skin on, thought that might keep it fresher,” I continued. “And the sack is full of firewood. I wasn’t sure if you had enough.”

“What about the smoke?” Mak asked.

“This chamber is huge, and there’s little air shafts here and there. Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Now come on, you guys must be starving. Did you eat anything?”

“A light snack after you left,” Herald said, emptying the sack and beginning to sort the twigs and branches I’d collected, then getting out a small axe to break the bigger pieces into more manageable logs. “We wanted to wait for you–” she grunted as she chopped into a particularly thick piece of wood, “–before we settled in for the night.”

“Well, here I am. Mak, Ardek, one of you skin this. I could do it, but it’ll get messy.”

Soon there was a fire going, and chunks of meat were roasting, filling the air with a wonderful smell. We all sat around, watching the flames and the food, listening to the wood crackle and echo oddly off the stone as it burned.

“Draka,” Mak said after a while, staring into the fire. “Not that I’m not grateful, but what is this?”

“Goat,” I said, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

“Alright.” She stirred the coals a bit. “Why did you bring us goat? Why go through all the trouble with fresh meat and firewood when we have provisions for at least two weeks? Again, I appreciate it, but… why?”

“Mak… Herald, Ardek. I dragged you all out here. I asked, but we all know you wouldn’t have said no. I could have left you with the Wolves, where you would probably have been safe, but I couldn’t stay there, and I need you all somewhere I can keep an eye on you. I know that being kept in this darkness is not comfortable for any of you, especially you, Mak. Isn’t this the least I could do?”

“No,” Mak said softly. “It’s far more.”

“Nice to be appreciated. So, the reason is that I don’t want this to be a terrible experience for you all. I want it to be as comfortable and rewarding as it can, under the circumstances.” I switched to Tekereteki, making Ardek flinch, and said, “You are the one who can feel people’s intentions, Mak. Are mine anything other than what I say?”

“No,” she said. “But I still don’t understand what’s changed. I don’t understand why you want to do this. But I won’t force the issue. Thank you, Draka.”

“Just enjoy the meal. Believe me, this damned goat did not want to get caught.”

I didn’t really sleep that night. After the meal we let the fire slowly burn itself out. It wasn’t needed for warmth this deep in the mountain anyway. The humans talked a little, mostly Herald and Mak telling Ardek about their adventures with and without me, and then they stripped down as much as they were comfortable with and got into their bedrolls. With the lights covered the darkness swallowed them completely, which would have been a pretty effective defence against any possible treachery on Ardek’s part but it didn’t seem likely that he even wanted to try anything. Mak trusted him enough that she didn’t suggest a watch rotation, which I took as a good sign.

Herald snuggled up against me and was asleep almost immediately, but it took a while for Mak and Ardek. They both had a lot on their minds, and Ardek was a city boy through and through. The fact that he managed to sleep at all was a small miracle. But sleep they did, eventually, and I lay there, listening to them all breathing, napping in bursts and waiting for morning. There was so much to do! I needed to flip their days to match my preferred schedule, and then we needed to start setting this place up properly. But it would only be a storage and fallback location. I couldn’t keep them here. They needed to be closer to the outside. It should have been obvious from the beginning, but I’d been so focused on security that I hadn’t even considered sanity. Or sanitation, for that matter. Maybe they could camp just inside the gate? We’d figure it out. Then I had to get in touch with Rallon and reassure him that I really had appreciated their help, and that I intended to make good on my promise. The Wolves had been useful before, but now I needed them. They had resources that I lacked, and I saw potential in some of them, especially Rib and Pot. For all their doubt and apprehension, they had still been very clearly fascinated by me. I wasn’t going to try to steal them from Rallon, but…

I napped, and thought, and napped, and thought all through the night, until my internal clock told me that it was about an hour before sunrise. I rose, Herald murmuring a complaint, and went and lit the light-balls – I really, really needed a better name for the things – adjusting their colour to the warm golden glow I preferred.

“Good morning, my friends,” I purred as they stirred and blinked at the soft light. “It’s time to rise and get ready. We have so much to do!”