Learning to Fall

"Come on! The lizard is over here!"

"Lizard? I thought it was butterflies?"

Zay twisted to give his older cousin the sort of look that all kids reserved for when adults said stupid things. "No, we're gonna see a lizard! It's green like a dragon!"

Just then, Tay popped his head around the corner. "Come on! It's about to get away!"

The tug on Aytin's wrist became all the more insistent as Zay did his best to drag him out the door and into the yard. He had to shield his eyes from the sun. It had risen well past the horizon. It might have risen further still while he snored away, except for his cousin shaking him out of bed and demanding that he come see this thing. A lizard, apparently.

It had been a very late night for the young dragonette. The lingering effects of quite a bit of wine made his step more of an upright stumble.

Kesti hadn't been kidding when she said that she knew everyone worth knowing. The latter half of the jubilee had been a whirlwind of names and faces, maybe a quarter of which he remembered. Mostly on the younger side, and mixed between representatives of prominent families, guard officers, and up and coming guild members.

He had told his story at least half a dozen times, although it was surprising just how many of the partygoers he met had already heard the tale. Or some version of it, at least.

One drunken noble had butted in to loudly inform the rest of the audience that the brigands were actually a band of darklings. And that they'd been defeated by a flight of the royal guard and a mercenary fire mage.

He refused to believe Aytin had been there at all. Even showing off his scars hadn't been enough to prove his identity. Then he insisted on hanging around and "correcting" his story until a few more sober friends finally arrived to drag him away.

Aside from that, the retellings had gone about the same. Lots of sympathy, congratulations on his survival, and commiseration for Faelon's situation. All followed by loads of questions, half of which he'd already answered.

One son of a guild master had started talking about how he was going to charter a dragon, fly out to the frontier with a pile of metal weapons, and use them to outfit a band of mercenary wildlings. "And take the best looking one as my mate, of course," he'd added with an exaggerated ear flick.

Aytin had just smiled tightly and nodded along as his buddies had slapped the joker on the shoulders and claimed slots as his lieutenants. Privately, he doubted that they'd last a week out on the frontier. They were all young, with the soft look of people born to their positions.

'Fuck, that was me a year ago. I hope I was at least better than these clowns.'

The story-telling hadn't all been one sided, either. There was talk of inter-family drama that was almost incomprehensible to an outsider. An attempted coup in the engineering guild leadership the previous year was still spawning gossip, and there were whispers of links to an inquisitorial investigation along with it.

Darkling attacks were, of course, a major topic of conversation. One guardswoman claimed to have been involved with investigating a keep that had fallen to the forces of corruption. That was the sort of story that would normally reek of boasting, but she had a look to her eyes that made her words tough to ignore.

Everyone knew something had happened out on the frontier. Just not exactly what. Or, more accurately, there were plenty of people who "knew" what was happening, and they were all more than happy to go on about it at length.

Keeps shattered with alchemical fire. Scores of shadowdrakes attacking in the night. Half the royal guard being deployed to fight the scourge. Or even that the darklings were just false rumors spread to cover up attacks by rebels and brigands.

Aytin had privately laughed at that last one. If there really was an army of rebels out there, itching to overthrow the crown, Xantha would have been a part of it. And if there were marauding bands of brigands out on the frontier, her little group certainly hadn't heard of them.

Every story had been accompanied with toasts. To the teller, their family, the kingdom, the crown, and anything that seemed appropriate at the moment. Glasses were kept filled by an army of servants. Good stuff, too. Wines that would have been centerpieces anywhere else ran like water. It was only well after the sun had set that Aytin finally stumbled out of the party to catch a ride back home.

It finally occurred to him to use a little of his magic to counteract the lingering buzz of wine. The power came sluggishly, but it eventually responded and his steps grew noticeably steadier. Just in time to keep his feet as his cousin dragged him around the corner of the garden wall and over to where Tay was practically jumping up and down in excitement.

"There it is! There it is!" He waved a frantic hand at the wall.

Sure enough, there was a fat green lizard. Actually, a pretty big one, with alternating yellow and brown spots along its spine. It turned one slitted eye to regard the newcomers. Already edging away from the smaller dragonette, the little guy apparently decided that the addition of two more was too much. It scurried along the wall, and disappeared into a crack with a flick of its tail.

Tay gave them both a dirty look. "Aww! You scared it off!"

"Didn't! You were supposed to catch it!"

"What if it bited me? It's green. Could have died of green poison."

"Only dragons have poison," Zay insisted. "I see'd a green dragon once."

"I see'd it too. But they the same color. Maybe this is a baby. Maybe it just hatched and it's looking for its mama."

That thought sent both boys scrambling for the crack. Tay peered in with one eye, trying to spot the elusive lizard. "I don't see him. You in there little dragon? Come out, we won't hurt you."

"Maybe he scared of cous' Tin?" Zay suggested.

"Oh, Tin is good, don't worry," Tay reassured the hidden lizard. "He big, but nice."

Zay had crept up and was looking into the crack as well. "I think I see it!" he exclaimed, and shoved a pudgy hand into the gap. "Can't reach it!"

His brother stuck his own in, but had no more luck. "Tin, go get a stick," he ordered.

Aytin, who up until then had been watching with a faint smile on his lips, shook his head and bent down slightly. "I don't think that's a good idea."

The twins looked up at him, accusingly. "Why not?" Zay demanded.

"Because that's probably its home, and it doesn't want to come out."

"Dragons don't live in cracks!" Zay insisted.

"Maybe this one does," Aytin replied. "Or maybe it's not a dragon. Did you see any wings on it? I've never heard of a baby dragon without wings."

The two boys looked at each other and shook their heads.

"But we wanted you to see it..."

Zay sounded dejected, and Aytin reached down to rub the boy's horns. "I did see it, though. It was a very nice lizard."

"Baby dragon!"

"It was a very nice baby dragon." A smile twitched on the older dragonette's lips. "But if you annoy it, he might go live somewhere else."

The little kid still sulked. "Wasn't annoying it!"

"When I was living with Faelon, he really liked his naps in the sun. If I had woken him up by poking him with a stick just to show him to someone, he probably would have eaten me."

Both of the boys' eyes widened. "Really?" Zay asked.

Aytin nodded soberly. "Really."

The pair of nestmates looked at each other. "We should say sorry," Tay said.

His brother bobbed his head vigorously in reply. "Sorry baby dragon!" he shouted into the crevice.

"Please don't go away or eat us when you get big!" Tay added.

"And what's all this about eating people?" a voice asked from behind.

It was his mother. He was surprised to see her up and about. Given the choice, he sure wouldn't have been, but there she was with a pair of cups in hand. She offered one to Aytin and sipped from the other.

"Good morning," he said as he accepted the drink and took a sip of the milky tea. "The boys found a baby dragon."

"Oh, did they?"

He nodded gravely. "It's in that crack over there. They're apologizing for chasing it away."

"Really?"

The boys had wandered over. They had their heads bowed and were wringing their hands like they'd been caught with fingers in the evening pudding.

Aytin decided to cut them a break.

"Well, they're very sorry," he explained. "And they promised not to do it again. Or poke it with sticks."

Playing along, his mother bent down to examine both of the would-be dragon tamers. "It sounds like they've learned their lesson, you think?"

"Oh, yes. Isn't that right, guys?"

Both kids started nodding so fast that Aytin half expected to see a horn go flying.

"We didn't mean t' scare the dragon, Auntie Norvie!" Tay insisted while Zay stood a step behind his brother looking up pleadingly at his aunt and cousin.

"I think you're probably right. They seem sorry enough. But," she added with the air of a magistrate putting a condition on her stay of execution. "Your mother sent me out here to fetch you for breakfast. You're not going to keep her waiting any longer, are you?"

"No Auntie Norvie!" they chorused.

"Get along, then."

The pair took off as fast as their stubby little legs could take them.

Aytin watched them go, no longer bothering to hide his grin.

"You're very good with them."

He shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. It was warm and helped to chase away the lingering effects of the last night's debauchery.

"They're nice kids," he finally answered. "And they listen to me."

"Well, it's good practice for when you have hatchlings of your own. Speaking of..."

Aytin sighed as his mother raised one eyeridge in question. "What's the rush? It's not like Zara has found a mate yet. Unless no one told me."

His mother waved the comment away. "No, we're still looking for a good match for your sister. But here, you have options. Like that nice looking woman you were with most of last evening. What about her?"

"Mother!" Aytin wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cringe. "That was Kesti Carnot! I killed her mother!"

"Really?" She looked more curious than dissuaded. "She sure wasn't acting like it. Or does she not know?"

"She knows. It's... It's complicated. And she's not interested."

At least, he hoped not. That would be... just weird. But, no, the adopted noblewoman knew about his plans to go back out to the frontier. And she hadn't so much as flirted with him the entire night, unlike a few of the other guests.

His mother still didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, definitively. "Besides, she's probably almost twice my age."

"Ah, a pity, then. The Carnots are a very prestigious family. But I recall you spending time with more than a few others. Did you manage to impress any of them?"

He sighed. "No idea."

A shadow passed over them as a girl wearing the bright colors of a messenger descended from above. She flared and came to a jogging stop, then walked purposefully to Cork's front door.

"Could that be an invitation to a more private meeting?" his mother asked with a conspiratorial flick of one ear.

Aytin gave a noncommittal grunt as he watched his uncle open the door and accept a package from the messenger. He handed her something in return, and she was off once more.

"You do need to find someone, Aytin." His mother's voice lost any hint of teasing as it grew serious. "You know how important it is to the family that we don't let any opportunities go to waste."

"But I don't-"

"And with all that happened to you, I want you to be happy. But we also have an enormous opportunity. Why, I had at least five people ask about you last night!"

"I just-"

"Even a Hashaw was impressed. They're all in the guard, so that's not easy, you know? And of course I made sure to mention your eligibility."

Aytin finally gave up and just drank more tea. His mother didn't let up for a moment as they walked back towards the house.

"-and I told them that of course you would be open to visiting Creemore Keep. That's right at the edge of the inner ring, and the lord in charge has a daughter just a couple years older than you. It's only a few days away from home, too. Really, the perfect place and I'm sure there will be room for you the next time they send a dragon crew that way."

Growing up, he might have heard this many words from his mother in a month. Now it was a never ending flood.

'I'm not sure which one is worse.'

A wall of noise greeted them as they stepped inside the house. The thick wood had blocked the worst of the noise as one of the boys - probably Tay - pitched a screaming fit. Even from up the entry hall, Aytin felt his ears dip involuntarily as the shrill cries did their best to deafen him.

Shouts from Shina only added to the chaos. Then Zay started crying, too, and the cacophony seemed poised to crack the foundations from sheer volume alone.

The sound muted somewhat as Cork slipped out of the dining room and shut the door behind him. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. The other held a handful of papers.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"They're a handful at that age." Aytin's mother was giving her brother a sympathetic look as he straightened.

For his part, Cork took the comment with good humor. A small smile emerged as he faced the pair. "Oh? And what did my nephew get up to in his youth? Was he a raging hellion like those two?"

"No, Aytin was actually well behaved." She paused for a moment and seemed to consider something before continuing. "You remember Zara, though? My oldest? Well, sometimes her tantrums would go on for days. Why, there was one time when I thought we had her settled down, and then we gave her a cup of water that was just a smidge too cold and there she was back at it again."

In fact, Aytin had vague memories of pitching a few fits of his own. He also remembered each time it was nannies who had settled him down. Apparently they had never mentioned them.

"Oh, before I forget, this came for you," Cork said, offering the envelope that he'd been holding. It was spotted with little drops of something unidentifiable, and the dragonette shrugged. "Sorry for the stains, but Tay was... well, you know." He cast a glance backwards where the screaming was somehow reaching new volumes.

Aytin's mother took the proffered envelope and read it over. "Addressed to 'Lord Luffin?'"

"I'm sure someone just got confused. I've seen it happen more than once."

But Aytin felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he watched his mother slit the linen with one talon and extracted the message from within.

The genial expression on her face quickly faded to be replaced by confusion. Her eyes flicked back to the top of the page, then back down. A finger traced down the message, line by line, until she reached the end.

Then she looked up.

"What is this?"

Aytin squirmed under her hard gaze as she brandished the sheet like it was a razor edged sword.

"What. Is. This?"

"How would I know?"

"How would you know? What I want to know is why there's a message asking when one Lord Aytin Luffin wants to meet with a bunch of prospective keep dwellers?"

There was nothing for it. Aytin looked up, met his mother's eyes, and said, "Because I asked for it."

"But why in the names of all the gods would you- Oh, is this about Faelon?" Her rising anger dimmed a little. "I know you feel bad for him, but I'm sure that he can afford to hire a proxy. He doesn't need you-"

"I promised him I'd do this!"

"That's ridiculous. Completely ridiculous." Her fingers tightened around the paper until the tips of her talons poked through the page. "Go put on something more presentable. We're going to get this straightened out right now."

"No."

She froze mid-step, one foot already on the stairwell. Her voice turned colder than a howling winter gale. "Excuse me?"

Aytin took a deep breath before answering. "I'm not going to stop helping Faelon."

"And what could have possibly possessed you to put our entire family name at risk just to make a broken dragon more comfortable? A dragon who already failed his duty to protect you!"

"Faelon saved my life over and over again! I'm not going to just abandon him out there. Even if he wasn't my friend, I have a responsibility to-"

"Your responsibility is with your family! The family whose name you used so casually. And you went behind my back to do it!"

The shouting from the dining room had gone silent. Neither of the pair noticed as the door creaked open and Shina peeked out. Aytin stared defiantly up at his mother as she glared back down at him.

"You're going to stop all of this. Now." Lady Luffin spoke as if delivering a pronouncement from the gods. "You feel responsible for that dragon? Fine. We'll find someone to make sure he's taken care of. Then you can fulfill your real responsibilities."

"Like what? Finding a rich mate from a good family? Because I'm not doing that, either. I already found someone!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Who? Where?"

"Her name is Rina and we met on the island."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "You said the island was deserted- No. No! Absolutely not!"

Aytin managed not to flinch as his mother's head shot forward until it was a hand's breadth away from his. Her lips were pulled back, exposing a mouth full of sharp teeth as she snarled, "My son will not take a wildling as a mate!"

"Yes I will!"

"You have a responsibility-"

"Responsibility?! What responsibility? To a family that left me to fucking die?!"

At that moment, a mouse squeak might as well have been a dragon's roar. His mother reeled back like she'd been punched in the gut. Cork and Shina could only watch in growing horror.

Lady Luffin drew herself back up. "You know what it would have cost us. Paying that insane ransom would have ruined the family!"

"So I guess I saved the family, then. How's that for doing my duty? My responsibility?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Or maybe you don't know what you're talking about!" Aytin was roaring now, not caring who heard as he vented years worth of frustration. "Who should I feel more responsibility for? The ones who fought and bled and died for me, or the family that packed me off the first chance they got?"

"After I came all this way, you-"

His snort of derision cut through the excuses. "First time for everything, I guess. Until I returned from the dead, you gave about as much of a shit about me as the eggshell I came out of!"

"I am your mother! If you think I could ever forget that then-"

"You want to know what the worst part was?" he shouted, ears pinned back and practically snarling. "The really gods awful thing about being the prisoner of a bunch of bloodthirsty murderers out on the edge of the frontier? I'll tell you. It was knowing, knowing that my own fucking mother wouldn't bother ransoming me."

At that, his mother slammed an open palm against the wall. The ringing crack nearly sent Aytin stumbling back a pace. "You might have been playing at being a noble here, but I have to actually be one! Do you think it's all honey and cider? That I can flap my wings and make everything better? Believe me, if I could do that then I would have a long time ago."

"Because it's so gods damn hard to come visit a kid in the nursery once in a while."

"You will shut your mouth this instant!"

"Or what?"

"I am the Lady Luffin and as long as you have that name you will do as I say!"

Something inside of Aytin snapped right then. Like a rope that had been slowly fraying until the last threads parted.

Without a word, he pushed past his mother and up the stairs.

"Where are you going?!"

He didn't answer. He just marched purposefully up to the guest room and walked inside.

His clothes were in a single drawer of the dresser. He yanked it open and started dumping the contents into his well worn backpack. It still held bits and pieces of gear he had never gotten around to unpacking. Camping equipment, a well worn blanket, some leftover travel rations. Also a small bundle of furs at the bottom that he hadn't remembered being there before. He shook it open only for a bracelet of bone and wooden beads to fall into his hands.

'Rina.'

She must have slipped it into his pack. Without even thinking about it, he tied the bracelet around his wrist before shouldering the bag. Then came his belt with money pouch and sheathed knife. He was out the door just as the sound of steps followed him upstairs.

His mother saw the bag and immediately drew the correct conclusion.

"No! You are staying right here until-"

He pushed right past her. A hand landed on his shoulder, but he ducked out from under it.

"Don't you just walk away from me! I am your mother! You will look at me when I am speaking to you!"

The shouted words might as well have been the sound of a breeze rustling the trees. Aytin walked down the stairs as calmly as could be.

The rest of the family was waiting for him.

"Thanks for everything Uncle Cork, Aunt Shina." He nodded back to the two who were standing, stunned. Aytin tried to give a tight smile, but got a look of utter betrayal from his uncle in reply.

He squatted a little, putting himself level with his cousins. "Tay, Zay." Both were whimpering, eyes glassy with tears. "You two take good care of that dragon, okay?"

Zay gave a jerky nod while Tay buried his face in his brother's wings and started bawling.

His hand was on the door when his mother finally came storming down the stairs.

"Aytin Luffin!"

For the barest moment, he paused. Then he shook his head slightly before pushing on through the doorway.

"You said as long as I have that name, I have to do what you say?" he called back, already halfway down the walk. "Fine. You won't have to worry about me using it ever again."

With those final words he spread his wings, got a running start, and leapt into the skies.

No one followed.

Aytin didn't know what he would have done if they had. In fact, he didn't know much of anything. His calm facade was as thin and brittle as a skim of ice atop a thawing pond.

Beneath it all, there was chaos. A roiling cauldron of emotion and half-formed thoughts. Regrets and plans and hopes, all bundled with frustration and rage and pain to form an incoherent mess.

He flew on, because he couldn't think of anything better to do.

Roads and buildings passed below, unseen. A handful of fellow fliers cursed as they dodged out of his path.

'It should be stormy.'

That was the first coherent thought that passed through Aytin's head, so many hundreds of wingbeats later. It was impossible to tell exactly how long. He'd circled the city at least once. Maybe more than once. The sun was shining, frustratingly bright as it began its descent towards a horizon pocked with high, puffy clouds.

At least the wind was picking up a bit. It gave him something to fight against. His shoulders burned nicely as he turned directly into the latest gust and beat hard against it.

The wind was relentless. A force of the gods themselves. Aytin welcomed it as the pain turned to outright agony and his breaths came in great gasps. He hadn't pushed himself so hard since his flight off of the island with Rina and Attalee.

It was cool for summer, but that didn't mean it was particularly cold. The invigorating warmth quickly turned oppressive. Panting wasn't enough to shed the heat of his straining muscles.

He knew what the tingling at the tips of his wings meant. The twitching in his tail. He was from the south, after all. Overheating was a fact of life.

A small part of him wanted to press on. Go until the world turned black and he fell out of the sky.

Despite everything, he wasn't ready for that. He still had people to live for. Faelon and Rina and Lin. And the memories of all the ones who had died when he had survived.

So Aytin locked his wings and surrendered to the wind. There was an open square not far off his path. He angled towards that.

It wasn't a graceful landing. Overtaxed muscles moved sluggishly or not at all. Then there were all the ribbons and streamers strung between the stalls. Not normally any sort of obstacle, but a nearly insurmountable challenge in his current state.

By some miracle, he made it down in one piece. A line of brightly colored flags caught around his neck and might have strangled him, but one end pulled free at the first tug. Then he was on the roughly cobbled ground, stumbling to a stop.

Someone was yelling at him. Aytin ignored it. He tried to furl his wings, only for the muscles to scream and cramp in protest. There wasn't anything for it. He left them half open as he walked past the shouting stall owner and onto one of the streets.

Just like before, he had no destination in mind. Passers glared as he forced them off to the side, wings taking up the space of three dragonettes. Their hissed curses never registered.

Thoughts were becoming a little more coherent. Mostly, they dealt with what would come next.

Not returning to his family. That wasn't going to happen. They would have to drag him by the tail, kicking and screaming. Clip his wings and chain him down to keep him from doing what he had to.

But how would he do it?

He had the money. He knew the right people. Only hours before, his plans had been slowly but surely moving along.

Would they survive this? Did something need to change? The trademaster had been sure that the king would make Faelon a noble. That hadn't happened, though. What was holding it up? Would it ever come through? If it didn't, what then? There couldn't be a keep without a noble. The crown wouldn't allow it.

The ideas came slowly, still disjointed. His feet carried him nowhere in particular as he finally managed to tuck his protesting wings in close.

Could I get the Carnots to take it? Hold it until Faelon gets the title? Would they give it back? Would Faelon allow them control at all? No, not a chance.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice as the walls of the streets got narrower. Leaves and rotting garbage were piled in corners, obscured by shadows as the sun began to dip towards the horizon. An unpleasantly musty smell wafted from barred doorways, mixing with the pervasive sickly-sweet scent of decay.

"Now, what's a little lordling like you doing back here?"

Aytin only stopped when he ran into something that hadn't been there a few moments before. A person.

"I think he's lost," a voice said from behind. "What do you think, Tar Thumb?"

The leader grinned, showing teeth. "Think you might just be right. Lucky for him he found us instead of some scoundrels."

"Lots of them 'round here," a third tough commented, offhand.

"But we're not like them." Tar Thumb loomed above, spreading her hands wide. "Me and my friends are happy to take you where you need to be. Make sure nothing happens to you. If you make it worth our while."

Aytin stared up, blankly. The words didn't really seem to register.

After a few moments, the leader's smile faded. "You hear me? Pay us and you'll make it out of here with all of your teeth!"

"Maybe he got dropped as a hatchling. Would explain the horn."

"I say just grab his stuff and leave him."

Tar Thumb bent down, almost kindly. "What do you think? You don't mind if we help ourselves, do you?" After a moment of silence, her grin returned. "I'm not hearing a no."

All the while, Aytin had barely moved. He knew that he should be doing something but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what. At least, not until Tar Thumb reached for his belt pouch, and the worn bronze knife sheathed next to it.

Suddenly, his thoughts crystalized into a single overwhelming wave of rage.

Aytin leapt, snarling incoherently. His target was bigger, but completely unprepared as he bowled her over. She fell back, landing hard on the dirty stone alleyway.

"What the fu-"

A wild fist struck the underside of her jaw with enough force to crack teeth. Blue blood speckled Aytin's face as the gang member shrieked past a tongue nearly bitten in half. The scream cut off abruptly as his next blow slammed her head back. The tip of one horn split and a trickle of blood oozed from it and onto the street.

"Oh, fuck! Get off of her!"

Hands grabbed Aytin by the wing roots and yanked him back.

Instinctively, he grabbed for his knife, drew, and thrust backwards, underneath his wing. It was a move that his brother Stonar had drilled into him back when they'd trained together, and despite the dull edge on the knife it came away dripping blue. The restraining hands disappeared in a flurry of cursing.

"To the hells with the guard! Fuck him up!"

Scrambling noises had Aytin turning to look back. One dragonette in shabby clothes was nursing a growing stain in his side and slowly backing away. Another was digging through a pile of trash. She came up with a length of wood as long as her arm.

The mental fog from before had lifted, and the all consuming rage was fading away. One look made it clear that the odds weren't great.

Sparing only long enough to deliver a raking kick to the prone Tar Thumb, he bolted.

In his current state, he couldn't go far or fast. Definitely no flying. The cramping in his back made that much clear.

Still, nowhere in the city was far from crowds. It was only a few steps, a sharp turn, and Aytin was back on one of the more traveled streets. He only slowed his sprint to a brisk walk once he rounded a corner.

There were plenty of people on the street. People heading home from work or the market or out to one of the many taverns. Somehow, most of the day had gone by in the fugue of pain and anger and crippling doubt.

As he joined in with the flow of dragonettes, Aytin finally took stock of his situation. He still had his backpack, his coins, his knife, and the rumpled clothes on his back. Which were, to be sure, conspicuously better than those of most of the people in view.

It wasn't the best part of town. A far cry from the fancy shops near the city center or some of the guild headquarters. He didn't even know where exactly he was. Nothing looked familiar, there wasn't much in the way of landmarks, and the royal palace was hidden from sight. A quick flight would have solved that problem, but...

'I need a place to rest.' At the rumble in his guts, he mentally added, 'And something to eat.'

A quick look around revealed he was in luck. There was a prominent sign with carvings of a mug of ale and a bed bracketing the words The Sweet Dragon above a rough carving of what might have charitably been a dragon. There was also an arrow pointing up a narrow set of stairs.

The door guard looked at him curiously as he approached. "Looking for something?" he asked, giving Aytin a once over.

"Food and a room."

"Well, that we can do. Talk to Reiker at the bar. And, uh, you have something. On your face." He made a vague motion around his muzzle.

Aytin reached up a hand. It came away with streaks of blue. The blood of the dragonette who he'd beaten into the ground.

"Thanks." He took a moment to wipe himself with the sleeve of his shirt and then pushed inside.

It looked like any number of inns around the city catering to dragon crew and travelers who couldn't afford nicer accommodations. A little rough, and a small but raucous crowd had already gathered despite the early hour. The place wasn't anywhere a prosperous noble would spend the night.

'Of course, I'm not one of those anymore.'

Mentally shaking himself, Aytin crossed the room and stepped up to the bar.

"How much for a room?"