The words shuddered, breaking off into sparkling dust. In a sudden poof, the words disintegrated, becoming a shimmering cloud. The cloud hung in the air, for a moment—then darted at Valo, burying itself in his snout and maw.

Valo coughed and swatted his claws frantically as the dust raced down his throat and into his lungs, where it seemed to settle and seep into his body. After a moment, it passed, and he was left feeling a little dizzy.

“You’ll get used to that feeling.” The old woman smiled. “Try speaking.”

Valo nodded. He took a quick breath. He half expected yet another formless howl to come from his maw—but this time, something resembling a word rang forth. It was as if his maw knew what it had to do now—how it had to turn and twist to form the words.

The resulting word—a simple ‘hello’—was clumsy and strained, but it was unmistakably better than his last attempts at speaking. And as Valo tried again and again, his ‘hello’ became clearer and clearer.

“Hello. Hello. Hello,” he repeated, getting faster and faster with each repetition. He turned to the old woman, joy welling in his wide eyes. “Hello-hello-hello!”

The old woman smiled. “There—now we can have a proper conversation.” She nodded, then sighed. “I haven’t spoken to a dragon in half a decade.”

“You’ve… spoken to other dragons?” Valo asked, the words still new and fresh in his maw.

“Several.” The old woman nodded. “I suppose I should introduce myself… I am High Wizard Grettle.”

“H-High Wizard?” Valo froze.

Grettle huffed. “Rest assured, I’m retired.” She shook her head. “I was High Wizard Grettle. Now… Now I’m just an old woman, running a tavern for weary travelers. I’m… just Grettle.”

Valo narrowed his eyes at her, but quickly relaxed. If she meant him harm—as the only other High Wizard he knew of did, High Wizard Alzareth—then she’d already had plenty of opportunity to do it.

“Why… did you stop being a High Wizard?” Valo asked innocently.

Grettle huffed and turned her gaze back to the fire, deep in thought. “Most High Wizards would say they changed paths because the dragons left and took magic with them. Most Wizards only retired because they were forced to—not much Wizarding to do when there’s no magic left in the world, after all.” She sighed, a faint smile teasing the edge of her lips. “But I’m not like most Wizards—not in that regard, at least. I retired a couple years before the dragons disappeared. I was… tired of that life. Tired of all the days on the road, from one war to another. Tired of all the bl—” She pursed her lips, not wanting to recall those memories. “I stopped because I wanted to have a little place of my own. A tavern, with an inn. Simple. Peaceful.” She huffed and glanced at Valo. “Well, it was simple and peaceful, until you wandered in here.”

“M-Me?”

“You’re a dragon,” she said plainly. “Your very existence makes the world more complicated. Folks were just starting to get used to having to live without magic, and now…” She shrugged. “It’s not your fault—but it is going to make things very difficult for you.”

Valo turned his head to the side. “Difficult how?”

“Wizards aren’t the only ones who’ll be after you,” she explained. “Kings, dwarves… Gods forbid the elves learn of your existence. Every common human, too, will want you—want the power you represent. You’ll need to be careful.”

“I am careful.” Valo nodded.

Grettle gave him a flat look. “So careful that you wandered into a stranger’s room in the middle of the night?”

“That… This isn’t… I-I…” He pursed his lips. “Fair enough…”

“You’re lucky it was me who discovered you first.” She nodded back toward the warriors’ room. “Well, me and those warriors. Most folks would’ve done the unthinkable to you.”

Valo nodded. He’d encountered such people before, albeit at a distance—the hooded figures in the tavern. They’d—

Valo’s eyes went wide.

“The hooded men!” he exclaimed loudly, scrambling off his chair. “They’re going to rob my friends—”

“Oh, I was aware,” Grettle said with a smile. “I took care of them before I brought your friends their stew.”

“What do you mean you… took care of them?” Valo said. “Are they… your friends?”

The hatchling was fluent in all languages, of course—but that didn’t mean that he fully understood what someone was saying. In this case, he imagined the old woman feeding the hooded figures, as a mother might her offspring—taking care of them.

But Grettle meant something else entirely.

She frowned. “Friends? I can’t possibly be friends with someone who comes into my tavern with ill intentions. I knew they were up to no good from the moment they wandered through the door.” She smiled proudly. “Rest assured—your friends will be fine. Those men are… gone.”

Valo felt a sense of relief at that. Grettle had expelled them from hee tavern and sent them on their way—at least, that was what Valo thought she meant by 'gone'. The young dragon couldn't be blamed for his naivety, however—he was, after all, just a few days old at this point.

One question did pop into his mind, though. How did Grettle know about their bad intentions, exactly?

Valo craned his head, peering at Grettle. “How did you…”

“How did I know?” Grettle finished for him. She seemed eager to boast. “The horseshoe nailed to the door. I can sense the intentions of those who pass beneath it—whether they're good, bad, cruel or kind. It's a crude enchantment—quite crude compared to my older ones—but it's useful nonetheless.” She smiled proudly.

“Enchantment?” Valo asked, perking up. “Isn't that… magic? Everyone keeps telling me magic is gone.”

“It is,” she said, nodding. “But I made it years ago—when I walked away from the Wizarding life. Back then, magic was as saturated as the air.”

She looked at Valo as if her explanation had been sufficient—but it only raised more questions for him. Thankfully, she sensed his confusion.

“Think of magic like… like a flame,” she began to explain. She reached for something on top of the fireplace's mantle—an iron poker. “See this poker? It's cool to the touch. An unenchanted object is like this poker right now.” She plunged the poker into the flame. “And that fire… the fire is magic. A Wizard, or any common mage, really, plunges the thing they want to enchant into magical aether all around them.” She yanked the poker out of the fire, and it was glowing hot—a deep, smoking red. “And even when they stop, the object is still seeped in magic—or heat, in this poker's case.” She set the poker down beside the fire. “Magic might be gone, but the magic imbued into enchanted objects is still lingering. It's fading, though, and the enchantments are getting weaker by the day.” She chortled. “Hells, a few years ago, no one with bad intentions could even cross the threshold of the tavern. Now, I just get a little tingle when they do.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Valo nodded along as she explained—though he didn't entirely understand it. But he did understand one thing: if magic wasn't gone, it was certainly going.

He wondered how many other such enchantments were still humming away throughout the realm. Not many, he guessed—and fewer by the day, it seemed.

As the young dragon mused about them, he found himself… salivating? He felt himself desiring the enchanted objects—yearning to possess them. He’d felt it before, briefly, but now the feeling had an irresistible hold over him.

“Can I perhaps…” Valo ventured, “have the horseshoe—”

“No.” Grettle gave him a flat look. “And don't try to steal it, either. That instinct of yours is powerful—irresistible to many of your kind.”

“Instinct?” Valo asked. “What instinct?”

“To hoard,” she answered. “To acquire rare, valuable things. Gold, jewels… enchanted objects.” She shook her head. “It's been the ruin of many dragons.”

Just then, words flashed before his eyes—a new Skill formed in the air before him.

BASIC Skill acquired: Covetous Urge (Lv. 1)

As a dragon, you desire valuable objects to fill your Lair. Successfully acquiring a valuable object and securing it in any of your Lairs grants you a unique bonus.

“Ah,” Grettle said, raising her brows. “First time you’ve felt that, eh? Unlocked… what was it called? Covetous Drive?”

“Covetous Urge,” Valo corrected. “How’d you know that?”

Grettle smiled. “When a dragon glances off and stares at the air, it tends to mean they’ve unlocked something—a Skill, an Incantation…”

“There’s more than just Skills?” Valo asked, raising his brows in surprise. “

Grettle guffawed. “Oh, young one, there’s so much more.” She smiled at him kindly.

Valo huffed. Grettle seemed to know more about being a dragon than he did. He’d learned a thing or two about her kind, too—humans—but he doubted that he could match Grettle’s knowledge about his kind. He’d learned that humans prefer warm meat over cold, that they didn’t like it when he breathed fire, and that they always had a snarky comment to make. Beyond that, he didn’t know much.

Grettle, on the other hand, knew things even Valo himself didn’t know. She knew things that Valo wanted to know—he wanted to know more about what it meant to be a dragon.

But there were no other dragons to learn from. Humans, he supposed, learned what it meant to be human from one another—but Valo had no such luxury. He didn’t know what a dragon did, or ought to be doing. He didn’t know what Skills he could learn. He didn’t know if he could use magic. He was stumbling through the darkness of the world as its last dragon—alone.

The feeling evidently washed up onto his face as Grettle peered at him curiously.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I just…” He pursed his maw. “The fact there aren’t any other dragon just sank in…” He looked down, then craned his head up, meeting Grettle’s eye. “Can you… Can you teach me?”

“Teach you?” Grettle asked, quirking a brow. “How to… be a dragon?”

Valo nodded enthusiastically.

Grettle shook her head and sighed. “I know many things—about herbs, about innkeeping, about magic.” She met his eye. “About dragons.” She turned back to the fire. “But I don’t know what it means to be a dragon. Truth be told, I’ve already told you most of what I know. Dragons kept their secrets close, and the little I managed to glean was purely incidental. Had I told another soul what I’ve just told you, before the dragons disappeared, I’d soon find myself in the claws of an Elder Dragon, being hauled before his kin.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I couldn’t teach you much—aside from how to make a very… restful stew.”

Valo looked down, disappointed.

But Grettle did have some consolation to offer him.

“I have exhausted my knowledge,” she continued. “But there are others who know more—others whose bonds with dragons exceeded the human mages’ bonds.” She paused, as if hesitated to say it. “The dwarves.”

“The dwarves?” Valo asked.

He hadn’t encountered a dwarf before—but the warriors had mentioned them, once, while they were deciding which direction to travel in. Valo didn’t recall much from that conversation—just that the dwarves occupied most of the south, and that they, too, were wrestling with the aftermath of the dragons’ disappearance.

Grettle nodded. “The dwarves had a… unique relationship with the dragons. The elves did, too—but I think you’ll find the dwarves much more welcoming.” A serious look washed over her face. “But be careful. Before your kin disappeared, no dwarf would mean you harm.” She sighed. “But now… now anything’s possible.” She paused. “Be careful,” she warned, again.

Valo nodded solemnly.

Grettle let out a sudden, exasperated gasp, which was quickly eclipsed by a yawn. “I’m going to call it a night.” She rocked onto her feet with a groan, her aging bones clicking as she stood up. She shuffled over to her bed.

Valo hopped off from the chair and plodded over to the door, leaving Grettle to rest. As he crossed over the threshold, though, she spoke up.

“Just so I know for the future,” she hummed, idly preparing her bed, “what’s your name, young one?”

He craned his head around. “Valo,” he answered simply.

“Valo…” she said, nodding. “I look forward to hearing the hushed murmurs that will certainly come to my tavern, in these next few years, Valo.”

Valo nodded, then continued over the threshold. The same mysterious, whispering wind that’d beckoned him to enter Grettle’s room now curled at his back, its cool touch ushering him out. When he was entirely over the threshold, the wind darted back into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, a loud thud echoing through the narrow, dim corridor.

As he stood in the dark corridor, taking in the cool air, he found his mind drifting back to his conversation with Grettle—and to the future.

When the warriors had found him, they’d debated what they were going to do—they debated going north, west, east, and south. They each made proposals and had their proposals shot down by the others. They argued and argued over it, and they still hadn’t come up with anything solid yet.

But through all their arguing, they hadn’t actually asked Valo what he wanted to do.

Valo didn’t blame them for it. After all, until now, he couldn’t exactly tell them that—because he couldn’t speak, of course, but also because he himself didn’t know. He had no idea what he wanted to do, nor where he wanted to go. He didn’t know the various dangers that lay waiting in the north, the west, the east, or the south. He didn’t know what a dragon ought to be doing, let alone where one ought to be going. He hadn’t even thought about what he wanted—well, aside from another chunk of meat from Holly’s backpack.

But he had thought about it now. As he stood in the cool corridor, he picked at the question in his mind, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. What did he want to do? Where did he want to go?

What was a dragon supposed to do, and where was he supposed to go?

Where had his kin—the other dragons—gone, and why?

Questions hummed through his mind. He had far, far more questions than he had answers.

But, slowly, an idea began to form—an idea of what he would do.

What he needed to do.

He needed to find out what happened to his kin. That would, at least, start to answer some of his questions. If he found the other dragons, perhaps he could ask them to answer some of his questions. Even just one other dragon would be able to answer all of his questions.

All he had to do was find another dragon—if one existed. Then again, he was still here. He couldn’t be the only dragon in the entire realm…

Could he?