By the time Sable set Aylin down in the town square, people were screaming and fleeing, the city in an uproar.

Aylin observed the chaos, her mistress raising back into the air with enormous flaps of her wings, buffeting the ground and sending pebbles skirting across pavement. The forcefulness of the motion pressed down on Aylin as she stood there, faking composure, watching people scramble about in their panic. The experience was a bit surreal.

Aylin had always expected to find some bigger purpose in her life, but that it had arrived so quickly, and in such a bizarre way? A dragon? One that had chosen her to join her thrall? And now here Aylin was, about to negotiate that same dragon’s first city subjugation? It was all a bit much.

Subjugation. Was that the right word? Mistress Sable was … odd for a dragon. Not that Aylin could know that for sure, seeing how the last had died centuries ago, but according to the stories, Sable didn’t act entirely how a dragon ought to. Arrogant and greedy, yes, but less vicious than expected—and more than that, decidedly not capricious. Sable planned. While callous when describing her plans and motivations, even to the point of being cruel—though she’d never actually done anything monstrous, only talked about it—she was, ultimately, surprisingly careful.

Dragons were supposed to be dumb brutes. Clever in the wicked way of predators, but not intelligent. Not in the way of people.

Because if they were the latter, too—vicious, overwhelmingly powerful, and intelligent—how could they have ever been driven extinct? It was their brutishness and ease to exploit that had resulted in their fall.

So what did it mean, then, that her mistress was careful? That she made plans and didn’t blindly pursue reputation and wealth? She certainly pursued it, but not in the way of dragons in the past.

Was Aylin bearing witness to the birth of a new age? A breed of dragons even more dangerous than the ones before?

These thoughts flicked through her head as she stood there, watching people scream and panic around her. She was, of course, the subject of no small attention herself. Though the civilians were in chaos, some of the soldiers, at least, had gathered themselves. They were surrounding Aylin, though from a careful distance, eying her warily as they did so.

That was fortunate. There’d been a good chance she would have been attacked by animal instinct, being the clear ally of a dragon who was circling above their city. Their better senses had kept control, though. They recognized Aylin’s passive stance, her lack of intent to attack.

And the way they watched her—it bordered on humorous, honestly. Aylin might now be classed, and so a fighter of no small threat, but she was inexperienced with her skills, only level one, and vastly outnumbered. If it did come to a fight, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Though she supposed they couldn’t know that.

Still. Her, being stared at in fear, as if she were the enormous white-scaled creature circling the city. Definitely a first. Aylin didn’t particularly like it. Not because she disliked being feared—the respect kind of tickled her, honestly—but because it felt unearned. Her entire reputation was tied to Sable. And that would always be true, but that didn’t mean Aylin couldn’t earn some repute of her own.

Eventually, the town square had cleared, civilians taking shelter or otherwise fleeing from the open space. Only the guards remained in plain sight, though some curious civilians peeked from underneath stalls or whatever makeshift hiding place they’d found in their scramble. Sable’s arrival had created an understandable panic. The first time Sable had descended onto her, too, Aylin had scrambled away. It was a reaction baked into her existence. Into all creatures. Everything ran from dragons.

And that had been before Sable had gotten a skill that amplified terror, which she had used liberally to whip the townsfolk into a panicked frenzy.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Finally, after several minutes, the chaos stilling bit by bit, and with Aylin just standing there, watching the gathering groups of soldiers and guardsmen with a cool gaze, someone in charge approached her.

The woman had an air of a person accustomed to authority; Aylin recognized it in an instant. She seemed to be one of the only people in the town square who, while not at ease, was at least not tense. Her eyes flicked into the sky, and though Aylin didn’t match the glance, she knew the woman was keeping tabs on the white-scaled beast encircling the city.

“You there,” she called out, stopping sharply ten paces out. Her hand rested on her belt, not on her sword, but pointedly near it. “What is the meaning of this?”

It was Aylin’s time to shine, then. She’d been rallying herself for this moment, and now that it had arrived, she had an act to put on. Had to pretend she was bigger than she was. Not just some random girl from a southern clan, but the chosen champion of the first dragon in centuries.

Surprisingly, Aylin’s response came loud and clear. It didn’t waver in the slightest. Aylin was far from timid, but maintaining confidence in a situation as bizarre as this would be hard for anyone, she figured. So that she did—she appreciated it, even if it surprised her.

“My mistress demands an audience,” Aylin called out, her voice as level as the other woman’s. “Do you have the authority to arrange this?”

The woman studied her. Her eyes flicked up, a second time, to Sable, then back down. “My name is Captain Rozita. Third in command of the local garrison. Battalion-Leader Alaniz should be here shortly, but for now, I can speak in his stead.”

Huh. She was taking Aylin seriously. A northern city’s captain. Despite how obvious it was that Aylin should be treated with care, it felt surreal. People taking her seriously. That hadn’t been a thing since … ever. However much Aylin had always been top of her class in spars, she’d still just been ‘the orphan’.

“Good,” Aylin replied. “But there’s little to discuss. Lady Sable wishes to speak to your city’s chieftain, and any commanders of relevance. She suggests you arrange this quickly.”

A third glance up, then back down, and Captain Rozita frowned. A second later, she inclined her head, then withdrew to her soldiers, who continued to stream in.

Aylin felt the militant organization pointless. What use was gathering in the town square? Even they had to recognize Aylin wasn’t the real threat.

Though, there wasn’t much way to prepare for a dragon, not even a powerful northern clan. Maybe they had a smattering of classed warriors who could maybe harm Sable, but that was up to chance—or rather, Aylin was too ignorant to know.

[They’re disciplined,] Sable mused from high above. [They’ve manned the walls. Fourteen ballistae. Does that mean there’s other airborne enemies they worry about? Or are the siege weapons for defending from enemy armies?]

A dragon that understood—immediately from birth—warfare and tactics. Aylin seriously wondered what was going on with her mistress.

In preparation for this event, she and Sable had discovered the telepathic link worked two ways. It faded with distance, and Sable came in faint, if still clear. Aylin had to focus to reply. Her thoughts were her own unless she wanted to project them. At least, she thought so.

[I figure both,] Aylin replied. [The Red Plains are dangerous, not just other tribes.]

[I wonder if the bolts would hurt me,] Sable said. [Not that they could reach from this height. And even if I were closer, aiming has to be close to impossible. They’d be ineffective.]

Well, ineffective to her, probably. The City of Skatikk probably hadn’t expected to have to fight dragons with their ballistae.

Though a hundred times more prepared for this fight than Aylin’s clan might have been, she didn’t think the city would stand much of a chance. Honestly, if Sable was clever, there would genuinely be nothing they could do. Why not drop burning trees into the city like she had before, at Gadenrock?

Most dragons, Aylin figured would be too prideful to do something sneaky like that, and would force the city into a more direct form of combat. But Aylin didn’t get that impression from Sable. While prideful, could she be exploited by it? Well, perhaps to some extent, but in an obvious manner, in face of great danger? No, she didn’t think so.

Eventually, the Battalion-Leader arrived. After a brief discussion with Rozita, they approached Aylin, grim-faced.

“You wish to speak,” Alaniz said.

“Lady Sable does,” Aylin corrected. “I speak as her champion.”

“To what purpose?”

“This will be discussed with your chieftain, Battalion-Leader.”

Scolding one of the highest-ranking military commanders in the city. Now that was something even Aylin found herself surprised by. Maybe this whole putting-on-an-act thing was coming easier than she’d thought. Because it flowed so naturally. So haughtily and impetuously, as if she were channeling Sable herself.

The Battalion-Leader’s face darkened at being spoken to in such a dismissive manner—much less from a youth like Aylin—but he nodded sharply. Her mistress’s authority carried enough weight for him to accept the disrespect without comment.

“Come with me,” he said.