Razorscale closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of sun on his wings again. The human competition went on below him, under the watchful eyes of the unicorn elite who had made themselves a viewing platform atop the wall. It was built of pure magic and large enough to fit Razorscale himself comfortably beside them, to say nothing of the smaller people as well. He had to be careful not to step on them. He’d missed that.

Razorscale felt his patience returning. Things that would have irritated him earlier — like Twig zipping about and narrating the goings-on, or Beak grooming her wings and sending feather dust everywhere — these barely caught his attention now. Windmane was comparing notes with Stomp about the return of their proper eyesight. Where Razorscale would have expected complaints, there was only relief and joy.

As it should be, Razorscale thought. I might not even bother to hunt down that human intermediary with the shop. I did plan to eat him, but it might not be worth it. He settled lower on the platform. The other humans would probably complain.

The human magicians who had been helpful while he and Silver were captured had left to rejoin their companions in a viewing box somewhere. They were properly respectful. At least some of the humans here could be trusted. He probably shouldn’t upset them with a messy execution.

And besides, the unicorns will catch up to him anyway. Razorscale smiled, eyes still closed. There’s no way he’ll be getting off lightly. I wonder if Harmony favors death magic, or if she’s not afraid to get her horn dirty.

Far below him, human magicians repaired the hole in the wall alongside the competition. Twig flitted past Razorscale’s ear, saying something complimentary about the green handkerchief that a human had given him for clothing. Windmane laughed at a joke from Beak, both of them sounding more lighthearted than they had in the entire time Razorscale had known them. The apprentice was silent, basking happily in the sun like Razorscale himself.

Then a mighty cheer rose from the stands, and Razorscale’s eyes flew open. Someone had won the contest. Someone that not all of the audience was in favor of.

The cluster of robed humans in the center of the field looked like any other. Razorscale glanced at the unicorns for a clue as to whether this was a favorable outcome. Four-Chord Harmony’s head and tail were both high, radiating smugness if Razorscale was any judge of body language.

Razorscale brought his head down to her level. “Are those the ones you wanted, then?” he asked casually. It wouldn’t do to let on that he had no idea who the new monarchs were.

=Oh yes,= Harmony replied. =They ought to give us no trouble, and at the same time they will upset our enemies immensely.=

“Really,” Razorscale said. (Never mind saving face; this sounded important.) “Do tell.”

=Those,= Harmony said, pointing with her horn, =Are the peasants.=

“The what?”

Her voice rang with delight. =The ones who weren’t supposed to win; they weren’t even meant to advance past the first round. Apparently the nobles here have convinced the entire nation that only some bloodlines can wield magic, but a group from the lower class has proved them wrong.=

“I did hear something about that,” Razorscale said, thinking back to the eavesdropping he did at the ball. “I’m surprised they were able to hone enough skill in secret to defeat the experts.”

=That’s the best part,= Harmony said, beaming. =They didn’t. The surprise round of the contest — that thing they were doing teleported elsewhere, with the viewport — it took place in a null magic chamber.=

“What?” Razorscale said again. “I should have watched more closely. Who decided on that?”

=The previous monarch. Knowing the usual level of corruption here, he set that ‘surprise’ and then told the candidates he favored how to prepare for it. But none of them planned for competitors who actually knew how to do things without magic!=

“Amazing,” Razorscale said. “And do we think those favored candidates were…?”

=Oh yes, I’m pretty sure that they’re the ones currently magicless and imprisoned. I’ll be keeping a close eye on this now-former ruler. Speaking of which, I should send some pixies to report on him. If you’ll excuse me.=

Harmony turned away. Razorscale bent to confer with his apprentice.

“Did you see into the viewport earlier?” he muttered.

“I caught a bit of it,” the apprentice said. “Something about compelling a donkey to move a certain distance without the help of magic.”

Razorscale laughed loudly at that, then had to apologize to the four non-dragons he’d startled by doing so.

“Anyways,” he said to his apprentice, “That’s all wonderfully humiliating for the right people. My only concern is whether it means we’re in for a resurgence of the wild times of human wizardry.”

The apprentice’s eyes widened. “Oh, I hope not. The world doesn’t need more bizarre near-human races. No offense.” This last was said over their shoulder to the centaur, harpy, minotaur, and pixie, not one of whom knew what they meant.

“What?” Twig asked.

“Ask your elders,” Razorscale said. “Or someone else’s elders. Someone with access to a library that’s older than your species.” He refused to explain further, and thankfully the pixie left it at that.

The apprentice looked thoughtful. “Four-Chord Harmony said that the new leaders will cooperate. Maybe we can impress upon them the importance of not letting their subjects create things without supervision of some kind.”

Razorscale nodded. “Yes, that was my thought. Intimidation and oversight as needed.”

When the pandemonium below settled into calm human pageantry, there proved to be a time for the new monarchs to give their regards to any visiting nobles or other important personages. Razorscale was gratified to see that he and Harmony were the first on the list. And Harmony didn’t need any suggestions about what to impress upon the humans.

=We congratulate you on your win,= she said to the nine humans on their own hovering platform. =And we look forward to working with you in a peaceful partnership. But I must warn you: based on your predecessors’ behavior, we will be watching MOST closely. Any sign of behavior that infringes upon other peoples will be punished harshly. And, given the cultural brainwashing that you have all suffered, we will be gifting your nation copies of some history books that I suggest EVERYONE reads.=

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

The spokeswoman for the group thanked her with the right mix of gratitude and humility. Razorscale only had to add a minor threat about unchecked magework, which they took well.

Then, to his surprise, the humans had a request.

“You may have noticed that we have some enemies,” the woman said. “Our supporters are largely in the lower class, while the nation’s most powerful people may stoop to underhanded means to get rid of us. While we deeply appreciate what you have already done to take out several bad actors, might we ask for some show of support from your various homelands?” She addressed this part to Razorscale and the small group at his side.

Razorscale thought about it while Twig and the others immediately volunteered.

“Of course!” Twig said. “My hive will happily be friends!”

“My herd too,” agreed Stomp. “For what it’s worth.”

“And mine,” said Windmane.

“Yeah, my people will do that,” Beak said. “You know, I’ll bet the orcs would throw in an endorsement too.”

Twig swooped in a circle. “And the gorgons!”

The human looked up at Razorscale pointedly.

He sighed. “Yes. While I won’t enjoy admitting what I went through, every dragon will want to know that this spell has been cast, and its casters neutralized. You will have dragon support as opponents of that.”

“Excellent!” the human said. “Even a simple public message of endorsement will do much to sway public opinion to a place where we can govern successfully. As much as the mage families hate us, they’ll think twice about acting against us if it means displeasing all of you.”

Razorscale nodded. “As they should.”

The talk turned to a brief discussion of details before the new monarchs were obliged to move on and greet other dignitaries. Before leaving, the spokeswoman made sure to impress upon Razorscale and the others that their goal was nothing short of an overhaul of the nation’s approach to magic. Not only would it be taught to all citizens, but its purpose would be for the betterment of the nation, not for political infighting.

Razorscale privately thought that was a bit much to expect from a ten-year reign, but he let them be idealistic. Who knew, maybe they’d surprise him and actually make headway. Stranger things had happened. Many in fact, and recently.

Things got a bit chaotic after that. Razorscale just wanted to spread his wings for home, but there were more conversations with officials to be had — mainly human, but some unicorn. Windmane wanted to be sure they didn’t leave behind the packs of belongings that were currently at some human’s house, and Twig wanted to say goodbye to the children there.

Razorscale sighed mightily enough to blow Twig off-course, and reminded himself that he was free to leave as soon as there was no nagging sense of responsibility. This was a historical event, after all. Better to tie up all the loose ends. Even if that meant waiting while low-ranking unicorns showed off their teleportation spells to ferry people back and forth.

The stadium emptied once the festivities were ended, which left the field as a meeting point that the humans could reach without straining their own abilities. By the time all the belongings were gathered and the farewells were said, the sun had lowered from its toasty peak to something less pleasant.

But Razorscale could be patient. And as much as he looked forward to flying again, the unicorns had offered to teleport the entire group back to their respective homes. As soon as they were ready.

“Hey, we should send a messenger to the dryads too,” Windmane suggested. “They’re a neutral party and all that, but I’m sure they don’t like the fact that the shape-stealing spell happened in their territory. And what if it had targeted them?”

Stomp agreed that that was a great point. So did the nearest unicorn. Razorscale stared at the sky and was patient.

Finally they were ready to leave. Razorscale and his apprentice said their goodbyes to Harmony, and then to the rest of the formerly-temporarily-humans.

“Thank you for everything,” Windmane said. “We wouldn’t have made it without you. Both of you! And thank you for the loan of your flying carpet; it really made life bearable.”

“Keep it,” Razorscale said. At her enthusiastic gratitude, he added, “Ah, it was just for moving stock around at the fair. I can get another one easily enough.”

“I will treasure it forever,” she assured him, which seemed a bit much, but who was he to judge?

Stomp also thanked him. “Your leadership was efficient and intelligent,” she said, both of which were true. “We were lucky to have you. And good luck with your studies, Silver! You are priceless as well.”

Both dragons dipped their heads in acknowledgement. Razorscale told her, “You have more leadership potential than you realize. I wish upon you both confidence and peace.” His apprentice nodded vigorously.

Beak was less sentimental. “What they said,” she told him. “It’s been a pleasure getting stuck in horrible circumstances with you.”

Razorscale smiled. “And with you. Fly well.”

The harpy had barely stepped aside before there was a pixie in his face.

“Hey, before we go, I was thinking,” Twig started.

“Oh no,” Razorscale said flatly.

“You know how some spells don’t go away completely? They leave traces behind, or they can be reactivated more easily than they should—”

“No,” Razorscale interrupted.

Twig kept talking. “I was wondering if this one, being a new thing and all, well what if we accidentally turn human again?”

“We won’t,” Razorscale told him.

“But how do you know for sure?” Twig insisted. “It’s new; no one’s studied it yet. I feel like we could get a random potion splashed on us, or sneeze while casting another spell, or just, I dunno, think too hard—”

“Don’t,” Razorscale said.

Too late.

The pixie, whose tiny brain fairly rattled in his skull as he moved, had thought too hard about it.

With a flutter of the handkerchief drifting toward the ground, Twig suddenly stood in human form. “Wow, I was right!”

Razorscale swore a blistering oath about egg yolks and salt. He had so hoped that none of them would think to try that. He’d seen the traces that were left as the spell failed. And of course it was Twig to do it!

While the assembled others exclaimed in surprise, Twig scrunched up his face again and popped back into pixie size. Then back and forth. While laughing wildly.

“LOOook at THIS!” he shouted, changing volume as he did.

Then, to make matters worse, the other three tried it too.

“Wow,” Stomp said as a human. She continued as a minotaur, “That’s a surprise.”

“Hey, nice,” Beak said. She flexed human fingers, then harpy wings. “If I want to prank the kids or pick up tiny things, this might actually be useful.”

Windmane was the last to try it, but once she saw the others return to their proper forms without issue, she gave it a go. She teetered on two feet and immediately changed back, but she smiled once she did. “This might help me NOT have nightmares about getting stuck as a human again.”

Twig zipped forward in pixie form. “Yeah, and you can learn to walk at your own pace!”

“Pfft, maybe.”

Beak craned her neck upwards. “You gonna give it a try, bigwing? Surely you can admit it’d be useful to be small sometimes.”

Razorscale huffed in exasperation. “I already could,” he said. “Shapeshifting is a master-level spell in most dragon schools.”

The apprentice spoke up. “I can’t wait to learn, honestly. It looks fun.”

“Don’t you start.” Razorscale frowned down at the youth.

Harmony stepped forward. =This is enlightening information about the spell. I recommend that you not spread the knowledge around.=

“Good luck,” Razorscale said while Twig practiced changing size in midair.

=Let me rephrase that,= she said more loudly. =If you must show off this ability, then you are obligated to explain that it was the result of a great crime committed upon you. And an offense to many.=

“Got it!” Twig said as he breezed by.

Razorscale sighed. “He might remember that.”

=Hmm.=

When Beak started the midair stunts too, with Stomp and Windmane cheering her on, Razorscale rolled his eyes and turned to his too-eager apprentice. “Home now,” he announced. “Goodbye, everyone! May we meet in better circumstances, or not at all.”

Beak waved at him. “Aw, we love you too! Fly well!”

Razorscale shook his head and caught the attention of the unicorn who was their designated teleporter. As soon as he and the apprentice were both standing with packs in hand, the unicorn waved a travel bubble around them.

Razorscale and his apprentice headed home at long last, leaving the sound of cheerful tomfoolery behind.

He wouldn’t admit it to a soul, but Razorscale planned to try this new shapeshifting as soon as his privacy was assured. It looked much easier than the master-level spell.

Not that he expected to ever use it, of course. Being human was unpleasant. But … just in case.