Returning towards the watchtower, the warning horn blows again, and I roll my eyes, but at least it suits our purpose. Driezyln’s approach is accompanied by fifteen other dragons ranging from young adult into adults nearing ancient status. That seems a bit overkill for patrolling some humans and kobolds, but whatever I guess.

Apparently chagrined and somewhat able to guess what I’m thinking, Driezyln resumes human form in order to address me, “Welcome back, that erm, was really quick. I assume auntie—?”

Sighing and nodding, I barely have the heart to start to respond, but thankfully Driezyln cuts me off to announce, “She Who Burns has been slain! We have the Hero of the Onyx Dawn to thank, having taken time from their war against Terrorzin to aid us. How shall we show our gratitude cousins?”

Furrowing my brow, I’m starting to wonder if auntie and cousins are just terms of endearment rather than biological relations to Driezyln. I guess I don’t really care one way or another though. I’m worried that this might start some trouble, or some hassle that I don’t need, but Driezyln once again beats me to the punch by answering their own posed question, “I propose, we protect, and serve, because the Onyx Dawn values life, all of it! Come, head home to claim, then distribute auntie’s hoard, share with, and protect those weaker than us!”

Blinking several times, my lower jaw juts forward appreciatively as I take in Driezyln’s words. More importantly, I’m able to take in and ascertain that the other fifteen dragons are in agreement, seemingly swayed to do just about anything Driezyln might ask. Hey, if they’re up for protecting the Aasimovians and kobolds, that's just fantastic by me.

A nervous Trixxie is delivered by a dragon whose scale-color I can’t tell in the flickering lightning of the Worldstorm. She hops down to be caught by Driezyln, and blushes furiously in the arms of the Sand. Driezyln makes nothing of it while helping Trixxie to her feet, in order to rejoin us.

Curious where to go to find my friends amongst the refugees, I ask, “Driezyln, were you able to deliver the hole to Tiago? Where is he set up currently?”

Pointing to the southwest, Driezyln states, “Three and a half or so miles that way, you’ll find the remains of the capitol, up against the next batch of mountains from this range. I hope I’ve done your Lady proud. The other twelve would like to join the Onyx Dawn.”

I barely refrain from choking on my own tongue or coughing in surprise. Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “The other twelve?”

Nodding emphatically, Driezyln states, “Auntie’s other consorts. I suppose some of them are hoping to be chosen as your lady Kinzul’s consorts, but they are all powerful, if a bit rusty at displaying it. It comes with being as ancient as they are I suppose.”

My face won’t stop twitching, as my eyebrow tries to raise beyond my ability to control it. I’m not worried or jealous. Kinzul can have as many mates and consorts as she likes, but I’m more than a tad surprised that there are twelve other ancient dragons out here somewhere just hanging around. I—, ugh. I bet they’re in human form, sent to sort of emphasize the ever-present threat. Oh, wait. Fourteen consorts? I—. Two for each day of the week. Oh ew, I really didn’t need to know that about her. I barely fight facepalming. Still, as awkward as having that knowledge is, it does humanize Qlaxi further, err, dragonize her, whatever. Huff. I mean, she had a sexual appetite, and worked out ways to have her needs filled I guess. Ew, phrasing, I mean met, have her needs met.

My own nodding is less emphatic, and more a muted acceptance of fact, a grateful motion to prompt any continued speech. When none is offered, I offer up, “Thank you, yes, I suppose we’ll find them at the same location, in human form then?”

Driezyln’s nod is affirmation enough as he answers, “Aye. Sharp mind you’ve got. The old ones sit in on the human council of elders after, um, the incidents. I hope you won’t hold it against us. We—. It’s awful to say this. We were just following—. I can’t even finish it. It’s horrible. Not many lives were lost, but lives were lost. No, I’m sorry, taken. When they first arrived, auntie wanted to impress upon them the threat of settling here, while also demanding that they do so. We offered assistance finishing their sojourn from the swamps to the ruins, but at a price. It was extortion, but it only needed to be extortion, not escalate. A small band of humans, a very burly, angry woman at their fore, they—.”

Holding up a hand, I gulp back my feelings. I know how this story is going to end, and I know who is being spoken of. I can’t handle it right now. Driezyln has done everything possible to be on my best side. I can’t let my wrath out at this news. He’s regretful, and may not even have been one of the ones to take lives. He’s offering up responsibility by owning up to this and delivering the news. I need to remind myself, the person behind the extortion, and assault, or response to the attack, lay slain in her domain. Even that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth though. Senseless death surrounds me. Sighing, I nod at Driezyln when they ask if they can go facilitate things.

Conjuring our horses, Lil assumes his human form, and Trixxie abashedly mounts up behind him as Lu carries Lucky, while I ride at the fore of our procession. It’s only a few moments of quiet ride to our destination. Well, as quiet as anything can be beneath Rayileklia’s ever-present, always-thundering Worldstorm. Oh wait. Crap. No one’s going to recognize me with these horns and this tail, are they? Ugh. They don’t know Lu or Lil or Lucky either.

Maybe they’ll recognize my ghostly horses? I’d been using them, and providing them, often, while with the refugees. I’m the only archmage that most of these people know, and I do have most of my features intact, plus some fairly distinct armor—. If I were wearing Valkyrie armor. I forgot that I switched it out of the QCR for The Platinum’s robe. I could swap into a set of Valkyrie armor that I keep around for FFS, but that would mean dismounting, disrobing, and then equipping things. That seems pointless.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

At this point, I just want to reunite with Tiktik, even if I have to prove that I am who I say I am. Well, I mean, we are psychically bonded. The headache should only interfere with that a little bit. I’m not sure I want to risk sharing psychic pain with her or my inner circle by communicating or reaching out too much with my brain though. Plus, Tiktik knows at least one brainblast aegis spell, and those interfere with psychic communications if she has one up. If—, I gulp, if she survived.

Full of lamentations at the moment, I’m imagining how I’ll approach Tiktik after having spent months apart. I sigh sadly, feeling like a jerk for showing up when I want to request a favor, instead of having found a way to be able to get here earlier during this war. I’ve had like, one or two free days since the start of the war. I could have requested someone transport me out here, right? Huff, maybe.

Distracted by my own thoughts, I almost don’t hear a familiar voice exclaim, “Dios!” as we trot our horses through ruins of what might have been a fortress city, a great and enterprising metropolitan capitol in the past. My eyes fly wide as my head flits side to side, glancing about for the source of the voice.

Almost crying, Tiago lambasts me, “Little Shellcracker, friend, Reggie, is it you? What ever happened to you? Por que los estos? Queremos a—. Sorry, oh no. Where is your Teuila? Not after all that. Not after all that heartbreak you suffered.”

Gulping back a quick sob, remembering how lost I’d felt when I thought I’d lost Teuila permanently to Olashax’s ice, I quickly respond, “No, yes, I mean, it’s me, Tiago, yes. These are the rest of my inner circle, our Shellcracker Adventuring Party that I’d told you about. That’s Lil, please don’t freak out that he’s a dragon, they aren’t all like these ones, I swear. Luni is over there with our son Lucky in her arms. The um, lovely scaly woman is our prisoner of war, Trixxie to her friends, which I hope we can become, to drop the prisoner nonsense eventually. As far as my current state. I uh. Hell I can’t lie to you. Crap.”

Sighing for a moment, I dismount and fall into Tiago’s offered hug, sweeping him into a rocking embrace in return. I whisper, “It doesn’t need to get around, but I died again, just barely under the boon of a reincarnation effect of chaos magic. So now I think I’m part succubus, or incubus.”

There’s more than a hint of blush and surprise crossing Tiago’s visage as he hears my admittance. He steps out of our embrace to raise an eyebrow at me. Chagrined, I offer up, “Erm, well, we’re kind of here about maybe delivering some people into your care, like the injured woman that the dragon brought. Only, well, one of them is petrified, and I know Tiktik can cure that. I, I just. Is, glp, is she okay?”

When Tiago puffs a sigh as his visage brightens into a smile, my worries begin to melt away. He further assuages me by confirming, “Dios that little rascal. Okay? Is she okay? That should be, are *we* okay? Dealing with regularly scheduled pranks spooking the hell out of us. Like clockwork. Actually any minute now, *something* should happen, not that I’ve any clue what to expect from the deranged little woman, delightful though the young miss Clocktok is.”

Like clockwork indeed, as if summoned by Tiago’s statement, I hear a familiar voice yelling out, “Clear the way! Clear the way! Goose on the loose! Don’t slip on the feathers or poop!”

Lil begins giggling immediately, but I’m a tad mortified as I see Tiktik chasing a horse-sized goose through the shambled streets of the once-great city. Tiktik spies me, does a double take, looks me up and down again, and does a double take again. Then she looks between her scheduled prank, and me, and does a doubletake again, before she blasts the goose with some massive spell that sends it poofing into the ether in a flurry of feathers. She ends her visual comedy to dash at me with crazed, wild eyes.

Smiling her way, I spread my arms wide as I greet her, “Heya Kitten. Long time no see.”

The gleeful shout of, “Tiger!” could probably be heard all the way out to the watchtower from here, but I couldn’t really care less about that right now. The gorgeous goblinoid gal that I call my Kitten leaps at me with the ferocity of a tiger pouncing on its prey. I’m giddy as I catch and then swing Tiktik about in an embrace. My Kitten wriggles free of my grip, uses her giant magical hand to twirl her hair before picking herself up by the tush with it. She grabs me by the face, and leans in to lay one on me passionately.

Sinking into the kiss, one we hadn’t shared on our final night together in the swamps, I blush to high heavens. I’m at the point where I could weld tungsten with my cheeks, and I can feel Luni getting the slightest bit jealous behind me, when Tiktik finally lets me loose of her wild kiss. I’m a bit dazed. I mean, I love the affection, and I love this adorable, zany Fae woman, but I wasn’t expecting that sort of hello. I blink rapidly as I try not to stagger around in a drunken stupor from the effect.

While I’m dazed, Tiktik floats around me to ponder, “Let me guess, these would be Luni with Lucky, and, uh, I guess if all dragons can do what these dragons can do, you’re Lil?” before greeting them, “Anyway, Tiktik Clocktok urban bountyhunter extraordinaire, put ‘er there!”

Before I can warn him, Lil puts out a hand to shake Tiktik’s hand, meeting the whoopee cushion she instantly conjures, loosing the trademark pfpfpfpfttt sound. Lil giggles as Tiktik teases about passing gas, but I stand agog when Tiktik introduces herself to Luni, in the same way, and Lu falls for the exact same stunt.

Luni grumps telepathically, “I didn’t expect her to do it again! She’s, hah, she’s so silly! Okay, fine, I get why you like her. She’s stupid-adorbs.”

At first I thought Luni was insulting Tiktik, but it took me only a moment to realize she meant massively adorable. It’s true, Tiktik is exactly that. Poking around my far-too-many psychic wavelengths, I cast my senses around for the one that lines up with Tiktik. Thankfully, in not-too-long a time, I’m able to find it, and even spot Tiktik materializing her telepathic avatar into thinkspace, since she shares Teuila’s link into the Shellcracker thinkspace that Bud formed for us. Poor Bud. Still no change since Autumn Brook.

Sighing, knowing we have to get home to deal with a siege, that we’re on a time limit, I start to try to address reasons I’ve stopped by, “Kitten, I’ve got someone who’s been petrified by magic, and I really need your greater moderate cureall thingy—.”

Sadly, Tiktik’s telepathic avatar pouts towards me with puppydog eyes as she responds, “I’m so sorry Tiger. That spell costs a bunch of diamond dust as a reagent to be able to cast, and the kobolds have been needing and eating all the few gems we had left with the dragon business going on, and, and stuff. I, I don’t think we have any.”

Smiling down into Tiktik’s big, wide, sad eyes, I’m able to retort, “On that front, my dear Kitten, I’ve got you covered.”

Returning to meatspace, I begin to fish out the hoard of gems I’d saved from, well, Qlaxi’s hoard. Sighing, I rattle my skull at myself, unable to stop using a cutesie nickname for the, erm, domain’s previous overlord. I barely caught myself in time to refrain from calling her the sex-crazed dragon lady. Facepalming, I shake my head at myself.