The salty sea air whipped Adam, but the sickness in his gut was not because of the scent upon the air, or the noise of the docks that drowned out his thoughts, but the sight of the beautiful woman opposite him. With hair as black as the starless night, and eyes which were more blue than they were grey, but betrayed her relation to the North’s duchal family.

‘Must we travel with them?’ Sir Roseia thought. ‘I should have requested Sir Karra’s company.’ She stood beside her distant cousin, Princess Adda, her eyes darting between the Iyrmen, and the leaf ear. 'Divine take them.'

"The Savage, wasn't it?" the Captain of the ship asked, reaching out to shake Jurot's forearm. He was middle aged, though his thick beard held streaks of white, as though salted by the wind. He wore all black, save for his cloak, a deep blue, like the ocean, pinned to a bronze medallion weathered with patena.

"Yes."

"They say yer the Mad Dog's grandson."

"Yes."

"Good thing, that! Bet fifty gold on you winning the tournament." He whistled, raising his brows with delight. "Got my wife a new fur coat, and my mistress, a silver necklace." He cackled with delight, patting Jurot on the side.

Another sailor, a woman in her thirties, shuffled beside Kitool. She wore her insecurity like an Iyrman wore their lust for blood, and her outfit, grey, was pale and worn. "I bet ten gold on you, miss."

Kitool bowed her head. "I hope you enjoy your winnings."

The sailor smiled, looking out to the sea. "I bought a potion, and a new blade. Keep it in my bunk, for nows."

Kitool slowly bowed her head, glancing around to notice few sailors wore blades at their side, though all carried clubs.

Adam and Jaygak glanced between one another, shrugging their shoulders. Though they placed well, they did wear full plate during the tournament, and right now, the pair were unarmoured, since they were upon a ship.

"Let's pray the wind carries us," the Captain said, patting Jurot's side again, before bowing his head, and tipping his hat to the Princess and Sir Roseia, then finally, to Sir Wick.

"Shall we take to our quarters?" Roseia asked.

"We should speak with our companions," Adda replied, eyeing up the eight.

"Iyrmen, elf, and..." Sir Roseia glared at the pair of demons. 'Divine take them.'

Adam stared out at the sea as the ship made its way southward. 'No trouble until West Fort?' Adam glanced towards Sir Wick, who, like the rest of them, decided against wearing armour. 'The Grand Duchess didn't assign more to the Princess and the King's Sword's daughter?'

As the ship sailed onto the open sea, escorted by two ships, each belonging to the navy of the North, considering their deep blue sails, emblazoned with the symbol of the Blacksnow family, that of a black rose, outlined in white.

"Adam?" Jaygak asked.

"Yeah?"

"Did you tempt Fate?"

"No?" Adam replied, following her eye line, squinting his eyes. It wasn't hard to see it. 'Oh. Come on.'

The Captain peeked through his spy glass. 'Ah, damn it. Let's hope it's not one of them.'

The bronze scales shimmered under the noon sun, the mighty wings still as it glided towards the ship, laughing wildly, its roars rumbling all across the sailors as it circled up around the ship.

"Captain! May I come aboard?" the deep, gravelly voice called, before it continued to chuckle.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I won't refuse you, good Lord."

"Lord?" The bronze dragon laughed once more, before its wings shifted, and it slowly began to fall onto the ship. Its body grew smaller and smaller, until it finally took the shape of a dark skinned drakken, with bronze scales, and a set of large horns upon his head.

His eyes darted between them all, before they rested upon the young woman before him. "I smelt a familiar scent, so I thought to say hello."

"Many blessings upon you, Lord Keswing," Sir Roseia greeted the bronze dragon, before bowing her head lightly.

"You must be his daughter?" Keswing said, her scent familiar, but mixed with another. "Granddaughter, perhaps? No, you're too old to be his granddaughter?"

"Daughter," Roseia confirmed. "It's an honour to meet you."

"An honour to meet me?" Keswing's throat shuddered as he chuckled, before he opened his mouth to laugh. "Ah. It has been some time since I've taken such a form." He reached up to rub his throat.

Adam threw Jurot a look, raising his brows, but Jurot shook his head.

"So many familiar scents," Keswing said, his eyes then falling upon Jurot. "You must be a Gek."

"I am Jurot."

"Rot?" Keswing tilted his head. "Are you related to the Gek family?"

"Yes."

"How is..." Keswing paused to think. "No, it's been so many years since then, he must be dead now."

"Yes."

His eyes then darted to Jaygak, taking in the sight of her tattoo. "Is Flame Brand dead too?"

"No, grandaunt is alive and well," Jaygak replied, her lips twitching into a small smile.

Keswing then glanced upon Kitool's tattoo, and though it seemed familiar, he couldn't quite place it. "Which family are you related to?"

"I am Kit of the Ool family."

"Kitool?" Keswing tilted his head. 'Ool? Ool.' "I don't quite recall anyone recent from your family."

"Grandaunt is the most famous, but she works as one of the Ten Paragons."

"Oho? It's rare to see such a large number of you together. Are you escorting those three?" Keswing asked, staring into Kitool's eyes.

"..."

"We travelled together for the Nightval Tournament," Jurot explained. "I wished to claim victory for my newborn son."

"Congratulations to you, Jurot. Did you win?"

"Yes."

Keswing smiled slightly, keeping Jurot's gaze. "Are they with you?"

"They are."

"Are they your friends?"

"Adam is my brother," Jurot replied, holding Keswing's gaze. "Lucy and Mara are my friends."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

The pair remained staring into each other's eyes for a long while, Keswing refusing to let the matter go. Even he wouldn't go so far as to say more in front of everyone, however, understanding this may have been a matter of the Iyr.

"Excuse me."

All eyes fell onto the young man who had broken the silence, who had no clue just how close he was to dying.

"Are you by any chance related to Burgwing?" Adam asked.

"Burgwing?" Keswing asked. "Ah! That Burgwing? I suppose I am. Why?"

"I was just wondering," Adam replied. "He always treated me nicely."

"You have met?"

"Yeah. We chatted at the Front Iyr. He tried to buy this axe from me, but it belongs to the Rot family, so I couldn't give it up."

"That sounds just like him," Keswing joked. "Did he also meet your companions?"

"Yeah, though we had to keep Lucy from him, because she's always so..." Adam inhaled for a long moment. "You know. Horny."

Lucy frowned, letting out a sad sigh, and Jaygak shook her head, disappointed that he had decided to say it even after thinking twice.

"I see." 'If he let you live, then...' "A pleasure to meet you all, but I think I've interrupted your voyage long enough. I'll keep an eye on your ships for the rest of the day and leave you at night."

"Thank you kindly, Lord Keswing," the Captain said, tipping his hat.

"What a nice guy," Adam said, wondering if the dragon could hear him from so high up.

"He wished to kill you all," Jurot replied in the Iyr's tongue.

"What? Why?"

Jurot shook his head lightly, not wishing to speak the words out loud, just in case.

'Hold on. the three of us?' Adam thought. "Oh."

Jurot nodded.

"I forgot about that." 'We should be careful since the dragons can pick up that we're foreigners.'

"The Wings and the Iyr have no issues with one another," Jurot said.

"Is Keswing related to..."

History Check (Intelligence)

D20 + 3 = 11 (8)

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“What was her name?”

“The Princess of the Red Desert.”

“That was it, yeah.”

“They are siblings.”

“Siblings?”

Jurot noted the way Adam’s thoughts fell to his own children and left the half elf be. The Princess watched as the dragon continued to soar above them, still in awe of the being. Even though the dragon was fairly young, nowhere near as old as the Princess of the Red Desert, or Queen Silvari to the North, the dragon held a might which could fairly easily dispatch armies, unless they were equipped with magical weaponry.

‘How terrifying.’

The days on the ship passed by uneventfully, reaching the outpost, then the coastal Northern town. Days continued to pass, until finally they were approaching that place. Rather than heading to the town or the outpost, the ships sailed towards the fort, cutting the journey down by a few days.

The same fort which was watched over by Marshal of the East, Lord Benjamin Gravesea, the same Marshal of the East whom had tried to claim Adam’s life.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Adam thought, blinking at the large dark spot in the sea which grew darker until the water gave way to its might form.

‘Hmm?’ Jurot thought, staring at the grand figure before them.