Cami stared at the other dragon rider. He wore red scale armor, which if she didn’t miss her guess came from his bonded companion. That struck her as odd.

“Something wrong?” the much older man asked.

Cami looked at him again. He must be at least her father’s age, but if the bond truly slowed aging, he could be far older. She’d have to be careful.

“No, I was just thinking about your choice to wear red dragon scales as armor.”

“Why, they provide excellent protection.”

“Yes, against fire, but doesn’t your bond already do that?”

“Ah, young one. Yes, it does. Now I understand your confusion. It’s more of a cosmetic choice. Beliciosia likes it when we look alike. You’ll learn as Nicosandumas ages. Dragons become more idiosyncratic with age.”

Cami nodded. “Then do you mind answering a curiosity of mine?”

“Of course not, just as Beliciosia is trying to provide some education to Nicosandumas, I am here to help you.”

“Oh, first, just call him Nico. When you say his full name, it just grates on me. But what I wanted to know is, how old are you?”

He smiled. “Yes, that is an important question for every dragon rider. I’m 389 years old. Beliciosia was just over three hundred years old when she chose to bond, and so we have been together for more than half of her life.”

Cami’s eyes had grown wide. “How long can a dragon rider live?”

“As long as their dragon does of course and sadly in a few cases longer. A dragon can live to be thousands of years old if they reach the wyrm stage.”

“What do you mean, if?”

“Ah, so much for you to learn. Yes, well, all the age categories can be reached over time, or if your bond becomes deep enough by you leveling. From the information we have, I believe you already know about the latter. Well, each dragon can live to be a certain age but must reach the new age category in order to continue living.

“A few wild dragons die because they don’t mature enough, perhaps they sleep too much, but they age out before they reach elder. I’ve never heard of it happening before that stage. It happens to more before they reach ancient, but the real barrier is wyrm. Each dragon must find their own way to wyrm. They must reach ancient before 1000 years and most do so, close to that age, but then they must reach wyrm by 1500 years or they will die.”

Cami suddenly felt a small fear for Nico, but she quickly pushed it away. There was nothing Nico couldn’t do. They would overcome that together.

“And if they reach wyrm?”

“There are records of wyrms reaching 3000 years of age, but must go into hibernation before that and just never wake up. Legends say in the distant past that there were dragons who were even beyond wyrms, like the great mother, Tiamat, but that was before the dream, and so either Beliciosia doesn’t know or won’t tell me more.”

For a moment, Cami was lost in thought. To live to be 3000 years old… Then she grinned. Just how far could she push her craft, if that were possible? She would be able to forge items which could sunder the heavens. Now she was excited. There was much for her and Nico to talk about. They’d been holding back, but they needed to grow.

“Then we should spar. I need to grow stronger,” Cami said.

“Interesting response. I think I’ll like you youngling,” Turan answered with a smile on his face.

________________________

Sheraleigh gobbled down the sheep in two bites. It wasn’t as good as a cow, but she liked to mix it up from time to time. Her servants brought her as much food as she wanted, and the chief servant hadn’t bothered her for a few days. It was always difficult with him because he was some sort of ruler amongst the humans.

That much at least Sheraleigh had figured out, which she was particularly proud of. She imagined that not every dragon could be so perspective, nor could they take the time to bother learning tidbits about how the lesser races interacted.

Still, every time he came to her, he kept bothering her about bonding. Or at least he had until a month ago. Then the visits stopped. Now the barred doors to her lair opened up. It was so cute that the little beings felt safer with metal bars on the doors of her lair. It wasn’t like she couldn’t have flown up to the sky anytime she wanted to. The lair had a clear path up and she watched the night sky now as she looked out.

The doors had just opened though, so she lowered her head to take in what was coming. Her nose told her first. She smelled the scent of chief servant Castine. The other servants, who seemed to always follow Castine around came in. She always smelled more magic about these humans than any of the others who served her.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Then Castine walked in. “Good evening, Sheraleigh. I hope you’re well. I apologize for not having visited you in over a month. Affairs of state have kept me busy.”

She snorted. “Bah, a month. That’s nothing more than a nap to a dragon. You have kept your tasks up though by providing me with many tasty treats.”

“Yes, I can see that you’ve grown even more since I last saw you. That’s very good.”

Sheraleigh looked herself up and down. She was, of course gorgeous and perhaps he was right. She might have inched forward in her age category. Lots of easy food without hunting was probably the optimal path to growth, she mused. Then a darker thought struck her.

“You aren’t saying that I look fat are you? I’ll have you know, I’m not a red.”

Castine waved his hands in front of him like he always did when he was trying to appease her. “Oh no, never. You’re as gorgeous as ever, Sheraleigh. I sent some more gems down to you while I was gone. I hope you found them enjoyable.”

She glanced over at her slowly growing hoard. It wasn’t the largest of course, but she was very young and she had done nothing but be her glorious self to obtain it. The dream spoke of much larger hoards, but those dragons had to go out burning and pillaging to gather such hoards.

No, she shook her head. As long as servant Castine did his job, she would let him keep feeding her and growing her hoard.

“Why do you bother my rest, Castine? I know I’ve told you more than once, that I will not partake of this bond with a lesser being.”

Castine said, “No, Sheraleigh. It isn’t anything like that. I was going to tell you that war is coming to my empire. Things may become hectic for a while. I likely won’t be able to visit you as much or find you as many shiny trinkets, although, I will do my best to make sure that you’re still fed as much as you want.”

Sheraleigh rose up to her full height. She was more than twenty feet long and knew that she must be an imposing spectacle to such a creature as Castine. She even let out the waves of her Dragon Fear 1. That would teach them proper respect.

Oddly, Castine didn’t so much as sway when she did that. She was about to get more serious when he continued speaking, “You are of course free to leave anytime you wish, but I did want to mention that I believe one of your clutch mates, Nicosandumas will be arriving here within the next few weeks, perhaps even less.”

When Sheraleigh didn’t say anything, Castine stood in silence for a few moments before turning and leaving. Sheraleigh was in too much shock to even bother reprimanding him for turning his back to her. Nico… She didn’t know if she was ready to see her brother. He had always protected her and it was because of him, at least indirectly that she had obtained this wonderful lair and these many servants, even if none of them would agree to become minions. But he had also been the strangest of their clutch.

No, Sheraleigh was not at all sure what to think about this turn of events. So she did the most natural dragon thing of all and plopped down to take a much needed nap. A few days of sleep would help her think of the best plan.

________________________

General Westin was sitting in his office when one of his aides came rushing in without even knocking.

“General…” His voice was ragged, and he was clearly in distress but Westin was still prepared to dress him down for the violation of protocol. Even here, no especially here on the border, it was true that protocol was a form of discipline and discipline saved lived.

Before he could say anything though, the warning horns were sounded. Once… twice… Westin was standing as the second horn went off. That meant this was going to be more than just a minor skirmish.

Then a third horn sounded, and his heart started to beat rapidly. A true attack then. He went to grab his armor. Fortunately, it was enchanted and every easy to put on. Before the third horn had even ended, though, a fourth began to sound. His eyes bulged.

Rather than grabbing his sword, he picked up the communication crystal on his desk and shoved his way past the aide while he rushed up to the walls. These walls were the board of the kingdom. They kept out all of the monsters which inhabited the western mountains. No officer wanted the post he was assigned to, but it was still the most necessary position in the kingdom.

Even the king had spent several weeks here, returning to the capital only a month before to prepare for the spring festival and deal with some matters in the court. That was a job Westin never wanted.

He had that thought as he reached the top of the wall and saw the streams of monsters pouring out of the passes in the mountains. There were companies of orcs. He recognized some of the mercenary banners. There were goblins by the thousands and peppered among them were ogres and trolls. But what really got his attention were the mountain giants. They were as much more than their lesser kin from the lowlands as mountains were more than hills. Each one stood at least forty feet tall and was a walking engine of destruction.

In that moment, he almost thought that dealing with the conniving nobles in the court would have been worth it. Almost. Either way, he started barking orders and then channeled a thread of mana into the communication crystal. His only thought was, “Please let the king answer quickly.”

The wall was going to fall without significant reinforcements. That wasn’t a prediction. It was a dire fact. The only question was, how long he could hold the wall.

________________________

More than two hundred miles to the northwest of General Westin a robed figure struggled against the artic level winds. These mountains were brutal. Up this high, very few creatures could survive. There were some, of course. He’d been forced to deal with a yeti just the day before and the occasional ice elemental would pop up, but the closer he got to his target the fewer such creatures existed. They knew who the king of this mountain was, and the story was that in his youth he was a brutal king.

Tolston hated the fact that he had been sent on this mission, but at least he no longer felt the cold. Magic wasn’t necessary. He had reanimated, not as the free willed lich that he wanted to be but rather as an arcane skeleton. Some of the power of his magic was gone, but he still had much of it. His master assured him that if he served well, that they would find a way for him to break into the legendary ranks again. He’d done it once, after all.

He shook his head for what felt like the millionth time. He’d wanted immortality, but not like this. Never like this. He hadn’t even wanted undeath as a lich. But he had betrayed the sitting emperor in favor of an older regime and this was now his fate. He could either fall down and wait for centuries to wear him down, or he could accept his new role. It was a bitter pill.

Now, though, he was on a recruiting mission. He bore a priceless magical artifact with him. He was jealous. If he had used this artifact, he would still have been undead, but at least he would have controlled his own destiny. Now, it was being offered to recruit the aid of an ancient white dragon, Iskaldurdauoi.

The trek had taken days because even his master couldn’t say exactly where the dragon was holed up. Now, though, he had found him. Just a few more hours.

As those hours wound down, Tolston found himself climbing into a wide cave mouth. Surprisingly, there were no minions. He had expected that at least there would be some orcs providing for their master’s needs, but what did he know? His master had reported that Iskaldurdauoi was not long for Ileria. He was old even by dragon standards and had failed to break into the wyrm category, so his body was failing him.

Tolston walked into the lair and saw the dragon. He was atop a mound of what the former archmage took for his hoard, but both dragon and hoard were covered with a thick layer of ice. Tolston felt a moment of panic. Perhaps he was already too late. It wouldn’t matter that it wasn’t his fault. Failure was never greeted lightly, as well he knew. This was really his last chance.

Then the ice cracked and red eyes gleamed out in the low light.

“Who would dare to intrude upon the realm of Iskaldurdauoi?” The creature’s voice was deep but cracked as though he hadn’t spoken in decades, which was entirely possible.

Before he could even answer, the dragon burst up to his feet and jagged shards of ice blasted out in every direction. Tolston’s new body was more durable but also much more complicated to repair. A mage shield sprung up in front of him and blocked all of the shards.

Then he waved his hand, and waves of fire rushed out, melting the ice in front of him. The dragon seemed to wince at the fire.

“A mage then… but you don’t smell of the living. A lich?”

“Close enough, I come representing one greater than I. I have an offer for you.”

“I serve no man. I may not be what I once was, but I’m still a dragon.”

Tolston understood the sentiment, but chuckled inwardly. It didn’t matter. In life or death, everything would end up serving his master.

“My master has a proposal which, if you accept will give you a path forward. He has an artifact that can give you the ability to become a wyrm.”

Silence hung in the air as sharp as the biting wind while the dragon pondered those words.

Finally, he spoke again, “Go on, I would hear more.”