I met another fairy once who filled in gaps in the world that I never wanted filled. I never wanted to know some of the things I wanted to know. But, like my original wish being used -my own fault for granting it-, I also listened to what she had to say.

She claimed dragons are real. Born of a magical bond between magical twins, a dragon egg fills with life and grows into the most powerful creature in the world… bound to the twins as spirit-bonded siblings. She had trouble telling the story, and I ended up having pity for her obviously deranged state.

Apparently, a mere boy is the only reason there isn’t a second dragon -an expendable dragon- laying waste to the world. That dragon, according to her, exists somewhere in this world, but can only be summoned by its siblings. When that was all happening, she apparently escaped from the infamous ‘Castle in the Sky’, as pregnant as a waddling imminent paotruss, no less.

I couldn’t bring myself to do anything to her, but her story was absolutely ludicrous. Who knows? Maybe I just doomed the world.

Lykha hovers past the bunks, where Sir Balleo, the little girl, and Seaevvi and Luness are still resting. Coco, Kessa, and Gyrryth are rinsing cleaning tools and brushes as Maerin collects some small pouches of ash for later. Murtoa also rinses his armor off briefly, and he pulls out Zaermaa, rinsing off the blade.

Lykha would pay it no mind, usually. He performs maintenance on his weapons regularly, cleaning, sharpening, and polishing to keep them in immaculate condition for when he needs them. Few things are more common and detrimental to a blade, according to him, than blood, meaning he is strict with ensuring he cleans it off when it is still mostly fresh.

And so, the crimson substance being washed off of the named sword he received from the Zaereens instantly piques Lykha’s curiosity. She hovers close to the human warrior, asking cautiously, “Did… something attack us?”

He replies honestly, “No.”

Without a proper answer, she fidgets with her hands. “Wh-... What’s that blood from?”

Murtoa pauses, and Lykha’s heart tightens a little. “Lykha…”

“Why? Y-... You just gave me a speech about hope, and…”

“I’m only a human, Lykha. I can’t save everyone in the world. I can rarely save anyone at all…”

“That’s not true…”

“I’m not making excuses. Hope is one thing, but I also can’t leave someone suffering if I or any of us can’t help them. There… were several.”

“B-...” Lykha tightens her hands, resisting an outburst. There has to be an answer. An alternative. Something.

Gyrryth offers softly, “Mercy is not always sparing life, Gentle One.”

“I know!” She fidgets. “I know… I know well enough now to know… there wasn’t… Why isn’t there an alternative? Is there s-something we can buy? A spell I can learn? Please, Mury… I’ll do anything…”

He continues staring at the remaining blood for a moment. He replies quietly, “Continue reading. Yanari’s journal, the Holy Order texts, ancient stones. Find the answer, and we’ll use it. Until then, I have to do what’s necessary in the moment.”

She swallows hard. Gyrryth adds as gently as his deep voice allows, “Few healers in the world can recover all wounds…”

“I’ll learn. Promise me, Mury. Promise me you’ll help me if I learn to heal them.”

He nods. “Of course. I have no desire to carry their memories.”

She hesitates, noticing the wet shovel nearby him. They have an assortment of tools, but for cleaning the trunk winder of ash, a shovel would’t be particularly useful, and there’s no burnable material near them for the boilers.

“You buried them…?”

Murtoa nods. Coco replies proudly, “If ye’ was keepin’ eyes on our perim’ter, li’e I was, ye’d know he di’ it while we were scrubbin’.”

“I-... I had no idea…”

Murtoa continues cleaning, replying to her, “I won’t seek forgiveness or justification, but… if it helps, I only do it for those who can accept.”

Lykha looks away. She still doesn’t like it or agree, but at least he does try.

Maerin asks as she flies slowly up to the work bench, “Did you find anyone else?”

“No. From what I can tell, Balleo is the one that was able to get a handful of people to the ground and away from the village in a vehicle. The girls we found with him, a handful of other children, and a few adults. Likely, he shielded the three I found with him using magic. The others were too far away from him and were heat burned.”

Kessa asks, “Just from… it being near them?”

He nods.

Maerin adds, “Avoid looking directly at it. Its fire is hotter than any substance can burn.”

Murtoa confirms, “Agreed. Dragons are born of magic.”

Lykha closes her eyes and braces herself as her heart begins to race. She can’t panic. The dragon is gone. Murtoa is with her.

There will never be a day I can face it. M-Maybe I… should give up. I don’t belong in his world…

Coco remarks a little dryly, “Maybe we jus’ seal ‘it or make it use its wish like Tricksie. Then, it be nothin’ bu’ a shady monstie.” She picks up Blastie when the small animal approaches her, hugging her as the teen feeds her a handful of nuts from her gearbag.

Gyrryth chuckles at her remark. “Were it so easy…”

Murtoa jokes, “I assume no one’s ever tried.”

The young fairy looks at them, making light talk, even now.

Why? Why don’t any of them seem afraid? It’s… just another day to them. I get Mury, but… Is it so simple? Just… keep moving forward?

She clutches her mother’s necklace through her shirt.

Did… Mom really… protect us from the dragon?

Murtoa suddenly speaks to Lykha, “When we can, we’ll drive the trunk winder around the ash to check the area for other survivors.”

Maerin, pondering deeply, states, “I still can’t figure out how they would have gotten so far away from the village where we found Kessa. Why even leave the village?”

Murtoa pauses again. “You’ll see when we get to the wreck.”

“Wreck? Oh…”

“Um…” A young voice draws the group’s attention forward, where the little girl is standing, clothed in a simple robe that Coco sleeps in. Lykha glances at Murtoa, and he gestures his head towards the girl. Lykha nods. She hovers to the girl, saying gently, “Hey. My name is Lykha. How are you feeling?”

The girl whimpers softly, “Um… I’m… Wh-... Where’s… Papa?”

Lykha winces. But, she does her best to keep her composure. She gingerly hovers close to the girl, saying tenderly, “We found you first, and we’re going to look. Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

The little girl looks around with watering eyes, and it’s Kessa that approaches next, saying gently, “Hey there. I’m Kessa,” She adds in a teasing whisper, “And, I’m a princess.” She smiles warmly, straightening her posture. “You’re being very brave. I think… I probably have a treat for brave little girls. Would you like something to eat? You can have your treat after.”

The little girl, enraptured by the strange and elegant revelation and Kessa’s performance, nods. “Ah, but first, you have to give me your name. Only fair, right?”

The little girl nods, fidgeting, “Um… M-My name is Chareena.”

“Ah, Chareena. Excellent name. Let’s go find you something to eat.” Lykha smiles at the teen, who nods and leads Chareena forward again. As Lykha watches them head to the lockers to retrieve some ingredients, she remarks, “Wow… She actually is a princess.”

Coco, sensing a jab, retorts, “Aye? Comparin’ ta who, Tricksie?”

Lykha smiles. “Mury said we need to make jokes.”

“Aye, an’ Princess Coco is a glibby sl-mmm, target, ey?”

The fairy scoffs. “Aye. Easiest target here.”

“When I’m made righ’ful Queen, ye may be me maiden-in-waitin’.”

There’s a surprised pause, and Maerin calls out the teen. “How in the name of all six spirits and god himself do YOU of all people know what a maiden-in-waiting is?”

Coco puts her free hand on her hip, retorting proudly, “I’m a princess, obv’sly. ‘S me duty to be ready for my Queen…-ness…” She looks at Murtoa, who chuckles. “Reign. Coronation is the day you’re made Queen.”

She faces Lykha again with her pride restored, “Aye! I’m gettin’ ready for me reign.”

Lykha shoots a dry glare at Murtoa, who sheathes Zaermaa, having finished his maintenance. He notices Lykha, and he states, “She’s asked about my time in court.”

“And you didn’t share with all of us?” Lykha pinches her face in disgust as the words reach her mind just before Murtoa actually says them. “You didn’t ask.”

Maerin begins laughing, and Lykha sighs. “I see.”

Gyrryth, wiping his spelldusters clean, teases, “I wonder, Coco, if you used ‘maiden’ intentionally.”

Lykha glares at him, not yet understanding. Coco replies, still holding her fist on her hip and Blastie at her chest, “Aye! ‘Bando’ll be me king. Thought tha’ woul’ be the mos’ obvious.”

Color fills Lykha’s cheeks, and she whirls to glare at Coco once more. Coco grins deviously.

Lykha, in spite of being antagonized by Coco, finds herself feeling relieved and better, given everything happening. A return to normal is helping, even if her mind and heart still feel heavy.

She sighs, asking Murtoa, “So… Seaevvi and Luness are obvious, and Sir Balleo… What are we doing with Sir Balleo and Chareena?”

Murtoa replies, “The girl won’t be able to stay with us. We’ll have to find the next place safe enough to leave her.”

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Lykha nods. It’s the most practical decision, but doesn’t hurt any less. “How… will we tell her?”

Murtoa pauses, looking at Gyrryth. Gyrryth replies, “I’ve had some experience with orphans. I shall handle it.”

Murtoa nods. “I can tell her the reality. But, I’m not the best option.”

Lykha fidgets. “Is… Is there any chance… Her family is safe? The village…?”

“The path winds, but it carves through the forest in that direction. Without asking Sir Balleo, I speculate the dragon was drawn towards Seaevvi and Luness as sources of magic close to the shockwave and outside of the protection of the fairy village. Nelrei was able to intercept its attention and was trying to lead it away.”

Gyrryth nods, “I suspected as much as well, given the circumstances. Which means, the village whence we found the Lady Kessa…”

Coco glances forward somberly, sympathizing with the implication for her strange counterpart. The teen states, “If we’ready ta go, I’ll light the boila.”

Murtoa nods. “We’re ready. Remember, we can’t drive the path of ash. Drive to the closest edge.”

“Aye, I know. Need dry burn’bles for the scrapeas. What’o the ash we scrapin’ to get there?”

“It’ll sift out on its own. As long as there’s some fuel, the boiler shouldn’t get overwhelmed. Otherwise,...” Murtoa points at the metallic pails nearby, which all of them are quite familiar with. Coco grimaces. “I’ll… keep the burn low.”

Murtoa chuckles. “Good idea.”

Lykha fidgets, and Mury looks at her. She flinches, putting her hands behind her back, putting on a neutral smile.

This isn’t good enough to fool him, of course, and he reassures her once more, “Slow is fast in this case, Lykha.” He looks away, though, saying distantly, “There is an option I’ve been avoiding. But,... I don’t have a great excuse as to why. Not with the change in our circumstances. We’ll head there, next.”

“R-... What kind of place is it?” asks Lykha nervously.

Murtoa looks at her, and then at Gyrryth, who cocks his head. The human warrior replies quietly, “It’s an abandoned fortress from the war. It… was taken over.”

Gyrryth sighs. “You speak of the Witch of the South?”

Murtoa nods, and Lykha, Coco, and Maerin glance between each of them.

Gyrryth explains, “She’s regarded as a heretic by the Holy Order. She committed treason during the war, nearly buckling the north’s defenses. Through… unholy magic.”

Murtoa adds, “Barring some of the oldest fairy sages, she’s probably the most powerful mage in the world. She pioneered and performs most transformative magic for southern refugees to flee northward. Part of this is how she performed her attack.”

Gyrryth asks cautiously, “Have you a relationship with the witch, Sir Murtoa?”

Murtoa hesitates, which is odd for him. He replies quietly, “She claims she is my mother.”

This stuns the compartment full of people, and no one knows what to say. Lykha finally summons words after a long time, asking, “Your mother!? W-We’re going to meet your mother!?”

“I don’t know. Before the army, I remember being an orphan. I was drafted alongside dozens of other young children. Claiming to be Murtoa of Lakia’s mother or father is not new.”

There’s another pause, and Coco remarks rather astutely, “Ye… seem more doub’ful ‘bout this’un.” Lykha and Maerin both nod in agreement.

Murtoa looks at the teen. He says quietly, “She has th… made the most compelling case the time I encountered her.”

Gyrryth replies, “I am surprised you were able to escape, then.”

“Murtoa of Lakia didn’t. At least, not the imposter she was trying to convince at the time. I… suspect she figured it out.”

“Wait… Are we in danger if we go there?” asks Maerin.

Murtoa nods. “Yes. I don’t know what she views as ‘motherly’ behavior, or if she actually knows who Murtoa of Lakia actually is, since one of the wishes was to erase my face from memory. In theory, she wouldn’t recognize me even if I were her son. I don’t think I could defeat her if it comes to a fight.”

Coco asks a little sternly, “What we need from this trick’blasta that we can’ne get somewhere else?”

Gyrryth answers, “The witch is the one who enchanted the first weapons capable of killing the Great Snails. Only two others have possessed the necessary talents and skill. She killed Ardaelus, bearer of the Holy Capital of Chimaal.”

Kessa asks as she walks back in, “Is there a reason that matters? The snail’s shell would still be intact, wouldn’t it?”

Gyrryth answers, “The city’s supply of water relies on the snails. The mucus they produce acts as a sort of wicking substance, pulling water up from the desert water table, which the cities can harvest. In turn, the number of more detrimental parasites are vastly reduced by the residents of the city.”

Maerin simplifies, “So, no mucus, no water.”

Gyrryth nods. However, Murtoa fills in, “We’ll need the resin she made at the very least. I doubt we’ll be able to get her full cooperation.”

Lykha asks nervously, “Sh-... She killed… a city?”

Gyrryth and Murtoa both nod. Gyrryth adds, “That was only the beginning of her treason.”

“As I said,” Murtoa adds. “I don’t think we could defeat her if we wanted to. And, she isn’t our target right now.”

Coco suggests somewhat humorously, “Soun’s more like we shoul’ get’er to help us slay the big lizzie.”

“Even if we could, her magic is draconic magic. She would be almost completely ineffectual against the dragon in an offensive battle.”

Lykha flinches, whining a little, “Mury… I know you’re trying to get me used to hearing it, but my heart can’t take it. N-Not yet, at least.”

Coco teases, “At least you’re easier to convince it’s no’ here.”

Lykha frowns, and Maerin shoots Coco a soft glare. However, the senior fairy asks, “Is there any way this Witch would cooperate with someone other than Murtoa of Lakia?”

Gyrryth answers, “Unlikely. She gave no warning before killing Ardaelus. She held back several subjugation battalions sent to reconquer the fortress. She’s made no demands or proclamations of her goals. She simply ended lives.”

Maerin turns skeptical. “So… You want to sneak in and steal this resin?”

Murtoa nods. “She also has a guide crystal that we can make use of to shorten the mission. We’ll address that if we can find it.”

Coco crosses her arms, growling, “I don’ like this, Love.”

“Neither do I,” replies Murtoa. “But… The alternative takes a lot longer.”

“No’ that.” She points at him, “If she’s no’ ye ma’, she’s no’ comin’ with us as‘nother rival.”

Maerin states bluntly, “YOU just suggested bringing her with us as a combatant.”

“Aye! I’m a genius. Bu’ I’m no gettin’ rib’ticked by anotha machen in me laybas of love. Go’ enough trouble now. An’ I’m a princess.”

Kessa replies without missing a beat, maintaining a soft and warm tone, “I know how you feel, Coco.”

The fiery teen glares daggers at Kessa as the others laugh. Murtoa replies, “Regardless, stealth will be our ally. I don’t want to confront Aelladelle right now if we can avoid it.”

Maerin frowns, crossing her arms. “You realize you just doomed us to DEFINITELY confronting her, now, right?”

Murtoa chuckles as he checks his gearbag briefly. “I know. But, even I have dreams.”

The others chuckle at him, and he states, “Coco, whenever you’re ready, we can go. We should cover as much ground as we can while there’s still daylight. The smoke and ash should keep wildlife away.”

Coco nods. “On’it, Love!” The teen heads forward to begin starting the boiler. However, she shifts to the side, ordering sternly, “Oy! No makin’ trouble in me runna. If I can’ne kill ya, ‘Bando will.”

A weary male voice replies, “I have no interest in fighting.” Balleo, the young knight of the Holy Church of the Spoken Realm, carefully limps past Coco, walking into the cargo hold. He nods when he sees Murtoa specifically. “Th-Thank you, Sir Murtoa.”

Murtoa nods with a shallow movement of his head. Balleo asks quietly, showing concern on his face, “Did… anyone make it?”

Kessa replies, “Mm-hmm. Chareena’s in the cockpit eating a small meal. The two fairies that were with you are asleep in Lykha’s bed.”

He sighs, putting a palm on his face. “Thank God… I… I did all I could… But, even still…” He trails off as the emotional pain passes across his face, nearly threatening to draw tears.

Maerin asks gently, “Can you tell us what happened? We’ve only been guessing so far.”

“I… I don’t know how else to describe it. The leaves of the trees all around burst into flames suddenly, and it felt like we had fallen into a furnace. It was stifling. I burned through basic defender spells just trying to stay on my feet and get anyone I could to vehicles.” He leans back against the wall nearby, and Gyrryth moves to catch him if he falls, but Balleo is able to support himself. “The screams… There were… so many screams…”

Lykha briefly looks at Murtoa, who watches quietly and respectfully. Balleo looks at the others, asking pleadingly, “Tell me you found others. Everyone moved to evacuate. There has to be others.”

“We’re going to head that way to search,” replies Murtoa calmly. Lykha clenches her fists, wincing at the painful deflection. She hopes she never understands the decision Murtoa made, not truly. Either way, she remains quiet, as she knows that it was the best decision he could make at the time, and nothing can change the outcome now. She can only hope to prevent the need in the future.

Balleo nods in agreement with Murtoa, stating, “I’ll help you search when we arrive. Have we any idea what could have occurred?”

Kessa asks, “You didn’t see it?”

He shakes his head. “My evacuation was made with a commandeered vehicle, and with temperature rising rapidly within, I was forced to drive off of the village limb, relying on the anchor cannons. Three of the four discharged due to the heat before we ever made it to the ground.”

Murtoa looks at Lykha, and she frowns, but nods. She braces herself as he states, “We believe it was a dragon.”

Balleo recoils. “A… A dragon?” He glances at Gyrryth and looks down. He sighs, stating, “Surely you must mean a maigon or a weregon. Almunaicho…”

“We defeated the Almunaicho weregon. This was a dragon.”

Balleo’s face drains of color, murmuring, “I-... Impossible… Dragons…”

“Are the only thing that could burn down colossal redwoods. In a single day.” Murtoa points outside, where the ramp is still open. Balleo takes a few steps towards the ramp, processing the destruction in full. He sinks to his knees. “Th… The village…”

Coco’s voice comes across the communicator after a short silence. “Oy, ‘Bando! Boila’s lit. ‘Bout’ta run. Close up, please.”

Gyrryth nods. Murtoa picks up the microphone, replying to Coco as Gyrryth closes the ramp. He pats Balleo on the shoulder and helps him to his feet.

Balleo murmurs, “How…? How could a dragon…?” He trails off.

Murtoa states, “We’ll talk on the way. Let’s head to the cockpit. Lykha, Maerin…”

Maerin stands up, stating what Murtoa was about to, “Check on Seaevvi and Luness. Understood.”

Kessa offers, “I have some magic back, I think. I’ll try healing them as much as I can.”

Lykha nods. Much of the coming conversation is going to discuss whichever parts of their enemy Murtoa feels necessary to share with Balleo. She doesn’t get the sense that Mury will tell him everything, but the younger knight doesn’t seem to be an enemy of the group.

That said, they are still quite far from their ultimate destination.

***

As the trunk winder creaks and rumbles across the forest floor, Lykha is forced to appreciate the difference between hope and despair.

On the one hand, they were able to find other survivors from the village in the treetop, where they met Balleo, Kessa, and Yanari, among many others. On the other hand, the survivors total nine compared to over fifty confirmed losses. Murtoa and Lykha agree on one thing, it was worth it to search. However, she can’t help but feel sad, even knowing there was nothing that could be done. Life is precious, and the villagers didn’t deserve to encounter the most terrifying being in the world.

But then, most villagers don’t deserve to encounter many of the fates that they are at risk of befalling, not least of which is human and drakyk pirates and bandits. Potentially even southerners and Queltarines mixed in.

On the hope side of things, however, Mury and Gyrryth were able to find Chareena’s father buried in a melted wreck of a vehicle, spared an instant demise thanks to the pool of water it was partially submerged in. Though it became a precarious and murky pool of ashen mud and sludge, Murtoa didn’t hesitate to wade through the soupy liquid and inspect the inside of the ruined trunk rover, which is essentially a single car from a trunk winder’s segmented body. Murtoa found a person floating in the muck on one of the seat cushions, and he and Gyrryth were able to extract him, allowing Kessa and Lykha to heal him. The presence of the dragon faded after a couple of days, allowing Lykha’s magic to work at full affect again, but she still feels a lingering anxiety, even days after her magic was back to normal.

Now, the group, less the two young fairies who have been returned to Lykha’s village, are headed back to the village of the Zaereens, one of the only known hospitable places in the forest for a band of displaced villagers. While Chareena was lucky, others in the group of survivors lost everyone.

Kessa seems to be hiding her own shame, in spite of the others assuring her it wasn’t her fault. No one could have predicted what would come of using the spell, and no one forced the dragon to arrive. Though, what exactly it was looking to find seems to have been satisfied with one single fairy.

The most important fairy in Lykha’s life.

The glow of lanterns indicates the proximity to the Zaereen village, and Balleo walks into the cockpit, where Lykha is sitting on Mury’s lap, and Gyrryth is driving, allowing Coco and Murtoa to sleep in their respective rear passenger seats. Balleo takes the forward passenger seat, reporting, “Everyone’s stable, and I passed out the last of the rations. I’ll use my authority to request resupply…”

Gyrryth replies, “The Zaereens do not live under Holy Order authority, Sir Knight. Though, I know how it sounds, I ask you to take that statement with respect.”

Balleo pauses, but he nods. “Very well. It doesn’t change the situation, though.”

Maerin, who is lying casually on the dashboard of the vehicle, replies, “The Zaereens probably aren’t against helping us. We’ll just need to barter with them. I bet they’re fond of paladin armor.”

Balleo stares at her, and then looks at Gyrryth. The lizardman chuckles, replying more to Maerin’s joke than Balleo specifically, “I believe Sir Balleo’s armor is unlikely to fit any of them.”

Maerin replies dryly, “That’s right… Ohhhh. He could take the Trial of One Thousand Nights.”

Balleo asks nervously, “Wh-... What’s the Trial of One Thousand Knights? A tournament?”

Those awake chuckle softly, and Lykha replies gently, “She’s teasing you, Sir Balleo. It’s safe for you to accept, but we’ll let the Zaereens explain what it is.”

This doesn’t comfort the young knight much, and he asks, “How… are you acquainted with the Zaereens?”

Lykha, Gyrryth, and Maerin all share a glance. The young fairy answers, “Mury and… I killed their god.”

Balleo stares at her in disbelief.

***