Skippy could understand why Aidan had tasked him with this important duty. In his master's great wisdom, this 'stockades' place was in dire need of some renovations. If only he had some pigeons to do the heavy job. But alas, as in all things in life, you can't have what you desire.
He came here escorting some rotten noble that attempted to assassinate the princess, the dragon's task was keeping him alive. He understood that there were other conspirators and this man needed to rat them out. Skippy defined getting all information out of that man his main goal. This place they were sending this noble surely should be somewhere prisoners go to give out their information. However, he was not ready for what he found.
The stockades were not a place for information gathering as he thought. He knew some prisoners needed roughing up until they decided to talk, but this was too much. The place reeked of human offal, urine, sweat, and rotten meat. The sounds of grunting, moaning and rattling chains were also ominous.
"In you go, you traitor. Be glad the dragon is protecting you, or we'd give you the beating you deserved." The guards pushed the assassin noble in his cell. He was chained to the wall with mana-sealing manacles.
Skippy slid off the man's neck and fluttered in front of him. He shrieked to get his attention.
"What do you want, lizard?"
Impudence! Tail Slap!
"Are you here to torture me?" Skippy shook his head. "Leave me alone. I am going to die soon anyway."
As if. Skippy wouldn't fail in his duty. Keep the man alive, Aidan said. He bet his dragon pride in that. But first things first. This cell is filthy. Some Dragonfire should fix it. Just set it to not burn the stone. Or the man. Or his shackles. He could do it.
*FWOOOSH*
There, much better. He was feeling a little full and drowsy after eating that man's swampy mana, it felt better to burn off some mana. He is scared, why?
"Kreek?"
"Please don't eat me!"
Skippy scoffed. Humans. Did they have any idea how bad was be human flesh? Most humans eat only crap and you are what you eat. Besides, this human was too fat. Skippy would have indigestion.
The dragon rolled his eyes. "Grawk."
"You aren't eating me?"
Skippy nodded. Why these humans were so dense? What is the problem with them, are they so dumb they can't they understand dragons? Aidan and Sora never had a problem understanding Skippy.
"What do you want then?"
Steps on the corridor. Skippy stood at attention. The door opened, two masked men entered, with daggers coated in fetid green goo.
"There he is. Kill him. Watch out for the winged lizard, it can eat mana."
Assassins. And so soon. This prisoner should have really good information. But it was time to show them who was a winged lizard.
*FWOOOSH*
"Ahhh! It is a fucking dragon! I'm not paid enough for this shit."
They ran away, burning. Skippy chased them until the door frame and kept burning them. One fell down in the corridor, the other a little further on the stairs.
"Fire! Bring the water buckets!" Some guard shouted.
Skippy kept focusing and feeding mana to his Dragonfire. As if some water bucket could douse those flames. He could will the water to burn. He had a lot of water mana to do the job.
A few minutes and a dozen wasted water buckets, someone looked his way.
"Hey, little one, could you please turn off the fire?"
Complying with law enforcement was a way to build a good, lawful country. Skippy canceled the fire. The would-be assassins were crispy toast by now.
The armored guard approached. Skippy readied some Dragonfire just in case. Crooks can disguise themselves as peacekeepers, after all.
"You belong to that mage, right? The one that danced with the princess."
Skippy frowned but decided to nod. He didn't belong to Aidan. Aidan was a trusted companion, a mentor. A font of infinite wisdom and mana for him. He had an equal partnership with the boy.
"And you were tasked with keeping that man alive until he is interrogated, I guess."
Nod again. Smart humans were as hard to find as vintage quail eggs. The ones that are just about to rot, the most delicious. Pops in your mouth.
Skippy growled, pointed at the man and then at the prison cells of the stockades. Are you in charge of this place?
"What? I work here." Skippy gestured a little more, slowly. Humans don't have the higher cognitive abilities of dragons, after all. "Who rules here? Who is the boss?" Skippy nodded. He found a jewel in this cesspit. A smart human!
"I'll go fetch the boss. Wait here, little dragon... noble dragon. And don't burn everything, please."
Yes. Definitely a keeper. Smart and polite. If they were going to be partners in law enforcement, Skippy needed to have reliable minio... coworkers.
Remember, Skippy. Don't let the pride of your bloodline ruin you. Just like Aidan, be gentle, be humble. The guy can kill even gods and doesn't flaunt that everywhere. Wise one.
It didn't take long for some mustached and slightly overweight man to come.
"What is it about a dragon in my stockades?"
Yeah. Slightly overweight people in positions of command mean laziness, haughtiness and an improper sense of hierarchy. Case in point, exhibit A.
"What do you want, lizard." Just a mote of Dragonfire at this man's mustache. "Aaargh!" Singe and stop before the flesh is hurt. Precise execution.
*ROOAR* A nice E7 roar. And more Dragonfire on the way. Maybe burn this guy's pants next.
"Boss, you better show the dragon some respect. He belongs to Princess Lumina's champion."
You better hear your smart subordinate.
"What do you want, dragon?" The boss corrected himself. Skippy tilted his head, fixing his sight on his eyes. Dragons can mesmerize an inferior species. It doesn't work all the time, but the weak-willed will succumb.
"What can we do for you, dragon?" Better.
Skippin pinched his nostrils, and pointed at the cells and then at a bucket of water lying next to the charred bodies of the would-be assassins. The humans followed his gestures with his gaze.
"You want us to clean the stockades?" Skippy nodded.
He pointed at the cell he was guarding. With a come hither motion, the humans came. He showed the cell. Squeaky clean. Not a mote of dust on the ground, no cobwebs, no dead rats, no rotting offal.
"Boss, he wants us to clean the stockades."
Skippy groaned and shook his head. Not us. That fatso. He pointed.
"Boss. He wants you to clean the stockades."
He gestured for them to fetch some pigeons for renovations, but the humans just became puzzled. Well, even dragons can't have everything.
"I'm not cleaning any filthy stockade..." He was quickly persuaded by some judicious use of Dragonfire. At least now his mustache is even.
"Can we use the prisoners, Lord Dragon? At least this way they get some workout."
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Oh. Skippy could swoon. This guy is really smart.
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Two days later and the stockades were fresh as a Spring meadow. See? Was it too hard? Skippy got out of the notch he dug on the stockades roof for sleeping. It was in a very convenient place, humans would have a hard time reaching it.
"Morning, Lord Dragon."
Skippy chirped back.
"Yeah. Do you think he'll talk today?"
Skippy mimicked writing. The guard chuckled.
"Yeah, I got what you wanted. Will he confess?"
Skippy shrugged. He pointed at the nobleman's cell, the guard went inside with him.
"What do you want?" Count something groaned.
Skippy exchanged looks with the smart guard. He took parchment and a pen out.
"Dragon wants you to write something. I'd rather do it before he gets bored."
"What does it want me to write? Poetry?"
"I have no idea. I'm going to leave the parchment, pen, inkwell, and the keys to your chains here in this corner."
Skippy mimicked sitting and writing at a desk. Having a tail works wonders for one's balance.
"I'll try to get some furniture. I'll be on my way."
Skippy saluted. The smart guard went away and he turned to the assassin noble.
"Do you want me to give you names, is that it?"
Skippy nodded. Aidan was clearly on the watch-out for some conspiracy. Putting him in the chandelier was a genius idea. Skippy had a good idea of who he was after, he only needed names to put to the faces.
"I can't. They would kill me and my family."
Not for a lack of trying, skippy noted. Seriously. Skippy flew up, crawled on the wall and bit his chain. Rattling it a bit, he returned to the floor.
"You would let me go?"
Skippy stretched out a claw and rotated it back and forth. Maybe. He pointed at the parchment. All in all, a single human was no threat. This guy would never be allowed anywhere near the important people ever again. And he knew Aidan was never one bent on vengeance. Letting a fish go to catch the school was a fair trade, in Skippy's mind.
"I want some wine first. I'm thirsty."
This one needs breaking.
The next day, Skippy intercepted the drinking water bucket before the guards could feed the noble.
"What is it, little one?" The not-so-smart guard asked.
Skippy pointed at the noble and mimicked drinking.
"I don't get it. I am going to give him water."
The noble lifted his head and talked. "I asked him for wine. I think the dragon wants you to fetch me some wine."
"Like I'd do that."
Skippy grumbled and roared. He gazed deep into the man's eyes and channeled his dragon aura.
"Okay. But wine is expensive as fuck. How would I pay for it?"
Wine is only savored by nobles and rich tradesman. Peasants have to do with ale or mead. Skippy scratched his back and found it. A scale about to fall off. He plucked it and waved the scale in front of the man. He could see greed in the man's eyes.
"Give me the scale and I'll see if I can get you some wine."
Skippy shook his head. It doesn't work like that.
The greed in the man's eyes would only serve to increase Skippy's admiration and respect for Aidan. The boy collected the scales and fangs that naturally fell off of his body, but he never sold a single one. Aidan kept and cherished those scales and fangs. He treated those not as a monster's loot, but as memories of their adventures together. Of when Skippy bit that rock-boar and chipped a fang. Or when they fought against a feathered-whip boa and Aidan sheltered Skippy from the snake's razor feathers whipping with his own body.
"Fine. I'll get you the wine first."
The guard went away.
"Could I get some of that water?"
Skippy shook his head. He pointed at the parchment.
"You want some names for my water?"
He just shrugged and laid down next to the bucket, curling around his tail and neck.
"I'm thirsty. Give me some water."
No answer.
"Please. Water. I'll write even if the wine is not here yet. You'll keep your side of the bargain, right?"
If the names are right. It would require an investigation first.
"Give me the parchment and some water. I'll do it."
See? Was it hard?
Skippy got water with the ladle and brought it to the man. He drank and next he began to write gibberish. He banged the man's head with the ladle.
"Ouch. So you can read."
He banged him with the ladle again. What do you think Skippy is, a dumb beast?
The man wrote five names and stopped.
"If you want more, give me the wine."
Fine. Have it your way. What a dragon has in spades is time. Millennia to spare. He took the parchment and pen, took a look and committed the names to memory. And with that long life comes a long memory.
A few hours later the guard came with a wine bottle.
"Give me the scale. This wine was expensive."
Skippy mimicked drinking and pointed at the man.
"You want me to take a swig of this wine?"
Yeah, duh. If the wine is poisoned, you die first. He drank, corked the bottle and waited a while. No reaction. Trade completed.
A quote of a ladle of wine for ten names was established that day. Two sheets of parchment were filled during the next two days. It wouldn't do to get the Count MurderYourGirl drunk.
----------------------------------------
"I don't care what the dragon thinks, we are getting him for interrogation." A familiar voice rouse Skippy from his sleep.
He crawled on the wall mimicking the formerly-mossy stone. There he was. Captain Zappy.
"Captain Crawford, the dragon is under the princess' authority."
"Well, good thing I work for the King then. Out of my way!"
Crawford. Skippy went back to the parchment and checked. Yes, there it was. He cut the name with a claw, folded the piece of parchment and crawled next to Count RatYourAccomplices.
They stopped in front of the cell and Skippy illuminated the parchment with a bit of fire from his nostrils. The guards were still trying to dissuade Captain 'Zappy' Crawford from going inside.
"Yes, that is the man. He is going to kill me. Please help."
Skippy took a calculated risk. He bit the underside of the mana-sealing manacles and burned the glyphs with Dragonfire. Now that Aidan had access to all types of mana, he could do many more things with his Dragonfire. Like burning only magic.
Count AllyInDesperation's eyes widened as he felt his mana back. Skippy put a claw to his snout, and stealthily crawled back on the wall. The door opened.
"Count Bentley. How are we today? I've come to get you interrogated."
Skippy was on the cell roof in a corner. He clad himself in Aidan's darkness mana. He called Skippy a Mana Gourmand. Such was Aidan's wisdom, he was right on the money. Dragons had infinite mana storage. They could store mana and keep it separated by source. They could taste a mage's mana signature.
"I know you are here to kill me, Crawford. I won't speak and I didn't speak, I swear by the Twelve." Yeah. Writing wasn't speaking.
"Where is the lizard? I owe that brat of a dragon tamer some thanks." He unsheathed his sword. "Close the door. Don't open until I say so."
"Yes, sir." Guard Smarty was out there. He closed the door and locked it.
Crawford put the torch on a sconce by the wall and walked in Bentley's direction. Skippy wasn't dumb. He was in a corner furthest from that sconce.
"You won't have your way, Crawford."
"Oh, no? What are you going to do?"
"Kraken's Ink."
Bentley's spell hit Crawford off-guard. Black ichorous humours seeped from the ground and enveloped the knight. His armor glowed, the runes attempting to keep the poisonous tar away from him.
He swung his sword where Bentley should be. The Count dodged, but the chains held him in place and he got a bad cut in the left arm.
"Corrosion Bolt."
Mages are notoriously resistant to their own magic. Aidan, for example, couldn't burn himself with his own magic even if he wanted. It was an effect of the resonance between equals, the mana signature of the spell was the same mana that permeated every inch of a mage's body.
Dragons, on the other hand, were naturally resistant to every kind of magic, even more from their own because of that same resonance. It was the only reason they couldn't be burnt by their own Dragonfire.
He targeted the chains next to his feet and the manacles around his hands. The acid melted the now-disabled manacles and only reddened the man's delicate aristocrat's hands. The metal clattered to the ground as Bentley tried to dodge another blind swing from Crawford. He got nicked on the right calf.
Bentley kept pouring mana to his spell, the ink seeping into Crawford's armor. If he could escape for a while more, the runes would be overwhelmed. Odds were not in the Count's favor, however. He was weak from days immobile in the prison and from refusing to eat the food several times. The wine was not helping either.
It was clear for Skippy that Captain Zappy was going to win. He had very good hearing and training in blind-fighting. In the silent prison, he could track Bentley by the sound he made scraping the ground with the chains still stuck to his feet. He should've burned his own feet with the acid too, Skippy pondered.
The ichor from the Kraken's Ink was slowly disappearing. The glowing runes in Zappy's armor were glowing but faltering. Time to reveal himself and tip the scales of battle. The scales of battle... Skippy wanted to laugh, but business before fun.
Skippy first changed his cladding to a specific type of mana.
He shot two focused bursts of Dragonfire. the first on the sconce, destroying the torch, the second on Zappy's armor runes. The sound of glass breaking and the burst of released mana from the runes washed the room. The armor was now mundane.
Count Bentley was not one to miss an opportunity.
"Vitriolic Torrent!"
A jet of black water spread from the man's hands and blasted Captain 'Zappy' Crawford to the wall, corroding the man, the armor and the stone behind him. only a black sludge remaining among a few metal shards and bones.
Bleeding but victorious, Bentley nodded to Skippy. The dragon meekly landed a few meters away from the man and purred, looking at him.
"Thank you, little one. I think I have to pay you for that."
Skippy tilted his head. Was it gratitude? It didn't feel like it. He could see the man casting a high circle spell, but Skippy did nothing.
"Abyssal Geyser!"
A spout of black brackish foul water appeared beneath Skippy and shot up to the roof of the prison, breaking and chipping the stone. The little dragon disappeared inside. The abyssal spell made the stone sizzle and melt. A pit a few meters deep appeared where the water came from and the sludge seeped inside, disappearing forever.
"Hah. Stupid lizard. I WON. Hahahahaaha!"
Count Bentley was still gloating as the black water receded into the pit.
*Flap, flap*
"What the ... ?"
*FWOOOOOSH*
The cell side where Bentley was suddenly got alight with Dragonfire. Skippy burned everything in that half of the cell, including himself. The brackish ichor evaporated from him and a few minutes later he quenched his Dragonfire. Of Count Bentley, only a charred husk remained.
Skippy dismissed his cladding. Dragons can store the mana they eat separately. What did Skippy use? Bentley's own mana, that he devoured during the Royal Gala. The resonance between the same signature plus his draconic resistance meant he took no damage from Bentley's spells.
Skippy landed on the charred ground, the stone still glowing in spots where it burned stronger. Now that it ended, the little dragon pondered.
What happened here?
What was Bentley's fault?
Trust.
The Count betrayed his Kingdom, double-crossing the Realm.
The betrayer triple-crossed his co-conspirators.
Why would Skippy believe that this conspirator would not quad-cross 'the lizard with wings' if they had not even that basic level of respect?
At least now he knew that the list was true. The presence of Crawford's name on it proved enough. The cutout name was of no importance, the man was dead, killed by Bentley's magic. Skippy shot Dragonfire at the bars of the cell window, melting the metal. He flew to his alcove and wrapped his tail around the parchment scroll with the name list.
Mission accomplished.
As the guards hurriedly unlocked the door to see what happened, Skippy was already out and flying in the sky. He had what Aidan wanted. Time to return to his friend's side.