I grabbed Cobaltio and cradled him in my arms, cushioning him with our [soul cushion]. Blood trickled into the cushion and pooled atop the transparent fabric, seemingly floating in midair.

“Are you coming in?” the man said, standing next to his back door. He’d saved me from his [drake], so the least I could do was do as he asked.

I nodded, then followed him into his house. Cobaltio whined and nuzzled my chest for comfort, placing its warm body against me.

Inside was quite comfortable, with a lit fireplace that kept the house warm, as well as a dining table and chairs. He wasn’t rich by any means, it seemed, but the man did well for himself. He led me through another door.

“This’d be my workshop, but for now this will be where we patch up that [drake] of yours.” The room was insulated with stone walls and was quite cool and damp. Various tables and tools were scattered about the place, but notably, the middle of the room had a large, stone platform that stood a foot off the ground. It reminded me of the [cobalt dragon] pedestal my old slate was broken off of.

The man walked to a desk built of white stone, and unlocked a large hatch on its bottom. Freezing, translucent air leaked from the cabinet and crept across the floor when it opened. Inside, I saw a huge array of colored liquids stored in glass vials, organized along two shelves, as well as runes I recognized as representing ice. Of the vials, I recognized stamina and health potions, though the health potions were only a fraction the size of the potions I’d drank during my final fight with the [cobold]s.

He swiped out a health potion then motioned his head towards the pedestal, “Place your wyrm on there.”

I did as he asked.

He popped the cork off the potion. “Open his mouth.”

I forced Cobaltio’s mouth open, though he didn’t put up much resistance, trusting my judgment in a manner, unlike a normal monster.

He slowly put the vial up to Cobaltio’s snout, then looked to me, “What’s his constitution?”

I held up ten fingers, then two.

“Ok.” he nodded to me, then looked to Cobaltio and ordered him, “Hold still.” The [drake] froze instantly, and let him pour the red liquid into his mouth. “Swallow.” Cobaltio swallowed the potion. Just as the vial was around two-thirds empty, the man plugged it once more.

After a few seconds, Cobaltio began to spasm on the pedestal, squealing, “Owowowowowowow!” as its legs healed what would normally take weeks or months to heal in a matter of seconds.

“That does it.” He returned the vial to the cabinet and shut it before looking back at me. “Keep that little guy away from any other [drake]s. They are very aggressive towards dragons, their natural rivals.” He squatted. “Where did you find him?”

I sat down, cross-legged on the ground, and rested Cobaltio on my lap while I wrote with my slate. {A [cobold] lair.}

He nodded in thought and continued. “What anomalies have you encountered with him?”

I hesitated to speak, knowing what mentioning his heritage to the gods had resulted in the last time.

Noticing my nervousness, he interjected. “Secrets are safe with me. I don’t want to see a [drake] die, and I can help.”

I nodded and explained all the anomalies I could think of to him, including his many classes, skills, magic, and inherent skills. I didn’t delve too deep into the specifics, though, as the snapping of my chalk interrupted me.

All he initially said in response to the information was, “Interesting.” Then, after rubbing his chin, staring into space for a few minutes, he looked back towards me. “Firstly, my name is Gungur. Secondly, that’s no ordinary [drake].”

I stared at him, wording my sarcastic grievances inaudibly. You don’t say he’s extraordinary?

Gungur ignored me and continued, “Third, I’m not buying this guy.”

I pulled more chalk from my pack. {Wasn’t planning to sell.}

“What did you need help with?”

{I don’t know how I should raise Cobaltio.}

He nodded. “Cobaltio...good name. I don’t know exactly what he needs, because he’s so strange, but I can teach you about [drake]s...Uhh, can you come back tomorrow, though? I’m too tired for this.”

I nodded.

----------------------------------------

I walked through the mansion door.

Maladrain was in the living room and quickly stood from the couch, crossing the room to greet me. “Good to see you’re safe...what were you doing out so late?”

I narrowed my eyes. What are you, my dad? {I visited the [drake] raiser.}

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Oh, I like the initiative. I’m sure Cobaltio has some special needs, and it might be nice to learn more about his biology.”

{Long story short, he told me to come back tomorrow because he wanted to sleep.} The new chalkboard could hold more words than the last one, though that was just about the limit. After thinking for a moment, I wiped the board. {When do we leave Hannem?}

“I figured we would leave the day after tomorrow.”

Reco called out from the other room, sounding like food was stuffed in her mouth, “We don’t really have a choice in the matter. If it were up to me, I’d book it today.”

Maladrain continued Reco’s explanation. “But we’ve received word that Luxo is returning in two days, and we need to discuss funding and other things with him more before we leave.”

“Freakin’ paperwork and negotiations. I wish it were just clobbering heads and breakin’ bones.”

Symantha yelled from one of the rooms upstairs, “Please do not threaten my master with such crude punishment.”

Reco chuckled, “Would it be better if I said I was going to poison him? I think that’s less crude.”

“Please don’t threaten to harm my master in any way.”

“Got it, got it. I’ll make it too swift for it to hurt.”

“Keep talking that way, and I’ll take you seriously one day, [fray diver].”

“Keep taking me so literal, and I might end up a fugitive, [maid].”

Maladrain looked back to me, raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous banter, “Well, Symantha made us some great food. Want to sit with us?”

I shrugged. It couldn’t hurt since I’d ditched earlier.

Reco looked over the couch to see me as I walked into the living room and whispered. “Right...that...guess we gotta keep our voices down, so Symantha doesn’t hear us.”

Maladrain scratched his head, seeming conflicted for some reason. “I guess so.”

I made sure to keep my voice down as well. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Each of us sat on the couch, staring at the fire.

Reco talked first. “So, from what I heard, you were summoned to the godly realm known as ‘Seraph’s Prison’, and there you were told by Seraph during her trial to kill that rascal in your lap, but you were told by the old king of hell do the opposite of what Seraph wanted, so you didn’t kill the runt, and because you didn’t, you were screwed over by the gods, and now you’re an oathbreaker. Also, something about him being a cross between a [dragon] and a [drake], with a [death wing].”

I nodded.

“Well, I trust Maladrain to trust in the right things, so I’m going to trust you. But that aside, wow.”

The hell is that supposed to mean?!

“Saya, what happened there was like, a once in a hundred lifetimes chance to meet people who lived in the oldest days of the world, times long forgotten as the ages passed.” she shrugged, “You even brought back that man, Joenelle. I’ve actually heard of the guy before. They say he was one of the deadliest bandits in the sand kingdoms long before I was alive and simply disappeared without a trace. Historians’ll be springing to talk with the guy now that he’s back from the grave. Err, wait, now that I think about it, you basically revived a notorious bandit. Let’s hope that doesn’t bite us in the ass.”

“Anyhow,” Maladrain said, digressing, “I think you should avoid telling anyone about your oathbreaker status unless you need to. Even non-worshippers are distrustful towards oathbreakers because breaking an oath supposedly means you’re not trustworthy. Though, I can’t imagine anyone distrusting a cute little girl.”

‘cute little girl’?!

Reco chuckled.“Judging by the not cute scowl on the ‘cute little girl’s face, I’m going to say she doesn’t like being called ‘cute’ in that context. Probably ‘little’ too.”

“Well, that’s how people are going to see her.”

“You got me there, punky.” Reco smiled like she’d just thought of a devious plan, then spoke slowly for once. “Hey, Saya, how about we go monster hunting and get those cute robes of yours stained with some monster blood? Then nobody’d be calling you cute!”

{I rather like my robes, but I’m up for monster hunting.} Being called ‘cute’ wasn’t exactly a descriptor I liked for myself, and I had recently lost Seraph’s patronage, but...I guess I was just really attached to the robes, despite all that.

Maladrain scruffled Reco’s head like she was a child. Reco, surprisingly, didn’t mind. “How about we reserve that for when we get on the road, ey? In the meantime, Saya, I suggest avoiding any [priest]s.”

I tilted my head, unsure why that was necessary.

“I guess you don’t know, but [priest]s can detect if someone is an [oathbreaker] if they observe them for at least a minute.”

Reco continued Maladrain’s point, “Those weirdos really hate [oathbreaker]s too. I heard they once locked someone up just for having the status.”

I thought for a moment, then asked about something I hadn’t given much thought into. {What oath did I break?}.

Maladrain scratched his head and shrugged. “I don’t know how it works either, but didn’t you disobey direct orders from your patron?”

{But I never swore an oath at any point!} I didn’t swear an oath, so how did I break one?!

“I guess you didn’t, but all they did was take away what they had already given you. Not following their rules means you aren’t entitled to their help.”

Something about what he’d said to me struck a nerve. Seraph gave me [seraph’s wisdom] because I was mute. The powers I was given were simply meant to make me equal to everyone else, so why was it fair to remove them!?

Reco shrugged, “Yeah, I’m surprised that’s all they took away. It’s almost like the triumvirate just wanted to cut your ties with Seraph, cleaning a dirty slate...”

That confused me. The triumvirate took away everything I was given besides my[soul cusion]. What did she mean by ‘more’? {More?! What else would they take away from me?}

Reco raised an eyebrow like I’d said something stupid. “Well, most [oathbreaker]s I’ve seen had something important taken away from them, like the [knight] who was locked up from killing a [priest]. He lost twenty levels, as well as most of his skills. It was pretty damn brutal.”

I stared wide-eyed at Maladrain and Reco. What they’d implied...{Are you implying that skills and levels are given to us by gods?!}

“O-obviously.”