Yara opened her eyes. For a moment they had to adjust to the dimming evening light. She was relieved her blindness was gone, but horrified to discover she was not where she thought she fell asleep. She was in a field, leaning against a young tree. Not too far from her was a small river. She heard the sound of metal grinding against stone and looked towards the body of water. A figure sat on their haunches, sharpening Skycleave by the riverside. The figure was wearing armour similar to hers. Their hair was blond-grey.

  ‘Arran?’ Yara asked apprehensively. The figure turned his head. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw his face. The short beard hugging his jaw, his friendly brown eyes, he was exactly like how she remembered him.

  ‘You’re awake, finally.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Yara said as she looked at her hands.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Arran asked, he got up and walked towards her. When he reacher he sat down. There was an expression of concern on his face.

  ‘I thought you were gone.’

  ‘I’m still here, I wouldn’t just leave you all alone like this.’

  Yara leapt from where she was seated to give her mentor a tight hug.

  ‘For good, I mean,’ she said as she buried her face in his shoulder.

  Arran’s smile changed to a pained grimace, ‘well... we all will be some day,’ he paused to pat her head, ‘but if I go, if I don’t come back…’

  Yara looked him in the eyes.

  ‘I want you to know that I’m proud of you,’ said Arran, Yara hugged him even more tightly, ‘you should get some more rest, after all we have a big contract in the morning.’

  Yara let go of her mentor and leaned back against the tree again. She watched him walk down to the river, where he returned to sharpening his sword. As she got comfortable she closed her eyes and fell asleep again.

  Now she truly woke up. Her vision was as clear as before she’d struck the dragon. In a panic she sat up and looked around frantically for Arran. All she could see were Laras, sitting on a chair opposite to her with a bandage wrapped around his forearm, and Skye, who was sharpening a milky-white blade on a seat across the room.

  ‘I saw you tossing and turning so much I tried to help,’ he said, his eyes focused on the steel.

  ‘What’d you do?’

  ‘He cast a spell,’ said Laras, ‘he meant to make you sleep more calmly.’

  ‘Well, I think it worked.’

  ‘Good, I hope that rest did you some good,’ Skye put down the whetstone and stood up, ‘I finished the blade while you were away, and I used the dragon skin your partner provided to fashion a scabbard and a hilt with,’ he proudly displayed his handiwork. It was an elegant weapon, broad at the base yet slender at the tip. The metal was milky-white, with runes inscribed in the blade’s fuller.

  ‘And of course, there was the extra I promised you as well,’ he sheathed the sword and turned to leave the room, when he came back he was carrying a rolled up cloak, ‘I managed to reactivate the runes on this piece of hide, it should bid you resistance against any blow,’ he wanted to hand it to Yara, but she refused.

  ‘I didn’t kill the dragon, this doesn’t belong to me,’ she said, ‘Laras should have it.’

  Skye turned to offer it to Laras, who looked at it with an eyebrow raised. He stood up and accepted.

  ‘Any blow you said?’

  ‘Well, you can still be knocked over, you will simply suffer no injury if you protect yourself with this cloak.’

  ‘I like it, thank you.’

  ‘Now as for the sword,’ said Skye, turning his attention back to his other craft, ‘made with an alloy invented by my family, I named it Wingrender for its purpose of slaying a Gryphon.’

  Yara sat up and took the hilt in her hands. The sword was light, lighter than even Skycleave.

  ‘I worked that metal for fifty years to prepare it for the magic it now contains, I suggest you be careful with it.’

  She wanted to compare it to her own weapon, but found it missing, ‘where’s my sword?’ she asked.

  ‘About that…’ Laras put down his newly acquired cloak and sat down again, ‘when you hit the dragon with Skycleave you didn’t just blind yourself, I found Skycleave on the ground, with a large crack running from its edge to the other side.’

  Yara felt her stomach drop, ‘it’s not broken though, is it?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Laras looked at Skye, who shrugged, ‘I asked Skye to mend it after you fell asleep.’

  ‘Can you?’

  Skye nodded, ‘I can try, though I’m not experienced with Dragonforged weapons,’ he said, ‘I’ll begin immediately.’

  Both Yara and Laras thanked him simultaneously as he left the room. Yara’s attention then focused on Laras’ bandage-covered arm.

  ‘Do you need help?’ she asked, her tone hinting that she was worried, ‘some time to rest maybe?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Laras laughed, ‘I carried you without problem last night, a little scratch will heal fine, especially with Skye’s help.’

  ‘Can I see them?’

  ‘I think I can unwrap the bandage now,’ he loosened it and began to slowly unwind the dressing. The wounds below had healed into a reddish, prominent scar that resembled a rope-burn, ‘the dragon’s tail ripped up my arm pretty bad but I got through it.’

  ‘I feel like it should be my turn to ask now,’ Yara reached out for his arm.

  ‘Ask what?’

  ‘Can I touch it?’

  ‘I…’ Laras wasn’t sure what to answer. He ran his own hand over the scars first, he deliberated for a second after he felt how sensitive they were, ‘I think you can,’ he extended his arm towards her, ‘be careful please.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Yara, ‘I’ll be as gentle as you were with me,’ she slowly caressed the long, winding scar. Yara stopped when he indicated he wanted her to.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘I’m not really used to this, normally it’d be the other way around.’

  ‘I wanted to make you feel like how you make me feel,’ replied Yara, ‘you deserve that much.’

  Laras looked away, ‘tell me what you think of it, if you want.’

  ‘I think it compliments you,’ said Yara as she ran her right hand over it again, ‘you got this scar when you jumped in harm’s way for me, and I don’t think there’s anything more courageous than protecting the one you love,’ she looked at the smaller scars left by the barbs on the dragon’s tail, ‘I think that it’s beautiful, like you.’

  ‘You’re gonna make me blush if you keep going,’ said Laras, a smile appearing on his face. Yara got closer to him and her hand travelled up his arm.

  ‘Good,’ she said.

  ‘I…’ he wasn’t sure what to say, ‘It makes me really happy that you care.’

  ‘I’m gonna ask you again now,’ said Yara, ‘do you want to rest for a bit? You don’t have to come with me.’

  ‘I think I’d like that, actually,’ he admitted, ‘I think my arm could use it.’

  Yara stood up and turned around. She looked at Wingrender, which stood propped up against the couch she’d sat on.

  ‘Don’t go alone though,’ said Laras as he watched her pick the weapon up, ‘Ashfallow is still around somewhere, he can help you if you need it.’

  ‘I’ll ask him,’ she assured him, ‘get some rest, help Skye, I’ll be back soon.’

  When Laras had said that Ashfallow was around Yara expected him to be lurking somewhere, hunting prey in the distance, instead the dragon was gorging itself on the skinned corpse of the dragon Laras had killed the night before.

  ‘You said we would speak another time.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Your leaving,’ said Ashfallow, he turned his head towards Yara, ‘it was irresponsible.’

  ‘I suppose you could say that…’ Yara looked down.

  ‘I followed you from above when you ran, I cannot understand how man deals with loss.’

  ‘The feeling is mutual, I spoke to a dragon who couldn’t process his grief.’

  ‘Preposterous, such an emotion is below us.’

  ‘The name Ancaror the Shamed should ring a bell.’

  Ashfallow exhaled loudly through his nostrils, ‘He was more of a traitor than I ever was,’ he said, ‘A broken creature with a broken mind, an animal does not mourn its prey and we do not mourn our fallen, it is pointless to do so.’

  ‘Perhaps if you tried you could move on from your spite.’

  ‘And lose the force that drives me to survival?’ the dragon’s stomach rumbled in a way that resembled laughing, ‘no, I believe I shall pass that opportunity.’

  ‘I won’t try to convince you otherwise,’ said Yara, ‘if I may make a request though.’

  ‘Speak.’

  ‘Could you help me fight a Gryphon?’

  By this point Yara had memorised where she needed to be. The roost cavern was high up in the mountains. The air grew thinner the higher she climbed. Trees gave way to patches of grass between rocks. Finally she saw the cavern opening.

  ‘It must be cold up here,’ said Julie from behind Yara, ‘how are you not freezing.’

  ‘I’ve been through colder,’ Yara replied absent-mindedly.

  ‘You got the dragon to help you again.’

  ‘I did, I have no idea how Gryphons fight so I figured his help would be useful,’ she said as she ducked to avoid a rock. Julie wanted to say more but Yara shushed her. They were inside a large grotto with multiple platforms at different heights, all occupied by a gryphon. Yara looked at the cavern ceiling. It was filled with holes that let sunlight pour in from the outside to illuminate the dark innards of the mountains. She saw something move up there, carefully she observed until she saw that it was Ashfallow’s head poking through from the other side. The trap had been set.

  A large Gryphon looked up from its perch. Its body was like a perfect mix of that of a bird’s and a lion’s. Its hind-limbs were very cat-like, much like its tail, while its wings, head, and neck were distinctly avian. It cried out a terrible shriek before flying up. The creature had taken notice of the dragon at the entrance to its home. Ashfallow realised his element of surprise was gone and instead lunged forward, jumping down from his hold on the cavern wall to tackle the Gryphon head-first. Both fell a great distance toward the bottom of the grotto, where a body of water had collected. After remaining submerged for a few seconds the gold-black Wyvern broke the water’s surface again and flew up. His roar echoed throughout the cave.

  Yara watched it all happen directly in front of her. She looked over the edge of the cavern shelf she stood on, down into the lake below. The Gryphon climbed out of the deep water before it started scaling the cliff wall. Yara stepped back and unsheathed Wingrender. Even in the darker end of the cave it reflected bright white in the little light that remained. The Gryphon poked its head above the edge of the cliff before it clambered on top. It shrieked as it crawled toward Yara. She looked around, Ashfallow was nowhere to be seen. The gryphon swiped at her with her wing and its claw collided with her blade. The metal sung as the talon scraped along its edge. The creature shook its head violently at the sound.

  Seeing an opening Yara jumped forward and stabbed the animal in the shoulder. It let out a deafening screech and Yara pulled Wingrender from the creature as she recoiled. The Gryphon shook the remaining water from its feathers and turned around before flying up out of the cavern. Ashfallow gave chase, vaulting after it through the cave opening. Yara ran outside into the cold mountain air. She watched as Ashfallow took to the air and followed after the creature. As he caught up he spewed ash at the Gryphon. The sudden darkness in the smog confused the creature, and in an attempt at self-preservation it flew toward the ground. It landed not far away from Yara between the trees. Ashfallow was close behind and landed nearly on top of the creature.

  Yara ran to reach it. She watched from an ever-closing distance as Ashfallow lunged toward the Gryphon. His jaws locked around its wing and as he bit down it screamed. The creature clawed at Ashfallow and managed to hit his head. He let go and Yara managed to get close enough. It screeched at her and wanted to fly away, only to feel one of Ashfallow’s feet step down on its wing.

  Yara looked at the wound she’d caused before, it was both bleeding and oozing some sort of puss. Its one free, intact wing swiped at her and Yara dodged before slicing one of its claws clean off. The Gryphon snapped its jaws at Yara before it felt the cold embrace of death from the blade that pierced through its lower jaw. Wingrender had fulfilled its purpose. Ashfallow let go his grip on the creature’s wing and stepped back.

  ‘I believe this satisfies for “assistance”.’

  ‘It does, thank you,’ said Yara, she watched as Ashfallow turned over the body. His jaws opened slowly as he nudged the corpse with his head.

  ‘before you begin eating there’s something I have to take.’

  ‘Take it, the spoils are yours,’ the dragon said as he took a step back again. Yara began to cut through its chest.

  ‘A Gryphon’s heart is on its right, like that of a dragon.’

  She changed where she was searching. A spasming mass of muscle was visible through the creature’s bloody ribs. Yara began to cut through the arteries to loosen the heart. She then managed to rip it out.

  ‘Have at it,’ said Yara to Ashfallow, who gladly accepted the grace she gave him. She then walked away, leaving the dragon to his own devices.

  Yara returned to Skye’s home. He stood out front, with Skycleave sheathed and propped up against the doorframe of the house.

  ‘You’re back,’ he said as he picked up the sword, his eyes were drawn towards the heart she carried in her hands, ‘do you want a bag for that?’

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  ‘I’d appreciate it.’

  Skye put the sword down again, headed inside, and got her a jute sack from somewhere in his house. She dropped the heart in and took the bag. Skye then resumed what he was doing before and grabbed Skycleave.

  ‘I managed to mend it somewhat, but I don’t think it’ll ever come back to its former glory without being reforged at Dragoncrown,’ Skye handed the sheathed sword to Yara, who pulled it from its scabbard. Where the crack had been was clearly visible. It’d been mended with the same milky white alloy Skye had used for making Wingrender.

  ‘It was more than a crack, I’m sorry to say.’

  She turned the sword around, noticing the exact same breakline on the other side.

  ‘It… broke?’ Yara asked, disbelief haunting her words.

  ‘Skycleave is old, older than any mortal alive, this was going to happen one day, whether in your hands or in those of your children after you.’

  She looked at the sword again, ‘will it hold? The mending, I mean.’

  ‘She’ll swing just like the day she was made,’ Skye said, he watched as Yara turned around and swung the sword a few times, ‘though I’d urge you to use a replacement until you can get it reforged, I can’t be certain whether it can still kill dragons.’

  ‘I appreciate it,’ said Yara half-heartedly, she saw Laras leave the house.

  ‘Is everything alright here?’ he asked. He saw Yara’s bloodstained gauntlets and the jute sack that was starting to leak blood, ‘I’m assuming you won?’

  Yara nodded, ‘now all I have to do is turn this in for a reward.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise you to go back,’ said Skye.

  ‘Why? I need to collect payment.’

  ‘Emil is a sly and greedy man, he doesn’t do payment, didn’t even pay me for Wingrender,’ he said, ‘if he promised you he’d pay it’s a trap.’

  ‘I broke my sword for him,’ said Yara, ‘he’ll pay up.’

  ‘I’m not sure how you’ll get him to, he’s a stubborn, power-hungry king.’

  ‘Even kings bow to beasts,’ a booming voice said from above. It was Ashfallow, he’d caught up to Yara after finishing feasting on the gryphon and now landed next to them, ‘if Stormcleaver requires compensation for her work, then I shall join her.’

  ‘You’re a big, flying reptile, what kind of power of persuasion can you possess,’ said Skye as he walked towards the dragon.

  ‘Intimidation,’ he said as he bared his teeth, ‘Kings fear death nearly as much as a loss of power, they are much like my kind in that respect.’

  ‘So your idea is to just walk into the city with a dragon following you?’ Skye raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

  ‘I like it,’ said Laras.

  ‘I can’t say I disagree with it,’ said Yara.

  ‘So we are in agreement,’ Ashfallow said as he took to the air again. Yara and Laras looked at Skye.

  ‘This is a stupid idea.’

  ‘There’s not much they can do when the only dragon killers around are on the dragon’s side.’

  I’d still urge you both to be careful,’ said Skye as he watched Laras and Yara prepare to leave.

  ‘We will be,’ she said.

  ‘It won’t be our first time dealing with royals,’ Laras followed up, ‘we know exactly what we’re in for.’

  When Yara returned to Vispér the gates were even more heavily guarded than before. Laras was close behind her this time. Both of them kept looking to the sky for a sign of Ashfallow.

  ‘He’ll be there,’ said Laras, ‘he might already be here, just hiding in the mountains,’ he looked at Yara, who tried to avoid even the slightest hint of panic appearing on her face.

  ‘Hey, you’ll do fine, and we’ll get out in one piece.’

  ‘He didn’t seem like a patient man, do you think he’ll wait to read the letter?’ Yara’s eyes shot around nervously as they passed through the gate.

  ‘No, probably not-.’

  ‘Well thanks.’

  ‘Let me finish,’ said Laras, ‘he won’t heed your request because like most other royals, he’s a prick.’

  Yara laughed.

  ‘Now he can ignore threats from me, or from you, and especially from Julie, but he can’t ignore us when a dragon lands on top of his palace and nearly breaks down the ceiling.’

  ‘I think we should stop trying to talk about threatening a king.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘People are already staring, Laras, particularly at the bag hanging from my saddle.’

  Laras looked at it as well. Deep red blood had soaked its bottom and dripped down onto the pavement below. He looked around them and saw that she was right.

  ‘You think they know? About the Gryphon?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘Ashfallow better show up sooner rather than later.’

  They rode further towards the palace. With every terrace on the hill they passed more and more guards showed themselves.

  ‘They’re definitely aware,’ said Yara.

  ‘We should hurry then.’

  The tall, iron gates cast a cold shadow over them as they stopped and got out of the saddle.

  ‘I have an audience with the king,’ said Yara to one of the guards. He nodded to his colleague across from him and stepped towards the centre to push it open. A stablehand stepped forward and offered to take their horses but both Yara and Laras refused.

  ‘We’ll take them with us,’ said Laras as he held tightly onto his reins and stepped forward.

  ‘No horses on palace grounds,’ the stablehand said, he held out his arm in front of Laras, who did not take kindly to being stopped.

  ‘I understand you follow some sort of protocol and that you don’t want to lose your head, but this horse is coming with us,’ he said as he looked the boy in the eyes. He pulled back his arm and Laras thanked him by nodding. Now he walked forward and into the garden, past the guards and the tall metal fence. Yara and him heard the gates closed behind them with a clatter.

  ‘I can’t believe they didn’t tell you to stay outside as well,’ she said quietly as she leaned her head toward Laras.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘An upjumped farm boy in armour, real nobles notice that kind of thing, and their guards especially.’

  ‘“Upjumped farm boy”? I’m an anointed knight!’

  ‘That’s what I said, upjumped,’ said Yara with a smile, ‘I’m just teasing you.’

  ‘Get it out of your system now, no laughs inside the palace after all.’

  ‘Right, I remember, the king hates fun,’ she said as she saw the palace doors open. The same servant from before stood in the opening impatiently tapping his feet.

  ‘You took your time,’ he said once they were within earshot. Laras tied his reins to one of the fence posts next to the path.

  ‘Does that have to follow you in?’ the servant nodded at Laras.

  ‘He does, he helped me slay the beast,’ said Yara as she turned around, ‘excuse me, I forgot something,’ she loosened the bag from her saddle and took it in one hand, ‘it’s quite heavy.’

  Blood dripped from the bottom of the bag and onto the pristine tile floor, which the servant appeared anything but pleased by.

  ‘I was meant to give this to His Royal Highness.’

  ‘Of course,’ said the servant, ‘right this way,’ he subtly pointed in the direction he and Yara had walked before. Both her and Laras followed, right until they got to the same fancily decorated door. The servant knocked and waited to be allowed in. Once the king yelled from inside the door swung open and Yara and Laras stepped inside.

  ‘Good afternoon, lady Stormcleaver,’ said the king, refusing to look up from whatever he was writing, ‘I’ve been patiently awaiting news on our contract.’

  Laras coughed and the king looked up in surprise at the sound. He was in disbelief at his unannounced visitor.

  ‘Excuse me?’ he asked, ‘I do not believe my audience was with you, but rather with the lovely lady beside you,’ the king stood up, ‘speaking of which…’

  ‘Of course,’ Yara raised up the bag and then extended it forward to the king, who refused.

  ‘Please, you don’t think I’d hold that sack of filth myself do you? It’s positively disgusting,’ he turned away and walked back to the same dresser he’d taken alcohol from before.

  ‘Sit,’ he said, ‘could I interest you now?’

  ‘No thank you, your Highness,’ said Yara as she sat.

  ‘How about your… pawn?’ the king tilted his head and gave Laras a disapproving stare through half-open eyes.

  ‘Not interested myself, but thank you either way, your Highness,’ Laras sat in a more simple chair next to Yara and made himself comfortable.

  ‘This… organ, this heart you have brought me, it was so unnecessary really.’

  ‘With all due respect, your Highness, you said to me that it was what you required for payment.’

  ‘So I did, unfortunately that brings me to something I must regret to tell you at this late moment.’

  Both Yara and Laras knew it was coming, so it surprised neither of them that he’d come up with some lie to catch them out with.

  ‘You see,’ he said, ‘I would pay you what is owed, but you did something that I as king of this great country cannot allow, you attacked and destroyed a sacred Yilgran tradition.

  ‘By your request.’

  ‘This is true,’ admitted king Emil, ‘it was a request I made of you, alas a request is merely words, far different from the sword that brought this country’s greatest tradition to heel.’

  The room shook slightly, like something of great weight had just fallen upon the palace roof.

  ‘As a punishment for this crime I-,’ he was interrupted when the door burst open. A trio of guards and the servant that’d guided Yara and Laras in stepped inside and began to shout something in Yilgran.

  ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘A dragon has landed on the roof, it would seem,’ said king Emil as he threw his glass onto the ground, ‘I ur-,’ once more he was interrupted when the dragon climbed down the side of the roof and showed its face at the side of the window.

  ‘I shall pardon you your crimes if you slay that beast.’

  ‘Apologies, your highness, but we can’t oblige this request.’

  King Emil’s gaze met Ashfallow’s empty eye sockets multiple times.

  ‘We were made aware of what you might try, and I chose to return for the silver you promised either way,’ said Yara, ‘the dragon is for our own protection.’

  Ashfallow bared his fangs.

  ‘You can’t threaten a king, especially not within his own capital, in his own palace no less’

  ‘We can’t, you are correct Your Highness, and that’s why we are not bearing arms, nor raising them against you,’ said Yara calmly as she took the heart out of the bag.

  ‘However our friend, Ashfallow, does not live by our rules, our laws, nor our customs,’ said Laras, he watched Yara throw the heart onto the floor.

  ‘I was promised payment.’

  ‘Call off your beast and you shall have it.’

  ‘He’s not ours, we can’t tell him how to do anything.’

  The king signaled something to his servant, who nodded and walked away, ‘he’ll get you your prize, meet him by the entrance,’ said the king,’ was that all you wanted?’

  ‘It was,’ said Laras, ‘thank you, your Royal Highness,’ he turned to walk away, and so did Yara. The guards rushed to their king as soon as both Yara and Laras had left the room. Ashfallow seemed to have moved away from the window himself as well.

  ‘We should leave as soon as we can,’ said Yara, Laras followed her to the door, where the servant stood waiting again. He held a sack of silver in both hands and handed it to Laras. Yara in turn gave a sealed letter to the servant.

  ‘Only give this to your king once my companion and I are far away from here,’ she said, ‘that’s when he can read it.’

  He simply nodded as he accepted the letter. It must’ve taken everything within him not to rip it open.

  The metallic roof made a near hollow sound as Ashfallow clambered over it. He let out a roar as Yara and Laras exited the palace. They ran for their horses, got into the saddle, and left the palace grounds as quickly as they could. Above them Ashfallow followed through the sky.

  ‘If we can get to the gates we’ll be-.’

  ‘CLOSE THOSE GATES,’ shouted a guard from the palace. The city watch began to shout it all the way until it got to the tall, imposing front gates of the city. They began to close at a steady pace, and they didn’t stop until Ashfallow landed atop them. The mere presence of the dragon had scared away any incentive there had been to follow orders. As Yara and Laras passed through the gates they heard Ashfallow attack and smash down one guard that had gotten too brave for his liking. He took to the sky again in one smooth motion, disappearing into the cloud layer above not long after. They had escaped whatever punishment king Emil Vroul of Yilgra had in mind for them.

  ‘Excitement in the final stretch,’ said Laras, ‘but a fitting end to something so different if I may say so.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘You did give them that letter, right?’

  ‘I gave it to the servant.’

  ‘Now to hope he actually reads it,’ Laras slowed his horse’s pace to help Yara keep up, ‘I think it’s high time I asked.’

  ‘What, you’re going to propose on horseback?’ Yara laughed, ‘bit early isn’t it?’

  ‘No,’ Laras laughed as well,’but it is something I meant to ask you before we split up, before the contract.’

  ‘Go on?’

  ‘Would you like to come home again?’