Aytin couldn't help it. After all of the false visions, reality and delusion were too hard to separate.

He stretched a hand out to touch the dragonette in front of him.

Before he could reach her roughly tanned leather jacket, she knocked his hand aside. The swat was accompanied by what he could only assume was a hissed curse followed by a stream of incomprehensible gibberish.

"What?"

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. She towered over him, just like most dragonettes. His horns only came up to a little above her chin.

She said something, more slowly this time. The words... they sounded wrong. He thought he could recognize a few sounds. Little bits, here and there. But they were sharper than he was used to, punctuated by the odd clack as she snapped her jaws.

"I... I don't understand?"

Her glare made it clear that she thought he was some kind of idiot. One hand shot out and grabbed Aytin's wrist in an iron grip and she dragged him towards the edge of the cliff.

For a terrifying moment, Aytin thought that she was going to hurl him off the edge. The way his life had gone, it wouldn't have surprised him for an instant.

But she stopped just short and gestured at the burning forest below. He might not have been able to understand the words that followed, but the flat stare that came after made the question clear.

"Um... yeah. That was me," he admitted, sheepishly. "Well, me and Faelon. Mostly Faelon. He's a dragon."

Aytin realized he probably wasn't making sense to the other dragonette. But to his surprise, her expression changed. Her eye ridges furrowed and ears flicked as she said something that was very close to, "Dragon?"

"Yeah. He's-"

At that moment, a roar echoed through the canyon.

Faelon erupted from the smoke and flames. His sides were heaving and his red scales were stained dark with smoke. Nonetheless, he struck a formidable sight as he roared, "AYTIN!!!"

"Up here!"

The dragon snapped his head up to see Aytin waving from high above.

"You are alive!" His response sounded a touch incredulous, like he couldn't quite believe the young dragonette had survived.

Aytin chose to ignore that as he yelled back, "There were two of them! On the cliffs! But I got one, and..." he trailed off.

The newcomer had backed off, out of sight of the dragon in the canyon below. He was about to pull her forward when Faelon shouted a warning.

"Aytin, look out!"

He had duked and rolled to the side, just as a pair of shadows swooped overhead. They belonged to two more dragonettes, who landed alongside the first amidst unintelligible shouted words.

When he saw that they weren't threatening him, Aytin relaxed. "It's fine! They're... friendly? I think?"

On closer inspection, the trio in question weren't quite cowering, but they didn't seem very interested in approaching the cliff edge. Even when he motioned for them to come closer, they remained where they were.

All three were wearing roughly tanned hides, although they seemed to be well made. Soft fur peaked out from the necklines and sleeves. It looked a lot warmer than the ill-fitting coat he wore.

The one who had saved him was hissing frantically to the other two, gesturing at Aytin, the delerion corpses, and finally down towards Faelon in the valley below. She was taller than her companions, although not by much.

Or maybe she was. Her horns curved back quickly compared to most, masking her true height. Both had simple copper bands encircling their bases, something that reminded Aytin of how his sister Lin wore her huntress rank.

Of the other two, one seemed to be older, maybe in her forties or fifties. Her left ear was notched just above where a large gold ring hung, and she looked to have been through her share of fights. The worst of her damage was the wide, pale scar in the membrane of her left wing.

Nonetheless, she looked healthy enough, and when she interrupted the first dragonette, the tone of command was obvious even through the language barrier.

The youngest and presumably most junior gestured with her flint tipped spear. Her lack of adornments may have been another sign of her rank. Or maybe her family just wasn't as wealthy as the others'. She was smaller, too, the closest of the three to Aytin's height and with a slightly stocky, almost masculine build.

They all carried bows and quivers of arrows. Although their bows looked strange on closer inspection. They were simple wooden shortbows. Hatchlings' toys, really, with far less power than his own laminated composite bow.

'It's no wonder her first hit didn't seem to do much more than piss the delerion off. My arrow crippled the first one, and I couldn't even draw it all the way back. It's not like my bow is much bigger than hers.'

But if they swapped out their weapons for less archaic types and replaced their leather armor with enameled plates, they would be indistinguishable from a group of huntresses. Aytin figured that was probably exactly what they were.

"What is happening up there?!"

Faelon's shouted question made all three huntresses flinch. Aytin just poked his head over the edge and called back, "I'm trying to figure that out! Give me a moment!"

Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself straight and walked deliberately towards the trio of dragonettes. Deciding to address the first one to arrive, he said, "Thank you for saving me." Knowing she probably wouldn't understand a word he was saying, he pointed back and forth from the distant delerion's corpse to her, then back to himself and bobbed his head repeatedly.

After a moment of confusion, she nodded and smiled, hesitantly. A part of Aytin noted that one of her front teeth appeared to be missing, but he made himself focus on her words. They were brief, and had the feel of a "You're welcome", so he made a mental note of them. Then she pointed to herself and said, slowly and clearly, "Rina."

"Rina," Aytin repeated, pointing to her. She nodded, and her smile widened. He felt his own growing to match as he pointed to himself. "Aytin."

"Ah-tin."

"No, Aey-tin," he said, emphasizing the first syllable.

"Aytin." At his nod, she pointed to the other two dragonettes. The leader was apparently Attalee while the junior member of the group went by Ness. Then she pointed down towards the canyon. "Dragon?"

"Yes, Faelon is a dragon. Faelon. Dragon."

That prompted a quick round of muttering between the three, before Attalee spoke up. "Dragon Faelon," followed by more words that he couldn't understand.

"Yeah, he's kind of intimidating, but Faelon is really great when you get to know him."

"I am also still waiting," came the call from down below.

"Right, uh..." There really was no reason they had to have this conversation up here. Aytin gestured at the three huntresses and then down at the canyon floor as he said, "I'm going down there. You meet me."

Putting action to words, he started climbing down the cliff. Without a need to hurry, he took his time, carefully choosing each hand and foothold. It wouldn't do to survive everything else, only to crack his head open at the bottom of a cliff.

'Not to mention how embarrassing it would be. Aytin Luffin: Escaped from brigands, killed a delerion, and died of a fall.'

Up above, the three dragonettes were looking between Aytin and Faelon and then each other, chattering in low voices. They finally cut off when he was halfway down. But instead of flying, Rina got down and gingerly began to climb.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"No!" Aytin shouted. He had no idea she was climbing when he knew for a fact that her wings were fully functional.

Rina stopped, looking uncertain. The meaning of the word had apparently come across. "No?" It had an odd accent, but was definitely recognizable. As was her sharp gesture at him, then herself.

"Just fly down."

Of course, that didn't mean anything to her. She just flicked her ears and furrowed her eye ridges.

In frustration, Aytin extended his own wings, the long gashes clear for her to see. "I can't fly," he said. "I." He took a hand off the wall long enough to point to himself. "Fly." He gave his wings a flap that sent a jolt of pain through the wounds. "No." He shook his head.

When she still didn't move, he pointed to her and said, "You fly."

Finally, the message seemed to get through. Hesitantly, she spread her wings. When Aytin nodded vigorously, she pushed off the cliff to glide gracefully towards the ground below. After a few moments, the other two followed her lead.

They were waiting for him when he finally reached the canyon floor. Aytin motioned for them to follow him towards where Faelon waited. They did, although they stopped well short of the dragon, apparently reluctant to get any closer.

That wasn't Aytin's first concern. He was consumed with concern at how bad his friend looked.

Reds were resistant to fire. But Faelon had charged into the depths of an inferno. He was singed all over. Where patches of scales were missing from earlier wounds, blue-tinged ichor dribbled out of burn blisters. And the edge of his remaining wing had patches of membrane that were shriveled and discolored.

"How are you doing?" Aytin asked. He sniffed and wrinkled his snout as he sat on a nearby rock. The dragon reeked of woodsmoke.

"I will live. It was... bad." He shivered slightly, a tremor traveling from nose to tail-tip. "But it could have been far worse."

"Not much. There were two of them. I think they were both focused on you."

That elicited a slow nod from the dragon. "Likely a mated pair. And you killed them?"

Aytin shrugged slightly. "One of them. Rina got the other."

He motioned towards the dragonette in question. She was with her companions, well back from the dragon and watching with rapt attention.

When Faelon turned his gaze their way, they all seemed to shrink back a bit. Not in a cower, but the dragon's attention definitely made them uncomfortable in some way. Even when he gave a deep nod, they stayed silent and still until he returned to his conversation with Aytin.

"I might have guessed there would be wildlings this far out on the frontier. How did you find them?"

Aytin just gestured at the forest fire, still burning behind them. It was wet enough that the blaze wasn't spreading much, but the cloud of dense smoke would be visible for most of an hour's flight to anyone who was bothering to look.

"I see. Do you know where they came from?"

The dragonette shook his head. "We don't even speak the same language."

"Unfortunate. It means they likely do not have contact with a civilized group. They would have picked up a few words, at least, had that been the case."

Aytin hadn't even considered that. To be fair, he had just been happy to find somebody else - anybody else - on this gods forsaken island.

Wildlings might not have been his first choice for neighbors, but they were far better than brigands.

The uncivilized dragonettes beyond the frontiers of the kingdom's control weren't exactly legends, but they tended to keep to themselves. Aytin knew that traders and explorers occasionally interacted with them, along with keeps on the very edges of the frontier.

"I don't suppose you can speak their language?" Aytin ventured.

"No," Faelon replied. "We encountered them a handful of times, but gestures and pointing were enough to trade. Even so, I doubt these speak the same language as the others I met."

It was hard to imagine what a bunch of wildlings could have to interest a group like Faelon's, so Aytin asked, "What did you trade?"

"Mostly furs and meat for iron tools. One group had rough gold jewelry. For that, we traded steel knives. But it would not have been worthwhile, save for how highly they valued our metals."

Aytin gave the trio a once over. Sure enough, their weapons all appeared to be wood and stone. And aside from Attalee's gold earring and the copper band around the base of Rina's horns, they didn't have any visible metal on them.

"Do you think we could get one of them to fly to another island and get help? We have plenty in the cache to trade."

Faelon looked doubtful. "Perhaps they could carry a message. And perhaps they might even be able to find a settlement. What then? There are no soldiers this far out. And odds are good that it will be spring before another trader arrives. By then, Xantha and the rest will have come and gone."

"But-" Aytin stopped himself before he could mention 'rescue'. 'He isn't getting off this island.'

He coughed slightly to cover the slip, and hunted for something else to say. "But... we should still go get to the cache. It's not far, right?"

"Not far at all." Faelon craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the sun as it dipped below the cliff edge. "I admit that I do not recall exactly how far it is, but I cannot see us arriving after dusk."

"Then let's go."

Aytin tried to lever himself to his feet, but nearly stumbled. His magic wasn't enough to compensate for the sudden weakness in his legs.

"Are you alright?" Faelon looked the dragonette over with some concern.

His spear was over where he had left it by the canyon wall. Aytin's steps became more sure as he approached it, but he still heaved a sigh of relief as he picked it up and leaned against it.

"I think the last few days are catching up to me. Just tired. And hungry," he added as his stomach rumbled.

They both glanced to where the bundles of food and other supplies sat, a bit further up the canyon. Several hard days of cross country hiking had depleted them somewhat, but there was still plenty.

"We eat first," Faelon declared. After a pause, he added, "And invite our new friends to join as well."

As the dragon rose and made his way to the food, Aytin strode gingerly over to the group of wildling huntresses. The spear helped a lot, but his legs felt like all the muscles had been replaced with waterlogged rope.

They eyed him with odd expressions as he approached. This time it was Attalee who stepped out to meet him. She said something in her language, pointing between him and Faelon, then gesturing to the sky and her wings.

"No, we can't fly," Aytin confirmed. Or at least, he thought he was answering the question. He flapped his wings a little, and shook his head vigorously while using the wildling word for no.

Attalee frowned slightly, but seemed to get the message. Aytin took that as a good sign as he motioned for the three to follow. "We're about to eat. Food." He mimed putting something into his mouth and chewing. "Thank you," he added, looking pointedly at Rina.

Sure enough, she seemed to remember the phrase. "Thank you," she echoed in an understandable if thick accent. Then added something in her own language.

Aytin thought for a moment, and repeated the phrase. That earned him a smile and what he remembered as, "You're welcome," in the wildling tongue.

'Yes, no, thank you, you're welcome. I'm making progress!'

They followed him to the remainder of their supplies, although they were still reluctant to approach Faelon. He was rather intimidating, even burned and missing a wing. Aytin figured that they would get used to him in time.

The trio didn't exactly look pleased with the chunks of meat that Aytin handed them. At least in the process, he managed to pick up the words for "meat", "food", and "water".

He certainly did not learn the one for "tasty".

Rina, in particular, looked disgusted with the piece of tough, unseasoned tirox she had been handed. Attalee noticed her expression and said something that sounded like a rebuke. That got the junior huntress to at least take a bite. She didn't exactly seem to be enjoying it.

There were still plenty of apples. They had even sweetened slightly since their harvest. Aytin rummaged through the bags until he found some, and presented them to the huntresses.

It got a reaction, but not the one he had been expecting.

Rina laid into him with such vehemence that Aytin took an involuntary step back. He didn't have to understand a word she was saying to know she was furious at him specifically, although he had no idea why. His only clue was one often repeated word that sounded suspiciously like "Apple".

There was a noise from behind and Rina cut off mid-word. Aytin turned to see Faelon looming over him and looking down at the angry wildling.

Attalee practically leapt to her feet and grabbed her subordinate by the shoulders. She hissed something into the other dragonette's ear before bowing to Faelon. "Dragon Faelon" and "Rina" were the only words Aytin caught, but it was clearly an apology of some sort. A moment later, Rina meekly bowed her head and muttered something that sounded contrite.

"That seems a little excessive," Aytin commented. "It's not like dragons eat people."

Faelon snorted slightly. "I do not expect any dragons make their home here. Recall what you thought when you met me as a youngling."

"Ah. Good point." At least he had known that dragons didn't usually go around using their breath weapons on people who didn't deserve it. "Maybe you can, ummm..."

The dragon fixed the wildlings with a stare and nodded gravely, then went back to his food. For their part, the trio seemed to take that as an apology accepted. Once Faelon's attention was no longer on them, they returned to nibbling at their food, although they were much more subdued about the complaints.

"I think we might have stolen their apples," Aytin whispered as he went to cut more meat for Faelon. A quick glance showed the huntresses all casting surreptitious looks at him and muttering among themselves.

"Indeed," Faelon replied around a mouthful of tirox.

"That keep must have been abandoned for decades. I bet the wildlings raided it when they left. And kept up the orchard afterwards."

"Or they may be the reason that the original keep dwellers left."

Aytin blinked and checked his instinctive reaction to glance back at the wildlings. "Do you really think so?"

A draconic shrug was his response. "Who can say? But remain on your guard. They helped us, yes, but their motivations are their own. Always keep that in mind."

The two lapsed into silence after that. And Aytin recalled the last time that someone had hidden their true intentions.

Believing Xantha was a mistake that he resolved to never repeat again.