The world is a haze of black hues and twinkling sapphire.

Above me, something twists and turns as it regards me with restrained power.

“You are called upon to make your contribution for the benefit of Arwyllian life.”

That voice – that – that’s me talking. It’s not my voice…yet it’s me that’s talking.

Something thing above me stirs. Suddenly I see lambent reds mix with the bluey darkness that surrounds me.

“Not my concern. You took an oath in perpetuity. Do not mean to tell me you did not understand its implications. I watched as you made it through different eyes, back when you were a mere wriggling drake.”

There’s anger swirling in the mist, then. I can feel it. I can feel the desire to rend the flesh from my bones fill my entire being.

I look down at my hand. Hand. Not paw. For some reason, this doesn’t shock me, and when my strange, ghostly voice comes again, it speaks with confidence:

“You have some idea of what I could do here, I’m sure. Do not waste the lives of your people. Fifty Glenmaiden Guards is all I request. They will be returned to you unscathed. Of that, you have my word.”

The fire that swirls in the dark is not appeased by these words. And I close my eyes, sigh lightly, and draw the silver sword at my waist.

Something comes flying down at me. This time, I can see it clearly through the dark.

A claw.

“Regrettable,” the me that is not me says. “But such is your nature.”

And when my blade is drawn, it sings with radiant light, boundless energy spinning down its shaft as it is aimed at the dragon’s rising wing.

[Glittering Thrust]

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

“Razzy?”

I wake up in a cold sweat to the sight of my Goddess above me, her face twisted in worry.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Mia says with a hand on her heart. The other one’s stroking my head, lulling me back into a realm of bliss. “You were barking so loud, I thought something was wrong.”

I peer up at her through my sweating brow.

“Just a bad dream,” I say. “Though you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

The smile she beams at me could revive even the weariest soldier.

“Training!” I shout. “I – I’m late, I-“

“Shhh,” Mia whispers, placing a milky finger on my quivering lips. “Not today, Razzy-Wazzy. Today, you’re gonna be alllllll mine.”

“W-Wha?” I manage to whimper back as she starts giving my grumbling tummy a rub.

“I asked Sis if I could take you around the village today,” she says with a wink. “You’ve been here a week now, and all you’ve seen is the Glen! You simply have to try one of Arthelia’s pork pies. Oh, and the girls down in the commune are very curious to see you.”

“I mean, that sounds nice…but what about your sister?”

She sticks out her tongue. “I asked if she could let us have some time alone for once. She’s had you all to yourself all this time, little Razzy, it’s so unfair of her. So, just for today, you’re gonna have a day off with yours truly to work off all that tension from your training. And I promise, you’ll never feel more relaxed…”

I fight my leg’s urge to kick out in excitement. This is a Lady here, after all! And let it not be said that I am not a gentleman hound.

While I can only imagine the look on Myrathellon’s face when Mia concocted this plan, something else suddenly comes to my mind.

“Can I ask you a favor, Mia?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Her eyes twinkle down at me. “Anything, Razzy. This is your day.”

I lick my lips. “Can Swifty come with us?”

She giggles. “Of course! He’s your friend, isn’t he? That is,” she adds with another wink. “If you don’t mind sharing me…”

This girl really needs a lesson in appropriate animal-humanoid interaction.

But…she won’t get it from me.

“Get ready and meet me downstairs in ten, Razzy,” she says, planting a sweet kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be waiting.”

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

Myrathellon’s not even downstairs when I get there. Possibly, she’s reached levels of anger that have made her transcend this mortal plane.

To my surprise, Mia’s already speaking to Swiftrunner by the door.

“Swifty!” I shout.

“Good morning, Raziel,” he replies with a bow. “Thanks for inviting me along with you both. I promise, I shall remain as just a casual observer.”

Mia blushes slightly and I’m slowly getting more weirded out here.

“Aw Swifty, you couldn’t stay quiet if you tried. Such is your nature!”

He smiles as we follow Mia out, and I’m preoccupied suddenly with wondering why I said that…

The village is bristling with life – every Elf we pass by on the rickety bridges between shrooms greets us with a gleeful ‘Good morning!’ as we make our way towards a sweet-smelling hut at the far end of the West wall.

“This place practically sings with magic,” Swiftrunner observes casually as we make our way down one of the rope bridges. “It is a wonder you have managed to conceal it from the outside world for so long.”

Mia shrugs. “Our cousins up North prefer to live out in the open,” she says. “They are…a little rougher around the edges than us.”

“I have heard of your Northern tribe,” Swiftrunner replies. “The Elves of Tal’Marok – yes? Winter wolves of the North say they are fierce and hardy warriors as befits their environment.”

Mia shudders. “They’re…they’re something. Though most of us haven’t ever visited Tal’Marok in ages. Why would we when we’ve got out little magic kingdom here?”

Swiftrunner says nothing, and I note that he’s absorbing this information. Paranoid as ever…

Anyway, day-date first stop: Arthelia’s cakery.

On my morning runs to the waterfall I’m sometimes struck by something wafting through the air – something freshly baked that couldn’t be mistaken for the plant spores that always travel through the air here. For some reason though, the desire to explore the places never did take me. Until now.

We enter and a little bell dings at the top of the door.

“Morning Arthe!” Mia shouts.

The woman cleaning behind a wooden counter – evidently Arthe – is wrinkled and hunchbacked, probably thousands of years old to look like that by Elf standards. Still, even through her tired features, she fixes me with two hazelnut eyes and offers me a hand.

“Raziel,” she says as she shakes my paw. “Be welcome here, Lightborn. I must say I find you far more handsome than the last one that came through.”

She shares a little wink with Mia as I feel myself blush.

“I - uh – thanks, Miss,” I reply. “You’ve got some fine cakes here.”

She brims with joy as I appraise the wares that line her shelves – jars of colored candies, cream-encrusted pastries, and some frothing teas bubbling in some cauldrons at the back of the room.

“I should hope so!” she croaks. “My family’s been running this cakery since before Glenheim was closed off to the outside. Used to be adventurers would come from all parts of Arwyll to enjoy Arthelia’s famous sweets and treats…”

She trails off, seemingly lost in memory.

“Why did this place get hidden away?” I ask absent-mindedly, totally focused on the cakes that look better by the second up on those shelves...

“Ah, humans,” Arthelia sighs. “They ruin most things…”

“Not all of them,” Swiftrunner states.

“You met many good humans, have you?” Arthelia replies with a scoff.

“It is surprising what you can see when you leave your home.”

Though I’m not really listening in to this conversation, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. If I had an awkward moment detector, it’d be going off the charts right now.

“And hopefully we will be able to again, one day,” Mia says, beaming her smile at Arthelia. “Maybe once this Darkseed is defeated, and the world knows we helped the Lightborn out, we’ll be safe out there again.”

Arthelia shakes her silver locks. “Maybe, Sis,” she replies. “Maybe. But I don’t know…”

“Uh, so…” I cough. “How much for one of these bad boys?”

The Elf looks up as though awoken from some long slumber, shakes her head again and smiles:

“Oh, for the Lightborn, it is – what’s the expression? – ‘On the house?’ Pick out anything you like.”

Now that’s a price range I can get behind.

“Got anything with jam?” I ask, my tongue flicking out like a snake’s.

Amidst Mia’s laughter, Swiftrunner groans.

“Raziel, you have become a pampered pooch…”

“Hah!” Arthelia shouts. “Got just the thing. Made a few fresh batches of these this morning.”

She bumbles around underneath her desk and returns with three ring shaped pieces of fluffy bread.

I give the deserts a liberal sniff.

I mean, it smells good…bottoms up!

My eyes fill. My pupils dilate. My mouth begins salivating like I’ve just been stabbed with the rabies bug. As I bite down on the doughy piece of heaven the sweet flour breaks away and an explosion of jam fills my gullet.

[Consume]

LVL 2

Item: Sweet Elf treat

Consumption of deserts does nothing but add to your weight. Refrain from excessive indulgence in sweets to maintain a healthy fig-

Ah, shut it for once! There’s a party in my mouth. And the dress code is red…

“Wh…what is this magic?” I ask, my eyes hypnotized.

“Hehe!” Mia giggles. “There it is – Arthelia’s done it again!”

The Elven baker takes a well-deserved bow. “I call them ‘Doughnuts’”, she says. “Ring shaped pieces of flour sprinkled with sweetened herbs, glistened with honey from Dalien Mushrooms, and filled with jam. Got raspberry and blueberry flavor, both. And,” she leans over the counter at me. “You’re welcome to them whenever you like. Free of charge.”

I give an unrestrained bark and lick this woman – this glorious, beauteous woman – then turn to Mia with tears in my eyes.

“Oh, Miss Mia,” I moan. “I don’t know how to thank you…”

She and her fellow Elf laugh as Swiftrunner sighs behind them both.

“Razzy,” she says, wiping excess jam from my mouth. “Our day has only just begun.”