We traipse to the humble abode where the food is being prepared, and I’m happy to find that most are less interested in us now that the novelty of my arrival has worn off. We get in line with quite a few Were in front of us.
To my surprise, they all step aside, leaving the path to the entrance clear. “Wha..?” I begin.
Flash pushes me forward as my jaw drops. “Don’t look a gift berserk in the mouth,” he mutters as he pushes and prods me along.
I nod in thanks to all the ones who stepped aside. They nod back with varying degrees of humor. One man even chuckled at my dumbfounded stare.
We reach the front and grab two bowls. I quickly retreat to the forest before Flash can rope me into a singing party with the locals.
I sit in a soft spot of moss next to an aging oak tree, unsurprised when Flash plops down beside me. “Utterly delectable. I argued with father about sending the best cook we have with the dragon slayers. But nooo, he said the cook was also the best tracker he’d ever met and we’d need her to be with the team. We’ve been living on pig slop since she left.” He slurps from the bowl with all the manners of the afore-mentioned pig.
“I’m sure it wasn’t so bad as that. I didn’t die from eating in your little town,” I say.
"That, my friend, is a vast understatement. You would have starved eventually. Promise.”
I shake my head at his antics, my lips drawing into a small smile. I take a bite of the soup. And I just about die. “This may indeed be one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”
“Told ya.” Flash throws a wide grin at me. He sobers quickly, the grin fading and a serious expression overtaking his face that makes me wary. “May I ask a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Have you ever been in love with a beautiful woman?”
I choke and he eyes the bowl that almost flew out of my hand with utter relief. That... was not the question I had in mind. I try to compose myself. “No,” I croak out.
He looks at me askance. “What? How?”
I look at the dirt, setting aside my bowl of soup to draw in the ground at my feet. “My life has left little room for a woman.”
“But you’re a prince! Surely you had beautiful women chasing you,” he says, wide eyes still glued on me.
I chuckle without mirth. “You forget, I became an assassin at a young age. No one knew of my previous life except for the Masters. I was just a small shifter left in a world of darkness. Little for the ladies to desire. Besides, I never wanted to draw someone into the nightmare that is my life.”
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“Ahhh. The truth comes out. You were afraid to put someone in danger.”
I shake my head at this crazy Were, my heart pounding with how close he truly came. He’s more like the Imperial than I realized. “How’d your slow cat mind come to that conclusion?
“Crafty. Cats are crafty. Dogs are the... dumber creatures. To answer your question, it goes right along with your diehard attitude,” he says, slurping at his soup again.
I roll my eyes, but a begrudging grin crosses my lips. “Dogs are smart. But also loyal. And I had no time for love.”
“Heather is quite beautiful,” he suggests with a shrug.
My cheeks grow red. “No. Absolutely not. You are not playing matchmaker. I will tell your pretty redhead your given name.”
He smirks. “She already knows it.”
“I’ll...” my mind is drawing a blank and his smirk gets larger.
“You’ll tell Heather you love her and you have beautiful Shifter babies.”
I groan and put my head in my hands. “Never again. I am never again befriending a stuck-up crazy Were of a cat.”
“Panther. And you missed handsome.”
I groan again and climb up the tree.
“Hey. Where ya going?”
“AWAY!”
His laughter follows me as I traverse the branches.
I reach a softly twining branch with a multitude of wrinkles. It’s five times my length long, plus my length in width. The width is perfect. I settle in, content for the first time in many years and without pain. I feel rejuvenated, alive. As if the impossible is possible and hopeful for what is to come.
I spot the hill where my dragon is still asleep. She appears to be a mountainous onyx rock with blue under-shades and hordes of lumps like a toad. The only way to tell she's a living creature is the slow movement of her large round belly with her breathing. Just then, a sigh shakes her frame and makes me smile as she uncurls from her nap. She stretches like a cat with her wings flared fully on both sides. A yawn shows enormous teeth and a sinuous tongue curls from her mouth. She is quite the sight.
I take a moment to enjoy the peace set before me. Gently rolling hills of swaying green grasses. The meandering blue lake that glows like a sapphire in the sunlight. The sky stretched high above with clouds of cotton dotting the light blue canvas.
I look down, running my hand along the wrinkled oak. “I wonder what you’ve seen, old buddy.” I pat a weathered knothole, wondering about this place that feels like spring in the middle of winter.
Some knotholes are as big around as my hand. The old bark has peeled and scarred in some places, and a long, jagged strip of white flesh looks like someone took a knife from the tiptop of the tree all the way to the ground. This tree has endured much. What he could tell us if he could only speak.
I lean my head back against this old one’s bark. “What am I to do, Father? I am one person.”
Trust. The word comes spoken on a whispering wind, for my ears alone.
Trust. Such an easy thing to say.
I hang my head, knowing it’ll be a very problematic thing to do. “I will try my best.”
I feel a warmth cradle me, as if the sun alighted on my heart. That is all I ask.
My lips tip up, and I gaze at the sky once more before quickly sobering with the thought of what lies before me. Just lead me, please. Help me. I can’t do this alone.
I will be with you always. Never fear, for I am your Father. A Father does not leave his beloved son to face these things alone. The words are both a combination of my mother’s teachings and a voice so soft yet so... powerful. The whisper of the wind that could turn into a cyclone in a matter of moments. Soft, but strong. Loving, yet frightening.
I nod to the sky. I will do my best. It's time.