A glorious dragon led a group of humans — along with a bear and a strange-looking skeleton — through the rocky outcrops of the Dragon’s Eye.

At nearly twenty feet of height, he dwarfed even the tallest of his charge, a single one of his steps requiring four of their own to keep up. The dragon’s scales were the purest blue of the mid-day sky, and his eyes shone with the wisdom of the twin moons. A proud specimen of his species…

If only he could keep his excitement in check.

As the youngest member of his clutch at just shy of a century of age (he was the oldest son, yes, but only by virtue of being the only son), Al’vathazen had never seen a human before. Oh, he knew they existed — his Mother had impressed upon him the importance of not meddling in their affairs. They were small, weak creatures, who lived and died like mayflies, but there were many of them. So, so many. And even the dragons’ nigh-Ascendant might didn’t make them immune to simple lucky shots. Al’vathazen’s eldest sister had perished that way, long before he had been born, and Mother mourned her passing still.

There were so few of them left…

Al’vathazen put those thoughts out of his mind. He was guiding this group of humans along the vitreous island, approaching the cave system beneath the volcano where the nest was located. But the young dragon kept sneaking glances at the humans whenever he thought they weren’t looking — he couldn’t help it; he wanted to know everything about them.

Not that he’d ever admit that, of course. Guth’razim, one of the oldest of his siblings, had made it clear to him that humans as a whole were beneath them. That it was unbefitting of a dragon to lower themselves to converse with a human.

She’d repeated that many times, and Al’vathazen had noticed how his sister would stroke the scar on her right arm each time she did. Guth’razim had never told him the story behind it, but now that he’d felt the magical hum surrounding the wizard, he was beginning to suspect where his sister’s dislike for humans had come from.

He knew Guth’razim would have told him to play the part of a regal, dignified dragon. He knew he’d be scolded if he didn’t. But he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check anymore. He wanted to know—

“Hey, Mr. Dragon? My friend wants to ask, but he’s too shy — can you breathe fire?”

Al’vathazen’s head snaped around at the sound of the voice, and his eyes zeroed in on the boy who spoke. A young boy, whose slanted eyes reminded the dragon of his own had been the one to speak. To his side, another boy, one with much darker skin than the rest of the group was staring in mute horror at the first boy.

A few of the children squirmed under his gaze, but Al’vathazen could see the same curiosity squirming under their skin.

An opportunity, he thought. If he could turn this into a dialogue, he could find out more about them, and keep his scales intact—!

But first, he needed to correct their impropriety.

“My name is Al’vathazen, little human. Address me by it, or not at all.” The dragon was pretty proud of the phrasing. In some of the books he’d acquired over the years, he’d seen kings addressing people like that. It seemed fitting to emulate them.

The first boy blinked. “Oh, okay. Sorry about that. Shiro,” he said with a slight bow.

Al’vathazen craned his head in confusion. “Pardon?”

“My name is Shiro, I mean. I thought we were doing introductions? Anyway, this is Cam,” he said as he tapped the other boy on the shoulder, shaking him from his stupor, “and those are Sarah, Alexis, David and Etin. Oh, and Winnie.”

Al’vathazen nodded wisely, trying not to give away the fact that he’d already forgotten their names. He noted how the boy hadn’t included the older man in the introductions. Were they not part of the same group, he wondered? But they’d come with the same ship, and the man had assumed control at the beginning.

Mother had told him to bring the man to her, but she hadn’t told him anything more about him — and she hadn’t given him any instructions regarding the rest of the group. They followed, though, so they were probably together.

Al’vathazen really wanted to know more about the strange man. But first, he needed to make sure he didn’t mess up his lines—

“So, about the fire thing?”

The dragon blinked, distracted from his plotting. What had the boy wanted to know? If dragons breathed fire? “Not unless we use a spell to do so. Fire breathing is the domain of the lowly drakes.” He furrowed his brow, blanketing the children with the force of his aura. “Though I am offended that you’d mistake us for those pitiful whelps.”

Cam brought his hands up placatingly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. I didn’t know drakes existed, either.”

“Oh, I have. If only you’d joined up sooner…” the armored girl said quietly.

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Al’vathazen nodded sagely. “I suppose this much can be excused. Such lack of knowledge is to be expected from a lesser species.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” a different boy asked, outraged.

“Have I said anything wrong, human? Your species knows little, lives for barely a heartbeat, and excels at expanding your numbers beyond any other species. Much like insects, in fact,” Al’vathazen said, quoting one of his sister’s rants. He thought it was a fair description, containing both the humans’ shortcomings and their strengths.

To his surprise, his words had the opposite of the desired effect

“Wow. Did he just say that?” the armored girl asked.

“Sounds like he wants a can of whoop-ass,” Shiro said.

“Children, please don’t start a fight just yet,” the man said amusedly, and Al’vathazen turned to see him quirk his lips in amusement.

“But did you hear what he said?”

“I did,” he said with a nod. “But your question was just as offensive, if I’m not mistaken. Maybe you should all take a step back and forget any assumptions you’ve made about the other.”

Al’vathazen stumbled a step, chagrined by the wizard’s words. He was right — and clearly, Guth’razim’s tales had been heavily biased. He withdrew his aura, not that it had done anything, to his surprise. He hadn’t put much force into it, but it was still supposed to suppress any being below his level, which should have included just about every human. Had those assumptions been wrong as well, then?

“I apologize,” Al’vathazen said, lowering his head. “I gave too much credence to my sister’s stories, who I now believe has been wounded by a human during her travels.”

Alexis nodded knowingly. “So now she talks crap about us, right?”

“Just so,” the dragon said with a grin. “I should have realized it earlier — she always has been a sore loser.”

“Sounds a lot like my brother,” David said. “Got his ass kicked at judo by some guy who’d just moved in, so he decided to blame his failure on immigrants. Such a tool.”

Al’vathazen didn’t notice when the young humans moved forward, but he wasn’t leading alone anymore, with only the wizard having remained behind. Soon, the previous enmity was forgotten as both sides asked question about question about their respective species.

Words popping inside of Al’vathazen’s head broke him out of his cheerful mood.

What do you like the least about being a dragon? he heard — and the voice was distinct from his Mother’s, who was the only one he knew could do something like this. Instead, he tried to follow the link, which led him straight to the skeleton.

Al’vathazen stared in wonder. “You can speak?”

Etin nodded.

“Incredible! What manner of creature are you?”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t be rude. Etin is a person, alright?” Sarah interjected, crossing her arms as she moved protectively before Etin.

“I mean no disrespect. But I’ve never even heard of someone like you. How did you come to be?”

Father made me, Etin said as he glanced towards Julian. Now, my question?

“What I don’t like about my species? That would have to be… just how few of us there are. More die than there are born — one day, none will remain,” he said, his wings drooping. He perked up again as he took another glance at the skeleton. If Julian could create life from nothing, could he perhaps help his species? “This kind of magic — I don’t think any of the dragons can do something like this.”

“Pretty sure Julian invented it,” Cam said. “He brought us back to life, too.”

Had Al’vathazen’s eyes been able to go any wider, they would have. As it were, he could only stare agape. “You— you mean you died? And you still walk with the living?”

“Yup,” Sarah said with a grin. “What, did you think only dragons could do incredible stuff?”

He scratched at the ground. “Well… yes. Until today, in any case. It looks like I need to be more skeptical of my siblings’ tales.”

David nodded. “I can confirm. My siblings are full of shit.”

Al’vathazen turned to Julian, who remained a few steps behind. Now, that was a tough egg to crack. He’d remained silent for most of the trip, content to let the younger generation converse with the target of their adulation. But it was clear now that the wizard had downplayed his importance when he introduced himself — unless all the Archmagi could do the same as he had? Al’vathazen shuddered — if they were, the dragons’ position was much more precarious than he thought. After all, the humans could create an Archmagus every few decades, while a new dragon would be born maybe once every few centuries.

“Are they all like him?” Al’vathazen asked, figuring it would be easier to ask the children than Julian himself.

“All who?”

“Archmagi. Are they as powerful as him?”

“Well… yes and no. They’re as good as or better at the flashy stuff, but I think the raising the dead part is all him.”

“I developed it, yes,” Julian mumbled. “And I still need to get that lawsuit over with to prove it.”

Al’vathazen’s ears perked up. “Lawsuit?”

“Oh. That,” Sarah said with a snort and brought the dragon up to speed. By the end of it, Al’vathazen was incensed.

“They stole from you? And they remain unpunished?” he thundered, his eyes red with rage.

“Unfortunately, the hand of law moves slowly in human society — and making your own justice is rather frowned upon,” Julian said with a sad smile.

“Unfortunate. If someone had done that to me, I would have—”

“Killed them?” Alexis asked.

“Well, no. But I would have informed Mother, which can be just as bad.”

“That’s who were going to meet, right?” Shiro asked.

Al’vathazen nodded. “The Matriarch of the Dragon’s Eye. The Queen of Dragons.” He paused. “And my Mother.”

“Oooh, so you’re, like, a prince,” Sarah said, looking up at him.

The dragon was happy they could not see him blushing from their position. “Well, you’re not quite right, but—”

“I’m not exactly wrong, either, right?” Sarah asked with a grin.

Instead of answering, he scratched at the ground.

“A princely escort. Isn’t that cool?” she asked as she turned to the rest of the group.

“As long as they don’t decide we’re the main course,” David said.

“Of course not! Mother invited you, which means you are guests, even if you’re not of our kind. You have nothing to fear in the Dragon’s Eye.”

“I believe you,” Sarah said, though Al’vathazen could tell from her tone that something was wrong.

“You don’t.”

She looked at him. “I do,” she said, glancing at Julian through the corner of her eye. “I don’t trust the guy who told us to come here, though. He’s the sketchy type.”

He looked at her askance.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to elaborate,” she said as Julian shook his head at her. “It’s between the Boss and your Mom.”

Al’vathazen resolved to ask Mother to let him sit on their meeting.

“That meeting is nearly here,” he said after a few minutes of quiet, moving out of the way to reveal the gargantuan mouth of a cavern. “We have reached the entrance to her abode. The Seat of the Dragon’s Eye.”