Jamie had never asked about the events that transpired in the demon-infested woods. Never questioned my skills, nor did he acknowledge the reason that I had been there in the first place. Whatever he formulated, I’m sure it was far enough from the truth.

Even in a magic-bound world, dragons were still extremely rare creatures. Much less, who I was. If he tried, could he even guess?

He did not chat. Instead, the rest of the walk back had been done in silence. We both had a lot to think about.

Jamie’s thoughts flashed back to his dance with death. Whereas, mine had been clouded with a silent rage.

Seething at the fact my guide had been touched. This silence lasted till the last street that bordered near the Crown Prince’s estate.

It was mid-day by the time that we got back into Trane. The streets were at their prime business hours with each vendor being packed with a line. Shops left their doors open, allowing customers to venture inside at their own will.

“Did you want something before we get back to the Estate?” Jamie broke the silence while pushing his way through the crowds. I followed behind him, not really paying attention.

“I’m good. Let’s just get back.” I responded. All my thoughts diverted to the events from earlier.

We had gotten out of the woods without additional trouble. The demon blood that had been splattered over my clothes had already evaporated, but the scent lingered. It served its purpose.

Sure, it was nauseating to smell constantly. But considering the situation, I wasn’t bothered too much; in that regard, at least.

Jamie had gotten lucky. Those hunger driven demons would have mauled him to death, eating till nothing was left but bones.

It was intentional, all of it.

Damon. That human had sent Jamie to what should have been his death sentence. He was never supposed to leave those woods alive in the first place. Now, I had to figure out how far this act went in the potion department.

If I needed to, I would slaughter them all. It really bothered me. More than I thought it would. It was not out of endearment, no. Demons weren’t like that. Think of it as the anger felt when someone touches your prized playtoy.

In an attempt to squash an ant, they angered someone greater. Me.

Jamie rounded the street turn, the large gates of the estate in the short distance. In his satchel poked out the tops of different types of plants. The plants that he nearly died for.

We walked up to the gates, the guards immediately recognizing me. The one nodded, looking down to Jamie then to the bag of plants.

He signaled the guard standing on the other side, the gates whirled open, creaking.

“Welcome back, Guard Asta.” The inner gate person welcomed me.

I waved, keeping my pace alongside Jamie, who still didn’t say much. His hand gripped the side of his torso, once again the metallic scent of human blood filled the air.

“Fuck. That hurts more than I thought it would.” He hissed, his hand coming back up stained with crimson.

Grabbed his wrist, my eyes staring at the growing red from his shirt. I knelt down to be at eye level with the injury.

Ripping the other sleeve from my undershirt, I sighed. One less shirt for me.

Humans really were fragile creatures. I tucked the fabric around his waist, tightening it along the other one.

Jamie hisses, nearly jerking back from the pain.

“That should hold it for now. I’ll walk you to the medical center.” I tugged at the edges, making a knot.

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He smiled, his steps wobbly from the amount of blood that he’d lost. It wasn’t a lot but enough for a human to get woozy, that's for sure.

“Thanks, Asta, let me lean on you for the rest of the way.” He leaned over, putting his weight against me.

I sighed, pushing him off gently.

“You’re still fine to walk.” I grabbed the back of his shirt, “But if you fall I’ll just hold you up… I guess.”

“Again. Thank you, Asta.” He chuckled, continuing forward towards the entrance of the estate.

I supported his weight in my own way. Still, I had been curious about one thing.

“How did you injure yourself anyway?” I helped him across the first set of stairs to the main court.

“…Oh. This? Truth is, I don’t really know. I had been bending over to pull some weeds that I needed and felt a stinging on my side. Actually, I didn’t realize that I had been bleeding till you lifted my shirt up.” He admitted, grunting as he reached the last step.

Was he joking? He had to be pulling my leg right now. How did a human not realize that he had been cut? Not even a small one, it had been a decent gash.

Weak, incapable, waste of space. I was baffled.

Honestly, I believe him too. He had been surprised at the dog-like demons. Jamie hadn’t known about those woods. I doubt he figured it out before he ran into me.

It could have been a small demon, jumping from a nearby bush and sampling his blood. There were some smaller ones like that in Hellion, right outside of the lower-class area. They were more like pests than anything.

I’m sure that they had an actual name, but Abdeel just called them, “Bloody Little Shits.” The only name that I ever knew them by.

This was a possibility with the varied energy readings that I gathered from the place.

Lars and Daniel had still been on guard in the front of the estate, their eyes widening as they noticed the growing bloodied stain on Jamie.

They rushed over, each taking Jamie on a side. I backed away, meeting eyes with Daniel, who looked for some type of explanation.

“What happened?” Daniel questioned with urgency, both of them already rushing Jamie inside the estate.

I hurried along, staying behind them, as they rushed through the main entrance hall of the estate.

“He was attacked by a demon in the outside forests.” I explained, short and to the point, “The wound is on his left side under his rib cage. I already tightened two bits of cloth around it.”

“What the hell were you two doing in demon-infested woods?” Lars piped in. If I wasn’t mistaken, he looked angry about it. Couldn’t say that I blamed him.

His anger confirmed the fact that I figured from the start. They knew about the woods. Judging from his reaction, it must have been a well-known fact.

Did you really need a reason to kill someone in the first place?

Even if it was just the royalty that knew, it still meant that Jamie was never supposed to have been in those woods.

Neither was I, but I wanted to gloss over that fact.

“Jamie was sent to retrieve potion ingredients. I happened to pass by and heard him.” I half-lied. I mean, to a certain point that had been true.

As good of a liar that I considered myself, Lars didn’t seem to buy it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared at me.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Lars warned, shooting Daniel the same look.

Right. Cool. Just what I needed on my day off.

There was no way that I was getting bitched at for this later, but it would be amusing to see them try. Kill me, I was curious.

“We’ll take him to the medical center for a blood transfusion and some stitches. The potion staff knows about the woods, so it had to be a miscommunication. You should go confirm that though.” Daniel instructed, now putting Jamie on his back.

Lars followed him, holding Jamie’s satchel in his hands. He looked back, before they disappeared around the corner, pointing up the set of stairs at the end of the entrance hall.

“If you head up those stairs and turn left, the potions room should be the third door to your right.” Without another word, the three disappeared around the corner, running footsteps sounding.

Wasting no time, I headed for the steps and turned left. Even without the instructions of which door it was, I would have found it by scent alone. The strong scents of different plants, orbs, and whatever went into potions practically covering the entrance of the place.

I stepped inside, swinging over the door, not bothering to announce my entrance.

“Who the hell is Damon?” I yelled into the room, my voice projecting off the small compound.

At my abrupt entrance, an older man hadn’t bothered to peel his eyes off a purple beaker. There had been shattered glass at the foot of a girl, who dawned goggles. Two males sat at a wooden table, their eyes wide at the teenager that was huffing in ripped clothes.

I felt their eyes follow my angered expression, down to my crimson covered hands from tending to Jamie’s wound. I hoped they assumed the worst.

Fear was a great motivator.

The old man never bothered to lift his eyes from the purple beaker, instead he motioned to the shattered glass of the other.

“Those cost a lot, young man. How do you intend to pay for it?” He commented, calm and collected. Almost like someone hadn’t just busted into the potion compound, screaming.

That someone being me.

“Take it out of my allowance, old man. Do you think I care?” I hissed, marching up to the wooden table that he stood by. I slammed my hand down, nearly knocking over his precious purple beaker.

He never even glanced up, which pissed me off. The old man sighed, holding a hand in dismissal at the younger workers in the room.

“It’s fine. Leave us. This young man and I will have a talk.” He announced. I watched as the younger workers bowed, before all leaving the room in a hurry.

“Look old man, I’m looking for Damon. We don’t need to waste time talking. Just point me to the bastard and look the other way.” I warned, my tone icy.

The old man switched the flame under the beaker off, moving the glass beaker to the flat of the table.

Finally, his aged face peered up at me.

“You’re as hot-headed as they said.” He smiled.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was I speaking gibberish with my demands? Surely not.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got a death wish, old man?” I warned once more.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and sitting on the stool behind him. The old man exhaled, looking up at me with dissecting eyes. I didn’t like him, one bit.

The old man shrugged, “Dragons are supposed to be hot-headed, are they not?”