4. LEGENDS LOST TO TIME

I awoke to the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains. The city outside was awake with life, and I found the noises intruding into my mind. Where I had been wasn't precisely abandoned countryside, but Philadelphia was a bustling metropolis by comparison. Beth clung needily to my side; Even in sleep, she refused to be distanced from me.

I felt torn. She had strong opinions on our entanglement, and the right thing to do was to accept them and respect them, if I could trust that they were her genuine beliefs. That doubt remained. Had I forced her to feel this way? Would the girl she was a week ago have agreed to this if I had given her that choice? She had practically thrown herself at me last night, begging for any of my attention. How would she feel if I could undo my changes to her and let her old self view what she had done? I felt obligated to undo my modifications and return her to how she was before I met her so that she could have the ability to choose, but I didn’t know how.

If I found a way to do that, would she be happy? Is it better to have her return to how she was before I had meddled, even if she wouldn't be pleased, or was it better to have her changed and feel content now? She claimed she felt great now and had been lost and alone before, but could I even trust her thoughts? Had I changed her view to one that would resist me undoing changes? Would another modification even be a repair, or would it just be more damage?

The beast in my brain urged me to relinquish these thoughts. He had protected her because she was to be our mate; He hadn't forced her to do anything. He hadn't understood them, but he had listened to my desires and not simply commanded her to be ours. He saw her simply as a means to an end, but I didn't, and it wasn't disastrous to let me lead when dealing with humans. He hadn't changed her profoundly, or against her will, so we didn't need to worry about changing her back. For the first time, I felt some anxiety from him.

He hated the disconnect between us — we would never be able to ascend while in constant internal discord. He insisted that he wouldn't do anything against my wishes unless it was absolutely life or death. I didn't trust him and he hated it. He wanted to rage and run wild and fight and destroy the disconnect between us — but he was cognizant enough to understand that impulse would only increase our divide. His natural reactions to embrace destruction were only making his life harder.

I shook aside my inner turmoil — it was too early to have an internal philosophical debate, and I was tired of fighting with the alien in my mind. I didn't even know if I could return her to how she was; Hopefully, Antonin could offer some advice whenever I was allowed to meet with him. Pestering Aisling about my relationship with a girl felt wrong, even if it was caused by my awakening. Perhaps I would ask her for advice — after all, if I couldn't trust myself to interact with anyone, how could I offer services to her dominion? Or would revealing my weakness simply get me disposed of because I couldn’t be trusted to provide benefits? Let's pretend I understood what assistance I could even offer.

Beth must've awoken as I tumbled over the thoughts in my mind because she asked me, "I can feel your... doubt? Guilt? Fear, maybe? What are you thinking about?"

I figured I owed her the truth. She said she loved me last night and then aggressively pursued me physically. Maybe it was just an emotional response to the massive changes in her life, and giving her insight into my thoughts would sober her a bit. It's not that I wanted to scare her off; the dragon roared about her being our mate and us needing her after all, but tempering her emotions would make me more comfortable. When I praised her, she practically glowed, but when she thought I had rejected her, she collapsed so utterly as if her world had ended in front of her eyes. I didn’t want that level of power over someone.

Recognizing the sheer magnitude of power my otherwise thoughtless comments had over her was a terrifying realization. I was almost glad to have had this realization with her so that I could understand, correct, and further prevent it. Better than doing it as a public representative in Aisling's court. The beast thought I should say what I thought regardless of how others would feel — after all, we were the leader of dragons in this region, and we were entitled to our opinions because of our strength. I ignored him and explained myself to Beth, attempting to consider how she felt.

"I'm scared of what I've done to you. I think I've fundamentally changed you, and it makes me uncomfortable to think I could have such an impact without your consent."

She thought for a moment before sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Maybe you did. I don't care. I'm the happiest I've been, probably ever. Not just because I came so hard last night, but that was great, too."

She stood and held a hand out to me. "C'mon, you need a shower before you meet your pet vampire. We made a bit of a mess, and you smell like it."

I groaned, hoping she would be more cautious with her words in front of anyone else. I gave her my hand and allowed her to pull me to my feet.

"Aren't you worried that I've taken your free will? That I've forced you to be this way and to be happy about it?"

"You haven't taken my free will. And if you've made me happy, why should it matter?"

"How can you know that I haven't taken your will? How can I trust your opinion on this when I may have tainted your entire perception?"

"Did you even have thoughts about rolling in bed with me before I dragged you into it? I know you didn't. You spent all day yesterday tolerating me, acting like I was, I dunno, your daughter, maybe? You protected me and humored my requests. You let me hold you all day, but at no point did you force yourself on me, even if I wanted you to. You were a gentleman with a lady, even if I'm not one. You acted like you were holding a precious piece of jewelry, afraid to handle it because it might break. So, did you make me do something you hadn't even considered? Of course not."

I found myself walking through the hallway behind her into the bathroom. Already undressed, I was pushed into the shower by the tiny woman who had brought me here. I glanced at what was stocked on the shelves — men's and women's shampoo, a couple of bars of soap, and several washcloths. It would do just fine, considering I hadn't even thought to look before beginning the process.

"I guess you're right. I couldn't have intentionally made you want to do something that I was avoiding myself. How would you have felt about our relationship two days ago?"

"I dunno. A hot guy who cared about my feelings and took me in and was a perfect gentleman? Probably fine with it. Would've moved slower, but being able to feel your emotions and feel you protecting me and holding me all the time put everything on fast forward. So yeah, it's better than where I was."

The water that poured out of the shower head was warm and relaxing. I felt Beth moving her hands all over me. I was still lost in my thoughts. I guess I was going to have this discussion anyways. At least with another person, I could get feedback on how crazy I was. The beast in my mind was patronizingly telling me, "I told you so; I only did what you wanted." Not that I could trust that snake. Snake. Dragon. Hah.

"I think I'm going to ask Antonin if there's a way to undo it when I get to meet him."

Beth wrapped her arms around my chest and pressed herself against me. Her voice wavered when she spoke. "Please don't do that." She smelled like she did during the dinner with Aisling, anxious and unwell.

"I need to know if I can repair you, undo the damage I did."

She stepped around me, stood on her toes to get as close to my face as she could, and then laid into me, her finger jamming into my chest. "Now you listen here, Mister. I don't need any fixing today. If you want to ask them if you can undo it, fine. I guess you want to know. But you would be making me the lonely, scared, barely making ends meet, wondering where she would be sleeping that night, no time to think about the future girl I used to be. That's not 'fixing' me. You can find out if you have to, but I don't want it. You're worried about what I want; I want anything but that. Are we clear? You're scared you did something I didn't want. I'm telling you now — I want this. I want you. I want us. Don't you dare fuck with it."

What she was saying highlighted the dilemma I was feeling. She was content now, even if it was potentially against her previous will. Undoing my changes would make the current her miserable. If undoing my changes would make her less happy, even if I was fixing a mistake, would it be right to do it? I supposed not. The person she used to be didn't exist now; the person she was now vehemently rejected the idea of returning to who she was. Maybe I had changed her against her will, but if I pursued undoing it now, I definitely would be going against her will toward a future neither of us wanted.

I concluded that I still needed to know more about what I had done to her. I needed to be able to prevent doing it in the future. But I wouldn't try to force her to change back. She claimed to be in a better place now and didn't want to return. As the warm water from the shower poured over the two of us, I could feel my apprehension and guilt over what I had done drip down my body and swirl down the drain.

Beth relaxed back onto her feet, no longer trying to impose her will on me. "You've come to some kind of decision. I can feel your stress going away."

She had said things like that too often for me to continue ignoring them. "I need to ask about what I did so I don't do it accidentally again, but I won't try to undo what I've done to you. But what do you mean, you can feel my stress going away? My heartbeat and breathing slowed down, and my muscles relaxed?"

Beth shook her head, droplets of water splashing as she did. "No, I don't know how to describe it, really, but I can feel your emotions. It's, like, a color, I guess. It's bright when you feel something strongly, dark if you aren't feeling anything in particular. This morning you've been full of doubt, and it's been stressing you out. Yesterday you had some nervousness, but we bounced through so much that it never grew into much. But now the guilt is gone. There isn't much there now."

"Yeah, I need to talk to someone about what I did to you. This is insane. Maybe Cynthia will know before I start blabbing to others I've never met."

She gripped me tight again, her tiny hand clenching my wrist with surprising strength, "You won't undo it, right? It makes me feel so close to you. I don't want to be alone again."

"Geez, Beth. I will not undo anything I did to you unless you ask me to — I promise it."

She looked up at my face, her brown eyes searching my own for any malice or mistruth. After a moment, she must have decided she wasn't going to find any, and she said, "Good. Now you need to shower and get dressed if you want to talk to Cynthia alone before your pet vampire gets here."

The rest of the shower was primarily done in silence. Beth and I had addressed the most significant issue I had experienced, the only one I felt was time-sensitive. So we just enjoyed the water and each other's presence. I washed her hair, and she melted against me and made the most adorable little mewling noises while I rubbed her scalp.

I dressed in some of the provided clothes and headed to the kitchen. I hoped we had a place to wash our clothes, as I had yet to see a washer or dryer in the apartment. Perhaps they were communal. Cynthia was in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee on one of the stools. I found a mug, poured myself a cup, and then joined her.

She blushed as I looked at her and said, "Morning. It sounded like you had an enjoyable night."

It was my turn to blush, and I stammered back, "Ahh, yeah. I was hoping to talk to you about that."

She smiled, and her voice was breathy as she replied, "It certainly didn't sound like you needed any advice. I bet Beth was very pleased this morning."

I stared blankly at Cynthia for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening. Had I changed her, too? Was I a danger just being around her? My doubts disappeared when she giggled at me, and I realized she was just teasing me. I hoped.

"Ok, lover boy, ask your questions."

"Sorry, that was just such a switch from the vision of you I've built up in my mind from years ago. I know that's not accurate now, and it was a mask you wore intentionally, but the change scared me. I think I changed parts of Beth's personality, and I was terrified for a moment there that I had somehow changed you, too."

"It didn't sound like she minded the changes." I could hear the laughter in her voice as she continued teasing me.

"No, but it scares me that maybe I've changed her to be happy with the changes. My actual question was that she said she could see my feelings. She said she could see different colors depending on how I felt, and their luminosity changed with the intensity of my feelings. Do you know of anything like that?"

She pursed her lips and frowned at me. We sat silently for a moment, and she sipped her coffee before looking at me again. "That’s going to annoy Sam to no end, although I’m not sure why it would start now. Perhaps she had some latent power of her own? I don’t want to speculate. I have some information to give you this morning, but I was waiting for our government attache. She'll have official sources and reliable information, whereas I have oral history and inconclusive statements. At the very least, she'll be able to put you in touch with the archivist, who will probably have the most information of anyone in this country."

"Alright, I can live with that. How long until she should be here?"

"Half an hour or so. Would you like breakfast?"

I shuddered at the thought, "No, thank you. I had too much last night and don't usually have breakfast."

I finished my coffee and moved to one of the couches. A blink later, Beth was curled up next to me. Once she was snuggled into me, her face buried into my chest and her arms wrapped around me, she asked, "What freaked you out when you talked to Cynthia?"

I put one of my arms around her. "She was teasing me about the noise we made last night. But, she was doing it in such a sultry manner that I was worried I had changed her. It was a bit unnerving."

"Did she know about why I know your feelings?"

"Maybe? She wanted to wait. Wasn't confident her answers were based on facts instead of rumors and hearsay."

While we talked, Sam came out of the hallway. She looked like hell. She was wearing a bathrobe lazily wrapped around her, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, large bags hanging beneath them. Some of her hair stuck up into the air, and she stumbled like a zombie to get a mug to pour herself a cup of coffee. She brought her cup with her as she came over to the couches. This was going to be a bit awkward.

"Morning," I offered.

She grunted an acknowledgment, but her eyes shot death and damnation at me. If she didn't look so disheveled, I would've been intimidated. Her eyes looked like she would rain hellfire upon me if she could.

We sat in awkward, pained silence. Eventually, Sam finished her coffee and deposited the mug in the kitchen sink to be washed. She didn't return to the couch, and a minute later, I heard the shower kick on.

I was about to ask either Cynthia or Beth what they thought that was about, but a knock on the door interrupted me. Cynthia moved and opened the door, extending an arm to invite our visitor inside. A lean, tall, pale woman stepped inside, and she smiled and inclined her head towards Cynthia before turning and addressing me.

"Good morning, milord. I am Evgenia Popov, and Her Majesty the Queen has assigned me to assist you in matters of politics and business." As she finished her statement, she gave a shallow curtsey and again inclined her head in deference.

I stood to respond and took in who was talking to me. Evgenia was tall, perhaps six foot. Her modest black heels meant she could meet my eyes without lifting her head. She was discernibly paler than average, nearly as colorless as Aisling had been when the Queen was imposing her will. Her eyes were blue, but they would never be confused with Sam's. My childhood friend had deep blue eyes, rich and deep and full of life and emotion. This woman in front of me had pale, light blue eyes that were sharp. Cold and calculating, crisp and perceptive. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, contrasting starkly with her ghostly, perfectly unblemished skin. She wore a smart, professional black dress and an ornate watch adorned her wrist. In her left hand, she carried a briefcase. She raised her right hand to offer a handshake as I stood and crossed the room to the entranceway.

I took it and was surprised at how cold her hand was. I felt like I was grabbing a metal railing on a winter morning. "A pleasure to meet you." I gestured to the table and asked, "Shall we take a seat?"

She bowed and said, "Of course, milord." Alarm bells rang in my mind as I internally rejected the deference she was offering. After my initial interactions with Beth, I deserved to be questioned and hindered, not blindingly followed.

We moved to the dining room, and she set the briefcase she was carrying on the table before sitting. I sat next to her, and Cynthia claimed the seat on my other side. Beth remained where she was on the couch, observing but not participating for the moment.

Evgenia opened the briefcase and pulled out the top piece of paper. She slid it to me and began explaining, "This, milord, is a contract for my services. I am able to provide political advice, and I have acquired some degree of business acumen. I am fully qualified as a legal counselor by the State of New York."

I looked at the woman who was beside me in bewilderment. She looked young, perhaps a year or two older than me. "You've finished a law degree and passed your bar exam? How old are you?"

She shrunk from my question, embarrassed. She answered quietly, "I don't have a degree here in the US. New York offers some flexibility in accepting overseas accreditation. Her Majesty had use for a legal professional, so she found a place where I would be able to gain it as quickly as possible. In most places of employment, the degree would've been required as well, but our Queen simply needed permissible representation."

All she had managed to do was give me more questions, but I didn't want to interrogate her within minutes of meeting her. I returned to the document I was holding and balked again at the brevity. It contained only a guarantee that she was to follow my instructions until I dismissed her from my service. This wasn't a standard client contract; This was signing her life away to servitude. Her name was signed at the bottom, a bloody fingerprint adorning the flourishes of her signature.

I swallowed and cautiously asked, "Have you read this? Do you know what this means?"

She retrieved a pen and a small knife from her briefcase and set them in front of me while she answered. "Yes, milord. I penned the contract this morning. It was what Her Majesty directed. Our Lady suggested it would be easier for you to trust me this way. Her Highness was of the opinion that vampires and lawyers both have a somewhat justified reputation for manipulation and deception. She advised that this would make you more accepting of assistance." Her voice was level while she explained, but I felt no more comfortable with this.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but how do you feel about this?"

"Our Lady intimated that your trust was of utmost importance and that an open-ended agreement would be best for the realm as a whole."

She hadn't answered any of my questions directly so far. My confidence in her abilities as a legal advisor had grown, but I still wasn't comfortable signing the document. "I want to know what you think about this agreement, Evgenia. Please don't evade me again. If I have to, I will sign this and order you to tell me what you think about it."

She looked at me, her cold eyes softening somewhat. "I am confused as to why it matters to you. I am apprehensive about the possibility of the worst imaginable outcomes, but I did not expect this to be the sticking point this morning. I assumed my services would be rapidly accepted when I was ordered to prostrate myself for another as an offering from Her Majesty. Am I unsuitable for your plans? I'm sorry to have displeased you, milord."

Cynthia spoke for the first time, "Honey, what do you know about this situation? What have you been told about James?"

Evgenia's eyes bounced back and forth between the two of us, uncomfortable with her introduction veering far from the course she had predicted. "I was told yesterday that a powerful representative would be coming to reside in our Realm for some time, potentially interfacing regularly with the council. I would be required to assist them as they saw necessary. This morning, Her Majesty summoned me and had me put together these documents, and then she directed me here."

I slumped into my seat and exhaled. That wasn't what I had wanted to hear.

Cynthia frowned again and said, "I guess Aisling is keeping you under wraps for now. An interesting plan, to not even let the advisor know who you are."

I had figured out a plan of action. Obviously, Aisling knew this would happen at some point. I was willing to guess that she had thought my background and ignorance would've reared their head after I had signed the document binding Evgenia to me. If that was what she wanted, that was what she wanted. What a mess. I took the pen, signed my name on the paper, pricked my finger with the knife, and placed my fingerprint beneath my name.

"Alright, Evgenia, my first instruction is to stop being quite so formal around me. I'm no dignitary, no foreign representative, just a guy in way over his head. You will call me James. If we are around the court or some other official place and it is customary to be formal, feel free to do so. Just not in private."

She swallowed hard, and her wide eyes lingered on the document I had signed, coming to terms with the reality of her newfound unlimited servitude. "Yes, milo- James. Yes, James."

"Awesome. I am going to share my story with you now, but I want you to have extreme discretion about with whom you share this. Aisling is probably fine because she knows everything important already, but I don't know anyone else here. Do you understand?"

When she nodded in the affirmative, I told her my perception of the last 36 hours. A few times, Cynthia butted in to give a comment or correction from her more enlightened position, but essentially I rambled and wandered my way to the present. I left out the events in my room the previous night. I would bring that up with the magical advisor, not the legal one. Beth was pressing her body against me, not charges, after all. Eventually, I was finished. I asked, "Do you have any questions?"

Evgenia spoke slowly, "You awakened two days ago and are wearing an aura suppression device now?"

Wasn't yet two days. "Yeah, that's right."

She shivered in response. Cynthia surprised me by speaking, "I have a question of my own. Why did you sign that contract?" Her eyes burned into me, accusationally emphasizing her distaste for my action.

"Aisling set us up, somewhat, I think. If I don't sign it, I'm rejecting her gift and depriving myself of a local with a useful skillset sworn to absolute loyalty. If we stall and renegotiate, now she has more information about how I want to act and what I'll pick up on. She expected me to just sign it and ask questions later. Until I know more, I want to act how I'm predicted to, if only to not rock the boat. But Cynthia, please, I'm already freaking out about how I've modified Beth. Do you think I want to control another person? Sam already wants to kill me for that or something similar anyway."

Cynthia relinquished her accusations, accepting my argument: "No, I didn't think so. I didn't want you to sign it, but I trust you to be responsible from what I've seen. Please remember, James, that the line between a benevolent patriarch and a tyrannical despot is quite small. A loving, caring decision could push you into the latter category if done without the other party's consent."

I listened to the words Cynthia said and tried to internalize them. Frankly, I was terrified that I was already well beyond the line with Beth. I desperately needed to keep Cynthia in my good graces so that someone would help modulate my decisions.

Evgenia continued how she had initially planned, showing me more documents and having me sign things. A contract to remain in the northeast and respond to summons from Aisling "promptly" was the most interesting because it came with a payment of $8,000 a month, wired to the bank account I had already been provided. Millionaire overnight? Not quite, but I certainly wasn't going hungry, and the only requirement was to not wander off too far. I wondered if I was simply being placated with money, paid to be a docile subject. It wasn't objectionable to the beast in my head. He believed we deserved it.

Eventually, Sam returned to the living area. She looked much better but still shot death at me when she walked past the dining area to sit on the couch. When we had worked through the documents, Evgenia visibly relaxed in her seat. She was still tense, but not the mechanical automaton she had been.

"So, Evgenia, odd question, I guess: Are you under any other agreements like the one with me? Do you need to report anything about our interactions to anyone?"

She shook her head. "No. I had a similar arrangement with Aisling for the last 20 years, but she released me from it. She asked me to contact her if I felt endangered by our relationship."

"Well, that makes me a little more comfortable about this." I could grandstand about how I wouldn't abuse the power dynamic in our relationship, but words were borderline meaningless for now. "So, Aisling told me that it would be useful to interact with Antonin, the archivist. Can you make that connection?"

Evgenia sat up and returned to her professional mechanical demeanor. "I was informed that you have an appointment for two this afternoon. Aisling requested that you bring 'the armored girl.’ That would be Beth, I presume?"

Plans were made for the rest of the day. Beth, Evgenia, and I would go to the archives to meet with Antonin. Sam and Cynthia would go shopping for things we needed for the apartment and some ingredients to cook for the coming week. Beth squealed in joy when Cynthia agreed that she could help cook, completely shattering my perceptions of her momentarily, until she shook her behind and winked at me while setting up with Cynthia.

I asked Evgenia what her living arrangements were. Sheepishly, she admitted that she had only returned to Philadelphia yesterday, having been in New York as Aisling’s legal point of contact there, and only had a hotel room for the rest of the week. I invited her to stay in our apartment, and after some cajoling from the other girls, she accepted. It was far too soon to randomly ask people to live with me, but I felt pressured to do it so that Cynthia only had to go shopping once. We had the space and now, as far as the contract stated, I owned her. Offering residence only made sense.

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The next hour passed amicably as the women got to know each other superficially. A tentative roster was made for morning shower allocation, basic chores, and cooking duties. I stayed quiet and out of the discussion. I was abstaining under the guise of clearing my mind to be fresh for my meeting with Antonin — and everyone else let my mild mistruth remain unchallenged. We all knew I would simply accept whatever they decided anyways. The dragon inside me insisted that we would do our utmost to care for our new lair, even if it was temporary, on the principle that it was ours. I didn’t voice his assertion.

My new vampire PA spent most of the conversation watching our interactions, largely remaining quiet as well. She answered questions if asked, but otherwise avoided inserting herself. Sam seemed as though she wanted to remain reserved, resisting every attempt to include her and then acting put-out when her mother cajoled her into giving her opinions. Eventually, Evgenia said that it was time for us to get going to our meeting. I took one of the apartment keys, and Sam took the other without acknowledging me. Our groups separated, with Sam and Cynthia taking Cynthia's SUV and the three of us taking a taxi.

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We arrived at a pillared marble building a few minutes later. I was reminded of a courthouse and then felt that it should've been obvious that an archivist might have some connection to legal procedures and recordings. We entered the building, and Evgenia spoke with the attendant for a moment. We were directed up a flight of stairs, down a hallway, and through a set of great wooden double doors. Beth clung to me the entire way, but she was giddy and content rather than the desperate and terrified clinginess of the previous day.

Through the doors, we found a massive library. Bookcases lined the walls and filled the majority of the room, reaching a dozen feet high. The room smelled musty and ancient and was utterly deserted. The silence was oppressive, but it was broken by the door shutting behind us as we came through — and then several echoes of the door shutting.

Evgenia herded us to a reading table in the center of the room. She sat, so Beth and I did as well, with Beth giving me a touch more space than I had come to expect. She was still leaning on me and holding my hand, but I didn't feel like she was trying to climb into my lap.

I quietly asked Evgenia, "So this Archivist, Antonin? Are you familiar with him?" Even though we appeared to be the only ones in the room, I was compelled to be quiet in the massive library.

She shook her head, "I know of him. He's an ancient elf who wants to be left alone in his research. I've been told he prefers the company of his scrolls and parchment to interacting with others."

"Cool. And we're interrupting him so he can talk to me on a day's notice. There's no way this will go poorly."

With that, the door clanged shut again. Both Evgenia and my eyes snapped to the entrance, and a withered and weathered man was there. His skin was a dark grey, and its worn and creased nature made it look like wet concrete. His hair was white, wispy, and unkempt. The things that caught the majority of my attention were his eyes. They were grey and hazy, and he seemed to have no iris or pupil. His entire eye was the same mottled grey with no distinctions.

"I am here, drakeling, because you are the most interesting thing I have had the opportunity to study in the last 300 years."

Evgenia and I were both startled for a moment, but she recovered, stood, and spoke, "Archivist Antonin. It's an honor. May I present-"

The old dark elf hobbled gingerly over to the table where we were sitting. "I know who he is, and I know why he's here," he snapped cooly.

The vampire beside me seemed insulted, and I thought I knew why. "She wasn't informed about me before being ordered to serve me."

The dark elf sat down and pulled a backpack onto the table while he answered without looking at me. "And why should she have been told anything? What would it have changed? I am here to tell you about what you are; I needed to be prepared to do that. She’ll get the information she needs to advise you now. I would hope you aren’t making any deals of import yet and therefore her ignorance is inconsequential. More for my own sake than yours. Woe betide those who wrong a dragon, even if it only is a wrong in his brain."

Well, he certainly had the charisma of a man who spent all day with books. He opened his bag and pulled out a fraying notebook and a few other hardcover books that looked like they would disintegrate into dust if I tried to manipulate them. He then retrieved a pen from his bag before raising his gaze to evaluate me. After a moment, he spoke.

"Alright then, drakeling. Tell me everything."

"Well, about ten thousand years ago, in Mesopotamia, humans began cultivating crops instead of collecting what was—"

He interrupted me, "Don't be obtuse, drakeling."

I pursed my lips and said, "Could you ask me something more specific than 'everything'?"

"Tell me everything that you've experienced since you've awoken. The incident on the twelfth, begin there."

That was something I could do, so I gave him roughly the same story I gave Evgenia this morning, but I included my experience with Beth and how she seemed to have been struck dead as we finished. Evgenia stared at me open-mouthed while I explained, probably in greater detail than necessary, fucking Beth to death. Thinking about being able to say that, now that I knew she was alright, was amusing. Terrifying, but amusing.

Beth seemed proud of the tale I spun of our encounter. It was an absurd experience, but I had questions about it and this was the elf who might have answers.

Surprisingly, the man I was told was more interested in books than the company of his peers was enraptured by my tale of relations with a woman. His interest was not the same as mine, but he nonetheless engaged in my story.

He spoke, and his scratchy voice filled the room over the sound of his pen scratching his notebook, "Alright, drakeling. That's quite the tale. Take off your ring. I have a more specialized one for you to replace it with once we’re done."

Evgenia blanched, and I pursed my lips in confusion instinctively.

She spoke first, "In the middle of the city? Surely you can feel him enough already. There's no reason for that."

He coldly addressed her, "Miss Blood Drinking Lawyer, I am the Archivist, and we are in the Archives. I am not placing any of us in unnecessary or extreme danger, or we would not be located in my sanctuary. Our Queen asked me to teach this man what he is, and I agreed to do so because I thought it would be an interesting experience. You can ask questions, but do not expect an answer unless I want to give it. If I give him a direct command, I expect him to follow it, and then I expect he will have questions. I will answer him if they are intelligent because I am here to teach him. Unless you believe I am committing a crime I will ask you not to interject your opinions on my decisions again," Antonin stated, ensuring no one could mistake that it was in no way a request.

I slipped my ring off. Evgenia shivered and smelled of fear. Conversely, Beth smiled and looked like a kitten soaking up sunlight in the morning. The old man sat back in his chair and relaxed for a moment.

"You are still split, yes? You feel him as a separate entity in your mind instead of as your thoughts? Ask him to come forth; I wish to talk with him."

Evgenia's eyes were the size of the world at that request. She was a professional and well used to being in situations where she wasn't permitted to speak freely, but this was the first time she wanted to shatter those instructions and scream at the old man about how flippant he was being.

I spoke on her behalf since the Archivist had intimated that interruptions from me would be better received, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise. Come on, drakeling, we haven't got all year for this."

I guess we were doing this. I sat back in the wooden chair, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes.

I projected my thoughts into my head, "Hey, are you around? There's an elf here who wants to interact with you instead of me."

The presence rushed forth, and I no longer felt anxious and uncomfortable. He was confident, self-assured, and certain of his abilities. That feeling spread throughout me. I knew these weren't my feelings, but that was fine since I would hand it control. He wanted clarification on what was being requested specifically. He didn’t want to argue and fight like the last time he had been asked to talk.

I reassured him, asserting that the elf wanted to talk to him. As long as he remained seated and listened to Antonin’s instructions, we wouldn’t have any problems.

With that, I felt the dragon take control, leaving me as a spectator in my own body. It felt a lot noticeably different from Friday night. Today, I felt like a flight instructor, sitting in the co-pilot seat of an aircraft watching a student pilot fly, but with live controls at my fingertips so that I could take over if anything went wrong outside the scope of the lesson. In contrast, on Friday I had felt like a passenger, or someone watching a video of a lesson without even a simulated set up.

Then I spoke. At least, my body began to. It didn't quite sound like me, but it was definitely coming from my mouth. It was my voice, but it didn't have my emotions or affectations, making it sound like a very skilled impressionist.

"Hello, drow. What do you require?"

"Hello, drake. Can you physically manifest?" Antonin responded.

"I have not attempted it with this body. The boy didn't ask for that."

The dark elf was writing in his notebook again, unimpressed with the response. "Of course, you haven't, drake. I want to know if you are capable of it yet. Give it a go."

I could see that Evgenia was contemplating resigning or retiring with each passing second if she was capable of thinking at all. She reminded me of Sam during our dinner with the Queen, frozen in place and unable to act.

"Be calm, blood drinker. I will not harm you," came from my mouth. That statement didn't help in the slightest, but Evgenia was now watching me with fear in her eyes instead of being fixated with distrust of the elf. With my statement still filling the room, I felt the strangest sensation I had ever experienced. I was reminded of washing a cut out with alcohol, the tingling and burning of my skin dominating the forefront of my perceptions. My entire upper back was burning more profoundly than an average cut, burn, or rash should. I was glad the dragon being was in charge of my body, as I imagined the sensation was muted by me being an observer. Nonetheless, it was excruciating.

I was also glad I had taken my jacket off when I sat down, leaving it hanging over the chair behind me. I felt my shirt stretch to its limits before tearing and ripping as my body began to change and meld into a new shape. My shoulders were growing, my back expanding, my torso elongating to support a new structure. It split completely, ripping across the chest and unraveling, and the remnants fell to the floor. I guess I wouldn't be wearing that again.

I could see that I had grown, as my view of the room differed from how it was just a moment ago. I had never been short, having been comfortably over 6', but now I was perhaps 4" taller. My body had grown in other ways, as I was probably fifty pounds heavier now. A good amount of that came from simply being taller, but I had unmistakably gained a tremendous amount of muscle mass relative to my previous proportions.

My mouth felt different. My jaw was more prominent, and I felt my tongue moving over my teeth, and then it moved to a second row of teeth outside the first. They were narrower than human teeth, with sharp points and rear edges, and I realized they were all designed for cutting through my prey. I did not need molars, as I didn't need to grind grains or vegetables. I was the predator. They were my food. I felt a burst of pride from the voice in my head as I concluded something he knew intimately. He wanted me to be used to them so that we could go out and use them.

I was still taking in my larger size when I felt something rubbing my back. I looked, and Evgenia had reached out to touch me. Except, she wasn't touching my back. She was touching my bright red, scaled wing. She was still scared, but now she was curious.

Huh.

I had a wing now. Yup, there was a second one on the other side.

The sensations continued. Whereas before, the burning was limited to my upper back, it now traveled through my limbs and down my spine.

However, the Archivist spoke up and interrupted the process, "That's good for now, drake. Keep this form stable and give me back the boy."

The burning sensation stopped immediately and the controls to my body were thrust back into my metaphorical hands.

Evgenia regarded me with a mix of absolute terror and complete awe. Beth was projecting childlike curiosity and wonder, with a touch of arousal flavoring her emotions. Both women instinctively reached out and touched one of my wings, their fingers sliding against my smooth scales.

Evgenia regained her sensibilities first. She blushed, pulled her hand back, and then said, "Sorry, I just... I know you told me everything this morning, and it added up. I just figured it was an elaborate cover for the truth I wasn't supposed to know. It being the truth is even crazier." Beth said nothing, continuing to touch my new wings as if breaking contact would cause them to disappear.

Antonin interrupted Evgenia, "Yes, the drakeling is what he says. How touching? Tell me, drakeling, how do you feel? Can you move your new pair of wings?"

I wiggled my wings and then stretched them as far out as they could go. They went out twice as far as my arms would reach. I wrapped my left one around Evgenia, and she settled into it. For some reason, a massive, scaled wing from an apex predator who owned her soul and whom she had only met in the hours before made her more comfortable. I wish I understood the world I was in.

I wrapped the right one around Beth, and she let it swaddle her with uncertainty. She wasn't uncomfortable with the wing inherently, merely undecided as to whether this was an upgrade over my arms holding her. I could completely encircle her with the wing, but she didn't feel quite the same connection to my scales as she did to my skin. I could feel her deciding that it was tolerably acceptable through our link, not preferable but also not bad. A splash of arousal tainted her thoughts and I stopped paying attention to our binding in a hurry.

I answered the curt old elf, "I suppose I feel physically fine. Kinda wish I still had my shirt, though. That was the first time I had worn it."

Antonin responded slowly, "That is good, drakeling. If you can shift, you can make others think you know more than you do. They might not know you are a completely ignorant untrained child."

Beth bristled at that comment. Amusingly, the beast he had sent away agreed with him. She started to respond, but I put my arm on hers and said, "It's not an insult. It was a statement of fact. Yeah, he has no bedside manner, but it's his task to address what he said."

The old Archivist nodded and continued taking notes while he spoke, "Indeed, drakeling. Now, let's get some of your ignorance resolved. You are a dragon. You are only partially attuned to your beast soul, and right now, you are partially physically transformed. Shortly, you will merge with him. You will grow physically and mentally into the apex predator that you are.

"Dragons are considered mysterious, withdrawn, aloof, and confusing creatures. Those who don't bother to try to understand them have labeled them avaricious, capricious, malevolent tyrants and twisted the public discourse surrounding your kind. You will find many resistant to your suggestions because they perceive you as an omnipotent, omniscient destructive force they must oppose before giving you a chance to be an individual in their minds.

"Part of this is because of how few of you are in the world. Almost everyone you interact with will have never met a dragon unless they are also ancient. I lived in central Europe long ago, and there was a surviving community of drakes there. I may be the only one in this country who has had significant dealings with your kind. Aisling retains me here for my knowledge and perception, so, drakeling, let me tell you about what you are, as I am the only one who can.

"You are immortal. Not invulnerable; A sword or a firearm can kill your human body just as quickly as it would last month. However, you will likely recover unless you are severely injured and killed outright. I once saw a dragon take a cannon blast to his shoulder, removing his wing and arm. He gave a speech at a noble's dance two days later and retired from the night with two women he courted there. He was a good man, for an entirely uncontrollable force of nature and serial womanizer. One of his sons killed him by decapitation two decades later. The world was a much harsher place then.

"So, short of decapitation or crushing a plurality of your bones into paste, you will likely recover. You are practically immune to sickness and will not experience any symptoms of typical human diseases. You are incredibly resistant to magical plagues and hexes as well. Particularly nasty individually targeted curses will stick, but they are incredibly costly, and the knowledge of how to tailor them to you is definitely obscure and potentially lost altogether. I cherish the thought of that dark sorcery being destroyed.

"Your magical reserves are contained within your bones. The aches you felt recently were likely because you were overflowing with energy and leaking out. Anyone with any education will know this. Unscrupulous agents in our communities desire dragon bones for themselves. Even after you are deceased, a preserved dragon bone will contain energy more efficiently than any other conduit we can use. With your natural recovery, you could profit from electing to remove some of your bones.

"It is believed that dragons generate energy by siphoning it from being near material wealth, somehow siphoning mana from collections of treasure. I'm not sure that I reside in that camp, and I will be investigating the accuracy of that hypothesis with you in the coming months. Regardless, remaining near great displays of wealth has been a commonality among your predecessors, and the least of them was a great resource of their own. I recommend acquiring some soon so we can experiment with this rumor.

"Dragons are, unfortunately, inherently disposed to being poor enchanters or divines. Many commonplace usages for magic in our modern world require precision, specific intent, decades of practice, and routine banal memorization. A hurricane functions poorly as an irrigation system, and a volcanic eruption makes for an inferior home heating device. Primal animals make for poor apprentices. You will be exceptional at dealing with mana in the abstract, pure forms, handling vast quantities of it with ease, but doing anything precise, anything that requires instruction rather than intuition, will be a challenge.

"For other races, particularly humans, drawing mana and shaping it simultaneously is challenging. This is where you will find yourself a role in polite society. You are an overflowing well of energy that others will be willing to die for a glimpse of access. In a week with you, a clever electromancer could power the city's energy needs for a decade.

"Historically, dragons have not regularly integrated into polite society particularly willingly. They have been significant figures, but they were heralds of immediate death and destruction for those who opposed them. You will make a wonderful evoker — the absolute magnitude of your reserves and the instinctual desire to hunt and dominate those beneath you will allow you to be an awesome deity of annihilation. Unlike most other magical applications, evocation relies much more on intent and raw power than careful and elaborate revision.

"Of course, as a human, you will find this uncomfortable. Your soft sensibilities and societal training have discouraged any inclination toward violence. I would encourage you to consider this concept: the United States is currently an undeniable world power, at the top of the food chain for human nations, with much of its political influence stemming from its military strength.

"With their position unchallengeable currently, the hierarchy is stable. There are minor breaches of the peace, definitely. Still, there is no worldwide encompassing machine of destruction as a dozen similar powers argue over their positions like there was in the twentieth century. Unflinching in their superiority, a single imposing figure makes everything peaceful via stability. This could be your position if you wish it to be. Leave others to argue over the morality — you are unsuited to that discussion.

"Of course, this path will make the other leaders nervous. Aisling might see it as treasonous. Other leaders might encourage you, hoping you destabilize this region, or they might discourage you because hindering you keeps you conveniently limited in your position here. Who can know? Aisling lets me play with my interests here, so I've withdrawn from the courts' tiresome cloak-and-dagger life. Evgenia will have to advise you on those decisions.

"Now that you have demonstrated your ability to shift forms, let us talk about your dragon physiology. The obvious, claws and teeth and wings, are dull and self-explanatory. When you shift, your vision will be much improved. Your sense of smell will be incredibly enhanced to the point of incomprehensibility for humans. As you have noticed, some of this carries over to your mundane human shape.

"Your canine teeth can inject chemicals of your choice when you bite. Your body has two that I can identify. The first one is a highly addictive aphrodisiac, and lovers would sell their firstborn's soul to experience it again if you give it to them once and then withhold it. Do not use it fleetingly. It also induces fertility in many species, humans and demi-humans alike.

"The second chemical individually does nothing. When mixed with the first one, it is modified into being a potent neurotoxin in most species. In humans without warding, a complete bite and injection cause total body paralysis within 15 seconds, consciousness is lost in the victim within 45 seconds, and death within two minutes. The aphrodisiac is still effective, so the victim will experience an incredibly erotic final few breaths. According to several spirits I have questioned, dying from a dragon's bite was the most enjoyable experience they had ever had. One exceptionally randy ghost complained about his lack of a physical form, as he had become obsessed with experiencing death from a dragon’s bite again.

"Your tears are conduits to emotions. Several rituals utilize dragons' tears to create permanent replications of memories and emotions. Incredibly useful in legal proceedings. These rituals haven't been performed here in forty years. There was simply no supply remaining that anyone was willing to part with at any cost. If you find yourself weeping, consider storing the tears if at all possible.

"Your blood, when given freely, is one of the most powerful binding agents available to us. Not physically. As a mundane, you've probably heard stories about how magic contracts are eternal and unbreaking, yes? Your blood is why. Agreements sealed with it are simply unable to be breached.

"Your saliva is a great recovery stimulant. With this, you can share your incredible durability with those around you. This is another reason dragons seldom pursue magical healing — simply licking a non-fatal wound will begin repairing and sealing it. As far as I know, it also neutralizes toxins.

"If someone else ingests your saliva, it will begin repairing non-traumatic injuries they have. Replacing scars with fresh skin, skin blemishes, and imperfections, repairing eyesight or decaying teeth. Regular ingestion can help with mental and emotional scarring, repair broken bones from times past, remove allergies, or correct chronic illnesses."

Someone else made a noise for the first time since Antonin began his monologue. Beth inhaled sharply and then immediately slapped her hand to cover her mouth, attempting to reclaim her gasp. Antonin looked at her and waited for an explanation for the interruption.

Beth spoke, "I'm sorry, sir. I just, I've needed glasses since I was a girl. Not a lot, my vision isn't really that bad, but I probably should wear them. They're kinda expensive, so I haven't had an eye test or a new pair since I was a kid." Antonin smirked because, obviously, Beth still was a child in his eyes. She continued, "When I woke up this morning, everything was sharp." She turned to me and hugged me, "Kissing you fixed my eyes. Have I mentioned I love you?"

Antonin took a moment, flipped a few pages, cleared his throat, and continued his distribution of knowledge. "As you age, your scales in your dragon form will become so durable that they are functionally impenetrable to mundane weapons. You will shed them like many animals shed their skin. I would encourage you to collect the largely undamaged ones. The dwarven craftsmen of the Realm would love access to them as a crafting material once again. You may have heard scientists inexplicably say that they had lost the technology to travel to the moon since the 70s — the original shielding for manned space flights outside Earth’s magnetic influence contained a composite of dragon scales, among other things from our world.

"When you approach your second century, you will begin to be able to breathe fire like in the stories. Your eyes will be able to compel unwarded individuals, and you will be able to influence the emotions of those around you by manipulating your pheromones. We have much to teach you before those are possibilities.

"Do you have any questions about what I've said so far? Any of you, I suppose." He sounded indifferent. Answering our curiosities was something he accepted in exchange for interacting with a dragon. He wouldn't be enthusiastic about it, but it was a fair trade.

I did have a question, "So, how did I generate any of that energy to cause my pains? I've never been near any real repositories of wealth. And then, I used a lot of it to do something to Beth, right? That's why I don't feel like that anymore?"

Antonin nodded, "The latter question, indeed. Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for the former. I know that dragons have unparalleled dominance over magical energies — that much isn’t in dispute. The rumors and speculation on accumulation aren't consistent with the reality I've experienced. Still, many sources are unreliable, as they weren't Dragons, and many weren't even in direct contact with a Dragon.

"Let me explain my experiences with the common factors between the handful of dragons I've met. The avarice that many speak of is misconstrued. The few I interacted with have been sure to demand equal and balanced exchanges. Leaders unused to their manipulations and schemes not bearing fruit complain to their advisors and assistants. They feed the rumor that dragons are dogged and unscrupulous negotiators because of impartial, incomplete information.

"This extends beyond actual financial transactions. I bet you feel uncomfortable when talking with those you don't know. It's an imbalanced exchange of information. You seek compensation for your offerings. I am willing to bet that you were bothered by sharing with me when you first came here, but now you would be comfortable discussing more."

I nodded as the elder elf described precisely how I had felt.

"Unfortunately, my time is limited, and I am required to be elsewhere now. I'll leave you with this: I believe the girl is bonded with you. You caused your dragon to claim her as your familiar in a particularly unique manner. She is connected with you, and this bond will grow should you encourage it. Part of your soul is hers. Part of her soul is yours. I am unable to see her by observing her directly, but when I observe you, I see an echo of her. An impression of her inside you. If you continue pursuing your relationship, you will continue beyond sharing emotions with her and into full thoughts and, eventually, complete telepathy. It is a thing that many romantics chase tirelessly. There isn't a recorded instance of a drake doing this. After all, what could she offer to balance with your side? How could she placate your predator's instincts?

“Even among other races, this kind of relationship is exceedingly rare. The instances of similar connections I know of in this city are exclusively unidirectional. Several vampire lords have taken pieces of mundane souls, forcing their servants' obedience and docility. They feed on these mundanes but offer some level of protection from others. Make no mistake, it is not a benevolent transaction; the vampires are claiming ownership of these otherwise helpless humans. You have, in some way, made yourself both her owner and her possession.

"Now, drakeling, you need training, and I am tired of talking. We will meet here Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at two in the afternoon. Bring me a coffee, black, tomorrow. Do you have any immediate questions or concerns from my instructions today?"

I had a lot to take in and had yet to digest his words. I answered Antonin anyway, "I don't think so. I'm not in immediate danger?" He shook his head. "And there will be more practical lessons in the future?"

He began placing the other books he had brought back into his backpack, "Yes, drakeling. You need to be taught how to do things. In fact, I spoke too soon. We shall have our first functional lesson now because it needs to be done eventually, and you are eager to do it. Without calling your beast back or giving him control, I want you to shift back to your human shape."

"Can you offer me any more guidance than that? I don't know how to do that."

The Archivist shrugged, saying, "I'm not a shapeshifter. Try relaxing and focusing on being yourself, the human boy, instead of the devouring drake. Otherwise, you’ll have to ask it."

I laughed petulantly. "Relax and focus. Classic."

I tried it anyway. I closed my eyes and breathed for a few moments. I felt my back grow itchy, and then I shivered and realized I was back to normal. Or, well, not quite normal. I was still taller and more muscular than I had been when I entered the room. I no longer had wings, and even though my teeth had returned to normal, they still felt wrong. As I ran my tongue over them, I realized that all of their slight imperfections had been repaired. They were perfectly aligned, and the minute chip in my front tooth from a high school gym class incident was completely restored. They were flawless now, but it still felt wrong as I was accustomed to the imperfections I had before.

My pants and shoes barely fit me. They had fit just a handful of hours ago, and now they were painfully stretched to their limits. The identical ones in the closet would be wasted. Hopefully, someone else could use them.

Antonin handed me a new ring to replace Cynthia's and collected his notebook and assorted papers. As he was walking away from the table, he said, "Be wary who you tell any of this to, drakeling. Some will try to kill you if they know; Some will try to kill you if they don't."

"Archivist, might I ask you another question today? About Beth and me, not exactly about being a dragon."

"If you'll carry this bag back to the office with me. I do have places I need to be. Your arrival wasn’t planned."

The three of us stood up and moved to the dark elf. I took his bag, and Evgenia opened the door. Beth held my other hand. On my way to exit the library with the Archivist, I stumbled. I felt absolutely drained mentally, and my muscles hurt like I had just completed an intense workout.

I asked the one question I had from this morning, "Is there any way to undo my connection to Beth?" She tensed up, and I could smell her anxiety. She held her breath while waiting for a response.

He waited a moment, expecting me to say something more. When nothing else was forthcoming, he started laughing.

"Drakeling, did you hear what I said? You have her soul in you, and she has yours. Yes, you can undo it. Kill her."

The beast I shared my body with exploded in fury at the thought of harm to her. I remained in control still, but he was just a hair below the surface, and he was absolutely screaming to be let out and silence this worm that was threatening one of our mates. I shouted him down internally — the old man was giving us information, not threats. He wasn’t actually saying we should harm Beth.

The old elf in question spoke again, "You are just as enraptured with her as she is with you. That is good for her. The whole city probably just shivered when I said that to you, and they'll spend the next week trying to figure out why without a forthcoming answer. That amuses me greatly, but I don’t want a headache from Aisling so I will ask that you actually put that ring on.."

"Yeah, the beast was really displeased to hear that. If I can't undo it, not that either of us really wanted that, is there a way to make sure I don't do it again to anyone else?"

For the first time since I had met him, Antonin's demeanor changed. He was no longer a haughty, dauntless, borderline arrogant senior with the answers to everything anyone wanted from him. In that moment, he became a small, frail old man, aware that he was dealing with something much more significant than himself. His now deathly serious voice answered me, "Drakeling, I know not how you could do it in the first place. There are several ways of achieving the familiar bond; All are old fae ceremonies of obligation and servitude, and are singular in direction. It should have required a ritual where the girl agreed to give herself to you. If I couldn't see the two of you here, smell your fingerprints all over her, and only see her reflection in your mana, I would've laughed whoever told me about it out of town. It is unbelievable. I don't know how you did, and I hope against all reason that I never will because that would mean it will have only happened once, and we cannot study it further." Evidently, even the most experienced and observant scholar needed answers to the questions I was desperately asking. What a mess I had found myself entrenched in.

His slow, measured cadence meant that we were standing outside his office when he concluded. His cocksure, certain affectation gradually returned, and he took his things from me and reminded me not to forget the coffee when we came back tomorrow for a properly scheduled lesson.

After depositing the books with Antonin in his office, the three of us left the building and hailed a cab to return home. Evgenia relayed a text message from Cynthia that they were still picking up a few things and that they would be bringing home food. I was paying. That was fine with me — and anyway, I didn’t have the energy to argue.