"Do you still have the quest?" Penelope asked as softly as a dragon could. "I'm talking to you, Trav."

Tuning his voice down to Penelope only, Travis said, "R-Right. It's still there as a bonus quest. I don't know if it will go away when Stewart leaves or not, but at least it isn't taking up a quest slot."

"With all these straps and saddles, I don't know if I could do the job even if I wanted to. Is he secure up there?"

"As long as he doesn't unbuckle anything, he should be f—"

"Wait," Stewart said, as he felt Penelope's muscles bunch under him. Elanor had given him a thumbs-up, and it had reminded him of something important. "Dungeon Travis?"

Surprised a little by the request, Travis tuned his voice to the whole group in the courtyard and asked, "Yes?"

"Now Lady Elanor is her own woman, supported in no small part by yourself. I consider you to be the person I must address." Clearing his throat, not caring who was listening, Stewart said, "I intend to pursue Lady Elanor. Do I have your approval?"

Travis, thankfully, could turn his laughter inward. It was insane for his modern-attuned mind to think of someone asking for approval to court a woman, let alone ask him. "Felna! I need your help."

While Stewart waited there, Travis explained his idea to Felna who was, thankfully, in the crowd to send her kitten off. She strode forward, eyes fixed on Stewart and not looking away. "You intend to chase my kitten's tail?"

The courtyard quieted; Felna's words seeming to echo before leaving Stewart sitting in silence he needed to fill. "I would pursue her hand in marriage, but I wish her family's approval."

"You are a good man, or so I have heard. You can provide for her, care for her, and put her above all others to stand at your side?" Keeping her tail from twitching too fast wasn't easy, but Felna was good at self-control. She held Stewart's eyes with her own, daring him to speak out of turn.

The whole situation felt detached from reality, but though Stewart had many things coming against him in the near future, this was one subject he was sure of. "I would have her as my queen-consort, if she would put up with me."

"Then Travis and I are in agreement." Felna let him wait while she flicked her gaze to Elanor. "Kitten, if you want him, you best bare your claws for him." Fixing Stewart with her eyes again, Felna said, "You have our approval. Good luck with your journey."

"Thank you," Elanor mouthed the words while looking at Felna. She hung low over the wyvern's neck in preparation for takeoff.

Travis couldn't help telling her, "Keep him safe," as Penelope and Ripper took off into the sky above Northridge. After they circled a few times to gain altitude and flew off to the south, he turned his attention to the crowd who were starting to disperse. "Brolly, I think I have solved one of your problems."

"Which one?" Brolly asked, more curious than worried. So far as he'd experienced, Travis had been nothing but positive in his assistance.

"The fort around Breeze's outside entrance, in the clearing to the south-east? I have a band of soldiers who would like to call it their home." It amused Travis a little that the army had tried so hard to breach that fort's walls—and failed. Now Hilda would have it as her home.

"Are you going to open an entrance there yourself?"

"No. Fife and Breath of Spring are talking with the northerners now, and they seem to be at least somewhat comfortable with Breeze. I admit, it's a little odd, but that is a good spot for them to be out of the way."

Thinking about it, Brolly concurred. "It gives them some independence and relieves us of needing to keep it manned. Go ahead with it. I'll arrange for an official handover ceremony."

That was one piece of business sorted for Travis. He had a lot of plans for new training dungeons, and hadn't had anyone who could protect diggers. With Fife and the wolves back, he decided it was time to correct that.

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The few flights around Northridge that Elanor had taken were, she realized, rather tame. Penelope flew high enough to keep from casual sight and hopefully ballista range, and Ripper had done the same. The most notable thing was that flying higher was cold.

Pulling her duster around her as tight as she could, she thought back to the little spectacle that had happened moments before they'd left. Stewart asking to pursue her, Travis and Felna acting as her parents, and the agreement— She felt warmth blossom inside at the idea of it.

It took her a moment to realize the heat wasn't figurative. Sighing happily, wrapped in Sandwalker's aura, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Ripper's neck, sharing her gift with her friend. She wished she could have brought her other friends, but even Snipsnap would add to Ripper's load.

Far Reach, when it felt a mighty invader soar above its walls, grew panicked with fear. The beast was mighty, and without an avatar of its own, it could not fight the dragon directly. But, something changed. The huge creature landed in the city center, heedless of soldiers rushing there, it lowered its neck and—along with a smaller member of its kind that the city now realized it had felt before—disgorged the King and the kingdom's avatar to the cobbled streets.

Elanor knelt, reaching to the cobblestones with her right palm. "Please be calm. Northridge has sent allies with us to speed the King to his throne." She had felt the trepidation within Far Reach and shared with it the warmth and honor she felt toward Travis. "She is from a dungeon, but a dungeon that has defended Northridge and seeks to strengthen the kingdom."

Stewart had no specific connection to Far Reach, but through his bond with the kingdom he could feel it worrying at having a dragon land within its walls. "She speaks the truth. Northridge has welcomed two dungeons into its walls into a council not unlike its noble leadership."

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For Penelope, it seemed almost like a mystical ritual. She had felt the will of the city against her, struggling to force her to leave—and then the pressure stopped. Not knowing if the city would hear her, she said, "Thank you for trusting me." She wasn't sure it was trust in her, but the city was calm, they'd already spent a half day flying, and she knew her riders needed a rest.

Riders.

It was a word Penelope had hoped to not become part of her life, but here she was with a riding harness. She lifted her head up and looked around. The city guards still looked wary, but seemed willing to defer to Stewart. Remembering the layout of the city, even from over a year ago, took a moment. Thanks to Penelope's life spent delving into dungeons as a rogue, she had an uncanny knack for direction. "Well, if I've got to wear a saddle, I am going to get it taken care of."

When the master of the city's stables saw a dragon marching down the street toward his pride and joy (the stables themselves), he froze in his tracks. Stuck in that state, unable to figure out if he should scream in terror or run, he noticed details. The dragon wore some kind of harness with a pair of saddles on it, for one.

"Can you help with these straps?" Penelope asked. "I think one is rubbing when I fly, and it might tear before my scales do." When the man continued to stare at her, Penelope turned a little further, showing where she suspected the straps were rubbing.

Blinking away his shock, the stable master reached out to inspect one of the nemeses of his craft. There was only one way to fight this particular dragon and win, and that was with a sword of practicality. "This leather is rubbing. Do you need this support here to stay on— Uh, I mean, do your—your riders need this strap in place? I am unfamiliar with dragon riding harnesses."

"It was a rush job, but I trust the craftsman who made it to know what was needed, but he didn't have any time to test this. Can you make it last for a few days' flight?"

"Flight…" The man had to mentally slap himself back to practicality. "The strap will need reinforcing and you will need padding added here, and probably on the other side, to prevent more rubbing."

"We're not planned to stay long. Can you get it done by morning?" Penelope had been surprised the man had stood his ground. What she wasn't surprised by was that several of the guards had followed her and watched her from a distance even now. Behind them, children streamed into the street, peeking from behind walls and soldier’s legs.

"I can't replace the strap. I can sew another onto it and fit some pads on each side. They won't last long, but they should get you— How much flying did this?"

"Maybe three hours."

Whistling, the stable master made his decision. "Then I best get started. Let me first check the other side." He'd intended to walk around Penelope, but instead she moved and reminded him that not only was she very large but also had been the one talking to him about the tack. "There is a little rubbing, but not as bad. This strap—with a little work—will survive the trip."

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Far Reach had been interested to hear of Northridge having multiple nobles leading it. With only a few words, it managed to coax Elanor to speak more of it. Hearing that the nobles weren't even noble at first, but were merchants, crafters, and a guardsman inspired it, but it still wanted a noble—it deserved a noble.

But, it also liked the idea of having others, raised to nobility or not, that could be its champions and allow it to reach through them. By the time Elanor, the King, and the monsters were making ready to leave, Far Reach had made up its mind.

The mortals that lived in and around cities came in many flavors, but Far Reach had discovered that few had the head for politics or the arm for soldiery. Thus, it had decided that if there was a canny, smart scion and a brave, martial scion among those coming from the south, it would take both.

The train pulled in less than an hour after Elanor had left Far Reach with these new ideas. It knew the three nobles the moment they stepped off the train—formally onto the grounds of Far Reach itself.

Groaning, one of the three (dressed in fine lady attire of a large dress that was the height of fashion) sighed and gestured toward Far Reach as a whole. "I can't believe we had to come here. What was wrong with staying in Hearthhome?"

Rounding on her cousin, the second woman of the group (dressed in far more conservative trousers, shirt, and carrying a rapier at her side) smacked her own forehead. "Rachelle, you heard Aunt Judy. We're here because the city is going to choose a new leader, and the Prince himself promised it to one of our kin. If you don't want to be here, get back on the train and head back now." What she hated about talking to the first woman was how she managed to feel short.

The third noble shook his head. "Casey, relax. The people here aren't going to want another empty-headed brat. I don't know why I'm here, but I guess I might be useful for hauling heavy things around." It was an old argument with his sister. She was head and shoulders above him when it came to numbers and politics, but for physical prowess he (like most people) could look down on her. He took the punch she threw him without so much as twitching.

"You are both degenerates. Your brother has worn a dress more than you have, Casey." Sneering at the dirty cobblestones, Rachelle gestured to her two trunks of clothing. "Well, Cousin Brandon, you said something about lifting heavy things?"

Surveying the luggage, Brandon smiled at the sight of his and Casey's personal belongings. Striding over to them, he picked up his own chest on one shoulder and his sister's on the other, and nodded to Rachelle's. "I appear to be fully loaded, Cousin, perhaps you could carry your own?" The truth was his trunk was full of armor, while Casey's had her writing equipment. Both being not insubstantial, he was straining a little—but it was worth it to see Rachelle turn a very odd shade of purple.

As she walked from the train station to the keep, that she could see above the buildings every now and again, Casey could feel a force guiding her. When she took a glance at her brother, he too looked straight ahead with something holding his attention. Behind her, all she had letting her know that Rachelle was still there was a constant stream of complaints.

Barely able to notice his sister, and completely ignorant of Rachelle, Brandon could feel something calling to him. His arm felt warm, hot even, as they walked the final block with the gate of the keep in sight, and the weight of the trunks barely even noticeable. The only way he knew Casey was still there was that she seemed to radiate some kind of heat, too.

The usual weird feeling she had regarding the siblings seemed amplified, and the feeling of change in them shook Rachelle. Neither were smart as she thought of it, and both were terrible at behaving correctly in public—but now there was something arcane and supernatural about them. When she saw them walking toward the front gate of the keep, a barrier seemed to come into being, at least in her own mind. She wanted to follow them, to deliver more barbs and subtle critiques of their persons, but she couldn't take another step forward.

Shifting her heel, Rachelle found herself able to retreat from the strange wall. "Ugh, I don't give a crap about this anyway. Bring my things back to the train!" she ordered the two guards who'd been stupid enough to do her bidding.

Far Reach liked the siblings. They were exactly what it had wanted for its new leaders, though it still wanted a craftsman and a merchant. But, first, it needed to invest its two chosen avatars with its power.

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