They’re… footprints. But not just ordinary footprints.

They’re immense.

In front of us to our right, the pond we’d smelled wafting in the breeze. Reeds and other tall grasses surround the shore, and there’s a clearing where one can get right up to the edge of the water. It seems like this would be a popular spot for ferals to relax on a warm day like this one.

But this, these gargantuan footprints near the pond… are not the footprints of any feral I’m familiar with. They cover the whole of the clearing, depressed slightly into the soft ground. I estimate their size to be so massive that I could stand directly inside a single one of them.

What’s more, the ground near the pond is littered with innumerable small tree branches and leaves. As I peer around the clearing, I see a great chasm in the row of trees to our left — a void where what would normally be tree growth is instead a gnarled mess of branches and twigs, sticks and leaves, ejected outwards as if a great force moved through it.

Just what on Jade occurred here? What feral could cause this?!

“Goddess above…” breathes Roland, no louder than a whisper.

“C-commander…” stutters LaRoche, a Pine Marten who’s approached from the rear of the group to get a better look at the scene.

These officers are young and inexperienced, things are going to get out of hand fast unless I take the initiative. I push my worrying thoughts aside and allow my training and experience to dictate me.

“Alright, everyone stay calm,” I say, holding my voice steady. “We need to try to assess what’s happened here. Bryant, keep your wits about you and survey the vicinity around the pond. If you spot whatever caused all this, I want you back here immediately.”

“Yes, sir!” says Bryant, tearing her rapier from its scabbard. I’m not sure a sword would be effective against the feral that passed through here, but her bravery is admirable.

I turn to see the two Marten officers to my left. “LaRoche, Harper, see how far that hole in the tree line goes. I don’t want any surprises coming out of it.”

“R-right!” says LaRoche. She turns to Harper, and they nod in unison.

“Roland,” I say, turning to the Sifaka. “You’re with me. Let’s try to determine if the Princess passed through here before or after this scene happened.”

Roland acknowledges with a nod, trying to keep their face straight. Bryant marches off to survey the pond, while LaRoche and Harper make their way along the edge of the grass, purposefully avoiding the areas with footprints.

This is an unparalleled discovery, whatever we’ve found here. But our priority must be the Princess and her safety. Whether she passed by the pond before or after this feral moved through it will determine what our next steps should be. Once we find her…

…

…If we find her.

A terror grows in my heart on the realization of just how dangerous this situation has become. Until now, I’ve assumed that it would simply be a matter of time before we caught up with the group. Bodie and Laurent are fine officers, and Calypso, well… Calypso is arguably the greatest knight our Kingdom has to offer. I’d assumed there was nothing in the weald that their group couldn’t handle. Why wouldn’t I?

But now the calculus is changed completely. A creature with prints as big as these, one that could cause incredible destruction to the environment. Could Calypso truly harm a feral that big? Could anyone?

I must now consider the possibility that this… this monster, could have encountered the Princess’s group. If such an unfathomable encounter occurred, then their safety would no longer be guaranteed.

Anxiety washes over me like heat. The Princess, my husband, they’re in mortal danger.

“Sir, are you alright?” Roland’s candid question takes me by surprise.

I… I must keep control of my own emotions; they’re beginning to show through to the officers. Succumbing to panic is not conducive to finding the Princess.

I turn away from Roland. “…I’ll be fine. Let’s survey those prints,”

“Don’t worry, sir. We understand.”

Again, Roland’s words surprise me. So, the officers are aware.

It comforts me somewhat, knowing that. I don’t want to show it, but… stubbornly, I nod in response. Their face draws into a smile, satisfied by my answer.

We tread over grass up to our waists and approach the footprint in the ground closest to us. Its shape is unlike any feral I’m familiar with; the heel of the foot is rounded as I’d expect, but the toes are long and strangely shaped. Where I’d expect claws are only small points in the ground.

I crouch down next to it and stick my right hand inside. The print is depressed in the ground at least 5 inches, maybe more. Whatever passed through here was massive in size.

Still fixated on the ground, I sense Roland joining me by my side. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’m not sure what to make of it,” I tell them.

“Commander, you don’t think… this could be…” Roland trails off and their eyes flick away from me.

“A Dragon?” I ask, uttering the word they won’t dare speak.

Roland nods sheepishly.

I understand. I don’t want to consider it, either.

“…I don’t know,” I tell them, standing back up. “The evidence before us seems overwhelming, but it’s been centuries since a Dragon was last seen in Ellyntide. Why here, why now?”

Nobody knows why Lithans, one of the two known species of Dragon, stopped visiting the Kingdom centuries ago. They were a menace to livestock and routinely took ferals from the wild. Disturbingly, there are even stories of them preying on farmers and the knights who tried to subjugate them. When they stopped flying here nobody questioned why — they were too busy celebrating.

A Lithan could certainly leave a footprint this large, but nothing else about it makes sense. Why would a Lithan appear in the Eastern Weald today, of all days? How could it even reach this far south without being spotted by an airship?

Ultimately, we aren’t here to ponder these questions.

“Let’s set it aside for now,” I say to Roland. "Why don’t we walk around and see if we can spot any boot prints from the Princess’s group?”

They nod to acknowledge, looking unnerved.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

We walk along the edge of the grass, and I look out over the pond and its mirror reflection. It’s peaceful, here. The Princess must have thought the same thing if their group passed through before the feral did. What conversations were they having, I wonder?

“Huh,” pipes Roland, diverting their attention to the field next to us. “The birds, they’re— “

SKREEEEEEEEEE!!! [https://www.sarlain.net/img/m1/ch17-0.gif]

Reflexively I pulled my ears down and dropped to the ground. Or perhaps it was the force of the noise hitting me from the side that toppled me over. The only certain thing is I’m now lying in the grass with my eyes shut and a persistent, painful ringing in my ears that cancels out everything else.

I feel hands on my shoulders, touching and pulling at my waistcoat. Someone is surely asking if I’m alright, but through the noise and the pain, I can’t make any sense of it.

“My ears…!” I say, unable to think of anything else to assuage their concern for me. With that, the hands-on my shoulders release their grip.

After a few painful moments, the ringing begins to subside, and normal sounds slowly return to me. I begin to hear the voices of the officers talking amongst themselves.

“—ell, how long does it take?” asks a voice.

“I-I don’t know! I’ve only seen one other rabbit react to sound this bad!” another voice, this time LaRoche’s.

Not wanting to worry them further I force myself to sit up, then feel hands prop my back.

“Easy, Commander,” waxes Roland in a hushed tone. “Please, take it easy,”

“G-give me a moment, please…” I mutter.

Us Rabbits are sensitive to loud noises, of course. We even train ourselves to withstand the sounds that other species are quite capable of tolerating. But no amount of training could have prepared me for what just occurred.

I open my eyes to see Bryant and LaRoche standing in front of me, Roland and Harper to my right. Roland looks worried sick, and even the normally steely Bryant has lost some of her bravado.

“Report…” I ask, still sensitive to noise. ”What the hell just happened?!”

“Commander. It’s good to see you’re alright,” answers Bryant, unfolding her arms. “We were hit by some kind of… scream. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Harper turns his shaken face to Bryant. “It’s a Dragon, it has to be! The path it tore through the trees goes clear through to the other side of the forest!”

Bryant looks to Harper and for the first time, I see concern swell in her. Her gaze lowers to the ground. “It’s… difficult to imagine what else it could be, sir.”

I release my ears and hobble to my feet. My head feels like it’s been kicked by a mule, but I’ll survive. With my officer’s dreadful analysis, I no longer have the luxury of worrying about my own well-being.

“We’re leaving,” I announce, unsheathing my rapier. “Right now.”

“Sir?” Bryant asks with a trace of surprise in her voice.

“Lieutenant, lead us in the direction where the scream originated from. I have a strong suspicion the Princess’s group is connected to it.”

Byrant’s eyes narrow, and her expression turns grim. “Understood. Follow me.”

On that, the mood of the group changes instantly. I hear them shift uncomfortably amongst themselves, their anxiousness rising. Nobody wanted this to turn into a rescue mission. Who could have possibly predicted it would involve a Dragon?

We move through the edge of the grass and around the footprints. When we come upon the chasm in the trees I cast a furtive glance, so as not to startle the officers further. Though I only briefly check, it’s just as Harper described; A gaping maw with mangled branches hanging from its sides and a tunnel through the trees, perhaps some 60 yards long, with daylight visible on the opposite end.

Calypso… could he truly survive an encounter with the monster that caused this?

Once we pass the pond we find ourselves at the top of a small incline. Bryant stops and turns to face me.

“It seemed to come from across this field,” she says, using her tail to point off in the distance. “That grove of trees, specifically.”

Instead of acknowledging, I simply start walking, this time quicker than before. A moment later the other officers catch up and Bryant retakes the lead.

We step out into the field as a gust of wind blows through us in the direction of our destination. I feel the sun against my back as we move at a quickened pace, shadows casting long silhouettes in front of us against the golden grass of the prairie. It won’t be long before darkness falls.

Whatever we find up ahead, I recognize my priorities must lie in protecting the Princess. She is our future, after all.

But all I can think about is Calypso. All I can think about are those footprints, the hole in the trees, and Calypso encountering the monster that caused it all. I always knew that one day he could be called on to sacrifice himself for Asha… but not like this. Not this way.

When Calypso first vied for the role of housecarl to the Princess, he understood what it entailed.

We were still dating at the time. I can distinctly remember sitting in our bedroom when he came to me with his intention to become the bodyguard of the soon-to-be 18-year-old Princess. Despite already being Knight-Captain in the Legion of Dragons — a title that any self-respecting knight would consider the pinnacle of desirability — he found the idea of being the bodyguard of the future Queen to be the noblest thing imaginable.

My response was… less than enthusiastic. I was deeply concerned for his safety. Being close to the Queen, I knew what that role entailed. I knew the risks it brought.

‘It’s too dangerous,’ I told him. ‘Do you really want to die for that girl? She’s reckless, insubordinate, and a pest. With her luck, you’ll— ‘

He just bear-hugged me, the way he often did.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘She’s still the Princess. And this is what I want.'

Calypso holds Duncan in his arms while Duncan stares back, visibly flushed. [https://www.sarlain.net/img/m1/ch20-3.png]

For a few moments, we held each other. He knew how calming his presence was to me.

And so, I too accepted the risks. I made peace with the fact that someday, Calypso might have to make the ultimate sacrifice in service to the girl that nobody, myself included, particularly liked. He believed in Asha when nobody else would... sometimes it still feels like that’s true.

It makes me no less apprehensive about our current situation.

Could he really survive an encounter with a Dragon? It can’t be like this, a senseless death at the talons of a witless beast. Where’s the nobility in that? The honor?

As we approach the trees, worry swells in my chest, and my heart rate quickens. I have to believe that Calypso is still here, protecting the Princess from harm. If I can’t have hope, then I’ll—

THOOM!

Without warning a noise like thunder bellows through the trees. The ground quivers below us and my officers freeze in place.

LaRoche cries, “Oh my god!”

“What the hell was that?!” shrieks Harper, searching the sky in a daze.

Instead of answering, I take off in a sprint, dropping my sword at my side so I can run faster.

“Duncan!!” Roland yells from behind me.

I don’t look back. You told me you understood, now prove it to me.

I don’t care if there’s a Dragon. I’ll die for him if I have to. If Calypso is still alive, I’ll force the monster to take me before it takes him.

It can’t end like this.

It can’t end like this.

Oh God, please don’t let my fears be true!!

I stumble through the underbrush, nearly as dark as nighttime, weaving my way around trees and logs as fast as my legs will carry me.

THOOM!

The ground trembles once more, this time throwing me off-balance. My boots catch on a maple root and I stumble shoulder first into a bramble.

“Aggh!!”

Hot pain flashes through me and I wail into the woods. Thorns rake my clothes, and blood flows freely down my flank.

Adrenaline surging, I grab onto a thorny branch and stifle the surging pain, forcing myself to my feet. I can’t slow down, not for one second. I need to know if he’s safe. I need to see my husband, to smell his sweet scent once more. I can’t do this without you, Calypso. I can’t fall back into darkness.

Again, I take off running, now with an unsteady gait. Above me the trees begin to thin, and I know I’m close to the other side. My heart is stampeding, and tears are in my eyes. Will Calypso be there? Will he be safe?

I stumble through a thicket, breaking through the trees and into a clearing. Unbidden, my gaze is stolen.

A creature as big as an entire building, covered in dazzling azure and cream feathers, rising aloft from a field in front of me. I immediately recognize its lean body, its serpentine neck, and its enormous wings. No photographs of this feral exist, but its appearance is distinct and immediately recognizable.

It is a Lithan.

It pounds its feathered wings hard, struggling to gain altitude before it seemingly catches a breeze and begins rising above the tree line. As it does Its head turns toward mine.

For a fleeting, breathless moment, our eyes lock one another.

EER-KRSAK!

The Lithan cries out to me.

I could swear it sounds lonesome. Remorseful, even.

I stand there and watch with eyes wide as the Lithan, shimmering iridescent in the fading autumn light, more stunning than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on, soars through the sky. It flies with purpose away from us, seemingly in the direction of the mountains to the east.

I stare agape at this scene until a noise from one of the officers grabs my attention. A terrible, shrill sounding noise. The type of noise that pierces your soul and haunts your memories.

I lower my gaze back toward the moon. Something catches my attention.

Below us, a hollow.

I stare past the brambles that surround the perimeter and fall to my knees.