Remicra's gaze lingered on the bed of her prison, noting its worn sheets and frayed edges of the wooden carvings she made.

She hesitated for a moment, then with a defiant flick of her wrist, she dragged the magisteel arrowhead across the myriad of red runes etched onto the walls of the second floor. Each scarred rune sparked, ignited and dimmed under her assault.

"It is done," she returned to Dave's side, her thoughts a tangle of trepidation.

They went downstairs to the first floor as Remicra continued to destroy the red runes on the stairwell and then within the storage room, bathing the old smithy in murky darkness.

Soon, the pair stood in front of the shimmering portal that led to Dave's new Estate, a single rune right beneath their feet glowing red.

Remicra momentarily considered the strange, ginger-haired human in front of her. Nothing about him made sense, his plans seemed recklessly idiotic and yet… yet he has somehow managed to bring down the five high level, incredibly capable hunters that made her life living hell for decades.

The splatters of blood and arm on the floor of the smithy was a testament of his impossible accomplishments.

"Ready?" Dave asked, his sky-blue eyes radiating subtle warmth.

"Ready," she said, the word tasting strange on her tongue. "When I pull my collar apart, it will tear the integrity of the runework and expose the control crystal at the back of my head next to my spine. Your job will be to pry it out of the collar with the magisteel arrowheads and then scratch off the runes that track my location. As soon as the collar runes come apart, the collar will knock me out for about eight hours."

"Got it," Dave nodded.

"Here we go then," Remicra put her ruby hair up with a hair tie and grabbed at the collar on her neck. Her innate forgemancer magic allowed her powerful claws to sink deep into the metal, beginning to warp it almost instantly.

The metal groaned under her pull as she began to rip the collar apart. She growled and pulled even harder.

"I can see the crystal!" Dave commented, his voice trembling.

They were both quite tired and dirty after throwing or rolling everything from the smithy into the portal.

Remicra smirked at her companion and pulled even harder. The runework surrounding the collar suddenly came apart under her hands. A pulse targeting her soul struck through her body right through her claws and darkness claimed her.

. . .

As Remicra's breath slowed, Dave gently lowered the passed out dragoness to the floor. Her iridescent scales turned a neutral, dark gray shade.

Having positioned the dragoness on a pile of cloth, with a swift, decisive motion, Dave struck the gemstone that was sitting deep within Remicra's collar with a magisteel arrow head.

After about twenty more hits, the gemstone cracked. On approximately thirtieth strike it shattered completely. Dave pulled the broken shards of the crystal from the warped collar. Then, he steeled himself and continued his relentless assault on the warped collar with the arrowhead.

The room seemed to hold its breath, time stretching out, until finally, the runes around the collar were nothing more than very scratched-up symbols devoid of any meaning. The once vibrant runes dimmed, their power dissipating into the air like a dying breath.

He did it!

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Dave carefully scooped up the limp dragoness and carried her through the dark portal.

With a final voicecast call to the waymancer, the portal connecting the lighthouse smithy to the large, stone shed of the Rimzadria Estate snapped shut, its ethereal luminescence winking out like a snuffed candle.

The weight of what he had done hung heavy in the air.

Dave carried the sleeping dragoness out of the shed to the couch in the living room of the small cottage connected to it and busied himself for a few moments, looking over the various pilfered items, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

All the while, he kept a watchful eye on Remicra, a knot of unnecessary worry twisting in his gut.

Eventually his mind began to drift from tiredness, so he unrolled his bedroll on the floor of the caretaker's cottage and closed his eyes.

. . .

After what felt like an eternity of dreams in which she attacked and defended and ran from the five again and again only to be caught and tortured with the pain hex, the dragoness finally awoke, her eyes fluttering open and her breath hitching with a gasp.

Remicra looked around. She was in a cozy living room of an old, simple, stone house. Rays of sunshine spilled from the windows. It was morning.

She exhaled, her gaze suddenly locking onto Dave's sleeping form as if seeking validation that this was real and not another cruel dream.

The ginger haired man stirred in his sleep, his face dirty with soot, and in that moment, the dragoness suddenly realized that despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the stubbornly mad adventurer from another world had somehow managed to carve a new path for her - one potentially filled with hope, and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Remicra opened her mouth and realized that she had no words to express her rushing emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She was completely out of her element here, not expecting any of this. None of her attempts at escaping over the years had ended up with her waking up without a new collar constricting her neck.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

She rubbed at the raw, reddened scales on her neck, her gold-violet eyes glistening with unexpressed gratitude as she looked at the sleeping man. A quiet serenity enveloped the room, the soft rise and fall of Dave's chest and his breathing were the only thing making a sound.

Perhaps for another, more physically expressive person, it would be easy to wake Dave up with a big, gratitude-infused hug, but Remicra was utterly broken, like a sword that was missing its hilt, covered in holes and rust. The mundane acts of caring had been burned out of her by the endless violence she had endured at the hands of her Overseer.

The dragoness let out a forlorn sigh at her inability to show any degree of positive affection. She stepped over Dave's sleeping form, her movements graceful and fluid.

She quietly explored the nooks and crannies of the old cottage, scouting its timeworn, empty rooms. Eventually, she emerged outside into the large park, the morning air cool and refreshing.,

Her heart started to beat faster as she went further than ten steps away from the building. There was no pain. There was no ward barrier here designed to stop her.

Remicra gazed down at herself, a profound realization dawning upon her like the first light of a new day. With the oppressive collar no longer exerting its control, her scales were finally hers to command. A surge of exhilaration coursed through her as she focused her mind, her body responding in kind as it seamlessly merged with the environment around her.

Her scales shifted and shimmered, their hues and patterns transforming to mimic the verdant foliage and dappled sunlight that bathed the garden. It wasn't perfect invisibility like the illusion of the Chameleon, but it was a cloak of camouflage that danced on the edge of perception, a subtle artistry that both concealed her and revealed her true nature.

As she stood there in the verdant garden, her body harmoniously blending with the world around her, Remicra felt an intoxicating wave of liberation wash over her. The chains that once bound her spirit seemed to dissolve into the air, leaving her heart as light as a feather.

With a newfound sense of freedom surging through her veins, she took off at a run, her muscles taut.

As she ran, laughter began to bubble up from deep within her, a sound so rich and heartily joyous that it seemed to fill the air around her. It was the laughter of someone who had tasted true freedom for the first time, a soul unburdened by the weight of captivity.

Nothing held her back. She was free.

. . .

Dave awoke with the kind of grogginess and muscle ache that one can only achieve after a long night of lugging thousands of iron bars and barrels filled with sand and coal. He stretched his tired, barely responsive limbs, and proceeded to disentangle himself from his sleeping bag that had wound its way around his body like a boa constrictor.

Having regained his freedom, Dave ambled towards the front door of the quaint caretaker's cottage.

As he stepped outside, his senses were immediately assaulted by the vibrant hues of the midday park. Shielding his eyes, he squinted into the distance and spotted something that could only be described as a marvel of biomimicry.

Remicra was running between the trees at a pace unattainable by a human. Her scales shimmered and shifted as if they were made from a million tiny disco balls, each one changing colors with the fluidity and grace of a lava lamp. Dave idly wondered if her innate chromatic abilities were the result of evolution or some mad mage's experiment fusing people with chameleons.

As Dave observed Remicra darting about, her scales flashing a dazzling kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and the occasional splash of brown, he couldn't help but comment aloud, "You're pretty quick on your feet."

Upon hearing Dave's voice, Remicra slowed her run and turned her attention towards him. Her spirals of liquid gold and violet, sparkled as she approached him.

"Ah," she said. "You're awake?"

"Yeah," he nodded, scratching the back of his head, "I see you're enjoying your newfound freedom."

Remicra shuffled her feet, as she attempted to convey her gratitude. "Yes, well... I suppose I should... thank you for that," she said panting a little, each word tumbling hesitantly from her mouth like a row of dominoes that had been placed too far apart.

Dave shuffled too, mirroring her awkwardness. "You're welcome," he replied. "I'm glad I could help."

Their eyes met, and then just as quickly, darted away, as if the sight of the other was too intense to bear.

Remicra took a deep breath, her chest swelling with air as she prepared to deliver a speech she had been rehearsing in her head during her running. "Urmn…. I want you to know that even though I might, perhaps, come across as... ungrateful or harsh, I do appreciate what you did for me."

Dave nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"But," she added, her voice growing more confident, "you should also know that it was an incredibly idiotic thing to do." Remicra's scales flashed a vibrant red, reflecting her sudden irritation. "The consequences of your actions will most likely be extremely disastrous for both of us. Lord Burgundy isn't going to take the robbery of his smithy lightly. There will be no peace for you wherever it is you go now."

Dave simply shrugged. At this point, he was far too exhausted to invest his energy in entertaining her negativity. He had just spent a night stealing several tons of steel and liberating a dragon blacksmith from captivity, and frankly, that was about as much heroism as he could muster in this given time frame.

Remicra continued, her frustration manifesting in the restless flicker of her scales, "As nice as it is to finally be able to stretch my legs and to have full control of my innate camouflage, I know that this will not last," she said, her voice tinged with a melancholy. "I've simply traded one cage for another."

Her eyes gazed past Dave and into the sprawling park. It was as if she could see the invisible bars that encased her, the ones that had been exchanged for much smaller confines of her previous prison.

"I will not be able to take leave of here," she said, with resignation. "There are hounds that will be able to track me by smell or other magics. Princess has a lock of my hair and a few scales, seers will easily be able to locate me. I won't be able to pass through the gates of Shandria without being arrested and ferried back to my owner."

Dave raised a finger, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ah, but I've readjusted the outer ward. Seers can't peer into this place anymore. I have a gate mage on call, so we'll be able to go around the town's walls," he pointed out, as if he had been waiting for this moment to reveal a trump card. "And I'll give you an artifact that stops people from tracking you."

Remicra's eyes narrowed, a hint of skepticism flickering in her irises. "I won't ever be able to show my face in Shandria or another town," she said, as if daring him to refute her claim.

"Mmm... no," Dave shook his head. "You'll absolutely be able to go into town with me."

"How?" The dragoness asked.

"Remember the shard I found in the mountains? There's a lot more of it there. An entire warship made from arcane Magisteel!" Dave said, his words dripping with promise. "You're going to build a new forge in this Estate and craft yourself a full set of magisteel armor worthy of a king."

"What? You'll give me enough magisteel to make myself a full armor set?" Remicra blinked, her eyes igniting from within, a kaleidoscope of two colors swirling like a cosmic dance. "A slave wearing magisteel is unheard of!"

"Exactly," Dave nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "You'll look like a proper highborn lady! Magisteel fused with a specific type of runic hexagrams can block even the best Guild scanners - there's a dungeon core on this estate and nobody found it for thirty years because it's shielded by layered magisteel combined with absolute wards!"

"You... you'd be willing to do that for me?" The dragoness choked.

"You betcha," Dave smiled.

"Do you even have any idea how much such an armor is worth?! Skyship magisteel properly molded into warded armor practically costs its weight in gold!" She growled.

"Irrelevant," he shrugged. "The metal is free to obtain, this estate costs me nothing. I know what magisteel-reinforcement runes look like and I've got the best blacksmith in Shandria as my partner!"

Remicra took a few more steps forward, her scales shimmering with a thousand colors in the sunlight, her eyes a mix of gratitude and disbelief. It looked like she wanted to give Dave a hug, to thank him for the impossible, outrageously expensive gift he was offering her. Before she got any closer, a sound of applause interrupted the pair.