Chapter 3

“This…is one of ours.”

Hejinmal raised his snout into the air, sniffing as mountain winds lashed him with grains of icy powder.

“I don’t smell anything, sister.”

“Really,” Ilyshn’ish sighed. “We’re less than a kilometre away from the place. How will you ever find a mate like this?”

Her brother looked away and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Rather than try and make out what he was saying, Ilyshn’ish looked around them, alert for potential dangers.

Though the Frost Giants had been brought under the bony heel of the Sorcerer King, there were still a number of powerful monsters that lurked in the Azerlisia Mountains. They were no real threat to Ilyshn’ish, but Hejinmal was another matter.

Even after he finally left his room, I still have to look out for him…

It didn’t cost her anything, but the notion still annoyed her. Maybe Lady Aura could be convinced to whip Hejinmal into shape…no – it would be safer to pass the suggestion along through Lord Mare, who might in turn mention it to Lady Aura. She looked back to her brother, who was scribbling something in the snow.

“We should get this over with,” Ilyshn’ish said. “This should be the last of these pitiful wretches.”

Her brother took wing from the ledge. Ilyshn’ish followed after him, eyeing the winding path up the mountainside. From how high the snows were piled upon it, there had been no visitors to their destination for at least the last few weeks. After several minutes of lazy flight, they alighted in front of a gash in the mountainside: a narrow cave across which the wind howled mournfully outside.

“Oh, I can smell her now,” Hejinmal said. “This is…one of Mianatalon’s?”

Ilyshn’ish rolled her eyes. That much was obvious without needing to say so. What was also obvious from the scent emanating from the cave was the overall condition of the Dragon inside: abused, hungry and lacking in proper hygiene. She was not yet an Adult – one of the many immature Frost Dragons that had been bested by the Frost Giant tribes. The difference was that she had been one of the few who had been captured rather than killed.

Slavery was illegal in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but that law didn’t apply to pets. Most of the Frost Dragon slaves taken by the Frost Giants had been turned into exactly that. Fortunately for them, roughly half of the Frost Giant population had been obliterated by Lord Cocytus’ forces – including most of the hunters strong enough to keep Frost Dragon pets.

Unfortunately for them, they would not be able to enjoy their newfound freedom. Lady Shalltear expressed great interest in adding to the number of Frost Dragons in the transportation network, and so Ilyshn’ish was ordered to go and retrieve them.

It would have been much better if she had sent one of the Elder Dragons. Ilyshn’ish was about as strong as an Elder Dragon, but, as a recently-grown Adult, she was much smaller and less imposing. There were concerns over whether the three former consorts of Olasird’arc would show sympathy to their children, but it was a non-existent worry. These enslaved Frost Dragons had proven themselves unfit for survival. They weren’t even counted as one of their number and it was counted a relief that they wouldn’t breed their weakness into the population. Failures simply ceased to exist.

Hejinmal stuck his head into the opening of the cave.

“H-hello…hello?”

Ilyshn’ish rolled her eyes and walked straight in. The cave was more like a shallow fissure, and their Blindsight could sense the Dragon within from the entrance. There was no need to be so tentative.

A clatter of chains sounded as she approached. Two dull turquoise orbs met her own. Ilyshn’ish narrowed her eyes, scales rippling disgust. It wasn’t a proper greeting at all. The other Dragon’s expression did not hold any anger over her intrusion or even the slightest bit of draconic dignity.

The younger Dragon’s gaze wavered. She had tucked herself into as small a space as possible, looking frail and weak. A tail devoid of any expression lay limply over the ice. Everything about her displayed raw, unabashed fear.

This is what it means to become a pet. How is this a ‘cherished companion’?

Ilyshn’ish suppressed a shudder. She didn’t want this fate. Yet it was her fate – by Lady Shalltear’s decree. All she could do was delay the outcome for as long as she could and hope Baroness Zahradnik grew disinterested. Maybe she would grow old and die before it could happen? Probably not. Something told her that Lady Shalltear would not let the current state of affairs linger for much longer.

The chained Dragon’s gaze darted nervously to the side as Hejinmal appeared from behind Ilyshn’ish.

“W-who?”

The Dragon’s voice cracked, and she started to cough. Hejinmal cast a worried look over to Ilyshn’ish.

Ilyshn’ish sighed. She drew herself up, putting on the friendly expression.

“Greetings sister!” Ilyshn’ish said in a pleasant and energetic voice, “We’ve come to pick you up.”

“Sister…you’re Ilyshn’ish – of Kilistran’s brood?”

“That’s right,” Ilyshn’ish nodded. “And you’re Kali’ciel. Are you aware of what has come to pass?”

Kali’ciel’s gaze focused and unfocused.

“I think so. I could feel it – my mistress is dead. I thought other Frost Giants would come to claim me. Were you the ones who slew them?”

“No,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “But we work for the ones who did. Now that you are free, we have come to bring you to a place where you will be gainfully employed.”

She left the specific details out. To a Dragon who had been a slave, the opportunity for something was better than the nothing they had before.

The rattle of chains echoed over the walls of the narrow cavern as Kali’ciel shuffled to her feet. Merely six metres in length, she looked half-starved. Her scales were chipped and frayed and her wings…

“Who is this other one?” She asked, “I don’t think I’ve seen him before, but he smells familiar.”

“This is Hejinmal,” Ilyshn’ish answered.

“H-Hejinmal? The one that never leaves his room?”

“The same. As you can see, he is no longer in his room.”

Stolen story; please report.

Hejinmal straightened and offered a friendly smile, but Kali’ciel turned her attention away. Ilyshn’ish frowned. Even his half-sister wouldn’t give him the time of day. She should talk to Lord Mare about making some improvements soon.

“I…I want to go home,” Kali’ciel said.

“Home?”

“Our home. Feoh Berkana. I haven’t been there in so long, but I can still remember it. I can still remember going out to hunt…the net that took me out of the sky…then…then…”

Kali’ciel started to sob. Ilyshn’ish tapped her claws on the ice impatiently.

“The Dwarves had reclaimed Feoh Berkana,” she told her. “It is no longer our home.”

“It’s not? But how? Father–”

“Father is dead.”

At her flat statement, Kali’ciel blinked in confusion. This was easy enough to understand – Olasird’arc stood at the pinnacle of strength, and it would be impossible for a young Frost Dragon to imagine that he could be defeated. Hejinmal eyed Ilyshn’ish with a reproachful look.

“We can still go to visit Feoh Berkana,” he told Kali’ciel. “We can rest in the aerie there and find you something to eat. Once you’re well enough to travel, you can come with us to E-Rantel.”

“E-Rantel?”

“A city to the south – the capital of the Sorcerous Kingdom. It’s who we work for, now.”

“But I don’t want to leave the mountains,” Kali’ciel said. “I…I can’t even fly anymore.”

Kali’ciel tried unfurling her wings, then winced in pain. As with all the other Frost Dragon slaves, cruel braces had been fitted to them. As they aged, their wings grew twisted and could no longer be used to fly. Kali’ciel was lucky, however: a decade or two more and she would have been deemed too dangerous to remain as a pet. Frost Dragons were slaughtered before they could grow strong enough to turn on their masters, and Ilyshn’ish had seen too many trophies and pieces of equipment fashioned from her former kin in the past few days.

“Ilyshn’ish can fix that,” Hejinmal looked towards her nervously, “Right, Ilyshn’ish?”

“I suppose…” Ilyshn’ish said noncommittally, “But first, I will have your promise.”

“Sister!”

Ilyshn’ish whacked Hejinmal with her tail, sending him sprawling. Kali’ciel stared in disbelief, probably wondering why she was so strong.

“What…what sort of promise?” The younger Dragon asked.

“Hm, let’s see…first, you will serve as Hejinmal’s attendant.”

“Huh?”

“Quiet, brother. Secondly,” she carefully fished an object out of her Infinite Haversack, “You will return this ring to me when I ask for it.”

Kali’ciel sniffed curiously at the ring. It wasn’t stupendously valuable, but it was probably the most valuable thing the captive Frost Dragon had ever sensed. She appeared to resolve herself.

“I’ll do it,” Kali’ciel said. “If you can really make it so that I can fly again, I promise to do as you ask.”

“Good,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Now put this on.”

She did as was asked, and Ilyshn’ish nodded.

“Now thirdly.”

“Thirdly?”

“Don’t scream.”

Kali’ciel’s eyes widened as Ilyshn’ish lunged. Ilyshn’ish swatted away the claws that came up defensively, moving sinuously to appear behind the younger Frost Dragon. With a swipe of her right claw, Ilyshn’ish tore off one of Kali’ciel’s wings at the base, then the other. Then she broke her shoulders. Her crooked tail was annoying, so she took it off as well.

Pained gasps rose from beneath her. Kali’ciel did not scream, for Dragons prided themselves in keeping their word. This, at least, was a good sign.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t thrash around, Ilyshn’ish moved away from the whimpering Kali’ciel. Ilyshn’ish entered into her Form of Restoration as she settled down in front of her.

“Why…why did you do that?” Kali’ciel sobbed.

“If you’re as smart as I think you are,” Ilyshn’ish yawned, “you should already understand by now.”

The average Adult Frost Dragon was loosely about as intelligent as a Human, but younger Frost Dragons were more akin to highly intelligent predators. Kali’ciel was about seventy years old, but her fluent communication indicated that she should be smarter than average. Nowhere near as smart as Ilyshn’ish or Hejinmal at the same age, but still smarter than the average juvenile Frost Dragon. Which was to say that she was more than just a talking ball of murderous predatory instinct.

Kali’ciel grew quiet, shifting silently at what must have been a rather strange sensation. Ilyshn’ish had a wing broken once, but it was a far cry from having them removed. Over the next hour, Kali’ciel’s wings and tail grew back under the effects of Ilyshn’ish’s spellsong and the Ring of Regeneration. Kali’ciel unfurled her wings, and her tail twitched in disbelief.

“It doesn’t hurt? I-I can move my wings again! Oh, thank you, sister! Thank y–ghk!”

As she moved around to test her newly restored mobility, she reached the length of her chain and tumbled into a heap. Ilyshn’ish snorted. Maybe Kali’ciel wasn’t as smart as she thought.

Ilyshn’ish reached out and grasped the young Dragon’s collar with a claw, shattering it in her grip.

“I think you’re as strong as mother these days,” Hejinmal eyed the fragments of metal on the ground. “D-do you think the ladies would be impressed if I could do that?”

“Probably,” Ilyshn’ish said. “But I don’t think you’d attract anyone that I would approve of with raw strength alone. You probably wouldn’t like them, either. Imagine someone like Munuinia.”

“Ew.”

“Right? Maybe you’re not in a position to be picky about it right now, but you should probably try to find someone more your sort.”

“You mean someone like you?”

“Ew!”

Hejinmal’s jaws snapped shut. Kali’ciel backed away from him with a wary look.

Good job brother: now you’re both a shut-in and a pervert.

After retrieving the Ring of Regeneration and sending her brother and half-sister outside, Ilyshn’ish followed the chain to where it was attached to the cavern wall. The block it was fixed to was too hard for a Juvenile Dragon to dig through with their claws, but it proved to be a simple matter for her. She gathered up the chain and put it into her Infinite Haversack – the item was enchanted, so she could probably have it sold for a respectable sum.

Back out on the mountainside, she found Hejinmal perched on the ledge. Kali’ciel was hesitantly looking over the edge, so Ilyshn’ish went up and shoved her off. The newly-freed Frost Dragon plummeted into the valley below with a gasp.

“Aw, I should have told her that she could scream again.”

“That was a horrible thing to do, sister.”

Ilyshn’ish snorted.

“She was thinking too much, brother. Flight is an instinct.”

Far below, Kali’ciel levelled out and rose on the winds. She was a bit shaky, but it would probably be gone by the end of the day. They watched as the younger Dragon made joyful loops and turns in the sky.

“Why did you make her promise to be my attendant?” Hejinmal asked, “Lady Shalltear will want to have her getting used to deliveries right away.”

“Then she’ll go do deliveries,” Ilyshn’ish answered. “I know you have a Vampire Bride assigned to you, but Kali’ciel should be clever enough to use as well. You’ll have to teach her how to read, though.”

Ilyshn’ish and Hejinmal took wing to join Kali’ciel. Once they had ascended to a suitable altitude, Ilyshn’ish banked away.

“Where are you going, sister?”

“Back home,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “I’ve done everything Lady Shalltear has ordered me to. Make sure Kali’ciel doesn’t eat anyone she isn’t supposed to.”

They parted ways and Ilyshn’ish picked up speed with powerful strokes of her wings. At her current pace, she should be home in a little over two hours.

Home.

Was it safe for her to think of it as such? Whenever she felt a little bit better about her situation, things tended to take a turn for the worse. At the least, she should expect some sort of droning lecture from Lady Zahradnik about some obscure and incomprehensible Human custom or law.

Her trip to the Empire was not far off, either. The idea of seeing a new place excited her, especially since it was claimed that nothing would try to eat her there. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, however – hopefully, there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises.