Chapter 2

Arwintar had monumental architecture aplenty, but there weren’t ten-metre-tall statues of any Emperors in the city. E-Rantel had two statues of its reigning sovereign standing on either side of its southern gate. Nemel wasn’t sure what to think of them. Fendros, Elise and Ida silently stared up from the nearby wagon lot, as if harbouring the same sentiment.

“Is…is that the Sorcerer King?” Ida asked.

“I think so?” Elise answered, “But all I can see are the feet and the face. They’re sort of scary…”

Someone had made an effort to illuminate the statues so people could make out the details at night, but, due to the exquisitely realistic way that the robes flowed around the figures, the lighting at ground level cut off around the knees. There were magic lights in the eye sockets of each statue’s skull, supposedly done in an approximation of an Undead being’s crimson gaze. The light painted the inside of each cowl, casting both skeletal visages in a garish red glow.

“M-maybe it looks better during the day,” Nemel said as they walked between the statues. “Look, there are even flowers piled up around their feet.”

They were suitably monstrous piles of flowers for the monstrously huge statues. At least they weren’t piles of bones.

“Do you think we’ll see him in person?” Elise asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Fendros said, “I’ve only seen the Emperor once, and that was during a parade. The Sorcerer King is even more powerful than the Emperor – there’s no chance we’ll be able to see him in person!”

“That’s right!” Nemel said, “We’re pretty much nobodies here. There’s no way.”

“There is,” Dame Verilyn said.

Nemel turned her head to look up at her liege.

“There is?”

“I’ve heard that the Sorcerer King regularly walks around the city. Maybe he’s doing it right now.”

A lump formed in the pit of Nemel’s stomach. She wasn’t ready to meet the Undead magic caster who had single-handedly crushed the Royal Army of Re-Estize.

“…what do we do if we see His Majesty?”

“Who knows,” Dame Verilyn shrugged, “I’ve not met His Majesty myself.”

Nemel looked past the gate, but she didn’t see any ten-metre-tall Undead casters stomping up and down the street.

The customs officials let them through after asking a few questions, offering a warm welcome to the Sorcerous Kingdom. Past the outer gate was a large section of warehouses between the first and second walls. They passed between a pair of Death Knights at the next gate, which led to a more city-looking part of the city.

As with the border town and Corelyn Harbour, the streets were brightly lit. Unlike those towns, the city of E-Rantel felt more like a settlement that belonged to the region. Winding streets lined with wattle-and-daub houses were frequented by a familiar mix of Human residents and wagons. Since all of the wagons appeared to be using Soul Eaters, however, the ever-present scent of horse manure that cities and towns in the Empire had was absent.

“After seeing those last two towns,” Ida said. “I thought E-Rantel would be even crazier.”

“Crazier?” Nemel frowned.

“Yeah, like with flying citadels that they talk about them having down south or something. This all looks, um…normal?”

“It’s not as if the Sorcerous Kingdom built the city,” Fendros told her. “Humans did. Of course it would look like a Human city.”

There were signs of restructuring being done in the city, however. As they made their way deeper in, they saw stretches of roadwork being done by Dwarves directing teams of Skeletons. It was probably as much as they could manage without tearing everything down and rebuilding it.

They zigzagged back and forth in a northeasterly direction, eventually coming to the gate of a dividing wall. Nemel’s steps slowed as she stared at the pitch-dark void beyond.

“Dame Verilyn,” she asked, “what’s in there?”

“It’s E-Rantel’s Demihuman Quarter,” Dame Verilyn replied. “There’s a way up into the aviary there, as well.”

Nemel reached out and grabbed Dame Verilyn’s hand. Fendros took Nemel’s hand, Elise took Fendros’ hand and Ida took Elise’s hand. Nemel’s eyes darted about as they proceeded forward and the darkness swallowed them.

“It’s not that dark,” Dame Verilyn said.

“How do you know that?” Nemel furrowed her brow, “You have perfect night vision!”

It turned out that it wasn’t actually that dark. After her eyes adjusted, she found that the main thoroughfare was lined with softer lights. Every type of Demihuman she had ever seen in her life and more moved about the streets, so she refused to let go of Dame Verilyn’s hand.

“Hmm, he’s not in,” Dame Verilyn murmured.

“Who?”

“Master Tian. He runs a dojo nearby, but nothing is moving inside.”

They went further into the quarter, walking down a ramp to pass through a terraced market. Dozens of unfamiliar sights, scents and sounds assailed Nemel from every direction. Save for a handful of Dwarves and Humans, all of the Merchants running the stands and the people browsing them were Demihumans. She couldn’t tell what half of anything being sold was for.

Five minutes later, they came to a cavernous opening that went down into the ground. A steady stream of Demihumans came and went. They joined the flow of bodies to make their descent.

“Where are we going now?” Nemel asked.

“Zu Chiru’s place,” Dame Verilyn answered. “Most of the Demihuman Quarter is underground. Once I see him home safely, my task will be complete.”

“What were you in the Empire for, now that this is all over?” Fendros asked.

“I told you what I was there for.”

“B-but that was just a cover, right?” Fendros said, “You must have had some other super secret objective…”

“Not that I can recall. I was told to find some spies on top of what I was already doing, but that was it.”

Fendros being Fendros, Nemel was certain that her friend was in no way convinced. Countries didn’t usually dispatch powerful Dragons to investigate domestic industries, markets, and infrastructure and advertise the Adventurer Guild. Actually, countries didn’t usually dispatch powerful Dragons at all.

The air grew warmer the further they descended. Strange, glowing mushrooms replaced the magical lighting, washing the wide tunnel in a half-dozen fluorescent shades. Nemel’s only sense of how deep they were was the slowly growing feeling that they were being pressed down upon by the earth above.

Zu Chiru stopped at an alcove ringed by purple, green and yellow fungus. He wiped his feet on a mat before opening the door further in.

“Sister? Chiru is back…”

A Quagoa head popped out from a side room.

“Brother? Everyone, Chiru is back!”

The scratching of clawed feet echoed from within. Six more Quagoa came out into the hallway.

“Husband!”

“Husband!”

“Husband!”

“Husband!”

“Husband!”

“Husband!”

“…eh?”

Zu Chiru took a step backward. Nemel’s lip curled downward.

“Rejoice brother!” Zu Chiru’s sister said, “Many new litters come!”

“But–”

“Your sister braved the world above to purchase the right to expand our warren from the Undead. It was expensive, but there was plenty of money in your Merchant Guild account.”

“…”

“The best ores were ordered from our old home. Your children will grow healthy and strong with the sleekest of coats! It is good that you made so much while you were away.”

Nemel had been around the Quagoa long enough to see that the females filling the hallway were tremendously proud of Zu Chiru.

“We went to see Director Alpha from the Azure Sky, Iron Fist Sect to put together an education plan for them. The cost of tuition was high, but your children will be the wisest of the next generation. Also, your wives have purchased adornments suitable for the consorts of the greatest Quagoa Merchant. Master artisans work day and night, fashioning clothing and jewellery that will not bring shame to the name of Zu Chiru!”

Zu Chiru’s eyes went from wife to wife, nose and whiskers twitching. Nemel wondered which one of them was the ‘beautiful wife’ that his apprentices gushed over. After a long moment, the Quagoa Merchant wordlessly turned around and shuffled back out of his home.

“Where are you going?” Dame Verilyn asked.

“Zu Chiru must return to work.”

The Quagoa Merchant turned around and disappeared into the crowd. Nemel exchanged looks with her friends. Was what happened a good thing? A bad thing? She had no idea how Quagoa families were supposed to function.

“Well,” Dame Verilyn said, “that was interesting. Let’s head to the aviary.”

“Aren’t you angry?” Fendros asked.

“Angry about what?”

“Zu Chiru went and got all those women pregnant! I thought you were supposed to be the ‘wife’.”

Dame Verilyn tilted her head curiously.

“I have no idea what you’re thinking. Why should it matter to me how many children he has with other women?”

“…how do Frost Dragon families work?”

“We deposit our eggs on glaciers and icebergs,” Dame Verilyn said. “The more plentiful the area, the better.”

Food, as Nemel had come to realise, did not just mean wild animals. It included people, too. Dame Verilyn’s world was not the same as the agrarian idyll that Nemel had been raised in, despite how civil she seemed.

“So you don’t take care of your children at all?” Ida asked.

“Not usually,” Dame Verilyn answered. “We’re born with everything we need to take care of ourselves. In general, Dragons can go all the way to adulthood without seeing another Dragon and be perfectly fine. Speaking of which, I’d like to head to the aviary now.”

“What are we doing there?”

“Visiting my family.”

For someone who claimed that Frost Dragons didn’t care much for family, Dame Verilyn seemed quite intent on seeing them.

To Nemel’s surprise, they didn’t go back up the way they came, instead continuing going further into the colourful tunnel spiralling deeper under the city. Eventually, they came to a stone storefront that was, curiously, similar to what one might find on the streets above. They entered and found themselves in a warmly-lit tavern with patrons from several different races. The proprietors of the establishment were Dwarves.

“What’s this place?” Nemel asked.

“It’s the Frosty Beard,” Dame Verilyn said. “The first business established in E-Rantel’s Demihuman Quarter. This way.”

The aroma of hearty meals and strong liquor suffused the air as they went along the side of the tavern. Dame Verilyn led them up a stone stairwell, which went up through several floors’ worth of corridors lined with accommodations. Near the top of the stairs, they came out into another tavern with a different set of patrons from the one below. Upon leaving the building, they found themselves back on the surface.

Not far from the tavern was a large office with an attached warehouse. Across from the office was some sort of walled complex. The sign near the gate read Azure Sky, Iron Fist Institute for Promising Young Children. Nemel and her friends cast curious looks at the scenery beyond the gate.

“It’s the orphanage run by Director Alpha,” Dame Verilyn explained.

“Isn’t it too big for an orphanage?” Ida asked.

Charity was limited, so most charitable organisations tried to stretch their budgets as much as possible to help as many people as possible. Even temple orphanages used low-cost housing that consisted of simple longhouses with shared living and sleeping areas. Food was similarly on a tight budget. Education suited the orphanage owner’s purposes. Temple orphanages, for instance, usually trained children to be members of the temple staff.

“There are a lot of orphans,” Dame Verilyn said. “Mostly Humans. In addition to dormitories for its occupants, the orphanage houses a ‘primary school’, a library and several other facilities meant to teach the orphans life skills.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Where do the orphans go after they grow up?” Fendros asked.

“I have no idea,” Dame Verilyn answered. “I can only assume that they are dispatched to pay off whatever costs they incurred for their upbringing. Maybe Director Alpha collects taxes from her carefully-cultivated products?”

“Orphans aren’t products,” Nemel frowned. “And not everything is about taxes.”

“They should be. Taxes are wonderful. You should see all the schemes that Lady Zahradnik has come up with for her own carefully-cultivated products.”

“That’s…”

Technically, Dame Verilyn probably wasn’t wrong, but it sounded terrible. A Noble was tasked with managing their demesne, which included its people and their productivity. Nemel didn’t know anyone who viewed their subjects as ‘carefully-cultivated products’, however.

“You can’t talk about your people like that,” Nemel said. “They’re all vassals under your care and you should be good to them.”

Her liege cast a dubious look at her.

“Whenever Humans talk like that,” she said, “it always ends up as something expensive or some sort of impractical nonsense.”

“It’s not ‘impractical nonsense’,” Nemel replied. “You’re…you’re not going to do mean things to your new subjects, are you?”

“I thought that was your job.”

“It is. No, wait. It’s my job to help manage your land. I’m not going to do anything mean to anyone.”

“If you say so. You can do anything you wish so long as I get my taxes…well, there are some things that I won’t tolerate, but you should already know what those are.”

As a Frost Dragon, Dame Verilyn wanted to keep her demesne – or rather, her ‘domain’ – mostly natural. Not only was it to be kept mostly natural, but the natural balance had to be preserved. Land was set aside for ‘Human-type’ settlement, but it was a small percentage of her holdings. Activities like hunting and logging had to be kept sustainable. Any industries that they developed couldn’t be detrimental to the natural state of her territory.

Nemel would have her potato villages. They could also glean some of the natural bounty from their surroundings. Beyond that, they couldn’t think of what else they could do. According to Dame Verilyn, Baroness Zahradnik had a similar policy for development. Hopefully, they could get some ideas from her.

They walked into the office across from the orphanage, which turned out to be a processing centre for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s ‘Vampire Post’. Two of the namesake Vampires were interacting with a small line of customers while another was in the warehouse sorting out parcels.

“Dame Verilyn,” the Vampire Bride in the warehouse said, “you’re back. Who are these young women?”

“They’re my new minions,” Dame Verilyn smiled.

“…minions? I don’t recall collecting minions as being a part of your assignment.”

“It wasn’t, but no one said that I couldn’t. Anyway, they’re mine now. You can’t have them.”

Dame Verilyn stuck up her nose. As an Elf, it looked incredibly haughty. The Vampire Bride ran its crimson gaze over Nemel and her friends.

“Are they authorised to be in here?”

“…authorised?”

“This is a government office. Members of the general public can’t simply go in and out.”

“But they’re my minions. Look, no one ever questions why you’re allowed to go everywhere while accompanying Lady Shalltear.”

“Mmh…”

The Vampire Bride went to confer with the two others in the front. Nemel felt guilty over delaying the post office’s queue. A minute later, the Vampire Bride came back.

“Why are you here?” She asked.

“To see my family, of course,” Dame Verilyn answered.

“Is it necessary for these Humans to accompany you?”

“They’re the entire reason why I’m going.”

The post office worker crossed her arms, raising a hand to tap her lower lip with a manicured finger.

“This is highly irregular…”

“I don’t see why it is. If Lady Zahradnik is Lady Shalltear’s vassal and I’m Lady Zahradnik’s vassal, then my vassals are also under Lady Shalltear. We all work for Lady Shalltear.”

That’s not going to work at all…

Just because someone was a vassal didn’t mean they gained all of the rights and privileges of their liege.

“Well, alright,” the Vampire Bride said.

Hah?

Dame Verilyn ushered them up a flight of stairs that grew more frozen the higher they went. The top was completely iced over and they found themselves in front of a huge structure straddling E-Rantel’s inner wall. Like the wall, the entire building was covered in layers of ice and rime.

They followed a black carpet into the structure’s wide entrance. Aside from its size, it had the feel of a regular hallway. Doors lined the outer wall and an odour similar to Dame Verilyn’s – which was a distinct lack of one if that made any sense – filled the air.

“Mother!” Dame Verilyn called out, “Mother? I’m back!”

The door in front of them opened. A Frost Dragon nearly twice as long as Dame Verilyn looked out from inside.

“Welcome back, dear,” the Dragon said in a decidedly motherly tone. “The time you’ve been away, hmm…it feels like one of your usual wanderings. How was the Empire?”

“It was very Human,” Dame Verilyn replied. “I did end up collecting a lot of treasure, though. Also…”

Dame Verilyn grandly swept out her hand towards Nemel.

“I have minions now!”

The Elder Dragon gasped. Her head shot forward faster than Nemel could blink, stopping ten centimetres from her face.

“Really?” A nostril threatened to suck in Nemel’s head, “These are your minions?”

“Indeed,” Dame Verilyn said proudly, “my very first minions. The one you’re sniffing right now is Nemel. Down the line from her are Fendros, Elise and Ida. Everyone, this is my mother: Kilistran=Denshushua.”

Nemel offered an awkward curtsey, trying not to stare at the fangs in front of her.

“Pleased to meet you, my lady. We’ve been in your daughter’s care.”

“Oh my, how polite. Everyone, come look! My dear Ilyshn’ish is back and she has minions!”

Several doors in the hallway opened. The same number of Frost Dragon heads popped out.

“That can’t be right,” a Frost Dragon with a single alabaster horn said. “Ilyshn’ish is barely a century old!”

“That’s right,” another, smaller Frost Dragon said. “How can it be possible?”

“Maybe if they were Goblins, but those are Humans…”

Kilistran only seemed to grow more proud with every comment.

“I told you my methods of rearing weren’t wrong,” she said. “Grr, if only Munuinia wasn’t out on deliveries. I’d make her eat all of her sanctimonious drivel about raw strength being the only thing that matters.”

Human mothers often bragged about their children. Nemel never imagined that Dragons would as well.

“Say,” another Frost Dragon asked, “why are they all young Human females?”

“They’re not just young Human females,” Ilyshn’ish answered, “they’re Human Lords!”

“Young female Human Lords…that’s a Red Dragon thing, though.”

Legends said that Red Dragons savoured the flesh of young maidens. More often than not, those tales would involve beautiful princesses. She had always dismissed it as a fanciful attribution – why would something specifically target young maidens, after all – but maybe it was true.

“I’m not going to eat them,” Dame Verilyn said. “Human Lords manage land, so I’ll be having them manage my mountain.”

The Frost Dragon shook its massive head.

“There you go with your crazy ideas again. First singing, then dancing, now some strange Human idea. Nature sees to itself – you don’t need anyone to manage it. I swear you and Hejinmal become more deviant by the season.”

“That might be true for Hejinmal, but I’m not a deviant! Where is he, by the way?”

“Work,” Kilistran said. “There’s a new route to the southwest. I believe everyone else has been familiarised with it already.”

“I hope they don’t expect me to start deliveries right away,” Dame Verilyn said. “I’ve been working non-stop for months! Maybe they’ll let me sleep for a year or two. Actually, I should leave before they find something for me to do…”

Dame Verilyn said her farewells and left the aviary. She made Nemel and Fendros cast Fly on everyone so they wouldn’t have to go back through the post office. They landed in the city’s central district and left out of its southern gate.

“Your mother seems like a nice person,” Nemel said.

“Is that so?” Dame Verilyn replied, “Well, I suppose she tried to raise us in our decidedly un-Frost-Dragon-y circumstances, but, beyond that, I don’t think she’s particularly nice. I’d say my father was one of the nicer ones in our little enclave.”

“Didn’t your father want to wipe out the Frost Giants? He subjugated the Quagoa and you said he did all sorts of mean things to you, too.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Nemel sincerely hoped that Dame Verilyn would stay as nice as she was. Not that she was particularly nice, but she was generally straightforward and didn’t go out of her way to do mean things. Frost Dragons were supposed to be pretty evil, but her new liege was a lot more civil than most of the people Nemel had encountered.

They passed through the main plaza of E-Rantel, which was still busy despite the late hour.

“Do we need to buy anything from here?” Elise asked, “It’ll be a long time before we see the city again, right?”

Now that they were in the Sorcerous Kingdom, the idea that they would be out on a wild frontier became more real. Endless worries over forgotten necessities and whether she was ready to become a Goblin chief plagued her thoughts.

“We’ve checked over our things three dozen times already,” Fendros answered. “I’d be shocked if we found out we were missing something.”

“Didn’t Nemel book passage before dawn tomorrow?” Ida yawned, “We should get back to our room soon or we’re going to be dead on our feet tomorrow.”

They returned to Corelyn Harbour without any argument. A day of travel might have been simple to shrug off, but their week-long journey from Arwintar had worn all of them thin. Their destination was another hundred kilometres upriver from Corelyn Harbour, but ships were generally much faster than wagons and could sail all day and night. Committing critical blunders due to fatigue as soon as she took up her station wouldn’t be the best of starts.

Before the sun rose the next morning, everyone gathered at the berth where their ship was due to arrive. Nemel bought breakfast for everyone at the local Death Bread and they ate while chatting amongst themselves. A wagon conveying the container with their belongings was parked nearby.

“I hadn’t noticed before,” Ida said, “but this harbour is above the river, isn’t it?”

Nemel peered south, but the morning mist obscured anything beyond a hundred metres. She looked down at the water of the harbour.

“That’s probably true? The water here isn’t flowing.”

“The Katze River has seasonal floods,” a Vampire Bride in a blue-grey uniform said. “The harbour is several metres above the river for that reason. A pair of locks at each end of the harbour allow entry.”

A sense of relief came with the normal-sounding explanation. The Empire had several river networks that employed locks to bypass unnavigable stretches of waterway. Flood control was also a crucial element in provincial management. With the Sorcerous Kingdom being as ridiculous as it was, she had grown to expect some equally ridiculous answer to every mundane problem.

Several minutes later, a barge appeared out of the fog to the west. It rode a bit higher in the water than a river barge in the Empire, but the design seemed familiar enough. What was strange about it, however, was that its hull was fashioned entirely out of steel. After a moment, she looked up and realised that the barge also had no sails. Nemel leaned back and forth, trying to figure out how it worked.

“Are there Soul Eaters pulling it around?” She asked.

Barges were sometimes assisted by draft animals on the shore. Since the Undead didn’t need to breathe, they could be underwater.

“There were proposals for that early on,” the Vampire Bride answered, “but it was quickly deemed unfeasible for deep water. The Undead moving the ship are inside the vessel.”

Maybe there was something like a waterwheel hidden out of sight. The Imperial Army’s corps of engineers occasionally made proposals for Golems to be used as a motive force for all manner of machinery, but the cost of development and production was exorbitantly high.

The barge silently glided to a stop under a gurney crane at the berth. Some sort of metal frame was lowered and it disappeared into the ship’s hold. A minute later, a container identical to theirs was lifted out of the barge and lowered into an empty lot. Two more containers joined the first before their container was loaded onto the ship. The Vampire Bride gestured to them.

“You may board now,” she said.

“Eh? It’s already ready to go?”

“The vessel will depart in ten minutes.”

An Elder Lich floated down from the deck, exchanging documents with the Vampire Bride. Nemel instructed her settlers to board the barge, counting heads as they went up a flight of portable stairs. After confirming that no one was missing, she went up the steps and found herself staring at a mostly-featureless deck. Her people wandered around, looking over the edges and into the hold. They avoided a structure in the back where a Death Knight was staring out at them from behind the helm.

“This barge is so big,” Elise said, “but we’re the only cargo.”

“The companies in Elenel would go into fits over all of this empty hold space,” Ida agreed.

“It’s to be expected, isn’t it?” Fendros said, “Warden’s Vale is out on the frontier. They wouldn’t move the same amount of freight around as a developed territory.”

River transport was generally so efficient that even developed territories only saw delays in transport during seasonal harvests. Trade between cities would have been as Fendros had mentioned. Going by the sheer lack of cargo, Nemel estimated that there couldn’t be that many people in Baroness Zahradnik’s territory. She couldn’t see what was in the offloaded containers, but, if she were to guess, it was probably all raw materials.

The ship’s bell sounded and they drifted away from their berth. Nemel looked over the railing, watching the water churn quietly near the rear of the vessel. She still couldn’t figure out what was moving them around. They entered a lock on the eastern end of the harbour, which lowered them to river level. After clearing the lock and turning westward, the ship picked up speed to about what good, steady winds would give a sail barge.

“How long will it be until we arrive?” Ida brushed back a lock of blonde hair from her face.

“The harbourmaster’s office said no more than five hours,” Nemel said.

“…doesn’t that mean we can go back and forth from E-Rantel in a day?” Elise furrowed her brow, “I thought we would be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with nothing nearby.”

“Our place isn’t in Warden’s Vale,” Nemel said. “It’s somewhere further along…Dame Verilyn?”

“If one follows the river,” Dame Verilyn said, “it’s about forty kilometres further upstream. It’s on the far side of the river, as well.”

Nemel eyed the Katze River. The shores were so far apart that she couldn’t make out anything smaller than buildings, vineyards and orchards on either side.

“So it’s six hours to E-Rantel from Warden’s Vale,” Elise murmured, “but once we get to our place, we’re stuck?”

“Nemel and I have Fly,” Fendros said. “So it shouldn’t be that bad. A river like this should have smaller boats, as well.”

“But if we have to evacuate for some reason,” Ida said, “it’s going to be bad.”

“Why would you need to evacuate?” Dame Verilyn frowned.

“Because…Lady Zahradnik allows people to eat other people in her territory, right? Ogres or something might raid us.”

“Nonsense,” Dame Verilyn scoffed. “Humans might be stupid enough to encroach on a Dragon’s domain, but tribal Demihumans aren’t. If you properly mark your territory so predatory beasts stay away, you can probably sleep out in the open and nothing will eat you aside from flies and mosquitoes.”

“How do we ‘properly mark out our territory’?” Nemel asked.

“I don’t know how Humans do it,” Dame Verilyn answered, “but you can probably leave scent markers like everyone else.”

“Scent markers?”

“Like dogs in the cities. Urinating on building corners and trees and such.”

They stared at Dame Verilyn. Nemel imagined herself with her skirts hiked up around her waist, desperately trying to pee everywhere so she wouldn’t get eaten. How much water would she have to drink? How often would she need to do it?

Dame Verilyn yawned and stretched, walking out onto a clear section of the deck. Then she transformed into a Dragon. The settlers around the ship started and fled to the bow. Nemel ran over to calm them down.

“Don’t worry, everyone,” she said. “That’s Dame Verilyn.”

“That ain’t no ‘Dame Verilyn’!”

“It is! I told you all before, right?”

“W-we thought you meant some other kinda Dragon!”

What other kind of Dragon was there? Nemel turned around.

“Dame Verilyn, that’s dangerous! What if something happened to the ship?”

“Such as…?”

“Sinking? You’re a Dragon, you know!”

“Of course I know!” Dame Verilyn’s tail flicked from side to side, “You small people always have a horrible sense for size and mass. I only weigh about one tonne. That box you filled is far heavier than I am. This ship can carry multiple boxes. Do you really think that a cute little Frost Dragon like me will do anything?”

Dame Verilyn spread her wings while muttering to herself, lifting off the deck with a single, powerful flap. She hovered in place and alighted on top of the structure at the rear of the vessel, folding her wings and curling up on herself.

“Wake me up when we get home,” she said.