Episode 58
Why Did It Have to Be Dragons?
Rominy grips Elowyn’s hand as they stand together at the entrance to the labyrinth. If he thought it looked eerie during the day, it was nothing compared to how it feels now. The muffled sounds and the mist. So much mist.
All so they can say hello to a dragon that killed him the last time they met.
When he glances at Elowyn, her eyes betray a small amount of fear to match his own. But determination sweeps over her, and she stands tall at his side with her elven leathers and painted eyes.
Stars above. She’s the most magnificent woman he’s ever seen.
To think he didn’t want to marry her. Insane. That’s what he was. Completely insane.
She takes a step forward, but he holds her back.
“Can you give me a crash course on dragons since my education was so clearly lacking on the subject?” he asks.
Her brows wrinkle as she looks at him. “A...crash course?”
“An overview. Summarize what I should know.”
“Ah. I see. Of course.” She faces him as she speaks, and he pushes aside thoughts of drawing her close as he focuses on her words.
“Dragons are highly intelligent creatures. They are also social. Occasionally, the males will live in isolation, but once they’ve mated, most males never leave their mates except to hunt.
It’s unusual for a female to be alone unless she’s guarding her eggs while her mate is hunting. ”
Rominy’s head spins. “So this is a male dragon?”
“Possibly. Or...” Her voice fades, and she looks away.
“Or what?”
“Or we only saw one, and there’s another one nearby. Dragons are loyal creatures. They mate for life.”
“Two dragons? You think there might be two dragons?” The world starts to sway.
“Rominy.” Elowyn rests her hand on his chest over his leathers. “Take a deep breath and stay with me, my love.”
Her touch helps center him, and he does his best to breathe along with her.
“What do you know about dragons and their feelings about people?” Rominy asks once his panic has lessened. “Can they be domesticated?”
Elowyn tilts her head from side to side. “They’re magical creatures, similar to unicorns in many ways. Think of it less as taming and more as developing a camaraderie where the dragon is willing to let you pretend to be its master.”
“Sounds like a house cat,” Rominy mumbles, and Elowyn laughs.
“Elves consider cats untameable. You merely coexist. It’s much the same with dragons.”
Rominy sighs. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Practically speaking, dragons don’t have the best vision up close. If you don’t move, they’ll struggle to see you.”
He nods. “Good to know.”
“They also respect fire. All the most famous dragon riders throughout elven history were fire wielders. According to legend, fire magic was bestowed upon Zelovon by the last of the sentient dragons before they departed these lands, leaving only the lesser dragons living in the northern mountains. Even those are rumored to be extinct now, though.”
“Zelovon. I recognize that name.”
“The first of the Westarian kings. I’m descended from Zelovon.”
Rominy nods. “Right. Wait, back up. Did you say sentient dragons? What kind of dragon killed me?”
“A lesser dragon. I think.”
“You think?”
“I doubt there would be a dragon shifter in our heartlanding. We should be the only sentient beings here.”
Rominy lets that sink in. “Shifter. As in—”
“A man at times. Or a woman. A dragon at other times.”
“And this is the crash course?” His head is definitely spinning now.
Elowyn laughs again. “For tonight, just remember that dragons can’t see well up close, they respect fire, and our dragon may not be alone.”
“Got it.”
“And one more thing,” she says softly as she slides her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and pulls him toward her. “Remember you’re mine, Rominy. And there’s no one I’d rather chase dragons with than you.”
“I think perhaps another fire wielder might be more helpful than a human,” he whispers as her words wash over him. Magnetically drawn to her, he dips his head and nuzzles her nose. Her breath is warm on his lips, and she exudes a hint of smokiness from her blaze earlier.
“I don’t need more fire,” she murmurs. “I have plenty of heat to share.” Then she kisses him softly. Without urgency. As if they have nowhere to go and nothing to do but be together here in this garden.
His hands slip to her waist over her leathers, and he just rests them there. She’s the most alluring mix of soft and strong, with a wildness about her that makes him ache to experience every facet of her person.
When she pulls away from the kiss, he draws her to his chest and wraps his arms around her, and she rests her head against his shoulder. Eventually, he presses his lips to her temple and lets her go, offering her his hand again. “Together?”
“Always.” She places her palm in his and smiles up at him. Her grip is sure and warm but not burning as they step into the mist of the labyrinth. Her magic light does little to cut through the fog, and Rominy gulps at the speed with which the haze envelops them.
“Slow and steady,” she says.
They make their way down the path, cautiously peering around the corner before continuing, though it’s almost impossible to see anything in the thick fog.
Then, like last time, as quickly as it appeared, the fog dissipates, leaving only inky blackness beyond the circle of Elowyn’s light.
This is it. This is where they stumbled upon the dragon before.
Elowyn squeezes his hand before letting go and angling her body in front of him. It feels wrong to let her shield him, but he follows her lead. She’s far more qualified to chase dragons than he is.
He barely blinks as he stays at her back, shuffling quietly behind her. At least he can protect her from behind. Or try to.
She lifts her hand in a fist, and he stills as they peer into the darkness. Then he sees it. The faint glint of her light reflecting off what could only be a dragon’s scales. The glint shifts slowly up and down in a methodical rhythm. Breathing? Is the dragon asleep?
Perhaps they should leave it that way.
A knee-high wall of fire suddenly appears between them and the sleeping dragon, and Rominy flinches at the bright light.
Hopefully, that was Elowyn’s doing.
He can make out the dragon better now. It’s green, as before, and it must be in a deep sleep not to have noticed the firewall separating them.
Elowyn whispers something Rominy can barely hear about gold, and he almost tips over when the most dazzling golden circlet full of jewels appears in her hand out of nowhere.
What kind of magic is that?
And what does she plan on doing with a crown? All the stories say dragons hoard gold, but he wasn’t sure if that part was true or not. It must be. Unless Elowyn plans to wear the circlet, which seems unlikely.
“Whatever happens, I love you,” she whispers over her shoulder.
Stars above. Is that supposed to make him feel better?
Before he can respond, the steady breathing stops, and that yellow eye blinks open again.
This was a bad idea.
The dragon’s attention flits from Elowyn’s fire to the circlet in her hand to Elowyn’s face before returning to the fire again.
How much can it even see?
Then it shifts to a standing position.
It’s actually a lot smaller than it looked before. It blended so well into the hedge during the day that it was difficult to tell where the scales ended and the bushes began, but the light reflecting off the dragon’s hide makes it easier to discern in the shadowy night.
“If I did that right, it will accept my flames,” Elowyn whispers.
Before Rominy can question that, the dragon huffs in the air between them so forcefully that a breeze tugs at Rominy’s hair.
And along with the air, the dragon inhales Elowyn’s fire, absorbing it somehow.
It takes Rominy’s eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness, and Elowyn tosses out another magic light.
When she steps toward the dragon, Rominy forces himself not to pull her back.
She lowers her head and offers the circlet, which apparently is for the dragon, though where it came from is still a mystery.
Then, to Rominy’s shock, the dragon extends a foot—paw?—and Elowyn moves even closer.
Stars above. She’s fearless.
She slides the jewel-encrusted ring onto the creature’s leg, and the dragon lowers its foot back to the ground.
It wasn’t a circlet at all. It was a dragon-sized bracelet.
“Come here, Rominy,” Elowyn whispers, and he forces his feet forward. “Hold out your hand and don’t move. Do you understand? Don’t even flinch.”
“Elowyn—”
“Trust me. Please.”
Exhaling slowly, he does as she says, bracing himself for whatever she thinks is going to happen.
For a moment, she holds her hand over his heart before thumping her own chest. And then, to his dismay, she hovers her hand over his, leaving a fireball swirling just above his palm.
What magic is she doing? Is she trying to convince the dragon he has fire, too?
This is terrifying. He doesn’t dare move. The heat from her fire warms his hand, and sweat breaks out on his brow.
And now the dragon’s moving straight toward Rominy.
Memories of their last encounter flood him, and his knees wobble beneath him as he stands frozen in place.
The dragon stares at him, though its gaze looks unfocused. Nausea rises in Rominy’s stomach as the dragon moves closer, its spiked tail twitching behind it.
The warm huff of the dragon’s breath ruffles Rominy’s hair as he closes his eyes, waiting for the sting of that tail to slice through him.
Dragons. Why did it have to be dragons?