The Tale Of A Dragon Chapter 2 "viele Feinde, Viel Ehre"

* * *

Ethan felt like he was drifting in a sea of warmth. All was right with the world and he felt a profound sense of peace. It was like slowly waking up from a long nap when you were very tired. He felt refreshed and content; almost happy.

"Wake up dragon." A strange voice said. Something was shaking him, but a dragon? What did dragons have to do with anything?

"Wake up foul beast, or I'll put you down in your sleep." The voice said again.

Ethan's eyes slowly opened. He was in a dark room that was very blurry, or maybe that was his vision. The room was plain; there was no furniture and the floor was covered in grass -- a tent maybe? That's when Ethan remembered that Alana was going to meet someone from a traveling caravan.

Could this be them?

Something kicked him in the ribs. Hard.

"Wake up and answer me dragon." The voice said

"I'm awake." Ethan tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't move. It came out as a muffled sound. He looked down to discover he was wearing a muzzle; an actual muzzle -- made of rope.

"Good." The voice sounded calm but stern.

Ethan tried to move, but found he couldn't. He was strapped down to something. He tried to turn his head to see what, but it was difficult with his head also constrained.

"What did you do to Alana Staff-Grower?" the voice asked. Ethan again tried to answer, but the muzzle prevented him from speaking.

"Listen to me fell beast I'm going to remove the muzzle and you will answer my every question with complete honesty. If you don't, I will use your carcass as a pincushion. Do you understand?"

Ethan tried to both nod his head and say yes. Neither came out correctly, but apparently the voice got the idea. A pair of dark grey hands reached in front of Ethan and untied the muzzle.

"Thank you." Ethan said.

"Now, what have you done to Alana staff-grower?"

"What's wrong with her?" Ethan asked.

"You don't ask the questions here beast. Tell me what happened."

Ethan gave him the quick version of them being chased, which quickly led to the voice demanding that he tell him everything from the beginning. He did so, but there were many interruptions. The voice seemed particularly distressed when he mentioned that Hermair's men had burned Alana's house and destroyed her staff farm.

When he had finished, the voice was silent for several moments.

"So now will you tell me what's wrong with Alana?" Ethan asked. The voice didn't answer and Ethan could still barely move.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity -- but was probably only a minute or so -- the voice spoke.

"Alana is dying." The voice said.

"What!" Ethan shouted. "How?"

The voice made a pensive sound.

"Listen to me mister." Ethan said. "You better help her right now or I'll tear you limb from limb when I get out."

"A curious threat." The voice didn't seem concerned though. "You seem more concerned with helping Alana than freeing yourself. If that's the case, then you are a strange dragon."

"Yeah, she said the same thing." Ethan tested the restraints again. He could move a little, but not much.

"A dragon that has just reached adulthood showing concern for a wood elf. Curious. Most curious. I have never heard of a dragon that expressed concern for anything but gold."

Ethan rolled his eyes and then started actively trying to get out of his restraints. From the little he could see, it was cobbled together from boards and a few leather straps. He pushed with all his might but he wasn't strong enough to just break out. He started wriggling around to get his claws close to the leather straps. After a minute, he was almost there.

"Peace, beast." The voice said. "I shall release you if you stop struggling for a moment."

Ethan did, and a few moments later the straps holding him down went slack. He stood up to his full height and turned to face the voice's owner.

The man was clearly an elf like Alana, although with dark gray skin. His hair was almost white, but Ethan didn't think it was because of age as he looked barely middle-aged and seemed quite fit. He was wearing simple pants and shirt made from a rough fabric, and had a short sword belted around his waist. His hand was on the pommel.

Looking at the man's face, Ethan got the distinct impression that he shouldn't take this man lightly. His eyes were bright and spoke of cunning and intellect. He looked relaxed, but judging from his stance he was also a fighter and looked ready to move at a moment's notice. All of Ethan's instincts told him to be wary.

He ignored them.

He stalked toward the man until they were almost nose to nose. "Where is Alana?"

"Hmm." The man seemed completely at ease even with Ethan in his face. There were a few tense seconds while Ethan waited for a response, then finally the man spoke.

"I am Garthildur Trade-Captain. If you will follow me, I'll take you to see Alana."

The elf walked out of the tent into a small encampment, Ethan following closely. The sun was low in the sky, but Ethan's excellent dragon night vision allowed him to see perfectly. The camp consisted of a half a dozen tents in a rough circle with a fire in the center. The tents reminded Ethan of Native American tepees. Several women were cooking over the fire and a few kids were running about playing.

The moment he stepped out of the tent, several armed guards snapped to alert. They were armed with spears that were about eight feet long and tipped with wide cutting blades. They pointed their spears at him the moment he appeared.

"Peace." Garthildur said. "I don't believe this dragon has hurt Alana."

The guards withdrew their spears, but didn't take their eyes off Ethan for a second. He got the disctint impression that Alana was well liked here. He turned to follow the elf, but stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

There was a dark-skinned elf carrying a horse.

The horse was literally on his shoulders. It wasn't a big horse, but it must've weighed over seven hundred pounds... And the man was walking with the horse on his shoulders as if the horse was a tenth of that weight.

"How in the world..." Ethan wondered aloud.

Garthildur stopped to see what he was looking at. "The horse is lame and they needed to move it; an enchanted amulet on the horse decreases its weight."

"Wow." Ethan stared for another moment, before remembering Alana and turning to follow the dark elf. He led the dragon to another tent and led him inside. Ethan barely noticed the inside of the tent because he only had eyes for Alana. She was barely breathing and her normally tanned skin was white as sheet She looked like death warmed over.

"What happened to her?" he asked while rushing to her side.

"I believe you happened." Garthildur said. "Unless I read the battle scene wrong, you were shot in the heart with an arrow. If what you said is true, I think Alana gave you some of her deep mana to save you."

"What's that mean?" Ethan asked.

Garthildur sighed. "All living creature need magic to survive. They draw it from the Ether and it provides life to their bodies. The excess we collect and use for spells and enchantments, but magic is still necessary for life. I believe Alana spent all of her mana trying to heal you, but didn't have enough. So instead of letting you die, she tapped into the deep mana that was keeping her alive."

"You mean she...?" Ethan stared at Alana. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was already dead. "Will she recover?"

"Not without help." Garthildur replied. "Deep mana sustains all life. Without it, her body is dying. She could normally replenish it, but she has used so much she can't replace it fast enough. Her body will give out before she can recover."

"Is there no way to refill this deep mana back up again?"

"Not unless you know someone willing to risk their life for a slim chance of success."

"Explain." Ethan demanded.

"Deep mana is tricky and dangerous to trifle with." Garthildur said. "While on occasion a magic user will tap it, it comes with extreme risk. Using it to power a healing spell was reckless."

"You didn't answer the question." Ethan pointed out.

"No, I didn't." Garthildur paused. "Her deep magic must be replenished if she is to survive. Regular mana isn't sufficient; she needs deep mana from another living being."

"So it's just like a blood transfusion. She can have some of mine."

"You hear, but you don't understand." Garthildur sighed. "Deep mana is much more than the regular mana used to power a spell. If that's all it was, I would've healed her already. Deep mana is the essence of a person's very being; of their spirit, their will and their consciousness. Many call it the seat of the soul."

Ethan felt like someone had had just punched him in the gut. "Alana gave me part of her soul to save me?"

"Not quite, but not far off." Garthildur said. "If you give her too much deep mana, you might die even if you save her."

"I'll take that chance." Ethan said without hesitation. "She did the same for me."

"Ah, the fire of youth." Garthildur sighed again. "Do you even know what sharing deep mana means in Elven culture?"

"No." Ethan confessed.

"I thought not. Sharing deep mana with someone is a profoundly intimate act. When they share theirs back in return, it creates a strong and permanent bond. It's so intimate, that the sharing of deep mana is the very heart of Elven weddings."

"I thought you said it was dangerous."

"When you are both wounded and low on mana, yes." Garthildur sighed for the third time, clearly growing frustrated with his ignorance of Elven culture. "But when two people who are full of deep mana share it with each other, nothing is consumed because they replenish each other. There is no danger at all."

"Look. I don't know anything about the whole Elven marriage thing. Where I come from, you're not married unless you exchange vows."

"You and Alana are both of marriageable age so you can wed according to the laws of the land and Elven tradition." Garthildur frowned. "Yet you would spit on our traditions?"

"Aren't you assuming I would just abandon my traditions about marriage and adopt yours?" Ethan countered. "Isn't that an insult to my traditions? But regardless, I can't let Alana die. I'm not saying I want to marry her, but I need to save her. So show me how to heal her or get out of the way so I can figure it out myself."

"Very well." Garthildur shook his head. "One last caution; to my knowledge no elf has ever shared their deep mana with a dragon before, much less bonded with one. There may be additional side effects from this union."

"Noted." Ethan replied. "Let get started.

* * *

Rachel did her best not to look bored. For some reason, her father always insisted on making her sit through these endless reports. Today some boring minion was droning on about a failed mission.

"Hermair's men found the scouts dead. It appears the dragon and the elf killed them and escaped." The soldier said. It would have been funny how much he was shaking if she didn't know her father might kill him for the failure.

"Get out of my sight." Lord Delmar spat.

The soldier ran out of the room.

"Can I go too?" Rachel asked. Her father shot her a look that would have made a lesser woman cower.

Rachel sighed and resigned herself to spending the whole afternoon in the great hall. She had to admit it was grand. The vaulted ceilings were at least thirty feet high and the hall was at least twice that long. Elaborate tapestries and gold candle holders filled the room, leaving visitors in no doubt as to Lord Delmar's wealth and power.

His throne was even more magnificent than the rest of the room, and he sat on a platform raised so high that only the tallest of visitors would be level with his feet. Behind him, a stained-glass window depicted a rising sun and the great God Illuminar shining down favorably on the throne's occupant. From the viewer's perspective, it looked like he was bathed in the radiance of the sun and Illuminar's blessings.

Knowing what her father was really like -- and how disapproving Illuminar would be of his methods -- she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"His Excellency, Prince Vulrit of Marcadia." The herald announced loudly as he led a group into the hall. The prince entered with his entourage. Rachel suppressed the urge to sigh again; another stuck up prince looking to forge an alliance with her father by marrying her. She was getting really tired of them treating her as if that was her only purpose in life.

"My lady, your beauty is as ravishing as the sun when it rises." Prince Vulrit said, with a dramatic bow.

Rachel meant to say something gracious in return, but her mouth ran ahead of her. "And by that do mean common, because the sunrise is seen every day?"

The prince opened his mouth to respond, but he seemed to have spent all his wit on his compliment and had nothing left to think of an answer. He'd probably practiced that compliment for days to get it so polished. She wasn't surprised; he looked like he used his sword arm more than his brain. She could almost feel her father's glare and moved quickly to rectify the situation.

"Forgive me my prince." Rachel said feigning interest and lying through her teeth. "Your compliment was well received and I'm most grateful for your wit and charm. Many princes have come to court me, but I feel your sincerity dwarfs theirs and I would be delighted to entertain you at dinner tonight."

Only now did she glance at her father, but the mighty, all-wise, all-powerful, and oh-so-benevolent Lord Delmar didn't deign to look back at her. He kept his eyes on the prince and they started discussing some alliance, seemingly determined to bore her.

Rachel busied herself practicing her magic.

She would pull all the heat out of one of the candles in the room, extinguishing it. Then, she'd pull some heat from the great fireplace and use it to reignite the wick. She turned it into a game, seeing how fast she could extinguish and reignite a single candle.

When that became boring, she started playing with her ring. Her father had given it to her a few years ago and warned her never to take it off. She never had, but twirled it endlessly around her finger. The strange thing was, the skin under her ring started itching whenever she disobeyed him. He said it was a regular ring, but she sometimes felt like it was enchanted.

Almost an hour later, the prince and Lord Delmar finished their negotiations. Unsurprisingly, her father had walked all over the prince in the negotiations and received the better end of the deal by far.

"Clear the court." Lord Delmar ordered once the prince had left. Rachel stood up to leave, but he spoke again. "Not you Rachel."

"Come here." He ordered once the room was clear. Rachel rose from her seat and stood in front of his throne. He rose up to his full and considerable height and then -- seemingly out of nowhere -- the back of his hand slapped across her cheek.

Hard.

"Ow! Father what was that--" Rachel started to say, but he slapped her again, even harder.

"I have tolerated your insolence for long enough." He said without emotion. "Your only value to me is to increase my standing through marriage."

"But father--" Rachel began, but was interrupted by his fist hitting her in the stomach and winding her. She fell to the floor gasping for breath.

"If you ever speak to a suitor like that again, I will throw you out into the cold with the peasants to teach you some respect."

A cold fury started to burn within her, but it was met with an equally powerful urge to comply and obey him. Rachel absentmindedly started twirling the ring on her finger. The skin under it was itching again. Her fury fought with the compulsion to submit, and eventually her fury won out.

"No you won't!" Rachel said, standing up again. "How would your court react if they saw you throw your only daughter out into the cold? What would they think of you then? Who would ever want to marry into your family with a father as--"

He aimed another punch, but this time Rachel was expecting it. She dodged, only just avoiding the fist. Unfortunately, she didn't see his knee coming up at the same time. It collided with her chest and sent her over the edge of the platform. She landed on the stone floor and cried out in pain

Her father didn't seem to care.

He dropped down, grabbed her by the throat and hauled up into the air with one hand.

"Yes. I. Would." He said, and then dropped her.

She fell onto the stone floor for a second time, this time managing to land on her feet. She immediately took several steps back.

"Your behavior today has threatened to dishonor our family name." He continued while Rachel tried to catch her breath. "I have no problem purging those without honor from my family."

When Rachel finally caught her breath, she'd had enough. She started pulling heat from the all the nearby sources of fire to fuel her magic. That compulsion to obey fought her, but she pushed it aside.

"Foolish girl." Her father said, and abruptly all of the fires in the hall were completely drained of heat. He collected all the fire in his hand, then tossed it into the air above Rachel's head. From there it shot to the ground, forming a ten foot ring of fire around her. She was trapped. Furthermore, she couldn't pull the heat from the flames. She didn't know how, but he was preventing her from doing it.

"Listen closely." Lord Delmar said. "From this moment onward, you will cease your childish ways and obey my every command. Do I make myself clear?" The ring of fire contracted a little as if to emphasize the point.

Rachel could feel the heat of the flames just a few feet away. They were almost as tall as she was and hotter than any flames she'd ever felt before. She didn't think she would survive trying to jump through them. She could feel the compulsion to obey grow in strength.

Where was that coming from?

"I already do--" she started to say, but the ring of fire closed even more.

"Do I make myself clear?" he asked again.

Rachel was astounded at the display of magical power. Her mentor, the most powerful mage in the court, would have already exhausted his powers by now. Yet her father showed no signs of fatigue and the flames showed no sign of dying. If anything, they were getting hotter.

Rachel thought frantically. She knew that fire was weak to wind attacks, but she didn't think she could blow a portion of the fire out and get through before it closed again. Then she had an idea; a crazy, brilliant, dangerous idea.

She tapped her mana to grab all of the air within the circle of fire, plus the air outside of the circle opposite her father. The compulsion to obey fought her, but with a titanic effort she shifted all of the air molecules so they were pointing in the same direction. The blast of wind she created was powerful enough to lift her off her feet and throw her clear.

In hindsight, she might have overdone it.

The air blew a gap in the flames at the same time it blasted her off her feet and threw her several yards away from her father. She landed awkwardly, but -- thanks to her successfully begging the castle's sword master for lessons -- turned it into a roll and end up in a crouch. She didn't waste a single second; she turned around and started running for all she was worth.

Before she had taken two steps, she bounced off something solid.

She fell backward in slow motion. Her father was in front of her. It didn't make sense. How had he moved so fast? It just wasn't possible for someone to move that fast! She had thrown everything she knew at him and he had beaten her like a toddler challenging an Arena champion.

Rachel landed butt first on the stone floor.

Lord Delmar stood over her, his face dispassionate. There was no anger or fury. He didn't scream or yell. He didn't even look amused. He looked... disappointed. Her own father looked down his nose at her and uttered one word. Just one word, but it shattered her entire world.

"Pathetic."

Rachel felt tears well up in her eyes. He had always been stern, but never cruel. Before today, he had never hit her or said an unkind word to her, though his minions weren't so lucky. Her childhood had been strict, but Rachel could always tell that he disciplined her to help her improve. She thought he wanted the best for her.

Now she knew better.

She recognized that look in his eyes. It was the look he gave to soldiers and servants who had failed so badly that he didn't consider them useful anymore. The first time she saw that look, he had been gazing at a sword that had broken in practice. He had thrown the sword away without a second glance. He had discarded it like the useless tool it was. Later that day, the smith who forged it was exiled from the city.

He was looking at her that same way.

"Father, I--" Rachel started to say, but was stopped when the back of his hand smacked against her cheek. She felt the skin tear on one of his rings, probably his signet ring. He didn't hit her hard at all, but that single slap hurt more than breaking every bone in her body.

Something in her broke.

She could feel it.

She didn't know if it was her mind, her body or her spirit, but she felt it. She felt like an enormous hole had been carved out of her body, out of her soul. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if he had planned for this to happen. But it was a fleeting thought, quickly replaced by a profound sense of emptiness.

He still had that look of disappointment on his face.

She had seen that look on his face earlier when he had ordered that poor soldier to get out of his sight for failing to kill a dragon and a wood elf. She didn't want that. She didn't want to be sent away like some worthless person who had failed him.

The compulsion to obey prompted her to try and become useful again.

"I can prove myself." Rachel said, although now she couldn't meet his eyes and addressed her comments to the floor. "I'm not like that soldier who failed to kill the dragon and the elf. I'm better, I can do better."

"Can you?" Lord Delmar's tone left no doubt in Rachel's mind that he didn't think she could.

"Give me a chance and I won't let you down." Rachel said, though she wasn't entirely sure why. At that point, Rachel almost didn't even care.

"Very well." He said. "But you will get no head start, no advantage, and no special treatment. If you can kill the dragon and the elf before my other men do, then perhaps we can reconsider your position."

With that, Lord Delmar turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Rachel feeling like the floor had dropped out from under her life. Despite that, the compulsion whispered that everything would be okay again once she'd fulfilled her father's wishes. It seemed to blunt the force of those feelings, like they were coming from a long way off.

Rachel shook her head trying to clear it.

She didn't want to go dragon hunting. She hadn't meant to imply she would physically hunt them down, but that didn't matter because she had a mission now. She started considering the list of people in the castle she'd need to contact in order to find them.

In the back of her mind, Rachel knew that something was wrong with her. She didn't want to kill anyone, but she didn't have the emotional energy to fight that strange compulsion right now. The compulsion wanted her to please her father by killing the dragon and wood elf. The compulsion argued that all this soul-searching could wait until later.

Right now, she had a dragon to kill.

* * *

Alana felt like someone had used her entire body as a punching bag then strapped lead weights to her limbs and head. She was vaguely aware of being awake, but she just wanted to sleep. She kept her eyes closed and tried to fall back to sleep, but just couldn't do it.

She thought about opening her eyes, but that felt like too much work. So instead, she just listened. Judging by the noises, she was in a town somewhere. She could hear the clip-clop of horses, the squawking of chickens and the sounds of a busy marketplace.

How did she get here?

It slowly came back to her, her house burning, running from the soldiers with Ethan... Ethan! Despite the weariness and pain, Alana tried to struggle awake and up. She didn't succeed because her body just would not listen.

"Rest easy there little one." A deep voice said. She felt a warm hand touch her forehead.

"Unc... Garth?" Alana managed to say.

"Yes, it's me child. Now rest."

"Eth... than..." Alana managed to choke out. Her mouth was incredibly dry. A few drops of water dribbled onto her lips and she licked them up. Her mouth felt like a desert, but there was now a slow trickle of drops moistening it.

"The dragon is alive." Uncle Garth said. "Now relax, or all his work to save you will be undone."

Alana relaxed and the flow of water stopped. Uncle Garth had always been her favorite uncle and he had never lied to her. If he said Ethan was okay, then he would live. Oddly, just the strain of trying to sit up felt like a lot of work. She was tired now, and closed her eyes.

Sleep took her quickly.

* * *

When Alana awoke again, she felt much better. While her limbs still felt like lead weights, she could at least move them. She allowed herself a few more minutes of dozing before she opened her eyes.

She was in a small room built in the typical town style. She could see the exposed beams and there was a simple iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She turned her head and saw the room was simply furnished -- a rough wooden table and a few dried stumps for chairs. Uncle Garth was sitting in one and leaning against the wall, snoring quietly

There was one other bed beside hers, and Ethan was asleep on it. Or rather, he was mostly on it. His tail hung over the end of the bed and his wings -- normally held so close they seemed to disappear into his body -- were hanging off both sides. He looked okay, but his breathing seemed shallow; not dangerously so, but he didn't look in the best of health.

Alana looked under the covers and discovered she was still wearing her green dress. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The motion made the bed creak and Garth snapped awake at the noise.

"Iswearit'srealsilver." He blurted out as he woke. He blinked for a few moments, then saw Alana awake and smiled. He got up and handed her a glass of water, which she promptly swallowed in one go.

"Welcome back to the living, Alana dragon-bride."

"It's good to be-" She smiled, then stopped as his words sank in. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

"Alana dragon-bride."

"Now wait just a second. I hope you don't think that... I mean, I didn't mean to... We are definitely not married."

"You didn't share your deep mana with him?" Garth asked. "Or perhaps you didn't know what that means to an elf?"

"Of course I know what it means, but I only did it so save his life."

"You used so much it brought you to the brink of death little one. When the dragon found out, he shared his own deep mana with you to save your life. You both nearly died because of how inexperienced he was in sharing mana, but I was there when he did it. I felt the bond form between you."

"Yes, but..." Alana couldn't think of anything to say. Among elves, vows were merely a formality that weren't always included in a wedding. The sharing of deep mana tied two elves together more deeply than any vow could. Since no one could force an elf to share deep mana, the act itself was considered a vow.

"Is the beast unworthy?" Garth asked.

"He's..." Alana hesitated. If she answered his question honestly, she would confirm it in his mind. She sighed. "He's worthy, I think. He saved my life and put his own in jeopardy to keep me safe. I even told him to run, but he wouldn't. That's why he got shot."

"So, you saved each other's lives, shared an adventure, and then shared your deep mana."

Alana nodded.

Garth got up from his seat, walked over to sit down beside her and put his arm around her. Alana promptly laid her head on his shoulder.

"Be happy Alana dragon-bride. You found a mate early in life and among a race as long lived as yours. Can you feel him through your bond?"

Alana closed her eyes. Her mother always said bonding with her father was like having a piece of him residing in her mind and heart. She said she could sense him when he was close and even sense his mood. Alana hadn't believed it at the time and had dismissed it as romantic exaggeration.

Now she started to reconsider.

She could feel something in her mind, something that definitely wasn't there before. It was a vague, nebulous feeling, like trying to describe a dream as it was fading. It was there, but didn't seem to have much substance.

"I can sort of feel him." She said. "But it's like he's far away or not quite here."

"The bond will strengthen over time." Uncle Garth nodded, then added with a wink, "It will get much stronger once he beds you."

"Uncle Garth!" Alana sat up straight as her face went bright red and she slapped him on the shoulder. "I am NOT going to bed Ethan, he's a dragon for pity's sake."

"We both know there aren't any female dragons and they need other races to breed." He smirked. "Besides, if the stories are true you'll be singing a different tune once you've tried him on for size — or should I say 'in' for size."

Alana punched him in the shoulder again, and then curiosity got the best of her. "What stories?"

"You haven't heard?" Garth asked. "Well, far be it from me to spoil your wedding night, little one."

"There won't be a wedding night." Alana said through clenched teeth.

"Then there's no reason for you to hear the stories is there?" He said with a wink. "Pretend I never said a word."

Alana opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Uncle Garth was a terrible tease and asking more questions about dragon stories would only egg him on.

Alana couldn't help but wonder though... Did dragons have some kind of special ability in the bedroom? Was it an old wives' tale? Or was she in for a treat if she and Ethan ever— Nope. She cut off that line of reasoning right there and refused to think about it any further.

There were a few moments of silence, which were interrupted by her stomach rumbling.

"I'll get some food for you." Garth said, standing up and walking through the door.

His head popped back in a moment later. "You need to get something warm inside you."

"Oh. Stop it!" Alana said, her face going bright pink again.

Garth guffawed, and then left.

Alana yawned and stretched, and then closed her eyes and checked her mana. As she had expected, she was running on empty. Her deep mana seemed to be mostly replenished though. She groaned -- she hated collecting mana in town. It was so much harder than doing it in the forest. She couldn't understand how some people thrived in the lifeless towns without greenery.

With a sigh, she reached out and started drawing the mana around her. To her surprise, it was much easier than it had ever been before. It was just as easy as in the forest, and possibly even slightly easier. She tried to relax and let the mana flow into her, but the ease with which she was drawing it in made her uncomfortable.

Uncle Garth returned ten minutes later. Alana had collected more mana than she thought possible in such a short time. Her mana was far from full, but the last time she had been in town it would've taken ten times that long to collect as much as she had. Even in her forest, it would've taken longer. Furthermore, she had had an easier time collecting it than ever before. While it was certainly convenient, the difference was unsettling.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Garth handed Alana a bowl of thick and hearty soup, chunks of vegetables floated in the bowl and it smelled heavenly.

"How hard is it for you to collect mana here?" she asked, then took a spoonful of her soup. It was quite good.

"About as hard as any other time. Why?"

Alana swallowed before answering. "Because I just refilled it faster here than in the forest."

"By Illuminar's light..." Garth's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Are you sure?"

Alana nodded. "Positive. Even in the forest I couldn't do it quite this fast."

Garth looked pensive for a few moments, and then glanced over at Ethan's sleeping form. "I did warn him there could be side effects."

"Side effects?" Alana asked after another mouthful of soup. "What kind of side effects?"

"That's just it, I don't know. I've never heard of an elf bonding with a dragon before. For that matter, I've never heard of a dragon bonding with anyone before. I mean, there's always been a rumor that Ithlan held dozens of women enthralled, but I dismissed those as old wives' tales not worth considering. And besides, there are a lot of rumors that surround our first emperor which are clearly false."

Alana nodded and took another spoonful. Emperor Ithlan was a confusing topic in history and there were as many anecdotes and opinions about him as there were people. About the only thing that everyone agreed on was that he was a dragon.

"So, you don't know what kind of side effects there could be?" Alana asked. "I mean, if it's just a matter of being able to collect mana more easily, then I could live with that."

"Hmm." Garth stroked his beard with his hand. "I did notice that the dragon seemed to do better when you were around."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been out for almost a week."

"A whole week!" Alana sat up in alarm. "I'll miss the staff buyer."

"Relax, little one." Garth said. "I found the staves near where I found you. Since you were unconscious, I met with your buyer, explained the situation and even got a few extra sympathy coppers because you were feeling ill." Garth reached down, pulled her coin purse out of his bag and set it down on the bed next to her. It was considerably fuller than when she had last seen it.

"I couldn't sell two of them though." He said. "They had a few scuffs and if I'm not mistaken dragon claw marks, so he passed on them. They're both in great shape otherwise though, so maybe you can sell them at a second-hand market."

"Oh, thank you." She let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. That was all the money she had for the foreseeable future. "But I interrupted you, what were you saying?"

Garth continued, "After the dragon gave you most of his deep mana, I returned him to his tent. Neither of you was doing very well, and I wasn't sure either of you would make it. Then we broke camp and I put you both in the same wagon while we were traveling. When you got close to each other, you both started doing better. That night when we made camp, I put you in separate tents and your conditions worsened again. In hindsight, it got worse whenever you two were separated."

"Really?"

Garth nodded. "I put you both in the same tent later that night and both of you improved. That's why you're in the same room now. Honestly, if you had been separated I'm not sure either of you would have survived."

"You mean I'm going to be stuck with him forever?" Alana asked. She liked him well enough, but perhaps not that much.

"I doubt it. That's only because you were wounded. But the closer you two were, the faster you both seemed to replenish your deep mana. Once the dragon is well again, I'm sure you can go your own way."

"That dragon does have a name." She said.

"Protective of your husband?" he asked with wink.

Alana felt her cheeks go slightly pink. "No, I meant he has a name and you could use it."

"Fine, you can leave Ethan when he wakes up." He was trying to be casual about it, but Alana could tell he was watching for her reaction intently.

When she didn't take the bait he changed the topic. "So what will you do now?"

"With the staff farm gone, I have no idea."

"You could travel with us for a while. You have a sharp mind and I've got a few things you could do while you're with the caravan."

"I appreciate it Uncle Garth, but no. I would barely pull my own weight and I really don't want to freeload. I need to figure out what to do with my life." Alana thought for a moment then added, "Are there any orphanages near here?"

He chuckled. "Not that I know of, why?"

She shook her head. "Just something that Ethan said."

"You could always go home little one."

"The staff grove and my house have been destroyed."

"That's not the home I was referring to." Garth said quietly.

"Oh." Alana replied. "You know that's not a good idea."

He nodded. "I'm just saying you could consider it. And you should tell your husband about it too."

Alana sighed. "There's no reason he needs to know. Besides, everybody always changes how they treat me when they find out and Ethan... well, I like things the way they are."

"Okay."

Outside the window, Alana could hear a commotion. She turned to her uncle. "Did something happen?"

Garth nodded. "The Bank owner's children were kidnapped about an hour ago. The news is all over town. He's so concerned he has already put out a contract bounty for their safe return."

"Contract bounty?" Alana asked.

"It's a stronger version of a regular bounty." He said. "He's contractually obligated to pay and the person who saves them is contractually obligated to accept the reward."

"Oh." Alana looked out the window and found herself wishing she could help them, but didn't see how. She looked over at Ethan and wondered what he would do.

"He will probably wake this evening or early tomorrow morning." Garth said.

"We have some time then." Alana smiled. "So what's new with your family?"

* * *

Ethan was pretty sure he was dreaming.

He was in the middle of a large battlefield covered in the bodies of dead soldiers. They were all wearing dark armor with the image of a stylized dragon on the chest piece. The stench was unbelievable. The foul odor of decaying bodies mixed with the congealed blood and excrement rose to the heavens, acting as a beacon for the vultures circling overhead.

All around the battlefield, small fires were burning and thick smoke rose into the air. It was daytime, but the clouds were so thick it was impossible to see the sky. The smoke, combined with the light from the fires, bathed the entire battlefield in a red hue.

A black dragon stood in front of him. The dragon's scales glinted in the firelight and his teeth looked like they could rip through steel. He was holding a wicked-looking mace in one hand and a kite shield in the other. Crouched in a predatory stance, his muscles were primed and his eyes spoke only of pain and death.

Ethan was holding a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, but he felt woefully ill-equipped to fight this ebony beast. Ethan could feel the magic rolling off his opponent in waves. The sheer amount of power was staggering. Ethan held the black dragon's gaze. If looks could kill, he would've died on the spot.

Without warning, the black dragon charged.

Ethan brought up his shield to defend himself, but was barely in time to block the blow. The black dragon moved faster than anything Ethan had ever seen, and he knew he was hopelessly outmatched. In a few seconds, he had lost his spear, his shield was broken and he had been knocked to the ground and pinned there. The black dragon raised his mace high above his head, and brought it whistling down at Ethan's face.

"Aaa!" He screamed.

He was ripped from the dream back into the real world a split second before the mace landed. Ethan flipped into a low crouch and growled, primed and ready for a fight.

"Well, he's awake anyway." Said Alana laughing.

It took Ethan a few seconds to get his bearings. He was in a small room with two beds. The style reminded him of an English Tudor style home, simply furnished with a rough wooden table and a few dried stumps for chairs. Alana and Garthildur were sitting at the table talking. Or rather it looked like they had been talking. Right now they were both staring at him with almost identical amused expressions.

Ethan slowly relaxed. "Sorry, I was... Sorry."

"It's okay." Alana said. "I needed a heart attack anyway."

He chuckled. "My pleasure."

Garthildur gave Alana a look. She turned slightly pink, but ignored him.

"What had you so riled up?" she asked.

"Bad dream." Ethan related his dream to them. Garthildur leaned back in his seat and made a thoughtful sound.

"There are rumors that Lord Delmar works with a black dragon." Alana said. "Some even say the black dragon gave him part of his power."

"Great, a lord and a dragon." Ethan looked at her. "Don't we just have the best luck?"

She nodded and then turned to Garthildur. "Do you know anything that could help?"

"I'll ask around with some of my contacts." He replied as he rose. "The room is paid up for the rest of the week. But I've already tarried too long and the caravan needs to leave before daybreak or I'll break a few appointments. Best of luck to you Alana dragon-bride."

Alana got to her feet and hugged him. Garthildur nodded respectfully to Ethan, and then he left.

"Dragon-bride?" Ethan asked when Garthildur had left.

"You heard that?" Alana asked, her cheeks slightly more pink than he was used to seeing. "We shared deep mana and bonded, which in the Elven culture means we're married."

Ethan grimaced. "I was happy to save your life, but I wasn't planning to get hitched."

"Unfortunately, Elven culture is pretty clear on that point and Uncle Garth already told the rest of the camp. I have a bit of a name for making a good magical staff, and my family..." She shook her head. "Gossip follows them like ugly follows an ogre. So basically, this will be spread across the Elven realms faster than the falcon dives."

"So, we're married?" out of habit, Ethan ran his hand over his head where his hair used to be as he considered the idea. "I mean you're nice and you saved my life, plus you're not exactly hard on the eyes, but..."

Alana cocked her head to one side. "Hard on the eyes?"

"It's slang from my world." He hesitated before continuing. "It means you... It means you're attractive."

"Oh." She smiled after a moment. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, are we married?"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe?" Ethan repeated. It seemed just a few hours ago that his fiancé had left him for his best friend and stolen the business he spent his whole adult life building. He liked Alana, but he wasn't ready for trying that kind of relationship again so soon.

"Perhaps, it depends on who you ask." She said. "Any elf will definitely say yes and if we were both Elves, the answer would definitely be yes. However, you're not an elf and there were no vows, so many of the other cultures aren't as clear. They do recognize Elven weddings though. Not that I want to, of course, but I suppose we could consider ourselves married."

"No offense, but I'm not sure I want to be married to you." Ethan said. He wasn't sure, but he thought a flicker of disappointment crossed her face for the briefest moment.

He quickly added, "I mean, you're a great girl and all that, but we've only know each other for... What? Two days? Three days?"

"Just over a week." She said, working it out. "We were recovering for almost that long."

"Right. Well, I just meant we don't know each other very well yet, right?"

"I agree." She nodded, though she didn't seem perfectly sincere. "No offense, but I don't want to be tied to you for the rest of my life just because I saved your life."

"Ditto." Ethan said.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he asked, "So what now?"

"I don't know." Alana said. "I had my life pretty well planned out until Hermair burned down my farm."

"My life was also well planned out until recently too, so I know the feeling." He nodded.

They were both quiet for a moment. Ethan noticed something in the silence. In the back of his mind, he could feel a little trepidation mixed with excitement. It was a small and subtle thing that he probably would've missed if they weren't both silent. He didn't feel that way, but he could feel those emotion were present somehow.

"Hmm." Ethan grunted.

"What?"

"I just felt a little..." He cocked his head to one side. "Were you feeling a little nervous mixed with some excitement a few seconds ago?"

Alana narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Because I felt those emotions, but they weren't coming from me." Ethan replied. "They were sort of vague and nebulous. Like they were there, but weren't there at the same time."

"Illuminar save us." Alana sighed and put her head in her hands. "It's our bond."

"I wondered. Who's Illuminar?"

"You don't know of God in your world?" Her mouth fell open like such a thing was beyond comprehension.

"Of course we do, we just have a different name for him." Ethan replied, and then to change the subject, added, "Can you sense what I'm feeling?"

Alana closed her eyes for a moment before answering. "Curious and slightly concerned?"

"Pretty much." Ethan said. "So this bond thing is real then."

Alana nodded.

"Is there any way to break it?"

"As far as I know, these bonds are unbreakable. They might get weaker with time and distance, but they never go away until you die. What concerns me more is how fast it's growing."

"Oh?"

"Yes. My mother said it took months for her to be able to sense my father's emotions. We've been bonded for less than a week."

"That's..."

"Strange?" Alana offered.

"Hey, this whole thing is strange." Ethan said. "Remember, I come from a place without magic. The whole idea of dragons, elves, magic and now these bonds is a little overwhelming."

She ran her hands through her rich, chocolate brown hair. "You forgot being hunted by dragon slayers and getting semi-married to a wood elf. I can see how that would all be a bit much."

He laughed. "Semi-married -- strange world we live in, isn't it?"

Alana nodded.

"Here's the way I see it." He said. "Either we split up and let this bond weaken over time, or we stick together and figure out what to do with it. Thoughts?"

"No offense, but I don't fancy your chances if we split up." Alana said, spreading her hands. "Lord Delmar is pretty much insane and doesn't let up once he's put his mind to something. At least, that's his reputation. Without some help, I think he'll find you fairly quickly."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "Besides, I was a little lonely all by myself in the forest. You may be ugly, but you're not bad company." She finished with a grin.

Ethan couldn't help but notice that she had a great smile.

He nodded his agreement. "Also, when word of that whole dragon-bride thing gets out, this Lord Delmar might come looking for you to get to me. It might be safer to stick together."

"I hadn't thought of that." She said. "But you're right."

He stuck out his hand. "Partners?"

Alana looked at his hand for a few moments. Again, Ethan felt some excitement mixed with trepidation from her.

After a few moments she asked, "Why are you sticking out your hand like that?"

"It's how we seal a deal where I come from." He explained.

"So, you say hello and seal deals the same way?" She cocked her head to one side. "That's strange."

"I never really thought about it, but yeah it is." Ethan said. He kept his hand out, and Alana stuck out hers in return. He shook it carefully.

"Partners?" He asked again.

"Partners." Alana replied, nodding. "So what happens now?"

"I need to be a better fighter." He said. "I wasn't useless, but when they come for us I want to be ready."

"Then you need gold -- lots of gold. If you can get a large enough hoard, you can start enchanting your body to be stronger and faster. You can also make your scales harder and tougher so weapons won't pierce them easily. They don't make armor for dragons, and enchantments will be better in the end anyway."

"I can feel some gold in that bag." Ethan pointed to her coin purse. "But I'm guessing I'll need a lot more."

"Definitely. Remember how big Drousin's stash was? Something that size would be better."

"You don't have a massive pile of gold just lying around do you?"

Alana laughed and held up her coin purse. "I'm afraid this is it."

"Hmm." Ethan said. "Well, working to get it will take too long. Stealing isn't an option for obvious reasons, and I really don't fancy my chances against a dragon like Drousin right now."

He closed his eyes, trying to think. He turned his mind towards gold and -- to his surprise -- now that he was paying attention, he felt something on the edges of his mind. He could feel the gold in Alana's coin purse. He didn't know how, but he could. The metal was strong, brimming with energy and he could feel its energy slowly flowing towards him in a trickle. It felt good, but it was only a trickle. He needed a flood.

He relaxed and tried to feel other gold nearby. He could feel the odd bit of jewelry or coin back and forth in people's pockets or on their persons, but there really wasn't much at all.

That's when he felt it.

It was at the edge of his perception, but it was there. It was far away, but it was massive. It was a pile of gold so large, it rivaled even Drousin's hoard. Unlike Alana's coins, it wasn't strong or brimming with energy. He could feel all that gold just laying there cold a lifeless waiting for... He wasn't sure what, but he knew if he got close enough he could bring the gold to life. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew.

"There's a massive pile of gold not far away." He said finally, turning his attention back to her.

"Dragons are excellent at finding it." Alana smiled. "And that's the vault at The Bank, but I could've told you that."

"The bank?"

"Yes. It's so large it doesn't even need a name. They just call it 'The Bank'. It's said that the vaults have enough gold in them to rival a dragon's hoard."

"The stories are true." He frowned as something occurred to him. "I don't need to own the gold do I? I just need to be near it, right?"

Alana nodded. "According to my conversations with Drousin, you just need to be near it. Why?"

Ethan looked towards the bank. He obviously couldn't see through the wall, but now that he was aware of the gold, it was almost impossible not to think of it. He found a part of himself coveting the gold. Suddenly, the threat of Lord Delmar didn't seem as important anymore. Nothing seemed very important except for that gold...

"Oh." Alana said, catching onto his train of thought. "Oh, that's brilliant."

He shook his head to bring himself out of his reverie. "Are they hiring?"

"The bank? No." She replied. "It's harder to get a job there than in the king's palace. Although..."

"What?" Ethan asked.

"Uncle Garth told me that the bank owner's two children were kidnapped a few days ago. He's offering 50 gold each for their safe return. Plus you can marry his daughter if save her and if you save the son, he's promised the rescuer a job at the bank."

"That's..." Ethan couldn't think of the right word for a moment. "Convenient. A little too convenient if you ask me."

"It gets even more convenient." Alana said. "The kidnappers are rumored to be hiding out in my forest."

"That's... Strange." Ethan stood up and started pacing. "I mean on the surface it sounds like a perfect answer. Rescue the kids and get access to a ton of gold. And it's in your forest so we'd even have home field advantage. But we have a saying were we come from: 'if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is'. I think this qualifies"

"We have a similar saying here. So it's a trap?"

"You think Lord Delmar is that devious?" Ethan wasn't sure he cared very much. The thought of being near that much gold was almost intoxicating.

"He definitely is." Alana furrowed her brow and stroked her chin. "But Hermair isn't, and since he's Lord Delmar's lieutenant I would bet he's leading the search. But he's not that clever. Have you made any other enemies since coming here?"

"Not that I know of."

"Maybe it's just a coincidence?" Judging by her tone, she didn't believe it was either.

"Coincidences usually take a lot of planning." Ethan replied. "If this is a trap, then whoever planned it is pretty devious. Do we have any other options?"

"Not that I can think of." Alana said, tapping her chin with a forefinger as she thought. "We could try a few palaces or other banks, but most people aren't much in favor of letting dragons anywhere near their gold. However, by reputation, the bank owner here is honorable to a fault and if he promised a job to whoever rescued his son, they'll get the job."

"But getting into a fight as we are now..." Ethan grimaced. "We could run. I hate the idea, but we could go far enough away that they won't find us." The moment he said it, he was sure he couldn't run. He couldn't stand the idea of not being near that gold.

Alana shook her head. "You don't understand how fanatical Lord Delmar is. He'll have his men pursue us until we're dead, no matter where we go. I don't want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life."

"So, rescuing kids from kidnappers it is then." He said, though his mind was firmly on the gold. "We're going to need weapons."

"I have my bow and Uncle Garth left me some arrows." She said. "I know it doesn't look like much, but the bow is enchanted and packs more punch than you might think. For you though..."

"Sword?" Ethan suggested.

Alana shook her head. "A good quality sword is expensive and it would be hard to use when you are flying. How about a spear instead? I still have my father's old spear in the storage pit near the house. We can pick it up on our way to rescue the children."

"I suppose that would work better if I was flying. It would give me enough reach that I wouldn't need to expose myself to attack."

"Okay, then we're all set except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"About a dozen men left to find the kidnappers a few hours ago, and they had horses." She said.

"And we don't." Said Ethan. "Any ideas?"

Alana looked at him, and then shifted her gaze to look just behind him. He looked back and saw his wing claw peeking up over his shoulder.

Her face took on a mischievous smile. "I do have one."

"No way." Ethan shook his head.

"It's the only way we'll beat them there." She urged. "They have horses and a head start. We are already behind in this race and would have to walk."

"You saw me trying to fly after we escaped the forest." Ethan said with an exasperated sigh. "I was terrible. There's no way I could fly us both there in time. Besides, I can barely keep myself aloft -- so what makes you think I could carry you too?"

"I'm a wood elf." She said, standing up to emphasize her five feet of height and slender body. "I don't weigh much and Uncle Garth finally remembered to return my weight reduction necklace. Wearing it, I'll probably weigh only a tenth of my normal weight. "

Ethan remembered the elf at Garthildur's camp using the amulet to allow him to carry a horse on his shoulders. "I suppose that could work, if I could learn to fly.

"You can practice outside of town. We can circle around the mountain until we're out of sight."

"Would that even allow me to get ahead of them?"

She laughed. "I doubt those mercenaries could travel more than ten leagues a day on horseback. You can fly that far in an hour. You could probably go even faster with practice."

Ethan hesitated, so Alana continued, "Think of the banker's children. They do need rescuing and we can get there faster than anyone else."

"Okay." He said, accepting her argument. "But then I need to get in some serious flying practice before I try to carry you. And speaking of that, how am I going to leave without the entire town knowing there's a dragon here."

That thought brought something else to mind. "And how did Garthildur get me into this room without anyone seeing me?

"With this." Alana produced a necklace with a small green gemstone from her satchel. "It's enchanted to create a disguise for the wearer. It can make you look like a different race or person, though only the rarest and most powerful ones can copy a someone else's appearance."

She rose from her stump seat and handed it to Ethan. It was rather pretty, and it almost looked as if there was a light inside the stone.

"I thought you could only enchant things that were once alive?" he queried, looking at the small gemstone.

"I keep forgetting you come from a place without magic. Golems, elementals and gargoyles are made from stone and are alive. They eat gemstones like candy and channel mana through them as they digest them, allowing the gemstones to hold an enchantment when they come out the other end.

"Oh." It made sense, but the concept was a little hard to wrap his mind around. "So, they're made of living stone?"

She nodded. "Some people hunt them to harvest the stone because it can be enchanted. As you can imagine, something made from enchanted stone is very hard to breach."

Ethan grimaced then looked down at the disguise gem. "How does it work?"

"Focus a tiny bit of mana at the gem with a general idea of what you want to look like, and it'll do the rest." Alana said.

He put the necklace on, although it took a bit of doing to get it around his horns. He was almost completely out of mana, but he directed a tiny little bit into the stone and thought about looking like an average, normal man. The stone glowed for a moment, and then dimmed again. Around Ethan's hand, he saw a vague, semi-transparent outline of a human hand. His other limbs also had the same gossamer outline.

Alana squeaked, turned bright red, and averted her eyes.

Ethan looked down to see the outline didn't include any clothes. His rather impressive dragon-sized equipment was still concealed, but the ghostly human equipment wasn't. His human cock was roughly the same size as his dragon's, but still somewhat transparent.

"Sorry." He said. He focused a tiny bit of mana at the gem again, this time thinking of a man with clothing typical for the area. Again, the stone glowed for a moment then faded. This time the ghostly outline included some rough pants, shirt and shoes.

"I'm decent."

Alana peeked with one eye and then uncovered the other. There was an awkward moment of silence for several seconds. That's when Ethan noticed the part of his mind that showed her emotions via their bond. She was simultaneously extremely embarrassed and a tiny bit curious.

"Something you wanted to ask about?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm good. Let's just forget it happened."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Stupid bond." She muttered. "Okay, I'm curious but I'm not going to ask so let's just forget about it."

"Okay." He said, although he couldn't help but smile. Alana shook her head as if trying to clear it. He figured he would spare her any more embarrassment by changing the topic.

"Why can I see through the disguise?" he asked.

"Because the spell is designed that way." Alana replied. "The real question is: why can I see through it?"

"Our bond?" Ethan suggested.

"Probably, though only the user is supposed to be able to see through it."