No one expected Blight to die so suddenly, the heir gone in such a fleeting moment.
Blight's funeral proceeded as scheduled, attracting officials from across the kingdom who seized the rare social occasion to gather. Without any display of rudeness, they expressed their surprise at the turn of events with simple pleasantries before breaking off into groups, no longer speaking of Blight's demise.
Smolder observed these reactions, finding them exaggerated. Many among them had shown respect to Blight, claiming to be his friends, but with his death, no one seemed to care about the person Blight had been. Smolder couldn't comprehend this.
As Blight was laid to rest, the crowd swiftly dispersed, losing interest in the grave that held what used to be a person.
Smolder stood quietly at Blight's tomb for three days and nights, unmoved even by a heavy rain.
"Time to leave," a somewhat familiar voice spoke from Smolder's left, its tone complex.
Turning, Smolder saw the Duke's steward.
Years had passed, and the steward had aged, becoming a figure Smolder recognized though they weren't close.
The steward's gaze at Smolder was mixed. He had never liked the red dragon, but since Smolder hadn't done anything to displease him, the cunning steward had never troubled Smolder.
"Come with me," the steward beckoned, patting Smolder.
After Blight's incident, initial investigations, filled with fire traces, had led some dragon detractors to absurdly claim, "Blight was killed by Smolder," demanding immediate execution. However, a thorough investigation soon dismissed such notions, and everyone accepted Smolder's account.
Duke Bronn seemed to age overnight in the days following, secluding himself, inaccessible to all.
Silently, Smolder followed the steward back to the Duke's estate, ignoring the petty slanderers and heading to its quarters.
"I think I should leave. Staying here serves no purpose," Smolder suddenly declared.
The steward wasn't surprised, agreeing it was the best decision, "Before you leave, let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you," Smolder responded, then entered its room.
Surveying the room it had lived in for over a decade, Smolder requested, "Could you exchange these silver and copper coins for gold?"
"Of course, I'll have someone count them," the steward easily agreed.
Besides the coin bed, Smolder cared little for most belongings. It approached a golden helmet and scattered armor pieces crafted for it by Prince Blight, previously neglected due to inconvenience.
Fitting the helmet snugly over its head, Smolder adorned the armor, enhancing its majestic appearance.
Soon, servants, including the head guard Dans, came to count the coins.
"Here are your saddlebags," Dans offered, "Need help attaching them?"
"Much appreciated," Smolder nodded.
Carefully, Smolder placed its entire wealth of 326 gold coins into one saddlebag, with miscellaneous items in the other. Thus adorned in half armor and saddlebags, Smolder left the Duke's estate after more than a decade.
Wandering the familiar streets, Smolder felt a pang of aimlessness. Heading to Dragon Island seemed the right choice, but its distance posed a challenge. As the saying goes, "A red dragon in water is less than a chicken."
Lost in thought, a voice offered, "Lord Smolder, our master invites you to visit."
Turning, Smolder faced a politely dressed servant, inquiring, "And your master is?"
"Lord Hils," the servant replied respectfully.
"Oh," Smolder's interest piqued, "Lead the way."
Though unfamiliar with Lord Hils personally, Smolder recognized the name and eagerly followed to the noble's estate. "Lord Smolder, Lord Hils awaits you in the garden to the right," the servant informed before departing.
Entering the garden, Smolder greeted, "Lord Hils," with a dragon's courtesy.
A gigantic golden dragon, nearly ten times Smolder's size, basked in the sunlight, its scales outshining gold itself - the guardian dragon of Lorisque, Lord Hils.
Hils returned the gesture, getting straight to the point, "Young dragon Smolder, what are your plans?"
Dragons, being rare, tend to treat each other kindly when they meet.
"Um... I'm somewhat lost. I seek your guidance," Smolder confessed.
Hils shared, "I'm tied up with some matters, or else I'd take you to Dragon Island. You're welcome to stay here until I can escort you."
"Thank you, elder," Smolder expressed its gratitude, its fiery aura subtly leaking.
"And how long might that be?" Smolder inquired further.
"At least a few years. I'm researching a new spell and need several materials...," Hils trailed off, caught up in his explanation.
After a pause, Smolder asked, "Do you know a spell for growing wings?"
Hils laughed, "There's no such spell, but the elders on Dragon Island might have a method or a magical artifact to help."
"Is there another way to reach Dragon Island?" Smolder pursued.
"Yes, seek other dragons; they'd likely be happy to assist. The nearest is the blue dragon Vilas in the Kote Empire. He's probably free."
Apologizing for his inability to assist immediately, Hils offered three of his scales for Smolder's protection, which Smolder gratefully accepted, noting their size matched his own.
Thus, with new purpose and Hils' scales in tow, Smolder prepared to venture beyond the city for the first time in over a decade, seeking a path to Dragon Island and perhaps, a way to gain the wings it so deeply desired.