The Dragon Knight.
Damara stood dumbfounded, as though she had lost her voice again.
So cordial…
He doesn’t hate me after all?
The saddled female dragon stepped up from behind him, gazing at Damara in a friendly way. “My name’s Rosefinch,” she rumbled, brown scales rippling over solid, able muscles. The color of her belly plating was a soft, flowery pink.
Damara forced her parched-dry mouth to work. “Hello,” she managed quietly.
“Damara, look!” Faren was suddenly there, beaming as she held something out. “She matches your ring!”
Damara was startled at first, then gawked as she realized what the child was holding- a marble white wyvern with beady red eyes.
It can’t be! She nearly forgot the Dragon Knight’s presence as she gaped at the whimsical creature. I saw you attacked by a falcon! How are you still alive?!
The wyvern turned her head and gave her a one-eyed stare, just like a hawk. “Do you remember me?” it asked in perfect imitation of Damara’s younger voice.
“I don’t believe it,” she uttered.
“Take her!” Faren offered, practically forcing the winged monigon into Damara’s shaking arms.
Damara held the wyvern in loosely cupped hands, still goggling like an idiot. Most of the creature’s body was limp in her grasp, as though it couldn’t move.
“She’s crippled?” Damara asked, dazed.
“Half of her, yes. Ever since she was attacked,” the Dragon Knight, Tyrone, said. Damara stared up at him, overwhelmed by shock. “It’s a miracle my sister even found her.”
Kara snorted. “No, it’s just that that wyvern of yours is outrageously intelligent.” She turned to Damara. “I just happened to be walking nearby when I heard Tyrone whistling for his horse. But I knew it couldn’t be him, so I followed the sound to find that it was just her, lying there injured.” Kara gestured to the creature in Damara’s hands, shaking her head as though she still couldn’t believe it. “She sounded just like him.”
“What’s her name?” Damara asked, her mouth dry.
“Ivory,” Tyrone answered her with a smile. “My father gave her to me when I was a lad.”
“Except, she was much different then,” Kara grunted.
The corner of Tyrone’s mouth lifted. “Yes, that’s right. She used to be a bird.”
“A bird?” Faren chirped.
“A hunting falcon, to be exact,” Tyrone replied. He grinned, asking his sister, “Remember our surprise when she flew off, only to come back again clad in scales? You couldn’t believe that she was still the same animal.”
Kara gave a warm laugh. “Could you?” she asked. “It’s amazing what that little firesap fruit can do to things.”
“Tyrone, look!” Faren piped up, spreading her arms wide. “I’m all better now!”
The man smiled at her. “I can see that,” he said.
“Now you can take me to my family- like you promised!” the child declared.
Damara perked up with interest.
Faren’s family is alive? Where are they?
Tyrone handed his knight’s helm off to his sister. “That’s right,” he told Faren. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to wait a little longer for Damara to recover.”
Damara stiffened with surprise as she saw Tyrone’s gaze settle on her bandaged calf. What does he mean? she puzzled, embarrassment suddenly winning over the pain in her leg. Why should they wait for me?
“I packed all the food for the refugees,” Kara told her younger brother. “Maybe Rosefinch could fly it over tomorrow?” She redirected her eyes to the dragon that stood there.
“Of course,” Rosefinch purred. “Just load me in the morning and I’ll take it all over.”
“Very good,” Tyrone agreed, passing a hand over his tired face. “That should lift the people’s spirits.”
Defending the towns and taking care of a refugee camp? Damara was astounded, staring up at the man. How does he manage?
“Alright,” Kara said, clapping her hands together.
Ivory imitated the sound impeccably, proving that her parroting skills went well beyond just voices. Damara thought the wyvern looked smug, resting limp in her palms.
“Let’s get inside where the fire is,” Kara decided, leading the group back to the house. Damara let everyone pass her, standing awkwardly with Ivory in her hands before hobbling after them.
Rosefinch stepped aside to let her into the house but she lingered in the doorway, hesitant to enter.
“Can I help you with anything?” Tyrone asked his sister inside the warm home.
“Yeah, you can stop working yourself so hard,” Kara grumbled, setting his helmet down on the table top. “I swear, you’ll run yourself into the ground going on like this.”
Tyrone smiled, fatigue creasing his charming face. “I’ve missed you,” he told her, reaching out to embrace her.
“Oh no, not with that armor,” the large woman refused, pushing him away all in good humor. “Hugging you is far too uncomfortable. I told you that already!”
Rosefinch laughed in Damara’s ear, nearly making her drop the flightless wyvern on the ground. Faren’s sparkling eyes turned to the doorway and she giggled.
Damara watched Kara and her brother with a tinge of sadness as she thought of Xander.
I used to slip out of his embrace, too.
Why was I so cold to him?
“Here, Ty. Let me take that armor off your chest,” Kara insisted, reaching to help him out of his metal breastplate. “This is your home, not a battlefield.”
Damara simpered to herself as she saw Faren cautiously poke the knight’s helm. The child whipped her head around as soon as she touched it, clearly wondering if she’d been caught. But neither Tyrone nor Kara paid her any mind as they slowly got each metal plate off of Tyrone, piling them up near the stove.
“When did you last eat?” Kara asked suspiciously as they finally got Tyrone down to a mere tunic and leggings.
Tyrone scratched his chin. “Um…” he droned, but came up with no answer.
“Ty, for shame!” his sister scolded him, rushing to ladle out a bowl of stew. “Now sit here until you finish this, you hear me?” She pointed at a chair, placing the bowl and an entire loaf of bread on the table.
Tyrone grinned reluctantly, sitting down to eat. He looked up from his food at Damara, where she still lingered in the doorway.
“Please, come and sit,” he requested of her, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Have you eaten yet?”
Kara snorted. “You think I’d let my guest go without food?” she huffed, bustling about to build up the fire in the stove. “Don’t you know your own sister?”
Damara took a seat at the table, self-consciously smoothing her dress over until Faren begged to sit on her lap. She carefully set Ivory down on the table before pulling the child up, trying not to grimace as Faren’s foot bumped her injured leg.
Tyrone dipped a piece of bread into his soup. Damara felt exposed as she noticed his eyes searching her face.
“There’s a lot I’d like to know,” he admitted, taking a bite of his food.
Damara bit her lip, readying herself for interrogation as he swallowed. Faren’s little body was warm on her lap and she hugged the child closer, seeking comfort.
Tyrone paused, thrumming on the table with a thoughtful expression. “On my way here, Tide told me that he found you near the castle, alone in the woods. Why is that?”
Doesn’t he know?
Damara took a deep breath. “Chasm shook me off when he fled the castle,” she said. “He was hurt and I guess I was weighing him down too much.”
“So he actually attacked the castle,” Tyrone murmured, contemplating.
“The Strong Pack did, yes. Iris and Veer were killed in battle, leaving Chasm as the last one of them all, since Hasten was already killed by-” She cut herself off, eyes widening as she remembered how the Hooded Dragon saved her life, only to be mu
rdered immediately afterward.
Tyrone’s eyes filled with sadness, clearly recalling what had happened. “I suppose there’s a lot you’d like to know as well.” He sighed after a moment, pushing his meal aside to focus in on Damara.
Damara held Faren closer, nodding timidly. “Will you…tell me who the Hooded Dragon was?”
“The Hooded Dragon?” Tyrone smiled a little. “You must mean Stag.”
Stag, she repeated the name to herself, envisioning the dragon’s leather masked face. Stag is the one who saved me. Stag is the one who died for me.
“Long ago, Stag was attacked by rogues,” Tyrone began. “They blinded him, leaving him helpless as they went on to kill his mate.” He exhaled grimly. “After that, he wandered sightlessly for a time before stumbling across this place, where a stabled horse was the only prey he could catch for himself.”
“That was our father’s favorite horse,” Kara mourned out loud, shaking her head.
“In time, we gained Stag’s trust,” Tyrone said. “Kara and I tried our best to clean out his wounds, but his eyes were well beyond saving. This was before the Strong Pack began their invasion on Wystil, but we knew of King Chadwick’s loathing of dragons. And so we offered Stag a place here with us, where the forest could keep him safely concealed. He accepted and we became good friends.
“Kara,” he continued, “was kind enough to make a saddle and headpiece for Stag, a skill she learned from our father. And with me as his eyes in the air, Stag was able to fly again.”
So that’s why he wore the mask…
“Over time,” Tyrone went on, “we met Tide, Rosefinch, and eventually Lynx. When the Strong Pack began its assault on Wystil, we agreed to do everything in our power to defend the towns.”
There was a moment of silence in which only Faren’s soft snoring could be heard. Damara looked down at the child, just now noticing that she was asleep.
They have done everything to defend the towns, she thought. Stag even gave up his life.
Just to defend me.
Her eyes stung as tears welled up inside of them, falling like raindrops into Faren’s crinkled red hair.
“I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “I shouldn’t have just stood there. I should have known that Chasm would come-” Her voice cut out, muted by grief.
“It’s not your fault,” Kara reassured her from behind with a touch on the shoulder.
Damara looked up at her, beads of water tickling her cheeks as they traveled down her face.
But he gave his life for me…
Tyrone looked uncomfortable and he focused in on finishing his meal.
Embarrassed, Damara wiped away the tears.
After a while, Kara offered to put Faren to bed, lifting the sleeping child off Damara’s lap. She also took the empty bowl from Tyrone, who thanked her quietly.
“Oh…” A thought occurred to Damara and she loosened the belt from her waist, holding it up with its dagger sheathed inside. “I think this is yours.” She put it down on the table for him to take, avoiding his gaze.
With a glance, she saw him smile.
“No, you keep it,” he said, picking it up only to hand it back. “I have a new one now.”
Damara took it, face burning in bashfulness. “Thank you,” she mumbled, focusing more than necessary on her hands as she fastened the belt around her waist.
She sat breathlessly still, waiting for him to speak again.
“You don’t have to talk so loudly,” Ivory muttered from where she sat still on the table, causing Damara to jump. “Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t hear you.”
What? Damara stared at the wyvern, who cocked her head like an inquisitive bird. Who is she imitating now?
Tyrone smiled sadly. “Stag,” he murmured, as if to answer her unstated question. “His words were few and rarely heard, but it seems that Ivory managed to catch some of them anyway.”
That was Stag’s voice? Damara was astounded. It sounded so…reserved. Indifferent.
She wished Ivory would repeat it again, but the wyvern remained silent.
Oh, if only I could have thanked him…
Chapter 21