The chains shot out again, glowing red and hissing as they cut through the air. Sivares backed away, eyes wide. She recognized that spell. It was the same one that had trapped her mother.

  She remembered it clearly, the way her strong, proud mother had struggled, unable to break free even with all her power. Sivares had been just a hatchling, helpless and watching.

  “Spell Break!” Keys shouted, her voice sharp and desperate. Blue light burst out, meeting the chains in midair. They shattered with a crackling hiss, but the effort showed. Keys was breathing hard, her small chest heaving as she dropped to one knee.

  “Keys!” Sivares called, her eyes flicking between the mage-mouse and the caster.

  Crenkle sneered. “You’ll be out of breath before I run out of chains.”

  Panic and fury battled inside Sivares.

  If I fight him, they’ll hunt me again. Everything I’ve worked for will be gone. Every village I helped, every letter I carried, burned away.

  But if she ran, Damon would be left behind.

  Her wings twitched, and her claws dug into the dirt.

  Fight or fly.

  Her instincts told her to fly, to escape like before, but her heart stayed grounded.

  She glanced back.

  Damon wasn’t backing away.

  He stepped forward.

  He walked as if there wasn’t a magical battle raging just ten feet away.

  Damon moved with his usual quiet confidence, a soft smile on his face, as if he were just delivering the mail. No fear, no hesitation. Just calm steps toward danger.

  Sivares wanted to scream, Get back! Don’t you see what he’s casting? She tensed to leap forward, but Keys was already at her limit, sweat dripping down her fur and paws shaking as she readied another Spell Break. If she stopped now, Crenkle would catch her.

  But Damon just kept walking.

  “Excuse me,” he said politely.

  Crenkle blinked, noticing him for the first time. “What the?”

  Before he could finish, it happened.

  It was fast.

  Too fast to follow.

  Sivares and Keys just stared.

  In one smooth motion, Damon grabbed Crenkle’s staff, twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him face-first into the dirt. The wizard hit the ground with a grunt, Damon still holding the staff like it was just a stick he’d picked up.

  “You know,” Damon said casually, “attacking a licensed courier is a serious crime.”

  Crenkle struggled, but Damon pressed down on his shoulder, pinning him easily. He looked at the staff in his hands. “Only mage mice can cast without a focus, right?”

  Then he threw it, crystal-first, against a nearby rock. The crystal shattered.

  With it, Crenkle’s last spell fizzled out in the air.

  "You insolent little cur!" Crenkle spat, struggling in the dirt. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

  Damon just gave him a dry look. "Someone who broke about ten laws in less than two minutes."

  "She's a dragon!" Crenkle barked, eyes flashing with hatred. "A beast to be hunted and slain!"

  Damon tilted his head, thoughtful. “She is a dragon, yes. But she’s also a fully registered mail courier. Certified, signed, and sealed. Unlike you.”

  Crenkle snarled, but before he could spit another word, a deep whoosh split the sky.

  A shadow cut across the village, fast and heavy.

  All heads turned.

  From the direction of Bolrmont, a shape descended. Wings broad as sails, feathers catching the sun, half lion, half eagle.

  A griffon.

  It landed with a gust of wind and dust, its claws digging into the dirt. Its rider, clad in polished plate with the seal of Bolrmont on his cloak, slid off the saddle, hand resting on a sheathed blade.

  He said nothing.

  But his eyes locked immediately on Sivares.

  And his stance, guarded, measured, tense, made it clear.

  He was here for her.

  Sivares went still, eyes narrowing. Keys moved closer to Sivars, readying her last shred of magic.

  Damon didn’t move.

  Not yet.

  The knight stepped forward, armor clinking with each controlled stride.

  “What is going on here?” he bellowed, voice like rolling thunder. “We saw the spellfire from the city walls!”

  His griffon let out a sharp screech behind him, wings half-flared as it watched the tense scene.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Damon didn’t flinch. He turned slightly, still keeping one foot pressed on Crenkle’s back.

  “Unauthorized spellcasting. Assault on a registered courier. Oh, and impersonating a client on the delivery list.”

  The knight’s eyes flicked to Crenkle, now a writhing mess in the dirt, then to Sivares. His gaze was guarded. Judging.

  “She’s a dragon,” he said quietly.

  “She’s also on contract with the Courier’s Guild,” Damon replied, calm and firm. “Licensed in Homblom. Logged. Certified. Not one complaint.”

  Sir Garen’s jaw tightened. “You know, until yesterday, the law said dragons like her were kill-on-sight.”

  “I know,” Damon said. “But that changed. The council passed the Protection Act after Thornwood. Signed and posted in every guild hall.”

  Crenkle spat a clump of dirt, his face twisted with frustration. “That’s not law, it was a rushed guideline!”

  Sir Garen’s expression turned steely. “You baited a courier team, cast a binding-class spell in a populated zone, and endangered my jurisdiction, all while knowing the law was changing.”

  He closed the distance, eyes smoldering with anger. Crenkle shrank back, a whimper catching in his throat.

  The knight drew shackles from his belt, voice cold as iron. “You can protest ‘guidelines’ in court, Crenkle. But for now, you’re under arrest.”

  As Sir Garen marched Crenkle toward his waiting griffon, the mage muttered bitterly under his breath. The knight paused, turning to Damon one last time.

  “Just be warned,” he said, voice low but sharp. “The law only protects your dragon here in Bolrmont, and only as long as she doesn’t start doing, well… dragon things. Like burning down a town.” He mounted the griffon, armor clinking. “Keep that in mind.” With a sharp whistle, the griffon took off, wings stirring the dust as they lifted into the sky.

  “Well,” Damon muttered, walking back toward Sivares, “that was a bust.”

  She didn’t answer at first. When he reached her side, she was staring at the ground, shoulders low, wings folded in tight.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  "I hate it..." Sivares said softly, voice thick with emotion. "The fear. I couldn’t do anything. It was you and Keys who had to protect me.”

  She curled tighter into herself, wings half-folded as if trying to hide.

  “Sometimes… I wish I were like the dragons of old. Strong. Powerful. Fearless.” Her voice cracked. “But instead, I just froze.”

  Damon gently patted her side again, his hand resting where scales met the edge of her shoulder. “And you know what happened to those dragons?”

  Sivares looked at him, eyes rimmed with frustration and shame.

  “They got hunted,” Damon said simply. “Wiped out because they never ran. Because they never felt fear. Trust me, fear has a purpose.”

  He gave a weak smile. “Without it, I’d probably walk into a hundred more spells that could turn me into a smear on a wall. I need someone to watch out for me.”

  “But I didn’t!” she snapped, the pain in her voice boiling over. “I just let you go! I couldn’t move, I froze! I failed!”

  Tears streaked down her cheeks, pulling cold dust with them. She shook with the weight of it all. “I’m useless…”

  “Hey… hey,” Damon said softly, stepping closer. “It’s okay. We all have things we can’t do. I can’t fly, remember? Only you can do that. That’s kind of a big deal.”

  She didn’t respond, so he continued, voice warm but serious. “Look… this is going to sound cliché as hell, but courage isn’t about not feeling fear. It’s about moving anyway, even when you're terrified.”

  He gently reached up, touching the underside of her jaw to lift her eyes to his. “And you? You’ve got more courage than anyone I know. Next time… I know you’ll move.”

  Sivares blinked, breathing unsteadily, but some of the tension in her wings began to ease.

  Keys groaned, looking like she’d just run a marathon across a desert. "You okay, Keys?" Damon asked. “Mana depletion," she answered. "Just need… rest… and snacks. Mostly snacks.”

  Damon chuckled softly.

  Damon reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out a small, wrapped bundle. Inside was a dried piece of fruit, pale golden and slightly sticky.

  “I was saving this,” he said, holding it out to Keys, “but for protecting Sivares, I think you earned it.”

  Keys’ eyes widened as she leaned forward. “Is that a... Sugar Snap?”

  “Yep,” Damon nodded. “Said to be the sweetest thing in the kingdom. My mother grew it in her gardens.”

  Keys took the fruit reverently, as if holding a holy artifact. She stared at it for a moment, then took one delicate bite, and immediately, her eyes watered.

  “So sweet…” she whispered, tail twitching with joy.

  “Well-earned,” Damon said with a grin. “You took on someone over a hundred times your size. I’d say you deserve it.”

  Sivares let out a quiet breath, her muscles finally relaxing. “Thank you, Keys,” she said softly, lowering her head until her snout was nearly level with the mouse. “You didn’t have to fight for me, but you did.”

  Keys, cheeks puffed full of sugary fruit, gave a tiny, embarrassed nod. “Well... I'm kind of part of the team now,” she mumbled, half-shy, half-proud.

  For a moment, no one said anything.

  Then Sivares lowered her head slightly, just enough to meet Keys’ eyes. Her breath was warm, her tone softer than before.

  “I’ll try to keep the drama to a minimum.”

  Keys blinked, surprised, then grinned.

  “No promises,” Damon added with a smirk, patting Sivares’s side.

  Sivares flicked her tail and huffed. “No promises,” she echoed, but there was a smile in her voice this time.

  //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

  Two days.

  Two long, brutal days of fighting spiders.

  We’d found a rhythm, slash, burn, move, but sleep was a stranger. Every snap of a twig or whisper of wind had us flinching. If it weren’t for Vivlin’s shortcut through that half-grown animal trail, shaving a day off our march, I don’t know if we would’ve made it. The stress alone might’ve cracked us.

  When Talvan and the others finally broke through the treeline and saw a proper, cobbled road stretching ahead, Leryea dropped to her knees, laughing. It wasn’t pretty, it was wild, cracked laughter from someone who couldn’t believe they were still breathing.

  “We’re out,” she choked between breaths. “We’re finally out of that death trap of a forest.”

  Revy just stood there, eyes distant, clutching her staff. “So many spiders,” she muttered. “So many…”

  Talvan looked back at the looming wall of twisted trees and black webs behind them. “And that’s just the edge. Thornwood stretches over a hundred miles south. No one even knows what’s on the far side.”

  For a few long minutes, none of us spoke. We just stood there, exhausted, alive, staring at the road as if it were a blessing from the gods.

  Fort Thayden was down that road.

  We didn’t know where the dragon had gone—no tracks, no sign, no roaring overhead. But maybe, just maybe, there’d be a report at the fort.

  A lead. A clue. Anything.

  We started walking—one foot after the other.

  Out of the forest.

  And into whatever came next.

  //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

  The door slammed open.

  A red-faced aide rushed into the study, nearly tripping over the rug. “Your Grace! Urgent report, near a small town outside Bolrmont. The dragon, the dragon, was attacked. A bounty hunter mage went after her.”

  Duke Triybon’s quill froze mid-sentence.

  “Repeat that,” he said slowly, voice tight.

  The aide swallowed. “A bounty hunter attacked the dragon. He’s claiming protection under Duke Deolron’s authority, said Deolron, posted the bounty weeks ago, and that we, our city, interfered with proper noble jurisdiction.”

  Triybon stared down at the parchment before him. "I just had that law passed. Just. And already…"

  He stood, pacing. “I thought we’d get a few months, at least, before something like this exploded. Of course, Deolron would be the first to test it. Of course he would.”

  The aide fidgeted. “He’s already preparing complaints. He’ll likely challenge it in court. Maybe even appeal directly to King Albrecht IV.”

  Triybon let out a sharp breath. “This is going to be a circus…”

  “And the mage?” he asked after a beat.

  The aide looked more uncomfortable. “He’s invoking Accord Article 7, sire. Claims that licensed bounty hunters can’t be arrested for pursuing a legitimate bounty, says the protections apply even if the bounty was… outdated.”

  Triybon’s jaw clenched. “I knew that clause would come back to bite us.”

  “Hold him,” he ordered. “We’ll let the courts decide, but until then, no release. Make sure he’s treated properly, but not comfortably. I need time to prepare.”

  He turned toward the window, eyes fixed on the horizon where trouble always seemed to be brewing.

  “This law will stand,” he muttered. “But I'd better brace for the storm it’s about to bring.”