"Regy, are you sure you're comfortable with this?"
Crispin's voice was barely a whisper, thick with a lingering hesitation. He adjusted the final leather strap across the Shadowmane's broad, iridescent chest. Regulus huffed—a deep, vibrating sound that rumbled through the gravel beneath Crispin's boots—and nudged the young man's hand with his massive, charcoal-colored muzzle.
"Okay..." Crispin murmured. His fingers trembled slightly as he finished the last few clicks of the reinforced harness around Regy's frame. He checked that the small, custom-built cart and their supplies were perfectly secure. He felt a wave of gratitude for the thick, oiled leather coverings that protected their food, bedding, and specialized alchemy reagents from the damp air.
Bethany stepped forward. Her new hydra-bone armor caught the sun-crystal light in a brilliant, golden-flecked display. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Regy's golden mane. "Thank you for helping us, Regy. It will allow Crispin and me an easier time navigating to our location."
Regulus responded by dragging a rough, wet tongue across her nose. Bethany broke into a fit of giggles; the sound was bright and clear against the morning quiet of the Eighth Terrace. Crispin beamed. He reached out to stroke the Shadowmane's cheek, his hand lingering on the warm, dense fur.
His Shadow-Twilight spear was lashed securely to the side of the cart, alongside Bethany's bow. She had tucked the weapon carefully under the oiled leather to protect the sensitive hydra-sinew of the bowstrings from the humidity.
As they began their descent toward the city gates, a familiar, sharp voice cut through the air. "New armor? Nice."
Lucien stood near the Arch of Sovereignty with his black dragon whelp pacing restlessly at his heels. He let his gaze travel over Crispin's golden hydra laminar before his lips curled into a smirk. "A legendary is now your pack mule? Sî'Nareus, you gain an inch and lose a league."
Crispin's face flushed with heat.
"I want us to talk, if we could have a private moment?"
Crispin looked and Bethany and nodded. She stepped away.
"What's on your mind?"
"Regardless of what happened at the Inquisition, we both know we will never be each other's favorite people."
"Agreed."
"So…tell me, Sî'Nareus, why did you let me stay?" Lucien's face hardened. "If the shoe was on the other foot, we both know it would have gone differently."
Crispin chuckled. "Hearing you call me, Sî'Nareus feels odd."
"It feels odd," Lucien admitted with a laugh. "However, it's your name, and the Nobility have their own ideas of honor, which now includes us both. I would not openly disrespect another house, least…not while still on probation. Afterwards? I'll still get my digs in."
Sharing a laugh with Lucien…what had this morning become? The tension in his shoulders eased.
"To answer your question…There is something I realize about the bonded that I think you are just realizing. The bonded's emotions can influence our own…Regulus is morally gray as a slime. He doesn't see good and evil, just actions. I feel the bleed from that in my life. I press to ensure I am mindful of it, and always ensure my balance and choices are solely my own."
He looked down at Ebony. The dragon's eyes were wide and wet. Was he crying? Did Ebony understand how much he was affecting Lucien?
Crispin cleared his throat to ease the tension in his throat. "Ebony is a fledging. Quiet young. I imagine he feels a significant amount of fear. While he will be the Apex one day, for now, he is in danger from bigger predators. Perhaps the showing off, the fear that made you run…Those are his emotions and not yours. As I said during the Inquisition, you are a elegant, and much too stylish, Knight." Crispin tugged at the beautiful fabric of the half-cloak on Lucien's shoulder.
Lucien's voice was tight. "You have the right of it. How did you learn about the bond in that way so quickly?"
"Sheep and rams, honestly. Rams are hard-headed creatures. Talk to them, coax them, and reassure them. Until you learn and can feel the bleed-over from that bond, life can be a mess."
The back of Lucien's hand wiped his face. Crispin pretended not to see.
"If we get paired again, I will not run. Will we Ebony?" He scooped up the dragon and held him close to Crispin.
Crispin stroked his black muzzle. "Just so you know, if we get paired together again, I may be the one to run and leave you in danger." He shoved Lucien's armored shoulder.
They both chuckled, and Crispin walked past him. It was a conversation he had never expected, but his heart bloomed with heat and happiness.
Regulus let out a sharp, resonant huff that sounded remarkably like a laugh. Crispin snorted, a genuine smile breaking through.
The nine-league journey began in earnest as they passed through the great obsidian gates and entered the transition zone between the city and the wilder reaches of Eldir-Vahn. Landscapes shifted with every league.
The manicured beauty of the upper terraces gave way to the rugged, sprawling farmsteads of the mid-levels.
As they moved farther from the city's light, the air grew heavy and sweet with the scent of damp moss and overripe fruit. Raw moonstone veined the cavern walls in the region they passed through. The veins cast a ghostly, silver light over the path.
"Can I see the missive?" Bethany asked during a quiet stretch where the only sound was the rhythmic creak of the cart and Regy's steady breathing.
Crispin reached into his hip pouch and handed over the heavy, gold-sealed parchment. Bethany broke the wax and read aloud; her voice turned professional.
"Lord Sî'Nareus and Lady Reni. I dispatch you to the Wetlands. A mythical creature is being reported as being pursued by poachers. Your objective is clear. Pursue, protect, and watch. When poachers arise, do not engage unless threatened. Absolve the threat through any means necessary to protect the Thunderbird."
Bethany exhaled slowly; the parchment fluttered in her hands. "Any means necessary... You realize what that means in guild language, right?"
Crispin frowned, his eyes fixed on the darkening horizon of the Thicket ahead. "I get it. I hate admitting it, but I agree with the directive. We both know the mythic in question. Could you really live with yourself if we knowingly stood aside while someone murdered it? For me, it's personal. She was Perseus' bonded." The heart in his chest flared with heat, and his jaw clenched tight.
"No," Bethany replied softly. Her expression hardened into a look of grim resolve. "We agree."
Regulus let out a low bass rumble that vibrated through the cart's frame. "Must protect myth. Balance."
"It provides balance," Crispin added, looking toward the distant, shimmering haze of the Wetlands. "It is the very mother of that ecosystem."
A violent crack of thunder echoed through the cavern, followed by a low, rolling boom that shook the foundations of the stone floor. Regulus let out a low whine, his mane bristling as he pressed closer to Crispin's side.
"I know you dislike storms, Regy," Crispin said, reaching out to steady the harness. "Do not worry. Bethany and Ashara are with us."
The cavern ended in a storm; he looked up at the golden speck circling high in the misty sky, then turned to Bethany. "Ask Ashara to report any signs she sees? We have to document all traces discovered."
Bethany closed her eyes. Her posture stilled as she connected with the golden dragon whelp through their bond. High above, Ashara let out a sharp, melodic call in response, her wings flashing as she banked into the rising wind.