by Virlyce
“I don’t?” Alora asked and tilted her head. “Then what type of dragon do you think I am?”
“You were blue before, so an ice dragon.”
“But I’m purple now.”
“A purple ice dragon.”
Alora scratched her snout. “How about you just give me the orb—no questions asked—as one friend to another?”
“You’re not my friend.”
“Ouch,” Alora said. She furrowed her brow. “As one acquaintance to another?”
“I respectfully decline.”
“I’ll … give you a cookie?”
Lindyss glared at Alora. “Do I look like I’d be swayed by a cookie?”
Alora shrugged. “Everyone likes cookies; it was worth a shot. Alright, so if I tell you what I need the orb for, you’re going to give it to me?”
“No,” Lindyss said. “I’ll consider giving it to you depending on how good your reason is.”
Alora lowered her head and sighed, her eyes brimming with tears. “You see, my grandma was tricked and captured by Zyocuh, and the only way to free her is through that orb.”
Lindyss’ expression didn’t change. “Really.”
“Uh-huh, really.” Alora bobbed her head up and down. She sniffled. “And I care about my grandma a lot, and I want to free her.”
Before Lindyss could further express her doubt, a voice boomed from outside the cave, “Grandma’s back! Where are my favorite little grandchildren hiding? Alora? Vur? Eldest, Youngest, Bonnie?”
Alora cleared her throat, her watering eyes clearing instantly. “Uh…, so can I have the orb?”
Lindyss pointed towards the entrance of the cave. “Out.”
35
Sharda swept her gaze over her assembled family members. Vur was in his human form, sitting next to Tafel on the ground. Behind them, Alice and Mr. Skelly sat with their legs crossed and their backs completely straight, their expressions frozen stiff. Mary was sitting underneath a tree to the side, holding onto a turtle shell that had two pairs of eyes peeking out of either end. Eldest, Bonnie, and Youngest were bunched together like peas in a pod, staring at the green dragon beside their grandmother. Next to the annoying trio, their parents were sitting on their haunches, but their dad was sleeping despite having proper posture and open eyes.
“Where’s Sera and Vernon?” Sharda asked.
“They flew back to her”—Bonnie pointed at Mary—“palace to pick up the staves we left behind.”
Tafel swallowed and shifted her weight, inching closer to Vur.
Sharda nodded. “And Alora? Where is she?”
Vur pointed off to the side. “She went to the cave Auntie took over.”
“Auntie?” Sharda asked and tilted her head. She glanced at her daughter, Emma. “Your cave?”
Emma shook her head. “No.”
“Then which aunt of Vur’s is this?” Sharda asked. “Did Vernon have a sister?”
Emma shrugged and jerked her chin towards Vur. “Ask him.”
“Auntie is Auntie,” Vur said when Sharda’s gaze landed on him.
Sharda furrowed her brow. “I have to meet this aunt of yours,” she said and climbed to her feet. “Where did you say her cave was?”
“Between those trees,” Vur said, pointing off to the side again.
Sharda lumbered towards the spot where Vur pointed. When she reached the trees, she swept them aside with her paw, causing the earth to shake as they fell to the ground. Her head lowered, and when she was about to step inside, she came face to face with a purple dragon.
“Grandma!” Alora said. “Hi. I was just coming out to see you.”
“Alora?” Sharda asked. “What happened? You’re … purple. And your face is black.”
“Oh…,” Alora said and scratched her head. “I, um, fell into a puddle of red liquid and turned purple. And my face is black because this rude woman threw a lightning spear into my face!” Alora moved over to the side, letting light into the cave and onto Lindyss, who was lying down. Sharda glared at Lindyss, and Alora grinned when she saw that, but when her grandmother turned back to face her, Alora’s expression reverted to one of a hurt puppy’s. “Look at how charred my scales are. It was a really strong lightning bolt!”
Lindyss heaved a sigh and sat up. She raised her hand over her face, catching and pushing back the hairs blocking her view. Her fingers ran through her hair and down to her neck. She tilted her head from side to side, letting out a few cracking sounds before standing up. “I greet the dragon matriarch,” she said and dipped her head down.
“Huh? You throw lightning bolts into my face, but you give my grandma a proper greeting?”
Lindyss ignored Alora, keeping her gaze fixed on Sharda’s front claws. After having met so many dragons, they honestly didn’t seem that scary to her anymore. They were like giant children—giant children with sharp teeth and claws that could tear her apart at any moment, but still children nonetheless. Except for Grimmy. A shiver ran down her spine, and she almost smacked herself for thinking such nonsensical thoughts.
“And who exactly are you?” Sharda asked, tapping her front claws against the ground.
Lindyss raised her head. “I’m Lindyss the Corrupted One. I’m Grimmoldesser’s servant of sorts.”
Sharda rubbed her chin and hummed. “That explains it,” she said. “But why does Vur call you his aunt? Were you related to his biological parents?”
Lindyss shook her head. “He calls me aunt for the same reason he calls Grimmoldesser uncle. It’s just his form of address for us.”
Sharda’s expression stiffened. “He calls Grimmoldesser what?”
“Uncle.”
Alora blinked at her grandmother’s dark reaction. “Um, Grandma? Is Uncle Grimmy not actually related to us by blood?”
“No.” Sharda said, her eyes narrowed into slits. “He’s not.”
“Phew.” Alora patted her chest and shivered. “That’s a relief. Oh! Grandma! Grimmoldesser..., he, he…. He’s a bad person who punished me for no reason! He threw me into this portal with shadows and stuff and ... and….” Alora burst into tears, wailing and sobbing into her front paws. “I was so scared, Grandma!”
Sharda’s eyes widened, and she glared at Lindyss. Lindyss shrank back, her shoulders feeling heavier than usual. “H-harming me won’t do anything to get back at Grimmoldesser.”
Sharda nodded. “You’re right,” she said and took in a deep breath through her nose. “But it’ll make me feel better.” Her chest expanded, and frost leaked out of the corners of her mouth.
“Wait!” Alora shouted. “You can’t kill her, Grandma! She has this orb—wait, no, she didn’t do anything wrong! You can hurt her, but you can’t kill her.”
“Is this the part where we run?” Erin asked and swallowed. She was sitting on Lindyss’ shoulder, staring up at the impending dragon breath leaking out of Sharda’s teeth.
“Can you polymorph her?” Lindyss whispered. “Even if only for a second.”
“If you lend me some mana, maybe, I can polymorph her for half a second.”
Purple mana surged into Erin from below, and she raised her hand. She pointed at Sharda, who was still hesitating while making eye contact with Alora. “Polymorph!”
As soon as Erin shouted, a pair of translucent wings sprouted out of Lindyss’ back, and she surged forward past the rapidly shrinking dragon matriarch. Wool sprouted out of Sharda’s shrinking body, and her claws became more rounded as her paws turned into hooves. For a fraction of a second, she became a sheep. Then, she rapidly expanded, returning to her original form, but by then, Lindyss had already escaped from the cave.
A loud bang rang through the air. Vur and Tafel turned to look at each other. “That came from Auntie’s cave, right?” Tafel asked and furrowed her brow. “I told you you should’ve gone with your grandmother.”
Vur shrugged. “I’d rather sit here next to you.”
Tafel pursed her lips, her cheeks tinging with pink.
“T
afel!” Lindyss’ voice shouted. “Portal!”
Tafel turned her head to the side, and her eyes widened at the elf flying towards her. A gaping maw was close behind, and Lindyss surged forward, narrowly avoiding the teeth snapping shut behind her legs. “Portal to where!?” Tafel asked.
“Anywhere!”
Tafel opened a portal in the air, and Lindyss surged through, disappearing from view.
“Widen it!” Sharda roared before Tafel could close the portal.
Tafel flinched, and the portal widened enough for Sharda to pass through. Then it closed, leaving behind a group of stunned spectators. A moment later, Alora popped her head out of the path of destruction that Sharda had left behind. “Where’d they go?”
Everyone turned to stare at Tafel.
“I, uh, just opened the portal to the last location that I had set,” Tafel said and scratched her neck. “While you were gone”—she nudged Vur’s side—“Grimmy wanted me to teleport him to the dungeon we found with the bloody chimeras. So, that’s where they are now.”
***
Grimmy slapped his paw down, crushing a red man wielding a wooden weapon. The man disappeared underneath the black scales, and a red puddle oozed out from between Grimmy’s claws. Silent screams rang through the air as a group of red people threw down their weapons and scattered, running through the multiple exits leading out of the room. Grimmy grinned and licked his lips before sweeping his gaze over his surroundings. He was in a circular room with a massive, rectangular, stone altar in the center. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, glowing with a white light. Five archways, each large enough to accommodate Grimmy’s size, led into and out of the room. The floor was made of marble, and red patterns that looked like entwining snakes decorated each tile.
Grimmy chuckled and walked up to the altar, leaving behind bloody pawprints with each step. He pushed aside the stone block with his tail, revealing a deep pit underneath. He peered inside and exhaled out a small flame to light up the interior. Within the pit, there was a crater with a layer of dried bloodstains covering it. “Interesting concept,” Grimmy said and nodded, the flames no longer leaving his mouth. He covered the pit with the altar and patted it a few times, wedging it firmly into place. “Not as good as the Fountain of Youth, but not too shabby.”
An explosion rang out, and Grimmy flinched.
“Stop running!” a voice roared out, shaking the chandelier in the room. Bits of rock and dust fell from the ceiling, sprinkling down like snow. Grimmy turned around, and a familiar face greeted him.
“Grimmy!” Lindyss shouted. Her wings flapped, and she twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding an icicle that was larger than her body. It flew through the air and struck Grimmy’s paw, piercing it. “Help!”
Grimmy blinked and ripped the icicle out of his paw, blood spurting out like a fountain. He brought his paw close to his face and blew fire over the bleeding hole, cauterizing the wound. His eyes narrowed, and he sucked in a deep breath. Lindyss’ eyes widened, and she forced her wings to their limits, flapping them as fast as a hummingbird’s. She zoomed through the passage and curved to the left. Not even a second later, a jet of black flames surged past her, blistering her skin and setting her clothes on fire from the heat alone. She smacked herself with an ice-covered palm, putting out the flames, and crashed to the ground, tumbling a few times as her wings disappeared. Her chest heaved up and down as she panted for breath, sweat running down the sides of her face.
A loud yelp rang out of the archway that Grimmy breathed fire into. “Black flames!? I was being civilized and only used a simple icicle, but if that’s the way you want to play…!”
Lindyss tilted her head to the side, making eye contact with Erin. “Can you turn me into a mushroom?”
“No mana,” Erin said. “You should keep running.”
Sharda emerged from the archway, wiping at the black flames burning on her face. Her eyes widened and her paws froze mid-swipe. “Grimmoldesser!”
Grimmy blinked. “Oh. It’s you.”
Sharda wrinkled her snout. “What are you doing in my territory?”
“Just visiting,” Grimmy said with a grin. “Is that a problem?”
“Have you forgotten our deal?” Sharda asked, baring her teeth.
Grimmy shrugged. “When I came here, you weren’t around, so I figured I could make myself at home and let you know when you came back.” He nodded. “By the way, I’m here to visit your territory.”
Sharda’s eyes narrowed. “Your servant harmed my granddaughter.” She pointed at Lindyss. “I demand her life.”
Grimmy sidled over, plopping himself between Sharda and Lindyss. “Nope. Sorry.”
Sharda grumbled as she took a step back and sat on her haunches. She flicked away a black fireball that fell onto her shoulder. “It was worth a shot,” she said. “But my granddaughter tells me you threw her into a portal filled with shadows. Care to explain before I decide on your punishment?”
“Sure,” Grimmy said. “It’s simple, really. Your granddaughter is a liar. Why would I harm her knowing you’re out there?”
Sharda reared her head back. “Alora would never lie to me. And even if it weren’t Alora, I’d trust anyone else’s word before yours.”
Grimmy clicked his tongue. “What have I done to you to warrant such distrust?”
“You made the southern continent uninhabitable and forced me to relocate my nest,” Sharda said. “Shall I also take out the list of items you’ve plundered while I was in the process of moving? Or should I dig up the corpses of my worshippers and tribute bearers? Oh, that’s right.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “They didn’t even leave any corpses behind when they died because of you.”
Grimmy cleared his throat. “Now, see, you’re bringing up things that I’ve done, but I’ve always been honest with you. When you asked me if I knew what happened to cause everything to start dying, I told you it was because of me. When you asked me if I saw your treasures, I told you I took them. When you asked me if I knew what happened to your little villages, I told you they disintegrated due to an experiment gone wrong. But have I ever lied to you? If I really threw your granddaughter into one of my experimental shadow realms, then I’d have claimed all the credit for it already.”
Sharda furrowed her brow. “Just because you haven’t lied to me before doesn’t mean you won’t lie to me now.”
“You could say the same for your granddaughter,” Grimmy said and raised an eyebrow.
Sharda snorted. “I raised Alora to be a good, honest, and upright dragon. The chances of her being a liar is infinitesimally small compared to you being a liar. I demand you apologize to my granddaughter and become her servant for three centuries to make it up to her.”
Grimmy scratched his snout. “How about...”—his gaze landed on Lindyss—“I transfer my servant to your granddaughter for three centuries instead?”
Lindyss’ eyes bulged.
Sharda shook her head. “No.”
Lindyss exhaled.
“Four centuries?” Grimmy asked.
“Five.”
“Okay,” Grimmy said and nodded. He spat on his non-injured paw and extended it towards Sharda. “Five centuries.”
Sharda wrinkled her snout, but she spat in her paw as well and slapped it against Grimmy’s. The two dragons shook their paws up and down before turning to look at Lindyss at the same time. The cursed elf swallowed and asked in a small voice, “Don’t I get a say in this?”
Grimmy grinned. “See you in five centuries.”
***
“Every time something passes through my portals, I use up mana,” Tafel said to the crowd of dragons staring down at her. “I can open the portal there, but there’s no way I can transport seven dragons.”
“Then you can go there yourself and bring them back,” Nova said. “I have to take time getting acquainted with my grandchildren anyway.” He smiled at the annoying trio, and they glanced at each other before smiling back.
“I’m
your grandchild too,” Alora said and sat herself next to the annoying trio, pushing them partly out of the way. “I’m Alora.”
“Ah, Alora,” Nova said and rubbed his chin. “Your grandma’s told me a lot about you.”
“What about us?” Eldest asked. “What did she tell you about us?”
Nova chuckled. “I know that you’re Eldest, you’re Bonnie, and you’re Youngest.”
The annoying trio widened their eyes, staring at their grandpa as if they had seen a ghost. “You got it right!” Bonnie said. “No one’s ever been able to tell us apart before. How did you know?”
Nova raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that obvious? Eldest looks like he’s the oldest; Youngest looks like he’s the youngest; and that just leaves you who’s in the middle, Bonnie.”
The annoying trio exchanged glances again before rushing towards Nova at the same time. They plopped down in front of him, close enough to touch his front paws, and stared up at him with sparkling eyes. Youngest opened his mouth. “You’re the best, Grandpa.”
“You’re the best grandpa too,” Eldest said.
“You’re the best best grandpa,” Bonnie said.
Alora rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”
“Yes, it does,” Bonnie said and wrinkled her snout at her sister. She looked up at Nova. “Right, Grandpa? It makes sense, right?”
Nova chuckled and patted Bonnie’s head. “It does, it does. I’m the best best grandpa.”
Bonnie turned around and stuck her tongue out at Alora. “See?”
Alora snorted and lumbered over to Tafel and Vur. “Make the portal bigger,” she said. “I’m going too.”
“You don’t want to fawn over your grandfather?” Alice asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you leave now, there’s no way you can become his favorite.”
“I only have to be Grandma’s favorite,” Alora said, keeping her back towards Nova and the trio. “She’s the one who makes the cookies.”
“People are worth more than the cookies they can make,” Alice said.
Mr. Skelly’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Alice’s shoulder. “What? That’s news to me.”
