Duke Walliskah massages his temples as he works on keeping up with the documents and other resolutions that continuously pour into the Imperial Palace for the Empire to function. As a high ranking and trusted noble close to the Empress, it has fallen on him to at least keep some sort of organization of the various departments that managed to function autonomously for the Peace Summit.

  He only just arrived in the Palace himself the afternoon prior, and he is swamped. Even with the departments handling the summaries and reviews of various reports and requests, the pile of paperwork requiring Sundenelle’s signature specifically have grown. And, because she doesn’t have a formal Prime Minister that she can deputize in her place when she’s away, he has to do his best to delay some of the more restless nobles and vassal royalty pressuring for answers about her whereabouts, her plans, and the future of the Empire after her rather short-notice formal declaration of her engagement to the Emperor of the Fievegal.

  The expected complaints have come in. Many old-line noble families of the Empire have complained that she shouldn’t be marrying an outsider to begin with, though that very notion would be flipped if she were simply an Imperial Princess. Others are displeased that she has chosen a fiancee with the reputation Daniel has, let alone the fact that he openly flaunted a large entourage of perfectly content-seeming wives. True it is that the Emperor had three formal consorts and Lady Byleathea, but it’s generally a controversial topic when it comes up.

  “I should’ve retired earlier this year…” grumbles the duke softly.

  He decides to take a walk for a break, since it’s late evening, and he’s going to have to go to sleep soon. “Your Imperial Majesty…” murmurs the noble, hoping to summon the young woman with his will alone.

  Duke Walliskah politely greets the guards and servants as he passes them, since many of them are turning over or returning to their own quarters to sleep.

  As he’s crossing the courtyard, a commotion catches his attention. Servants are being shooed away, while the guards are rallying.

  The duke has distant Imperial blood relations several generations back, so while he doesn’t go out of his way to claim a familial relationship with the young Empress, he was in fact as close as a brother to her Father on many occasions.

  And, while his reign was one primarily notable for its long period of internal peace and stability thanks to a hard-line being held at the mountains. In spite of the continuous war, they were able to sustain a high quality of living for the Empire at large and continue to strengthen for defense.

  And, more than once, Duke Walliskah was on the battlefield leading troops and organizing logistics alongside his lifetime friend. His instincts kick in, even as long as it has been since he was in actual combat.

  The duke runs to the gathering counterattack as knights and officers call out orders to their respective divisions.

  “What’s going on!?” calls out Duke Walliskah. They’re in the very heart of the Imperial Capital.

  His answer comes in the form of several red stars rising into the sky.

  Or rather, the several red flare spells.

  His stomach twists into a knot, nearly compelling him to expel their contents. Walliskah arrived at the aftermath of one of the deadliest enemies the Empire has faced, where four thousand brave men were all but erased from existence before reinforcements could arrive.

  The type of creature that did it sat across a simple wooden table from Walliskah wearing a virtual dress unto itself made of strings of pearls, layered over one of the richest fabrics in the world. And, there were four of them.

  The titan descending from the sky directly over the Imperial palace main courtyard dwarfs the enemy annihilator that Walliskah only glimpsed as it was flying away.

  “Dragon…” whispers the duke, feeling terror grip him as the knights and soldiers try to rally. Many are just as afraid of him as the flare spells illuminate the giant creature slowly lowering itself. It’s carrying something in its foreclaws, but Walliskah’s gaze is locked on its dark-colored form color-shifted by the red light revealing it.

  A flickering light from the back of the dragon’s neck draws the dazed nobleman’s gaze. There, he finds a trio of humanoids on the dragon’s back, and one of them is waving in Duke Walliskah’s direction.

  It’s then that he looks at the object being carried in the dragon’s foreclaws. It’s a pair of flags, one being the Fievegal’s depiction of a silohuette of Hekate and some other decorations, and the second is the unmistakable banner of the Grand Zenkon Empire with the Strylak embracing the world.

  The dragon slowly lowers towards the ground, and although it is wearing armor fitted to its massive reptilian body, it doesn’t make any aggressive motions, nor breathe fire on the Imperial soldiers.

  “Stand fast! Hold your attacks! Hold!” calls out Duke Walliskah, repeating it until the officers and knights finally start to collectively notice. He waves them off of the counterattack, as frightful as the situation is, but he would be a fool to overlook all of the signs.

  Sundenelle is riding a dragon, a sentient being that can use powerful magic and erase thousands of people in what feels like mere moments, turn into a humanoid form that can still be hit with the Mornistae copies of the demon wands and survive in that form, and seemingly drop the air temperature around them with just their gaze.

  “Clear the area!” calls out Walliskah as he jogs towards the center. “Make room for her Imperial Majesty!”

  “W-Wait… What!?” calls out one of the Counts responsible for a division of soldiers as he looks up. He gasps, repeating the duke’s orders and helping clear a large enough area for the avian titan to land.

  Walliskah would fight to the death if he had to in order to defend the Empire he loves. That death would come in sceonds. He is well aware of that fact.

  But, he has also spoken to Ryuogriar, Reignleif, Geirahoel, and even the more reclusive, but boisterous Lady Gold and had very productive conversations with them. They have strange mentalities towards their role in a large polygynous relationship, but they are very rational and easy to converse with, as well as respectful in spite of the fact that even the weakest of them, Dame Roeta, could almost certainly incinerate this very same group of soldiers and knights.

  The dragon whose clawed “hands” and feet have just touched down on the carved stone of the Imperial Courtyard has a dark grey color visible in the few gaps in his armor that immediately suggest with a high degree of probability that it is the very same dragon that fearlessly protected the Empresses and the two Princesses of the Fievegal with his body; Sir Neith gur Lawson, brother-in-name to the Emperor.

  The dragon checks the area around them and uses his foreclaw to receive Sundenelle, Sir Ecklevon, and a very weary and trembling Lady Byleathea. He gently lowers the trio to the ground, and Sundenelle and Ecklevon ensure to support the Empress’s mother to help her down.

  Walliskah approaches cautiously, and before addressing her loyal and wise subordinate, Sundenelle faces Neith.

  “Sir Larven, please take your humanoid form for now.”

  The dragon nods, replying, “As you wish, my Liege.” The dragon rises to his full, terrifying height, standing taller than the various watch towers of the Imperial palace, which are laid out with an overall design to the Palace forming somewhat of a maze that the defensive walls and towers can be used to funnel attackers and increase the effectiveness of defense. The walls can protect the palace grounds, while the towers can defend the walls and the surroundings. Aerial threats are trickier, but various technologies are being developed from the Kingdom of Mornistae. It’s a fairly open secret that most of the territories have been spying on each other since the beginning of their international relationships or lack thereof. The Fievegal has been the only territory in recent times to resist efforts to gather accurate intelligence, mainly because they are a highly stratefied nation with the Imperial Family of the Fievegal carrying out much of the external operations, and the military being equipped with their ‘basic’ equipment, which is plenty enough to surpass the ‘established, high-end’ equipment any of the eastern territories employ.

  The dragon casts a spell that creates a large, visible mana circle scrawled with various glyphs before he is swallowed by a swirl of smoke-like mana, shrinking in size until he emerges as a fully-armored knight with his face hidden. His silvery-grey horns and tail are still visible, and he is wearing a dark grey mantle, but unless there is another grey dragon, Walliskah is certain it’s Neith.

  Ah, I see what’s going on here. He watches as the knight kneels before Sundenelle, and she says warmly, “Please rise, Sir Larven. We need to return to work.”

  The young Empress approaches Walliskah rather briskly while everyone watches in stunned silence. Even the duke can scarcely believe the size difference between the dragon that landed and the fact that he could pass for a half-human with ease. He approaches behind the Empress, and Byleathea comes to a stop just a slight distance behind and to the right of the snow-haired young woman.

  “Duke Walliskah, forgive me for my extended furlough with my husband-to-be. I realize I have a great deal of work to catch up on. If you wouldn’t mind giving me a quick brief of the most crucial matters, I shall send you to rest immediately after.”

  “Y-... Your Imperial Majesty, I…” The duke takes a breath and steadies himself. She’s as calm as can be, though suspicions of brainwashing are certainly being raised already. The fact that she arrived on a dragon’s back…

  No… Has anyone ever witnessed demon-kin riding dragons before? The dragons are proud and haughty from all of the stories, and Daniel’s reputation is also known as the ‘Harbinger of Calamity’, meaning he has some power over them in spite of how they behaved at the peace summit. Let’s just play it out for now. Sundenelle is clever enough to find a way to signal that she has been enthralled if that’s the case.

  The elder nobleman clears his throat, finishing his pledge. “I serve at your leisure, my Empress.” He salutes with his forearm perpendicular to his waist, and bows slightly.”

  One of the Counts commanding a division of knights approaches, saluting as well. “Your Enlightened Majesty, Count Bolorio greets you. The Third Division is at your disposal.”

  “Thank you both. I was impressed with the response, but we’ll need to discuss better strategies if ever an enemy dragon were to descend upon us, it seems. I apologize for the scare, but Sir Larven was gracious enough to speed along my return to the capital.” She turns to the dragon, requesting, “Sir Larven, I trust you will be willing to provide appropriate advice?”

  The armored knight nods politely, “Of course, my Liege. Though, I expect I should be able to withstand attacks from all but Empress Hekate, Empress Yuna, Sir Neith, and the Faormyr. And, of course, I would urge you not to pick fights with Lady Senn, the Strylak, or Archpriestess Vaergraes, your Majesty.”

  “Fool’s errands to attack any one of them. Especially because no small number of them are soon to be my family and friends.” She then faces her subordinates, saying seriously, “As you can see, Sir Larven has been graciously bound in service to me as an extension of my betrothal to the Emperor of the Fievegal. Please treat him with the utmost respect.”

  “With respect, your Imperial Majesty,” starts the Count. “Questions will surely arise about the balance of power, or… whether or not the Empress came back.” He kneels, saying seriously, “Forgive me for saying so, but… You have returned with quite a pallid complexion.”

  Duke Walliskah twitches hearing this, since he knows enough. He wondered if Sundenelle’s condition had cleared on its own after she was born, but her hair and eye color are exactly the same as when she was born. The Emperor heard the concerns of everyone who bore witness, and he made one of the most severe decrees he had ever declared.

  Anyone who spoke of Sundenelle’s appearance at birth would have their entire bloodline erased through the most brutal means possible. It might have made things easier if he instead embraced her appearance the way that Daniel immediately brushed it off, but Daniel’s own reputation is far worse, even if it’s groundless rumors exaggerating a crucial event.

  “Rise, Count Bolorio,” replies Sundenelle. “Regrettably, this is my natural appearance. I have been deceiving everyone with this magic device in order to avoid questions and suspicions. But, my fiance has reassured me of his protection.” She smiles and gestures at the grey dragon. “Not many people in this world can claim to have ridden a dragon, let alone have one as their personal knight, yes? I am but a human, and my appearance is rare, but I am the Empress of the Grand Zenkon Empire, and soon, the Grand Imperial Union of Stoerykame. It is only fitting that everything about me is rare and special, yes?” She smiles and holds her head high. “I am the Snow-Haired Angel of the Empire. There is only one of me. And, the truth is, all this time, I refused all courtship offers in hopes that my destined one would discover the truth. Just as I was resigning myself to make a political decision, it turned out my intended would reveal the truth and praise my beauty, as any proper husband should, yes?”

  The noblemen are awkwardly quiet, but they finally nod after a moment.

  “Good. Duke Walliskah, while you’re catching me up on recent events, I’d like you to draft an Imperial assignment to grant my brother Themihk a provisional pardon with restrictions. I’m going to deputize him as my Regent while holding the title of Prince Regent when I am present. He will not be in line for the throne, but he will be able to rule in my absence up to the point of any matter revolving around his family. As for you, Duke Walliskah, I intend to promote you from acting Prime Minister to Chief Viceroy. Your primary duties will shift away from your ministerial duties, and you will be responsible for administering the territorial affairs.”

  “Your Majesty… I’m…”

  She holds her hand up to halt the duke. “Mind you, this restructure excludes the Grand Principality, and your authority would officially exceed the Grand Prince in Imperial affairs. There are reasons for this, but I expect he will not take it well.”

  “I’m humbled, your Grace,” replies the Duke. “I have questions about the authority Prince Themihk will hold, but I wonder if I am worthy to act as an embodiment of your will to the territories.”

  “Your new authority will be explicitly to counter Themihk in the event he tries to betray me, as well as Grand Prince Yaulander, who I will discuss in more detail later. More importantly, we noticed something very important on our way here. Something that will constitute a state of emergency. I know I promised you rest very soon, but I will need you to send out summons to all of the nobility in the Capital so I can enact your new authority as well as ask about the exclave of Centerhold.”

  “Centerhold, your Majesty?” asks the duke.

  “That’s right. While we were flying here, visible from the air was a strange light. There appears to be a wildfire consuming the fortress, and I would like to know who was operating in the exclave without my knowledge.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Walliskah is caught off guard by this, since it’s his first time hearing anything about Centerhold recently, since it’s mostly just a clerical territory. Much of the soil isn’t suited to intense farming, and the relatively remote location is far from major sources of water, so not even the country that surrounds it, the Ahmpur kingdom, makes heavy use of the land, which they have permission to lease from the Empire if needed.

  “No one requested permission to use Centerhold recently, so if there was a battle, I know nothing of it.”

  “I see. We need to find out. It doesn’t appear there were any storms recently to have caused it, but the grass wasn’t dry enough to propagate such a large fire. Something is amiss.”

  “Understood, your Majesty. I’ll get you an answer as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you. Catch me up on the way. Count Bolorio, you and the others have done excellent work. Make sure no one got injured in the panic and start spreading the word that a single dragon is residing in the capital under my command, and any others should be reported as normal.”

  “Understood, your Majesty,” replies the Count with a salute. He immediately whirls and shouts, “Listen up! I have new orders for the Third Division! First, Second, and Fourth Commanders, I request your presence as well!”

  “Sir Ecklevon, please take Lady Byleathea to rest and inform her usual guards. Then, I would like you to gather your most trusted men for the task of protecting and monitoring Themihk once his release is organized.”

  “As you wish, your Majesty!”

  “Apologies, Sir Larven. I will need you to guard me for a while longer today.”

  “Sleep, your Majesty? Never heard of it.”

  She giggles, placing her hand on his chest. “My husband to be chose well. I like a good sense of humor. Let’s move. We have much to get caught up on.”

  “As you wish, your Grace,” reply both the Duke and the dragon knight.

  Sundenelle has more information than she’s letting on, but most who know her assume that in every situation she’s involved in, since she does have a pretty good sense of when to play her hand and when to keep it close to the chest.

  As they walk, Duke Walliskah has a question that he doesn’t want to ask, but one he unfortunately needs the answer to in case he needs to begin formulating a defense strategy.

  “Your… Majesty…?”

  “Yes, Duke Walliskah?” asks the young woman with a casual smile.

  “Forgive me for asking this, but as your vassal and prime minister, as well as a future Chief Viceroy, I must ask. Are… Will… you be expecting?”

  Sundenelle stumbles and nearly falls, caught only by Neith, or rather, Larven, when he lunges forward with impressive speed to keep her from falling. The duke freezes in his tracks with dread gripping him.

  Sundenelle’s face lights up, and she whirls upon him. “Duke Walliskah!? H-How dare you ask me that!”

  “I’m sorry, your Majesty. But… if I am to help prepare for how to present it to the Empire…”

  “Do you think me some loose-willed floozy!?” yells the young woman. She looks at her new dragon knight, whose helmet gives away none of his thoughts.

  “Not at all your Majesty, forgive me. I have disrespected you and your intended, though you must admit…”

  “Admit what!? His reputation? I’ll have you know that if I threw myself at him, he would deflect! In spite of his reputation, and in spite of his somewhat barbaric behavior in noble society, he might be more restrained than you, Duke Walliskah!” She points accusatorily at him, though her own embarrassment is apparent.

  Dear god… She does love him, doesn’t she? But… How, and why?

  “Forgive me, your Majesty. I suppose the implication of the number of children he is expected to have in a very short period…”

  Sundenelle realizes that she has gotten rather heated rather quickly, and she glances around. It’s unlikely many of the soldiers heard the context of their conversation, but words were definitely heard, as well as the fact that the Empress was yelling.

  She clears her throat and resumes her normal composure. “Yes, well, you met Empresses Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and Geirahoel, yes? I am afraid they have had more time to figure out how to achieve their goals than I have. If I had anything to offer that he could not attain from someone else, I assure you, I would be legally wed on paper already. After all, scandal or no, binding the Fievegal to us is an undeniably desirable outcome right now, and I would certainly be able to weigh my dignity against the assured future of the Empire.”

  Walliskah is quiet for a moment. She adds with a feisty tone, even without prompting, “I’ll have you know, this is the logical part of my brain speaking! I am not so infatuated with a man I barely know that I would simply leap into his bed if he asked me! But, given how he demonstrated such a high level of attention and care to the princesses, princesses, who, I would remind everyone, are of a race normally dismissed as being savage and weak. Yet, his love for his children was…” She softens as her hands dance amidst a flurry of trying to explain her full thoughts, and she finally settles down with a content smile. “The way he treated them reminded me of how my own father treated me. If I were to trust the future heir of the Empire to anyone, it would be someone like that, no matter how many wives or mistresses he has. It may become messy, I know… but… whether anyone likes it or not, whether I love him or not, I trust him. That’s the most important thing in my eyes.”

  Walliskah bows his head. “Yours is the divine will of the heavens, your Majesty. Though you bear one of the greatest weights of responsibility, you possess the divine right to love whom you wish. I only hope that the heir to the Empire will be born within the bounds of wedlock by the normal formalities of the Empire.”

  The duke smiles at Sundnelle, who, ironically enough, does not fit that mold by the legal definition. “Though, I would give my all to protect the rightful heir, so long as they carry the blood of Lindenmorg.”

  She smirks, knowing he’s teasing her a little, but also reaffirming his loyalty, which he’s thankful he’s never given her reason to question.

  “I may need the help of your wife at some point or another, Duke Walliskah.” Sundenelle resumes her walk towards the main palace, adding as she goes, “You have several children, after all, do you not?”

  The duke and Larven chuckle together as they follow her, and Walliskah confirms, “Yes. My wife knows when and how to ensure our next child is imminent. Though, I assume the other Empresses of the Fievegal may be able to assist you with your specific intended.”

  The glass-haired empress laughs warmly, agreeing, “Yes, you’re right, of course. Though, I still need to figure out who will lead me astray for mischief and who will give me sincere advice.”

  “I wish you the best of luck, your Majesty.”

  The trio heads to Sundenelle’s office, where she’ll quickly get her most important priorities sorted and prepare for the meeting in the morning.

  The wildfire in Centerhold is a direct Imperial responsibility, but it’s certainly not the first nor the last that the Grand Zenkon Empire will have to deal with. It’s in a tricky location, but the Empire was the strongest on the continent for a very long time. He may fear that Sundenelle is recklessly selling herself to a foreign nation, but he can’t deny the obvious fact that the Fievegal is too great a threat to overtly challenge.

  Whether or not she can claim the loyalty she seeks from her intended husband will remain to be seen.

  ***

  Daniel and the dragon Empresses, as well as Roetta, follow Gold as she leads the way to the entrance to her secret vault. She selected a group of loyal acolytes of the Unity of the Dragons to collectively watch over the eggs. She’s the only one that can lift the barrier to enter, meaning even the acolytes have spent the last couple of weeks trapped inside the subterranean compound. They have plenty of supplies, but Daniel does have some concerns, since the acolytes can be a little overzealous about their cult-like religion for the dragons. If Gold or the Empresses asked the acolytes to offer their hands to the hatchlings for food, most of them would simply ask to offer their feet instead.

  “Is there any risk that the eggs hatched or the children will imprint before hatching?” asks Daniel.

  “There may be some attachment,” replies Gold, “But they will develop the strongest bond like any other children. Probably. Who’s to say?” She shrugs non-chalantly.

  Ryuogriar adds to reassure him, “Our instincts are quite keen, as you saw with Geira, Mukori. If there were a concern, we would be compelled to protect the eggs ourselves even more fervently.”

  “The acolytes only have the Unity,” adds Reignleif. “They know the stakes if they cause us harm. Their existence would be purged, and the acolytes would be forbidden from ever banding together again.”

  “They would not dare cross us,” adds Geirahoel. “Not when we are the wives of the Harbinger of Calamity, who singlehandedly struck down the former Dragon Lord. Death would be a relaxing getaway compared to what I would do.”

  “I’m surprised they weren’t slaves to Morty,” retorts the human jokingly.

  “They’ve offered before,” replies Gold. “Generally, it’s more effort than it’s worth, since a real test of their loyalty would be to police themselves.”

  Gold opens the vault, and the group enters together. The first thing Daniel notices is one of the elderly women singing. Among the goals for the acolytes, they were to keep the eggs clean, warm, and walk them around while talking and singing to them in order to give the hatchlings stimulation.

  As they enter the common area, though, Daniel is met with a sight he wasn’t ready for. One of the acolytes whistles to draw everyone’s attention, and those who are not actively holding eggs rush briskly to greet all of them.

  “Your Divine Graces, welcome back.”

  Gold is wearing her usual affable and aloof smile, and she’s surprised when a pair of human fingers pinch her cheek.

  “Gold…” growls Daniel as he keeps his eyes closed. There are men and women present.

  “Oh… Uh… That…” remarks Gold.

  “Yes. That.”

  “F-Funny story, Harbinger… I… Uh…”

  Daniel twists his fingers a little bit. He doesn’t have the strength to actually cause the dragons harm, but she does moan a little, since she can feel it more than not.

  “I-I’m sowwy…”

  “Can you explain this?”

  “Yesh…”

  Daniel releases her, and he turns away from the acolytes, saying, “Mukoris, Roetta, please take over so the acolytes can get dressed.”

  “Yes, Mukori,” replies Ryuogriar with a cheeky tone, while the other three giggle together.

  One of the acolytes who hurried over replies respectfully, “Your Grace, you need not concern yourself with us. We are happy to serve loyally as guided by her Holiness.”

  “Her ‘Holiness’ also enjoys being naked casually,” retorts Daniel as he scowls at the blonde dragon, who bashfully smiles with a guilty expression. “I don’t care what you wear, but I do ask that you have the naughty bits covered up.”

  “This is my fault,” replies Gold. “I did in fact make them surrender their clothes to make sure there weren’t any possible traitors among them. I just… forgot to actually instruct them to wear the clothes I provided for them.”

  “And, did you provide them clothing?”

  “I did!”

  “Her Holiness speaks the truth, your Grace,” offers the senior-most male acolyte. “We became aware of the clothing in the dressers of our barracks sections, but we collectively decided that they were for emergencies only.”

  Daniel massages his temples for a moment, and Ryuogriar returns to his side while carrying her eggs. “Mukori, do go easy on Gold. This room feels plenty comfortable.”

  The mechanic sighs, and the same acolyte confirms, “That is correct. We ensured that the room was maintained at a comfortable level for us. This experience was an excellent and purifying experience for the soul.”

  Absolute clowns. I’m surrounded by clowns.

  Daniel takes a deep breath and exhales for a long time. He asks Ryuogriar softly, “Any issues?” He pets the shell of one of the eggs gently, and a strange, somewhat-frog-like sound croaks out of the egg. It halts Daniel’s hand, and Ryuogriar coos, “She’s ready to meet us, it seems.”

  Geirahoel and Reignleif rush over as well. Geirahoel’s egg was the first one to make sounds when she declared it to everyone, but they were so quiet, Daniel couldn’t really hear them.

  This time, though, he could hear the voice of a being within the egg. He laughs softly, adding tenderly, “That makes two of us.”

  Gold playfully leans close to the egg, hugging it as she teases, “Oh, thank you sweet Princess. You’ve saved me…”

  “Has she?” asks Daniel skeptically.

  “Mm-hmm. You’re incapable of staying angry at someone lovable like me if I did a good job by your children.” She kisses the egg shell, petting the other one as well. She stands upright and proudly gestures at her own collar as she says in her usual tone, “I am far from perfect, and I’ll never deny it. But, you have to admit I did at least this much well, hmm?”

  Daniel scoffs. “Yeah, you did well. Thank you, Gold.”

  She grins at him, and with that, she flirtatiously presses close to Daniel, and she blows on his lips for a moment before bounding off giddily to retrieve her own egg from the cradle nearby, where Roeta is cradling hers and talking to it affectionately.

  “Ah, that reminds me. Gold, I’ve been giving it thought.”

  The boisterous blonde perks up, and she returns to the group, with Roeta joining her.

  “I don’t know, Harbinger. I’m not as brave as the Empresses, but if you really want me to produce milk as well…”

  Daniel licks his teeth in minor exasperation, though he has a smirk, since he can take a friendly jab or two. “Not quite. Neith told me about your request, so I’ve given it thought since. I’m running out of deities and other spiritual beings, but if you still want me to pick…”

  “Let’s hear it,” states the dragon warmly. She presses close to Daniel and leans her back against his chest. “It’s a real privilege to receive a name from the Harbinger of Calamity.”

  “If you want to stick with Gold, I don’t mind.”

  She shakes her head. “No, I want to hear what you’ve come up with. Is it the name of another of your war goddesses?”

  “No,” replies Daniel. “Wilderness and nature, if I remember right. Symbols of freedom and untameable existence.”

  This embarrasses the dragon a little, while Ryuogriar hums in approval, and Reignleif adds, “I think that’s suitable.”

  “You better have names ready for our children, Mukori,” warns Geirahoel. “If you force me to choose, I will pick something you won’t be able to pronounce.”

  Daniel laughs. “That will be significantly easier. So, for you, Gold, the name I’ve been giving thought to is based on ‘Devana’, though more along the lines of her roots; ‘Jeavana’.”

  “Jeavana?” repeats the golden dragon thoughtfully. “It’s… actually… kind of a pretty name…”

  Daniel laughs. “I can try to think of some ‘uglier’ names if you’d like. ‘Shi’theed’... Smitty Werbenjaegermanjensen… Sil-...”

  Gold bops the back of her head into Daniel’s cheek to stop him, and he laughs while she turns around to face him. “‘Jeavana’ will do. Thank you,... Daniel.”

  “Uh-oh,” jokes Daniel. “She must want something. She’s being nice.”

  The other dragons snicker, and the newly-dubbed Jeavana blushes. “Mind your teasing, Harbinger. Auntie Jeavana has a great deal of influence over your children. They may enjoy running around in their natural state as well…”

  “I haven’t freed you yet, Jeavana. If you don’t want to be on forever-diaper-duty,...”

  The dragon holds her left hand up, while the right holds her egg. “I surrender.”

  Everyone shares a laugh, and Daniel thanks the acolytes. “Thank you all for your service and loyalty. You’re free to take the next couple of weeks off to relax and rest. I expect we’ll be calling on you for help again soon enough.”

  “We are proud to serve the Divine Dragons, your Grace,” replies one of the middle-seniority acolytes present. “As Brother Shomaldun said, it was a refreshing and soulful experience.”

  “I do appreciate it. I hope you will help us look after the children as well.”

  “To bear witness to the birth of the newest generation of dragons for the first time in a lifetime for we who are bound to the soil is a true honor and privilege.”

  During this, Geirahoel has her cheek close to her egg, and she makes a strange clicking noise combined with a musical hum from in her throat. The child inside the egg makes a squeaking noise that captivates the group momentarily, and the orange dragon realizes that everyone is watching her. She replies sheepishly, “I-... It’s almost time.”

  “Can you tell?” asks Daniel sincerely.

  “I-... It’s not exact, but… I think… Tomorrow sometime.”

  Daniel softens his posture. He has promises to keep, and a lot of a mess to deal with.

  “I have to keep my promise to Senn…”

  “Then, Hekate will go with you and use Return when the time comes,” states Ryuogriar. “Your morning will start early. So be ready for it.”

  Daniel nods. “Let us know as soon as it starts.”

  “You don’t have to worry so much, Mukori,” offers Reignleif gently. “It will only be our first eggs.”

  “We’ll tell them the truth as soon as we can, but I will adopt them. I do worry that their defense mechanisms will be especially dangerous for me, but we’ll work on it.”

  The dragon women smile gently, and he looks at Roeta. “We’ll make sure you and Magnir can be with your egg as well, as soon as yours starts hatching.”

  “Thank you, your Grace. And, just a warning… Mukori and I intend to start on our second one immediately.”

  “Don’t threaten me with good news,” jokes the mechanic. “My army grows stronger.” Daniel gives a soft evil laugh, while the women around him scoff at him and escort him out of the vault. The acolytes, dressed in comfortable robes, follow at a respectful distance. Daniel still feels weird about having borderline true cultists following him around, but he reassures himself that they aren’t worshipping him, and he can rationalize to himself why they worship the dragons, since they are undeniably powerful.

  He’s thankful that the people around him are his family now, because he truly wouldn’t be able to survive as long as he has otherwise.

  And, he would have far less reason to push himself to do so.

  ***