Flying high over the rolling hills, they passed over a winding road where a few travelers pointed up, watching in awe.

  Damon shifted in the saddle, trying to get comfortable as the wind tugged at his coat. Sivares flew steadily below, her wings cutting through the air. Up ahead, an old fort appeared, its outer walls battered and scorched from a war long past.

  As they approached, Damon noticed movement along the battlements. Cannons rotated, and guards scrambled to position.

  "They’re aiming at us," Sivares muttered.

  "Yeah. Just keep your distance," Damon replied, guiding her into a wide arc. “We’ll give them no excuse.”

  A few shots rang out as blasts of mana and iron shot into the sky, but none reached them. Still, each boom made Sivares flinch, her wings trembling a bit.

  “They missed,” Damon said calmly. “We're safe.”

  Sivares stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes locked on the fort and her heart still racing. The difference between the friendly village they’d just left and this tense, guarded place struck her deeply.

  Another blast was fired from the fort, but it fell short and moved too slowly. Even so, it shook her nerves.

  “…Will I ever really be wanted?” she asked quietly.

  Damon looked down at the fort, then back ahead. “One day,” he said. “Right now, humans are still scared. But as our name spreads… each time we don’t burn a town to the ground, they’ll start to get used to the idea.”

  “You think so?”

  “Humans are some of the greediest people I know,” Damon said, grinning. “But there’s one kind of person they always like, the one who gets them what they want.”

  Sivares snorted. “Are you that greedy?”

  “Absolutely,” Damon said without hesitation. “Probably the greediest person I know.”

  She laughed. “Then what do you want?”

  He spread his arms wide to the sky. “This. I want this. To fly. To travel. To go places. To see the world.”

  He leaned forward, resting a hand gently against her warm scales.

  “And I can only do it with your help. So thank you, Sivares.”

  Her heart lifted just a little at that.

  “…You’re welcome.”

  As the old fort faded behind them, the land ahead changed suddenly and sharply.

  They saw it.

  A massive landslide.

  It wasn’t just a few boulders or fallen trees. Nearly half a mile of the road was buried under a wall of stone and debris. Jagged rocks, broken earth, and whole trees were tangled together, blocking the mountain pass as if nature had closed it off.

  “So this is why no one’s heard from Dustwharf in two years,” Damon muttered, eyes scanning the mess. “Think they’re okay?”

  Below, a small work crew chipped away at the blockage, trying to clear a path. But their efforts froze as Sivares flew overhead. Shouts rang out from the ground, most too faint to catch, but one echoed clearly up to them.

  “Dragon!”

  They flew over the pass.

  Sivares winced. Her wing had started aching again. “Damon… think we could rest soon?”

  He glanced down at her with concern, then scanned the land below.

  “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Look, see that lake near the bend? Big tree just off to the right?”

  “The one that sticks out like a sore scale?”

  “That’s the one. First detour we’re taking.”

  She blinked. “Wait… really?”

  “Yep,” he said with a grin. “That’s Honeiwood. It’s a small town with good people. It’s the perfect place to stretch your wings and rest.”

  She gave a small smile, banking toward the tree. “Then let’s stop by. My wings are definitely voting yes.”

  As they landed near the clearing, Damon called out, “How’s your wing holding up?”

  Sivares stretched her wing, wincing a little. “It’s not as bad now, but I don’t think I was meant to fly this much. I’ve gone from cave potato to long-haul courier.”

  “Yeah, well, you did spend, what, a century in that cave?” Damon smirked. “You’re using muscles you haven’t used in ages. It’s like waking up and running a marathon.”

  “I feel like I did a marathon… while carrying a boulder on my back.”

  He patted her shoulder. “The good news is, we can walk the rest of the way. Honeiwood is just past the trees. Make sure the parley flag is easy to see. No one likes surprise dragons.”ible and flapping,” she confirmed, adjusting the little white flag tied near her saddle strap.

  As they neared the edge of the woods, dozens of tiny lights flickered between the trees. The soft, watchful glows moved with purpose.

  Damon froze and gently tapped his foot against Sivares’ side to signal her to stop.

  She stopped instantly.

  Cupping his hands to his mouth, Damon called out toward the trees, “Delivery! We’ve got a parcel for the town of Honeiwood! From Wenverer!”

  There was a long pause.

  Then one of the lights darted toward them like a curious firefly. As it got closer, they saw it was a mouse riding a strong, broad-winged bird. The glow came from the mouse’s small hands, casting soft, magical light all around.

  The rider circled them once, taking in the sight of the dragon and the human and watching their reactions.

  Then, confident they weren’t hostile, the mouse swooped down and landed gracefully on Sivares’ back, right in front of Damon.

  The mouse spoke first, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Oy. So you’re not here to burn down our home, then?”

  “Nope,” Damon said, holding up both hands peacefully. “Just making a delivery. Name’s Damon, and this is Sivares.”

  He gave a nod toward the dragon beneath him.

  The mouse huffed. “A human with manners. That’s rarer than a dragon.”

  Sivares muttered, “Rude.”

  The mouse ignored her, eyes flicking toward the satchel strapped at Damon’s side. “Names Barly So… just delivering mail?”

  “Yup,” Damon said, patting the bag. “Letters, parcels, the usual. And maybe we’ll rest our legs or wings for a bit. We’re not here to cause trouble.”

  Barly studied them a moment longer. Then, with a skeptical grunt, he lowered his glowing hand.

  “Alright,” he said at last. “Welcome to Honeiwood… I guess. Keep your claws sheathed and your flames tucked in, and we’ll get along fine.”

  “Understood,” Damon said with a nod.

  Sivares gave a low chuckle. “See? We’re already making friends.”

  The mouse shot her a look. “Temporary acquaintances, scaled one.”

  “Just wait here,” the mouse said. “We’ll send someone to count everything.”

  “All right,” Damon replied with a nod. “Yup, we mean no harm.”

  With that, Barly and his bird launched into the air, wings beating back toward the treeline. One by one, the lights scattered through the woods blinked out, until only the quiet of nature remained.

  Sivares tilted her head. “So this is Honeiwood.”

  “Yup,” Damon said, watching the tree line. “I’ve heard they’re some of the best mages around. Don’t let their size fool you, one of their casters can out-duel a full-grown human wizard in spellcraft.”

  He slid off her back and gave a stretch. “Well, guess we’re setting up camp while they sort through the mail.”

  He walked to the lake’s edge and started unpacking their supplies, untying the fish that was nearly as long as he was tall.

  “Lunch,” Damon chirped, dropping it on the ground.

  “Hope you’re hungry.”

  Sivares lay down nearby, tail curling lazily. “I could get used to this kind of delivery route.”

  With practiced ease, Damon used his knives to scale and clean the massive fish, which was nearly the size of his torso. He skewered thick slices onto sticks while Sivares dug a shallow fire pit. After she placed the wood, she lit it with a gentle puff of flame.

  Soon, the smell of cooking fish drifted through the trees. Damon added a bit of salt from the coast, and the sizzle made Sivares’ stomach rumble.

  “Here,” Damon said, holding out a bite. “Fresh off the fire.”

  Sivares leaned in, sniffed, then took it carefully with her teeth. Her ears twitched as she chewed. “You’re a good cook.”

  “Nah,” Damon shrugged, smirking. “I just know my way around. You should try Delia’s cooking back home. That girl could turn pig slop into royal feast food.”

  They shared a quiet laugh, enjoying the simple moment.

  Then came the sound of fluttering wings.

  An enormous white-feathered albatross swooped down and landed nearby, stirring up leaves and dust. Clinging to its back was a silver-furred mouse in a tiny postmaster's uniform, gripping the reins like her life depended on it.

  She slowly climbed down, her legs stiff, trying not to stare at the dragon. She cleared her throat twice before squeaking out:

  “G-good afternoon! I, uh… am Twing the acting Postmaster of Honeiwood… a-and I would just like to ask that you p-please don’t eat me kindly!”

  She bowed so fast her hat nearly flew off, then added, “I, I was told you had mail! Very excited to retrieve it! Thank you for not burning anything! You’re doing amazing!”

  Her smile was all teeth and terror. Damon blinked. Sivares tilted her head like a curious cat.

  “…Well,” Damon said, “At least she’s polite.”

  With patience and care, Damon pulled out a letter and a small wrapped parcel, both marked for Honeiwood.

  “Here,” he said, placing them gently on the ground in front of the jittery silver-furred mouse. “One letter, one package. No tricks.”

  Twing blinked. “Wait… real mail?”

  “Yep,” Damon said, handing her a folded flyer as well. “And here’s this. Scale & Mail: You sign it, we fly it.” The flyer had a cartoonish sketch of a smiling dragon hauling a mailbag, tail curled into the shape of a stamp.

  More mice descended from the albatross using tiny levitation spells, glowing glyphs swirling beneath their paws. One hovered over the package, guiding it with slow precision, while another gently took the letter from Twing.

  Twing nodded with exaggerated professionalism. “Ahem. Your delivery has been officially received. That’ll be… six copper coins.”

  A pouch floated over to Damon. He plucked it from the air with a grin.

  Sivares raised an eyebrow. “You use magic for everything?”

  Twing huffed. “We have to, dealing with you giants! His boot,” she said, pointing at Damon’s foot, “could house a whole family back home!”

  Damon snorted. “Fair.”

  “Just… you’re not staying long, right?” Twing asked, eyeing Sivares’s tail with a mixture of awe and terror.

  Damon glanced up at the dragon beside him. Sivares stretched her wings with a low creak.

  “Maybe after lunch,” she said, a bit smug as the smell of roasted fish wafted past. “We’ll be on our way.”

  Twing caught the scent mid-breath. Her ears perked, nose twitching. “Is… is that fish?”

  Damon chuckled. “Caught it this morning.”

  A visible wave of relief washed over the little mouse. “Oh, thank goodness. You're just travelers. With lunch. Not… fire and doom.”

  “Not today,” Sivares said, smiling just enough to be cheeky.

  Twing nearly fainted.

  As Twing and the other mice finished loading the mail onto the albatross, there was a flutter of wings, and just like that, they vanished into the treetops, gliding toward Honeiwood.

  Damon let out a slow breath, brushing soot from his hands as he looked over the doused fire pit. “Well, that went better than expected.”

  Sivares gave a contented sigh, licking a last bit of roasted fish from her claws. “Surprisingly polite for folks who thought we might torch their village.”

  “Still wish I had the proper satchel, though,” Damon grumbled, strapping the current mailbag back in place. “These straps are murder on my shoulder.”

  Sivares crouched low as Damon climbed onto her back and secured his gear. With a running leap and a strong beat of her wings, they were airborne again, flying over the hills as the glinting lake shrank below them.

  Neither of them noticed the faint shift.

  A slight, subtle movement in Damon’s mailbag.

  Something inside had stirred. Quietly.

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

  Back in Wenverer, Talvan and the others huddled around a map, its edges pinned beneath half-drained mugs and dented gear. The air was tense.

  “With the nearest Griffin Riders on the other side of the mountains,” Talvan muttered, “it could take months before they even catch up to the dragon, if they do at all. Who knows how much damage it’ll do in the meantime.”

  With a heavy thud, Revy dropped a leather scroll onto the table. “That’s just it, it hasn’t,” she said, frowning as she read the report that had arrived by bird.

  Talvan raised an eyebrow. “Hasn’t what?”

  “Hasn’t done any damage. None of the places the dragon has passed through has reported destruction. Not even scorch marks,” Revy said. “The worst I could find was a flower field; it apparently rolled onto me while sleeping.”

  Leryea scoffed. “Dragons don’t just lie down in flowers and take naps, Revy. They’re apex predators, not oversized pets.”

  Revy held up a hand. “I’m just telling you what the reports say. And let’s be honest, none of us has actually seen a dragon before. All we know are stories from older generations.”

  Talvan’s expression darkened. “I’ve seen the damage. My grandfather took me to one of the old villages… and the ruins of a city. Both were torched by dragon fire. I still remember the bones fused to the stone.”

  A long silence followed.

  Revy spoke softly this time. “I’m not saying we drop our guard. I’m saying we need more information before we decide how to act. Charging in blind might do more harm than good.”

  Leryea crossed her arms, uneasy. “So what? We wait while a dragon flies free?”

  Talvan exhaled, rubbing his eyes. “No. We prepare. But we don’t assume we’re dealing with a monster… not until we know it is one.”

  “So what can we even do?” Leryea asked, arms crossed tightly.

  Talvan rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe we could try cutting through the Thornwood here.” He tapped the map. “It’s risky, but shorter.”

  “Sure,” Leryea replied dryly. “But the horses won’t make it through that mess. Still, it’s faster than riding halfway across the kingdom just to beg a Griffin Knight for a ride on a giant lion-bird.”

  “Ugh,” Revy groaned, flopping onto a bench. “How is chasing a dragon somehow harder than fighting a sea monster?”

  “Because,” Talvan said with a grimace, “we didn’t have to spend weeks running after the sea monster. It came to us.”

  Revy sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Maybe we should just head back to Homblom. It has to come back that way eventually, right?”

  Talvan let his head fall forward with a thunk against the table. “I just wish the dragon would show up already… so we can go home.”

  Just then, the tavern door creaked open. A tired-looking courier walked in, posted a flyer on the message board near the entrance, and left without a word.

  Revy glanced up and froze.

  “…That’s going to be a problem.”

  The others followed her gaze. A fresh wanted poster now hung on the board, ink still damp.

  WANTED: BLACK DRAGON – DEAD

  Reward: 100 Gold Coins

  Issued by: Duke Deolron

  Leryea’s face darkened. “Great. Even if the dragon is peaceful, every wannabe hunter in the kingdom is going to get themselves killed trying to bag it.”

  Talvan stood, jaw tight. “We move. Thornwood, today. One way or another… we’re ending this before it gets worse.”

  Revy grabbed the papers on the table. "Agree."

  Talvan headed for the door, the others falling in silently behind him.