It was a beautiful day to be She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold.

The wind and the gray caressed her scales when she took flight, their presence light and familiar. Far above the city, the overwhelmimg smell of stupid borgling things faded into pure morning crispness. In the air, she felt truly free, truly herself. Fluffy white clouds called her to play as they drifted above, blown south and away from the deep blue ocean. She considered piercing through to the sun above but reconsidered. She decided to show foresight! Planning! Vision! Just like mother did when she wanted something.

Yes, She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold was a profound thinker and a visionary, a true light of knowledge. Her amazing mental prowess let her know in advance that she would regret her decision if she answered the call of the flight, for above the clouds, there was nothing to eat.

And she was really hungry.

She was always hungry, these days. Sometimes, mother said she had spent too much time in the sad cave before mother found her, and now she was catching up. The dragonette did not like to think about that time. The cave had been filled with starvation and pain and fear and what she knew now was hopelessness. Thinking was not meant to make a dragon sad! It was meant to make a dragon RICH. And sated. So she thought and did not have to think for long. There was always a reliable way to get food.

She angled her wings down and forward and used a little gray to move faster, the world bending just so to get her closer to her goal. The azure of the sky merged into the cobalt of the ocean almost seamlessly, but there was white as well, the white of low happy clouds, the ephemeral spume marking the waves, and the more geometrical dye of sails.

More specifically, fishing ship sails.

She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold looked around, bending the world a little to help her already prodigious sight. Just like mother’s mate had shown her. It was already mid-morning and the huddling mass of masts had spread out to find schools of prey. Most of it would be too small to provide good nourishment. She could afford to be picky, these days. Also, it would not be fun and mother had taught her that good prey was fun to catch. Like the prince thing. Shortly, she found a charcoal rendition of herself reverently drawn upon a large sheet and dove, descending with speed towards this specific ship.

It was a large one, as far as human floaties were. She was pretty sure she’d seen it before, teetering on the edge of dangerous waters hunting for larger prey. It even had teeth mounted on large crossbow things to snatch unsuspecting food. Yes, she had probably used it before. Hard to be sure. Those borgling humans all looked the same to her, and their imprint on the world was so small. Not like mother. She hoped mother would grow scales at some point. All she was growing now was hair. Maybe she should eat more.

She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold let out what absolutely had to be a terrifying and mighty roar, a harbinger of the apex existence to come. The humans heard and spotted her. The one with the biggest hat pointed at her and all turned with hushed reverence. It was probably the head borgler. They borgled the most and could be recognized by having either the biggest hat or the most colorful plumage. Like birds. Very easy.

The dragonette landed on the railing and spread her wings to assert dominance. With aesthetically pleasing coordination, the humans bowed deeply to acknowledge their respective place in the hierarchy of everything. The hat man took a few steps forward and fell to his knees. He started to point and gesticulate towards some indeterminate direction to the side in a language She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold did not recognize yet and how annoying it was that humans had languages that they expressed by vibrating their mouth orifices and flapping their fleshy bits around like fat rolls on an old cornudon. She understood the gist of it because she was very, very smart. And also because they had done this dozens of times. She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold needed a lot of food and the lands around the city had little wildlife. And seafood was tasty also.

Taking off, the dragonette went to hunt. Oh, she was a smart hunter. The smartest. Mother had taught her the meaning of bait. She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold was not just smart, she was sneaky and patient. The best. And so she moved above the flowing tide, slow and low, doing a lot of thinks.

Am fat bird.

Fat bird.

Very fat bird.

Come on eat me.

Eat fat bird.

And it worked. One moment she was flying through air and gray mana, the next a spike of blue under her wing heralded the coming of an attack. A ball of infused water as large as she was launched up, catching her entirely. Then, it immediately pulled back down.

She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold went with the flow and retracted her wings, taking over some of the blue to stabilize her fall. As she hit the water, she flexed her own power and took control over more of it. Her dive ended in the center mass of a chewy-leg. Its two eyes widened and it flayed its eight appendages in a terrible panic, trying to grab the attacker it had thought was a victim.

The dragonette tore into her opponent with relentless fury, the water no obstacle to her. The sea was just another place of weightlessness. Claws raked a thick hide. Her teeth dug into the hard flesh and gnawed, tasting the sweet meat. The chewy-leg struggled to escape. It did not know that it was still stronger, still dominant, because it was a dumb predator caught off guard and it could not think. Not like She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold. Their struggle continued as they slowly sunk in an ever changing dance. Sometimes the dragonette was up, sometimes she was down, but she was never stopping. The moment she did, the chewy-leg would realize she was less than a quarter of its weight and not that strong yet. It took a little while but eventually the beast managed to catch her six limbs into its eight and squeezed. She could feel its tiny suction-claws digging into her scales, trying to peel them off her skin.

So she did like mother and sent spears of power into its eyes.

The creature was fast and it dodged, but not fast enough. One orb was lost and the other closed when the spear removed some cheek. Blood leaked from the opening, thick and heavy. She knew it was ready to fall, and so she waited. Patient hunter. She would be rewarded soon.

The beast shook with pain, tremor traveling along the boneless body. The dragonette bit more and clawed more and did not let it rest. She pressed it until it was trapped and finally, finally did what she had been waiting for all this time. It turned and exposed its beaked core to take a bite off the magnificent dragon harrying it. Just as planned! The smartest dragon waited for the fateful moment with giddy anticipation. Truly, she was as smart as she was strong and fast and patient and good-looking.

The beak opened. The dragon breathed a plume of smokey dark fire. The superheated ‘werfer’ was so powerful the water around them boiled, which was also a very important pre-cooking step. Infused black mana carried destruction into the beast’s innards, annihilating enough of it to end its life. It spasmed and constricted She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold in the grasp of its dying limbs, yet the dragonette held no fear. The struggle was over.

She willed a ball of blue light to breach the shiny surface of the sea above. It rose through the air like a second sun to announce the news of her glorious victory to the world at large. Soon enough, the flat bottom of the ship reached her and men dove under the water just as she finished disentangling herself from her prize. They attached ropes and pointy things and hoisted the beast out of the water. The dragonette launched out with a flex of will, taking to the air with a triumphant roar of rage that was very impressive and very adult because all the humans stopped and bowed deeply to her.

Now was the time for her due reward.

The crew gathered around the carcass, butchering it and bringing her the choicest morsels. She nodded at those she fancied and the men placed the precious flesh on skewers which they covered in spicy sauce. The captain himself got a brasero going to supervise the cooking himself, which he delegated to the head roaster. Once the meal was done, he kneeled in front of her and presented her with her due tribute: two gold talents.

Those shone just as beautifully as the first ones she had looked at, all those many days ago in the mountain. Shiny ridges caught the light of the noon sun in mesmerizing patterns. They were soft and warm under her claws.

After inspecting each one with great care — one of the fishermen had tried to give her a bad one and his eyebrows were still regrowing — the dragonette placed each on the slightly larger pouch around her neck, never wondering why it grew in size to match her nor why it was just as light as before. She patted the artifact with satisfaction, then attacked the meal laid before her.

The hat man and his chief brasero handler or whatever the humans called the individual in charge of cooking stayed by her side to attend to her needs. Sometimes, she would request some more sauce and they would diligently glaze the crisp flesh until she gestured them to stop. The feast lasted until she was full and sleepy, then the ship sailed back with the rest of the carcass and herself.

She-Who-Feasts-On-Many-And-Gets-Much-Gold woke up from her nap in the early afternoon and dove for a soak, then she left the fishermen behind to hunt for eggs among the cliffs.

***

Night had fallen and the light of Nyil’s moon shone on the strange floating rocks above the skies of Helock, with the distant shape of the chalice dominating its lessers. All of this Viv saw through the small aperture of a filthy window because she was inside a warehouse, bored out of her mind.

Hurry up and wait was the name of the game in Nyil as well. This was Solfis’ operation, and she was in position to receive fleeing assassins if any escaped the golem’s wrath. The operation had yet to start, however, and she and her picked squad of disposable goons guarded one of the possible exits in awkward silence.

Dust filled the air. Shelves lined the interior, all of them loaded to the brim with crates and barrels. It was warm and didn’t smell very good. Viv could hear rats scurrying around dark corners. She idly scratched the back of her borrowed gauntlet to chase away a phantom itch. Maybe tonight they would finally put an end to Sidjin’s saga of academic revenge and she could put that out of her mind. Focus on gaining Elunath’s favors, since Solfis’ strange new ally still refused to communicate with her directly.

Weird how what amounted to intellectual property theft ended up in a dark building with a lethal trap rather than in a courtroom. But that wasn’t her fault this time.

Silence reigned outside despite the relatively early hour. The city was tense with a sense of foreboding that extended to the squad within. Viv had taken every precaution she could think of. She wore enchanted armor meant for assassins with a hastily patched hole near the heart, a sign it had been recently ‘liberated’ from its previous owner. Knit runes facilitated the use of black mana and some mail protected her vitals. She also wore a helmet of dark steel and her yries- made roundshield. The passage leading down had been warded and its threshold reinforced by an improvised shield circle just in case. Truly, she had prepared as much as she could. Despite that, she couldn’t help but feel a nervous tension. A little introspection told her why.

She wasn’t in charge.

Not that Solfis couldn’t be trusted, but most of the previous actions she had been in were planned and commanded by her with valuable input from qualified people. She had led the Kazarans to take back their city, then led the newly minted Harrakans to defend their land. The raid on Sterek’s lab had been her brain child. Even in the rare case someone like Solar had led, she had been at the center of the action as a war caster. But now she was back to being a grunt, not even a strategic piece. Solfis, Sidjin, and Lim the Fell-Handed led the various teams responsible for closing in on the assassin den from every direction and killing them to the last to avoid grudges. She was just a cog this time, a safety valve for a secondary entrance.

Viv checked the spell arrays with her mind one last time. Everything was working as intended. It should be time now.

Somewhere in the distance, there was a crash.

The squad tensed, all four of them around Viv. Their posture went from casual to ready. They wore dark armor like her as well as an assortment of weapons. One even had a shield. Viv strapped on her own, the cumbersome and over-decorated disc familiar in her hands. She paid attention to the wards. In the distance, a muffled scream echoed. She was not sure if it came from outside or from the narrow entrance leading down.

They waited.

Maybe no one would come this way. It was a possibility.

Viv cursed herself for thinking that. Provoking the spark of luck was the surest way to conjure some sort of horror. Maybe the assassins would release a battalion of monkeys infected with a zombie virus, thus plunging the world into an age of terrible body odor.

While part of Viv’s mind did wander, most of it was dedicated to the wards and their function. Magically enhanced intellect was truly something. It would not make you smart but it would make you stupid with peerless intensity and attention to detail. And of course, the wards activated soon enough.

“Contact,” she whispered.

Nothing happened. The opening in front of them remained a dark pit, but Viv was sure of herself. Her wards were especially sensitive to black mana. Something had crossed them.

She was not going to wait. Anyone escaping an assassin’s den and using black mana was a target for her. Viv was going to strike first, but something held her back, a remnant of her past. Rules of engagement. She had not yet determined those were hostiles, technically.

She sent a small net anyway and the shadows exploded outward.

Time slowed in her perception. She activated the gate’s shield which blocked someone but two others stepped through the shadows to escape the enclosing walls of energy. While she was so close and paying attention, the use was definitely intent-altered black mana. She could almost taste it. She lifted her round shield and coated herself rather than attacking. Her danger sense screamed and something pinged against the steel pane held in front of her chest. An instant later, a light drain near her head informed her that another projectile had been stopped. She hadn’t sensed this one coming.

Her four squad members were engaging the two shades. The head shade had blocked a nasty sword strike and was now rolling backward like a ninja, ready to move through the darkness again. Viv felt where it would reappear and nailed them in the back. They let out a high-pitched scream.

“Lyssa!” the second shade screamed, distracted. Clearly a young man.

One of her goons did not let that opportunity go to waste. The second shade received a blade in the neck for his trouble and fell, gurgling his lifeblood away. Viv opened her shield and cast at the same time, piercing the chest of the third one in multiple places. He fell without a noise. He had not resisted.

Viv considered the trio as she reactivated the wards. The goons moved their bodies in a pile on the side. From the cheap weapons to the size of their bodies under poorly dyed fabric, Viv could tell those were… apprentices. No older than eighteen for sure. The guild was evacuating their younger members into her net.

“Merde…” she cursed to herself.

Nyil had her killing kids. Never a good thing, even though they were trained murderers. She closed her eyes and focused, centering herself. The high mental stats she enjoyed allowed her to push aside guilt and regret with disquieting ease. It had to be done for Sidjin and for those who did not deserve to die because a rich person had decided they should. Soon, all that remained in her mind was the gaping maw leading underground and the protections she had placed there. Dull screams of agony and clashes of steel echoed, far away, their sounds strangely distorted by the distance. All five watchers waited quietly. Viv felt her anxiety spike despite the lack of action. It was as if something ominous was coming.

It took her perhaps two seconds, an embarrassingly long amount of time, to realize that it was not anxiety she was feeling.

Danger Sense: Intermediate 5