"You're safe now, my Queen," Ednae said softly when the horn had been blown.

"Hang on, what—?"

Before her question could be answered, the wind suddenly picked up, though in waves. A huge gust at three second intervals, almost like a massive paper fan in the sky was beating down upon them. The thought was silly until she heard the wingbeats from above. [Y/n] turned her head to the sky, eyes wide as she watched a giant figure block her view, darkening the clearing in an instant. Massive reptile-like feet clung to a large rock at the side of the clearing as the colossal creature steadied itself.

A dragon - not one of those strange, velociraptor-horse hybrid-like lesser dragons - an actual dragon as portrayed in fairytales. The only thing that differed from the dragons in her culture and the dragon that stood before her now were the feathers that appeared here and there, like on the ridge of its back, the back of its wings and around the side of its face. His body was a deep grey colour, though the light caught on his scales and occasionally green and purple hues reflected back.

[Y/n] turned to look at Ednae, who bowed yet again. The dragon seemed to let out a gruff sigh before shifting into a form much, much smaller and more reassuring than that of a dragon. Now, in the great beast's place, a modest looking man with long grey hair stood. He wore old-fashioned clothes that were certainly more on the formal side and had piercing pink eyes, but the most noticeable attributes the male adorned would easily be the grey horns that sat atop his head, and the dragon's tail that slowly flicked from side to side, almost in a cat-like manner, as though symbolising that he was mildly agitated. He watched [Y/n] with relative suspicion, before turning to Ednae once more.

"Ednae, what on earth is it this time?" His voice was low, as expected of someone who's other body rivalled the size of a blue whale.

Ednae turned to look at the perplexed girl beside her, before returning her gaze to the dragon-man. "Feron, its her."

The man, who's name appeared to be 'Feron', blinked in shock. The girl didn't seem anything impressive - yes, she matched said girl's description, but hadn't she been wearing combat clothes? The girl described to him was confident and strong, whereas this girl looked as though her world was falling to pieces around her. Though of course clothes could be changed and days had passed since the report on her appearance, however Feron simply couldn't believe that this... leaf of a girl... was their next queen.

"Her? Ednae, we're leaving," Feron groaned, an exasperated huff escaping him. Raising his hopes for no reason... 'centaurs' he thought to himself. To his surprise, however, Ednae's eyes widened and she shook her head instantly.

"No, sir, you're mistaken!" She quickly turned to look at [Y/n] again. "Please, tell him your name. Tell him how you got here." [Y/n] furrowed her brow before meeting the judging gaze of the grey haired man before her.

"Um... my name is [Y/n]..." she said quietly. At this, he seemed intrigued. "I was brought to some underground kingdom a few months ago, a-and... umm..." [Y/n] struggled to find any simple way of 'summarising' everything that had happened. Feron placed his index finger against his lip in a thoughtful manner turning his eyes down to the ground. He couldn't be sure, but perhaps it would be in his interests to play along for a moment.

"So you escaped their regime? We'd assumed as much, though I was curious as to how you'd ended up with the king..." he tailed off. Noting the confused look on [Y/n]'s face, Feron let out a light laugh - almost as a form of reassurance. He watched her try to conjure up a sentence with mild intrigue. Thinking about it logically, if she was messing with him then she'd try to answer every question and likely get flustered, though the way she just stood and failed to speak suggested she'd gone through some serious trauma. His eyes rested on a burn scar on her arm, and drifted down to tears and scars on her fingers.

It had to be her.

Then, in one giant gust of wind that sent the leaves around them up in the air, cascading around them in a whirlwind of colour, Feron returned to the form he'd been in when [Y/n] had first laid eyes upon him.

Wings spread wide, the dragon craned his neck down, and Ednae pushed [Y/n] up onto it.

Wait... was she about to ride a dragon?

Feron glanced up at her. He could feel how tense she was.

"All will be explained soon, Your Majesty," his low, gruff voice sounded.

And with that, his powerful wings pulsed down to the ground, and the pair were instantly soaring far above the forest, Ednae instantly no longer visible. [Y/n] was forced to cling onto the stranger for dear life as they flew just beneath the clouds. They were so close...

[Y/n] reached a hand into the air, her fingers feeling the icy coolness of the crystallised precipitation. Feron turned his head to watch her for a moment, though quickly turned again to see where he was going. They lowered slightly and now [Y/n] could fully see their surroundings.

Two giant mountains, rather close to one another. It seemed Feron was flying to the peak of the farthest one. They grew closer and closer, and his wings began to fold in slightly as prepared himself to dive for his landing. [Y/n] clung on more firmly as their speed increased. She shut her eyes tight, gritting her teeth, before the sudden feeling of being thrown up in the air hit her. Her eyes shot wide and she noticed that Feron had opened up his wings, beating them gently a couple of times, before softly hitting the ground. [Y/n] glanced around at the surrounding area.

A settlement... up in the middle of a mountain?

Feron shifted back to his human form, causing [Y/n] to fall to the ground with a soft thud. She turned to glare at him, though he hadn't seemed to notice his mistake. He was leaning on the rock they'd landed on nonchalantly, yet again seeming oddly feline in his manner. [Y/n] took in a small breath as she sat up and peered over the edge of the rock to take a better look at the settlement.

Centaurs, faeries, sorcerers, lesser dragons (though far more friendly-looking than the one she'd just encountered), wolves as big as horses, Pegasi... so many creatures that she'd read about in stories, and so many she'd never heard of. A pair of massive wolves ran up the side of the rock, ears perked forwards and tails wagging. One made a beeline for Feron, landing on the man and smothering him with "canine affection". The other curiously padded up to [Y/n]. [Y/n] nervously shuffled a little away from it.

"Cyon," Feron muttered, staring over at the other wolf. It turned to look at him with a grumble, before walking over to him and sitting by his side.

"Why am I here? Why do you keep giving me titles? What's going on?" [Y/n] finally questioned, after much internal debate. Feron turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow, before seeming to remember something. He brushed the dogs off his chest as though they weren't the size of horses, standing up and gesturing for [Y/n] to come closer to him. Hesitantly the girl did so, though she began to regret that when he took her hand and led her towards the edge of the rock.

They looked down on the many different creatures once more. He turned to nod to one of his wolves, who raised its head to the sky and let out a loud howl. The others then joined it, and everyone's gazes flicked to the pair on the rocky overhang.

Feron cleared his throat, looking at [Y/n] and whispering "soon" under his breath, before turning back to the assembling group.

And then, in a calm, yet victorious voice:

"Our Queen has arrived."

* * *

The trio were silent, seated at a giant banquet table that certainly made the whole situation seem even more... isolating. Enough seats for perhaps 50, maybe more, but only three placemats were down and only three seats were filled.

No one had talked about Sally's recent revelation - Tara and Damien had decided to let her open up in her own time, though the girl was too shaken to talk. They unanimously agreed that she mustn't be pressured.

After 5, maybe 10, minutes of silence, Tara let out a small groan.

"This is all my fault. I'm so sorry..." she whispered. She looked down at the table with a sad gaze, before flinching as she felt Damien (who was seated beside her) place his heavy hand on her shoulder.

"There's no fault in wanting to save someone's life, Tara," Damien responded calmly. He turned to look at Sally, seated across the table. She nodded her head in agreement with him.

"And you didn't go out of your way to get to the mountain either... we only went to the neighbouring town. How were you to know that [Y/n] had become a celebrity to an underground vampire kingdom?" she said softly. "I'm the one who should apologise... I knew why you were coming and I still made it easier for you to get so close... I should've been more careful." Tara parted her lips to object, however a door at the end of the room opened and a blonde male walked in with trays of food balanced on both of his arms. They didn't so much as sway as he walked through the room, before serving the trio in silence.

When the food was unveiled from the silver domes that kept it warm, the three couldn't help but gape in awe. This certainly wasn't what they'd imagined a kidnapping to be like, though supposedly it could've been something rather different had they stayed in the place they were before. Maybe this 'king' who claimed to want to save [Y/n] wasn't so bad... unless the food was poisoned, but if that were the case then why hadn't they just poisoned the drinks they'd had earlier? It would've saved a lot of time.

Sally looked up at the blonde, who was about to leave. "Excuse me," she said quietly. He turned to face her. She'd expected him to glare or dismiss her, but instead he simply smiled and tilted his head. "Y-you... did you make this?" Sally questioned. She couldn't help but notice that he smelled strongly of cider, which would make sense as the dish served was made up of a pork, apple and cream based sauce (some celery, thinly chopped onion and rosemary added to the mix) over basmati rice. Sally doubted that this dish had a name or came from an existing recipe - the closest thing she could resemble it to was a stroganoff, though it was also nothing like one.

"I did indeed," he nodded, relaxing a little. It seemed he was as on edge as they were. Tara and Damien's glares couldn't possibly be helping.

"It's ingenious. Did you make the recipe?" Sally questioned. Tara and Damien gave her a weird look, clearly confused as to why she was making light conversation with the enemy. The blonde man rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah... yes, I did, thank you very much." He looked thoughtful for a second, his eyes downcast, before he raised his gaze once more. "I'm probably not allowed to ask this, but do you three have anything to do with the human girl who just left?" The three exchanged a glance, Tara and Damien not seeming to welcome to conversation with this man. Sally, however, remained confident.

"If you're talking about [Y/n] then yes, we're her friends." The man sighed.

"I sympathise with you," he said calmly, "she was a kind girl. But if you are given the chance to leave, take it. Do not stay for her," he warned.

"We'll do whatever the hell we want," Tara snapped, standing up from her seat to be at a similar level to the chef. Sally passively ignored her friend, continuing to look at the man.

"What is your name, sir?" she questioned.

"Calen," he responded simply. She nodded her head.

"Then thank you Calen. For the food and for your advice, but I am afraid - if such a situation were to present itself to us - we would act to save our friend. We haven't come this far just to be told that it's hopeless when we know that she is alive."

The other door on the opposite side of the room from the kitchen creaked open. The brunette male from before stood there, his violet eyes searing holes into the nervous chef. Calen bowed to his new king.

"Calen, I'm sure our guests would like to eat now," Nyais said dully, not taking a step forward.

This place had been so calm before. Under Olli's rule, there were no secrets in his house. If you told someone you wanted him dead, he'd respect your opinion and wish you well on your training. Even for a servant, the palace was a calm place to work. There were no spies. No watchmen. Yet within a day of Nyais taking over, everything felt off. Calen had felt eyes on him as he cooked, and that was reinforced by Nyais' timely appearance in the doorway. Maybe Calen saw Olli's rule through rose tinted glasses... he knew things hadn't always been peaceful, but...

As he dipped his head to Nyais and turned to take his leave, bidding the three 'guests' a good meal, he couldn't help but feel a dreadful anxiety gnaw away at his mind.

It almost felt as though... they were on the brink of war.

hi guuuyyyyssss, really sorry for the terrible quality of this chapter 😢 I'm very unwell (have been since last Thursday) and my head is still spinning. Gonna have to force myself to get some work done soon so I can catch up on 6 days of missed schoolwork... yikes. hope you're all having a lovely day/night/evening/morning/whatever, and hopefully I won't slack behind next week 😂 on another note: here is a drawing of Feron, aka dragon man mcgee



and here is a drawing of Olli,, 👀 rip hehe