“Henri?”

  Thomas felt it. He felt the burst of magick from within the shed where Henrietta was recuperating.

  It was warm like a fire. A magick with its own identity, one Shana called the fire of the dragon goddess. He did not believe it to be true until he felt it for himself.

  And he was standing outside the shed, far from how a hypothetical fire could be felt. Perhaps this was an indication that she possessed something greater than anyone thought.

  His call did not escape Bartlett, who was preparing to leave the town with Eliani, to honor the message he gave Grant. Untrained as a mage, Bartlett clearly couldn't sense the warmth from the magick.

  “I’m sure she’s going to be alright, Tom,” said Bartlett, reassuring him. “The healers said that she’s going to recover soon.”

  In his head, Bartlett reflected on how it was initially a lie he kept telling Thomas to prevent further distress. Just a week ago, when Thomas was sleeping partly due to exhaustion and partly due to Bartlett drugging him, the dragon healer assigned to her told Bartlett and Rodvar that Henrietta’s condition was deteriorating despite the poison being out of her body. The healer couldn't tell whether it was due to permanent damage or some other factors, but one thing was clear. Her coma was only the start of an inevitable demise. Bartlett did not wish to distress Thomas, so he drugged him to sleep and resolved in finding a solution, either by himself or with his old friends. Thomas never knew a healer was visiting. Bartlett made sure to keep him out of it.

  But three days ago, when the healer came for a routine check, she was surprised and immediately went to find Bartlett, who was with Rodvar and Eliani in the dwarf’s workshop. She told them that Henrietta’s condition changed. Bartlett immediately assumed the worst and was going to tell Thomas, who was cleaning up the bay, when the healer told him a better news.

  “She’s going to live,” said the healer. “I-I don’t know how. The deterioration of her body was somehow reversed!”

  The first thing Bartlett assumed was that Shana used Faerie magick, an unpredictable magick that could leave something worse than it was. The sionnach warned them several times of how her magick played a cruel trick based on luck. Nobody could know the result. He thought she risked it and won. Shana, on her part, denied ever using her magick on Henrietta when asked.

  Whatever the case, everyone sighed in relief. Henrietta survived and would be properly reunited with her brother soon, provided she wakes up. Now, they could focus on dealing with their unknown enemy and find a way to deal with the Wyrithians, hopefully with the help of the surviving prince and princess of the Wyrithian royal family.

  Back to the present, Thomas took a day off on the insistence of the cleanup crew after noticing that he worked too hard to the point of exhaustion, risking his life to the miasma. He went back to the shed just in time to find Bartlett and Eliani preparing themselves for a trip to Camarth near the shed where Henrietta was, one that did not involve Rodvar.

  “I can’t leave me forge when there’s a lot of things to do, lad,” reasoned the dwarf. “And there must be someone who can help the constables and the soldiers against surprises. They need all the morale they can get against the unknown. Not everyone has seen everything like us.”

  “I sure hope I can be of use,” said a rather dejected Thomas.

  Eliani, in a gesture to raise his spirit, approached him and pressed her snout to his cheek, a kissing gesture from the cheetah lady. The softness of her fur and her purr was enough to calm Thomas.

  “Your efforts in cleaning the bay does not come unnoticed,” said Eliani. “Not everyone has to be in a fight to prove themselves. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. It’s only right for you to find it.”

  “I…I’ll keep that in mind,” said a flustered Thomas. “Thank you, Eliani.”

  The Kal’Adre purred in response before she turned to Rodvar.

  “Keep him safe,” she said, her eyes staring into the dwarf’s eyes.

  “I won’t disappoint you, Elle,” said a determined Rodvar. “I swear upon me beard.”

  Eliani let out a growl. She knew the significance of what he meant. Bartlett also understood why she said that. In many ways, Thomas reminded her of her brother. The one she lost in the Rogarian War.

  The one that drove him away from her.

  “Come, Bartlett,” said Eliani. “Let’s not waste time.”

  “Yes,” said Bartlett.

  They said their goodbyes to the rest of the group, promising to return with results that they could use against their unknown enemies. Thomas, Rodvar, and Shana accompanied them to the town gates where they stopped by the gate, watching Bartlett and Eliani walked side-by-side in silence. This made Rodvar sigh.

  “I hope they'll be alright,” said Rodvar. “It has been a long decade for the two of them. It pains me to see them lose that romantic feeling they had. This could be a chance for them to mend things.”

  “They are lovers?” asked a surprised Thomas.

  “Were,” corrected Rodvar, before he shook his head. “The circumstances of their split meant that they hadn’t had the chance to tell each other the reason why. Bart left without telling us where he went. He left us all behind, blaming himself for the tragedy that befell us. I met him several years later here, in Aldimar. He regretted his decision to leave us without giving us a reason. But what he regretted the most was leaving Eliani."

  "Is there a reason why?"

  "One of our party members lost his life to the Rogarian War. He was Eliani's brother."

  That fact alone made Thomas sympathize with Rodvar.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Thanks, lad," said Rodvar.

  “Is that part of the reason why you don’t go with them?” asked Thomas. “To give them some time alone?”

  Rodvar chuckled heartily. “Yer sharp, lad. No wonder you’re able to use Clydethian magick.” He then grunted. “Well, then. Enjoy yer day off with the fox. You’re welcome to help with the workshop, but I prefer you enjoy the day.”

  Rodvar began walking back to his workshop, leaving Thomas and Shana alone. He was unsure of what he wanted to do for the day, considering how the beach was not the best place to relax.

  In the end, he did something simple.

  “Let’s have a walk, Shana,” he said. “Perhaps that can clear my mind of worry.”

  Aldimar would make a good vacation town if it wasn’t for the blackened sea and the gloomy weather caused by the magick still in the bay. The gloominess slowly turned the town into a ghost town. Every day, Thomas saw families moving out of the quaint town. They had many reasons, some were obvious.

  If it wasn’t the contaminated bay, it was the fear of Sybarians.

  The thoughts of Sybarians and his old friend being revealed as one was difficult to accept. It had been weeks since the attack, and all Thomas did was clean the bay and checking on Henrietta. He kept thinking about their motives, about the reason why they kept hunting the last members of House Vesparte.

  What did they do wrong? Was it simply because they were the symbol of power for Wyrith? Or was it for something else?

  Thomas stopped in his walk, unable to enjoy such a pastime when everything was still in his mind (and also because of the cold air). He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

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  His walking companion, Shana, who stayed in her smaller fox form so she wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself, noticed him stopping. It didn’t take much to tell her that he was too overwhelmed by his thoughts to even enjoy what he was doing.

  “Walking was your idea to pass some time,” said Shana. “Got something on your mind?”

  “Lots, Shana. Lots,” said Thomas, shaking his head. “I just can’t stop thinking about the reason why we’re being hunted. I got two years of respite, but…what if that’s a long play? What if he….”

  Shana quickly surmised that he was referring to the Dromedian being held in the constabulary. She never told Thomas about the conversation she had with him.

  “He was going to kill you back at the bay, but chose not to,” said Shana. “He risked his life to get you to safety.”

  “Why bother?” Thomas then realized what she was saying. “Hold on. You talked to him?”

  “Guilty as charged,” she said. “He could be lying when he told me his story, but you ask the right questions, and he’s as readable as a picture book. Do you know his feathers flared up and his eyes narrowed when his emotions are heightened? Pretty cute, if you ask me.”

  “Cute? How can you call those lizards cute?”

  “I have different standards. You should see him in person, if you don't believe me. What's he to you?”

  “At this point? Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that answer. If you did not think much about him, then why did you believe him when he said that pink dragon in the shed is your sister? Why did you stand side by side with him protecting her, or even stop Bartlett from killing him? Part of you managed to look past his appearance and accept that he is still your friend, not a monster out to get you. So, why not now?”

  Thomas couldn’t give her an answer. She was right. The Dromedian who called himself Rory did protect him and even told him the truth. He surrendered, despite the risk involved. He did not even call anyone to save him.

  Shana noticed this, and knew she was right. Only one thing could be done now.

  “You need to talk to him,” she suggested. “It’s only right.”

  This suggestion seemed simple enough, but for Thomas, it was difficult, evident by the look he gave the sionnach when she suggested it. The fear of lizard people, even one who was covered in feathers, would not go away that easily.

  “But—” he started, before being cut off by Shana.

  “Has he ever given you any notion that he’s doing this out of selfish reasons?” said Shana. “He may have been influenced by his conscience, and I doubt that he’s as innocent back then. But the fact that you’re standing here, talking to me, is all thanks to him. Regardless of how he looks, he is still your friend, Thomas.”

  “But….” Thomas sighed. “It’s not as easy as you think it is, Shana. I have never stopped thinking about him since he revealed himself to be a Sybarian.”

  “Dromedian,” corrected Shana. “And don’t tell me they’re the same. Sybarians don’t look like a cockatrice.”

  “He doesn’t look like a cockatrice,” retorted Thomas. “Have you ever seen one before?”

  “What other being with avian and reptilian features you can think of, then? Besides, given that you’ve seen one, he doesn’t as monstrous, does he?”

  Thomas didn’t have an answer to that.

  “Okay. I got it. He does not belong to the same race that killed my family. But I still can’t forgive him for lying to me.”

  “A white lie to stop you from dwelling in the past.” Shana sighed. “Look, young man. Be as stubborn as you want but let me tell you this. If you let him go just because he lied to you, I will guarantee that you will regret it your whole life. You’ve got someone who had your back for two whole years, and all that goodwill was gone the moment he’s revealed to be a liar and a feathered lizard person, just because he was protecting you. I don't know how you were raised in Wyrith, but out here, you don't dismiss someone just because they look different, or lying to you for good reasons. This world isn't as black and white as you are led to believe, boy.”

  Again, Shana gave a good reason, one that left Thomas unable to say anything to rebut her claims. She was right, and she wasn’t even there when Rory saved Thomas from the deep pit of depression. Rory…or perhaps it would be right to call him Sanatasi, was the only true friend he had.

  He remembered one day when Thomas was overwhelmed by the stark contrast of the comfort of castle and the life of a commoner. Rather than having servants helping him getting dressed, he had to do it himself. Rather than having food delivered to him, he had to find it, and that meant interacting with people who he initially thought were dirty and possibly diseased.

  Then there was the obvious trauma that he was still suffering. He lost his family in one night, and he witnessed his sister’s mutilated form sacrificing herself to save him. It was the last time he had seen her as a human being. The pressure and the unfamiliarity culminated in severe depression that caused him to become reluctant to come out of his room.

  Worse, he contemplated suicide.

  Thomas remembered the day when he took a knife, intending to plunge it into his throat. Rory snatched the knife and slapped Thomas in the face, shocking him out of his sulking. He shouted at him, calling him stupid. Then the words he said…the words that finally snapped him back to reality.

  “You are not alone in this world, Thomas!” he said. “Stop and think about where you are, and what you have been having lately! Is this the gutter? Are you even barely dressed? Is that fireplace behind you a near-death illusion? Am I just your hallucination, then? How about that slap? Was that just a dream?”

  He was at a loss of words, but accepted that Rory was right. Everything was real. He survived that night in the castle, and it was all thanks to Rory. He could have been drifting around like a half-alive person, waiting for sweet death, when a kind, considerate person had been trying to help him let go of it all. He remembered bursting into tears upon thinking about it.

  And just like then, Thomas stopped and thought about Rory, now with the knowledge that he was a Dromedian named Sanatasi, who knew the Sybarians. He was there to kill him, but he refused to and ran with him. He risked his life trying to protect him, even though he did not know Thomas personally. He did all he could change his identity from being prince Thomas of Vesparte into Thomas Alonquin, an orphan he enrolled in the National Academy of Magick in Clydeth with his own money.

  He finally found his answer to Shana.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I never gave him a chance to explain. I dismissed him just because he’s a Dromedian. He taught me to be open-minded, but I realized that I had shut him out just because of what he looked like. I think it's best I talk with him, learn more about himself, his motivations. That way, I might be able to sleep well again."

  “See? It’s not so hard,” said Shana with a smirk.

  “But how are we supposed to go in and talk to him? He’s locked inside a prison cell inside the constabulary and a person of interest. No one’s supposed to meet him.”

  Shana once again gave a mischievous smirk, something Bartlett had warned Thomas before, reminding him that she was a faerie with dubious morale and reservations.

  “I have a perfect idea for that,” she said.

  “This is a bad idea.”

  “Do you prefer having to convince them with your own words?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then shut up and let me cast the spell.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes as Shana murmured the incantation for the spell she suggested, which came out like a glow that covered their bodies momentarily before disappearing. The spell was still there, just invisible. Thomas could sense it.

  “You do realize they’d have deterrents for this, right?” he said. “There must’ve been attempted breakouts using this idea.”

  “That’s if you use a normal spell,” said Shana. “This is a charm, laced with a bit of faerie magick.”

  “Charm?”

  “Let me demonstrate.”

  Shana walked up to a constable. “Hey, you!” she said. “I’m talking to you!”

  Given Shana’s proximity to the constable and the open space, he should’ve seen a vulpine beast person calling him right in front of him. Instead, he looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice as if he was blind or visually impaired.

  Then to Thomas’s astonishment were the constable’s words.

  “It’s not funny, Cassie!” he said, exasperated, before leaving his post. “Get back to your mother! Damn it. I thought she’d left already, that kid….”

  Shana beckoned Thomas to follow her into the constabulary. Several constables walked past them without batting an eye, nor did an alarm go off. They seemed invisible, as no one seemed to be looking at them.

  Then Thomas bumped into a person. His heart skipped a beat, thinking he had botched it. He stopped, trying to find some reason to say. The officer did not seem to mind, nor did he become suspicious.

  “I thought we’re invisible,” said Thomas, astonished by the officer's reaction. “What charm did you use?”

  “I don’t know the proper name, but I call it the look-away charm,” explained Shana. “Don’t worry about our conversation. Nobody is going to bat an eye. Basically, we’re ‘invisible’, but only because the spell aura prevents anyone from looking at us directly. To them, we're part of the going-ons in a busy constabulary. Just a pair of constables doing their jobs that everyone may or may not know, except no one's coming to greet us or question us."

  “Then that demonstration earlier?”

  “It’s also a charm. Ambient noises. To them, our voices are just a pair of constables talking in the background. Ever heard the noises in a crowded place? I bet you can’t make up the words they are saying unless you’re paying attention. Faerie magick helps prevent that."

  "But I thought you said faerie magick is unpredictable."

  "Nothing's predictable in ambient noises. What? You think it's so chaotic to the point you either go deaf or you end up having eyes for ears and vice versa? That's a different brand of chaos, and it's not mine."

  “Then why...."

  "I like to keep people guessing. Terrify them, so that I keep the advantage. If it's so unpredictable, then how do you think I managed to stay hidden all these years?"

  Thomas nodded in understanding.

  “I can maintain this subterfuge until I’m out of magick, so don’t waste time.”

  They both walked to the jail area, where a lone warden stayed on watch behind a wooden desk. She immediately charmed him to do her bidding, which was to close the door leading to the prison and opened the door to the cell.

  Thomas waited for him to finish, feeling anxious. He did not expect himself to be seeing Rory, or Sanatasi, again, after the circumstances of his capture. He wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. He wasn’t sure if he could control his emotions.

  The click and the creak of the door broke Thomas’s pondering, and he yelped in surprise. Before he could do anything else, Shana pushed him in, followed by her, before closing the door behind them.

  Before Thomas could protest this unwarranted action, a familiar voice stopped him.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be the good guy? What are you doing here, kid?”

  It was said not with a serious tone, rather one of teasing and sarcasm evident in the voice. Thomas gulped and turned around to find the person he never thought to be talking again.

  “Hello, Thomas,” said Sanatasi, grinning. “It’s good to see you again.”