Path of The Dragon Mage (Nomad): 24. Afterthought (Patreon)

Note: This is one of those weird in between characterization only chapters I gotta stick in between action beats. We're going to get to the fun ratkin-swarm action stuff soon.

Flying had been a delight for Corvus. Even before he had picked out his egg on his tenth birthday, he had dreamed of soaring through the air with his very own dragon companion. He'd only been able to fly with Charm for a short amount of time, but it had exceeded his every hope.

He fully expected Starella to share the same enthusiasm. She had been raised on tales of their ancestors riding powerful beasts. Certainly, she had scrambled up upon Charm’s back fast enough — though, with hurried, uneasy glances thrown back over her shoulder.

Men's voices could be heard on the other end of the garden. The fuss that he and Starella had picked up had not gone unnoticed. That, or the governor's men had somehow caught up with them.

He helped his cousin find her seat behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist tightly as Charm moved to the edge of the building.

"All you can carry both of us, right?" he double checked.

"For a short flight," she replied.

"What?" Starella squeaked. That squeak became a shriek as Charm launched herself on the side of the building, tumbling bits of brickwork with her claws.

Starella hid her head against Corvus's back, squeezing the life out of him.

"It'll be okay!" he called back to her, but he didn't think that she heard him.

Below them, the city glittered in the night air. Charm’s wing beats were labored, and she was clearly getting out of breath as they approached the perimeter wall again. She shifted into a shallow glide that took them the rest of the way to the Horse Folk camp.

Starella raised her head and looked around only when Charm landed. "Where are we? I thought I was going back to the governor's provincial palace."

"We’ll return there in the morning," Corvus promised, and slid off, helping Starla down as well. She looked dazed, her gaze slightly unfocused as she took in his healer's tent in front of her. "What is this?"

"Where I sleep," he said. She looked dead on her feet. The explanation for the Horse Folk could wait until morning.

"I'm going to hunt," Charm said to him. "I smell mountain sheep on the air." Then she took off.

"This way."

Corvus guided his cousin, who staggered along like a sleepwalker to the tent. It seemed like the last dragon ride was the final straw that broke her resilience. Seeing her had brought back a whole host of memories. He'd forgotten how sheltered he had been in the palace — the endless days of doing nothing but learning from his tutors, broken up by meals. His life away from the palace was more vibrant and alive by far... but he had been eased into it by way of Solt's little estate. She had been thrust into an odd, deadly situation.

What was she doing out here? Corvus wondered again. And that brought up another question.

He stopped Starella with a hand on her shoulder. "Where's your dragon egg?"

"With the rest of my things, in the governor’s estate," she replied blankly as if he had asked where she kept her wardrobe.

He frowned. "I remember you used to carry your egg around like a doll."

"I was a child," she said, "It's been two years, Cousin. Much has happened since then."

"Corvus? You're back?" The tent’s fabric doorway was pushed back. Gwen poked her head out, going still in surprise when she saw Starella. "Who're you?"

Starella was exhausted and might have been bordering on emotional shock, but still managed to draw herself up in affront. "I beg your pardon?"

"Gwen, this is my cousin, Princess Starella. Starella, this is Gwen, the daughter of the local Horse Men clan."

Gwen's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth. At a quick shake of Corvus's head, she closed it again.

"Well met, Princess." Gwen bobbed her head in what was a polite gesture for her, but not appropriate palace courtesy at all.

Corvus quickly guided Starella into the tent. "I'll explain later," he muttered as he passed her.

"Yes, you will."

Starella gazed around, bemused. From the sectioned off areas to the wooden chests, to… "Is there a horse in this tent?"

NightShade whickered a sleepy greeting.

"You're among the Horse Folk,” Corvus said. “Their customs are strange, but NightShade is quite tame."

Gwen gave him a hard look for his wording, but to his surprise stepped in to take the younger girl in hand. She spoke softly to Starella, guiding her to a cordoned off area where there was a cot meant for patients. Thankfully, it was empty.

Starella was still in a state of bemusement and seemed to think that Gwen was some sort of servant. At least, she allowed herself to be led to the other room. Corvus heard one complaint, "These blankets smell like an animal..."

Gwen returned a few minutes later, took Corvus by the wrist and led him outside.

"You brought a royal?" she hissed. "Here? Have you lost your mind? What happened to warning the Governor of the ratkin?"

"I warned him," Corvus said, "And then he produced my cousin. Things went downhill rather quickly."

"What is she even doing here, outside her fancy palace? She get kicked out too?"

"No," Corvus said, but had to admit, "At least, I don't think so. She's been sparse with the details."

Gwen gave him a hard look. "You're back to talking all fancy like them, again."

"I am?" he asked blankly. "When did I stop?" The idea of speaking with Gwen and Roan's loose country grammar was appalling. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"I thought you had a lie detection skill. How do you not know why she's here?"

"It's easy to lie with the truth," he said. "What I want to know is how you got her to comply so easily. I thought I'd have to trick her into drinking a sleeping vial to get her to sleep in a commoner’s cot."

Gwen's smile grew a wicked edge. "Did I ever tell you I got my Diplomacy to a general skill?"

"What? You?"

She playfully slapped his shoulder. "Better believe it. I got a good subskill out of the deal, too: Rank Jump Diplomacy. Allows me to have more effect on those who see themselves as higher in rank than me."

"And a princess is about as high as it gets," Corvus said. "You haven't used that on me, have you?"

Gwen all but batted her eyes. "Do you see yourself as higher than me?"

He was wise enough not to answer.

Gwen, too, seemed to realize that now was not the time to tease. "What happens now?"

He sighed. "Your father had a meeting with the Governor in the morning. I will accompany him along with Starella if she can be persuaded to behave. Then we all do what we can to help defend the city from Daffodil and his ratkin swarm. And then..." He trailed off and shook his head. "Then I have to deal with what really drove Starella out of the palace."

"Could it be your mother or father?" Gwen had no love for his parents, especially Vesper.

"My mother lost any influence in the palace years ago. My father..." Again, he shook his head. "My aunt, Starella's mother, is more favored than my father. She should be able to stop any of Cipherus's schemes."

"The royals play too many games," Gwen said.

"The Horse Folk have it easy," Corvus agreed. "Kale's a good leader and people trust that Roan will be, after him."

Gwen's expression soured so quickly that Corvus sensed he had made a misstep somewhere. Quickly, he ran his words back in his head and said, "And I'm certain you will make a good leader, too."

"I will," she said, "Once people stop seeing me as an afterthought.”

"Gwen, I didn't mean it that way—"

"I'm tired," she said, "Good night, Corvus."

She turned and walked back into the tent.

Corvus watched her go, knowing he had screwed up but not sure how — or if — he should fix it.

The apex of Gwen's Path would see her as the Windrunner Queen. Ruler over all the many Horse Folk clans. But the clans had been a long shattered people... thanks in large part to Corvus's own ancestors.

His Path to the throne was rife with political complexities. Gwen's on the other hand... he had no idea how she would manage to ascend to a position that no longer existed.

Or how they would manage to rule their own peoples. No King worth his salt would allow a new nation to form up within his own Kingdom.

And Gwen... she would hate being bound to the Palace. He could never ask that of her.

Those were problems for another day. Morning was coming, far too early for his taste.

Reluctantly, Corvus returned to the large tent and sought his own bed.