Fight or Flight

Chapter 3

Simon

Dragon tails are very strong. They also have spikes on them. Do not get hit by one.

I put the feather down and rubbed at my chest yet again. It was still sore even several hours later. It was a good thing the dragon had been careful enough to avoid hitting me with any of the sharp pointy bits along the sides, or else I would probably need to find a healer. Which would have led to a whole new set of problems.

Rubbing at the dull throb in my chest didn't do much for the pain – and my skin was starting to itch the more I messed with it, especially around the shoddy clothes-cleaning spell I was using to cover any traces of my magic – so I gave up trying and went back to writing my letter again.

I don't have much news other than that. I have arrived at Lakeshire Village and met the dragon here, though it seems very uninterested in me. It said very little and flew away rather than talk with me, despite my attempt at flattery, so I will have to rethink my approach. As well as the pick-up lines you gave me.

As you can expect from that, I have not yet been able to verify any of Katerina's information. I tried to offer a cooked meal to the dragon, in the hopes that would cause it to offer me something in return, but the dragon had no interest in the meal at all (even though I am certain it was hungry at the time), and only seemed angry with me for getting involved. It may be that Katerina was telling the truth and the dragon was just avoiding having to pay me back, or it may be that Katerina was lying, and the dragon left for unrelated reasons. And yes, before you suggest it, I made sure to bathe first.

I can at least confirm the rumors that this dragon is living here on its own. A blue dragon did visit briefly early in the morning, but it left without meeting the dragon that lives here, and flew off to the south. The dragon that lives here is a pink dragon, though aside from its color I don't know much about it. I believe it may be a 'she' from the sound of its voice, though since we didn't speak much I am not certain of that. I am including a sketch of its head in case you can remind me which horn arrangement means what for these surly overgrown lizards.

If nothing else, I do not believe the dragon detected my magic. This suggests Katerina may have been truthful about our shields hiding us, and of clumsy spells leaking enough magic to provide us with cover.

For now I have decided to get more information from the villagers here, and will try to meet the dragon again once I have more to work with. I will send another update after that attempt.

I finished the letter and returned the feather to the pot of ink. I had hoped to write my letters in pencil, but Lakeshire Village – the poor farming village closest to the dragon's lair – seemed to be too remote to have any available. And as remote and poor as this village was, I would probably have two or three letters written before anyone arrived to actually carry messages. Still, it was good to keep a record. If something happened later and the dragon used some form of mind-altering magic on me, the other Wellsprings might be able to notice the change in my letters. And if something caused me to not send the letters at all, they would take that as a warning the dragons were not to be trusted.

The ink would need some time to dry, so I pushed it to one side of the table and motioned for another drink from the server. I wasn't worried about her seeing my letter. I had used our codes to hide the message inside the words of a made-up cover story, so unless she was a Wellspring herself, she would just read a rather boring story about the weather on my journey here. And the chances of her being a Wellspring were non-existent – waiting on a customer who turned out to be a mage would practically guarantee exposure for a Wellspring.

I sipped from the drink she brought me, then turned my attention to the other conversations in the tavern. Eavesdropping was a survival trait for Wellsprings. If a mage was planning to visit or already in town, it was good to have all the warning we could get, and I had gotten pretty good at the skill over the years. Most of the chatter was boring – talk about the dismal growth of the crops this year, gossip about the failing health of some person I wasn't familiar with, speculation on what the weather would be like. The villagers seemed to hope it would rain, but expected dry weather.