Tarragon (v1)

Chapter Sixteen: Thorn's Empire

-Net

We waited outside of the camp, hoping for the best, but staying ready for the worst. I knew eventually the door would open as someone would go through. We were hidden to the best of our abilities, by the invisibility cloak and berry serum.

I twiddled my claws until the door opened up. A few dragons walked out, conveniently leaving enough room for Amnoia and I to walk through the vine gate. We dashed through, entering the main camp. It was pretty quiet, except for the sounds of a few conversations, and the grunting of combat training.

It felt like home, and hell at the same time. I didn't consider this place my home anymore, though. It was a compound created with the express purpose of being a hub for the most vile trade of permanently crippling, addictive substances which could permanently hurt you; the hiring and training of assassins; and the harming of innocent hatchlings who cannot defend themselves.

This place was not my home.

Amnoia and I ran along the right side of the path, avoiding the dragons walking along it, minding their own business. Nobody had been tipped off to our existence yet.

"What do we do now?" Amnoia whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Wait five minutes for the Daily Meeting. The bell will ring, and everyone- including Thorn- will walk to the center of the compound, and be distracted for thirty minutes." I explained, "then we can get in Thorn's tent, steal the Aerim, and get out."

"Alright." Amnoia confirmed. We sat down for another few minutes. As expected, the bell rang, and the Daily Meeting began. Thorn walked out of her tent, and gathered everyone in the center of the compound.

We scuttled alongside the edges once the meeting had begun, and crawled into Thorn's tent. She had her back to us, so hopefully nobody noticed. All eyes were on her, too, so we were hopefully fine. We removed the cloak, and I whispered to Amnoia, "find the Aerim."

The tent was about thirty feet tall, wide, and long. It was more than enough to fit Thorn. I began looking through her scrolls, and papers.

I wanted to search for the Aerim, but these distracted me. It was a drawer, labeled, "MESSAGE ARCHIVE"

It intrigued me, so I slid it open. I scrolled back to 12 years ago, when I was 4. I picked one randomly.

Dear Thornemhelka,

The results of the Energy test on your child Neteramanthia are concerning to say the least. They suggest that your child may already have surpassed you significantly in Energy potency, purity, and production. If you can harness their abilities they may be a vital tool in your empire, but if they are to turn on you, the consequences could be disastrous. I suggest finding a way to stop their magic, until they are older, and you have broken their will.

With concern,

Snowstorm.

Thornemhelka? Had she... she had. She had shortened her name to Thorn, like I had shortened mine to Net. And yet, she couldn't be bothered to refer to me by the name Net instead.

I picked another letter from the bin, just after the one I was holding.

Dear Snowstorm,

I have taken into account the benefits and hazards of having such a magically potent dragon in my operation, and have come to a single, unavoidable conclusion: They must be crippled. I will do my best to find a non-lethal parasite, and will intentionally break their Energy channels. I will send them to the dragon Speedwell to be fixed once I believe that their spirits have truly been broken.