Ryns.
The soldier caste of dragonlings, a particularly vicious species of shapeshifters.
Dragonlings are dangerous.
Ryns are deadly.
Born and raised to be a bloodthirsty soldier, Anita's life has never been her own. She always knew her fa...
Of the Laws, the most important govern the kings and queens of the colonies. When our leaders turn their backs on our Law, we become nothing more than savages under the rule of tyrants.
~ From the Dragonling Grimoire
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"Come on." Liza was tugging me through the marketplace crowds, eyes scanning the multitude of market stalls. "She's having tea with some friends or something. I think the teahouse is... over there." She pulled on my hand down a fork in the path. After a minute of squeezing through dragonlings, crowd thinned considerably and the booths became less flamboyant; fewer food vendors or flashy clothes sellers and more artistic wares. There were also several dozen tents, probably dining areas.
"What's a teahouse?" I asked, pausing to watch a young Mora paint a vase filled with delicate flowers. His brushstrokes were steady and precise, and the painting came to life under his careful hands.
Liza stopped beside me. "It's a... you know. It's a tea... house?"
"You have no idea what it is either, do you?"
"Not a clue."
I suppressed my laughter as I walked over to the painting Mora. "Excuse me, sir, do you know where the teahouse is?"
The Mora glanced up at me in mild surprise. He was an elfish-looking fyn, no older than me, with paint smudging his freckled cheeks. "I- I do. It's over there." He pointed to a large black tent a few rows down. As I turned away, he suddenly grabbed my sleeve. "Wait- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to grab you, I was just wondering... ah, you're the Ryn with the phoenix, right?"
I stared at the Mora for a few heartbeats before his question registered. "Yes. Her name is Mishal."
Putting down his paintbrush, the Mora nervously began to fidget with his fingers. "Would it be, ah, too much to ask if I could paint her? I mean, we don't really have, you know, a lot of animals here. It's all snow and ice and I- I'm rambling, sorry." He coughed, glancing to the side anxiously." What I mean is- well, I would like to paint your phoenix."
I was at a loss of words, still trying to process what the Mora was saying. Thankfully, Liza stepped in. "Of course Ani will let you! You helped us, didn't you?" She elbowed me in the side and I hastily nodded.
"Yeah, of course. Mishal would love the attention. I can have someone bring her here to you later."
I thought the Mora might burst into tears as he clapped his hands together. "Thank you so much, ma'am!"
Liza pulled me towards the towering black silk of the teahouse, waving goodbye to the young painter. Once we were out of earshot, she cracked up laughing. "Ani, you're so funny."
"I- what?" I frowned, still trying to process what the hell just happened. "How was that funny?"
"You don't hesitate when trying to attack someone, but you freeze up when someone asks you a question."
