Susannah sat at the bedside of a sleeping young man with raven black hair and a permanent scowl on his face. She thought he seemed handsome, but also dangerous, imagining a thug, no, a leader of thieves to look much the same, smiling sinisterly on a rickety throne in some sewer of some city as his men reported to him on their daily finds.

That was the sort of atmosphere Fafnir gave to Susan, the young woman who found him earlier in the day. Now it was night, and in the neighboring room, the locals were deciding what to do. Susan was told to not tell another soul about what she had seen, and to look after him for the time being. She didn’t like being talked down to, even if indirectly. Though that’s not to say she was surprised. She wasn’t one of the elders, but still a child in their eyes, not important or reliable enough to way in on such matters.

But that didn’t keep her from being curious. What good will it do, watching someone who’s asleep? she reasoned to herself. And so she crept close to the door and listened in.

“What do we do about him?”

“What can we do?”

“Throw him out or take him in.”

“Well obviously we’ll take care of him. He’s practically still a boy. Imagine how much his mother is worrying.”

“We can’t just house every rogue soldier that shows up on our doorstep. We have to think about the town. We don’t want it getting caught up in the war. Think of what the Duke would do he found out we were offering succor to an enemy.”

“We don’t even know if he’s a soldier. Was he wearing any colors or banners? No, only plain black armor.”

“And that’s another thing - I don’t like that armor. It looks sinister, and so does his face.”

“Listen to yourself! You don’t like his armor and face! What kind of reason is that to leave someone for dead?”

“He’s got a point, that armor and weaponry. It certainly isn’t… standard issue. But custom made. Where did he come from? Who is he? Why is he here? We don’t know anything about him! He could be a murdering madman for all we know.”

“Bah, you men know nothing. He’s a good egg. I can tell.”

He scoffed, "You just think he’s a handsome lad and think he'd be a good fit for your granddaughter.”

“So what if I do?! She’s not getting any younger. And besides, I’ve always been a good judge of character, and I tell you, he’s a good egg.”

“This is going nowhere. We can’t make a decision until he wakes up and explains himself.” The man looked at everyone else, as if asking for an objection. There was none. “Alright then. Let’s adjourn for now and see if he’s awake in the morning.”

As the councilmen spread apart from their huddle and approached the door, Susan leapt up from her hunched position and dashed for the bedside chair, causing loud thuds and a screech as the legs of the chair slid against the wood floor.

Fafnir’s upper body bolted up as the councilmen entered the room. His head darted left and right, taking in his surroundings. Everyone was taken aback by his wild eyes and manner. It felt as if he would jump up and attack any one of them at any moment.

Though, of course, he did not, for once he realized where he was, not from experience, but through logic, he calmed considerably, back straightening, face serious, and completely still. His baring was prideful, they noticed, as if he had just recalled who he was and realized there was a correct way for him to act.

He spoke slow, breathing still not yet fully under his control, “Thank you for aiding me in my time of need. If it were not for your assistance, I know not what would have become of me.” He did a light bow. I have to make them trust me. “What is this place, where am I?” So they’ll give me what I want.

For a moment, all were silent, processing the presence before them. There was something in his eyes and the way he spoke, a great conviction that would not allow anything to get in his way. Though his words were kind, his face and eyes showed none of it. They were unsure if they wanted to answer, if they should.

The old woman was the first to speak, “This is the town called Estwin in the Coren duchy of the Ulfes kingdom. And who, may I ask, are you?”

Fafnir’s eyes narrowed at the question. “What concern of it is yours, who I am?”

One of the men beside the old woman piped up, “Who you are is a big concern! If you’re trouble, we won’t be having any of it!”

Instinctively, Fafnir backed off, sensing he would be defeated if he did not comply, “I am called Siegfried. I fought the black dragon Fafnir. Before I slayed it,” gasps of surprise and widened eyes showed from many in the room, “it cursed me, taking away all of my past except for my name.” Scoffs and remarks of disbelief were thrown around the room. “I care not if you believe me. But know this. I have no quarrel with any of you or your countrymen. I seek only a cure. The dragon, upon its death, mentioned its sister, the blue dragon, Celadon (sell - a - dawn) of the north as being the only one who could undo it. Once you return to me that which is mine, I will be on my way.”

The old woman spoke, “Now there’s no need to be in a rush,” deflating the tension in the room, “how about we get you some more water and something to eat?”

More water? Siegfried looked around and beside the bed, on top of a nightstand, was a wooden cup. The once dragon looked inside it, a glint of recognition in his eyes. He grabbed the cup and slammed back the water in unending gulps, until all that was left inside of it was air. Siegfried breathed heavy as he held the cup outward and said, “Yes, please, more water.”

As per the old woman’s request food and more water was brought to Siegfried. He could smell the stew before it was in the room; he had never smelled something so delectable. His mouth salivated and his stomach pain became more pronounced. When the tray was over his lap, he asked, “What is this?” wonderment in his voice.

A murmur of, “Maybe there is something wrong with ‘is noggin,” was voiced across the room.

“It’s beef stew,“ said the old woman.

“So this is stew,” said Siegfried, in his discovery, not realizing the foolishness of the statement.

Even the old woman was bewildered, only saying an affirmative, “Uh huh.”

Slowly, almost reverently, he picked up the wooden spoon, dipped it into the stew, and brought the mixture into his mouth. Flavors exploded; rich gravy, hearty beef, sharp carrot, and mellow peas. And the saltiness, it was just right.

The once dragon’s eyes widened in shock. He immediately began scarfing it down, bringing the bowl up, tilting his head back, and shoveling the food in as if it was the first meal he ever had in his life.

When it was all gone, he returned the bowl back to the try, and saw the slice of bread beside it. “What's that,” he asked.

“Bread?”

“Yes, of course.” He took it in his hand, brought it close to his face, examining it, then sniffed it; it was divine.

Siegfried bit into it and was met with instant disappointment, the bread was slightly stale, and it didn’t taste near as flavorful as it smelled.

“Dip it into the leftover gravy,” she suggested.

Yet again, Siegfried used logic instead of experience to understand the meaning. He dipped the bread in, examined it once more, and saw that the bread was absorbing it. With relish, he finished his meal and water, exhaling a satisfied, “ah,” at the end.

And then he remembered. “Where’s my armor and spear,” he asked with narrowed eyes.

The old woman was unfazed by the once dragon’s murderous eyes, now accustomed to his child-like intrigue with the world. “They’re in the other room.” She nodded in the direction of the room behind her.

“Can I have them back?” he asked, expectant.

“Do you need them right this second?” she asked, as if the question was silly.

“No,” he said, hesitant, “I suppose I don’t.”

“Then there they shall stay.” Siegfried became wary of this woman. Never in his thousand year existence did he meet someone who so perturbed him. But this woman, this human, she was to be watched.

Yet again, not fussy about his gaze, she said, “Let’s call it a night then. We’ve all got work in the morning.” And like that, everyone filed out of the room. As the old woman closed the door to the room, she said, “sleep well.”

Siegfried was unsure of what to do. He could probably grab his armor and leave this place, either sneaking away in the dead of night or slashing through any who would dare stand in his way. But honestly speaking, he was unequipped to venture off into the human world. His body was too fragile and his knowledge too lacking. As he pondered this, the softness and warmth of the bed lulled him to sleep.

Siegfried awoke to a knock on his door. As Susannah was about to ask if she could come in, the once dragon opened the door. “What is it,” he asked curtly.

“Um,” she had momentarily forgotten what she was told after hearing his oddly dismissive tone. “I am to give you a tour of the town so you can see where you’d like to work.”

“I am to work?”

“Yes.”

“So I may earn my keep?”

“Yes.”

With a nod, he said, “alright.” Siegfried had no qualms with the trade of his labor for a warm bed, good food, and the chance to learn more of human ways. Considering everything he had gone through, it was a good deal.

Susannah walked away, down the hall, assuming he would follow, which he did, for a time. But when she looked back, she saw that he was standing in front of a window, touching it.

She walked up to him, tilted her torso diagonally so she could see his enraptured face, and asked, “What are you doing?”

“What is this?”

“A window?”

“The material.”

“Glass?”

“Yes.”

“Yeaaah?” She was starting to get weirded out.

“It’s amazing.” Siegfried said with reverence.

“Not really, it’s just a window.”

“Humanity is so weak and short-lived, yet they can create such amazing things.”

At that, Susannah burst out laughing, and in between giggles said, “You act like such a kid!”

The once dragon thought of his age and said, “I assure you, I am not.”

Another burst of laughter, “and you talk like you’re so old!” After a few more giggles, “when you look as old as me!”

“What’s so funny?” Siegfried was annoyed.

“You are! You’re so serious and silly - it’s ridiculous!”

He simply stood there, frowning ever so slightly, accompanied by his permanently scowling eyes, it made quite the impression.

Catching herself, she said, “Alright, I’m sorry for laughing at you. Please follow me, and tell me when something catches your fancy instead of stopping in the middle of nowhere.” And like that, Susannah turned and walked away. Siegfried followed.