“Are you sure this is the right way?” Kyros asked, for what was maybe the eleventh or twelfth time; I sighed deeply.

“For the last time, no, I’m not sure this is the right way,” I replied. “I think so, though. And, I might add, you agreed with me when we first wondered which way we should go to find Ness.”

“That was several fourteenths of a day ago, though,” the humanoid dragon said, and he tugged at the makeshift kilt I’d had him put on, which was made from my cloak. “And this thing bothers me. It makes it difficult to walk.” Then, in a voice which distinctly sounded a bit whiny, he added: “And I’m getting tired.”

I laughed. “You’re getting tired?” I said, incredulously. “We’ve been walking for barely a few hours, I expected a dragon to have a bit more stamina than that.”

Kyros harrumphed haughtily. “We do, but we don’t use that stamina for walking. Flying is much better, just coasting on updraughts, floating without having to as much as flap your wings…”

“Shame that you’re grounded for the time being.”

We’d compared notes and swapped opinions on our respective injuries before setting off from our makeshift campsite: I’d had him undo my bandage and examine my head wound for any sign of infection, while he briefly turned back into his dragon form and had me inspect his wing, which was definitely broken. It would take two weeks or so to heal, Kyros said, which surprised me – usually this kind of injury takes much longer than that to heal, but he’d explained that dragons are remarkably fast healers. Magic, he explained.

Kyros didn’t seem to mind my words, though. “Yeah, it’s a shame, really. Otherwise, I could’ve flown both of us out of this mess you’ve put us in.”

I stopped walking and turned to him. “Excuse me? This mess I put us in? I seem to remember Ness bolting because you belched fire in our general direction, scaring the seven hells out of her.”

“But that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t shot at me with a crossbow,” he replied. “What did you do that for, anyway?”

I hesitated. “I…” I began, then paused. I thought about how to put it. “You see, these lands,” I said, gesturing around at the forest, “belong to the Eternal Emperor.”

Kyros tilted his head to the side. “The land belongs to someone? How can someone even own land?”

“It’s been his – his family’s,” I quickly corrected myself, “for many centuries now. His ancestor conquered it from those who owned it before.”

“Hm,” the humanoid dragon said, and then snorted through his nose. “Sounds suspicious. But go on.”

I nodded. “So you see, when a dragon shows up,” I said, pointing at him, “it’s the duty of the Emperor to protect his people. And he passed that duty onto me. I was ordered to find you and kill you.”

His eyes narrowed. “But you haven’t killed me,” he said. “You’ve had multiple chances.”

“That’s because you’ve saved my life,” I explained. “And that is a debt which must be repaid. Honour demands it. And until I’ve done so, I will not try to kill you.” I straightened myself up, and put my right hand over my heart. “You have my word on that.”

Kyros nodded. “I believe you,” he said.

I nodded back, and resumed walking through the woods.

“Why would the Emperor need to protect his people from me, though?” he asked. “I’ve done nothing to them.”

“But you’re a dragon,” I said.

“So?” he replied; I didn’t turn around, but from his tone of voice I could tell he was honestly puzzled.

“Dragons hurt people. They steal their cattle, and stuff like that.”

“No we don’t. I’ve never stolen a cattle in my life.” He paused. “What is a cattle anyway?”

I chuckled. “It’s… sheep, or cows, or stuff like that.”

“Oh, like deer and moose?”

I shook my head, and pushed aside a tree branch. “No, deer and moose are wild. Sheep and cows are raised by humans.”

“Then I stand by my point: I’ve never stolen a cattle in my life,” Kyros said.

I hm-ed. “But can you say the same about all dragons?”

There was a brief pause. “No, I can’t.”

“Well then.”

Another pause.

“So you tried to kill me because of something other dragons have done? Seems a bit unfair to me.”

I shrugged. “I guess. But orders are orders.”

I heard Kyros grumble a bit, but I paid him no mind; I pushed aside another branch, and inhaled sharply.

“What is it?” Kyros asked.

“We’re here,” I said, and pointed.

A dozen metres away from us, I could see a black shape, a colour completely out of place with the rest of the woods, which were mostly green and brown. I knew what it was: Ness’ body.

I sighed deeply, made my way across the small distance which separated us, and crouched next to her. Looking around, I saw that there were no tracks leading to or from her body, no signs of it having been dragged – or Ness dragging herself – any distance from where she’d landed: she’d probably died instantly in the fall.

Small blessings. At least she hadn’t suffered.

I reached out and put a hand on her neck, caressed her mane: she was cold.

“Thank you, old girl,” I whispered. “Travel well. I’ll see you in the next life.”

I felt tears make their way to my eyes, but I squeezed them shut and shook my head. No, this was not the time to cry. I had work to do.

I looked around, and found a spot that seemed suitable; I set down my pack, pulled out a small spade from the baggage which was still tied to Ness, and started digging.

“What are you doing?” Kyros asked.

“Digging a grave.”

“What’s a grave?”

I looked up from my work at him for a moment, and looked at him incredulously, then I shook my head again. “It’s a tradition we humans have,” I replied. “When someone dies, we dig a hole and put them in the ground. As a way to pay our respects. As a way to remember them.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like a lot of work. You’re expending lots of energy and time for… what, exactly? After all, the body will end up rotting away all the same.”

“Well, what should I do then?” I snapped. “Should I just leave her here, out in the open, and let the wolves eat her? Ness…” I gulped, and that time I did start crying. “Ness was very dear to me. We’ve been through many things together, and now…” I gulped again. “This is your fault.”

Kyros lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“If you hadn’t scared her, Ness would still be alive.”

Kyros looked at me for a while, then nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I mean… I just wanted you to leave me alone. I wanted to scare you away, and I didn’t think what scaring you away would lead to.” He paused. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

I looked at him for a moment, then I realised I was being unfair in blaming him. “No, I am sorry. After all, I was the one who started it, wasn’t I? By shooting at you. And you did try to save us.”

Kyros nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save her.”

I shook my head. “You tried. And you saved me, at least.”

We looked at each other for a moment. “Well, I should get back to digging,” I said.

“Let me help you,” Kyros said.

I smiled at him. “Many hands make light work, was it? Well, unfortunately this is something I feel I have to do myself. You know, as a tribute to my friend. I’d let you help, but I don’t have another one of these,” I said, gesturing vaguely with my spade.

“I have something better than that,” he replied.

With a pop of displaced air, his body suddenly grew and twisted itself in a completely different shape, the pin holding his makeshift skirt closed giving way, and within a few seconds, Kyros the dragon was standing on all four legs where Kyros the almost-human had stood on two. It was incredible: I’d seen him do it once before (and the reverse as well), but it was like he’d just unfolded from his human form. I’d already known magic was real, because of the Eternal Emperor using it to prolong his life, but witnessing it so close was amazing.

“These, I think,” he said, lifting a huge, four-clawed front paw, “can move earth much more quickly than you can with your tool.”

I looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”

-----

It still took us the best part of the day. By the time we rolled Ness into the grave and pushed the earth we’d dug out on top of her, the sun was already setting; I built a low cairn with some stones I’d gathered, and then we stopped for a moment in front of it.

I cleared my throat. “Ness, you’ve been a faithful companion for many years, and I owe you a great debt of gratitude. I’m sorry it had to end this way; I promise I will not forget you.” I knelt down, reached out, and placed a hand on the stones. “Travel well, my friend.”

I straightened back up. There a was moment of silence; then, with a rumble in his throat, Kyros asked, “Should I say something, too?”

I smiled. “No, it’s not necessary. But thank you. And thank you for helping me with…” I gestured at the grave.

The dragon inclined his head. “It was no trouble. I could tell it was something that mattered to you.” He looked up at the sky, narrowing his eyes to shield them from the last rays of the evening sun. “We should make camp, and then start off at first light tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” I nodded. “I’ll get my bedroll, and sort what’s in the baggage while I’m at it; can you gather some wood and get a fire started?”

Kyros nodded his huge head, and with another popping sound he folded himself back into human shape. “Hands are more useful than claws for this.”

I carefully avoided looking at him below the belt as he bent over and picked up his skirt, and made a mental note to find some clothes in the baggage which would fit his human form – it wouldn’t be difficult, he was about my size. And, speaking of which, there was something I’d been wondering about.

“Can you take on more shapes than just dragon and… human? Human-ish?” I asked.

Kyros smiled. “Human-ish. When I’m like this I’m not quite human, but I’m quite close.”

I nodded. “But could you, for example, become a… I don’t know, a horse?”

“I could, but it would be difficult,” he replied. “I would have to think about the shape I wish to change into more carefully.”

I frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Us dragons learn to shapechange from the time we hatch,” he explained. “We practise taking on one form, one specific form, which in time becomes us.” He paused. “Some dragons change into birds, some into animals. Some even into fish. My parents taught me to change into this,” he gestured down at himself, “so I could blend in with humans if need be. Not that I’ve ever needed to.”

I smiled. “With how clueless you are about humans and their customs, you’d get found out before long.”

“Well, why don’t you teach me, then?” he answered, smiling cheekily. “But, you see, this is how it is. When I’m big, I’m me; when I’m small, I’m also me. Changing between the two is as simple as breathing. To change into something else, I would have to think about it.”

“Huh,” I mused. “I understand. And how about changing into another dragon? Or another human?”

“Another human?”

“Yes, you know. Could you, I don’t know, become a female human? Become a woman?”

Kyros nodded. “I could, yes. It would be easier than becoming an animal, but harder than becoming me. But I could do it. But why would I?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe out of curiosity? To see what it’s like?”

“I don’t see the point. I’m a male. A man. Why would I want to become a woman?”

For whatever reason, his answer gave me pause. “I don’t know,” I repeated. Why had I asked that question anyway? Why had ‘becoming a woman’ been the thing that came to mind?

I shook my head to clear it, and started working on sorting through the baggage without another word; after a moment, Kyros wandered off into the forest, and returned some time later carrying a big armful of wood, which he set down in a space he cleared out on the forest floor.

“Stand back, please,” he said. “I don’t do this often, and I don’t want to risk hurting you.”

“You don’t do what often?” I asked, puzzled, but I still took a step back.

Kyros looked at me with a smile, then took a deep breath; his throat expanded to twice its normal size, and a criss-cross pattern of glowing orange light appeared on it. After a moment, he leaned forward, and breathed a stream of flame at the wood, which caught on fire.

“There,” he nodded with satisfaction.

My eyebrows rose towards the sky. “You can breathe fire when you’re human?!” I exclaimed.

His smile turned into a smirk. “Human-ish, remember? I’m almost human, but not exactly. After all, I chose which human-like shape is me, so why wouldn’t I choose one which can breathe fire?”

Still staring at him, I nodded. “Yeah, that does make sense.” Then, after a moment, I added, “I’ve looked through my things, I’m going to leave most of it behind. Less weight to carry, you see.” Kyros nodded in acknowledgement, and I continued, “I’m going to bring all the food I have, though, since we don’t know if we’ll be able to find more any time soon. And a few other things. Speaking of which.”

I handed him a shirt and a pair of pants.

“Please put these on,” I said.

“Okay,” Kyros said. He quickly dropped his makeshift skirt to the forest floor – I turned around as soon as he did so, but not before getting a glance at it, which made me blush – and wore the clothes I’d given him. “Is this okay?” he asked. I turned around, gave him a once-over, and nodded approvingly: Kyros was already very good looking when he was human – no, human-ish, I reminded myself – and the clothes somehow fit him perfectly, making him look even more handsome.

We sat down beside the fire and had dinner, before lying down to sleep. At that point, I hesitated.

“We should take turns staying awake,” I said. “In case any wild animals wander into camp.”

Kyros shook his head. “That won’t be a problem. I’m here, after all, so…” He paused. “Hold on, give me a moment.”

He stood up, and removed his shirt and pants, muttering “Don’t want to rip these,” as he did so, while I averted my eyes. “As I was saying, I’m here, so…”

With a popping sound, he unfolded to his full-size dragon form.

“I’m just going to sleep like this,” he explained. “No one will dare come close, be it human or beast.” His lips drew back into a smile, which while fearsome – his mouth was full of very pointy and very sharp teeth – was also somehow comforting. “You can count on me to keep you safe, Adrian.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Kyros.”

We looked at each other for a moment, then I wordlessly tucked myself into my bedroll and turned over, while he curled up next to the fire.

The exertion of the day quickly caught up with me and, lulled by Kyros’ steady, regular breathing, I fell asleep.