“Are we there yet?” Kyros asked, and I smirked.

“No, we’re not,” I replied. “And stop trying to annoy me, it’s not going to work again.”

He gave me a cheeky grin in return. “Ah well. It was fun while it lasted.”

“Fun for you, maybe. You can be absolutely infuriating when you try.” I reached over, and punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Seriously. You’re supposed to be older than my squire, and yet he’s much more serious than you.”

“What’s the problem with lightening the mood?” Kyros asked, shrugging. “Walking through the woods is boring, might as well enjoy what we can meanwhile.”

I smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.”

And, to be honest, I quite liked having him by my side while trudging through a seemingly-endless mass of greens and browns, with some grey rocks in-between. It was surprisingly enjoyable: during my career as a knight I’d been on solitary expeditions; I’d been sent on missions with other knights; and I had, most recently, adventured with Edmund.

And I didn’t like any of those situations. Being alone was extremely boring, with just a few glimmers of excitement when I found myself having to fight someone; being with other knights meant I had to keep appearances up, and try to bond with my fellow men, which I always found awkward; and, when I’d been with my squire, I’d been so caught up in trying to teach him that I found it difficult to switch off from ‘shining example’ and just relax.

Being with someone with whom I could just banter, just… be myself was a novel experience, something which hadn’t happened to me probably ever since I started squiring for the Boar Knight along with Robert.

Secretly, I was dreading the moment when we would reach the village that was our destination, and Kyros and I would have to part ways… or, worse, I would have to fight him to the death.

I looked at the dragon, and realised he was frowning. “Is everything okay, Adrian?” he asked. “You’re very quiet all of a sudden.”

I shook my head.

Let’s not burn bridges before we get to them, Adrian, I thought.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I replied. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

I turned away from him, and waved my hand vaguely. “Just… many things. You know how it is, sometimes you get caught in your thoughts and you just… go away for a while.”

Kyros didn’t answer right away, and when I turned back to him, I saw his frown had deepened. “…No?” he murmured. “That’s never happened to me. Isn’t it dangerous? What if it happens in the middle of a fight?”

I shrugged. “In that case, muscle memory just takes over. I’ve trained so long and hard, my body can just fight without me being present.”

“That still sounds…” he began, then he paused, and shook his head. “Never mind.”

I smiled at him. “What, are you worried?”

“A bit, yes,” he admitted. “I would hate it if something happened to you.”

I felt my eyebrows rise towards the sky. He would hate it if something happened to me?

But why? After all, we barely knew each other. We weren’t friends.

Were we?

Deciding against probing further, I turned away from him. “Let’s get going again, we’ve taken a long enough break.”

Without waiting for Kyros’ reply, I took a few steps towards the direction our destination was supposed to be… and stopped.

Something was weird.

Behind me, Kyros began to say, “Well? Aren’t we–” but he stopped when I raised my hand.

Something was weird.

We’d been walking through the same pristine, untouched forest for several days, and I’d managed to get a sort of sense for what the forest looked like, for what it sounded like. For what it felt like.

And now the forest felt different, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what felt different just yet.

“What’s happening?” Kyros whispered.

“…I don’t know yet,” I whispered back. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is wrong?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know yet,” I repeated, still under my breath. “But there’s something out of place here.”

I kept looking this way and that, but I couldn’t see or hear anything which was evidently out of place; eventually, after a couple minutes, I shook my head again.

“Maybe I’m imagining it. But let’s try to move as quietly as possible until we stop for the night. Just in case.”

“This isn’t just an excuse to shut me up, is it?” Kyros said.

I quietly chuckled. “No, it’s not.”

“Alright then.”

We spent the next hour or so making our way through the forest. Despite trying to move while making as little noise as possible, we made surprisingly good time: I estimated that during that hour we probably covered four miles – our normal pace was one and a half, two miles per hour at most. The main reason was that we didn’t have to cut through the undergrowth as much as we usually did, since there were many more animal trails than normal–

And suddenly, I realised what had been bugging me.

There were many more animal trails than normal.

I held up my arm again, and Kyros dutifully stopped a short distance behind me. I knelt down to the forest floor, and examined the trail we were on closely: it was well-trod, as if many large sized animals had passed over it recently.

Or as if…

I pushed a fallen branch aside, lifted a few leaves, and looked at the dried mud.

Faintly visible, impressed in it, was the shape of a boot.

“We’re not alone,” I muttered. “Someone has been through here recently.”

“Someone, as in a person?” Kyros asked.

I nodded. “I’m not an expert tracker, so I can’t say how long ago they passed through, but there are humans going around these woods.” I looked up at him. “Or almost humans,” I added with a smile, and he smiled in response.

“I doubt there are others like me around, and I don’t know of any other creatures that can shapechange,” Kyros said. “So yes. Likely human.”

“This may be a problem,” I said; as I straightened back up to my feet, Kyros gave me a puzzled look.

“Why is that? You should be happy about having other humans around, shouldn’t you? It means we’re close to our destination.”

I grimaced. “No, we’re still a way’s off from the village,” I replied. “And herein lies the problem. There are people who venture far from home, true; hunters and foresters, mostly. But these trails?” I pointed at the one we were standing on. “Too well defined. They can’t have been made by a single person: many people come through here, and often. This means there’s a settlement, likely a camp, nearby, and the only people who live deep in the woods, away from towns, are outlaws.”

Kyros tilted his head to the side, and looked at me curiously. “What’s an outlaw?” he asked.

I looked at him for a moment, then sighed: sometimes I forgot he wasn’t human, and as such, he had no idea what human society was like.

“An outlaw is someone who lives… well… outside of the law,” I explained. “It means they have committed crimes – that is, they have broken the law – and have been cast out of society as a result.”

“Crimes like what?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But stealing is a crime. Poaching is a crime.”

“Poaching?”

“Hunting animals without permission.” Kyros nodded, and, after a brief moment, I added, “Murder – killing another person without justification – is a crime.”

The dragon looked at me for a second, and then nodded again. “I see. So depending on what kind of criminals they are…”

“…They may be dangerous,” I concluded, nodding. “So I would like to avoid encountering them, if at all possible.”

Kyros nodded again. “Yes, I see,” he said. “That is probably for the best.” He paused. “So what do we do?”

I shrugged. “We keep doing what we were doing. We keep moving, as quietly as possible, trying not to attract attention, and hope we pass through here without being noticed.”

“Bit late for that, guv,” a voice said.

Kyros and I both turned to look at the speaker: about a half dozen metres away from us, almost half-hidden by the foliage, a man was standing. He was dressed in practical clothes, which were almost but not quite the same colour as the surrounding forest, and helped him blend in with his surroundings, and he was armed: a sheathed sword hung from his belt, and a bow and quiver was on his back, within easy reach.

Almost unconsciously, my hand came to rest on the pommel of my sword.

“How long have you been watching us, sir?” I asked. “Eavesdropping on a conversation is not polite, you know.”

“Not that long,” the man shrugged. “And I wasn’t eavesdropping. I overheard. Even though you tried to talk quietly, voices stand out here.” He gestured at the woods around us.

I nodded. “And how many of your people are watching us right at this moment, bows trained on us?”

Kyros looked around, startled, but the man smiled. “A few. I see you understand how this goes.”

“It’s not my first time.”

He nodded. “So I gather.” Then his eyes hardened. “We would have your belongings, gentlemen. All of them.”

“You what?” Kyros exclaimed. “Don’t you know that stealing is wrong?”

The man looked at him in puzzlement for a moment, then laughed. “Yes. Yes it is. What are you going to do about it?”

Kyros made to move forward, but I held up my arm, and he stopped.

“You may have most of our belongings, sir,” I said. “But not all. We would like to keep our clothes, and our weapons,” I moved the hilt of my sword with my hand, “and enough provisions to reach the nearest village.”

“I see,” the man said, looking at me, apparently amused. “Well, the problem, guv, is that everything that is in our territory rightly belongs to us.”

Kyros looked like he was going to object, but I shot him a glance, and he remained quiet.

“So I ask of you, what are you willing to barter for clothes, weapons, and enough provisions to reach the nearest village?” the man asked, his eyes narrowing.

I held his stare. “I know where you can find a stash of items which you may find of value,” I answered. “How do you think the two of us happened to be passing through here, without first having passed in the opposite direction?”

A nod. “Yes, I do have to admit I was wondering that. Do enlighten me.”

“We fell down a cliff,” I explained, and pointed at the large bandage I still sported on my head. “This is the result of that. Luckily neither of us was injured enough to prevent us from walking, but my horse died in the fall.” I grimaced at the memory of Ness’ corpse lying on the forest floor. “And she was laden with baggage, most of which we couldn’t carry, so we were forced to leave it behind. If you let us pass, and let us keep what we asked for, I will tell you where you can find it, sparing you what would undoubtedly be a long search.”

The man looked at me for a long moment. “How do you know we won’t still take everything from you once you’ve told us where to find the items you’re talking about?”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “But I hope you will honour the bargain.” I paused. “After all, despite being outlaws, you must have some semblance of honour, or else you would’ve killed us before we could even notice you.”

Again, the man stared at me, then nodded. “We have an agreement, guv.” He made a gesture, and a handful of men stepped into sight from the forest around us, lowering their bows. “Lads, please relieve them of what they have, but leave them their clothes, their weapons, and enough food for three days’ march.” He nodded at me. “That should be enough for you to reach the village.”

I nodded back. “Thank you, sir.”

Kyros had been mostly silent during the bargaining, and he didn’t speak as the outlaws went through his pack, removing most of its contents; then they repeated the process with my pack.

“Alright,” I said, once they were done. “My horse’s grave, and the baggage we left behind, is about a week’s march in that direction, at the bottom of a cliff.” I pointed. “A week’s march for the two of us, mind; I think you will be able to move more quickly.”

The leader of the outlaws nodded. “That’s very likely, yes.” Then, after a moment, he added, “Thank you for your business, guv. You may go now.”

I nodded, and started hoisting what was left of my pack on my back.

“Say. Out of curiosity,” the leader said. “What is that symbol you have on your chest?”

I hesitated. “This is… uh… a crest.”

“A crest, huh.”

“Yes, don’t you know?” Kyros said. “Adrian is a knight. He’s the Egg Knight.”

Dead silence fell on the woods, and I glared at the dragon: it was true that, during one of our conversations, I’d explained to him what the crest on my clothes stood for, but I didn’t think he would decide to show off his knowledge at exactly the wrong time.

“Indeed,” the outlaw leader said. “Well then, unfortunately I think the bargain we just made is off.”

“What?” Kyros exclaimed. “Why?”

The man shrugged. “For profit, of course. After all, knights are important people, and important people usually fetch a handsome ransom. We’ll keep you in your camp until we can contact the authorities, and see what they offer in exchange for your life.” He paused. “Lads.”

He gestured, and the other outlaws started moving towards us.

My pack fell to the ground, and my sword came out of its sheath, lightning-quick: before the outlaws could realise what was happening, I’d cut two of them down, and whirled around to face the rest.

“Oh, what? We’re fighting? We’re fighting!” Kyros said, his voice gleeful. “Okay then!” He punched the closest outlaw in the face, knocking him out cold, and then stood still for a moment: I realised he was about to turn back into his full dragon form.

“No shapechange!” I said quickly, stepping forward and sinking my sword into another outlaw. “Use a weapon instead!”

Kyros looked at me, puzzled, but knelt down and retrieved a sword from one of the dead bandits. Meanwhile, I stepped forward again and killed yet another foe; the others tried to scramble away, but found it difficult to move quickly through the undergrowth, and I managed to keep them within reach.

Within seconds, Kyros was by my side, swinging wildly – I realised I would have to teach him how to fight with a sword after this, he had absolutely no technique nor discipline. Still, he managed to cut down an outlaw, just as I stabbed my fifth enemy: only the leader was left, still standing a way’s from us.

“Why you…” he said, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow; he drew back the string, taking aim at Kyros.

“Kyros, look out!” I said, and I pushed him down to the forest floor: the arrow that was meant for him instead whizzed above his head, and grazed me in the arm; I bit back a grunt of pain.

The outlaw leader fumbled for another arrow, and I charged at him; he dropped the bow, and drew his sword in time for our blades to cross.

I looked at his sword: it had a peculiar shape, one which I recognised – curved, and with a few barbs coming out of it, and a decorated, looping hilt.

“Where did you get this blade?” I asked, pushing against it with my own sword, and almost throwing the man off-balance.

“I took it off a passing foreigner,” he replied. “After I killed him, of course.”

I shook my head. “Well, one thing you should know about the ochaidei,” I said, stepping backwards and hooking my blade into the hilt of the outlaw’s sword, “is that while it’s a good sword, it takes more skill to use it than a normal blade. Skill which you clearly don’t have.”

I stepped backwards again, and yanked: the bandit’s sword went flying, along with one of his fingers, cleanly cut off; he screamed in pain. I didn’t leave him time to recover, though, but stepped forward again, and skewered him with my blade.

As he dropped lifelessly to the ground, I glanced around, looking for other foes: when I saw there were none in sight, I slowly exhaled, and let my taut muscles relax.

Damn, I thought. I always disliked having to kill someone, and I would’ve very much liked it if we’d been able to move on without having to fight; but the outlaws had decided otherwise.

“Hey, good job!” Kyros said, patting me on the back. “This is only the second time I’ve seen you fight, and the first one didn’t last long. I must say, you’re very skilled.”

I shrugged. “I’m a knight, I’ve trained long and hard to become this skilled. You, on the other hand, need to polish up on your sword technique.”

He smiled at me. “I never had a reason to use a sword, I always fight with claw and fire usually.” He paused. “But why did you stop me from shapechanging?”

“Because there were probably other outlaws hiding in the woods, outlaws which are now running away, and if they’d seen you turn into a dragon they would surely spread the word,” I explained. “It’s best not to attract any undue attention.”

Kyros looked at me, and nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” I nodded, and raised my arm to clap him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s gather our things and be on our–”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, suddenly.

I blinked at him. “Huh? What?”

“Here.” He pointed at my arm, and I saw that there was a deep gash in it, which was slowly oozing blood.

I thought back. “Must’ve been when that guy,” I pointed at the dead outlaw leader with the blade of my sword, “shot an arrow at you. I pushed you out of the way, remember?”

Kyros stared at me. “You pushed me out of the way of an arrow.”

“…Yeah?”

“You mean you’ve saved my life.”

I returned the stare, slowly coming to realise what that meant. “I guess I did, yes,” I said.

After a long pause, Kyros asked, “Does this mean we have to fight now?”

“No,” I said, and shook my head. “It means my debt has been repaid, true, but…” I spread my arms, and gestured at the woods around us. “The two of us fighting, right here, right now? It would be pointless. The winner would be injured, and would find it difficult to make his way to the village, possibly even dying in the forest. What would be the point?”

Besides, I thought, to be completely honest, I really don’t want to fight you.

I’d grown fond of Kyros during the time we’d spent together, and the thought of having to try to kill him…

Kyros nodded. “Good. Because, to be completely honest, I really don’t want to fight you.”

I looked at him in surprise. Wait, were dragons psychic now?

“Let me take care of that wound for you,” Kyros said.

“Be my guest. Bandages are in my pack,” I replied.

He shook his head. “No need for bandages. Hold still.”

He grabbed my arm with his left hand, and put his right thumb into his mouth, biting down with his sharp teeth, piercing the skin, and drawing blood – it was deep red, much darker than human blood. Then he reached out, and smeared his blood all over the wound, which started burning.

I flinched back. “Kyros, what–” I said, staring at my arm, but I quickly stopped talking: the gash had quickly started healing, the skin and underlying muscles knitting together, and while I looked on, within minutes, the wound had all but disappeared. The skin was now uninjured, as if it had never been broken: it even looked… younger, somehow – lighter, more soft, more pliable, and less hairy than the rest of my arm which surrounded it.

“What in the seven hells?” I asked, looking at Kyros. “How did you do that?”

“We dragons heal quickly thanks to the magic in our blood,” he said, shrugging. “That blood – that magic – can also be used to heal others. I’d put some on your head wound, too, but that cut was too deep, so it only had a limited effect.”

“Magic in your blood,” I said, blankly.

He nodded. “Comes from our heart.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest.

Something in the back of my mind clicked, and I stared at him in growing horror.

“Kyros. Tell me,” I asked. “What kind of magic could someone do if they, somehow, got a hold of your heart?”