‘We deeply apologize for the lapse in our services, the fault lies entirely on us. The employee responsible for transporting those spies has been terminated from our organization, and as a gesture of goodwill, we offer a forty-percent discounted rate open to negotiation on your next purchase.

As a deeply valued customer, we appreciate your frequent business.

Humbly,
Pargol’s Porters.'

The letter arrived by pigeon today, and Dragon read it through gritted teeth. Had it not been for the knitted gloves he wore, his claws might have punctured straight through those honorless bastards’ letter.

Of course, they were responsible for the spies. Dragon knew that, and they knew Dragon knew that. Black market passport stones were almost non-existent; their creation heavily controlled. Outside of porters, only the elites of the elites carried passports for personal use.

Those two spies who tried to assassinate Dragon were not anyone’s elites.

Setting the letter down on the table in his den, Dragon idly rearranged the cards of hide smattered across the surface with his gloved claws. Seemed Eta didn’t appreciate how much he’d marred the playing cards, so she knitted him a pair of pink gloves.

She was so considerate of Dragon, never once minding his beastly appearance. She showed him the reverence of a ‘boss’ without cowering before him.

Because of that, Dragon worried for her sanity. For a brief moment, she recognized this world, but the trauma that followed forced her to shut it out again. His princess reverting to her former obstinance wasn’t hard to spot, mostly because it never left her side.

She carried it around everywhere. And it stunk.

To the sky, it stunk the stench of death.

The best Dragon could do was to stitch a bundling for her to swaddle it in. That kept the stench to a tolerable level and they could resume their games of cards.

Although, it didn’t help matters that Domagon was attached to one side of her while Loogman was attached to the other. He’d managed to send Domagon away, lying to the beast about how matrimony required a priceless gift and it was Domagon’s duty to seek one out on a quest, that his procreative abilities would be restored when he returned.

When it came to the princess, Domagon was truly a simple creature. He never doubted Dragon in the slightest and bounded out the door immediately.

Dragon only wanted what was best for his ‘son’ and he owed what was best to the princess.

During their games of cards, Dragon received some payment from Loogman; Loogman answering his queries between hands, but currently, Dragon was stumped. He was down to five-hundred fifty questions and didn’t know how to spend them.

What he learned so far was invaluable to his ambitions; though, the answers required much interpretation on his part. An eloquent creature, Loogman was not.

He’d requested to wait on the remainder of his questions, a proposal his business partner was all too ready to agree to.

However, instead of keeping those two cooped up in his den, a den that spiraled the princess further down the path of insanity every day she spent here, Dragon offered a solution. The princess still hadn’t accepted the consumption of this world and her body was withering because of it.

Fact was, she was starving to death.

Might have been, she hadn’t considered eating as necessary with all the failings of Loogman’s world, the world she spent more time in than she’d ever realize.

It was more likely, she felt hunger but ignored it, just the same as every other trauma she’d come across so far. For Dragon to complete his bargain, he needed the princess to understand the need for consumption, how it worked.

So far, he’d only delivered half a princess, so Dragon only requested answers to half his questions. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever succeed in delivering a full one, as far gone as she currently was.

It really stunk to the skies above. How did she not notice?

Perhaps, baby-steps were the solution. If she came to understand the consumption of plants, she’d be able to accept the need for her own consumption. And Endell’s camps of plants were perfect for that. Unfortunately, the beasts inhabiting the camp outside Dragon’s den were not relatable creatures for her, despite her technically being one of them.

Perhaps, she’d identify with the humans, with the bunsacks scattered throughout Dragon’s desert. He’d set up dozens of camps of plants, but had a very specific one in mind. It was ruled by a creature completely similar to herself, albeit, without the capability of ascension.

What did that bunsack call himself? A mayor.

Yes, that ‘mayor’ was another of Dragon’s stitched beasts, except that one was also a transfer of flesh just like the princess. A human stitched inside a meat suit, that mayor. If she could relate to him and learn about the plant’s consumption, perhaps there would be hope to salvage her sanity, yet.

It was curious how Dragon viewed her. On the one hand, she represented the terms of a deal, but on the other, she’d become the nearest companion Dragon had since…since…

He looked over his own stitched body…

Yes, his princess was both a payment and a companion, but the former needed completed before considering the latter.

Another curiosity piqued Dragon’s interest, a long staff packed tight with fine black powder. It rested against the table next to him. With the princess and Loogman headed toward the camp of plants and Domagon off to complete his matrimony quest, Dragon finally had a moment of peace to study this…weapon?

Picking the metal staff up, his claws grasp it clumsily. Clearly the craftsmanship was a quality work, and though the purpose not discernible at a glance, Dragon knew it must be a great treasure. The sword his princess left embedded in the wall was a fine weapon of war, especially since it succeeded in harming Dragon as though he was but an ordinary bunsack.

The only other curiosities the spies brought was that striped portable canopy and this metal staff. Clearly, they thought those items were on par with the greatsword. Dragon hadn’t figured out a purpose for the striped canopy, yet, and given how the pair applied it, he assumed that purpose was rooted in idiocy.

But this staff…

His claws grazed over it. A quarter of the way up, there was a dangling…trigger?

He grazed the trigger. It was surprisingly light and—

  Kaboom!

What in!! Hmm?? Oh…

…interesting.

The billows of smoke cleared and Dragon had a big smile spread across his maw. What a curiosity, indeed.