Time passed slowly. Soon, summer bled into autumn, and Kaz learned how to shoot a bow. He started wearing pants, and they rarely went to town, except to sell their furs and meat. They lived off the land. Kaz learned how to identify poisonous plants from edible ones, how to whittle, though he questioned giving a four year old a knife, how to make a fire, how to tan a hide and dress a deer. He thought this life was much preferable to a life in a fancy estate, and he was happy.

It was a life away from the plot, just the way it should be. Though, it did occur to him that Kazerine was an experienced magic practitioner, which meant he should be able to use magic, and once that realization came to him, well.

He experimented.

Which was what he was doing now. He understood the basics of magic in this world. Magic was drawn from the land and yourself. The more powerful you were, the more mana you had to pull from. Anyone could learn magic, but only those with a lot of magic potential could reach great heights. So, he started practicing. He casted small spells first, when Aster wasn’t around. Small sparkles in his palm. A lick of flame at his fingertips. Frosted snowflakes of ice. Breaths of wind. Elemental magic was the most basic of the magic principles, and he practiced. Mostly because he could, and, well, it wasn’t like magic was real in the real world.

Why shouldn’t he practice it, he thought?

Now, though, he was in a bit of a pickle.

Little grunts and gasps escaped his lips as he tried to saw through the roots trapping his feet in place, but they just kept growing back. He let out a groan and dropped his head, frustrated and angry, and flopped over. Slowly, the roots grew up his knees and legs, and he stared up at the sky above his head. Well. He fucked up. He would have to wait for Aster to come rescue him.

He was defeated by roots.

They continued to crawl up his body, and a shadow casted over his body. He looked up and squinted at the man, dressed in pants and a shirt and a long, open robe lined with fur, and the man stared down at him, white hair spilling off of his shoulders as he studied Kaz in silence.

“Well, you’ve gotten yourself into a fine mess,” he said as his gray eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Either help or leave me alone to suffer,” Kaz said, and the man tilted back his head and laughed loudly. He reached forward with his staff and just touched the roots crawling all over Kaz’s body, and they turned to ash.

Oh.

He was a mage, Kaz realized as he scrambled to sit up.

“Now what is a child like you doing miles from the town, hm?” the man asked as he bent over, his hair sparkling in the sunlight in a way that was downright unnatural.

“I, uhm,” Kaz stammered as he realized he’d been rude to a mage. “I live in the forest. With my dad.”

“Your dad?” the mage echoed, and Kaz nodded several times.

“My dad. Aster the huntsman,” he said, praying to all that was holy this man was not about to kidnap him.

“Aster,” the mage repeated with a stunned expression on his face, and Kaz hesitated. “Aster has a child?”

“I mean, I’m not, like, his,” Kaz said. “He found me in the forest after my mom… left me.”

The mage stared down at him, and Kaz stared back at him in silence.

“Well, we should go find your father, shouldn’t we?” the mage asked and offered his hand, and Kaz hesitantly took it. The mage swept through the forest with his head held high, looking like a Tolkien elf, with his regal countenance and smooth manner of walking. He walked with purpose and direction, as if he knew exactly where he was going, and Kaz found he was having a hard time keeping up with him.

“What is your name, child?” the mage asked after a long, long moment, and Kaz squinted up at him.

“Kaz,” he replied, and the mage hummed.

“Kaz Bolton, then,” he said, and Kaz blinked. “Aster’s last name is Bolton.”

“Oh…” Kaz said faintly, because he didn’t know that. “Wait. How do you know my dad?”

“We used to be good friends,” the mage said as he continued to walk through the forest, as if he knew exactly where he was going. His hand was cold. “We used to go on adventures together.”

“Adventures?” Kaz echoed, because he didn’t know Aster was an adventurer, and the mage hummed.

“Adventures,” he confirmed, and said no more, not even offering his name.

They eventually reached the clearing, where Aster was busy tanning a hide, and he looked up at their approach in surprise. Kaz let go of the mage’s hand and ran up to him, and Aster swept him up and set him on his hip.

“Hadrian,” he said, and Kaz looked between them. There was electricity sparking between the two. They were just staring at each other, like they couldn’t believe the other was there, and Kaz gradually realized this was love.

“I see you got a daughter,” Hadrian, apparently, said, after a long, long pause, and Aster cleared his throat.

“He’s at that age where he wants to be called my son,” he said, and Hadrian blinked at Kaz as understanding dawned.

“Ah. My apologies,” he said to Kaz, and a long, uncomfortable pause reigned.

“I need to finish tanning this hide…” Aster said slowly, and Hadrian nodded.

“Of course,” he said, and turned to walk away.

“That doesn’t mean leave,” Aster said in annoyance, and Hadrian froze.

“Right,” he said, and turned around again. “Were you aware your son was doing magic?”

Aster blinked at Kaz, and Kaz looked up at him.

“What?” he asked faintly, and Hadrian took a deep breath in.

“I just found him tangled up in roots he grew himself,” he said, and Aster was quiet for a long, long moment.

“Kaz,” he said and dropped to a crouch. “Can you go fetch some water from the well?”

“Okay,” Kaz said and walked past Hadrian, grabbing the bucket as he went to take to the well. He walked around the side of the house, and voices followed him.

“Kaz is my son. You’re not going to take him on your travels,” Aster said, and Hadrian coughed awkwardly.

“Actually… I came here to see if that… that offer was still open,” he said, and there was dead silence.

“That was five years ago, Hadrian.”

“I know. It’s been a long time,” Hadrian said, and there was a muffled curse.

“I know time isn’t the same to you, but you left me hanging, waiting for you to love me, for five years.”

“I do love you. Still. And I loved you all of those five years.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you knew it.”

“Well, you never offered to travel with me,” Hadrian said, sounding annoyed now, and Kaz desperately wanted to give him pointers on how to talk to a spurned lover, because that was not the way to do it.

“I wanted to settle down with you! Adopt a child with you! Love you in one place. Not all over the world, chasing down rumors of spells, collecting spellbooks and ancient histories no one cares about!”

“I just got here, and you want to start an argument?”

“Yes, I want to start an argument!” Aster said loudly, and Kaz crouched by the wall and listened intently, because he didn’t know Aster was even remotely gay. What on earth?

“Then, I can leave,” Hadrian said, and there was the sound of something slamming into a wall. Kaz blinked at the sound of kissing, and then he snuck away, towards the well. That was not for him to hear.

Was Aster an adventurer? Kaz had seen a sword in a chest once, but he had thought it was an old family heirloom. It was old and not well kept, but maybe it had been Aster’s sword. Was he a fighter? It seemed hard to believe. He was quiet and not a man of violence, gentle, soft spoken, with a heart of gold. Kaz hadn’t thought of him as anything but a huntsman.

He dropped the bucket down the well and drew the water, pouring it into the bucket at his feet, and then he lifted it up with a heft of effort, dragging it around the corner. The two adults heard his approach and sprang apart as if they’d been burned, panting hard, flushed, with rumpled clothes, and Kaz gave them an unimpressed look.

“I’ve got the water,” he said loudly, and set the bucket down. “It’s heavy.”

“Right…” Aster said, straightened out his clothes, and turned to Hadrian. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Hadrian echoed, and Aster gave him a meaningful look.

“Dinner,” he confirmed, and Hadrian hesitated before he looked back at Kaz. His eyes softened slightly, and he dipped his head.

“Of course,” he murmured.

“Good. Good,” Aster said nervously. “Kaz, can you take that in for me?”

“Okay,” Kaz said and lifted up the bucket of water, practically staggering into the cabin with it and putting it down in the kitchen. With a sigh, he walked to his bed under the loft and collapsed down on it, staring up at the ceiling and the cracks in it in silence. They were still outside, and they probably wouldn’t be coming in for a while. It seemed that they had a lot to talk about. Maybe Kaz should start dinner, but he didn’t know what Aster had planned for it, so he would keep his hands to himself.

Idly, he wondered if they were famous adventurers. It would be nice if he knew the history of this world. There was net zero worldbuilding in A Lady’s Favor except what was absolutely necessary for game mechanics. He couldn’t believe it was never fucking explained why Kazerine turned into a fucking dragon. Maybe there was a secret ending or something he wasn’t aware of. Maybe that was it.

He managed to get the harem route, but maybe there was another ending he wasn’t aware of? All he remembered was that Kazerine was very confused and upset to be a dragon. Like she didn’t know. And why did his mother abandon him? Why was he left to be raised by his father? His mother appeared to be human, but… Maybe she was the dragon? He didn’t even know if dragons existed in this world.

Hadrian might know, he realized. Hadrian might know, so maybe he should ask him. He seemed to be a knowledgeable fellow.

Kaz sat up on his bed and slipped down, padding for the door, but it opened before he got a chance to pull it open. Hadrian and Aster stepped in, and Hadrian took off his robe and hung it on the rack like he was used to it. Kaz eyed him warily, and Aster put the kettle over the fire.

“Kaz,” he said, and Kaz opened his mouth and shut it. “Go sit at the table and work on your letters.”

“Are there dragons?” Kaz asked, and both Aster and Hadrian froze. An expression crossed Hadrian’s face like pain, and Aster swallowed tightly.

“Occasionally,” Hadrian said, and so, Kaz was right. There were dragons. Okay. Maybe he was half dragon?

“Where are they?” he asked, and Hadrian and Aster exchanged glances.

“They typically keep to themselves and sleep, for the most part,” Aster explained. “Why are you asking about dragons?”

“I… heard people talking about them. At market,” Kaz lied, and sat down at the table, swinging his feet. “They were saying they steal children and wear their skin.”

That was another lie, and Hadrian looked horrified.

“No!” he said. “It’s true, they can shapeshift, but they don’t wear skin.”

“Oh,” Kaz said, and Hadrian cleared his throat.

“They’re the ones that originated magic,” he explained. “There’s great dragons, and then there’s lesser dragons.”

“Great dragons?” Kaz echoed.

“Great dragons,” Hadrian explained, but he looked a little… haunted. “The first ones, the oldest ones, with intelligence far beyond that of a human. Those are the ones that can shapeshift into a human, or anything else, for that matter.”

“Oh,” Kaz said quietly, it dawning on him that he was the possible child of a great dragon. “How many are there?”

“Well, currently, there’s eight,” Hadrian answered as Aster started cutting up the veal into cubes.

“Currently?” Kaz echoed, and Hadrian and Aster exchanged glances. Hadrian’s lips pursed, and he turned aside to set his bag down.

“Yes. Currently,” he said, and Kaz stared at them. Was one of them dead? Why were they acting so weird?

“There’s the ice and time dragon, Kirrim, who lives in the north,” Hadrian explained patiently, and Kaz was quiet. “Then, there’s the water dragon, Mervor, who lives in the sea, not sure which, but he lives in the sea. The fire dragon, Viekoras, rarely leaves his cave in the south. Then, there’s the wind dragon, Zepus, that follows the wind and never stops flying. The storm dragon, Seiru, lives at the top of a mountain, and the light dragon has never had a confirmed location. Their name is Onyth. After that comes the shadow dragon, Ronos, and no one knows where they are. The last one is the life dragon, Ferrilin, who primarily sleeps.”

“... If there’s a life dragon, then shouldn’t there be a death dragon?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian blinked, shocked.

“You’re quick on the uptake, aren’t you?” he asked in amusement. “We don’t talk about the death dragon.”

“Why not?” Kaz asked, relying on the precociousness of a four year old to carry him through, and Aster chopped down especially hard on the veal. Kaz jumped, not used to any show of emotion from Aster, and Hadrian pursed his lips.

“We just don’t talk about Shyllian,” he said, and so…

“Lesser dragons can’t shapeshift? Can they make babies with humans still?” Kaz asked, because he needed to figure out what was going on here, and Hadrian shook his head no.

“No. Only greater dragons can procreate with humans,” he said, and Aster hissed.

“Don’t use words like procreate! He’s four!” he said, and Hadrian blinked.

“Why not? There’s no age where it isn’t necessary for sexual education,” he said, and Aster glared at him.

“Kaz, go---” he cut himself off, realizing there was nowhere to go but outside if he didn’t want Kaz to overhear this conversation. “Go outside and play until I call you in for dinner.”

“Okay,” Kaz said and slipped off the stool, making his way to the door and pulling it open. Well. It seemed like it was time for an argument between dad and… dad? He had no idea what was about to happen, but he sure wasn’t going to question it.

Time to go practice some more magic.