Ignacia slumped in her chair after closing the book she’d been reading. She and her grandfather had been working day and night to learn more about the magic used to create the drakes and trying to figure out who could be making them. Very few mages out in the world knew how to use such dark magics to create such horrendous beings. She could only imagine the pain all the creatures went through before their transformations.

“Who would do these things…?”

“Try not to stress too much, sweetie,” Daelyniel said through the mirror. “You’re going to give yourself a headache again.”

Ignacia stuck her tongue out at him. “Darling, you know I can’t rest until I figure out the answer.”

“I’m not dealing with your nonsense again if you’re sleep-deprived,” he griped. “Do you know how confused everyone was when you went on about cheeses? You even gave me and Galenova a whole lecture about cheese for three hours! I’m not going through that again, you crazy woman!”

“Still here?” Oren walked up to his granddaughter and nodded to Daelyniel. “You need to eat your dinner. And you need to rest.”

“Rest can wait,” she said dismissively. “We know how the drakes were made, but now we need to find out who is making them and why. And how exactly this person, or people, are getting what they need to create them. Prince Phenex said dragon blood would be needed to create them. Who would be powerful enough to trap one dragon?”

“Dragons are powerful, but not invincible,” Oren told her. “But overpowering one, especially one of the legendary dragons, requires a great deal of power. That’s the only reason why the Dwarves made that silent agreement with them. So long as we don’t bother them, they don’t bother us.”

Ignacia walked over to the wall where they had a large map of Oretierra. “But isn’t it a little strange that we’ve only seen the Bronze Horror and none of the other ones? Why is he active?”

Daelyniel frowned. Now that she pointed it out, they hadn’t seen any of the other dragons, and it was strange that only the Bronze Horror had been seen. "That is odd now that you mentioned it. We went from not seeing dragons in what, a thousand years or so? Maybe more? Now, we see the Bronze Horror on a semi-regular basis.” He saw the curious look on Ignacia’s face. “Igy…”

She smiled innocently at him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I can hear the thoughts swirling around in your head, you crazy woman! You’re thinking about traveling to the Dragon Isles aren’t you?” he asked. The Dragon Isles consisted of six small islands that were south of Oretierra. They were known to be the home islands of the six legendary dragons. It was forbidden for any outside races to go to them, and any who tried to invade them never made it out alive. Only the Dwarves could visit, but even that was considered a risky move. It was a silent agreement, not an official one after all. And Dwarves only went there to leave offerings to them and nothing more.

“Absolutely not!” Oren shouted in outrage. “Ignacia, you’re not going to the Dragon Isles!”

Ignacia was about to say something, but the shouts from outside caught her attention. She and Oren rushed to the window and heard one of the guards shouting, “Dragon!” The Bronze Horror flew past the castle and continued flying south. His presence didn’t concern her too much, but what did concern her was the blood that spilled everywhere when he flew by. Some had gotten on some soldiers—who were quickly removing their armor because of how hot the blood was—and some were screaming in pain when it got on their skin.

“That can’t be good,” Daelyniel commented.

At that moment, Rustam entered the room. “Igy! I didn’t see him, but did Yamanaereus fly by?”

She nodded and pulled the lime charm off her hat. “Yes, and he’s wounded! Let’s go!” She tossed the charm out the window and waited for it to float and get bigger before jumping on it. Rustam jumped next to her and held on as the plush began flying away.

“Keep me updated, Igy!” Daelyniel yelled through the mirror and disappeared. The mirror slowly floated down and gently landed on the table.

“Ignacia Flare-Star! Rustam Scale-Singer! Get off that lime!” Oren yelled. “You can’t go after the Bronze Horror!”

“We’ll be careful!” she reassured him with a wave and had her plush fly away before he or someone else tried to stop them. “Hang on, Rust!”

Rustam nodded and braced himself as Ignacia made it fly as fast as she could. Yamanaereus was very far away, but he hoped they could see where the dragon landed. "What do you think happened?”

“Something not good. He spilled blood everywhere in his path, so he’s injured. Soldiers were having to remove their armor quickly because of how hot it was. Some were even screaming,” she explained. “Was the blood that hot to you?”

The Dwarven prince shrugged. “I remember it being hot and I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to be a distraction to Yamanaereus. After that, I kinda forgot about it until I woke up and Sir Oren told me I would have some scarring from it.” He shivered thinking about that memory and wondered if it was possible that another dragon was around. “Do you think another dragon is nearby?”

Ignacia frowned and pulled her book out. “It's a possibility. Grandfather and I were wondering about the gray dragon that attacked you and the Bronze Horror. We’ve been trying to guess what animals were used to create it, but we’re not sure. Structurally, it looks like a dragon, but there’s something different about its bones. We just haven’t had time lately to closely look at them.”

When they reached the Isles, Ignacia made sure to keep them high enough just in case they were attacked. There didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary, but they didn’t see any of the dragons there. Ignacia saw something red on the beach and had her plush go down so they could see it better.

Rustam jumped off as soon as he could and ran over to the bloodstains in the sand. The trail led into the forest and figured the dragon was there. He nodded to Ignacia, who was reattaching her now normal-sized charm to her hat. “Look at this. He has to be here.”

“And he must be weak if he landed on the first island,” she said, pulling a stick out of her pocket. She used her magic to make it bigger, revealing that the stick was actually her staff. When she saw Rustam staring at her in question, she shrugged. “What? It’s a pain to carry a staff around. Better to keep it small and make it big when I need it.”

He just shook his head and chuckled. “You make a good point. Let’s go.”

They walked into the forest and followed the trail of blood. Rustam noticed that almost all the animals were eerily quiet. All he heard were the trees swaying from the light breeze and the fading sound of the waves as they walked further away from the beach. Ignacia picked up a stick and poked at a small puddle of blood that was still steaming. Her eyes looked at the end of the stick in wonderment when she saw the end of it dissolving. 

“By the Incarnates, how did you not roast alive when his blood spilled on you?” she asked her friend.

Rustam shrugged. “I guess we Dwarves are pretty sturdy?”

“Rustam, the guards had to remove their armor, and they were screaming in pain,” Ignacia pointed out and tossed the stick aside. She pointed the end of her staff at the steam. “And see that? That shows how hot it is!”

“Maybe it’s the red hair,” he joked and kept walking ahead. “Mother and Aunt Melita always joked that their family was born from the first flames of life.”

Ignacia snorted at that. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s true. The Bronze Horror’s blood only left behind burn scars on you. Scars that you barely notice!”

“Well, I notice them when it’s winter because they get a little itchy,” he stated.

“That’s not the point, Rust!” she shouted and waved her arms around. “What if you have some amazing ability to not burn? You could probably walk through an inferno and live!”

“I think you’ve been reading too many fantasy stories,” he chuckled. “As if someone like me would have a natural ability like that.”

Both of them went still when they heard a low growl ahead. They slowly walked toward it, and Rustam’s eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of bronze scales not too far from them. He held his hand up to signal Ignacia to stop. “Stay behind me.” He slowly walked ahead and gulped when they stepped out of the forest. There was no cover for them to hide behind if the dragon decided to attack them. 

But as they got closer, Rustam noticed Yamanaereus looked weak. The dragon stared at them, but he didn’t lift his head from the ground. His breathing was labored, and there was blood slowly pouring out of the side of his chest.

Rustam held his hands up to show they meant no harm. “Hello again. Do you recognize me? I-It’s been a while since we’ve been this close.”

The dragon looked him straight in the eyes and talked in a deep, raspy voice. “L-Little One…”

The prince nodded and smiled at him. “Yes. It’s me. My name is Prince Rustam Scale-Singer. I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself the first time we met. My friend, Ignacia, and I came to help you. We can heal your wound if you’ll let us.”

“By the Incarnates, he’s so much bigger than I thought,” Ignacia marveled as she looked at the legendary creature.

“Igy, focus,” Rustam hissed. “You can heal him, right?”

The mage nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m sure I can. He won’t eat me, will he? I promise I don’t taste good. I probably taste sour like a lime. Or do you think he likes limes? Do dragons eat fruit too? I would think they’re more carnivorous, but who’s to say they don’t like fruits and vegetables once in a while? Or maybe they do like fruits and vegetables more than meat? I don’t think I’ve ever bothered to look at their dietary preferences…”

Rustam groaned and shook his head. “Igy, please stop.” He smiled at the dragon nervously and bowed. “Forgive us. Please let us heal you?”

The dragon looked at them for a few seconds and made a noise that sounded like one of approval. He moved his arm out of the way to reveal the large and deep slash marks on the side of his chest. Rustam and Ignacia looked at each other and back at the marks.

“Here goes nothing,” Ignacia said, walking up to the dragon. She placed her staff on the ground next to her and held her hands over the wounds, closing her eyes.

Rustam stood next to her and helped. He wasn’t as good as Ignacia, but he could at least start the process and make it easier and faster for her. He looked over at Yamanaereus. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

The dragon glanced back at him for a few seconds before looking away. Rustam waited to see if he would answer, but continued healing when he saw the dragon close his eyes. Maybe the legendary being would tell them after they were done. Hopefully, they would get answers about everything happening.