They unloaded the decoy cargo in the usual spot and left the dying light of the room.

Para hopped on Lys and held onto the saddle, not even bothering to cross her legs. He stepped off the landing, wings unfurled, to glide the few meters down to the lower level opening.

Most of the stop over bays were full. Bare stone walls and ceilings, privacy was begrudgingly granted with fences full of gaps. Some trading hubs were kind enough to provide bedding.

She took one look at the handful of remaining mattresses, another towards the bathing ledge door, and decided, “let’s book an inn room.”

“Agreed.” He sniffed the air. Even trader staples, reheated over a communal fire, smelled appetising when it was the only meal one ate in a day. “Food first.”  

The Green Feather’s bright doors were wide open, guarded by a smaller grey dragon wearing several loops of golden cord with green feathers dangling from the ends.

Lys turned his head slightly as they approached, angling his brass side away.  

He sung a couple notes that sounded like a soft flute, and the dragon responded in a similar tone. Both greeted each other, and Lysander enquired about capacity. The door dragon pulled out a notebook from somewhere and skimmed the contents. Several free tables.

Lys answered that they would take a top floor table and walked on in. The next part made her groan:  “table for one?”

“Two.” He raised his wing to emphasize that Para stood by his side.

The door dragon sung a quick apology and nodded them in. She sighed heavily and thanked him all the same, it was not his fault, but it grew tiresome after a while, and all she wanted to do was drink something expensive and forget her own name for the night.

Ha. Like that would ever happen.

The Green Feather was an older building though it was one of the few that was made from stone, and not carved into a rock face. It was a large dome shape, the lower floor primarily made up of foot traffic and standing room. The kitchen was in the center and circle, allowing access from all sides. Smoke from freshly grilled meats and deliciously baked vegetables rose up from the center, past the wrap around second level, and through the sizeable opening in the roof. All around, large signs warned patrons that flying was strictly prohibited, and the second floor was accessible by stairs at the front.

She leaned over the counter and grabbed the first bottle she got her hands on. No one noticed, they never did.

The top floor was just wide enough for a dragon to pass the tables without knocking something over, but two dragons passing each other and not knocking a table would be a feat of contortion. Lys kept his head high and quickly selected the first unoccupied spot.

He settled on the ground, swept his tail under the narrow lip around the edge of the table, and dragged out a stool for Para.

She breathed out and melted into the table. “Finally.” 

Lys echoed her sentiment.

A couple at the table beside them openly gawked.

The dragon sighed and turned his head away. Para felt a stab of anger and shot the couple the nastiest glare she could manage. “Fuckers,” she added for good measure. Hateful people should stay in their own homes where no one else had to interact with them, or form their own clubs and be hateful together. Wait, no, that was a cult.  

“Guess we are both pariahs no matter how much coin lines our pockets.”

“Hmm?” Lys sat up.

She dragged her chair under his neck and sat back down on his right side. “Just remarking on our low status in society.”

“Slightly higher than usual at the present,” he remarked, tapping his coin purse with a single claw.

“Let’s drop back to our worth, shall we?”

She pulled her short blade off her belt and stabbed it into the cork. The first swig filled her mouth with a bitter sensation and slightly spicy taste. Not bad. Not worth paying for, but for a freebie, it was decent enough.

A raised hand did nothing to catch a server’s attention.

“Hey,” she mumbled into her drink while still holding her arm up. “Want to order for us? Seems people really don’t want to notice me today.”

Six seconds after the dragon raised his leg, a server was by their table. She counted.

No doubt in for a long wait, the two passed the time by discussing their plans for the large payout they were to receive. A few days down south, to visit that newly discovered island. Word was that a new species had been discovered in the desolate wasteland.

She spotted two bowls coming their way and her comparison of good tailors in Inverlock died. Before it even reached the table, the smell was already wafting towards them. Such simple things made life worth living.

“Two bowls of goat stew, one dragon sized,” he placed the bowl in front of Lys, “and one person sized,” the second he placed in front of Para. “Then we have a person sized gin and tonic, and a dragon sized house red.”

Para took her drink from the server. He held out the second drink. And held it.

“Your drink?” The server prompted.

Lys had gone quiet. He was just – still. Eyes wide, jaw slack, neck rigid and strained tight like a carved statue. A breeze blew in through the opening in the ceiling, it ruffled his crown of feathers.

“Lys?” She waved a hand in front of him. “Hey, the server has your drink.”

“Ill just leave – “ She waved the server off without looking at him, muttering a quick thank you. Her eyes never left Lys.

Her chest was starting to hurt and she forced herself to breath. Wracking her brain, her memories, like flipping through a large book, she searched for an answer.

What had she done last time?

Shit. People were starting to glance over, she could feel their curious gazes on her back. There was no way to be subtle. She tapped his brass eye. Nothing. Placing the pad of her finger on it, she rolled it back.

Lys yanked his head back and swore.

He blinked at her. His eyes focused immediately. “Sorry, what were you saying?” He said in the dragon language.

She rubbed her fingers together, working out some of her nerves into the motion. “Lys, this keeps happening.”

“No it – “

“I have an infinite memory! In the three lifetimes I have known you, you have never just… stopped, like that. Not until this life.”

She swallowed past the building unease in her throat. All she could picture were the times she had seen him standing still, and began wondering how many of those were really just him choosing to be idle.

“You were laying with your eyes open a month ago. I thought you were just sleeping oddly and now I’m not so sure. Or when you couldn’t walk last week, your legs just stopped working. How can that be Lysander? How can you just forget how to walk while mid step?”

He hung his head and closed his eyes. “I know it scared you,” his jaw barely moved and he pronounced each word so carefully. Delicately.

“The brass is spreading,” she ran a hand over the metallic eye socket. It was a perfect match of his other side, except, made of a brassy, hard material. It extended all down the side of his face, to where the metal resembled the shape of an ear with no opening, and spreading down his neck. Where metal replaced skin, no feathers grew.

Halfway down his neck, it simply became skin. There was no junction. No cut between the two. The brassy colour lightened and felt less rigid, until she was touching skin.

“Are you sure you can’t remember when it started?” She pleaded. Hoped. That one day he would have a different answer.

But hope was dashed when he responded with a low note. Dragon tongue for a firm no.

“In all my memories, I look like this. From the day I hatched and saw my own reflection, I had as much brass as today.”

He was wrong. When she first met him, he was a young adult, brash and full of himself. And just like every other dragon, who saw her for only the time she was in front of his eyes.

Then her stupid ass got herself poisoned. The next time she met him, she was a different person, and he was a different dragon. A loner with a brass eye, and the moment she uttered that she remembered him from her previous life, something in that eye brightened.

“Yes, you were that Sil who dumped his drink on me. I remember you.”

And that was it. The start of their partnership.

Chatter around them quietened and a booming voice cut through the remaining conversations.  “Good evening, folks! Welcome to the Green Feather. We are celebrating the end of the trading week with three acts to keep your entertained while you fill your bellies.”

The roiling in her gut was slipping into a warm comfort, fixed by a good meal and drink. She leaned back against the railing and checked out the first act waiting beside the stage. Looked like a pair of Nox. How curious, Nox preferred to keep to their ancestral home deep in the mountains.

“We will discuss this later,” she told Lysander. “It’s not over, and get that smug look off your face,” she undid her cloak and tossed it on his head.

“Our first act is Golden Eye. Let’s hear show your appreciation for Ada and Arrow!” The crowd roared. Para raised her brows and sipped her drink. Missed opportunity to name themselves something starting with A. 

The guitarist raised his instrument and bowed. His smile dazzled the crowd and earnt a few whoops when he brushed a couple curls of hair away from the spines curving out of his cheeks.

Para’s jaw ticked as he was interrupted by the announcer hopping in front. “Just a reminder that all Island Meads are half price with a stew or roast.” The announcer, who was just a server with a loud voice, jumped straight off the stage, extracted a notebook, and stopped by a nearby table of excited patrons.

Cheap drink, fine, that was worth the interruption.

Ada strolled to the front with a click in her step, hip length hair clacking from all the ornaments woven in. Every part of her was jingling, her scaled tail covered in more bells than a jester.  

She used it to tap out a tune to a sea shanty. Para hummed along.

A drink appeared beside her curled hand and she nursed it all through the next two songs, two she had not heard before.

“All good stories are anchored in reality. Tonight we bring you the history you know in a never before heard song. We have shaped it, reinvented it, and best of all, made it catchy.” A few laughs arose. “Allow us to sing you about how the Four Gods came to be.”

Para threw her drink back in four gulps and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Let’s go.”