"You're...a fox?" said Henrietta. "An actual fox?"

  "There's more than meets the eye, Henrietta," said the fox. "All will be answered in due time. Don't worry. I am not going to trick you. The fact that I'm here is proof of that."

  "Really? Is that all you have to say?" said a skeptical Henrietta. "Just so you know, your little game broke my tail."

  "You're the one who can't gauge her strength" said the fox with a smirk on her vulpine face.

  "And the pain? Was that really necessary?"

  "Absolutely. It's not everyday you see a dragon being slowly broken like that. But alas, I know when to stop. It's not as fun if you end up too broken. You don't just break your toys after playing it once, do you?"

  Henrietta was appalled by the fox witch's comments. The fact that her laugh was so evil sounding, albeit subdued, told her a lot about the person, or maybe animal.

  She was so incensed by this fact that she would not hesitate to mutilate the fox if it wasn't for Bartlett and her own need to break her curse. All she could say was a profound, "You bitch."

  "And I'm loving every second of it," retorted the witch with a smug smile, enhanced by her vulpine features.

  All Henrietta could do was letting out a frustrated growl.

  The witch, despite admitting to testing Henrietta for her own whims, did heal her broken tail, albeit not as painless as the dragon assumed a healing spell would. Her bones were essentially reset to their original position, and the process caused her considerable pain.

  "There, good as new," said the witch. "Now, then. Shall we continue?"

  Henrietta begrudgingly nodded and stood up, wobbling slightly due to exhaustion. As she did so, the forest shimmered, revealing that it was nothing more than a small forest with sparse trees and obvious cliffside.

  "Was that all just an illusion?" she asked the witch.

  "It serves its purpose well, don't you think?" said the fox.

  "Then the attacks? And the pain?"

  "Sense scrambling spell," replied the fox. "What hit you is nothing more than a brush from the low-hanging branches and some leaves, but I made it as if you're suffering the most painful sting from a poisonous barb. Of course, this wouldn't work if you're truly a dragon. That's when I found out that you're not what you appear to be. That, and your empty threats of burning this forest down. You can't, not with that collar around your neck."

  "I would if I could," said Henrietta with a huff.

  "I prefer you don't. But since you clearly can't, I have no worry about it."

  "Then can you break the cursed collar?"

  "All in good time, Henrietta of Wyrith."

  "Where are you taking me now? Where is Bart?"

  "It's not far now," said the fox. "Oh, a little head's up. You might feel a little disoriented, so keep close, alright?"

  Henrietta wondered if this was another trick, even though the witch clearly warned her beforehand. Nevertheless, this was the only way she could finally learn some truth about her curse, and any way she could to break it.

  As she walked with the fox, Henrietta started to feel strange. At first, it was a peculiar feeling where she thought she saw something by the corner of her eye. As she continued walking with the fox, she kept seeing the image by the corner of her vision but couldn't focus on it as she kept walking. As she continued walking, the image started to be more apparent until it settled right in front of her vision.

  It was an entrance to a cave, or a grotto, since it looked shallow and well-lit, complete with a bed and a kitchen made from wood. There was a small stream nearby, presumably for the witch's water supply. On the far corner of the cave was a bookshelf and a stack of books, with one book sitting on a pedestal in front of a magic circle. A rather delicate alchemical equipment was beside the bookshelf. Around the area leading to the grotto, the environment seemed warped, making it felt like like they were under a glass dome.

  "Simple, isn't it?" said the fox. "One can't afford to have much when you are on the run. Oh, if you're looking for your rider, he's fetching some water."

  "He's not your servant, witch."

  "Too bad he is until the mushroom effects wear off. So, make yourself comfortable. I'm sure he wants to listen, too. While I'm at it, would you like something to eat?"

  "I prefer we talk," said Henrietta. "Don't get me wrong, witch, but I don't trust you."

  The fox chuckled. To her astonishment, the fox she had been talking to started to transmogrify. Her forelegs slowly became arms, and her paws slowly became clawed hands. She then stood on her two hindlegs which became her legs, ending with digitigrade paws.

  Before Henrietta's eyes, the fox turned into a humanoid vixen with shoulder-length orange hair, complete with fur covering her whole body. Her face stayed vulpine, retaining her long, thin snout. She also had a bushy tail, much fluffier than in her animal form.

  "I wished I can do that," remarked Henrietta.

  "Too bad you're not a Sionnach," said the witch with a smile. "Or a druid."

  Henrietta heard footsteps, so she turned towards the stream to see a still confused Bartlett walking towards them with a bucket of water. When the dragon turned her attention back to the Sionnach, the vixen was already wearing a pair of tight, leather pants and a loose-fitting blouse that did not cover much of her body. It did not really matter, though, considering how her body was covered in fully orange fur.

  "Put the bucket in the kitchen, dear," said the witch. It took a moment before her command got through. When Bartlett did follow her instruction, he had a confused expression on his face. When he finished the job, the witch snapped her fingers. Bartlett suddenly snapped back to reality, confused as to why he was in a kitchen and there was a bucket full of water in front of him.

  "Huh?" he said. "I thought I was in the tavern. Did I...?"

  "Got kidnapped by the witch? You sure did."

  He turned around and saw a humanoid vixen walking towards him seductively. She was tall, at least seven feet tall. Most of that height came from her long, slender legs. He was perplexed by her appearance. Compounded by his drug-addled mind, he couldn't react when she was standing close to him. Bartlett looked up, meeting her gaze, and her toothy grin.

  Bartlett tried to reach for his sword, only to find that he lost it. In that moment, the witch tenderly hold his face with her hands and kissed him. Her long snout touched his lips, forcing them open as her tongue danced with him as they made out, at least until Bartlett pulled away.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Welcome back, dragon rider," said the witch. "Or should I say, Bartlett?"

  "H-how do you know my name?" asked Bartlett. "And why did you kiss me out of nowhere?"

  "Aww. I thought men like foxes," said the witch with a mock disappointment. "Unless you're not into beast people?"

  "I'm more into feline people, thank you very much," said Bartlett. "My dragon? Where is she?"

  The sionnach moved aside to show Henrietta sitting near the grotto.

  "Don't be too mad at her," said the witch. "She told me everything, about her being a princess, about you being a kind person, and that she wished she could properly ask you out if she's a human—"

  "Hey! Don't feed him lies!" blurted Henrietta with a growl. The witch only chuckled.

  "Ah, well," said Bartlett, rubbing the back of his head. "At least you're not a Wyrithian."

  "Sionnachs are not bound to any nations, dear. We're one of the faeries. Your quarrel with the Wyrithians made a good story, but it doesn't concern me."

  Bartlett could stay and ask her about her race, but he had a more pressing matter.

  "We're not here to hunt you down, Sionnach," explained Bartlett. "We came to ask for your help."

  "I know. It's about the curse befalling her, isn't it?" said the sionnach. "Let see...."

  She turned to Henrietta, staring at her for a while before she focused on the metallic black collar. She then grabbed it. Her expression turned serious, especially after the black metal band revealed the unknown runes.

  "So," said the witch. "You've found yourself in the company of fiends, haven't you, Henrietta?"

  "Fiends?"

  "This collar is the product of Vyrnian magick. Nasty, and only used by those who gave in to evil desires. Anyone who practiced this magick is surely out of their mind."

  He remembered Nolan, the Wyrithian soldier hunting Henrietta, attempting to cast a kind of black magick. Perhaps that's the so-called Vyrnian magick she was talking about?

  "Does it have something to do with her being a dragon?" asked Bartlett.

  "No, I don't sense anything like that from her," said the witch. "Whatever curse that turned her into a dragon has nothing to do with the cursed collar. What cursed her is something else."

  "Oh," said Henrietta with a disappointed tone.

  "But I have good news. I know how to break this cursed collar."

  "Really?!" said Henrietta.

  "Wait," said Bartlett. "I smell a catch somewhere. I doubt you'll be as generous after what you did to us."

  The witch let out a grin. "Spoken like a true adventurer. Had your fill with duplicitous people, I presume?"

  "I'm not that gullible, witch."

  "Yeah, right," she said, referring to the time she easily trapped him. She then returned to the task at hand.

  "This curse cannot be dispelled that easily. It's a solid curse that can only be removed by the caster. But you're in luck. I happened to dabble in alchemy."

  "Alchemy?" Henrietta peered into the cave. "Does that have something to do with that equipment?"

  "You guessed it. Simply put, I can concoct a potion enhanced with magick to break the collar. It's not pretty, and it would leave some mark. But what alternative you have than to return to the caster?"

  "I can live with scars," said Henrietta. "It's not like I have a reason to keep my image, anyway."

  "I don't doubt that. What's problematic is the ingredients."

  "Tell us," said Bartlett.

  The vixen walked into her home and opened some books at the same time, levitating them with a spell. She skimmed through them and even skipped to chapters with details about Vyrnian magick until she finally found what she was looking for.

  "Aha!" she said. "I found what I'm looking for. It's a sealing collar designed to seal a mage's capability to cast a spell, leaving them vulnerable, with an additional effect of debilitating them to the point of death. It's also strong enough to seal a dragon's fire. Whoever's casting it must have great magick reserve to be able to do that."

  "You know what we need?" asked Bartlett.

  "Let's see...You'll need a fire thistle, a malachite, three dragon scales, and a cockatrice's venom sac. The malachite I can get from a nearby mine, as with the scales. The fire thistle is a Clydethian plant, so you might have to travel there to find one. As for the venom sac--"

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a goddamn minute!" said Bartlett. "Did you say cockatrice? The monster that spewed out poison gas with corrosive blood? The chimera with the head of a cock?"

  Bartlett's comment prompted a snicker on the witch's part, causing him to be embarrassed when he realized what he just said. Henrietta did not react.

  "Couldn't you find anything less dangerous, or at least easier to find? Cockatrices aren't exactly common. I have never even encountered one before. And besides, I don't want to face a cockatrice if I found one!"

  "Too bad that's the only monster we have in this region with a venom sac."

  "Can't we just find a venomous snake and cut out its venom sac?"

  "You'd need to find at least fifty of them, and I doubt you can find any that easily. I'm giving you a simpler choice."

  "Doesn't sound so simple to me."

  "Nothing in life is simple. But I do believe in luck. Lucky for you, Clydeth has problems with chimeras lately. Some Clydethians mentioned it when they talked in the bar."

  "I thought you said travelers don't generally go into the town unless there are specific reasons," said Bartlett.

  "They did have a specific reason. They were also hunting me. Guess they found the town beautiful enough to live in."

  A wink from the sionnach was enough to tell Bartlett what she was implying.

  "Touché."

  "What are the alternative ingredients?" asked Henrietta. "Other than the snakes, I mean."

  "Any chimeras with venom sacs, like a hydra, which is not a native monster. Your best bet is to find one to hunt. Besides, one of the ingredients can only be found in Clydeth, so you have no choice but to go there."

  Bartlett sighed. While he really did not want to make things complicated, he had no other choice. The sionnach witch was their best bet, even though deep down, the human couldn't trust her at all, especially after she subjected her to a rather terrifying hallucination that caused him to become detached with reality.

  Henrietta also had her reservations. She may not have heard of cockatrices before, but Bartlett's rather specific description painted quite a hideous and dangerous creature in her mind. She started to wonder if it was worth the effort. She only convinced herself that she should try if she wanted to be able to breathe fire, also to rid herself of the nauseating aura emanating from the collar.

  "Bartlett," said Henrietta. "We have no choice."

  "Are you sure? Cockatrices are dangerous enough for me to avoid quests asking to hunt them down. Sure, the bounty is plenty, but the price to pay is much greater than the profit. Believe me, princess. We are not equipped to fight against a cockatrice. We need to find adventurers with specific skills."

  "I'm sure we can find them in Clydeth," said Henrietta. "You also got me."

  "Henrietta...."

  "If the price to pay to break this bloody collar are some scars and pain, then it's fine. I prefer we finish this earlier than later if we want to continue searching for a way to break my curse. Unless the witch is hiding the knowledge on purpose just to play with us."

  "I'm not," said the sionnach witch. "Cross my heart."

  Henrietta's remarks were brave and inspirational, even if it hid her resignation of ever finding a way to break her curse any time soon. She realized she was far more useful as a dragon than a human, even if her freedom was far more limited than she ever wanted.

  Bartlett, impressed with Henrietta's determination and courage, said, "You don't sound like a princess to me, Henrietta."

  "Princesses don't simply spend their day acting pretty. Besides, I am a trained swordsman. I filled my days with sword training. I did say I want to be an adventurer, right?"

  "And why would you want to do that, if I may ask?"

  "Fourth child out of five. I was not expected to be a queen, anyway. Let's go find a cockatrice to hunt and get this over with."

  Bartlett nodded in agreement, then turned to the sionnach. She seemed to sense what he was going to ask without him even asking. She did not even need to read his thoughts.

  "I am not tricking you, if that's what you're concerned with," said the sionnach. "Call me a witch, but don't expect me to act like one. I do not wish for anyone to suffer from Vyrnian dark magick, even if I dabbled in some dark magick."

  "If we really want to trust each other, we can start with names. You clearly know our names, but we don't know your name," said Bartlett.

  "I prefer not to give my name away."

  "The mystery is intriguing, but I am not going to call you a witch all the time. Besides, we are the only ones who will know your name. No one know the witch of the Carlesian mountain had a name, anyway."

  "Hmmm...you may be right. Okay, then. My name's Shana. You know where to find me."

  "Okay. We'll be back once we found the ingredients."

  "Don't be long."

  Henrietta still gave Shana a suspicious look, though Shana simply smiled as she, with Bartlett on her back, walked further and further away from her home, beyond the barrier. Once they were gone, however, she chuckled.

  "You shouldn't even ask my name in the first place," said Shana. "We sionnachs charmed our names. Once you tried to sell me out...poof!"

  She kept laughing to herself, but then slowly stopped as she realized that, in the end, it was she who was acting paranoid. The dragon couldn't say anything, or she'd ruin her cover. Bartlett made a good point about names. Intrigued by them, she closed her eyes and channeled her consciousness into one of the Carlesi townsfolk she charmed. Through his eyes, she saw Henrietta and Bartlett walking past the town silently.

  "Bartlett and Henrietta, isn't it?" said Shana. "Perhaps fate wants us to meet, after all. What are the changes of someone carrying the Vyrnian curse magick to me? If this isn't mother nature trying to tell me to fix my mistakes, then I don't what it means. Whatever the case, I wish you two luck. I want to meet you again, under better circumstances.