As they both feared, the whole situation just got a whole lot more awkward than they expected it to be.

  Rory and Thomas were already waiting in the guild when Bartlett met them, with Henrietta waiting outside. They exchanged words and planned their job, where they discussed the cockatrice’s nest and what they should do to force it out into the open. Everyone were made aware of their disadvantages against a venomous monster in a cave, along with complications of relying on a dragon's fire.

  "The venom cockatrices spew is both corrosive and noxious," explained Bartlett. "A cave with bad ventilation will end up becoming our graves."

  "Dragon fire is also not an option," said Rory. "It can end up trapping us inside the cave, and the cockatrice will make short work out of us."

  Bartlett nodded, not wanting to tell them that Henrietta's fire was sealed.

  "Our only option is to lure it out in the open," continued Rory.

  "What do you have in mind?" asked Bartlett.

  "I can lure it out with these."

  Rory brought out some spherical objects from his satchel. One quick glance was enough for Bartlett to tell that they were bombs, complete with a fuse.

  "The man selling it called these 'screamer bombs'," said Rory. "They can create high-pitched noises akin to screams that would drive the cockatrice away from its nest. As a bonus, I also bought some flash bombs, which hopefully could give us an edge. It’s better to fight it outside than risking ambush inside the caves, which no doubt would be its nesting grounds. You do not want to deal with a bird's nesting grounds, especially one that can spew out corrosive venoms."

  Then Thomas chimed in.

  “How about the eggs?” asked Thomas. "I don't like to say it, but we can't just leave the eggs. We have to...uh...."

  "I'll do it if you can't," said Rory, understanding Thomas's reluctance. "While there's zero chance for those eggs to be fertilized, we can't be too careful."

  “I don't need the eggs,” said Bartlett. “All I need is its head, specifically its venom sac. And the gold as a bonus.”

  “Or, since you mention gold, we can sell the eggs to the researchers,” said Rory. "Pristine, unfertilized monster eggs are always on demand."

  “That’s your business, not mine. If the mage researchers wanted to deal with unruly, venomous chicks, then you can indulge them. You can keep the gold too.”

  Rory turned his gaze towards Bartlett, wondering about his decision. In the end, he decided not to ask.

  “Let's consider it when we finish the job. Anyone else have a question?"

  Thomas shook his head, while Bartlett just shrug.

  “Well, then," declared Rory. "If everyone is ready, let’s go.”

  They all nodded to each other and walked out of the guild hall. Kouri bid them good luck as they walked past him, though he was worried when he looked at Thomas. The young mage was clearly excited to be acquainted with a dragon rider. A little too excited, perhaps. Sure, there weren’t any Clydethian dragon rider around and Kouri doubted that he wanted to cross the borders to Manarithia just to ride one. But still….

  “I hope that human is going to be alright,” thought the lion man.

  Thomas kept his gaze towards Bartlett and his dragon, awed by their presence. He had followed the exploits of the dragon riders of Manarithia, but to not just met one, but also a dragon with such an unusual, regal color? He would not be able to contain his excitement if it wasn't for their current quest.

  This display of awe caught Rory's attention. Of all the people in that group, only he knew the extent of Thomas's fascination towards dragons. He wanted to call it an unhealthy obsession, though he had a feeling Thomas would disagree.

  That did not mean he couldn't tease him about it.

  "I told you not to get too excited," he whispered to his friend. "You don't want them to consider you a creep, do you?"

  "M-me?!" stammered Thomas. "Of course not! Do I look like I'm stalking them? We're part of their party, for god's sake!"

  Rory gave him a smug smile, irritating Thomas. The young blonde mage was aware of what his friend was implying, and Rory always loved to tease him, as mean as it sounded.

  Thomas had always been fascinated with dragons and their riders. Dragons were known to be proud creatures, but also with a degree of intelligence and even respect, which made them more than mere animals. He once read something about dragons choosing their riders instead of the other way around, hence their status as great warriors and their rarity. Dragons would only willingly let a person ride on their back after they had proved their merits. Not anyone could do so; Thomas read many incidents where riders who were rejected by their dragons suffered greatly. He heard about dragon riders who lost their minds, cursed by their dragons. It sounded improbable, but it did make a good moral lesson.

  Because of this, he could not contain his excitement when a dragon rider from Manarithia came to visit Sondheimer, of all places. They rarely went to Clydeth, and even if they did, it was not to a small town like Sondheimer. He soon surmised that Bartlett and the dragon were not with the Manarithian military, evident by the fact that they were looking for quests instead of attending to official dragon rider matters.

  And they were far more intriguing in person, not to mention his dragon's appearance. Her pinkish gray scales were natural in color, which was complemented by her bright, blue eyes. She also looked unusual for a dragon, given her mammalian-like ears, her mane color, and her unusual horn shape. Her mane was blonde, almost the same color as Thomas's. Her horns looked vaguely like corals. She had leathery wings, but they were translucent silver in color.

  It would make more sense if he was one of the dragons that hailed from the faraway Hoki empire, but from what Thomas had read about Hokinese dragons, they were massive, and their body were serpentine. Also, they would not breathe fire, as their domains were either the sea or the sky.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Thus, the more he looked at him, the more intrigued with her. She clearly was an aberration of many draconic features. Could she be a new, previously undiscovered breed? Or perhaps she was similar to the black-scaled Hokinese dragon with similar features (minus the mane)?

  The dragon's blue eyes turned to him, causing him to gasp in surprise and quickly turn away. She let out a deep growl, which Thomas assumed was her dissatisfaction of being stared at.

  "You're not a creep, Thomas," he reminded himself under his breath. "You're starting to act like one."

  Nearby, Bartlett wondered about Thomas's capability. To break the silence, he started asking the young mage.

  “So, what kind of spells do you know?” asked the man. “You said you know how to cast a barrier, but which kind?”

  “Oh!" said Thomas, surprised. "Uh...the magick armor kind. And the area-based ones. But my stocks are pretty weak compared to the more solid constructs."

  "Can you cast it any time you want? Does it need long incantation before you can cast it?"

  "Uh...we don't incantate," said Thomas. "Clydethians don't do that, Mr. Evans."

  "What do you mean? And Bartlett's fine, Thomas."

  “Show him something,” said Rory. “Don't pull from your stocks. Show him something small. What's it called? Cantrips?"

  Thomas nodded. As soon as they stopped near a clearing, he snapped his fingers. A fire came out from the snap like a spark. Soon, Thomas, with his nimble fingers, manipulated the fire spell among his fingers before pointing towards a nearby tree with both his index and middle finger outstretched, a gesture of someone finger-shooting. The fire then shot out of his finger with blinding speed before, a moment later, it hit the tree, creating a rather prominent hole.

  Henrietta was astonished. The last time she saw Thomas cast fire, it was nothing more than a candlelight. He looked so confident doing it when she turned her head to look at her brother. She was impressed. Unfortunately, she couldn’t express it with words.

  “You can just conjure up flames like that?" asked Bartlett. "No incantations at all?"

  “I don’t need to,” explained Thomas. “Clydethian magickal system does not rely on the power of words. We usually prepared the spells when it is safe to do so. The knowledge of those spells are inside my head, so all I need to do is concentrate really hard to a spellbook, and the spell will manifest as pages, complete with the magick formulae necessary to cast the spell.”

  “What he means is, Clydethians don’t chant spells in the middle of battle,” added Rory. “The Clydethians call it 'snap-casting', as you cast your spells like a finger snap. Fast, simple, and versatile."

  "And cantrips?"

  "Minor spells," explained Thomas. "Harmless on its own, but pair it with something...."

  Thomas mimed an explosion.

  "Also, since you mentioned incantation," continued Thomas. "Both Manarithia and Wyrith follow the same school of thoughts regarding spellcasting. Speaking the incantation can create bigger, more powerful spells, with better focus, than just snap-casting. I started that way at first since...well...."

  Thomas's expression darkened. He was reluctant to say it, aware of the current situation. Bartlett immediately caught on his reluctance.

  "You're a Wyrithian, aren't you? I can tell from your accent," said Bartlett. "Look. I won't judge. The war between our kingdoms have nothing to do with me. You clearly don't support them if you're so eager with joining a dragon rider."

  "He's right, you know," said Rory. "Let bygones be bygones, Tom. That kingdom doesn't owe you anything."

  Thomas simply shook his head. His expression slightly lightened.

  Bartlett also knew why he claimed to be a Clydethian. Henrietta's story told him what he should know about Thomas and his real identity. For now, though, it was better for him to pretend not to know and changed the topic.

  "I couldn't care less about the war," said Bartlett. "It's nothing but entitled royalists being offended by something so minor."

  “Exactly,” said Rory. “Like I said, Tom. Thinking too much about it will only give you a headache. I don't understand what they were thinking, going to a war for something as juvenile as that.”

  "It's a war born out of lies," said Thomas, his tone deepened. Bartlett and Henrietta both noticed how he lost any semblance of kindness in his eyes. It was replaced with fury.

  "What did I say about thinking too much about it?" said Rory with a sigh. "Just let it go, Thomas."

  Thomas's expression softened. He sighed.

  “You're right," said Thomas sadly. "It's all in the past now. There's no other way but forward."

  Henrietta exchanged a silent look to Bartlett, who gave her a sympathizing look. It hurt her, knowing that her brother was so close to her, yet she couldn’t say anything to comfort him.

  “I’m sorry,” sympathized Bartlett. His words were meant for both Thomas and Henrietta.

  “No, don’t be,” said Thomas. "I admit, I would do something stupid back then. I wasn't...exactly on the right mind. But I was reminded of her words. I have to honor her, and to be live as a good man. I am going to honor that wish, one way or another."

  Henrietta was touched upon hearing that. To her, that advice she gave him was made when she believed she would die. She was glad Thomas took that advice to heart.

  “So, how did you meet Rory?” asked Bartlett, trying to change the topic.

  "I...was on a boat," said Thomas, with hesitation apparent in his voice. "My, uh...my home...." He trailed off, unable so anything else. He glanced at Rory.

  "His mansion was raided by bandits," said Rory. "He told me his sister put him on a boat. Isn't that right, Tom?"

  "Y-yes. It is," said Thomas.

  Both Bartlett and Henrietta knew that it was a lie. Whether it was Rory's or Thomas's invention, it was hard to tell, though Henrietta believed that it was Rory's idea.

  "I was fishing at the lakeside when his boat drifted to where I was," started Rory. "I immediately realized something's wrong upon noticing the white boat covered in bloodied handprint. I looked in and I saw him in his blood-soaked clothes. I could immediately tell, from his thousand-yard stare, that he was traumatized. His tears were already dried by the time his boat reached me. I saw survivors who act like that, so I know he's not faking it.

  "I took him in. Help him recover. It was a rough patch, let me tell you what. But, in the end, he came through. He told me his story and what he wanted to do to honor his late sister. He wanted to be stronger, so that he could live his life as a stronger man."

  "By stronger you mean, be an adventurer?" asked Bartlett.

  “I taught him how to fight,” said Rory. “It wasn’t a pretty sight, let me tell you. God, you could hardly lift anything with those weak, nobleborn arms of yours back then. And your naivete…you still have a long way to go on that front."

  “Well, don’t blame me. I had a rather doting sister and the youngest in the family. Everyone is so concerned with my health, especially Henri. I know she's not the kind of girl who plays with dolls, but I have a feeling she thought of me as her doll."

  Henrietta, the subject of the conversation, felt a metaphorical sword stabbed her through her chest. His words were biting and on the point. She never thought he considered her affections like that.

  "But I won't lie," said Thomas. "Those last moments of us together...I'm grateful to know that despite her headstrong, brawny personality, she still had the comforting tenderness of a woman I respected. I wish I can thank her. Alas...."

  Bartlett glanced at Henrietta, silently nodding at her while smirking. She, too, smirked. While it was hard enough not being able to tell him who she really was, this was still a good compromise.

  “We better focus on the cockatrice instead of discussing family history,” said Rory. “There’s a time and place for that.”

  Everyone agreed. It was clear Thomas did not want to talk about the event any more than Henrietta was. She silently appreciated Rory for protecting Thomas. That cover story sounded as if it was his idea instead of Thomas, for Henrietta knew Thomas couldn't lie, or concoct a story on a fly like that. There was no way Rory wouldn't recognize him as a prince; the castle was very identifiable. Even a fisherman would know that it belonged to someone important, or at the very least, recognized it as belonging to a governor, or even more. The fact that he called Thomas a 'Nobleborn' was the proof of this knowledge.

  Bartlett, who knew the story as told from Henrietta's point of view, silently acknowledged Rory's awareness of Thomas's identity. In fact, he was even more grateful by the fact that Rory did not make use of this knowledge to exploit Thomas in any way. Despite his blunt personality, he was a good man, and Bartlett could appreciate that.

  He only hope that one day, Henrietta and Thomas would be reunited properly. Only time could tell.