The Two Pages Podcast - #5 - Two Pages of Leprechauns

it's that time of month again, here is a post of our Two Pages Podcast. This theme was Leprechaun's for Saint Paddy's Day.

The Two Pages Podcast - #4 - Two Pages of Love

Our February episode is a true exercise in depravity Hilarious though not work friendly.

Booktube and Goodreads BookClub: For the Love of Fantasy

As many of you know I recently started a Youtube channel where I booktube (reviewing, recommending, ranting and raving concerning speculative fiction books). I have decided to put my Goodreads page to good use and start a book club! For the Love of Fantasy will read together one fantasy novel every month. Feel free to comment on chapters, suggest books and introduce yourself!
 For the Love of Fantasy. First book is TBA.
https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/154655-for-the-love-of-fantasy

Two Pages of Anything!

Maeve here! Exciting news everyone, Skeletroy Blockbuster, Thomas Fyre Heart and new comer Damon and I just did episode 3 of Skeletroy's show "Two Pages Podcast". Hilarious, but not work appropriate. Check it out!
Are you a writer? Contact Skeletroy via the Two Pages Podcast Facebook Group and volunteer your amazing stories!https://www.facebook.com/groups/295993897273922/
http://youtu.be/NJvjFmpWNvI

I've already shared this story on my primary website, but I am quite proud of it, so I am sharing it here as well. This takes place in the same world as my Tree of Nine Worlds Saga thousands of years before the story takes place.

Warrior Queen and the Valkyrie

In ancient times, there was a great winter that to this day is still known as the White Death that plagued the frozen shores of the Northlands. It was a long cold winter, never seen before by the likes of men and beasts, nor ever again. In the Strawberry Moon of that year it was still so cold that men died in the trails, dying in mere hours from the cold. For forty days and forty nights snow fell in a vast blizzard that collapsed the longhouses and many had no place to go. Many tried to launch their longships, but they froze in place, while others just wandered out into the cold abandoning all hope for life. Even women with new babes walked into the vast frozen ocean wishing for death rather than live in those conditions.

A clan one-hundred strong set out into the blowing flurries through the white sky, fighting to walk through the knee deep drifts of snow and all holding hands to avoid separating in the harsh winter winds. The man in front of them was no more than a grey blurred shadow. It wasn’t an hour after the clan had been made homeless that the first men dropped. With every step they made, a gruelling realization set upon them, the whole clan would never make it to the Castle of Rikiforn alive. The protection of the Winter King could only preserve them after they reached the ancient castle. There was even the chance that they would die long before they reached Rikiforn.

Clan Valdr pressed on, watching more and more of their family die in the white monster the world had become. It was nothing short of amazing when forty-seven of the men made it to the Castle of the Winter King and plead for shelter and food.

A man robed in winter white with a long white beard flowing past his waist came forth beyond he barred doors, his steps floating on the snow rather than sinking through the snows. The man approached the group and spoke with a deep booming voice: “You shall not enter. These doors shall open for no man, even under the command of the Winter Wolf himself no man shall enter.”

Discouraged, the group turned back to what they knew was certain death. For three days the forty-seven walked through the snows, aimlessly walking to their deaths. Forty-seven soon became thirteen, and on the third night there were no snows. Just a still dead cold. The thirteen laid down around a meagre fire and huddled together for warmth, ready to die together.

It was in the dead of night that the youngest heard a loud cry in the sky. She awoke and followed the sound of the cry even though the snow nearly came to her neck. She came upon a tree. Not just any tree, but an old ash that still had life. It had the foliage that any tree in the Strawberry Moon should have, but even that was not the most remarkable thing about this tree. On the highest branch sat a giant golden eagle, larger than the child herself, and he stared her down, eyeing her.

The child was afraid that in this harsh winter that she would be the only meal he was like to have. The child wept and spoke to her gods through the elder tree, telling the Eoli that she was ready to enter into the next life and leave behind this horrible winter.

“Do not prepare to leave just yet, sweet child.”

The child threw her head about looking for the source of the voice, but she found no one. It was the eagle who was speaking to her.

“I am Ari, the Great Eagle and companion to the Great Wolf of Winter. The White Wizard said that no man shall enter his castle even with the permission of the Great Wolf of the North. But fear not, child. If you wish to save your family, I know how you can. All you have to do is leave them behind and follow me to a cave where no man can enter. But you should know, child, when this journey is done, you will not live.”

The child looked back to see her family huddled together by a dying fire and her decision was made. For she had loved her family so much that she would die for the chance that they may live.

The child followed Ari day after day, and night after night, until finally, after all time seemed to blur together, the child came upon a colossal cave and walked into the mouth praying to the Eoli that she would not anger the Great Wolf, for no man had ever seen the guardian of the North.

“But you are no man,” said the Winter Wolf, laying down on the cave floor, and his head was at her standing height.

The child knelt before the Winter Wolf, and gave praise to the Eoli’s Guardian. She pleaded her case to the Great Wolf.

“Your Excellency,” she began with tears stinging her eyes. “My clan was displaced as many were this cruel winter, and my clan began to make their way to seek shelter to the Winter King. Many of us died on the road, uncles, cousins, women with child and tiny babes! There were only forty-seven of us left by the time we got to the castle. Hungry, cold and weary, my mother cried that she wanted to die! Still, we weren’t permitted shelter we needed. The White Wizard appeared before us, and told us the king would never open his gates. Not even under your command! He sentenced us to die!”

“A king is a father to his people,” said the wolf. “The Winter King has his reasons but is still a disgrace in the eyes of the Eoli. He can be redeemed if he makes the right decision, but I promise you that your family shall live.”

Out from the bowels of the cave came an Alfarsidhe woman came holding a golden staff with a candle of pearl lighting the darkened cave with a queer blue flickering flame. It is said that even in her aria mail dress and a sword at her hip the Alfarsidhe was the most beautiful woman of man or Elfkind. Her name was Vara and she was the protector of the cave and the link between the world of the fey and the world of men.

“Stare into the flame, child,”

No one quite knows what the child saw in Vara’s magic flame, the child was struck by an inspiration and set out to save her family.

The twelve family members were know camped outside, the child’s mother wept day and night and was near death. The father too mourned the loss of his thirteen-year-old child, but he had to hold hope for his last living child, while the rest of the men attempted to build siege weapons out of the few materials they were able to gather. All hope should have been abandoned, but the twelve had lived through seven days and had regained the will to live.

One of the men looked up and he saw mailed figures march over the horizon on the backs of pale horses that seemed to float over the deep snow and make their way without problem to the frozen moat. The pale horses parted and he saw a beautiful woman with snowy skin and black hair wearing a chainmail dress with a golden staff walk through to the end of the moat. “Unbar the gates or we shall take your castle by force, false king!” she cried.

Again appeared the white wizard, angered by the Alfarsidhe he said again: “You shall not enter. These doors shall open for no man, even under the command of the Winter Wolf himself no man shall enter.”

“You shall regret your unkindness to your people!’”Vara screamed. “The Guardian will not tolerate this!”

That was when through the rolling grey mists emerged a great white beast, twice the size of a horse, more beautiful and majestic than any creature of this world with a mailed knight on his back. “I am the White Wolf, Guardian of the North, and I command that you unbar your doors and care for the people you vowed to protect!”

“Not even you, Great Wolf, can hold sway here. The Winter King shall permit none to pass.”

To which the Winter Wolf replied: “Then you shall fall!”

A great battle broke out then, but the king’s men were half starved for the winter was long and they barely had the strength to lift their swords. The Great Wolf jumped the wide moat and landed mere inches before the white wizard snarling fiercely and the knight lifted drew his sword.

“No man shall pass!” said the wizard knocking the knight off the Great Wolf’s back.

The knight’s helm was knocked off, and it was then the wizard noticed that the black knight was a ten-year-old girl. She ran him threw the stomach as she hissed “But we are not men.”

The castle was stormed, and the Alfarsidhe as well as the child’s family were now able to enter. They made their way to the Winter King’s chambers, the child expected to see a fat man who reserved all rations for himself, but instead she found the old bearded man withering away as the rest of his men. His wife the queen seemed to be no more than a skeleton herself, but on the bed was a child, perhaps three-years-old, her face was grey and each breath she made was a shaky wheeze. It became obvious that the King was hording the few rations they had to keep his sick daughter fed.

“Your child will live,” said Vara sitting down next to the child.

“But you are no longer Winter King.” said the Great Wolf. “A king must make sacrifices for the realm no matter how painful. The Norns will stay their hand and keep your daughter in this world, but I shall only bargain with them to save your daughter if you give up your crown. For the North cannot afford a selfish king.”

The king gave up his crown, and passed it on to the selfless child, who soon became the Warrior Queen. The Norns spared the little girl on the agreement that on the child’s flowering she would leave the mortal world and join the female warrior Alfarsidhe and in defending the North among the Valkyrie.

The Warrior Queen fought many battles in reclaiming the land and trying to settle disputes over the scarce resources and found many were displeased with her distributions of the rations in the year-long winter. Peace was kept in her immediate kingdom, elsewhere she had to fight to keep the children still living alive. She fought with great valour and always rode out with her warriors as a ruler must walk with their subjects.

The next Strawberry Moon the winter was finally beginning to thaw, the Warrior Queen was cut down at fourteen-years-old without heirs. Upon dying the Warrior Queen saw Vara come to her with a lantern in her hand, leading her from the battle field. “Selfless and fierce you shall ride with the Valkyrie bands until the North’s sons are no longer at war. A Valkyrie is selfless and practical, peace-loving but with the heart of the warrior. We are mothers to all mortals of this world and unbiased for we are not men.”

Day Four of Fellowship of Fantasy Writers Blog Tour

Gentle readers,
Today is the fourth day of the Fellowship of Fantasy Blog Tour, hosted on my primary website. Featured today is Jean Lauzier. You can read any new post or page of mine by clicking on the "Tales from the Mists" link in the margin --->

Enter the mystical realm of faeries, dragons and wizards!

Middlegrade Spotlight: E1 The Hidden World

Here I review one of my all time favourite middle grade novels!

Link to my channel is in the margin if you wish to subscribe or see more. Feel free to leave requests of fantasy novels in the comments!

YASpotlightE1Within

Hey everyone. Here is the first episode of my YA Spotlight, reviewing local author Clare C. Marshall's book Within.

About This Channel, (the audible edition)

I worked out my audio issues! Booktubing is ago!

Fellowship of Fantasy Blog Tour

Hey all!

Maeve LaFey here with a special Announcement. I am taking part of a blog tour with many amazing authors. The first of which will be published tomorrow.

Check out my primary website for more details!

http://talesfromthemists.wordpress.com/fellowship-of-fantasy-writers/

A watercolour of mine. Recently finished.

Middlegrade Spotlight: E1 The Hidden World

 My own youtube channel...I will be investing in batteries and a tripod for my camera...

NaNoWriMo Win and Synopsis Submission!

 A little late posting this to my blogs, but last month I participated in NaNoWriMo and won! It took a lot of courage perseverance and way too much caffeine, but I did it! And Now "Camelot Shall Fall" is now in the running for the NaNoWrimo Winner's Synopsis contest on Medium!

https://medium.com/@MaeveLafay/nanowrimo-synopsis-camelot-shall-fall-f6bd7af80cd1

The Two Pages podcast - #2 - Two Pages of Celebrations

If you would like to listen to my story and everyone else's on the Two Pages Podcast check out this video. All of the story's are wonderful, though word of caution the last one, though amazing, is not work safe.

Festival of Dragonstar

Snows piled up outside as Nya watched out the window, curled up in a chair by the hearth of the one story stone cabin. Aeglosson yawned from the windowsill, his white wings and long neck still folded around him, the baby ice dragon absorbing the cold coming through the glass.

Nya wondered where Sevren was, the lighting of the tree would be soon, if the snows let up, at least. She hoped that he was alright and stood to look out the window once more gently pat Aeglosson's tiny head. Aeglosson chirped happily as she rubbed his snout, seemingly unaware of Sevren's arduous journey. He should have been back by now, but now silhouette moved through the blowing snows. Deep winter could be brutal, but the appearance of the red dragonstar tonight would prove the end of the dark and frozen nights of deep winter. Their feast this year was to be inside the keep that lay just outside the grouping of stone cottages, but Nya had decorated the inside of the cottage and prepared a pot of soup over the fire knowing that the weather was not likely to let up.

 A cold gust of wind shook the roof of the cottage and the howling grew louder making Nya wonder about the beams supporting the roof. Aeglosson would have no problem if they were to lose their roof, the ice dragon could take to the sky and fly through the thickest blizzard without losing his sense of direction, but Nya would probably die of the cold, and Aeglosson was not quite old enough to fend for himself.

The thought brought concern back to the forefront of her mind for Sevren. He had set out in the hour of daylight they had, and had been out no for hours in the bitter cold with no food or hope of producing heat, a fire would not stay lit in the blizzard. She gathered her cloak about her shoulders and waved her hand over the ornate head of her white staff casting a blue silver wisp of light within the hollow head. She fastened her thick blue cloak around her shoulders and wrapped  a woolen scarf around her neck.

"I'll return soon," she spoke to the dragon scratching behind his ears.

Nya set out into the snows feeling the ice and snowflakes blast against her freezing her exposed hands and what unfortunate flesh lay exposed on her face. She found that even with the magic faerie light that it was hard to see past the deep darkness and swirling snows.  The cold bit at her skin as the wind cut through her bone, nearly knocking her back several times. She didn't know how long she was out before she was forced to turn back, the cold was too  brutal, and she might have been lost had she pressed on and died in the cold.

She huffed and heaved fighting her way in the wind and darkness, her silver blue wisp shining as a beacon in the blinding dark. If she could find her way back to their cottage she could save her numb extremeties that barely tingled with feeling. She fancied that beneath her mittens her fingers had turned blue and purple. She had nearly had given up on her journey to rediscover their cottage when she found a corner of the stone foundation in the light of her staff.  Nya felt along the walls rounding the corner and knocked along the surfaces listening for the sound of wood over the howling wind. She found the door by the pale light  and pushed through the entrance.

Bursting through the door Nya fell onto the wooden floor the wind pushing her inwards. She scrambled upwards and shut the door, blocking the cruel cold from entering further into the one room cottage. There was a happy chirp from directly beside her and Aeglosson climbed up onto her shoulders rubbing his muzzle happily against her cheek. Nya shivered the icy scales chilling her further. Sensing this, Aeglosson flew away back to the window. Nya wiped the stubborn flakes from her eyelashes and moved toward the fire when she found him sitting by the fire in the arm chair reading the same book Nya had been so engrossed in earlier in the night.

"Sevren?" she choked throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank the gods, I thought you were dead!"

Sevren rose from the chair and returned the hug and pointed past her. Nya turned to see an old man clad in a green robe with a crown of holly holding a golden staff stroking his long white beard. "I bid you holiday tidings." said the old man.

"This is Mieanthriel and he saw me into his home when the dusk set in," Sevren said  with a smile. "Once I was warmed and fed he brought me here."

Nya sat herself by the fire allowing feeling to return to her limbs listening to the crackling as she cast a quick spell to dry off the melted snow. Aeglosson flew back to Nya coiling around her shoulders happy to be near her once again. Sevren and Nya gathered around Mieanthriel placed a hand on either of their shoulders and there was a quick pop.

Nya looked around and found herself in a great hall filled with people, men women and children feasting amidst beautiful musical. The hall had been decked with wreaths of holly and various pines, a man sat at the head table bearing a golden circlet holding up a chalice of silver. Everyone stopped speaking and gave the lord their undivided attention. Mieanthriel walked slowly up to him and the two men embraced.

"Welcome to the Dragonstar Festival!" the lord called. "The wizard Mieanthril has come to light our tree, but unfortunately the--"

"Look!" a child cried pointing as the clock chimed midnight. "The snow's stopped!"

Many crowded to the windows looking amazed at the sudden ceasing of snow, and above the tree shone a bright red star gleaming in the black sky. The crowd was filed out of the great hall and into a courtyard, each person grabbing a single candle on a golden saucer. Nya watched in amazement as everyone, man, woman and child, lord, lady and peasant formed three united rings around the towering wayward pine and began to sang the familiar old carol. The bright red star shone brighter and brighter as the bright red waned in intensity and colour until it shone the same bright silver of Aeglosson's wings. The baby dragon watched from around Nya's neck watched with intense wonder, chirping at the falling star as if it were a dear friend.

Mieanthril spoke loudly in an Ancient Tongue that Nya could not understand over the carolers and sprites flew around the tree, spiraling around it casting orbs of faerie light in blues, greens, silvers, golds and reds emitting warmth in the cold, cold night. The singing from men, elves and other unseen fairies heralded in the falling of the Dragonstar and the first morning dawning in over four moons.

Walking back to the small cottage they had rented for the festival during the high noon had been the greatest gift Nya had ever received for she had forgotten what the sun on her skin felt like.

                                 

Song of Nya

A woman floated among the aged rowans, floating between the with the thick mists trailing behind her.  She emerged from the leafy bower concealing her revealing the most beautiful woman Nya had ever seen. The tall slender woman was robed in elegant white with long rowanberry hair tailing past her knees. She held an oaken staff adorned with ivy and white flowers, staring at Nya and Sevren with emerald eyes. There Nya and Sevren beheld the fairy queen, alone in the starlit meadow with only mists to hear them.

Aeglosson let out a cry and curled up around Nya's shoulders. His cold flesh sent a chill down her spine, but she shushed and comforted the baby dragon anyway. Sevren bowed immediately to one knee and pulled her down with him. "It is an honour, my queen."

"Rise," the fairy woman said to them. "Why have you summoned me?"

Sevren and Nya looked at each other briefly then turned back to the fairy queen, her green eyes burning holes into them. Summoning the faerie queen had been Nya's idea. As terrifying as she was said to be, Nya took her best friend and dragon with a silver bowl and filled it with water from a fairy pool during the twilight and did the unthinkable…Nya spoke the fairy queen's name.

"Speak!" the queen demanded. "I am thousands of years old, but I do not endure all with patience. I have much to tend to, why have you summoned me."

Nya choked out a couple syllables before she could finish. "I was told you can undo even the strongest enchantments."

The fairy queen sighed and lightly touched Aeglosson's muzzle. "You want your memories back."

Nya jumped back surprised she knew. Many claimed some trauma was to blame for her missing years, others agree it was an enchantment, and Sevren insisted it was simply a blow to the head until the Blue Wizard told her that she had been a victim of great magic. The fairy queen had not known her from a moment…unless…

"I did not see you before this." The fairy queen snapped. "I don't need great magical powers or telepathy to know you were thinking that. It would be easier for you if did not ask how I know what I do."

"Great fairy queen," Nya shook but powered her way through the fear. "Will you grant me my memories?"

"No."

"What?" she cried grabbing the fairy queen's arm before thinking. "You have to…"

"I have to do nothing." she replied coolly shaking off her hand. "But your memories will be the last thing you worry about if you lay a hand on me again."

Nya recoiled before falling to her knees. "Please. I need my memories…I…It's not just for me."

"I know your concerns," she said simply. "Before you rose again you saw something of great importance. You believe somewhere in your lost memories lie the answer to all your worries. But the amulet of Amnell is better lost than found. Heed my warning, Nya. Your true past, name and childhood are best lost if it prevents the amulet of Amnell finding another pawn."

"The kingdom will fall without the amulets power…" she choked.

"Then it shall."

The mists rose once again and engulfed the gentle form of the fairy queen and once they parted she was gone. 

Two Pages of Halloween/Woman in WhiteTh

I had intended to write a highfantasy halloween story for you. But I didn't :(. To make up for it, here are several stories from some very talented story tellers. 



And here's one I wrote for you to read if you like ghost stories.

The Woman in White

The house was old. I knew that, but it was everything I could have wanted. It was a small cottage surrounded by trees, I felt as if I were deep in the forest, although I was only in a small patch of trees on top of a cliff, below I could the sound of the waves. It was perfect.

My first night at the place I thought a heard crying outside my window. Shivering, I got up to pear out my window, but there was only darkness and the trees beyond. Thinking it was only the cries of the wind on the water I went back to sleep. The next night I heard the same cry, and looked out the window to see a woman with long black hair in a white dress standing amidst the trees. She stood there, so still in the pale moonlight, head pointed in my direction. I couldn't make out her features, but she turned away from me and vanished into the trees. I took to my feet and went to follow the woman in white, throwing my robe on and grabbing a flashlight to head outside. But when I reached her the woods, and followed the trail to the end of the cliff, she was gone.A chill ran down my spine and I went back into my home and tried to sleep, curling up in the covers praying it was just my imagination.On the third night I heard the crying I saw her. Once again, out my window, but this time, the woman in white was walking toward my window slowly with her hand reaching out.I stared at her and turned to leave the house once more. I found her standing beside the window from the outside. She turned to look at me from the porch, I still could not make out her features as her hair was swept in front of her face. She turned away and again began to walk into the woods, crying. I followed her. I actually managed to keep an eye on her through the trail, following the barefoot woman again to the end of the cliff."Stop!" I cried, but the weeping lady spread her arms and threw herself over the edge. I ran to the edge of the cliff and looked down. I did not see her falling nor remains strewn among the jagged rocky shore. All I saw were the moving waters below.
I did not sleep that night. I waited in the living room hidden in under my blankets with all of my lights on. I waited till morning in a fetal position and as soon the sun was up.With the clothes on my back I left the house, running as fast out the door as feet could carry me. Once I was out the door I saw the woman in white, walking slowly toward me with her hand reach out toward me. She was no longer weeping.I stood staring at her until she reached me, standing only a foot away from me and her hand nearly at my neck, when she suddenly vanished again.I left the cottage that day and to this day have never returned to my dream home, not even to gather my things, because when I tried I saw her reflection staring at me in the window.

Crystals

Bodies laid strewn across the streets as they passed through the small town. Some were still alive, reaching out a hand while rasping a plea for assistance. The sight of the blood soaked land strewn with corpses sent a shiver down Nya's spine as she drew closer to Sevren.
Nya was not prepared for the sight they came upon in the village square. Piles of bodies were heaped in the snow, their frost covered hands reaching outwards for any help. Any cries they had made would have only been heard by the wind and falling snows.



"What happened here?"
Severn surveyed the street, and saw no smoke came from the snow covered roof tops. Normally by this time of year every hearth was lit, from Winterhaven to the strath of Eladamear. Nya joined in the scanning of the grey sky for plumes of smoke, but the chimneys were silent as the cold, dead streets. Only the cries of the damned and the wind mourning them could be heard as they walked through out the village.

Men, women, and even children laid dead in the streets, their skin frosted over white with bright red droplets of blood that had spurt from their mouths. Not a soul seemed to be spared.

"Nya, over here!" Severn called from the fountain.

Nya walked over to the fountain craning her neck over the ledge to see what his was pointing at. Lining the base of the fountain, barely visible in the weak sunlight, were thousands of clear, tiny crystals, cracked open. "I think this what killed them."

Blog Details

I keep several blogs and have recently found that each is a repeat up to a point of my primary website Talesfromthemists.

So here’s a break down of what the blogs/pages are:

talesfromthemists.wordpress.com 

Home of “Camelot Shall Fall”, novel excerpts, faerie stories and myths and monthly short stories, or updates for those projects.

thestafftheswordandthepen.blogspot.com (here)

Home of traditional high fantasy short stories (reminiscent of Tolkien...sort of) and all stories featuring Nya, Sevren and Aeglossion

embarkingonhighfantasy.wordpress.com is a site that will soon be featuring reviews on books I have read, and other such things.

weavingtalesofthefantastic.tumblr.com is a place for original short stories that do not fit in any of these sites.

Hatchling

The creature shrank beneath the dead black shrubs, crying and burying itself in the snow. Nya bent over whispering softly to it. "Come on, it's alright."

She heard light footsteps crunching the freshly fallen snow and turned to see her friend trudging through the snows, clutching his cloak around his body as the wind tossed his messy black hair. 

"What are you doing?" Sevren asked kneeling down beside her placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Hush you!" Nya hissed. "I've found a hatchling. You'll frighten him off."

At this Sevren jumped back and unsheathed his sword. "I suspect his mother's close by then. We should leave."

Nya rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh as she looked back to his scarf-covered face. "Dragons hatch their eggs in caves, eejit. If his mother were still alive she wouldn't have let him get this far."

The tiny dragon let out another cry, his breath formed a thin white frost on the black brambles. Nya should have known! The hatchling was an ice dragon! He was pure white with ice blue eyes, and lived this far north. Nya's hatchling was the first ice dragon to be seen in two thousand years.

"How long can a cold egg go unhatched, Sevren?" Nya asked offering a piece of salted meat from her belt pouch. 

"I...I don't know. No one's really ever written about it."

Slowly, the dragon sniffed the meat and left his safe haven. He ventured out into the open sky, despite his fears, his blue eyes darting around quickly. When Nya dropped the meat into her lap, the dragon quickly followed the food. Once he was satisfied no one was going to harm him, he curled up in her lap, nestling deep into the folds of her skirts.

"I suppose you're going to ask if we can keep him?" Sevren huffed sheathing his sword.

"No, Sevren."

Sevren knelt beside her and gave a relaxed smile. "I'm glad--"

"Because he's already ours. And his name's Aeglossion."