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Five Dragons: TLoP: Chapter 6: The Great Dragon Expert


“Alright. Next patient.” Came a deep, calm voice with a monotonous sound of words as a dwarf entered the room. He looked thoughtfully at the document on his clipboard. The small person walked meanwhile in front of a large creature, who was lying wounded on the wide place. Thick iron chains were placed over his body and kept it fixed.

“Type: Horntail. Function: Mount of the Royal Guard in the Rank Dragoner. Injury: Bite wound on the neck and shoulder. Bleeding: Weak.” The little person took a short breath. “Left wing: Open break. Already bandaged. Other symptoms: Weakness. Crusty eyes. Strong cramps.” The man continued to list. He strolled calmly in front of the large, scaly face, carefully opened one of the lids and looked the dragon closely in the eye. Through his thick, round glasses, his scrutinizing look penetrated the creature. “Pupils dilated. Reflex normal.” He added matter-of-factly and let go of him. The sick dragon snorted weakly and looked briefly to the side where his rider stood, which was accompanied by a booming coo. He nodded once to the creature with his eyes closed and then turned back to the doctor. A blue sash hung from his shoulder across the armor plates of his chain armor. On it was the mark of a straight blade in front of a dragon wing with a single thick bar undernath.

The doctor opened the dragon's mouth and examined the throat. “Mucous membranes ... discolored. Heavy salivation.” He paused and took a few breaths through his nose. “Sulfur note? Unavailable. Strange. Atypical.” He turned thoughtfully, holding his hand over his mouth. He walked to the rider and looked at him without a reaction on the face. “Cause of injury?” He asked very clearly.

“We were on a patrol flight when we ...” The doctor held up an open hand. “No story. Attacker? Appearance? Type?” He added impatiently. The rider looked at him out of place, but quickly recovered. “A Farram-Wolf.” He replied to the monotonous question. “An alpha, judging by the size.” “Details?” Asked the doctor dryly. “Red fur, yellow eyes and foam at the mouth.” Said the soldier.

The expert held a thoughtful hand over his mouth. “Infected bite.” It came from him as he raised his eyebrows, which appeared behind the round glasses. “Infection from bite wound.” He muttered to himself as he hurriedly walked to one of the long shelves and started to search with his finger outstretched. “Spread through the bloodstream. Consequences: Weakness. Cramps.” The uniformed rider went to the dragon and held a comforting hand on his forehead as he watched the doctor search. A weak cooing could be heard from the Horntail when he felt his companion's hand.

The bearded man opened one of the glass urns and reached in to it with great precision. With a raised brow and a gray lump in his hand, he went back to his patient. The rider looked at him and this dark something very skeptically.

While the doctor approached the dragon with this little something, three other strong men come along, who positioned themselves around the creature at the holders of the chains. “Fights infection. healing of wound and fracture.” Said the doctor, as his ers tightened the chains that were placed over the dragon. The creature let there out a weak snort.

Around the berth, the chains were anchored to the floor with thick metal rings. The expert looked at the rider seriously. “Stand back.” He said. A little hesitant, he took his hand from the dragon's forehead and make a few steps back. One of the helpers handed the doctor a wide leather strap and then opened the mouth of the kite. The doctor looked at his assistant and nodded to him without a word. He threw the lump into the horntail's mouth, and the helper squeezed the kite's jaw tightly. At the same time, the doctor slipped the strap around the dragon's snout and pulled it together in a skillful movement. Then he immediately took a big step back.

Just at this moment, the dragon's eyes widened in shock and he strained himself hard against the strong, bitter taste on his tongue. He pushed himself hard against the heavy chains, which the helpers where holding with force, but these did not give way. The strap also prevented him from spitting out the lump again, so he had to swallow it badly. The rider on the side also bucked slightly and twitched unintentionally. He went to his dragon, but was held back by one of the helpers.

After a few moments the shock of the horntail was over and he collapsed exhausted. The soldier watched the spectacle without losing a word and exhaled vigorously. He quickly walked up to his dragon and held a hand on his flank. He felt the strong heartbeat and noticed how the breathing slowly calmed down. At the same time, the helpers loosened the chains and removed the strap. A deep, long cooing indicated that the dragon was falling asleep. “House 8. Room 4.” Said the doctor to the helpers, who nodded to him silently. With a pulley on the ceiling, they lifted the now sleeping dragon from the berth.

The doctor walked in front of the soldier and eyed him skeptically. “Inform chief of guards.” He said monotonously. “What?” Replied the rider confused. “Mental-Imprint increases outside of approval. I will inform chief of guards.” The expert replied, checking off a few points on his clipboard. The helpers carefully lowered the kite onto a cart, which they used to pull it out of the treatment room. The rider silently followed the transport group.

After the wagon ed the wide doors, a small group of four came into the room. A young elf woman with long blond hair went ahead. “He's a great genius when it comes to dragons.” She enthused as she entered the room. “But he also knows very much about gryphons.” The doctor stood with his back to the group in front of a low table and frantically wrote down a few lines in his notebook. “Master Barnabas?” interrupted his assistant.

The little man turned and looked into a boy's skeptical face. Roland looked silently at the so highly acclaimed expert. “This dwarf is supposed to be the great dragon expert?” He thought to himself and looked into the bearded journeyman's eyes through the glasses. Barnabas' full size was just a bit over Roland's shoulders. Small glasses with thick, round glasses were enthroned on his broad nose. The thick and long beard covered his face like a hairy helmet. And yet he exuded an unexpectedly charming aura. “These are ...” “Interesting.” Clara was interrupted by her master. “Indeed.” It came from Barnabas again when he noticed Roland's companion, who was curiously sniffing the berth.

Kyndle stopped, slightly startled, when she noticed the dwarf. The little man started to walk around her. “Hatchling. Female.” Barnabas listed with a calculating wording. “Type: Horntail?” Shortly afterwards he shook his head and put a hand over his mouth. “Tail atypical. Bladewing? No.” Roland looked at Clara, who nodded once with her eyes closed and then smiled confidently. “Dark, orange-red scales. Metallic sheen. Gray coloring on the neck and abdomen.” The expert continued. “Lighter spots on the neck and tail.” Kyndle curiously followed the bearded little person, who was still moving around her. “Color of the scales: unusual. Rare.” Barnabas hurried to a full bookshelf and pulled out a thick tome. He frantically opened the cover of the old book and quickly leafed through it. He stopped on one side and ran a finger down the paper, searching. “Coloring matches. Kyleth. Archon. Guardiandragon of the Five. Killed in the Hunter-Conflict.” Daniel and Clara widened their eyes in amazement and shock at the same time. Only Roland and Kyndle stared into the room in confusion.

Barnabas turned back to the dragoness and circled her again. “Horns and claws black. Dark wing membrane.” The expert thoughtfully held his hands behind his back and looked into the female's eyes. “Pupils: Sapphire blue. Turquoise?” He added dryly. Kyndle nervously sent a slightly helpless look to Roland, which was accompanied by a bright sparkle behind the turquoise breath, but immediately turned back to the dwarf. Barnabas narrowed her eyes slightly and calculatedly followed the action of the female. “Imprint has taken place!” He said in surprise when his thick eyebrows appeared behind the glasses. “Not possible! Hatchling!” He added, shaking his head.

“Imprint?” Roland intervened in confusion. The expert frantically turned his gaze to the boy and went up to him. “Binding of two individuals.” He began to explain with a raised index finger. “Those affected share thoughts, feelings, pain, memories. Effect varies. Can increase. Imprint.” Roland swallowed hard at the unusual explanation. The monotone saying of the dwarf made him appear almost lifeless, paired with the blank looks from the glasses. The boy thoughtfully rubbed his forehead with his right hand and looked at his companion. Barnabas's eyebrows protruded from behind the glasses again. “Hmm.” The expert suddenly said, turning away from the boy. He looked at the little man in confusion as he walked silently to his table and hectically wrote down a few lines.

Barnabas sat up and looked seriously at the dragoness. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small key. With this he opened a drawer of the lower table, from which he took out a piece of paper that was folded several times. Then he turned back to Kyndle. The dwarf opened the note and looked at the words on it. “Var, dot koros dor Kyleth. Murrum durnach dot sintha dor lat drokos gardat!” He said aloud and watched the female closely.

Everyone stared at the dwarf as he said these strange words. Kyndle, in particular, looked at the expert with a puzzled expression. But suddenly her attention was drawn to Roland. The back of his right hand began to glow and a blinding light shone from the burned-in sign. Roland's hand trembled tightly and he moaned in pain. His arm rose against his will and the mark began to glow dark orange. Everyone took a startled step back from the boy. Only Kyndle hurried to him without hesitation. But before she reached him, the appearance of a large dragon head manifested in the light. Kyleth's symbol shimmered on the forehead of the image above the gleaming eyes. A wide roar echoed through the room. “Fellow!” Was heard in the loud echo before the portrait dissolved and left a boy kneeling exhausted on the floor.

Roland stared at Kyndle, who immediately stood next to him and put her wing protectively around him. She pressed her forehead worriedly against his and looked into his eyes with a low cooing. Around her dilated pupils there was a thin veil of turquoise, in which a bright sparkle stood out. “What was that?” He asked her quietly. Kyndle closed her eyes and leaned against Roland cooing. The boy hugged his dragoness and held her close. A soft “Chirp” she added to it. Barnabas put the paper back in the drawer. His beard rose slightly as he smiled and he walked towards the boy and the dragoness. Then he bowed to the two. “Fellow of Kyleth. Welcome.”

Everyone looked at the little bowed man in astonishment. Clara and Daniel gave each other a very surprised look, then did the same to Barnabas and also lowered their foreheads. Roland and Kyndle looked around perplexed. The female gave a quiet “Meep” in confusion and looked at the dwarf skeptically. There was a somewhat oppressive moment. Then the people slowly straightened up again.

“Where did you get this sign?” Clara Roland asked with a skeptical look. He winced at her sharp question and looked a little lost at his companion. Kyndle gave him a comforting look with half-closed eyes and made a slightly nodding gesture with her head. “So, I ...” “Not here.” Barnabas interposed. “Study room.” He said firmly and led the group out of the room.

Arrived in said room, everyone sat around the lower table in the center. Roland sat on the chair and thoughtfully lowered his eyes. Kyndle placed herself in front of him and looked up at him. “Now fellow. Tell us.” Barnabas asked him. The boy started slightly from his thoughts. The dwarf's previously monotonous voice now sounded curious and slightly tense. The female put her head on Roland's thigh and began to purr softly as she made eye . The boy looked into her wet blue eyes and put a hand on her forehead. A soothing “Churr” was the answer. He smiled at the dragoness when he saw the faint sparkle in her eyes and then inhaled heavily before lifting his head.

“It was the night four days earlier. My mother woke me up and said that we had to leave as soon as possible. There wasn't even time to pack anything as fast as we were on the way to Parem.” He began hesitantly. “But someone seemed to be following us. We were on the road when …” Everyone listened attentively to the boy's story.

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In the Iron Maiden, Timmy sat at the counter and spoke to the owner, who listened carefully to his words.

“And you think it's this Roland?” Tamara asked skeptically. Two strangers, wrapped in brown coats, who were also at the counter, raised their heads. “Shhht!” Timmy hissed at the woman, holding a finger to his mouth. “Not everyone here needs to know.” Tamara raised both hands. “Alright, alright.” She explained. “But don't think now, I would just forget everything else just because you are talking about the prophecy here.” Tim looked at the woman demanding and waved his hands. “And what do you think I should do? Huh?” He tilted his head and rolled his eyes. “Should I ask Emmet if his portal is still working? I can't turn back time!” He complained slightly.

Tamara looked at him skeptically. “For a guy who has nothing to do with dragons, you're always well informed about this.” “What do you mean with that?” He countered her comment. But the she didn't go into it and let her gaze move to the entrance, where suddenly a familiar face entered. Tamara immediately made her way to the new guest, holding her index finger in Tim's face. “This topic is not yet off the table!” She said threateningly to him and then turned away from him. One of the strangers at the counter sat down next to Timmy, leaning his wand against the bar. The look of the faceless shadow of the hood shifted to the thin man. “Prophecy of the Five, huh?” Asked the curious voice of the coat wearer. “Take care of your own shit.” Tim said determinedly and reached for his drink.

“Hello Mardon.” The landlady said with a friendly smile as she walked up to the uniformed man. This took the woman in his arms and put a hand on her cheek while he gave her a loving kiss. The lady held his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes after the nice greeting. “What are you doing here?” She wanted to know. “I'm on the road again to collect shady strangers.” He said with a wink. The woman put on a slightly disappointed face and stroked his breastplate, looked at the badge on the blue ribbon. It was a straight blade with a dragon wing in the background ant three horizontal bars underneath. “Oh, and I thought you came only for me.” Mardon gently brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled at her, looking into her eyes. “I would have come here even without a command to get my kiss.” He replied.

Mardon's gaze wandered around the tavern, but stopped at the bar on a thinner man with a shoulder-length hairstyle. Shortly afterwards he let go of his girlfriend. “What does he want here?” He asked with a sharp tone. “It’s alright.” She appeased him, holding him by the arm. “He is here today as a guest and is waiting for his group.” She gestured to the two figures sitting next to Tim at the bar. “I'd rather worry about the two of them.” “Why?” Asked Mardon matter-of-factly. “Let's call it female intuition.” Said the landlady, looking at the two unknowns. “I just have a strange feeling about them.” He stroked with a bent finger over the nose of the woman and looked at her calmly. “Good, I will take a look around.” He added, quietly retreating among the guests.

The landlady returned cheerfully behind the bar, where Timmy greeted her with a big grin. “And I thought, that with the 'Iron Maiden' is really true?” He said with a smile. Tamara maliciously frowned at his stare. “Both of us can also go outside.” She pointed with one hand to the exit and then tapped the handle of the mace, which was attached to her belt, a few times. “And then I'll show you how iron I can be!” She threatened him. Tim raised his hands submissively and grimaced slightly. “No need, thanks.”

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“Stack boxes! Stack boxes!” Harrison bleated loudly in the quiet storage room. “I've already apologized! And now I have to lug all the stupid boxes here!” He continued furiously. “But do you know what, you square assholes?” Noisily he dropped the box in his hands on the floor, which spread out the potatoes in it across the floor. “Without me! I'm done here!“ He swore and climbed out of the small window into the narrow alley behind the tavern. There he crumbled behind some barrels where there was a warm blanket. He snuggled himself into the thick fabric and leaned against the wall. “Shit wallet and shit Henri too!” He muttered angrily before nodding off.

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Meanwhile in Ironwing ...

Catherine stood in front of the wide window of her study and looked thoughtfully at the garden of the property. “I am grateful to you, Gustav” She said calmly and turned to the second person in the room. “For your help.” “I was just doing my duty, my Lady.” He replied, tilting his forehead slightly forward. The woman sat in the chair behind the wide desk and looked earnestly at Gustav. “But tell me, what did Claire tell you about the reason for this?” She asked decisively.

Gustav lowered his face slightly and breathed in calmly. Koris stood behind him and held his sword at hand. “Lady Claire spoke of a threat that is approaching the family. Roland was kept hidden from this, but those agents found him and attacked the house in Kams. We managed to escape the first wave, but we weren't quick enough. They had caught up with us before the road. You already know the rest.”

Catherine held her hands in front of her face and exhaled with her eyes closed. “Were there survivors in Kams?” In the negative, Gustav slowly waved his face. “I don’t know my Lady. Some were killed and a part of the house was burnig as we left the place.” The woman opened her eyes and lowered her hands to the table surface, looking at Gustav with calculation. “Then you're one of the loose ends of this chapter.” She said gravely, nodding once to Koris, whereupon the captain drew his blade.

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At the dragon farm, Roland talked extensively about his latest adventure.

“... then the gate was open and I could go outside with Kyndle. Shortly afterwards we met my aunt and her soldiers.” With this sentence, he exhaled with relief and ended his story. He closed his eyes briefly and stroked his dragoness thoughtfully between the black horns. The female had still placed her head on his thigh, where she purred softly.

“Interesting.” Barnabas murmured into his thick beard and hurriedly wrote down a few lines on a piece of paper. “But I thought Kyleth's dragon cult was smashed by the hunters.” Clara started hesitantly. “It was said that all of the followers were killed after they killed the guardiandragoness. Their places of worship were also razed to the ground, as well as all signs of their existence.”

“Correction.” Barnabas said dryly, rising from his seat. “Living evidence. Here in front of us. Annihilation: Incomplete. Fellow here.” He added, looking mindlessly through his glasses at the group. “By the five!” Daniel said in surprise. His eyes widened in astonishment and he thoughtfully held his hands over his mouth. “The fellow of Kyleth. I can’t believe it.”

“Paths of the Five. Inscrutable.” Barnabas remarked soberly. “Fact: Roland one of the Fellows. Confidentiality? Attached.” He added. “Why should we keep that a secret?” asked Clara in surprise. “The Priests of the Five certainly want to know that.” The dragon expert held up a hand. “Necessary.” He emphasized and straightened his glasses. “Optimal time. Not now!” “But you can't just hide such important information?” Clara intervened again. “Not relevant!” Barnabas replied, shaking his head.

Roland closed his eyes and reflected on what he had said a few moments ago. The painful memory of his mother's death was now refreshed. A lonely tear searched the way through his closed eyelid. Kyndle pressed her nose against his hand with slight pressure. He felt his companion's warm breath between his fingers and the gentle vibrations of her soft purr. The newly started discussion faded into the background. He took a deep breath and let it out with a powerful push. Roland got up from his chair and sat down on the floor next to Kyndle. The female nestled her head close to his and put her wing around him. He hugged the dragoness and exhaled in relief as he listened to the pleasant hum of her warm body.

But the voices in the room grew louder as the comforting moment with Kyndle faded away. “Discussion finished!” Said Barnabas angrily. He stubbornly stared at his assistant through the thick glasses. Clara then caught her breath. She had never seen him like this before. “I'm sorry. I will not further doubt your decision.” She said apologetically with her forehead bowed. “Talk to Lady Catherine. I will next.” Barnabas added calmly as he looked at Daniel. The man nodded to him and turned to Roland. “We'd better go home right away. Come on, we'll pick up Timmy and get going.”

Shortly afterwards the small group was in the carriage on the dirt road and moved away from the farm. The sun had already walked most of its way. A faint, reddish glow was noticeable on the horizon.

Roland looked a little lost in thought. “I’m the Fellow of Kyleth?” He thought to himself. He knew some old stories about the Guardians' Fellows, as well as about their disappearance when the Hunter-Wars ended. His thoughtful look fell on the orange-red female. “How did that came like this?” Continued his inner voice. Suddenly he found himself in the captivating look of two dragon eyes. Kyndle gave a soft “Chirp” and a light turquoise hint shimmered in the sapphire blue coloring of her pupils. A bright spark flashes in it. Roland put a hand on her chest, felt the strong beat of her heart and pressed his forehead against hers. His fingers gently ran up and down her breast scales as he looked at her. The dragoness purred softly on it.

The boy was sitting on the back seat of the open carriage. Daniel was in the driver's seat and looked forward thoughtfully. “I disagree with Barnabas on this secrecy.” He began. His words were more plaintive rather than satisfied. “But that's not a decision I have to make. After all, you are the Fellow.” He continued, looking brooding upward.

“I’m a Fellow?” Roland wondered again in his mind. A little hesitantly, he raised his hand from Kyndle's chest and looked at the back of his hand. The fact that he was supposed to be a Fellow from an old prophecy still seemed strange to him. He thoughtfully lowered his eyes and roamed the branded sign, until the orange-red female dragon nudged him. He looked at her slightly sadly. Kyndle sniffed his face gently and brushed her head purring past his chin. Afterwards she licked his cheek lovingly and looked at him with a wet look. The light turquoise breath shimmered briefly in her eyes, shortly afterwards she closed her eyelids and leaned against her companion. Roland put his arm around her and held her lightly as he looked at the purring female. He felt her warmth and the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat. Thinking uncertainly about the accuracy of this Fellow-talk, he reflected on the expert's other words.

The connection that Barnabas referred to as imprint was, in his opinion, undoubtedly there. The boy could feel it again at that moment. He felt as if she had seen every one of his thoughts. Her pulse seemed to be the same with his. Both hearts kept the same pace as if they were one. He heard the almost mesmerizing beat in silence.

“Roland?” Daniel asked backwards, still looking ahead. “Did you even listen to me?” He continued as he turned. “We have to ...” He broke off when he saw the two of them. Roland held his dragoness in his arms and fell asleep with her in the back seat. Daniel smiled at both of them and gave them a quiet nod, then turned back to the front. “It was a long day.” He muttered under his breath. “So now collect Timmy from Tamara and then go home.” He thought as he crossed the great stone gate in the direction of the market district. Slowly the vehicle turned into the street that led to the Iron Maiden.

Shortly after the carriage ed the gate, four dark figures emerged from the shadow of the arch.

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Mardon had sat down in the Iron Maiden at a table not far from the bar. Far enough not to attract attention, but close enough to understand the voices. “I already said, take care of your own shit!” Tim complained loudly, since the two coat carriers didn't let up with their questions. “Since I have a particularly generous day today.” He continued, holding out an index finger to the stranger. “I will gladly repeat it for both of you again.” He took an exaggerated breath. “Take care of your own … HEY!” Tim had to abort his long words because he was grabbed by the arm by one of the strangers.

Mardon looked up curiously and watched the spectacle. Timmy frantically jerked his arm back and forth, freeing himself from the grip. However, he pulled the hood of the stranger back. Two white, cloudy eyes looked at him angrily. The gray eyebrows pulled together in a malicious expression. Tim looked at the angry man, startled. “Not in here!” Tamara scolded and pounded once on the counter with her fist. The two brawlers looked briefly at her. “Clarify that outside!” She emphasized sharply and pointed with one hand towards the exit. “Good idea.” It came from the pale eyes. The man smiled slightly and reached for his staff. Mardon had got up in the meantime and was behind the wizard. “Sorry.” He said to Tamara, smiling, and grabbed the collar of the brown cloak. He pulled the man vigorously by the cloth over his shoulder, which landed with a lot of momentum on a nearby table top, whereupon the wooden plate collapsed under the impact. The stranger held his staff up in front of his face and mumbled vague words to himself. The tip of his weapon began to glow in a purple glow. Before he could finish his sentence, however, a fist with small plates hit his forehead. The wizard ed out on the demolished plate and the glow dimed immediately. The rest of the guests startled at the noise. Some kept their distance, but others fled to the outside. The music broke off too, because the bards were also looking for space.

The second man looked at his comrade lying on the battered table and vigorously attacked Mardon. He pulled out with a clenched fist as he rushed toward him. However, his target skillfully dodged to the side and, after an elegant turn, sank a gauntlet in his opponent's stomach area. Exhaling, the attacker sank to his knees briefly and held on to the aching belly. Mardon took advantage of this short pause: he drew his dagger and held it to the stranger's throat.

“I SAY NOT IN HERE!” Tamara roared in between, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to her. Mardon pulled the second man's hood back. A dark-skinned face appeared. A reddish scar ran across the right eye and nose. There was also a tattoo on the base of the neck. Curiously he pulled the collar more down and the picture of a dragon wing, which was impaled by a straight blade, appeared.

Mardon looked at the man intently. “What does the leftovers of the Hunter-Order want here in Parem?” Tamara's eyes widened in shock. “Hunters? Here?!” It shot through her head. Mardon gave her a serious look, which instantly made the woman's facial expressions go away. Then he turned back to the hunter. This raised his face with a smile. He took a deep breath and spat at the fighter's feet, then grinned at him silently. Mardon just looked at him. “Let me repeat the question.” He said, leaning down to him. Again the muffled sound of a gauntlet hitting a forehead could be heard. The hunter sank to the ground unconscious.

The fighter turned to the bar counter and looked at the landlady behind. “Sorry about the mess.” He apologized with a smile. Tamara just looked at him seriously and shook her head with her arms folded. Timmy sat on his stool all the time and watched the spectacle intently. “What will become of them now?” Tamara asked curiously. “Korban will take care of them as soon as I deliver them there.” Said Mardon tense as he dragged the first of the two strangers out of the tavern. Tamara looked around her partly devastated bar, arms folded. “I wanted to close earlier anyway.” She replied sarcastically.

A barred car stood outside the curb. In front of it was a sleeping dragon. The first of the prisoners was thrown onto the loading area with a thud. The bladewing woke up and looked questioningly at the soldier. A lively “Meep” followed. Mardon smiled briefly at the kite and pointed to the stranger in the car. “Take care of him.” He spoke, turning around. The dragon nodded confidently. “I'll get the second one right away.” Added the fighter and went back to the tavern.

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Roland opened his eyes wearily. Kyndle was still leaning against his side, purring gently to herself. “Where are we?” He asked the driver, closely followed by a long yawn. “We should arrive at Tamara anytime, where Tim wanted to wait for us.” Daniel said.

The car turned around the corner and a tavern was visible between the buildings. Roland looked at the large sign above the entrance, which hung far out into the sidewalk. The drawn woman winked at him. He tilted his head slightly as he read the text on it. “The Iron Maiden.” He muttered to himself. “Yes, that’s the name of the Tavern. Tamara is the owner.” Daniel explained as he drove up to the curb and brought the car to a stop in front of the side street next to the building.

The boy looked at his dragoness. Kyndle was still sleeping peacefully on the car. Roland carefully released himself from the warm embrace and got off the carriage without waking his companion. There was another carriage in front of the entrance, the windows of which were barred. The back door was open and a large dragon was biased. The creature looked curiously at the boy with its yellow-green eyes and sniffed him slightly as he ed him. A light, golden shimmer lay on his light gray scale dress. In addition, the dragon wore a light plate armor with blue ribbons and had a rider’s saddle strapped on his back. On the banner over the chest was a badge in the shape of a straight sword, with a dragon wing in the background. At the side of it, curved letters were embroidered, which resulted in the name Spark.

Roland walked with Daniel to the front door of the tavern, but before he could reach for the handle, it surprisingly opened by itself. A uniformed man stepped out of the shadow of the door frame and put his left hand protectively between the light of the setting sun and his face. The many small plates on his glove sparkled in the bright sunshine. A blue cloak pulled down from the shoulders. A pattern was worked into the silver breastplate, which strongly resembled the head of a dragon. Metal greaves fit into the armor, the shimmering parts of which were stacked like dragon scales. The banner over the chest showed the same mark as was seen on the dragon, only this had three horizontal bars underneath.

He held his right arm back and shortly afterwards he could see why. Roland looked curiously at the brown something the man was pulling out of the bar. He dragged an unconscious man wearing a brown cloak onto the street. He walked silently past the boy and gave him a quick, serious look. Roland looked into the man's piercing green eyes and then shrank back slightly.

“Hey Mardon!” Called a woman standing in the door. The man turned to her. Roland's attention also turned to the stranger. “You forgot this here.” She said, throwing a staff at him. He skillfully caught it with his free hand and continued toward the barred car. Roland looked intently at the staff. “May I've seen that somewhere before?” He thought as he looked at the strange crystal at the tip.

Mardon dragged the ed out to the open car door. Without any apparent effort, he threw his body into the cabin and then closed the door. Roland watched him closely, but when the man came up to him, he had to swallow nervously. He looked at the boy seriously for a moment, but his eyes went to Daniel, who was behind Roland. “It’s about time!” Called a thin man with shoulder-length hair who was just stepping out of the entrance. Mardon let go of the two and went past Timmy back into the bar. Tim walked up to his group with a quick gait. “There might be something going on here today.” He said, slightly indignant and exhaled calmly. He put a hand on Daniel's shoulder and grinned broadly at him. “Can we finally go home now?” He asked with a slight smile. “Or do we still have time for another city tour?”

“By the five! No!” It came from Daniel as if fired from the crossbow and he hurried back to the car, where he was the first to grab the reins. Roland and Tim followed him a little more comfortably.

Once at the vehicle, Roland stopped in front of it. Something was wrong. He had a queasy feeling in the stomach area and something seemed to cut his air off. He looked hesitantly at the carriage. Kyndle was not there. “Kyndle?!” He called in panic to the empty carriage. Then he looked up and down, breathing frantically. “What's wrong?” Daniel asked in surprise.

The boy gave him a helpless look. “Kyndle is gone!”