3

Sometime in the night, I awoke in a cold sweat. I'd been dreaming of a woman with long, brown hair. She had the most beautiful green eyes. Her face reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place who. She appeared to be stirring something, then the scene had switched to a tall mountain peak surrounded by a storm. Lightning flickered, then her eyes caught mine. She looked surprised. Thunder rumbled, and over it I could barely make out the sound of her voice, but not what she said. Then I'd awoken.

It rattled me, which was strange because nothing had really happened. She'd just stood there. Maybe I'd dreamed of someone important. Perhaps I'd read about her in a book sometime. Whatever the reason, I was unable to sleep any more that night, but as it was almost morning, I pulled on the pants and socks from before, and my beautiful new boots, before heading out the door to explore. Perhaps Lance had wanted me to remain, but there was simply too much to see, and I was never one not to question authority. Sorry, Lance.

My footsteps echoed slightly, despite the soft boots on my feet. I suppose stone is just prone to producing echoes. My feet slipped on the stairs going down, but I caught myself quickly and glanced down to see a slick substance on the stair I'd nearly taken a tumble from. The stair in question was spaced between two torches just so it was obscured in shadow, so I couldn't make out what it was. Probably water. I continued on, thinking nothing of it.

With a start, I remembered the dragon. He'd disappeared beneath my bed when I while I was still exploring my room. I shrugged- he would find his way to me if he needed to. The little guy was the closest thing to a friend I had here, but if I couldn't find my way without an escort, I certainly wasn't fit to be wandering about in the first place.

I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, passing level after level of closed doors. The bottom few levels were dedicated to a massive mess hall, and several rooms that upon closer inspection appeared to be classrooms. One was a supply closet filled with cleaning products, mops, and jumpropes of all things.

I marveled that nothing was locked. Perhaps students (soldiers? I still wasn't sure what I was doing here) were meant to be able to brush up on subject matter whenever they wanted, or even pop into the kitchens for a snack late at night. Speaking of, I found my way there next easily enough, drawn by the delicious scent of frying eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, freshly baked bread, fruit, and the clanking of dishes.

The kitchen was the one part of this building busy this early. I watched from the open doorway as people bustled around, everyone with a job to do.

"You lost, hun?" questioned a matronly woman in a blue apron matching my clothes.

"Oh, no, I was just exploring."

Her eyes crinkled almost closed as she smiled. "You must be new. Want a bite?"

I nodded to both, and she gestured for me to follow, ducking trays and dodging chefs carrying towers of pastries. She found her way to an array of bread and fruit, in addition to other finished breakfast items. "Help yourself, just don't leave a mess for me to deal with." She hurried off to handle some other task, but I was far too busy exploring the mountain of food that greeted me. The bread was fluffy, chewy, and perfectly cooked, and I spread some unknown preserve over it. No, not unknown; these were blackberries! A vine grew along the far wall of the servants' quarters back at the castle. I grimaced thinking of it but quickly moved on. Good food has always had a way of cheering me up quickly.

I was just wondering where one goes about finding all this food when a splash of fiery orange entered my peripheral vision. I turned to see Lance conversing with the woman who'd let me in, and wandered over there, munching on some fruit with a bitter, thick skin, but soft, juicy flesh.

Lance noticed me, took one look at the fruit in my hands, and started laughing.

"What?" I asked, unsure of how I'd managed to mess up.

"Hun, you've never eaten oranges before, have you?" the woman, who upon closer inspection was probably the head chef here based on how the others respected her and deferred to her for orders.

I shook my head no, gnawing on a bite of the tough, dry skin. She reached out and wordlessly peeled back the skin, revealing some white substance coating the orange meat within the fruit. "Now try," she insisted.

I took a bite and my eyes widened in surprise. It was much better this way! I'd been worried removing the skin would make a mess, but apparently, that was what was supposed to be done. Lance was still doubled over when I turned back to him, though.

"Rose, you are a strange one," he laughed, although it was meant to be friendly. "When you're done, we should collect your dragon and go find the Elders. They'll decide who you can apprentice to, and I see no reason you can't start today."

I figured these 'Elders' were some authority here, and I was to be an apprentice to someone who'd been here longer so I could learn from them. That made sense to me, so I nodded in return, popped the remaining third of the orange, now fully peeled, in my mouth, and took off for the stairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs, Lance stopped me. "There's something on your shoe," he said, inspecting my footprint. I must have stepped in the puddle again, I figured, glancing down. My footprint was red. Upon closer inspection, I'd stepped in blood.

"Hang on," I said, leading him back down the stairs. The slick spot was still there. It was definitely blood. It almost looked like someone had fallen, or perhaps been pushed down roughly. Lance echoed my thoughts, and he picked up on a few drops some steps lower, as well as a streak that was either from dragging or from my shoe earlier. Whatever had happened here, someone had been injured or perhaps killed, and we had to get to the bottom of it. This day just kept getting more exciting.

Lance went in search of one of his higher-ups, directing a janitor to block off the area but not tamper with it, while I went up again, careful not to step in the puddle yet again on my way to my room.

By the time I go to my floor, people were beginning to emerge from their rooms. They shuffled down the halls and past the puddle on the stairs, which quickly became a key point of gossip in the halls. I somehow found my way to my room, and began the search for my dragon.

He was hiding under the bed last I saw, but when I looked, he wasn't there anymore. Instead, he was laying in the washbasin, curled up tightly. He uncurled himself and langorously slithered down to the floor when he saw me. Overnight, he'd somehow grown to the size of a small dog around, and easily three times as long. Stubby back legs had emerged from his segmented body, and his tail was now tipped with a bulbous shape. I examined the inside of his mouth as he opened it to yawn, and was surprised to see his rows of teeth appeared to be fusing together to form a normal row of teeth, albeit far more ridged and serrated than I was used to seeing. His mouth hooked forward in a sort of 'beak', and the final difference from before was a spike protruding from his back between his wings.

"You're. . . different," I said aloud. He rumbled in the back of his throat. I shrugged. "Still adorable, though." I was being sarcastic, of course, he looked like a fiend from down below, but he still almost seemed to glow with the praise. "Can you. . . understand me?" I asked suddenly. He sneezed, coughing up a spurt of flame that singed the thankfully stone wall. I took that as a maybe not.

Scooping the surprisingly heavy dragon into my arms, I found my way down the many flights of stairs for the second time that morning, and discovered Lance waiting for me.

"I've notified authorities about the blood on the stairs. For now, don't worry about that, though. It's almost time for your meeting with the Elders."

This was the moment I realized just how fast someone with long legs could go. The answer? Considerable faster than me. I was forced to jog at times to keep up with the leggy Lance as he walked along at what seemed to be a normal pace but quite clearly wasn't. Gods curse those darn tall people.

By and by, after far too much run-walking than I felt necessary, we reached a dark tower that was made from some type of quartz if I wasn't mistaken. It almost looked like a wisp of smoke sneaking upward into the brightening blue sky above. The red roof on top was like flame compared to the tower, which managed to be fluid and sharp all at once. Suitably awed, I followed my carrot-haired companion to the second floor, and he eased open the only door on the level.

The Elders were standing in a semi-circle on a small, raised dais. They frowned and folded their hands into their robes, looking very severe. Rows of seats surrounded them, all stone and cushionless. They looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Lance, is this the girl?" one asked. His profound belly overshot his belt by a few inches or more, but he was tanned and his massive arms suggested immense strength.

"Yes, sir," Lance said respectfully.

"So you're looking for a mentor?" another said. It wasn't a question so much as an observation.

"Y-yes, ma'am," I said, taking a note from Lance. I didn't normally get so scared around people but I felt like I was on trial faced by these ten imposing figures. I took comfort in Lance's presence, as well as that of my small draconic companion. No, not so small anymore, I reminded myself.

"Good, good. Well, tell us about yourself." This one was a tall, thin woman with a severe bun and high, angular cheekbones. She was probably the youngest of the three here, but she carried herself impressively and clearly held sway among the others.

"My name's Rose. I found a rock in the woods, and then it hatched and I got this guy," I said, holding up the hefty baby dragon for them to see. Funny, I'd never really thought of him as a baby before.

"We are aware of this from Lance's report. It's impressive that your dragon hatched and grew so quickly, but right now I'm asking to hear about you," the woman said again. "We need an idea of who you are to pair you with a good mentor."

I frowned, thinking. What could they possibly want to know? "Well, I grew up in a castle. I never met my real parents. I like reading." I hoped that was enough, because that was all I was willing to say.

"Yes, you were a servant, correct?" one man asked. I nodded, not wishing to talk about that.

"You say you like reading. Anything else? Hobbies?" The man who had spoken originally asked. I could only assume this configuration was meant for hundreds of people at a time to be sorted, not for merely one.

"I like talking walks," I said hesitantly. That was honestly everything I'd been able to do, so I hoped it satisfied them.

The trio conversed amongst themselves for a time, grouping closer on the small stage. At length, the man who had first spoken announced, "We have come to a decision. You are to be apprenticed to Madame Cynthia. Lance can take you to her."

I thanked them briefly, confused as to why it took three people for a decision like this to be made. On our way, Lance mercifully walked slower, and I was able to question him about the proceedings. He explained that the Elders were in charge of all major decisions around the compound, and that the selection of a mentor for an Apprentice was vital because it could shape what kind of a soldier that Apprentice turned out to be in a few years' time. He also told me about the pecking order in the area; apprentices were nobodies until their second year, when they became Novices. The following year, they stepped out from their mentor's shadow to become Gunners, or trained forces under a Skipper. From there, one could stay a Gunner or some other supporting role in a squadron, or choose to become a Detective and police smaller communities or scout out enemy territories solo. Detectives went on dangerous missions, which was why almost no one chose to be one. They could also be elected by a leaderless crew to become a Skipper, which often happened to First Mates in squadrons when the Skipper died or stepped down.

This was all a bit much for me to take in at once, but Lance promised Cynthia would help to explain as well, and at this point, it really didn't matter too much.

"Okay, I think I've got it," I say. "By the way, which are you?"

"Which what?" he asked, confused by my unclear wording.

"Rank, or level or whatever. Like Gunner, First Mate, Skipper, and whatnot."

"I'm a Detective," he said, "most people find it a bit eventful for them, but it's really the perfect position for me. It takes guts, but I love it."

We walked in companionable silence to the next tower over. I couldn't even guess what stone this one was made of, and didn't want to- my arms were sore from carrying the heavy little dragon. I glanced down to see him dozing happily. At least, I think he was happy. He had what looked like a craggy smile on his toothy, sharp snout.