Agreement!

The path to physical mastery for our young dragon must be approached with care. Start her off by confronting a turtle, rather than a mountain. The mountain's harsh embrace is too unforgiving for a fledgling such as her.

The dragonling I have chosen to raise is different from myself. In my youth, I had no mighty dragon to shelter me, no wing to shield me from the storms of life.

Hence, to build resilience, I thought battering against mountainsides day after day was the most direct form of body training available to me.

But she, nestled under the wing of an adult black dragon, me, faces no such survival pressures. She can afford to grow at her own pace, strengthen her scales slowly.

She need not endure the brutal regimen I once did.

Strength takes time to cultivate. For dragons, time is plentiful.

Not strong enough after a decade? Then train for a century, five centuries, a millennium, even two.

When she finally reemerges into the human world as a formidable dragon, she may not possess the power to bend the world to her will, but she'll certainly be capable of kidnapping a princess, rearing her, and escaping unscathed should the need arise.

Why does that thought seem odd?

Rearing a princess?

I glance over at the young dragon lying nearby.

She's a female. What business does she have raising a princess? Shouldn't she be raising a prince?

Raise a prince?

No, better to stick with the princess narrative.

If she ventured into the human world and chose to nurture a prince, her naivety might lead her to ruin, possibly ensnaring herself in some human ploy.

Better she raise a princess. A princess might deceive her, yes, but only into a deep friendship.

A prince, on the other hand, could betray her in ways far more destructive.

I imagine, one day, fathering a dragonling, a daughter, who ventures forth to claim a handsome human prince.

As they grow closer, perhaps, just perhaps, she might even fall for him.

Bang—

Lance abruptly ended his reverie as the prince in his daydream was slain by his own draconic claw.

"Deceiving her about the prince's fate could lead to such dire ends," he mused, momentarily lost in the grim possibilities.

"Bang, bang, bang! I'll strike the turtle; I'll do it this afternoon!" Lucia, the young dragon, declared with unexpected vigor.

In that instant, Lucia shivered. Lance's golden and red vertical pupils, which usually radiated a serene wisdom, now flickered with a terrifying intensity.

The transformation was startling. Lance, typically as benign as an old man basking in the sunlight, now resembled a menacing butcher.

Was her hesitation really enough to provoke such an intimidating glare? Lucia thought, her heart pounding with fear. "Had he shown such ferocity before, I would've tackled mountains without a second thought, let alone a mere turtle," she lamented inwardly.

Still, Lucia preferred the idea of clashing with a turtle. Despite its solid shell, it surely couldn't match the hardness of her own amethyst dragon scales. Though young and somewhat flawed, she possessed remarkable attributes akin to those of legendary dragons.

Her scales, impervious to ordinary blades, only mythical artifacts posed a real threat. Such weapons could even endanger Lance, whose scales were not as tough as those of a red dragon.

"I trained in the afternoon. Now is the time to relish life and marvel at nature," she reminded herself, trying to shake off the earlier fear.

"Oh, but Lance, what if I accidentally kill the turtle?" she asked hesitantly, her voice tinged with worry.

"I was just about to advise you to be gentle," Lance responded calmly. "Control your strength. If you hit with all your might, you could indeed end its life."

If Lucia managed to overpower the turtle he had cared for, Lance considered the idea of using its shell to craft a dwelling for her, to symbolize her strength, should she possess it.

"And if I do kill the turtle, you won't be angry, will you?" she queried, seeking reassurance.

Lance, who also kept a hellhounds and this very turtle as pets, understood her concern. "The turtle you are to spar with is indeed one I've raised. But worry not; learning your strength is part of growing. I won't hold it against you," he assured her, his tone softening as he guided her through this rite of passage.

If she had slain a turtle, a beloved pet of the malevolent dragon. Despite the dragon's evil nature, he felt a pang of pity for her. Now faced with a dilemma, should he retaliate?

That fateful morning, the dragon struck her with a mighty blow from his scaled fist. The pain was intense, reverberating through her skull like a ringing bell.

Moreover, she wasn't just anyone; she was the princess of the empire. To be struck on the head by the fist of a fearsome dragon, it was not only painful but deeply humiliating.

Future visions of her as empress were tainted by this incident. Could an empress, who had once been assaulted by a dragon, ever truly command respect?

"Empress Lucia of the Faloran Empire, beaten by a dragon, no less! Such an event must never find its way into the annals of Faloran history," she thought bitterly.

The dragon, sensing an opportunity, spoke up, "If you had the strength to end my turtle's life, I shall not only spare you further pain but gift you a splendidly adorned dragonling's nest."

"Document this offer in your journal; it will be a safeguard against future regrets," he added, a sly grin spreading across his scaly face.

Lucia, skeptical but intrigued, took the notebook from the space and presented it to her advisor, Lance.

Words alone hold no weight, but written proof could not be easily dismissed.

Lance chuckled lightly. "To think this dragon was not the brightest. Yet, when her interests are threatened, he knows exactly how to shield them."

Without a moment's delay, Lance took the diary and a quill, recording the dragon's promise in it.

"Hmm? Is this written in dragon script?" Lucia inquired, peering over his shoulder.

"Indeed," Lance confirmed.

The wily dragon had opted for his native script, clearly a ploy to exploit her unfamiliarity with the language.

Determined not to be outsmarted, Lucia resolved to learn dragon script posthaste. She could not afford to be unprepared should the dragon renege on his word.

As she pondered over the diary, holding it reluctantly, she hoped the dragon's words matched his written promise. The stakes were high, not just the dragon's nest, but her dignity and perhaps even her future as a ruler depended on it.

"Would you like some fruit while you study?"

"I would love to enjoy some fruit as I dive into the mysteries of dragon literature."

"Now? In the middle of everything?"

"Yes, now more than ever! I must learn dragon script swiftly to avoid a dark mark on my reign and to prevent the dragon from having any regrets about his promises."

"Very well then."

With a sense of urgency, Lance retrieved the simplified Dragon Literature textbook he had crafted the previous night, designed specifically for beginners. He had made two copies, one for the young dragon and one for his own use, foreseeing the need for mutual understanding.

"Dragon script is one of the most ancient scripts known, preserved through ages without alteration, unlike the scripts of Elves, Orcs, and Dwarves which have evolved over time," Lance explained as he opened the textbook to the first page.

"Lance, what are these symbols?" Lucia inquired, pointing to a series of intricate runes.

"These are the foundational letters of dragon script. Master these pronunciations first, and the rest will follow more smoothly. Let's start: 'a', 'o', 'e'."

Lucia repeated after him, "Ah, nest, hungry." Her voice carried a mix of concentration and amusement.

"Excellent! Now, 'i', 'w', 'u'."

She continued, "b, p, m, f."

"F."

"Recite these as if they were a mantra," Lance encouraged.

"Recite the mantra," she echoed, a hint of pride in her voice. The runes weren't as challenging as she had anticipated.

Teaching was proving more arduous than Lance had expected, particularly given their pupil's royal status and the stakes at hand.

"Let's carve a representation of a mighty dragon this afternoon, to visually reinforce the lesson and illustrate the meaning behind these characters," he proposed, thinking it might aid her understanding.

After an hour of diligent study, Lance fetched a watermelon from their provisions to soothe his parched throat.

He also handed some walnuts and a pair of apples to the young dragon. "Eating walnuts is thought to boost intelligence; it might help with your studies," he joked lightly, watching the dragon nibble cautiously.

Lucia's learning was tentative, her focus wavering slightly, but her determination was clear. Lance thought to himself, "She may need a gentle hand in the beginning, but she's making progress. Just remember, go easy on the turtle this afternoon, no need to provoke the dragon into retaliation."