Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Chapter 77: The Mechanic's Warning



Chapter 77: The Mechanic's Warning

Empress Sundenelle kos Lindenmorg sighs as she leans back in her office chair, having just finished reviewing and signing logistics orders for various parts of the Empire, including military movements west of Fort Twilight. They've ordered a massive amount of supplies. She's not entirely sure where and why the plan changed to such a large invasion, but if they gain ground in the west, then it's possible the Demons gotten weaker. The mysterious otherworlder known as Daniel seems to be a wildcard in the war, having apparently defeated a dragon and a moderately high threat rank drake single-handedly in defense of Fort Peony.

There's a knock at the door, and it cracks open with her guard. “Your Enlightened Grace, the maid Seylena has a message to present to you.” “A message?” asks Sundenelle skeptically.

“Yes, your Grace.”

“Bring her in.” She straightens her posture a bit in her seat, trying to find comfort. The guards opened the double-doors fully and escorted the maid in. She's a bit nervous, and Lady Byleathea, Sundenelle's mother and Lady-in-waiting looks up from the scroll she was finishing reading. 

Seylena curtsies meekly at Sundenelle, and then turns and curtsies to Byleathea. “Your Grace, my Lady.”

“What message do you bring?” asks Sundenelle.

“I was given this scroll, your Grace.”

The Empress cocks her head. “A roll?” Sylena shows the scroll, and she offers it to the guard standing next to her, and he looks to Sundenelle. Sundenelle nods, and the guard takes the message and inspects it. “Magically sealed with a tamper seal, but I'm detecting no rigged spells associated with it, your Grace. Would you like me to open it?”

“Who gave you this scroll?” asks Sundenelle. “And, whose seal is it?”

Sylena answers first, “Your Grace, I was at the market to buy linens, and a boy approached me. I thought he was a pickpocket at first, but instead, he gave me the scroll and said it was given to him by a man who was dying, but that the message contains urgent news about the war with the Citadel.”

Sundenelle stares at her for a long time, and then looks at the guard captain. He replies quietly, “It does seem suspicious, your Grace.”

She nods once, looking to her mother. While Byleathea wasn’t the Empress, but an Empress Consort, she has spent much time in and around the Imperial Court, so she’s familiar with many things. She replies gently, “What was the seal?”

The captain inspects it, and he replies, “I don’t recognize it, myself, I’m afraid.”

“May I?” asks Byleathea, who looks to her own daughter for permission.

Sundenelle thinks for a moment. She’s curious, but she knows she needs to be careful. If it’s a magic scroll, it could be extremely dangerous, and sent by assassins. She still has many enemies in the Empire, not least of which are her family members with weaker claims to the throne and who seemed to relent when she became Empress.

She nods. “Yes. But, you will bisect the letter before opening it and open each half separately.”

“A good call, your Grace,” replies Byleathea warmly, and she accepts the letter from the captain when he hands it to her. She inspects the seal first, saying, “Hmm… This appears to possibly be a shenwulf, but with peculiar proportions… A girl, perhaps? It certainly belongs to none of the shenwulf clans registered with the Imperial Alliance’s Record of Heraldry, which mostly focus on crests with warrior motifs or more basic symbolism.”

Sundenelle nods in agreement, inspecting the seal for a moment as well before handing it back. “Please take the discussed precautions and open the letter, Captain.”

Captain Dryker nods, signalling the other three guards with his hand, and they nod in agreement. He takes the scroll and uses a knife to cut the letter in half near the seal and band. He hands one piece to one of the guards, while the other two prepare barrier spells and their shields to protect Sundenelle and Byleathea. By cutting the letter in half, though, it should disable any potential spells if it’s a magic scroll with an auto-cast function. Because they are impossible to identify for virtually anyone, including the creator, since they can’t be opened without the spell activating, they are extraordinarily unpopular and impractical for most applications. However, assassins have used such scrolls disguised as letters to eliminate important figures many times in the past, in spite of their difficulty to craft. In fact, it can be dangerous just creating them because by being open to create the scroll, the spell could activate.

Once he has cut it in half, Dryker has the guard open the first half, which he does. Dryker then inspects it while keeping the other half away from the open half.

“No magic circles or written enchantments, your Grace. It does appear to be merely a letter.”

Sundenelle nods. “Please check the other half.”

He nods, sliding the seal off, which fades from its current blue color and turns pale grey. The tamper-seal has been activated. Thankfully, nothing else happens, and the guard captain unfurls the second half of the scroll as the guard holding the first holds his half in a loose curl. As with cutting it in half, keeping the two halves apart and in different shapes are extra layers of caution when handling scrolls that could be spell scrolls.

Normally, a message scroll is sent via a bonded courier with an origin canister to carry it in, detailing briefly the type of message it is via certain symbols on the canister. If it can be quickly verified as a trusted source, the Empress might open it, but in almost all other situations, the message would normally be thoroughly scanned for magic traces by specialists before ever reaching her inbox. In the case of urgent reports, of course, it is brought by a messenger who has it in his own notebook or opens the message and reads it to the Empress, as he would likely have already been told the message prior to his arrival in most cases in case the letter is stolen from him and he can still make it to the destination.

But, given the relation to the Citadel and the strange circumstances, Sundenelle chose to get an answer quickly.

Captain Dryker inspects the second half of the message thoroughly, then passing it to another guard as he takes the first half, inspecting it again. He reports, “No signs of magic, your Grace.”
“Very well. Let me read it.”

The guard and the guard captain bring the two halves to her, handing them over. She carefully lines them up on her desk, using an ink well, a couple of coins, and her magnifier to hold the sheets flat together so she can read it.

“[Dear Imperial Majesty Sundenelle kos Lindenmorg,

My name is Daniel kos Lawson. I am fairly confident that you know of me, though you may not know everything. A strange sequence of events saw me summoned to the world of Zenkon from my own, banished by the kingdom that summoned me, facing a dragon, and then conquering the Citadel with my cherished friend, Hekate fell Lawson, new Empress of the Citadel and the Fievegal. I have also befriended the remaining dragons, and they will not instigate attacks.

However, if you are reading this specific letter, then it is because the one I entrusted to your General has been destroyed before reaching you. We tried to lay low because we want no part in the conflict between the east and the west, but more than once, we have been attacked unprovoked by eastern forces, and as of the day you receive this letter, the 100,000 soldiers you sent this time have been repelled. You are welcome to wait until you receive official reports, but one month after the defeat of your forces, we will be conquering Fort Twilight in retaliation for your invasion. Since I’m still working out certain aspects of this world, I’m giving you a chance to save face and preserve the effectiveness of your army.

Immediately recognize the Fievegal as a sovereign state and its ruler, Hekate fell Lawson as its rightful Empress, and withdraw all eastern Allied forces from Fort Twilight prior to our arrival and surrender it as sovereign territory of the Fievegal as an apology for invading unprovoked. Should you comply with these terms, the Fievegal will accept negotiations for the trade of exclusive equipment and components produced only in the Fievegal as well as further non-aggression treaties for an amicable relationship between our nations.

If you do not comply, a similar offer will be made to the Demon Covenant to remove the influence of the Grand Zenkon Empire and its allies from all sovereign lands of the Fievegal.

You have until we arrive at Fort Twilight to give us your answer, your Grace.

Very Respectfully,

Daniel kos Lawson

Emperor of the Fievegal].”

Sundenelle reads the letter twice to make sure she didn’t miss anything. She’s not seeing any patterns of code or outright threats. It seems to be nothing more than a letter of warning to her, specifically, as well as a declaration that Daniel isn’t the captive they thought he was.

“Mother, would you please read this letter for me?”

“Of course, your Grace.” Byleathea rises to her feet, approaching the desk as Dryker quickly moves a chair for her to sit on, and she takes a seat, while Sundenelle turns the letter and arranges it for the lady-in-waiting to read.

Byleathea similarly takes her time diligently reading the letter more than once. She asks, “Daniel is the otherworlder that has been missing since he was banished by Mornistae, is he not?”

“He is,” replies Sundenelle. “But, it seems he is not a prisoner, as was told to me.”

“Perhaps it is a trick?” asks Byleathea. “I believe I have heard this Hekate is little more than a child.”

“I was a child when I became Empress,” replies Sundenelle, still thinking. She could, of course, simply ignore the message. She is curious why the letter would make the accusation that one of her generals destroyed the first letter meant for her. It could be to simply sow disorder in her troops, but it would be more effective to try to turn her military officers against her than to attempt to sow suspicion in her troops. Especially with such a seemingly baseless claim. Daniel would have to be a fool to believe she would so easily deconstruct her military over the claims of a stranger from another world.

Rather, his focus was more on warning her that he intends to capture Fort Twilight no matter what she does, and if he truly has repelled 100,000 soldiers…

But then, why did my men organize another large siege? I thought I gave instructions to take more care than a brute-force approach. It’s clear Daniel and his allies are holding back. It’s also clear that I’m not being given the full picture.

Byleathea offers gently, “Perhaps you could buy time by offering to meet at a peace summit, and organize stronger defenses for Fort Twilight.”

Sundenelle hears her mother’s words, but she thinks on it deeply.

I see. So, Daniel is aware that I have explicitly stated that the Fievegal is not sovereign territory, nor Hekate a sovereign ruler. Then, there are leaks in our alliance. To be expected, but… What to do about it right now?

As she ponders, she replies to Byleathea’s idle question. “I’m not certain that’s a wise course of action in this case. We haven’t seen Daniel’s full strength, and I still know not the capability of his dragon-slaying weapons. He claims Hekate is the lawful ruler, but I believe he is the one I am locked in this game of strategy with. He’s telling us a month in advance, or a little less than, because he’s confident he will win. So confident, he’s even giving his enemy time to prepare. Why?”

“Hubris, your Grace?” asks Dryker when Sundenelle looks at him.

“No… Possible, but I don’t think that’s the case.” She continues thinking. He managed to get a letter to me after bypassing the military forces, knowing that the first letter was destroyed. And, he did so without additional delay, it appears.

“Assuming the contents of his letter are the truth, and assuming he knows I’m the one who declared that the Fievegal is not to be recognized, he still offers a peaceful solution, to me specifically.” She stands up, looking out of the window. Or rather, looking at her own reflection in the window. “‘To save face’, he said. I believe my face is rather pretty, still. No, he means something else.” She paces to her bookshelf, looking at the spines of the books as the others watch her deliberate. She is well-read, and she has studied the history of the continent to the fullest extent she can. For obvious reasons, there’s very little historical information about the Demon Covenant and the western kingdoms that fell during the slow-moving war. She even has the historical records of her own allies as accurately as have been preserved and released beyond their borders. As they say, history is written by the victor and erased by the usurpers from within. 

She has read about countless battles and the strategies employed, especially those used by her ancestors to grow the Empire into what it is today. But, those battles use conventional warfare.

Or rather, warfare conventional to Zenkon.

Daniel isn’t from Zenkon, and he’s supposedly not trying to get involved with the war. When he does, he wins. When he claims he’s about to make a move, it’s not to warn his enemies.

That’s it. I see now.

She turns and faces her lady-in-waiting and the captain of the guard, who are letting her brainstorm. “I’m not his target.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” asks Byleathea. “He’s threatening sovereign territory of the Empire.”

“My forces have invaded him twice, and only now is he responding. He’s responding in a way that tells me he’s either stupid with hubris, or he’s fishing for a specific response. I’m probably one of the few people in this world more well-known than anyone else. Gathering information on me would be easy. He snuck one of his soldiers into the capital, who paid a vagrant child to deliver the letter, knowing that I would be awaiting news from the Citadel, even in an unorthodox form. Telling your enemy your plan of attack and the timeframe in which you will do it is foolish in every possible scenario, except when trying to lure someone out. He has to know I would be foolish to go to Twilight myself for any reason, meaning his real enemy is someone who may be influencing my soldiers or being fed information about the Fievegal for their own purposes. I won’t speculate on who just yet, but that is my theory.” She looks to the captain of the guard. “I’m not playing a mere game of pokko against my retainers anymore. This is gourmeld, and he’s not going to just let me win. He’s going to maneuver me to where he wants me for a sweeping victory. At least, that’s what he’s hoping for.” She holds her hand out, commanding with her Empress voice, “Captain, summon the Imperial Court and the generals who are in the capital. I have two meetings to attend to.”

“What are you going to do?” asks Byleathea. “You need to be cautious if you believe Daniel is so far ahead in planning.”

“I know, Mother. Which is why I know exactly how I’m going to respond to Daniel’s threat.”

***

“Daniel, this thing isn’t going to move. It doesn’t make any sense,” states Wenlianna as she and the others help him assemble his newest creation. It’s a rush job, so he claims it might not be nearly as effective as the ones on Earth, but it also seems like it’s going to be impossible to move. Even with the wheels it’s on, it’s too heavy for a team of twenty buckrokhs to pull!”

Daniel, working on welding armor plates to the vehicle using an extremely simple arc-welder made with a lightning crystal, simply chuckles. “You’d be surprised. Buckrokhs are stronger than horses, and on Earth, I’ve heard draft horses could pull many tons, as long as it’s on wheels.”

“I’m still struggling to understand how the rover works,” replies Treia. “And you think this much metal will be able to move the same way?”

“It won’t be as fast, no. But, it’ll be as fast or faster at top speed than buckrokhs. And, we haven’t even gotten to the creme de la creme.” He chuckles deviously as he continues welding. The women and Choul helping him glance at each other, but resume working. He gave them all jobs to do, which is mainly carrying armor plates over when he needs them, stitching comfortable seats, or assembling small parts. 

As he works, he asks, “Xyreko, how’s the engine block coming?”

“Slow, Daniel. Very slow. The operators are being cautious learning the machine.”

“Ensure they know it’s not the end of the world if they mess up. I’ll train them again on its operation if it comes to that.” He scoffs, adding, “I’m actually surprised I remembered as much as I did. Clearing the cobwebs out feels nice.”

“Daniel, even if this vehicle can reach the fort, what is it supposed to do?” asks Geirahoel as she works with Aoloan and Kera’tai stitching the cushions.

He sighs. “You want me to ruin the surprise?”

Hekate replies for her, “Yes! Surprises are dumb! Is it going to be an ice gun on top? I want a big ice gun!” She cackles as she rubs her hands together. 

“No.” He sighs. “It’s going to be an even bigger version of my rifle. Perfectly suited for taking on a castle.”

They stare at him, and he adds. “It’s just like the artillery pieces I had Xyreko install on the Citadel.”

“But we haven’t seen those be used!” complains Hekate.

“Because I don’t want to frighten the townsfolk. But, you’ll get to see a slightly smaller version in action with this.”

Daniel pats the armor plating he just finished welding. It’s one small part of a versatile tracked vehicle from Earth; the not-so-humble tank.

In this case, as with other things, Daniel is replacing some of the vital functions with magic crystal powered mechanisms, including the internal combustion engine. He has plans to have surveyors go out in search of crude oil or other flammable liquids once the borders are more secure, but then he has to figure out how to refine it, which he's unfamiliar with. He could use strong alcohol, but the ignition properties are different, and it takes a lot of time to brew and distill down alcohol to where it would work.

“If only this was like a light novel, and I could simply connect to Earth's internet or go back and forth,” murmurs Daniel to himself. Of course, were that the case, he could just buy a tank and retrofit it back in the Citadel.

He looks at the grease and slag particles on his welding gloves. His face is also smeared with grease and soot.

I guess I do have the Citadel now, which I guess counts as my cheat power. Must be nice to be one of those protagonists that don't have to get dirty with their magic abilities.

He chuckles to himself, and Hekate asks, “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about life and its peculiarities. How are the engine crystals coming?”

“Great!”

Wenlianna adds, “This is the only part I understand, and only because I saw your pump work. Though, won't it be dumping a lot of water while it's running?”

“Yep. I don’t know how else to get the torque I need, since the electric motor in the rover isn't strong enough. This is probably the wrong way to use hydraulics, but heck with it. With diamond crystals, it'll last long enough and make our enemies wonder what's going on.”

“They'll probably think it's some sort of demonic boat,” jokes Vaergraes. “The east seems to believe we're all backward savages that defy reality.”

“Then we should use ice!” declares Hekate. “I like ice magic more.”

Daniel pats her head gently, and she looks up at him. “Ice doesn't work that way. We need the sudden and fast pressure of water crystals. Ice would bind the metals and damage the friction surfaces. Plus, the metals would be more brittle.”

Hekate stares at him before whispering to Reignleif, who knows a lot more about ice magic, “What’s that mean?”

Reignleif replies, “I don't know why, but I know I have used ice magic to shatter armor and stone before. It becomes fragile like a bird's egg shell.”

Daniel nods. “The bonds between most solid material atoms become tighter under cold temperatures, which can increase hardness but often drastically reduces flexibility. I would wager that, when Reina was living in her frozen room in the Keep, she shattered her scales regularly.”

Reignleif gasps, asking, “H-How did you know that!?”

“That was really the cause?” asks Geirahoel skeptically.

Daniel nods. “Yep. Most solids can be shattered if they get cold enough. We'll do a little experiment to show you.”

“I-I thought that was because the cold was drying my scales out…” murmurs Reignleif sheepishly.

“That's a factor, I'm sure, but you'll see what I mean when I show you.”

“Does this mean a dragon’s weakness is ice magic?” asks Treia. She flinches when all three of the dragons, Hekate, and even Gwenesphia look at her in disgust. She flails her hands as she quickly adds in a panic, “No! It's not like I'm going to tell anyone! I was just curious! I'd rather have dragons protecting my family than attacking them! I was just worried if we should take precautions or something!”

Daniel, pondering during the second part, replies seriously, “Well, I definitely wouldn't call it a strength. On Earth, virtually all creatures that live in permanently cold areas tend to have thick fat and/or special oils in their skin, along with thick, insulating fur, skin, or feathers to protect them against the cold, but even then, there would be such a thing as too cold for them. Likewise, there is undoubtedly a ‘too hot’ for dragons. Our concern should focus on who's prepared to fight a dragon with whatever means they possess. After all, I was able to defeat Morty's brother with a simple slug of steel. I just used a method that's unconventional here to strike him with it.”

The others ponder over Daniel’s words as he resumes working. Ucahote is currently training volunteers for the soldiers, and Xyreko is producing more MDMs in order to increase production. Since MDMs can produce a wide array of parts, it can even lessen the production cost of golems, and as an added bonus, has vastly increased the demand for miners and smelters to bring in and process metals for the MDMs. 

Hekate suddenly chirps warmly, “Then, Feldroks must have been made for the ice, right? Because I have thick fur on my tail, and Mr. Lugrae was fuzzy all over.”

Hekate is referring to the Feral Feldrok, a name she gave him after asking for Daniel to help her choose one. During research for one of his fictional characters, Daniel had found himself down the rabbit hole of Arianrhod, a Welsh mythological figure who gave birth to a son who she cursed with namelessness. His name, Llew Llaw Gyffes, has many possible roots in ancient languages of Earth, his favorite being ‘Lugrae’, which is close to the translation in one of those languages to ‘Moon’. And, when he explained this to Hekate, including the part about Llew Llaw Gyffes, who was cursed by Arianrhod to remain nameless until she gave him a name, she instantly chose Lugrae for the Feral Feldrok, since he was denied the right to a name, just as she was, thanks to Morthybargaron’s treachery.

And, of course, as her elder and someone she has no animosity for, she tries to show him respect.

Xyreko replies, “I can’t say what the ‘natural habitat’ of the Feldroks were prior to forming their first tribe, as it long surpasses my lifespan and the recorded history, but I would wager they were naturally resistant to the cold.”

Choul replies, “I can confirm. Feldrok fur is resistant or immune to virtually all of the elements of nature, as well as magic. They gathered in the area of the Citadel because they are highly sociable beings.” He chuckles softly, reminiscing about his life in the Citadel with the Feldroks.

Hekate smiles. “Perhaps we should make some more, yes?” She looks pointedly at Daniel, and he chuckles, doing his best to ignore her otherwise.

“I said, perhaps we should make some more, yes?” says Hekate loudly and obviously as she leans towards Daniel.

The others watch cautiously for Daniel’s answer, and he notices he’s being watched, ironically by the dragons as well, who each already have eggs in an incubator nearby. And, in Geirahoel’s case, two.

Daniel struggles with this dilemma only because of his morals from Earth. She’s too young as it stands by most of the laws of Earth, though technically, by days, she’s over 18 years old comparatively. Of course, he has noticed that humans of Zenkon age roughly on par with their years on Zenkon, meaning a fifteen year old is still a fifteen year old physically in comparison, so he has resolved to stick to the years. And, even by that logic, there would be people on Earth who would accuse him of terrible things even for waiting.

Actually, as he thinks about it, there are lots of things many Earthlings would object to about his new life on Zenkon, not least of which is his weaponry, his self-proclaimed conquest, and his numerous romantic companions.

Regardless, he wants to at least abide by the 18 rule, though Hekate doesn’t make it easy.

However, as his hesitation to answer becomes more and more obvious, Choul comes to his rescue. “Your Illustrious Greatness, forgive this humble servant for being so impudent, but my Liege is troubled by the fact that you were not afforded a proper childhood free of concerns and responsibilities, and he does his very best to provide that for you. This… includes the responsibilities of an Empress.”

She flinches, grunting, “Hrk!...” Her ears and tail droop as she slumps, crestfallen. She knows the grey dragon speaks the truth, and though she hasn’t fully forgiven his attack, she affords him the right to speak, since Daniel asked her to.

“Impudence is the least of your-...” starts Geirahoel with a fiery tone, but Hekate grumbles, “He’s right, Geira…” She pouts, but she looks at Daniel. “Y-You will, though. R-Right? When I’m old enough?”

Daniel smiles gently, “If I’m still the person you’re set on, yes.”

She smiles, sighing. “Very well. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, you will surrender to me, Darling.” She grins confidently and deviously, and Daniel rolls his eyes. “Yes, Sweetpea.” She giggles gleefully, and Daniel gives Choul a deeply thankful glance, and the grey dragon in human form simply smiles and bows subtly.

Hekate adds suddenly, “Vow to me, Darling, that you will keep your promise.”

Daniel smiles, conceding politely. He slides off of the tank to place himself near Hekate, and he kneels before her like a knight. “My dear, darling, adorable little Hekate. I swear to you that I shall keep my promise to do whatever you want within my power on your eighteenth birthday.”

“Anything?” asks Hekate eagerly.

He nods. “Within my power, mind you.”

She nods vigorously, rubbing her hands together greedily. “Now that you have magic… Heh heh heh! It will be the best birthday ever!” She seems to suddenly realize something as her expression becomes complex, but she doesn’t say anything.

Xyreko approaches, saying calmly, “Daniel, Shek and Skloe are asking for you. They are both in Shek’s private quarters.”

“Is it time?” asks Ryuogriar.

“Yes, it appears so,” replies Xyreko warmly.

Daniel smiles, standing up as he pats Hekate’s head. “Alright. I suppose now’s as good a time as any for a break from work.”

“I’m coming with you!” proclaims Hekate.

“I think I will join you as well,” states Ryuogriar.

“You two…”

“I wish to see the moment,” replies the platinum dragon elegantly. “Shek and Skloe will not mind.”

“Th-Then I’m coming, too,” replies Geirahoel. “I consider them both friends.”

Before he knows it, most of his companions decide to join him for some reason. Daniel insists that he must check with them first before they all crowd into Shek’s room, though even her quarters are massively large.

***

Later, Hekate knocks on a particular door. It’s Daniel’s room, but he’s not currently present. Instead, it’s occupied by three very strong sources of magic. Hekate opens the door, since she also uses this room freely, sleeping with Daniel almost every night. 

Making themselves at home in Daniel’s room are the three dragons, Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and Geirahoel. They arbitrarily decided to make his room their ‘haven’, a place where they can truly relax and be comfortable. In the dragon’s keep, this was in their own private chambers, but in the Citadel, they chose Daniel’s room because he doesn’t threaten them in any capacity, and he makes them feel safe and comfortable.

Of course, on that, Hekate agrees whole-heartedly with them. Even when Daniel truly was stronger than Hekate -before she increased her mana by working with Daniel to defeat enemies-, he didn’t bully her or look down on her. In fact, he relied on her, since she can see in the dark. Just being around him, even when he’s frustrating her with his teasing, makes her profoundly happy deep down.

Hekate fidgets as the three look up from what they’re doing. Reignleif is lounging in Daniel’s prototype ‘recliner’ chair that he made, reading from his phone. Geirahoel is tending to flowers that she’s scattering around Daniel’s room. And, Ryuogriar is resting naked in his bed, shamelessly leaving herself exposed as she intentionally leaves her scent on his bedding, as well as in hopes Daniel will walk in.

Hekate approaches the senior-most of the three dragons, fidgeting with her hands. “Um… R-Ryuo?”

“Yes?” asks Ryuogriar with a suspicious and coy tone.

“Um… Wh-... When’s my birthday?”

Ryuogriar cocks her head, and she only briefly glances at Geirahoel and Reignleif. 

Hekate clarifies, “Y-You know, don’t you? I… I don’t know when it was…”

Ryuogriar’s coy expression softens into a genuinely kind expression. She replies softly, “Yes. Or, I remember the day Morthybargaron brought you to the Keep. I believe you hatched only a day or so before that…”

“S-So… Feldroks do lay eggs?” asks Hekate.

Ryuogriar nods. “Yes. Though, I’ve never witnessed one myself.” She scratches her chin gently as she thinks, looking at the ceiling. “Let’s see… Oh! Actually, as it turns out, it’s about three weeks from now. Twenty six days from today. At least, the day I suspect.”

Hekate smiles, sniffling as she nods. “Th-Thank you…”

Ryuogriar smiles softly as she relaxes. She holds her hands out, and Hekate cocks her head, a little surprised. However, she quickly figures it out, and she climbs onto the bed to hug the voluptuous dragon-woman. Ryuogriar hugs Hekate warmly, and for the first time in her life, Hekate feels like she knows what it would have been like to have a mother. Ryuogriar wasn’t friends or motherly with Hekate in the Keep, but she was never cruel or condescending towards her the way many of the other dragons were.

But, they have come to care for each other in their own way, and even if they are competing at times for Daniel’s approval and attention, they are family. Suddenly, gravity shifts, and Hekate lets out a childish cry of surprise as she and Ryuogriar flop down onto the bed as Ryuogriar simply plops herself down onto her back, pulling Hekate in their hug with her. She continues to cuddle with Hekate, saying gently, “Let’s relax for a bit, Hekate. We can think of ways to celebrate your sixteenth birthday, and then begin planning for the most important one.”

Hekate was surprised by the sudden shift in their posture, but she doesn’t try to pry herself away from Ryuogriar, simply resting on top of her as the dragon pets her hair, gently mindful of Hekate’s big triangular ears.

Hekate hums appreciatively, “Th-Thank you. I’d like that… A-And… I don’t dislike this…”

“Mmm. I’ll tolerate it this once,” teases Ryuogriar, even though it was her that started it. She then adds deviously, “And, if I may be so bold, on or after your eighteenth birthday, I would be happy to participate with you in ‘celebrating’. There is much I could teach you.”

Hekate blushes. It’s not an offer she was expecting, and it’ll definitely be something that she has to consider. After all, she knows very little about what happens behind closed doors.

***

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