Written: 8/15/23
Word Count: 1,015

I'm not sure how long I stood outside, staring up the incline where the Dark Elves had retreated. I processed and reprocessed the same actions, the same words until I could only be sure of one thing: my head hurt.

Even if I was a prisoner, at least they intended to treat me...well? Resinee seemed delighted, as did many of the villagers she'd introduced me to. Maybe a dragon vet was more of an honorable position in this Western village than I'd been led to believe.

But then, why did it seem as if they didn't care that Aunt Rosetta had died?

Wind whistled above the oasis. The tangle was loud, like an invisible war was happening right above my head amidst the cloudless sky.

I turned to survey the space, a more thorough look than before. The garden I'd glanced at before, check. The burbling brook, check. The paths through the gardens, benches lined up on either side. It was a maze, one that encompassed most of the mini-forest. The only untouched, uncultivated spot was right up against the hotel's bulksome frame.

I followed the maze around the giant clinic. There were animals here, so a few chitters of insects and birds made themselves known. But it was mostly the raucous wind I heard. It sounded so violent; I'm glad it was only up high and not actually in the oasis.

The maze was lined with loosely-trimmed shrubs, so the walkways were a bit of a mess. If you're going to have shrubbery like this at all, then you have to keep up with it. But no. The boxy frames were too chunky on the top, so sprigs of poky evergreens and wrappings of ivy brushed my legs as I walked across the paving stones.

Once I reached the back of the property, a whole courtyard was unveiled. It wasn't giant by any means—certainly nothing crazy by the Capital's standards—but it felt out of place. The walkways were so small, the garden lower to the ground. Even the trees were these young, tiny things.

But this courtyard, made of paving stone and brick, even had a short wall bordering it. The wall wasn't tall enough to impede more than a toddler, but it gave off the feeling of a private space. The tan stones looked cleaner here, too, as if even the few birds living in the fringes wouldn't touch it.

Its size could only mean one thing.

This was a landing pad for dragons.

"If they really come here," I marveled, shaking my head from side to side, "then how does she get them to land here and not in the garden?"

I took a seat on the miniature wall of the courtyard, releasing my homework bag from my shoulder with a relieved hiss.

Beyond the courtyard was dense, thick forest, likely very steep. This was on the top of a mountain, after all. Sure, it was nice to be hidden from prying gazes, but I couldn't just escape without thinking it through.

I sighed, letting the air hiss through my teeth. I was suddenly, unequivocally, unrelentingly, tired.

Even if I learned how to scale down the wild side of a mountain and not fall, get eaten, or get captured, then what? My family didn't want me. I'd been all but formally disowned. Father hadn't even bothered to tell me himself. He'd had Headmaster Ralph and Niall do it.

Niall wouldn't help me, either. I had brought up building a boat to die in far-off, prettier waters, but even that attempt at taking hold of my own fate was laughable right now.

"What are my options?" The words were weak, for I knew it in my heart: there were none.

The Dark Elves wanted someone to be a vet, even if they knew dust-all about dragons. If I tried to leave, I would be stopped. That was what those three muscle-heads were for. Resinee, the carrot; Rocco, Cotswold, and Variance, the sticks.

Where would I go? Who would help me? I had no friends. My family's servants only took pity on me; no way would they defy their Master to help me in secret.

Wander aimlessly? Try to find a village less sinister than this one? Was there a guarantee I'd find that, even if I searched all across the oceans to the ancestral lands?

Father sent me out here to deal with Aunt Rosetta's estate, but he never intended for me to return. Whether he expected me to die on my way, or die when I got here, I'm sure he never could have imagined how it actually went down.

"Mother..."

If anything Father said could be believed, Mother would be freed from rehabilitation soon. Maybe it wasn't intended for me to settle things here and pick her up there. Perhaps Father expected we would stay in Aunt Rosetta's clinic.

So, what would happen if I stuck around? Resinee said they'd feed me, allow me to make doctor's appointments, and supply me with whatever I needed. They weren't trying to deprive me of basic elven necessities. That wasn't such a bad gig. Not really.

If I could pretend to help out a few dragons, slap some ointment on scaly patches and sew up some tattered wings, they'd be tricked by the lie. And if the dragons had something more serious going on, well, it's not like it would be a guarantee they could be saved even if I wasn't a fraud, right?

Aunt Rosetta must have books on this stuff inside the clinic. I could make do, make the lie believable, and wait. I could wait. I think.

Play nice with the villagers, play pretend like a vet, and...wait for Mother to arrive. It may take months. It may take half a year before Father makes good on his promises.

Day by day, all I have to do is make nice and secretly prepare an opening. Get to know how closely they watch this place. Keep an eye on them keeping an eye on me.

Then, when Mother stumbles in...we leave. Immediately.