Early that same day Daemon was having a very different problem. “How many of these do I have to sign?” Fraylon asked. He tried to make a brave face as he eyed a huge stack of blank parchment.

                           “All of them. Remember, you’re doing something very important. It’s going to help me out a lot. Can you do this?” Daemon smiled.

                           “Yes. Of course I can,” Fraylon said, dipping his quill in the ink like Daemon had taught him to do. “You’re going to stay with me right?” he looked up for a second.

                          “Yes. I’ll be right here,” Daemon replied, getting behind his desk and starting on some real paperwork. He had gotten his dragon busy so he could work in peace. It’s amazing how much work it took to come back from the dead.

                          He didn’t expect to see his father for a couple hours. He was never a morning person. But his mother came in once to wish him a good morning and give him an embarrassing hug. “Mum, I’m not ten anymore,” he complained as she gathered him up in her arms, “I’ll be twenty four in a couple months.”

                        His mother just smiled and said what all mothers do, “You’ll always be my little boy Dae!” Then she kissed him on the cheek before realizing Fraylon was in there too, pausing in his work to watch them. She swept over to the dragon. “Good morning Fraylon. I bet you’re starving. Look at you!” she pinched his shoulder, “You’re just wasting away! What will you boys like for breakfast?”

                       “Some fish would be nice,” Fraylon beamed.

                      “Fish for breakfast?” Daemon’s mother thought about it. She shrugged, “Sounds good to me. Fish it is!”

                      She left, humming her favorite tune.

                Daemon rolled his eyes and turned back to his mass of paperwork. “Your mother seems really nice,” Fraylon said behind him, “Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”

                      Daemon cringed. “Because… she’s just… it’s complicated.”

                      A frantic knock on the door.

                    Daemon stood up and called, “Come in!” Following his lead, Fraylon got to his feet, readying himself for anything.

                    In stumbled a guard in icy blue armor. He looked like he had run some ways and was breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?” Daemon demanded.

                    The man leaned against the wall, gasping out, “Big… dragon. Approaching Grunde.”

                     Daemon’s heart seemed to be lodged in his throat. He swore very loudly in English before reverting back to Grundian. “Where?”

                     “The east, it comes. Swifter than a hippogriff,” the man spat.

                     Daemon dashed out of there before he could say another word. He forgot to even grab for a coat. As he busted into the frigid morning air, he didn’t notice the bite of the wind or his skin starting to freeze. Fraylon trailed him although he was still not comfortable enough in his human form to run. Scanning the area to make sure that most people were in the confines of their toasty houses, Daemon decided to make a run for it. His legs flew over the snow as he tapped into his Rider strength and agility. House in the way? No problem. With a running jump, he could crawl up the side of the roof as easily as if he had been walking up the stairs. Snow caught in his eyelashes and gathered in his hair to make a cold, woolen cap as he judged the distance between the house and the huge walls blocking the view of the mountain. With a deep breath he shot off the roof and landed smoothly on the wall.

                      Soldiers shifted nearby, but they were not looking at him. They were staring off into the distance, where a huge green creature was loping up, its wings to its sides. Daemon swore even louder, his eyebrows in a tight furrow over his eyes. Why did you have to come back to haunt me? Daemon thought.

                       The men shuffled nervously, waiting for orders from someone. Finally a voice spoke up, “What are you waiting for? Kill it before it makes it here. Get out the Zeffna arrows.” The voice belonged to a burly general with four badges glimmering on his suit. His knuckles cracked as he leaned over the wall, his hard brown eyes locked on its prey. In response every man on the wall strung their yew bows with their most poisonous batch yet. Every one was trained on the dragon. A few more seconds and he’d be in firing range…

                      “Wait!”

                      The men turned to find an average sized man, poorly underdressed with short black hair and bright blue eyes. His freckles seemed to shiver with worry, “Don’t kill him.”

                      The soldiers turned back towards the dragon approaching, “Who are you?” one of them asked.

                       Fraylon staggered through a snow drift by the wall to get to Daemon. “They’re going to kill him!” he said, “You got to do something!”

                     One of the soldiers turned to Daemon, “You know this thing?” he nodded towards the Ventus Rex.

                        Fraylon started to say something but Daemon covered his mouth with a hand. He watched Jaydon lope along, every footfall accompanied with a burst of hot, steaming breath. And then he heard it, something none of the other men heard. But Daemon could hear it, loud and clear with his advanced hearing. Fraylon could hear it too and his eyes widened. Jaydon was calling, “Arianna! Arianna! I’ve come to take you back!”

                        Fraylon’s huge eyes slid to meet Daemon’s but Daemon ignored his glance. The soldiers waited expectantly to hear his answer. “No. No I don’t know the creature,” Daemon said evenly, “Now kill it before it kills us.”

                        “Daemon! No!” Fraylon started to say, but Daemon covered his mouth again, firmly. The frost dragon watched helplessly as arrows of death rained from the sky at the unwary dragon. They heard a roar as they met their mark.

                       “Again!” the commander called and another hail of arrows shot towards Jaydon. Jaydon screamed as one grazed his eye and another imbedded in his gums. Get out of here, Daemon willed, Go. He counted to five in his head. One, two… Jaydon plunged through the snow, his desperate cry for the Princess drifting across the snow like the cry of a lone wolf. Three, four… the dragon shook his head like he was fending off flies. “I come in peace!” he cried, “I’m not going to hurt you!” Five. Jaydon stumbled through the snow with a bellow. Pain caused his muscles to spasm and for a second he collapsed on a snow drift, stunned.

           One more arrow shot deep into his wings and he gave one last shrill cry before spreading his wings and hurtling through the sky with an ear blasting BOOM that caused the drifting snow to build up like a white wave and ripple towards the castle. Daemon’s hair flew back as the wall of air hit him and he leaned forward against the blast. Then it rolled through the city like thunder, blowing snow like a miniature blizzard.

                     For a second everyone was stunned.

                     Fraylon’s small voice broke the silence. “Is he okay?”

                     He won’t be for long. Daemon replied in his head, With that many arrows, he’ll be dead in five seconds.

                     Fraylon gulped hard. Daemon grabbed him by the shoulders, “You breathe a word of this to Arianna and you’re dead. You hear me?” Fraylon nodded. “Good.” He turned to the soldiers, “And I will ask the same of you. That dragon… he has been hunting her ever since she left this castle. It has been haunting her. If you mention it to her I’m afraid that she may be at risk for a mental breakdown. So please, for the protection of your Princess, I ask that you keep this incident to yourselves.”

                      The soldiers nodded seriously. Fraylon said nothing for a minute, his head down. Then he looked up and it seemed like something in his blue eyes had shattered. “You know what, Daemon? Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you anymore,” he shook his head, his lower lip trembling. And with that, he hopped down from the wall and started trudging through the building snow storm.

                       Frustration built up in Daemon. His dragon had never disagreed with him on anything! Fraylon had always sided with his Rider. Daemon remembered the vicious words he had used with Jaydon just weeks before. Why was he suddenly getting all soft? But Fraylon’s simple words had dug deep into Daemon’s heart and as the dragon leaned against the wind his Rider called out, “Fraylon! Fraylon, I’m sorry! Come back, Fray! Come back!” Fraylon just hunched his shoulders determinedly as his tears froze on his face. He didn’t stop.

                           “Fray! What are you doing? Come back!” Daemon cried, hopping from the wall. The snow swirled faster and faster around him, whipping his hair into his face and obstructing Fraylon from view. Then he realized, as Fraylon disappeared into the snow, that Jaydon was gone. He was dead now. Daemon had killed him. He hated that stupid Ventus Rex, but he had never wanted to kill him! What have I done? He thought, pushing through a snow drift. What have I done?

                             You killed a baby hatchling, Fraylon’s voice said in his head, and his Rider. Both of them dead just because they were just annoying to us.

                             Daemon heard the truth in his words and guilt seemed to close in on him on all sides. He felt Fraylon withdraw from his mind and leave him to his own tortured thoughts. No! Don’t leave me, Fraylon! He yelled in his head and out loud, dropping to his knees. He covered his face in his hands and wept bitterly, his tears frozen on his glassy eyes.

                                Then a warm hand on his shoulder and a blanket was thrown around his bare arms and he was gently led inside a warm room. He hardly noticed as he was set down or even when a warm cup was pressed to his lips. He looked down at the mug sourly, not registering what it was, his mind elsewhere. What a coward I am, he thought. I do not deserve my family name. Killing a baby dragon- I never meant for things to go this far! But- he isn’t really a baby was he? He tried to soothe himself. He had all Ralem’s memories, so that makes him like a couple years younger than me-right? No reply. Daemon wasn’t used to being so alone in his own head. You’re right, he said to Fraylon even though the dragon hadn’t contacted him at all. Ralem is dead too, isn’t he. I killed him too. Daemon hugged the blanket around his shoulders tighter, hearing his frozen fingers crack with the sudden muscle movement. But he had it coming, didn’t he? Having the audacity to come and try for the Princess’s hand. It was his fault, Daemon tried to right himself in his mind. He knew it wasn’t his place to pursue her. His blood is on his own head. He vaguely realized someone was talking to him, trying to ask him questions, but it was ignored as he sunk deeper into himself. His temperature plunged with the bitter retreat and his eyes froze open. The only thing that kept his blood from freezing was his natural antifreeze, but that didn’t stop his muscles from becoming rock hard. What have I done? was the last thing he thought before he drifted into hibernation.

                             “I’ve never seen this before,” the innkeeper said, nearly in hysterics, “How long has he been out there? He’s already frozen stiff! Henry!”

                             The man, a stern eagle-nosed old entrepreneur with a heavy sweater and heavy brows leaned over Daemon with a slight frown. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Violet. He’s gone. I’ve  never seen someone go into rigor mortis so fast though.” He respectfully tried to close Daemon’s eyes with two fingers but found they were frozen open. “The man’s frozen to the core,” he said, in shock. Shaking his head, he grabbed a sheet and pulled it over the Rider. “I’ll have someone pick him up as soon as this blizzard’s gone,” he muttered to the shaken innkeeper. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make you some tea.”

                             “But.. but, I know that boy!” the innkeeper cried, her fists balled up to her mouth. She pointed a shaking finger to the lump under the sheet. “It’s the lord’s son, Henry! The one that just turned up out of the blue! Oh, Henry. What are we to do? Oh, the poor lord, his only son,” she started to choke up and Henry wrapped an arm around her and led her to the kitchen. “We can’t do anything now. The blizzard is getting worse. Afterwards I’ll send a servant boy to get the lord. Here, let’s get some tea to calm you down. Deep breaths, Violet. There you go, girl…” their voices faded as they walked to the kitchen.

                            Outside the blizzard howled and blasted against the sides of the house. White, white everywhere. Under those white sheets stared blue eyes, looking at nothing- pure unadulterated white. In the inn, people murmured and whispered lazily, settling themselves in for a good storm. No one knew about the Rider in deep hibernation curled up in the extra room. No one, that is, except for the innkeeper and her husband, who were talking in low voices in their private office and immersing themselves in their tea.

                              But suddenly, the door burst open to reveal that blinding white and a blast of cold air. The innkeeper burst out of her office, followed by Henry. And in stumbled a man in but a flimsy doublet and thin pants. His short hair was covered in fluffy white and his shoulders were speckled with snowflake specks. His eyes shone a paralyzing blue as he closed the door after him, their gaze not leaving the innkeepers face. “Where is he?” was all he asked.

                             The innkeeper got what he was saying. “Follow me,” she said and walked towards the extra bedroom. Ignoring the stares, Fraylon followed, his boots leaving wet imprints in the wood, albeit not making so much as a noise. Once he was inside the room, he turned towards the innkeeper, “Please, let us be alone.”

                               She nodded, her mouth moving as if she was going to say something but thought better of it and backed off, closing the door softly.

                               Fraylon bit his lip and grabbed the edge of the sheet. With a quick flip he unveiled his Rider- staring straight ahead, his skin as white as the sheets he had been hidden under. Fraylon moaned at the sight. He slid into the bed next to his Rider, carefully uncurling every single one of Daemon’s joints starting at his fingers. The whole time he opened his connection to Daemon, searching for him deep within himself. Daemon! He called, It’s me. Fraylon. Come back to me. I need you. You can’t go into hibernation.  Fraylon rubbed his facial muscles, willing those eyelids to blink. He blew on Daemon’s eyeballs, “Daemon,” he whispered. “Daemon, wake up.” Daemon did not wake up. He didn’t for hours. Fraylon didn’t give up. He even started a fire, which was very scary for him, to warm up the room. He set up a little comfy palace a couple feet from the fire made of pillows and sheets and gently carried Daemon over to it, settling his frozen body next to the hungry flames.

                             When even this didn’t work, Fraylon did something that was extremely dangerous for any dragon to attempt. He was desperate. He was scared. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He searched for Daemon. And searching for him wasn’t the usual mind touch. It was the actual, get inside of him kind of trick. And it was scary. Fraylon took a deep, shuttering breath before letting himself go.

                              He found Daemon in the recessed of his mind, a ball of sadness, regret, anger, and torment. Fraylon reached out to him, edging him along. Come back. Come out of this.

                              No. There is nothing for me but regret. How will I ever look Arianna in the face again? I… I’ve never killed anyone in my life, Fraylon. And what’s worse is that… I think he looked at me. Before he …. Died. Now I remember it! I could see his eyes. They were so big… and he just gave me that look… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Daemon curled up into an even tighter ball.

                            You did do a terrible thing, Fraylon said, but that is no reason to try to kill yourself. If you do not think of your own life as enough incentive, look to me, Daemon. I need you, not as a frozen grape but as my Rider. And if you die, then I will die also. Is this not enough reason to get out of this? Me?

                              Daemon knew he was right. Killing himself would be the same as murdering the frost dragon, and that would just add more red to his ledger. Not only that… but he needed him. He needed him to make it through one of the deepest lows of his life. Daemon had always liked to think of himself as self-sufficient, but now he held out a hand for help and his dragon readily took it. I will stand by you always, Daemon. Remember that. Fraylon said.

                            And Daemon flashed back to consciousness where his eyes met the warm hearth and soot-covered bricks. He twisted his neck with a satisfying crack to find Fraylon sprawled out on the floor, breathing heavily. That endeavor had been quite painful for him and he was still trying to get himself together. Daemon’s joints clicked as he rolled over and he steadied the shaking dragon. Fraylon searched his expression with questioning eyes. Daemon suddenly pulled him into a hug. “I know I don’t say this much,” he whispered, “But… I do love you my little Fray.”

                            Fraylon hugged him back with a sad smile, “I know.”

                             “I’m sorry about everything,” Daemon said, straightening.

                            “Are you still going to not tell Arianna?” Fraylon asked seriously, trying to show that he was mature enough to be talking about this.

                            “No. No, I can’t break it to her,” Daemon said, “What will she think of me? A-”

                          “Murderer?”

                          “Yes. Yes, I am a murderer!” Daemon cried, digging his head into his hands. “I.. I can’t take this. I need to turn myself in to the Queen.”

                           “Wait!” Fraylon lit up with a possibility, “What if he’s not dead? What if he’s just hurt? You saw how fast he flew- and the best dragon healer in the world is in Baroke. She may have been able to heal him before anything bad could’ve happened!”

                           “You’re right!” Daemon exclaimed, “I forgot about the healer. He’s probably just fine. I didn’t kill him after all!” he laughed nervously.

                              “Well either way,” Fraylon said, “We’re going to find out in a week.”

                              “Why?”

                              “Because we’re going back, remember? You promised Lauri.”

                              “Oh. Yes. We’re going back,” Daemon said, sounding like he had just recovered from a daze. “Oh, I don’t want to go back, Fray. It feels like I just got home.”

                              “Believe me, I’m not any more excited than you are. This is where I belong… This is where we belong,” he paused and his icy blue eyes met Daemon’s. “But… we pledged ourselves to Lauri and Baroke. We have to keep our word.”

                              Daemon looked outside, where the snow was climbing up the windowsill. “Dead or no, it’s not going to be good for us.”

                              “Why?”

                              “Because... Jaydon saw me,” Daemon said simply. “They finally have an excuse to kill us.”

                             Fraylon shivered.