Coming back to consciousness was like climbing out of a grave, stone by stone.

There were circumstances where the remains of the dead were interred within the earth, rather than given to fire and wind on a pyre. The Nadians did so almost exclusively, as did any who revered the spirits of earth. Healers, also, were traditionally put to their rest in the soil so that they could become one with the world itself, lending their bright spirit to those that remained behind. But to bury one who would prefer to be burned, that only came of malice towards the dead.

Somehow, Krayson had always assumed he wouldn't be given his pyre.

As he fought to open his eyes, he was surprised that they weren't clogged with dirt, or that he didn't choke on soil and rock. Krayson was warm and momentarily believed that someone had been kind enough to burn his body. He was grateful.

That he had the capacity for gratitude at all was the start of Krayson's realization that he wasn't, in fact, dead.

It was dark, but scant light leaked into this room from between old wooden boards. It was a shed of some kind, ill-made and stinking of mold and vermin. There were riotous voices nearby, and it brought Krayson to a state of panic.

The bloodsong, he thought. He sat up, a cold sweat on his brow. If I'm close enough to hear people, they're close enough to sense it.

He turned his attention towards the ward concealing the bloodsong and found it holding in place. That was impossible. It should have unraveled after a few minutes, and he could tell by the stiffness in his muscles that he'd been unconscious for significantly longer.

"You drew from me," a girl's voice said. It was meek. Frightened, even.

Krayson tensed. Saveen was behind him in the corner of the shed. Without turning to face her, Krayson remained sitting on the shed floor and began to massage his stiff calves. "It was not my intention to use the bond," he said.

He worked up his calves to his thighs, then his shoulders. His neck had a sharp pain, so he refrained from working the joints too thoroughly. While he stretched, Saveen watched in silence. He could feel her eyes like an itch between his shoulders.

"You can," she said after the silence grew long. "I... I don't mind if you use my ether."

"I mind," Krayson replied.

Saveen went quiet again, perhaps believing her input was unwelcome. That wasn't the case. There were things that Krayson wanted from her, but permission to siphon ether like a thief was not one of them.

"Where are we?" Krayson asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I... just flew. I don't know anything about this city, so I couldn't think of anything else. No one was here when we landed. They started showing up an hour ago."

"And it was drawing from your ether that maintained my ward on the bloodsong?"

Saveen hesitated. "I... I'm not sure." She took an unsteady breath. "Is that what I can sense in you? It's faint, like it's being muffled. It isn't apotheosis. Not quite. Similar, but different. Is that the bloodsong?"

"It is. All seven thunders have shown mercy if my ward is still functioning." Krayson chanced a look over his shoulder. He didn't know what he would find inside the shed with him, a girl or something mightier.

What he saw defied his expectations. Saveen sat nearby, no bigger than a kitten but unmistakably a dragon. She had a short neck that could have been called stumpy, a broad skull with a wide mouth lined with sharp teeth, and a thick tail. The length of her little body was covered with knobby, cobalt scales. She was a blunt creature, a contrast to Kimpo's powerful yet graceful form. Instead, Saveen was solid, no matter how small she was.

Krayson let out a dry laugh. "I know they said you were young, but this wasn't what I envisioned."

The comment raised her pique. Saveen stamped a little claw. "Rude. I'm as big as I need to be. If I were my real size, there wouldn't be any room left for you."

Her red eyes went wide, and she swallowed anything more she might have said.

Krayson looked away from her and took in his surroundings. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Hours," she replied, her voice meek once again. "It's after nightfall."

That isn't good news, Krayson thought. He was overdue at the Sanguine Tower. If Cathis learned that Krayson was missing, it wouldn't be all that difficult to believe that he'd taken the bloodsong and run. Should the king come to that conclusion, Krayson's bones would be crushed to powder in the next breath. Though he hated to admit it, his best hope lay with Heron Algara.

She knew I met with trouble, he thought. I can only hope that she'll speak up for me if it becomes necessary.

In any case, Krayson needed to get to the Order. He wouldn't be safe so long as he carried the bloodsong, particularly now that Garret was aware of whose it was. Once Krayson returned home, he could rest and recuperate in security.

There was yet another problem to consider. Krayson turned to regard Saveen once more. The tiny dragon shifted her weight, discomforted by his gaze.

Considering Cathis' obsession with Aleesh, it isn't in my best interest to be seen with a dragon.

Saveen's fidgeting grew agitated. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

She swallowed. "I spoke out of turn. Forgive me, master."

An unpleasant sensation twisted inside Krayson's chest. A ghost of something lost, but Krayson believed he recognized this one. He'd felt it so regularly before finding the Order that it was hard to truly forget what shame felt like. The blood magic would never erase that emotion fully, he was certain.

"I am no master," Krayson said. "Not yours, at least."

She looked up at him with large, crimson eyes. "You hold my bond."

"Your bond was forced on me." Krayson did his best to keep his tone from darkening, but he could hear the anger saturating his words. "I don't want any part of it."

Saveen lowered her head, and her breaths were erratic. "Only the empress can remove it. I don't... Please..."

Somewhere, Krayson had seen behavior like Saveen's before. For the life of him, he couldn't recall when or where. He knew she was distressed— who wouldn't be, bonded to a blood mage— but Krayson couldn't understand why Saveen was reminding him more and more of a...

Of a frightened child, Krayson realized. "How old are you? Trell said twenty."

Saveen curled her tail around her as she nodded.

"I came of age when I was fourteen," Krayson said. "Is it different for..."

"Fourteen?" Saveen blurted in shock. "Mortals are full-grown so soon?"

Krayson leaned his back against the shack wall and chuckled. "Coming of age and full-grown aren't the same thing. At least, not in Teularon."

Saveen cocked her head inquisitively.

"In the south, one becomes an adult at eighteen. In the north, sixteen, and in rural Althandor, it's as young as thirteen. It changes, one kingdom to the next, dictated by tradition and cultural expectations. And it can vary between genders. In Espalla, boys become men at twelve, but it's twenty for girls."

Saveen held her head in her little claws. "It all seems so complicated."

"Perhaps so," Krayson said. "I am seventeen. Though I've come of age, I have another year or two before I have my full growth. More, if I'm fortunate."

"You... do seem smaller than other mortals," Saveen said cautiously.

Krayson snorted. "I've another few inches before I'm done, I'm sure. Not near as much as you do."

Saveen looked embarrassed. "A dragon is never truly full-grown," she said. "We get bigger and bigger up until the day we die."

"How long?"

"Forever." Saveen held her front claws out wide to illustrate her point. "We're immortal and never succumb to our years."

"Yet dragons are rare enough to be thought of as myths. If you never die of old age, why aren't there more of you? Is it because the elder dragons are slain?"

Saveen shook her head. "Some maybe, but Trell said it's been a long time since a mortal killed a dragon. They withdraw, like the Eldest of old did. Trell doesn't like to speak of it, but he said I'll know when it comes time for me to do the same. He said dragons older than a millennium would leave the Continent and never come back."

"And, how old must one be to become an 'Eldest'?"

"It's not like that," Saveen said. "Not an age you reach, I mean. When you're the Eldest of your color, that means you're older than all the others."

Krayson hummed in understanding. "I see. The Eldest are literally the eldest. Where do they go when they withdraw?"

She shrugged.

"So, dragons are never full-grown. What of coming of age?"

Saveen fidgeted. "Perhaps... fifty?"

Krayson leaned forward, his mouth agape. "Are you telling me you're practically a thundering infant?"

"Rude!" Saveen stamped her claws again. "I am not a hatchling. A dragonet, maybe, but not a hatchling!"

Whatever human age Saveen was comparable to, she was certainly petulant like an adolescent. Whatever her views on the matter, Krayson had a measure of how mature she really was. He stood and adjusted his robe around his shoulders.

"You're leaving?" Saveen exclaimed.

"I must," Krayson replied with a curt nod. "It's as I told Garret and Elise. I am under current contract. My life depends upon success."

"What do you need to do? Perhaps I could..." Saveen's voice trailed off, and she didn't finish her thought.

Krayson eyed her sidelong and tried to remember their relative maturity. Of the pair of them, it was his place to act as the elder. "I must deliver this bloodsong. It once belonged to Garret's father, and Prince Vintus was foolish enough to reveal that. Garret will hunt me even without Elise telling him to do so."

Saveen stood on all fours. "Kimpo said we should help each other to escape. If I can, I'll help you."

Krayson noted her eyes, once yellow and now red. He'd done enough to her. "You already have. Thank you for your aid, Saveen. Once I return to the Sanguine Tower, I will look into ways to remove our bond."

He turned to go and placed his hand to the shed door. A firm grip on his sleeve stopped him. Saveen was now in her human form— her polymorphy was remarkably quick— and her face was a maelstrom of competing emotions. He saw panic in her expression. Confusion, pleading, and even a little anger.

"You can't leave." She let go of his robe as if releasing a hot coal, then clutched her hands over her chest. Eyes lowered, she spoke softly. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

"If you're worried that I'll use the bond to punish you, I won't."

Saveen didn't respond. She was quiet and made no motion other than to anxiously bite her lip.

Krayson frowned as he studied her. How long had she been with Elise to be beaten down so thoroughly? Perhaps it didn't matter. Elise's sinister elder magic was perfectly suited for reducing a dragon to a slave.

His eyes traced from her face to beneath her neck. Saveen hadn't carried her clothing through the polymorphy and was nude. That was cause for concern for a number of reasons. She didn't seem at all abashed, or even aware for that matter, that she was indecent.

"Do you mean to walk through the city like that?" Krayson asked.

Saveen blinked rapidly, then looked down at herself.

"A naked girl will draw attention," Krayson explained. "The nature of that attention will vary depending on who sees you."

"In what way?" Saveen asked.

Thunders' mercy, Krayson thought. She sounds like she's honestly curious. He tried to compose a civil answer for her. "That's the least of your problems. If you didn't know, there aren't any races of humanity with blue skin."

Saveen's cheeks turned a deeper shade of blue when she blushed. Her eyes hardened with sudden determination. She took a step back and her skin began to shift. Like a dab of oil paint in water, a swarthy skin tone washed over her to cover the blue. Her hair changed from white to a strawberry blonde and her eyes from red to brown.

Krayson swallowed a gasp of surprise. It wasn't that she could alter her coloring that shocked him, but her choice of appearance. If he wasn't aware of her identity, he'd have thought she was from Teularon.

"How's this?" she asked.

"Confusing." Krayson walked around her, giving a full examination. It appeared as if she'd been thorough, and there weren't any spots of blue left that he could see. "If you can look this convincingly human, why didn't you before?"

"I was blue because I'm a blue dragon," she said, as if it were the natural answer to such a ridiculous question. "No matter what form the mighty take, we still have our pride in our identity. Why conceal our true natures?"

"Your true nature would earn you a dozen self-proclaimed dragonslayers. When you're hated, it's better to keep the parts of you they hate hidden."

Saveen frowned, not liking that answer.

"Believe me. I have experience in this field."

"Because you're a blood runner?"

Krayson suppressed a sigh. "Among other things. Unfortunately, not being a weird color isn't enough to avoid attention."

"Weird?" Saveen squawked in protest.

Krayson ignored her as he continued his lecture. "There are some in this city that would see your state of undress as an invitation, one that cannot be rescinded." He tried not to smirk in amusement at the probable outcome. "As much as I would enjoy watching you tear a few rapers to shreds, I'd rather not pay more of a penance than what I've already earned."

She crossed her arms to cover herself, eyes narrowed as she tried to decide if he was making fun of her. "Penance? What does that mean?"

Krayson sighed. "It means... I must return home. Remain here. I will come back with some clothing for you. You should have a discreet form while we travel together, but if there's a need for you to be human, we should be prepared for it."

She grabbed his sleeve to stop him again. "You changed your mind? We'll stay together?"

"For now," he said with a nod. "It's becoming more and more clear that I can't leave you loose in the City of Althandor. The Order will likely judge me responsible for any deaths that come of it."

Without thinking, Krayson looked down the length of her. She might have been considered desirable, but he'd never been good at guessing that sort of thing. When he looked back up to her face, he found that she was scowling.

"You aren't the sort to see an invitation, are you?" she asked, her tone dripping with judgment.

Krayson scoffed, and without dignifying her question with a response, he left the shed. He shut the door behind him and stood staring at it for a long moment. His brow was furrowed as he considered the ramifications of walking the streets with a dragon. What form would be best for Saveen to take? For that matter, how would he escape unwelcome attention?

Fortunately, those questions could wait for the immediate future. There were more pressing needs. Krayson whispered a couplet in the Aeldenn Tones.

"—Kind messenger awaiting promised wage, my voice sent to another's ear.—" There was a brief and gentle touch against his cheek. A minor wind spirit had answered his summons. Krayson turned from the shed and began walking. "I seek Heron Algara."