***Devon Whittle***

Witness testimonies vary on Princess Poppy's disappearance. There are whispers that she'd been burnt alive, snapped in two, carried away a corpse. Others claim they'd heard her screaming as the dragon escaped, some optimistic enough to admit that she'd seemed terrified but relatively unscathed. (It was notable that the latter version was more likely to have taken place under the icy stare of the queen.)

There are only two things everyone could agree on: 1.) dead or alive, the dragon took Princess Poppy, and 2.) afterwards, it flew east.

Needless to say, it isn't much to work with. All I have going for me is that I'm actually not responsible for bringing her back. My job is simply to monitor and care for the one who is.

Unfortunately for the both of us, the Nathaniel Derrington that sauntered into Marigold's ball and the one that came stumbling out were not the same people.

Aside from the obvious, there didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with him. Because of the properties of dragonfire he didn't suffer any infections or sustain any damage to his internal organs. The burned skin didn't have the same elasticity as once had, but that didn't seem to limit his mobility - In fact, he's more animated than ever before.

His psychological state, though, that's another story. When we first found him it seemed that his mania was temporary, that the smiles and giggles would eventually wear off. It was Nathaniel Derrington, after all. The Young Dragonslayer. Yes, this was much more than a cut from a blade or a broken bone, but we simply assumed that he would just take a little more time to get back on his feet. We were excited to aid him in that process.

And we were very wrong.

The mania that had seemed so laughable, so temporary - it slowly enveloped the core of his personality, swapping places with the brief flashes of lucidity that we had expected to dominate. If my worst prediction is correct then before long the Young Dragonslayer would truly disappear, lost in the damning night of Marigold's ball, leaving us with nothing but the empty smiles and echoing laughter of the boy with the burned face.

A boy, I think to myself as Nathaniel tucks a flower behind my ear. He's just a boy.

"Pretty, huh?" he says with a grin, giving my head a playful ruffle. The flower falls out of place with the movement. He frowns pensively and adjusts it, leaning in so close his breath brushes across my cheeks. It smells like blood.

How could the Queen expect anything but failure from him? How could I?

But it would be useless to dwell on what eventually would be, or get any emotions tangled into this. The burned boy could not become anything more than a research experiment to me. I doubt that sentimentality would stop me from doing what I must, but it would make me hesitate. It would make some things harder to do.

I sigh and take a moment to appraise the sky. It 's a beautiful today, like most days in Arthronia. Sunshine and clear, incredibly blue skies. Apparently the color is so bright that it hurts to look at during midday if you're not accustomed to it. Now it's a darker, more subtle shade, an unsubtle reminder that we don't have very much time left.

I spent hours packing, over packing and unpacking and then packing in more than I pulled out, effectively gathering enough medical supplies to ensure that our horses will never walk quite the same after this trip.

The only unresolved issue is the extra tagalong Queen Eliza permitted me to recruit for the quest. I immediately thought to ask one of the other medicinal practitioners to join since I was sure they would be fascinated by the opportunity, but I'd forgotten one important detail: they are all incredibly old.

While my superiors are undeniably brilliant in our field, I doubt their bodies could keep up with the strain of fast paced travel across rocky roads and mountains and whatever physical barriers separate us from the missing princess. Not to mention we would have to throw in an extra horse or two to accommodate them.

No, it was better we find someone else for the trip. But who?

"You know," Nathaniel says, startling me out of my line of thought, "maybe we'll find someone later."

I blink at him in surprise. Was I speaking out loud?

Nathaniel leans down to pluck another flower, a marigold, but after a moment decides to let it be. "The princess used to tell me all about you and how detail oriented you were and shit. She likes you a lot, you know."

And there it is - the brief flash of lucidity that could disintegrate at the slightest provocation. If I was careful I could string it out to last a few minutes if I avoided certain eggshell topics. It was the best, if not only, thing I could really do for Nathaniel's benefit.

"She does?" I ask, prompting him to speak, testing the waters for how I should approach the topic. It doesn't hurt that I am actually a little curious at what this conversation could reveal about the princess. Marigold, though endearing, had always seemed a bit too self-centered to note my predilection towards perfectionism, much less mention it to another person.

"Yeah. You know. Devon this, Devon that, blah, blah, blah, Devon," Nathaniel says, tilting his head and wagging his tongue while making a vague, meaningless gesture with his hand. The burned one.

I try to eject a friendly laugh. "She was the same with me. She loves you too, you know."

His face goes blank and I know I've made a mistake.

"Who wouldn't?" he says with a sudden leer, punctuated by a condescending click of his tongue. He turns his face so all I can see is mottled, angry flesh. "Listen, you know what?" he says with a chuckle. "I, uh, I should say goodbye to her, at least. You go on ahead, pretty boy. I'll catch you by John's apple stand."

It's a crowded meeting spot, but he won't attract too much attention as long as he wears his cloak. That isn't what has me concerned, though.

"Aw, don't worry about me! I can keep hidden, Eliza won't even know I'm here." When I don't answer he gives me a friendly punch that mats my shoulder in crusted blood.  When he sees the skepticism etched in my face, he sighs. "Listen, daylight's burning and I don't wanna be stuck here with Eliza after dark, either. I'll be there. Trust me."

As a general rule, I don't trust the mentally unstable. But I also know that if this quest is going to have even the slightest chance of not being a complete failure, then I was going to have to be a bit more flexible.

Maybe misreading my silence, he walks away before I can say anything. I watch him until he disappears from sight and let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in.

I go to the stalls and get our horses ready. I'm sure they would enjoy some fresh apples before a long trip.