"I'm willing to not consider you a burglar, but one wrong move and your guts will soak the floor.", you warned, snapping your fingers. "Not that I am looking forward to that possible outcome."

Small sparks of magic lit up between your nails. The next moment, the door's rusty lock popped open. Screeching metal swung open. Flakes of rust trickled onto the floor like rotten snow.

Gale's tension faded, but a wary gleam remained in his eyes. The glow of the torches reflected, making the dark brown look warm and alert. He was indeed clever, even if he hadn't been particularly skilful so far.

He was endearingly clumsy. Just like a dog. Maybe that's why Tara had the habit of calling him her favourite pet. Or maybe she just had a very good sense of humour. Whatever the answer, you couldn't help but take a step back from him.

Magic pulsed in his chest. It was as if you were closer to the weave than ever before. At the same time, he was one of Mystra's chosen ones.

Or at least he had been.

That alone made him dangerous. It was hard to tell if her lies were still poisoning his mind. Besides, you could sense something about him that could turn even a rabbit into a deadly opponent: Desperation.

He had little to lose and even if there was something there, it wasn't enough to keep him from jumping off the deep end.

"Pardon me.", Gale stepped out of his prison with a sigh. "I've been a more pleasant guest in my time."

Smiling politely, he bowed to you as deeply as one would expect when facing a queen. Tara nodded with satisfaction.

"You see, dear?", she looked at you proudly. "He's not so irritating after all."

"Hm. A good start, I suppose.", your arms sank to your sides, relaxed. "Well then. I don't think I got your name the first time."

"Gale. Gale of Waterdeep."

The earring on his left ear gleamed suspiciously in the light of the torches. The sight was enough to send a shiver down your spine. It was an emblem of the plague, a symbol of worship to a woman as awful as the devil.

Or worse.

Nevertheless, you tried not to immediately destroy your newfound trust. In the end, he didn't give you the impression that he actually had bad intentions.

Tara had probably told the truth and they had just got lost. Your gaze travelled over the stone walls. Not a particularly inviting environment for a conversation.

Gale visibly gave the impression of being not only confused but also overwhelmed. Not only could he not explain the things that happened in this tower, but he had run into a completely strange creature.

A lot of new things at once confused the mind. Especially when it was as fragile as that of the mortals.

"Let's talk somewhere else, shall we?", with a snap of your fingers the room bent. "Close your eyes for a moment. Don't be afraid."

Still sceptical but willing to cooperate, he did as you asked. Might pulsed between your fingers, spreading. A breath later, the deserted parlour was gone.

Soft carpet woven from red fibres nestled against the bare soles of your feet. A fire crackled in a mighty fireplace of black stone and gold, so ravenous that the flames twitched green.

In front of this very fireplace stood two armchairs made of dark wood, covered in purple silk, which would have fitted an ogre of above average size.

"Please.", you pointed invitingly at the seats.

Gale's eyes opened hesitantly. He knew that all this had been born of magic. Yet his mind could find no explanation for it.

"This power.", he raised a trembling hand to his chest. "Weave magic."

The orb in his chest hummed. You nodded.

"Allow me a few secrets. But know that I am not a danger. As long as you don't force me to become one."

His brown eyes travelled over your face. He could find no lie in them, no ulterior motive. Still, he had a little more respect for you now.

Perhaps he was also a little ashamed because he had thought you were something as simple as a tiefling woman. Now he realised that your race was of far more powerful lineage.

As his gaze travelled over the huge shelves full of books that reached up to the vaulted ceilings, he dropped into the armchair. You sat down in the other next to him.

The fire crackled in response to your presence.

Inhaling deeply, you took in the crackling of the flames, listening to their pleas and the prayers they whispered to your blood.

Your fingers curled. Long claws ran gently over the silken cover. So much strength lay dormant in your body and yet you knew how to restrain yourself.

Only at that moment did it become difficult. Sitting next to you was one of the most feared people of your kin.

"As a small child, my mother told me stories about men like you.", you breathed in and the fire in the fireplace did the same. "Mystra's chosen ones. Men of blessed magical origins who manage to capture her rare interest. Rarely were there happy endings to the stories of these men. Quite often they chose to make tragedies of their lives."

Your eyes wandered almost imperceptibly to Gale.

Lost in thought, he stared at the twitching green in front of him. Tara was curled up at his feet, enjoying the magical warmth. The light bathed his face in deep shadows. In this armchair, made to match the size of your race, he looked as if his body was sinking.

"You speak as if you know her.", he repeated, his hand moving to his ear to rub the earring. "What are you?"

Again he looked at you. This time there was fear in his brown eyes. So much fear of the unknown. Fear of you, of what you were.

Your gazes met.

"I am a Draconia.", you replied.