"Ilian, don't!" Faine cried out, throwing her arm in his direction.

The dragon pommeled sword lifted high over his head, and determination darkened his cobalt eyes. At the sound of Faine's voice, he froze, that sword vaulted high, and furrowed his brows as Tyvni dragged her long, slimy tongue along the feliram's cheek.

Faine grimaced and braced her hands against Tyvni's soft underbelly, where the rough scales of her outer armor didn't pierce into the lilac softness of her skin. The dragon smelled as she normally did, of rotten meat and dusty straw from the stables back at Rising Eternity. With her back pinned against the dirt and her head turned to the side, Faine could barely make out the fact that Tyvni wasn't wearing a saddle.

A mercy. Kaspar wasn't around, he probably hadn't noticed Tyvni was gone at all, though that said plenty about how sharp of an eye he was keeping on her. When dragons went missing, it wasn't difficult to notice. Their bodies were large enough, their pens empty, and the beat of their wings sent enough signals.

Faine gripped onto the horns on Tyvni's head and tried to pry the beast off. She laughed under her breath and reached for her large paws instead, finding her claws clinging to the dirt as to avoid being pushed off. No beast outmatched the strength of a dragon, not a giant and definitely not a feliram. She squealed when the dragon stuffed her rounded snout into her neck and breathed a puff of hot air, something Tyvni knew tickled her skin.

"What the hell?" Ilian snapped. He lowered the sword and studied Tyvni; the green scales and toned body. Dragons were always shockable to mortals, as were the unicorns and anything else that didn't look exactly like them. In short, Pinedon was a rude awakening.

"Ilian," Faine said, shoving Tyvni's face away, only to fail miserably. "This is Tyvni, my dragon." She sputtered when the dragon's tongue licked over her open mouth. Wiping it away with her forearm made it worse. "She must've escaped my residence in Isflean to search for me."

"You have a dragon? How...how? Only the richest in Pinedon have access to such beasts." He sheathed his sword and took one step towards her, his hand extended to brush against her scales, and Tyvni pivoted. Her neck snapped in his direction and she barred her large, sharp teeth at everything that Ilian was. A kidnapper, a murderer, a threat.

The ground shook underneath Tyvni's large paws and she unhinged herself from Faine to stalk Ilian, her head dropped low. The mortal stepped back and his eyes were so wide with fear and awe that Faine wondered which emotion was winning. When his back pressed against a tree and he had nowhere to go, Tyvni sniffed his face.

His blue-black hair fluttered around his face; his eyes crossed to watch her close movements.

Faine rolled her eyes and stood, brushing the dirt off her back. "Tyvni!" It was a simple order with no request behind it, but the dragon understood. Her large tail slashed along the dirt trail and she nudged between Faine's legs, lifting her over her large head and onto her scaled back. "Tyvni, I can't," Faine laughed. "I can't go back right now."

"She's trained to fly?" Ilian asked. He pried himself from the tree and walked towards the beast once more. Normally, once a mortal was growled at or sniffed in such a matter as Tyvni had greeted him, they didn't go back for second helpings. It was too risky to lose a hand or another important body part—like their head.

"I trained her myself." Faine slid off Tyvni's back and patted the dragon's neck, right behind her horns. "I stole her when she was merely an egg, and I raised her."

"She's...beautiful." Ilian swallowed when the dragon raised her head to block out the sun, her maw dripping with saliva. Tyvni's tongue licked the scales around her mouth, and when she lowered to meet Ilian again, he wasn't afraid to stick out his hand in her direction. Practically asking to lose a few fingers.

Faine couldn't help but smile. The dragon before her, the one she was pissed towards for going against her training to find her somewhere in Pinedon, was her world. There weren't many living creatures in Pinedon that loved Faine as much as Tyvni did, but their bond stretched from the day the beast was born. Many feared dragons, even more hunted them, but dragons didn't face as much love as they should've.

From the day she was born, that was all Faine wanted for Tyvni. To watch her grow surrounded by love. And she wasn't the biggest dragon or the smartest, but her heart didn't fit in her chest the way others did. Tyvni faced discrimination for being a runt, those in Isflean studied her for a moment and believed her use to be nothing other than a pack dragon.

Her wings weren't strong enough, they said. Her body couldn't carry the weight of battle, they claimed. She'd make a better meal than a companion, they threatened.

Faine never believed a word. Tyvni flew just as well as the other dragons with extra training. She fought and protected everyone she cared for. She ate those that believed she'd make a great meal. There was plenty more to Tyvni than what met the eye; the close-minded that never gave her a chance never got to see her true worth.

Ilian's hand was shaking when Tyvni's nostrils huffed underneath them. The bare tip grazed against her rounded snout and the dragon twisted her head around them, sniffing and studying. He was a new scent she hadn't discovered yet; he wasn't Rising Eternity or someone she considered a friend. Trained to be a fighter and a companion, Tyvni saw everyone as a threat until she, or Faine, deemed it otherwise.

Like a snake creeping out from underneath a rock, the dragon's tongue slithered from within her mouth and wrapped around Ilian's hand. Not only was the beast fond of using smell, but taste, too. Ilian grimaced at the slime that dripped down his hand and onto his sleeve, the rest dropping to the dirt in a dust-filled puddle.

"What an asset she'd be to Silver Willow," Ilian speculated. "With dragons, we'd rule the kingdom." With his other hand, he reached out and ran his fingers along Tyvni's horns, the points that folded back as a wall of armor for her skull.

"Tyvni is my personal dragon," Faine defended. "She is not to see anything other than the stables at my residence and me on her back. We travel together, we don't fight battles or spy together. She fits the like of a dog or a horse. Nothing more."

Ilian's eyes darted to her, half paying attention and half drooling over the dragon now pushing at his gambeson in search of bits of food he might have left over. He had pocketed an apple hours ago, though she was certain he'd eaten it. Still, Tyvni continued to pry until she nearly knocked the mortal onto his ass.

"You won't even introduce her to the guild? Celestia would be honored to give her all the care she desired."

A heat as strong as lava rose in Faine's chest and she clenched her hands tight enough for her nails to dig into her palms. Tyvni was hers, had always been so, and this was the same occurrence as all the threats Zebulon made to separate them. To sell the beast for a high price to pay off all Faine's debts.

She never changed her response. If he ever sold Tyvni, or Faine found her missing or dead, she'd slit her own throat. He wouldn't get his hundred-year deal, he'd never receive her debts owed, and he'd die a painful death at Kaspar's hands. There was only one beast with a heart that Faine planned on taking with her once these four months were over. Tyvni was that.

Revealing a dragon to a crime guild was like dangling treasure in front of a pirate. Tempting—they drooled and did whatever it took to deem that treasure theirs. To force Tyvni into battle, to make her a beast beyond blood and means...it wasn't her. All she saw use of was to fly and defend when deemed necessary. Faine did everything else.

Faine kneaded her shoulder and said, very quietly, "I think it's time for Tyvni to go back home."

Holding out his hands in a desperate plea, Ilian finally managed to break away from all the studying the dragon was doing. Though she pushed on his back, causing him to stumble forward, Ilian regained his ground, "Come on, let's just take her back to the base. I want Ginevra to meet her. That's it, I promise."

But with a mind already made up, Faine shoved past him and walked to her dragon. She placed the palm of her hand against the beast's rounded chin and tilted her violet eyes to meet her own. "Tyvni, fly home."

It was the only command that made any sense to the dragon, besides stay, eat, attack, roar, and release. Fly home was as simple as her lifting into the air, beating her large wings against the dense trees, and disappearing into the skyline.

A deep rumble of disappointment came from the backs of Tyvni's throat. Faine felt the reverberation on her hand, strong enough to travel up her arm and tickle her shoulder. "Fly home," was all Faine said to the saddened dragon. Her voice was stern enough to make Tyvni step back, huff smoke from her nostrils, and shake out her entire body. Ritual before flying.

Behind her, Faine ignored Ilian's sigh of dispirit. She'd avoided one disaster, but if he decided to run his mouth, there was little chance Faine held the skill to hide a beast that large.

"I'll be home soon," Faine promised. It was a lie, considering she didn't know when she was coming back and why Kaspar hadn't yet found his way into the skies in search of her. Faine pushed down that rising anger for the mission given to her as a second thought, for her closest friends being unable to take care of everything while she was away, for having to live her last four months in Rising Eternity as a member of another crime guild.

It was too exhausting. Every bit. She toyed with the troubles of playing two different lives with a single personality. Keeping her mouth shut in one spot and sharing details at another...her mind was losing all sense of the word 'sanity' when trying to keep track of everything.

Ilian stood at her side when Tyvni beat her wings once, stirring up dirt and dust, and launched herself into the air. It took months to get her to fly without a running start, to get her wings strong enough to do that in the first place, but she mastered it once she put in the effort to try. Treats helped.

Her claws hung limp in the air and the wind from her wings pushed the strands of hair off Faine's chest. They billowed back behind her, the tree branches shook, and Tyvni raised herself above it all to give one final beat of her wings to head east. Not towards the base exactly, but east. That, she did without Faine having to tell her.

It broke her heart to watch Tyvni leave. She imagined cuddling up with her at night when the terrors of the base became too intense. Tyvni wasn't allowed within the base, but there was nothing wrong with Faine disappearing from her chambers to sleep in the stables. Dragons always accepted the company of their owners.

"That's a shame," Ilian sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Maybe you'd actually be considered if you brought a dragon back to the base."

He turned on his heel, leaving her where they stood. That was as strong an insult as any. Faine pattered after him. "Excuse me?" she shouted. "What makes you think my skill alone won't be enough for Celestia to consider me?"

"She will." Ilian raised one shoulder in a half shrug. "But a dragon would've guaranteed your spot. Besides, anyone with a beast that large deserves more consideration than they're already being given. Only the strongest can train a dragon that well. Those beasts don't respond to the most basic of commands, yet Tyvni just proved she's wise enough to stand to orders."

Faine scoffed. There wasn't much he said that she could contest. "She is wise enough to stand to orders—my orders. Not only is she trained to obey, but I trained her to not respond to anyone else. Not even those she trusts the most."

"Who? Your shitty husband? I don't think anyone would respond to him."

"You do realize I have a life outside my husband, right? The fact that I'm here, without him, proves I can stand just as tall without him at my side. My life means more than what has happened behind closed doors." She made a steeple with her fingers; Ilian rolled his eyes.

"I understand you are strong without him; I get that. But dragons—trained—are scarce. I was only suggesting that Silver Willow get a small taste of what she can do," Ilian defended, his voice softer than it was a moment ago.

Faine waited a few seconds before responding. She stared at the dirt and tried to organize the thoughts in her head before speaking. Too many people used dragons to their advantage, and those that didn't cooperate were left to die. Beasts were strung up and eaten just for disobeying an order. "Tyvni is all I have left," she muttered. "I cannot let her get in the hands of someone else. She means too much to lose."

The breeze carried over Ilian's scent of leather and pine. He stared at the side of her face and Faine was brave enough to meet his eye; she'd gotten over being weak years ago. The only thing she regretted about her time with Carlton was how weak she let herself become—how she didn't realize how strong she truly was. Kaspar, along with not caring anymore, opened that door to the true being underneath.

After a moment of staring at each other, both of them silently questioning the past, Ilian cleared his throat. "I can understand that."

The principle of the word 'can' told Faine enough about how far Ilian was willing to go to understand her. Not far enough, apparently.

Faine bowed her head after looking to the sky and not finding Tyvni there. She was already too far to be spotted, and hopefully high enough that hunters or poachers couldn't shoot her down with an arrow. Faine had no way of knowing. She didn't know what was worse—not knowing Tyvni's fate, or not knowing whether anyone was taking care of her in the first place.