The storm parted once they reached Isflean. It headed north, rather than following them down to Pinedon's richest and most popular city. Through the streets, the towering peaks of the high elf palace loomed over the many buildings, mirrored by grey clouds and stars. Isflean's stone was damp, puddles filled the cracks and low points, but the rumbling of thunder was too far for Faine to hear.

They arrived midday and rode through the bustling market, one above ground and not filled with shady figures of all shapes and sizes. Isflean's market clogged itself to the brim with fancy gowns, tailored suits, and shined boots. Heels of unnecessary canes and staffs clicked against the stone, willed by their carriers.

No one paid them any heed. In the Palace District, everyone focused on themselves rather than what was around them. But they believed the entire world was paying attention to other walks of life rather than their own. That was the truth Faine never cared for about the Palace District, the snooty and self-centered lifestream made this part of the city so profitable.

Coins of a glittering gold grasped more power than they should've.

"Does your dragon appear out of nowhere or do we have to retrieve her from your place of residence?" Ilian asked. He steered left, closer to Faine, and made room for an oncoming wagon pulled by a beast that didn't normally face such a disgusting display of weakness. Minotaur. The young were often sold into the life of being no better than a horse, and they knew of no other way to survive.

Faine squinted into the sun. "Somewhere in the middle," she responded. "Follow me, then."

Though the unicorns had walked for hours on end, they hadn't stopped, Faine kicked hers in the flank and forced the beast into a trot. Their stamina was twice as much as that of a horse and was more often used in battle. The horn helped great matters, as did their lean and quick bodies. Faine took that into consideration as she weaved through the crowd. Finally, they paid attention to everything outside their circle and dashed out of the way to avoid being trampled.

Faine led them to the south of the city, then the outskirts that led towards Rising Eternity. The trail was so familiar, she'd walked it thousands of times, but it was foreign to her as any other random route through Pinedon.

"Rumors says that road leads to Rising Eternity's base, another crime guild in the land," Ilian speculated, jerking his chin towards it.

"That can't be the case; I've heard it's farther north. Near the high elf family training grounds for dragons."

"Possibly so. I'm not entirely versed on the area."

Faine was all too glad for that. Instead of heading down the tree-lined trail that led towards Rising Eternity and exposing both of them, she went towards the one place she knew they wouldn't be disturbed. After all, the residence was empty for nearly one hundred years.

The trail headed opposite of Rising Eternity and cradled the south of the city, but deepened into loneliness the farther they went. Green hillsides took over on either side and a winding, pebble-covered trail overtook the mud. This area was untouched by the storm, rightfully so, and as an evening sky crest over, hues of pinks and oranges painted the clouds of gentle fluff.

"Are you certain you know where you're going?" Ilian asked after some time. "I've never been out this far."

"You said you weren't entirely versed on the area. I've lived here all my life, that's quite the difference between our two situations." Faine smirked over at him, at the damp hair on his head and the cloak sticking to his shoulders. The golden clasp rested against his chest, muddled within the white shirt. Neither of them had complained about the storm or the aftermath, but immortals hardly worried about the lick of rain.

It was Ilian, a mortal, that had to worry about being overcome with sickness. But he was more worried about getting his head bitten off by a dragon than what a simple sneeze and sniffle might do to his respiratory system.

"I must say, the most untouched areas of the land hold the most beauty."

They crested over a green hill filled with swaying grasses and the tips of false weeds that blossomed into flowers, tricking even the most critical of beasts to believe they served a purpose other than to overcome the land, and the stables came into view.

Faine's breath caught in her throat. The stone structure, held together with mortar, was completely intact. The wooden fences meant to keep in livestock needed some repair, but everything else...the tiled roof, the large door, the windows—everything was undamaged. Carlton had purchased it for her, he bought it knowing that someday, she'd need a place to live. It was the 'in case' factor if something ever happened to him. And it did. And he bought it so she'd have something to live on.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but for the most part, Faine kept her emotions in.

"Is this yours?" Ilian asked. From the sound of his voice, Faine knew the breath fluttered from his lungs by the noticeable beauty.

Faine nodded. "In a way, yes. This is mine." She puffed out her chest in confidence for knowing it was hers, all it took was a simple signing of her name and that would become truth. She didn't have the keys yet, but she would someday.

It already felt like home.

With all her might, Faine pushed open the large doors to the stables and the scent of fresh straw and dirt floors hit her immediately. She led the unicorn into one of the wooden stalls and shut the gate behind it, relishing in the sound of the metal latch clicking. Every little detail was easy to get used to, something Faine found herself loving, and she ran her hand over every surface imaginable.

On the right wall of the stables was a staircase that led to the second floor and a shut door. The apartment. That, she knew, wouldn't open. Faine wanted the residence—she wanted it now—but she knew she had to wait. Just a little longer.

"Well, give me the grand tour," Ilian said, gesturing around to the high ceilings held up by stone pillars. "You must've been very rich to afford something like this."

Faine snorted. "Something like that. This isn't exactly mine yet, I'm still in the process of signing everything over. Sadly, this place isn't in my name."

"And we're using it to store our unicorns? Is that legal?" The mortal arched a dark brow.

"I have a feeling no one will worry about us being here. As far as I know, this place is abandoned."

Faine stuffed her hands in her back pockets and took in the silence. It was familiar, though she'd never been to the stables before. Had only seen them from a distance when racing the dragons with Kaspar or Nalea. She'd flown over them, had nearly taken out the roof one time with the clawed tip of Tyvni's wing, but had never walked through.

The floors were dirt, and in one corner was an entire stack of straw bales. Freshly placed. Carlton had hired someone to take care of the land, and when he passed, the bank had taken that over. A random mortal knew more about her future home than Faine did, but they were doing everything in their power to maintain the place.

There weren't any supplies, no saddles or bridles, not a single brush or water bucket. Everything was warm and cold all at once, quiet and loud, but it felt enough like home for Faine to never want to leave. She walked back out the large door to the stables and ran her gloved fingers along the wooden fence, rotted from rain.

Faine made a mental note to replace it when she had time. In no way would that hold in Tyvni, but if she wanted horses...or cattle. No, the dragon would see them as a meal rather than companions to eat down the pasture. Goats, even. Faine had to stop herself from diving too deep into possibilities; the land wasn't hers yet.

The horizon stretched out around her; the ocean sparkled in the deep distance. The green hillsides stretched on to other farmlands littered with those cattle and horses, their stables not nearly being as beautiful or prideful as the one that would someday be hers. Behind her, Isflean was a speck in the distance, but it was always said that the towering peaks of the high elf palace were bright and beautiful enough to witness from every corner of Pinedon.

From where Faine was standing, they weren't wrong. And to the east, a cluster of trees signified the line between what road would take her to Rising Eternity and what would take her towards that beautiful city. Making another mental note at that moment, Faine promised herself that she'd never go down that road if she didn't have to. Rising Eternity wasn't meant to play such a large role in her life, but here she was. Second-guessing.

Gravel crunched underneath Ilian's boots and Faine turned her head to find him looking out in that same direction, towards the orange and green trees. Autumn was taking a hold on nature's beauty and suffocating life for another year.

"This is what you purchased for yourself with the crown, isn't it?" he asked softly. "To get away from your husband."

Faine tipped the toe of her boot against a rock and pushed it out of its secure point in the ground. What was underneath was soft, wet dirt. "That's why I wanted the crown," she mumbled. Lying was never easier the more she did it, not with Ilian. He soaked up every word she said because there were so many out there that didn't receive the chance to be believed. But they didn't meet Ilian. The mortal would always believe those that deserved to receive that respect. It hurt Faine to continue with the lie, especially when she looked up to his face and found that his cobalt eyes held more apology than words could ever express. "I had money...I didn't have enough to pay for this."

Her job was to keep lying. She imagined Zebulon over her shoulder, applauding her for the softness in her tone, the pain reflected in honey-brown eyes. Faine thought of her mother, how she'd frown upon taking advantage of an innocent mortal that wished to help her through every invisible trouble.

"I can kill him if that is what you wish."

Faine cringed. "No, that is my job to do. The task lies in my hands and my hands alone. My husband will not lose his life to a stranger, but to the person he ruined for many years."

How believable she made it sound. Crippling darkness rose into her throat and smoke clouded her thoughts—this is what she'd become. A liar, and not to just Ilian. To so many other men and women that believed she was on their side, rather than someone willing and proud to go against them.

Ilian squinted up at the top of the stables. "With that said, I believe you chose a fine residence for yourself. I have to say, I'm jealous."

Faine smiled to the best of her ability. "It'll be a nice vacation home, at least."

A moment passed where he memorized every inch of the stables and she memorized every inch of his face. She slapped the thought away of what it'd be like to have him, to kiss him, to explore him. No, Faine thought. Mortals were behind that wall of things she should never touch, including the body of a man that wasn't ready and the belongings of the high elf family. Ilian was nestled away in a box with the rest of the mortals.

But some part of her kept her eyes on his whenever he looked at her. That amazement didn't fade from his gaze, and instead, his eyes brightened.

Faine sucked in a deep breath, slapped herself internally, and removed a curved horn from the satchel slung across her abdomen. "Are you ready to see a dragon?" she questioned, pushing herself off from the decaying wooden fence.

"Are you certain she will respond to your call? I've heard many tales on dragons, and they don't respond well to order," Ilian followed behind her to the dirt trail. The breeze was blowing towards the east.

As she brought the curved horn to her lips, Faine said, "You don't know Tyvni." Her mouth wrapped around the small tip and she blew three times, then twice, then another three blasts followed by one long, drawn-out call.

It echoed in wavelengths across the land and Faine could imagine the dragon in her stable, rustling herself awake to break out of her pen. If she was correct, it wouldn't take longer than a few minutes.

"That's all it takes?" Ilian asked, turning on his heel to watch her walk towards a patch of grass and sit down. "One simple call?"

"That is our special call. No other dragon will respond to it, for they don't know it. Tyvni does. She'll follow the wavelengths, and when she gets close enough, my smell. That is, unless your reek isn't taking over." Faine braced her hands in the grass behind her and spread out her legs.

He kept his eyes on the skies, but Faine knew where she was coming from. Though the dragon hadn't risen yet. Kaspar was likely there, tending to her or his own beast of nature. Faine bit down on her smile when she thought of the chaos ensuing.

"I will give you five gold coins if that dragon appears. There's no way a beast that large and unpredictable is that tame," Ilian scoffed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Faine caught the hint of wings beating against the evening hues. But a mortal couldn't see that far. Nor could they hear the rush of the wind that such a beast created. "If you're willing to make that deal, I'm more than willing to accept it." She clicked the toes of her boots together. "I'll be five gold coins richer."

"Did you bring me out here to see a dragon or boast about your new residence?"

"Patience, Ilian." Faine laid down in the grass and crossed one ankle over the other. Tyvni's wings were within earshot range. The only fault was that the mortal was dumb enough to turn his back on the incoming dragon. "The world works in mysterious ways, all including the birth of the dragons thousands of years ago. If you so desire, I can tell you all about how Tyvni came to be."

The mortal groaned. "Yes, tell me all about how your precious dragon—that is not here—came to be." She heard his hands slap against his thighs. "If I must reiterate my thoughts from last night, I don't know why I'm here. You're lying here, in a patch of grass, and I'm babysitting you. To make matters worse, you just blew on a horn that summoned nothing."

"Do you possess no faith in me at all?" Faine scrunched up her nose and rested herself onto her elbows. "Dragons are fast travelers but it takes some time to get them from one place to the next."

Ilian's figure blotted out the sun a second later. "Come, we're leaving." He extended his hand down to her, but she batted it away. "Faine, come."

"You'll have to pry my cold, dead body from the ground."

"You're about to be cold and dead here in a minute if you don't cooperate."

Faine grumbled. "You sound like my mother."

Without another word, Ilian leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. Faine made her body go limp, therein by making herself heavier, and the mortal grunted. Tyvni's wings beat loudly in her ears and the smell of her scales, that of blood and ocean water, filled Faine's nose.

As Ilian finally lifted her body off the ground and was practically dragging her to the stables, the world shook underneath them. Tyvni's three-clawed paws slammed against the ground and the clawed tip of her wings hooked into the grass. Ilian whirled, Faine grinned, and the dragon leaned forward, extending her large neck, and unleashed a roar that cleaved apart the foundation of sanity.

A shuddering breath left Ilian's throat. He took two steps back as Tyvni advanced on him, and with a wing, pushed Faine behind her. It was a spectacle to watch the dragon raise her front paw into the air and knock the mortal on his ass, pressing him into the ground. Her claws hooked into the ground next to his head, and Tyvni growled through barred teeth.

Faine leaned against Tyvni's front leg. "I think you owe me five gold coins," she mocked.

"She's going to kill me," he whispered. Tyvni growled again, her entire body tensing, and Ilian winced. At least he wasn't trying to wiggle himself free. That only made her angrier. "This is why you brought me here; for your dragon to kill me."

Faine laughed outright. "You came willingly. But that's not the point. We're riding a dragon, and it's only at the hands of your actions that you're in this position."

It clicked in Ilian's mind, what Tyvni saw, and his face hardened into ice. "I hate you. I officially hate you."

As if understanding, Tyvni barred her sharp teeth closer to his throat. He turned his head to the side, squeezed his eyes shut, and attempted to keep his breathing steady as the dragon pushed harder and harder onto his ribcage. It occurred to Faine just what she could do with a large beast, and Tyvni was the runt. If she had her hands on a dragon like Kaspar's...

"That's no way to speak to your friend," Faine said and clicked her tongue. "I can command for Tyvni to set you free, but only if you give me my five gold coins."

Ilian growled through his teeth, albeit cautiously. His arm scraped along the dirt trail, but underneath Tyvni's careful watch, he fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out five gold coins, clutched tightly in his fist. The dragon pressed harder into his ribcage and sniffed the contents of his hand to ensure he wasn't handing over a deadly poison.

Amusement was an understatement for what Faine felt when she looked at what position he was in. Tyvni's tail slashed along the dirt, mimicking play, and her wings twitched with the need to eat him alive. But it wouldn't happen—not unless Faine commanded it to. They had met only once, and it took much longer for a dragon to make a decision about whether the new scent was friend or enemy.

Was it wrong to assume Tyvni was leaning in one direction over the other? Likely not.

Faine counted out the coins in her palm. "Release, Tyvni," she ordered with a wave of her hand. On instinct, the dragon removed her large paw from Ilian's chest and leaned back on her haunches, towering over the both of them to block out the sun and the sky beyond.

The mortal remained on the ground, legs sprawled before him, and stared up at the head of the dragon that stared down at him. Faine smiled wickedly with the knowledge that they were about to have plenty of fun.