The room, which was really nothing more than two small beds, a closet, and a table at the far end of the room, was cool, but Devin was snug and warm. Through the window, he could see the light of the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. To Devin, it was not quite morning, nor was it nighttime. These were the hours where he liked to simply drift.

A figure blocked his view, staring down at him.

"Get up," Conor said, his own tiredness evident in his voice.

Devin's quiet world was suddenly shattered. "Thas no way to speak to a prince," he complained, his words slurring together. He shimmied deeper into the warmth of the blankets.

Conor attempted to tug them away from him, but he caught them with a strong grip... which unfortunately took too much adrenaline to stay sleepy. Devin let out a pathetic whining noise. "You suck." He threw the blankets to the side, unhappily dragging himself out of bed.

"Sometimes," Conor agreed, turning away to approach his bag of supplies and clothes. Devin watched him for a moment, then flushed as he realized he probably shouldn't watch Conor get dressed. He looked away immediately, rubbing his eyes instead. He should probably get dressed too, Devin thought, but first, he looked out the window for a moment, watching the town reawaken. Now that he was visiting once more, he realized that while the town itself looked very monotone and boring, the people were quite the treat.

Devin wandered off from the window, stretching his arms out over his head as he made his way to his bag.

"Ready to go?" Conor asked, barging into the stable. Devin was not startled at all by the movement, already used to the other boy, but the stable girl jumped, head snapping towards the entrance. Conor waved to her apologetically.

"Readier than you are." Devin had just finished tightening his horses' girth when Conor asked. He gestured to Conor's horse, which was already tacked up and waiting rather impatiently.

"Sorry," Conor said meekly, "I got caught up talking to the innkeeper."

"That's in character." Devin swung the reins over the horse's neck, leading him out of the stall and the stable.

Conor followed soon after, a questionable smile on his face.

"What has you so happy?" Devin asked curiously. Conor turned to him, as if concerned as to why he was not.

"We have a lead, Devin!" he exclaimed. "Is that not something to be rather happy about?"

Devin shrugged, nudging his horse forward. "I get happy about chocolate covered strawberries and bacon, so I wouldn't know," he said over his shoulder. He thought he heard Conor chuckle, and it made him smile a little.

The boys had set their path towards Glengavin after Devin had confirmed it was exactly what they should be looking for. The happenings there interested him, but also worried him. As Conor had noted the previous night, Glengavin had no ways of defending themselves if something serious were to ensue, nor could anyone assist them, being so far up in the mountains.

One thing kept troubling Devin throughout the entire day. He still had no idea how he and Conor would face this dragon, if it was even there. They were going off of a dream, for crying out loud. A very vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless.

"Why is Dukenshire called Dukenshire if it's ruled over by a Baron?"

Tellun help him.

Devin raised his eyes to the sky in annoyance. "You're an adventurer, are you not? Shouldn't you know this stuff?" he asked, a little judgmentally.

"Hey, I look for new places to check out and write about them. I'm no historian."

"This may come as some surprise to you," Devin said very softly, leaning towards the other boy, "but I'm not either."

Conor shrugged. "Do you know or not?"

Devin's cheeks reddened. "Some obscure Duke back in the day founded it, ruled over it, then when he got too old and sick to take care of it, gave it to his friend, a Knight, instead of his son with the exception that he wouldn't be able to keep the "Duke" title."

Conor seemed to be holding back a laugh. "More of a historian than me."

"Shut up."

Their day continued as usual, switching between walking and riding. They passed by rock formations, thick forests, glistening lakes and wide-eyed animals. Every now and then, one of them would point out a pretty landscape to the other with a wide smile.

Devin knew he should feel fear, maybe even just a twinge of nervousness, but he felt strangely at ease. Besides for the pain of sitting in the saddle for hours, there was a certain kind of lightness to his mood that he hadn't felt in a while.

"Have you ever been to Glengavin?" Devin asked suddenly.

Conor tilted his head. "I've always wanted to go, but getting there has always been the issue. Have you ever been?" He turned his attention to his friend, expression curious.

Devin didn't meet his eye, keeping it on the path ahead of them. "No, I've never been," he said, sounding a little disappointed. "Too dangerous for the royal family, they said," he added sourly.

Conor gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. "That just means you get to prove them wrong, Dev."

There was silence for a few beats.

"Dev?" Devin repeated, eyebrows raised.

Conor's cheeks reddened. "It's fine if I call you that, right? Since I consider you my friend, and all..."

Devin flexed his fingers, opened his mouth to respond, shut it. He began again, an amused smile creeping up on his lips. "Yeah," he replied at last, "that's fine. Because we're friends."

The tension in Conor's shoulders vanished as a relieved expression appeared on his face.

"As long as I get to make up a nickname for you too."

He frowned, glaring at the prince, who had a very mischievous grin on his face.

"Do your worst," Conor muttered.

Devin practically cackled. "Sheepboy."

"No."

"Conny."

"Absolutely not."

Devin paused, glancing at him. Conor stared back.

"Sweetums."

Conor tipped his head to the sky and groaned.

"You haven't said no, therefore you are now sweetums." Devin chuckled in his victory, watching as Conor rode ahead in his embarrassment. He could guess quite well that the other boy was rather regretting his decision. Even so, the two were left grinning to themselves after the interaction.

Being too far away to nestle down in an inn, the two tied their horses' reins to a tree and began to make camp in a quiet little clearing. The trees towered over them, giving them protection from any precipitation that may hit throughout the night.

"We were both smart enough to bring blankets, right?" Conor asked, stretching out his arms as Devin loosened the girths on their horses.

"I'd hope so," Devin said in response, "the north is not for the faint of heart."

Conor nodded. "I can agree." Devin barely heard him reply.

"You take first watch," Conor called over his shoulder as he dug a blanket out of his pack, wrapping it around himself.

Devin watched him for a moment, then sat down quietly, his back to the bark of a tree. "Before you go to sleep, Conor," he said softly, "what do you plan to do when we find this thing?"

Conor did not need to ask what "this thing" was. He let out a sigh. "To be honest, I'm not sure." He looked over to where his friend sat, a troubled frown on his face. "Dragons don't understand human tongue, do they?" When Devin shook his head, he went on. "Then I suppose we can't just reason with it. And we don't have the strength to fight it."

Devin drew his knees up to his chest, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I guess we'll just have to outsmart it," Conor concluded at last.

"How do you outsmart a dragon?" Devin blurted out with more force than intended.

Conor drew his lips into a thin line. "Still figuring that one out."

Devin let out a sharp puff of air. "Alright," he murmured. "Go to sleep."

Conor hummed in response, rolling over onto his side. Devin clutched his dagger in his hand, letting out a breath that had been reluctant to leave his lungs. With one last look at his companion, he began to survey the forest around them and the stars that just shined bright enough to be seen through the gaps in the leaves.