"I forgot to ask, you aren't scared of heights are you?"

"You forgot to ask? You know, I've never had to confront that question while dangling for my life."

Orion raised his head to glare at Laurel, only to quickly change his mind as his stomach took another deep lurch. After a rough wake up call, her chipper voice was the last thing he wanted to hear. So he forced himself to stare at the tower they were currently hurtling towards.

"But you climb trees, don't you?

Orion sighed, "I know this might be hard to believe but clinging onto a pigeon's foot is not the same as climbing trees."

He wriggled, lodging himself squarely in the centre of her claws and desperately hoped that Romril's spells would hold. The plan was straightforward, Orion would sneak into the palace in the form of a lizard and Laurel would be his guide. But now, when faced with a mob of rowdy birds and crumbling parapet ledges, Orion regretted not pushing further.

Mottled stone surged before his vision and he scrambled up Laurel's leg. She yelped and shook him off, hurling him into the wall. Orion scrambled, tail flailing, and latched onto the ledge lest he find himself tumbling towards the ground. He grunted, thankful for the grip provided by his lizard feed and quickly spun around to check if all his limbs were attached.

The sun had yet to fully rise but high on the ledge of the tower wall, Orion could make out most of Alstra and its expansive domain. It struck him, and he finally understood why his Aunt Reuna had often referred to the citadel as a place of manicured beauty.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I beg your pardon?" Orion turned to see the elf glaring at him and feathers rustling, she picked him up and placed him squarely on the stone path that paved the outer wall.

"Climbing my leg without warning was a dangerous thing to do. I could have dropped you onto the ground. Then what would we do? I'd have killed a boy who's yet to see the world."

Orion laughed. "I see you've finally grown a conscience."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"You worry about killing me yet you won't let me go."

"That is not a decision that I, or anyone can make." Laurel sighed and gestured to his front leg with her beak and Orion didn't have to look down to know what she was referring to. When Romril had begun his transformation, Orion had a glimmer of hope that the queen's bracelet would slide off and onto the ground. But the queen had been disappointingly clever and the bracelet had altered itself into a dark band just above his claw.

He had no escape from her watchful eye.

There was a flurry of movement and when Orion glanced over. Laurel had taken a swipe at a crow who had hopped over to investigate Orion's form. It cawed before rising, taking to the skies with a rude look in its eye.

"I'm going to take that as a sign that you need to get inside."

"What–"

"I may not have much control over your condition, but by the very least, I won't get you killed. You have my promise."

With one swift scoop, Laurel had grabbed him in her beak and fluttered towards a thick wooden door. Its underside loomed before him and suddenly Orion was struck by the desire to run for the nearest hole and hide. They had no plan, not even a map, and the Dilid queen had made it unbearably clear that failure was not an option.

He took a deep breath to steady his uneven heartbeat. Then a gentle prod on his tail made him jump and when he spun around, he caught sight of Laurel with her foot in the air. Unblinking, she prodded him again.

"Are you trying to stuff me under the door?"

"No I–" Laurel hopped two steps back, spluttering all the way. "I thought you might have needed some help. The gap is a little...small."

Orion blinked. "Small? The gap is easily tall enough for two of me to squeeze through."

"You can never be too sure!"

"I..." Orion pondered for a few moments before nodding and mumbling a short word of thanks. He gave her a lacklustre wave with his mottled claw and quickly scuttled under the door and into the darkness beyond.

"Remember not to loiter! The spell won't hold beyond a couple of hours." Laurel's voice carried easily under the gap and Orion winced.

He did appreciate her care, however odd and confusing it may be. Earlier, when she'd slathered more foul smelling ointment on his eye, he had been reminded of the many times his Aunt Reuna had done the same after another one of his misadventures. Orion smiled. If they ever did meet, Reuna and Laurel would find it easy to get along.

Clambering down the tower was easier said than done. And as he marched tirelessly along the wall, Orion's stomach lurched with each step. Each stone extended endlessly before him and with his chest so close to the ground, he found it nearly impossible to discern which direction to move in. So he aimed his head downwards and followed the spots of light created by the windows intermittently constructed in the walls.

Even still Orion moved swiftly, ignoring the overwhelmingly musty scent of mildew and the soft squelch of moss. Up close, the green growths were an outpouring of lush greens and speckles of pink. And Orion found himself slowing to admire the particularly bushy ones. Not once in his life had even considered what thrived beneath the damp surfaces of the mosses that often thrived alongside his home.

As he neared the bottom, the heavy thud of leather boots resounded through the air, and with each thump, he felt a beat pound through his heart. Gingerly, he crawled to the edge of the wall and looked out. With any luck, pinky sized lizards were a common sight and accidentally being spotted would not raise any alarms. He watched as three shadows danced beneath the crack of the door. Voices murmured and darting, Orion raced towards the ground to listen in from under the door.

"...unacceptable for someone with your ambitions."

"I've already provided sufficient explanation. Killian was blasting me for another issue by the stables when Grimm thundered in to confront him about honour on the training grounds–"

The second voice, although gravelly with a hint of exhaustion and age, was much softer than the first. And when Orion peeked out from beneath the door, he blanched. Two men and a woman stood huddled together and the shortest of the three, a dark haired man with streaks of silver running though his hair, stood with his arms folded. With each word he spoke, he jabbed a finger at the woman's gleaming breastplate.

"If I recall, you were the one who proclaimed that we had no time for petty arguments and distractions."

The woman nodded."I did. But I confronted Novious about his tardiness because, as his superior, it is my responsibility to ensure that he is capable of carrying out his duties."

Orion inched towards the left where down the hall, he could just make out the soft glow of what was hopefully the main hallway.

"Duties?" The taller man spluttered and took two steps forward.

"Yes, duties. With the tournaments coming up soon, and the arrival of new guests, it is imperative that we remain on top of everything. Especially with those rumours going around..."

Rumours? Orion tilted his head and upon deciding that the conversation wouldn't provide him with the information he needed, he began to crawl along the edges of the wall towards the golden light that loomed many paces away.

He'd barely taken two steps when a loud thud made him jump. Orion ducked and raced to hide beneath the door once again. From the safety of battered wood, he watched as the woman and older man marched steadily down the hall, leaving a fuming Novious to watch a locked doorway on his own.

Once silence settled in again, Orion lifted his foot, adrenaline surging as he prepared to dart out once again. Then he paused and glanced back up the stairs behind him. The guards were clearly stationed to monitor this doorway, yet no one had seen any use in putting them up top. He frowned, tongue flicking, then he straightened up with a quick nod. He would hope that this doorway would remain unguarded. Edona forbid that Romril's spell were to wear off too early but knowing that all he had to do was slip beneath this door to find safety eased his jumping nerves.

Once out in the main hall, Orion was stunned at the copious draperies and gilded paintings all in the royal colours of red and gold. Each one depicted an individual that, as his aunt Niamh liked to say, had an expression that could make milk curdle. He gawked at the arrogance that lingered behind their painted eyes and promised himself to never stoop to their level.

But it was the tall silver vases that eased his thundering heart. Like urns, they dotted the hall at even intervals and Orion was grateful to find that the prickly red flowers jutting awkwardly over their edges made for the perfect hiding places.

As he moved quickly between the flowers, Orion made sure to observe the rare few guards standing attentively by the massive windows. Their sheathed blades gleamed in the light, and Orion was struck by how warm the lighting felt in contrast to the ornate silver sconces that lined the walls. Skilled hands had easily forged the soft metal into the shapes of complex flowers and lines. Yet the globs of sallow candle wax and tarnished spots had reshaped the flickering shadows to take on the form of screaming gryphons. Orion shuddered and forced himself to look away. Somehow he didn't think the effect was an accident.

After what felt like an eternity of peering into silent rooms and dodging sullen feet, Orion paused behind a particularly woolly flower to catch his breath. Outside, the sun had reached its peak and he had yet to discover any clue that would point him towards his goal. His breath hounded every step, and with a sigh, he pushed his thoughts of failure to the side.

Romril had harped on endlessly about the importance of being prepared. Yet not once during his orders had he produced a map of the castle or the secrets that lay within. Orion rolled his scaly eyes. It was evident that the only shortsightedness that the elf could stomach was his own.

But perhaps all was not lost. After a moment's thought, and a quick snack on a passing fly, Orion's thoughts began to pool neatly in his head. The Dilid had sent him after a necklace that apparently held the power to move oceans and make the sky tremble.

Upon hearing that, Orion had felt his blood go cold. He had grown up hearing tales of the king's ruthlessness along with his fear of magic. But Niamh had also called the king a coward, a rabbit in a lion's skin.

Paranoia is the downfall of men. And if that were true, then an object like the Dillid's necklace would be something that the king would be sure to keep with him as leverage.

So perhaps, the most logical place to start looking for it would be in the castle's treasury. As for where it could be, he could only assume the stronghold would be sequestered somewhere far beneath the castle.

Why else would Niamh often compare humans to goblins?

In his excitement, he lurched forward only to stop when his foothold shuddered and released a small cloud of pollen. Curious, Orion let it settle on his claw and he admired the yellow sheen it cast upon him. 

It was gold. Gold like the sun and the blood his aunt's horse had once shed. The pollen caught the light. His mind spun. Gold like the earrings his aunt Reuna used to cry over when she'd put him to bed. Orion shook his head and beat those thoughts to the side. Distractions would not serve him well.