2. The Dragon
A throng of curious townsfolk had already clogged up the entirety of the town square and streets surrounding the small cobblestone courtyard outside the sheriff’s residence. The sheriff and her men had already roped off a landing area for the dragon, and prepared a stage for the ministry’s recruiters to ascend to and babble to the crowd about Tiamat and her love and wrath or whatever. Arxet didn’t really care.
The star of the show had yet to make its appearance, but the onlookers were no less distracted than if the dragon had arrived. Tanenvil’s priest had already climbed on stage and begun leading a sermon. Arxet didn’t know what it was about. He was too focused on slicing and swiping. He’d already collected almost three silver worth of copper coins in the first ten minutes. As boring as the priest was these idiots were rapt at his speech. All the better for the thieves of the world.
Arxet first learned to pick pockets and locks as a teenager in the Utsnari city of Arghold. It had a thriving street urchin population who were more than happy to trade tips and tricks with other idiot kids to get an edge on the rest of the world. The Utsnari orphans had a solid us vs them mentality for a long time until the guards started coming down on them for getting too organized.
Arxet was one of the lucky few who was taught to read before he was abandoned at the age of Eleven. He was more than happy to teach the kids how to write each other secret notes and messages, and to keep track of their numbers better to avoid getting swindled by the adults. Unfortunately Arxet’s teachings to the other urchins allowed them to become more organized, and the city took notice long enough to round up all the ringleaders and make an example of them. Arxet was already long gone when the arrests started. He’d skipped town after collecting the bounty on his own skulduggery teacher, Alguis. An entire gold was enough to let him live the high life for a whole year before he was back to being destitute.
He missed that shiny gold coin. It clinked so beautifully against the stupid little copper coins. He’d pay an entire hundred silver coins for that gold back. Or any other one. Preferably a shiny and new one. The shiny coins were always the best.
Arxet was just slipping a coinpurse out of some unsuspecting dock worker’s bag when he was struck with a gust of wind. THOOM. THOOM. THOOM. A Shadow blocked out the sun and cast the entire square below in red as the sun shone through the wing membranes of the dragon that had swooped down to circle the square. The crowd immediately lost all of their interest in the priest, even he seemed to lose interest in his own droning.
People were cheering, screaming, oohing and aahing, and looking so high up that they were falling backwards to try and get the best view of the beast as it lazily drifted down to the landing zone prepared for it. Its scales were the hue of the finest red wine that Arxet could envision, with a depth and sheen to them that left him feeling as if he were staring into the vastness of space on clear night. Each individual glittering purple scale reflecting the sun was a star, and its patterning around its rippling musculature created twinkles and constellations.
Its wings were big enough to bridge the entire square and then some, with a tall frilled crest to match running down its neck. As it slammed down onto the ground he got a good look at its crown of horns surrounding its brow and cheek. The many lavender wing flaps and frills gave him the impression of a delicate silk dress fluttering in the wind from a clothesline, beckoning and dancing along with the breeze that bent them this way and that.
All his interest in the purse evaporated and blew away in the gusts the colossal wings as they gave one last grand flap across the space, sending food, papers, and dust flying against the throng.
Everyone fell silent as it lifted its nose and surveyed the crowd. A rider was perched on its head, gripping onto the lead spine of its frill and standing straight and confident as the dragon’s head swung and dipped. A sort of carriage-saddle was tied around the dragon’s back as well, a simple wooden design with wings painted around the edges. The great amethyst beast slowly sank into a prostrated position, letting the carriage become horizontal enough for the priests inside to open the doors and shakily step down to the blessed stable cobblestone below on a lowered rope ladder. The rider slid down the neck with ease and flung themself straight onto the stage, landing in a roll before shooting up with a wave.
Arxet missed the rider dropping down, his eyes couldn’t leave the dragon. There was a sudden pit of… dread? Excitement? Hope? In his stomach? He couldn’t identify what he was feeling. Whatever it was he hated it. He felt like he could throw up for no reason if he had to stare at this stupid… majestic… over sized… stunning… fire-breathing… lizard. However, the roiling turmoil in his gut at the unknown emotions had him paralyzed. He couldn’t even look away, let alone run or move on to a new target. He was locked in his own head while the crowd cheered and clapped and roared with excitement. He thought he wouldn’t care. Why did he care so freaking much?
"This isn’t fear. You’ve felt fear before. Fear’s easier to deal with. You can run from fear." Thoughts raced through his mind to try and decode his own chaotic emotions. "So what the hell is this feeling that’s got me-" His train of thought was brought to a screeching halt as the dragon locked eyes on him. "I’m fucked." He’d been caught in the act. He had been crouched behind this behemoth of a dock-hand for several minutes, perfectly still, with his little rat paws still in the stupid bag, wrapped around the even stupider purse!
Naturally, the eyes of the crowd followed the eyes of the dragon, and one by one everyone around Arxet came to stare at him. Caught red pawed. "That’s it. Either I leave town now or I’m-" Once again his thoughts are cut short, but more violently this time. The man in front of him had plowed a fist straight into his left eye, sending him flying. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet and stumbling across the cobblestone to slam the side of his head into a building. He was left sprawled out, delirious, and still with that obnoxious feeling in his stomach. At least he could move now, enough to shakily shift to his knees.
Another blow, this time from a random bystander’s knee. “I know this damned rat! He stole Yorkin’s blade this mornin’!” More and more angry villagers surrounded Arxet. Two burly men hauled him to his feet and began dragging him through the crowd and towards the sheriff. Escalating yells and insults flew across the square at the limp bruised wretch before them. Another fist flew from Arxet’s blurry peripheral and struck him in the gut. He no longer felt the urge to throw up, it was just happening now. There was the muffled yell of ‘my shoes’ in the distance, but the ringing in Arxet’s ears from the repeated blows had him in another world.
Against all odds a single, distinct, low sound cut through the yells of the crowd, the ringing in Arxet’s ears, and the fog in his mind: a growl. The dragon had stepped out of the roped off area designated for it to land and curl up in, and the crowd was scattering in fear as it prowled out into the square, head low and wings flared. The great purple behemoth bared its teeth at Arxet, and suddenly the men at his sides dropped him. Arxet was already too delirious to keep himself up and landed face-down on the cobbles like a corpse. "This is how it ends." He reflected. "Dragon food. Even an ending in something that beautiful seems a pity for someone as great as me…Wait. No. What the hell are you thinking. Get up idiot!"
He fought with all his might to regain his stance, but he couldn’t stop shaking long enough to summon the strength to stand. That damned burning in his stomach had moved to his chest and grown three fold in intensity. Through his bruised and swollen eye the rat made out the jaws of the beast opening. He closed his eyes and tried to look away. The jaws clamped down on his stomach and the tongue snaked out to pull him inside. He let himself hang limp as he felt the neck crane up and swing back over the courtyard, leaving his right leg and tail dangling free in the open air. Outside he could feel the sway of the world around him as the dragon stomped away.
Resistance at this point would be useless. He was in the jaws of the dragon. There was no escape from that, even if he could muster his strength and suppress the swirling nexus of emotion tearing away at his very core. He’d die here. He wouldn’t ever get away. It was inconceivable, even for a master thief like him. It was impossible. There was no way-
The jaws suddenly released him.
He fell down into someone’s waiting arms below the maw. He was coated in soaked to the bone in hot, viscous, stinking dragon drool. He shuddered at the sensation of his fur sticking to his clothes and to whoever was holding him. “Hold still, friend” An amused woman’s voice greeted Arxet’s ears. “I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
A hand set against his head, and then his stomach, and the pain in both places faded away to normalcy. He warily cracked a single eye open to see what kind of situation he’d found himself in.
The rider was crouched over him on her knees, helmet now removed. Underneath the helm was a catfolk, a lynx to be precise. Instead of the anger Arxet had anticipated he found a confusing mix of caring and smugness. “You’re in one piece. First time being picked up by a dragon?”
Arxet’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a goldfish. He was sure he was dead. He should be dead. The dragon was gonna eat him. Did the rider get it under control somehow? Was he still under arrest? He gathered the mental threads of his mind and attempted to weave them into something coherent. “Dragon. Gone?”
Speak of the dragon and it will appear. Arxet found himself eye to eye with it. Each of its glittering yellow eyes were bigger than his head, and he felt himself shrinking away from them involuntarily. The feeling was back tenfold. Why was it back? Why was it worse? These emotions were being unreasonable with him.
“No, Amjazel is still worried about-” The rider was interrupted as the dragon laid down by the pair and curled its frilled tail around them both. A paw with claws as big as he was scooped Arxet up and deposited him gently against the dragon’s underbelly with expert precision. The dragon’s mouth rushed him again, and once again Arxet braced himself for imminent ingestion-
To instead be greeted with a long, prolonged lick across his entire body. He gasped as it finally lifted from his face. The huge wet spiny mass was suffocating. He desperately tried to wipe the slobber from his face, coughing and hacking and blowing it out of his nose. The dragon merely huffed at the display, and if Arxet didn’t know better he’d think he saw a bit of mischief in its eyes. It proceeded to give him a full tongue bath against his will. The whole time he fought and flailed and attempted to escape, but kept being pulled back in. All of his fur was standing on end and pushed against the grain, he struggled to breath between each lap of the tongue. To the side he could hear the rider laughing the display.
“Looks like you’ve chosen already? It’s only our first stop. I’m sure there’s-” She quieted down as the dragon blew a bit of smoke between its teeth in her direction. “Well, I guess we’d best get back home then.”
Home? Where was home? What was going on. “W-wait. Don’t I get a trial? A lawyer? I can afford a lawyer! You can’t prove-” He was silenced with another lick.
“You’re not in trouble, friend. She just likes you. You’re coming back to Fellrock with us.” The rider reached over and patted his head between licks, leaving a long strand of saliva trailing from his scalp to her hand.