3. The Offer
I’m so fucked. Arxet sat shivering in the carriage on the dragon’s back. Amjazel, as it turned out the dragon’s name was, had not let up on her tongue bath for nearly ten minutes. Not a single inch of fur or tail was spared. The poor soggy rat had no idea what finally let the dragon decide she was done, as the tonguing had proceeded long after he was certainly far past ‘clean’.
The rider wandered off at some point in his ten minutes of torment. Maybe to calm the crowd or say something to the priests was his best guess. She returned shortly after Amjazel had finished her ministrations and dragged the rat’s limp soggy body up into the saddle, buckled him in, and climbed back down.
Arxet didn’t dare move. He didn’t know what the dragon wanted with him. Was he a meal for later? A prisoner to be made an example of? A pet? A servant? Theories clashed in his mind, each one more horrible and preposterous than the last. There was no escape from the sheer terror of the situation, as every bit of the world around him reminded him of it. The dragon’s breathing vibrated the entire tiny benched room on her back, and gently raised and lowered it with the rhythm of her inhales and exhales. Arxet was sure he could even feel her heartbeat through the floorboards.
At least he was being given a chance to dry off. Not that it was much of an improvement. His fur was now stiff and bristly, his clothes were all sticking to him wrong, and he stank to the heavens. He wasn’t sure the smokey stench of dragon saliva would ever go away.
He was a moment’s notice from trying to book it and get away from the dragon, but even he knew better than that. He wouldn’t make it two blocks before the behemoth would catch him again and probably give him another ‘bath.’ He couldn’t even go indoors or underground to get away from her with the rider in tow. That lynx would just follow him in and probably use his soggy ass to wipe the floor like a mop if he tried. No, the only option was to wait it out and see how bad off he was. The buckle across his lap wasn’t exactly a restraint. He could undo it himself. It didn’t look like he was under arrest. So why had he been grabbed, slobbered all over, and forced into the carriage?
At least the dragon’s body heat kept the carriage reasonably warm. If he were outside in the chilled early spring air while this wet he’d be miserable. No, stop it. Don’t thank the dragon for keeping you warm after soaking you through like this! We need to find a way out of this! He unbuckled and wobbled to his feet, intent on figuring out some kind of escape. Between the confusing tangle of feelings in his chest, the adrenaline leaving his system, and the slight swaying of the carriage to match Amjazel’s breathing he immediately collapsed against the door with a painful THUD.
Outside he overheard the dragon make a groan or growl of some kind, and the sound of the rider’s boots on the cobblestone fast approached.
Shit, they can’t see that I was trying to escape. Gotta get back in the- The door flew open. The rider had scaled the dragon’s side faster than Arxet knew possible. “Okay there, friend? You look a little shaken up.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve just been nearly eaten, used as a piece of candy, and then confined against my will!”
The lynx smirks again and lifts Arxet back to his feet. “She was never going to eat you. She saved you from those townsfolk. And she wasn’t licking you for your taste, she was scent-marking you.”
“SCENTMARKING? WHAT DO YOU-” Arxet grunts as he’s shoved back down into the seat.
“Yes, scent-marking. Each dragon’s smoke has a slight tinge of a personal scent to it that also transfers to their saliva.” She lifted the rat’s arms and buckled him back into the bench.
“But why! I’m not a fence post for a dog to piss on!” His tail whipped back and forth with indignation. No one should be able to claim him like that! Not even a dragon!
“She likes you. She’s putting you through rider training.” The holy warrior shrugged as if this were a normal occurrence and began buckling herself in. “I’m Emrin, Amjazel’s rider of 129 years. It’s likely you and I will be working pretty closely together.”
Rider training? For a cold-marked delinquent orphan? There had to be some catch or mistake. Why in the world would this dragon take interest in Arxet? There had to be rules against this. “I’m not what you’re lookin’ for. I’m a thief. You saw. I’m coldmarked to boot. What would the ministry want with a wretch like me?” The entire carriage shook as Amjazel huffed repeatedly. Arxet’s eyes bulge and he grabbed one of the handles on the side of the interior and tried not to fall out of his seat.
“Don’t look so scared. She’s just laughing. And the ministry hasn’t cared about coldmarks in… decades I wanna say.” Not very long then for a millennia old organization. “You got touched by cold magic as a kid. Who cares. Ninazu himself isn’t going to crawl out of your eye socket and ravage the land with death and cover the sun.”
Laughing? A dragon was laughing at him? Arxet didn’t know whether to be offended or confused. “But the ministry and riders are supposed to be volunteer only! I haven’t volunteered for shit!”
“That’s true, yes. Most people that go through rider training volunteered. But every spring a few dragons choose to go out and find people to bring back themselves. People who they see something in. It’s a great honor. Amjazel sees something in you that she likes.” She smiled to punctuate. It was the first fully genuine smile Arxet had seen from her. There was no mocking sense of superiority, no humor, she seemed to truly mean that this twenty ton hulk of scales and fire saw something in Arxet.
He still didn’t trust it though. “I still don’t want this though. It’ll interfere with… my goals.”
“What are your goals then?” Emrin leans forward, the stupid caring genuine smile still plastered across her fuzzy mug. “I’m sure there’s some way that this training will benefit you for them.”
“I- well.” Arxet’s first mistake was expecting everyone to be as apathetic of others as he was. “I want to save up and get on a caravan to a bigger city, one where I can just blend in and live my life.”
“Perfect. We’re taking you back to Fellrock. It’s the biggest city on the continent. Won’t find anywhere better.” She crossed her arms and put her feet up on the bench to Arxet’s right.
“And- and I want to improve my living situation. Stop living off scraps. Live in the luxury I know I deserve!” He bristled at the cat. Her earnestness was getting to him.
“Rider training includes three hots and a cot, I have a feeling that’s better than where you are now judging by the fact you have to pickpocket, and by the state of your clothes. Once you graduate you’ll never have to want for anything. It can be a comfortable life depending on who you bond with.” She knew she was backing him into a corner. Her obnoxious genuine smile was getting bigger all the second.
“If I get bonded you mean! Hundreds of people volunteer every year, and there’s never that many dragons!” He was sure he had her on this one.
“You weren’t a volunteer though. If a dragon chooses you for training you’re basically guaranteed a bond.” She patted his knee in an attempt to be comforting. Arxet read it as condescending instead.
“What, so I’m replacing you? Is that why she’s chosen me? You gettin’ fired? Fuck up somewhere?” Her attitude was really starting to piss him off. Maybe if he could get a rise out of her he could see what’s really going on.
“No, nothing like that. If I’d messed up that badly I probably would already be dead. She just believes that you have unique potential is all. Any other doubts?”
“I need to get back at some people! I doubt the church will allow that!” He jabbed a finger at her. “With your whole holier than thou attitude some lowly rat getting his payback seems like a bad look!”
“No. Once you graduate you can choose to leave. Depending on how you go about it you might even still get perks. Not to mention the combat and magic training included in your course. You could even still get your revenge if you make your case well enough. Dragons don’t forgive grudges easily.” She leaned back further in the bench and put her hands behind her head. “Am I winning you over?” The battle was won. Arxet would never have another chance to learn magic. That wasn’t something just anyone could find a teacher for.
The two stared at each other in absolute silence for what felt like an eternity. Emrin had achieved a decisive victory in this battle of wits. All she had to do was wait for Arxet to admit it.
He hated admitting things. “And if I walk away now?”
“You’re gonna say no to a dragon who just saved you from an angry mob? An angry mob that is probably still ready to tear you to shreds if you move out of her sight? You walk back out there you might not make it out of town, with or without caravan money.”
Dammit. She was right. He was fucked. The entire town caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. It really was ride or die.
“Fine. But I’m resigning as soon as I make it out of training.” He glared at a smudge of mud on the floor, refusing to look his opponent in the eye.
“That’s your choice.” She slapped the side of the carriage interior. “Ready to go, Am!”
The entire room tipped forward suddenly as the dragon shot to her haunches. Arxet heard the unfurling of wings outside the carriage. Oh no. I’m not ready for this. Amjazel pushed off of the ground with her legs, and brought her wings down in a single flap that shot her into the air like an arrow. Arxet’s hand was back on the handle. He couldn’t help but scream as the world around him shook and quaked. Every flap jostled him about, the seatbelt barely held him in place. “OH FUCK. OH TIAMAT HELP ME!”
“No need, one of her daughters is already here for you, friend!” Emrin was smiling wider than ever, she and the dragon laughing in unison.