“There! I see Princess!”

  Bartlett pointed towards a large figure amidst the ruins of Aldimar. The pink-scaled dragon, Henriettta, was sitting near the docks with several people watching the bay. The dark miasma that covered the sand and the sea was all but gone, leaving behind a clear, blue sea as it usually was.

  He rode a dragon alongside Eliani, being led by a wyvern rider who reported the commotion that happened in the town half a day ago. The wyvern rider, who introduced herself as Adeline Rochefort, was one of the witnesses of the attacks before she was forced to disengage once the area became too dangerous for her. Her report came just as a massive explosion, visible from Camarth castle, became visible to the surprised adventurers, prompting them to fly with a group of dragon riders to get to Aldimar as fast as they could. They reached the town in the aftermath of the battle, 5 hours since the explosion.

  Bartlett could see a boat with a body in it, sitting on the sand near where the dragon was. The boat was one of the best boats that was left unscathed from the destruction of the town, judging from the harrowing view from the sky. Most of the bay area, where the restaurants and entertainment were situated, were left mostly unscathed. The only visible damage were singed walls and splintered woods.

  “Oh, no,” said Eliani behind him. Her tone was that of surprise and horror. Her Kal’Adrean eyes were much sharper than a human’s, so she could probably see who was on the boat. Her reaction meant that the person was familiar, and that worried Bartlett.

  “Who?” asked Bartlett, half-hoping that it wasn’t who he thought he was.

  “It’s….” She choked. “It’s Rodvar.”

  Bartlett could feel himself sagging upon hearing what Eliani said.

  “Put us near the beach!” he commanded the rider. “Please, rider!”

  The desperation was clear in Bartlett’s voice, which prompted the rider to follow his command. They landed near the beach, drawing attention to the people around the boat. There were a dozen of them, along with some gnolls and a lone feathered reptilian humanoid among them. They did not seem to be worried about his presence.

  Bartlett jumped off the dragon’s back the moment he deemed it safe enough to before immediately running towards the crowd. Eliani followed, as was Grant, who was riding the wyvern. They got to the boat to see the body of a familiar dwarf, their old friend, laid to rest on some hay and flammable materials, the only ones they could get in the aftermath of the destruction. There was no one who could dress him in funerary garb, so he was still wearing the blacksmith apron he wore last. His face was cleaned from blood and grime.

  "Oh my god, Rodvar," said Bartlett, grabbing the side of the boat, his face full of anguish. "Why?"

  “Bartlett,” said Henrietta. “I’m sorry. I was too late. He was mortally wounded when I woke up."

  “It’s not your fault, Princess,” said Bartlett. "You were close to death's door yourself."

  He then realized that Henrietta talked freely in front of several onlookers. His wide-eyed expression told Henrietta his feelings.

  “It’s fine,” said Henrietta upon noticing his bewildered expression. “There is no point keeping that a secret. I told everyone who I really am.”

  “Oh,” said Bartlett. “And Thomas?”

  “I’m right here,” replied Thomas, showing himself from behind the dragon. He was covered in bandages, with the most prominent ones being his left arm on a sling and the one wrapping his forehead. In fact, everyone was injured to a certain degree, even Henrietta, whose leg wound reopened when she forced her body against the battle. It had been bandaged quite hastily.

  “Who did this?” asked Bartlett.

  “A lich,” said Thomas. “He attacked us out of nowhere with an army of Pale Wraiths and deep elves. If it wasn’t for Henrietta, we wouldn’t even be here.”

  “You should’ve seen what she’s capable off,” said the feathered reptilian. “Still, we could’ve gone without having to blow the whole town off.”

  The newcomers looked at him in surprise and reacted defensively. Eliani reached to one of her daggers.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “I’m Sanatasi, a Dromedian. I haven’t told you my real name, have I, Bartlett? As for why I'm here instead of rotting inside a jail cell, it's a long story."

  “All that can wait,” said one of the townspeople. “Since you’re here, you should do the honor, Bartlett.”

  Bartlett nodded and walked towards the boat, where Rodvar’s body laid with his hands at rest. A giant hammer rested on his body. His old friends recognized it as his most prized hammer. It was also the last weapon he wielded during the attack.

  The man could not believe that Rodvar died. He looked at the face of the dwarf, resting for eternity in peace. Eliani and Grant stood beside Bartlett, both also in disbelief and could only stare at the body. They stood there in silence for a minute before Grant patted Bartlett’s shoulder, nodding at him with a sad expression.

  It was time for the burial.

  His friends put their hands on his body, signifying both respect and goodbye. Eliani kissed Rodvar on the forehead to convey her goodbyes in silence. Then, they pushed the boat out towards the now-purified sea. Despite the season, the sea was covered with fog, yet still quite visible.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  When the boat got far enough from the shore, an archer lit the tip of his arrow on fire before shooting it at the boat. The arrow hit the boat, lighting it and the hay underneath Rodvar on fire, providing a funeral pyre for the deceased dwarf.

  The assembled group of people watched as the boat, and Rodvar’s body within it, was consumed by fire. It was an emotional scene, with Boluti’s wife crying on her husband’s shoulders. The gnolls were Rodvar’s assistants, a subtle sign of his care and respect of them. The rest simply watched in silence before they all left the shores one by one.

  In the end, only Rodvar’s closest acquaintances and friends stayed behind, watching as the sun set and the boat sank. By this time, darkness had already set, with the only light they had being the cleanup crew’s leftover torches.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” said Grant. “I never got to meet with him face-to-face since Rogaria. Letters were all we had, and I longed to see everyone together again. Fate just can't give us a break, huh?"

  “It’s better late than never, Grant,” said Bartlett, squeezing his half-elf friend’s shoulder.

  “It’s just…he’s the most fulfilled in life. He retired from adventuring and made peace with it. Why can't he die in peace? He earned it. We're supposed to be the one….”

  “Our fate is never set in stone,” interrupted Eliani. “You always think that you will be with them for a very long time, not realizing that one day, they will be gone. All we can do is cherish the time we had together, and hoped that it would last."

  Her old friends looked at her, impressed by how the cheetah woman could come up with such a profound quote. They, especially Bartlett, knew the reason why she accepted Rodvar's death so easily. This was not the first time she lost a loved one. The others lost a friend a long time ago. She lost a family.

  “I’m sure Okem’s somewhere out there, welcoming him,” said Grant. “If dwarven afterlife is the same with the Kal’Adre’s.”

  Eliani chirped. “We can only hope.”

  As the three continued staring at the purified sea, talking among themselves, Henrietta turned towards Sanatasi. Part of her still could not trust the Dromedian just because of how he looked. Part of her also understood that it was unfair to Sanatasi, who risked his own safety helping Thomas survive. They did not talk with one another ever since the lich’s defeat, but in such a situation, perhaps it would be best for them to straighten things out with one another.

  “I want to thank you,” said Henrietta. “For saving my brother.”

  “Don’t mention it,” said Sanatasi. “What those Sybarians did were wrong, but I was still at fault for not opposing it. Which is why I’m sorry, both for you and your brother.”

  Thomas had heard the story during their conversation after Sanatasi’s true form was revealed, so he accepted it without hesitation. Henrietta was still thinking about it. It did not take long for her, though.

  “Saving my brother is apology enough,” said Henrietta. “It might take a while for me to accept you for what you are, Sanatasi, but I’m sure time will tell.”

  Sanatasi’s feathers went plump. He was feeling glad.

  Soon, everyone left the beach, intending to assess the situation in the aftermath of the battle. Bartlett went straight to his house, wanting the check it. As he feared, it was caught in the explosion, one that he learned was caused by Henrietta, who was limping towards him.

  “I spent my fortune on this house…,” he lamented.

  “Sorry. I, uh…didn’t know this is your house,” said an apologetic Henrietta.

  Bartlett took a deep breath, then exhaled. “You did what you have to do,” he said.

  “Will the coins I gave you cover the cost?”

  “Not…quite. Aldimar was a resort town. Everything here’s expensive. I only got the house because Rodvar helped negotiate the price. I spent most of it buying that shed where you have been staying for some time.”

  “Oh.” The image of the ruined shed made her even more apologetic.

  Bartlett rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I got no choice. I’ll take on the king’s offer, explain to him what we know and what our next plan is. You’ll have to explain yourself, Henrietta. You and the king has a lot of things to talk about.”

  "The king?"

  "Just hours ago, he was the crown prince of Manarithia. There was an attack in the castle, and the king did not survive."

  "The crown prince? Oh no...."

  Bartlett shrugged. "Like I said. A lot of things to talk about."

  “There is also another thing. Does anyone of you know who Rhiannon is?”

  Henrietta’s questions seemed random, but fortunately not without a good answer.

  “She was the queen of Wyrith from 600 years ago, back when Wyrith and Manarithia were still the same kingdom,” said Thomas. “Her title was ‘queen of dragons’ as she was also the leader of the dragon riders of her time. Why?"

  “Why is she important?” asked Henrietta. “I mean, a queen from 600 years ago couldn’t have been important enough for a goddess to take note, right?”

  “Goddess?”

  “Oh. Uh….” Henrietta sighed. Zulkiris could not complain, anyway. “There’s…something you need to know. My powers…it didn’t come from myself. A dragon goddess bestowed me a gift and taught me to wield it. She helped me to purge the poison from my body and instruct me on how to fight the lich. That explosion exhausted me and severed my connection with her. Before she went, she said, ‘seek Rhiannon.’ The name sounds either Wyrithian or Manarithian. I never thought she would be a queen from Wyrith’s past.”

  “But I thought our tutor talked about it in one of our classes,” said Thomas.

  “Well, I…wasn't paying attention. Those classes are boring. I was only looking forward to Minerva's lessons."

  “That's the reason why you skipped the etiquette lessons we all have to endure?” Thomas sighed. “No wonder you look all sorts of wrong in the court. All you think about is the proper sword wielding forms!”

  “Hey! It’s important, too! If I’m going to be useful other than to become the wife of some noble, I might as well learn how to swing a sword! Besides, why are you so mad at me for lacking etiquette? We are not royalties anymore, and I’m certainly not in the right condition to maintain etiquette.”

  “You….” Thomas groaned but immediately sighed. “You haven’t changed, Henri.”

  “Looking like this?”

  “I mean as a person.” Thomas smiled. “It’s great to know you haven’t gone way over your head.”

  Henrietta huffed. “What do you mean by that?”

  Thomas simply replied with a smirk, irking his sister. He did not show any reluctance or fear around her, despite her being a dragon who wielded the gift of a dragon goddess. Perhaps it was due to her being his thought-dead sister surviving as the creature he loved. He was not scared of dragons; he wouldn’t be scared if his sister was one.

  It was a long day for everyone involved, culminating in the death of a beloved member of the community. There were many questions to be answered, especially now that their enemies were clearer than before. The war against Wyrith continued its stalemate, though it would soon be heating up again once news reached their enemies that all their attempts to undermine Manarithia up to that point failed. There was no way to stop the news from spreading, so all they could do was to prepare themselves.

  For the night, though, everyone wanted to go to sleep, even Henrietta. She may have woken up from a month-long slumber, but using her fire extensively, without proper physical training, exhausted here again. She was a little worried that once she slept, she would wake up a month later. But she knew that would not be the case.

  Because she knew her struggles would not be for naught. She was more prepared to deal with her enemies with the gift from Zulkiris. She was more confident in her first true victory against an overwhelming enemy. It may not be enough against whoever the lich was warning about, but the results remained in her favor.

  And she could sleep well that night, knowing that she won.