Page 21 of The Witch & the Dragon

Hand in hand, they walked around the lake, exploring a small river with fish and their scales glinting in the sun.

“Bears rarely come to this area,” he told her, still holding her hand, seemingly unwilling to let it go. “This place, this whole mountain, really, is claimed by dragon clans. It’s not something they want to mess with, so they give this a wide berth, even though there’s a lot of food and water for survival. So, you could go hiking all alone, and you’d be perfectly safe.”

“What about the other dragons, though?”

“Oh… well, as long as you mention who invited you here, you should be okay. Though it’s true, they don’t take great to any perceived trespassing on the mountain. Aha… look…” he pointed at a gleam of blue in the water. “A lucky fish. Catching one of those gives the eater great fortune. They’re a fae creation, but let me tell you, they’re hard to catch. Even if you spot them.” He disturbed the water slightly, and the gleaming fish seemed to vanish on the spot.

“You have fae things up here as well?” Chloe said, both fascinated and slightly concerned. The fae areas were generally dangerous and alien to the human population.

“Yes, but nothing quite as sinister as Jenny Greenteeth or creatures that want to lure you off the path or kill you in various interesting ways. Probably the most interesting thing about the mountain is the Old Spirit. It is not really something people see – it’s a spirit that is said to be one of the ancestors of dragons, and it watches over its kind here. People will leave offerings to the Old Spirit, along with their attempts to catch the luck fish or various other creatures of fortune that litter the place.” He grimaced. “Another reason why my parents never shared this with my uncle Randall – he wasn’t always so respectful of nature. He would leave things in a worse state than how he found them; they used to tell me, back when they did go on holidays with him.”

“The more I hear about your uncle, the more I hate him, and I already hate him quite a lot.” She squeezed his hand. “He really sounds awful. And… to think he would…”

“Yeah.” Tiran stared up at the sky. “I hoped to leave an offering for the Old Spirit while I’m here. One of the shrines is nearby. I’ll show you.” He led the way, and she followed, holding his hand until it became too awkward to walk while doing so, and they reached a bend in the river where a notable collection of stones was piled up on one side of the bank, around what appeared to be a stone bowl. The bowl itself had little carved patterns of long, two-dimensional dragons along the edges, and Tiran fished out a silvery necklace.

“This belonged to my mother.” He placed it in the bowl. “And this, to my father.” The second item to join the bowl was a gold cufflink. “Last, from me.” The final item to go in was a small dragon figurine. “I don’t know if you’re watching, Old Spirit, but I could do with a win. Two of your… children are gone. My parents. These are the last gifts they will give. I will give more myself, but I do wish there could be some justice. I understand it is not an easy ask.” He bowed to the bowl, and Chloe felt the need to do the same. A part of her thought these very nice, valuable things might get stolen by another hiker, but she didn’t want to say it out loud because the whole ritual seemed important to him.

They left the shrine and made their way through a lovely stretch of woodland forest with a path covered in pine needles. Being immersed in nature to such a degree awed Chloe, and she breathed in clean, crisp, slightly chilled air that was refreshing with every breath.

Coming from the city, the whole shift toward the more rural Dreadmor Academy and then this isolated mountain area represented a vastly different lifestyle – but one that she appreciated with her full heart.

Wouldn’t it be nice to live out here, off the grid, away from all the troubles of civilization? Just nature in its fury and glory, catching your own food, burning your own logs in the winter for heat… although from what she’d read about winter, perhaps it wasn’t quite as romantic as it appeared on the postcards.

With that thought, she realized, in a thrilled rush, that this was a date. They were here now, in the middle of a beautiful area, just existing. Sometimes kissing. That sounded like a date to her.

Since she didn’t want to dredge up any painful topics, she only spoke if Tiran began first, as that seemed the safest route.

“Sometimes, we’d make a little campfire out here. Do you see the disturbed ground? And the logs – we found and shaped them, so they’d be better for her.” He paused, smiling, at three thick logs sculpted to be a little more comfortable for sitting. One log was much smaller than the others. Chloe imagined a younger Tiran sitting there, surrounded by his parents. She worried something like this might be too painful, but he seemed able to deal with it.

He shook his head then. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be reminiscing so much – we’re not just here for me. If you want, though, next time, let me know of a place that’s important for you. We’ll fly there when we have a day off.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m happy this place is helping you.” She sensed, as well, that being here was a step forward for him. Showing something so personal, so intimate. A part of his life that was now forever changed. And he wanted to show it to her.

Eventually, they checked on the stew, whose aroma permeated the family cabin with a mouthwatering, meaty smell, along with the tang of dark beer. At the end of a long cook time, as the evening descended in full, the stars crawled into the sky, bright and without a single trace of pollution to hide them.

They sat together in the warm cabin and ate the stew, which turned out to be more flavorsome than she’d anticipated. Her previous experience with stew wasn’t exactly great since her mother tended to skimp on the spices and sometimes used cheap, gristly cuts of meat that you’d have to chew for minutes at a time until there was nothing left but a small, tough ball. This, however, fully warmed her from the inside, as well as making her feel full after eating just half of it.

“In the autumn, and sometimes winter, this would be our go-to meal. It's not so great in the summer – you tend to want lighter, cooler meals then. But in the winter – this stuff is divine.” He consumed his entire bowl with an eager hunger. “I can’t make it as well as they did. But at least I can honor them in this way.”

Looking at the dark sky outside, Chloe felt a quick, daring urge within. Her heart rate increased, and she wondered if she might be bold enough to go through with it. He saw her looking outside as he cleared away the bowls and cutlery. “I can take you back to the academy now. It’s not an issue. We have some goggles and a balaclava here if you want to stay warm during the flight.”

“Will you be coming to the academy as well tonight?”

“We have another day free tomorrow. I’ll be returning and finishing up the stew, of course.” He beamed, and the expression took her breath away. Her eyes trailed to the bare bit of skin exposed in the dip of his now partially unbuttoned shirt. They traveled further, roaming the contours of his body without hopefully being too obvious.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was really the type of person to have feelings. She might just be one of those rare types who were unable to live with as much excitement as others if, when it came to relationships, she would be complacent in them but never quite matching the vigor seen in movies, heard from friends, and even what she saw between her own parents, who still hadn’t lost their passion so many years in.

Then, of course, she looked at Tiran right now, felt that strange stirring, and wondered if she might just be lying to herself. That all it took was the right person.

The memory of the kiss lingered on her lips. The wonderful, electric sensation as they meshed, hands grasping, and the gasp of shock when his tongue had, at one point, flicked her bottom lip, requesting entrance. It sent another warm wave that had nothing to do with the blazing fire or the cozy sensation of the cabin.

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to interrupt them.

“I was thinking… maybe I could stay here tonight,” she said shyly. “If… if it’s not an issue.”

His eyes widened, and he appeared to swallow something. “I, yeah, sure. There’s, uh, two bedrooms. You can take… this one if you want.” He pointed to the room that she knew once belonged to his parents.

“If it’s not an issue, I wouldn’t want to impose –”

---