As Richard lifted his visor, glancing left and right to ensure he hadn’t been spotted, a shock of red hair popped up beside him.
“You clumsy little worm,” Aurina hissed, “you’re about to snap your juicy green snack’s neck!”
“Aurina, where’s your hood? Have you forgotten the code of stealth?”
Richard chided, tugging her hood back over her head.
“I’m hungry,” she declared, yanking a limp, green-skinned goblin from behind her.
Its face was a mottled mess of red and purple, tongue lolling grotesquely.
“Hurry up and roast this tender, juicy green morsel for your queen!”
The “tender, juicy green morsel” in her grasp suddenly stirred, eyes snapping open, mouth gaping to scream.
Aurina swiftly shifted her grip, locking the goblin in a chokehold that looked almost like an embrace.
She nestled her head against its shoulder, her arm tightening around its neck.
The goblin’s mouth worked desperately, but only a faint croak escaped: “No… don’t eat me…” Its eyes rolled back, and it slumped unconscious.
Aurina gave the goblin a shake.
“See, you dim-witted worm? This is how you hunt.”
Richard’s voice was firm.
“Didn’t you promise me you’d stop eating goblins and other humanoid creatures?”
“What?”
Aurina blinked, feigning innocence.
“Me? Give up my healthy green snacks? Never!”
Richard fixed her with a stern gaze.
Aurina tilted her chin defiantly, her expression brimming with righteous indignation.
For a moment, even Richard wondered if he’d misremembered.
Amid the distant revelry echoing from the goblin valley, he pulled a worn notebook from his belt pouch and read aloud: “June 24th, Aurina nodded and swore not to eat green snacks.”
He looked up, holding her gaze.
Aurina doubled down.
“Nope! Your queen demands her green snacks. I’m just a growing girl, you know—gotta eat to get big and strong!”
It was one of her favorite tricks, a phrase she’d picked up from an old woman while hogging a pot of boiled mutton.
“Fine,” Richard said, exasperation creeping in.
“We’re in the middle of a stealth mission, and you promised..But since red dragons are chaotic and evil by nature, I’ll drill it into you again.Write it down this time.”
“No eating people—or anything remotely humanoid. I won’t let you follow your father’s path, becoming a cruel dragon who wreaks havoc on the world.”
Havoc?
Aurina thought, tail lashing the ground in irritation.
I’m generously blessing the world with the supreme blood of dragons!
They should be thanking me!
Her head throbbed from Richard’s lectures, and for the sake of her aching skull, she held back from snapping at him.
“Promise me you won’t eat humanoids,” Richard pressed.
“Fine, fine,” she said, hefting the unconscious goblin.
“Can I at least roast this one?”
Richard inhaled deeply.
“No goblins either.”
“No way.”
“Eat one, and you’ll slide down the path to devouring people, turning into a heartless, greedy monster. It’s hard to empathize with your food, after all.”
Aurina chanted her little spell again: “Kids don’t know better; it’s just a nibble for fun!”
“No eating,” Richard said flatly.
“Then I’ll eat it raw!”
She opened her mouth, shark-like teeth glinting, and the goblin—awake again—fainted at the sight.
Richard shoved his thumb into her mouth, saving the goblin’s life.
“I said no.”
“I want to eat it!”
With a sigh, Richard resorted to his usual tactic: the enforcer.
He raised his hand and rapped her sharply on the head.
Thwack!
“Ow!”
Aurina yelped, dropping the goblin, who landed in a heap, miraculously alive.
Rubbing her head, she gritted her teeth.
She had to admit—for now—Richard was stronger, even if he was woefully lacking in every other area, especially wisdom.
“Fine, I won’t eat it.”
“Swear you’ll never eat them again.”
“I swear.”
Richard handed her the notebook.
“Write it down.”
The pages were already scrawled with lines of “I, Aurina, was wrong and won’t call him a worm again,” each word dripping with impatience.
Her stomach burned with indignation—humiliation of dragonkind!
Forced to write apologies, she’d grudgingly scribbled a few to humor Richard, the “mightiest worm.”
But he’d made her keep writing, even after smacking her head… all because she’d burned the last notebook.
Aurina took a deep breath, ready to torch this one too.
Richard’s fist rose, quick as a flash.
She forced a grin, teeth clenched.
“I’ll write, I’ll write.”
She scrawled “I swear” in jagged letters.
“Swear what?”
“I swear not to eat green snacks.”
“Goblins.”
She added “goblins” in bold, defiant strokes.
Richard took a long breath, swallowing his frustration.
“I’ll dictate, you write: ‘I, Aurina, swear not to eat humanoid creatures, with final authority resting with Richard, the paladin.’”
Fearing another head-knock, Aurina grudgingly wrote, muttering, “I, you write, I, Aurina, swear…” She paused, glaring.
“Wrong word? Really? You’re such a pest, worm. Maybe you’re just bad at teaching.”
Richard’s inhale was loud enough to echo.
Aurina looked up, smirking.
“What, you’re gonna breathe fire too?”
He laughed, a sharp, exasperated sound.
“No calling me ‘worm.’”
“Hm, mightiest worm?”
“Not even with ‘mightiest.’”
“Rishard?”
“Richard.”
He sighed.
“How about this: I write a line, you read it, then copy it.”
Aurina nodded, and with painful effort, she finally copied a proper line.
Richard sometimes wondered if his knocks had dulled her wits—she seemed oddly slow for a dragon.
“Done,” she grumbled.
“Your queen remembers.”
“Good.”
Richard glanced at the notebook.
“Since we’re sneaking, copy two more lines now, and finish later.”
Aurina crouched, her delicate foot crushing a pebble to dust.
“Fine.”
The goblin stirred, muttering, “Don’t kill me, I’m—”
Aurina’s hand shot out, seizing its neck with a sickening crack.
The goblin went limp, her childlike face at odds with the brutal act.
“You’re a dragon, alright,” Richard said dryly.
“A true dragon,” she corrected.
Richard eyed the goblin’s corpse, still looking oddly… appetizing.
“Where’d you grab this one?”
“He looked tasty, so I snatched him,” Aurina said.
“There were others trailing him.”
Richard’s heart skipped.
“Where from?”
“Down there. They were playing hide-and-seek or something.”
His pulse raced.
“By Tyr…”
Before he could finish, a goblin’s head poked up from the rocks below.
“Hey, runt, see our boss’s kid? Is he hiding with you? What’s with the two bushes up there?”
The goblin approached from behind.
Richard signaled Aurina to stay quiet.
“What’s with you two lying there, not talking?” the goblin muttered, footsteps drawing closer.
Richard tensed, muscles coiling.
Aurina mirrored him, ready to pounce.
The goblin stopped.
“Wait… is that a tail?”
Richard sprang up, hurling a spear that pierced the goblin’s chest.
He lunged, clamping its mouth shut.
Relief flooded him—until Aurina piped up.
“I’m gonna breathe fire, show you a true dragon’s might!”
“No!”
Richard hissed.
“We’re stealthing!”
“But—”
He turned to see four raggedly armored goblins climbing the rocks, locking eyes with Aurina.
“Young master!” one shrieked.
“He’s dead! We’re done for!”
“Longlegs! Longlegs!”
Aurina grinned.
“No more sneaking, right?”
Richard sighed.
“Right.”
She inhaled deeply, unleashing a torrent of flame.
The fire swept over the goblins like a tidal wave, curling into a glowing orb that drifted skyward, illuminating Richard’s resigned face and his emerald eyes.
Gong, gong, gong!
Below, the goblin valley erupted in chaos, copper gongs ringing.
Goblins poured from the firelit hollow, brandishing spears under the lash of draconic kin, their revelry turning to warlike fervor.
Richard pressed a hand to his forehead. “Retreat. I’ll cover. Move, or we’re done.”
“They’re there! There!”
“They’ve cut off the rear!”
Winged draconic goblins swooped in, blocking the narrow path—their only escape unless they could scale sheer cliffs like monkeys.
“What’re you babbling about?”
Aurina scoffed, tossing aside her drab cloak.
She strode forward, planting a foot on a charred stone. Before her, a sea of goblins surged, torches blazing like a fiery tide.
She pointed, laughing.
“These pathetic snacks dare challenge their queen?”
***
The next morning, Aurina clung to the bars of a swaying iron cage, gnashing at the steel.
“You vile snacks, how dare you cage your queen!”
A dozen goblins hauled the cage into a cavernous hall. “Great King!” they cried.
“We lost fifty brothers, but we caught her!”
On a rickety wooden throne, a red-skinned goblin wearing a bull’s skull cackled.
“Dragonkin longlegs! She’ll bear young, and one day, we goblins will be dragons!”
“Gah-ha-ha!” the draconic goblins jeered.
Aurina rattled the cage.
“Release me, or I’ll burn you all to ash!”
“No use,” the goblin king sneered.
“This magic cage has trapped plenty of longlegs females. Only we can let you out. Bring the slaving scroll—and don’t mix it up this time!”
The red-skinned goblins crowded around, leering.
“Look at her, so lively. She’ll birth plenty.”
“Her hair’s like fire, and she’s got dragon horns.”
“Face is ugly, though—cover it with a cloth.”
“Keep your hand back; she bit one clean off!”
“Stupid, too. Way dumber than that armored one who got away.”
Aurina kicked the cage, making it sway.
“You wretched, foolish snacks! You can’t fathom my supreme intellect! That was me using you as my blade! Just wait—I’ll slaughter you all!”
“Wait to bear young,” a goblin mocked.
“Even if you escape, you’re surrounded.”
“Alert!” a goblin cried.
“An armored one’s cutting through outside!”
“No matter,” the king said, clutching a slave contract.
“We’ll use magic to make this redhead fight him, then go back to breeding.”
He bit his thumb, smearing blood on the scroll.
A green glow bathed Aurina, who raised an arm to shield herself.
“Five minutes,” the king sneered, “and you’ll be our loyal thug.”
The scroll smoked, then crumbled to ash.
The green light flickered, and the king and his kin froze, eyes glowing green.
Aurina felt a familiar thrill—the power to command. “Let me out.”
“Alright,” they mumbled.
The cage door clanged open.
“You lot, get in. Swap with me.”
“Alright.”
Before the stunned crowd, the king and eight draconic goblins shuffled into the cage, locking themselves in.
A goblin blinked.
“K-King?
Why’re you in there?”
“Why am I in here?” the king muttered, the green glow fading.
Aurina snatched the key, popped it into her mouth, and swallowed.
“Gah-ha! Behold my supreme intellect! Your pathetic slave scroll is nothing before my regal aura. I bow to no one—least of all you measly snacks!”
Her “foresight” was all of five seconds old, but that didn’t stop her from basking in her genius.
“Kill her!” the king screeched.
“Cut her open, get the key! We’ve got fifty mighty dragonkin!”
The draconic goblins raised spears and blades, some dancing to summon magic.
Green-skinned goblins roared, ready to swarm.
Aurina raised her clawed hands, baring her teeth in a roar.
“Kneel, you ants!”
She looked like a kitten mimicking a tiger.
The green goblins howled with laughter.
“She thinks she’s a dragon!”
“Ants, ants, naked ants?” one mocked.
But the red-skinned goblins trembled, frozen.
“Why aren’t you moving?” a green one asked.
“KNEEL!” Aurina bellowed.
Their knees buckled.
One by one, over fifty draconic goblins dropped to the ground.
An old goblin shaman gaped.
“That pressure… could it be the true dragon’s blood of our ancestors?”