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Chapter 8

  Three people were looking down from the gate, but he couldn't make out who they were.

  Firstly, because he had trouble distinguishing Humans anyway, and secondly because his new eyes weren't good enough to make out details at this distance, but from the strange frame on the nose of one of the people, he realized that he must be the mayor.

  At least he didn't know anyone else who walked around with one of these things on their nose.

  He couldn't remember the name, only that the last time he visited, the man had simply fallen over for no reason with one hand clutching his chest.

  Miriam began again to tell the idiotic story that he had tried to assassinate himself. However, he no longer had the strength to react and denial these lies.

  Both physically and mentally at the end of his strength, he could barely follow the conversation between his former servants and the people on the wall.

  This can't be true; this is all happening to someone else and not to me. It can't happen to me, he thought, now completely dazed by pain.

  He barely noticed that Bartold kicked his feet out from under him and he found himself on the ground again, which caused him to moan in pain into the gag.

  Why does everyone have to push me to the ground?, he thought miserably, a thought that he could hardly identify as his own.

  The cold pressure on his neck quickly brought him back to reality and he realized that Bartold had put his sword to his neck.

  What's happening here? he thought in panic.

  Although his senses were not as sharp as they had been as a dragon, they were now sharpened to the extreme, and the dizziness he had felt until just a moment ago was now blown away by the cold steel on his neck.

  He felt his hairs stand up where the sword touched him and got goose bumps.

  He heard Miriam explaining to the people on the wall that they would release him for one thousand five hundred sterling, and if they didn't pay, they would kill him right here and… now?

  Again, he couldn't, or rather didn't want to, understand what was happening, but the steel on his neck forced him to face this horrid reality.

  Ridiculous. Humans are stupid, but not so stupid that they'd pay for strangers' freedom, but that would mean that I... no, impossible, he thought with a slow, horrible realization.

  He was afraid, but this kind of fear was vastly different from the kind he had felt before in this body.

  He could feel the blood moving in his veins, seemingly draining from his face in an instant.

  At the same time, his knees went weak and his whole body seemed to collapse, almost causing him to fall forward.

  He was afraid, scared to death, for the first time in his ninety-two-year-long life, even if he couldn’t quite articulate these feelings yet.

  No, no, no, why, how can that be, I can't die yet, not like that and not now. I'm not even a hundred years old, that can't be, that's not fair. I haven't... accomplished anything of true significant yet, this is no ending for a dragon, it shot through his mind in terror despair.

  "I can't blame you, it's a really extortionate price after all," he heard Bartold's words that would seal his fate.

  He wanted to say something, but didn't know what, he wanted to scream, but didn't have the strength, all he could do was watch out of the corner of his eye, shaking uncontrollably, as Bartold swung his sword.

  “Stop!” it suddenly echoed down from the gate, whereupon Bartold lowered his sword again.

  “Well, you won, you madmen. We'll get the money and then come to the door,” he heard a voice say from the gate.

  At first, he didn't realize what was happening, he was still kneeling on the floor, shaking, which is why he let out a surprised gasp through the gag when Martin lifted him to his feet.

  "Can you hear badly? Your comrades are paying for your sorry ass, so come on”.

  " What comrades? And why are they paying for my sorry ass, why should they? he asked himself as he stumbled with wobbly legs, following Martin to the pedestrian entrance of the Gate.

  They waited at the door for a few moments until it was finally opened by one of the men from the Wall, who handed Martin a small bag.

  Martin took it, opened it, and ran his hand through the coins, making the familiar clinking sound that usually calmed Aodhan, but now because of his shock he barely noticed it.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Martin finally said with a wink, turned around and left, leaving a confused Aodhan standing in front of the door.

  "Um, would you mind coming in, I'm feeling very uncomfortable near open passageways to our city right now," he heard the man who had opened the door for him say.

  He turned around and looked at the horde of his former servants and then looked back at the passage and the people standing on the other side.

  It can't get any worse... I hope, he thought resignedly and finally hurried through the door, which was immediately closed behind him.

  Strange hands were working on his neck and soon he was free of the gag. Then one of the strangers approached him with a knife. He was about to scream in panic until he realized that they were only trying to cut his bonds.

  Before anyone could say anything, Bartold's voice echoed over the wall.

  "I hate to disturb you with your new guest, but I'm afraid we have more to discuss."

  "I have a bad feeling about this," muttered the man who had cut his bonds before turning to a broad-bellied man next to him.

  "I ‘stay here with Albert, can you accommodate our guest for a while, Boris?" he asked.

  "Sure, just come over when you're ready," replied the person he was addressing, who was apparently called Boris, and motioned with his hand for Aodhan to follow him, which he did for lack of other options.

  "Grotar`s ass, you have no idea how curious I am about your story, stranger," he heard the man Boris say, but could only respond with a pitiful cross between a groan and a sigh.

  Back at the edge of the forest, with the rest of their group, Martin and Miriam were happy with greedy eyes about the ransom they had just collected, while Bartold was struggling not to show his anger that Aodhan was now out of his reach.

  "They really paid! all thanks to you Miriam. That was a great speech you gave there," said Martin excitedly, his eyes sparkling, as he examined the coins together with Miriam.

  "Yes, and I swear, it was all improvised. I think I should have become a diplomat or something," she laughed, letting a single coin dance through her fingers.

  You should have fallen into a ditch and broken your neck; you bitch. Your stupid idea is making this more complicated, he thought furious.

  Instead of drawing his sword and accidentally plunging it into her stomach, he instead patted her on the shoulder in recognition, putting on his best smile, a smile very similar to the one he wore when he was educating traveling merchants about the dragon tax.

  Why am I getting so worked up? I'd rather have him dead, but either way he can't turn the others against me now.

  As he thought about it, his fake smile finally turned into a genuine one.

  What else could he do? Tell people that he's the dragon that's been exploiting them for years? My goodness, they'll either think he's crazy or they'll believe the whole thing and lynch him outright. No, he won't even mention the word dragon to them, he calmed himself down, but couldn't quite stifle the last echoes of doubt in his mind.

  It made sense that he'd told us about the transformation. Aodhan was really naive enough to believe that if he had convinced the others of his identity, they would actually have gone out into the world to look for a solution for him, instead of just killing him and then scattering in all directions with his treasure, he continued to think, still amused by the naivety of his old leader.

  The only thing he would gain from telling the people of Schlucht the truth would be to ruin my operation. Admittedly, it's a possibility, but still, I think his instinct for self-preservation is stronger than his desire for revenge. That means everything can go on as planned, he calmly finished his thoughts.

  "I have to say, that went better than I expected. Didn't think they'd pay for him, but that was the cynic in me speaking," he said, drawing the attention of the other two.

  "See, never underestimate the weak stomach of people who earn their money with honest work," Miriam replied with a grin.

  "Well, now that that's out of the way, we can get to our real task," he continued.

  "That's right, yes. The raid. Well, is that really necessary now? I mean, is there anything left to get now that we've taken that sack of gold from them?" Martin interjected doubtfully.

  "First of all, my good man, there are other valuable things besides coins. Secondly, this," and he pointed to the coin bag, "is all well and good, but it won't really be enough to calm Aodhan down when he wakes up. Believe me, I was up there. It looks like he had a real fit of rage. Our lord is... in a pretty bad mood right now," he explained to his partners, pausing briefly to swallow, apparently nervously.

  "Uh, yes, you're right. It would be better to do everything possible to lift his spirits so that he doesn′t turns us into torches," Martin agreed with a slightly frightened expression on his face.

  "I see. Then I'll make them our offer," Miriam said eagerly and was about to turn back to the wall but he held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

  "Well, if you don't mind, my dear, I'd like to do the talking now. Of course, I don't want to say anything about your negotiating skills, but after all, I've received direct instructions from him," he explained to her.

  "Uh, yes, well, makes sense," Miriam agreed in a slightly disappointed tone.

  Together, the three of them finally approached the wall again. He concentrated and gathered some of the power that flowed through all beings in the world into his vocal cords.

  A simple little trick that caused a slight numbness in his fingertips but made his voice boom like a hunting horn to the people on the palisade.

  "I hate to disturb you with your old friend, but I'm afraid we still have more to discuss," he called up the gate.

  After a while, Ivar finally appeared on the wall next to Albert, and he assumed that the fat man was taking care of Aodhan.

  "What, haven't you harassed us enough for one day, you bloodsuckers! What do you want now?" Albert shouted angrily in his direction.

  "What do we want now? Well, let me think," he answered and allowed his thoughts to wander.

  In his mind, he could already see himself in one of the large djinn cities. There he lay in a luxurious bed, surrounded by slaves from all nations who read his every wish from his lips.

  He had heard Aodhan once get upset about the fact that some dragons were working for the djinns.

  He would probably get one as a bodyguard on principle, or even better as a slave. With such thoughts, he couldn't help but laugh as he finally continued.

  "Well, if you ask me like that, Albert, then the answer is quite simple. I want everything!" he answered and watched with a smile as Albert's face slowly changed from confusion to understanding and finally to horror.

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