“Well, I’ll be…” Vanded muttered beside Vera, squinting up at the approaching shape.

  Down the street, people were leaning out of windows and stepping into the road to look, uneasy voices rising. Vera didn’t pay them attention. Her focus stayed on Serel, even as her mind tried to insist she could have misheard or that the girl could be confused. Or that it was a coincidence. Or anything else other than what it obviously was, really.

  She shut that escapist thought down.

  She closed her eyes for a second, reset her mind as best she could, then looked up.

  “Uh, ma…” Gloria’s nervous voice came from nearby.

  “Oi, Blazegrip,” Hilde called. “Do I need to get my girl out of here?”

  There was a short pause before Vanded gave a light snort. “Nah. Reckon it’s more likely she’ll want to see this.”

  The shape overhead dropped lower, and as it hit a break in the clouds, crimson shimmered faintly across its silhouette. Still held in one of Vera’s arms, Serel squirmed, excitement creeping through her movements.

  Vera narrowed her eyes. She thought she could make out wings now. And a long tail. Was that… a flying mount?

  That hadn’t been a thing in Ashen Legacy. At least when she’d played it. And as far as she knew, it hadn’t been announced for the next expansion.

  Her heart beat faster. She would’ve liked to say it was only due to the awe of seeing something new—a player’s thrill at seeing something unique—but with the way her fingers clenched around Stillwake…

  A part of her was preparing for a fight. Another part was pretty sure she didn’t get to choose that option here.

  The figure disappeared completely in a low cloud. When it cleared again, Vera’s eyes widened.

  “Mommy!” Serel practically squealed. “It’s a—”

  “Dragon,” Vera finished quietly.

  Crimson scales. Black-tipped wings. A row of ridged horns along its neck, gleaming faintly gold. Heat shimmering around its body as it beat its wings.

  It was a dragon. A living, breathing dragon. As a mount.

  How the hell did that become a thing?

  The dragon dropped toward Marrowfen. Cries of fear and disbelief carried from the nearby streets as more people looked skyward, realizing what that roar earlier had been. Swears followed, along with doors and shutters slamming. The creature swept in a wide circle around the city with a fluid, almost lazy grace Vera couldn’t help but marvel at.

  This was a world where dragons were very much treated like a special existence. Even in the game, their boss appearances had been rare. Getting to see one of these legendary creatures in the flesh truly was a cool experience.

  But as she tracked its arc, she quickly recognized that its gaze was scanning the streets below.

  And pretty soon, it locked onto something.

  It veered sharply, wings tucking as it turned in a tight, controlled sweep—and its entire direction realigned straight toward them.

  A thin, rising roar peeled from its throat, announcing itself to whatever portion of the city still hadn’t noticed the giant flying lizard. Then it began dropping directly toward the stretch of street where Vera, Serel, and the others stood.

  It was only then that she registered how surprisingly… small it was. At least compared to what she expected of a dragon. When it had passed by the Marrowvault’s spire and glided over the city, it had looked impressively huge, and it still did up close. But the dragons she knew from the game were titans. Cataclysm-scale monsters. The kind you built myths around because comparing them to mountains wasn’t too much of an exaggeration.

  This dragon, though, was maybe about the size of The Bleeding Chalice.

  Which meant it had to be young. An adolescent?

  That confused Vera more than anything, honestly.

  And—embarrassingly—it also made her feel a tiny, stupid pang of jealousy as another bright, excited squeak burst out of Serel. The dragon slowed its descent, then almost halted in place with a single, powerful wingbeat that sent a torrent of wind ripping across the buildings. Shutters rattled violently as dust shot up around them and Vera’s hood was blown back, her hair whipping across her face in a messy whorl.

  Long, black claws touched down on the cobblestones with surprising care as the dragon folded its wings tight to avoid the roofs on either side of the street. It landed cleanly on the stretch of road just beyond the bridge spanning the canal beside the Chalice. A pair of slitted, golden eyes fixed immediately on Vera.

  She held that stare for a beat.

  Then the dragon lowered its head, revealing the figure Vera had sensed mounted on its back.

  Clad in full plate—a dim black, engraved with a dark sun across the chest—a woman with vermilion hair spilling from the rear of a helm that hid everything but the bronze-tan lower half of her face looked straight at Vera. The narrow visor slit hiding her eyes glowed a deep crimson.

  Elaria Valecrest.

  Flamebearer of the Covenant Flame.

  Keeper of the Pyric Oath.

  Scion of the Wounded Sun, Duelmistress of the Ember Courts.

  Poster child for Ashen Legacy.

  A fan favorite for basically every lore-enjoyer who touched the game.

  And, of course, Serel’s supposed ‘Mama.’

  Vera could almost feel the temperature rise under that stare alone.

  After a long, quiet moment, Elaria finally moved, sliding down the dragon’s neck with controlled ease. Her plated boots struck stone with a blunt, final sound.

  Around Vera, no one spoke.

  A useless corner of her mind almost wondered if the silence was in solidarity with the judgment she might be about to face.

  Elaria crossed the bridge, walking toward them with slow steps. She stopped a few paces away, mouth set in a firm line. Behind her, the dragon’s gaze remained fixed, watching them all with an unnerving patience.

  Vera’s lips parted, hanging there for a moment before she shut them again.

  “Mighty dramatic entrance, Keeper!” Vanded barked, releasing a hearty laugh that felt so oblivious to the tension Vera was feeling that it bordered on impressive. “For a second there, I thought we were about to see another brawl that could level half the city.”

  Elaria’s attention flicked to him. “Blazegrip. Be quiet.”

  The man crossed his arms, reaching up to scratch his beard with one finger. “Huh. Not the kindest greeting to a comrade you haven’t seen in months.” He looked between her and Vera. “…But seems like there might be some unfinished business here I wasn’t aware of.”

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  Elaria’s gaze returned to Vera, studying her. Vera tried to read whatever emotion was behind that look, but didn’t get much.

  Except for the growing sense of impending… something… winding under her skin. It wasn’t quite the same pressure that Resonance applied, but it was close enough in weight that it made the air feel heavy. Like the promise of confrontation.

  Seconds stretched out in that suffocating quiet while Vera scrambled internally for the proper thing to say here.

  ‘Long time no see.’

  ‘Sorry, I forgot to shoot you a message. Surprise, I’m back.’

  ‘So… did you know we have a kid?’

  She wasn’t sure why the first things her brain surfaced were the most inane options it could possibly have scraped together.

  Maybe her focus should be on determining why Elaria was here and whether the woman planned to punch her in the face.

  Before she could think further, Serel slipped free of her arm. Vera reached out to stop her, but something in her froze, her hand hanging midair.

  “Mama!” Serel shouted as she sprinted toward Elaria. She crashed into the woman, wrapping her in a hug that only reached the waist.

  For a breath, it was as if the world went utterly silent.

  Elaria looked down at the girl clinging to her.

  Vera’s grip tightened around Stillwake.

  Elaria raised a gauntleted hand—

  —and removed her helm, revealing a pair of crimson eyes that glowed far less fiercely than the visor made them seem. The helm dissolved as she sank to one knee and returned Serel’s embrace, vermilion hair falling loosely over the girl’s shoulder.

  “Hello, Serel. It’s been too long,” she said.

  Something in Vera’s chest eased. Something she hadn’t even realized had been wound tight.

  She blinked.

  She’d been worried.

  Worried Elaria wouldn’t know who Serel was. Or worse—reject her. That Serel would break in front of her, and Vera would have to stand there and watch it happen.

  When Elaria finally released her, Serel stepped back half a pace and pointed eagerly past her. “Mama, you came here on a dragon! How!? Can I say hi!?”

  Elaria’s gaze lingered on the girl for a beat, then she rose smoothly. “I will introduce you later. There are other matters I need to address first.”

  Serel nodded with enthusiastic trust. “Mmm, okay!”

  Elaria’s focus shifted back to Vera, eyes meeting hers.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  They both turned to see Vanded staring between them with an expression that now hovered somewhere between intrigued, skeptical, amused, and disbelieving. “Say, Mournvale,” he started, squinting slightly. “Mind confirming it’s not the dust clogging my ears, but the lass is calling Valecrest ‘Mama,’ yeah?”

  Vera lowered her head slowly. “…Yes.”

  His brows climbed. He looked her over for a long, deliberate second before shifting his gaze to Elaria. “You know,” he said, “when I asked who the lucky cinderborn was, I didn’t quite expect it to be that literal. But I figure she must have been real lucky to somehow manage makin’ that work.”

  Vera stared at him.

  He turned back to her with a short bark of a laugh and a grin.

  Stillwake moved.

  Mark of Hollow Reach.

  Vanded’s eyes went wide as the space behind him tore open. “Now hold on a second here, Vera, I didn’t mean—!”

  Her foot sank into his chest, sending him flying backward through the rift. It snapped shut behind him, and she was pretty sure she’d felt something crack.

  She turned back to Elaria. The woman looked at the empty spot where Vanded had been, then at Vera.

  “You should have kicked harder,” she said.

  “I probably should have, yeah,” Vera replied.

  Then she paused, a crease pulling at her brow as it hit her that that had been her first actual exchange with Elaria.

  And she’d opened it by kicking a man through a portal.

  …Did that count as a good or bad impression?

  “Mommy, why did you kick Uncle Vanded?” Serel asked, confused, looking between Vera and the spot where Vanded had disappeared. “Where did he go?”

  Vera licked her lips, feeling a tiny, reluctant twinge of guilt under that innocent stare. Then she reminded herself that the man had taken worse beatings from her in basically all of their spars in the last few days.

  “He’s… learning a lesson in manners,” she said with a small smile. “He’ll be back soon enough.”

  He could do with climbing out of whatever mud-choked ditch he’d land in out in the Mistvale Reaches anyway.

  A tiny, adorable frown appeared on Serel’s face as she considered that, but it quickly melted into excitement again as the girl seemed to judge the current situation more important. She turned to Elaria, tugging at her hand and pulling her toward Vera. “Mama, Uncle Vanded gave me a new gift! I want to show it to you! And to the dragon!”

  Elaria glanced at her, staying silent as she allowed herself to be dragged along. Serel came to a stop, situating Elaria directly in front of Vera. The two of them faced each other.

  Vera attempted a polite smile.

  Elaria answered with a cool, unreadable look.

  Serel hesitated, then released Elaria’s hand and slipped past Vera and Caldrin toward Gloria and Hilde. “Gloria, I wanna show Mama the Wick!”

  Serel pointed at the satchel hanging at Gloria’s side. The teen blinked several times, staring from the dragon to Elaria, to Vera, before finally turning to Serel.

  Vera caught Hilde’s gaze briefly. The older woman eyed her before nodding slightly.

  “Girls,” she said, turning to the other two. “Could’a sworn ya both forgot that thing inside with how fast you came runnin’ out here. Why don’t the three of us go fetch it proper?”

  Gloria looked at her mother, mouth opening to say something, then closing again. She glanced between Vera and Elaria. “…Alright, Ma.”

  Serel stared at the two of them, then looked back over her shoulder. Her gaze landed on Vera first, then Elaria, and then the dragon still watching like a silent sentinel.

  “None of you can move!” she eventually declared.

  Vera studied her, hoping there was only genuine innocence behind that request as a small laugh escaped. “We’ll stay right here for the loooong couple of minutes it’ll take you to find it. Pinky promise.”

  Serel ran up to hook a pinky with Vera’s. “Mmm. Okay.” She turned and hurried back to Gloria and Hilde, joining them as they headed inside. Vera mouthed a silent thanks to Hilde before the door closed behind them.

  Then it was back to the awkward tension.

  The very public, awkward tension—judging by the number of faces peeking from windows and clustered further down the street, mostly staring at the dragon.

  Vera glanced at Caldrin, standing tall and composed like the perfect servant beside her, then turned back to Elaria.

  Who was now frowning at her.

  Intensely.

  “How long have you been back?” the woman asked.

  Vera shifted, uncomfortable under that gaze.

  Mostly because she didn’t mind it at all, which was very not appropriate right now. But the part of her terrified of this meeting was wrestling with the part of her that had once written embarrassing backstory notes about Elaria years ago and was now seeing her in person.

  “…A little less than two weeks,” she said, forcing her voice steady.

  Elaria’s expression darkened. “And you thought to hide from me?”

  Vera stiffened, acutely aware of how accurate that was, but thought it was better not to admit it. “What makes you think I was trying to hide?”

  “You didn’t inform me of your return,” the woman said. Her eyes flicked to Stillwake. “And people with nothing to fear typically don’t keep themselves armed.”

  Vera’s lips pressed together. She glanced at Stillwake, then back at Elaria.

  To be entirely, utterly, and painfully honest, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she would need to defend herself sometime soon, so she wasn’t thrilled about putting her weapon away. But after a moment’s internal debate, she let the halberd return to her Vaultring. “I’m not exactly itching for a fight, but it was hard not to be on guard with the air you’re giv—” She stopped, looking Elaria over. “…were giving off.”

  Elaria’s eyes narrowed, and Vera hoped she wasn’t digging her own grave right now.

  “Besides,” she continued anyway, “I’m not sure how I was even supposed to inform you I was back.”

  Somehow, that made Elaria’s look worsen. “Not sure?”

  “…Yeah?”

  “I believe there may be a misunderstanding,” Caldrin spoke up. He lowered his head in Vera’s direction. “The fault for forgetting about this lies solely with me, my lady. You may recall that I mentioned Lady Valecrest’s visit while you were in slumber within Sablewatch Hollow along with the young miss. It has returned to me only now that she entrusted me with an Ashmark so you could contact her the moment you awakened. But, regrettably, due to my negligence while subduing several of the beasts that inhabit Duskfall Vale, I lost that Ashmark, and her request slipped my mind. I will accept any punishment you see fit to impose for this failure.”

  Vera stared at him.

  He forgot? Caldrin? The man who seemed to keep track of literally every hour and every second and who—by his own admission—had a near-perfect memory?

  She didn’t buy it for a single second.

  Which meant he’d ‘lost’ the Ashmark and ‘forgotten’ to tell her about it deliberately.

  Was he… trying to take the blame for her delaying in meeting Elaria? He had mentioned Elaria hadn’t seemed pleased during that earlier visit. Had he recognized Vera’s hesitation—her panic, confusion, and the whiplash of waking up in a new world with a new daughter—and decided she needed more time to get her footing before facing this woman?

  If so…

  She was genuinely grateful.

  She had no idea how she would have handled everything back then. She was glad she’d had time to sort out her feelings about Serel before being thrown into a meeting with Elaria, even if it meant dealing with the woman’s extra irritation now.

  Still, probably best not to display that gratitude out loud.

  Vera cleared her throat. “I’ll figure out how to deal with you later, Caldrin.”

  Elaria’s gaze stayed on him for a moment before shifting back to her. Vera couldn’t tell how much of his excuse the woman actually bought.

  “…Anything you’d like to say?” she asked.

  Elaria didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked once toward the tavern door Serel had disappeared through, then returned to Vera.

  “There is,” she answered. “And you have a great deal to answer for, Mournvale.”