Page 95 of By Fang and Fire

They stood looking at it for a long while, then Adrissu glanced over at Pollux.

“Any news from your travels?” he asked. The other dragon had been gone a few days—he was rarely away for more than a week—but could travel quite far in that time. His most recent journey had been out toward Gylnefjell, which typically meant he would stop in to see Naydruun and Viona, and they often had news or gossip to share with him.

“Yes, actually,” Pollux said, his tone suddenly light, which made Adrissu tense. It would be something about Autreth, maybe even Polimnos, when he got that tone. “They told me that the Dragonslayer Cannon has further expanded production—the reinforced one they developed after we left. Seven dragons have been slain by the cannons now, so word is spreading that any dragons taking up residence within the borders of Autreth should leave. Dragons that know of other dragons in Autreth are encouraged to help them flee and find a new lair.”

“Helpthem,” Adrissu repeated, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Things must truly be dire, then.”

“I think dragonkind is fearful of extinction for perhaps the first time in its history,” Pollux agreed, sighing. For a moment, they were both silent, considering the enormity of such a thing. All in all, Adrissu supposed that, in hindsight, leaving Autreth when they did worked out in their favor.

“And anything of Polimnos?” he asked softly. “The Academy?”

That was the only thing that still hurt to think about now. The Academy had been the focus of his work for centuries; even now, it still felt strange to be without it. He still continued his own research, as much as he could in their far more remote home. He would even sometimes take on a disguised appearance to visit the library in Gennemont, when he could manage that long of a flight with his injured shoulder; but it was not the same.

“Yes,” Pollux said, and a small thrill of excitement raced through Adrissu’s heart. “Shima is still headmistress, but the academy has officially begun proceedings to elect a new headmaster. She’s planning to step down once they do.”

“I suppose it has been that long now,” Adrissu sighed, glancing away. She was only a quarter elf, after all, so while he was unsure of her exact age now, he guessed she was somewhere around a century. Her father, Ned, had died perhaps a decade ago, but Adrissu never looked into who took over as headmaster of the secondary campus—it was only a matter of time before the institution became something that he no longer had any familiarity with at all.

“Naydruun and Viona have invited us to come visit them in Gylnefjell,” Pollux said, wrapping one arm around Adrissu’s waist, knowing the dark turn his thoughts had taken. “I think it would be nice to go. It’s not as cold there, either—maybe we could spend a good bit of the winter with them.”

Their relationship with the other couple had been born out of necessity at first—it was the first place they could think of to get back on their feet, after being forced to leave Polimnos. Their initial stay had been tense, as it had only been Naydruun then, but the other dragon ultimately wanted to help and felt they owed a debt to Adrissu for how he had helped them before. It was Naydruun who watched over them when Adrissu was too injured to do much more than lie there in misery, and who helped them find a place to set up their new lair. Perhaps most important of all, Naydruun had said nothing about Pollux’s draconic form; they seemed a bit unsettled, at first, but they never asked about it. There was an unspoken understanding that they had done what needed to be done.

If dragons could be friends with each other, he thought they were certainly friends at that point. Then Viona found her way back to Naydruun a few years ago, and most of her memories of Adrissu were intact, so their friendship with her grew as well. Now the other couple was their main lifeline to the outside world and draconic society at large, since Adrissu and Pollux were deep in the mountains, while Naydruun and Viona were just beneath Gylnefjell.

“I think that would be nice,” Adrissu agreed, leaning into Pollux. “Maybe for the new year.”

Pollux nodded, and they both stood silently for a little while, admiring their arboretum.

“Oh,” Pollux said, looking back the way they came. “I brought some of that Aefrayan willow you asked about, and more parchment, too.”

Adrissu’s eyes lit up as he grinned. “Perfect!”

When they had fled Polimnos, the majority of his personal library was destroyed in the tower, or left behind in the lair below. They had risked returning only once, to gather up the most valuable items to help re-establish their own hoard; while the lair was untouched, to Adrissu’s relief, anything that had been in the tower was long gone. It was then that they had finally burned Pollux’s elven body to ash, deciding it was too risky to leave it where it still might be discovered.

To occupy himself now, Adrissu had been painstakingly recreating many of the books that he once had, especially the draconic tomes that were largely irreplaceable. He had been working on transcribing from memory the tome he had received from his grandmother, so long ago now, that described the soul-binding ritual. Every time Pollux left, Adrissu asked him to keep an eye out for examples of each of the components to bring home, so that his sketches would be as accurate as possible.

“Come on,” Pollux said, holding his hand. “I’ll help you get it set up in your study.”

Adrissu followed him, but paused to glance back at the sebran sapling. It was young and small, but already he liked to look at its yellow leaves and their velvety coloration. It reminded him of Aefraya and of Polimnos all at once.

“Coming?” Pollux asked in a teasing tone, tugging his hand. Adrissu looked back at him, his gaze softening. His mate was here, with him forever, so everything had been worth it in the end.

“I was just thinking it looks good there,” he said.

“It does,” Pollux agreed. “I hope it lives.”

Adrissu gave one last glance at the new sapling. A single beam of sunlight still came down through the skylight above, warming the sapling’s yellow leaves before nightfall. He could imagine it already: a tall, broad sebran tree giving the arboretum a golden glow with its vibrant leaves and filling the chamber with its distinctive scent.

“I think it will.”

THE END