Entropy 💎🐲

The knight entered a guard stance, his sword shining in the cave-lair's torchlight. "Beast!" He called. "What have you done with Her Highness?"

The dragon let out a growl... not of hostility, but of a raw, pure, exasperation. "Miguel... Gods, Miguel, you're an idiot sometimes."

"Deplorable beast! How do you know my name? What vile schemes form behind those monstrous eyes of yours? What have you done with Princess Leonora?"

The clattering of buckles and fastenings echoed across the wind-swept castle tower top,

"Ow. A bit looser. You're pinching my scales."

Miguel frowned a little, as he loosened the satchel-bag's strap a few inches. "Your highness", he muttered. "Are you sure about this journey?"

"Very much so", the beautiful, white-scaled dragon replied, "If I go alone by air, it's less than a day's travel."

Emilio sat on the edge of the fountain under the bright light of a full moon. In the mansion behind him, chattering and the clanging of plates and glasses rang out into the night, slowly dissipating into silence like ripples in a lake.

He turned his head to spot a figure approaching him; a woman in a embroidered dress, with long flowing hair - and a pair of curving, beautiful horns.

The beautiful, lavender predawn light glimmered across forests and fields, lighting a clearing where two figures sat among summer flowers yet to bloom.

Arrânos, my dear friend,
I request your presence in Altamuro once more at the closest opportunity, for your advice and tutorship.

"Are you sure about this...?"
"You've spent the past month since you came here either cooped up in the castle, flying around, or wandering the wilds. You haven't gone out in public since you lit your flame. You need a little time out. Come on, it'll be fun".

"Good thing we keep a lot of goats on the royal estates" Leonora muttered. The cool early autumn air of the courtyard felt lovely on her scales.

Arrânos nudged her with his wing. "Stand back a little, madame. I'm going to get the cooking pit started the traditional way."

The older dragon reared backwards slightly and inhaled, his throat glowing a dull orange for a moment before he blasted a jet of flame over the pit of charcoal and tinder, lighting it. Then, he placed the absolutely massive cooking-pan he had brought with him over it, and begins to place the mutton shanks and mix in the spices, stirring them in with an enormous wooden spoon while almost comically sitting up on his hindlegs.

Maria watched from her paws-dangling perch in the castle's stoutest, oldest branching sycamore, entranced by the delicious sights and smells of cooking. "So... this is dragon cuisine?"

Arrânos smiled, his attention still focused on stirring. "Just a traditional dish of the community where I grew up."

"Wait, dragons have... towns?"

He chuckles. "Not in the same way as human towns, but you're not entirely incorrect, either. Distances are a lot easier to traverse when you have wings, so multiple dragons will settle lairs in a single stretch of wilderness and keep in touch with one another. It's... like a very spread out village."

Leonora scratches her chin with the edge of a wing. "Do you think we can... visit one?"

Arrânos' cheeful expression turns serious, though he never stops stirring. "I... don't know. You girls have been bucking a lot of the traditions and norms around lit-flames like yourself and the old mountain communities tend to be full of stuck up traditionalists. Most of the more open minded types leave to live among humans."

Maria's look turns quizzical, her tail flicking side to side in thought. "Sounds like someone has a sore scale regarding the topic."

This comment finally makes Arrânos stop stirring for a short moment. "... Leonora was right, you are terrifyingly good at sniffing folks out." He sighs, as he returns to the stirring. "I'll consider it."

As the three sit in silence and enjoy the evening, Miguel walks into the courtyard, no doubt drawn by the delicious scent of mutton and spices. He grabs the human-sized serving spoon, and takes a sip of the spice mix.

Arrânos glances over with a look of concern. "Uh, you might want to wait for the yogurt..."

But it's too late. Miguel has turned as red as a beet, his eyes watering. Yet under the assault of a dozen mountain spices, his resolve does not waver. He stands there, in a wide stance like he's taking a punch, willing himself to withstand the ravages of a curry not exactly balanced for the human palate.

Arrânos sits in silence, genuinely impressed with his resolve and stamina. The girls break down into their snarling, joyful laughter.

Arrânos smiles. To see a human so comfortable around dragons, and young lit-flames so unafraid to show their scales... the world is changing, for the better.