Spring, 1331

As the pattering of raindrops outside reached a crescendo Logan sat at his workbench table with a mug of ale and stared at his old dragon comrade, who having shaken himself dry was sitting on his haunches staring miserably at a barrel of lager held in his good forepaw, the other hanging limply in a dirty sling around the wyrm’s neck.

The Forester briefly thought about De Trobliand’s words on the threat Meratezatgh posed and the necessity of killing him quickly, and of his awlpike leaning on the table beside him. One smooth motion, a thrust through the eye, and Logan would have killed another dragon. And another friend.

Instead Logan continued with the conversation. “So you’re saying that the Northerners enslaved the Queen of your people-”

“No, no, our World Shaman, the only dragon the entire nation of my people could be willing to listen to-”

“-and are forcing you guys to fight? That’s quite hard to believe.” Logan took a sip of his ale. “Dragons? Slaves forced to fight for the Other Men?”

The dragon took a deep quaff from his barrel.

“It’s complicated.”

“If your Queen is not actually the queen of your people, why do you care?”

“You humans have your lords, your kings, your priests, your Great Deity. The World Shaman is our connection to our ancestors and our spirits. She is strong, but not the strongest, she is intelligent, but not the most intelligent, she is old, but not the oldest, yet the Jutrstra is most in tune with the World and its ways. There are some dragons who don’t care, there are some dragons who dislike her, but nevertheless all respect her and most of my people would come to her for advice. The World Shaman is as close to a leader as you would get among my people.”

“But all the dragons-”

“Not all, but perhaps most. There’s also more to this whole thing than just loyalty to our leader. My people are angry Logan, angry at your people. Some were trapped by their greed. Some by their fury about human incursions. Some fell for the promises that the Tassurians would let us be. I wanted no part of this, but with my spiritual leader held hostage, and my friends and neighbors willing to fight for her, I was forced in as well. One’s dead now, another’s probably crippled, as am I.”

“Well, serves your friends and neighbors right for-”

“Please Logan, for the sake of our relationship, let’s not ever talk about Thergamorth again.” The dragon sighed deeply. “Trust me-this last year has been a confusing mess for me as well.”

The Forester slowly exhaled his mouth. “How can I trust you? You went against your oath and slaughtered my people.”

“I had to. I was forced to for my Shaman. And my people are dying as well, Logan.”

“That would not have happened if they didn’t join the war.”

“They were already dying! We were fighting a war long before the Other Men invaded Auxia!” Anger returned to the dragon.

Logan thought about his polearm again. He would have to lean in, throw his weight into his hips and violently thrust upwards with both arms.

Mera however stopped and shook his head. “Come on Logan, you’ve known me for five years. I spared your life and you saved mine. I saved you again at the Devil’s Pass. What do you think was going through my head when I found you on that field there? Why would I betray that trust that we agreed upon so many years ago? I’m sorry, but it was something I was forced into. I wanted to balance between your World and mine, but now everything I have ever believed in is crashing into each other.”

“I see. So, then, we’re back to you versus I, dragon versus dragonslayer, much like it was five years ago.”

“No. The Truce still applied to Stanton. I made sure of that among my people even when I was in the Tassurian forces. I made an oath, and I did my best to abide by it, even when the World tried to turn me against it.”

Logan ran his hand through his hair. “So you want me to forgive you for what had happened over this past year, and to risk my life to help your people?”

“Helping me will help your people as well. I think my people are wary and disillusioned with this conflict. I was never into this war, but I had loyalty to my people and my leader. Now there are rumors that we are all to be slaughtered at the end of this war. If you help us, I think we’re willing to turn on the Other Men.”

The dragon sighed and leaned down, resting his free forepaw on his chin.

“Look, both of our peoples have bled enough already. I just want a way for this slaughter to end.”

Logan stopped. That was the old Meratezatgh.

De Trobliand’s words echoed in his head.

The dragon's too dangerous to live.

Eh fuck it.

The hunter leaned back on his chair and smiled.

“Still, all things considered, it sounds like you got a pretty good deal working with the Tassurians. A major’s rank, nice perks, furlough-best any of us could get in this war. Perhaps your World Shaman is safe. Why are you willing to betray the Other Men over some mere hearsay?”

Mera lowered his head and glared at the Forester’s teasing. “They enslaved my people and I, forced us to fight their wars where my friends were killed and I nearly lost my arm and now they’re torturing other friends and talking about slaughtering us before we grow rebellious!” The dragon seethed. “What’s not to prevent me from betraying them? Some stupid title and a bigger bone?”

“Fair.” Logan took a large gulp from his mug. “So what do you plan to do, and why do you need my help?”

The Pogues - A Rainy Night In Soho

Amazing commission by the great Shamerli !

Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/56062413/