#chatper 1

By: R. B. Mangold

Mahrie looked back over her shoulder as she entered the jungle. In the distance she could still see the outer walls of Kesh Nakael. The journey to the Crimson Vale was a short distance from the city and she knew she could be there and back in two chimes. She had journeyed out this way hundreds of times and it was in the Vale that she felt free. Perhaps it was because she was truly alone in the jungle or perhaps because the happy ghosts of her past still resided within the thick overgrowth.

Thirty years ago she had called the Vale her home and thirty years ago the village of Luwan Kael thrived there. But thirty years ago Zaer came and King Vaen Dumaval had surrendered without a fight. The King of Zaer, King Tzored, abhorred the Umbralans and the village of Luwan Kael was home to Kesh Nakael’s Umbralan population. Many chose exile and fled into the deserts of the west. A desperate few, along with Mahrie and her wife Izmelda, decided to try and make a stand; it was the worst mistake she’d ever made.

King Vaen, then retitled as Contran Vaen by his new Zaeran masters, attacked the village in the night. As a display of loyalty he burned the village of Luwan Kael and killed all who resisted. The villagers had never stood a chance and it was Izmelda’s dying wish that Mahrie take their daughter and flee into the jungle. Being eclipsed, Mahrie and her daughter Vrena were able to blend in with the rest of the humans of Kesh Nakael so when things calmed down she’d returned to the city and built a new life.

Today the people of Kesh Nakael would be celebrating the anniversary of the city-state joining the Zaeran Empire, but for Mahrie it was a moment for her to slip away and hold her own vigil for her wife. Walking through the jungle she found the path that had once led to Luwan Kael. Now overgrown, the paving stones were mostly hidden and covered with moss.

Despite its troubled history, the Crimson Vale was beautiful. The jungle got its name from the foliage which had red tipped leaves as if some spirit or creature had painted the tip of each leaf one by one with vivid shades of red. The Vale was a lush expanse nestled in the hills to the west of the Kesh Nakael. 

It didn’t take long for Mahrie to find the ruins of Luwan Kael. All that remained now were the abandoned sandstone walls of the village and even those ruins were concealed by decades of dense overgrowth. Finding the small stream which ran along the southern edge of the ruins, Mahrie followed it to the Grotto of Asueala. Mahrie passed through a moss covered tunnel and made her way into the grotto. The grotto was a section of the natural tunnel where the ceiling had collapsed and a small stream trickled down the far wall with red and gold flowers growing in thick vines. At the far end of the Grotto was the small moss covered shrine to Asueala, goddess of the Umbralans.

In the aftermath of the attack Mahrie had buried Izmelda next to the shrine. King Tzored had forbidden the worship of Asueala and so the shrine was now left unattended. As far as Mahrie knew she was the only one who still ventured out this way and the only person left in Kesh Nakael who still left offerings and prayers to the goddess. She had brought one such offering today and placed a small stick of incense onto the altar and then lit it with her flint letting the fragrant floral smell fill the space. She bowed her head and then brushed the dead leaves off of the base of the small statue of Asueala. The goddesses face still smiled and her arms were held up in a circular pose where she held a downward facing crescent moon above her head.

After paying her respects to the goddess Mahrie turned to the spot where she’d buried Izmelda. She’d left a stone to mark the spot with her name carved upon its surface.

“You’d be so proud of Vrena,” Mahrie started as she knelt at the grave and placed a bouquet of flowers that she produced from her satchel. “She and her husband have a thriving bakery in the city. No grandchildren yet, but I suspect in time that’ll change.”

A tear ran down Mahrie’s cheek and fell to the soft earth at the foot of the grave. Izmelda hadn’t been an Umbralan, she was a priestess of Asueala. They could have fled into the desert, found a home in distant Nul Azel or the realm of Nur to the west. But the people of Luwan Kael were Izmelda’s flock. Mahrie had understood when Izmelda had decided to stay, to protect and guide the few villagers who had refused to leave. At the time Mahrie had felt as though she were being supportive, that she was being brave. Since then Mahrie had cursed herself a thousand times for not being more selfish that day, for not insisting that they’d left. Her misguided support had led them down a path of misery. Those villagers who’d stayed all died and so there had been no point in staying. It hadn’t mattered what they did or how noble their intentions were, staying just meant they shared in the same horrible fate.

But dwelling on those poor decisions only opened wounds that had turned to scars in Mahrie’s heart. It had been a lifetime ago and now at the age of fifty nine Mahrie had found small comforts in her life. She had her daughter, and hopefully soon grandchildren and then there was her job as Contrina Dranora Dumaval’s Lady’s Maid. The pay was good and she was able to give most of her money to her daughter.

It helped that Contrina Dranora was a kind mistress, though that was a bit of an understatement. In the five years that Mahrie had been serving Dranora they had become close friends. The line often blurred between their professional relationship and their personal one. It was likely because Dranora had never truly put roots down within the social circles of Kesh Nakael and also that the two women shared similar interests, such as a love of geography, bird watching and romantic literature. Mahrie really didn’t want anything except for some rest and the presence of Izmalda’s memory.

Mahrie spent most of the day at the grotto. She had no interest in the celebrations happening in the city and so once the sun was low in the sky she made her way back through the Vale and into the city. Though she was an Umbralan she was one of the rare ‘eclipsed’ Umbralans. Unlike most of her kin, she did not have the blue-gray skin or the vibrant colored eyes. Her heritage and nature blended in with the rest of the humans of Kesh Nakael. 

Asueala had fashioned the Umbralan’s from humans and so every few generations a handful were born with features that were more akin to humanity. As such Mahrie’s lightly tanned skin, dark brown hair, which had begun to turn silver, and green eyes all hid her identity as an Umbralan. Vrena had been born with Izmelda’s features, her fair complexion and deep blue eyes and dark blond hair. Umbralans who married humans had a half and half chance to have either a human or Umbralan child and since Vrena was human it meant that she blended in with the rest of the people of Kesh Nakael.

It had of course meant that Mahrie was condemned to a life of loneliness. Having a romantic partner would mean that she would have to expose herself as an Umbralan. Umbralans were all feminine, though like humans they had two sexes, even if humans couldn’t discern them from their appearance. Within Umbralan communities parents were described as being earth-mothers or sky-mothers. The earth-mothers, like the earth itself carried their children in their wombs and the sky-mothers, such as Mahrie and like the sky itself, rained the spark of life upon the earth as rain clouds did. It was this aspect of herself that would reveal her hidden truth. Mahrie had considered journeying to the west to find a new life in lands that were more tolerant, but Vrena was here and she had a life and was building a family. Besides, the journey into the west was fraught with dangers and she often told herself she was too old to face such perils. So it was easy to convince herself to stay and enjoy being with her daughter rather than to leave and find a life and possibly a romance that may not have existed at all. Chasing mirages in the desert seemed like another mistake and she’d made enough of those already. It would have made more sense if she had convinced Izmelda so many years ago to have left with her, but she hadn’t and so this was the crop she’d sown and would reap from.

Mahrie slipped through the city unnoticed, not that anyone cared much for her coming and going. The people of Kesh Nakael were busy in their celebrations dancing and reveling in the festivities. As Mahrie ascended the stoned walkway towards the palace she wondered at the possibility of a romance. Such flights of her imagination struck her every so often, less as she got older, but they still happened. She spied glimpses of young couples embracing. Even a pair of young women were locked in a passionate kiss. She knew it wasn’t a thought worth dwelling on, not if she wanted to stay close to her daughter, but she couldn’t help feeling the gnawing of loneliness upon her heart. It had been a long three decades and for the most part she had thrown herself into her work at the palace. She had risen from a chambermaid all the way to the coveted position of Lady’s Maid, which made her one of the highest ranking members of the palace staff.

Upon reaching her room she opened the small box on her dresser and found the pendant of Asueala. It was one of the few relics she’d held onto from her prior life and holding it in her hand she said one more prayer to the goddess. At first it had been a prayer for her daughter’s happiness but it ended with a sudden mental plea, …and a reprieve from this loneliness. It had been an unconscious plea, one that shocked her even after thinking it. Mahrie sighed and chuckled sardonically to herself, kissed the pendant and returned it to the box on her dresser.

“That caravan left long ago,” Mahrie murmured to herself and chuckled once more.

The sun had set and the city was still alive with celebrations. Most of the palace staff had been relieved of their duties for the day which gave the palace a quiet, almost abandoned feel to it. Much of the staff wouldn’t return until after the two day festivities. Only a handful of people remained, Mahrie included, along with some of the kitchen staff to make food for those who remained along with the guards who patrolled the outer walls of the palace and kept watch during the night.

The night was hot and Mahrie was thirsty after her trek into the jungle. She took off her green travel dress and put on a beige nightgown. The thinner material was a nice reprieve from the heat. Her quarters were on the same floor and tower as Contrina Dranora’s. The palace had two large square towers which jutted up from the base of the palace. Originally the tower to the east was called the Queen’s Tower, but after Zaer it was renamed the Contrina’s Tower. A bridge connected the Contrina’s Tower to the Contran’s tower where Contran Urstrar Dumaval’s chambers were. The perk of being on the same floor as the Contran and Contrina meant that it was mostly deserted after hours. Only Mahrie and Contrina Dronora remained after hours so Mahrie could move about in her cool gown without scrutiny or question, Dranora had never minded. As mistresses went Contrina Dranora was often kind and understanding towards her staff.

Mahrie slipped out of her room and went to the serving parlor on the far end of the floor. Fresh jugs of water, fruit and food were kept there after hours if Contrina Dranora needed anything and a small tray of food and a jug of water was left for Mahrie. Mahrie poured herself a cool glass of water and then padded back down the hallway towards her room eager to rest. As she passed Contrina Dranora’s slightly cracked door she heard a sound.

“Mahrie?” The familiar voice of Contrina Dranora called out.

Mahrie stifled the urge to sigh in disappointment, she had almost made it to her room and instead quickly composed herself and gently opened the door. “Yes mistress?”

The door opened revealing the familiar lavishly decorated room that was Contrina Dranora’s personal chambers. The door leading to the bridge that connected her chamber to her husband’s was open and the silken curtains and drapery wafted gently in the evening breeze. In the distance the sounds of celebration echoed in the city below but in contrast Dranora’s face was stained with tears that Dranora quickly wiped away the sleeve of her gossamer purple nightgown.

Though unusual, Mahrie had seen Dranora cry a few times in the last two years and her mistress, her friend, had begun confiding in Mahrie regularly, often seeking advice or solace in her marital abandonment. Dranora was hardly the type of person Mahrie would consider emotional. She was, by the forging of her upbringing, a commanding presence and a pillar of confidence. Rarely did Dranora make rash decisions or succumb to outside influences. She was a natural skeptic and questioned authority while projecting it. This was often evident in her collect of books that had been banned by King Tzored, many of which included Umbralan romance or themes. 

Dranora was twenty four years Mahrie’s younger and it was no secret that the noble couple had been having issues. Dranora had been married to Urstrar, the eldest son of the now deceased Vaem, five years ago. In that time the couple had gone from jovial and amorous to cold and removed. It had started two years ago when no heir had been produced and in time it had worsened until a half a year ago when Urstrar decided to take not one, but two concubines to speed the creation of an heir.

“I-,” Dranora choked on her words as she collected herself. “You’re not at the celebration?”

The question came off as both an inquiry and a sort of mild accusation as if Dranora had expected to be alone.

“No, I’m not one for the Imperial Celebration,” Mahrie nodded. “You did not want to attend? She quickly added turning the focus back onto her mistress.

“No,” Dranora answered meekly and then crossed the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “He’s with them again,” Dranora bit her lip in bitter jealousy.

By he, Mahrie knew Dranora meant her husband, Urstrar, and by them she interpreted the concubines, Naneesh and Zavra. Marhie didn’t like to involve herself in the couple’s politics, but it came with the territory of being the Lady’s Maid.

“He will come to you again,” Mahrie reassured Dranora with the only words she knew to use. In truth Mahrie was at a loss on how to console the young woman and would have liked to have kept a healthy emotional distance.

“No he won’t,” Dranora replied bitterly. “He will have an heir with one of them and I will be expected to take that… child,” Dranora paused as though she were silently adding more insults to her statement and then continued, “as my own. As if being pushed aside wasn’t insulting enough.”

“You are very beautiful, he will return to you when he grows tired of this tryst,” Mahrie offered once again.

Mahrie wasn’t exaggerating, Dranora was uncommonly beautiful. The daughter of the Contran of Zael, Dranora had been sought after by all of the highest of Zaeran nobility. Her father had married her to Urstrar to help solidify his hold over the southern cities of the Empire, which in turn made him a favorite of King Tzored. Were Mahrie younger and of noble stalk she’d have considered Dranora very attractive and desirable. However, none of those things were true and she had always done her best to push such distracting thoughts away from the surface of her mind.

“You are kind to say that,” Dranora conceded, finally forcing herself to push aside her sadness. Such a display would normally be considered vulgar coming from a Contrina, but with Mahrie, Dranora knew she was safe. It was a point of personal pride that Mahrie never spread gossip and was one of the reasons she’d risen so high within the palace over the years.

“Will you sit with me,” Dranora patted the spot next to her on the edge of the bed.

“I-,” Mahrie began to object.

“I would greatly appreciate it,” Dranora quickly added, stifling Mahrie’s objections.

“But if your husband were to-” Mahrie began again.

“He won’t,” Dranora patted the spot again and added, “He is with both of them and tomorrow all three of them will be leaving for Zaer to join the King in his campaign against Nur.”

“I see,” Mahrie nodded and placed the cup of water on the dresser next to the door and then took a seat next to Dranora.

“It’s why I’m so distraught,” Dranora filled in the gaps. “He says it’s because my constitution is too delicate, but I know it’s because he is done with me.”

There was a long moment of silence between the women before Dranora stiffened and added, “And perhaps I’m done with him. Perhaps I will have a lover of my own.”

“Would the Contran allow that?” Mahrie wondered.

It was not unheard of, Urstrar gained much from his marriage with Dranora and spurring her completely would cause him to lose standing with Dranora’s father and in return the King. In such scenarios couples often took lovers but kept their marriages going for the political gain that it offered. Dranora’s value to Urstrar afforded her a latitude of freedom. She could of course demand the Contran’s blessing for such a boon but with her leverage over her husband. However, it would likely be better to just take a lover and then deal with the fallout if and when it ever came.

“It matters little what he will allow,” Dranora said in a flimsy but haughty voice as she drew the same conclusion. “Do you really think that I’m beautiful?” Dranora asked.

“I do,” Mahrie admitted.

“I think you are as well,” Dranora blushed slightly and rubbed her knees.

Realization flashed in Mahrie’s mind. Was this something Dranora had been considering? Did she want to take a servant, her servant as a lover? It was an ideal cover for an affair, but Mahrie would have to find a way to divert this sudden interest. But was it sudden? Taking a moment to think Mahrie realized that she had caught Dranora gazing at her many times throughout the years. Perhaps this wasn’t some emotional fling but a long standing attraction. Mahrie had always pushed such thoughts aside, but perhaps Dranora had spent that time indulging in such fantasies.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Dranora stated.

Mahrie hadn’t realized she’d gone tense and calmed her mistress' concern.

“I-,” Mahrie began, “Thank you for your kind words, to be appreciated at my age is a rare thing. No one has said as much since my spouse died,” Mahrie hid the gender of her late wife. 

Dranora had known about Mahrie’s daughter, it was no secret, but most assumed that Mahrie had been the birth mother, the earth-mother, and so she just never bothered to correct them. It was better that way. For others to think she’d been married to a man in the past, otherwise there would be too many questions and those questions could lead back to her daughter in a very destructive way.

“You’re safe with me,” Dranora leaned closer and gave her the most reassuring smile she’d ever seen her mistress produce. “I would never betray your trust or your secrets.”

“My secrets?” Mahrie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That…” Dranora paused and then looked confused as well. “I thought you knew that I knew.”

“That you know what?” Mahrie was genuinely confused and her mind spun at the thought that her mistress was under some false impression of her.

“Once again I am sorry,” Dranora’s face flushed. “I will say no more.”

Now Mahrie needed to know.

“What secret do you think I’m hiding?” Mahrie insisted. She would not have normally been so forward with Dranora but she couldn’t hold back, not with the threat of scandal hovering above her.

“That you are Eclipsed,” Dranora replied and winced at having the words pulled out of her.

And there it was, Mahrie’s secret, her truth, the truth she had thought she’d hid so well over the decades was out there in the open. In an instant it was as if her world was on the verge of imploding. She would have to flee, leave into the desert and try to brave the wilds to find a safe harbor. Her mistake, her failure, of staying in Kesh Nakael was finally and in the most bitter irony complete… and that was if she would even have the chance to flee.

It was clear that Dranora could see the horror playing out across Mahrie’s face. Dranora raised her hands in a calming gesture, as if she were calming a startled Armasaur. “Please, you are safe with me, perhaps this…” Dranora paused, stood and went to her jewelry cabinet.

After a moment Dranora produced a small shimmering pendant and hung it out so that Mahrie could see. It was the downward facing moon of Asueala, just like her own except covered in fine jewels and made of precious metals.

“My grandmother gave it to me,” Dranora explained. “Her favorite goddess was Ansueala and she taught me about her. Before Zaer took over Zael she had a lover as well, an Umbralan woman…”

Dranora trailed off and sat down once again next to Mahrie. The shock had finally passed but Mahrie was still overwhelmed by everything she was hearing.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” Dranora admitted. “But I’d never want to drive you away or to make you feel vulnerable because I knew, the truth is I-,” Dranora paused then added quickly, “I admire you so much.”

Dranora’s plea had been made, it was now up to Mahrie to consider what was being proposed and if anything was being proposed. Was her mistress, Contrina Dranora Dumaval of Kesh Nakael proposing a romantic tryst with her? Such an affair would come with great risk, mainly to herself. It wasn’t that she was disinterested in the proposition, more so that the idea of its possibility had never crossed her mind. Mahrie wanted to flee to her room, or perhaps further, to her daughter’s house or even the grotto in the jungle. This could not be happening. But it was, despite her disbelief and shock her mistress had made an overture towards her.

The advance was not an unwanted one, just profoundly unexpected. Mahrie feared that such confessions were due to the stress Dranora was under, but she knew that wasn’t quite right. Dranora’s marriage had been failing for years and this was just the next chapter in the doom of her matrimony. The women had often discussed romance and read the most salacious books together. Their emotional intimacy had been established for quite some time. If anything Mahrie’s hesitancy was born out of a fear of jeopardizing the relationship they’d already established.

It was clear to Dranora amidst the awkward pause, that she would need to lead the way. As Contrina she was used to taking the lead and being an entity that projected authority and will to those around her. However, she knew this was far too delicate a situation to just will into existence and so she decided to signal that the door was open the only way she could. She reached out and touched Mahrie’s hand. There was no tension, Mahrie did not recoil, there was just a quiet moment between the two women.

“Your safety and comfort are paramount to me,” Dranora reassured. “If you want nothing to do with this then I understand and nothing will change between us. I value your friendship more than anything that could happen.”

There it was, the proposal and an exit. Dranora had laid herself bare before Mahrie and placed all the power in her hands. It was such an alien feeling that Mahrie had no idea what to do with it. She’d never had power, or at least not in the last three decades. It was not unheard of for nobility to have trysts with their staff, she told herself again, but it was not something that Mahrie had been prepared for.

“Mistress,” Mahrie began.

“You can call me Dranora,” Dranora corrected.

“Dranora,” Mahrie replied, the name feeling like a foreign word upon her tongue. “I cannot say that this is entirely unwelcome…” Mahrie trailed off.

“But you’re not sure,” Dranora finished with a hint of bated disappointment.

“I’m not,” Mahrie nodded. “I need time…” Mahrie trailed off once again, she desperately wanted to think.

“Time you can have,” Dranora paused, looked down at where she was touching Mahrie’s hand and then looked back up adding, “But first, may I kiss you?”

Mahrie instinctively wanted to object but something inside her, a small voice she’d not heard in her mind for three decades begged, no, insisted that she accept.

“Yes,” Mahrie conceded to the primal voice in her mind.

Before she could reconsider and retreat back to her self imposed isolation, back to the safety she clung to, Dranora moved in and pressed her lips against her own. It was a quick touch, a gentle peck that lasted but a handful of seconds, but Mahrie couldn’t deny that it felt good, it felt right. With Dranora so close Mahrie could smell the floral scent of Dranora’s nightgown. It was a scent Mahrie was very familiar with, afterall she placed the flower petals in Dranora’s dresser each evening so that her clothing smelled fresh and alluring. But this was different, the familiar smell mixed with the gentle musk of the other woman’s body creating a bouquet that was unique and enticing.

In those precious seconds Mahrie’s heart pounded, her blood grew warm and her cheeks burned with desire. That primal voice wanted her to continue, wanted more. It pushed her to kiss back, to wrap Dranora in her arms and to hold her tight and to be held in return. But it was all so sudden and Mahrie needed to clear her head. Too much was at stake, she trusted Dranora’s intentions, she knew the young woman well, and had spent the last five years attending to her. However, there was too much to consider and the kiss had left her mind clouded with desire.

The kiss was over as quickly as it had begun. Mahrie hadn’t realized she’d lost her breath and after a deep gulp of air she nodded to her mistress… no to Dranora saying, “I just need time to consider.”

“Of course, I’ll let you be,” Dranora agreed and took her hand back.

The sudden removal of Dranora’s hand left a cold and empty feeling upon Mahrie. The warmth and comfort that had been lost to her life had sparked and vanished so quickly in that instant. Swiftly, but not to appear as to flee, Mahrie stood, curtsied to Dranora and retrieved her water. She took one look back at Dranora who nodded with a kind look and then left the room and made her way down the hall to her room.

In the solitude and privacy of her quarters Mahrie breathed deeply. It took a few moments for her to regain her composure. She drank her water, laid in her bed and tried not to think of Dranora’s passionate embrace. Every time she thought she’d pushed away such thoughts a new one sprouted like flowers in the landscape of her mind. Thoughts of Dranora’s touch, her kiss and more permeated the edges of Mahrie’s imagination.

It was in those fitful hours as she tried to sleep that she began to grasp just how isolated she’d become. The garden of her life had gone from one that was filled with beautiful flowers to a landscape devoid of color and full of utilitarian shrubbery, shrubbery that she could hide herself in. She had boiled down her existence to pure survival and hadn’t allowed the notion of letting another person in to breath in her mind for decades. Despite the passionate thoughts invading her mind she wondered if she even had the capacity to love still within her.

When she was at the edge of sleep she had considered what had caused this sudden shift in Dranora’s behavior. The logical aspect of her mind knew the young woman had been suffering in a failing marriage now for years. Dranora and her husband had now faced more bad years than good and the fruit of their marriage was clearly withering on the vine. However, the spiritual part of her mind wondered if perhaps it was that unconscious prayer Mahrie had made to Asueala. Had the goddess been listening? There was no way to know, and perhaps it was a bit of both that had led Mahrie to this point.

What remained of her thoughts as she crossed the threshold of consciousness into sleep was that primal voice within her. It didn’t matter where it had all come from, it told her. All that mattered was that she wanted it to continue.  

Afterward

Thank you for reading the first chapter of The Lady’s Maid. The Lady’s Maid is a sort of side story to a novel I’ve been working on. In the world of Xoran readers will find romance, magic, dinosaur-like creatures and ancient civilizations with far reaching impacts. As a side story, The Lady’s Maid follows some of the events of the main novel (which at this time is still pending publication). Hopefully this story, posted to my blog, gives readers like yourself a glimpse into the world I’ve been crafting, one that is transgender and intersex inclusive amidst elements of sapphic romance and fantasy filled adventure. I plan to continue writing and developing Mahrie and Dranora’s story alongside my main novel and hope that you’ll return for more as the story continues to develop.

© 2025 R. B. Mangold, All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 1 : Shizuka and Nobisuke

Chapter 1: Do You Have Time For a Riddle?

Summary:  Edward is a homeless con man, conning people out of their money using riddles. Jonathan is a student at Gotham City University, where he's studying to be a psychiatrist that specializes in fear. Jon takes in Edward, and together they become two of the most well-known villains throughout Gotham. However, the Batman, who claims to want to help the rogues, starts terrorizing them.

Tags: r*pe/n*n-c*n, Graphic depictions of violence, needles, internalized transphobia, internalized homophobia, (Jon doesn’t r*pe Edward, dw)

Notes: Jon and Edward do not rape or abuse each other. This is the first fic I will have written in over 5 years, and I’m really excited! I hope you guys enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Chapter One

Spotify

“I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough…”

My world turned upside down with one order of tea. Who fucking knew? One cuppa tea, and my solace of security and sanity came crashing down like a meteor rushing towards Earth.

And I loved every goddamned minute of it.

.

"I do not think this is the right place."

The boy's voice echoed incredulously against the high corridors of the tower.

Rafar was close behind him, testing the air with a flick of his tongue. The walls were covered in a layer of fine silt, and the air tasted old as if it had not been disturbed for a number of years. Light poured in from a narrow hole high in the ceiling, and with every gust of wind overhead the whole tower bellowed with a low, hollow howling.  They stood in a circular room that connected five long corridors. The intricate patterns hewn into the stone beneath their feet diverged from the center, into the halls. And in the center stood a pool of clear water, as blue as the sky it reflected.

Rafar took a few scaly steps forward, as slowly and cautiously as his solemn nature allowed.  "I do not think there will be much of a threat."  A flick of the tongue."This place is inhabited by only one person. They do not know we are here. And they seem benevolent."

A scoff. "Your tongue cannot tell you everything, as much as you like to think it does."

Kaj came to the side of his companion, noticing their reflection in the pool. What an unlikely pair, he thought. A great horned lizard and a solitary black haired boy wearing a bright blue sash across his chest. As he leaned over the rippling water, a pendant dislodged itself from his sash and clung to his neck by a thread.

He took it into his hand, forming a fist around it and squeezing.  Soon, he told himself. Soon.

"Kaj," came Rafar's voice in a hushed, cautious whisper. The boy stood straight and looked up.

"Visitors? How strange."

His gaze met the countenance of an elderly woman dressed in plain brown cloths as dusty as the room itself. Her eyes and smile spoken of kindness and hospitality that Kaj recalled seeing in the eyes of mothers as they crossed paths.

He straightened himself up, dusting a bit of sand off his chest before bowing his head in respect. "Good day, miss. We did not mean to intrude but— um, we were intending to take shelter from the high-sun for the time being."  This was actually an excuse to satisfy Kaj's innate curiosity. When Rafar sensed as much, he flicked his tail at the boy's bottom sharply, sending a jolt of surprise up the boy's unsuspecting spine.

"Rafar! What in the name of—"

Kaj cut himself short as the old woman gave a good-natured laugh. "You mustn't worry, I enjoy company. It has been a long time since I have seen anyone here— much less anyone as young as yourself. Come, I will take you to the library."

When Kaj turned to give the lizard an incredulous look, he found a smirk of amusing on the reptile's face, much to the boy's chagrin.  .

He made a point of stepping on his companion's tail before running off to follow the woman.