Melusine sat in a tavern across the block from Petri's shop, Baugulf eating a bowl of stew across from her. Mel picked at the fresh greens on her tin plate, separating the grapes and blueberries from the vegetables. She was slightly baffled at how intensely she felt the sword's absence at her back. It was only across the street, being tenderly cared for by Petri. Yet with it gone she felt empty and lost. Was this the sword's curse, or was she simply discovering a love for swordplay and combat?

"Have you picked out a name yet?" Baugulf asked, swallowing a spoonful of stew and interrupting Mel's pondering.

"For the sword?" Melusine guessed after some thought. Baugulf hummed and nodded his head, taking another bite of his meal. Melusine rolled a grape across her plate with a fork. "I still don't understand the importance of the tradition, but... maybe Spider."

"Why Spider?"

"Because of what I killed to earn it, and the way it flies at me brings to mind a jumping spider that once attacked me."

Baugulf laughed in the face of her childhood trauma, and earned himself a kick under the table.

"Ouch... okay, that reason is as good as any for a name. But a spider attacked you?" Baugulf grinned, resting his cheek on the back of his hand. "Most spiders I know would run away from such a scary young lady."

"It jumped right at me, doesn't that count as an attack?"

"Did it bite you?"

"Of course not. I smacked it off and crushed its puny body before it had the chance to." Mel accentuated her point by chopping at the air, fighting imaginary creepy crawlies with her bare hands. "It didn't stand a chance."

Baugulf's mirthful laugh rang in the tavern, a hand hiding his mouth.

"What a fierce warrior you are."

"Don't patronize me," Melusine protested with a scowl pulling down the corners of her lips. A slice of rutabaga was speared through with Mel's fork, her elbow resting on the table.

"I'm not, I'm not," Baugulf denied with a dismissive wave of his hand, still chuckling. "I saw how you fought. You might not have technique or training, but you're vicious. Not to mention that you have marvelous brute strength. You'll make a fine warrior."

Melusine grumbled, feeling a fiery blush spread in her cheeks from the compliments.

"If you say so... but my brute strength is because of the dragon, not through my own efforts."

"You could always work to hone that strength. Imagine what you could do with some actual muscle on your bones."

Melusine glanced down at her arms, scrawny as chicken legs and her wrist with the circumference of an egg. Food was available in the village, but pickings were sparse and priority for her family had been low for most of Mel's life.

"It might be a good idea to look the part... but aren't girls supposed to be frail and beautiful?"

Baugulf hummed as he dabbed at some broth on his face with a cloth napkin.

"Typically, if you want to get married, it's easier to follow the norms—both for behavior and appearance. But you're the Dragon's Proxy. Expectations for you will be different than a court lady's. I can think of several noblewomen who will probably be raging with jealousy—my fiancé included."

"You have a fiancé?" Melusine squeaked, her fork clattering onto her plate.

"I do. Lady Octavia Lemaire, daughter of Baron Lemaire. An arranged marriage, but one I'm happy with. We've been close ever since we were children." A fond glint was in his eyes, and in how Baugulf rubbed the ring on his pointer finger.

"Oh," Mel stuttered, pushing her bangs back from her forehead. She picked up her fork and slouched over. "What's she like?"

"A will of fire, a sharp mind, and a protective streak a mile long. I think you'd like her, and she you."

"The way you talk about her definitely makes it sound like she's someone to look up to," Mel half-heartedly admitted.

"I admire her a great deal. She's hardly what I'd call a steady, down to earth person, but her passion is unparalleled." Rather than being like a clear summer sky, Baugulf's smile was like a rock warmed by the sun. It made Melusine's face feel stiflingly hot.

"I can't wait to meet her." Mel's facial muscles were stiff and creaking under her skin. Her vocal cords were tight and crackling. A buzzing ring started to invade her ears, and her heart quickened. She wondered what was wrong with her. "Sorry, I think the noise is getting to me."

"What noise? There's hardly anyone in the tavern right now."

Baugulf, who had been focused on eating during the conversation returned his attention to Melusine. Horror bloomed and corrupted his previously easy-going mood. He suddenly jumped to his feet, hands on the table. His voice was cautious, as if he wasn't entirely sure that he'd be speaking to Mel alone. "Miss Melusine? Whatever's wrong, you should calm down first."

"Huh? Nothing's wrong." Melusine tried to laugh, but she choked on her breath. She glanced down at her scrawny arms, malachite green scales popping out of her skin like diamond shaped cysts. Mel went to scratch at the scutes, but her clawed nails dug into the crisscrossing of her skin. A hiss of pain and green flames sputtered out from her throat and onto the wooden table in front of her.

The fire spread along the surface, crisping her garden salad and boiling Baugulf's stew. All around her, patrons screamed in terror. Melusine bolted up out of her chair.

"Shit!" Baugulf snatched off his traveling cloak, wadded it up, and attempted to pat the fire out. He failed to smother the flames, and only got a burn on his arm for his troubles.

"It's a monster!" A tavern patron shouted clear over the pandemonium, a finger pointed directly at Mel. Glowing red eyes, the pupils thin slits, turned on the middle-aged man.

"What...? You must be joking..." Mel took a step towards the frightened stranger, who retreated against the wall, but she stumbled. A familiar but distant agony came back to the forefront of her memory, forcing Melusine down onto the floor. Her bones snapped and splintered, then healed in the wrong places. Looking down, she discovered that her knees were being bent backwards like a dog's hind legs. Her vision coated in crimson, she fell forward onto her hands. Her ears were still ringing, and she was vaguely aware of her own screaming—less so of Baugulf rushing to her side.

Are you having fun, little hatchling? The dragon—Ekaitz's hissing voice echoed in her head, blaring over the buzzing ring in her ears. Baugulf grabbed onto both of her wrists and pulled on them, but was unable to make Mel release her grip on her face. Don't forget, you swore an oath. You are a mere extension of me, of my will. Do not let the foolish king and his cohorts lead you to believe otherwise. If I have to remind you like this every once in a while... I will.

Everything outside of her body faded to the vermillion and the anguish once again.

Finally, blessedly, the pain coursing through her veins waned, and Melusine was able to gasp in air. Panting heavily, she examined her surroundings. She was crouched in a ball, sitting on the cobbled ground of a narrow alleyway. Baugulf's burned up travel cloak was pulled tightly around her, the hood hiding her head.

Taking stock of the state her body itself was in, Mel noticed that the bones in her fingers had elongated, her knuckles knobby and covered in coarse scaled skin. Her nails were no different, black talons protruding from her flesh and curling inward. Melusine's knees were still bending the wrong way, and her toes felt tight in her boots, sharp pincers digging into her flesh. Almost the entirety of her skin was covered in green scales, and she didn't need a mirror to know that her eyes were glowing in the shade.

"Baugulf?" She called out in a pathetic whimper, fearful to raise her voice and draw attention to herself. Looking around and finding herself alone, Melusine hugged her legs tight. "Whew... okay... okay," she attempted to soothe herself by combing her fingers through her bangs, but bumped into a crown of stubby horns protruding from her temples.

Mel groaned, then pushed herself up to her crooked feet, using the wall for balance. Whatever had happened, she couldn't stay here. It would only be a matter of time before she was spotted.

Mel peeked out from around the corner of the alley, immediately spotted Petri's storefront, and behind it a thick plume of dark smoke rising into the air. Everything came into focus with painful clarity, the cacophony in her ears muffling to almost nothing. The shouts and barking of orders, the fire that she'd started, and sounds of a whole city working to put it out.

Her cautious step out of the alleyway was rescinded when she was pulled backwards. A hand with a silver band on the pointer finger covered her mouth, and Baugulf shushed her.

"Sorry, I went to try to help put the flames out, and pick up Spider." Baugulf wrapped the strap for the unofficially christened longsword around Melusine, and secured the buckle at her chest. Melusine stared up at him, frustrated by the tears that stung her eyes. She turned around and hugged him, barely stopping herself from squeezing him as tightly as she could. The knight grunted quietly, then let out a soft-hearted chuckle.

Her hug was returned in kind, and the back of her head was stroked. "It's alright," he soothed. "I'd never abandon my duties and leave you alone in a strange place. That I promise you. But we've got to leave quickly, alright? You wouldn't happen to be able to reverse... all of this, would you?" Baugulf leaned back and gestured to Melusine's whole person.

"I don't even know how this happened in the first place," was Melusine's bone dry and slightly panicked reply.

"Fair enough," Baugulf nodded, checked to see if the coast was clear, and confirmed that no one had discovered them. "Hopefully we can figure it out on the road. My plan was to have you pick out your own horse, but you'll have to make due with the one I've arranged at the central stables."

"That's fine, I don't know anything about buying horses anyway." Mel tilted her head back, greeted by the evening sky. "I must've been out of it for a few hours at least..."

"Six or five, yes. Come on, I'll carry you. Make sure to keep the hood up and around your face."

"Carry me? No." Melusine took a step away and shook her head with a scrunched up nose, but Baugulf gripped onto her shoulders.

"Melusine. You can't walk, not like that. You'll be spotted within the first five minutes. At least if I carry you, your legs won't be noticed so quickly. Your skirt and the cloak can hide most of the deformities. Now hold still." With that order, he scooped Mel onto his back, and secured his arms under her legs. He hurried out of the alley and slowed once they entered the crowded main street.

Mel tugged her skirt down over her ankles, and then wrapped both arms over Baugulf's shoulders.

"This is embarrassing," Mel muttered.

"Then you get bashful too easily, Miss Melusine. I once carried an injured comrade like a sack of potatoes to get him to a medic. Treat this situation like that—you've been mortally wounded and you need your brave knight friend to help you home."

"Don't compliment yourself... this is why I call you gross."

Baugulf laughed and patted her shinbone.

"Somebody has to compliment me, so it might as well be myself."

"Whatever floats your boat, I suppose..."

The heart-racing trip down the main road went almost suspiciously smooth. Only a few people took a second look at Melusine. They complained of disease and cripples as they turned their backs. Amidst all the excitement of her new experiences, Melusine had almost forgotten about what it felt like to be reviled.

The central stables were larger than the ones at the Eastern entrance point, made to fit in with the posh atmosphere of the main road into Belozer proper. There was a little station west of the gate where horses were checked in and out, and a whole block full of small grass paddocks separating the station from the huge brick stable. Baugulf had set Melusine down on a bench and quickly returned with his chestnut steed and a gray horse in tow.

"What will you name him?" Baugulf asked as he tied the horse he'd picked to a post.

"What do you call yours, if you like naming things so much?" Melusine heaved a sigh as she studied the horse in front of her. "Because I don't know where to even start thinking for this animal. I've never been good at names..."

The horse was stocky, with a round and short build. Its fur coat was dark in the face, and turned to a lighter gray as it went along the body. There was a spotted patch covering its hindquarters, and its otherwise dark tail had stripes of light gray.

"Oh, this faithful companion of mine?" Baugulf patted his horse's neck as he approached Melusine. "Her name is Marie. If it helps, yours is a boy."

"It helps a little." By the time Baugulf hoisted her onto the equine, Mel had made her decision. "Wolf. I might as well make a pair of them, the horse and the sword."

"As you say, Miss Melusine. I wonder if it'll bring you good or bad luck to name things after your conquests." Baugulf slung his leg up and over his own horse, and led the slow charge to the exit.

Melusine glanced back over her shoulder at the large pillar of smoke still rising into the air.

"Did they manage to get the fire out?" Mel asked, her voice cracking.

"Barely... Petri and the other adjourning shops were lucky that the fire didn't spread too far." Melusine tried to push down the guilt, and let out a breath to relieve the pressure building up in her heart.

There would be plenty of time for remorse on the road.