“Juniper?”

  Juniper awoke with her eyes glazed over and a groggy expression. “Ugh, Lucian, stop waking me up!” She complained. Then she rubbed a hand against her leg and started scratching herself, her skin turning red in the affected areas. “And why are the cave bugs eating me?! I don’t taste good!”

  Lucian shrugged. “Well, I was trying to swat the mosquitoes away from you while you were asleep, but then you complained I was waking you up, so I stopped,” he explained, inspecting his arm. It appeared to be completely unbitten compared to Juniper’s, but in spite of the contrast between their conditions, it wasn’t like the mosquitos all avoided Lucian and chose to attack Juniper instead— he could feel them biting into him the entire night— but due to his instant self-healing, none of their bites left a mark on him.

  “Lucian, I’m hungry! What’s for breakfast?” Juniper asked.

  “Stay here. I’m gonna find something for you to eat,” the dragon-spirit ordered before running out of the cave. Outside, the ground squished from the leftover rain, each step leaving a muddied footprint and a wet noise behind as he passed. Clumps of dew-dropped grass sprouted out of the soil, gathering around trees, rocks, moss and shrubbery.

  With the cloud-broken, treetop-filtered light of the early morning sun leaving bright patches on the forest floor, Lucian jogged to a nearby tributary of Silver Run, the river that the Misty Glen River Valley and Silver Run district in Avriya was named for. After maneuvering around a fair number of boulders and tree-roots, as well as the occasional fallen tree or tree-limb left behind by the storm, he stopped at a marsh at the bottom of a slope, taking in the view of the wide, clear stream rushing ahead of him through some cattails. It tumbled down at a slight angle, coming in from the right and flowing leftwards, crashing against its bank and bubbling up into white foam before jumping out of the riverbed and transforming into mist. Around three or so boulders poked through the water, threatening a painful experience for anybody unlucky enough to get swept up by the current, somebody who may or may not happen to be Lucian.

  For five or so minutes, Lucian kept his eyes on the surface of the water, skipping smooth, round, pebbles whenever he got bored of waiting. One, two. One, two, three. One, two, three, four, five, six. One, two, three, four. One, he counted, each rock-skip forming rings in the river’s surface. Then he remembered he probably shouldn’t be skipping rocks if he didn’t want to scare away the fish, so he stopped, and that was when he caught sight of some mud on the opposite bank and recalled his outrageous debt to Raiden:

  “Ten bars of gold. Two large buckets, one full of river plants and mud of the highest quality and the other full of fish, shrimp, crabs, and other crustaceans. And finally, your three most valuable weapons from your Sword Hoard.”

  Lucian shook his head. He really didn’t want to repay that debt, but unfortunately, he had no other choice. Even if he wanted to, it wasn’t like he had two large buckets with him right now to collect river plants, mud, and seafood with, so he figured he could always come back for that later.

  Some time after Lucian quit his rock-skipping, a silver glint appeared on the river’s surface, flickering by. Holding his breath, he jumped in, the cold water slapping him forcefully upon impact. He swam towards the fish in a frenzied rush, barely grabbing it by the base of its tail before it slipped by and left him empty-handed. Then, after struggling to find his footing for a while, he somehow managed to wade out of the water despite the strength of the current and the slippery fish flip-flopping back and forth in his hands.

  Once he finally set foot on land, Lucian collapsed on his knees and gasped for air, dropping the fish beside him. The fish also gasped for air, desperately thrashing about until the dragon-spirit slammed its head with a heavy rock, knocking it out for good. Seeing that the fish still needed its blood drained, Lucian picked it up and dug his fingers underneath its gill plates, tearing its gills out and tossing them to the side. Then he stuck the fish headfirst into the river and shook it, stroking its spine to assist with the blood flow as the surrounding water got dyed a crimson hue.

  When Lucian finally finished bleeding out the fish and washing it off in the river, he located a nearby boulder on the shore with a relatively flat top and placed his catch on it. Holding the fish with his left hand and awkwardly bending his right wing, he made an incision along the length of its belly with his wing’s claw, making a painstaking effort to not to cut too deep so as to avoid messing up its internal organs. Once the cut was made, he took two fingers and scooped out the fish’s innards with them, tossing them aside. Most people might’ve been at least somewhat squeamish in this situation, but Lucian didn’t even flinch— he was used to catching and preparing his own food by now, both in the spirit realm and after the… Inferno incident. Another item on the list of things he’d rather not think about.

  Not that he was all that great at cooking, as Noi has pointed out while Skye visited them. Lucian may have had enough experience with it to not be bothered by fish guts, but he didn’t have the skill to actually make something good. Of course there were those rare, once-in-a-blue-moon moments where he somehow managed to prepare a meal without screwing it up, but those only happened, like, 5% of the time. Most of the time it was all too common for Lucian to accidentally undercook something, or overcook something, or straight-up set his meal on fire and be left with nothing but charred remains. Hell, he was lucky if he only set his meal on fire instead of his entire surroundings! But it was fine because Lucian could get away with eating low-quality food; it wasn’t like it would kill him.

  But Juniper was different. She wasn’t a spirit; she was mortal, and therefore, a lot more vulnerable. One mistake could make her very sick or even kill her.

  After Lucian washed off the fish once again, he began his trek back up the slope and to the cave, looking out for a long stick he could potentially use to roast his catch over the fire while shivering as his wet clothing clung onto him, dripping water into the soil. Upon returning to the cave, he let out a relieved exhale after seeing that Juniper was still there, even if her face was now painted with mud. Seizing the opportunity for a jumpscare, she rushed out at him while making claw-shapes with her hands and an attempt at a scary face.

  “Boo!” Juniper shouted.

  Lucian laughed. “Wow, Juniper, very scary,” he said in a tone of voice that was more amused than scared. Then he held up his catch, showing it to Juniper. “Look, I have your breakfast!”

  Juniper eyed the fish suspiciously. “That is a dead fish.”

  Lucian sighed. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but all of the fish you eat are dead,” he told her. “Now, would you mind waiting a bit? I have to cook the fish first before you can eat it.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Juniper frowned. “But I don’t like waiting!”

  Lucian grabbed a rock off the cave floor and handed it to her. “You’re gonna have to wait if you want to eat your breakfast. Now, if you find yourself really bored, draw on the cave walls like your human ancestors did,” he instructed her. “Or do something else. It’s up to you.”

  Juniper walked to the nearest wall and scratched a line on it with her rock. Then she scratched another line. Lucian, meanwhile, started the campfire, took the stick he was planning on using as a skewer, stuck it through the fish’s mouth, and began turning his catch over the fire. While waiting for it to cook, he watched Juniper’s cave art progress. A stick figure. A stick figure with its arms out. A horizontal squiggly line. Another stick figure diving headfirst into the squiggly line— wait. Was the first figure throwing the other stick figure into the squiggly line?

  “Whatcha drawing?” Lucian asked.

  Juniper didn’t even turn to face him. “Nothing.”

  Lucian turned his attention back to the fish.

  The next few minutes passed with not much progress, and Lucian was getting impatient. At this point, he was already sick of waiting for his catch to roast through as he slowly turned it over the fire, and decided to go for the more efficient over-the-coals method. He placed the stick down on the coals, hoping it would speed up the process at least somewhat.

  Huge mistake.

  Perhaps Lucian’s cooking abilities really were cursed, because the stick had now caught fire, and its flames were creeping up towards his hands. With a start, he yanked the stick out of the fire, hoping he could save Juniper’s breakfast just in time, but as his nonexistent luck had it, the fish slid off the skewer and flopped onto the coals. So much for that.

  Or maybe that was what Lucian should’ve thought, but no, he was not one to cut his losses. In a foolish act of desperation, he tossed the now-empty stick into the pool of rainwater below the opening in the cave’s ceiling, reached into the fire pit bare-handed, and grabbed the fish off the coals, wincing at the second-degree burns that formed momentarily on his hands and arms before fading into nothingness, the pain subsiding along with them. Even if he hated her, he had to thank Blanche for his increased fire resistance and instant regeneration, or else the pain would’ve been unbearable!

  “Breakfast is ready,” Lucian announced, holding out the half-cooked fish. “Sorry I don’t have utensils. Or napkins. Or plates. Or anything for that matter, so you’re gonna have to eat this caveman-style.”

  Juniper reached a hand forward, but Lucian stopped her before she could touch his miserable attempt at preparing food. “Actually, on second thought, your hands are dirty. We’re gonna have to wash them.”

  Juniper looked at Lucian curiously. “How?”

  Lucian sighed. “Follow me. We’re going to the river.”

  After putting out the fire by redirecting it to the cave’s rain pool, Lucian grabbed Juniper’s hand with one of his own and held the fish in the other, leading her out of the cave as the pool sizzled behind them. He walked her to the river, guiding her over the various obstacles that littered their path. Together they walked down the slope and reached the marsh, and when Lucian knelt down to rinse his hands off in the river, Juniper did the same. Then Lucian pointed to his face.

  “Hey,” he told Juniper. “Your face is still muddy. Can you wash it?”

  Juniper crossed her arms in defiance. “No!”

  Lucian sighed once again. “But the muds gonna get on your breakfast once you start eating it,” he explained. “You don’t want to eat mud, do you?”

  Fortunately for both of them, that did the trick, and Juniper began washing the mud off her face. Lucian didn’t even bother trying to get her to wash every spot of mud off, let alone make her look presentable— as long as her face was not completely muddy to the point where it would make eating difficult, that was good enough for him.

  Once both were done washing off, Lucian dug inside the fish’s outer layer of skin and tore off a chunk of meat for Juniper. He picked through it and discarded every bone and piece of fat he could find, and once he was done, gave it to the girl. Much to his disappointment, as soon as the fish meat entered Juniper’s mouth, her face contorted into an expression of disgust, and the result of his labor got spat out into the river:

  “I hate this!” Juniper complained, and Lucian’s heart sank. “It tastes horrible!”

  “Sorry,” the dragon-spirit mumbled. “You know, if you really don’t like how I prepare food, I can always return you home. Options are limited when you’re out in the wilderness with no tools.”

  “Yes, yes!” Juniper exclaimed. “My daddy cooks a lot better than this! I WANT TO GO HOME!”

  A heavy feeling in Lucian’s gut formed upon hearing those words, but he knew he had no choice. How cruel would it be to keep this child away from civilization, away from the life she has always known, just to keep him company and validate his ego? And just as he was starting to like her, too! In spite of her often-frustrating behavior, Lucian had found himself growing attached to the girl, but even he knew he had to let go at some point.

  Lucian picked Juniper up by the hand, who stood on her feet after him. “Where do you live?” He asked her. “I’m asking so I can bring you home—”

  Snap.

  Lucian felt something cold and heavy pulling on his wrist, and brought his arm up to inspect it. A shackle and chain?

  Oh hell no, whoever did this is gonna pay…

  Snap.

  Another shackle, this time on his ankle. Lucian took the biggest inhale he could to prepare himself for fire-breathing, and as soon as he thought he had enough ammunition, he twisted his body to see who the attacker was:

  Or attackers, as it was in this case. Four people has ambushed Lucian, the first one a man with wavy brown hair and a windbreaker, the second another man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, and the third a petite, magenta-eyed woman wearing a tight black shirt. She had olive skin and long silvery-white hair that faded to shades of pink, blue, and lavender. But it was the fourth person, the one throwing the shackles and holding on to the chains while looking absolutely pissed, which stirred up the most dread in Lucian:

  Kai Dalton?

  Oh hell no, he was not getting away with this! In a fit of blind rage, Lucian charged towards the metal mage, saving up the literal fire that was burning in his belly for the other half of his face. But as soon as he tried to breathe it out, he could feel all of the oxygen getting knocked out of him at once, leaving him dizzy and desperately gasping for air. With the remaining drop of energy that he still had, Lucian looked up to see where the attack was coming from, and that was when he realized resistance was futile:

  The windbreaker man was focusing intently on the dragon-spirit and motioning with his hands, as if he was drawing an invisible force towards himself. But that invisible “force” was actually wind— moving air. Lucian’s attacker was a wind mage, using his abilities to draw the oxygen out of his target before the latter could even make his first move, extinguishing any fire-based counterattacks and asphyxiating him at all once. It was a highly advanced wind aura technique, and a deadly one, too.

  Well played, wind mage. Well played, Lucian thought as his head hit the ground and his vision blurred. After he collapsed, he could see people crowding around him and hear them talking over each other, but with each passing second, their voices grew more and more inaudible. A man barking orders, a woman speaking in a hushed voice, a child crying— could it be? Was he hallucinating, or did Juniper actually cry for him?

  That was the last thought Lucian had before his consciousness faded away and his vision turned black.