1057 A.N.E.
154 years before the birth of Geralt of Rivia.
Kaer Morhen.
The Fortress of the Old Sea.
Years later.
Merinelteratsin, also known as — Merlin.
Since then, our meetings with the young elf girl became more frequent, winter changed to summer time and again.
The curious little thing wanted to look at the huge beautiful shiny in my person, beautifully shimmering in the sun’s rays, and I wanted to hear about how elves live.
About which my mother-dragoness knew regrettably little, generally not interested in the details of the lives of small creatures.
In short, a mutually beneficial symbiosis.
Nevertheless, there was no forbidden love between the two races, as in that same story of Lara Dorren, Ciri’s ancestor.
Firstly, we were not in a romance novel, but in Slavic fantasy; secondly, the elven little thing was still too young for that, and I didn’t yet know how to turn into a human; and thirdly…
Our parents got acquainted fairly quickly — I didn’t hide our meetings from my mother, and Francesca was too young to hide from her king-father, who was also a bit of a prophet and a bearer of the Elder Blood gene.
And that meeting happened like this…
On one of hundreds of days, I was flying over the future witcher fortress, which they would surely restore and rebuild from the elven mountain palace, which in fact was one of the few fortified places of their folk.
My wings beat steadily, allowing magic to flow around my body with each new flap and keeping me airborne without plummeting down like an axe.
Periodically turning my head on its long neck, I had a large viewing radius, though at first I had to get used to the different eye placement.
I was, of course, looking for prey.
These places were inhabited by plenty of mountain goats, not the kind that are sometimes found among people, but quite animal ones, large enough to satiate my considerable stomach.
I had just outgrown the size of a large African elephant, but that’s fine, young dragons grow extremely fast, only slightly increasing in size over the years after youth.
Essentially, what you achieve in the first few decades, which for a dragon’s fast-growing brain are perceived as elusively faster than if I were human, is what you’ll possess until death.
So I continued to eat a lot and eat…
Oh!
And here’s the prey.
Anticipatingly jerking my entire long neck, I shifted the direction of flight as taught and dove down like a bird.
The goat noticed the predator flying at it and tried to bolt, however…
In its attempt to reach the local type of tasty grass, it had come out onto an almost sheer mountain slope.
That is, devoid of any trees that could hinder my wings’ movement and, together with the tail, coordinate the body’s movement.
So, darting ahead, I managed to catch the kid first with my two front paws and maw, and then transfer it to my hind ones, after which I sharply flapped my wings, lifting myself higher.
It turned out slightly harder due to the weighty prey, but a few minutes of problematic flight were worth it.
After which I was on the ground with the dead goat, bled out after my bite directly to the neck area, which instantly yielded to the sharpest teeth capable of tearing steel — I tested it on some ancient elven sword, which were abundant in the lair.
…Actually, that’s when our next meeting with the slightly grown-up elf girl happened, resembling more of a high schooler than a preschooler, which she looked like at the moment of our acquaintance.
Though, by elven standards, she was still considered a young girl, as far as I know.
“Enid.” Telepathy came to me as easily as ordinary speech.
And was very convenient, allowing me to calmly eat at the same time.
And I was eating, not dining, gradually decimating the population of local animals, like these goats.
“Master golden dragon.” The elf girl bowed to me with notes of irony, knowing I deeply didn’t care about such aristocratic things.
“You could have not bowed.
It clearly disgusts you to do so.” I snorted with understanding, tearing into the juicy goat meat with my maw and devouring its innards.
And yes, in telepathy you can convey snorts too.
A very versatile ability.
“Father says I need to practice more often.
And better on you than on those idiots from the palace.” The elf girl snorted contemptuously, wrinkling her nose and sitting down nearby.
“Interesting customs you have, however.” I said thoughtfully, simply to keep the conversation going.
Because I wasn’t going to voice my opinion about their family relations.
They’ll figure it out themselves, I’m not a family psychologist here, but a transmigrated golden dragon.
“Yours are no less interesting, Master Merlin.” The grown-up and more confident elf girl smiled slightly.
She wisely preferred to shorten my intricate draconic name.
“Everything is so free…
And simple.”
“Because there are too few of us to bother with such nonsense as your ceremonies.
We don’t need to stand out, because we already stand out against your background.
You won’t find a creature larger and more imposing than a dragon.” I said with notes of pride for my new race, snorting loudly and making the grass around bend slightly.
Powerful nostrils I have, oh yes.
“I can’t argue with that.
But elves are much more elegant and refined.” Perfectly aware that I don’t get angry at the purest truth and frankness in general, not suffering from arrogance, Francesca spoke quite openly.
“Isn’t that why golden dragons prefer elven forms?”
“Less smugness, Enid.
Or else I’ll take and transform into a dwarf.
Or even a human.” I bared my teeth, exposing rather large teeth and puffing flame that rose from my chest to the side.
However, the elf girl just rolled her eyes at this, perfectly aware of my harmlessness towards her long-eared person.
A person I had no plans for.
Do I need to get involved with elves and stand up for them against humans?
Nooo, knowing what idiots they can be in the Witcher world…
I don’t need that kind of happiness at all.
Better, following Geralt’s established custom, I’ll find myself an adult and accomplished sorceress…
Who won’t want to take me apart for potion ingredients, yes.
A stone in your garden, Yennefer!..
“Oh, I doubt that a beautiful golden dragon would turn into one of those disgusting creatures.” At the girl’s words, I involuntarily straightened up and slightly raised my tail like a cat, hearing praise.
After all, I loved my golden scales, and as I understood from my mother-dragoness, golden dragons especially loved praise about their beauty.
And I was no exception, despite my past life.
“I still won’t let you ride on me.” I came to my senses from the praise, remembering one of Francesca’s childhood dreams.
“Fine.
Just don’t turn into a human…
That would be…
Br-r-r…” The elf girl shuddered all over, so naturally, sincerely.
“You’re too categorical towards them, Enid.”
To the surprise of both of us, this voice did not belong to me, although, undoubtedly, I had a similar opinion on the matter.
Surprised, we turned our heads and quickly met the gaze of a white-haired elf riding in on a ghostly deer.
My first thought upon seeing this picture was something like…
Thranduil, what are you doing in The Witcher?!
And only then came the realization and understanding that this was, most likely, the father of this little elf girl.
“You are Enid’s father, I presume?” I calmly inquired using telepathy, feeling how the elder elf’s mind almost resisted the transmission of my words.
Strong.
“Exactly so, dragon Merinelteratsin.” The elven elder nodded slightly, looking at me with barely perceptible curiosity in his shining blue eyes.
Wow, he pronounced my name.
“To be honest, when I heard my daughter was communicating with a dragon, my first desire was to gather troops, but…
Enid did not look worried, sick, or moreover, wounded after her supposedly secret meetings…” At this moment, my acquaintance lowered her gaze to the ground, trying to see something in the grass.
“Besides, I, my spies reported that your scales give off gold, which inspired a certain optimism.
And as I see now, unlike your more aggressive relatives of other species, you…
Are amenable to negotiation.”
“I have nothing against elves.
Our species, unlike, say, gnomes, dwarves, or humans, have never been at war.” I calmly explained, sitting on the ground like a cat and looking down at the elder.
“That’s why I didn’t touch your spies.
Enid told me enough for me to understand the possibility of surveillance over a person of her origin.”
“If she were more obedient, perhaps surveillance wouldn’t be required.” The white-haired elf shifted his gaze to his daughter, trying to pretend to be a rag.
“But, nevertheless…
Thank you for not burning my assistants.
Finding replacements would have been difficult, the youth would rather side with my daughter and her energetic friend than with me.”
“Father…” Francesca tried to say something in her defense.
“Quiet.” Her father interrupted her with one word, not shouting or raising his voice even a little.
“We’ll talk with you later.
Don’t interfere in someone else’s conversation.”
Looking at this picture…
Straight up Legolas and Thranduil!
Too mischievous only child, and a wise elder elf with gorgeous white hair, caring for his people.
“I presume you’ve seen what you wanted.” I snorted imposingly, making the elves’ hair ripple slightly.
“Will you forbid our meetings?”
“No.” Simlas shook his head solemnly, spurring his ghostly deer.
“Perhaps communication with a representative of another race will make my daughter reconsider her attitude towards the Minor Races.
It’s too negative for the current times, equally bad for both elves and dragons.”
“Father, one thing is a noble golden dragon, and another is these, these!” Francesca finally decided to speak up, who was always categorical towards humans and their ilk.
And truth be told, some of her words are truthful in some respects regarding medieval people, who differ considerably in worldview from what I’m used to.
At that moment, a large shadow covered us, making us simultaneously raise our heads to the sky and see huge wings.
“I partially agree with you, girl.
But you’re not that different from them.” The golden dragoness telepathed to us all, landing next to us with a palpable thud and beginning to look down at us from the height of two and a half giraffes.
“And my son is too indulgent towards all of you, being still too young and not having seen your essence in full.”
“I greet you, Vivinissalenis.” The elf tensed slightly but showed no particular sign, solemnly bowing his head before the elder dragoness.
“You are bold, elf.
But at the same time respectful, which I like…” The dragoness telepathed without particular negativity.
“Did you blab my name to the elves?”
“You didn’t forbid it.” Understanding that the last words were addressed to me, I merely spread my front paws slightly.
“You should have.
Well, anyway…
What’s the point of getting angry now.
Too late.
In any case…
Better elves than those vile little humans.” Vivien growled with inner displeasure, who, it seems to me, harbored a bright dislike for my former kin.
At the same time, she managed to acknowledge both their strength and the fact that they exterminated a decent number of dragons…
Actually, that’s why her dislike is understandable and completely logical, because it wasn’t always the lizards who started first.
One cannot rule out simple greed — for sorceresses and mages, ingredients from dragons were very useful.
“Nevertheless, I haven’t heard a ban on communication with them from you and am unlikely to hear one.” I confidently snorted, tilting my head sideways like a bird.
“Because I’m not a fool to forbid something to a dragon.
That limits our freedom, which we value on par with treasures.” The dragoness smirked, shifting her gaze to the silent and non-interfering elven elder.
“I don’t mind our children communicating, elf.
But don’t you dare drag my son into your petty elven intrigues and plans.
Otherwise, your palace will burn to the ground.”
“I am not foolish enough to anger golden dragons.
Or dragons in general.
Or my other kin, I assure you.
Otherwise, our history would contain at least one mention of such conflicts.” Simlas answered diplomatically, but without humiliating his own dignity.
“And with you, young lady, we will deal later.
And be sure, this time you will be without your walks much longer.” He shifted his gaze to Francesca, making her thoroughly shiver.
“Amusing.
That’s why I said, better elves than other small creatures…” The dragoness slightly lowered her head, observing the relationship between father and daughter.
And a moment later, she was enveloped in a pale-golden radiance, instantly transforming…
…Into a devilishly beautiful golden-haired elf woman, at the sight of which even our Thranduil version Two Zero froze.
Froze so astonished that certain suspicions flared up in my head.
Francesca and I exchanged glances, smirked, but said nothing, allowing the single parents to gaze at each other.
After all, her mother died tragically in childbirth, and my draconic daddy, like all male dragons, took off right after my egg appeared, yes.
For bread.
Here…
Possibly…
Only possibly, their meeting might lead to something new.