No more than a day later.
The flight to about the middle of the Blue Mountains, where there were several trails that even humans could use to cross them and reach the east of the Continent, was easier.
I was fresh and full of energy, because Vivien wasn’t in a particular hurry to wake me up.
In that regard, the slowness of long-lived dragons worked in my favor, and even if I’d slept for several days, no one would have scolded me.
Borch Three Jackdaws, who probably hadn’t created that form yet, met us before we even reached his lair, right in mid-flight.
“Villentretenmerth.” My mother growled briefly at the dragon, who was about my size.
But considering his age, he was…
Kind of small.
Must have spent too long in a two-legged form during his growth.
“Vivinissalenis.” He nodded slightly in return, turning very nimbly in the air and starting to fly alongside us.
“Long time no see.”
“Only a decade.” My mother snorted displeasedly.
“That’s nothing.
You’ve gotten too used to the lifespans of mortals, who don’t even live a tenth of our lives.”
“Why?
Elves live.” Borch objected, not at all embarrassed by the accusation.
“Then you should have chosen an elven form.
Like any normal dragon…
Not a human one…” Vivien closed her eyes in displeasure, taking advantage of the fact that we were flying high enough above the trees.
“Even your daughter uses a normal form.”
“That’s because you scared her too much with humans.
They’re not as terrible as our whole kind thinks…” Borch turned his head slightly toward me.
“Hello, Merinelteratsin.
I see you’ll make a good match for my daughter.”
“And what are such hasty conclusions based on?” I asked, taking advantage of Borch’s rather friendly tone.
“They’re not hasty.
They’re considered and completely correct.
After all, she also rarely transforms into anything other than a dragon.” The golden dragon blinked his large eye slowly.
“I suppose you’ve figured out how I knew.”
“By size.” I tilted my head slightly, making another wingbeat and not letting myself drop from our flight level.
“Exactly.
You’re similar in your long stays in your true form.
So you won’t have conflicts over that.” The golden eye narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“And since you won’t have a main reason to quarrel, everything else will smooth itself out, considering the fact that I know your guardian.” At that moment, Borch’s head turned toward my mother.
“Playing smart again?” She snorted displeasedly, her next wingbeat coming out painfully sharp.
“Have you forgotten that I grew up next to you and saw every single one of your adventures?..”
“They were all thought out…” Villentretenmerth began to argue.
And so our flight to the lair of my future…
Hell if I know what she’ll be to me.
Jokes aside, I’d have to figure something out about that.
Borch himself had settled in the most typical place for dragons — a huge cave that could fit even a dozen dragons.
And it even had special supports driven into the walls, clearly not made by him.
Had he roped in the local dwarves?..
“Father?
Who did you bring to us…” A dragoness sprawled on a pile of gold and silver coins lifted her head.
She was half my size.
So yeah, pureblood gold dragons aren’t particularly large.
A couple of African elephants, no more.
“Oh.
Revered Vivinissalenis.”
“Since you’re…
Ahem…
Acquainted with my old acquaintance.” Borch spoke up, awkwardly twitching his tail.
“Meet Merinelteratsin, her son.”
I met the gaze of the dragoness lying on the gold.
“Nice to meet you…
And all that.
What else do the two-legged like to say in moments like these?..” Sitting down like a cat, I raised my head as high as possible.
“And you too.” She twitched her right paw.
“Speaking of the two-legged…
Are you well acquainted with them?”
“No, no.
Just once, an elf woman came to our lair, wanting to admire the splendor of the golden dragons.” I started playing dragon diplomacy, without distorting the truth too much.
“And since my mother and I had settled in ancient elven ruins, I didn’t kill her.
Besides, her father is the most powerful mage among the long-eared two-legged, and it’s not worth picking a fight with someone like that even for us.
They’ll shit in front of the lair, and then try to find them…
You’d have to burn down all the forests around.”
“Too much trouble.” Nitaramulines agreed with me.
“But you made a good choice.
You chose an elven form, didn’t you?”
“Exactly.” Concentrating, I transformed into my elven form in a golden radiance.
“What’s your human form called?” She asked immediately, implying my shortened name.
“Merlin.” I replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
When you don’t even reach two meters tall, and next to you are several huge fire-breathing reptiles…
Well, now I understand how Francesca felt when we first met.
“Nimue.” She introduced her shortened name in turn, also transforming into an elf in a barely perceptible golden radiance.
And…
Oh-ho-ho.
A very, very good-looking one…
Though she clearly hadn’t bothered with clothes.
I pointed that out loud.
“Why would I? Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Unlike my father, I hardly ever interact with the two-legged.” These one and a half meters of pure dragon power in elven form shrugged, sprawled out on the gold just like in dragon form.
Blonde hair, yellow eyes — we didn’t differ by a single gram.
“Father gave it?” I asked about the only piece of clothing on the transformed dragoness.
“How did you know?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s a man’s shirt.
Clearly aristocratic-looking…” I shrugged, glancing at our parents, who had clearly switched to telepathy.
“Plus, you just confirmed it.”
“I see.” She drawled with a smirk, not at all embarrassed by the fact that the shirt was practically see-through.
“Got it.”
“I have a question too.” I switched to telepathy just in case.
“Why is your father raising you, and not your mother?” For a human, that would have been tactless, but dragons don’t even know that word.
At least, I’d never heard it from my mother.
“I don’t know.
Father never said, and I never really asked.
But I’ve never seen my mother at all.” The dragoness-girl telepathed back with complete indifference, the epitome of apathy toward the situation.
Still, she pulled the slipping shirt back up onto her shoulder.
Erotic, I won’t lie…
But it’s probably not intentional — she clearly doesn’t understand the attractiveness of two-legged bodies…
But my pants got a little tighter, though thankfully they were thick enough that nothing was too visible.
Plus, my long elven robes helped hide the natural reaction to such a sight.
Otherwise, it would have been embarrassing.
“Nitaramulines, Merinelteratsin.” Villente…
Ugh, Borch addressed us in the rumbling sounds of the dragon tongue.
“Please fly outside the lair for a while.
Your parents need to be alone and discuss something.”
I exchanged a bewildered look with Nimue, who also didn’t understand the reason for such a request when telepathy existed.
They weren’t going to mate, were they?
Nah…
I’d sooner believe my mother would drag that elf into her cave than get involved with this dragon.
Either way, we didn’t argue.
Transforming back into our true dragon forms, we flew out of the cave, heading…
Somewhere roughly west.
“…Look.” I said briefly, slowing down a bit and pointing with my right forepaw at a spot below us.
“What’s there?” Nimue fluttered with interest, glancing her eye at the indicated spot.
“Two-legged?”
“Yep…” I’d seen my former fellow humans before, but I usually ignored them.
Because I still had no idea what to talk about with medieval people.
But now I saw a rather interesting scene I hadn’t encountered before.
A large, long caravan was being attacked by a sizable band of robbers, who were already actively fighting with the wagon defenders.
The people were so engrossed in the fighting that they didn’t even notice the two large circles circling above them.
Or maybe they thought they were big carrion birds.
Or even the numerous flying monsters of the Continent…
Either way, they had no time for us.
And I saw that the defenders were clearly losing against the bandits’ onslaught.
An event probably mundane for the Middle Ages, but…
Merlin, congratulations, you’re an idiot.
These rescued people would probably send hunters or some witchers after you…
But first, I had to ask my companion’s opinion.
After all, I wasn’t stupid enough to drag her into it too.
“Should we intervene?” I asked, pointing a paw at the caravan.
“Why?” The dragoness asked logically.
“For fun.” I kept circling above the battle below.
“Otherwise it’s boring just flying around and doing nothing.”
“Father doesn’t like it when I kill too many two-legged.
He says it attracts too much attention…” Nimue replied with a mocking grin.
“But we won’t kill all of them.
Only half.” I immediately found a solution, pointing at the bandits attacking from both sides.
“Those ones on the flanks of the human wagons.”
“Half?” The dragoness was quite intrigued, even baring all her dragon teeth.
“Yeah…
Father did say something about human bandits he’d encountered and killed…
And that it was okay to do…
Alright, let’s try.”
“Great.” I bared my teeth too.
“My right, your left.”
The killing of sentient beings, humans…
Didn’t cause any aversion in me.
After all, they’d become bandits themselves, it was their own fault.
I had a pretty good idea of what medieval bandits were capable of, compared to whom even the thugs of the nineties seemed like decent guys, not particularly cruel or bloodthirsty.
So…
I didn’t give a damn about the deaths of these hundred-percent murderers of ordinary civilians, rapists, maniacs…
And so on.
In the end, I dove down, and soon I was within range of my fire.
Inhale…
Exhale!
Fsh-sh-sh-sh!
The flame that burst from my mouth swept in an even stream across the back rows of the bandits, who seemed to be some kind of strange bandit reserve…
Or something like it.
The fire swept over them like an inexorable swoop for their crimes, completely covering them from head to toe, making them shriek and scream in pain and horror.
Again, did I doubt myself, literally burning sentient, breathing people alive?
These ones — definitely not.
Or if I’d always been this cynical and, well, non-humanistic, inhumane person…
But…
I still saw no reason to spare these bandits in any way.
They calmly kill ordinary people, and I can’t calmly kill them?
Bullshit!
What nonsense is that?
Besides, they’d be hanged from a tree branch in this time anyway.
And rightly so.
If you send them to hard labor, there’ll be even more bandits — because the punishment wouldn’t seem severe enough.
This way, everyone will understand what end awaits a robber.
…An example like that, as they say, will hang before their eyes.
Heh-heh…
Mindful of a dragon’s vulnerability on the ground — and who wouldn’t be, since Geralt would remind them in the future — I didn’t rush to land.
Like Nimue, I remained the king of the air and methodically, unhurriedly, carefully mowed down the attackers, who were actively stopping their fights and trying to flee the road into the forest.
That was their main mistake, because the farther they got from the caravan, the more I could roast them.
Humans on the grill, basically.
Though they had no choice.
They were caught between a hammer and an anvil.
Between me and Nimue, and between the caravan defenders’ swords.
They didn’t try to shoot me either.
Because anyone with a bow — Nimue and I burned with our first volleys.
“Dra-a-agons!”
“Gold ones!”
“Huge!”
“A-a-a-ah!”
The last and loudest sounds came from the bandits who hadn’t yet died from burns covering their entire bodies.
“Is that an slyzard?” Some fat merchant in expensive clothes squeaked.
Oh no, I really didn’t like that comparison.
Those little creatures are tasty, like chickens…
But they look like it too — like ugly, plucked chickens!
And I, if you don’t mind, am a whole golden dragon!
I had to make that clear to them…
Feeling some kind of dragon excitement in my chest, I bared my not-so-small maw and filled my lungs with as much air as possible.
“Gro-o-o-o-a-a-a-a!” A loud roar wasn’t long in coming.
The people immediately covered their ears with their hands, trying to save their eardrums, while also dropping their weapons to the ground, depriving themselves of any chance to harm Nimue and me.
The remaining bandits, after the roar, immediately ran in all directions, not caring about the path…
But the caravan folks, to give them credit, turned out to be braver.
Especially since they had someone clever and observant enough to notice that Nimue and I hadn’t touched the caravan people.
Convinced that no one could pose a threat, the dragoness and I carefully landed next to the caravan.
Filigree, really — we didn’t even flap our wings too hard or hit the people with the wind.
So small and fragile compared to us.
Like, damn, looking at some meerkats.
So…
Insignificant.
They’d fit in a paw.
And before anyone could do anything stupid, I used my universal lifesaver — telepathy.
“We are not your enemies, people.
Right now you’re wondering whose voice is sounding in your head…
It’s me, the dragon Merlin.” I decided to use my shortened name, not screwing with my former fellow humans’ brains with my full one.
While I was speaking, they started looking around, clearly not quite believing that one of the two huge flying reptiles was talking.
However, after they finally realized the source of the rumbling sounds I was adding to the telepathy, the people from the caravan didn’t start bowing or throwing themselves at our paws, but showed commendable caution and reason…
Unlike another person.
One of the miraculously surviving bandits ran out of the thicket and, sword at the ready, rushed at Nimue.
“D-die, you monstrous crea-a-a-ture!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, apparently really intending to deafen my companion with his screams.
But Nimue lazily turned her flexible neck toward him…
And with a snake-like quick movement of her neck, literally bit off the upper half of the bandit’s body.
The lower half immediately fell to the ground, spilling the remains of his guts right toward the caravan people.
Glancing at the latter, I quickly noted how pale and green their faces had turned…
Well, watching half a person being devoured in one bite wasn’t the most pleasant sight.
I, at least, ate raw game and its innards in this life, but the people weren’t ready for the rich internal view of their fellow human.
Well.
I had to admit, I’d kind of…
How to put it more gently…
Screwed up.
There definitely wouldn’t be any dialogue after that crazy bandit’s stunt and Nimue’s actions.
Oh well…
No luck, no fortune.
It happens.
Nothing to get upset about…
I’ll chat with my former fellow humans next time.
Taking one last look at the people’s faces, trying to remember them at least a little, I telepathed to my companion my desire to leave this place:
“I think we can leave these ones alive.
That way your father won’t scold you.” I gave an ironclad argument for my more radical-in-regard-to-humans companion (I wouldn’t have dared to eat part of a person).
“If anything, we’ll say we saved some of the humans he likes.”
“You’re good at coming up with excuses.” Nimue telepathed back with satisfaction.
“It’ll be fun with you.”
Yeah…
It’ll definitely be fun.
We practically simultaneously launched ourselves into the air, ruffling the hair of the people who had been saved by a dragon miracle that day.
But what I didn’t know was that a witcher was among the caravan that day.
He didn’t have the famous white mane, but his cat-like eyes with elongated pupils glinted unkindly as he stared intently at the departing dragons.