Dawn broke with a light mist clinging to the rocks.
Kára closed the forge door for the last time. Her fingers brushed the aged wood. She said nothing. Everyone understood that place, the only home she had left, was now part of the past.
"Let's go," said Varkas. "The longer we stay, the easier we make it for those bastards."
The path descended between increasingly high rock walls. The air grew warmer, laden with the smell of minerals and distant smoke. In the distance, the first dwarven watchtowers cut against the sky: low, solid towers of dark stone.
The small dragon rode on Darian's shoulder. It was no longer the stumbling creature of a few days ago. Its blue scales glowed with greater intensity and its golden eyes observed everything. Occasionally it turned its head back and let out a deep grunt.
"It doesn't like something," said Darian.
Aria, who was a few steps ahead, stopped.
"Neither do I."
An arrow whistled through the air.
It embedded itself in Darian's pack, a hand's width from his shoulder. The dragon leaped to the ground and hid behind a rock.
"Above!" Varkas shouted.
On a high ledge, two slender figures cut against the gray sky. Curved bows in their hands. Dark cloaks.
The second arrow grazed Varkas's arm. He didn't flinch. Kára raised her hammer, but the elves were already gone.
"They're gone," said Aria, bow still drawn.
"They didn't want to fight," Varkas growled. "They just wanted us to know they can reach us whenever they want."
The dragon peeked its head out from behind the rock. Darian made a gesture and the creature jumped back to his shoulder.
"Let's keep moving," said Kára. "Khazad-Gor isn't far."
The gates of Khazad-Gor rose before them as evening fell.
They were two massive blocks of dark stone. Reliefs on the surface showed hammers, anvils, and gear wheels. Thick columns flanked the entrance. Guards in heavy armor with braided beards watched the passage.
Kára spoke with one of them and the guard nodded, letting them through.
Inside, the city was a stone anthill.
The streets were narrow but clean. Oil lanterns hung from iron chains, illuminating facades carved directly into the rock. The smell of charcoal, hot metal, and freshly baked bread mingled in the air.
There was everything. Dwarves in leather aprons carrying ingots. Humans with carts full of cloth and spices. Dark-furred beastmen haggling at a weapons stall. Half-elves in traveling clothes studying a jewelry display. Nobody paid too much attention to anyone else. Everyone went about their own business.
"Khazad-Gor," said Kára. "The most important trading pass between the Empire and the Confederation. Everything comes through here."
Aria observed everything carefully, but her hand never strayed far from her bow. Darian, with the dragon on his shoulder, looked at the stalls with curiosity. Varkas advanced without paying attention to anything that wasn't a threat.
Kára led them to an inn carved into the mountain wall. The wooden sign showed a hammer and a mug. Inside, the atmosphere was warm. Oil lamps hung from the beams. The tables were polished stone. The counter was a single piece of granite.
Behind it, an older dwarf cleaned a mug with a rag. He had a graying beard and a scar crossing his left eyebrow. He looked up and a smile split his face.
"Kára! Damn it, I thought you'd forgotten your old friends!"
"Borin." Kára smiled. "You're the one who's old."
The dwarf let out a laugh and came around the bar to give her a bone-crunching embrace.
"And this varied company?" he asked, looking at the group. "A beastman, a half-elf, and a human with a..." He stared at the dragon. "By the beards of my ancestors. Is that a dragon?"
"I'll tell you later," said Kára. "First, beer and food. We've had a long journey."
Borin settled them at a table by the fire. He served four mugs of thick beer and a meat and root vegetable stew that smelled incredible. For the dragon he brought a bowl of raw meat strips. The creature sniffed it and began to devour it.
Darian watched it.
"It doesn't have a name."
Everyone looked at him.
"True," said Varkas. "Between one fight and the next, it slipped our minds."
"Any ideas?" asked Kára.
Varkas scratched his chin.
"Something strong. Like Claw or Fang."
"It's a dragon, not a dog," said Kára. "Something more dignified. Fulgur, for the gleam of its scales."
Borin, serving another round, joined in.
"In the old dwarven songs, dragons had names of wind and stone. Kazak, the one that crosses the sky. Morak, the one that sleeps in the mountain."
Darian listened, but said nothing. The dragon finished its bowl and climbed back to his shoulder. It rubbed its head against his cheek and let out a soft sound.
Darian closed his eyes for a moment. He felt the creature's warmth, the beat of its small heart, the golden spark they had shared since it broke through the shell.
"Vael," he said quietly.
Everyone fell silent.
"Vael," Darian repeated, opening his eyes. "For Vaelor. But shorter. More its own."
The dragon looked at him with its golden eyes. It made a new sound, higher, almost joyful. Then it curled against his neck.
Kára smiled.
"Vael. I like it."
Varkas nodded.
"It's a good name."
Borin raised his mug.
"To Vael, the smallest dragon in Khazad-Gor!"
Everyone laughed and clinked their mugs.
While they ate, Borin sat with them.
"Tell me," he said to Kára. "What brings you here with such an escort?"
Kára summarized the essentials: the outsiders arrived fleeing, she helped them, now elves were pursuing them.
Borin listened in silence. Then he scratched his beard.
"Elves have been prowling the border for weeks. Asking about a half-elf. There's tension in the air."
Aria set down her spoon.
"They're looking for me."
Borin looked at her. He didn't ask more. Just nodded.
"There's a tunnel to the south. Old, predating the Confederation. It leads to the lowlands. If you want to shake them off, that's your best option."
"Tomorrow," said Varkas. "Today we rest."
Borin nodded and stood.
"Tonight you're safe here. Too many people. They won't find you."
That night, the inn fell silent.
Varkas snored in a corner. Kára slept with one hand on her hammer. Darian was leaning against the wall, with Vael curled on his chest.
Aria was awake.
She had a scrap of paper and a piece of charcoal in her hand. She wrote slowly, without making noise.
I don't know if you'll read this. Maybe you'll hate me for leaving like this. But I can't stay.
My mother died escaping from my grandfather. My father almost died protecting me when they tried to take me as a child. I'm not going to let the same thing happen to you. I couldn't bear it.
Varkas, thank you for keeping us together. Kára, thank you for your shelter and your trust.
Darian...
Darian, thank you for never giving up. For teaching me that it's worth looking for the truth even when it hurts. I hope you find it. I hope you find Sarion. I hope all of this makes sense someday.
The elves are looking for me. If I move away, they'll follow me and leave you in peace. It's the only way.
I don't know when we'll see each other again. But we will.
Trust me.
Aria
She left the note beside Vael. The dragon opened one golden eye. It looked at her.
Aria held the gaze. Then she stood up.
She picked up her bow, her wolf cloak, and her knife. She looked at the group one last time. Varkas, who had protected her without asking questions. Kára, who had given her shelter without owing her anything. Darian, who...
She closed her eyes.
"Forgive me," she whispered.
And she walked out.
The first ray of sunlight filtered through the window.
Darian opened his eyes. Vael wasn't on his chest. It was by the door, head low and whimpering softly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.
He saw the note.
He read it. He jumped to his feet.
"She's gone."
Varkas opened his eyes. Kára sat up instantly.
"What?" the giant asked.
"Aria. She's gone."
Vael let out a low roar, looking toward the door.
Varkas took his sword. Kára her hammer.
"Which way?" asked the dwarf.
"I don't know," said Darian, the note still in his hand. "But we're going to find her."