The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons

Sera flew through the air, carrying a bundle of logs tied together by a rope. Behind her, Vernon was holding a mithril jar. The two dragons soared through some clouds, their vision obscured by white. When they broke through, a scaly, red face greeted them.

“Woah!” Prika shouted and swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision. “Watch where you’re going ars…, Sera? Vernon?”

“Prika?” Sera asked, spreading her wings wide and leaning back to halt in midair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m heading towards the eastern continent,” Prika said. “I heard I’ll find a mate there.”

“You know this is the western continent, right?” Vernon asked. “Instead of flying west all the way around the world, you could’ve just flown east, you know?”

“I know! I’m not dumb,” Prika said. “Okay, so I followed old man Nova to the western continent first because there was nothing to do at home, and now that I’m here, I’m flying east.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow. “But at this point, it’d be faster to fly west to get to the eastern continent. You could fly directly there instead of passing through the central continent again.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to fly through that backwater continent between the western and eastern continent, and there’s no way in heck I’m doing that,” Prika said. “It might take me a bit longer going this way, but it’s worth it.”

“Aren’t you from that so-called backwater continent?” Sera asked. “You don’t want to say hi to everyone?”

Prika rolled her eyes. “And embarrass myself? Hello, I left to find a mate a few centuries ago. If I turn up back home empty-handed, what are they going to think of me? I’d be a total loser in their happily mated, damn, cursed, stupid, bright, happy eyes.”

Vernon cleared his throat. “Your anger is showing.”

“It’s not anger,” Prika said, wrinkling her snout. “It’s centuries of bottled-up resentment. There’s a difference in degrees of magnitude.”

“Have a cookie,” Vernon said, holding the mithril jar in his paws towards Prika.

Prika blinked and reached forward, lifting the lid. Her claws clacked against the side of the jar a few times, but she managed to retrieve a cookie that was almost the size of her snout. She placed the lid back on and munched on the cookie, sprinkling crumbs down to the ground. Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, this is pretty good.” She popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth. “Are you bringing these to share with everyone down there?”

“The annoying trio asked me to bring the cookie jar,” Vernon said. “But I suppose everyone can have some as well? They’re not mine, so I don’t know.”

“You offered me a cookie that didn’t belong to you and you weren’t sure if you could share?” Prika asked, her eyes widening.

Vernon cleared his throat. “Well, it seemed like you needed it. If anyone asks, Alora took it earlier. They’ll all believe that even if she protests.”

“Thanks, Vernon,” Prika said. “You’re the best. Okay, I think I can”—her stomach rumbled like thunder—“continue to the eastern continent.” She wet her lips with her tongue, her eyes sneaking down towards the cookie jar. “Or … I can wait until after this gathering to go.”

The three dragons flew on, arriving at the makeshift roost as the sun was beginning to set. “We’re back,” Sera said, dropping the bundle of logs onto the ground beside her. Vernon squatted beside the bundle and placed the jar down, careful not to rattle its contents. Sera swept her gaze over the field. “Oh? What’s that staff of yours, Vur?”

Vur raised his staff which was actually a combination of five different staves. The holder that Mary had made managed to lock the four other staves into place with a few twists and turns, leaving no noticeable gaps. It had spirals and loops along with grooves that were filled in perfectly by the four other staves. The end product was as wide as Vur’s thigh, but there was a space carved out in the middle for him to comfortably hold it with one hand. “Mary, Eldest, Bonnie, and Youngest made it for me,” Vur said. “But mostly Mary. I don’t dislike her as much anymore.”

“Oh,” Sera said. “I see.” She glanced at the bundle of logs. “What am I supposed to do with this then?”

“Silly,” Sharda said. “That’s firewood. What else would you do with it? We can start a bonfire.”

“Do we have anything to cook?” Sera asked, moving the bundle to Sharda’s feet.

“You don’t need to cook anything to have a bonfire,” Sharda said. “We can have a bonfire for the sake of having a bonfire.”

“Wait!” Tafel shouted. “If that’s the case, let me provide the wood! You can’t burn thousand-year-old logs just for the sake of having a fire.” She ran over to the bundle and opened up a portal, swapping out the logs for her own firewood instead.

While Tafel busied herself with the fire, the annoying trio crowded around the cookie jar. There were two red dragons already there, Prika and Alora. The two glared at each other, their claws pressed against the lid, preventing the jar from being opened.

“Miss Prika?” Bonnie asked. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming back until you found a mate?”

Prika snorted, two jets of flames leaving her nostrils and dispersing before they made contact with Alora. “I did say that.”

Alora snorted back, sending her own flames Prika’s way. The flames licked the scales on Prika’s snout before disappearing. “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

“That’s not important,” Prika said. “What’s important are these cookies.”

“I think I figured out why you’re single,” Nova said, nudging his way next to the cookie jar. “You chose cookies over finding the love of your life. How often does that happen?”

“A girl’s gotta eat, okay!?” Prika snarled at Nova and tugged the jar towards herself. “How am I supposed to find love on an empty stomach?”

“With your wishy-washy attitude, I don’t think you can find love on a full stomach either,” Alora said. “I mean, if you haven’t found it by now….”

Prika reared her head. “Ooh? Is someone picking a fight with me, the mighty Prika?”

Nova reached over and pressed Prika’s head to the ground. She yelped and squirmed, but Nova didn’t let up. “You’re picking a fight with a child,” he said. “Stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Prika stopped wriggling and pouted. “She started it.”