Two dragons, one gold, one sky-blue, flew through the air, passing over some clouds. On the sky-blue dragon’s head, an elf was sitting with her legs and arms crossed, her hair remaining perfectly still even though nothing was shielding her from the wind. The sky was tinted with a pink hue, and as the dragons flew further north, the pink became darker, redder. The golden dragon wrinkled his snout. “I don’t like the smell of this, honey. How about we turn back and go home?”

“If you don’t like it, then that just shows how right Grimmy was,” Sera said. “And we can’t allow such dangerous things to encroach upon our nest.”

Vernon cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s your mother’s nest. Not ours. I’d just like to point that out. If anyone should be taking care of this, it’s her.”

“That’s right,” Lindyss said. “I don’t see any reason why I should be here at all.”

Sera rolled her eyes up and glared at the cursed elf. “Just the other day I was wondering who taught my son how to cast fire spells. If my memory isn’t failing me, then it was some woman who had taken him away from the elves when I sent him there….”

Lindyss swallowed. “Were you going to thank her for teaching him by any chance?”

Sera hummed. “That’s right,” she said, her voice more like a growl. “I was going to thank her for throwing fireballs at my son to help him learn. Sometimes, two-footed creatures can get very cold. I’m sure they’d be nice and warm inside my stomach.” Her eyes glinted, curving upwards as she smiled. “That’d be an appropriate way to thank her, don’t you think?”

Lindyss coughed, her face pale. “I think … she’d much rather you didn’t.”

“Oh?” Sera raised an eyebrow. “So, she’d much rather be outside, not complaining about a task she’s been assigned is what you’re saying?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Lindyss said, bobbing her head up and down. “You can put your aura away now. It might attract that thing’s attention, whatever it is.”

“And there’s supposed to be three of these things?” Vernon asked in a tired voice. “Why couldn’t there just be one? After this, I’m going to have to take a nap. I’ve already done way too much work this century with raising Vur and all.”

Lindyss turned her head towards Vernon. “Do you treat centuries like a normal person treats a week?”

Vernon exhaled flames out of his nostrils. “Are you saying I’m not normal? I treat centuries like how I treat centuries.”

A tiny voice whispered into Lindyss’ ear, “I think you should just keep your mouth shut.”

Lindyss shifted the tiny fairy up towards the center of her head. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

***

Vur, Tafel, Mary, Alice, and Mr. Skelly sat around a campfire. They were surrounded by woods, the only light coming from their fire. The moon and stars were covered by a thick layer of clouds. Smoke drifted into the air, carrying the aroma of a roast boar. Mary’s stomach growled, and she swallowed her saliva, her eyes locked onto the spit-roasted boar rotating over the fire. Her eyes flitted towards Tafel and Vur. “Is it ready?”

“I’m the cook!” Alice said. “It’s ready when I say it’s ready.”

Mary pouted and turned towards Tafel. She whispered in a voice that everybody could hear, “Why is she the cook? Her cooking is horrible.”

Tafel let out a small groan and turned her head away. The spit-roasting boar flew into the air, punted by Alice towards Mary. Vur stretched out an arm and grabbed it. Then he tore off a leg and bit into it. Reddish juices leaked out of the pink meat, and he nodded after swallowing. “It’s done,” he said, handing the boar to Tafel while giving a thumbs-up to Alice with an arm that sprouted out of his armpit. “Perfect.”

“It’s raw,” Mary muttered, staring at the boar in Tafel’s arms.

“It’s not raw,” Tafel said. “It’s seared. It’s supposed to be like that.”

Mary pursed her lips and met Tafel’s eyes. “I’m not dumb. That genie might’ve called me dumb, but I’m really not. I know what’s raw and what isn’t raw, and this is very much a raw piece of meat.” She turned towards Alice. “You don’t know how to cook.”

Alice narrowed her eyes at Mary. “Do you want to know what I think about your opinion?” She reached into her bag and pulled out the genie that was still covered in a layer of jam inside the jar. Then she shook the jar up and down. The genie hurled insults and let out a strong of curses while gesturing strongly with a certain digit on his hand. Alice nodded and put the jar away. “That’s what I think about your opinion.”

Mary bit her lower lip. “I’m going to find my own food to eat,” she said, climbing to her feet. “And I’m going to cook it by myself, and when you see how good it is, I’m not going to share. Hmph.”

“Bye,” Alice said.

Mr. Skelly nodded. “So long.”

Vur grunted and waved at Mary with a spare hand.

Mary tilted her chin up, her lips quivering. Then she sniffled and stomped away, disappearing in an instant before Tafel could stop her. Tafel lowered the hand that she had raised, sighing at the trail of broken trees Mary had left behind in her wake. “You guys…,” Tafel said, sweeping her gaze over the trio, who were busy eating. She threw a rock at Mr. Skelly. “Why are you eating my portion? You’re dead!” She paused. “Wait. No. Guys, that wasn’t very nice.”

“She was rude first,” Alice said. “After I worked so hard to prep and cook that boar too.”

“You didn’t even remove its guts,” Tafel said, rolling her eyes. “Your prepping consisted of sprinkling salt on it and stabbing a wooden stake through it to hoist it over the fire. And I was the one who made the fire.”

“Well, you’re the mage,” Alice said. “It’s your job to create the fire.” She stuck her tongue out and gagged. “Hmm. Tastes a bit raw. I think it needs some pepper.” She placed the piece of boar onto a wooden plate and reached into her bag to take out a satchel. A few sprinkles of pepper onto the boar later, Alice stored the satchel away and took another bite. “Much better.”

Tafel sighed. “I’m going to chase after Mary. I’ll leave a small portal behind, so if anything happens, just shout into it.”