With a second to look back as he exited the mansion, Victor looked down at his clothing. The new clothes he had been "gifted" from Bern for his loyal services, the metal plates over his chest, legs, and shoulders, and the shield strapped to his back. Strapped to his back was a semi-large heater shield. It was for him, mostly. They would have to buy Eleonor her armour to fit and a new weapon. So, for now, he relished the free stuff he'd gotten. And then he turned to his side. Looking towards the gate's pillars, he watched in silence the warmth radiate off the armour. Where he'd carried the remains of a dragon and its children, they remained in the form of armour and blade, and he had to wonder what they were thinking at the moment.

He tossed off the armour he'd worn that belonged to a currently indisposed guardsman and donned the armour of his fallen brethren. A sense of warmth permeated through his body as if it was telling him that it was alright for him to wear it. And as for the sword, there were no coherent thoughts, simply a collection of emotions and images of joy. Now, in the middle of the street in front of Bern's manor, Victor stood. With armour that fit him tightly, made of the kind that clung to him as if he was a rope in a stream and a sword of the same material.

He didn't waste any time. He turned and went to the stables, walking along the wall of the fence until he found them.

Riding through the streets on a black-and-white mottled steed, Victor looked like a true knight from fairy tales, and many people said as much. In his hand were the reins to another horse. It looked just as large and intimidating but was instead a brown-furred mare. He returned to the inn he had been sleeping in for the past months and found Eleonor outside. Dismounting, Eleonor looked up upon hearing the clatter of metal and looked up to see Victor looking as knightly as he'd ever looked - besides when he wore his spirit-armour. Or, so she had begun to call it.

"Are your things packed?" He asked.

"Yesss? Victor, where'd you get th-"

"Your father gave them to me."

"And the... armour?"

"A gift."

"And the sword as well?"

"Yes."

"..."

Eleonor remained quiet and stared at him in disbelief, looked back to the giant pouch of what she had assumed to be coins and gawked even more. He turned to go and mount the horse he rode before he grabbed the reins and looked back.

"Do you k-"

"Yes I know how to ride a horse."

"Good. We'll buy you a weapon and armour when we reach," Victor paused, "what's the closest city?" Eleonor sighed in response.

The closest city was [NAME] to the south-west, roughly a three, maybe four days ride from Knaw Salong if they just kept going. Victor nodded, finally mounting up and waiting for Eleonor to do the same.

"Mister Victor!" Came a voice from behind him. He turned his steed as well as his head to look to it, seeing the young man from the place he ate running to him. A heady collection of scents forced itself into his nose.

Despair. Anger. Fear. Worry. Anxiety. And... Victor took another sniff. It was a scent he hadn't smelt before. It was pleasant and smelt of orchids and roses, with lavender in the mix. What is that scent?

Without giving Victor a chance to react, the boy hugged his leg. Which was strange considering everything he was, had done and had learnt. He stared down at him, and Eleonor looked confused.

"You're not leaving forever, right?" He asked. "You'll be back, right?" It was a pleading question, dripping with anxiety. Tears began to form, and Victor looked to Eleonor before turning to the boy. Putting his palm on their head, the boy flinched. He didn't respond. Victor, instead, sent the horse forward, letting it canter away as the boy weakly released his leg. Eleonor leaned down and whispered to the boy.

"He'll be back, I'm sure." The words didn't comfort him, though, but he did nod as she and the horse moved to get to Victor.

There were too many people. All of it was attention garnered due to the armour Victor had on him. He was ready to leave Knaw Salong behind. It would be the last place they would burn to the ground. There were good memories, yes, but there was always the bad as well, which he remembered far clearer. If the people of Knaw Salong knew his purpose, what he was, it was highly likely they would attack him with all they had.

-------

Ten minutes after they left the city walls, Eleonor spoke up.

"So, an ascetic, a knight, and a princess, all walk into a bar,"

"Quite an odd trio."

"Indeed! They all sit down, and the bartender asks what they'll be having. The ascetic asks for water, the princess asks for water, and the knight asks for The Princess. 'Pardon?' The princess asked, turning to the knight. 'I am not something to be traded and requested!' But the knight turns to her and asks who she is. She gawked at him, and the bartender places a drink down. 'One Princess, just for you!'" And Eleonor began chuckling.

Victor, on the other hand, turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. Then he looked forward again. The quiet silence permeated between the two to the point that even the horses got awkward. They huffed and puffed now and again, trying to make some noise, and finally, Victor spoke.

"Once we rest, I will teach you the beginnings of fighting. I've studied under your people for a bit, and I've fought your people as well. I have learnt many weapons simply by observing, and you will bear the full brunt of my knowledge and will learn what I deem fit to teach. One such thing will not be patience. Unlike many failures say, a fight should end quickly. And as such, you should act quickly, not take several years on how to take your first move." He nodded along to his own words, replaying them in his head as he thought of what to teach next. Such a good teacher he was. Imagine a dragon, an immortal creature by nature, teaching a mortal how to fight. Generous as he was, he believed he had plenty of time to teach her further.

She quirked an eyebrow at him but shrugged. She would learn later, as he said.

"Understood? I suppose you do live by that, huh. Jurrian sure did irritate you at the river, huh." She asked. Thinking back on it, it has been two days since she met Victor, and she was already leaving home with him. Eleonor would have to send a letter to father -- lord Bern -- when she had the chance.

An extremely long, detailed letter.

Through several long hours of riding through the countryside, with vast plains of nothing but wide open space, they were quiet.

There was a silence.

A long...

Long...

Silence.

Finally, Eleonor broke it, as she had done again and again.

"When will we rest? The horses are tired too, I think." Eleonor pats the horse gently, and it neighed in affirmation. The other one nodded heavily during its canter. "Not only that, the sun is just over the horizon."

"Fine." Victor relented, dismounting and walking the horse to the nearest tree roughly ten metres away.

As the sun crested over the horizon, and the last dimming rays began to disappear, the campsite was finished. The horses were tied up, the campfire was lit, and Victor sitting beside it. Eleonor looked at him from beside the horses.

"So, why did you decide all of a sudden take me as a pupil? It's not like I can fight. We met each other basically yesterday, and, well, it's not like I've used a sword." She asked. They'd been meaning to, and now was as good a time as any. Or, so Eleonor's rationale went.

"I smelt talent on you. Untapped and ripe for picking." Eleonor squirmed in place. That sounded... a bit off to her.

"Well..." She cleared her throat. "I guess that's a compliment?" Victor nodded.

"It is a compliment, yes." Scratching the back of her head, Eleonor sat across from Victor at the fire.

"That boy, from the tavern. He was really sad to see you go, y'know?" She told him. Victor nodded. "He didn't want you to go. He wanted you to stay there." He nodded again. "What's that like? Having people miss you?"

He lifted his head from staring into the fire, to look at Eleonor. Her face was red, her hair draped over the side of her face, and her tunic loose around the shoulders and chest. Oversized, maybe. Victor, in the time he had been lost in thought, realized he'd forgotten to pack books about dragons.

"Think about other things, Eleonor. I suppose you are tired from the riding. I will debate on where to start teaching you when you wake up."

Eleonor sighed and looked up at him.

"That was all over the place, Victor. But, fine. I'll go and rest. But when you're tired, come lie down too. I'd rather not be awoken in the middle of the night due to being eaten alive by wolves." She mumbled under her breath, "I'd rather be eaten by a dragon."

"I heard you, Eleonor. If that will help you sleep, and make it easier to teach you, then I will do what I must."

Her face flushed. She really wished she had kept her thoughts to herself. Because, all of a sudden, Victor stood up.

"You can back out now, or you can choose to follow through."

He walked around the fire, the crinkling of grass beneath his boots practically reverberating in Eleonor's ears and down into the middle of her cleavage.

"I... I uh..."

Well shit... She thought. Tonight was going all sorts of wonky, probably.

"I don't... know what you mean?" She said, holding a hand over her heart, trying to feign exasperation. "I am a woman who is chaste, prim, and proper!" She exclaimed, her blush that covered almost her entire face betrayed her words, though.

"Chaste, prim, proper. Words that mean nothing to a dragon. Now. Do you want to be devoured, or do you want to be taken in a different manner?" Tonight was gonna be strange.