An ear-shattering sneeze ruptured the peaceful quiet, accompanied by two massive flames. They seared a few unfortunate pine cones before dissolving into white steam.

  “Bless you,” Flynn said in amusement.

  “I hate this,” the dragon growled, clumsily using a large cotton tissue to wipe his nostrils.

  The cloth was already covered in burn marks from when Oscar had tried to clear his nose like a normal person would.

  “That’s nature for you,” Flynn offered with a shrug, coming to a halt.

  The dragon shook his head, his puffy eyes darting through the undergrowth. His hayfever was at its peak right now, and moving to the countryside did not help in the slightest — nor did the fact that they were using their day without group sessions for a hike up the valley, along the sparkling creek, and through dense vegetation.

  “We could have stayed inside,” the dragon grumbled.

  “We already did that last week. Don’t you want to get to know the area?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I do.”

  The dragon muttered a not-so-quiet curse, and they started moving again, following a path barely wide enough for the large animal. Orange trees and crimson grass swayed gently in a sluggish breeze, and a flourish of scents filled the air — none of which the dragon was currently able to smell.

  When the stream got too steep to follow, they cut left and slowly made their way up the flank of a tall mountain. Flynn was setting the pace in the front, while Oscar kept complaining behind him. After the third rock slide the dragon had caused by accident, he stopped walking and let his rear end sink onto a smooth boulder.

  “I don’t want to anymore,” he declared, sniveling into his tissue.

  Flynn sighed and turned around.

  “It’s only been 30 minutes. Surely, you can handle a little more than that.”

  “Steep inclines don’t agree with my physique,” the dragon growled, crossing his wings. “Besides, I’m sure it’s been more than 30 minutes.”

  Flynn put a hand on his hips and studied the dragon.

  “Is this about heights again?”

  The dragon looked away — but not down the mountain.

  “Maybe.”

  “Just …” Flynn gestured with his hands, “focus on the path in front of you.”

  “I’d prefer it if that path led back the way we came.”

  “I’ve heard there is a great view just a bit further.”

  He realized that this wasn’t going to incentivize the dragon.

  “The view here is just fine. Also, my feet hurt, and the sun is rather harsh.”

  Flynn shook his head and unmounted his backpack, then opened it to pull out a round red object with green spikes.

  Oscar's amber eyes lit up.

  “You didn’t …” he murmured, gazing at the dragon fruit in Flynn’s hand.

  It was his secret weapon.

  “You bet I did,” he said victoriously. “But you only get to eat it once we reach our destination.

  The dragon expressed a lipless pout.

  “That’s not fair,” he protested.

  “We both know it is. Now get your lazy dragon bum off that boulder so we can get a move on.”

  The dragon squirmed theatrically, the pain of the world weighing on his wings.

  “Must you torment me like that?” he whined, but Flynn had already turned his back on him.

  After another hour or so, they reached a small landing that offered a commanding view over the Valley of Nessar, and the Mythical Ward at its center. The golden rooftops of the floating building shone bright in the warm sunlight, and the colorful forests covering the base of the mountain ranges to either side made for a picturesque frame. The sky was almost as blue as Oscar, dotted with a few lazy clouds that slowly made their way to the far horizon.

  “Now that’s a scene Rain should paint,” Flynn murmured in awe.

  “I’m not sure his particular style would do it justice,” Oscar commented in between bites.

  The large dragon was standing a few steps removed from the edge of the landing, but still seemed to enjoy the view.

  “See? I told you, you’d like it,” Flynn said cheerfully.

  The dragon swallowed the last of his dragon fruit and straightened his posture.

  “It’s decent, I suppose.”

  Flynn snorted. “Right.”

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  They stood in silence for a long time, letting the wind ruffle their hair and horns.

  “I’m glad we came here,” the dragon said after a while. “To the Mythical Ward, I mean.”

  Flynn let his gaze run over the magnificent structure. Its four-story-tall windows and market-square-sized balconies gave it a most impressive appearance.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Flynn said pensively. “It seems like you are starting to feel more comfortable during your group sessions.”

  “It’s still difficult to open up about certain things,” Oscar admitted. “But it is getting easier, yes.”

  They had only been to a handful of therapy sessions now, and the dragon had only spoken in two of them. But even that was quite the achievement in Flynn’s eyes. Both times, they’d been talking about rather mundane, everyday situations, so at least Oscar was spared from revealing more details about his troubled past. Eventually, though, his luck in that regard would run out.

  “It helps that the others are nice,” the dragon added after a moment.

  Flynn clicked his tongue. “For the most part.”

  The dragon turned his head to face him.

  “You don’t like them?”

  Flynn excusingly raised his hands.

  “What? No, of course I like them.”

  “You don’t,” the dragon said with a hint of disappointment.

  “They are great, okay?” Flynn assured him. “Except for the cat and the bird, maybe.”

  “What about them?”

  Flynn frowned. “What do you mean? The bird is obviously an alcoholic and the cat is as cranky as my great aunt.”

  “Your great aunt was always nice to me.”

  “That —” Flynn began and shook his head, “is completely beside the point.”

  “She always baked pie for me when I was visiting her.”

  “Maybe she was scared you’d burn the house down otherwise.”

  Oscar puffed and lowered his head.

  “That’s not what— Sorry! I— argh,” Flynn ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “Look, you are great, and if you insist, so is my great aunt.”

  “And Dora and Apollo?” the dragon asked, his amber eyes peeking out from behind his wings.

  “Sure, them too. Everyone is great.”

  And with that, the dragon seemed appeased.

  “When did you visit my great aunt anyway?”

  “She invited me a couple of times.”

  Flynn frowned. “She never invites me.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing personal,” the dragon placated.

  “Yeah, sure …”

  They let their thoughts and gazes wander aimlessly for a few minutes, watching over the valley like the snow-covered mountain peaks. The sun had long passed its apex and was slowly melting into a ball of orange, casting a warm light onto the open fields and lush forest.

  Not even Oscar’s occasional sniveling disturbed the serenity of the moment.

  “It’s so peaceful,” the dragon murmured.

  “It sure is.”

  Something changed in Oscar’s stance, and a sudden stiffness took hold of his wings and neck.

  “You know, the village my parents took me to isn’t even that far away. About a four-day hike, I reckon.”

  Flynn gently kicked a pebble with his boot.

  “I figured as much. How does that make you feel?”

  The dragon took a moment to respond.

  “Ashamed.”

  “Of what happened to the village and its people?”

  “That, too, but also ashamed of the dragon I was back then. And still am, for the most part.”

  Flynn could feel hot anger cloud his mind. Not at the dragon, but at all the misery Oscar had to go through.

  “They put you in an impossible situation,” he growled. “They were your parents, and they still did that to you. It wasn’t right.”

  “They did what they thought was right.”

  “Yeah? Well, they were wrong.”

  The wind howled quietly, and a bird chirped tactlessly. Flynn tried to calm himself by focusing on the beautiful view before his eyes.

  “Sometimes I wonder what kind of dragon I would have turned into had they not abandoned me,” Oscar rumbled quietly, his gravelly words carried away by a gentle breeze.

  Flynn raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to know?”

  The dragon shrugged. “I have been asking myself that same question over the years.”

  “I don’t think the current you would like that version of himself.”

  “Probably not, no,” the dragon agreed. “But that other version of me wouldn’t know any better.”

  “You’d probably be killing innocents by the dozen.”

  An awkward silence followed.

  “On purpose, I mean,” Flynn added, but that didn’t make it better.

  “I guess that would be the only difference,” the dragon muttered.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You have turned into a kind-hearted, empathetic dragon — if all of your species were like you, the world would have a lot less to worry about.”

  “If I ever went back to Althareon, they would probably declare me a traitor. If not because of my actions, then because of what I’ve become.”

  Flynn snorted. “They should have you give lectures on how to become a decent dragon.”

  The dragon gurgled, which passed for a chuckle.

  “I wish I had your lightheartedness,” Oscar said.

  Flynn felt a sudden weight drop on his soul, and the words of Director Nemus echoed in his head.

  Those hiding behind a mask of humor are the most fragile among us.

  The old tree wasn’t completely wrong, even if Flynn would never publicly admit that.

  “Don’t,” was all he said. “People would like you a lot less if you were more like me.”

  “I think you’re funny.”

  “That makes you one of very few people in this world.”

  The mating call of a wild animal echoed through the valley.

  “I guess we are both pretty unusual,” the dragon said after a moment.

  “Let’s call it unique.”

  The dragon puffed. “I like that better.”

  After a moment, he added, “I’m glad I met you, Flynn. You are the one good thing that came out of my otherwise grim childhood.”

  “Don’t go all sentimental on me now,” Flynn quipped while stealthily drying his eyes with his sleeve.

  “I mean it. After my first days in Verantis, I thought things would only get worse. But then I was sent to you, and life got better. A lot better.”

  Flynn felt a wild mix of emotions, and he tried to mask them with a casual smile.

  “I guess we got lucky.”

  The dragon nodded obliviously. “That we did.”

  They watched as the sun slowly dipped past the tallest peaks, casting purple shadows over fields and forests.

  “We should head back before it gets dark,” Flynn said after a while.

  The dragon seemed to remember all the steps they’d taken to get here.

  “It will take forever to hike back to the Mythical Ward,” he grumbled.

  “It’d be faster if we could just fly over there.”

  Flynn mimicked a bird with his hands, and Oscar wordlessly started dragging his tail down the rocky mountain trail.