I couldn't find a fitting song.

(But then again, have I ever found one?)

Cobs is ten votes from 1.6k! P.S.Y.C.H.E.D.

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          Káel couldn't believe his luck. A tense truce with Vera had willed her to play Truvius like a puppet and although he hadn't caught a syllable of what she'd told his roommate, Truvius had followed her to shop for clothing without a word of protest. This left him with a few timid glances and priceless window of privacy to remove the tattoo plaguing his palm. 

          He pinched at the tight knot Vera had made, cursing the rough fabric while he bit at the knot to loosen it. They were almost at the little shop, Káel's boots carelessly clapping against the stretch of stone, while the luring scent of fresh food faded to a dingy tang of stale puddles and waterlogged vines. He liked the solitary chill alleys had; it sure beat the crap out of thick crowds of chattering students.

          He finally loosed the bandage, working at unwinding it while he cooked up a plan to get Soren not to talk about the symbol to anyone. Hopefully his pockets were heavy enough to seal the information broker's lips to the head administrator, possibly leave change for a scoop or two on Ray. 

          "Oh look," Phantom said, pulling Káel's attention as the man motioned around a corner.

          Káel pulled back into the scape of his physical surroundings, casually tossing his gaze to the side and jumping at the black mass of waxy scales and spikes that was curled up at the foot of Soren's door. 

          He gave the creature a little more room, fixed with timid curiousity to the leathery black wings tucked back to blanket it as it watched him with half closed amber eyes.

          It was a picture perfect dragon.

          And it was also in his way.

          Puff let out a gasping warble at the dog sized kin, bounding past Káel to stop before the black drake's snout and roll onto his back with a snort. Despite the show of friendship, the dragon before them pressed the fluffy dragon down with disinterest, its gaze lifting up to Káel with a distinct stab of blame to its fiery eyes. 

          It didn't like Puff's approach one bit, and Káel had taken the liability in the dragon's eyes.

          He stiffened as the dragon let out a hissing grunt, its thin neck stretching away from Puff's playful bats until the door it guarded cracked open, showing off a taller guest who's mossy green eyes lingered on Káel with a soft glint of surprise.

          In the window of silence he acknowledged Káel's presence, dipping his gaze to the dragon at his feet. "Nel, are you a doormat?"

          Káel gave the sighing dragon another foot of space as it wiggled out of the way, curiousity pulling him to scan the stranger's leathery garb for clues that would bring him to Soren's small shop. But the black and weathered attire was as empty as his laxed face, starved of any clues, spare an equal serving of curiousity dished in his direction.

          He pulled off a nervous smile as the stranger stepped back into the small frame of wood to let him through, every fibre of his discomfort saturated by the unwelcoming atmosphere he'd fabricated in his mind. He'd certainly interrupted something, or at least popped in on the tail end of a private conversation. But the beaming smile Soren shot him quickly cut his discomfort down to size. 

          "What can I do for you today?" The shopkeeper called, his elbows resting on a bed of spread sheets that coated his counter with a fresh creamy white. His smile grew as Puff went straight for him, the dragon stopped at the massive wooden obstacle to warble excitedly. "Well good morning to you as well," Soren said, craning over the counter to smile down at Puff. "Did you friend get into more trouble?"

          Soren caught Káel's gaze, patiently waiting for an answer while the teen nervously eyed the man next to him. 

          He had turned to watching Puff, his cold frown unmoving as the dragon weaved in front of the counter, looking for a way up the polished trunk to his friend with dwindling options.

          The man finally finished scanning the dragon, his attention piercing Káel's comfort once more. "He can't fly?"

          Káel gulped, the stranger's accent somehow drawing more unease into the air. "He's... working on it." 

          Puff audibly snorted, one ear turned to catch the conversation Káel was having with the man.

          "Valerans," Soren said, giving the man a small nod as they exchanged their silent understandings at the word. "His name's Puff." Soren craned over the counter again, wiggling his fingers to taunt Puff up. "And you're very good at flying, aren't you?"

          Puff let out an indignant scoff, backing up his rear and making sure the stranger was watching. When he'd gained a meter on the counter he shot his little body into the air, flapping madly until he managed to hook his claws into the edge of Soren's counter, the chuckling locksmith dragging him up the rest of the way.

          "See?"

          A tiny smile flashed across the stranger's face as he watched the dragon assault Soren's face with licks, his lightened mood in no way lessening Káel's cringe when he turned to him. "And where are you from?"

          Káel slipped his other hand into his pocket, unable to hold the stranger's gaze as he muttered out a response. "The Mizer Islands sir." 

          "Tesirus have mercy on your lying skills," Phantom grunted.

          "Really?" the man replied, strangely shifting his gaze to Soren in expectation.

          The shopkeeper shrugged. "He hasn't told me otherwise. Bit pale, aren't you?"

          "I guess, yeah," Káel said, his form squeezing with caution as he stood completely exposed in the middle of the shop. 

          The stranger nodded, finally allowing the door to swing shut so he could draw closer to Káel and shatter the teen's efforts in casually tiptoeing away from him. without stopping he passed his side, taking a spot beside Soren's counter to size Káel up a couple times. "You must have had the luxury of shade. Pardon my intrusion, but are you the young boy that started that revolution?"

          "No... I don't think I am," Káel squeaked, stiffening as the two exchanged unconvinced glances. "I was just here to get some ink off me actually," he said, trying to veer the conversation as Soren paid him a confused look. "Do you know how to get rid of enchanted ink?"

          "Enchanted ink? I suppose, what kind of ink would it be?" Soren replied, a posh lift peppering his body as he and the stranger stared at Káel impassively.

          "It's some kind of black dye," Káel replied, not budging an inch from the center of the shop. "Hair dye..."

          Soren's eyes flicked to Káel's hair, and a look of concern crossed his face.

          "No it's not like that, I spilt it on my hand." Káel flashed the stranger another hesitant look as he stared indifferently at him.

          "Did you try water? Or did you just let it dry?" Soren replied, waving Káel to come over.

          Puff jumped out of Soren's lap as Káel approached the counter, hoping to continue his massage with the stranger instead. Without the burden of an option, the small dragon leapt into his arms, forcing the man to catch him in a cradle and deal with the purring drake. 

          Káel snagged the distraction with a boost of confidence, holding his closed fist out to Soren and barely flashing the lip of a gold coin nestled into his palm. "Can you keep this to yourself?" 

          The locksmith scrunched his brow, gently unfurling Káel's fingers to slip away the coin and scan the inked scrawls in pressed silence. After reading over the messy runes and giving his skin a soft poke he lifted a playful smile to the teen, eyebrows cocked to make a clear statement of his disbelief. "You spilt some, huh?"

          Káel timidly nodded, fighting Soren's grip as he tried to turn his palm in view of the stranger.

          With a careless hum he overpowered Káel's strength, twisting his wrist around to get a better light on the markings. With a nearly mocking grin he flashed it to the stranger, keeping Káel's hand still with surprising strength as he tried to tug it back. "Relax, he won't tell anyone."

          Káel frowned, searching the man's undisturbed frown. Not a flicker of surprise, nor confusion had risen from the sight of the marks, the man quickly going back to rubbing Puff's head as the dragon lazily stretched in his arms.  

          Soren turned Káel's palm back to face him, tracing his finger along the black circle with an appraising squint. "So... where'd you learn this kind of stuff?"

          Káel chuckled nervously, shooting Phantom a side glance he answered with a less than helpful shrug. "I saw it in a book... And thought it looked cool."

          "So you drew it on your hand?" Soren replied disbelievingly.

          Káel did a hesitant nod.

          "With... Hair dye..."

          "You came here from Cobalt, correct?" the man spoke.

          Káel slowly nodded, going a bit pale as the man's lip twitched at the lie.

          "Then where did you find such a book?"

          Káel shrugged, holding his breath to keep a neutral face as the stranger continued to stare. "The library is pretty big, it was a random book... Didn't catch the cover..."

          "On that note," Soren cut in, inspecting Káel's hand one last time. "Can't have your headmaster seeing this, might I suggest using paper next time for your little doodles?"

          "Noted," Káel replied, his voice drying at the mention of Samanthra's name. With a timid gulp his attention fell heavy on the gold coin, itching to clarify what he was paying for before Soren interrupted him with a nod.

          "You can call him Locke, he's a friend," Soren said, nudging his head to the silent guest. "My lips are sealed to anyone that cares to talk about this."

          Káel breathed a sigh of relief, taking back his hand as Soren rose from his counter to wander into the back of his shop, leaving him alone in the cold company of Locke while the locksmith looked for a solution to Káel's dilemma.

           Káel endured the awkward silence, wishing he could pull out his phone and pretend to busy himself. But even if it wasn't nearly dead, pulling out such an object would only dig his grave at least a foot deeper in the stranger's company.

          "Your name, what did you say it was?" Locke said, impassive to Káel's squint.

          "I didn't." Káel's steel tone melted as Locke's smile faltered, the man's presence somehow chilling the warmed room with a frown alone. 

          Something was nagging Káel that he'd have a knife in his back if he kept up his sass.

          "It's Káel..."

          "Káel?" Locke said, smiling to the mystery of his own thoughts. "I haven't heard that name in quite some time. It's not very common in this region."

          "Well I'm from the Mizer Islands sir," Káel retorted, the blood ebbing from his cheeks as his brain screamed at the second dose of sass he'd slipped. 

          "It's not common there either," Locke said, barely flicking his gaze from Káel as Soren rejoined them, keeping Káel's attention with an emptied smile as the locksmith worked at rubbing a clear liquid all over the teen's palm. "Drop this dragon from a younger tree if you wish to help him with flying. It's how many babies learn from their parents."

         "I like this guy, I could watch Mudbrain fall from trees all day long," Phantom whispered, chuckling as Puff obliviously snored in the man's arms.  

          Káel kept from acknowledging Phantom's comment, the nerves finally wracking his body with the ocean of disbelieving undertones Locke spoke with. What was a weak alibi to other students had no chance against a proclaimed friend of Soren's, and Káel was yet again regretting his negligence in practising the art of cooking up lies. 

          He had to veer from the topic altogether.

          "So... you seem to know a lot about dragons."

          Locke nodded. "Nel likes to visit the Garaean Empire, she feels the most at home in the cold." His face softened to a genuine smile as he placed Puff on the counter, slipping some gloves from his pockets and pulling the leather over his hands with a tight squeeze. "Have you been there?" 

          Káel shook his head, confusion clearly touching his company.

          "I would highly recommend a visit to Frigusilvrum in its warmer cycles then." Locke paid Soren another strange nod, working his hair into spiking ponytail before pulling his hood back up to cradle his features. 

          Káel cautiously watched the man sift through his pockets, feeling his inked hand gradually warming for some strange reason. In a casual motion to see what the locksmith was doing, Káel released a yelp of surprise, unable to pull his hand from Soren's grip as it sat awash with emerald green flames, spitting out a grey plume of sweet smelling smoke.

          His hand was on fire.

          The flames hadn't sunken into his skin yet, but the panic certainly had, his mind ripping in every direction to leave his body paralyzed in shock as the locksmith watched the licking flames with a less than appropriate smile. 

          Soren finally blew on the hissing flames, killing them with ease as he brushed a dusty silver layer off Káel's palm. "Good as new," he chimed, lifting Káel's hand that was now a shade brighter than his other one. He frowned at the speechless teen, his face so white the clouds outside had something to be jealous about. "Haven't seen a burn clean?"

          "Nope," Káel croaked, shakily retracting his hand to flex his dry skin. Not even the dirt hiding in his nails had a chance against whatever Soren had done.

          Soren slipped a laugh at the perplexed teen, his humour killed by confusion as Káel held out a fistful of coins to him.

          "How much do you want?"

          Soren blinked at the amount, enough to snag a house and live in careless simplicity for years, or get his hands one one meaty secret. "If I was to be honest i'd say all of it, but based on getting that 'ink' off your hand, you do realize you could have gone to almost any person with magical abilities to burn it off, right?"

          "You're the only magical person I know," Káel retorted, shoving his glittering palm closer. "So, how much?"

          Soren grabbed two copper coins from the mound, followed by an increasingly confused stare as he tried to understand him. "So let me get this straight. You're from the Mizer Islands, carrying around cash from the Alta Staar region, you know something about ancient rituals and despite being a Lumer from one of the most anti dragon areas in all of Lumi, you went out of your way to save a dragon being attacked by Unicorns, during class time?"

          Káel nodded with a neutral expression. "Yes sir."

          Soren continued to watch him speechlessly as he scanned him up and down a couple times. "You are the weirdest kid that has ever walked into this shop."

          "Probably," Káel replied with another nod.

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Quality Quip #21:

'Sometimes what you expect from a friend, you get from a stranger instead.'

~ Anon