E R I K

The senile villagers stood muttering amongst themselves while I spun around, showing off my glorious golden wings. Gold was the colour of royalty. Gold was the King's colour. There could be no doubt in their minds that the King had returned.

"What the hell are you doing?" Byron whispered behind me.

"I'm introducing myself to the villagers," I replied.

Both Byron and Ranni exchanged nervous glances. This wasn't the grand introduction they wanted. Without my wings, we would have difficulty convincing the villagers of my royal status.

I turned back to face the villagers and waited for them to drop to the floor, grovelling and apologising. However, to my surprise, only the Captain knelt in his flowing white robe on the ground. The other villagers remained standing.

"I thought the King had purple wings," one of the villagers muttered.

"I heard he had white wings and a long whispy beard," A second villager added.

The Captain angrily glanced at the other men and yelled, "Fools! Everyone knows that the King has golden wings,"

A third villager scratched his head and replied, "No offence, but I heard the King breathed a blue flame."

My wings drooped to the floor as arguing broke out among the elderly men. It seemed no one could agree on what the King was supposed to look like. Only the Captain, who was a few sandwiches short of a picnic, believed that the King had golden wings.

"Look at him, Captain! He's no King. He's covered in mud and stinking of smoke fire," One of the villagers explained.

"I think he's a devil worshipper. We should throw holy water on him and see if he flinches," A second villager suggests.

Suddenly, I'm assaulted by a shower of holy water. I wince when a drop of water lands in my eye. Several of the villagers wave their arms excitedly. "See how he cowers from the holy water!"

I rubbed my eye and sighed, "I'm not a devil worshipper. I'm the King. Your King."

Apart from the Captain, all the villagers gazed at me with eyes full of doubt. I turned back to Bryon and Ranni, hoping they would know the right words to convince the villagers of my royal status.

They stare back at me helplessly.

I silently pray for the forest floor to swallow me up.

"We can see that you are a dragon, but there is nothing to suggest you are a King," A villager says thoughtfully. "You have no crown or armour with the royal coat of arms."

"What about my wings," I protest, stretching them out again.

The villagers shrugged their shoulders, unimpressed by my glittering wings. Only the Captain spoke up. "I think you are the rightful King, Sir. My Grandmother used to tell me that the King would one day return to Thorsbury. She said the King would have golden scales and a sweet singing voice."

"A sweet singing voice," I echoed, suddenly feeling the colour drain from my face.

This had gone from bad to worse. Byron stepped in and said, "The old King had a wonderful singing voice. However, his son is better known for his prowess on the battlefield. The King has won many great victories over our enemy, the vampire."

"So what's he doing here?" asked one of the villagers. "If he's the King, why is he squatting in our wood instead of living the high life in his fancy palace?"

"Er," I replied.

I didn't know what to say. I could tell them the truth and admit the fox had tricked me, but that would make me appear a weak and useless King. When I failed to come up with a reasonable reply, the elderly villagers started to laugh at me.

"Stop that," I ordered, "I demand your respect!"

The old men responded by laughing even harder. Finally, Byron patted me on the shoulder and sighed, "We need to work on your public relations skills."

I took a deep breath. Oh, how I longed for my army. No one disagreed with me when I had my army with me. There was something about the cold metal glint of a blade that made everyone agree with you.

"Is there someone else we could speak to? A council, maybe? Or a group of elders?" I asked.

"The elders are not interested in speaking to devil worshippers," One of the villagers yelled.

The Captain lifted his head and countered, "They will want to speak to dragons they have never met before. This is the first time we have had visitors not born of this village in four hundred years."

"That's not true. What about Morgan?" A second villager exclaimed. "She came to the village four years ago."

Ranni raised an eyebrow. "Did you say she came to the village four years ago?"

My mind started to fill with terrible thoughts of what Ranni might do if she discovered Morgan's true identity. I had seen Ranni raze entire towns who dared to support the Mad Prince's army. I dreaded what she would do to Morgan.

"It sounds like another dragon was pulled into this world with us," I said.

"Perhaps," Ranni replied with a hint of uncertainty. Then, she turned to the villager and asked, "Could you tell me more about Morgan?"

"We're not telling outsiders anything!" The villager huffed.

Ranni's eyes darkened. She raised her hand and opened her palm, revealing a dark purple flame. The villagers took a nervous step back as she began to play with the flame in her hand.

"I've asked nicely once. Do not make me ask again," Ranni threatened.

To the credit of the villagers, they did not break their silence. Instead, it was the idiot Captain who opened his mouth and started flapping his gums.

"Morgan is a barmaid at the Fox & Dragon. The landlord found her in a field four years ago and adopted her. She's a nice girl," The Captain chirped.

Ranni's eyes twinkled with intelligence. "Really? Does this barmaid happen to have flaming red hair?"

The breath stilled in my lungs. Had Ranni remembered Morgan's red hair? Had she deduced that the fox had survived the fall? I silently prayed that the Captain would contradict her. I didn't want to be caught between my mate and my sister-in-war.

"Morgan has lovely red hair," The Captain replied.

Ranni rolled her eyes. "So it was the barmaid who kept you up all night." She nodded to a red strand of hair on my jacket.

"Yes, I met Morgan last night. She was remarkably unremarkable," I said lazily, trying to throw Ranni off Morgan's scent.

"She was so unremarkable that her hair ended up all over your jacket," Ranni scoffed as the purple flame extinguished in her hand. Ranni switched her attention back to the villagers. "We are going to need an introduction to the village elders. Captain, would you help facilitate a meeting between the King and the elders?"

The Captain nodded, "It would be my honour."

The other villagers grumbled in disapproval. "The Captain has gone mad. He cannot bring devil-worshippers to the village."

The Captain ignored the voices of dissent and said, "Your Majesty, it would be my great honour to invite you and your companions into my humble abode."

"Thank you, Captain. I humbly accept your invitation," I said, then glanced across to the villagers standing behind him and added. "It is my deepest wish to be reunited with my people and prove to each of you that I am your rightful King."

The villagers exchanged sceptical looks. I didn't blame them. For generations, they had existed without a King. Why should they accept one now? What could I offer them? I had no money, no army, and no protection to offer. So they had every right to tell me to get lost.

A day or so ago, I would have been happy to never see this village or their inhabitants again. But now they had something that I wanted. They had my little fox.

My mind twirled with half-baked ideas and thoughts. I needed to make myself useful to these people. I needed them to see me as one of them.

"Perhaps, I could offer my services to the village? It's only right that a King takes an interest in his people," I said thoughtfully. "Are there any neighbouring villages I could conquer or subdue for you?"

Nobody spoke. Not even the Captain.

"What about these devil-worshippers who are plaguing the woods? Maybe we could help you with that?" I offered.

The Captain suddenly stood to attention. "I would be honoured if His Majesty would fight alongside me to help keep these woods safe. For years our woods have been plagued with demon lovers."

"Well, I would be happy to offer my assistance. We will round up these demon worshippers and burn them on a stake for their transgressions," I clapped.

"Forgive me, your majesty. But, we don't burn the devil-worshippers. That's a tad cruel. Instead, we give them a good telling-off and sprinkle them with holy water," the Captain explained.

"I'm happy to follow your lead on this, Captain. I shall help you ride these woods of demon scum, and in return, I want you to tell me everything you know about my favourite barmaid," I smiled.