Elora was standing in the middle of the busy ballroom, looking around like she was in a foreign land, which Nyal assumed she was. It didn't seem like a situation that she would usually get herself into. She had found the perfect dress to allow freedom for her inky wings. It was black and royal blue, filling out at the hips to cover her feet. The top was made of a tight corset with thick straps over her shoulders and an intricate pattern of black lace over royal blue on the front. The bottom of the dress was much the same, black on the sides and back, and blue on the front, this time there were no lacy patterns.

Her wings sat to her side, the tips of them dragging on the polished floor while the feathers near the base mingled with her naturally wavy hair. It fell down her shoulders, freer than he had ever seen it. It framed her pale face, making her already prominent eyes stick out even more. She had no makeup on, not a drop, and yet, she looked as beautiful as any of the makeup caked women dancing around her, maybe more so.

Nyal had ended up borrowing clothing from Queen Astor's servants, a dress shirt and a grey waistcoat that made him feel uncomfortable. He had his coat on over the top, but knew he would have to take it off at some point, it was just too warm in the ballroom.

Dancing couples surrounded the Gate Keeper, making her spin around as if she were looking for an exit. Nyal took that chance to walk over to her, giving her a little wave when she spotted him.

"I was wondering where you were," she said, looking irritated.

"I was exploring," Nyal defended. "I've always wanted to come here. I also found the library." He not only found the library, but he also spent most of his afternoon in there, reading about his gods and religion and the war with the Ancient Ones all those years ago. They didn't tell him anything he didn't already know, but still, they were useful to refresh his memory.

Elora chuckled under her breath, "Of course you did," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "I don't like this."

"I know," Nyal replied, trying to give her a reassuring grin. "Have you seen the Queen?"

"Not yet, I don't know if she has even arrived," Elora told him. He could hear the anger in her voice as clear as day. Looking around, he tried to spot the Queen, but try as he might, he could not find her. Instead, he found dark purple and blue banners and curtains made out of expensive fabrics adorned with threaded patterns, tall windows opening out onto balconies, gold painted chandeliers all over the ceiling throwing bright candlelight onto the dancers below. In the middle of the room, people danced and cheered and laughed, while on the outskirts others sat at round tables eating, drinking, and watching their friends. Musicians stood in the corner playing violins, cellos and flutes, there was even a lute.

At the end of the long r,oom there was a rise, a small set of steps leading up to it, where a large table sat, spanning the width of the room. No one sat there yet, but Nyal assumed that it was where the Queen and her cohort would be.

"She's not here," he told Elora. "We'll have to wait."

Elora growled low in her throat, a sharp contrast to her look. "She knows it's important," she huffed.

"I know, Elora, and so does she," Nyal replied, starting to get sick of defending the Queen. He too was beginning to get impatient. "We'll just have to wait."

"And do what, Nyal?" Elora snarled, growing angry again.

"We're at a ball, aren't we? Let's dance."

Elora's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

Nyal grabbed her by the hand, dragging her further into the crowd of dancing couples. Ignoring her protesting noises, he turned her to face him. Keeping his hand in hers, he guided her other to his shoulder before placing his on her hip.

"Nyal," the Gate Keeper protested. "We don't have time for this."

Nyal looked over his shoulder at the long table, where no one was sitting. "She still isn't there, we have plenty of time." As the musicians began a new, slower song, Nyal guided Elora along the dance floor in time with the lilting beat. "It's better than sitting around, waiting."

She stumbled after him, looking at him with an expression that said she was angry, but also confused. He was sure there was embarrassment hidden in the lines of her face. She didn't look at his face, instead she looked at their feet as they moved, like she was completely new at dancing.

"Have you done this before?" Nyal questioned, confused. Perhaps it was a bad idea to dance with her without saying anything. He shouldn't be too surprised about he not knowing how to dance, she couldn't even talk to people properly.

"A very long time ago," she replied, giving Nyal a bit of relief. "I need to remember how to do it." It was another song's worth of stumbling and fumbled dancing before Elora got her rhythm back. The music was still slow, perfect for the pair to dance to without messing up.

Nyal spun his partner around, watching as her dressed flared out with her wings. Her hair whipped around her head as she came to a stop, before flying backwards when Nyal drew her in again. They moved around the dance floor gracefully for the most part (Nyal might have tripped on Elora's dress more than once, it was just too big).

As the music changed, so did the dancing couples. Elora let out a laugh as a faster song came on, Nyal attempting to match the beat. He looked at her with a curious smile, he'd never heard her laugh that loudly before. He had to admit, it was a beautiful sound. It was good to see her relaxed, despite everything.

Vowing to hear that laugh again, Nyal spun them around with as much grace and speed as he could, until there was a sheen on sweat on their skin. Sometime during their dance, Elora's wings had begun to curl in towards them, almost as if they were trying to shield the pair from the world. Elora's whooping laugh echoed in his ears and soon enough he joined in, chuckling lightly as they weaved through the many couples.

As he spun Elora and himself around once more, he caught a glimpse of the long table at the end of the room, now filled with people, including Queen Astor. He stopped their dance, earning a strange look from Elora, who was most likely still in the rhythm.

"Queen Astor is here," he explained. Elora turned around, huffing out a sigh when she saw them.

"Come, we need to get this sorted," she said, pulling him down the room. Nyal didn't recognise many of the people seated at the table watching the ball with little amusement. He saw Albert, the rude advisor from earlier in the day. And of course, he saw the queen, sitting regally in the middle of the table. Her hair was curled and done up in what Nyal could only call a ponytail, there was probably some name for the style, but he didn't know it. Her fringe was still out, framing her small face and bright eyes. She wore a pale pink and white dress with much the same design as Elora's.

"Ah! Keeper!" the Queen said when she saw them coming. "So good of you to come!"

"Wouldn't miss it, your majesty," Elora replied. Nyal knew she was lying, but it was pointless to call her out on it.

"Of course," the young woman said, before gesturing towards the food and drink set out on the table. "Please, have something."

"No, thank you," Elora replied as Nyal reached for a drink of clear liquid. He recognised it as a form of alcohol that what usually made in Riba and Voda, and was most likely imported from there. He sipped it slowly as the two women talked.

"Why don't you introduce me to your friend?" Queen Astor suggested, bringing Nyal back into the conversation. "I don't normally see you with other people."

"This is Nyal Belthorne," Elora said, gesturing towards him. "He used to work for the Guild, but I persuaded him to help me."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Nyal," the Queen said.

"The same to you, your Majesty," Nyal replied, sipping his drink. It was a strong liquor, burning his throat as it went down.

"But, Keeper, what could you possibly need help with?" Queen Astor asked like it was a foreign concept to her.

"That's what I'm here to tell you about," Elora replied, glancing over at the other occupants of the table. There were quite a lot of them, besides one empty seat, and they were all staring at the strange pair. "Hopefully in as much privacy as you would allow."

Astor frowned, glancing down both lengths of the table, before gesturing to everyone with a flick of her wrist. "All of you except Albert and Xavier, go and mingle with the guests," she ordered. Everyone except two men sitting on either side of the Queen stood and walked into the crowd, easily mingling with the couples and groups.

"This is my current partner, Xavier," Astor explained, gesturing towards an auburn haired man who looked to be roughly the same age as the Queen. "Anything you can say to me, you can say to him."

"As you wish, Majesty," Elora said with a nod, taking a breath before recalling their tale. "It seems you haven't been told of Veridun's latest-"

"By the gods!" someone exclaimed behind them, interrupting the story. A familiar voice. Nyal flinched and groaned. How could he have forgotten?

He turned, facing a surprised Azel. Next to him, Elora growled, glaring at the warlock who had interrupted her.

"Ah, Azel, apologies," the Queen started, oblivious to her company's annoyance. "I need to talk to these two in private. Please, join the festivities," she glanced over at Nyal and Elora. "The Guild sent him here to help with negotiations." To Nyal's ears, she didn't sound too happy about that.

"What the hell are you doing here, Belthorne?" the other warlock snapped, looking him up and down distastefully.

"He's really not the nicest person," Nyal heard Astor whisper, most likely to Elora. He smirked, holding in a laugh. Azel appeared not to hear the Queen's words, instead he was too busy concentrating on Nyal.

"Work," was all he said, not really wanting to talk to Azel. He had completely forgotten that the other warlock was even going to Fiume, and look where that had gotten him. Facing the bastard in front of a queen while trying to save the realm from the Ancient Ones. What had his life come to?

"You-" Azel started, taking a step towards Nyal, his face red from anger.

"Azel," Queen Astor scolded, reminding Nyal a lot of one of the woman he and Azel used to live with, who used to scold the man every chance she got. "Please, this is very important. If you have business with Nyal, take it elsewhere."

"Apologies, your majesty," Nyal said, looking at Azel tiredly. He did not want to deal with the irritating man, this conversation with Queen Astor was too important.

"Come with me, you bastard," Azel snarled, grabbing Nyal by the wrist and dragging him away. Nyal looked over his shoulder at Elora, who was giving him a very confused look. He just shrugged, not really knowing what to tell her. He hadn't even expected Azel to be here, let alone dragging him away from an important conversation. He hoped she would be able to deal with it on her own.

He was a bit wary of the other warlock, but it wasn't like he would do anything. For one thing, they were in a crowded public place. Second, Azel was in Fiume for an important role, anything he did would reflect badly on the Guild and Queen Astor. And finally, even if Azel did try anything, Nyal could beat him easily, he had done it before and he would do it again.

They stopped next to one of the tall windows and near an archway that lead out onto a balcony. Nyal rested against a purple curtain, watching the people outside. Azel stood before him, a glare on his face.

"What in Veridun are you doing here, Belthorne? This was my mission," he snarled.

Nyal scoffed, as if he would actually go after Azel. "Work, I told you that," he replied, already turning to go. "I need to get back, this is important."

"Sure it is," Azel laughed, pulling him back, a sneer on his face. "What? Did you quit just so that you could come here? Were you that upset that Silas chose me to go instead? Poor little Nyal, couldn't do what he wanted, so he threw a fit and left. Always knew you were a wuss of a warlock."

"That is not why I'm here," Nyal sighed, "This is much more important than anything the Guild has given me or you."

"Sure, Belthorne, whatever you say," the other warlock said, making Nyal question why he had been dragged over there in the first place.

"Azel-"

"Who's the winged girl? Some broad you took along with you?" Azel interrupted, looking over to where Elora and Astor were talking. "How did you get her to sleep with you? I mean, she's easy on the eyes, that's for sure, and you're, well, need I say more?"

"Shut your mouth," Nyal snarled, fists clenching tightly, wanting nothing more than to punch Azel right in his sorry stupid face.

"Oh? Don't like it when I talk about her? Honestly, I don't see why she's with you, when she could have so much better." While the words weren't so bad, it was the look on his face that really rubbed Nyal the wrong way. He wasn't even looking at Nyal anymore, his gaze was fixed on Elora, leering at her, like a predator after prey.

Nyal clenched his fists even tighter, his face screwing up in anger. He wanted to punch him so badly, but knew it was a terrible idea, mostly because of where he was. No one said anything against Elora in front of him, especially not someone like Azel. "Azel," he growled, shocking the man. "You stay away from her. You hear me? I don't want you anywhere near her or me. You lay one finger on her and I'll make sure you never walk again."

"What? With your useless water powers?"

"Don't test me," Nyal snarled. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again." He stood up straight, making himself seem bigger and taller than he was.

"What did I tell you last time we met?" Azel huffed, "If you don't shut your mouth, I'll break your face, and maybe even take that pretty girl of yours, I swear it to the Gods." He turned away with a glare, muttering something under his breath that Nyal couldn't hear. The warlock stalked away, probably knowing that it was pointless to continue to row.

His eyes followed Azel as he was absorbed into the growing crowd. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, already exhausted. He needed to get back to Elora and the Queen. He turned to go, eyes locking on something in the crowd of dancing people that made him stop dead. Red eyes peeked out at him from between two dancers, staring, waiting, watching.

The dragon.