Miranna slipped onto a roof along the west parapet just as the bells of Sunreach rang out. Some of the elves still wanted to call it Iriandalon, but the unity of a kingdom had made a choice. A single name was needed for a single body. It was the seventh hour according to the bells. The sun stretched along the streets below, casting streams of light that gave everything a warm glow. She leaned against the warm stone, letting the wind tug gold hair from its braid, her mind focused on other things. Thirty years and still barred from every dungeon in sight. Behind her, a large shadow thumped against the stone. Shale Spark folded her crimson wings, her sharp claws announcing her presence. “ We could just fly over the gate , ” the dragon offered. Miranna smiled. “If you think that Dad doesn’t have someone watching for just that, you’re as crazy as Uncle Sog. You’d get us both bread-baking duty for a month.” Shale Spark snorted twin puffs of smoke. “You’re such a temptress,” Miranna said, thumping the dragon’s shoulder. She made her way to the edge of the roof and dropped down. “Come on. The others are waiting.” They found the crowd at the south fountain. A cobbler’s son, Thom Darrick, was tossing orange slices to koi. Twin elf archers Lysael and Veren were laughing as they bet on which fish would get to eat first. Hana Greer, Miranna’s oldest human friend, sat on the basin rim. Her friend’s brown curls always found a way to escape her hair kerchief. “Finally!” Hana exclaimed, hopping down, her skirts swishing. “I thought you’d ditched us for dragon secrets.” Thom winked at Shale Spark. “She is a secret. We don’t tell the bakery who keeps raiding their cooling racks for us.” Shale Spark offered an innocent rumble. Miranna laughed. “Where to first? Tavern or tower view?” She felt the usual pang when the word ”tower” meant outside the cloud-shrouded structure. “Food,” Veren decided. “I haven’t eaten since the second bell.” “You never eat,” Lysael shot back. “You inhale.” The friendly bickering trailed them down Lantern Row, past stalls where dwarven spices competed with elven beadwork and human wind - toys. A trio of musicians strummed chords. Their dragon friend Shale Spark hummed along, off - key but enthusiastic. Children waved at the usual group, and one tiny human girl ran up, hugged the dragon’s foreleg, then scampered back to her mother. Everyone sees her as family, Miranna thought. For all their differences, the city breathed as one body. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ɴovelfire.net They slid into The Silver Ladle, a low - roofed inn famous for bread bowls the size of dwarven helms. Taproom scents carried rosemary stew, thick buttered crust, and dwarven malt. Everything here was like a hug to Miranna. They claimed a corner table. Hana nudged Miranna once the tavern girl left with their order. “So, guess what?” “He proposed?” Miranna guessed, seeing a slight glow in Hana’s eyes. “Almost!” Hana flushed pink. “He asked what ring size I wear.” Thom choked on water. Lysael and Veren both whooped. Miranna squeezed Hana’s hands. “I’m thrilled. Ulric’s a good warrior and a better man.” “He worries I’ll get tired of adventuring with him.” Hana’s gaze flicked to Miranna. She could see the apology hiding there. “Not that I’ve done the big delves yet, but… You know.” Miranna shrugged, careful to keep her envy locked up. “Life’s an adventure. Rings and blades included.” Hana relaxed. “You’ll stand with me?” “Try stopping me,” Miranna proclaimed, hugging her friend. The food arrived, large bread bowls brimming with venison stew. The conversation slipped into easy patterns. Thom boasting of his first enchanted boot commission, the twins arguing arrow fletch patterns, and Hana recounting yesterday’s rune - class mishap where a glyph was misshapen into “flatulence.” Their laughter could have added crow’s feet around their crinkled eyes. Every minute brought relief from the stress and worries of life. Only once did the subject of dungeons surface. Veren had offhandedly mentioned his team’s clearance of the Catacombs dungeon. Silence fell over the table for just a breath. Miranna kept her face pleasant, spooning broth slowly to her lips. Lysael elbowed her brother. “Different topic.” “It’s fine,” Miranna said as she set her spoon down. “I’m glad someone gets to test their mettle. Besides, what’s ten or twenty more years for someone like me?” Hana shot her a worried look. Miranna flashed reassurance. One day, she told herself for the hundredth time. Soon. They left the Ladle under a rising moon. Streetlamps flickered on, casting warm halos. Multiple couples strolled, a day of rest tomorrow giving everyone a chance to enjoy a nice evening out. Somewhere, a distant smith hammered the familiar sound, calling out to her. Miranna’s new Blacksmithing sense tingled, mapping each strike. “Walk home with me?” Hana asked. The group broke apart. Thom waved as he made his way to the cobbler row, both twins bounding off toward the guard barracks. Shale Spark trotted at Miranna’s side, her head now level with some rooftop eaves. Hana’s cottage sat near the eastern wall of the orchard. Apple blossoms scented the breeze even though the harvest was still months away. At the gate, Hana paused, fidgeting. Hana bit her lip. “Ulric’s setting a date, but… I often think about how small I am compared to everything. Elves live centuries. Dragons do too. You…” She gestured. “You’re Miranna.” Miranna placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Gold eyes met brown. “Worth isn’t measured by lifespan, Hana. It’s measured by how wide you open your heart. My parents and all the others remind me each day that what matters most is the people in your life. And I am thankful you’re in mine.” Hana’s eyes glistened. She hugged Miranna fiercely. “Tell your mom she gives good speeches.” If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. “I will, but you’d rather have my dad bake you congratulatory scones.” “If that’s a bribe, I’ll take them.” They parted. Miranna watched her friend disappear behind the garden gate, her heart buzzing bittersweet. Shale Spark nudged her. “Walk off the restlessness?” “I was thinking… run.” Miranna scratched the wyrmling’s scaly chin. The moonlight slid silver over red scales. “We keep saying no dungeons. But that doesn’t mean no monsters . The woods still attract critters from the lower dungeons. Nothing you or I would have to worry about.” The dragon’s eyes flared orange. “Finally! I thought you’d never take flight!” Miranna laughed, using the necklace her father had given her. Faster than her heart could beat, she now had on her light breastplate. Part of her felt guilty as she patted the storage necklace. There were tons of things inside it. A basic sword, multiple daggers, and other weapons, food and water, a coil of rope, plus an emergency flour - bomb for when life needed something weird, according to her dad. They slipped through the east gate. The guards recognized them and simply waved, used to Miranna’s midnight herbal hunts. Beams of moonlight pierced between the tall trees beyond the sight of the city walls. The forest smelled of damp moss and the sweetness of sap. Miranna drew her sword but kept it low. She felt Shale Spark pace alongside, wings half unfurled for stealth balance. “Rodent… rabbit… Something bigger is off that way, but it’s faint.” The dragon’s nostrils flared. “To the northeast.” They moved quietly. Miranna’s footsteps barely rustled; a decade of training with elves and her father had taught her the ability to move silently. Part of her could almost feel how to vanish from sight as he did. It was there, like an itch in the middle of her back she couldn’t reach. Like the other skills she now had, that itch had one day been resolved on its own. The idea of how it all worked was fascinating, but she pushed that curiosity aside. Right now, she was doing what all her friends had done. The brush thickened, finally opening into a starlit glade. A boar-like beast, with a mottled green hide and stony horns, rooted the ground. A dungeon spawn! I think it’s a grove cragswine. She recalled the field manual her father had given every adventurer. It lifted its head, small eyes red. Shale Spark growled, causing the cragswine to charge. Miranna met it head-on. She knew a spear would be a better match for a creature , but watching how fast it came told her everything she needed to know. It was slow and weak. She wasn’t. She angled her blade, making her stance perfect. At last! A real test. She sidestepped at the last instant, her blade carving the boar’s flank. The beast turned with speed that surprised her slightly. Miranna parried the tusk that came toward her, shifting her weight and easily displacing the momentum it struck with. She pivoted, letting Parry’s instinct guide her blade. She caught a horn with her off - hand and vaulted into the air, planting her boots on its back, using her momentum and weight to drive her sword into its hide. Shale Spark came forward as Miranna moved out of the way. Large jaws snapped at its thick neck. Steam rose from where the dragon’s saliva met rocky skin. The beast tried to buck, but it was stuck. A blade in its back, its neck held fast by a dragon. Miranna rode the attempt to remove her. She reversed her grip on the horn and stabbed behind its skull. The cragswine shuddered before it collapsed. Silence returned to the forest, broken only by a dragon’s thrum. Miranna hopped down. Her heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. “You okay?” “I barely got a nibble . Perhaps I can get a few more snacks in,” Shale Spark replied. Miranna wiped her blade on the grass. This wasn’t hard. She was stronger than most bronze - rank adventurers already. But this was her first kill, earned with no hovering parents. She glanced at the dead beast. She knew she could salvage the tusks. So Miranna knelt, summoned her small carving knife— A sudden prickle danced up her spine. She stood, scanning the trees. Probably Father’s alarm sense, she thought wryly. Even miles away, she swore he’d twitch when she fought. Shale Spark nuzzled her shoulder. “Another?” Miranna considered that question. The thrill of a new path tugged at her heart. “One more. Then home.” They turned deeper into the woods. They hunted minor spawns. A stoneback hare and a four - eyed owl fell to them, nothing like the tower’s real horrors her parents spoke of, yet more than wild deer. Each victory felt like she was weaving her own thread beside the tapestry of her parents’ legend. Crystal hounds didn’t pose a risk, no matter how fast they might be. On the return trip home, Shale Spark finished eating the hare. Miranna carried the bundled tusks on her back as the moon descended toward the treetops. Makes me wish I had a larger storage space… I wonder if Dad knew I might do this and thus made it so I would have to choose what I store and what I don’t. She replayed the fights over and over in her mind. Foot placement, breath timing, and every swing of her blade mattered. Each fight got easier as she learned the pattern of what she faced. Like training with her father, except any injury here would mean having to use the potion she had been given. Replacing it would mean telling the truth. Her Weapon Mastery skill seemed to call out to her with each attack she made. Almost as if it approved of every strike she landed. Her Parry skill had nearly felt alive, even though it was now quiet. Both were more like muscle memory that did what was right in the moment. Somewhere deeper, she sensed an echo. Her Blacksmithing had evaluated the tusk weight the moment she held it, imagining handles she could make from them. “You didn’t use magic, why not?” Shale Spark asked. “I’d rather not have flashes of lightning or fire show up over the tree tops,” Miranna replied. “That would be like sending out a flare for someone who might be looking for me.” “You are wise for a youngling,” her dragon friend teased Miranna smiled at the night sky. Whatever came, she’d meet it with every bit of her being. And probably a dragon at her side, muttering about “nibbling” during battles. They reached the east gate just as dawn painted the horizon pink. The guard saluted. He didn’t give a lecture or ask any probing questions, which surprised her slightly. Miracles of being the godchild . Inside the walls, bakery smells wafted from the city center. Miranna’s stomach growled. “Breakfast first,” she told Shale Spark. “Then we hide the trophies before Dad asks.” “He’ll sniff them out. He has a good nose.” “Probably,” Miranna admitted, but her grin held no regret. Last night had been worth any scolding she might give them. Inside the city, the twin obelisks pulsed once. It felt like a slow, approving heartbeat. Miranna felt the echo of something inside her ribs, acknowledging it. She hurried toward home. Part of her was eager to share the adventure with Mom. Perhaps Dad would spar with her again and this time see that she was ready to fight. Maybe she could forge tusk - handled carving knives for the palace kitchen if they could look past what she had done. Shale Spark bounded ahead, her tail a red banner to all who saw it. Miranna laughed, following her friend. For once, the walls didn’t feel so confining.