Thea Wyvern had heard stories about Aestus all the time. Everyone in Creasan had. But warrior that she was, Thea had studied every single detail of The Legend of The Fire War. She knew every maneuver that had been made, every syllable that had been uttered, every character at play. She knew it all.
But nothing had prepared her for the absolute terror of coming nose-to-nose with the enormous beast.
Aestus' head alone must've the size of the palace's entire west wing. His scales vibrated with fury as he glared down at her with his scorching orange serpent eyes and his searing breath burning her cheeks. Thea would have taken stock of the rest of his body if her eyes weren't glued to the monstrosity of his face. It was all she could do not to pass out.
How could it be that the very thing Thea had desired for so long was standing just in front of her, stamping his foot, yet she couldn't seem to get any words past the dryness of her throat?
"We, uh, we mean you no harm," said Fendrel, raising his shaking arms in surrender.
Aestus bared his teeth at the prince. The entire group gasped and flinched away.
Fendrel steeled himself and pressed on with wavering voice, "I-I-I am a Lance. You may speak if you, uh, if you wish. I will understand you."
Aestus cocked his head to the side. Then he stretched forward and sniffed the air around Fendrel. Fendrel squeezed his eyes tightly shut, braced for whatever was about to happen. As a soldier, he'd been in many harrowing situations where he had to rely on his training and resolve to see him through. But this was different. How does one prepare for horror at the hands of their own god?
Fendrel peeked an eye open to find a burning red serpent's eye just a few inches away from his own. And then the prince heard a soft, gravelly voice in his head:
You are of Lance blood?
Fendrel licked his lips and nodded.
You are...King of Creasan?
"Prince, sir."
Aestus grunted and looked at him with a studious gleam.
Peronell whispered to Carac, "What do you think he's saying?"
Carac shrugged, at a complete loss.
But the whole group whirled around in shock when Thea answered, "He asked if Fendrel was king."
Even Aestus turned his enormous head in her direction.
To anyone who didn't know Thea, she might have looked like a small, unassuming girl. Not very tall—though taller than Isolde, but that wasn't saying much—and her frame was small, made even smaller by the fur she wore. And the way her answer seemed to stun even herself and made her eyes stare up wide at the dragon rendered the image of an innocent little girl.
Fendrel turned his eyes to Thea with clenched jaw. "You can hear him?"
She blinked several times and nodded. A million thoughts raced through her mind at the same moment, all of them filled with confusion and questions and a bit of fear. They got tangled together before they could find their way out of her mouth, lodging themselves in a lump at the back of her throat.
Aestus took in everyone's surprise and quickly surmised, You are not Lance.
"No, sir." Thea bowed her head.
Then you must be Wyvern.
She looked back up at that, her lips parted. "How did you...?"
