“It is not witchcraft,” the woman said stubbornly, raising her chin. She was around thirty, with copper hair and a smattering of freckles on her cheekbones, and her lush figure was barely covered by the tasteless dress the bandits had forced her to wear. “I am a healer, my prince—I mix potions and poultices to help the sick and injured, though there are some around here who do not appreciate what I do.” She glared at the matron.
“Lies,” the woman hissed, jabbing a finger at Rofana. “I’ve heard the rumors of your strange dreams and premonitions. Demons have infested your head. They need to be burned out, my prince,” she said earnestly.
Drystan ignored the woman and smiled at Rofana. “You are no mere healer,” he said, taking her by the hand. “The gods have blessed you with foresight. You are the one I have been searching for.”
“I am? Searching for what?”
“The new oracle.”
The woman laughed, running a hand through her wavy hair. “Well, that certainly does explain a lot,” she said. “Mrs. Bantar is right—I have had strange dreams and premonitions for the past six years. In fact, I had a dream that the bandits were coming, and came to warn the mayor myself. But no one would listen to me, and I was still arguing when we were overrun. That is how I was trapped in that house,” she said, raking the building with a loathing stare.
“Well, it is lucky I found you before the bandits killed you,” Drystan said. “Although I suspect the dragon god was protecting you. I have just come from speaking with him, and he told me I would find you soon. Will you come with me then, and take your rightful place?”
Rofana grinned. “I would be a fool to say no,” she said. “Let me pack my belongings.”
She went off to collect her things, and Drystan spoke briefly with the mercenaries, the mayor, and Darion. He secured a promise from the mayor to ensure the mercenaries were paid, and offered them future work at Dragon’s Keep should they be interested. He also got Darion to agree to stable his horse for him until he could send someone to retrieve it later.
“Have you made your goodbyes?” Drystan asked as Rofana approached. She was wearing a simple, modest dress now, her copper hair tied back from her face in a bun. She held a simple traveling sack in her hand.
“Nearly.” She approached the mayor and Darion, the man who’d led the rescue. “Thank you for getting help,” she said to him, “and for always being kind to me.” She hugged Darion, who looked a bit flustered. “And thank you for allowing me to stay and not giving in to those who would have had me driven from here,” she said to the mayor.
“It has been a pleasure,” the mayor said, “and an honor to have a woman chosen by the gods here in our humble town. I do hope you will come and visit again.”
Drystan let her finish her goodbyes as he transformed back into the dragon. The townsfolk gathered to watch as Rofana climbed onto his back, and Drystan was impressed at how confidently she settled herself there. He flapped his wings, sending up a cloud of dust, then launched himself into the sky with a powerful leap. Rofana whooped in delight as they soared above the clouds, and Drystan was pleased to see there was not a hint of fear in her voice. But then again, she was the oracle. It only made sense that she would be a natural rider.
Unlike Dareena, Rofana was perfectly capable of understanding Drystan while he was in dragon form, and they spoke for a bit as they flew to Targon Temple. It turned out that Rofana had been previously married to a carpenter, but sickness had taken her husband only a few years into their marriage, and she had never quite gotten over him. Drystan pitied her, but he supposed it was a good thing that she was unattached, romantically speaking. It would have been much harder to leave her life behind if she’d had a family and children. Were oracles even allowed to marry and start a family? He would have to dig into the library records to find out.
It did not take them long to reach the top of the mountain, and soon enough, Drystan alighted outside the temple. He was pleased to see the torches outside the building were still lit—that meant it hadn’t been deserted. As Rofana disembarked, several low-ranking acolytes ran out of the small house nearby, where the temple staff slept and ate. They all seemed surprised and delighted to see him, though they were a bit confused as to who Rofana was.
“Where are the priests?” Drystan demanded after he’d changed back into human form.
“They deserted shortly after the imposter went missing,” Rofana said, her eyes clouding over briefly as she spoke. They cleared as she smiled at the acolytes. “Isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes,” one of them said. “Do you have the sight, lady?”
“She does,” Drystan said. “In fact, she is your new oracle.”
The acolytes exclaimed over this. Two of them seemed skeptical, while the other, a woman, was delighted.
“I spoke to the dragon god myself today,” Drystan said firmly, “and he told me I would know the oracle by a dragon mark he had placed upon her skin.” He motioned for Rofana to turn around and show the back of her neck. “You are here to serve her, and our kingdom. I expect you to obey her without question.”
“Yes, my prince,” the others said. They sank to their knees and swore fealty to Rofana, who graciously accepted. They offered to prepare a meal for them and fetch some clothing for Drystan, who gratefully took them up on their offer. He’d always had a voracious appetite, but all this shifting had only made it worse. His stomach growled as if he hadn’t enjoyed a meal just two hours before.
The acolytes led them into the temple staff quarters and served them a simple meal of dried meat, rice, and vegetables. Drystan was offered a set of acolyte robes to wear that were a bit too tight in the shoulders, but he took them anyway—it would be unseemly to eat naked with the oracle, after all, though she didn’t seem to mind much.
“So,” Rofana said after they’d taken a few bites, “I assume from what you told me about your visit with the dragon god that you are in great need of an oracle just now.”
Drystan nodded. “We need you to preside over both the marriage ceremony and the coronation,” he said. “But first, we must bring you before the council and convince them that you are the new oracle.” He drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully as he studied her. “Some of them may be convinced by the dragon mark alone, but others may require more compelling evidence. The dragon god said he would take care of that, though I am not sure how.”
Rofana smiled. “If the dragon god said he would provide, then I trust he will. Just as the people must trust in the royal family when they make a decree.”
“Right.” Some of the weight on Drystan’s chest lifted at her words. Rofana was right—he just needed to trust in their god and listen to his advice. So long as they proceeded as planned, and kept Dareena safe, all would go well.
In just a few short months, his people would finally be free of this curse. And dragons would roam these lands once more.
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