Six months had passed since Melusine had been found outside the Dragon's Labyrinth, laid out in the midwinter snow. She had never been a friend to any of the villagers, but now they avoided her. Closed off from the rest of the world with only gossip for entertainment, her peculiar disappearance act had spread like wildfire. The village had ostracized Melusine's family long before her father's death, but their treatment had gotten worse after her stint in the Forbidden Caves. Melusine had always tended to avoid interaction with the villagers, but lately she was lucky to get a single word said to her during errands. To make matters worse, her mother was being turned away from her side job of mending old clothes.

She sat on a stool in front of a window in her home, one elbow propped up on the sill. The new red pigment of her eyes was reflected in the warped glass and fractured by cracks. She could barely make out the mud of the pig pen outside due to the clouding and age-old dust.

Melusine's mother entered their shabby hut, her dark brown hair tied up in a messy and knotted bun. Mud caked her boots, face, hands, and her cheap linen skirt. Melusine's focus shifted to a spindly spider balancing on its web in the corner of the window.

She scrambled for something to kill the spider with, settling for a tin cup on the tiny dining table in the corner. The flat bottom smacked down on top of the creepy arachnid before it could scurry away. Melusine cursed under her breath. The cup was crushed flat like it was made of paper, not metal. She attempted to toss the crumpled tin away, but her mother plucked it from her hands.

Custance Tepes flipped the thin disk, a forced smile on her cracked lips.

"I don't suppose you could mold it back into a cup?" Melusine's mother asked of her.

"I... doubt it," Melusine admitted. The disk was placed on the windowsill, the spider's remains twitching on the underside.

Custance's fingers curled underneath Melusine's chin as she stared into her daughter's eyes. Her once fair and smooth brow had become ruddy and wrinkled with old age and a lifetime's worth of worry. Years spent with limited and often foul food had made both mother and daughter's cheeks sallow. Despite all of their blemishes from a rough life, Melusine had taken pride in sharing her mother's innate comely features. Except now she had a blemish that distinguished her from Custance.

"I've only seen red jadeite once... but your eyes remind me of it," her mother murmured. With a light and playful flick under Melusine's chin, she let go. "You can't laze about the whole day, Melly. Go fetch some water. I'm making soup tonight."

"Again?" Melusine groaned, but despite her childish whining got to her feet.

"Yes, again," her mother scoffed. She smacked Melusine's side with the rag tucked into the strap of her apron. The teen squeaked and bent her torso in an attempt to avoid the attack. "Now get going."

"You got my tunic all dirty!" Melusine accused, pulling her clothing taut and rubbing at the undyed grey linen.

"It's just a bitty ol' smudge! Staying inside so much isn't good for your health, and it's only to the well and back. Ask around for potatoes while you're at it, we're running low."

Melusine grunted in reply, hiked up her skirt hem, and shoved her feet into her boots by the door. She couldn't even get her hands on fresh produce. Only rotten vegetables and junk were offered to her from the stalls nowadays. The baker had begun to toss her his oldest bread like it was charity, even with product spotted with mold. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother and caught the grim sadness in her eyes. Her mother cleared her throat, pursed her lips, and turned her back on Melusine. "Time to go, Melly," she urged again in a suddenly quiet voice.

Melusine silently obeyed, but not before slamming the rickety door shut behind herself. Skirt held up well above her ankles, Melusine stomped through the muck that eternally surrounded her home. It was easier than it used to be to pull her boot free from the sunken hole her weight made. Her toes curled in an attempt to keep grip onto the inner sole of her boots. When she'd reached the ramshackle fence surrounding her family's humble property, Melusine heaved a sigh of relief to ease the stress tightening around her lungs. Melusine gripped onto a fence post to catch her breath.

The post was actually a stick— a chopped off branch sharpened to a point and stuck in the ground, then dulled and frayed over time. The entire fence was made of thin stripped wood, all bent and leaning to form a rough outline of their claim to land. She pushed her bangs back, then glanced at the decrepit, slanting shack that her father had pieced together and then abandoned in death. The young lady with eyes of red jadeite turned her back on her home and picked up the water bucket from its spot outside the mud.

Her trek down the path through the woods was silent and relatively peaceful. Sunshine peeked through the pine needles of the evergreen forest, fluffy white clouds rolling at a lazy pace across the sky. There was a gentle breeze, and Melusine could swear she smelled a hint of salt in the air. Perhaps her mother was right, and stepping out would be good for her. If only the villagers weren't so insufferable.

When she reached the village gates proper, she nodded her head at the guards posted on either side. Ever since she was discovered outside the Dragon's Labyrinth, the guards would click their tongues at her as if she were a leper. But today they merely tensed and turned their heads away. Melusine stopped in her tracks and stared at the guard to her right, then to her left. The longer they refused to look at her, the more her stare turned into a glower.

"Dullards," Melusine muttered and kicked some dirt in their direction before she passed into the village market square. Trying to confront the guards would only escalate the situation into taking a bad turn—that was a truth Melusine learned at a relatively young age.

The square had little in the way of adornments or wealth. A few necessities such as bread and produce were being sold in store fronts along the edges of the square. Most of the buildings were made of stone and wood, with thatch roofs. The windows had only simple shutters or curtains to protect inhabitants from the elements. In the center was the community well, decorated with potted plants. In Melusine's eyes, decoration was an unnecessary endeavor that only got in the way, but the community and her mother insisted that it was a "good," and "pleasant," thing for the village.

A gaggle of village girls stood by the farmer's market stall, one of them glaring at her over the shoulder of a man in a suit of armor. The girls were Melusine's age, the youngest being a mere sixteen winters, but they were flirting with a maturity that was beyond Melusine. The stranger's hair gleamed in the sun; his helmet carried under his arm. The glaring villager's finger pointed at the red-eyed teenager, and the man's head turned. Melusine was quick to continue on her errands.

She had to step over a few bushy pots as she trudged up to the well. She placed the bucket on the stone brick rim and gripped onto the pulley rope.

"Melusine Tepes," a baritone voice called from her left. It belonged to the man who'd been speaking with the village girls. His ash blonde hair swayed in the gentle breeze, and his narrow eyes were like two brilliantly shining sapphires. Melusine could see why the girls had been swooning over him. But despite his beauty, he was obviously fully grown, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He was of average height for a human man, which meant that he was eye level with Melusine. His armor was blued to a near black and decorated with white paint, the designs symmetrical arches and markings that reminded Melusine of blooming flowers.

"Yes?" Melusine replied in a reluctant and hard tone with a raised eyebrow. She noticed that the villager girls were now waiting in a disorderly line, heaved a sigh, picked up her bucket, and approached the man in armor. "Who are you?"

"My name is Baugulf, Miss Tepes," the blonde answered with a fist pressed to his chest plate in greeting. "Would you be willing to answer a few questions in private?" Melusine's left eyebrow quirked further up towards her temple.

"Am I suspected of a crime?"

"No, it's merely—"

"Has there been a crime that you suspect I have information on?"

"No—"

"Are you even a guard or investigator?"

"A knight, actually—"

Melusine put the bucket down on the ground, turned on her heel, and sped away as fast as she could. "My father always told me not to follow strangers to secluded places. Goodbye."

"Wait, please, Miss Tepes!" The man followed her, quicker on his feet than she expected. He was either more athletic than his pretty face belied, or the armor was lighter than it looked. "Speaking somewhere with other people around is acceptable too."

"You're suspicious, and I don't want to answer any questions!" Getting a bit desperate and not wanting to run home to her mother with Baugulf—if that was his real name—tailing her, Melusine dashed into the closest storefront and held the door shut behind her.

"Melusine, what are you barging in here for?!" Kenneth, the baker's son, exclaimed. He was a few years younger than Melusine, and he wasn't the sort to be noticed by girls, but he'd always seemed fine with that. Because he shared Melusine's lack of interest in socializing, Melusine always had a soft spot for him.

She heard Baugulf fluster and huff on the other side of the door even over Kenneth's confused squawking. When Baugulf rattled the handle and tried to push the door open, all of Melusine's weight was put into pressing against the oak door.

"I'm sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot," the blond stranger grunted out from the strain of their reverse tug-of-war. His tone sounded baffled and almost impressed that she was holding her own against him. Malachite pigmented scales emerged in Melusine's skin, patches covering her forearms and temples. The baker's son made his way from behind the counter to tug on her arm, but when he saw the scales, he screamed and hid behind the counter. "What are you doing in there?!"

"Nothing!" Melusine snapped, shooting a glare at the scaredy-cat.

"I heard a scream!"

"Kenneth's always been a crybaby!"

"Who's Kenneth?!" Baugulf's tone was now appalled, and the handle rattled furiously.

"Who cares who Kenneth is?"

"Hey," the baker's son objected, his tone hurt. Melusine wagged her finger at Kenneth and hushed him. At this point she was only mildly surprised that she could hold the door shut with just one hand. Baugulf cursed under his breath, but Melusine was still able to hear it through the door. A grin stretched across her chapped lips, and she glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 

"I'll make Kenneth choke on his own moldy bread if you don't leave me alone!" Melusine shouted through the door. "What's a fancy city person like you doing all the way out here in Hathorn anyway?"

"I was sent to retrieve you by order of King Adelric the Third!" Baugulf admitted and kicked at the door. "You shouldn't harm other people just because you're the Dragon's Proxy!"

"The what?" Melusine's eyebrows furrowed.

There was a tingle on her neck and arms. Melusine kicked out like a startled horse. It was only when she heard Kenneth yelp and drop to the floor that she registered how her body had reacted. "Damn," Melusine muttered under her breath. She stopped applying her weight to the door in favor of turning and squatting down by the side of the village's promising next baker. Kenneth was prone on his side, clutching at his calf with both hands. The store door immediately was opened, and the aghast blonde knight stepped inside.

"Did you truly use violence against a citizen?"

"I didn't mean to! It's just happened sometimes ever since— oh never mind. Kenneth, I didn't break a bone, did I?"

"Why do you ask that like you're genuinely worried you might have?" Kenneth grunted out, trembling on his side like a newborn foal.

"Well..." Melusine closed her eyes, remembering all the times she'd shown a sudden amount of strength in the past six months. The broken table that she cracked in half with a mere angry strike of her fist, the discovery that she could now drag their fattest pig from his trough with ease, and the look of horror on her mother's face the first time Melusine had picked up their old hen only to crush its body between her arms. "Did I or not?"

"I want so desperately to say yes... just to see the look on your face. But no, I don't think you did."

"Shut up, you jerk. If I didn't break anything, stop whining and get up."

"It still hurt, you know. And a girl shouldn't crouch down like you're doing. It's unladylike." Melusine rolled her eyes and stood up straight.

"Fine, stay down there for all I care." Melusine turned towards the door once more, only to be met with Baugulf blocking the exit with an awkward and guilty expression. Melusine heaved a deep sigh and hung her shoulders. "Let's talk near the gates. The guards are more or less useless, but they'll have to step in if you try anything suspicious."

"That's acceptable," Baugulf replied with a strained smile. Melusine glared at him as she passed on her way to exit the store.

"What does the king want with me?"

"I thought you wanted to talk at the village gates," Baugulf teased. Melusine felt her cheeks grow hot and she turned her nose up at the knight.

"I can still ask questions while we walk."

Baugulf chuckled and his tense muscles relaxed. "The Dragon's Proxy is meant to serve the king, just as the previous Proxy did."

"There's been others?" Melusine mumbled, half to herself. "What if I don't have any desire to serve the king?"

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," the knight told her in a soft voice. Melusine froze in place, stopped right where she'd started—next to the well. "Your mother had word sent to the guard captain of the capital some time ago, asking for you to be escorted to the king."

Melusine stared at the well and then the bucket that she'd left behind nearby. Rage took over her mind, and her vision became doused with a crimson hue. Her own mother had sent her out to be whisked away by strangers. Images flashed through her mind of the final time she'd seen her mother, the grim and knowing glint in her eyes, the way they'd been trying to pretend that nothing was amiss, and finally the dragon hidden in shadow. Melusine started to laugh, and combed her bangs back from her forehead with her fingers. Her nails had grown into sharp claws, green scales appeared around her face, and her eyes glowed a horrid red.

"Ah, I've struck a deal with a demon, not dragon, didn't I? Truly, it has a miraculous ability to grant wishes," she scoffed, broken up amidst her mad laughter. Blinding hot tears stung at her eyes. "What am I to do?"

Melusine's focus was kept locked in front of her, her jaw set. Every fiber of her energy went into maintaining an exterior of stone. Her ears pricked with the sound of her mother sobbing into her hands.

"Please, Melly, forgive me," her mother wept. "I didn't know what else to do. At this rate, you'll hurt someone!"

"You mean that you're worried you won't be able to feed yourself," Melusine accused.

"That isn't it at all!" Her mother tried to pull her down into a hug, but Melusine shook her off. "Melly, I barely understand what's happened to you. With your father not around anymore, I can't risk the villagers turning on you. I can't... protect you on my own..." Teeth clenched, Melusine turned her back on her mother. Her muscles twitched and her hands tightened into fists.

"Just say that he's dead," Melusine muttered under her breath before she spoke clearer. "Ah, sure. You're doing all of this to protect me. Fine. I'll be a good daughter and go then."

"Oh, Melly..." Her mother took in a shuddering breath, and held out a bundle to Melusine. "I want you to take this with you. I love you, Melusine... no matter what, never doubt that. Okay?"

Melusine glanced at the package, rage and bitterness roiling in her, but underneath was hurt and fear. What hid behind her anger won out, and the bundle was pulled close to her chest. It was wrapped in a spare rucksack used for holding grain and tied with a waxed thread. However, even if this last gift was wrapped, Melusine knew what the gift was—at least in general. It had almost no weight, and wasn't stiff or hard.

"I love you too, Mother," Melusine admitted in a small voice. This time, she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace. Her eyes stung. She wrapped a single arm around her mother's back and squeezed. "Don't let anything bad happen to you," she mumbled.

Her mother laughed and hugged her tight. Melusine felt warm water land on her neck. "Look after yourself, and you stay safe too. Or I'll come find you."

"That's... not much of a discouragement." A twinge of grief corrupted her mother's chuckling.

"She will be well looked after, Miss Custance," Baugulf assured. He'd hung back and stood by the carriage, but when Melusine softened her stance, he'd approached.

"Thank you, sir." Melusine's mother kissed her daughter on the cheek, and stepped away. Reluctantly, Melusine took in the visage of her mother and home one last time. Her mother—with her eyes and nose reddened from crying, and her home—run down and ramshackle. She'd miss both dearly.

Melusine stepped into the carriage and let the door shut behind her. Baugulf got on his chestnut steed, and the carriage began the slow progression down the uneven path to the village. Melusine stared down at the package resting in her lap. It felt like hours before she had the courage to pull the string loose. The cream colored tunic was lifted up into the air, every detail absorbed by Melusine. It was simple and plain with tanned leather trim. Black woven string hung loose on the neckline and sleeves, strung between the fabric to allow the cuffs and collar to tighten.

It was only after the procession had passed the village gates that Melusine let herself wail into the tunic.