“Don’t be rude to her, Balthazar,” Tom muttered between his teeth.
“Montgory is a her?!” the befuddled crab said, one eyestalk stretched higher than the other.
“Always was,” the tiny sli said, her squeaky voice getting even more high-pitched. “You didn’t notice?”
“How was I suppose—” Balthazar shook his shell in utter confusion. “Never mind that! How did you beco so small?! In fact, how did you even get here? I thought you were permanently stuck inside that room at the bottom of Tudor's Hall.”
“And I am,” Montgory said, her tone sohow still carrying the sa gravitas as her previous giant form despite the squeakiness making it completely ineffective at being intimidating.
The crab stared at the small gray blob for a mont, expecting her to elaborate.
“What does that even an?!” he finally said, after nothing else ca out of the sli. “You’re clearly here now. Much smaller and less intimidating, sure, but you are.”
“And I am also there,” the bubbling ooze plainly stated, without elaborating further.
“Erm… Maybe I could help explain things a little better?” said Tom, stepping between the crab and sli with an awkward shrug.
“Yes, Tom, please do!” the confused crustacean said, crossing his arms.
“You may,” said Montgory, bowing her small form slightly.
“So,” the skeleton started, extending his arms with palms facing up. “The Montgory you t—huge, hungry, and glued to the foundation of our dungeon—is still there right now, where you last saw her.”
Balthazar uncrossed his arms and pointed a claw at the tiny ball of goo in front of him. “Alright, but then who is this?”
“That…” the undead said, wincing slightly. “Is also Montgory. Or rather, an offshoot of her main form.”
“What?!”
“We, slis, don’t exist under the sa rules of existence as you,” the undulating gray mass said calmly, slowly, and with a tiny condescending undertone. “When we grow grandiose enough, we can split our being into an offshoot, free to roam and expand elsewhere.”
“What she's trying to say is that she got so big she unlocked the ability to reproduce,” Tom said with a quick shrug.
“Crass skeleton!” Montgory exclaid with squealing indignation.
“So let see if I got this straight,” said Balthazar, holding both pincers up and looking down for a second. “Montgory ate so much junk and got so big that a piece of her plopped out of her body, and that portion of sli also has her consciousness, aning she’s both here and there at the sa ti?”
“Yes, you got it right, more or less,” Tom said.
“A reductive and tactless way of explaining it!” grumbled the ooze.
“And when she heard we were coming here to repurpose this new dungeon of yours,” the undead continued, “she requested we bring her offshoot along, to stay in your dungeon.”
“Oh,” the crab said, turning to the animated muck. “But… why?”
“Well,” Montgory said with high-pitched dignity. “I wished to see this wonderful new dungeon you have here. I wished to expand my sights to et new places and people. I also wished to co see my crab friend who never ca back to visit .”
“Oh,” said Balthazar.
“And because she also wanted to eat more bread,” Tom added dryly.
“Oooh,” the crustacean said. “Now I get it.”
“Indelicate undead!” the annoyed lump of sludge decried.
The skeleton shrugged once again. “It’s true, though.”
“I should devour you for your affront!”
“I don’t think you could digest a single bone as you are right now,” said Balthazar. “Which brings to the question of… how the hell is she supposed to be a ‘boss’ at the end of this floor?! What is she going to do if an adventurer gets this far? Make them keel over from laughter when she starts squeaking at them?”
“Mannerless louts!” squawked the angered mound of gri. “You realize I’m standing right here, do you not?!”
“Just barely.”
“I an,” Tom started, “she can grow. If we feed her.”
“Feed her what?!” exclaid the concerned crab. “I’m not going to dump Madeleine’s delicious pastries into a sli!”
“Fresh baked goods?!” Montgory said. “Pwah! Disgusting! Not a chance! I have no wish to taste such things ever again!”
“What then?” Balthazar asked with a cocked eyestalk.
The pile of goo crawled a little closer and lowered her high-pitched voice to a whisper.
“Do you have any more of that…” Despite having no lips, the sli produced a wet noise of lips smacking that made Balthazar slightly uncomfortable. “Moldy bread?”
The crab looked down and grimaced.
“Uh… No.”
“Don’t worry, pal,” Tom said. “We can do like we started doing at Tudor’s after you left. Whenever we go through the packs of the adventurers who don’t make it through our dungeon, we just take out and store whatever rations they brought in. Then we wait a few days for the bread and stuff to get stale, fernt, and get perfectly moldy, exactly to Montgory’s taste, before feeding it to her.”
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Balthazar’s expression of uncomfortable disgust grew even deeper. “Riiiight…”
“And hey,” the skeleton continued, “maybe that baker you have working out there behind your bazaar could save so of her leftovers until they’re spoiled so we could give them to Monty later.”
The other rchant scoffed. “You think I ever leave leftovers?!”
Tom chuckled.
“Maybe you should start leaving so now, if you want to grow a big and scary giant sli to test your dungeon diver candidates.”
Balthazar sighed.
“Great. Another mouth to feed.”
***
“Again!” Beatrix commanded with her thundering voice that shook the very walls of the cave surrounding her.
Blue growled quietly.
Everything hurt. Her body, her pride, even breathing hurt like a crushing pressure pushing down on her.
Standing at the edge of the cliff overseeing the vast plains, the drake glanced back into the darkness of Beatrix’s lair.
The giant red being watched her from inside, her glowing eyes piercing straight into the smaller creature’s soul and adding even more pressure.
Blue did not understand. She wished she could, but to her, it was an unfathomable mystery, how such a huge dragon could withstand residing up there, so unfazed, unbothered, so… calm.
The air was thin that far up on the mountain. Each breath felt like almost drowning, the coldness of the air like sharp icicles cutting through her insides every ti she inhaled. And it was never enough. The more she breathed in, the less air seed to enter her lungs, which increased her urgency, only making her more lightheaded.
How did the red dragon do it? What was her secret? Magic? A hidden draconic skill she refused to share?
“I said again!” Beatrix roared with authority. “Resting is not an option for you up here. It will only make your state worse the longer you linger. Take flight, push through the adverse effects, endure and persevere. Only then will you grow stronger.”
Blue bared her fangs slightly.
A part of her resented the elder dragon. The drake’s pride felt wounded, humiliated from being made to look weak by Beatrix. But her very pride also knew that she was weak. Her body was smaller, frailer, her powers barely worthy of a draconic creature.
Blue wanted to beco stronger.
For herself, her pride.
The azure drake glanced down at the tiny body of water at the foot of the mountain.
And for her family down below.
Soone needed to protect them. The small goblin. The smiling rocks. The nice baker. And even the crab.
That responsibility was rightfully hers. They were weak, and she must protect them from harm, as their guardian.
But to do that, she could not be weak herself. She needed to grow stronger.
Stronger than any bone monstrosities, evil mages, or scheming little n.
She needed to endure Beatrix’s ordeals.
But the body felt weak. As did the spirit.
“Rise up, child,” the red giant behind her said, her voice softer but still strong enough to make the drake’s insides rumble. “You are not done yet.”
Blue let out a weak growl, her head low as the strength to keep her neck up failed her too.
“Will you lie down and give up too when they need you most?” Beatrix said, her huge head erging from the shadows and nodding toward the pond below.
The azure drake followed the crimson dragon’s gaze and frowned with indignation.
“It will happen,” the elder creature said. “And what excuse will you give yourself then? That you were tired? Perhaps that you were just a drake, too small and not as mighty as a real dragon?”
Blue raised her head with difficulty and looked at her ntor with defiance in her gaze as she growled.
“Good,” said Beatrix. “Let not those old beliefs get in your way. Drake or dragon, you are a creature of draconic blood, never let anyone try to take that from you. Your soul is fire, and your pride steel. Forge yourself in your hardships, for the truly strong are those who claim their strength from the ashes of their weaknesses. Like him.”
The red dragon nodded toward the small roofed shelter at the center of the pond below, and Blue frowned skeptically.
“That’s right,” the ancient creature said. “The crab. Your foster kin. The lowly creature you so often look down on, despite being the one who brought the warmth of life to you. I have seen in your eyes how you feel about my respect for him. You do not understand how or why a creature like would respect a re crustacean. Because you are young. Foolish. Inexperienced. And arrogant.”
The drake turned away from the cliff to look straight at her ntor, the crease between her brow deepening as the slits of her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t worry,” Beatrix said. “Arrogance is part of what makes us proud draconic creatures. But you must learn to temper it with wisdom, and that takes ti and experience. Your foster kin, Balthazar, is not worthy of my respect because he is mightier or more powerful than . He deserves it exactly because he lacks those things, and yet still managed to achieve far more than destiny would ever grant him. I did not believe it myself when Madeleine told all her tales about her crustacean friend down by a pond. But he is far more than ets the eye. I suspected it when he made it to my lair to rescue his friend. I was certain of it when he faced as an equal without a shred of fear. Scoff if you will, young one, but you are his kin. Maybe not in blood, but certainly in spirit.”
Blue stared up at the mighty red dragon before her. Sothing stirred inside the young drake, despite her not understanding what it was.
She could sense wisdom from Beatrix. Truth. Insight. But also sothing else, deep down, where only two of the sa kind could see. She felt… sorrow.
“Heed my words and make not the sa mistakes of youth that I have,” the elder dragon said.
The azure drake gazed up at her with curiosity. The dragon seed almost tired now, her figure carrying a great weight upon her back. Beatrix looked as if in the span of just a few minutes, several years had worn down on her.
The red giant turned her head up to look at the sky outside before closing her eyes, letting the bitter-cold breeze brush against her scales. Blue noticed the light from the outside hitting the long scar that ran down her neck. It intrigued her. Draconic creatures like them should be able to heal such things in no ti, yet hers did not seem to be going away.
“You must keep trying,” Beatrix said after taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to look down at her apprentice. “You can fly, but you have not yet learned how to fully master the skies this high up. You can breathe fire, but you have not yet learned how to control your breathing properly.”
The drake’s frown returned to her expression.
“Try harder,” the elder commanded. “You rely spit fire right now. When you are ready, you will be the fire. Go, take flight again. Ta your weaknesses. Endure. Until your body becos worthy of your pride.”
Feeling the challenge that burned inside her stomach, Blue screeched loudly and launched herself off the cliff with wings spread wide. The freezing wind bit like frost into her nostrils, but she pushed through it, determined.
“Yes, you can do it,” Beatrix said in a pained whisper as she watched the drake soaring through the clouds. “You must. While there is still ti.”
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