Sir Nestor posed a problem.

 

Aurelia wanted to delay the coming battle for as long as possible. Seeing her sister wounded had chilled her fire and removed even the slightest hint of impatience. She had not noticed any magic on the lance, but enchantments were not always noticeable.

 

Historically, they and dragons never got along. Aurelia knew of many stories of them seeking out dragons in their own lairs. It was very rude, and no dragon appreciated it. What was worse was that just enough of the knights succeeded in their seemingly suicidal attacks that more and more took up the mantle each generation. Truly, they were a blight upon the land.

 

A blight, yes, but not always. It was strange and she could not get the thought out of her head. Sir Nestor had helped her. More than helped, he had saved her, in a way. Of all the twists of fate she could have expected, that one would never have crossed her mind. She was grateful, of course, but it left her with quite the conundrum. The solution to ‘the Nestor Problem’ should have been obvious: fly over, torch him, and be done with it. It was just that, after he had done her such a great service, the idea of scorching him to a crisp had lost a lot of its charm. “What to do, what to do…” she muttered.

 

“By Tooth and Claw!” she roared to the empty room, “First the little human girl and now this thrice-cursed knight? A dragon does not have obligations to a human, any human.  No knights, no little girls, no one! I am the daughter of Nal-Arzul, terror of the world and slayer of heroes! I have no reason to feel—"

 

The word, once spoken aloud, silenced her. That was the question, was it not? What did she feel? Whatever it was, it was an entirely foreign sensation not unlike a bunch of nervous gnomes dancing on the inside of her rib-cage. It drove her mad and set her pacing back and forth across the room. It would normally have brought some comfort, but whenever she turned back, the little girl’s doll met her gaze from corner where it sat. It had a sort of throne now. On a whim, Aurelia had melted a goblet into the crude shape of a chair and set the doll upon it. Now the toy beamed out at the world, ever-smiling and not a hint of judgement in its eyes.

 

Aurelia stared at the little girl’s gift for the hundredth time. She searched for some sort of secret, some meaning in its button-eyes. But hers own draconic eyes, which could pick out a squirrel from three hundred meters up through a dense canopy or spot a rat scuttling along the wall in pitch-darkness, found nothing but buttons and old thread. She turned, however, and approached it.

 

“You,” she said, “I don’t suppose you know the answer.”

 

The doll remained silent.

 

Aurelia snorted. “Figures.” She sat down. “I always thought humans were so simple. Show up, scare them, maybe kill a few, and they turn over their gold and send you on your way. No fuss and very little muss. But they’re not, are they? Even if they were simple, one on one, put them all together and everything gets…” She paused, gesturing vaguely with a claw as if beckoning the word to her. “Muddled.”

 

She sighed. “You were made by them. I don’t suppose you have any advice? It is not like I can just—” She became acutely aware of a pair of eyes on her and whirled sharply. In the door, just having come in, was the Captain of the Guard. Her Captain of the Guard. John Usk, if she recalled rightly. The one who had failed to show up on time or be of any help whatsoever. She cleared her throat and stood in front of the doll to conceal it. “You,” she said venomously.

 

The man had the good sense to swallow nervously. “You called for me, your excellency?”

 

“How very astute,” Aurelia snapped, “Do remember that I intend to do so in the future as well. I strongly suggest you never be late again.”

 

“Of course,” Usk stammered and began backing towards the door, “Thank you, Lady Aurelia.”

 

She raised a claw and cut his retreat short. “However,” she said, “As payment for your lateness, there is one thing I need from you.” She leaned forward and propped her head up on her foreclaws. “Tell me everything you know about knights.”

 

“Knights?” Usk repeated, a look of slight distaste crossing his features, “What about them?”

 

“Start with everything and go from there,” Aurelia countered testily.

Usk nodded and considered how best to comply. “Knights are,” he said at last, “a complicated thing. They get all the best armor, weapons, and training, but don’t do any of the hard soldiering. Most of the time they sit around in some lord’s feast hall and call for more ale. The only time they get off their noble bottoms is when some ‘honorable’ quest comes up. Then, they all mount their horses and race each other to be the first to smash whatever needs smashing in the face so they can brag to their friends about it and have minstrels sing about it in the taverns.”

 

Aurelia frowned. This did not fit well with her image of Sir Atherholt, though he had been at the tavern when she found him. Setting that thought aside for now, the dragoness continued her line of questioning. “How do you become a knight?”

​

“Birth, mostly,” Usk replied with a shrug, “Though sometimes an actual soldier will do something impressive in front of the king and get knighted.”

​

Aurelia pressed forward, sensing something under the surface. “And what is the difference between a knight and a normal soldier?”

 

Usk’s face colored. “A soldier is a noble man, with or without a title. They defend the land, walk the streets, fight to keep the forces of anarchy and destruction at bay. Professionals, we are. A knight is a lazy layabout who thinks that, since he has a horse, he can look down on the whole world. Even worse are the ones with castles.” He spat.

 

“Professionals?” Aurelia repeated, skeptical, “Then how come none of you have so much as dared to shake a spear at me, while Sir Nestor not only attacked but also wounded my sister?”

 

Usk spluttered and floundered. “That’s just the sort of thing they do,” he fumed, “Go off and look for something to hit so they can brag about it. No sense of the overall picture. Why, if we’d attacked you, you’d have burned down half the town.”

 

“At least,” Aurelia agreed.

 

“Well, there you go,” Usk said, a note of triumph in his voice, “And we’re charged with protecting the town, see. That’s our duty to the king. So, we decided it’d be far less dangerous to let you be. Better for the people, you understand.”

 

“And yourselves,” Aurelia stated. Usk’s expression became one of wounded pride. “But I applaud your pragmatism.” She rose and let herself loom over him. The man took a nervous step back. “Just so long,” she said, “As you remember that I am your commander now. You will serve me, yes?”

 

“Yes, of course,” he said.

 

She smiled and bared her teeth. “Then do not mention the king to me again.”

 

The man’s face paled, but he stammered out something about doing as she wished and being an obedient, loyal servant. Aurelia highly doubted it, but she had no one lined up to replace him, so she would accept that for now.

​

“Thank you for your time,” she said, trying to keep her growing distaste towards the man out of her voice, “You may leave.

 

He did, and very quickly.

 

Aurelia sank back into her musings. What he told her had been very interesting, but not very helpful. However, one thing in particular Usk had said did catch her attention. Knights had “the best armor, weapons, and training”. An idea dawned on her and seized hold of mind, like a spark lighting a pile of kindling. A magic weapon. Was not her father’s armory full of such things? Swords that moved on their own, spears that crackled with electricity, bows that shrouded their arrows in flame? Sir Nestor must have some sort of magic lance. It seemed so obvious, she could hardly forgive herself for missing it.

 

She began to pace. A magic weapon! Well, in that case, she needed information. A burning need awoke in her chest to have the lance for herself, to add it to her own hoard. She shook her head. No, no time to think of that now. She had to focus. She needed to know what powers it had. Which means, she had to either get Sir Nestor to tell or watch as he used it. But who could she trust to ask and report to her truthfully?

​

No one. The answer was no one. She had to go herself and ask. But of course, who better? Her keen, dragon senses and superior mind would quickly find the truth of the matter. With confidence surging inside her, Aurelia took to the air and headed back to the tavern where they had first met.

 

She was not at all surprised to find Sir Nestor once again in the middle of a crowd of people. This time the knight was not in his armor, but appeared to be relaxing on the porch with his wounded leg up on a stool. It looked as though he had not moved for hours, and yet a large crowd hovered around him. Contrary to the impression Usk had given her, it seemed that they had sought him out instead of the reverse.

 

When she landed in front of the inn, the crowd shied away, but did not leave. They glowered at her, jaws sullenly clenched and hands balling into fists. The Knight’s mere presence gave them an irritating spark of courage. She returned the glower in kind.

 

“Out of the way,” she demanded, “I wish to speak to the knight.”

 

“If you wanna kill him,” one of them shouted, “You’re gonna have to get through us first.” The others chorused their agreement.

 

Aurelia felt flames rise in her throat. Perhaps it was time to quash that ridiculous courage once and for all. She opened her mouth to let forth a string of curses and names, but Nestor raised his hand.

 

“Good people,” he said, and again in order to get their attention, “Good people, I know something that you must learn.” They turned away from Aurelia and back to him. “This dragon-” He gestured towards her. “-as saved your town. If not for her, I and all of you would be nothing but charred corpses.”

 

The crowd murmured in astonishment, and Aurelia also felt a twinge of surprise. She had not expected him to defend her.

 

“Yes,” he continued, “She even went so far as to fling herself in front of one of your houses, a house where a mother lives with her only daughter, the apple of her eye. If not for her brave actions, this dragon’s sister would have burnt it to the ground, along with the rest.”

 

The crowd considered this. “She was just protecting her ‘property’!” one of them snarled.

 

Nestor shook his head. “I do not think so.”

 

Aurelia glowered at them all. However, she did glance back at the house where that little human girl lived. It was untouched, save for a scratch along the roof. A stray wing or claw could have left that.

 

The crowd was sizing her up again. She felt her hackles rise. They better like what they see. She was absolutely gorgeous, a wonder to behold, and very humble about it too.

 

“Leave us,” she ordered the crowd. They hesitated for a moment, but a snarl convinced them that discretion was, in fact, the better part of valor. They quickly made for the inn and closed the door behind them.

 

Sir Nestor looked up at her. “Well,” he said, “I assume you aren’t here to kill me. You might be, for all I know, but I like to think the best of people.”

 

Aurelia smiled humorlessly. “No,” she said, “I am not here to kill you.”

He nodded. A long pause fell between them. He reached to the table beside him and took a sip of the drink placed there. “So,” he prompted.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What are you here for?”

 

Aurelia studied his expression and found mild curiosity and some apprehension. She decided that the direct approach was best. Why waste time on games right now? “I have a question.”

 

He gestured for her to continue.

 

“Your lance,” she said, “What powers does it possess?”

 

Nestor leaned back and pursed his lips. “Well,” he said, “It is somewhat sharp and quite pointy. Good shaft too. Very sturdy. It will break eventually, but it should last for another half a year, assuming no heavy use.”

 

Aurelia glared. “You know that is not what I meant. What magic does it have?”

 

“None,” he replied, “It is a lance. That is all.”

 

Her lips pulled back in a snarl. “Do not test me. It pierced my sister’s hide. It must have some magic to it. Now tell me what it is.”

 

He spread his hands wide. “I swear on my honor, there is no magic in my lance that I know of.” He met her gaze, unblinking. “Although I will tell you that a sturdy lance held by a skilled knight on a strong horse can work wonders.”

 

She felt her mind dig in, unable to accept this. “We are children of—”

 

“But,” Nestor countered, “You are not your father. Yes, his scales may be mighty and impenetrable, but your sister’s are not.” He took another sip of his drink. “And neither are yours.”

 

Aurelia felt a bit of trepidation rise again within her. She thought on what he said, and what the guard captain had said, and it brought her no comfort. “What is a knight?” she asked quietly.

 

“Hmm?” Nestor cupped a hand around his ear.

 

Louder, she repeated, “What is a knight?”

 

He took another sip. “That is both very complicated and very simple. Knights are warriors, trained from a young age for one purpose. We fight for those who cannot.” He shrugged. “Of course, many call themselves a knight, but have more in common with a bandit. So defining who is and is not a knight by who their parents were or what lands they own is difficult. I like to think that ‘knight’ has a simple definition: one who defends the innocent.” He smiled at her. “Which, in a way, makes you a knight, after what you did.”

 

Aurelia spluttered and choked out a strangled mess of a response. “I—no, that’s…”

 

Nestor held up a hand and silenced her, a fact that only struck her much later. “Deny it if you want,” he said, “But I think you’re fond of this town.” He drained his mug.

 

She glowered at him. This conversation was not going at all how she envisioned it, and she wanted out as quickly as possible. “Well,” she said, “I suppose that is one way of looking at things.” She turned and spread her wings to leave. “Rest well, sir knight. I will return tomorrow to see how you are healing.”

 

“Of course,” Nestor said, “I would welcome it.”

 

She took a step away. “We still have business to attend to.”

 

“I am well aware,” he assured her.

 

Aurelia snorted and took to the air. What a befuddling, confusing, aggravating man.

“Knights,” she cursed under her breath.

​

She retired to her lair to think about all Nestor had said. However, her contemplation was short-lived. She heard armored boots approaching and turned. One of the town guards stood at the door. “What?” she demanded.

 

“Your magnificence,” he said, “An army has just appeared in the forest outside of town.”

​

"Any knights with them?" she asked drily.