“This is my dragon,” said the Tulanian king. “You are not allowed to steal my dragon.” “I didn’t steal it, the creature took – Wait, how did you get here? Can you fly?” He laughed at that. “Is the mighty empire of Ardunia really so poor in magic that these small tricks impress you?” “Yes,” she said, blinking. Then, “What is your name?” “Of all the non sequiturs. Why do you need to know my name?” “So that I may hate you more informally.” “Ah. Well, in that case, you may call me Cyrus.” “Cyrus,” she said. “You insufferable monster. Where on earth are we going?”
