I Will Be the Greatest Knight

It took hours for Siverly to pull himself together.

When his head was feeling clearer, he reached into one of his hidden pockets and found a small mana stone more compatible with his own type based on the way the internal light swirled towards him rather than away.

He gripped it tightly and drew out the mana until it cracked in his hands, becoming as brittle as glass. A few shards were stuck in his soft palm, and he used purifying magic to clean up the bleeding cuts before healing them completely.

"Stings," he hissed to himself before they were fully healed.

All this trouble just for them to say that he couldn't see the only person who likely had the answers to the situation in both Idona and Polona. He sighed in resignation and adjusted his robes so that he could leave.

By the time he made it out of the pit where his mana was tested, he saw that the sun had completely disappeared over the horizon. He imagined the knights hadn't worried about him at all, considering he told them nothing of what would happen when he was there.

With the letter in his hands, he slowly walked back down the long stone pathway that led him through the center of town. As before, he knew people were watching him and hiding when he walked beside their shops or homes.

Once the mage had balanced himself and sat down in the boat so that he could make his escape, he decided to light up his mana and read what was enclosed in the letter. They didn't tell him specifically not to, and he was curious if his grandfather would be kind or cruel to the knights. Mages, as usual, didn't always care to follow the hierarchy of the kingdom.

"Duke," the letter began.

"Off to a bad start," the mage uttered.

"The elder mages have been informed of your visit and will convene in the meantime while we decide how to approach this situation. We will arrive in the morning for a discussion and to assess the magical beast you have brought with you."

"Ominous," he uttered again before rolling up the letter.

After that, Siverly dropped the mana that was lighting his hand, no longer needing to be able to see. He then lay on the floor of the boat with his head resting on one of the benches. As he looked at the sky, he mused over his present state.

He was feeling particularly exhausted. It had been a while since he did something to deplete his mana. Even though he had consumed the mana of a stone, he had quite the mana pool to fill. To fully restore himself, he would need a meal and a long sleep, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to obtain either one of those things, considering how traveling there had gone.

All the information he read about dragons as a child was nothing compared to witnessing one each day. While they were terrifying creatures because of what they were capable of, he wasn't expecting the dragon to also be a hopeless fiend for the Duke's attention.

He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy because he was still having to use his mana to propel the boat forward.

Realizing Siverly ought to pay attention to where he was going, he sat up and clutched the letter. He had to redirect the boat a bit, but he was better off with his directions than he thought.

Once more, his boat grounded itself on the shore, and he hesitantly stepped out onto the rocks and mud, hoping not to fall, considering how unstable his legs felt underneath him.

To his surprise, a few of the knights were still awake and rushed forward to greet him. They had stayed awake to wait for his arrival.

He felt strangely warm at the concern on their faces, but it was mostly embarrassing, and he pulled his robes tightly over his body.

"A letter for you, Your Grace," he told Henry as he walked past the large man.

He desired to be near the fire. Depleting his mana made him feel even colder than usual. He might even consider using a fire mana stone at some point in the night, but he was hesitant to waste more than what he had used already on the Idonian mage, who was also depleted.

"Siverly, sit here," Irene directed in a quiet voice as she also settled by the fire where her blankets had been placed. "We have stew left. It's mostly lentils and carrots, but Sven seasoned it quite well."

Again, they were making him feel uncomfortable by being so concerned over him, yet he wasn't idiotic enough to deny a meal, considering he was in bad shape but wouldn't tell the others about it.

He muttered his thanks and settled down by the fire once a wooden bowl was in his grasp. Surprisingly, the meal the knights had come up with wasn't bad, or he was rather hungry—he wasn't sure what the truth was.

Soon, the Commander joined them after reading the very brief and straightforward letter. He settled on top of his own blanket roll that had been laid out in the grass. He hadn't known before then that Irene was still awake. He couldn't help wondering if she had purposefully avoided letting him know that he wasn't the only one awake and waiting for the mage.

Would he ever be able to address it without making her uncomfortable?

"What was the general response to bringing a dragon to their doorstep?" the young Duke wondered.

"They're certainly not pleased that you're a knight," the mage muttered between bites. "They're insistent that something is amiss."

The Commander let out a short laugh and shrugged it off. It was time to settle down. No use in agonizing over others' words when he needed to get some rest.

Irene couldn't keep from staring at the Commander as he settled down, facing away so he was sure not to see her. It bothered her that he always laughed off such disrespect. He should demand respect from those around him, but he never seemed to let it get to him.

She was feeling a similar urge that had struck her when she heard Maximus's mother referring to the Commander by his name. If he wouldn't defend himself then she wanted to be the one to defend him.

When Siverly was settled in his own blankets and already dozing off, Irene pushed her hands into her face and willed herself to calm down. What the Commander did or did not demand from others shouldn't bother her as much as it did.

She couldn't wait to return to the Duke's Tower and not have to spend nearly every waking moment with the man. It would be much easier to make herself scarce when she could burden herself with night watch while the Commander was practically required to stay up during the day.

Then she would remember what it was like to behave herself and not be so unwittingly desperate to be noticed by someone else. It was like an urge more than it was intentional.

Before Irene could sleep, Sylaron left once and stirred the entire camp.

However, once she returned, she settled for long enough that Irene fell into a deep sleep, which is what she had been needing badly during their journey.

That was also why, the next time Irene woke up, she felt unbelievably groggy and confused about what was happening.

There was shuffling, but it wasn't like Sylaron's usual sounds.

However, she heard the shink of someone's weapon being unsheathed and she was more alert and on her feet, pulling out her own sword as she wondered what was happening in the darkness of night, the color of a sunrise barely kissing the horizon and showing just how early it was.

"Who goes there?" the Commander demanded.

Irene wasn't the only one who had stood up at the Commander's rustling around.

The entire travel party was met with a line of mages wearing brown robes and hoods that covered much of their faces.

Their hands were lit up by mana in a variety of colors.

Perhaps the strangest part was that the mana on their hands connected to chains and ropes that held the dragon to the ground as if they were going to capture the beast.