Kaelen went on and on about nonsense Jason could care less about.

The reptile’s voice boomed across the table, rattling the mugs with every word. He talked about a hunt in the eastern marshes where he had wrestled a giant serpent with his bare hands. He talked about a bounty in the northern highlands where he had to dig through a mountain of corpses to find a single golden tooth. He talked about a drinking contest with a troll that lasted three days and ended with the troll vomiting so hard it passed out.

Jason nodded along, sipping his drink, his face locked in an expression of polite interest.

He was smart enough to know he couldn’t complain. Complaining would do nothing for him. He had to focus on getting out of this situation with as little drama as possible. Kaelen was huge, dangerous, and clearly had the emotional intelligence of a brick. One wrong word and those yellow eyes would turn cold again.

"So then I says to the troll," Kaelen rumbled, slamming his fist on the table, "’You call that a punch? My grandmother hits harder, and she’s been dead for fifty years!’"

Mira the catborn rolled her eyes, her tail flicking lazily. Helga snorted into her mug.

Jason forced a laugh. "That’s hilarious. Really. A dead grandmother. Classic."

Kaelen beamed, his scarred snout wrinkling with pride. "You get it, little meat. Most people just stare at me like I’m crazy."

"Not me," Jason said quickly. "I appreciate good storytelling."

Thalion, from the corner table, watched with wide eyes. Ylva had finally turned around, her ears twitching at every ridiculous word.

Then Kaelen leaned in closer, his voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial.

"But the best hunt," he said, "the one that got away... that was the Crimson Depths dungeon. Three years ago. Deep underground, past the lava rivers and the fire bats. At the very bottom, there was an egg."

Jason’s attention snapped into focus.

"An egg?" he asked.

Kaelen nodded, his yellow eyes gleaming. "A massive one. Bigger than my head. Scales like molten gold, glowing faintly in the dark. The guild masters said whoever slays the boss and claims the egg could raise whatever hatches from it. A legendary creature, they said. Maybe a dragon. Maybe something older."

Jason’s mind raced. All that came to his mind was Game of Thrones. The scene where Daenerys stepped out of the flames with three small dragons wrapped around her. The look of power. The awe.

"And?" Jason pressed. "Did anyone get it?"

Kaelen’s expression darkened. "The boss was... wrong. Twisted. We lost twelve people before we even reached the egg chamber. I barely escaped with my scales. The dungeon sealed itself behind me."

Mira’s ears flattened. "We don’t talk about that run."

Helga grunted. "Bad business."

Jason’s heart pounded. An egg. A dragon, maybe. In a world like this, that kind of power was everything.

"So the egg is still down there?" Jason asked casually, taking a sip of his drink.

Kaelen shrugged. "Far as I know. But no one’s stupid enough to try again."

Jason smiled. "Yeah. Totally stupid."

He filed that information away for later as he knew he wanted to acquire whatever egg this was.

-

Tauriel stood naked in her private chamber, the damp towel clutched loosely in her hand. Water still clung to her pale skin, tracing slow paths down her thighs, her stomach, the curve of her breasts. Droplets pooled at her feet on the cold stone floor. She had just finished bathing—rose-scented oils, heated water brought up from the thermal springs below the palace—but her mind was elsewhere.

She tossed the towel onto a marble bench. It landed with a soft, wet slap.

She allowed Thalion to escape.

It had been calculated. Every broken bone, every flayed strip of skin, every moment of suffering she had inflicted on that elf over the centuries—all of it was nothing compared to the use she could get from him now. Thalion was a tool. A broken, pathetic tool, but still useful. A pair of eyes she could slip inside Jason’s camp without him ever knowing.

Her lips curled into a cold smile as she pressed her bare palm against the cool stone wall. A shimmering image flickered to life: fuzzy at first, like ripples on a pond, then sharpening into focus.

Through Thalion’s eyes, she saw the tavern. The scratched wooden tables. The flickering lanterns. She saw Jason laughing with that massive reptile, Kaelen, mugs clinking together. She saw Ylva sitting in the corner, her ears flat with annoyance, her claws tapping against her empty bowl.

"Perfect," Tauriel whispered, her breath fogging the stone.

A knock came at the heavy wooden door behind her.

"My lady?" a servant’s voice called out, muffled through the oak. "The guards report no sign of the fugitives. The city patrols have searched every district."

Tauriel didn’t turn. Her eyes stayed locked on the image of Jason ordering another drink. "They won’t find them," she said, her voice calm, almost bored. "I let them go."

Silence. Then, hesitantly: "But... why, my lady? The imposter defiled you. He lied about his bloodline. He—"

"He is more valuable alive than dead," Tauriel interrupted, glancing over her shoulder. Her sharp features caught the dim candlelight, casting half her face in shadow. "And I want to know what he becomes. What he’s capable of."

The servant didn’t respond.

Tauriel’s smile widened. "You wonder how I will watch him, don’t you? Have you never questioned the mark on Thalion’s neck?"

"The death mark, my lady?"

"Among other things." She turned back to the wall, her fingers tracing the outline of Jason’s face in the shimmering image.

"The mark allows me to monitor him. To watch through his eyes. Everything he sees, I see. Every word he hears, I hear. He has no idea what is happening. He was unconscious when I placed it. When I branded him,"

She laughed softly—a low, sultry sound that echoed off the stone walls.

The mark was unique, Jason and co were able to see it because it still had the bruise of a wound but it had been healed by Thalion.

And those afflicted by it were oblivious toits effects.

"He thinks he escaped. That pathetic, broken elf thinks he found freedom." Her laugh turned bitter. "Fool. They are both fools."

Later, her vision would be revealed to her inner circle. She would gather her most trusted commanders, show them the images, and explain her plan. But for now, she watched alone. Drinking in every detail. Every move Jason made.

The servant cleared her throat. "And the queen, my lady? If she returns... if she discovers what you’ve done..."

Tauriel’s face hardened. Her hand dropped from the wall.

"The queen hasn’t been seen for over twenty years," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"That is how the story goes. That is what we tell the lower ranks. But the truth?" She turned fully now, her naked body bathed in the pale glow of the magical image. "No one knows if she’s still dead or alive. No one knows what happened to her. She vanished. Disappeared. And in her absence, I have built this sanctuary. I have bred the mages. I have ruled." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

She stepped toward the door, her bare feet silent on the cold stone.

"So until she reappears—if she ever reappears—I am the power here. Do you understand?"

The servant bowed deeply. "Yes, my lady. Forgive my impertinence."

Tauriel waved a dismissive hand. "Leave me. I have eyes everywhere, and I wish to watch my prey in peace."

The servant scurried away. The door closed with a heavy thud.

Tauriel returned to the wall, her fingers finding the image again. Jason was laughing now, slapping Kaelen on the back like they were old friends.

"Enjoy your freedom, imposter," she murmured, her smile cold and sharp. "It won’t last."