MIR, the sentient Wyvern.

Food pantry

That morning I was introduced to the whole guard and they looked for a pourpoint to put on top of a suit of armor so that I would have a student uniform.

My siblings were excited and joyful.

I had hammered into their heads that school was a luxury reserved for nobles, lords and elites.

Moreover, for security, the wyverns were given a minor submission collar. That is to say that it prevents from attacking or biting by accident or sudden anger, that was all.

I was exempted from it but I had one arguing that it was part of the costume.

Romas appreciated it. After all I was here to learn, not to fight.

After the introductions and my materials consisting of a notebook and a slate as well as a sponge in a wet vial and a ruler.

The others didn't need them yet. They had to learn to count and recognize letters first.

Kratos questioned me for an hour in the evening.

"What's all this about escorting?"

"Kratos... when you get paid for your work... what do you think you're getting??? Not everyone has cakes or booze on them!... They have gold.

And gold, it's almost the God of dragons. "

"You interest me, Mir"

"You're going to give all your gold for a wafer?"

The wyvern looked distraught... stuck..

"Don't hurt your head... the answer is no... Yet everyone loves gold. Dragons as well as humans, elves and dwarves... EVERYBODY wants GOLD."

Because gold means: POWER, WEALTH, COMFORT, LUXURY and SURVIVAL

So that others don't steal from you by trickery, you must know how to COUNT"

"But if I get robbed, I'll crush it and eat it piece by piece".

"That's just it, you'll never do that. NEVER!!! if you get robbed... it's your fault... a lack of judgment! You're not going to tell me that you...a DRAGON has a brain inferior to these bipeds?"

Krator let out a small animal scream...

"Krator?? no... I said gently... no... you don't have to be afraid... You are smart... But you will make a brave and strong warrior... not everyone, I mean not all wyverns know how to be as strong as you... "

"Me, my strength is in my head. I learn, I retain and I come up with ideas and solutions... but I will never be like you, even if I have your size... But to be a mercenary, you have to know how to count, understand the clients' requests, join a guild that will pay you. It's not the customer who pays you but the guild..."

"But why, Mir? Why isn't it simple?"

"You already know what is simple and what is complicated... that is a big step forward... You are getting stronger too, Krator... But let's take an example.

A rich man who looks friendly asks for your protection.

You fight, and you are wounded, your wing torn.

When you arrive at your destination, you are crying in pain and unable to fly.

Do you follow me?"

"Yes, Mir"

Kri, Kra and Kroa were following my story

"Well, you've arrived and you're bleeding... what are you doing? And I'm not here! Doc is far away..."

Krator: "I ask that he pays me and heals me".

"Ok.. You ask him to heal you... The nobleman calls a healer for nobles .... And the healer asks you for 10 gold coins to sew your wing. What do you do then?"

Krator: "I ask him to pay!"

The nobleman refuses and says: "The contract stipulated: 2 gold pieces at the departure and 2 at the arrival including food and drinks... You had a big stomach and he categorically refuses to pay more... what are you doing?"

Krator: "I... I threaten him?"

"And then what... he calls his army, slaughters you and at best turns you into a slave and mount... and might attack the tribe... There are 15 of you and 10,500 soldiers. 700 spears per dragon. One well placed is enough to kill you..."

Kratos, of his great size, still had the spirit of a child and began to cry.

"No. Kratos... listen..." This is the solution.

"You're hurt... so you go to the mercenary guild and get treated for free. Then you get paid. Of course, you'll get a little less than with a direct client. The guild has to live and exist and also pay the healer. By pooling everything together, it's cheaper per person, you know?"

Kratos: "With you, Mir, everything looks easy but it's not easy.."

I hugged my uncle. You'll see... it's okay... it's only the first day...

We ate our rations and fed the fire and found where the cold drafts were coming from and it was immediately more comfortable.

So I found a secret passage...

Krato saw the hole with a staircase behind the hearth and it went up...directly...to the kitchen.!!!

"Sausages, pies and wine... STAND AT ATTENTION!"

we could smell the scent now that we had opened the wall and it was irresistible.

But I had a plan.

Kri and Kra snuck in, being smaller, and arrived in the double bottom of a bread cabinet.

They stuck out their long necks to look left and right, but the activity was in the other room where the ovens were.

The door was closed.

It was a kind of shed, a pantry.

They came across a pot covered with a cloth holding a wooden lid and...inside...honey...HONEY!!!!

Quickly, they took it and closed the cupboard.

Krator and I got the saliva flowing and we shared this extra to cover the meat and explode the flavors.

Krator licked and flexed the pot with his big serpentine tongue and my two accomplices went to put the pot back where they had discovered it.

"No more stealing!! okay..? This is wrong!!"

"Is it true??? It's funny when a human gets angry...the skin turns red!!.and when he's afraid, the color turns to green, sometimes to yellow and they pee!!!"

I chuckled to hear this nonsense... But coming from my sisters... I found it particularly charming...

The evening ended by sleeping all covered by Krator.

Then he woke up in the middle of the night...

"MIR... what about the stuff with the flags???"

"MMH??? huh??? "I opened my eyes painfully and Krator shoved me, all panicked.

"Krator... get some sleep... tomorrow... long day..."

"I don't understand anything! Help me..and why do I have a flag on me?"

"Mir..!! "

"Mir???"

Kri woke up and started to cry...

"I'm afraid of flags!"

Kra: "What is a flag?"

Kroa: "Can you eat it?"

ROAARRR!!! "I WANT TO SLEEP... !"

The ruckus woke up Romas who arrived but we had already fallen back asleep.

But in the dark, Kratos' eyes reflected the fire and stared at Romas. It was a wyvern look.