YCH from the talented  biggoodwolf!

---

As he often did, Arix awoke screaming.

Though the images in his dreams quickly faded from memory, the slicing pain lingered, crossing from his dreams into the waking world. It was a pain all too familiar to the young dragon, though its familiarity didn't help to ease it, only to allow him to more quickly grow accustomed to it upon being torn from slumber. He was no longer on his meagre bed, nor even in the chamber he shared with the other captives, but instead found himself on his knees, on the cold stone ground of the extensive dungeons beneath the baron's palace. Several servants in a similar miserable situation were already busy at work under the slavemaster's lash, each of them with a crackling line of some magical energy connecting them to the bracer around the master's arm. The same energy crackled around Arix's shoulder, biting into his red scales. It led to the bracer worn by the slavemaster - a tall, grey-furred wolf who stood upon a ledge above, where he could foresee the work of the slaves. One claw clutched a translucent crystal, half as large as the wolf's head. The slavemaster had brought it into the dungeon every time Arix was called here, but nothing had been done with it yet. The other arm bore the bracer, shimmering silver and with countless tethers of magical energy leading from it to all corners of the room.

"Drake!" the slavemaster barked. Arix barely had time to gather his senses before some metal tool thrown by the man clattered on the stone beside him. "There's a vein of mareseye ore by the window. At it!"
Arix had been through this routine enough times to know better than to delay needlessly. He grabbed the handle of the tool - now recognising it as an ore pick - and opened his wings, leaping into the air towards the window the slavemaster had indicated.

The other slaves working away in the dungeon had barely noticed his arrival. Not that he could blame them. Such a process had long since become routine. Even Arix himself barely noticed when other captives arrived with the same crackling of energy from the master's bracer, usually with the same screams. He landed on a ledge by the window the master had indicated. The faint light streaming through told him that it was either dawn or dusk - the exact passage of time quickly lost meaning when he could be pulled from his dreams at any moment of any day. The bars of the window still had not been repaired from the day he had attempted to escape through them, an attempt that had been quickly cut short by the energy leash that bound him to this place and its master. It had been the first and last time he had made any such attempt, though he had not entirely lost hope that a way out still shone somewhere, in some dusty hall of the palace.

For now, he pushed his way in between the other slaves - a human here, an elf there, the occasional centaur or goblin. Beside him toiled a young wolfling, swinging his own pick at the ore vein, trying to work the treasure from within free. Connor was a slight creature, barely reaching Arix's shoulder. Judging by the amount of dust matted in his brown fur he had already been here a while, though there was barely a crack in the vein he was working away at. He looked up at Arix as the dragon pushed through, pick ready in his claws. He quickly averted his eyes when Arix looked back down at him and growled.
"S-sorry," the wolfling mumbled as he took another half-hearted swing. The head of the pick struck the vein and more shards of rock tumbled from it, though no mareseye yet. Growling in frustration, Arix raised his pick above his head. Connor quickly pulled away from the vein as the dragon's pick came crashing down upon it. Connor only stood back and watched Arix smash away at the rock, the crack widening with every blow until the white glow of mareseye revealed itself. Arix wedged the head of the pick into the crack, and with a roar, pushed on it like a lever. The weakened stone fell away, exposing the precious stone beneath.

"Um, thanks..."Connor said as he raised his pick again. His eyes briefly met Arix's, but he could not hold the dragon's gaze for long. He held his pick higher above his head in imitation of the way Arix had done, then howled in pain, the pick clattering to the ground behind him. The leash binding him to the master's bracer crackled and buzzed with heightened energy, sending the young wolfling into pained fits.
"Work your own station!" the master yelled, finally lowering the bracer. "We need as much of this place cleared out as we can before the baron gets here!"
The poor creature whimpered pathetically at Arix's feet. "S-sorry!" he whined.

Arix almost offered a claw to help Connor stand, but then looked back at the master. Although hardly the gentlest of creatures on the best of days, he seemed particularly unforgiving today. His menacing glare was fixed intently on Connor. Arix just turned away and continued to smash at the rock. Most likely, if he offered to help, the master would simply shock them both. Better to leave Connor to get back on his own.
"You're not strong enough to break the harder stone," Arix said as the wolfling was finally able to stand. "Look for the lighter-coloured rock. It's weaker."
Connor's reply was muffled by the sound of countless picks striking the stone walls of the dungeon.

The captives kept up their work tirelessly, the sound of their picks only broken by the orders barked by the slavemaster. Arix, the only winged creature in the bunch, was often called back and forth around the cavernous chamber, ferrying loads of loosed mareseye to the master, breaking up harder stone where he could find it, and distributing new picks to replace damaged ones. He dropped a blunted pick by the entrance to the dungeon and took two new ones from the ever-decreasing pile. He flew up and dropped one of them in front of an older elf girl, then landed beside her to start work on the wall she was chipping away at.
Were it not for the magical leash binding her to the slavemaster, Lenora would have looked right at home in this desolate place. She had the pale skin and bald head of a cavern elf, and barely even blinked when flecks of rock and dust flicked at her face. She was taller than Arix, though not as broad-shouldered, and her eyes a solid golden colour which he could have sworn glittered like the mineral itself.
"A little help here, Arix," Lenora said as she struck away at the stone wall. "I think I'm nearly through."
"Through to where?" he said, but took up a place beside her anyway. The two of them begun to alternate strikes against the solid stone.
"You don't feel the magic on the other side?" She smiled, though kept her focus upon the wall. Each strike of her pick hit the exact same spot. "I thought sensing enchantment was one of those common dragon magics."
Arix growled. His pick landed heavier, stronger, but with not nearly the accuracy of the cavern elf. "Hard to sense anything through solid stone."
"There's..."

Lenora stumbled forward as her pick burst clean through the slate, opening a small window to the chamber beyond. She quickly regained her footing and stepped away. The chamber glowed with the same white light as the mareseye ore, though with far greater intensity; it took some moments for Arix's eyes to adjust well enough to actually look inside and see a hollow filled with perfectly-formed white crystal.
"Ha, you sense it now?" Lenora grinned. She dropped her pick. "Master!"
The two of them looked up to the high ledge where the slavemaster waited, and waved him towards them. The master jumped down, gliding along the magical leash that connected them to him like a zipline, and landed down beside them. He stepped forward, pushed them aside, and looked in the hole.
"This will be perfect," he said, a crooked grin spreading over his muzzle. He stepped away and thrust the clear crystal into Arix's claws. "Siphon the magic into this. As much as you can fit."

Arix's heart skipped a beat, and he faltered. Up to now, he had avoided being commanded to perform any magical task. But now, with the empty crystal in his claws and the master's gaze squarely upon him, his mind raced. His eyes flicked to the bracer upon the wolf's arm. Blue energy crackled around it, the magical tether faintly glowing between the bracer and Arix's shoulder.
"I can't," he said.
The master growled. "What do you mean you can't?"
"I'm...exhausted. Enchanting, siphoning, it - it takes a lot of energy. After flying all over this place..."
"You're barely panting." The wolf raised his bracer.
"I know some enchanting spells," Lenora said. "Pass me the crystal, I can..."
"I asked the drake." His eyes did not waver from Arix, and his voice was thick with finality. "Unless you want me to tear off your wings and throw you to the serpents, you will-"

"I see you have made good progress," a new voice came. It was deep, powerful, and spoke with authority enough to cause the slaves to immediately halt their work. All eyes lifted to the figure who had entered the room. A broad-shouldered, black-hided minotaur stepped down from the entry, his head adorned by a resplendant golden coronet, inlaid with rubies and little round lumps of silver. His horns curled around the coronet, setting it perfectly in place as though he had been born with the crown already upon his head. Unlike the slavemaster, who wore only an old and lightly tattered pair of pants in the dusty dungeon, the baron had entered in his full finery - flowing silken cape and all. The minotaur was built as strong as an accomplished warrior, though his skin bore no scars or wounds of battle.

The baron glanced in Arix's direction, and the dragon immediately bowed his head and shuffled back. Lenora didn't need even that much command, as she retrieved her pick from the ground and walked off alongside him. Together, they descended from the ledge, away from the small window that had been made in the wall, and continued their work on the ground.
"You should have just done it," Lenora grunted as her pick struck stone. "Don't think 'tearing your wings off' is just an empty threat."
"If he wanted me to perform a spell that big, he shouldn't have had me running all over this place."
"Enchanting isn't that hard."
"Well...dragon magic works differently from what you use!" Arix growled and pummelled away at the stone.
"It does not. I might not have had a lot of training before I came here, but this is basic stuff, Arix." She turned to look him in the eye. He glanced at her briefly, then back to the stone. Focusing on the one point, smashing at it with all his might. "Why won't you do it?"

"No more excuses!" The baron's voice came bellowing from the ledge above, and though neither Arix nor Lenora could see anything, there was a heavy thud and a pained grunt. "You've spent long enough in here, you won't delay any longer just to swell your own pride!" The baron appeared once more, descending back down to the slaves' level. Both of them very purposefully averted their eyes, focusing on the stone wall they battered away with their picks. "You there, elf girl!" Not waiting for a response, he grabbed at her wrist, forcing her to drop the pick. "Up there, now. And you, drake! Give her that crystal!"
Neither captive delayed for a moment. Arix tossed the crystal back to Lenora, who caught it and ran up to the ledge. The baron was already storming out of the cavern. The slaves kept working.

From his place at the bottom of the ledge, Arix couldn't see what was happening above, save for a faint glow. After a brief moment, the slavemaster descended the ledge, glowering at him. He raised the bracer, the energy coursing through it turning a fiery red. Some slaves halted their work, their picks growing silent, replaced with the growing sound of a horrid electric whine.
"You're lucky you're too valuable to kill, drake," the master said. Red energy danced along the bracer's surface, entwining into the energy leash connecting it to Arix's shoulder. "But you need to learn to obey!"
As the sound of the crackle and whine grew, Arix stepped back. The leash of magical lightning darkened. There was no running. No hiding. Gritting his teeth, Arix leapt at the master, his claws reaching out to the bracer.

Then he was wreathed in the red energy, and the cavern was filled with a thunderous boom, and the dragon's screams.

---

Lenora supported Arix on her shoulder as they, together with Connor, made their way back to their chambers. Connor dashed ahead and opened the solid oaken door for the two.
"I'm not invalid," Arix growled. Connor looked down and flattened his ears, and Lenora shot Arix a sideways glance. Feeling a pang of guilt, Arix looked away, into the chamber beyond. "...sorry I got you in trouble."
"I-it's okay," Connor said as he flattened himself against the wall as best he could to let the pair through. Once they were through the door, Arix wrested himself free of Lenora's support. Pain still shot through his body, mostly in his chest in ribs, and though he tried to hide it, he couldn't help but stumble towards his meager straw bed. He trembled as he supported himself against the wooden frame.

Lenora shook her head as she took to her own bed. "You should have just done it," she said. "That damn pride will be the death of you some day."
"You heard him," Arix said. "I'm too important to kill." He laughed, more morbid than mirthful.
"I believe the word was 'useful'." Lenora laid upon her back, looking through the small window in the roof that was their only view of the outside. "If you ever stop being useful..."
"Why didn't you, anyway?" Connor asked as he climbed into his own bed. "You didn't look that tired. I mean," he added hastily, "you're too strong for that. Right?"
Arix paused, turning his gaze to the window. "We don't know what the baron wants with that magic," he said. "Probably something really evil. I'll be damned if I'm going to help him do it."
"We're already helping him do it, Arix," Lenora said. "Why do you think we're mining all that mareseye? He's got to do something with it, beside looking at it."
"I don't...using magic is just too far!"
"I think dragon magic is kind of...sacred," Connor said. "They're kind of serious about how they use it. Right?" He looked at Arix for approval. "Maybe that's wrong..."
Arix looked back to him and smiled, genuine and warm. He silently thanked the wolfling's intrusion. "No, you're right! Dragon magic is...it's such a gift. Even when I was young, I knew how special it was. Some think it's nothing, take it for granted. Not me." He stared at the stars out the window. Most continued to twinkle meaninglessly. "I wouldn't shame the Divine Beasts like that."

As if in response to his words, the small cluster of stars drifted apart, making way for a much larger one to glow between them. It shined far brighter than the normal stars in the sky, and often pulsed with blue light, a strong glow radiating out from its center. It drifted often, but always returned to its place between the other stars. All the slaves had seen this before. The star visited them every night - at least, every night they were able to see it. The first time, Connor had insisted it was one of the Divine Beasts, watching them. None of the others denied it.

Lenora paused at that. "I never took you for a particularly spiritual guy," she said. "I always thought if you met a Beast, you'd punch it right between the eyes."
"And don't think I wouldn't!" Arix said. The three of them leaned back in their beds, laughing together. Arix pointed a claw at the blinking star, like a knight might point a sword at a challenger. "Come on, Beast!" he said. "Come down here and show us how Divine you are!"
By the end of it, the mirth had all but left his voice, and he glared at the star with the same sort of eye he had glared at the slavemaster with. He growled, deep and low, almost as though he actually expected a godly beast to charge down from the sky to meet him.

Silence hung thick in the air. The other slaves watched Arix closely, unblinking. Whether they were afraid of him or merely thought him mad, he didn't care. He only stared that large, pulsing star. The stars would blink before he did.

Connor cleared his throat with a cough, breaking the silence, and Arix finally lowered his claw. "So...so, which one do you think it is?" he said.
That one up there?" Lenora shrugged. "Probably just the Serpent being curious. He's like that."
"What is there to be curious about?" Arix asked nobody in particular.
Lenora looked back at him. "So what about you? What do you think?"
"I don't know. The Bull? Maybe just the Shark waiting for something to feed on."
"I think it's the Mare," Connor said. "Making sure we're safe."
"Safe?" The word caught Arix off guard, and he turned to look Connor in the eye, furrowing his brow. The wolfling looked back at the star, then to the floor.
"Well, yeah," he said, though he couldn't look the dragon in the eye as he said it. "I mean, probably not. But it could be worse, right?"
"He has a point," Lenora said. "You could have died today, Arix. Maybe the Mare is protecting you."

Arix rose to his feet and growled. "Maybe I should thank her!" he said. "For making me be born broken? For keeping me a slave to the baron? Oh thank you, Divine Mare! You are truly a kind and benevolent beast!" By now he was pacing the scant room, his tail lashing restlessly. "If this is what a Divine Beast calls protection, then I don't want her protecting me!"
He found himself in front of the door leading to the hall outside. "No one is protecting us," he said, his hand now resting upon the doorknob. His tail hung still. "We can't rely on someone else. No gods. No kings. Only freedom." His voice was low now, so low that he was unsure if the others even heard him. Not that it mattered. He was barely speaking to them now.

"...Arix?" Connor said, half-rising.
The dragon did not turn to face him. "You didn't see me go, okay?" he said. "You were already asleep." He opened the door. "You might have heard something, but you thought it was just a rat."

Neither of them said anything else before Arix had slipped through the door and closed it behind him.

---

Arix didn't know what his plan was, after ducking into the palace hallways. He didn't evenknow if he had much of a plan beyond doing something, anything to prove his worth to the other captives. If he could only give them something to believe in, something more than the reality of being torn screaming from the few moments of respite that slumber granted them. Something more tangible, more real than the vague hope for the protection of some callous, disinterested Divine Beast. Divine or not, that's all they were - beasts. Caring for nothing beyond their own next meal, most likely. But the captives could believe in him. Then they would believe in themselves. Only that faith that they could escape would give them a chance to do exactly that.

But how to give them that faith?

Footsteps approached, but Arix couldn't tell which direction they were coming from. In the maze of halls, the sounds echoed from every which way. He stopped in his tracks. Holding his breath, he ducked behind a pillar into an alcove in the wall. It was dark here, even compared to the scant light in the hallway. Hung upon the marbled wall was a painting of the baron. The dark minotaur stood atop a dais in a majestic looking city, the buildings around him vague shapes of gold. Before him was a teeming mass of people of all races, and though their faces were simple and stylised, they all reached their hands out to the baron. His eyes were soft, a warm smile was upon his face. With one hand, he reached out to give a few gold coins to the people, and with the other, a horn overflowing with fresh-looking food. It took all of Arix's willpower not to rip the picture off the wall and smash it into the ground.

The footsteps drew nearer, and nearer still. Arix scanned the small recess for anything he may be able to use as a weapon. It may have been satisfying to break the paiting over the head of some guard, but too unwieldy. The footsteps grew heavier, sounding now like they should have been right beside him, but still nobody was there. He balled one hand into a fist, grabbed a torch off the wall with the other, and waited with bated breath. Heavier now. The guard's shadow crept over the ground in front of him, stretched out further, looming in the faint light. Arix gripped the torch tight, ready to jump out and smash the flaming club into the guard's face. But then he saw the guard, and his nerve left him.

A minotaur, a giant hulk of a beast, rounded the corner. He must have stood at least two heads over Arix, even hunched over as he was. Two wicked horns curved from his head like jagged spearheads, far thicker and rougher than Arix's comparative nubs. Each horn was capped with a metal spike, gleaming in the faint torchlight. The minotaur wore a dented and scratched breastplate, though his thick arms were bare, revealing scarred-over hide. He carried a halberd in one hand and a torch in the other, with a ring of keys hanging from his belt. Suddenly, the urge to jump out and attack had all but left Arix, leaving him feeling only drained. He looked down at the pathetic torch he carried. As if it would have left a mark on that brute.

Arix had seen the palace guards a few times before. Thinking on it, there was nothing remarkable about this one. Hulking brutes the lot of them, usually carrying heavy polearms, most of them being somewhat versed in magic. But seeing one so close, when he shouldn't have been here, not knowing what might be done if he had gotten caught? It was a new thing entirely.

Thankfully, Arix was able to remain still and silent enough in the alcove, and the guard's helm must have obscured his vision, as the minotaur passed by without so much as a second glance. Only once the tremendous footsteps faded into the distance did Arix allow himself to breathe once more.
"Useless," he muttered, looking at the torch in his hand. What happened to the bravado from earlier in the day? What happened to the strong dragon who had refused to back down from his master, even in the face of that horrible thunder lash? Gone, replaced by that little, broken hatchling once more. A mewling coward.

No. No, he wasn't a coward. He was only being practical. Attacking the guard with nothing but a bare fist and a falming stick wouldn't have led anywhere. There was no cowardice in common sense. But more guards would come, and not all of them would be as blind as this one. He needed a proper weapon. That was all he needed. It didn't need to be anything special. Just something strong and sharp. He ran down the hall. There was an armoury somewhere around one of these halls. He took a few careful steps in the direction the guard had left, breathing slowly and steadily. His steps were light, and surely they would be further obscured by the clanking of the guard's own armour. A terrible idea it may have been, but if it paid off, the next step would be far easier.

Keeping to the shadows of the alcoves, Arix ran off as fast as he dared, until once more the hulking guard was in sight. He pressed himself up against the wall and slunk around the corner. The guard's back was still to him, and the heavy clunking of armour covered the light sound of the dragon's footsteps. He noted a torch on the wall, similar to the one he held. He grabbed it down, snuck closer to the guard, and darted around the corner, ducking behind another pillar. He chanced one more peek around the corner. Taking a deep breath, he turned and threw the torch, aiming for the now empty sconce on the wall. At the same time, he kicked a rock out from behind the pillar. It clattered throughout the hall, the noise echoing off the vast stonework, and Arix immediately ducked behind the pillar again.

The guard's heavy footsteps approached. Nearer, and nearer, his shadow creeping along the floor in front of Arix's hiding place. The clanking of armour, the thud of heavy feet, and now Arix was sure he could even hear the guard's breath, he was so close.

The guard trudged right by him.

Arix whipped around behind the guard and crept behind him, and reached out for the ring of keys. Ever so lightly, he lifted it off the guard's belt. For a moment, his heart stopped. But the guard kept lumbering on, to retrieve the 'fallen' torch. Arix gripped the keys tight together to muffle their jangling and ran off, only hoping the lumbering idiot's deafening clank muffled his footsteps. He rounded a corner, then another, not even bothering to take note of where he was, just to get as far away from that place as he could. Only then did he allow himself a moment of rest to take stock of where he was.

Low in the palace. He had been here before. When he wasn't working the dungeons, he was here, hauling metal and stone through the hallways, or ferrying messages back and forth. More slowly now, he walked through the halls. Yes, he was sure of it. The armoury was close.

Whether he subconsciously remembered the way, or purely found the door by luck, he didn't know or care. But before long, the heavy metal door rose above him, the image of a sword and shield carved upon it. Chancing a look over his shoulder, he frantically tried one key after another, until finally he was rewarded with a click.

The door swung open to reveal a chamber, larger than the one the slaves slept in. Lit by magically illuminated torches upon the walls, the ground was dusty, save for a well-travelled path from the door to the weapon racks and armour stands that lined the walls, along with an elaborately-crafted wooden cupboard in the corner that reached up to the roof of the chamber. Arix wasted no time in ducking inside and closing the door behind him. Hanging on the wall immediately next to the door were a pair of huge battleaxes. Strong for sure, but too cumbersome to be of any use if he wanted to maintain any level of stealth throughout the corridors of the palace. He passed by a few stands that bore full sets of plate armour. He touched a claw on the breastplate. How comfortable he would feel inside that shell of protective steel, safe from blade, horn and claw! He sighed. No, it would make far too much noise. He wanted to remain unseen, taking a weapon only for a last resort if needed. Perhaps a bow to take the guards out from afar? He could hide in the shadows, even firing arrows to create distracting sounds. But could he trust the steadiness of his hand, after how his last encounter had so shaken him?

He continued to examine the weapons until he came to the rack in the corner, arrayed with long blades. Yes, this was it. A longsword. Easy to carry, simple enough to wield. He drew one from the rack and inspected its edge. Still shiny. Well maintained, recently sharpened. Grinning, he sliced it through the air, then punched the hilt forward. Perfect. The force of a hilt blow could easily daze a guard, and it would cut clean enough to kill and give him time to leave the site before anyone was the wiser. Above the sword rack were shields arrayed on the wall. He reached up to pull one down, but before he could grasp at it, there was a rattle of keys from the door behind him.

Without thinking, he darted to the cupboard and snuck inside. He could not close the door entirely, but hoped whoever was entering woul not notice it being left slightly ajar. He flattened himself against the back wall of the closet, gripping the sword tight. But as he pressed himself against the wall, it shifted behind him. He turned, pressed a hand against it. The wooden boards bent back, then slid away, revealing another passage behind it. Arix barely thought twice about it, thinking only to get as far from the armoury as he could, at least until whoever was there had left. But the passage went on far deeper than the shallow closet would have implied. It seemed to go into the very walls of the palace itself, the scent of old must and the dust on the ground each growing thicker as he went further and furth in. The stone was cold beneath his feet, and the sounds of the stomping guards quickly faded away, replaced with the much lighter skittering of whatever pests lived deep in the palace walls. Arix spat a small lick of flame at his torch to relight it and followed the passage.

He didn't know how long he had followed the old passage when he noticed small holes of light set in the stone walls. Taking care to keep the torch away from them, he stepped close to the hole, just barely the size of his eye, and peered through.

The chamber beyond was a familiar one. It was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon from a window above, and bore three small beds. A cavern elf lie slumbering on one, with a young wolfling upon another. The third was empty. He backed away. On this side of the wall, the light of the room filtered through a vaue outline of a door, set in the wall. A secret passage in the palace - and who knew how many chambers it connected to? His hands trembled as it dawned upon him. This...this could be the first step. He didn't know how, especially when the master's bracer could call the slaves to his side whenever he wished. But not even the three of them had known about this passage, even having lived in that very room for so long now. Did the owner of the palace even know it existed?

But he couldn't return to Lenora and Connor yet. A sword and a passage were not enough.

He noted the largest stone next to the door and scratched an X in it with his sword. Then he backed away, and continued his trek through the passage. First, he had to learn more about this place.

---

The tunnels were not so difficult to navigate. For the most part, they led in only one direction, with only the occasional branch here or there, which often led to a dead end, Similar small holes allowed Arix to peek into the palace. Occasionally there was a full chamber beyond, often slave quarters similar to Arix's own, but far more often he saw only empty hallways. Once in a while he saw a guard patrol by. The spyholes into the chabers often had similar faint outlines of secret doors leading into and out of them. As Arix continued through the passageway, he made a note to map it out as best he could. It didn't need to be perfect. When he was ready, he could tell the others, and they could all help each other. He noticed a general pattern, that it felt like he was ascending. Small ramps occasionally brought him to a higher level. It felt as though he had ascended several floors now - a feeling confirmed by what he saw in the next spyhole.

A lavish bedroom, carpeted with red. A crystal chandelier hung from the roof, its magical glow providing soft illumination cast throughout the room. A lush silken bed stood against the wall, with a red canopy draped over it. Through the gaps in the canopy, Arix could see a grey-furred wolfling sleeping atop the covers - his slavemaster. But that was not what most caught his attention. The master's arm was bare. The bracer rested atop a dark mahogany table, in the corner of the room next to the bed.

Arix held his breath. He looked down at the sword in his hand. The slavemaster was helpless upon his bed. He could find the secret door leading into the room, slash the wolfling's throat, and be gone before anyone knew. And if truly nobody was aware of the passages in the palace walls, nobody could ever trace him back to his chambers. He'd be back in there, 'asleep' on his bed, and none of the guards would guess he had done it.

He dropped the torch onto the ground beside him and crept along the wall, looking for that telltale glow around the door. When he found it, he pushed against it, softly, carefully as he could, until it gave way beneath his hand. Like in the armoury, he emerged in a closet, this one filled with the robes and finery he often saw the slavemaster wearing when not deep in the dungeon beneath. He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the soft red carpet. The desk, with the lightning bracer abandoned upon it, was right by his side. He stifled a deep growl, gripping his sword tighter. It would have been so satisfying to smash the thing right then and there. But he thought better of it. He could take it back to Lenora and Connor. Lenora would certainly know of a better way to use such an artefact. He chanced a glimpse back at the snoring slavemaster. No signs of movement, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Arix reached out his free hand to lift the bracer.

Like lightning, it clasped around his forearm. Like thunder, a loud crash echoed through the room. There was a snarl and a grumble from the bed. Arix looked at the thing, now attached firmly to his arm. No time to pry it free now. He leapt back into the closet, pushed hard at the back wall, and darted back into the passages. Behind him came a barked command, muffled by the thick stone. Here, in the darkness of the secret tunnel, he could see the bracer pulsing with blue light, crackling blue energy dancing across its surface. Of course. Of course the master wouldn't leave such a precious thing simply lying on the table, even if he thought his chambers totally safe. Arix cursed what a fool he was.

But he was not without advantages. If the master truly did not know about these tunnels, Arix could dart through them, return to his own chamber, and be in his bed before anyone came looking. If he could just hide the bracer from the guards' prying eyes for that brief moment, surely Lenora or Connor would know of a way to remove it, to get it to stop glowing, anything!

Sounds of chaos came through the walls, though none clear enough to suggest anyone in there with him. The slave chambers would be the first place they would look. And if he wasn't there, they'd know. They'd turn the place inside out looking for him, and soon they would find the tunnels. He wouldn't be safe until he was out of the palace. And with the glowing, crackling bracer attached to his arm, he'd never be able to sneak out. Just get to his bed, hide his arm, then think of the next step. That was all he had to do.

The tunnels' straightforward layout played to his advantage, now. He remembered the few turns he had made, and knew the descending ramps. The chaotic noises grew fainter as he ran, the straightforward tunnels allowing him to easily outpace those in the more elaborate palace halls and chambers. Only once he was back at the bottom level did he allow himself to slow down, his chest heaving for breath. He scanned the wall for the scratched stone, and pushed on the hidden door with all his considerable strength. The stonework fell away, dissolving into the air like magic, and he stumbled and fell flat on his face next to Connor's bed.

The young wolfling jumped from the bed, landing gracefully on one knee in the corner, his hand grasping for a stick, a stone, anything, before he realised. "A-Arix...?" he stammered. "Wh-what..."
"Where did you..." Lenora started, then silenced when the dragon lifted his arm, showing the bracer attached to it.
"Someone will be here soon," Arix said through heavily drawn breaths. "Help me do something about this?"
Lenora quickly gathered her senses and grabbed at the bracer. She pulled back as a small spark of energy jolted at her hand. Arix growled and grasped at it with his free claw, leaving the sword discarded upon the ground. Fighting through the small shocks, he pulled at it. It refused to budge. Then came Connor's claws, digging between the bracer and Arix's forearm. Magical lightning danced down Connor's hand and wrist, and he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The energy curled up his arm, reaching his shoulder. He closed his eyes and flattened his ears, suppressing a whine, and heaved. There was a click, and the bracer finally unlatched, clattering to the floor. Arix kicked it under his bed, along with the sword.

The sounds of marching feet grew nearer, and the three of them leapt into their beds. Arix closed his eyes, expecting to hear the door crashing open. Instead, the marching stopped, and the door opened with a mere click.
"On your feet, all of you!" the slavemaster's voice barked. Arix turned, his eyes half-opened as if still groggy, but he quickly obeyed. The other two followed suit. "Come!" he bellowed, and turned his back to leave. The slaves had little choice, as burly guards grabbed at each of them and shoved them out of the room, prodding them along with the hafts of their halberds. All along the hall, other slaves were being pushed out of their chambers similarly, until they all formed a line down the hall. Lenora, Connor and Arix exchanged quick glances with each other, but neither of them dared so much as a whisper.

All the slaves were led into a larger chamber. Still on the lower levels of the palace and not as decadent as the higher floors, but large enough to comfortably fit the slaves, a good amount of guards, and the master himself - none of which said even a hushed word. The master leapt onto one of the long benches that lined the room and surveyed the gathered captives.
"I'm going to give the culprit one chance to come forward!" he called to the crowd. Arix's tail flicked restless behind him, and Lenora huddled close by his side. No one said a thing. "Everyone is accounted for," the master continued. "Which means the guilty one is among us. One more chance to confess!" He scanned the crowd. Arix's heart skipped a beat as the master's eyes met his, but he quickly passed over the dragon. "No one? Very well." He signalled a group of guards. "Lashings for all of them! Two at a time, every hour of every day, until it is returned!"

"I-I know where it is!"

All eyes in the room turned to Connor. The young wolfling looked at Arix. "It...it's under his bed."
Arix's eyes grew wide, and almost out of instinct, he leapt at Connor, his claws outstretched. The young wolfling shied away, and two pairs of strong hands grabbed at Arix's wings and shoulder and threw him to the ground. Before he knew it, a heavy foot was upon his chest, and he was staring down the blade of a halberd.
The master smiled. "Search the drake's chamber!" he bellowed, and three guards hurried out of the room. Arix struggled against the guard that had him pinned, but to no avail. The guard grazed his shoulder with the halberd and kept him immobilised against the cold floor.

He lost track of the moments until the three guards returned. They approached the master, and handed back the silver bracer. The master grinned as it affixed itself upon his arm once more, crackling with blue energy.
"All you lowlifes should thank that boy," he said, gesturing at Connor. "He's spared you all those lashings." Lenora looked at Connor and shook her head. Arix felt himself hauled up to his feet as the guards forcefully dragged him away. The master followed, watching Arix with a triumphant smile.

"You're a coward, Connor!" Arix roared. "A traitor and a coward!"
"Connor, is it?" the master said. "Extra rations and a private chamber for Connor!"
Arix was dragged out of the room and down a hall, and darkness enveloped him.