Chapter 13 His Name Is Ren
Ten quiet days slipped by in the cave, the fragile peace stitching itself into a steady routine. The dragon's wounds had fully scabbed over, dried to thin, dark flakes that fell away when he stretched his wings.
His strength surged back with each passing day—no longer skittish, he darted in and out of the cave freely, his vanishing trick a seamless, silent flicker.
Bess had grown grudgingly accustomed to his presence, though she still snapped her teeth if he drifted too close to her hay pile. Hannah's small frame filled out more, her cheeks gaining color, her steps no longer weighed down by the exhaustion of constant hunger.
Dawn broke soft, with no snow and a faint warmth in the air, when a thunderous thud echoed at the cave mouth—jolting Hannah from her bedding and sending Bess snorting, hooves skittering back. She grabbed her dagger and stepped forward, then froze at the sight:
a giant moose lay slumped at the entrance, its pelt still warm, neck neatly snapped.
A small black form perched atop its antlers, wings folded proudly against his back, red eyes glinting with triumph.
"Weak human, look— I'm back to my prime!" the dragon crowed, leaping down to strut before the moose, his tiny frame puffing up to seem larger.
Hannah's eyes went wide, darting from the moose to the dragon and back, her voice laced with shock and worry.
"What?? That's far too big! Where did you even get this? Be careful—if anyone sees you hunt like this, they'll catch you again before you can vanish!"
The moose dwarfed Bess, who stepped forward to sniff it cautiously, then huffed in disdain at the sheer size, as if offended it was taking up cave space.
The dragon snorted, flicking his tail and tilting his head up arrogantly.
"Stupid human, you forget who you're talking to!
This mighty dragon can appear and disappear in the blink of an eye—those cunning humans back then had to use dirty dragon-bane nets and a hundred men just to deceive me!
A measly hunter or noble scout won't even catch a whiff of me before I'm gone!"
Again with the exaggeration.
The thought was plain on Hannah's face—her lips twitched, a faint eye roll she couldn't quite hold back, and the dragon hissed, indignant at being seen through.
Bess, sensing his puffed-up pride, trotted over and nuzzled him roughly with her nose, knocking him off balance; the dragon sputtered in anger, snapping at her hooves while Bess huffed proudly, tossing her mane.
Hannah laughed, watching their tussle, then paused—her gaze locking on the dragon, realizing he was twice the size he had been when she pulled him from the cliffside, scales glossier, wings sturdier.
This is a magical world, she reminded herself, and dragons must grow fast—she paid it no more mind, just shook her head at his pouting.
She knelt to run a hand over the moose's pelt, then sighed softly, glancing up at the dragon, her tone gentle but firm.
"Now that you're fully healthy, we should move on. After lunch, we'll head for the next city—small, far from the nobles' lands, safe enough to restock."
She leaned in, serious now,
"Can you camouflage yourself when there are other people? No one can know a dragon travels with me."
"Of course! I have endless mana, enough to cloak myself for days on end!" he snorted, chest puffing,
"You're a hundred years too early to worry about this mighty dragon's skills!"
Hannah smiled, shaking her head.
"Mr. Mighty Dragon, it's long overdue—but what is your actual name?"
"My name? I am the Black Dragon, Son of Calamity!" he boomed, spreading his small wings wide, red eyes blazing with pride, as if the title alone should strike awe.
"What? That's not exactly a name you can call casually—like how I'm Hannah, and my mare is Bess." Hannah said, voice softening.
She thought privately: his mother is named Calamity?
The title must stem from how dragons live—wild, unchained, feared by humans who don't understand them—and a flicker of worry crossed her face for the clan that bore such a daunting name.
"I can't keep calling you Black Dragon, right? We need a nickname—something we can use out loud so no one guesses I'm traveling with the mighty Son of Calamity."
"What is a nickname? I want one! Give me the best, strongest name in the world—fit for a dragon of my stature!" he demanded, bouncing on his haunches, suddenly eager.
Hannah paused, staring at his glossy black scales and fiery red eyes, the way he puffed up when proud and hissed when annoyed—brave, stubborn, a little silly, and entirely hers to protect now.
"Ren," she said softly. "Your nickname will be Ren."
The second the name left her lips, a warm, golden glow surged from Ren, wrapping around Hannah like a blanket.
The warmth spiked, turning intense, and a sudden, draining pull tugged at her energy—her vision blurred, her knees buckled, and she collapsed unconscious before she could speak another word.
Ren's proud roar died in his throat; he darted to her side, nudging her with his snout, panicking as her body went limp in the cave dust.
Hannah woke at dawn the next day, her head throbbing but her body thrumming with strange, new energy.
She blinked awake to find Ren hovering over her, red eyes wide with worry, and Bess nuzzling her hand gently.
A faint tingle covered her skin, and when she brushed a finger over her cheek, she froze—she felt small, hard scales, black as Ren's, dotting her jawline, and when she blinked, her vision sharpened, tinged with a faint red hue.
She must have red eyes now, matching the dragon's.
"Weak human! You finally wake up!" Ren squawked, relief edging his voice, "What happened? Were you going to die? I didn't do anything—I swear!"
"Ugh… I'm sorry, I'm okay." Hannah mumbled, pushing herself up, rubbing her head,
"I don't know what hit me—lost all my energy suddenly, like it was sucked right out. Maybe I was just too tired." She took a deep breath, surprised by how strong she felt now, as if she'd slept for a week,
"What time is it?"
"It's morning—you collapsed right after saying that… nickname yesterday." Ren tilted his head, then gestured proudly to a massive, hairy creature slumped by the cave mouth,
"Here, I caught food—bigger than the moose! A minotaur!" He then fluttered to the cave corner, where a pile of smaller carcasses lay: three goblins, two wolves with mangy fur and glowing yellow eyes, and a spiky-tailed forest imp.
"I caught those too, while patrolling last night—weak pests, but easy to kill."
Hannah stared at the minotaur, half-human, half-bull, and her face twisted in disgust.
Can we even eat this?
Half its body is human… she thought, shuddering, but her practical side kicked in fast—this haul could change everything for her journey.
She had no idea which parts were valuable or edible; no one had ever taught her.
She grabbed her dagger, its edge dull against a jagged stone, and hacked at the moose roughly.
Her cuts were clumsy and unskilled, tearing through flesh and fur without precision.
She didn't know which parts to keep or toss—she just grabbed whatever looked recognizable and easy to carry: the antlers, a chunk of thick hide, and a few lumps of meat, stuffing them into tattered cloth scraps.
Next she moved to the minotaur, her hands shaking as she sliced at it. She didn't know what counted as proof for a guild, so she just hacked off both curved horns and a strip of tough hide, the cuts ragged and uneven.
For the goblins, she snipped off their pointed ears; for the wolves, she tore out their glowing eyes and yanked off a paw each; for the imp, she hacked off its spiky tail and plucked a handful of sharp spines.
She stuffed every piece into messy bundles, not bothering to sort or label them—she only cared that they were small and light enough to carry.
Ren hovered nearby, circling her and tilting his head, confused why she was taking random bits instead of eating the whole kills, but he stayed quiet, watching her work with curious red eyes.
"I think I'm good with dried meat for now." She said quickly, tying the last bundle tight with frayed rope,
"We should pack up and leave—early, before anyone wanders this way. These things… they should sell for coin somewhere.
The antlers, the horns, the weird parts—apothecaries or the adventurers' guild might take them. This coin will let us buy proper rations, a warmer cloak, maybe even a basic book for me—if we're lucky."
Ren huffed, disappointed none of his prized kills were going to be eaten, but perked up instantly at the mention of the guild and new goods—curiosity overriding his pout.
They packed quickly: Hannah strapped all the messy bundles to Bess's saddle, stacking them haphazardly to balance the weight as best she could, then rolled her leaf bedding on top and secured everything tight with thick rope.
She slung her dagger at her belt, tucked flint and steel into her pocket, and double-checked her small pouch of dried jerky.
Ren cloaked himself in invisibility, though his voice rang loud and clear as he fluttered around Bess's head, and they set off south at a steady pace.
Bess huffed and stomped her hooves every few steps, annoyed by the heavy extra weight on her back, but she didn't buck or resist—she'd grown fiercely loyal to Hannah, even if she loathed the dragon's nonstop chatter.
The journey unfolded with Ren bombarding Hannah with endless questions, his voice echoing in her ears even when he was hidden from sight.
"What's an adventurers' guild? Are there strong fighters there? Will they cower when they learn I'm a dragon? What kind of book do you want? Why does Bess drag her hooves so slow—can't she run faster with all those bundles? That blue flower is weird, does it bite? Why do the trees here have thinner leaves?"
He pummeled her with curiosity over every tree, stream, odd rock, and skittish creature they passed, his excitement bubbling over with every new sight along the forest path.
Hannah answered patiently, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she guided Bess, her fingers brushing the black scales on her jaw now and then—still strange, but not unpleasant, like a quiet reminder of the bond she'd forged with Ren.
She felt stronger than she ever had, her steps light, her mind sharp, and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel the crushing loneliness that haunted her at the count's manor.
The road ahead was long, filled with unknown risks and unforeseen turns, but with Bess steady beside her and Ren's noisy, unwavering loyalty, Hannah felt ready to face whatever came next.
.
.
.
.
To be continued...