Fog still clung to the trees like wet breath, but the clearing had stopped feeling like a battlefield.
Not safe—never safe—but paused.
Mia’s three heads stayed low and watchful, heat and frost steaming in slow, irritated rhythm. Sphinx sat like a statue with lantern eyes, unblinking, as if the fog itself was something he could bite if it moved wrong.
Lenora kept her stance between Derpy and Vespera out of habit now—blade lowered, shoulders tight, ears pinned back in that stubborn way that said I’m listening, but I’m not folding.
Vespera’s wings were tucked, but her presence still filled the space like a law you couldn’t argue with.
Derpy rubbed his wrists. The burn was gone, but the memory of it still lived in his skin.
And deeper than that—under the pain—he could feel it.
That faint pulse of amusement.
Like Celica’s Embers was leaning on an invisible doorway, arms crossed, watching him try to be brave.
Derpy swallowed and forced himself to stand.
“Okay,” he said, voice rough. “So… you’re saying I’m basically holding a dragon god that likes to pick fights.”
Vespera’s eyes narrowed.
Lenora’s ears twitched.
Derpy lifted his hands anyway, palms out, like he was trying to calm down a room full of knives.
“I’m not saying no,” he added quickly. “I’m not stupid. I get it. There’s a contract. There’s rules. There’s… dragon law.”
His bracelets warmed faintly, like they approved of him saying the word contract.
Derpy exhaled.
“But if the contract is there,” he said, “then I want something in it that makes it even.”
Silence hit.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind where everyone decides whether you’re about to die for being bold.
Lenora stared at him like he’d just stepped in front of a charging monster on purpose.
Vespera’s expression didn’t change—but something sharpened behind her eyes.
“Even,” Vespera repeated, slow. “You think you can negotiate with a Calamity.”
Derpy’s throat tightened. “I think if I don’t, it’s going to negotiate me.”
The bracelets warmed again. Almost pleased.
Lenora’s jaw clenched. She looked like she wanted to scold him and protect him at the same time—like both instincts were fighting for the steering wheel.
Derpy glanced at her.
Lenora’s face went full pink instantly.
She snapped her gaze away like it burned and cleared her throat too hard. “Spit it out, Derpy.”
Derpy blinked. “Right. Okay. Terms.”
He held up one finger.
“First,” he said, “you teach me magic. Like… actual control. Not just ‘don’t panic.’ I want to learn how to use it without it using me.”
Vespera stared at him.
Lenora’s ears lifted slightly—like that one landed closer to “reasonable” than she expected.
Derpy raised a second finger.
“Second,” he said, “everything the party does is a group choice. Everything comes to a vote.”
Lenora’s eyes narrowed. “That’s—”
“Fair,” Derpy said quickly. “Because I’m new. I don’t know this world. And I’m not being dragged around like cargo.”
He hesitated, then added, “Unless someone goes off by themself. Then it doesn’t apply. If you break off alone, you’re choosing your own consequences.”
Lenora’s mouth tightened like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the crack.
Vespera’s gaze flicked to Lenora for half a heartbeat, then back to Derpy.
Derpy lifted a third finger.
“Third,” he said, and his voice got a little more stubborn, “you have to wear normal clothing.”
Vespera’s brow twitched.
Derpy pressed on anyway, because if he stopped now he’d lose the nerve.
“Like… a maid outfit,” he said, then held up a hand fast. “Of your choice. Not mine. I’m not—I’m not trying to be weird. I just—”
Lenora made a strangled sound like she’d swallowed air wrong.
Derpy looked at her.
Lenora’s face went full pink again—worse this time—like the word maid had punched her in the cheeks.
She snapped her gaze away so hard it was almost violent and barked, “Keep talking!”
Derpy flinched. “Okay! Okay.”
He lifted a fourth finger.
“Fourth,” he said, “you’re not allowed to use your full power in cities. Only… seventy-five percent.”
Vespera’s eyes narrowed. “Seventy-five.”
“Yeah,” Derpy said, trying to sound like he hadn’t pulled that number out of thin air. “Unless the party is in complete danger. Like real danger. Then you can go full power.”
The bracelets warmed, then cooled—like they were thinking about it.
Vespera’s wings flexed once, restrained.
“You want to put a leash on a dragon,” she said softly.
Derpy swallowed. “I want to put a leash on damage. There’s a difference.”
Lenora’s ears twitched, and for the first time since Vespera arrived, her stance loosened by a fraction.
Not trust.
But recognition.
Derpy took a breath, then looked straight at Vespera.
“And if you agree,” he said, voice quieter now, “then we seal it. Like a real contract. Something that can’t be twisted later.”
Vespera stared at him for a long moment.
Then her gaze dropped to his wrists.
To Celica’s mark.
To the thing that had burned her like it had teeth.
“You’re bold,” Vespera said.
Derpy’s laugh came out thin. “I’m terrified.”
Vespera’s mouth tightened, like she hated that she understood.
Lenora finally spoke, voice low and sharp.
“Vespera,” she said, “if you’re going to drag him into dragon law, then you don’t get to pretend he’s not a person.”
Vespera’s eyes flicked to Lenora.
For a second, the air felt like it might ignite.
Then Vespera exhaled through her nose—controlled, restrained, like she was forcing herself to behave in front of witnesses.
“Fine,” she said. “Say it again. All terms.”
Derpy repeated them, slower this time, like he was carving them into stone:
“One: you teach me magic. Control. Use. Safety.”
“Two: party decisions are group votes. Unless someone goes off alone.”
“Three: you wear normal clothing. A maid outfit of your choice.”
Lenora made a sound again—half cough, half choke.
Derpy shot her a look.
Lenora’s face went full pink again and she snapped her gaze away, ears stiff, muttering, “I’m going to kill you later,” like it was a prayer.
Derpy hurried on.
“Four: no full power in cities. Seventy-five percent max unless the party is in complete danger.”
When he finished, the fog felt thicker.
Like it was listening.
Like the forest itself wanted to know what kind of idiot tried to bargain with a dragon and a Calamity in the same breath.
Vespera stepped closer.
Derpy didn’t move.
He could feel Mia’s three heads behind him, ready to tear the world apart if she lunged again.
He could feel Sphinx’s stillness, coiled like a spring.
He could feel Lenora at his side, tense and stubborn and there.
Vespera looked down at him.
Then she said, very quietly:
“And the seal.”
Derpy’s throat went dry. “Yeah.”
He swallowed. “The deal ends with a kiss.”
Lenora froze.
Derpy heard it—her breath catching like she’d been hit.
He looked at her without thinking.
Lenora’s face went full pink so fast it was almost comical.
She snapped her gaze away instantly, ears rigid, voice coming out too loud. “WHY IS IT ALWAYS WEIRD WITH YOU?”
Derpy winced. “I said I wasn’t trying to—”
Vespera’s eyes narrowed, but not with anger.
With calculation.
“With dragons,” she said slowly, “contracts are sealed by intent.”
Derpy’s bracelets warmed faintly, like they were smiling.
“And with Calamities,” Vespera added, “contracts are sealed by bond.”
Derpy’s mouth went dry.
Vespera leaned in.
Not gentle.
Not romantic.
Like a judge stamping a document.
Derpy didn’t flinch.
He just closed his eyes and braced for the moment his life became something official.
Vespera’s lips met his.
A single, sharp beat.
Heat flashed through his wrists—Celica’s mark flaring like it had been waiting for permission.
The fog shuddered.
Mia growled low.
Sphinx’s lantern eyes narrowed.
Lenora stood frozen, face still full pink, staring at the ground like it had personally betrayed her.
The kiss broke.
Vespera pulled back first, eyes bright and cold.
Derpy’s bracelets cooled to yellow again—calm, satisfied.
And somewhere deep inside his ribs, that amused pulse returned.
Like Celica’s Embers had just signed her name with someone else’s mouth.
Vespera’s voice was low.
“Contract formed,” she said. “Do not test it.”
Derpy swallowed hard.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Lenora didn’t look at him.
When she finally spoke, her voice was tight and furious and embarrassed all at once.
“…We are never talking about the maid outfit again.”
Derpy opened his mouth.
Lenora snapped her gaze up for half a second—
Full face pink.
Immediate look-away.
—and pointed south like she could stab the fog with her finger.
“Whisperfen,” she said. “Now.”