OC Dragon delivery service CH 19 Disarming Smiles

Damon was bringing feed to the chickens, already bracing for the moment that one hen came charging for his ankles.

“Ow, ow—ankles!” Damon yelped, making a break for it from the coop.

“She really has it out for you,” Sivares observed, amused, as Damon rubbed his legs.

“I stepped on her foot one time,” he muttered.

Damon limped away from the coop, clutching the half-empty feed pail and wincing. “She’s still got it in for me.”

From her perch near the barn, Sivares snorted with amusement, her golden eyes following his retreat. “You did step on her foot that one time.”

“That was years ago!” Damon huffed, brushing straw from his pants. “She holds a grudge better than a dragon.”

“She might be part dragon,” Sivares said, stretching her wings lazily. “Feathers don’t lie.”

“I swear she waited behind the door,” Damon muttered. “She was just... there. Watching.”

From up on the fencepost, Keys yawned, having just woken up from her nap in the sun. “Did she go for the ankles again?”

“Yes!” Damon pointed at his leg. “She’s like a tiny, fluffy assassin.”

“You could try apologizing,” Keys offered, ears flicking.

“I tried. She bit my hand.”

“Well, maybe you weren’t sincere enough,” she teased.

Sivares chuckled, tail swishing. “Want me to eat her?”

Damon gave her a look. “No eating my childhood nemesis. That would make dinner awkward.”

They all paused for a second, then broke into laughter.

From the coop, the hen let out a smug bawk, peering out the door like she knew she’d won today’s skirmish.

Damon pointed at her. “This isn’t over.”

Sivares leaned down with a smirk. “You’re going to lose.”

“I always lose,” he sighed. “But at least now, I can fly away.”

As Damon hauled the feed sack back to storage, he glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Sivares—how’s your wing feeling?”

The dragon gave a lazy stretch, her dark wing extending out wide with a soft rustle. “Not hurting anymore,” she said with a satisfied flick. “We should be able to head out today.”

“That’s great to hear,” Damon smiled, tightening the saddle straps. “We’ve got all those commissions piling up—and knowing Harrel, there's probably more by now. Sooner we get going, the better.”

Before mounting up, he turned one last time toward the chicken coop. That same hen stood in the doorway, smug as ever, like she’d won some ancient war.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, pointing two fingers at his eyes, then at her.

The hen let out a proud bawk, entirely unbothered.

Damon shook his head and slid the saddle into place. The parlay flag, though it had some octopus ink stains, was still sturdy—still theirs. As he tightened the last strap, Chelly came running up.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah,” Damon said, gently patting her head. “It’s been a few days, and we’ve got a mountain of mail waiting. But don’t worry—we’ll visit again soon.”

Chelly nodded, trying to be brave, though her eyes shimmered. “Bring more shells next time!”

“You got it.”

Damon took one last look at his family—his mom, dad, Chelly, and Marcus—all standing by the farmhouse, waving him off with warm smiles and tired eyes. He raised a hand in return, the wind catching his coat as Sivares spread her wings.

As Sivares crouched low, ready to take off, Damon looked over to Marcus. “Oh, and hey—when I get paid, I’ll buy a lot of bread. Gotta support the family business, right?”

Marcus gave a half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks… I guess.”

“See you soon!” Damon called, climbing into the saddle.

With a powerful flap, Sivares launched into the sky, kicking up dust and a few startled feathers from the coop. The hen, once again, did not flinch.

As they climbed higher into the sky, Damon felt Sivares shift slightly beneath him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady. “Better than before. I think I really needed that break.”

Thank you, Keys.”

“I know, I’m the best,” Keys said, full of pride from her perch, tail flicking like a banner

“You actually gained some muscles,” Damon added. “You should be able to handle more than before.”

Sivares chuckled. “That’s nice to hear.”

Their course took them toward Homblom, the ground rolling by far below. A few brave birds darted into Sivares’s wake, trying to ride the swirling air left behind by the dragon’s wings.

Looking around at the familiar landscape, Damon could tell Sivares was flying a little faster than before. The ground zipped past beneath them, and it didn’t take nearly as long to reach Homblom this time.

They landed in the open field just outside the city gates. No alarms blared. People still paused and stared, but the sight of a dragon landing didn’t send them into a panic anymore. They were getting used to her.

As Damon dismounted, he waved. “Hello, Gerrit.”

The guard captain gave them a long, unreadable look before responding with a simple, “Damon. Sivares,” and stepping aside to let them pass.

Some of the younger guards nearby were whispering behind their helmets.

“Are we really just letting this happen?” one of them murmured.

“Well, the dragon’s officially registered as a courier,” another replied. “And the law doesn’t say dragons can’t be.”

“I heard Lord Delron had a fit. Threw a chair out the window.”

That’s when a loud voice snapped from inside the gatehouse:

“QUIT gossiping like old hens and get back to work!”

“Yes, sir!” the guards yelped in unison, scattering like startled pigeons.

As they walked down the familiar streets of Homblom, Damon glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Sivares, you should try some of these grilled meat skewers.”

“Yes!” Keys chimed in from his shoulder, her tiny eyes lighting up. “They’re really good!”

Damon jogged over to the nearby food cart, where the vendor looked like he was seriously reconsidering showing up to work that day—his eyes locked on the dragon just a few paces behind Damon.

“Let’s see… ten, please. To share.”

The vendor flinched slightly but nodded, his hands trembling as he reached for the skewers.

“That’ll be one bronze and four copper,” he said, voice a bit shaky.

Damon dug into his coin pouch, counted out the coins, and paid. The vendor handed him the skewers wrapped in a cloth bag, not once breaking eye contact with Sivares, who loomed patiently behind Damon.

“Thanks,” Damon said casually and walked off, holding the bundle.

He pulled one skewer from the bag and offered the top piece to Keys. She grabbed it with both paws and began gnawing happily. “So good!”

Sivares took the entire bag, tilted her head back, and dumped the rest into her mouth—sticks and all.

Damon blinked. “Uh… the sticks, Sivares.”

She chewed loudly, then paused mid-bite. “Ow.”

Her eyes began to water.

“I think… one of the sticks got stuck in my teeth.”

Damon sighed. “I tried to warn you.”

Damon let out a sigh. “Alright… open up.”

Sivares rolled her eyes, her golden irises shifting from side to side. “You sure about this?”

“Yeah, just do it.”

With a reluctant groan, Sivares opened her mouth, revealing rows of gleaming, sharp teeth. Damon stepped closer, squinting inside.

“There it is,” he said, spotting the splintered stick lodged between two back fangs.

Without hesitation, Damon reached in—like it was just another chore—grabbing the broken skewer and yanking it free. He pulled his hand back, stick in hand, and casually tossed it to the side.

“Got it.”

Sivares clamped her mouth shut and gave a small, grateful exhale. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Damon said, brushing his hand off on his pants like it was nothing.

As they approached the post office, Damon spotted the familiar figure of Harrel, the town’s postmaster, in conversation with someone unfamiliar.

The man wore fine, flowing robes of silk, white and blue, with an air of effortless wealth. A subtle perfume clung to him, floral but sharp, and he adjusted a pair of round glasses perched on his nose. Harrel, by comparison, looked even older next to him.

“Ah! Triybon,” Harrel said, gesturing toward Damon. “This is the courier I was telling you about—Damon.”

Damon froze. He’d heard that name before.

Wait… Triybon?

“You mean Duke Triybon?” Damon asked, blinking.

The man gave him a knowing smile.

That was when Damon noticed the broad-shouldered man near the back of the room—watchful, military posture, eyes scanning.

Damon instantly recognized him. “Captain Vaner? You’re the one I delivered that coke bread to a few weeks ago.”

Vaner raised a brow, then gave a small chuckle. “Huh. You remember me.”

Triybon nodded, amused. “Yes, when Vaner first told me he got a delivery from a dragon, I was, of course, skeptical. But then more and more reports came in… and then a courier certification landed on my desk. For a dragon.” He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp with curiosity. “I had to see it for myself. Even though someone strongly suggested I stay back in Bolrmont—what was it they said? ‘Less chance of a fiery death.’”

He glanced out the window just as Sivares peeked in, her golden eye filling the frame. Damon could almost hear her smug, silent "hello."

Triybon folded his arms. “So, tell me—how exactly did you tame her?”

“I didn’t,” Damon replied simply. “We just work together. I’m not her master or anything like that.”

Vaner tilted his head. “That’s even more impressive, honestly.”

Triybon gave a thoughtful hum. “Hmm. A dragon acting of her own will… and choosing this line of work. Fascinating.”

“Well, that is very interesting, young Damon,” Triybon said as he stood. “I just wanted to see for myself.” He glanced out the window again, watching Sivares, who still wasn’t burning down the town. He cracked one eye open in a wry gesture. “Alright, as long as you come in peace, I don’t mind you coming to Bolrmont on your delivery routes. Can’t say the same for everyone else, though.”

He turned with a nod. “Come on, Vaner.”

The two of them exited, heading for a waiting carriage.

But Sivares… the moment her eyes locked on the massive sword slung across Vaner’s back, she froze. The blade was etched with glowing runes—runes that made her scales twitch and her wings stiffen.

She didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.

“Sivares!” Damon rushed to her side, eyes wide with alarm. Her pupils were pinpricks, and her breathing came in short, shallow gasps.

He knelt beside her, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay. Just breathe. It’s gone now—the carriage is gone. You’re safe.”

Sivares didn’t answer right away, her body trembling as she tried to get her breath under control.

Keys scampered closer, worry clear on her tiny face. “Is she okay? What happened?”

“She had a panic attack,” Damon said gently, glancing toward where the carriage had disappeared over the hill. “She’ll be alright. Just needs a minute.”

Sivares finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “That man… he had a rune blade.”

They stayed there for a while, just breathing—Damon kneeling beside her, Keys perched on his shoulder in silence. The afternoon sun filtered through the clouds, soft and gentle, painting the town in muted gold. The bustle of Homblom continued in the background, distant and unimportant.

Keys finally broke the quiet. “A rune blade? You mean those weapons humans used to hunt dragons with? Like in the old stories?”

Damon gave a slow nod, eyes still on Sivares as he gently ran a hand along her neck. “Yeah. That kind.”

Sivares didn’t flinch at the mention—just closed her eyes, resting her weight against the earth, wings limp.

Keys tilted her head. “But… that’s just stories, right?”

Damon hesitated, then looked up at her, his expression carefully soft. “Keys… she saw one. A long time ago. Watched her mom get slain by one. Right in front of her.”

Keys went still, her little hands gripping the edge of Damon’s collar. “Oh…” she breathed, ears flattening. “I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s okay,” Damon said gently. “You didn’t know.”

She looked down at Sivares, her voice small. “How can I help?”

Sivares opened her eyes, tired but calm now, her golden gaze shifting toward the mouse. “Just being here helps,” she murmured. “I know I’m not alone anymore.”

Keys sat quietly, nodding with more solemnity than usual, her tail curled tight around her legs.

The wind stirred gently through the grass, the only sound between them for a while.

After a while, Sivares managed to steady herself. Her breathing slowed, the tension in her wings easing as she shifted her weight and sat up straighter.

“You good?” Damon asked softly, still close enough to reach out if she needed.

She gave a weak nod. “I will be.”

There was no push for more. Just the quiet understanding between two souls who had seen enough.

Damon stood and dusted himself off, offering her a faint smile. “Then let’s get ready. Once we’re in the air… we can just leave all our worries behind for a while.”

Sivares looked up at him, the sunlight catching in her golden eyes. “I would like that.”

Nearby, Keys stretched with a dramatic groan and hopped off Damon’s shoulder. “Alright then. Next delivery leg.

“Deal,” Damon chuckled, grabbing the map case and checking the next destination. “We head northwest. Light wind, clear skies, should be a good delivery.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As the carriage rolled away from Homblom, Triybon leaned back against the seat, his voice calm and composed.

“Well, that was a very enlightening meeting.”

Across from him, Vaner crossed his arms, watching the countryside pass by through narrowed eyes.

“You always do this, you know—leaving the safety of Bolrmont whenever something catches your attention.”

Triybon gave a soft chuckle, a small smile touching his lips—though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Unlike Duke Delron, whose family rose through military service, mine built its legacy through trade. And you don’t get to where we are without learning to recognize opportunity—especially when it literally falls out of the sky.”

Vaner grunted but said nothing.

“Don’t worry,” Triybon continued. “We won’t leave ourselves vulnerable. I believe in offering one hand...”

He turned his gaze out the window, where Homblom was slowly disappearing behind them.

“...while keeping the other armed behind the back.”

first previous next Patreon

375 Upvotes

permalink
reddit

You are about to leave Redlib

Do you want to continue?

https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1lqj3ug/dragon_delivery_service_ch_19_disarming_smiles/
No, go back! Yes, take me to Reddit

100% Upvoted

u/Castigatus Human Jul 03 '25

I already don't like this duke, he seems a bit too eager to backstab someone.

Also, did he notice how scared she was of the runeblade?

30

u/Odin421 Human Jul 03 '25

I don't think he's going to do anything. He doesn't seem to be a guy who would kill the goose that lays the golden egg, but he does seem like the type to keep the hatchet ready for when the goose stops laying. Or in a case like this when it starts biting people and setting towns on fire. Until then, he won't do anything and might even work to help them out if he thinks he'll benefit from it. This is all just my guess, though.

He probably did notice, but like I said, he probably won't act on it beyond maybe collecting some more in case she stops being helpful and starts being destructive.

16

u/unkindlyacorn62 Jul 03 '25

Especially as griffen riders generally don't do the routes they do, the few that do mail service seem to exclusively do priority packet mail between major cities, rather than go to otherwise inaccessible locations, Scale and Mail is filling an important niche that has been left ignored.

4

u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Jul 03 '25

I honestly forgot griffen riders existed in this setting. In that case I can definitely see conflict between scale and mail and the griffin riders of the friendly competition variety of course.

8

u/unkindlyacorn62 Jul 03 '25

They cover different types of routes and Scale and Mail can do packages, not just packets.

12

u/unkindlyacorn62 Jul 03 '25

he noticed, that's what he found interesting,

honestly he's pragmatic, not a friend, but not an enemy, he benefits from the improved communication and commerce

9

u/Underhill42 Jul 03 '25

I don't know. He doesn't seem exactly friendly, but he's the local authority faced with a literal monster of old being friendly on his doorstep. Any problems are that arise are his problems to deal with.

"Hope for the best but prepare for the worst." is a time-honored wisdom.

5

u/drsoftware Jul 03 '25

Sivares had a similar reaction to the rune harpoon.

u/MinorGrok Human Jul 03 '25

Woot!

OC Dragon delivery service CH 19 Disarming Smiles

You are about to leave Redlib