(February 28, 2025)

We can only do so much in a day, Fellowship reminded himself as he stared at the to-do list still to be done.

Which was most of it. But wow, it had been a day. From the moment he’d sat down at his desk, there had been phone calls and meetings and demands and complaints, and now, three minutes to the end of his day, he finally had a moment to breath and assess all the things he hadn’t had time to touch.

Too many. Who would feed the dragon if he didn’t assign someone to do it?

(March 28, 2025)

He looked through the staff list, hoping with everything he had that someone would still be around. But nope, John was the last person in today, and he’d clocked out fifteen minutes ago.

Uuuuuuuugh.

Fellowship banged his head against the table, then shoved away from the desk and trudged towards the steep, stone staircase.

He hated feeding the dragon. It stank of sulphur and always looked at Fellowship like he was mud under his claw. And the stairs were steep. But if the dragon wasn’t fed, he would get grumpy, and no one wanted to deal with the grumpy dragon.

(March 31, 2025)

As Fellowship descended towards the basement, the temperature rose, the air growing clammy, almost steamy. By the time he reached the bottom, a film of sweat coated his brow, and it had nothing to do with the sheer number of stairs.

“You awake Mistrak?” he called down the darkened corridor. It was always wise to give the dragon forewarning. More than one employee had been incinerated after startling him out of a deep sleep.

“Awake and hungry, human. Why are you late?”

“How’s that for gratitude?” Fellowship mumbled from under his breath. Louder, he said, “Staffing issues. But I’m here now, so how about—”

His words fell silent when he reached the dragon’s lair and found the great beast… had shrunk.

(April 29, 2025)

“Mistrak, what happened?” Fellowship asked.

The dragon flicked out its forked tongue. “What happened is you missed my mealtime. You should be grateful I don’t eat you instead.”

Fellowship crossed his arms. “I would like to see you try. I could boot you across the room.”

Mistrak peeled its scaled lips back in a snarl. “You dare speak to me with such disrespect? I swear I’ll—Wait. You do seem to have grown rather tall.”

“I’m not tall, Mistrak. You’re small. You shrank. What happened? Was someone else down here?”

The dragon said he hadn’t eaten, so it couldn’t have been so kind of potion, but maybe a spell gone wrong?

“No one has been down here all day, human. It’s insufferable. The boredom is a problem.”

Fellowship frowned and looked around. Obviously something had to have caused this. As he scanned the enclosure, he noted a faint purple mist wafting towards him. “What is that?”

Mistrak turned as the mist reached them. “That. I have no idea. I noticed it earlier.”

It smelled faintly of seawater. And mint?

Fellowship sniffed, trying to place that second smell… and suddenly the world grew a little larger.

“What—what—No!”

Fellowship cursed as he realized what had happened. The mist. It had to be the mist. Which meant…

Well, it meant he was once again smaller than the dragon. A hungry dragon. A hungry, angry dragon.

Fellowship gulped and looked up at Mistrak. The dragon stared down at him.

“Worry not, tiny human, I will not eat you. Yet. First you will try to bring us back to size. If you fail, I will reassess how hungry I am.”

“Right.” No pressure whatsoever.

(May 29, 2025)

 “So, tiny human, where do we start?” Mistrak asked.

“First off, my name is Fellowship,” Fellowship said. “Not tiny human. If we’re to work together, I’d appreciate not being reminded that you consider me food every step of the way.”

He knew he was taking a risk angering the already angry dragon, but he felt it needed to be said.

Mistrak blinked his large golden eyes at him. “Very well. What is our next step?”

Fellowship watched the way the mist floated over their heads. “First, we follow that mist.”

The dragon blinked again. “So be it. Climb on.”

It was Fellowship’s turn to stare. “Excuse me? You want me… on your back?”

The look Mistrak gave him could only be described as contemptuous. “Do you believe you walk to the source? We’re dealing with air. We fly.”