You’d somehow become the undisputed favorite customer of Silvergrove’s resident blacksmith, Ethari — and it had nothing to do with your punctual payments or the quality of your commissions. The truth was simpler: any job for you meant he had a reason to visit the dragon stables. As a dragonkeeper, your days were spent raising, training, and eventually sending your scaled charges off to new homes, and Ethari never passed up a chance to slip into your world for a few minutes.

He arrived with your latest order — a bundle of gleaming fittings meant for saddlework — and stepped inside with the practiced caution of someone who had learned, through trial and error, just how unpredictable young dragons could be. He skirted a pair of ivory talons, dipped under a lazy sweep of enormous wings, and emerged grinning as he reached you. His eyes roamed over the stables, bright with admiration at every rumbling, shimmering creature within.

“I don’t think I could ever grow tired of seeing them,” he said, offering the metal pieces. “These are the parts you asked for, right?”