Mavie steps back, her sword still at the ready, eyes darting about for any way past the dragon.
The young beast gave another low groan, then a sharp roar that echoed through the vibrant grove.
Mavie: muttering "Eugh… What now? I've no wish to battle this day…"
The knights shared glances, uncertain. One among them — a younger knight, bold or perhaps foolish — stepped forward.
Mavie: stern "Halt! What dost thou think thou art doing? Step away ere thou be devoured!"
The young knight offered a sheepish smile.
Knight: "Peace, milady… mayhap it means us no harm."
He turned to the dragon and spoke in a soothing tone.
Knight: "Hail, little one… where is thy dam?"
The small dragon tilted its head with a curious chirp, then began circling the knight, sniffing and snorting softly.
Knight: nervous "Ah… what now?"
Mavie, frowning, took a step forward.
Mavie: "Enough jesting—return to the line at once!"
The wyrmling gave a low growl in her direction, small embers flaring from its nostrils.
Knight: grinning back at his comrades "It seems, milady, thou hast found no favor in its eyes… What hast thou done?"
The knights chuckled softly. Mavie exhaled, lowering her blade with a roll of her eyes.
Mavie: "Hmph. How rude… though perhaps it shows sense."
She gave the dragon a wary glance.
Then her gaze hardened.
Mavie: "Enough folly—we came not for sport. A crown is lost, and a knave still at large. Let us be swift."
As if hearing her words, the dragon abruptly fluttered its wings — and with a small leap, darted off into the brush beyond, stirring the leaves.
A glint caught Mavie's sharp gaze — something golden, glimmering faintly beneath the tangled vines where the wyrmling had lain.
Mavie: soft gasps "Hold… what is this?"
She pushed past the knights and swept aside the vines with her blade.
There—half-buried in moss and earth—was the stolen crown, gleaming beneath the forest light.
Sir Alden: "By the heavens! The crown!"
Mavie: "Aye. Yet where is the knave who brought it hither?"
A sudden rustle — hurried footsteps deeper in the grove.
Mavie: Says it sharply "Someone flees! After them—swiftly!"
The knights surged forward, blades drawn, crashing through the undergrowth in pursuit. Mavie led the charge, her eyes burning with resolve.
But the figure ahead was swift — masked and cloaked, darting between trees with practiced ease. A trickster's laugh echoed behind them as they vanished into shadow.
Mavie: growls Blast it! Escaped us… for now."
She halted, catching her breath. In her hand gleamed the recovered crown.
Mavie: grimly "At least this is returned. But the hunt is not yet ended."
Mavie eyed the glimmering crown in her hand, the weight of it resting cold against her palm. Her gaze flicked around the grove, narrowed with thought.
Mavie's thought: "A thief so foolish as to leave the crown in such a place…" she mused darkly. "Tch. Hardly the cunning sort."
She let out a slow breath, casting one last glance into the depths of the forest, where the masked figure had vanished.
Mavie: aloud "Let us away. The light fades fast, and there is naught more we can do this night."
The knights gathered around her, weary from the chase. They gave firm nods, gripping their swords.
Mavie: "We return to the kingdom. Come morn, the hunt shall begin anew. That knave shan't slip us twice."
Without another word, she turned, striding through the vibrant glade that had nearly become their doom. The small dragon's presence was gone, the forest eerily still once more.
The knights followed close, eyes wary. The path through the woods grew dimmer with each step.
In her mind, Mavie steeled herself. "Tomorrow... we shall uncover this thief's face. And they will answer for their folly."
And so they made their way back toward the distant lights of the kingdom.
At dawn's first light, the gates of the kingdom swung open as Mavie and her knights rode in, the stolen crown now safe in her possession. Villagers and nobles alike gathered along the streets, whispers rising among them.
"They found the crown!"
"But where is the thief?"
Upon reaching the castle steps, Mavie dismounted and entered the grand hall, where King Theron awaited upon his throne. His gaze fixed upon the crown in her hands, relief washing over his face — yet a furrow remained upon his brow.
Theron: "Thou hast done well, Lady Mavie. The crown is returned... yet one question lingers."
"What manner of knave would dare such a theft — and why?"
Mavie bowed her head slightly. "Aye, my lord... We found no trace of the culprit ere nightfall."
Theron rose from his seat, voice resolute.
Theron: "Then I task thee once more — take thy finest men and ride out. The thief must be found and brought to justice. Let not this slight go unpunished."
Mavie nodded, her resolve unshaken.
Mavie: "As you command, Your Majesty. I shall take fifteen knights — and this time, we shan't return empty-handed."
Mavie's thought: "Tch… what a headache for today…"
She sighed and crossed her arms, eyeing the crown now safely placed back upon its stand.
Mavie: "But… I do have one question, Your Majesty. Must we begin this search now? At nightfall?"
Theron rubbed his chin and glanced out the grand windows, where the sky had already begun to darken.
Theron: "What? Ah… well… hmm…"
He sighed. "I know thou and thy men are wearied from thine efforts. Mayhap it is wiser to wait. Rest now, Lady Mavie. At first light, thou shalt gather thy knights, and the hunt shall begin anew."
Mavie gave a small bow, hiding a smirk.
Mavie: "Aye… as you command, my lord."
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The next morning broke clear and cool. The sun had only just crested the hills when Mavie stood before the castle gates, her armor polished and her sword at her side. Fifteen knights — some newly called — gathered at her command, their banners fluttering in the breeze.
Mavie: "Listen well, all of you. This thief hath made a mockery of our kingdom. We ride this morn — into the forest, where fresh tracks may yet be found."
The knights all nodded, spirits high despite the early hour.
Without delay, they rode out beyond the walls, hooves thundering along the dirt paths that led into the deep woods. The sun barely pierced through the thick canopy above as they pressed deeper, eyes sharp for any sign of the one they pursued.
Soon, one knight halted, raising a hand.
Knight: "My lady — footprints. New ones."
Mavie dismounted and knelt, inspecting the marks pressed into the soft earth. Smaller than a soldier's boot — swift and light.
Mavie: "Good. The trail is still fresh."
She stood, determination gleaming in her eyes.
Mavie: "Stay sharp. The thief cannot have gone far. Onward."
With that, the knights pressed on, swords ready and eyes keen — the hunt had truly begun.
(TO BE CONTINUED)