Apparently, That Wyvern Belongs to Us

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, half-convinced it was just another… dream.

"…"

Yet the creature still remained, hovering in the sky above, impossible to ignore.

— Wait... this is actually real...?

Blue as the sea, it was long and serpentine, its sharp, bat-like wings sliced through the air. Its head and tail bore a reptilian grace, lined with jagged spikes that glimmered in the sunlight. It was enormous, easily the length of a small passenger plane. With each flap, its wings churned the air into violent gusts that assailed the garden below.

Despite its breathtaking appearance, the creature lacked the grandiose presence one would expect of a true dragon.

Its form was similar: long, scaled, and powerful, but there were substantial differences to say otherwise. The wings sprouted from its shoulders, not its back, and it had only two legs, instead of four.

This was a... 

Wyvern.

And here I was, barely an hour into this bizarre new world, standing utterly exposed beneath one.

As if one death had not been enough already.

I gulped, staring at the beast above me. And yet, strangely, there was not a single commotion flaring through the household.

No panicked screams.

No hurried footsteps.

Nothing.

— Wait, what about the kind old man outside?!

I hurriedly shifted my attention to the garden below.

"?"

The elderly gardener, simply stood there, calm and composed, continuing his work as if nothing was transpiring.

Was he not scared?

Not even a little terrified?

Or had he already accepted his fate?

Powerless as I was, I couldn’t just stand by and watch him perish. Quickly, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted with every ounce of breath I had remaining.

“Old man! Run! Run for it!”

Despite my desperate plea, he merely tilted his head in bewilderment.

“What’s wrong, young Master? Is something the matter?”

“What’s wrong with me?! Old man, can’t you see?! A wyvern is flying above you?! It’s coming to kill us!”

He glanced up briefly, but then reassured me with a gentle smile.

“Ah, it seems Duke Vandrelis has finally returned. What wonderful news, hoho.”

“Th-tha-that wyvern is ours?!” I asked, furrowing my brows in disbelief.

“Yes,” he nodded. “That wyvern you see up there belongs to the Vandrelis family. Have you perhaps, forgotten already, young Master?”

— This place is crazy. What's next, giant titans?!

The wyvern then shifted its trajectory towards the centre of the garden, where a perfectly circular hedge resembled a makeshift landing pad, identical to a helicopter zone. Slowly, it began its descent, and more did I get a precise view of its striking appearance.

Strapped securely to its body was a sleek, rectangular carriage with dark, tinted windows, mounted like some high-fantasy sky gondola.

Was this the standard form of air travel in this world?

— Well, I was kinda expecting a cool guy riding a wyvern in its bare back…

With a heavy oomph, the beast landed below in the centre of the garden. The maids and butlers quickly assembled, forming a neat semicircle, almost like a ceremonial guard of honour.

On the side of the carriage, a capsule-shaped door hissed open with a whoosh, then extended downward into a set of mechanical steps.

From within emerged a middle-aged man with slicked-back blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a regal blue suit paired with matching trousers and a flowing cape, crimson on the inside, deep navy on the outside, fastened at the shoulders with twin golden clasps. Polished black boots completed his look, and in one hand, he held an ebony cane topped with a gold ring shaped like a miniature globe.

With every step he took, the atmosphere grew heavier and heavier. A powerful aura radiated from him, flooding the space with pressure so intense it felt as though I might be forced to kneel in submission.

This was Duke Vandrelis, my supposed... father.

— No way! It's over nine-thou — I mean, it's immense! Very immense!

My glance had not gone unnoticed. The superhuman figure turned his head towards me, his stern face devoid of emotion. His sharp gaze locked onto mine, and I instinctively jerked back. Flustered, I offered a respectful bow on reflex.

He accepted the gesture with a mere glance, then turned his attention towards the grand doors and began walking directly toward them.

— Was he... coming to see me?

"!"

Speaking of the devil, a knock echoed behind me.

The door creaked open, and in stepped two familiar figures, Clara and Tessa, the very maids I had hastily dismissed earlier. They rushed to my side, finding me still clinging to the railing like a half-drowned cat.

“Master, are you alright?! You shouldn’t be out of bed. Please don’t push yourself!” Clara exclaimed, her voice laced with panic. She gently draped my arm over her shoulder and guided me back towards the bed.

Despite her concern, my eyes flicked over to Tessa, wary of the hostility she had shown earlier.

"..."

But now, there was none of that. Her expression had softened, quiet, almost distant, as if weighed down by a silent shame. She turned away, eyes lowered, the earlier coldness had dissipated completely, like someone waking from a trance they hadn’t known they were in.

I sank back into the plush bed, its warmth wrapped around me as the dull ache in my body slowly ebbed away.

"Right then, would you like something to eat, Master?"

"Or perhaps... do you need..." Clara adjusted her spectacles with a flustered grace, "Help with relieving yourself?"

From under the bed, she fetched an absurdly ornate chamber pot. 

Embarressed, I waved my hands frantically. "N-no-no! That’s fine! I can manage on my own!" I grabbed the extravagant chamber pot and hurriedly set it aside. "Rather, I’m hungry. If you could please bring me something warm, like a broth, I would very much appreciate it, ah-ha-ha-ha..." 

“O-of course, if that is what you would prefer…” Clara replied, her voice still tinged with uncertainty, perhaps still processing the sudden shift in demeanour from the ‘master’ she once knew.

With graceful synchrony, the two maids bowed and slipped out of the room.

— Maybe I do need to lie down. This bed is just too comf…

An hour later.

"!"

The door swung open, not wide, but just forcefully enough to jolt me from my deep slumber.

It was time to eat.

Or so I thought.

Standing in the doorway was someone whom I was not expecting.

A boy, maybe a year or two older than me. He had tousled red hair and wore a noble’s embroidered tunic with stark white trousers. His expression then twisted into a devilish grin, the kind worn by someone who delighted in cruelty.

"It seems you have woken up, you dirty-blooded peasant," he said with theatrical disdain.

"Uhm..."

"What’s wrong, peasant? Cat got your tongue?"

"I... I don’t even know who you are."