117 The Trickster (1/2)
After a couple of tiring hours of searching, Greyson finally found Snow before Zephyr transformed to his real size to fly them towards the Wind Altar. With Zephyr's speed, they only took an hour before reaching the destination. Noticing he seemed rather conspicuous otherwise, Greyson activated his dragon bloodline slightly which turned his purple eyes to the familiar reptilian slits losing the originally human look. Observing the tribe for so long allowed for him to pick up on how to accurately disguise himself. His old disguise spell also helped him increase his height and muscle mass. No matter if it were the twins, Aeos, or Cerul, they were definitely bulkier than the average human. His lean and rather scrawny-looking body did not fit the typical build of a dragon or even Beastman. Thankfully, the tribe provided him with clothes during his stay, so his fashion at least matched the standard. Placing on a nondescript hooded cloak, Greyson tried his best to blend in with the surroundings. The priority was to gain information on the war and the tribes involved. Without any knowledge of his enemies, he would be running in blind and probably end up killed. If the tribe leader was great magister level or above then taking direct offensive action meant almost certain death. A plan was necessary. A well-thought out plan in which his personal involvement was minimal. All his efforts would be moot in the face of everyone knowing he was the one who rescued Lucius. At that , both would have no reason to a nor the , Greyson, who was him. He would have troves of humans, magic beasts, and elves coming at him. Every race contained power-hungry and ambitious individuals. All of them would be willing to kill for good fortune and accurate future readings. No matter his background or grandparents, they could not save him if he wished to protect Lucius.
”Ugh, why is he nothing but a headache?” Massaging his temples roughly, Greyson did not see the light at the end of the tunnel at this point. Too many unknown factors and too many ways his potential plans could go wrong unless he was extremely careful. At one point his did think to go to the Wind Altar to ask Rosalie and his friends for help, but Lucius' identity was sensitive. Other than Rosalie, the others could think that keeping Lucius was the best for the tribe. There were a lot of ways to rationalize decisions if you were not killing anyone. Even his family, they could think that Lucius should be locked up at the Dragon Tribe to protect Greyson from potentially dying due to their link. Mention of this was already brought up at his earlier brush with death. However, he knew that Lucius would never want that for his life, and Greyson could not, with good conscience, watch that occur.
”How did they even recognize him?” This was another point that confounded Greyson. This entire time, no one would recognize Lucius. This was not because they were ignorant, but because Destiny Cats looked like many lower level magic beast felines. Two tails, silver fur, and two different colored eyes were surprisingly not as rare as some would think. Especially when one throws variation magic beasts into the mix. The third eye is their only identifiable marker. Pondering this would get him nowhere, so Greyson quickly through it to the back of his mind. All would be revealed when he found his friend again.
”Hah... Nothing is ever easy.” Sighing, Greyson plopped down next to a random tree growing within the grass field. Basking in the rare instance of shade, he leaned against the trunk trying to think of his next moves.
”You know, this might be a lot easier than you think.” Out of nowhere, a voice spoke to him coming from inside his hood. Untying his cloak immediately, Greyson hurled it to the ground. A tiny thud sounded out along with a squawk of pain.
”Ah! Ouch! Now, was that really necessary?” Crawling out from underneath the cloth, a familiar golden body showed itself. Jade green clear eyes stared back looking resentful.
”I told you not to come!” Greyson retorted exasperated.
”Well, you are not the boss of me!”
”Your mom is, though. She would never let you come.”
”I'm not going to listen to her anymore.”
”Don't be immature.” Rolling his eyes, Greyson could not handle this mouse.
”You're the immature one. Scared of my mother, are you? You know I am a reliable and useful ally, but you refuse to use me because you are afraid of my MOTHER. Clearly, you have the dragon bloodline. Somehow, you were born more of a scared mouse than me. How do you survive with such small guts?”
Shocked speechless at the unexpectedly scathing tongue of Theo, Greyson had no answer. It was true that this mouse had many uses, but it was also true that he did not want to anger the tribe leader. Knowing there was no turning back, he just shook his head but decidedly kept his silence. The more he looked at the smug look on Theo's face, the more he burned with vexation. Huffing indignantly, he stomped off in another direction. It was not long before he stopped himself and looked down at his crossed arms in chagrin. Was he regressing in age suddenly? Why did he storm off like this? Breathing slowly for a couple of seconds, he calmed himself down eventually and made his way back to the tree. Unsurprisingly, Theo was still there waiting. Earlier, Snow followed Greyson thinking they were leaving, but now she looked on with confusion as they returned.