The Bird and the Wyrm-Chapter 50: Search & Discovery

Misha had attacked the wardrobe in the bed-less room first, hoping to get a quick win so he could get back to Bran, but he hadn’t had such luck. That room, while clearly belonging to someone who was definitely not Bran, didn’t have anything to indicate who it belonged to.

Misha checked all the clothes for name tags and ’if found, return to address’es, but had turned up nothing.

There was no list of addresses pinned to the fridge by a magnet or similar list by the phone, nor any misdirected mail, so the dragon turned his attention to Bran’s bedroom.

Surely he’d be able to find something...

Misha flipped through the photo album. At this point he would have been excited to just find a photograph of this elusive aunt... He stopped and quickly turned back a page.

He’d spotted something.

In the middle of the page, between snaps of a gate with dramatic birds carved on either side and a profile image of a dog was a slightly faded image of a woman and a teenage boy.

The woman Misha didn’t recognise, but the boy he would have recognised anywhere.

It was Bran.

He was younger, probably younger than Misha was now, with unruly dark brown hair and a solemn glare. There was just too much information in one photo. Not only did Misha finally get to see what Bran looked like with his natural hair colour, but he was also reminded of that vision of stoic looking children he’d seen from the demon blade.

What did that mean?

He couldn’t even begin to guess, so he set that aside and turned his attention to the woman. She was shorter than Bran but only barely with a long plait of greying hair looped around her neck. She looked about middle aged though Misha wasn’t sure if that really was her age or if it was a reflection of the life she led.

The pair were dressed in serious hiking gear and behind them were the crests of endless snow capped mountains. Misha felt cold just looking at the photo.

Cold and excited.

"Colin!" Misha called out and the little man raced into the room. He’d been assigned looking through the bookshelves for any books with addresses and the like.

Misha turned the album for Colin to look at.

"Bring me anything with her in it too," he said and pulled out another biscuit from his pocket and handed it over.

Colin saluted, took the biscuit, and raced off again.

Misha turned and looked out the window. It was past midday and Bran still hadn’t eaten. Misha clapped his hands to his face then immersed himself again in looking through the albums. He was getting closer, he knew it!

--

An hour later and Misha was no closer to figuring out even Bran’s aunt’s name, let alone where she was.

Mini Colin had used up all of the excess magical energy (likely from the scuffle with the bell boy and librarian) that had accidentally activated the spell paper to bring him to life again, so it was just Misha sitting in the middle of the mess of books and knickknacks.

He was getting low on patients and his anxiety about Bran being hungry kept going up and up. Perhaps he should just leave now, get back to Bran, then use the tent as a gateway to get back here to search again later.

Misha closed his eyes and sat up very straight as he thought this through. Yes, it was likely his best option. Not optimal, but the best among mediocre options.

He opened his eyes and gathered up all the papers in front of him into a rough pile then shuffled them together into a semi-neat stack.

It would probably be a good idea to categorise what he’d already gone through, then...

A thought meandered in one of his ears and he stopped his shuffling.

There was a lot of traditional, paper-based correspondence among the deluge of paperwork kept in one of the chests in one of the bookshelves in the living room, and while none of them had any addresses (frustratingly enough) they were in fact handwritten.

Which meant Misha could use a compass jar spell thing to track Bran’s aunt’s whereabouts, just like how Bran had done to find the little girl’s grandfather way back when. All he needed, was a bit of this elusive aunt’s handwriting, and he had a lot of that.

Misha quickly sat up and tossed apart the semi-neat column of papers and found that one letter he had in mind. Along with not having any addresses, few of the letters had any names (not to mention most were in Chinese) but there was one that Misha was absolutely sure was written by this aunt to Bran.

Misha’s hand darted in like a crane and fished out the piece of paper. It didn’t look especially old (no browning edges or anything like that) but the way the paper crinkled and resisted being unfolded told Misha that it had been written and folded up quite some time ago. freёweɓnovel_com

I know you are still angry, and to speak truth, I do not understand why. I think this lack of understanding angers you further still. That foresight should at least tell you that I am not yet senile.

I told you to do what you wanted, that I would not care. While anger still courses through me now, I do now regret those words. We are not bound by blood, but we are bound by fate. No matter what occurs in the future

The letter stopped there and there was no second page.

Why had Bran and his aunt fought? From their interactions, Misha had gotten the sense that while Bran sometimes got annoyed with his aunt, he deeply respected her and wouldn’t become this enraged for no reason.

It made Misha even more curious about Bran’s past.

But one thing that he did know, was that since the letter was unfinished, then that made it even more likely that it had been written by the aunt.

So the humanoid dragon got up, letter in hand, and began to gather the tools needed to make that compass jar spell.

--

I was surprised how easy it was for me to find the spot I’d left you on the mountain. I’d been expecting to have to wander around for quite a while, but I somehow knew where you and that pagoda was instinctively.

Was it because you’d drunk my blood? Were you like a mosquito and infected me with something when you did that?

I wondered that and more as I circled down into my dragon-made mist. I’d made an invisibility charm to hang around my neck but every time I checked the mirror, I could still see myself to instead I opted to just fly out again.

Risky, but I was feeling confident, especially now that I had a bouncing compass jar rattling away in the bag slung over my shoulders. It turns out, backpacks work equally well on dragons if you can get their forelimbs to bend round enough.

I had the packed away camping tent and mostly clothes and food in the bag, since I figured the rest I could just nip back later to get, and I was thinking about what to cook for you when my feet hit the ground.

Your blond head popped up in the centre of the pagoda and the distinct smell of burning hit my nose.

Without thinking, I transformed back into a human and rushed over to see what had gone wrong.

As it turned out, nothing had. You were just cooking mushrooms.

You raised a thin stick with mushrooms skewered along it from the fire and held it out to me.

"Food," you said. Then, after seeing me hesitate, you added, "Not poisonous."

I blinked and shook my head then smiled. "You can cook," I said and leaned over and bit off one of the mushrooms.

Maybe it was just me, but I thought I saw something flit across your eyes like something had just occurred to you.

You gave me the whole skewer then looked away. "Clothes."

I immediately turned to rush back to the backpack I’d left lying on the ground, then stopped and turned back. "You’re embarrassed," I said, using the skewer to point at you.

You turned more resolutely away and said nothing.

I couldn’t help smiling, but it wasn’t because I meant to tease you. "I’m glad," I said. "That means you’re getting better."

Clothes freshly donned, I sat down next to the little fire you’d put together in the centre of the pagoda and together we ate not just mushrooms but also some bread and canned soup. One of the non-negotiable items I’d stuffed first into the bag was a highly versatile cooking pot.

And so, despite our rather desperate situation, out in the middle of the mountains with just each other for company, we enjoyed our meal and even spotted a rainbow after the sky cleared up.

I hadn’t felt like I’d been gone for a long time, but before I knew it, the sky was already starting to go orange and pink as the sun dipped towards the horizon.

"Check out what I brought," I said, getting up from the stone bench next to you and bringing over the backpack.

You quietly watched as I set up the small camping tent then obediently ducked your head inside the flap as I demonstrated how it could connect back to the flat.

"But I thought it would probably be best to leave the charm off most of the time just in case and just put it on when we need to get something," I said as I zipped the flap closed and removed the charm. "Alright," I unzipped the flap again and held it open, "you can sleep in here. There’s no much room. I’ll sleep as a dragon, okay?"

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