Baneck carried a sheathed sword, before the sunrise, as Morgenferrin led him once again through a hidden door of her warehouse, and gaped in amazement, as they passed into a great, expansive chamber of wood and stone.

“Why so surprised?  I told you, this is a special place.”

“Yes, but to see it so much larger on the inside, is incredible,” he said, as he absently looked at the ceiling high above him.

“It’s a magical dimensional space,” she said with a sigh.  “Good for storing a few wares,” she waved a hand at the mounds of gold and treasure piled along the walls, “or if I just want to stretch out a little.”

With that, she went to the side of the room, next to some large, shaped stones set up on stone blocks.  Dutifully, he held the scabbard for her, and she drew the double-edged sword – – Goldslice, as he had named it.

As soon as he took a step back, she took a quick couple of practice swings, then made an expert cut, deep into the nearest block.

Its halves fell away with a clunk.  She held the blade up to the bright lantern-lights, and they could both see, there was no hint of a blemish or even the slightest scratch on the edge.

“When I tried that, it got stuck halfway through.  Had a bit of a struggle getting it out,” he said to her.

She just smiled, and stepped a few yards away after handing the sword back to him.

Baneck heard the cracking, as bones slid and divided, then reformed and grew.  Her neck and face elongated.  Her clothes magically vanished, as wings sprouted from her shoulder blades, and a covering of shiny scales swept over her flesh.

It was a surreal experience – and a privilege, he knew – as he watched her change into her true, massive copper dragon self.

She gave a shake of the frills that ran along her back, and flapped her wings, as she stretched like a cat from snout to tail-tip.

“Ah.  Now then,” she said, in her still-charming human voice.

She walked her bulk right up next to him, and presented her left foreleg.

He laid the sword on her scales, and started sawing back and forth, which proved fruitless.

Then without any further preamble, he took a powerful swing, and struck her as hard as he could.

Goldslice bounced in his grip, but there was no cut made.

“Allow me.”

Showing great dexterity with her giant clawed digits, she took the sword from him, and began fruitlessly slicing and chopping at her own flesh.

Even the point would not penetrate, as she sat back on her haunches, and stabbed herself a few times in the abdomen.

She gave a low chuckle, and held it like a stick in both forepaws, and slowly applied pressure.  Her scales bristled as her muscles rippled like coiled steel in her effort to break it like a stick.  All to no avail, as the enchantment to make the sword unbreakable proved as strong as that to keep it from harming a dragon.

She held it aloft and roared with laughter.

“Well done!”  She looked down at him.  “Truly it’s worth the price.”

He smiled in return, arms crossed over his chest, genuinely pleased with the results.

“Is that good enough for your clients?”

“And then some,” she said, flipping it like a dagger.  “So, young man.  Are you going to start making Fawnlum’s sword now?”

“Yes, I think I will.”

<*>                                                          <*>                                                      <*>

Late that night, as Morgy had been too excited to wait, her beating wings carried her and her parcel away from home to the east, into Calador, bearing toward East Osterly.  Her fiery blood ran cold, however, as she approached the giant, cursed Cloud which had been looming in the distance.

Now as she was almost upon it, she did not need her own sensitivity to magic, to tell her some great and foul enchantment was at work.

She wanted to reach her objective; but she dare not fly through it, and be exposed to such aberrant powers.  Quickly, she circumnavigated.

Only a part of the Cloud was hanging over her final destination, as she rounded its northeast edge, and dove below it.

The old trees had grown well since she was last here, she noted, as she touched down at the southwest border of the enchanted forest of Castletree.

She made no move, as she knew the eyes were already trained on her.

After a couple minutes, two elf sentries walked out from the trees toward her, armed with bow and sword, standing between her and the ancient bastion.

“Put down your weapon, Alander.  You know me.”

“And you,” the elf with the bow replied, “know to assume your other form when coming here.”

Not that she needed to mar this visit with hostilities, but it was fun to walk with her full curves in plain display, in the realm of the slender and lissome elves.

With her bundle over her shoulder, and her escort fore, aft and to the sides, she welcomed the attention.  As a grand and impressive dragon, it was her place to enjoy the attention of others, after all.

The guarded glances of apprehension and uneasiness, though, were etched on every face.  She could not guess what threat the magical Cloud might pose to the elves and their kingdom.  And as plainly showed, neither could they.

A gentle radiance other than the sun usually permeated this haven.   But the evil aura in the sky had cast a dulling on even that.

In short order, Morgenferrin was brought before the royal residence, where stood a majestically powerful elf, with hair as black as night, skin as fair as wind, and piercing blue eyes.

“Greetings, Lord Shrehvone Stellinare, ruler of Castletree and keeper of the eternal light.  Where are all your brethren?  There are fewer elves walking these cobblestones than there should be.”

“That’s none of your business, dragon,” said a young elf woman of the same features, walking to stand on Shrehvone’s left side.

“I would say, Princess Althea, your father can be a better judge of that, given my ties to your people.”

“Our people,” Shrehvone calmly replied, “have faced darkness before.”

“The singing rings clear and strong,” Morgy said, looking toward the center of the elf-home.  “Every voice is working,” she surmised, “to keep at bay the darkness that has settled over your neighbors.”

“But whatever magical thing you carry in that sack,” the elf king told her, with near levity, “do you consider it greater than our light, which is even more eternal than the dragons?”

“Your senses are as sharp as ever, my lord.  And yes, I offer you a boon today, for sometimes help is needed, even where the light shines brightest.”