The cat creature bustled and hustled out of the open window and towards the garden. He overheard a conversation, as he stood on the roof, of a legend that no man’s ear had ever yet heard.

A young woman, dressed daintilly in red and gold, sat talking to her sister about the strangest of tales: a dragonite from afar. He was likely to dismiss this as nonsense from an old wives tale, but Bubba Yee perked his ears nonetheless.

The young woman in the dark crimson gown bent her head, brunette hair falling behind her ears, ever so preciously over her coffee, as she told the tale of the dragonite to her elder sister.

“I have seen it with my own eyes: the Naxos. A blue dragon from the floating continent who has shape shifting ability,” she said.

“Surely you must be joking!” the dark haired companion siad with ribald laughter.

“I would not tell you fairy stories!” the crimson lady said. ” I read it in the Annals of Marginalia Vol. IX part i. The Naxos is a beast who speaks fluent Cosmou, and he can take the form of a sage.”

“… or wiseacre!” she retorted.

“It was he who related the information of Mithrax’s attack repelled by…”

“Who?” she asked.

“An elf that I cannot remember or recall his name,” she said with a puzzled look.

“Speaking of elves, have you been apprised of how our young green friend is getting along?”

“I suppose better than usual since he was manumitted,” she said.

“I’ve heard that he spends all his days trying to master mathematics and poetry,” the dark-haired woman in navy blue said.

“Nonsense. This fellow is trying to become a white mage. I’ve heard his abortive incantations all day, and frankly, I’m sick of them.”

“Back to Naxos,” said the dark-haired woman.

“What do you know of him?”

“His wisdom is at least partially responsible for the prophecy,” she whispered,

adding, “That’s what Daddy doesn’t want you to know.”

“He always told us that Melchior received the prophecy through a red mage disguised as a beggar woman,” she said.

“Papa is always trying to keep us in the dark,” she said.

Another wizard came a-sauntering in with moxie. He mixed drinks often, and had a red nose from frequent drinking.

“I know the beggar woman,” he stated flatly.

“I think you read too many dragonite novels,” she retorted.

“Adam, don’t be silly.”

Adam had a peak-hat with three corners, scarlet as the late afternoon sunset. His face was like flint, and he screwed his eyes up at the two damsels.

Bubba Yee could hardly believe his luck having run into a real wizard. This fellow could possibly grant his wish to anthropomorphize. He listened intently to the conversation.

“You met her?”

“Well, not to say exactly…” he offered.

“I think you have been dreaming,” she said, staring at the hem of her crimson dress.