Even with the sky gone, the night was beautiful.

Y’lryyg had always appreciated the vastness of the night sky. The way the stars shone against the void reminded them of deep caves dotted with bioluminescent lichen and glowing beetles. They had figured that was what kept the Nightkin going, that familiarity of home. I might have made a good Nightkin, Y’lryyg thought. Y’lryyg looked at their pale scales and sighed. No melancholy, no disappointment, just the end of a thought. Just a recognition that the will of the dragons had other plans; but even proud Tripptrapps could wonder what life might have been.

Y’lryyg poked at the fire. It smoldered without enough oxygen to really keep itself going. They were running out of time. At least it smelled nice.

“Y’lryyg?” came a voice from behind. Even now, Y’lryyg could recognize it; Y’lryyg liked to think they were good at recognizing voices. Without prompting, Vynniel took a seat by the dying fire. The pair of them sat for a while, listening to the wood pop. Vynniel spoke again, “you’re up late.”
“Kobolds are night creatures,” Y’lryyg said. It felt nice to speak in draconic; to not have to justify the end of a thought.
Vynniel nodded. “I knew that,” she replied. “But you’re awake during the day now. With the party, I mean.”
“So my behavior is odd.” Y’lryyg nodded. “Y’lryyg cannot sleep. Too much on Y’lryyg’s mind.”

A short distance away, a sleeping Boof made a loud whine and rolled over in the dirt. Y’lryyg looked over. He was running in his sleep.

“I get that,” agreed Vynniel. She grabbed a stick and poked at the fire.
Y’lryyg looked back at her. They might not have been smart, but social intelligence was important to kobolds. Vynniel had much on her mind too; pain, by the look of it. “You know,” Y’lryyg started, “Kobolds have important words of wisdom.”
Vynniel stared at Y’lryyg, an eyebrow raised.
“Not that dragon needs kobold wisdom, but might help with Master Vynniel’s thoughts, yes?” Y’lryyg attempted a smile. Vynniel nodded slowly, curious enough to see what Y’lryyg had to say. Y’lryyg cleared their throat. “Important to remember that in life, the living are rats in narrow tunnels.”

“…What?”

Y’lryyg chuckled. It wasn’t the first time they had received that response. “Rats cannot move backwards. If rats cannot turn around, rats can only move forward. Have to chew or dig through obstacles. Face problems with head, yes?”

“Head on,” Vynniel corrected.
Y’lryyg shrugged, “same meaning.”

The quiet returned. Y’lryyg got up briefly to add more fuel to the embers. Vynniel kept trying to let enough air in for it to ignite properly. The night was cold without the sky.

“Y’lryyg wishes to ask a question,” said Y’lryyg. They dug into their pockets and held out a few gold coins. Vynniel looked surprised. She took the coins with some hesitation, then nodded. “Why does Master Vynniel wish to make kobolds independent?”

Y’lryyg didn’t notice Vynniel’s glance at the shackles on their tail and ankle. They didn’t notice the small twitch at the corner of Vynniel’s mouth. The subtlety of human expression was easily lost on kobolds. Vynniel was grateful for that.

“Because, I don’t know? It’s the right thing to do?”

Y’lryyg did notice the evasive tone in Vynniel’s speech. They shrunk down, just a bit, and turned their attention back to the fire. Vynniel frowned, then tapped one of the coins on Y’lryyg’s shoulder.

“Why did you want to be a squire?”

Y’lryyg took the coin and pocketed it. The stretched and scratched at the back of their head before making themself comfortable in the dirt. “Y’lryyg’s position is not lost on Y’lryyg. Kobolds learn pride in service. Kobolds learn dependency on dragons. Good Kobolds are left mostly alone, ignored except for tribute. We function fairly independently. We have complex social structure. We work together to survive.” Y’lryyg looked back up at the stars and the space dust. They breathed in the scent of the fire. They let their mind go to a far off place while they spoke. “Kobolds are proud of what we do, but world has little respect for Kobolds.”

“Y’lryyg saw a vision of Y’lryyg-self in a gem in magic cavern. Deep in Underdark, on expedition with Unit. Y’lryyg saw self in shiny armor with fancy weapon. Saw pride in Y’lryyg’s eyes. Understood then what Y’lryyg really wanted.” Y’lryyg looked down at their feet, eyes pausing on a series of acid holes burnt into their tunic. They ran a gentle hand over the holes, humming softly, and in no time, the clothes looked good as new.

When things got too quiet, Y’lryyg kept talking, “Now look at Y’lryyg. Reputation crashed into dirt. Traitor to Kobold-Dragon relationship. Ally of flatfaces. Loser of world ending weapons. Destroyer of sky. Y’lryyg has failed many challenges.” Y’lryyg looked over at the mountain in the sky, at the gaping maw within the earth where it once sat, at the ruins of the monestary.
“Y’lryyg…” Vinneal started. Y’lryyg held up a single finger.
“But Y’lryyg is rat in narrow tunnel. If Y’lryyg keeps going Y’lryyg might die, yes? But if Y’lryyg stops, Y’lryyg will surely die.”

Y’lryyg stood up and brushed off their tunic. “Y’lryyg might have failed, but there is always chance for Y’lryyg to find success; for Y’lryyg to do right thing.”

Y’lryyg bowed, slightly, then turned to head over to a snoring Boof. Vynniel turned back to the fire after watching Y’lryyg head off.
A beat, and then: “Master Vynniel? Forgive Y’lryyg for friendliness, but you should sleep. Mercy will worry if Master Vynniel is awake all night.”

Vynniel didn’t answer, and Y’lryyg didn’t bother looking back.