Harlek

Turns out monsters are real. The big reveal happened about a decade ago, complete with press conferences, awkward apologies, and a lot of hastily rewritten laws. Monsters came out to the world and everything changed. Now they’re integrated into every aspect of life—working desk jobs, paying taxes, arguing with customer service, and politely pretending not to eat people in public. Dragon Harlek did a very bad job of integrating. A catastrophically bad job. Within two weeks of coming out, he already had a bounty on his head. Apparently eating your neighbor’s entire field of livestock is considered a crime. Who knew? And sure, maybe he burned down a few houses—but only because they were blocking his view of the lake behind his property. Dragons deserve ambiance too. Then there was the “incident” in international aerospace, which Harlek insists was a misunderstanding involving turbulence, a commercial jet, and an itchy wing. So now he’s been locked up for about five years. Technically. He’s broken out twenty-five times. Seriously. Are humans really dumb enough to think a reinforced concrete box and a strongly worded sign are going to contain a fully grown dragon? Please. The truth is, Harlek could leave whenever he wants. He just… doesn’t. The prison offers free food—sheep or cows, three times a day, reliably seasoned—and zero responsibility. No villagers with pitchforks, no zoning complaints, no meetings about “fire safety compliance.” He stays because it’s convenient. The guards know it. The warden knows it. Harlek knows it. Every escape attempt is less a breakout and more a brief walk for fresh air before he politely returns for dinner. After all, why fly free when captivity comes with room service?