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***STORY DESCRIPTION*** This is the first entry in a potential series that is going to go in-depth about all sorts of dragon lore, magic, what happened between humans and dragons in the past and why they hate each other in the present.
Anyway, there will be more on that later on. Right now we should focus on what we have here. If magic, fantasy and romance are to your liking, please consider buying the book! It's a rather long (29k words) story that has more adventure than anything I've written. And what's better than uncovering the secret of magic on your own? Doing it with a witty, charming dragoness! You're going to love Ilyniel so much you'll want to keep her to yourselves. I know that from personal experience, believe me, and from an author that wrote so many other stories, that's saying something.
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***STORY STARTS BELOW***
"Mink? That's my task?" Rykel took a step to the left, then back to the right, before throwing the man an incredulous look. "You really mean it, don't you? You want ME to talk to the stinkiest, meanest rat that graces our territory just because the weather is fine? He'll skulk back in the sewers first chance he gets when the storms roll in."
"Mink is good informant. He's a man of his word, if you know how to approach him," Sergei dipped his head just enough to let his dense beard scratch at his neck. "Go talk to him if you want words and don't bother me. I have work to do."
"I don't want mere words. I want a particular kind of words, I want information!" Rykel hissed. His hands dug into his short cropped hair for a moment before they slipped down his brow to cover his face. "Gods, you really have nothing to give me, do you?"
"Mink. That's your task." Sergei repeated. "We done here, Rykel?" He waved a hand to one of his boys. The black haired one with stick arms and a droopy face hastily obeyed. Sergei slapped a hand on his shoulder and whispered some words.
Words! The bastard wanted to speak, only not to Rykel.
The man's narrow, ebony eyes followed the boy as he ran to the pile of crates. He rummaged through the trash, then brought out some dead animal. Sergei snatched it with a satisfied smile and dug his face into the thing.
"God's breath, man. That's a feckin' corpse you're sniffing!" Rykel twisted his head away from its heavy reek.
"Others may consider it such, yes," Sergei pulled on the creature's belly. "But this underneath is fine leather. You will do ten missions before you find yourself putting this on your stick thrower."
Rykel barely resisted the urge to grab the bow tied at his back and swat this bastard with it. "My stick pierced more mages than you can count."
"Mhm. Maybe true. Maybe not," Sergei said. "Don't want to count, unless that involves merchandise or coin," he then turned around, regarding the rest of his merchandise while he rubbed his fluffy weasel. "Go on your task already. I gave you assignment."
"You gave me shit clad in lace and smeared with honey. That's what you gave me," Rykel whispered under his breath. Good thing Sergei didn't hear. Disputes with him took ages. No wonder the man was so fat. He barely even moved! Food was brought in by his boys, messages were carried by his henchmen, and missions were completed by trackers like Rykel.
He turned towards the exit. Blood surged through his temples, along with a faint trace of spite. Anger was a dangerous thing to wield inside the Subterfuge. Too many conflicts started over petty squabbles. Just yesterday Rykel saw a newcomer gutted right in front of his eyes because he didn't use the proper name for Maron. He called him boss. Maron hated that. It constantly reminded him of how many tasks he had to attend, a dull affair compared to feasting and whoring, so he showed that unlucky sod just how deep his anger could pierce.
Rykel bit back whatever irritation he harbored. He forced it deep within himself for later use and went through the main door of his establishment. The Shady Alleys extended before him, with slime to fill the crevices between the cobbles and grime smearing the walls around him. His boots splashed in the murky puddles, and his nose scrunched every time a fetid wave of smell blew from the dilapidated buildings. Urchins stored whatever little they had in the nooks and crannies, thinking nobody found them. That was true for people, but not for the bugs, worms, or whatever vile creatures fed on the waste.
Heat made the stench even harder to endure. Rykel quickened his steps. He arranged his coat, combed his mangy hair with a hand, and made sure the bow was secured on his back as he emerged on the dusty roads of Yrenay. The market district was the first place he visited. Merchants of all kinds placed their wares along linear paths for the crowd's jittery eyes to inspect.
And there were so many of them. The place was packed today. If a merchant dropped his prices on a single item, everyone followed. It was such a stupid, thoughtless tactic that bred more agitation than joy.
Rykel pushed his way through the vibrant crowd. The smells were pungent and vivid compared to the slums. Sweet mixed with spicy in an irritating concoction that made Rykel's eyes water and sting. He took in a sharp breath and turned right. A woman screamed in his wake, but he had no time for pleasantries. He vaulted over booths and slinked between barrels, cutting his way towards the western corner of the market.
"Mink!"
The spindly man turned his nervous gaze to him, then back to the wretch he was trading with. Rykel frowned. In two steps, he reached that stinky beggar and pushed him so hard he stumbled all the way into fair Elen's tailoring emporium.
"That was a customer!" Mink sneezed and rubbed his nose. "You either buy what he would have bought or..."
Rykel grabbed the wretch by the narrow collar of his tunic and squeezed, tight enough for the man's eyes to bulge like ripe berries. "I'm a customer too, Mink, just not the kind you like! And you will give me what I seek."
"You're a bastard, is what you are. It hurts!"Mink tried to shake out of Rykel's grip, even flailed his frail arms around like it actually made a difference.
Rykel maintained a steadfast grip on his prey. "Let's call this an unfortunate incident of necessity. We both know you are going to run if I let you free."
"Won't. Won't!" Mink squeaked, becoming as jittery as his restless eyes. They never remained still. Always moving. Always searching.
Rykel squeezed harder, until the wretch's head was liberated from thoughts of escape.
Rykel leaned his head forward and held his breath against the stench. "Those mages that came to you this morning, where did they go?"
"East!" Mink squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clattering with agony. "Pppplease, jjjust...."
"Are you sure?"
He moved his head up and down almost as fast as he blinked.
"What were they searching?"
"Don't know. Never told."
Rykel released the trapped rat. He fell backwards, trampling over his broken crates.
"Thank you, Mink. Always knew I can do business with a man of honor."
"Gods rape that ugly ass of yours, you feckin, bastard, lice ridden dog!'
"Would, if they existed."
"You're a stingy bastard. You owe me three cats. Three!'
"I owed you five," Rykel chuckled. He evaded the crate flung at him and ran away before that red haired wretch managed to get his bearings. Mink was a lot more agile than he looked, and that patched head of his held enough sanity inside to make him a decent informer. Too bad he never had a sense of honor and place. A mage could have bought Mink with something as drab as a fake coin, and the weasel spilled everything from his mouth. That's where the Subterfuge intervened. Some informers required constant reminders of their allegiance, and that was why rough approaches always worked better with Mink.
Rykel made his way towards the King's alley, then headed towards the city's gate. He paid the traveler's fee to the guards. They handled him a shawl with the city's emerald gryphon emblazoned on it and settled him on the way towards the east. Rykel followed the dirt road for almost half a day before encountering his mage party. The smell of spiced meat filled the evening breeze. The portly bastards not only made camp out in the open, but they made their presence known to all the creatures roaming around. It was little surprise that a serpent descended from the sky, heading straight towards their little bonfire.
Rykel crouched in the tall grass a reasonable distance away from the camp. He expected the dragon to roar or show off its lustrous hide like the rest of its stupid kin. Those bastards always loved to show off.
This one didn't. A blast of fire surged from its maw, washing over the group below. The mages raised ice shields and barriers against the firestorm, chanting and barking at each other. The dragon whirled in the air and touched the ground. The earth trembled under its paws, splintering and forking under the group of men.
Shouts, yells and screams came one after the other. They launched spell after spell, only to be countered and deflected by the dragon's deft paws. It unleashed waves of blazing flame, shards of crystal ice, and gusts of savage winds before finishing off the group with a thunderous roar. A blinding flash split the sky apart, falling right on top of the camp.
Rykel slowly crawled back. If that was lightning he saw, then he had to get out of here, and fast. Surge weavers had control over most elements, and their heightened senses could pick up the slightest trace of magic.
The dragon suddenly turned its head around. Rykel remained frozen in place, heart thrumming in his chest. Did it see him? The creature's throat rumbled with a muffled growl.
Silence followed shortly after. Rykel pushed the grasses aside to see the serpent walk towards the charred campsite, its fluffy tail tip fluttering in the warm breeze.
"Fly away, you scaly bastard. There's nothing to see there aside from roasted fat," Rykel whispered under his breath.
The dragon vehemently disagreed, growling what resembled to be the moan of a bear. It lowered its head and shuffled through the remains, pushing with either a paw or its own snout through the remains. Rykel frowned. Scavenging knew no bounds, if even flying serpents gifted with enormous powers resorted to a little bit of thievery, then the world truly was a gloomy place.
"Oy, mate! The heck are you after? Just bloody fly and leave us to do our human things!" Rykel hissed, wiping the sweat from his brow.
That pesky dragon was truly insistent. It circled the camp twice before it lifted that proud head from the ground. It looked around, sneezed, rubbed its snout against a lifted forepaw, then placed it back on the ashen soil. With a single leap, it vaulted into the sky, twisting into a ribbon of glistening gold as it soared towards the clouds.
Rykel waited until its sinuous form vanished above the clouds. He picked himself up with a groan, shaking the dust off his arse.
"Thrice damned scale-nibbler. Fly where it wants, kills who it wants, takes what it wants. If only I'll get an arrow through those proud eyes of his, I can call this a bloody good day. Yeah. I'll get that stupid weasel from Sergei and make myself a better bow."
That thought provided warm consolation to the spite brewing inside Rykel. He approached the scorched camp, scattered the ashes with his foot in search of a talisman, or at least a pendant, and left when he found only melted metal.
Rykel walked through the midday heat until his shirt hugged his soaked skin. He wiped his face with the scarf, then tucked it inside a pocket for safekeeping. Rogues were a bloody menace around these parts, and the seeker patrols even more so. No scarf meant instant death.
Rykel took his shirt off too, wrapped it around his head to keep the burning sun from frying his brains, and continued his arduous trek through the dry plains. The heat subdued when the sun set, bringing a dust filled breeze upon the golden grasses. They swished and crumpled under Rykel's feet. Or at least some of them did. The spiked or tangled bushes latched on to his burned leather pants or tripped his legs, making him curse and groan. It was still better than walking with a soft cloth to cover his legs. If he had anything less than leather, the vegetation would've cut his legs bloody.
"Guess I have to thank Mink for that," Rykel wet his throat with a gulp from his water skin. "East. That's the only bloody word that bastard had to say. No dragons, no magic birds, no bandits. Just East. Follow the mages. Well, the mages are fockin' dead, and I'm only left with sweat on me skin and a stupid dragon to chase. The fock did it want anyway? Even the stupidest scale-brains don't engage group of mages like that. This one must've been special, searching something, wanting some precious thing it failed to find..."
The sky bruised to a deep purple when Rykel finished mumbling like an idiot. Fiery clouds sheltered the sun within their bosom, a stark contrast to the darkness rising ahead of Rykel. The ground flattened to perfection, only to sprout trees, bushes, and who knows what manner of beasts ahead of him.
Rykel lowered himself onto his rump with a groan. He refreshed himself with toughened meat and two loaves of hard bread. Maybe a forest was not the right place to venture in just before nightfall.
"And why's that?" Rykel chuckled, waving his bread towards the barrier of trees. "Are the spooky spirits of the forest going to molest me? Am I a whore in heat to attract wicked beasts?"
He laughed at that, and roared even louder when the thought of that sun-scaled dragon crossed his mind. "I'm going to make myself a vest out of that one. Maybe I'll even give it a name, like it is proper. Dawnmail, Blazetouch." He laughed at the ridiculousness of the names, shook his head and continued his lonely feasting.
With high spirits and refreshed eagerness, Rykel ventured into the depths of the forest. It was unreasonably dark in there. Vegetation never had any pattern, and Rykel hated to wobble and sway like a drunkard.
"SparkShard," he dug out a translucent crystal from his pocket and gave it a good poke. "Light my way, love."
Nothing happened.
"Come on. You can do this, dear," he tried again, and again, getting the same disheartening result. "Just freakin' work you stupid piece of glass!"
He slapped it just like he would a woman, with eagerness and conviction. The crystal flared with an intense, flaming glow. Rykel held it within his palm, smiling at the pleasant warmth seeping into his flesh. If only he had the sense to bring more heat storing crystals.
He grumbled, took an arrow from his quiver and stuck the crystal upon the metal tip. With slow steps and measured breaths, Rykel shuffled through the dark woods. Most beasts feared light, yet there were a few of them who felt drawn to magic. Gifted ones like the dragon he met. The Sundering eliminated most of those. Humans called it a balance of power. They were almost driven extinct by beasts, and now the scale shifted in their favor. With powerful magic and the necessary wits to wield it, the humans took claim of every patch of land known to them.
Rykel's tongue dashed across his parched lips to wet them. He remembered his mother's voice talking about that little piece of history. Mages seemed such selfless figures back then. Rykel named them guardians and protectors, saviors of their kin. If he knew back then what human greed and ambition were capable of, perhaps he could have done something. Maybe he could have talked his father out of his madness before...before he...
"Gah," Rykel hissed as he brushed his shoulder against a tree. "Past has passed. You know better than burdening yourself with that, you sorry sod."
He blinked twice and shifted his thoughts back to his surroundings. A gentle breeze blew through the forest, forcing his hairs to stay on end. The chill of the night had quite a nasty bite. Rykel put his shirt back on. It was still bloody cold, so he increased his strides to work some blood into his muscles. He pushed through the vegetation, snapping twigs and pushing through bushes until he froze in his tracks.
Something unnatural lay nearby. Rykel looked around, breath held between his clenched jaws. Whatever it was, it rubbed against something. And by the sound of it, something wet. He advanced with measured steps.
The vegetation thinned. Dark fronds gave way to a clearing, and in turn that clearing revealed the nature of the beast.
It had a long, sinuous body with gently curving spikes running along the spine. They got smaller towards the tail, a long thing with a whole load of fur at the tip. The fur bore the same color as the creature's mane, a soft hue of cream compared to its golden hide.
Rykel fought hard to suppress the rush that overtook his senses. He pulled hard on the string, holding it in a taut grip as he slowly made his way around the dragon. Its tongue slid along the stretched fingers of a forepaw in slow, careful strokes, traveling between each digit before sliding towards the snow white tips of his claws. He was distracted, defenseless, and totally unaware of the danger looming a few feet away.
A hunter could not get a better chance than this. Rykel's eyes rushed from head to tail, trying to find an exploitable weakness amidst the dragon's scaly hide. The paws were hardly a good target, soft scaled as they were. The creature's neck was well protected too, and no ears were visible under the wicked spikes dashing towards the dragon's nape.
"Your breath is too loud," a feminine voice spoke, soft as silk.
Rykel's throat tightened. He pursed his lips, face reddening under the lack of air. If he remained silent, maybe...
"The hunter learns, but he still stinks like prey left in the sun."
It had some nerve, speaking without even sparing a glance.
"Approach. Let me see the face of the one who unsuccessfully stalked me."
"It will be the last face you see, love. I only need one good shot to get myself a shiny golden vest," Rykel hissed between clenched teeth and stepped out of his cover, bow held firmly within his steel-like grip.
"Then why linger? Shoot your stick. See if your metal is stronger than my scales." She licked her paw again, tongue flickering inside her maw.
Rykel wanted to. He just couldn't find a bloody spot to bury his arrow into, and the dragon kept licking with that restless, slurping tongue.
Rykel squinted as beads of sweat crept through his furrowed brow. "Can you just fockin lay on your side or something? I want to make this painless for you. Roars and wails and dying screams give me headaches."
"That's quite considerate of you." She licked her paw again, and again, the rasping sound of tongue against scales ringing within Rykel's ears.
Rykel blinked. The string tensed around his half numb fingers. "It is, aye. Better than what those mages got. They screamed enough to give me enough headaches for a week."
"They deserved it."
"Stop talking," Rykel hissed. "Next time you say another word, I will decorate your pretty hide with some extra shinies."
She turned her head around instead. That big, spiked head of hers had two emerald eyes embedded on each side of her angular snout. They shimmered in the dark, just like her scales. Trails of golden vapors escaped from her hide to disperse into the surrounding air. Rykel had enough wits to know such display was not just for show. The dragoness' senses were so heightened, she could have obliterated his arrow as soon as it fled the bow if she wanted to.
"You take so long. Do you plan on hunting or going to sleep? Because that last choice is sorely tempting," she spoke softly.
"I'm thinking, searching. There's a difference."
"That explains why you're so lean."
Rykel bit his lip and raised his bow at her nonsensical words. "If I'm doing this, I'm doing it clean, love. Would be a shame to drag you back to Yrenay with your pierced eye sputtering all over my leggings."
"So you are planning on pulling that string, after all." she flicked her tail along her wan belly.
"No," Rykel shook his head and smiled. "Planning goes before making a decision. I already made mine."
The dragoness dipped her head. "Forgive my assumption. I was under the impression those trembling fingers of yours could not even hold the string straight."
"I'm focusing, you dumb beast!"
"Keep focusing then," she dropped on her side. Her lithe fingers spread, then clutched at the air, releasing all tension trapped within. A soft growl escaped between her parting jaws, soft and relaxed as she fully exposed her wan belly to him. She really did not care at all. This was the cockiest, most annoying scale-nibbler Rykel had the misfortune of encountering.
"Don't forget the tail, love," Rykel scoffed, kicking its fluffy tip. "Wouldn't want it to catch a cold."
The dragoness licked her snout. She adjusted her head until she found a comfortable spot, then brought her tail between her lithe paws. She grabbed hold of its tip with a front leg, chin rested right on top of that bushy fluff.
"Comfortable, aye?"
"Quite so," the dragoness replied lazily. "Enough to let you think or search for that vulnerable spot however long you want."
Rykel released a monstrous groan. He lowered his bow, winced when his fingers left the string, then hid his arm behind his back to mask the pain. "Glad to see you're warm and snuggly. Wouldn't want to die tired like most of our kin."
Rykel got no answer. Not that he expected one. He crouched and walked around the dragon. Scales were everywhere: on its belly, tail, paws, even around the crevice between its legs. Rykel squinted his eyes and approached. He realized the dragon was female, though a closer look never harmed. Her slit was long, narrow, and excruciatingly tight. If their species bred like most animals, then Rykel failed to imagine how a male could push through that wall of packed, jagged scales.
Push through. Steel. Arrows. Rykel lowered his eyes upon his bow and scoffed. Piercing a dragoness right through her sex? That had to be the most ridiculous way of slaying a beast, implying she died. Rykel had a single shot. Just one, before he forfeited his life to the clawed paws clutched around the dragon's warm belly.
"So that's it then?" He stood up with a groan. "We'll sit here, rest like babes in their mother's arms and pretend we're friends?"
"I don't pretend, human," the dragoness said. "You can throw your metals at me, speak your words and disturb the silence. Nothing will make me care any more about you," the dragoness coiled around herself with a long, satisfied sigh. She prepared to take a nap before the discussion was even over.
Rykel pursed his lips and walked away. He could not handle such vanity. The blasted beast was right. She was practically untouchable, as most of those accursed mages. They took everything for granted, with those fancy powers of theirs and the legion of servants they bought or forced into servitude. Rykel hated them all, though none rose above smug beasts such as this dragoness.
Rykel searched for a few twigs, then sat down and broke them right near her lengthy neck. The snaps made her tail twitch. Good. She had a weak spot, after all.
Snap! Snap!
A hind leg dug into the dirt.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Her toes curled, and her upper lip trembled with irritation.
Rykel grabbed all twigs and shattered them on his knee.
The dragoness hissed, a long and terrible shrill cold as the sky above them.
To Rykel's ears, that was the most beautiful song he ever heard. A wide smile stretched across his lips, filled with the sweet taste of victory. "You do care, after all."
"Leave."
"That's rude. I'm the visitor here. Didn't your parents teach you some manners?"
"The dirt under my paws holds more weight than human principles. Move those stunted feet, or-"
"Or what?" Rykel pointed a stick at her. "Roast me? Claw me? Eat me alive?"
She got on her paws much faster than it was expected from a beast of her size.
"I will carry you, human," she advanced towards him, spine tense, paws bent just enough so her belly remained slightly above the ground.
"Carry me? What, should I also give you a saddle too?" Rykel scoffed drily. He had to pretend he wasn't intimidated by her piercing eyes. Had to bury the slithering coldness of fear inside him. If he showed any signs of weakness, he was dead. That much was certain.
The dragoness inched closer.
"Break these tense steps, love. It's been a while since I was scared of horses. Last stallion that dropped me earned an arrow straight between his ripe melons. Do you want to know what happened after?" he threw her a wide, beaming smile.
The dragoness revealed the tips of her sharp, terrifying fangs. "You think you know fear, human?" The dragoness hissed. "I will take you so high in the sky until you foul yourself, then drop back so quickly your stomach will stick in your throat. You will writhe on the ground for hours, like a small, helpless hatchling."
Rykel laughed. "Sounds like my kind of riding. Can we do it now?"
The dragoness surged forward.
"Wait wait wait."
She dug her claws into the ground, stopping just shy away from his upraised arm.
"Speak," her nostrils flared with irritation.
Rykel blinked hard. For such a vile creature, her warm breath felt quite delightful. It rolled in waves around his hand, seeping into his skin.
"Listen to this," Rykel wet his lips. "I will spare us both the troubles of flying and fouling by giving you the chance to leave."
"Leave?" the dragoness drew her head back and growled.
Her breath smelled like scorched earth after a rain. Rykel forced back his gag reflex and coughed instead.
"Yeah. Leave. You will find the plains more accommodating to your paws."
"No chance. I came here first, human."
"And you can be the first to leave too. Explore. It's a wide world out there."
"How about..." she opened her maw and flicked her lengthy tongue around the pointy tips of her fangs before snapping her jaws shut. "What about no?"
She had so many teeth! An entire row sprouted from each jaw, tall and jagged and more wicked than his arrows. Rykel looked towards her nostrils to prevent his panic from taking over.
"I'm afraid denials don't work with me. You have to leave. Now."
"You should be, human. Very afraid, in fact. I met your kind. Touched them. Smelled them. Tasted them," she approached closer to his head. "Do you want to know how your kin tastes when I feast on them?"
Rylkel looked to the side and held his breath. "Quite=quite wrong, lady dragon. I am afraid! Your claws and your teeth are most intimidating. The mere thought of all those poor sods that lost their lives between them makes me..." Rykel suddenly stopped.
"Makes you what?" the dragoness tilted her head.
"Terrified."
She was upon him before he could blink. A forepaw pressed the air out of his chest while her teeth slowly filled his field of vision. They were wet, slimy, and sharpened to perfection. A single one of those fangs was thicker than his arm, and the dragoness had yet to fully open her maw.
"You won't know fear until I show it to you, little human."
"I make for a poor meal, believe me on that one."
"I don't believe a word you're saying," she flicked her tongue along his chest.
Rykel grimaced. It was so wet, so slimy! "Those fat mages on the plains looked like pork basted with honey compared to me."
"I won't eat you."
"Your tongue implies otherwise."
The dragoness narrowed her eyes. "The mere thought turns the stomach. You can keep your flesh where it belongs, but don't press your luck. You will find a dragon's patience short and sharp, just like their claws."
Rykel grabbed one of her claws just before she turned around. "They aren't that short, my dove."
The dragoness pulled her paw back in an instant. She walked away, dropped on the ground, then coiled around herself.
"I amused you, didn't I?" Rykel said as he rubbed his sore palm. That damned claw had quite the sharp tip. It didn't cut through the skin, though the graze left behind throbbed in a rather mean way. Rykel waited and paced around, but no answer came apart from her steady breathing.
"It's alright. You don't have to answer," he said with a heavy sigh. "Dragons like you are hard and productive workers. Flying through the skies all day with the whole world rolling under their feet. Must catch a pretty view from up there. Gives you choices, doesn't it?"
Still no answer.
"You can tell me about your travels. Or maybe about the last city you burned, or the people you've slain. How many must've been? Hundreds? Thousands?"
"A few."
"A few," Rykel scoffed. "Must place you at a few thousand I think."
"A few mages," the dragoness pressed on with a growly hiss. "Your dens hold no meaning for me, just like the rest of your invisible race."
"You can see me alright, love."
"Only until I shove you away with my tail. Then what, human?" she opened an eye. "You think I will care more about you?"
"You should care about the lives you took."
"Why?" she lifted her head. "We're all killers. The predator hunts the prey. It is the way of the wilds."
"Only we're not exactly beasts, are we?" Rykel squinted his eyes. "Maybe in your case we can make an exception, but-"
The dragoness growled. "Too many words. Share my forest if you will, but remain silent. Make even as much as a squeak and you will fly out like a chick flees the nest."
"Your kindness has been duly noted," Rykel bowed his head. "I shall take advantage of your generosity, fair and frightening creature."
She said nothing. Silence fit her. A little stroll in the sky, some beams of magic to fry a group of dimwit mages, and she was already more exhausted than a king after a feast. Still, she went through the binding process rather well. Rykel had no doubt that by morning, he and the dragon would become the best of friends.
He chuckled at the ridiculousness of that thought. He? Befriending that creature? Preposterous.
Rykel yawned and searched for a proper place to rest. The forest floor looked rather clean, apart from a few errant twigs. Rykel pushed them away, dropped his pack on the ground, and took out his sleeping furs. He spread the bear pelt on the ground, while keeping the shaggy wolf for a nice, comfy wrap.
"That's done," he mumbled while he searched through his supplies. "Now if I can only make sure I'm not bloody eaten, maybe I could close an eye or two."
After all, he couldn't just sleep with a bloody dragon next to him. Not without protection.
So Rykel took out his bottles and pouches, spread their mouths or uncorked them, depending on the nature of the item, then drew the basic runes on the ground with a glass rod. He moved it in jagged patterns to form Erythel, the rune of numbing. It confused the senses, giving the toughest of predators a hard time discerning what was real or not. With that done, Rykel started working on Narya, the Shell of the Seas, to ward off magic attacks. He moved his rod in fluid patterns, almost finishing his work before a growl pierced the silence.
"Those ichors smell even worse than you. Put them away, now."
"Apologies, your scaleness," Rykel looked over his shoulder. "I suffer from the not-wanting-to-be-eaten affliction, and I have this terrible habit of keeping myself alive."
The dragoness thought otherwise. "The only habit you have is to annoy. Just sleep."
"I will, after I finish my craft," Ryken turned back to his work.
That annoyed her. Rykel ignored her throaty growl. He had better things to worry about than a dragon's comfort. If she was as sensible as she mentioned, she could just uproot her paws and leave. Oh wait. Even that posed a tough challenge for dragons with superiority issues.
Rykel sighed as he mixed his reagents, weighted the powders, and prepared for the merging phase of his craft. He dipped the rod inside the concoctions, then rammed it inside the ground. The runes came alive in a blazing display of light.
"Satisfied?"
"Far from it," Rykel took his rod and prepared to draw a third rune. "There is still one bloody circle to go before-"
"I am not going to eat you," the dragoness slammed her tail into the ground. "What must I do to prove it? You humans are such scared, petty creatures!'
"Says the dragon. You would be cautious too if we switched places."
"I have too many wits to descend to your level, human. Sleep, or I will force you to."
"Terrifying," Rykel shrugged. He went about his rune crafting business, babbling and imitating that pestering voice inside his mind. Do this. Do that. She was an annoying pest that should have left when she had the chance. Rykel waved his rod left and right, not minding the grumpy dragon until leaves started shifting under her paws.
He turned around. "Hey, don't-"
Like she ever listened. Her accursed paw went right through the barriers. Motes of energy fizzled around her glowing claws. With a sharp tug, she extinguished the latent energies and pushed her head right through the bubble.
The burst of light blinded Rykel. He blinked several times. Stars still filled his vision. He rubbed and massaged, spreading his tears around until the stinging became more manageable. Then, he opened his eyes.
A huge, golden scaled snout loomed before him. Rykel brought his arms around, a split second too late. The dragoness pushed hard and quick. The impact was so strong he skidded along ground, rolling twice before he came to a stop.
"You bloody scale-nibbler," Rykel groaned. "I knew you were...I knew..." his head spun, and his chest felt too tight to speak. Rykel dragged himself against a tree, but even then peace was denied to him. The dragoness dug her head into his chest, so strong that the air fled Rykel's lungs in a long rasp.
"You do smell savory," she pressed her nostrils into Rykel's belly. "Such soft meat, filled with juices. It only takes a slight graze to split it apart."
Rykel grabbed around her snout. It was wet and warm, especially around her nostrils. The dragoness' lips pulled up, exposing those dreadful teeth of hers. Rykel's hands slid inside her slimy maw, clutching awkwardly around her fangs.
He was right. Despite her earlier disgust, this creature could claim his life whenever it wanted. Rykel was not about to bargain, beg or wait for the inevitable to happen. He slid one hand deep enough to punch her in the roof of her mouth, while the other disappeared behind his back. He gripped one arrow, turned it around mid swing, and buried the sharp tip inside the soft flesh of her gums.
The dragoness drew back with a hissing growl, jaws clacking with obvious irritation. Rykel quickly pulled back his arm and scrambled on his legs while the dragoness dealt with her pain.
It lasted a lot less than he imagined. Not even a heartbeat later, her lengthy tail rushed to meet him. It caught Rykel straight in the chest, dragging him along the hard soil until he smashed his back against one of her meaty hind legs.
Rykel coughed. The world spun for a moment. He tried to stand, crawl, or do something. Nothing worked. His muscles shivered with weakness, and his legs allowed him to rise just a bit before he collapsed back on the ground.
Rykel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them. She was back, nostrils flared, lips pulled above those pristine fangs of hers.
"You have to tickle harder than that, human."
"Should have brought a freaking sword..." Rykel mumbled, half dazed from the shock.
The female snarled. Her tongue slid across an arm, wet and slimy.
"Come on. What is this for?"
"To prove a point. I can lick you how I wish, and even hurt if I desire."
"Oh really? Then do it already and stop wasting our time," Rykel spat out.
Rykel immediately regretted that choice of words. He found his arm pressed between two teeth. He tugged once, then winced. Bad idea.
"You do have a taste for meat, after all."
The dragoness looked into his eyes, pressing harder.
"I'm going to bleed all over your pretty tongue if you keep that up, love."
"You're a bit more resilient than that."
"Test me."
She jerked back, soft enough to leave Rykel's skin with a clean, bloody line along his arm.
"Chh. You're a mean sort."
"Am I?" she allowed her warm tongue to slide over the wound.
Rykel winced. He made it sound a lot worse than it was, though he had to admit, her tongue felt rather nice licking like that along his arm.
"You are by far the worst creature I had the displeasure of encountering," he said.
"You traveled little then," she pulled her head back. "The ones I encountered would have made a tasty meal out of you."
"Like you weren't thinking about it."
"I keep my word, human. If you bothered to listen, you would have slept in your nice little pelts with no wound or discomfort pestering you."
"Discomfort? I don't know. I rather like it here."
The dragoness growled. Rykel knew it was bad. A high pitch usually meant excitement, and dragons were not so different from beasts. Within a heartbeat, he found himself firmly grabbed inside a hind paw and snuggly pressed against her belly.
"Tight...too tight. Maybe you can consider-"
Her grip lessened, though not enough to allow a possible escape. Rykel pushed around, pulled, and grabbed around her toes. They were made of stone. Even another dragon would have trouble prying those apart.
"I take my words back. You are worse than mean. This?" he tensed his captive arms and kicked his legs. "This is cruelty!"
"Only to your misguided eyes. You are safer here than you will ever be inside your circles."
"Yeah. And I'll freeze to death before-"
Her fluffy tail pressed hard against his belly. Rykel closed his eyes and spat, forcing the hairs out of his mouth. "This thing smells."
"You asked for warmth, not blooming gardens."
"Well I don't need it. Take your tail back before I suffocate."
She did. Rykel sighed with relief. He took a few gulps of air, thinking of a proper insult. He had to break that tough hide of hers. Being pinned to a dragon was not only embarrassing, but utterly ridiculous. Her breath was loud, her grip too strong, and he barely had enough space to turn his head around without seeing scales.
He remained there, lost in thought, with only her breath and the wind's chill for company. Rykel shivered. Her belly was quite warm, but it only warmed from one side. Rykel's chest was still exposed to the cold, and the shifting wind only made that worse. He waited, and waited, until he started hating that shivering more than the words brewing inside his head.
"Would it be possible to get a bit more warmth here? Can you even be bothered to bring that tail back?"
It swished towards him. Rykel grabbed into the fur and pressed it against his chest. It was so warm So fluffy. His fingers dug through the fluff, and a soft sigh escaped him.
"And that paw. Maybe you can relax those toes a little bit."
She did, surprising Rykel with her benevolence. He shifted onto his back, arms crossed above his chest, tail firmly pressed against his belly. It was comfortable here, and he was half-tempted to just close his eyes and take a much needed nap. The smell of dragon entered his nostrils with every breath he took though. She might have been a special sort, but she was still a dragon. Warm or not, Rykel couldn't comprehend the idea to make peace with his enemy so quickly. He counted a hundred of her lengthy breaths, then slowly pushed her tail and paw away, dragging himself across the forest floor.
"You will find your furs stiff and lacking compared to what I can offer."
Rykel sighed. He rolled to the side to stare into one of her verdant eyes.
"They're mine. I slept in them for years. As kind as your offer was, I just feel better sleeping on my own."
"Your choice," the dragoness closed her eyes. "But I expect you to crawl under my belly before the sun lightens up the sky."
Like that was ever going to happen. Rykel wrapped himself in his furs, knees pulled close to his chest for extra warmth. The smell of burned coals impregnated into the pelt offered comfort, and he fell asleep before he realized it. The night was cold though. He woke up several times. Shivers claimed his stiff limbs, and his spine hurt from the improper position. Rykel shifted several times and forced himself to sleep with little results. Finally, he had enough. Improper and proper were just ideas, and a dragon's belly was warm. With a deep scowl shadowing his features and clattering teeth to mask his irritation, Rykel crawled towards warmth. He hated himself for giving in to weakness, but at least he would still be sane in the morning.
Rykel found himself awoken by her insistent sniffing. Her snout was everywhere, poking, pushing, rubbing, and being an all rounder pest.
"What are you, a dog?" Rykel groaned. "Stop sniffing around like that."
"Dogs? What are those?" The dragoness asked calmly.
"Dumb animals we order around. They sniff and lick, exactly like you do."
"Curiosity should not be shunned," the female brought her tail around herself. "And you might find a dog's place to be more reasonable thank you think."
Rykel scratched the back of his head. "Yeah? And why is that?"
"Because I want you to come with me, human," the dragoness spoke. "I don't care who you are or what circumstances brought you here.
"I don't care either," Rykel smiled. "Was there more to that?"
"Ilyniel."
"What's Ilyniel? This forest?" Rykel waved around.
"A name you can call me by."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm comfortable calling you dragon."
"Whatever you see fit, human," she empathized that last word through a hiss.
"Seems we're in agreement," Rykel said drily.
Ilyniel turned away with a snort and went about her morning routine. For a dragon, that included walking around, stretching, yawning and growling. Rykel laughed at first, complained after, then finally realized his words were falling on deaf ears. The personality of a dragon had a lot in common with their scales. They were both tough, unyielding, and thoroughly stubborn to any outside intervention.
With a hearty sigh, Rykel followed the dragon's example and bent his body in all manner of ways. Ilyniel. The name had a pleasant allure, despite its purpose. Somehow, dragons weren't fit to bear names. As striking as they were, their scales served only one purpose. To protect, while the creatures did their killing with their wicked claws and dagger-like teeth. Rykel learned to despise them. Years taught him only the worst about dragons, yet somehow his eyes tried to disagree. What he saw before him was not a blood soaked killer. It was just a creature, with a body that flowed like water when it stretched, a luxurious mane to empathize her features and striking emerald eyes. They looked at him now, blackened slits narrowing as the sun fell upon them.
"Are you ready?" the dragoness asked in that pleasant voice of hers.
"Ready for what?" Rykel stretched his aching back. "I still have to un-stiffen my back."
"To come with me," she said, licking between the fingers of a forepaw.
"Where? Why?"
Ilyniel perked her head. "Does it matter that much to you?"
"Of course," Rykel walked towards her. "As far as I know, you can lead me back to your cave where your voracious hatchlings eagerly await their next meal."
She shook her head at that. "I don't have a mate, human. If I don't eat you, nobody else will."
Rykel ignored the eating part. "No mate. Isn't that odd for a female? Animals go through these phases or something. Seasons, I believe?"
"Heat cycles," ilyniel agreed with a dip of her head. "It's still too early in the season for mine, but they do happen, and they are quite bothersome."
"How bothersome?" Rykel smirked, chin propped on the bridge of a fist. "Tell me, please. I'm genuinely interested in what happens and how it happens."
The dragoness swung her tail around. "You have to be a female to understand."
"That is a cheap shot," he jabbed a finger at her. "I asked an honest question, and I expect an honest answer."
"And you will get one while we walk," she stood up on her fours.
"Why not here?" Rykel walked around, pointing at the trees and everything. "It's nice. Quiet. Intimate."
"Just come," she hissed, flicking her tail a few meters away from his face.
"I can just say no," Rykel ran until he reached her side. "There's no agreement I signed to follow you around like a dog."
"You'll still come."
"Why? Because I'm madly in love with you?"
Ilyniel stared at him for a moment. Rykel could swear he saw irritation inside those emerald eyes of hers before she looked ahead.
"Oh! Love!" Rykel chuckled and patted her paw a few times. "Foreign word for your kin, isn't it?"
"Not foreign. Different." Ilyniel walked without a care, claws digging their tips into the ground. "Mating is love, but it also has deeper implications."
"Offspring," Rykel noted. "No way around those, is it?"
"Only a few times between cycles, but we mate to produce hatchlings unlike your kind. You are so strange, to only sample the pleasure over the joy of raising little ones."
"Pleasure. Funny thing coming from you, lady I-go-into-heat like an animal. You only feel pleasure for a few days? How does it even work for you?"
Ilyniel turned her head around and stopped, one paw lifted in the air. "We can pleasure ourselves any time we want, and with the same intensity and joy as any other living being."
Rykel imagined her tongue slithering deep inside her own crevice. It was the most disturbing thing he ever thought of. He grimaced, forced his thoughts on the leaves below his feet, and waved his arms around to feign a deep sense of intelligence. "Intriguing. But I learned enough draconic habits during my stay with you to avoid delving deep into you know what. I shall go about my business and-"
Ilyniel dashed around him, blocking his retreat with her sinuous body. "You are not going back."
"What? Why?" Rykel frowned. "Am I your slave now, to serve, pleasure you, and all that nonsense?"
"You can rise to that rank, if you so desire, but I just need you to follow along for the time being."
"And why is that? Rykel asked again.
"Lets just say...I took a liking to you," she bowed her head so that their eyes were on the same level.
Rykel gasped in disbelief. "You're fockin' joking. This talk of heat and mating messed up with your mind. Made you a scale-brain, as I call you. See?" he poked her around her jaw. "Hard. Dense. Just like your head."
"I am quite serious, human. Your dogs intrigued me, and a pet of my own can be quite useful for what I am about to uncover."
Rykel stepped back, avoiding that stubborn snout of hers until she mentioned that last word. Uncover? That sounded like searching. Digging. Maybe she was after some fabled artifact worth more than the whole city of Yrenay itself!
The realization came in a flash of brilliance, and moist, heated air. Rykel placed his hands on either side of Ilyniel's head. He had a temporary shock at feeling just how warm those scales were, but quickly got over it. He rubbed slowly, working his fingers along the sides. A growl smoldered in her throat, flaring higher the more he approached towards her twitching nostrils. Rykel did not need to learn dragonology to know she was having quite a good time. Her breath picked, her eyelids drooped lazily, and she started rubbing against his chest with greater intensity.
"I knew you were a feisty lady," Rykel said between breaths. "All that talk about mating must have worked some appetite."
"Keep rubbing," she hissed softly, poking harder against his chest.
"Oh, that's what they say in the brothel. Stroke it. Rub it. Take it this way and that," Rykel chuckled.
"You have no idea how good it feels," Ilyniel said lazily, lowering her head into his grip.
Rykel grabbed under her chin. Bloody dragons with their silly needs and stupid requests. Not only he had to follow her along to chase suspicions, but he had to pleasure her while at it!
Rykel bit back his irritation and picked up his efforts. If he truly did this, he might've just do it right. He started with the bottom part of her jaw, then climbed along the edges of her lips. The scales were smaller there, and much more sensitive. Ilyniel's growl washed over him, warm and melodic compared to her other throaty vocalizations.
"How much are you actually enjoying this?"
Her jerking paws spoke for themselves. Ilyniel pushed hard. Rykel held his ground as best as he managed. He scratched and pushed around her nostrils. Shivers coursed under the flesh below. The two crevices widened, allowing a short gaze inside their fleshy depths before a mighty sneeze burst forth. Rykel closed his eyes. A whole load of warm mucus shot forth, pelting him with thick draconic goo.
"Thank...thank you for that," he said, washing off the dribbling slime with a hand.
"Allow me," Ilyniel's tongue rushed forth.
It was warm, and frighteningly wet! Rykel scrunched his eyes shut and pressed his lips tight. Dragons had such long, flexible tongues. It almost felt surreal to be licked by one.
Within a couple of swipes, Ilyniel finished.
"Gah. Suppose I should thank you again."
"No need. It has been so long since I rubbed against my own kin...I almost forgot how delightful it felt."
"Wait. Did I grow scales? Because I'm sure I heard-"
She interrupted the stream of words with a quick lick along Rykel's contorted face.
"You are no dragon, but your touch reminded me of one. Soft, yet so vigorous..."
"Well worth the price, no doubts about that," Rykel laughed.
Ilyniel shared nothing but growls and moans to that quip. That massage really got under her scales something fierce. Once she was done and Rykel's clothes were thoroughly soaked in dragon saliva, the two continued their trek through the forest. Ilyniel was after something. She had her own set of clues, though even her knowledge failed to pierce past the haze rising around the artifact. What could it be, and where was it hiding?
Part of the answer came at sunset, when the forest thickened and the trees grew to impressive heights. Rykel looked around. There was an order to how everything grew. Roots were well curved, bushes nestled into clusters, and the branches of the trees twisted in intricate patterns.
"You knew of this place?"
"I had my suspicions," Ilyniel placed her paw on the trunk of a tree. "This forest was a nest for the dragons of old."
"You speak like they're extinct," Rykel walked, admiring the strange looking vegetation.
"They are," Ilyniel sniffed around, tail brushing against every tree it encountered. "Their race had been extinguished after the last Sundering. All that's left behind is this forest, and the memories it holds within."
"The trees won't speak to us, love," Rykel knocked thrice for emphasis. "See? Tougher than stone."
"You shouldn't say that."
"Why? Will the vegetation uproot and turn me into a freaky plant man?"
"It very well can," Ilyniel said. "Those dragons knew a lot more than we do, They shaped the whole world. The trees, the rocks, the waters, the air. Everything is their creation. Some say they had control over life itself."
"Another heartwarming story about elder races," Rykel scoffed. "Tell me this, dragon. If your elderly kin were so wise and powerful, how comes they're all dead?"
Ilyniel hissed with snarling annoyance and turned to inspect another tree. "Human brilliance. Amazes me every time."
"It's an honest question!" Rykel went after her swishing tail.
"A question you will keep in your head for a long time to come."
"Not if you tell me the answer."
She turned her head around, snapped her jaws, and pressed onwards. The trees gave way to a small clearing with lots of wild flowers, saplings and bushes, all arranged in intricate patterns around the biggest tree Rykel had the pleasure of seeing.
"I bet three of your scales that one hides something of value."
"My scales are not currency, human" Ilyniel looked around. "But you can do something useful. Search for runes or traces of magic. Every living being leaves its mark on its surroundings."
"Makes sense. Marking. Pee and poop," Rykel frowned.
"It's easier to leave a warning like that instead of roaring from one end of your home to the other."
"Efficiency. I'm surprised your kind knows that."
"Why wouldn't we? Our race roamed the land and conquered the skies before the first humans emerged."
Rykel rolled his eyes. A simple question spurred into quite the healthy debate. They both went back and forth with their own set of arguments. Rylek shouted, Ilyniel growled, and both gave everything their minds conjured until a short roar shattered the silence.
"Do that, and I'll scream louder."
Ilyniel hissed.
"Oh, you've changed to the hissy approach. Well I can hiss too," Ryek proved with a strange yelp of some sort.
"Just look around, you scale-less oaf."
That term was his fault. Rykel called Ilyniel scale-nibbler several times, and now the dragoness was shooting his smart remarks right back at him. He bit his irritation back though, just in case she discovered something. Rykel went around the tree, jumped over roots, and slid a hand across her scaly hide.
"Can't see anything that worth more than this hide of yours."
"What about that?" she stretched her head towards the giant tree.
"You know what trees are? I'm positively amazed."
"Look closer."
Rykel squinted his eyes. All he saw were roots and weeds until his gaze fell upon a space. The gap followed the same path between the roots. That was impossible in nature, unless...
"It's an entrance."
"Can you fit through?"
"I certainly won't be cruel enough to let your big bum crawl through that tiny hole, even if it will be bloody amusing."
Ilyniel shoved him away so hard he fell. Rykel didn't complain too much. He had to make acquaintance with the ground at some point, so he crawled forward, between cold, twisting roots. The more he advanced, the bigger they got, until the maze got the best of him.
"I can't see a thing in this gloom."
"That's because we are not supposed to," Ilyniel's voice came from behind.
"What then, scale brains? Do you want to torch everything and roar your victory over some roots?"
"Feel."
"Feel?" Rykel scoffed. "Let me give you a short description of that. Cold, dirty roots that sprout from everywhere and get inside everything!"
"I'll clean you when you come out."
"No thanks. No more drippy licking."
He said that, yet the first thing he did once he crawled out of that damp mess was to lunge towards her inviting paws. Ilyniel grabbed his wobbling form between her forelegs and approached her head. Her breath felt divine, and her licks more than delightful.
"This feels...much better than I expected," Rykel chuckled at the irony. A day ago, he would have never believed he could enjoy a dragon's tongue this much.
"You're colder than my claws. My belly will warm you better than my breath."
"Wait wai-"
Ilyniel's stubbornness heeded no protest. She pushed Rykel to her belly and held him there, trapped between her paws, tail and snout until his face reddened with both heat and embarrassment.
"Never do that again," Rykel crawled away the first chance he got.
"I will, if you will ask it of me," she swished her tail playfully, then turned her attention towards the tree. "Now, if I can only manage to mould my own life force to the tree's essence, maybe we can do something about those roots."
"Fortune be with you, mighty dragon" Rykel bowed and stepped back.
He never knew of plant speakers, least dragons who communed with the land. Still, he had a lot more to learn about their race. The forest groaned with an ancient cry, and the roots before him trembled and twisted. They parted, twining around each other until the way was slowly revealed.
"It looks like a...a cave or something."
"A sanctuary," Ilyniel took the lead. "Be mindful of what you touch. All dragons value their possessions, and few take kindly to thieves."
"We aren't stealing anything," he said, then took a hold of her tail. "Wait, are we?"
Ilyniel tugged her tail. It was a simple pull for her, yet to Rykel that felt like a proper shove. He stumbled forward, hugging the thicker part of her tail with both arms, his chest, and a certain part of his maleness.
"Something's wrong?"
"Nothing," Rykel suppressed his groan. "Just...do your exploration thing."
Thankfully, she listened this time. Rykel's steps were slow and awkward until the throbbing pain between his legs subsided to manageable levels. Once that happened, he could finally take a good look around. There was a cave under the tree. A long, shining kind of cave, with luminescent crystals growing out of the rock and vegetation thriving in the patches of soil sprouting on the side of the cave.
"Quite a sight," Rykel said.
"Look ahead of you."
"I've seen enough of your tail, Lyn. If you know what that pesky tip did to me-"
She walked to the side, revealing the far edge of the cave. Symbols were carved into the stone, shining with a soft blue radiance.
"Alright, that is a better sight," he pointed towards Ilyniel, then back at the wall. "Why don't you go ahead and see if these elderly kin of yours had friendly intentions?"
"Are you afraid?" Ilyniel asked.
Rykel chuckled. "What? Of course not. We just agreed to a certain division of labor, that's all."
"I agreed to no such trade."
"Sure you did. I do the crawling, you do the exploration. That thing is exploration," Rykel pointed with a finger.
Ilyniel leaped ahead, avoiding the cave's ceiling by a short berth. Rykel approached a bit. He wanted to see what manners of symbols she scratched into the stone while keeping safe distance in case some old magic exploded in her face.
Thankfully for her, nothing of that sort happened.
Unfortunately for him, his name was called as soon as the slab of stone vanished into a puff of black smoke.
"What do we have here, love?"
"A gate, though I fail to recognize its kind," Ilyniel sniffed and poked around with her claws. The wall blazed with a combination of runes.
"Can you read that?"
"No, but I can feel it," Ilyniel placed a paw on the azure wall. She held it there for four heartbeats, then drew back with a hiss.
"Did it bite?"
"Singed," she licked it a few times.
"Was your heroic sacrifice worth it?"
"Definitely," she crouched on the ground. "What stands before us is one of their storage altars. The old dragons used them to store objects of power, usually artifacts forged or stolen by the Elder races."
"Do we know what's inside?"
She shook her head. "No, but I know how to pierce these gates."
"Lovely," Rykel stepped back and rubbed along her mane. "Be a good dragon and forge us a way, will you?"
"I can't."
"You can't? Did I hear that right?"
She swung her tail around, forcing the bumbling human into her grip.
"My magic can be unleashed and molded, but never focused. That art belongs to the younger races such as-"
"Me," Rykel scoffed. "Leave it to the human to do what the dragon can not."
"It's just one gate. If you can open all of them without my aid, I will allow you to claim everything that hides within."
"I agree to these terms!" Rykel grabbed one of her forepaws and squeezed it heartily between his hands.
Ilyniel lowered her neck, looking at him with one glimmering eye.
"It's called a hand shake. Or paw shake for you. Whatever. We use them as a sign of good will and agreement."
"How odd," she tried to grip around his arm with her much bigger paw.
"Ack. Careful with the claws, dear."
She allowed her fingers to go limp. Rykel squeezed her warm, humid paw, then slowly eased it back on the ground. "There. We have an honest and mutual agreement formed between us. Doesn't it feel better?"
"No. You humans are odd. You turn easy things into such difficult maneuvers."
"A paw shake wasn't that bad. It's still much easier than getting you to befriend a human," Rykel slapped her snout. "Just wait and see, dragon. We're not all pathetic and useless as you think."
With that conviction set in his mind, Rykel touched the ephemeral gate. Energy webbed under his palm, splitting in more paths than he could count. He looked left, right, above and below. There were no shortcuts, and no way to go around this labyrinth. If he wanted to break the gate, he needed to find the origin point and pierce it with a surge of his own power.
That was a lot more difficult than Rykel anticipated. Sigh after sigh, groan after groan, his patience eroded like a mound of sand rammed by a tidal wave.
"This is impossible," he stepped back, foot sliding around a protrusion. Rykel fell backwards, yet it was not the hard ground that met his back. When he turned around, he saw Ilyniel's angular head, held just above her gripping paw.
"Clumsy feet."
"Good thing I have yours to hold me, eh?" he rubbed her quickly between her nostrils. Ilyniel brought her tail to her aid, but the damage had already been done. She arched her head, then sneezed with all her might.
"I'm glad I didn't intercept that one."
"You should be. Next time I sneeze, it will be on you."
"I believe you, my dear lady," Rykel said as he got onto his feet. He touched the gate with one hand, while the other felt around Ilyniel's fingers. They were warm, with pebbly scales and sharp claws at their tips.
"You can let go."
"You'll fall again."
"I fell one time. That is one of those things that never repeat."
"We'll see about it."
"Then let's," Rykel pried her grip open. "Just get these murderous claws away before you eviscerate me."
Ilyniel cocked her head. She didn't take that well. Neither did Rykel. Where did that outburst come from?
"I will give you space to focus," Ilyniel said.
"Wait, you don't have to-"
She was already leaving. Rykel gritted his teeth and turned back to his gate. Stupid anger. Stupid words. Why couldn't his mouth remain shut? He shook his head, groaned, and planted a fist into the gate. He wronged Ilyniel, but he was not going to fail on his task. He just couldn't.
So Rykel remained there. He sat, crouched, splayed on the ground, and tried every position he could think of while thinking of the many ways to break the gate. It was like climbing a mountain in a day. Even so, he stood his ground, tracing the pathways and making the connections until his head felt on the verge of bursting.
"There," Rykel closed his eyes. "I have you now."
He focused on the core, then reached within his magic reserves to send a surge of power through it. The gate before him puffed into azure wisps, revealing a second gate. Rykel's face dropped. That one was made of black stone, with four jewels encrusted in its surface. They formed a circle, though there was nothing to see in the way of guidance. Rykel touched them, tapped them, rubbed them, and left when nothing happened.
He found Ilyniel playing around in the surrounding gardens. She was in the midst of quite an elaborate game of tail chase. She ran and leaped around, trying to catch that bushy tip in her maw. She wasn't very good at it, until a jerk in her tail allowed her to finally catch the fluffy pest.
Rykel smiled. He never expected something like that from a dragon. Ilyniel rolled on her back, kicking and pawing at her own head. She expertly slid her head between the agile limbs, aiming at the pestering tail once again. She slapped it on her paws, between them, and even on her head until she managed to catch it. She licked through the fuzz a few times, then released the fluffy prize so she could play with her hind paws.
It was an enticing sight, to see how she bent and twisted on the ground. Her paws latched and poked at each other with no particular goal. Ilyniel was just pleased to nuzzle along them or give the occasional lick when her tongue was close enough to her toes.
She did that now, licking quickly along the underside of a foot. She slid around her toes, grazed a few times at her snowy claws, then released her captive paw. The tail took her place instead, grabbed just behind the tawny tip. Ilyniel shook it a few times. She grabbed hold of its thicker part with her forepaws and started licking, lips pulled up and tongue pushing through the pesky strands of fuzz.
Rykel froze when her eyes settled on him. They glistened with cheer and playfulness. He opened his mouth, almost voicing out his thoughts before Ilyniel was distracted by one of her paws. She quickly took hold of it, turning her eyes away from him.
Rykel choked. He coughed a few times, trying to expel the tightness that took hold of his chest. It felt so deep, so oppressive. In an instant, his outburst rang in his mind, allowing for a crashing sense of regret to wash over him. He sent Ilyniel away. Not only that. He insulted her kind and tarnished her own image, despite all the reassurances she made regarding his safety.
"Would you like to join me?"
Rykel shuddered and stumbled back a few steps. "Err, aghm," he dragged his voice. "What?"
"Join me. I promise to use only the soft part of my tail to test your mettle."
Rykel shook his head. "Maybe another time."
"There is nothing better to do."
"Of course it is."
"Like?" Ilyniel rubbed the fluffy tail tip under her chin.
"Watching. Ghm, I mean thinking," Rykel quickly corrected himself.
"What you need is a moment of respite," Ilyniel stood up on her paws.
Gods. She was coming towards him. Rykel thought of a few ways to escape this awkward situation, but she was upon him in five heartbeats, sending his thoughts sailing away with a warm puff of her breath.
Rykel shuddered.
"Are you cold?" Ilyniel stretched her neck, inspecting him.
"Just excited," Rykel resisted the urge to touch her warm scales as she sniffed around. "I broke the gate, Lyn."
He expected her to retreat, wait, or ponder upon his words. Instead, Ilyniel wrapped a forepaw behind his back and shoved him straight into her pesky nostrils. She rubbed up and down, growling warmly. At least Rykel interpreted it as such. Her rumble was soft and soothing, just like the warm gusts that seeped into his clothing.
"A bit excited, I see," he sat there, stiff as a statue, taking in all the delightful warmth rushing through his trembling muscles.
"You should be too," Ilyniel poked her tongue out, trailing the tip around his neck in a short swipe before she looked upon him with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.
"I-I am!" Rykel grabbed around her head. Gods, it felt awkward hugging a dragon, especially after he insulted her. Ilyniel must have forgotten about it already, as she rubbed and licked like an adorable dog.
Rykel stroke her scales, reached a shaky hand towards her mane, then sighed softly when his fingers disappeared inside her silky fluff.
"You're so warm."
"Not warm enough, it seems. You're shivering!"
"Shuddering. There's a difference."
"I'm not warming you well enough," she dug her snout into his belly.
Rykel groaned, pushing back into her gripping paw. "It's not-not the heat, you bloody dragon," he said as he pushed that pesky snout away.
"What is the cause then?" Ilyniel's nostrils twitched with curiosity?
"Tired. I'm fatigued, and exhausted, worn out and all of that," Rykel mumbled quickly, anything to get away from her soaking heat.
"I will allow you to rest then," she gently lowered him on the ground.
Rykel nodded his appreciation. He touched her paw when she drew it back, then looked upon her bright features with a twitching smile before she took a step away from him.
"Wait, where...why are you leaving?"
"I need to inspect your work. I will return swiftly."
Rykel watched her paws being swallowed by the dark entrance of the cave on by one. Her tail was the last, long, proud, and delightfully playful. Then, in a single step, she was gone. Her warmth left room for the chilling breeze and her voice gave way to the chirps of the birds. Rykel wanted to enjoy both of those, but he couldn't. The heaviness returned, making his chest feel all weird and constricted.
"Grahhh," he placed an arm over his chest. "I am really not regretting a stupid string of words, am I? Wha' the fock is wrong with me?"
He had quite a bit of time to figure that guilt made him tense, and fear prohibited him from washing away that particular guilt. There were only two ways of doing so. Sit back and forget, or speak to Ilyniel once she crawled out of that cave.
Rykel ran a hand through his hair, laid back in the grass, then groaned a monstrous sigh. Talking to her was harder for some reason. He blamed her little tail games for that. She just looked so majestic, hunting her own limbs like that. Rykel had a few things he wanted to say about her paws. Compliments such as lithe, agile, dexterous. He liked her tail too, always swishing with a fluid grace, be it on the ground or through the air.
"I'm being bloody stupid," Rykel realized. "Paws? Tails? Hunters would be thinking of scales. How to shred them, how to pierce them...how to kill her."
He found that thought particularly disgusting, especially where Ilyniel was concerned. Rykel scrunched his eyes and slapped his face, forcing his attention on the hot, throbbing sting in his cheeks.
"That's better. Now I only have to wait for that sun scaled beauty to reveal that pretty tail...head of hers through...." Rykel sighed. He imagined the many ways he could stroke those beautiful paws. He could grab them, knead them, rub them, tickle them, and much, much more. Ilyniel would tense all over, spreading her lithe fingers and bringing that lovely tail around. Rykel grabbed that too, rubbing into the fluffy tip until the dragoness' throat smoldered with delight. He pressed harder and deeper into both paws and tail, flaring her bliss until a proper roar left her throat.
Rykel shuddered. Would she really extract that much pleasure if he touched her right now? He played the scenario around his head a couple of times. His heart quickened, flooding his body with unexpected heat.
Rykel rubbed his neck and buried his face inside his palms. "Mate, you seriously have a couple of issues to think about her paws like that."
***THE END...for now***
Aw bummer! It was an excerpt all along. Why you do this to us kitty? The short answer would be too mean to say it out loud so I'll keep you guessing! :P
Nah, seriously now, I wanted to give you guys a good preview of one of my better stories. There's still a solid 12k words worth of stuff posted above. I think that's a sweet middle ground. I invested quite a bit of time into writing and editing this little gem, and I have plans for a sequel that will ultimately be sped up by your support. If you want to support me and get the full version of the story in return, considering purchasing this story from:
