Fenrir finished licking his wound, he let his camouflage fall as he stared at the half-human, leaning against one half of her halberd. A memory of Ame, the human, flashed in his mind. She was tall, especially for a woman-folk, her hair was fluffy, and she had darker skin than the royal family, she claimed she was from another country, one that worshiped dragons. They had heard of the tragedy of Fenrir's family, and sent her to help him⦠repopulate. She left after the first session, Fenrir figured she had failed. But this half-human, her eyes sparked the same as Ame. And she was also a glass dragon, with horns remarkably similar to his own. He could use her. "Impressive, especially for a half-human," The wounded knight flicked her head up in surprise, staring at Fenrir who was crawling down the cliff, his tail still dragging along the top of the cliff. She growled, baring her teeth at the last dragon, "Breaking your human weapon to strike him was quick-witted, and getting any hit on him is remarkable."
"Why are you still here, dragon!" Vogaix growled at Fenrir, gripping onto the bladed half of her halberd. "I'll kill you for attacking Khora," The dragon crawled to the ground and stared at Vogaix, beginning to walk around her in a large circle.
"I know, but I am the reason you were able to fight against Boran," The beast stood up straighter, spreading his wings, "Who do you think dropped your weapon down here." His scales shifted in color, a red line flitting through his body before it returned to normal, "Who's blood do you think caused him to choke you, instead of beheading you!" His voice deepened, throat glowing red. "You should be thanking me, not threatening me!"
"Shut up," The half-human relaxed slightly, the anger of a dragon behind her eyes, "You hurt my princess, why would I thank you." She spread her wings as well, scales reflecting the sun into the dragon's eyes. The dragon smirked, mouth slightly open and paw slightly off the ground.
"You remind me of my sister," He sat on the ground, shaking the half-human slightly. He relaxed his wings, throat still ready to blast the half-breed with a gob of molten scales. "Though I was much happier to accept her lack of respect than yours. Now sit," He let the last word escape from his jaw in a growl, "I wish to speak with you, civilly," Vogaix sat on her knees, angrily staring at Fenrir.
"What." She snorted angrily out of her nose.
"Did your mother happen to survive your birth?" Vogaix's left eye twitched, shocked at his blunt question.
"She didn'tâ¦" The half-human paused, "The family that found me claims she was ripped apart from the inside, as if some kind of parasite had crawled from her womb." The dragon listened intently, picturing the few births of half-dragons that he had seen. Only one creature survived, a fox. The rest were torn apart as if they were an egg, their wombs torn apart by the children's claws. He pictured Ame like that, and slightly winced.
"They tend not to, half-humans are far too strong for their weak wombs," He took a moment to gauge Vogaix's reaction. Her tail curled inward as her eyes showed a ping of guilt. He thought about telling her that it was not her fault, she knew what was coming. "Why do you care so much about a human? Does it not hate you, like the rest of them do?"
"Khora cares!" The half-human stood up and threw her halberd to the ground, "She's⦠different," She paused, eyes finally looking at Fenrir's features, "And don't call her an it." Fenrir snorted out some smoke, letting his breath-sac relax.
"Even ifâ¦" He let his eyes fall over Vogaix. She could be useful, it would be in his best interest not to anger the child. "Even if Khora is different, that does not explain why you care for a human so. Are you not proud of your dragon heritage?"
"Proud," Vogaix scoffed, sitting back down, "Listen to sir high and mighty," It was her turn to stare at Fenrir, he could tell some kind of idea brewing behind her eyes. "I-" She curled up, covering her face with her knees, and covering her knees with her wings, "I am proud, I just wish I could be louder about itâ¦" Her voice shook as she wiped her face with the back of her hand, "They would want to kill me if I lived anywhere but the slums that I'm forced to live in," Her voice began to steady, as if she was actively gaining confidence, "And even then, me being a half-dragon isn't the only reason Khora's father doesn't approve of me." The glass-dragon stood up and spread his wings.
"You should run home, meet me back here tomorrow night." Fenrir began to change his scales, each one instinctively matching a color that would help him blend in to the sky, "And your scales are an asset, learn to use them." The half-human was blown back by the force of Fenrir's wings, and she looked up at him in amazement.
Fenrir flapped through the air, scales actively shifting to match the clouds above and the ground below. He quickly dove down towards a hawk, letting it fly into his gullet. His mind raced with thoughts. He had a better idea of the state of the kingdom, and he had many more ideas how to kill the king. Not just the king, the idea that his rule was built upon, the dominance of humans over dragons. It was always an idea that made him laugh. As if those tiny creatures could stand up to the majesty of a dragon. Boran, the monster that burnt his clutch, the wielder of the blade that was covered in Marath's blood, the wearer of his family's remains. That knight would end up in Fenrir's gullet, even if that was the last thing Fenrir did. And that half-human, Vogaix. Hatred of humans was boiling just below the surface, he just had to properly stoke the fire. If she was truly his only heir he would make sure her, and her eventual children, stayed safe. He just had to figure out how to get rid of that⦠human she cared for so much. No human could care for anyone of dragon descent, much less a royal. It clearly wanted something from the half-human, but Fenrir could exploit that want. He would have to.
He slowed on his approach to the cave, which rested near the base of the mountain isolating the kingdom from the outside world, and his scales relaxed to their more reflective hue. At the entrance of the cave was Malachi, its hunched back more of an eyesore than most humans. "Sir Fenrir," It bowed as much as it could, "I was just about to head back to the castle. Were you able to⦠kill the child?" Fenrir just shot the half-centaur a look of disgust, before he took a claw and covered it in some of his blood from the halberd wound.
"It had a knight with it, but I dealt with that. And no, Boran⦠collected it before I could finish the spawn off." He waved the blood-covered claw around, both his and Malachi's eyes following it. "Malachi,"
"Yes sir?" The half centaur snapped his eyes away from the claw, staring up at the dragon.
"I have a new task for you," Fenrir put his front paw next to Malachi, the blood-covered claw almost dwarfing the miserable half-breed, "Do you have any rations with you?" The servant nodded, his eyes flicking from Fenrir to his claw, drool dripping from his mouth.
"Just some bread, oh great one." It pulled out some hard bread from its pack, showing it to its master.
"Perfect, cover it in my blood." Fenrir pushed the claw closer to the half-breed. Malachi nodded and rubbed some of the bread on his claw, the oil-like blood seeping into the crags of the bread. "Now," Fenrir leaned down, getting close to the servant, his hot breath causing it to sweat, "Give that to a fellow servant, one as needy as you. And when they ask for more, lead them to me." He let his breath-sac heat up, a soft orange glow covering Malachi's face. "And if you partake in this blood at all. I will make sure you suffer, for the rest of your miserable, disgusting, life."
"As you wish sir." Malachi bowed before it stumbled away, running down the mountain and towards the kingdom. Having more people inside will be useful. And the servant wouldn't steal any of the blood, it may not be the smartest, but it wasn't quite that stupid. Fenrir walked into his cave, resting his head at the altar. "Sisterâ¦" He stared at Marath's remains, "I have a plan," He let his massive eyelids close as he rested in the scent of his departed family.
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Boran grunted as he shut the door to the princesses' room. He locked the door and shook his head, trying to clear his head of the glass-dragon's blood. A glass-dragon, and not just that disgusting half-breed; no, their blood would not have affected someone like him so much. That was pure dragon-blood, and an ancient dragon, too. Nowhere close to the age a newborn would be. Plus, Boran burned every single egg, he was sure of it. The head knight gritted his teeth, one got away. That was the only reasonable answer. Those pests. He punched the stone wall next to him, one of the massive stones cratering underneath his knuckles. The candles along the hall shook in fear of the massive man.
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"S-sir Boran?" A squeaky, frail voice came from behind the knight. Boran took a deep breath and stroked his hand through his hair, turning around to see Lopsir's tiny frame staring at the damage his fist did to the wall. "What happened with Khora?" His eyes flicked to the wound on Boran's cheek.
"Nothing," He wiped his face with the back of his hand spreading the blood over his gauntlet and across his cheek, "Where's Malachi, I have to talk to him." Boran stared at the tiny, shivering man cowering beneath him.
"I-I believe he's just gotten back, sir," The small servant rubbed his fingers through his fraying, decaying hair, "He should be in the servant's dining room, eating lunch with the rest of us. I should be there as well if I want a proper lunchâ¦" Lopsir quickly walked past Boran, only to be stopped by his fist wrapping around the back of the servant's shirt.
"You stay here, make sure the princess doesn't leave again. She was with her⦠pet." A look of disgust crawled over the knight's face as he thought about Vogaix.
"Her g-girlfriend, sire?" Lopsir gulped, knowing his mistake immediately. The knight's eyes seemed to glow as he began to lift Lopsir off of the ground. "I mean, her half-breed pet?"
"Yes, the half-breed," Boran opened his fist, leaving the servant to collapse on the ground. "I need to go have a talk with the half-centaur friend of ours." Boran stomped away as Lopsir crawled back to the princesses' room. As he made his way towards the servant's dining room, the regal halls of his king's castle lay strangely empty. Something may have happened while he was gone, but he would ask his sire about it after dealing with the half-breed beast. He reached the door leading to the servant's halls, the door was nearly too small for him to fit in, but he managed to squeeze through, his armor scraping against the wooden walls.
The massive knight turned the corner, causing every servant to stare at him. He looked around at the servants. Most were full humans, but there were a few half-breeds, but his eyes landed on the half-centaur, Malachi, who was currently sitting next to the half-harpy, Sara. The two could not be more opposites, where Malachi was covered in bloated muscle and patches of fur, Sara was just skin and bones covered in patches of dark gray feathers. Where Malachi had a lump on his back and a curved spine, Sara had vestigial wings that were constantly twitching. Half-breeds were always pathetic creatures, but these two disgusted Boran more than usual. Sara fiddled with her hands behind her back, "Malachi," Boran stepped towards the pair of half-breeds, not bothering to step over the half-lamia's twisted tail, instead kicking it to the side, "You helped the princess escape. And for that you are to be appropriately punished."
"I'm not sure what you mean, sire�" He looked up at the knight, an almost confused look on his lopsided face. The man growled and put his hand on the half-centaur's shoulder, squeezing the misplaced fat around his hand.
"Sir Boran," A regal voice came from behind the knight. He turned around to see the king, standing there with his cane placed in front of him, his green eyes reflecting the candlelight. Every servant present bowed to the king, except for one. Lopsir sat behind the king, his very bones shaking. "You are not to harm the servants, especially not with due process. If we discover he wanted to harm my daughter, he goes to the dungeon. Not the grave." The king stared at Boran, the fire behind his eyes being perfectly visualized by the candlelight surrounding him. Boran loosened his grip on the servant, who collapsed to the ground soon after.
"Yes sirâ¦" The knight walked towards the king, pushing him and Lopsir aside to leave the cramped space. He slammed the door behind him, tightening his fists and digging his nails into his palms. On the way back to his room, he passed the throne room, its door propped open. Inside was a small looking boy, with black, wavy hair dropping to his shoulders, and striking, purple eyes. He was sitting on the arm of the throne, checking his gloves with his legs crossed. Judging by his outfit he was some royal's child. Though Boran didn't recognize him. And was far too tired to deal with him right now. The knight scoffed and entered his room, closing the door behind him with a sigh. This job was taking too much out of him.
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Khora collapsed on the ground of her room as the door slammed shut. She heard the lock click shut as she leaned against her bed frame. "Assholeâ¦" She looked around her room, trying to see if she could find any way out. Her eyes flicked to her closest, full of the puffy dresses that her father bought her, to the shelf full of books he provided for her, then they landed on the windows. Covered in a stained glass depiction of her father killing the "last" dragon, though of course her vision of the art was covered by bars. He never let her out of the castle, and hardly even let her out of her room. Her very own tower.
The princess rolled her eyes as she flopped down on her bed, hair splaying out like a crown on her head. A crown she'd never wear. A crown that her ancient father stole from her. One hundred and fifty seven years, and the bitch still looks like he's thirty. The princess kicked off her boots, taking a deep breath. Vogaix actually hit Boran. That means they would have a chance. Her father would fall, and she would take the throne. She was his only living child, anyways. Most of the rest of them died from⦠well she wasn't quite sure, nobody gave her clear answers. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, visions of her and her knight running the country filled her dreams.
A knock on her door woke her up, the light from her windows was tinted much redder than it was. It must have been nearing sunset. "What?" She groggily got up, rubbing the crustiness away from her eyes.
"Miss Khora," Lopsir's voice slithered in from behind the door, "Your father requests your presence for dinner. And he would like you to dress properly." The princess audibly groaned, shuffling over to the closet full of dresses that all looked almost the same.
"Tell him I'll be there soon," Khora yawned, reaching towards a rope hanging from the wall. One to call her personal servant, Mary, to her.
"Just don't be long ma'am," She heard footsteps leave her door as she began to undress, leaving her in just her undergarments. She was tying her hair into a bun when she heard another knock on the door.
"What is it you need, ma'am?" Mary's deeper voice came from the door, the lock being unlatched as she spoke.
"Fast as usual, Mary," Khora giggled, she ran over to her door while still tying up her hair. "And I just need some help getting into a stuffy dress," she released the hair-tie with a quiet snap and opened the door, revealing Mary. She was in between Vogaix's and Khora's heights. She was remarkably well kept, her hair was constantly cut short, and she almost always had a tan that complimented her hazel eyes perfectly.
"Of course," Mary smiled and stepped into Khora's room, shutting the door with her foot. The servant pulled the small princess into a tight hug, leaving her feet hanging a bit above the floor. "I'm glad to see you safe! That big, mean knight didn't happen to hurt you too much did he?" She set the princess down as they both giggled.
"Just hurt my wrist, mostly," She rubbed the wrist with her other hand, grimacing as she remembered the knights grip. "I'm fine though," She walked Mary over to the dress Khora had picked out, a relatively puffy white dress, with frilled bits on the edges. The servant smiled,
"Good choice," Mary pulled a corset out of the closet, wrapping it around Khora's stomach, "And how is your half-dragon friend?" She wrapped her hands around the princess, buttoning from the top down.
"Vogaix was good," She winced slightly as the button pushed against her stomach, "Her and Boran got into a fight, and he⦠almost killed her," Khora stopped talking, before feeling Mary stroke through her hair.
"But she's okay, right?" Mary's voice softened, softly moving the corset up to a more comfortable spot on the princesses' torso. Khora nodded silently, rubbing her fingers together. Mary hummed a tune under her breath, slowly tying the corset together from the back. "And how are her treatments going?"
"Oh!" Khora lit up, a smile finding its way back to her face, "They're going really good! She's looking a lot better now," The princess blushed slightly, "Not that she didn't look good before." The servant laughed as she tightened the last knot in the corset, causing Khora to whimper slightly. The princess stood up, she had done this thousands of times before and knew which step was next.
"So her friend is doing good work?" Mary picked up the dress, wrapping its cloth around Khora's slim body. The princess nodded, stepping into the dress as if instinct.
"I'd still love to meet her someday, but for now I cherish the time I have with Vogaix."
"Is that comfortable?" The servant puffed up the shoulders, letting the fabric rest itself on the princess.
"Ah-" Khora twisted around to look at the dress in the mirror, "It's as comfortable as something could be with a corsetâ¦" She smiled and looked at the servant happily, "But yes, you're very good at this Mary." Mary bowed, lifting up the corners of her dress as she did.
"Is there anything else you need, Khora?"
"No, thank you." The servant began to leave, before Khora gripped onto the sleeves of her dress, "Thank you, Mary." Her voice slightly cracked.
"What for, ma'am?" Mary wiped her thumb against her lady's eye, a bit of salty water resting on her thumbprint afterwards.
"Just⦠for caring to ask about my life, father never does."
"Of course, Khora," The servant got on one knee, eyes slightly lower than the princesses'. "I am always here for you, anything you say will always stay between us. Khora nodded slowly, letting go of her servant's sleeves. "Now, put on your shoes and go to dinner," Mary walked towards the door, stopping with her hand on the handle, "I love you like a daughter, Khora. You know that."
The princess put on her shoes as Mary left the room, taking a deep breath as she approached the door. It had been a long time since she had dinner with her father, and it was always⦠tense. She gripped the handle and opened the door, stepping into the hallway, where Lopsir was waiting for her.