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This is a direct sequel to the "Hidden Desires" story line that has been illustrated here: https://www.sofurry.com/browse/folder/art?by=312237&folder=51699

or if you use FA, here: http://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/cheetahs/folder/253775/Hidden-Desires-Comic

In this story, Istaryl and Algaryl ponder upon the aftermath of their lovemaking session, and more surprising revelations make their way into the light, further complicating the relationships of these drakes.

I wrote this story as a gift for my dear friend, The Secret Cave, so definitely check him out if you haven't done that already:

*

Istaryl couldn't sleep, and neither did Algaryl. They had both crawled to different sides of the bed once their afterglow extinguished, separated by the still, sleeping form of Karyl. Istaryl found his tongue, lolling to the side of his mouth, completely adorable. The quadrupedal drake slept straight on his back, fore and hind paws curled inward, toes twitching every now and then. He looked more like a cat than a drake, with feet shaped after those of a feral feline. Algaryl's hands had three fingers in the front and one on the side, characteristic to all bipedal drakes. Karyl, however, lacked that distinct feature, his four stubby toes slitted in the middle to mark the exits of his retractable claws. Soft, black, glossy paw pads marked an additional difference between Karyl and the other two drakes, as only the quadrupedal drakes seemed to possess this feature.

All these differences, from Karyl's sleek, elongated spine to luscious mane and imposing horns, had served only to fuel Istaryl's attraction to his mate. Little did it matter, that Karyl employed his mouth for a plethora of tasks Istaryl solved with his hands, or that his paws were constantly grimy while fondling Istaryl. The red drake had always craved for something different, and his mate incorporated all that Istaryl considered to be exotic--and definitely fascinating--flair.

And yet, that hadn't been enough. Algaryl's presence in their bed--the one the three of them shared as if part of a harem--proved as much. Enchanting and intriguing as Karyl was, his charm still didn't stop Istaryl from lunging headfirst into what slowly, but surely, turned out to be the single, most humiliating moment of his life. What had he been thinking?!

That's the problem. You weren't thinking. You've let yourself be dragged about by that tingle in your slit.

Shame flooded him, forcing him farther from Karyl, until he shrunk in a coiled, crescent position with his tail curled along his belly. He gripped it tightly with cold, clammy fingers, the night suddenly chilly, brimming with terror.

You are clearly overthinking this matter, Istaryl tried to purge his inner demons. Karyl wouldn't set up an elaborate scenario to test your fidelity. He doesn't have the necessary acumen for that, nor the disposition for it. If anything, a harem is exactly what he'd love.

He ought to have slapped himself for insulting his mate, even in his thoughts, but the red drake's muzzle stretched in a wry smile instead. Karyl would have said the same; he would have laughed with Istaryl at the nonsense his anxious mind conceived, and bring back their first time together.

The one where Istaryl had felt equally apprehensive and out of place, just like he did now.

The trust he harbored for Karyl pushed back the cloud looming above him, abolishing the nauseating churning of his gut, bringing warmth to his frigid toes and fingers. Empowered by this strange, sudden, liberating feeling, Istaryl turned to gaze upon his mate. Oh, how he wished he could've kissed that cute fang reaching out for his chin. Or bask in the warmth of those alluring paw pads. Or if he felt bold enough, he might even trade the prickly hay mattress for the smooth, even surface of Karyl's belly.

Algaryl's red, knowing eye drifted towards him, forcing Istaryl on his back, arms at his sides, jaws tense as he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling.

That little...why was he awake?! Couldn't he pretend some more? At least until Istaryl figured himself out? He had been brilliantly convincing so far. Why not continue that winning trend?

Because he looks equally nervous, Istaryl realized after sneaking a glance at Algaryl. It only now struck him that Algaryl strapped his loin coverings about himself. His white chest still laid bare, but the young drake had somehow sneaked out of the bed and rejoined his brother without Istaryl noticing it.

Then again, Algaryl had already proven his knack for being stealthy.

A fierce blush tinted Istaryl's cheeks at the memory of their earlier debauchery, at how his mind had conceived the most asinine of justifications to satisfy his bodily cravings. In a way, he got lucky that Algaryl was a relative of Karyl instead of a complete stranger. On the other hand, he had mated Karyl's younger brother! Without a shred of decency, he had invaded Algaryl's slit and, worst of all, he had let himself be goaded by Algaryl to finish what he had started.

There is no way out of this. Istaryl's ears flattened along his skull, arms wrapping around his bare torso, unworthy of clothes. I'm a pervert to Algaryl, the inn's new laughing stock thanks to Undrethyl's gambit, and a lustful mate prone to cheating to Karyl. He'll tease me about it for sure, and not just once, but a hundred times...

He had to get some rest. These worries began to stretch his weary mind thin, making it nigh impossible to find a solution right now. Istaryl shifted his head to the left slowly, carefully, eyes swerving in Algaryl's direction...

Then immediately shuttering once their gazes met. He curled around himself and fell into a forced slumber as the hay swished, indicating movement. His breaths evened into a slow, sluggish rhythm despite the palpable tension rising with each tap of claws on wood. The footfalls grew louder, and Algaryl's scent stronger, as he rounded the bed to approach Istaryl's side.

Pretend you're asleep. It worked for him, so why wouldn't it work for you?

Istaryl's eyes snapped open as soon as the tip of one of Algaryl's claws poked at his shoulder.

"You're not good at this," he whispered.

Istaryl snarled in response. Whatever this...pretender wanted, he wished not partake in it.

Algaryl pointed his tail at the door, motioning for Istaryl to follow. When the red drake refused to budge, he simply shrugged his shoulders and went on ahead without him.

Wonderful. Just a dozen more steps, and he'd finally be able to rest in Karyl's embraces, as mates should.

Algaryl stopped beside Karyl's hind paws, a knowing smile stretching on his lips.

No, Istaryl mouthed, his voice stripped away by frantic heartbeats. No, no, no, don't!

Algaryl eyes glimmered with that mischievous spark, and before Istaryl had the chance to utter as much as a plead, he slipped the claws of each index finger between Karyl's pads, poking at the soft tissue lining the crevices between his pads.

Karyl's paws tensed, his toes clenching, claws flashing out of their sheaths to rake bloody lines along Algaryl's fingers. The drake's mirth vanished, replaced by a stiff, somber look, disbelief plastered all over his face.

It was Istaryl's turn to grin. Apparently, Istaryl had tormented Karyl's hind paws enough to help him develop a tolerance to the mirthful torture, but Algaryl didn't need to know that.

He may be your brother, but he's still my mate, Istaryl thought, pride swelling in his breast. It carried him out of the bed, rushed him out of the room, and once he closed the door behind them, he finally unleashed that all too satisfying gloat.

"I'm just as surprised as you are. Everybody knows of that particular weakness of Karyl."

Algaryl nodded, completely unperturbed by the blood welling on the dark, mossy green back of his hand.

"We should hold conversation," Algaryl said.

Yes, we should, Istaryl answered in his mind, ill at ease with the drake's rigid, matter-of-fact tone.

He allowed Algaryl to take the lead across the corridor of the first floor and down the stairs. Somehow, his nakedness seemed all the more penetrating after laying with Algaryl, not to mention that he had actual clothes to call his own. As if to stoke Istaryl's irritation, Algaryl adopted a terribly sluggish pace down the stairs, pausing at each step to run the cord through a new hole or tie a knot to fasten his vest across his chest.

You are so great and wonderful, Istaryl mouthed, making various faces behind Algaryl. How ironic, that such imposing drake resorted to laying with his brother's useless, clotheless mate. Had the Stillpine tribe ran out of sycophants to faun over the likes of Algaryl in Istaryl's absence?

Istaryl paused, stunned by this new discovery. What if...Algaryl had been unable to secure himself a mate? For all his achievements, titles and clothes, a naked, untalented drake such as Istaryl had still beaten him at the most important quest of all.

Suddenly, Algaryl no longer seemed such a daunting prospect. Istaryl joined his side at the bottom of the staircase, head held high, shoulders set straight, tail slightly curled to denote a state of calm control over his surroundings.

And Algaryl didn't even spare his flawless poise a glance.

"In the gardens," he said, making his way to the backdoor of the inn.

With the coming of the night, the inn bustled with activity. Drakes surrounded every table, a select few Unclothed forced to stand up and surrender their chairs to their betters. Undrethyl's apprentices rushed between distracted drakes and disorderly chairs, nimble and far too skilled in the art of balance. A petite female even balanced several bowls of soup on her head, keeping them straight with a basic binding spell.

Istaryl's jaw hung in shock at the talents these newcomers displayed. It was just unfair, for a hatchling to come into her powers so early. The fleeting gapes and veiled chuckles forced him to compose himself. For an unexplainable reason, he felt like being mocked, yet not for his naked body this time around.

He increased his pace to walk ahead of Algaryl, but that prompted the younger drake to do the same. The barely conspicuous jeers subsided for a fleeting moment, but as soon as Algaryl caught up to Istaryl, the chuckles grew louder, the fingers and tails pointing at him bolder, their gaze sharper.

"It's not you, but me," Algaryl said, grabbing Istaryl's wrist, practically dragging him forward at a brisk pace. "I don't intend to spend a second more in this place."

As if on cue, Undrethyl stepped right in front of them from one of the several doors leading into the kitchen, the tip of his chest scar poking past the neck of his stained apron.

"Algaryl, Istaryl," he said to each of them, his pupils thin inside those vermilion pools. "Anything you'd like to eat, drink, or inhale?"

Istaryl narrowed his eyes at the last offer, following the direction of Undrethyl's gaze to a table where four drakes huddled around a plant with navy colored leaves and hyacinth colored bulbs that puffed visible strings of miasma in the nostrils of the enchanted drakes.

"Figured it does the lads and lasses much good to replenish their magic reserves in the same place that feeds them. It's a costly endeavor, but every Soother is already packed, so it seemed like a good time to branch off."

"Fascinating. Now step aside."

Undrethyl's crest frills perked at Algaryl's demand, his eyes swerving this way and that to take note of the rising din surrounding the younger drake. A jovial smile appeared on his face, hands stretched forth cordially.

"It's just tavern talk. A few hours ago, it used to be Istaryl. Now it's you. Tomorrow it might be me."

The corners of Algaryl's mouth shrunk. "Better that the spotlight falls on you right now."

Clay jugs, bowls, cups and plates dispersed into fine dust, a tempest that converged upon Algaryl's left hand, materializing into a longsword. Istaryl had seen drakes disperse and reshape the earth into everything they required, but their crafts were crude, barely passing for the real thing. Algaryl's sword had a ridged handle, an ornamented cross guard, and a pommel shaped after the roaring head of Kralgannar, the patron of the Earth Magic guild.

Disapproving groans intertwined with gasps of awe, the inn splitting into drakes who cursed Algaryl for spoiling their feast and those who turned eerily silent.

Undrethyl grunted in displeasure, unfazed by the clay blade pointed at him. "Desperate, are you? Enough to ruin my pottery, by the looks of it."

"Step aside," Algaryl repeated, the tip of his sword inching closer to Undrethyl's neck.

The cook bowed his head reverently, but the fire in his eyes flared rather than extinguish. "Forgive me, but shouldn't I get compensated for my loss?" Undrethyl stopped the apprentices in their tracks with a few quick flicks of his wrist, his jaws set firm against one another.

"After my business with Istaryl is concluded," Algaryl said, looking about the inn, noting the rising growls and groans of Undrethyl's patrons.

"And in the meanwhile, these people are supposed to eat and drink from what?" Undrethyl spread his arms to engulf the inn, approving nods and mumbles backing up his request.

Istaryl couldn't contain his apprehension any longer. "You're just a cook, and he has a sword," his feeble voice warned the innkeeper, smothered by the panic blooming within him.

Undrethyl merely grinned. "Aye, he does, but simply owning a sword doesn't make you a warrior."

Humans had intricate dueling laws, but nothing prevented a drake from seeking justice for their grievance on the spot, so long as they drew first blood without causing too great a harm to the offender. Istaryl grabbed Algaryl's arm, intent on putting a stop to this folly, but a localized, overpowering blast of wind shoved him against the counter, where he crumpled into a dizzy heap.

"I never should have visited this inn," Algaryl growled, falling into a combat stance.

"I wish I wouldn't have entertained your brother's idiotic idea, but fate has a way of sorting itself, even if it demands blood at times."

Algaryl stabbed his sword at Undrethyl's arm, then slashed left when the innkeeper dodged it with a simple tilt of his body. Surprised--perhaps a bit enraged by Undrethyl's quick reflexes--Algaryl advanced recklessly upon his opponent, exposing fatal weaknesses in his rush to score the first scratch on the white drake's hide.

Undrethyl kept his hands clasped to his back, casually ducking, swerving, sidestepping and dodging Algaryl's attacks. He could have easily exploited one of Algaryl's numerous openings to jab the drake and disarm him, but for an insane reason, the innkeeper enjoyed this dance of death.

"You should have gone for a dagger. Less clay casualties, much better control."

Algaryl did just that, transforming his longsword into a dagger in the middle of a lunge. His momentum carried him forward with such strength that the stab would have surely killed Undrethyl, had it landed.

But it didn't. Istaryl failed to see what just happened, the motions too quick for his untrained eyes. Instead, Algaryl's yelp gave the outcome away, as did the clatter of his dagger on the floor, sinking halfway into the pile of clay dust left by the shrinking of his sword into a dagger.

Algaryl hissed at the eerily calm Undrethyl, his wrist twisted painfully to the side.

"I don't know what happened between you and your brother, but I apologize for interfering into unresolved family matters."

Algaryl's aggression reshaped into dull resignation, a weary sigh leaving him. "I knew what I was getting into. It's my fault for accepting in the first place."

As soon as Undrethyl let go of him, Algaryl crouched in front of the pile of clay. He willed it back into a jug, a few bowls, and several tiny cups, not even a third of what he had dispersed in the first place. Not even the most skilled Earth Artisans recovered more than half of the original material after a dispersion, which is why the traditional methods to forge tools still had plenty of craftsmen.

Just as Istaryl began to recover his feet after the surreal display of Algaryl's magic and Undrethyl's martial prowess, the inn exploded into a chorus of cheers, evenly split between Undrethyl and Algaryl. The latter rushed out into the garden, head bowed, visibly ashamed of losing control in spite of the favorable result it had brought. Undrethyl positioned himself in front of the door to stem the tide of drakes eager to make Algaryl's acquaintance, emboldening Istaryl to follow with a warm, confident nod.

Istaryl sneaked past the door, quivering at the loud thud of it slamming shut. He rushed after Algaryl, the pitter patter of his claws as loud and unnerving as the frantic beat of his heart.

Algaryl chose to sit on the second to last bench down the alley leading into the orchard, resting his chin atop the bridge of his clasped hands. The light of the inn barely reached them here, its boisterous chatter an incoherent mumble. "For a brief, terrifying moment, I wanted to kill him."

Istaryl moved to sit beside Algaryl, but the drake pointed him to the bench on the right, several feet away from him. He waited for Istaryl to sit first, gaze following the chitter of a grasshopper hidden beneath the blooming shrubs flanking the alley.

"Our parents had it wrong. Karyl is the better son. What he lacks in prowess, he makes up for in empathy. I have no such skill, Istaryl. I know not what empathy is, what it feels like, or why I do not possess it. Or maybe I used to, before it had been stripped from me. The only thing I'm left with is pretending, but even a fool can glimpse past this too thin veil of deceit."

Istaryl curled his tail in his lap, nervously fondling the tip, staring at the ruddy stripes separating the superior orange half from the carnelian inferior half.

"Ambassador..." Algaryl said, venom lacing that one, single word. "The chieftain would banish, disown me, and forever cast my name out of the Stillpine annals if he heard my confession, but I can't keep it to myself any longer, nor can I endanger Karyl with this information."

Istaryl grew cold. "What information?"

"That every ambassador on this side of the world is also an assassin," Algaryl said with utmost nonchalance, unperturbed by the implications of revealing this sort of information.

Istaryl possessed no such courage. He looked away, staring at the sky, at the copse of trees sprawling in the distance, at the trellises surrounding a fountain resembling the visage of Akralynnar, the patron of the Water Magic guild. He looked everywhere but at Algaryl, the...assassin....

"Move further away if it helps. I assumed several feet is already enough for you to feel comfortable. In truth, you'd have to be on the other side of the orchard to be completely safe, but such distance would make talking difficult."

"I'm...fine right here." Istaryl said, squeezing his tail in the absence of other, better methods to calm his fidgeting. "Why are you an assassin?"

He immediately regretted his straight-forwardness, but Algaryl's pose relaxed, his feet intertwining beneath the bench.

"Tradition. Proud family. Potential. Choice." The last word arrived later than the rest, as if Algaryl resented it the most. He shrugged, dismissing all of them. "Too many reasons, but one sole explanation. There is no single life more important than the lives of an entire tribe. First, it started amidst the bigger, more influential of communities. If negotiations went awry, then why not dispose of a warlord and put a sensible chieftain in their place? An ambassador well versed in all four schools of magic could easily accomplish that. Emboldened by the success of other tribes, the Stillpine has adopted this methodology a few generations ago, and now, it's the ambassadors--the assassins--that keep the peace between the tribes."

Istaryl dared to turn his head left, and found Algaryl's eyes hollow, transfixed by the cobbled path before him. "Have you...fulfilled that particular obligation of your ambassador position?"

Algaryl nodded, his features hardening visibly. "The details are unimportant. It's the results that matter, and you can see them all around you. Behind the rule of every successful chieftain, there is a team of ambassadors molding the landscape according to his interests, and those of their respective village. I advise you keep this piece of knowledge to yourself."

Istaryl slouched under the weight of such responsibility. To think that the newcomers, the prosperous new alliances, the peace that the Stillpine had enjoyed for generations had rested in the hands of drakes as young as Algaryl...it boggled the mind.

"Do you..." Algaryl's voice faltered, the drake fidgeting on his bench. "Do you wish to hear more?"

No, absolutely not. You're a freak, Algaryl, the red drake wanted to say, but instead, he found himself nodding, slowly, inconspicuously turning his head away for fear of what he might have unearthed.

"Very well." Algaryl inhaled a deep breath, letting it out in a slow, calm, reassuring sigh. "How much has Karyl told you of our family?"

Istaryl began fiddling his thumbs, scratching at the ground uneasily. "Only that your mother is a quadruped and your father a bipedal. My mate never mentioned a brother..."

"Better that he didn't." Algaryl sounded strangely relieved, even...satisfied. "We used to despise each other. Karyl resented me for being the family's favorite, and I considered his complaints nothing short of immature blather. His parents have never supported him, so I suppose he simply wanted his brother to be his ally, at the very least. I should have noticed his yearn to fall into my good graces. Would have, if I had at least one good reason to care about him. What need had I of a bumbling, magicless, mediocre sibling? He would have slowed my progress, impede my growth, or muddle my potential. So, for the better part of my childhood, Karyl was naught but unfortunate redundancy in our family."

Algaryl chuckled, a bitter, hateful sound. "It's not the discovery of my earth magic abilities that has turned me into an arrogant wretch, but my parents. Mother was the chieftain's First Imbuer, and Father was both Imbuer and Runecaster. Chieftains from neighboring tribes solicited his expertise to enchant their weapons, and our tribe had gained allies thanks to the mastery of my parents alone. Their ambitions perfectly aligned with mine, so they pushed me harder than they ever dared with Karyl."

"By the age of seven, I have succeeded in learning the basic conjurations for all four elemental magics. The thicker the bloodline, the stronger the connection to magic. I guess my parents chose to ignore the risks of pushing me to the brink, somehow aware that I could endure, adapt, and overcome the challenges. On the dawn of my eighth nameday, they have forsaken Karyl in that honeyed, discreet way of theirs, discarding the chaff so that they could fully dedicate their attention to their true successor."

Thick, unnerving silence fell over the two drakes. Istaryl gawked at the fruit trees blooming in the distance, counting how many cerulean petalled flowers fit onto each bough. He reached the count of fifty-six before Algaryl resumed.

"I didn't want to become an ambassador of the Steelsong Tribe, but neither had I the courage to stand up for myself. So, that's how I earned these vestments, along with many, many others. Too bad I left my twin swords back home. I could have bloodied Undrethyl with a mere windslash. They are powerful, dangerous weapons that change the drake who wields them. You shall know for yourself when you pick a Runecast weapon. Our family has dozens of those, side projects of my parents, always eager to discover the next legendary enchantment on which they can put their name on."

"Which is never," Istaryl mouthed absently, drawing a surprised growl from Algaryl.

"You can't mean that. Aren't you of low birth? Isn't that what your kind always dreams of?"

Istaryl's claws bit into the smooth surface of his tail, his jaws hardening against one another. "The higher the rank, the greater the responsibility. Suffice to say that I don't trust myself with my fire magic, let alone a weapon carefully prodded and tended to by highly skilled artisans over the course of years."

Surprisingly, Algaryl nodded in understanding. "You have to trust yourself before you trust others, which is why there is still a rift between Karyl and I. Things have only begun to improve for us in the recent times, and it is...unfortunate that you got caught in the middle of it."

A fierce blush tinted Istaryl's cheeks, causing them to simmer. "You mean...what happened between us was...?"

Algaryl shifted to the corner of his bench, studying the inn. "Yes. Know that I feel terribly foolish for having gotten you involved into what is, ultimately, a very childish way of solving the conflict between us. But can you expect more from Karyl?"

The younger drake laughed, a soothing, serene sound, unrestrained by the clutch of regret. "He suggested a pact to mend the rift between us. We would each demand something from the other and fulfill it, no matter what it entails. So, I have asked Karyl to make peace with the family he abhorred for so long, and in return, I had to prove him that 'I am not made of the stone I'm so fond of. I can mold it in so many different ways, so why can't I do the same with myself?'"

Istaryl couldn't help but chortle at Algaryl's impersonation of his brother, his voice and mannerisms mirroring his brother almost to perfection.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Algaryl agreed, sliding to the other end of his bench to lessen the space separating the two. "I simply wanted to get ahead of my brother, to show him that I'm not the weird, apathetic, emotionless drake everybody I encounter believes me to be. I used to be like that, but..." His toes curled inward, drawing soft furrows in the dirt beneath his feet. "Just as I've learned to handle magic, so can I start to understand the intricacies of what you call emotions."

"Couldn't you have figured out a better way to go about it? I mean..." Istaryl trailed off, the light breaching through the inn's windows bringing about an involuntary shudder at the memory of carrying Algaryl upstairs without a care in the world, completely oblivious to everything else.

"Blame your mate for it. He could have had Undrethyl reel in any other drake, but he insisted that you are the best candidate for this."

Istaryl leaned forward, propping his elbows against his thighs, chin rested on the bridge of his palms. Blessedly, Algaryl respected his need for silence. Too many thoughts, worries, regrets buzzed through his mind, overlapped by the daunting shame of so willingly stumbling head-first into his mate's deceit.

"Why me?" he muttered, more to himself than as an actual question to Garyl. "Why Karyl's mate?" he asked louder, turning his head to face him. "You can create swords out of clay bowls, possess knowledge of all four elemental magics, and are a respected ambassador. Males and females alike must trample each other over you everywhere you go. That vest is a dead giveaway of a very desirable drake."

Algaryl smiled wryly. "Since when have clothes listened to someone in their time of need? Comforted them, caressed them, made love to them? In many aspects, I'm like the earth itself: stubborn, unbending, unmoving. Vest or no vest, who would want to spend their time with...me?"

He had a point. At least where Stillpine was concerned. The drakes here were too gracious--or perhaps too cowardly--to push too hard against one who refused to budge in order to test their limits.

"No," Algaryl said, shaking his head. "There weren't others, which is why it had to be you. I met Karyl's initiative with furious contempt, but the more he spoke of you, the thinner my doubts grew. What he lacks in magic, Karyl makes up for with his silver tongue, so he wove his grand plan in such way that I willingly volunteered for it. Not for the pact we had in place, neither for his sake. I did it...for myself...to prove that I am not so different from others."

Algaryl pushed himself off the bench to stand up, looking upward at the stars, contemplating. Though Istaryl knew the drake only on the surface, he empathized with the difficulty of his choice. Return to the inn to confront Karyl and--by definition--his inner demons? Or choose the simple, comfortable way out, deeper into the garden and maybe outside of the Stillpine boundaries?

"Don't," Istaryl whispered instinctively, against his very logic. Letting him go would have put an end to all of the awkwardness that had happened between them. Per Algaryl's words, both brothers had come to terms with their past, so if Algaryl left to pursue his role of ambassador, everything would return to normal. Karyl would be Istaryl's--fully his--without any complication to further interfere in their already strained relationship.

"I know what you are thinking," Istaryl continued despite the anxious shivers crawling under his hide. "I've been there too, before and after my return to the Stillpine village. Karyl's affection for me seemed undeserved, his choice erroneous, his tastes in drakes crude and, in my opinion at the time, offensive. It baffled the mind, how a drake such as him could attach himself to a wretch like me, devoid of clothes and abilities alike."

Algaryl kept his back to Istaryl, head cocked to study the darkened, upper windows of the inn. One of them belonged to Karyl's room, his brother and Istaryl's mate.

"Your conflict is different in nature, but fueled by the same fear, of drowning powerlessness. What can you do to change for the better? Are you even capable of that? And if you try and fail, what if the pit you're in grows so deep light no longer reaches you? Were that to happen, you'd never find your way again. You would be completely lost in a foreign realm, all by yourself."

Istaryl grit his teeth. What was he doing, giving advice that he already had trouble understanding, let alone implement it himself? Algaryl was nothing like him; he had great and terrible powers at his disposal, as well as the rank and blood to breeze through any episode of self-doubt, so long as a proper drake aided him in finding the way.

No. There was no proper drake. Not for Algaryl. Not after what could have very well been his first time. So, Istaryl seized upon his faltering courage by taking a small, uncertain step forward. He tried another, hoping to close more of the gap between them, only to freeze in place a moment after.

"It wasn't real, Istaryl," Algaryl said, still absorbed by the window to Karyl's room. "It was all planned. Fake. For Karyl, it must've been a hilarious exercise in character development for his stiff, drab little brother. For me, it was a personal challenge I needed to overcome, but..."

He began to shake his head vehemently, hands balling into fists. "Not like this. Never like this."

He swiveled to face Istaryl, his eyes moist despite his calm, collected façade. "We all had roles, Istaryl. We've been what humans call 'actors on a stage'. Were you one of us--an actor--I would have put this behind me without much trouble. But you aren't. You've never been. You were simply...yourself..."

The drake's smooth voice wavered at the end, betraying hints of guilt, or shame, or both. A pang of irrational humiliation struck Istaryl as well, the red drake's shoulders and tail slouching, his gaze sinking.

"Yes," Istaryl admitted his greatest sin. "I willingly carried you upstairs. I have bent logic, twisted reason, forsworn my mateship to Karyl in a moment of terrible weakness. And for what? Lust?"

He scoffed in derision, fully aware of his true motives. His gaze raised to meet Algaryl's, sudden courage flaring inside him. He had to confess; to let go of this terrible burden, lest he might never get the chance if Algaryl left tonight.

"It was selfishness, Garyl. Pure, unbridled selfishness. I wanted Karyl to despise me; to loathe me to the point where he searches for other, better prospects. He is too kind, too optimistic for his own good, and unbeknownst to me, from a family of proud lineage. All the more reason to force him to discard me. In time, I can only hope he'll grow to realize that everything I've done was for his own good."

Algaryl's eyes narrowed, as if he registered and acknowledged Istaryl's presence for the first time. Words froze on his tongue, only a sigh leaving his half-opened mouth. Algaryl snapped it shut, tail tip twitching in place, ears swerving this way and that.

Do I...unnerve him?

The thought puzzled Istaryl more than it amused him. What could one such as him possibly possess, for a drake of Algaryl's standing to be silenced in such thorough fashion?

"But now...that is all irrelevant," Istaryl continued his earlier idea, hoping to coax a response from Algaryl. "Karyl's ploy--or should I say, the revelation at the end-- might have very well saved our relationship. You..." he paused to match Algaryl's gaze, the intensity of his vermilion eyes as unnerving as ever. "Whether you like it or not, you have saved our relationship." He coughed as his heart skipped a beat, shocked by what his mouth uttered without his accord. "I shouldn't be grateful to you for thwarting my plans, but I am. I really, truly am."

Algaryl cocked his head, visibly shaken. "You are not what I expected. Definitely not how I have initially gauged you."

Nervous laughter fled Istaryl. "I feel the same about you. For an emotionless assassin, you certainly have a way with people. It's worth focusing on what makes you unique, rather than dwell on your lacks. Is what I strive to do myself."

He shrugged at that pseudo psychological bit. It sounded like a flat--and frankly, quite desperate--attempt to get under Algaryl's hide. Why did he want that? What was this intense, all-consuming crave for Istaryl to be the one to help Garyl open himself up to the boundless possibilities awaiting him?

I...cannot...fancy him! He's a complete weirdo! Istaryl rationalized.

And yet, he took a step forward rather than backward, lured in Algaryl's direction by an eerie, unknown force.

"It's strange, isn't it? How either of us could have slipped and ruin Karyl's plan. My nerves could have gotten the better of me. Or you might have--might have given yourself away while I was undressing you!" Istaryl chuckled softly, trembling like a leaf from the concoction of emotions brewing into his head. Uncertainty coalesced with anticipation. Fear of rejection clashed with the excitement of becoming the first drake to befriend Algaryl. The guilt, the shame of ending up in this place was now a mere flicker at the back of his mind, overshadowed by the strangest feeling of sympathy for the younger drake.

Garyl gulped down his own inadequacy with this eerie situation, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have. The stakes were too great for me. I had to fulfill my half of the pact with Karyl."

Still so stiff, so proper! Istaryl found his propriety most encouraging, his feet losing their fearful anchors, carrying him right in front of the fidgeting drake. Istaryl rubbed his fingers against one another, unsure of how to proceed. Touch his shoulder reassuringly?

No. Algaryl's taut posture, tense jaws and stiff tail warned against that.

So, Istaryl smiled, bringing his hands to his chest, fingers fumbling awkwardly as his eyes shifted to the side, the red drake suddenly self-conscious due to the sea of thoughts raging in his head.

"My intentions might have been selfish, and your pact might have been the driving force behind what transpired, but everything else...everything else was real, Algaryl. Past the setup, behind your pact with Karyl, and beneath our combined awkwardness lies a true, visceral experience for us both. Does it matter how it started, or what happened, and the way it concluded? In the end, we both chose our course of action. We could've stopped, yet none of us showed the desire to do that, because we enjoyed each other. I...have enjoyed you, Algaryl."

Istaryl reached out with a tentative hand, only to gasp when Algaryl intercepted it, cradling it as if it was a treasured keepsake.

"And I you," Algaryl admitted, lips trembling under the weight of these words. The younger drake gulped back the tide of emotions trying to break free from the oppressive bonds encasing them, inhaled a deep breath to bring about his composure, and let go of Istaryl.

"You are a better mate to my brother than you give yourself credit for. He has chosen you, but have you chosen him with both heart and soul?"

Istaryl froze. Trapped between the harmful truth weighing on his heart and Algaryl fleeing his field of vision, all the red drake could do was turn around and watch Algaryl flee deeper into the garden.

He's leaving, the icy snake slithering down Istaryl's spine whispered. He's abandoning his brother, and he's fleeing what you have awoken in him.

Stirred forth by an absurd pang of anger, Istaryl practically bounded in Algaryl's direction, intent on tackling him to the ground in order to restrain him.

"Don't."

Istaryl lurched to an abrupt stop when the ground beneath his feet turned into fine powder. He sank up to his knees into the surreally slippery sand, then fell forward onto his hands as it hardened into a makeshift prison for his limbs.

"I'm sorry." Algaryl turned around to repeat the same apology. By now, the distance between them was too great for Istaryl to gauge his feelings, his true intentions.

"You're a coward, Algaryl!" Istaryl yelled from atop his lungs, an unnaturally strong sorrow welling within. "The things you do, and you leave without as much as a goodbye?!"

Istaryl slammed his fists on the ground, wriggling uselessly against the earth's grasp. Algaryl had hardened the motes of dispersed dust halfway to their original form, so a stronger, more composed drake could have quickly and easily escape their predicament.

Not Istaryl. The betrayal stung him far worse than he believed, to the point where all he could do was slouch forward until his brow kissed the ground, fighting back the pathetic whimpers clawing at his throat, begging for release.

"You have a strength that I don't, Istaryl, so the only thing left to me is pursue it elsewhere. You, of all drakes, should understand why I cannot stay."

Did he? Probably. Assuming he cared enough to engage his mind.

"Selfish brat, taking the easy way out after what we've been through..." he mouthed to the ground, not daring to lift his gaze and watch Algaryl's departing form, let alone bid him farewell. In that regard, he was as much of a coward as Algaryl.