Last Hope
A sequel of sorts to http://www.sofurry.com/page/164652 - if you haven't read that one first you should do so, as this one will make more sense.
Also, this one is a fair bit longer. Enjoy :)
The door closed behind her with a kind of cold certainty, sealing away the ruddy flicker of firelight at the young woman's back. The harsh rasp of metal against stone announced that the door had been locked and latched, made proof against any attempt at escape without the permission of the guards beyond, leaving her alone with the suffocating darkness and the creatures that it concealed.
Jaena, however, did not feel the slightest shred of fear. This was her moment, after all, the culmination of all her upbringing, her years of studying, her patience serving beneath her mentor. This was her moment, and more; she was the last one to be chosen, the last from her generation. Deep within her heart, she knew beyond a doubt that that meant something. She was not afraid of the darkness, for within that darkness lie her crowning achievement.
The space before her was just as it had been described. A few stone steps were carved into the sunken floor of the broad cavern, leading down from the now-barred door that was the only means of escape. Directly in front of her, a wide archway had been carved into the cavern, an artificial tunnel that went into the room beyond, the place where she would receive the endowment of power that she had been promised since the earliest days of her memory. Straddling that arched passageway were the only sources of light in the entire cavern, a pair of sputtering torches that did little to illuminate the space. Jaena had to blink at the darkness that clutched her vision. It would take her a moment before her vision would adjust and she would see the rest of the area.
Slowly, as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she began to make out the other features of the room, again exactly as they had been described. Twelve alcoves, six on each side, had been carved into the cavern, their mouths shrouded in shadow, but there had been a recent addition : heavy wooden and steel gates had been set into each one, obscuring their contents from view, each of them locked away with a lock that no ordinary key could hope to open. The gates were a new addition, not a part of the lore that her mentor had passed down to her, but had been installed at the direction of the new high priest some months before. Kellen had the authority, and no one questioned her choice, but here in the gloom Jaena could not help but to wonder why.
She knew full well what was hidden away behind each of those doors; she had long been schooled in the nature of the occupants of those alcoves. There was no reason to hide them away from her vision, for she knew better than to fear the dragons. If anything, they had reason to fear her. As an initiate to the temple, she would bend one of them to her will, claim its magic for her own, and become a priestess in the service of her people. It was much more than that, she knew, so much more. She was not merely any priestess, but she was the last. The twelfth and final to be selected from her generation. Upon her induction into the priesthood, her mentor would retire away from the temple, and no new priestesses would be anointed for a full generation, until she and her sisters had selected a protege for themselves, until High Priestess Kellen deemed that their time had passed.
Jaena was the last of her generation to rise to this honor. That had to mean something.
From beyond the gates she could hear the sounds of talons scrabbling against stone, the low murmur and mutter of deep, resonant voices, but she felt no fear. This too she had been told to expect. The beasts were anxious and eager, willing to give of their potency in a fit of bestial need, too stupid and feral to realize that the very act that their loins drove them to was the enabling of their servitude. They were, in effect, empowering their jailors, forging their own chains, and that fact made Jaena smirk. That such beasts could be the holders of any power and yet fail to master it themselves was a mystery to her mind. How could any creature be so foolish enough to enable its own imprisonment?
She felt no remorse, however. The creatures had visited unspeakable horrors upon her ancestors, and their punishment was just.
There would be enough time to gloat over the dumb beast that was to finalize her ascent to the priesthood, but now was not the time. This would be the last time the drakes would give of their potency for many years; once she was finished here, no one save for the wretched prisoners tasked with feeding the beasts and removing their offal would set foot within these walls for at least a generation. She would be the last. There was power in that statement.
She squeezed the Daughter Staff in her hand tightly as her eyes moved to the left. It was no Controlling Staff, the powerful relic that was entrusted only to the High Priestess; her staff was endowed with only a fraction of its power, but it would be enough. Even the faint power of the dragonstone shard that it held would suffice to cow the feral beasts, to bend them to her will, until she was granted the power to control them of her own volition. She raised the staff in the direction of the third alcove on the left, the target to which she had been directed. All it would take was a flick of power, and the arcane lock holding the gate shut would be undone.
Then a jerking sensation forced her hand to the right. Wide-eyed, she gazed at the staff, directing it back to the third alcove; unbidden, it forced her hand back to the right, pointing at another one of the closed gates. A third time she turned her attention to the alcove she had been directed, closing her eyes and summoning the spark of power. A third time, the staff pulled with enough force to spin her around and face another one of the alcoves.
"What is this?" Jaena whispered softly to herself, glancing at the dull glow of the shard in her staff, and then up to the lock on the gate. She had been brought up to expect a different experience altogether - the generation before her, and all generations before that, had selected their dragon without any guidance, without any gates barring the way. Kellen had made some changes upon her ascension to the sacred position of High Priestess, and such was her prerogative. It had been Kellen herself who had given the instruction to approach the dragon in the third from the left, but the staff was insistent. It wanted to choose another.
Jaena gasped a little as the thought crossed her mind, the flicker of an idea. Dare she challenge the judgment of the High Priestess? No one save Kellen herself understood her reasons, knew why she made the decisions that she made, but no one was entitled to question her at all. As a mere initiate, Jaena should not have even begun to think of straying from those orders. Yet she was more than just an initiate, she was the last initiate of her generation. It might not have been the same as High Priestess, but it had to mean something.
Her eyes studied the staff pointing directly at the wrong alcove, widening a little as the thought firmed up in her head. All it would take was a flick of energy and the lock would open. It happened so fast that it was almost unbidden - with a slight popping sound, the lock swung open and with it, the gate to the alcove. She felt her heart skip a beat. She had just defied the High Priestess, even if it was a slight defiance.
Immediately she looked up into the alcove and watched as the creature it held emerged into the dim light. She had known that the dragons were not as large as the beasts of legend, hardly the size of a full-grown horse, but beasts clad in scales and sharp talons, wicked horns and rows of deadly teeth did not need to look large to appear intimidating. The slender creature that slipped from the darkness, covered in dirty, opalescent scales, bright blue eyes peering out from beneath a pair of ebony horns might have looked beautiful, even regal under other circumstances. Looks were deceiving, however, for even a creature as beautiful as this had a heart as filthy as rot.
The creature opened its mouth as if to speak, but Jaena would not allow it. Thrusting her staff forward, she spoke forcefully : "Silence, beast!" The effect was immediate as the dragon withered in front of her, its jaws snapping shut, its frame dipping low to the ground as it breathed out a quiet keening sound, regarding her with frightened eyes.
That fear made her heart swell, for already the beast was afraid of her. Jaena could feel the smirk forming on her face as she twisted the staff again, sending a shiver of pain up the creature's spine before she pointed at the arched passageway in the back of the cavern. "To the Chamber of Sharing," she said in a forceful voice. Then, on something of a whim, she decided to add to her statement. "I will brook no hesitation, beast."
With another throaty whimper the beast complied, hugging itself low to the ground as it slunk before her in the direction of the passageway. It was a fitting sight, she thought, seeing the beast forced low, almost slithering on its stomach, made to realize that it was no better than the dust and grime that it was forced to walk through on its way to the moment of its shame : the moment of her exultation. The thought of humiliating these powerful beasts was almost intoxicating to her, a reminder of the power that she already held, a reminder of the power that she was about to gain.
The passageway was short, leading to a smaller, round chamber that was lit just as the larger chamber she had come from, a pair of torches set into the wall just at the entrance. Resting in the center of the chamber was a wooden framework, made to roughly approximate the shape of a dragon hunched low to the ground. A flat, cloth-covered platform was affixed to the top, and near the bottom a pair of stirrups. The wood itself was etched with numerous scratches and divots where the drakes had, in the throes of bestial passion, given up their power to the priestesses who had come before her. This was where she, too, would gain her power.
"Please, please child, don't ..."
The dragon's voice caught her almost off guard, and she snapped an angry expression before she twisted the staff in her grip. Immediately the creature gurgled and sputtered as if its throat had closed up on itself, the beast beginning to scrabble and claw at its own throat as it thrashed about. Jaena watched it for several moments, leveling an angry, irritated glare at it, waiting until its eyes were beginning to bulge out before she released her grip, recalling the magic and allowing the beast to breathe. "You will not speak another word," she said sharply, watching with a frown while the dragon collapsed into a pile on the ground, wheezing and gasping for air.
Briefly she thought she had overdone it; if she killed one of the drakes, the consequences would be unimaginable. Without females to breed, the dragons were the only ones of their kind, and if they were lost then the power they held would be lost as well. However, the lack of females meant that the potent power they carried within them was there for the taking; it was a dangerous tradeoff that the sisters of the temple had accepted for generations.
Then the idea of accepting the dragon's gift washed over her mind. There had been no lack of details in this, either, in her upbringing within the temple. The only way to gain the dragons' power was in his seed, and the only way to gain that seed was to give themselves to the drakes' bestial needs. Her mentor, and her mentor before her, several generations back had all come to this place, stripped down and presented themselves before the beasts, had forfeit their sanctity for a moment and allowed themselves to be violated in the most intimate fashion. It was the ultimate test of faith, and one that had undone more than a handful of initiates in the past.
Jaena would not be undone. She did not fear these beasts, and need not fear the joining. She was no stranger to men, as none of the initiates were. Male courtesans, eager to get close to a power they would never wield, were only too happy to share themselves with the initiates in training, in hopes of being selected as a companion to the priestesses to be. Temple companions, though having no power of their own, could expect a lifetime of luxury and pampering within the temple. As the last initiate in her generation, Jaena would have all of the courtesans at her disposal, and she was never hesitant about availing herself of their services, either.
Never before had she been mounted by a creature of such power before, and never again would she feel that kind of visceral power between her legs again. Though part of her body already ached at the thought, knowing full well the drakes were much larger than the most robust of men, another part of her ached in anticipation of what it would feel like. She licked her lips at the thought; already, she could feel herself getting moist.
The dragon before her had regained enough of its composure to stop gasping and wheezing, and it had taken a somewhat fearful stance on the other side of the wooden frame. Frowning, Jaena raised her staff again and pointed it at the dragon. There was no sense in delaying any longer. "Present," she ordered. The dragon instead shook its head and backed off, whimpering. In response she squeezed on the staff again, sending ripples of pain through the dragon's spine. "I order you. Present!"
To her complete surprise, the dragon refused, shaking its head madly. It was common for the dragons to refuse on the first command; it was all but unheard of for the creatures to resist on the second, particularly at the threat of pain. Jabbing the staff forward in a way that caused the beast to recoil in pain, as if it had been slammed with a physical force, she brought her voice to an angry crescendo. "Do not try me, beast. Present!"
With a croaking wail, the dragon threw itself to the ground and flailed. "No, no, no! I cannot, please, I cannot!"
"You can, and you will, unless you desire to feel the true meaning of pain." Jaena was not issuing threats; she was making a promise. "Present!"
"No," the creature protested, casting a baleful gaze upward with its crystal blue eyes, gasping at the sensations of pain that were already being sent into its body. "Please, I cannot, I cannot ... I am a female, I cannot!"
The dragons were well known to employ various methods of deceit and trickery to try and forestall the inevitable. Many had made all manner of impossible promises, tried to strike bargains, or flat out told lies in an attempt to prevent the joining from happening, but this claim was beyond absurd. Never before had one of the creatures made such a lame attempt, invented such an unbelievable lie. It was so unthinkable that Jaena could do nothing but stare, slack-jawed. "What?"
"Please, please, stop hurting me," the creature begged again, writhing on the floor and beginning to pant once again. "Jaena, please! You are hurting me!"
If the outlandish claim about the creature's gender had caught her off guard, hearing her own name completely floored the young initiate. Her mind rushed to try and remember what powers the beasts held, if they had some means of peering into the mind and plucking out a name like that. She could think of no such story, no such tale, yet she could think of no other explanation. Somehow, the creature had used some kind of trickery to learn her name. "How ... how did you do that?"
"Jaena, please," the creature said with a little wail to its voice, cowing before her as it squirmed. "It is I, Marin ... Marin ... please, you are hurting me ..."
Marin. The name was immediately familiar to her. Second only to her own mentor, Marin was the woman who had done the most to welcome her to the temple, done the most to teach her, done the most to ensure that she would grow into a successful initiate and eventually priestess. Marin, the kindly old woman who was more a grandmother to her than seasoned priestess at the temple. Kindly Marin, who had been there to hug her and comfort her when she had received word that her parents had been killed in a fire, far from the temple where she had been studying.
The dragon had the same gentle, crystal blue eyes as Marin. "That's not possible," she muttered with a hint of confusion.
"Please," the creature continued to grovel, as if on the verge of tears. "Jaena, dear child, it is I ... please, you must be able to see it ..."
Jaena could almost hear the woman's voice hidden somewhere beneath the raspy, growling tones of the creature's pleas. She had not seen the woman for almost three months, not since the day of her retirement. She had gone suddenly, leaving behind only a note of well-wishing. It had, at the time, seemed unthinkable to Jaena that the woman would have left without a proper farewell, but she had been informed that it was a decision made by the sisters at the temple, that it would be for her own good. "That's not possible," she repeated, releasing her grip on the staff.
The dragon on the ground in front of her collapsed back to the ground and began to gasp once the trickle of pain was cut off, groaning softly. "It is, child, it is ... they have done this to me ... the temple is not as it seems, the high priestess ... she is not what she seems ..."
Such a statement was incredibly dangerous. Just because she had never heard of such an outrageous lie did not mean it was not possible, but at the same time, she could hear little hints of truth ringing in the dragon's words. Was it possible? "Explain yourself," she said, nearly hissing as she brought the staff to bear, ready to bring the creature down low again at a moment's notice.
"Kellen ... she is not Kellen. She ... oh, I do not know how it happened, the beasts took her, the real Kellen is here, here in this dungeon," the dragon said with a whine. "The Kellen in the temple, she is an imposter ... the beasts in disguise, they have stolen her image. You are in grave danger, child, we are all in grave danger ..."
"That's not possible," she repeated, shaking her head. It was nonsense, she knew it had to be nonsense. The creature shook its head. "Think about it, child. Think of how Kellen has been acting strangely, changing things ... none of us had any idea just how serious it was. One by one they have brought us here, traded our images, warped us to look like them, and they like us. Oh, Jaena! They mean to lay waste to the temple, lay waste to our people. Think of the companions ... they have all vanished, child, they have all been slain. It was ... it was before my very eyes ... they brought my dear beloved Kevin before me, took his head off while I watched and screamed, bathed in his blood ... Oh!"
Jaena watched with a sense of dread as the dragon before her began to keen and sway in front of her, making an inhuman warbling sound that was laden with sorrow. The voice was genuine, but the story ... it was too much. Still, there were hints of truth. The companions of the newly initiated priestesses had mysteriously gone missing; she had been told that they were simply too busy and she had not seen them. It had not made any sense, though she had all the explanations from Kellen on down.
"Oh, child! Jaena, Jaena ... you are the last, the rest of us are imprisoned here in this dungeon, imprisoned in these bodies ... Jaena, you are the last one, you are the last hope ..."
You are the last ... the words echoed in her mind with a strange clarity. She knew she was the last. Before she had come down, she knew she was the last. It had meant something to her, she knew that it was somehow important, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined. She was the last one. "Please child ... you must believe me ..."
Jaena opened her mouth lightly before she let it close again, staring at the dragon incredulously. "What ... what am I supposed to do?" Was this really something she could believe?
The dragon shuffled and scrabbled against the floor, belly scraping against the dust as it - she? - came closer. "Oh, child ... I do not know ... but you are the last. You must stop them, you must save the temple ... you must save us all."
"How?" Again she blinked, flinching when the dragon came closer. To her surprise, the creature leaned up and nuzzled gently at her side, a gesture that was calming and disarming. "I'm not even a priestess yet, I am just an initiate, I have no powers," she complained. None of this made any sense at all. The dragon was surely employing some kind of powerful and convincing ruse.
"You do, child, do not doubt yourself," the creature said in a quiet, compassionate voice. "You have the power of knowledge, you know who they are and what they are, and that gives you power. You have the power of surprise, they will not be expecting any kind of resistance. You wield the Daughter Staff. It is an artifact of power in its own right."
Suddenly the image of the staff urging her away from the chosen stall came to her mind. Kellen, the High Priestess had ordered her into the dungeon to approach a particular stall, to join with one particular dragon for her initiation, but the staff had forced her to choose another. Never in memory would the power of the staff betray the one who held it, and yet it had betrayed the order of the High Priestess, holder of the more powerful Staff of Command, the one person who should have the ability to control it above all others.
Unless Kellen was not who she appeared to be. If Marin was telling the truth, if a dragon had taken the place of the leader of the temple, then perhaps the staff would recognize the gravity of the situation. She was the last hope of the temple, the last one with the chance to rescue them from the dragons. The staff had spoken, and betrayed its false master. The whole story was true. "Marin ... I ... I can't believe what they've done to you. But what can we do? Surely we cannot overpower the dragons ourselves."
Marin shook her head, and again nuzzled up against her hand. "No, child, but I believe it would not be necessary. We need only slay the imposter in Kellen's place to break the curse, break the hold they have upon us. With the power of the Staff of Command, we could force the brutes back into their cages for the rest of eternity. If we are to have any hope of destroying the creature though, we must gather our strength." The dragon paused softly, her head drooping some. "It will not be easy, and you may not like what we have to do. But come, child. We must first make it to your quarters."
Without another word, Marin, in the guise of a dragon, began to slink out of the chamber and back into the central cavern, back where the rest of the stalls were locked up. Jaena followed after a moment of hesitation, before an idea struck. "Wait, Marin. Why do this ourselves? We have other sisters here who could help us, even if they are cursed as you are ..."
"I'm afraid not," she replied, shaking her head sadly. "They are all weakened and gravid; they are heavy with the eggs of their captors. They are in no condition to help us, they barely have the strength to stand and eat at this point. I alone have not yet conceived ... in spite of ... many attempts ..."
For a moment, Jaena felt horrified at having brought that subject up, even if unintentionally. The thought of elderly Marin being bred by the monsters again and again was almost enough to make her shudder. Before she could become too horrified, however, another thought began to permeate her consciousness. If she had freed the others, and together they had overthrown the control of the drakes, their curses would be broken and all would return to normal; she would finally be initiated into the sisterhood, and begin a lifetime of service in the temple.
If she did it without the help of the sisters, however, she would become a savior. She would have succeeded where all others, including Kellen herself, had failed. The High Priestess would have no choice but to abdicate her authority to the one who had rescued her, saved her, saved the temple and all of their people. When this was done, the Staff of Command would be hers to control. The destiny that should have been hers all along would finally come to pass. Perhaps, she reasoned, this was not a disaster at all, but the opportunity she had been looking for.
"Very well," she said, taking pains to keep from letting a smile creep up on her lips. "We will do it alone. "But what of the guards beyond the door? They're not going to let a dragon walk right past them, in spite of anything that I might say."
The opalescent dragon nodded in agreement, quietly crossing the cavern until she was pressed up against the rock, next to the door, speaking in hushed tones. "Call for the guards."
Jaena instantly understood. Positioning herself at the center of the cavern, she raised her voice and gave it a hint of panic. "Guards! Help me! Please come quick!"
The response was immediate. The grating sound of metal against stone echoed through the door as the latch was lifted, and then the door swung outward before the pair of guards all but leaped through the open door, their view of the dragon behind them obscured by the big, heavy door itself. "M'lady! Are you in danger?"
Before she had a chance to respond, Marin went in to action. With frightening speed and ferocity, the elderly woman in the form of a dragon sprung out from behind the heavy door, jaws agape in a terrifying display, talons outstretched as she swiped at the nearer guard. The man did not even have a chance to turn and see what was behind him before those same razor-sharp talons passed through the back of his neck as if he had been made of unfired clay. His spine severed in an instant, he simply went limp and collapsed into a useless heap on the floor.
Jaena almost wanted to scream at the display, but the terror she felt caught like a stone in her throat. She could only watch as the second guard, far enough away that he had a chance to turn and bring his sword to bear, gasped at the sight of his companion collapsing into a useless heap. The dragon was quicker, however, and a mighty lash of the tail crashed against the man's forearm, snapping it below the elbow with the force of the impact. The man dropped the sword with a clatter, stumbling backward and letting out a little gasp as the dragon pounced upon him. In a feeble attempt to ward off the attack, his good arm came up and went in front of his face, but it was too weak a defense. As the man tumbled backward, the dragon's jaws struck with lightning speed, closing down over his throat and ripping it out with a gush of blood, a strangled gurgle the only sound made before it was cut off completely. Even before his body crashed to the ground, he was dead.
The deed done, Marin turned to look at her, the sight enough to make the blood drain from her face. The opalescent dragon had blood spattered all over her face, shreds of gore still dangling from her razor sharp teeth. It was quite possibly the last thing she would have expected the gentle old woman to do, and for a moment she feared that she had just made a terrible mistake. But almost as soon as it had begun it was over, the fire fleeing from the dragon's eyes, only to be replaced with sorrow as her head was turned to hide the evidence of the attack. "Oh, dear child, I am sorry ... so sorry you had to witness ... but there was no other way," she said in a rueful voice as she looked in the other direction.
Jaena supposed it was true. There was no way that the guard could have been convinced of the situation, and they would have attacked the dragon in order to keep it from escaping the prison. Blood would have been spilled. Perhaps the quick attack, vicious as it was, was the kindest way of dispatching the otherwise innocent guards. "Let's just leave," she said in a hush, darting her way past the apparently penitent dragon and out the doorway, into the stairway beyond.
Though she had never considered it before, she realized that the passageway itself had been designed with dragons in mind. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Marin pass through the doorway behind her, talons scrabbling against the stone steps that seemed to have been cut wide enough to keep the creatures from stumbling. The broad, tall passageway had also necessitated a gentler slope, and as a result it was much longer than otherwise necessary to reach such a depth beneath the temple.
Her heart raced the entire way to the surface, and as she came out she had to shield her eyes from the brightness of a torch that burned just beyond; she had neglected hers back in the prison and had made the climb in near darkness. "M'lady, are you well?"
Startled, she turned to see another guard looking at her with concern. She had to force herself not to become further startled by the sight of Marin exiting the dungeon, blood-spattered muzzle emerging from the darkness mere paces behind the guard. They had both apparently forgotten the single guard who was tasked with the outer entrance to the dungeon.
"I am," she said, thinking furiously. Two innocent guards had already fallen, and Marin would not forebear long. She did not want more innocent blood being shed tonight. "Though I am hot ... please, be a good man and fetch me a drink," she said, reaching up to wipe the sweat from her brow. She was surprised at just how much there was.
"Of course," he said, stepping over to a large pitcher of water that he had stored in a small provisions chest. He kept his back to the entrance long enough for the dragon to slip out unnoticed and slink into the darkness of the trees beyond, unseen. Jaena breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she had at least saved this man's life. Hopefully no more innocents would die tonight. There would be changes when she became High Priestess, she told herself. The dragons would be made to pay dearly for the torture that her sisters had been put through, but that would pale in comparison to what they would be made to endure for the blood of those guards below.
The guard stepped up to her with a warm smile, offering his now filled flask of water. "It is not the purest water, I fear," he said by way of apology.
She took the water and drank it quickly, surprised at her own thirst. "It is cool and fresh on my lips," she said, feigning a smile. "Thank you, and goodnight," she added, before turning on her heel and beating a hasty retreat toward the temple proper.
The prison, while not inside the temple itself, was fortunately situated within the temple compound, and thus she would encounter no more guards on her way to the entrance to the temple, and her quarters beyond. The night was dark and moonless, and as she began to ran toward the massive temple that dominated the walled compound, she realized that it was a fortunate thing. Marin, she hoped, would have the good sense to stick to the well-manicured gardens and orchards that hugged the perimeter of the compound, staying out of sight of any eyes that might be peering from the temple's many balconies and porches, but just in case the woman wearing dragon's scales strayed out into the open, the dark of the night might just be enough to disguise her.
As Jaena finally reached the bottom of the steps leading up to the temple, she looked around furtively for anyone who might be watching, but there was not a soul in sight. It was late, and the courtesans would have already been sent to their apartments within the temple itself, while the guards would only be patrolling the gates to the compound. The remainder of the temple staff would probably be preparing for sleep in their quarters, and the priestesses themselves would be busy with the sorts of temple duties that she hoped would soon be her own. Rather abruptly she remembered that they were not priestesses at all, but dragons in disguise. She felt a cold chill down her spine as she wondered what to expect within the walls of the temple. Would they be there, just inside, expecting the last of their brethren to show up, looking like her?
The sound of claws scrabbling against stone echoed behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Marin slinking her way up along the edges of the steps. The opalescent dragon met her at the top of the steps, just outside of the main entrance to the temple. "I do not think I have been spotted," she said quietly, hardly winded at all by the dash across the compound.
Jaena could not quite say the same, for she already had to catch her breath, leaning against the doorway and shaking her head. "Good ... good ... but now I am afraid. What if they are waiting for me beyond this door? What will we do, then?"
"I don't think they will be," the dragon said in a quiet little whisper. "From what I understand, they will probably be at the top levels of the temple. It is said that they are using the holiest of our shrines as some kind of ... of ... some kind of terrible ceremonial altar ... covered with the blood of our beloved ..."
The dragon's form shook slightly, and Jaena could not help but to reach forward and pat the creature gently on the side. "Fear not, Marin. We will avenge your Kevin," she said, as sincerely as she could. She meant full well to make good on the promise. The beasts would indeed pay for their sins, would learn to regret what they had done to the companions, would pay for any blood shed, would pay for any unholy desecration of the temple. They would pay.
Marin nodded, hanging her head lightly and resting it against Jaena's side. "I know, child, I know. But as I said, first we must prepare. Quickly, we must make our way to your quarters, before we are seen. The dragons themselves may be occupied with their blasphemous rites, but they are not the only ones in the temple, my dear. Your arrival will be expected."
The young woman's eyes widened as she wondered what was meant by that, but before she could ask, Marin turned and pushed the door open with her head. She doubted that the temple itself had been built with dragons in mind, but the opulence afforded it the same effect; the main doors to the structure were large enough to accommodate several of the creatures, and the enormous interior of the temple itself would probably have enough space for dragons to take flight.
It was not the first time Jaena had set foot in the grand structure. She had an apartment here, herself, on the third level, where the other initiates were housed, and for the past five years of her life she had walked through these doorways at least once a day, yet she still never could get over the awesome impression it left on her. The temple was said to have been constructed over the space of a generation, and she could believe it. Massive as a small mountain, it towered high over everything in the area. The lower levels were, for the most part, a great massive, open structure ringed with smaller rooms, alcoves for praying, art decorating the walls as far as the eye could see. A massive, ivory-white staircase dominated the lower levels, rising upward to an equally massive landing, where a second level of rooms overlooked them. Higher levels were reached by a series of broad, twisting stairways, none so impressive and dominating as the first, placed at the sides of the building so as not to block the sight of a series of enormous, glittering chandeliers that dangled from the ceiling, five levels overhead, casting a thousand tiny rainbows on the floor at their feet.
She knew that beyond those first five levels, the temple became smaller, slender, changing from a massive building into a narrow tower that reached skyward. There were no more rooms, no more residences there, just a spiral staircase that led ever higher, till one reached the very top where the most sacred of all the rooms in the tower was to be found - The Cloister. Open to the skies above, it was said to have been surrounded by a series of intricate arches carved into the walls of the tower, a great stone crown of sorts resting atop the temple, from where the sisters of the priesthood could gaze upon the world below them, performing their sacred rituals to bless the people there far below. It was there that the eleven seats of power could be found, and in their midst the throne of the High Priestess, said to have been endowed with magic that would refuse any but the leader of the priesthood herself to rest, from where she would direct the entire kingdom toward its future.
Jaena had long urged to look upon that throne. As she now looked nervously about the inner courtyard of the temple, the massive stairway in front of her, she could not help but to imagine that she might instead be the one to take that seat of power for herself. First, though, she would have to make it to her quarters undetected. Marin had said that someone might be expecting her. Who could it be?
As she was the last of the initiates, there were none left in the second level residences, none but herself. No one had seen them so far, and she began to relax, no longer fearing that they might be caught at any moment. Slowing as she approached her own room, she turned to look at the dragon following closely behind her. "Marin ... what do we do now?"
"Neither you nor I have the power to challenge the beast in Kellen's form. Not only does it have the foul powers that all the dragons enjoy, but it has the Controlling Staff in its grasp! No, it would strike us down before we had the chance to draw breath. We must augment our on power, we must equip ourselves for this fight. Already you have the Daughter Staff, but we need more."
"Where are we going to find more power? I don't understand ... what can we do?"
The dragon stopped, and she felt compelled to do the same. "That is why we go to your quarters, my dear. It is the one who is waiting for you there, even now ... he is the one that will empower you ..." Jaena furrowed her brows as she tried to think of who might be waiting for her there, but as Marin spoke the word he, a thought became suddenly clear in her mind. "Darius?"
"Darius," the transformed woman said, voice raspy and unnatural as she spoke the name of Jaena's favored consort. "My dear Kevin was slain by the beasts, but they have not all suffered the same feat. What is it that drives many of the courtesans, if not lust for power, child? Some have allowed themselves to be ... corrupted by the dragons' influence."
"Corrupted?" She repeated the word with a bit of hesitation in her voice.
The opalescent dragon nodded, head bowing somewhat sadly. "Those who thirst for power were promised just that by the beasts. In exchange for their loyalty, they are given a measure of the beasts' power. For promising to serve as their human servants, carrying out their will in the new kingdom that the dragons plan, they are promised a power of their own."
The statement was hard for Jaena to believe - was it even possible for men to draw power from the dragons? It was only by stealing the latent force of the dragons' seed that the priestesses were able to empower themselves, and she had never heard of a man so much as attempting the same. If it was true, however, the implications were frightening. "Darius ... he's not so power hungry as the rest ... surely he is not corrupted ..."
"Those who do not comply are slain," Marin rebutted, voice becoming a little severe. "If Darius yet lives then you can be sure he has fallen to their designs. If you still cannot believe, then pay attention when you enter the room, child. He will have already been endowed with a measure of their power, but promised so much more if he is to lay the dragon who enters the room in your form, bonding himself to that creature forever. What benefit this is to the dragons, I do not know, but I do know that he will be so hungry for power that he will insist on it like never before. He will think of nothing other than undressing and consummating the unholy pact he has entered in to."
Jaena was deeply fond of Darius; otherwise, she would not have chosen him to be her consort. Whether it was something that could be called love, she was not certain, but she did know that she cared for him deeply. The thought that he had been swayed by the dragons' promise, that he would have sold himself out so willingly left a bitter taste in her mouth. "What then, Marin? What am I supposed to do ... how is this going to help us, at all?"
"You must slay him, child. I know it pains you to think of it, but it must be done. The power that he possesses must pass on to the one who draws his blood, and that power will become yours."
"I ... I can't do that," she protested. "There must be some other way ..."
The old woman managed to look old and sad in spite of the strange form that she was in. "You must. When he realizes you are not one of the dragons, he will slay you himself, and then all is lost. You must allow him to think that you are not yourself, you must allow him to think that he is going to get what he seeks ... and when he is most vulnerable, cut him down. The Daughter Staff has the power to slay a man, but you must make it quick. If he has time to react ... and counter the power of the staff ..."
The sentence was never completed. Jaena turned to look at the doorway to her quarters, feeling a knot forming up in her throat. She could feel the heft of the staff in her hand, having almost forgotten it, though now it felt suddenly heavy, as if it were made of lead. "If this is the only way," she said, in a whisper, letting her own thoughts trail off. If it was the only way, she would have to do it. Darius' death would be an unfortunate incident on her path to victory, a tragic loss before she ascended to the throne far overhead and enforced her own sort of justice on these foul creatures. The blood of her consort was to be upon the heads of those beasts, just as they would be held responsible for the deaths of the guards not long ago, for the deaths of the other consorts, for the torture of her sisters.
Squeezing the staff in her hand, she strode forward and pushed the door to her room open.
As Marin had predicted - as she should have predicted, as well - Darius was there. The man was essentially her own age, and very easy on the eyes. Muscular, tall, his hair dark and straight down to his shoulders, his eyes piercing and lively. A smile formed on his lips as she entered and shut the door behind her. "You're here, at last."
"Have you been waiting long?" She tried to keep her emotions at bay, tried to get a read on him. Marin might have been wrong, she told herself; there was still some chance that he was uncorrupted and might be saved.
He ignored the question completely, getting to his feet and stepping quickly over to where she stood. She could feel his hands going straight for her waist, sliding around to touch her on the small of the back, leaning in and whispering into her ear. "I ... I didn't know what to expect. Somehow I thought you might look a little different, feel a little different ... but you look just like my old Jaena ..."
She could feel her heart dropping to her throat, closing her eyes. His words seemed to verify what Marin had been saying - he had been expecting something other than his old Jaena. Already his hands were slipping southward and cupping over the curve of her backside, pulling her in close. She couldn't let him realize that she had not changed, that she was just herself, and, swallowing her fear and sadness, she slipped her own hand down toward his crotch to unlatch his belt. "I should have known, you would be this eager."
"Ooh ... I've been waiting for this," he said, his voice taking on a slightly unsteady note, leaning back and flashing a wicked smile in her direction. "I'm ready for you," he said, hushed, already tugging his pants down and leaving him partially naked in front of her, already sporting a throbbing erection.
Jaena shuddered lightly and squeezed the staff in her hand. The elderly woman had described the moment exactly - he clearly had a single purpose, a single desire. The instructions had been clear. She would have to strike him down at his most vulnerable. The staff felt heavy in her hand once again, doomed to become an implement of death and destruction. Before she could drop too deeply into that sad realization, however, she reminded herself that it was more than merely an implement of death. It was to be the key to her salvation, the key to the salvation of her people, and more importantly, the key to her rise to the top. Darius had given himself over to the darkest of forces, and he had signed his own death warrant when he had made that pact with the monsters. Feeling her body go tense, she waited till he pulled his shirt up over his head, waited for that brief moment when the cloth was wrapped around his face. Again she squeezed the staff, willing it to action.
She had never used the staff against a human before, and did not know how easy it would be. In the space of a heartbeat, the perfectly chiseled form in front of her spasmed and thrashed, the handsome man falling to the floor with a pained, choking sound. In her mind's eye she imagined an invisible hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing, crushing, and he responded exactly as she expected. He reached for his throat, clawing at the invisible force crushing his windpipe, trying to pull the shirt away from his face, his feet kicking wildly at the ground.
After a moment he managed to pull the shirt away from his face, and shot her an angry, betrayed look. She knew if he had the chance he would retaliate, strike back, so she clenched the staff tightly in her hand. His face went red as his eyes began to bulge out, still clawing at his throat, white spittle frothing out of the corner of his mouth. The end came suddenly, however, as his body stopped thrashing, going rigid on the ground in front of her. His eyes rolled back in to his head, his tongue protruding from his mouth as he fell back to the ground, twitching one last time before going still, his lips already turning blue. He was gone.
As the life left his eyes, she felt her strength go out like an extinguished candle. The staff fell from her hand with a little clatter, and she found herself leaning against the side of the wall where she stood, closing her eyes and suddenly shuddering. She felt as if she would just collapse and cry when she heard a soft, quiet voice speaking up. "I am sorry you had to go through this, child ... no one should have to be the one to mete out such a sentence ..."
It was Marin, speaking through the form of a dragon, eyes apologetic as she pushed her way quietly into the room. "Marin ..."
The dragon stepped up to her side and nuzzled gently beneath her shoulder, and she found herself leaning heavily against the creature as it spoke again. "I wish that you could rest, but I fear our task is not yet done. We have another obstacle to overcome before we can face the beast masquerading as Kellen."
She was not entirely sure what else she would be able to do. It was only the promise of glory, the knowledge that what she was doing was going to bring her the accolades and the honor that she rightly deserved, which reassured her and made her able to lift her head again. She was on the verge of tears, but she managed to keep her eyes dry. "What obstacle have we yet to face?"
"There is another who is coming, one of the dragons themselves, come to check on your progress ... I fear that it may be difficult for you to face this challenge, as this dragon has taken on the form of ..." The statement was interrupted as the door swung open again. Jaena turned in surprise to find herself face to face with another older woman, a woman with a strict, hard face, thin lips that had pulled themselves into an eternal scowl. Icy blue eyes stared right back at her, stark in that wrinkled face, framed by silver hair that had been pulled back into a tight, orderly bun at the back of her head. She had always felt somehow small and childish in the presence of Lynne, her mentor, but somehow now she felt even less secure, as if she had been caught in some kind of mischief.
Lynne held her gaze for only the briefest of a second before those harsh, icy blue eyes flicked over to where the opalescent dragon stood, already baring her teeth and snarling. The priestess did not seem as surprised as she ought to, however, reacting only with a frown befitting a mentor of her stature. "You ... you should not be here," she said, her tone judgmental as she addressed the dragon.
"You will not stop us," Marin said with a low, irritated hiss before she coiled her muscle and struck out, jaws open and claws slashing at the air in front of her. Jaena took a step back and threw her hands in front of her face, a scream lost in her throat as her voice refused to cooperate, shielding herself from the splash of blood and gore that she knew was coming.
Yet it did not come. Bewildered, she dropped her hands and looked, stunned, as she witnessed the dragon, stopped a few feet in front of the priestess, jaws still agape and snarling, as if frozen in place. Lynne stood with her own hands in front of her, fingers outstretched, muscles tense and shaking lightly, yet she too stood without motion. The pair stared at each other intently, eyes full of anger and hate and malice, yet neither moved an inch from where they stood and stared each other down. Her mentor was the first to speak, obviously addressing the dragon. "Your little plot will fail," she said, a sneer in her voice; she had always been adept at humbling her students with nothing more than her voice. The dragon now apparently using her form was equally proficient at using that particular talent.
Marin did not hesitate to respond, snarling and hissing. "That is where you are wrong, you monster. Your reign of terror over us will end as it was always doomed to end."
It took Jaena a moment to realize what was going on. The pair were not simply standing motionless to stare at each other, but there was a different kind of fight going on, an intense struggle that she could not see with her eyes. She was just an initiate, her senses to these kinds of things were too dull, too unrefined, but hidden there somewhere just beyond sight was a frightening torrent of arcane power, one combatant lashing out at the other, each just strong enough to hold the other at bay. Then she understood the look of intense concentration that Lynne - or the dragon in her form - was wearing, as well as the similar look upon Marin's features.
Marin, however, looked to be tiring more quickly. The opalescent dragon's snarl was beginning to fade, the grimace on her snout beginning to quiver. Abruptly the dragon took a heavy step backward as if she were pushed back by a physical force, but then she rallied, breathing out a low, angry growl. "I will not allow this to continue ..."
Lynne, the real dragon, looked to be as collected as she had been from the start, save for a little bead of sweat that was forming on her forehead. "Who are you to challenge me? Your power has waned down in that dungeon, your potency has faded with age. It is _your_sorry attempt at escape that will not be allowed to continue."
Again Marin seemed to stumble backward, reeling from the impact of some unseen force. Though she had once been endowed with a power equal to that of the Daughter Staff that Jaena herself now held, there was no telling what kind of effect being transformed into a hideous beast would have had on her innate powers. The dragon in Lynne's form seemed to be in command of nearly as much - if not just as much - power as her mentor had held. Had they truly stolen the woman's power before? The woman's fist tightened into a ball, as if she sought to choke off Marin's breath, and the opalescent dragon gasped in response. "She is ... stronger than I anticipated ... help me, child ..."
Before she could make any move, however, the dragon in Lynne's form snapped out a harsh command. "Do not interfere in this, initiate! I will deal with you later!" Her voice was powerful in spite of the hint of strain that it held, the dragon proving to be every bit as capable of verbally cowing her as her mentor had been.
"Please," Marin called out, clearly faltering. Another barrage of invisible blows had caused her to shuffle backward, toward the wall, fighting against a force as unrelenting as a cyclone. "I cannot ... cannot last much longer ..."
Jaena realized that everything was on the line. If Marin perished now, there would be nothing she could do to stop the dragons and their terrible plot. Dreams of wresting the position of High Priestess would mean nothing if they failed in this moment. She had seen what power the daughter staff had over other humans, but Lynne - or whatever had taken her shape - was no mere human. It was a dragon that had stolen Lynne's power. Not knowing what to do, she raised the staff, squeezing every last shred of power out of it that she could muster, flinging it in the woman's direction.
She flinched. For all the power that had been flung in Lynne's direction, she merely flinched, casting a deadly gaze in Jaena's direction. A heartbeat later, however, the impact of that flinch made itself known. Though Jaena could not see the raw power being flung about the room, it must have been enough of an interruption to give Marin the opening she needed. With a blood-curdling roar, the opalescent dragon leaped forward, jaws agape, snapping them down over Lynne's head before there was a chance to react.
Once again, Jaena threw her arms in front of her face to protect herself from the blood she expected, and once again, it did not come. Opening her eyes, she was bewildered to see the dragon's jaws had stopped around Lynne's head, clamped on tight but stopping as if they had met stone. Lynne, or rather the dragon in her form, stood paralyzed, eyes open wide and jaw gaping open even wider in a frozen expression of excruciating pain. For a moment neither moved, but then Lynne seemed to tremble, her eyes rolling back into her head, her arms spasming outward before she was engulfed in a cerulean conflagration so bright Jaena had to shield her eyes anew, stumbling backward with a startled gasp.
The flash died out as quickly as it had sparked to life, but it was a moment before Jaena dared to open here eyes. Warily the initiate lowered her eyes and blinked, peering into the center of the room where the conflict had taken place. There was no sign of Lynne - no gore, no blood, no pile of ash left where she had been standing. Marin was splayed out on the ground, alive and uninjured but apparently exhausted, the dragon's frame rising and falling in deep, heaving breaths. "Marin!"
The opalescent dragon looked up at her with a foggy, confused expression for a moment before managing something like a weak smile. "Ah, child ... you did it. You saved me."
Jaena took a hesitant step forward, looking down a the dragon with a wild-eyed expression. "What ... where did she go?"
"The beast is defeated," Marin said with a grim finality. "The power she held is hers no longer. Without it, her form was unbound and she ... ceased to exist."
"Then it is done ... we are safe, right?"
With some effort, the dragon hauled herself up, shaking a bit unsteadily. "Hardly, child. The immediate danger has passed, but a greater danger looms ahead. Her absence will soon be noted by the others who have infiltrated the temple. Their leader - the beast masquerading as Kellen - will undoubtedly soon come to investigate. Oh, child! The power that creature holds ... and it weilds the Controlling Staff! The greater danger, the real battle looms before us. We must be prepared!"
"Kellen?" Jaena swallowed down her fear, suddenly feeling uneasy. The Controlling Staff was said to be the most powerful artifact in existence. What power the Dragonstone it contained might have in the hands of one of the beasts themselves was a question that she could not answer - and dared not try to imagine the answer. "How ... how can we fight against that?"
"We are not powerless, child. You still hold the Daughter Staff, no mean instrument itself, and you have absorbed the power of the corrupt courtesans. The power of a priestess still flows in my veins, and I have now claimed the power of a dragon for myself. Such powers used at once should be ... formidable."
The initiate nodded at that, a little warily. "Then, together, we have a chance."
A long moment of silence passed, the elderly woman in dragon form slowly dipping her head until she was obviously looking at the ground. "I am afraid that I cannot help you in this, child. I am old and tired, and I have already overexerted myself tonight. I would stand no chance against the leader of these beasts."
Jaena was stunned to the point of being unable to speak. She merely stared that Marin, her jaw slack, before she began to shake her head slightly. "No ... no, that's not possible, I ... how can I do this on my own? I don't ... you said you have the power of a dragon, you've claimed it. I will need your help."
"I cannot." Marin kept her head low, shuffling backward with a heavy sigh. "I am too weakened, I would be of no use. But the power I have within me ... that I have taken, I will give it to you. Then you will be enough to stand up to the beast that has stolen Kellen's form."
At first the young initiate wanted to protest; the thought of having to come face to face with a creature powerful enough, cunning enough to have worked its way into the position of High Priestess bringing a chill to her bone. But the prospect of gaining the kind of power that might allow her to defeat such a creature was almost enough to make her salivate. "But ... but how?"
"There is a way," the opalescent dragon said, cringing and drawing back until she was pressed against the side of the bed, almost stumbling, clearly looking uncomfortable. "There is a way ... the dragons, their methods of sharing their powers is somewhat crude but effective. That is still ... still open to us."
Jaena knew what she was talking about. All of the initiates knew about it from a young age, of course, knew that they would be forced to couple with the beasts in the culimnation of all their preparation, that just such a joining would be the moment when they gained their priestly powers. But how that would work with Marin escaped her. "I don't understand ... I know how the dragons' power is used, but they are males. You are not. There is no way we could couple like that."
"No," the answer came, a little hesitantly. "No, we cannot. But there is a way." Slowly, reluctantly, the dragon climbed up on the bed, shifting to her side and collapsing there with a bit of a heaving sigh. The long, slender tail was pulled out of the way to reveal what must have been the entrance to her sex, a fairly discreet break in the scales to form a slit, angled to make it easier to see.
"I still don't understand ..."
Marin interrupted with a pained expression. "You must partake."
For a few seconds more Jaena continued to be confused, glancing back at the dragon's face. Her eyes were closed, though, as if in shame. The initiate looked back down at the displayed slit, this time noticing the slightly milky fluid that was beginning to seep from the vent, glistening lightly on those beautiful, opalescent scales. When the meaning of those instructions became clear to her, her eyes widened and she took a step back. "You want me to ..."
"I do not want_you to, child." Marin's voice was lined with regret and pain, her eyes still squeezed shut. "I do not want you to have to do any of this. I do not want you to have to face these beasts. I do not want you to be responsible for the future of the temple, for the future of us all. I do not _want_you to, but you are the last one, you are the only one who can do it. I do not want you to, but you _must."
The allure of that power that she had felt only moments before seemed to wane in the face of what she was being asked to do, of what she had to do. The prospect of spreading her legs for a ravenous male was one thing, particularly with the promise of what she would gain in the end. The prospect of burying her face between the legs of a female dragon for the same promise was somewhat more difficult for her to stomach, particularly with the knowledge that said dragon was actually a kindly old woman who was more a mother to her than anything else threatened to cause her to lose her stomach. "Marin ..."
"I wish there were another way, child, I truly do ..."
The elderly woman continued speaking, but the words became lost to Jaena. She understood the necessity of the situation, the gravity of the moment, but even that did not penetrate her thoughts. Instead, she found herself weighing the scenarios in her head. To refuse was to leave her sanctity intact, to choose certain death and defeat knowing that she did not stoop to this kind of base humiliation. To accept, however, was to trade any sense of innocence she might have for a kind of power that was all she had been raised to expect and more. The power of a priestess, the power of a dragon ... _and_the power to become the heroine of the temple, to save the sisterhood, and possibly even claim the Controlling Staff for herself. It was the sort of thing that an initiate like herself could only have dreamed of.
It was enough to make the decision for her.
Jaena took a few steps forward, swift and confident strides to help shore up her resolve. She knew that she couldn't hesitate, couldn't stop to think about what she was doing, or she might find a way to convince herself to back off. Falling to her knees at the foot of the bed, she clutched the corner of the mattress, leaning in until little other than opalescent scales filled her vision. The little cleft in those scales was there, in front of her face, glistening lightly with the milky fluid that had built up on either side. She couldn't stop to think about what she was doing. Moving a hand forward and resting it on the dragon's thigh, she closed her eyes and leaned in, parting her lips and letting the tip of her tongue hang out just enough to lead the way ...
For the first second, there was no taste, just the sensation of something damp and vaguely moist against her tongue. The taste came after, a faintly musky sort of aroma filling her nose, a kind of passing bitterness washing over her tongue, but then it was followed by the most curious tingling sensation. Instinctively she pulled back, but she then forced herself back to the task, pressing her tongue more flatly against those scales, enough that she could make out the shape of the gap between them, dragging her tongue upward to wash away the hints of moisture that had gathered there.
Again there was the faint tingle on her tongue, and as she swallowed, the tingling went down her throat and became a vague warmth in the pit of her stomach. It was the same sensation that she got from strong drink, but there was no hint of alcohol on her tongue now; it had to be the sensation of the magic, the power, flowing into her. Once again she ran her tongue against the dragon's scales. Her ears registered a sound not unlike a quiet moan, but it was the sensation of that tingling warmth running down her tongue, into her throat and to her belly where it gathered that had her attention.
Power was gathering within her. She did not recognize it, did not yet know what to do with it, but the warmth was building tangibly in her stomach. Any hint of revulsion fled her mind at the realization, and Jaena was suddenly ravenous for that power. With a sudden, wanton eagerness she pressed her head in, wedging her face against the dragon's scales, her lips pressed firm to that vent, her tongue lapping at the entrance and probing forward. The musky fluid was lapped up and pulled into her mouth before it had a chance to work its way out on its own, draining down her throat with a warm tingle. Again she could hear the sound of a moan registering in her ears, but she couldn't really be concerned with that. Of course the dragon in front of her was going to feel pleasure at this; it was the only way to get at what she needed.
It was a small price to pay, after all. Perhaps it was merely the seduction of the power, but Jaena realized she was already beginning to feel slightly damp between her legs, as well.
She wasn't sure how long she had been at it, or how long it would take. She wasn't even sure how it would feel, when it happened, but the tingling warmth in her belly was still only a small clump of heat, growing and spreading only slowly. Hungrily she lapped at Marin, swallowing down the hints of fluid, wishing that it would come more readily. She was not in the least familiar with the anatomy of dragons, but her exploring tongue wandered across a firm little lump and she gave it a pointed caress with her tongue. The dragon responded with a more plaintive groan, and she was rewarded with more of that fluid, taking it into her belly. She had found the dragon's clitoris, no doubt, and the means to stimulate her properly.
Focusing her attention on that nub, Jaena eagerly lapped up at her prize. The sound of breathing in her ears was becoming more rapid and shallow, and she could feel the caress of what must have been a tail behind her head. Marin was willing to forget the circumstances of their transgression as well, it seemed, giving herself over to the pleasure and the sharing of power. It didn't take long for the clitoris to swell enough for Jaena to wrap her lips around it, caressing it with her tongue, coaxing more of the fluid out. Hers for the taking; power for the taking.
It was only after a moment of confusion that Jaena realized the nub of flesh was continuing to swell, pushing up past the dragon's vent and into her mouth. With a start she tried to push back, but the tail at the back of her head was insistent, holding her in place. Confusion gave way to emerging panic as the swell in her mouth continued, thickening, pushing its way along her tongue further back toward her throat. Muffled protests were almost lost beneath the raspy grunts that the dragon was now breathing, hips gyrating slightly against the bed. Jaena began to gag, swallowing down more of the musky, tingling fluid as she felt something beginning to prod at the back of her throat, and as the panic rose she pounded her fists against the dragon's flank. The tail relaxed suddenly, and she toppled backward with a gasp.
The heat in her gut had expanded still, and was beginning to take on an unpleasant quality that made her feel sluggish and queasy. Hauling herself up, she looked back at the opalescent dragon on the bed, her eyes going wide with shock as she saw the ebon length of flesh still slipping from the slit in the dragon's scales, thickening, drooling more of that milky fluid onto the bed. She didn't have to be familiar with dragon anatomy to realize what she was looking at. Horrified, she turned to the dragon's face, shocked to see a leering grin aimed at her. "You ... you ... you aren't female ..."
The dragon gestured like a shrug, continuing to smile in an unsettling fashion. "I may have lied about that particular fact."
"You ... aren't Marin," Jaena said, quivering as the realization of what was happening was beginning to unfold in her head, the young initiate pulling herself up to her feet and staring with wide-eyed fear. "I may have lied about that, as well," the dragon replied, leering, shifting its position on the bed so the rigid flesh of its now obvious malehood was jabbing lewdly into the air, the black flesh a stark contrast to the opalescent color of its scales.
Jaena continued to step backward, away from the dragon, clutching her stomach that was beginning to reel, both in revulsion of what was happening as well as the unnatural heat that was churning within. Aspirations of claiming the Controlling Staff, of advancing her way to high priestess were quickly fading as she realized what she had done. She had been tricked, tricked in the most cruel of fashions. "You aren't Marin," she repeated, shaking her head. She had been fooled into letting this beast out of the dungeon, had been fooled into killing Darius with her own hand, tricked into getting her mentor killed. Tricked into unleashing hell upon the temple. "You are a dragon."
"I suppose I've done a lot of lying, tonight," the creature said in a cruel voice, flashing a toothy grin in her direction, obviously reveling in its victory from where it lay on her bed.
The death of the guards. The death of her consort. The death of her mentor. It had all been in vain, it had all been a lie, and it had all been her fault. Jaena had set out believing she might become the salvation of the temple, but was coming to the realization that she may well have doomed it. Screaming, she turned to flee her apartment, the dragon's laughter chasing after her as she ran into the hall beyond.
Without stopping to think, she fled around the corner and nearly crashed directly into someone who was walking in her direction. At the last second, she realized it was Kellen, the High Priestess, bearing the Controlling Staff in her hand. With a pitiful wail, Jaena fell to her knees before the woman and clutched at the hem of her dress. "Kellen, Kellen! By the gods, Kellen!"
The priestess shot her a withering, confused look. "What is the meaning of this?"
"It's my fault ... I was tricked, it tricked me! It's in my room ... it killed Lynne, gods, Lynne! It tricked me into letting it escape, I killed Darius ... oh, poor Darius! Please! Kellen, before it is too late!"
"Get a hold of yourself! What are you screaming about?"
"A dragon," Jaena breathed out with some effort, trying to wipe the tears from her face. "I'm sorry, it told me ... it lied, it tricked me, and now it's loose ..."
The high priestess frowned again. "What are you trying to tell me? You've let a dragon loose?" She nodded, peering over her shoulder, half expecting to see the beast come bounding out of the room and charging her with jaws bared. "It tricked me, I'm sorry ... in my room, it killed Lynne! Please, hurry, before it's too late ... you can stop it ..."
Kellen remained calm, setting her jaw as she attempted to calm the initiate. "Sister, calm yourself! Speak clearly, and quickly. Are you telling me that there is a dragon, in your room, right now?"
"Yes," she said, choking back her tears and trying to compose herself. "Yes, that's what I'm telling you."
The anger in the high priestesses' eyes were evident; doubtlessly if they survived, she would have to endure the woman's wrath later, but it would be a welcome alternative to death at the dragons' jaws. "Come with me," Kellen breathed through clenched teeth, marching toward the room. The door had closed, and Jaena feared that the dragon now waited just on the other side, prepared to ambush them, but Kellen was undeterred. Raising her staff, the priestess flicked an invisible command into the air, all but tearing the doors off their hinges as they opened with a terrible crash.
The dragon, much to her amazement, had not moved from its perch on her bed. It merely watched in unconcerned fashion as Kellen strode into the room, anger flashing across her features again before she stopped, clenching the staff in her hand before she spoke. "You! What is the meaning of this? What is going on here?"
Jaena expected the two to become locked in the same kind of invisible, silent battle that Lynne had waged before she was killed, but the dragon still seemed nonplussed by what was happening. "Call it a minor change of plans," the dragon responded.
"Reckless," Kellen shot back, the irritation still evident in her voice, yet she still did not strike out; she held her ground there at the door, the staff at ready.
"Perhaps, but it worked," the dragon crooned with no concern, rolling slightly in the bed and stretching lazily. "If it's all the same to you, I really had no interest in spending any time at all looking like that."
Jaena realized, with no small amount of confusion, that the dragon was referring to her. She was even more confused when Kellen responded only with an exasperated sigh. "Ah, but you always were a vain fool, Vivitus."
The dragon responded with a mirthful chuckle. "Besides. This way I got her to do half of the dirty work for me. Imagine, convincing the dolt to kill her own meddling consort for me?"
"As lazy as you are vain," Kellen responded, shaking her head. Turning on her heel, the High Priestess walked right past a stunned and confused Jaena, shooting her a withering look once more before turning back to the dragon on the bed. "Finish your business with this one here, Vivitus, but do not delay. I am quite tired of this form as well, and your brethren are eager to resume their proper forms. We await you at the summit of the temple." With a flick of the staff, the doors shut behind her with a dull sort of finality.
Jaena stared back at the doors in confusion and horror, and only stopped when she heard the dragon's voice dangerously close to her head. "I wasn't lying about her," the beast said, mere inches away; the initiate reacted by jumping back with a startled yell. "Nor was I lying about the rest of your sisters. They are all chained in that filthy dungeon of yours, heavy with the eggs of my brethren. Soon you will join them."
Swallowing down the fear that was clawing at her throat, Jaena just stood there and watched the dragon, wide eyed, as the creature circled her slowly, deliberately, like an animal stalking its prey. "Don't act so surprised. Do you not feel it? Your womb has been made ready for my seed, made ready to carry me the progeny that I have been for so long denied."
Instinctively Jaena reached for her midsection, hugging herself around her belly. The heat that she felt within her, the surge of power, was that really some change in her womb? The dragon did not leave the question unanswered for long, however, as it swiped forward with a claw and snagged her robes. She screamed as the clothing was torn away from her in shreds, leaving her naked and shivering. Looking down, she was horrified to see that the space between her legs was now occupied by a weird patch of emerald green scales, the cleft among them already moistened from her excitement only moments before.
Her world was rapidly crumbling. In the space of a night she had gone from expecting to become the last priestess of her generation, to the last hope for the temple, to little more than an incubator for the beasts that had somehow overcome their masters. As the dragon circled her again, she caught sight of the creature's erection dangling between its legs, and she knew she would have no power to stop it. The beast would ravage her, plant its seed in her womb, claim her for its own. She would be cast down into the dungeon and probably spend the rest of her life there. There was nothing she could do to change her fate now.
Nothing more than speak. She had to think of something, some alternative, some hope. In a desperate bid to stall, to give herself more time to think, she opened her mouth and spoke, her voice quivering. "What ... if you aren't Marin ... what has become of her?"
The dragon snorted derisively. "Marin? She was slain when her student was taken, just as your mentor was slain when you were taken. Will be taken. They were of no use to us; they had nothing to offer us and were only in the way."
"But we do," she said, trying to keep the conversation going. "We do have something to offer you." "You offer us nothing," the dragon said, leaning in and hissing suddenly, sending chills down her spine. "You are of use to us yet, but you offer us nothing. We _take_what we want from you at our own pleasure, now."
A thought was beginning to form in her head, but she had to let it mature, had to stall a moment longer, had to consider her options. Shaking nervously, she managed to hold her ground. "What if ... what if I did? What if I did have something to offer to you?"
Again the dragon snorted, slapping at the ground with his tail. "There is nothing that you have that I cannot take from you."
"There is ... there is one thing ..."
"Nonsense," the dragon growled, stamping at the ground and leaning in close to hiss at her lowly, once again. Jaena almost cried out in fear, but managed to hold her ground a moment longer. She realized then that there was no way for her to escape her immediate fate. The dragon wanted her womb, would have her womb, and she had no way of swaying him from that course. Yet if she was going to be made one of them, made to bear him a child, perhaps there was hope for her yet. "I could give you my cooperation. I could give myself to you willingly."
"I do not require your cooperation for this," the dragon hissed, and as if to make his point, lashed out with his tail and knocked her over onto her knees. In a flash the creature was over her, pressing against her, the heat of his loins evident against her back.
With a yelp, Jaena steeled herself. She would have to act fast, before the dragon lost himself to his needs. "Vivitus," she said, remembering the name that Kellen - or whatever dragon had taken Kellen's form - had used. "I am powerless against you here, but this is not what I mean! You can have my cooperation ... my help ... my willingness, after!"
It seemed to have worked, at least for the moment, as the drake stopped to hiss. "What cooperation could I possibly want from you?"
She also remembered that Kellen had called him vain. Perhaps his vanity went beyond caring about his appearance, and she staked herself on that hope. "Look. There's something different about you, Vivitus. The others all went along with the same old plan, but you? No, you were too clever for that. The others had to rely on ... well, trickery by force of some kind, perhaps, but you? Yours was the only plan that let you wander free from the dungeon in your own natural form.
"Go on."
The dragon was taking the bait, but Jaena had to keep from simling just yet. "A dragon of your intellect shouldn't be following plans and taking orders. What happens after tonight? You cast me in the dungeon, you get your egg, but then what? Forced to take orders from others, follow along with plans that lack imagination, that lack spirit." The plan was still forming in her head, and she was having to think it up as she went, slathering on the platitudes to appeal to the drake's vanity. "You are too clever for that. You should be the one in charge, Vivitus."
At that, the dragon snorted again. "Well yes, of course, I am the only one clever enough to get what I want like this, but so? You have no power over such things."
"Perhaps I do. Lay claim to me tonight, Vivitus, and I will bear you the child you deserve. Send me to the dungeon to live with my sisters, but leave me unfettered. I will tell my sisters that I have devised a plan for our escape, and that they must do as I say. When the eggs they carry are laid and hatched, I will take the hatchlings under my tutelage. I will teach them that they are all to swear fealty to you, Vivitus, and that the others are merely impostors who must be overthrown."
There was a long moment of silence, save for heavy breathing, before the opalescent dragon spoke again. "Go on."
"From there it is simple. When the time comes, when the hatchlings are grown, we will simply elect a day that they shall band together and there will be an uprising. They will all swear fealty to you. I will have the sisters swear fealty to you as well." The pieces of the plan were coming together, but she would have to put the final touches on it to make it work just right. "As would I ... all swear loyalty to you, Lord Vivitus."
"Lord Vivitus," the drake repeated, slowly, as if he were savoring the sound of the title. It was a lie, of course. Jaena just about had the beast in her clutches, so to speak, but what she had told him was a lie. Unfettered, she would take the hatchlings under her wing, but instead of swearing loyalty to Vivitus, they would swear fealty to her. When the time came, the uprising would be swift and effective. The beasts would be overthrown, and in their place, she would rule. Her dreams of being a priestess of the temple - perhaps even High Priestess - were now gone, forever. Yet if she was doomed to spend the rest of her days as a dragon, at least she would spend them as the queen of dragons.
All she needed was the final touch to convince him. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she leaned forward and raised her hips high in the air, exposing herself. "Yes! Claim me, my lord, give me the child that will one day be the heir to your rule!"
The dragon seemed to require no further encouragement than that, snarling out a sound that made her blood chill just before the creature forced himself upon her. With no time to prepare, no time to even steel herself for the invasion, Jaena hadn't even drawn enough breath to let out a scream when a sensation like fire tore into her loins, her whole body lurching forward with the impact of scales against her bared hips. Though she may have been given a dragon's womb, she had not been prepared for something quite that big. In that painful, breathless moment, her jaw gaping in an unvoiced scream, Jaena felt like her entire body was going to be torn into two at the ferocity of the dragon's initial thrust, deep within her.
Even then, the beast did not give her a chance to recover. She was still so tight around the drake's flesh that when his hips pulled back, she was nearly pulled along with, her own hips being dragged backward slightly before being crashed into anew. Once more her whole frame felt like it had been pummeled, driving her forward with the force of the impact, stealing the little breath away that she had been trying to suck down. Once more she felt like the flesh spearing her was too much, like she was going to simply split in half around it. In the back of her mind, a terrified voice wondered if she hadn't made a horrible mistake; wondered if the dragon meant to kill her right here and now in its crazed lust.
She did not, however, split in half, and the dragon was not trying to kill her. While the beast did nothing to soften its assault, her strained body was slowly adjusting itself to the pace of the rut. The searing heat in her loins slowly gave way to a dull sort of ache with each spirited thrust, the crashing of his body against hers becoming predictable enough for her to catch her breath, enough that she could once again begin to think. The heavy, scaled form was pressing firm against her, and part of her brain still wanted to panic, but she realized that this was the price she would have to pay. It likely would not have been much different in the Chamber of Sharing, when she would receive her priesthood, but the reward for this had the potential to be so much greater.
Queen of dragons. The thought echoed in her mind again, and the pain was beginning to recede. Never before had she experienced this, no man was equal to the dragon in any way, shape or form, and the thought of that kind of raw power between her legs was beginning to become intoxicating. Little ripples of pleasure began to flutter up from her loins, her body's natural reaction to the stimulation making her slicker so the thrusts became smoother, easier, less brutal. Perhaps she could enjoy the physical pleasure of the encounter as much as the result of it, after all.
It was only then she began to notice another sensation within her. Vague at first, almost ephemeral, it was an odd kind of tightness that she felt deep in the core of her being, like all of her bones were being slowly squeezed, constricted - as if her body had become too small to contain them. The feral crash of the dragon's body against her hips briefly brought that sensation back to the fore, the fire between her legs being stoked ever hotter as the beast used her, abused her. The weird joining of pleasure and pain and the promise of what was to come was making her feel almost giddy.
The next wild thrust made her again question all of that. The way the dragon crashed against her made her bones ache inside of her, made them again feel somehow crowded, constricted. The beast was heedless of such aches, and even if he was, would not likely have spared her that little misery. Instead it continued to thrash its hindquarters, slamming into her with enough fury that the dull ache was beginning to become constant, was vying with the fire in her loins for her attention. Yet another sharp jab downward was enough to make her body nearly snap - Jaena could swear that she hear an ugly cracking sound coming from _inside_of her.
One more thrust was all it took. Her own hips gave way as an audible snapping sound echoed in the room, and she screamed out in agony as the sensation spread like lightning through her bones. Something had definitely shifted, and she was unable to hold herself up on her knees any longer. She was forced to flex her legs, hold her drooping backside up with them or risk collapsing onto the ground, but even as she fought to keep herself from crumbling the dragon continued in his lusty coupling. The next violent thrust reverberated up through her spine, rattling her ribs and nearly forcing her headlong into the ground. She only held herself up with a concerted effort, flexing her arms, but the effort made them strain; she was certain that they, too, were only moments away from snapping themselves.
When it came, it was nothing like she expected. The ache translated down her arms, whipping them with enough force to cause her arms to straighten out, threatening to bend the wrong way at the elbows. Like some kind of unnatural whip it snapped down to her wrists, making another angry cracking sound, accompanied by a fresh wave of pain. Instead of breaking, however, her wrists seemed to thicken, a little pulse running down to her fingertips that caused them to contort in a grotesque manner. Before her very eyes they seemed to pop out into the shape of what looked unmistakeably like claws.
She didn't really have time to look. The force of another impact was driving her forward, a wave of motion racing along her spine straight to her neck. The young initiate's vision went wild as she could feel the snapping sensation in her neck, her entire head being whipped up and down, as if the force were threatening to shake her head right off her shoulders. Another thrust delivered the same kind of harsh force to her neck, and she wondered what was keeping it intact, what was keeping it from snapping in two and snuffing her life out right then and there.
Yet still she held. When the whiplash stopped assaulting her neck, giving her rattled vision a moment to recover, she tried to get a look at what was happening. Vaguely, Jaena was aware that her perspective was all wrong - she seemed to be seeing too far ahead, as if her eyes had become too far removed from where they ought to be. Where moments before she had seen her own breasts swaying heavily at the assault, her body simply swelled out into a thicker shape. In place of her hands were heavily taloned claws. In place of her milky flesh were a dizzying array of emerald green scales.
Her mind was still reeling from the way her head had been thrashed about, a dizzying sensation still clutching at her. Sluggishly she looked up and across the room, where she could get a look at herself in the mirror. There was the opalescent dragon, a frightfully feral snarl on its lips as it railed into its conquest with abandon. Below him was not the frail form of a priestess initiate, but an emerald green dragon, hips still shifting lightly with each thrust, a thick, long tail seeming to thrash out like a whip, longer and longer with each impact. It was her. She was a dragon. The Queen of Dragons.
She fixated on the sight, staring wide-eyed as the green dragon stared right back. The ache of her bones was beginning to abate, but the fire in her loins was as strong as it ever had been. Seeing herself mounted by such a powerful and fearful beast was helping to stoke that flame anew. She felt her jaw go slack, let a low growl of a groan echo out from her chest.
Then her vision was skewed once again just as a series of hot pinpricks made themselves known at the back of her neck. Jaena felt the jaws of that dragon clamping down on her neck, forcing her head down, snatching her up in a feral mating embrace. Instinct kicked in and she leaned her body low to the ground, save for her hips which remained thrust upward into the air, letting the fiery lance of the dragon's erection spear her to the core. A frightful roaring sound made her gasp, and she knew that the male was finally at his peak. She imagined she could feel it, the heated gift from the dragon invading her new womb. Soon, she knew, her belly would swell with his egg.
It didn't last. As soon as the dragon was done he dismounted, shoving her a little roughly to the ground below. Her hips ached, her loins groaned for more, but it seemed that she would be deprived of the sexual pleasure that she was only just beginning to crave. No matter, she thought to herself. She could always slake those desires later. Heavily she lifted her head, turning to look at her new consort with a smile. To her surprise, the dragon was already making his way toward the doors, with some haste. "Lord Vivitus," she called out, with a quite gasp. "Where are you going?"
"To finish what we started," the drake responded with a hint of irritation, not so much as turning around.
Jaena didn't know how to respond. She didn't really understand these beasts, not beyond what she had been taught in preparation for her ceremony, and it certainly did not cover the post-coital mood swings of the beasts. Perhaps, she thought to herself, they really were simple and stupid beasts, without a capacity for any real feeling beyond the physical. "But, what of our plan? Arent you going to send me back to the dungeon?"
"Our plan?" The dragon stopped, turning to look at her with a slightly pained expression.
"Yes, to overthrow ..."
The dragon interrupted with a heavy sigh. "Ahh, my sweet. It is just as the others said, looking upon you is so ... difficult. Forgive me," he said with a low voice.
A shiver ran down Jaena's spine as she got the distinct impression the dragon as not addressing her at all. "Forgive you ... for what?"
"I do not require your_forgiveness," the drake retorted with an angry sneer, then lifted his head to let loose a loud and rather mirthless laugh. "Send you to the dungeon? Oh, I do not think so. Your sisters will remain in the dungeon, _alone. They will not so much as speak with one another, see one another, so that they have all the time they need to contemplate the crimes that they and their kind have heaped upon us for so many generations. They will provide my bretheren with the progeny that we have been denied for so very long. Then maybe - just maybe - the day will come when they might ask for forgiveness. They may one day actually deserve it. When that day comes, they might be released to live out the rest of their days among our kind.
"But you." The dragon's tone became suddenly very very dangerous, and Jaena found herself backing away, scurrying toward the corner as if she might find some solace there. The drake, perhaps capitalizing on her fear, took a few provocative steps forward so he could tower over her, leering. "You will remain here in this room. It may be no dank, dark dungeon but you will learn to wish that it was. You will not even have the cries of your sisters to accompany you in your loneliness. Like them, you will remain here to be used as I will. Like them, you will provide me with the children that I have been denied for so very long. Unlike them, however, you will remain here for the rest of your life. When I no longer have need of your womb you will be left here to live out your days in silence and solitude to consider the magnitude of your crimes until the end of your life."
The pronouncement struck her like a pile of bricks, with enough force to send her physically reeling backwards. "Lord ... my lord, I don't understand ... we had a plan, I was going to _help_you!" She cried out from where she cowered in confusion and fear. She had promised him the power that he desired. What had gone wrong?
"Help me? Fool of fools! Do not think that I could not smell the raw desire on you the moment that I laid eyes upon you. Your sisters? They are fools of a simpler order, earnestly believing that they were entitled to some measure of power in order to fulfill some twisted destiny. But you?" The dragon leaned a little closer, sneering angrily. "You hunger for power for your own sake. You desire it for your own advancement. Long have you lusted for the Controlling Staff. Did you not think that I could smell that on you from a mile away?
"It's what made you so ... easy to manipulate," the dragon continued with a sardonic chuckle. "'Oh, Jaena, you are the last! Save us!'"
The reality of what was happening was crashing down around her. Desperately she glanced around for some hope, some means of escape, but the dragon was between her and the exit. The Daughter Staff was cast away to the side where she could hope not reach it. At best she might cast herself at the drake, try to overpower it physically, but what magic might it hold? What might it be able to do to her? All she had left was the power of her voice. "Don't be foolish, Vivitus. There's no way you can hope to overthrow your leader and take control without me ..."
The drake cut her off with a hiss. "I have no interest in such power."
Jaena felt like her tongue had been cut off. Her entire plan had rested upon the drake's apparent vanity, and she knew he had to hunger for power. Had she really misread the creature so poorly? In a fit of desperation, she chose the last angle of attack she could think of. "Do this to me and I will see to it that your egg never sees the light of day."
"So much as scratch my egg, and I will see to it that you wish for death," the creature responded with all the hatred and vitriol that it could muster. It was effective, and Jaena was left speechless, cowering in her corner. With a snarl, the dragon turned and made his way back toward the door.
"Please," was all she could muster, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Please?" The dragon paused at the door, turning back to look at her, eyes still filled with unmitigated hatred. "Please? You care for nothing but yourself. I convinced you to free me from the dungeon because you lusted for the accolades you thought you would receive. I convinced you to slay your lover and help me kill your mentor, all in the hope of some taste of power and glory. You would sell the souls of your sisters and all of those you care about merely for the chance to sit on some throne.
"We fell for it once, generations ago. Your ancestors were the same; they enslaved my brethren and slaughtered my kin in the pursuit of power. They cared about nothing but themselves. We were blinded to it at the time, we were fooled. It will not happen again." The dragon spit at the ground before him, turning away finally and making for the door, calling out behind him. "I will not allow you and your poison to gain control again. May you truly be the last of your kind, Jaena."
The door shut behind the dragon with a kind of deadly finality. Jaena did not have to try it to know that it would be locked, barred, or somehow warded to prevent her escape. She knew, instinctively, that she would never again set foot beyond the confines of her room, the place that had once been her sanctuary, her home, where she tended all of her dreams of greatness and glory. Now it would do nothing but harbor her pain and misery till she drew her last breath. As the tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision into a wild miasma of color and light, she fought to come up with some plan, some scheme, some way of overcoming this obstacle. For the first time in her life, there was no scheme that came to her. For the first time in her life she felt her last hope evaporate, leaving nothing behind but despair.