FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Assurance

Written By: Skabaard

Wherever she went, she was followed by the continuous rasp of scales on the ground beneath her, but she had long ago grown used to it. Where her waist met the flare of her broad hips, her body smoothly transitioned to that of a massive serpent, forgoing legs in favor of the immense girth of powerful, ophidian coils that, were she to stretch herself out, would reach nearly thirty feet behind her. Early into the life she had chosen for herself, people had looked on her with unhidden terror in their eyes. She was unique, but was also much more than that. She was bestial, a half-feral monstrosity that glared at the world through slitted, reptilian eyes of burnished gold. With the tensing of layer after layer of alien muscles, she dragged herself forward with slow, undulating sways of her hips.

The largest of men and women had to crane their heads to look up at her when she was at her most comfortable height, more than twelve feet. She could sink down into her snakelike lower half in an equivalent of sitting, but she rarely felt the need, which left her head, shoulders, and most of a torso greater than even most horse morphs, and everyone but her closest friends had feared her inhuman and ultimately savage appearance for years. Even now, if away from her home, she got those same shocked, horrified stares. In Southcliff, though, she had a reputation. People looked up at her with a sort of grudging respect, some even with admiration, she suspected, and she relished it when she could. It came so rarely.

As she slithered through the streets of the outer city, near an intersection of a market district and a tangle of closely-packed residences, people gave her a wide berth, and rightly so, she supposed. More than her demi-humanoid shape and stature made her stand out. She needed nothing to hide her lower body as she was, and the casual shirt of dark fabric she had buttoned down her front did little to hide what added to her intimidating presence. Beneath a coat of scales that bore the coloration of a sandy, desert viper, a physique of nearly impossible proportions flexed as she moved. She couldn't help it. Her frame was broad, her chest deep and her physique as hard as steel under her scaly hide. Slabs of muscle covered her enormous frame, each chiseled into impossible definition like they had been sculpted into place by the hands of a master craftsman. Titanic arms strained at the sleeves of her shirt, arms that had proven their colossal strength time and time again.

Her musculature rippled almost of its own accord. Her bricklike wall of her abdomen tensed as she breathed and kept her balanced over her tail. Her appearance was that of a warrior, savage and fierce, hulking and unstoppable, and she had needed to do little to cultivate that reputation. Her strong fingers were capped in wicked, black claws that tapered to threatening points, and though she preferred to use a weapon when she could, she had never shied from getting her hands dirty. Her dark, charcoal-colored tongue flicked between her thin, reptilian lips, tasting the air in a subconscious attempt to keep her aware of her surroundings.

Her head blended the features of the serpent that she was with the human she had once been, with expressive eyes set into a snakelike snout. In place of hair, a pair of thick, sturdy horns marked her brows, matching those of the snake off of which she had been "designed." She'd seen illustrations in books, but never actually been to the desert to see one of the snakes for herself. It was still on the list of things she desired to do. Unlike the snake, however, her head was also crowned with a crest of short, sharp spikes that rode along the center of her skull down to the beginning of her spine, giving her a jagged, black mohawk that, not that she would ever let anyone know, she thought looked rather stylish on her otherwise unadorned head.

The scales of her underbelly, from her neck all the way down her front to the end of her serpentine tail, were a paler color than the tan of her back and sides, a wan, washed-out yellow that she contrasted with the black of her shirt. In defiance against, or perhaps in compliance with, her bulky, impossible stature, her feminine assets were likewise tremendous. Her huge, head-sized breasts sat effortlessly high on her chest, supported by the toughness of her scales, and her hips more than matched the breadth of her powerfully-muscled shoulders despite how they slowly tapered away into her ophidian coils. Each breath made her bust rise and fall in her shirt, making the shameless, surprisingly supple globes hog even more of her vision, but like the sound that accompanied her everywhere, she ignored it. She was as she was, and there was little that she would allow to change that after she had fought so hard.

Pulling herself out of her introspection, she settled her features into as pleasant a smile as she could managed, trying only not to show too many of the dozens and dozens of needlelike teeth that filled her snout, let alone the pair of fangs, each inches long, that rested against her palate. She approached a squat but lengthy building, gliding sinuously up to its door through a little, grassy courtyard and giving the frame above it a gentle knock. She couldn't hope to get her bulk through the portal without breaking something. While waiting, she pulled her tail out of the alley she had turned down, getting it out of people's way and piling it up around her.

Rather than the tired, matronly woman she expected to greet her, the door was opened inward by a child, a little girl who, before the magnitude of her body, appeared even smaller. The little fox kit was garbed in a simple, but cute, grey dress, and she squealed at the sight of the naga looming in the doorway. "Monster!" she cried, leaping backward and sprinting back into the house, screaming the word over and over.

She just grinned and chuckled, sliding back away from the door. There was a commotion from within, and with little warning, a veritable tide of little, fluffy children of every description poured from the building to crash against the scales of her ophidian belly in a wave of excited giggling and screaming and hugs. "Ack!" she groaned, her deep voice rumbling in her chest, "The mighty champions have defeated me again! I'm helpless against your bravery!" The kids only laughed and hugged her harder. "Hello, children. I've missed you. Is Korra busy at the moment?"

The oldest and bravest of the group, the diminutive vixen that had answered the door, spoke up, shouting unnecessarily up at her through the intervening feet. "She's feeding Eryk right now. I'll go get her! Stay here. Don't go anywhere."

As if she could. She was well and truly trapped by the half-dozen kids already busied with using her massed coils as a playground, so she nestled into herself, bending low to greet them by name, remarking on how big they were getting, and how proud she was. They came in all shapes and species, a fox, a cat, two dogs, and even a young, shy foal who already towered over her playmates. She straightened, however, when a haggard rabbit morph accompanied the little vixen out of the house, still cradling an infant against her chest.

Korra, the children's caretaker, dredged up the energy to give her a smile. "Cera... It's always a pleasure. The kids love you, you know. They complain when you're late."

The naga grinned in return. "Sorry. I wish I could come more often, but... you know." She fished a small, at least in her massive hand, pouch from a pocket of her shirt and passed it to the rabbitlike woman. "Here. For the children."

The grey-furred rabbit winced at the heft the pouch carried with it. "It's... heavier than usual. I... I wish I could... Thank you, Cera. We all appreciate it. Th-thank you."

She mussed the little fox's hair as the furry child leapt against her, and she gave Korra another happy smile. "It's the least I could do. Why don't you take a moment to breathe? The little one looks almost as tired as you. Let him take a nap and do the same after you feed yourself. I can watch over these for a bit."

The exhausted woman acted like that was her true gift, and nodded, hiding her teary eyes before retreating back inside to try to relax. Cera had never had any children of her own, but was certainly familiar with motherhood, as well as all the stresses that lofty position came with. Running an orphanage was no small task, and she took it as her duty to help with such a noble calling in whatever way she could manage. Both the children and their caretaker deserved that much, so she settled into herself and kept a watchful eye on the kids that seemed perfectly content to swarm around her to their own amusement. She missed that innocence.

She let them cavort as they would, provided they weren't going to hurt themselves, and she even allowed herself to be drawn into a game of "vanquish the monster", which was really just her writhing on the ground while they piled atop her and tickled her mercilessly, an attack which she gladly returned in equal measure. They laughed and giggled, and she gathered them around and told them stories of her tamer adventures, of heroes and bravery and happy endings with lots of sweets. She had seen more than a few. The dogs, which had to have been brothers, bickered for a spell, using a length of her serpentine body as an arena as they wrestled playfully with one another, sometimes tumbling off to the grass only to pick themselves up, climb back onto her, and continue their duel.

Shyly, the fox patted her scales and begged her to come down to her level after a time, only to present her with a gift from her friends and herself. It was made from lengths of ragged, twisted copper wire, little more than scrap, but they were twined intricately around each other in a rather pretty fashion. It was lovely, and she said as much, assuring the little girl that the hands that had crafted it were destined for greatness. The vixen took no direct claim over it, since it was from them all, but the way she blushed furiously told the naga who had played the greatest role in its construction, and she thanked them all profusely to deflect embarrassment from the budding craftswoman.

She had managed to get the cat purring softly against her by running her claws ever so gently along the feline's scalp and against the base of her little ears, and she was beginning to do the same for the young equine, not expecting the same result, when a dark shadow swept ominously over them, blocking the sun for a split second. The two canines stared at the ground in confusion, wondering what had happened, and Cera likewise straightened and directed her gaze upward at the nearly cloudless sky just in time to catch the source of the strange phenomenon.

Broad, leathery-skinned wings swept through the air with steady flapping sounds as the dragon descended on them, their icy blue membranes tinting the light that passed through them the color of the winter sky. It was a familiar enough sight for her, but the children all stopped what they were doing in favor of huddling close to her, worried about the unsettled sight. She calmed them with a few soft words and pets on the heads while their guest dropped heavily to the ground, her entire body flexing with the impact of her landing.

The dragoness's polished, silver scales reflected the sunlight from her magnificent form, scattering spots of light around her. Her tapered, ivory horns arced gracefully back over her head, coupled with a thicket of similarly-colored, orderly spikes in place of hair. Those, coupled with her angular snout filled with twin rows of wickedly pointed teeth, gave her a savage, intimidating visage that was softened only by smooth, womanly beauty. Eyes of brilliant, faceted emerald looked Cera up and down as the dragon approached, and they exchanged a smile as the kids took shelter behind a loop of her snakelike body.

She shifted, pushing them forward with her tail as she explained, "No need to worry, children. This is my friend, Clara. Clara, these are my friends. They taste terrible, so don't even think of eating them."

The dragoness's voice was deep, rich and melodious as she replied. "Don't worry. I only eat cowards and kids who don't mind their elders. This lot looks far too brave and well-behaved to be appetizing."

The children looked unconvinced. Despite being the home to more than one of the legendary creatures, dragons, especially ones that very nearly rivaled Cera in height, were a rare, rare sight in the outer city. She was just glad that Clara had decided to wear something to preserve the modesty she usually had no care to keep. Snug, black trousers and a well-cut tunic of deep, oceanic blue hid the dragoness's opulent, curvaceous figure for the day, with special holes in the back to allow the movement of the expansive wings she kept folded comfortably behind her. As she stepped carefully forward and gave the naga a hug, she sunk into a low crouch to give more proper introductions, exchanging names with the kids.

When she stood back up, the children looked a bit more at ease. In the decades that Cera had known the dragoness, Clara had grown taller and taller, and now less than a foot separated their heights. Perhaps in a similar span of time, she would have to actually look up to the lovely creature. For now, though, she sank down a little, matching Clara's height to look the dragon in the eye. "I thought I saw you way down here." said the scaly beauty.

She shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck with an idle hand. "I guess even from that high up I'm easy to pick out."

"True enough..." said Clara with a mirthful twinkle in her eyes. "Is this where you've been sneaking off to when you think no one's watching?"

"N-no..." she muttered defensively, "I don't _sneak_anywhere, even when I'd want to. I just... I just don't want there to be some huge fanfare everywhere I go sometimes. These kids have a stressful enough life without having to deal with all that... noise."

The dragoness grinned down at the children as they went back to cautiously horsing around with one another. The horse was winning, naturally. "They seem fairly relaxed to me."

"Most of them weren't old enough to remember what... what made the come here." she explained, "Korra's the only mother any of these kids have. They deserve to grow up with what innocence they have left."

Clara's smile didn't falter. Rather, it grew warm and doting. "I would agree. Are these rescues, then?"

"Yes." she answered quietly, not wanting the kids to know they were being spoken of. "Some of them still have nightmares, but they don't know why. It's a scary thing, having your world turned upside down like that. I suppose I know that better than most."

"Also true, but if they grow to be half as resolute as their role-model, then the world should take care not to cross them." The dragoness slid a hand over her shoulder and gave her a firm, comforting squeeze, and she felt the skin beneath her scales flush as she smiled sheepishly back. Before she could say anything in reply, Clara was distracted by the little vixen who stepped boldly forward only to run reverent fingers along the scales of her shin, seemingly just to see what they felt like. With a motherly purr, she sank down into her haunches to address the young fox. "A courageous move, little one, to poke a dragon... without a stick, even. You must be the bravest one of them all."

"No." said the little girl, matter-of-factly, "I'm not brave. I'm just not afraid."

Clara chuckled at the distinction. "And why is that, little morsel?"

The fox struggled for words, flustered, and Cera took the opportunity to step in. "Because she knows a real monster!" The tiny vixen screamed and wriggled as she reached down to tickle her with merciless efficiency. Struggling valiantly, the kit managed to wiggle her way free and ran away from her snatching claws only to take cover behind a girthy coil that she seemed to forget was a part of her body, at least until her tail snaked around to poke her in the back, to more giggling wails. The other children came to their friend's defense, tackling the end of the naga's tail and prying it away, only to have themselves tickled as well.

Clara beamed at the sight and stood back up with a theatrical pout. "You are not scarier than me."

She just shrugged and smiled, keeping an eye on the kids as they did battle with the flicking tip of her tail. "Maybe not, but they don't have to know that. Sometimes... sometimes it's a comfort to know that no matter how scary the world gets, you've got friends who are scarier."

Humming thoughtfully, the dragoness surrendered the point and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "I suppose you're right. I've never thought about it like that before."

Cera chuckled. "That must be because you're used to being the scary one. Trust me, you and Daryn both make a lot of people feel... safe. You can hear it in their voices when you're just a speck in the sky between the clouds. If Daryn wasn't a wizard, they might even show their appreciation sometimes."

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Clara sighed heavily. "Yes... I will never understand people's distrust of magic, especially since it's such a large part of everyone's lives. Humans and their insecurities... They should fear dragons much more than the occasional sorcerer."

"Most people would, I think. It just around here, they've become a little desensitized by the sight of dragons on a nearly daily basis, even if it is just you or Daryn, or even Emma, flying around. It would take a lot more than that for people to get over their fear of magic. I was like that once, ignorant and untrustworthy. Everyone knows why you should be afraid of dragons. They're big and mean and easily annoyed..." Clara made a face at that. "But mages... They're just like everyone else, on the outside at least. They look just like anyone else, but they could melt your skin off as easily as breathing. They're powerful, and that power sets them apart, makes them beholden to few apart from themselves. If it weren't for the Ordo Arcanum, the world would be even less friendly to magic than it is now. Jealousy combined with ignorance and fear of the unknown are an unpleasant combination. At least now people simply glare at them, rather than forming mobs and burning them at the stake for idiotic things like causing droughts and disease."

The dragoness grinned. "That would be a sight to see though, wouldn't it? I'd pay my scales just to see an army try to storm the Sanctum. It's been some time since I've gotten to pull someone's arms off, and Daryn would be magnificent."

"Yeah..." said the naga as Clara stared off into nothing, a distant smile showing an unsettling number of razored teeth, "Let's just not and say we did, alright? I think Daryn would agree with me."

"Of course he would." grumbled the dragon. "Neither of you are ever any fun."

"Differing definitions of fun, I suppose. I much prefer a little peace and quiet to pitched battle."

"That's certainly never stopped you before."

She shrugged as she checked over her shoulder. The kids had found some roughly sword-shaped sticks and were using them to do battle with the last third of her body as it writhed around. "Of course not. It's easy enough to find a reason to fight. The tricky part is making sure it's the right reason."

Clara stared down past her, watching the children tackle her tail only to be rolled off and pushed around until the others could rescue them. "You seem to have found as good a reason as any."

A happy smile spread across her face. "I think so, yeah, among others. I just try to do what I can when I get the chance, even if it means coming by every now and again to let them know someone other than their caretaker cares about them."

"I'm sure she appreciates it. One child is too much to handle for some, let alone a whole herd."

"It definitely takes a special kind." She agreed as she turned and slithered back toward the kids, most of whom were beginning to show sign of fatigue from their heroic battle against their scaly menace. She scooped up the vixen and a yawning, bleary-eyed kitten to cradle them against her chest as she settled herself near the wall of their home. The younger ones were already half asleep, and the older followed her lead and flopped down next to her, leaning casually against her coils as she told them another story, one the dragoness listened to with rapt attention.

Half were snoring contentedly, and the rest were well on their way when the rabbit poked her head out of the door, looking much better than she had before her break. "I thought it sounded far too quiet out here." Korra crooned. "They get so excited when you visit, they just run themselves ragged. I can take it from here, Cera. Thank you."

"It's the least I could do." she murmured as she handed off the snoozing kitten and let the still-conscious vixen slid down her front and to the ground. "I just wish I could do more."

"Please," scolded the rabbit, "you already do more than anyone could ask. We all understand how busy you are, and we're glad you can take the time to visit at all."

Korra saw to the children, who all gave her limp, little hugs as they were bundled inside, some to their beds, she was sure. And then she waved them all a fond farewell before gliding back onto the road, Clara in tow. "You're adorable, you know." said the dragoness while taking a place at her side.

She scoffed. "Most people would disagree."

The dragoness nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, but then again, most people are fools who couldn't understand how wonderful you are anyway."

"I couldn't really blame them."

"Exactly." Clara said softly. "But don't worry; I can blame them enough for the both of us."

She laced her fingers together in front of her to keep them from fidgeting under the dragon's doting gaze. She was thankful that her blush couldn't be seen through the scales on her face. "Thank you, Clara. That... means a lot."

"It's the truth. Every word. There aren't many people I admire, Cera, but I'm glad to consider you one of them." The dragon threw an arm around her back and gave her far hip a firm squeeze. "In fact if Daryn weren't so stubborn, I would gladly share him with you."

If she'd had legs, she would have stumbled and fallen face-first into the ground, instead she merely spluttered with a shocked jolt, "Wh-what?" Clara was always a shameless tease, but she was rarely so blunt.

"What do you mean what? You're beautiful, and certainly robust enough to stay in one piece." The dragoness jabbed a playful elbow into her ribs, "And besides, he's definitely got a thing for strong women. He'd be like putty in your hands; you could do whatever you wanted to him." She barked a short, sharp laugh. "Hells, I'd sit the first round out just to watch. I'd bet that if you managed to-"

"Okay!" Cera cried out, startling the passers-by on the road around her, "Okay... I really appreciate the gesture, but I... I'll go ahead and pass. He wouldn't... I-I couldn't... It would be..."

She stammered senselessly, grasping for words to express her bewilderment, and Clara looked at her with a curious expression. "I'm sorry, Cera." the dragoness said calmly, silencing her babbling. "I was just trying to express... It confuses me how flustered it makes people to know that others find them appealing, especially when it's so easy to do so. Valorie usually just get mad at me when I tease her, I didn't think it would make you so uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

"N-no... It's alright. I just... I just wasn't... Gods' Blood."

The dragon considered her for a moment, sharp, emerald eyes narrow, and then a look of sudden, shocking comprehension washed over her. It made the naga even more uncomfortable, particularly when Clara darted in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "You..." the dragoness began warily, "You didn't get annoyed with me. You considered it. You... You would want to, wouldn't you?"

"No!" she said defensively and with a vigorous shake of her head in the face of Clara's predatory grin. "No, I... I don't... I couldn't."

"And why not? I'm sure that if you were to only tell him, he would understand. You're his friend. He cares about you. If you've a little tension that needs to be relieved, we could-"

She cut the dragoness off with a swipe of her arm. "I'm perfectly capable of seeing to the needs of my crotch on my own! There's no need to drag anyone else into it!"

She wriggled her way backward, but Clara advanced on her, leaning into her with a throaty purr. "You wouldn't need to drag anyone, Cera. All you'd need to do is extend an invitation."

"That's not going to happen! Please, just stop."

The dragon blinked at her in confusion, but withdrew. "I... I'm sorry. You just seemed interested, so I thought I'd-"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but no. I'll be fine by myself." She had to swallow past the nervous lump in her throat.

Clara frowned and looked up at her, piercing her eyes with an inscrutable expression. "Do you love him?"

It was as if the dragoness had slapped her. "What? No, I... I respect him, and you, and Val and all the others. I suppose I do love him, but... not like that. You two were practically made for each other." Clara's tail thrashed at the thought of it. "Val and Dawn are happy, and everyone else seems to be perfectly content in the arms of another. Sometimes I just want a little of that for myself, I guess."

"Then I suppose you're right." admitted the dragon as she squinted up at her. "He wouldn't feel comfortable giving you that sort of companionship. However, he is your friend, and we all do care for you. Why don't you talk to him? There are all sorts of people who would love to get to know you better. I'm sure of it. He could find you a mate. If you'd like, I could talk to-"

"No, it's fine." she said before Clara could lose herself in a bout of matchmaking. "Thank you, Clara, really. I appreciate it, you wanting to help, I really do, but I'm perfectly content as I am, aside from a few pangs of... jealousy, I guess."

Slowly, the dragoness lifted a hand to rest it on her thick, powerful shoulder. "You deserve better than simple contentment, Cera, but I understand. I'm sorry for being so pushy; I just want you to be happy."

She sighed and dragged herself forward, into the surprised dragon's arms. "I am happy, Clara." she whispered as she gave her draconic friend a deep, firm hug, effortlessly hauling Clara's more than half-ton frame from the ground. The dragoness looked surprised, but readily accepted her affection and returned her embrace. "I'm happy I have friends who care about me so much. I'm happy someone like me can even have friends. I'm happy I can help people, protect them. I'm happy, Clara, and I promise that if I ever need a hug, you'll be one of the first ones to know."

Clara let out a very undragonlike giggle at her plight. "Okay, you monster, but I'll hold you to your word. If I find out you went to Valorie first I'll show you something really scary. There's no way that little horse could hug as well as a dragon."

"Deal." said the naga while letting Clara drop back to the ground, "Now, There's a mountain of paperwork that needs my attention back at the Sanctum, if you'd like to-"

Occupied with the not insignificant weight of the dragon in her arms, she was caught utterly off guard by the heavy shove she received from behind as someone with enough heft behind them to affect her sprinted forcefully past her. She didn't quite fall, but she dropped Clara unceremoniously to the dirt as she flailed her tail to right herself. The dragoness half-dragged her down, and they both thrashed as she let out a sharp hiss and snapped her head around to get a look at whoever had been so possessed by their run to not notice either of the colossal women.

Clara growled and scrabbled back to her feet as she righted herself with a sinuous undulation of her coils and locked eyes with man who was recovering from his collision. He was a deer, tall, and with an impressive set of pronged antlers. He was with two others, both stocky equines, and he paled and cursed as his friends hauled him back to his cloven hooves and dragged him back into a sprint. The naga just watched their retreating silhouettes while the dragoness grumbled and brushed dust from her mussed clothing. "What the hells was that about?" she wondered aloud, not really expecting a tangible answer. Her tongue flicked from her mouth, tasting the air. Even over the myriad scents of the city, she could smell them; they reeked of a disgusting mixture of alcohol, fear, and a few things she couldn't immediately place.

She and Clara stood there for a mere moment before they received an explanation in the form of an entire squad of armed guardsmen that came running down the road after the trio. The one in the lead, a stout, grey-scaled reptilian, recognized one or both of them and motioned for his men to continue on as he slowed. "Did you see..." he panted, "Three men, two horses and a deer?"

Cera lifted an intrigued eyebrow and gestured further down the road. "Yes. Less than a minute ago. What's going on?"

She and Clara followed as he took back off after the other guards. "Investigating thefts at first." he told them, "It got a lot worse when we raided what we thought was their safehouse. They had a half-dozen people chained up in the basement, and it looked like we interrupted them during their "leisure" time. It wasn't pretty. We got most of them, but those three managed to sneak through a hidden door while we cleared the place."

Her hands clenched into tight fists at her side. "Clara. Give them an eye."

With no more words than a quick, "Hold on!" The dragoness bounded forward, looped her arms beneath the sergeant's, and leapt into the air, expansive wings quickly carrying them high above the clustered buildings. They would easily be able to see three people running through the streets, particularly with the Clara's inhumanly sharp eyes. She continued on in the tracks of the trailing guards, in her equivalent of a jog, slowing occasionally to slash her tongue through the air. She took the time to separate her abrupt quarry's scents from those of the surrounding multitude, and though it took some time, the rank, bitter tang of alcohol and blind terror stung at her sinuses enough for her to make it out.

The guards split up into pairs at an intersection, proceeding more slowly and taking the time to ask people what they had seen. It was a good idea. By the smell, her prey had likewise parted ways, fleeing in at least two differing directions. One pair of guardsmen stayed with her, warily eyeing the surrounding buildings as she followed her ophidian olfactory senses. They skirted the edge of a market district, heading further toward the city's outer wall and eventually winding up amid a maze of spacious warehouses. The scent of her unexpected prey was stronger there than elsewhere, and the guards split off from her to investigate one side of the road while she took the other.

While the sun was high in the sky, and the shadows useful for hiding were few and far between, she knew that finding two people amid all the crates and packed buildings would be a daunting task. Luckily, between the walls, the air was most often still and stagnant, useful for finding people who would have rather remained hidden. She pointed off to a structure in the distance, directing the guards there while she took a closer building. The smell of a trapped animal was stronger where she was, and the others would be less likely to be in danger where she directed.

Her tongue fitfully lashing the stale air, she crawled her way around the warehouses, glaring at the ground for a visible sign of her quarry's passage. She only had to search for a moment. Whoever it was had taken care to leave little tracks, but they couldn't have hidden the way they had brute-forced open one of the doors to a long, low building, breaking the lock and leaving it ever so slightly ajar. She cautiously pushed it open, peering in through the door, and eventually managed to cram the bulk of her body through the undersized portal.

The warehouse was windowless, and was lit only by the slice of light pouring in through the open door behind her. Stacks of crates were piled high along both sides of the tremendous room, each cushioned by sacks of what smelled like grain. They provided ample places to hide, and while she slithered cautiously into the warehouse, scanning her flanks, she kept a loop of her body thrown across the door to bar any convenient exit. "Listen..." she called into the darkness, "I don't know what happened, only what I was told. But I can promise you that running isn't going to do anyone any good, least of all yourselves." She followed her nose deeper into the murk, sweeping her head from side to side as she tasted the air for her quarry. "I know you're in here. I can smell you. You smell afraid, but you don't have to be. If you come out, I swear that you'll be treated fairly, and we'll all get to the bottom of this."

She didn't receive a prompt answer, and she anxiously clenched and relaxed her fists, wishing she had her armor more than a weapon. Her body was weapon enough for most situations. It mattered little though; she'd faced down much worse than a few terrified ruffians with less than the shirt she was currently wearing. "Just so you know," she continued, "I'm a pretty patient girl. I know you're in here, and I'm not leaving here without you. You may as well come out. Just save us all the time, because I'm not going to go rummaging around in the dark to find you. This place only has one door, and I'll hear you trying to make another. Just come out from your hidey hole. I can help you."

Still no answer... She swayed from side to side, raking her eyes over the shadowy contours around her. Normally, her inhuman eyes could see fairly well with little light, but the contrast from the brightness outside was making it difficult to pick out specific shapes. She could have closed the door, but then she would be in pitch blackness with them, and she preferred to see at least a little of what she was doing.

She heard something shift to her right, and she twisted her limber body to face the source of the soft, wooden creaking. It could have easily been the crates settling against the floorboards, but it could have been someone moving around in the protective shadow. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. I can say from experience that doing anything other than coming out and explaining yourselves doesn't really help, especially if it just annoys the person trying to help you."

She heard another noise, this time on her opposite side, and she hissed softly to herself. Suddenly, she was acutely away of just how noisy a dark, supposedly empty building was. Wood was constantly creaking and shifting against itself, and tiny, scratching noises, likely of vermin or the feral cats that hunted them, filled the murk, and it was difficult distinguish reality from imagined movements in the shadows. Her scales rasped over the floor as she writhed anxiously. She certainly didn't fear, but she knew better than to go poking her nose into a dark hole that she knew housed a cornered animal. "The guard will make their way over here eventually. It would be better if you explained yourself before they get here. They looked rather upset with you. In fact-"

With little warning, a shadowy figure burst from the boxes directly to her left. She reacted instantly, sliding away as he lunged into the light. It was one of the horses, shorter than was average, but he made up for it with a broad, powerful build that heaved as he levered one of the heavy crates from the ground and threw it at her. He then charged, clearly trying to sprint past her and out the form door, but he faltered when she simply caught the heavy projectile. He had to have been truly strong to be able to haul such a weight from the ground, but she was so much more so, and she hissed as she returned it with a forceful shove. He cried out as the cube of stout wood crashed into him and bore him to the ground.

Her mouth opened to tell him to stay where he lay dazed, but she hadn't the time to get it out before she was rudely interrupted by the equine's accomplice. She jerked to the side as the antlered buck leapt at her from the right, brandishing a blade that would have been threatening to anyone but her. She twisted sinuously away and defensively swung her arm down at him, trying to at least drive him back, to give her room to maneuver, but her slid under the unyielding limb and lunged savagely at her.

Her inhuman flexibility saved her from being skewered, but her scales alone proved to be insufficient a barrier to the deer's strength. Cera let out a hoarse, shocked cry as the blade bit into her side, leaving a line of bloody fire just beneath her ribcage. She roared, a sound of hot, pained fury, and slapped him away with a flailing limb, sending him flying back to join his friend after a short skid. She cradled her side, pulling away a hand that was wet with glossy scarlet, and growled viciously. The gash wasn't deep, and wasn't likely to give her any issues, but it hurt ferociously. She rounded on them, sliding forward with a threatening snarl. "That was a bad idea."

She stopped, however, when she felt it. The deer lay there, bloodied sword up defensively as if he hoped she would just impale herself on it, but blinked uncertainly as the naga hesitated. Her wound burned like acid and been poured into it, and as her heart beat furiously, she felt a disconcerting tingling sensation spread from the site of the minor cut. She winced as she cradled her side, hissing in confusion as the weird effervescence continued to creep through her torso. "Wh-what...? What did you...?" Her lips parted to free a startled gasp as she felt the odd prickling touch her heart only to be suddenly shot through the rest of her body along the lines of her arteries.

Cold dread solidified in her but only to be swept away by a wave of ardent heat that shortened her breath in her lungs. Her scales burned. It felt like she needed to be touched, and her hand stole down her front, her pain momentarily forgotten as the potent aphrodisiac thundered through her veins. The unnatural warmth centered on her crotch, just where her humanoid torso connected to her serpentine form, and a harsh, urgent pressure rapidly built just behind her scales. "Oh..." she breathed, focusing on the object of her ire. She had to try not to laugh at the foolishness of what had happened. "Is that how you made them want you? Let me just say... that you really shouldn't have done that. Not to them, and definitely not to me, not without something a hell of a lot more concentrated." She clenched her teeth around a husky groan as she rose to nearly her full height, looming over them with her head nearly touching the ceiling. "Now you're in my jurisdiction."

His eyes nearly bugging out of his head, the horse scrambled to his hooves and tried to run blindly past her, intent on the door that, while open, may as well have been on another plane of existence. She stuck out her arm, jamming her palm into the breadth of his chest and stopping him short. He grunted, but didn't manage to get much else out as she heaved forward, levering the entirety of her body against his. The equine crumpled under her weight and went down heavily onto his back, born down by her impossible might. She felt his ribs crack under her fingers, and it looked like he tried to scream, but no sound came out. She left him to writhe, broken, on the floor as she advanced on the buck with a feral glint in her golden eyes.

Her scales rubbing over the floorboards as she moved were torturous bliss. Her body demanded her attention, but she shoved her instinct aside in favor of following the deer as he retreated back into the space, his cover gone and his blade looking increasingly useless. Her coils bunched behind her, sliding over one another as they began to crawl to the side, slowly encircling her prey. She heard him swallow, and she wondered for a brief moment why he didn't speak. They usually tried to justify their actions somehow, but he remained silent, knuckles white through his fur around his sword as his eyes darted around, searching for a way out.

His back nearly touched the far wall when she lashed out, darting in toward him while weaving from side to side. He dodged away, as she had predicted he would, and she didn't bother to continue her assault. He stumbled into the tip of her tail, which nimbly looped around his ankle and yanked his dainty, cloven hoof from beneath him. He yelped and fell, his sword clattering noisily away, and he let out a more natural sound, a terrified wail, as he was dragged into her ophidian coils. Struggling pointlessly, he was subdued, loops of her immense, bestial body wrapping around him and cinching brutally tight, pinning his limbs to his body and silencing any hope of him crying out for the mercy of whatever power would have listened.

The buck could only wheeze, struggle to breathe. Her teeth were bared in a pleased grin as she dragged him closer to herself and let out a low, intense moan at the sensation of her scales rubbing over themselves, the floor, and his weak, wriggling body. Everything felt so good, and she hummed, enraptured, as she fondly stroked the length of her body that was crushing his ribcage. It was sensitive. "I hate you." she admitted to him, "I hate you and everyone like you, but I need you to survive. Without you, I would have no purpose."

"P-please..." the deer gasped when he could, "Please d-don't kill me."

She hissed and tensed as another wave of painful ecstasy washed through her, pulsing in time with the ache in her side. It took a few seconds to relax herself enough to keep from crushing his ribs into his lungs. "I can't now. You can't threaten anyone anymore. That would be murder. It's not my place to decide your fate, and I wouldn't want that duty even if it were to come to me. The guard will process you, decide your crimes, and either punish you themselves or turn you over to the tribunal. It's unlikely that we'll ever meet again, actually." She looked him over, and back over at the semiconscious equine beside her, and sighed, reining herself in each time she throbbed beneath her scales. "Have you ever dosed yourself, just to see what it feels like? Do you ever wonder what it's like to have everything you are taken from you, to lose all control over your body?"

Panting, wriggling and grinding himself against her scales in a manner that left her nearly panting, he tried to speak, to answer. She shifted and squeezed the air from his lungs before he could use it. "Did they struggle? Did they tell you to stop before you took that power from them?" She ground her teeth as she watched even more color drain from his face. She shook her head and snorted, opening her mouth and flexing her fangs to free them from where they were folded against the roof of her mouth. Each was inches long and needle-sharp, and as if bringing them out was enough, beads of milky, amber liquid already hung pendulously from their fine points. Leaning down, and with a careful flick of her head, she let the barest hint of it drip onto her prisoner's upturned face. The buck flinched and blinked frantically when a drop fell into his eyes and he huffed through his nose to clear his nostrils of the murky liquid. It was too late though. "Enjoy." she seethed.

He gasped and stiffened, and she dumped him unceremoniously to the floor. Staring down at the envenomed buck, Cera watched his pupils dilate immensely, widening to swallow his irises as he stared numbly back up at her. She counted the seconds that passed. By two, he was fumbling with his pants. Quickly giving up, he was vigorously pawing at the bulge at his crotch at five. Within seven, his back was arched, his mouth open in an agonized moan as he emptied himself and left a sticky, dark spot in the fabric of his trousers.

Frowning in her revulsion, she turned and slithered away, listening as his coarse vocalizations gradually rose in volume as well as pitch. His orgasm wouldn't let up, building and building, searing his mind and body, and by the time she had reached the door, he was screaming, wet, gurgling sounds of absolute desperation. She left him and his accomplice on the ground, hand held protectively over her side, and stooped through the doorway and into the light of the outside world.

She had only made it a dozen feet away before the guards that had come with her ran up, saw her bleeding, and winced at the sound of the bloodcurdling wails emanating from the building. "I found two of them." she said flatly, trying to keep a tight rein on her own unwilling lust. One of the guardsmen, a tall, lean sheepdog, looked like he would prove himself a treat. She swallowed heavily before continuing. "Get the horse to a healer and make sure the deer gets plenty of water and they're all yours. If you need me for anything, I'll be at the Sanctum. I need to... go get this taken care of."

Turning aside, she waved away their assurances that their healer was perfectly capable of seeing to her injury. Luckily, they acquiesced without too much argument. She needed to get away from other people more than she needed to deal with the stinging in her side at the moment, and she kept her hands balled into tight fists at her side as she swayed away, down the street and in the direction of the inner city. Cera cursed the distance she would need to cross, hissing with each breath that stoked the infuriating fire in her chest, and grimacing as her body ached and throbbed with fitful urgency.

She groaned when Clara winged her way out of the sky, landing heavily before her. "There you are!" exclaimed the dragoness as she bounced forward, a happy grin stretched over her reptilian snout. "We found... Cera? What's wrong? I smell blood. Are you...?" She gasped and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, slipping under the naga's warding arms like they weren't there. "Dripping Ichor, what happened?! Here, hold still. I can fix you. Don't worry."

"I'm fine." she grumbled, "I'll be fine. Clara wait, just hold on. Slow down. Clara... It's alright. Just... Clara..." She hissed and finally managed to land her hands on the dragon's comparatively slender shoulders only to push her forcefully away. "Clara, would you just wait a minute!"

The dragoness stopped, blinking up at her outburst, but withdrew to arm's length. Her worried eyes darted down toward the curtain of blood that soaked her scales and seeped from the gash in her side. It was a lot, but she had plenty to spare. "Cera, what's wrong? I can fix you. Just let me get a good look. I'm better at it now than I was, I swear. I can even..." She hesitated, finally taking in all of the naga's tense, pained bearing: how her eyes seemed to have dilated until the slits of her pupils were almost round, the way her breathing shivered in her chest, and the way her fists were held firmly at her sides after leaping from the dragon's body before they could do something she would regret. Clara's nostril's flared as she sucked in a heavy breath. She couldn't have missed, at least with her sensitive, draconic nose, the way the serpentine woman reeked of raw, sexual tension. She could almost smell it roiling from herself as it was. "Oh..." she let out in a sigh of comprehension.

She closed her eyes and drew a restraining breath, more to stop undressing the dragoness with her eyes than anything. Clara was unfairly beautiful, with a luscious figure and an alluring, regal bearing that matched her rightfully prideful personality. She admitted to the dragoness that she thought her painfully attractive on normal days; as she was, there was a real, agonizing pressure that pulsed just underneath her scales that begged to be sated. "I just... need a few minutes Clara. Please... They got me, and it wasn't a little dose. Just... I need a minute."

The worry bled from the dragon's shoulders, and she let out a rich laugh. It made Cera blink in puzzlement. "Just a minute? I only need a few seconds to have you as good as new, but if you're willing to bleed another minute, I'm sure we could duck into some quiet alley for a little bit." She reached for the naga's taut arm. "I'll have all that tension out of you and drying on the ground in no time. Trust me. I'm an expert at this sort of thing."

Clara's fingers on her arm sent a bolt of panic through her. "No!" They were so calm and steady, nimble and, despite their wickedly sharp claws, gentle. Her mind immediately went to what they would feel like on her flesh, stroking and probing against her. She jerked away, retreating inward on herself as she fled, but the dragoness followed her back.

"Come on, Cera. It's fine. It helps; it really does. You know that better than most. I can help you. You shouldn't be alone, and you're hurt. Quit whining and let me help you."

She lashed out at the dragon, shoving her backward and nearly sending her sprawling across the ground. She winced, immediately regretting her roughness. "I'm sorry... But that's not what it's about! They... I need to work through it on my own. I can't give in! I can't! If I do, then they'll have gotten what they wanted! This is my body, and I will not have my actions dictated to me by anyone else! Now will you stop tempting me and back off?"

The dragoness's eyebrows drew down in sudden anger. Clara lunged forward, wrapping fingers around her wrists and holding her like a set of unmoving manacles. She had the body of a monstrously strong woman, and her physique told no lies about what she was capable of, but Clara was something else entirely. While possessing no small amount of lean, athletic muscle on her slender frame, the dragoness had the figure of a lusciously endowed dancer, lithe and graceful. However, Clara was easily a match for the naga in terms of brute strength, likely a better. With an aggressive snarl, the dragon pushed forward, slamming Cera's back into, and nearly through, the wall of another of the squat warehouses. "No!" growled the deceptively powerful woman, "You foolish, stubborn... snake!"

She struggled, uncertain of what was happening, when Clara sucked in a deep breath that left her hefty assets straining at the shirt that covered them. When the air left the dragon's lungs, it was joined by a cloud of thick, white mist that billowed between razored teeth. She gasped when it made contact with her scales, and began to thrash wildly, only held down by the unrelenting strength of the dragoness before her. It was like an icy sleet and a frigid mountain gale had combined in the depths of the Clara's chest and had subjected her to their bitter, unforgiving cold for hours in the span of a few seconds of exposure. When it ended, her upper body was glossed in a thin layer of crystalline ice and she could only focus on a single sensation, absolute, horrific cold. "Better?!" the dragoness nearly shouted at her, teeth snapping sharply to punctuate each word. "Now that you've cooled off, maybe I can stop you from bleeding out! In case you missed it, that cut is too deep to ignore, and I will be damned and descaled before I stand here and watch you pass out from blood loss! Now be silent and hold still!"

She couldn't make her mouth move enough to form words, so she only shivered and leaned back into the building behind her to keep herself upright. Clara huffed, clearing her nose of the last dregs of her freezing breath, and leaned down to get at the foot-long gash in Cera's side. It really did take no more than a few seconds, and she was numb enough to not even feel the dragon's fingers as she examined the wound. She laid those rending talons across the slice in the serpent's scales, closed her eyes, and concentrated for barely a breath. The naga grimaced, but eventually relaxed as the pain below her ribs was replaced with a more natural, pleasant tingling, and when the dragoness stood and stepped away, there was nothing to remind her of a wound but the blood she had already spilled.

"There..." said Clara with an indignant huff and a flick of her tail. The dragon crossed her arms under her bust and frowned at the quivering naga, watching the crust of ice she had deposited slowly melt. "Feel better?"

"Y-yes." she stammered, peeling herself off of the wall and cracking sheets of solid water from her body. Even some of her blood had been frozen and had been adhered to her scales. "I'm s-sorry. I just didn't want-"

The dragoness dismissed her apology with an idle wave of her hand. "I know, Cera," she sighed, her hard look softening somewhat, "and I understand, I suppose, as long as you know that you don't have to be alone. You don't have to be intimidating and stoic, not for me, or for the rest of the people who care about you. You remember that we're there for you, right, that you can let your guard down around us?"

"Of course!" she replied a little defensively while brushing flakes of ice from her shirt. "It's just... This is... It's personal."

The dragon reached up and scratched at one of her long, tapering horns with a slow nod. "Of course it is. Are you okay?"

She straightened and took a slow breath. The poison was still pouring through her blood, adding an unpleasant heat to her body, but Clara's frustrated attack had certainly taken the edge off of her unnatural lust. "I'm better now, yes. Thanks, Clara. Did you manage to catch the second horse?"

With another nod, the dragoness followed her down the street. "Yes... sort of. He didn't make it." she cocked an eyebrow, and Clara scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It wasn't me, either. He pulled a knife on one of the guards, and she didn't appreciate it at all. He was dead before I could kill him myself."

"Good riddance." growled the naga. "I took care of the other two, and they should live long enough to answer for their crimes."

Clara beamed triumphantly. "Good. Another successful adventure complete. This calls for a celebration!"

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Is that so? And what might you have planned?"

With a shrug, the draconic woman chuckled lightheartedly. "I'm not sure yet. I'll probably hunt down something to eat and then go to the mountains to do some decorating. I might even see if I can drag Daryn with me."

"I don't know how you two can get anything done around each other..."

"Exactly!" quipped the dragoness with a sly grin.

In spite of herself, she laughed, and Clara quickly joined her. Contrary to what she thought would be the case, slithering alongside the dragoness's calm confidence was more a comfort than a struggle, and blithe small-talk kept her mind off of the disconcerting tightness behind the scales of her loins. She focused on the ground directly in front of her, the massive pavers of Southcliff's main roads, rather than the way they scraped over her underbelly as she crawled along. She focused on the sound of Clara's voice rather than the way her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She forced down her unbidden desire while they made their way to the Sanctum, and her heart only skipped a single beat, rather than many, when the dragon pulled her into a brief, warm hug before giving her a fond farewell and leaping into the air, taking a shortcut to the Sanctum's courtyard.

She shivered and idly rubbed where the other scaly woman had clasped her arm, but quickly shook herself out of it and dragged her bulk in through the massive doorway. The place was, as usual, a hive of activity, with other Lancers going about their business at a bustling pace. She received more than a few waves and salutes of greetings before people managed to get a good look at her. At the sight of blood, many people stopped what they were doing entirely and rushed to her aid. She acknowledged them as quickly as she could, explaining that she was fine, and several minutes had passed before she had allayed enough worries to continue on her way.

Desiring for a little more than just getting the stains off of her scales, she made a beeline for one of the shower rooms. Entering the nearest, she interrupted a cheerful conversation between the Lancers already tasked with scrubbing the grime of the day from their fur and scales, and she had to quell yet more concerns before she could drag herself into an empty stall. Each was made with spaciousness in mind, and could easily accommodate even the largest of users. Still, she was more than just a twelve-foot reptile, and she had to do some careful arranging to be able to close the door behind her.

Finally as alone as she could be under the current circumstances, she let the tension bleed from her shoulders and relinquished her tenuous grip on her eroded propriety. Her thick, onyx claws dug into her palms as she flexed her body against itself, and a soft, strained grunt escaped her lungs as she lowered the barriers that had kept her contained. The normally hidden slit at her crotch parted forcefully, split by what rushed out of her. Voice shaking in a half-strangled gasp, she stared down the length of her body as not one, but two thick, turgid phalli erupted from her loins, ebony flesh already slick with her pent up fluids as each spurted gobs of viscous pre across the intricately mosaicked wall.

Beneath them, the similarly colored lips of her eager womanhood emerged from their hiding place behind her scales, and she slapped her hands heavily onto the wall, bracing herself with an energetic hiss. Her already engorged loins needed no further encouragement to throb and ache and flood even further with hot, eager blood. Her eyes lingered on thick, pulsing veins as her twin cocks surged outward, sable skin taut and shiny with her liquid lust. She just growled and reached down, past them, to find the small knob set into the wall. With a flick of her wrist, she twisted it as far to one side as it would go, simultaneously depressing a simple tile. From a spigot sticking from the wall in front of her came an abrupt shower of water, and she gasped reflexively as it washed over her chest and soaked through the torn and bloody shirt she hadn't bothered to remove.

The water itself was mundane, but magic was used to pump it from underground as well as heat it to any of a range of desired temperatures. Many distrusted magic, but at the mention of a hot bath at any hour of the day, most people ceased their grumblings. She grimaced and shuddered, however; she had the water running as cold as the spell would allow it. Still, she was almost surprised that the liquid curtain didn't steam and roil away when it contacted the boilingly hot flesh of her unnatural sexes. Instead, she groaned and fought the urge to retreat, keeping herself under the spray with stubbornness and a resolute snarl.

Heaving a shaky breath, she dipped her head down far enough to stick it under the water. The icy fluid sluiced off of her scales and dripped down her face, and a relieved sigh whispered through her parted lips as the frigid cold helped brace her even as it had her squirming while it dripped down her back. The serpentine woman stayed there for a moment, letting the rain drum down on the back of her head, before she let her hands move. They trailed down her body, and she investigated the site of her former wound. She poked and prodded, and gave herself a satisfied nod at the lack of anything even resembling a scar. It was as if the blade had never parted her scales.

That in mind, she set about removing any other traces of her injury. She scraped at her scales with the tips of her clawed fingers, scouring herself clean and marveling at how red the water ran from her body. She really had lost more blood than she had thought. It must have been the aphrodisiac increasing her heart rate and dilating her veins, and she told herself to be more aware in the future. She scrubbed the crimson from the fabric of her ruined shirt and slowly gave each foot of her ophidian lower body a steady once-over with a careful eye, only stopping when she satisfied that she was as good as she was when she woke up that morning.

That done, she returned her attention to the brace of forearm-length members standing urgently from her groin. Each was the equal of its twin, and they were situated above and below one another. Each was enormous, thicker than her wrist and possessive of a slightly tapered crown that was the size of her fist, and the water was doing disastrously little to dull their intermingled ardor. With a reluctant murmur, she straightened, letting the water beat down on her chest through her shirt while she scrubbed at her face.

She lingered there for minutes that she dared not count while listening to the patter of water on drenched cloth and the sounds of a few other people finishing their own showers only to be replaced by more. She devoted most of her attention to keeping track of the dull throbbing in her body that was matched by the content of her loins, and she breathed a grateful sigh when she felt the unwelcome ardor in her veins begin to abate, albeit reluctantly. She waited until she was absolutely certain that the poison had run its course, that she was no longer under its thrall. Only then, when the matching, onyx monoliths began to hesitantly deflate, did she let her hands fall beneath her waist to brush gingerly along her sagging tools.

Instantly, they snapped back to attention, pushing up into her waiting hands under their own disastrous tension. She held her breath as she gave herself a long, slow-paced stroke as a reward, each hand wrapped around a massive, ebony obelisk that throbbed between her gentle fingers. "Easy there..." she whispered to herself, barely audible to even her own ears over the sound of the water. Reaching down, she twisted the same knob, and the falling droplets quickly took on a less abrasive, lukewarm temperature. She tasted her own built-up desire on her tongue as it flicked between her lips, and she allowed herself to continue to touch her loins, lazily, tenderly.

Her breath caught in her throat as she fired a few weak spurts of slimy pre from her flaring heads, so she slowed down, let her fingers take time to fondle and caress each pounding vein, every square inch of herself. She shifted her grips, releasing her upper tool to use its downstairs neighbor to grind it up against the steely muscle of her abdomen, rubbing and pumping with a single, languid hand. With her freed arm, she teased downward, sliding a few fingers between her lust-parted lips and rubbing them over her aching entrance. Her clit practically vibrated with pure, sensual energy, and as blissful as she knew the contact would be, she ignored it, knowing that she would be unable to contain her ecstatic wails if she so much as brushed against it.

Instead, she slid a finger, and then two, into herself, curling them upward within her clenching tunnel to scrape over her sensitive inner folds while cautiously increasing the pace of her languorous stroking of her inhuman masculinities. Her fingers had no hope of fully encircling their girths, but she did her best, rolling her wrist and letting water ease her hand's passage. Her head fell back onto her shoulders, and a soft, husky sigh whispered from her chest. Her dripping coils twisted and writhed over themselves as she curled inward on herself, and she leaned forward far enough to rest her forehead on the tile in front of her. She caught a glimpse of the two hulking behemoths standing from her where her legs would have joined to her body, huge and hard and painfully tight, and she closed her eyes.

Rolling her hips forward, shifted atop her snakelike body and pushed herself into the wall, forcing the underside of her lowermost shaft up against the tile, grinding it up and down with each building undulation of her spine. Her hand went up to its brother, cinching tight around its throbbing girth and sharing what pleasure she could between them while sliding the fingers of her other hand with increasingly fervent energy into the pliant folds of her steamy slit.

There was little she needed to do to stoke her own fires. She was still coming down from the so-called high she had been subjected to, and it made each tantalizing stimulation effortless. Her powerful, practiced hands glided smoothly over her flesh, rolling over each vein and contour with rapt, devout attention, and she plumbed her depths with boldness that spoke of more than a few long, sleepless nights. She certainly knew herself better than any other could. It was a quick, easy task to apply herself to her self-pleasuring. As she moved against herself, she felt her ardor peak again and again with each stealthily lazy movement. Her monstrous, twin members dilated hugely, riding the edge of rapture for a few breathless seconds, and she slowed even further, withholding from herself what she had been forced to need.

Keeping herself on that very precipice, she toyed with her impossible sexes. Having two scorching, aching shafts to stroke and lavish attentions over was a blessing as much as a curse, for she only had two hands, and even a single massive tool was easily enough to occupy both. And that wasn't even taking into account her sometimes forgotten femininity. She had to make do with what she had available to her, however, and she stretched out her high for as long as she felt able, grinding and humping against the wall while pumping and rubbing over each slick square inch of flesh. Her own pre ran in rivulets down the undersides of her towering, three-foot cocks, and it gathered beneath her fingers faster than the water that poured down her body could wash it away.

With reaching her release firmly on her own terms on her mind, she pushed herself over that blurred line with a few firm, fast jerks of her hands, both along her stunning cocks and into and against the petals of her drooling flower. As sweet, orgasmic relief rushed through her body, she stifled her blissful groan into a soft, barely-audible whine, made deep and coarse only by virtue of her already low voice. For a brief second, the sounds of her twin pillars of obsidian flesh emptying themselves across the tiled wall overrode the sounds of water drumming down on her scales with lewd, wet splurting noises that could be mistaken for little else.

The strength of the muscles that lined her feminine walls matched that of the rest of her body, and they shuddered and locked up around her fingers, clenching tightly as she continued to gasp and meekly moan. She pushed her clawed fingertips against them, stretching and straining at her tight, velvety passage even as it hammered her confident digits with fast, rippling contractions. Each movement of her fingers within her sent bright, thunderous arcs of electric rapture up and down the length of her ophidian body, and she twitched and jerked numbly as she forced herself through an unnaturally intense orgasm.

Thick jets of her hot cum sprayed across the wall even as her slick, feminine lust spurted messily against her trapped hand. She emptied herself of gallons of the stuff over the course of a terse minute, milking each of her colossal tools in turn with fast, enthusiastic strokes that favored and savored her swollen cumveins. The water of her shower gradually washed it away, though it had no hope of removing it faster than she could deposit it with violently passionate force. Even while she was still dribbling streamers of virile, pearlescent jizz from her pulsing crowns, she scraped her mess from the wall, watching it clump and eventually be pulled down the drain set into the floor a single sticky strand at a time.

She waited until the last dregs of her lust were spent and issued from her body before she relaxed. She watched with a discerning eye as her engorged members finally began to deflate, and she allowed them to, pulling them back into her hidden slit when she thought them capable of being hidden so. Afterwards, the naga cleaned herself again, making sure none of her messy leavings clung to her scales before turning off the flow of warm water and pushing open the door to her stall. If the others in the shower knew what she had done, they showed no sign of it, and she waved idly at them as she crawled back into the gently curving hallway of the Sanctums ground floor, stull dripping water from her scales and the remains of her shirt.

She stopped by her quarters, a spacious, two-room affair that was open enough to suit even someone of her stature, and she took a few minutes to dry herself before discarding her ruined shirt and wrapping herself in a new one, still of the same, dark fabric. That done, Cera then slithered her way to her office, intent on getting at least a little real work done before the day was out. There was a stack of papers on her immense desk, one that most others had to stand to see over, and she settled into her coils while she took everything in.

The absurdity of her life struck her in that moment, and before she could make a pass at pulling the first notice forward for her attention, she found herself overcome by a fit of stubborn, bubbling giggles. After the day she'd had, here she was, behind a desk, a vial of ink and delicately-nibbed pens on her left and a pile of papers, some simple orders for supplies, others letters that needed her seal to be sent on her right. It was all so mundane, and that, coupled with her afternoon's activities, from getting cut open to furiously masturbating, left her bent forward over the sturdy wood of the room's only furnishing, laughing helplessly.

She felt ridiculous, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop and pull herself together until she heard a firm knock on her door. "Enter!" she called out, straightening her spine and wiping a frustrating tear from her eye. Someone catching her like that was sure to wreak havoc on her carefully-crafted image.

When, rather than the miscellaneous Lancer she expected, an enormous, golden-scaled creature crammed himself through the doorway, she jumped in surprise. "Cera?" exclaimed the Archmage as he rose back to his full, intimidating height and rushed over to her. "Clara found me and told me what happened. Are you okay?"

She slid backwards over herself as he rounded the corner of her desk. "Yes. I'm fine now. She helped me out, and I-Mmph!' Her rushed explanation was cut off when his hands found her shoulders and dragged her inward to crush her against the stripe of onyx scales that ran down his chest. The only thing he wore was a heavy, black longcoat that was sized to fit his broad, heavily muscled frame. It was left open down the front, having no hope of closing completely over the breadth of his torso, and she found her cheek pressed firmly into his chest as he hugged her tightly.

"Thank the gods." he said in a relieved sigh as he released her. "Clara said it was bad, and that you lost a lot of blood."

Straightening her shirt from where he had rumpled it, she shrugged. "I guess it was, but she fixed me up just fine." She glanced up at his bright, sapphire eyes and saw worry enough to make her cringe. Such concern didn't suit someone of his stature. He was at least two feet taller than she, with a crown of wicked, thorny horns that rose up around his main pair, which curved back over his skull before swooping back up to end in two vicious points. His jaw was graced with a line of spiky spines in a draconic equivalent of a beard, and he reached up to nervously scratch them with a sharp, obsidian claw, as was his habit. She just rolled her eyes and pulled his hand away from his face. "I'm fine, Daryn. Here, see for yourself."

His sturdy, horned eye ridge lifted curiously as she turned her side to him. With her free hand, she lifted her shirt to show him her side and the perfectly whole scales that resided there, and she slapped his fingers down on the spot of her previous injury to prove the veracity of her statement. He just hummed and squinted down at her, sinking down into a crouch to investigate further. She stifled a ticklish giggle as he poked and prodded at her, his wings shuffling idly against his back while he whispered a few unintelligible words. The scaly hide beneath his fingers tingled for a split-second, and when it was finished, he visibly relaxed, heaving a weak chuckle. "She really is getting better at that." he admitted, more to assuage his own worries. "It only took her decades... Yes, you're fine. You're okay."

"Told you." she said glibly while the immense dragon rose back to his taloned feet.

He scoffed as he walked around to the more proper side of her desk. "Yes, yes." said the Archmage, chastised, "Now tell me; what happened?"

Returning to her "seat", she told him her story, beginning with nearly getting knocked over and ending with her arrival to the Sanctum. She ended with a shrug and gently reassured him. "Relax, Daryn. It would take more than a few panicked runaways to do much worse to me."

The dragon broke into a pleased, knowing smile. "I'm sure it would, Cera. It's just in my nature to worry about my friends, especially when they come into my home covered in their own blood. Will you try--for me, at least--to take care of yourself? I'd like to keep you around for as long as I can."

Despite his rueful grin, she heard the uncertainty in his voice. The naga glided around her desk to sling an arm behind his back, pulling him into a more casual hug. "I will, Daryn. I promise. I sort of like being around, to be honest."

She bounced as he laughed against her. "Well that's a relief. Here I was wondering how I managed to keep you here for so many years."

"Who knows?" she playfully mused, "It must be some foul sorcery that's clouded my mind. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" He snorted and laid a hand over her shoulder blade, returning her confident embrace. It made her tail curl happily inward on itself. "You're right, it must just be that having people to rely on and who rely on you is reason enough to stick around." The dragon hummed his agreement, his voice thunderous in the depths of his massive chest. He was warm, and solid, and she had no qualms about resting herself against him. "Thank you, Daryn."

He chuckled again. "For what?"

She squeezed him hard enough to drag a strained grunt from his lungs. "For worrying about me." Peeling herself off of him, she gave the scales of his muscular chest a fond pat while she rearranged her girthy coils into a more comfortable position. She looked up at him, and his warm smile, his face friendly despite its savage appearance, and then looked down at herself, at what she was. It was something she did on a daily basis. "Daryn?"

Cocking his head to the side, he answered her hesitant question with one of his own. "Hmm?"

Her fingers busied themselves realigning her shirt on her chest, ever trying to find a flaw in the way it hugged her and always failing due to its flawless fit. He had made her entire wardrobe, for conveniences sake. Her unique requirements would have made an unprepared tailor faint, simply from how much cloth even a simple shirt would require. "How much of our afternoon did Clara tell you?"

"Just that you had been hurt, and that she had worked a little of her own brand of magic on you. She managed to put everything back where it belonged, if it's any consolation."

"No, no." she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She did fine. I was just wondering... Never mind about that." The Archmage's eyebrows fell, matching the mood of his thin, draconic lips as they pursed thoughtfully while she faltered for a heartbeat. "Daryn, is there something wrong with me?"

He didn't even consider the possibility. "Of course not. I suppose it depends on how you mean, but you're perfectly alright physically, magically. You always had a particularly vibrant aura. There weren't any blemishes the last time I checked, and you certainly seem healthy. Why? What's wrong?"

With a nervous hand, she raked her claws along her spiny mohawk. "Nothing, but that's what's been worrying me lately, the past few years. I keep thinking about it more and more often."

A puzzled frown dominated his features. "What do you mean?"

"Daryn, I'm more than seventy years old. Seventy..." Just saying the words made her spine shiver anxiously. "It's been great, and it never really bothered me until recently. I didn't really have any family when I was in the sisterhood, and all of my friends--well, most of them--are particularly blessed with long life. I guess it's just been nagging at me. I'm into my eighth decade of life, but I don't feel like it. I feel the same as I did the day I... I was made like this. Better, really, because I'm more... accustomed to it, I suppose. I wake up every morning with this excited energy. I feel just as strong as I look, and I can throw myself head-first into whatever problem I come across without having to worry about my body failing me because of a creaky joint or fragile bone. I... I still feel young, and it's beginning to get to me, Daryn. I can't explain it. I'm no sorceress. I have no real power. The only thing of note that's ever happened to me was..." She paused, sweeping a hand down herself in exhibition. "Was this, and that wasn't really the most wholesome experience. Is... Is there something wrong with me? Is there some... some taint that's clung to me? It's concerning me. I don't regret it, not in the slightest, and I plan on taking advantage of it for as long as the gods allow, but it would weigh less heavily on my mind if I could know for sure that I'm not... not really a monster, not some unnatural abomination."

He had crossed his arms during her long-winded outpouring, but at that they dropped limply to his sides as he let out an enduring sigh. "I'm not sure what you want from me, Cera. I'm not really one who deals in the natural or normal, if you remember, and I don't really think either of us is entitled to speak of monsters." Pausing, he used his wings to push himself off of the wall against which he had been casually leaning, and he took up her hands in his. "I can say that you're my friend, and I care deeply for you. I can say that I pray you live forever, because you can do so much good, more than most. You have that within you at least. If you like, I can even check you again, prove to you, show you that the only strength you carry is your own, and I can say that strength was well-earned."

She opened her mouth to speak, voice her concerns again as if addressing them again would help vanquish them, but he gentle silenced her with a firm squeeze of her upturned palm. He whispered a single word, and before his outstretched hand flickered to life a small, fist-sized orb of bright, glowing radiance that burned a hue to match the shining gold of his scales. He held it out to her, hovering it above his own palm before sliding it beneath hers. The wisp of his essence followed where he led it, and as it passed above her hand, she felt the spell in another bout of calm tingling. The Archmage passed his power through her, just a spark, and the light that he had manifested reflected her aura, turning a pure, vibrant crimson. It was the color of fresh, healthy blood, translucent and luminous, a color that she found intimately familiar, despite having rarely seen it. It was her.

He left it there, letting her see the purity of her essence while he spoke. "You said that you're not a sorceress. That much I can say with perfect confidence is true. But this world is home to many kinds of magic, and though mine might be the most common, it's by far the only. I work with focus, and study, and endless hours of practice. I have centuries of experience, and I still find myself learning things I could have only imagined. It's one of the reasons I finally took on apprentices, to learn and share a little of my own knowledge in return. But there are hedge wizards who work on instinct more than training. Their magic comes from the same source, all around us, but it manifests through them differently. If you could get one to trust you enough to open up to you, you could also find witches and warlocks who channel the power of extraplanar entities directly through the Veil, things some would erroneously call demons. Some creatures were born with magic, like Cara and the other dragons. Others were born untouched and have simply stolen it, using artifacts older than the Ordo Arcanum to temporarily infuse themselves with raw energy. You yourself were a sister of Amara. Surely you witnessed miracles, priestesses channeling the power of the gods directly through themselves. That's beyond even me, though I can replicate certain spells fairly simply. Faith is a powerful, powerful thing when focused, and I've known priests who lived for centuries."

"But I renounced that life, turned my back on it!" she cried out, jerking her hand away and watching her little magelight gutter and die. "I... That isn't me anymore. I've got far more important things to concern myself with than making sure some goddess stays pleased with me."

"I would agree." he smoothly replied, "And you say that with confidence I admire. I'm a wizard. Words are powerful, powerful things in my line of work, but I never said that faith needed to be put into a divine to function as it does for some, faith can be put in things other than gods and angels and miracles. I know that I, at least, have faith in my friends, and my family. The gods rarely ask permission before doing as they do, particularly when one does there work, and especially when it is done without expectation of such a reward." He stepped back up to her and laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I'm not saying that you're some battle-cleric or unkindled witch, of course. All I'm trying to say is that there are a great many wonders in this world, and so long as there isn't anything wrong, you shouldn't worry so much about it."

"Daryn..." she said quietly, disbelieving. "It's not that simple."

"It rarely is." he admitted with a slow nod, "But I've found that's usually the case with most things. You asked me if there was anything wrong with you, and I can answer that with an unequivocal no. You are brilliant and wonderful and a good, true friend, a heroine for one of Valorie's books, and I promise that if I notice something amiss with you, you will be the first to know."

She lowered her eyes to stare at his toes. "So there's not... I don't... I-"

"Cera." said the dragon flatly. He reached down and tucked a claw under her chin, gently lifting her head back up to look at him. "I wish there was more I could do to ease your concerns, but the truth of it is that I'm not sure what's giving you your longevity. It might be some lingering effect from what happened to you, it might not." His hands fell to her arms, and he hauled her upright from where she had curled inward onto herself, bracing her. "Either way, I can't think of a more deserving woman."

When the Archmage released her, she stubbornly kept her back straight. "Thank you." she whispered, her voice quiet and raw with emotion. "I mean... It's not like this is eating me alive or anything, but it's feel good just to hear someone tell me I'm being crazy."

"Well, I never said you weren't crazy." he said with a cheerful chortle, "I'm not really qualified to judge people's sanity, considering my profession and hobbies. But I can definitely say that you're not alone. If you ever need someone to be crazy with, I promise I'll be around. In fact, if you'd like, I'd be happy to teach you a few mental exercises. I find a little inner focus does wonders. And who knows? Maybe you'll be able to cram something through the twins' thick skulls. Gods know that they're becoming resistant to my usual methods."

The two young wizards took after their mothers, that much was certain. "I might just do that. Do you think anything will come of it?"

"If you're wondering whether or not you're secretly a powerful sorceress and I'll figure out your great secret, no, probably not. If you're wondering whether or not it will help you better know yourself... Perhaps. It couldn't hurt, and I definitely wouldn't mind the chance at some peace and quiet every now and again."

"Well I guess I have to do it then, for you." She said with a hesitant smile.

He acquiesced with a polite bow of his regal, horned head. "Only if you want to. But it would be a pleasure."

Her happy grin split her mouth and showed her teeth. "That settles it, then." She reached out and hugged him again, parting only when he hesitantly mentioned that he had things that required his attention. He seemed unwilling to pull away, and she eventually let out an enduring groan and shoved him from her. "You better get going, old man, before something explodes. I'll be around, and if you can manage to make time for some peace and quiet, I promise I can too."

Complaining weakly, the dragon allowed himself to be forced across the room with sharp prods into his ribcage. Eventually, Daryn relented, laying a hand on the door and taking a deep, steadying breath. She shooed him from her office, and he scurried out into the hallway as well as he could, leaving her alone with a lingering smile. She sighed as she dragged herself back across her room, pausing before the long window that dominated one wall to look out at a few handfuls of Lancers running through drills in the afternoon shade. Her hand still tingled with the ghost of the Archmage's spell, and she looked down at it while balling it into an experimental fist. As she let out a tense breath, she shivered despite the comfortable warmth of the air in her room.

She needed another shower, a long, cold one.