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Dignity For Honor

"How long must I hold this pose, Sire?" Hyranyr asked through clenched teeth, one front talon up and wings partially spread for balance. The blue quadruped dragon was serving as a muse for a noble lady seeking to better her artistic skills, which meant that he had to assume a very specific position for however long his new master wanted.

His wizard mentor, an old man by the name of Kylen Roe, stepped up behind the lady drawing Hyranyr's pose. "Act like the noble dragon that you are, Hyranyr. Her father paid me a lot of money for the fine specimen that you are. It would be quite rude to disrupt the creation of this masterpiece." He explained, lightly padding at the noble woman's shoulder again and walking away.

"Hands off me," she demanded, practically hissing at Kylen.

Somewhat taken aback, Kylen pulled away and bowed to her, profusely apologizing for his lack of respect. He then turned to Hyranyr with narrowed eyes of disapproval, hinting at the repercussion that might follow if he twitched a single talon.

One hour into the still life, and he didn't know if he was close to finishing or not. Even speaking was a challenge, as he couldn't move his jaws to make the sounds needed to communicate. "The wise say art is pain, but I didn't expect the saying to be so literal. My joints ache from being in this position, my wings are cramping up, and if I could just-"

He was cut off mid-sentence by the artist getting to her feet and throwing a pencil at him, the wood of it bouncing off Hyranyr's horn to land on the ground before him.

"Would this sullen beast keep quiet! He's affecting my mood, and I'll never be able to finish this before sundown with him asking questions! Now tame your beast or I'll have my father rescind his payments, understand old man?" She glared at Kylen and grabbed another pencil from her lectern and furiously kept at her sketching.

Hyranyr, growing increasingly irritated, growled as he repeated the question. "Well, if I knew how much time was left, I could adjust my pose accordingly, my lord." He did feel bad about reacting in such a way because he knew he would be punished, but he didn't appreciate being treated in such a way and certainly didn't enjoy having pencils thrown at him.

Despite being known for being ornery, arrogant, selfish, and somewhat useless, Kylen did have a soft spot in his heart for Hyranyr so he did glance over the artist's shoulder to get a good look at her work. He then told Hyranyr, "It looks like the sketch is about half done, with some detail on your face and shoulders. I'd say, about 40% complete?"

"Less than half?" Hyranyr whimpered, a light whine coming from deep within his gullet as he folded his wings up and stretched his back. "I can't do this for another hour and a half, Sire Kylen. I just cannot."

This, however, enraged the noble woman artist, who got to her feet and raised her hands in anger as she yelled at both Hyranyr and Kylen. "How am I expected to work with a beast that doesn't know how to hold still?" She started packing up her art supplies, folding her easel and returning her pencils to her lectern, slamming them down in the process.

Kylen was not one to let coin walk away like that, so he nervously stepped up to her, rubbing his hands together in fear. "So, will you be leaving? I do apologize for my beast, he just wasn't prepared for your rigorous detail work, I'm sure you understand."

She took in a deep breath and held her head high as she aggressively shoved her supplies under her arm, shaking her head in disdain before responding. "I will have to pick this up tomorrow, anyway. The sun has shifted positions and the light is affecting my work. Good day, Sire!" She turned and stormed away up the forest path to the keep that both Hyranyr and Kylen called their home.

When she was out of earshot, Kylen turned to Hyranyr and stabbed a finger at him. "What was that, Hyranyr? I could have made a lot of money off that client if you'd just held still for a few hours! I know she's not coming back, now. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Hyranyr hung his head, sighing deeply. "I just, I feel like I could be doing so much more with my life, Sire Kylen. I'm a dragon, not some scaled beast to be coddled like a pet. For years now I've been protecting your personal keep in the woods here, and all I've gotten from it was the most simple of spells. I can be doing so much more with my life. I can be someone, I can help others, and I can't do that here, especially not when you're having me distinctly do nothing while I pose for a pretty sketch." He paused and shook his head, remorseful that he'd gone on such a tangent. "I'm sorry, sire, I just-"

Kylen leaned into him and cradled his cheeks, halting his apology. "That's okay, my dear. I actually have something quite grand planned for you, something that will put your skills to use and give you purpose in life after neither your family nor I could do so."

Hyranyr lifted his head up in excitement. "That is the opportunity I have waited!"

"Wonderful!" Kylen said, patting Hyranyr's neck with great enthusiasm. "You leave first thing in the morning. They will be here to pick you up and take you to your outpost. So, fill your belly tonight, as it may be the last time we see each other."

Though that might have been a cause of sadness for Hyranyr, he had spent the last two years training with the old wizard, two years in which he had yet to find his real purpose. Due to his nonexistent affinity for magic, his parents had shipped him off to 'train with a wizard' to embolden his skills, but upon arriving Hyranyr had learned that Kylen was a swindler more than anything else. He only knew some basic, low level magic and seemed keener on using Hyranyr for protection or to make some coin.

The news that the two would soon be parting ways was good news to Hyranyr, yet he kept his expectations in check as he didn't trust a word that old wizard spoke to him, not after years of lies and deception. With that in mind, Hyranyr bowed and took his leave, resisting the urge to shout aloud in happiness knowing that this chapter of his life had nearly concluded.

And where one chapter ended, another began.

Hyranyr didn't quite know how to feel when he found out that Kylen's plan involved having him get conscripted into the Untherian military, where he was to be deployed as part of the auxiliary regiment high in the mountains protecting a narrow pass. As it was explained to him, this regiment consisted of about two hundred fifty soldiers and three dragons, including him, and that they weren't expecting to see much in the way of action since the pass that they guarded was not considered to be a hotspot for the enemy.

As Kylen had put it, this was the perfect opportunity for Hyranyr to show the world his true value, to be a hero, and to make up for years of toiling away in obscurity.

"You will do great," Kylen reassured Hyranyr as he pushed him out the door. "You are the best dragon I had ever known."

Hyranyr paused for a moment, wishing to bid his farewells as well, but Kylen patted his snout and pointed forward, wearing his usual, conniving smile. "Don't look behind, Hyranyr. Look ahead. Is what I always do. Now go, before they depart without you."

Kylen's excitement gave Hyranyr mixed feelings. On one wing, he was going to meet new people and expand his skills while also becoming part of something bigger than himself. On the other wing, the auxiliary seldom saw skirmishes. But wasn't that a good thing? After all, he had a lot of catching up to do.

Hyranyr lacked magic, but he knew that he was both strong and agile, two traits that were very important in battle. Too bad his family never recognized these skills. To be fair, dragons were known for their vast magic skills in addition to their strength, so he still felt like he wasn't living up to his potential, but he knew he had something to offer the world, the people, and his kind.

It was a recruiter who came to pick him up that morning, guiding Hyranyr from the woods and keep that he reluctantly called his home and to the mountains where the regiment was deployed. Something about the way he was escorted up the mountain trails made him feel like a prisoner, and he couldn't place a claw on any one reason why. Just a feeling he had.

Upon arriving at the mountainside plateau, he was greeted by a rather vast, open encampment with dozens of tents, training areas, an armory, and three far larger tents up atop some cliffs. Soldiers in armor were walking to and fro, cavorting and chatting with one another while conspicuously avoiding all eye contact with Hyranyr, which unnerved him a bit as he was one of three dragons at this camp, which should have made him a big deal.

Instead, they were sparring with one another, practicing with bows, and wrestling to keep themselves occupied while drill instructors scrutinized them.

While it did seem peculiar that so little attention was paid to a dragon walking calmly through the camp, Hyranyr did remind himself that he had not done anything of note, and as such had no reason to be revered. If anything, that inspired him to work even harder, to give them a reason to look.

He was escorted through the camp to the largest of the tents, where he was informed the Lord and Colonel, the two in charge of the camp and the military leaders assigned to the pass, would both be present.

His excitement soared as the plan for his future was laid out before him. While he was to be granted a day to explore the camp and make himself comfortable by getting to know the other dragons and at least a few of the soldiers, his training was to begin the following day. He would be fitted with armor, and tested for aptitude in a dozen different categories to find his best suited purpose on the battlefield. Lastly, he was to hone his strengths, rather than make up for his lacks, a philosophy Hyranyr beamed at the sound of. Excellent news!

After being set at ease by the colonel and lord of the regiment, he was given free time to do as he would for the rest of the day. Problem was, he quickly found he was too shy to approach anyone and dared not seek out the other two dragons at the camp for fear of making a fool of himself. He had the whole world and a new life ahead of him, and he couldn't get over that self conscious fear of failure that had marred every stage of his life up to that point.

Instead, he casually observed the camp from afar, resting at the edge of the clearing by the tree line while the others all practiced. Much of the day went by as he tried to put together the social structure of the military men and women that made up the two hundred fifty soldiers. Six hours later, he still had no idea as to what the social hierarchy was around here. Everyone kept to themselves, traveling from one area of the camp to another in groups of two or three at most.

Fine. People didn't interest him anyway, but the dragons, on the other wing...those seemed promising. The first was a wingless shimmering gold dragoness with scales like a thousand coins and a thick mane of fur down her spine with spines poking out from the luscious locks. The second was a long, thin dragon with orange fur and black patterning comprised of spots on his front half and stripes on his back half; he had cream colored belly fur and a more reserved auburn mane, as well as a silken tail tip. Both of them were quite small compared to Hyranyr, his size advantage stoking his confidence, if only barely.

"E-excuse me," Hyranyr said to a group of soldiers passing by. "Can you tell me more about them?

A rather tall reptilian solder scoffed at him. "Yes. They're dragons."

Hyranyr blushed over the chuckles of his companions. "I know that, but I wasn't introduced to them yet. Might I know their names? To properly greet them?"

The reptilian squinted and glanced over to his companions before rolling his eyes, sighing in disdain. "The orange one is named Tarenad, a loner with a temper if you ever try to get a word out of him. He's weird like that," he explained to both Hyranyr and his mates. "Golden one's Ilyniel. She is...complicated, but you seem like a male of many talents so you will figure her out right away." He stopped just short of a chuckle, mockingly inviting Hyranyr to make his way down the pathway to the dragons.

Now that he started this, he had no choice but to go forth and make a fool of himself while the sardonic reptilian watched.

Nervous as can be, he trotted forth down the thick path that cut the camp in half - the same path that led into the pass that the regiment was tasked with protecting - to make his way to the cliffs where Ilyniel was basking in the sun. When he arrived, he glanced back to see the two soldiers who urged him on smiling and staring intently.

A sweeping sense of dread overcame him, urging him to turn back. Something was bound to go wrong; perhaps he'd squeak nervously or worse, sneak a peek under her tail without her approval.

"Well hello down there." Ilyniel called down from atop her grassy cliff. "Come up here so I can admire you better." She shifted in place so that more of her body was dangling over the cliff, staring intent at Hyranyr as he looked up at her.

Hyranyr gulped heavily and approached her, wings slumped, eyes evasive. "I'm still relatively new to the military scene, so I have a lot of training to do before I reach my true potential, but I know in my heart and soul that I won't let you down," he said the first thing that crossed his mind, awkward as it sounded.

In response, she huffed gently, tiny little wisps of smoke coming from her nostrils. "Are you a mind reader, perhaps?"

Hyranyr perked up, only to glance away as he realized her true meaning. "Not that I know of."

"Then assume the role of one." She smiled and held her head high over him. "It wasn't that much of a pleasure to meet you, blue scales, so off you go to indulge in your glorious quest."

"Name's Hyranyr, m'lady Ilyniel." He quickly offered, bowing submissively. "And I apologize for speaking out of turn. My life never had a purpose, so finding one is truly fascinating."

"Spoken like a male who had never been inside a female." Ilyniel grinned at how uncomfortable her assumption made him. "If you don't fall during our first skirmish, I might just help you with your quest." She then laid her head down and closed her eyes, having already retired from their conversation.

Hyranyr felt awkward just standing there on the pathway with the wingflutters in his belly. He handled himself well, which was absolutely astounding given the fact that it had been so long since he'd seen another dragon. Ilyniel had also offered her help, and that only made Hyranyr feel even more inadequate knowing that he was about to disappoint her with his lack of magic skills.

Fortunately for him, he had the rest of the day to better acquaint himself with the rest of the soldiers at the camp. Given his encounter with Ilyniel, he didn't feel confident in approaching Tarenad, not after hearing of his reputation.

So, trotted from one training area to the next, investigating the various barracks and talking to the armory blacksmiths. As he went from place to place, he couldn't help but catch as many glances over towards Ilyniel, smiling at how the sun reflected off her golden scales. Every moment he spent basking in her resplendent glory quickly lost itself to time as he got caught up in her visage.

The poetry in his mind may have been rudimentary, but he couldn't help but conjure up images of this female dragoness shaking her mane off as she walked towards him, the orange glow of the morning sun reflecting off her scales.

"So, are you interested in the white and red or the black and red?" The blacksmith asked, holding up a tightly woven chain mail chestplate. "I can do either with dyes, and neither affect the structural integrity of the armor."

This snapped Hyranyr from his daze. "Oh, sorry. I guess I like the black better, plus it might work better at night, right?"

"You're not incorrect." The blacksmith concurred. "Be sure to come around tomorrow for a fitting. I've taken all your measurements and I have what I need to start you out on your journey. I want to warn you, however, that it will take about a half dozen refitting sessions before you can wear your custom armor into battle. This is a long process, and dragons are particularly difficult to properly equip. You know, I-" The blacksmith was interrupted by a regal sounding, sultry voice.

"I'm sure he knows about armor fitting, Fiven. He's in it for the glory, yes?" It was Ilyniel, having somehow hopped down from her perch to stealthily show up behind Hyranyr without him noticing. She looked him in the eyes and grinned lightly at him. "I reconsidered my stance. A male as awkward as you is bound to upset the spirits around here, so I'm here for damage control. Let's go, shall we?" She said, tipping her head to point back to her massive tent up on the cliffs above the camp grounds.

Hyranyr was at a loss for words as he gulped and glanced around, unsure of how to respond to that. "Th-thank you?" He said with an upwards inflection, as if it were a question.

"Don't thank me," she said as she turned around and slapped him in the neck with her tail. "Since you behave like a hatchling, I'll treat you like a hatchling. First thing to know is that you must never interact with Tarenad. His uses are few and his issues many, and given the way you stare at me, you're better off in female company anyway." She trotted away, urging Hyranyr to follow.

Eager to learn anything he could from her, he kept pace with her through the winding trail that led to the higher plateau that housed her personal tent. All the while, she doled out tidbits of advice about what life was like at the pass, the daily training expectations, as well as her accomplishments since joining the military earlier that year. Hyranyr came to realize very quickly that she was quite self-assured and confident in her skills, and seemed to like bragging about it. Her ego was massive, but if half of the things she spoke were truth, then she deserved it.

As it turned out, her personal quarters weren't just hers, as it was meant to serve as a barracks for both the dragoness and her dozen biped handlers. Inside, there were two distinct halves, Ilyniel's sleeping quarters on one side and the dozen cots for her handlers on the other, divided by a series of dressers and armories placed back to back to chop the tent in half.

Upon arriving, every one of the handlers got to their feet and stood in a line like the soldiers they were, prepared to work. Half of them were reptilian bipeds, while the others were a mix of canine, human, and feline. "Miss Ilyniel, we're prepared for your orders." The one in the middle said with a salute. She was a black and gray lizard with what looked like armor plating on her arms and back. She, like every other of the twelve handlers, wore a simple beige tunic to cover her body with a tiny red cross on her shoulder.

"No needs for me tonight, Aggi, just want to introduce you all to the new recruit!" Ilyniel stepped to the side and revealed Hyranyr, her tail lightly prodding at his shoulders to urge him forth. "His name is Hyranyr, and he's going to be our aerial support for as long as he lasts in this risky line of work." Ilyniel turned to face Hyranyr, a glint in her eyes. "Tell them of your aspirations. I'm sure they will find them fascinating."

His pupils in both excitement and panic. "O-oh, okay then. Yeah, I'm Hyranyr, as she said, and I'm still relatively new. Just joined the military because I felt it was time to do something better than protecting some old coot of a wizard. I've got so much more to of-"

"And that's the synopsis to his convoluted, circular ramblings." Ilyniel interrupted before addressing Aggi. "Have you got my chambers ready? I was thinking perhaps we could go ahead and have a bit of a shared dinner tonight. Infuse some new experiences into a dragon that hasn't experienced much, mating counting amongst the list."

Aggi nodded, waving her hand towards Ilyniel's half of the tent. "Everything is ready for you, miss Ilyniel." The other handlers all glanced at each other in between curious looks at Hyranyr.

"Good, come on, all of you." She dove into her side of the tent and flopped onto her side, exposing her belly as she came to rest on what looked like a giant, flat pillow that served as a nest. "Come, come, don't be shy." She assured, using her tail to guide all the handlers and Hyranyr into her quarters.

While most of the handlers giggled and gossiped among themselves as they arranged themselves into what appeared to be predetermined seats on various bits of furniture, Aggi leaned in close to Hyranyr, whispering at him while Ilyniel chatted with the others. "Don't let her intimidate you too much, my friend. She's got a very powerful personality and she can be competitive, but she means well and she's the best mage I've ever seen, so I guess she's kind of earned it."

"I-I'll keep that in mind, thanks." Hyranyr accepted, then realized he had an opportunity before him. "You say she's a mage, you think she'll teach me? I used to be with a wizard until just this morning, but he wasn't all that good."

Aggi cocked her head to the side as her tail flicked out aggressively. "Mediocre wizard? Was he by any chanced named Kylen?"

Hyranyr blinked and gulped before slowly nodding. "Y-yeah, why?"

"And you say you chose to come to the military? Hun, I don't want to ruin your day, but if that's the old coot I'm thinking about, I bet you were sold to the military. Probably for a mediocre sum, too. Maybe it's better you're here now, but I doubt it was done for altruism on his part."

The dragon's heart sunk as his wings flopped to the ground at his side. He wanted to argue with her, to say that she didn't know Kylen like he did, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Kylen had used Hyranyr to do physical labor, pose for portraits, and 'paid' him with access to magic lessons that he kept delaying. Prior to his departure, the look on Kylen's face was one of extreme happiness, and then followed that awkward march wherein Hyranyr felt like a prisoner being led into the mountains to be executed.

"I get the impression I really hit that spike on the head, didn't I?" Aggi cooed at him while gently caressing his shoulder. "I'm sorry for that, but come on, you're in a better place now."

From deeper in the tent came the sultry, regal voice of Ilyniel. "What's taking you two so long! If you stay out there, I'm going to assume you are giving Hyranyr private lessons on what it means to be a male." She trilled at them with a smile as two of her handlers stepped up with bits of cloth to start rubbing at her golden scales.

Aggi raised a claw. "Sorry, sorry!" She then tatted Hyranyr on the shoulder and hopped over into Ilyniel's quarters, sitting in a nice-looking bean chair. Odd amenities for the military, but it made sense knowing that her job was to keep an adept dragoness mage happy.

Hyranyr followed suit, slipping into the tent after her and laying on his side opposite Ilyniel. All of the dozen hired handlers sat around the edge of the room, quickly getting comfortable in their spots with both dragons on either side of the room. He didn't feel like talking, as he didn't know how to start the conversation, so he simply smiled and waited for someone else to say something.

Almost a full minute passed before Ilyniel leaned in toward him. "Begin," She insisted. "You're the one we don't know, after all, and don't give us that bedtime story from before."

He nervously batted his eyes from one side to the other, tail twitching in anxiety. "I really don't know what to say, I'm not really all that interesting..."

"Tell us about your younger days," Ilyniel took the lead, as if setting up for this precise moment. As she spoke, three of the handlers had sidled up next to her to rub and shine up her golden scales, with one casually brushing her long mane around the protruding spines.

"That's an even more boring story than the previous." He started, but then paused when he saw that all the others were staring up at him with wide eyes. "Despite me being a dragon, I've never had any particular skills with magic, unlike my siblings. My sister especially was quite talented, if I remember correctly." He paused to see if that garnered any reactions.

Only Ilyniel scoffed and shrugged a bit, but still urged him to go on with his tale.

"They sent me to special skills to teach me magic, but gave up when I didn't immediately show progress. I mean, I was only there for a month or something, it's not like they'd just inject potion into me and then I'd be a grand wizard." He thought he had said it like a joke, but none were laughing so he carried on. "After that, I focused much of my life honing the skills I possessed. That's why I'm as big as I am, I did a lot of exercise and strength training, as well as a lot of practice with my speed and agility. I'm not as good as the felines or avians, but I'm told I'm more agile than most dragons, so I suppose that's a skill worth being proud."

"It is, yes. I am sure that the troop can use that in some way, but it does concern me that you're not skilled in the ways of the mage. We do need healers and if you're an aerial combatant, then perhaps you'd be most useful with some storm magic, or raining fire upon our enemies. Everyone in our camp will be looking to you to set the tone, are you going to be able to deliver?"

That was precisely the sort of outspoken concern that gave him anxiety. Dozens of retorts arose in the back of his mind, some of them witty, some sardonic, others defeatist, but he ended up going with the most sincere reaction. "I may not be exceptional, but I'm here to fight for you all, and I will do all I can to protect you and watch over this pass. I'm not a soldier, I'm not a mage, but I am a dragon of heart and spirit. You can count on me, and with the right tutor, I'm absolutely certain that I can learn magic just like anyone else."

His miniature speech put a smile on Ilyniel's face, her eyes slowly blinking as she stared right at him. "Well, then I consider that a challenge for me to overcome. It sounds like you weren't naturally gifted in the ways of magic like many of us, but nobody is entirely without potential. I shall teach you whatever I can, in all the topics I am well versed in."

Ilyniel's eyes glimmered with concealed intent, that predatory look making him stir between his haunches. She did that on purpose, fully aware of where Hyranyr's thoughts would lead him.

He raised a talon to stop her. "I wouldn't get too worked up, m'lady. My last teacher was a wizard who really didn't know all that much about how to teach magic. He taught me some basic stuff like fire, ice, and bold magic, but only the most rudimentary sort. He mostly used me to make ice cubes or start his fires, when he wasn't pretending to train me by making me do all the hard labor around the keep. Frankly, he would have been better off learning levitation spells."

"Sounds like that old goof Kylen down in the valley." Ilyniel laughed, her entire body heaving. "I hope you never come across that old fool, as he'd probably set you back three years."

Hyranyr blushed and averted his eyes. "Uh, that was who offered their tutelage, and I was with him two years." He admitted. That silenced the whole room. "Yeah, I know, let's all laugh."

"Well, we can laugh if you'd like, but I really don't think that it would be fair to you. You got sold into old wizard slavery, then sold into the military. That's a pretty rough life." Ilyniel explained, slowly shaking her head even as her handlers kept brushing her and cleaning her scales. "I mean, it's kind of silly that you didn't realize this. Kylen is a terrible and unsubtle old man."

Hyranyr sighed and shook his head, staring at the ground before him in shame as he tried his best to change the subject. Luckily for him, the others seemed keen on moving on as well and were happy to talk about battle strategies, future plans, the cute reptilian soldiers that they were dating, and their planned life after the war.

Typical gossip and small talk.

All throughout the evening and night, Hyranyr found himself drawn to Ilyniel more and more. Her confidence, her self-assured and enigmatic nature were all eliciting emotions in him that he didn't know he could have for another.

Hyranyr couldn't help but stare longingly at Ilyniel, basking in her beauty and wondering to himself if perhaps he was falling for this gorgeous dragoness. He knew that was foolish, in a way, yet he couldn't resist her charms or the way she looked at him. He hadn't met other dragons ever since maturing so he had no idea if perhaps he was being silly or if her pheromones were tricking him into falling for her, but whatever the case he couldn't get her golden scales or beautiful mane or piercing eyes out of his mind even as the day came to a close.

Having enjoyed a fulfilling night in Ilyniel's tent with her handlers, Hyranyr was happy to learn that another tent had been erected nearby for him. Like Ilyniel, he had his quarters nestled atop the cliffs overlooking the pass, just off the established winding path that led to the campground below. His tent wasn't as nice as hers, but he was still given four handlers of his own to help him with his needs, two male and two females. Having spent many of his most recent years not only taking care of himself, but waiting on Kylen's every need, this made him feel like royalty, which in turn made him feel terrible.

He knew he didn't deserve any of this. He hadn't done anything to earn this, he lacked the magic skills to impress anyone, and he had no idea if he'd even be good on the battlefield. His self-destructive inner monologue told him that he was not only unworthy of this attention, but that when they realized how useless he likely would be in a fight, they'd only resent him more.

Hyranyr couldn't run or change his mind, since he had apparently been sold to the military by that slimy old wizard he'd called his mentor. If he ran, he'd be court-marshaled and tried for treason. No. He had no other choice but to carve his own path, and above all, to follow through with the plans he had blabbered about all day, that of training into an elite soldier.

Even so, he couldn't pry his mind away from his infinite lacks. Had he the strength to overcome them? The willpower to withstand whatever was thrown at him?

If not for me, then for Ilyniel, Hyranyr thought, unwilling to go against his word after just giving it to her.

Eventually, Hyranyr managed to slip into his own slumber. His dreams quickly devolved into nightmares centered around his fears of inadequacy. He was under fire as an unseen force rained arrows upon him, unable to ignite his own flames in self-defense or run, for there were vines wrapped around his ankles.

In his dream, the warriors of both sides laughed at him for daring to be there, for failing to make an impact. The reptilians of his side called him mediocre, the opposing forces called him a joke and nothing more than a big, easy target. He remained in place overnight, with the sun setting and rising again for days upon days as more arrows pierced his scales. Even Tarenad paused only to laugh at him and remind him that he was a disgrace to his kind.

He was an easy target. A joke. Mediocre.

It wasn't until Ilyniel arrived on the scene and saved him that his dream took an upward turn. She used her magic to remove the vines that held him in place, then pulled every arrow out of him one at a time before using her restorative magics to seal every wound and restore his lost scales. Every touch of her talon to his haunches gave him a pervasive tingle that traveled up his spine to the base of his neck and down to the tip of his tail, eventually culminating in his groin.

Her compassion and meticulous attention do his every scale made him whimper in delight, a pleasure unfamiliar to him followed by the warmth of her body pressed to his. Though they were still on the battlefield, the only things that mattered were he and the dragoness Ilyniel as she healed him, pressing her body tight to his to intensify the speed and efficiency of her healing spell. She rolled him onto his back and crawled onto him, smiling down at him with her color-shifting eyes, grinding her hips to his as her warmth filled his loins.

Hyranyr grunted and pushed up into her, feeling that tingling warmth between his hind legs, grinding up against her until he felt a hot and wet splatter all over his belly. Instantly, he jerked in place and was yanked from his dream as he blinked and gasped, staring at the roof of the tent while laying on his back. He remembered where he was, and as he wiped the gummy mess from his eyes he glanced at his chest to see a creamy, milky white mess all over his belly connected by stringy bridges from the puddle at the end of his erect member; the closer he looked, the better he could see tiny gobs of it trickling down over the sides of his belly, threatening to soak the nest's fabric.

Panicked, he daintily rolled off to his side and cleaned himself the only way he knew how, by licking it up. However, he instantly regretted this the second he felt the bitter, musky flavor of it on his tongue. As a result, he spat it out and hacked and coughed as he gagged, completely overwhelmed by it and the intense sensation he now endured in the back of his throat. His next step was to reach around and find a towel or cloth to clean it up, but as he was reaching out in the candle-lit quarters, his eyes fell upon one of his handlers, standing in place with a pot of hot water.

Hyranyr immediately froze in place, gulping nervously with his one talon reaching out to the pile of rags next to his bed and the slimy gobs of cum dribbling over his flank. He didn't even blink.

"Well, that's cute. Ilyniel will be more than pleased to hear that you think so highly of her." The handler joked before turning and walking away with her pot of hot water, leaving Hyranyr alone.

Was he speaking her name while he dreamt? How long was the handler standing there? What had he said or done that elicited such a mess? No matter the answers to those questions, Hyranyr felt like he'd been kicked in the groin, had his wings cut off, and his heart torn from his chest. He felt gutted in more ways than one, and that sort of dread ruined his night.

He did clean himself off, by shamefully using a series of rags to shine his belly scales, even going so far as to ask the handler for the pot of hot water to ensure that he could properly clean himself. The handler was happy to help, but wouldn't stop giggling and snorting at him the whole time.

Eventually, he did lay back down to bed, having kept himself from making a mess of the well-kept nest given to him. He was able to sleep, but not before accepting that he had just endured his single most embarrassing moment in his life.

Not a great start to his time in the military.

The next morning, Hyranyr woke to hear a bit of clamor down in the campground, where the other members of the regiment had already begun their day. This was a stark and blunt reminder that he would now have to operate on military time, as the soldier's day began at sun up and tended to end soon after sun down.

Upon emerging from his tent, he immediately saw Ilyniel's handlers cover their faces to look away, silently laughing at him. Though the shame and self-doubt ran deep within him, he tried his best to not let it bother him too fully as he went about his morning routine. He trotted his way down to the camp and over to where breakfast was being served, suffering through casual chuckles at his expense every step of the way. When he went to go eat, he noticed that even the cook serving up the meat casserole that was that day's meal couldn't help but get a laugh at Hyranyr's expense.

He wanted to ask, to confirm or to deny his worries, but thought better of it. In his mind, only the single handler that had seen him knew about his fantasies, and as philosophers liked to put it, ignorance was bliss.

Problem was, he quickly came to realize with utter certainty that his hopes of minimal shame were misguided. He had his fears confirmed when a reptilian solder pointed to him and said to his companions, "That's a dragon with big dreams right there! Certainly the best dreamer among us!"

Suddenly, ditching the military camp didn't seem like such a bad idea, treason charges and all.

Of course, he knew he couldn't do that. Not only would it mean he was an enemy of his nation, hunted down by dragons with far more skill at killing than he had at hiding, but how would he ever prove his worth if he was too busy running from every little issue that cropped up in his life?

No, Hyranyr had to stay. He had to force himself to deal with his shame and overcome it, for he knew that he would be a greater drake for having overcome his demons than if he had no demons at all.

His mantra was a thinly veiled coping mechanism and he knew it, but he still tried his best to embrace it as best he could, smiling wide and standing tall every time he heard the title of 'dreamer' or he saw someone casually chuckling and pointing at him. This kept up until he was instructed to go see the blacksmith, who had prepared him his black-dyed chain mail and full-bodied armor plating. Even he couldn't help but get a jab at Hyranyr, asking if it was 'everything he dreamed it would be', following up that query by reminding the dragon that if he ever made a mess in the armor, he could get it cleaned.

Hyranyr thanked him, asked for a few minor changes in the fitting around his wing base and chest, then decided to go and practice his fire breath rather than ask for instruction and one on one tutelage from Ilyniel in his magic practice. While there, in a clearing at the edge of the wood that surrounded the south half of the camp, he was accosted by Ilyniel herself, who was the only one not to casually point and laugh at him and make a sardonic comment about him being a 'dreamer'. She didn't directly approach him, but instead held back at the edge of the clearing to watch with a sincere smile.

He kept at his work, focusing on spitting balls of fire instead of wasting it all at once in a steady stream. The great thing about dragon fire is that it came from two ducts on either side of his maw, squirting forth a thick gel that, when ignited by any means, coated its target and stayed burning until it was out of fuel regardless of whether it was doused in water or blanketed. His goal, and the purpose for his training was to see if he could spit and ignite the fluid all at once in quick succession; If he could master this technique, his flame bladder would have far more longevity.

Every time he spat at the rock that was his target, he glanced over to see Ilyniel watching him from various positions including one where she was laying on her belly with her chin on her wrists.

"Good morning." He said in a far more aggressive tone than he'd intended. "That's a dreamy look you wear, sun scales."

She got to all fours and smiled at him, her entire body moving in sultry undulations as she stepped up to him. "You would know all about dreams, yes?" she asked, her bright emerald eyes piercing into his.

Hyranyr returned back to his training, trying not to focus on her too much. "You're not the first female I fantasize over, and certainly not the last."

"Yet I still left quite the impression, right?" She asked, feigning ignorance.

"Apparently." He hung his head and rolled his eyes, not sure if this was her trying to be subtle in her teasing or if she was being sincere. Her body language told him she knew and was just drawing it out, but her words insisted otherwise.

She leaned in closer and stood up on her hind talons so that she was face height with Hyranyr, snout up and teeth bared in a broad smile. "You're young and genuine, Hyranyr, which is precisely what I like about you. A male such as you might agonize over this little incident, but I, a female who had already experienced the joys of mating, find it attractive. It is very flattering when another dragon worships me so. Don't ever be ashamed of what you like, especially when that is me." She winked, leaned in for a gentle peck on his cheek, then turned and disappeared from the clearing to let Hyranyr carry on with his fire spitting training.

After that, Hyranyr felt a swell of accomplishment, or pride when people called him 'dreamer'. It wasn't that he felt he had earned anything, but that the one person who mattered to him had endorsed his fantasies and that made him think that he had every right to dream. He didn't fully embrace the title, but he didn't let it get under his scales like he probably should have.

Days passed with him gradually accepting his role as the local brute dragon. Ilyniel was the mage, and Tarenad, for all his reclusive behaviour, made for a great strategist with equal balance of skill and magic. Once his armor was eventually finished and properly fitted, he came to slowly but gradually relate to the other soldiers and participate in combat drills, and quickly settled into the military life.

Above all of his other accomplishments, he managed a few enjoyable personal lessons with Ilyniel to teach him the fundamentals of other elements besides the fire he already knew. In addition, she even taught Hyranyr the faintest hint of physical magic, where he learned of what allowed her to fly without wings. He didn't immediately take to the skills, as he knew he wouldn't, but he did show some progress which was more than he could say about his time with Kylen.

That bandit of a wizard. That thief. That anthropomorphic lump of maggots in the shape of a human wrapped up in the black and blue robes that he was known for.

Of course, Hyranyr declaring this didn't make Ilyniel feel bad for him or share in his misery, but she instead declared that it proved she was even a better teacher than anyone else that had trained him. While he felt a pang of disappointment that she used this to boost her own ego, he was quick to realize that she was right and had every reason to be proud of herself for doing what no other could do.

At the end of that day, as they retired to their tents to sleep, their handlers came to give each of them some terribly bad news. Apparently, a scout had just returned with information regarding the village on the opposite side of the pass. As it turned out, the Arrenthen army had scaled the mountain and taken the saurossin village, which would prove to be a key strategic point in the highlands and a source of much meat and shelter. If they were able to keep this village, then they would have unfettered access to the pass and therefore gain a strategic hold on a key choke point.

Something had to be done, and that something involved sending three dragons and over two hundred soldiers through the pass to liberate that saurossin village.

Though wracked by nervousness and fear, Hyranyr woke the next day with a look of sheer determination in his eyes augmented by the cool chill of adrenaline fueling his false bravado. He'd only been training for a little over a week, still had only the most rudimentary of skills with magic, and knew that he wasn't prepared for combat, especially since the whole regiment would be looking to him during the upcoming battle for guidance.

He was a dragon, a very large dragon with immense speed and strength. He was as prepared as anyone could possibly be for battle, yet he knew nobody was ever truly ready for armed conflict. The one thing that Kylen had taught him that he felt was true was that no knight, no mage, and no dragon was ever truly ready for war. At the time, Hyranyr had cast his words aside as simple cowardice, as that seemed like Kylem's modus operandi, but on the verge of his first battle, he knew it to be true.

Sure, Hyranyr was in fact fearful, but he knew that he would be foolish to be fearless. Bravery came only when fear was overcome, so he had more to prove and an opportunity to impress.

Tarenad led the charge through the pass, a foot soldier ahead of the troops who marched behind him in groups of sixteen, each squad divided by four squares. Above him in the air, both Hyranyr and Ilyniel alternately flew in circles and hovered above the army, scouting ahead but never going too far from the protection of their people. All the while, Ilyniel guided Hyranyr with claw and tail signals, helping him to keep order since she knew he felt insecure about taking action on his own.

Immediately before leaving, the lord and colonel had devised a plan of attack, one that was doled out to the four lieutenants and the three dragons. Since the enemy forces had captured a nearby village and had basically taken the reptilian residents hostage, they had to be very careful, and very particular about who they attacked. The goal was to liberate the village, not raze it to the ground.

With each passing flap of his wings, Hyranyr grew increasingly anxious, knowing full well that this could be the last day he lived, or at least the last day he was healthy. Arrows, ballistas, fire, ice, and spears could all do damage if they hit him, so he needed to use his speed and agility to dodge. He lacked magic aside from his fire breath, which wasn't really magic, so he would have to use his body as a weapon. Simple enough.

Per the established plan, the moment the army breached the opposite entrance to the pass, all three dragons bounded ahead to scout and to launch the first attack, Hyranyr and Ilyniel in the air while Tarenad galloped down below. They could see that the village was surrounded by a series of massive open plateaus for farming as well as a web of pathways and trade routes heading to both the pass and down the mountain towards the tropical basin that made up the majority of the nation.

Though Hyranyr felt like his heart was ready to explode in his chest, he beat his wings and led the charge, barreling through the sky towards the outer edges of the village to attack the makeshift ballistas and turrets lined up around the outer walls of the village.

It appeared that the opposing army was ready, because each of those stations were manned and lancing massive spears and ballistic arrows into the air at both Hyranyr and Ilyniel. Upon seeing this, Hyranyr duck and wove, barrel-rolling in the sky before gliding over the wall, spewing a series of fireballs along each and every one of the ballistas. Some missed, but the flame from his gullet stuck to the wood and the stone to burn for what could be hours.

Happy with his first volley, he flipped and turned to make a second pass, this time preparing himself for an even better volley of attacks only to feel a half dozen intense impacts on his chest. Multiple ballista operators had aimed and hit him directly in the chest, one right after another! Luckily, they hit his armor and punctured the metal only enough to give him a series of superficial flesh wounds that he could shrug off. However, the distraction kept him from restraining his fire, resulting in a steady stream that ignited and blanketed the land from one end of the defenses to the other.

Next to him, Ilyniel could be seen flipping and doing an aerial dance as she caught each and every arrow shot at her in a ball of magical energy, turning them back at their source one after another. Tarenad was the last to the battle, as he quickly dove through their defensive barrier, attacking each and every enemy soldier one at a time, his lithe body deflecting many of the arrows lanced his way.

As he hovered, Hyranyr noticed that there were more arrows, ballistas, and spears being launched into the air at both he and Ilyniel, so he focused on them and went to fly by them, preparing to spew another series of flames at them to incapacitate their weapons. However, upon gliding over them and gaping his maw to loose a series of fireballs, he found next to nothing came out.

He had used all of his magic up on the rage-fueled stream of the wall closest the pass, so he had to improvise by diving down and ramming shoulder first into the nearest ballista. Hyranyr was in fact the largest and strongest of the dragons, so it made sense to use that and his agility to get into the heat of battle.

The very second he landed on his feet with dozens of panicked and aggressive soldiers on every side, he came to realize his mistake. Still, he had made a decision and he needed to make the best of it so he leapt headfirst into battle, dancing among the blades while focusing on destroying the enemy's heavy weaponry.

From that point forward, he barely remembered most of the battle aside from the flash of metal, the cracking of wood breaking, the wrenching of twisted metal, and the occasional crack of the enemy's skull in his jaw. He remembered that the most, as he could actually feel it in his head. The one other faint memory that he recalled was the persistent sensation of his haunches, side, wing base, and hind legs being stabbed at as his enemies used their spears and pole arms on him.

After only half an hour of Hyranyr diving and dancing his way through the village, taking out equine and avian soldiers along the way, he eventually collapsed just inside the village walls as he had worked himself to the point of fainting. The last thing he remembered seeing was Ilyniel hovering in the air above him, glancing down upon his collapsed, sore, bloodied body before his eyes dimmed and his mind dissipated.

There was nothing left of him. He had nothing to give. This was it.

Hours later, he was awoken by the regal sounding voice of a dragoness above him. "Hyr? Are you okay? Can you hear me? Please wake up." It said, followed by a series of light presses against his neck and shoulders accented by a light tingling sensation. It was Ilyniel trying to revive him.

His eyes fluttered open to see that the two of them were in a barn, alone, atop a pile of hay with the morning sun trickling through the slats in the wall to illuminate the dusty, humid air. "I-Ilyniel? Is that you?" He asked as he struggled to roll to the side, wincing as he felt the pain of a hundred stab wounds all over his body.

"Who else would pay attention to you?" She leaned into him and burrowed under his front leg to grab at the leather strap that held his armor on.

Hyranyr instinctively pushed her away, eager to get back out on the battlefield and prove himself. "N-no, I have to be there for my people, let me fi-" Before he could finish his protest, he fell to his other side on the pile of hay, another series of sharp pains lancing through his body.

Ilyniel tried to grab him but missed, ending up beside him on the ground. "The battle is over,. We won. The Arrenthen army is gone, retreated back down the mountains. You don't need to fight any more. We won." She stroked his cheek, then slowly took off his helmet to see that he had incurred a significant slash on his neck. She cradled the wound and focused her mind to use her healing magics, sealing up the gash and restoring the scales one by one, leaving a gentle tingling running under his skin.

The news should have been wonderful, but instead it made him feel like he failed his people, like he didn't have the guts or glory to prove himself to the world. Rather than feel a victor, he felt like he had been defeated completely.

She noticed this and cradled his cheeks to make him look at her. "We won because of you."

"What? How?" His words were partially slurred, as he was still waking up from his nap.

"Your unrestrained fire attack on their built-up defenses, as well as that little rampage along the weapons they had set up left them completely unable to defend themselves. You alone took out about half of their defenses, leaving much of the rest to myself and Tarenad. When the army showed up, they were picking the bones clean. Thanks to you, no soldier of hours has fallen." She kept stroking him, smiling into his eyes as her forepaws daintily removed his armor pieces one by one.

Hyranyr shook his body armor off and kicked it to the side, revealing all the crusted blood that had been dripping from his dozens of wounds, as well as the tiny craters where scales were missing that marked the point of entry for every ballista or spear. He felt terrible, like she was making this up, but mostly he felt like his body had been twisted and broken.

"I dragged you here during the battle, keeping you safe with the cows and feral horses, but they are all outside now." She continued, lightly pressing her clawtips to his every wound, a teal glow emanating from between them as she healed him one gash at a time. Slowly, she made her way down his flank towards his haunches, gingerly caressing his scales in between healing the wounds.

"Cows and horses...and I among them..."

"You've already done your part in the battle, Hyranyr. Don't be foolish."

Hyranyr wanted to thank her, or to say something, but instead was ashamed to realize that, like in his dream, she was getting awfully close to his groin and the tingling sensation of her healing touch was awakening something inside him. He felt like he was disrespecting her, or that he would soon do something he'd regret, so he awkwardly stepped away, cringing and wincing with his tail and wings down to cover his flank.

Ilyniel stepped forward to keep with him, forepaw stroking down his haunches to curl up under his tail, teasing at his genital slit as she leaned in close and started licking up the blood from his wounds. "Let me tend to you. As your healer, I insist." She continued to push into him until he flopped onto his side, exposing his lightly injured underbelly for her eager tongue to help clean him.

Hyranyr whimpered and lightly kicked at her in an attempt to push her away, uncomfortable with what she was doing since he knew that it would only end in shame and self-hatred, but she was insistent and being so remarkably gentle with him, something he didn't think possible.

Like his dream, she was slowly rolling him onto his back while licking and healing his wounds one by one. In fact, it was so much like his dream that he was certain he was still knocked out somewhere onto the battlefield, with soldiers milling about. He was convinced of this until she crawled up on him and pressed her body to his, the warmth of her form mixing with the tingle of the healing spells to awaken him fully.

He wasn't dreaming, this was all real.

This became even more clear as she lowered her hips to his and started grinding against the emerging bulge coming from his genital slit. "It seems your strength returns." She whispered at him, voice like a purr as she rubbed her slit to his. "And since I am on it, I might just have to cure you of your wet dreams affliction too." Then, before he could react to her words, she angled her hips just right and pressed down flat, taking him inside her.

His eyes widened instantly as her hot flesh enveloped him, a sustained whine escaping his lips as he tried his best to not let himself get too excited. He'd never been with a female dragon before, so her intimate reward and the healing she offered was hitting all the right spots for him. In between his whimpering and gentle whining, he was able to squeak out a warning. "I-I can't stop myself..."

As he trailed off, she smiled and pressed herself down harder, wiggling her hips to touch her genital slit to his, growling lightly as he grew and expanded inside her. "Then don't," She crooned, licking at his chest and neck as she spoke.

Hyranyr heard what she said, but barely registered as the heat and tingling sensation of her curative spells made his entire lower region tense up followed by a pelvic contraction that shot a steaming hot jet of his essence deep within her. He grunted and whimpered as a second, third, and fourth jet erupted into her folds, so much of it filling her that it began to seep out and soak his belly.

This time it was Ilyniel's turn to be pleasantly surprised, as the shocking amount of seed that filled her was far beyond what she expected. Even though he'd finished, she kept herself pressed tight against him, holding his member within her slit to massage every last bit of his essence into her depths. "I take it I really am your first?" She asked with a grin.

He could only nod in between his uncontrolled whimpers.

"That makes me special, doesn't it?" She inquired, then laid down flat to his chest, smiling and growling as she kept idly grinding her hips against his softening member. "So, how was it? Was it everything you dreamed of?"

Hyranyr had no words to offer her, which told her exactly what she needed to know.