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In a dark cavern engulfed in hellfire a cage of smoke and ash stood witness to the cavern's sole occupant. A Dragon lay in its center in chains of Stygian steel. His eyes red as the blood he spilled oh so many years ago. His scales black as the night sky and his soul darker still. The prison and bonds seemed nigh on unbreakable. But this dragon was known for breaking unbreakable things. Though carefully watched by the guardians of Tartarus, the dragon had managed to whittle away at his bonds. He knew his breath, the weapon which made him what he was—was strong enough to tear the cage asunder.

It was time for his escape. He scratched at the steel encasing his wrist. His eyes gleaming with victory when he felt the manacle drop from his wrist. He started on the next manacle. His claws scraping away the metal as if it were only sea foam. That manacle gone, he grasped the manacle around his neck and with all of his considerable strength pulled the steel collar apart. As the shattered bonds clanked to the floor, the dragon cackled. Then he released a jet of flame from his maw, melting the Stygian steel right off his ankles. “No bonds may keep me!" the dragon growled triumphantly. He turned the jet of Flame on the ethereal bars of his otherworldly cage. And they dissolved like so much mist in a sea breeze.

The dragon finally free of the prison which had kept him for close to a century, let out a roar of victory. “now I shall have my ultimate revenge!" he roared, laughing maniacally. He flew out of the cavern and then, destroying the harpies who stood in his way, rose out of the depths of Tartarus and up the River Styx. Coming out of the realm of Hades and rejoining the mortal realm.

***

I awoke that morning well rested and ready to begin the day. But I was sore. Truly, I could barely move from the yellowing bruises which still covered my body. It was then that I felt two particular somethings poking into my back. Apparently, in the night we'd gone back to spooning. “Morning," Aurelion yawned. His maw opening and I was granted quite the display of his numerous, sharp teeth, when I shifted to look back at the dragon. I was reminded of the mainly carnivorous nature of the being in whose grasp I lay.

“Morning, Aurie," I replied, my morning voice scratchy from all the crying the night before, “Shall we attend our guests?" I asked lasciviously, nodding my head toward the dragon's very prominent erections.

The dragon chuckled, mirroring my lewdness. He shifted to allow me access to the beautifully ridged and elegantly curved twin lengths which sprung from his slit. I grasped them both. One held in each hand and began methodically stroking his hemipenes. I'd become accustomed to the practice of gay sex fairly quickly, having been subjected to the lusts of my essentially adolescent dragon. It was quite amusing to know that no matter what my Draconic lover was always ready to get down and dirty.

As my dragon's spires began to leak profusely, making my hands make lewd squelching noises which resounded around the room I heard Aurelion let out a very quiet, “close". Quickly grasping both penes together I shoved them in my mouth just in time to receive the reward for my ministrations: a nice hot load of dragon spunk. And boy was it hot. And copious, forcing me to swallow many, many times and still I wasn't able to keep up with the flow rate at which he spilled his seed and a lot dribbled out of the sides of my mouth and down my chin and onto the scutes of his tail. “Archie… so good." He groaned.

Once he'd finished spilling his seed, I pulled off his twins. Aurelion pulled me up into his strong arms. Squeezing me like a vice. “Don't break me in half, Aurie." I felt the need to say between grit teeth. Dragons were strong. Stronger, naturally than humans. After all in their bestial form they were the size of a small house. It only made sense that they're compressed, humanoid form would hold more strength than humans.

Once we'd cuddled for a while, we cleaned our bodies of the dried cum with some water and some soap wood leaves. Then dried off with some old towels provided to us by the Order. We donned our robes and exited our room into a storm of chaos. Senior members were dashing back and forth, many of them adorned in armor of masterful craftsmanship and donning sword belts and swords of a myriad of colors and just as many shapes. The species of the members was just as assorted ranging from dwarves and orcs to beastmen and elves.

Noticing the almost frightened and frantic expressions on many of their faces, I stopped one of the more readied Brothers, “Brother Donovan, what's going on?"

“Noctis has escaped Tartarus. The Black Death of Marmora has escaped his prison."

If you've never seen a dragon go ashen in the face, let me tell you it's quite the experience. The color and vibrancy drained out of each scale. “Noctis…my father has escaped? How?"

I looked back at my dragon. His normally ruby face a gaunt, ashen grayish red. “Your father?"

“Remember, I told you that we're raised by the order?"

I nodded.

“We're still told the names of our sires and dames. It's the way of the humans to identify themselves as the sons of their fathers. Which is why I told you my name in such form. Noctis was a dragon of the Order for many years. His rider an enterprising Mare named Raea. She and he were inseparable. They did everything together for many years.

“That is until one day during one of the skirmishes with Nexia. The two of them were led into a field of Dragon-nip. My father went mad with hunger, as dragons are wont to do when exposed to nip. He…He ate Raea. He ate his Rider. Which broke my father's sanity and he went mad with grief. In his rage he tore into the Nexian's line killing hundreds. The thing was he didn't discriminate. Noctis killed hundreds of Riders in that battle as well. So much blood did he shed, that his eyes became tainted. His eyes were as red as the blood he'd spilled.

“After the battle had finished and the Order was able to get him under control, He was chained with a metal only used on dragons who have committed the most heinous of acts. Stygian Steel. A steel whose composition is almost mythical. It's known to deny a dragon its strength, its fire breath and if left in these bindings, my father would slowly perish."

“That…that's awful." I said, clasping my dragon's shoulder. A feat, given his shoulder was at least a head above me.

Brother Donovan took this moment to inquire, “Aurelion, Son of Noctis, do we still have thy loyalty?"

The ruby dragon nodded his head, “Aye you have it. I am not my father. I will not turn from Arcturus." I hugged him, turning back to glare at Brother Donovan.

Brother Donovan only nodded his head, turned and ran down the hallway toward the senior members' dorms.

I followed the senior member with my gaze as he ran down the corridor. You want to fight, don't you, love? Aurie asked telepathically.

I nodded. As I was about to add vocally to my answer, A hand fell upon my shoulder, “You two aren't going anywhere. You two are with me all day. We're going over flying maneuvers with riders on your back." A rolling growl of a baritone said from behind me, I assumed belonging to the claw upon my shoulder.

“Yes, sir, Master Gryx, sir." I replied.

“Ja, natrylek, Hyr Mijster Gryx." I heard from Aurelion. Yes, of course, Sir Master Gryx.

“Jej tfy haven fyl të lyrnena. Önd jex vertar jux lyrena."

You two have much to learn. And I will teach you.

Gryx gripped my shoulder hard enough that I felt the tips of his claws upon my flesh through my robe. He led me and Aurelion through the corridors out to the Cliff. The Cliff was a cliff upon which the city's Rookery sat. It was used to teach the members of the Order how to fly with one another in the traditional format. On a rack which stood at the back of the clearing at the top of the Cliff, hung many leather saddles which all held the wear and tear of a well-used piece of equipment. “Welcome to Flight School! Aurelion Transform, Arcturus you must don these." He said. The elder, grizzled Dragon held a pair of worn leather chaps aloft, hanging them from his index finger, “They should fit you."