# Darkness Revived - Echoes of Yesterday

Author: Icurthus
Tags: Arguing, Blowjob, Death, Demon, Dragon, Fantasy, Gay, Human, M/M, Magic, Story Series, Violence (Not In Yiff), Vixen, Wolf

A year after their escape from the Cave of Wonders, the tale of Gahntuar and Merec continues. However the duo discover that it is not quite 'and they lived happily ever after', as the human society puts pressure on their friendship. Even the dragon, who thought that he doesn't care about what civil races thinks of him, feel the strain. However, a dark period from Gahntuar's past may return to haunt him .  
  
author's notes:  
This story expands a little on the world I've created, revealing a few significant historic events and explaining a little of the Mana Theory (Magic). However, it came out much longer than I had expected, so I broke it up into three sections which I will release one at a time over the next few weeks.  
  
Please be warned that this first part does start with a very graphic murder. If you don't want to read this, I've added bookmark tags as below around the section to let you skip it:  
  
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Also, the mention of the fire-oil being like urine is not a reference to the watersports kink. The idea is that the fire-oil glands does something very similar to kidneys, extracting nitrogen-rich salts (a main component in urine) from the bloodstream which is then used to make the fire-oil (nitrogen is an important component in explosives). A bit over-engineered I guess but I like it.  
  
And again, this story is open source, so feel free to use it in stories and art of your own.

"Mana (or Aether in its tangible form) is the form of energy which is used to fuel magical spells and enchantments. It is not native to the Epangelian Universe, but originate in another dimension known as Barathrum where there appears to be an endless supply thereof. It seeps through cracks in The Veil (the barrier between Epangelia and Barathrum). Though of various strengths, the vast majority of these locations were called 'Aetherecista' or Mana Wells in the common tongue, with the seven biggest ones where Mana actually condensed into Aether 'Aetherfontes' or Aether-Fountains. It was also discovered that the Mana wells and -fountains are connected with up to four neighboring wells by a thin band where the presence of Mana did not fade, though it did not produce Mana as at the wells themselves. These bands are called 'Aetheritera' or Laylines.

All forms of organic matter (alive or dead as is the case of fossils) appear to have a significant influence on Mana, either unconsciously attracting and/or absorbing it or molding it into a functional shape through conscious effort. Therefore, it dissipates quickly into seemingly nothing as it is absorbed into the environment, with only lusher life the only clue as to what happened to the Mana. For unmolded Mana seems to be beneficial to life, aiding in the healing process and often causing longevity. In fact, Aether was often widely sought after for medicinal and revitalizing purposes even during the Great Witchhunts at the end of the First Age.

However, it should be noted that not all creatures affect Mana in the same way: Elves for instance cannot bind Mana to themselves, while Humans are unable to attract it and dragons appear to be almost unable to mold it consciously (please refer to the Mana Spectrum for more details)."  
- Extract from "Introduction to Magic" often given to aspiring apprentices starting their tuition in magic at one of the towers of the Circle of Five.

###

Gently, Jenour touched his tongue to the rounded surface of the rock he had brought up from the nearby river last month. Satisfied that it still felt warm enough, he turned his attention to the next. The third, however, seemed to have cooled down too much to his liking, so he gently picked it up in his jaws. He was careful not to disturb any of the other rocks as he lifted it from the pile and placed it off to one side before resuming his duty. Stones were shifted to take the missing one's place, and three more stones had joined the first by the time he had checked each one. He gave the four eggs a quick check over to make sure they were still secure, before he proceeded.

Satisfied that he had gathered all the cool stones and that the eggs was still safe, he allowed fire-oil to pool on his tongue whilst keeping his mouth closed. It would not do to let the oil catch fire while it was still in his mouth. Then, still gently, he allowed his liquid fire to dribble over the stones, making sure not to put any force behind the spitting action whilst making also sure the fire didn't travel up into his mouth to ignite the oil he had gathered there. The oil caught the instant it left his partly open jaws and a waterfall of liquid flames drenched the small pile of stones.

This was a delicate process, and several dragons had been humiliated when they burnt themselves whilst firing nest-stones. Usually it was not serious; he himself had done that to himself during his first clutch. And though painful, such a burn to his gums and tongue would heal quickly. Yet, there were rumors of some dragons dying when the back-flash traveled up into their fire-glands. He didn't know how true that was under normal circumstances, for that usually only happened when the ducts themselves were damaged. Still, he wasn't planning on finding out.

Satisfied that there was enough fire covering the stones, he shut off the flow of fire and swallowed the remaining last drops of the  bitter, urine-like oil, before it could catch fire as well. He sat there, waiting patiently for the flames to die and thinking of his mate. It was Lainah's turn to be out hunting, and he was getting a little worried: She had been away a long time now. He hoped she was okay.

A few minutes after the flames had died down, he checked the temperature of each stone again. The heat had taken and with a satisfied smirk he started to place the newly fired nest-stones around the outside edges of the nest. Though the stones were wonderfully hot now, it was actually too hot for the eggs. Still, the heat will help keep the less hot stones closer to the eggs warmer for longer until they needed to be removed and these stones can retake their original place.

Having completed his nest duty for the time being, he licked at one of the eggs. An overwhelming sense of pride crashed over him and not for the first time since the eggs had been laid a month ago, he wondered again what the little hatchlings inside would be like. However, this wasn't his first clutch, and he knew that it would still be just over two months before the time came for them to hatch. Still, there was nothing wrong with day-dreaming...

A sudden noise from the main chamber of their den startled the bright green dragon. It was soft, and for a moment he even wondered if he had truly heard anything at all. Even what it was, he could not place.

"Lainah?" he called back. His mate was the better hunter between the two of them, but for some reason she had been away a really long time. He really hoped that everything was okay and that she just had trouble finding prey. "Is that you?"

No answer.

"Lainah?" he repeated, a little more annoyed this time. He loved his latest mate dearly and he had raised a previous clutch with her already. But sometimes, she could still act like a little whelp, playing pranks for the giggles. And right now he wasn't in the mood for silly tricks. With a sigh, he stood up to investigate, ready for anything the playful draine could come up with.

"Lainah!" he mock growled as he entered the main chamber. "You better not ..."

No-one was there.

Jenour snorted in surprise and glanced around the gloomy cavern for anything out of place that could have caused the noise, but nothing seemed amiss. He was about to turn around and re-assume his guarding duty over the nest when he thought he saw a movement within the deeper shadows of the cave.

"A-ha, Lainah!" he smirked and turned to face the dragon hiding in the shadows. "You are not going to ..."

But his words died on his tongue.

It was not Lainah.

The shadow moved and Jenour could make out the thicker horns and the larger crest on top of the stranger's head. This was a drake! Angrily, Jenour crouched into a defensive stance. With the eggs behind him, he really did not have the time to fight off a rival for his cave! And how dare this drake challenge him within his own lair? The proper ritual was to roar out the challenge from outside!

"Who are you?" Jenour growled without taking his eyes from the drake in the shadows. He flared his bright red frill in a display of dominance for good measure.

At the challenge, the unknown male stepped forward, revealing himself to be a bright red drake. He was covered in a maze of terrible scars, much more than what one would normally expect for capturing or defending a lair, and Jenour's blood ran cold as he realized that this dragon would be a formidable opponent. A vague warning clicked in the back of his mind, but he could not remember exactly what it was.

As the red drake stepped into a patch of light Jenour noticed that four parallel scars, from another drake's forepaw no doubt, ran down the right side of the intruder's snout to complete the image of a dangerous troublemaker. Jenour perked when he noticed that two of the scars ran through the stranger's eye, which was actually missing. The blind spot would be a powerful advantage if this came to fighting.

He hoped this was not going to end in fighting. He did not want to be licking wounds whilst tending the eggs. Yet, though the stranger had not said anything, Jenour could tell in his posture that the drake had not come to ask directions.

"I said: Who are you?" Jenour repeated, making a show in tensing his backlegs in preparation for a pounce. He flared his crest again, keeping it up this time to make it clear that he was not going to take the presence of the intruder lightly. "What do you want?"

Still nothing.

"If you do not come in peace, then leave now!" Jenour snapped, his nerves on edge. "You are not welcome here!"

The other male only snorted at that, as if amused. It was the first sound he had made and for a moment Jenour wondered if that was going to be the drake's only response. Then, just as Jenour started to growl threateningly again, the stranger spoke.

"Creature of derision; begotten through shame." The red male spoke dryly as he stepped closer to the owner of the lair, yet the tone of his voice dripped with condescension and malice. "Blood tainted by treason; accursed art thy name;"

If Jenour's blood was cold before, now it became ice. He suddenly knew who this was. He could clearly remember his sire warning him and his clutch-mates about this very dragon. But it was impossible, for he knew this dragon to be dead! It could not be ...

"Umbrunor?" Jenour whispered worriedly, the first hint of his confidence wavering. "You ... you cannot still be alive!"

The red dragon just snorted.

"Umbrunor was my sire!" he sneered, finally stopping his threatening advance. "I am Seghrien!"

Jenour did not relax his defensive stance. He assessed his opponent: strong and in his prime, maybe a decade or two younger than himself. Yet the scars he bore told of many battles against other dragons and knowing what he knew about this dragon's parentage, he must have won every single fight for this dragon will be fighting to the death. Except maybe the one where he had lost his right eye. That wound looked old, and the eye was undoubtedly blind, offering Jenour an important advantage. But then again, though his sire had taught him how to fight (and need be kill) another dragon, none of his previous fights had ever needed to come to that. He knew the same could not be said about this Seghrien before him.

For his part, Seghrien just looked down on him as if he was the stomach contents of an old deer carcass.

"I must admit, I am impressed!" Seghrien finally spoke up when it became apparent Jenour wasn't going to do anything but growl at him. "You can hide well; much better than your clutch-mates! But apparently not well enough, for I have still caught up to you!"

At the mention of his clutch-mates, Jenour's heart felt as if it stopped for a moment. It was true that he had not heard from his brother and sister for several decades now and after he had captured his own territory, he had not felt that same old need to seek them out anymore. But he still felt close to them and had always thought he would one day travel abroad to see how they were still doing. He just wanted to raise the current clutch ... and the next. But now ... Had this horrible excuse for a dragon already found his sister and his little brother? Fearfully, Jenour's eyes flicked back towards the incubation chamber, but he forced his attention back to the red drake in front of him. There was no proof that Seghrien knew about the clutch of defenseless eggs in the other chamber and he wasn't going to give him any hints to their existence, in case this fell apart on him.

"What do you want?" Jenour repeated.

"Isn't it obvious?" Seghrien asked, pretending to inspect a claw he was holding up to the filtered light. "I have come to finish what my sire has started."

Jenour's shifted slightly in his stance, but Seghrien immediately noticed. The back legs were secured a little more below the body to enable the green dragon to strike up and across the lay of the scales, rather than the easier and often more powerful downward strokes. Seghrien smirked. This would not be a display of strength ... this was a fight to the death. And the green drake knew it.

"I will not go down easily." Jenour growled, sounding a lot more confident than he actually felt. "I give you one last chance to leave peacefully; Don't follow your sire into the shadows!"

"I don't expect you to die easily!" Seghrien sneered, properly assuming his own battle stance. "Unlike your clutch-mates!"

The red dragon had obviously expected Jenour to come charging at him after such a heartless comment. And Jenour nearly had stepped into that trap. But he was by now well versed in the art of trash talk and a slight twitch in Seghrien's right cheek betrayed his own emotions on the subject.

"Well, it looks like one of them at least took your eye!" Jenour countered.

Seghrien unconsciously flinched at the mention of the humiliating event, and Jenour reacted immediately. Quick as a flash and without a warning roar, he struck at Seghrien, aiming for the soft scales below his jaw on the red dragon's blind side. However, Seghrien had expected any dragon he fought to attack him there and with a well practiced flick of his wing, he deflected Jenour's attack. A dragon's wingarm is actually strong and though not capable of absorbing a full hit, it can easily parry a strike sideways. Jenour stumbled and Seghrien followed through with another well practiced strike of his tail to the side of the green dragon's head, sending him crumbling to the floor.

Though a little dazed, Jenour was still of sound enough mind to continue and he quickly rolled out of the way as Seghrien pounced to pin him down, following through himself by kicking with a backleg at the red dragon's own. Seghrien crashed to the ground and both dragons used the lull in fighting to get to their feet and to reassess their strategies.

Jenour cursed himself for the obvious mistake: Seghrien knew full well that he was weaker on his right, so he had prepared for it, turning a disadvantage into a decoy! He had thrown away his best chance at ending this quickly by going for the obvious. If he was to survive this, he needed to fight smarter. But how could he ...

Seghrien struck suddenly, catching Jenour off guard this time and scoring a painful hit on the snout. The green dragon managed to backtrack as Seghrien struck again, this time avoiding a hit to the neck. Jenour countered and for the next minute or so the two drakes exchanged blows. As this was a fight to the death, they each focused their attacks at the other's face and neck, hardly giving much consideration for the traditional shoulders and chest. There was no time to think ahead, to plan some strategy to outmaneuver the other. Just act and react.

Yet, even though Jenour had never killed another dragon, he was slowly gaining the upper claw. And with that, came confidence and clarity of the situation. They may be fighting a different style than what came naturally to their species, but that doesn't mean that his experience fighting for his territory was wasted now. And indeed, Seghrien left himself open to some powerful, non-lethal strikes in a bit to have more power behind his lethal attacks.

As Seghrien landed after catching air on yet another pointless strike, Jenour crashed down on him with a powerful downward strike. Seghrien staggered and was unable to avoid another punch from Jenour. His one leg buckled and even as he collapsed, Jenour struck again, this time breaking a rib. Eventually he stood over his enemy, pinning the red dragon to the ground. He squirmed a little but Jenour held him fast and he could only twist to look up at the victorious green dragon.

"Yield!" Jenour snapped with a snarl. "You are defeated!"

Seghrien's struggling quieted down, and Jenour smirked to himself. It had been a tough fight, but he had won quite decisively. "Leave now, and never return."

"Fool!" Seghrien snarled. "One of us dies today!"

It was such a strange statement coming from a dragon as soundly defeated as Seghrien, that Jenour blinked for a moment at him in confusion. Then, to the green dragon's utter amazement, he felt Mana being molded. That ... was impossible! Dragons were brilliant at discovering and attracting Mana, but they lacked the mental dexterity to do anything with it consciously. But there was no question about it: Seghrien was capable of wielding magic!

Loath though he may have been to do anything like this, Jenour did not hesitate again and immediately bit down to sink his teeth into Seghrien's neck. But Seghrien's spell was a simple one he had used often when in a pinch. Before Jenour could deliver a fatal bite, a wall of rock solid ... air ... knocked him from the other dragon and threw him clean across the little space they were fighting in. A trickle of blood ran from Jenour's snout as he got up, and was horrified to see Seghrien had sat up on his haunches to free up his forepaws. Though Jenour wasn't close enough this time to feel the actual molding of Mana, he knew the red dragon was casting another spell as he rotated his paws around one another. Just as Jenour got to his feet, Seghrien released the spell in a thrusting motion with both his wings that came rather awkwardly to him. Still, an arc of white plasma spread from him and Jenour barely managed to duck beneath the deadly blade of magic before it took his head off, much like the tips of the stalagmites that crumbled to the ground where it did hit.

As soon as the blade slashed a groove into the opposite wall of the cave, Jenour was back onto his feet and rushed to ram his forehead into Seghrien's chest. A dragon's horns were not meant to be used as an offensive weapon, but Jenour's options were quickly running out. However, Seghrien managed to prepare another arc of plasma in time, which he sent flying at Jenour. This time it was aimed at a better height, making it difficult to avoid by ducking below it or jumping over it. Yet, though Jenour couldn't cast magic at will, it didn't mean he was completely inept. Instinctively, he molded Mana of his own into a shield which he got up just as the beam crashed into him. Sadly, as it was an instinctive reaction to a threat, Jenour's shield wasn't the best blocking technique. Though it took the brunt of the attack, a little energy still pierced his defenses and Jenour screamed as a section of the plasma blade sliced through the scales on his left shoulder to cut deep into his flesh.

Luckily, the wound was not dangerous and though it would make close quarter combat difficult, it didn't cripple his left side. Jenour looked up at Seghrien, whose calm and lofty composure had crumbled into an insane and almost euphoric sneer. Instantly, Jenour realized that though he may be the better fighter of the two, he stood no chance against any skilled Mana wielder in such confined spaces. He was confident that, if he was to be able to escape into the open sky, his flying ability would be enough to avoid anything this lunatic of a dragon could throw at him. Eventually his reserves of Mana would run out and then the tables would turn back in his favor.

However, escaping outside would mean ... abandoning his eggs. Again, he hesitated for a second, his gaze flicking once more back to the incubation chamber. Could he leave them in the same cave as this monster, undefended? No, he had to! Seghrien had come for him and he was sure the red drake would follow him outside! And there was no proof that Seghrien even knew of the nest with the precious eggs. So he made up his mind and decided to lead Seghrien outside.

Seghrien stopped preparing yet another blade of plasma when he saw Jenour make a break for the exit. He smirked when, as expected, the fleeing dragon didn't reach the entrance of the cavern. He had only ran three paces when there was a sudden flash of premolded Mana beneath his right backfoot.

It was a rather complicated spell for such a simple effect and it had cost Seghrien quite a bit of his Mana reserves to prepare. In fact, he had not expected to have any Mana left to use in any fight, but the green dragon had surprised him before he could set more such traps. He had wanted to set these rune-traps up beforehand, originally planning to push his victim onto one of them while they were fighting. Luckily for the red drake, he did not have the time to go through with his original plan for the green drake proved to be a brilliant fighter and it turned out that his life depended on his Mana reserves. Who would have thought that a Shameblood would be capable of fighting like that? Still, his cursed trap proved to have been useful after all.

As the triggerrune ignited, the "Bind-Flesh" curse activated and Jenour's foot became stuck to the stone. But, his momentum still carried him forward and as he fell to the floor, his back leg twisted in a way it was never meant to. Under the severe pressure of his own weight, both the tibia and fibula snapped.

%%BOOKMARK%%

Seghrien smirked delightedly as Jenour screamed in agony.  Slowly, as if savoring his victory, he strutted over to the fallen dragon as the green tried to scratch at the solid stone in a desperate attempt to get free. Then, Seghrien sat down to watch a bit as Jenour, in his desperation, focused hard on where his broken leg was stuck to the floor, hoping beyond hope that some deep instinct would kick in and he could cast a spell to help him out of this situation. But Seghrien wasn't worried, safe in the knowledge that it was impossible for the green to escape anymore. Molding Mana would be like folding a puddle of water in half for any other dragon. He should know, before he had received his talisman, he couldn't mold Mana at will either.

At the thought of his charm, he reached up to touch the small ring in his ear with a wingthumb. To his surprise, the stupid talisman was nearly drained, so he quickly refilled it from his own, rather surprisingly low reserves. He forgot how taxing those plasma arcs truly were, and how draining it was on his reserves to keep the talisman powered. The talisman was never meant to be used in actual magical combat. Still he definitely preferred conscious access to his Mana as opposed to the unreliable, instinctual abilities all other dragons had to be satisfied with.

He turned his attention back to the green dragon again, who had given up hoping to spark an instinctual spell that could help him and had resumed  biting at his own leg. The pathetic attempts were rather amusing, but Seghrien had to stop wasting time.

"And so it ends!" Seghrien said. The green looked up at him and for a moment the red savored the look of fear in the yellow eyes as the other dragon realized he was about to die.  
   
Seghrien pounced. Jenour tried to defend himself as best he could. But as he was unable to maneuver properly, it only took Seghrien moments to push the green over. Trapping one of the defeated dragon's forelegs beneath a backfoot, Seghrien bit down in a lightning quick movement. He aim for one of a dragon's most vulnerable point: The neck just behind the head.

Jenour managed to lock his horns protectively around this vulnerable area and Seghrien's bite glanced off uselessly. Seghrien snarled frustrated and hit at Jenour with a forepaw, scoring a hit across the ear before striking at the deadly area again. This time, Jenour was unable to protect himself. Seghrien tasted blood as his fangs slipped through the scales and pierced the flesh. The bite itself would not be lethal, as the thick scales there provided more than adequate protection, but that is not what made a bite there dangerous.

With a violent twist of his head, he snapped the green dragon's neck. Instantly, the green drake's struggles ceased and Seghrien spat the limp weight from his maw.

%%BOOKMARK%%

Jenour was dead.

"It is done!" he breathed a bit raggedly to the empty cavern. Now that the adrenalin was waring off, he suddenly realized he felt more tired than even the fight should have justified. He knew what it was: He had used too much Mana in too short a time-frame and it left him with a slight Manaburn.

"I have held your promise, father!" Seghrien declared again, a little more energetic this time despite the Manaburn. "Soon, you will be resurrected and will take your rightful place as the Lord-Dragon of Juinkarr!"

His victory felt a little hollow though, as he looked at the cooling corpse. He did have a particular distaste for the Shamebloods, born from a history between his sire and theirs. But even their deaths had been a waste. Every dragon dead was a possible servant of Juinkarr less, a set of wings and claws that could have worked to re-establish the glory of Juinkarr and the return of Barathrum.

But they were the offspring of Lunintur, and even though he could not understand why, their deaths had been ordered. It was something to do with a prophecy, but what exactly it said, he was not sure. Then again, his was not to question, but to obey his Master.

He turned to leave this now tomb of a lair, but then he hesitated. Something bothered him. Something at the back of the lair had distracted the green dragon the entire time. Judging by the lair, What's-his-name didn't strike Seghrien as a dragon that would be hoarding or would even care about maintaining a treasure, so what could have occupied him so? Curiously he walked back, passing into the chamber the green drake had emerged from.

Seghrien snorted in surprise as he discovered the carefully tended nest. Who in her right mind would actually breed with a Shameblood? The female who shared her body with What's-his-name obviously did not know the truth of his heritage. It would be best to be rid of these eggs.   
Snarling, Seghrien lifted a paw and placed it on top of the first egg. But to his own surprise, he found himself hesitating. Did he really need to smash these eggs? The prophecy demanded that he was only required to hunt the offspring of Lunintur for up to two generations down the line. Surely he could let these pathetic creatures go?

For a moment, he even considered saving the eggs from the Lumors, to carry them back to return to the service of Barathrum where they belonged. But then again, even if he was to carry them one by one in his crop, he doubted that they could survive the journey back. And even if they were able to survive, he did not know any draines to take care of them; his duties to the Master had kept him too busy for anything more than a casual mounting once in a while.

Better to end their miserable existence before they were even aware of it. Yet, even as he extended his forepaw again, he heard a swoosh of feathers as another unwelcome newcomer arrived in the incubation chamber.

"You again?" Seghrien sighed, not even turning to look at the annoying phoenix that had been following him for several decades now.

"Take not this fork that leads astray; Adrift from your destined way. Here, no glory there is to be found; But to damnation you will be bound." the phoenix spoke in its queer whistling voice, but the bright red and yellow eagle did not move to try and actually stop the dragon. It always seemed to just watch the dragon from afar, sometimes commenting and rarely interfering with what Seghrien did.

"Blood tainted by treason!" he snapped at the phoenix with a vicious snarl, however it was also directed a little at himself. "For Juinkarr to rise again, the blood of Lunintur must be destroyed." Though he actually felt woozy at the thought of what he was about to do, he had to steel his resolve. The more of Lunintur's offspring he removed from the world, the more his own blood-line would be cleansed of Lunintur's taint.

"Heed my warning this once, I beg of thee; Listen to what I foresee! For once done it's set in stone; A price must be paid, the debt you'll own!" the phoenix shrieked a little panicked, yet still it did not move to stop Seghrien.

"Blood tainted by treason!" he repeated and taking a last quivering breath, he leaned his weight down onto the first egg.

\*\*\*

It was good to be alive!

That was the conclusion of the drake as he glided on an early morning breeze that blew off from the mountains east towards the ocean. The air felt crisp against the reddish membranes of his wings, but he delighted in the sensation. It was strange how the air became colder the closer to the overhead sun a dragon might fly, a riddle he had never been able to figure out. Still, now it was not that much of a mystery, for it was early morning and the sun had barely separated from the far-off foothills of the great Catarrum Mountains. The sunlight still had that golden hue that gave the iridescent green of his almost black scales a rather Patina appearance instead of his usual color that had often been described as that of a starling's.

With a delightful whoop, he retracted first one wing to bank to the side, before pulling the other in as well to dive at a steep, break-neck speed towards the dense pine forest below him. He delighted in the rush of air around him as he sped down before, with a practiced accuracy, he snapped his wings open to break from his dive in an elegant bend. He couldn't help but laugh as he sped off towards the east, the treetops quivering in his wake.

As expected, the town of Corrumwhell suddenly appeared just beyond the edge of the forest, nestled in a bit of a bend of the small river. Delightedly, he noticed that there were already a few humans up and about, walking on the broader dirt roads between the simple wooden buildings. The mischievous playfulness that had been nibbling away at him the past few days finally broke and with a devious grin, he swooped even lower to a hight that would allow him to barely clear the ancient stone wall that surrounded most of the north-eastern sections of the town. Just as he passed the first of only two watch-towers still standing, he gave a loud gleeful roar which he held from the one end of the town to the other, before with powerful flaps of his wings he gained proper altitude once more. A quick glance around revealed that the streets were mostly clear again, except for a few stragglers that were caught so completely by surprise that they froze in place.

His smirk erupted into a proper laugh when he caught one of the remaining humans swing a fist at him. He banked into another turn, to follow the river back towards the mountains. He was going to get into trouble for that stunt, he knew. But that was something to worry about then.

Yes, it was good to be alive!

He did not follow the river very far before he reached his true destination: A small log cabin that was build upon a little rise above the river. With a lazy turn, he slowed and carefully descended to a clearing next to the little structure. Silently, he stalked up to the cabin, mindful to avoid the little fenced-off vegetable garden that stood next to the one wall and peered into the half-opened window. The interior was still dark and he could see no sign that who-ever lived there had risen yet.

Good! This is going to be fun!

He inhaled deeply, intending to unleash a powerful roar right next to where he knew the bedroom ...

"Don't you think it is a little early for games like that?" a voice suddenly caught him by surprise. The intended roar escaped the dragon in a high-pitched squeak that sounded like a cat in heat. Furious he whirled about, snarling at the human who was sitting on a roundish rock beneath a nearby pine tree. Somehow, he had completely failed to see him there.

"What are you doing up so early?" the dragon asked as he flared his crest unconsciously in a display of indignation, surprised that the human was not only up and about, but groomed and actually looked dressed for the road already. In recent times, he had taken to getting up later in the morning, when the sun was already warming the world, something that irked the dragon a little. Then again, it provided him the opportunity to wake him in the mornings, usually. However, the old pack and the bow and quiver he had in recent months taken to carrying when traveling abroad was missing, so he doubted that the human was leaving on yet another quest for someone from town.

The human had gotten rather apt with that bow. He was deadly accurate with the weapon, which was surprising considering he had not used the like since his sire had passed away years ago. However, his inexperience showed with the speed: taking forever to re-nock an arrow and making doubly sure of his shot before firing.

Then again, he hadn't received a job from anyone in weeks, not since the Ballista incident two months ago.

"And good morning to you too, Gahntuar!" the human smirked, his delight at having given his dragon friend a fright for a change bubbling over. Gahntuar licked awkwardly at his snout as the line he used regularly when he scared the human was used against him.

"Yeah-yeah;" he muttered, slinking over to the grinning human. "Good morning Merec."

"Beautiful morning," Merec continued, as if he was used to getting up with the sun when not on the road. "A bit chilly though, so I guess winter will soon be here?"

"Probably," Gahntuar replied as he sat down comfortably next to the human. "How did you know I was coming?" he asked, still a little indignant. It was fun playing pranks, but not that much when being on the receiving end. Still, he was always willing to deal them out, so he should accept them as well.

At this, Merec's calm demeanor finally broke and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I heard you when you passed over the town!" he smirked, but then suddenly became serious. "You should stop scaring the townspeople like that though."

"I didn't scare them!" Gahntuar proclaimed with exasperated innocence. Merec only raised a questioning eyebrow and the dragon continued. "I was just calling a good morning to them!"

"Like, you wanted to do for me just now?" Merec questioned. "You're not the town's rooster, you know?"

Gahntuar licked at his snout again.

"Fine;" he muttered. "But how long have I been around town now. Don't you think that, if I was going to do anything to them, I would have done so by now?"

"That may be," Merec agreed with a sigh. "But most of them don't want to risk having a powerful predator like you around. Talking to them didn't do much good and scaring the living daylights out of them every once in a while won't help earn their trust either. Remember, they have already hired dragon-slayers to get rid of you before you could turn on them."

"Well, there hadn't been another for months now!" Gahntuar snorted, but failed to hide the optimism in his voice. "Maybe they have stopped hiring them."

"I wouldn't count on it. They are still giving me strange glares whenever I'm in town." Merec replied a bit sourly. "And besides, after that gryphon caught me sabotaging the last one's Ballista, I don't think any of the town's people will trust me enough to share any details of another slayer that might be coming around."

Gahntuar snorted indignantly again. "I never killed any of the slayers they sent after me! Just, gave them a good scare. That should count for something, right?"

Merec remained silent, unable to really answer the dragon. Finally Gahntuar just grunted in annoyance. The human next to him might have a point, but he wasn't about to admit to that.

"Do they still avoid you?" he asked instead.

"I still live out here, don't I?" Merec replied, scratching at the dry pine needles that littered the ground with a twig.

"I'm sorry they kicked you out." Gahntuar said, nuzzling his human affectionately. "I know you'd prefer to remain close to your dame, seeing how fragile her health is now, after that sickness she had."

"It is not your fault." Merec replied with a little sad smile that didn't quite carry to his eyes. He did, however, return the affection eagerly with a rub at the fine scales below the dragon's jaw. Though his mother had survived the Coughing-Fever, her normal health and strength did not return. Therefore they had to sell what was left of the farm so that she could move into town to be closer to the healers. "At least it is not as bad as before; I'm getting new traveling jobs again."  
   
They were silent again for a short while, Gahntuar's contented purring the only sound to be heard.

"Anyway, what's gotten you in such a jovial mood again?" Merec suddenly asked, hoping to dispel the latest sour mood that had fallen over them. Though their relationship was sometimes a little strained, he enjoyed the dragon's company very much and preferred to keep it as such.

"What makes you think something is up?" Gahntuar asked with a grin as he pulled himself from Merec's caress, that playful glint suddenly back in his eyes.

"All this playfulness!" Merec replied with a rather rude snort. "I just know something has got your tail in a knot."

Gahntuar only smirked at the human. For a moment, Merec thought Gahntuar is going to force him to drag every detail from him, but then the dragon's own resolve to contain his excitement broke down. He leaned in, stealing a quick lick at Merec's cheek, before whispering conspiratorially.

"You forgot, didn't you!" he accused the human playfully. When Merec stared back at him blankly, he continued with a slight giggle to his voice. "It has been a full year now since we escaped the Cave of Wonders!"

"Has it been a year already?" Merec asked shocked, a slight hint of worry coloring his reply.

"Yeah. I thought we do that thing you Seleborians do and celebrate it!" Gahntuar continued, ignoring the worried expression on Merec's face.

"I also thought about it, but I didn't realize, it was so soon! I thought it was still a fortnight ..." Merec said worried and a little upset at himself.

"It is a pity you don't have your sire's territory anymore." Gahntuar continued undeterred. "I would have liked to return to that swimming hole in the river you showed me last year."

"You know we had to sell the farm." Merec argued, a little distracted. "It was the only way to pay people we owed money."

"I know you had no choice in the matter." Gahntuar dismissed the statement with a flick of his tail, before leaning in conspiratorially again. "Well, luckily I recently found this great place some distance to the east of here: It is a small precipice on top of a high cliff that drops directly into the sea. The only way up there is on the wing, so we will not be bothered. Which lead me to think we could go there for the day, do that feasting thing you do in the wild."

"A picnic?" Merec asked still too distracted to realize the dragon had offered to take him flying. Gahntuar shushed him however, still too excited with his idea to pick up on Merec's mood.

"Yeah, have a picnic and just enjoy the day." Gahntuar conceded. "Then we can watch the sun set, and see where things go from there." Gahntuar leaned in for another lick at Merec's cheek. "Who knows, maybe we can see if you can take my knot this time!"

"Sounds great." Merec replied a little distracted. Silently, he thanked the Great Protector that the town did not know the true depth of the relationship between the two males. Though interspecies relationships had only been decriminalized by the king of Thendor a few decades ago, in most human towns it was still a serious taboo. And, despite the fact that Gahntuar was highly sentient and very civil, a sexual relationship with a tetrapod will be downright bestial to the townsfolk. Add homosexuality to it and their relationship stood no chance at all of being viewed anything but blasphemous.

"What's wrong?" Gahntuar pulled him from his thoughts, sounding a little deflated. His crest was pulled tight against his head in what Merec had come to learn meant that the dragon was upset or worried. "I thought you would be falling over your own feet at the opportunity to go flying again?"

"I'm sorry I don't have the time today." Merec replied a little crestfallen himself. "I told you that I received another job again; I have some worked deer-hide package I must deliver to a customer in Tharral. Transport has even been arranged for me."

"Is that why you are up already?" Gahntuar asked, the slight growl to his voice failing to hide his disappointment. True, dragons did not celebrate anniversaries, but ever since he had thought of the idea of a picnic on that remote precipice he had been excitedly looking forward to it. And as he had kind of expected Merec to plan something, this revelation was particularly upsetting.

"Yes," Merec answered, reaching up to pet the sulking dragon. "I'm to board a ship tonight already, so I have to leave early if I am to reach Perston in time. I just wanted to let you know before I had to leave ... If I had realized the anniversary was today I'd have told them I can't make it so quickly."

"You're leaving the peninsula?" Gahntuar asked, the surprise making him forget his disappointment momentarily. "Your previous traveling jobs usually remained around these parts."

Merec nodded. "I made sure to be back within a fortnight specially for our anniversary;" he muttered "Or at least what I thought our anniversary was."

"How about a better idea?" Gahntuar suddenly asked with a chirp to his voice, his smirk returning with vengeance. "You, skip the boat-trip; we celebrate our first year properly ... and tomorrow I'll fly you to wherever you need to go?"

Merec burst out laughing at the dragon's proposal. Before he had met Gahntuar, he had always believed dragons were too proud to allow themselves to be ridden like a horse. Then again, once they were airborne, the dragon would always take complete charge of their journey so he assumed one could not really compare it to riding a horse in any case. Also, he had never met another dragon besides Gahntuar, so he could not really tell what normal dragons usually thought of the idea.

Gahntuar seemed content to follow him around on the traveling jobs, or quests the townspeople started hiring him for following his success with the Gorrontail Mushrooms. But ever since they returned from the Thirstlands, the dragon rarely offered to carry him, much to the human's annoyance. So there was only one real answer he could give to the dragon's proposal.

"How can I refuse an offer like that?" the human smirked, much to the dragon's delight.

\*\*\*

Trying to hide her irritation, Felicity of Terreniel took a deep swig of ale before setting the mug down on the rough wooden surface of the square table again. The interior of the pub was rather dim, seeing how it was built lower than the cobblestone surface of the road above and the pub manager refused to light the oil lamps before twilight. Yet her keen eyes could easily see her informant where he sat across from her. She scrunched up her face in distaste as she watched him down nearly two thirds of his second mug of ale in five messy gulps before he slammed the mug down hard enough for some of the remaining liquid to splash from the horn container.

"What exactly are you asking?" he snarled angrily at her. He was huge, towering easily a head and shoulders over her. And strong, no doubt about that! Yet, something about the conversation felt off to her. Especially now that her contact started to use his size to seem more threatening when the talks wasn't going the way he wanted it to.

True, she may have been smaller than most around this town, but that didn't change the fact that he was still massive! Yet, she did not allow herself to be intimidated. She was after all a talented Yellow Magus with almost fifteen years of questing experience. Though it may not be what some of the older magi from the Amber Tower could boast about, it still was nothing to scoff at. Indeed she had a couple of nice tricks up her sleeve she could use unnoticed if her informant didn't like the direction the conversation was heading and decided to become a problem.

"I was asking how sure you are that it is indeed Helegnel." she repeated, trying and failing to hide the exasperation in her voice.

"You doubt me?" he growled, leaning forward threateningly. Okay, maybe she was a little intimidated. But she had to stand her ground; her informant could just as easily be trying to swindle her. It would explain why he was trying to keep her on the defense by pretending to be insulted at a normal question; one he did not seem to appreciate.

"I have to." she replied calmly, doodling a little invisible design with a sharp claw on the tabletop, not pressing hard enough to actually score a line into the hard pale-brown wood. "You see, the Ivory Tower will not take it lightly if I return to them with a fake report.

"Especially, if it concerns Helegnel!" She added, her voice suddenly taking on a very serious note. She released the Mana she had been molding and the little rune she had drawn on the table started to shimmer. Not brightly so, just enough for the lion sitting across from her to see it. As expected, she saw him pull back a little in shock, staring bug-eyed at the tabletop where the rune had vanished just a moment before.

"What did you do?" he asked nervously. Felicity ignored him, though she forced back a smile when she thought she saw his face go pale even through the golden fur.

"You understand that there is no place I will be able to hide from the Circle of Five if I take this back to them and it turns out to be a fake." she continued as if he had not asked anything. "It will be worse for the one who sold me the false information to begin with, the Bloodstorm Treaty be damned."

"I asked, what did you do, vixen!" the lion snarled, panic starting to settle in. A few of the other patrons turned to look curiously at them, and Felicity cursed how easily the brute in front of her was spooked. Then again, he was a Leonae ... one of those species who had a cultural mistrust of magic with only a few rare individuals who pursued it actively.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself about." she replied with an innocent smile to calm him again. And she was talking the truth: The only thing her Manashape did was to leave a little line of light wherever her claw touched. She didn't even use a lot of Mana to fuel the spell, and the organic nature of the wooden table was very corrosive to the simple shape. So any trace of magic was already gone, broken down and absorbed into the wood and beyond the reach of even the strongest of magi. The only effect of her spell was to make the wood of the tabletop seem a little better kept.

And as for the rune? Well, she was no Black Magus! Not by any stretch of the imagination, even though any of the Yellow Magi worth their salt should have enough knowledge of Runery to be able to draw at least a few functional runes. But that one wasn't one she knew. It's only function was to look magical enough to scare any casual observer. Such as the lion across the table from her.

"So, Helegnel?" Felicity prompted.

"Well I ... I can only be so much sure, you know." the lion started to sputter as he eyed the spot where the unknown rune had been only moments before. He obviously tried to wriggle his way out of this conversation suddenly, much to the vixen's amusement. "I'm not that well versed with this kind of stuff ..."

"This is a serious issue!" Felicity growled, finding herself leaning forward threateningly despite being so much smaller than the lion. "You are aware what Helegnel is capable of?"

"Y-yeah," the lion leaned back trying to avoid the upset vixen. He should have expected a magus to be interesting in what he was trying to sell, but he had never thought said magus would be willing to use magic against him. "E-everyone knows of that sword. Helegnel was an infamous blade even before Yourson captured it at the battle on the Belthean River."

"The history of it's military prowess does not even start to tell the true danger that blade is capable of." Felicity snorted, irritated that someone would dare to use that cursed blade in a scam.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Felicity sighed to calm herself before she zapped the male she was now sure was a con artist in front of her. That would only get her in trouble and him off the hook. "They say that during the forging of the blade, the still beating hearts of both a human and a dragon was used to strengthen the charm placed on the blade." How true it was, was anyone's guess. But it is often held as fact, considering what that would imply.

"Which means?" the lion asked, obviously not really wanting to know anymore.

"Considering the two species are basically two of the three opposing points of the Mana Spectrum, whilst sharing the Evoceather Aspect of Mana ..." Felicity sighed when she caught the blank expression of the lion. For a moment she had forgotten that the lion doesn't know much of the theory of magic. "Let's just say it is one of the most powerful magical objects ever created."

"How ... powerful ... ?" the lion dared to ask, taking a careful sip of ale to hide his nerves. Drinking carefully had always been a serious tell of his when he gambled with his friends at cards.

"It's one of the Hallows responsible for the Shattering. Some even say it is the most important of the lot." Felicity muttered nonchalantly, also taking a sip of her quickly dwindling ale.

The lion choked on his.

"Now, do you understand the severity of the situation we find ourselves in?" the vixen asked, the seriousness back. "Now I ask again: How sure are you that the blade your cousin found in the Curndor Mountains is indeed Helegnel?"

"It ... it has a pale blue shine to the blade that can not possibly be natural..." The lion rambled of a description he had obviously practiced before. Felicity recognized it from Yourson's account of the battle where the tiger had bested the Orcish High-lord in single combat.

"And which semiprecious stone is inlaid into it's handle?" she interrupted the lion. It was a section that was missing from the original memoirs, but the Ivory Tower had their own description and understandings of the old Hallows.

"Um ... I ... I don't ..." the lion faltered, his mind trying to grasp for details that wasn't there, hoping not to be caught out in his lies. For a moment he leaned forward to press his elbow onto the tabletop as if in deep thought, but then remembered the unknown rune and pulled back sharply.

"Surely you must know, you said you have seen it, haven't you?" Felicity asked as she idly traced another rune on the tabletop. This time she didn't need to mold any Mana to make it shine, the lion's eyes popped at the action alone.

"T-Tiger-eye!" he snapped the first semiprecious stone that came to mind. "I ... I'm sure it is a tiger-eye. A large one!"

Felicity clicked her tongue, more for show than anything else. "Pity!" she sighed disappointed as she drained the last bit of ale from her mug. Though she was by now sure this was a scam, it was still somewhat disappointing to be proven right. She would have liked to be the one to retrieve that cursed blade for the Circle of Five before it could fall into the wrong paws. Still, playing with the larger cat had been kind of fun, but all good things must come to an end. Better end it herself than to have it ended for her.

"Wh-where are you going?" the lion asked when she stood up abruptly, sure that he had been caught trying to swindle her and already fearing any repercussions.

"I don't know what blade it is you have, but it is not the one I'm after." she replied a little over dramatically.

"What's going to happen now?" the lion asked, shrinking a little into his seat yet still avoiding touching the table itself.

"Nothing, I assume." Felicity replied as if confused. "This had only been a misunderstanding, right?"

"R-right." the lion agreed, quickly getting to his feet. He bumped the table in his haste and flinched as if expecting to be zapped. "I ... I'm sorry to have wasted your time." he muttered with a too audible sigh when nothing happened. He squeezed past her, making sure not to brush up against her and quickly made his escape up the stairs to disappear onto the street.

Felicity caught sight of the abandoned mug of ale, a quarter or so of the contents still left in it, and smirked. But her mirth quickly faded. If the lion had truly had some magic blade to sell, he would surely have tried to get her to at least look at it, right? But she doubted he had ever even seen anything of serious power. Steel and a tiger's-eye? Though it might look like petrified wood, it wasn't even of organic origin. True, it might be a small charm on it's own, but it still needed something organic for any spell to work properly.

Retrieving her purse, she threw down a couple of bronze marks onto the table as payment for the drinks and turned to leave. Most of the pub's patrons barely noticed her leave, yet a lioness trying to remain unnoticed in a dark corner caught her eye. Felicity knew her well: Adarah and her had been close friends when they arrived together at the Ivory Tower as raw initiates. And both found life amongst the White Magi terribly boring, diverting their training to one of the other towers at the earliest opportunity as trainees so often do. But the friends drifted apart when Felicity chose to complete her studies at the adventurous Amber Tower while Adarah preferred the more flashy Coral Tower.

The vixen pretended not to have noticed the Red Magus, as she headed to the stairs as well. Adarah was obviously also following up on the rumors of Helegnel resurfacing after almost five hundred years. Felicity smirked at the thought of the lion selling the fake blade to her, but then shook her head. She had probably scared him off too much to try anything again soon.

Turning her thoughts away from her once friend turned rival, Felicity ascended the stares, exchanging the dim interior for the bright sunshine outside. She couldn't help but enjoy a deep breath of the salty ocean air. Though she loved the Amber Tower, it was hidden deep within the Gherthon Mountains and she often found herself missing the ocean where she grew up. Even if this trip was a dud, visiting the ocean still made it worth while.

It was already late in the day so she might as well make the most of what was left of her time in the city. She could leave the ancient port of Tharral tomorrow, returning north to report back to the Amber Tower's Council of Elders. Though not as horrible as she had made it seem to the lion, it still was not something she was looking forward to. But that was another day's problem.

With a smirk, she turned to head down the steep incline, towards the Little Thendor section of the city. Towards the sea.

\*\*\*

The air was unusually cold and restless over the Curndor Mountains and he was not sure if it was his imagination but Seghrien could swear there was a mood of restless anticipation in the atmosphere. Like a pack of kuhiuns about to strike at their prey ... or a demon stirring. The last thought made him smirk but it was a forced action to deny the unease he felt brewing in his chest. A sudden gust of wind buffeted him and the red dragon had to work his wings extra hard to remain aloft and on course.

Not that he minded. After decades (almost a century and a half if his sire's hunts were included), his quest has at long last been completed! His sire will be resurrected and be appointed as Lord-Dragon of Juinkarr, head of all dragons. He felt as if nothing could oppress his soaring mood, the thought of the great Master included.

In a sharp contrast to his mood, the mountains beneath him looked dreary and lifeless. This dreary region was the only place where his annoying phoenix companion never dared follow him. The slate gray expanses of scattered boulders and screes of broken rock splinters were only interrupted in places by patches of permanent ice and snow that became more and more until the white glare of the stuff was all that could be seen on the higher slopes. There was no life to be found this high into the greatest mountain range on the continent, except for a few patches of yellow and gray lichen. He had once been told that they were living entities at least, not that it really mattered to him.

Without warning, the deep canyon he had been heading towards loomed in front of him and he had to backwing frantically to avoid entering the airspace around it without permission. He may consider himself the Master's favorite, but even that would not spare him from punishment if he dared interrupt the Master unannounced. He managed to halt himself in time, and with a quick dive to a nearby scree that dropped sharply into the dark abyss below him, he alighted on a blocky outcropping of basalt. With only one eye, he misjudged the distance slightly and landed hard on the jagged surface, scrambling a little to make sure he remained perched above the deep chasm.

As soon as he was sure of his footing, a sense of foreboding gripped him, finally succeeding in squashing the jovial excitement at having completed his quest from him with icy claws. He could still turn back ... but he shook the thought from himself as he flexed his wings after the long flight. Once he was settled, he turned to the dark, narrow canyon and without daring to think upon his actions, roared out his arrival in a long, drawn out howl. The sound of his call echoed ominously down the valley before it was lost.

Seghrien waited, but nothing seemed to happen. A small spark of relief flared up in him and he dared look around a bit. He had only been here three times before and unlike now, never by choice. The first time was shortly after he had learned to fly long distances, when his sire had presented him and his siblings to the Master. The other times he had been summoned, first when his father's duty fell upon him with the death of the elder drake at the claws of Ignehur, and the second when he had received his talisman to enable him to continue his quest after he had lost his eye.

There was not much to see though. The outcropping he sat upon was high up on the mountain side, yet the near vertical cliffs of what looked like a mountain that had split down the middle in front of him rose even higher, mindbogglingly so.Beyond what the Shadowspawn came to call 'The Gate', the near-black shadows seemed to pull him in and he felt a strong sense of vertigo, which was saying something for a creature with the ability to fly.

He quickly looked away and the unease lifted a bit. Rising high around him, the sharp snow covered peaks stood like sentinels, foreboding and impassible. Through a gap between the mountains he thought he could see the greener mountainsides of the Lower Curndors, where there was an abundance of life and where the majority of all dragons resided. If he squinted in another direction, he thought he could see the broken tower of Juinkarr itself, though he knew it was supposed to be much too distant even for dragon sight.

He felt a sudden desire to take to the wing again and escape the barren High Curndors, exchanging it for the greener pastures lower down. His announcement had not been answered and for a moment he wondered if he had executed it correctly. He snorted at the thought; It had to have been correct. He hoped it had been correct; He doubted that he would be able to summon enough courage to do it again.

Maybe ... maybe the Master did not have the time to see him right now? Yes, he assumed that had to be the case. He should not interrupt the Master at a time like this, he should come back on a later ...

There was a sudden rumble from the canyon in front of him, like the sound of an avalanche rushing down a mountain. The next moment the canyon belched forth a powerful gust of wind that threatened to blow the red drake from his perch.

Then, nothing.

Yet, though there was no other sound except the deafening rush of wind, in that gust a single command came to the dragon's mind. The one he had hoped and feared to hear:

\* COME \*

Seghrien gulped. For a moment, the far-off green slopes called to him. But the Master had commanded and he dared not disobey. He barely hesitated before unfurling his wings and leaping from the safety of the outcropping. As soon as he passed through the gaping entrance to the narrow canyon, the sun seemed to flee, taking its warmth and its light with it.

Seghrien sped forward, not daring to look anywhere other than at the narrow, twisting hall of natural stone in front of him. He dared not slow down for fear of seeming reluctant to obey, which he most definitely was, by the way. As if reading his mind, the command came to him again, though this time without the accompanying storm wind.

\* COME \*

He ignored the icy claws of fear as he sped forward, somehow expertly swerving into the many twists and turns the canyon made. Suddenly, he backwinged frantically to halt his speed in the middle of his run. He twisted to the side, grabbing hold of the edges of one of the many narrow, nondescript cracks in the near vertical walls. For a moment he fought to gain a foothold with his backlegs, his wings flapping frantically to steady himself before he managed to pull himself into the mountainside.  
   
If the canyon had been night, the inside of the mountain was death. It was so dark that he thought he had gone blind in his other eye as well. He had to judge his way forward by touching the sides of the tunnel with the little talons on the tips of his wings. Which he could do easily enough, even with his wings folded against his sides. The tunnel was narrow enough to just let him descend down into the mountainside. Like the mountain had swallowed him alive, the thought came to him. Not that he would truly know what that was like to be eaten alive, as he was usually the one to do the swallowing. But he suspected it was something like this ... only warmer.

The air was cold and damp, with a lingering smell of something dead long ago. It wasn't strong, yet Seghrien couldn't help but grumble irritably at the thought that he was dragging his belly scutes through whatever squished between his toes. With difficulty, he suppressed his feelings. He knew he was forced to slither along the narrow passage like a lizard to remind him of his place before the Master, and he better not complain about it. Divus Procellerus, the god of Barathrum itself, had deemed it should be so and one does not argue with a representative of the Great Creator!

The sides of the narrow tunnel suddenly fell away into the blackness and Seghrien stopped. The only place he knew of that widened like this was the inner sanctum. It would be large enough for him to stand up straight and to stretch his wings, yet out of enforced respect and duty, he remained crouched and crumpled in on himself as he were. He had come as ordered and now he had to wait in the dark for his Master to acknowledge him.

As if on cue to his thoughts, most likely on cue, an empty depression against the far wall ignited into flames, banishing the oppressive dark into jagged corners and adjacent tunnels. A second, a third and finally a fourth fire-pit behind him also burst into flames. A were-light might have been easier and more effective in casting light, but it didn't quite set the mood of power as well as naked flames did.

Seghrien clenched his eyes shut and caressed one fang with his tongue to distract himself, least he start to quiver before the Master.

"You bring news, I assume?" a voice whispered. It was deep, powerfully masculine and a little raspy. Yet, though the voice spoke in nothing but a whisper, the sound seemed to bounce around the cavern and the dragon's scull alike, the echoes making it impossible to tell from which direction the voice came from. For a moment, the dragon was glad that his Master was not talking aloud. He had once experienced the Master raising his voice at him, and it was not a fun experience. Of course, there were rumors among the Shadowspawn of the Master actually shouting at someone, but the dragon did not know of anyone who was still alive to tell of such a tale firsthand.

"I ... bring good news, Great Lord Quattuor." Seghrien spoke up, the common human language coming a little difficult to him. He dared to open his eye, though he continued to stare obediently at the spot on the ground directly in front of his snout. He had raised his voice to be heard amidst the remnants of echoes still bouncing around. Yet, though he was putting strength into his words, his voice still sounded soft and weak. "My father's oath to you has been kept. All the offspring of Lunintur for two generations past the traitor, are now dead."

"Is that so?" the voice asked and to Seghrien's horror it didn't sound pleased.

A movement off to his left caught his attention and despite himself, he turned to look. The creature there was mostly obscured by the flickering shadows cast by the firelight. Yet the dragon could still recognize the vaguely human shape, that is ignoring the dark red skin interlaced with a maze of black veins.  There was a shape of a horn and a wing that could not fold close against its back. And a massive dick that hung limply over a slightly too massive scrotum.

Seghrien flinched and snap his gaze away, closing his eye again for good measure. He had to take that thing fully engorged when he had assumed his sire's place as Claw of the Master. From both ends. For a week. The memory still sent shivers down his spine.

"I ... yes, my lord!" Seghrien stuttered, desperately going through the dragons he had hunted down and killed. Had he missed one? Maybe this was only a test to judge his resolve and commitment to the Master.

"Then tell me, why does the prophecy still hold true?" the voice asked, a hint stronger.

"M-my lord?" Seghrien gasped shocked.

"At least one of Lunintur's spawn, two generations past yet lives." There was a hint of anger in the demon's voice, yet the creature still reigned in the power of his voice.

Seghrien's mind raced as he frantically tried to think of any clutch that could have hidden a remaining dragon or one that might have gotten away from his notice. Then unbidden, a name occurred to him and his already cold fear became sharper still. Surely, his Master did not mean him!

"But my lord, I am the last ..." Seghrien whimpered. His devotion to Barathrum was strong, but this? "Sure you don't mean that I ..."

"If Barathrum is to return to this world, I must have unchallenged access to the Aether-Fountain at the heart of Juinkarr!" The demon raised his voice as he spoke and Seghrien had to struggle against the concussive force of the sound. "I cannot have that as long as the Circle of Five opposes me! Even less, if dragons start to join their ranks!"

"I will never betray you my lord." Seghrien squealed in true terror. "I am not the one the prophecy foretells of, I swear!"

"Then why does the prophecy still hold true!" the demon demanded.

"I ... I don't know." Seghrien whimpered, huddled into as small a ball as he could. He was now visibly quivering, sniffing back a trickle of blood that had started to run from one nostril. He was emotionally a broken mess and could not think anymore. "I am a loyal servant of Barathrum, I swear. I swear!"

The demon sighed, a little disgusted at the quivering heap of scales in front of him. True, he was no longer any mere human. Instead he was massive: He would have towered over the dragon even had the creature had the courage to stand up straight. On top of that he was immensely powerful, both magically and physically. No dragon other than old Guillivarth himself, will ever stand a chance against him in a one-on-one fight. The only real hope for this creature before him was to grovel.

"You did kill all of Lunintur's offspring, for two generations past?" the demon hissed, forcing himself to calm down for the dragon's sake or he would not get anything done with him.

"Y-yes," Seghrien whimpered, quickly picking up on the demon's calmer mood. " and all their offspring as well, where I could find them!"

"Did you maybe allow one to escape your notice?" the demon added. Often it helped to think aloud about a problem and skillfully he led the dragon to cross-examine himself.

"I am sure."  Seghrien admitted adamantly. "I made sure who hatched in each clutch ..."

"How sure are you that they are all dead?" the demon interrupted him.

"I personally watched the life drain from their eyes." Seghrien declared. "I even tracked down the Shamebloods, even though they are technically three generations after Lunintur. I ... I am certain ..."

"All of them?" the demon insisted.

"I ... " Seghrien started but then hesitated. There was one left he had not watch die. The runt of the Shamebloods. As if it had been waiting for that exact moment, the empty socket on the right side of his face throbbed in a phantom pain.

"Who is it you just thought about?" the demon demanded, almost eagerly.

"The ... the last hatched of the Shamebloods;" Seghrien admitted, a tinge of shame audible in his voice.

"The one that took your eye?" the demon asked, genuinely surprised. "Wasn't that what your talisman was for in the first place?" He had thought that specific dragon would have been the first to suffer the vengeance of a magic-wielding dragon.

"I spent years tracking him in my search for vengeance!" Seghrien admitted. "It was difficult to find him, but I finally manage to follow his trail, first south to the very edge of the Curndor Mountains. But before I could confront him, he fled once more to the west, far beyond the range any dragon had ever traveled since the Age of Legends. I followed him right into the Great Thirstlands themselves, but I lost him when he was ensnared by the Mindtrap there. I know he is dead by now, no dragon can survive starvation for more than a few months let alone a full year."

"And you don't think he could have escaped?" the demon asked, anger suddenly rising again.

"No one can ..."

"Did your own dame, three generations before you, not escape one herself?" the demon interrupted him with a very bestial snarl. He raised his voice a little again, making the cave seem to quiver.

"I ..." Seghrien quivered, but bit back the rest of any reply he might have thought of. There was no arguing that point.

"Return to the Thirstlands at once and confirm that he is dead!" the demon demanded, the authority in his voice like a punch against the dragon's ears. "Enter the Mindtrap if you have to!"

"M-my lord?" Seghrien quivered, the thought that this might actually be a way to have him die as well to ensure the prevention of the prophecy, crossing his mind. But had he not proven his loyalty? Yet, the Master had ordered and he must obey!

"I will ensure that the trap will not keep you ensnared!" the demon declared as he sensed his pet's trepidation, much to the dragon's relief. Just as he was bound to the Master's word, the demon was bound to his own.

"Y-yes my lord." Seghrien answered and bowed his head lower, scraping the tip of his snout against the damp cave floor.

Silence.

Even though the fires were still burning, Seghrien knew that he had been dismissed. He had a final job to do, and the Master would not be impressed if he delayed in seeing it done.

And of course, he was desperate to escape the inner sanctum.

As quickly as he could without seeing to be in a hurry, he twisted around on his belly still and crawled back into the dark cave. The journey out seemed longer despite the fact that he rushed up the slope, and as he saw real daylight again, his attempts to seem dignified disintegrated. He scrambled through the last section of the tunnel and did not hesitate to throw himself into the now seemingly wide canyon.

He dropped for more than a hundred meters before his wings were able to catch him. He sped off down the canyon, not daring to halt or to even look anywhere else but straight ahead until he could escape this accursed canyon.

The Gate appeared at long last and he burst from the darkness, back into the welcome embrace of the sun's light and warmth. He dove straight at the outcropping from where he had announced himself, almost overshooting it and crashing face first into the broken splinters that made up the scree on the mountainside. Once settled, he breathed heavily, both because of the exhaustion from his mad flight to safety, and because of the relief to taste open air once more.

Slowly, his nerves calmed and his breathing quieted. Still, he dared not look over his shoulder again at the Gate and the oppressive shadows beyond. Instead he cast his gaze off to the side, towards the west. He may feel safe here in the open now, but his Master's command still lingered on his mind.

\* GO \*

As the command came to him again, his right eye throbbed in pain. It had stopped truly hurting decades ago, but each time he thought of the runt, his eye would remind him of his greatest failure and the most humiliating moment of his life. He might have been torn about hunting down the offspring of Lunintur, but he did it out of duty towards Barathrum. That one on the other wing, he truly hated. Yet, every time the runt just seemed to slip somehow from his clutching jaws, as if Guillivarth himself watched over the shameful creature. Then it usually would take years to pick up his trail again.

Seghrien growled at the thought. He must have escaped the Cave of Wonders, it was the only possible explanation for the prophecy to still hold true. But ... the runt of the Shamebloods? Could the great lord of Juinkarr truly fear him of all the beings on Selebore?

\* GO \*

Seghrien snorted in distaste. It doesn't matter! His eye has not yet been avenged and the sooner he started to hunt the last surviving grandchild of Lunintur, the sooner he would be able to have it.

"GAHNTUAR!" the red drake bellowed across the mountains, as if the dark green drake that proved so difficult to kill could actually hear him. "Your the last, you know that? I am coming for you, Shameblood ... be ready for me!"

With that, he propelled himself from his perch with renewed vigor. Yet, he did not head directly west towards the Thirstlands, but diverted slightly south towards a well known Mana-well. It was the only one he knew of west of his current location, other than the great Aether-Fountain beneath Juinkarr itself, and he was not about to risk going there just yet. It would be wisest to be fully saturated with Mana before confronting the runt, and recuperating at the well would do the wounds his clutch-mate had given him wonders.

But then, no more delays and no more diversions. He would head straight towards the Thirstlands. Towards the last confrontation.

Towards destiny.

\*\*\*

It was the chirping of a robin in the nearby scrubs that woke Gahntuar initially, twittering a long, surprisingly jovial song for the late season as if completely ignorant of the half asleep dragon that lay nearby on his side. Then again, it probably knew it had nothing to fear from the large predator, not being its usual prey. Indeed the little brown, beige and orange bird would probably only be an explosion of taste on the dragon's tongue and then be gone. Gahntuar grumbled a little annoyed and continued to dose, ignoring the happy bird for the moment. The sun had yet to rise properly and there was still a sharp bite to the cold air. Unlike the bird, he wasn't quite in the mood yet to get up, especially with the vague memories of a rather lewd dream featuring him and Merec and a dear black draine he known from long ago.

Another robin answered the first and for a while the two sang a little duet in greeting of the new day. A lark soon joined them and with a grunt, Gahntuar cracked open and eye. It was already lighter then he expected, with most of the eastern horizon already a bright silver, casting enough light even for the human with him to be able to see without trouble. With a great yawn that curled his tongue in its intensity, he lifted his head to look around the little hollow in the cliffs where they had taken shelter for the night.

They were nearly past the infamous Shipwreck Coast, an 800 Km stretch of imposing Catarrum Mountain cliffs that dropped near vertically directly into the Storm Ocean. From where they were now, the mountains dropped into gentle foothills that stretched further east a little ways over the Gulmore Plains. From his vantage point, he could make out the little spec of light from what Merec had called a Lighthouse, which indicated the location of the old port near the big river there. Merec had mentioned that it was about halfway to his destination.

Which reminded him.

With a quick sniff at the air, he confirmed that they were still alone. Not that he really expected anyone here, for the terrain was considered uninhabitable for the civil two-leggers. Yet this was Vulpinae territory, and a hunting fox peasant that decided to make camp nearby was not impossible. They had camped easily within walking distance of the nearest settlement, but the journey would at least take a day on foot. Flying, they would pass over the city within the hour.

Satisfied that the coast was still clear, he yawned again and lifted a wing to rub at his eyes with a stubby wingthumb. In the process, he revealed the warm cocoon pressed firmly against the protective curve of his chest and stomach, tucked safely in between his four legs. Merec was still sound asleep, his head resting on the crook of Gahntuar's one foreleg. Gahntuar smiled as he watched his human companion sleep next to him, as good as dead to the world. It was no wonder they built those impressive structures to sleep in at night; anything could just come around and pick them up for dinner!

He shifted over his human, and flinched a little when he felt the sensitive flesh of his flagging penis rub up against the human's one leg. It really was a good dream, and Gahntuar thanked the great Father of Dragons that it hadn't been good enough for him to spill in his sleep. That would have been an awkward conversation indeed. It was probably their orientation that set things rolling in his deep mind, with Merec's back pressed up snuggly against his chest like an eager draine. Either way, with a abdominal contraction, Gahntuar pulled his flagging erection back into his slit, hoping the smaller creature beneath him would not notice anything.

He would like Merec to tend to him, but it was time to start packing up. The sooner they could join the high-winds the sooner they will be done with this journey.

He nudged the human's head with a snout, like rousing a hatchling. But Merec could be a stubborn creature when he wanted to. When a third less gentle nudge failed to work, the dragon turned to the tried and tested method of starting to lick him clean. That always worked, and by the second lick Merec was already grumbling a half formed complaint at Gahntuar. Gahntuar, on the other wing, didn't relent and like a dutiful parent, continued to clean a troublesome hatchling.

"Okay, okay!" Merec complained, giving the dragon's snout a soft slap in an attempt to get the eager tongue from his face. That also always worked and Gahntuar pulled back with an indignant snort, licking surprised at his snout.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead." Gahntuar rumbled, amused at how Merec's hair stood erect on one side of his head.

"Can't we wait till it is a little warmer?" Merec grumbled after casting a quick glance around the area.

"We could;" Gahntuar agreed, remembering his own reluctance to get up only minutes ago. Not that he would admit it to the human, of course. "But then we'll miss out on a great morning."

Putting action to word, Gahntuar stood up, pulling his one foreleg gently from beneath Merec who only grunted and pulled his blanket properly over himself again.

Gahntuar took the time to stretch his back and legs like only a graceful predator could, ending the display with yet another tongue-curling yawn. He turned around, and suppressed another indignant snarl when he noticed the bundle of blanket and human had not stirred.

"It amazes me how difficult it can be for you to rise in the morning." he grumbled clearly upset with his companion's laziness. "I don't understand it: It was not always the case!"

"Getting up with the sun loses its appeal after a while." Merec grumbled when Gahntuar nudged at his cocoon again. Irritated, Gahntuar nipped at the blanket, carefully grabbing it at a corner before yanking it from the human with a sharp twist of his head.

"Hey!" Merec complained indignant, staring up at Gahntuar who stood there with a wide smirk visible even past the blanket between his jaws.

"I said: Time to get up!" he stressed as he threw the blanket a distance away to join the small pile of belongings the human brought with him: The trusty old backpack he had with him since they had met in the Cave of Wonders, his bow and quiver, and a short sword Gahntuar was fairly sure Merec did not know how to even use. And of course the package they had to deliver: Two bundles of rolled up tanned leather.

Gahntuar snarled inwardly when he caught a glimpse of those packages. Thanks to his time with the elves, he understood the concept of trade and that those bundles now belonged to some lion leather-smith in Tharrall. And apparently, they were quite valuable as leather from the human province of Ferrenal were highly sought after. Still that didn't make them any less of a hassle to carry around with.

And why in the world did Merec of all people have to deliver them?

"Didn't you once say that you fly easier when the day is already hot?" Merec grumbled, but at least to the dragon's delight, he had gotten up.

"Yes," Gahntuar admitted, glaring once again at the bundles of leather "but we still have a long way to go. And the sooner we get there, the sooner we are rid of those things."

Still acting like a parent with a difficult hatchling, Gahntuar nudged a still sleepy Merec over towards his stuff as encouragement to start getting ready to leave. Grumbling to himself, Merec complied and started to pack up, leaving the dragon to stare out over the shore to the east, at the brilliant red of the rising sun. The dragon probably had a point in getting ready early. Red skies in the morning often suggested trouble with the weather ahead.

And there was no denying that his help was welcome, even though he had the habit of taking charge of their journey when out in the wilds! True, if he had set off as initially planned, he would still be sleeping aboard whatever clipper sail ship he was booked on. But it would have been a boring five days at sea. With Gahntuar's aid, he could be done with the job and back at Corrumwhell in the same time. Not to mention that the dragon's company was also very welcome.

Merec made quick work of his camp, not having to pack away a lot of things as he usually had to when camping alone. As he was packing up, he retrieved some rations to munch on, offering the dragon a piece as well even though it was nowhere near enough to satisfy any hunger. Gahntuar had become quite fond of the cooked and baked foodstuffs eaten by the civil biped species, but for now he politely refused the offer.

As he ate quietly, Merec considered putting on a fresh set of clothes for a moment, but decided against it. Rather save them for when he had to go into Tharrall itself. The clothes he currently wore was still fresh enough to wear for another day, thanks again to Gahntuar's help.

Though Gahntuar has accompanied him on many of his traveling jobs, he did not often carry him like this. Only when Gahntuar decided that there was a good enough reason for the necessary height or speed, was the dragon willing enough to be ridden. This resulted in this being but the fourth time he had allowed it, their flight from the Thirstlands included.

And while the dragon did offer to be ridden from time to time, he was usually rather upset when Merec suggested they fly together on the other hand. The human knew it wasn't because he was too heavy; the dragon could easily carry him and more as was evidenced by the large bundles of tanned deer hides that would soon be strapped onto the dragon's sides. But a dragon had his pride and no matter what Merec said, it was always an uncomfortable topic for Gahntuar.

But when they did fly together, it was always an amazing experience and that left Merec wishing Gahntuar would carry him more often. Not necessarily off on quests, but just around for fun; maybe fly up to a secluded spot like they did only two days ago.

"You should carry me more often on quests, you know?" Merec commented as he checked on the bundles of leather.

"Don't get used to the idea!" Gahntuar grumbled his usual reply without even looking around at him. They had gone through several versions of this discussion before.

"I'm serious." Merec countered finally voicing the thoughts that had been mulling around in his mind the past few weeks. "If the people in town got the idea you can be useful rather than a threat, they might stop their attempts to get rid of you."

"Oh? So, you are only keeping me around because I'm useful?" Gahntuar snorted, finally turning around to look at Merec with a smirk. It was meant as a joke, but it didn't carry over.

"You know I'm talking about the other people in town." Merec grumbled, much to Gahntuar's delight. "I was just thinking that once they stop fearing you, they will come to like you! Anyway, I'm not keeping you against your will close to me, am I?"

"No," Gahntuar admitted, his mirth gone. "But I'm not going to change how I act just to satisfy someone else. Accept me as I am, or leave it."

"Of course I accept you as you are!" Merec declared adamantly. "It is just that I think that, together we can be so much more!"

"More what?" Gahntuar hissed, not liking where the human's thoughts were drifting.

"Just more ... better!" Merec tried to explain but finding that it was rather difficult to get his thoughts into words. Eventually he just gave up. "Oh drop it."

"No, I will not drop it." Gahntuar snapped, finally turning around. "Like it or not, but I am a dragon. I like being wild and free, and not to be bound by stupid tethers to other people's ideals."

"It must be nice to be so free of responsibilities." Merec grumbled "Unlike me who have to live with those stupid tethers."

"Responsibilities?" Gahntuar growled dangerously. "You think I don't understand responsibilities? Maybe I should leave you here, then?"

It was an idle threat and the dragon knew it. The human had to do a lot worse to earn such a punishment. Still it even surprised Gahntuar that he had made it in the first place.

"What?" Merec gasped, wide-eyed. "You can't actually be thinking of leaving me here?"

"And why not?" Gahntuar continued stubbornly, even though a small voice in the back of his mind warned him not to push to hard. But he felt that the human needed to know that the dragon was doing him a favor and didn't owe it to him. "You just said I am free to go whenever I want to. You can easily reach that big river (the Arkriel I think you called it) from here and then make your way to that city there. There you can get a cart to carry you and your bundles the rest of the way. You don't NEED me here!"

Merec sighed, a little defeated. The dragon was right, but he didn't want the dragon to leave. And it had nothing to do with carrying the bundles he had to deliver to Tharrall.

"Yes, you are right." he muttered a little dejected. I can make it on my own from here, but I don't want to."

"Because it will be easier if I carried everything for you? Including you?" Gahntuar continued before he could catch himself.

"Yes, it will be easier;" Merec admitted, deciding to be completely open with the dragon. "But I prefer your company. I don't want to be alone."

Gahntuar rumbled delightedly at the admission, the sound bubbling up from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to Merec, leaning his head in close to the human.

"Even if I continue to argue with you?" he smirked.

"Even if you continue to argue with me." Merec replied in kind, returning the smirk. "You are a friend, not a pet!"

At that, Gahntuar just had to show his appreciation of the human's words with a heavy lick across his cheek. Gahntuar licked him a second time, paying special attention to the human's lips and with a third he tried to gain entry into his mouth.

Merec giggled at the attention, desperately trying to push the eager snout away from him and only succeeding once his tongue had brushed up against the dragon's own.

"Look, I am sorry." Merec apologized once Gahntuar allowed him to breathe again. "I guess it's just ... humans have a need to belong to something greater then themselves, and I tried to force you into it as well. I never meant to say that you are lesser for preferring to be on your own."

"I didn't mean it like that." Gahntuar sighed, worried that he might have taken the argument too far. "I also like being with you."

"As do I" Merec agreed, hugging the long neck. "Am I forgiven?"

"Sure, of course you are!" Gahntuar said a little too eagerly in his own opinion.

"We can walk the rest of the way if you like ..." Merec started to say, acutely aware that he had started to take the dragon's aid for granted. But Gahntuar cut him off.

"Or," he suggested with an eager smirk. "I could be persuaded to continue carrying you, you know."

"Meaning?" Merec asked worriedly, suspecting already what the dragon might be up to.

Gahntuar's smile broadened even more, and without another word, he flopped down onto one side where he had stood next to Merec. Slowly, as if to increase the anticipation of the moment, he raised his one hind leg to expose his stomach and ran the broad side of a claw carefully along the edge of his slit. Previously, Merec's eyes would have popped at the lewd display, but now he only raised one eyebrow in question. Still, the reaction was rather amusing to the dragon and with a chuckle he proceeded to slip his claw inside to gently pull a lip to one side, revealing the soft pink flesh inside and his cock tip poking out a little. His blood may have cooled significantly since waking up, but he was still riled by that dream and after their argument, Merec's intimate attention would be most welcome.

"Is that your answer for everything?" Merec asked in a voice that was meant to be scolding, crossing his arms in mock disapproval. Yet he couldn't help but let slip a chuckle at the display.

"It's a great tension breaker, wouldn't you agree?" Gahntuar purred, allowing more of his shaft to spill forth as he pulled his forepaw away to rest limply across his chest.

"And what happened to getting an early start?" Merec continued, still attempting to sound stern and still failing.

"I'd say, it is still early enough for a quicky!" Gahntuar smirked. "You are becoming quite skilled at packing up camp. It went a lot quicker than I expected!" An outright lie, but who cared at that moment?  
   
"And didn't you mount me only two days ago?" Merec still argued, though he had stepped closer to the dragon and knelt down beside him to lay a gentle hand on the presented member. He failed to fight back a smirk as the penis in his hands gave an excited jerk as soon as he touched it.

"P-perks of being in the middle of ... nowhere." Gahntuar stuttered after drawling out a shameless, needy whine as he toppled over.

"But ... so quickly ...?" Merec hesitated, though he did not remove his hand from his friend's penis. Gahntuar immediately picked up on the actual worry in the human's voice though.  
   
"Fun fact:" he announced, raising his head again to look intently at the human. "Did you know that a drake can cum up to seven times a day ... for more than a week straight? So you don't need to worry about me: I'm nowhere near drained yet!"

Merec snorted in surprise, making Gahntuar grin.

"It's true." he continued adamantly. "When we make eggs, a drake will mount a draine four or five time a day for a week or more." The dragon suddenly got a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes as he remembered his younger days. "I remember I managed to get to seven times a day during the peak of my first mate's heat." he admitted proudly.

"You have a family?" Merec asked surprised, suddenly a little awkward at fondling the dragons dick while chatting about his whelps. As if reading the human's mind, Gahntuar reached down to place his claw over Merec's hand, trapping it against himself.

"Yeah." he replied nonchalantly, as if it should have been obvious. "It's not that surprising ... I am a century and a half old you know;"

"Don't you miss them?" Merec asked, glancing down at where the dragon had trapped his hand.

"Mm!" Gahntuar hummed in affirmation as he started to massage himself through Merec's hand. "Sometimes, but dragon families usually drift apart over time. My own whelps had flown the nest decades ago to start their own lives, and I should have been busy raising my third clutch by now..."

Gahntuar's paw stopped moving, and Merec noticed a tone of longing enter the dragon's voice.

"Truth be told, I haven't seen my own clutch-mates for even longer than that. I've been meaning to go seek them out one of these days, but just never quite get around to it."

"You should take the time to go see them." Merec said, laying his other hand on the dragon's paw. For a moment he wondered if he had spoiled the mood between them, even though the dragon was still hard and throbbing eagerly. Again, as if reading his mind, Gahntuar shot him a stern look.

"You should stop chatting about the past;" he declared suddenly, releasing his hold on Merec's hand and rather placing it on the human's back, right between the shoulders. Then with a purr he added "Come and pay your fare for the day!"

Merec couldn't help but chuckle at the dragon as his head was pulled into the dragon's groin. Without hesitation, he pressed his nose against the dragon's shaft, inhaling the strong, earthy musk he had come to know and like so well.

Gahntuar seemed to melt with a delighted groan as Merec started to massage the beginnings of his knot with one hand. Merec inhaled a second time and with his other hand, he lifted the heavy spear of flesh for easier access.

Eagerly, he explored the by now well known landscape of little bumps and ridges along the length of the dragon's shaft as he teased his tongue down the slick surface and up to the flare behind the sharp glans again. The intense, slightly bitter taste of Gahntuar's slit-slime was delightful and Merec relished the flavor and he repeated his journey down and up the shaft again.

Gahntuar gasped below him and with a powerful twitch of his penis, he painted the scales of his stomach with a generous helping of pre. Merec smirked and though his hand continued to massage the quickly forming knot, he ceased his tongue's attention on the dragon's penis.

Gahntuar looked up at him in disappointment when his mouth left his groin, but the dragon perked up immediately again when he noticed Merec start to clean the mess he had made much like another dragon would; with his tongue. Licking the usually sweetish fluid directly from the dragon's belly-scutes added a rather dusty flavor to the pre, but Merec found it enjoyable and continued at it. However, a human tongue could not really do the same job as a dragon's would and he had to stop when most of the slick slime was lapped up, or risk rubbing his tongue raw.

Still, the strange act had driven the human's own desire up and without further teasing, he lifted the sharp glans to his lips and eagerly engulfed the head of the dragon's penis. Merec smirked as he felt the now expected forepaw of the dragon come to rest on top of his head as more and more of the shaft disappeared into the human's mouth.

Gahntuar was wont to do so whenever Merec sucked on his penis, an action which Merec did not mind. Though Gahntuar's paw never eased his grip on the back of the human's head, he never forced Merec's face down beyond what the human could take anymore. Instead of being a domineering action, he found it rather endearing.

Gahntuar gasped again and another squirt of sweet precum hit his tongue before the sharp tip started to pierce into Merec's throat. They had done this enough times over the past year for Merec to be able to swallow the head down a bit without gagging. But sadly, he was still unable to take much of the dragon and he had to manually rub and squeeze at the lower half of the dragon's shaft that could not find a place in the delightfully warm and wet mouth.

Still, it was enough for Gahntuar to grunt  and writhe in delight beneath Merec, his hips rolling in small, careful thrusts. He knew the human's throat was now practiced enough to be able to take these small movements and he delighted in the moment. A moment that was over too soon as Merec had to pull back to give his throat a rest.

Gahntuar didn't mind these pauses the human needed as they usually only lasted long enough for a quick swallow or to. Indeed, the dragon growled lustfully as Merec's lips descended down his spire again, the action simulating a powerful thrust from his part rather in a break in mating.

Gahntuar's penis jerked again and Merec felt another glob of pre travel down the length of it only to disappear untasted down his throat. Merec smirked to himself, realizing the dragon was close to the end. The hand that had been squeezing the now almost fully formed knot drift lower down the scaled groin, finding the dragon's anus which he teased with a quick flick of his thumb. Though the dragon probably expected it, he still gasped and gave a harder than usual thrust up into the human's throat. Merec had to pull off again for a quick, unobstructed swallow before he plunged back down in a quick movement.

Despite the months' worth of training, Gahntuar lost his battle with instinct as usual and thrusted up sharply as Merec head descended. Merec didn't object, however and only dutifully repeated the process. These movement were like the final moment of mating to the drake and the human knew that it won't be long now before the dragon blew his load. Indeed, he had only repeated the deep thrust a third time before he noticed the widely spayed haunches on either side of his face quiver and felt the fingers of the paw on his head tense. Immediately, he released Gahntuar's anus, rather grabbing the back of the rock hard knot with one hand and the part of the shaft just in front of the bulbous knot with the other. He squeezed both hands with all of his strength as his head descended one last time down into the dragon's groin.  
   
It was too much for the overstimulated drake and with a loud, feral roar that sent a flock of still snoozing mountain pigeons scattering, he came. Gahntuar's penis jerked wildly within Merec's mouth and the first shot of the almost searingly hot cum was forced in a powerful jet down the human's esophagus. Even as the warmth of the dragon's seed started to spread through the human's chest, Gahntuar's penis ejaculated a second powerful release of semen.

As soon as the third jet disappeared down his throat, Merec dared to pull a little away so that the glans popped from his throat to rest on his tongue. He knew from experience that the shots of cum that would follow would not choke him. Indeed, the dick twitched again and a thick glob of semen splattered against the back of the human's tongue, filling his mouth with the intense flavor of Gahntuar's seed. It was almost overwhelmingly strong and alkalescent in nature, and it took Merec several weeks to get used to when they had first met. But now, the human enjoyed the powerful taste and allowed it to pool in his mouth as the dragon gave a last weak squirt. Though weak, those last two spurts still overfilled the human's mouth and he had to swallow before too much oozed from his lips.

Gahntuar relaxed and seemed to collapse in on himself with a satisfied huff as his penis tapered off. It still leaked though and Merec eagerly sucked at the drooling head. Though he did not let up on his death grip on Gahntuar's knot, he released the shaft and firmly stroked the still twitching urethra, working as much cum from the dragon as he could.

"I like it when you are this hungry for my bounty." Gahntuar managed through his contented purring, as he finally released his hold on Merec's head. Satisfied that the dick wont be drooling any more semen onto the dragon's stomach, Merec finally spat the tip out.

"With your 'legendary' dragon stamina, I'm sure you do." he smirked between a last few licks. Satisfied that he was done, he stood up. "Will that cover my fare for the trip, captain?"

It took Gahntuar a confused second to realize what the human meant, but once the connection clicked in his mind, he burst out laughing.

"Yes," he chuckled. "That will do!"

   ... to be continued

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/XnrpgPez
Part of the series Tales from Selebore: War of Shadows
Previous: https://sofurry.com/s/rnaYPZnb
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