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Slender branches smacked the young man's face like little whips as he burst through a stand of young maples, flashes of crimson and gold on the peripheries of his vision as he continued to run headlong through the forest. Ordinarily he might have taken a little more caution, been a little more aware of the stings and stripes on his face and the bare parts of his arms, but on this particular autumn afternoon, the sting of branches swiping against his flesh were the least of his worries.

Not far behind him he could hear them coming. There had been five at first, before he abandoned the footpath for the forest; the racket he heard crashing through the trees behind him meant that all five of them were likely in hot pursuit. Sometimes he could hear their voices, sharp commands being yelled above the din of the forest chase. Sometimes he could hear the unmistakable sounds of metal on metal, swords clanking against scabbards or armored kneecaps. It was a sound that made a shiver run down his spine, and made him briefly grateful that all he was feeling was the sting of wayward branches on his skin, rather than a cold, sharp blade.

The man yelped as a stone, nearly the size of a barrel, seemed to appear out of nowhere right in front of him. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, and instead let out a soft yelp of surprise as he instinctively leapt, somehow clearing the obstacle. He landed a little heavily on the other side, thankful for the soft, mossy cover of the ground as he nearly went tumbling. He caught his breath, brushing stray locks of his dirty, auburn hair from his eyes and set off between a pair of towering oaks and into the thicker forest just beyond, ever mindful of the anger in the voices he heard behind him.

How much farther could it be?

To his surprise and dismay, the forest actually opened up just beyond the towering oaks, rapidly thinning out into a narrow clearing. A lazy stream meandered across the clearing, punctuated only with a few drooping willows bereft of many of their leaves. For a brief moment, he considered altering his course and running sidelong to follow the stream, staying just inside the forest, but that was the wrong direction. He had to cross. Steeling his resolve, he burst out into the clearing at a full sprint, his legs starting to ache with the burden being placed on them. He knew he couldn't afford to give them the rest they wanted, not yet, but prayed he was almost there.

The stream was shallow, probably shallow enough to walk right across, but at this time of year the water would be icy cold. The young man also knew he could not afford the risk of slipping on a slick stone, especially here in the open, so when he reached the fringe of wilting grasses that came right up to the stream's bank, he again leapt, praying that he could clear the narrow gap. A misstep here would be disastrous.

A soft whistling sound broke the air just as he landed on the far side of the stream, coming down a little more roughly than he would have liked. The shock made his knees buckle and then give way, and in a somewhat unplanned motion he tucked his body in and rolled forward. He stumbled briefly when getting back up, his legs again protesting from the fatigue, but again he ignored the burning and pulled himself back up, taking off toward the looming forest as fast as his body could take him. Another soft whistling sound cut through the air, and he wondered what the sound could be, till his eyes caught the sight of an arrow embedding into a nearby tree trunk, vibrating madly as it came to a halt, the bright red fletching wagging at him in a threatening manner. His eyes widened in fear as the realization hit him: his pursuers had bows and were not afraid to use them.

Then something more than mere realization hit him. A sensation not unlike being kicked by a horse smacked into his shoulder from behind, pushing him forward and causing his whole body to twist, the left shoulder moving out in front of him and the momentum carrying the rest of his body with. The sudden disorientation caught him off guard and caused him to trip over his own legs, falling head over heels and crashing violently on to his side. He yelped out in pain as the sensation in his shoulder suddenly blossomed into a searing, fiery pain, wracking his body even as he tumbled across the ground like a sack of potatoes that had been ejected from a moving cart.

As he finally came to a rough stop on the ground, drawing in a pained breath, his eyes went to his shoulder that was throbbing in intense pain. The bloodied head of an arrow stuck incongruously out the front of his shoulder, the shaft running all the way through to the back. The arrow had nearly snapped in half in the fall, jostling the arrow around inside of his shoulder and leaving a more gaping, ragged wound in its place, the back half of the missile barely clinging to the rest by a few splinters of wood. He pulled himself up in to a sitting position with a great amount of effort to ward off the pain, pressing his back against a tree trunk, when he suddenly became aware of his pursuers. Four of them were in the process of picking their way across the chilly stream, swords drawn and murderous gazes glaring in his direction. The fifth, still on the far side of the stream, had a bow drawn taut and pointed right in his direction.

Without thinking, the young man threw himself to one side, just as the tension in the bowstring let out a dull thumping twang into the air. That angry whistling sound again passed just by his ear, followed by the loud crunch of the arrow burrowing its way through loose bark and embedding itself into the tree behind him. His neck and shoulder were showered with crushed pieces of bark, but more than that, the realization that an arrow now stuck out of the tree where his throat had been seconds before made his heart all but stop.

The four assailants crossing the river shouted out their encouragement to one another as they reached the near bank, filthy grins on their face as they sought to close in on their now wounded prey. The young man summoned all the strength and willpower he could, pulling himself up against the tree and again bolting away from them, into the forest. He cried with each footfall as the jolt ran up his body and felt like it was shattering his left shoulder, the arm hanging limply beneath it. He couldn't resist the urge to grip at his upper arm with his right hand to keep it from moving too much, but the unnatural pose made his gait slow and unsteady. The men were not far behind.

Tears began to stream down his cheeks as he knew that his death was imminent. There was no way he could outrun the guards now. He stumbled through the trees, a stand of green ash that had already shed all of their leaves and left him feeling naked and exposed. The thicker forest ahead of him seemed so far away, the naked trees between him and safety looking more and more like withered skeletons seeking to welcome him into death's embrace. He could hear the men's shouts rapidly growing closer, and he half expected to feel the deadly kiss of an arrow on his back at any second. Inwardly, he prayed that the arrow would find his heart, knowing it would be a better fate than being hacked and run through by swords.

"Halt!"

The forceful command shouted not far behind him caught him off guard, and again he lost his footing. The young man threw his right arm out to catch his fall as he pitched forward but the left would not cooperate. All he could do was close his eyes and grimace in anticipation of the pain as he crashed headlong into the ground, his wounded shoulder taking most of the brunt and again exploding in searing hot pain. Brilliant flashes of light filled his vision as his head followed, smacking against the ground and nearly knocking him unconscious in spite of the soft, mossy undergrowth that cushioned his fall. Unthinking, he rolled himself onto his side, his good arm gripping at a somewhat slippery tree trunk he had fallen on, the young man dragging himself a few feet across the forest floor, feet kicking uselessly beneath him. They would have him now.

"You think you've escaped so easily?" The angry voice called out again, followed by the sound of a sword being sheathed. He could hear the creaking of a strained bow not far off, but the twang of the arrow being freed did not come. Much to his surprise, he heard nothing save for the muffled sound of the brook babbling not far away, and the quiet rustling of leaves for a moment. He pulled himself up into a sitting position again, leaning heavily against a tree, his chest heaving for breath and his body screaming with pain and exhaustion, but amazingly they did not come for him.

"You are a fool if you think this your salvation," the angry voice again called out, pausing to let them sink in. "You might have begged for lenience had you not ran, and merely faced your accusers. You can still turn yourself in, come back with us, and have your fair trial in the town."

Again there was a long pause of near silence, broken only by the sounds of the forest and the young man's own strained panting, white clouds forming up in front of his face with each breath into the chill October air. Still he didn't respond, and the angry voice continued. "Come with us and have your trial. After you are found guilty," he said, accompanied by a few gruff chuckles from the other men, "you will have a swift and merciful execution at the end of a hangman's noose. I can't promise you'll get the same merciful death out there."

The strained sound of a drawn bow relaxed, and he could hear more swords being sheathed. Curiously, the young man dared to peek back around the tree that he had hid behind. On the far side of the naked ash, he could see the archer lowering his bow, and nearer to him were the four other men. They had all sheathed their swords, irritated looks on their faces. They were not far away but had failed to pursue him any further.

"You can't hide out here forever," the man who was apparently the leader said, the anger in his voice not masked in the least. "Give yourself up now, while you still have some hope for mercy."

He watched with amazement, though, as the captain stood his ground, angry but unwilling to pursue. He wondered why, for a moment, when his eyes caught sight of it. A squat stone pillar, barely the height of a man, almost completely covered with green and brown moss so that it nearly vanished into the forest. Still, for all the moss and the wear of the ages, he could make out a small form perched atop the pillar, hewn from the same stone. Worn and battered as it was, he could still make out the shape of it, unmistakably a dragon.

His chest rose as he drew in a sharp breath. Had he really made it? He managed to sit up a little more straight, quivering at the difficulty. "No," he managed in a weak voice.

The captain took a step forward, his hand balled into a fist. "What?"

"No," he said, a little more forcefully. "I won't go with you."

The captain's fist balled more tightly, the leather of his glove beginning to creak with the effort. The archer behind him started to pull his bow up again, but just before the young man dove back for cover behind the tree, the captain motioned for the archer to stand down. "Very well," he said, his voice growing lower, laden with daggers. "Should you dare return to the village you will be given no quarter, afforded no trial. You will be made to confess your crimes before God, before your accusers and before your fellow citizens. Once you confess your wrongdoings, you will be hung for your crimes and your body cast out into the fields, to be consumed by the dogs and the pigs and the vultures. Your bones will litter the fields until they are ground to dust, a reminder to all others who would consider such crimes."

The man allowed for a dramatic pause before he continued. "You will not be hanged until you confess your crimes, but believe me, you will be willing to confess them, and more. You will be eager to confess to whatever sins we see fit to accuse you of, and you will do it gladly. Our interrogators are surprisingly effective, and before they are finished with you, you will be pleading for the chance to bear your sins to the world and feel the noose tighten around your neck. You will be begging for the mercy of death."

The young man swallowed down a heavy gulp of air as the other men laughed, a sinister and joyless sound. The captain then turned and began to walk away, the others following suit, before he paused to look back over his shoulder. "We are patient men and shall await your return and your confession. But keep this in mind, thief. Go any deeper into these woods, and the fate that you condemn yourself to will be worse. Unimaginably worse."

The captain smiled a grim and unforgiving smile in his direction as he turned and, without another look, trudged back into the forest in the other direction, his men following without the need of a command. The sounds of their slow retreat were absorbed into the forest rapidly, soon being lost beneath the soft murmur of the brook and the gentle rattle of leaves. The forlorn sounds of birds, those few that chose to stay into the autumn and even winter, began to drift across the afternoon air as the calm returned to the woods, but it did the young man's heart no good. He slid down the moss-slickened trunk till he was squatting at it's base, beginning to sob.

His shoulder ached, throbbed with each heartbeat, the blood still oozing down his arm. He could feel tears sliding down his cheeks and cutting through the grime that had formed on his cheeks. His chest heaved and caught as the sobs began to wrack his form. Perhaps he had indeed condemned himself to a fate worse than the one that waited for him back at the village, but either way, he was dead. The realization that his life was over hit him like a pile of bricks, and the weight of it forced him down to the ground, reduced to a sobbing whimper on the forest floor.

~~~~~~~

Without the threat of pursuit, the young man had been able to work more slowly, more deliberately. Once he had summoned the strength and courage to pull himself up and move forward anew, he had actually found the road rather quickly. So deep within the hills, the old road had long fallen in to disuse and had been all but hidden beneath the grasses and underbrush, and a few young birches and aspens and maples had even started to grow in the space that once had been cleared, but enough of the road remained that he could follow it through the woods without much difficulty. He had paused to tear strips of his clothing away and form a makeshift sling to hold his left arm mostly still and keep the wound in his shoulder from worsening, and it had luckily stopped bleeding. The pain still throbbed, though, and he knew there was every risk of infection. He would have to clean it soon or risk falling ill with fever.

Even though the sun had broken through the gray clouds above, it provided little heat against the oncoming winter. With parts of his stomach now exposed, the cloth having been sacrificed to form the sling, the cold felt only more biting and visceral. He had set out into the woods with no preparations, but there was no way for him to have foreseen the need to prepare before he had escaped the regiment dispatched by the local sheriff. If he had not had a hidden side entrance to his home, he would never have started to run to begin with.

In spite of the cold and discomfort, he had forgotten it all, at least briefly, when he first set eyes upon the ancient city. Just as the forgotten roadway had breached the edge of the forest, the old city loomed up in front of him. Two pillars, exactly like the one he'd seen earlier in the forest, capped with stone carvings of guardian dragons, stood on either side of the road. These pillars had been far more massive, however, and had once served as the gate to the city. The thick stone walls on either side of them stretched out into the distance, worn but still looking impenetrable. The massive wooden gate they held, however, had not weathered the passage of time well. Much of the wood had rotted completely away, and what was left still hanging on the hinges was overgrown with moss and falling apart even as he passed. The remains of massive timbers were scattered at the foot of the gate, and crumbled into dust as he stepped over them, but even in their decrepit state, he could imagine the once formidable gate protecting the city from any imaginable assault.

Just beyond the gate, the disused road opened up into a broad avenue that ran straight through the heart of the city. Massive hexagonal pavers had been set into the earth all along the avenue, now mostly obscured by moss and dirt and debris from the ages, but it was not difficult for him to imagine how it must have once looked, a nearly pure white roadway guiding visitors proudly through the center of the city. The avenue was flanked on either side by massive stone buildings, monuments of grandeur and power, even in their dilapidated state. Wide stone steps led up to broad porticos, held up by more of those enormous stone columns, the buildings opening up behind them in sizes he could never have imagined. Now decorated with nothing but moss and cracking with age, they must have once been proudly adorned with all manner of gaudy cloth and wooden shutters in the windows, bursting at the seams with shops and people purchasing all manner of things. The young man could hardly fathom the size of it all.

Interspersed among the aging stone structures were numerous wooden buildings, most in a state of severe disrepair. Roofs were collapsed, and sometimes the entire structure had fallen in among itself, a jumbled disarray of timbers and splinters. Among the ancient, rotting wood, nature had started to reclaim the city, moss and lichens flourishing, here and there grasses and small trees sprouting up in the exposed soil. Sometimes small creatures seemed to dart among the buildings, scattering from the winding passageways that split off the main avenue and darting among the vacant buildings. He paid them no heed.

In his state of awe, it seemed mere moments before he emerged into the city's great central plaza, although he had in fact been walking for some time. The plaza was immense; his entire town could no doubt have fit within it, with room to spare. A pair of massive stone dragons, intricately carved out of marble, perched atop heavy granite bases, guarding either side of the entryway to the plaza. Even in their state of disrepair, with broken wings and claws gone missing due to the passage of time, the creatures looked alert and dangerous, ready to defend the plaza from intruders. Off in the distance he could see where wide avenues split off to the east and the west, flanked by guardian statues as well.

The plaza was perfectly square. The hexagonal pavers from the three roadways continued inward and converged in the center, with the four broad corners of the plaza having been left open. At some point in the past, they had probably boasted manicured gardens and hedges, but the flora had gone wild over time, and each corner was now home to small and thick forests of their own. The remains of wooden benches flanked the wooded areas, nothing left of them but rusting, skeletal frames.

An inner ring of hedges had also become wild and overgrown, but they too at one point would have been well tended and beautiful, probably beset with beautiful blooming flowers. Within the inner ring of foliage, the broad stone avenues climbed a series of seven steps, leading up to a broad, elevated platform that dominated the center of the plaza. As the young man made his way up those steps, jaw slack at the workmanship, he gazed upon the remains of a magnificent fountain at its center. Time had worn at the fountain. It had dried out and cracked, the inside filled with more moss and rotted debris. In the center had been what once must have been a magnificent sculpture, a massive array of granite blocks carved into various scenes, woodland creatures, a scene of people buying from the merchants, another of children playing. Their features had become dull and indistinct over time, but he could still appreciate what it must have once looked like. In the center was the most impressive part of all, a massive stone dragon, facing south, looking alert as its wings were held over the rest of the fountain in a gesture of protection. Even crumbling and covered in moss, it looked commanding.

Even that, however, was not what had really caught his attention.

Another broad stone walkway made its way north from the platform in the center of the plaza, but it did not connect to an avenue moving through the city. Rather, just beyond another pair of stone dragon guardians, it passed through a massive arched entryway into what was easily the largest building he had seen in his life. The single structure filled the entire northern expanse of the plaza, massive stone walls rising up in tiers toward the sky. The edge of each tier was adorned with stone platforms that looked out into the plaza, beset by well manicured trees and shrubs. Countless arched doorways slipped back from the balconies into the building behind it, the windows displaying flowing cloth curtains of numerous colors. Further up, the building itself began to narrow into a series of broad, tapering towers that rose high into the sky, studded with windows from which hung numerous banners, all the way to the tops. The pinnacle of each tower was itself crowned with slender spires, tipped in silvers and gold that glistened in the waning light of the afternoon.

For a brief moment he marveled at the beauty as a thought began to creep up into the back of his head. Just before he could really begin to wonder at why the massive building did not seem to be in the same state of disrepair as the rest of the city, another sensation filled his mind : fear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood erect, suddenly, as he heard a scraping sound behind him. His mind screamed with the realization that the men must have followed him, after all. He wheeled around to face them and his fate, and what he saw nearly stopped his heart.

Standing next to the fountain was not the five men, but a dark creature. It held itself low to the ground, thickly muscled body slunk low as the creature had obviously been sneaking around the fountain - either that or preparing to strike. A slender tail whipped around behind the creature when it was spotted, and it rose up on its haunches a little to make itself look bigger. A set of almost ebony black wings shifted over its back as it took a slow, deliberate step in his direction, a massively clawed and dangerously looking foot scraping the stone in a sound that made him shiver. Sapphire blue and serpentine eyes regarded him, set over a snout that showed off rows of sharp, deadly looking teeth. Dark black scales covered the creature from head to foot. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found that frightening fate the captain had warned him of : a dragon.

His mind screamed at him to move, but his muscles were locked in place. He tried to tear his gaze away and turn, but he found that he could not budge, his eyes locked on to those of the monster as it stared him down. Again the creature took another slow step in his direction, talons clicking on the ground, those dark scales catching the fading sunlight and flashing an iridescent, indigo blue color beneath the dusky black. The dragon snorted at him, drawing its lips back in something of a sneer and showing of yet more of those frightening teeth.

The young man quivered in fear, but still he could not bring himself to move. A quiet whimper rose up in his chest but came out more like a gurgle through his throat, willing his muscles into action but still he was paralyzed. Still the dragon drew nearer, each step slow and deliberate, each step making the man's chest feel tighter as if his heart were trying to pop out. Again he whimpered, and felt a damp warmth starting to seep down the front of his pants.

Realizing what he'd done, he almost began crying, but even that proved impossible. A couple of heavy tears dragged down his face, but he otherwise had no control over his body.

Still the dragon stepped closer. Soon it was mere feet away, close enough that the man could make out each and every individual scale on the creatures body, could see the tight muscles just beneath the flesh. More than that, though, he was keenly aware of those deadly sharp talons, and he could see the glistening of moisture on those wicked teeth. He wanted to pass out, wanted to do something, but could not. He was as still as a statue as the creature stepped closer, leaned its head in and sniffed. He could feel the beast's breath on his side, a high-pitched whimper sounding from his chest as the dragon stepped around, sniffing past his side and toward his back.

It was only when the dragon broke that gaze that the young man suddenly felt like a weight on his chest was lifted, and he realized he could move. A part of his mind reminded himself that dragons were creatures of magic, or so the stories went, and undoubtedly had cast some kind of spell on him. The thought was quickly banished as his muscles suddenly went into action, and with a startled yell he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. The exhaustion and fatigue, the pain from his wounds suddenly exploded once again and protested but he paid them no heed. He didn't even look back, didn't pause to think, flying down the steps of the central platform as quickly as he could carry himself, running headlong toward the edge of the plaza and the buildings beyond. He didn't stop to question why the dragon didn't seem to be giving chase, for all he was aware of was how close he was coming to the edge of the plaza and, in his imagination, safety.

Without warning he tripped on some unseen obstacle and was pitched forward, crashing against the stone walkway with a grunt. He rolled lightly and wound up on his back, his muscles again protesting and this time prevailing, for they refused to allow him to pull himself back up. With a cry of pain he sat up lightly, looking back toward the dragon. Curiously, it still stood atop the platform, now several yards distant, just watching.

He looked to see what had tripped him, and his eyes went wide. The long shadows stretching from the fountain, cast by the waning sun, seemed to be coming to life. The fringe of the shadow writhed like a snake, slinking along the ground in his direction. Instinctively he kicked his feet in fear and tried to push himself along the ground but it was no use, for the snaking tendrils of shadow were upon him in an instant. With frightening speed and strength, they coiled around his feet and tugged, forcing him down to his back, where more shadows - the ones cast by his own body - lie in wait. His shadow betrayed him, slender snakes of darkness rising up off the ground, capturing his arm in and iron grip, snaking over his chest and pinning him down to the stone in a supine position. He thrashed about and tried to struggle, crying out in surprise, but the shadow held as fast as any chain.

No sooner was he held fast in place than he spied the dragon on the move once more. The creature leapt up from the raised platform, its wings unfolding behind it as it glided down, covering half the distance to him in one sweeping move. As it landed with a loud thud against the ground, its claws dug into the earth and it broke out into a run, closing the rest of the distance with frightening speed. The young man again struggled against the shadows as powerfully as he could, but it was useless. In an instant the dragon was upon him, and his breath caught in his chest.

The dragon stopped, kicking up a flurry of stone pebbles and chips as it did, pelting the young man's side. With its momentum, the creature rose up on its hind legs, brandishing its foretalons in a fatal sort of gesture, rearing its head back into the sky. The young man's eyes went wide as he watched, powerless, as the creature came back to all fours, whipping its head forward to just inches within his own. The dragon's jaw then opened wide, numerous pointed teeth spread wide just above his neck, when it suddenly roared out in a sound unlike anything the young man had heard. He responded by screaming helplessly, feeling the heat of the creatures breath wash over him, his own voice lost in the bellow. Flecks of hot spittle sprayed over his face as the roar continued, but then, before the killing bite could come, the young man's eyes suddenly rolled back into his head as fainted, finally taken by the blissful and merciful grasp of unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~

Jason awoke from his deep sleep only reluctantly. His back seemed to ache as he shifted his position a bit, but his head pounded even moreso. With a grunt he tried to pull himself into a seated position, opening his eyes a little, but the strain from doing so only made the ache in his head worse. With a soft cry he closed his eyes again and fell backward. He had been lying on the hard ground, but thankfully his head came to rest on a soft pillow.

"You're awake."

He didn't respond immediately to the voice, as he was too busy trying to control the pain. It must have still been night, as the air had a sharp chill to it, and a fire was going nearby. He could feel the warmth radiating, could smell the smoke on the air and hear the slight popping of the wood as it burned. In the distance, crickets chirped a quiet song, and he briefly thought it odd that crickets would be chirping at all at this time of the year. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not even half the night, yet."

He didn't immediately recognize the deep voice, but didn't seem too concerned for the moment. Jason just lie there, breathing in nice and deep, trying to calm himself, steel his nerves for another opportunity to speak. His eyes opened again, though in the darkness he could make out nothing except for the branches of a tree overhead, seeming to almost dance in the flickering golden light from the fire. "I had the strangest dream," he said quietly, still unwilling to rise.

"Oh?" There was a brief moment of silence, broken only by the song of the crickets and the popping of the fire. "What kind of dream?"

"They were chasing me, they wanted to kill me," Jason replied, closing his eyes and reaching up to rub at his temples lightly. "Chased me through the woods, even shot me with an arrow. I only got away after ... after ..." he paused and furrowed his brow.

"After what?"

He still couldn't place the deep voice, but he was more concerned with a niggling thought in his head. "They shot me," he said again, reaching to touch his left shoulder, still throbbing in pain. He hissed out a grunt at the pain when he touched himself, his fingers brushing up against a wooden shaft. An arrow shaft. Suddenly Jason tensed up, and bolted upright in spite of the pain, his eyes popping open, briefly blinded by the light from the fire, as he reached up to shade them a little.

Then he saw it. It was the dragon, again, curled up on the far side of the fire, staring at him with sapphire blue eyes. Jason's jaw gaped but he hardly moved. For the moment, the creature hardly seemed threatening, and, lying down as it was, seemed a lot smaller than he had remembered. Not counting the tail, in fact, it looked hardly bigger than a horse. Still, he was reminded of those frightening rows of teeth, his eyes widening. "I ... I ... I'm not dead ... it didn't eat me ..."

A sound curiously like a laugh issued from the creature's throat as it shifted its position again. "Eat you?" He suddenly realized that the unfamiliar deep voice belonged to the dragon itself. It could speak, after all. "You hardly look appetizing. Besides, you're spoiling as we speak."

Jason blinked in half fear and half confusion, before twisting to look at his shoulder. Even in the dim firelight he could tell that the wound was swelling and turning red. Infection was setting in. The mere thought of it made his heart race. "No, no, no ... I must still be dreaming."

"If you insist," the dragon replied, resting its head against its forelimbs and closing its eyes.

The young man could do little more than stare. "But you didn't kill me."

"Yet," it mumbled.

Jason's jaw went slack again before he swallowed down a breath. "Y - yet?"

The dragon opened an eye again and fixated it on him. "You trespassed on my property. Why shouldn't I?"

"Please," he said in a whimper, pushing himself back a little. "I couldn't help it. I was running away ... they were trying to kill me! I had no choice!"

"Why were they trying to kill you?"

Jason swallowed down a dry gulp. "As punishment for thievery ..."

"You're a thief?" The dragon regarded him with a harsh sort of gaze. "A thief and a trespasser? Why shouldn't I kill you then?"

"No!" He almost yelled, the effort making the pain in his shoulder throb again as he half-closed his eyes and gasped, getting his wits together again. "No. I was accused unfairly. I was set up." The way the dragon glared at him seemed to demand an explanation, so with a little nod he went on. "Winter is coming and ... and we had a poor growing season. Food is scarce. The townsmen implemented rations, but that's not really working either. People are growing hungrier by the day. The mayor ... the mayor has been stealing food from others to keep his own family well fed, and then setting up others. His men, they stole a chicken from my neighbors and accused me of doing it. Less people around, the less to feed, and all, so they've been executing anyone accused of stealing food. But I didn't steal the chicken, and I didn't want to die. So I ran."

A moment of silence passed, the dragon still regarding him with a harsh stare. "Why here? You had to have known what was out here, why didn't you try to run somewhere safer?"

"I was wrongly accused! I was set up!" Jason licked his lips a little as he tried to emphasize the point. "I ... the old stories, they say that the dragons, well, the dragons will offer their protection to those in need ..."

"What?"

The question was sharp and direct and made him cringe a little. "I came to beg for your protection."

The dragon rose up and leered at him, breathing out a low threatening growl. "What makes you think I would want to do something like that?"

Jason withdrew a little and whined. "The old stories say that ... that dragons protected people, that the ancient city ... the people were guarded by dragons."

At that the dragon made a sound like a quiet, annoyed roar, the force of it making Jason's hair ruffle around his ears. "Look around you, child. Do you see a city full of people protected by dragons?"

Briefly he wondered why the creature would refer to him as such, but he only shook his head. "No ... no I don't."

"Well there you go."

Jason just sat while the dragon withdrew a little, settling back down the way it had been before, closing its eyes. He swallowed another lump in his throat, gazing around in the darkness. He was vaguely aware that he was now up on one of the terraces of that great building, looking out over the massive plaza. It was a moonless night, though, and in the darkness he could not see the far side, but he could make out the dilapidated remains of the fountain in the center. "There used to be," he said, half to himself. "This place was once wondrous. What happened?"

After another moment of quietness, the dragon once more spoke up but didn't rise from where it was curled up. "Long ago this city was a small and simple village, much like the one you come from. They were a good people. Respected the land and took care of it, but they could not protect themselves against others. Their harvests were always bountiful, and others knew of this. They would raid the village, steal their stores, burn their homes. My people took pity on them, came down from our homes in the mountains and protected the village from their enemies."

The young man nodded quietly, but said nothing, so the dragon went on. "With our protection, they grew prosperous beyond their dreams. Before long their humble village was built up into a grand city, a nation unto itself. From hundreds they grew into thousands, from thousands they grew into hundreds of thousands. They revered us as their protectors, built great monuments to our honor. We loved them as our own children, protected them against enemies, blessed them as they flourished.

"Then came the day they built up a great wall around their city and a great army of their own. They came to outgrow our protection, or so they thought. In the space of hardly a generation, they began to see us as little more than a nuisance in their city. They began to forget what we had done for them, and stopped building monuments to our memory, stopped bringing us gifts. Soon, they had pushed us out of their city altogether. We were no longer welcome there, and forced out, forced again to live in the wilds."

Another long and quiet silence passed, but as there was no interruption, the dragon began speaking again, its voice somewhat sadder sounding. "We bore them no ill will, even though they drove us out. It wasn't enough for them, though. Another generation later and they began to see us as a threat, feared that we would raid their herds, destroy their crops, harm their children. They began to send out their army against us, came upon us in our sleep, came upon us in great numbers. The hunt and slaughter of my kin became a sport to them. But they were still our children, to us, and we could not fight back against them, and could only watch and weep as those we had once loved and protected turned on us ..."

Jason paused, his jaw slack again as he listened. "What happened to them? Did you finally fight back?"

The dragon breathed out an irritated sound and shook its head. "I told you, they were our children. All we could do is flee. We moved back up into the mountains, far from them, but they thirsted for our blood. They sent their men into the mountains to hunt us out and strike us down. Our numbers dwindled and still they thirsted for our blood.

"It was while they slaughtered us that their doom came. Their enemies, long defeated, banded together and attacked. Even with their great walls and their armies they could not defend themselves against such an attack. They begged for our forgiveness, begged for our help, but there were so few of us that even if we wanted we could not protect them against such an army as was amassed against them. They were slain to the last man.

"The sadness among my kind was so profound, that most of us simply left and never returned. Those who stayed exacted vengeance upon the raiders, cursed them with a foul disease that sickened their children, poisoned their waters, ruined their crops. They soon left. None have come back to this city," the dragon said, breathing a sound like a sigh. "The memory of the curse is long. You are the first man I have seen dare come here in generations."

Jason simply rubbed the side of his head, listening to the quiet chirping of the crickets for several long moments. He peeked over at the dragon, who seemed to be almost sleeping now, its eyes closed. The young man chewed on his bottom lip as he thought. "I ... I'm sorry to hear that," he said in a quiet voice, sitting up straight again. "But ... I'm not those people. I need your help, though ... I'm an innocent victim. Please."

The dragon opened its eyes again and shot him a withering look. "What interest would I have in such a thing?"

"I ... I can offer you my services!" He perked up a little at the thought, nodding his head. "I'll make it worth your while?"

"What do you do, child?" The dragon looked at him in a manner that he could only describe as skeptical. "What is your profession? What are you good at doing?"

Jason smiled, weakly. "I'm a farrier."

"A farrier?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you know ... I shoe horses, fix ..."

The dragon snorted in an irritated fashion, kicking the fire up a little. "Don't insult me, I know what a farrier is," the creature said in a gruff manner. "Do I look like I have need of the services of a farrier?"

Jason blinked again and shook his head. "I suppose not."

"Well? Then what services are you going to offer me?"

He thought about the question, staring into the fire. "I don't suppose you have any need of help with farming," he said, quietly, before speaking up. "I'm a pretty good hunter. I could help with that."

The dragon shook its head again. "I have no need of help feeding myself. There is no service you could offer me. Besides, even if I were inclined to protect you, I doubt it's something I could do."

"You have powers!" Jason shouted it out and then drew back, as if expecting a rebuke. When none came, he spoke up. "They'd be no match for you. Besides, they're afraid of coming here. All you'd have to do is let me stay here, at least till they forget ..."

"How many followed you? How many chased you here?"

He blinked. "Uh. There were five."

The dragon snorted lightly again. "That's why they turned back, they are only five. I could protect you against five," the creature said, then closed its eyes again. "But if they want you bad enough, they won't send five. They'll send fifty to come look for you. I cannot protect you against fifty."

"Sure you could ... you can use your powers on them, like you did to me ..."

"No." The dragon hissed a low, annoyed sound that made the young man cringe. "This city may look old but I am older still. I remember the hunting squads quite well. Five men I can fight, perhaps twenty. But all it takes is one well-placed arrow, and even I do not have the ability to ward off fifty men at the same time. Even if I wanted, I could not do it. Besides. I have no interest in protecting humans. I lost that interest centuries ago."

Jason looked crestfallen. He didn't think he could blame the creature, if the story it told was true, but he still felt cheated. He risked his neck to come out here, took a huge gamble. He looked out over the ancient city, crumbling around him, sighing softly ... when a thought popped in to his head. "You ... you live in this building, yes? Care for it? It's not crumbling, like the rest of the city."

"I do," came the largely disinterested answer.

"That must be a lot of work, taking care of it," he said, licking his lips. "I ... I could help you with that. Maybe even clean up the plaza some, make it a nicer place to be ..."

The dragon's breathing stopped, as if it were considering that. At the very least, the idea was not immediately rebutted, so Jason's hopes were elevated. "Please ... just, help me, that's all I ask for."

One of the dragon's eyes slipped open to look over at him. "I don't have the power to protect you. Not by myself. Not alone."

Jason's jaw tightened as he shook a fist. "I'll do anything, please! Anything you want. Just let me stay ... please help."

Again the dragon seemed to be regarding him for a long moment with that sapphire eye, not a sound except for the crickets breaking the night. The dragon's eye slipped shut again, but before Jason could protest it spoke up. "There is a pack near the fire," it said.

The young man blinked in confusion, but looked and saw the rudimentary sack there. He hadn't noticed it before. "So?"

"There is water inside, and a poultice. Wet the poultice, but not too much. Heat it over the fire till it is almost too hot to touch. Wrap your wounds in that, and it may draw out the infection in time to save your life." The dragon breathed out another sound like a sigh. "Drink the rest of the water; your body will need it for healing. There is also a small vial, and a wool blanket. The vial will ease your pain while you sleep. The blanket should keep you warm. If you are still living come morning, we will discuss your offer."

Jason again blinked in mild confusion but when the dragon didn't speak up, he reached for the pack. For some reason the fact that the dragon had agreed to consider his offer seemed to give him enough hope for the morning. A small part of him wondered if this were all just some strange dream, and he almost hoped it were true. Either way, he could hardly wait for morning to come along.

~~~~~~~

"Truth be told, I could use a little help around here."

Jason's teeth chattered in his jaw as he nodded, following the dragon closely behind. The morning had grown oppressively cold, even with the warmth that the wool blanket had provided. Surely he would have frozen to death without it, and he was utterly thankful for that.

The poultice seemed to have helped, as well. His wound had closed up overnight, and it looked a little less red and swollen. No fever had set in, and while it still ached immensely, the immediate threat of the poison entering his blood had passed. The medicine, too, had helped him sleep, banishing the pain, at least for the duration of the night. He had wanted to request another vial, but did not feel in any position to keep making additional demands.

Inside the building was every bit as cold as outside. The sun had only been up a few minutes before he was roused from his sleep, and the earth had a while to go before it warmed up any. Jason had followed the dark-scaled creature into a wide corridor inside the building, lit by a dazzling array of crystalline windows that seemed to somehow steal the light from outside and scatter it deep within the structure. It was unlike anything he had seen before, and if he hadn't been so preoccupied, he might have asked if it, too, were magic.

The dragon didn't seem at all affected by the cold as it lead the way. "There is a lot of work to be done around here. I'm not sure how useful you would be at helping," it said, pausing to look back at the shivering young man, before leading along again with a click of talons against the stone floor. "Though depending on how willing you are ... it's possible that might be fixed."

Jason nodded through his shivering. "Anything," he managed through his chattering teeth.

The dark scaled creature merely nodded, turning a corridor and heading toward a wide set of oak doors that were held open. Much to his relief, Jason could see a roaring fireplace within that room, and even here he could feel the heat radiating from the open entryway. Without even thinking about it, he picked up the pace and practically jogged the rest of the way to the room, staying just behind the dragon.

Just as he was beginning to indulge in the heat radiating over his face, the dragon spoke up to him again. "You said you were willing to do anything, yes? Anything and everything I request of you?"

Something serious in the way the question was posed made him pause, as he looked to the dragon briefly. What kinds of things would a dragon ask of a human, after all? Whatever it was, it surely would be better than the fate that he would receive at the hands of the torturers back in the town. "Yes," he answered, somewhat less enthusiastically, even as the captain's warning regarding the unimaginable fate he was consigning himself to in this place.

The thought made him shiver.

"I have one condition," the dragon said, stepping further in to the room.

"Condition?"

There was no immediate answer. Jason looked about the room curiously. It looked to be a library of sorts, countless tomes stacked on shelves lining most of the walls, heavy looking tables with more piles of books scattered on them throughout the room. There was one shelf in particular that did not hold any books, but seemed to hold a number of flasks and items that were not immediately familiar to him, and it was this shelf that the dragon seemed interested in. "Yes, a condition. Your offer must be valid for life."

The young man's eyes widened as he regarded the dragon, sapphire blue eyes on his again, feeling a tingle run down his spine. "You ... don't intend to ever let me go?"

"I didn't say that," the dragon rumbled in an annoyed voice. "You will be free to come and go as you please, but you must be at my beck and call at any moment. Your offer to do anything I request must never expire."

Jason swallowed a dry lump again, and then nodded. "All right, you have a deal."

The dragon paused before the shelf, rising up on his haunches and assuming a position that looked nearly like a seated position. Jason watched curiously as it rummaged around the items on the shelf, only just realizing that the creature's forelimbs and forepaws were remarkably agile. "I don't believe you," it said, flatly.

The young man took a step back, looking stunned at the accusation. "I ... I swear it."

"Oh, I know you do. And I believe you mean it," the dragon said with a rumble, still rummaging about. "That's not the problem. I do not believe you have the capacity to keep a promise like that. That's why you must prove it to me," it said, fishing out a pair of items before setting them on a nearby table, falling back to all fours and beckoning the young man nearer.

Jason looked at the items on the table. One was a nondescript looking flask with a liquid that looked like nothing more than water, while the other was a large, slender silver hoop. "How can I prove it?"

The dragon motioned toward the hoop with a talon. "This is a collar. If placed around your neck, it is a sign that you are my property. Other dragons will see and know this, and respect it, and offer you protection as such. It will allow me to find you no matter how far from me you are. More than that, it will give me the power to incapacitate you at any moment, at any distance."

The young man blinked and picked up the hoop. The material seemed flimsy, and had no hinge or latch. Rather than a continuous piece of material, it had a break in it that allowed it to be stretched open. "You want me to wear it?"

"Yes. But you must also know, once it is placed on your neck it can never be removed. It will only come off after your death, or if I will it off." The dragon turned and regarded him with a stare.

"That doesn't make any sense," Jason said, flipping the ring over. Not only was it flimsy, but it was larger around than his head. As a demonstration, he slipped it around his neck till it came to a rest around his shoulders. No sooner had he done so than he heard a metallic click, and suddenly the ring seemed to retract in size, shrinking until it was nearly snug against his neck. In a fit of panic he gripped at the ring, but it seemed to have taken new properties. The once flimsy ring would not bend or give in any fashion. His breathing increasing in a panic, twisting it around to find the break in the material. It was not there.

The dragon merely frowned at him. "Relax. You can still rescind the agreement for now, and I will remove the collar. Once we seal the deal, however, it remains on."

The young man nodded, the panic beginning to recede once he was certain that the ring was not going to restrict further and cut off his breathing - or his head. "All right," he said, still panting a little as he calmed down. "What ... what about this?" He pointed at the flask.

"Ahh, this." The dragon regarded the flask with a fairly serious look. "I do not trust your ability to follow my every command because humans are weak in mind. What if I ask you to do something one day, that fills you with fear, or dread, or revulsion, and you cannot do it? Were I to ask you to murder an innocent for me ... you could not, correct?"

Jason merely nodded, conceding the point, as the dragon went on. "This is a potion that will forever alter your mind. Drink it, and it will bind you to me for life. Pleasing me will become the most compelling force in your existence. It will render you incapable of refusing my desire, because doing as I say will become the most important thing to you. More important than food, than water, than air. More important than life. Drink this, and you would sooner die than refuse me." The dragon leaned in closer, a deep rumble issuing from its chest. "Drink this, and seal the deal. You will have my protection and I will have your services for life. Refuse, and I will force you from this place and kill you if you ever return."

The young man's eyes widened even further, staring at the flask. Suddenly he did not feel so sure about his promise. It was one thing to agree to the demands of another, but somehow the thought of being transformed into a willing slave for life made his insides twist. "I ... I don't even know your name."

"What?"

Jason swallowed again, stalling while he thought. "If ... if I'm going to be at your command for the rest of days, shouldn't I know your name? How else would I address you?"

The dragon frowned a bit. "My name is Ethan," it said softly, and then stood up a little more straight, somewhat intimidating as a wicked grin crossed its face. "But you shall address me as 'Master', should you drink this."

"Ethan? That makes you a ... a ... a male?" He was still stalling, and hoping the dragon didn't realize it.

At that the dragon made a sound like a roaring laugh. "Of course? Hasn't that been obvious?" He grinned toothily at the idea. "But I suppose I can forgive you for not knowing. Enough of this stalling, though. Choose now. Speak another word before drinking this and I will remove you from here." The grin on the dragon's face vanished, replaced with a stern stare.

Jason stepped back and gulped one more time. He turned his attention to the flask, picking it up and pulling the cork off. He held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply, but there was no scent at all. He almost asked a question about it, but then remembering the dragon's warning, he closed his mouth.

His hand began to droop downward to put the flask back down, when images of being strung up on a rack, whipped to a pulp flashed across his vision. He could almost see the wicked sneers of those five men who had pursued him, hunted him down like a rabbit, leering over him as some hooded torturer forced him into admitting terrible atrocities. He could feel the rope being tightened around his neck, hear the jeering of hundreds of his townsfolk, all throwing pebbles and stones at him and demanding his head. All for something he never did.

The flask came to his lips and he threw his head back. Cold liquid splashed into his mouth, and he guzzled down every last bit. It had no taste, no texture. It was exactly like water. As he lowered the flask and looked at it curiously, he wondered if it were just water.

The dragon had only been testing him.

He turned to look back to the creature, perhaps to even scold him for having doubted his sincerity, but as soon as his eyes lit upon those scales, he froze in place. The beast did not look any different than he had moments before. The same powerful form, the same ebony scales with hints of iridescent blue, the same sapphire eyes gazing back at him. All the same, something had changed. The dragon before him looked magnificent. The way his tail cut through the air, the shape of his form and the way his muscles tightened and relaxed as he moved ... the intense and perfect blue of those eyes. Jason could not help but to stare, frozen in place as he regarded this creature of perfection, far more beautiful than anything he had ever laid eyes on.

The flask, forgotten, slipped out of his grasp and tumbled to the floor with a crash. The sound made him startle, his eyes going down and looking at the glass shards scattering on the ground, and suddenly he felt his chest filling with dread. "Oh ... oh my god ..." Jason immediately went to his knees, grasping at the sharp bits of glass and scooping them up as quickly as he could. "I'm so sorry, Master ... please ... I didn't mean to break your flask ... please forgive me ..."

The dragon merely watched him for a moment, before he felt the touch of a talon under his chin. He froze up, ready to take any punishment the drake would dole out for his transgression. Instead, the magnificent creature gently tilted Jason's head back, the look on his face suddenly looking more genuinely benevolent. "Hush, child. It is only a flask."

Jason felt his jaw quivering. The stately image of the dragon's face in his vision began to blur, and he felt big heavy tears starting to well up in his eyes. "Please forgive me ..."

"All is forgiven, child."

That voice was so soft, so calm and soothing. Jason sniffled, scooping up the last shards of the flask and rising up to set them on the table. "Thank you," he said softly, turning to look at the dragon. The creature looked positively angelic with that smile, and the poor man couldn't help but to break out bawling, his arms shooting out and wrapping around the drake's neck. "Thank you Master, thank you so much for forgiving me ..."

The dragon was surprisingly gentle, as the young man felt the soothing touch of a taloned paw brushing against his shoulder. "Hush now, hush. Don't cry. We have important things to do."

Jason stepped back, nodding and sniffling, wiping the fat tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands, trying his best to compose himself. He didn't, after all, want to look like a complete fool in front of the dragon. "Of course, Master. What can I do?"

The dragon turned and, getting back up on his haunches, started rummaging around the shelves again. It struck Jason as being amazing that such a large and powerful creature could also have the grace and agility to do something like that. He found himself gaping while he watched the dragon work, that form looking somehow impossibly fluid and graceful with every movement, even something so mundane as scooping items off a shelf. When the dragon got back down, he set a few more items on the table, a large book, a shallow silver dish, a stick of charcoal and a small ceremonial dagger. "We must prepare you for your duties."

The young man nodded vigorously, stepping closer to the table. "Anything I can do to prepare for your wishes."

"Relax," the dragon said with a soft chuckle issuing from his chest, opening the large book and flipping through the pages. The words were all in a script that Jason didn't understand and couldn't read, and most of the diagrams and drawings were equally arcane. At least the dragon knew what he was doing, Jason thought to himself, and that was enough.

The book was finally flipped to a page that showed a sketch of a man with numerous markings on the skin, whorls and lines, curves connected in intricate patterns. "Do you see these patterns?" The dragon tapped a part of the drawing on the man's arm, and Jason nodded affirmatively. "I need you to draw this on your own arm, exactly like you see this here."

"I can do that," he said eagerly, scooping up the stick of charcoal. He'd never really done any drawing before, but clearly the drake found this to be extremely important. He took his time, looking at the illustration carefully, slowly mimicking the pattern on his forearm, the charcoal leaving bold black lines on his skin. It took only a few minutes to do. "Is that good?"

The dragon looked at the work and then nodded his approval. "Very good, child. Now you must do the same on the rest of your body. You must make it look exactly like the drawing," he sayd, tapping the open page in the book. "You must make sure it looks as much like this as you can."

Jason gnawed on his lip. It would be difficult, but he thought he could do it, until he spied the patterns on the back. "I ... I can't reach my back, Master," he said, terror starting to creep up into his voice.

"You can leave that part off for now," the dragon said, while he reached over to point at the dagger, and then the bowl. "When you are done, you must use this dagger to cut the same pattern into your skin. You must do it carefully. Do not cut so deep that you hurt yourself, but you must cut deep enough to draw blood. When you bleed, you must catch as much of it as you can in this vessel. Can you do this?"

Again Jason gnawed on his lip, his eyes widening. It sounded painful. "I can do that."

"Good." The dragon's voice was so reassuring, so calming, that Jason already felt better about what he had to do. "I must leave to gather some other items and make preparations," the dragon then said quietly, turning and heading to the door. "I will return shortly. Try to be finished before I return."

The young man gawked at the dragon as he made his way out the door, frozen for a moment. "What a wonderful being," he said under his breath, feeling a swelling in his chest that made him feel good and warm. He did not want to let the dragon down. He immediately set about continuing the markings along his skin, taking care to make them match what he saw in the book. He had to strip naked in order to complete the patterns, and it was a little cold, but he didn't mind so much. It was important to make sure that his master was pleased.

He moved a little closer to the fireplace to get some warmth, certain that the dragon would not mind if he did that. It helped, too, as his fingers shook less and he was able to make the more complicated designs better, following the sweeping curves, especially in the difficult places that were hard to reach. It didn't take long for him to finish.

As he put the charcoal stick back down, he looked at that dagger. It seemed so sharp. Gingerly he picked it up and placed the tip of the blade against the leading edge of one of the lines on his forearm, pressing gently. He gasped lightly as it cut neatly into the skin - it was every bit as sharp as it looked! Blood started to well up in the wound, and he guessed that was probably the right depth, so he started to drag the blade along the complicated design. The pain made little tears start to sting his eyes, and he drew in a deep breath, but he would be brave. It was difficult to do, but worth it to make sure he did a good job for the dragon.

His arm started to shake a little as he neared completing the first cut, so he took a deep breath to steady himself. When it was done, he set the blade to the side and let several drops of the blood drip into the silver dish. A few drops fell to the ground and he gasped. Hopefully the dragon would not mind, and hopefully it was okay to miss a few drops.

Jason moved to the next line and started to trace it out meticulously. He was able to do it a little quicker than the first one, shaking a little less, though it still hurt. Soon he was moving on to yet more of the complicated designs. As he moved he got better at it, making the cuts smoothly, and he was able to cut just right, so he was able to get the blood to follow the lines down and drip into the dish. Less of it dribbled onto the ground that way, and he smiled knowing his master would appreciate his efforts all the more.

Soon he was moving on to his legs. They seemed to hurt a little less when he cut them, but his arms stung still with the cuts all up and down them. He couldn't stop now, though, so he kept following the black lines on his skin, pausing only to grab the silver dish and catch a few drops of blood here and there. As he moved on, he started to feel a little lightheaded. He knew that he hadn't lost enough blood to make him dizzy, but the stinging cuts all over his body were starting to take their toll. Several minutes passed and he had moved on to his chest and abdomen. These proved to be a little harder, especially his upper chest where he had to be extra careful to follow the lines correctly.

Another wave of dizziness took him, and he had to be careful not to drop the dish with his blood in it. The mere thought terrified him! Finally he was down to the last parts, sensitive flesh on his thighs that he had skipped before, not looking forward to cutting there. Still, it had to be done and he knew it. At least the blade wasn't so cold, he thought to himself, as it kissed the skin of his thigh and he pulled it along those lines. He whined at the effort, feeling his head start to spin and his skin breaking out in cold sweats. His hand wavered and the dagger fell to the ground with a clatter.

Jason cried in spite of himself. He was so close to finishing! He wanted to stop, not go on, but his Master was depending on him. Gritting his teeth, he leaned over to scoop the blade up, and the rush to his head nearly toppled him over. Carefully he gripped at the side of the table to steady himself, tracing out the last of the lines on his thighs.

His head throbbed and spun. Unsteadily he gripped the silver vessel, holding it beneath his thighs and squeezing them to direct the flow of those drops of blood, running down the flesh and finally into the dish. With an effort, he lifted it carefully back to the table, setting it down gently so as not to let it topple over, and he took a step back. Immediately another wave of dizziness took him, and he knew that he would not be able to keep himself upright. Instead he did the only thing he could do, pushing himself away from the table so as to keep from knocking it over.

The floor rushed up to him rapidly and he knew it would hurt when he hit it. He didn't really care, though, for he had completed his task. Jason smiled in that fraction of a second before he met the floor, spiraling happily into the dizzying blackout until darkness was all he knew.

~~~~~~~

"Wake up child ... wake up ..."

Jason's eyes popped open, his ears still ringing. It took him a moment to process what was going on, and what had happened, but the mild stinging that lit up the skin on most every part of his body immediately brought back to mind the difficulty of marring his flesh with all of those intricate cuts. The pain seemed to have receded a little.

He found himself lying on his front side. He wasn't on the floor, though, and seemed to be propped up on a narrow altar of sorts, the stone of which was fortunately warm and worn smooth. He also realized that he was still bereft of his clothing, but he didn't seem to mind that too much. "Did ... did I do well, Master?"

"You did wonderfully, child. Perfect," he said, turning his attention back to a few items that he had on the floor. Jason merely watched with a growing smile as the drake worked. He felt a swell of pride in his chest again for having done so well, to have earned such praise from the dragon, it nearly brought a tear to his eyes.

The dragon had that shallow silver dish, still with the young man's blood in it. He seemed to have added a few other items, none of which Jason could identify, and was busily grinding it all into a thick red paste with a pestle. By the look of things, he had been at it for some time, too, as the mixture appeared to be nearly complete.

His guess was proven correct when the dragon scooped up the dish and held it out to the young man. "Hold this," he said, and the request was immediately met, Jason reaching his hands out and grasping at the dish. It was at this angle that the young man got a look at the dragon that he had not noticed before, at a level to see the creatures underside, the broad scutes running down the dragon's belly and downward. It was plainly obvious at that angle that the dragon was, indeed, a male. Jason found himself jealous of his master for a brief moment, before the sensation transformed merely into an appreciation for what he perceived to be such a wonderful form ...

The dragon seemed less interested in the stare. He had reached his paw into the mixture, dabbing it along the scales of his claw tips before pressing them to the young man's back. "Lie still," he instructed, and Jason wondered what he was doing back there. It felt like lines of that mixture were being drawn on his back. It felt strangely good. More of the mixture was dabbed up by the dragon, tabbing against the man's shoulders, the backs of his legs, even along his neck. Everywhere the touch went was a soothing sensation. The dragon then reached for a large container and slowly poured the contents over Jason's back. It seemed to be warm water. It felt wonderful.

"Turn over," the dragon said, and again Jason complied, carefully holding the silver dish so as not to spill the contents. He was still naked but was not ashamed, only wishing that he were half as handsome and well-proportioned as his master. Again the dragon went about dabbing that mixture over the man's bare skin, but this time he could see what was being done. The lines of the stuff were tracing out the cuts in his skin perfectly. He half expected it to sting but it did not; it instead felt good, cool, banishing the stinging pain that he still felt all over his skin.

Soon his front side was complete. The dragon again grabbed the large container of water and poured it over his skin, washing away the markings that were left behind. To his amazement, Jason watched as the cuts themselves seemed to melt away and wash off with the water, until there was not a mark of it left upon his body. His eyes turned up to the dragon, gazing into his sapphire eyes with abject amazement. "How ... how did you do that?"

The dragon chuckled. "Perhaps someday I will teach you," he said, before both his expression and his tone grew more serious. He moved across to the other side of the room, where a piece of furniture that looked to be something like a large flat bed, low to the ground, was tucked. "Sit here, you don't want to hurt yourself."

Jason did as instructed, his face filling with wonder as he sat on the broad cushion. It was so soft, he felt as if he were sinking into the warmest, gentlest embrace he could imagine. He decided that he must have truly done the dragon proud, to be treated to something so luxuriant. "Hurt myself?"

"We have prepared you on the outside," the dragon said somewhat solemnly, turning to one side to pick up an object that was nestled gently with in a container, holding it out to the young man. It was a small, somewhat misshapen object, light brown, about the size of a walnut. "Now we will give you the strength on the inside ... so that you are able to do the tasks that you must do, to keep your bargain."

The young man took the object and peered at it curiously. "What do I do with it?"

"Put it in your mouth," the dragon said quietly, "but do not swallow it. You will want to, you will feel a great urge to swallow it, but you must fight it off. It will be difficult, but you must not do it until you absolutely cannot any longer. When you can't fight it anymore, then swallow it. Whatever you do ... do not spit it out. Can you do this?"

"I can," he said with a smile, and did not hesitate in putting the little object into his mouth. At first nothing happened, and he was about to ask for further instructions when he felt a faint tingle on his tongue. He was vaguely aware of the object starting to dissolve in his mouth, bathing his tongue in a slightly thick liquid that had a faintly sweet taste to it. It seemed to fizzle on his tongue a little, creating a ticklish sensation as it began to fill his mouth.

Then the first drops of it hit the back of his throat, and the sensation hit. A sudden and visceral need to swallow the substance down hit, and he almost did, remembering his master's instructions seconds before it was too late. He grunted in an effort to resist the sensation, tilting his head forward to keep the stuff from hitting his throat. It helped, and the sensation subsided for a moment, the young man breathing carefully through his nose, the dragon looking on with an intent gaze.

The liquid kept expanding, though, bubbling up in his mouth and quickly filling that space up toward the back. Again the urge to swallow started to rise up in his body, and he fought it back as best as he could. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, feeling his body start to tense as he held back the very real and insistent urge, and soon the room in his mouth was starting to be filled by that fluid. He pressed his tongue to the back of his throat, hoping that would help, but the sensation nearly gagged him and he nearly spat the stuff up.

Only a few more seconds passed before the stuff filled his mouth and threatened to start bursting out of his lips. Fearing his master's insistence that he not spit it out, he finally gave in to the urge to swallow the stuff, it going down his throat in one massive gulp, as he leaned his head back and gasped a deep breath of air.

As he sat there with his jaw hanging out, a curious sensation began to wash over him. His tongue started to tingle and feel numb, the sensation rapidly spreading out to his lips. He bit lightly on his lip, experimenting, but he felt nothing at all. Soon the sensation spread to his jaw, and the muscles began to relax. He reached up and felt his face, realizing that all the muscles in his face had gone slack, his jaw hanging open. He couldn't close it, the muscle in his jaw simply wouldn't respond. His eyes went to the dragon, looking at him in a panicky manner, but the drake just watched. "Relax, child. It won't be long, now."

Jason tried to nod but found the effort difficult, as the numbness in his jaw soon spread to his neck. The sensation of his head beginning to roll forward and to one side, uncontrolled, was terrifying, but he tried his best to keep calm as he was asked. He reached his hands around his head to hold it up straight, but soon found it to be heavy, almost too heavy to hold up.

He realized it was not his head getting heavy; his arms were growing weak.

The young man fought the sensation, and the panic, but there was little he could do. Soon his arms drooped limply to the side, and his head once again rolled forward like so much dead weight. The sensation didn't stop there, and progressed down his torso, his core muscles soon giving in to the loss of control, his whole body slumping forward as he rolled to the side. His legs followed suit moments later, and suddenly Jason found himself in a limp pile on the cushion, not a single muscle in his body, save for his eyes, willing to respond.

He watched as the skin on his body itself seemed to droop. His eyes flicked about in terror as all he could do was helplessly watch his skin taking on a frighteningly elastic appearance, as if it were beginning to soften and melt, threatening to slough right off his bones. He couldn't even voice his concern, as even the muscles in his throat had gone dead. He felt tears starting to well up in his eyes and blur his vision. Surely his master would not let him die like this? Unless he had somehow failed him. Perhaps he had, and he simply didn't realize it, and this was his punishment. In that case he deserved it ... and in a way, that thought had a calming effect on him.

Without warning, the muscles in his body went rigid all over, and Jason could do nothing but helplessly gasp as his body was rocked by massive convulsions. The world pitched wildly around him, each muscle in his body suddenly moving with no coordination and no control, one arm flopping wildly in one direction while his midsection twisted and turned in horrible convolutions. The muscles in his neck clenched up and caused his head to be thrown back with such force he was certain his neck would snap. His jaw popped wide open, throwing itself out of its socket and gaping open at an impossible angle, making him scream in agony.

He was briefly aware of the dragon averting his gaze.

Another wild spasm caught his body and twisted it in another wicked convulsion, his entire body flopping about on the cushion like a stranded fish. This time the muscles seemed to be moving in impossible ways, rippling beneath the skin and twisting independently, straining the very bones beneath them. The muscles all up and down his body seemed to writhe and bulge, filling out the loosened and drooping skin till it was suddenly stretched taut, straining. The lines where he had cut himself suddenly became visible again, stretching in a grotesque fashion. He was certain he'd split apart into a hundred pieces along those lines.

Then it happened. The impossible bulging and writhing of the muscles under his skin strained his bones to the breaking point, simultaneously shattering so many of them into so many little pieces. The intense pain lit up his body, filled his skull with a resonating anguish, so much so that he wasn't even sure if he was screaming or not. Somehow, he was certain he could feel those fragmented bones shifting and jostling about under the out of control muscles, but he was no longer sure if anything was real.

Without warning, the battered bones in his arms suddenly softened, shifted, seemed to be arranging themselves back together. He was vaguely aware of the sensation of his arms stretching, deforming, growing longer and changing their proportions. As they did the bones somehow knitted themselves back together, those arms once again becoming solid and firm, the muscles beneath the skin bulging yet further to the bursting point, as his skin did just as he feared and split along the lines where he had cut himself, falling from his arms in tatters.

Just as the skin began to fall from his arms, he realized that the muscles there were suddenly responsive again. Instinctively he grasped at the cushion below him and held on tight, if only to keep from thrashing about so badly, when the bizarre sensations swept over his entire form. Suddenly his head felt like it was being alternatively compressed in a vise, then stretched in unnatural directions. His legs began to twitch as the bones in them followed the example of his arms, knitting themselves into strange configurations beneath the wildly thrashing muscles, filling them out as the swelled up and threatened to burst the skin there as well. His spine felt like it were being ripped right out of his back, as if a hand had reached right through his lower back and yanked it down and out.

Suddenly his eyes clenched shut as his head again felt like it were being crushed. His ears rang and he couldn't hear a thing, but oddly he felt the sensation again returning to his extremities, the muscles ceasing their wild thrashing and coming back under control. Instantly he curled himself up into a fetal position, crying out a gasp as the convulsions finally stopped.

"It is done, child. Open your eyes and see."

Jason did open his eyes, his vision briefly blurry before they fixated on the dragon, whose sapphire eyes were looking to him gently again. Cautiously he looked down at himself, expecting to find his mangled body broken into useless pieces, but was surprised. His forearms had been transformed into thick, powerful forelegs, not unlike his master's. Earthy brown scales with hints of dull violet splotches here and there covered those thick muscles, all the way down to his hands. They had been twisted as well, each finger now tipped with a sharp looking talon. Startled, Jason turned his head and looked down his body, aware of more of those scales cascading downward over his form. Jutting down from his lower back was a long, slender tail, tipped with a big fleshy spade that lay on the cushion below him. As he watched it, it gave a little twitch.

He looked back to the dragon, wide eyed, and only then realized that he was gazing out over a long, slender, reptilian looking snout. "Master ... you ... you changed me ... more like you ..."

The dragon chuckled softly and nodded. "Not quite the same, dear child. But this body is stronger and gives you abilities you would not have had before. You will need this body to do all the things I will teach you."

Jason felt like he could weep. Surely he was not as handsome and perfect as the drake. He realized that he lacked those powerful wings, and his form seemed somehow less perfect. Perhaps it was the color of his scales, more dull and earthy, perhaps it was the way his slender tail seemed so unwieldy. He knew that he could never be quite as perfect as the drake ... but to know he was that much closer, that much more like him, brought misty tears to his eyes. "Thank you ..."

"Hush," the dragon said. He was such a perfect creature, and the sound of that voice made him feel calm. "Rest. It will take a while to gain your strength, it will be a while before you are ready to learn, ready to serve."

"Of course, Master." Jason could only nod, a blissful smile on his face, as he rested his head back down against the cushion and closed his eyes. Exhaustion from the experience quickly brought sleep, thought the bliss he felt meant that the smile remained on his face while he slept.

~~~~~~~

Jason opened up his eyes after he felt a rustling near him, blinking a little in the state of half-sleep that he had been drifting in and out of for several minutes. It took him a minute to come to his senses enough to realize that the rustling was his master, the dragon. He looked back over his shoulder and a soft smile formed on his features when he saw the dark scaled drake curling in next to him.

Several days had passed since that fateful event that had changed his life. He had finally found his way here and that wonderful creature had changed him, had given him a new life, far away from those men who had chased him with murderous intent. Now he had the opportunity to pass his days, learning what the drake had to teach him and absorbing every last bit as if he had hungered for it all his life. He probably had, even if he hadn't realized it at the time. There was nothing that made him feel so complete as when that drake smiled, praised him for completing the tasks he gave him. On top of it all, he had been allowed to share the dragon's bed with him. It was so wonderfully comfortable there on that mattress, but more importantly was the chance he got to stay close to the male.

The dragon was a bit larger than him, and often curled in closely, sharing warmth with the smaller male and making him giddy with happiness. He spent several moments just sitting there, looking back at the dragon with a smile plastered on his face. The creature was so perfect ... so kind and gentle and caring, so intelligent and patient. So beautiful.

At first, Jason had thought that he was jealous, had wished that he looked more like his master, but it didn't take too long for him to realize that wasn't the case. He knew that he could never look quite as good as him, and even if he did somehow look just like him it wouldn't be the same, and that really wasn't he wanted. He just wanted to be closer. Sometimes, at night, he would scoot across to curl up against the larger male's form, and spend the night there. Those nights made him happiest of all.

Jason couldn't help but to stare, even while the handsome beast himself slipped into a blissful slumber. It was another thing that he did, at times, when he was still awake, was to spend time watching the larger male settle into a deep sleep. Sometimes he stayed up for hours, the drake drifting through various stages of sleep, sometimes kicking his feet gently while clearly having some kind of dream. Sometimes they seemed to be upsetting dreams, the dragon's features twisting up and soft but angry growls sounding from his chest. Those times, Jason could do little other than whimper and wish he could do something to help.

Other times the dreams seemed much nicer. Those times, the dragon was more calm and still, a smile across his face. Those were the times that Jason liked. There was nothing he liked more than the smile on his master's face, and knowing that he did something to please the drake.

Then, unbidden, a strange idea started to blossom in his head.

His eyes, big green saucers in the dim light, dragged themselves up and down the drake's body. He sometimes worried whether his master would appreciate the stare, but convinced himself that it was the sincerest form of flattery, and each time it happened he found himself gazing at the creature for longer periods of time. This night was no different. Those eyes of his drank in every curve of the dragon's body, the way those talons splayed out on the bedding, the way his tail twitched every now and again. This time, though, the way the drake was laying left much of his underside exposed. The smaller male's gaze drifted along the broad scutes of the dragon's underside, watching the way they stretched a little bit with each breath he took. Those big green eyes wandered a little further down and lit upon the dragon's nether regions.

The drake was well endowed, no doubt about it. Most of the time there was little to see other than a scaled sheath that was held close up against his form, but sometimes Jason was able to spy a little more. Tonight there wasn't a lot more that he could see, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from it. He felt an odd little stirring in his midsection as he simply stared.

A soft whimper sounded from his chest, but the dragon seemed not to notice. The smaller reptilian found himself licking his lips lightly while staring at his master's underside. He did so love pleasing the dragon. He squirmed a little bit closer to take a better look, faint hints of a musky scent drifting up and tickling his nostrils.

He looked beautiful.

Jason found himself hovering so close to the dragon's male bits, his tongue again flicking against his lips. He wanted so badly to reach in a little closer, to let his tongue brush up against those scales. He wanted to make his master feel good, but he wouldn't want to upset him. He didn't know if the dragon would like that.

I would like it, he reasoned to himself. He knew he would. He knew it would feel good. He knew his master would feel good, too. Gently he leaned in, letting the tip of his slender snout nestle up against those warm scales. He nearly pulled back in fear, but the dragon did little other than shift his position a little bit. Surely, he would like it.

The smaller male breathed out a quiet whine again, and pressed his snout right in between the dragon's legs. He inhaled deeply and whined a bit more at the delicious scent. Without even thinking about it, he found himself nuzzling his cheek warmly against the dragon's sheath, feeling the warmth of it against his cheek and making him rumble a little more loudly. The dragon responded by shifting, just a little more, a sleepy rumble sounding from his chest as well, but otherwise he did not stir.

Jason smiled blissfully. The dragon enjoyed the touch.

The smaller male nuzzled to that sheath a little more heartily while he smiled. He knew the dragon liked the touch when the drake breathed out more quiet rumbles, and when he felt the warmth against his cheek increasing a little bit. Soon he found himself nuzzling against a sheath that was rapidly thickening, the scent of musk on the air growing a little more pungent in his nostrils. It made him squirm.

He lost track of time while he nuzzled tenderly at his master, and didn't bother stopping until he felt something new on his cheek. He drew his head back a little bit and gasped lightly when his eyes caught sight of slick ebony flesh starting to peek out of the opening of that sheath, involuntary muscles beginning to pull the scaled covering back. The dragon's breathing had picked up a little bit, but he seemed to be still asleep. Jason licked his lips as he stared at his master's arousal forming in front of him. It was perfect ... slender at the tip and flaring rapidly out to a thicker middle, complete with little ridges along the middle of it. He wondered what his own looked like, and realized he had never bothered looking.

He was sure it was showing, now.

Another little whimper sounded from his chest. He wanted to make the dragon happy, wanted to please him so badly. He knew how good it would feel to the drake to have a warm muzzle on him there, he knew it would make him happy. It just had to. He leaned in again and let his slender tongue sneak out to gently touch against the tip of it as it hung there, the bead of moisture that had formed at its tip smearing over his tonguetips. The taste of it was salty and delicious, and it made him shiver deeply. The dragon breathed out a gentle grunt but otherwise didn't move.

He couldn't help himself any longer. He leaned in again and carefully took that tip between his lips, scooting loser to the drake. Within a moment he found his muzzle sliding down over that erection, whining happily at the feeling of it sliding along his tongue, filling out his slender snout so nicely. It tasted delicious. The feeling of having his master's cock in his mouth made him dizzy with pleasure, too. It had to feel good.

Jason's tongue curled about the member gently, letting his lips seal lightly around the flesh. The dragon breathed out a soft moan again as his hips gave a brief little push in his direction, feeling the length push further into his muzzle. He welcomed the thrust, the sensation briefly making him dizzy. He was hungry for his master, desperate to make him feel good, to pleasure him. With abandon, he pressed himself further in and took more of that flesh into his muzzle, and began to suckle on it.

He was so caught up in the giddy bliss of pleasuring the dragon that he didn't realize when the drake shook off the shackles of sleep; he only became aware of the fact when the bigger male finally spoke up. "Nngh ... what ... are you doing?"

At the sound of that voice he withdrew with a gasp, cowering a little bit. "Master! I ... just wanted to make you feel good ..." He licked his lips and whined, his eyes wandering back down to the erection hanging in front of him. It had to feel good. He couldn't help himself, pressing his slender muzzle back against the drake's belly and wrapping his lips around that cock again. He was hungry for it, and knew his master must enjoy it.

The drake breathed out a soft little groan again, wriggling. "Oh, you didn't have to ..." the dragon's breath caught in his chest as the little male desperately wriggled in against that tummy, gulping more of that arousal down into his hungry muzzle and suckling on it like that's what he was made for doing. The dragon's head leaned back a little. "That does feel good ..."

Jason would have beamed a monstrous smile at hearing that, except that he had his mouth full of dragonflesh. The fact that it was working, that the dragon was enjoying it, that he was making his master feel good was enough to drive him on. Each of those quiet little groans that echoed into the air made him whine a little more, pressing more fully up against the dragon and gulping down his member. Soon the dragon's shaft was dribbling profusely into his muzzle, and the little male swallowed it down only too eagerly. He knew that dribbling was a sign of profuse enjoyment, and again the giddy sensation of pleasure rang through his own skull, knowing the drake felt so good.

He pulled away only briefly, to suck down a lungful of air, before he dove back into that erection, wrapping his slender muzzle about it once more. The dragon moaned again, his hips starting to writhe a little, bucking into that ever willing muzzle and signalling yet more pleasure at the ministrations. It was exactly what he wanted to hear.

His master deserved to feel good, deserved to be treated well. He deserved to be pleasured, and it made him feel intensely good to know he was going to be the one to do it.

The smaller male was aware of the fact that he, too, was beginning to dribble, the pungent scent of his own musk mingling with that of his master's on the air. He was probably making a mess on the bed, and hoped his master wouldn't mind. He would be happy to clean it up in the morning, anyway. For now the drake seemed only too eager to have that muzzle wrapped around his maleness. Jason squirmed, his own hips writhing from side to side while he nursed on that cock, eyes held closed, nice and tight.

It had probably been ages since the dragon had felt a warm muzzle around his shaft. The smaller male knew that, and felt blessed to be the one to break the drought. As he suckled on the male, though, another thought entered into his head. It had probably been ages again since the beautiful male had the chance to be under another's tail, to mount another and rut them to completion. He knew his master must miss that feeling, and knew how wonderful it would make him feel. The thought of being the one to do something so wonderful for the drake made him whimper again, his hips starting to writhe in the air while he dribbled.

It had to be done.

Jason pulled his head away with a whine, squirming. "I want you to feel good, master ..." he licked his lips and held himself low to the ground, his tail flagging behind him as he squirmed. "Please use me ... I want to make you feel good ..."

The drake watched with a look that seemed curious for a moment while the smaller male turned himself around, arching his hips upward a little and flagging his tail in the air. He looked back at his master with a desperate sort of look, whining. "Please ..."

He watched as the dragon got up on all fours, standing up behind him. He could see the dragon's member hanging heavily behind him, dripping more of his excitement. The black scaled drake moved forward, nudging the smaller male's hindquarters before he crawled lightly atop him. Jason could feel the weight of the male on his back as he crawled up, scooting up his body, feeling his tail being tugged off to the side.

The sensation was delicious. He hiked his tail up willingly, pressing himself back in against the dragon. Soon he could feel it, that thick erection nudging up under his tail, making him grunt quietly. His master would mate him, and it would make the drake feel good. He wanted the dragon to feel so good that he would call out his name in pleasure.

Once he was positioned, the larger drake did not hesitate. Jason felt the grip on his midsection, holding him in place as the larger male's hips drove forward. The first sensation of being speared around that dragonhood was a mixture of intense pleasure and pain. He had never felt anything like it, and he wanted to cry out in pain, but he dared not. He heard his master groaning out in pleasure as he sunk himself deep into the smaller male's hindquarters, and knowing that the dragon felt so good kept him from crying out in pain. He would take the discomfort happily, if it made his master feel good.

The bigger male was soon inside of him, those powerful, massive hips rolling forward to sink the fullness of that length into his waiting undertail. He heard his master groan, the dragon leaning his head back and breathing out a low, guttural growl at the sensation, and Jason could do little but whine happily. He had been mounted by his wonderful master, and the dragon was going to use him to feel good. He could hardly think of anything he would love more.

He held his head down low to the ground, the fleshy spade of his tail quivering up in the air as it still remained held high. His small body began to writhe in response to the rocking of the bigger male's hips as he began to sate his need for sex.

"Oh, gods, you feel so wonderful," the drake called out to him. His master was praising him. He felt his heart soar in his chest, even as his body reacted to the mounting by quivering and squirming. The scents on the air grew thick with musk as the dragon began thrusting with those big powerful hips, forcing himself deep within.

It was all that Jason could take. His master was sating himself on him, using him to feel good. He was doing what he was born to do, make the dragon feel good, to pleasure him. He leaned his head back and cried out softly as an unexpected orgasm took him out of the blue, his hips bucking back against the bigger drake as he exploded onto the bed beneath him, whining loudly. He hoped that the dragon wouldn't be too upset with the mess he was making, but his body writhed and squirmed helplessly beneath the larger drake while he rode out the powerful sensations in his body. It made all of his muscles tighten, tense, even the ones under his tail.

That must have triggered the larger drake, for he leaned his head back and hissed out a loud, low growl into the air. He drove his hips more firmly and more needily into that tightness, his talons digging more deeply into the smaller male's hips. Jason didn't mind. It felt delicious. Even if he hadn't been busy riding waves of his climax, the simple knowledge that his master was enjoying himself so much was enough to keep him in a state of utter bliss.

How long his own orgasm lasted he wasn't quite fully aware, for even when he stopped spurting on the bed beneath him, the buzz of pleasure running up and down his spine didn't stop. His master had pinned him down a little more firmly against the bed, his weight holding the smaller male down. He could feel the hot breath spilling over his neck for a moment, and then the sensation of teeth clamping down on his neck, biting him rather hard.

"Ahhh! I make you feel good, master! Please don't stop!" He found himself begging for more, and the dragon seemed eager to give. Those hips began to piston into him more insistently, driving his own hips down into the bed, feeling the sticky moisture of his own spunk pooled up on the cushion beneath him. The big drake's insistent thrusting rapidly picked up in speed, driving up to a frenzy until suddenly the weight bore down on him, driving him into the bed, the large dragon's head leaning back and issuing a loud roar into the night air.

Thick gouts of semen splashed out under his tail. Jason could feel the dragon's shaft swell and pulsate under his tail as his master went right over the edge, that shaft driven as deep under his tail as it would go. The little male's vision briefly exploded into a dazzling array of pinpointed lights as the sensation of completion shot up his spine and made his head buzz. He had brought his master to the peak of pleasure and now the dragon was emptying his essence under his tail. There was simply no better pleasure imaginable than to know he had provided as much for his master.

How long he lie there with his master seeding his rear, he might never know. He whined and groaned every bit as much as the drake, and seemed to be going right over the plateau of another orgasm of his own, although this one was strictly in his mind. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, he found himself pinned beneath the weight of the larger dragon, the wonderful creature's chest alternating between pressing him down into the bed and relaxing a little as he drew in deep breaths of his own.

Jason smiled an enormous smile, closing his eyes. "Did you feel good? Did I make you feel good?"

"I've never felt so good," the drake called out between deep grunts and groans. The smaller male's face flushed with the pleasure again when he heard those words.

There were no words spoken after that, only the sound of the two spent males, nestled up to one another, until the joyful confines of sleep took them both once again.

~~~~~~~

Some time had passed since Jason had wandered his way into the city and run into the dragon. Winter had begun to set in, and across the plaza several drifts of snow had built up. In years past, it likely would have just continued to build up into great mounds, obscuring the fountain in the center and the great stone dragon protectors. This time, though, he had been able to help. His master had devised a wonderful way of clearing the snow: a large block of granite that he could push around in front of him, plowing the snow out of the way. He pushed it into the alleyways beyond the plaza so that it was unobstructed. The rest of the city might be buried under the white stuff, but at least the plaza would still be open.

He paused in his efforts to look around, smiling. The week before had seen quite the blizzard and left quite the mess, but the past several days had been mostly clear. Today had even seen a little bit of the sun peek out for a change, and had given him a chance to clear most of the plaza out. The fountain, at least, had been fully cleared out and the sentinel dragons were now mostly visible again, save for the pair to the south. Surely such good work would merit praise. Even the thought of that kind of praise made him giddy.

Of course, he would never have been able to do it had the dragon not given him the gift of his new body. There was no way he would have been able to push such large blocks of stone about as he had once been. He felt strong, and more than that, he felt much more useful to the dragon. Had he remained in his previous body he might have been able to offer a few services, but nowhere near the help he could be now. Life had been good for him, and he had been able to make life better for the dragon, too.

Nothing pleased him nearly so much.

The sound of the dragon's wings flapping caused him to stop what he was doing and look up into the air, seeing the dark shape come descending down into the plaza. He felt his heart skip a beat, and he scurried over to where the dragon would alight, smiling broadly. "Master! You are back from the hunt already! Have you already had success?"

The big black dragon settled his wings over his shoulders and breathed out a grunt, the look on his face mildly annoyed. "Not this time."

Jason nodded, the smile on his face not waning. "That's all right, master. We have plenty of food stored. You'll have better luck, next time!"

"You know, you can call me by my name."

"What?" The smaller male tilted his muzzle curiously, turning to follow the drake as he began to head back inside the great structure they called home. "I'm not sure what you mean."

The dragon grunted again. "You don't have to call me master all the time," he said, his voice still sounding a little annoyed. "I have a name. You can call me Ethan."

Jason smiles brightly at that and bobbed his head. "But why would I want to do that? You are my Master, and I should call you ..."

"Enough!" The big drake turned around and snarled at him, baring his teeth.

His chest suddenly filled with terror as he drew back, cowering. "Please ... I'm sorry," he said, ducking his head and pawing at the ground. "I didn't mean to upset you, Ma - Ethan, I didn't mean to upset you ... please forgive me."

The black dragon snorted and then just sighed, calming down and heading back inside the building. "Don't worry about it."

A sigh of relief was sounded from Jason's chest when he realized that he had not, in fact, upset his master. The mere thought of doing anything to make him angry was anathema to him, he would rather drop dead than disappoint the dragon. He smiled once again as he followed him inside, his slender tail starting to swish lightly behind him as they wandered inside.

He knew that he had to try harder to understand. No doubt, the dragon had a rough hunt while he was out, and was simply frustrated by his lack of success; he wouldn't be so angry at his pet for no good reason. There was never anything that the dragon did that was mean spirited or inappropriate, and in fact, all he ever did was wise and fair. Jason's life had never been blessed so much than it was now, that he was living with the wonderful creature. The thought brought another broad smile to his face as he wandered inside.

He would just have to make the dragon feel better.

With a scurry of talons against the stone floor he caught up to the drake when they had arrived back at the room they slept in. The dragon had settled in to the bed, and the smaller male immediately settled up next to him, curling in with a contented little purr. "You make me happy, master ... Ethan! You make me happy."

The big drake rumbled quietly, but wound up pressing himself up against the smaller male. "You make me happy, too."

Hearing that made Jason's heart soar, and he pressed himself closer to the dragon with a soft rumble. "I love you."

There was a brief moment of silence. "What?"

Jason blinked and looked over his shoulder when the sound of that question had an edge to it. "I love you ..."

The dragon pulled himself away with surprising speed, hauling himself up to all fours. Before the little male could speak, he shook his head and turned away. "No ... it's not right ..."

He felt his heart sink, and a cold chill came over his body as he stood up. What could he have done wrong? "It's true ... I do love you, with all my heart ... you make me so happy and I want to ..."

"Enough!" The command was sharp and sudden, enough to make the smaller male draw back into a cower. The dragon merely shook his head, calming down again and beginning to sigh. "Look ... I know you do ..." he shook his head lightly.

"I do! I really do!"

"But ... not like this. I never really meant for it to be like this," the drake said.

Jason still quivered, looking up with big, green saucer eyes. "I don't understand!"

The dragon stood quietly for a moment before he began to step closer to the smaller male, the look in his eyes slowly becoming more resolute as he got closer. "I have to make this right," he said quietly, his head dipping a little bit as he drew near. "You have to go."

The smaller male's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "You ... you're getting rid of me?"

"Not exactly ..." the dragon again breathed out a soft sigh. "Look, you've been wonderful, and done exactly what you promised to do. But this isn't right. You should go ... look. When I take the collar off ... it'll undo all of the spells that happened to you since then ..."

"No! Please!" Jason wailed quietly as he pulled his body down closer against the floor, the look in his eyes one of abject fear. "Please don't get rid of me master ... please!"

"It's for your own good," he said, drawing nearer and reaching for the collar on the little male's neck.

Jason whined and wailed plaintively, fighting the urge to take off running but clearly not wanting to stay put. "No, please, please ... don't turn me out, master ... I'm sorry I've upset you, please, I'll do anything ... please ... just don't turn me out ..." He could feel the touch of talons on his neck, hooking under that collar, and he wailed more loudly. "No! No please ... anything ... I'll ..."

Then, all of a sudden, he felt the raw ends of the ring scraping along the scales of his neck as it was suddenly pulled free. The ground seemed to rush up to him, as in the blink of an eye his arms shrunk back to the way they had been before, and he found himself naked, bare skin pressed to the ground. His eyes widened as he came to a full realization of what had just happened.

"I'm sorry," the dragon said with a low grumble, turning to look away. "Your clothes are still here. They're in the chest."

A long and pained moment of silence passed. Jason remained on the ground, looking at his hands as the thoughts rushed through his head, the memories of the past month, all he had done while under the dragon's spell, the services he had provided. He shuddered lightly. "What am I supposed to do?"

The drake's back was turned to him, so his voice sounded a little muffled. "You kept your end of the bargain. I broke mine. You are free to go."

Jason stood up, feeling suddenly cold as the air kissed his naked form, the skin prickling up a little bit. "And where will I go? I can't go back to my town. They'll hang me ... string me up. I can't go back."

"There are other towns." The dragon rumbled quietly, his head still hung low. "If you follow the road and go east past the river ... two day's travel, you'll come to another village. It's a bit larger. Perhaps you'll find safety there."

"You're kicking me out?" Jason hugged his arms around himself, narrowing his gaze at the creature. "You want me to just ..."

The dragon's voice deepened as he growled. "Just go." There was no response, the young man still standing still, when the dragon's head whipped around, snarling at him menacingly. "GO!"

Jason cringed at the sight, and the fear ran up his spine. A part of him felt intensely angry for what had happened, and he wanted to strike back, to scream and yell at the creature and hurl all manner of invectives, but somehow he could not find the energy. He simply held the angry gaze for a long moment, his eyes fixated on those sapphire blues for a long moment. Then, without a word, he turned. The chest was not far behind him, and inside he found his clothes. It was a long, awkward moment that seemed to take all too long to pass.

When he was dressed, he stormed out the door without so much as looking back.

Anger swelled in his chest as he ran out into the cold plaza, the waning sun casting long shadows on the ground. They were not unalike the shadows when he had been caught here a month before, and the memory caught in his chest like a spike. His face screwed up in a fit of anger, and he began to sprint, run as fast as his legs could take him. A month's worth of memories of being used and abused, controlled like a slave, the things he had done for that dragon under the guise of protection, scrolled through his memory in a fiery stream of anger. Towering stone buildings, half-filled with drifted snow, blurred past his vision as he took off at an all-out run.

He didn't slow. His legs kept pumping up and down, angry gusts of air billowing out from both sides of his mouth in white puffs of steam, his face twisting further in sheer agony at the memories. Soon he passed the towering columns and out into the cold, damp forest, but still he didn't stop. His legs took him down the same path that had brought him there weeks ago, going so far as to veer off into the forest and abandon the path that the dragon told him he should keep to.

Twigs and branches smacked against his face again, bringing back the same memories from before. The trees were all bare of leaves now, lost in the grip of winter. Snow crunched underfoot as he simply ran. It was a miracle that he didn't trip and fall and kill himself.

Just as daylight was beginning to die off, he found himself at a familiar clearing in the woods. By now, winter had claimed the leaves of all the trees and the once babbling brook had all but frozen over, only the vaguest trickle of water running among the cold blocks of ice. The young man came to an abrupt pause, gazing around the clearing until he found what he was looking for, an arrow still embedded deep within a tree trunk. He stepped over to the tree and brushed a finger against that wooden shaft, and a shiver ran down his spine.

He wasn't sure whether to scream or cry.

He understood the motivation behind what happened, but knew that didn't justify the means. The drake was lonely; he would be too, if he had been alone for centuries. That had not given the dragon the right to control him like that, twist his body, and more deviously, twist his mind. That was just wrong.

Dealing with the torturers back in the town would likely have been better. He balled his fist tightly as he shook with anger, but he knew he had to leave it behind. He had to move forward. He had to make a decision, and he knew what he had to do. He marched straight for the frozen stream, resolute.

~~~~~~~

Night had fallen, and it had caused him to become lost in the woods. More than once he had turned himself around, wandering in circles, until he had finally found the way he had been seeking. At least the cover of night had made it easier for him to sneak between the buildings once he had slipped back out of the forest, but he worried about the days old snow on the ground. A thin crust of snow had melted a little before freezing up again, and he ran the real risk of making crunching sounds when he snuck among the buildings. Somehow, he had managed to make it this far without raising an alert.

He shuddered to think of what would happen, if he were caught.

The going was slow and steady. The night was moonless and dark, and he had a difficult time telling which direction he was moving. He had to take his time to be sure he was turning the right way, passing one building after the next, deciding that he was not going the right way. It didn't help that the windows were all dark; still, that was something he would have expected at such a late hour of the night.

A distant owl hooted, and the sound made the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. For a brief second he was afraid that he had been noticed, but as soon as he realized that he was still safe, he began slinking slowly among the buildings again.

Being a wanted man was never simple.

Eventually he had made his way to the building he was looking for. He paced around near the entrance several times to make sure that it was the right one, and when he was satisfied, he had slunk over toward the entrance and gently pushed at the door. To his amazement and his relief, it had been left unlocked and slipped open with hardly a creak. Still, as he had pushed it open, his heart stopped in his chest for fear that someone might be standing there at the other side, waiting for him. If he were caught, he'd no doubt be doomed.

In spite of the cold, he abandoned his boots outside the door. His bare feet were able to gently move along the floor of the structure without making too much sound, but the cold made him shiver. He would have to be fast, so that his feet would not grow numb and he might lose his footing, might accidentally slip and fall, might accidentally kick something on the ground and make too much noise. Now that he was inside, any mistake would probably be fatal.

He tiptoed down a hall, straight toward the room he was looking for. In another stroke of luck, the door to that room was already open. He peered up and down the hall, curiously, cautiously, and when he was certain that he was alone he slipped inside.

In the lack of light there was little he could see, but after waiting for a long moment, his eyes adjusted enough that he could make out the vague outline of the furniture. His eyes turned toward a narrow table that was near the center of the room. He knew that the occupants of the building kept valuable items there, on display. He knew that if he were caught here it would be the end. He was wanted for thievery. He tried to claim innocence before. It wouldn't work well again.

Quietly he traversed the room, reaching out lightly and letting his fingers brush against the edge of the table. Slowly he slid his fingers along the surface, being extra careful. He wasn't certain what trinkets would be there, and he ran the real risk of knocking something over and making noise at the worst moment possible.

His fingers first drifted over something cold and metallic, and heavy. He wasn't certain what it was, and didn't really care. It wasn't what he was after, in spite of the fact that it was probably made of something like pure silver, or maybe even gold. He let his fingers drift over the metallic shape, before they nudged up against something less heavy. His fingers traced out the shape, and he soon decided that it was a goblet of some kind. Probably jeweled and extremely valuable. Still, he ignored this and moved on.

His heart stopped for a moment when his fingers left the goblet and it shifted, a mere fraction of an inch across the top of the table, making the most imperceptible scraping sound. He froze in place and held his breath, his ears suddenly perking up and listening for anyone approaching.

There was no sound.

His heart began to beat loudly in his chest. Part of him feared that the sound of it alone would alert someone, as he reached along the tabletop, his fingers finally alighting on something that he knew he was looking for.

As his fingers traced out the shape, his breath caught in his throat. He knew this item was far more valuable than all the others, perhaps more valuable than the rest of them combined. He knew that for this item alone, his head could roll. As his fingers traced out the shape of it there, on the table, he smiled lightly to himself.

The irony of it was fantastic. He had been wanted, hunted, and nearly killed because he had been suspected of stealing a chicken. Now here he was, having snuck quietly in here, his fingers gliding over objects of immense value and worth. If any of his former accusers had seen him within sight of the building alone, they would have expected the worst. To be caught here now, in this room, with these objects of great value in his hands, would probably be hung on sight. The term red handed passed through his head, and he smirked.

Then the room lit up from behind him. He froze.

"What are you doing?"

He glanced down at the slender metallic ring that now dangled from his fingers. He didn't immediately respond to his accuser, letting his fingers run along the length of that metallic item. He didn't know what it was made of, but knew of its value all the same. Still, he didn't answer.

The voice behind him grew angry and sharp. "Put that down."

Jason closed his eyes briefly, turning around and steeling himself for the encounter. Opening his eyes, he gazed back at those sapphire blues without any fear. "I am taking this back."

The drake growled lowly, taking a step forward. "No, you cannot have that. It's for your own good ..."

The young man didn't wait for the sentence to be finished, grasping the ring and pulling it open. In one swift move, he slipped it around his neck, in spite of the roar that sounded across the rest of the room. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen if he put it back on, but he had a good idea.

The room suddenly seemed to shrink a little, as he grew top heavy. He fell to all fours, feeling his slender tail uncurling behind him as he looked up with wide saucers of eyes at the sapphire blues that were filled with anger and anguish. "Take that off!"

He cringed and drew back lightly, half closing his eyes. "No."

"I told you to take that off ..." The dragon nearly roared again, but then suddenly stopped, pulling back on his haunches lightly. "What ... what did you say?"

Jason bit his lip, rising up a little bit, his eyes growing even wider. "I ... I said no ..."

"But ... I told you to. You can't ... if I told you ..."

The smaller dragon stood up a little more straight, his face starting to twist into a curious smile. "I know you did. But I'm not taking it off, Ethan."

The larger drake looked stunned. He took a tentative step forward, regarding the smaller male with confusion. "There's no way to break that spell," he said, letting his breath catch as he stopped again. He looked truly bewildered. "Except ..."

Jason bit his lip and took a tentative step toward the larger drake, himself. "Except what? I ... I expected it to come back, but ... it's not," he said.

Ethan turned to look to the side, his tail whipping out to his side. He seemed almost afraid of the answer, and hesitated in delivering it. "The spell will not work on someone who has already decided to submit themselves to the will of the one casting it. One who has already chosen ... but the desire has to be sincere ... it has to come from ..." He paused a little and turned to look back at the smaller male with wide eyes. "Why did you come back?"

"I know you're lonely," Jason said, leaning up and letting the tip of his snout touch against the larger drake's cheek. The sensation was almost electric, and he nearly pulled himself back. "I know you ... you need me."

The larger drake shuddered a little himself, his eyes looking as if they were bordering on breaking out in tears. "But ... you didn't have to come back ..."

"I need you too, Ethan."

The momentary break in the silence was brief. Without thinking, the smaller male leaned forward and pressed his lips up to the dragon's, and without any hesitation the larger male reciprocated. In a sudden and unexpected instant, the pair found themselves locked into a tight, passionate kiss, soft whimpers sounding from scaled chests. For that long and blissful moment, there was nothing, nothing beyond the kiss that they shared.

When it ended and Jason found himself pulling back, panting lightly for his breath, leaning up and smiling, though his big green eyes were quivering a little. He wasn't sure how or why it had happened, but he knew what he wanted, more than anything, was to stay. Not just to please the dragon, either, but to please himself, to answer the hunger and need that ran through his own soul, to fill the empty spot in his own heart. He needed the dragon. "Ethan ... please, keep me."

The larger dragon smiled, a broad smile. "Jason ..."

There was another long pause as the two gazed into each other's eyes, the larger drake speaking up after what seemed a brief eternity.

"Welcome home."