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Memoirs of Dragora

Chapter 7: Primal Rages to Broken Bonds

His friends assumptions of the goblin not lasting long were in deed true for it took an ill step and stumbled, followed by nauseating crack and rip. Dragora himself came to soon after , seeing the edge of his blade being held by Zerion's bleeding palms, causing him to drop the blade immediately, falling to the ground in despair at what he did.

"W-What happened? Why was I attacking you, of all people? How did I get here in the first, I was at the bottom of the tower, walking in the door. Then it went all... black." Dragora said wearily, looking as though he was going to faint. "So tired... so much pain..." he stumbled out as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Slypnir, do you have any indication as to what happened? And there's something grimacing about that gem, it's surrounding with an eerie wind that sent a spasm my arm when I came in contact with it!" Zerion exclaimed, realizing that it was indeed not Dragora's mind that controlled his body.

"I...I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. He was always calm even in the most dire of situations, and that gem is completely foreign to me as well.... something far greater and darker is afoot, this I'm sure of." Slypnir said rushing over by Dragora's side and feeling to check if he was alive still.

Dragora felt himself falling, further and further into the depths of the void that surrounded him. Finally, he saw what looked like a star, but as he fell closer, was blinded by the pure light that shown through the blanket of darkness around him. He suddenly slowed to a stop in midair and felt his feet come in contact with the ground. The small light started expanding, forcing him to close his eyes, and look away in vain, for now it completely surrounded him. When he felt he could open them again, he cautiously squinted them open, greeted by a lapis blue sky and golden field of grain. He looked all around him, trying to get a feel for his surroundings, but the was only one road leading away, which he eventually started following. After a while down, he started hearing faint voices. Somehow they were exotic, yet familiar to him as if he had heard them before.

"He's been asleep for 4 days now, and still no sign of getting any better...."

"...Still alive, though barely hanging on. The best we can do is get him to a sage and see what they will have to say.

"Agh, I can't stand waiting any longer! I'm being tortured at whether he's going to make it or not, and it's eating me up inside..."

"Hello? Who's there? Show yourself, I will not attack." Dragora said gently. "Please, at least tell me where I am..."

"You are in the Twilight Fields, surely you remember them? Do not tell me you forget your past so quickly... you were here once before, though quite younger then.." A new voice gently replied. It was a young fox who was coming out of the field to his right. "Also, you were more timid then, and ran from me at first.

"Wait, now I'm remembering... you, you're the one who cured me of the disease... Then that must mean..." Dragora cut himself off abruptly, falling to the ground in despair thinking that he was dead.

"No, I can assure you that you are still alive, but first, come let us talk and harvest a little. You still have much time before you must go back." The fox replied soothingly, picking up Dragora gently and helping him to his feet. "So has it really been that enjoyable of a time in life, or did you merely not get the chance to say goodbye to the ones you love?"

"Both I guess, I mean I just started getting out to see the rest of the world... and what of you? How have you been faring all this time, S'kria?" Dragora said, finally recalling the name of the fox.

"More or less like I always have, though I get less company nowadays, so a little lonely..." S'kria replied reminiscently.

They worked the fields, talking and sharing stories of their lives and others, catching up over 15 draconic years of time. They harvested and gathered until nightfall, where the went into S'kria's small house off a distance from the road, in the middle of the field.

"It never ceases to amaze me how you've kept your physique all these years, it's as if time doesn't affect you..." Dragora said, flirting to the figure by the fire.

"It seems you have filled out well also. so tone, so slender..." S'kria replied seductively, moving toward Dragora's seat and taking off his shirt. "mm... it's been a while since I've had pleasurable company..."

"Now that's just teasing, let's finish the job shall we?" Dragora sighed eagerly shifting around and taking off S'kria's pants, leaving nothing but a fragile, thin loincloth to hold himself from protruding.

"And what about you? I think you have more on than I do..." S'kria grunted, feeling the threads come loose and kneeling down to take off Dragora's under and over shirts.

"There's no one around, shall we go lie in the fields?" Dragora said, enthusiastically taking off his lower garments and moving toward the door.

"ooh... that sounds better..." S'kria blurted, barely controlling himself.

They walked outside into the tall, lush, soft fields when they found a spot and began to lay down when S'kria's loincloth finally gave way for the throbbing shaft as it tore it's way out of it's prison, causing Dragora to slightly grope at the sight. He snuggled into S'kria's arms and began rubbing his palm down his chest, along the abs, and finally grasped the pulsating rod, working up and down, studying his mate's breathing. Dragora traced his other hand around his partner's waist downward until he reached the back and found S'kria's porta, in which he gently slid his finger into and felt his lover quicken in breathing. Feeling, his muscles tense, Dragora worked faster, seeing S'kria trying to hold back as much as he could to keep the ecstatic feeling that he hasn't felt in ages in him. Dragora drove his fingers deep inside S'kria, causing him to lose composure and he spluttered onto the both of them, making Dragora close his eyes in delight and pleasure. S'kria traced his tongue down Dragora chest slowly, playing with the artful lines of flesh emphasizing his build, and finally gripped the shifting pillar of pleasure with his tongue, sliding it along and around, feeling Dragora tense and sigh with rapture. He began to flow up and down, matching his mate's breathing and massaging his column with the ribbed roof of his mouth. S'kria felt Dragora tensing letting out small groans and respires, slowly losing the tension to hold back. He moved his tongue upward, plugging Dragora's urethra as he lost control, causing him to flex multiple times,all hindered by S'kria's glossa. After a few more times, he finally let loose Dragora's essence into his oral fissure, letting the seed flow powerfully down his throat. Dragora unsheathed his mass from S'kria's mouth, snuggling up next to him and putting his arm around his partner, in which they both peacefully dozed in the field.

"How much further until we reach the sage? I can't help it any longer, looking at him in this state worries me deeply..." Zerion exclaimed to the front of the caravan.

"Not much further, we should be there by noon. And I'm just as worried as you are, but I can't get these things to move any faster!" Slypnir shouted back, coming out of thought and trying to hasten the manticores.

"Noon, I hope that's in time...I know it's enough time, we shall be together again soon..." Zerion uttered looking to Dragora's unconscious body for some kind of reassurance.

The caravan had long left the jungle, but did not go toward Aerinia. They were headed further north, toward the Sea of Frost, where amidst the maze of corridors and snow flurries there was believed to be a lone sage of the ancient kingdom that once stood guard there. Slypnir had pondered over and studied this tale many a time, but never had traveled near this arctic tundra. Zerion however, hated the cold as much as he hated seeing friends in danger, but was stalwart to withstand it if that meant means to help Dragora.

"Well, I don't see any harm in trying to keep both of us warm." Zerion grunted as he pulled himself further into the caravan to huddle near Dragora. "I haven't even been to sleep in two days..." he sighed, closing his weary eyes and drifting off quickly.

"Damn it, I hear you snoring back there! Gr, must stay awake..." Slypnir muttered, shaking his head and hopping up and down in his seat to shake off any comfort.

He did not have to do this for long, however, because at noon he was in the borders of the bitterly cold and unforgiving tundra. He decided to set up a small resting area here to refresh and prepare for the weather ahead. He woke up Zerion and made a small fire, using whatever wood he found and a small amount of magic to conserve his strength. They sat by the fire together, watching the flames create silhouettes of reds and yellows on the mystical wall of snow, mesmerizing them both into leaning onto each other instinctively and listen to the other's breathing. After a while, Slypnir laid his head on Zerion's lap, greeted with a pulse from Zerion as he shifted slightly to make them both comfortable. He snuggled in closer, muzzling Zerion a little and letting his head rest on his package and letting out a suggestive exhale.

"I know where this is going..." Zerion sounded out in pleasure, pulsing more vigorously now.

"he-he, indeed." Slypnir breathed out seductively, taking off Zerion's shirt and working pulling off his pants already.

"Alright , I'll take 'em off, while you start stripping that is." Zerion insisted as he began sliding off his loincloth, letting himself bulge out freely while watching Slypnir start rummaging through the caravan."What are you looking for?"

"Ah, here it is... this!" Slypnir answered keenly, holding out the bottle of oil Zerion and Dragora had used in the tavern while squeezing his thighs together to let his skivvies drop. "I modified it a little too..."

"Now I really see where this is going!" Zerion replied in exuberance, never having known how large Slypnir was.

Slypnir gently took hold of Zerion's tail and lifted it softly, rubbing the now strangely-colored lubricant inside Zerion and took another douse to smooth and make his shaft more slide-able into Zerion's tight entrance. Zerion laid Slypnir down gently and began to mount him affectionately and carefully, trying his best to hide the slight pain, for he never bestrode another before now. He was aided by the lubricant, which felt more frictionless than before, and letting the muscles relax quicker. Slypnir gasped in delight, feeling himself slide deeper into Zerion, so tightly he could feel the ribs of the tract as he slipped into the depths of euphoria and delight. Zerion started sliding back up, swinging his tail around and docking it into his partner, starting to feel stimulated now that his muscles were being stretched to accommodate Slypnir's thick extrusion throbbing within. Slypnir started breathing heavily, thrusting slightly as he became more intertwined into the lucidly gratifying acid of the time, while Zerion became more aroused, kneading Slypnir's sweet spot with his tail avidly, hastening them both as they approached their climax. Slypnir was the first to lose restraint, letting his passion rush forward and into his mate, bucking and squirming in exaltation. Zerion couldn't hold any longer, and let his ejaculate charge out onto the both of them as they looked into one another's eyes with deep affection. He dismounted his lover, letting the juices seep out but to his surprise, it was a kind of sky-blue.

"Told ya I modified it a little..." Slypnir remarked, exhausted from the exercise.

"I'm guessing you have bucket of water somewhere on the caravan too?" Zerion said lifting up the rest of the way.

"Nah, there's a river nearby," Slypnir replied, standing up and walking toward a thicket of trees. "It's just beyond here."

Zerion followed his nude partner through the batch of trees to a quietly flowing river coming from underground. There, they helped wash the other off, being sure to get between the scales and in the crevices. They went back to the camp dried off near the fire, putting their clothes back on after they were dry,and laying Dragora down on a dried out spot near the fire, and soon after, they fell asleep as well.

Dragora woke up to find himself in a chair back in S'kria's house, with a hearty breakfast sitting in front of him. He looked around but saw no trace of the fox, so he hastily ate up and went outside to gather grains for his caretaker. When he stepped outside, however, he found someone very different.

"That face... those scars, could it be?" The stout figure whispered aloud. "...Dragora, is that you? Yes, you need not say anything, your eyes tell me enough... It's been so long, I doubt you remember me at all." He stated going where Dragora could see who he was.

"Your voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it." Dragora replied uneasily,letting his eyes adjust to see a very young looking panther with a large scar along his chest. "You look familiar as well, but I still can't recall your name."

"So it is true, I guess I am an unsung 'hero', even amongst those who were close to me...let us spar a little to jog your memory shall we?" the panther said, a blade taller than himself with a lance handle appearing in one hand and a rapier in the other.

"Fine, let's do battle!" Dragora answered, summoning his sword and settling his feet.

The panther was the first to attack, thrusting the grand blade forward and bringing it around for a grand sweep, felling all the crop around him, but Dragora evaded effortlessly, retaliating by hooking a tooth in the panther's blade with the curve of his own. The panther launched himself forward, using the catch like a sling shot and propelling the reach of his sidearm forward, but Dragora quickly unlatched and threw his opponent off-guard. Regaining his footing, the panther launched another assault, this time putting his rib muscles into it, making Dragora almost lose track of where the lance-blade was. After what seemed 5 movements from the panther, Dragora was able to keep his eye on the blade. He parried the lance-blade with ease, but couldn't catch the rapier right. After a few more tries, Dragora saw that he was indeed catching the rapier, but the panther gripped the handle and the sword turned into a chain and merely slipped off of Dragora's edge.

"There is only one person I know with a lance-blade and whip-sword, one who favors reach over power, balancing attack and defense... Midnight, the only mercenary who held true to his promise of protection. Why are you here?" Dragora said confidently, lifting his blade over his shoulder.

"Very good, indeed I am he, and I merely heard there was an assault on Krjn that was successful, and the only person who I know that survived its curse once before, so happens to be you. However, when I get there, all I see a demon swinging wildly at a bystander." Midnight said in a long-winded explanation. "After that bystander took a blow from your sword and managed to grab it dead in it's tracks, I realize it was you, taken over by that unnatural thing socketed in your sword hilt." he finished, pointing at the dark gem on Dragora's blade.

"T-This was the cause of it? But... it can't be..." Dragora stuttered, looking at his own blade timidly,

"Well when he grabbed it, you began to transform back and fainted, to no avail of waking up, so I decided to travel here and see what was the matter.." Midnight replied assuredly.

Dragora almost threw his blade into the ground in fear of realizing what it could do to him, but he remembered the soul-forging with the wind and merely held out in disgust.

"The first thing we've gotta do is make you whole and that sword merely a manifestation of wind.... Come, we can begin this process in my forge, a little ways down from here. Say your goodbyes to S'kria for now, but rest assured you'll see him again." Midnight said over his should,heading out toward the road.

"My my, quite the harvesters you two are..." S'kria said, coming from the tool shed and seeing a large absence of grain stalks around Dragora. "I think that fills my quota for today as well... Anyway I heard the conversation, and he was right about you seeing me again, for my time here is almost done, and I shall go back to your world soon enough. As for you however, you should get to catching up with Midnight, for if what he said was true, then you have made a dire mistake with the soul-forging."

"Alright, I don't need to hear it more than once, I didn't think it would have that much power over me..." Dragora replied, jogging over to the waiting panther on the road and began walking with him down the path.

They walked for a while, nary a word being said between them as Dragora was contemplating his error of judgment and looking at his hands, the palms red from his frustration at himself for not listening to Slypnir. When they reached Midnight's forge, Dragora was astonished at how industrious it looked, with the chimneys not shedding a single puff of smoke and remnants of arcane magic lingering about freely within. He walked inside cautiously, looking all around him at the strange devices that were scattered all throughout the oddly chilly shop.

"This way, and summon your sword so it can attune to the magic and become null." Midnight shouted from a small hallway over the rattling and clanking of machines.

"Alright then." Dragora answered back, breaking away from his curiosity and fleetly coming over to midnight and summoning his sword.

"Be weary, if it fully attunes you may feel a little weak and lightheaded, do not mind it though it will pass." Midnight stated, walking deeper into the catacombs of the expansive structure.

When they reached the furthest-back room of the building, Dragora was feeling exactly as Midnight said he would, but he carried on, doing as his mentor instructed. He laid down his sword on the table, being assured that it wouldn't do harm. Midnight began saying an incantation and the sword started rising, drawing in the nearby magic and rumbling more aggressively as the conjuration went forth.

"What's happening? Why am I feeling... empty..." Dragora stumbled out, falling to the ground in weakness.

"You must remain strong! Stand and confront yourself!" Midnight yelled out over the racket, helping Dragora up to his feet and steadying him.

"O-Okay, as long as I can be whole..." Dragora responded. Looking up to see the jet-black scales of his reflection, holding Dragora's blade toward him. "I can't fight, he has my sword..."

"Yes you can, you don't need your sword! Use the magic you know to conjure up a weapon fitting for you!" Midnight yelled over the shadow's roaring.

Dragora held his hands forward and closed his eyes in thought. Bringing forth six halberds, each a different element. Dragora took up two of them, grabbing the ice and lightning infused halberds firmly while the others swirled around him, ready to be called forth onto his foe. The shadow wildly lunged forward, swinging with a mighty downward blow that dented the steel floor and knocked only the wind element of Dragora's arsenal out of his grasp. Dragora quickly countered, calling the other 3 inward to charge at the silhouette while he followed in their wake, attacking with calm and steadiness which angered the phantasm into a berserk rage, leaving himself open. The apparition swung down the three unmanned poleaxes and deflected Dragora's ice element out of his hands. Regaining his control, he thrust forward powerfully with lightning and retracted quickly, distancing them a fair amount apart. Dragora gave a grand sweep at the shade's legs followed by a strong vertical slice, hitting the ground and sending a wave of lightning bolts at the doppelganger, which leapt out of the way just in time and countered Dragora knocking him to the ground and broke his last spear while Midnight looked away painfully. Holding the sword to Dragora's neck, it brought it up slowly, as would an executioner, and swung firmly. Midnight turned his head to see what had happened, and saw that Dragora summoned a tower shield of earth and blocked the mighty blow, deflecting his oppressor off to the side and got up hastily, summoning a maul to his other hand. The specter roared in fury and lunged at the defender who was now slightly smirking at him, taunting by setting his maul on the ground. Dragora reflected the blow with force, knocking the shadow off balance again and swung the grand mace upward, delivering a fatal strike to the ribs, caving in half of the shade's torso, and he sat there watching it fade into nothingness and seeing the sword drop to the ground with a crash. Midnight nodded to Dragora and he struck the gem on the sword with ground shaking force. The cursed blade shattered along with it, dissolving into dust, flowing out a lone window near the top.

"I, I haven't felt like this since I was small..." Dragora said, looking at his hands catch a single tear as he felt whole once again. "Thank you..."

"Now you have no direct allegiance to any element, which now gives you the control of earth, light, and darkness, along with the others. You also can now truly be yourself, with no other soul trying to take hold of you." Midnight stated firmly, seeing the burden that Dragora had carried for so long being lifted.

Dragora could only smile and let his fatigue get the best of him, falling to the ground into unconsciousness.