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The council sits gathered in the meeting room. All four of the prefects are present, their advisors standing proudly next to them. A pair of seats and a desk are placed in each of the four cardinal directions, all facing the golden seat of the emperor set along the northeastern corner of the room.

The room is immaculately decorated, with beautiful tapestries hung along the walls. Polished golden floors reflect the images of its occupants, the golden desks covered with colored silken cloth and a seal, each representing a prefecture. East is yellow, representing dawn. West is red, representing dusk. South is blue, representing the ocean it borders. North is white, representing the snowy mountains it populates. A half-dozen imperial guards watch the room, clad in metal armor, their silent vigil and steely gazes safeguarding the governing body as they converse.

Shen'zuka, Moonborn and Divine Emperor speaks in a booming, authoritative voice.

"I see no reason to continue this."

The investigation proceeded in an attempt to find proof of misrule in the west. Fortunately, the probing found only praise and adoration for Rel'zeo, including witnesses that testified to his exemplary rule. Lacking any strong evidence to the contrary, it was decided that there is no basis to the claim of corruption placed on him.

"Lord Tero, such unfounded accusations against my western prefect are poorly disguised as an attempt to discredit him. This is your first and only warning, do not waste our time again."

Lord Tero, a middle-aged bronze dragon looks on from his eastern seat, gritting his teeth in an expression of anger and embarrassment. I stand next to Rel in the western seats, and we exchange glances. I see the relief in his face, and he shoots a sideways smile at me.

"However, I see no reason that something productive cannot come from this gathering."

Shen stares directly at Rel and I.

"I have a task for you. Our neighbors to the west, the clans of the Feithiro, have been encroaching on our borders. I'm sure you know of this already." he nods towards us. "I have decided to act."

The Feithiro are a loose confederation of bird-like tribes. They are united by the strength of the current lead clan the Windblessed, and their chieftain, Razortail. They have occasionally stumbled across our borders, usually with stray hunting parties. They have been mostly harmless, but seem more persistent of late, increasing in number and frequency. Some fear they are scouts, probing our shared woodland border for weaknesses.

Long ago, when the first emperor Tung'ziru sat upon the imperial throne, the Feithiro were much more numerous, and held most of what is now the imperial west. These lands were considered imperial territory, populated by a scattering of dragonkin before they migrated to the capital. In a brutal series of conquests, Tung swept the Feithiro from the western grasslands, pushing them further west into the woodland valley. There the Feithiro took to the terrain with surprising aptitude, while it proved difficult for dragonkin to traverse. Unable to oust them from their new hideouts in the trees, Tung instead offered peace. That peace, accepted grudgingly, has lasted many centuries. It is believed the Feithiro still resent the loss of their territory, but at no point has it ever risen to war.

I stare across the room towards the golden throne where Emperor Shen sits, attempting to read his expression. His face sports a long, gold-silver mustache protruding from either side of his snout, drooping downwards for a few inches, complementing the braided beard jutting from his chin. He wears a practiced expression of neutrality, and I cannot discern his intent.

"You will act as ambassadors to these lesser beings. Find out why they openly break our law. If they are hostile, you have my permission to forcefully remove them from imperial lands. I give them this one opportunity for reconciliation, be sure to let them know there will be no second chances."

Lord Zerius, the southern prefect, rises from his seat. Zerius is an even rarer sight than a Moonborn: an ebon dragonkin. According to legend, The ebon dragons were responsible for the destruction of our deity, the Divine Dragon, Long Ren. Their betrayal of our patron has led to them being ostracized in imperial culture. They have no rights and little freedom, typically relegated to slave work.

Zerius, through a series of brilliant political moves, as well as the fortune of being a descendant of a current prefect, has managed to seal his position as southern prefect. Through displays of exceptional skill and determination, he has even managed to earn the begrudging trust of the current emperor. He has no true surname, as ebon dragons are forbidden to bear one. He stands slightly larger than the average dragonkin, his hairless face instead accentuated by the pair of horns protruding back from the top of his head, sweeping in a shallow arc to end in two sharp points. His scale pattern is an inky black, with striking white along his chin, extending to his underbelly. He is flanked by his severe-looking ruby dragon advisor, Tor'ko.

"My lord, if I may suggest something?"

Shen tilts his head in response to Zerius.

"In case the worst were to happen, we should be prepared. I ask permission to station the majority of my garrison in western territory, to safeguard our food supply and the capital.

Shen inclines his head at Rel, prompting a response. Rel ponders for a moment before answering. I get the feeling that it was a rhetorical question, judging by the serious look on Zerius and Shen'zuka's faces. Rel seems to sense this as well.

"That would be wise, we have few sturdy fortifications in the west, the extra manpower would be an asset if the negotiations turn sour."

"Very well." Shen intones. "I expect a decisive result in no more than two weeks time. This meeting is adjourned, may the Divine Dragon watch over us."

"May the Divine Dragon watch over us." The council echoes in unison.

--

I shuffle around my room, packing my things and preparing to travel to the border. A tap echoes on the door.

"Come." I beckon.

The door swings wide and Rel enters the room, carrying a small pouch. He does not wear his typical prefect robe, instead having donned his traveling gear; A white and crimson outfit of cloth, covered in vital places by leather pads bound with small buckles. A square of red cloth hangs loosely from his back, ending at the base of his tail and giving the appearance of a short cape, the imperial seal emblazoned in gold upon it. A breastplate of hard leather covers his chest, bearing the seal of the west, and he wears a silken red sash around his waist. A staff is strapped around his shoulder, hanging loosely at his back. My attire is very similar, the only difference being I lack the loose cape, and my sash holds a brown scabbard housing my blade, a fine imperial longsword.

Rel strides towards me, speaking quietly through clenched teeth. "I don't like this. Not at all."

I adjust the straps fastening my armor together. "This makes me uneasy as well, it seems as if they are already expecting war to break out. Are the Feithiro really planning an attack? They would likely be slaughtered."

"Or maybe this is just a diversion while Zerius prepares to attack them himself. Either way, we're caught in the middle."

I wonder to myself if this is political maneuvering by Zerius, and if the emperor is privy to his plans. A land grab into the western woodlands sounds good on paper, but aside from surplus timber it would gain the empire little. The lands further west are unexplored, perhaps they thought it time to discover them? The subjugation of a neighbor would seem a strangely high price to pay for such uncertain benefits. Our other neighbors would hear of such a thing, it would certainly reflect poorly on us.

"Just do me one favor, okay Zu?"

I glance curiously at Rel. He reaches into his pouch, procuring something from it.

"Take care of yourself, my fasra. If things get messy... I don't want to lose you."

Rel hands me a golden ring, the opening nearly the width of my arm, engraved with the phrase 'Vero Kirtortia' Ancient draconic... 'Love Eternal'. I blush, as I usually do when he calls me his fasra, his 'soulmate'.

He points towards my rear. "It's for your tail."

I twist my head to the side, following my tail as I swing it around, the tip of fluffy golden hair twitching as I seize it. Slipping on the ring, I slide it as far up as it will go, stopping a little over halfway up. It rests comfortably, and it's far enough down that I can see it by bringing my tail around. I smile broadly and envelop Rel in a big hug.

"I'm glad you like it." Rel says, returning my smile.

"I don't have anything for you, though."

"Just stay safe, if we get separated."

His worried tone unsettles me, but we place our fears aside as we leave the palace together.

--

Our transportation awaits us as we travel out of the main palace gates. A small host of imperial guards stands around the wooden carriage that will take us west. The carriage is plainly decorated, it bears the imperial seal on the doors, the windows of the enclosure bordered by curtains of red silk. We approach it, the bronze driver greeting us with a nod, his charges pawing the ground nervously.

Out of few creatures the dragonkin have been able to tame, the ornery tuko are one of them. A two-legged beast that stands at the height of the tallest dragonkin and weigh twice as much, tan feathers decorating their sizable bodies, three-toed feet scraping the dirt with clipped talons. Their black eyes glance around, seemingly displeased at all they see, sharp pointed beaks snapping with discontent. Only through a decade of training and discipline can a tuko be domesticated, their poor temperament making them suitable for few jobs. Our carriage sports a pair of these surly animals, the two of them occasionally snapping at each other and squawking.

A guard opens the carriage door, and Rel steps inside. I follow behind, sitting opposite of him, facing the rear of the interior. The door closes behind us and the carriage shifts as the driver spurs the tuko into motion. Rel and I sit silently, sunlight flickering through the windows. It is mid-morning, and we should arrive on the border just before sundown.

Time passes, the grinding of the carriage wheels and the occasional cry of derision from the tuko being the only sounds. Rel breaks the silence.

"I've met him before. Razortail, I mean." Rel's eyes look distant. "He was very polite. He wanted to renew terms of trade between the Feithiro and the west after I took prefect, asking for me personally. He was so courteous and well-spoken."

I send an inquisitive look at Rel, who stares out the window, his expression one of faint melancholy.

"From my interactions with them, I got the impression that the Feithiro were not evil. Just... different. I don't think I would wish harm upon them without good reason."

"Razortail... what is he like?" I inquire.

"He is a clever leader. The Feithiro prosper under his guidance, but there were insurgent elements challenging his rule at the time. He had brilliant blue plumage... and his eyes, they were like a void of black, but somehow radiated with confidence and kindness."

I step across the carriage, sitting down next to Rel, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You almost sound smitten with him, Rel!"

Rel flushes red, a look of guilt on his face. "I... well... he offered my choice of his servants for the night... and I uh..."

I lean closer to Rel, amused by his reaction.

Rel continues, a nervous quiver in his voice "I declined, but he... offered himself instead. I thought it would be rude to refuse!"

I laugh, ignoring the faint twangs of jealousy I feel. "How scandalous! Perverted lizard!"

"It didn't mean anything! I did what I had to do for my country!" Rel holds his head up, feigning a look of pride.

"And me? Do you lie with me for lord and country as well?" I ask with an accusing grin.

Rel turns and wraps his arms around me, the tips of our snouts touching. "No, that is all for me." I am pulled into a slow kiss.

I feel my arousal growing and I lower a hand to stroke his thigh, our muzzles nibbling at each other. In a surge of lust, I move my hand from his thigh into his groin, grasping tightly and feeling the shape of his protruding member through his garb. Rel gasps sharply.

"Ooh, Zu..." He begins to caress my navel, hand reaching ever lower until he is stroking my own erect dragon-hood through the cloth. He hesitates for a moment, and retracts his hand.

"Zu, we really shouldn't." Rel says, sounding unconvinced of his own words. "We're on official business, what would everyone think if they knew we were fondling each other on the way there?"

With a sigh, I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. "You're right. Besides, the clean-up would be a hassle."

Rel winks, face still flushed red from arousal. "We'll save it for later my fasra, don't worry."

--

We manage to keep our hands to ourselves for the rest of the journey, cuddling in the same seat. The sun begins to set. After a few more hours Rel speaks again, his voice somber.

"My father... he was poisoned."

I sit up straight, looking at Rel with concern. "By whom?"

Rel shakes his head. "I do not know. There are few whom were close enough to him to discreetly poison him, but his condition as he died... he was so thin, so ill. There is no question."

My mind races as I think of people close enough to Rel to dispose of him in such a way. I come up with few that are simultaneously trusted and physically close to a prefect more than... an advisor.

"Do you think it was Yul'ori?"

Rel stares, his eyes fixated on the floor. "I cannot be certain. After only a few months, Yul'ori died of similar symptoms. It's possible he was poisoned as well."

Slamming his fist onto the carriage wall, Rel's expression changes from somber to furious. He speaks through gritted teeth.

"If I ever find out who did it, I'll... I'll..." He raises his fist again, pausing before slumping into his seat, eyes closed, his hand now resting on his forehead.

I look on with worry. After a few moments in silence, Rel composes himself.

"Sorry, my fasra. Forgive me for that outburst."

I lean onto him, resting my head on his shoulder, he takes my hand into his own, and we quietly await our destination.

--

We rumble along the main road running west from the capital. This road, the western highroad, is the main route for trade and transportation between the western towns and the imperial capital. It is painstakingly constructed of small pieces of stone, assembled together to form a solid surface. Other carriages and wagons pass us with varying frequency, carrying passengers and goods to and fro.

Several villages and towns come and go during our journey. Farming villages, with vast fields of crops tended by dragonkin of various colors, with ebon ones usually relegated to menial labor. Post stations dot the road at set intervals, allowing travelers to stop and rest in relative comfort. Rel mutters the names of each place we pass by, as if he knows them all by heart.

Our carriage passes through a large, bustling city, which Rel reminds me is the city of Breeze, named after the soft, persistent wind that wafts through the western grasslands that surround the city. The streets are bustling with dragonkin going about their daily business, merchants hock their wares, lowborn children run about the streets, playing games with one another without a care in the world. We reach the central market, located in the middle of the crossroad where our road forks, one path leading north and the other continuing west. Rel calls for the carriage to stop, and steps outside. I follow, standing behind him as he observes the market.

Rel spreads his arms wide, gesturing at the crowds. "Greetings, citizens of the west. I am honored to be among you."

Several onlookers, having noticed us as we rolled into the market, drop to one knee in respect. Heads turn, villagers, traders, merchants, craftsmen. It seems every eye in the market is upon us as they all bow or kneel in respect to Rel.

A small gathering of citizens forms around us. A middle-aged azure emerges from the crowd, bowing graciously.

"My lord Rel'zeo. You grace us with your presence."

"Please, rise." Rel says, lowering his arms. "Oreh'yan, how fares the city?"

The azure straightens up, addressing Rel with a calm familiarity. "As well as could be hoped my lord, our abundant harvest has bolstered our trade, despite most of it being sent east."

Rel nods. "Any news on Feithiro activity?"

"Many sightings, but no contact. They seem intent on avoiding us, yet encroach on our borders every day." Oreh folds his arms, looking grim. "It bodes ill, but they have not proven hostile, and there is little we can do without proper justification."

"As it happens, that is what I am here to investigate." Rel gestures my way with a wave of his hand. "Zuro'ki and I are headed west to negotiate with the Feithiro, to ask Razortail for an explanation."

"Ah. I shall not keep you then." Oreh steps back. "May the Divine Dragon watch over you."

Rel and I re-enter the carriage. Rel turns, waving at the people gathered outside.

"May the Divine Dragon watch over you all." Rel says with a smile before closing the carriage door. We slowly roll away as the gathering of excited dragonkin begins to thin out, some stare in abject wonder, others wave eagerly, bidding farewell as they see us off.

The sun sets as I gaze out the carriage window, fiery rays streaking onto the scattered clouds, painting the horizon a dark crimson. Light fades as the grasslands surrounding us roll into shadow, the environment darkening further as we pass into the forest along the border.

Rel stretches out, yawning. "We'll reach the town of Evernight soon, it's the closest settlement to the border."

I stand hunched over in the center of the carriage, attempting to stretch out my cramped muscles. We have taken a few rest stops along the way, but this is the last leg of the journey and we have been in motion for over an hour now in the hopes of reaching the border town before nightfall.

I stumble onto the seat as the carriage abruptly grinds to a halt. Rel and I exchange confused glances. After a moment, we hear shouting in awkward, halting draconic.

"Carriage. Inside, we take. Leave now."

Rel and I rise to our feet, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, Rel reaching around his back to grip his staff. It's too cramped in the carriage to draw weapons, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared. I close my eyes and focus, summoning the will to wield magic for the first time in actual combat.

I glance outside the window, scanning the area. The light from the setting sun is obscured by the dense woodland around us, creating inky shadows pierced only by the pair of torches mounted on either side of the carriage. The armored red figure of one of our imperial escorts faces the head of the carriage with sword drawn. I catch a glimpse of a shadow on the edge of the road, torchlight reflecting off a short item of metal in its hand.

"I count at least two, three counting the one up front." Rel whispers.

"I see one on my side, too dark to see anything else."

The voice of one of our guards emanates from outside the carriage. "Come no closer, savages, clear the way or - ah!" A slight pause. "You... dare..." The thump of a body hitting dirt is heard.

Rel takes on an air of urgency. "This isn't good. We're going out there, but don't be reckless. On three, opposite sides. If things get dangerous, run."

I nod, moving to the door opposite Rel.

"One..."

My heartbeat quickens. I grip the hilt of my sword, other hand resting on the door.

"Two..."

Fear bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I grit my teeth and brace myself.

"Three!"

The doors of the carriage swing wide as Rel and I burst out, drawing our weapons. The guard standing near me glances at me, disbelief in his voice.

"My lords, please stay in the carriage where it's sa - ugh." A small sliver of metal protrudes from the back of his neck as he slumps to the ground.

Darts. Mind racing, I hurl a lance of flame into the trees, the fire illuminating two figures about a dozen paces apart before they take cover behind the foliage. The fire strikes a tree trunk, dissipating and leaving burning embers in its wake, sinking the woods into fresh darkness.

A figure rushes at me from the front of the carriage, a leather-wrapped club in his hand. As he enters the torchlight I can make out his features. Humanoid, standing just short of my height, with auburn feathers covering the whole of his body, taloned four-toed feet bare. He wears little more than a loincloth with small, colorful bands of cloth wrapped in various places around his limbs. A beak protrudes from the center of his face, extending a few inches before curving down and ending in a point. Jet black eyes peer at me, displaying a mixture of anger and fear as he closes towards me, club raised.

I hear a quiet thunk of metal striking wood, spotting the sliver of a dart embedded in the carriage. I whirl, throwing another jet of fire into the woods to deter the blowgunners as I move to engage my more immediate aggressor.

The blast of fire strikes a shrub, causing it to burst into flames, a high-pitched scream breaking the relative quiet. The club-wielding foe closes the last of distance between us with a leap, weapon arcing downwards towards my head. I weave aside, but not swiftly enough. The club strikes my left shoulder with a dull thud. Bearing down on me, the warrior raises his weapon for another strike. Pain throbs through my free arm as I swing my sword in an upward arc, sending a blast of wind up from the ground and into my opponent, showering his face with dirt.

"Gah!" The warrior squawks, recoiling and rubbing his eyes frantically.

Stepping forward, I slam the pommel of my sword into the side of my opponent's head, causing him to collapse limply to the ground. I feel a sting in my thigh and glance down, panic rising as I glimpse a sliver of metal sticking out. Another figure approaches me from the head of the carriage. I ready my weapon as the world begins to spin around me, my limbs growing sluggish. The figure strides calmly into the torchlight. His feathers are a bright red, with stripes of black decorating his eyes. The top of his head sports a flare of feathers, pushed up and back in an unfamiliar style. He wears a patchwork of leather plates covering his vital areas, a small hatchet hung at his belt, eyes glaring at me with confidence and satisfaction. He stops a few feet away from me, flanked by another warrior, grinning through his straight, pointed beak.

I lurch forward, desperation taking command as I clumsily swing my blade. The red-feathered one casually steps away from my swing, chuckling. I lose my balance in the action, unable to hold my body upright. I stumble onto one knee, dizziness and fatigue overwhelming me. The red one steps forward, placing a hand on my chin and directing my unfocused gaze upwards. Looking down on me, he chuckles before muttering in draconic.

"Sleep, now."

The ground rushes up to meet me as I fade into darkness, my last thoughts being of Rel.

--

I awaken with a start, my left arm throbbing with pain, muscles throughout my body stiff and aching. Urgency builds in the pit of my stomach, and I attempt to remain calm as I gather my bearings. I am in what looks like a tent, mostly barren except for some shelves and tables with rope and various implements on them. I try to move my arms in vain, as I discover they are bound together behind my back with a rope suspended from the wooden rafters in the ceiling.

The reality of my situation occurs to me. We were attacked by Feithiro, captured, but for what purpose I could only assume. Panic flashes through my mind as I glance around the tent looking for Rel. Unfortunately, I am alone, but I have no time to conceive a plan before someone strides into the tent. It's the red-feathered one from before, still wearing a smug expression as he approaches me. A draft from the tent flaps causes me to shiver, and I realize with indignity that I have been stripped bare, my garb and weapon nowhere to be seen. I note with small relief that my tailring remains.

The red one steps towards me, stopping a couple feet away before speaking. "Ah, you white-scaled ones. So high and superior, yet here you are nothing."

"Where is Rel!?" I bark. "If you have harmed him, you will never know peace."

"This white-one feels strongly for the green-one, heh heh. Your friend is fine, we would not kill him, we need him alive. You, however..."

He steps towards me, his feathered hand roughly cupping my groin as I gasp and shift in discomfort. He leans close to me, whispering.

"Mmm, so exotic. I think we will find a use for you, perhaps a treat to sate the desires of the warriors."

"Get away!" I cry, raising my leg in an effort to kick him away. He firmly grasps it with his free arm, resisting my attempt.

"If you struggle, it will be that much more painful. Submit!"

He forces his weight upon me, driving me into to the ground, his arm locked across my throat. His body is lighter than it looks, but I still struggle in vain to escape from underneath him. Horror begins to manifest in my mind as he shifts his position, his legs keeping mine pinned to the ground, his free hand searching around my nethers. I feel his digits graze and probe my exposed tailhole, and with his target found, he begins rubbing between his legs to hasten his arousal. My eyes glance a pink, tapered organ emerge from the feathers between his legs as he aims the tip at my entrance. My mind and body cry out in desperate fear as I struggle to free myself, disgusted the thought of being forced to sate the lust of this perverted fiend. I wrack my brain for an idea to escape. Magic, no, I cannot move my limbs. I cannot cast otherwise... I don't know how!

My struggling visibly frustrates my attacker, and he presses his arm into my throat in response. I choke, lungs struggling for air as I feel the tip of his member poke my tailhole. Every fiber in my body screams against this intrusion.

"Yess... You should be proud, your first service will be to Bloodfeather, mighty chief of the Cloudclaw!"

I spot a figure of blue in the corner of my vision. In my asphyxiated haze I assume it is an illusion, but it speaks with a booming fury.

"Bloodfeather! What is the meaning of this!?"

My attacker raises his head in confusion, before he is struck in the head by a flash of blue and sent tumbling onto the ground, away from me. Coughing and gasping for air, I am helpless as I watch the scene unfold. The blue figure leans down towards the fallen bird, seizing his throat as he rises and holding him aloft.

"Krrkk... Raz...or." Bloodfeather chokes out.

"Leave this place, I shall deal with your foolishness later. Go!" The blue feathered one unceremoniously throws Bloodfeather to the ground. Stumbling to his feet, his still-erect appendage dangling with each step, Bloodfeather quickly exits the tent, leaving my savior and I alone.

The blue-one steps close to me, coming into clear view. He has fine plumage, the color of the daylight sky, the feathers faintly shimmering with iridescence. A pattern of white feathers adorns his face, giving the appearance of a mask over his chin and eyes. His beak extends out from his face, curving downward at the tip only slightly, ending in a triangular point. The cloth garb he wears covers his loins and chest, reinforced with plates of hardened leather, his navel partially exposed. Staring down at me, his eyes are like every other Feithiro I have seen: jet black. Yet, they seem to gleam with emotion, his expression one of pity and sorrow as he looks down on my naked, near-violated body. He draws a dagger from his belt, and without hesitation cuts the rope binding me.

"It may mean little to you right now, Zuro'ki, but... I apologize for what my people have done."

"You... you are Razortail?"

He nods, casting a glance towards the entrance of the tent before looking down at me and offering a hand.

"Are you alright? I won't hurt you."

I hesitate before taking his hand, and he lifts me onto my feet with his gentle but firm grip. Still reeling from the experience, I step away from Razortail to give myself some much-desired space. I notice I am shaking, and I wrap my arms around myself in an effort to calm my nerves. My mind drifts to thoughts of Rel, and I long for his warmth, the comfort of his embrace. Razortail simply looks on with sadness.

"I am truly sorry. You are such a beautiful creature. To be abused in such a way...."

"Where is Rel?" I say, a quiver in my voice.

"I found him first, we split up to look for you in the camp. He should be here shortly. Please, you look so frightened, I will not harm you."

I close my eyes, feeling tears roll down my cheeks. I curse myself for my emotional weakness. I know I am stronger than this, yet I cannot suppress the feelings of violation and hopelessness I feel. I am slowly enveloped in a warm embrace, feathers brushing against my bare scales. I open my eyes with a start, finding myself staring into Razortail's own deep, ebony eyes. My urges to pull away are surpassed by my need for comfort, and I surrender to the embrace, resting my head on his shoulder as I sob quietly, ashamed at my lack of composure.

"Zu! Are you in here?"

Rel steps through the doorway, staff in hand, clad in his traveler gear, though a little worse for wear. He pauses, looking over the curious scene, Razortail holding me as I rest my head on his shoulder. I snap to my senses, pulling away from Razortail and looking apologetically at Rel, unaware I am still completely nude. Rel glances between Razor and I, a skeptical look on his face.

"Rel, I... I am so glad you're safe!" I say, embarrassment and shame shrouding my features.

"I apologize, Rel'zeo. Zuro'ki was put in a compromising position before I could arrive. I wished only to comfort him." As Razor says this, he walks to a nearby shelf, searching through it until he procures my traveling gear, which he hands to me. I spend a moment getting dressed, placing my sword in my sash, relieved to be clothed again, though looking rougher than before.

Rel's expression changes from skepticism to severity as he approaches us.

"Razor, this isn't good. If the others get wind of what happened, Zerius will certainly rush to send troops to subjugate the Feithiro."

"I fear this was inevitable." Razor says, a morose expression on his features. "Centuries of peace has made the Feithiro restless. We long for our ancient homeland in the grasslands. Our youth grow agitated, our elders bitter. I have tried to encourage coexistence. I thought I had made progress, but it seems I have failed in the end."

Our conversation is interrupted by distant shouts from outside. We exit the tent to find the source of the commotion. The forest to the north of us simmers in distant flame, faint sounds of combat ringing through the midnight air.

Razortail stands aghast at the sight. "No..."

"Zerius didn't even wait until morning." says Rel. "He probably assumed the worst when we did not arrive in Evernight."

"Not all Feithiro may oppose the empire," I say. "but they'll all be slaughtered regardless. We have to do something."

Razortail turns to face us. "No, it is too late. My people will survive. Scattered, and few in number, but they will survive. The true threat lies in what your emperor seeks with this invasion west."

Rel looks at Razor with concern. "What do you mean?"

"Our scouts discovered ancient temples, seemingly dedicated to the divine dragon. They are located west, out of the Long Forest and further on. The entrance was barred, and we dared not attempt to enter. Perhaps this is what Shen'zuka seeks."

"At the cost of thousands of lives... madness. Frivolity."

I chime in. "He is a Moonborn, like me. Perhaps he feels he would gain power in such a place. Our histories hint to such a thing, tiny slivers of the Divine Dragon's essence having been gathered and placed in temples to honor Him."

"I must go to the Windblessed, before the carnage reaches them. I will prepare for battle, for it is all I can do."

Rel and I match looks of concern and uncertainty. I ask what we are both thinking.

"What should we do? Return to the empire? Zerius is trying to rescue us, right?"

"Your empire has no love of you, scaled-ones."

The three of us spin around, coming face to face with Bloodfeather, flanked by two of his tribe-mates. His face is still visibly damaged from Razortail's strike. He looks bitter, but not openly hostile.

"We were told to kidnap you. A scaled-one claiming to be a sympathizer to our cause told us of your carriage. Leverage against the empire, we thought it perfect. We see that it was yet another ploy to destroy us."

"We... were bait?" I stare incredulously, as my mind beings to piece together the logic.

"To provoke the attack." Rel says, coming to the same conclusion. "It makes sense. We're young and still somewhat new to our positions. We have not made many enemies in the empire, so it would be viewed as aggression from the Feithiro. But who informed them?"

I can only think of one person. "Zerius. It has to be. A perfect excuse to invade, under the guise of rescuing us. Yet, they did not attack the correct camp."

Bloodfeather chuckles. "That would be due to us. We struck first and feared it was a trick, taking you instead to this auxiliary camp. It is a shame the events had already been set in motion."

Razortail turns away and begins to set out into the northwestern woods, turning back to us after a few steps.

"I must go and command the defense of my people. Bloodfeather, if you have any remaining honor, you will stand at my side. Rel'zeo and Zuro'ki, where you go next is up to you."

I walk over and stand next to Razortail. "I would accompany you, if you are able to guide me west. I wish to see this temple that the emperor seeks." I look over at Rel, trusting that he will accompany us.

Rel quickly steps into line beside me. "I would never leave you, Zu. We go together." I smile. It's almost as if he read my mind.

Razortail nods. "When we reach the Windblessed camp, I will find a suitable escort for your journey west. But is your place not also with your people?"

Rel shakes his head. "The west can function for a while without us, and, like Zu, I would like to see for myself what the emperor seeks to gain from this senseless invasion."

Bloodfeather calls the rest of his tribesmen together, falling in line behind Razor. "I have always been loyal to the Feithiro. I will not turn my back on them, even if we have misguided leadership."

We set off, Bloodfeather and his small group of Cloudclaw in tow. I am uneasy at his presence, but take solace in Rel and Razor being at my side.

--

Rel and I are out of our element in the thick forest. Few paths wind through the foliage, knotted roots and errant branches seem to strike out at us at every step. Bloodfeather and his compatriots have long faded into the trees, intending to gather others and meet us at our destination. Razortail remains to guide us, despite the urgency of the situation. I have not slept since my time at the palace, and weariness begins to creep over me, the dull pain in my arm increasing with the exertion. The few hours of unconsciousness from being knocked out was far from restful. I notice Rel slowing as well, our pace hindered by fatigue. Razor does not seem to take notice, pressing on calmly and quickly, picking the clearest path through the woods.

We walk quietly for some time, following Razor's lead, when I decide to break the silence.

"Razortail, how did you know where to find us? And why did you come alone?"

"I knew of the informant, and had good reason to believe Bloodfeather would reach you first. Going to that particular camp was a lucky guess. I was traveling without my escort, as I tend to do. Being alone helps me think. I didn't have the time or inclination to gather others to accompany me on the way here. Yet, it is a shame I still did not act quickly enough to prevent this situation."

I pause for a moment, my mind briefly flashing with the image of Razor standing over me in the tent, having saved me from Bloodfeather.

"Thank you, Razortail. For coming for me... for us."

Razortail stops and turns to face me, a small smile adorning the edges of his mouth. He momentarily looks as if he wants to say something, instead reconsidering and continuing through the forest.

It's exhausting crossing this terrain, dodging stray branches and trudging across uneven footing, even with our skilled guidance avoiding the roughest patches. We pass west of the combat, keeping our distance and heading northwest.

After nearly two hours of traveling, we reach clearer terrain, paths cut into the ground, branches and roots bent out of the way or removed entirely. The smoother terrain allows us to quicken our pace, and we soon find ourselves in a Feithiro village. The buildings are constructed into the terrain, wooden, leaved houses fastened to branches and the bases of tree trunks, tents of various size pitched in the clearings. Feithiro of varying colors run to and fro, gathering supplies and weapons while warriors assemble into groups around the camp. I spot Bloodfeather, gathered with a larger group of his tribe-mates a fair distance away from us.

A green-feathered Feithiro approaches Razor as we walk into the heart of the village. He speaks in the Feithiro language, trilling, whistling, and chirping at varying pitches. The sound would be pleasant, if not for the tone of panic discernible in the song. Razor responds with his own, calmer singing, nodding and pointing at us, as well as at the warriors gathered. The green one nods, running off into a nearby tent. Razor turns to face us.

"They have been waiting for me. I will be a moment. You are here as my guests, so have no fear." He points at a nearby tree house. "If you go see the healer, he can mend your damaged shoulder, Zuro'ki."

I nod as Razor leaves us, entering the large central tent. Rel and I look at each other, uncertainty written all over our faces. Various Feithiro make passing glances at us, and the occasional one glares, but we are left alone. I am uneasy being in the heart of these people that my emperor is attempting to eradicate, and I find myself doubting my loyalty to Shen'zuka. An emperor who defies tradition by allowing an ebon prefect, yet plans to extinguish an entire race without so much as negotiation. I am disgusted at the hypocrisy.

My eyes wander to Rel, who is looking somber. I have grown used to that particular expression, the one he wears when he thinks of his father. My intuition proves right.

"I wonder if my father knew of Shen's ambitions. I don't think he would have approved, but... I don't know. I never knew anything that went on between father and Shen, he rarely spoke of it."

I am unable to find comforting words as I nervously glance around the camp, watching the Feithiro prepare for battle. My heart sinks as I think of the warriors that will perish in vain on both sides of the conflict. I wonder if Rel feels the same, while worrying if I am unusually softhearted for my kind. I was taught to believe we were superior to other races, due to our divine ancestry and power over the elements. Yet, I feel no such thing. I look at the Feithiro and see... people. Not inferior beings, just another collection of people trying to carve out a living in this world. I doubt my own feelings, silently chastising my naivete.

I glance at Rel and gesture at the healer's house with a shrug, inadvertently wincing from the pain in my shoulder. We walk to the step-ladder leading into the house, slowly and carefully ascending it and entering the abode. The tree house interior is littered with various wooden vials, with a selection of colorful gem-cut ones lining the shelves that dot the room.

Our entrance is greeted by an aged Feithiro, his creamy white feathers showing signs of thinning, his eyes taking on a faint gray hue instead of the deep black of his brethren. I assume that he is losing his sight, as he does not react to our appearance, gesturing to a nearby stool and whistling something in Feithiro dialect. I comply, sitting in the stool while absently rubbing my sore shoulder. The healer looks me over, squinting his murky-grey eyes as he tries to discern my condition. He steps close, placing a feathered hand on my shoulder, gently moving my own hand away as he pushes aside the garment covering my wound. I note a veiled expression of surprise when his feathers touch my bare scales, but he hides it behind a mask of professionalism.

I look at my exposed shoulder, an ugly black and red welt having formed from the impact of the club. The healer examines it as well, before turning back and approaching an array of clear vials containing colorful liquids upon a nearby wooden desk. I look around the hut, eying the dozens of multicolored vials organized around the room. They come in all shapes and sizes, with small, index-finger sized ones being the most prevalent. The desk contains many instruments and implements that I am not familiar with, bowls containing bits of crushed plants, some spilled onto the surface of the desk, a small wooden handle laying nearby. Rel seems as curious about Feithiro alchemy as I am, his gaze wandering around the room in poorly-disguised fascination.

"You, dragons?"

The healer startles me out of my inspection, speaking in awkward draconic. I am surprised at the Feithiro knowing draconic, albeit rarely fluently, yet I have no knowledge of dragonkin being able to speak the Feithiro language, or if we are even able to make the sounds required to communicate with it.

I nod, unsure if the healer can make out the motion. "Yes."

"Hmm." The healer picks out a dark-green vial from a rack on the desk before walking back over to me. He pulls out the stopper on the vial, pouring a thick liquid onto his hands. My body flares in panic, and I tense up, images of the darts coated with sleep-toxin flashing in my mind. I fight the urge to stand up and reject the treatment as the healer rubs the green liquid onto my shoulder. Almost immediately, the pain begins to subside, the aching stiffness fading, a flood of relief spreading throughout my body, banishing the tension. Finishing his work, the healer steps away from me, wiping his hands with a stained white cloth.

He seems to be waiting for me to go. I stand, making for the door. As I reach the doorway, I turn back to the healer, who is watching me as I leave.

"Thank you." I say, pausing for a brief moment before continuing. "I'm sorry, my people will cause much undue pain."

The healer nods slowly. "I healer, I heal. Go, in peace."

--

Rel and I return to where Razor left us, as he exits the tent and approaches us. His expression has changed dramatically; he looks very sullen, his shoulders slumped. He motions for us to follow, leading us west to the edge of the village. We unceremoniously cross the boundary, continuing onwards without a word. I am confused, having expected him to stay and appoint a guide to lead us west. I try to voice my concern when Razor interrupts me.

"I will lead you to the temple. My place is not here anymore."

"Why?"

He does not respond. I decide not to press the issue further, feeling simultaneously happy that he is able to lead us himself, and guilty that I am taking him away from his people. Rel says nothing, looking deep in thought as we trudge along the western road. The silence leaves me alone with my conflicting thoughts and doubts as they whirl in my head. Should I return to the empire? Does this really concern me? Rel and I could go back and claim ignorance. Does Rel want to return to his duties? Would his father approve of my dragging him along, away from his responsibilities? I try to force the negative thoughts from me, but they cling to the back of my mind.

We trudge along in silence, each of us enveloped in our own stormy thoughts. The sun rises into the sky, shining through the forest canopy in a scattering of golden rays. We see several groups of armed and unarmed Feithiro as we travel, quietly acknowledging Razor in their melodious language before passing us by, glancing our way with wary eyes. The path begins to thin out, and we find ourselves once again trekking through rough foliage.

The sun is only beginning to set when Razor turns around, his face devoid of emotion. Despite his attempt to hide it, I can see that he is filled with a deep sorrow, and I yearn to comfort him as he did me.

"We will stop at a nearby clearing and rest for the remainder of the day."

Rel and I follow Razor to a small clearing in the woods, near the base of a sheer cliff. The canopy prevents me from seeing the top of the rock face, but the solid stone wall offers a small sense of security in the dense forest. Razor immediately begins gathering materials to build a fire, stacking a small pile of timber near the side of the cliff before gesturing to Rel and I and pointing at the pile. Rel flicks a small bolt of fire into the tinder, igniting a crackling blaze. Razor looks mildly impressed.

"Your magic is fascinating, but Feithiro alchemy is not to be underestimated either."

Rel sits down on a freshly constructed bed of leaves, wrapping his tail around himself and fiddling with the tip in an almost nervous manner, his eyes downcast. Razor and I sit on our own beds, watching the fire intently. Thankful for the rest, I lounge, dozing fitfully in the glow of the fire. The sun has set when I awaken from a nap to find Razor staring into the fire alone. I sit up, stretching and yawning wide. Razor averts his gaze from the fire and onto me.

Our gazes meet and we stare at each other silently for a few moments. I decide to ask for an answer to my earlier question, curious but a little afraid to hear the answer.

"Why are you coming with us? Don't your people need you to lead them?"

Razor shakes his head slowly, arms folded across his chest. "There are many who can lead the warriors, they do not suffer for my departure." His use of the word 'departure' unsettles me, and I press further.

"We appreciate your presence, but surely there is something you could be doing to help the Feithiro."

"I am. I will live."

A strange response, I hesitate for a moment, pondering the meaning behind it. Razor recognizes my concern and deigns to continue, seemingly intent on revealing the source of his troubles.

"The elders respect me as a wise leader, albeit reluctantly. They agreed to bestow a great honor upon me, though it comes with a terrible price. To ensure future guidance to our people, I must enter into exile, returning when the time is right."

Razor stands, stepping forward to tend the fire with a loose stick. After shuffling the burning embers a little, he continues, his expression one of melancholy as he stares at the dirt below him.

"This means I must live on while my people are nearly extinguished. It is an unpleasant feeling, but the elders believe it is the correct path. I shall endure for the sake of the Feithiro. Alone, if need be..."

For a moment, I am touched with empathy. Razor serves his people first, and in a twist of irony, he must let his people die while he lives on, in order to ensure capable leadership for the scattered remnants. The Windblessed have admirable foresight, and I believe the decision is a sound one. It's highly unlikely they will survive a confrontation with the empire, Razor leading his people to battle would subsequently lead to his pointless death.

I feel a bitter but determined sorrow emanating from him, tempered by the thought that his suffering is for his people, for the greater good. I rise to my feet, skirting the fire and approaching where Razor stands. Before I realize what I am doing, I wrap him in a soft embrace, holding him close. He seems surprised at first, but doesn't pull away.

"I'm sorry, Razor."

"Zuro'ki..."

I fear what it may imply, but I find myself attracted to Razor for similar reasons as I am to Rel. His selfless service to his people is inspiring and almost tragic. He is smart and handsome, and he cares for me. I want to make his sorrows disappear, but I am uncertain if I have such power. To my dismay, Razor gently pushes me away, breaking the embrace.

He looks at me with sad eyes. "I am sorry, Zuro'ki. I cannot come between you and Rel'zeo."

My heart sinks at the rejection, but I understand his concern. Recalling Rel's skeptical expression upon discovering Razor and I in the tent, I wonder if he truly was concerned I was being disloyal to him. Would Rel hate me if I did that to him? I remember the faint feelings of jealousy I felt when he mentioned what he did with Razor.

"Rel... where is he?"

"I told him of a small lake nearby, and he went there to clear his head. You should go to him. It is due west, along the cliff face."

I shake my head. "Take me there. Please."

Razor pauses for a moment before nodding his head. He strides into the forest, ensuring that I follow closely. A short hike later, we emerge from the forest to the edge of an expansive lake, bordered on the north by the same sheer cliff from our camp. The moon sits in the sky, its pale light shimmering on the rippling surface of the water. In the moonlight, I can make out that the forest thins out on the other side of the lake, a patchwork of trees dotting the landscape. We must be close to the western edge of the woodlands already.

Rel sits along the shore of the lake, staring into the depths. In the glow of the moonlight it is apparent that he is nude, scales shining with moisture. His clothes lie folded next to him, his staff placed on top. I walk slowly towards him, sitting down beside him and reaching over his shoulder with my arm, pulling him close to me. He leans onto me and sighs.

"Should I really be here? Would father approve of me running off, away from my duties like this?"

I struggle to find supportive words to say. A moment passes in silence before I respond.

"I did not know your father as you did. You would know best what he would think of you. I only know that he loved you dearly."

Another moment of silence as I wrack my brain for a way to reassure Rel.

"Zu... when he spoke his last words to you, what did he say?"

I still remember the night with crystal clarity. I believe his father saw what the two of us were, long before we realized it ourselves.

"He told me... to love you. To be true to you."

Rel sniffs, his eyes shimmering as he holds back tears. "He said that to me too. He told me to be loyal to the ones I love, above all else. Yet, I am filled with doubt. Did he mean to the people of the west? Or... to you?"

I close my eyes, shaking my head slowly. "I cannot say. I do not want you to fear for your people. If you want to return, I will stand by you. I am happy as long as I am at your side, Rel."

A long silence passes. Rel stares thoughtfully at the lake, a distant look in his eyes. I glance over to where Razortail was standing to find him now sitting on the shore as well, a fair distance away from us. The image of him sitting alone in the moonlight fills me with pity.

"Razor... he is all alone. He cannot return to his people." I mutter aloud. "I wish I could comfort him."

Rel sighs, composing himself before standing up. I observe the absence of tact in my words and scramble to change the intent.

"I mean he... he looks so sad, there must be something we both can do to help him."

Rel pulls me up to him, placing his hand in my own. "It's okay, Zu. I know you care for him, because I do as well. Perhaps more than I once thought."

I stare into his golden eyes, shining anew with compassion and a hint of mischief. Relief mercifully pours throughout me as it dawns on me that we share the same feelings towards Razor. I smile at Rel, and he returns the sentiment with a wide grin. We walk, hand in hand, towards where Razor is sitting. I feel myself already getting excited at what I expect to happen.

Razor raises his head, a look of confusion and amusement at the two of us standing next to him, Rel completely naked.

"Whatever happens, Razor. You're not alone. Never forget that."

Razor smiles, taking our hands and pulling himself close to us. He turns to face me.

"Thank you, Zuro'ki, Rel'zeo. You honor me."

I place a hand around his body, pulling him into me, muzzle and beak meeting in a kiss. Rel leans close, nibbling and licking at Razor's shoulders and neck. Razor exhales with pleasure into my muzzle, his short, pointed tongue swirling around mine. I savor his taste, running my fingers through his soft feathers.

I pull away from the kiss, Rel's muzzle taking my place on the open beak, Razor's eyes half-closed, lost in a daze. I swiftly unfasten my clothing, casting it aside before stepping behind Razor and undoing the straps of his garb in turn. His leather chest piece falls to the ground, exposing the striking blue-white plumage of his muscular chest. Soon after, his loincloth follows suit, a pink tip poking out from his lower feathers. My own meat pokes out from my slit, inching further out each second. I notice Rel is much further along, being almost fully erect, Razor caressing the length in slow, measured motions.

I drag my fingers up from the small of Razor's back and onto his shoulders, massaging them gently as I nibble his neck, the downy feathers soft on my lips. Razor breaks his kiss with Rel, leaning his head back, his breathing heavy.

"Zuro'ki," Razor pants. "I want you... Please. I yearn for it."

Rel gives me a sly wink, grinning, and I lower myself to Razor's rump. The short fan of feathers making up his tail obscures his entrance, and I push it aside to get a better view. Beneath the downy fluff of his nethers, tucked in between his cheeks, I spot a darker patch, with a ring of pink barely visible in the center. Razor shifts and I lean away from him as he gets down on his knees, his tongue drawing moist trails along Rel's dragon-hood, occasionally gobbling it up in his beak before renewing his licking.

Rel moans softly, and I hear Razor's muffled response, his mouth preoccupied with his enthusiastic fellatio. My arousal grows at the shared sounds of pleasure, and I dive nose-first into Razor's rear, flitting my tongue in and out of his puckered hole. I feel Razor tense in pleasure, a quiet grunt issuing from his throat as he arches his back and pushes himself further onto my face. I intensify my rimming, undulating my tongue and pushing it further inside. I am intrigued by the rippling texture of his entrance, and I slurp and lick at it for a few pleasurable moments, watching Razor squirm with every motion of my long, wet tongue. Satisfied, I pull back, the musky taste lingering in my mouth.

Crawling closer to Razor, I grab my cock with one hand, gripping his thigh with the other. My heart pounds in my chest, and I tremble with anticipation, eager to mount the submissive blue bird. Pressing my ebon shaft against his hole, I rub it gently up and down between his cheeks, an involuntary shudder of pleasure escaping my lips. Pressing into the gap, I slip the pointed tip inside, feeling his ring pucker reflexively before relaxing again. Slowly, almost teasingly, I slide my dragon-hood deep into Razor as he lets out a long, lustful moan, receiving every inch with pleasure. Pressing my hips against his rear, I drive myself to the hilt, my cock surrounded by Razor's warmth.

I glance up and see Rel, his head hung back, tongue hanging loosely out as he pants with pleasure, Razor now pumping his head steadily back and forth along Rel's shaft. I slowly pull out of Razor before slamming back in again, causing Razor to pull his head away from Rel's member and gasp in surprise.

Razor looks back at me with a wry smile. "Like that, faster!"

I comply, pulling out and slamming in once again and again, finding a comfortable rhythm with my aggressive thrusts. Gripping his hips with both hands, I pull him into me with each thrust. The sensation of pounding Razor's warm tailhole is euphoric, and I find myself rapidly approaching my climax. I force myself to pause, intent on making these moments last as long as possible. The night air fills with our gasps and groans of pleasure, the slurping of Razor on Rel's cock, the quiet thumping of scale on feather.

I continue thrusting deeply into Razor, stopping every few seconds to avoid a premature climax. I throb constantly, leaking copious amounts of precum into his dark innards. I hear Rel's breathing intensify, moaning in abject ecstasy as Razor skillfully fellates him, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue and mouth, stroking the damp, pink organ vigorously with his feathered hands. I cannot hold on for much longer, my constant edging driving me to the brink of endurance. I lean over Razor, my chest resting on his back as I begin to roughly pound his loosened hole. I wrap one arm around him, lightly gripping his chest feathers as I send my other hand to his nethers, gripping onto his dangling member, his own stroking hand touching mine. I sail over the threshold of orgasm in a few hard, unsteady thrusts.

"Ah! Ah! I can't... ahh, Razor!" I cry out, my body weight pressing down on Razor as I thrust madly into him, the sand underneath me giving way to my intensified motion. The seed built up inside me aches for release, and I push myself all the way as I rapidly stroke Razor, our hands intertwined along his shaft.

I drive myself deep into his innards, pushing against his hips as I shoot pulse after pulse of my dragon-cum deep inside his now slickened bowels. I groan and gasp with exertion and overwhelming pleasure, my face twisted into a rictus of bliss. My taloned toes curl as I rock my hips back and forth, quivering with my orgasm. In the throes of my climax, I grip Razor's shaft tightly, my hand trembling, stroking slower and more deliberately. Razor arches his back and lets out a gasping moan as I feel his cock throb in my hand; warm, sticky droplets dribbling down onto my fingers.

I hear Rel's grunts grow in intensity and glance up to see him stroking himself with reckless abandon, Razor's tongue still teasing the tip of his member. Rel throws his head back, crying out as he shoots globs of sticky cum onto Razor's face and into his hungry, waiting beak. Ropes of semen hang onto Razor's face as we catch our breath, our collective orgasms winding down.

My legs tremble with fatigue and I collapse to the side, bringing Razor with me, my arms gently wrapped around him. Rel sits above us, lounging in the sand with his eyes closed, a content grin on his face. Razor turns to face me, his face stained with strings of cum, a relaxed expression of happiness overtaking his features as he bathes in afterglow. I lean towards him, licking the fluids from him, the subtle yet lingering flavor slithering down my throat. Razor simply surrenders to my grooming, as a babe would to a caring mother. I clean him as best I can, leaving his face-feathers slightly damp and ruffled. Pressing my face into his, I hold him tight, the heat of our love-making still hanging onto our bodies.

"Thank you." Razor murmurs. "Thank you both. I... really needed that."

"That's what friends are for, right?" I grin, letting out a giggle. "Though I never took you for the submissive type."

Razor chuckles. "I rarely get the chance to let others take charge."

Rel shuffles in the sand, rising to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. "I just went for a dip, and now I'm messy and need another."

I release Razor and sit upright, extending my hand to Rel.

"Good idea, though I think Razor needs one the most."

Rel takes my hand, pulling me to my feet and into a gentle embrace. I turn around and offer my hand to Razor in turn, who quickly takes it and pulls himself to a standing position, dusting sand off his bare feathers. The three of us walk to the edge of the water, rivulets of my freshly-injected seed seeping down from between Razor's legs. We wade into the water together, swimming out into the depths, the cool liquid washing over us. Razor dives into the water before emerging a moment later, wiping his face clean of any stubborn stains. Rel spends a moment scrubbing himself clean before floating leisurely in the water, staring into the starry sky.

I lose sight of Razor again, hearing him surface behind me before feeling a pair of feathered hands caress my back.

"Let me get that for you..." Razor says, his hands softly scrubbing my shoulders, inching lower and lower, past the small of my back and onto my rear. His busy hands grasp my tail, gently stroking the length of it as he examines it with interest.

"So shapely. I envy you. And such a pretty ring."

I turn my head back from watching Razor to find Rel staring back at me, his face inches from mine.

"Need another hand?" He says with an impish grin.

Rel begins caressing my chest, slowly and firmly, his hands passing across my stomach and hips before reaching my groin. I gasp at the sudden feeling of his hands touching my genitalia, realizing with mixed feelings of dismay and pleasure that my meat has once again slithered part-way out from inside me. The two pairs of hands making their way around my body is titillating, their playful intentions only serving to arouse me further. I struggle to suppress my growing erection, surprised at the strength of my libido, but Rel takes notice and grins wider.

"He's so handsome, isn't he?" Rel says with a motherly tone. "And getting excited again so soon!"

I hear Razor emit a soft chuckle behind me. "Quite handsome, yes. But we should deal with his pesky little one before continuing."

A scaled hand cups my nethers, a feathered hand following suit. I grunt quietly as they coerce my dragon-hood further from it's hiding place, fingers prodding and poking, stroking and petting. Both hands begin rubbing me in earnest, my breathing erratic and heavy, punctuated by soft groans and grunts of pleasure. Having shot most of my load into Razor, it takes some time to build up for another orgasm, but that does little to deter them as they take to their chosen task with gusto.

After what feels like an eternity of bliss, I feel my climax approaching. I grip their hands with my own, and together we clumsily and aggressively stroke me to completion. I throw my head back and grit my teeth, my body tensing as another orgasm tears through me, shooting streaks of white that float in the water between us. The stroking slows as I pant for breath, my friends milking every drop from me. I lean back in the water, Razor wrapping his arms around me and holding me upright, Rel stretching out his arms and embracing us both.

We float in the water for some time, quietly admiring the atmosphere. My mind is blank, thoughts failing to take complete form as I lazily drift in the cold water.

Eventually, the chill of the water begins to set in and we decide to return to the camp, gathering our clothes on the way back. After a short hike, the three of us remaining naked to avoid wetting our clothes, we reach our dwindling campfire, stoking it back to a blaze and plopping down onto our respective beds. We sit and enjoy the radiant warmth, slowly drying off from our swim. Drowsiness begins to set in again, and I make myself comfortable, laying on my back in the nude. I begin drifting off to sleep.

"We should be at the temple by tomorrow evening, if we make good time."

Razor's voice startles me awake, but the following silence lulls me fully into unconsciousness.