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We glide through the grasslands, each long, swift stride taking us closer to the beating heart of the empire. Skirting past each town, we conceal ourselves from the wandering eyes of the resident dragonkin in the very terrain that they inhabit. Long, swaying blades of grass shield us from sight, bending away with each taloned footstep.

Tenbeak takes the lead and I follow close behind. The others spread ourselves out over the fields, divided into small teams. Those in the lead take winding paths eastward, leaving a snaking trail for the rest to follow. Our stealth and swiftness surprise me, the ease that we display in traversing this environment no doubt arising from instinctual comfort with the land of our ancestors.

Those few dragons that cross our path too closely are swiftly put down by a volley of toxin darts, left unable to speak their tale for some time. No waking eyes glance our forms as we navigate around the outskirts of Breeze, giving it a wide berth to leave nothing to chance.

It seems almost too easy. Between our natural quiet, the subtle songs of our communication, and an abundance of sleep toxin, we make our way towards the capital with little trouble.

I slink forwards, crouched and low, careful to place every footstep in Tenbeak's own. A gust of wind rolls over the plains, rustling the grass around me. I spin around, coming face to face with Ash. Her silver feathers ruffle in the breeze, having used the sound of the wind to mask her approach. Her expression is wrought with concern, but for a change, it's not over me.

"<Do you see them, Raze?>" Her song is solemn.

I know what she sings of, but I have given it little thought so far. "<The dragons?>"

"<Yes...>" She stares out across the field, scanning the nearby road. A carriage and its escort creaks its way down the cobbles, having passed through the nearest post station without stopping. "<They seem so listless. The villagers... their eyes are downcast, afraid. Uneasily watched by their nervous guardsmen, who seem ready to turn on them at a moments notice. Why do they prey on each other so?>"

"<Perhaps the soldiers know no other life. Loyalty is a strong trait in their empire. They do not often question the justice of their lord.>" I pause for a moment, weighing the meaning in my mind. "<They are not us.>"

"<It must hurt them, even if they cannot understand it.>"

"<Perhaps. If there can be true harm in ignorance.>"

She gazes at me, ebony pools cutting into my soul. "<If they choose ignorance, there can.>"

Her words are sharp, pointed at me, yet still remain relevant to the discussion. A sly use of words, exactly what I would expect from Ash, though sometimes I wish she would let it go. She does nothing for us by dwelling on what could or could not be.

I continue forward, ignoring her implications. She falls in line behind me, quietly following in my footsteps.

I have a feeling that the dragons are not well-versed in tracking techniques, but we still make efforts to stifle our trails as we create them. Those following from the rear are responsible for concealing the paths that we cut through the waist-high grasses.

The road to the palace is long, winding lazily over the rolling grasslands. There is little to deter us, and I begin to wonder if this was always within our power. If we do indeed make it to the palace unmolested, it would be a shocking display of Feithiro stealth and skill, and people would question why we never attempted it before. Indeed, if we remain so proficient in this terrain even now, how were we ousted from it to begin with? There is no record of what happened during the war with the dragons, and the words of our ancient elders have been bent and twisted with time.

It is a dark thing, to imagine that the wandering hunting parties that crossed the border, out of arrogance and spite, could have journeyed to the palace. None attempted such a thing, either out of fear or out of a grudging respect of my wishes... though they would never admit such a thing.

The sun dips low in the sky, covering the land in a web of long shadows. Ash and I sift through the grass, pressing through it with our bodies as our vision is shrouded in darkness. The only guiding light is the line of torches along the main road, lit by a pair of dutiful villagers to dispel the night. After a while of edging through the grass in near-blindness, a peculiar whistle pierces the quiet of the night. I recognize the sound, though most others would shrug it off as random wildlife. I press onward with haste, coming up to Tenbeak observing a side road that branches off from the main path.

It takes little effort to see what Tenbeak called me for. The rattling of armor preludes the arrival of a column of soldiers marching down the road, torches in hand. They are a fair-sized group, numbering somewhere between twenty and thirty. They walk without concern on the un-cobbled side road, but each soldier is visibly tense. Tenbeak eyes them with suspicion, peering through the blades of grass. We slink back as they approach, eager to avoid the revealing light of their blazing fires.

They speak to each other, though only I can comprehend their words. I do my best to translate the phonetic draconian speech into our Feithiro song-language, though it proves very difficult to do so while remaining unheard.

The two closest to the front are having a conversation, their brows furrowed with worry and stress. The second, a red-scaled one, speaks to the yellow one in the lead.

"We should have left earlier in the evening. We walk in darkness now."

The bronze one replies without turning to face him. "It took time to muster what we have, Sek'nos. We are expected at the palace in the morning. Or have you forgotten?"

The red one scowls at his abrasive companion. "We should stop at a station and wait until light. We could still make it if we depart at sunrise."

"We are still a full day away from the palace. We must make as much distance as we can now." He says this matter-of-factly, intent on ending the conversation.

The red one hesitates for a moment, but continues pressing his companion. "Do you think the empire so free of enemies that we may march in the dead of night?"

The yellow one spins upon his compatriot, his face lined with barely subdued rage. "Pray, Sek'nos. Tell me, who would strike at us at this hour?" His voice is raised, booming with anger and sarcasm. "The serpent lair is leagues away, and the birds are still busy licking their wounds. Unless you are saying our own kin lie waiting to cut us down? How would you know such a thing? Tell me, Sek'nos!"

Sek'nos recoils momentarily, caught off guard by his bronze companion's outburst. For a brief second, it seems the argument will end there. Unfortunately, the ruby dragonkin does not receive the anger well, and bears his teeth in a growl.

"I do not need to speak of what is readily apparent, Tiero. You are a fool. You duty blinds you." Before Tiero can answer, Sek turns to face the column of soldiers. "I ask you, soldiers of the south. Do you follow Tiero and our wayward emperor, or do you hold your loyalty to your closer lord, Prefect Zerius?"

A weary murmur arises from the soldiers. I catch a few snippets of their words.

"...Zerius is our true lord."

"He is a dirtscale, not worthy..."

"The emperor is absolute..."

"...no breeding, what madness."

They are deeply divided, and each side gathers behind their respective leader. Tensions are running high, the uneasy feeling in the air is palpable.

Tiero scowls menacingly at Sek'nos, his hands gripping the blade at his waist. "Sek'nos! You foul traitor! I will see you executed for this!"

Weapons ring out of their sheaths as each side prepares for combat. The soldiers themselves look unconvinced, merely led into this as underlings to a higher power. Their lack of initiative and assertion is surprising to me. It is as if somewhere during their training, the independence is sucked out of them.

Now we are caught in a dilemma. This will most certainly end in bloodshed, and the more numerous side are the loyalists behind Tiero. We might find an ally in Sek'nos, but he, along with his soldiers, may not agree with Feithiro presence in their lands.

We cannot sabotage our plan when we have made it this far.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and glance back to see Ash's reassuring expression. She has likely come to the same conclusion.

The battle starts abruptly. Tiero strikes out at Sek'nos with righteous speed and fury. Caught unprepared, Sek'nos is forced back, his blade desperately trying to come between him and Tiero's strikes. A rebel soldier steps up, deflecting Tiero's blade, prompting a loyalist to lunge forward to even the odds. It devolves into a chaotic melee shortly after, soldiers bringing weapons and fire to bear on their fellow kin with faces of cold resignation. The torches that once in their hands have been driven into the dirt or extinguished entirely, shedding precious little light onto the battlers, though bolts of fire sporadically illuminate the surroundings.

One by one, dragonkin fall to the ground, covered in injuries from sword and fire. Transfixed by the battle, I fail to react in time when a body comes sailing towards us, propelled by a particularly forceful blast of fire. Tenbeak leans back in time to avoid being dragged down, but I am not so lucky. The weight of the dragonkin slams me, causing me to squawk as the air is forced from my lungs. The sound rings out in the air, causing the nearest soldiers to turn their heads.

Tenbeak and Ash, realizing the situation, spring into action. Drawing a long dagger, Tenbeak slits the throat of the helpless, still-living dragon that lay stunned on top of me, before shoving him off with a grunt of exertion. Ash rises out of the grass, her hand swiftly retrieving a vial from her satchel.

"<Eyes closed!>" She sings.

She flicks the vial into the crowd of battlers, and it explodes in a bright flash. The light sears through the darkness with the intensity of a sun, though the three of us have turned our heads safely away from the impact. Most of the dragonkin stumble about blindly, though a few managed to escape the effect, including Tiero and Sek'nos who continue battling each other, with Tiero holding a marked advantage.

"Feithiro!" A solider cries.

Freed from the weight on top of me, I spring to my feet, dagger in hand. I battle the unwanted fear that rolls through me, sparked by the injuries I had taken from my last confrontation with a dragonkin - from Shen'zuka. The two loyalists nearest to us bear their weapons menacingly, while the others that have seen us begin to assess the situation, weighing the value of which enemy to fight.

Tenbeak explodes from the bushes, his dagger flashing towards one of the dragons. I follow suit, rushing out to engage the closest foe. Ash stays back, drawing her blowpipe and fitting a toxin dart through it in a single motion.

My foe wields a small hatchet, bringing it to bear upon me. A strange weapon for a dragonkin to wield, they usually stick to the elegance of sword and spear. It is more common as a Feithiro weapon, which is unfortunate for him as it allows me to put my knowledge of the weapon to use.

He steps forward, aiming a simple vertical chop intended to split my skull open. A mundane attack, and easily dodged. I weave my head aside, twisting my body to avoid taking the attack into my shoulder. The wedged blade whiffs past me harmlessly, but he pulls it back before I can attempt a counterstrike.

Because of our animosity towards the dragons, we have adapted our fighting styles to counter their unique powers. Our keen eyes are trained in methods to anticipate when they will hurl fire or wind at us, and to evade appropriately. However, it is difficult to put such training into practice due to a lack of willing dragonkin sparring partners. It is entirely theory. And now I will put it to the test.

My foe brandishes his axe, but my eyes are drawn to his free hand as he pulls it back. I anticipate the attack the instant he executes it. I spring, whirling, to the side, as a bolt of flame streaks towards me. The fire flies past my body, singing my feathers but causing no other harm. Following up his attack, he swings his weapon diagonally downwards at me. I bring my dagger up to halt the strike, a short, sharp clang of metal ringing through the air as our weapons meet. With my free hand, I slip a second dagger out of its sheath, bringing it up behind the blade of the axe as he tries to overpower my parry. Wedging it between the metal of the blade and the wood of the handle, I wrench the weapon from his grip, sending it thudding to the dirt.

Now disarmed, my foe edges away from me, looking for an escape. He flings his arm out again, lined with flickering fire, but I smack it away, causing the flames to shoot into the night. Pressing my fatal advantage, I stride forward, slipping a dagger between his ribs and the other into his throat. He grips me, choking in agony, and I shove him to the ground, my knives soaked in his crimson blood.

Tenbeak has dispatched his own foe as well, and has engaged another. I see movement on the edge of my vision, only to turn and see the approaching dragon flop to the ground, a dart protruding from his neck. Glancing further behind me, I spy Ash, blowpipe in hand, and she sends a wink my way.

The surroundings light up in a blaze of orange, and I notice with a growing horror that a pulse of curling fire streaks towards her. Her playful wink turns into an expression of surprise, and then pain, as the flames impact and slam her to the ground. Her cry of pain tears into me as surely as any blade. The grass smoulders, the smoke obscuring my view of her fallen form.

I turn to find the source of the attack. Tiero grins with malevolent satisfaction at the results, flexing his fingers to ready the next blast. I spot Sek'nos's body lying behind him face down, blood pooling around it. Something triggers within me.

A haze descends over my vision as I feel rage course through my body, sharpening my deadly intent to a point aimed at Tiero's heart. The feeling is familiar, recalling memories of my attack on Shen'zuka. I lost my head there, too, and I suffered for it... but it's too late to stop myself now.

I launch myself towards my victim, spinning past one of his loyalists and flinging one of my daggers at him in the motion. The blade spins through the air and impales itself deeply in Teiro's arm, having slipped neatly underneath the armor at his shoulder.

I rush forwards, my form a blur of azure feathers and crimson vengeance. His face a rictus of pain, Tiero flings fire at me in a desperate attempt to halt my advance, but I whirl and weave past each bolt, taking little more than superficial damage from the searing heat.

Slamming into him, Tiero's shouts of protest are little more than wet gurgles as I twist my dagger in his throat. Caught up in the rush of violence, I find myself revelling in the bloodshed, though I feel a twinge of remorse as I realize this. Tiero's eyes stare blankly back up at me, glazed over from near-death, his murky lifeblood flooding down his neck and draining into the dirt below us.

I rise to my feet and take a breath, surprised at my own brutality. I glance around the battlefield, finding with further surprise that all of the dragonkin lie on the ground, defeated. Teams of Feithiro emerge from the bushes, weapons and blowpipes in hand. They pick through the bodies, ending the lives of those that were simply unconscious. Brutal... but necessary, as they had born witness to us.

With haste, I rush over to Ash, finding her being tended by another Feithiro. She pushes him away and beckons me closer.

"<Raze... I'm sorry... I let my guard down.>" Her song is pained and halting.

Yes you did, Ash. I should scold you. Remind you that the battlefield is no place for cocky displays. But I cannot. In that fleeting moment of affection that had nearly cost her life, I realized how scared I was to lose her.

I glance at the tending Feithiro and wave him away. "<Leave us, assist the others.>"

He nods and heads to find another task, leaving Ash and I alone. I sift through her satchel, taking out several gemcut vials and arraying them on the charred grass, taking a moment to survey her wounds. She trusts me more than any other as it is her own shared knowledge that I will use to heal her.

The blast was significant; many of her frontal feathers are blackened from fire, some flake off with a mere breath. The skin underneath is burned, and will take time to heal. Her other feathers are singed and damaged, though to a lesser extent. It is with bitter irony that I note how appropriate her name is for this.

"<I bet you're thinking... how appropriate my name is... now.>" She grins weakly up at me.

Surprised at her words, I find myself wearing a relieved smile. "<Ash... you... are something else.>"

She laughs at my reaction, but the act of it pains her. Her face has thankfully remained mostly undamaged, perhaps she shielded it from the flames. She stares up at me, eyes tightened with pain.

She is... lovely. Her ashen gray feathers accentuate her ebony eyes, the pure silver sheen also serving as a backdrop to her short, rounded beak. Suddenly struck by her beauty, it was this moment that I no longer thought of her as a sister, but as something more.

Opening the vials in turn, I slather the contents onto my feathered fingers, dabbing at Ash's wounds and making sure to get as much salve on her burned skin as I can. She squirms and winces, but takes the discomfort in stride. Instead of recoiling as I subconsciously expected, I find myself enjoying the contact.

"<I... always wanted you to touch me... but not like this.>" She sings in jest, but with undertones of sadness.

I continue my efforts, my mind racing with words that I know will remain unsaid. Having treated the serious wounds on her front, I gaze at her, a nervous lump forming in my throat.

"<Ash... I...>" The words catch in my chest. I cannot say what I know she wants to hear.

Bolstered by my newfound affection for her, I resolve that action speaks louder than words. Halting my care, I lean towards her, getting in close. She seems skeptical of my approach and uncertain of my intent, though I see a glimpse of hope in her eyes. Cradling her head softly, I pull her beak into mine, interlocking them together and nibbling softly. She seems stricken with disbelief, her eyes wide with surprise and a growing excitement. She eagerly returns the kiss, our thin tongues entwining with one another, years of pent up frustration exploding out from her in one passionate moment. Grunting softly into my beak, she moves her hands to grasp my body, too stiff with pain to do anything more.

I close my eyes, finally losing myself in the moment. After all this time of fearing her affections, the barrier has broken. Instinctual apprehension still restrains my body, and soon I break our passionate kiss. She leans up to me, her body heaving with pain, her eyes begging to rekindle the touch, but I pull away.

"<Relax, Ash. You must heal.>"

Her breath comes in short gasps. She takes great effort to suppress her pain. "<Razor... why now?>"

Good question. I sigh, shaking my head but quickly trying to reassure her with a smile. "<Just lie back.>"

I resume my caretaking, treating her wounds with our healing salve, allowing these emotions to swirl freely around my head while I try to process them.

Ash stares at me in silence, wearing the brightest smile I have ever seen. Her happiness is reflected onto me, and I find myself smiling back.

---

I just think of Zu. It is my only solace.

Shen thumps against my bound form, his fleshy spear prodding deep into my insides. I crinkle my face in disgust at his musky stench. The feeling repulses me; I do not share in the pleasure that he takes from my body. I don't know why he chooses to violate me so... perhaps just to see me squirm in discomfort. He laughs, a sound I have begun to loathe. Hate broils within me, but I am helpless to vent it, silently seething in my personal hell.

His thrusting is vigorous, rattling the chains of my bondage and slapping against my scales. A symphony of sound, the backdrop to my cruel captivity. The chains hold me up, the ends of the interlinked steel affixed to the wall behind me. Shen roughly cradles my rear, his claws leaving bloody gouges as he lifts me up to invade my exposed tailhole. I can do nothing to resist, other than thrash my tail in displeasure, my arms and legs hopelessly bound.

I see no remorse or pity in his pure-white eyes. Only an endless void of malevolence. His grunts and groans of sickening, one-sided pleasure disgust me. I try to tune it out, though I cannot close my eyes else I risk a firm slap to my snout. 'Watch.' he would growl, wearing his cruel smile.

I have no spirit to fight back. It was crushed within the first night, with ruthless efficiency. I know that I cannot escape under my own power. Even if I were to free myself from my bonds, I am much too weak, now. I could not escape the palace guards. They are all firmly loyal to Shen. He has seen fit to place his most devoted subjects around him and the palace, leaving me no hope of subverting them.

Once again, Shen seizes me with ungentle lust, claws piercing my scales. Roaring, he thrusts deep inside me, foul seed erupting from him and into my tender interior. My rarely-used tailhole does not take well to this constantly rough treatment, aching and throbbing with pain, but the warm seed does provide a slight - though sickening - comfort.

Laughing with merciless abandon, he pumps and bucks into me, ensuring he has squeezed every last drop from his twitching member. His fluid seeps out of me and down my tail, dripping onto the bloodsoaked floor.

Finished with his perversion, he resumes his more gruesome treatments. Sauntering over to the nearby tray, he carefully selects which instrument of torture to try on me next. Blades, pokers and hooks are laid out, each one promising unpleasant moments of agony. Shen, eyes glowing with fascination, chooses one, and quickly puts it to use.

My blood flows freely, coating my scales and pooling on the stone floor, the crimson fluid mixing with the white essence expelled from within me. He explores the pain, the instruments of torture are just tools to satisfy his divine curiosity. I grow weaker by the day and I fear I am not long for this world. Tears of despair well up in my eyes, but I refuse to weep in his presence.

I just think of Zu.

For every cut of the knife, and every jab of the searing poker, my body writhes and cries out in pain, but my mind is elsewhere. Entertaining fantasies of Zu coming to my rescue. I had always been the one taking charge... but I would give that up for an eternity if it meant Zuro'ki would burst through the doors and put an end to this torture. My heart aches for his gentle, serene presence. I would give anything in the world to be with him again and away from this dark place, forever.

It is my only solace.