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The next morning comes, it seems, after an eternity of dreamless sleep. My eyes open slowly, lazily, sluggishly taking in my surroundings. Memories of the previous night filter in, my feelings mixed and uncertain towards each foggy recollection. The windowless interior of the den makes me wonder if the night has even passed.

I stir in my makeshift bed, finding that the drug has had no lingering side effects. The fatigue from the night has been dispelled by the deep rest that I fell head-first into. Stranger than the lack of aphrodisiac aftereffects, is the lack of shame that I had expected to feel. As I relive the night in my mind, I notice how I never, at any moment, felt out of place, awkward, or uncomfortable.

Partaking in something like that in the palace would get me laughed at, and others would shake their heads in disappointment and disgust. The expectation is to keep those activities behind closed doors and to maintain at least a facade of deniability, for no reason other than to spare the sensibilities of those who don't indulge themselves in such pleasures of the flesh. They might act as though those actions reflect poorly on our race and our empire, but I do not believe that is true.

As my mind rouses to full consciousness, I note with surprise, almost disbelief, at the feeling of contentment that echoes through my body. A subtle, yet powerful sense of satisfaction, as if a large burden has been lifted from my shoulders, and my mind. Is it an effect of the drug? Or from the gratuitous mating? It leaves me with a relaxed, positive aura, and I find myself grinning at nothing in particular.

Ergh... my tailhole feels so used. So loose! And to think, I used to hate to be the one receiving. It seems that notion is hypocritical now. I guess things are different when I don't see it as a sign of dominance.

Lost in my musing, I fail to notice Satu watching me from his seat a few feet away. His presence is a warm comfort, and he is the only one in the room aside from myself. His relaxed poise and lowered hood gives me a bare glimpse at Satu himself, rather than his shroud as Satu the Umbra. Our gazes lock for a brief moment, scintillating silvery eyes peering into me. Flashes of the night roll through my mind, recalling amusing memories of him quivering with pleasure underneath me. I wonder if he was waiting for that opportunity from the very beginning. Or am I reading into it too much? I chuckle at myself, for entertaining these thoughts.

He rises to his feet, extending a hand to me. As I reach up, I notice how strange his digits look. Each finger is a line of striped flesh, running down like a ripple of plated armor before fading into scales at his palm. As we touch, I find them soft, silken. Satu notices my lingering gaze on his hand, and retracts it quickly.

Flush with embarrassment, he slips on a pair of dark leather gloves - ones I realize he has worn at all times before now.

I gaze at him in disbelief, grinning with surprise. "You can't be shy now. After what we did?"

He glances around the room nervously, eyes flicking to and fro before landing back onto me.

"Ehh, tass. Ssse asa... tas." He shakes his head.

Before I can reply, he extends his gloved hand again. I take it and am pulled gently to my feet. Satu's strength is hidden well, but I feel it behind his firm grasp. He stands only up to my chest, yet I feel that, despite his size, he may be as physically capable as me.

I feel a draft unfettered by clothing, and see with an indignant glance that I am still nude from the night before. Indeed, most of the residue of the night still lingers on my scales. I move to cover my shame with my hands, quickly realizing the ridiculousness of the action. Satu seems to know my thoughts as I think them, because I see him grinning at me and pointing to a nearby shelf, where my clothing sits folded roughly near a basin of water.

I approach it, seizing the cloth placed upon the basin's edge and soaking it, squeezing the excess water out over my hands. I take a few moments to scrub myself clean, ridding my scales of the stubborn film and fluids of my excess, giving extra care to my more sensitive... and used, regions.

Hmm, did everyone clean up as they left? Do they discuss it afterwards? Or, like the detritus of their passions, do they wash away the thoughts after the act? I can only guess.

Finishing up, I don my garb with casual indifference. It's not like I have anything to hide, now. I wonder if I would get in trouble simply wandering about the town naked. If they have pleasure dens right along the streets, surely some public nudity wouldn't be frowned upon.

I laugh to myself, amused by the whimsical thought. Satu stares at me, his neutral expression giving way to a smile. I smile back. He seems as happy with my mood as I am. I wish I could talk to him... if I work with the Umbra, perhaps I will learn more about him. I can't help but feel a growing fascination towards the little gecko.

The Umbra. I am still thoroughly caught off-guard that Sirilrai would offer something of that magnitude to me. They don't know anything about me yet, do they? How would they know if I would make a good spy for them, or indeed, if I would even have any interest in such a vocation? And would that make me a Serysian? Would they ask me to leave my home, to sacrifice one life of servitude for another?

That may not be so bad after all. I rarely felt comfortable before, even after I ascended to prefect. In fact, I am more at ease here after a day than I was after decades in the empire. But... every culture has a dark side. I hope I don't discover the Serysian dark side for a long time.

I sniff. These clothes haven't been cleaned. I guess that's one thing Hearth had to its credit.

Skandar strides into the room, donning a wide grin when he sees me on my feet. He folds his arms, looking proud and satisfied.

"Well, Lord Zerius? How do you feel?"

I can't disguise my smile. "Better than I have in a long time, Skandar."

He lets out a low chuckle. "I thought you would enjoy yourself. You sure looked like you did."

He saunters over to Satu and claps him on the shoulder, causing the gecko to wince slightly from the enthusiastic force of it.

"Even little Satu came along! He rarely takes part in those functions nowadays." He takes a step and leans close to me, whispering. "I think he likes you, Zerius. Don't tell him I said that."

He winks at me knowingly. Blood floods into my face, my scales taking on a scarlet hue as I try to stammer a response.

"I... uh... heh." Wha... why am I reacting like this? Curse you, body, for betraying my feelings.

To my dismay, Skandar picks up on my reaction immediately, letting out another low chuckle. "Looks like the feeling is mutual."

Geh... shut up, Skandar. I'm... I'm supposed to be in love with Zuro'ki. Not with a random Serysian agent. This is silly. I remain silent, my mind struggling to find a response, and failing.

Looking very pleased with himself, Skandar spends some time admiring the awkwardness of the moment, reveling in my uncharacteristically bashful display. Satu, unaware of the exchange, simply sits quietly and observes. Mercifully, Skandar changes the subject.

"Have you given much thought to our offers?" His expression is now tempered curiosity.

I shake off my embarrassment. "Some, but I have a few questions."

"Ah, I would deign to answer them, but I think it's best that Siril be present as well. He has some free time at the moment, which I why I came to check on you."

"Let's go see him, then."

Skandar nods and takes a step towards the door before turning back to me with a sly grin.

"Would you like Satu to come along?"

Damn it, Skandar. "... I would not mind his presence. Sirilrai did say it was him who suggested I join the Umbra. He has a stake in things too." My gaze wanders to the attentive agent before flicking back self-consciously.

He nods at me, turning to Satu and barking an order. "Satu, nes."

The little gecko springs into action, falling in line behind us. His face seems to brighten at the prospect of tagging along.

As we step out of the pleasure den and into the sunbathed streets, I wonder if Skandar would be able to explain Satu's earlier reaction over his strange hands. It doesn't take long for me to dismiss the thought. There's no way he'd know about a quirk like that. I don't want to dwell on it too much, so I push the lingering curiosity out of my mind.

We pass through the city once again, heading for the white marble structure. The layout is already becoming familiar, the clean, pleasant streets giving off an undeniable air of comfort. Before I can bask in the feeling, I am ushered back into Sirilrai's office.

The middle-aged serpent greets me warmly, setting down the sheets of paper he was perusing as we walked in. "It is good to see you again, Lord Zerius. I am glad Skandar didn't manage to scare you off. I was afraid he'd send you running away, tail between your legs!" He says this with a jovial tone.

"His tail was anywhere but between his legs." comes Skandar's snappy response.

I roll my eyes and let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound drowned out by their laughter. Satu glances between them, curious and almost self-conscious of what they're laughing about. Siril chuckles with sensibility, a stark contrast to Skandar's heartiness. They can be so crude, and seem so unrefined. I have never met someone in power who displays such willing lack of tact. Yet, I cannot deny their comforting friendliness and magnetic personalities. I wonder if every Khosrau and Viceroy are like these two. It's a strange, but heartening thought.

Siril collects himself and continues. "Apologies, Lord Zerius. Normally it is a bit of a faux pas to make light of what happens in the dens. You'll have to forgive Skandar for his poor manners."

"Poor manners, pah." Skandar mutters to himself.

Siril notices my dour expression. "Ah, I feel I should elaborate on the subject, to put it in proper context."

He clears his throat and launches into his explanation. "As we seek intellectual enlightenment, arcane, philosophical, or otherwise, we also seek physical satisfaction in very much the same light. To have one without the other would create an imbalance, which is spiritually unhealthy. It is as simple as that, really."

He slithers from behind his desk, approaching me as before. "Those who do not easily take to such... exposure... may imbibe the mixture that you undoubtedly sampled. It is quite relaxing, and reduces the tension. It also serves to intensify sensations and enhance the aftereffects."

That may explain why everyone is so lighthearted. I have not seen a frown or scowl since I arrived. I would never have guessed that the solution would be lots drug-enhanced mating.

Continuing his explanation, Siril takes on a serious tone. "There is no shame and stigma attached to participating in a night at a den. It matters not who you take, who takes you, or who you watch be taken by others. It is an outlet, an opportunity for intimate exploration. Nothing more."

"What of breeding?" I ask, surprised at my curiosity."Aren't there an abundance of... love-born children?"

"Ah, the mixture has the effect of minimizing the chance of conception. It is not perfect, however." He gives a resigned shrug. "It happens. Most take it in stride. There are rarely complications."

The entire concept is strange and foreign to me, yet I agree with the logic behind it. Especially seeing the results on the populace.

In the palace, I was forced to sneak around, seeing to my urges and desires in secret. While others would release such urges into a female, I was never permitted to do so, as I was prohibited from entering the breeding caves. I was also left with little variety due to the exclusively male population in the palace, and Dragon save me if I was caught with a commoner... not that I didn't try.

Here, they allow everyone to do it at their leisure, and even seem to encourage it. It's almost a dream come true.

I nod at Siril slowly, trying to display my understanding.

Siril's forked tongue flits out of his mouth, tasting the air. He hasn't done that before. A nervous reaction?

"I hope that clears things up, and doesn't leave you with a poor impression of us."

I shake my head emphatically. "No, not at all. I fully agree with your methods. I only wish my own people would see it that way." My bare honesty surprises even myself.

Siril smiles, the pale white of his fangs showing. "I am pleased to hear that. On that topic..." He slides closer to me, his eyes glowing with intrigue. "Have you made a decision?"

Skandar interjects, as if to curtail Siril's growing enthusiasm. "Lord Zerius has a few questions he'd like to ask."

Siril recoils, his tongue flicking out again. "Ah, of course. Please, ask away."

I stroke my chin pensively, attempting to phrase the wandering thoughts in my head.

"I need to know exactly what my admission into the Umbra entails."

Siril snaps to attention, answering the question almost immediately. "You will receive the ink of the eclipse, which grants them their unique powers. Only those of dark scale may utilize it, so you are fortunate."

Fortunate to have dark scales? This might be the first time I've ever heard those words in the same sentence.

He continues, answering the questions in my mind before I can ask them, "In addition, you will be inducted into the Umbra itself, though I cannot specify exactly what your duties would be. That is up to your future colleagues, and Satu. He is the current cell captain in Testral. He will probably want you to stay near him for a time, while you are instructed in their ways."

So Satu is the local leader. I wonder if I have been keeping him from his other duties, having him tag along so much... though, I don't think he minds.

"It's likely you will be required to spend most of your time in and around Testral, as well as assisting Satu with operations abroad. Perhaps you may still be able to attend to your duties at home. I only ask, if you indeed receive the gift, that you adhere to our laws regarding it."

It's almost a relief to hear them speak of laws. The ease and flexibility they have displayed so far has seemed almost unreal.

"You may not actively work against Serysia, or against any fellow members of the Umbra. We do ask for a measure of loyalty as well, but we don't expect fanaticism. Indeed, we would certainly not ask you to work against your home country against your will. You will be the first non-serysian member, so please consider it with that in mind."

The position of prefect is a powerful one, but I wonder if I would find more fulfillment as an Umbra. I never felt truly in my element in my duties ruling the south, and the thought of turning my back on this - on Satu - fills me with a faint regret. Am I really willing to throw away the station that I fought, tooth and claw, to achieve?

I cannot let myself be bogged down by doubts. I must seize this opportunity with both hands. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for my next words.

"I accept your offer."

---

I awaken, once again in the interior of the caves, on the very same bed as before. My body moves freely now, unbound. The dream with Ren has left me unsettled, agitation bending my thoughts into anxiety and negativity. I try to shake the feeling, but it lingers stubbornly on the edge of perception, coloring my mood with a tint of darkness.

I sit up on the bed, swinging my legs over the edge. Saral'ki sits on a simple chair, gazing out of the stone-carved window before her. The sun is just beginning to set, sending beams of orange fire through the window and onto the curved walls. I wonder how much time has passed.

At the sounds of my shuffling, she turns to me. "Zuro'ki... it has been a long time."

I stare at her, trying to recall the memories of my childhood. They come faintly, my mind unable to bring them into clear focus. Only one thing is a constant theme in my recollection... the face of my mother and her caring, doting smile. A smile that seems to remain a distant memory.

"Mother. I've missed you."

"You never came into the caves before. You're well after age. Why?"

"I've... been busy. I have had no desire to sire a child, yet."

"You sound like... your father."

Her voice cuts short and she averts her eyes, her words having conjured a melancholy memory. My mind brings forth many empty words of comfort, of reassurance, but I say nothing. She takes a moment to collect herself. Desperate to deflect thoughts of my father, I decide to change the subject with the first thing to come to mind.

"I never had a chance to tell you, mother..." I begin, "I've fallen in love."

She looks at me with surprise, "In... the palace?"

I nod, smiling as I recall the memory, "We met as little whelps, during our teachings. He was the son of Tsu'zeo."

Her expression does not change, "Son?"

"Yes... he is the western prefect, Rel'zeo. He is my heart, and I am his."

She seems to have trouble comprehending what I've said, which unsettles me much more than I realize.

"Oh Zuro'ki..." she begins, a subdued expression of confusion now on her face, "...why would you waste such sentiment on another male?"

I can scarcely believe her words, despite her gentle tone. "What...? I thought you would be happy!"

"I... there is no benefit in loving another male." She looks away.

"No benefit?" My voice rises in volume, "We care for each other as deeply as anyone can. He is the light of my life. He is always there for me, whenever I need him, supporting me in everything I do. I need no other 'benefit'." I practically spit out the last word.

She does not reply. I cannot see her expression now. I am nearly shaking with indignation, and I press my argument.

"Is there any benefit to loving a female? We cannot be together! And what good are children if their fathers cannot raise them?"

I bite my tongue. Those were the wrong words to say. Curse my snout! And curse my father.

Saral'ki says nothing, her back turned to me. I am oppressed by her silence, the guilt of my foolish tongue washing through me. By the Dragon, why did I bring this up?

"I... I am sorry, Mother."

I rise from the bed, uncertain of how to console her and deeply regretting my slip of the tongue. Remorse now enters into the blend of negative emotions swirling around my head. I decide to step out for a moment, to clear my mind.

"I will return momentarily." I say to the back of her head. I hear a shaky sigh as I exit the room. Curse it all, what kind of son am I?

I walk down the drafty stone-carved hallways. The smooth walls instill me with a faint sense of nostalgia, from having spent the entirety of my early childhood here. The memories are foggy - those that are even there, yet a feeling of comfort and familiarity seems to emanate from every carved room and hall that I pass.

The stone itself was painstakingly carved with draconian hands and tools; our lack of expertise shows, primarily in the parts that have not been lived-in enough to wear away the clumsy surface work. Most of the interior does not fall into that category, however, and some of the caverns have even been left in the natural state they were found in. Despite all this, the entire complex gives off an air of rough earthen comfort, and likely serves as a backdrop to pleasant childhood memories for the nobles that are raised here.

I see no children running about, and judging by the layout and furniture of the rooms, this is the adult living area. Those without hatchlings to rear are allowed to live up here in relative peace and comfort while they await a prospective mate.

Children... I can't believe my mother thinks so poorly of my relationship with Rel. She's... not wrong though, is she? I should be siring children, not spending my energy elsewhere... should I? Ergh, I don't want to distance myself with my mother on this point, but I'm not sure I agree with what she implies. Surely she understands that love is deeper than that. It's painfully obvious that she still longs for my father. Isn't that love?

"Hello?" A voice calls out from the room I just passed in my aimless wandering.

I back up, peering through the doorway to find the source of the sound. An adolescent ruby female, not much younger than me, sits on her simple bed, gazing at me with curious white-blue eyes that shimmer in the torchlight. The twin surfaces reflect a scattering of luminescence as if they were softly rippling pools of water. The strip of hair bisecting her head and trailing down her back is twisted into a series of small braids and brushed flat against her scales. Her snout hangs ajar as she scans my own appearance.

The room itself is simplistic. Plain wooden furniture is arrayed around the room, a few sets of clothes strewn here and there. It doesn't look very lived-in yet.

"Hail." I say, my voice sounding more faint and distant than I intended.

"Uh, Hail!" she responds with enthusiasm, amused by the formal greeting. "Are you the one that was fighting the soldiers outside?" Her eyes are wide with anticipation, already guessing the answer.

"Yes, I-"

"That was so fascinating!" she interrupts, unable to contain her excitement, "You were tearing them apart! Are all moonborn that powerful?"

"I don't think-"

"And you flew right in the window! I've never seen that before! Does that happen all the time in the palace?" Her eyes glitter with extravagant fantasies.

I try to divert her attention. "What is your name?"

She snaps to attention, suddenly aware of herself. "Oh! Sorry, revered one!" She bows awkwardly before me before continuing in her best voice of respect. "I am Aris. I don't have a surname yet..."

I nod my head, managing a smile despite my cloudy mood. "I am Zuro'ki."

A second passes in silence before she seems to lose control of her curiosity.

"So... you're a male right? I mean, I've seen some around the breeding caves, but you're slender enough to be a female-"

She catches herself, a hand snatching her snout as she looks at me with embarrassment.

"S-sorry, I mean no disrespect." She says, her scales flushing a darker shade of red.

I grin at her, trying to put her at ease. "It's alright, Aris. You don't need to act formal around me. Speak your mind."

My words appear to take the edge off her nerves. She is definitely young, and has likely not set foot outside the caves her entire life. Being cloistered has not dulled her feisty and energetic personality though. She has no surname, meaning that she either has not yet had a mate to adopt a name from, or has simply chosen not to.

"So then, Lord Zuro'ki - I address you as 'lord', right?"

"Normally yes, but Zuro'ki is fine."

"Zuro'ki." She gazes at me eagerly. "Are you here to choose a mate?"

It is such a simple question, yet I have difficulty answering it. Maybe my mother is right, maybe I should sire some offspring. Then, maybe, we would be able to talk to each other. We could find common ground.

I decide not to rush into things. "Not... yet. Aren't you aware of events in the empire? This place is besieged."

"Oh... you're right, I was just wondering." She looks crestfallen. Her desires are as plain as day. I briefly wonder if all young females are like this.

"I've come to try and salvage the situation, any way I can. I'm not sure what I can do, though."

"What do you mean? You were amazing out there! You could take them all out, easily."

She may be right, but it would be severely draining. "It's not that simple... I don't agree with what they are doing, but I know that they are just soldiers following orders. The orders of a tyrant, but orders nonetheless."

"So?" She furrows her brow. "If they're threatening you, or us, then they should know that we may fight back."

"I do not wish to deal in death. I take no pleasure from it."

She gapes at me, surprised and humbled by my words. 'Wow... you're so... amazing. Do you think that way because you are a moonborn?"

"I don't know..." My voice becomes sullen, my mind bringing negativity to the fore.

"What... what did I say? I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She averts her gaze to the ground, flushing crimson once again.

Snapping out of my darker thoughts, I pace over, taking a seat next to her on the bed. "It's okay, Aris. I just have a lot on my mind."

She glances up at me, a sympathetic expression on her face. "Oh? If... if you want, you can talk to me about it."

Our gazes meet, and I stare into the shimmering surface of her eyes. She is so innocent, so sweet and curious. I smile at her, and hesitantly, she smiles back. I decide I have nothing to lose in getting these thoughts off my chest.

I explain the situation in the empire, my role in it, and the responsibility I feel that sometimes overwhelms me. She knows vaguely of these things, but was not informed directly by anyone, and has been kept away from the majority of the fighting. I describe the events from the day Rel and I left the palace, up until I arrived here. I confide in her many of my fears and anxieties. She listens, transfixed, to every word. I tell her of Zerius, of Rel, and my feelings towards them both, though I leave out any intimate parts. My story takes a darker tone as I explain my worry over Rel's current state in the capital. She nods and responds appropriately to each prompt, and I find that my words come freely and easily.

I shed an immense burden as I vent these thoughts, feeling my attitude improve from simply speaking them aloud and into a sympathetic ear. I had expected to confide in Saral'ki, but I find myself enjoying Aris's company instead. Fearing the proximity of it, I elect not to mention any of my concerns over my mother.

As I wrap up my story, Aris softly places a hand on my leg. "You are strong, Zuro'ki. Strong and smart. A lesser dragonkin would have crumpled under the stress."

Would they have? I don't know. "I am not so special..."

"Yes you are. I've seen the other males that come here. They are shallow and base. They do not think of things the way you do. There is so much more to you than them. And I don't mean your divine power."

Skepticism rages through me, causing me to mentally refute the gentle compliments. I say nothing, trying to look lost in thought. She cannot judge the other males purely based on her limited experience with them. They are probably just as strong as me, if not more. Perhaps she speaks from jealousy, over not having been chosen as a mate yet... ergh, shame on me, for thinking such critical thoughts.

A moment passes in silence, her words sinking into the air.

I rise from my seat on the bed, giving her the most genuine smile I can manage. "Thank you for listening to me, Aris. You have lightened my heart."

I make for the door.

"Wait!" Aris cries, the panic in her voice audible.

I turn back to her, looking on with concern.

"Just, stay a while longer?" Her voice has a faintly pleading air. "I get lonely up here while the others fight. I don't want to talk to the other females. I want to talk... to you."

Touched by her feelings, I stride back over to the bed. My concerns over the siege fade away at her soft, pleading expression.

"I would love to stay, Aris."

---

"I am very relieved to hear that."

Siril's words echo in my mind as I am escorted into an unlit building; a single, short banner is draped next to the door, depicting a stylized, slitted eye. I slink into the inky darkness with Satu at the fore. He leads me by his gloved hand, squeezing it softly and guiding me inside as I reflect on the exchange that followed between Siril, Skandar and I.

Siril's countenance seemed to lighten dramatically after my acceptance. The tension that had weighed on him in those brief moments seemed to melt away. He continued the discussion with earnest enthusiasm.

In agreeing to join the Umbra, I implicitly accepted their offer of help as well. We drew out brief plans for an assault on the capital, exchanging ideas, discussing the terms of their assistance, and outlining which villages and towns will fall under their jurisdiction. I told them that I have no true control over the eastern prefecture, but that once Shen was gone, there would be a temporary power vacuum and Tero'rui would be mostly helpless to halt Serysian occupation.

In addition, I gave my approval that, should Tero'rui or anyone else attempt to oust the Serysians, that they may seize their goals with force. This seemed to satisfy them, though they seemed reluctant to resort to violence. Siril phrased it so carefully, talking about 'expediting infrastructure', but I knew what he meant. I found that I no longer cared. I was eager to start my new life as an agent of the Umbra. To see where my skills and talent would take me among these people. It is easy to forget what is happening with Shen while I am faced with a new, brighter future. Those concerns seem so distant, now.

The pitch-black room radiates with the warmth of several figures, my eyes unable to perceive them in the all-encompassing darkness. I am pressed down onto a stool, slouching slightly with no back to rest myself on. My clothes are removed gently, methodically, my mind occupied by errant thoughts unfettered by my sightless vision. A voice cuts through the darkness, an inarticulate tongue attempting to wrap itself around the words of my native language.

"I Ordin-sa. I apply ink. It hurt. Be braced, be still."

I can barely process the words before a sharp, searing pain lances through my shoulder. It fades as quickly as it appears, replaced by the same pain an inch away. Again, the pain jumps from one spot to another, tracing a path through my scales. I grit my teeth, holding my cries of pain inside my chest, wincing and tensing involuntarily with each prick of the needle. It only - very briefly - pierces into the surface before withdrawing, yet the pain is intense.

This goes on for some time, the agonizing pinpricks rippling over the entirety of my body. The needle makes its stinging journey over me, methodically piercing around my back, front, and tail, down my arms, and across my legs. By the time it has reached my head, I have adjusted to its ungentle point, the metal thrusting dully into my unflinching snout.

Finally, the needle ceases its assault, leaving my body vibrating from the intrusion. The silence of the room is deafening, the unseen others in the room not letting out so much as a breath.

The change is slow, my efforts focused on enduring the lingering discomfort. It begins as the shadows in the room seem to lessen. No... not lessen. Become clearer. I begin to see... through them. Dark shapes are arrayed around me, gradually coming into greater focus. My vision does not become brighter, as I initially thought. Instead, it feels more as if I'm peering through the shadows, my eyes making out the shapes that are wrapped in the blackness as if there were a thin blanket pressed over the environment.

As the ink settles into my scales, the room comes into clear view before me, my perceptions no longer hindered by the darkness. I glance around, my gaze flitting between each member of the Umbra standing next to me before finally resting on Satu. He holds a bundle of dark clothing with a pair of weapons crossed overtop. He offers it to me, pride and happiness beaming in his shadowed expression. I reach my hands out to take them, only to be shocked at the deep black that my scales have become.

I glance down at myself, marveling at the effects of the ink. All of my ebon scales have turned a shade darker, now having a hue of blackest night, while the white scales on my belly have turned to a dull, gloomy grey. It's surprising and a little unnerving, and I wonder briefly if such an effect could be reversed.

With as much respect as I can muster, I receive the bundle from Satu, taking a few moments to don the clothing. It is the same that every Umbra wears; dark folds of skillfully weaved fabric, loose, but not overly so. Just enough to be comfortable and maneuverable.

The pair of weapons are something I have not seen before. They are designed to be held in a fist, but the blades stick upwards, perpendicular to the horizontal grip... as if I am supposed to punch and strike with them, as lethal extensions of my hands. I am comfortable with my spear, as I have used one for so long, but I'm very eager to learn how to use these exotic weapons. I wonder why these particular instruments were chosen for me. The other Umbra I've seen use a sword and dagger in unison. I decide not to question it further.

"There. New Umbra. Teach, now."

I turn to face the voice known as Ordin-sa. Able to make out her features in the darkness, I find that she is a very aging example of Satu's people. The similar appearance is uncanny, but where Satu has glossy, dark scales, Ordin-sa has cracked, weathered ones. It even appears as if the ink in them is fading, absent of the deep, encompassing darkness typical of the other Umbra.

Satu rests a gloved hand on my shoulder and I turn back to his smiling visage.

"Zerius, se Umbra. Se ses!"

I can't comprehend what he says, but I understand the friendly, welcoming tone. I return his smile.

"Thank you. I am honored."

No fanfare or celebration accompany this event. Only a moment of silent reverence before I am led out of the building to begin a brief introduction to my powers.

---

The siege outside seems to have drawn to a stalemate, the females at ground level ensuring every entrance remains sealed, despite the soldiers increasing efforts. The only fighting that occurs are skirmishes at the windows, the defenders and attackers eagerly trading fire but accomplishing little. The females could hold out for weeks or even months, assuming their food supply holds out. I admire their tenacity; perhaps they didn't need my help after all.

Aris and I talk for what seems like hours. I tell her of my duties as advisor, the life at the palace, my childhood, and everything in between. She seems happy to listen, my words sating her powerful curiosity. I manage to pry some stories out of her as well, though she speaks with an air of self-consciousness. She tells me her dreams, her desires, and the responsibilities she believes she has as a young female, among other things. Though we are both still young and relatively inexperienced at life, our conversations are rich enough to occupy us well into the night.

She has a snappy sense of wit, though she seemed reluctant to reveal it until she was very comfortable with me. For a ruby dragonkin, she has the intellect to match an azure, though almost everything about her glows with the ferocity typical of one of her scales. I feel a connection with her that I have not felt for a long time... not since that day in the garden after I met Rel...

Late into the night, we finally run out of subjects to talk about. Our conversation becomes thin, before petering out entirely. Several periods of silence pass as Aris shifts uncomfortably on the bed. I begin to worry if I am now making her uneasy with my presence, and I rise to my feet.

"It's late..." I begin, though I let the words hang in the air for a moment.

Aris nods at me, tension evident on her face. I stare at her, noting the silent, pleading look in her eyes. My worrying makes way for understanding as I quickly realize the true cause of her anxiety.

I've made a friend here tonight. Perhaps I should take it further, and fulfill both of our desires. My mind drifts to the words of my mother, and her implied wishes.

Perhaps... perhaps I will.

My eyes lock onto Aris's own, my face reflected in her scintillating pools. As she talked of them, her dreams and desires always arose from the same source. The urge to find a mate. In her, I see that urge reflected in myself, though the feeling is unfamiliar. It emerges from deep within me, an instinct that I have denied for years; the deep-seated desire to take a mate and produce offspring of my own. It is a different feeling from my love of Rel. It is a separate part of my soul that thirsts and requires quenching.

I see the opportunity before me, as does my underlying instinct. Slowly, inexorably, I feel my inner self grip me and guide me towards its desired outcome.

"Aris..." I wait for her response.

"Yes, Zuro'ki?" Her voice is nearly vibrating with anticipation as she rises to her feet alongside me, our gazes never straying from one another.

"Would you like to be my mate for the night?"

Her face alights with the brightest smile I have ever seen grace a draconian snout. "Zuro'ki, I-I would be honored!"

I turn away for a brief moment, approaching the entrance to the room and closing the curtain that serves as the door. As I spin back around, I am forced back a step as Aris nearly leaps into my arms, embracing me in a big, heartfelt hug. I return it with much more gentle, but no less meaningful, affection.

"They would never pick me. Said I was too young, too 'exuberant'. Can you believe that?"

I let out a light chuckle. "I can."

"Tch! What do they know?" She fakes a frown, and then smiles, pressing her face into my shoulder and gripping me tightly. We stand there for a moment, letting the feeling of our touch sink in.

Pulling her head from my shoulder, she gazes at me, both excited and nervous. I feel her heartbeat through her chest as it begins to quicken its thumping in anticipation.

She presses her snout against mine, leaving warm trails as she laps gently at my lips with her warm tongue. In the middle of a lick, I open my maw, sending a strike of my tongue that brushes against her own. She does not hesitate as she pushes herself into me, our muzzles interlocking, tongues slipping in and around our mouths in a playful battle.

Her taste is exquisite! It ignites a fire within me, stirring my loins and quickening my heartbeat. My hands probe her slender body, exploring the folds of her clothing, trying to gain entrance with startling urgency. Her own hands follow suit, caressing the fabric of my robes, sneaking underneath the leather plates of armor and searching for an entrance to my bare underscales.

Our breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps, the heat of our affections washing over our faces and lingering in a hot haze. Our clumsy, aimless fondling proves futile and I decide to take command. Bringing my hands back, I brush them against her adventurous, scaly digits, trying to guide them to the knots and seams that will unlock with her touch.

My garb is loosened with each motion of her hands before finally falling to the ground, leather plates and all. She pulls away from our kiss momentarily, her eyes gracing my form, drinking in every inch of my bare scales. My ebony member peeks out of its slitted crevasse, and Aris stares at it with awe.

"Ooh, look at that." She whispers.

She kneels down, placing a hand on my groin. She pokes curiously with her thumb, dragging the digit up to the tip of my emerging shaft. I stifle a moan and my member accelerates its journey outward in response. She watches as it becomes fully erect before renewing her efforts to study this fascinating, newfound organ.

I bite my lip, my body tight with tension from every poke and prod of her fingers. As she examines my dragon-hood, her snout drifts ever closer to it. I feel her breath on my sensitive flesh, and I can barely restrain myself.

"L-lick it." I manage to stutter between breaths.

She looks up at me curiously, her snout bending into a mischievous grin when she notices the expression behind my plea.

She opens her mouth, the gaping maw drifting close to my shaft. I can feel the heat of it on my twitching meat and I struggle to maintain composure. Her eyes stare up at me the whole time, her wide mouth pulled into an expression of amusement. She's enjoying this torture, the tarty little dragon!

Before I can enact any justice for this, my body blazes with stimulation from the wet tongue gliding up my shaft.

"Ohh, gods!" My breath hisses past gritted teeth.

Another lick, this one less of a surprise. Aris's tongue coils around my meat, gliding up and down and swirling around, causing me to tense and writhe from the onslaught of pleasure that she unleashes within me. My knuckles begin to ache from clenching my hands so tightly. After another slow lick, she guides my entire length into her mouth, suckling it while continuing to stroke it with her tongue. I am lost in a sea of pleasure, my cock throbbing helplessly and dripping copious amounts of precum into her warm, wet snout. How can she be so talented at this...?

"Gah, stop, stop." I push her head away, trying to avoid sending my seed down her throat.

She obeys, my excited cock slipping out of her mouth. I take a moment to catch my breath and collect myself. She seems to realize my intent and rises to her feet with a look of playful lust.

"No use wasting your donation, I get it." She saunters closer to her bed, sweeping the covers with a hand, though her voice betrays her trepidation. "Then I guess it's my turn?"

I stare, transfixed by her awkward, yet sinuous movements. She keeps her back turned to me, her robes slipping off her shoulders, leaving the wrap of fabric around her lower regions as her only clothing. Her tail sways slowly back and forth and my eyes fantasize over what may be underneath.

She cranes her neck backwards and gazes at me, her scales flushing a deep red as she fiddles with her remaining strip of clothing. I hear her take a soft, trembling breath, as she lets her loincloth fall to the floor.

Now it's my turn to relish in her naked, exposed form. My eyes graze across the surface of her scales, darting between each curve and crest. Her body is slim and youthful, the muscles underneath the red scales knowing no wear or age. Her tail stops its lazy wagging, the thick appendage now holding firm between her legs and obscuring any potential, titillating view.

Slowly, apprehensively, she turns around, her face burning with self-consciousness. My gaze flicks around her flat, exposed chest, relishing in the yellow tinge of her belly scales. I spend only a brief moment appreciating her figure before my eyes are drawn and fixated on the quivering folds between her legs. The entrance to her depths glistens with moisture, parting ever so slightly to reveal the black void within. The sight of her tenderness causes my instincts to vigorously take over, my judgement completely and irreversibly clouded with arousal.

"Well... what-" Aris begins to speak, but I interrupt her as I stride forward, my steps full of purpose.

I press her to the bed, leaning over her and seizing her muzzle with my own. Grunts of pleasure escape our mouths as I press my shaft against the moist lips of her entrance. The scales are soft on the outside, giving way to the silken pink flesh of her warm interior. I slide my tip past the gateway and I feel her tense and gasp in excitement, her mouth hanging open as she waits, paralyzed, for me to continue. I nip at her shoulders, eliciting more elated breaths from her, and then slowly guide the rest of my length into her depths.

Her warm, glistening walls press and pull at my member as it enters, my face twisting into a grimace of pleasure. After a moment to adjust to the sensation, Aris licks at my chin and I respond in kind, our tongues renewing their graceful dance, twirling and battling each other, our breath hot in the air.

Pulling out in one long, quivering motion, I thrust into her again, causing another crackling wave of ecstasy to shoot through our bodies. Again and again, I slide in and out, each pump like a pebble in a pond, sending ripples of the deepest pleasure rolling through our heaving bodies. The scent of her fluids wafts into my nostrils, stoking the fires of arousal and driving me wild with desire.

Building up a steady but vigorous rhythm, I probe into her with increasing ferocity, our scales beginning to slap together with each thrust. Built up from her earlier stimulation, I feel myself already approaching my climax, driven on by the pressing of her depths and the sweet moans of her mouth.

Our grunts and groans reach a feverish pitch, my tail thrashing about as I repeatedly slam myself deep inside her, my tip poking into her furthest reaches. Our bodies writhe against one another, our tongues clumsily lapping and licking at our snouts, each action lost in the roiling sea of our euphoria.

The burning desire reaches its peak. I plow vigorously into her, all pretense of gentleness gone as my panting turns into one long, continuous moan. Aris squeaks and squeals with each vicious pound of my shaft. Her slick walls clamp down on me, my moan rising in pitch as I sail headfirst into sweet release.

Each pulse of my cock is accentuated by the urgent pressing of her pink innards, ropes of seed firing into her depths with each agonizing throb. The smooth, encompassing flesh around my dragon-hood ebbs and flows, soaking me in her liquid nectar and milking every drop of my own precious fluid. The excess of our combined juices seep out, dribbling out of her folds and down my cock. Aris's face is frozen in pure bliss, shuddering, high-pitched gasps escaping her throat as she wrestles with overwhelming ecstasy.

I collapse onto her trembling form, sliding my arms underneath her and softly pressing her into me. I lick and nibble at her heaving chest, allowing our orgasms to wind down in peace. Aris closes her eyes, leaning her head back as she pants from the exertion of her climax. The afterglow passes in silence, the only sound in the room being our slowing breaths of air.

My member slips from her cozy depths, retracting back into its hiding place. I let out a satisfied sigh, having shed yet another burden thanks to Aris.

"Aris, is that you?"

The two of us stare towards the curtains blocking the doorway, simultaneously noticing the shadow that has appeared behind it.

"Uh... yes mother?" Aris says breathlessly.

The shadowy silhouette speaks with the amused, condescending tone of a proud mother. "Aris... you know better than to do that in your room. Take it to a breeding den next time."

I stifle a snicker. Aris looks embarrassed, but shares in my mirth.

"Sorry mother. I will, next time."

Aris smiles at me, and we spend the rest of the night in each others arms. I drift off into a dreamless sleep, both my body and mind at peace, at least for the moment.