FSE

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The air is eerily still along the highway; only a scattered few breezes brush across the landscape. A latticework of clouds float lazily across the sky, the bright sun struggling to pierce through its heavenly rivals. The land is painted in a chaotic smattering of shadow as rays of warm sunlight manage to find their way to the earth.

Rezel walks along the path, a hand held firm against the back of his head in a vain attempt to assuage his stubborn pain. The dull throbbing refuses to abate despite the healing Saro had given it. No bruise remains, leaving only the invisible pain as evidence of the events of the prior night.

Saro walks beside Rezel, nursing his own wound. Tiny flecks of dried blood mar his snout, and he occasionally lifts a hand to rub it with a wince. A faint scar remains from the cut of the vulpine dagger across the tip. The pair says little of the violent encounter they barely survived, resolving to hurry towards Benera where they can relax and recover. Rezel has a hunch he knows who the shadowy figure that saved them was, though Saro can only wonder.

Though little is said between him and his companion, Saro's mind is replaying the events of the night in his mind. He felt very outmatched by those simple vulpine bandits, and now finds himself doubting every decision he made in the heat of combat, and indeed, is beginning to doubt his own prowess with magic.

A wall of fire? What was I thinking? I should have... sent a wave of force... or perhaps a cone of freezing air...

Rezel takes no notice of his pensive companion. He pushes aside the thoughts of the night and the shadowy figure, focusing only on the journey ahead.

Many hours pass in silence. As the morning turns to afternoon, the cloud cover opens up, bathing the land in unseasonable warmth. Just as the two travellers begin suffering from the tedium and heat of the journey, they spot two small, sturdy wagons riding up along the road, pulled by stocky, four-legged feral reptiles with rough scales and long snouts. They are driven by a lightly-dressed spiked lizard, the reins of the lead cart in his coarse, scaly claws. At his command, the procession slows down as it approaches the duo.

"Hail." The lizard calls to Rezel and Saro. He notes their weary looks with a grimace. "Are you two heading to Benera?"

Saro opens his mouth, but Rezel speaks first, and with poorly disguised urgency. "Yes, would you allow us to ride with you?"

The lizard grins and lets out a laugh. "Of course. There should be room in the second wagon. Although... if there's any trouble..." His tone drifts, phrasing the last words as both a warning and a request. Anyone riding with a caravan not allowed to steal or cause undue stress, and are also expected to defend it if they are able, should it be attacked. It is a system that works surprisingly well, due to the sometimes merciless intolerance shown to those who abuse it.

Rezel nods and approaches the trailing wagon, his master following behind. Rezel jumps up onto the still-moving vehicle before pulling a hesitant Saro aboard. Most of the space in the open-top wagon is taken up by sacks and boxes of commodities; cloth, leather, metal bars, carefully wrapped packages of gems and jewellery, all watched by the two passengers sitting among them. The attention of the two occupants is now caught by the two new arrivals as they try to find a measure of comfort on the rumbling wagon.

Saro begins cursing his lack of travel experience as he clings to the edge of the wagon, wearing an expression of increasing distress. Rezel takes a brief moment to survey the interior before picking a spot along the side where the wood is raised to form a seat for passengers. He motions to Saro to join him, but Saro shakes his head.

"I am okay here, thank you."

Rezel notes his masters' voice is trembling, but thinks little of it. Perhaps... from the vibration of the wagon? He doesn't consider the naivete of the thought.

In the next moment, the caravan spurs onward with speed, causing Saro and Rezel to lurch backwards, narrowly keeping their balance. Saro closes his eyes and lets out a quiet yelp, his claws digging into the wood as he holds himself tight.

Rezel's gaze wanders as the caravan makes its way westward, with much more speed than the pair were making on foot. He thanks his luck that a caravan came by so early in the day. His eyes settle on the face of the sharp-eyed fox sharing the wagon with him. A slim sword hangs sheathed at his belt, drawing Rezel's curious glance. Such a thin sword, it looks as if it would snap like a twig.

His eyes drift back upwards and into the fox's eyes, now staring directly at him. Rezel averts his gaze swiftly, staring at some inconspicuous spot in the distance. When he glances back at the fox, he finds those yellow eyes no longer boring into him, but before he can avert his gaze again, the fox shoots a sideways glance at him, and then grins and turns away.

The other passenger, a grey furred wolf, simply sits quietly in a corner of the wagon, his silver, black-nosed muzzle poking out from his raised hood. No weapons adorn his crouched figure, but his robes are rimmed with a selection of arcane runes. In the brief glances Rezel can sneak under the hood, he sees that the wolf's eyes are closed, but they glow faintly with a rim of azure.

Satisfied at his observations of the other passengers, Rezel's eyes wander back to his master. Saro is clinging to the side of the wagon, only a few feet from the open back, his eyes closed tightly and mouth pulled up into a grimace, revealing gritted teeth.

"Master? Are you alright?"

"I... augh!" The wagon hits a bump and Saro lets out a startled cry.

Rezel raises from his seat and walks unsteadily towards the visibly terrified serpent. The fox watches the scene unfold, wearing a grin of shameless amusement.

Extending a hand, Rezel grips Saro's arm, holding his robes tightly. "Relax, Master Saro. Come, you will be more comfortable over here on the seat."

"I... I don't like it, Rezel. It m-moves and s-shakes too much."

Rezel gazes down at Saro, noting the genuine fear in his eyes. A part of him wants to grin, to laugh at the ridiculousness of the moment. Someone so apparently wise and intelligent, paralysed with fear over the movement of a wagon underneath him. Instead, the dragonkin takes his master by the hand and gently guides him further inwards. It takes a moment for Saro to release his desperate grip on the wooden side, but he battles his fear, deciding to trust in Rezel.

The wagon rumbles and rocks, Rezel holding firm onto Saro as they each take slow, cautious steps on the unstable cart. Saro's fear begins to abate as he starts to realize how tightly Rezel is holding him...

The cart hits another rut in the road, causing the contents and passengers to shift slightly. Saro lets out a soft whimper and closes his eyes tightly once again, unable to hold himself upright. He hears Rezel let out a grunt, and after a moment, opens his eyes to find himself fully held in his companion's arms.

Saro's heart skips a beat. He flushes helplessly, his scales taking on a crimson hue. Rezel, focused on keeping his master upright, takes a moment to realize what is happening. His arms are wrapped around his master's warm, trembling body, his grasp soft but firm. The world seems to stand still for this brief moment, the movements of the cart becoming suddenly indistinguishable as the pair's heartbeats quicken. They gaze into each others eyes, thoughts blazing through their minds almost too fast to decipher.

"Heh." A short grunt of amusement from the direction of the fox.

Rezel and Saro snap back to reality, their embrace withdrawn in surprise. Still flushing red, Saro takes a sharp breath before stiffly sliding past Rezel to take a seat on the raised ledge inside the wagon. The embarrassment the serpent feels leaves no room for his fears. Rezel, mildly stunned from the intimate contact, slowly slides backwards and onto his seat as well, nervously averting his gaze from both Saro and the fox.

The fox, still grinning, slides around in his seat to watch the scenery go by, fully satisfied at witnessing such a strange, yet tender, spectacle.

---

A crossroads deep in the lands of Serysia, Benera is a bustling city with stories of legendary battles, peoples, and exploits told in every direction around it. Before being integrated with Serysia, it was an independent city, shielded by no walls but rather its powerful, disciplined military. Originally inhabited by the large, spiked reptilians known as the Rittus, it is now a melting pot of all races and peoples among Serysia. Indeed, some see it as the model city of the Serysian people. Others are not so blind to the discontent and corruption beneath the surface.

The travelling pair decides to stay in Benera for the day, to rest and recover from the roughness of the previous night. It is a city rich with culture and legend, many famous leaders and soldiers having made their names here, both before and after its annexation into Serysia. The streets are sparsely dotted with the iconic Cindermagi of the guard, their black, red-flecked robes swaying in the breeze that eases through the city, glittering as if it were flakes of ruby dusted upon the fabric.

Rezel approaches a statue of a large, powerfully built bipedal serpent, his features carved into the stone with masterful, delicate care. The ravages of time have been gentle to it, perhaps due to its unseen caretaker servants. Its details still give it an air of realism, as if it were a grey-skinned warlord that could come alive at any moment.

"Gorizo the Conqueror, one of the many warrior-leaders of ancient Serysia." Rezel reads from the bronze plaque set beneath the statue. "Through flawless leadership and unsurpassed cunning, he saw this city-state of Benera incorporated into the growing Serysian territory, leading to unimagined prosperity for both the soldier-citizens of this fine city, as well as the vast and varied peoples of Serysia proper."

Saro nods. "There were lessons on that. Lord Gorizo negotiated a treaty, one that sealed Benera as a protectorate of Serysia. It was only a matter of time before it was incorporated as just another region in its territory."

Rezel tilts his head slightly. "Oh? How did he manage to get them to sign such a treaty?"

Saro shrugs. "The truth of it is mired in propaganda and misinformation. Some say Lord Gorizo simply threatened them with a large force of serpent phalanx. Others say he befriended the then-current general of the city, convincing him to respectfully stand down. Still others say it was a subtle demonstration of powerful enchantment magic. People believe whatever story fascinates them the most."

Pacing to the side, Saro looks away thoughtfully and continues. "Regardless of how he did it, Lord Gorizo's efforts allowed Serysian migrants to move into Benera. Their military began to suffer as their culture and descendants intermingled with outsiders and blended with softer Serysian traditions. Eventually, it became just another city, its deeds and history remaining only in memory."

Rezel raises his gaze to the statue, his eyes slowly scanning the stoic expression captured in the stone. "That's... tragic, isn't it?"

Saro looks back at Rezel, nodding slowly. "...It is."

A booming laugh echoes throughout the square. Nearby, at a small sitting area, a large, boisterous reptile clad in a patchwork of leather and metal armor gestures to his companion from across his table.

"...and so, I told them, 'If you want to start trouble, start it, and I'll finish it!' Haha!" He leans forwards across the table and grins. "Would you believe they didn't want a fair fight? Three of 'em came at me!"

The reptile lets out another loud guffaw before continuing. "Ya see, it would have been fair if they brought a couple more friends!"

This triggers more raucous laughter from the lizard, and he slams a fist onto the table at his own amusement. His companion across the table doesn't flinch, but simply smiles. After a moment, the reptile takes a breath, a swig of his drink, and continues in a quieter voice.

"Ah, they gave me a few good knocks, but I gave it back tenfold. They sure regretted tangling with Traado the Tough! Hahah!"

His companion smiles and responds quietly, too faint to hear, and then something strikes Rezel as his eyes drift to the smiling figure. White scales. Under the modest cloth cap and circlet, a pearly scaled, square snout pokes out. Not unlike a fellow dragonkin.

Hmm, another moonborn, here? Rezel has no time to ponder this as the pair at the table stand up and make to leave, the large, loud reptile doing all the talking as they turn a corner, his voice carrying through every unseen street they walk along.

"Somebody you know?" Saro asks.

"Mmm, no. He was just very loud."

Saro stares skyward for a moment before glancing around the square. "We should find lodging soon, before the later caravans arrive. We don't want to be stuck on the street tonight!"

Rezel smiles and waves a hand. "Lead on, Master."

They wander about the streets, chatting idly about the sights and sounds, finding just as much pleasure in each others company as in the entertainment of the city. Yet, among the crowds of merchants, mercenaries, and everyday citizens, Rezel cannot shake the feeling they are being watched. Furred and furless creatures live and move about the city streets, running errands, trading and bartering, eating and carousing, yet none linger out of place for long.

The sun is still soaring high in the sky as master and student come across an inn along a main thoroughfare; a large, heavily trafficked road that splits the city in two from east to west.

Saro looks over the sharply-carved stone building with a critical eye. "This seems suitable enough. I will book us a room."

Rezel lets out a murmur of acknowledgement, his attention drawn by something else. Nearby, at the mouth of a small road between tall, beige buildings, a small, lithe reptile with large eyes and a wide mouth stares directly at him with an unblinking gaze. There are a collection of scars across its face, and its expression holds undisguised malice.

A wagon crosses between them, and in that moment, the gecko is gone. Seeing that Saro has already entered the inn, Rezel finds himself pacing towards the alley, his curiosity spurring him to action while tempered by a faint caution. Reaching the mouth of the side road, he spots a flash of green tail disappearing around a corner further down. Walking slowly and carefully, Rezel follows the road as it winds and twists around buildings of various sizes and states of repair.

He passes barred doors and boarded windows, smashed crates and broken, scattered goods. Nary a soul inhabits the path, though slivers of white light cut through the occasional crack in the walls. This place is an unsettling change from the rest of the city; enclosed, quiet, and oppressive. A feeling of unease creeps through the young moonborn, each step becoming slower, more deliberate as his eyes nervously scan the surroundings, the buildings themselves seemingly looking down on him with harsh stares.

The alley turns darker and more decrepit as Rezel descends further into the network of buildings. There is no sign of the strange lizard.

Lost the trail... where did he go? Who was he?

Having second thoughts about coming this far, Rezel spins around and begins to head back to the inn... only to find his path blocked by a shrouded figure, with hands wreathed in azure wisps of energy. The stranger's drab brown robes sway slightly from the magical currents, cold blue eyes peering out from underneath the hood. What bare scales visible are charred and damaged, with scars covering the rest. With a shift of his head, the figure speaks, his voice a hiss of metal scraping stone.

"White scales. Is the one."

Rezel's hand drops to the hilt of his sword. "What is this? Who-"

A shuffle from behind causes the dragonkin to spin around, finding himself flanked by two more foes, dark and imposing. The brief lapse in concentration is what the mage was waiting for, and Rezel feels the sharp tingle of magic behind him from an unleashed spell. Spinning back around but with precious little time to react, Rezel conjures an arcane screen and thrusts it before him. A crackling bolt of lightning impacts the shield and it gives way, shattering to ether but dissipating the deadly energies in the process. The smell of ozone fills the charged air.

His scabbard rings out through the alley as Rezel draws his sword in a flash of silver. Dragonkin training and instinct takes over, clouded slightly by the bare fear towards the now obvious intent of these strangers. Spinning back around to face his nearer foes, his blade catches the sabre of one of the large, shrouded ones flanking him. One of them has the orange and white stripes of a tiger, with bared teeth and glinting yellow eyes to match. The other is a large lizard, his smooth rounded snout poking out from his hood and red eyes glaring through the shroud.

Metal grinds against metal as Rezel draws the tiger's sabre away with a twist. The enemy lizard wastes no time in assisting his companion, his vicious spiked mace arcing down at the dragonkin's exposed head. Ducking down and leaning back, Rezel winces as the weapon whiffs past, narrowly missing its target. Using the momentum of his movement to make a stepping spin away, Rezel puts space between him and his two closer foes, thankfully now out of reach of their weapons, though not for long.

In this brief moment of respite as his enemies close the small distance between them, Rezel mutters an incantation under his breath and lashes out with a sweeping hand gesture. What should have been a simple wave of arcane flame becomes a blazing, swirling conflagration as Rezel channels dragonfire into the spell. The intensity of the heat causes even the dragonkin to wince and step back, his foes lost in the rolling flames. Screams of pain sound out through the alley, giving Rezel a sense of unsettling relief.

But, to his horror, a figure dashes through the flames, eyes alight with pain and rage. The tiger, with singed fur and smouldering robes, charges Rezel with sabre flashing. The metal whistles through the air, cutting into pearly scales and flicking blood onto the stones. With a cry of pain, Rezel barely manages to deflect the second blow, but the assault continues unabated.

Desperately, Rezel tries to keep his sword between him and his foe. The sharp clang of metal striking metal echoes with every blow parried, but each one throws Rezel's sword to the side, wrenching his arm painfully and leaving him momentarily open. Wounds blossom throughout his body with every successive strike, the tiger proving too fast for Rezel to block his every attack. Every swing that gets through his guard is more pain and more blood, and soon Rezel's sword hand is slick and red.

With a vicious sweep, the tiger strikes Rezel's sword once more, and this time the handle slips from the moonborn's grasp. The blade clatters to the ground, and Rezel finds himself defenseless. Grinning madly, with pain and murder in his eyes, the tiger steps forward, drawing his free hand back in a fist. Rezel's reactions are slowed from his wounds, and he fails to evade the blow. Clubbing him in the snout, the tiger sends Rezel tumbling to the ground, the world a whirl of colors before his eyes.

Then something happens.

It is as if something sparked to life inside of him. Something strange, different, and yet, familiar. Something that was within him, perhaps for all his life.

The pain ebbs away, his sight clears. He sees the tiger standing menacingly over him, curved sabre held upright for a killing blow.

A fear of death grips Rezel as he lie there, staring at his enemy. A powerful, all-encompassing fear, its cold fingers gripping his heart. Yet, the desire to survive blazes within him, a fire of desperation. And with a mere thought, the fire lashes out with a resounding boom.

The shockwave shakes the houses around them. Shutters fly off their hinges, nearby crates splinter and break, while everything else is thrown entirely clear of the area. The tiger is blasted off his feet and careens into the wallstones of a building. The deafening sound of the shockwave is followed by a muffled crunch of bone. The tiger slumps to the ground, unmoving, his pain and rage cut short.

Heartbeat pounding fiercely, Rezel struggles to his feet, blood flowing freely from his wounds and spattering the ground with crimson. The white fire within him seems to fade as suddenly as it appeared, almost as if the effort had burned it out, leaving him newly weak and trembling. His breathing grows ragged as the pain begins to return in force. The lizard with the mace lies on the ground, burned and black from the dragonfire that still licks at him, as still as his tiger companion in death.

A murmur of intrigue sounds from behind Rezel, and he spins, more sluggish than he would have wished, to face the mage once more.

The serpent, having watched the spectacle unfold, grins from under his hood. A glittering shield surrounds him, held aloft by one hand, having absorbed the sudden shockwave. The other hand is pulled back, the energies of a spell swirling around it in a web of lavender light.

Rezel lifts an arm to incant a spell, but he is too slow. The serpent drops the shield and flings the spell in a single motion, lighting the area with a purple flash. The blast strikes Rezel square in the chest, and his fatigue and weakness seems to increase tenfold from the energies now coursing through him. His legs crumple underneath him, and he finds himself on his back, staring at the sky, immobilized from head to toe.

Leisurely, the serpent walks over to the prone dragonkin, peering down at him with cruel blue eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but something catches his attention and he turns his head away. There is the sound of a sword being drawn, but the sound is higher, thinner.

Rezel can barely make out a quiet voice outside his range of vision.

"... mine. I claim..."

The serpent glares at the intruder, drawing his hands up before him to prepare a spell. "No."

Darkness creeps over Rezel's vision, powerful fatigue weighing on his eyelids. Inside, he feels almost... hollow, and his energy drains away into the void.

The serpent lashes out with a lance of arcane energy towards the unseen person. His expression turns to frustration and he intones another spell, but the flash of a blade causes him to step back. A furred figure lunges into Rezel's sight, a thin blade whipping and stabbing through the air at blinding speed. The figure's grace and agility is unbelievable; they almost glide through the air, floating with steps of wind. Every move is as smooth as water, flowing from one into another like an endless river.

He can't quite make out the figure. In the dimming light, he sees the telltale snout and ears of a fox, and the tipped tail to match, the fur gleaming silver in the light. Before he can see any more, his vision fails him, sending him falling into a pit of blackness as he slips into unconsciousness.

---

Saved once again, though this time by a stranger.

While dreaming, voices drift to Rezel from the darkness. At first, they are murmurs, muffled and soft. Gradually, they become clearer, words floating through faint but audible.

"... saw him, he looks like he fought..."

A second voice, this one much closer, a familiar one but full of worry and anguish.

"Oh, he's bled so much... who were they?"

"... do not know."

There is silence for some time as Rezel slowly drifts along in unconsciousness. Then, the second voice returns, worried and quivering.

"Oh Rezel... please be okay. Please wake up."

The voice, despite its fearful tone, comforts Rezel. It is Saro's voice. Warmth spreads through his body, and his senses slowly begin to return.

Rezel's eyelids flutter open. He is in a room, modestly decorated and somewhat sterile. A small fire burns in the hearth, casting an orange glow upon the surroundings. Several glass bulbs are arrayed around the room, shedding soft white light from their ensorceled cores. The window curtains are drawn and there is no light shining through them. It's hard to tell how much time has passed, but it seems to be well after dark.

Saro kneels at the side of the bed, his head dipped and eyes closed. His hands are clutched around one of Rezel's own, holding it tightly close to him. Rezel can't help but smile, feeling his heart lightened from the sight of it.

Lifting his head, Rezel lets out a grunt as his body complains at the motion. Looking down, he sees his limbs bandaged, with a few smaller exposed wounds healed shut with magic. Most of the damage appears to be repaired, and little of the pain remains. It brings backs guilty memories of before... the miscast during training.

Saro jolts upright, his eyes momentarily unfocused before widening at Rezel. Before the dragonkin can react, Saro throws himself at Rezel, wrapping his arms tightly around his squirming student. Too tightly, as Rezel gasps and grunts in pain.

"M-master Saro, ow!"

Recoiling away, Saro releases his grip, wearing a guilty but relieved expression on his face.

"S-sorry! I..."

Leaning back in, Saro embraces Rezel in a much gentler hug, pressing his snout into Rezel's shoulder.

"I hate seeing you hurt like this. Not again. I worried you were..."

Returning the hug and closing his eyes, Rezel murmurs reassurance. "I'm okay, Master."

Saro squeezes Rezel briefly, before reluctantly pulling away. His hand drifts to Rezel's hand and lies there, fingers touching.

Embarrassment floods through Rezel, his silly curiosity having put him in danger and worried his master. Once again, the student has worried the master. Rezel realizes that it hurts to see Saro scared and worried like that, even more than the wounds he's suffered. He wants to see his master smile and laugh. To cherish his company. He wants to hold him close, and never let go.

"I apologize, Master Saro. I wandered off..."

Saro shakes his head. "That doesn't matter. You're okay..." He lets out a sigh. "...you're alright."

"I didn't mean to worry you, Master. It was foolish of me..."

Saro squeezes Rezel's hand tightly, but says nothing. His scales seem to take on a slight crimson hue, but it could be a trick of the firelight.

Looking down at his wounds, Rezel remarks, "You should have been a healer, perhaps."

Saro lets out a soft chuckle. "Perhaps. I never found arcane healing very intriguing, but... when I heal you..." He trails off, looking away.

Rezel fidgets and shuffles up to sit upright on the edge of the bed. The pain seems lesser now, for some reason. He sits directly across Saro, who is looking on with renewed surprise and worry.

"Rezel, you-"

"Master..." Rezel cuts Saro off, leaning forward and embracing the serpent, whose mouth lies agape mid-scolding, in surprise.

"Thank you, Saro. I... I am happy you are here for me." The words seem so heavy, weighted with sincerity. It feels liberating but... embarrassing to speak them aloud, though it feels as if they are simply his feelings, finally put to voice.

Saro slowly, gently, returns the embrace. The moment seems to stand still in time, the fire crackling silently in its stone confines. The pair are each content to relish each others warmth and comfort, their contact sending their collective hearts soaring into the heavens. Rezel pulls his head back and stares into Saro's eyes; deep pools of yellow-green, a glimmering forest during the sunrise. They gaze back at him, caring, loving, yearning. It almost seems unreal, living this moment... a distant dream. Heartbeats quicken, white and brown scales growing red from within, and a stirring beginning between the two...

Dragonkin snout and serpentine muzzle begin to drift closer. Saro's tongue flits out nervously, twin forks brushing lightly against Rezel's nose. Pressing closer, Rezel's lips begin to part as he feels Saro's warm breath on his face. Saro closes his eyes and inches forward, his tongue flicking out once more to tantalize the dragon's muzzle. Their snouts touch...

A knock on the door startles the two, the light tapping shattering the silence as surely as if it were a cascade of thunder. Jolting apart, the they take a moment to recover their senses, their tender, longed-for moment suddenly torn away from them.

"Ah... Come... come in." Saro stutters as he straightens his robes.

The latch snaps open and the door is pushed open just enough for the fox to slip in. He sees Rezel and nods courteously.

"You are awake I see." His voice is svelte, smooth and refined. A light smile plays on his canid lips.

It takes a moment for Rezel to recognize him. It is the same fox who had been in the caravan with them. His fur is as orange as it was before, and his slim sword still rests sheathed at his hip. Was it him who had stepped in during the fight?

Rezel doesn't respond. The fox steps closer, acknowledging Saro. "You do fine work, Arcanist Saro. His wounds were gruesome."

Saro flusters, not quite recovered from the interrupted moment. "I... er. Yes."

Rezel tries to disguise the awkwardness by speaking aloud. "Was it you that saved me?"

The fox grins. "Indeed, though it looked like you put up quite a fight. Even gave Illscale pause."

"Illscale, the serpent? Who was he?"

The fox pauses for the briefest of moments, a faint, almost imperceptible flash of regret in his eyes. "He's... a bounty hunter."

Saro looks at the fox, surprised and concerned. "Why did a bounty hunter go after Rezel?"

The fox shakes his head. "I wouldn't know. Perhaps he saw you as an easy mark. Not all bounty hunters are above thievery"

That gecko, he led me to them. It had to be set up. Rezel keeps his thoughts to himself for now. He should have never followed that little gecko into the alleys. Perhaps it was a random mugging... but they tried to -kill- him!

"May I ask what you plan to do now? I would hate to see you fall victim again." The fox glances between the two companions, curiosity and concern apparent on his face.

"We are heading west, to the coast. We are leaving tomorrow."

"Is he in a condition to travel?" The fox politely indicates towards Rezel.

"Ah... we'll take a... caravan." Saro's voice seems to drop at the mention of it, but it would be silly to travel on foot again regardless, even with Rezel in good enough shape for it. He sighs with resignation.

"Hmm. I am heading west too, to the port of Greenwater, if you would like me to accompany you?" The fox gives a friendly smile.

"You saved me, so we would be glad for the company." Rezel says. It couldn't hurt to have him along for a little while, he did owe the fox his life. Though he would undoubtedly long to be alone with Saro. "In case you need to save me again."

Rezel and the fox share a chuckle, but Saro says nothing.

"Oh. I haven't introduced myself!" The fox bows with a flourish, his yellow eyes twinkling. "I am Kell. Kell Revlis at your service!"

Saro stands up and offers a short, polite bow. "I am Saro, former arcanist of Eyrios Academy, now independent. This is Rezel, my student."

It strikes Rezel as a little odd, come to think of it. Kell has given them his surname, while receiving neither of theirs in return. Saro, as a serpent, has a family name as a surname, which are given only to family, very close friends, or lovers... while Rezel has never volunteered his dragonkin version of a surname for his own private reasons. He never even realized that he doesn't know Saro's surname... not that it feels intentionally withheld... more that it just feels unnecessary to know; a formality of sorts.

"Pleased to properly meet you both! The night is late however, so I should retire to my room." The fox offers another bow, with less flourish. "Perhaps you should retire as well, yes? We will meet again in the morning, I trust?"

Saro nods. "Yes. We will take an early caravan, so be prepared. If you're late..."

The fox chuckles. "You'll leave without me? Fear not, I'll be waiting!"

He offers a final gesture of farewell before slipping out of the room, leaving the pair alone once again. Silence descends onto the room; an awkward, uncomfortable quiet. Saro shuffles uneasily, and then takes a step towards the door.

"He's right... I should... go to my room..." Saro says, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

The tender moment between them is still fresh in their minds, but their fears and uncertainties have returned. Icy claws of doubt hold Saro's heart hostage as Rezel sits on the bed, lost in thought...

Did that really happen? Rezel's tail twitches idly and he watches with mounting urgency as Saro takes another step to the door. Did he...? All this time?

Saro sighs, and turns fully away from Rezel. "I'll see you in the morning. Be up ear-"

"Wait."

Saro turns his head back, his yellow-green eyes scanning Rezel with an expression that went from resignation... to a glimmer of hope.

"Master. I..." The words falter and catch in Rezel's throat. He struggles to gather his courage, and he makes up an excuse. "I don't... want to be alone, tonight. A-after that..."

Saro turns fully around, looking at Rezel with uncertainty, but saying nothing. There are a few moments of silence, but they feel like an eternity.

By the Dragon... s-say something! Rezel fidgets and shuffles, his tail twitching ever more nervously. That moment before, that fleeting moment that was a dream come reality. He cannot let it go, to just be forgotten and denied. He refuses to!

Arrgh, master!

Bracing himself, Rezel closes his eyes and flushes red. "I... would like you to stay with me tonight."

Saro's expression turns into thinly veiled surprise. "You do?"

Rezel nods, eyes still closed.

Saro shuffles to the side, looking slowly around the room. "I... I will gather some blankets... and-"

"No!" Rezel snaps, his heart pounding in his ears. I have to spell it out for him... "Here... on the bed... is fine."

Saro's eyes glimmer in the firelight, and Rezel looks away, scales burning bright red. It feels as if all the blood has drained from his body into his face, and his thumping heart is struggling to keep it there. A tiny voice in the back of his mind speaks to him with disappointment. What are you saying? Why do this? Why complicate things?

The bed sinks slightly. Rezel feels a hand rest on his twitching tail. The appendage feebly trashes against the touch before lying still and calm. Rezel's eyes drift around the room, nervously focusing on random objects they pass before finally settling on Saro's smiling, blushing face. Before Rezel can think of anything to say, Saro's snout pushes forward and envelops him in a gentle kiss.

All at once the fears drop away, replaced by a breathless euphoria. A forked tongue flits cautiously in and out, grazing Rezel's lips and striking at his tongue like a playful viper. The hand at Rezel's tail strokes back and forth, gradually finding its way upwards to rest at the base.

If the earlier moment was a dream turned reality, then this one was reality turned dream. The world around the pair loses focus, their bodies the only presence, their scent, taste, and touch the only senses. Rezel reaches an arm out and pulls Saro closer, and the serpent lets out a gasp as he is pulled deeper into the sweet embrace. They playfully nip and nibble each other, momentarily blinded by their passions.

It seems to last forever. Warmth and breath, touching and licking, Rezel's hands explore Saro's body in places they have never been before, each newfound contact sending shudders through the serpent's body. Rezel's scales are touched and stroked in return, the sensation leaving a warm tingle everywhere Saro's hands drift. A hand slides underneath his robes...

Everything suddenly loses its brightness when Saro pulls his head away, looking at Rezel with concern. "Should we... erm... proceed?" He glances to the side, suddenly shy.

Rezel, overwhelmed by the sensations, pauses in wordless silence as he realizes what Saro is asking. A sharp stirring strikes him between the legs, awakened like a blazing fire left smouldering for an age. Still, Rezel hesitates, before finding the words to ask.

"Do you want to?"

Saro looks deep into Rezel's eyes, searching for courage, for some certainty. The two of them have longed for this moment, even as they were oblivious to each others yearning. Saro's heart seems to fill up with radiance, his dream finally appearing to come true. And now, he feels, he knows that Rezel's heart shares his radiance. And shares the dream.

A nod. A short, quick nod. And he smiles.

Before he knows it, Saro finds himself underneath Rezel, their kiss renewed with vigour. Rezel's tongue leaves trails along Saro's neck, causing the scales to sheen softly with wetness. Hands journey across body and scale, pausing to grip and massage before moving onwards. Rezel's hand slides down a serpentine chest, claws gliding across light brown bellyscales to dive into the forbidden realms underneath the robes. There, he finds the tender, sensitive spear of flesh, fully erect and wanting. He takes it in hand, and with a twitch, it dribbles liquid onto his palm.

Saro lets out a soft moan into Rezel's muzzle. More fluid drools from his shaft, coating Rezel's stroking hand with warm, unseen stickiness. Saro's body betrays his intense longing, his seed seeping freely outward.

Unfastening his robes, Rezel gently casts them aside, sitting bare upon his serpent master. His pearly scales gleam in the dim light, his ebon-black member poking happily out from between his legs, partially blended with the shadows. Shifting himself back, he poises himself above Saro's hips, pulling free the pink shaft with a hand still fastened to it, slick with precum.

Saro's expression turns to excitement and apprehension as he lies beneath Rezel and watches. The dark dragon-hood dangling before him entices him greatly, but his arms refuse to move, paralysed from anticipation as he observes Rezel, his body tingling from the pleasure of the dragonkin's touch.

Gently, slowly, Rezel lowers himself onto Saro. The thin tip of the snake's shaft meets draconian tailhole, the slippery flesh sliding easily inside. Rezel lets out a groan at the sensation, and Saro shudders with ecstasy in response. The hot flesh of the engorged member gradually enters Rezel's rear, inch by inch, though he is forced to pause to adjust as the length widens. Saro's breathing is fast and shallow, his body twisting and hips gently bucking from the feeling of Rezel's warm entrance.

Rezel lifts himself back up, suspending himself for a brief moment before easing back down, and Saro lets out another moan. Fingers wrap around the dangling dragon-hood, causing it to throb and dribble stark-white precum onto the pleasuring hand. Rezel grunts and gasps, his body trembling as bolts of pleasure course through his body like lightning.

The rhythm begins to pick up, Rezel having fully adjusted to the intrusive presence. The staccato sound of scale slapping scale sounds through the room, punctuated by gasps and moans of pleasure from the pair. Propping himself up with his legs, he rocks up and down and back and forth upon the slender cock. Saro bucks upwards with each motion, moaning and groaning louder with each thrust. Bending down, Rezel nibbles at Saro's neck, teeth and tongue exploring serpent flesh once more as Saro returns the favour with lips and forked licks.

Saro lets out a sudden gasp, his thrusting increasing in intensity. Rezel stops his motions and allows his tailhole to be pounded, lifted upwards from the urgent thrusting just to slide down the shaft again.

"I-I can't hold..." Saro whimpers, his face pulled into a grimace of pleasure. "Aah!"

A long, deep moan of pleasure fills the room as Saro's seed fountains out from his buried shaft. Sticky warmth begins to fill Rezel's rear, and he rocks his hips in time with the thrusts, milking out every drop. The world fades around him as Saro's moaning turns into breathless gasping, his quivering student filling up with his essence, tiny droplets leaking down his pulsing shaft and onto his heaving scales.

Rezel, already on the edge, cries out with burning ecstasy as he feels the fingers around his cock tighten in the throes of orgasm. Strings of thick white cum shoot out, landing on scale and snout and bed, the flesh twitching madly as it offers its seed to the air, pearly excess dribbling down on to Saro's gripping hand.

The pair pant and gasp, the pleasant afterglow settling down upon them. With a long sigh, Rezel collapses onto Saro, wrapping his arms around his beloved serpent master; his teacher, friend, and lover. Saro lets out a breath of satisfaction, and squeezes Rezel back. Neither of them say a word, both content in simply enjoying this moment, their hearts lighter than air, dancing in the heavens together.

---

A great, formless expanse. Misty, clouded, yet all it takes is a moment of concentration to bring an area into focus. It is silent; the unnatural silence of a strange realm. There are no others in sight, yet Rezel does not feel alone.

Figures begin to take shape in the fog, staring outwards just to disappear the next moment. Eyes peer out, curious, jealous, impassive. Each one glows with different a different emotion; a different personality. Rezel strains his mind to bring them into focus...

The faces of the gods. Each glance reveals a different face and form. The gods of the Serysians, their many deities and disciplines, some whose mortal recreations are indistinguishable to their real forms, others whom have different features from the statues and weaves created in their visage. Sier the Shadow, with ebon scales and matching eyes, devoid of emotion. Zankul of the East, his gruff countenance enhanced by his ridged and wrinkled scales. Leil the Sly, her cruel gaze disguised by her slender features and regal serpentine beauty.

Some are dramatically different, gods never seen or worshipped by anybody in Rezel's knowledge. Figures with wolf, fox, or lizardlike features flit in and out of perception, and yet some are of a species that Rezel could never know.

This is... the Aurora...? The realm of immortals.

The mists swirl around abruptly, washing away the forms and figures of the countless gods. When the fog settles, a lone figure remains. The formless, lightless expanse drowns the pearly scales of the figure in grey, its silver hair-tipped tail swaying slightly to and fro. A dragonkin.

Slowly, the figure turns. Its eyes burn bright white, blank and imposing, peering at Rezel with an unreadable expression. Gradually, its mouth pulls up into a soft, gentle smile.

Rezel feels a tug at his chest, pulling and twisting at him. Glancing down, he sees his body, murky and unfocused, only there as a passing thought, a habit of the mind brought to life in this ethereal realm. Deep inside, there is a glow. A small, flickering flame; a candle of white fire, recently lit and burning softly. Such a tiny light among this endless expanse.

The figure speaks, its voice seemingly coming from everywhere around them.

Rezel'ki...