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"...Do you accept this mission, boys?"

The voice came from the shrouded face of a male skydancer, hidden within the embrace of some secluded stone passage. Light from the outside world permeated in through the entrance to the rock crevice, but just enough that he could remain hidden. With eyes of shadow and fur of azure barely visible on his arms, he shot his inquiry to two other skydancers over a makeshift stone table with a piece of tattered parchment spread over it.

One of the others, a male skydancer of black-tiger pattern, royal seraph wings and his head hooded by a matching purple cowl with arcane eyes glowing dimly, examined the damaged missive. Flattening it from it's previously rolled state, he overlooked the writing on the parchment. Blinking a few times as he mouthed the words, he furrowed his brow near the end. Glancing up to the shaded figure without a word, then to his partner, inviting him to look as well.

His partner, another male of the same breed, this one with a silver-clown pattern, and obsidian-striped wings with a white cowl to conceal his face, joined the first in his examination. His plague-red eyes scanned the parchment with interest.

"It's time to decide." Came the shrouded voice again, full of authority, with a hint of irritation.

The skydancer in the purple cowl looked up and chimed in with a suave, playful tone. "Keep your wings folded, Gavorn! This looks to be quite the heist, after all. I want to be sure we're not going to ruffle our feathers too much and that we can still be home before dinner."

Gavorn rolled his eyes and grunted, remaining concealed in the blackness.

The white-cowled skydancer looked up next. "Why are you offering this to us?" He said, with a tone of disbelief, and a much more stern voice to contest with his superior. "This is a job suited for the little ones, send the faes-"

"No." Gavorn said bluntly, without hesitation. "They are currently on assignment in the Tangled Wood, keeping our Shadow Fleet ties strong, and agent Akkana actually pulls her weight better than you do. Plus, this job needs more than one dragon to look out for one another. You two are getting this offer, Davion and Marik; I suggest you take it."

Not one to be told he 'wasn't pulling his weight', the white-cowled skydancer replied belligerently and boldly, his black wings flaring slightly. "Oh is that what you think? I'll take the assignment."

Gavorn grinned, maintaining his composure. He knew that comment would trigger Marik's arrogance and coax him into accepting. He looked to the other dragon, knowing Davion would follow his partner.

"Marik?" Davion looked to his partner, who had not broken his confronting gaze with their master. "Er. Yeah, we'll do it. And, we'll succeed." He nodded to Gavorn.

Perfect. That was what he wanted to hear. "Yes, you will." The spymaster leaned forward, revealing himself fully. Pristine white feathers contrasted his dark fur as his eyes glazed his subordinates. "To review: Your objective is the Mirrorlight Promenade, in the Light territories. Your target is a scroll; it should be easily identifiable by it's apparent age and heavy guard. We have a short window of opportunity to grab it with relative ease before they haul it off somewhere to some hidden vault beneath a mile of stone and fire." He paused before continuing, making sure they were listening. "This scroll dates back to the Second Age. What's on it? I have no idea, but it could very well document the events leading up to the rising of The Arcanist himself and the cataclysm that ended that age. Needless to say, I have a buyer in the Arcane Fleets who is willing to pay a her fleet's weight - perhaps more - in gold to have this item. It's currently being held in the light territories, being studied and catalogued, most likely. Frankly, I don't give a damn what they're doing with it. What I do know is that it is far more valuable - to us, anyway - in the talons of the Arcane."

"It will be a cake-walk, sir," Davion grinned. "I think we-"

Gavorn threw a taloned hand forward, grabbing Davion's snout and sealing it shut. "Let me make sure you understand the magnitude of this job: Return with the scroll, or do not return at all. This job will either put us on the map, or in the gutters if you fail." He turned to Marik, still holding Davion's snout. "Understood?"

Marik was unfazed by his superior's posturing, and nodded curtly. "Understood, spymaster. You will have that scroll. Let the buyer know your best are on the job."

"Spare me, Marik. You haven't actually done anything yet." Gavorn released Davion with a slight throw, who shook his head out comically, looking a bit dazed. "When it actually happens, maybe you'll hold the title of 'the best'. I'll even let your mentor, Akkana, know that you performed admirably on this assignment. Until then you'll have to earn your happiness. Do you have any questions on the mission?"

Davion cracked his neck loudly, evoking a slightly disgusted wince from Marik. "Infiltrate the Mirrorlight Promenade, find a million year-old piece of paper, snatch it, and bring it back to be rewarded with loot and debauchery. We'll get the job done, Gavorn."

"Yes...About that." Gavorn rumbled in his chest. "The key word is 'infiltrate'. Do yourselves and me a favor and try to stay undetected. The less attention you bring back here, the better. Do not make this an assassination. Use the appropriate level of force to acquire the scroll and return home. If I hear the owner of the artifact or a whole platoon of guards has been killed and someone comes to us about it, you will pay blood-price out of your cut of the profits. I'd rather not have to worry about paying off reparations to an angry light fleet, so keep this clean. Understood?"

"We'll do whatever it takes to walk out with clean talons and our faces hidden." Davion chimed in, enthusiastic as ever.

"And with the scroll in-hand." Marik added.

"Excellent." Gavorn smirked deviously and nodded, "Then if there is nothing more: get to it. May Shadowbinder cloak you in her loving embrace."

* * *

Davion and Marik flew high, and fast. In two days time, they found themselves on the border of the Tangled Wood. The Light territories stood proudly in the distance with the setting sun behind them and a dense forest before them forming a natural fortress, no doubt ripe with ambushes. The marble pillars of the Sunbeam Ruins towered above the surrounding world; even as dusk began to fall, the ruins seemed to shine and glow ever so slightly. They landed swiftly, resting their wings within the safety of the shadow territory before proceeding forward.

"Surprised we didn't see the faes on our way through the Wood." Davion folded his royal wings back and sat on his laurels.

"Probably for the best." Marik replied bluntly, joining his more impetuous partner on the ground, but not taking a seat with him, instead standing tall on all fours. "They'd probably poach the job from us."

"Oh come on, they wouldn't do that." Davion chuffed.

"Wouldn't they? When are you going to shake the childish notion of 'honor-among-thieves', Davion?" Marik shot a glare to him, pacing in front of him.

"When someone proves to me that it doesn't exist, that's when." For once, Davion sounded quite serious as his head followed his partner in his pacing.

Marik scoffed and sat on his laurels, facing Davion and attempting to stare him down. "You don't want someone to prove that to you, Davion, because it means that you'll be abandoned, killed, or otherwise screwed. What do you think would happen if someone on this assignment catches a glimpse of our faces, or follows us home? Goes to Gavorn demanding that we be executed? He pretends that he's never seen us before in his life to cover his own ass!"

"Yes!" Davion nodded and pointed a talon at Marik. "But! Will he do it? When the law turns their back, you think he's gonna kill us? His clan? You think he's gonna shut down the operation because someone asked him nicely? He abandons us when we fuck up for our own good, so we can learn to take care of ourselves. We get roughed up and our pay taken away because we were stupid and cost the clan, but there'll always be a need for even mediocre cutpurses." He sighed. "I digress. What I'm trying to say is: we're big boys, we don't need Gavorn to be our 'daddy', and I wouldn't wish it any other way. That doesn't mean there's no honor among thieves. It's just tough love, but they look out for us in the end, you know?"

Marik stood again, turning and gazing outwards, towards the Sunbeam Ruins, silent for a long time. "That was probably one of the smarter things that's fallen out of your trap. Fine. There is a measure of honor where the elite won't rat out their brethren or steal jobs without the master's authority... Now are we done talking? The night is coming, and we still need to stake out our mark." He grunted, eager to dodge past his admittance of Davion's logic; something he rarely did, if ever.

Davion grinned. Licking his black snout, he battled with himself on the idea of prodding Marik a bit more on the topic for fun, but decided against it; he did have a better idea anyway. "Sure, sure... But, ah. What do you say we make this more interesting?"

Marik turned to Davion with a raised brow. "'More interesting'? You mean a bet?" He chuckled slightly. "I'm impressed, surprised you're still willing to make wagers after what happened last time." He grinned in a devilish manner.

"Tch." Davion shrugged. "That was a fluke. I hope you enjoyed your spoils because it was the only one you'll get. So what, then? You in?"

Marik looked back into the horizon, thinking for a moment before turning back to his partner. "I'm in."

"Good boy." Davion said with a hint of suggestion. "Standard rules. Until the scroll meets Gavorn's talons, if one of us botches the mission plan, the other comes to save him - or should I say: when I save your ass - your tailhole is mine, and I get to take all the stress out on you." He put out a taloned hand in an agreement shake.

"And if I don't mess up - which I won't - I'm going to make you my bitch for your cocky attitude, Davion." Marik reached out and grasped Davion's paw.

Davion responded with a dirty confident grin and a firm agreeing shake. "Then we've got a deal. Best of luck to us; to you, especially."

Completing their agreement, Marik spread his dark wings and leapt into the air, hovering just above Davion. "Won't be needing it. Now let's get going. Approach the Sunbeam Ruins, fly low, see if we can't figure out where and how many guards there are near our entry point."

Davion splayed his majestic wings and jumped up as well, not tarrying to hover. "Call upon the Shadowbinder if you need cover; I imagine we'll need it!"

The sun began to fall behind the horizon; Davion and Marik had arrived just in time. The waning day would put them more in their element, where they could put their Shadow Fleet training to best use. They flew low to the ground, and as they came closer to the border of the Sunbeam Ruins, they landed and traversed the increasingly dangerous territory on foot. While often at-odds with one another, they always travelled together and staked out the land in unison, relying on one another to make proper and accurate observations.

With a slight glimmer of his eyes, Davion combined shady tactics with his arcane bloodline to boost his sight momentarily. He was no mage by any definition, but he had learned to make the best of whatever short bursts of magic he could muster. "They're in the trees." He whispered to his partner. "I didn't get a count, but I think there's faes and spirals both in the woods."

Marik grunted, his blood-red eyes scanning the skies above. "And they've got patrols in the air, too. I've been watching imperials and guardians buzzing around up there. They're on two routes, both on interlocking paths to have eyes in front of and behind each dragon. Slipping between them probably isn't going to work, unless we pick two that might have bad eyesight... Not something I'd gamble on."

"Damn. They really went all out, didn't they? It's like they're daring us to attack." Davion chuckled slightly as he looked around. With a double-take behind Marik, he swore blatantly in hushed, but urgent tone. "Oh shit, back up. Move, move, move!" He dared to spread his wings slightly, batting them at Marik who didn't even bother to ask questions before spinning around and darting away in a silent half sprint, trying to remain unseen by whatever Davion had called by seeking refuge several meters off in a slight depression in the ground. In their line of work, there was no room for questions; when your partner sensed a danger, it was better to listen to them.

Falling to the ground in a crouch, with his wings laid as flat as he could get them, Marik kept his head down and scanned the treeline. Davion joined him in the same position as they watched a 'small' pack of eight mirrors prowl over the ground that they had been sitting on only moments before. By sheer luck, none of them had caught a glimpse of the skydancer pair, and didn't pause in their route, continuing past Davion and Marik with only the sounds of their viciously clawed footsteps and feral growling accompanying them.

"Shit." Davion reiterated. "That was way too close." He batted an eye at Marik.

"Yeah, it's too early for that kind of near-miss. I fear we might have just spent all our luck just now. How they didn't pick up our heat trail is beyond me, but I'm not about to tempt fate wondering about it. We can't keep sitting here. The stationary guards in the trees are probably too hard to sneak past on foot. We'll have to fly high enough above the canopy to avoid them, but low enough not to draw attention from the sky patrol, and we'll have to slip in past the sky-guards' patrol patterns...somehow..." He trailed off, looking up again and observing what they had to deal with. There were at least half a dozen air patrols in that area of the ruins alone, each one - guardian or imperial - were easily ten times larger than the pair of skydancers, and the consequences for detection would be deadly.

"Hmph.." Davion chuffed, pondering with a talon on his chin. He began to ramble while Marik ignored him, trying to formulate a plan. "We /could/ skim the canopy, if we make sure we're behind enough tree cover. Then again, our wake will rustle leaves and we'll stick out to the air group like a sore paw against the treetops. Ground travel is right out, and I'm not sure if we can slip past the eyes of the big ones-"

Marik interrupted him. "We won't need to go past them."

"...What?" Davion shot him a confused glance. "We need to get in, Marik, we will, believe it or not, need to pass them."

"Oh we will, we'll pass them as a whole. But first, we need to get under one." Marik schemed.

Davion blinked, then smirked. "That's lewd. Well I can't say I don't approve. If you want to try seducing an imperial, pick a cute boy and let me handle-"

"No, you idiot." Marik whapped him with one of his wings. "I'm saying they're big, clumsy bastards. They might have excellent vision facing forward, but they wouldn't be thinking of looking underneath themselves on patrol. No one would be dumb enough to try to use an imperial's own body in-flight to hide, would they?"

Davion's expression of confusion turned to one of devious and unadulterated delight. "Oooohhh! No they wouldn't! And we are just dumb enough to try that, aren't we, Marik?" His grin was toothy and goofy.

"You're damn right we are. Now, I'm not willing to test our luck with a pack of Mirrors on the ground; they'll tear us to ribbons. At least if we get caught in the air, we'll be able to bolt with relative ease. On the next dragon that passes overhead, we need to get underneath them as fast as we can, as quietly as possible. Get in between their legs or under their wings, but stay out of sight of the oncoming dragon. When an oncoming patroller passes the one we take cover under, we need to drop altitude fast and get behind the blockade before another one sees us. You set?" He kept his gaze forward, scanning the ground and the treeline to make sure their way was clear on all fronts.

"Set." Davion scooted away from Marik to give himself more ample room to spread his wings for flight.

"On my mark." Marik tensed up his hind legs as he watched a guardian pass overhead, followed by another going the opposite direction. After a few more moments, an iridescent icy imperial flew over them, and Marik issued his command to Davion. "And... Mark. The frosty one, go."

In perfect unison, the two skydancers leapt into the air together, forcing themselves towards the flanks of the imperial with the quietest flaps of their wings they could muster before another could spot or hear them. Their silent flight and small stature worked exactly as Marik had planned it. With great care and delicacy, Davion managed to find his way beneath the belly of the imperial, wary of grazing his (as he had determined it to be male with a slightly lewd grin to himself) feet with each flap of his wings; fortuitously, every flap of his massive wings also came down far enough to cloak him, hopefully that would serve to hide him from passing dragons.

Meanwhile, Marik had carefully planted himself beneath the wing of the imperial dragon, near to his body where the wide span of his wings shifted the least. There, he bobbed and glided, riding the air currents beneath his wings with the utmost caution; in his eyes, an almost sublime concentration.

Another patrolling dragon was approaching, a guardian. Each dragon in the patrol was frighteningly disciplined; even in the dull of night and the likely monotony of running circles the whole time, they spoke nary a word to one another. It was almost as if they were constructs of scales and magic built solely for the purpose of protection. This helped their plan ever so slightly, as it meant none of the guards would turn their heads to chat or pause their flights, which would spell disaster for the two skydancers.

Regardless, their moment was upon them. The window of opportunity had opened as the two dragons passed one another, side by side. To them, it was a trivial event, barely worth registering. To Davion and Marik, however, it was the moment of truth. As the second dragon rumbled through the air, the thief partners folded their wings and dropped. In their descent, they opened their wings just enough to glide further past the dragon blockade while still maintaining a respectable height above the trees. Their timing meant that on both sides, they had ample time to move forward before the next dragon above had a chance of catching them.

It was an intense flight, to say the least. These were the moments that Marik lived for: the moments that he could test his skill and planning. There was nary a sound in the air, save for a slight breeze and the wind rushing past his head, though he knew any moment that it would only take one dragon to see even a glimmer of them and raise an alarm that could very easily lead to their grisly demise. Silence, in many ways, proved to be more wracking and tense than open combat, as many thieves would likely agree.

Contrary to Marik's earlier prediction, they seemed to not have exhausted all of their luck. No alarms raised as they passed over the ruin's natural barricade and slipped past the guards with a combination of their stealth glide and concealment in the night. Coming ever nearer to the ground, they took refuge amongst the rubble of the Hewn City, on the outskirts of the Light Territories. As dusk was now upon them, all archeologists and scholars that might have been exploring the ruins had departed - the Light Fleets were notoriously superstitious about these ruins, as light seemed to have a hard time permeating the ever-present gloom that had enveloped it.

Such superstitions were of no concern to Marik and Davion, who had landed fully within the mysterious shade and rallied to catch their breath behind the shattered stone walls of one of the structures.

Exhausted by the tense infiltration, stealth not being his particular forte, Davion panted; he'd held his breath through much of the break-in, as opposed to the calm breathing that Marik had mastered. "That was insane!" He folded his wings and fell on his rump, kicking his legs out and leaning back against one of the walls. "But that entry was as smooth as that imperial stud's underbelly, too. Rrowr, am I right? I'll never figure out how you can manage to be so cool in situations like that."

Marik walked around cooly, surveying the surroundings and getting their bearings. "I know." He stated bluntly, a curt response to Davion's chatter.

"Talkative as ever, huh?" Davion chuckled to himself, watching Marik scout the immediate area.

"There's nothing to be said." Marik continued his inspection, never bothering to look in Davion's direction.

With a roll of his eyes, he dismissed Marik's cold-shouldering. "Question: Now that we're in, how're we gonna get out? Getting back to that altitude to slip under another dragon isn't going to be easy from this side of the barrier. We'll have to go against gravity for a longer time and we'll be in the air when we get to the patrols. Lot less blind spot to cover us up there."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Marik assured him.

Davion didn't seem impressed. "Tch, really? You mean we'll burn that bridge when we come to it - that is, you don't actually have a plan, do you?"

Marik shot him a vicious glance that would have shattered the wall behind him if it had the ability. "What do you think I'm trying to do? If you've got something, please do share, otherwise shut your mouth and focus. Either help me figure out where to go from here, find an exit for us, or take a nap and let someone who actually knows how to get items take care of things."

Davion immediately began to laugh quite boisterously. "You're just hot shit, aren't you, Marik?" He mocked. "Alright buddy, old pal, all yours." And with that, he curled up against the wall in a resting position, folding his wings to his body and relaxing.

A sneer crossed Marik's face and a growl rumbled in his chest as he struggled to ignore Davion's teasing. "I have absolutely no qualms killing you and leaving you here, 'partner'."

Davion was relentless in his jeering as he called Marik's bluff, "But you won't, will you? At least, not while we have a bet in progress! Oh, and Shadowbinder forbid you axe me here and then realize down the road you needed me. What a shame that would be, eh? You'd be locked up here, alone, and no one would break you out, not even for a rough fucking as payment." He waved a paw at him, in a motion of brushing him off.

With heavy breathing and his body beginning to tremble with rage, Marik turned sharply and began to leave the shattered structure on foot. He was losing his cool, fast, and he knew if he didn't separate himself immediately, he fully believed Davion would be bloodied by his paw - or worse, they'd be detected by the ensuing scuffle. He departed to an adjacent ruined structure, it's walls as crumbled and decrepit as many of the rest were, though this one had a second floor and a mostly intact stairwell. Davion hadn't followed him, thankfully, and Marik climbed the staircase of the derelict building, cooling off more with each step through the shade and chilly night air. Sometimes he wondered why he was Davion's partner at all. Often times, he thought he'd perform better alone, or at least wish he had a more tolerable partner. True, he couldn't outright kill him, though he'd never say it was because he 'needed' Davion as a partner or even the consequences he might face from the rest of his clan - he was confident enough that he could avoid both of those things. Truth was, Davion was simply better at fighting than Marik was. Even if Marik were to get the first shot, or manage to sneak up on him, somehow he feared the tide would be quickly turned against him.

He hadn't simmered down completely as he ascended the crumbling staircase and onto the rickety floor above - he was still thinking about killing his partner, after all - but this was the calm before the storm, he had to regain his composure before moving forward.

The second story of the abandoned building gave him a slight advantage over many of the rest of the destroyed hovels and structures below him, while keeping him still concealed in stone walls amidst the mysterious shade. While the miasma repelled the light followers, Marik found it soothing, welcoming, even. He believed the strange aura that enveloped the Hewn City was a product of the Shadowbinder, an attempt to keep balance in a land consumed by light, a way for thieves like Davion and Marik to ease the relay of information between the scholars of light and the rest of the world. For so long as the shade continued to baffle the light fleet, there would be a drop of darkness in the middle of this bright land, and they would embrace it like any good shadow-raised thief. These thoughts helped to soothe Marik's temper, and after a few more minutes of quiet observation of the more lighted lands beyond the city, he had reset. For several minutes, he scouted the structure on which he stood with plague eyes, even taking short flights in low circles around the area to gauge the conditions of the surrounding land.

There was a soiree going on in the Promenade. He could hear the chatter and laughter of several dragons, and smell a veritable buffet of food. Small groups of chatty dragons or pairs of lovers sauntered past the Hewn City, unaware that there were eyes watching them from within, comforted by their torchlit walkways and holy hosts. Was the light fleet celebrating their find? What else would they have to celebrate? Marik feared so many other dragons would make staying hidden a lot harder.

Returning to his origin structure, walking quietly on all fours to the edge of the damaged floor, he hopped up onto a shattered half-wall, looking down to where Davion was last, in the hollowed-out remains of a building. "Davion." He called out in a hushed tone.

No response.

"Davion!" He rose his voice, still wary that his voice may travel to some resilient guards that might have braved the shade.

"What?" A pair of arcane eyes beneath a cowl appeared around the corner below. "You finally get smart and realize we're not leaving here while you huff?"

Marik ignored the backhanded comment successfully, simply issuing his command. "Come here."

Davion came out from his concealment and stood before Marik's vantage point. Wiggling his rump like a cat, he spread his wings and leapt up, skillfully landing on the wall with his claws on the rim before pulling himself up next to Marik with a grunt. "What've you found out?"

"It looks like the guard detail was set up under the assumption that we wouldn't make it this far. There's a lot of scholarly-looking types out there having some kind of party and some dorky looking tundras that might just be guard dogs, but not a lot of actual guards. Still, we should assume each robed egghead out there knows a couple good spells, and that each tundra has a good nose for intruders." Marik paused and pointed towards the elevated plaza of the Sundial Terrace. "The scroll is probably being perused or passed around by a bunch of the biggest academicians in the world-"

"That's a big word for 'egg-head'-" Davion interjected, but was cut off by a louder speaking Marik.

"-at the Mirrorlight Promenade. If we can nestle at the Sundial above the Promenade, we should get a better overview of the area while being above most wandering eyes. We should assume the scholars aren't going to want to take their eyes off the artifact, so formulating a plan to get it away from a bunch of grabby paws is a must. Let's get moving."

Davion nodded. "I'll have my mind and eyes open."

Together they spread their wings and took flight once again. Cloaked by the shade, they hovered quietly, on the lookout for other dragons. As a pair of casually talking robed wildclaws passed before them, unaware of the thieves' presence, they darted forward, bursting from the shadow and into the torchlit city. Their speed and caution made the ascension to the sundial quick, quiet, and painless. Once there, they peeked over the edge of the landmark's ramparts to survey the scene.

Dozens of crates were stacked in the corners, one on top of the other, with at least twenty small fae workers moving things around. Some opened crates and procured candles, foodstuffs, or tomes, others would team up with their kin to move crates down to the Mirrorlight Promenade. From their place hanging on the ledge, their monotone droning chatter could be heard as they fluttered around carrying out their business.

"Damn." Marik swore. "If we go up there, they'll catch us for sure. I didn't expect it to be so busy up there."

Davion chuckled. "Well, uh, we should do something. We look like pastel moths sitting on this wall. If someone down there looks up, they're gonna catch us."

With a sigh, Marik grunted. "Fine. Get up and get behind a stack of crates as quietly as possible."

"Will do." Davion wasted no more time, hoisting himself up with a pull on the wall and kick of his legs. In an instant, he was over the wall and pressed up against several wooden crates, beige wings folded tightly to his body. He was quickly joined by Marik, who copied his movements and pressed himself against the crates, snugly against Davion.

"This is nice." Davion stated lewdly.

Marik backhanded him in the chest, evoking an oof and snicker from him. "Shush." And he peeked his head around the corner of their stack of crates. No one had noticed them.

"Yanno, I just thought of something." Davion whispered.

"That's a first." Marik pulled back from his surveying and looked to the ground in thought.

"We look like thieves."

"That's weird, considering that's what we are."

"Yeah, but wouldn't this be easier if we could blend in?"

Marik paused before continuing, realizing that his partner was onto something. "What've you got in mind?"

Davion nodded, and whispered again, "I think for this mission, we should play to our strengths. Gimme your gear; that thief getup is going to raise nothing but red flags. I'll hold onto it, you go out there and act like you want to get some time in with the scroll-"

"Wait, what?!" Marik interjected with a bewildered expression. "You want me to just walk up and ask nicely to look at it?"

"Yes. Tell 'em you're a scholar from the Wasteland, or an ambassador or something and you're here to sell cookies or something, I don't fucking know. You know they won't turn away a scholar, regardless of element. They'll probably rub it in your face." Davion smirked and rested back against the crates, looking quite sure of his idea.

"You can't be serious." Marik furrowed his brow more.

"You got a better idea, buddy?" Davion crossed his arms and puffed his chest out a bit in confidence. "There's a pair of guards outside the door to the temple archives, in full light, with virtually no clearance to slip out undetected. If we try to just knock their lights out, there's no way we're going to hide the bodies in time before someone comes by. Now we're running out of time! If they take it underground, it's going to be a hell of a lot harder to get in there, what's it gonna be?"

"Bah!" Marik grunted and begrudgingly began to remove his gear. Shuffling and tugging, he removed his ivory cowl, hood and tunic, chucking it in a heap at Davion. "Fine, then you stay out of sight, I'll shine in this mission."

"Do it then." Davion prodded him. "Prove me wrong and protect your tailhole."

"Tch." Was all Marik replied with before slipping out from behind the crates and adopting a regal four-legged stance in one swift motion, showing no hesitation that might draw more attention from a worker. Ideally, he wouldn't need to don any stolen apparel as long as his story checked out.

Instead, the attention he did garner was much more malleable and bendable. One of the fae workers, an obsidian-and-blue accented female, approached Marik almost right away and stopped him. "Hold it. Who are you." It said in the archetypical monotone drone of a voice.

Without missing a beat, Marik replied in his normal voice, though projected it with a new kind of confidence, "I am Academician Kevalth, here by invitation. Pardon me, I seem to be lost...? I thought this was the Promenade." He didn't stammer, or talk too fast or too slow. His deception was perfect.

"I'll say. No, this is the Terrace. You took a wrong turn on the lower access. Just go down that way," The fae pointed Marik to a downward leading path that led to the Promenade. "And follow your colleagues. Do hurry, they're packing up soon."

"Will do," Marik replied, bowing his head. "Thank you, small one. I will mention your assistance to your superiors."

"O-oh. That is fantastic. Thank you, scholar. My name is Lamya. I'll let you get on your way now." She bowed her head and fluttered away, flustered, and not wanting to press her luck with what she believed to be a superior dragon who would possibly be her ticket to a bigger paycheck.

Marik chuckled and continued on his way, strutting proudly towards the promenade in full sight, all suspicion erased from the other workers who had seen the exchange.

From behind his little hiding place, Davion chuckled to himself and kept Marik's clothes close as he began to plan his own movement to a safer location. "Not bad, Marik, not bad at all..."

Almost as if he were taking refuge in audacity, Marik managed to enter the Promenade right under the noses of the guards, though a couple did cast some sideways glances at him. As he entered the Promenade and found himself surrounded by other intellectuals, Marik could see the radiant scroll case behind the crowd. It was being talked over by a very large, golden-scaled guardian dragon of the light fleet - no doubt the watcher of the scroll - to a curious looking tundra girl, all jet black and purple. Both of them had peculiar, gleaming Light Runestones around their necks. If he could just get over there...

"Excuse me." A large wildclaw male stepped in front of Marik, brandishing an open scroll and looking none too happy. "Who are you? You didn't enter through the proper channel."

Marik frowned up at the wildclaw. "I'm Academician Kevalth, of the Plague fleet, and I've had one ludicrous day getting here, son, so stand aside."

"I'll do no such thing." The wildclaw checked out the scroll, opening it wide and holding it in front of him. "Now your name isn't even on here, buddy, I'm gonna have to ask you-"

No, it couldn't fall apart here. Think, Marik, think. What would a scholarly plague dragon do...

"Grahh!" Marik roared sharply, stunning the wildclaw temporarily and drawing the attention of several bystanders. "Not on the list, you say? You light fleet love your damnable lists! Three weeks I had this reservation in place, three weeks! Do you know how much runaround the ambassadors gave me? Every damn step of the way I was hounded by the powers that be because you glittery brats can't stand having a plague-clan member in your midst! I finally managed to get an envoy that said she'd put me on the RSVP and I see she got right on that, didn't she? I paid good money and took time out of my busy schedule to come out here and I get the runaround even here!" He growled, staring up at the larger dragon with piercing red eyes. His voice, when raised, sounded effectively like an irate elder - a persona Marik intended to capitalize on.

The wildclaw stammered, taken aback by the skydancer's outburst, "S-sir I know you're upset but I don't-"

"You don't what? You don't make the rules, you just enforce them don't you? Listen here, son, this is a once in a lifetime shot to be here, and I'm not about to have come all this way to be told no and waved away. I managed to pass every check in here; and you would have me removed just because I took a wrong turn?" Marik could hear a chuckle or two coming from the crowd. No one else suspected he wasn't supposed to be there, his royal stature and intimidating poise seemed to be just the charm he needed.

"I just-" The wildclaw was starting to blush and break under pressure.

Somehow, his classic and brutish hustling was working, though it seemed like a good time to cut it off now before he started looking like too much of a blowhard. "What? What else don't you know? Put it on the list, son, Academician Kevalth the Third, of the Abiding College's most esteemed professors! By the Plaguebringer, next time I come out here on goodwill, I'm going to make sure to bring a fruit salad or something, share it with the entire damn class of hatchling bureaucrats. Now out of my way, whelp, I'm late enough as it is!" And with that, Marik shoved his way past the wildclaw, who simply whimpered and slinked away, thoroughly flustered by the smaller dragon's relentless tongue-lashing. As Marik moved forward, the whispers in the crowd returned to active chatter, no doubt entertained by the scene they had just witnessed.

The commotion had drawn the attention of the bright guardian that oversaw the scroll and his night-coated tundra contact. He let out a boisterous, jolly laugh, inviting Marik over with open arms. "My, my mister - what was it - Kevalth III? I can tell your trek here has been long and tiring, we did indeed miss your presence. I apologize, sincerely, for the trouble, organizing this soiree has been such a task. Somewhere down the chain of command we must've lost someone; we had an arcane and a wind researcher show up that had their invitations on-hand but weren't on the list! These things happen, please, join us."

"Thank you, lord of light, though I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." Marik smiled sincerely, though not because he was 'happy to be there'. His ruse was working better than he had expected, and his ego had become hyper-inflated as a result. This is what he was born to do. Snatching the scroll and running would be no problem at all. That bet, and Davion's cocky tail were going to be his for the taking.

"Ah, of course, of course! I am Scholar Luxien. This scroll... Ahh, this scroll." He sighed happily, delicately scooping it into one of his massive hands and holding it up to his nose. "We discovered this in an excavation near the borders of Dragonhome, buried with the bones and remains of the past, on top of a near-pristine altar. Underground, too! My guess is the altar was magically-enchanted, designed to hold this treasure, designed for us to find it." His eyes never locked with Marik's; it was too locked on the scroll, admiring it as if it were his mate. "I knew the moment I saw it, that it was to be my charge."

"Most excellent." Marik bowed his head. "In the spirit of knowledge, that treasure is rightfully yours, and you have my thanks for allowing us the chance to see it for ourselves before introducing it to your vault. Truly you are a gentleman as well as a scholar." In his mind, however, he fretted; the scroll was the guardian's charge. Perhaps grabbing it wouldn't be as easy as he thought.

"Ahh, yes... Thank you, Academician. Alas, the hour is late, and the time to seal this away in our archives draws near..." He lowered the scroll again, setting it on the table and beckoning the tundra female to roll it up and place it in the scroll case. "Hmm..." He sat and pondered as he watched the tundra stow the artifact away.

"Is something wrong?" Marik asked.

"Yes... You've had such a time getting down here, only for me to stuff the scroll away the minute you get here. That simply will not do. Kevalth, I insist you accompany me into the temple, and we will discuss this great find as true scholars would. What say you?"

Marik lit up like a festival tree. This was all too good to be true! "O-oh, sir! You needn't do... that! I'm not worthy-"

"Nonsense! You may be plague-clan but the treasures of the mind and artifacts of the past do not discriminate in their blessings, do they? Come, come, I insist!" He turned to his tundra assistant again, "Consort, lead on. Take our guest to the vaults; I will take the guardian's route in."

"Rrf." Was all she replied with. Picking up the sturdy scroll case in her fuzzy mouth, she tilted her head at Marik before shuffling off into the crowd, her fluff dragging behind her and her grip tight on the artifact as she muscled her way through with an almost feral determination, no doubt born of loyalty to the guardian, or perhaps fear of what might happen if the guardian lost his charge while it was under her watch.

Marik followed close behind as they navigated the partygoers, with seemingly no one the wiser that he wasn't actually supposed to be there. The tongue-lashing he'd given to the bouncer and the charade he'd put on really lent him credibility. Just enough to get access to the temple where they would escape prying eyes, too.

After separating from the event in the Promenade, they arrived at an ornately carved stone door in the side of the Sundial Terrace quarter, large enough for the medium breeds and smaller to enter through. The two guards, a pair of heavily armored sky-furred wildclaws with their golden eyes stoically locked forward and fearsome lances in their grips, stood aside as the tundra girl grunted at them. With a furry paw, she reached up and touched the light stone that hung around her neck. Not a complex motion, a simple touch. The runestone pulsed, and the stone door jerked open, surprising Marik, who looked to the tundra girl in a moment of confusion. The runestones were keys; only these two dragons seemed to have them, too.

Once inside, Marik was taken aback by the sheer size of the temple, and his steps slowed in awe. Upon entering, they traversed a staircase leading downwards into a massive open cavity beneath the sundial. Majestic statues adorned the sides of the staircase, gargantuan holy pillars dotting the cavern depicting the Lightweaver kept the ceiling supported and were wrapped in towering bookcases, the highest reaches near the ceiling requiring one with wings to reach the tomes. Below them, rows upon rows of more bookshelves lined the floor in a spoked circular pattern, like the wheels of a cart. In it's center was a large clearing on an elevated platform, surrounded by discarded or set-aside books of unknowable subject matter. Dotting the library, a dim, soothing light blanketed the ground and walls, cast by torches of magical make to avoid the fire hazard of so much parchment in one place.

On the far side of the massive cavern, stars and moonlight shone through an opening. Another stone door, this one of enormous proportions, large enough to allow an imperial dragon through, rumbled open. The very walls shook as the bay opened, stone grinded against stone, and slowly Luxien's form appeared behind the wall. Once clear, the guardian took wing and dove into the cavern, somehow miraculously disturbing none of the small books that lined each wall - certainly a practiced effort. Even at a distance, the runestone around his neck glowed brightly, the key to the massive aperture.

Realizing he had frozen in his tracks while all this happened, and the tundra had gone ahead, Marik shook himself out of his awestricken state and spread his rusty red wings to glide down the stairs to catch up. Joining the tundra at her side as she reached the center of the temple, Marik kept his distance to avoid looking too eager.

The tundra set the scroll case down before Luxien, and he raised a large paw to gently pet and scratch her side. "Thank you, my sweet. Good girl." His words evoked a pleased growl and a swishing tail from the tundra. "Now, leave us. Assist the guards in helping our guests depart or take up residence for the night."

With another feral grunt and nod of her head, the female took flight and departed with a few heavy flaps of her wings, exiting through the grand stone portal that the guardian had entered through.

"That's Tyra. One of my many consorts. I rescued her from certain death several years ago, an illness that her clan could not cure. Luckily, I could. After that, well..." Luxien chuckled. "You know how tundras are. Save their lives once, and they'll never leave you alone." He idly fondled the runestone around his neck, triggering it's glimmer again, and slowly the door began to close. Marik frowned a bit as he watched his escape route seal, but cleared his expression to focus on the guardian. "Ahh, but I couldn't ask for a better protege." He picked up the scroll case between two talons with a delicacy that was rare to see in such large dragons. "Now then, would you like to behold the scroll, my friend? Please, do the honors." And he offered it. Straight into Marik's grasp.

"You honor me, Lord Luxien... Sir, if I may, what manner of magic gives larger dragons access to this sacred temple?" He took hold of the scroll case.

Luxien did not let go.

Before Marik could open his maw to question, the artifact was snatched from his grasp again, and in the blink of an eye, Marik was in an entirely different world. With frightening speed and accuracy, Luxien had spun around and slammed Marik with the brunt of his tail, hurling him off into the corner of the temple where he collided with a hardwood bookshelf, sending several dusty tomes in all directions. His orientation was shot, his breath was knocked from him, and he feared a rib or two had been broken in the impact with the tail or the bookshelf. As he struggled to find his breath and his footing, Luxien had closed the gap in mere seconds like something out of a nightmare and had scooped him into his vice grip talons.

"How stupid do you think I am?!" He roared, making Marik's ears ring. "The Plague Fleets haven't had an 'Academician' caste in almost three decades! The Abiding College fell twenty-six years ago and made way for The Decaying Lyceum and their Acolyte caste! And even if you had known that, we wouldn't have invited a plague-clan to these hallowed grounds for anything other than summary execution!" The guardian spat and growled, turning and hurling Marik helplessly towards the other wall.

"Shit, shit, shit...!" Marik thought to himself as he began to panic, hurling through the air. He collided with a stone wall this time, where he felt his shoulder disconnect from it's socket before popping back in again. Adrenaline surged through his veins, dulling the pain of his battered body, scrambling and managing to kick himself off the ground and into the air, desperate to avoid another grapple by the guardian. Still dazed and fumbling to stay airborne, he panted and gasped, trying to catch his breath and get as high as he could while regret clouded his mind. They had been aware of his charade this whole time, and Luxien had gone through all this just to bring him down here to kill him. How could he have been so stupid? He knew it was all too easy, but he'd bought into it anyway. He'd played right into the palm of his hand! Damnit! Damn him, damn Luxien, damn this mission...

He wanted to kick himself more, but there was no time; Luxien was in the air with him and closing the distance fast. Closing his wings, Marik fell towards the ground with his nose pointed down. Luxien was on his tail, just barely out of reach, snarling. Just before he made contact with the ground, Marik flung his wings open, catching wind that painfully pulled up on his wings and damaged torso but sent him shooting forward.

He had hoped the guardian, in his rage, would crash to the ground, having none of the maneuverability and ten times the mass of Marik, but his hopes were quickly dashed as he found himself suddenly encased in a painfully bright net of energy and pinned to the ground. Luxien had abandoned his chase before meeting the ground and had been weaving a spell to capture him.

"A valiant effort, thief." Luxien spat and landed mere feet from Marik's imprisoned body. He'd summoned a magical barrier of light that had snared Marik, burning him at every contact point on his body. Within moments, the adrenaline could not dull the pain anymore, and Marik flailed and yelled out in pain, trying to shake off the holy snare to no avail. Luxien continued, his voice booming over Marik's pained shouts. "But you're out of your league. Every combat maneuver, every dirty trick employed by a plague dragon, thief, or assassin is in the very tomes that surround you, and I have read them all ten times over. You would break into my home, steal my charge, and disgrace our flight, our mother the Lightweaver!" He scooped up Marik again in his massive hand, dispelling the holy web, but nearly crushing Marik in his grasp. "Why...?" He held Marik to his face, narrowing his eyes.

"WHY?!" Luxien roared, sending Marik's head swimming and applying squeezing pressure that he could swear nearly removed his eyes from their sockets.

Before Marik could recover from the earsplitting roar, he found himself dropped to the ground, and the air was filled with more roaring, this time, from Luxien in pain.

Gasping for air and scuttling backwards frantically, Marik saw what had become of his captor. Davion had joined them when the massive door had opened earlier, unbeknownst to Luxien or Marik, and as things were looking grim, Davion had thrown an arcane-enchanted dagger into the guardian's left eye with near pinpoint accuracy. With Marik now free, Davion hurriedly began helping his partner up with a comforting brotherly tone in his voice that rarely came from him, "It's alright man, come on, get up. We gotta go." He leaned in and grabbed his partner's snout, pressing his nose to it, whispering crucial information to him. "Get the scroll and get make your way to the guardian's gate, as fast as you can. Let me handle this guy."

Without a word, Marik found his footing and got airborne, having been granted an encouraging second-wind by his partner's timely arrival. He clutched his chest as he flew, and he could taste blood, but a grin crossed his maw as he closed in on the center platform where the artifact scroll sat, unguarded. They may have seen through Marik's facade, but they didn't count on him having a partner - and that was probably the blessing that would save this assignment.

Roaring and swearing, Luxien clutched the side of his face as blood poured from between his fingers. "You... You dare?!" He clenched his teeth as he blinked through tears of pain and blood. Plucking the dagger from his eye with a bloody talon, Luxien tossed it aside and directed his rage towards Davion while Marik dashed for the scroll in the guardian's new blind-spot.

Locking eyes with the larger dragon and giving no indication of where his partner was going, Davion sat on his haunches, spreading his arms out in a taunt. "C'mon, big guy! I'm about to be your worst nightmare, fat-butt! Do you know who you're messing with?!"

Blinded by both rage and injury, Luxien swung wide at Davion with a bloody hand, determined to kill, but having none of the control needed to hit this target.

Infinitely more skilled than his partner in combat, Davion met the guardian's swipe with a leap of his own, dodging the attack and taking flight, darting towards his face, drawing a finely-crafted steel shortblade from it's sheath and slamming the pommel of the weapon on the soft part of the larger dragon's nose with all his might, inflicting a jolt of pain with minimal damage. The recoil of the attack, however, gave Davion another opening. As Luxien jerked away from the attack and snarled with his lips pulled back, the blade spun in Davion's skillful grasp and slashed at the guardian's exposed gum line, this time effectively and painfully rending the soft flesh of his mouth. Stumbling back, the guardian would not relent, despite his failings. "You will not have my charge! Neither you nor-" His eyes, even his bleeding one, suddenly widened as he remembered the other, and that he'd left his scroll unattended. He spread his wings, ready to intercept Marik and rescue his artifact, but was interrupted as Davion lunged forward and dug his blade into the chest of the guardian, severing the chain that held the runestone and prying apart the scales beneath. Eyes aglow with arcane energy, shoving his blade and breaking the flesh with magic channeled through the steel. Luxian roared out in pain as blood gushed from the burning flesh wound.

"Not today, buddy! I know your kind, I know your element!" He gruesomely and painfully twisted the blade as punctuation to his battlecry. "And if it's one thing you light-types hate, it's encountering something unknowable! You'll never unravel the arcane! The Arcanist sends his regards!" Davion laughed and pulled his blade from the guardian's body, leaping backwards and getting airborne as he sheathed his blade.

"Davion! Let's go!" Marik had acquired the scroll and it's case, and was standing near the large entryway that the guardian had entered from prior.

Luxien clutched his new wound, fumbling to keep his runestone safe, but touching it in the process and causing the gate above to open again. His eye, mouth, and chest bleeding as he grimaced and watched the pair of skydancers make their escape, desperation began to overcome him and destroy his rage. The blood ran down his scales in large drops; it was messy and gory to a smaller dragon like a skydancer, but his wounds were all non-lethal to such a large dragon. Nonetheless, they had ravaged his weakest points, and had stolen his charge. With his one working eye on his aggressors, he cried out, defeated. "No! Please! Someone help! My charge! Come back, I'll pay you double! Triple! Bring the scroll back! We can overlook this! Anything but my charge!!" He fumbled with the runestone around his neck, desperately trying to close the entryway and stop them from fleeing.

The hatch continued to open, unable to be closed again in the process, and the thieves were out before they could be stopped. The sounds of combat and the guardian's cries for help were drawing attention however, and guards were on their way. Summoning all his strength and adrenaline once more, Marik took off running before leaping into flight, followed by his partner, and they rocketed off as fast and low as they could. "Head east, Marik! I want to lose them in the Viridian Labyrinth!" Davion called from Marik's wing.

Angry roaring and hissing could be heard behind them; Davion glanced over his shoulder to see a pack of very angry mirrors charging them, followed by a group of tundras in flight gaining on them just as quickly, elemental rage surrounding them in the form of a golden glowing aura. Leading the tundra pack was Tyra, the guardian's mate, seething with feral rage. "Uhh, might want to pick it up, Marik! Higher! Over the trees!"

Grunting, pain wracking his body with each flap of his wings pulling the bruised muscles and strain in his chest, Marik struggled to keep himself afloat and a grip on the artifact. Through great effort and agony, he managed to lift himself above the tall trees, calling on all his strength and rage to fuel his flight.

As they flew above the woods, the mirror pack broke off their chase; they couldn't maintain their speed through the thick brush or in flight, but the tundras persevered.

Showing increasing concern for his partner, Davion worriedly watched Marik struggle to keep pace with his injuries. Cursing under his breath, he called to Marik. "Keep going, Marik. Don't stop until you reach the Viridian Labyrinth, take cover somewhere along the coast, and slow down once you get over the ocean, don't you dare go dying on me, you hear me? I'll piss on your corpse, I swear to Shadowbinder!"

"W-what??" Marik did a double-take at his wingman, but Davion wasn't there to answer. He'd stopped and turned around, and was going to confront their pursuers. "Damnit, Davion..." He grunted, cursing his partner's reckless diversion, but knew that he and the artifact would be in far more danger if he stopped to help. He snapped his eyes forward again and made a concentrated effort to put as much distance between him and his pursuers as possible. Behind him, sounds of combat and scuffling grew; roars of pain and shouted taunts.

Things had gone to hell at the end of this assignment, he had to believe that Davion would pull this one back from the brink. Despite all the times they butted heads, he never wanted to return home without his partner; no one else would have the synergy with him that Davion had, and Gavorn knew it just as well as he did.

The sounds of combat faded, as did the glow from the cities of light that he left behind. Land vanished from beneath Marik's body, and was replaced by water. Over the straits between the light territories and the Viridian Labyrinth he flew under the cover of night, until below him was lush and verdant greenery. Along one of the rocky coasts of the Nature domains, an overgrown, abandoned cavern caught his eye. Vines and tree roots hung over a deep blackness large enough to cloak Marik from prying eyes and possible intruders. He had not deviated from his path from the Light fleets to this land, so Marik hoped that Davion would catch sight of the small cave as well.

He descended to land within the small indentation in the rock face where the stone and overgrowth concealed him. Inside was just enough space to curl up and rest, to catch his breath and hopefully ease his pain after that fiasco. Breathing as deep as his damaged chest would let him, he let out a chuckle, then began to laugh merrily to himself as he looked over the scroll case in his hands with the artifact tucked away within it. He would rest here tonight before returning hope, his mission complete with no damage done to the fleet. They would certainly be riled up for a long time, but hopefully they wouldn't find a way to trace the heist back to their clan in Dragonhome. A successful mission always felt good, and the surge of euphoria dulled the pain in his chest as he lied down and shut his eyes to rest...

***

Exhausted from the fight with Luxien and the harrowing escape from the Light clans, Marik had accidentally fallen into deep sleep, only to be awoken a couple hours later.

As he had predicted, Davion had warded off their attackers and lost their trail before breaking off his diversion to hunt for Marik in the Nature territories as planned. He didn't seem to be sharing in any of Marik's euphoria, however, and tossed Marik's discarded attire off somewhere into the back of the cave.

With a jolt, Marik was awoken rather rudely by a pair of hands around his neck, causing him to gasp and flail for a moment, thinking he was under attack. Once he realized his partner was the one handling him, he attempted to swat his arms away, to little avail. "Davion, what the hell?! It's nice to see you but-"

"Shut up." Davion clamped his hand over Marik's beak and gave his head a tug into his groin, where he met Davion's exposed and hard shaft. It was wide, pink, and lined with skydancer's signature pleasureful bumps and ridges along the long, tapered length. "For your sake, you'd better start sucking."

Marik, having forgotten about their wager, headbutted Davion in the stomach, causing him to stumble back while Marik wrenched himself out of his grasp. "Are you fucking insane? Luxien beat the crap out of me and you're trying to-"

"Did you forget our bet?" Davion lunged back at Marik with a carnal rage that was borderline uncharacteristic for him. He jumped on top of Marik, shoving him to the ground and grabbing his neck again. "I just spent what felt like an eternity saving your sorry hide from your little whelpling bruises and then hunting you down with some of my fur torn off and one good flesh wound on my back. I lost some wing, too, and you're gonna pay for it." He growled, shifting his body to present his manhood to Marik's maw again. "You owe me, and I'm calling in that debt right-fuckin'-now! Now you'd better start licking good, or I'll take you dry, 'partner'."

Despite his crudeness and forcing upon him, Marik couldn't help but find his own anger dwindling while his arousal grew. He'd never admit it aloud - sometimes he even denied it to himself - but he liked this Davion. He wasn't about to cave yet, though. He couldn't make it look like he enjoyed it... And he wanted to see just how far he could get Davion to go for his satisfaction. With his characteristic aggression, Marik snapped at Davion's length, intentionally missing, but clacking his teeth frightfully close to his flesh, enough to make Davion pull back. "Fuck off, the bet is off. Neither of us could count on the assignment going the way it did, and I had them eating out of the palm of my hand until they got me alone." He growled and twisted his body, grunting and letting out a pained yelp as he was reminded of his chest injury. "D-damnit..." He coughed and righted himself again.

"What's the matter? No condition to fight me off?" Davion forcibly grabbed Marik's snout a third time, this time with both of his hands, prying open his muzzle with a strength that Marik couldn't summon in his jaws. Davion, eyes aglow with a fiery lust, pressed his nose to Marik's and whispered into his mouth, his voice threatening. "Third time's the charm, yeah? You're not getting away with an empty tailhole tonight. Now you can make it easy on yourself and suck me until I'm soaked, or I'll give you one more thing to be sore about. This is your last chance, buddy."

A shiver shot through Marik's spine, an involuntary twitch that he quickly attempted to mask by turning it into a slight struggle. Managing to wrest his face from his grasp again. "Grahh... Fine, you bastard. Let's get this over with." He chuffed, snarling up at Davion.

The sneering and snark did nothing to deter Davion, who didn't even have a second thought before straddling Marik, standing over his neck and grabbing one of Marik's small horns and pulling him into his groin once more, this time forcing his cock into the other skydancer's mouth.

Still growling, though none too displeased by the textured girth that now filled his maw, Marik let Davion do as he pleased. With his horns in his partner's grasp and his body pinned by him as well, Marik found himself salivating more than usual with Davion's shaft stuffing his muzzle, the bumps and ridges tickling his tongue and his frustration manifesting in the form of gooey, warm fluid that streaked his tongue with each motion of his hips into Marik's jaws.

Above the restrained Marik, Davion was in a state of crude euphoria. His tongue hung from his maw and he panted, huffing and moaning softly as he used his partner for some much needed stress relief. Relentlessly, he continued to pull Marik's horns into his groin while offering rolling thrusts of his own hips. After a few moments, he released one of his horns, and reached beneath Marik's snout to cup his lower jaw. "Stop swallowing, you slut." He commanded lewdly, "Slather it around. Make it nice and messy for me."

Chuffing and glaring up at him, Marik begrudgingly complied. He worked his tongue around Davion's girth, sucking but not swallowing, letting it coat his tongue before working it around and over every inch of it he could navigate. Tilting his head this way and that, he did as he was told, turning his favor into a gooey mess that spilled from the sides of his mouth and chin as he swayed back and forth.

Soon satisfied by the messy development, Davion grabbed the base of his shaft and pulled out of the other skydancer's maw, using it as a tool to scoop up some of the spillage on the sides of his face before stepping back and forcing himself between Marik's hind legs, dragging his furry tail over Marik's own pink shaft, poking from his silver furry belly. "You sure look excited." He grinned deviously, taking a firm hold on his partner's length.

Any resistance by Marik was met by pain of sore muscles and overpowering by Davion's desire. Writhing and trying to keep his legs from being separated or his cock toyed with only caused strain on his part, and frustration on Davion's.

"You think I'm finished?" Davion snapped at one of Marik's feet, catching him between his teeth and turning it into a sharp bite. "I've got a deposit to make, now spread 'em."

Still putting up a faux-resistance, Marik spat out the leftover mess onto the ground and swore again. "Sure, you sick son of a bitch...!" He grunted and kicked, this time kicking Davion square in the stomach - completely by accident, and very hard. His eyes widened for a moment as he realized he had applied too much force and in that instant, he felt a tinge of worry for the coming storm.

With a sudden expulsion of breath caused by Marik's inadvertent kick, Davion's temper flared. "Oh you little shit!" And threw himself on top of Marik's body, pressing their chests together and forcing his cock into Marik's rump with dominating force and speed.

Marik roared out and clasped his talons into his partner's shoulders as he was immediately taken by an enraged Davion, his length throbbing and gushing out a bit of his own anticipating fluid. The sudden penetration and ensuing stretching pain sent his head swimming and his vision blurred. Clawing futilely at Davion's shoulders in a very real plea to get him to restrain himself and slow down, he found himself at the mercy of his partner's desires. As the pain in his lower body subsided, he became aware that Davion had dug his teeth into his neck. The flesh wasn't broken, but he was keeping Marik pinned in a painful breeding vice grip typically used to pleasure and ensure a female was made pregnant. Davion's intentions were very clear, and all Marik could do now was wait for him to finish; all thanks to his unintentional attack.

Grunting lewdly with each thrust of Davion's hips into his, Marik chuffed and spat, growling and still trying to find strength to fight him off, though putting up a pitiful effort with limp limbs and weak pushes. Davion's rough mating was quickly turning pleasurable as the lubrication in his vent slickened each movement and his ridges began to press against his sweet spots. The growing enjoyment was sapping energy from him and replacing it with a carnal bliss that was impossible to resist.

Davion took notice of this. He dragged his teeth away from Marik's neck, raking them over his flesh, still slamming his shaft into his hinds as he clutched Marik's throat with a taloned hand instead. Gripping tightly beneath his skull, he forced their eyes to lock while he continued to rut him. "You really are a pitiful fucking fighter, Marik. You love this don't you?" His grip tightened, making breathing hard and a response nigh-impossible.

"Nrrff..." Marik bared his teeth, flustered and finding it difficult not to cave in and admit to his approaching orgasm. The bumps along Davion's cock were slipping in and out, past his rim.

"You love this, don't you?" He asked again, in a low, sultry whisper.

Exhaling vigorously through his nose, he kept his eyes locked with Davion's, scowling and kicking his legs helplessly in the air while pinned beneath his captor. He didn't want to reply. He wouldn't. He wasn't going to climax... Even with Davion's long tip grinding forcibly into his prostate.

"Don't you?!" Davion choked Marik harder and punctuated his question with a demanding and powerful thrust into his tailhole.

That was it. The dirty talking, the choking, and the domination that he'd displayed sent Marik tumbling off the edge into a powerful orgasm, the likes of which he had never experienced before. Using all his available breath to cry out, he roared, grabbing and clawing into Davion's arm with his talons in an attempt to get air as he began to erupt, spraying a heavy, sticky mess onto his and Davion's body, even reaching his chest with the force of the climax. Gasping for breath, Marik's airways were cleared as Davion released his throat and came to a stop, propping himself up over him, hands on both sides of Marik's head.

Looking down and admiring the gooey mess that his partner had made, Davion chuckled between his own panting breaths. "Wow..." He sounded sincerely impressed for a moment. "That's what I thought."

Marik didn't reply, coughing once and turning his head away with a grumble, refusing to make eye contact. Davion was definitely onto him after an orgasm like that.

Luckily for him, he didn't dwell on that for too long. Leaning in again, Davion held onto Marik's throat again, softer this time, squishing the mess of warm dragon seed between them as he began to rut again. "Now it's my turn... Rrrf..." He growled ferally as he began to take his spent partner again. "Say you're a slut." He commanded.

"Fuck...you..." Marik spat, grabbing onto his arm again.

His talons dug into the fur as he began pummeling Marik's rump again. "Say it. Tell me you love it."

"Rrmph..." He grunted, then choked out the words slowly, between strained breaths. "I'm... a dirty slut, Davion... Finish me off..."

Davion crooned happily and laughed as he continued his vigorous pounding. "Finish you how? I want you to say it. Beg for it."

Marik was spent after his orgasm, and had no strength to resist anymore. He kept his begrudging ruse up, but was secretly more than eager to have Davion finish inside him. "I... I want you to fill me. To the brim." He paused, and for a moment his ruse fell and a particularly happy moan slipped from his maw, and his next words trickled out like a plea. "Like a slut..."

It worked, and very well. Davion released Marik's throat and let out a long, erotic groan of relief as Marik felt a particular heat begin to set in his lower body. Davion erupted messily, spraying Marik's insides with a satisfyingly warm and voluminous treat; one that he'd been dying to release. In several throbbing pulses, Davion drained himself into Marik's silvery vent, filling him with a pent-up cream. Almost immediately, his gratification was apparent. He stopped thrusting, hilting himself as deep as he could reach, and his hand that previously dominated him offered a couple strokes to his cheek. His voice had softened, though his bawdy undertones remained. "Good boy. Very good boy."

Marik simply huffed in reply.

"Consider your debt paid in full." Davion smirked and gave Marik a playful, soft slap to the face as he lifted his body, an obscene wet noise accompanying the removal of his shaft from Marik's tailhole, along with a stringy bridge of white fluid. "Now I suppose we should clean you and bind your chest, yeah?"

Marik scoffed and simply lied there, defeated, stuffed, and secretly sated. "You didn't think to help my injuries before you screwed me?"

"Nah. I was too pissed off. Besides, a couple bruises and torn muscles weren't going to stop you, were they?"

Marik huffed again, saying nothing.

***

After two more days of travel, Marik and Davion had returned to Dragonhome, and presented the artifact they had acquired to Gavorn, within the same cove they had been offered the assignment. Marik was in his thief's garb again, though his chest had been bound beneath for it's injuries.

Gavorn popped open the scroll case, and his face lit up in a smile as he inspected the contents. "Absolutely fantastic. This is going to put our clan on top for sure." He put the scroll back into it's case and set it aside. "I feel you should know, the guardian you stole this from, Savant Luxien, was confirmed to me as a death."

Davion reeled. "W-what? We didn't-"

Gavorn rose a hand to stop him. "Let me finish. Having lost his charge, Luxien chose to commit suicide rather than live with the shame of losing his charge within his own domain. We did not know beforehand that a guardian was in possession of the scroll, nor that he had chosen it as his charge. Furthermore, his mate, Tyra, was exiled for failing her master. Under the circumstances, given the nature of guardians, I will not be invoking blood price for the death or compense for Tyra's banishment. It was unavoidable, and neither event was linked to us in any way. When our arcane client receives the scroll and delivers their payment, you both will be rewarded very, very handsomely. Well done."

Marik bowed his head. "Thank you, sir. It was an honor."

Davion laughed. "Many thanks, it was our great pleasure."

"I will call on you again soon, Davion, Marik." Gavorn nodded. "Until then, you are dismissed.... Oh, and Marik?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Why are you walking so oddly? Your injury was in the torso, yes?" Gavorn tilted his head in genuine inquiry.

Marik became slightly flustered, and blinked a couple times as he conjured a response. "Erm... My legs suffered minor injury from Luxien's attacks. It'll pass in a couple days. I didn't think to bind them. It didn't seem necessary."

"Ah, of course. Very well, you are dismissed."

Davion and Marik bowed once more, and departed, walking out of Gavorn's cove.

Once outside, Davion bumped into Marik's shoulder. "So, why are you walking funny?"

"Fuck you, Davion." Marik grunted.

"That's what I keep you around for, buddy."