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Dragon's Awakening

Darkness. The encroaching void that mortal's fear. Where creatures exist that can snatch, trap, or devour those unprepared or too weak to resist. Like a mold it always creeped in whenever light weakened or waned. It was within such a place that the dragoness Ossai found herself. Lost adrift within the inky miasma over eons of time. Her once grand mind drifting, fading in and out of consciousness over centuries that passed her by. How ill-fitting for one with her pedigree.

The favored daughter of the great dragon emperor, the one he deemed most clever. She'd ruled with him as a vassal, overseeing countless territories and treks of land filled to the brim with their kin and mortal slaves. She'd considered herself a just and fair overseer of each soft skinned creature as if they were her own treasure. Never did she kill needlessly or devour them on a whim, not like the other of her brothers and sisters of her kind. For her loyalty her father had granted her the ability of foresight. The ability to peer into the future, see what would or wouldn't be, guide her actions to get the better of others who sought her ill.

Countless times such a power proved most fortuitous. Helped maintain her territory with a protective claw. For how could one defeat a being that could predict your every move? Though in time such a question started to get murkier. Rebellions rose across the land. Mortals that had been held under claw resisted. Not just by themselves but aided by factions of her kind. It was a new status quo they wanted. One without draconic tyranny. At first Ossai had scoffed at such an idea, seeing their plight as some misguided dream. One that would end in obvious failure. Her father was the descendant of the dragon goddess Bahamut, and none could hope to stand against such power. But something appeared to the patient dragoness. A vision of the world encased in fire. Lands lay shattered and broken, fields barren and littered with the bones of the living. Mountains once teeming with life collapsing on themselves, forests ablaze, scores of dead. This conflict would bring about the end of all things.

At first, she thought it to be wrong. It just had to be. She tried to rid herself of the vision but still it persisted. Various methods she did try to influence it, but it always ended the same. Bahamut granting her platinum scaled aid not to her descendants, but to the rebellious mortals and dragons. Though despite their godly ally, the world would still be left in ruins. What would be left to rule then?

It was then that Ossai chose to seek her out, offer her services to the mercury eyed dragon. Be on the right side of the coming conflict, carve out a section of power for herself. Though despite her aid her father and his most trusted dragons would not go quietly. Their power was still much too strong. Thus, she helped create the dragon orbs. Little magical spheres that could entrap the souls of dragons. Hiding their souls away so none could find them. General after general fell to Bahamut, Ossai and their orbs. The emperor though had one final trick up his scales.

He'd laid broken and beaten on the field of battle. His golden eyes glaring at the being he called his mother. Bahamut had towered over him, poised to deal the final blow but hesitated. He was her son. But that didn't stop him in the slightest. He enacted a wicked spell that shattered the dragoness before everyone else, scattering her soul into fragments across the land. Somehow, her father had gone against the visions that showed Bahamut victorious. As the golden beast cackled at his wicked ploy, Ossai continued along her path, binding his soul to the final orb like all the rest. His final look upon the spell's completion was the worst of all. Not one of anger or malevolence, but one of pity and sorrow.

In time she instructed the forces of Bahamut to build temples to protect the orbs. Placing protective measures to keep inquisitive noses out of it. For if the orbs were cracked, her father would be free. Free to return and enact his will. Return the world back to the way it was. She made certain that both mortals and dragons were needed to break into such temples. That way no one species could bring about her father's return. Despite her goodwill and her plans, she too was betrayed from within. A final tomb was made for an orb yet unmade, and it was to be for her. Bahamut's allies were not so forgiving for her father's actions, and instead took their vengeance on her. If only she'd realized it sooner.

With a final hiss she'd been ripped from her body, sent spiraling through the air into an orb of solid emerald. The chanting of dragons and mortals her final song to this endless black. Daughter of the emperor was sealed away, buried within a temple with dangerous traps. Lost to time like the forces of order willed it. Just another general of an evil dragon, that heroes rallied to defeat.

* * * * * * * * * *

Then there was blinding light to cast away the inky void like a spear. The dragoness winced, suddenly caught within a grand storm of colors. Vibrant reds, blues, yellows, oranges, all of them swirled around her in an explosion of color. Then came white, flowing around and into her, replacing seemingly every thought. Pain started to rise within her. Dull at first, like a worn stone, but then quickly shifting to the bladed edge of a spear. Her ears rang with a thousand bells, lungs filling with stale air that smelled of old stone mixed with a metallic tang. Images of humans and other mortals flashed before her eyes, seemingly all at once. Places she'd never seen, skies all familiar but not at the same time. She yelled as it seemed to twist around her, becoming part of who she was. Pain spread about her like an unchecked plague, reminding her yet that she lived. She cackled with a voice not her own, a feminine one, raspy, like it hardly spoke a word.

“I'm free!"

Hard, smooth stone. That is what she felt below her. Ossai blinked her new eyes, blurry though her vision was she could make out the stone chamber around her. Shapes of all sizes clung to the corners of this grand room, getting clearer and clearer with every blink. First came the stone vases, then the sealed sarcophagi, pillars that spread out toward the ceiling like a forest, and finally the human corpses all smeared in their own blood. One among the rest carried a torch within his twitching hand, it's flame slowly flickering out, just like it's owner. Slowly she rose with wobbly legs. She shook her head, taking a first step and stumbling to the floor. Olive colored hands flung out to save her, cushioning her impact to the hard stone.

Hands? Ossai ignored the concern of the dead bodies to focus on her five fingered digits, quivering before her eyes. This wasn't her draconic body! These weren't the claws covered in green scales that she was used to! She glanced down to see her skin was not adorned in any clothing, only adorned in runes of black that were tattooed to her skin. She was female if she had any guess by her breasts and rounder hips.

“A…..human…body?" She mouthed the words hesitantly with chapped lips. She reached around to pat the rest of her, realizing that she was almost bone thin, like she'd been malnourished. When she got to the top of her head her ears turned out to be pointed, her chin fair and pointed. No not human, but an elf.

But how? She went to rise but stumbled again. She cursed herself with gritted teeth, ignoring how her shin had struck the stone like a sledgehammer.

Stupid two legs.

Why the gods had not decided to give them four was beyond her. It was so much easier that way. Most other things had at least four. With a relaxing breath she crawled to the scene of red gore and blank faces. Where the bearded men had met their grizzly end.

One among the gambeson clad men was one adorned in orange robes gilded with golden threads, thick purple lines traced the edges. Potions and scrolls were latched to his belt by tiny threads, some even had weapons that lay within sheaths undrawn. Whatever had killed them had been swift and brutal, hardly leaving a mark on them. Only a single deep cut around their necks, a valley of crimson gore, pooling upon the stone.

“Well…enough time as an elf I think." She focused on what magical strength she knew how to wield. Shifting one's form wasn't uncommon among her people. Especially to see what other animals were like. All one had to do was the proper movements and focus, let the energy guide about your body. Weaker souls might not be able to do it, but she was hardly that. She did the required focus, moved her hand in the way she was supposed to, but nothing happened. Not a single flicker of magic was summoned up from within.

What trickery is this?

Her eyes widened as she repeated the motions, this time with a tad more urgency. Nothing. It was like a dam had been placed on her soul, stopping the magic from flowing. As she shakily rose to full height she cursed. Of course there would be more complications. Her brow stitched together as she stared at the brutal carnage of the humans. She was stuck. Stuck within this weak and frail form. No magic to call upon, at least in the meanwhile. Until she found a way to escape it.

'Stupid…..Stupid…Stupid." She approached the humans, kneeling to sift through their pockets and things for anything useful. She relieved them of a leather pack that'd survived undamaged, filled with sullied scrolls and broken potion bottles within. The only things that hadn't been broken or ruined were a roll of rope and a journal in a language she didn't understand. But the questions prominent on her mind was where she was, and where she was going to go. She stashed the journal in the pack with an irritable grumble. She'd made sure to understand all the mortal tongues. What was this one she didn't know? She was going to have to get to the bottom of this. Find out where exactly she'd ended up. Get even with those two dragons and their human cohorts that'd stabbed her in the back. But first she needed to get out.

Luckily this form could see in the dark, as the man's torch from earlier had gone out. She followed a wind's whine as it echoed through the temple's walls. The place was decorated like the temples she'd helped create. Large carvings of bowing mortals below the orbs, showing the souls of the dragon emperor's children being sucked within. She scowled at such a picture. If only she'd been aware that they were going to be used on her. That's what she got for trusting the “good" dragons. By the time she was emerging to the vine covered entrance, she was cursing, shielding her eyes as the sun shown daggers into her eyes.

Scores of oaks, pines and various other trees were spread out before her like a wall. Round and round their roots sprouted from the ground like wooden snakes, begging to catch feet unaware. Yellow flowers burst about the base of such trees, joining the moss that clung to their bark. The forest enchanted her first image with sounds of birds singing, insects humming, and the ever faint whisper of the wind ruffling the leaves. She tasted lavender in the air as she took her first step, the sun's warmth an enchanting thing on her olive skin. No dragons to see, no armies of mortals to greet her. It was a picture of peace. Now wasn't that odd.

She turned around to bear witness to a temple bearing the same design she'd helped create. A towering thing with doors meant for dragons, all draped in moss and vines. Large sections of stone had collapsed into the broken earth, looking more like ruins than a proper kept tomb. The thought made her eyes widen as she lingered on the ruins for a tad longer.

How long has it been?

She had the tingling suspicion that it wasn't just for a short amount of time. Things just didn't crumble away like that after a few years. But what happened?

“Woah there lady." Came a gruff voice, cutting through her scattered thoughts. “What happened to the others?" She turned to see a scratchy bearded man, holding a crossbow at the ready with trembling hands. His eyes were wide, traveling from her feet to her head. “And why you covered in blood?"

She peered down at her hands. It did appear while walking around them and sifting through pockets had picked up some dried gore. Well this was going to complicate things a tad now wasn't it? Especially with the way this man shook. Though by her accounts he was larger than her. In muscles and in height. He wore nothing but a sweat soaked gambeson, trousers of grey, and leather boots all scratched and stitched as though they were sewn together at least a dozen times.

“Well? Ya mute?"

Well she understood him. That was the good news of the minute. The dialect may have been off but she certainly recognized the words. It was common tongue, known to most humans and beings. Scared if she had to guess. “The humans inside? They're dead."

“Well damn!" The man's mouth fell open, “You talk! I'd thought you wus mute!"

“Of course I talk." Her nose wrinkled as the man didn't relinquish the shaky grip on his weapon. She glared at his stained woolen tunic, and his scruffy beard. “Have you not evolved the ability to speak?"

“Not that! You is a bonded! They don't talk lady!"

She took a tentative step, he waved his weapon at her signaling her to stop. “Then why did you ask me the question then?"

“Scared! Don't you see the blood on you?"

“Yes. It's not mine."

“That isn't comforting!" He shook his weapon at her, taking a step back himself into the grass.

Right. “If you could take me to your nearest dragon lord I can explain everything that's been happening."

“Dragon who sits?" The man's brow rose as his weapon fell.

Oh great. She was dealing with a moron.

“What you mean dragon lord? We don't got any!"

“Not any?" She froze. How was that possible? Surely there would still be some lordly dragons around right? Some scale clad brethren holding land somewhere of value. “How is that possible? Surely there must be one around."

“Least not these parts lady. Must have hit your head something awful. And where's your master? The one holding your leash so to speak?"

Was that the man in there? The one with the orange robes gilded with all manner of golden threads? “My what?" She snarled, “Who do you take me for? Having a master? I am no slave child."

“But you a bonded. Bonded have masters. That's who controls their magic. Don't tell me he was one of the dead ones back there?" The scruffy man pointed behind her. “You kill them?"

“No." She hissed, wary eyeing the sharpened bolt still loaded in his weapon. Normally such a thing wouldn't give her pause, bright emerald scales to take the arrows bite. But within this fleshy form such a thing could end her. She didn't relish the thought of finding out what would happen to her if her body perished. Though, how did she escape the orb? They were meant to last forever. Concerning thoughts for perhaps another time when she didn't have a man holding her at weapon point.

“Then what happened?" His voice cracked, eyes darting back to the entrance. “Was it monsters? Some eldritch horror with tiny tentacles that travel around your butt?"

“Good gods no." She gagged at the image. “What sort of things have you been listening to?"

“Listen lady. I've actually heard of stranger things. Butt tentacles are the least harmful thing I've heard of. There was this awful parasite few years back that crawls down your throa-“

She waved off his story. “Another time to entertain me with your grotesque story. In the short end I didn't do nary a thing to my master and that of the people with him. When I woke my head was pounding and they were dead, surrounded in a pool of their own blood." She turned around to peer at the entrance, putting on an act as if she were scared. “Was horribly frightful. I wouldn't want to see it again."

“Makes sense." The man shouldered his weapon. “Can you take me to them then? Say some words for the departed and all."

“Do I have to? It was as I said." She pretended to gulp. “Dreadful."

He sighed, taking a few steps towards her. “I understand miss. But they must have some words said. Plus…If they aren't going to be using their loot." He grinned, showing off all his teeth. “Might as well give it to someone who will."

Evidently there was no honor among the dead. Or at least with this man. But when she hesitated, he flashed her the weapon with a smile. Clearly, she was at the disadvantage. She complied, leading the hesitant man back through the maze of stone to his very deceased friends. His pathetic whines fell upon her uncaring ears at each intersection she helped navigate him through. She'd seen plenty of dead mortals in her time. Not to mention dragons that had been felled low by her claws. What was one dead body from another? When they finally came to the room he collapsed, crossbow clanging to the ground out of shock. Apparently, he hadn't seen to many bodies.

“Oh god." The man collapsed, face scrunching up. Ossai regarded him with a tad amount of pity. While they had no emotional attachment to her, they certainly did for him. Or at least she thought they did. For he started bursting out laughing in the next second. “Good fer nothing. Knew it was a bad idea to follow a magister. Take that you blighted arse! Look where you ended up!" The man stood, thrusting a finger as if it were a dagger. “Should have listened to me you swine!"

“Ahem." She coughed into her palm, certain she did that right. “I have completed my end of the bargain. I need a way to remove these runes." She gestured to the runes covering her body. Already she could feel a bile build in her throat at them. When the man just turned to her with a raised brow she nearly snapped at him. Though she kept her calm. “What's the matter human? Is it odd that I'd not like to remain a slave?"

“Yea, yea. I got you." He waved off her concern, wiping the tears from his eyes. Though they widened when he caught sight of the orange robed man. “Well shite. I forgot about that." His hands went to his face, fingers rapidly tapping at his lips as the man bit it.

“Well?"

“I'm thinking I'm thinking!" Again he waved her off, warning her to not get closer. “I still don't trust ya." But then she stared at him and he tossed her a sheathed dagger plucked from one of the corpses. “Here. Take what you need from this lot. After I get a look." He crouched low, cutting all their coin purses and sifting through their bags for any valuable items. He plucked a golden chalice, a stone idol in the shape of a wiggling snake, and a preserved miniature bone harp. Though she took note he avoided the orange robed man.

“Why not loot him? Surely he would have the most valuable stuff?"

“Probably. But I don't want to get caught with a magister's stuff." The man chuckled. “Good way to end up bound and hung. I not so good with words, and I don't want to explain how one of them finger wigglers got killt on my watch."

“Just tell them the truth." Her arms crossed. When she took a step he waved her back.

“I said wait your turn. And like I'd go doin that." He scoffed at her idea. “Crazy slave lady." He grumbled underneath his breath. He perked up as he rummaged through another sack, gathering together some garments and throwing them to her arms. “Here, put these on. Cover your markings. Hide what ya are."

Ossai pulled back the pea colored woolen vest, and the vomit brown stained trousers. They seemed to be held together with patchwork stitching. Like it was made from multiple squares instead of simply longer ones.

“You expect me to wear these?"

“If you don't want to be caught and taken away in chains? Yea."

“Thanks." She grumbled, slipping her legs into the trousers. “..um.." She gestured for his name.

“No names." He hissed, tossing the last bag to the ground. “I don't want them following me. You don't want them following you." He turned to her with a hardened look. “Now you head east of here. You go your way I go mine. There's a town not to far. Called Steer's crossing. Lots of farmers there liked the cows, don't go questioning me on the name."

“I wasn't asking." She hissed, slipping on the vest. Both her garments were loose fitting, but a simple sash plucked from one of the dead men resolved that problem.

“Good. Now you might find some folks there that can help. Just remember to avoid the magisters." He flicked a bony finger up and down from her head to her feet. “They won't think twice bout turning you back to slave. Less you into that sort of thing."

“And why not return me if I'm so valuable?" She eyed him suspiciously. “You seem the sort out for coin no matter where it comes from."

“Thought about it. Not worth the neck ache." Man shrugged. “I'd have to explain the dead magister." He gulped, face shriveling as he imagined the action. “I'd not like to end up decorating a tree with me good looks. Also my neck is rather allergic to ropes."

“Lucky me."

“Exactly!" The man laughed, “Now you're thinkin. Keep that up and you'll do alright."

When the man gave her permission, she dug through the rest of the gathered things. Especially that of the magister. She got an odd look and a warning, but she ignored it. He had lots of coin, and she imagined that it would be useful in the road ahead. Mortals if she remembered could be swayed with it. They at least shared that trait with dragons. She procured a map of the surrounding area, to which she asked about. The man explained they were in a forest known to others as the forest of gadaria. A place on the border of the kingdom of Thrustam to the west and the kingdom of Lumara to the east. She rolled up the parchment, taking note of all the other kingdoms scattered around the color-coded map. “And which ones are dragons?"

“Dragon kingdoms?" The man laughed as they made their way back to the entrance. “None. Most of those are humans. Think there might be an elf one or two. Not entirely sure. Maybe by the coast."

“Fascinating." She maintained a calm face, despite the urge to grind her teeth. No dragon kingdoms? What had happened in the time she was gone? She'd have to get to the bottom of this. But first, getting free of this elven prison she inhabited.

“I know! Really boggles the mind. You ask me those leaf munchers are going to be overtaken one day. Mark my words."

“So, Steer's Crossing?" She asked as they emerged into the light, shielding her eyes from the sun. She'd rather not hear about another race that humans would overcome. The darker part of her mind suggested they'd done the same to dragons. Toppled and scattered the would-be lords of the world. She shook her head. Surely, they hadn't done that. Not after they'd worked together to defeat her father. What kind of ally would destroy something that helped them?

“No names." He hissed at her, returning to where she found him. “And no following. I don't want none of them magister bastards on my tail."

“Don't worry." She scowled. “I won't even remember you."

“Good plan!"

She pulled out her makeshift map, finding the town marked with an X. At least she had a destination in mind now. With a heavy sigh she took her first steps into the forest and onto the road of her adventure.

* * * * * * * * * *

Elves just like humans had soft claws. Easily bruised or stabbed into by the slightest sharpened rock or twig. The least useful claws she'd ever seen. They didn't even a long talon to scratch or cut, nor adequate teeth to defend themselves. No wonder they needed tools of sharpened wood and stone. They were practically helpless! Like tiny wrymlings! How they'd done anything was beyond her.

“Stupid claws!" She hissed jabbing her claw onto yet another jagged point, hopping onto one leg. With shaky breath she waited for the ache to subside, weakly limping through the underbrush with a curse.

Multitude of green fauna surrounded her. Some prickly with multiple thorns, others that curled around trees like a form fitting dress. Others dangled just above her head with purple, waxy leaves, she avoided those as they moved softly without a breeze to guide them. Roots had sought to trip her when she wasn't watchful, mindful of any loud noise of rustling bush that tickled her ears and bid her to jump.

“Stupid instinct." She cursed herself more than once at such an action. How non befitting a dragon this was to be. To be trapped within such a useless body. One without defenses and jumped at every sudden noise. One that ached from not even a full day of travel! Clearly this was the work of the slave creature, and hopefully not of mortals in general. Not that it helped her.

Though she complained and spit on her form, the forest still was lovely as she remembered them. For oaks, birch, mahogany, pines, and many others dotted the landscape for as far as she could see. Robins flew overhead, dancing and weaving their ways through the numerous branches with pleasing chirps. Once or twice she'd caught the slow-moving form of a deer or three, perking their heads to quickly check their surroundings for predators. She'd have loved to hunt such creatures and tear into them for her meal, but her aching limbs reminded her of just how feeble she was.

“Can't even do that right." She groaned with gritted teeth, glaring at the path she made for herself. One untamed and unburdened by the travel of mortal feet. She'd passed a river's edge that was adorned with thick reeds and grass, the trees that had been so plentiful had started to recede and fade. She spied several stump-like houses in the distance, thatch roofs peaking above the wall that protected them from any wayward bandits. She scowled at the sun as it had begun it's wayward trip toward the horizon, casting the trees around her in an red-orange glow. One where the entire sky looked to be ablaze. Crimson Sky her father had called it, the omen of something great. Hopefully her salvation resided here within these mortal huts.

She went to take the next step across the river, freezing as she got a good look of the sky. Long flowing clouds spread across it, like winding snakes swimming through a crimson sea. The breeze would blow to guide them along, tickling at what exposed flesh she had. How empty it was. To lack any dragons flying high within its splendor. When she was unbound by the orb that was such a rare thing. On a day of mourning or celebration, but even then, you could count on a single claw the dragons that flew. But to have none in sight? That was a spine-tingling omen. One that licked Ossai's spine with an icy tongue. If only she had her own wings, she could pounce up there, look for miles for her missing kin.

Smoke spires pulled her attention from the empty sky, of fires lit by humans for light or their evening meals. Something else they at least shared with dragons. Hugging tight her vest at another gust of wind, the once dragoness carried onto the village gates. One that whispered in her ears the promise of rest, and maybe something to protect her feet from the harshness of the countryside.

Before the town was a towering gate of weathered wooden planks, at least towering for humans. On either side were portly men with red cheeks, smelling more like distillerys then proper guards. They wore wool gambesons that were stained with sweat, displaying the stitched picture of a bull's head on the right breast. They had thick beards, square jaws, and a glazed over look that only reinforced the notion they were not at full faculties. Spears were held within loose fists as they laughed with bouncing bellie. Amber eyes lit up with warmth as she approached with a composed form.

“Well. What can we do for a pretty thing like yourself?" One man clapped the other on the shoulder.

“Not a thing Jeff, look. She's an elf!" The other one gasped.

“Oh right." The first bowed his head. “Didn't mean nothing by it miss. Just we don't get your kind round here."

“Don't tell her that! She might not want to come in now!" The other guard hissed, smacking the first upside the head.

“Sorry!"

“Don't mind him my good lady. We are always grateful to have travelers around these parts."

She rolled her eyes as the guards struggled to keep their footing. Though she smiled as she told them about her long travel on foot, only needing a place to rest. “I have ample coin if they need it." She jangled a sack full of coins.

“Well. How can we say no to that?" The first backhanded the second one's chest. “And by golly. That's a lot of coin. Shops going to love that!"

“I can see it now. Ole marcy's going to get all lubed up over the sight of so much-“

The first guard back handed the first one. “Not that kind of talk in front of a lady…." He stopped, eyebrow risen. “That a thing in elven culture miss?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded. “Sure. Why not."

“See? Don't go being crude in front of the lady folk!"

“Sorry again miss. Minds be clouded. How bout we just open the gate for ya?" The second guard spun round, knocking heavily at the gate. “Well come on ya git, open the door for the nice lady. She gonna help fill our-“ He turned to her with a sense of seriousness. “You are going to be spending some coin right?"

To appease the man she simply nodded. She was at least going to get something for her feet. Maybe a better fitting vest. One that wasn't stained and ragged of all things.

“See? She's gonna spend coin! Open up!"

The gate parted with a sudden crack, the two guards swishing their hands down to open. Like they were showing off a coming play. “Welcome to Steer's crossing miss. Where everyone welcomes everyone."

“How about the orcs jeff? The ones who do the pillaging?"

“Well course not them." Jeff scrunched up his nose.

“We don't welcome everyone, then do we?"

“Shush your trap Odis. You're ruining the gravitas of the place. The awe."

“Oh right."

Ossai just rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe this had worked. She half expected to explain far longer why she needed to enter the place.

“If you be wanting a room for the night. Might I suggest the Shamblin pony! It's a good place, quaint, small, quiet. It's round the bend here and next to an oak in the shape of this ones mother."

“Hey!"

“Well its true!"

She nodded, leaving the two men to bicker about the appearances of their mothers. The buildings that followed the well-trodden path were simple to say the least. Off-white walls, patches of brown, windows with wooden shutters. There weren't too many to trouble her, but enough to know a sizable town was here. There were several wells for water, horses tied to beams in the street, and many friendly faces that waved her along. Lanterns were already lit on nearly places, ready to fight off the darkness that was quickly approaching.

Long shadows covered the ground, swallowing whole sections of earth She found the place they mentioned with little trouble, it was like the path led directly towards it. Of all the buildings it was an inverse of color, with a towering chimney jutting from several of it's roofs. Small he said, but it was nothing of the sort. It could easily have fit three or four of the homes she'd seen into it. The wood itself had shapes carved into it. Crude bulls and horses along every beam. It looked like someone had started to paint a picture of humans smiling and posing but stopped mid-way through on the furthest corner. From the main double door there was a simple wooden sign, hanging from two thick iron chains. It had the picture of a horse like man, holding a bottle of booze in his hoof like fingers. Bubbles rose from his snout, the caricature winking. Golden letters in thick font were drawn around him, announcing the name proper.

By this point the sun had nearly vanished, the waves she got having vanished. People had retired to their homes for reading, dinner, or possibly even slumber. The chilly air was filled with the whistling wind, and the chatting of people just beyond the tavern door. Her skin shivered, begging her for the warmth of a fire that was sure to be inside. So, she scurried up its wooden steps, grabbed firm the iron knob and pulled the door open. Immediately she was caressed with the warmth inside, curling around every one of her limbs like a tender lover. She slipped inside, shut the door, and sighed in relief.

With the heat came the bitter smell of booze and ale that had been soaked into wood for far too long. Burning timbers laced every scent, mixing with the menagerie aura of spices and roasted meat. Coverings of various woodland animals dotted the low hanging beams, thick pelts from successful hunters. Candles littered the corners and the numerous tables, assisting the fireplace in painting the place with a fiery aura. Tankards clinked as two humans with long mustaches celebrated something before taking long swigs.

From all the tables and chairs there was one long bar, with a scrawny looking human woman clad in a dark brown tunic with grey stitches. Her raven hair was swept to the back of her in braids. She descended upon a table filled with red cheeked men, handing out drinks like prizes. They cheered her name, whistled, and she snapped back with a smile.

“Who wanted the oaf?" She called back, getting a chorus of throaty chuckles and calls for the steaming meat.

“She isn't kidding their boys." From the kitchen doors came a portly looking anthromorphic cat man. His mahogany fur having lightish brown spots. His shirt was ruffled and torn, not to mention stained from all manner of drinks and oils. When he pointed to a table of exceptionally giggling men he waddled to a keg behind the bar, grabbing one of the numerous tankards and starting to fill the thing with a thick, brown liquid from within.

As the door shut behind Ossai, the good cheer suddenly froze. Every face was quickly upon her, silence suddenly striking the place. It was then that it occurred to her how she looked. Smeared in sweat and blood, dirt and grass stains. Not to mention she had no shoes to speak of. That was before she noticed that not a single elf was counting among their number, not even a half-elf gracing their halls. The guards were not kidding, and the silence was only making her uneasiness grow.

It was the raven-haired human to break the silence. She wiped her cheek with a smile, claiming that Ossai was no worse than that lunatic wolven that came in ranting of a giant magical house that chased him for miles. There was a murmur of agreements, some clinking of tankards, and a sudden standoffish atmosphere was swept under the proverbial rug.

“Well what brings ya to the prancing pony? Traveling?" The girl practically swooped in, curling an arm around Ossai's shoulders and starting to drag her towards the bar. “Course I bet you had a whole mess of bad luck. On account of your shoes an all. Always can tell what kind of trouble folk get into on account of their shoes."

“But what of me Mira?" The cat man chuckled, handing two burly looking woman their drinks. He pulled up a white handkerchief that was clinging to his sullied apron. “I haven't got any shoes if you recall."

“Ya but youse got paws." The woman snorted, pulling Ossai to the bar. “That doesn't count in the slightest."

“What makes you think I had trouble?" Ossai freed herself from the woman's arm. There was a moment between them as she stared deeply into the woman's friendly green eyes. “And unhand me. No one touches me."

“Oh sorry miss." Mira bowed her head, “Folks round these parts are awfully friendly. Always forgetin folks don't like to be touched."

“Speak for yourself. I don't mind a fair bit of touchin." The cat wiggled his brow, earning himself a rag plucked off the table by Mira and tossed onto his face.

“No one be touching you Augustus." Mira chuckled, flicking her finger to Ossai's dirt covered feet. “Boots get stolen by some wandering thugs? You got to beat the rest with a makeshift club. We've all been there trust me."

My aren't these humans inquisitive.

“Yes…Yes it was." She said sternly, absentmindedly taking a seat that was offered by the bar. It was exquisite to finally be free of her aching feet, and the fuzziness about her legs. She simply sighed and settled into the off-white cushioned chair. “And no. I didn't have to fend of bandits."

“And you speak funny." The girl chuckled, snapping at Augustus to fetch the lady some water and some of the evening's meal. “You from up north?"

“I'm.." Ossai tapped her finger across the smooth bar. “Not from around here. Not exactly sure in relation."

“Oh and you're confused as well. Sure we ain't sisters?"

“Positive."

“Well let me help you out much as I can." Mira smiled, telling Ossai to wait one moment while she went about cleaning up a spill from a pair of unruly patrons. The girl chastised the fellows like a pair of unruly children, and they cowered just as such. The dragoness just watched in amusement, nearly smiling until Mira had returned. “Just ask away and I'll answer."

So, the dragoness asked her questions. Not starting with about the runes. She learned that Steer's crossing was just over the border into a human kingdom called Lumara. And it unlike the others was ruled over by a sect of wizards called the Magisters. There was one among them that ruled above the rest, one supreme mage that helped keep the others in check. They controlled magic around the kingdom, ensuring that none could cast without their say so. Those that they found to be detriments to their order were bound and shackled, runes applied to their skin and made into magical weapons.

“They called bonded." Mira had sighed, “Terrible thing really. Not to mention the guards and such that work for em. Practical thieves and mercenaries." She sighed, starting to clean a tankard. “Course they help against the monsters and undead and such. Can't be all bad if they do that. Even the king and queen won't make a move against them. Like how they shower them with magic too much." Mira had scowled at that, looking like she'd have wanted to punch the man himself. Several patrons had even grabbed their drinks and moved away, grumbling about the magisters and their protections. “But they's the king and queen. Who am I that I get to question their divine authority to rule right?"

“No human ever had that right." Ossai quickly added before the girl had gone into the healthiness of their crops, the good taste of corn, and how she could brew a mighty ale that would knock the socks off an octopus.

“If they did wear socks that was….Point was they wore eight." The girl blushed at Ossai's raised brow. Though she wasn't focused on her ramblings, it was the mages that drew her interest.

The magisters sounded more like the dragons of her time. Tyrants over the lesser folk. Divinely chosen to wield their might over mortal kind. Ridiculous at it sounded to hear it coming from a human here it was. The spirit of her father's ideals living on in that of what he deemed lesser. She wondered if he would have been proud. Or simply enraged that any human shared anything he deemed valuable with him.

“Girl you best not speak too ill of them." One man whispered over his drink. “You know what their thugs will do if they hear you speak like that."

“Yea, but I don't see any of the orange badge wearing goons in here John. So, you mind your drink and I'll focus on what comes out of my mouth thank you very much."

Augustus returned with a wooden tray of food, brimming with fruit and veggies. Not to mention some cheeses that were diced and sectioned in the corner of the square plate. “What about things going into poor Mira's mouth?" He gave a lewd smirk, accompanied by a twitching ear. He had to duck when Mira swished over, almost swatting him on the head with the back of her hand. “Watch the food lady! Else I'm going to be spilling it all over ya."

“Serves you right for all this lewd talk comin out of ya. Been sippin on the ale tonight?"

“Perhaps." He said one of his whiskers twitching, setting the plate in front of Ossai with a grin. “Here ya are….what was your name again? We never did catch it."

“And I almost forgot." Mira chuckled and smacked her forehead. “You even have coin to be payin for this stuff? I mean its fine if you don't. We can leave the fire goin and you can sleep in the hall." Mira thumbed at her chest. “Never leave people out in the cold. That was my daddy's saying something fierce."

The kindness surprised her, but not to stop the finger to her slender chin. “Names…." She paused. Something she wasn't used to givingg about. Dragons were not supposed to give out their names to mortals. They hardly lived long enough to treasure it anyway. Dragons gave titles and other things so that humans and their kind could spread stories and legends in the dragon's names. Or possible tales of warning. It was then she realized that she'd been quiet to long.

“You do have a name right?"

“Course I have a name." She sneered. “It's Aelen." She nodded as the name of one of her servants rolled off the tongue. “Aelen Starflower. And I do have coin." She plucked from her swiped pack a coin purse. One brimming with platinum coins. When she plucked out three and shown them to the tavern workers, they practically fell back gasping.

“You never mentioned we had practical royalty in here!" Augustus nervously snapped to Mira. “I'd have never been making all the lewd comments.

“So, they were lewd!" Mira smacked him with a rag. “I knew it!"

“You're easy to be lewd to!" Augustus shied away, holding up his hands. “But quick calm yourself in front of the nice lady! Else she won't be spendin the coin here!"

Mira grumbled, wiping her uniform and composing herself with a smile.

“Its really fine girl." Ossai straightened her back. “You can go back to assaulting the male after my meal."

“Oh, I shall." She smirked. “But damn. You never mentioned you had that amount of coin."

“This is a lot to you monkeys?" The one dragoness turned over one of the platinum coins, admiring the gryphon that seemed to be stamped into its surface.

“That there was three hundred gold you have in your hands. Most folk never see that much!"

She dug through the coin purse. Finding at least a dozen other coins of that variety. It would appear the magister she'd plucked this from had been quite the wealthy man indeed. “Then It would appear I will be needing a room for the night." She looked at her ragged clothes. “A new set of these woven clothes. My skin shivers something awful at the mere whisper of the wind. And with my feet how they ache I will no doubt be in need of a pair of-“

“And boots!"

“Yes." She grumbled, peering at her sullied feet. “I will be needing a pair of those. And how much would a room be?"

“We can't go making change." Augustus approached, looking like he was salivating at the mere sight of the coins. “But you give us one of those coins and we'll make sure it be like stayin in the city. You can have the whole floor, anything you want. I'll even send Mira in to bathe you if you want."

“Hey!"

“What? That's what they do in the city places right? Bath houses and the such?" Augustus held up his palms. “So how that sound Aelen?"

It was all the coin she had, and this was as good of place as any. “And can you hook me up with the other things? A tailor and shop to find the other goods?" She imagined if she were to find a person to get these runes removed, she'd have to at least look presentable. Not like a wild woman that had emerged from the forest looking for blood. Humans were fickle creatures like that. Though she detested bringing herself to their level it needed to be done, especially if she wanted to be returned to her normal self. Already it had been far too long. Maybe she would find the appropriate caster among their number. Humans had to have the rudimentary talent for magic, at least these magisters seemed able to do it. “That sounds acceptable." She passed the man the coin, already yearning for a warmed bath.

“Wonderful!" The cat's expression lit up like the sun as he pocketed the piece of coin. 'We'll make sure everything gets done in the morn. Folks round here already hitting the hay, sleepin away. No shops be open at this hour that can fit your needs."

“As I attributed." She sighed, glancing around the dulled over faces of the patrons. Humans weren't nocturnal. Course most dragons didn't spend their nights still awake, save maybe the black ones. They adored the night for their hunts. Her stomach growled rather loudly, like a lion's roar. She scowled at it, but the cat man laughed away and asked Mira to fetch some beef.

She practically leapt at the food like a ravenous dog, shoveling the contents into her open mouth. She tore into the beef with reckless abandoned, letting the juices run down her chin. The pair across from her stood shocked that a being they thought would be elegant was putting on such a bestial show.

“Would…you like a fork and knife?" Augustus laughed with a nervous flick of his ears, holding up a two pronged wooden utensil and metal knife. Ossai wiped her chin with her tongue, snatching the thing from the man's paws.

Right. They use utensils to eat. She smiled, thanking him before returning to her meal. If but a slower pace of her eating. It just felt wrong. Like every fiber of her being was rebelling. But this was the price for blending in, she ate in silence as the pair began cleaning up the bar. Mira was the first to slide over, curious eyes practically sparkling in the firelight.

“So. What's it like up north?" She leaned forward, flashing her eye lids. Was that a human trait to appear cuter? Ossai snorted her response before swallowing down her latest mouthful.

“The north?"

“Yes! Where you said you're from!"

“Oh yes." She tapped her fork against the bar, focusing on a carving of a wolf in one of the crossbeams overhead. How someone had snuck up there to do such a thing was a mystery of her. Maybe with magic? “Dragons out there." She nodded, trying to set the girl's curiousness to an end. She sighed, picturing her winged brethren in the sky. Everything now and then, watching the sun enrich their leathery scales. They'd roar their dominion for all to hear, their announcement touching every inch of the sky.

The girl's response was less romantic, putting an end to her little daydream. “Sounds scary. How can you get anything done with those frightful creatures around?" Mira shivered, rubbing a stained spot with much vigor. “Most folks would be scared to death!"

“Scary?" Ossai met her gaze with a raised brow. She supposed that she and her kind instilled fear. It was something she prided herself in at times. Build into the blood they'd say. But that wasn't all the time. Otherwise the dragons would never have recruited them as allies or became entrusted friends to some. “Dragons don't tend to hunt humans dear." Her nose wrinkled at the disbelief still flickering in the girl's eyes.

“How you know what they think miss? Giant lizards with wings. I've known some big ones to eat folk. Why just a year back my friend's cousin's uncle's nephew wandered along the wrong path of a passing gold dragon. Damn fool was snatched up faster than you could say Grashnadodnadiir."

“Anyone could do something faster than that." Augustus chimed in, collecting the empty mugs of patrons filing out of the place.

“Show some respect for the dead!" Mira shot back as her brows stitched together. “He was an ass, but he didn't deserve to be ate!"

With a sigh she met the girl's eyes, speaking plainly and calm.“Well. I haven't known many to hunt them. I've been told they were quite fishy and gamey. The worst option to eat anyway. They'd be better off eating anything else." She added a chuckle to break the girl's hardened expression, to which it did. Now Ossai had tried mortal flesh some time ago, it was not an experience worth repeating. It lingered for days and soured almost every meal she had after. Maybe that is why dragons found it easier to side with mortals. After discovering one wasn't food they empathized with them.

“Well even if they don't eat you they can be big brutes! Why I heard tale of a red one once that went about burning a whole lake town till, he got his tribute."

“And I've heard tales of humans sprouting wings and flying." She countered back with a smile. “Doesn't make all of them like that."

“But there are folks that can do that!" Augustus started cleaning the kegs, tracing every inch of their spouts with his rag.

“But the question was it his land?" She finished up the rest of her meal, kindly thanking the girl when she took it away.

“How you figure? They don't have land. They not kings or queens, or even lords!" He burst out laughing very much to her ire, slapping his thicker thighs as his tail thrashed in joy filled abandon.

“You realize their intelligent correct? And live longer lives?" Her voice grew tight. Like a hide pulled taught over a drum. “That those mortals might have moved in on his territory. Thus the tribute is their payment for staying on his land."

At her sudden harshness the cat bowed his head. “Didn't mean to disrespect your tale miss. Just saying what's told round here. “Things might be different up north yea?"

“Indeed. For I have tales of dragons that helped mortals. Laid down their scales and gave up everything. Died to protect their charges and ensure they could prosper. So that you could have a fair shake of the tail at this world."

“Really?" Mira leaned heavily on her palms, looking almost dreaming, eyes almost as bright as any torch. “Now if that don't sound lovely. Better to hear those than what comes out of here right? Proper fairy tales!"

“Wasn't there a group of fairies coming around here to tell their tales to the guards and were chased off for disturbing the good folk?"

“You know what I mean. Good stories." Mira scowled. “Not those troublesome one's you dolt." She turned back to Ossai with the same expression as before. Of a wyrmling wanting to hear more stories. And in that moment Ossai had a hard time separating her from the image. One little green scaled dragon on their hinds, wiggling a tail expectantly as she resisted the urge to nuzzle and shower them with licks. Maybe this was how humans had won dragons over, by being so helpless that a protective instinct welled up inside her kin.

“Very well." She gestured for something to drink, having a mug filled with a liquid smelling of blueberries. When she peered into the mug it looked like a rainbow had been hidden just at the bottom. She tasted it and getting a most fruity concoction that bubbled in her mouth and tickled her throat on its descent. With a slurp of her tongue she downed the thing without a thought, and Mira laughed as she refilled it.

She told the woman tales from her time, of the grand silver dragoness Pyyrun who'd laughed and joked that she'd mated with mortals and practically loved them. Then there was Jezer the golden male who delighted in singing for the humans he called his friends. The ridiculousness though she didn't share. A dragon being friends with such short-lived creatures? She scoffed at the very idea, but Mira looked practically enthralled by it. So, she continued, ending with the story of Arsynth, a white dragon that'd she'd almost forgotten, a friend who'd helped convince her to turn against her father.

Ossai suddenly got quiet at the mention of her name, staring deep into her remaining liquid. All gone. Friends and allies alike that she'd insisted on helping. Or at least not around here. She and her kind we're immortal, but she got the sneaking suspicion that it had been far long ago. What once was filed with joy and warmth was suddenly icy and barren. With a heavy sigh she set down the mug, feeling rather sluggish. In fact, now that she thought of it, the entire room felt fuzzy and warm, possibly even spinning if she moved too much. What was going on?

“Here." Mira laughed, placing a key into the wobbling Ossai's palm. “Surprised you handled that much. Most folks can't only handle the one!"

Realization struck her. “You drugged me. Boozed me up."

“Was to help you relax." The girl giggled, taking away the cup. “Nothing more. And you should only get the best. You paid for it right?"

Of course, that's why she'd been so loose tongued.

The damn drink.

Too bad she was too wobbly and fuzzy to scowl at the lady. Well she ended up trying but it ended up being more a smile. She silently cursed herself, unable to do even that right. “How many did I devour?"

“Of the drink?"

“Yesssss." She covered her lips as a burp shook her form.

“Four?" Mira leaned back, arms crossed. She nudged at Augustus who only laughed, confirming the number with a sip from his own mug.

“I liked the story about your dear old gran up in some place called Deet. Had plenty of banners you said?"

She didn't remember that. “Yes." She tried to play it casual, standing to her feet. Though as she did so the entire place spun around her. Or perhaps it was her. All she knew was that Mira rushed over to catch her in her arms.

“Woah there." Mira laughed, settling a caring palm to Ossai's chest. “Let's get you to bed shall we? Don't need the newcomer hitting their head something awful. Not for the money she sank into this place."

August nodded, insisting to get her some extra blankets and pillows.

So, Mira led her up the stairs in the back that creaked under their weight. The railings proved to be a fortunate ally as Ossai's legs seemed determined to send her toppling to the hard-wooden floor. They ascended to the top floor, past numerous other rooms that she figured contained travelers, course she had no proof for this but that's what they were for right? She giggled at it, but Mira only tried to shush her, to which she snapped back with a forceful finger and a hand to her chest.

“No one tells me to SHUSH!" She covered her mouth as she suddenly yelled. Okay, maybe she needed to be a tad quieter.

Her door was a rather plain looking one. Something she'd have attributed to a human peasant if anything, but Mira insisted that it was hers. Ossai asked if there had been a mistake, but again she was met with a blushing girl. Fine, she was going to have to rough it as it were.

The room was revealed with a resounding creek, piercing through the silence like a dagger's blade. It was of simple furnishings, of only a dresser and a single bed. Dirt colored sheets clung to the thin mattress, topped with clay blankets and pillows wrapped in the same cases with white lacing. Ossai toppled onto the bed with a sigh. She chuckled like a drunken fool about the candles covering the dresser and how they looked like a dragon who'd gotten too excited about a female.

“Like a waterfall!"

“Oh miss. I wouldn't." Mira's cheeks were the brightest red as the girl insisted on tucking her in. “Perhaps I shouldn't have kept them coming."

“Maybe." She flopped her head onto the pillow, already forgetting what she'd said. Something about candles and their wax? She mumbled something she was certain, but it couldn't have been anything louder than a whisper. Mira replied with scattered words about morning errands before Ossai's eyes practically shot down on their own accord. How nice of the humans that'd helped her tonight. Like they already knew she was a dragon!

How odd. She mumbled into her pillow as she slipped off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

The first time since her orb did the darkness return for her. It wrapped around her like an inky cloak, pulling tight against her scaled chest. Haziness ran about her like an unchecked fire as the dragoness squirmed and gasped for stale air. She was back in her true form! Groggily she tried to thrash about like a wounded animal, but found herself bound as tightly as chains of the strongest steel. Panic ran amok in her chest as she failed to see anything in the endless avoid around her. Had she only dreamed about escaping her prison? Was she still doomed to be trapped here within an empty hell? She called out for help, anyone to bring her a light. She tried to ignore the chasm of dread building within her belly but it proved too great. She cried out that this was ill befitting for her. She insisted that she helped topple her father. Why was she being punished like this? Her cries turned into desperate pleas that even she would have been ashamed of to admit to anyone. But still, she made them. One after the other for someone to come save her. Anything to peel back the darkness.

As her cries waned, it was replaced with faint roars from around her. She perked up, the familiar sounds of battle making her heartbeat in her ears. There were the desperate shouts of men, the screeches of dragons, and the painful mewing of the dying. Dragon and mortal alike, their cries mixed together into a cacophony of pain and misery that dragged icy claws across her heart. Then came the crackling of fire, the charred stench of burned skin and hair that would wrinkle any muzzle and beg dragons to wretch.

“Is this what you wanted Ossai?" A low guttural voice echoed from the darkness. It freed her limbs from their paralysis but sent fear coursing through her veins. The dragoness trembled as it asked the question again. She knew that voice, it was her father.

She tried to rise to all fours within this blackened void, finding that the floor was soft and mushy. Like fruit that'd been left out too long. The sweet stench of rot rose as the darkness began to recede, fiery light revealing a terrible scene.

For there was no ground beneath her. Just one giant pile of mutilated corpses of dragon and mortal alike. Their jaws all slackened and cut, eyes dull and devoid of any life, dried blood coating grievous wounds. Spears lined them like markers for their undug graves. Banners and flags mockingly flapping in a malevolent wind. She practically screamed, trying to scamper away but found there was no where to run. For all she could see for endless miles was the same scene. Mountains and valleys of death and decay. Rivers of coagulated blood, and forests of flapping banners. Then as if to make matters worse they all began to cry and beg. Asking why it had to happen, why they were dead, and why she'd allowed this to happen. She ran until a draconic claw all rotted away snatched up her hinds, toppling Ossai to her belly.

“Is this the future you wanted? The death of dragon kind?"

“Not this! It wasn't supposed to happen!" She cried, voice cracking as she pulled herself free. From the dead rose the stone face image of her father, his angelic like wings spreading wide. Golden scales burned with a fiery light as, eyes like molten lava settled upon her. They were not angry or vengeful, but disappointed as they took her in. He didn't say a word as the air between them silenced. The countryside of corpses melted away into a greyish blob, leaving only his golden form statuesque before her. His feathery white wings were pinned behind him as he sat down, continuing his stare. Without thinking her neck hung, and instead of the rebellious daughter she was but a wyrmling.

“I didn't want this to happen." Her snout shook as the weight of her missing kin weighed heavily on her heart. The faces of the dead dragons flashing before her mind. With tears down her cheeks like rivers she collapsed to the darkened void. She covered her snout with her wings, doubting for the first time in many years the choice she made. “I'm sorry."

* * * * * * * * * *

Ossai squirmed as the dullness of sleep lost its grip on her. The terrible visions and sounds swirling away into the pleasing warble of the morning birds, sunlight streamed through her wooden shades, gently caressing her face with warmth.

I was only dreaming? Her hand shot to her chest, had she somehow returned to her body? Hope died when she felt her breasts and soft skin. She flopped over onto the mattress, arm hanging from the side.

At least this is better than that nightmare.

She flipped again, staring at the simple ceiling, watching the shapes that formed their from the morning light. She'd rather be stuck in a mortal body than be banished to that realm of nonbeing for the rest of eternity. She shivered as her vision replayed itself in her mind. Her father's eyes prominently coming to the forefront.

Much better.

How long had she slept? She sat up with her legs dangling from the bed, a yawn stretching apart her jaws. Eyelids fluttered like a moth's wings as she swept away her grogginess with her rubbing fingers. Then came the dull ache, like her head was collapsing in on itself.

“Ugh." She groaned, rubbing at her temples as the final stab of drink got to her. This would have never happened if she was in her true form. It would taken much more to have any effect on her. Something she'd done in the past, just not on every occasion. “Curse that drink and curse the woman for letting me drink it." She wobbled to her feet, fighting the spinning of the room around her. That was till another yawn was summoned forth, and the rotating room had ceased it's wild spinning.

“Miss you up?" Came Mira's voice from the other side of the door, paired with a series of knocks. Due to the hangover or the girl having clubs for hands Ossai folded over and clutched at her throbbing head.

“Yes! No thanks to you." She hissed, “Why are earth are you here?"

“You wanted a bath drawn for you in the morning! Remember? Augustus tried to get whatever you wanted. You had the coin. He suggested a bath and you said yes!"

Right. The bath. She steadied her nerves, taking a long drag of the air. _ She went about stretching her limbs,_ still sore from the other day. She could feel their sluggishness as she wiggled her fingers, frowning as they weren't her claws. A bath could help with this ache and grime. “Fine. I will accept your bath human. Just give me a moment, I'm getting…"

“What? Dressed? Dressed into what?" She laughed, “Unless you were hiding anything else under your robes I doubt you have anything miss."

Ossai flung open the door with a snarl. Plan to tongue lash this girl for her jovial way of talking to her. Like she was mocking her. Her, the daughter of the dragon emperor. But she was met with such a disarming smile from the girl she lost all her bluster faster than she could blink.

“Here miss." Mira shoved a dark brown towel into her hands with a nod. “You can follow me now. Hope the drink went and pissed off. You downed it like a fish needs water!" She was wearing a simple linen vest like a frill around the collar and buttons down to her waist. Comfortable trousers were worn with a single leather belt to keep them up. “Well come on then. The waters getting cold. Best baths are warm." Mira waved her along with a smile, leading the speechless Ossai along like a puppy by a leash. “Yup. Waters warmer than a gryphon's feathers if you get my meaning. And don't mind the phrase."

“I wont." She waved it off, the girl's giggling and blushing cheeks. She was brought to a room larger than even her room had been. In its center was a round wooden tub, filled with steaming water and topped with a healthy amount of soapy suds. Around was a cabinet for towels and brushes for washing. Her first breath was filled with the heavy aroma of flowers, disarming any lingering resentment that might have built for the girl's common attitude towards her. “It looks…adequate." She tried to hide her gratitude for it with a stern look. One she hoped was able to be conveyed with the elven brow. She undressed without a care before the girl, ignoring the sudden flushing of her cheeks. Nakedness was something alien to her. Dragon's didn't wear clothes, and the shyness that mortals attributed to having without them was rather silly. To be ashamed of one's body? She laughed at the idea, regarding the girl's sudden flushness as an amusement.

“Have you not seen the female form?" She slipped into the warm waters, pleasure weaving its way into her bones. Heat and warmth spreading around her insides to caress her soul in blissful waves. She sighed, sinking back until but her head was cresting above the sinfully pleasurable waters.

“Of course I have!" Mira countered, waving her hands like it wasn't a big deal. But Ossai chuckled into the soap suds as the girl's cheeks had only gotten redder in the span of a few seconds. Dragons considered any such approval good. Pleasure was pleasure after all, who would deprive oneself based on gender? She chuckled that even in this form she could turn a head or two. “It's just your tattoos. I've seen them before!"

Ossai turned a single eye to her as the girl handed her a yellow scrubbing brush. “Excuse me? What about them?" She made sure her voice was cool and calm, like this was no big deal at all. Still the girl hadn't moved, staring almost in awe from her. Well that might be a bit unsettling. Guess the runes would have to stay hidden after all, especially if this was how mortals were going to act. She scrubbed away at her skin as the girl back tracked and better explained they belonged to things called the bonded. That she hadn't heard any of them speak in all her years. Though by how old the girl was, Ossai didn't think that was too many.

“Maybe they hadn't the opportunity to speak. Or simple didn't have anything to say." This seemed to brighten the girl's attitude, or at least have her depart her inquires on the magical runes etched into her flesh.

“Well I hadn't thought of that. Don't get many round these parts. Not to mention elves." She laughed and shrugged, “It was like my uncle Jeff used to say. Don't be judging people till you talk to em. Otherwise you're going to make an ass our of yourself…" The girl's eyes widened. “Oh!" The girl tapped her boot, eyes dashing to the door and back before asking Ossai what she wanted for breakfast. “Like…what do they eat up north? Augustus was arguing that you people eat nothing but plants and leaves. I said that was a whole barrel of hogwash. You had to eat something."

“Normal things I would imagine." She countered, letting the response at least put ease back into the girl's posture. Though she did internally smile at the mental image of a dragon sitting on its haunches with its maw filled to the brim with twigs and leaves. She listed off her favorite meals one after the other, deer, caribou, mouse, elk, fish, and the occasional boar or three. She'd always had them kept around for some bacon.

“Hah!" Mira laughed heartily, snapping her fingers. “Knew it. Well that's going to be good for ole Augustus."

“Why's that?"

“Cause breakfast. Don't tell me up north you don't have that." The girl's smile broke through Ossai's soft look. One that thought of years passed and people she'd never see. Homes she'd never visit and all the dragons she'd let down.

“Of course we do." She wrinkled her nose. “Just was thinking." She wasn't going to have a repeat of the night before.

“Trouble up there miss? From up north? I can relate to that." She thumbed her chest, brow raising. “It's not bad trouble is it?"

“Not that kind." Her gaze fell to the suds floating softly on the surface of the water like little boats. When they rippled, they looked like little drakes paddling along in a lake. The water somehow felt colder the longer she stared. “Just the past is all."

“Well. Don't you worry." The girl's upbeat tone lingered on the air. “Life's always an adventure right? That's why folks do it. See new places, meet new folk. Heck I've heard tales of people that just want to pack up and see the world!"

“And yet you stay here at a tavern."

“Well sha. That's only because I got family here. Friends! Not to mention that I'm not that great with a sword, or a spear, or any weapon in general. I'd make a poor adventurer." Mira's hands went to her hips as she recalled a time with Augustus and where they were practicing with swords. Her happy brow went and wrinkled as she recalled them stumbling over each other and how she'd nearly sliced the man's eye. Course that could have been the halfling herb…Or the drinks we had…But regardless! The girl's next few breaths had tamed her crimson cheeks, “Waiting on the right time I suppose. Just like you! Just decided to go out and explore. Never known a bonded to do that either. Guess there's a first for everything."

“Could say that." Ossai rose her arm, admiring the things that had her so bound for the first time since her freedom. They curled around like onyx snakes, touching every inch of her. Wickedly ensnaring every limb and curve. How disappointed her father would be. His greatest daughter confined by a mere mortal trick. He'd have laughed at her predicament with a throaty purr, his whiskers bouncing on the air. Right before he snapped at her for being so foolish. She shook her head to get the image of his golden scales from her mind. He was long gone, no sense in thinking of him. “How do I remove such things?"

“Thinking of getting some new ones?" Mira sighed, leaning up against the wall and staring at the ceiling dreamily. “If I were to get a one it would be a sick gryphon with burning wings, all with the fiery eyes."

“Phoenix. You're thinking of a phoenix."

“Then a phoenix then. Right on my arm. That way everyone can see it." She flexed, placing a finger proudly on her arm. “You think it would look rightfully awesome?"

Her blank expression cracked the girl's smile like a ceramic pot.

Mira seemed to wilt. “You're right. It was a dumb idea."

“No, no, no." She rolled her eyes. “That would be unique. I'd never think a human would have such a tattoo. But that's not really why I was asking." She explained in detail how the runes were halting her magic. That without their departure she'd be defenseless in this world.

“Okay we can go lookin around. Must be a folk somewhere in this place that can help you." Mira handed her the towel when Ossai stepped out into the chilly air. She bundled up swiftly, practically shivering like a newborn. “I need to take you shopping through the market though."

“I need to get these runes removed. Not shopping." She hissed, glaring at the woman.

“That may be true, but you need to have people not expect you to be a crazy woman wanting to kill them."

“Was that really how I looked?"

The girl just laughed. “You had blood on you!"

“Right." She dried herself with the provided towel. She'd forgotten how sensitive mortal flesh could be. Even the air nipped at her like a wolf. No wonder they wore clothes. She was met with a pair of brown trousers being thrust into her arms, followed by a simple green vest with long sleeves and a rope belt to tie around her waist. She gave the girl a queer look, but she explained it was just for now.

“Don't need you running around in rags." She laughed, striding out with a wave and practically ordering her to not skip breakfast. She would have snapped at the woman for daring telling her what to do, but her joyous voice stopped that in it's tracks. Not to mention the growl of her stomach. It's whine overruling any irritation growing beneath her skin. She quickly slipped on the provided clothes, taking note they were almost the right fit, but with the rope they at least didn't slide off. As she was about to leave the room she glanced back to her clothes, for the first time seeing all the stains and splatters of blood that had sunk into the fibers. Even now she was surprised they hadn't just thrown her out or turned away. Their hospitality was surprising. Especially to one not their race.

She pondered what happened to her kin that the skies were so empty. Had they not gotten this treatment after her departure? With a furrowed brow and heavy heart, she left the room, finding her way back down the stairs and into the main floor proper. She was met with the alluring fragrence of cooking pork that lay thick on the air as enchanting as any siren's song.

“Now sit right there little lady." Augustus was behind the counter, hard at work with a happy twitch of his ears. He once more wore an apron still covered in stains and grease. It looked like the one from the previous night. Without a word Mira slipped over and practically shoved her into one of barren chairs of the well-kept tavern. All the tables and chairs had been pushed to the edges, neatly all together. “I know it aint the right time. But call it a hunch." The portly man crumbled a pepper over a sizzling dish. “But I thought to break out the good meat."

Of course they would. Her draconic charm must have been shining through. Though an inner voice whispered that It was most likely the coin. “So nice that you saw fit to provide." She ran a finger along the wooden table, caressing every dent and scratch that marred its surface. “Considering the quaint atmosphere and no change to spare. Was it the coin that has you dazzled and charmful like a little fish?"

“Could be I suppose!" He laughed, “But Mira here had me convinced." He smacked his gut, “And the gut never lies. It whispered to me. Augustus. That lady is something else. You treat her right and you'll have good luck. So that's what I'm doing!"

“It said all that?" Mira returned to shove a tankard of water into Ossai's palm. “Perhaps it's the clerics that you should see. Hearing voices is a sign of dementia or a dark spirit."

“Not that girl." The cat man happily worked, “Spirits want nothin to do with me. Least of all the lass that could smack them away with a towel!"

As the pair continued their little flirtatious banter, Ossai sat and sipped her drink. Wondering and plotting where she was going to get her hint. When she would finally be out of this useless form and into one much better. No sooner was she dreaming of the sky when she found a plate of steaming pork plopped in front of her. It was paired with a chunk of tart cheese and a biscuit all warm and flaky. The meal was rather plain, not too much to talk about. Though it did have a kick or two on the first bite thanks to the pepper. As this went on the pair discussed what shops to drag her too. Who they would meet and talk to. Cobblers, tailors, blacksmiths, even a general store for more adventurous gear. Several times they argued over the pronunciation over a certain shop, earning Mira a hardened look from Augustus.

“It's my people's word you used. I clearly know the pronunciation!"

Course, the longer she heard them speak the more she reckoned that there was nothing in this town that could rid her of these runes. Save for possibly the magisters they spoke of, Mira not revealing her secret but mentioning they needed to avoid them. When Augustus asked she just snapped at him, insisting they had their reasons. This seemed well enough for the man, who just sighed and accepted it with splayed ears.

“Just be careful then if you're avoiding them." Augustus frowned and gave them both a concerned look. “They're just bullies out there. Or hired goons from a crime lord. They take what they want as tribute, saying it helps their coffers aid the protection of numerous villages in this kingdom. But I've seen the people they employ. Thugs and mercenaries with no direction in life. Folks that pick up a sword and feel like hurting others." He spat into a pot. “Terrible people that have no use round here."

Once more she admired the mimicry of dragons onto these people. Or at least her fathers' people. They were just missing one element of him. The corruption of thought by being in his presence. Even the most stalwart of enemies would be bowing and kissing his claws given enough time. All to feed his ever-growing ego. “Well…We need to find a wizard. Or someone with knowledge of the arcane arts. I need a particular rune removed."

“Then you're better off finding an adventurer. Folks round here don't know anyone of the wizardy type cept the magisters. Don't let other magicians on their turf. Bad for business I think."

“Fine." She pushed away her finished meal. She had a plan at least. Tailor, boots, magical person for the spells. She asked if they knew any adventurers that might know about wizarding types. Both shook their head and insisted the ones they did were far from here. Not foolish enough to return to this place.

“Magisters?" She grit her teeth, already despising the few avenues they were giving her. Mira and Augustus just sighed, confirming the reality. So, with a much too infectious happy grin Mira had practically dragged Ossai out into the street. Even despite her insistent protests, this girl was stronger than she looked!

The dirt streets were dotted with bright faced people, engaging one another in rapid conversation. It almost made her head spin. Clothes of various earth tones covered their bodies, dresses and shirts more like pieces of woolen clay. Horses leashed to carts, dragged piles of produce to be sold. A blacksmith's shop sounded out with clangs, a hefty aura of metal drifting out to the street. A merchant all dressed in bright yellows had offered her a sunflower, flicking the golden like pedals with an honest smile. Ossai warily observed all this vile cheer, wondering when this shadow of the magister's would rear its rotten form.

Tailor was the first thing to cross off the list, Mira dragging her to a well-kept shop with a circular sign. Upon it's smooth surface was painted a horse of brown and white in a cantering pose. It was run by a wizened old lady with thin bone like arms and a face more wrinkled than a prune. When the coin had flashed her hardened demeanor softened and was soon yanking her around the clothing clad shop. Bright colors were fetched from the back, vibrant reds and extravagant blues that would catch anyone's eye. They looked far too elegant for a dirt hole like this. She mentioned this to the woman, and got a scowl in return.

“Something practical." She shooed the wrinkle faced woman away. Now was not the time for standing out. Draconic pride be damned. “I need something that I won't be hindered and slowed."

“Where is the fun in that?" Mira had sighed, pulling out one of the dresses made of flowing silk. One that had fluffy frills around the collar and cuffs. “I'd love to be in one of these things." The woman returned, smacking away the far simpler girl's hands away like an insect.

“How bout this?" The old lady held up a brown shirt with long sleeves with a green leaf pattern stitched around the collar. It looked simple enough, with only stitching and far less more flashy things than the other clothing she'd been shown. The sleeves were made out of the same material but ended in clay colored swirls. It had pockets and buttons, places to store other various things. It would have to do. She snatched up a pair of trousers a leather belt, and a green scarf to complete her adventuring appearance. She'd lingered on the green material, brushing softly with a sigh. If only these were her scales instead of a garment meant for humans. She caught her image in a hanging mirror, not truly registering it as her. It was only a vessel, a temporary home. One overgrown with weeds and insects to be sure. Within her brown eyes she longed to see a hint of lavender, some clue she still remained.

She handed away her coin and got much change in return. The lady sneered and almost threw them out of the store. Probably disappointed she couldn't get more coin out of them. The door slammed behind them as Mira just let out a cackle.

“The look on her face when you wanted something plain. I wish I could capture that all year round."

“That so?"

“Aye. That bitch always is demeaning my look. Judging others. You'll probably be the first one with that amount of coin that turned down her wears. Lucky you she didn't just toss you out right then and there."

“I'd have liked to see her try." The mental image of an old lady struggling to shove out her draconic form was rather amusing. Less so when she took her frail one into account. Her brow ruffled and she quickened her pace to their next stop. The cobbler.

This place was adorned in shoes of all kinds. From big hulking boots with belts to open toed sandals for a more scholarly look. It smelled of dried leather, and was thicker than the fogs around the mountain tops in her old home. She almost swore that if she lit a flame the entire shack would have caught ablaze. Quick as she could muster, she adored her feet in socks, thrusting a pair of brown boots upon her limbs. With a quick walk around the beaten up floorboards she was certain these would have to stay. Next was the general store, one that was wedged between a shop selling various potions, and an abbey meant for the star goddess Sartren.

With her coin she rummaged about for some adventuring gear. Like a thicker bag, a bed roll, and a bundle of rope that Mira plopped into her hands. There was an assurance that it was always needed, or at least that's what other adventurers had sworn by. Then it was back into the far busier streets, the sun now directly overhead. The smell of cooking meals hounded at her senses. Prompting her stomach to whine like an unruly beast. She set about getting her questions about the magicians close by completed. Then she could free herself from this hunger.

With every question presented to the commoners she got more blank stares. Slack jaws as the dullards tried to wrack their brains for the answer she sought. On more than one occasion she bit her lips, trying to not scowl at these wretches. Mira wasn't helping either, simply drawing more attention to the hanging beef kabobs that glistened in the sunlight.

“You want one?" The girl finally cracked after passing the place for a third time, still not getting the answer. Ossai relented and waved the woman along, leaning up against one of the wooden structures with her arms crossed.

“Your loss!"

She thought over one rumor she'd collected. Of an old wizard to the east named Warrick. He lived according to the tale in a small hut, making his living by ransacking monster dens with parties of dwarves. Though their rough descriptions and forgetfulness didn't lend too much credit to this story. In the end she was still out of luck. Just like she suspected out of a small town such as this. When Mira returned, they dragged themselves back to the inn.

They were greeted by the sounds of joyous people. The dull rumble of chatting people flowed out of the open door like a wave. She was reminded of the sounds her people had made during such feasts. The snarls, warbles, and sometimes trills over the delightful food they'd feasted upon. Some had been simple and only wished for meat to grace their pallets, but she and a great deal of dragons liked variety. Cooked, boiled, baked, roasted. She made sure to at least have something different each day. From there they would have discussed rumors, and just whose territory was whose. Mating proposals among friends and who among them was working towards bigger hoards, or breakthroughs in magical thought.

She'd in this time catch the fancy of some courageous male or female. Knowing just who her father was. Cloak and dagger, spells and spies. She'd enjoyed keeping her power secured more than any dragon. Too may times she'd have to spurn one consort or another dragon's clan. All to keep herself above the rest. Not to murky the blood line her father had insisted.

Freezing in the entryway she took in the thick stench of ale and pipe's smoke. Sweat stung at her eyes before she wiped it away and composed herself. Like she owned the place. She strolled in with her head held high, finding humans of all sorts hovering over plates of half-eaten food. Downing drinks frothing from their mugs. Dozens of conversations overlapped with one another to bring life to a cacophony of rowdy noise. Some where eyeing others, some hugging their tankards. Even a few that reclined in the corners, taking long drags of thin pipes and looking like some dragon of old. But what stood out to her most was the gryphon.

Among the crowded place was the white feathered creature. He sat on his haunches with his furred head held low so he wouldn't bump his ears against the ceiling. He was holding an oversized mug in his blackened claws. Though it looked more like someone had welded handles to a pot. Up and down went his black and white tail feathers as he chuckled away into his drink. His charcoal like beak lit up into a smirk as several of the nearby patrons only offered him cross looks. For they were forced to press away from him, just to make room for the larger creature. Vital areas like his chest and sides were adorned in an off-white gambeson made specifically for his kind. It was decorated in stitching of gryphons in flight, and had clear signs of a sword's kiss.

Mira was quick to wish her well, gliding through the crowded inn like an eel. She passed another person handing out drinks, a human man with a crooked nose. She slid around Augustus as he emerged with plates of steaming food, planting a kiss right on his spotted cheek. The portly man dropped his plates, only for she grab it in her lightning like hands.

Then the gryphon's lion like tail swung like a fluffy mace, smacking some patron in the back. The crimson cheeked man rose with several of his friends, cursing the gryphon's rowdy tail for daring to intrude on their conversation. Where Ossai thought rudeness and aggression would show instead the gryphon met them with kindness. He shrugged off their round of coming insults like they were nothing. His voice was like a soothing song, or a gentile wind that could douse out any fire.

“Didn't seem to mind when I was buying your drinks. Nor when you were beating me at cards!"

The man's anger sputtered away as his fingers fell limply like a man exposed to ice water. He burst out laughing, blaming his distain on his drink.

Ossai continued past as the pair's laughter rose ever higher, almost to a joyous thunder. Before she'd gotten fully past the feathery patron, his tail swished and thumped in the middle of her path. She snapped to him, finding his bright sunflower eyes locked squarely onto hers.

“Look who wandered on in. Just the lady I've been searchin for."

* * * * * * * * * *

“Excuse me?" She clenched her teeth as the yellow eyed gryphon searched her up and down. His blackened marks around his eyes made him look like he had a permanent smudge right around them. “Who are you exactly?"

The gryphon's ears twitched up, a series of clicks flowing from his throat like wine. He offered her a seat, snatching it from a nearby patron who'd gone to leave. The wooden legs nearly struck several people in the head, knocking over several glasses. They shouted curses, insults about his eyes, but the gryphon never paid them any heed. He simply patted the seat with a claw and made the request again.

“I'd appreciate it if you joined me. Don't mind the company." He gestured to the humans with a wave of his claw. “Drunk…but rather harmless."

“Hey!" One man sputtered from his drink, brow all furrowed and as fuzzy as a caterpillar. “I fought a troll once! Gave me a horrid look!"

“Well…except that man I suppose. “ Sunflower eyes bounced up and down as the man egged the others on to hype up his tale of bravery and courage. “But he's an oddity."

“And why would I sit with you?" Her arms crossed, taking him in. “Unless you know what I require. I see no need of fools like yourself."

“That isn't a way to make friends." He chuckled over her words. “How about a free meal? No one hates one of those!"

“Unless its laden with poison and rot."

“Rain on a good day that is. But I was thinking more of the tasty and warm variety." He winked. “Got enough coin for the good stuff as well."

Was he trying to woo her? Like some other flirtatious girl? She played along, acting disinterested in him. “Does that work with all females?" She returned with a withering glance, spying he bore no weapons. Course he had sharpened talons and powerful muscles. She doubted he ever needed steel.

“Some." He sipped at his tankard. “More than you'd think actually. What's wrong with a friendly time and some company? Most folks would die for that! Though wasn't trying to flirt with you." He snapped his beak as several of the humans around him whistled and gave catcalls. “I WASN'T" They all groaned and whined, returning to their drinks. “But I get that enough from folks curious of my kind. Don't know if you can tell, but I'm not exactly the human type."

“Neither am I." She flicked her ears.

“Then you at least understand a tad." He slid his head a tad closer. “We get all the lingering looks."

She sat down, somewhat won over by his flowering speech and politeness. He chirped a victorious cry that she silenced with but a word. “I chose to be here. There are no other tables."

“Course, course." He thumped his tail. “Doesn't neglect from the fact I get one of the most unique ladies in this place." He winked. “And that was a flirt."

He laughed; she rolled her eyes. He bumped his head when he tossed it back. The ceiling shivered with a thunk, lanterns shook and patrons laughed. The poor gryphon's ears did splay as he rubbed the tender area. “Should have built it bigger you ask me."

“Then why eat inside? Seems ill fitting." She hid her brief smile with a hand.

“Then I'd miss all the people! The sounds, the smells!" He took a deep breath with closed eyes. “You know what that smells like?"

“Booze and unshowered people?"

“Life!" He chirped, calling a server over to order some water. When he turned back his eyes found her arms, lingering like a hawk. She thought he might be undressing her with his eyes, some crude thing that humanoids often did. But then his ear twitched, a seriousness filled his voice. “Though I suspect you're hiding something far more important under your clothes."

“Yea her boobs!" A patron cackled like a baboon, to which the gryphon shoved him aside with an unfurled wing.

“Not those you animal! Show the fine lady some respect!" The gryphon clacked his beak, returning his attention to her with a brief sigh. “Perhaps we'd rather chat without all the ears leanin in?"

“How'd you know about that?" She hissed, sliding closer to him.

“You weren't exactly subtle in your questions." He whispered back, right next to hear ear. “I saw you talking to the folks round town. Inquiring mighty a lot of certain topics. Doesn't take that much to put the wings together."

How didn't she notice him? A gryphon would be rather hard to spot. Especially with how white his feathers were! “I think you reveal your lie. I'd have seen you." She gestured to his feathered neck up and down. “As you said. You stand out."

“Though that might be true." He said calmly, rolling his claw with a smile. “I can be rather good at blending in when I mean to. Disappear faster than a dwarf's manners after a pint of bloodbeer." His features wrinkled as he pulled back his head, claws caressing his beak. “Though that's not much of a feat actually. Terrible stuff that. Poof, one drink and your inhibitions gone."

She was about to question him further when Mira swung around, and the gryphon declared he'd pay for anything she wanted.

“And what makes you so interested in the questions I'm asking." She tore her gaze from his eagle like face to the rest of his armored form. “Are you one of those magisters?"

He laughed at that. “Heck no I aint. Wouldn't be caught dead in orange. Not to mention it aint that fashionable." When she didn't return his laughter, he killed his own with a cough. “What I means to say is that I find oddities mighty interesting. And you girl." He took a sip of his drink, a pleased coo rumbling from his feathered throat. “Are quite the diamond in the mud."

More flattery? She rolled her head away from his enticing eyes, his cutely flicking ears. She wouldn't be won over by simple niceties. Far greater beings than he had tried. Dragons with lands upon lands to their name, power to their claws. What was he? A gryphon with a twitching ear.

“Probably think fairly high of yourself. Pains you to talk with the more…common folk." He sighed, “See it plain as day. But no. I was talking bout the runes you're hiding so well. Though not to be insulting you, you're awfully beautiful. Like one of them pretty flowers they find on the west of this kingdom. They sparkle like gems in the morning dew, or something fanciful like that. You know where I'm coming from."

Her arms crossed as he stumbled over a few more metaphors for her apparent beauty as to not insult her. It was rather flattering, and her draconic pride loved everyone, but he was only making himself a continued fool. “Get to the point gryphon. You singled me out and have my attention. Far less can be said for everyone else in this town."

“Fair enough." He snorted, glancing at the door. He shifted on his hinds, puffing out his chest “Folks call me Sepharim. Traveling mercenary and one of the fastest wings around. Getter of goods and provider of things." The bird carried himself with confidence, laying thick the air with his dozens of made up titles she couldn't help but chuckle at his self-worth. It was very dragon like in a way. That prideful boasting, often seen in the younger of her kind.

“Oh. I amuse you then?" He tilted his head with an irritated chirp, his eyebrow raising.

“Yes and no."

“Which is it?"

“that's a lot of titles. I was half expecting you to name yourself a king of something."

“King?" He scoffed. “But a duke? I could see myself a duke. Maybe a lord. Something with all the fancy bits. That's for sure. They're the ones with all the fun." He tapped the table with his talon, raising his brow several times. “ Anyway, didn't catch your name."

“Because I didn't give it." She quickly retorted. “Its something precious."

“A name?" His head tilted.

“Emerald Lady." She corrected, straightening her back. There was some truth to that, the title she instructed the mortals to call her before.

“Emerald huh?" He inspected her up and down. “Not a speck of that color on you at all. Unless you're referring to your experience. Then yes. Much green to be had."

“Not that kind of green." She ground her teeth, running her fingers to the edge of the table. “I'm just at an inconvenience. Things are not going quite the way I'd imagined them."

“Life's like that though. Full all twists and turns. Nasty and the welcoming sort." When Mira returned with an amber drink for the gryphon he thanked her, insisting they'd like to finish the meal outside. Preferably out back away from listening ears.

Now he was controlling the conversation and the location? She wasn't going to have that. “Getting ahead of yourself gryphon." Her eyes narrowed as his ears flicked casually at her. “I haven't agreed to anything yet."

“True." He raised his tankard, splashing the sparkling liquid into his beak. With a gulp he gasped in satisfaction, fixing her with a confident grin. “But you will. Way I figure it you don't have many options. You intrigue me and your trying to figure if I can get what you need. Fact being though is I can help you." He wiggled his folded wing. “ Got the talons, the wings." He winked, giving her a beak parted smile. “And the eyes. That most these humans can't match."

He was right and he knew it, meeting her gaze with one of utter confidence. It was not often a mortal being had the gall to have the one up on her. Not to mention question her own decisions. “You're correct." Her jaw tightened as the gryphon trilled his success. “You've at least warranted an extended conversation on the topic." She leaned back, eyes traveling over the numerous scars she could make in his fur. Even if he was rather brash, he could be useful. And if they needed to travel anywhere, having a set of wings was far better than walking or procuring one of those horse creatures. She asked about his scars to which he was able to name at least a dozen scraps he'd gotten himself into. When she pointed out the one on his beak, he suddenly got quiet, not wanting to talk about it.

“Just follow close." He snapped; ears splayed as he barged out the doors. “I know where you can find a wizard."

* * * * * * * * * *

She followed the gryphon out the doors at least her curiosity having been stroked. Sure, he seemed fairly arrogant and prideful but he was just the fool she'd been looking for. Especially if he could find her a mage. One that wouldn't seek to return her body back into servitude. Though she hated the idea of taking adventure ideas from a mortal she relented. Sometimes you needed to suffer to get what you want. Right now that took the form of a white feathered gryphon, and his swaying tail back and forth. The matter though remained. Could she trust him? At least long enough to find this wizard. She didn't become the emperors favorite by being vulnerable.

You weren't stuck in a useless form either.

“Where can we find this mage?" She spoke loudly as they curled around the building's exterior, passing below a bright flower clad archway large enough that the gryphon didn't need to duck. He did pluck her a purple pedaled flower and offer it to her. She denied it with hardened eyes.

“Far from here." He coughed, setting aside the pedal. “Up to the north east. Over the hills and forests, far past the mountains." He described them in such a beautiful way, practically smiling as they drifted away from the tavern's sounds. He whistled a jovial note, loud enough to startle a series of red feathered birds from the branch of a nearby pine. Thick hedges spread about the trimmed grass, encircling a section of clear water seemingly placed into the dirt. Stones surrounded it, kissing the edge as orange fish swam around inside. They crested towards the surface, mouths gaping for food not coming. A thin line hung from the tavern's rear to a nearby tree, clothes attached by pins on either side.

He trotted to the water's edge, plopping his haunches down beside a weathered stump. He turned back to her with a happy look in his eyes, ears practically bouncing. He rolled his claw for her to join him, possibly take a seat on the makeshift wooden seat.

“So, you have my attention." She crossed her arms, taking him up on his offer. “ Sepharim was it?"

“That it was. Much of a name as yours is." He raised a brow.

She was in no mood for games. He'd already crossed her twice. “The wizard gryphon. Now. Don't waste my time with idle talk."

“All business huh?" He rolled his eyes with a chirp. “Perhaps you'd have thought about that before strolling around getting all dressed up. You must have caught plenty of eyes for the magisters to exploit."

“I was getting better prepared."

“And I spied at least half a dozen of their thugs watching you the entire time." He flicked his beak towards the way they came, eyes warry. “Guess you didn't see them?"

She hadn't. Course she wasn't going to admit that to him. “I don't see them as much of a concern." She wiped her hands upon one another.

“Of course not." He chirped. “Especially if you're going to be hiring me. “They can't exactly fly…" He shifted on his haunches. “Course, not all of them anyway."

“Name of the wizard."

“Warrick. Might have heard of him from town. Mighty quirky one that. But he doesn't ask too many questions." He gestured back with his neck. “Plus, he doesn't like the orange wearing guys. He'd be more than willing to screw them over."

Well that sounded more concrete and tangible to latch onto. But could she count on him to be telling the truth? So, she asked it of him with narrowed eyes.

“Well. We're both lying about our names. At least keeping it secret from the other. That's fairly honest. And if I wanted to turn you over to the magisters I'd have already done so." He chuckled. “So, there's that."

“You think I'd just let you take me captive?" She pressed a hand to her captured dagger's hilt.

“Oh. No sir. Just sayin I could is all. I figure I get you to the wizard. You get me a reward. “

“What if I don't have a way to reward you?" She pressed the point home. “And you're risking your feathers against these magister thugs."

He chuckled in his throat, holding up two talons. “Two things. Magisters, never liked them. Don't mind screwing with them every chance I get. Two, bonded don't talk. So, there's something fishy about you. I figure there be a reward in it when the job is done. Old brother of mine said Portunga blessed my wings. I say we put them to use eh? So tell me. What sorta bonded are you?" He leaned closer, staring square into her eye. Like he was trying to cut past her and into her soul.

So, she told him enough of her plans involving the runes. Not that she was a dragoness hiding within. But he was rather keen on the adventure when she flashed him at least six of the platinum coins. “Just for a traveling job. You can half now. The other half when we get to this wizard and he can return me to normal."

“That's.." He closed his beak, getting quiet as he stared at the fish circling. His tail swished back and forth as he grumbled to himself. Maybe he thought she was more powerful and could provide a different sort of reward?

“I'll do it." He nodded, “Long as you don't mind touching a gryph."

“I won't be doing that." She hissed, snatching back her coin. “You can shove your lewd tongue right back into-“

“Not that!" His ears perked up in surprise, claws joining them. “Who do I look like? My brother?"

“Um…" She was caught stunned, crossing her arms. “Your brother do that sort of thing?"

“Well…He's a cleric of the fertility goddess." Sepharim rolled his eyes. “Mating and spreading his seed is like…their whole belief system. So you tell me."

“Indeed." She pulled back out the coins, folding them into her fingers. It sounded good enough, so she placed them into his talons. “Get me there. I might even give you the entire pouch if I feel you've earned it."

“Wonderful." He rose the pieces to his eyes, tasting each one with his beak. “Real thing too. Thought you might be yanking my…well." He chuckled, stashing them into his numerous pouches. “Might as well stay for lunch!" His beak shot up, releasing a quick trill as Mira sauntered out with a whole assortment of goodies on a wooden platter.

The steaming food glistened in the sunlight, practically mouthwatering as it's devilish scents wafted through the air. It was mostly fish, vegetables and a sauce of wine mixed with vinegar. She imagined a bit more coin must have exchanged hands before hand, and he'd predicted she'd come out here with him. His confidence and shrewdness intrigued her. Enough to watch him happily devour the food without abandon. She joined in with him, drowning the mouth-watering food with a provided drink. When Mira returned to check on them Sepharim thanked her, causing the poor girl to blush as the gryphon dipped his head.

“Good friend she is." He chuckled when Ossai gave him a questioning glance. “Playful though." Before she could snort and guess what he meant by that the gryphon went back to his meal like a beast. They ate in silence for the most part, too busy filling the air with the sounds of their feast. She chuckled at how his crown feathers extended with nearly every bite, followed by a muffled pleasure filled groan. Several times she had to wonder if this meal was giving him some sort of carnal pleasure as well. Course she wouldn't dare look. She wasn't that curious.

“Think this is good? You should have seen the meals of my home." She leaned onto her palm, dreaming of the banquets she had prepared in her honor. From dragon cooks and that of their mortal servants. She described a brief bit about the grandiose nature of it.

“Sounds like a terrible place then." He let out a hiss. “Like you're some sort of royalty. Bet you even ate with gilded forks and spoons. Laughed about all the troubles plaguing the common folk." His head tilted as he once more stared at her deeply. “Never heard a bonded being from that kind of life before. They kidnap you from some kingdom?"

“Perhaps." She straightened her back, “Things are never quite what they seem gryphon. First and final lesson my father got to bear witness to."

The gryphon's ears just twitched, “Sounds ominous."

Cold gripped at her heart with its icy claws as she thought to her dreams. “Quite."

“But speaking of things beneath the surface." His voice suddenly grew taught, ears flaring out. “Some things are just as shallow and what they appear to be. Case in point."

She turned around to catch four humans striding round the tavern like they owned the place, with spears in loose hands. They were garbed in various gambesons, with rusty mail shirts on top of them. Their faces were covered in thick beards and mustaches, and possibly filled with specks of a meal forgotten. Sprinkles of amusement shone in their eyes as the one leading them practically had a bounce in his step. They were a perfect image of coming tension save one skinnier man than the rest. The crossbow he held was shaking with every step he took. Upon their breasts was an orange symbol stitched into the cloth, that of the sign for the magisters.

The amber eyed leader strolled up, hands on his waist and flashed them a toothy smile. “Well by thunder." He whistled, glaring Sepharim up and down. “Never did think I'd see you round these parts. Figured you'd have been smarter and flown. Especially after that woman." He smacked his lips, grinning wickedly at Ossai. “Far prettier thing than that elf too. Shame."

“You know these people?" Her eyes narrowed, quickly scanning their holstered swords. The leader just continued to inspect her, like she was merely a piece of meat. Her hand briefly brushed against her handle of her weapon. No one got to look at her like that.

“Sadly, I do." The gryphon sighed, striding to place himself between her and their new guests. “And I was having such a nice day too." He gestured up with his wings. “Nice sun, pleasant breeze, some great atmosphere, fetching lady." He winked she rolled her eyes. “And then I get you boys comin over and sticking your crooked noses where they shouldn't."

“Aw bird. You say that like we ain't have a few good scrapes!" The leader crossed his arms, barking out a laugh. “Course you be all bout the business now huh. How bout I do this for ya." He wiped a greasy finger upon his gambeson as his compatriots chuckled behind him. “I offer you a deal for old times sakes." He held up his finger. “Limited time offer mind you so best pay attention."

Ossai wasn't trembling, but all her muscles were tenses. Fingers began curling around her dagger's hilt. Even the way Sepharim carried himself wasn't enough to settle her. She could try and bolt right now, but her legs wouldn't respond.

“Go on." Sepharim clacked his beak, stretching out his talons.

“You take them wings of yours and get. I tell the men upstairs we never did see you. Sound good?"

“Sure does." The gryphon nodded, gesturing to Ossai with a chirp. “Friend and I were just passing through. Stopped in this place for a bite to eat. Wings get so stiff from flying beautiful elves places." He chuckled. “Or you'd know that if you could find some nice ladies."

One of the men gritted his teeth, hand slinking to his sword. The other just looked shocked, while the crossbow weilder continued to shake like a frightened dog.

“Surely you'd let a gryphon and his most trusted friend……" He rolled his claw at her for a name.

“Arenneda." She quickly snapped, taking one solid step towards him. It would have appeared her decision was yet again made for her. Though survival was certainly quelling what anger she'd have at that fact.

“Yes Arenneda. Finish our meals and leave."

“Not the girl." The leader growled. He glared at Sepharim, spitting a thick wad of mucus to the dirt. “You're not pulling anything here today gryph. She's been asking bout magister runes all over town. Figure the boss would want to ask her a decent amount of questions. You know." He chuckled lewdly. “The intimate kind."

“That will not be happening." She spat back with fire, placing a hand onto Sepharim's flank.

“Honestly lady. Your compliance isn't a factor." The leader laughed with his friends. “Only thing that might change today is if we end up marring the gryphon more with our blades."

Sepharim fluffed his wings. “Do we really want to get into a scrap over a simple misunderstanding? Why not settle this over a few pints? I mean look at that guy over there!" He belted out a chirpy laugh, pointing to the crossbow man. “That one there can barely hold his weapon without springing a leak. I counter propose you an offer. How about I offer you strapping young lads a round of drinks and food. We can laugh about this unfortunate set of circumstance. You won't say nothin bout us, and you won't have to live with getting your asses beat in front of a lady!"

“Sounds like a great deal boss!" The crossbow man stuttered, “I could really use a plate of that gumbo they make." The leader tossed the man a savage look. “What?" The man shrugged. “It does!"

“Got a plan for getting out of here?" She whispered to the gryphon, still gripping her weapon tight. She wasn't going to be helpless. She may not have been as nimble, strong, or magical as her dragon form. But she at least wasn't going to get captured without a fight.

“Working on it. Rather not cave these guy's skulls in." Sepharim whispered, guiding Ossai back as the leader stepped forward and unsheathed his broadsword with a hiss. The others brandished their spears.

“Looks like you've picked up a bit of deafness friend. Let me repeat my offer."

“Don't worry. I heard you." Sepharim sighed, “And I really wanted that drink." The gryphon flung dirt into the leader's eyes, surging forth as the man shouted in surprise. Bulk toppled the man to the ground, the gryphon's hinds hardly touching the ground for a second. His wings flared out wide, releasing a keening cry. Talons snapped a jabbed spearhead from its haft, then planting its owner to the ground with his talons.

He leaped to his right, placing a spearman between him and the crossbowman. The nervous man fired, catching his companion square in the back. As the man yelped in surprise that was all the gryphon needed. Sepharim smacked aside his spear, grabbed the man with both talons, reared up and tossed him towards his ranged combatant. With a yelp both men collided, collapsing into a pile of tangled arms and legs.

Well that happened. Ossai stood in amazement as the gryphon kicked the groaning first spearmen, sending the man tumbling back to the ground. He evidently knew how to fight, or these men were simple outmatched.

“Coward!" The leader shouted, wiping the dirt from his eyes. When he tried to slash at her with his blade she leaned away. Before she could stab him in the throat, Sepharim was upon him. With a cry his talons ripped into the man's sword arm, disarming him before stumbling to the ground. “Blasted coward! You used dirt!"

“Funny thing that." The gryphon strode over, pinning the man to the ground with a talon. Yellow eyes burned as he brought his onyx scared beak down to practically kiss the man's nose. “Shoulda taken the deal friend. Now you're all a mess."

The man squirmed with defiance lurking in his eyes, hatred wrinkling his features.

“And take note you're not dead or robbed. You're going to take your friends here and get. Leave me and my lady friend alone."

He was going to let them go? Ossai rose her voice, “If you had any sense in you gryphon. You'd kill them. If they work for who you say, then its better to not have any loose ends."

“No." He snapped back. “Fights over. We won they lost, no blood needs to be shed."

“You mean, more." The first spearmen groaned, kneading at his chest.

She held Sepharim's gaze, daring him to do anything about it. She saw that fierceness in them, that raw power. He would stop her if she tried to make a move.

Fascinating.

Despite his brush with honor, within those yellow eyes was the eyes of a murderer. Or at least someone who'd done it enough times. She relaxed; arms still crossed to her chest. “Just don't be surprised then if this bites you in the rear end."

“That's my choice aint it?" He clacked his beak as the man squirmed again. “Isn't it?"

“Save your words gryphon." The man spat like a vile meal. “And you best fly far as you can away from here. Keep your head looking over your wings cause we're going to get ya. Lots of mercenaries might be wanting the reward they going to place on your head. Think they might do some nasty stuff with that magic to ya. Make ya wish that you'd been kilt."

The gryphon's body heaved a sigh, his tail flicking casually behind him. Ears twitched, talons swiped, and Sepharim tore out the man's throat in a spray of red. “Shame that." He hopped off, striding to the next man who lay squirming on the ground. He placed a blood dripping talon onto his chest. “So what you're going to do is-“

“I heard you!" The man cowered; palms raised. “No need repeaten!"

“Good." The gryphon cleaned his talons on the whimpering man's gambeson, flicking away what remained like it was a normal occurrence. Then it was back to staring at her, gesturing to the sky with his neck. “Emerald Lady. Care to come with? Think this place got a tad bit excitable."

She didn't move. With what he showed he could do what he wanted with her. Betray her at a moment's notice. Heck, he could return her to these magisters if he so chose. But she hardly had a choice. If these mercenaries were after her, how long until more skilled mortals came running? “Any proof you won't betray or rob me?"

“Just my word." Sepharim pressed a talon to his armored chest. “Depends on how much you value that. Didn't turn you in though. More than what these boys woulda done. So whats it going to be?"

She glanced back to the beaten and bruised men. It would be good to have him along. Companion to shorten the time, and to protect her. What was it going to cost her? Just a bit of coin she had no real value in? Her true form was worth any price to obtain. Then she could attend to more important matters. “You have a deal."

“Good." He chirped, flaring out his wings. “I've had enough of this place crawling with magister filth." He crouched and waggled his haunches. “Don't mind riding on a gryphon's back?"

“Not if it gets us where were going faster." She clambered up, settling her legs on either side. She rolled her eyes at the idea of riding when she could have flown herself. Never had this been a thing since she was but a wyrmling riding upon her mother's back.

With a resounding chirp Sepharim pounced, wingbeats casting away the earth and carrying them upwards into the heavens.

* * * * * * * * * *

For days they traveled northward, carried aloft over the rolling countryside by the steady beat of Sepharim's wings. Through his feathery limbs Ossai glimpsed the world denied her, the one she'd been dying to return to. Where thin wispy clouds dotted every azure bit, swirling around the expanse like thin serpents. She'd stare out into the vast cerulean sky, wishing the wind tenderly caressing her face was one brought through her own power. She'd bask in the golden radiance of the sun as it caressed every stalwart tree, weathered rock, and curling river that lay below the dangling paws of her gryphon.

Though this time wasn't all radiant sun and cheek warming joy, with it was brought the grim reality of the empty sky. What she'd caught glimpses of on the ground was laid bare. Not a single dragon seen for miles in their journey. It had been hard to imagine such a thing, when dragons were so plentiful in her time. Had they been hunted out of existence? Moved on to different lands? It was so alien to not have a single pair of leathery wings in the sky to greet her, or scaly snout swimming through the air. But for each second she stared into the vast emptiness her heart ached, throbbed, enough to make her squeeze at her chest. All because she'd sided with Bahamut.

Was that really the best option? She'd been so certain at the time. But look where that led them. Desolate skies and no dragons to fill them. Would the future have been certain back then? Her father had changed it by defeating Bahamut. Perhaps she could have prevented the burning lands and destruction she saw? She'd ponder in silence during such times, losing herself to the whining of the wind.

Luckily, they'd take breaks every few hours during the flights. That way Sepharim would not exhaust himself. She supposed dragons were superior in that regard, being able to travel for longer without rest. Gryphons only retained their higher speed potential. She recalled several of her kin keeping gryphons for racing pets, bragging about their beautiful feathers and speed. During such rests she'd eaten what trail rations and dried meat she'd packed, downing them with swigs from her waterskin she'd fill at every lake or river. For sleeping they'd kept to themselves, finding a few logs and resting around a crackling fire that radiated pleasing warmth, distracting the ness with its seductive flames and the ever-watchful eyes lurking in the bushes and countryside.

The spoke fairly little to one another at first, just mundane things about the weather or how they were doing. He was simply a means to an end. Like a horse but faster, a tool to get what she wanted. She doubted that she'd see him again when this was over. Though he seemed to be trying to prove her otherwise. During the nights he'd constantly fill the silence with warm hums as he clawed at some bark, or cheerfully preened his feathers without a care to the world.

Though what he did most of all was talk. Again, and again about the trees and how much life they had, something his brother would have loved and gone to copious lengths to describe. Or tales about how his other brother with bright yellow feathers raided human caravans, stealing assorted goods with his heightened reflexes and sharper talons.

“One of these days he's going to wind up dead." Sepharim said grimly, miming the action for a crossbow. “Twang. Someone's going to be lucky, and we're all going to tell him we told him so. But does he listen? Nooooo." He'd chuckle after such words, leaving a pause for her to no doubt fill it with her own stories. It was like he was trying to treat her like an equal. Not like the better she was.

She'd ignore him when he did this, simply staring at the dancing flames and remember better times with her kin. When the world wasn't wrapped in violence and destruction. Maybe an assassination or two, but that was to be expected. But better people. People that didn't wither and die. How could those that sided with mortals even consider them friends? They all died off by age when you thought about it. Not even worth getting to know in the long run. But still, no matter how much she didn't say he continued to talk. Each and every night before the stars, making sure she wasn't alone with her darker thoughts. That at least she had to thank him for.

When his stories were not about his brothers they were about his bountiful clan, how they called all the other human loving clans half-humans or how that he'd left for greener pastures.

“Where was the fun in despising them?" He'd chuckled, “When they like to live!" But then his ears would splay, mentioning that he couldn't go home after that. “Get all the questioning looks." Then his face would get all sour as he stared into the flames, one that she'd worn too often the many nights.

“Especially since I gave them the raised tail and defiant haunch wiggle. Very rude thing you can do. Should have heard my brother cleric on that one." Sepharim sighed, dragging a talon through their campfire that night. “Bet he still doesn't admit I was part of the flock." He gestured to a scar along his lower flank, right at the top of his leg. “Clawed me up something awful. Never counted him the fighter type. More the lover type, damn bastard has three dozen chicks at least."

“That's what happens." She said grimly as he continued to pour his heart out in front of her. Golden phantom eyes had flickered at the camp's edge, ever watchful and judging her. She only met them once, but the terrible shiver that struck her was enough to stop her from doing it again. He was more like her than she would have thought, but still she kept him at arm's length.

One night he'd surprised her. It had been a challenging day, having been beset by strong gusts and bone cutting wind brought on by storms that threatened to strike them from the sky. Even Thor himself seemed to be throwing lightning. Did he not want Ossai to return to her true form? She scowled at the notion. They'd retired for the eve at the ruin of some old fortress, settling down underneath an overhang as it was battered by torrents of rain. Cold and piercing precipitation that sent tremors of cold straight to the core of your being. They'd set up a makeshift awning with her tarps to catch any spare droplets that might worm their way through the cracks in the old stone. There they sat as the darkened land lit up with bright flashes of light, followed by the booming thunder in its wake.

Like swarms of fish the bolts traveled across the sky, rivers of bright white that consumed everything in their path. She'd rolled her eyes at another adventuring story that Sepharim told her about, one involving a dancing orc that she was certain he'd told her about before. But then he'd stopped, staring at her intently, like he was trying to etch her face into his brain.

“Why do you look so sad when you look to the sky? Or is it because we have no fire?" The gryphon's head tilted, his ears perking up in genuine interest. She didn't reply but he asked again in a softer voice.

She didn't know why her armor was slowly eroding. Perhaps it was the countless nights he'd talked to her, or the fact he was here right now. Or perhaps it was even the guilt eating away at her. Regardless it crumbled away with a sigh as she turned to him. With a shaky voice she started to tell him. At least enough to satisfy his question.

“I'm a dragon. One that is trapped within this mortal shell of a creature."

“And I'm actually a dwarf trapped in a gryphon body. You almost got me for a moment. “His demeanor suddenly broke with a hearty laugh. One that was only silenced with a crackle of lightning.

She scowled as he continued to shake and cackle like a mad man. When he wiped his eyes, she narrowed hers and repeated the declaration without flinching. “I was trying to open up to you."

Sensing her seriousness, Sepharim pulled back, claw to his chest as he plopped down beside her. “You're not pulling my wings?"

“No."

He gasped.

“I'd have thought with a brother of the divine arts that you'd know such things were possible. How'd this surprise you?"

“Brother just had his gift for healing folks and breedin chicks. He never mentioned any form shiftin. Besides. Not like I've seen a dragon before." His eye brow perked. “Still think your trying to pull something."

“Not in the slightest." His eyes flicked from her feet to her head, a curious rumble radiating through him.

“So…hows it like being a two legger? Must be awful for one with your prestige."

“Annoyingly so." She curled up her legs, winding her arms around them. She then explained the nature of her quest, the part of returning to her normal shape. Sepharim took it in without a word, only one question bubbling up when she'd finished.

“How'd you even get like that? Don't tell me you turned elf and forgot how to turn back!"

“Course not!" She snapped her fingers as he let out a weak chuckle. “That's why the runes!" She pinched her skin before his eyes. “They impede my magic."

“And how'd you get like that?" He squirmed away, like she was going to leap at him. “Still haven't said."

Isn't that the question of the hour.

She got quiet, staring at the water soaked ground just beyond their hiding spot. The orbs were supposed to be permanent. Something to finally do away with her father and his leaders. Yet here she was in the sort of flesh. New life brought on by some crazy accident or miscalculation.

Or was it?

“I don't know." She spoke quietly, shivering as she thought to her father's piercing gaze. “There was darkness all around me…Then I woke up in this body of an elf."

“So…You took over a girl's body?" The gryphon's ears pinned to his head; eyes narrowed faster than she could blink. “And you killed her?" He fluffed up his chest to appear bigger.

“If there was something to be yes. But she was wiped clean before I even came along. I got flashes of places I'd never seen."

“Ah." His feathers went down, but his muscles still were tenses. “Just no surprises then. The bonded are wiped clean. Practically zombies when they get out of the magister's clutches."

“How do they do it?" She turned to him, interest dripping from her words. “I was not aware mortals even had such magic."

He shrugged. “Don't know where they got it. Only know they do." He gulped, tearing his view off her. “Seen it done before."

“As in the ritual?"

“No." He sighed, “The aftereffects."

“Who."

It was his turn to not talk, simply sigh and glance off into the blinding light of another lightning bolt. “Another time perhaps. Let me keep things."

So, she did, letting only the sounds of the forest and the storm overhead fill the silence lingering between them. It was awhile before he even said anything, but he did so with a chirp.

“What kind of name is Emerald Lady anyway? Thought dragons would have better names than that."

“It's a title." She crossed her arms, tossing him a hardened look. “Only dragons get the name of dragons. Your kind gets titles."

“Your kind?" He chuckled weakly. “How mad should I be right now?"

“Mortals.

“We're not good enough to get your names?"

“You pass from this plane. It's far easier to give titles to you. Dragons only make friends with others of our kind."

“Sounds like you think lowly of us…Mortals." He fluffed his tail feathers, kneading at the dirt with his claws. “I'll try to not be too loathsome."

“We're immortal. You speak as though that's not enough." She chuckled, even as he shifted on his haunches.

“Don't see you folk running things . Nor your wings dominatin the sky. Seems mighty strange for better beings huh? If you don't mind me wonderin."

She knew it was to be true, but his words still stabbed deeper than any talon or spear. Her dreams from the days past bubbled up like a swamp sludge in the back of her mind. She shivered and glanced away from him sheepishly. “Well, they used to. Least when I had my wings."

“Used to? Far as I remember they haven't been spoken in hushed whispers for quite some time. If anything, I'd say your people are hiding." His beak lowered as her head. “How old are you exactly?"

“2000 seasons give or take." His grating laugh was like sandpaper to her soul.

“Why not just use years? It's much easier to understand."

“Old tradition…It sounded…"

“Like you're making yourself seem older than you are." Sepharim opened his pouches, pulling out some wrapped packets of grains. “500 huh. Mighty older than I."

“And you are how old?"

“Oh me? Lady doesn't give away her age. Would be rather unbecoming." He winked when she gave him a queer look. “And you said something about darkness? Where you sleepin or something?"

So, she told him about the orb, her dreamlike state and the darkness that had nearly swallowed her whole. When she'd finished that bit she was trembling, practically like a newly hatched wyrmling on it's first cold night. Not to mention her heart was practically racing.

“More tall tales huh?" He rolled over to his back, wiggling until he got comfortable. “I can do with more tomorrow."

She just scowled at him. “That's how you act when I opened up to you?"

“Yup." He closed his eyes. “Lot to take in, get to processin. Might want to glance away." His legs splayed on either side, giving her a good look of his more intimate areas. They were large white furred orbs about the size of her hands, placed to the bottom of a plump and furry sheath. Instantly she blushed and scowled harder at his face.

“See if I do it again."

The gryphon just started snoring.

When she drifted off, the dreams returned to bring back the nightmare from before. Just like come every rest. Every close of her eyes brought nothing but mounds of her kin and the ashes wafting on the air like a rolling fog. Had the golden father she sided against truly been right? Would his version of a bright future for dragon kind have been the right one? She'd awaken with shaking breath, sighing only when she realized she was still alive.

After her slight moment of vulnerability Sepharim seemed to make it his personal duty to capitalize and dig deeper. The gryphon's questions flowed nonstop as they sailed blissfully amidst the clouds. Over the mountains that sprung like giants he inquired, soared passed snake like rivers of sapphire waters and practically hugged the canopy of wide forests of vibrant viridian. Still he relentlessly battered her with questions. It passed the time and he seemed genuinely curious. Not at all like the rude ball showing feather brain he'd been a few nights prior. Though when she asked him his ears splayed as he didn't recall it. If he was pretending or not, she didn't know.

“Too exhausted." He'd offhandedly mention. “I don't go flashing my nethers to just anyone."

Eventually though the mercenary's tone took a more casual route. One heavily leaning into sarcasm, dripping with annoyance any time she uttered great or glorious. Not to mention he'd poke fun at her people's faults at every opportunity. One such morning she'd even been ambushed on her way to bathe in a teeth chattering river. Each one began to turn into a tiny thorn, pressed forcefully into her sides each time he opened that onyx beak. Not to mention the smirk he wore upon seeing her displeasure. How she wished to smack it right off him. Especially after the one night they'd caught fish, and she'd accidently burned them over the cracking flames.

“Lets see how you do with these infernal hands." She'd spat, nearly smacking his furry face. He'd suggested she was more used to servants preforming such tasks. Insisting that it was simply below her station. All this while chuckling away while her cheeks burned.

“So, did ya have scores of servants my scaly highness?" Sepharim had fluffed up his feathers, appearing to change the subject. “Has this gryphon's back been comfortable for your bottom? Why not sprout your wings and carry us to the wizard's house? I'll gladly point the way."

She'd replied with an icy stare, one that made his eyes seek out the surrounding landscape.

“Been meaning to ask you. Is your body just laying around like a sleeping princess? Waiting around for some prince dragon or whatever to nuzzle you?" He snapped back to her with a furry brow risen and a happy thump of his tail.

“No." She'd hissed, The gryphon gaze wandering around her waist, chest. She rolled her eyes as his tail flicked almost as if in amusement. He'd done the same thing upon catching her bathing.

Males.

“Must be very strange. Having all the mammal bits." He gestured to where her breasts. “Things that harden or shrink depending on the temperature."

“Quite." She replied flatly, crossing her arms. “I used to shape shift to forms to spy on my enemies. Or to lounge around. Certain times I felt rather adventurous." She sighed, recalling the times she'd swam through the sea as a dolphin, blissfully enjoying the natural traits of her people. Though as with everything of late, such thoughts were brimming with cold.

She noticed that the gryphon's eyes were like specters in the dim light, lacking the lust she expected to be there. Instead there lurked something colder. Buried beneath layers of fur and feathers. When there were quiet moments between the pair during, he'd catch a glance. Hesitantly flicking his ears. Like she was a ghost he'd linger staring in disbelief, and when she pointed it out he'd glance away with nary a word. If pressed, he'd deny it.

One clear night among many they'd settled down to watch the stars, their beautiful twinkling forms lighting up the vast sky. Even the snow sprinkled mountains in the distance looked far more appealing than usual, like a giant zebra of stone and ice. Dragon souls her people had called the stars. Or at least what Bahamut had promised them. Lights to bring beauty to those dragons that'd died. She wondered in a cold mood how many dotted the sky thanks to her. Was her whole race up there? Silently judging the being responsible for their destruction? She'd wound her arms tightly around her chest, fighting off the cold permeating through her bones. Even the fire couldn't chase away such an all encompassing chill.

It was then Sepharim had asked about his people being slaves, and she casually responded with the truth. Like every night he'd asked questions, her own truthfulness surprising even her. Someone would have surely chastised her for sharing such things with a lowly gryphon. Though when she dwelled on it. Who was left to judge her anyway?

Thanks to me.

He'd clacked his beak at the thought of his feathery brothers and sisters kept for racing. Clad in gilded cages like delightful songbirds. His fur had fluffed up in a hurry, every shooting up in resentment. Through the firelight he looked positively steaming, eyes brimming with yellow fire.

“The nerve of your people!"

She wasn't put off by his sudden surprise and merely shrugged. “It was the way our great people were. It was what lead to…" She paused, trying to collect her words. “The change."

His reply was bitter and taught, spittle practically spraying with every word. “You speak mighty lot bout your folks greatness. Your prestige and resplendence. But look around, will you?" He gestured to the darkened tree clad countryside with a wing. “Not a dragon flying anywhere in that sky."

Her teeth grit, just in time with her fists. As she was about to give him a piece of her mind he continued.

“Not to mention the business with that orb. Quite the grand folks that. Whose tail did ya step on? Did you enchant the wrong lordships son? Daughter?" He gave a throaty chuckle. “Speaks volumes about your kind, be mindful lest they plant talons in your back." His gaze only hardened as she met his with equal distain. “Or was it the slaves that finally gave what you deserved? Was it the gryphons? Please tell me it was the gryphons."

She snapped, voice cracking and finger thrust into his beak. “Is this a game to you gryphon?" Her heart throbbed as flames flew from her eyes. “Does my predicament amuse you to no end? Does it warm your pads to see that I was betrayed by the very people I meant to help? Bound to that orb for all of eternity in reward for my good deeds? That get your rocks off?"

Her finger trembled against his onyx beak, eyes finally misting after all this time. “After I'd lost everything else. My family, my siblings, my land, after each one was stripped from me. This was my final reward. One talon plunged into my backside." She could feel her limbs grow heavier as she released the pain held clos, his splayed ears only lit her fire further. “Now I awake to see my deeds were for nothing. My people have died like the plants after a frost. Mortals feasting on our corpses like flocks of carrion birds! Do you know how empty these skies look?" She thrust towards a low hanging cloud sickeningly in the shape of a rearing dragon. Its cloudy wings outstretched in mockery. “In my time they were teaming with my kind. At least one of us could be around flying, soaring, observing the land that welcomed us. We built cities, towns, libraries for knowledge. All of it squandered and destroyed in the years by the mortals that some us swore to protect. We should have shackled your people in the tightest of chains!" Her arm fell as did the first of her tears, running softly down her cheeks. “If this was the future that I'd seen then I'd have sided with my father." She gasped for air, voice wavering on collapse. “Anything would have been better than this hallow shell of a land that is left."

Sepharim said nothing at first, her words hanging on the air like a darkened shroud. His eyes hardened, an ear twitched and the gryphon's voice broke the silence in a near threatening growl.

“Strange words to be saying to the one flying your behind to the wizard. Even if you're a dragon in there. Bet walking will take you even longer." He snorted dismissively. “If you even make it. Lucky if some magister or beast doesn't get you. Turn you into a slave or an evening meal."

“I've survived on my own before." She countered, brow wrinkling. Many nights she'd spent training and religiously practicing through her survival skills. She wasn't the emperor's favorite for nothing. So, what if she was but an elf? It only brought on some minor complications.

“Another thing dragons are better at?" He rolled his eyes with an irritated chirp.

“Cursed with apparently." She wiped her cheeks, both their eyes meeting like crossed blades. “If you want to leave then do so. Leave a map where this wizard can be found and rid me of your presence." She could sense how close he was, ready to make good on that threat. Even the twitch of his tail was like a warning sign, preparing her for his choice. Though her mind screamed at her that this was stupid, that he was far more valuable on her side she didn't care. Maybe part of her wanted to be killed or wiped away? Finally, to be put out of the misery of living with what'd she'd done.

The dragoness that'd doomed her species to a slow death.

But he didn't say anything. His claws kneaded the soft ground at an almost snail like pace. “I'll think it over." He spat, trotting away from the fire. “Don't head out far. Dangerous monsters out there." Then she was alone, his tail vanishing behind a protruding rock.

She recoiled on herself, legs pushed against her chest. Her arms wound around them and hugged tightly. “Why am I even doing this?" She spoke softly, staring into their fire's dancing flames. Never had she felt so small or insignificant. Like a pebble tossed into a vast sea. It wrapped her up and swallowed her as she continued to sink into a black void. Faces of her people appeared out within the darkened clouds. She didn't dare look up to their accusing snouts. That was until she spied one by the fire's edge, a ghostly image of her towering father. His golden eyes locked right onto her, disappointed in her. Whiskers wafting along to a silent dance.

“So much of a promising daughter." She sighed, sinking her head into her legs. “Not only did I fail you. I failed our people more." She grabbed a stick, brandishing it like a sword before stabbing the burning logs. Hundreds of tiny motes of light shot up, casting her father away in the swarm of light. She didn't need any of their looks. Least of all his. Then, like a ruined castle she began to crumble and break. What walls she'd erected to protect herself came tumbling down. It started as a sniff, a misting or her eyes. Like a warrior she tried to resist the coming tide, the aching of her heart. But she wasn't strong enough. The flood gates released, and she collapsed on herself. Ossai the great dragoness was sobbing.

For countless minutes she silently wailed, not even trying to hide how pathetic she sounded. Un-dragon like some would say in hushed whispers, but they were no longer around to chastise her. She quivered and shook, remembering what good times she had. Dragons no longer around, and the future she helped create. None of it glorious, none of it bright. Nothing but the darkness and death of dragonkind. Soon to be faded and forgotten to the world. When her tears began to dry she gave a final sniff, raising her head to poke the fire and catching Sepharim staring at her from beyond the orange glow.

His ears were splayed, wings pinned to his back. His stance was loose. He didn't look at her with any menace or hatred, but his eyes were certainly wide and welcoming. He took a hesitant step, unfastening parts of his padded armor before the fire. She looked away, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

“What do you want?" She snapped.

“You're crying."

“What detective skills you have." She stoked the fire as he neared her, like he was trying to avoid caltrops.

“Dragons can do that?"

“Course we can do that. Not just in our true forms. Especially when at our wits end." She slumped, shrinking as the gryphon strode around her.

“I'm sorry." He settled down onto his belly with a soft coo. “For poking fun and all." His talon pivoted on the ground. “Was being rash and hurtful."

“As was I." She hissed, “Each day we travel. I see the horrors of my actions. I can see the snouts of my kin, seared into my eyes. All staring at me, silently judging. How'd you feel to know all gryphons were close to extinction because of you?"

He sighed and shifted himself closer. “They're not entirely extinct. Just because you can't see them around, doesn't mean they aren't there. Once you get your quest sorted you can go lookin. Stories circulate all the time bout them. Sure you can find some clutch or whatever you dragons call a group of you."

“Clan."

“Then clan it is." He hung his head, talon twirling in the dirt. “Can ya forgive a not so polite gryphon?"

She nodded, wiping her cheek a final time. “And you a dragoness sprung to tight?"

It was his turn to nod.

“Though can you not splay your nethers to me anymore?"

“But it makes you blush something awful! “I can do that. Though that was more to tease at you, and I know you gave them a long-" He clamped his beak when she gave him a hardened look. “Just a laugh is all!" He laughed nervously. “Just trying to lighten the mood. Get a smile to grace your cheeks.

“Well it didn't work." She composed herself, hands in her lap. “Just makes you look like an uncouth ruffian." She gave him a smirk, his head tilted with a raised brow, then they burst out laughing as one. It started small and continued to grow until both were out of gasping for breath. “Still flying me there?"

“Course." He laid down his head, eyes closed and mumbling sleepily. “I made a promise, didn't I?" Within a heartbeat he was softly snoring. She was left to admire his sleeping form, mixed with an adorable kick of his hind paws.

Maybe his company isn't all together grating.

When her gaze drifted to the stars, they seemed a tad less empty. His promise something to be hopeful of. Dragons were still out there. She peaked back as he kicked his leg, and a smile sprung to her from ear to ear.

* * * * * * * * * *

With the hurdle of their tension leaped over, their steady pace across the countryside seemed easier. Like a warming hearth had been lit inside the cold house of her heart. They'd crossed the kingdom of Lumara when they saw the signs of autumn. The splattering of green trees invaded by vibrant yellows, oranges and reds. Once lush fields of land had started to fade and recede, ready for winter's icy claws. The winds started to chill ever more, like little teeth that would nip at her sensitive skin.

Human villages were spread among these fields like rotten stumps, some little more than a sprawling collection of patchwork shacks and others like little forests of thatch and stone. Occasionally she'd spy a stone castle, rising up above the people like a guardian. Instinct quivered inside her, begging to land and perch atop them. Sink her claws as she took in the land, but that was up to Sepharim, and he didn't make such a choice. He did however get her a cloak when the wind's bite proved too much, to which she accepted with her draconic dignity. Course her cheeks were burning at the time and her heart was started to canter. She even graced him with a smile. But that was because of the cold wasn't it?

Often they were pulling out a map that he'd obtained from a village called Gryphon's pass. Apparently they'd nestled themselves beside a valley filled with gryphon wings. The people had been joyous and happy, sporting numerous feathers around their oversized buildings. Evidently they looked forward to their neighbors, as they had numerous stone perches for gryphons to rest their weary claws. According to the map they were close now to what was called the dragon's crown of the continent. Shed made a boast about the naming. “There is the proof of our greatness right there? Your people still name things after us. And look. If you squint your eyes hard enough the landmass looks like a dragon."

“Bahamut?" Sepharim had chuckled, beak nearly stitched to the parchment. He'd tilted his head, eye hovering mere inches over the ink. “Surely you jest. That's a gryphon." He pointed to the continent's wings and head. “For the glory of Portuga!"

They'd bickered back and forth over the topic, agreeing to disagree. Often, Ossai would find herself in these little sparings. She'd ask him how much longer or why he couldn't push harder. Milk a little more flight out of his wings. Even on the promise of more coins. He refused.

“Who would want to ruin these pretty things?" He'd flashed her his feathery wings, poking at their snow white features. “Sides, if danger wants to be finding us. I'd rather be fresh and ready to pounce. You know, instead of bein all exhausted like."

“And you think danger will find us?"

“When you do this long as I have, you learn it somehow always does." He'd chuckled, letting her back onto him with a playful swish of his haunches. “Besides." He'd offered her a wink, “Didn't think you'd want to keep riding me. Must be doing something right." She hadn't countered him, instead turning crimson as any dragon's scales.

Days turned to weeks which morphed into months as they traced along the dragon's spine. A series of mountainous regions overflowing with formations of towering rocks, valleys with life dotted rivers, and scores of multicolored birds. There were so many in such times that it looked like clouds of swarming colors, darting and shifting through the air on a mere whim. Though of all the birds in the sky, Sepharim proved to be the most captivating. His past a mystery, even despite his sharing about his clan and family. Each story she could see the cold permeating in his tone, he was keeping something still.

When the topic of his old friends were brought up he'd get tight beaked, and quickly change it to something else with a ruffling of his feathers. Each and every time there would be a pained look that would flash before his yellow pools. Like ghosts were still haunting him.

“You know, you made notion of getting to know you better to avoid being lonely." She said calmly one dusk, already starting to get ready the various bits of timber to light for their fire. They'd found a place high atop a mountain, nestled close to the trees almost so tightly knit that the wooden limbs were like an iron wall. “Yet here we are, and you've yet to share."

He shook his head, feathers ruffling. “Who said I was an open book to peruse through?"

She read his eyes, seeing the trickle of doubt flicker within. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic, especially afterwards he'd go for a quick walk, a heavy sigh always sending him out. Though this night he stayed, his eyes locked onto hers.

“Night after night you ask." He gleamed at his talons, dragging one through the ground of their camp, startling a nearby squirrel that'd gotten too close. “Why would a lady so high above me, possibly want to take a gander at the life of some lowly gryphon."

She rolled her eyes as he offered her a chirp. She knew he wasn't trying to antagonize her. Possibly play with her a little bit. “Humor me then." She dug into her pack, sifting through it until she found the flint and tinderbox. How much easier this would be when she could change her breath. No more clumsily fumbling around to start a spark.

“Very well." He grumbled, thumping his tail. His usual jovial tune died as he briefly recounted some previous friend's lives. He spoke about silly adventurers and escapades, always one step ahead of bandits and mercenaries that were after them. When the fire had started to build, he was laughing, his crowns extended one by one. With him she joined in the laughter, the warmth ever infectious. Like a river the stories flowed easily and rapidly, but then he got quieter, shivering, and staring deeply into the dancing flames. He'd ended with a heavy sigh and shifted his hindquarters, the joy seemingly killed right there. “But those days are gone now."

“What happened? If your days were filled with such laughter and joy…Why not find more to fill the void?" She met his eyes, a strand connecting the two. They misted and he looked away, insisting that she ask another time. “Very well." She'd sighed, resting a hand to caress his feathery back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Autumn gave birth to winter as Ossai and Sepharim neared what the gryphon called “the gryphon's crown." He'd smirked as she got flustered and smacked him on the back of his feathery neck.

Chilling winds and storms of powdery snow forced them to slow their pace. Luckily, she'd picked up some warmer clothes to clad herself in. Thick padded armor, stitched with thick furs, blankets. Thick boots, a coat of wool with a furred hood. Not to mention a pair of gloves to warm her fingers. For while feathers and fur seemed to do wonders for the gryphon, the cold had bit at her like a pack of hungry wolves. She'd spend the flights with tightened hands through his feathers, teeth chattering as she prayed for their next stop and promises of a warm fire. Shed curse her frail form, teeth chattering and skin practically icing over.

He'd chuckle through the day's flights about her red cheeks, acting like a parent as he'd insist that she get warm. His concern was touching, more than usually displayed for her. She'd long for her scales and magic during particularly long gusts, winds as if they were trying to batter the poor pair from the sky. But despite this Sepharim pushed himself harder, finding strength in his powerful wings. It was only storms that kept him grounded, while days at a time were lost to the cursed weather. They'd hold up in caves or underhangs during such times, staring angrily as fluttering snow danced around them.

She'd always despised the snow as a dragon, the icy little daggers that ran across her scales. The bite it would give her tail. Its why she'd controlled the weather in her domain. Leave it always warm enough to laze around and enjoy the sun, never having to worry about stupid breezes or ice. Nor this infernal chattering of her teeth.

“How nice would it would be." Sepharim had chuckled when she shared, chirping away like a happy bird. “Though I was built for the snow I always preferred the more temperate climate." He'd batted at the flakes coming down like troublesome flies. “Guess another oddity to add to the list. What kind of shindigs would your people get up to during the snow?"

“We hated the snow. At least most of us did." She'd held out a hand, glaring as the tiny flakes melted against her palm. “It chills through out scales like the sharpest of blades…Unless you're a silver or white dragon." She wrinkled her nose at the idea of those pair happily prancing through a blizzard. “The fools."

“True enough." He turned to her, one ear bending while the other stood tall. “I wouldn't mind showing you around the land if you don't mind following a gryphon's tail. Bet you're eager to spread those pretty wings of yours."

“Trying flattering to get a bigger reward?" She'd countered, straightening her back. Ignoring the rushing blood to her cheeks. “We already agreed on a price."

He waved her off with a talon. “Yea but that's to get you there. I'm talking bout after. Besides." Wasn't trying to get a bigger reward anyway. You paying plenty." He laughed with a chirp, she'd smiled.

“Hey you can smile!" His ears perked straight up. “Now ain't that something. Best we tell the other mortals that be possible?"

She pushed away his beak with a hefty shove. “I smile you dolt. Just because I don't do it all the time like some sort of daft fool doestn't mean you need to draw attention to it." Now her cheeks were blushing without her say so, burning as a pleasing glow fluttered about her chest. He only clicked his tongue, possibly having caught on. To keep him off the scent she poked fun of his feathers and ambitions, not realizing they had scooched closer together. It wasn't until they'd lost themselves in talk and were next to each other did she notice. She was pressed up right against him. His warmth like a pleasing furnace.

Their eyes met, then traveled to where their bodies met. Awkward laughter bubbled up in both of their chests as they talked about the cold and simply getting warm. They shared a drink that night, sampled on some gathered nuts and berries. As the air filled with a thick cloud of jovial laughter it brought questions to her.

Could she get this close to a mortal? A gryphon of all things? Often, she'd questioned or laughed at the Bahamut dragons that'd done so. Yet here she was, getting to know this one better. Sharing in laughs, listening to his plights, and enjoying herself. That was new. Was it cause the absence of her kind? Or the kindness he'd shown her? That fuss she'd never had over her. That night had ended with his talon wrapped around her, dragging her in under him. Wings came next to caress her in warmth. She was locked within a feathery prison, her face buried in his chest. His scent stripping away cares. It was the best sleep she'd gotten in the entire trip.

* * * * * * * * *

From then she'd gone hunting with him. Especially during times when they'd not wanted to feast on trail rations or dried meat. You just couldn't beat the taste of something freshly cleaned and cooked. Though if not for her elven form she might have suggest it be raw. There was something so satisfying ripping apart one's meal with your own teeth. But this time was something different. Sepharim had noted how close they were to his friend's house. This would probably be the last meal they shared before her true form, and though she longed to return to normal. She'd accepted this deal. What was another day? This gryphon had grown on her, and she increasingly thought about taking him up on his offer.

They agreed to venison. One of the animals known to the area, and it was easier for him to track. Also, it would give her ample time to sample some spices that they'd picked up from a hamlet along the way. She had to put a rest to his jovial attitude about her skills. That she could cook something when she tried, not burn it like the fish many moons ago. She played it off with casualness, preparing him to eat his taunting words.

The stage had been set for their meal. The fire was already prepared, the veggies had been cut and minced by dagger and talons. They now just needed to catch the venison and get to work. They were out in the surrounding forest, intertwined with the skeletal like trees around them. Sepharim's muscles were tensed, haunches prepped to launch himself at a moment's notice. And of course, he was doing a terrible job. One that she pointed out, how she in her true form could be better.

“Your stance is all wrong." Her fingers tapped at the gryphon's haunches, pointing to how his hinds were not properly braced in the packed snow. “You're going to lose some initial burst of speed."

“And I'm not a dragon." He snapped back quietly, pressing his beak through a skeleton like structure of a bush. His feathers would keep him relatively hidden, white feathers against pristine snow. They crouched among a winter wonderland of bare trees, thick pines and mounds of beaten down snow.

“Then I suggest you hunt us the meal. Oh right." He chuckled, ears bouncing. “You're a two legger. You'd be terrible at it."

He wasn't wrong. But damn she wasn't going to let that stand. She playfully smacked his onyx beak with the back of her hand, setting sights to the snow. “One that knows how to hunt properly. Give me a spear or something. Then we can compare skills."

“How about you just let me do." He crouched low, voice getting lower. His haunches wiggled.

“What you doing?"

“Hunting." He wiggled his hinds, crouching in the snow. His tail flicked over the white powdery, almost signaling his coming pounce. “I found one. You can just disapprove with your silence."

“I could shout at your ineptitude."

“Then you won't get a meal. And not prove that you can cook something."

Her arms crossed as he chuckled, the air was ripe for a retort most scathing.

“I guess it will be something gryphons aren't good at. Leave it to a dragon to properly get it one."

“So, if you don't mind an inquiry. How'd the previous lady hunt in her true form." Sepharim started to tentatively crawl, eyes locked onto the furred form of several deer that'd taken stance not that far away. They were tentatively strolling through the leg high snow, stopping to perk their heads around.

“From above for starters." She sighed, picturing a long morning spent on such a task. It was always something to practice, a carnal want and instinctual need that always sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through her bones. No dragon in the entire world hated it. Came as natural as collecting valuable things. You could even say it was draconic in nature, built into their very blood. She ignored his insistence again that he'd leave her to sit in her “grumpiness" in silence.

“Did you ever hunt gryphon?" The question was tame enough, but it was accompanied with a splayed ear.

Her silence spoke volumes at her time doing such a task. Often it was to test her speed. Some live black dragons loved to do it. Often their favorite prey. “Once or twice."

He chirped indignantly. “How'd you cook in your true form? Roast it with your fire breath until blackened?"

“No." her nose twitched as the deer began to crawl closer towards their hiding spot. “I breathed poisonous gas."

“Wow." He snickered, “Never heard such a bad breath it can kill ya where ya stand."

“You know. If you keep up squawking, you're never going to catch anything."

“That remains to be seen poison mouth. Perhaps I can chat them to death."

She glared at him, he chirped and smiled back. “Just get back to hunting."

“Plan to." He whispered, gesturing to one smaller one among them. It was walking with a limp. Probably slower, doing them a favor honestly. He sprung like a loosed arrow, flaring his wings to gain a brief burst of speed. His talons outstretched with deadly purpose, snow scattering like sand. The beast tried to run, but Sepharim was too quick. His talons flashed, the buck cried, and in a spray of crimson his prey was down.

He carried the limp corpse back by the scruff of its neck, with a swollen chest and prideful swish of his tail. He looked more like a cat with a catch than a gryphon, and she couldn't help but chortle in amusement. “You could have done better. “I'd have had that shaved down to a matter of seconds fewer than you. Sloppy, you let it get a few good gallops away." She coughed, composing herself as he gave her a raised brow.

He replied with a muffled rumble, ears flicking back and forth. Almost as if to say. Well you're not around to do that are you.

“Now back to the fire so we can get to cleaning it you oversized feline." She smacked his snow dusted flank. His tail returned the gesture in kind.

They returned to an area they'd cleared of any rocks and scattered debris. It was higher than most of the surrounding land, so that they could see into the distance. Of the treetops and the mountain tops. They'd even spied the cottage of their destination just sitting among a field on the edge of the horizon. Just a muddied blur to her, but the gryphon had insisted that was it. She lit the flames of their roughly cobbled together campfire, of scattered branches and more dry wood. Sepharim dropped the corpse with a sigh, inspecting his sullied feathers all over with a heavy sigh.

“Was bound to happen I suppose." His feathers drooped.

“It's only going to get worse." She laid out a tarp, instructing the gryphon to start working. She pulled out her gleaming knife, blade poised to start cleaning their catch. To the seductive movements of their fire, they cut and sliced sections of the dead buck away, exposing flesh and tendons to the open air. Crimson marred her exposed arms, the surrounding snow, even more clinging to the gryphon's talons.

She'd separated larger thin chunks and organs into a separate pile, tossing what they'd waste into the bushes for some predator later to nibble clean. By the time they were done, both looked like crude surgeons, Sepharim burst out laughing as silence fell between them.

“Well. Don't we look rather gruesome." His crowns bounced. “Folks take one look and be mortified."

She just held up an arm in interest. “I always liked having a bit of blood. Really hammers home the intimidation." She smiled and he stuck out his tongue.

“Dragons." His eyes rolled. “Next you'll tell me you're going to decorating your caves with the heads of your enemies."

“Sometimes." She countered, gathering a few sharpened sticks to skewer their meat. “Lets others know you mean business. Especially your rivals."

“Why stop there? Why not hang their entrails and assorted other bits." He started licking clean his forelimbs at a steady pace. “Complete that image of a deranged psychopath."

“Well what would adorn your home? Feathers and twigs? Make one giant nest for all your birds to squish together?"

He stopped to glare at her. “We don't actually live in nests like birds. I take offense to that!" He fluffed up his feathers, looking like a dandelion about to let loose its seeds.

“Does it have shiny baubles like the ravens like?" She smiled, he deflated and looked away with a single huff. He missed her pulling out the spices to sprinkle about their catch. Just like the recipe he'd insisted on them cooking. One he mentioned was for friends and folks traveling together.

“You can shut your mouth. Go back to burning the buck."

“I'm not going to burn it!"

The air once filled with cold bite was now consumed with the smell of cooking meat as the sun finally parted from this world. The flames enchanted the area with their orange glow as Ossai rotated the meat, careful not to go about burning it. Sepharim would watch as he cleaned himself, tapping his tail impatiently, even his tail feathers were slowly flicking up and down. It was during such time that she grabbed a non-soiled rag and cleaned her arms. “So, when was the last time you ate this sort of meal?" She gave him an honest smile as he turned to her, eyes a perfect mirror for the dancing flames.

He suddenly stilled, like a cold had gripped him. He looked to her, then to the fire, releasing a heavy sigh. His ear twitched as the light in his eyes dimmed, his crowns lowering one by one until they lay flat. She was going to move on with the subject when he interrupted her.

“With my last companions."

“The ones you don't talk about?" She rose a brow, scooching a tad closer as the gryphon shivered. Like a far colder breeze had washed over the camp.

“A bit. Pasts a funny thing to talk about."

“Didn't seem that hard with your folks." She rotated the meat, sizzling fat dripping down onto the logs.

“This is a tad different. One tends to not try and remember the other part."

“Then how do you learn from your mistakes?"

He turned his head, ears pinned. “What makes you think I made the mistake?"

Again, silence settled around them. He stared through her, eyes like yellow specters within the firelight. He snapped away, almost as if she'd wounded him. She hadn't meant to do that. Despite their differences he'd still flown her here. Without realizing it, she'd scooched closer to him. Even rested a hand on his shoulder as he settled down onto his belly. Warmth teased at her fingertips, pulling his attention like a siren's song.

“What happened to them?" She turned the meat again, still massaging up his warm feathers. His hinds stirred as she continued her journey, his haunches wiggling. He then began his tale.

“Not going to get to the specifics, but the gist of it was a job went south. You do what you need to do to survive and sometimes things catch up to you." He kneaded the ground with a talon, drawing thick lines in the dirt.

She nodded, just like she'd paid for her father's mistakes, and by extension hers.

“Magister's caught up with us when we neared their land Turns out one of those orange bastards didn't take too kindly to us making a fool outta them. Even saved a woman destined to be a bonded. Spell flinger brought a few dozen mercenaries to hunt us down. We ran and fought but I never seemed enough. The final nail on the coffin was a betrayal. Either the money was too good or whatnot, a friend turned on us." His beak seemed to shake as he stared up into the stars. He squeezed shut his eyes, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “Tortured us for days on end." He guided her hands to a few scars on his chest as he recounted blades being dragged against his hide, needles stabbed into him. “Then they started whippin, did something funny with these little things shaped like a flower. In the end I managed to escape. Killed the bastard responsible but no one else made it." He sighed and she rubbed around his splayed ear. He may not have been a dragon, but she understood what he was going through.

“And the woman?"

He whined, a mournful thing as he lowered his beak. “Turned into a bonded.Been on my own since."

“And you decided to visit a magister town after all that?" She pulled his beak towards her. “What logic does that make?"

“Man was dead, was visiting a friend." He looked away, but not pulling from her touch. “Guess you got lucky I visited. You'd have been snatched up just like her." His deflecting laughter filled the air as he splayed his furry ears. “But you already you got me bleedin on ya." He wiped his eyes with a sniff. “Can't be crying all night and all." He gave her a fake smile, “Wouldn't be a good way to remember the dead anyway."

“Wish I could say the same." She trailed off, trying her hardest not to picture her nightmares from their journey. Then without warning he leaned up on her. She was about to push him off, but the warmth was comforting. She curled a hand around his ear, rubbing at the base. He cooed softly, eyes slowly closing. “How did you honor the dead?" Her voice was shaky.

“We celebrate their lives more often or not. Hoping they're joining us in these moments. We have this day where the flights gather to remember those not with us. They bring feathers, catches to be feasted and all sort of decorations. Drinks are drunk, songs are had, and tales are shared if they were still with us." He plucked up a stick to stoke the fire, sending little fire motes spiraling into the air. “The one thing I miss about gryphon lands. I mean...humans are great and all…It's just…" He motioned to her. “You'd get that. Must be worse for you."

When he looked back with kind eyes, she felt a tad colder. “I had my duty to do." She sighed, shuttering. “And look where it got us."

“Would you still do it again?" His voice was quiet, but serious.

She remembered the future she saw with burning lands and cracked earth. Violent storms ripping the earth asunder. But without the war being fought there was to be a chance. One where their home wasn't destroyed. If only she'd been more wise about Bahamut's followers. Maybe then she'd have been around to guide their shattered peoples in rebuilding alliances. Or maybe that's what they were afraid of. The emperor's daughter rebuilding his empire anew. Cold and calculated. One move if she was on the other side she might have made.

“I would." Her voice shook as she rubbed her fingers. “It had to be done. The world….was breaking. We were breaking."

“Careful now, make it sound like you're a person when ya talk like that. Not a regal and powerful dragon."

“I am still that." She wrinkled her face and he just smiled.

“Oh. I never insinuated you weren't." His wings wiggled. “I bet you were the scaliest, the greenest, and the most regal of all the dragons. Even cooking!"

“See that's better." She patted his hide and enjoyed his chirping laughter until even she was leaning on him. “Maybe you'll be better with words the more you try."

“So, what were your people really like? The bad dragons and all."

“Story for another night." She smirked, drawing a chuckle from him. “I thought it was supposed to be about happy memories, not ones that linger still."

“I never said it was tonight!" He squawked indignantly. “You must tell me!"

“You tell me about your friends curious gryph. Then you shall loosen my tongue." The sway of his head made her smirk, sighing as the warm scents washed over them. They stirred her stomach, her mouth water. Damn this gryphon probably knew his stuff. Did it earn him a gleam into her past? Perhaps.

“Fine." He shook his head, fluffing up feathers. “You manipulative scaled ness. We had three others with me. Some of the thickest friends I'd ever flown with." He flared out his wings, flashing his talons like swords. “There was drax, the able warrior, clever with two swords and faster with the humor. Wasn't too bright but that wasn't the point." He rose up to all fours, pouncing a few paces and swiping at the air. “Always took things literally, slashed his way through countless foes. Sometimes he scared me with how he laughed and killing troubled him none."

“Sounds like a true follower of Kord the god of war."

“Guess they lack the subtlety like demeanor of other god folks." He paced around the fire, raising his ears, like little knives atop his head. “Then there was Gamora, an elf of able skill and hand. She wanted to see the world, experience pleasures that life gave her. Make memories that would be carried into her next cycle. You know. Elves believing in reincarnation and all that. Anyway, she never had a lick of meat, but tried to make us all feel guilty about it." He bounced a few steps, raising his voice as if chastising himself.

“Do you know that one had a family? His name was Ted!" He chuckled weakly, patting a section of the snow with his talons. “Is it bad that I may have ate a bit more gruesomely around her? Just to tick her off? Wondering what story she'd tell next?"

“Possibly?" She found herself laughing, imagining the elf's scrunched up features.

He sighed, smiling at the fire. “Never did run out of stories she did. Always had a damned new one."

“Reminds me of a dragoness I knew. Teal of scales and always friendly. Fell in love with her mortal servants and such. Even knew all of them by name! I think she somehow survived off fruit and vegetables."

“Oh, how your blue blood shows." He pranced over, nudging at her with his beak. “Its probably not wise to go bragging to someone that'd have been your slave."

“I was going on about adapting." She poked the hardened thing. “But if you must know, you'd have been one of my most treasured gems. You have fast wings, pleasant conversation and an attractive coat." His beak shut suddenly; her own cheeks flared in warmth. Nothing but the fire filled the air. Both looked away from one another until he was laying down beside her once more. He glanced back to her, a little more fondly then she'd have liked. “Not like that!" She pushed his head away, trying to hide the crimson in her cheeks. But this was crazy right? Or maybe it was simply the good cheer. Regardless, her heart was fluttering like crazy. In the recesses of her mind she wondered if he was feeling the same?

“Good!" He laughed, throwing back his head. “Scared me that you'd gone soft! Or developed a taste for gryphons! You know…beyond the food!"

They laughed away the awkwardness, quickly changing the subject to a dragon. One that had found himself on the tail end of her interest. How he'd been confident and sure of himself, a taste far amusing plays and magical experiments. All too much a shame that when the claws came to shove to choose her father over herself. She chuckled, forgetting to mention that she'd cracked his skull open, all in an attempt to hide her involvement with Bahamut from her father.

“Like blue's huh? All those spines?" He flared up his crowns, trying to snort and act all regal like a dragon. He gave a fake growl. “All rumbly and aggressive?" He sighed, swinging his tail behind her. “Heard some of them nest to the far south of the continent. Might be a good place to look when you're back to normal."

Now that was promising. “I guess that would be a place to visit after. I have a vast amount of time to catch up on."

“Think they will be welcoming of you?"

His question was innocent, but it stopped her fluttering heart. Would they though? Not all dragons could hate her. But would they even recognize her after all this time? Maybe it would be best to not reveal her true name. Simply be another green dragon just wandering around. Give the other dragons ample time to know her before revealing her more divine bloodline. Even then…Maybe not at all. Her thoughts were scattered until Sepharim apologized with a chirp. She'd been silent for quite some time without even realizing it.

“No no no." She caught his head, pulling it into a hug. She rubbed at the bottom of his jaw until the gryphon's feathers were all ruffled and his eyes were closed in bliss. “You did nothing wrong. I was just thinking is all. You're being quite the nice company."

“Even for a non dragon?" He pulled back with raised ears and a grin.

She frowned and he smirked, non chalantly glancing away with a chuckle.

“Suppose it's fair. I'm putting up with your snobbishness. Would have driven any good natured folk up the wall." His brows rose several times, leaning toward her face.

She pushed it back with a hearty laugh. “Others would have been surprised that you picked up the ability to speak!"

Back and forth they jabbed at each other, often ending with wrinkled faces or fluffed feathers. The evening's aura taking on a warmer tone, even disregarding the fire's contribution. That was until their meal was ready to be devoured. With ravenous hunger they dug into flesh, smoky flavor's danced over their tongues. The air was filled with the sound of ripping meat, a clacking beak, and blissful moans of elf and gryphon. One might thing two animals were at work. Little words were shared as the time passed with their happy sounds. Stars sprung into existence, shining bright in the air. A cold wind swept through their rocky camp, whispering sweet sounds through the barren trees. They exchanged pleased looks; she offered her thanks.

Gone were the troubled thoughts of her kin, and the phantom eyes watching her. Free to relax and chat about with the cordial and polite gryphon willing to share an intimate meal. Their conversation ended with them leaned up against one another, and a burp and pleased sigh. He laughed how unlady like that it was. All in all, this had been a good night. One surprise out of many. Who knows? Maybe when she got her true form she would take humanoid form more often? Just to experience said pleasures such as this.

Sepharim glanced to her, beak splattered with running juices of his meal, yellow suns met hers and there was a moment of warmth that passed through the air. He slurped his beak free to clean, picking up his head with twitching ears. Then the sun's light died, his muscles tensed.

“Something the matter?" She brushed her dagger, practically tasting the tension that hung in that air. It felt like the precarious seconds before a volcanic eruption. A sudden calm before everything came unwinding.

The gryphon went to speak but was drowned out as the ground suddenly cracked and shook. Rivers of stone raced in all directions. It thundered and rumbled, shaking the very ground. Out from this place came not lava but instead a creature of blue armored chitin with insectoid limbs.

It had more than she could count as she slid away from the eruption of stone, mindful to not be trapped by the shifting rocks. She sought cover as the beast erected itself fully, wiggling its arms and scanning the area with blood red eyes, seemingly glowing in the dwindling fire of their camp. Its large bulbous eyes gleamed menacingly in the firelight, unfurling a large hood reminiscent of a cobra. It's beetle like jaws clicked in a unrecognizable tune as it swished around.

From its back came seemingly thousands of tiny spines, wiggling like forks in the wind. It made contact with the ground, snow melting in its wake. She recognized the beast from years past. This was a Ramoraz, no problem for a fully-grown dragon. But for a body she was in? The beast could swallow her whole and scurry off. Its preferred hunting tactic. She ducked low, not dare moving a muscle as the beast scurried around, its jaws drooling an orange viscous liquid.

What was it even doing here? They are typically ambush predators. Had it been asleep?

She pulled free her blade from her side, finding her arm was trembling. She hadn't come this far to end up as some stupid insects' meal! Besides, they had wings! All she had to do was find Sepharim in this mess and take off. Peering over her hiding rock, she scanned the debris laden area for her feathery friend. She found him easily enough, he was hard to miss. The not so great part was his hinds were trapped beneath a pile of stone. Some larger than her head. Curse the damned luck! He was also unmoving, though from being sneaky or unconscious she didn't know. She'd have to get closer, and that meant risking the Remoraz finding her.

She surged to his side when the insect was furthest from her, slithering about the area like a clicking serpent. She prayed that it's eyes were bad in the dwindling light as she crossed from rock to rock, her heart practically leaping from her chest.

“Are you awake?" She whispered, running a hand along his feathery hide and kneeling before his head.

“Yes." He hissed back, tugging his hind leg. “Just leave me woman." He waved a talon at her. “Otherwise you're going to wind up ate!"

“Won't get exactly far on foot." She repositioned herself, hands on one of the stones trapping him.

“You don't know that."

“Yeah?" She grunted, muscles aching from the downward push. In this form she'd be lucky to out pace the creature, which was far better at traversing the rocks. The rock didn't budge.

“Lady. There's still a chance." His voice lowered, watching the Remoraz toss a few rocks around with an insectile hiss. “You're going to lose it if you stay. I can draw it in, you can run while it's distracted."

“That sounds like a suicide." She glared back at the gryphon.

“I'd like to call it volunteer death .It's a brief chance or none."

“What direction is the wizard then?" She pushed again with clenched teeth, muscles screaming.

“Arnt you more important?"

If not for the impending arrival of their chitin clad friend, she might have agreed. “Point is. I need you." Damn this rock, it wasn't moving! She did feel it shift as he tugged, but It wouldn't come free without some semblance of noise alerting the creature. And speak of the devil, the remora snapped to them like lightning, surging over debris with an alien need within its crimson eyes.

“Leave!"

“You keep trying to free yourself. Don't die under there!" She bolted from their hiding spot, hurling a rock to the towering insect. It thumped against its head, halting it's charge. Piercing eyes set their gaze on her as if the beast was suddenly contemplating it's decision. It sprung into action, swiftly hounding her steps with a nightmarish crackle of stone. Rock, dirt and even small trees that laid within its path proved not worthy of stopping it as it sailed straight for her.

Ossai's legs soon burned as she scampered through the forest, ducking and weaving through trees and lingering bushes. It was all she could do to not yell, chastise herself for this mistake. Once or twice she nearly slipped on a rock hidden under the snow, allowing her pursuer to ever close the gap behind her. Was it worth it? One gryphon's life over her own? All of this journey coming to an end cause of a slip in judgement?

Of course life is cruel.

This insect was living proof of that! She almost slipped down the side of a rocky cliff when she peaked to see where it was. But at the base of this rocky incline was perhaps her salvation. That of a frozen over lake. Could it support the creature's weight? She didn't have long to think before she was sliding down the incline towards it, narrowly missing the insect's jaws.

Still it pursued her with a determination unaltered. Down the rocks that slid beneath its limbs, hissing and clacking right behind her.

She forced her legs to run when she hit the ground, grunting as pain coursed through her side. She didn't have time to nurse it, down came the beast seconds after. Its jaws found empty air as her heart leapt from her chest, it's heavy foot falls clacked on the ice. She could smell its breath, a sickly thing that reminded her of a rotting bog. It was inches from snatching her up. Salvation came in the sound of resounding cracks; the ice could no longer hold. Thunderous lines that spread out in all directions. Before she could cheer her success, it had her, long body snapping at her like a charging cobra.

Its jaws clamped down onto one leg, like a vice. Heat surged forth like a forge. She screamed like a banshee, pain blinding as she was pulled back towards it's open maw. She could feel the heat licking at her legs. It was going to swallow her. There was another crack as the beast froze, almost as if it where aware of what was to come. This was her chance, she stabbed towards it's insectile face, blade sinking deep into its eye. It screeched and thrashed like an untamed stallion, and more importantly letting her go. Though none to softly. She fell ten straight feet to the ice, landing with a flash of pain as her leg cracked. But that wasn't all.

The ice could no longer stand up to the repeated thrashing of her insectile enemy, the frozen lake below it cracking and folding in. One line then many more, welcoming the insect into an icy tomb. It slipped into the water with a mighty splash, legs desperately trying to find hold. But when it tried to cling the ice would fragment, denying its desperate plea for survival. Then it vanished.

With shallow breaths she rested on her back, heart beating faster than a drum. She couldn't believe her luck. It couldn't swim, she'd survived! Laughter bubbled up out of her in sheer catharsis. But then like a demon the Remoraz burst free of the water, a talon crashing down beside her. One last desperate plea to survive, but even that was denied it. The ice shattered, dragging Ossai and it down into the icy depths. No time to curse her rotten luck.

She thrashed as icy water swallowed her, filled every bit of her being. Though her body was exhausted, broken, she slowly sank into the blackened waters. This couldn't be it! Her mind screamed as she desperately tried to get back to the surface. She was the emperor's daughter! It couldn't end like this! Darkness soon had her; her lungs close to bursting. Second by second her movements slowed, as a fuzziness clung about her head. She could feel the encroaching cold within her bones, like an unrelenting foe.

How fitting. To escape one darkness and be carried to another one. Far off she heard a possible scream, muffled by her watery prison. Was that Sepharim come to see her final resting spot? She smiled as the waking world slipped through her fingers.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ossai drifted along a twilight sky, with only the cold to brush against her wings. Clouds spiraled beneath them with every flap, the stars guiding her path along the earth she caught in small glimpses. The ivory full moon hung above all the rest, bright and radiant, reaching out to caress everything. Like the goddess Sartren herself was watching down upon her creation.

Rivers and lakes crisscrossed every which way, like tiny vials of spilled ink on a tapestry of muted colors. She caught herself gliding in a mirror like reflection of a giant lake, a heavy sigh escaped her lips. It all had been for nothing. Her betrayal, her resistance, her current plans. She'd just ended up dead. Chills colder than the artic crawled up her claws, digging through flesh to grasp hold the marrow of her bones. She was destined to drift to the heavens and spend the rest of her afterlife as one of the many stars. At least that's what Bahamut and Sartren had promised. Her questions would never be answered now, for dragons could not be brought back to life. Even with the most powerful of healing magic. Would the ones she betrayed accept her? Forgive her? Or would they look down on her as nothing but a pariah. Forever to be spurned and shunned?

Great scaled claws trembled like a wyrmling as the cold night ate away at her heart. But with a sulk of her neck she was not alone. For among the clouds came another beast that crested through the many clouds. One of platinum scales and draconic eyes of liquid mercury. The moonlight gleamed off the fellow dragon's scales, revealing a creature at least twice Ossai in size. Her grey membranes rippled on the night air, otherwise being entirely silent. Her frilled head tilted back, single eye staring Ossai up and down as she sprung forth like a dolphin of the sea, tilting a wing and swinging around. This was Bahamut, the goddess of dragons.

There was a saddened look about her, glimmering in the twilight and expressed without a word. Her snout gestured to the sky as if to tell the green dragon to follow. So, she did without question, surging forth and taking her place but a wing's beat away. They drifted for several seconds, their wingtips almost touching within the night's embrace.

“Bahamut..For a goddess..." She looked away, unable to meet the eye of the most powerful dragon she knew. “You're terrible at helping our people. Where you aware your people imprisoned me? Despite the aid I brought them? You may be shattered, but even the might of a god wouldn't be able to…" She peered back, getting no reply. Just a singular weighty look, and a snort. With a flap of her mighty wings Bahamut led her up through the sky, as if a singular cord were tied around her neck. But then she was stopped, as if by an invisible wall. She could progress no further. Both dragons stopped, hissing at their frustration and taking a hover in the air.

What sorcery was this? Ossai glanced from head to her tail. Why could she not ascend to the heavens? Her eyes traveled back to the goddess of dragons demanding an answer. Bahamut just gestured to the countryside with a throaty chuckle. As if the answer were staring her right in the face. Within the darkened countryside there was a soft glimmer of light. One dot of orange and red among the dark, muted tapestry. The longer she stared the more it grew, until golden light was bursting forth. Like an unending tide to touch and caress everything it could. Muted blacks and greys exploded into all colors as the cold was beaten back by warmth. Stars vanished one by one, replaced by the enchanting blue of a summer's sky. The clouds began to recede as even Bahamut started to fade. As Ossai struggled to form words to her surprise, draconic roars were heard in the countryside. Her people were not gone. Her name was whispered along the gentle breeze, sounding more and more like her gryphon companion.

Sepharim? She snapped her head from the pleasing images to Bahamut. “Is it not my time?" But when she turned the goddess was gone, and with the next flap of her wings she awoke.

* * * * * * * * * *

Old birch mixed with the lingering scent of a smoke. This apparently was the scent of life that raced into her, gently pushing her awake. Fuzzy images sprang up from her eyes, set to a rippling color of red and orange. She blinked away a thick grogginess as the sounds of a crackling fire came to her ears. She was alive.

She was within a bed, covered with thick blankets of wool and hide in a smallish room. A fireplace sat nearby, flames flickering, dancing and bringing warmth to her bones. The walls were covered with worn, uneven shelves filled with books from different ages. Vials of old ink dotted a weathered, candle covered desk, pages strewn about long forgotten. Hidden among the furniture were assorted baskets of varying things. Some more useful like brewers tools and empty glass bottles for potions, but some puzzling like one devoted to nothing but numerous balls of yarn. She shook her head, hand resting on a small table at her side. Bandages, needles and assorted other medical things were left there. Someone had no doubt mended her wounds.

But who found me? Sepharim?

That couldn't be right. This cottage was far too small for a gryphon of his size. He wouldn't be able to fit through the door! Even if he were to rest inside, he would have to at least duck his head. Ossai lifted the sheets off of her, to find her midsection all wrapped in bandages, her leg that'd been broken was splinted with sections of timber and wound with thick bandages. Well whoever found her at least knew to set a leg.

She scowled, tossing the blankets back over her, unable to stare at it for a second longer. Crimson eyes, burning chitin, and the cold claws flashed through her mind. She shivered at how close her quest was to ending.

But it didn't. She owed whatever did this a lot. More than she'd owned anyone before in a while. Though her father claimed to have loved his children, to save someone at the risk of your own was unheard of in dragon kind. Especially if you could profit from another's death.

Her stomach squirmed at the notion, like she'd eaten a rotten apple. Her clothing had been stripped clean off, and folded over an old chair close to the fireplace. Her boots lay beside them, like they were resting and enjoying the flames company.

How long have I been here?

She didn't see any signs of food, any skewers for a humanoid to have eaten, or bowls and plates. She tried to shift but felt weak. She was forced to lay back down, staring at the thatch covered ceiling and ponder her predicament. That was until a resounding clunk sounded through the cabin.

The only door suddenly widened if under the effects of a spell. Large enough for Sepharim to slip through from the snow draped forest behind him. His feathers were dusted with white flakes that he shook free, dragging in a bundle of wood wrapped tight with a leather belt. He dropped it, scanned the room and met her eyes. His ears bolted up faster than his head, smacking right against the roof.

“Lady!" He dropped the bundle with a clatter, practically racing over to her. She had to weakly push away his inquisitive beak when it descended on her. “You're okay! I'd started to fear the worst!"

Did he save me? She soon was bombarded by numerous questions as the gryphon sat upon his hinds, practically filling the entire room.

“Yes, I'm feeling fine. My head doesn't ache. My leg feels fine but itchy. I'm warm, I'm not having problems with my breathing." She had to latch onto his beak just to put an end to them. “I'm fine." She spoke clearly, staring into his concern filled eyes. Truthfully, she felt endeared that he'd care that much about her. She brushed his cheek and let him go, thankfully not subjected to more questions. “You can stop worrying about me like some sort of hatchling."

He gave an irritated squawk, eyes drifting to her stomach. “You wouldn't be saying that if you saw how frightful you looked. Plenty of cuts and a broke leg. Anything but fine. Add that to the cold that had you." His voice trailed off as the darker meaning was implied, following it with a deep gulp. “But it's good to see you awake. Been mighty lonesome without you talkin storm."

“So that's why you leaped into the icy depths like an utter fool? So that I might fill the air with my delightful voice?"

His ears twitched as he casually glanced away. “Better than dreary silence.Some folk might say thank you."

“Still it was reckless." She wagged a finger, tapping his onyx beak. “Stupid, thoughtless, you could have easily gotten yourself killed. You only increased the risk of both of us dying."

“And yet look how the gods repaid such recklessness. You're as stubborn as ever!"

“You can't apply dumb luck to the situation!"

“I certainly can." He chirped, looking rather proud of himself. He shifted over to the numerous logs, undoing their bindings and pressing one into the fire. He gave a happy trill as she glared at him. “For someone alive you're doing a lot of fussing about it. Dragons hate being alive do they? I mean, I don't judge if they do…just odd is all."

He had her again and he knew it. Curse that smile about him. “Thanks." She replied in a near whisper.

“What was that?" He leaned back, smile growing further across his beak. “I think I might have hurt my ears something awful."

She repeated it and he chirped happily, sitting tall with his back nearly straight, ears brushing the ceiling.

“I'd just accept the honest help lady. Let the ones doin the helpin weigh the choices."

She only weakly nodded, starring at this enigma of a being. So many things she wanted to say to him. How truly grateful she was. Thanks to him her journey hadn't been ended. She wasn't in the afterlife, and still had a chance. Or how flush her skin went as he looked at her with such affection. But all she could manage was a weakened. “Yes."

“Well good. After all this I can get back to changing the bandages. Don't need your pathetic talons trying to scratch away at them."

“How long was I out?" She rubbed her temples.

“Three days." He said, ears splaying. “Verge of death when I found ya. Looking much better now that you got some warmth back in your cheeks."

“And, where are we?"

“The wizard's hut." He held up a talon, waving away her questions. “He's currently out to get some reagents. His assistant filled me in. House recognized me, spent enough to let us in."

“Well curse the luck." It would appear her time was going to be delayed further. Her arms crossed as she glared at the fire. Course how could she complain? Mere days ago the journey was going to end. “All because of an infernal insect!"

“Don't try to look so happy. Might give people the wrong impression. Like you're chipper or something." He settled next to her bed, agile talons removing the bedding and exposing her bandages. “Don't give me that look." He rolled his eyes when gave him a sharpened look. “I've seen a naked human or two. Elves not that different. Besides, it's to heal you. Not for me to taking an extended gander at your lady bits." Without her protest he sliced away the bandages with a single drag of his talon.

The fresh air felt nice, leaving Ossai sighing and sinking into the soft bed. Maybe this wasn't going to be so…

“Oh, this is going to sting."

“Can't be worse than breaking my-“

The gryphon dunked a cloth in a clear liquid, padding at her crusted flesh. Like a volcano had erupted upon her skin everything was on fire.

“By the nine hells!" Her body spasmed, one hand forming like a claw to drag away at his scaly limbs. It was like someone had taken branding irons to each part of her stomach.

“I said it was going to sting!" Caring talons held her firm, ears splaying as she cursed and spat his name like a woman possessed. “Now don't go sayin things you don't mean!"

“But I do mean them! When I get to my rightful body you're going to pay for this gryphon!" She squirmed while pinned, gnashing her teeth. “Unending talks…..ahhhh….about…" A soothing cloth came next, dulling the flames to an uncomfortable heat. Panting in the air she glared at him, regaining what composure she could.

“I'll risk it. Though makes the mind wonder who went about tending to your wounds?"

He had a point, but she didn't let him win. “You're a brave gryphon to inflict such pain on me."

“I warned you!"

“You said it would sting! Not that it was going to light a fire!"

He snorted, thumping his tail on the ground. “Only brave when I have to force stubborn dragonesses to be healed. What would you have wanted? Infected wounds? Would have been squealing three times worse!

Their eyes met, flames sparked between them, and silence lingered as he maintained his grip. Sepharim looked down for only a moment, sighing and meeting her again. Guilt glittered in those yellow pools. “Ready for more?"

“Already?" She gasped, “I'll pluck your feathers to the last!"

“But then I'd have a nice coat of dragon scales." He shifted his talons, resting over another one of her bandages. He glanced back to her, a mournful look about him. He honestly didn't want to hurt her. “We have to do this. I'll try to be as gentle like as I can."

“No doubt another poker in my side. You have the hospitality of…a butcher."

He sighed. “If it sweetens the deal, I won't tell the other dragons about this. I'll tell them how stoic and cold you were. Hardly made a peep." He gave her a disarming smile that made her heart flutter.

“Just do it. “ She looked away, squeezing shut her eyes. As he said, the sensations repeated. Ossai hissed through the blinding pain that surged through her like a wildfire, but he held firm and held off her attempts to thrash in his caring, vice like grip. She sunk back into the pillows when he was done, voice all ragged and close to failing. Pain was swept away from her as he applied the soothing agent. She thanked him again with nearly a whisper, and again when he leaned his ear to her and asked her to repeat it.

“No problems." He cheerily chirped, ears twitching as she held his chin. Their eye met and her pain seemed to subside. Replaced with a warm fuzziness in the back of her head.

“No dragons would have done it. Least none I knew anyway."

“Now you're telling me I'm better than a dragon?" His feathers ruffled with a chirp. “They say flattery is the way to a woman's heart."

“Lets not get that started." Her head collapsed against a pillow, consciousness almost leaving her. “Whats to eat? I'm starving."

“Not to much…….. Had a stockpile of dried goods. I'd go hunting but I'd rather not leave you." He eyed her leg, wiggling his haunches. “For long."

His concern yet struck another chord with her. Resonating deep in her gut. So, she asked her questions. Though the wizard was out, he had a spirit assistant they conversed with. Its words seemed to run together, speaking with a thick accent she was not aware of. It was tight lipped where the magician had gone, simply insisting that it had been quite some time ago. When pressed further the spectral thing had uttered curses and taken an irritated tone. Words flowing with a punctuated hiss.

Ossai had sat in a silent fury at such a display. How could a person employ such a rude thing? Such a creation that would cause one's patience to wear so thin? The only thing this assistant gave her was time to heal.

“I'd go for a healer." Sepharim had glanced down, but she already knew why. His concern for her overrode the rest of it. She doubted he'd search even if she ordered it. Which also infuriated and made her heart swoon. Her first day to the waking world ended with a comforted sigh, the fire's warmth helping carry her to a restful sleep. One not plagued by images of her father or the lingering guilt of her actions. But instead with being held and pressed close against her feathery savior.

The next few days passed slowly granted she was confined to the bed. Her leg couldn't be walked on and it infuriated her to no end. Sepharim had been reluctant to leave her side, settling onto the floor when he wasn't busy with a soft coo. Like he was her stalwart guardian.

Most humans had fear within their hearts as they'd waited on her in the past. Even if she'd made it clear she would not eat them or flay them alive at the drop of her tail. But Sepharim was different. It might have been her unintimidating form, dulling the weakness of his heart, but part of her doubted that. Not with the devotion he showed. Answering any request quickly as he could, always checking on her to ensure her comfort was paramount.

The phrase. “I'm not a hatchling." Was passed around so often she thought it was going to become the only words that she would speak.

“For right now you are. When you can walk you can start being cross about the treatment." He'd return with a playful smirk, one she couldn't help but smile back at.

She'd read all the books in the cottage by the time her leg had started to heal, at least well enough for her to stumble from her bed like a freshly born horse. Sepharim had been swift to be at her side, her fingers finding his plumage to be an adequate grip to help her as shaking legs took every step.

His presence was more charming than she'd have thought. These passing personality growing on her. Often she'd be disappointed at his departure for wood or small provisions, and delight upon his return. When he would hum or trill it would now bring a smile to her face no matter the circumstance. This continued on for several more weaks until she was starting to regain strength in her weakened leg. In which he was of course there to help her as well. Dedicated as any knight.

“You got this." He'd wrap a wing tightly around her, guiding her shaking steps out the door into the snow. The cold was like a wounded wolf nipping at her leg and causing her joints to ache. She pulled the gryphon tight.

“Trying to steal my feathers already?" He'd rumbled with twitching ears, his playful jab carrying the warmth he'd been sharing of late.

“Keep me out here and I just might!" She smacked his neck, shifting as he walked as her brace back to the bed. Collapsing onto the sheets with a satisfied sigh, she found hisa beak landing right next to her, complimenting her on her speedy recovery. “Not that quick. I can hardly walk." Her nose wrinkled as he suggested why care about walking when one could fly. She reminded him she couldn't.

Sepharim wagged a wing inches above her eye.

“That doesn't count!"

“So." He rested his neck and head against her chest, “While I have you weak and can't resist me...tell me about your father."

She groaned as the gryphon's light weight and heat made her hands start to caress and scratch his neck. Comforting pleasure radiating from him. “Son of Bahamut, the first dragon."

He gasped. “Descended from the gods?" He chuckled as his eyelids drifted closed in time with her gentle ministrations. “Leave it to a dragon to come up with a grandiose backstory like that."

“But its true!" She weakly rested a hand between his ears, ruffling the feathers between them. “I must find out how I escaped my prison. And if my other siblings are doing so."

“Worried about meeting back up with your brother and sisters? Never hated mine that bad."

“They could bring about the destruction of this world!"

He just snorted. “Surely you jest."

Silence fell between them for only a moment as she rubbed the base of his ear. “Well at least you'd be bound beneath draconic claws. He was a very strong believer in our divine right to rule over the lesser races. He'd always go on in a brassy voice, insisting that things needed to be kept the way they were."

“Sounds like a jerk." Sepharim sighed, “Maybe your escape was a fluke? Or someone who made the orb was feeling generous."

“Your theory might have been good if I wasn't the one who made them." She was quick to nip that thought in the bud.

“Maybe when you weren't looking?"

How she wished that to be true. All this worry and concern chalked up to an act of kindness. Mercy finding her amidst the act of betrayal. Her next words came softly, almost lost to the gryphon's soothing chirps. “I hope so."

She hugged around his neck, burying her head in softness and warmth. He beat any pillow she had. She drifted off into pleased dreams. Ones filled with her flying high and Sepharim along right by her side. In the distance she saw thousands of dragons soaring in the vast sky. They zipped around one another like a school of fish, happy and trilling like gryphons. Her head tilted as they got closer, an image that truly left her confused.

Images of mortals riding atop of the backs of her people. Not in shackles or bridles like some sort of scaly horse, but together as partners. There were great warbles and roars of happiness as the scaly cloud grew, joined in with the cheers and happy shouts of those they shared their flight with. To her surprise she surged forward, and joined her joyous voice with their own.

* * * * * * * * * *

From frozen hills of shimmering snow and frozen lakes came the long-awaited coming of spring. Crisp air and bone cutting chills, caressed away by the warming earth and gentle breezes. Color burst from every inch once shrouded in all-encompassing white. Vibrant green leaves burst from blackened buds, flowers as red as the passing sun, or lavenders like the coming dusk, sometimes blues of the most enchanting sea, like tiny forests to be feasted upon by butterfly or bee. Animals rose from their winter slumber, frolicking foxes, ducks who danced through the air upon their wings, to the hump back of the camel moose. It's morning moo becoming a common occurrence to signal the coming day.

Ossai had returned almost to an air of normality, only needing the slightest assistance from her gryphon ward. His assuring chirps and her recovery would bring flush cheeks, warming heart, and butterfly's within her insides with each passing moment. When they were alone the time would slow, even in silence she could feel her need grow. His head would be laid upon her lap as her hands caressed his head to the sound of his pleased chirps. The entire time they saw no sign of dragons. Save perhaps one morning she thought she'd seen one of her kin soaring high above the mountains. Their silvery scales nearly blending perfectly with that morning's clouds as they darted towards the sun's golden halo. One fleeting moment amidst hundreds.

After she healed another month passed them by. Still without the wizard returning to his cottage. Questions started to tease at her mind, her quest whispering words of want and need. Like a caged animal it thrashed to be free. How much longer could she afford to stay here? She'd now wasted three months upon this place. Though yes, she'd enjoyed herself, she had to know. So she'd gathered her frustration and called for the wizard's spirit in a demanding tone.

“Spirit! Show yourself and tell me when your master will arrive. My time is not some noble's coin to be wasted. Nor my patience to be tested."

“And your constant whining won't conjure him sooner." The pale faced spirit appeared, looking very much like a ghost. Its near transparent lips curled into a smirk as her eyes narrowed and thrust daggers upon it. “You know, they say your face will stay like that. Course…That might be an improvement."

“Count the days." She hissed, her words dripping in ice. “When I return, I shall return for you. Then proceed to tear whatever spell that powers you asunder."

“Good luck with that knife ears. I won't hold my breath." It blinked away with a snap of it's fingers.

How utterly inferiaing. Without a hint of her burning fire waning she found Sepharim mere minutes later. The gryphon had taken to rolling around a bed of flowers, basking in the afternoon sun like some excited cat. He perked up to greet her with a smile, his cute ears practically bouncing. Without even thinking she returned it.

But she steeled herself, “We need to return and find a magister to question." She put her foot down. “I cannot spend my time lingering. Despite our journey being a fair one, your contact has not revealed themselves. I must stress upon you my need for my body."

“You're in an elven one." Sepharim had sat on his haunches, giving her a glance up and down. “Some might consider that lucky you have ample time to wait. Not so much if you were in a human one. Darn mayflys they seem like."

“Yet despite that luck." Each second I waste is another that something could be amiss. Doesn't that bother you for one second?"

“Lots of things happen. For instance, If you would go taking this here flower." He plucked a sunflower at the ring of his folded flowers. Without a hint of resistance from her he placed it within her hair. “You might go and fancy it."

Her cheeks flushed, even as she crossed her arms. Even through her haze he was still trying to make it difficult for her to be cross with him. “You're not taking this seriously."

“Lady, I take lots of things serious. This is one of those be patient times. Sides." He retreated, placing his haunches back to the ground with an amused chirp. It's a very long trip back. More so without wings. So unless you want to be heading off on your own…"

“I could make my way back. I'll let you know that I am most capable of defending myself." She pointed to her things by the cabin's door.

He clacked his beak, giving her a cross look. “If you're so keen on leaving then there would be the matter of my payment."

“Your friend hasn't shown themselves."

“If I recall…The deal was to bring you here…Not that the old man was here." He fluffed up his wings, putting on a sly smirk. “Call it an unfortunate circumstance."

She glared daggers at him as he started to stretch his body out like a cat. Like he knew she wasn't going to be going anywhere. “I doubt you'd let me get an hour from this place before your wings drag you to my side. You've a heroic quality that people don't often have."

She got an irritated squawk as he trotted around the field, “We could put that to the test. Could let you walk for quite the time. Till your legs grow all so tiresome." He turned back to her, eyes like steel as the breeze wafted along his fur. “And that doesn't exactly sound like the grateful person that had a gryphon fly them all the way here."

“Grateful?" She grit her teeth. “I paid you. That was your job."

He trotted over, clacking his beak. “And I could have left you right where you was. Right smack in that place crawling with magister folk."

“And you didn't." She met his gaze with her own, sliding ever closer with a finger held accusingly mere inches from his onyx beak. If she had to pry every feather for his reluctance she would. “Why if your fear was so great did you return to that town? To magister territory of all places." She laughed in her throat, a mocking tone. “If I'd known your bravery could waver at such a drop of the claw, I'd have reconsidered our arrangement."

“Lie plain as day" He mimicked her expression, his ears lighting up. Lady you didn't have much options to ya. Without these feathery wings you'd be dead." He admired one of his talons. “And to be honest I'm rather insulted you think I'm scared of them."

“Then if you're not scared of them. Why not return? Because where I'm standing it looks as if you're trembling as we speak." She thrust a finger to his onyx beak, not minding as his eyes locked onto her with a steel like quality.

He sighed, taking a deep breath before slipping away from their campfire, moving aside a few stones without a word. His muscles tensed; he kneaded the ground. For a flicker of a moment she thought he might take his leave of her. But he stopped, turned around and what remained of him was more chilling than a winter's day. He stared back at her with hallow eyes, ones that she knew far too well. Within them weighed the guilt of a thousand souls, ones she saw reflected in her own.

“Sometimes you start off fighting, you snarl, you give a roar of defiance. Hell, you flare your wings and rip apart anyone who dares try to hurt you or your own." His tail flicked casually behind him. “Then time passes, your beak and talons taste so much blood that it doesn't bother you none. The gurgled cry of your victims hardly makes you feel a thing." He squeezed his talons in and out. “But still they come. Unrelenting and forceful. Like the whole place took your defiance as a slight against them." His eyes drifted to the sky, gazing far out into the endless expanse. “All those miles, fights, deaths. And I've never actually left that place."

“The magisters?"

He nodded without a word. “Then you grow tired, everything goes duller than tarnished steel. I went back one last time." His feathers visible shivered, his ears twitching like mad. Silence fell between them as the air cooled.

Suicide? That was his plan? Despite the distance between them her heart throbbed. If he'd the courage to go through with it, her entire existence would have been in question.

“Well wasn't that utterly foolish of you." Her arms crossed, tongue as sharp as any sword.

“Excuse me?" He tilted his head. “That's your response to that?"

“Yup." She nodded, echoing his words when she'd spilled her guts. She watched as his ears perked up, almost baffled she'd taken that kind of tone. “Throwing your life away. Truly disrespectful to your friends."

“That was the plan anyway. Never said it was brave or nothing." He glanced away, head drooping as he paced several yards. Silence fell between them as she looked him up and down. Where once she saw the brave and stoic gryphon, she instead saw a rapidly shrinking and injured bird. Even his feathers seemed less white, more like a lie than anything else. When he glanced back to her his ears splayed, and a desperate plea left his beak. One that pulled tight upon her heartstrings. “Just don't go back to them. Promise you will do anything else. They'll just kill you like all the others. Or you'll wind up as one of their little puppets. You're much to special to have that happen to ya."

There was that concern for her again, mixed with that growing affection. Her fuzzy mind was making it harder to maintain her draconic demeanor. Course was concern more for her or himself? Redemption for what happened to his crew? Her heart guided her closer, but she kept her hand in check. Caressing his neck and offering kind words would undo what demand she wanted. Though when she spoke it came much softer, her fire nearly out. “I need my body back. Your wizard has a month before I leave. Cause clearly, he doesn't think highly of you. Or this is all a joke to him." Her demeanor broke as he met her eyes. How troubled and caring they appeared to be. Without warning her defiant arm snaked out, cupping at his chin. His brow rose with his ear, possibly perplexed with her actions.

He didn't reply, instead shying away. So, she asked him again but this time ever louder, pulling his attention onto her.“Agreed." He sighed, after taking a deep drag of the air.

Internally she sighed. Months had just been shaved off her potential plan. She scratched along his chin, fingers gliding through feathers and pulling out a soft coo. “Most excellent. For a fraction of a second I thought you'd let me actually return by myself."

“And let you get lost in the countryside? Couldn't stand that happening." He weakly smiled, clearly not totally 100 percent on the idea. That was fine though. He had time to think about it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Several weeks raced on by. Days and nights filled with each other's company. Even the wait for her body didn't seem so bad. Nor the problems with the orb. It was if they whisked away by the long nights, pleasing days, and the sinfully good sensation of caring feathers pressed close against her.

She'd watch his proud face, admiring the warm glow she found within it. She hadn't felt this content since dragons of her age. Not since long ago back when things were less hectic. Before the time of her father and Bahamut's crusade against one another. She could unwind with this one, lovingly tell tales of her spellcraft theories and ideas and he'd listen and off a more grounded approach. Not because he was being forced to, but out of genuine interest shining in his sunflower eyes.

Magic may not have come easily to him, but his honest interest was quite new. Not artificial like others of her house, plotting and weaving to gain the upper claw. No doubt to earn her father's favor. After all, if they could best his favored daughter they'd be deserving of rewards and the like he'd offer them. Or sire wrymlings to a blood line meant to rule.

Things dragons had fought tooth and claw over. Died over. All in a futile attempt for false power. For when her father came around, what you hung onto shifted to his. Defiance to that meant a demonstration, and that might end in dead. For his will was absolute and unbreakable. The first male that'd tried to win her favor hadn't impressed her father. He'd revealed his un_honorable_ plans. She'd been made to crack his skull open in front of the his family. Drive home that sort of idea had no place to his daughter. But this gryphon. Her father would have despised him.

One morning they'd come across a worn oak carriage, pulled by some white colored horses with black spots. The human merchant inside had been fairly polite with Sepharim when they inquired about his destination. Course that could have been because of the seven armed guards he'd kept around with him. Men in gleaming mail and thick padded gambesons. Guards with hardened eyes and tight jaws, like well trained attack dogs ready to spring. Much to their humor they'd learned they were only but a days flight from the cottage.

“What?" Sepharim had sheepishly paced away, ears splayed tight as she chastised him over not getting a healer. He'd issued his apology time and time again, always the defense being that he didn't want to leave her to go looking. How was he supposed to know a human village had been set up so close to the place. “They sprout up faster than weeds!"

His honesty and concern rubbed away the irritation though, enough for her to catch his jaw and silence his beak with her palm. So instead of further tongue lashed she'd scratched him, insisting that he make it up to her.

So, like that they'd flown to visit the town called Oakberg. Spending nearly all the coin Sepharim had on assorted foods and medicines to restock the cabin. She'd grown tired of simple meals and insisted they pick out some others, and spices to liven them up.They'd spent nearly the entire day gathering up supplies to stash away in his pouches till they were close to bursting. Of course, he couldn't resist trying to help some back water person. So she wasn't surprised when he asked if any jobs needed to be done.

The only trouble they found themselves in was in a tavern by the name of the laughing donkey. Ossai had been purchasing some bottles of wine. One muscle clad man with a scared chin had been bragging with his buddies about kobolds being sold into slavery. One that he'd helped and made quite the amount of coin off of. Sepharim had strutted over with a friendly smile, challenging the man to a game of horseshoes they were participating in. She thought at first he was trying to swindle the man out of his money. Instead the gryphon had sliced the man's coin purse from his side when he wasn't looking and slid it into Ossai's palm.

“Won't notice that till he's getting the next round." He whispered with a smile. Gesturing to the door. But the man's thirst must have risen, cause his hand rested on the gryphon's shoulder. “Quick drinker that one." Sepharim had spun round, knocking the man on his ass with an extended wing. They'd fleed with laughter in their throats, good cheer in their spirits, and the gryphon had never looked more handsome.

Back to a crackling fire they'd retired, watching the logs burn ever away, the ashes scattering upwards like little fireflies to a star speckled night sky. They'd leaned on one another, her hand on his chest as a scaly forelimb wrapped around her waist. They'd laughed away at the day's antics, sides splitting as they recalled the men's faces over their little trick. Her breaths were coming faster as they spoke in length, her cheeks already burning by the time he was fondly looking at her. The firelight twinkling in his eyes, the drink they'd had. Hands went to the back of his head, playing with his ears as he let out a softened coo.

“Ever hear that your fur looks rather fetching?" He chuckled sweetly, “Or was it your feathers?"

“No. Honestly I can say I haven't." She crept closer with reddened cheeks, her heart speeding up. He chirped a loving sound as her skin shivered in loving anticipation. The distance between them shortened as the air seem to fill with enchanting warmth. He nuzzled her, his eyes closed, she returned the gesture with a pleased sigh. She pulled him close, his face to her chest, hers to the top of his head. Tender strokes went down his along his feathery neck as they melted in each other's embrace. Her eyelids drifted downward as she enjoyed the passing moments, wishing they would never end. With tender care he rose away, but her fingers held onto his face. Their eyes met, a fondness found within those yellow pools that narrowed her world to him. Words failed her but she didn't need any.

A kiss.

A gesture that she'd seen mortals do. With horses galloping in her chest she pulled him closer, the only sound between them the shallowness of their excited breaths. She giggled as his crowns started to rise one by one. But right before they pressed beak to lips, the atmosphere was shattered. All by one question not asked by either one of them.

“Now what are you two doing near my house?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Thanks for checking this out, leave me some feedback down below. I'm trying to make this the best it can possibly be before I get it ready for the next book. So if you feel like I should have added things or taken some away let me know. Heck, tell me things you would have liked to know about Ossai and Sepharim!

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The NEXT part can be found here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1561919