FSE

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The two of us stride onwards, the sun setting behind us as we journey further east. Rays of crimson streak through the sky, painting the violet clouds with hues of fiery orange. The gaze of my silent companion is ever directed forward, though he glances at me once in a while, scanning me with his brilliant silver eyes. I'm not sure if he just doesn't trust me, or if he's making sure I haven't taken off.

He walks with purpose, but in comfort, while I can't help but peer into every shadow, curiously wondering if one of his compatriots is staring back at me. I keep my distance from him, out of habit more than anything. I don't sense any hostility from him as he escorts me eastwards and his body language shows that he doesn't see me as a threat.

We go in silence, the only sound in the darkening hills being our footfalls on the road. It's strange to me that the border is so unguarded, unless it's watched entirely by my stealthy guide and his friends.

It'll be pitch black out soon, I wonder when he will want to make camp. I'm willing to try and follow him through the night, but I would rather not be short of sleep when I meet the Serysians. Assuming he's taking me there in the first place.

Perhaps I've trusted him too quickly. The magic that he placed on me has faded, leaving me with little in the way of communication. I know nothing of the serpent language, and he seems to know barely any draconic. If this is a trap, I am walking straight into it. He didn't seem to intend on letting me go any farther alone, so I didn't have much choice.

Shadows creep over the land as the hours pass in relative peace. The edge of the sun peeks over the mountain range to the west of us before finally slinking down into darkness. Glowing softly, the waning moon sheds little light, the stars in the heavens obscured by cloudy skies. My eyes struggle to adjust to the night. My companion is nearly invisible now, with his ebon scales and garb. The only indication I have that he is still there are his eyes, silvery spheres piercing the darkness every time he turns to me.

I spend a short while stumbling about in near complete blackness, every step being slow and cautious, my hands at the ready in case something should cause me to stumble. I would create flares of fire to light the way, but I would prefer not to risk starting random blazes in Serysian lands. It might reflect poorly on me.

My reptilian companion seems to take notice of my struggles and slows to a halt, his scintillating eyes scanning the environment. He seems to spot something and waves me over, the motion almost imperceptible to my vision.

"Soruss. Uh... rehst." A foreign word, followed by a clumsy draconic one.

"Yeah, I get it." I gesture him onwards, and he leads me off the road and into darker, deeper shadows. Soon after, he stops and I tentatively feel my way around this new location, my hands meeting nothing but a face of cold stone. I guess this is our camping spot.

"Hmm. Ah... no laight." No... light? Yeah, that's for sure.

"I can handle it." I say in response. Reaching down, I feel around the ground, running my hands through the dry grass at my feet. Finding a suitable spot, I spend a few moments blindly tearing it out in large clumps, trying to clear out a space in the dirt while I pile the shorn blades together. Satisfied that I probably won't cause a brush fire, I double check the location of the tinder before taking a step back. With a flick of my wrist, a lance of fire streaks into it and the area is bathed in warm fiery light, mercifully revealing the immediate surroundings.

We've settled next to a large boulder, shaded by a couple thin trees behind it. Their gangly branches reach over the stone, stretching towards the blaze as if to warm themselves on it. Shadows dance on every surface, scattered and amplified by the licking flames.

The grass struggles to burn cleanly, the fire sputtering and struggling to remain alight. Tearing off a handful of twigs from the now-visible trees, I toss them onto the fire and watch as it crackles with renewed purpose. That should do, I will be asleep before it fades, so I shouldn't need to tend it.

The shadowy lizard simply watches me as I do all this, eyes showing subdued interest. His body blends into the flickering shadows, his gaze never straying from me. It's a little unnerving.

"Could you... stop staring?" I say aloud, aware of the futility of my words.

He continues to stare at me.

I sigh. "This would be easier if we spoke the same language."

He tilts his head, his curiosity aroused. "Se kaa?"

"Nevermind. Good night." I wave him away, yawning and plopping down on a patch of undisturbed grass.

I curl up and get comfortable, the seated figure of my companion visible from the corner of my eye. I make a show of falling asleep in front of him, my body limp and eyes apparently closed. He watches me for a few moments, but soon averts his gaze as I lie still, peering at him through faint slits in my barely opened eyelids. He stares into the fire for a long moment, the light of the flames struggling to reach his inky black scales. Every time the fire wavers, he seems to fade more into shadow. At long last, he shuts his eyes, the only light of his visage now fading to blackness. If I didn't know any better, I would think he was no longer there.

---

I reach a bend of the quiet brook just as the sun begins to arc downwards, the streaming waters breaking their path south to arch abruptly eastwards. The scattering of trees that line the brook offer some cover from the surrounding environment, shrouding any potential view from the nearby settlement.

It looks like I've come out far enough south to skirt the village completely. My path lies open, and I look southwards across the valley, scanning the horizon. The mountains ringing the central empire frame my view, the opening of the north serving as an imposing natural gateway. I can see the palace towers clearly, dark crimson and gleaming gold jutting up into the sky. I cast my gaze further west of the road, spying the large rock formation that I know to be the breeding caves.

Squinting, I try to bring my vision into focus. There looks to be a throng gathered around the base of the structure, though I cannot make out any more detail. There are countless dark holes, windows carved into the face of the stone. Every so often, a streak of orange blazes out from one, fading into the mass of dark figures on the outside. Responding in kind, several firey bolts issue forth from the throng, trading fire for fire but striking little more than solid rock.

Haste. I need to make haste! They're still fighting!

I leap into a sprint, straying from the path and taking a direct route towards the commotion. I fly over the grass, leaping over stray rocks as I go. Taking a lesson from Long Ren, I attempt to call forth a gust of wind to propel me forwards. Just like that and to my surprise, it becomes a reality. A stiff tailwind whips up and pushes me forwards, soaring alongside me and sending me nearly too fast for my legs to carry.

In a matter of short moments, the battle comes into clear view. The handful of entrances to the caves are sealed off at ground level, the dark openings obstructed with what appears to be shifted rock as well as various furniture to plug any gaps. Slender figures of an assortment of scale color pop out from the windows of the structure, flinging bolts of fire below before retreating to safety inside.

The host outside is large, easily numbering in the hundreds. Most are wearing the armor of the imperial guards, though some bear the colors of the eastern prefecture. A few sentries are watching the surroundings, and they spot me with little effort as I tear across the fields.

I hear them shout, the sound muffled under the whistling of the wind on my ears, but I have no intention of obeying. A group of guards furthest from the cave entrance move to intercept me, their weapons brandished. I rapidly approach them, intent on breaking through.

More shouts. 'Halt, stop, declare yourself'. I do not listen.

With a final lunge, I soar into the air, carried by my swift current of wind. I arc downwards from my shallow leap, diving into the group of soldiers. Flying in legs first, I plow into an unfortunate guard, sending us both tumbling to the ground. Clouds of loose earth are thrown into the air as I quickly right myself, my sword ringing out from its scabbard. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I might have little choice this time. No less than five guards approach me, weapons at the ready, backed up by a legion of their friends.

"I am sorry. I have business in the hatchery!" I say with urgency.

"Drop your weapon! Surrender, or be slain!"

"Do not force my hand!" A waste of breath, for both of us.

Two of the guards rush me in unison. Their wide-bladed polearms arc towards me with lethal intent. I am sharply focused; their movements appear slow and clumsy. I weave to one side, dodging a vertical slash, easily sending the second away with a sweep of my blade. The sound of metal striking metal clangs through the air. Twirling towards them with a flourish, I feint with my sword before leaning into a hard, arcing kick. Fooled by my misdirection, the attack slips through the soldier's guard, striking him square on the head.

I feel completely in control of the situation so far, predicting the second guard's spear stab long before he executes it. I bend my torso out of the way before elegantly stepping forward, lashing out and connecting with a strike of my pommel. My strikes are true and solid, both guards stunned by the assault, but still standing.

More guards rush me from the crowd, the gathering around the hatchery now fully alerted to my presence. With a determined flourish, I push the two dazed guards away and off their feet with twin gusts of wind before readying myself for the next wave. Bolts of flame are thrown at me, both from my immediate attackers and from the larger throng. I deflect each one in turn with quick, masterful movements of my hands, sending volleys of redirected fire to detonate into the nearby terrain.

In the precious few free seconds I have, I realize this is folly. I cannot take on the entire force myself, even as I thrum with a strange power and confidence. I have no time to ponder this as the guards reach me.

Sword and spear strike out at me, the other guards moving to surround me. Such weak, unenthusiastic attacks. I weave and lean away from each sluggish one, striking back in turn. I land a solid kick to the abdomen on one, sending him stumbling back as I whirl towards another, connecting the back of my fist to his head. Shining metal lunges at me from every angle, and as I evade and deflect each one I slowly begin to falter, the feeling of control melting away.

A group of soldiers have lined up at a distance, curved bows at the ready. The guards threatening me begin to back off, and a gruff order to ready arrows rings clear through the air. Panic sparks to life in my mind. An order to aim follows within seconds. Am I capable of shielding myself with wind? I would rather not find out.

In the split second of time I am afforded, I surge towards the nearest guard. Using my momentum, I slip under his defense and launch an elbow straight into his gut. Winding and nearly doubling him over, I whirl behind him and seize his neck, putting him between me and the archers.

"Forgive me." I whisper, unable to hide my remorse.

The whistling of arrows cuts through the air, feathered shafts impacting the ground all around me. Several sickening thumps sound, my temporary shield gurgling as blood foams in his mouth.

"I am sorry." I say to him, before tossing him to the ground as gently as I can, a triplet of arrows protruding from his abdomen.

Now I am completely surrounded, black armor forming an unbreakable draconian wall around me. The gleam of bare metal shines everywhere in the encapsulating ring. I am tense, and my eyes scan in vain for an advantage.

"Ren! Help!" I cry aloud, out of duress.

One of the soldiers, a higher ranking one judging from the more elaborate armor and insignia on the breast, sneers with contempt.

"The Divine Dragon cannot save you, traitor."

If only he knew.

The familiar presence of Long Ren flares to life within me, surging through my limbs. The feeling barely has a moment to settle before I am rushed from all sides. The world seems to slow around me, and with a startling realization I find that my body is still my own. Ren has not asserted himself, for what reason I cannot say. He remains silent, and the situation leaves me with no time to contemplate my emerging questions.

Flush with strength and celerity, I deal with each soldier as they approach me in turn. Flashbacks of the great hall in Hearth flicker in my mind as I go through the same motions that Ren did back then. Precise strikes, no hesitation. I dispatch the endless stream of foes with practiced efficiency, weaving magic and sword together and driving them before me, but never with killing intent. The movements come so natural to me, and I wonder if my pacifist leanings go against my inborn inclination towards combat. It has been some time since I have fully applied myself to a battle like this, but it is something you do not forget.

Clouds of deadly arrows soar towards me before being scattered to the winds with a mere thought. Each new attacker is accompanied by a barrage of flames from his companions. Their lancing blazes seem so weak, dispersed with a mere whirl of my hand.

"What is this? He is a demon!" A panicked soldier cries out, a quiver in his voice.

This power is exhilarating; I feel invincible, indomitable. However, fears of overexertion begin flaring up in my mind, memories of overwhelming fatigue coming to the fore. I feel my confidence wane as I reluctantly start to think of a solution, seeking a quick end to this conflict.

I cannot stop them all, not for long, and I refuse to kill them to serve that end. I must simply escape.

I gaze into a window on the hatchery walls, trying to gauge the distance. I sheathe my sword, taking a breath and briefly preparing myself. With large, sweeping movements of my arms, I cast great gouts of air towards the circle of hostility arrayed around me, forcing many on the front to the ground as the others stumble back. Dropping to a crouch, sharp winds swirl around me, rippling across the grass and whipping my robes viciously to and fro.

"Dragon, guide me." I mutter quietly to myself, wondering if the words are reaching Ren.

Springing upwards, I catapult into the air, leaving a sweeping vortex of dirt in my wake. I glance down momentarily, noting the surprise written on the faces of every soldier as I ascend skyward. Torrents of wind barrage my airborne form as I try to direct my jump, aiming for a window on the rapidly approaching cliff face. Bursts of fire sail upwards towards me, my shield of wind deflecting the few that were aimed true.

I sail towards my destination, but at dangerous speed and a precarious angle. Flashes of panicked fear and terror rip through me but I ignore them, my mind strained with intense focus, guiding my course with a swirl of mental will. The cliff is nearly upon me now.

"Rrrr, don't hit the wall, don't hit the wall." I repeat through gritted teeth. "Don't hit the-"

I wince and shut my eyes, crashing through the window. My legs catch on the bottom of the opening and I flip head over heels, upside down and disoriented, smashing into unseen objects with a loud, clattering ruckus. Sliding along the smooth stone floor, I come to rest face up, the ceiling spinning and twisting in my vision, aches and pains blossoming throughout my body. I feel Ren's presence pull away, the fatigue from the brief skirmish crushing down upon me. The exhaustion is not as powerful as it was after Hearth, but I still feel light-headed, struggling against the haze to maintain consciousness.

As I stare at the ceiling, faces come into focus, obstructing my view of the swirling stone. They peer over me with expressions of confusion and disbelief, mixed with distrust. One face in particular stands out. Her visage is so familiar, but it takes me a moment to recognize it.

"Zuro'ki?" she speaks in a soft voice, surprise etched on her face.

I struggle to respond, fading into a brief darkness, the words failing in my throat.

---

It's about time we reached some civilization.

I pass through the outskirts of a Serysian city, taking in the sights as I am ushered onwards by my shadowy guide. The elaborate designs reek of splendor, the opulent bronze domes and bulbs of each building gleaming in the pale morning sun. It is an alien place, built of a foreign sense of artistry. Nearly every section of a building bears a personal touch from the designer, with no two buildings looking the same. The style of each architect is intriguing, and I find myself appreciating the subtle aesthetics of each structure that I pass.

More striking than the buildings, though, are the people. Creatures of all forms and figures. Predominantly reptiles, but there is a scattering of strange, furred creatures too. Some with intricate patterns in their fur, others with big, wet noses, and still more with large pointed ears and fluffy tails. Don't they get hot, with such excess hair?

Each citizen we pass gives us barely more than a glance, noting my companion and I before continuing about their business. There are short, lithe reptiles, not unlike my guide, as well as larger ones, standing a head taller than me. Some look similar to myself, aside from the differences in snout shape and the fins, horns, or hair decorating their heads. Others look stranger, lacking legs at all, instead slithering by on a long, winding tail. Each one wears clothing and jewellry of various quality. The furred creatures and smaller lizards bear simpler designs, lighter clothes, while the larger serpents carry themselves with much more extravagance, glittering necklaces and shimmering, gold-trimmed cloth covering their bodies.

I gape at the surroundings, shamelessly staring at all that catches my eye. My dark friend pays no notice, leading me through the winding streets with only the occasional glance back, his emotions masked.

Soon, we come upon a wide, shallow stairway serving as the entryway to an intimidating, marble-carved structure. Gleaming white walls shine in the sun, the double doors leading inside decorated with gold and silver insignias. I am unfamiliar with the purpose of the building, but I assume, and hope, that it is a house of government, judging by my companion urging me inside.

The doors swing open, the entryway flanked by two legless serpent guards. Their gazes do not wander as I pass, their long tails coiled up beneath them, yellow slitted eyes staring ever forward.

The building is less imposing on the inside, and the hallway leading further in is stopped by another set of double doors, these with crimson banners draped down the sides. Sigils and glyphs adorn the red cloth, the meaning of which I cannot discern.

I glance behind me, finding another shrouded figure standing behind my companion. My guide sees his compatriot, acknowledging him before turning back to the unguarded door. As quickly as he appeared, the other figure is gone. As the door is pushed open, I am led inside and into a large, opulent office.

The design of the room is reminiscent of the offices of the imperial palace. Gleaming polished floors reflect the inhabitants with crystal clarity, as a mirror under our feet. Lattices of gold decorate most of the furniture, lending a feeling of importance, of extravagance and power, to the whole room. The interior walls span far enough to be very spacious, able to hold dozens of creatures in relative comfort.

Two figures come into view as I step inside. Sitting behind the polished white desk sits a legless serpent, his slender snout cut with lines of age and wisdom, tended scales still showing weathered cracks along the surface. The second stares out the long, bright window set on the left wall, curtains billowing in the breeze that swirls around him. He looks closer to a dragonkin, but his face is far from it. Small horns and ridges adorn his features, giving him a rough, rugged look, enhanced by the fact that he stands nearly a full head taller than me. His tail sways lazily behind him, the top of it edged with flat, triangular spikes and ending in a surprisingly featureless tip.

Both of them turn as I enter, their gazes fixated on me, scanning me and sizing me up. Short, muttered phrases of Serysian tongue are uttered between the two before the serpent behind the desk raises himself up. Using his tail for support, he pushes his upper body towards the ceiling and looks down upon me. He seems so much larger now, his winding tail is so long and muscular. His imposing presence dominates the room.

"Dragon." He begins, his svelte voice speaking familiar words, to my surprise, "As a formality, I must ask. Do you come with peaceful intent?"

I pause for a second, considering my answer. This is a chance to put forth a good impression, so I resist the urge to say the first thing to come to mind.

"My intent is not peaceful, but only my enemies will see my wrath."

The serpent grins, twin fangs flashing. "Boldly stated."

He lowers himself down, tail coiling underneath his body. He slithers past his desk and towards me, the reptile at the window following suit, his sharp brown eyes gazing at me with a mixture of respect and uncertainty.

"I am Khosrau Sirilrai. Khosrau is my title. I am the ruler of these lands."

"I am Lord Zerius, leader of the southern prefecture of the Divine Dragon Empire. Are you the lord of the Serysians?"

He laughs, aghast at the thought. "Heavens no. A Khosrau is but one of many. I lead this section of Serysia, yes. I have the cities of this land under my control. My fellow Khosrau lead their own sections across the waters."

I attempt to backpedal to avoid embarrassment. "I apologize, Khosrau Sirilrai, I know little of your kindred. Forgive my ignorance."

He chuckles softly, amused at my humility. "It is to be expected. You dragonkin are quite exclusionist. Perhaps we will see a change in that, soon."

The gruff voice of the other reptile chimes in. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Siril. You forgot to introduce me." He turns to me. "I am Viceroy Skandar. I am head of this fine city of Testral, but since Siril has set up shop here, I am left with little in the way of responsibilities and am permitted to see to my other pursuits."

His rough appearance hints at what those pursuits might be.

"We know why you are here." Sirilrai begins, gesturing to the shrouded guide standing obediently beside me, watching the exchange in silence. "Satu and his companions have observed the situation unfold in your lands for some time now."

Spies, then. That explains their strange abilities. Shadows with eyes are hard to spot and harder to uproot.

Satu chooses this moment to chime in, the silken language of the Serysians like music to my ears. "Khosrau, su set sen eclipse, serra?"

Sirilrai turns to him with an inquisitive expression. "Se kaa? Se tose, set sen umbra?"

Satu nods, a slow but confident motion. His eyes flick to me for a brief moment.

Sirilrai closes his eyes and nods in response. "Sat, serta." He turns to me. "Apologies. Satu speaks little draconic, as you have undoubtedly found out while he fetched you here. I do not mean to leave you out of the conversation, as it does concern you."

He slithers to the side, his arms folded. "But we will get to that shortly. For now, I will try not to mince words. We assume - or perhaps, already know - that you have come here to ask for help in your struggle against your wayward emperor."

I nod, an envious grin curving up one side of my face. "Your spies are quite effective, it seems."

Siril flashes his fangs yet again in a brief grin. "The Umbra are everywhere, and yet nowhere. You will perhaps know more of them in the future."

How cryptic. They might have plans for me already. I'm almost flattered. Though, I find myself respecting and admiring the Serysians more than I expected. They are elegant and refined, yet do not hold themselves in high regard over me, as a noble would a commoner in my society. Even in the palace, I saw the glimmer of disgust and disdain when people looked at me. They took great pains to hide it due to my station, but it was always there. Hidden underneath their falsehoods and facades. These Serysians do not see the difference in my scales. It is... refreshing.

Skandar interrupts as Siril begins to elaborate. "Stop getting off-topic, Khosrai. I am sure Lord Zerius would appreciate results, rather than any of your long-winded tangents."

His words are ones of insolence, but spoken teasingly, as one would to an old friend.

"Yes yes. Thank you for your input, Skandar." Siril waves a dismissive hand towards the rugged lizard.

The short, casual exchange between the two strikes me as very odd, but it serves to put me at ease. I struggle to maintain a neutral facade, hiding my smile at their playful interaction.

"As I was saying..." Siril shoots a purposeful glance at Skandar. "... we are prepared to offer you our aid. However, as you can imagine, it will come with certain conditions."

"I would expect nothing less. I am willing to hear them."

Siril inclines his head respectfully towards me. "We do not intend to use this as an excuse for a blatant land-grab, so please do not see it as such. Serysian society was created with, and prospers under, the unity of each member race within it."

I read into his words and jump to a conclusion. "So we are to become a client nation, under the Serysian banner?"

He quickly shakes his head. "No, nothing that grand. We merely wish to... test the waters. Allow us the privilege of aiding in governing your empire's eastern lands. They will still officially be a part of your de jure empire, but under our guiding hand."

He phrases it carefully, but what he is asking for sounds very close to partial annexation. Perhaps the citizens of the east would benefit more from Serysian rule, rather than the incompetent Tero'rui's. I suppose I have little choice regardless. Still, I better not play too easy-to-get.

"I respect your offer, but I am skeptical of the implications."

Before I can continue, Siril interjects. "We only offer you our services. If your people take poorly to our direction and assistance, we will withdraw."

How generous. I wonder if they would hold themselves to that.

Siril continues. "As a gesture of good faith, we are prepared to offer you, personally, a spectacular gift, and a great honor."

My brow rises with curosity. "Oh?"

"Indeed, Satu himself wields it, and was the one to suggest it. Of course, you do not have to accept it if you do not want it."

"A gift, then? What kind of gift?"

Siril's eyes glimmer with pride and intrigue. "A gift, and an honor. By the power invested in me as Setting Shore Khosrau, I hereby offer you the opportunity to receive the ink of the eclipse, and become an honorary member of the Umbra."

Truly? They would accept me in their network of spies just like that? I am stunned, taking a moment to process this unprecedented turn of events. Would it be rude to refuse it? Is it the ink that grants them their shadowy powers? Would I really gain them for myself?

I hesitate, and after a moment, Skandar speaks. "You need not make the decision now. Rest in the city, and deliberate over what we have said."

Siril nods enthusiastically. "Yes, make yourself at home in Testral. I am sure Skandar would be happy to show you around. He has few responsibilities with me here, as he said."

Skandar flashes an indignant grin at Siril before turning back to me, grin widening into a smile. "I suppose so. If you would like, Lord Zerius?"

Zuro'ki may not appreciate inaction at this point, but I do wish to reflect on this short discussion and the offers that have been made. I am also interested in experiencing the culture of these people more thoroughly, as the first impression has left me with a nagging desire to see more.

I gesture towards the door. "Lead the way, Viceroy."

"I do not like such stuffy titles. Skandar will do."

I grin at him, feeling a growing admiration despite myself. "Alright then, Skandar."

Siril slithers back behind his desk. "Have fun, you two."

---

My eyes fly open, though still burdened by the powerful weight of fatigue. I have only been unconscious a short while, the aches and weariness of my body evidence of the absence of true rest.

I struggle to gain my bearings, glancing around the cave that I have found myself in. I try to move my body, only to have the bed underneath me protest at my ineffectual motions. My hands are bound behind me, further bound by a rope wrapped around my chest, affixed to the very bed that I lie on.

Panic begins to set in, but I am approached by a familiar face. The same one I saw before.

"Zuro'ki. What are you doing here?"

"Mother, I... I've come to help." My words come so quietly, I can barely hear them.

Her face comes into greater focus as she approaches me, a sad, yet hopeful look on her face. Cerulean scales grace her body, fading into the typical white of her bellyscales. Her pale silver eyes glow with an indescribable longing.

We are interrupted as another walks into the room. Deep emerald scales appear in my peripheral vision, a snout wearing a severe expression coming into view before me.

"Explain yourself, male." She snaps, "Why are you here? To destroy us, like your brethren outside?"

I scan her expression, sensing her obvious hostility, but seeing the glimmer of hope behind it.

The azure female speaks with haste, trying to diffuse any hostile intent. "He is Zuro'ki. My son, Trela'zeo. He means us no harm."

I interject, my voice shaky and weak. "Trela'zeo? Are you Rel'zeo's sister?"

The emerald one leans closer to me, her expression softening. "Zuro'ki." Her eyes grow distant as she recalls an old memory. "Oh. It's you. I remember you now. You were innocent back then, in the chambers of my father. I wonder if you are as innocent now as you were in your youth."

"I wish to assis- ugh." My words die in my throat as I am wracked by a wave of fatigue, my head sent into a spin.

"Zuro'ki... you look so very tired. Please, Trela, allow me to unbind him. He fought against the soldiers out there, he does not deserve our mistrust."

The emerald female grunts in derision, glancing between me and my azure mother.

"Very well, out of respect of his efforts against our besiegers. But it is on your head, Saral'ki, should he prove troublesome."

I see nothing more, a numbing blackness running over my eyes and sending me to a fitful sleep.

---

Skandar spares little effort in showing me the sights and sounds of the city of Testral. The people, seeing me accompany the Viceroy, are very polite and courteous. Even behind their smiles, I see a great respect for the coarse-scaled reptile serving as my chaperon.

The interior of the city holds a stark contrast to the bleak terrain surrounding it. Everything is well-tended and clean, with Skandar showing me to an array of different parks and gardens, each radiating painstakingly crafted beauty. Intricate fountains send sparkling water through the air, my nostrils filling with the pleasant scent of the colorful flowers arrayed in neat patterns.

During my tour, I sample the local cuisine, following Skandar's recommendations. I am served a heavy stew, diced vegetables and meat mixed together in a translucent broth. The taste is exquisite, each flavor serving to complement each other, becoming more than the sum of their parts. I devour it with gusto, perhaps forgetting my manners in the process. Skandar just chuckles at me. The afterglow of the meal sticks with me for the rest of the day.

Time seems to fly as I am shown nearly every inch of the city. As the sun begins its final descent downwards, Skandar escorts me into a moderately sized and modestly decorated building, nondescript except for the striking golden sigil on the door. By the way he moves, and the jovial sound to his voice, it seems he's been waiting for the chance to bring me here.

Stepping into the structure, my senses are assaulted by a thin but heady smoke. I wince, expecting to choke, but the mist does no noticeable harm. Instead, I feel it flow through me, my head becoming lighter, my body tingling from the sensation.

Skandar eyes me with a grin as he leads me into the main room of the house. Smoke trails from the ornate glass bulb placed in the center, lending the room a light haze. Comfortable pillows and cushions of many sizes are arrayed all around the room, some bundled up for lounging, others laying flat on the carpeted floor.

A few creatures are sitting in the room as we enter, each gaze wandering up to us, looking surprised upon seeing Skandar. I have a hard time making out their features in detail from the low light of the room.

The nearest one, a legless serpent with a large, flared hood, speaks with what sounds like pleasant wonder. "Sses ssutas, Skandar. Ses sen serat. Tose ssesas sutas?"

Skandar nods, sending a glance my way. "Sat. Su ses sen sesas?"

The serpent nods enthusiastically, gesturing to the bulb in the center. "Sat sat!"

Skandar chuckles gently, approaching the bulb. Attached to it is a long cord with a metal tip, which he takes up and presses into my hands.

"Take a deep breath through that." He grins with anticipation.

I tremble with uncertainty. "What... what will it do?"

"You'll see. Don't be afraid."

Still uncertain but with no room for fear in my heart among these people, I raise the metal tip to my mouth. Faint wisps of smoke trail from it. I guess I'm supposed inhale the smoke.

Every eye in the room is upon me and I swallow my reservations. Exhaling, I slide the tip past my lips before taking a deep breath through it. The cord isn't very thick, and the air comes slowly. I feel the smoke gather in my lungs as they expand and fill.

"Now hold it, for just a moment." Skandar eyes me with playful curiosity, the expression strange on his rugged snout.

I oblige, pulling the cord away and holding my breath. The smoke itches inside me, and I falter within only a few seconds, my lungs unceremoniously ejecting the foreign air in a fit of violent coughing. Clouds of smoke billow from my mouth and I nearly drop the cord.

Skandar seizes it from me, watching me carefully as I choke and cough out each particle of the strange substance. After a moment, I regain my composure, the flavor of the smoke now registering in my body. It is a light, fruity taste, yet it overpowers everything else. I look around the room, trying to discern my reaction to the substance.

"I don't feel any... oh."

The reaction is nearly immediate, giving me only a few seconds of doubt. A deep relaxation pours over me, along with a warmth that penetrates into my very soul. The world loses focus around me, every color blossoming into blurred saturation.

"Skandar, I... haahaa." I cannot help but exhale with fascination, a wide smile etched on my face. The warmth in my body seems to linger and focus inbetween my legs. Before I know it, a powerful arousal begins to take over, clouding my thoughts. I am aware of my hindered judgement, but I don't care. All I know now - all my brain can comprehend, is that I want to sate these newfound urges.

My vision sways over to Skandar as he takes his own hit from the cord. Blowing out the smoke with casual indifference, he stares at me.

"What do you think, Lord Zerius?"

Perverted thoughts assault my mind, and I give into them without a care in the world. My hands rise up, gliding over Skandar's rough, scaly chest. It is as if the limbs have a mind of their own, no longer feeling part of my body.

"By the... Dragon... Sskandaar." My words are slurred, spoken in surprise and lust.

I can hardly recall what happened after. I was too overcome by the strange aphrodisiac. The next memory comes as I am bent over a pile of cushions, Skandar pounding me with his long tapered shaft as I writhe and quiver, drowning in pleasure and bliss. I hear moans of pure ecstasy, and it takes a moment to realize they are my own. Jets of seed pour forth from my own member as I am rocked thoroughly, by my first orgasm of many and also by the rapid thrusting of Skandar against my rear.

He embeds himself into me, roaring in pleasure with each spurt of reptilian cum that he shoots inside my tailhole.

Soon I find myself with a new partner. The hooded serpent slides up to me, my eyes immediately drawn to the twin, forking spears of flesh that protrude from below his waistline. He bends his body, wrapping a length of his tail around me and edging me closer. He pushes his twin members towards my face before leaning down, our heads inches away from the warm pink flesh. Shrouded by his wide hood, he looks at me with a suggestive expression, and I know exactly what he wants me to do. Taking one of his organs into my hand, I press it into my mouth, slathering it with my tongue and coating it with saliva. He quickly takes the second into his own, and I hear him groan and purr in response to our combined fellatio, his tail writhing softly underneath me.

As we enthusiastically work on the slender double-cock, I feel another pleasant invasion of my rear. I glance down, seeing the tip of the serpent's tail slide easily into my entrance, Skandar's seed still oozing out of the depths. Reserves of pleasure ignite within me, and I tremble with renewed desire. A lustful gasp slips out and I lick and play with the organ in my mouth with increasing effort. The appendage in my rear slinks further inside me, stretching me ever wider and filling me up beyond anything I have ever felt.

My free hand drifts down to my crimson dragon-hood, stroking it furiously to bring about another wave of thrilling release. Abruptly, my serpent partner tenses, his tail thrusting deep inside me as his dual members twitch and throb. Creamy fluid spits from the tip of his snake cock, filling my mouth with a slick, mucousy warmth. I drink it in eagerly, every throb dripping with more precious, delicious seed. Mere inches from me, I see his face contort in pleasure as he simultaneously erupts in his own mouth, his eyes glazed over with bliss.

I am pushed over the edge by the appendage being forced deeper and deeper inside me, the sensation exploding into release as I stroke myself to completion. I cry out shamelessly, ribbons of white shooting from my cock, drenching my hands in a sticky coating.

Withdrawing his tail, the serpent glides away, his flat, wedged snout wearing a wide grin. I am given a moment to observe my surroundings as the intensity of the smoke-drug hits a lucid low point. It looks as though more have joined us after Skandar and I began. Snakes, reptiles, and a couple furred ones explore each others bodies, female and males alike writhing and thrusting, lost in a sea of unending lust and unfathomable pleasure. I stare in abject fascination at the whole scene.

My observations are cut short as a figure steps in front of me. It takes me only a second to recognize him despite his lack of clothes. His dark scales and silver eyes are all I need to see.

Satu saunters over to a nearby pile of pillows, smoke curling from his grinning mouth as he eyes me with interest. He eases himself over the soft mound, spreading his legs and lifting his tail, his slim member dangling between his legs. I need no other invitation.

I stride up behind him, taking position and pressing the tip of my member against his puckering hole. Someone else steps behind me, a soft, fuzzy hand being placed on my shoulder and another pushing my tail up. I glance behind, my snout meeting a warm muzzle and lapping tongue. I feel him press his own member against my entrance, the spade-like tip sliding in with ease. I have no time to discern his appearance as he thrusts into me, causing me to thrust inside Satu in turn. My moist, slickened member glides easily past his outer ring, embedding itself deeply inside the diminutive figure's bowels. I hear him moaning in response, reactively clenching against my invasive flesh.

We ease into a stuttering, jumbled rhythm. All three of us moan and groan in unison, the fuzzy one behind me turning his grunts into low growls. Every time he thrusts into me, I feel his length end at a mass of flesh, every pump forcing it more and more against my stretched tailhole.

My ebon scales slap against Satu's own, my thrusts long and measured, meant to drive myself forward into Satu, and then back onto the stranger behind me. Satu moans and writhes underneath me, his hands reaching and grasping anything in reach. Our collective motions rise in intensity, the ever present knot veering dangerously close to slipping inside me. My mounting partners growls rise in pitch, his shaft hammering against my insides. I feel his hot breath on my neck, his rapid breathing and punctuated by shaky growls and grunts. I hasten my own movements, feeling the finish draw near.

With a long whine, the furred one behind me plows powerfully into my hole, my tail sandwiched between our bodies, the tip draping over his shoulder. My breath catches in my throat, and I choke out a grunt of surprise. He presses his furry chest against my back, the soft hairs pleasant on my exposed scales. After a few short seconds of rocking it against me, the mass of flesh slips inside me, my insides clamping down on the oversized intruder. I silently thank the serpent for stretching me first, my insides filling with more hot seed. I am driven rapidly over the threshold from the strange, uncomfortable, but not unpleasant, sensation of the knot.

I slam into Satu, our hips locking together as I feel myself throb over and over, spraying my essence inside him. He quivers and twitches, moaning all the while, assaulted by his own orgasm.

We spend a moment catching our breath, rocking against each other to milk out the last drops. With a few urgent tugs, the canine pulls his knot from me, my sphincter reeling from the experience. My breath comes in ragged gasps, exhaustion rapidly setting in. The drug is beginning to wear off, leaving me with an all-encompassing sluggishness. I step away from Satu, my softening member slipping out from inside him, and he watches me with concern as I stumble about, trying to find a place to sit.

He springs up, guiding me to an isolated corner of the room. Propping up a few stray pillows, he gently guides me down, resting my head against the soft fabric.

"Thanks... Satu." I whisper.

He nods at me, smiling. "Sorus."

"Yeah, rest. I'll do that..."

I can say no more, the scattered sounds of mating in the room fading to silence as I drift off to dreamless sleep.

---

"Why have you been silent?"

I stare at the figure in front of me, my consciousness floating in a misty, formless dream. The familiar manifestation of Long Ren. As always, it appears as a reflection of myself, enhanced with divine aesthetics and features. His back is turned to me, radiant wings obscuring his figure.

"I am sorry, Zuro'ki. I have been preoccupied." His voice is distant, somber.

I ask the obvious question, "What is wrong?"

A moment of silence passes as Ren considers his words. I am about to press further when he speaks.

"My counterpart, the shard of essence Shen harbours. He does... unspeakable things. I cannot affect it, I can only watch. I lament it." He sighs, the sound seeming to echo solemnly through the dreamworld.

I shrug, the motion strange in this esoteric realm. "I am not surprised, but this cannot be the first time you have taken notice. What has he done that has disturbed you so?"

"Not me. I fear it will disturb you."

His words cut to my core. Fear bubbles in the pit my stomach.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I apologize. I can say no more."

"No, you cannot dismiss this. What do you mean?"

My body stirs from my rising agitation, the dreamworld losing focus.

"Tell me, Ren! Please!"

"I am sorry, Zuro'ki."

As the realm fades around me, I watch as Ren turns towards me, his eyes a reflection of regret and sorrow. In them, I see myself, the same tragic emotions wrought on my face.