A/N: Hello friends! This was initially the first chapter to a fic that I was tentatively planning out, but I got stuck with my other fic and I decided to finish this chapter and upload it anyway. I got really excited writing it and I plan to continue it for a decent amount of time, but I still want to finish my other fic before seriously committing to this one, so I'm not sure what the update times are going to be like.

I apologize in advance :c

Anyways! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, and I hope you have fun reading it :] Enjoy!

"Sir."

The quiet whisper carried clearly over the still morning air, and there was a muted shuffling in response as the man being addressed moved to the source of the voice. The soldier who spoke was hunched close to the ground, cradling a broken, red-streaked fern in his hands, proceeding to tilt his shoulder backwards so that the approaching man could see the ruined plant. He crouched next to him, his armor clinking quietly.

"It's injured."

The crouching man rubbed a hand across his chin, tracing over a layer of scrubby stubble, his lips almost pulling into a smile.

"It should be that much easier to track it. Any thoughts on what else is hunting it down? The injuries seem quite serious."

His partner laid the fern back on the ground, shrugging and standing up.

"Not a clue. But it's apparently more successful than we are, isn't it, Jarvan?"

Jarvan's lips finally cracked into that smile, but he didn't stand up right away; he traced over the surrounding foliage with his eyes, noting where the forest seemed unperturbed and where it seemed as broken as the spot in front of him. He followed the path of destroyed greenery, frowning at the increasing amount of blood that spattered the ground. He and his company hadn't seen the dragon for a few days, at least; whatever was tracking it down put his group to shame, seeing as they'd been following it for weeks and had yet to get anywhere near scratching its shiny hide. Jarvan continued along the ruined path until a slight gleam in the ground caught his eye, and he crouched lower, picking the small object up with gloved fingers. He held it close to his eyes, feeling the beginnings of another smile.

"Renee."

The woman he called broke away from the group travelling with Jarvan, the furs draped around her shoulders rustling as she kneeled next to him. Aside from being one of their best trackers and soldiers to boot, Renee was one of Demacia's most promising biologists, and Jarvan held the item still pinched between his fingers out to her, dropping it in her palm and waiting for her to examine it. She turned the amber colored scale over in her hands, running a finger along one of the sharper sides and shrugging her shoulders.

"It's a dragon's scale."

Jarvan nodded, his initial thoughts confirmed. He waited one more moment for her to finish her thought.

"But…"

Jarvan smiled when a frown crossed her face, and he finished the sentence for her in his excitement, the fire colored gleam of the scale matching the spark in his eyes.

"But our beast is blue."

He picked the scale from Renee's palm, clapping her on the shoulder and returning with her to the rest of the group. Everyone naturally gathered around, the smile stretched across Jarvan's face spreading to them. To someone else, stumbling upon a dragon would most likely not seem like a good thing; finding two would seem extraordinarily unfortunate, but to Jarvan, it was exactly why he even bothered going beyond the Great Barrier. What better way to serve his self-imposed penance than hunting the most fearsome beasts to stalk Valoran?

"There's more to this game yet."

Shyvana overslept.

She hastily swept dirt and stray leaves over the remains of her camp, her agitation making her movements sloppy. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but the thought of her prey escaping her filled her with an anger that made her limbs shake. The dragon she was hunting- the dragon who murdered her father- was getting farther and farther north the longer she spent sleeping and wasting her time.

She needed to move.

She stopped only shortly by the river she'd been following to drink and to wash away the earth that clung stubbornly to her skin, ignoring the hollow rumbling in her stomach and reminding herself that it was no new thing to forgo a meal or two; the task at hand was infinitely more important. Shyvana ran her dripping fingers through her snarled hair, doing her best to smooth out the impossible tangles and tying it back in a simple braid that fell the length of her back. She retied the straps of her fur vest and the straps that ran down the sides of her leather pants, and then left the bank of the river in search of the trail the murderer had left.

As injured as he was, it was all too easy to follow.

The blood spattered forest reeked to her, and the drake had clumsy footing; his steps were clearly telegraphed by crushed plants and ruined trees, and Shyvana's earlier panic subsided somewhat. It was clear enough from the trail he'd been leaving through the night that his injuries were getting worse, not better, and if she was to make a guess she would say that his progress was significantly slower. She tread carefully in the forest to the right of the trail, keeping her eyes trained on the surrounding greenery, listening for anything that might sound strange in the morning air. As usual, it was nearly silent. Most of the beasts that would cause Shyvana any worry were asleep or very, very far away from where she was now, and it was easy for her to let her sleepless nights steal away her caution. In her complacency, her sharp vigilance began to slacken after only a few hours of following the trail, and the rage that usually kept her going began to wane while her exhaustion grew. Shyvana's steps fell slower and softer to the earth, and once again her stomach reminded her of how badly she'd been neglecting her own personal care.

Such was her fatigue that when she passed the poorly concealed camp of several travel-weary humans she paid it no attention, and when some time later there was a loud snap in the forest around the drake's trail, she barely even lifted her head. But even as oblivious as she was to the less obvious signs, humans had a sharp, distinct smell, and they made the grave mistake of standing upwind from her. Shyvana had only ever known one human, and to smell so many so far from where they were supposed to live quickly jerked her from her sleepy stupor. She stopped moving to listen carefully, but it appeared that they were at least smart enough to continue moving in an effort to stay ahead of her on the trail. Shyvana debated with herself as quickly as she could, scanning the forest and still standing as motionless as possible.

She should turn around.

She didn't know how many humans there were or even exactly where they were, and although she knew from painful experience how frail they tended to be, she wasn't eager to find them. On the other hand, the smell was coming right from the drake's trail; if she didn't know any better, she would say that the humans weren't lost and almost seemed to be following the same path as she was. Shyvana's hands tightened into fists as her self-preservation warred with vengeance, and her frustration grew the longer it took for her to settle on an answer. She, more than anything, wanted to continue, but she knew that if her father was alive he would most certainly forbid it.

But he wasn't here, was he?

The cruel dragon had murdered him right in front of her, and if she didn't find him, she would have nothing. Shyvana's face drew into an almost predatory frown, and she continued down the path, quietly and carefully, but more determined than ever, the stench of the humans growing all the more pungent. By now, she was almost glad; she did not smile, but Shyvana wanted to meet the humans that dared interfere with her directive.

She would not let them stand in her way.

Dex walked one last lap around the miniscule clearing, stoking the smoldering remains of a camp fire and sending another, fresh plume of smoke into the sky, and let the cloth he held loosely in his fingers fall to the ground. He paused one moment, analyzing the scene with a frown before casually kicking a handful of dirt over the torn shirt, and then smiling with satisfaction. He quickly jogged out of the clearing, to where Jarvan and what remained of the group were waiting beyond the tree line. He was listening to whatever Renee was saying about dragons, most of it information she had repeated several times since that morning. He gave Jarvan a thumbs up when he lifted his head, and the man smiled.

"All set?"

Dex nodded, waving his hand behind him.

"If it's still following the other drake, it should pass through here. There's no reason for it to stop taking the same trail as us now."

Jarvan rubbed his hand across his chin, the telltale sign that he was carefully considering the information presented to him. Eventually he dropped his hand and replaced it with a smile, nudging Dex with his elbow and calling the rest of the small group to attention.

"If it's anything like that other dragon, we've got to be careful."

His serious tone fell heavily on everyone assembled, but after only a few seconds his smile was back, although much more dangerous and determined than before.

"The hunt is on."

Shyvana followed the scent trail for hours, until the forest was threatening to lose the light and the painful clenching of her stomach began to dull. She pressed forward, nearly desensitized to the smell of the humans and beginning to think that it would benefit her more to set camp for the night and find something to eat than to follow the path into the night. Shyvana deviated from the path, moving more towards the small river to find a place to set up her camp. She pushed through the thick foliage and onto the waterfront, squatting on the muddy banks and leaning over the water, quickly scrubbing her hands clean so she could bring handfuls of water to her mouth. The cold water helped clear away some of the weariness that fogged her mind, but exacerbated the clawing hunger in her stomach, and Shyvana flicked her fingers at the river, turning away in frustration. It was then that she smelled it.

Smoke.

It was just the faintest whiff on a passing breeze, but it was, unsurprisingly, coming from the direction that she had been walking in earlier- towards the humans. Shyvana left the riverside, her hunger forgotten in a moment of excitement. It was a small campfire, for sure; small campfires meant a small group of humans, and Shyvana smiled just slightly to herself as she continued quietly down the trail. She would deal with the humans when she found them, and in the morning, she would find the murderous drake and avenge her father.

It would be easy.

The man to Jarvan's right sucked in a quiet breath, and when met with his answering glance, quickly decided that sneezing was not in his best interest. Jarvan couldn't allow their cover to be blown now; they could only just hear the quiet steps of an approaching creature, and if anyone so much as half-sneezed, they would scare it off. Jarvan listened to the near silent footfalls, surprised at how different they seemed from the lumbering steps of the other drake. It was possible it was a different animal, but given how he could hear it at all and that it was following the same trail it had been for the last day, Jarvan was tempted to think not. His excitement grew as the steps drew closer, and the whole group seemed to collectively hold their breath as the drake took its first step into the clearing.

Well, Jarvan had been wrong before.

The creature creeping tentatively into the clearing was certainly not a dragon, decked with the curves that indicated it was a woman, covered in thin leathers and small furs. If Jarvan had to guess, she was very nearly his own lofty height, and the longer he stared the more he realized that although she was no drake, she was far from human. Her skin was a deep blue-purple hue that reminded him almost of a painful bruise, only more muted and pleasant to look at. She had wild dark hair that, for the most part, was tied in a braid down her back, or falling in tendrils around her face. And even from the distance he was at, Jarvan could see that through the generous gaps in her clothing the strangely purple skin was covered in patches of amber scales at the backs of her forearms, the sides of her thighs, the tips of her shoulders. Jarvan slowly opened the fist at his side, glancing at the fiery scale he'd been hanging on to since he found it. His eyes dashed quickly between them, and the longer he looked the more he was absolutely certain that the scale belonged to her.

What was going on?

Jarvan didn't have time to give any of his company an order before someone behind him slipped, thudding quietly against the ground and uttering a soft curse. Jarvan flinched, and sure enough the woman that had been carefully inspecting the clearing jerked her head around, slipping into a half crouch and bringing her hands to chest level. Jarvan was already moving, and before she could bolt from the clearing he stepped into it, raising one hand to get her attention and coming to an abrupt stop when he saw the movement only served to startle her further.

"Wait!"

The shout was almost breathless, and although she was practically mid dash, the girl's muscles froze, her wide-eyed stare fixating on Jarvan's face.

Nobody moved.

Both Jarvan and the woman standing across the clearing were breathing heavily, the chill air making each sharp breath almost painful. Jarvan wasn't sure how much longer she would stand there before taking off, and he spoke before she could move.

"We're sorry for startling you, we were just-"

He stopped mid-sentence when something obvious occurred to him, and he laughed in muted chagrin.

"You don't even understand me, do you?"

It should have occurred to him sooner that anyone he met south of the Great Barrier definitely didn't speak the common tongue, and certainly not someone he wasn't even sure was human. The hand he had been holding up dropped to his side, and he turned halfway to his company, who were currently beginning to step through the beginnings of the tree line.

"Quietly. We're apparently mistaken- she's certainly not the dragon we were hoping fo-"

A voice rang out over the clearing then, throaty and demanding and cutting off the rest of what Jarvan was about to say.

"I understand."

Jarvan slowly turned back around, following his group's stares to the woman who was no longer crouched mid-flight but standing tall and proud, her mouth set in a furiously straight line. For the first time, Jarvan's eyes locked with hers, and he said nothing in response while they stared each other down. Her eyes reminded him of the campfires he's become so familiar with; so bright and alive, the orangey hue glinting clear and bright, and cut only by pupils that were more reptilian than human. No, not campfires; her eyes were not soft and calm, they were dangerous and piercing, their brightness more threatening than soothing.

They were wildfires.

Jarvan waited until he was sure that his entire group was standing behind him, the assumption reinforced when the woman's hands tightened into fists, her eyes shifting nervously beyond him. He spoke then, slowly and quietly despite what she had just said.

"We thought you were a dragon."

Saying it out loud with the girl standing in front of him, Jarvan felt more than a little foolish, and one of the men behind him laughed nervously.

"I am."

Another uncomfortable silence filled the air, but before Jarvan could break it, she spoke again in way of explanation.

"Half. I am a half-dragon."

It didn't do much to clear up Jarvan's confusion, or anyone else's, for that matter; a half-dragon is something he'd never heard of, let alone witnessed, but the woman was strange enough that he didn't doubt the statement for a moment. Her shoulders slumped as if what she told them was a shameful confession, and she averted her gaze. While Jarvan tried to think of what could possibly be his next move, the half-dragon's stomach rumbled rather loudly, and one of her clenched hands twitched unconsciously towards it before she pulled it quickly back to her side.

"We were about to set up camp."

Jarvan began, gesturing behind him.

"Come with us. At least to eat."

He couldn't begin to guess the reactions of his group, but for the moment, he didn't care- he was focused only on the narrowed gaze that had returned to his face, that stoically searched his expression. She took her time answering, and Jarvan was almost considering that maybe she didn't understand when she finally replied.

"I accept."

Jarvan smiled, continuing to avoid looking behind him and trying his best to smile reassuringly.

"Excellent."

He finally glanced behind him, keeping his eyes lowered and speaking quietly.

"Dex? Take everyone to camp please. I'll be there shortly."

He didn't wait for Dex to respond and he didn't meet his eyes, but after a moment of still silence the air was filled with the sound of the squad filing slowly into the surrounding forest. Jarvan waited until the noise was far away enough for him not to be overheard, and he moved closer to the wild woman, each step he took followed carefully by that sharp, unwavering gaze.

"I never asked your name."

Her glance was still apprehensive, but significantly less so now that they were alone.

"Shyvana."

Jarvan smiled again, aware only now that all the smiling might appear strange. He held a hand out anyway, introducing himself.

"I'm Jarvan the Fourth. Crowned prince of Demacia."

Her eyes narrowed at the last part of his introduction, and she stared at his hand until he let it awkwardly fall to his side. Jarvan figured she wasn't one for shaking hands and nodded his head to where his company had disappeared to.

"Shall we?"

She took the lead without possibly knowing where they were going, and even though the sun was dipping behind the trees and the forest would be dark in a matter of minutes, Jarvan didn't doubt that she could find the camp with no help from him. He had to almost jog after her, fighting to keep pace with her swift stride. Despite how differently the night turned out, Jarvan had the rare opportunity to speak with a race no one had ever encountered before; he had an endless amount of questions practically falling from his mouth, and he wasn't sure where to begin.

"You were following our trail."

Not exactly a question, but he figured it was the easiest thing to start out with. He also thought it best not to mention that most of the trail was purposely laid out in an attempt to lure her to them.

"Not directly."

Jarvan tilted his head in confusion, his eyes focused intently on her face. He wasn't watching where he was going, but he figured if he followed close enough to Shyvana that he wouldn't get lost.

"Another trail, then?"

She pursed her lips, seemingly reluctant to answer.

"Yes."

They stumbled into the camp before Jarvan could ask the obvious follow-up question, and Shyvana paused on the fringe of the activity. Jarvan's soldiers were bustling between several hastily strung up tents, lighting cook fires, pouring drinks, cleaning weapons; Shyvana stared awkwardly until Jarvan led her to a tent a little aside from the rest, leaving Shyvana to perch stiffly around the freshly dug fire pit situated in front of it and joining the rest of his company, who, to their credit, didn't immediately assault him with questions. He took his travelling pack from the man who had been kind enough to carry it for him while he walked with Shyvana and grabbed one of the game pheasants they had set aside for dinner, leveling his eyes to everyone gathered around him.

"I'll explain later."

The hushed whisper fell quickly from his lips, and he hoisted the bag onto his shoulder, pheasant in his hand, and walked back to where he'd left Shyvana. He carefully lowered the pack to the ground while Shyvana watched, looking for a place to put the pheasant, and taking long enough that Shyvana tugged the bird from his hands, not lifting her eyes and immediately beginning to methodically pull the feathers from the bird.

"Light the fire."

Jarvan did as he was told, expertly lighting the campfire with swift, practiced motions while trying to simultaneously watch everything that Shyvana did. His eyes eventually moved from what her hands were doing to the rest of her body, marveling at the unusual beauty of it. The skin that was the strangest hue of blue – or purple? - that he'd ever seen was almost navy in the night, but the fire in her eyes was as bright as ever. He forced his gaze away from her eyes before he ran out of time to stare freely, moving to the patches of scales that graced seemingly random parts of her body. The firelight glittered off their smooth edges, the color the muted red of glowing coals. They spanned the backs of her deft hands, splotched the skin around her hips, and Jarvan could see that even though the scales themselves subsided, the slit in her vest that left a thin sliver of skin from between her collar bones to her navel bare was imprinted with the pattern of scales, the navy of the skin turned black where it outlined the pattern. When Jarvan's eyes inevitably made it back to her face, he noticed there was the smallest cluster of the scaled pattern beneath the corner of each eye, dusting the top edges of her sharp cheekbones and disappearing into her hairline. Besides the parts of her that were decidedly dragon, Jarvan noticed that her clothes were worn and dusty, and her feet were caked in the mud that lined the riverbanks. Staring as hard as he did, he even noticed that the dark flesh beneath her eyes seemed puffy and discolored, as if she was exceptionally exhausted.

"Are you finished?"

Her lazy tone caught him off guard, and he flushed slightly, pointing to the pheasant she still held.

"Are you?"

She presented it to him with what he assumed was a satisfied smile, her mouth just barely lifting upward in one corner. It was picked perfectly clean, and Jarvan proceeded to affix it to a spit, turning it gently over the fire while he worked up to asking Shyvana what he hadn't had the chance to mention earlier.

"You're tracking someone."

It came out as less of a question and more of a statement, but it didn't seem to especially bother her. She watched Jarvan tend to the food, her gaze unblinking.

"A dragon."

Jarvan's movements faltered, and his eyes flew to hers.

"Is it wounded, by any chance?"

Shyvana's head jerked up and her gaze locked onto Jarvan's, her nose flaring in what could only be anger- the only definitive emotion he'd experienced from her yet.

"You know of him?"

Jarvan was unsettled by the sudden intensity of the conversation, but he answered calmly.

"Of course. We've been tracking it for weeks."

Shyvana's eyes fell to the fists in her lap, and she practically growled her next words.

"You shouldn't be- he is a murderer."

One of Jarvan's hands lifted in an attempt to comfort her, but he thought better of it and let it slowly fall back to his side.

"I don't understand."

Shyvana let her fists loosen, instead staring at her palms.

"He's hunted my family from the moment of my birth."

Jarvan had a good enough idea of what the rest of the story was from her heavy tone, and although he almost didn't want to, he asked anyway.

"Your family?"

Shyvana's fingers twitched, and even though she fought to keep the anger in her tone, it sounded more forlorn that anything Jarvan had ever heard.

"My father was a great dragon- but lesser than he. And my mother…"

She shrugged in a weak attempt at indifference.

"Humans are weak."

It was an explanation that Jarvan had no hope of replying to, but he was saved from the awful sadness of the moment when Shyvana suddenly lifted her head, her face clear of the bitterness that had marred it only seconds ago.

"It's burning."

She nodded to the pheasant that was, in fact, starting to smoke, and Jarvan quickly moved the spit, carefully sticking the free end into the packed dirt while he rooted around in his pack for a plate and cutlery. He was almost grateful when he remembered he had an extra, and then felt guilty when he remembered who had left it behind- a member of his group that had unfortunately not made it this far. He was about to hand them to Shyvana when she ripped one of the legs off of the pheasant, staring at his halfway extended hands in confusion. She tore into the meat with gusto while Jarvan returned half of the flatware to his pack, setting his own in front of him and using his knife to carefully cut off most of the breast. The little campfire was almost silent while they ate, the only sounds the shallow breaths between bites of the thin meat. Shyvana continued to pull off pieces of meat she deemed the most eye catching while eyeing Jarvan strangely when he used his knife to remove the cuts he wanted, until the bird was hardly more than bits of leftover meat clinging to greasy bones.

They seemed reluctant to speak after that; Jarvan wanted to be as content as she seemed to be just staring into the fire, but he knew the company would be up early the next morning to continue their hunt, and he wanted badly for Shyvana to go with them.

"You want to avenge your father."

Shyvana didn't look up, but she answered immediately.

"Not want- I will avenge him."

Once again Jarvan found himself admiring the fire in her voice, and hoped her anger was great enough that she would accept his offer.

"Come with us. My company and I will aid you as best we can."

The following silence was heavy and lengthy compared to how fast she had just answered him, and Jarvan anticipated a flat refusal. He was surprised when she finally whispered her decision.

"I accept."

The same words she'd responded with earlier, and before Jarvan could say anything else she left the campfire, striding quickly into the forest next to his tent to where he assumed she would make her own camp. He watched the dark trees for several minutes, not sure what he was waiting for but strangely reluctant to look away. The anticipation of hunting this dragon had always excited him, but he would have never have guessed that he'd recruit a half-dragon along the way- or that if he had to imagine one, that the half-dragon would be anything like Shyvana was.

At this rate- he wondered what the next day would bring.