Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. Just to let you know, almost every character in this chapter was created by me. I know it may seem like a little much, but it helps to thicken the plot and create a better understanding of Alessandra. Enjoy! R&R!
There was no telling how long I had been unconscious. Maybe a minute, maybe a day. All I could tell was that the sun looked to be in about the same relative position (not that I knew much about that) in the sky, and that I was once again in mortal peril.
Once my eyes opened and recovered from the initial pain in my forearm, I glanced quickly at my surroundings. I was lying in a cluster of bushes at the edge of a forest, which did a good job of explaining why I was so uncomfortable and scratched up. My head ached from a large lump on the back of it, and my headache wasn't helped by the bright sunlight. I squinted against the pain, but it was soon drowned out when I spotted a group of dark figures in the road.
Draconians. A group of about five or six draconians all dressed in matching jet black armor were lingering in the road, looting the dead humans, draconians, and hobgoblins that perished during our escape. It was strange that they were the only ones since the last moments that I could remember consisted of several hundred draconians and hobgoblins. Maybe they were stragglers, or maybe they were just looking to make an easy buck. All I knew was that I had remained hidden so long as I was lying down, but now that I was awake and sitting up one of them spotted me.
Why did time just never slow down! Could I not just have one second to breathe! First I get into a bar brawl, then I get put in a cage where I eventually get shot in the arm, and now I'm about to get assaulted by a group of draconians! Again! Life sucks!
Well, apparently whatever gods they worshipped around here didn't seem to care that much about my griping, because the draconians who had spotted me drew weapons and began advancing. I panicked at the sight of their gleaming blood stained swords and leapt to my feet in a meek attempt at self defense. I tried to raise my left arm, but I was unable to because of the arrow. Seeing me in my weakened state only encouraged the draconians. As they drew closer to me one of them actually licked the blood on their sword. I would have gagged had I not been so terrified I was frozen.
I backed away a few steps though I knew that wouldn't help me any. It was clear to me that I was at the end. There were five armed, deadly draconians against one weak, injured human girl who hadn't the slightest idea in hell what she was doing! There was no possible way I could survive.
To cut off all my exits the reptile men flanked out around me, forming a sort of pentagon. I spun around in terror, trying to keep them all in my line of sight, but in vain. I wanted to scream, to yell in horrified agony, at the world for placing me in this situation. I was a fawn, not even experienced enough to understand the hunt, cornered by a group of ruthless, merciless hunters who knew the game inside and out. I was done. All I could do was lay down in hopeless, helpless surrender and pray that my death was fast. The desire to give in overwhelmed me.
Breathing too quickly, I turned once more and cast one last look at my killers. Their eyes burned with the eager anticipation of a kill that made my skin crawl. I found myself looking deeper into their eyes, meeting their gazes longer than I should have and each one longer than the last, until I finally stopped and stared at the draconian in front of me.
The scaly skin of the lizard man's face was drawn into a leering grin. His clawed hands gripped his weapon tightly, eagerly. As I studied him all of my helplessness faded away into cold, impassive apathy. A cold pit expanded in my stomach and I felt my expression harden. For reasons that I couldn't understand I no longer cared about my own life or the situation I was in. All I could see was the draconian in front of me and the sword in his hands. It was an implement of death, and it was coming at me.
The draconian seemed to wilt beneath my gaze. His reptilian eyes wavered and his arm lowered almost involuntarily. My eyes narrowed as I glared at him and he seemed to back away from me. In an instant his manner was almost respectful. But he was the only one who reacted this way to me. There were still four other draconians who would like nothing more than to cut me to pieces.
But that cold expanse was not limited to my stomach. It spread through my body until my entire mindset changed and left in its place a burning hatred, something that could almost be described as a darkness. Where fear had dominated me only a moment before now rested hatred, extreme hatred, and…power? I had the strangest sensation of power coursing through me, the idea that they had no independence from me. It was the idea of my dominance over them; they lived only to serve me. Who can say where it came from?
The origin of these thoughts and feelings ceased to matter. I turned slowly around the group, fastening each one of them with a gaze that I was sure was powerful enough to make even dragons cringe. It certainly affected the draconians. They all lowered their swords and took more passive stances, but they still leered at me. It was as though their bodies had no choice but to obey me while they minds raced with sadistic thoughts.
However, their partial obedience did not suit me well enough at the moment. Though something told me that there would come a later time for me to teach them true respect for their superiors, I still had the desire to cut their throats and watch them bleed. Blood, that was all that I wanted. Yet even though I had wanted to kill them at that moment I did not have had the opportunity. Everything about the situation, the tension, the hatred, even my own inner hardness, was cut short by a strong male voice.
"That will do," the voice commanded calmly yet firmly. It cut through my mind and jarred my thoughts. At that jolt of reality all feelings of superiority left. My anger and hatred subsided and I was left an injured, helpless girl yet again. But now I was absolutely disgusted with myself for my violent thoughts. Worse, my head buzzed with confusion and whatever hold I once had over the draconians was now broken. They gripped their weapons tightly again, death shining in their eyes.
Frightened, I whirled around to see if this newcomer was friend or foe. What I saw made my heart pound in terror. A man was standing at the edge of the forest in gleaming black and gold armor. He held a horned mask beneath his arm and a cape of black and gold swirled around him. Swords and daggers hung from his belt. He had blond hair that hung to his chin and a square jaw that reminded me of Brad Pitt. His mouth was set with a grim expression, yet his eyes had a cheerful sparkle in them that I hadn't expected to be there. Surrounding him were four more draconians all in matching black armor, but to his right was a man that I found absolutely captivating.
He was slim and hard looking, not at all like the kind of person I would normally associate with. But then again normalcy died a long time ago. He had long, smooth black hair that reached to his shoulders and blended into his velvety black robes. His arms met and his hands disappeared through the folds of the black sleeves. Yet when I reached his eyes I knew instantly why I was drawn to him. His eyes, his brilliant ruby eyes, were latched onto mine. I felt a strange sensation in my stomach, something that I couldn't place. It was as though he could see into my soul and I could see into his. And it felt right, perfect.
I was meant to be near him.
"I feel I must apologize," the blond man said with a slight southern accent though I barely heard him. He continued, "Draconians often have no conception of manners." He chuckled, then, seeing how entranced I was by his companion, cast a quick glance at him and smirked. "Madam, if I may make it up to you by bringing you to my camp, offering you hospitality."
A slight nagging sensation jerked at my brain. Giving into it, I looked away from the black clad man at the blond man. Quickly processing his words and not willing to risk offending him, I nodded. He gave me a pleased smile and I took a second to note that he was rather attractive. Not that I had forgotten about the sword and helmet and all that, but a girl can look even while on the brink of death.
Besides, while the enveloping pit of cold darkness had subsided, it had not completely vanished. I could still feel it ebbing beneath the surface. Something about it, and the black clad man, told me that I would be welcomed among these people. That cold darkness nudged me forward, itching to be drawn out once again by this black clad man.
The march back to his camp took longer than expected. Much longer than expected. About thirty minutes longer than expected. Okay, okay. So thirty minutes really isn't that long to walk, but you have to remember that I've been shot in the arm and haven't had anything to eat or drink in four days. I think thirty minutes is too long.
And apparently so did our golden caped, black armored leader, who had introduced himself to me as Lord Milanthus, Dragon Highlord. I had long ago concluded that the names here were very strange and this only served to further prove my point. Shut up all you people sniggering about Alessandra! Anyway, Lord Milanthus noticed too. First he saw my wound, staring briefly at the arrow and telling me not to remove it in order to keep bleeding at a minimum. Then, as time passed, he turned to the black clad man who had yet to introduce himself and remarked something about creating a litter for me if I was unable to walk the rest of the way. The ruby eyed man only nodded. But, of course, I felt that similar desire to prove my own worth and make it on my own. And a few minutes later we arrived at a large clearing set in the middle of the forest.
It was not at all what I would have imagined the camp of a Dragon Highlord would look like, at least not based on what Tanis and all them had told me of Dragon Highlords. All in all, it wasn't very large. Only about twenty tents stood erect at one end of the clearing. As many draconians were set to work around them, some sharpening weapons, others patching tents or armor, and some cleaning cookware. At the other end sat a large crackling fire beneath a spit. A chunk of meat was roasting on the spit, but it didn't seem like enough to feed the group in attendance in the clearing. A few stones had been assembled around the fire to serve as seating, and some were already occupied by about half a dozen men and women bearing a striking resemblance to the ruby eyed man. They all had long dark hair, hard expressions, and lean bodies. It was only really the color of their robes that set them apart from one another. The man walking with Milanthus, I noted, was the only one who wore black.
Milanthus ordered a bucket of water and some clean rags and the draconian troops instantly departed. Then he steered me over to the fire and motioned to a large stone somewhat apart from the others. I sat obediently, now horribly aware of the arrow in my arm and the growing cold pit in my chest.
As I sat, the six men and women all ceased talking and looked my direction. I immediately noted their glowing ruby eyes, the same color as the black clad man who was now standing a ways behind me to my right. Their burning eyes first latched onto my necklace which was hanging freely across my black racerback. Then their gazes moved upward to my face, where I met them unafraid. The cold pit grew, though I couldn't say why, and I recognized them from their gazes. My stomach began to turn with excitement.
Dragons! They were dragons!
I was speechless with delight. The thought of being in the presence of something so divine was incredible, but to have them so near to me and looking at me was beyond comprehension! It inspired me in a way I can't describe. It wasn't a dark pit that erupted within me, but rather a warm feeling of comfort. It was like I had been lost for so long, torn away from them, but now I was back and they were there to welcome me.
And one of them saw it in my eyes. Her hardened face gave me a surprisingly soft smile with eyes that burned. Maybe they burned because I was here. Whatever the reason, she turned away from me, followed by the rest of her group. They quickly returned to talking in low voices that I couldn't hear. The dark warmth in me willed Milanthus, or anyone for that matter, to bring me over to them.
Yet he noticed nothing. He sat to my left and examined my wounded arm. Slowly my attention returned to him. He was unlike anything I heard about a Dragon Highlord. Tanis had told me that they were violent and cruel, not caring about human life in least. But here was Milanthus, examining my arm after he had saved my life. And I, a girl so out of place in this world that I was beginning to lose hope. And then he spoke.
"How did you get this?" He had a slightly southern accent that made me think of my home in the south.
"Elves," I said quietly, not sure just how much to say. I flinched as he tweaked the arrow.
"Elves value all life, even human life. Why would they shoot you?" He didn't even look up at me as he spoke. It was almost as if he knew the answer.
"I don't think they - Ow! - meant to." He looked up at me and gave me an apologetic smile. For the first time I noticed that his eyes were a beautiful deep, sapphire color. I couldn't help giving a small smile in return. His eyes held mine for a moment longer, and I was surprised to find something familiar about them. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew that he was different than everyone else here.
Then he nodded and looked back down at my arm. "You were with the slave caravans." It was a statement, not a question. My thoughts immediately went to Goldmoon. In the cage I remembered hearing talk of how she was the cleric that was sought after by Lord Verminaard, and simply being in her company was enough to have me executed. I waited breathlessly for Milanthus to strike me down, a cold knot in my stomach.
But he didn't. He didn't even look back at me. My eyes narrowed in confusion. I didn't understand anything about this damn world, least of all him! If he was so evil, shouldn't he have killed me by now? Yet even as I gave Milanthus and utterly bewildered stare, I felt a pair of eyes burning into my back. The black clad man was still there, staring intently at me and not making a sound.
At that moment a draconian soldier hurried over to us carrying a bucket of water and rags, exactly as ordered. He bowed respectfully to Milanthus, but eyed me warily. The raised an eyebrow as I felt the coldness stirring once again. Part of me desperately wanted this draconian to strike me or do something else to initiate that feeling of cold hatred. That part of me loved it. The other part of me was desperately afraid and fought against it. I contented myself with raising an eyebrow at the reptilian creature.
"Very good," Milanthus said absently, completely unaware of my inner struggle. He took the bucket and rags and set them on the stone next to him. Then he turned back to the soldier. "Bring me Ghazakk." The soldier bowed, this time not meeting my gaze, and left.
"This will hurt," the Highlord told me sternly as he gripped part of the arrow shaft. I braced myself for pain as he broke off one end of the arrow. I gasped in pain as the head jarred and twisted in my flesh. He placed a rag at the end of the shaft and pushed the arrow completely through my flesh until the wood slid smoothly out. I gasped in pain as crimson blood flowed freely from my open wound. Milanthus quickly tied a few rags around it and pressed against it, which consequently only made it hurt more. When the bleeding had slowed enough, he released the pressure but tied another rag tighter on top of the others. Then he looked around to find a black robed draconian waiting to be addressed.
While they spoke I gently fingered the bandages of my sore arm. With the familiar sensation of someone watching me, I lifted my eyes to find all six men and women staring at me curiously. Well, at first glance I thought they were looking at me, but then I noticed that they were really looking past me. Curious and slightly anxious, I turned around to find the black clad man's eyes burning into mine. In his eyes I saw more emotion than I could have thought possible. Anger burned at the surface, though I didn't know why. But as I felt myself pulled deeper into his gaze I recognized pain and sorrow, though again I wasn't sure why. Yet what left me breathless was his passion. With one look I saw more passion in his eyes than I had ever imagined possible.
My heart nearly stopped when he opened his mouth to speak, but he never had the chance to issue any words because Milanthus cut him off. The dark Highlord positioned himself in front of me and stuck a strange looking bottle in front of my face.
"A healing potion. Now, I'm sure that cleric of yours could heal this in an instant, but why make you wait when I can heal now?" Confused and now completely self conscious, I took the bottle from him. But I didn't drink. I may have been taken by surprise by this man several times now, but I wasn't about to be poisoned.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked no longer able to contain my suspicions.
Milanthus smiled. "Because from what I can tell, you're American. Just like me."
Stunned, I dropped the bottle and heard it shatter against the stone. "I beg your pardon?"
Sorry that took so long to update. First I went on vacation with my family (and far away from computers) and then I was panicking to finish my summer assignments. But I'm going to try to update this story and Untouchable once more before school starts in two days. I also know that this story didn't have much in it, but I needed to put everything in it. The next one will start explaining a few things, like the name of the mysterious black robed man/dragon.
Thanks! R&R!
