Dragon(s)layer

15


Long Day


What had initially started out as a celebration had turned into something a little more somber. The dragonflies were rattled worst from the first real display of violence they had ever witnessed. Cynder's destructive escape had shocked them so badly, that many refused to come out of their little homes the following morning.

Moles that had been sharing thickets tried to coax their generous hosts outside to bid them farewell, but seldom few were actually heeded.

Ignitia hated the feeling of dread that had fallen on the cute little bramble village. The insects were so innocent, tiny and delicate. They weren't meant for war, she knew.

Having slept in a larger, hollowed thicket, Ignitia greeted the cloudy morning with a wide yawn as she stretched her scaly limbs and flexed her wings in the crisp air. She shivered and her fins preened. The temperature had dropped by almost a quarter of yesterday's level.

The once very lively village was now eerily still as wisps of fog rose from the peat-puddles ringing the exterior fringes and recesses. It passed like ghostly tendrils around the thickets and nested over the feet of Moles as they packed their meager belongings in hushed little family units in the village center.

A few dragonflies were out handing off leaf-wrapped rations and urns of stew and amber-beer. Talking was at an all-time low, save for an odd mumble or wayward call.

Ignitia looked at the sky.

Cynder broke my seal.

-What was she thinking? Cynder had never been restrained by the seal in the first place. It was all an act.

To get to him.

The Guardian narrowed her eyes as she stared at Spyra's thicket.

When Cometcu and Lightnux had spent all night begging Spyra to not leave, they had eventually passed out. Spyra had put them and her brother to bed, staying up and talking to Ignitia briefly as the latter hung her head through their little kitchen window.

"The Captain's sending ahead of us for Warfang. He'll bring back a few more Wings to transport the Moles and our non-flight-capable party members…" She was explaining.

The Fallen reclined from where he'd been digging in a nook shelf, giving her a little 'Heyo' –before slurping at a pitcher of cranberry juice as he walked out of the kitchen and towards….

Spyra's room.

Ignitia had felt her scales bristle and a cold, pinpricking sensation of anger flow into her blood. Right in front of her. He wasn't even being subtle. Though she supposed neither of them had outright said anything, nor planned to…

Still, Ignitia couldn't help but silently scheme about how to confront the Fallen about the 'Issue' even if it technically wasn't any of her business…

"Ignitia?" Spyra groggily blinked at her. "Did you hear me?"

"No, excuse me, say again." Ignitia hid her displeasure with her matronly, trademark smile.

"I asked what we're doin' about Forlorn."

"I'll organize a team tomorrow and we'll search the wreckage for anything we might have missed, including the corrupted pool. I wish to make sure it is destroyed before we leave for the north."

"Sounds like a plan…" Spyra rubbed her eye and yawned, sitting for a moment in the kitchen, her gaze locked on the arch frame to her room nook. "…It feels good to be home. Y'know what really sucks? Being on a bungee-chord, and slingshotting between wanting to leave for an amazing place and my destiny, and staying where I'm most familiar with things."

"Spyra, I know that what me, the Captain and the city are asking of you is difficult, but…" Ignitia sighed. "…We need you."

When Spyra didn't say anything, Ignitia added:

"Because we are losing."

"…Welp', we haven't lost yet." Spyra grinned. "As the saying goes: risk it all, or bitch out."

The Purple Dragon trotted over to her room nook and waved at Ignitia with her wing.

"G'night, Ignitia."

"Goodnight, dear." Ignitia purred warmly, her expression souring as soon as Spyra passed inside her nook.

She could hear nesting shifting before Spyra giggled in the dark, the Fallen's gruff voice whispering to her in the shadows.

….Back in the present, Ignitia was adamant now about understanding this human and to what extent his powers truly were capable of reaching.

Warfang would earn answers for all of them.

"Captain, I assume you're to be off for-" Ignitia blinked when she found Harad's thicket empty.

"You looking for the green one?" A white colored dragonfly female buzzed out of the shadows inside, holding a little quilt over her arms. She must have been Harad's host last night.

"Yes, have you seen the Captain, my lady?" Ignitia asked.

"He left before sunrise, heading that way." The dragonfly pointed through the arch. Ignitia followed her finger.

North.

Harad wasn't one to waste time, she supposed.

"You needed him for something?" The dragonfly cocked her head.

"I would've wished him luck a second time, for whatever it was worth." Ignitia trotted away to get ready to leave. She eyed the broken cabinet that some of the Moles had carried into the village as she passed, stuffed with all the records she'd saved. Whatever soldiers got stuck carrying that would be grumbling the whole flight.

Nearby, Morinth was just emerging from one of the thicket homes, stretching her wings.

"-EEyyaahhhh…~" –She groaned, slapping her chops and itching a shoulder. Morinth sighed, snorted and then cringed. "-Ick. Spyra was right, it does stink around here in the morning…"

"Did you say something, Morri-poo?" Taliopia drowsily wandered out of the same home, fumbling as she stuffed healing salves back into the little hip pouch she had. "And good morning."

"Morning, lovveee~." Morinth pecked her on the head and noticed Ignitia. "Ah! 'Ello mam'. We're ready to start operations on demand."

"Can't we have some breakfast first?" Taliopia made a sour face as the swamp-humus hit her hard. "Eeeww… it smells out here…"

"It's the pollination and sporing time for most of the vegetation." Ignitia said, stopping before them. "It's also because the temperature rises from the cooler nighttime and evaporates moisture clinging to the peat bog mud, that's why you see all the fog."

"I didn't need to see it to know it." Morinth pinched her nose and fanned her wings. "Just a quick up-and-up by Cynder's wrecked fortress today?"

"A brief sweep before Harad returns with aid." Ignitia nodded. "Mount your tailblades, Morinth, Tali', we don't know if anything survived the collapse yesterday. Be on your guards."

Next stop was Corrinthol and Torrdonal, both of whom were gathered around an expended campfire from last night. The fire dragon looked so dejected, that Ignitia could've easily mistaken him for being on death row.

"It isn't so bad around here, the moisture is quite pleasant." Torrdonal was saying, grooming at his back fins. "It reminds me of home. No pools of water, just warm, slightly damp air. We keep a tight schedule on atmosphere at my den."

"…Really fantastic…" Corrinthol groaned. "…I'm hungry. All that food last night wasn't even good, and the amber-beer was in drops. I could eat a tree right now."

"Prepare yourselves, gentledrakes, we're leaving soon." Ignitia hummed, ignoring Corrinthol's disdainful glare.

"It wasn't all that bad." Torrdonal quietly shrugged. "At least the thicket was relatively dry and without water. I slept well."

Corrinthol muttered something unintelligible and tossed a ration wrap at his fellow soldier as he trotted away.

"How fairs all of you?" Ignitia asked as she drew closer to the grouping of Moles. One of them, a little man named Frizsocket, gave her a slight bow before speaking hushedly.

"Some of the infants are sickening." He adjusted a small pair of spectacles atop his long nose, one of the lenses was missing. "It's from malnourishment. The Apes sometimes went days without throwing any scraps in the cell. We did our best to keep the portions small, so they wouldn't overfeed, but some of the mothers, they're…"

"I understand." Ignitia swallowed. "Has the dragonfly food been enough for the rest of you? As enough can be, mind me…"

"It probably saved a few lives on the spot." Frizsocket was unable to smile for long periods of time, she'd observed. He just flashed quick grins. He had merely alluded to having seen something terrible during his enslavement when questioned about it. "The condition of the little ones isn't critical, but it's enough to keep me even on my toe-claws. That medic you have? Could you spare her before you're off today?"

"Certainly." Ignitia nodded. "I'll have Taliopia make her rounds. Are there any other injuries?"

"Injuries?" Frizsocket chuckled. "That Fallen fellow passed around one of those needle-things on his waist, kept the tip clean by a flame and rag. You know Dentspeckle? The Mole with the dippy-eye? It isn't dippy anymore, and his broken leg isn't broken anymore. He works miracles, that creature. Did he really fall from the sky like the Purple Dragon is saying?"

"I've been taking her word for it, but I have my doubts." Ignitia brushed a claw. "It isn't important. Keeping you all well until we can transport you back to the city is imperative."

"You're looking for Forlorn's Vision Pool, ma'am?"

"Yes. Many of your people have already described its location, directly at the heart of the catacomb tunnels."

"It's probably buried under tons of stone and rubble. I wouldn't bother." Frizsocket wiggled his nose. "I can smell a dead effort from a mile away."

She and Frizsocket had only communed a handful of times during their trek from Forlorn to the village and during the gathering last night. He had revealed himself to be an engineer quite knowledgable on 'Animating Technology and Talking Gear-Speak' –as the Moles commonly quipped.

He had also been the one to reveal that the Moles had all come from the ill-fated steam vessel known as the Hail Digger. It had been a ship evacuating Mole warriors and their families from Tall Plains after Jute's tribe had taken the islands. Bad weather had led the ship off course before it beached west of Stormwatch, and Apes on patrol had captured the survivors.

"…But," Frizsocket sighed, stuffing his paws in the little folds of his ragged vest. "you Guardian types get your eyes fixated on something, and everyone else might as well be warning a wall."

"We're known more for our tenacity than our stubbornness." Ignitia chuckled.

But, really, as she thought about it, the Mole engineer was more on the mark than she would care to admit. Ignitia never remembered being this self-conscious before…

Maybe if Cynder hadn't so effortlessly swatted away that god damned seal last night, she'd be more inclined to trust her own intuition.

"The first thing that I think you should do when we get home," Ignitia pointed a talon at Frizsocket's spectacles. "is get those fixed properly."

"It's glaring, I know." Friz' wiggled his nose. "I forget the glass is gone on the left all the time now, makes me wonder if my eyesight went as wonky as I thought."

Now she felt a little better. Self-doubt was always tolerable when it wasn't limited to just you.


{🐉}

Things felt like old times for just a second. Gray morning light streaming through her nook's little window, the unpleasant rat-ass stank of the shroom spores acting up, the warmth of her human partner overtaking her flanks.

Wait.

Spyra groggily blinked and examined her own nesting.

Oh, yeah.

She felt her eyelids sag and grumbled, curling her neck over the Fallen's shoulder and dozing against his exposed back. This was probably the most subdued of him she had ever witnessed. They had started resting like this originally because of how cold the swamp got at night (though, she liked to believe he'd been eyeing her up since he'd landed, even if it probably wasn't true, probably) but after the battle and the temple, it only felt natural.

Her curvy purple body looked dimly azure in the shade of her childhood nook. For a while, the dragoness tried to bathe in the atmosphere of her own home, thinking about every crevice, corner and bramble making the walls, or the leaves that grew down the kitchen arch, and the remains of the massive stump that sealed the whole south end of the home…

A sudden stab of emotional dread forced her eyes open, and before she knew it, Spyra was doting on the hay and sheets making her nest past the small of the human's back.

…She might never see this place again.

The journey to Warfang.

…What if she lost? What if the Fallen lost and she couldn't take it?

So many things.

So many things to extinguish her life.

Apes, Cynder, Dreadwings, collapsing towers… and, if she was to believe the Fallen's warnings, things soon to be much worse.

She flexed her talons protectively over his soft skin, listening to him breathe as she draped herself over him like a clingy cat.

In lighter retrospect: Spyra had never felt like this with anyone before. She'd never strived for something her entire life. An almost matriarchal sense of connection to this creature, a burning, internal flame (not of her own breath element, that shit was spicier) that only he quelled was deeply rooted in her body.

Spyra was addicted to this human. He was like a narrow-waisted, vital, creamy-skinned narcotic.

She hadn't stopped thinking about mating since he'd first touched her. Her insides felt different, they felt… looser, almost, and were even more reactive to being touched. The dragon had been given a taste of sex two days in a row and now it was all she wanted.

How do I ask?

What.

She was the girl. They always had the easiest times asking. In fact, there was no asking. No straight male in the world was backing down when a female just bent the hell over and beckoned with 'Come Hither'.

Especially with her. Spyra had hips that could be legally registered as weapons.

Maybe if I just start humping him.

Resigning to doing just that, Spyra crawled lower and jammed her nose into the center of his pectorals, inhaling the subdued, crisp scent of her own soap on his clean skin. She growled under her throat and recognized a growing purr thrumming in her breast. Her new position let her paw his shoulders and gave her thigh ample reach to spoon past his hips.

It must have been an interesting sight, this vibrating, purring reptile wriggling all over the Fallen like a cheap, on the spot companion cushion. But seeing wasn't feeling. The Fallen was feeling, and a whole lot of it. After a grind or two, he started to wake up, grunting.

"…w-whazit…" He slurred, chin bumping into her head-fin as he tried to look down at her. "…sspyra-wuz-u-doin…"

"Mornin', babe." She mumbled, growling as she rubbed her dragon cunt over his flaccid member. "…Y-You sleep well?"

"As well as usual." He rubbed his eyes, laying a hand on her back as he put together what she was doing. "…Don't we have to get ready to leave soon?"

"Leave-shmeave… I want my male now"

"…Right now? But…"

"-Oh~… Ancestors…. Why do you have to be so… so…" Spyra whined, reaching down to run his crown between her labia. "…Fuckable?"

"It's a positive job benefit." He twitched, sleep bleeding from his body as Spyra roused him. "…Doesn't it feel a bit weird doing this in your family's house?"

"I can't remember you complaining this much before." Spyra gasped as her fluids started to coat both of their groins. She swore, every time the Fallen touched her, it was like turning on the faucet… "C'mon, dude, your 'ness needs a good dicking to get her going today."

"I gave you a dicking just last night."

"What? No you didn't, we-" Spyra blinked when her hip rolled into something wet and cold. She craned off him and past her wing to examine a noticeable splotch that had dried on one section of the nesting. "…Oh."

Evidence as good as any.

She must have been positively exhausted yesterday if she couldn't remember that.

Oh well. Seconds then.

"Too bad I wasn't able to see off Harasal." The Fallen muttered offhand. "He probably left already."

"…I thought it was Hamood…?" Spyra mumbled, not listening as she dipped a claw between their bellies and worked him to full length. "…Y'know, I didn't say thank you last night…"

"For what?"

"You know… saving my home, destroying that tower and wiping out an Ape army because I asked real nice?"

"Huh, well when you put it that way…"

"Guess I'll just have to make up for it by letting you rail me again." She chuckled, shivering as she stuffed his crown through the first of her heavenly folds, sinking against his pelvis. "…OoooOoohhh yeah…~ -Hey, whatchyu' doin'-?"

The Fallen groggily climbed onto his knees as he gripped her digitigrade ankles and bundled them together just ahead of her belly. Every motion was characterized with a tired grunt. For all either of them knew, his body was on sex-machine autopilot.

"…this is new…~" Spyra licked her chops as he aligned her vertically, gripped her higher ass-cheek and started pumping. "…AAAHhh-~!"

"Shoosh!" He hissed.

"-T-Then stop t-t-thrusting so good-!" Spyra's head rocked as the Fallen penetrated her in a comfortable pattern of wet slaps. She chewed on her talons to muffle a groan as she fell into the nesting and hiked her hips higher to give him better reach. "…OooohIdon'tcare… just breed me…~"

"-W-What if someone hears us?" He grunted between pounds, his eyes darting for the nook's arch.

Did anyone even realize he was sleeping in the same nest with her?

"…Nobo-dy-is… going-to hear us-now harder… harder, damn it…~ -Hey! You listenin'? I said HARDER!" She barked. The Fallen whimpered- half in fright of her lust-rage and half out of terror of being walked in on –and started jamming his hips to meet hers even faster. "-Ooohhhthat'stheticket-! AhhhhhHhahahhhh…~"

Wet plaps sounded around the room as Spyra's body hurriedly lubed them both up. She dragged her golden horns into the nesting and let her tail swing impatiently as he fucked her.

"…Someone's loud this morning…" The Fallen panted amid his hammering, cold energy stabbing through his veins as the early morning sex invigorated his dormant systems. "…Y-You didn't tell anyone about us… didn't you? What do we do if they find out this way?"

Spyra was beside herself and could only respond with a pained mewl, her heavy backside rippling each time he spread her flower, leaving silvery juice-trails to link their hips with every draw-back.

"…S-Spyra-" He grunted. "-A-Answer me."

"We'll ask them if they want to watch, 'cause I ain't stopping!" She snapped at him, her tail snaring over his leg and squeezing. "Now quit complainin' and get back to breedin'. W-What are you, a one-pump-chump or somethin'?"

"-O-One p-pump-?! You- You little-! Mmf-!"

"-AhhhhhhAHHAHH-~!"


{🐉}

"Thankyou Mrs. Spyra's Mom." Taliopia took the teacup daintily, her rose eyes gleaming with a barely suppressed urge to grab Cometcu and hug her.

She had such a cute face. It reminded the dragonfly matron of Spyra when she had been a hatchling. Innocent, curious, naive…

"You can just call me Cometcu, sweetie."

"I can," The medic trailed, taking a sip from her little cup. "but it kind of feels rude."

Cometcu chuckled as she hefted the pitcher back and placed it on the ground. In the village center, she had come out to help with any medical necessities before the Moles inevitably left. While work had been slim (on account of the Fallen's injector-devices) the regenerative properties of the devices did not cure sickness. Natural balms, herbal remedies and light touches of plant-magic were at Cometcu's disposal as she worked with ailing Mole infants and adults who had been hit hardest inside Cynder's slave pit.

Taliopia had done such a good job, however, that she found herself in even that manner hardly needed. The medic may have been meek, but no one could doubt the tenacity of her professional skill. Taliopia could brew elixirs, comfort her patients, and apply ointments all at the same time. Cometcu hadn't seen anything like it.

"You do such good work, Taliopia." Cometcu sighed happily, eyes sweeping over the Moles and her kin fluttering between them. "What was all that nonsense you were saying about yourself last night? That you couldn't do anything right?"

"…I really can't though…" Taliopia muttered, swishing the tea inside her cup around as she stared into it. "…I was drafted into the dragon armies because I was needed to fight, and be brave and strong. I-I'm not any of those things… I was always alone when I was younger, and the other hatchlings used to laugh at me because I liked stuffed animals. I never left the den without one."

"There's nothing wrong with liking… stuffed-animals… They aren't actual animals, are they?"

"HmHmm~!" Taliopia's dark mood was lifted with an amused giggle. "No, silly, they're made from fabrics and wool and string. There are vendors in Warfang who sell them for hatchlings all down the market squares, next to the candy stalls and the sparkler carts. I really miss those times. I have a whole collection back home! Stuffed kitties, and puppies and dragons and rabbits…"

"My my, that sounds extensive and expensive…"

"Not really! My daddy has a lot of money, so does mommy. He's a councilor for the city and she's a merchant wharf owner down in Beacon. They took real good care of me, and privately schooled me, and never let me go outside and-" Taliopia wiggled her nose and noticed Cometcu's concerned look. She sneezed cutely and changed the subject. "-B-But then my daddy got mad one day and said that we weren't above what 'Common-Dragons' had to go through, because all the families around us had uncles, sons and fathers getting drafted. He and mommy had a fight with some of the other nobles and afterward they… kind of… forced me to go to the academy. But for all the right reasons! It really forced me out of my shell! ….Sort of.

"I failed all the combat courses and strength tests, and the other students made fun of me, and in the female dorms, one time this nasty dragoness named Rava hid worms inside my nesting, and laughed when I screamed. I-I don't think professor Cyrila liked me much either, and Terradora sneered at me when I went into her classes.

"It didn't help that the only drakes who ever asked to court me I always… rejected, because I liked other females, and when I tried to tell people that, they thought I was gross."

"…Well, this isn't a very nice story." Cometcu dusted her little hands and hovered closer to her. "Why not try to recall all the positive things you've had happen to you?"

"…Oh, sure! Lots of stuff like that happened!" Taliopia nodded rapidly, clutching her tea. "I always passed with flying colors my alchemy and study courses. And all the other unpopular dragons thought I was cool. Professor Volteera really liked me, because I didn't always run away when she started talking, so sometimes after hours, me and her would walk around the gardens and libraries, and she'd tell me about how she couldn't stand everyone hating her, and that she wanted to d-"

"-Positive, Taliopia, think positive." Cometcu stopped her.

"…I-I met Morinth at the academy." Taliopia blushed. "One time, Rava and a bunch of other dragonesses were penning me in a hallway, and Rava said she was going to electrocute me until my wings looked like a Night Dragon's… But then, an actual Night Dragon busted through them! W-Well, a half Night Dragon, Morinth's daddy was a Night Dragon, her mom was a flame dragon, but she got her dad's scales which was why everyone was afraid of her. She scared Rava and the others away and asked if I was alright, and…"

Taliopia paused, her talons tightening on her teacup.

"I just remember that she had the prettiest eyes." She muttered. "I had never seen another dragon who had emerald green eyes like hers. I love her eyes."

"Ah, see? There's a much more lovely thing to remember. You and Morinth, you've been… mated?"

"S-Something like that…" The medic flushed, embarrassedly looping a talon around her cup's rim after a quick sip. "…I started staying around her after that, and all the bullies left me alone, but all of my friends also left me, because they were afraid Morinth was still loyal to the Dark Continent, which she isn't! And never has been… Morinth walked the gardens with me, and told me about how she grew up. She didn't have anything, and was living in the sewers for years before she got old enough to join the academy and train to be a warrior. I told her I could do anything if she was with me, one day in the gardens. That was when she first kiss-"

Taliopia shuddered and drank down the rest of the tea.

"Are you alright?" Cometcu blinked. The medic was shivering, and her eyes were darting all around the village.

"H-Have you seen Spyra at all?" Taliopia quietly cleared her throat, putting her cup down.

"I think she's still sleeping in. It's the least I can do for her after all she went through the last few days…" Cometcu looked over at her family thicket. "…I think all of you could have used a late start today, but Ignitia was insistent we prepare early on."

"W-What about the Fallen?" Taliopia gulped, flapping her wings. "Have you seen him at all?"

"Not since last night." Cometcu shook her head. "…He's a mysterious sort of thing. A lone example of a race no one's ever heard of? At least, if everything I hear from you and your clansmen is accurate. All of you look like aliens to us!" She laughed.

Taliopia awkwardly laughed too and stood up, giving the Moles a last few glances.

"Did anyone else need any help?"

"No, I think we took care of everything." Cometcu said. "Is something wrong, Taliopia? You look… jittery."

"Jittery? Ah-hahah~! No! Silly, I'm not… I'm n-not jittery." Taliopia started shivering even worse now, practically vibrating as she pointed for the thicket and started trotting over, her steps rigid and awkward. "-I'm just gonna' go check if she's up. I'll let her sleep if she isn't."

"There's more tea in the kitchen nook." Cometcu called over. Taliopia answered her with a strange head movement that somehow mixed a nod and shake at the same time. The dragonfly crossed her arms and huffed.

All of these foreigners were so peculiar.


{🐉}

Taliopia went to hunt down the tea on account of her dry mouth, but was halted the second she passed through the thicket's front arch.

There was a whole lot of noise distantly muffled in the very back of the home. Shuffling sounds, crinkling of fabrics and a resounding thud that was in a practiced pattern.

The medic gulped and stood in the foyer nook, trying to listen in and piece together what it all was.

Is that Spyra's voice? Why does it sound like she's crying? Or hurt?

Taliopia brought the forward tips of her wings down to fidget with them. When that did nothing to stop her shivering, she chewed a thumb.

But if she was hurt, she'd be-

"-FUCK-! Fu-uck-kkk…. Ohhhhh~ that's it… right there…"

What in the world…?

"-Harder… do it harder-! YEAH-! Just like that, harder-harder-! AhhhhHahahhh…~!"

Rhythmic grunts, a wet clapping.

It was the Fallen she was hearing.

The Fallen was hurting Spyra!

And she was…. encouraging it?

Taliopia broke her tension all at once and trotted deeper inside Spyra's home, her rosy eyes darting about to the inside of Lightnux and Cometcu's nook, Firefly's, and finally…

"…S-Spyra…? A-Are you alri-"

"-Right there-! Right theerree-ohhhh-FUCK-~!"

The Fallen jackhammered his hips forward one last time, slamming it home into Spyra's cunt with a resounding clap of skin to scales. The purple dragoness' jaw hung as her eyes rolled back and she moaned at the ceiling, drool dripping from her tongue's tip as she and the human started rolling their pelvises into one another.

There was a faint spattering noise and a periodic squelch. Snugly inserted to the base in Spyra's spread, pink lips was the Fallen's pale-skinned dick, twitching as it dumped the full might of his balls into her egg-cooker. Thick tendrils of white, intermixed fluid seeped from the merger and ran down Spyra's ass cheek. Someone could've been outside the thicket for a few feet and still smelled the wafting musk of interspecies sex.

"…Ohhhgawd- that never gets old…~" Spyra moaned, rolling her hips into him more and making him grunt. Steam spired from her mouth and nose. She was grinning stupidly and licking her fangs, eyes heavy and locked on his own. "…Talk about hot, human-boi'… I'm burnin' up…"

The Fallen made a noise not completely dissimilar to a balloon deflating as he hugged Spyra's plump backside, and craned over to bite her shoulder. The dragoness giggled as he rolled her onto her back and spread out her thighs, working their messy union with some slow, weak humps.

"…Round two already…?" Spyra breathed, ragged as he started to rock her into the nest. "…Don't let me stop you, big-boy…~ Pump me full enough times with your babies, and I might just pop…~"

The Fallen only grunted and grit his teeth, his sore hips finding strength in a renewed offensive as he began to breed the curvy dragoness yet again. There was part of him that felt like a prisoner, a slave almost, to her dirty-talking and very persuasive ways…

…One could've shed a tear for his terrible plight. His terrible, rabidly humping, squishy plight…

"…I think you were going easy on me~." Spyra moaned, jolting with each impact as she clawed his arms and let him go to town. "-Look at me- Look at me…. C'mere… You hear me? I want you to fuck me. Fuck your dragon raw. Pound some eggs in me. Pound 'em damn it~."

The Fallen had seen some shit.

He'd watched innocent people die in all kinds of horrific ways. He'd seen allies felled, cities burned, opportunities of centuries missed, and beautiful things become degraded and lost…

…None of that had ever gotten him to whimper, like a starving dog being denied a biscuit.

Spyra was the first one to ever get that out of him. For that, he would forever be begrudgingly acknowledging of.

He just… couldn't fuck her hard enough, fast enough or deep enough. She made it impossible! She was a narcotic, a purple, curvy, velvety soft substance that had completely slipped from his control…

Some of her happy cries were actually from slight pain after the last few pistoning humps. But Spyra got a high from the discomfort. A little pain was to her liking, she had found. Rough sex for her was key.

"…Y-You ever have a 'ness before like me~?" Spyra growled at him, his sweaty face hovering just over her snout as he banged the piss out of her. "-I bet y-you ah-~! Haven't… no sir… n-not at all like me…~ I-I'm your hot, scaly, purple fuck-meat right? Meant to catch your whelps… be your spurt-sack? Your cum-dumpster-womb…~"

Plat-plat-plat-plat-plat-!

His hips were starting to catch on fire, but that was irrelevant. In this moment, he was a depraved animal whose sole purpose was to rut this beautiful reptile into the dirt. Pretty soon, they'd have to start using a collar.

Kinky.

-But really, what was the limit? When had someone, anything ever driven him this crazy? The Fallen couldn't even remember where he was or what world he was in anymore. His whole head was swimming around the singular ideal: thrust until detonation.

Fuck the derg-puss.

It was at these times, in his astrological career that he was happiest, balls deep in a squealing dragoness.

Life truly had few other pleasures that could compare.

But all good things had to come to an end eventually…

Spyra might have started to conjure up some other vulgar string of words for him, but she lost them quickly as a deep, and very very loud moan started to creep up in the back of her throat.

The dragoness' entire body was aflame, and she couldn't feel her nesting under her anymore, suddenly under the impression that she was floating.

The Fallen's breathing had become loud enough that he was wheezing, his vocals grinding like the grumble of an angry lion. The fluids from their first merger had created a spiderlimbed coating over both their bellies and was now about to be joined. It was also the source of the loudened, moist slaps echoing throughout the nook.

Spyra clawed at his shoulders, reared back her horned head, and wailed.

It was quite a unique noise, if not embarrassing, even to be witnessed by the man she was getting penally-wrecked by.

The Fallen jammed into her cunt one last time, groaning all kinds of tones out as he shot an even bigger load into her used hole. There was so much cum that it could be heard. It pattered onto the nesting, pooled in Spyra's rear crevice and over her tailbase, and seeped in the form of thick mounds from between her stuffed labia. The human filled her to the absolute brim, so much so that Spyra's insides had to start regurgitating some of the shipment back in the direction it had cum from.

All was still, minus the faint drip, and the combined pants of a human and his dragoness fuck-sleave.

Spyra wordlessly listed an eye open, clawed at his neck and forced his head down with a single tug, jamming their mouths together in a wet duel of slapping tongues, clicking fangs and teeth and fleeing reams of saliva. She mournfully moaned and flexed her quadruped body into him, grinding her wet scales into him with drunken abandon.

Neither of them said anything to each other as they unlinked their mouths and blinked at one another. The Fallen was the first to giggle, like a little school girl.

"…Who's the whale-interpreter now?" He chortled.

"…Pfffttt~ shut up, dude…" Spyra laughed.

Drip…. Drip…

-They'd been locked in this long enough to know the sound of their own dripping.

Both the Fallen and Spyra's eyes glued in horror to the arch frame of her room nook.

"…Oh my god." The Fallen mumbled.

Taliopia looked… well, she looked off enough to be kindly labeled as: concerning.

For starters, her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. In fact, in the brief time they'd known the meek medic, neither of them had ever seen her rosy eyes so largely displayed. It looked like they might pop right out of their sockets.

Secondly, her wings were brushing against the nook's ceiling in a full-on preen. Her whole body was shivering so violently that the little alchemical viles hanging from her hip sash were jingling, like makeshift Christmas bells.

However, it was the source of the drip that piqued both of their interests.

Taliopia's hind legs were spread, her tail lifted behind her, and she was leaking. To punctuate the point: another clear droplet of nectar fell from her and pattered into the rest of its scrumptious kin on the floor.

The poor medic opened her mouth, could only force out a squeak, and then…

P-dfffttt~! –her body made a tumbling sound as it collapsed just outside the arch. Her wing stood upright in the air, twitched, and then draped stilly behind her. For all either of them knew, Taliopia had up and dropped dead.

"-Tali'!" Spyra squeaked.

The Fallen scrambled off her, leaving an unfortunate trail from the nest to the arch as he knelt over Taliopia's prone form and held a hand in front of her snout. When he felt the cool wash of breath, he touched her forehead, then checked her pulse.

"…She fainted again." He sighed.

"Oh, thank the Ancestors, I thought something a little more serious had happened that time… Poor girl's more naïve than she looks." Spyra wiped her forehead and lounged in her soiled nesting, playing with the fluids bundled in her crotch with two talons idly. She glanced at the Fallen's legs. "…unlike some…"

"What?" He jumped back into the nook and scrambled for a towel. "Did you say something? We need to clean this mess up!"

"I'm used to the messy lifestyle, it's just the filth has a little variation now…" She dismissively waved a paw at him, watching as he darted around, picking things up, wiping at things, wiping himself and bundling more rags. "…So we took a little longer than I thought we would, big whoop. It isn't like we let the war go by or nothin'…"

"What is she going to say to everyone when she wakes up? Are you not worried about this?" The Fallen asked. Spyra couldn't tell if his voice actually had the edge of concern in it. Just curiosity.

"Are you worried?" She chuffed.

"A… A little? I…" He shivered as he dragged his junk through a clean towel. "…I haven't gone through any particular trouble to hide anything, I was assuming most people down here were deliciously dense…"

"Deliciously." Spyra parroted, running the word over her tongue as she brought her talons up to examine them in the morning light, glistening with their combined essences. "…That's not a word I'm used to hearing from you…"

"…Uhm…" He froze in the middle of the nook, mid-wipe with a towel. "…M-Must've just been a slip."

"Must have." Spyra flicked her claw, like she was trying to rid herself of a booger she'd picked. "…Well! Good news is: I feel ready to take on the world! Thanks for stokin' the fire, babe'."

Taliopia moaned on the floor and her leg twitched, bumping against the arch frame.

"…Been there, baby, been there…" Spyra rolled her eyes, her tail whipping as she rubbed her golden stomach. "…Hey, Fallen? You said I could talk to you about anything, yeah?"

"…Of course." He paused, reaching down for his jumpsuit. "We did just finish having sex. I'm pretty sure the barricades are way down by this point…"

"Y'know I was thinking about where we're going with all this… Off to Warfang, leaving the only land I've ever known since my hatchday, and siding up with the Dragon Realms in this upcoming battle…"

"…Yeah? All things happening, surely…"

"I know I'm rushing into all this, and it's a little late to back down- not that I'm backing down –but, in your opinion, as a competent fighter yourself…" Spyra wormed in the nesting to crane her snout up at him, her eyes gleaming in the morning light. "Do you think I'm ready?"

"I think even if you didn't believe you were, you wouldn't have a choice." He knelt down and pecked her on the nose, before handing her a towel. "But now, you don't have to do this alone. Get ready, I'm going outside for appearance sake."

He stepped over Taliopia and moved into the hallway.

"-Pretend like nothing happened! I'll talk to Taliopia when she wakes up!" –He called to her.

"Well where are yu' goin'?" Spyra yelled, dabbing at the goop gathered in her lap. "Typical male move, dude, fuckin', creamin', leaving the female with the mess!"

"I have to talk to Ignitia!"

"Ha! You should tell her I'm pregnant! Guarantee you she'll scream…" Spyra chuckled as she wiped herself. "…that'd be funny as shit."

Taliopia moaned again and her tail twitched. Spyra looked up and waved a claw at her, going: "Ahhhhhh get over it you'll live" –before tossing a rag at her and getting back to work.


{🐉}

His jumpsuit felt a little loose, but some tugging and yanking fixed that in a jiffy. His skin still felt cool and warm at the same time around his hips and belly, echoing quite pleasant memories that he was forced to suppress lest an unfortunate public after-boner sparked up in the presence of a crowd.

"Mornin' fellas." He waved at Torrdonal and Corrinthol.

"Good morning." Torrdonal awkwardly grinned as the alien passed them. "…Gee', he sure seems in a chipper mood. He must have slept really good."

"Of course the alien slept good, he feeds on terrible environments… like the spawn of evil he really is…" Corrinthol tiredly sipped at an amber-beer cup, slapping his chops with distaste. "-Blegh! Do these dragonflies make anything not overtly sweet?"

"I kind of like it." Torrdonal sipped his own cup. Corrinthol glared.

"Oh yeah? Think about it, Tor', there's a little gold pool of water inside that cup, and it's on your chops."

Torrdonal gasped and dropped his cup, clawing at his face in terror.

"-Water-!" He squawked.

The Fallen didn't have to walk long before finding her. Ignitia was brooding on a hilltop overlooking the village, her eyes locked to the north, in the direction of Forlorn.

As he jogged over, he noticed her amber eyes sweeping the partially cloudy skies above, as if she was willing Cynder to materialize from them and return.

"Ignitia." He called, sidling up behind her.

The great fire dragoness jolted and spun to face him, her wings spread and her tail quite active. A mourning expression was now replaced with a sharp one that he couldn't immediately read.

Was she angry? Surprised?

"I just wanted to speak with you before we-"

"I demand you explain your interactions with Spyra this minute, Fallen."

Ah. Angry it was.

"-Pardon?" He cocked a brow.

"What lies have you filled that young hen's mind with? What have you told her she is to you?" Ignitia loomed closer, teeth exposed in a snarl. "What have you done to my Spyra?"

"Y-Your…?" He shook his head. That was an issue he was unwilling to touch at the moment. "…Listen, Ignitia, I have to respectfully say that what Spyra chooses to do in her private life is strictly her business. But that isn't what I came up here to-"

"Is that what you think are? Some world-hopping mediator who thinks he can judge everyone around him? Make decisions for them? Because they don't know any better, like the primitive buffoons they are?" Ignitia ranted. "You have quite the gall and nerve, human. I cannot take away the great deed you have done for the Dragon Realms by destroying Forlorn, but it does not give you the right to be such a sanctimonious adulterist!"

"A-Adulterist?" He blathered. "Wait just a minute there, I haven't even been given a chance to explain-"

"You're using her!" Ignitia shrieked. "Using such a lonely, hormonal hatchling for your own sick perversions! That's what this is! You- You- rapist!"

"God damn it why do people keep calling me that?!" He barked at the sky, and then turned back to her. "I feel for your loss, truly, I do, I've lost more people than I can count! Young and old! Spyra's egg was supposed to be the daughter you never had! I get it, Ignitia, I understand what you're going through! But for the love of the land, you cannot appoint yourself life-coach. Not to me, not to Spyra! Not to anyone here. Moral policing never works."

"So then what about yourself? You seem so ready to compose the discussion and portray me in the antagonistic light. What about you? Who are you to judge for her, for me? Where my place is, where hers is?" Ignitia stepped dangerously close to him, fire flickering just behind her fangs. Caught in the gray light, wrought with battle-fury and twisted with anger, the Guardian looked strangely beautiful, if not fierce. "You did this back at the tower as well! Trying to redirect my goals! Speaking for my own interests!"

"It's a consul! My own!" The Fallen tapped his chest. "I'm trying to keep you all alive and healthy. Those papers- while, really, I am happy for you that you were able to recover them –were not the priority! And you unnecessarily risked your life for them! The same goes here, you're prodding in a life that is not your own, and I understand why you're doing that, it's because you care for Spyra, you love her as a child, and you're wondering what she is doing with herself. Who is she doing it with? Why?

"So before you start screaming in my face any further, let me just remind you that her interests are also my own, and that I am only risking her life on this journey because the fate of your entire world depends on it! If I had my way, I would pack myself, her and Cyn-"

The Fallen caught himself, breathed, and spoke again.

"-myself and her, and I would rip a portal open back to where I came from. So I could cherish her, and keep her safe and out of harm's way. Because that is what she has become to me, this living being that I strive for. One of many! Call me what you will, but I absolutely refuse to accept the titles of rapist and adulterist. My morals may be up for question, but hell claim me the day I force myself on or manipulate a female for my own ends."

Ignitia was heaving with what was obviously pent-in rage over the last night. She'd probably been up on this hill for a long time, rehearsing her confrontation with him.

"…And for the record," He sighed, deflating his tone. "…I approached you initially seeking to apologize for what I said yesterday. My only concern was preserving life, yours, Spyra's, the whole party. It wasn't because I was trying to enlighten you to some foreign concept of perfection. You were right in seeking those documents, because they are irreplaceable, and they do contain your people's history, and history is important, lest we repeat its low points."

Ignitia opened her mouth, but instead of retorting, offered a snort, and shook her head, stamping to face away from him with an offended growl.

"…And also, I appreciate you looking out for her. So thank you for that."

Ignitia huffed, and lowered the stance of her wings, forcing the anger to drain from her like blood from a wound.

"…I have never been so stressed in my entire life." She quietly admitted. "This war predates my hatchday. By hundreds of years, and yet it feels like the full weight of it is upon this generation's wings. That our decisions are reliant upon the fate of our world, and likewise. I can't even decide what is more important anymore. I feel like my life has become a game of scales. What do I care for just a little less, that I am willing to sacrifice?"

Ignitia smiled sourly before burying it in a frown.

"And after all was said and done: you were correct. The lives of my Wing are more important than the recovery of documents and relics. My mistake was placing priorities in my profession as a historian, and not as a warrior. Right now, the Dragon Realms need more of those than bookkeepers." Ignitia glanced at him. "…Maybe it's fate's workings that such a warrior as yourself was brought to us at the perfect hour. Maybe I am simply envious and unbelieving of that, that a champion for Spyra would come on flames from above."

Yeah, fate's workings… the Fallen glared at the sky for a second before holding a hand out.

"Ignitia, if saving your world is an option to me, then I will take it, with Spyra, with you, with the Wing, and with your people. I just want you to see that I'm on your side."

"Our side and your own." Ignitia stroked one of her facial fins. "You have interests just as all neutral parties do, Fallen. But I am willing to see that with such in mind you still have your priorities linked with ours. I value your addition to the alliance against Malefora."

"Ah, well… good, that that's cleared up." He folded his arms and grinned at her cheaply. "…uhm, lovely day, right?"

"Cynder was able to so effortlessly break my binding seal." Ignitia said. "She has become more powerful since the last I saw of her. You didn't happen to witness her escaping from the thicket?"

"I had just walked in when she broke free." He explained quickly. "She knocked me clear and flew off."

"….Mmmm….." She hummed. "…was that before or after you brought her a platter of food?"

"P-Platter of food? Pfft, what are you talking about-"

Ignitia held up a scorched, dragonfly platter that had been sitting beside her on the edge of the alcove. She wiggled it, black chips falling off from the magical scorching it had taken.

"…I picked this out of the rubble this morning." She explained with a tone of disinterest. "I happen to recall your absence after Morinth was done performing. What were you doing, if not bringing a midnight snack to the enemy?"

"…You're a trip, lady." The Fallen ran a hand through his hair. "We go from blinding rage, to calmness, to accusations… Is it a fire dragon thing?"

"As I said, you have ulterior motives." Ignitia put the platter down and whipped her tail. "Just so you understand, I am aware of them."

"I'm so happy you are." He shrugged, voice turning a bit darker with sarcasm. "We know she's going to her castle to regather her strength. In Concurrent Skies."

"What do you know of the Concurrent?" Ignitia shook her head. "That is a realm far more hostile and unknown than these swamps. You'll seldom find threats from giant insects or Toadworts in its crystalline caverns and snowy wastes… all of that is assuming you can ever get through the gigantic, damned magical storm that's been raging around the islands for over a thousand years."

"I never said I devised a plan, I just have a location." He shrugged again. "For what little consolation you'll accept, I highly doubt Cynder will be able to move for a good while after such a defeat. I mean, Visigoth's whole tribe got iced in a single-"

"-Wooo-! Lookout!"

Pnnchhh~! –something smacked off the back of the Fallen's head, knocking him over, and startling Ignitia.

A tumble of limbs and the thud of a draconic body later, the Fallen shook his head and made to stand up, but paused when he found his palms sinking into something very warm, soft and scaly.

He looked down and Ignitia looked back up at him.

She must've scrambled and landed on her back, and he had followed. The stinging pain where he'd been hit in the back of the head was forgotten.

"…Actually," The Fallen inhaled deeply. "you do really smell like cinnamon."

"Ugh~!" Ignitia kicked him in the gut and sent him tumbling, righting herself with a pattern of huffs and snarls. She hadn't been quick enough, however, and the damage had been done.

The Guardian gasped as unexplainable sensations broiled in her limbs and nested in her hips.

Oh no.

She shivered and curled her tail around herself, frightened at the feelings flooding her veins. She glared at the Fallen, and then at the thing that had hit him.

It was a… wooden disk.

"Sorreh abou that one, Master, I was tryin to play frizzbee with Meep!" Palmet scurried over and snatched the makeshift toy off the ground. Nearby, Meep squeaked and hopped on his tentacles, holding two up in a catching motion. "-Dawwww! Ain't he just a beautiful little fing? I nevva really undastood how peepol lived without burnin stuff and stealin valuables, but I gotta say, this urban lifestyle ain't half bad-"

The Fallen stomped over and backhanded him across the jaw. There was a crack! –and Palmet staggered back with a yowl.

"Strike me with your frizzbee again, and I'll break a foot off in your ass, butler." The Fallen growled.

"S-Sure fing, Master." Palmet righted his jaw and rolled it a few times. "…Huh, don't feel that much different from when the Mistress wuz in charge. Goody! At least my schedule's back in right order!"

"…Anyway, what were you saying?" The Fallen rubbed his head and looked at Ignitia.

"We're leaving." She snarled, tearing away and stomping back towards the village. "And I'm not carrying you on my back to get there."


{🐉}

Even if Torrdonal or Corrinthol could have dealt with the Fallen's weight, she doubted either of them would have accepted the charge. Morinth couldn't do it either, though her emerald eyes experienced a strange glazed-over look when she was asked.

"…I-I might give it some thought if'n it was in my ability…" She stammered, Ignitia gawking at the flush on her snout.

But then again, the very mention of him gave her… feelings too.

Oh Ancestors.

No wonder Cynder had fled without exacting revenge on them all. The Fallen was a curse, corrupting every female dragon he touched. The poor Guardian- in addition to everything else straining her mind –was now stricken with shivers and twitchy behavior ever since he'd collapsed onto her.

She envied Spyra when she revealed herself almost an hour later from her family thicket, blessed with a warm and wide smile and the most relaxed demeanor Ignitia had ever witnessed.

"You okay, Ignitia?" Spyra had blinked when Ignitia started to twitch.

"F-Fine." The Guardian quietly quipped through grit fangs. "How about yourself?"

"Peachy like a plum~." Spyra sighed dreamily, itching at something on her waist. "What's for breakfast? I'm starved."

Ignitia quietly suffered as they scarfed down more dragonfly food. She barely touched anything of her own, her eyes constantly darting on the growing array of things brewing internal strife within her heart.

The Fallen, uncomfortably meeting her glares with pathetic attempts at occasional smiles as he ate. Spyra- her hatchling –stuffing her purple face full of berries and juice as she went on and on about how amazing the battle yesterday was. Ignitia's face looked like ice as she forced herself to nibble on an apple. Eventually, trying to mentally strangle or mind-erase half the people around her proved too ineffective, and so she resorted to simply staring at the clouds, wishing Cynder would come back so that she could kill the corrupted 'ness in an extremely painful way.

She cowed herself for how she was thinking. She was by far not a violent individual, and yet right now, she couldn't think of anything but violence. She was so angry. So confused.

All in the span of two days: she'd been irresponsible, her hatchling had been… whatever she had been by the Fallen, and the Fallen had also at least colluded in a culinary way with the enemy! For all Ignitia knew, it had been the human's doing, the erasure of her warding spell and the snapping of Cynder's binds!

He could be a traitor…

Ignitia probably resembled a scheming, deranged hermit with the kind of death-glare she was shooting at the human.

A traitor who has infected me with some magical ward of his own! One I can't break…

Ignitia's jaw quivered as she bit her apple in half, and chewed with her mouth open.

I'm too fuckin' old for all this nonsense.

"Has anyone seen Tali'?" Morinth swallowed a mouthful of berries and looked around. "She was up earlier this morning…"

"-She took a nap." The Fallen held a finger up, startling Torrdonal beside him with how loud and quick he jumped to the fore. Ignitia narrowed her eyes and scorched the remains of her apple mid-swallow as fire brewed in her throat. "She was exhausted from last night apparently, having cuddled too many dragonflies."

"Oh, that cheeky girl." Morinth hummed musingly. "She's not needed on the outing, is she, mam'?"

"Noooooo…."

Everyone stared at Ignitia, even Corrinthol, who let a rogue berry slip from his mouth.

The Guardian had sounded like a snake.

"Damn." Spyra grinned, eating another wad of berries. "Way ta' get your battle-lust up, Ignitia. If there's anything in those ruins, we'll scare it to death before we even touch it!"

The Fallen made a noise halfway between a laugh and a cough, and then downed an entire pitcher of juice.

"…I know there's something going on, actually a lot of things going on here…" Corrinthol picked up a pear and pointed around the gathering with its stem. "…It's just a good thing it's all so beneath me that I don't care."

W-pshkkk~! –Palmet's frizzbee bounced off the back of the fire drake's head sharply, followed by a distant apology from the Ape himself.

Spyra shot cranberry juice from her nose and rolled on the ground cackling like a madwoman.

"Uhm…. Wingleader? Are you okay?" Torrdonal asked, concerned.

"I'm quite okay." Ignitia laughed, startling him. "Quite okay."

"So who's going to carry the Fallen?" Morinth hummed as she ate. "None of us can do it, we're only a little bigger than him anyway."

"Well, the Wingleader is the largest matriarch in the Wing." Torrdonal helpfully suggested.

Ignitia shot fire from her nostrils and scorched a fern.

"We're leaving!" She belted. "I said so an hour ago and all of you sat down to eat breakfast! For some of you: second breakfast! We are now marching, flying, as an order!"

"Right-O, mam'!" Morinth sprung up like a jackrabbit. "Let me just get my tail-blade, can't go into a fight underprepared."


{🐉}

The Fallen felt like he was riding on an iceberg, which was strange given Ignitia's natural element…

The Guardian was rigid with every wing flap, dive and ascent, and her spine felt like it had been locked down over a steel bar. The human clung to her neck, eyes examining the passing swamp beneath both of them with steady interest.

This wasn't his first airborne sweep by far. There had been a world before this one that had ironed any possible fear of heights from him over a prolonged and grueling adventure in and of itself. Besides, Ignitia wasn't even flying that high in comparison.

He considered trying to converse with her during the periods where the draft was low enough that his shouting could be heard. But he took one look at the very angry expression on the side of Ignitia's snout and decided against it.

After all, he'd just started touching her this morning…

He knew how that went for her people.

After some time, they encroached upon a noticeably empty-looking sort of clearing.

The flattened mounds of rubble marking Forlorn's corpse came into view, hills of wreckage permeated with the occasional still standing buttress and a lowly crackling fire.

The Fallen blinked, astonished. From above, it was revealed that the entire plateau stack Forlorn had been built into had… cracked. The very landscape looked broken in some places, and some of the natural step levels had tumbled over one another.

The flight of dragons landed in a clearer span of debris, Ignitia angrily rolling her wing joints and smacking him in the back and shoulders.

"Get off please." She grunted. He silently obeyed.

"I like the redecoration." Spyra flexed her wings, shooting a toothy grin around. "Has more of a crumbled sort of flavor to it."

"We're clear over here." Corrinthol grumbled, coming around from a mound of bricks.

"This side is clear too!" Torrdonal called.

"No movement, mam'." Morinth hopped over the rough terrain like a gazelle through rocks, and trotted up to Ignitia. "I found the remains of the stairwell chute. It's partially buried, but I think there's a way we can squeeze inside."

The remains of the observatory were the cap sealing the center of the site in. It resembled a cracked series of dome sections, embedded in the refuse. The party was able to slip between two busted stone slabs that had once been Forlorn's roof and ended up inside the shaded hold within.

The air in here was cool and a ghostly moan sounded out in tune with a breeze passing through all the stonework.

"I can't see anything." Corrinthol complained.

"Let me find a makeshift torch, I can-" Morinth was cut off when a flicker rang out and the dark became illuminated amber.

The Fallen had lit the end of a board aflame with some flint he'd stolen off an Ape. He gestured ahead with a nod.

"Onwards." He grinned.

The ruins created an arachnid triangle over a gaping trench descending wrecked rows of stairs. Evidently, the chute had come apart but hadn't caved in the majority of the lower skeletal structure. They could only hope the catacomb tunnels had faired similarly.

It was otherworldly, navigating the torchlit detritus. Snapped pillars, broken buttresses and twisting chunks of wall created a strange network of shapes everywhere for the light to play off, giving likeness to an odd, but massive piece of abstractionist artwork.

"Watch out." The Fallen grunted, catching Spyra when she tripped over a step that had been carved away.

"Nothing could've survived this." Corrinthol complained the whole way down, until they reached the base of the stairs. "If that pool isn't in fifty pieces, I'll be shocked. My father's got access to the best engineers in Warfang, so I got his eye to go off of."

"If you keep flapping your fangs like that, you might just annoy the dead enough so that they rise up and kill us." Morinth sighed. "But putting aside the peanut-gallery and its carefully considered hunches… I remember this hallway. The slave pit is just down there, and the Vision Pool chamber is beyond it."

"Is it Portal or Vision?" The Fallen absently asked.

"Interchangeable." Ignitia said, refusing to look at him. "In ages past, it depended on who you asked. Central Realmers viewed them more as Visionary Pools. Southerners and far West Coasterner dragons saw them more as Portals. Seeing as I am of Warfangian heartland descent, I call them Vision Pools."

"I haven't seen one of those since the academy." Said Morinth. "Too bad the only one I get to go near after all these years could possibly bewitch me and all that hubbub."

"When you all say pool…" Torrdonal narrowed his eyes. "…Y-You don't mean that there's water in it?"

"Oh, so much water. A lake's worth." Corrinthol snapped. Torrdonal's shriek echoed around the halls as he hid behind a masonry chunk.

"Eew." Spyra crinkled her nose as they passed some dead Apes, many of whom had been pancaked underneath falling debris. They smelled horrendous. "The inhabitants don't look any better than we left 'em."

"I'm not worried about Apes." Ignitia whispered as they passed through another dark frame. "I'm worried about that."

The Fallen's makeshift torch was no longer needed just up ahead, for the chamber beyond was already lit with an eerie, purple glow.

There was the Pool, ringed by some debris, but otherwise unscathed.

Frizsocket, Corrinthol, everyone else had been wrong. Ignitia knew it.

The Pool was brewing with swirling, pulsating, glowing dark purple energy inside its depths. It slugged around inside the rim like syrupy stew, meshed with glowing veins of pink magma and black blood.

"Does that mean it's active?" The Fallen cautiously stepped forward. "How close can we get to it without risk of something happening?"

"It is very active, no doubt being Malefora's eyes to observe all she has lost firstclaw." Ignitia growled, moving for the center of the chamber, bricks clattering past her paws. "Speak Dark One, I know you watch us."

"No way, I get these sorta' feelings in my tail, and if that crazy bitch were here I'd-" Spyra jumped when a deep, thrumming voice echoed around the room.

"Hello Ignitia, have you come to rub dirt in the wound?"

"…Well," Morinth gawked. "crap."

The Pool's interior pulsed with each word, otherworldly mist bubbling up to gather in the air just above it.

"What made you investigate a pile of rock? You already killed all of my Apes here, slew the mighty Chieftain and drove away my creation… I needn't remind you that while this is a victory for you, it is small and easily rectified."

"Stop." Ignitia waved a paw dismissively, the air crackling as a magical band of glowing fire suddenly appeared and began to surround the whole party, floating around them like a colossal, flickering halo. The Pool pulsated brighter for a minute, and a wet gurgle of snarls echoed from its heart.

"Your magic couldn't hold Cynder, what makes you think it could hold me?"

"All one can do is try and hope." Ignitia honestly stated, face grim. "You have made Cynder so powerful in so short a time, even you can't admit what she's become. Try my barrier, give me a sample of the Dark Mistress' reach, if you'd please."

Malefora gave off an unnaturally loud and sounding screech. The Pool pulsed again, brighter this time, and Ignitia's fiery ring flashed and shivered. Corrinthol screamed and hid behind Torrdonal.

"Bah~! I have no strength to divert for such petty grievances…"

"I knew something was wrong last night. Cynder's mutations… they're growing." Ignitia hummed, quirking an eye at the Pool. "At least show us your beautiful face, so you may be present for my own commentary."

A broiling cloud of vaporous color slithered over the brim and spread across the floor between them and the Pool's dais ring.

After a series of thunderous crashes and flickers of light, the whole party was blinded in a second-long flash, and when they returned their gazes….

There stood a large, Purple Dragoness, and it wasn't Spyra.

"Is this better?" Malefora sounded almost nothing like her ethereal tone. She sounded…

Sexy, the Fallen blinked.

Like a self-assured bitch, Spyra squinted.

"Ignitia, you ask and I shall honor it, foe to foe… here I am." Malefora had a face that looked like it was comprised entirely of blades. Her cheekplates were sharpened, as was a pair of crowned horns and jaw thorns. Angular was her expression around slopes of armored scale. Twin amber eyes pulsed crimson light, each centered with a serpent's iris that dilated in interest with each face it fell upon.

Her body was colossal, easily the size of a bison, by the Fallen's own terms. She was two times the height of even Ignitia, who was the biggest dragon in the party. Chords of muscle made up her physique, with painfully thin limbs, a defined breast and agonizingly plump hips. Malefora was athletic, conniving, and blessed with a pair of bladed, huge, deep purple wings that were folded quaintly behind her thorned neck.

"Is that all your warband can offer me are stares?" Malefora smiled, rows of razor-sharp teeth glinting past her thick lower chop. The Fallen saw her tongue for a second. It was even longer than Cynder's, like a whole snake was living inside her mouth…

The poor human was quivering as his eyes drank in Malefora's mutated form from her talontips to her snout.

"T-The Dark One…" Morinth stammered, stepping back to the very limits of Ignitia's protective fire ring, her emerald eyes widened with growing terror.

"Do not step from the ring!" Ignitia snapped. "All of you! If you are outside of it, I cannot protect you from her."

"You couldn't even protect us from Cynder!" Corrinthol cried from behind Torrdonal. "We're all gonna' die because you're just a cheap magician!"

"Cynder has become so powerful that she is freeing herself from Malefora's control, even her powers could not keep her contained. And you'll suffer the consequences of that insult when it is due." Ignitia calmly said, turning back to Malefora. "Your grip on the south is wrested, witch. All you have left is your Pool."

"My Pool, and the assurance of a standstill." Malefora's eyes flexed with daring. "Your powers are worthless outside your little ring, and mine inside it. Unless you plan on standing here all day, my dear Guardian… It appears we are at an impasse."

The Dark One flickered her gaze to each member of the group in turn.

"…Look at this interesting little assortment you've brought me. Let's see…"

Morinth made a choking sound as a pair of snake-irises locked onto her. The magical impact was immediate, the poor dragoness suffering the worst effects of Fear swimming inside her guts.

"Your name, my fair hen is… Morinth, yes, the half-breed prodigy result of one of my less scrupulous Night Dragon warriors. Born with nothing, whose life anchors on assuring herself how far she's come. You are entirely too vulnerable to ever hope to overcome me."

She looked at Torrdonal and Corrinthol, a little laugh slipping through her fangs.

"Need I even say it? A water dragon terrified of his own element, and a narcissist who can't outsmart himself."

Torrdonal shivered violently, and Corrinthol squeaked like a mouse.

Next, Ignitia.

"So lost in your past age, Guardian Ignitia, trying to revive a time that has long since been murdered and is never coming back. You are just as pathetic as when I left you in Avalar years ago."

Finally…

"…Now here is the really interesting duo of the hour. The Fallen, Warfang's Champion from the sky, and Spyra, the Purple Dragon." Malefora licked her teeth, the purple glow in the room flexing between shades of pitch-black as she took a step closer, making Ignitia's fire-ring flare loudly. "One mind is much easier to pick apart than the other…"

"Yeah, I know, I got style." Spyra grinned snarkily, stepping forwards without an ounce of fear.

"I was talking about the tall one."

"…" Spyra looked back at the Fallen with an angry, dumbfounded sort of face. He could only shrug.

"The evil villain said it, not me." He muttered.

"…Yeah, well, hear me out, one Purple Dragoness to another." Spyra sneered at Malefora. "I'm coming for you as soon as I'm done kicking Cyndy-Pindy's ass, and there isn't anything you got that can stop me."

"Isolated, the only one of your kind even among your own species, soon to be betrayed by those you hold dearest…" Malefora tiredly listed off. "You and I are nothing but history's echoes. I'm just wondering how long it is going to take you to understand that this world is not worth saving. Once you get to Warfang, take a long look around. Spend a day in the real outside world… I'll talk to you again when you've gotten the right idea about what it is this… pretender," She gestured a tailtip to Ignitia. "-is asking you to lay down your life for. The prophecies she has lied to you about are false, and have never made any sense, even hundreds of years ago when the Guardians tried to convince me of them."

"How old are you?" Spyra blinked.

"Very old." Malefora grinned. "Why do you think I command the power of a mountain?"

"I dunno', why don't you ever show up and use that power? Instead of sending out armies of shag-rugs like Visi-gay and his motley band of furry sluts to do your dirty work? You look like an ugly coward to me. And by the way? I've seen better-manicured talons on hogs. The hell do you use as a polisher? A fucking plank of balsa wood? Forget Cynderella, you should be executing your stylist and comin' back when you're actually dressed for the occasion, you short wit, dumbass ho'."

Even Malefora's jaw dropped.

"You… purple bitch." She sneered in the coming silence, the Pool roaring behind her as astral fire billowed in fury past its brim. "I'm going to incinerate you."

"…Wait a second."

The Fallen stepped beside Ignitia, and reached down to pick up a rock. He chucked it at Malefora, grunting when it phased through her and clattered off the Pool's side.

"I knew it."

"Malefora would never bring herself so far away from her home like this." Ignitia shook her head. "But do not underestimate her projection. Though it is an illusion, it still commands her great powers as if she were here."

"Come out from that ring, human!" Malefora's voice echoed, like there were ten of her speaking at once. "Let me flay you alive and make Spyra watch as her chosen mate is tortured to a slow, agonizing death!"

"What'd she say?" Corrinthol peered from over Torr's wing.

"Oh for god's sake," Spyra barked. "-me and the Fallen are fucking! F.U.C.K.I.N.G. There! It's out! Everyone knows now! I'm getting tired of this ring-around-the-rosy melodrama shit!"

"…I can't believe the rest of you hadn't worked that out…" Morinth blushed, pawing at the floor. "Cynder was right, imbeciles, cheeky that."

"Where's Palmet to be funny when you n-need him…" Torrdonal stammered. "I don't want to die!"

"We're not going to die." The Fallen growled. "Ignitia, how long can you keep that ring up?"

The Guardian glanced at Malefora.

"For a substantial time." She raised a brow. "Why?"

"Oh yes! I've been hearing so much about this Fallen the last few evenings, how he is unassailable, a fearsome melee combatant and a master strategist! Prove it, you little shit." Malefora sneered. "No male could ever surpass me."

The Fallen paused…

"…Oh," He sneered. "so that's your angle, huh?"

"Heel and die!"

"Feminazis." He grunted. "Even across dimensions, I keep finding them. Time for another stamping-out I say."

Ignitia gasped as the Fallen stepped forwards and through the protective ring! It flashed briefly as he appeared on the other side, eyes locked with Malefora's.


{Dragon Age Inquisition OST: The Battle for Haven}


"Wait a minute! We can't enact a plan without someone telling me!" Spyra shrieked. "Son of a bitch, I'm literally out of the loop!"

"You'll know what to do!" The Fallen ripped a stick of dynamite from his bandolier and drew a blade. "Malefora, fight me!"

The Dark One sneered and hunched, her massive wings spreading with a crack of thunder that shook the whole chamber. Projection or not, she sure felt real enough.

"Give me your mind." Malefora's eyes began to glow an arterial crimson. The Fallen had just struck the fuse when he began to double over, a pained groan forcing itself through his teeth. "Let me pick apart your little soul and be the first dragon to kill one of your kind. I have already seen who you are. You are even weaker than Cynder."

The Fallen fell to a knee as unnatural energies created a hurricane inside his mind. His body was out of his own control. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, and all he could hear were Malefora's whispers.

Spyra had already leaped through the ring, bolts of electricity springing from her mouth and stabbing into Malefora's form. The Dark One chuckled as the elemental attacks slipped through her and out the other side, like she was a ghost.

"Such a brash little creature." She murmured, gaze only briefly flickering from the suffering Fallen to her. "I was much the same when I was that young."

Spyra spread her wings and darted for Malefora's throat with an angry cry. An invisible bubble of energy flickered purple and sent her flipping back the way she'd come.

"However, back then I wasn't going against a goddess." Malefora flexed her tail, and a bolt of white lightning crossed the distance and connected with Spyra while she was trying to get up. The purple dragoness trailed soot as she sailed across the chamber and crashed into a stone wall, shattering it in a plume of dust and debris. "That is where you and I differ with our own plights. No one was there to help me with mine though, either."

Malefora snarled when a flash of orange light blinded her. Ignitia's ring had burst, and a broiling, small sun was born just above the Guardian's horns. Ignitia's face was taut with concentration as she channeled the magical flare to the very roof of the chamber. The ball of white light glared and Malefora cried as her own links to her abilities weakened.

"Using trickery as usual I see!"

The Fallen- in his last movements as he collapsed forward –tossed the dynamite in his grip, and it landed directly beside the Pool.

Bang~! –the explosion shook the whole chamber. Malefora screamed as half the brazier rim was shattered, its pieces flying through the scorched plume the explosive created. Her projection flickered.

"The Pool! Smash the Pool!" Ignitia shouted. Another band of lightning crashed into her chest, and the Guardian snapped a solid stone pillar in two as she slammed right through its midsection.

Corrinthol- surprisingly –flapped his wings to cross the distance, roaring fire blew out of his mouth in a brilliant copper cone that washed over Malefora's body.

The Dark One's wings preened and all the flames vanished in a minute cough. Malefora swatted at him, and Corrinthol slid across the ground before hitting a rubble pile. Torrdonal hit her with a water-blast that similarly did nothing. He ate a lightning bolt and planted through the rim of an arch painfully.

"Weaklings!" Malefora screamed.

All at once, all three dragon soldiers, Ignitia and Spyra tore themselves from the debris, bathing Malefora in cones of fire, water and slashes from their claws and tail blades.

Malefora's form flickered with each attack but emerged without any sort of marks or damage completely. She sent a dragon cartwheeling through the air with each bat of her wing, paw or tail.

The Fallen leapt into the fray from her flank with a deafening cry, dicing a pair of Ape blades at her. The steel passed through her throat, her ribs and her leg all without effect. Malefora opened her mouth, and the Fallen went airborne as a ball of energy exploded underneath his feet.

"You should've stayed in your little ring, magician."

Ignitia screamed as her next attack was interrupted mid-air, and she began to levitate in the center of the chamber. Malefora's eyes flexed and crimson energy started to swim around the Guardian's head, filling her mind with every single nightmare, inner fear and terror she had ever experienced. The Guardian could do nothing but wail under the horrific assault as she writhed and twisted, like someone was ripping out her guts through her mouth.

"What fascinates me about dragons, is that none of them seem to understand that they are my playthings. All of you were born with the purpose of serving me in my hours of needful entertainment. It is why I butcher you with such fervor: to claim my rightful throne as goddess of this world. Your lives, your battles, your accomplishments and your souls are tattered strips of nothingness on the wind. When I kill all of you, no one will ever remember you existed. I will erase you."

Spyra and Morinth assaulted in one fluid motion, bolts of electricity and reams of fire washed over the Pool, chipping stone and scorching the brazier.

Malefora howled as her projection's physical form jittered and twitched, like a computer screen suffering a poor connection, the Fallen observed.

The Dark One saw Spyra vanish in a burst of light that shattered the floor and ripped up the set stone in ragged banners. She turned on Morinth, and swiped with the sharp point of one of her wings.

The black dragoness had been in the process of trying to roll from the blow's path. She was too slow, and the sound of her flesh tearing echoed around the whole chamber.

Crawling from the rubble, the Fallen felt his heart drop into his feet when he saw the black dragoness flip listlessly away from the battle. She hit one of the stair flights and rolled down it like a ragdoll, settling at the base with a final toss. Her eyes were peacefully closed, and rich, draconic blood poured from a trench wrought through her belly, speedily creating a puddle.

"If the Fallen hadn't corrupted Cynder, none of you would have ever have had a hope in stopping my operations here!" Malefora shrieked. "Cynder was too powerful, I am too powerful! I'm going to kill every last one of you!"

Lightning shot out and took another chunk off the Pool. Malefora flinched, her wings spreading out to steady herself. Ignitia dropped to the floor.

"-Hit it!" Spyra blubbered, clawing out from the last pile of rocks she'd been buried in. One of her eyes was swelled shut, and she was drooling blood. "Hit the damned thing!"

Ignitia stumbled to her paws, and bounded forward.

"Ignitia!" The Fallen called, lighting another dynamite stick, before he hurled at her. "Catch!"

Ignitia jumped, dodging one of Malefora's clumsily aimed tail swipes. She caught the dynamite in her mouth, bounding for the Pool like a horse.

As she passed along its flank, she spat the explosive right into the swirling Convexity energies brewing inside. Malefora's defiant scream was silenced when the Pool imploded.

Banngg~! –the Pool and the dais underneath it shattered in a violent blast of soot and purple fire. Malefora's projection reared back its head, an unnatural, echoing screech deafening all of them until with a last crack of thunder, she vanished and plunged the chamber into darkness.

"…I-Is everyone alright?" Ignitia's voice weakly panted out.

"I think I found a torch!" Torrdonal proclaimed. There was a slight whoosh and a bloom of amber light, revealing where Corrinthol had lit the discarded sconce held in Torrdonal's claw. "Are you okay, Corrinthol?"

"I-I think so." The flame dragon stuttered, his ankles shivering and clacking together.

"I can't feel my legs…" Spyra grumbled, limping down a stair flight to stand beside Ignitia. "…Actually, I don't think I can feel my anything. Must mean I'm not that hurt or I'm near death. How do I look?"

Ignitia grimaced at the bloodied expression on the purple dragon's face.

"…It's nothing medical treatment won't fix." She supportively grinned.

"Aw hell, is it that bad?" Spyra spat blood and rubbed at her eye, hissing when she touched it. "It's that bad."

"No!"

They all looked at the Fallen, who was knelt over Morinth on the other side of the chamber. Spyra gasped, and all the other dragons hobbled over with haste.

"What's wrong with her-?" Spyra saw Morinth's belly hanging open, like a crimson, leathery flap pouch left ajar. "-Fallen, use the injection things!"

"….I…" The Fallen heaved as he held up one of the regen-injectors. It was empty. "…I'm all out."

"Oh no, nonononono…" Ignitia scrambled to lean over Morinth and press a paw over her ribs. The black dragoness looked serenely at rest, and did not even twitch. The Guardian mumbled some words, and soon tiny ribbons of amber energy were swirling around Morinth's body. "...h-healing spell…" –She blubbered when some of them looked on in confusion. "…Morinth… you need to wake up, Morinth."

Spyra sat on the ground and started chewing on a talon. Morinth's face was so calm for how her body looked, streamed with cuts, bruises and her own blood. Her beautiful gunmetal belly was gaping, her dark wings draped like old parchment, her emerald eyes sealed behind black lids. She wondered how someone normally so cheery could so... so...

The Fallen tripped as he tumbled back, the injector tinkling away on the ruined stone. He could do nothing but grip his own head and stare as the blood puddle started to leak around all the other dragons' paws.

Ignitia ignored it, her forepaws glistening with Morinth's life as she tapped at the dragoness' snout, tears falling from her in rivers.

"Morinth!" She screamed.

….Nothing happened.

Torrdonal gagged and ran away. Corrinthol was staring at a wall, his face unreadable. Ignitia looked like a statue, frozen in a hunched pose over the limp, dark form of Morinth's slender body, whispers of begging even leaving her in the developing stillness.

The Fallen couldn't take his eyes off her, only doing so when he noticed Spyra shivering directly beside him. Bloodied herself, and completely covered in lacerations, the purple dragon tried to contain herself as long as possible, to look strong, as she bit her chops raw.

Finally, with a strangled cry she threw herself into the Fallen's chest and started sobbing. That was the only thing ringing in his ears, the horrid gasps of his dragon, and the trickling whisper of Morinth's blood filling all the gaps in the floor.

Ah yes, there it was. The repeating pattern of a portaljumper who gets involved with the locals.

Pain.

Lust.

Joy.

Difficulty.

Loss.


{🐉}