Chapter 2: The Tavern Surprise

Nightmares of burning rooftops falling on top of him jerked Balian from his slumber. He sat up, taking a deep breathe. A warm breeze ruffled his long brown hair, lifting it from mid-neck to behind his head. It also made him aware of his clothes being wet, half due to morning dew, half due to cold sweat.

"Good morning," The Dark Dragon said.

"Good morning," Balian answered, though to him, it was a lie. Those dreams had very much reminded him of the fresh death of his parents.

"Your parents died to prevent becoming monsters, they did the right thing," The Dark Dragon said.

"Perhaps, but mourning loved ones is something all humans do," Balian said. Without another word, he activated the spirit that now resided in his left eye's place. A black smoke poured from the cracks in his mask, wrapped around his head, and around the mask itself.

Then, from the smoke, a dim, indigo light shimmered. The smoke tripled, then quadrupled in size. It condensed insanely dense around his vitals, then took on designs that had once held some elegance. Now, they were corrupt, dangerous and sporadic, like the infection within him.

There was still a large jewel in the center, but the reptilian slit was vacant. He looked to his wings, relaxing at his sides. There were more joints, and they looked much more menacing than they had before.

Balian felt his face, and frowned as his fingers ran across the now horned mask. He felt the armor shift to resemble a frown, and then raise with his real eyebrow in shock.

He shook the surprise away, and regained his composure. This was him now. No changing it for the better. In one beat of his now bat-like wings, he was thrown into the sky.

He knew that Albert had helped his father build the fortress of the Divine Dragon's spirit, so if there was a record of how to get there, and how to enter, it would be in Bale, which was Northwest of him. It would take several days of flight to get there, so haste in departure was vital.

The day was obviously a silent one. Balian knew that the Dark Dragon could make conversation about Rose, and their journeys over the millennia, but he wasn't interested in talking. When the sun began to set, he set down outside of a young village, called Lestrowe. He'd been there as a young boy, but had few memories of the place. He returned to his human form, strapped his blades to his belt, and adjusted his mask.

He walked into the city, instantly seeing – and smelling – why he had no recollection of the place. Lestrowe was a visible cesspool of disgust, and rank with odors of activities that could not be described as acceptable anywhere on the continent. No doubt when they visited in Balian's earlier years he was not allowed anywhere near these extreme distastes. Balian held his breathe and paced through the streets and into the first tavern that looked closest to inviting.

As he opened the doors a wave of air, filled with sounds of booming laughter blew around Balian, and quickly subsided, as he stepped in. No one took a second look at him. To them he was just another traveler in search of a little ale.

Balian sat down at the bar and looked around. It was a big place, with many round tables lit by thing amber lamps above the centers. Almost every chair was filled, mostly by men, but there was still an undeniable presence of women.

Balian knocked on the bar, and to his surprise a tall, pompous looking Wingly strode over to him.

"What'll it be?" he asked.

It took Balian a moment to recover from the shock of a Wingly in the company of so many humans. Yet he answered, "Some good, strong ale, please."

"Two Gold," he said, extending his hand.

Balian placed the money in his hand and stopped the Wingly before turning. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice the stage in the center. Does this tavern play music?"

"Yeh, it does, you want to hear some?" the Wingly asked.

"Please, whatever you think is best," Balian answered.

"Comin' right up," the Wingly said. When he turned, Balian saw that he had obviously been drinking quite a bit, for he stumbled.

"Tatyana! The man wants some music! Get up there and earn!" He bellowed stupidly.

To Balian's initial shock, another surprise was added. A Wingly girl floated over the tables and sat down onto the stage. She wore a gray skirt, with a silver tank top on over a black leotard. Her beauty was stunning, but then she strummed the harp strapped to a thin guard on her left arm.

Balian's jaw dropped as soft notes floated sweetly from her mouth. Her hand slid across the harp like a humming bird sipping nectar from some beautiful flower. He couldn't understand the words she was singing, because they were in her own tongue. Yet he, and every other person in the tavern felt entranced by the beauty of her voice.

However, the euphoria was interrupted by a crash. The bartender threw his fist down on the table.

"Woman! I told you! Never sing that song!" He threw a glass at her, nearly hitting her in the shoulder.

"Hey!" Balian shouted, instantly on his feet. The thought of a man abusing a woman was disgusting to him. However, before he could do anything else, the Wingly was in the air and on his way to the stage, where Tatyana sat cowering in fear. Balian could only think of one thing to do.

In an indigo flash, his armor was on him, and he dove through the air and placed two blade tips on the back of the Wingly's neck just as he grabbed Tatyana's wrist.

"Don't move," Balian said.

The Wingly spun around, looking fierce, until he realized that the person threatening him was a Dragon Knight. His fiery eyes suddenly shone bright with shock and fear. He did as he was told.

Suddenly, Balian heard a very distant noise. He intensified his hearing, waiting to hear it if it sounded out again. The voice didn't belong to The Dark Dragon, he was being silent, but Balian could feel him smirking. Suddenly the noise came again, it was definitely reptilian.

Suddenly it hit him like a mallet to the chest. The voice cried out "Her!" It was the spirit of the Red Eyed Dragon. It was speaking through the armor to Balian.

Slowly, he sheathed one blade, keeping the other at the Wingly's throat, and dug his hand under his armor slowly, into a pocket until his fingers found an object that felt like a large marble.

As soon as he drew the spirit out it flew at Tatyana. It landed in her hand and exploded into flame that was so intense that it forced the Wingly bartender to abandon his fear of Balian's blade, and flee to cooler temperatures. Balian took a few steps back as well, and watched the flame course up her arms, as she cried out in shock and leapt into the air, but the fires kept engulfing her.

Finally, she was just a ball of flame, with a white hot center, shining bright. Then, the fire shrunk from the front of her torso, and behind her, where it seemed to stay. The Wingly girl's new armor was breath taking.

There was a green eye in the center of her breasts, that immediately blinked, and looked around. The armor was wrapped tightly around her petite form, and rose above the back of her shoulders, giving the appearance of a brace of pointy fingers. Under them, her wings-which usually would have been composed of magical light- pumped out the same raging fire that had engulfed her instead. Her pauldrons were small, covering not far outside her small shoulders, and her gauntlets ran halfway up her arm.

The harp that she had carried was transformed as well. It looked to be wrapped in Dragon scales as well, as if it were an unorthodox shield. It certainly didn't look like a musical instrument anymore. In her right hand a jeweled scimitar had appeared, with a hilt in the shape of flames. The leg guards were like thigh high boots, that were interrupted by the waist guards, which wrapped around her like a knee length skirt.

But the oddest thing about her armor was that she too had a face guard, over the lowest part of her face, with a screen made of red tendrils over the mouth. The piece was carved to look like an open mouth. It ran up the side of her head and connected with the headband, and her long silver hair flowed around it all, and fell down safely between the wings of fire.

For a moment of pure amazement, the entire town seemed to have gone silent to watch what was happening in the tavern. Tatyana was looking herself over, completely distraught. "What happened?" She yelped, but behind her voice was the low rumble of a raging fire, with cracks and pops. It was a strange mixture, yet curiously beautiful next to her own voice.

"What did you do?" The Wingly man bellowed to Tatyana. All eyes turned to him, red with rage. He pointed a shaking finger toward her. "You turn back now!" Then he pointed to Balian. "Take that and get out!"

"Erroune! No!" Tatyana bellowed, fiercely. Her wings pumped out flames, catching the tops of tables that had long ago been abandoned aflame. "I am not your servant, and now, with this, I no longer have to fear you!"

Balian nodded to her, and turned to the Wingly. However, he was shocked to see a symbol glowing on his forehead. His hands began glowing, and he threw a beam of light at Tatyana.

Again, all were shocked, as Tatyana drew the hilt of her sword across the harp, and the jewel belched out a pillar of flame to collide with the attack. Balian filled one of his blades with dark power and threw it to the collision, and with it broke, called the blade back, grabbed Tatyana, and took to the skies with her.

When they were a safe distance away, Balian turned to her. "Are you okay?"

She looked a little confused, and tired, but she nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Author's Note: I am SOOOOO sorry this took so long! I got the worst writer's block ever, but here it is, Chapter Three. I hope you guys aren't mad. Please tell me what you think, I'd appreciate it, later!