Disclaimer: I do not own Slayers. I likely never will, but that doesn't mean I don't hold out hope. I will, however, use the wonderful world that is Slayers to further develop my plans for a Totalitarian Regime in which I am Supreme Overlord of Your Plan—Oops, what I meant was, I will use the Slayers world to develop offshoots of characters of my own make and design. Enjoy!
AN: I broke my first chapter into three parts to hopefully make for easier reading.
Devorit Ni Rathard had been walking the lonely halls of the Temple Proper for some time. It was something he usually always did before he traveled the distance required to get to his apartments for the evening meal. He did it to clear his rather chaotic mind, and all the walking helped a little. He knew he could have just teleported to his room without the need to walk, but that was the lazy way that most of the males of the temple took, and he hated being lazy. Plus, he liked the extra exercise all the walking gave him.
His human form was perfect, healthy and strong, and his dragon form even more so—and he liked to keep it that way—because he took every chance he could to exercise and keep in shape. Both his forms were even considered very attractive by a large number of the females of his race—and a great many of them wished he would mate with them. But he ignored them.
None of them were worthy of him, his power, or his bloodline.
It may have been a conceited thought, but only if it weren't true. He was rare among the Golden Dragons for his healing gifts were not common even before the mass of deaths during the Kôma War. Afterwards, his talents became even more rare, for there had not been a dragon born with his ability since his birth—hell; there literally hadn't been a dragon with his exact abilities before his birth.
He was very special, and he knew it. No one else—even among the other races, even the extinct ones—could bring a person back from Death as quickly as he could, nor could they be brought back fully healed. He could completely heal a body of all physical ailments without the need to stop the bleeding, set broken bones, drain poison from a wound, or any of the other requirements needed before a healer could actually use their magic to heal the body. He could even heal minds, and that was possibly an even trickier process than completely healing a body or bringing a person back from death for the mind was the most complicated part of the body.
It was one of the reasons he was a favorite of Flarelord's Supreme Elder.
Another reason was that Devorit had been a gift that the Goddess Ragradia had given to her sect, and one just did not mess with another God's Chosen, especially when that God was allies with your own. All the Golden Dragons had known why Devorit had been created the moment the Kôma War had commenced and the Golden Dragons had finally gotten involved. Unfortunately, before Devorit could be of use to his Goddess, the Mazoku barrier had been put in place, and he could not assist the Golden Dragons of Aqualord's sect.
Devorit, on occasion, cursed the fact that he had been at Lord Vrabazard's Temple for training with Flarelord's version of healing—which was very different from Aqualord's healing—when Hellmaster had decided to start the Kôma War. He was frustrated by the fact that he had been created for one specific purpose, and he could not perform his duties to his Goddess when she needed him most. He cursed his unfulfilled destiny. It was a resentment he kept contained most of the time, but every so often it would lash out through his temper, and that was another reason the Supreme Elder of Lord Vrabazard kept him very close.
Oh, he kept busy with the temple and all the problems inherent in keeping a large sect of Golden Dragons healthy in the desolation of a desert, but Devorit felt stymied.
His reason for life was gone, and now he was just another healer among many. Sure, he was still a powerful healer and desired for that very reason, and he was the Temple Healer of Flarelord, even though Vrabazard was not the God he prayed to and he would have rather been the Temple Healer of Lady Ragradia—but a number of the healers under his command were good enough that he really didn't need to still be here to be Lord Vrabazard's healer. He was tired of being locked away in this forsaken temple, unable to go to Lord Valwin, or Lady Rangort to assist them with their healers and maybe teach more of his skills to their followers, or perhaps even learn new techniques from them.
Mostly, Devorit really just wanted to go back to his Lady Goddess, and beg of her other tasks to make his life more fulfilled than it was. He wanted to be of use to Her, and only to Her.
But it was not to be.
Aside from the fact that the Supreme Elder of the Fire Dragon King was a jealous male who did not want to lose one fraction of his power or the power over what he thought were his subjects, Aqualord had been much diminished in Her fight with Shabranigdo and Chaos Dragon Gaav. Devorit knew it would be a long time before Her power would come back into being again—especially since a large number of Her Golden Dragon followers had died in the war, died because he had not been there to resurrect them—and until She called him back into Her service and the Mazoku Barrier was down, he was to remain a subject under Flarelord's Supreme Elder.
Unfortunately, his life seemed to be one big disappointment after another, though he had gotten used to it by now.
He did not like Flarelord's Supreme Elder. The man was a fool. Anyone could see that. But the old male had power, and he had been able to push his way into power, forcing the original female Supreme Elder out of power and into exile. It had not been the smartest thing the man could have down, as that crotchety old bitch could hold a grudge like no one else—but the old fool had done so anyway. And far worse than even that, the old miscreant had practically cursed his entire sect.
Devorit had been there when the High Priestesses had foretold the destruction that would happen to Vrabazard's Golden Dragons if they committed the mass genocide against the Ancient Dragons. The Supreme Elder hadn't cared. In fact, he had enslaved every single female priestess that had a variation of that vision, and then he locked the priestesses in the dungeons far below Firelord's city—all for daring to have visions that their own God had given them to save their sect!
The Supreme Elder wanted vengeance against a race that had not assisted in the Kôma War; he wanted the blood of a race that were pacifists and would not fight back.
He eventually got what he wanted.
And the Golden Dragons under Firelord's Supreme Elder became a much-diminished race. Devorit knew, once he had begun to see the changes in the bodies of his fellow Golden Dragons, that Lord Vrabazard had cursed His very followers. They had ignored His visions, so He would damn them in return.
The curse had started out simply enough.
All the males involved in the slaughter of the Ancient Dragons had suddenly begun to sprout hair on their heads! The next part of the curse actually changed their physical bodies even more. Their once beautiful golden scales had dulled to a sickly mustard yellow, and their bodies lost a lot of their weight despite the fact that they had not changed their diets. When the males eventually murdered all of the pacifist Ancient Dragons, their bodies almost looked emaciated, at least compared to how they used to look.
Unfortunately, the females also seemed to be touched with this curse, even though they had had nothing to do with the unmitigated slaughter.
Seemed, being the operative word.
Being a healer of the highest quality and standards, and being a healer of a Goddess not currently cursing Her followers allowed Devorit to truly see into the curse. He couldn't do anything about it—it was a curse from Lord Vrabazard Himself!—but Devorit could see how it affected all the parts of the body. Lord Vrabazard had only cursed His male followers, not His female followers. But it also seemed He knew His male followers a little too well, for He knew that if the females didn't start showing the changes in their bodies, they would be harmed.
So the females also grew hair atop their heads whilst in their dragon forms. And their scales, while never taking on that muddy yellow color of the males, still lost a lot of the golden splendor and shine that gave Golden Dragons their name. They had even begun to mature slowly, so that they reached puberty at a much later time than the males. But Lord Vrabazard did not curse their digestive tracts to stop taking in proper nutrients…
Had He done so, His female followers would have surely died of starvation long ago.
Because the Supreme Elder, in wanting to make sure no female could ever go against him or his chosen Council, made sure that the females were put on restrictive diets. Enough to survive daily life, if they put the minimum of effort into moving around, and they mostly remained in their human forms. Priestesses were allowed a larger ration because he still expected them to perform magic for him. Some brooding females were even allowed a larger amount of meat and bone to ensure their eggs actually survived in their bodies until they were laid—but this was not always the case, especially if the Supreme Elder wanted the female to become one of the casteless, and therefore one of the temple whores—which seemed to be happening more and more often since Evalee.
To this day Devorit still was not sure if that was the case in regards to Evalee.
He sighed as he thought about her.
Evalee had been one of the first females to have had most of her first and only clutch die on her. Only one egg out of the four that she had laid had hatched, and the hatchling—though as lovely as her mother and just as vivacious as Evalee had once been—had been scorned for surviving at all, all because she had no magical ability. Evalee had immediately been 'fixed' so she could no longer bear any more clutches, had been forced to become a casteless female and a whore, and was put on even stricter rations than even the lowest caste females. Her surviving daughter Evanth was forced to become the lowest caste the Golden Dragons had, and had immediately become a pariah in their society, all before she could meep piteously about her empty and hungry belly.
Devorit had been there. He had seen it all. And his heart crumbled at the sight of such neglect to the poor hatchling, to poor Evalee. But the Supreme Elder would not back down from his ruling despite how much Devorit argued for the two females.
Even though the Supreme Elder very much liked the fact that Devorit was HIS healer, and a powerful one at that, he still considered Devorit an outsider—especially since Devorit had not been cursed by Lord Vrabazard. Devorit still looked as a Golden Dragon should, he still retained his weight and his splendor. The Supreme Elder almost seemed to hold this against Devorit, and seemed to do everything in his power to make Devorit as miserable as he could, without being obvious about it.
Devorit had wanted Evalee as his mate.
Evalee may not have been the most powerful of the magic users in the temple, but she had a special ability with her magic. She could store her magic for days, weeks and even months on end if she had to, and then when she really needed to use it, she could cast spell after spell after spell without growing tired or getting burned out, outlasting even those magic users who had talismans and magic amplifiers to increase their magical capacity. Devorit had seen that as a high possibility in his future children. If he and Evalee could have children whose talents combined their parents' talents together, they would be the most powerful healers the world would have ever seen.
He had also just desired her as a female. She had been clever, spirited, and beautiful. Even in her physically diminished state, she was still a sight to behold when she flew.
But the Supreme Elder was a conniving weasel. And he had allowed another male, a priest of the temple, to mate Evalee despite Devorit's claim on her. He had wanted to exert his authority over Devorit; to show which male of the two truly had power.
Devorit once again cursed that vicious bastard. The moment Evalee had become pregnant, there was nothing Devorit could do about the claim of the other male. And when Evalee had laid the clutch, Devorit did what any healer was expected to do and he made sure the eggs were all healthy and strong—and they were. He could even detect very strong magic in three of the eggs. He didn't relate his findings about the fourth though, as that egg completely confounded him. He just proclaimed her unable to cast magic, which was true…
But he couldn't exactly pinpoint what was so different about Evanth, compared to her sisters.
He had known something was wrong the night of her hatching. All four babies were past their due date to break out of their shells, and he had the regular healers of the temple on constant watch. He was there when Evanth finally began to rock in her egg, attempting to find the weakest point to break out at. Sadly, her egg was the only egg that had done so. Evalee was busy helping her daughter hatch, while Devorit checked over the three others for signs of life. He knew that Evalee instinctually knew about the others, that she had noticed the lack of meeps from her other daughters while they were still shellbound, that Evanth was the only one exhibiting signs of life from her egg—but despite this, Devorit didn't want to add such a burden to her, or she may force the hatching of her only surviving egg and thus kill Evanth in her hurry to save her.
Once Evanth had completely broken out of her shell, and was resting comfortably against her mother, Devorit confirmed Evalee's growing suspicions about the death of her three other eggs, much to her own distress. Unfortunately, though Devorit wanted to keep the news a secret as long as possible, one of his assistant healers had already retrieved the Supreme Elder by that time. And the old bastard—upon learning of Evalee's misfortune—had declared her casteless and for Devorit to fix her as soon as she was physically able to withstand the process. Devorit could tell very much that the despicable whoreson wanted Evanth to be killed outright since she was obviously as useless as her mother, and it was all Devorit could do to protect her from the damned slimeball.
Evanth may not have been his daughter, but her death would shatter Evalee—and he loved Evalee too much to see her so broken.
Devorit had begged the Supreme Elder to allow him to mate Evalee despite the loss of her first clutch, but the Supreme Elder had denied him—wanting him to choose a stronger female among his priestesses. Devorit hadn't wanted any of them. He had only wanted Evalee.
He had done what he could to see that they were as well taken care of as possible, and watching Evanth grow from a tiny hatchling into a lovely little dragonette had been worth the pain in seeing his beloved so weakened. He had noticed that Evalee was starving herself as well, so that Evanth could eat more than a low caste female was allowed. Despite the fact that it was killing her, he didn't stop Evalee from doing this, nor did he inform anyone that he knew what was going on. Luckily, everyone of the temple just assumed that Evanth was an extraordinarily healthy young dragon, and that the death of her daughters—and her subsequent drop in social status—had put Evalee into a state of shock and denial.
The only time Devorit noticed that Evalee even exhibited any signs of life was when Evanth was nearby.
It didn't help that Evalee was now being raped everyday by all the males that had wanted her before that priest had mated her—the Supreme Elder had even stated Devorit could have the first round on Evalee since he had wanted her so much, but Devorit had refused and was likely the only male that had not done such a horrendous act to her. He couldn't bear to. He truly loved her too much for that.
So he healed Evalee of her injuries when he could, fed them most of his food when he was able to sneak it in, and did his best to watch over Evanth when he was free so that the males of the temple wouldn't get the same ideas in their heads about her as they did about her mother.
Devorit was broken from his musings when he heard some murmurings in one of the corridors ahead of him. Five males, all nattering away like hens in a henhouse.
"Apparently, she had the audacity to demand that they change her purpose from that of a breeder into a scribe!" This was a very young male's voice; Devorit would place him at maybe two hundred and fifty.
"Foolish little chit of a girl. How dare she?! She should know her place after being told it for four hundred years of her life." An older male, perhaps six or seven hundred, snarled.
This sounded quite interesting. He wondered just whom they were talking about.
"Do you think they'll actually allow her to be anything more than a brood female though? I mean, do you think she's intelligent enough?" Another young male spoke this, likely one who just recently hit majority at two hundred.
"Well, she does have a hundred more years to prove she's worth anything. Not that I think she can. I mean, just look at her mother." This male was also older, close to the six hundred mark, almost as old as the other.
"That little wench is weak and talentless. She's not worth the effort of making into a brood female. I don't care who her grandmother and great grandmother were, all she's any good for now is for fucking and even then we still have to wait for her to hit puberty, though I don't know why. She's practically fully grown anyway. She could handle all the males that are interested in her." The seven hundred year old one, and likely a priest based on his tone and his knowledge.
Devorit frowned. He had an inkling of just whom they were talking about, and if he were right, he would need to take action. Young Evanth had requested another hearing in regards to her purpose in the temple. The Supreme Elder had been quite incensed about it after all. He had railed at Devorit for weeks, though Devorit had secretly been pleased that she was brave enough to ask. Was that today? Had he lost track of the time?
"Well, apparently she must have convinced the Supreme Elder, may he reign another thousand years." This was the six hundred year old.
"Why do you say that?" A new male voice spoke up; maybe four hundred?
"Didn't you hear?" The six hundred year old again.
"Hear what?" No, he was older; his voice was just reedy and nasally. He was closer to six hundred like the other.
The six hundred year old chuckled, confident in his knowledge. "Right after his meeting with the little tramp, he sent for his Favorite."
"You've got to be joking! That upstart little bitch isn't worth all this effort, surely." The eldest male snarled.
The confident one spoke again. "I'm serious. All of the priestesses were interrupted in their meditations and Filia was practically dragged before the Council with a bewildered look on her face."
The oldest one snorted. "Filia always has a bewildered look on her face."
There was much guffawing over this.
The reedy voice spoke again. "That doesn't stop you from wanting to bend her over one of the pews to fuck her as she begs for more."
Devorit could practically hear the rude gestures being made.
The oldest harrumphed. "I can't help it if her father designed her human form to such delicious perfection. You know Bazard did it so we'd all be lining up to bang her."
The confident one spoke up again. "Yeah, those luscious tits of hers are begging to be sucked."
The nasal one agreed. "And fucked."
More guffaws; and likely more rude gestures. Devorit rolled his eyes. In his temple and his worship under Lady Ragradia, women were treated with far more respect than this. They were the natural givers of life after all, and one did not treat them as objects to be used and abused. One treated them with adoration, and hoped that they would deign to notice his existence. And Devorit still held to the old ways.
It was time to interrupt this foolish gathering of imprudent horny males who had nothing better to do with their time than gossip, especially about the females who could not escape their enslavement.
He stepped into the corridor where the males immediately snapped their mouths shut, their eyes bulging when they saw who was glowering at them. Everyone in this temple knew who Lord Devorit Ni Rathard was, what he was capable of. He was practically on equal standing with the Supreme Elder, and was the old dragon's right hand man. It didn't matter that he was only a healer. Devorit was the Healer. And ever since the Kôma War, the slaughter of the Ancient Dragons, and the subjugation of the females, he had not been a particularly nice healer.
And he had just overheard them.
Devorit could have been a living statue, for all of the movement that he made. He didn't blink, just stared at all the males, as if memorizing every detail of their faces. The hatred he had for them was obvious even in his stoic façade.
None of the priests or guards made a move. To do so was to catch Devorit's unwavering attention, and right now the only safety they had was in numbers. They all knew he held no high regard for Filia, but they also knew he did not appreciate their debauched ways because he was the one who usually had to heal the females afterwards.
Devorit suddenly smiled. It was not that gracious a smile. A few chills went up the small gathering's spines. His deep voice resonated down the halls. "You will all be taking a vow of celibacy, until I decide otherwise. That means no fucking, no masturbating, nothing. And I will be doing your physicals every month to make sure that you stay true to this vow. And if you don't stay true to it, I assure you, I can make it physically impossible for you to ever have sex again. Don't forget. I was forced to fix the females. Males are much easier. And far more permanent. And none of you have anything to offer magically or martially that we don't already have an overabundance of in the other males of the temple, so there won't be much of a loss if you force me to enact such retribution."
To say the males were upset by this pronouncement was an understatement. But this was Lord Devorit Ni Rathard. And they knew he wasn't afraid to follow through on his threats. The healer had nothing that could be taken from him that had not already been taken away. He was a dangerously loose cannon, and only the Supreme Elder seemed to hold any sway over him, and that sway was tenuous at best.
There were rumors that Devorit was behind the death of the priest that had mated Evalee—and the venereal diseases of the males that more frequently raped Evalee. That male's death had been slow and agonizingly painful—and the venereal diseases were even worse. But no one had been able to connect the priest's death or the diseases to Devorit, so they were really only just rumors.
It was almost as if Devorit knew what they were thinking about, with that gleeful smile of his. "Now back to your posts. I will see you tomorrow morning, bright and early."
The three priests—the oldest ones in the grouping—scrambled back towards the temple proper, fear in their eyes as they passed the healer. The two guards, the younglings who were already learning the atrocious ways of their forebears, were back against the walls of the corridors, their eyes on anything but each other and Devorit.
It was at that moment that Devorit felt a healing spell go off. He pinpointed the direction it came from, sending his magic out to feel who cast it and why.
Filia Ul Copt. In the general location of the temple apartments. Well, shit.
It was a minor one, which was to be expected with her. But she hadn't cast it on herself. And it wasn't like her to practice her spells outside of the temple, especially her healing spells. She thought she was too good for that. But she had cast it on someone. Which meant he needed to check it out. If someone was hurt, he wasn't about to trust Filia to properly heal her. He sighed. A healer's work was never done.
Devorit headed towards her apartments at a quick pace, concern for Filia's patient overriding his usual decorum.
xxxx
Filia leaned back from her bureau and took a deep breath, surprised at her exhaustion. She couldn't still be tired from that vision, could she? She rested her forehead against her hand for a moment, but pulled away when she realized how hot her skin was. She shouldn't still be burning up from the heat of Lord Vrabazard's rage, but there was no real explanation for it other than the power behind the vision. Maybe she should get some water to drink, she still felt parched after all—plus she wasn't even sweating and that couldn't be a good sign. She sighed.
She'd find the clothing for Evanth, heal her the rest of the way and then get something to drink. And then maybe prepare a meal for the two of them. She was starving, and Evanth had to be as well.
As she finally found some clothing that would fit Evanth, someone came bursting into her bedroom, and though she was outraged at such audacity, she was very glad that she was at least dressed. It would have been embarrassing and highly improper if she had still been only in a towel.
Filia looked up, ready to berate her intruder, and smash him through a wall with her hidden mace if need be, when her mouth closed with a snap. The male Golden Dragon standing in her bedroom and looking down on her was the last person in the world that she'd expect to invade her privacy, for he never had before. They weren't even on speaking terms really, even if he was a favorite of the Supreme Elder.
Lord Devorit Ni Rathard was a very handsome male specimen, and very typical in what most male Golden Dragons looked like—gold eyes, long golden hair swept back in a warrior's braid, and tan golden skin. He was tall with strong square shoulders, and he was very well built with very good musculature. If one hadn't known he was a healer—and had never once actually fought a day in his long life—one would think all he did was work out and fight for a living. Even his dragon form was perfect, and Filia would admit this only to herself, desirable—for he looked nothing like the other males that she was used to seeing. She supposed that it was because he was originally from a different sect and because he was not a follower of Lord Vrabazard, but of Lady Ragradia.
He raised a perfect arched golden eyebrow at Filia, who had yet to get up off her floor, and spoke. "You were casting healing magic outside of the Temple. Why?"
Filia couldn't help but growl.
Just because he was gorgeous did not give him the right to be so demanding.
He was in her home, in Her Room, for Flarelord's sake, and he was asking her what she was doing in it?! Filia stood up, dropping the clothes for Evanth on the floor as she did so. She glared at him, still growling, while putting her hands on her hips as she continued to look up at him. She wasn't going allow the fact that just because he was at least a head taller than she was intimidate her—she was Lady Filia Ul Copt after all. She dealt with her father and the Supreme Elder on a regular basis. Lord Devorit may have been the Temple Healer, but he did not have the same sort of status that they did.
And now she especially didn't like him for barging into her lair without even asking permission to enter. "What are you doing in my room? I did not give you permission to so much as step a foot inside."
Lord Devorit chuckled and the sound practically grated on her nerves. "You were practicing healing magic outside of the Temple. I am attuned to these sorts of things, and you should know you're not supposed to cast outside of the Temple without my direct authority. Now I will ask again Filia, why were you casting healing magic?"
Filia snorted as she turned her head up and away from him, her nose in the air. "It's 'Lady Filia' to you. And what I do in my apartments is my own business. If I choose to practice my healing arts, it should make no never-mind to you. Now get out before I tell my father and the Supreme Elder that you were invading my privacy." She made to push him out, but couldn't so much as budge the man.
Devorit frowned a moment. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body. That was unusual. He wondered for a moment if she was getting sick. The Supreme Elder would not like it if his favorite was coming down with something and Devorit had done nothing to assist her when he could have. "If you harmed yourself or if you are sick, and did not heal yourself properly, it is my job to make sure you are well, Lady Filia." Lord Devorit made sure to emphasize the 'Lady', though he had known all along that the healing spell she cast had not been on herself. But he was playing her game for now.
"Well I'm fine. Now go away." She looked away from him, her gaze landing on her bed.
Devorit sniffed the air, when her stare was not focused on him. The extra heat coming from Filia's body was not because she was ovulating, so she apparently had not entered her cycle. But there was a different scent to her, on her, a male scent… One he couldn't quite place, at least not without getting in her personal space and obviously sniffing her. He glanced to her bed and saw the occupant on it. The one Filia had likely tried to heal. "I see. Yes, you are well. But the girl on your bed is not."
Filia meeped, before she took as much command of the situation as she could, and tried to push him out once more, to no avail. "Well, she will be when I'm finished. So go away."
She was still radiating way too much heat for a female dragon as small as she was. And her efforts in attempting to push him away were clearly ineffectual. He knew she wasn't a completely feeble female—when she got in one of her tempers, which she was close to now, she actually had the adrenaline to pound into people, and if she had her mace on her, she was even worse. So why was she so weak? "If I am to call you Lady Filia, you will address me by my proper title, got that, Lady Filia?" Lord Devorit completely ignored Filia and walked past her to the girl passed out on Filia's bed. He chuckled. "I didn't realize you were into members of your own sex, Lady Filia. I'm sure the Supreme Elder and Lord Bazard will be delighted."
Filia's blush burned brightly. "I am not! She needed my assistance and didn't want to go to a male for help."
Lord Devorit turned and looked at Filia whose face was switching between pouting and scowling. He supposed, had he been attracted to her, he might have found her cute—the priests and guards were correct in that regard, for she was definitely quite beautiful especially with her sapphire blue eyes. But he honestly just found her annoying. Especially her higher-than-thou attitude. Why this girl would come to Filia for help was beyond him. Then part of what Filia said registered. "Was she raped?"
Filia crossed her arms over her chest, and continued pouting.
Lord Devorit wanted to roll his eyes. She was such a child. Getting her to answer was like pulling teeth from a crocodile—a long drawn-out process and painful to boot. "I will ask again, Lady Filia. And if you don't answer me, I will do a full pelvic exam on her and then take this before the Supreme Elder and name you as an accomplice. Was She Raped?"
Filia's eyes widened, the Vision flashing before her eyes once more. She winced in remembered pain, and the heat of her body flared up once more. "No. Not exactly," she managed to gasp out.
Devorit would have to be a fool not to have noticed that. The temperature around her had literally increased with the wave of heat that rolled off of her body. And that male scent had also increased. She was also in pain. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it before, but he did notice it now. The thing was, she was keeping it to herself. He knew Filia did not have a high tolerance for pain—his fellow healers complained constantly when they had to treat her because all she did was whine. Why wasn't she whining now? She had a healer right here, in front of her—but nothing so much as a peep out of her. Why? "What do you mean, not exactly."
The stubbornness that Filia must have inherited from her mother bore itself out on her face, before Filia walked away from him and towards her bathroom. Lord Devorit, despite his healer's code, was fighting the need to strangle the young female.
When Filia came back, he supposed he was glad that he hadn't followed her to carry through with his dark thoughts.
Filia handed him the girl's robes, and he immediately caught the whiff of musk from the male who had done this to the girl.
It wasn't the same scent that was on Filia, that one was clean and pure and full of spice.
This one was… disgustingly pungent to say the least. But male Golden Dragons, when marking females, typically gave off strong scents to prove ownership. He handled the clothing and noticed how threadbare the material was. It was likely a hand-me-down from another female of the lower castes, and it was worn practically through. Then he found the stain, right in the middle of the belly of the robes.
No, the male had not raped the girl, not exactly. He brought the stain to his nose. He needed to know which male it was, exactly. He almost gagged at the stench. As an unmated male, he would find that particular smell offensive, much more than a mated male would. But he recognized the male that the funk came from.
Fenlazzo Jil Narathept.
A disgusting male if ever there was one. He had absolutely no magical talent, not even for healing and especially not for Holy Magic. All Fenlazzo was good for was fighting, fucking and breeding strong brainless male fighters.
Devorit finally looked down at the girl in Filia's bed, really looked at her. He recognized her. It was hard not to. Young Evanth was the only female of their race who had such lovely natural russet brown hair. Devorit felt his heart crumble at the sight of her. The dried tears that had run down her cheeks from the pain, the bites and bruising on her lips, the bruises on her arms and shoulder, all suggesting a very brutal violation—Evalee's baby girl did not deserve this.
His poor Evalee had become a whore to all the males who had wanted to mate with her, including Fenlazzo. And Devorit knew that most of those males felt that Evanth should take up her mother's mantle, despite the fact that she was underage by at least a hundred years. They felt that because her dragon form was practically fully developed she'd be able to handle all the males who wanted to take her despite her youth.
He knew Evanth was not ready for that sort of thing. She was much too young. She didn't understand sex, wasn't taught about the differences between males and females, and she wouldn't be taught until she was close to her majority.
While it was true, that he had never truly looked upon Evanth in that light before, he knew his jealousy was coming to the fore, with the wretched stench of Fenlazzo's nearby. He had never been able to have her mother. And he never would because Evalee was mentally too far-gone, and the Supreme Elder had never allowed it anyway. But he had perhaps always hoped that just maybe he could have Evalee's only child—the last remnant of the woman he loved.
He looked down at Evanth again.
Evanth was highly intelligent. Her intellect was much higher even than young Filia—when Filia chose to use it—and Filia had been under the wing of the Supreme Elder almost all of her life. Lord Devorit had always admired cleverness in a female. Unfortunately there were so few female Golden Dragons in Vrabazard's sect that were actually intelligent, Filia being one of the prime examples in the lack of brains.
He also knew of Evanth's attempt to make her life better—almost all the males had by now considering the gossip he had just heard—by seeing the Elders a second time, to change her purpose from that of a breeder to that of a scribe.
It was the ballsiest thing he had ever heard a lower caste female try, and she was not yet fully an adult.
The poor girl had grown up in so much adversity and such a thing was really not to be expected from her. Many of the females of her caste had at least had full clutches to live and grow with. She had been alone. The females of her caste had mothers, and sometimes fathers, who took an active interest in their daughter's lives. Evanth did not have that luxury.
Evanth was constantly shamed because only she had survived, because she didn't have magical talent, because she was expected to become a whore like her mother and it was better to keep her downtrodden now so she wouldn't try to break out later. But she still fought back against a system that had been in place for many hundreds of years.
And now this. That same male, who was raping her mother, was attempting to do the same to her. Evanth had not even reached puberty for a female Golden Dragon, and already Fenlazzo was beginning the stages for mating. And if she became impure, the Supreme Elder would be required to give her to Fenlazzo, even though he was the cause of it. It seemed he only cared about getting his dick fucked.
Lord Devorit snarled.
His rage at never having Evalee came to the fore once more. Her only surviving child would take her place, and Devorit would make sure no other male would have her but him.
Evanth was His.
And a despicable male was starting to encroach upon what was rightfully his.
He'd have to rectify that.
But first he would have to heal his female. And get his scent on her as quickly as possible without using the contemptible methods that Fenlazzo was trying. Why Fenlazzo even wanted Evanth, aside from her innocent youth, was beyond Lord Devorit's ken, but that would not stop Devorit from bringing an end to Fenlazzo and his idiotic tendencies.
It was time to play with those venereal diseases again. They were much too weak for someone like Fenlazzo.
"What exactly have you done Lady Filia? I must know so that I can best help her."
Filia looked up at Lord Devorit, flabbergasted. "You mean… you're going to help her?"
Lord Devorit heaved a sigh. "Isn't that what I just said?"
Filia frowned. "You're not going to take her to the Supreme Elder, are you?"
Devorit looked at the young priestess, an eyebrow quirked at her response. Usually she was always telling the Supreme Elder, or her father, anything and everything. She was well-known as a veritable tattletale. Why was she suddenly so hesitant? Did it have to do with the heat radiating off her body, that unknown male's scent, and the pain she was in? "I'm surprised you haven't already."
Filia blushed and bowed her head. So she knew of her reputation. "She's my friend. And she asked me not to. You're not supposed to betray the trust of your friend."
Lord Devorit chuckled. "Interesting." So all it took was a friend to suddenly make Filia tight-lipped. Or, perhaps, there was more to it. Like all those niggling little facts that he hadn't yet figured out. "No, I suppose you are not. On my honor, Lady Filia, I will not bring her case before the Supreme Elder or the Elders."
Filia suddenly brightened. "Oh thank you Lord Devorit!"
"I will ask though, for my services, that you not tell her that I assisted you in this."
Filia tilted her head, confusion written upon her face. "But why?"
"Well, it's as you said. She didn't want to go to a male for help. And I am a male. Besides, don't you think it'll be better if she thinks you're the one who made her completely better?" And he didn't want Evanth to know he was directly involved with her yet. He had to plan this carefully and she'd be embarrassed if she knew he'd learned of her violation. No female liked that, or wanted her future mate to know about her impurity, not that he saw it as such since she was the not the one at fault. Plus, Devorit didn't want Fenlazzo to find out that he had any connection to Evanth, not yet—he needed to study Fenlazzo a little more first.
Filia looked down, nodded and then finally looked back up. "You're right."
"So, I'll ask once more. What exactly have you done?" He was tired of repeating himself, but with a brainless twit like Filia, one must do so often.
"I cast a small healing spell on her left arm to lesson the pain on her torn muscle so I could then rotate her arm bone back into place in her shoulder. She passed out from the pain from that."
"Did you use a cooling spell on any of the injured areas?"
"No… I did make sure she had a hot bath though. She really smelled a lot like that male, and we both didn't like that."
He'd agree, he did not like Fenlazzo's scent on Evanth either. "The bath was a nice gesture, but could have made the injuries worse without the cold spells in place."
"Oh."
"I will admit though, that it was smart of you to set her shoulder first before you attempted to heal it. From what I have heard, your healing skills are not the greatest, and you could have repaired most of the damage and kept the shoulder dislocated which would have made it bad for her in the end."
She obviously heard his intended insult, and sulked. "Are you saying you could have healed her perfectly without doing all that I did?"
Lord Devorit smirked. "I am the Temple Healer here for a reason."
Filia glared at his smug expression. "Well I did what I could. So why don't you show me just how good you are then?"
Devorit really wanted to grind his head into his palm. Filia had no idea at the innuendo she had just said. She was lucky she was with him, and that he had no intentions toward her. It was no wonder all the priests wanted to fuck her, especially if that was how she spoke normally. He chuckled. "With pleasure. I'll show you how an expert handles this situation." Lord Devorit undid the towel wrapped around Evanth, exposing her body to his gaze.
Filia snarled and attempted to wrap the towel back around Evanth's body. "You're supposed to be good enough that you can heal her with her clothes still on. There's no need for you to undress her to such an extent!"
Lord Devorit slapped Filia's hands away. Her skin was really hot, burning almost. He'd have to check her out after he dealt with Evanth. "Really Filia? Just because I can sense what is wrong with her body, does not mean I can see it. I must make sure all her contusions are completely healed and no longer showing on her skin. I can't see through a towel to make sure. And I'd rather not stop my healing spells just to keep checking."
"It's just, she wouldn't want you to see her naked. No girl likes that."
"I'm a healer. It's in the job description. I've seen you." He didn't add that it was mostly when she was just a young dragonette. He'd left her adult physicals to the female healers. He didn't want an eyeful of Filia Ul Copt, and he didn't want her father thinking he'd had an eyeful.
Dear Lady, the bastard might have made him mate the chit!
Filia's face turned redder than a tomato before she slapped him across the face. She stomped out of the room, all sense of propriety for her new friend forgotten in her embarrassment.
The mage lights went out as well.
Lord Devorit rolled his eyes as he watched the hot-tempered priestess storm out of the room.
Seriously? What idiot wanted to be mated to that?! Poor sap that eventually got chosen would find out soon enough that he was getting a spoiled naïve little princess.
Devorit was just glad that he wasn't on the list. His Holy Magic spells left much to be desired so he was completely out of the running for Lady Filia's mating, according to the Supreme Elder and Bazard.
Thank Ceified.
He sighed as he cast a few mage lights over Evanth's body so that he could better see the bruising.
Lord Devorit turned back to Evanth. Despite the arguing between Filia and himself, she had not yet awoken. The pain must have been great indeed. She was pale, underneath the much-abused skin that must have been from Filia scrubbing the hell out of her. Her stomach was fairly bruised, right around the belly button. He found it comical that the Golden Dragons found the need to form their human bodies so exactly that they had belly buttons since it was a purely aesthetic addition, but still have differences like pointed ears and longer canines.
Both of Evanth's arms were bruised as well, right at her biceps in the form of fingerprints, though in her left arm the muscles had definitely been torn. He could see how that had happened, especially with a dislocated shoulder. Her left shoulder was swollen and bruised as well, which was to be expected without the ice spells placed on the area of all her injuries. He looked closely at her face. Her cheeks had nail scratches, and her right cheek was slightly puffy. The little sleazebag had slapped her too. And her lips were not only bruised and swollen, but they were also bitten. Devorit leaned in closer and sniffed.
Blood and…
Venom.
Fenlazzo had injected his venom into her lips and mouth. It wasn't as effective as injecting it into her jugular, and he didn't inject very much of it. But enough was there that it probably made her just a little more responsive to his actions, a little more pliant as he manhandled her.
The venom was still fairly fresh. And it would likely still be affecting her. She was very young after all.
A hundred years too young for this sort of shit.
Devorit was already planning a special sort of hell for Fenlazzo, and any others of his ilk who thought they could get away with doing this to the young females of their race. Devorit knew the young girls didn't have much to look forward to, but this was a bit much.
Fenlazzo would probably even say she came onto him, that she was teasing him. Young Evanth didn't even know the name of the game for that kind of thing. The young females were not taught about sex until it actually happened, or sometimes, right before it happened. They were kept ignorant on purpose. They were kept in prepubescent bodies until they reached majority—which was typically around five hundred years—so that the males would not look upon them with lust, and would not act upon that lust. It was a safety measure for the young prepubescent females who knew nothing about males and their urges.
But it wouldn't work if males like Fenlazzo thought they could just bend the rules whenever they found a young female to their liking.
Yes. Fenlazzo would burn. First his gonads. Then the rest of him.
Devorit smiled into a vicious snarl. He would make certain that Fenlazzo would suffer greatly for attempting to rape a young female.
Especially since Fenlazzo had thought to rape Devorit's chosen female.
It meant Devorit had to act quickly in taking Evanth as his mate, but if it meant protecting Evanth from a male like Fenlazzo, then he would do it.
Devorit raised forth his arms and called upon his healing magic. He had built up a great store of magic by not using much this day, and his capacity for casting healing spells was incredible. Evanth wouldn't need much, but he wanted to make sure she was fully healed so she could be the scribe that she wanted to be.
He would allow her that chance before he truly stepped in to become her mate.