Nope, I haven't given up on this story : ) Updates may be slower, but the plot bunnies are still a'runnin'.
Early the next morning Ciaran descended from the clouds, her wings dripping condensation onto the glass she landed on. Ridding herself of the unwanted moisture, she shook. Droplets flew in different directions, dissipating into the cold night's air.
The meadow was quiet, disturbed only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Seto was awake, tending the flames to make sure they kept their life. It had dropped below freezing and mother nature was awaiting her next unsuspecting victim. The last thing he wanted was to die in his sleep, he'd come too far in life for such a mediocre ending.
Not for the first time the business owner had considered back-tracking in attempt to find their abandoned sleeping bags, only to realize how foolish that would be. Ever since they had found Ciaran he'd lost all sense of direction, and considering Joey's state of health he wasn't willing to leave him behind; even for the shortest of periods.
During the night his fever had waned thanks for the willow bark, but his cough was still sickly. Every so often he would inhale and sigh in his sleep, his chest rattling with congestion.
A snapping twig caught Seto's attention, his eyes bleakly drifting over to the dragon as he stood over the campfire. She gave a low exhausted huff, sympathizing with the young CEO as she slowly lumbered over to her master. Lowering her head she nuzzled Joey, the blonde stirring from his sleep with a cough. Seto was relieved when he sat up, obviously sick but not nearly as ill. His face had reclaimed part of its color and his eyes held more attention, more focus.
"How're you feeling?" he asked hopefully.
Joey shook his head, stroking Ciaran's snout. "Not so hot." he muttered, going into another coughing fit.
Concerned Ciaran lifted her head and looked accusingly at the fire as if it were the reason for her ailing master. Inhaling she blew a deep breath of fire onto the logs, thrumming with approval when it roared to life. Seto had to take a step back to avoid the sudden flare of heat that washed through the clearing.
Her tail thumped the grass, pleased with her work. Tending to her next duty she knelt down on her front legs, slowly working her way to the ground so she could lay with Joey.
Seto glowered at the dragon's actions, only to scoff away his feelings. "Seems like she is concerned for you."
Joey rested his back to Ciaran's stomach, cozying against her fire filled belly. "At least someone cares..." he mumbled.
Seto's eyebrows shot up, almost going invisible under his hairline. If only Joey knew how much he had been fussing over him through the night. Giving him medicine, tending the fire, and making sure he kept covered. Struggling with the urge to hurl insults and scream at Joey he clenched his jaw, crossed his arms and turned his back to them.
"I doubt your second grade dragon was the one stuffing your face with herbs for the past few days." he muttered, just loud enough for Joey to hear. Although his pride wouldn't allow him to ever admit it to Joey's face, the resentment he had urged him to confess his care. It wasn't fair, damn it. None of it was. They were lost in the woods (Not his fault), his dragon was lost (Again, not his fault), Joey was sick (Guess what? Also not his fault), and it was constantly being rubbed in his face that Joesph frickin' Wheeler of all people, had seemed to tame his dragon better than he.
Joey, not the least bit deaf when he chose to listen, gave Seto's back a searching look. "Huh?" he needed to be sure he'd heard that correctly.
"You heard me, Wheeler." Seto sneered over his shoulder, still keeping his back to Joey and the black dragon.
Had he not been as sick Joey would have taken the opportunity to throw a stick at Seto. In fact, despite his illness that is exactly what he did. On the ground lay a small twig, one that had been spared the fate of firewood. Joey reached out, grasped it, and promptly flung it at Seto. The makeshift weapon hit him harmlessly in the back, but the malice behind the action was clear as mountain-stream water.
"Ya know," Now that he started Joey had no hope of turning back," if you are gunna help someone ya may as well not brother. Being a prick about it voids any help you gave."
With a slacked jaw Seto turned back around, his face a light shade of red that had nothing to do with the cold. "Seriously?" Oh, he knew Joey was serious enough, he just couldn't believe he was starting an argument while he was half dead. "I go digging in the woods, remembering shit I learned back in primary school, and that is how you show appreciation?"
Joey's face relaxed, his jaw unclenching as his eyes went soft. "You did that?"
"Yes, I did." Seto's tone was still cold and unforgiving. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd quit being stubborn like your father and get your head out of your-" A fist connected with this face before he had a chance to finish his sentence.
If Seto had been surprised at Joey's spit-fire reaction before he was really surprised now. In the span of a blink Joey had hopped up from Ciaran, taken a step forward and thrown his arm out, his knuckles hitting with a deafening crunch on Seto's jaw. "Fuck you." he spat. "Fuck this whole idea."
Too stunned to move Seto watched as Joey turned on his heel and signaled for Ciaran to stand to which she promptly obeyed. Getting over another bout of coughing Joey stepped forward, hands reaching for her muzzle. Not wanting her master to strain the beast lowered her head, gently nudging her skull to Joey's chest.
"What did you find?" he whispered, the whisper a fairy would give to their lover. "Hm, my love?"
Heavy thumping shook the earth, Ciaran's tail beating the grass in display of affection. A deep thrum emitted from her body, her scales rattling with vibration.
"What did you find?" Joey asked, weaving his fingers behind the horns on her head. Beneath the rock-hard armor lay small scales, feeling soft like a snake's belly. His fingertips gently brushed the sensitive area, the dragon practically melting in his grasp. "Hm?"
Still thrumming Ciaran's teeth gnashed together lightly, a show of appreciation rather than anger. Joey's hands left her horns, and she lifted her head, ruby eye's looking down at her matriarch.
"Uuurrrhhh." her throat hitched as she let out the small roar, her way of communicating with Joey.
It was a lovely game, one of senseless noises and mindless banter only owner and tamer could share. They played it often when she was younger; she would frolic and find something delightful, Joey would ask her what it was and she would answer. Without fail the young man would come over and examine whatever pointless thing it was, as if he'd known all along what she had.
"Is that so?" he asked, Seto looking on wondering if Joey's fever was coming back.
She thrummed again, her tail giving an affirmative whack to the ground. As if given an unspoken cue she ambled next to Joey and crouched down on her haunches, right wing lowering to the ground.
"Unbelievable." Seto momentarily forgot about the swelling that was intruding onto his face. Fate seemed temperamental that day. As if to disprove any doubts he had Joey weakly climbed onto Ciaran's back, settling to sit above her wings.
"Are you coming, or what?" Joey asked, looking down at Seto expectedly.
Jaw snapping shut with aggravation Seto considered telling him to go to hell. He'd seen the snide looks that dragon gave him, and now he wanted Joey to ride her? Willing to bet half his company that he was about to die Seto begrudgingly stepped toward Ciaran who reared her head and promptly clashed her teeth together.
Not needing to be told twice Seto stumbled back, glaring at Joey as if it was his fault. "That thing is completely unpredictable." he accused. "I'm not riding it."
"It?" Joey clenched onto a small horn that grew from Ciaran's body. "'It' happens to be a 'she', asshole. If you don't want to get on, then fine. Ciaran, up!"
On command the dragon lift her wings, beating them furiously against the ground. She was exhausted, hungry and terribly cranky. Her reptilian mind thought of Tristan's junkyard and the helpless cars that lay there, waiting to be preyed upon. Still, without hesitation or complaint she took to the sky.
Feet firmly on the ground Seto kicked the stick that Joey had thrown at him, his temper now reaching its limit. "God damn it!" he yelled, cursing forces unseen as he blamed everything but himself for his problems.
After a few minuets of contemplation and brooding he began to kick dirt over the fire. He couldn't just stand around, and with the sun rising he now had a heading of direction to go in. As he kicked up another cloud of thick dirt he failed to see the black mass that was descending upon him. With a terrified yelled he was plucked from the ground, claws gripping around his waist.
Within seconds he was gliding over the trees flying higher and higher, his heart racing with terror and adrenaline. "Jesus Christ, put me the fuck down!" he roared, knowing Joey could hear him.
The only response he got was a wicked laugh that was lost to the whipping winds.
An half-hour later they landed just short of a mile from the small town Ciaran had found. A few shouting matches and a missed punch later the duo had taken a step back, each leaning their backs against a large oak tree. With crossed arms and dark looks they stood, tension filling the air like the smog of an angry volcano. In the center was Ciaran, perched from her treetop hangout as she curiously watched on. Sometimes humans were just so stupid she couldn't help herself, indulging on a conversation.
Unable to contain her curiosity the dragon crawled through the tree, ignoring the branched and limbs that broke under her weight. Scaled paws stepped onto the pine-needle covered ground and her tipped tale accidentally gouged a piece of the tree trunk out.
Putting her two sense in she let out a gut wrenching roar, the heat from her breath warming the chilled winter air. Both Seto and Joey grasped whatever they could find to steady themselves as her voice wracked their body, boggling their senses into stupidity.
"Ciaran!" Joey yelled, cutting her off mid-stream.
Proud of herself, and expecting Joey to be as well, she licked her lips and gave him a peculiar look, her eyes blinking with innocence.
What came next wasn't a snide remark from Seto, or a scolding from Joey. Another roar responded, deeper but feeble. Seto looked in the direction of the sound and without warning ran in the direction of the town, just like Joey had when Ciaran called to him. "She found him!" he shouted with delirious disbelief.
Joey, now in another coughing fit from yelling, was much slower to follow. The attempt he made at a light jog was shut down immediately, replaced with a heavy wheeze and a thin coat of sweat. Weaving between the forest timber Ciaran watched Joey with a vexing gaze, even going as far as catching Joey when he stumbled.
Hanging from his shirt by her mouth Joey's cough continued on for agonizing minutes, until finally his lungs forgave him for the abuse they'd been put through.
"I quit smoking, I swear." he promised himself, swore to himself; and by God he'd never do it. Quit smoking? Ha, that was a joke. Still, the tar junk he had hacked up tasted pretty disgusting, he'd admit.
When Ciaran set him back to the earth they began their venture again at a slower pace, the great dragon occasionally steering Joey when he would wonder astray from her preestablished path.
Much further ahead Seto had already stealthily invaded the town. It hadn't been all too difficult, the town being the size it was. A few mothers could be heard bustling about their kitchens, or tending to their children. Men were getting ready for a hard day's labor, moving tack out of their stables, rekindling forge harts, or restocking shelves to their stores.
Had Seto not been familiar with the different parts of the world he'd had been confused, the setting a stark contrast to the modern living he was accustomed to working in. Truly enough the town seemed to have come from the Middle Ages, taken right out of a book a set into a forest terrain. Still, it made for great sneaking. No cameras, no policemen, only the damn dog that tried to attack him. Luckily he'd been able to hop a fence, the wooden planks providing much needed safety.
Before he'd began roaming the dirt founded streets he'd climbed a pine tree, observing the possible places Addis could be. Just as Ciaran had seen he was quick to pinpoint the barn, which was the only logical place a dragon could be hidden due to its size. With the barn in sight he used the underbrush of the forest to conceal himself as he slowly slithered toward the back of the building.
By now the town was fully awake, and up the main street drove an old silver truck, paint chipped and weather worn. There were two people in the cabin and four in the pick-up bed, one with a machine gun strapped to his back. Seto's eyes pored over the truck, and by the time it pulled into the barn he'd memorized every face of every person, every rust mark, the make, the model and the license plate of the car.
Once around the back and out of sight he left the cover of the bushes and crept toward the barn, peering through a gap in the wooden planks.
Bound to the ground by chains was Addis, mouth muzzled shut by thick leather straps. Scorch marks scarred the ground, compliments of the dragon's fire that tirelessly flared from his nostrils. Hooks, chainsaws and other odd tools hung overhead from chains, swaying this way and that as the men passed by them. Dried blood stained the ground, Seto's blood running cold. A real life nightmare, the things only children dreampt of.
"Boss says we gotta' have this one moved out ta'day." the man with the gun had an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, the weapon now slung lazily over his shoulder.
"Ah, boss can kiss ma ass!" one man rebuked. "Peice'a shit almost took my leg off the other night." he explained, giving Addis a swift kick to the face, the dragon billowing a stream of smoke in warning.
"Yeah, yeah. Stick this in 'em and get to work. No one wants to hear your shit, Marcus." saidthe guy who Seto took to be the overseer of the operation. He watched the man toss a vial of blue liquid over to another worker.
Wordlessly a syringe was produced and filled, the blue liquid sucked into the needle then harshly shoved under Addis's scales. Seto glowered as the blue liquid disappeared inside his dragon. "Give him five, maybe ten minutes."
Someone was going to reply but Seto had heard enough. He backed away from the wall and began a quick pace around the perimeter, taking in his options. There wasn't much, a scrap piece of metal here and there, the gas heater that kept the barn at a bearable temperature. Frustrated he squatted down close to the ground, furiously trying to think up a plan.
A few minuets of silence passed and Seto stood, a spark in his eyes. Knowing the clock was ticking her feverishly began to search the ground, collecting any small rock he could find. Once he was satisfied with his assortment he laid them all out. Picking up each rock one-by-one he examined them, separating them into three piles, one in which he carelessly tossed unwanted stones.
From there he proceeded to grab rocks, one from each pile, and struck them together. A wolfish grin spread on his face when sparks emitted from the stone. "Quarts and marcasite," he hummed happily, "quarts and marcasite."
Knowing he had one chance to get this right he set things together first, like a surgeon laying out his tools. The rocks were set aside, partnered with a thick piece of scrap metal. Fixated on his task Seto strode over to the gas tank that was drilled into the side of the barn. Without hesitation he turned a red handle to the left, ignoring the yellow tape marker reading "Authorized Personal Only". The gas tank hissed to life and Seto snatched a glance back into the barn.
"-Was that?" It was a smaller person of the group, which everyone promptly ignored.
His eyes glanced over to Addis, noticing his eyes were lethargically lolling around.
Jaw clenched and face set he turned and shoved the rocks into his pocket then swiftly scooped up the spare metal. Taking the metal back overhead he swung it down with a mighty blow, the gas tank denting but not relenting. The men inside shouted and senseless gun fire sounded in warning. Judging by the splintering sounds he heard Seto guessed the weapon had been fired at the roof; a pathetic scare tactic.
Again he struck the tank, this time successful in puncturing the metal. He dropped the scrap piece, gas hissing from the tank as it escaped into the air. Another moment longer, just another second and this would work. A cold barrel touched the back of his neck, stilling him instantly. He dropped the two rocks to the ground with a soft thud, his hands raising in surrender. If only that second hadn't been so long.