AN: Before we begin, I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read this story. It was kind of just an idea I had in my head for awhile now, and considering I wanted to get into writing. I thought it would be good practice. But anyways, I just want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays.
Oh, and I'll be posting important one-shots in The Grand Expedition, and posting unrelated stories, taking place in The Grand Expedition's world, in a separate story. The poll was balanced (including guest), so to satisfy both parties I will be posting as such.
Wilmarina watched the rift fluctuate and waver. It's vibrations, blinding light, and swirling winds gave her a feeling that this portal was born of holy magic, but she could feel no angel's presence, no touch of God, no warmth from this writhing tear in reality. The wagon, in which she sat, began to slowly move into the rift's event horizon, and as the minotaur pulling the wagon entered. She felt the world rush before her eyes as she and everyone else was drawn through.
She had expected a rush, the chance to see the world between worlds, perhaps even the void that led them to other worlds. She had expected a flash in the pan that was cosmic transportation, but no, she felt nothing; she felt no flash of fire, no rush of speed, no all-consuming sense of smallness. She simply found herself nestled in her seat in another place, in another time, in a world that was entirely foreign to her.
The world that greeted her was that of a mountain range in stark contrast to the plains they resided in mere moments ago. The gentle rumble of the wagon wheels was replaced with stressed clacks as they had suddenly appeared upon a cobblestone road. To the east was the slope of the mountain that led to a tall forest, with trees far taller than any local forest had to offer, and to the west was the vast mega structure that was Dundorma's walls.
Even beyond the walls she could see the vast city of Dundorma rise straight into the clouds with which massive concrete buildings, with a sloping stairway that rose higher and higher until she felt herself grow dizzy from how far up it went. The great smokestacks coming from the smithies coming from the southern district gave her a distinctly dwarven feel, but it appeared that this city was more than just industrious if the healthy sky-blue of the water coming from the walls were anything to go by.
"Everyone here?", Ace called.
The young hero patted herself down, checking to see if her family sword was in good condition, and her armor for damages. Despite the filth that came with a many a days' travels, and the smell that came with it; she was fine. She hadn't lost her weapon in the traversal between worlds, she didn't feel the grace of the Chief God leave her, and there were no foreboding horrors waiting to ambush her.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned to see the other heroes and monsters taking in their surroundings. The minotaur was busy shying away from the sun, her eyes appearing irritated by the mere glance of light. The bunyip leaned out the window, taking in the other world in utter fascination, while the female werecat clutched onto Ace's back. The hellhound clambered past the hero, and began to frantically stretch her legs as tears of pain eked out from her burning eyes.
Her fellow heroes disembarked from the wagon, none worse for wear. Mimil meandered for a second, touching the grass, the rocks, sniffing a flower, before promptly pulling out a pair of shears and snipping it at the base. Mersé marveled at the walls that put castles to shame, and began vocally pondering on whether or not she could get some blueprints for when she retook Lescatie. And Primera simply stared into the wilds with nostalgic wonder.
By the time they had gained their bearings, a group of representatives had descended from the city entrance. A troop of men of women marched in unison, each wielding lances thrice their size, shields larger than they really needed to be, and armor heavier than any equipment a hero would even think to wear. At the center of their formation was but a young woman, or at least a woman that appeared to be young.
She had long pointed ears, a distinct feature that attracted Primera's interest. She wore a long pink and purple dress, jewelry made from this world's minerals that shined bright green and blue, and though her feet were hidden beneath the dress; they could see the tiny, clothed talons drift into view.
The greeting force came to halt before the wagon, tense, but they were curious more than afraid. None the less, the soldiers leveled their giant lances on the mamono and heroes alike, but Dawn's presence kept them form arresting the other-worlders.
Wilmarina marveled at the ridiculous size of their weapons and armor, and while she was sure that Mersé was coming up with her best compensation joke. The young hero found the display of strength to be intimidating. How these people could possibly wield such massive weapons was beyond her, perhaps even beyond the average heroes of her world.
'I guess that Great Sword is standard for this world. These people are so much more than just… strong' she relaxed as her guiding hunter gestured for them to lower their weapons, 'but at least they're reasonable.'
"Master Hunter," the elf-like woman gestured for her escorts to act at ease, "may I ask why you came back earlier than scheduled...? And why you brought these," she paused, unsure on how to refer to heroes and mamono, "natives with you?"
It was at this time that Ace chose to make himself known. He stumbled out of the wagon, Mia still following close behind. Her fur and hair standing on end as they passed by the heroes. She would look at them before quickly turning away, shaking at the sight of Mersé and shying away from the half-elf's glare.
"My apologies for the sudden entrance, mam," besides Dawn and Tatsuo, the party were taken aback by the palico's change in demeanor, "but to make it brief. The out-worlders are here to represent their world's peoples, and I and my fellow felyne were transformed after crossing the rift."
Tatsuo clambered into a seat beside Dawn as if to validate Ace's claims, though the Wyvernian only recognized Ace's equipment as proof. Nodding in realization, she points to Mia and asked, "Is she a felyne as well? I believe the expedition was a three-man group, did you happen upon a stranded palico during your venture?"
Ace turned to the frightened werecat, and then back to the Wyverian with an unsure shrug, "This is Mia, she's a werecat, a monster from the other world."
"I see," the woman nodded, "she does have quite the uncanny resemblance to your new form. Samuel," her left most guard saluted, "please escort the Ace Palico, Tatsuo, and our werecat guest to the Scriveners lodge… the rest of you will be escorted to the Elder Hall. I'm sure His Immenseness would want to meet with these 'representatives' personally."
The gates rumbled as the great wall's whirling mechanisms echoed out across the mega structure. Wilmarina had seen great machines before, she had fought advanced Gremlin mechs and defended against hostile automatons, but she had never seen something as ridiculous as Dundorma's gate system. The defensive structure would have overshadowed Lescatie, let alone her walls, and the forest around it.
The metal gate was a mossy green, a metal she believed to be tungsten, perfect for resisting dragon fire, but the appearance was off; it was greener than it should be. The materials of the wall itself resembled the concrete walls of Lescatie at first, but the texture, even at a distance, was alien as well. While the Lescatian walls were smooth to the touch, albeit worn from many years of Demon Realm raids; these walls were rough, chiseled till flat, and they were more akin to the caves sculpted by centuries of isolation than man-made goliaths.
"Sir Dawn," Wilmarina asked the hunter, "what should I expect from 'His Immenseness'? Is he some kind of king?"
"You'll see when we get to the top of the mountain," he pointed to the central spire, "His Immenseness rest within the Elder Hall.", Dawn gave her a reassure pat on the shoulder, "He is intimidating in person, just keep your composure in his presence, and you will make a good enough impression."
Mersé scoffed, "I expect a mountain of a man, Hunter," she jabbed Dawn's side, "you've been building up this 'His Immenseness' guy for days now, and I'm starting to think you're just jacking him off at this point."
"I would hold my tongue if I were you," the elf-like woman interjected, "you will pay proper respect to His Immenseness. He may not take offense to your jeers, but disrespect onto our elders is universally frowned upon.", She adjusted her dress, if only to restraighten her attire, heedless of the saber at her waist, "Just a word of advice of course."
Mersé clicked her tongue, and grinned, "At least your people got some bark, Hunter. Let's hope the big boy doesn't disappoint… Try to keep up Elt, we don't have all day!"
"I'm sorry!", Francesca voice called back, "Elt is untangling my dress at the moment!"
Whatever enthusiasm Wilmarina felt was immediately drained from her being. And though she was glad to have her old childhood friends back, it hurt more than she it should have when she saw them marching ahead, hand in hand. Her only comfort came in the form of the bunyip's claw on her shoulder. The young hero decided to dwell on her comatose father instead, at least she had the chance to hope for good fortune.
-0-
Pluck took the Dragon Knight's sword in claw, he gave the weapon a couple untrained swings, while Alto-Eris adjusted his sloppy stance. She had wielded the broad sword with both of her claws, yet he found the single-handed grip more fitting. Whether or not that was because his claws were bigger than hers, or if he simply leaned towards a dominant claw, he didn't know.
What he did know was that it felt wrong, like he had taken up a twig to bash a rival's head in when he had a set of daggers for fingers. He knew this to be irrational, he knew his claws were lesser to proper weaponry, yet the young Elder couldn't shake the feeling that what he was doing was wrong. Every swing, even when properly instructed, was uncomfortable. Every technique he tried, every stance he was shown, it all felt so wrong, and yet he couldn't think of a reason why.
"You're getting better," Alto-Eris exclaimed, "but it might be easier if you try holding it like this!"
She would grab his claws whenever she offered her assistance, and as far as he was aware this wasn't a sexual act. Though the blush on the dragon's face made him believe Lowen had lied about the significance of such contact. Taking the sword from his hand, she placed it into another grip, one that felt familiar, but just as uncomfortable as the others.
He now held the blade on the inside of his frame with his sword-arm positioned like was prepared to pierce with his talons alone, and open sided wing taking the function of a shield. Alto-Eris had taken to standing behind him in a mock frame for him to copy. Body-to-body they stayed there for a moment; Pluck thinking of what this stance reminded him of, while Alto-Eris waited for his response.
"This is familiar," the dragon girl's excitement flew high, but it was quickly dashed, "but it's wrong… all of this feels wrong."
Sighing, Alto-Eris unwrapped herself from the Elder's back, and took her sword back after he offered it to her. Sheathing it, she asked, "Is the balance off, or is the sword just not the weapon type you feel comfortable with…?", Pluck merely stared at her, completely unaware of what she was talking about, "I didn't overstep your boundaries, did I?"
"No," was his short reply, and he took the position they were in before, "this feels right, but there's something missing," he stepped back and cupped his chin in thought, "what is it?"
"Perhaps a lance or a javelin would be more fitting?", She offered.
Pluck ignored her and began thinking back to how he used to fight. Closing his eyes he resettled into his stance, but this time he was lower, closer to the ground than he should be. Laying both of his claws on the ground, he rounded his left wing into a shield-like cover, and he slowly began setting his right wing until the muscles contracted and he felt the ligaments extend.
"What are you doing?"
His wing shot forth, the three prongs unfurling into a spinning lance that stuck through the wall of a nearby building, before just as quickly slinking back into its original position. Opening his eyes, Pluck saw that his wing had pierced the wall completely, considering how clean the hole was. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to see Alto-Eris rubbing her eyes, making sure her eyes weren't lying to her.
Blinking, she stared in disbelief at the hole in the wall. She turned to Pluck and formed the only words that could come to mind, "What was that?"
Before he even had the chance to explain an angered cry sounded from the building, "WHAT! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WALL!"
They looked to each other, nodded in complete understanding, and quickly yet quietly stepped away from the growing rage loudly echoing from whoever was behind those walls. At least they would have if Lowen wasn't standing directly behind them, with a glare that rivaled the sun, and the presence of a vengeful god.
She locked eyes with the mamono and then the Elder, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU TWO D…!"
Without saying a word, Pluck placed a claw over her mouth, kicked out her feet from under her, and scooped her up into his arms before taking off with the clap of the sound barrier following after. By the time the griffon was aware of what happened they were already half a mile in the air. The Elder landed a mile away, just outside of the district he and Alto-Eris were meandering through.
Pluck eased his grip off of her mouth, "WHAT DID I TEL…", he silence her again, receiving the death glare he expected, but he doubted Lowen's usual scolding would have been any better. She stared at him with only his claw preventing the verbal barrage, but as time passed their 'contest of wills' dwindled into a confusing staring contest. Lowen begrudgingly tapped his with a roll of her eyes, she knew Pluck wasn't going to release her until she submitted.
He uncovered her mouth, and she calmly said, "What did I tell you about dragging me into a flight?"
"That I shouldn't carry you like this?", He shrugged with her still in his arms.
Now that she looked at it, Lowen realized that Pluck was carrying her bridal style again, though he was now bracing her neck and legs rather than her head and waist. It was surprisingly comfortable if a tad embarrassing. The young, annoyingly innocent, Elder merely stared at her in what she would normally call a dumb fascination, but she couldn't fault him.
"Just put me down you stupid dragon," she huffed, slightly red in the cheeks as she dropped to her feet, "I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."
"What do you mean?", Even now Lowen could hardly believe him.
'I'm not sure if you need protecting, or a wake-up slap… maybe both,' she sighed, finding the innocence in Pluck's eyes beyond her understanding, "Well…"
Before she even had the chance to explain, their guide landed. Alto-Eris huffed and puffed, catching her breath, and her still flapping wings struggled to grind to a halt. She gave a sheepish grin, and though she was built for this kind of pursuit, having to follow something moving faster than sound was beyond even her.
"Oh, I see you have decided to join us, Miss Lowen," the Dragon Knight bowed, "did Kushala and Reina… want to be alone?"
Lowen grumbled, "I wouldn't say that… But never mind them," the griffon brushed her aside to point an accusatory claw at Pluck, "what were you two doing?!"
-0-
Shizuka's skin crawled with every passing moment, she felt repulsed, agitated, fearful, terrified, everything that was unpleasant and disturbed, and all she could do was bear with it. This was the effect stalwart heroes had on mamono. It was the power of the Chief God that rested within their bosom, their very being was poison to the common daughters of the Demon Lord, and despite herself, Shizuka could do little but shy away.
Most heroes were pleasant to be around, enticing for their strength, attractive for the physique, but the truly devoted heroes were another story. They, unlike their less loyal comrades, gave off the holy power of the Chief God instead of their own Spirit. She couldn't fault them for it, in fact the heroes she traveled with were mostly pleasant, but she found herself squirming beneath their gaze and a thunderous roar in her ears whenever they spoke to her.
Shizuka had prided herself in her new resolve, her newfound bravery she had taken from Dawn's influence, and the strength that came with it. However, it was nothing in the presence of the heroes. She was little more than the timid farm-bunyip she was back in Wicker, and it ate at her. Dawn should have felt this disturbance, this fluctuation in her emotions, but he seemed unaffected by her ordeal. She supposed their connection was wanning after their lack of intimacy.
"Shizuka are you okay," Estrid's voice brought her out of her thoughts, "you're sweating."
The heroes, the other-worldly humans, and Dawn turned to her, concern etched in their visible features. Her shyness was replaced with dread, quickly she covered her face with her hair, and whispered a, "I'm fine."
"You're feeling it too, right," Chloe uttered only for her to hear, "the pressure?"
The bunyip eyed the hellhound with suspicion. She didn't trust her, she wasn't sure she even liked her, and she definitely didn't want her anywhere near Dawn, Ace, or Tatsuo. Chloe has behaved herself since the beginning, but she was wild extremist, and as a civilized mamono like herself knew, she was a danger to her loved ones. Though, guilt still permeated those thoughts; she couldn't exactly fault the young mamono.
"Yes, I feel it, but were almost done with them," Shizuka sighed, her exhaustion evident from the bags beneath her eyes, "maybe I can get some alone time with Dawn after all of this is said and done. Relieve some of the tension…"
"Aren't you afraid of what would happen?", The hellhound pointed to Estrid, "Your minotaur friend has been keeping her hands to herself after Alpha's demon poisoning."
Shizuka's enthusiasm fled as fast as it came, and she too turned to sulking like Estrid, "Yeah, I guess you're right.", Furrowing her brow she tapped on the minotaur's shoulder and whispered, "Are you doing, okay?"
"…I'm fine.", Estrid was crestfallen, her usual resting glare was now a mix between anger and shame, her shoulders slumped instead of pulled back, and her skin paler than it used to be. Something was eating at her, but Shizuka couldn't say what.
Seeing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her brooding friend, Shizuka turned her attention to Dundorma, the capital of the Hunter's Guild. It was massive in every way that you would expect. The aged cobblestone streets were great, not only in width but in length as well, as they stretched as far as the eye can see. The stone-like concrete buildings reached far higher than she thought possible, and the sky was littered with airships as large, if not larger, than the wagon they rode in on.
It was alien, as she expected it to be, but familiar in the more mundane parts. People went about their day, occasionally gawking at the mamono, but otherwise indifferent to their presence. Creatures with cat like appearances and more elf like people went about their business undisturbed.
What caught her eye however were the hunters, clad in monsters parts and carrying weapons that were often larger than they were tall. Her gaze lingered on their armor; a common mix between scales and metal, carapace and hide, reflective chitin and glistening gems. Their weapons no different, though they seemed far more alive than Dawn's Great Sword with the claws, fangs, and scales covering the blades and blunts.
To say she found their equipment grossly unsettling would have been an understatement. At least Dawn's armor more so resembled animal fur and ancient stone. These low-ranking hunters, they wore armor made from monsters that resembled mamono from her world. The worst thing about them was the fact that they were friendly.
The hunters would march through the streets carrying supplies they brought back from their outings. They talked with merchants and farmers, scheduled plans with peers and friends, she even saw a few writing reports for their partner scholars. The hunters were normal, and that's what bothered her the most.
'How could monster hunters be so… human?', Shizuka's frown deepened, 'These people kill for a living, and they don't even seem to care.'
She turned to Dawn, he was listening intently to one of their escorting guards, a gruff man whose face was hidden beneath his helmet's faceguard. The man was filling him in on what he missed in the past two week, while Dawn listened intently, completely silent.
The detail Shizuka took notice of was that Dawn was quieter here, one could call his expression content if the energy in his step was anything to go by. In fact, now that she thought about it, Dawn had yet to say much of anything after the Wyverian came to greet them.
'Is this what Dawn is like when he's comfortable?', Shizuka paled, 'Have we… have I been making Dawn uncomfortable? I should ask him if he needs space, yeah! But wait, that would just add to the talking, and make him annoyed! No, no, no I should… I could just be with him and be quiet, yeah that's it! I'll just…!'
"It looks like your snake-friend there is having a panic attack," the guard talking to Dawn pointed to her, "something wrong with her?"
Shizuka physically froze in place as Dawn turned to look at her. His pearly blue eyes stared back into her golden glow, and for a moment she was calmed. His expression however replaced that sense of relief with shame. He was concerned, and while that sparked joy in her heart, she didn't want to stress Dawn more than she already has.
"I'm fine," Shizuka's gave him a cracked smile, "just not feeling well at the moment."
Dawn stood straighter, his confusion evident, "Are you sick?"
"NO, no," she calmed her thundering heartbeat, "I'm just nervous that's all, you know… new place, new people, new experiences!"
They eyed her with suspicion, the guard more so than Dawn. The shorter man shrugged and went back to facing forward, not finding anything worthy of note in the bunyip's nervous grin, while Dawn continued to glance at her from over his shoulder before resuming their conversation. The little hellhound beside her jabbed her side, a slight puff in her cheeks.
"You shouldn't be lying to Alpha," Chloe quietly chided, "it's not good for group cohesion."
Shizuka exhaled slowly, her anxiety melting into disdain, "Aren't you one of Druella's pets or something? Wouldn't our group falling apart be helpful for whatever your 'Lady' has planned?"
Baring her canines, Chloe let a low growl rumble in her throat, "I wasn't sent here for that."
"Then why are you here?", Shizuka snarled back, "Why follow us to the other world?"
"I already told you, I'm a representative for Lady Druella," her anger deflated, "why won't you trust me?"
"Trust you?", The serpent quietly seethed, "You're a member of Druella's horde… your kind give us mamono a bad name. Do you know what it's like for the humans to fear you, to tremble in your presence because a roving band of monsters, you've never met before, raped and pillaged their way to happiness."
Chloe shrunk beneath her gaze, and guilt claimed Shizuka's thoughts once more. The hellhound's whimpered, "I… I've never done anything like tha…"
"But you planned to… didn't you?", Shizuka's fire died.
The little hellhound fell silent, finding the pebbles beneath her paws more pleasant than the conversation. Shizuka's heart fell, covering her mouth in realization, she moved to reach out with a comforting claw, but the sudden shadow over head gave her pause. Looking skywards, she watched in awe as a massive sky ship soared above them.
From far below, she as well as everyone else from her world gawked at the sheer spectacle of a floating fortress. From beneath she saw a pair of massive spears situated at the ship's bow, and the great fire that kept the behemoth's balloon afloat. It moved through the sky with the use of its sail and the relatively gentle spin of its propellers like a great monster of the sky.
"Hunter Dawn," Mimil tugged on his arm, "can you… can you explain how your people got that vessel into the air?!", The little mage gulping down her excitement.
"Oh," he hummed, "that's just the Soaratorium. Don't get too excited now, we have bigger ships than that docked at the Elder Hall."
The young hero's eyes lit up with brilliant fascination, "And where would this Elder Hall be?"
"Where we're going," she didn't seem satisfied, so he pointed to the mountain behind himself, "up there."
"You mean its halfway up, right?", Mersé interjected, a glint of dread in her eyes, but Dawn's amused shake of the head dashed any hope she had. Looking back up the mountain Mersé vocalized what everyone else was thinking, "Fuck. My. Knees…"
-0-
Kushala loved the winds, the rain, the pitter patter of dripping water, the cacophony of storms, and the sensation of control that came with it. He is an Elder Dragon, the steel dragon, the shadow upon the tempest, the destroyer of Lescatie, the Old One Eye. He didn't necessarily like the last title, but he supposed it was fitting. And as far as the mamono were concerned, it was the most prominent thing about him.
His claw glided over the nasty scar running down face. Despite the beauty the mamono insisted he was, it was always the scar that drew their attention, the malformed metal that made up the slice in his armor. It made the insufferable human infants cry, the little mamono whelps shy away in fear, and it caused the mature humans and monsters stare in silent horror.
He didn't mind the fright he inspired, sometimes he even enjoyed it, but the mild disgust sent his way only reinforced his desires. He had sought out his rival, the human man responsible for his maiming called Master, and the old man's students.
He still remembered their names if only because their comrades would scream them during a hunt; there was Julius, he was the fair skinned male student, he had platinum blonde hair, blue eyes same as his own, and he wielded a sleek variation of the Dual Blades. And the other important one was Nadia, the dark-skinned female student, he remembered her long black hair and eyes, but her weapon inspired his ire the most, a Heavy Bowgun.
Touching his scar, he relived the sting of the male's steel, and the agitation of the female's Bowgun. He had last seen them in the human capital, their great fortress that his closer kin used as challenging grounds. He remembered a lancer, he was an annoyance, but easily dealt with in time. He remembered a youth, dexterous and talented, but without meaningful challenge to defeat. But it was the fifth hunter that came to mind, the one that proved the most dangerous of their band.
Kushala's throat rumbled as his fury sparked to life, 'I knew that hunter in Lescatie reminded me of something,' flashes of different armors ran through his mind, 'he was the same man that turned the tide,' the Great Sword's blade phantom pains ripped across his stomach, 'I know that feeling… It had to be him.'
"Hello?", He turned his rage to Reina, but her concerned expression only made his inner fire cold, "You don't have to tell how you got that scar if you don't want to."
"No," Kushala sighed, his rage dying in his throat, "I came to a… realization, yes, an epiphany if you will."
"Oooh," Reina grinned, "and what would this epiphany be, hmm?", She circled him, letting her claws gently glide onto his shoulder as she took her place leaning against him.
The Elder nudged her off of him, much to her chagrin, and his own amusement, "I realized that the hunter in Lescatie, the man from my world, was a former advisory of mine."
"Oh," she deflated, "and I suppose you would like to settle the score with this hunter?"
"Very," he smiled warmly, entirely aware of the malicious meaning of his words, "I would like to kill that hunter, his compatriots as well… maybe even the mamono followers if they get in my way."
Reina seized up, and quickly circled back round, "Now, Kushala we've been over this," her eyes flicked from silver to gold, "you're in Dragonia to forget this thirst of yours, not to… enable it."
"Forget… forget my thirst?", He scowled, "Do you think it easy to forget THIS," he presented his scarred visage, "this maimed flesh reminds me every day that the hunters responsible are still out there, that they are alive and well, and unpunished."
"I understand," she placated him, "a wounded pride is terrible, especially for us dragons, but you have to understand that we can't just ravage the world to avenge petty wounds."
"Petty wounds," Kushala growled, his ire reigniting in the thunder storm above, "have you suffered such indignation before, the humiliation of true defeat, the misery of having to tuck your tail between your legs and limp away like a common monster? Have you known this shame, little dragon, because if you haven't; I see no reason to entertain your foolish philosophy."
Momentarily shocked, the dragoness stepped back from him. Allowing Kushala to watch her carefully, catching glimpses of familiarity in the stranger's posture as she recouped for her answer. She stood regal, proud like her kin, but it was unique pride that caught his interest. He had seen this pride elsewhere, but he couldn't think of who it reminded him of.
Confidence renewed, she stepped forward, "I have… I have suffered as you have, Kushala. You need not treat as some ignorant child; I know your pain."
"Then show me.", He leaned closer, scrutinizing her form for blemishes, though he found none.
Frustrated, she placed her claw over her left breast, and after removing it she revealed an oddly colored marking etched into her pinkish flesh. It glowed a crimson red, but after a moment it's power faded until it was nothing more than a black tattoo. Her own power being the only reason it managed to flash to life. The marking itself was that of a brand, a royal insignia that appeared similar to the Dragon Knight's standard, but off in ways he couldn't quite identify.
Unaware of social conventions, Kushala place his claw on her breast, and felt the marking area pulse with heat at his touch. Looking up, he saw the female's face light up in arousal. Sighing, he removed his hand and simply asked, "What is it?"
"A slave brand," she slid her claw over the marking to erase it, "I was a slave during the time of the Dragai Empire. I was shackled to my cave, force fed magic infused meats that poisoned my mind, and forced me to obey the cruel commands of the original Dragon Knights. My physical scars from that time may have faded, but the memories remain."
"I see…"
"If I can forgive mankind for my abuse," she smiled brightly, a reassuring spark in her features, "I'm sure you can too."
Kushala stared Reina down with an intensity that would boil water if it were light. He breathed in fresh air from his nose, and then exhaled from his mouth in a bid to kill his own rampaging thoughts. Rubbing his side, he felt the area that once had a similar imprint to her brand, though his markings had shed from his body after years upon years of survival.
He remembered the shape, a circle with a number at the center of it, and an etching along the rim that read what he was meant for. He remembered that there were three different etchings, one that always led the Elder to the great kiln, the second that led to the breeding chambers for further production, and then there was the third etching, the mark he was given.
The third etching would lead the unfortunate Elder to the construction site where he and his kin would wait for slaughter at the hands of complex machinery and man. He was lucky that he was a runt, he was allowed to grow older than his brothers and sisters, though it didn't matter in the end. What was a life in a cage in comparison to a short snap and crunch that the machines offered.
"You seem lost in thought, Kushala," Reina leaned closer, "did I bring up painful memories again?"
'Again?', The Elder shook himself of his past trauma, "No, no, you don't need to worry about me," he smiled warmly, finding a sense of kinship with his fellow marked, "how about we get back to this tour of ours, hmm? I would like to see what this kingdom of yours has to offer."
AN: I'm in Italy for Christmas this year. Having a military family has its benefits, and considering that I live in Southern US, I don't get to see snow often. The jet lag sucked, but I'm happy to be with family. Regardless, onto the review responses.
Review Responses:
54godamora:
Glad you liked it. I hope your finals don't murder you like mine tried to do to me.
Bullshit:
Pretty sure you didn't read the story. Still contemplating on whether or not to delete these kinds of reviews.
Guest 02:
I like to think that Kirin Butter is a type of dairy that makes use of Thunder Element. I imagine milking a Kirin would cause electric burns.
Oh, and bleh bleh-bleh and other vampire noises.
Antonio Manco:
I'll get cigs next time.
Bezos and Milo:
I really am tired at looking at my reviews and seeing these people, I guess I should have expected less from those kinds of readers. I still stand by what I said regardless.
Astevalus:
I would dragonate a dragon girl if you know what I mean. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Guest (new reader):
Monke… I hope you enjoy the coming chapters. I do intend for my writing to appeal to MH fans.
Guest (KC Discussion):
MGE is not getting deleted you silly fool, it's just getting removed from Fandom because a bunch of the commie moderators don't like weird monster girl related sex fantasies.
While I find KC's writing skills, and more importantly his rules regarding fan creation, to be questionable at best; though I would say he is very good at world building. He seems to just want his setting used for its intended purpose. How would you like it if someone wrote a story shitting on your work? NewType didn't like it too much.
I won't be defending Omega's shlock or other stories like that, but I wouldn't assume KC supports that kind of stuff either.
Though I would like to leave a reminder that MGE is a setting made for sexual fantasies. There's something for everyone, and I mean everyone; regional sensibilities be damned. That being said a lot of the monster girls are just weird or lean to heavily on their sources for design. Best to pick and choose what you like from MGE and not to simp because you liked one mamono's design.