by Sain Artwell
Alron wrapped her in the largest embrace he could, even wrapping his cloak around them. Gently, he stroked her hair.
Fei sobbed. “I’ll… I-I should stop. I’ll stop here, before I say too much. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Forget what I said. I lied.” She tried hard to hide her tears.
Alron held on to her, and did not let her go. “Fei…”
“No! It’s not fine!” she snapped. “Last night, and the nights before, ever since I left, I couldn’t get back there. I couldn’t see them anymore. I’ll never see them again! And it hurts. It hurts more than the torture did. It hurts more than the thought of you dying! Can you imagine that? I actually miss my hallucinations more now than I ever missed you!”
Her expression was broken in confusion, wet with tears. “What can you say to that? Nothing.”
He replied calmly, “I used to dream those same dreams, until you died. I was a piece of driftwood on the Nameless Island. I did not think. I simply existed, and slowly rotted beside Carrion Scourge’s corpse. Afraid of my own dreams, I indulged in his memories, and there I would have stagnated until the end of my days. Fei, your hallucinations gave you strength to escape. By proxy, your delusions stirred me from my stupor. I, for one, am thankful for them. From the bottom of my soul, I thank you for coming to find me. I won’t blame you for aching for a dream world you lived in for a century. Of course you would long for it. Even the greatest lives are mere ghosts of what they could’ve been. I’ll never be your darling. I won’t even attempt to be him.”
“Then I’m—”
“I was never great with plans, beside tactical objectives of war. It could be why we are here, and not on that farm by the waterfall with a half-hundred hatchlings. What I know is: I’m here. I’m now. I’ll listen to your dreams if you can share them. And, when you’re ready to wake up, I’ll be here.” Alron brushed her cheek, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ready to claim you from your darling.”
Fei stared at him in a strange stupor.
“Kiss me then,” she mumbled. “Kiss me. If you’re to claim me, you need to do it,” Fei insisted, her fists clenching the hem of her tattered clothes.
“Fei, we were finally speaking with honesty. I appreciate it. Why not discuss our thoughts for a while longer?”
“Enough honesty,” Fei grumbled, leaning into Alron. Her supple breasts pressed against his stolen navy jacket, and her naughty fingers tugged at his belt. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet? Why haven’t you ravaged me yet? What are you waiting for? Permission? You have it!”
“I wished to know the new you…”
“Pssht! You’ve had women you’ve known nothing about, and used them like cheap rags.” She tip-toed, her lips brushing his chest, climbing it to the root of his neck. Her clawed fingers dug into his ass and shoulder, her voice deepened into a needy hiss. “Use me. Make me scream and drag me back from my dreams to the now. I don’t need words. I don’t need honesty. I need your cock.”
Alron grinned, seizing her gently by the nape of her neck. “What’s the hurry?”
“Alron. For a hundred years I dreamt of my eggs being fertilized by you. For a hundred years I dreamt of all five of us entangled in a pile of lust and pleasure. For a hundred years my womb has fermented in horny agony, as I was unable to even touch myself! You say you accept my madness, but I swear, if you do not take me soon, you will witness insanity that would make the stars wink their eyes shut.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Alron traced the curve of Fei’s back from shoulder to hip, while sampling the thought of intimacy.
She licked her dark lips. A hunger burned in her eyes, a yearning for him. Her figure had filled ever so slightly since they’d commandeered the battleship. It was still a little slimmer than in his memory, but noticeably softer and rounder, having regained some of the elegant beauty she’d possessed before. Fei peeled up the tight black skirt of her stolen uniform. Scars covered her legs. But, when he laid his hands on her thighs, her flesh felt as supple as decades ago.
Moaning, with that beautiful silvery voice of hers, Fei sent sparks through Alron’s spine. She pressed herself against his touch, and lifted her hem higher to expose a garden of silky white hair adorning her puffy slit.
Smeared across her inner thighs, her arousal flickered under the flickering shiplights like the erotic cousin of morning dew. Running his hands up her thigh, Alron paused to relish her warmth. He pressed her lower lips, eliciting another moan, then slid his fingers behind her for a deep indulgent cop of her pert derriere.
“Mm… You make a compelling argument,” Alron whispered.
“Yessss…” Fei nuzzled against his chest, undoing his buttons with her teeth and tongue. “Take me,” she murmured, grinding her sloppy sex on his thigh, until he could feel the wet arousal seeping through the fabric. “Let me taste you. Let me feel your cock and cum inside me. Make me forget everything but the now, where I’m yours to use as you please.”
“Mad as a hare in heat…” Alron said, lifting a hand off her ass to part Fei’s lips with his thumb.
“Nnngh?” She nibbled the thumb, sucked it in, and closed her eyes.
While grinding his leg, she pleaded with a thumb in her mouth, “You’ll have your romantic soul sharing, after you chase away the generations of spiders from my womb. I swear it. Now hurry, hurry!”
He leaned in for a taste of her lips, and found an eager tongue to greet his. Forgetting the world beyond Fei’s gorgeous body, and her lust inducing whimpers, Alron felt a tension in his shoulders relax. The threads binding their dragonsouls tensed, and though it was slow, the tear began to mend, as the dragonsouls remembered their places: His above, hers below. He traced a line of kisses down her neck, where a bite drew forth a purring murmur for more.
Hard and ready, Alron pinned Fei to the wall by her horns and slid his fingers into her sticky nether garden. Plump lips parted under pressure. Although Fei was writhing with need, growing crazier by the minute, Alron kept his pace steady and his head calm, fully intending on savoring every second of…
“Ahem,” someone cleared his throat.
It took Alron moments of kissing to realize Bronzebeard stood by the corner, his back turned to them.
“Ahem,” Bronzebeard cleared his throat again.
Alron closed his eyes and steadied his breath before leveling a dissatisfied glare at the captain. “Pray the stars that I approve of your reason for interrupting us.”
Bronzebeard spun around, then quickly around again after his eyes had erred to snatch a glance of Fei’s half-stripped visage. “Ack! M-my apologies, Alron! But, you are in the middle of a hallway, not that I’m implying that is a sufficient reason for my intrusion, I would never! You know me. I wouldn’t judge others for publicly displaying their passions. It’s merely an observation, yes? And the reason… Ahem. We’ve detained a survivor from an enemy vessel at the brig. This particular vessel, an odd one at that, was flying the flag of diplomacy. The sole crew member refused to speak to anyone but you. And thus, your urgent guidance is requested.”
Alron raised his lips from Fei’s skin. “You have your orders. Kill her.”
“Yes.” Bronzebeard nodded, raising his finger. “Yes, I do recall your instructions. I was about to, but the diplomat said she knew your friend. Now, I hope you can see how that made me hesitant to kill her outright, on the off-chance that I might myself earn your wrath, yes?”
“Very well…” Alron shoved his erection back in his pants and raked fingers through his hair. A curse nearly slipped from his tongue.
Fei glared death at Bronzebeard’s back, rolling down her skirt. “I’ve killed men for much less.”
“Yes. I am aware. Again, I offer my most sincere apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I mean, I did, but… ack. Well. My intentions were noble.”
“Let us see this prisoner of yours,” Alron said, unable to mask the frustration in his voice.
Bronzebeard gestured for him to follow. “Right this way.”
“I’ll look for that rat of yours,” Fei said, a dangerous look in her eyes. Blue flame licked up her body, as she turned into Living Flame, and then invisible. “Need something to kill…”
“I won’t take long,” Alron said.
Though she disappeared from view, Alron sensed her approach and felt her lips on his cheek. “Hurry,” she said, and left.
“I’m curious, which vestiges does one need to enslave for their dragonfire to produce invisibility? Humour me, it would greatly help with my retirement plans as a deserter. Not looking to chat? Ah, as you wish. Cordial silence it is!” Bronzebeard nodded to himself, hastening his steps.
On their way to the brig, they passed by holes in the hull large enough to glimpse the outside—clouds of mist drifted across waters clear like polished turquoise, and clung to the organ-pink islands.
The vessel had taken further damage yesterday. They’d attempted to reach the Burning Shores to reach Blackmetal City, only to be intercepted by a squadron of warships reinforced by artillery batteries nestled atop a tiny tower-like island. Only when they’d reached Ghostmist Reefs had their pursuers finally given up.
Bronzebeard paused by a round windowless door of blackmetal. He inserted a thick key into a lock. Mechanisms clicked and clacked. Metal chafed against metal.
“There. Should you require any assistance, I can recommend Quartermaster Hal, who has an excellent stomach for violence as a former redcloak of Blackmetal City. I would help myself, but…” Bronzebeard quieted when Alron’s gaze fell upon him.
“Leave,” said Alron.
Bronzebeard saluted with a fist to his chest. “As you wish.”
Alron entered the cell. Dim flickering light reflected from the grimy floor and bare walls of blackmetal.
At the center, spread eagle by her shackles, hung a young woman with a light gray complexion and a bob-cut of charcoal hair. Her only dragonmark was a single stunted horn poking through the right side of her head. It seemed she had yet to fully master even a single vestige.
Leftover arousal from Fei made Alron’s gaze hover at the girl’s breasts and rear. Both were well defined and pleasantly round, much meatier than Fei’s, and… The sounds the captive made, whilst struggling in her bonds, just so happened to be of an erotic tone, which made the whole sight rather arousing. Alron cursed his lustful thoughts, and Bronzebeard’s interruption.
A big metal gag suppressed her dragonfire, and a blindfold and earplugs deprived her of her senses. Seemingly unwise to his presence, the girl struggled to pick a shackle with a lockpick made of hair. Admirable, albeit futile, effort.
Alron glanced at objects laid out on a metal table next to the torture implements. These were her confiscated possessions: Skimpy clothes with multicolored geometric patterns on black fabric, a miniature cannon, ammunition, a leather pack with traveling supplies, a handful of blackmetal coins, leather straps and belts with mechanic’s tools, notes, and various knick-knacks. Alron almost decided to kill her off, before stopping by a compass.
Wrought of blackmetal, the palm-sized piece housed odd pneumatics, which surrounded a freely spinning claw. A glowing scarlet claw which pointed at Alron.
Intrigued, he raised it for closer study. A familiar presence wafted from it, intense like a freshly corked spice jar. Alron’s dragonsoul recognized the claw, with the same nostalgic familiarity he’d felt upon reuniting with Fei. He shuddered.
Mlevanosk’s vestige.
A lock clicked. One of the girl’s shackles fell. She hurried to work on her metal collar next.
Alron laid the compass down. He peeled off the warded blindfold, revealing soft featured cheeks and large black brows. Eyes the shade of magma with yellow fiery irises focused on Alron and drew wide, slit pupils thinning into sharp lines. The girl made a quiet whimper against her gag.
“I do not have the time to torture you. I will not negotiate with the Ascendancy, so choose your words wisely,” he said, removing the metal bulge formerly lodged between her black lips.
“Phuah… Is your name Alron?” she asked.
“It is.”
“Mlevanosk sent me,” her soft, matter-of-fact voice coming so fast she left almost no room between the words. “Please be understanding, I wasn’t planning on escaping from you. I misunderstood and presumed I had been captured by the wrong ship.”
Alron shook his head. This could be yet another ploy by Ascendancy. Anyone could cut off a finger from his lover; bringing one did not prove they were an ally.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. My apologies, Master. My earned name is Sofierov, or Sofi for short. I am a laborer, that is a lesser maintenance mechanic, and my official identification number is S-zero-five-one—”
“Stop. I care not for the naming customs of Blackmetal City. Answer this: Who are you to Mlevanosk?” Alron’s question paused her.
For a moment, Sofi’s face took on an expression of focus as she parsed together her words.
“I have worked as her maintenance mechanic for the last ten and a half years. More specifically, I have been in charge of the maintenance of the vis condenser units of her animation systems. In addition, for almost nine years now, she has been secretly instructing me as her disciple in dragonfire dynamics and pneumatics, and even helped me enslave my vestige. She’s the reason I was able to earn my free name, she’s the reason I’m alive, she’s the one who gave me a purpose. I’m proud to call myself Mlevanosk’s friend!” Such was the earnestness of her voice that Alron believed her.
“She’s alive…”
Groaning, Sofi struggled to adjust her collar with her free hand. “Yes. She has been waiting for you to leave your island for years. Our plan was to bring you into Blackmetal City secretly, by using the amphibian subversive vessel we constructed, a vessel which, unfortunately, broke when your minions captured me.”
Stars above. Alron nearly collapsed from the strike of sheer relief. To think Mlevanosk had survived too? There was yet mercy in this world.
“You will lead us to her. We shall rescue her at once,” said Alron.
“No. She warned me of this reaction. You must understand, she is not exactly whole in body. We must infiltrate the city and prepare a portable animation system to rescue her, or she might die. This will take time, but with your help, we can expedite the process greatly.”
“I gathered as much…” Alron glanced at the compass with Mlevanosk’s vestige.
“The compass is to be a part of a secret weapon she has been preparing. She thought you wouldn’t believe who I am without it…” Sofi slipped down, choking on her collar. “Argh! Help?”
“Of course, how rude of me.” Alron stepped up to help her steady. A whiff of her sweet scent sent urges back to the forefront of his primal mind, drawing his attention to her nude flesh.
“W-what are you… gently, Master…” she whimpered.
Alron caught himself sniffing Sofi’s neck, and grunted in shame. He hurried to snap open her collar. Sofi fell against him with a muted “Eep.” One arm around his shoulder, she clung on, her generous breasts squeezed against his chest. Her cheeks darkened.
“My most sincere apologies, Master, I did not intend to stain your clothes.”
“A moment,” Alron said, snapping the remaining wrist-shackle. He then laid Sofi on the ground and bent down to unlock her ankles. “And my name is Alron. Do not proclaim me as your master, unless you intend to submit your body, soul, and life to be used by me as I wish.”
Sofi pursed her lips together. Her voice fell into a peep. “Most sincere apologies, Masssssster, it is a term I have been trained to use when associating with oldblood and the awakened masters. You were of old Grovemother nobility, if I’m not mistaken?”
“My blood is as barbaric as can be,” he said, eyeing Sofi as she struggled to shimmy into her pants.
The way she wiggled side-to-side and grunted made Alron imagine her grunting beneath him. He was hard again, and cursed Bronzebeard for interrupting his
sex with Fei. It seemed that regardless of his mastery over his dragon-core, he remained a mere man.
Sofi averted her gaze. “Understood, Alron.”
“Good.” Adjusting his trousers, Alron headed for the door. “Gather your possessions. If a clandestine approach would benefit Mlevanosk, it’s best we abandon the battleship. We’ll continue on a lifeboat. I will row, and once we approach the coastal fortifications, Fei will veil us.”
“If that’s the case, may I suggest we take the Brokenwhite Delta, and follow the Whitestreams inland? The mouth is not as heavily guarded as the Burning Shores are, and the river will take us close to Abyssmaw’s southern shoulder. We can find a cab to the city from there,” Sofi suggested.
Alron nodded, and opened the door.
“GLORY TO THE ASCENDANCY!” screamed a haggard man in a shit-stained navy uniform, as he activated a trolley full of fragmentation shells. Dragonfire evaporated the fuses, causing the shells to begin humming in a rapidly climbing pitch.
Sofi screamed and threw herself flat on the floor.
Alron kicked the trolley. The trolley punched the rat in the gut and tripped him over, carrying him all the way to the far end of the hallway. Alron closed the door.
A cascade of loud booms resonated in the ship’s hull, followed by the pitter-patter of ricocheting shrapnel.
When Alron peeked out, only red paste smoke remained of the rat.
