“Good, can’t have you falling ill tonight." Dorien winked at him.
Dorien's words brought back the fact that they were in the hut to prepare for the ritual. He realized they had not yet discussed it. He suddenly felt a bit queasy. “What will happen in the ritual?" He asked, looking at his brother.
There was a very long pause as Dorien gathered his thoughts. “Even as we bathe, the women are readying the ritual hut. When we are done here, I will take you there. A chosen elder will join you and bring you to manhood." Dorien answered. “Then you will take the duties of an adult and can even start to build a home if you want for a future housemate. You have the slips so will not have to work as I am to ready such a home." There was a tinge of envy in Dorien’s voice.
Alador missed it for in that moment he had been imagining Luciesa, a very aged elder. He groaned again at the idea of an elder joining him at all, let alone in the manner of glimpses he had stolen from the inner circle. “Why does it have to be an elder?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Dorien laughed. “I remember feeling the same way." Dorien splashed his brother fondly, and his eyes danced with merriment. “I assure you, tomorrow you will not be complaining, brother." He splashed his brother playfully once more. “Right now you are the envy of every middlin. Enjoy it!" Dorien leaned over and added a bit more meraweed. “Obviously you need a bit more than most." He teased the younger man with a wide toothy smile.
Alador smiled for the meraweed did indeed lull away many concerns and, even with his worries and confusion, he could feel his body slowly relaxing. He tipped his head back enjoying the steam and the gentle movement of the water. His brother was silent, letting Alador relax. He closed his eyes and let the sleepy haze wash over him. Meraweed had the potential to sap one's very fears away. He decided to just let it work. With his eyes closed, the heavy vapor and the warm water swirling over his body, he slowly fell asleep.
“I tell you Pruatra, Keensight is power hungry and a fool." Renamaum snarled. He watched his mate closely as she stirred the water the three eggs were bathed in. Their steaming movements rocking the eggs gently. Her talon shimmered with magic as she heated the water about them.
He could not help but soften as he watched her. She was so careful and gentle with their eggs. He eyed them with loving regard. His fledglings would not become power for the mortals. He would not let them be sacrificed to the greed of Lerdenians.
As mortals drained the magics of the dragon race, it was slowly draining the magics of the world around him. He could feel the loss of each dragon soul. The carnage had slowed since the dragons had spread their wings beyond the Great Isle. When the last dragon drew its breath, the mortals would lose their own ability to touch the power of the great pool. All dragons knew how to reach this hidden place. They knew how renew the magics they were imbued with from birth. It could only be reached by flight.
It was the dragons that were able to drink from the pools of magic and spread its blessings about Vesta. Keensight focused on the betrayal of mortals to the ancient pact. Created by Krona, his was the way of death and destruction. His red scales a gleaming reminder of the embers that burned within him.
Renamaum remembered the people that had stood between his own father and the great mage who had stolen power from an alpha of the Black Flight. Renamaum wanted to bring back the time of alliance having an affinity for the desperate passions of the mortal races. In doing so, he would protect the future generations of dragons. He eyed the eggs. Each year there were fewer new dragons.
Pruatra looked at her mate. It had taken her some time to respond. Like her mate, she was blue in scale and power. Unlike him, her body was lithe and snake like. A trait from her father whose purple and black scales had appealed to her mother. Her voice, a sultry purr that mirrored the way her tail slightly flicked back and forth had ripped him from his thoughts of the past and what was to come. “Perhaps Keensight has the way of it. Maybe we need to rid ourselves of this mortal race and keep our children truly protected." Her tone became calculating and held an edge of judgment as she spoke.
Renamaum stared at her in disbelief. His deep throaty tones took on an edge of a growl. “Pruatra, surely not you as well? Without the mortal races, what is to keep us from reverting back to the beasts they believe us to be? They create items of great beauty. They sing songs of passion and sorrow. These are things I would have my fledglings see.”
Pruatra looked over to the mound of gold and gems interwoven with sea grass that made their bed. She loved such things. Renamaum knew how much she loved her treasures. These things would be lost to them if the mortals fell. There would be no new sunken ships to raid for treasures lost to the mortals. He watched the battle within her, apparent by the difference in the flickering of her tail. No longer did it dance for him but rather flipped back in forth in agitation. He could tell a lot by her tail. He smiled as she growled in frustration for it meant she would concede his point.
“All right, go to the council and know you speak for me and our fledglings. But know this, if any mortal touches an egg of mine or the fledgling of our mating, I will kill a thousand fold for retribution of what was lost." Her growl filled the cavern to emphasize her point. Her tail moved about in the water to swirl protectively about the three eggs that rocked from the movement of the water.
Renamaum knew better than to push his mate. He also knew she meant every word she had just uttered. She did not hold the mortals in favor in any way. Not even those that refused to steal from the dragon race's blood. He turned his bulk and slipped into the water that hid the entrance of their cave. He had to convince the rest of the gathering that there was another way. A war on mortals did not need to be declared. He had to save not only his fledglings, but the magic of all mortal fledglings to come.
“Alador, come on lad, wake up! It is time." The feel of something lightly tapping his arm brought Alador jumping up and looking about in a bit of a panic. He searched for dragons in the steaming water.
“Easy lad, you fell asleep." Dorien put out two hands in a non-threatening gesture. His usual warm smile was on his face, and he clearly looked amused at Alador’s reaction.
Alador was breathing heavy as he looked about. He gradually came to some sense, but the meraweed was heavy in the air and his reactions were slow. The room cast in the steaming of the bath was much like the water that had moved between the two dragons. His brother standing there looking slightly amused helped to bring him back to reality. He slowly nodded to Dorien to indicate he was aware of where he was.
His brother crawled out and wrapped a towel about his waist then held out a towel for Alador. “It is heating up again. I don’t want to get burned so let’s not take any chances. Besides, I believe we have been in here long enough." Dorien frowned down at the pool. “I will see if there is something that can be done to divert the heat if this is going to continue.”
Alador swiftly crawled out and began to towel off. Dorien eyed his brother and then smiled slightly. “Maman brought the ceremonial clothing." Dorien nodded to a small pile on a nearby stool.
Alador looked horrified. They had not been here when he had fallen off so his mother must have brought him when he was sleeping. He suddenly was glad for the steamy haze. Even if it was his mother, he had been naked. Alador toweled off and reached for the pants. He looked at them in shock as he held them up. “Th…these can almost be seen through?" He stammered out in alarm. The white linen was thin and soft but definitely somewhat transparent.
Dorien laughed. “You are not going to the mine, brother. Come on, get dressed. The robe will cover up a bit more. I find it hard to believe you are so shy about this. It is not like you have not been seated on the circle. I know you have to have stolen a glance." Dorien’s face was lit with the amusement his tone of voice carried. “You would think you were some shy village maiden." Dorien punched him in the arm. “While I bet you have stolen a kiss or two.”
Alador winced for his brother’s loving taps were rarely as light as Dori
en believed. “I have not." He defended quickly. “Mesiande would have punched me.”
Alador pulled on the lightweight pants as his brother still laughing, also began to dress. He picked up the robe. His brother was right, the robe was slightly heavier and was also white. White was an unusual color and only worn for special events. Few Daezun owned their own whites, and so the clothes were often shared. The bleaching process took time so as not to damage the fabric. Most clothes were dyed to darker shades or where the natural cream color of the original cloth.
The rich embroidery on the robes held symbols that Alador did not recognize. When he was done, Dorien walked to him and placed a simple gold coronet upon his brow. It held no stones or symbols. It shined in the dim light, the steam on its metal surfaces catching the flickering lighting.
Dorien settled it in, but it fell over one of his eyes. His head was smaller than most Daezun and so the headband just laid there. Dorien chuckled. “I hope this is the only thing on you a bit small.”
Alador rolled his eyes as Dorien adjusted it, so it rested across the center of his forehead. Alador stood uncertain before his brother feeling a bit uncomfortable. He shifted at the feeling of someone else touching him. The clothing felt far too light, and the coronet on his head seemed out of place. No adult ever told a middlin about this night. He had never seen a man emerge from the bathing hut for their ritual. He put a hand to the coronet when Dorien let it go and looked up to his brother with apparent hesitation, and his face held his discomfort.
Dorien nodded with approval looking his brother over. He eyed his younger brother for a long moment then went over to a satchel that sat near the seat his ceremonial clothes had been laid out upon. “Here, drink this." He gently shoved a vial into Alador’s hand when he returned.
“What is it?" Alador uncorked it and sniffed it carefully. It smelt much like the meraweed vapor that filled the room but there was something else. A sharp stringent smell that reminded him of the healer’s hut was blended in it. He held it up to gaze at it. Its amber hues in the little glass vial for flecked with darker spots.
“It is the drink that men take the night of circle. It helps a man mate several times” Dorien grinned at him. “It will also help you not care that there is an elder in your bed." Dorien added as if it was a bit of an afterthought.
For that reason alone, Alador swiftly drank it down. He coughed at the bitter bite that it left in the back of his throat. He stood waiting for some magical effect but other than his stomach churning, he felt nothing. He set the vial on the chair. The idea of an elder touching him or even seeing him in these clothes still seemed quite horrid to him. Why couldn’t it have been an adult? At this moment, it seemed a much better idea.
Dorien moved a rug on the floor and opened a trap door. The door creaked as the heavy wood was lifted from its secure foundation. “This way to the ritual hut Alador." Dorien nodded that he should go down inside.
Alador just stared at him. He had been in this hut so many times. He had never known there was a door there. Then again, it never occurred to him to move the rug. Only the adults were assigned to clean and maintain the bathing hut, now he knew why. He walked to the hole in the floor and looked down. It was a lit passageway that led off from the bathing hut.
“Come on now, let us not keep the council waiting." Dorien shooed him on down the stairs.
“The whole council comes to watch?" Alador’s voice hit a higher octave as he stood rigid at the edge of the stairs.
Dorien laughed hard. He had to wipe his eyes he was laughing so hard. Finally, when he could not stand the look of fear on his brother’s face anymore, did he offer a bit of a balm. “Not literally. I have to go and tell them you are ready and then they will send in the chosen elder.”
Alador climed down and stepped into the cool tunnel. The floor was lined with well swept stones and the walls were marked with symbols much like those on the robes. His brother was still chuckling as they moved down the corridor that seemed to run beneath the village. He couldn’t tell which way they were going. The passage way was lit by torches as he walked down it to another set of stairs. He climbed back up through a second open trapdoor. He stepped into a room with a warm fireplace and a huge bed. The bed was covered in furs and blankets. A table was laid with food and drink as he looked around. He was the only one here, and he looked back at the trap door in confusion. His brother’s head was visable at the top of the stairs he had just climbed, Dorien's hand reaching for the corresponding trapdoor. “What now?" Alador asked. He looked about with fear as he realized that while he knew what was the end plan, he had no idea what would happen in the beginning. His brother was leaving him, and he had a sudden desire to flee back down the passageway they had just come.
“The elder will join you shortly. Get a drink, relax Alador. I promise you, this will not be a night you will regret or forget." Dorien winked at him and shut the trap, settling it back into the floor.
He felt strangely warm, and there was a stirring within him he didn’t understand. Alador paced the room looking at the furnishings. He sat on the bed and bounced up and down on it a few times. It made him dizzy, so he stopped. After sitting stiffly for a bit and watching the door in the wall, he moved to the table of food and poured a chalice of honeyed mead. It was a rare treat, and he smiled as he sipped at it. It felt soothing to his stomach and throat after the bitterness of the vial that Dorien had given him to drink. He wasn’t really hungry though everything looked incredible. When was she coming? Why were they taking so long? It seemed like it had been at least an hour since Dorien had left. He looked at the trap door and once again seriously considered fleeing back down it.
He walked back to the big bed and ran his fingers along the soft furs. His own bed was a mere narrow board with a thin mattress pad made of old blankets sewn inside a covering. This mattress was clearly stuffed with something far softer for his hands almost sank into it. He had never seen a bed like it. His mother’s was fairly nice, but its mattress was softened prang hide and termin feathers. He sat on it once more. He sipped the mead and watched the door in the wall. He wished it was Mesiande that was going to step through it. He imagined unbraiding her long hair and running his fingers through it. He smiled at the idea of laying her down upon this soft bed and slowly kissing her.
The door opened and Alador jumped up, spilling some of the mead on his robe. He cursed softly for these were not his and looked up in embarrassment. Meradeth stepped in and closed it softly. Alador stared at her. He had always seen her as old, an elder. Even when she had guarded the children when the dragon had attacked, he had seen her as merely one of the elders. In that moment, she did not look old. Her hair was loose and brushed until it shined. Although there were streaks of grey throughout it, let down it seemed more to enhance her face. Her body was clothed in a simple white robe much like his. It dropped into a v between her breasts. Although she was older, unlike Luciesa, she was not wrinkled or unpleasing to look at.
Meradeth came towards him as he stood with the chalice of mead in his hand trembling, his eyes watching her every movement. She smiled at him, and when he went to speak, she put a finger to his lips. She took the chalice from his trembling hand and walked back to the table to set it down. She moved back to him with a graceful manner. Meradeth ran her hands slowly up his chest. “Do not worry, Alador. I will be gentle." She whispered and leaned up to grace his lips with her own. Something lurched inside of him, and his eyes widened at the feeling. She slowly stepped back and dropped the white robe off her shoulders then slowly it fell to the ground. He stood staring at her for he had never seen a woman naked so boldly. Every middlin snuck looks at the women when they could, but he had never had a woman stand before him so openly.
Her body was still firm from years of village work. Her breasts were the only sign she was not an adult. They drooped slightly but in that moment, she seemed the most beautiful thing Alador had ever seen. He stared at her in amazement as she walked to him. She pushed hi
m back onto the bed so that he sat before her and Alador did not resist. She ran her hands up his thigh bringing an immediate response from his body. Her lips claimed his and much to his surprise, she touched him, bringing him to full readiness. Something inside him seemed to snap, and his eyes flew open. He growled against her lips, and his arms went about her hungrily with that feral sound. Meradeth cried out in surprise as he pivoted and rolled her onto the bed.
Renamaum spied the lithe blue dragon frolicking in the water. He had smelled her on the air and knew she was ready for mating. Her eye was drawn to his own as she took to the air. He chuckled and thrust up off the ground after her. He loved a little chase from a mate. She was fast and agile. Renamaum banked and turned trying to catch the female. He smiled as she climbed higher and higher into the sky. The two dancing about one another, him grabbing for her and her dancing out of his reach as they spiraled up.
When they could not go much higher, she taunted him, flicking her tail into his face playfully. Renamaum growled and grabbed the tail. The female roared in surprise as she beat her wings to escape him. He used the tail to pull her slowly to him, and when he had her close enough, he lunged, wrapping her into his grip and wings. As he took her, they began to fall spiraling to the earth, his wings holding her close to him. Their bodies hurled writhing through the air towards the ground beneath them. Caught so strongly in his embrace, she was captive to his passions and his grasp made clear who was master. It was not until their death seemed almost certain that the great dragon thrust her away and both their wings snapped open, and they soared back up into the air. Renamaum almost hit the ground having held her a bit too long, and his talons whipped tree tops. The female had safely banked back around to land beside the pool, panting heavily. Renamaum banked and landed roughly beside her, sand flying at the impact. The female looked at him haughtily and with feigned disdain, turned as if to take flight once more. “Oh, we are not done yet." He growled. He pounced upon her before she could take flight, pinning her beneath his great weight.
Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) Page 10
