Heir of the Dragon

The Still

All that night we waited.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the preparations petered out, and the camp grew still. Yet it was an ominous still rather than the peaceful still my body and mind wanted.

The sun rose and still we waited.

Sleepily, I watched Shadaii grow agitated in the waxing light. He paced and kicked at the burnt out fire.

Somewhere around midday I lost the fight with sleep. My eyes grew too heavy and I laid against a fallen tree to rest them. I slept fitfully.

When I woke it was evening again. I could tell Shadaii was not going to last much longer. His head kept slipping from where he was resting it on his hand. Even monsters got tired.

Still we waited.

We were brought a hearty meal of meat and rice by a whispy little Ingryd girl. She said her name was Reyn.

Twice Shadaii went to speak to Lord Jakob but returned with no news.

Soon both of us drifted into sleep on the dirt by our relit fire. The darkness was a welcomed release.

Two days passed, and still no news. Calour sent spies to Tyrelle, and then their return became our reason for waiting. That's what we did. Wait.

I awoke on the morning of the third day happy for the sunlight. The nights had gotten colder.

As the orange light spread across the landscape, I watched Shadaii. He still lay soundly sleeping a few cubits away from me. Breathing quietly, his chest rose and fell in a soft even rhythm. Inwardly I fawned over the innocence in his expression. How could something once so ruthless, a demon with more inner demons than even I possessed, a man whose motives were never black and white, a creature so beautifully deadly--- look so vulnerable; so soft and pure. All the stone-- the hardness I was so accustomed to seeing in his features was gone. It was as if the past that hardened him hadn't been so deeply damaging so as to have reached his subconscious; where his sleeping mind now resided.

I felt I would never forget this image of him lain across the ground; black curls strewn across his docile expression. I quite liked him this way. With his eyes closed, he could be taken for an aristethian; a human man; if not an exotically handsome one.

But, I thought, If he were human, half of what we have in common would be lost.

In fact, all of it would be. I had more in common with this creature than I did with any human. He was half dragon. What a strange thought.

Noises coming from the main cluster of tents near the gate drew me out of my thoughts. It wasn't the cry of battle, but just a buzz of excitement about something or other. This was better than the anxious stillness that had hung over the camp like a thick fog for the last two days. A small prick of guilt in my chest reminded me that it was our fault they'd feared for their lives. Why hadnt the ghere attacked? Had Shadaii been wrong?

Deciding to investigate, I stood quietly and dusted of my cloak. Shadaii would be mad that I didn't wake him, but I couldn't bring myself to.

There was a generous crowd gathered around the gate, and a few turned to look at me as I approached. I found my way to the head of the bunch and came upon the metal gate opened just enough to let one person pass through at once. The source of the distraction was obviously coming from through it. I waited while a jolly looking robust woman wormed her way out through the opening ahead of me, and then slipped through myself.

When I realized what the reason was for all the excitement my breath caught in my throat.
There he stood, fur blown about by the wind, being approached on all sides by ingryd soldiers, all too afraid to get within touching distance. The expression in his green and blue eyes was impatient, but placid.