Kingdom Come [Yona of the Dawn]

Speak

-

     At moonrise, under a keen, careful, well-trained ear, the flutter of coarse garment folds against each other can be picked out underneath the quiet breathing of the wind and the shuffling of a restless grass.

rustling, rustling

Next to the crawling of the ant, drums the wooden footsteps, and just a little above the snoring of the lark, rattles the icy chains wrapped around her right arm.

clinking, clanging, gently

    Miok walked among the sounds of the night, catching them along the wrinkles of her black robe and soaking it into the crooks and crevices of her clogs. If night had a shadow, Miok would be that— a drop of dusk; an obscure, watery, black reflection.

    Oh, but let her roar!

    Let her dignified, black blood rush out from her veins, let it bubble and froth at her scaly throat. Let the earth shake as her cry overpowers every thought and will, let her cast them aside, as she grapples and empties the mind of anything but the reverberating tones rumbling up from the depths of her heart!

    She is Dragon Black, Heilong, swinging a voice and a command of a beast! Her throat burns for a purpose, and she thirsts for meaning in the war before Dawn.

-

    He didn't want to, but the white snake insisted upon it, and his insisting led to the princess' insisting, and he couldn't deny that after the bodyguard promised to be annoyingly close, and Yun wanted to purchase and trade things and prepare for the longer journey like the responsible, genius pretty boy he was, and Sinha— well, Sinha didn't do anything wrong, but he wasn't helping the case at all— so Hak, grumbling all the while, entered glittering Mihako City against his will.

    Hak aggressively drove his boots into the dirt, scuffing up tracks in the alleyway, in hopes of keeping Kija's shining, exotic silver hair, and pure skin, and most importantly his white, scaly, snake-skinned arm in the narrow street's shadows.

    Hak supposed he should've taken a thankful disposition that Kija's apparent dragon-o-vision told him to follow the same, dark, winding paths of the otherwise brilliant city, or they would've been wanted, caught for officials, or remembered by the scholars in the bright streets and other tradesmen studying in Mihako's famed guilds.

    "I can sense the Black Dragon's presence! Strongly!" Kija yelled, again, for the whatever time (but really, it was to convince Kija himself more than anything).

    With something like a sigh, the ginger drummed his fingers against his folded arms, impatiently and cynically watching the White Dragon skid into a thick, dirty wall. "Man, if Sinha hadn't backed you up before we decided to check out the city, we wouldn't even be dawdling around here."