Spoiler
Chapter 3! 
Roscrow had watched his men move the eggs one by one back to the tavern. They placed them with infinite care into a large, padded basket. Fire Flower's rider was able to keep her calm enough that they could move all them all. She continued to hiss and fret.
After a quick inspection of the platinum colour globes, Roscrow came over to Granger. The brute lowered his head, accepting his rider's touch with a mutter of greeting. Roscrow scrached his dragon right under his eyelid where the thick scales turned to skin. Granger's eye closed, a small drop of spittle forming at the corner of his mouth as he purred in pleasure.
"Four eggs with this batch, eh, buddy? You keep going like this and soon half the army will made up of your offspring." Roscrow smiled when Granger murmured to him. War dragons were known to be the most vocal with hundreds of unique sounds. Many times, Roscrow could almost swear he heard Granger talk.
"Living the high life, sir?" Roscrow turned to look up at Kelvin atop his gorgeous dragon, a massive female he had named Beaut. She well deserved the name, her scales the most uniquely irridacent with constantly shifting colors of blue, green, purple, and the occasional pink if the light hit her just right. Her immense gleaming ivory horns curved gracefully around her spiked crown, giving her a regal appearance. There were times that Roscrow felt a bit jealous, but it never lasted long enough to make a full thought in his head.
As the magnificent creature strode over to the commander, she mumbed to Granger. He offered a grunt of greeting, accepting an affectionate nuzzle from the female that was his sister. Out of the whole talon, she was the only one who nearly rivaled him in size. As Roscrow came over to take her reins, Kelvin spoke a word in the Ancient Tongue. Without hesitation, Beaut raised her leg, gently lowering her rider to the ground.
"Ah, you know me, my old friend. I just can't stand the brutality one man can inflict upon another for no damn reason!" He jerked sharply at a strap of Beaut's saddle. The dragon turned her large head to look at him with curiousity. Normally he was a lot calmer. She let out a soothing trill sound that a mother dragon uses to calm her offspring. Having mothered seven broods, she knew all the tricks of the trade. Without meaning to, Roscrow smiled up at Beaut. Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction, considering her job done.
Kelvin chuckled at his dragon. "I'm with you on that one, commander. I would be careful, though, sir. It's not your place to go around saving damsels in distress." Kelvin heaved the heavy saddle off his dragon, handing it off to one of the other soldiers to put it in the barn. Shaking herself, Beaut hunkered down next to Kelvin, stuffing her handlike paws under her chest and curling her thick short tail around her haunches, looking for all the world like a giant, scaly, content cat. While Kelvin wasn't watching, she lowered her head, affectionately mouthing the top of her rider's head. Kelvin immediately started batting at her, but it was too late to save his hair. She looked off into the distance, the most amused and pleased look on her face.
"I swear! One of these days I'll break you of that habit, you damn lizard!" Kelvin swore at his dragon, trying to smooth his hair down.
Roscrow laughed heartily. "She's been doing that to you for the last 32 years, I highly doubt you'll ever break her of it."
Growling, Kelvin couldn't help but grin. "I suppose so."
Roscrow then let out a sigh as they headed over to look at the eggs. "There's just... something about her."
"Oh?" Kelvin peered closely at his friend. "You sure it's not just a knightly desire?"
Roscrow grunted in humor. "No, not even that.
"You know, she has a dragon rider's crest. I've never seen it before. I wonder what family she's from."
"She doesn't know?" Kelvin asked incredulously.
"She says her father would never let her learn her last name. Said he told her it was important that no one see her family crest. It makes me wonder if perhaps he was a traitor to his nation and fled." Roscrow shrugged. "But whatever the reason, her father's burden is not her own. Not in my eyes." He let out a heavy breath. "I just think it's sick that slavery is an acceptable means for reimbursement for finacial debt. whatever happened to the old days my father always speaks of?"
"Those days have died. Ever since the Tamers went into decline and the Dragon Masters began digging their greedy talons into the land and its people." Kelvin gave Roscrow a fond slap on the back. "Don't you think four eggs is kind of odd for a War dragon?" Kelvin changed the subject abruptly.
Roscrow shrugged. "Who knows? Being a halfling, it may be natural. Might want to scout the area, see if you missed one, but I doubt it." He turned away, walking over to the street the tavern was on. The town was tiny, only a few dirt streets and about two dozen houses with a small market. The west side of the town had several acres of farms but nothing too big. He watched as a few of his soldiers headed off into the woods to go hunting, just about the only entertainment here, not to mention the dragons needed feeding.
"I never will understand why the Generals sent us here to wait for further instructions." Kelvin peered around as the townfolk went about the their business.
"Something about staying low profile. Since we're so close to the border to Mardarow they think the Sadgos'Lak Scouters won't risk any further conflicts by crossing their border. For now, Mardarow refuses to get involved, but they won't hesitate to shoot down a Scouter from their neighbors." He gave a sigh. "Get Fire Flower and Blask saddled up. We have to send her back to the Academy. Even if one egg is missing, I doubt they'll care much. All other breeding attempts have failed with others like her. Tell Jander and Mok to get their things. Mok will be very happy to see his family again." There was a twinge of sorrow and longing in the commander's voice.
Kelvin drew closer to him. "I've known you since I was 10 years old, when I slipped into the nest chamber without anyone knowing and Beaut hatched right in front of me. Already I'm starting to look like an old man. You, you've hardly changed since you were 16. That Q'Ra blood of yours will keep you young for many more years than the rest of us. You've got plenty of time to make a family of your own, sir."
Roscrow had to smile at his friend. Patting his shoulder, he turned back to the tavern, heading for the door. Kelvin's chuckle made him stop and turn to glare at his lieutenant.
"All too eager to go back to your bed warmer, eh, commander?"
Grumbling, Roscrow turned away to hide his amusement at Kelvin's mocking tone. He headed up the stairs, though he made a point to glance around, hoping for another chance to put Jeboc in his place. However, the pig was nowhere to be seen, obviously keeping himself well hidden.
Slipping into the room quietly, he found Sre fast asleep on the bed. He pulled off his armor and clothing with barely a sound, slipping into the bed beside her. Sliding silently under the sheets, he smiled down at her sleeping form. She lay on her side, her arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, her legs pulled up as close to her chest as she could get.
With curiousity, Roscrow pulled the sheets away from her naked body, peering a little more closely at her crest. It seemed almost familiar, like he had seen it once so many many years ago. It frustrated him that he couldn't place it.
Sre let out a soft moan, her body shifting slightly in slumber. Roscrow leaned over and feathered his lips along her shoulder. She gave another soft moan, her body unfurling. She sleepily opened her eyes and looked up at the commander. He smiled mischieviously. "There'll be plenty of time for slumber later, my dear...."
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The days went by all too quickly. Before they knew it, a week had passed. The days were hot, the evenings warm. Each day, Roscrow forced himself to leave his room, much less the bed. In order to avoid the sisters and the barkeep, Roscrow brought the food up to his room for Sre. With him, she had already gained some weight.
Her fascination with the dragons fueled most of their conversations, history being the subject of most others. Sre was a quick study, soaking up the information as fast as it could leave his mouth. She was also well versed in ways of pleasuring a man, much to Roscrow's enjoyment.
Laying in bed on his back, Roscrow held Sre close. The warm morning sun shone in on them, pleasant on their naked skin. His hand moved along Sre's smooth skin, feeling her stir awake. He never made her wake up at any particular time, knowing that once he was gone, she would be sleep deprived yet again. Thoughts of his leaving plagued him, knowing what would happen to Sre once he did. But Kelvin's words were true. In this time of war, he had no ability nor any right to free her. He could pay her debt, but where would that leave her? She'd have nothing, be left on her own yet again. For now, no matter how much it hurt him to think of it, here was the best place for her.
"Good morning," Sre spoke softly, smiling at him.
"Ah, all mornings are good with you." Roscrow gave her a gentle squeeze.
A shadow blocked the sun in their window. The dragons honked and roared, snarling and making an aweful ruckus. Startled, Roscrow hurried out of bed, tossing on his clothing as fast as he could. He pulled his boots on just as he opened the door, glancing back at Sre to make sure she stayed before bounding down the stairs.
Reaching the bottom, he could feel his heart sink into his feet. Only one dragon had wings larger than Granger's. The Scouter dragon was a mottled brown color, its belly and underwing a creme. Its body was designed for flight and nothing else. Small, sharp head, very small horns, short neck, a huge, streamlined body, very short legs. Its body was no bigger than a horse, but its wings rivaled any of the War dragons in his talon.
As it folded those immense wings, its short tail lashed, the wing membrane reaching nearly to the tip. It shook its body with a nervous snort as its rider dismounted. Instinctively, it peered around, making sure it wasn't about to be attacked by a War dragon. For eons the War dragons had hunted the Scouters, and even through all the selective breeding, they had yet to remove the instinctual hatred the two species had for each other.
The rider stepped into the tavern. All the soldiers had gone silent. The messenger removed his oxygen mask and thick helm. He looked battle hardened, carrying a sense about him that a veteran soldier would even though he was obviously very young. Those who recieved Scouters were trained very different from those who recieved a War dragon.
"Commander Roscrow?" The young man called out, his green eyes peering around at the soldiers.
"Here." Roscrow stepped forward.
The messenger stood at attention, saluting him. "Sergeant Jerred mac Brian, 6th Scouter brigad. Orders, sir, from the Masters." He pulled out a scrollcase from his belt, offering it out to the commander. Slowly, reluctantly, Roscrow reached out, taking the dreaded scrollcase from the messenger. He popped the seal and pulled out the parchment. Unrolling it with agony, he took a deep breath before reading it.
He abruptly rolled the scroll back up and shoved it back into the case. With pursed lips, he handed the case back to the messenger. "Thank you, sir. You are dismissed." Saluting him again, the young man turned, pulling on his helm and mask. Mounting his dragon, they left in a flurry of dust and small cyclones.
Roscrow stood in the middle of the room, all his men's eyes on him. He knew they held their breathes. They wanted to go home. They'd been fighting for 2 years. Some had not seen their families in 11 months. Turning, Roscrow looked upon his men. "We go to aide our sister nation, Nutherlund." He could feel the anger and disappointment in the air; it stifled him. "We leave in the morn. Ready your dragons and sleep well tonight."
Turning away, Roscrow returned upstairs as everyone stood to get ready to leave. He stopped at the door to his room, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Opening the door, he found her sitting on the bed, reading his battle diary. He had allowed her to read it, and she did when he was drawn away from her by his duties. She looked up at him as he came in. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. With a sigh, she turned back to the book, but now without interest.
Roscrow sat on the bed, his hand reaching out to cradle Sre's face. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. She had hoped, prayed even, that the war would be over before he had to leave. But she knew such wishes could not be fulfilled. In the absence of the Tamers, the nations had fallen into quarrel, the larger ones trying to absorb the smaller ones around them. Already they were down to only a dozen from the 23 at the high point of the Tamers' time.
"You have to go." Sre could feel a tear run down her cheek. Tenderly, Roscrow wiped it away with his thumb.
"I've survived the war this long, love, I'm certain I can survive the rest." He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. But when she looked away, he drew her against him. "There's nothing I can do about your situation right now, my dear. But when this war is over, I promise I'll come back for you. You have my word. I'll come back, take you to the Academy, and we'll find out about your crest. Imagine if you're from a lost family of Dragon Masters. You can always come back and turn that pig into your own slave!" He smiled at her, trying to cheer her up.
She smiled, clinging to him, breathing in his scent. "When do you have to leave?"
"Not until tomorrow morning." Again he thought to cheer her up. "I wonder what we can do between now and then?"
Squirming, Sre giggled. "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure you can think up something."
"It really doesn't take a lot of thought to get it up...." It took no more than a few heartbeats for the clothing to come off. Pushing her to the bed with his lips, he moved over her, his hands caressing all of her, every part of her body, memorizing it.
His lips moved from hers, his teeth nipping at her flesh, his kiss feathering all of her. Every sound she made urged him on, urged him lower, down to her feet where he kissed her arches with great tenderness, slowly continuing back up, following the line of her legs, further up still to the apex where her legs met. Her hands gripped the sheets, her back arching when she felt the heat of his tongue. The sensation was the most exquisite thing she'd ever felt, leaving her breathless.
Even when he was at last done, his mouth moving over the rest of her body, each touch like a sliver of Heaven, she could barely talk, panting and moaning just as he had intended. When he swept into her, time seemed to cease, no sorrowful goodbyes soon to come, no painful, hidden past, only each perfect moment that was gone as soon as the next came to take its place.
By the time the rusty moon spilt its bloody rays through the curtains, the two had exhausted themselves, tangled in each others arms. Rarely did Roscrow allow himself into such a deep state of oblivion, but somehow he felt it was right. Like all the Universe had aligned itself to this moment.
In the darkness of his oblivion, a serpent slithered around him, orange eyes burning themselves into his very soul. He was unable to move as the serpent twisted around him until it had ensnared him, left him breathless.
Guardian's vow.
He could hear the hiss, not in his mind, but in his soul. The serpent grew longer, more dragonlike, those orange eyes piercing him with more effect than any sword. In the darkness he saw a light behind the serpent, it grew as it came toward him, a person who shined, a person on a dragon holding high a speargun, the purest white light he had ever seen.
Vow to this. Your life to this.
The serpent twisted around him tighter, its head coming to block his view of the light, the hissing growing louder as it opened its mouth, lunging at him.
Guardian!
His eyes snapped open. He panted for a moment, not sure what he had just dreamed. He looked down at Sre, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. He smiled, kissing her forehead. He wished he could stay, but the sun demanded his attention.
Slipping from the bed, he got his clothes and armor on, packing his few belongings into his satchel. As he sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, he heard Sre stir behind him. She turned to him, looking up at him drowsily. When he turned to her, she did not meet his gaze. Slowly, he bent down, his hand cupping the back of her neck, drawing her to his lips. In his kiss, there was no need for words. In the tender lock of her lips, he sealed his vow, a promise that gave him reason to survive the war that he was headed back into.
Leaving the room, Roscrow slowly made his way down the stairs, every step leaving a feeling of dread in his heart, like he knew when he would return here again, she would not be here. As he followed his men out the door, he caught a glimpse of Jeboc trying to slip away up the stairs without the soldiers noticing. Only Kelvin turned to see Roscrow bound back into the tavern, saw his commander slam the barkeeper against the wall, his sword flashing in the morning light. He turned away, not caring to imagine the words his friend had for the pig.
Sre watched from the window as Roscrow called his men to attention. Behind him stood Granger, the black beast saddled and ready. Turning, placing on his great horned helm, the commander mounted his dragon with his soldiers. Granger opened his wings with muted creaks and rustles, fanning the air with mighty beats that threw the dust all around himself. In a show of their immense strength, Granger leapt at the sky, rising with great speed. One by one, all the dragons followed suit. They circled the town as they gained altitude until they were lost into the low layer of clouds that had started forming.
Sighing, Sre slipped out of the bed, deciding it was about time she faced her master. As she slipped her dress back on, the door swung open. As if she had summoned him with some dark and twisted magic, Jeboc came into the room with murder in his eyes.
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When night at last came, Sre stumbled to her old bed of hay in the barn. Collapsing, she curled up in agony. It was as if Jeboc had tried to pack a full week's worth of beatings into one day. She couldn't help the choking sobs that tore from her.
A rustle and a hiss made Sre look up, panic gripping her thinking that Jeboc wasn't done with her. Instead, a gorgeously deadly animal looked down at her with bright green eyes. It was a drakon, a mammalian dragon. The creature was the size of a very large draft horse, covered in a thick layer of bright blue fur. The rustle came from its thickly feathered wings. She figured it must have shown up at some point during the day, possibly with the kind old man that shown up not long after the talon had left.
Slowly, the vaguely canine like beast lowered its head, looking at her. "I never will understand homon need ta do bad t'ings ta each odder." The creature had an extremely thick accent.
Sniffling, Sre sat up with great effort. She found it difficult to breathe. The drakon sat dack on its haunches, reaching out a paw in invitation. Sre felt drawn to the female. Its fur was soft and warm, luxuriously plush. Her thick black mane smelled of the forest. Patting her on the back, the drakon let out a soft purr, soothing Sre. She could hear it speak, words she couldn't understand. An unnatural warmth spread through her body. She could feel all her wounds mend. Her pain melted away.
When the warmth ceased, it left her feeling calm. She looked up at the drakon. Its eyes were kind. Being a blue, it had no sense of malice, very much unlike the reds of its species. "My dear homon, I've a gift fer ya."
It stood, trotting over to a corner stall. Sre followed it, peering into the stall. She gasped. The thin rays of the white moon struck a dark platnuim eggshell. The egg was slightly shorter than Sre, oval and fat. "They left it? Is it dead?"
"I 'ould not drag it all t'is way if it be dead, homon. Very alive. Must take care of da boy. My partner will not take wif us." The drakon nodded to the egg she had leaned up against the corner. "I've enough young of my own. No need fer more."
"I... I can't take care of it! What if my master finds out?" Sre felt a spike of fear.
"Ya hide egg. Homons be clever. Ya da best of dem. T'is I know. Come, we sleep. In morn, I leave." The drakon turned to head back to the stall Sre slept in.
Staring at the egg, Sre couldn't help but think of getting rid of it, leaving the egg to the wilds. She couldn't very well keep such a thing hidden forever, certainly not until Roscrow got back! Though as she stared, she felt drawn to the egg, drawn with an inconceivable attraction. She found herself resting her hand on the shell, feeling the life growing inside, innocent to the world outside the thick barrier of its universe.
"Will not hatch faster ta stare."
With a start Sre snapped from her trance. Knowing there was nothing she could do about it tonight, she quickly covered the thing with hay. She would figure out how better to hide it later. Finished, she went to the drakon. It crossed its almost hands before it, raising a wing. Curling up beside the creature, it used its feathered wing as a blanket for her. Curling her long thick tail around Sre, the drakon laid her head on her paws, knowing the serpent in her dreams, bowing in respect to the orange eyes that invaded her slumber.
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"SRE!"
Waking with a start, Sre realized she was still under the warm wing of the drakon. Stirring, the creature opened its eyes and looked up at Jeboc. He stepped back in a fear he could not hide from the sensitive nose of the drakon.
"Uh, good morn, sir. I don't suppose ye've seen my slave?" He didn't directly meet the steady piercing gaze of the drakon.
Heaving herself into a standing position, long and thin spines rose out of the fur along her tail. She let out a hiss as she pounced before Jeboc, nearly causing him to fall. He slammed his back against the door of the opposite stall. "Touch, and dead ya will be 'fore da fortnight be gone," she growled, her voice eeirely inhuman. She grabbed Jeboc's chin with those paws that resembled hands almost perfectly. Her fingers were long enough to reach his cheeks, which she squeezed, piercing him with that steady stare. "Touch, and dere be no mercy, no fergive. Dragon not fergive. Never fergive...."
"Talosa! Leave the poor man alone! Where are your manners?" The voice of an older man made the drakon back away from Jeboc. Turning, not looking back, the drakon strode toward her partner. After letting the old man onto her back, she strode off down the street, heading out of town.
For the day, the drakon's words had seemed to shake Jeboc. He kept his temper. However, it didn't take long for him to revert back to his usual self. The only thing that gave Sre any comfort was the egg that she checked every night, watching it change from the dark platnuim to a chocolate brown. She didn't know if this was natural, Roscrow had never told her the eggs would change color, but every time she placed her hand against the shell she could inexplictably feel the life within grow more and more restless. Its universe was shrinking fast. It kicked and squirmed in the fluid that kept it suspended. She didn't know how she knew that the tiny dragon felt her presence, she figured it was just a fanciful thought.
As the weeks passed, the two moons peered down at the world below them, watching silently as Sre dragged herself to her bed. Slumping down, she did not bother with checking the egg. Jeboc had sold her services to a very drunk man earlier in the evening. She wanted nothing more than to scrub the feeling of violation from her flesh, but she knew it would do no good. Maybe she'd find some solace in her sleep.
Maybe something like a dragon of the purest white, eyes of a blazing blue. It bore itself with such majesty Sre could not help to weep, its grand ivory horns curving up and around a most regal crown. Looking down at Sre, it drew her to its body. Like a whisper loud enough to echo in her soul, she heard its pristine feminine voice. "My dearest, Sre. Do not fear the coming days. Your father had the foresight to take you away, but not the courage to face his destiny. He lost sight of his courage in his desperation to save you. Forgive him of this. His love for you was absolute. When my children come for you, they will know you and you will know them as you have always known."
The angelic dragon scraped her claws against the ground as she stood. Slowly, she walked away, the pristine light she emitted turning to darkness. Each of her steps sounded louder and louder the further away she walked. "Do not fear...."
Startled awake, it took a moment for Sre to realize the scraping sound was very much real. Sitting up, her heart pounded as she realized the sound came from the egg. The lessons Roscrow had taught her about dragons rang in her ears. She needed to get food for the hatchling.
Leaping to her feet, Sre ran for the cellar doors. She cursed when she found them locked. Thinking, Sre peered into the window, noticing that Jerassa was slumped over the bar, fast asleep. What better way to get back at the bitch than making it seem like she'd slept through a robbery? Silently slipping in, Sre snuck past Jeboc's room into the kitchen. A chunk of pig leg sat on the block, forgotten by the sisters. Sre was certain that Malissa was busy with some patron upstairs. She rarely went to bed alone.
Running back to the barn, Sre stopped before the stall, noticing that the egg had fallen over. It rolled back and forth, the tiny hatchling inside scraping and squealing. With a mighty thrust, the hatchling managed to crack the shell. Sre jumped back as a small flood of egg fluid dumped a squirming black mass at her feet. Wiggling, the hatchling struggled to gain its feet. Reaching down, Sre grabbed the slippery little thing and dragged it to a dry spot on the floor, helping it gain traction.
Sitting up unsteadily, the tiny hatchling peered up at Sre with massive copper eyes. As soon as their gazes locked, Sre could feel a connection deeper and more profound than any she'd ever known. In those innocent eyes, she saw something in herself.
Realizing that the hatchling was shivering, Sre took a horse blanket off a stall door, gently drying the hatchling off. She noticed the tiny black knobs that would one day grow into enormous horns. "So you are a boy. The drakon somehow knew. Well, little boy, I bet you're hungry." He squealed in response. Dropping the pig leg, she smiled as the dragon fell upon it, his teeth already strong enough to crack the bone. He consumed all of it, licking his lips, looking around as if it could find more.
"I'm sorry, little one. That's all I can give you. And I need to go to bed. I'm afraid if I sleep in too late, my master will come in here and find you." She turned and headed back to her bed. When she sat down, pulling her blankets around her, she was surprised to see the hatchling stumbling after her. It let out a loud "Ah-Ah!" before falling over on its unsteady legs. She giggled at the little boy. With great determination, he rose back to his paws and stumbled over her, collapsing onto her legs.
She was about to chide the dragon, but his eyes, much too big for his small head, made her stop. Sighing, she lay down without another word, feeling the hatchling curl up against her, his tiny body producing an unusual amount of heat. Her slumber that night was empty of anymore dreams.
