Chapter 1: Opportunity

The glass dragon lay in the old remains of his clutch, burnt eggshells scattered around the cavern he and his mate had chosen. His insides had been flaring since that fateful night. He yearned for the time to strike back at the king; killing him and all he loves, the look on his face would be glorious. A crooked smile flitted across his face. That old man would deserve no less than endless torture. And Fenrir would make sure he got that, and more. He had less resources than the king did that night, so he had to be sure he could strike where it mattered. The dragon twisted his reflective scales, letting himself blend into his ruined eggs. He could still smell the flames coming from his cave. As clear as if it happened yesterday. The king was a monster, and Fenrir would become more of one to kill him.

Fenrir’s eyes snapped open, hearing footsteps approaching from the entrance of the cavern. He camouflaged his scales, letting the molten scales in his breath-sac churn. He would not be taken by surprise again, “Sir Fenrir!” A familiar voice echoed throughout the cavern before a pathetic looking specimen of a human stepped into the dragon’s view. The servant, Malachi, a poor hybrid of a human and a centaur, always walked with a limp, as if their bone structure could not decide which creature to be. A pathetic showing of both human and centaur genes, developing a problem in their crossbred children that half-dragons never had. “The king's eldest child, Khora, has escaped the castle!” The piteous creature panted as it stood before Fenrir.

“Good,” The reflective scales relaxed, showing Fenrir’s full glory to Malachi, “Starting with the spawn will be good~” The dragon’s smile returned and he stared at Malachi, who was staring up at Fenrir expectantly. “Oh,” His tail flicked as he bit his lip, drawing some of his oil-like blood and dripping it to the floor in front of the servant.

“Thank you, thank you oh great one!” Malachi bowed before kneeling like the animal it was, ingesting as much of Fenrir’s blood as it could. Fenrir scoffed, turning his gaze away from the sorry display. Glass dragon blood was an… aphrodisiac of sorts for the lesser species. It supposedly showed them images beyond that of which they could imagine otherwise. It was easy enough to get Malachi addicted, it was practically begging for a substance it could abuse. Fenrir just took the opportunity, after all… who wouldn’t? He stepped to his altar, pushing the creature ingesting his blood away with his tail as he did. He grabbed a tooth lying on the stone, still covered in dried blood,

“Marath… my beloved sister,” He whispered to himself in draconic while grasping her tooth, “Today marks the beginning of our revenge. For father, for dad, for poor little Wynfir, and for our clutch. I will not let you down,” He licked the tooth slightly, reminding himself of his family’s scent. He heard a groaning from behind him, Malachi letting the high of his blood reach them no doubt. He set the tooth down, releasing a prayer to no particular god. He wrapped his tail around Malachi’s ankle, dragging him to the entrance of the cavern. “Stay here until you come to your senses,” Fenrir looked down at the half-breed in disgust, “You look pathetic.” The blood addled creature did not respond, but Fenrir knew it would listen. He turned his attention towards the entrance of the cave and stepped out, letting the bright light of the sun reflect off of his scales. A confusing maze of sunlight spread around him before his wings scraped against the walls of the entrance to the cavern. With one big flap, he took flight.

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The princess pulled down her hood, flicking her long, blonde hair out of her shirt. It was always such a pain to get out of the castle. Her father treated it as if she would burn up if she stepped out of her tower. She took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of dew in the early morning. She giggled, stretching her arms. Her tower was big, but suffocating. She stuck her middle finger up in the general direction of the castle. “Fuck you, father!”

“Careful, princess~” Her knight startled her as she jumped down from a tree above the princess, “He just might hear you,” The knight winked and leaned on her halberd. Vogaix was a dark skinned half-dragon, with scales that reflected one's image back at the viewer. Her hands and feet were clawed, and horns that each split into two adorned her head. She wore leather armor, concealing as much of her scaled body as she could and her claws rapped the handle of her massive halberd. ‘Knight’ implies her father accepted the half-dragon’s presence, which of course, he didn’t. Vogaix stood tall above the Khora, dwarfing her with just her human proportions. Of course, the massive wings, bifurcated horns, thick tail, and reflective scales didn’t help Khora feel any bigger around her. The princess shrugged, jumping into the half-dragon’s arms.

“I hope he does,” She took a deep breath as Vogaix dropped her halberd, letting the knight stroke through her hair, “Not approving of us was his first mistake,” She craned her neck to the half dragon’s lips, who lifted her up to make the kiss easier. They stood there for a while, basking in each other's presence. Seeing Vogaix was rarer than getting out of the tower. Her father truly did everything he could to keep her away from her loyal knight.

“Oh!” The knight put down her liege, sliding her clawed hand down Khora’s arm to hold the princess’s. “I have a surprise for you,” Khora looked into the half-dragon’s eyes, her head tilting at an angle, reminiscent of a fox attempting to understand what it can not. Vogaix giggled, pulling Khora deeper into the forest, picking up her halberd with her tail.

“What is it?!” Khora stumbled along with her knight’s steps, being nearly pulled through the air. The knight rolled her eyes,

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“That wouldn’t be much of a surprise now would it?” The knight flapped her wings, giving her slight lift, pulling both her and the princess forwards. The princess smiled as her feet lifted themselves off the ground, letting her feel the joy of flight for just a second. With her eyes closed, she lets the wind flow through her long, flowing hair. Before she knew it, her body was gently lowered to the ground and she felt the grass rub against her ankle. She took a breath, eyes opening slowly. As the ringing of the wind in her ears faded, the sounds of birds tweeting echoed off of the trees. Accompanied by the sound of a babbling brook flowing beside her and her knight, it made an almost magical song.

“V…” Khora patted her hair down, looking around her new environment, “It’s beautiful,” Vogaix bowed down on one scaled knee, her claws dug themselves into the dirt. “Was this brook the whole surprise?” The princess let out a mischievous smirk, egging the half-dragon on.

“I figured you would want more,” Vogaix smiled, relaxing her wings, “And I know my princess well~” She twisted on her clawed feet 90 degrees, towards the source of the stream. She turned her head flirtatiously, “I thought you would enjoy going on a nice, riverside walk with your favorite half dragon~” She smiled, showing her sharp teeth with a flap of her wings.

“Aww~” Khora giggled and put her hands behind her back. She stepped along with her loyal knight, staring at her long, slightly curled, brown hair. “Of course I would love to walk with such a radiant knight~” Vogaix smiled at the compliment, tilting her head so the sun reflected off of her scales. The princess smiled back, walking along the stream, towards the source, the waterfall, with her knight.

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Boran awoke to a knock on his door, he took a moment to orient himself, grabbing onto his glass-hilted sword. “What?” A gruff, almost angry sounding voice escaped his lips. “You interrupted my rest.”

“I apologize sir Boran,” A pathetically quiet voice came through the door, Lopsir, the most high ranking servant in the castle. “But there is news…” The voice hesitated, as if scared to tell the knight the news, even with the protection of the door.

“Spit it out, Lopsir!!!” The head knight rose from his bed, grabbing his armor in order to don it. “I don’t have all day!” He admired his armor, and the many scales of baby dragons adorning it like medals.

“T-the princess, sir…” Lopsir paused again, stuttering over his next words, “S-s-she escaped again.” There was a pause again, this time from inside the room. Lopsir backed away from the door, knowing what was coming. The door slammed open, parts of the hinges cracking as the towering man stood before Lopsir.

“How,” Boran stepped closer, projecting his shadow over Lopsir. “Could you,” His hand reached for his sword, and he drew it. The blade itself was more than half the size of the servant, and Boran gripped its scaled handle with one hand, “Let her escape.” He stared down at Lopsir. His blade pulled the small man’s chin up, forcing the servant to stare at Boran’s eyes as they glowed in the shadow.

“I-i-it m-m–” Lopsir shook his head, backing up to the wall to try and find some stability, “It must have been Malachi…” He managed to squeak out his accusation, his voice almost being eaten up by Boran’s breathing. “He was tasked with watching her over,” Lopsir began to gain some confidence from blaming the half-centaur, “And he is missing as well. Perhaps he let her escape for some sort of favor.”

“Hmph.” Boran sheathed his blade and cracked his knuckles. “I told the king to not even hire half-breeds as servants, but even our Royal Highness has some softness in him yet.” He looked down at Lopsir, his pale skin reflecting the little bit of light from his room’s window. “Go, I will take care of this myself.” Lopsir bowed in front of Boran, scrambling away as he did. Boran adjusted his breastplate, shutting the door with his foot as a grunt escaped from his mouth. “Cowardly fool,” He stomped his way down the hallway, any servants bowing or kneeling as he passed. He liked it this way, no pressure of being king, but all the loyalty. Boran stopped at the towering door to King Kellen’s chambers. He cleared his throat slightly before opening the doors.

He stepped into the elderly king’s chambers. The king sat on his throne, his blonde hair’s almost blinding color being amplified by the sun through the many stained glass windows. Although he was over one hundred years old, he looked not a day over fifty. Boran unsheathed his blade and bowed to the king, mirroring the many guests and servants that bowed to Boran as he entered the room. “My liege,” He lifted his head, “Your daughter has… left, again,” Boran looked around at the room’s many occupants, most were servants or knights and knew of Khora’s many attempted escapes, though a few were guests that Boran did not quite recognize. The king stared at his head knight, sipping a thick, green liquid from his wine glass.

“And why is now any different than the other times, Boran?” His voice almost slithered into the knight’s ears, sounding young, but wisened.

“I have reason to believe that Malachi has helped her, this time,” The knight got off of one knee, and despite his towering size, the king was still taller than him while in his throne. “I wanted permission to…” The towering man licked his lips, “Punish him, if I were to find him as well.”

“You know very well you are not to…” The king paused, his green eyes flicked to the guests, “Punish our own servants. If you find out his intentions were nefarious, then yes, you may. But your top priority is finding my daughter.” The king took another sip from his wine glass, “And make sure she is not with that… friend of hers.”

“Your will be done, my liege,” The knight bowed, calmly walking out of the room, licking some drool from his lips. As the door closed, he let himself whisper, “And half-breed’s deeds are always nefarious, sir.” Boran knew the princesses' soft spot for half-breeds and knew the place she would likely go. So he would gladly go there.