Chapter 5: Allies?

The massive glass dragon's scales shifted to the color of the hills, his brain on alert around all these new people. Especially around the human. "Who are you…" His eyes flicked to every half-breed, of the seven half-dragons, only Vogaix was a glass-human. Each and every member of Vogaix's "family" stared the dragon down. "Who are all of you?"

"Lots of questions for such an ancient fella," The old human coughed out a raspy laugh, "I'd guess you're…" It stared at Fenrir, eyes masterfully judging every inch of muscle on the massive lizard. "About four hundred and seventy five years old?" Fenrir twitched, five years off. It was good. "Give or take ten years," It smiled at Fenrir, confident in its ability to guess his age.

"Close enough," The dragon lay himself down, his brain beginning to calm down, "Such a frail figure," Fenrir looked at the half-breeds surrounding her, most of them more frightened than she was. The least frightened half-dragon was a white-scaled half-centaur, who had trotted over to Vogaix and struck up a conversation shadowed in whispers. "Why are you not frightened of me? When all these half-humans, much stronger than yourself, lie in fear?" The ancient human smiled, sitting itself down in the clearing in front of Fenrir, a grunt coming from its mouth.

"Call me Morgan," It gestured to the half-breeds surrounding Fenrir, "I can introduce you to them later, but I am," It paused, "Or rather, was, the kingdom's head dragon researcher." Fenrir bared his teeth at the human, it was the reason they knew how to ambush the master ambushers so well. It had to be. It let out another cough laden chortle, "I had nothing to do with how they ravaged your family. In fact I left… almost one hundred years ago now, I believe. As soon as I learned how the king planned to use my research, I took as much of my supplies as I could and ran."

"How exactly old are you?" Fenrir stared at the human curiously. As far as the dragon knew, the only human to live beyond one hundred in modern times was the king.

"Don't look a day over ninety, right?" The human smiled, its mouth missing half its teeth, "But sadly, I am one hundred and seventy seven. Older than that so called 'immortal king'," It gestured to one of the half-humans, a half-emerald-dragon. He waved, sitting against one of the hills, using his shell as a cushion. "Emerald-dragon blood does wonders for your skin," It smiled and laughed, "Though a half-emerald-dragon's blood is not nearly as potent as a full blooded ones is. I still appreciate Gigax for donating his blood to me." Morgan laughed again, this ancient woman was clearly out of her mind. "Turtle dragon is more accurate, given their lineage. And their shell. Their scales are quite a beautiful green, though." It looked at Fenrir again, eyes softening, "I apologize, my mind tends to wander these days…"

The dragon bowed his head to the ancient woman, reassuring it that it was okay in draconic, his grandfather began to get like that near the end as well. It smiled and responded in draconic, "Thank you." Fenrir stared at her, surprised to meet a human that could speak his language.

"You speak my language?" Draconic gutturally escaped from his throat, sounding like growling to the half-breeds surrounding them. Morgan smiled and nodded.

"Continue to speak in it, though the rest of the family may not understand." She coughed up some blood, "It really kills my throat, so I can not respond in kind too often."

"I understand, I have never met a human that could speak it as well as you. And it has been forever since I have been around anyone that understood it." Fenrir excitedly twisted his tail around a tree. Someone that understood him, it had been… far too long since he had experienced that. "Now, I have a proposition for you. For all of you."

"Come on," Vogaix spoke up, "Morgan has taught us some draconic, and I recognize a few words, but if you have something to tell all of us, tell us in a language we can understand."

"Fine," Fenrir sighed, smoke escaping from his breath-sac, "I want to kill the king," Gasps came from the crowd, the only ones who didn't gasp were Vogaix and Morgan. "I was hoping for more of you, but this will have to be enough."

"So what's the plan, big guy?" The white-scaled half-centaur made her voice heard. "The name is Slepna, by the way. A joy to meet you, Fen!" She smiled, sharp teeth shining in the torchlight, half-centaurs were the closest to full dragons that there were, with just a human stomach showing.

"Do not call me Fen," He growled at the crowd, "Not a single one of you is to call me Fen. Address me as Fenrir only." The dragon's throat began to glow, fire from the hawk's feathers that he ate earlier bursting into flame and ready to escape through his mouth. Every half-breed cowered back, but Morgan just looked on in fascination. He released a plume of flames into the sky, lighting up his scales and reflecting the image in each viewer's eyes.

"O-Okay-" Slepna stuttered, taken aback by the glass-dragon's show of force, "I'm sorry, Fenrir." The dragon relaxed again, his head constantly on alert.

"The plan, simply, is to take control of them from the inside out. I already hold one of their servants wrapped around the tip of my claw. And I can spread that influence." Fenrir looked around, nearly everyone's face looked confused, except for Morgan who looked worried.

"You're drugging the servants?" Morgan stared at the dragon.

"I am. Feeding them with my blood until they can't help but come back for more." The dragon growled it out to the crowd. The reaction in the crowed was mixed, and a murmur began to break out.

"Mister Fenrir?" From his left, a new voice ringed out of the crowd. It belonged to a mutilated half-lamia, its tail was burnt off some time ago it appeared. The massive dragon nodded, "I-isn't getting people addicted to something like that… evil?" It stuttered, not used to the attention of such a massive creature. Fenrir internally rolled his eyes, humans and their morals, what a waste.

"Do you have any other ideas?" The dragon growled at the half-lamia, turning his head to meet the other half-breeds. None of them spoke up. "I thought so," His voice echoed through the clearing, and he let his scales relax to normal and reflect the moon's light. Some gasps came from the crowd, Fenrir smirked. "Once I have enough of the servants, we launch an attack from the inside, as well as the outside." Nobody responded, a few of them looked nervous, as if they couldn't fight. "Vogaix will teach you all how to fight. We have to do this." Again, the only response was silent whispers throughout the crowd. The dragon huffed some smoke, getting up and beginning to leave.

"Wait, Fenrir," His departure was interrupted by Vogaix grabbing his tail, "Can I ask you some questions?" She looked around the crowd, "In private?"

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"Sister~" Khora awoke to Alaric sitting in a chair beside her bed, swirling a glass of wine in his hand. The princess grabbed her sheets and pushed herself against the head of the bed.

"What are you doing in my room?" She stared at the interloper, scanning around the room. Nothing seemed to be damaged, but the door was hanging open. The princess glared at Alaric, "And don't call me sister."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Oh, a touchy one hmm?" Her half-brother took a sip from his wine glass, his purple eyes scanned over the princess. "You know," The bastard prince stood from the chair, causing the princess to jump in surprise. "Have you ever been told you are quite the beauty? You remind me of our mother, in that way…" He stepped closer to her bed causing her to back away, stopping at the edge of the bed. "Do you remember her? Or were you too young when it happened?" He stopped his approach at the side of her bed.

"What are you doing. In. My. Room." The cornered princess reached towards a mirror on her bedside table, her heart beating against her ribcage.

"Might want to calm down, a heart beating that fast for that long isn't good for you, sis," Alaric took another sip from his wine as Khora stared at him with a look of murder in her eyes. The strangely calm boy sat on the edge of her bed, setting his glass on the bedside table. "I simply wanted to know more about you," He scratched the back of one of his gloved hands, "You are my half-sister after all."

The princess gripped onto the mirror's handle, the cold metal pushing into her newly-covered wound. She slipped out of the bed, her bare feet wanting to jump off of the cold stone floor. "Why should I tell you about me," She slipped on some night-shoes and looked at the window. It was still the night, the only light coming in were beams of moonlight. That meant Mary was probably asleep. "For all I know you aren't even my half-brother. You're probably just an imposter."

"I figured you would say that," The bastard-prince reached into his shirt, pulling out a necklace. A ring was hanging on the edge of the chain that composed the necklace, a beautiful silver with two dragons surrounding a ruby inlaid into the metal. Khora's eyes flicked over to her jewelry cabinet, the same ring still sat on top of it, the ruby reflected the light of the moon into her eyes, "So I brought this. That's the only reason your father believed me, too."

"Where did you get that?" Her grip on the mirror slightly loosened, "Only my mother had those, and she only gave them to people she cared about…" The princess dropped the mirror, the reflective glass shaking as it hit the ground. "I…" She stepped around the bed, closer to her half-sibling. "Why didn't she ever tell me about you? Why didn't Vogaix?" Alaric stepped backwards, towards the door.

"She was worried about anyone finding out about me, about my father. And your father never even learned the full truth, he likely would have done more than strike her if he knew," He reached the door, pushing it shut and shoving a stool in between the handle and the floor.

"What full truth?" Khora was still standing at the ready, but her heartbeat had calmed, "Who are you?"

"In time, sister," Alaric moved back towards the bed to sit beside his half-sister, and picked up the wine glass, taking another sip. "For now, we have a common interest," His purple eyes seemed to pierce her own, and when she flicked her gaze away, his eyes expertly followed. "Our end goal may be different, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend, is she not?"

"What are you talking about, Alaric." She stood above him, getting irritated by his dumb smirk, "What common enemy do we have? Dragons?"

"Oh please," The smug boy laughed as he gulped down the rest of the wine, "You know as well as I do the dragons are not our common enemy. Please don't toy me with such blatant lies. I mean your father, of course. The king." The princess stared at him in shock, opening her mouth to argue. "'Oh but brother, how did you know?' Must be what you were about to say. Well… that is what you are thinking at least, you were probably going to say something along the lines of 'How dare you accuse me of wanting me to kill my own father!' Does that sound about right?" That crooked smile slithered onto his face once again. Khora nodded as she closed her mouth, she didn't know why, but hiding anything from this guy was nearly impossible. "Perfect. And, deducing that you wanted to was as simple as knowing your dearest father's nickname. 'The immortal king', really? Nobody is immortal, but he looks exactly as he did over a hundred years ago. So he has clearly gotten quite close to it. And you very clearly want to become queen, and I king, so what say you? We put our differences aside and work together? For our Vogaix?" He reached out a hand towards the princess, offering a shake in agreement.

Khora hesitated, before shaking the bastard prince's hand, "Not our Vogaix, Alaric. Mine." She squeezed his hand, feeling the roughness underneath the glove. She began to grab at the folds of the glove, ready to take it off when the handshake ended.

"Touché, princess. And no taking off the gloves," He smirked at the princess as his remark caused her to lose her grip. "It was truly a pleasure doing business with you. I hear you're supposed to show me around the kingdom tomorrow morning, see you then~" He slipped himself out the door, shutting it silently as he went back to his own.

Khora looked towards her jewelry box, staring at her mother's ring. "Mother… what other secrets were you hiding, it can't just be a bastard child, can it?" The princess curled up in the bed, her mind racing far too much to get any sleep. "I wish you were here, mom… I miss you."

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The knight dragged the thief by her wrist, the short girl was uselessly fighting against his grip. "Come on, sir, lemme go! I just wanted food for my family, can't you understand that?" She pleaded with him as they reached the exterior doors to the castle's dungeon. He wordlessly dragged her down the stairs, opening the door to the singular guard at the entrance. The guard nodded, opening the door for Boran and the thief. "Please…" The thief's fighting slowed down, her strength nearly drained at this point.

"Listen," Boran pushed the thief into one of the cages, keeping his hand on the door, "Kid, you got a name?" His hands fiddled for the keys on his waist.

"Jasmine, Jasmine Cobbe." The girl mumbled to herself, sliding down to the floor of the cage as Boran locked it.

"Well, Jasmine," The knight looked at the girl with a strangely forgiving look, "You'll serve your time, and then you'll be able to get back to your family." She didn't look at the knight, her head buried into her knees. "I promise, Jasmine. A kid like you isn't going to be in here for long." He began to walk towards the exit, before he stopped, turning back towards the newly imprisoned girl. "How do you get to your family's place?"

"Why? Gonna arrest them, too? For the crime of being poor?" Jasmine snapped back at Boran.

"No, I was going to give them some food. And that's it. I know I look mean, but I want what's best for the kingdom."

"Third left after the west gate…" The thief mumbled into her knees, "My pa's always sitting out in the front, he looks like me." The girl mumbled something under her breath afterwards but it was impossible to hear her over what sounded like growling that came from a nearby door. "What was that?"

"I'm sure it was nothing, Jasmine, just a guard dog." Boran stepped towards the sound, his hand going to the blade sitting on his waist. He felt his armor clank against itself as he stepped closer. Sounds of metal rubbing against stone came from behind the door.

"Please don't die, mister…" Jasmines voice came like a whisper from the other end of the dungeon. The knight turned towards her, putting a finger against his lips. Something was behind that door, he just didn't know what it was, or how it got there. He reached his other hand out to the handle, gripping it tightly, and ready to throw the door open.

"Sir Boran," The king's voice made him turn around, hand still on the door's handle, "What exactly are you doing?" The king was leaning on his cane, a look of suspicion on his face.

"I heard something from behind the door, sire. I was investigating what it was."

"And what did you hear?" The king raised his eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his face.

"A growling, sire. As well as the dragging of metal against stone."

"It was likely just the guard dogs we keep back there, Boran. Are you okay? You've seemed… shaken ever since your encounter with my daughter."

"I'm fine, my king." The knight knelt towards the king before beginning to walk away into the night.

"You know you can trust me, Boran. You're like a son to me." The king spoke to the wall, both him and the knight faced away from each other.

"I know, Sire. I thank you for that." He stepped out of the dungeon, ignoring the guard as he walked up the steps and into the night.

Boran walked with Yağmur, both of them carrying some breads and meats. They eventually made it to the Cobbe house, and despite the late hour, Jasmine's father was sitting in the front in a rocking chair. The two knights waved, and Yağmur did a bow to the man. "Me and my father are here to drop off some food, we heard you may need it." The man looked at both of them, staring at the food that they had brought.

"Thank you," A weak voice escaped from the man, "Come in, come eat with us." Yağmur and his father exchanged a look, neither of them were dressed in their knightly attire.

"We would love to, sir." Boran smiled at Jasmine's father as he struggled out of the chair, opening the door for the two strangers.

"Please, call me Jacob." Inside the house was a large family, all eating at a table with just a few scraps of bread. "And thank you very much for the meal, sir…" Jacob awaited their names expectantly.

"Baron," The knight put his hand on his son's shoulder, "And this is my son, Yağmur, it's truly a pleasure to meet you."