Rage, Duty and Sorrow

Drakon and Lakai had called their travels for the day. The continued game of Pickering between each other lasted until dinner. Food was eaten and Drakon was feeling civil. The conversation on duty was the post-dinner topic. The conversation ended shortly after it began. Drakon's eyes fell under the warm fire before he could even manage to make a comment or even suggest his own answer on duty. As he slept, his consciousness fell into slumber. 

As Drakon slept, he could feel awake. But he couldn't see anything. Everything around him was dark. He couldn't move as if he was surrounded by a wall of force. He was warm, very warm. The air around him began to increase the intensity of heat. Drakon was uncomfortable with the heat. Then he heard screams. Yelling. Words of anger and hate. Greed. A roar could be heard within the distance as if it was defending its own life. Cries and emotion flooded Drakon. Everything about this scenario, he felt. Everything he trained for reflexed. He wanted to move, adapt, and survive. Another scream. This time the emotion changed to more of a cry for help. Again shouts, more heat. And with one motion he felt a sword piece his stomach and the loudest piercing scream released from the distance. 

In seconds Drakon awoke from the vision in a sweat. He could still feel the pain and the stab. Immediately, he looked down and saw his stomach was fine. No blood. He looked toward his left to see Adra sleeping. Drakon wiped his forehead and slowly stood up from his bed roll and took a deep breath. A ping shot through his head like a knife drilling into his side. Wincing silently, he moved away from the fire and placed his hand on a nearby tree to catch himself. His eyes darted flooded with black. Another vision. Bandits, hunters screaming, A roar from the distance. Snap. Back into reality. Drakon began to breathe harder as time passed. Something was calling. Something needed help. Quickly he grabbed his double-bladed spear and boots and began to run. Not taking a second to think to put on his armor. As he sprinted toward the direction he felt connected to, he could feel the push of the wind hit his bare skin. He should have taken the time to put at least his armor on but it was too late.
Dashing through woods. Darkness swallowing the night sky. All he had was a general push. Left, a right turn. Down a narrow path. Through rocky terrain. Soon he was near a single path that lead into a cave. Heavy breathing, Drakon could hear the sounds of men and women talking. Muffled sounds, he couldn't quite understand. But he knew he was where he was supposed to be. He had no idea what was in front of him but he didn't care. He drew his bladed spear and quietly began to lurk within the cave. As he stepped into the cavern, he could hear the flickers of flames and the single damp water drops from deep within. 

His steps were not as quiet or as stealthy as he would have wanted. He was someone who fought straight on. But he could hear the roaring beast within the cave. He could hear the pain in the cry. This beast was in full pain doing its best to survive. It had to be poachers. Hunters. A sudden rage boiled within himself for such disgusting things. Killing animals for their parts. It was something he thought was one of the worst things someone could even imagine doing. He believe some animals had to be put down due to being aggressive but there was always a way to respond. When an animal was aggressive, there was always a reason. Afraid, protecting itself, hungry, and a parent. 

As he stepped forward, he couldn't believe what he saw in front of him. Near the end of the cave was an open area filled with a group of 6 or 7 hunters. Yelling and taunting a dragon. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. As he looked more clearly, the narrow tunnel had turned into a huge opening wide enough for even a dragon to call home. The hunters had it surrounded. Pathetic he thought. Hunt it while it slept. The growing rage grew hotter. His own grip on his sword tore into his skin. Looking at the mighty beast towering over the hunters, it still held over its tough and powerful exterior.  Its skin glistens with red and green palettes. Its head had three horns, left, center, and right. The horns drifted backward facing away from them upwards. The scales from this distance flared with color and toughness.  The hunters had huge spears, thicker than most. The ended blades looked like they could pin even the dragon down. The dragon spewed flames and claw at the hunters. Its stance was not as aggressive as one would think but it formed a stance of protection. It was protecting something near it. Looking below the dragon's chest, he noticed a cluster of eggs around a heated flame. Parent. 
The roar he heard was a cry for help. A furious rage to protect its eggs. Among the hunters, there were mages behind the melee hunters preparing what looked like some sort of area effect spell that would come from the top of the dragon. He needed to take them out. Sparks of circles began to spark above in a circular motion. Their backs were turned. He had the advantage. Through speed and pushing his own stamina, he drove forward. Dashing forward, he twirled his spear in one sweeping motion. The first mage went down. Headless. Blood poured out from the headless corpse. The mage's spell evaporated before it could go off. Distracted the mage to the right of this hunter gasp as she turned to face the raging Drakon. His spear made no attempt to pause as it landed straight into the chest of the mage. This mage grunted in pain as she threw up blood. Quickly he took his spear out of the chest of the fallen mage and did a slow pierce through the head. Watching the fear go out as the bladed spear enters the cavity of the mouth. Mages were taken care of. Or so he thought. 

He could hear confusion coming from the hunters near the dragon. They now knew Drakon was there. A few of them darted away from the dragon. One slinging forth a ball of flames. Crackling flames spouted off of it. Drakon dodged out of the way quickly nearly being charred to death. With swiftness, he rolled to the side only to use his momentum to spring forward. His blade sparked with lightning as a symbol activated. As he got close and swung his spear downward at the hunter he faced. With a swift motion, he used it to force another hunter to fall to the ground. Twirling 180 degrees he took his spear and lunged it at the mage who was preparing another onslaught of fireballs. The lightning-sparked like an arrow, pushing his spear faster into the mage's chest. The spear pulsed with lightning and created an impact, sending the mage a few feet backward. The struggling hunter that fell charged at Drakon. The body collided with him and he was tackled to the ground. Drakon grunted as his head hit the floor. Dazed for less than a second as he turned to the face of a scowling angry elf. Drakon poured his rage into his body. Slamming a foot into the elf's face with enough force to knock him out. Stumbling on his own knees, Drakon managed to tumble onto the elf. Drakon grabbed the elf's neck and wrapped his hands to create a firm grasp hold. Clutching his hands tighter and tighter around the helpless elf, he stared into the eyes with malice. The elf flopped and attempted to get out of the hold but couldn't find purchase. Soon as the air left their body, Drakon snapped the neck. 

Drakon's breathing was beginning to grow heavier and heavier but with the adrenaline pumping, his stamina was still in top shape. Bouncing up from the ground, he ran toward his weapon and charged into the fray. The dragon was beginning to grow wreckless with its strikes. Flames corroded the area of the cave. Claws lashed out violently but all while defending its eggs. Drakon could feel the heat increasing around the cave. But he didn't care. He felt nothing. All he wanted was to end the lives of these hunters. A look of dread and rage filled his face. As he approached, two humans one female and one male swung their giant spears at him but they were slow. Drakon parried and countered. Slaying them instantly. There were still a few hunters avoiding the dragon. Some behind and in front. As he finished the few that tried to attack him. There was a ripple of force in the air. This time it was the loudest sound he had heard. The dragon roared in pain as it was stabbed in the chest and in one of its wings. Blood gushing out from their wounds. Drakon screamed. [color=#17b529]"NOOOOO!" [/color]

With everything in him, he charged wildly. Like a beast ready to take out as many as they could. The lightning around his spear intensified as he screamed. As if his emotions caused a trigger. Lightning flashed chaotically throughout his spear. Jumping in all directions. Drakon felt the burn of such sparks but kept going. He leaped into the air with his spear. Swinging sidely at the men. Blood spraying with each strike. Screams were held by the men falling from his blade. All Drakon could see was red. Burning desire to rip everything around apart. As the last man approached him, Drakon lashed with his blade sending the man spiraling into pieces. Blood stains the ground of the cavern. 

Then there was silence. Everyone in this room was killed. He knelt down breathing harder and harder, barely trying to catch himself. He saw the dragon collapse to the ground wheezing, as its lifeforce drained from its wounds. The piercing blade had made a fatal impact. The look of sorrow and dread within its eyes as they slowly faded. He could see the tears drip from the eyelid of the dragon. [color=#17b529]"I'm sorry....I'm sorry I wasn't here fast enough..." [/color]Drakon's words were wild. He tried and all he did was fail. Then he noticed a hunter stumbling toward the eggs below the dragon's chest. Drakon eyes quickly jolted onto the man. Drakon looked as if he was a zombie. Filled with a burning desire to kill. He stepped forward and kicked the man forward. Then sent punches toward the man's skull. He continued, to throw punches. Collapsing to the ground itself. Punch after punch. Tears and screams formed by Drakon. Each punch digging deeper into the man's skull. Blood wrapped around his fists and chest. Blood stains the ground like a flood. He couldn't stop. He just kept punching. Until his strength was no more or if someone stopped him. His only thought was to protect what was left...the eggs. 

Adra woke to the sound of Drakon's receding footsteps.  Again?  He was getting too old for this shit.

He followed, leveraging his ability to move faster so that he could travel quieter and go noticed.  Something wasn't right here - Drakon wasn't fleeing...he was chasing.  Something was beckoning the man, driving him to action.  All of Adra's senses snapped into sharp focus. Whatever was about to happen, it was bad.  

Adrastus had grown up having to prove his worth to everyone, including himself.  He understood what it meant to be pulled into conflict by circumstance and fate.  He also knew that some battles needed to be fought alone.  So, unless there was no other choice, Adra would let Drakon handle it.   After all, this wasn't Adra's fight - it was Drakon's. 

That being said, sitting by as Drakon allowed himself to be pushed over the edge into a blind rage was a serious test of Adra's formidable self-discipline.  The addition of a dragon into the mix didn't help.  A motherfucking dragon.  Was this really happening?

The world around Adrastus seemed to slow down to a crawl and he idly noticed he had pulled out his sword and was ready to launch himself into action if the situation needed it.  Trusting that Drakon could handle things was one thing, but experience demanded he be ready to intervene if that trust turned out to be misplaced.  It was, then, through the lens of distorted time that Adra got to watch the horror and carnage Drakon was capable of when he had completely shrugged off the tether of self-control.  It was sloppy, emotional, and one of the most brutal demonstrations of power he'd seen in a very long time.  If the Gör ever got his head in the game, he'd be indomitable.  Albert was a fool for not seeing Drakon's potential.

Adra pulled his mind away from thoughts of Albert Van Markham as Drakon launched himself into action and began pounding the body of the final hunter into a chunky pulp without the desire or ability to stop.  The fight was over, and Drakon was now drowning in his own fury.  

Then Adra was there, behind Drakon, his arms wrapping around the other man's chest in an effort to pull him off the decimated husk that had once been a person.  [color=#7CD98A]"Drakon, Drakon he's dead.  It's over." [/color]Adra knew intervening was dangerous, but Drakon needed a lifeline.  Drakon needed him.

As Drakon felt the hands on his shoulder, the instinct was still alive and burning. His bloody fist turned quickly with murderous rage. Drakon stood mid-punch, a few inches away from his protector's face. Then that was when it happened. The collapse of Drakon's body falls into Adra. Tears flooded his eyes. Dried blood on his face. The smear of blood streaked down his cheeks. [color=#008e02]"I couldn't save her....I couldn't save her...I was too slow..." [/color]The utter sense of failing pulled Drakon down as if a heavy anchor was diving into the open waters. Drakon sat there in Adra's arms for what felt like centuries. Drakon wiped what tears were left and slowly got up from the ground and walked like the dead over toward the lifeless carcass of a dragon. He wabbled and came down to his knees and placed his hands on the mother dragon protecting her children. [color=#008e02]"I'm sorry...." [/color]he spoke softly. 

Drakon eye's slid over to the batch of eggs that were still under a flame. The lingering and overwhelming thought was what to do with the eggs of this dragon. It called out to him. He knew nothing about how to handle situations. He once heard his father talk about a lost tradition of riding a dragon, companionship. But it was so old that the books and teachings were somehow lost in time. Drakon's eyes clicked. An opportunity to prove he was capable. A worthy son. He will be the one who finds these lost traditions. He will prove his father wrong. Drakon slowly approached the eggs and rubbed his hands along the hard shells of the eggs. Hard aspects. Rigid and smooth in some places. Different colors of eggs. Browns, blacks. [color=#008e02]"You will live....I promise.." [/color]

Adra didn't flinch as Drakon went to swing on him - he had expected as much. Honestly, the only surprising thing was that Drakon had the wherewithal to halt the attack before it connected.  The momentum of the abandoned movement, though, proved too much to overcome for Drakon's exhausted body as he seemed to crumble into Adra's arms.  Adra fell backward holding Drakon, using his own strength to control the collapse.  

For a long time, the pair remained there on the ground with Adra's arms wrapped around Drakon in a protective embrace.  He wished he was better at this part, that he had the ability to give solace to his friend when he needed it.  But Adra had no idea what to do; he'd never had anyone who would have even considered giving him comfort.  So, instead, he was left trying desperately to remember the long-abandoned desires of his childhood, the desperate wishes of a kid who hadn't yet learned to swallow the pain before others could pinpoint the weakness.  

But all he could remember was just wanting to not feel so alone.  

So he sat there quietly holding Drakon, his hands rubbing small circles on the other man's back as the sobs wracking his body ebbed.  

Gods, he felt useless.  If there was something to kill, he'd know exactly how to react.  But this?  All he could do was make stupid soft sounds with his throat and rub Drakon's back.  What the fuck good was that?

When Drakon finally found the strength to stand, Adra felt a strange mixture of sadness, relief, and embarrassment.  He wasn't good at not being good at things.  Even worse...he didn't have any idea how to get better at this sort of shit.  It's not like he was about to go hang out with heartbroken people and practice giving comfort...he'd rather gouge his eyes out.  Sympathy wasn't his thing. 
 
Why, then, did he want so much to be able to give it?

He pushed away the thought.  He knew internally he could justify the urge as practical, just as he knew such a justification would be a lie.  Instead, he just wouldn't.  There was no room in his life for this, no room in his life for friendship or emotions.  He had a job to do.  

Adra focused on the task at hand.  Drakon stood in front of him, his eyes transfixed on a small pile of eggs.  Dragon eggs.  Real dragon eggs.

They were beautiful.  

Even before Drakon vowed to take care of them, Adra understood: those dragon eggs were Drakon's future.  The kid would look at those and see all the approval and validation he yearned to get from his father.  And, more likely than not, he'd be willing to die in the pursuit of proving he was worthy of something Albert was incapable of giving. 
 
Yeah, those eggs were Drakon's future - which meant that they were Adra's future as well.  Like it or not, he was tied to the Gör; their fates were intertwined the moment Albert had given the order so many years ago and would remain so until Albert showed up to relieve him of his duty.    

Fuck.  

His mind silently offered a prayer that Drakon knew how to take care of dragon eggs.  Not that they would ever be that lucky...but the Gör was a Van Markham...maybe shit like that was in his blood.

Drakon stood there, eyes watching the dragon eggs like a hawk. The eggs were warm to the touch. They still were being protected by fire that would soon fade. If the dragon eggs were going to survive, then Drakon needed to find a way to keep them warm. Constant fires and constant warmth. This moment sat here with him. The image of mere stories from childhood. His father speaks of his family's lost tradition. The ability to ride among dragons into battle. He heard stories of mighty warriors from his ancestors but somehow along the way the tradition had been lost. His father had talked about it briefly but Drakon knew he was always searching for the lost teachings. 

He sat down near the cluster of dragon eggs and turned to Adra. Drakon had no idea how he was going to do this but something deep within himself told him he had to. The vision drew him to it. His seer abilities were wild and chaotic and he never had enough training with his mother on the ability. Looking up to the ceiling, pondering if there were truly a god out there that would guide him through this. He was never religious but at this moment, he prayed to himself. 

Taking a breath, he finally found the energy to speak. 

[color=#008e02]"There were once legends...no not legends....stories from my family....long ago....lost in translation. The sensation of flight and power. Working together as one with dragons. We respect each other and rode alongside them in battle. My bloodline was once mighty warriors who found a way to work in tandem with the dragons. This is where the term Dragon Knight comes from...but somehow the history was lost. The tradition was lost. As if it was wiped from reality." [/color]

Pause. Silence filled the air. 

[color=#008e02]"I have to save them. This is my chance to prove to my father that I can be a Dragon Knight like him. Bring back the legends of old. To reclaim our family's rite. Maybe use this to help reclaim our city....Lak...Adra....I know your orders are with my father....but I beg of you to see me through this...then I will do what you say....I won't leave or try to escape....even stop looking for...." [/color]His words were desperate. As if he was beseeching his protector. Convincing him to just do this thing for Drakon. Even if it meant sacrificing his search for Ezra. As much hope Drakon had to find Ezra, it got him into dangerous situations. If Ezra was still out there, maybe one day he would find him. Hope was still there but fading slowly. A slow path of water flowed down Drakon's cheek. The thought of losing Ezra after finally hearing whispers of his return was hard for Drakon to handle. But what was important now, was to shift his attention to something more important. These Dragon eggs. 

[color=#008e02]"Maybe we can seek out Meg....or find someone with answers. I've heard rumors through cities we have passed. The witch of the wilds....the power to ward an entire city from darkspawn....maybe she will know someone who would know....I know this is a lot to ask of you...but please I beg of you....do this for me....I promise I will give you all the praise you need to my father....I'm sure he will promote your rank....." [/color]

Adra had a vague memory of tales, bedtime stories whispered by his mother before she'd been taken from him.  He remembered seeing and not understanding the far-away look in her eyes, the way she seemed as if she was sad she had lost something important.  The whole thing seemed to be blanketed in the gray haze of dreams as they evaporate into mist.

His stomach clenched.  Did Drakon really think Adra would deny him this? Did he think he was so single-minded that he wouldn't see fate as crashed down around them?  

But then again...it wasn't such a strange thought.  The Adrastus of four years ago would never have thought twice about abandoning the eggs in pursuit of his main objective.  Had he really changed so much?  Yes, he had.  The answer felt heavy on his chest.  

As usual, Adra pushed the thought away.  He needed to deal with the situation in front of him.  

For a second, the moment seemed surreal.  Drakon before him, his hand on a dragon egg, his eyes beseeching.  

He nodded, slowly.   [color=#7CD98A]"I don't need praise or rank, Drake.  My job is to protect you, which includes protecting your birthright and your legacy."[/color]  His eyes fell back to the eggs, the overwhelming burden of caring for such unknown creatures crashing down on him.  His voice was firm, committed. [color=#7CD98A]"You understand what this means, right?  This can't be done in half-measures."[/color]  

He considered the options Drakon had given, turning each over in his mind and measuring which way his gut was pushing him.  [color=#7CD98A]"The Witch of the Wilds, then." [/color] He looked up at the sky, checking his bearings.  He'd heard mention of her in Ferelden, so that seemed like a good place to start. Hopefully they would have better luck finding her than Albert or Ezra.

There was a relief that washed over Drakon as he watched Adra. He thought he would fight back. Give some excuse that this is beyond his pay grade or even how dangerous it is. Drakon at this moment, saw a part of Adra that he didn't see before. Someone who through away rewards and orders to do something that felt right. Birthright? Legacy? Drakon felt a warm sensation wrap around him. Butterflies. Or was that comfort? For the time being, Drakon eased his cold face with a light smile. His protector wasn't half bad. Maybe there was more to him than his father's lackey. But behind the firm and committed voice, Drakon could see something in Adra for but a moment. Someone who Drakon felt safe with. 

Then he snapped back into reality. Adra was still in protector mode. All he cared about was that Drakon was safe. Over the years of knowing who Adra was, he would do everything in his power to make sure his quest and mission were complete. Whether it was keeping Drakon safe or returning him to his father. If the opportunity arose, would Adra leave Drakon to his father or would he stay as a friend? Thoughts rushed throughout Drakon's mind. Countless thoughts. Protecting dragon eggs, his father's respect, family tradition, legacy, birthright, Adra. 

Drakon's body tighten as he heard Adra's firmness in words. He was on board but the responsibility of doing it right was written in stone along Adra's face. [color=#008e02]"I'm not some child who doesn't understand the weight in this situation...."[/color] Drakon responded quickly. There it was...back to normal between the two. He turned to face the eggs again as a small grin formed along his face. 

[color=#008e02]"Thank you....we should move camp here for the night." [/color] Drakon had determination. A newly lit fire beneath him. A goal. A mission. Legacy to uphold. 

Through the remaining night, both took turns gathering their camp supplies and moved toward the cave. After a restless few hours. Drakon would fall to slumber due to fatigue. His body and attention didn't leave the site of the eggs. Even in sleep his hand still grasp a few of the eggs, to shelter them. To keep them warm. 

Adra helped move the camp, finding wood and tinder to keep the fire going.  He knew dick about caring for eggs other than they were supposed to be kept warm.  

That would prove difficult if they also had to travel, but he'd figure it out. 

When everything was done, he found a large rock to lean against as he watched the fire.  Drakon had fallen asleep and the sound of his breathing let Adra know he had succumbed to the deep slumber that followed a terrible battle. 

Adra was tired but couldn't sleep.  So, instead, he made plans.  

If they heated the eggs and then bundled them, they should be able to squeeze out a few hours of travel before needing to stop again.  It would be slow going, but they'd get there.  

How long until the eggs hatched?  What would happen if they didn't make it all the way to the Witch?  There were so many questions that didn't have answers.  

Nowhere to go but forward. At least now they had an idea which way was forward.