Adrastus nodded in response to Drakon's words. They were close now...though to what, he didn't know.
He just knew that when he woke up this morning, things seemed different...like the future that had been far beyond the horizon was about to suddenly be within reach.
His eyes once again went to the sky, scanning the treeline for signs of a dragon. The idea that they were hoping to rush head-first into a dragon encounter seemed crazy. That they were going to do it while carrying dragon eggs from another creature seemed suicidal.
But he kept his thoughts to himself. Drakon was a Van Markham. That surname came with power, responsibility, and destiny. What would he know about any of that?
Well, he knew about responsibility.
People like him had to claw their place in the world, had to scrape out what trust and respect they could. Then, people like him had to die so the Van Markhams could stand upon their corpses and achieve greatness. THe wasn't angry about it; it was just the way the world worked. Thousands of Sirideans and the like had to die so a handful of Van Markhams and Pentaghasts could live.
The fact that he was still alive spoke to nothing more than his skill and determination.
And he was determined - determined that Drakon would do this thing, determined that he'd chase his fate to whatever end, determined that Drakon would live. He had, after all, given Albert his word.
Besides, Drakon wasn't half-bad. If he could figure out how to stop acting like an entitled douchebag, he might even be...Nope. That line of thought had nowhere to go. Adra was doing his job.
Except it's not my job, and I know it. I'm doing what's right...and there's a good chance I'm going to end up dead as a reward.
Though...he wasn't going to die - not today at least.
[color=#7CD98A]"Well, hopefully, Flemmoth isn't hungry. Though...I can assure you that the way you smell isn't particularly appetizing."[/color] It was true...they smelled like they'd been on the road for a few days and hadn't had anything more than a field bath. It wasn't terrible, but certainly not great.
Adra adjusted the straps of the pack he carried. [color=#7CD98A]"No stopping now," [/color]he agreed. Then, to himself, he quietly added, [color=#7CD98A]"Once more into the breach, dear friend." [/color]
He just knew that when he woke up this morning, things seemed different...like the future that had been far beyond the horizon was about to suddenly be within reach.
His eyes once again went to the sky, scanning the treeline for signs of a dragon. The idea that they were hoping to rush head-first into a dragon encounter seemed crazy. That they were going to do it while carrying dragon eggs from another creature seemed suicidal.
But he kept his thoughts to himself. Drakon was a Van Markham. That surname came with power, responsibility, and destiny. What would he know about any of that?
Well, he knew about responsibility.
People like him had to claw their place in the world, had to scrape out what trust and respect they could. Then, people like him had to die so the Van Markhams could stand upon their corpses and achieve greatness. THe wasn't angry about it; it was just the way the world worked. Thousands of Sirideans and the like had to die so a handful of Van Markhams and Pentaghasts could live.
The fact that he was still alive spoke to nothing more than his skill and determination.
And he was determined - determined that Drakon would do this thing, determined that he'd chase his fate to whatever end, determined that Drakon would live. He had, after all, given Albert his word.
Besides, Drakon wasn't half-bad. If he could figure out how to stop acting like an entitled douchebag, he might even be...Nope. That line of thought had nowhere to go. Adra was doing his job.
Except it's not my job, and I know it. I'm doing what's right...and there's a good chance I'm going to end up dead as a reward.
Though...he wasn't going to die - not today at least.
[color=#7CD98A]"Well, hopefully, Flemmoth isn't hungry. Though...I can assure you that the way you smell isn't particularly appetizing."[/color] It was true...they smelled like they'd been on the road for a few days and hadn't had anything more than a field bath. It wasn't terrible, but certainly not great.
Adra adjusted the straps of the pack he carried. [color=#7CD98A]"No stopping now," [/color]he agreed. Then, to himself, he quietly added, [color=#7CD98A]"Once more into the breach, dear friend." [/color]
04-22-2023, 10:08 PM
