Secrets
Time passes. The subtle shifts of water nuzzling the narrow lake shore and the strained rustle of folded leaves, smothered by the blue weed, is all that breaks the silence. The pain, at least, ebbs, at least as long as she isn't moving. Her mind is full of indistinguishable thoughts and whispers, the occasional cry of indetermined source.
Kemeneth shivers slightly but doesn't move other than that, tears beading her muzzle. She doesn't make a sound then and it looks like she has fainted although she hasn't. Not quite. Her breath hisses out then as she carefully stretches, wincing slightly before she laps at the water, thirstily.
The dull thud of footsteps can be heard approaching from one of the tunnels leading to the garden. Soft, near-rhythmic yelps can be heard, each bearing semblance to a jittery gasp. Gurgled: "...monster!" It's Nawlath, his two antennae crushed in a fierce grip of the larger dragon, the stranger's other hand clasped around Nawlath's neck.
Kemeneth flinches, whimpering shallowly as she raised her head but nothing more. She eyed her big brother, tears pouring down her face before she sagged, whining with pain. "Stop hurting us... please..." she almost begged, her voice cracking. She shuddered then, swallowing hard and trying to stop crying.
Finally, Kemeneth is given the opportunity to look at the intruder. The dull light of the tunnels softens what would otherwise be a sharply outlined shape - he appears almost grotesque, his limbs so well defined, spelling out a strength any of them could only dream of. And what an exotic skin - silver and blue, entwined in bizarre, surreal patterns... and bright, frighteningly aware eyes. His antennae are turned downwards and outwards slightly, tense with aggressive concentration. He snorts a silent chuckle, before casting Nawlath down beside Kemeneth... the impact with the ground trembles through Kemeneth, and scales touch scales. The stranger's left foot pushes against Nawlath's belly, keeping him on the ground...
Kemeneth trembles and lowers her gaze, shuddering hard before gently and carefully nuzzling at her older sibling's shape. She is still crying, but she isn't actually aware of it any more and, as he is pinned, shivers harder, not daring to lift her gaze and glare at the - to her - intruder. "Who are you...?" she half-growls, half-whimpers.
This beast wasn't even acknowledging them. As those fingers twirl and create a new pole, driving it into Nawlath's left thigh akin to Kemeneth's pin, the sound of breaking bones can be heard, snapping under the strain of the inch-wide impact. Nawlath howls, and his pain shoots through Kemeneth's senses. The antennae of the stranger twitch into a rise hesitantly, even as Nawlath's own cling to his neck as he bravely attempts to supress whimpers and wails.
Kemeneth half snarls then screams lowly, pain ripping through her slender shape all over again. Shivering, she nudges at her bother's neck, trying to be soothing for a couple of long seconds before she stops, thinking it a worthless effort since they are both in pain. She sags then, panting shallowly. "What... who... is he?" she whispered, her eyes closed.
Leaving both suffering dragons by the lake, the stranger leaves again. Nawlath, delerious due to his pain, seems oblivious to Kemeneth's question. Instead, he utters words that Kemeneth understands to be of the Ancient Tongue - and as insults - but doesn't know. His snarl is vicious... only to break apart into pained whimpers.
Kemeneth swallows hard, inhaling deeply forcing back her own sobs and letting anger rise to the surface. She doesn't struggle although she does run a forepaw back towards the pole. She knows she's not strong enough to yank it out.. but maybe... just maybe... she could break it...
Kemeneth manages move the slightest bit then crumples, wailing in pain.
The pain makes the wait seem like an eternity, and both of them are silent but for their own laboured breathing, nothing else invading their senses but for those rhythmic sounds and their own pain.
Kemeneth whimpers then shallowly, trembling ever so slightly in agony before she became still and silent, burying her muzzle in Nawleth's neck, but gently. Tears soaked her face and so his neck but she remained quiet, trying to distance herself from the pain.
The sound of scales scraping against mossy, dried weed becomes audible. If Kemeneth found it in her to raise her head and glance across Nawlath's sprawled shape, she would see the stranger, alien scales glinting in the ambient light, left hand clawed into Sidoreth's tail, right sunk into Atiyath's, both dragons limply dragging behind him, folded in on themselves at awkward, worrying angles.
Kemeneth opens her eyes and looks across Nawleth's shape before she shivers and lowers her gaze, sobbing softly with pain, her eyes closing again. She licked at her lips then, stretching towards the pool to take up a tongueful of water before she lay still again and silent.
Barely visible in the dim light, red streaks the right arm of the stranger, individual droplets falling and staining the weed in his wake. He dumps Sidoreth and Atiyath beside the two stakes dragons and regards the four with scrutiny. "Where are the others?" The voice is horribly pleasant, like a purr, despite being demanding, and those slitted eyes of cold fire burning down at the Srians.
Kemeneth shivers and opens her eyes as the larger dragon speaks. Trembling she shakes her head. "I don't know... - I... haven't seen anyone other than my family... which are all here..." she falls silent then, lowering her gaze.
Silence. The weed crackles softly under the stranger's feet as he shifts. His gaze drifts across the garden, eyes twitching, taking in the signs of habitation, trying to seperate them by cause. The eyes narrow abruptly. "Who are you trying to protect? Who is she?" the stranger glances down towards the two conscious dragons.
"You fool, you think we'll..." The sound is cut off and Nawlath howls as the stake in his leg is yanked sideways, tearing at his wound.
Kemeneth shudders, trembling harder as she lowered her gaze. She gently nudged at Nawleth then, sobbing softly. She didn't say anything now, confused, scared and in pain.
"Who?" the stranger repeats, glaring down at Nawlath, gripping his head in his right paw almost with painful force. Nawlath remains silent, though it's unsure whether it's foolishness on his part, or if he's too numbed by pain to respond...
Kemeneth grits her teeth and remains quiet, shudders making her scales ripple. "There is no-one else," she whispered, tears pouring even faster down her face. She looked up at the stranger then, her eyes narrowed slightly.
Kemeneth's body twists, momentum of the backhand almost throwing her, and furious pain travels up from her trapped leg, nearly causing her to pass out. "I'm no fool - but I am short on patience."
Kemeneth roars in pain then crumples, her shape limp. Whimpering weakly she sniffles without that she says anything. She shudders again, her eyes closing as pain continues to flash through her.
A glittering, scaled brow arching, the stranger regards the bundle of family and snorts condescendingly before resting a foot on Kemeneth's shoulder and yanking the piece of metal out of her leg. What happens next is drowned out of Kemeneth's senses by the sensation of fire travelling through her veins, and blood wells lethargically from the now open wound.
Kemeneth lies perfectly still for a long moment, panting weakly before she raises her head as her eyes open. She shudders a little and flicks a look to her wounded leg, before looking up at the stranger, too weak to get to her paws and too wise to even so much as attempt a snarl at him.
Sidoreth's pained gasp is barely audible through the rhythmic throb in Kemeneth's skull, which had only been briefly stabbed at by another, undefined sensation. If she were to look, she would see Sidoreth now half-conscious, a mark from the metal staff bruising his shoulder and neck. "Who are you hiding?" the stranger nudges Sidoreth's jaw with the foot that had pinned Kemeneth down before. If the stranger is angry, he's good at masking it - his voice, while calculating, seems to contain no actual malice, bizarrely.
Kemeneth trembles a little, her voice cracking. "We're not hiding anyone." She lowers her head then, trying to ignore the fresh burst of tears that are trickling down her face. She shivers then with pain as she swallows a sob.
Sidoreth utters some semblance of a groan, clearly struggling to stay conscious, the blow to his side having been crude. His muzzle opens an inch as though he was going to speak, but he doesn't muster the energy. Instead, the stranger snarls, before turning his attention to Kemeneth. "So, if you're hiding 'no one', then perhaps you can tell me where precisely 'no one' is hiding? Or do I have to gut one of you before you'll speak?" he arches a brow, looking disturbed, irritated by the lack of self-preservation in these creatures.
Kemeneth shudders, lowering her head further before she licks at her lips then raises her head, actually snarling. "We are not hiding anyone damnit! There is no-one else. There is only us." She shudders then, trembling hard, the snarl having swiftly faded away again.
"She's dead, you freak of nature," Nawlath utters, lowly, past gritted teeth.
The stranger, forepaws still clutched around the pole he'd torn from Kemeneth and used as a weapon, slows to a halt in his motions. Silence, his gaze drifting elsewhere in quiet contemplation, jaw setting. Then, simply: "My condolences." A moment later, the pole whips around through the air and slams against Nawlath's skull, causing him to howl brokenly.
Kemeneth sobs raggedly. "He's telling the truth," she whimpered. "She died in a cave-in..." Her shape trembles and she pushes herself up into a sit, panting raggedly. Her eyes close then as she pants, her tongue running over her drying lips.
The stranger chuckles, the sound coming from somewhere in his gut. "I'm certain," he acknowledges, before pressing the tip of the pole against Kemeneth's jaw, nudging her muzzle up in the process and regarding her with a sneer. "That was your lesson. Don't try to deceive me again."
Kemeneth opens her eyes and whimpers, unmoving as she is sneered at. She pulls away after several long second and lowers her head, flicking a look to her injured thigh. Her breath rattles in her throat and she shivers but doesn't let herself crumple again, her eyes narrowing.
The stranger breathes in audibly and steps away from the group of four, regarding them from afar. His gaze crosses Atiyath, who is still out cold, the twilighted Sidoreth, and Nawlath and Kemeneth in their pain. "Now then, Srians," he proclaims. "Listen carefully, as I will not repeat my offer," he nods, as if to himself, before glancing idly at Atiyath. "Except for him," he adds, in passing, dismissively waving a forepaw.
"As you are now, you are hideously deformed, as well as mentally instable. Your genetic defects have altered both your body and mind, former which I'm sure you have noticed, latter which you cannot be aware of. My only hope at this point is that you realise your inferiority - and the danger you pose to others - and accept the remedy."
Kemeneth shivers, not looking up at him, but she is listening. She flicks a look to her father then, shaking a little harder. She exhales then, waiting for him to continue, her eyes narrowing further.
Silence. Shahrivrath lets his gaze travel across his captives again, before twiddling the staff around slightly, grimacing briefly. "That's the offer. Take it or leave it."
Kemeneth inhales deeply before she speaks. "Before I... eh... choose..." she pauses, hating herself. "What is the remedy?" she narrows her eyes, her lips skimming back from her teeth ever so slightly. She ignores her family now, focussing only on the taller and - dare she even think it - handsome stranger.
The stranger shakes his muzzle, rolling those blue eyes. "How can that even matter?" he asks, irritatedly. "This isn't about you. It's about those who have the misfortune of living around you primal creatures, subject to the whims of your magical outbreaks."
Kemeneth snorts but not disrespectfully. "Well, it matters to me," she whispers. A quiver runs through her then, her eyes drifting semi-closed as she peers down at her older brother before gently nuzzling at his shape, silently seeking advice from him.
Shahrivrath narrows his eyes at Kemeneth, grasp on the metal staff tightening, a strange light in his eyes. "I should count that as a 'No, thank you,'" he hisses, another brief roll of the eyes accompanying the shake of his muzzle. "It's magically complex, I doubt you would understand. Do you want to know if it hurts? Yes, it does. Do you want to know if it changes you? Yes, it does, that's the whole point. Do you want to know, say, if it makes you grow a polka-dot colouring and a second set of eyes?" He doesn't bother answering the last question, a brief suppressed, snorted snicker surfacing.
Kemeneth shivers then snaps, but not angrily, "Is it a crime to be curious?" she sighs heavily then, silent tears rolling down her face. "Don't hate me..." she pleads, directing her statement towards her family. "I don't want to die and this is the only way. He'll kill us all otherwise or keep torturing us at the very least."
With an extremely pained whimper, the young dragoness hauls herself to her feet, glaring up at Shahrivrath even as she held her injured leg off of the ground. She waited several long seconds to see if her family - that she loved dearly - would answer her.
There is no answer. The stranger himself seems to adopt an impatient look, laced with irritation. He wouldn't deny her the magic if it came down to it, of course, but her wording made him worry whether her own resolve would even hold. A crazed Hzataalar Kaean was worse than a living Srian, albeit only marginally.
Kemeneth lowers her head, feeling beaten. "I accept," she whispers, her voice shaking. She doesn't look anywhere but the floor now, her shape shuddering. "Please forgive me..." she directs to her family. Her eyes drift closed then and she awaits whatever may come.
"Murderer of your lineage!" Nawlath suddenly snarls, snapping his head out at her, teeth gnashing at air, pain still evident in his eyes even as his face is contorted by fury. The metal impacts with his head again, and his yowl is a short one before he falls silent, collapsed on his side. His teeth had been inches before Kemeneth's very neck. "See?" Shahrivrath hisses. "Animals." His eyes narrowed, he pushes the end of the pole against Nawlath's shoulder, keeping him down, before reaching out with his right paw and sinking his claws into the weed around Kemeneth's forepaws. "What is your name, apprentice?" he asks, even as he crushes what has suddenly become bonedry.
Kemeneth flinches then snarls at Nawleth. "I don't want to die. And neither should you! I don't want any of you to die or see me die. The only way I can at least attempt to save myself is to accept what he says! Don't you see? I'm trying to save us!" She sighs then, tears pouring down her face. "Kemeneth," she whispered, before crouching beside her older brother.
"Please... I can't see another family member die, Nawleth... - please accept his proposal." She swallows hard then and flicks a look to Sidoreth. "I entreat you all to accept. Please..." Her tone is pleading for a second before she pushes herself up again, with a struggle.
Nawlath merely breathes labouredly, the multiple smacks beginning to take their toll. His mind numbed, he utters the softest groan of protest. Sidoreth, weak himself, shifts to nuzzle encouragingly at the younger dragon's neck.
"Kemeneth," the stranger acknowledges with a nod. "You cannot force wisdom unto your peers," he comments her attempts, idly shrugging. "You will know the name of your master as soon as we are done here." Shahrivrath runs his right forepaw across her forehead, across her antennae, a single, firm stroke. Nawlath wails weakly. Something stabs into Kemeneth's mind, an emotional statement akin to the words 'We are better off dead than with him.'
Kemeneth shivers before she whimpers and pulls away from Shahrivrath. "Please... - don't kill them..." she directs at the taller dragon. "Even if they do not accept. Please?" She flicks a look to her father then, trembling before she nudges at his shape gently. She eyes Nawleth then. "I don't understand..." she croaks, not looking at Shahrivrath now. "Not one of you would tell me anything. And now... well now..."
Kemeneth heaves a huge sigh. "Tell me now what you should have told me before. Before mother died. Before he came. I asked you and you wouldn't tell me then. So I am asking again."
And then, something dawns to her. They're not withdrawing from her mind. What will happen if they die? Surely if they had a shred of care they would think of the consequences of their own actions - or rather, lack thereof. Shahrivrath, meanwhile, is ignoring her pleas, stepping towards the male Srians, wielding the metal staff in both forepaws threateningly.
Kemeneth shivers, lowering her head. "Please...!" she begs of the taller dragon. "Don't kill them..." She shudders then, staring down at her family, her shape twitching. "Please... don't do this...!" The tears pour even faster down her face.
Nawlath's snarl is cut short as the Hzataalar Kaea seizes him by the throat and whips the staff around, before cruelly driving the tip through the green dragon's eye. Wings flail briefly, seconds before the pain of death impacts against Kemeneth like the front of a shockwave. With a hideous, wet noise, the staff had slid through Nawlath's skull, piercing past the eye on the other side and ramming into the ground.
Kemeneth howls in pain and crumples to the floor, her eyes closed. "Stop it!" she roars, her tail lashing. She shudders then, her muzzle brushing across Sidoreth's shape. She panted now, both forepaws clutching her head.
"May Avikael have mercy on your wretched soul," Sidoreth croaks, struck by the overwhelming tide of pain himself, his eyes closing as though to protect themselves from a stinging glare. The stranger shifts, gently nudging Kemeneth away from Sidoreth, his strength - compared to her own - absolute. Space ensured, he regards the older dragon with scrutiny, before sighing, grabbing his muzzle in his right paw, neck in the left - only to wrench former back until the spine snaps under the strain of the unnatural angle. Tense muscles loosen and Sidoreth's eyes dull as his shape goes limp.
Kemeneth sobs now, a huddled shape, pain washing through her. As her father slumps, her pushes against Shahrivrath's legs."I asked you not to," she semi-growls. "I begged you to stop." She trails off, sobbing hard. Heaving herself to her feet she dragged herself towards Atiyath, crumpling against his shape.
The stranger breathes heavily. It's the first time she's actually aware of it. Exertion takes its toll on him, and he leans against Sidoreth's corpse, forepaws sprawled out across the green scales, his wings folded, staring down at the slayn dragon. Slowly, his gaze drifts towards Atiyath. "We'll take him along," he informs Kemeneth. "He will decide once he wakes." He sounds tired and worn out.
Kemeneth nods, whimpering raggedly without that she looks at him, she doesn't look anywhere now, apart from into Atiyath's face. Hauling herself to her feet, she staggers slightly, almost falling again. It's then that Kanti appears. The other dragoness flicks a look to Shahrivrath before assuring herself that he seems to be okay if a little tired.
Kanti catches Kemeneth just before she falls and supports her, avoiding looking at the carcasses harself. She swallows hard and looks sideways at the other female before she sighs heavily. "Where to...?" She asks softly.
For all Kemeneth knows, this is another one of Shahrivrath's kind - without deformations, and instead, with flawless skin. Not that she knows much of 'his kind' to begin with, but it would be the natural assumption. "Your appearance is convenient," Shahrivrath nods to Kanti, before gesturing to Atiyath. "This one still breathes. We'll be taking him along." He pauses, glancing nowhere in particular for the briefest moment, before recomposing himself with a heaved sigh. "Kemeneth, I have to eat something. Where are your supplies?" he asks, hide rippling from strain.
Kemeneth shivers and raises dulled eyes to the taller dragon's face. "That way." She points out of the garden then. "Take the passage to the right." She shudders a little then, whimpering with pain. Kanti nods a little before stepping away from Kemeneth and picking Atiyath up, carefully. She staggers slightly then moves towards the garden's exit.
Kemeneth staggers again, almost falling before she limps after the other female, not looking at anyone once more.
The stranger shoots a glance to Kanti. "Both of you are either to stay put or join me," he sternly informs, before slowly beginning a steady, slow walk in the direction Kemeneth indicated, conserving his energies.
Kemeneth nods, whining shallowly as she follows him. Kanti glares at the other dragoness then stalks after Shahrivrath, disgusted by the ugly dragoness. Kemeneth keeps moving, although she is slow. Sweat and tears trickle down her shape and she shivers, pain making it hard to move very fast.