The Dragon's Consort

Chapter 5

Zara dreaded every step she took through the waist high marsh. Every single one was miserable. She was drenched in thick, murky water. It was a mercy she travelled barefoot, lest her socks and boots become eternally soaked. She was convinced her clothes would never dry. Her feet kept catching on sticky roots and vines, squelching in the mud.

Every step also meant she was one closer to meeting Zurden's brotherhood. It was both more and less tense than it was before. He actually tried speaking with her, very awkwardly at that, and she was too lost in her thoughts to produce coherent answers.

She kept struggling to move forward, half-hating herself for not taking Zurden's offer of being carried over the bog. When she said no, he insisted that she at least take off her cloak and a few of her many layers, that were now slowing her down. But there was no chance of that happening. She knew that beneath her thick tunics was an enticing, feminine shape. Curse the gods for giving her such a glorious figure.

As she finally scraped and pulled herself out of the miserable swamp. She grumbled as the chill set in. She silently summoned some magic to start warming her clothes, not enough to be noticeable, but anything quicker than just air drying was good enough for her.

"You're going to be cold," Zurden teased. Only half joking. She growled at him, watching in disgust as he shook like a dog to get somewhat dry.

"You're an animal," she whispered to no one in particular. He gave a wicked and boyish smirk, quite content with himself.

Zara went to continue walking, but he stopped her. He got still, and his golden eyes changed, seemed to glow. He looked around, nostrils flared, before making an odd howling noise. It awakened something inside her; to answer with a call of her own. Except, someone else beat her to it.

A much louder emerged from deep in the forest. It was primal and strangely comforting.

A grin spread across his face, and he ran off; sprinting into the woods with reckless abandon. She hissed, chasing after him. If she hadn't trained her speed for so long, she'd have far behind him, but she kept pace, matching his strides.

A great, imposing shape emerged from the shadows, arms outstretched. Zurden was pulled into a brutish embrace with the stranger.

He was even more bulky than Zurden, who was leaner and taller. His hair was longer too, tied in a man bun, stray black hairs scraping across the tops of his shoulders. Red scales climbed across the sides of his throat and the base of his neck. His bare chest was covered in whorling patterns of tattoos, and recognized the same brotherhood marking that Zurden had hidden within the shapes.

They ignored her for a solid minute, hugging and trading loving, childish insults. Despite the fact that Zurden was soaked, dripping water as they wrestled. Eventually the taller one noticed her presence, eyes widening.

"Zuri, you son a bastard, you actually found a youngling. I thought you had truly lost your senses when you ran off after some human made rumor," he chuckled. 'Zuri?' That was his nickname?

"Merchants don't lie brother, not anymore," Zurden crowed, motioning for Zara to step forward, "this is one of my brothers, Kaghet."

Kaghet scoffed, "call me Kano."

She just gave a nod in response, acknowledging him. Zurden physically pushed her forward, so that she was actually part of the conversation.

"This is Sarros," he paused, "of House Vermithrax."

Kano let out a snort, "that's not as funny as you think it is, brother."

"I'm serious, he is the son of Prince Sarros," Zurden gestured to her face, as if that proved his point.