The Dragon's Consort

Chapter 8

ARMOS

The forest was quiet, as it usual was. The world was so still and serene. Armos felt at peace with nature, could sense its heart beating alongside his. He missed his brothers. It was not often that he left them. He wasn't like Cadmus, he didn't run away everytime life became too much to handle.

The youngling that tagged alongside him was quiet, still rocked by the shock of losing his father. Lord Xarrvius had died in an accident. Dragon slayers had come across him, and even though he had managed to kill them, he still sustained a fatal wound, followed by a venom induced fever. Such was the danger of a lone dragon.

The boy, named Kevdron was tall for his age, his jaw was studded with green scales, matching his hollow eyes. He was hurting, mourning the last family he had, since his uncles had died in the Demise, and his mother having died giving birth.

Armos remembered the Demise. The anarchy that arose when it was announced that Queen Astrid had taken her dying breath. The males trampled each other to death, brawled in the streets of the capital, their only city. Tens of thousands died in the chaos and fighting as they all struggled to capture the few human women that remained. Never before that had he seen so much blood. Any blood for that matter.

He remembered the blur of time after Cadmus had grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the city as it burned behind them, along with all 10 males that were close to their age, Zurden, Qaris and his brother, and Kano's brothers. Cadmus was just barely out of his youngling years himself, only 16. He was too young himself to be taking care of them, but he made due, even after Qaris' brother died, even as Kano's brothers did as well. Even when they found Illdrie, wandering, freshly grieving his brother's death.

It was a horrible event, pushed their species even closer to death. But there was still beauty in it, they had all found each other. And now they had a new brother, in Kevdron.

Even in their failures, they had become well known enough to be recognized as a trusted brotherhood, enough so that a once powerful lord was willing to entrust them with his only son.

He expected Cadmus would return soon, done with the most recent leg of his fool's errand. Armos thought him a buffoon for trying so hard for something he could never again have.

Back in the days before the Demise, Cadmus had a human sweetheart. He loved her since childhood, and with all his heart; was determined to have her as his mate when he turned 20 and was of age. Even when he was slotted alongside Zurden to become mates with the future queen. He was determined to run away with her, despite the honor it was to become a royal consort.

Armos was once jealous of him, knew that his brother would become a king. Had once been so desperate to prove his worth. Despite the fact that the queen's child died. He had been so convinced she would have another, but she never did. Not before her death swept through the city.

He had mourned for so long after, too long. Not because he lost that worm of a father, but because he lost any chance of showing up his brother, of having a queen of his own. Atleast he had given up on his pursuit, unlike his brother.

Kevdron sighed behind him, and turned to see tears rolling down the boy's face. Armos kneeled looking him in the eye, and the boy faltered.

He wouldn't bother asking what's wrong, he knew the pain too well.

"I understand why you're upset. I know I cannot make the pain better, and I can only offer my support. My brothers are strong, they can and will protect you from ever experiencing this again; but importantly, they are kind. They've never once hurt a youngling, they wouldn't dare. It may not be the ideal situation, but at least you're safe, and not alone," Armos watched him wipe the tears from his face. "We're almost there. Are you ready to meet them?"

The boy nodded, and they continued.

It wasn't long until he caught scent of them, and called out. The odd guttural sound they used to warn each other. A few signaled in return, and he grabbed Kevdron's hand, and pulling him forward.

He recognized the camp they'd made a month ago, their longest in a while. He saw Kano, Qaris and Illdrie making their way towards him. He also saw Zurden, kneeling next to an odd pile of clothes. Wait...

That was another dragon. His mind barely registered that it was a youngling instead of a female. The only hint was the fact that it was impossible for one to be alive. The youngling looked otherwise scrawny, too scrawny. Only one set of horns as opposed to their two, as he was clearly still growing. His face was delicate and pretty, too much for any self-respecting male. Armos' eyes met their red ones, and he could've sworn a terrified look flickered behind the unmoving façade.

Armos stepped forward, tearing his gaze away, "this is Lord Xarrvius' son, Kevdron. He has made it here in one piece. But it appears he isn't the only one."

Zurden stood, and so did the youngling. His brother guiding the kid closer. The boy looked wary of him, nostrils flaring as he assessed the situation. Armos could feel the lengthy stare down he was receiving.

Zurden made the boy stand beside him, "and this is Prince Sarros' son, also named Sarros."

His breath caught in his throat, "you found a prince?" Kevdron rustled behind him, clearly shocked as well.

"Yes, and he is quite a little show -off. Put Zurden on his ass yesterday in sparring," Illy chuckled.

"Twice," Kano added.

Zurden rolled his eyes, and pushed Sarros in front of him, and shoved the boy's hand out, making them shake hands.

"You need to put on some muscle princeling, I almost thought you were a female," Armos grinned.

Sarros laughed awkwardly. "I suppose so. Wouldn't want you making that mistake again."

Armos cocked a brow, but moved on, "I don't suppose you have any royal crests on you?"

"Do you not believe me?" Sarros hissed.

"Do you have them or not?" Armos smirked.

The boy rolled his eyes, before pulling out a silver royal crest from his bag, Armos saw a few glittering underneath it. There had to be several in that bag. Each worth a mountain of gold. A devious idea formed in his head.

His eyes lit up, "how many do you have?"

"A dozen or so," Sarros gave him a wary look, "too many."

Armos just chuckled, "are you willing to part with any of them?"

"Why would I ever do that?"

"Imagine the night of pure debauchery those could buy," Armos smiled. He was more money hungry than he remembered.

The prince returned the grin, "debauchery indeed..."

"Then how about we celebrate your welcome, by heading into the nearest town, and indulging, in such debauchery?"

Sarros threw the pouch to Armos, but not before hiding something in his sleeve, a crest that glittered gold; the queen's crest.

"Very well. It's not like I have use for these anyways," Sarros said.

Armos caught the pouch, "welcome to the brotherhood, Prince Sarros."

He would not soon forget that the boy held the queen's crest, nor the power it had. Nor would he forget that the boy was keeping it a secret, and Armos was determined to find out why.