The Scion Of Nyx

III

Eulalia

⚭

Exactly at sunset, after a full day of marching, we finally caught smudges of smoke in the horizon, as the tops of tents began appearing in the distance.

A huge, reflective black spot appeared amongst the tents. At first, Acheron tensed, the tops of his pointed ears twitching as he listened in, unable to see inside the camp properly. Then, I watched as his shoulders slumped back down, as he calmed.

I did not wait for his explanation, knowing that the second moon on the horizon was more likely to set before he offered me one. I flicked my shadows out, and watched as they jumped from darkness to darkness, startling the feet of immortal horses, before reaching camp.

I allowed shadows to seep in my eyes, and confiscate my eyesight. A moment later, my sight reappeared in the war camp. The image flickered slightly, as I observed uniformed, furred soldiers move freely before me, blocking my view. And then a roar shook the ground, as all soldiers and blacksmiths jumped. They cleared the path before my shadows, as I saw what they all did; an extraordinarily monstrous dragon.

My shadow sight allowed me to observe that not only was it a dragon, it was a huge, black war dragon, with obsidian, scaled spikes all over its body. Bigger than any I had ever seen before. It was as though fatal shards of black glass jut from its tail, all the way up its spine and wings, to its head. Its snout was not as long than the dragons I was used to in the mortal realm, instead girthier and built more strongly. Unlike the dragons used for sport, which were lean and skinny, this one was sturdy and muscular, clearly intended for resilience and battle.

"A true war dragon" I gasped out, returning to my own vision, the horse jolting beneath me. I blinked for a moment, adapting to the blindingly snowy landscape before me, in place of the bustling war camp. Acheron gave me a suspicious side glance, before sighing tiredly, and shaking his head, already anticipating chaos. He did not appreciate my nosiness, or as I deemed it: attentiveness.

I suddenly found myself out of breath from excitement at the prospect of this great monster, as a wide smile curved up my rosy cheeks. Without looking at Acheron, or thinking the action through at all, I eagerly flicked the reins to my steed. The war horse instantly reared up, before galloping through the procession of soldiers. Wind whipped my face as we ran faster and faster. Some shouted in dismay, and I could only pray that Acheron would follow in suit, before my horse would get too far from her mate and halt in place.

A millisecond after I bolted, I heard Acheron roar my name from behind, before the earthshaking sound of horse hooves began pursuing after me. My smile widened even further at the chase, as we continued galloping all the way down the snowy hill, before bursting into camp.

Before I managed to trample some foot soldiers with my horse, or crash headfirst into the blacksmith tent, Acheron's hand reached over and harshly ripped the reigns from my hands. He jerked our horses to a sudden stop, his chest rising and falling heavily. I could not tell if it was from being out of breath from the chase, or from rage, but I could not bring myself to particularly care.

I tried to slip off my horse and jump to ground from the high distance, but Acheron quickly grabbed me from the scruff. I gasped, choking by the sudden cutoff of airflow.

"No" He ordered, "You will stay in place"

Finally, after a moment of me clawing at my throat, he released me. The pressure that gathered in my head quickly deflated. I gasped for air, shooting him a glare. His amber eyes held no guilt nor regret, only boredom.

He flicked his reigns, holding mine in his other hand, "There is a generals meeting tonight. Wash up before dinner. Bring yourself into a decent state. You smell of horse"