Ortai Legacy

6 - Drykon Ranch (L)

I woke up- no, I wasn't awake. I was in a circle of white floor surrounded by gray fog that often appeared in my dreams.

As always, Mark was here too, dressed in nothing but shorts that revealed his pale blue chest. He looked less happy to see me than usual.

"Lady Ortai-" He sat in front of me with a slight frown. "How would you like me to address you?"

The fragrant smell of roasting steak and gravy made it difficult to think. "Whatever's fine."

He paused. "Is this a test? Has all of this been a test? Why did you never tell me what you were? What do you want from me?"

It was hard not to lean closer and breathe in his scent. "Chill, it's not a test. Like I said before, I'm not an Ortai. But if you want everyone to think you're a cool Ortai knight, I won't tell anyone I'm human. Well, not again, I mean."

"If this is a test, please tell me, and I'll treat you with respect deserving of your status. However, if this isn't a test and you honestly think you're human-"

"I do. 'Cause I am." I wanted to taste him, but that would've been rude while we were talking.

He swallowed as I drifted closer. "In that case, do you still think this is a dream?"

"Yeah, but it's a really weird dream. Like, I'm pretty sure you would hold a grudge if I bit you right now." But I desperately wanted to do it. Why was I so dang hungry?

His feathers stuck straight up. "Do you want to bite me?"

"So much. No idea why, but I'm so hungry, and you smell really good."

"Your arka is dangerously low, so your instincts must be telling you to take mine. Do you always feel hungry when you take my arka?"

"Have I done it before?"

He nodded. "Every time we've touched in this dreamscape."

"Does it hurt?" Why did I feel bad for stealing a made-up substance from a figment of my imagination? Admittedly, I was more hungry than guilty, but I still felt a little guilty.

"It doesn't hurt." His tail curled at his side. "It's rather pleasant, likely an effect meant to pacify your arka source."

"Oh?" I leaned closer, taking hold of his arms. "So you like it?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Fighting the urge to jump on him, I scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His face fell. "The sensation is enjoyable, but it clouds my judgement and distracts me from the fact that you've never seen me as a real person."

Digging my nails into my thighs, I forced myself to pull back. The hunger in my chest roared, but it wasn't any more real than he was. I wouldn't actually starve without a mythical substance, and if I wanted this dream to remain pleasant, I shouldn't upset the best part of it.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." I turned away from him. It helped a little with the smell—but not much.

"Are you angry that I want to be considered a real person?" Indignation crept into his voice.

"No, I'm just trying not to bite you. Go away."

"Liza-" His smell wafted over my shoulder.

"I'm serious, this is really hard. You need to move over there." I waved at the opposite side of the circle.

"I didn't say I wouldn't give you arka."

"Well, you sure don't sound like you want to."

"I can't say that I do, but it's blatantly obvious that your Ortai instincts want you to take my arka. I doubt you would have such a strong reaction if it weren't necessary for your health."