Rhama’s head snapped up as she heard a clap, a sound that was growing far too familiar to her. She turned around towards the door, the dangling pieces of metal, stone, and various shells jingling and clicking as she moved.
It had taken her hours to get ready, sanding, oiling, and buffing her scales until they gleamed, glinted, and reflected the warm firelight. The metal, which was all warm gold, copper, and bronze, did the same. By dracanae standards, she looked stunning, internally, she giggled a little to think of Xacspheles’s response to her grandeur.
“My, my, Rhama.” Her attention was brought back to Notchimine, who was looking her up and down in an increasingly forward manner. “I never was one to. . . Appreciate the dracanae, but just look at you.”
The loogaroo approached, and Rhama stood still, relaxed with her long, powerful tail swaying smoothly behind her, the decorations jingling softly. He didn’t touch her, and was more than a foot beneath her height, his head reaching her bust. He circled her, then smirked as he came back around to her front.
“You’ve done well, Rhama, I am quite pleased.”
She knew that he was saying that to irritate her, dracanae didn’t please anyone, save themselves. She was not a pet, a servant, or a slave, the last thing she wanted to do was please her captor. It took all of her willpower not to lash out and rip those curling lips right off of his face.
Rhama let out a small growl and licked her lips, channeling her fury into her mind’s eyes, imagining every possible torture she would inflict upon this creature, and everything he loved. Notchimine raised his eyebrows at her sudden, savage grin, one that let all of her teeth, specialized for the shredding and tearing of flesh, show.
“Minoke, what is she thinking and feeling right now?”
Rhama just grinned wider at his question, and doubled her efforts.
“Ahem.” The kitsune cleared his throat a little and pinned his ears back. “She’s imagining various ways of killing you, Lord Quinn, all of them violent, bloody, and also psychological. She’s moving on to burning all of your estates, torturing and killing Lady Barker-”
“That’s enough.” Notchimine silenced Minoke, then raised his eyes to look at Rhama, arcane fire flaring in their depths. “You’re mistaken if I’ll ever allow you to harm my lover, dracanae.”
She chuckled and stared down at him smugly. “You’re mistaken if you think you’ll have to power to stop me if I choose to, loogaroo.” She paused and bent down a little, looking stoically, but intensely into his shifting eyes. “I will get free if I have to carve that cursed kitsune-stone from my belly with my bare hands, and I will avenge my pride, and that of my once-mate. I sense his mind-of-heart on your person and know you’ve tampered with it. For the pain you’re causing him, I will return it to you tenfold.”
The fire in the loogaroo’s eyes dimmed, she began to smile, then was knocked sideways. She felt the cold in her belly spike, and was quite suddenly paralyzed, with the loogaroo’s boot on her neck. The kitsune was keeping her still, if he wasn’t, Notchimine would have been thrown away like a rag doll.
“I will enjoy breaking your spirit, dracanae.”
The boot was removed from her neck and she was enveloped by a purple flame, and was suddenly lying on the cold tile floor of a Hekavatian mansion.
The tiles were white and smoothly polished, the ceiling was high and held up by scalloped white pillars. There was a balcony overlooking the streets, which weren’t quite dark yet. From the ceiling hung an ornate chandelier, clearly dracanae crafted, with every care put into its making. On the walls, large pictures of landscapes were tastefully displayed on the walls.
Soft hills and flowing grass, blue skies filled with puffy clouds, a little house, fields of rice, the Nogikitsune empire. Beaches, fishing villages, docks, warm sunsets, crystalline waves that sparkled in the light, the Auric empire. Great mountains, covered in snow, or flourishing with great swathes of green and filled with life, the Zuric empire.
She hated them all.
There was one portrait she liked, and she approached it without hesitation. It was far from the rest of the paintings, in a darker part of the room that led off to private rooms.
It was a middle-sized painting of a collection of towering volcanoes, each one like a spire of stone into the sky. The sky itself was clouded over and tinged red-orange and black. On from the mountains, lava fell in ribbons of liquid fire, ringing these mountains, a rich, green rainforest with towering trees.
Her home, Drakae, and this was a portrayal of their capital, Babyl.
“As much as it pleases me to see that you’re enjoying this setting, Strangler, I’d like you to listen.”
Her whiskers flicked, then she turned to the loogaroo, keeping her face neutral and mask-like. The kitsune was far away, so very far away, she could kill the loogaroo now. Rhama kept walking as if she had no intentions to kill this creature, but internally, her mana rose and heated, making her heart speed and her claws extend.
He kept that cursed smirk on his face, and waited until she was only inches away from him.
Rhama kicked out viciously, the yelped as her foot hit nothing but air and she toppled over.
“I thought you’d do that, so I merely sent this projection of myself to transport you here. When you return there will be a punishment for your insolence and though I’m sure you’re very angry at this moment, please refrain from destroying this room, or your punishment will be all the worse, and so will your once-mate’s. Be a good lizard and keep the coming guests entertained, fed, happy, and pleased.”
Notchimine grinned, winked flirtatiously, then faded from her sight.
Rhama stood on her feet, then let out a shrieking roar that made the earth and the building shake with her fury. She panted softly, overcome with rage. Her entire body trembled and her scales rattled.
Musicians entered, carrying a wide variety of instruments, drums, horns, flutes, harps. They set up in the back corner and began tuning their instruments. Not long after, tables were set up and food was laid out, it smelled divine, but she refused to partake of it.
“Excuse me, e-” Rhama whirled around, raising her eyeridges and pressing her lips together into a thin, red line. “Err. Do you know where Lady Barker is?”
“Holly will not be attending tonight.” She stated coolly, pacing around the room impatiently. “I am the replacement hostess for Notchimine.”
“Oh. Is she alright?”
“Holly isn’t my concern.” She growled softly to the diminutive man. “She’s not yours either.”
He gulped, then nodded and scurried off. Rhama threw open the doors and windows, letting in the rich, rainbow-scented air of Cerrenon. Most probably couldn't see it, but above all the witch cities shone great, multicolored ribbons of light. Orange, red, yellow, and white all spread out towards the west; blue, green, purple, and black to the east.
Rhama snorted and turned away, white claws clicking on the stone floors. She longed for the black and red clouded skies of her homeland, to hear the steady roar of the molten rock, and the cacophony of the sounds of the great jungles where she hunted, fought, and won.
Impatient for the guests to arrive, she waited by the door, towering over the smaller loogaroo guards. Soon she'd kill her captors and return home even if it took her very last breath and drop of flaming blood.
