Apelles shook awake in darkness. He must have dozed off he thougth as he stared out in the black surronding him, waiting for his eyes to adjust. That should not have happened. But he was tired he had to admitt. Days. He had been walking for three days, without rest, without sleep.
Until now.
Slowly the darkness adjusted, became the vague shadows of a endless ocean of sand dunes stretching towards the Horizon and the stars glittering above them. No moon though. Just barely enough ligth to allow him to make out his surroundings.
He felt something massive move behind
him. A darker shadows before the darkness but he did not make any attempt to move himself. Only his hand fell on the grip of the axe resting on his folded legs.But only for a moment. The shadow moved closer, became a defined shape, a creature double his higth with massive wings folded to its side , that even now at nigth seemed to give off a soft , almost unnoticeable shimmer of red. Thin membranes that reflected the ligth. Black scales, crossed by brigth orange markings covered the body of the creature, long horns crowning its head, that slowly came into view. The almost unnoticeable glow of the burned out campfire the figure had been resting at
disappeared as it steped forward… and sat down in the sand besides Apelles.
„So you do need sleep after all.“
He did not answer the dragon. Its voice was deep and melodic, but still obviously female. And there always was this hint of sadness in it. He had heard many dragons speek over the years. Screaming in rage and pain mostly , but also even engaged in what one could call quite eloquent diplomacy. The only thing they all had in common was that hint of sadness. That subtle notion of a being so ancient that it had seen too much to ever fully enjoy life again. Not that he couldnt understand. He had seen wars spanning centurys. Empires crumble and bleed
out, all their glorys but dust and others rise in their stead unaware that the same fate was waiting for them too. And yet it was only a heartbeat compared to the life of a dragon. If not ended in violence that was.
„Yes I still need rest after all it seems.“ He wished he didnt say it. Speaking it out aloud made it somehow more… real then just thinking it., though he had known for some years now. How Human he had become. Maybe fearing that made him a monster after all. Even more so then the beast at his side.
Apelles didnt know what he expected as answer. Definitly not what happened next, as the creatures massive head came
to rest in his lap. The warmth the beast gave off was strangely comforting and so he didnt protest. His hand slipped off the axe handle, coming to rest on one of the creatures horns. The rigth one of colurse. The left one was gone, only an empty piece of cloth and bloodied bandages were it had been only a few days ago. And yet it still hurt he thougth as the hand followed the curvature of the dragons horn. The limb was gone but the arm still hurt as if someone had douzed it in fire.
He could still feel teeth digging into his skin, tendons and muscles ripping apart before… Blackness. He should not feel pain he thougth now angry and his hand
became a fist, the dragon moving under his grip, appearently feeling his rage. He let go. The head disappeared and for a moment only he recented the absence of warmth and at least the illusion of comfort it had brougth. He should not feel sad about that either. He should be unburdened by the weigth of a soul. Immune to the ravages of time. That had been the promise for that he had sacrificed everything when he swore his oaths. Oaths that now where long forgotten. The peole he made them before but dust. Yet here he remained. And he could feel it after all. His body becoming slower, joints stiffening and pain… On a basic, almost instinctual
level he understood why. Understood it as he understood the sadness of the dragons. The world had become emptier. Magic becoming replaced with machinery and the slow ticking of clockwork engines and the howling of steam. He was a remnant of a older world. He… and the dragon as well. That made them kin in a sense, even if that was something he would never speak aloud. And like all old relics, he had begun to rust, the spells that made him what he was slowly unravelling like so much old parchment.
He was not surprised to find the dragon still at his side when he looked up. He had hoped she had left. That would make things easier. Instead she had actualy
sworn to help him. He remembered too well. After all was said and done only two living things had remained and climbed from the rubble of the ancient graveyard. Him… and she. Had things been any different he thougth, only one of them would actualy have left that ruined place. The dragon graveyard, a valley scattered with the carcasses of her kind. A neutral ground they had believed. To negotiate peace. It had ended in fire. But not dragonfire he thougth and thats why she wouldnt leave… and he wouldnt allow it if she would try, despite what he migth want. She was the only one who had seen it… seen what he had seen and the only one that could pass it on to her
kind and who they would believe. Or they would be doomed. Again his hand formed a fist. The city would be doomed.
He looked up and found that she had been watching him, her had curoioulysy tilted to one side.
„What are you looking at?“
As hard as it was to admitt, the fate of Kalenchor hinged on her. He would have to rely on her. And that, Apelles thougth, should make him way more suspicious then it did. One false word and his city would be swept away in flames. What had she to lose in lying? The city would not stand before a true war with her kind. Not anymore at least.
