[PA] Abrendese Militia - The Birth of a Beautiful Alliance

Magnus sighed as he settled into the movement of the get together. He'd done the usual amount of networking with his father, the same dance he'd learned the footwork too many years ago in his childhood. 

 

Talk to a royal here, bow to a dignitary there, remember every important person's face and memorize their favoruite hobbies on top of that just in case their aid would be needed in the future. Memorize their flaws should we be able to conquer them instead. 

 

What Magnus seemed to hate, however, was the fading pointlessness of it all. 

 

Maintaining social standing would only get them so far and the power they held over the town and its surrounding acres only held so much. His father never wanted to expand. 

 

To prosper. 

 

Only survive, comfortably, for the rest of their future times. It made Magnus sick at the thought. 

 

Life wasn't exactly exciting as it was, and anything much he managed to get his claws into never interested him for more than a few months before it became boring. A routine rather than a hobby. Something to keep his parents off of his back, other than something he genuinely enjoyed. 

 

The one thing he wanted to do but was forbidden by his father. Dragon breeding. His pride and joy, Glassworm, had proven himself worthy of a mate but to his knowledge, hadn't yet been deemed worthy by another. Just imagining what would come from his strange genes was enough to send his sharp mind reeling with curiosity. 

 

The green transparent creature was currently curled around one of his legs, munching away on some snack or another he'd managed to pull from the table, fighting with it between his two heads, bone jaws and teeth clicking together as they tugged a piece of  meat into shreds. 

 

Magnus watched them with little interest. Currently shut off from the world for a small moment of peace before he had to keep up appearances again and make another small circuit around the room, its chandeliers sparkling almost as much as the crystal wine flutes that was passed around from butler's silver tray to the waiting hand of the other dignitaries. 

 

Rarely a human face showed in these soirees, being mainly T'tere or Bestia in nature, so one small group had caught his attention earlier. His father had warned him off interacting though and he'd just ended up back here in the darkened corner, closer to the night sky and the balconies then the party itself. 

 

Magnus always tended to prefer it back here though. Amoung the shadows, over the angles and sharp claws of prosperity and merth. He found no peace there. No joy. 

 

He bent on his chair slightly and leaned forwards. Giving Glass a small pat on one of his boney heads. Absentminded, as he stared at the others with a calculating gaze. Wondering what direction he should move into next, when he was ready.

 

~**~

 

The carriage ride to the township had already placed Alexander in a foul mood. While he knew wherever he had been placed, he would have experienced some bitterness from his father's other children, the carriage placements had ensured he would face the worst of their jealousy. At least, if he had been settled with one of his younger half-sisters, they would have sat in tense silence. Instead, his father, in his apparent wisdom, had placed him and his eldest son together. 

 

Any possible conversation between him and his father was cut short by his elder half-brother. All he could think was how this buffoon was going to handle the lordship once it was handed to him. Likely his wife will handle everything. That was their only hope.

 

Safe to say though, Alexander was not in the best of moods to handle networking. His half-brother had frayed his nerves with his nonsense. Still, he did a breathing exercise, clenching and unclenching his fists behind his back until the worst had been settled. He schooled his face into calmness before entering the ball room.

 

His father had informed them that they would likely be the only humans. And he was correct as Alexander swept his gaze through the room for a quick scan. He allowed himself to be smug for a moment to know his half-siblings would be uncomfortable. 

 

The moment his father allowed them to do the social dance, Alexander separated himself from his half-siblings' little circle. It was easy to find his step - whether human or Bestia or T'tere, they all had egos that wanted stroked. They felt more comfortable if he offered some form of help before letting him in their conversations. 

 

Would you like me to pour you some champagne? Light your cigar, sir? A dance, madam? Oh yes, I have heard of that author. A shame how close the rebellion has gotten.

 

It was like following a script. One he had mastered at a young age when he first met his father. Say what they wanted to hear.

 

~**~

 

Glassworm finished his snack, and unbeknownst to his owner, had crawled out from his leg to go searching for more food. 

 

He was one of the only dragons in the whole ballroom, and out of those few that were there, he was definitely the most curious looking. 

 

Where light feathers and handsome snouts and scales were common, there sat this alien looking horror that some of the guests actively avoided. Like they feared his very presence - or possibly, the family he was attached to. 

 

Magnus had long since given up trying to work it out and Glass didn't care. He just wanted food, even as the last traces of a large chicken bone was visibly making its way down his throat and into his shadowy stomach, the beat of his heart thrumming away under murky, transparent scales. You could see every bone in his body, and yet he moved like a slender, duel headed shadow  amoung patron's feet and table legs. 

 

When he passed Alexander, hunting for what looked to be a tiny mouse he'd flushed out from under the woman he was talking too's wide dress hem, a chill followed him as Grim slipped in and out of inky shadows, stalking the animal. 

 

Once it was within biting distance, he launched himself at the creature and from the bend in his skeleton and the jerking of his muscles, it was clear he'd won the fight. The noise of the dying mouse drowned out under classical symphony.

 

~**~

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander had noticed the little skeleton dragon slinking through the ballroom. It was one of the more unique dragons he had seen, being completely transparent, their bones on display. The other dragons resembled closer to real-life animals - his own dear Catherine having been mistaken for a deer. All pleasant, nothing that would risk disturbing their company.

 

As he pretended to be interested in the mundane conversation, he was running through who the little dragon must belong to. He immediately crossed the idea out of them being a stray - none of the patrons had screamed in panic at the ghoulish thing. It could not be someone from low standing, there were rules on what kind of dragons were socially acceptable. Even Catherine, who fit with the elegance that was asked, was still considered too tall to be allowed inside the ballroom. And he had no standing to ignore the rules. 

 

Clearly the dragon was owned by someone of high standing. It was the only reason why they were allowed inside the ballroom and being politely ignored. 

 

Alexander saw that his sentiment stood true when a little mouse suddenly skittered past his boot, out from the woman. Her smile only twitched a moment before it was smoothed to normal, pretending that a vermin had not been under her. He pointedly acted like he didn't see it either even as the chill crept past him.

 

He was close enough to hear the dying squeals and then snapping of bones. 

 

Maybe the dragon was used for vermin - but even those dragons would be treated with disdain for bringing their mess too close. It was certainly someone of high standing who was bonded with the little beast.

 

Over the woman's shoulder, Alexander's gaze drifted to where the little dragon had come from.

 

~**~

 

Alexander didn't have to wait very long to find out exactly which noble the eerie creature belonged to as, once finished, Glassworm slithered back from shadow to shadow like an ink blot rolling from creases in a parchment, until he once again curled around his master's talons. Cat like in its- theirs?- affection. 

 

Magnus Grimshaw; A young, broody looking young T'tere who had long been known as the next in line to inherit the title of Duke in the Grimshaw line. One of the very families that was helping to run this event.

 

He lived under his heritage's grandiose shadow, it seemed, from his blank eyes and flawlessly groomed beak and feathers, talons almost sharper than his tailoring. Even without knowing who he was though, the similarities to Duke Bartholomew Grimshaw were all too clear.

 

All the Grimshaw line had unique features that set them apart from other avians, and for them, it was their luscious curled tail feathers, whisker-like brows similar to a heron's, and a viciously curved beak. Bartholomew's green feathers were more of a muted emerald than his son's, as was his mother's, Duchess Emeline, whom was only a shade or two darker then her husband. However, while her husband's accented colour was a vibrant pink, Duchess Emeline's underwings were an equally vibrant violet. 

 

Magnus held both these colours, in a way. His feathers fading from a pink to a darkish fuchsia, complimenting his muted emerald feathers. 

 

He was handsome - for a T'tere. But from the fact he was in the corner and no other dignitary had deemed fit to invade his space even the slightest amount, it was easy to assume he held an air that made people... uneasy to approach him first. 

 

Feeling his pet by his feet again, he reached down and curled his prehensile feathers around his little body, lifting the dragon delicately up off of the floor like one would a treasured possession. 

 

He mumbled something to its twin skulls and they bobbed and seemed to almost grin. Whatever Magnus had said, it had clearly amused the dragon.

 

~**~

 

Seeing the little creature slither back to his owner, Alexander's eyes gleamed with interest as he was given his answer. He quickly recognized the noble man - while the Grimshaw family may not be as well known as some of the higher standing Abrendese families for their lack of Militia connection, they still held power. A power his father had hoped would be put to proper use. 

 

The Grimshaws seemed content with their little township considering they had not once shown support towards the Militia. Ignoring that the Abrendese had helped their initial rise in power - Alexander found it fitting for the immigrant family. Sit on the fence, let both sides wonder when you will make your move. Patience could be a reward in itself but the war was brewing with intensity and soon the Militia will not tolerate neutrality. His father hoped to sway them. Alexander doubted it from what he heard of Duke Bartholomew.

 

Now the youth though, they always had an ache for change and growth. 

 

Alexander and his half-siblings were not permitted to speak to the Grimshaw children - especially not the heir. They were to let their father speak and that was it. Do not upset the Duke and Duchess with their ideas. Understandable to some but Alexander saw it as a wasted opportunity. Duke Bartholomew would never change his mind, that was apparent. 

 

If his father wanted change, Magnus was the key.

 

Politely, Alexander found an excuse to exit the conversation he had been having with the noble woman. He bowed to her, giving a kiss to her hand, before departing. A servant with cigars on their tray passed by him, close enough for him to grab one. He thought he needed a smoke after all. And the balcony welcomed him as he rested his elbows on the railing.

 

~**~

 

Magnus tilted his head up from his petting of his little transparent familiar and paused. 

 

Someone joined him on the balcony of this little get together? That rarely ever happened. 

 

He pushed his glasses up his beak and paused to truly take in the visitor. Only for his steely blue eyes to alight in interest once he'd recognised his uniform. 

 

His feathered crest lifting just slightly, he sat up in his seat and gave Glass a warning look to stay seated. The dragon grumpily obeyed and regurgitated a large bone to start chewing on again, making Magnus let out a tut of disgust as he shook his head and concentrated on more important things. 

 

"A lovely night for a ball, don't you think?" he commented, voice a crisp edged thing with a smooth body - not exactly similar to a song bird, but didn't offend the ears either. Comparable to a rich red wine. Smooth, sweet and with a hidden bite. 

 

Magnus, unlike Alexander, had no such rule not to talk to them. Just a high discouragement.

 

~**~

 

Alexander was an imposing figure, standing at 6'5", even more in his uniform. His uniform was standard of that to most noble Abrendese families, minus the notable lack of medals that would adorn it. His family's coat of arms proudly adorned itself on his left breast, the only thing reminiscent of a medal. His skin was olive-toned and if in the sun, he would darken considerably. His chestnut hair had been neatly slicked back and his mustache had been groomed. The servant girl had giggled when he asked if she planned to put bows in it. 

 

His dark amber eyes flicked towards Magnus when he spoke up. Admittedly, he was surprised the man had decided to talk to him so quickly. The T'tere seemed to prefer to brood in his selected area than converse with the other nobles. It was a pleasant surprise though. 

 

By his voice, he took note of the hiding threat. If his father, or by the Gods, his siblings spotted them, Alexander knew Hell would break loose once home. But Magnus was from a more noble family, a son of a duke while he was a bastard son of an earl. Who was he to ignore polite conversation of the heir?

 

"Very," Alexander agreed. His voice was similar to that of the cigars he had taken an enjoyment of. It was deep and rich with a slight accent from his early raising with his mother. Despite his step-mother's attempts, the accent had never been beaten out of him. It left what most Abrendese would call an exotic charm to him. "Sadly, the conversations are quite dull."

 

~**~

 

"I agree with that sentiment. There is a reason I prefer the balcony, even with the bite in the air,"  he hummed back. 

 

Glass shuffled around in his wings, both heads turning towards Alexander as they continued to talk.  His hollow eyes held the glimmer of a pupil in their sunken depths, bone gleaming in a firelight. 

 

"That, and I find most especially dull company seem to not appreciate my friend here," Magnus added.

 

~**~

 

Alexander gave a nod at Magnus' words, surveying the land before them that the balcony gave quite a view of. From where they were standing, he could see the stables that Catherine had been placed in. He wished she did not need to be locked up in a pen but she had assured him she was fine. When checking through their bond, he was pleased to see that she was not distressed. She had made do with the pen she had been placed in and while the company was neither desirable, it was not unpleasant either.

 

Satisfied with Catherine, Alexander's gaze looked to the strange little dragon he had seen earlier. The one that had led him to the young Grimshaw heir. Up close, the dragon was more fascinating, being able to see all of its skeleton. Alexander had to wonder how the dragon would feel if touched. It looked solid with how Magnus held him but dark dragons could manifest their shapes.

 

"A shame," Alexander commented, giving a new nod to Glassworm. "He is quite a unique specimen. And it is a rarity to see a Dark dragon at these events. It is refreshing to see."

 

~**~

 

Magnus' reaction was like Alex had flicked on a bulb somewhere deep in the T'tere's eyes. 

 

Interest and passion slowly crept like a fog rolling in from a lakeshore and he offered a wing to allow Glassworm to climb onto the balcony.

 

He did so, sensing his master's interest, and gaining an interest in Alexander also as a result. Letting a soundless noise pass through his bare boned maw, he crept closer to him, tail and wings out for balance. 

 

He didn't appear to have toes on closer inspection. Purely little nubs that, maybe, at one point could've been hooves. Altogether Glass gave off an air that he had been born prematurely, despite being perfectly healthy and natural as he was meant to be. The dead risen. 

 

"This is my dear familiar. His name is Glassworm - rather apt, I thought, sharing qualities with both the frog he shares traits with, along with the worm like way he crawls. He rather likes bones as well. You may touch him, if he allows it. He's my personal little curiosity, much to my fathers chagrin,"

 

Then he smirked. 

 

"He may have taken many things from me in my youth, but this little dragon seems to be his wolfsbane. Not many, if any, Orthellow's have made bonds with dragons, so I am quite the black sheep amoung the crows; Excuse the pun," he snorted. 

 

"I find them truly fascinating... creatures of pure magic. He looks like he should be delicate as spun sugar, but I have witnessed him take on - and win - many a fight with larger dragons, prey and predators alike,"

 

Dragons seemed to have been the correct choice of topic.

 

~**~

Alexander listened intently while he examined the little Dark dragon. Glassworm was indeed a fitting name for the dragon. He had seen him slither around the ballroom like a shadow, even more fitting for his magical nature. Alexander always found the magic that dragons contained interesting. As he had seen with Catherine, their elements could even affect their physical traits. The beautiful star pearl that often hovered in the delicate grasp of her antlers could be used to reflect her light magic.

 

Alexander did not know much about Dark dragons so his knowledge on their magic was limited. He had to wonder though what could affect Glassworm. Or what he could use to affect others.

 

He had to hide his smirk at Magnus mentioning he was the only one of his family to have a dragon. Even more reason for why he had to talk with him. His own family had limitations with dragons. His father had a few but out of his siblings, he had been the first to form a bond. His eldest brother did not have the luck of obtaining a dragon.

 

"You spoke of him winning fights. How far along is he in his magic training?" Alexander asked once a comfortable time has passed since Magnus last spoke. He looked over at Glassworm's twin heads, the skulls not wrapped in the same ghostly skin as the rest of his body. "I admit, I have not much knowledge of Dark dragons. This is sadly the first one I have met."

 

~**~

 

"Not very far - father doesn't allow much 'training' as such, but, that doesn't stop me from 'practicing' with him. Wording is key, you see. He has a lot less issue with me sending him into fights, because he hopes he will naturally perish via being torn to shreds," he calmly explained. No emotion behind his words. 

 

"But you see with a dark dragon... they are difficult to hurt permanently; Observe."

 

With a careful, sharp motion, he plucked a feather from his own wing, and showed the sharp tip to Alexander. Before he viciously stabbed the implement into Glassworm, not giving them much time to react. 

 

Of course, the movement had been telegraphed to the dragon without much time to spare, knowing their rider like the back of their partner's skull by now. So when the end 'pierced' their flesh, it sank harmlessly through as their body turned into a fine, dark mist, before solidifying once more as it was removed. 

 

One of their heads squinted at Magnus, as much as a skull can squint, before he let a warble tumble from his throat. Unphased. 

 

"You see? They are able to shapeshift. But that is not their only secret. I have heard tale, that Dark dragons are also capable of raising the dead. Isn't that wonderful?"

 

~**~

 

Alexander's eyes lit up with interest as Magnus explained the elements of Dark magic. It was fascinating to see that the little dragon was able to turn itself into mist to avoid damage. No wonder the dragon had won fights, even with the lack of proper magic training. The rest of the elements were solid and could not transform themselves. Earth dragons had the ability to build themselves armor and Metal dragons were built fully for defense. This little Dark dragon though could avoid any potential damage. Alexander suddenly itched to see how Catherine could deal with Glassworm - she had been bettering her Light magic and was now starting on Earth. At best though, they would get along. Or tolerate. Maybe their magic could work well together.

 

"How fascinating," Alexander agreed in an awed whisper. Raising the dead? The Militia could use that. What were their limits? How long could they raise the dead? Did they have control of them? There were so many questions Alexander wished to ask. He would have to dig through the libraries.

 

Carefully, remembering Magnus' words about being allowed to touch the little dragon, if allowed, he traced a finger over one of the bones that emerged out from its ghostly form. It reminded him of the spines on Catherine's back. Were they vulnerable even in his mist form?

 

"Can he change his whole form?" Alexander asked with a nod towards the more 'solid' shapes of Glassworm - his skeleton.

 

~**~

 

"Yes - but as he is normally is merely transparent. The protrusions on his back and tail are where his spines and spikes would be, were he a normal dragon. Though, the more I learn about them, the less I understand what a 'normal' dragon might look like. None might look the same as another, even if they are direct relatives. Maybe share a few similar traits, but... nothing like animals who do not possess a compass of their own do, like cats and dogs and such..."

 

Glass seemed somewhat unsure about the fact they were being touched. But after a moment of deliberation, decided to allow it. Arching a little to show off. 

 

"Back to Glassworm, however. Were his skin opaque like our own, I believe he would have smooth green scales, and his skulls and any protruding bones would remain. Otherwise, I'm not sure what he might look like. I have yet to get any tests done for his genetic heritage, so what markings he might've had allude me. Do you have a dragon?" he asked. 

 

Curious, just the same, of others who might also share a bond. He'd never met another person who seemed to care before Alexander.

 

~**~

 

Alexander nodded along to Magnus' words. He gave a few more touches to the protruding spikes before laying his hand back on the rail. It was fortunate that Glassworm had allowed him to touch him so and he smiled as the little dragon started to show himself off. If it were not for his... unusual appearance, he would be a good pageant dragon. He doubted Magnus would have much interest in those shows though.

 

"I was going to ask if you knew his lineage," Alexander gave a soft laugh when Magnus talked about testing Glassworm. The parents often showed some hints of what kind of markings a dragon might have. At his question though, Alexander straightened up a bit. He responded with pride in his voice, "I do. I hatched her when I was still a lad and we have grown together. My dear Catherine was unfortunately placed in the stables as she is too tall for these types of gatherings."

 

As Alexander explained, he  nodded to where the stables sat. Once more, he rechecked his bond. Catherine was still comfortable but was perking up at the pride that came off him. 

 

"She is a Light-Earth dragon. I have mainly practiced Light magic with her, it seems to be her dominant element. We have started on Earth recently," Alexander continued to explain. "I have theorized that with her Star Pearl, she is using it to manifest and strengthen her powers. At least with Light as it is about projections."

 

~**~

 

Magnus turned his beak towards the stables with a look of deep consideration on his face. 

 

Pushing up his spectacles, he half looked back to the party, and wondered, briefly, how much trouble he'd get into later if he skipped the pleasantries he'd had left to make and went to see this new dragon. 

 

It was a very tempting thought. 

 

At the mention of star pearls though, he turned back to their conversation. 

 

"Star pearls... I admit most of my own research has been almost exclusively focused on Dark dragons, because of Glass. What is a Star Pearl?"

 

~**~

 

"A Star Pearl is a physical manifestation of light, and what I hypothesize, magic. It is quite rare from what I've gathered and most likely to be found amongst Light dragons. Often this Star Pearl takes on a form of an orb or a lantern but occasionally takes on more complicated forms. Orbs seem to be the most common," Alexander explained. 

 

His own gaze soon returned to the party. He knew he should also finish making pleasantries. Yet, he knew he wouldn't find another interesting companion as he had in the Grimshaw heir. And if his father wanted him to climb social ladders, what better than the son of a Duke?

 

"I would be happy to give you a demonstration," Alexander finally said, nodding back towards the stables. "Catherine may also be interested in meeting your dear Glassworm."

 

~**~

 

Magnus seemed to ponder it for a while, before with a little snort, he stood. 

 

"Yes. I think I would enjoy that," he agreed. "Glass - come."

 

With the order, both of Glass's heads bobbed up and observed the two, before he seamlessly slid into Magnus' imposing shadow. 

 

He wasn't very tall - five feet at the best. But he cast a shadow like a true royal.

 

"After you," he politely offered, extending one of his long wings towards the back of the ballroom.

 

~**~

 

Alexander watched in curiosity as Glassworm seemed to disappear into Magnus' shadow. He had observed this a bit when he first saw him at the ball, but it was only in passing. It was different to see it so close. A blink and you miss it. 

 

Alexander gave a nod and led Magnus to the back entrance. Politely, he held the door open for the heir before taking the lead once more. As he held the door though, he quickly scanned the room to spot his father's children. Fortunately, they seemed to be stuck making pleasantries to notice him disappearing from the crowd. 

 

The night air was cool and crisp, a relief from the suffocating heat of the ballroom and its lights. The moon hung high in the sky, glowing down at them. Lamps led them down the path towards the stables. Reaching through his bond, he informed Catherine of their arrival. Through the bond, he could envision her carefully standing up. As he opened the doors to the stable, the bond's eye flickered shut. 

 

In the darkness, Catherine blended in perfectly. The only light was her Star Pearl, which glowed faintly. It illuminated her arching antlers that presented it like an offering. The orb fluttered in curiosity at the appearance of another person. With an offering of Alexander's hand, the orb flew close before it hovered over his palm. It radiated a soft warmth. Slowly, Catherine emerged from the darkness, trailing after her Star Pearl.

 

She was midnight black and at first glance, seemed to look like an ordinary deer. As her tail trailed behind her, her notable spikes became apparent, glinting from the light. Down her spine were similar curved spikes, a threat to any predator. Even her height was taller than a deer, being more similar to the height of a horse.

 

~**~

 

Magnus followed with similar caution to Alexander's. He was quite, quite sure that if he was caught wandering off with one of the Militia's visiting officials... But another part of him truly didn't care.

 

Whatever punishment might follow, the opportunity to witness something new was too tempting. Magnus' thirst for knowledge, especially dragon knowledge, was deep and endless. It was the same with most foreign things. If he came across something he didn't understand, his curiosity - and his library studying habits - would bloom once more from their stasis. His father hated this fact. Hated the fact that he never showed as much interest in the things the Duke thought were important. But he passed his lessons with flying colours, his intelligence carrying him much further than expected from topics he clearly found boring, and so his father could only grumble. 

 

Magnus found interest in all the ways he could manipulate to his advantage... not so much the inner workings of the family coffers. That's what accountants were for. 

 

As such, he walked beside his current peak of interest all the way to the stables, settling into a comfortable silence as he did. He walked with a confident air, not once worrying about possibly getting kidnapped or harmed while alone without his body guards. It spoke of the confidence he had in his lapdog to protect him.

 

The moment his eyes landed on the star pearl though - that was the first moment that truly gave him pause. At first he assumed it was a lantern left by the stable hands as they darted between stalls, caring for dignitaries horses. But seeing it float towards them out of the darkness made his crest flex and raise to attention, his blue eyes glittering with focus. He almost missed Cathrine materialize out of the darkness herself, but the movement finally won his attention.

 

"My, my..." he breathed, approaching one small step at a time to half circle her, giving her a wide, respectful birth as he took in every detail. Feathers still a little fluffed. 

 

"This specimen is... I do not have the words. Are you quite sure she is not also a Dark dragon?" he asked. "How is she black as pitch, while also being a Light dragon...? Fascinating."

 

~**~

 

Catherine stood completely still as Magnus walked around her, observing every detail of her. Her eyes, dark like the rest of her, tracked his movements while her head remained raised. The star pearl that rested in Alexander's palm pulsed with light before calming with a touch of fingers from her rider. 

 

"The only Dark in her lineage comes from a great grandparent," Alexander replied, pride undoubtable in his voice. "Her coloration stems from, for a lack of better words, a mutation. Melanism, a ripe overproduction of melanin that wipes away all the remaining color. She inherited it from her sire if I am not mistaken. The trait should be shared by a few of her clutchmatches and, I hope, in her own future clutches."

 

Alexander grinned as he spoke while Catherine merely stared at him. The topic of breeding has become a more and more common one in conversations. Catherine held no beliefs on it, already knowing it was inevitable. Nevertheless, he knew she would be an excellent mother. The Earth in her guaranteed it. 

 

With Magnus still circling Catherine, and verifying that she would not mind, Alexander spoke up. "You may touch her, if you would like. She will not mind."

 

~**~

 

His brows raised at the explanation given. He easily reached forwards to gently brush his fingerlike flight feathers over the shape of her back. Though he seemed most fascinated by her antlers.

 

He did have the sense to not touch her star pearl though. It looked so precious, that he seemed to instinctually know better.

 

"So melanism exists within dragonkind as well..." he thought aloud. "She is like a solar body at the end of its lifespan. Voidessent, yet emit an aura of light. Beautiful," he nodded. "You are very lucky, Alexander."

 

The fact he knew his name without being told seemed to be purely from his training to know who was actually at the party. Even if they never bothered with introductions, he was under no illusions of the fact Alexander wouldn't definitely know who he was for the same reasons.

 

"Are dragons like this common within the Militia, or just in your family?"

 

~**~

 

The question felt like a perfectly laid trap. A snake curling up, readying to strike. 

 

It was the opportunity that Alexander had wanted; the opportunity he had been actively warned against and he was certain was the same for the future Duke. The Grimshaws do not participate in Militia activity, they were too proud for such things. They would much rather stay in their little kingdom and stay neutral, pretend like the war was not going to eventually land at their doorsteps.

 

Except the war was already here. Both Militia and rebels alike clawing for the taking and it was stupidity to not recognize what the rebels would do to the T'tere emigrant family. Betrayers of their own kind they would say. 

 

Alexander knew Magnus was not a fool. He could see the same stalking ambition, burning to be unleashed properly. The hunger for knowledge that would never be sated. The desire for power that his family has clearly stifled. Clipping their own heir's wings. 

 

Catherine's star pearl pulsed with energy again, subtly feeding off Alexander's own through their bond. He laid his palm flat and allowed for Catherine to drift her star pearl back safely between her antlers. Her antlers shone darkly for Magnus.

 

"The Militia," Alexander answered honestly. It was the militia that granted his family their high luxuries. The militia had been his opportunity for social climbing, looking past his bastardhood and half-bloodedness. Instead he simply said, "The Militia have a unique interest in dragons and their magic. They breed only the best."

 

~**~

 

Magnus' eyes glittered in the half-light of the stable, his mask slipping just the slightest. A sliver of pure, voracious curiosity. 

 

The shadow cast from Cathrine's Star Pearl warped and bent in ways it shouldn't - and from it crawled the skeletal dragon from before, summoned like a whelp to sit by his master's feet. Feeding off of the uncharacteristic stirring in the lordling's energy. Magnus could count the amount of things he genuinely cared about on one taloned foot - and dragons, let alone the sheer unknown of the Militia's reach... 

 

His father was too busy with his scrolls and his political balancing of the unrest in their newfound home country to want to look at the big picture. He reminded Magnus of a dying tree, so firmly rooted to the ground it sat on, uncaring for the disease it spread up into his crumbling bows. His mother was barely a leaf dangling from his cold branches, following the analogy. No more power than one over her husband. 

 

His siblings would not inherit this 'forest', nor this stretch of land; And Magnus was going to be smart enough not to root himself down into a rising tide of death, just to keep up traditions he'd never cared much for. He might have, once. A very long time ago. Before his mind and drive and thought process had been completely broken, and remoulded into what his father saw fit for it to be. 

 

He'd failed however the very moment he'd allowed Glassworm's egg on his property - but most importantly... he'd failed for the final time by inviting the general and his family here. 

 

A silent, unspoken pact sat heavy in the air as Glass let out a small, whispery trill and weaved between Cathrine's front hooves in a figure of eight, stretching in a way he certainly shouldn't have been capable of. Tail tip to his angular, bony jaws and his eerie faelight eyes staring imploringly up at the two young men. 

 

"Fascinating..." Magnus murmured, drawing out his syllables into the crisp night air as he met Alexander's gaze fully.