…Her eyes were like the sea.
If he'd ever seen it, though it was rumored to be green, shining with sunlight, far as one could see.
Atop him she rode, like he were a racing stallion over the hills. When she moaned he stroked her breast, kissed her hands, and wrapped her waist, running a hand over her firm smooth thigh muscles. There wasn't a better way to start the morning, and he wondered what kept him from getting to know her sooner.
He finished first, gasping as her inner thighs soaked.
Against his chest, she listened to his heartbeat. There was nothing more to it, they both knew. Servants of the death god, cursed to die, and no life could come from death.
Regardless, he wondered what she was thinking.
Before he uttered a word, she put a finger to his lips, as if she'd read his mind.
She shook her head, a thin smile.
He nodded, and they gathered their weapons and gear.
A cheery afternoon greet from the innkeeper, and they found Dany alone at the bar, hands stained with blood. She made a small wave, then went back to drowning herself with ale. She ordered them lunch, a meat stew with fresh baked bread, then they all went to the town foragemaster.
No longer a tiny stone hut, it was a forage hall, something fit for a king. Silk black curtains of the fireborne kingdom hung on the walls, torches were ablaze down a twenty meter granite carved wall, and ornaments of the smith's finest crafting hung for all to see. There were maces, axes, swords, tools of war's trade, and also necklaces, rings, crowns, and coins with the sigils of all the great houses.
"Ah!" The smith remarked, Mastery of Foraging Dunkan, happy to see him. "Almost didn't recognize ya' until I saw those wild eyes. Bane of the Graves himself, what can I offer ye' for…"
One look at his gear, and Al's, Dunkan frowned.
"That's no good. Unacceptable! Just cause I know ya', and you've clearly been on some journey, I'll repair all your armor and weapons free of charge. Should take not more than three days. Anything else and it'll cost ya'."
"That'll do," he said, looking around at the ironite wares on display on a fireborne curtained wall.
Dunkan smiled. "Much obliged from the Burning Lands, soldiers and adventurers can't seem to loot enough. Been good for business, I've been gettin' materials I couldn't hope to acquire in a lifetime in a few short years."
"Reinforce the armor and shield" he said, handing the old smith their looted ironite. "Should be enough leftover for you to keep for yourself."
"Marvelous!" Dunkan said, grinning wide. "I'll have it done in two days time!"
Two days passed, the trio drinking in the inn, whenever he and Al weren't riding each other from dusk to dawn.
Dany spoke little more of Nathan, just that the lad went mad upon sight of his old kingdom's army. And, of course Isaac Pyr had done a great deal to rile the lad.
"It true what they say?" Dany asked, whispering to him as Al fought to stay awake following a fourth ale.
He growled. "Saw the look on the poor lass' face. The bruises on her body…there was no mistaking it, and I know Isaac fucking Pyr to be a cruel wretch to anyone he thinks beneath him."
He looked to the innkeeper, who smiled bright even in the looming darkness of Draynsville.
"We'll make him answer for it," Dany promised, touching his hand. "Isaac's not been well loved by his siblings, or any other great house. He's responsible for the Burning Land's escalation."
As his brother cost many lives in the Graves, and Nathan's disownment.
How the lad could willingly go back to fight with those crooked cocknosed pig fuckers he couldn't imagine. He respected Nathan's loyalty to his countrymen nonetheless, and wondered what may have become of lands already plagued with warfare.
Upon returning to Dunkan, the old fart spoke of the 'War to End All Wars.'
"If I got a coin for every time I heard that," Dunkan mumbled, helping him strap on his plates, "I'd not hammer for least a hundred years."
"It's different this time," Dany muttered, glaring at the old smith. "There's more bloodshed than any time in decades past."
"What makes you so certain?" He asked, shoving on his full helm.
She touched her scabbard. "A Phoenix Balde told me. You know him, fast as thunder with red hair."
"Paracles," he muttered. "Nay, never heard of him."
Al gave him a nosey look, giving him a taunting jab and he cursed her away.
"Be seein' ya then," Dunkan said as they left the forage hall. "Be careful out there."
What he would've paid to never be reminded of Paracles the gallant fearless mercenary with fiery hair.
As if there was nothing he couldn't do the pretty little sword dancer could. So he needed his help to defeat Razelael, it mattered little, it was an angel of the death god himself. Then there was Alrieon, Hardok, the four armed vampyre knight, and of course the First Sword.
Gargoyles were easy enough, he slew them on his own.
The First Sword, he promised, was going to be his.
"What's bothering you?" Al asked, wrapping his arm.
He gave her a light shove. "Nothing."
She frowned, yanking him back. "You'll tell me, or I'll not do that thing you like when I spin…"
She looked at Dany, who pretended not to hear their conversation.
"…Are you really going to put up a wall like that, after all we've been through?"
He ruffled his eyebrows. "I'm putting up anything. Nothing's bothering me."
"And vampyre's sip on chicken blood," Dany muttered, eyeing him. "You want a good hunt. Something to claim on your own."
Even hungover from days worth of drinking, there was battle-lust in her.
"Aye, I do," he admitted.
Dany nodded. "You'll have it. Whether we can convince Nathan to join us or not, we'll make for Eldreth at once."
"Think it'll be that hard to convince him," he asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
"He's…," Dany stopped, as they reached the stable.
She flipped the stable boy a coin.
While they waited for three of the fastest horses available, she spoke of Lady Qurrath's curse, the mark left on Nathan. No longer a man, the lad was a rejuvenator, with fangs, a thirst for blood, and much stronger than any ordinary vampyre.
"He doesn't fight with the fireborne army, but he doesn't feed on them," Dany explained, the stable boy arriving with the horses. "Nothing matters more to him than seeing Creachllacia victorious, but, his blood thirst comes first. The First Sword calls to him, as does the Dark Lord's Paladin."
He balled his hands into a fist.
What more could've been done to the lad?
For all their merits, fighting through cursed lands, ghosts, demons, battlefields, and gods knew what else, he nor Nathan had gained anything. They'd been losing at every turn, one step forward, several steps back, and now the better of the two wasn't human anymore either.
"Was there nothing to be done for him?" Al asked as they climbed atop their horses. "Larosa was said to be as good a healer as the Archive master."
"Larosa…hasn't had the chance to see him," Dany sighed.
"What do you mean?" He barked. "Did you not think to take her to him, by force if need be? You can't mean to tell me-."
Al grasped his arm.
He calmed himself, tears forming in Dany's eyes. He'd nearly forgotten she was just a lass herself, even with all her strength, and he'd been the one foolish enough to die in the first place.
"I did everything I could," Dany said, wiping her eyes. "I went back, right after dying in the Burning Lands. I made the journey back on foot, found Nathan, and tried to talk to him but he wouldn't listen. I tried for over a year, but it made no difference. When I made for the capital, Larosa was so frightened by the rumors of what he became she…she said she'd rather rot in the Archives forever than see him again."
Al rubbed her own eyes, and the old emptiness took his stomach.
"Alright," he decided, tugging his horses' reins, "we make for the capital first."
"Are you sure?" Al said, a curious look on her face. "This what you really want?"
"Aye, it is," he muttered. "You ought to know me by now, shouldn't you?"
Al kept a stern eye on him, and Dany was still sulking.
He promised the lass they'd make it right, more so to himself in truth.
He owed it to the lad, for everything he'd been apart of. Not just him, but the Pyrs as well, and he prayed to the death god there'd be at least one of them within the capital's walls.