The Mistress

    He watched from the shadows as the Dragoon prince approached the cottage, having managed to get back in time to do so. By now, Mandeleth would have fallen and the King and Queen would be dead. Darksolace would most likely be in search of the Dragoon prince to put an end to him, as well.
    This, however, was a part of the plan that eluded him. Why did the mistress want to have Lance think she was someone else? What was it that she would offer him?
    Lance knocked on the door bashfully, his heart was racing and his gaze could not focus on anything but his feet. It had taken him a week to work up the nerve to actually face her.
    He had seen her and had believed almost fully that it was Makayla. The spitting image of her, even. The dark, wavy hair. The purple color of her eyes. Even her wings. The only thing that bothered Lance was the fact that he had not seen Cynder anywhere.
    The baby red dragon was a gift from Lance to Makayla, and she would not have left the small creature so easily. Besides, it would not have just gone off on its own. Cynder saw Makayla as her mother, so she wouldn't have just left. Nevertheless, it would be a question he would have to ask when he had the free moment.
    He heard a snort over his shoulder and he glanced back, putting his hands up. Pretty much telling Fletch to calm down. The door swung open and a woman stood there a large stick in hand, almost as if she were going to beat him with it.
    Lance turned around just in time to see the stick and stepped back. “Whoa! I'm sorry its so--”
    “Lance?", the woman interrupted. The darkess had somewhat concealed him and he had not realized it before. It might have been somewhat hard for her to recognize him.    
    She put the stick down almost as soon as she had and jumped into his arms. “ What the hell are you doing here!?” she murmured into his chest, holding him tight.
    He was a bit shocked at first, and Fletch didn't say anything. It was somewhat odd.  He felt that the dragon would be almost as excited to see her as he had been. But the feeling of her body pressed against him made him calm, and he let his guard down. Lance slowly wrapped his arms around her and almost melted in her arms.
    Allyssia had been planning this from the start. She was Makayla's sister and knew that she had a striking resemblance to her. She would, however, only get one shot at this and the night was in her favor.
    She would lay with him and perhaps have him plant his seed.  A son that could take the Dragoon throne one day. A son of both the higher beings in the lands of Greystone-- The Draconians and the Dragoons. A son that would devistate her sister when she heard word of it. So far, it was going well. She couldn't help but smile. Cold tears ran down her face, as if she were putting on a show for him. She leaned back and engulfed him in a kiss, pouring passion into it. Passion from her intent to make her sister suffer. Passion that was all that she knew.
    Something felt off. Lance couldn't help but think that there was something wrong with her, and he broke from the kiss.
    “ What's wrong? What happened? Why did you leave?,” he fumbled, the questions coming too fast to wait for a response to each. He had the need to ask so much more from her, but those were the ones that weighed on him the most.
    Allyssia sighed, breathing deeply. Her arms let him loose, and she pulled away and turned from him.
    “ Your people hate me,” she muttered, almost utterly under her breath. “ They would denounce you as King if you continued to stay with me. I know this.”
    Allyssia was trying to play on his heart, but she couldn't have the same emotions as Makayla, or the same feelings. So, she had turned away to conceal what she wasn't feeling.
    Lance, however, noticed that the weather had not changed though her demeaner did. The sadness that seemed to well up in her voice would have normally brought a little thunder and, atleast, a bit of cloud coverage.
    She could feel his interest slipping as if she knew that he was starting to doubt her. She turned around again, putting herself back in his arms. She leaned up and kissed him again, making him see the tears on her cheeks. Lance melted into the kiss for a moment but, again, for some reason felt wrong again. This time he pushed away, tears in his eyes.
    “ Wh--who are you?,” he muttered, leaning against the door almost as if he were broken. He reached up and clenched his chest.
    Her eyes widened as she moved over to him. “ I'm-- I'm SO sorry, Lance. I--, “ she was started to weep. It was more convincing this time “ I couldn't help myself. I heard what my sister had and wanted it so bad. I've always watched and hoped that some day I could bring myself out to her but--, “ she was kneeling infront of him now, her purple eyes meeting his. “ But watching, I found myself falling for you. Just like my sister had. I--,“ she choked on her words. “ I couldn't believe it when she up and left like that!” 
    Allyssia was motionless, almost as if she had expected an answer from him. He could offer none, and regained his composure as he forced himself to his feet. His face hardened as he looked down at her.
    “ So, where has she gone now?” It was as if he had completely changed. As if he had returned to his mission and that she was only a stepping stone. One in which he would use along his path. The tears were still swimming in his eyes, but his expression and face were completely different.
    “ Sh--she--,” Allyssia couldn't help but studder a little bit as she tried to respond. Her expression changed from concern to almost fear, but she could change gears like that. Her emotions did not control her. “She just disappeared. I-- I used to be able to feel her,” she said quietly, as if she were giving up. “ But I stopped feeling anything.”
    That was true, partly. She could feel the storm inside Makayla. She could feel the weather changing unnaturally and had been able to use that to follow her. But, lately that all had stopped.
    Lance put his palm to his face and stepped past her. “ So is there a chance you could pick up her trail again?”
    She didn't want to lie to him, but a question like this was easy to work around. “ I suppose I would if we were closer together.”
    Allyssia was being honest, to some extent. She could only feel the change in the weather that Makayla's power had brought on, and the closer the two of them were the more intense the difference in how she felt was.
    His eyes widened as he thought for a moment. He felt he could probably use her in order to find Makayla and perhaps convince his love to come back to Arbearl with him. No more trials. No more hazing. If his people did not approve of them then they would have to just banish him and send them both off. It's not that simple, the thought edged into his mind as he grunted. He moved past Allyssia to the door yet again.
    “ Wa--wait!“, she forced herself to her feet “ Don't go!”, her face flush and full of tears. You could feel the moisture in the room begin to gather and work itself toward her. Almost as if it were a smaller version of Makayla's storms.
    Lance couldn't help but stop and look back, seeing the moisture materialize as clouds in the room. It was like it had reacted to her tears. Like a defense mechanism, the same as Makayla's.
    “ Do you wish to help me find your sister?” he bluntly asked her. His face cold and emotionless toward her.
    He gritted his teeth, and looked away. He still realized that she was nearly the spitting image of Makayla. And that she was wearing a night gown. He had all but forgotten that he had come here in the middle of the night.
    She was a little slow with her answer, looking away for a moment. As he looked away from her, she forced a little heat to her face making her flush bashfully.
    “I had given up hope on finding her when she left Arbearl. If she doesn't want to be found, you won't find her.” She bit her finger, almost as if she had something else in mind. She then took a deep breath and agreed to help him. “ But I suppose you need me.”
    Her stomach was churning a little bit at how helpless she was acting. It was sickening to her. Yet. for the time being, it would have to do. She needed Lance for her plans to come to pass.
    Lance nodded and opened the door to the cottage “ Good. Get dressed, we leave shortly,” his words were quick and to the point.
    He would keep her around while he found Makayla, but something about her made him feel uneasy.
    Allyssia made her way to the bed chambers and removed the night gown she had picked for the evening. She reached over to the already laid out travel tunic as she glanced to the corner “ How did the attack on Mandeleth go,” she muttered quietly to the silent observer.
    The dark figure stepped from the shadows ever so carefully as to reveal himself to her. It was Skat. Small and frail looking, but more dangerous than most anyone in the lands of Greystone.
    She had taught him how to use a power that was given to him at birth. The spider gnome was born and found in the pits of a dragons grave yard. The graves in which the undead dragon, Trekkanon, and Darksolace had lain many slain dragons to rest almost 30 years ago.  Skat stayed with his people up until a few years ago when he had met Allyssia. Most of them had not wanted to have much to do with him. They said they could smell the stench of death on him. A superstitious bunch of people, he had been an outcast and easily recruited to her cause.
    Why wouldn't he go with her? For one, Allyssia's beauty was unmatched. The power radiated in her eyes. Even now, he could not take his eyes off of her silky smooth, pale skin and her wavy locks of dark hair. He caught himself staring and seemed to lightly blush below his bristly white-haired gnarled face. She pretended not to notice. Or she did not care one or the other. 
    " It went well, my mistress. The slayer of dragons now has Mandeleth keep to call his home,” he said jokingly. He glanced to the doorway, making sure noone was there. “ He is a loose cannon, my mistress.”
    She knew he was talking about Darksolace. It was his newfound take on life, and the necromancer knew more about the man than the dragon slayer knew about himself. Of course, to bring a person as powerful as Darksolace back to life you had to become one with him. Skat knew the man well. He knew that the dragon slayer would search for more power, and that power being what had destroyed all of the plans Sypher and Kainen had made. It was that hunger that brought down the army of the dark elves and allowed Tallen to gain control over the palace of Mandeleth in the first place.
    “ I'm aware of this," she acknowledged. " I will deal with him when the time is right.”
    Allyssia was nearly dressed now. It was a traveling tunic that was not hers but the property of the mistress of the house. It was not made for long distance traveling, but it would do. It fit her a little more loose than she had liked, but not loose enough that Lance would notice anything. Men were easy that way. She thought to herself.
    “ I want you to keep yourself in the shadows. I'm going to take Lance north, over the pass and into the mountains. But the ice druid must be preoccupied while we do this,” she leaned down and looked skat in the eyes. “ I do not want your jealousy to get the better of you. I need his seed. In the cold of the mountains-- he will need warmth. And there is where she will come for him”
    A faint smile crosses her face as she holds Skat's shoulders. “ Understood?”
    For a moment, Skat's eyes showed a hint of anger, and then they seemed to cool with her reassurance. “Afterwords, we will dispose of him. Correct?”
    She nodded in response and stood grabbing what appeared to be a walking stick with a gem in the tip. The gem matched her eyes, a glint of purple and brilliant brightness even in the darkness.
    Skat snorted one quick time and looked to the window. “ The dragon slayer oversteps his bounds,” he grumbles, as he steps to --holding his staff up.
    You could hear the shrill of Trekkanon in the night sky, and  in response Fletch had shrilled out in warning. The front door of the cabin came open and Lance was coming down the hallway when Allyssia came quickly out of the room.
    “ What was that?!” she exclaimed, as she was covering her ears.
    Lance didn't have time to answer her. He grabbed her by the arm and took her out to the porch, tossing her on Fletch's back. The dragon hissed and snapped at Lance, but the dragoon held his finger up.
    “ Take her to safety. I don't want any arguing!” His face was serious. Allyssia was the best chance they had of finding Makayla. He knew it. Even if something felt wrong with the whole situation, he would have to take the chance. It was all he had to work on.
    Fletch snapped at him one last time and yelped. He padded along and flapped his mighty wings, taking off. Leaving Lance behind to fend for himself. He hissed again while in the air as if he were weeping, hoping to see Lance again.
    Trekkanon took note of the large black dragon taking flight  in the open field and quickly changed course to pursue it. The dragon was smaller than he remembered 7 years ago, but it was still rather large. The undead beast flapped his wings and gained  a little more height in the air. He then tucked them and gained immense amounts of speed, trying to aim himself like a bullet at the black dragon.
    Fletch was quicker. With a mighty flap of his wings, he moved above Trekkanon as he swooped by. He reared his head back and shrilled loudly. The snout erupted a dark spark and fire burst from his lips. The fire was as dark as night and the dark flames were known to be able to burn though just about anything. The only flames known to be hotter than the black flames were the flames of the Brother Blade.
    The fire hit Trekkanon directly, but didnt phase the larger beast. It yelped over its shoulder as he reared its own head back, and seemed to roll in the air. With its belly facing upward, it hurled a net of slime toward Fletch and his rider.
    It almost seemed like the attack would hit when a funnel cloud burst from Allyssia's hand and ripped them a perfect size hole through the net of liquids. Fletch answered Trekkanon's attack with a few short bursts of fireballs. They weren't the same as the steady stream he had fired before. These had large mouthfuls of saliva in them, and would cause a tremendous amount of impact if hit.
    The blasts all missed. The dragon had rolled back around and was now swooping between the trees. Fletch hissed in dismay as he changed course quickly. He could not outrun the other dragon and he could not destroy it. Trekkanon was undead and the beast would live forever. That was part of the other dragons curse. The only thing Fletch had to his advantage was his intelligence, and perhaps his rider at the moment. He could sense her immense power, but didn't know how well or if she was willing to use it.
    Lance had noticed Trekkanon take off after Fletch, and watched the black dragon handle the situation. He turned just in time to see the hooded figure at the edge of the forest area. The figure didn't move. It stood 6 feet tall and was a rather large build. He recognized it almost instantly. But, as an 11 year old boy, Darksolace had seemed so much bigger 7 years ago.
    The dragoon grunted and flaired his wings. The sun being down left him at a disadvantage if the slayer wished to attack. For some reason, Darksolace did not. He was just standing there, his eyes fixed on the events at hand. Darksolace isnt after me! He murmured to himself as he turned and leapt through the air, flairing his wings again.
    At this point, he would have to trust Fletch and what the dragon had planned to do. Both of them already knew that Trekkanon was undead, and in turn-- a god of dragons. The beast was unkillable and, to top it off, Darksolace was not commanding him. Getting rid of the dragon slayer was going to be little help this time around.
    Trekkanon reared about again, coming straight at Fletch. This time from the left. As he got close, he flaired his wings and reached out with his dark menacing talons. Fletch flaired his wings, as well, but was too slow to reacth. The claws made contact-- one snagging his hind leg and the other gripping the front. Fletch yelped in dismay as his head jerked down to snap his teeth at the claw digging into his front leg.
    Trekkanon reared back as they both started falling to the ground rapidly. Fletch seemed to realize what he was doing and he jerked his head up, snatching the underside of the undead beast's neck with his fangs.  He then let out one of the loudest shrills you would ever hear from Fletch. It was as if he put all his might and energy into this one final burst of black fire.
    It errupted from his mouth at point blank while the fangs held onto the other creatures throat. And even though the attack would not kill Trekkanon, the dragon whipped and yelped in pain. The blast was so hot that Allyssia had to leap from the back of the black dragon. Her wings flaired, she would have to dislodge them or she would lose her ride.
    With a flap of her dark angelic wings, she lifted her staff up. Her eyes turned pitch black and the pupal turned blood red as a tightly condenced cloud brought itself out of the tip of the staff. She then pointed it at Trekkanon, careful not to hit Fletch, and it almost seemed as if snowflakes began to form around  the clouds.
    She had to get closer, she thought as she flaired her wings again. Her concentration still keen, and her eyes now weeping with tears of blood. She was small enough to fit between the two and, she let the storm go.
    The clouds whipped out almost in an uncontrollable and violent way. It was the full force of a blizzard wrapped up in a tight little package, and the magic was aimed at the undead beast. The other side of the cloud was facing Fletch.
    Trekkanon held on. They were all falling to the ground, wings flapping and slapping at the air as they tried to keep flight. The bone chilling cold and the immense heat tearing at his flesh all at the same time. If the dragon had ever felt pain, this would be the moment.
    Fletch jerked one last time, ripping himself free of the undead dragon and flairing his wings. He flaps one good time to maintain his composure. He leaned down to his front leg as he had his wings spread in a steady glide. He licked his wound and grimaced a bit.
    “ Fletch,” he could hear Lance's voice. 
    The dragoon had wings. However he could not fly very well. His wings were made for gliding and he could only take flight in the daylight. Fletch could not help but chitter at the fact that the dragoon had attempted to come to his rescue, none the less. He also turned to face Allyssia, and nodded in respect.
    Trekkanon was gone. The damage done to his flesh left the undead dragon not wanting any more. He would leave and heal his body before returning to give chase. This would give them time to recuperate and move on.
    Allyssia found herself back on the back of the black dragon. Her wings allowed her to fly, but they were causing her to lose her strength-- A drawback to being mortal while having the wings of an angel. The feathers looked as if they had started to wilt as well. She had used a lot of her energy in that fight. She did not have enough strength to sustain flight any more, and Fletch could see this.
    Lance was just as grateful to her as his dragon was. They found an opening in the forest beyond the canyon which would keep Darksolace at least a day behind, if he had followed. Something that was bothering the dragoon was why the dragonslayer was after her.
    It didnt take Allyssia long to find her bag for sleeping. She had not said a word since the confrontation, and Lance was seeing to Fletch's wounds. The dragon was resilient. The wound on his hind leg was shallow and caused no problems. But the one on his front leg was deep.
    The prince moved to one of the traveling bags that he had kept and pulled a large  hook needle out. Fletch sniffed almost as if he were saying NO, and that he was fine. Lance couldn't help but chuckle. He then grabbed his staff and pulled one of the swords from it, laying it in the small bit of fire that they had made for the nights camp. He pulled a bit of twine from the sack as he moved over to Fletch and hooked it into the dragons flesh. The dragon snarled in response and looked as if he wanted to snap at Lance, but decided against it.
            Lance diligently tied up the wound and then gritted his teeth. The wound was deep enough that it was still seeping blood, even though Lance had sewn it up.
    “ It's time, bud. Try to keep it down.”
    Fletch knew what was next. The dragoon reached over and grabbed the handle of the sword and, before Fletch could react, he put the glowing hot end on the wound--  forcing it to cauterize.
    Now, you wouldn't think a creature that could breath fire could feel heat so much, but it was not true. Fletch's body shuddered in pain. More pain than the initial attack had. You could hear him grinding his teeth together as he maintained his composure without making a sound.
    Lance didn't leave the sword on very long. He checked the wound over and looked up at the dragon. Fletch looked down at him and then to the sword almost threateningly. The prince couldn't help but smile up at him and reach up, rubbing his head.
    He tried to take the dragon's mind off the pain for a second.
    “ So, What do you think of her?”, he muttered to the dragon. Fletch paused a second, as if to think his answer over. He then started making a few gutteral sounds and sniffs on the air. He stopped, looking over at her sleeping. Sniffing a few times, he then looked down at his leg
    Lance nodded and looked around. “i know she did. And I do agree something feels--,” he cut off, noticing her roll around in the sleeping bag. “ We will just see how it goes... For now.”