Shadows Reborn (2nd Book)

Chapter 8: Tripping and Talking

Note:

Changed my mind by the way. This chapter will still be on Fendrel and the others' POV, but half will be on Althalos and his group's. Just wanted to clarify before I go.

Okay bye, that's all, continue on.  =3

Althalos and the others kept walking through the dense greenery, hacking apart obstructive leaves and bushes alike. Minutes had went by with Miasmador trying to goad them to tell what they had not told the dragon, but alas, they would not divulge such information, leaving the dragon, in his words, "sad and thirsty."

That had elicited a slight chuckle from the demoness Astarte, and a rather insulting comment from the demon lord, ever the hilarious joker that he is.

Never expected a dragon to be a drama queen. You know, like what you were once.

"How many more steps must we have to take? I'd rather feel the wind beneath my wings than walk. Dragons are supposed to be the rulers of the skies, not the slaves of the earth," Miasmador drew out each word in a slow excruciating manner, stopping in his tracks, and in turn, causing them both to stop as well and look at the dragon.

"Are you sure you'd car..." Astarte was interrupted by the now-seething, and in both Althalos and Merec's eyes, whining dragon.

"Of course I can," Miasmador urged them, motioning with his to climb onto his back. "I am a dragon! I have strength that equals to twenty men."

For some reason, Althalos had the slightest urge to roll his eyes, which again to the "emotion-displaced" Shadow Champion, was confusing, and that feeling too!

Our bond runs deep, my Champion. I expect from you that you get it through your thick skull.

With that, his fears were allayed, as he muttered a short apology from his lord for ever doubting him, giving him lavish names such as the "Lord of All" and such names like "Vanquisher of the Impotent," which only served to please the Lord of Shadowy Death.

Such deference in this one. The demon lord's words echoed through his mind.

"What say you, talsod? Shall we taste the winds, and fly on Miasmador, or shall we continue walking, bound to the earth?" Astarte's inquiry broke him out his thoughts, and he looked at the golden-eyed dragon, then to the female Nightwalker, his companions.

"There's also the matter of you getting lost in your euphoria, and we can't afford that," Althalos responded, raising an eyebrow against the dragon who was now baring his teeth.

"I know very well the gravity of our predicament, Silent One, and I will not stand for being insulted," Miasmador retorted, adding a rich growl at the end that purposely emphasized his annoyance.

Feisty.

Althalos shook his head, then replied once more,"Are you sure about that, dragon?"

"Hear me well, mortal," The dragon grumbled out, smoke drifting out of his nostrils as he again bared his teeth, snapping his jaw with a definite snap. "I am not some loose-minded dragon like most of our kind when it comes to flying. I know where I am going, and I know how important it is for you two to retrieve whatever you are searching for. Now, will you trust me or not?"

Trust him. It's exhausting to have to deal with these useless blatherings when there's more work to be done.

Of course, milord.

"Very well then, dragon. We shall fly on your back for the duration of our trek," Althalos said, just as Merec had ordered.

"Very well," Miasmador repeated, sweeping his wings, and opening them up in their full glory as he raised his head. "What are you two waiting for? Climb on my back, and experience the majesty of the skies."