The dry, cracked earth kicked up brown chalk like dust as I drug my feel lazily against the parched ground. Disoriented vision and confusion were the cause of my 'drunken' stumbling as I attempted to keep myself upright.
It was as if I was swimming, no drowning in my thoughts. The anger I was feeling multiplied tenfold as the reality of my situation crashed down upon me like a wave.
I, the sole heir to the Drakonian kingdom have been drugged. Shame and fury weighed down my sweaty form, a stern jab to my stomach aided in my staggering body.
"You men are all the same."
A harsh female voice spat, my shaken hands reached up to my temples, kneading them for relief. So this is what it has come to? Treacherous snake.
"Thinking with the body and not the mind!"
A snarl pressed past my lips as a sharp blow came into contact with my chest, making me stumble backwards. "You drugged me!" I roared out in anger, my behemoth attempting to help drag me out of the muck of whatever was dulling my senses.
Although my body was being manipulated, my ears could pick up an odd whizzing sound slicing through the air.
It was another dagger. I leant back, thinking I was just in time before it hit me. Unfortunately, I am dealing with trickery, and it grazed my face. My behemoth could very well take over and end her, end this drawn out match.
One long dark braid whipped around me like lightning, as she twirled effortlessly around my heavy body, hitting just the right spots. The spots to end a fight.
"Strike while the iron is hot, Iona!"
That voice. Of course that imbecile would put her up to this. Hearing that voice gave me enough strength to fight through the haze and grapple at my sword.
"You wench! Come and fight!" I snarled, as I could hear her dark chuckle echoing throughout my mind as I staggered forward. I thought there was only one of Iona, but now three appeared.
I charged at one figure, realizing nothing was happening. I immediately went after the second. "You bastards!" I spat, as I was finally met with the real her.
The sound of metal slicing through the air boggled my mind and angered my behemoth.
"Iona cease playing with your food and finish him!"
At those words, her swings and jabs became more powerful and dangerous. My behemoth was scratching to get out, the drug severely impacting our skills.
With the strength my behemoth gave me, skin shifted to scale as soon as her sword struck my arm. Using my strength I grabbed at the weapon and tossed it aside, a smile now on my weakened face.
Before I could even gather the strength to swing my sword once more, I felt metal pressing against the side of my neck. The scent of pine invaded my nostrils as a deep chuckle sounded in my ear.
"You fail, Prince!"
I stifled my pain as the blade ran over the skin of my neck slightly, causing it to split and bleed. It would heal soon, but the pain was immediate.
"You filthy bastard," I spat. I staggered away from my uncle, before falling backwards. I hit the dry ground with a thud, my breathing now labored.
"General Iona thank you for helping with this sparring match." Alazar gave praise to the General as I struggled to throw curses of the ancients his way. The old fool.
A feminine laugh floated past me. "Of course, Prince Alazar. At first I thought against it but when you mentioned dipping the daggers in poison, well I could not refuse such an opportunity."
Of course he made such a suggestion. "Yes! Was that not such a nice addition...oh my the antidote! I almost forgot. One moment Loche."
As my body began to shut down, and my movements heavily weighed down my limbs, I felt my mouth being forced open. A cool liquid ran down my throat before my neck was being supported a bit by gruff hands.
Seconds to minutes ticked by of the struggles that previously plagued me washing away with the antidote given. Everything was slowly being restored...
"You fools," I spat, slowly able to sit up and glower at the dark haired woman clad in armor. She crossed her arms over her breast plate, a look of annoyance crossing her hardened features. Her eyes flashed one of challenge before she falsely smiled.
"You are the fool. You should have shifted when you had the chance," The General of our army spoke. She was correct of course. I was caught up in showing my own strengths, not relying on my behemoths unfortunately.
Alazar chuckled. "She is right. You let something as fickle and meaningless as pride get in your way. You could have died Loche!"
Why is this old fool yelling as if my head is not weighing a ton right now? "You always told me to exhaust my options as a human before shifting. How was I supposed to know you would be mad enough to poison me during a sparring match."
"You will be drugged, poisoned and even worse as King at any given moment. You are the sole heir to the throne!" Alazar lashed out, speaking as if I was a child again. Did I care about the old man's ramblings? No I did not.
My behemoth was apart of me who did not like authority or life. He enjoyed killing, he enjoyed eating and he enjoyed being angry. Once he started it was nearly impossible to get him to stop.
"...Prince Alazar as much as I enjoy you berating Prince Loche, are you not supposed to be traveling soon?"
Alazar and I exchanged looks, before a groan slipped past my lips. I laid back down on the dusty earth and growled out in frustration. Today was a day to train not to deal with dolts from another kingdom.
My Uncle cursed himself before speaking. "Lochelan get up. We have to head to Faenor. You have to pick out your future wife."
"You choose for me. I have more pressing matters to tend to than to entertain an old king and his nuisance daughters." Of course I never met them before but my king always complains about how weak and spineless the Fae King is. He had to be right in that sense. Only a hopeless coward would agree to not even have a simple army in their kingdom. Peace was their way and it was incredulous.
General Iona sighed. "I rather be skinned alive than speak of marriage. I wish you luck in finding your wife." I did not need luck, I needed my uncle to gather his wits and just choose a daughter for me. Having to pretend to be diplomatic was worse then being poisoned in my eyes.
"Loche I will not choose for you! This is your job as the only heir to the throne. I do not know what kind of woman you like and he has three daughters," my uncle complained as he grabbed me, helping me stand to my feet.
Three daughters? I forget how many he had. I have been avoiding such a topic for the past few years.. "I want the quietest one. The one who will not be a nuisance."
The ground seemed to shake with his laughter. "Well lucky for you I have intel on such matters. The eldest is the one you speak of. The second eldest is boisterous and the last is quite clumsy but has a voice of gold I hear."
I did not care for clumsy women who made careless mistakes. Nor loud women. I suppose the eldest was my only choice. "Let us get this over with."
Alazar chuckled. "I would think a male prince would be happy to sow his royal seed with one of the most beautiful, delicate of women. Or so they say."
Seed. That word made me cringe. Impregnating a woman I did not care for was not going to be joyous in my eyes. Just another task I had to complete in order to do my duty.
"Yes well, we will see."
"This is ridiculous."
After changing my clothing to appear more 'friendly' we traveled to the fae kingdom. For some reason Alazar vehemently disagreed with me about wearing light armor and bringing one of my normal weapons that stayed on my hips. It would somehow be an insult to the peaceful nation to come equipped with absolutely nothing to prepare myself incase of a possible ambush.
Being aware that my body was a weapon was not comforting. I did not believe that a nation as prosperous as Faenor was capable of not having an army. It made little sense, yet Alazar brushed over my questions about such a matter.
"How long is this damned hall?" I growled out. We had been following a shaky fae guard for the last ten minutes. Their clothing was odd. Yes they wore a type of armor but it was thin and seemed easy for my behemoth to sink his teeth into. Not to mention that their backs were out, for their thin wings. It would be simple to kill a fae if all of them had their backs exposed. I made a note of that.
Alazar glanced at me. "Do you want some fresh air? You seem a bit uneasy or on edge..."
Yes I was on edge. My behemoth was being oddly quiet and that could only mean one or two things. He was furious and would force a shift soon or he was hungry. Both were not good things. He has not spoken since we sparred.
"Ah...um we have a balcony j-just through those doors, sir," the male guard announced, gripping his scepter tightly. It reminded one of a stick that could be easily broken. He has a right to be afraid.
Sighing, I glanced to the doors he spoke of. "Take my uncle to the King. I will follow his scent once I am done."
The man did not move. "I-Icannot leave a g-guest
alone, that is not hospitable." My behemoth did not enjoy feeling suffocated, and even in this grand castle with it's high ceilings and weak fae flying about, we felt trapped.
I showed him just how much I cared for that statement, flashing him my sharp teeth with a smile. The man jumped, stumbling back. His scythe fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
"Come son," Alazar chuckled as he picked up his scythe and weighed it in his hands. He twirled it, before stabbing into the ground. "Well crafted scythe. The blade should be sharpened though. Let us go."
Alazar grabbed the terrified guard with a chuckle, leading him away. Glancing at the door I opened it and walked inside. It seemed to be an abandoned bedroom.
Heading over to the balcony doors, I flung them open and looked out over the castle. Air was one thing that calmed my raging behemoth and I. Aggression was just part of our nature and it was becoming increasingly difficult to manage.
It was best if we traveled in a carriage rather than flying because it could be deemed 'too hostile.' If these people were so weak as to think that us traveling in our true forms was hostile then they do not even deserve the land they inhabit.
Kill fae. Take land.
At least my behemoth agreed with my thoughts. Often we disagreed. He would want to kill and I would rather not... Right now I needed to reign in my thoughts and put forth a 'kind face.'
After a few minutes of threatening my behemoth, I decided now would be a time to face the fae and get this over with.
On my way out of the room, an odd scent filled my nostrils. Before I could look around to see where it was coming from, someone slammed into me.
The person obviously smaller, bounced off of me and fell to the ground.
Hungry.
The fae who clumsily slammed into me was not a weak guard...but a woman.
Dressed in the lightest shade of azure that was covered in green stains. The material hugged her slight body, from her bosom to her hips, then flared.
Her eyes were the oddest colors. A pale orange and the softest lavender I have yet seen in all my years.
"S-sorry sir!" She apologized, as she scrambled up to her feet. Why was her voice so...soothing? "Ah, are you okay?" She questioned, as I noticed that her heart shaped face had colors smeared all over it. Paint? Even her long tendrils of golden hair had twigs and grass peaking out.
Who was this dirty woman? "Can you not see?" I snapped, noting her odd eyes. Perhaps she was blind or just a dolt. "You should watch where you are going."
She took a precautionary step back from me, her cheeks reddening. "I apologize. I hope I did not hurt you."
Hurt me? If anything I should be worried about her. I doubt anything she could or would do, could harm me. She on the other hand seemed delicate. I am sure some part of her was bruised from this encounter...
"What is your name?" I demanded as she gave me an odd look. Was she of age? If she was, she was bound to have a husband. A woman like her of course was already wedded and probably produced a child or two. Her partner was probably a weak fae man. For some odd reason that...displeases me.
Devour fae.
The sudden and unmistakable surge of emotions and dominance was surprising. For some odd reason the behemoth wanted this unknown woman.
I need to go find the King and his daughters. Although this woman appealed to my behemoth in some sort of way...she was not a princess.
She chewed on her bottom lip, and my behemoth instantly began to complain and not cooperate. He wanted this fae woman. Which was odd. Women did not often excite him. Bloodshed and meat did.
"Uh, I do not have a name! G-goodbye sir!"
Want fae.
The urge to run after her was strong, especially since my behemoth was vocal about it. I could not. I had to be content with these princesses and force the odd eyed, dirty fae woman out of my mind.
Are you all excited? I am!
Will Loche be able to get that little dirty fae out his mind?🤣
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