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The wet slap of something solid colliding with his chest woke Goro with a startled gasp, his eyes flying open and his fingers fumbling to grope for his sheathed sword beside him. Panic lanced through his skull as the weight slipped off of him from sitting up so violently, his entire body tensed and ready to fight. The frigid winds bit into his exposed face and hands as he lashed out with his sheathed blade before striking something so hard that it sent shockwaves up his arm.
His brain stumbled to catch up with him right as a massive paw descended on him, pinning him back onto his bedroll without any real effort. All the air left his chest in a rush and stars danced in his vision as a painfully infuriatingly familiar snout pushed its way into his face. Hot breath fanned across his face as the stench of blood and sulfur wafted over him, causing his eyes to water in an instant.
“Ack — fuck off!” Goro wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, shoving uselessly at the massive lizard hell-bent on squashing him. It was a futile thing, given the beast was stronger than five horses combined and sturdier than a brick wall.
The drake simply responded with a chuff, blasting Goro’s face with more putrid air before he finally managed to wriggle out from under its paw. Shoving his blade back towards his packs, Goro glared at the creature with contempt. Blood was smeared across the drake’s mouth, dripping down onto the grass below when Goro’s attention was caught by a flash of brown and white in his periphery.
Sitting primly in his lap, half tossed onto the ground, was a ripped apart haunch of what Goro could only assume was once a deer. His stomach churned instantly, bile stinging the back of his tongue as he averted his eyes, scowling to himself.
“You’re disgusting,” Goro admonished, prising himself from his bedroll gingerly, shoving the dragon’s head away when the beast chuffed at him, rising to its full height to regard him boredly. “I’ve already told you, not on my bedroll, you filthy thing. Do you know how hard it is to get the blood out of the fabrics?”
The glittering, smoldering red eyes of the dragon stared down at him, slitted and narrow in the bright light of morning, uncaring of his complaints and silent. Goro could almost swear there was more intelligence behind those eyes than there should reasonably be for a beast like this dragon, and yet the way it stared at him was like it knew just how frustrated Goro’s grown of it. And it simply continues because it likes it.
A few paces away, Loki nickered and pawed at the ground impatiently. The dragon responded with a deep rumble, a little puff of smoke billowing from his snout as Goro shuffled to his feet to assess the state of the campground.
He’d been on the run from his father — the king — Masayoshi Shido for the better part of two weeks now, traveling by horseback, Loki. The steed was his pride and joy, a gorgeous black and white roan with a braided mane and tail, something that Goro took much pride in. His horse cared for him and he cared for it, and he’d been Goro’s closest friend since he was a child.
The dragon, however, was nothing more than a freeloader.
Goro had come across it four days ago, wounded in a clearing after Loki nearly tore Goro’s arm off chasing after it. It was a bloody mess, but with Goro’s meager healing magic mastery, he was able to at least keep the beast from bleeding out. He had intended to slip away while it nursed its barely healed wounds, but once Goro mounted Loki and rode off, there was a thunderous wind behind him and the drake practically crashed into the earth in front of him, intent on following Goro.
A complete nuisance, the dragon hovered nearby constantly, still too injured to fly off but just mobile enough to follow close behind. On one hand, Goro liked the company of the beast if only because it scared away any of the other dangerous creatures that lurked in the forest. But on the other, less fortunate hand, that meant that Goro was now subjected to the oversized horse-like drake pinning Goro to his bedroll with its massive head like a dog. Or drop bloodied, half eaten carcasses on him to wake him.
Goro sighed, dragging the gnawed-on haunch out of his bedding and toward the dead firepit a few paces away. He wasn’t hungry now, but knew he’d need to eat later, and salting and wrapping the meat now would save him time later when the exhaustion crept into his bones again. Frowning to himself, Goro stripped off the clothes on his upper body, folding them neatly into his bedroll to keep them from getting bloodied while he worked.
It was a comfort to work with his hands and his knife. He’d learned in his youth how to properly dress down game from one of his tutors, Muhen, and he’s grateful now for the lessons even if he hated them when he was young. But it was a nice distraction from the annoyance hovering over his shoulder, watching raptly, puffing hot air all over the fresh, bloody meat. In no time, Goro had dressed the flank down into something more manageable that he could wrap in his extra animal skins to preserve for now. He had no way of treating the pelt, and with a look of disdain, Goro tossed the remains to the dragon eagerly wriggling around beside him.
They were about another week out from the border, if Goro’s calculations were correct. His objective was to escape his father’s jurisdiction through a small port town called Yongen. If he could make it there, into a sovereign state, then his father would have no way to force him home. As much as Masayoshi Shido must love having Goro as his own personal little scapegoat — a glorified punching bag — there would be no way he’d so boldly encroach on free lands just to bring his bastard prince back.
“If only you could fly,” Goro sighed, watching the drake tear into the leftovers of the deer. Its eyes slid up to meet Goro’s, his head cocking ever so slightly, as if he truly understood Goro’s words. “It’d make this much easier.”
Shrugging Goro gathered the few tools he’d bloodied and headed off toward a stream nearby. A quick rinse in the gently running waters had it turning crimson, gore and viscera washed away by the clear waters and Goro neatly patted his tools dry with a spare towel. Dunking the towel, he set to cleaning his arms free of blood as well, muttering to himself. He was running low on supplies, truthfully, and if it wasn’t for this annoying drake tailing him, then Goro would have been hard-pressed to keep feeding himself.
At least Loki was managing just fine.
His thoughts were interrupted by a woosh of air next to him and his heart sank when the realization that his morning was about to get a whole lot worse hit him. In an instant, he was doused with freezing water and nearly knocked off of his feet as the stupid black dragon dove into the waters with a loud, almost giddy trumpeting sound. Drenched, horrified, and now freezing, Goro stooped down to grab the largest rock he could find before hurling it at the damned thing right as it came up for air.
“You’re the worst!” Goro shouted, trying to keep the shiver out of his voice as the rock bounced harmlessly off of the dragon’s dense skull.
The answering chuff sounded far too human for Goro’s liking as he waddled away from the stream muttering curses to himself, eager to change clothing and attempt to leave the dragon behind once more.
Of course, it was a fruitless effort in hindsight.
Goro had changed his clothes and packed his things in near record time, saddling Loki and hoisting the bags onto his companion. He’d only made it about an hour out from their camp before there was a thunderous sound behind him, startling Loki into a full sprint as the black dragon rocketed into view from behind. It took a solid fifteen minutes or so before Loki would calm down, nickering and attempting to bite the dragon anytime the beast came close, much to its apparent displeasure.
Left with two incensed creatures, Goro trudged on, trying to keep his previous pace as he truthfully didn’t want to make camp in this area. It was rife with beasts, both born of the night and normal creatures alike. He’d lost ground the last few nights and he needed to make up the distance. There’s no telling if Shido had sent his men after Goro while he was still on his land. He didn’t want to have to fend off beasts and men alike while trying to sleep.
He traveled for another few hours, until the sun was just cresting past midday, edging closer into drenching the sky in a myriad of colors, when he finally let himself slide numb-legged off of Loki and unsteadily onto the earth below. The forest had begun to thin around this area, but was still too close to the untamed territory for Goro’s comfort, but Loki needed rest and frankly, Goro wanted the feeling back in the lower half of his body.
His dragon shadow had disappeared a little while ago, presumably off to hunt or do whatever, or finally it’d grown tired of Goro ignoring it and flew off. It left Goro alone with his thoughts as he led Loki to what looked like a tasty patch of grass, content to roll a half-rotted log out of the thickets so that he could prop himself against it for a small nap.
The sun was warm and the grass was soft, allowing Goro just a few minutes of true peace and quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and Loki’s quiet munching to keep him company. It was pleasant, if Goro was honest, and he soon found his eyes growing heavy, comforted by the presence of his companion, knowing they were only days away from true freedom.
****
Something wrenched Goro awake, tearing him from his dream with a start and he thrashed instinctively, lashing out at whatever had closed around him. Groggy, but with a dose of adrenaline surging through him, Goro’s eyes went wide as the ground rushed up to meet him with no way for him to brace himself. The air was knocked out of him in an instant, stars dancing across his vision as a weight settled onto his back, his shoulders screaming in pain as his arms were harshly twisted behind his back.
“We got him!” A gruff voice called out, followed by a few other voices cheering, and Goro’s heart sank to his stomach.
“Unhand me!” Goro snarled, kicking his legs in a vain attempt to break free, trying to tug his arms out of the iron grips on his wrists. Panic lanced through him as the urgency of his situation settled.
“Not so fast, little bastard!” One of the men growled back at him just as the man on top of him slapped harsh, cold manacles on his wrists. “Your daddy’s gonna pay a pretty penny for your return.”
“N-No!” Goro’s voice cracked from how hard he shouted, thrashing in the man’s grip on top of him before the very air around him seemed to freeze all at once.
“What the hell is that!?” One man screamed, his voice cut off with a disgusting, wet crunch. More shouts rang out in the small area around them and Goro took his chance to finally get one of his knees under him, offering just enough leverage for him to violently throw the man off.
Chaos erupted around them all, and Goro’s eyes widened as a blur of shimmering black scales smeared across his vision, colliding with one of the attempted kidnappers — soldiers of Goro’s father most likely — painting the grass with crimson. He’d managed to free himself from one of his captors, but he was shackled and his weapons were stowed with Loki, who was nowhere to be seen now.
A deafening roar pierced through the trees and Goro winced instinctively.
The dragon he’d been traveling with tore through the small group of men like they were made of paper, spears and swords glancing off of its hide before ivory claws and teeth sank into their flesh. Goro had scrambled into sitting up, wrenching at the manacles but finding no give, he cursed to himself. If the drake had finally snapped and was willing to slaughter these men without remorse, then Goro was practically an enticing meal sitting here.
A cold blade pressed to his throat, biting into his skin as an arm wrapped around his chest under his arms, forcing Goro to his feet. He snarled, attempting to headbutt whoever had grabbed him from behind but was cowed by the blade on his skin.
“The king wanted you alive, but I’m sure he’ll understand if I have to take a few pieces,” A man snarled in his ear, hot breath fanning against his cheek as he forcefully dragged Goro back and away from the rampaging beast. “Move!” he hissed, urging Goro toward the forest.
Grimacing, Goro stumbled to keep up with the man forcing him to walk, a hand painfully wrenching on Goro’s bound wrists. He needed to think, fast, to escape and find Loki and —
The crack of tree branches were the only warning the two of them got before the drake descended on them, throwing them both to the ground. It bellowed loudly as they struggled for a moment, the man shouting before being cut off with a sickening crunch.
As quickly as it all started, it was over, with the dragon panting heavily over its newest kill, and Goro frozen in a mixture of shock and fear. The forest was quiet as the black scales of the beast rippled with the muscle beneath its skin when it turned toward him, red eyes shimmering while blood stained its maw.
And a single, bright steel blade sticking out of its neck.
It groaned softly, wobbling on its legs before collapsing to the forest floor in a heap and a pained whine. Goro’s heart lurched in his chest as he stumbled forward on his knees. His hands were still bound and he nearly toppled forward, but the dragon was writhing in pain, unable to remove the blade on its own.
“Stop moving!” Goro barked, the beasts’ eyes shooting wide as it snarled, deafening and bassy, but Goro was focused on the wound that had slowly started to ooze blood. Working without his hands was going to be a problem, but there was this desperate bubble welling up in his chest, a need to try regardless. However, the dragon obeyed, going ramrod stiff as Goro maneuvered to twist around and grasp the blade with his bound hands, wrenching it out as the dragon snarled in pain.
With a deep breath, Goro focused, reaching within himself for the small wellspring of power he had. He was no arch mage by any stretch, nor was he as talented as the great wizards in his father’s court, and neither was his magic as potent as the medical staff, but the least he could do was try. The wound glowed an otherworldly blue, the dragon groaning low and deep as Goro squeezed his eyes shut, pouring all he had into rooting through the wound in his minds’ eye, finding a sickly seed of rot and squashing it like a bothersome bug. It must have been a poisoned blade.
The dragon’s whole body curled in on itself, tossing Goro to the ground as the trees shook around them. A powerful, alien presence filled Goro’s mind as the dragon made a pained screech, wind tearing through the trees all around them as its body shimmered and writhed.
When Goro blinked, laying in the grass where the dragon had just been, was a form of a young man clad in absolutely nothing, heaving for breath as he struggled to stay upright on his hands and knees. His hair was a mess of black curls, all in disarray as he finally collapsed onto the grass, breathless and laughing.
“Holy shit,” the man’s voice was a rich, deep honey that honestly startled Goro from his stupor.
“What the fuck?” he whispered, flinching when the man’s head snapped up, an almost feral glint in his eyes before recognition dawned on him.
“You’re okay!” he murmured incredulously as he shifted to kneel in the grass, his eyes wide.
Without hesitation, Goro shed his vest, leaving him in just his thin shirt as he tossed the garment toward the man, who at least had the decency to look sheepish as he covered his modesty. “What the hell is going on?” Goro demanded.
With a lopsided smile, the man ran a hand through his hair, shocking Goro with how brilliantly silver his eyes were. Familiar in a way that he couldn’t place. “I was cursed, and you broke it. I guess I owe you my thanks, huh?”
Confused, Goro shook his head. “I just repaid a favor.”
“Favor?”
“You took a poisoned blade for my sake. I’d half thought you were a mindless beast about to tear my throat out.”
The man laughed brightly again, tossing his face back to bask in the warmth of the sun before he settled into a content hum. “Tell me your name then, o’ savior of mine.”
Scowling, Goro shifted to mirror the man’s posture. “Goro.”
“No last name?”
“You don’t need to know it.”
“Fair enough!” Another blinding smile was aimed toward Goro, and he hated how his chest tightened with a weird sort of affection. “My name is Ren. Amamiya Ren.”
Goro’s eyes widened, his heart freezing in his chest. The silver eyes, the family name —
“You’re the —”
“The very same! And wouldn’t you know it, the lost prince of Yongen owing his life to the wayward bastard of Shido’s kingdom, how poetic.” Ren’s grin sharpened knowingly and Goro swallowed thickly, disgust bubbling in his chest at the mere mention of his father. “Perhaps I can help you with your goal.”
No, no this was perfect. Goro needed an excuse to get through the gates of Yongen, and his status as the lion king’s cub would only serve to get him steel in his chest for his troubles. But with the missing prince by his side, vouching for him….that changes things.
“Very well,” Goro huffed indignantly, gesturing to his still bound hands behind him. “Perhaps I’ll make use of you yet.”
Despite the change in his form, Ren’s grin was devilishly reptilian, and Goro knew he’d made a strong ally if he was to truly free himself from his father’s clutches.