Blood, Fire, and Wind

[Judas of Vahl]

Blood, Fire, and Wind​

Grimhold, Panatha​

[member="Vrag"]​

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There was a covenant to be created this day. It was to be constructed of blood, sweat, tears, and the everlasting will to live. Only great things were afoot and they would change everything these people knew forever. It wasn't just the black robed man carrying a pair of these things that would be affected - but Panatha as a whole. Their ways of waging war recklessly had cost them much and it was about time they beheld something so great and powerful, yet majestic and wise in its mannerisms.

Mordecai ran a hand over the pair of grey-white pods, feeling the bumps coming from within as if something was knocking on a door. Their door would be open soon and he would welcome them with open arms, blade in hand. To become one with another, blood must be shared. It must be shed and it must flow through the veins of both.

Another bump. "Easy, children," the Lord cooed, "Let me prepare for your awakening."

Alas he would not be able to do this alone. So he had summoned for assistance. Summoned for someone he deemed worthy yet not displayed such arrogance and conceitedness that his request wouldn't be downright rejected as a defense of pride.

 

[Vrag]

To say that she was surprised when she'd received the missive would be an understatement. Still, Vrag wasn't one to waste time, and she definitely knew an opportunity when she saw one. Especially if it was the opportunity of a lifetime. With that in mind, the firrerreo took up the offer and flew to the fringes of space, to join [member="Mordecai Zambrano"] in his fortress.

Panathan empire, indeed, the newcomer thought as she was escorted through the gates of Grimhold. The building was appropriately intimidating for a Sith Lord, but despite its looming walls and narrow corridors Vrag had to admit that the place was quite pleasant. Then again, she was a Sith as well. Maybe she'd have to ask one of the Jedi for a second opinion. With a sigh she pushed her silly thoughts away and straightened her posture as she neared the dungeon, aiming to impress the Lord who had called on her.

The servant showed her in and closed the door behind her, leaving Vrag to descend the steps alone. She didn't feel at all nervous, for some reason; in fact, she was quite excited, and keeping those emotions off her face was proving to be quite the challenge.

Then she rounded the last corner and before her opened an underground hall, carved from the face of the mountain itself. The ceiling was so high that it disappeared in the flickering shadows of the torches, and she couldn't help but be impressed with the architectural feat. Her blue eyes were soon drawn to the man standing in the middle of the chamber, though, and to the odd-looking grey pods. Instead of guessing what those were, the firrerreo wisely decided to wait and listen, certain that Zambrano would offer an explanation at some point.

"My Lord," she greeted the dark-haired man and came to a stop a few paces away.

 

[Judas of Vahl]

He laid the pair of quietly growling ovals on a massive table, one that beheld a plethora of various tools. Knives, pliers, syringes, tongs, and some other vials and glasses that one would typically expect to find in a science lab. The eggs rested somewhat peacefully on a rather large cushion built of alchemized leather. Mordecai noted that the rightmost pod trembled the most frequently, a sign that life was abound within it and that such one would be his once its little head popped out.

Footsteps rang out from behind along with a soft, inquisitive and feminine voice. Arching an eyebrow, Mordecai half-turned to see it this new presence was the one he had requested. He'd felt her enter Grimhold long ago and felt the waves in the Force tell him of her destination, but little of her identity and intentions besides the fact that she indeed was a female humanoid. The Force worked in mystical ways and only told the younger Zambrano what it choose to. So, he typically accepted that and appreciated whatever little knowledge he gained.

"Do not call me lord," he started, "brother is a more fitting title." That's right; they were all equals within the One Sith. Be it a field commander or a mechanic repairing a battletank, he called them all brothers and sisters.

One of the eggs throbbed and he laid a gentle hand upon it. "I see you've accepted my request. I'm pleased to see that you are eager to serve," his emerald eyes flashed with mirth, "and I do indeed have some special things here. For both of us."

Another squeak resounded from the left one, as if it were calling out for help. "Come, look."

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

She was genuinely surprised by his correction, but nodded in affirmation anyway; bickering with a Sith Lord over something as unimportant as titles wasn't really on her agenda. Instead the Acolyte stepped closer to the table upon which the two eggs now rested, her eyes assessing the colorful array of tools laid out beside them. Various scenarios about what was about to happen ran through her head, but she dismissed most of them as pure fantasy. She would see in due time.

"Both of us?" she inquired, confusion lacing her voice. The Sith weren't particularly known for sharing their toys, and yet one of the Hands was now offering exactly that. Vrag narrowed her eyes at the pulsing orb underneath his palm, both curious and hesitant to find out what it was.

The other egg let out a high pitched sound that echoed with need, and the firrerreo instinctively turned her attention to it. Her fingers stretched out to touch it, but faltered just before the tip of her gauntleted hand would make contact with the fleshy mass.

"What... what are they?" The question was a quiet one, but it rang loud in the silence of the spacious underground hall, reverberating off the massive walls.

[member="Mordecai Zambrano"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Her submission to his words were faintly visible as he observed a flicker of doubt and surprise arise within her gaze. A light smile touched his features once she drew closer and hesitantly inspected the pair of eggs that were laid out before them. While the young woman let her eyes and hands learn everything they could about the pods, Mordecai focused on her. She was very nearly his height or even slightly taller, but he had bulk on her in the form of muscles. Mordecai was not arrogant in the slightest though being the definition of a warrior was something he prided himself in and swinging a sword was a great way to burn calories and strengthen yourself.

Whilst she was adorned from head to toe in armor that appeared to be livid with electronics, including the mask, the Lord standing next to her was simply garbed in a black tunic and matching boots. It was always nice to just relax and turn your thoughts away from the war while you could and not wearing around his heavy plate armor was an excellent way to further that motive. A small blade hung at his belt - but nothing else. Had the young acolyte even considered taking the life of a Hand and taking the position for herself, this was an optimum moment.

Her quiet question broadened his slight grin. "They are Arkanian dragons. Proud, mighty, wise, and strong. They are the apex predators of Arkania and succumb to none." Mordecai shifted his eyes to the right one, "But I have plans to change that fact."

Another thump came from both, quickly followed by scratching growls. "Be gentle with them, do not severely harm or scar them unless I tell you."

"Am I understood?" Steel words from Mordecai were enough to make Drill Sergeants frantically nod. He hoped Vrag would comply like he hoped.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

A silent nod was all the affirmation Vrag gave in regards to his words. Her mind, however, was a whole another story. Dragons? The thought sent a spike of adrenaline down her spine, and it was all she could do not to show the thrill she was feeling. ...my dragon? The thought that followed after was a much more timid one, barely heard through the mess of her excitement. Still, she was attuned to herself, accustomed to listening to those quiet, inquisitive ideas more than most, and so she picked it up despite the enthusiasm running rampant through her mind. Patience, she answered herself and then pushed it all down, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Quite literally, in fact.

With a small smile, Vrag followed the Sith Lord's lead and finally let her fingers touch the shifting shell. She couldn't exactly feel it, but from the way it deformed around her hand ever so slightly, the Acolyte guessed it was some sort of mucous membrane that had formed around the embryo. She didn't have to be told twice, and despite the intimidating strength of her arms, Vrag was able to lift the egg with utmost care; the scene would easily look ridiculous to an outside observer.

"Yes," she replied, the word almost redundant. After all, it was obvious she had no intention to cause the creature any harm.

[member="Mordecai Zambrano"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Her eyes still hadn't moved away from the egg and she had now hefted it up into her arms with a gentle, yet firm movement.

"Yes," he said, "It will be yours. You are more worthy than the rest of our brothers and sisters, so take that to heart, young one."

Mordecai had decided to keep his egg on the table rather than risk holding it while it began to hatch. If there was a possibility of anything happening - like dropping it - then he wanted to be the furthest away from that possibility as possible. It wouldn't be a happy day for anyone if he had to scrape a poor little hatchling from the floor, bloodied and bruised.

Part of the membrane cracked after another series of thumbs and grumbles from within. The little guy seemed to get a little angrier with each failed attempt and had probably been shoving his snout and claws at the soft, but resilient inner layer. It was only just a small crack but it would grow larger and larger with each repeating blow towards the shell. It seemed as though the attacks were becoming more ferocious as well, but it could've been Mordecai's imagination as well.

"Allow it to come out, but do not help it at all."

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Her head shot up as the man spoke again, and her blue eyes widened in surprise and anger. So much for the privacy of one's own mind. Still, Vrag wasn't so stupid as to go off on a Sith Lord, especially not after being granted such a rare opportunity. So she ground her teeth and kept her mouth shut, turning her attention back to the egg she was holding in her arms. The life inside it was becoming more and more anxious to get out, and she could see various appendages pressing impatiently against the flexible material of its prison.

Fascinated by the struggle of birth, Vrag watched, mouth slightly open, as a single sharp talon came bursting through the shell. The Sith didn't recoil when the amniotic fluid gushed out and splashed on her armor, her gaze riveted to the form moving ever more urgently beneath the thin layer.

[member="Mordecai Zambrano"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

The sickly sweet smell of birthing fluids quickly became apparent as Vrag was about to be introduced to her new everlasting companion. Mordecai hid a small grin at that fact, especially with the fact that green-yellow mucus-like fluids coated parts of her armor and the smell wasn't so great either. It was a shame she had to be holding the egg while this happened. On the other hand, Mordecai himself was far away enough not to be targeted by heat-seeking baby fluids and closed in on his own little hatchling once his snout broke through.

"Push harder, little one. Let nothing stand in your way," he chided. "Do not falter."

The little black-scaled snout pulled back inside of the shell with an agitated grunt, growling with frustration. The pause following lasted only a mere second before yet another face-tackle was sent towards the egg's outer layer with a hearty crack. The beast chortled something that sounded almost reminiscent of a victory cry. Mordecai snorted.

"Come out, little beastie."

A black claw curled around the edges of the half shattered egg. Another claw wrapped around the opposite side and a grunt resounded from within as the tiny dragon hatchling pulled itself out onto the table with a squeak. It shivered a little, wiped at the mucus with its little wings, and groaned about something else.

"Hello there." Mordecai grinned at little yellow eyes.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

If the Sith Lord's face was anything to go by, the fluid splattered all across her breastplate wasn't exactly the most exquisite fragrance to have ever graced his nostrils, but Vrag remained oblivious to the odor if it was indeed the cause of his displeasure. She glanced downwards again, peering through the transparisteel of her visor to see what the dragonling was doing. The first tear had been made mere seconds ago, and already the young beast was struggling to break free, now with even more fervor than before. Her blue eyes remained transfixed on the creature's movements underneath the translucent shell, stretching and ripping with a violent determination.

It brought a smile to her face, for it reminded her in no small measure of her own birth; or, rather, rebirth. It had been a struggle for day one for the firrerreo, and yet she had prevailed in the face of constant adversity, growing stronger and more resolute with each passing day. No mercy was spared for her when she had needed it most, and so Vrag set her jaw and spared none for the life in her hands as well.

"Once more unto the breach," was all she said to the young dragon, just as the creature finally burst free of its prison with a high-pitched shriek of triumph.

The black form coiled around her forearms, its scales sliding wetly against the solid metal plate. It stumbled a bit, but the woman's grip was firm, and the dragonling quickly regained its balance, turning to face the owner of the arms cradling him. Its head was too big for the rest of its body, but the bright crimson eyes looking at her were full of curiosity and will. Despite her best efforts, Vrag grinned at the beast, and to her surprise, the dragon leered back, showing off the laughably tiny rows of teeth.

"I like you," the Sith declared with a satisfied smile.

[member="Mordecai Zambrano"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

While Vrag was preoccupied with draconic birthing fluids all over her and the shrieks of newfound joy coming from her new companion, Mordecai turned his attention towards his own little beastie. His eyes were locked upon its sickly, sleek black frame. It had squeaked when clawing out of its organic prison and now gazed back at his emerald eyes, scraping at the gummy liquids still covering portions of its body. With an inspecting glance, the Sith Lord peeked down to determine its gender and smirked at the dragon.

It noticed his look and retreated, snarling at the man. "Oh, well then." Tentative fingers etched across the space between them and sought solace upon black scales. The tiny monster growled once again and snapped at his hand. However, he didn't jerk away. Mordecai just continued on until he stroked the flank of the hatchling with a firm gentleness. Surprisingly, the dragon didn't bite at him again and seemed to enjoy the affection.

"You just need some love, don'tcha?" He grinned and lovingly patted its side.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

The little monster let out another shriek and climbed further up her arms, quickly assuming its perch on her left shoulder, assessing its dominance over the admittedly small territory. Still, every conquest starts out small, and if the dragon's enthusiasm was anything to go by, they would achieve great things together. The thought brought a grin to her lips, and for once Vrag didn't struggle to suppress it.

She glanced over to where Lord Zambrano was doting on his own hatchling; in truth, it was quite amusing to see the warmonger of renown show his softer side. The Sith was half-expecting him to start making cooing noises at the beastie any second now, but wisely kept her thoughts to herself. Instead of saying something stupid the woman approached him with careful steps, making sure all the time that the newborn dragon on her shoulder wouldn't suddenly tumble to his death.

"What happens now?" she asked as she came to a stop a few paces away from [member="Mordecai Zambrano"]. She retrieved the little monstrosity from seat and placed it on the table despite its wailing noises. She trained her watchful eyes on it just in case it tried anything, prepared to interrupt whatever mischief a young dragon could get up to.

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Of course there was a softer side to the tank of the One Sith. There was always mesh padding on the interior of armor and shells always had something in place for comfort. However, he only displayed this soft interior of flesh and warmth for a fraction of a second. With the little hatchling, heavy-lidded, in his fingers and the other one nearing him on the table, it was time to move on. As if on cue, Vrag questioned his thoughts as soon as they arose in his mind.

"I hope you don't mind losing a little blood." The reply was short and cut off by Mordecai freeing the blade from his belt. Swift motion defined him as he brought the blade's edge against the palm of his hand before slowly dragging it across. The sweet smell of freshly drawn blood filled the air and both dragon's reacted to it, eyes narrowing and laughable fangs curling back into snarls.

The dragon he had claimed inched closer, snout lowered and back arched as if he was on the prowl. Instincts were apparently something that these little hatchlings didn't need to learn. The blade passed over to Vrag with blood still slicked with it. Mordecai grimaced at the sting and lowered his hand, palm outwards.

His dragon lunged for it with a growl, thought it was silenced halfway as the Zambrano snatched it up by the throat. "Fooled you," he took the blade back and, to the hatchling's contempt, sliced open its fleshly underbelly. The thing squealed with pain as crimson seeped from its fresh wound, writhing as much as it could within his grasp. Mordecai returned the knife to Vrag and curled his fingers into a fist, dribbling blood down his arm and, more importantly, into the dragon's wound.

"Bonded by blood are we, sworn together are we. I am yours, you are mine. Brothers in life, brothers in death." He unclamped the fist and pressed his open palm against his underbelly, "Feel my blood as I feel yours."

While the oath worked for Mordecai, the dragon still moaned in pain and writhed. The younger Zambrano's eyes gleamed crimson. After a few moments, he felt the mournful weeping of the beastie die down along with his heartbeat. His blood was in him and the dragon's blood pumped through his own veins. Air was sucked in through his nose and the dragon followed suit - as if breathing new life.

He pulled his hand away and small embers twirled about the cut, cauterizing and cleansing it of any infections before sealing the wound. It would scar and the Sith's own cut would scar.

"Your turn," he held the hatchling gently, "Just don't cut him deep. I'll seal the wound when you're ready."

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Her confusion at his words only lasted a moment, her eyes widening in realization when he pulled out a knife and sliced across his palm without hesitation. Vrag winced at his choice to make the wound, however, hoping that the man was good at judging depth, or all of his tendons would be rendered useless. It wouldn't be such a big deal if she'd done it, since such a small thing would be gone in a matter of minutes, but an injury like that could prove tricky if not handled properly. Then again, maybe that was part of the process? The risk?

Her icy eyes remained fixed on his motions, fascinated by the ritualistic bonding, and her own heart started beating a little bit faster in her chest. This was it, she knew now. There would be no going back from this point on, and everything would change. She let out a shallow breath as the discovery hit her like a Star Destroyer at full speed, and lost in thought as she was, Vrag almost didn't hear [member="Mordecai Zambrano"]'s voice when he offered her the newly clean blade.

The Sith took the proffered weapon and carefully removed the gauntlet from her left forearm, inspecting the silver, pristine skin before choosing a spot to draw blood. The knife bit into her flesh with a pain that barely registered, for its edge had a bitter sharpness to it, and the nigh purple blood trickled down the taut muscle as she coiled her fingers into a tight fist. Her eyes turned to the dragonling he was holding up in the air, and her expression was that of grim determination as she brought the tip of the blade up to its exposed belly.

With a decisive cut, Vrag parted the soft scales and flesh underneath, both thrilled and somewhat anxious to exchange her blood with the monster. Then again, what better way to reaffirm what she already knew about herself?

She wasn't one for words, so the sinister ritual happened purely on a physical level as droplets of magenta fell from her own wound to the rent muscle on the dragon's stomach. She took its blood in turn, a hiss the only sound that escaped her throat as searing pain spiked through her veins and all over her body. It was like she was being burned from the inside out, but Vrag held her bleeding forearm flush against the wound of the beast, breathing through her teeth with the effort.

"It is done," she uttered at last and yanked her arm away from the wailing hatchling.