Chapter 23
Gentle sunlight filtered through cracks in the wooden hut. Golden beams that highlighted small floating particles as they wafted through the air. Thrasik stared down at Griselda. She was covered in light scratches and small bruises from their escapade.
He wouldn’t have changed anything though. Such a small and frail creature pulled such intense and extravagant emotions from him within mere moments. He wouldn’t ever let anything happen to her. She was too precious to him, especially after all these sudden events and new found knowledge.
As much as he didn’t want to, he began to stir around her. They had to start on their trek back to the Quarry sooner than later. All this new information would be world changing for his people and might even give him his throne back. Hell, he might become king instead of being a prince.
Thrasik glanced at Griselda’s steadily waking form. She smoothed her hair down and rubbed at her eyes.
It might even allow her to become my queen.
The thought sent a thrill down his scales. To have others worship her only made sense. That is, they wouldn’t worship her in the same sense as him, but it would be deserved none the less. Especially since she was part dragonkin. He wondered why it didn’t show in her appearance though.
Griselda sat up, yawning and stretching before scratching at the back of her ear.
Her ears.
He hadn’t ever known a human to have such strange ears and considered her to just be an elf from stories he’d heard. They were sharper and longer than any he’d seen before. Maybe that was her dragonkin feature. It definitely helped set her apart from the others based off the stories she’d told him.
Tugging her close her moved to wrap his maw around her face.
“Ack! What are you doing?” Griselda pulled back, pushing against his shoulders to keep her face from being shoved in his maw so early.
“I thought your kind gave kisses upon waking up?” He cocked his head in confusion.
A bubbling laugh sounded from her as she closed her hands around his maw.
“A kiss does not always involve tongue, my love.” Her hands were so cold around his scales that he wondered if she’d become sick. “Keep your mouth closed and use your lips.”
Thrasik’s brow furrowed. His lips only moved a few directions, and puckering was not one of them.
Shoving his maw against her he pressed his closed lips to hers. They were soft in response. He still much preferred their tongues toying around and licking each other.
“I think that’s as close as you’re going to get.” A laugh giggled from her again.
“I prefer tongue.” His eyes squinted as he swiped a lick against her lips and cheek.
“Well, just don’t shove my face into your mouth right when we wake up and I’ll accept whichever form you want. How about that?” She placed a finger over his lips and planted a kiss on his snout.
“That works, I suppose.” He faked a pout, slumping his shoulders and rolling his eyes.
* * *
The day stretched on longer than he expected.
Shortly after they’d woken up, Thrasik had gone diving into the ocean, after helping clean up his mate, to catch a few fish for them to gorge on after such little food the past few days.
He’d watched as Griselda created a small fire to cook hers instead of just eating them as is.
It was always interesting to him watching the way other beings ate.
After eating, they’d began the trek back to the Quarry. They were currently on the outskirts of the plains. Griselda was passed out on his back. The sun hid behind fluffy clouds as the wind tugged them toward the same path he slithered.
Leaving the area of Silyre was strange. No creatures played around in the fields, but no demons lurked either. No plagued beasts wandered around in attempt to fulfill their hunger.
It wasn’t something he would complain about.
At the very least, it just set him a bit on edge.
Thrasik wondered what Lazarus would be up to now that Mish’Ta was fully dead and unable to be risen.
The whole mirage of the High Priest had been hidden behind the remnants of her power to keep the cathedral under an illusion, and now that it was gone…
what would the people who worshiped a cursed necromancer truly do?
Thrasik shook his head. It shouldn’t concern him right now. In fact, it shouldn’t concern his people at all. For decades the humans has followed the path of that wretched man despite the naga and dragons warning them.
Griselda stirred for a brief moment, rolling her head to the other side of his back.
The sun was nearing the horizon by the time he’d finally managed to get them to the outskirts of the Quarry. He was exhausted to say the least. This was a trek he hadn’t taken in many years. Despite him being larger, it still took a lot of energy out of him.
Trees splayed across the edge of a final patch of grass as sandy rocks began to jut out of the ground. A natural stairway led down a cliff face to the side into a large gorge. The air smelled extremely earthy here. A hint of herbs and spices wafted up from the gash beginning in the ground.
Thrasik took in a deep breath. He hadn’t been home in months. He almost wondered if he should just keep going until they hit the ocean and make a way for them to cross water to find new land and start over in a new area.
In the core of his depths, he truly hoped that he wouldn’t be torn alive for daring to show his face after being exiled. A light snore sounded from Griselda, reminding him that he was bringing an intruder along with himself.
Dragging his hands down his face, he began to hype himself up.
It’s your throne. It’s your right.
“You can do this. You’ve got this. The worst they can do is turn you away, right? Right!” He smacked his upper arms, shaking his spines in effort to wake up Griselda before rolling around to grab her.
Her eyes opened sleepily, blinking slowly in the brightness of the cloudy sun. She sat up and rubbed her eyes again. He knew she had to be exhausted from the past few days.
“We’re about to enter the Quarry. I want you to be awake in case things go an unplanned way,” he stated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and moving her braids to the front of her body over her shoulder.
“Understood. I’ll keep an eye open.” She nodded, rapidly blinking to clear her vision.
Thrasik rolled back over and began to crawl towards the slabs of stone as they descended into the recess of earth.
The gorge massively opened up beneath the initial illusion of earth. Multiple caves and caverns scattered around the area with natural plates that some could use to sunbathe on. Everything was a slightly ruddy color, almost like clay. The overhanging earth cast scrambled shadows near the caverns.
As Thrasik moved further down the stairs, he noticed a few things had changed since he’d last been to the Quarry.
For one, there was hardly anyone here. He would have ran into another naga by now.
It made an unease slither under his skin.
Secondly, his tongue flickered out and he didn’t scent any of the familiar associations with his home.
No one was cooking. None tanning hides. No dust being stirred from sparring matches.
“Something is wrong,” he hissed under his breath.
Griselda gripped tighter around his waist as his spines flared. He continued on their descent, flicking his tongue out every few steps to try and see if anything familiar would hit him.
A few moments later, they finally hit the bottom of the natural gash. Thrasik’s scales chittered. He was extremely uneasy, but something also stirred in him that sparked an irrational anger.
Without warning, his breath ticked into an almost frantic panting right before he took in a large gulp of air. His scales shook as he released a roar so threatening that the stones on the ground chattered from its rumble.
Griselda slammed her hands to her ears and tightened her thighs around his back.
He didn’t know why the roar ripped from him, but it was unlike any he’d ever made. His lip pulled back into a savage snarl as he whipped around to face a steady hissing.
Crawling from the depths of a large and decorated cave entrance was a naga so old his scales had fallen to where nothing remained on his hide. Wooden torches sat on either side of him with red paint dappled around the entrance. Strange chimes and totems hung from sinewy string above the entrance.
“Surprised you’ve returned,” a hoarse hiss came from the naga as though he had dust in his throat. “No need to roar. We are here, just deeper. Come.”
He waved a hand and turned. His eyes remained closed the entire time. His dusty hide slinking back into the shadows.
Thrasik glanced back at Griselda. She cocked her head at him in confusion. This was all too odd. His people never stayed inside the caves like this.
Following the elder naga, Thrasik moved to crawl on his hands. The ceiling of this cave was much lower than he’d thought. This certainly wasn’t one he’d been in before.
The elder naga kept turning to look back, making sure Thrasik didn’t move down a wrong path.
Finally, the tunnel opened up into a massive room.
Dozens of naga laid around in coils and splayed out.
All their heads perked up and turned to face the three of them.
Small torches scattered around the area, all the naga appeared to stay as far from them as possible.
Slithering to the middle of the room, the elder naga coiled and raised his hands. Another naga jumped down from a ledge on the height of the cave.
This one appeared the opposite of Thrasik. His scales were golden like shimmering sun. His eyes gleamed a blazing blue. Even his claws were a stark white. Everything about him seemed wrong.
Thrasik slid Griselda down his body, wiggling his tail until she stepped toward the wall of the cave and tucked her arms up to her chest. His lip snarled. This was his home. How dare some other naga dare to come in and try to claim his throne when it hadn’t even been born in his village.