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Dracoth

Princess

I feel her—my bonded female. She’s close now, very close, no longer haunted by the gnawing fear or creeping numbness I once sensed. Instead, the female—whoever she is—radiates a sense of excitement, faint in the back of my mind, leaving a vague impression.

Good.

To lose her now would be a tragedy. The thought of my glorious destiny succumbing to mere cold twists my guts and bares my fangs. Still, despite her apparent safety, I hasten through the biting, ankle-deep snow, eager to learn her identity.

The frozen wind howls, the snowflakes whip across my face, stabbing like icy shards, and the purple sunlight reflecting off the crystalline surface blinds me with its shimmer.

Yet I stride through the frozen wasteland like an erupting volcano, leaving pools of melted snow in my wake.

The heat from my body melts the pathetic frost that clings to me like a dying warrior’s desperate clutch, sending plumes of mist swirling into the storm.

I squint through the glare and swirling snow. I see a domed structure of ice, half-buried beneath mounds of snow, like some shelled beast hibernating from the biting cold. But nothing escapes the scorching heat I exude.

The thick snow crunches underfoot as I near it, forced to duck my head to pass through the tunnel-like entrance.

Inside, light fractures off countless angled surfaces, casting a dizzying display that assaults my senses. Already I hear the hushed breaths of those within. They know I’m here. There’s more than one—someone besides my bonded female, the architect of this icy tomb.

The tunnel ends. My gaze snaps to the figure in the center.

Princesa .

The female who challenges me endlessly, the one who irks me at every opportunity. I almost laugh, tasting the bitter irony. The Gods, it seems, have a sense of humor—or perhaps this is their final test, a divine challenge to prove I’m worthy of my power.

My fiery blood surges through my veins, taking in the sight of her.

She stands different somehow; perhaps it’s confidence or a haughty regality she now feigns, wearing it like a new mantle.

The female is as fickle as the most pampered high merchant queen.

Now, she is mine—bonded to me for eternity, like a wild hydralith I must control, only now we’re chained to each other.

She is beautiful, though. The frost clings to her wavy blonde hair, catching the refracted light, while her curves, draped in furs and leathers, draw my eye despite myself. Her lips quirk into a small smile—a rare expression on her face, and one I don’t understand.

What does it mean?

I approach her with deliberate, heavy steps, conscious of the slippery ice underfoot.

My gaze scans the room, each detail raising more questions.

Frozen cyloillars line the walls, their bodies entombed in ice.

A melted circle surrounds Princesa, and at its edge, Ignixis stalks along the edge like a shadow, hoping to remain unseen.

Our gazes meet, and to his credit, he shows no fear—only a smirk highlighted by the fevered glow of his green eyes.

Whatever this is, he’s responsible.

The questions multiply in my mind. A black-and-red cyloillar perches atop Princesa’s shoulder, clacking its mandibles as I draw near.

I frown, wondering how this creature from the soft lands of Draxxi survives the biting cold, and why it has the audacity to sit upon my bonded female, as if it holds any claim to her.

Instinctively, I raise my hand, ready to crush the pest.

“No!” Princesa screams, feebly fumbling to grab my arm. “Leave Todd alone!”

I could swat her aside, kill this so-called ‘ Todd .’ It would be a trivial effort. But her fierce silver eyes lock onto mine, and something in her gaze stays my hand. I lower it, watching the strange creature nestle against her cheek, content in her embrace.

Princesa breathes a sigh of relief, stroking the grub.

“Such a good... uh, bug. I won’t let big scary Dracoth hurt you,” she coos in an annoying, high-pitched tone. The cyloillar leans into her touch, making clacking noises.

What in Arawnoth’s name has transpired here?

My curiosity heightens as I notice the scorched marks marring Princesa’s chest and neck. I grasp her jaw, turning her face gently to examine the symbols, my searing fingers grazing her soft skin.

“The cycle burns eternal,” I mutter, recognizing the runes.

“Hey!” Princesa protests, clutching my wrist and pushing with comical effort. “You could just ask,” she grumbles, glaring up at me. But I hardly register her complaint. The symbols... they’re disturbingly similar to the words Arawnoth once spoke to me in a dream.

I turn to Ignixis, looking for answers. “Is this your doing?” I ask, my anger flaring at the thought that he’s marked my female, tainted her pale perfection.

“Oh, no, young Dracoth.” Ignixis’s smirk twists into a wide, yellow-fanged grin. “What you see here is the exquisite work of Arawnoth himself.”

Arawnoth?

I study the runic symbols with newfound reverence, brushing my fingertips over the bumpy skin. Princesa throws her head back and groans, and I gasp, seeing the runes blaze under my touch, the symbols flaring like stoked embers.

“The heat…” Princesa purrs, her words trailing off.

“These words,” I murmur, feeling my own heat being reflected at me with roaring intensity, “are similar to ones from before.”

Her eyes glow, molten silver like heated mercury, her expression a mix of passion and awe.

“I remember well, young Dracoth,” Ignixis snickers, his joy palpable.

“Rise, and complete the cycle. These sacred words from the gods herald their return, just as foretold.” I sense him approaching, like a looming shadow.

“I kept my promise to you! It’s because of me that your bonded female is revealed—not just revealed, but I summoned Arawnoth himself to show his favor. ”

His laughter turns manic, echoing through the icy chamber. “Yes, I too am chosen. He deems me worthy enough to heed my call, my devotions, my adherence. I’ve endured much, but from my pain and trials births the fruits of destiny. I saw him... through the fires he came—”

“Silence,” I cut him off sharply, unable to endure more of his fanaticism.

“Dracoth...” Princesa’s voice calls to me, husky and raw. Her flushed face gleams with a strange pink hue, her eyes shimmering under the fractured light. “I want your heat inside me.”

The words hit me like a blow from a sneachir. I stagger back, only now realizing my hand had been tracing the runes on her chest and neck. They burn with the same molten heat as the lavas beneath Scarn.

Ignixis’ mocking laughter slashes through our heavy breaths. “Ah, young love... it stirs even my ancient heart to see it again. So full of vigor. The promise of life.” He sighs as his words pass over me, my mind a heady mix of confusing questions and conflicting emotions.

My gaze drops, hope and joy now tainted by a rising, loathsome fear—fear that I might retch at the female’s affections like with Sandra.

“What’s the matter? Do you deny destiny.

.. now!” Ignixis questions, mockery lacing his every word.

“Isn’t this what you so ardently wanted, why you threatened my life in your youthful impatience?

” He prowls around me, his voice moving from one side to the other.

“She’s right here, Dracoth. Take her; claim her. Your power awaits.”

“Cease your prattling, you old fool!” I roar, rounding on the disgraced Elder. His eyes narrow in glee at my outburst, and I already regret letting him provoke me. “Tell me what transpired here.” I snarl, gesturing toward the lifeless cyloillars scattered across the floor.

“Only what you bid me do, boy, ” Ignixis mocks, continuing to stalk like a venefex, closing in for the kill.

“Knowing the females were afield, I feigned an arrohawk attack. Naturally, the blessed daughter obliged in her childlike curiosity.” He inclines his head toward Princesa, who wears a blank expression, lost in thought.

“I brought her here .” Ignixis spits the last word. “Then I recalled her fear of being devoured—a primal, understandable inclination. So, I acquired, at no small expense, I might add, those creatures.” He sighs, nodding toward a pile of the dead cyloillars.

“As useless as all things from Draxxi, they faltered in mere moments. Still, they proved invaluable!” He stops his pacing to stare at us with a broad smile.

“I knew in her terror and suffering, the bond would reach out and call to you. Just as the old Mortakin-Kai’s spoke off.

And it worked beyond my wildest dreams. Not only do you stand here with your bonded female, but Arawnoth himself intervened! ”

“Because you almost killed her, you fool!” I snap, my fury flaring. Through the bond, I could sense her life teetering on the edge. Ignixis forgets humans are fragile—nothing like we Klendathians. Not even close. That’s why Arawnoth intervened, to preserve our people’s glorious destiny.

“Ah,” Ignixis waves me off, unconcerned.

“Don’t demand immediate results, then bleat about the methods.

Besides, the child is unharmed...” He turns toward Princesa, who absently brushes a hand over her scorched chest, while the cyloillar ‘ Todd’ clacks noisily on her shoulder.

“Well, she always was a bit strange, this one.” Ignixis leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

All human females are strange.

I snort, thinking Princesa stands at the pinnacle of that chaos. “How did you pass through the Virennix patrols and traps?” I ask, suddenly curious how this feeble coward avoided the sneachir with Princesa in tow.