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Dracoth

Crimson mercury

T he howling wind sweeps across the snowy tundra as if some malevolent god seeks to brush us from existence, but I stride firm, melting the stabbing flakes that cling to me.

Princesa, however, falters. Her fragile human body wilts under Aroth’s bitter touch.

She shields her face with trembling hands as I urge her onward, my hand firm against the small of her back.

Her feet sink deep into the top layer of snow, her head bowed, each ragged breath whipping across the frigid air.

The sight sickens me—this weakness, this helplessness.

But worst of all are the unfamiliar feelings it evokes: concern, anxiety.

These emotions are as foreign to me as I am to this frozen wasteland.

The bond twists my mind with brutal hands as if Arawnoth himself is bending my will, reshaping me into something else.

I should resist. I should fight. But I dare not—could not. I study Princesa, seeing her beautiful golden hair pulled by the gales, wondering if the Gods are reshaping her as they do me. This is our destiny. If I must protect the female, shield her, then so be it.

“It’s fucking freezing!” she yells, her voice strained through chattering teeth, clutching her pet cyloillar, Todd , under her furs close to her bosom. “Can’t we take one of those flying car things?” she complains, her face open and pleading—not for the first time.

It’s only been a few hours since we departed from Ignixis, though I share her sentiment. This land of Aroth, with its unending freezing whiteness, would test the mettle of the hardest Magaxus warrior.

“No,” I grunt, catching her face morphing into tight-faced annoyance.

“No?” she shouts, struggling to be heard over the cutting winds that howl like a pack of hungry hydraliths. “Why not?” she asks incredulously.

I notice the frost sparkling on her face; her pale skin is almost blue under the biting chill. Without thinking, I brush the cold from her, marveling at her delicate features.

“It is forbidden,” I murmur, lost in the moment.

She shuts her eyes, leaning into my touch, her cold fingers curling around mine. The coldness she exudes worries me.

“Mmm, you’re so warm,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the storm.

We still have hours of travel ahead before we exit Virennix territory.

Despite her furs, I worry her human weakness will succumb to the cold.

I pluck the female from her feet, my strength easily cradling her in my mighty arms. She squeals in surprise, but her face lights up with a smile.

Good. I do not wish to silence her again.

My pace quickens without Princesa’s trudging steps, and I feel her nestle in tight against me, burying close to my molten heart like the cyloillar she clutches, searching for the heat she desperately craves.

“How long until we reach the temple?” she asks, her voice muffled, a note of exhaustion creeping in.

“Two days,” I reply. A rough guess. Lanaisor lies on the east side of Draxxus’s expansive territory, meaning we can wrap around by going west. But with Princesa in tow, it’s difficult to know for certain.

“Two days!” she groans, throwing her head back. “My feet and back are already killing me, and we’ve got two more days of this?” She shakes her head. “Kill me now.”

Her tone, laced with despair, irritates me. Her resolve is as brittle as the snowflakes melting on my face.

“Oh, you’re pissed at me?” Princesa announces in an eager tone, sensing her eyes peering up at me. “I can feel your ‘ Mr. Frowny Face ’ energy through our connection.” She titters.

I grimace, the realization sinking in—she can sense my thoughts, which I’ve guarded my entire life. Now they are laid bare before Princesa—the female who probes and mocks like an enemy breaching the fortress of my mind. The gates unbarred before her merciless assault.

“This is fun!” she giggles, and I’m tempted to cover her mouth again.

“So... what happened between you and Sandra?” she asks with a hint of mischief, her voice almost lost in the fierce snapping winds.

My guts clench, memories of the retching striking like a meteorite, until I ruthlessly suppress them with my molten resolve, driving back such pretty concerns.

“Ah, I felt that,” she mocks, catching the momentary slip. “Nice try, Dracoth.”

I clench my jaw. This intrusion is intolerable.

“Silence, female,” I command, keeping my voice steady.

“What’s the big deal?” Princesa exhales with a heavy sigh. “I mean, I’m supposed to be your bonded woman, remember? You’re going to have to trust me at some point.”

Trust does not equate to needless oversharing.

My war brothers may trust me with their lives, but they would never seek to dishonor themselves by voicing every inane concern.

There’s a hint of mockery in Princesa’s tone and her eager gaze, which gives me pause.

But perhaps the female is correct—humans are delicate after all.

They may find comfort wallowing in their shared misery.

“Sandra...” I begin, the words surprisingly elusive. “She clung to me like a spirit I could not shake. In a moment of weakness, we embraced...” The rush of that chaotic moment surges through me, as if I’d consumed bloodroot.

“You go, Sandra!” Princesa laughs and claps her hands with excitement, strangely pleased at this news. “I always knew she wasn’t as innocent as she let on.” But then, her smile fades.

“So... did you two fuck then?” she asks, her tone lacking any mirth suddenly.

Fuck— the word is unfamiliar, but context provides meaning.

Now the bond betrays her—anger, disappointment simmering like boiling plasma in the recesses of my mind. It’s almost amusing.

“No,” I growl.

She shifts in my arms, her eyes searching mine. “You can’t just say ‘ no ’ and leave it at that. What the hell happened?”

A question that haunts me still.

“When we touched... I was repulsed. Sickened to my core.” The words spill out, my lips curling in disgust. Already I regret giving her so much insight.

“Oh my God!” she gasps, her hand covering her mouth as if in shock. “I don’t know why I never thought of it before, but... it makes sense.” She clutches my arm, taking a deep breath, and I brace for some new human madness. “Dracoth, I think you might be gay.”

Gay?

I frown as she nods in satisfaction, wearing a loathsome expression of unearned pride.

“I know it’s hard to come out, especially for a big, tough warrior man.

But it’s okay. I hear you. I get it, all right?

” She stares at me, expecting an answer, but only confusion clouds my thoughts.

“I mean, I’ll still be your chieftainess, of course.

You know, for appearances... while you do. .. whatever it is you like doing.”

The sound of crunching snow and howling wind fills the unspoken air. Is joy seen as taboo to humans? Only misery and complaining are tolerated?

“I feel gay crushing my enemies, savoring the heat of their blood on my claws,” I offer, studying her face for understanding.

“Eww!” Princesa’s face wrinkles with disgust. “That’s quite the.

.. uh... fetish.” She glances around as if someone might eavesdrop in this desolate land of ice.

“But hey, no judgment. I know how the rich and powerful behave. It’ll be our little secret, I promise.

And if you want...” She hesitates, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“I could, you know, dress up like an alien man or something. We could roleplay a... massacre thing?”

Dress as a male?

“There is no secret to keep, foolish female,” I snap sharply, this conversation now growing tiresome and confusing in equal measure. “My joy for battle is plain for all to see.”

“Oooh!” she exclaims, drawing out the word like it’s a revelation. “You think I meant happy? No, no. I mean... I think you’re a homosexual.”

Her accusation bites harsher than the coldest wind, rooting me to the spot.

My grip falters, almost dropping her onto the frosty snow as if I’m carrying an active virus bomb.

Rage ignites within me, my molten blood simmering dangerously close to Rush.

The female reeks of the most repugnant contempt.

Disappointment surges within me, but I suppress it, hardening my heart, bolstering its walls with forged metal.

Arawnoth must have sent her to test my resolve. Her every word and action is meant to dishonor and shame. But I will not waver. Though she displeases me, I will endure her scorn and drag her before the Gods at the Mortakin-Tok if I must.

“Dracoth...” Princesa mutters, her gaze downcast, likely sensing my fury through the treacherous bond that reveals too much.

“Silence!” I snap, the sound of her voice as displeasing as the howling winds.

Princesa sighs, shifting to turn away in my arms. “I don’t see what the big fucking deal—” But my hand envelopes her mouth, sealing her annoying words and covering most of her head.

She wriggles, her protests weak, but I do not care. My focus is drawn to the horizon—the destiny that calls me forward.

Nothing else matters.

Driven by renewed impatience, I quicken my pace, my steps pounding through the snow with thunderous force.

The purple sun fades, giving way to the moon’s cold, watchful gaze.

Mounds of snow, piled like wide-based mountains, loom ahead, and I know from my entry into this accursed land that Virennix hunters likely watch from its peaks.

However, trusting Ignixis’s words, I decide to continue.

My intention to exit their lands is obvious.

The shadows stretch long as we pass the mounds, and instinctively my eyes are drawn upward. The swirling mist shrouds the peaks, but I know they’re there, watching. I release my hold on Princesa’s face, lowering my hand to equip my warvisor.

“I swear on Arawnoth, if you keep doing that, I’ll crush your big, boring head,” she hisses, her voice full of venom as she takes in a deep breath, finally free of my hand.