Sitting on a stump, deep in the woods away from anything that could be remotely called a path, let alone a trail, the young man groaned and hung his head. Straight black hair, long enough to reach down past his shoulder blades hung around his head like a curtain, stirred only by his heavy breathing. He had been wandering for hours now, and dressed as he was in the long black coat with its red lining and silver trim, the black gloves and black leather boots, carrying a rather unwieldy-looking sword on his hip, it was no real surprise he was currently exhausted.

"I'm sure I've been heading in the same direction all this time, yet not a bloody village or even a road in sight for hours. Blast this stupid forest to Oblivion!" The young mans voice was smooth, educated and arrogant. The voice of an aristocrat used to not being lost.

As if to compliment his mood, the temperature in his immediate area began to fall rapidly, so much so that a fine dew was forming on the grass, which quickly became a delicate frost. Throwing his head back and roaring at the sky in frustration, a blast of cold pierced the canopy, so intense that the leaves, twigs, branches and even the insects and other forms of life that got caught up in it were instantly snap-frozen into solid ice sculptures.

With that out of his system, and realizing just what he had done, the gent grumbled to himself, pushed himself upright, and stomped off through the frozen grass to continue his journey. Behind him, the area he had frozen began to thaw out, the frost on the grass returning to dew but that which had been caught in his roar would remain as it was for some time still, the fact of which hadn't been lost on him, and only added to his current temper. If only he were five hundred metres to his right, he would have found a clear path to follow, rather than coincidentally walking perfectly parallel to it the entire time. Such was Wyvrens luck, and his sense of direction.

She had been traveling for days, or perhaps it was weeks. That which drove her, so strong, she had lost all sense of time. Forever seeking, forever gaining, yet never finding that which was missing. This was new land, a place much different from the lair she had called home for so long. A new realm, where dragons were few but all manner of other creatures set her senses on alert. Even Damien was ill at ease and she could feel the large black beast stomp his enormous hooves in agitation. Wrapped around her neck, hidden beneath her long flowing hair, Gideon peeked out at cautiously.

They were a strange trio. A large black war horse, a beautiful woman and a baby red dragon. The woman wore the clothes of a warrior. Brown leather boots that extended mid calf. Soft leather pants that left no doubt as to her gender. Sword at her waist, a mans tailored coat and white linen shirt. Around her neck, tucked safely between her ample breast, rested an amulet. it bore the same dragon crest as the sword. These the only clues to her lineage. If not for her womanly curves and her long flowing dark hair, from a distance one would assume her a man. She handled the large black warhorse with natural skill.

The path they traveled became less and less distinctive and the forest around them more prominent. It had been days since they had seen another living soul, weather it be man or beast. The path climbed upwards, towards rocky cliffs. Yet still that which she could not explain drove her on.

Those same rocky cliffs had been staring him in the face for half an hour or so now, mocking Wyvren with their stony silence in reply to his haughty demands for assistance. Sword drawn, its design was clearly unique, the hilt was a hand and a half long, grip and pommel modeled after the tail of a dragon, the cross-guard resembled the wings with the blade resting into the dragons open maw. The blade itself was a hand-length wide and forged to resemble the flame a dragon would breathe, an utterly ridiculous-looking sword until you saw him wield it.

With practiced skill he whipped the weapon about with one hand or two, splitting the air with a deep thrumming sound. The more he swung, the more a pale glow appeared on the blade, the metal losing its sheen to afine layer of ice growing from the hilt to the tip, leaving a wispy trail of mist from the tip as the blade cooled more and more. The final swing, an overhead two-handed strike, brought that blade to bear down onto a sizable rock that he'd kicked accidentally, a flash of brilliant ice-blue light shining out at the moment of contact, the offending rock becoming locked in ice and having sizable chunks shattered from its surface.

The rock didn't move in the least, and what damage done was minimal at best. Setting the tip of the sword into the ground aggressively, he leaned heavily on the cross-guard, his breath puffing out in heavy clouds of vapor.

"As if that blasted forest hadn't been enough, the moment I find something even close to a possible route, the very stones of the earth turn against me. I should have just paid those gypsies to take me along, blast it all."

Grumbling away tiredly, he dropped to a knee, resting his forehead against the cool metal of his swords cross-guard. It was clear his energy was spent, and if anything he may very well collapse where he was. He certainly wasn't about to get up and continue walking any time soon. Not even with the faint sound of horse-hooves approaching from behind. Maybe he'd ask them for directions, if he was still awake when they got near, if his pride allowed it.

The beast beneath her stilled, his ears laid back, he seemed to hold his breath. Gideon peeked his small nose out from the veil of her hair, and sniffed the air. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword. In a tongue that was as old as time itself she whispered to the dragon. He disappeared back beneath the veil of her hair, to curl even closer around her neck. They were near. She sensed that which she had been following for some time now, by instinct alone. She gave a press of her knee and the warhorse turned off the path and picked his way through the surrounding foliage.

What she saw before her was a man, down on one knee, resting his forehead on a sword. What she sensed was not what she saw and it confused her. Why had her instincts led her here, why to this man? Was he holding the dragon captive? Was it in a nearby cave within the rocky mountain that towered before them? She studied him, a slight frown creased her brow. There was something about him that caused something within her to wake. Something she always knew was there, but had never felt before.

Still ignorant to the presence of those behind him, Wyvren sighed in a guttural fashion and pushed himself upright. The moment he was on his feet he was almost rocked off his feet as something his his chest like a millstone. Gripping the hilt of his sword to steady himself he clutched at his chest, realizing the sudden weight had been the emblem around his neck where his name came from. Pulling it out of his shirt he studied it carefully, trying to remember a time hen it had ever felt so heavy before. With his mind drawing blank as usual, he pulled his sword free of the ground, sheathed it and turned slowly, brushing his hair away from his face with a hand before his icy-blue gaze fell on the rider.

The moment he laid eyes on her, that weight hit him again, causing him to grip the medallion tightly in a gloved fist. He didn't speak, no words came to him, but he narrowed his eyes, dark brows knitting together in a suspicious glance. He felt nothing threatening, no hostility of any kind, but there was something he couldn't place his finger on, something about the rider that had to be why his emblem was behaving the way it was. Without really thinking about it, the area about him started to cool again, this time slower, his stance wary of this person. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, it was just that what ever was happening hadn't occurred as far as he knew before, so he had his guard up in an instant.

She studied him for sometime, her presence still  unnoticed. The thought never entered her mind how a warhorse as large as Damien could go unnoticed. The very ground shook beneath his large hooves. Something about him seemed so familiar, yet she knew they had never met. His build, his dress, his long dark hair. She watched as he pushed himself upright with a sigh. She watched him seem to stagger a moment, then steady himself using the hilt of his sword. He pulled the sword free and sheathed it, then turned slowly.

She watched as his icy blue eyes took them in. She watched the narrowing of his eyes, the knitting of his brows, but she remained as she was. She had dealt with enough dragons in her lifetime to learn patience. His hand remained at his chest, his fist clinched. She sensed his confusion, his unease. She felt the temperature begin to drop. The large black warhorse snorted, his breath frosting in the newly chilled air. Her knees tightened around the barrel of the beast and he slowly began to back up. It was then that she looked into that icy blue gaze. Her eyes were a strange mixture of amber, brow and green. They appeared golden. Almost like fire compared to his icy blue gaze. As their eyes locked she became very aware of the amulet that rested against her skin, just below her clothing. She resisted the urge to reach for its growing warmth, not wanting to make any movements that would startle the man before her.

The great warhorse has retreated a few feet before he once again grew still at his masters command. Words were something she rarely spoke unless needed. She knew many languages but only one felt natural to her tongue. A warmth seemed to radiate from her, keeping his icy advance just out of reach. She took a deep breath, her eyes still locked with his. When she spoke the words came out as lyrical as a song. The sound of her voice filled the air with a sense of calm. "I mean you no harm. Are you all right?" she asked.

The encroaching cold subsided, the chilled air staying close around him rather than spreading out through the area. He knew not this woman, nothing about her was familiar at all, and yet..

"Other than being lost in this blasted forest for who knows how long, I'm fine. Wouldn't happen to know where the nearest settlement is would you?"

Even while trying to be polite, he held on to that almost regal arrogance to his way of talking, his stance relaxing some though the chill about him remained. He studied the woman carefully, trying to figure out just what it was that was off in this meeting. Releasing his grip on the medallion about his neck, he let his hand fall away, revealing it in all its draconian glory, the almost oppressive weight of the thing nearly making him bow his head.

"We've, never met. Have we?"

The beast relaxed once he had stepped out of the chill that seemed to surround this stranger, but his rider had not. Her own senses were being fed by the unease of the stranger before her. A stranger but something about him seemed familiar. The arrogance that seemed to come natural to him did not go unnoticed. As he studied her she seemed to stiffen, her own stance becoming more pronounced. Hers could not be called arrogant, perhaps not even regal. But there was a natural proudness that existed within her. And his scrutiny brought it out.

When he lowered his hand and revealed the medallion he has been gripping her eyes narrowed and the words left her lips before she realized she has spoken them. "Svaklar tira wux itrewic batobot?" At the sound of the ancient language, Gideon poked his tiny head from beneath the veil of her hair. The words rolled off her tongue in a hiss. "Thric" and the tiny dragon quickly disappeared. Her own hand raised to rest over her heart and she stared at the stranger in shock.

No answer to his question but one of her own aimed at him, and his head suddenly began to swim. Clutching at his temple like something had just struck him there, Wyvren grunted, swaying a little as her words unlocked a fragment of his mind, touching onto something he couldn't explain.

"Svanoa tir vucoti nomenes lexri?"

Without being consciously aware of it, he grumbled in the same ancient tongue, still holding his head as his mind reeled from the mental pain of a memory long forgotten and too fleet of lasting for him to grasp before fading away once more.

"Wha-, what did you say?"

His voice still held those tones, just as proud as hers, but now laced with the grunt of a pain he had never experienced before.

Her amber gaze darted over him as he suddenly seemed to become ill. His hand at his temple, she watches as he grunted and seemed unsteady on his feet. The words he spoke were spoken in draconic, but the question confused her. He understood what she had asked, even answered in the same tongue. But it was obvious he was not aware of what he had said. She cocked her head in confusion. This time she spoke to him slow and steady, as one would address a child. "Svanoa tir wux kampiun vur renthisj svabol wux tir ti vucot?"

Slowly she slid from the beast and moved towards him. It was obvious he was in pain and pain was something she could not ignore. Suddenly she was standing in front of him, her movements swift and silent. His hand still clutching at his temple, her own raised and was placed over his. Her touch warm and comforting. Her only thought was to heal that which pained him, if he allowed it. Her eyes searched his, her gaze like fire, his ice. Her other hand freed the pendent that was safely tucked beneath her shirt. She held it so that he would see it. Though it was smaller, it mirrored his own.

Again with the odd-sounding sentences, and again his head swum, forcing him to one knee as he fought to find any solid footing for his thoughts. Those razor-sharp splinters and shards of long-forgotten memories stabbed into his mind like shards of broken glass, the 'pain' so intense he had to hold his head with both hands lest it exploded on them both, or so it felt to him. He hadn't even noticed the woman dismount and approach, so lost within his own skull was he that his eyes were screwed shut and his ears stopped, trying to unsee and unhear what his mind was showing and telling him.

The woman's embrace, her scent, that strangely soothing sensation coming over him, slowed the maelstrom of his thoughts, enough so that he lowered his hands and slowly opened his eyes. That was when he saw the pendant she wore about her neck, and that was when his mind snapped completely, dropping him into the inky darkness of sudden unconsciousness. If only that had been all that happened.

Once out cold, Something else took him over, something primal and old. His skin started to show scales that turned his flesh a shade of deep, regal purple, and he began to exude the scent of the things she sought to aid. Dragons. Right before her eyes, he slowly began to change, his clothing stretching and starting to tear as his mass began to grow beyond that of a Human. His fingers and toes became clawed, his joints and bones making horrible sounds as they deformed themselves into those of the mightiest of Natures children. A tail began to form at the small of his back as what could only be horns and wings began to force their way from his shoulder-blades and temples.

In the space of a few minutes, she had gone from holding a man, to holding what was quite clearly a young Dragon, currently fifteen feet from tip to tip, with a wingspan easily double that. It lay on the ground, still seemingly unconscious, though its eyelids would continuously flutter from the dreams, or perhaps nightmares, he was currently trapped within. This did not last, the beasts eyes snapping open and its head turning to stare at the woman with large serpentine eyes the same shade as the mans. It did not fight her, but the stare was so intense it could have been gazing right into her soul for all that anyone knew.

Rayne felt the turmoil that raged inside him and it almost brought her to her knees. But she was use to healing dragons, a mere man should not effect her so. She finally felt a calming in him, his hands lowered, her own leaving his to come to rest at her side. She watched as his eyes slowly opened, his gaze fixed on the pendant she wore. Something in him broke and she felt him lose consciousness. She knelt down on one knee and placed her hand upon his arm, those fiery eyes studied his features with concern. Suddenly she jerked her hand away, as if burned. Standing quickly she moved back. Gideon hissing in protest, the tiny dragon stuck his head out. Only to retreat back into the safety of her thick flowing hair.

She watched in amazement as the man before her began to change. Now she understood why she was drawn to this man who was not a man at all. She had heard tales of changelings, the dragons even believed she was one. But she had never changed. She thought it all a myth, a fairy tale told deep within the lairs of the elders. She stared at the magnificent purple dragon that stood before her in awe. He was still unconscious, in some sort of deep, troubled sleep. His distress drew her closer and before she realized she had even moved she was touching the smooth scales of his neck. Her touch warm and soothing, her healing powers gently eased into him.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he turned his head to stare at her. Her own eyes met his and she was staring into eyes the same color as the mans had been. She met  his soul searching stare with a smile, her hand raised to caress along the side of his face. She showed no fear, she was more at ease with the dragon he had become then with the man she had originally found. She spoke in the soothing, musical voice of the charmer. Her words barely a whisper "Svaust re wux?" she asked in awe.

The young dragon continued to stare at the woman, though its countenance remained at peace in her presence. It's wings adjusted a little, its form resting on the ground as the woman's touch and voice, not to mention her gift, soothed it all the more. When she spoke at last, it met her fiery gaze with its icy cool one, its breath exhaling from its nostrils in chilled blasts before it replied in kind.

"Vucoti ti svaust, ergriff svabol."

It's voice was deep, resonant and reptilian in nature, that regal, austere tone of the man carried perfectly, if perhaps more naturally, by the throat and tongue of the beast. The soul-scouring stare relaxed, softening a little so now it merely scoured flesh from bone.

"Tir wux vucot svaust si mi?"

Even as a question it came across gruff, though the question came not only from the voice but the eyes of the young Dragon watching her intently.

She listened to his words and a sadness filled her fiery gaze, a deep sense of loss and longing seemed to over take her and for a moment she became the one in need. A moment of weakness, something she rarely exhibited. She slowly leaned against the magnificent dragon, seeking support. She recovered quickly and her own regal pride shown as she straightened to her full height and smiled at the dragon.

"Hak wux re desta stoda hak si." she took a step away from the dragon. As she continued to speak she removed the medallion from around her neck and placed it in her palm. There was a sense of loneliness in her words "Vucoti ti svabol si mi.." Her gaze met his. "Vucoti ti svaust wux re." Opening her palm she looked down at the medallion with such longing. "Vucoti ti svaust si mi." Then she held her hand out, palm up, the medallion displayed in all its finery for him to see. "Shar nomeno." she motioned towards the medallion with a slight nod of her head. "Nomeno ui shio si tepoha." her eyes locked with his. "Sia ergriff ganim ekess svaust si mi."

The young dragon watched and listened in solemn silence, feeling her suffering as easily as she had felt his Human selfs. The medallion caught his eye and he quickly began scanning the area, looking for something.

"Sia munthrek kiabil carries mishun vi trinket vur suffers wer diieson vrendikath lae wux. tepoha wux ocuirtor jacion? jaci jahus tenpiswo ti drong ago."

Looking to the ground, he sees the tattered remains of Wyvrens attire, snorting at it and looking around  with a  sense of growing concern.

"Tenamalo astahii re torn. Tiric jaci still hawg jacida ofilnarir persvek mishun ways. Si jalla gethrisj ehtah jacion, jaci ui hopeless ios ve lae jacida soves."

Looking back to the woman how ever, he delayed, the sense that perhaps it would be better to search with her rather than leave her here coming to mind.

"Geou wux letoclo ve vorq ihk jacion, bearer di wer pobon di vi darastrix quellar?"

She watched as he looked at the medallion she held then began scanning the area. She listened a bit surprised as she began to realize that the dragon did not know he was the man. Did the man know he was the dragon, she wondered as she watched him. When he saw the tattered remains of the mans clothes he snorted and looked around with greater concern. She could sense his worry and she laid a calming hand on him. Before she could speak his next words caught her off guard. “Mark of a dragon house?” she asked looking at him confused.

It was then she stepped back from him a bit, putting the medallion back around her neck, she tucked it safely beneath her shirt. She spoke to him calmly, offering him reassurance.

“Dout thurirl ui tokeq. Jaci tora ve ekess visp wux ekess itheik ihk jacion tenpiswo.” She took a chance, one she hoped would answer much.

“Jaci though wux janik qe yscik ekess letoclo ve ehtah ekik svaust si mi.” She continued speaking calmly, while inside she was full of questions, she forced herself to proceed slowly.

“Si tepoha thric jilinth, ergriff wer tagaji.” she replied, placing her hand over her heart where it rested safely. She looked at him pleadingly, so much hope showed in her fiery gaze. “Geou wux letoclo ve?

The regal beast listened to the woman as she made her request, then simply snorted and stared away.

"wux re vi poor yagpa, youngling. sjek si jahen yscik ekess letoclo, tir ti wux siofme si ornla tepoha letocloa jacion drong ghoros jaka? batobot mobi re jiil di wux, zyak clueless ekess dout kurjh heritage, ui banprivi astounding."

The dragon shook his head, venting chilled mist from his nostrils before staring at the woman again.

"svanoa ui coi wux vucot wer ooble svadrav jaci tiric ti? jaci tiric ti tangis vucot svadrav si mi zahae shar wux claim ekess kiwieg wer presence di hesi cirau."

His tone was mildly curious, and clearly at ease. The woman posed no threat to him, not if she were truly as hopelessly 'lost' as his traveling companion. The fact two such beings existed was a surprise, though since he could actually get a word in with this female, he would probe her for some answers of his own. So much easier to talk to someone that actually replied and didn't treat you as if you were nonexistent.