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"The Draken girl?  Oh, hm⌠well, it seems sheâs yet to fall prey to the expectations that people place on her kind.  I donât know her terribly well, but I feel like she has an eye for wonder and new experiences and new people.  Her pride has not yet consumed her, if indeed she has such an ugly thing inside her at all.  That sort of viewpoint seems woefully lacking here.
"That said, she seems very, very impressionable. Â I would hope she is more discerning about the company she keeps in the future, but Iâm not holding my breath. Â Would that she spend more of her time with Astoreth than either of her sisters, and Nexus would be better for it. Â The world does not need another Ejava."
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Two AU ideas immediately jumped out at me for this. Â I had every intention of writing the one that is vastly more depressing, but given my mood today, I did this one instead. Â Itâs longer than I wanted it to be. Â Hope you like it!
ashmaw-ooc
âROSTINE!â
Gentle daylight pierced the stained-glass windows, scattering brilliant reds and golds and greens across the master bedroom. Â It was probably close to noon, based on the angles. Â Whoeverâd used the bed last left chaos in their wake, and it was all tangled sheets and nested pillows. Â Wait â did the pile just stir? Â Was there actually someone under there?
âLORD ROSTINE! Â SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!â
The exquisite double doors were practically thrown off their hinges. Â âKyner!â hissed Ejava, skittering across the floor. Â Her tail swept away discarded clothing as she went. Â âKyner! Â What are you doing?â
âMm.â Â A pale limb jutted out of the bedâs dressings; a miscalculated kick.
âGet up!â she snarled, starting to claw at the thick comforter. Â âTheyâre here, you idiot!â
The comforter snagged under some resistance. Â âWhoâs here?â it seemed to murmur, retreating back to the center of the bed.
âThe Draken!â Â She redoubled her efforts.
A pillow was disturbed, revealing a glimpse of white hair. Â He quickly tugged it back in place. Â âYour sisters?â
âNo! Â The Draken from last night! Â The ones you said were weaned on Aurin milk as pups!â Â Her face twisted in frustration and poorly masked contempt. Â âOr did you forget about that with all you had to drink?â
The pile gave a noncommittal sound.  â⌠have Xocoyol tell them to leave.  Or do it yourself.â
âKyyyyner,â she whined, thumping the linens with her fists. Â That elicited another groan. Â âThey insulted my honor! Â You must destroy them.â
He sighed. Â âI canât. Â Iâm hungover, and I have a headache.â
âYou always have a headache!â  She walloped the spot she thought his head may have been with a throw pillow.  âGET OUT OF BED YOU ANEMIC LITTLE WORM!â
A gangly figure tumbled out of bed, presumably in an attempt to escape her wrath. Â Kyner screwed his eyes up tight again the light; his head felt like it was going to split open. Â âIâm up,â he muttered.
A trio of Draken stood on the immaculately groomed lawn. Â Their bodies hung with heavy ropes of muscle, and their weapons were great and forged from the bones of great beasts. Â When their hosts stepped out to meet them, they exchanged glances and snickered amongst themselves.
Ejava was as beautiful, lively, and spiteful as ever, but the man she was propping up at her side looked even more pathetic than he had the night before. Â His white hair was long and wild â though it somehow still managed to hide his right eye perfectly â and his angular face was rough with two daysâ stubble. Â He only wore a pair of pants and a cloak over his shoulders, apparently not having the time or coordination to get fully dressed, and he barely seemed capable of walking a straight line. Â The ensemble did a woefully poor job of masking his physical deficiencies.
âLord Rostine,â grumbled the head of this pack, who had massive horns and a tally scratched into his right pauldron.  It was fairly extensive, as far as tallies went.  âGood of you to join us.  Perhaps you are not a coward and simply a fool; or did the woman you are so clearly undeserving of drag you out here, to salvage what is left of her dignity?â
Ejava flashed a viperâs smile at them.  âInsolent whelps!  Cretins!  Fucking fools, all of you.â  She traced the tips of her claws along the Cassianâs slender chest.  âEjava of Dunemaw and Kyner of Rostine do not suffer threats from mewling little salamanders.  Make demands of us, and you will only get your bloody, still-beating heart in your hand as a reply.â
The troupe didnât seem terribly impressed; in fact, the one farthest in the back barked out a genuine and very ugly laugh. Â Ejavaâs hand vanished inside the cloak and withdrew a medishot. Â She jabbed it into Kynerâs neck, engaged the delivery mechanism, and the 20 milliliters of clear fluid were gone in a soft hiss. Â Then she shoved him forward with both hands, and he barely caught his balance in time.
The Draken seemed unsure of what to make of all this â was she offering him up as a sacrifice, or something? Â Their leader grinned and hoisted his sword, and then it was no longer in his hands â no, it was orbiting around the Cassianâs wrist, like an oddly shaped, fine-edged satellite. Â Heâd called it there, beckoned it with a finger, and itâd been like pulling an invisible string. Â Both the lackeys gaped as Kyner rotated it in smooth circles, tilting his hand, as if testing the weight of the six-foot sword.
âYou⌠you feeble little⌠human.â  Rage painted the Drakenâs features as he bared his sizeable teeth.  âWe will break your bones!  We will drink your blood!  We will take your wards for ourselves!  And when there is nothing left of you but your wretched, stinking soul, even that we will commit to Shezka for a millenium of torment!â  He roared, flinging spittle in every direction.  âGIVE ME BACK MY BLADE.â
Behind Kyner, Ejava hopped from one foot to the next, bristling with anticipation. Â She looked very excited about something. Â âHere,â said Kyner, his tone disinterested and distant. Â âHave it.â
He made a sweeping upward gesture with his arm, and it all went away. Â The Draken, his sword, Kynerâs cloak â the nearby bushies, potted plants, cobblestones â all of it rocketed skyward, first tens, then hundreds of feet into the air. Â A series of intricate gestures brought the massive weapon to life, and as they soared, it indulged its violent desires against the helpless forms of its master and his clanmates.
What returned to the ground was mostly gore and property damage, along with the scattered weapons and armor.  Their leader was still alive, and for a brief moment, Kyner held sympathy for him.  That was not a clean cut.  Apparently he really did have a lot to drink last night, not that he remembered much of it.  He stalked forward and knelt next to the mostly-held-together Draken.
âDominus calls your spirit home,â he said, and placed a cool hand on the scaly forehead. Â It was covered in sweat. Â Kyner knew the look in his eyes â that reckoning of oneâs own end. Â âWill you take His hand?â
âG-Go⌠to⌠hell,â groaned the Draken, and spit his lifeblood in the Cassianâs face.  When he reached up to wipe his face with a bare hand, effectively smearing it across his features, he caught a glimpse of his other eye⌠except an eye it no longer was, ruined, and all his hair seemed to hide now were a trio of scars that looked like stalker claws.
âVery well. Â May your gods be more merciful than I.â Â He broke his neck with the snap of his fingers.
âYESSSSSS!â Â Ejava howled from where sheâd been standing, about ten yards away. Â âNEVER FUCK WITH US! Â NEVER FUCK WITH USSSS!â Â She clapped her hands and sneered at the groundskeeper who appeared, visibly shaken. Â âYou. Â Clean all this up.â Â She gestured vaguely to the assorted viscera and ran over to embrace Kyner, where they shared a fierce â if brief â kiss.
Then he slipped away from her, and began to hobble back toward the manor house. Â âWhere are you going?â asked Ejava with a blink. Â âGoing to get washed up, I hope. Â We have a function in two hours.â
He sighed and pushed back his hair, leaving bright red streaks. Â âNo. Â Iâm going back to bed.â
The stalker snarls and rises to her feet. Â âShe is beautiful and fierce! Â She is indestructible! Â I will rend and destroy any who dare say otherwise. Â The artist is not worthy of her. Â None are worthy of her. Â She is impeccable. Â Flawless.â Â Her lip trembles, and something dangerous broods in her slit blue eyes. Â âEveryone loves her â so many that she cannot keep count. Â So many she grows annoyed. Â She is perfect. Â Fucking perfect.â Â She grabs her glass and stalks off towards a table in the back. Â âNo one talks shit about my baby sister.â