Ardaik 14th - Wallcastle Tops Mountain Range, Lorellia

"Is the way out far?" Rowan finally asked after they'd trekked through the dark in silence for longer than was comfortable for him.

"Right about here should do..." the dragon replied as she paused and turned toward what appeared to Rowan, as a solid wall of stone.

"Am I missing something?" Rowan asked as he stared at the cave wall that seemed no different from any of the others. There wasn't any opening, at least not big enough for him to fit through, much less the massive white dragon.

"You should probably stand back."

Before Rowan could ask why, she drove her colossal claws into the rock wall, prying a boulder free and tossing it aside. As she continued to dig, more chunks of rock were flung aside and Rowan scrambled out of the way to avoid being flattened.

She made quick work of the cave wall, forging a new passageway in minutes. Some of the less sturdy material collapsed on her, but it just rolled off as though it were nothing. Rowan supposed that any castle walls or stone defenses wouldn't stand a chance against her, and that was if she didn't decide to just fly over it. Now that he really thought about it, the fact that they had captured Kam at all, seemed entirely unlikely without magic being involved.

He entertained the idea of asking her about it for a moment, but before he could put words to his question, light poured into the cave as the dragon broke out the final layer.

"I suppose that's one way to avoid them..." Rowan remarked while he climbed up the shifting pile of rocks to escape the cave, but had to stop himself abruptly as he reached the top, forced to allow his eyes time to adjust to the light. The day was overcast, but even that compared to the void of the mountain caves was blinding.

The sight that met him once his vision had fully returned, was breathtaking. They'd come out somewhere just above the timberline, well above the pines that blanketed the side and foot of the mountains, affording him a clear view beyond them and into the forest and valleys below. Without the sun, it was hard for Rowan to tell the exact direction they were facing. Given that he saw no coastline, he assumed they must be facing toward the heartlands of central Lorellia; somewhere close to Recheston or maybe to his home, Boreven.

He nearly lost his balance when he saw the steep, rocky drop only feet from where he stood, edging himself closer to the dragon and instinctively reaching out to steady himself. It was now, in the light, that Rowan could also see the shimmer of color on her scales. Beyond just white, they had a reflective sheen, making each scale look reminiscent of a pearl.

The moment his hand touched her, the dragon lowered herself a little and looked back at him.

"You can't be serious..." Rowan breathed.

"Do you have a better way?" Kam wondered though she knew the answer already. Rowan swallowed thickly, before adjusting his pack and climbing up onto her back. This was worse than the ship's mast, much worse, and he felt his stomach lurch as the dragon pushed off the mountain and opened her wings.

It was a long minute before he felt able to look, and by then, they were in the lazy gray clouds, the ground below only visible through rare glimpses between the sea of fog and mist.

"How do you know where you're going if you can't see?"

"How do you know where your hand is if you can't see it? I don't have to see to know where north is. I can feel it."

Rowan supposed that made sense. Their pigeons could do the same; finding their way despite the weather or time of day, though it didn't feel right to compare a dragon to a pigeon...but then he was reminded of his question from earlier.

"How did you get trapped in the relic?" he asked. When Kam didn't respond right away, he was unsure whether he'd not been heard or if she was avoiding an answer. Finally, she replied.

"I was tricked...by someone I trusted."

"Betrayed," Rowan clarified, which got a slight glance back from the dragon.

"Yes. Betrayed."

After that, they flew in silence. The dragon's reaction made Rowan unsure if he wanted to continue to pry. At the same time, he was unable to think about anything else as they flew for the next few hours.

"How did you come to have the relic?" the dragon asked, drawing Rowan from his pondering.

"An accident," Rowan lied.

"Accident? How does one accidentally come into possession of something like that?"

"I suppose the same way someone accidentally lays their eggs in a mass grave," Rowan retorted harshly, but his snip didn't stop Kamuhr's questioning.

"So, not an accident then?"

"Why do you care?"

"Why do you?"

Rowan fell silent at that. What had happened on the boat had consumed his thoughts more than anything else lately. He should be dead...laying at the bottom of the ocean or perhaps floating along with some wreckage as food for the black whales and sharks. But he wasn't. He was alive, and somehow that was worse.

More hours passed by in silence, and the sky began to turn color while the wind chilled, but Rowan was lost deep in his own regrets. The slow and timely flap of the dragon's wings and the rush of wind had lulled him into a trance. He'd barely noticed the passage of time until he felt the dragon's entire body shift.

She slowed and brought them down below the clouds until they were just gliding a few feet above the treetops as she scanned for a place to land. The place she picked was on a rocky cliff near the top of a waterfall where the trees were just sparse enough for her to land.

Rowan dismounted in silence, the bundle of armor clattering to the ground as he abandoned it to go get a drink of water. The dragon seemed to have the same idea. Kamuhr followed him over and dipped her head down to drink as well. However, the moment Rowan noticed her, he stopped and stood up, as though he refused to share a drink with such a creature.

Kam lifted her head, watching the human in surprise as he stalked back toward the bundle of armor. He opened it and took out a piece of armor and tossed it over the cliff. Then he grabbed another and tossed that. Then another.

"What are you doing?" asked the dragon.

"These things belong to the dead and their families..."

"But they are dead. They have no use for them."

"They aren't mine!" Rowan shouted as he tossed another over the cliff, this time using a little more effort than was needed. "I don't expect a dragon to understand."

"Maybe you should start by explaining how stealing the relic was fine, but taking these things are not?"

Rowan suddenly tossed the entire rest of the pack over the cliff and turned. "You know what? Fight your own fight! I'm done! I'll find my own way."

Kamuhr watched in silence as Rowan stomped off into the dark shadows of the trees. The sun was already behind the mountains, and soon it would be night. How Rowan came by the relic, really wasn't of any concern to her. The only reason she'd pushed at all was Rowan's reaction. Clearly, it meant something to him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have reacted as poorly as he had, but she'd pushed too hard...

Rowan tore through the brush, forcing his way through the darkening woods, propelled by his anger. What right did a dragon have to judge his actions? Sure, he'd done some low things in his life, but he was still far above murdering entire villages and grave robbing...wasn't he?

In truth, it wasn't towards the white dragon that he directed his true loathing. It was at himself and every choice that he'd made since that fateful night. How blind and mindless he'd been to allow his feelings to dictate his actions. How recklessly he'd dealt with everything...especially the relic, and Sebastien, and most of all...Artus.

It was then that he heard the snap of a branch and the rustle of leaves behind him. He paused. For a moment, more rage built in his gut as he expected to see the dragon, but no. All his gaze found was the tangled black silhouettes of trees and foliage. Fear seeped in as he realized how little he could see around him. Suddenly he was straining to detect any other sign of movement or sound.

The evening breeze raced up his spine, chilling his blood as the leaves shifted again. His anger was gone in an instant, replaced by a primal dread that he found hard to swallow.

The moment that he spied a shadowy form as it leaped out from the brush at him, Rowan couldn't have regretted tossing away all of that armor and not keeping his sword more.

Rowan tried to dart out of the way, but fumbled in the dark and fell backward, the next thing he felt was the canine's jaws closing around his wrist like a vice. He screamed in pain and grabbed the first thing he found; a rock, and with all his might, slammed it into the side of the wolf's head.

The wolf let go, but to Rowan's horror, it didn't look any worse for wear. The pain in his arm was forgotten as he saw more shapes circling him. One wolf would have been bad enough, but there were at least three, maybe more, and he knew he stood about as much of a chance against them as a baby deer. Maybe less. At least a deer was used to living in the forest. Rowan was used to living in a manor; with servants and fluffed pillows, and the closest thing to wolves he'd even encounter were the foxes that he hunted on the weekends. But he didn't have time to think about any of that now. The circle of wolves was closing in around him, and with the scent of blood in the air, he didn't have much of a choice.

He ran.

As hard as he could, as fast as he could, he ran, which wasn't fast with all the branches, rocks, and roots, cloaked in the darkness at every turn.

The wolves on the other hand, effortlessly bounded through, around, and over the obstacles. Rowan could feel them closing on him. His foot hit a rock wrong and he twisted his ankle in the wrong direction. The next thing he knew, he was tumbling end over end down the hillside. The ground punished him painfully until he finally landed on a rocky shore next to the river. Every inch of him was covered in mud and ached as he forced himself up.

The hill had been so steep that wolves were still navigating their way down to him as he considered his options.

Swim or face them.

With the last of his strength, Rowan picked up a long piece of driftwood that had been sanded on the stones and bleached by the sun. It was the only weapon he had as the wolves caught up to him, and this time there was no circling. They were coming in for the kill.

The first wolf lunged and connected with the wood. While Rowan was fighting with it over the stick, another bit him in the leg. He let out a desperate scream that was half a cry of rage and frustration.

Was this what he deserved? To be torn apart and eaten alive by wolves? No. This couldn't be it! And then, as if he'd summoned it through sheer will alone, he heard the same sound he'd heard when he'd been pulled from the depth. Kamuhr's shrieking, haunting roar rattled through the cliffside as she landed beside Rowan, scattering the wolves to the safety of the forest with nothing more than her presence and her voice.

In an instant, his struggle was over, and Rowan was still in shock as he let the branch fall from his hand to the ground with a soft "thunk". He turned back to look toward the dragon before falling forward and wrapping his arms around her.

"...It's my fault," Rowan said, sometime later. They'd tended to his wounds and started a fire shortly before it began to gently rain. Just one of Kamuhr's wings was enough to shield Rowan from the rain as they sat next to the fire together. "I told him that I wouldn't leave his side and I—Well I couldn't even do that right," he said, as he turned the relic over in his hand.

"He'll forgive you."

"Heh... You sound so sure."

"Because I am," the dragon replied before adding. "If you'd prefer...we could go find him."

"What about Auganull?"

"We'll find each other eventually... We always do."