by Natalie Wish
It was so new, to be a part of the Crystals. The words of thanks for everything stuck somewhere in his throat and he followed after his clanmate in silence.
They stepped out of the Dungeon and went off the mansion’s grounds before they stopped to discuss what they should do.
“What’s the plan?” Weix asked and Xanran winced.
“I was planning to just... ask around.” He shrugged. “There’s a possibility that having the opportunity to meet him is just a question of... making myself available.”
Weix frowned.
“You mean that he will find you.”
“He is a Black Market...” Xanran stopped himself and closed his eyes for a second, before correcting himself. “An ex-Black Market Boss. Even if he isn’t in a position of power anymore - and we aren’t sure of that - he still has the skills to track someone down if he wants. Or people that he can hire to do so.”
“I don’t like this. Playing on his rules like that,” Weix muttered. “What if I can find him first?”
Xanran blinked, surprised.
“Can you?”
“There’s a... possibility. I can perform a divination that may lead us to him. But usually I need something belonging to the person I’m searching for, or to know the person well and even then it’s not always a guaranteed success.”
“I don’t have anything of his.” And why did that make him sad?
“I assumed so. But I think we may have a chance to trick the spell into targeting the person you think about if we merge our powers.” He huffed a laugh. “Like the good old times when I was teaching you.”
Xanran couldn’t help himself and he leered.
“Like the good old times?” He knew he wasn’t the only one thinking about how he fed Weix his own cum during those sessions, when the cleric’s cheeks darkened with a flush.
“Oh, shush.” Weix slapped his shoulder in admonishment. “I believe you can control your draconic magic better than to need such help now.”
“Yeah, probably.” Xanran grinned unrepentantly, finally relaxing a bit at the familiar banter.
They found themselves in the shrine of Akhera, the dragon goddess of Protection, that was the source of Weix’s power. She wasn’t one of the most popular gods to worship - elven and human gods of a similar domains had more believers - but in such a big city, even the small gods had their place. As her cleric Weix was welcomed with open arms and given not only a place to perform the ritual, but the components for the spell as well.
The array was set, the candles burning, the weird herbs and what looked like emerald dust offered to the goddess and Xanran held Weix’s hand tightly as he merged his draconic magic with that of his friend. The other man’s senses flooded his own. Smell first, with the scent of incense heavy in the air, then touch, the feel of cradling a different hand than before. Next followed sight, then hearing, and lastly, taste. He was completely connected to Weix, feeling what he felt, as the other man’s magic raised, an alien note to it, like an aftertaste he didn’t expect.
Rodner. He thought furiously, picturing the muscular elf, his soft smile, his figure sitting at the desk, sighing at the stack of papers. His dangerous expression, that he loved so-
He pictured an angry face calling him a traitor. A strong body stung like a bow. Those grey eyes that bore into him with disgust. That was how he looked now.
The connection frayed suddenly when he felt his (Weix’s) hand no longer touching him. He let himself return to his body. They had to be done.
“Did it work?” he asked as soon as he could move his lips, even before his sight returned to its proper place.
“Better than I thought.” Weix nodded. “Akhera must like you. I spotted one of the shop signs I know. Making meals for you has unexpected advantages it seems.”
The two dragons went on a hunt.
The area Weix spotted was only a few minutes away, but by that time they got there Rodner was gone. But that was alright. Xanran sent forth a swift bird to keep an eye on their target and the crow reported back that the elf had disappeared inside one of the taverns.
Xanran stood outside the inn debating internally if it would be better, if possible, to approach the man in private, or if they should do so in public. He decided to just see how the dice fell and entered the building.
Xanran saw him first, sitting alone at one of the tables in the back, alone, nursing a tankard of beer, his hand propping up his head. He was looking at the table and hadn’t spotted them yet. Xanran gulped and strode forward, trying to not let his hands shake.
He plopped himself down in the free chair and the elf still didn’t look up, just growled at him.
“Piss off. I don’t want company.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” he retorted, tipping back his chair in a casual pose, as if this was just a friendly dinner.
Rodner’s head jerked up and he looked at him with wide eyes. Then he visibly composed himself and studied Xanran, staying silent.
“So, I’m going to have to talk, is that it? That’s fine, you talked enough.” The chair made a thud as he leaned forward. “First, I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath in. “I realize now that whatever we expected to happen back then was a naïve assumption of untrained adventurers. But I really thought I was... helping.”
“Helping?” Rodner ended his silence to ask with disbelief.
Saainren cringed but continued.
“That night... I overheard you talking to Councilman Gerande. From that conversation I suspected you were involved in the trade of the drug... and that when you learned it was being used on residents of Beggar’s Town as a poison, you did everything you could to stop it. But it sounded like Gerande had too much power over you, the way he blackmailed you into compliance I thought you may not be able to work against him...”
“I was in a corner. But you should have known by then that a cornered dog bites the hardest.”
Xanran just nodded, at this point believing that the whole thing may have gone better without his involvement. But he couldn’t change the past, so he continued. “When I was caught snooping by Saainren and Rogan, I agreed to help them. I had to know. I’m sorry Rodner, but I had to know... I couldn’t just stand aside and watch you fall apart while you kept it all from me.”
“Do you think you were entitled to know everything? That you were worth sharing my woes with you?” Rodner asked sharply.
“Was that really the reason you didn’t tell me?” Xanran asked. Just two days ago he would bet anything that it wasn’t the reason for it, but now...
Rodner shifted and avoided his eyes.
“Was it?”
Rodner’s fist slammed on the table.
“Of course, it wasn’t! I cared about you and didn’t want to put you in danger!”
Xanran looked Rodner in the eye, holding his gaze with his own, begging him to understand.
“So did I. I cared about you. But I knew you were already in danger. I had to do something.” His hand on the table shook slightly. “I thought that telling Lady Areen about the whole thing would help you. That she could counter her fellow council member’s influence and bring him to justice. I told her you were doing everything in your power to not let those terrible things happen, that you were used by Gerande, that you were fighting against him.” His breath hitched. “I thought she believed me. She told me she may find a common language with you... I thought... I thought...”
“She lied to you,” Rodner said gently and Xanran realized there were tears running down his face.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” He said, miserable. “But I hurt you anyway. I hurt you so much.”
“Yes, but I hurt you too.”
Xanran sniffed.
“What are you talking about? You just said you didn’t let me in to protect me. It’s incomparable to what I did to you.”
&nb
sp; “I meant yesterday,” Rodner said quietly, some of that poise Xanran remembered returning to the man. “I only realized after...” He looked at Xanran, something hopeless in his eyes. “Those three... they took care of you? Helped you through it?”
Xanran’s lower lip wobbled.
“You care. You still care.”
“Of course, I do.” The man smiled sardonically. “It wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t.”
∞∞∞
Rogan slept fretfully. He woke up with a start in the middle of the night. He turned on his back carefully, to not jostle the still recovering dragon at his side. Only Xanran wasn’t there. He pushed down his panic and took a moment to look for him first. Not in the bathroom. Not in the dining room. Not in any of the rooms they had access to.
Well, that meant he could panic after all.
“Saainren.” He woke the prince up, shaking his shoulder. The jostling woke up Mexi who was cuddling to their leader, as well.
They both looked at him blearily.
“What is it?” Saainren asked, while Mexi’s question sounded more like “Mmphf?”
“Xanran is gone.”
That had an effect equal to throwing a bucket of freezing cold water at them.
Mexi swore colorfully, while they all scrambled to dress themselves.
Xanran’s boots and other favorite garments vanished from the room, so Rogan was pretty sure the blasted lizard had run away while they were sleeping.
Straight into danger!
Alone!
(Because you left him alone with this, didn’t you? - his mind supplied)
They gathered themselves and were ready to exit the Dungeon when a disgruntled Vitorous appeared.
“You lot just can’t let me sleep, can you?” he grumbled. “First that boy of yours and now you all.”
Rogan was next to the mage in a flash, hand gripping the front of his sleeping robes.
“You let him go and didn’t wake any of us?” he asked, fuming.
The mage looked at the violent hand menacingly clutching his night clothes and then at him coldly, not giving an answer.
A warm hand settled over his, prying his fingers away from the fabric.
“Do you know where he went?” Saainren asked, always the diplomat, deescalating the confrontation.
“No idea. Except that we are all surely aware who he went to find.” Vitorous shrugged.
“He is out there alone with a guy that may want to kill him,” Mexi summarized shakily.
“He’s not alone.” Vitorous waved their concerns away, “I sent Weix with him.”
“Oh, thank gods,” Mexi breathed with relief.
“No need to thank gods, when I am here.”
Rogan truly wanted to punch that holier-than-thou attitude out of Vitorous, but he had more pressing matters.
“I will thank you only if we get Xanran back safe and sound.”
“Suit yourself. I’m going back to sleep.”
While the mage returned to his quarters, they made their way outside.
And were promptly attacked by a raven.
At least, that’s what Rogan thought was happening when he nearly got a wing to the face. Fortunately, he caught the sight of the rolled piece of parchment attached to the leg of the bird. He straightened his arm and the raven landed on it dutifully, its claws closed over the layer of fabric covering his forearm, but his mind was too occupied with the note to pay attention to the pinpricks of pain.
Mexi helped extract the message and Saainren read it out loud to all of them.
“Talking with Rodner. With Weix. No danger. Be back.”
Rogan should be relieved at this message, but the thing was... sometimes Xanran lied. Or pretended. Just like he could now see the dragon did during their meal, when he seemingly agreed with them to not pursue this path and forgo talking with the ex-Black Market Boss.
Rogan would not let himself relax until he could see the man with his own eyes and assure himself of his physical and emotional well-being.
“Can you track him with the collar?” he asked Saainren, but the blonde shook his head.
“The spell only activates when it’s taken off. As long as the collar stays unopened around his neck, I have no way of using it to find him.”
“So, what? Are we staying here and doing nothing?” Mexi asked, his lips pressing together in a grimace. “I mean, he’s with Weix and the dude is awesome, but I still worry...” he trailed off uncertainly.
Rogan was about to put in his two coppers, but then he glanced at the bird still perched on his arm. Shouldn’t it already take flight after completing the mission?
“Hey, the bird is... still here?” he pointed out, eyeing the wild animal that stared at him with his unnerving black beady eyes.
Saainren gasped as if he realized something and scrambled for a quill and parchment that he always carried with him.
Ah.
Could they really send a message back?
Well, they certainly could try.
Sure enough the raven left them, swiftly carrying a message to the druid that commanded it and with it Rogan’s hope as well.
∞∞∞
Weix took Rodner not seeing he and Xanran enter together as an opportunity to remain incognito. He sat at a nearby table when the dragon went to confront the ex Black Market dealer, keeping watch and subtly eavesdropping on their conversation.
It seemed there was a lot of misunderstanding and the saying “a road to hell is paved with good intentions” was particularly relevant. Nevertheless, they got some kind of resolution from their talk, if them reminiscing about the good old times was any indication.
In fact, Xanran was so engrossed in the conversation he had to be reminded of something.
Weix rose from his seat and got Xanran’s attention by touching his shoulder.
“You should let them know you are alright,” Weix prompted, not missing the dark stare from the muscular elf.
“Shit, you are right,” Xanran swore. “Rodner this is my clanmate, Weix.”
He started murmuring under his breath, considering how he could inform his lovers of his continued well-being while Weix was locked in a staring contest with Rodner, the elf’s gaze darkening further at the mention of the Dragon Clan.
Weix didn’t know what his problem was.
“Hello,” he greeted politely and got a terse nod in return.
“Aha! I know what I can do!” Xanran stood up energetically, nearly knocking into the table. “Wait for me for a moment guys. I need to send a message.”
He left them alone in an uncomfortable silence.
Weix seated himself at the table, folding his hands in front of himself, unthreatening, but definitely in the other man’s space.
“So, you are from Xanran’s Clan,” Rodner started the conversation and Weix couldn’t quite decipher his expression.
“Yes,” he replied simply. “I’m the second in the Clan,” he offered.
“You know, Xanran never really told me what you people did to him that he felt the need to run away from his Clan.”
Ah, that explained the death stare.
“He wasn’t up to the standards of the Ink Clan.”
Rodner’s hand clenched on his mug.
“Since he left, I think it was the Ink Clan that wasn’t up to standard.”
“Oh no, he didn’t leave. He was casted away.” Weix waited another second to admire that stormy rage that was brewing, before he smiled and finally put the man out of his misery. “Fortunately, the Crystal Clan knows the worth of his skills and his friendship.”
The smuggler blinked at him then narrowed his eyes, studying his expression.
Weix gave him a honest smile, he didn’t have to protect himself from those accusations because he did nothing wrong.
> “You... are from the Crystal Clan.” It was a statement and not a question, but Weix answered anyway.
“Indeed I am. Xanran is a very fresh member of my Clan, but I’m already quite protective of him.”
“Then we understand each other.”
And they did.
After getting something like approval from the other man, and bonding over their mutual hatred of the peacockish Ink Clan, the conversation flowed much better.
They were discussing the best place to buy baked goods in the city when Xanran returned, his task fulfilled.
“Crystal Clan, eh?” Rodner didn’t miss a beat before he asked bluntly.
Xanran colored slightly, his hand going behind his head in a sheepish gesture.
“Yeah. There’s no accounting for taste, eh?”
Weix knew it was supposed to be a disparaging comment about Xanran himself, but he wasn’t having it.
“Alas, you have to suffer through our fortnightly singing sessions and the beer that’s not up to your standard.”
Xanran colored more.
“I mean- I wasn’t-” he spluttered.
“Don’t worry.” Weix patted his hand. “I know you are doing it for the bunnies.”
“Bunnies?” Rodner asked, his tone lifting in amusement.
“It’s only one bunny!” Xanran protested, then turned to Weix. “How can you use BunBun against me like that!”
“BunBun?” The elf was visibly holding in his laughter by a shred now.
“Mm,” Weix confirmed. “His son as he claims. And as for the only one bunny... I got a letter yesterday and didn’t have the time to tell you yet.”
He leaned towards the spooked dragon and whispered conspiratorially, making sure it would be loud enough for Rodner to hear.
“Congratulations. You are a grandfather.”
Rodner couldn’t stop laughing for a long time at Xanran’s stunned expression.
He looked quite nice when he smiled.
∞∞∞
Saainren jerked when he heard a voice in his head.
Join us at the Pearls Before Swines Inn, Grey District. We are fine.