Vylon, one titled Queen, Aliased Rend, growls a warning, “Watch it!”

I refrain from telling him it’s hard to watch anything with his massive muscular bulk in the way. I’d be fibbing if I did anyway, since I don’t rely entirely on sight. I flash him an apologetic half smile, while my eyes glare towards his in a display that says, “Don’t mess with me right now.”

The big-boned, heavily-muscled, round, golden, wall of a man with the smoothly shaved head huffs grumpily, and sets his left hand on my left shoulder to tug me aside, past him, into the room as he tries to head down the hallway. I don’t want to set a precedent for being shoved around as part of some power dynamic within the Order, so I feel like I should resist. Instead of resisting however, I stop myself with telekinesis abruptly during his pull, and he grunts in surprise at his inability to move me. I flash him a more dangerous glare after he attempts a second time, almost breaking my telekinetic hold on myself. He doesn’t quite have the leverage, but he’s certainly got the strength to do it one-handed.

Vylon pauses his attempts to move me, and he catches my gaze with at least a hint of abashedness, so I nod my head in acknowledgment as I float aside and say, “I am sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, and that is most definitely my fault. But, please endeavor to treat others with the respect you’d like to be treated with.”

Vylon offers a, “Pah,” as he lumbers past me.

I sigh internally, allowing myself to mentally roll my eyes about the exchange. I make note that I find it a bit humorous that I quoted what some call the golden rule to an elder gold dragon. Between the humor, and the exasperation, I shake my head in meatspace, finding myself now face to face with Vyela, his twin, the other Queen, Aliased Sunderer. I sarcastically think, “Great,” to myself before raising an eyebrow her way, while I make certain I’m clear of her path.

Vyela comments, “Not smart.”

I inhale as if to sigh exasperatedly, but think better of it as I respond, “My apologies. I hope your brother is alright. I look forward to working with you both on the battlefield.”

This earns me a raised brow from the heavy-set, massively-muscular, golden, smooth-shaven, wall of a woman. I respond in kind, as we stare at each other with curiously raised brows. Is this a staring contest? Am I seriously getting into a staring contest with one of the people who are quoted as being the most ferociously combat capable beings on Rayileklia? Is it petty that I kind of want to win?

My eyes are still sore from crying empathetically for Kinzul’s losses, but I could keep them open telekinetically if I really wanted. I chuckle and begin shaking my head at myself, breaking the stare, and blinking. This earns me more curiosity from Vyela’s glare, but she motions as if asking if she can pass by me, instead of rudely shoving me aside. I respond to her courteousness affirmatively and make way, nodding and smiling happily towards her. She doesn’t return the smile, but she watches me for a moment over her shoulder as she passes by.

The only thing uttered by Vyela as she passes by is a gutteral acknowledgment, “Mn.”

That could have gone better. Lil quips telepathically, “Not by much pal! They’re mega aggro types, mega mega mega aggro. You did pretty good not getting into a fight. I’m honestly surprised there wasn’t a brawl yet. Pretty sure they’re going to challenge you later. Probably a week from now at most”

My eyes flash wide in a moment of shock, and I shoot a brow raised in curiosity towards Kinzul, only to become dismayed when I see her nod in confirmation of Lil’s assertion. Well crap. I’ve literally been told that they’re better than everyone else on the planet, at least everyone in our alliance, or darn near it, and if their human forms are any indication of their dragon forms, they’re going to be massive walls of muscle, heavily armored, and surprisingly quick. Can I afford the downtime that’s sure to result from such a distraction? They’re going to seriously injure me, unless I go for the kill, because I have nothing that could put down such a foe without causing death, and it would be stupid of me to kill anyone that powerful on our side.

Kinzul radiates mirth momentarily before asking telepathically, “You feel confident that if you went into battle with the desire to slay, that you would be the victor?”

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek as I ponder, I ramble in response, “They’re golds, so probably breathe fire, right? That’s one ace up my sleeve, and surprise for them unless you’ve already apprised them. From there, it’s all about abusing my options for mobility to get into a position where I can deliver a decisive strike, which would be a death blow, if I used the right spell. The only problem would be surviving long enough to find an opening to get into position. So, no, not exactly confident I’d be the victor, but less positive that I’m going to be a walking bruise after.”

I continue to think about the possibility of having to fight either Queen, and then facepalm, because it dawns on me that I’d probably be facing both at once. It’s still about abusing my mobility, but I’ve got even less chance of surviving long enough to get into position to take one of them down, let alone two of them. I’ve never seen them fight, so I don’t know their tactics, or abilities. For all I know, they rend and sunder the very air, leaving cutting waves all around a battlefield that would tear me to shreds if I walk into them.

Could I just play on their pride, and force it to be a non physical duel? If I accept their challenge, but then cockily say something like, “If your breath weapon manages to more than tickle me, I’ll concede the duel,” I could take the heat for a few seconds, concede, and then everyone can go home happy. I know I’m not walking home with a win, no matter what, unless I frame it in a way that abuses my assets without direct confrontation, and my goal isn’t to win, it’s to walk away. I wonder if I could just turn down their challenge? What kind of dynamic would that promote?

I’m mildly concerned at the continued mirth I sense from Kinzul’s telepathic wavelength. I suppose it’s better than dismay. I’d expect she would warn me if I were going to get myself killed by our own allies. She doesn’t seem concerned, or worried at all. What about Teuila? Is she going to be challenged too? Or is it just me? Wait, maybe it can be an indirect show of strength, like, we just each take turns smashing rocks and boulders that are bigger and bigger, until one of us can’t break one, then the other contender wins. Could I get them to agree to something so simple, that they’ll definitely win?

Teuila chimes in, “You worry too much Airhead. I’m sure Aunty Zool would put a stop to anything bad. It’s gonna be fine. Come meet these sweeties, the Dormy doormouse whatsit. Paradox Dormir, that’s it.”

I sigh belatedly, shaking my head still at the concept of just waving off being challenged by the most skilled combatants on the planet, that also happen to be massive, ancient gold dragons. Glancing around, I spy Teuila, and The Paradox Dormir, the group that contains Iylynila, Farzhis, Induul, and Veril.

I catch wind of Veril seemingly retorting in the midst of a conversation, “Okay then wise guy, who are *you* more scared of having to fight?”

Induul, in a voice as suave as any swashbuckling Fakeworld cinema rogue responds, “The Damnations, obviously. Any one of them. Each one is supposed to be about as powerful as both of our Queens put together, and there’s seven of them, and they travel as a pack. That’s if they travel at all. I say, we hope they happen to be somewhere else when we fight Terrorzin, and just don’t care enough if we kill the old Tenpenny Teapot, to keep up the war, and instead, go back to terrorizing their own little domain. I’d rather none of us face them at all. The things they can do—“

Induul shudders as he lets the sentiment hang on the air, and the rest of The Paradox Dormir follow suit, eliciting a shiver from me as well. This is one of our preeminent fighting forces, especially among the untitled, and un-Aliased, and hearing that we have foes that strike this level of fear into their hearts is frightening on a lot of levels. Their group as a whole has a title, empowered by Kinzul’s dragonforce, so they do have some sort of investment into their power. Sure, it’s the subtler, most dynamic of our groups, specializing in skullduggery and infiltration to fight priority targets behind enemy lines, but these are still some of our best. They’re the ones that fight the leaders and the generals most of the time, while we’ll have the bulk of our forces applied to the fore, keeping the foes’ main, numerous hordes busy.

With the new knowledge I have about our secret ace, it makes more sense that we have several teams like this. Until Lil’s admission, I didn’t know how they, or The Paradox Vivant, were supposed to get behind enemy lines. The Paradox Vivant is flashier, they’re probably supposed to go in through the front and blitz a hole through enemy lines, but their goal is to still head straight for the powerful commanders at the back, and so on. It makes sense, for their names to be paired up, with them capable of being a pincer when combined. Sadly, we’ll be staging multiple battles simultaneously some of the times, and so they likely won’t have the support of the other team in every skirmish. At least, that’s as close as I can figure, based on the sheer numbers that Terrorzin has, something like eight times the entire number of all of the dragonkin who reside in Kinzul’s domain, and they’re all conscripted fighting forces.

Teuila waves me over, while the Dormir are having their discussion, and I notice Luni headed this way as well. Before I sit down to get to know the crew of The Paradox Dormir, I pull out the two sweetstone covered dough gobs that I saved for Luni and Teuila.

Teuila immediately upon hearing me mention sweet, and dough, telepathically orders, “Ooo gimme gimme!” while her telepathic avatar makes grabby hands.

I can’t help chuckling and shaking my head incredulously as I hand it over in meatspace, tossing it into her waiting, cupped hands. I hand Luni hers as well, which earns me a soft smile from Lu. Teuila devours hers in an instant, despite having had to open wide to even fit it in her mouth, while Luni takes bites out of her fist-sized dough gob. I’d saved the biggest two for last, hopefully they’re moist all the way through, with no surprise pockets of dry flour like some of the ones I’d eaten. We didn’t exactly have cooking oils or mixing bowls or anything.

Luni kisses my cheek and whispers, “It’s sweet,” in my ear, then, realizing the vagueness of her statement, she adds, “the sentiment. Thank you for sharing.”

Since Luni and Teuila were both close enough to telepathically ride my entire conversation and interaction with Xayla, I guess I didn’t need to explain anything to them. As I’m about to sit, Luni makes a point of asking me in meatspace, “Tonight, can we be alone together for a while?”

This earns me several glares, noises of surprise, and even a whistle or two, from the assembled around the table. I wonder what the heck Lu is up to. She knows I’d make time for her any time, but why announce it so close to all these people? I know Teuila doesn’t care, except for the fact that she doesn’t get to snuggle up to Lu or me during that time, but Te’ll probably busy herself with training, or find her “Lil dragbutt” to snuggle. Lu, how overt do you need to be with my acquiescence?

Since Luni floods a private wavelength with intense emotions, I figure I’d better make it clear. I stand, bow towards Luni, bring her right hand to my lips to kiss it, and say, “I’d be honored Lu, my Muse. It’s been too long since the last time.”

Is that good enough Lu? Luni leans forward on her tiptoes to kiss me softly on the cheek, at the corner of my lips, for an extended moment. This earns more than its fair share of additional murmurs, “oos” and whistles as well. I fight myself to stop from licking my dry lips, so that I don’t accidentally lick Luni’s face. Luni giggles, and skips away, leaving the feasting hall.

I make certain that only my telepathic avatar raises its left brow in utter confusion, wondering what the heck that was about. Do people around here not understand that our entire inner circle is in a perpetual, polyamorous, semi-romantic relationship? I know that there was some mention of Luni becoming Kinzul’s daughter-to-be or something like that, which sounds like Lu and Lil are going to have an official draconic marriage at some point. I mean, Lady Kinzul very openly considers everyone here her children, her surrogate family, so I’m pretty certain that the daughter-to-be statement meant something more official.

My telepathic avatar sighs and shrugs as I return my attention to meatspace. Somewhat unsurprisingly, there’s a bit of venom lacing Induul the Green’s voice as he greets me, “Schism.”

Is that jealousy? Is it about Luni? Regardless, I nod towards Induul as I respond, “Induul,” I quickly nod to the rest of The Paradox Dormir as well, greeting them in turn, “Farzhis, Veril, Iylynila. I hope I pronounced that okay. Mammal tongue and all.”

This earns me a smirk for Iylynila who gives me the faintest nod of acknowledgment, despite it being Farzhis’s name that I’d been worried about pronouncing correctly. Farzhis however mostly ignores me, as she uses her electricity to ignite a small pouch that she places in a pipe. She draws a large puff, and passes it to Induul, who similarly takes a long drag. Farzhis cuddles up along Induul’s right arm, and blows smoke down the scaly jerkin upon his chest. Induul, keeping his head tilted up so that Farzhis’s head fits along his neck, blows smoke rings my way.

I don’t want to make misogynistic assumptions on the group dynamic, but Veril’s attention is on Induul, Farzhis’s attention is on Induul, and Induul’s attention is mostly on himself, by his confident posture, and aloof gaze. So, instead of dealing with that nonsense, I address, Iylynila, “What about you? I came in at the tail end of things. Who do you not want to meet on the battlefield?”

There’s the slightest twinge in Induul’s brow, as the aloof facade cracks ever so slightly, when he realizes I haven’t played in to whatever weird power dynamic he’s got going on. Iylynila smirks as she notices the exact same thing I’d made note of, and then much more seriously, she meets my gaze, and smoothly exhales as she says, “After seeing your honoris causa. You.”