Hello!

I saw this story after forgetting about it for like six years, and found it such an interesting possibility, I revived it! Now you get to see how my shitty writing improved over the years! Yay!

This chapter contains slight sexual themes, hinted childhood sexual abuse and childhood pregnancy.

I'm unsure who the pairings of this story will be, since there is a wide range of possibilities.

The golden drake breathed deep, muscular chest expanding as he did. When he exhaled, Mouse found himself struggling to keep his breath even. Strong. Calm. Indifferent. He fought against the uneven hitch of breath. What he truly felt. He could pretend as much as he wanted that he was fine. That the poison from the queer black dragon did not bother him, harm did. But it did. It hurt him, and he was still feeling the affects of such a vile taint. But show weakness, the demon could not. Showing injury made one weak. Showing injury made one prey.

And so, the drake of a golden hue cast his emerald gaze towards the night sky, the twin moons illuminating the night air and casting askew the shadows that haunted the lunar murk. The stars glittered against the blackness of the sky, only being hidden by the occasional blanket of clouds that were then torn asunder by the chill winds.

Mouse did not move.

He did not want to.

For a brief moment, the demon figured Solona could wait.

For once, she could wait.

It was a foolish notion.

His mortal was gone, in danger, perhaps, and all he cared about currently was looking at the night sky.

Experiencing it, the night.

In all his haste, Mouse never took the time to experience.

This was his first night out of the Fade, and into a world so familiar, yet so foreign.

It was beautiful.

The dreams of the Dreamers could never do justice to what he was seeing for himself. The demon's emerald eyes resumed to look up into the blanket of clouds, and stars and moons, gaze alight with the wonder and curiosity almost akin to a child. Flicks of light were cast askew in the demon's jaded eyes, the universe being held within his gaze as the stars reflected upon his gaze.

Mouse clenched his black talons, clawed toes curling and digging into the damp earth. Damp with his blood. The earth was cool and firm under his grasp, the blades of grass gently licking and cleaning his bloodied talons as the gentle night breeze cast them to and fro. Light from the moons illuminated his hide, and the winds upon the grassy knoll felt chill upon his scaled hide.

It was a moment the demon chose to experience, if ever briefly.

And it was a moment, Mouse decided, that he wasted too much time on.

The experience of seeing all these things in the flesh...it was more than anything the Fade could concoct.

But it would be better if Solona was here.

Then he wouldn't have this paranoid feeling that he was just going to cease to exist at any moment in this damn place.

Moused rose to his feet, body stiff, and a light grimace came from him in the form of a pained grunt.

No.

No weakness.

Never weakness.

The pride demon straightened himself, serpentine tongue slipping passed his scaled maw, slick and shimmering in the light of the moons. Tasting. Testing. Checking. White wisps of breath slipped from his nares and maw, hot and humid puffs escaping.

Hmmm.

She was here.

She was close.

Good.

The wingless drake then made his way in the direction of his partner's scent, movements fluid, head held erect and alert, wounds hidden well. If only he could hide the blood. But there was a certain timidness to his steps, a caution to his stride. It was one of weary prey. Of a wounded animal on edge. A desperate beast.

As the demon moved towards his quarry, her scent grew strong. It was...different. More real. It smelled like...cinnamon? Of wood, and sweat, and blood, and cinnamon.

Huh. Whoever knew that Solona smelled like cinnamon? Mouse didn't.

The pride demon followed the scent, finding it harder and harder as the iron of crimson began to invade his senses. Blood. And a lot of it. Moving more towards a forested area, and away from the grassy knoll, Mouse saw several of those small, flying pesky creatures. What were they called? Ah. Grublins. Then he saw more. And more.

The scent of blood mixed with cinnamon grew more tangent, ever near.

Mouse felt his chest begin to swell in pride.

Ha! He taught Solona well! She was doing more damage to these creatures than the two dragons were, based on the ground and surrounding trees being scorched with fire and lightning.

The soft glow of a fire caught the drake's attention, and in curiosity, the beast approached. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows to and fro, the light briefly hurting his eyes. But in the light of the dancing flames-he saw her.

Solona sat upon the dirt and leaf floor, working with needle and thread to fashion herself a new top from the skin of her slain foes. The firelight illuminated her lithe form, glistening under a sheen of sweat mixed with grime and blood. Her black hair cascaded over her naked back and shoulders, a bit disheveled and smelling of mage fire from her previous battles. Her shoes were worn, sporting a hole in the soles, and her rag-pants of animals hide and feathers were ruffled and torn. Her ragged shirt was completely gone, more than likely having been torn to shreds during the scuffle, goosebumps forming upon her naked skin. Her hands, feminine and slender worked gracefully, yet carefully to fashion herself a new tailoring, a pink tongue jutting out from the corner of her thin lips, glittering in a film of saliva. The blood mage was so focused upon her task at hand, she did not notice the approaching demon.

Not until she felt a strong, more masculine form under cloth robes press firmly against her back, a pair of calloused hands tail along the outermost sides of her breasts, gliding and exploring her form, before her breasts fell captive into the demon's hold. A guttural, almost throated purr could be heard from the demon, and his face buried itself into Solona's raven hair, almost nuzzling into the back of her neck and shoulder, Mouse inhaling her scent of sweat, blood and cinnamon, "Did I ever tell you that you smelled...intoxicating?" The demon questioned softly in a sultry, almost teasing purr.

The blood mage felt her face flush a faint reddish hue, and her lips pressed into a thin line, her breath hitching and goosebumps forming upon feeling his heated breath upon her, feeling the puffs of words dance along her naked skin. Hearing that note in his tone. Solona attempted to ignore the demon, the woman trying to focus on her sewing task at hand, focusing her oceanic orbs upon her needle and thread. Though she found her gaze falling towards the calloused hands holding her tender breasts, feeling his larger fingers beginning to kneed and massage. Caress almost gently, tenderly, into the creme colored flesh centered a rosy pink hue, exposed nipples soft and vulnerable.

Solona couldn't find her voice. Not at first.

"No...Can you stop? Please?" The young woman forced out, fighting to keep her tone even. She didn't understand. Why was Mouse acting like this? Was it all the blood? The death? Or was he just teasing her again? It was so strange...and...feeling him was very strange. She never expected his hands to feel so warm. Inviting. It felt...different. From the Fade.

Maybe it was different for him, too?

Solona's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of lips tenderly caressing the back of her shoulder, a hot tongue gliding along her skin and leaving a film of saliva in its wake. He was tasting her. Tasting the sweat and salt and blood. Tasting her flesh. The blood mage found herself fighting a pleased hum that rang from her throat, lips pressing together in resistance as she felt his lips trailed slowly, teasingly from her shoulder to her neck, tongue tasting and teeth nipping, a trail of titillating fire upon her skin. The demon only paused to speak, lips still pressed to her naked neck, drawl soft and low, "Now is that anyway to say hello?" Solona could practically feel the smile-or perhaps a smirk-upon his lips.

"No...b-but..." By now, Solona's hands completely ceased their task at sewing, her body beginning to relax and sink into his form, neck craning to allow the demon better access to her neck. The blood mage could practically feel the heat coming from her flushed cheeks.

She could still feel the smile upon Mouse's face, "Hmmmm. Good girl." The demon cooed, lips once more tenderly peppering her skin, slowly, almost teasingly making his way up her neck, to her jaw. One of his calloused hands moved to rasp his knuckles against her cheek, his other hand beginning to lazily massage a nipple with his thumb. He couldn't...fathom it. How real she was. It wasn't like the Fade. Not at all. He didn't expect her breasts to feel so soft and smooth and warm. Something so easily molded. He didn't expect the hitch in her breath and the moans in her throat to excite him so.

In the Fade, it was different.

He was in control.

Testing.

Teasing.

Toying.

But here? Outside the Fade?

Mouse assumed he was just as guilty of sin as mortals were. He was a pride demon after all, the most complex kind of demon. The strongest. And the only one to experience every bit of sin.

But to experience it like this? To feel, to taste, to smell something that was actually real? How lucky was he? This was the life most demons would kill to have! Kill to just have a glimpse at the other side! And here, Mouse was living it! Experiencing it!

He won!

He won!

All those other demons who called him weak could go fuck themselves!

And speaking of fucking...

The demon's attention returned to the task at hand, jaded eyes glazed with a film of lust. But there was something darker underneath. Instinctive. Primal. Baser. And it was something Solona saw in his emerald gaze, stands of his blonde hair mixing with her black. It was then in her wandering gaze that Solona noticed something. He had blood on his hands. She squirmed, and attempted to pull away, "Wait...are you hurt? You have blood-"

"It doesn't matter...Don't worry..." The demon breathed through his kisses, reply soft and somewhat muffled against her flesh.

Solona frowned slightly, throat muscles bobbing as she swallowed. Her fingers were trembling as she went to reach for his own hands, "...But..."

"Shhhhh..." Mouse shushed gently, softly, teeth moving to nibble upon her ear, the flesh of his lips brushing against her lobe as he spoke, tone thick and husky, "Let me have you..."

Solona grunted, lips pressing together, eyes screwed tightly as she internally fought and debated. Her answer was a mere whisper, pained and strained, "...N-no..."

...And that killed any sort of tenderness in the demon's affections. Rage boiled inside him as his grip instantly went to her wrist to force her to him, his grip painful, and causing her pale had to whiten even more, "-No...What do you mean no?" Mouse seethed, tone caustic yet soft, a threat underneath.

How dare she!

How dare she deny him!

Solona stumbled over her response, the mage stuttering, fumbling over her words as she struggled to free her wrist from the iron grip, "Be-because I don't want to! Mouse-stop! You hurt me!"

Whatever Solona was about to say next was cut short, for Mouse's other hand clamped her jaw shut, his tone dark and threatening, tongue laced with bile and poison, "Don't you ever deny me, you fucking whore!" The blonde seethed, tone deepening, darkening, becoming real. Becoming his true self as his emerald eyes turned black, and his fingers became sharper, harder, more akin to talons that threatened to break the mage's pale skin.

The blood mage didn't say anything, the woman fearful and closing her eyes to try and avoid a confrontation, hoping it would go away. Her nose reddened as tears began to fall from her lashes and spill down her gaunt face, lips contorting in physical-as well as emotional-pain. The trail of her tears illuminated softly in the light of the fire, which crackled and popped softly in the still night. The air was thick and tense around them, and Solona could feel the demon's harrowing gaze upon her, even with her eyes closed.

And then she felt the talons upon her wrist and chin dull, and soften. His hands becoming more human. Less real. Fake. She didn't like his real hands-or claws-whatever they were. They were so cold...

And then his hands were gone from her, his form no longer pressed against her.

Slowly, hesitantly, Solona opened her eyes, vision blurred from her tears. He was still there, but not touching her. His eyes were no longer the soulless black of what he really was, but the green of what he pretended to be. He looked just like before, from the Fade, when they first met. Defeated. Tired. Spent. Timid. What he pretended to be.

He didn't look at her. Not at first.

"I'm sorry. I didn't...mean to. I just got...well...angry." Mouse murmured, tone soft and meek, eyes downcast. And then they rose, to look upon her, "I didn't mean what I said. I never meant to hurt you...I'm sorry, Solona..." And then his hand rose, gentle, tender, to wipe the tears staining her cheek with a thumb. It was an action that the young mage flinched away from, hands held up defensively.

"Do not touch me-please." Her tone was swift, defensive, wary.

Mouse breathed, and then exhaled deeply, "...As you wish..." And then he noticed something, "You are bleeding."

"You did not notice before." The black haired mage hissed, canines showing as she spoke. A gash was upon her shoulder. It was a notion that made Mouse once more cast his eyes downward.

"...Sorry."

It was an apology Solona did not answer. Fuck him. And fuck whatever injuries he had. He could go fuck himself after what he did.

Silence filled the air, saving for the cackling of the fire and the call of the night creatures.

It was a silence Mouse didn't particularly like. He couldn't even see the stars and moons from this forest...

"Solona-"

"You're a dick." Was the woman's sudden response, arms crossing over her breasts. Fuck whatever he had to say.

"-...I know."

The woman was now quiet, chewing on her lip, debating, "You know, sometimes I wonder if you really even...care. Sometimes, I don't think you do..." She had to be the dumbest mage in existence to care for a demon. Hold affection for one. She knew better. She always knew. But still...

"Of course, I do, Solona. I do, it's just-"

"Why don't you ever say it, then?"

"I...Because-it's just...complicated." Mouse cleared his throat, "That's all."

The blood mage scrunched her nose, as if smelling something foul, "Yeah, sure. Uh-huh."

Liar.

It was then a voice echoed through the darkness. Or, rather, two. One masculine, one feminine.

Mouse scowled.

Oh, fuck him.

It was that blood scale and his pink bimbo.

"Something wrong?" Solona questioned. Eh. Why was she asking?

"Uhh...I may have...run into some others. Just so you know, you may kind of, want to, turn into a dragon. Oh, did I forget to mention? The inhabitants of this place seem to be dragons. So...just think of a dragon, but smaller. You remember how to shift, don't you? Of course, you do." The blonde remarked, body already shifting into that of a golden drake.

Solona frowned. A dragon? She never tried shifting into a dragon before. Still, the woman figured it would be better than being half naked. Kind of? She'd be completely naked as a dragon...this sucked!

"Oh, and, uh, another thing. They know me as Hybris, so...use that. Better than 'Mouse', I think. More...dignified." The demon spoke, and sauntered off towards the pair no doubt looking for him, if only to give Solona more time.

The blood mage snorted, "More dignified my ass..."

Now...

...How to turn into a dragon?

Try as the woman might to bring forth her mana into a spell, Solona found that she couldn't. Her hands were still trembling. She was still terrified. Terrified of him. Terrified of it happening all again.

She was afraid.

What if he decided not to stop?

Like the Templar?

Like...

Like the Templar...

She was but a child at the time. A girl no older than fourteen, normally pale face flushed with signs of motherhood, back pained, ankles swollen and belly bloated. A belly far too big for her tiny body, clothing uncomfortable and movements slow and clumsy. Her face was still round and pudgy, a childish feature that would remain until she hit the later stages of puberty, and her child like body would match her internal maturation.

Solona knew very little of motherhood. She still struggled to understand how she had become so large-and was still in awe of how an apparent baby was living-and growing-within her. The girl had worried many a time. She had worried that her belly would continue to grow until she could no longer walk, and she would fall and never be able to get up. She had a fear that getting near pointy objects would cause her belly to burst open like a ripe watermelon, and the other children would laugh and mock her. Many times she had been the neglected child of her peers. They did not understand her predicament. Solona did not understand her current status, either.

The other children did not understand. They thought the shy child was merely making her belly grow on purpose for attention, and stated she should make her belly stop growing. Solona wished she could. But just pushing on her belly wouldn't magically make her large and swollen bump go away. Sometimes when she felt her large belly with her hands, she felt little rumbles and flutters. She didn't know what it was. She just knew it felt like butterflies in her tummy.

Solona had noticed that her friends had now abandoned her. She was too slow to play tag in the hallways, the children laughing in mirth and knocking scrolls and various books out of the hands of the senior mages as they rushed by. She was too big to play hide and seek. Even when the girl thought she found a good hiding spot, she would forget about her extended belly that was too large for a child's body, and have her body awkwardly exposed. Solona also found that her friends did not even want to play a simple game of catch with her-but it paper balls or other toy projectiles. Her arms were too short, weight distributed far too clumsily. Solona still wasn't sure how to bend down without feeling strangely within her stomach, or worse, losing her balance and falling.

Others had made a game out of mocking the girl. Some children would attempt to throw things at the girl-naturally aiming for the largest part of her. Others made fun of Solona's awkward waddle, the flushed girl's swollen legs moving almost comically to even allow her to walk.

Others were kinder. Some of her peers had greeted her, but their interactions went little more than that. Many younger children were in awe upon her size, and would curiously approach. One little boy claimed he could see the baby's nose-having mistaken her whole belly as a nose. Others simply stated she was fat, knowing no other words to describe her.

However, it was not like Solona was a full victim herself. She had on several occurrences rammed her bulging belly into unsuspecting children-intentionally or no. Solona was surprised by how far they would fall. Though one time she had remembered accidentally bumping into a little girl she had failed to see, making her fall and cry. It was not her fault they girl was so short and her belly so big that Solona could not see where she was going all the time.

Even some of the adults had looked upon her with mixed feelings-though Solona did not know with what. What she did know was that many of the adults were kinder to her than her former friends. An elderly senior enchanter appeared to have taken a personal oath to watch over the little child and keep her company. The kindly woman was old, wrinkly, smelled of too many medicinal herbs, and drawled on and on and on enough to make Solona fall asleep during their meetings. Not that the old woman noticed. Solona assumed the little, hunch backed lady was both blind and deaf. Solona also did not know which was worse: being a pregnant loser with no friends, or being a pregnant loser and having an old lady as her only companion.

Solona found the woman boring, speaking of things the little girl did not care to know, nor fully understand. The dark haired girl just wanted to play, to run, to scream, but she could not. She had no friends to play with, and the old enchanter was in no shape to play. Besides talking and drinking tea with elfroot, the old woman also knitted. To Solona, knitting was just as boring as talking about grown up things or drinking tea.

The kind woman also said Solona could come to her with any questions she had regarding her pregnancy. Solona never asked. She did not know what were the right questions to ask, though she was sure the woman would answer them. She certainly had a lot to talk about. She surely knew a lot about babies. Though Solona stated that the old enchanter could ask her questions as well, the mage never pried. Solona wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say.

For several times a week the pair the would sit, one knitting whilst the other doodled mindless creatures out of boredom. It was during one afternoon that the old mage had looked towards the girl with failing eyes, gentle laughter flicking against Solona's ears like the soft glow of the lit candle, "My, my...and what creatures are you conjuring on that paper?"

Solona jumped slightly, face flushing even worse as she lowered her head towards the paper, embarrassed, "I...I don't know...things."

"You know, Solona, if you wanted, I could help you make some creatures of your own." The mage smiled, wrinkles changing to mold with her dropping flesh. Her words had caused Solona to look up at the woman curiously, "You can?"

"Of course, child. Just draw an outline upon the cloth I use, and I can cut them out and knit them into a stuffed toy."

Solona's blue eyes had now widened in childish curiosity, mind unable to think of anything more to say as the words spilled from her mouth, "You can?"

The old woman laughed, flesh flapping under her chin as she did so, "Is that all you can say? But yes. I may be old, but these old bones can still work then they need to."

At this moment, the child looked to see what the elder mage was working upon, hands constantly moving and working. It was the first time Solona had even bothered to look, "What are you making with those things?"

"This? Oh, it is just bed clothes for when the baby comes."

"Bed clothes...for the baby?"

"Yes, silly child! You do not think babies come out all bundled up in soft cotton and blankets, do you?" The grey haired mage questioned, voice echoing in a laugh. Solona blinked. She never thought of that. She didn't even know what a baby looked like. She never saw one. She didn't entirely understand how and where they came from. She just knew it took a mommy and a daddy. But the Nice Templar was no daddy. And she was no mommy. Solona didn't understand, "I tell you what, Solona, why don't I teach you how to make little stuffed toys of your own? We can work together then-you on your toys, and I on baby clothes. What do you say? Would you like to learn how to knit?"

Solona paused in thought. Knitting sounded so boring...but it was better than sitting there doodling with stick figures. The girl also thought she could make clothing for her baby, which would apparently be butt naked.

"I will. But on one condition." The girl stated, the old woman cocking her head in curiosity, "Can I call you Nana? I think I know what that is, but I never had one before."

The old mage merely smiled, "Of course. You can call me anything you like."

The girl with a belly too large for her smiled, and a bond was formed through stuffed toys and baby clothes.

Solona had once awoken during the night, pain like a sharp dagger piercing within her swollen belly. Torn out of sleep from pain, the child whimpered and cried in fear, tiny hands clutching a tummy that was far too large. When the pain had dulled, Solona had felt something different, wrong. Her bed felt wet.

That was odd. Solona stopped wetting her bed years ago. Unless she peed herself when her belly hurt.

The candle was lit, and through the soft glow the flames, fresh crimson glittered and stained the sheets.

Solona cried for Nana.

Solona didn't understand what was going on. Was she dying? Was she sick? Was she in the Fade? She didn't know. All she knew was that the stabbing returned, sharp and unmerciful. First she was alone, and then there were many people, many faces, many voices. She cried, face now red from fear and tears as the strangers led her away. To where, the little girl did not know. All she knew was that the pain she felt was real, and that she would need a new nightgown. Her current one was soaked with blood. And like that, she was whisked away to a room with strange faces and warm water and cloth.

And in a sea of strangers' faces, she had seen Nana.

"Nana!...N-Nana!...Na-na!" Solona cried through sobs, feeling the dagger stab her belly once more and strangers settle her into a warm bath with shallow water, pushing the hem of her bloody gown onto her belly. Solona didn't understand. She was scared, embarrassed and confused. Why were they doing this to her?

Her tiny hand had reached out towards her friend-her only friend in a sea of strangers' faces, a trail of tears glistening down her round face, swollen fingers desperate to hold. Nana reached out and had grasped the terrified girl's hand, old and fragile bones mixing with younger. Blood stained the warm water. Nana tried to smile-if only for her sake.

Solona tried to speak, but the ball in her throat was too large, pain too strong. Beads of sweat had now broken across her brow, tiny hands shaking and sweaty.

"W...What's h-h-happening, Nana?...Nana?!" The girl asked, voice uneven and laced with fear, eyes wide like a doe's.

Nana tried to smile. But it looked forced. The wrinkles upon her sandpaper face looked like they were in the wrong spot. She tried to smile. It looked wrong, "The baby, Solona...it's coming."

"T...Th...b..." The black haired girl tried to speak, but only sounds had come out. The ball was too big. She couldn't speak. She had tried to rise, gripped by panic, but the strangers held her down, into the warm waters laced with blood.

"Solona? Solona?" Nana cooed, brittle bones kneeling towards the girl, a bony hand stroking her hair as another dagger pierced her belly, "I need you to be strong. Stronger than you already have been. Can you do that?"

The girl's round face was shadowed with terror, eyes wide and lips unmoving. No words needed to be spoken. Nana saw everything in her eyes.

Don't let go.

Nana...please...

Nana did not let go.

She was sweating, drenched in sweat, heart pounding out of her chest and breath labored. It was terrible. Like a nightmare that never ended, like a battle she could not win. Nana said it was over. Solona didn't feel like it was over.

The warm bath had now turned cold, water red with blood. It felt like her body was torn in half, sharp pains like knives still within her. Solona barely remembered the strangers talking about the baby being too big, and her pelvis being too small. She thought she heard something-felt something crack-tear, but she wasn't sure. Her whole body hurt, and she just wanted to sleep, and never wake. She barely noticed her grip upon Nana's fingers had cut off the circulation of the older mage's fingers. Solona didn't notice her grip was that strong before.

"You did it, Solona. You did it." Nana smiled, skin worn and tired.

"Ba..by?" Solona questioned, trying to fight off the tiredness of her eyes. She felt that something was off, though did not know what-nor care. All she wanted was to see the baby that once lived inside of her.

The strangers-whom she now realized as Templars and several Senior Mages-were deathly silent. Until the child was given to her, Solona letting go of Nana to try and hold the little boy, whose skin was a hue of light blue.

Solona smiled tiredly at the infant, eyes blue, face marred with a cleft palate and cries as soft as a kitten's.

"Is...this what...babies look like?" The girl asked, looking to Nana in curiosity, eyes alight with renewed energy. The old woman merely smiled sullenly, though it was a smile the little girl did not pick up.

"He needs...a toy. And clothes..." Solona murmured, looking at the infant with a kitten's cry. Part of her wanted to scream, to let the baby know that it was his fault for making her lose all her friends and putting her in this much pain. But a part of her couldn't. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't.

The little boy's tiny fingers seemed to be merged together, tiny arms twitching as he cried weakly. And then fell silent.

The girl smiled, shaky hands touching and holding with curiosity, the babe twitching in a sudden hitch of breath, tiny cries resuming.

"There, there...go...go back to sleep..." Solona cooed, hands clumsily running along the new skin.

The kitten's cries had faltered, and silence once reigned from the babe. Only briefly did his breath hitch, lungs filling. Then stillness.

The Templars took the babe away, easily prying him from the girl's grasp.

Solona screamed and cried, though was too pained and weak to rise.

She failed to notice how blue his skin had turned, belly bloated.

...Mouse wouldn't be like the Templar...

...Would he?

He was different...

...Wasn't he?

In truth, part of her hated Mouse, now.

Because he brought back memories she never wanted to remember.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!