"Alana has escaped, High Lord."

Visibly shuddering, as profuse sweat beads formed on the frightened Dragonesian Guard's skin, he managed to utter out. Kneeling beside him was another Dragonesian Guard, lower in rank than the speaker, however, equally scared to death.

"We tried our best to stop her, High Lord," the Guard spoke up in desperation when he received no answer whatsoever, from their King, hidden beneath the darkness, "She was fast. And yes, there was a boy, no older than eighteen who had helped her escape."

The sinister giggle pulsated in the gigantic throne room. The chortle belonged to none other than the Dragonesian King himself. He was laughing like a lunatic, but a sinful lunatic. Not that his face was visible due to the darkness shrouding half of his body; his menacing laughter was enough to ring in the Guards' eardrums as the bells of death. Whimpering, the two guards kneeled more, until their noses were touching the marble floor, begging for mercy. Because they knew this silence was nothing but a dire omen, ready to devour them any moment now.

The Guard who was lower in rank was new to the situation he was facing. In desperation and hope of survival, he crawled and held the King's feet, like the pathetic Dragonesian he was.

"High Lord, please," broken sobs erupted from his throat, "I am the only breadwinner in my house. If something happens to me, then my wife and children will be on the streets—"

"Oh, so you have a wife and children," the King smirked, his canine teeth protruding out of the corner of his lips, "How old are your wife and children?"

"My wife is thirty-five; my youngest child is five, the middle, nine and the eldest is eleven, High Lord," the Dragonesian Guard answered, without understanding the ominous meaning lurking in his words.

"You are new here, are you not?" the King asked, receiving a vigorous nod, "Then you should have learnt and carried out your responsibilities well."

"I deeply apologize High Lord, please spare me. I can assure you that my mistake shall not be repeated."

"Interesting. So desperate to live, aren't you?"

Shamelessly, the Guard nodded, making the smirk on the ruthless King's lips grow wider.

"I will spare you," the King said, generousness leaking from his tone.

The Guard immediately burst into tears of ecstasy, as he held the King's feet tighter, thanking him over and over again, "Thank you so much, High Lord. I will remember this kindness that you have bestowed upon me—"

"I am not finished yet," the High Lord spoke, amusement dancing on his lips as his midnight blue inhumane eyes peered at the Dragonesian beneath him, "Not only that girl, but also my son has managed to escape. Do you not think that you should pay for my loss?"

"I d-do not have much wealth in my possession, High Lord," the Guard stuttered.

The King hummed a long hum, before presenting a dangerous and revolting deal to the guard.

"I will spare you lowly thing," he began, paused and leaned forward, revealing his slit like monstrous midnight blue eyes, "Your children will be included as Dragonesian trainees, whereas, for your wife, she will belong to me."

The repellent lust was evident, swirling in those orbs, hungry for a new prey, whether be human or a Dragonesian. The Guard, on the other hand, could not dare to speak. It was as if he had forgotten his own mother-tongue. He sat there, kneeling in front of the crude King, in silence and disbelief. Tears streamed down his eyes, yet at the same time, he did not cry.

"Would you like to witness the consequences with your own eyes, in case you are in denial?" the King asked, and within the blink of an eye, a blood-curdling scream was heard. With widened eyes, the Guard turned around to find his co-worker on the floor, with his lifeless beheaded body. Bright yellow blood ran out from his beheaded neck, signifying that he truly was a Pure Class Dragonesian. If Alana had been present, she would have sympathized with the guard, only because his kind, were actually good and meant no harm. Nevertheless, due to their rotten luck, in recent years, they were being slaughtered mercilessly, or even if they made a simple mistake.

"Do you want to face the same fate?" High Lord's words resonated within the other guard, who, with crippling eyeballs, stared at the gruesome view in front of him.

And then, he did the unthinkable and unimaginable.

He once again held onto the King's feet, begging and pleading for his life, "Take away my wife and children, High Lord. Please, and spare me. They were good for nothing in my life, anyway."

The King laughed, hearing the words he had least expected to hear. "You are such a bastard, aren't you? Like it. I like it. Alright then, I will spare your life, since this is your first mistake. Still, you will have to go through a punishment."

"No wait! High Lord!" the Guard screamed when other officials of the Military Guards of Dragonesia stepped forward to pull the fearful Dragonesian away, and towards the torture room.

"1103."

"Yes, High Lord?" the words rang inside the King's mind, through the telepathic power he was using to communicate.

"Find Alana. But remember, no harm should be caused to her. Understood?"

"You can trust me with all your faith, High Lord."

"I hope you do a good job than that insolent father of yours."

"I will, High Lord."

He answered, while the Dragonesian King glanced back at the hung dead body of the man who once was Alana Thornheart's mentor.

"Do not worry, High Lord. Alana will return to you, on her own accord."

"So, how old are you? And what is your name again?"

Alana wanted to strangle the young Dragonesian boy then and there. This was not his first question. This was the hundredth question that he was asking Alana, despite not receiving a single response. In fact, the girl had not yet revealed her face, in spite of the scorching heat of the sun, as the two walked for miles through the forest path.

Alana was familiar with Dragonesia like the back of her hand. On the little short trips that she had been granted as a privilege and the maps she had been able to steal from the libraries, came off as advantageous today. Throughout these past years, she had spent days and nights memorizing each path, track, valley, hills, crowded areas, for a day like this. She knew that a day when she was finally going to free herself would require her memorization ability. Especially, since her now companion, the Dragonesian had no idea whatsoever about his whereabouts.

"I am eighteen, by the way," Leon answered, even though he was not asked, "Where did you live before being captured?"

No answer, once again, was received. But was that enough to stop Leon from blabbering? Unfortunately, no.

"What is the training for humans like? Are they stern, you know, the Military Dragonesian Guards?"

"Is that a Cantala? Do you know, these plants are very rare and their flowers bloom every thousand years! It is a blessing to witness a Cantala. Perhaps I should take a sample and preserve it with me. I have heard that if the pollens of Cantala's flowers enter your nostrils, then it can even cost you death—"

Leon felt a harsh push, before his back was met with the ground. He groaned and winced in pain and was on his way to say what the hell when he noticed Alana motioning him to keep quiet. Leon looked around in confusion, having a hard time in the process to detect exactly what was happening, when he realized at who he was staring at.

They were in no way the Military Dragonesian Guards. They were much more buff in shape, and much more anomalous, defying the shapes and size of other Dragonesians' human forms. Dark scales were bulging out of their arms and faces. Yes, they were Dragonesians, but not ones who should be messed with.

Alana and Leon both scrunched their eyes to locate and understand who or what their purpose was. There were six of them, and it would be a lie to say it did not cross Alana's mind the thought that they could be experimented breeds or, perhaps, an evolved version of Dragonesians.

"Do you think that girl went this way?" one of them asked his mates, grumbling in the process, "High Lord will skin us alive if we fail to find her."

"She, for sure did," another one sniffed, as if smelling a delicious food. Saliva drizzled down the corner of his crooked lips, "I smell her on this track."

Alana's breath hitched. She could not risk getting caught, now that she was so close to running away from those evil clutches. She could not bear to live like that, killing vicious animals, and training throughout the days and nights, all over again.

The Dragonesian who had spoken such, inhaled, his nose in the motion, and soon was tracing it. Before Alana knew, he was nearing the bush, behind which the two were hiding. Alana clenched her eyes shut, her dagger at bay, and her breath held in. Even a single movement could cost her life. Although she knew that when the King himself had sent these creatures to look for Alana, they would hardly harm her. Probably make her fall unconscious. But she was still not ready to return to that damn hellhole.

One step.

Another step.

Almost close.

Too close.

"Someone's there!" he couldn't reach the bush before, one of the other Dragonesians yelled. Apparently, they had heard a rustling sound, somewhere towards the North. And in no time, those Dragonesians were on their way to catch whoever they had heard the presence of.

"What was that?" Alana exhaled a sigh of relief, "Should we go and see if someone's in danger?"

Leon shook his head, "No one is in danger. I used my quick Dragonesian reflexes and threw a pebble far away from here. At least I have brains, rather than muscles." Leon grinned, exposing his pearly white teeth, and being proud deep down to have been able to help both of them, at least once.

"I should thank you for saving my life," Leon said after standing up, catching Alana's attention, "And yes, you are welcome as well."

Although Alana's lower face was covered with the cloth, she could feel her cheeks burning. Leon had understood that the girl was not someone who would easily be able to apologize or thank someone. Not at least in this unfair world. But deep down, she was grateful.

Alana turned her back on Leon, and with a mumble, said, "I am eighteen too. And my name is Alana. Alana Thornheart."

He grinned, "I am glad to see that you are beginning to find me trustworthy."

Alana did not respond and instead walked away with rapid steps, to avoid the flustered situation she was in. It was a first experience for her, and definitely, an odd experience. Leon caught up with the girl soon, the grin not leaving his face, while his arms were behind him, fingers intertwined together. It seemed she was no longer weary of Leon walking beside her.

It was a pleasant feeling. Almost as if having a companion, a friend, and a fellow person who would stay beside her no matter what, on the perilous journey she was undertaking, wasn't such a bad idea after all.