The Reaper swayed gently in Zorn's saddle as they plodded across the Scorched sands, concentrating on his sewing.  He kept an eye on the dracgon Jase out of the corner of his eye, although they'd been riding together for weeks, he still didn't fully trust the him.  At least he was a man of few words, he himself appreciated that. 

    Jase was a formidable looking man, a finger or two's width below six feet tall, he looked like a warrior, carried himself like one. He kept his head shaved, as far as the Reaper could tell, just as he, himself did.  Jase wore the wide-brimmed hat of a desert herder, providing him shade, and a menacing shadow partially hiding his eyes and face.  He wore the skins of the desert, which didn't surprise him, the disgraced knight doing his best to blend in with the hardened desert folk.

    Jase wore a long, over coat made of dried skin of the Wyverry, hanging down to the tops of his soft soled boots made of the tanned hides of the Wyverry as well.  On each hip were holstered the nasty, Alabastar crossbow pistols. They were long, and sleek, they had a presence of their own, a sense of unease seemed to be a constant in his guts now.

    The Reaper turned, looking at the pistol on Jase's left hip, the Alabastar seemed to shift and gleam eating the waning desert sun.  He wasn't sure why he felt so uneasy, maybe because he'd been shot by one them?  He focused on his sewing once again, trying to get the thought of their bite from his mind.  His side was healing, but it was still sore and a little stiff.

    Jase's eyes were a strange bronze, his gaze reminding the Reaper of the serpent eyes of the Coppered Striker, a venomous snake of the Scorch most known for it's eight fangs.  Their bite truly was the worse part of getting bitten by one, their venom was harvested as a numbing agent, to deaden pain.

    "You never answered the question Verheiin," said Jase, breaking the sands silence.

    "That's because it's none of your sands business Dracgon."  He snapped.

    "Your sands are mine, Reaper."  He said riding up beside him and Zorn.

    Jase's war-tone, Rolla, trudged along side Zorn now.

    "Our sands may be sifted and find us traveling as companions now Dracgon, but let there be no confusion, we're not friends."  He glared sideways at the Dracgon.

    Jase didn't blanch, "The sands are roiling Reaper, they are hungry..."

The Reaper scoffed, "Muzzle it."

Jase went on, "You've been burrowed in the sands a long time Verheiin."

"Says the Dracgon whose done the same." He said.

This made him shut up, at least for a moment.  He seemed deep in thought, as if deciding what to tell him. 

Jase tugged on the front brim of his hat, pulling it further down on his forehead.  His dark tinted Sei-Togs were strapped around the top of his hat, he peered at him a moment more before speaking.

"Many have tried to deny the waves of fate, some have even slowed the sands of time, but you are the Sands Reaper. Roiling sands are not burrowing sands, Reaper."

"And the words of a Queens Dracgon are like roiling sands in my cracks."  He tapped Zorn lightly twice, and "klok, klok." to him to speed up faster, riding ahead of the Dracgon.

******************

Jase continued riding behind the Verheiin, the man was a unabashed stone amidst the roiling sands.  All their time together and he'd gotten nowhere with him, the Reaper an untrusting, desert hardened soul, his eight centuries of life bleached in paranoia and fear under the Scorches unrelenting bright eye.

Jase rapped on Rolla's shell, she sped up, her claws schtickity-schticking, through the sand and up to once again ride even with the Reaper.

Jase approached the Reaper, the only way he knew, head on.

"You know I'm right Verheinn, you've sensed it's coming.  Your didn't really expect to live this many lifetimes and not see it, the moment you've been waiting for has come!" 

The Verheiin looked at him hard, even behind the tinted goggles he could see the Reapers hard stare of contempt, being honest with himself, it was unnerving.

"What I know Dracgon...is you have motives of your own, motives I know nothing about.  Knowing you've come from...from that Witch's throne makes me trust you as much as I do them."  He nodded towards the Maharani, her personal guard Aten, and the seven Wardens riding far ahead of them.

Jase went to speak, but then closed his mouth, changing his mind, then quipped,"I smell a lot better!"

The Reaper smirked, almost smiling.

"It's like comparing Zorn's shit, to wolf shit, either way you're both shit.

He went to argue again, but before he could the Reaper tapped on Zorn's shell, the two once again rushing ahead.  Jase grimaced, shaking his head, knowing he was going to have to be honest with the man eventually.  That thought of coming clean with the Sands Reaper darkening his already somber mood.

The back of the Reaper's head wrap flapping in the winds as they trotted ahead.

Jase let out a long breath in frustration, tapping Rolla once again, the two of them lurching forward, giving chase.  He'd have to try reasoning with him...again, talking to the Reaper like pulling a burrowed keetone from the sands, nearly impossible. 

"Verheiin, I only ask you to consider the possibility of something bigger at play here...something perhaps even more sinister than the Queens, or vampires, werewolves, or..."

"Dracgons." Interrupted the Reaper.

"... dragons, I was going to say dragons."

The Verheiin glowered at him once again, a look Jase was getting used to.

"I could've killed you Reaper, but I didn't, if nothing else that should get me some courtesies."

Verheinn's glower darkened further, the sun even seemed to fade with his mood, sending a chill up Jase's spine.

"I meant no disrespect Reaper...only that my motives are perhaps not so much different than yours."

"Don't presume to think you know my motives, Dracgon."  Verheinn snapped.

"You go along with these wolves for as long as the need suits your own desires, once they diverge, you will be gone or dead.  These wolves have aroused a curiosity, or perhaps...hope?" 

Verheiin's face remained a mask, revealing nothing, he looked blankly ahead.

"I know a bit of your story Verheiin, enough to know that you, of all people should have a grudge against the Queen."

"My grudge was cast upon the sands when I heard Lesna had died, so stop trying to incite something the desert winds have taken centuries gone."

"You say that, but I know you came north to Cool Springs," 

The Reaper shifted at the mentioning of the dead town.

"That was after Lesna's death, you ventured north... for whatever reason, but revenge.  But, you seen something, something that scared even you."

The Verheiin now swung his head to glare in his direction, the flames of anger now raging behind the dark lenses of his goggles.

"You're sands are sifting Dracgon, walk upon them carefully."  The threat through clenched teeth.

Jase swallowed nervously, hoping the Reaper had not picked up on it, he continued,

"Whatever you seen there, has kept you from going north seeking, your revenge.  You see the wolves as perhaps a way to finally take your vengeance upon the north, to rid yourself of lifetimes of running, to finally avenge your mother and father."

"You know not of what you speak Dracgon!  Muzzle it!" He growled, angrily.

"Perhaps, I do, perhaps I don't...?"  Jase left the question hanging.

The Reaper tapped, no pounded his knuckles into Zorn's shell, the war-tone lunging forward and galloping ahead a short distance, before once again slowing in a fit of sand, to a menacing brutes gait.

Jase kept the distance for a few miles, knowing his words had provoked haunting memories for the Verheiin.  Jase plodded along in his own thoughts, centuries in the desert running had been his fate as well.  Unlike the Verheiin however, he had a family, friends, people he'd grown to care about.  So for him the stakes were much higher, and the chances of truly fighting what was to come, relied on him getting Verheiin to believe him, to trust him.

He rapped two times on Rolla, she lunged and trotted once more to catch up to the Reaper and Zorn.  The brute snorted this time as the female mug approached, he too voicing his displeasure at having them around.  Rolla slowed and pranced lightly beside them, a female mugs way of showing she was no threat.

"You and I are not so much unalike as you may think Reaper."

Verheiin scoffed once more.

"We are both running from the Queens, I know you've killed Dracgons, I..."

"Lies Dracgon!"  He said, clenching his teeth in rage, the veins on his neck bulging as his tanned face reddened, "You are the first Dracgon I've ever seen, the first to ever find me."

Jase stared at him, Verheiin wasn't lying, he could tell. That meant what he'd been told was wrong, or worse yet a lie!

"I was told you'd killed at least two Dracgons, perhaps even more, some have gone missing, never to return."

Verheiin scoffed, sarcastically, "If I had killed Dracgons, why have I not killed you?  You speak as if killing one of you is easy, Dracgon?  I'm sure I would have eventually defeated you in battle, but be assured it would've been no easy thing.  But if these are the lies your Queen is telling, I am grateful, it scares the bounty hunters away."

Jase shrugged it off, he'd sort that out later, "A fact known to all, the Queen wants both of our heads!  That you cannot argue!"  Verheiin rode on, finally listening?  "I have lost everything, my family, friends, loves, all of it when I fled those three hundred years ago.  I found out what she truly is, the Queen is no better than the monsters she has claimed to free us from."

"And how did you find this out, Dracgon?"  Asked Verheiin.

Jase gave him an uncomfortable look, shame creasing his features, sadness washing over him.

"I...I was close to one of Queen Merna's daughter, one of Lesna's grandchildren, very close,"  Jase left the rest unspoken, letting Verheiin fill in the blanks, "she told me of, of journals kept by Queen Merna, but quilled by another family, draca endowed, a thirteenth family.  One kept in secret by not only Lesna, but Merna as well.

This draca endowed family is responsible for recording all of the Queens acts, whether done in private, or public, these scribes are magically linked to the Queen through the Reckoning."

"This is the pillow talk you had bedding a Princess?"  The Reaper shook his head

Jase went on, annoyed with the slight, "This daughter or Merna's..."  he paused thinking of how to say it, "this daughter, the one I was close to had strange feelings about her mother."

"Strange feelings?" Inquired Verheiin.

Jase looked up at the pack of wolves, they were much closer to them now, he lowered his voice, "This really is not the time or place to discuss those feelingsReaper, just let me continue. Please?"

The Reaper nodded, settling into the saddle and taking a swig from his aqqway skin.  Desert customs would have you offer a drink to your traveling companions as well, the Verheiin merely replaced the stopper and rode on.

"This daughter felt so uneasy that she stopped sleeping, eating, having episodes filled with panic and fear.  She told the healers, her servants, told her mother, but they all down played it, giving her hempweed to help with her sleep, but nothing more.  She could now sleep but was haunted by nightmares.  So she asked me for a favor, she wanted me to try and get a look at the Queens journals, she hoped that by getting to read some of the Queens logs that she could discover why she felt these feeling of unease."

The Verheiin's eyes began to wander the horizon, he was growing bored.

Jase pulled down his Tei-Sogs, they would help hide the tears, even after all this time, it still burned, the pain hot and encumbering.  He went on, his voice as steady as he could make it,

"It was many years later that I was able to finally get a look at one of the Queens magically quilled journals."  His voice quivered, "Merna's daughter had been right, she had cause to feel unease.........."  Jase was now bombarded with the dark memories of those last days in Queens Lance.

"And why was that Dracgon?"  Asked the Verheiin, clearly annoyed.

Jase looked to the setting sun, his eyes ablaze with pain,

"Because her mother, Queen Merna, killed her."

"Brute-shit."  Muttered the Verheiin, "I don't believe it!" He challenged.

"It's true," Jase said, his tone urging belief, "I ripped the pages from the journal and stole them away.  That's why I left Queens Lance, Reaper."

"Let me see the pages."  Demanded the Verheiin, holding out his hand.

Jase grimaced uncomfortably.

"What?"  Snapped the Reaper, a look of disbelief on his face, "You don't have the pages do you?"

"I had them, I did, I swear to the sands, I did."  Jase promised.

The Verheiin looked at him, disbelief and disgust in his eyes,  "Now that I think about it Dracgon, the only thing I would trust less than a werewolf would be a knight sworn to his Queen, and then turning around and stealing from her."  The Verheiin then tapped on Zorn's shell once more and trotted off.

Jase cursed beneath his breath as the Reaper rode ahead, this time not stopping until joining the Maharani and her entourage.  They'd been traveling weeks with them and the Reaper had not so much as rode within spitting distance of them.  Jase bit his lip in frustration, he'd pissed the Reaper off, he contemplated a new tact, but getting frantic for this man's trust.