Eskil groaned, he didn't know what to think of the attacks or of the creatures. The men who had returned were visibly shaken, they refused to return to the islands. Repeatedly whispering 'Ragnarök'. They swore the island was nothing but death and destruction, it was the end.
Libelle's slender finger tapped her lower lip, "It says here the creatures did not use any visible weapons, yet the men who fell appeared to have been struck by a thins blade, like claws?."
"Once again my dear, I have no idea what any of it means. I would need to travel there and see it all first hand."
She sighed, "I would have to agree. In all my years of travel, I've never once encountered a creature like this."
He winked at her, "You've never encountered a creature more fearsome than me."
"Yes love, there you are true."
He pushed himself upwards, crawling towards her and brushing his chiseled nose across the nape of her neck. "Perhaps I can remind you just how fearsome I can be?"
His hot breath stung her sensitive skin, even more than his tender love bite against her collar bone. The warmth of his palm teasing her breast through her nightgown. She purred, running her hand through his hair as his mouth clamped down over her breast through the fabric.
"Papa."
Libelle and Eskil visibly winced, pulling apart from one another as Gala jolted awake. She sat up against her mother's side, Raynor stirring against Libelle's other side. Gala's hair began to rise, her blood red eyes that mirrored her father's widened. The young dragon child's mouth parted and she snarled, a sound that was venomous and beastly.
"What is it Gala?" Eskil asked, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.
She looked back at him, a pair of short beige colored horns beginning to appear from her scalp. "Someone is here."
Libelle sat up, picking up the robe from the couch beside the bed. Securing the tie around her waist, she ushered Gala and Raynor to the center of the bed. Standing in front of her children, she watched Eskil approached the bedroom door.
As his hand moved towards the door, his vibrant aura began to swirl around his body. A draconic hiss slithering its way up his throat as he slowly twisted the knob.
Flinging the twin door's open, Eskil roared. "Whose there?"
Yet no one was there, the hallway was empty besides one young maid who nearly shrieked. The frightened woman practically jumped out of her own skin as she stood several doors down from Eskil. Holding a pail of cold water she stood frozen.
Eskil forced a smile, "My apologies lass. I didn't mean to frighten you."
She timidly nodded, turning away and fleeing down the hallway as fast as her legs could run. Eskil closed the door and peered around the room, taking note that his daughter was no less on edge than he was. Raynor stood up beside his sister, his own pair of short horns slowly growing from his scalp.
Eskil approached the bed slowly, looking around to try and find signs of an intruder. Yet he could not sense any. Gala and Raynor were unique in that sense, hard to reign in and they sensed things that others did not. Highly reactive, they could sense danger even before their father. Then they acted upon it.
With a sudden howl of wind, the two large windows on the eastern wall slammed open. Thick wind flooded the room, blowing out the fires and scattered all the paper around the bed. Libelle covered her eyes, staring out into the night and waiting for their uninvited guest to enter.
Gala did not however. Her young daughter snarled like the dragon she was, shifting forms in a burst of red energy and transforming into a wyvern with jagged pale bronze colored scales and sharp cream horns. Her juvenile form was no larger than a draft hose, yet just as deadly as her full grown brethren.
She lunged into the air, spreading her wings before clamping them down to her body and soaring out the window like fleeting hawk. Raynor rumbled a growl, shifting forms in the same crimson color and darting out after his sister out the window.
"Gala! Raynor!" Libelle shrieked, lifting her sheathed sword and rushing out to the balcony with Eskil right beside her. His form was beginning to ripple with black scales, and as they set their first step onto the stone balcony he erupted into his glorious form.
His massive wyvern body took flight into the air of the cold night sky. The rough scales of his body dark as the deepest parts of the ocean, black as a moonless night. The ruby shine of his eyes glimmered like a hot ember. The fearsome roar deafening the surrounding lands.
The ancient dragon was ferocious, intimidating, a force to be reckoned with. As a father, he was even more dangerous when his children were in danger. Their mother was no less deadly, with her inherited magic and skill with a multitude of weapons: no creature was safe from her determination and wrath.
"Eskil! Libelle!" a snarling voice shrieked. "Call off your fledglings now!"