Ruins of ancient Dracaenae enclave, Continent: Barat, the Year 2041, Planet: Grimoire
What the hell was wrong with him? Clarence didn't quite understand what was going on. Yeah, he'd seen a lot of attractive men and women. So, what was the deal with that? As far as Clarence knew, he wasn't one of those second-gender individuals unless one counted the fact that some dragons could potentially switch between omega and alpha if there was a shortage of females.
He knew more than a few females, but he'd never been interested in them. Now, maybe Clarence had an idea of what was going on. Funny, when he retired, he suddenly had a preference. It had to be one of that crazy prince's parties, too. Clarence shook his head. No matter, he wasn't going to fall for anyone who roamed with that narcissist. Nothing good ever came of remaining in his presence for any time.
He settled into the hottest pool available in the hidden turret. Luckily, Clarence could monitor what was going on outside through various spirits he'd deployed as spies. He wouldn't if he didn't have to use his own resources. Clarence was efficient when it came to storing resources until he needed them. That had kept him alive when others died after squandering everything at their fingertips. They'd been foolishly brave sometimes, while others acted without considering the consequences of not having mana storage available through other means.
Now that Clarence had thought about it, those examples had come from beneath the crown prince's unworthy guidance. He grimaced in recollection of a few battles that hadn't gone well for Bellonia or Galos, especially not after that crazy crown prince took over from the wiser majors and generals who'd long since chosen not to pursue the conquest of the Republic of Shantu, much less the Naxos Kingdom.
Poor souls hadn't known what they were in for when they willingly enlisted under his command. All they'd been about was the glory and none of the hard work. That reaped the majority's early demises rather than boasting about their youthful battles in old age.
Well, nothing could be done concerning those who possessed zero common sense.
Sudden chattering got his attention. The spirits were aflutter and anxious. Clarence grunted as he rose to his feet and donned a robe. He retreated into the shadows while listening to the noise. He had to give them credit; at least two of that party had figured out where the entrances to the Turrets were.
Much to Clarence's bemusement, he realized it was the two brothers from earlier. What was going through their minds to separate them from the party? Curious, Clarence dressed and prepared to send them on another goose chase. That was at least until he heard a complaint from the surly one, he thought was named Firz, something or other. He winced on hearing what was said.
*
Firenze and Chester were still heatedly sniping at each other when determining who was to blame.
At last, Firenze growled. "... At this rate, I'll have missed the birth of my children because of that asshole crown prince."
Chester sighed because Firenze feared the crown prince's negligence in releasing people from his party. Chester knew that it had something to do with his connection to Grifton Tinroy, but damned if he knew what it was.
Firenze smacked a palm against a trunk in frustration. "Might I remind you that I was supposed to have returned five months ago to my mate?"
This again? Chester sighed. "Yes, I regret that problem as well. We must find a safe place to hide for the night." He grumbled in aggravation. "Since you seem to recognize where the scent is the strongest." Chester hesitated and added. "That might be where he's been recently."
Firenze scowled. "You've got to be kidding me. Why don't you use your nose for something other than the typical?" He growled. "Don't tell me it got clogged up from an allergy?"
Chester sighed. "To be honest, there's so many scents around here that I can't tell the difference anymore."
Firenze closed his eyes and sighed. "Try meditating," he advised. "Right now, we're safe from pursuit. If we go to our right, we should find a cavern we can go to." He was actually trying to avoid the turrets.
Chester's eyes narrowed. "You think we'd be safer in those caverns?" His nose wrinkled slightly. "Hmm, yeah, I guess you've got a point." He shrugged with a sigh. "At this rate, the only way I can clear my senses is to get some ginger tea or something close to that."
Firenze snorted. "Lucky for you, I happen to have some."
tree limbs rustled as they walked along. Neither spoke while Firenze led the way to the cavern. He was very cautious, checking for traps.
They froze when a menacing, low voice rumbled.
"Who're you, and why do you insist on roaming in these woods?"
*
While still suspicious of their motives, Clarence watched them from one of the turrets. He recognized that they just wanted to sincerely return home. Wasn't this quite the conundrum and quandary? He pondered the problem while speaking again to see how much provocation they'd be able to handle. "Do your lips no longer work? Speak up. I'll hear you just fine."
Of the two men, Firenze appeared the most likely to snap. However, surprisingly, it was Chester who spoke. "We just need two nights and a day to rest and recuperate," he said quietly. "Then we'll resume our journey home." He paused.
Firenze sighed. "Provided that stupid crown prince doesn't include us as his targets to hunt down once he realizes we've deserted the party." He had no regret in doing so. His purpose was clear. He had zero interest in getting involved with the mess before them.
Clarence was bemused. "Who is the crown prince to you?" This was the first time that he wasn't being hunted. "Why were you in his entourage?" The two Jesso brothers were underwhelmed by the crown prince who shared their surnames. "I confess I find your tale of departing of your own free will somewhat hard to swallow." Now, he wanted a solid answer from them. Otherwise, Clarence would do something nasty to permanently remove them from his territory. He wouldn't care what happened to them afterward, either.