Of course, a piece of cloth across her face would do extraordinarily little to hide anything from the one she was meeting with. From her various encounters with him over the centuries, he was wild and reckless. Even the attack at the coliseum proved that. But it was also equally true that he was powerful.
So, precautions had to be taken. Her mask was a magical item, one given to her by her father long ago and imbued with a portion of his specific essence. As long as she kept a small strand flowing into it, it would make her face appear blurred to any visual inspection. The same power would prevent any attempt to scry her identity while she had the mask on her person.
For that reason, it had become her habit to keep it next to her skin at all times, even when she wasn’t wearing it as it was intended. It was almost a game to find creative ways to keep it on her person at all times. Some memories brought a smile to her face, for she was nothing if not decadent.
Outside, the dust stirred up and a small cloud formed as a large pair of wings beat the air to slow the descent of a gargantuan scaled body. If one didn’t know what to look for, this might have appeared to be an elder dragon landing in the small clearing. Of course, she did know what to look for and so she knew that in actuality, this being was far more dangerous than any elder dragon, at least when it came to outright fighting.
She sat in the carriage, sipping on a fruited water that one of her slave girls had prepared for her. There was no reason to go out into that dust storm. She would wait for it to settle rather than let it mess up her hair. She already had to go to a great deal of fuss and muss to keep up with the latest trends in the capital. Being in this form was definitely work, but she liked it all the same.
When the air finally cleared, she climbed out of the carriage, waiting for a footman to place stairs for her to descend. It paid to keep up appearances, after all. She walked down and looked out at the dragon staring back at her. Its head was as big as a wagon, and its tail nearly as long as its body, with massive leathery wings folded up against the scaled back.
“Really, Barak, is it necessary for you to come in that form? You couldn’t pick something a little less ostentatious?” she asked.
“What? This is my natural form. I can’t help it if you are ashamed of your form, Raina. I know that I’ve never even seen it. For all I know, you could be some kinda slime. With your dad, who knows where he might have dipped his wick?” Barak said.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Your father knows how to be quiet. You’d think he would have passed some of that on to you. Remember, we are trying to keep our plan here a secret. We don’t want to have to share with any of the others,” Raina replied.
Then she waved her hand and an ornate divan appeared, which she promptly went and laid down on, only to have servants bringing her freshly peeled fruit. There was something about fresh fruit. Maybe it was because nothing grew on the infernal plane which had been her home for the first couple hundred years of her existence.
“Bah, the mortals can’t do anything to us. We have no reason to hide our might. For that matter, I still don’t know why you didn’t just take him as soon as you discovered him. I would have,” Barak said while stretching his wings upward enough to cast a shadow over the spot Raina was lying on.
She laughed to herself; mortals presented a greater risk than the other demigods understood, but also provided numerous opportunities for amusement. It was probably why she always chose to live amongst them. But she needed Barak for her plan to succeed, so she would appease him. “It isn’t the mortals we have to worry about. It is our cousins, as you well know. Any of them would kill just as we would for a chance to recover whatever shard of divinity this Kyle Warborn carries.”
“Yes, I—” Barak began.
Raina cut him off. “And that is to say nothing of our parents. All the gods have been anxious to capture whatever remnants of power are left after Uncle Krig’s demise. The shard hasn’t fully manifested yet. My scrying tells me that he has a much greater potential than any that we have ever found. We don’t want a snack; we want a full meal. Enough to allow us to ascend to the chief place amongst all the demis. And I promise you that, even split between us, he has that much essence if only we wait to harvest him.”
“Fine, I shall bide my time for now. Besides, siccing that Aekor on him was quite funny. I was almost surprised that he was able to defeat even such an emaciated one, but that proved his potential. I’m just surprised that you haven’t snared him between your legs. You use that tactic enough that many of the demis question if Begaer isn’t your divine parent rather than Bedrag.”
“He has proven somewhat resistant in that area, but it is a challenge that I look forward to. Cracking that nut, so to speak. But I didn’t call you here to discuss our diversions. I am arranging things for him
