Something was wrong... The air smelled strange. Off. Like copper? Copper and sweat. Jax breathed in, a gasp, and lurched forward, onto sand. Warm sand. Warm, even in the darkness of the night. Dragons... They were settled in the sand with squirming, whining, squealing hatchlings. Some eggs weren't even cracked yet. Was that the nobleman? Jax had heard stories of certain people---trainers---going through these challenges. To steal their dragon from their mothers after hatching. The mother looked enraged, however, and as the man was crawling away with a squirming golden dragonet, she was digging her claws into the ground to go after him. Was that normal? She looked as if she were intent on getting her baby back.

He crawled forward, getting bloody sand on his hand, putting himself between the dragon and her target. She glared at him. "No, please! Please don't harm him! He'll take good care of your baby, I promise!" He didn't know. He hoped the man would, especially after taking one so young from their mother. "He'll handle your baby well, I promise... You can trust me." His voice grew lighter, easier and less intent, as the dragon settled back. She was still glaring at the man with her baby, crawling as far away as possible, but she moved sideways to nose Jax's hand. She seemed to coo, and purr, in a strange way, as if in reassurance. She wrapped her tail around her and the rest of her eggs and stared at the other man even as Jax settled her with light strokes down her elegant neck. "You're crazy..." He muttered to the man with the hatchling. "You're all crazy... I might have been better off in the desert after all, if you go through this for a newborn dragon..."

It was cruel, in a way. Taking a baby from their mother, tormenting the mother so. Why would they do such a thing? To prove their strength? How stupid. At least it wasn't a challenge to test their intelligence.

Dantel was unaware of the commotion going on behind him, after his slow escape. All he knew was that he had succeeded, that a he had a dragonling within his arms and that it was his to raise and care for. Despite the hardship of gaining his little one, he felt like it had all been worth it the moment he was settled upon the bed he had chosen for his own, and was feeding the golden dragon scraps of meat with trembling hands. He could feel a slender tendril of unconditional love coming from it, no ... her. She wanted her mother, but she wanted to stay with him as well. He didn't quite understand how he knew, he simply did.

Dantel cried silently as he cleaned the little queen dragon of the remnants of her birth as best he could. Such a sweet little thing, and she was all his.

"It's a she?" Jax was surprised. But a mother dragon knew the sex of her babies by smell, instinct. Similar to the humans or Mer or Kiiri or whomever they bonded with. She admitted to him, however, that she had been so watchful. She didn't want her babies to be stolen away. She knew she harmed the man, but didn't feel sorry about it. A mother was supposed to protect her babies no matter what. Jax nodded, stroking the dragon's head as she settled it beside him. He would be in for a world of trouble if he stayed, but perhaps the dragon would help him... Maybe she would protect him too. But she was so worried for her baby.

"She'll be okay." Jax whispered, leaning toward her and petting the strands of odd hair-like sprouts that went down her back like a mane. "I promise. She's in safe hands. You couldn't pick a better pair." He had to swallow his pride to calm the dragon, and it was working. She purred again, settling her heavy head on his leg and resting her eyes. He bit his lip to keep from squeaking in delight---a dragon so near, so calm, so relying on him for positive feelings...

Somehow, he made himself stand. It was more the dragonling's want that pushed him then his own as he made his way across the sands again. It was only then that the pale haired man's form registered, him sitting there with the dragon leaning against him so easily. A stab of jealousy wrapped itself around his heart, but the little one in Dantel's arms crooned softly to reassure him. It worked well enough, and he was calm as he brought the dragonet to meet her mother.

He stayed close by her side, silent and watchful. It was so easy to keep a jealous eye upon the small dragon as she slipped and wobbled about upon the sand. He was so afraid she would be stolen away ... As he had stolen her. But there had been no other choice, it had been the only way he knew to prove himself to everyone.

When the other came close, the mother dragon raised her head and stared him down, until the light barking of her baby sparked more interest. She arced her head toward her baby, nuzzling the small creature as it came close and stumbled over her mother's tail. Jax smiled at the creature, but didn't reach toward it. He preferred to keep close to the mother than face the wrath of a foolish nobleman that had just stolen a living creature from their only parent. How did the babies adjust? What did they eat? Jax knew some relied on soft foods or some form of sustenance from their mother before their teeth grew in, and others were born with a full set of bone-crushing, meat-ripping teeth in their mouths that fell out and regrew as the dragons grew or as they broke off.

Jax swallowed hard, pushing himself back and away from the dragons now that they were calmer. The golden mother watched him, cooed at him and reached sideways to nuzzle one of her eggs, one that hadn't cracked yet. He didn't quite understand what the dragon was saying, because she wouldn't clarify. She noted her egg, and that it had something to do with Jax, but the young street cleaner was more interested in putting distance between himself and the nobleman before the man could do anything to him. "I'm sorry... I don't know what you want, I'm sorry... I have to go... I have to leave before they find me..."

It was still early, the night, but Jax wanted to get out before anyone else found him and assumed he was trying to steal an egg or a baby dragon. He didn't know what the nobleman wanted either, but he was too occupied with his newly acquired dragon, it seemed. Jax tried to stumble to his feet, but his legs were weak and his heart was pounding. After a moment's struggle, he focused on dragging himself backward instead, toward the door.

"She wants to give you one of her own. You're turning away from that?" He stood smoothly and walked to crouch by the other man's side. "I could easily say I grabbed two. Oh ... the recognition and admiration ... And perhaps I could find some way to explain your presence in the stables. It would be easy enough." Sometimes, if they were lucky, street cleaners could be chosen to become a noble's personal servant.

That wouldn't surprise anyone, that he had decided to choose one of them. All of his other servants, those who had a choice, always quit, found someone else to work with. "I know this may seem like a large change of mind but ..." Dantel glanced at the mother dragon, sensing wordlessly that perhaps she would find the bond he held with her daughter easier to deal with , if the pale haired man were nearby. That would make the little dragon happy.

Jax blinked, freezing in place. Was that true? Or another cruel joke this Mer-blooded man liked to play? He couldn't bring himself to consider it that---a joke---but he felt far too unlucky to really have it be that easy. A protective mother dragon that would easily swipe down someone for venturing too close to her and her clutch would freely choose to give away one of her soon-to-be-born children to him? But dragons had no sense of nobility. They were all equal in one anothers' minds, and saw all beings as the same, if they could prove their worth in some way to them. He breathed raggedly, choking and bringing his hand up to his neck. "She... wants me to have...?" His voice was ragged.

He breathed in carefully, nodding a little. "M... maybe... I... If..." His legs felt weaker now, as if they had become water. "I wo... would..." The golden dragon did look distressed still, nosing one of her eggs gently and regarding Jax with deep, beautiful eyes. "I want..." He couldn't say it. It felt like a dream, though in his dreams if he began to have trouble breathing he would wake up and cough until he could again. Or if he began wheezing another street cleaner that might be sleeping nearby would smack him awake. But it didn't feel like a dream. It couldn't be, of course.

The mother dragon nudged the egg forward, til it rested at the pale man's feet. For his part, Dantel struggled with the new tenderness he felt for his dragon, and how it seemed to want to seep through to everything else. It was wrong. The sudden change left him emotionally unbalanced. "Take it. I'll say it's mine, and that you're now my personal servant, so seeing you with a dragon won't be so strange. It'll offer you some protection. "

Dantel stood abruptly, glancing at the mother dragon and his dragonet. "But don't you dare think this means you can expect any leniency. I'm only doing this for the dragons."

Jax was sure the fantasy would shatter the moment he touched the egg, but forced himself to do so. The thing was warm---it had an inner warmth, and moved only slightly. Perhaps it was getting ready to hatch. He almost didn't hear the nobleman speaking to him. Take it... He would. But would the dragon cling to him as a hatched dragon did to the one that claimed it? Hopefully. He heard that a dragon that wasn't born before it was claimed would see the one that hatched it as their parent, their source of comfort. That, or they smelled the shell and associated that specific scent with comfort and security. He clung to the egg's pale shell, the near perfectly-round thing shifting a little in his hands.

He shrunk back at the sudden harshness in the other man's voice. "Fine." He barked shakily. "As long as I don't burn in the sun anymore... and I can keep this... this... dragon..." He pursed his lips, trying not to sob in amazement that he actually held an egg, an egg that the mother dragon freely gave to him.

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Of course you can keep it! As for burning in the sun, perhaps sometimes, but certainly much less then before." The young nobleman turned to stare down at his new servant. "After all, you will be spending near all your time by my side, taking care of my needs." Which also included helping with Dantel's dragons, since he would have to claim both publicly, even though in truth things would be otherwise. If they were ever found out ...

"First thing's first. Put it down, and go get a basket. We need to put some of the hatching ground sands inside. I'll look through my bag to see if I have a warming spell talisman in my bag." And he needed a warm blanket for his own dragonet. Ah, what to name her? He had no idea, and it was a daunting thing to contemplate.

Jax grimaced, looking down. Of course, he should have expected the man to be the same brute he always was. The graceful appearance he had put him in too secure a feeling, and Jax was constantly stunned for a moment by the harsh tone in his voice, even as he held onto a newborn dragon. Jax hated to release the egg he had been given, but he didn't want the young thing to grow cold and die. He nodded at the man's command, feeling he would have to get used to it now that he had been claimed as his personal servant, and scuttled into the stables to fetch a basket. There were plenty. Large and small feeding baskets that were lined with a protective---but dirty---lining, which he took out of one and stuffed away to hide. The weaving was secure, and wouldn't leak sand.

Returning to the hatching grounds, Jax scooped sand into it and wheezed a bit. He had little doubt he would be tormented when the man grew bored, but shook the thought away. He had an egg to think about now. And soon he would see the young creature hatch. Carefully, he placed the egg into the sandy basket and nestled it there, glancing up toward the man. "I'm... erm... Jax. I guess you wouldn't want to use my name, but... that's what it is." And how he knew that, he simply didn't know. He knew his name, but not how he knew such a thing. The confusion it bred was infuriating.

While the white haired man disappeared to fetch the basket, Dantel took the opportunity to grab his bag from the edge of the ground. He rummaged through each pocket, until he found the amber stone inscribed with the sigils for warmth. When his new servant returned, Dantel was ready with it in hand and stepped forward to slip it under the sand Jax placed so carefully into the basket.

"Jax ..." He leaned back a bit to regard the pale man with his amethyst eyes. "I am Dantel Kay Zefarin, second son of the Third family." That meant he was one of the highest nobles of the city, a member of an elite group of trainers whose dragons held the key to keeping the whole culture of where they lived alive and well, in any way that was needed.

Once the egg was safe in a warm place, covered in its sand and warmed by its amber stone, he took the basket in his arms and sat with it cradled between his legs. It was amazing. Soon it would hatch and he would have a creature to call his own. But he would have to consider that he couldn't let others know the dragon was his own. He wouldn't ignore the creature, of course, his connection to the unborn dragon was already forged.

He nodded. "Dantel..." That was the nobleman's name, then. "Then what should I call you?" It had to be something along the lines of 'master' or 'sir', or something else that made him feel degraded and shameful. And what would happen to his current job? Would his new one be better? Servants didn't get paid. It was their job to exist for their masters and no other reason, to do whatever their masters asked. He sighed.

He settled down as well, and smiled when his dragon crawled up into his lap. The little golden one began to croon as Dantel scratched her head gently. "Hmph, I really don't care, so long as it's something which befits my station, and yours." The nobleman ran a hand trough his green tinged hair with a sigh. What a headache! There would be so much explaining to do when he dragged the former street-cleaner home. Or not. His parents really didn't care what he did, so long as he stayed alive and learned how to train dragons.

"You're going to have to wear a scarf, to cover up that thing around your neck." And they needed to get going soon. It wouldn't do for them to be found at the sands once the dragons had been taken. It would arouse suspicions that Dantel didn't know if he would be able to quell. Even his Mer blood couldn't warrant the way the dragons seemed so comfortable, and restful, with people in their midst.

Jax looked away quickly. "Yes... sir." He had to force himself not to spat out the word as if in distaste. Most considered him and his street cleaning kind to be disgusting little pests, but they didn't see the harsh, mean side of nobility. He sighed, looking around toward Dantel. His luck was rather harsh, giving him something good, then countering it with something equally bad. But this dragon was his. His. Given to him by its mother, something unheard of for a dragon to do. They never gave their babies up willingly, so he had always heard.

"A... s-scarf? But..." That would make it even harder to breathe. "I'd suffocate... I can put a ribbon around it instead, it'll look... it'll look better than what this is..." He reached up, feeling his neck, the chain seared into his skin, and grimaced when he touched it. It always hurt a little, but even moreso when he touched it. Dropping his hand, Jax stood and picked up the basket, cradling it tight against him.

Dantel stood, cradling his dragon in his arms. "A ribbon?" He snorted derisively and leaned forward to examine the seared in chain and surrounding skin. "It would make you look too feminine, don't you think? There must be something else we can both agree upon." He didn't want people to see that chain. They would ask about it, and wonder far too much about Jax's origins. It would make a risky situation even more so.

The nobleman started on his way out, walking away from the mother dragon. "You need to be as unassuming as possible, Jax. The more you manage to blend in, the better. With the dragon situation, anything else would be disastrous. People would watch us even more then they already will, because they'll have questions." Dantel shifted his weighty bundle carefully, marveling in silence at the sheen of her scales, and their soft quality.

Jax looked down, putting his hand on the top of the dragon egg. "I suppose... but I thought... white... to blend in with me... I already stick out well enough, don't I?" He was, after all, so pale he nearly glowed in the near darkness. Starlight made him appear to be a ghost flitting through the streets in the evenings, and moonlight only enhanced that appearance.

"People never ask me what I am anymore." Jax said. "They used to, but they just think I'm a really pale thing that crawled up from some underground place and adapted to the desert in some way. I mean... I burn... easily... I must come from down there." He pursed his lips, twisting the basket and watching the egg. It shifted again. Perhaps it would hatch within the next few hours... He wanted to see it so badly.

Dantel grumbled, and reached behind him to tug his new servant along. "I was thinking more along grey, with a dab of the Zefarin colors." He glanced at the other man's pale features. "Which happens to be blue, white and gold. So you'll get your wish in part."

He had to laugh at the mention of no one asking any questions."Jax, you'll be in different circles where knowledge is power. Every tiny bit of information could lead to someone's downfall, social that is, which could lead to ruin in life. It's all a dance, you see, a potentially deadly one."

As long as whatever else draped around his neck didn't harm him in any way, as a scarf would, Jax didn't care. Something light, like a ribbon, wouldn't harm him or make it impossible to breathe. So he nodded quickly, coming along when Dantel tugged him. His hair flitted into his face, over his arm, and gave him a shy appearance by hiding his face relatively well.

"Fine... I came from an underground kingdom that's never seen the light of day. We're pale by nature and made our home deep beneath the sands, in chambers. The chain around my neck was put there because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, accused of killing the king's son and daughter because they had no one else to blame, and I was but a lowly servant, easy to catch and with no voice. The chain makes it hard for me to breathe, so it's hard for me to run or speak my mind now. I'm the only one left after a devastating cave-in killed all of my kind but me, because I was able to get away in the confusion. I made it up before the collapse sealed the entrance to the underground tunnels and collapsed on the sand after walking a ways, and that's how I found my way here."

None of it was true, but it seemed plausible enough. It gave him reason for the deep scars in his back---scars from whippings, he would say if asked. And it gave him reason for the chain around his neck.

"Hmm." The nobleman walked out into the night, tilting his head this way and that before making a decision. He could certainly call someone, a carriage, to bring them both home. But the walk to the Zerafin town house was a rather short one. "That'll just make people want to question you even more, you know." And that was out of the question entirely. As he guided Jax, Dantel found himself staring at the shine of moonlight across locks of pale hair.

"Would you like a list of duties I expect of you?" It was both long, and short, as well. There would be times when the load upon Dantel's servant was small, but at others it would be overwhelming. A hard life to be sure, but better then that of someone living upon the street, picking up the discarded scales of dragons and grinding them down endlessly.

"I don't know how you'd think that." Jax muttered. "Besides... I could make something up for any question they ask. I don't now why they wouldn't just drop it... If my kind died in a cave-in, there's no other way to credit that. They can't be found. I was just a servant before I came here so I guess I'm built for slavery." He sighed, cradling the basket in one hand and sweeping back his hair with the other.

"Yes..." Jax's voice was pale, whispery now. He was resigning himself to his fate now. He wouldn't have to sleep on the streets, have people drag him into alleys to have their way with him, have his pay scattered by fiendish children and mean-spirited men and women. "It'd... I'll find it easier. I'll keep it... so I don't forget anything." He swallowed hard, looking at his egg. Tiny cracks were beginning to form, but he didn't speak up. He rubbed it lightly, not forcing it to come out. The dragon inside would emerge when it wanted to, and not before.

"You'll see how things are, once we arrive and the day rises." The streets were so empty. Devoid of life. It was odd in a way. Dantel tightened his hold upon dragon and man alike as they passed beneath stone and star lit sky. Though he would neer admit it aloud, the young nobleman was glad for the company. A night such as that one would have been wasted alone.

Duties, right ... he would need to tell the other man as much as he could about such things. "As my personal servant, you will by necessity need to take care of me. That is to say, make sure my clothes are laid out for me when I wake up, that my breakfast is just as I like it, that any messages I wish to be delivered are." He went on and on, making a list so detailed he doubted the other man would remember it all, or even a portion of it.

He was sure what he would see couldn't be as horrible as life on the street. Not as stressful. Not as painful, perhaps. And if he didn't have to crouch over the street in the heat of the day, he wouldn't become burned. Wouldn't have to cry it all out in a quiet corner because the pain kept getting worse before it would begin to fade. He didn't care how hard he would be scrutinized by others, as long as he didn't have to deal with struggling to, at the very least, eat once a day.

He looked up as Dantel spoke, and rattled off a huge list. He closed his eyes, tripping and opening them again. How could he remember all this? He tried, nonetheless, and nodded with every point Dantel made. He had to remember. If he didn't... Well, Jax didn't know what would happen. Would he be hit? Publicly humiliated? Whipped? Perhaps his fabrication of a life underground gave Dantel ideas that Jax would later regret...

He slanted a glance the other man's way, and reached out to steady him. "Come now, I don't expect you to remember all of that right now. That would be unreasonable." The dragon in the crook of Dantel's arm crooned softly. He smiled, lifted his free hand to scratch her head. "You'll be going out with me the first few days to get the dragons their food, though of course in public ... They will both have to seem bonded to me." It would have to seem that way, though ... Perhaps it would be torture to Jax.

Jax's face warmed, probably grew a shade of pink. "Yeah..." He breathed. "I... see." He didn't want that to happen. He wanted to hold his dragon, the one the mother had freely given, the one she had allowed him to take, apparently with her blessing. He wanted to be the one to keep hold of his dragon every day, show it love and affection and never let it be hurt. He sighed, running his hand over the cracks in the otherwise perfect shell, feeling its warmth and trying to let it feel safe enough to emerge. As if understanding Jax's feeling, the egg moved a little more, formed a few more cracks.

Why couldn't Dantel just make the excuse that having two dragons under his care at once was just a little much? Pride, no doubt. Dantel seemed to feed off his own sense of pride and couldn't accept anything else. Jax glared at the ground, since it couldn't reach up to slap him.