Horen shivered as the cloak was put around his shoulders. But he did as the voice had instructed. He hadnt even opened his eyes. Besides, he knew he was a repulsive mess. Just as he knew he was on deaths doorstep. That last fight for his mistress, it had been rigged. He had won many before, and he knew when he started that the fight would be against him. He had fought hard though. He had even killed a few of the bastards, some of the 'best' his 'master' had trained. The dragon had been furious that he had lost 'investments'. Horen only laughed in his mind. He could have broken free long ago, could have killed them all. But his mothers teachings from his childhood had enabled him to survive without losing control. His power was great, and he knew he was more than a match for man y of the so-called 'mages' his master and mistress had employed. His skills had only improved because he had stolen many tomes and magical scrolls over the years. He had always returned them though. He never showed a single soul his true power, his true heritage. After-all, it would only have made it worse. Leaders and people of high power in various governments and lands would have sought him out, to try to buy his loyalty, or to destroy him.<br/><br/>So he had done what he knew he could do. He had become a fighter for his Mistress. She alone had ever shown him kindness after his loss. So she alone had his loyalty. His 'Master' had despised him. More for his skill at defeating his own fighters than anything else. After the fight and being nearly killed, his Mistress had saved him. Had told him she was sending him to another Mistress. One who wouldnt make him fight and who would help him.He hadnt believed he would live through the rough treatment on the way here. He expected to die when they had thrown him in this wretched cell not a day ago. But here she was. The girl he had seen in his vision. The one he would have to trust. So he laid there as she examined his blood stained, filthy white fur.