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History of Orias

You settle down on the plush rug in front of Io’s desk, the skydancer pausing in her writing of documents to glance up at you. “Hm? You need help with anything?”

You think for a moment, then shake your head. “No, I just have a question,” you say. “I’m not from around here, so I don’t know much about this place. It seems peaceful enough, but... I’ve heard some stories...”

“And you want to know if they’re true?” Io’s attention is fully on you, and suddenly you’re aware of the fact that aside from a Slight Eyewing, the two of you are alone. You nod. “So, you want to know the history of this place.”

Another nod.

She sighs, closes her eyes, then opens them with a pensive look on her face. “Alright. It’s not well known, but not many care to ask. Settle down, this’ll take a while.”

As you relieve yourself of your bags, she stands and leaves the room for a moment before returning with a tray of tea levitating beside her. She closes the door, settles the tray on an empty spot on the desk, and lays down on her own rug on the other side of the desk.

“So,” she starts, “I’m sure you know the official history of the town. A few years ago, I, the town’s Guildmaster, started to build. As other dragons came through, some decided to stick around, like our Innkeeper Delta, and others simply helped build, set up shop for a while, and moved on. Activity increased over time, until Orias became the trading outpost it is today. This sound about right?”

You agree, and she nods in turn. “Yes, well, our history spans quite a bit of time before all that. I’m the only permanent resident who knows, because I was the only one here for some of it.

“Let’s start from the beginning. Now, I wasn’t part of this back then, but I knew a certain someone who was.

“Originally, the town - a regular clan at the time - was located in the Southern Icefield. The Fortress of Ends, to be exact. It started off on the wishes of a dragon created by the Icewarden himself, a dragon named Tyra. She believed she, made out of ice under cover of night, was... the union of Ice and Shadow. Put herself up on a God-like pedestal.

“She tried grouping together dragons from both flights, joining them under the name ‘Clan of Shadowed Frost’. You might be familiar with those particular legends?”

“No, not really,” you say, drinking from your mug of tea. “Maybe rumors of an old cult in the Fortress, or Crags?”

“That would be them, yes. Their influence spread pretty far for a while, and they were essentially a cult, with how they did things. Killing those who opposed their ideals, assimilating others who gave up, obeyed, or legitimately agreed with them.” She tilts her head back with a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Then, Neela happened.”

“Neela?”

“Mhm. Just as absolutely fanatic as Tyra. Became her right wing, her closest companion, all of that. Thing is, Neela didn’t think Ice and Shadow were meant to be together. She thought Fire, not Shadow, should be paired with it. Opposites attract, that kind of deal. Ridiculous, if you ask me.

“Neela gathered up prisoners of the clan, some Fire-born coatl and an assortment of Ice-born dragons. Eventually, she led them in a usurpation, leading to a civil war, of sorts.

“Now, the thing about Neela was that she could figure out a dragon from the inside out at the snap of a finger. Tyra and her dragons didn’t stand a chance, especially against those Fire dragons of Neela’s. Neela won, but she and another dragon, Verrick, were the only ones to survive. 

“That didn’t deter them. It did the opposite, really. They simply cut their losses and left. Now, take a guess where they went.”

Considering the original topic of discussion, it’s an easy conclusion to make. “Here?”

Io nods. “Right here. Neela and Verrick essentially did exactly what Tyra had done in the Icefield, only now they called themselves the Clan of Burning Ice. 

“However, over time, Neela somehow managed to become even more ruthless than Tyra. She’d send her dragons to hunt others for sport, of all things. Kidnapping hatchlings from their parents to force them into the clan’s ranks, capturing travellers, imprisoning every other dragon they came across. Killed her own children, even. Neela treated it all as a game, and eventually stopped caring about what Flight a dragon was when capturing them.

“Ice and Fire dragons had the highest chances of surviving. Shadow dragons didn’t stand a chance. The rest were captured indiscriminately, and most were killed unless they managed to gain the favor of a clan dragon. 

“In my case, I bribed a guard and convinced Neela I agreed with her ideals.”

Her last sentence comes with a pause. After a moment, her words click together in your head, and realisation dawns on you. “In your case? You were caught by her?”

She sighs, then nods. “I was a young merchant, back then. That’s how I had something to bribe the guard with. As for Neela, she was so overconfident in her own perceptive abilities that she never noticed my own.” She shrugs. “A dragon will do a lot in those situations.

“But, you didn’t come here to hear some ‘woe is me’ story. Anyway...

“I got myself close to Neela, the way she’d done with Tyra. I learned her secrets, as well as her history. She’s how I know about the very beginnings of the clan.

“She was her own downfall, really. She told me how she won against Tyra, the same way I would use myself against her. I gathered our prisoners and led a revolt. And, somehow, we won.”

You tilt your head, curious. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? Would it really be so bad if others knew the real story behind the clan?”

She seems to visibly relax at this, for some reason. “You, I like you. You’re a kind dragon. Unfortunately, others... likely wouldn’t take well to knowing their trusted Guildmaster manipulated her way into that position.”

It’s true, and you know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair. She continues before you can object.

“Orias is built on trust. I don’t want them to think they can’t even trust me.”

Resigned, you nod, and she continues with her story.

“Yes. We won, and unlike Neela and Verrick, there were several of us at the end of it all. We drove Neela away to Gods-know-where, Verrick and the others dead, and we remained.

“And this is where Orias begins to take shape. 

“I told my dragons to leave, to find their own lives after their imprisonment, to escape this place that to them, had only been full of suffering and blood and death. I stayed behind, to change this place for the better. 

“You know how I began to build, and how others joined me. But the reason I built this place was to change it from a place where all that it had ever known was death, to a place where dragons could live freely. The others who’ve joined me weren’t always free, and here, they finally can be. We trust each other not to hurt each other the way we’ve been hurt before.

“And the trading post? Well, I was a merchant before, and I’m still a merchant by heart. I was biased in what my own freedom would be.”

She gives you a small smile, the first you’ve seen since you arrived. But there’s something still in the back of your mind, something that won’t stop bothering you. “That... answers a lot of questions. But- what about the other rumors? The recent ones?”

“Recent ones?”

“Yeah. The disappearances. I’ve heard some dragons say there’s demons here. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but... what do you think about it?”

Io’s smile fades and she sighs, pinching her brow with two fingers. “I think- no, I know, that the only demons here are our own. Quiet, lingering, and real, but with no physical form. Demons in the way you describe simply don’t exist.”

You nod slowly, taking this in. Of course she’d think that. These were all just rumors, after all; you’d doubted them before you even came here. “Thanks. I think that’s everything I wanted to know.”

She smiles again, and says, “Well, I’m glad I could settle things, then.” She rises to her feet, gesturing with a wing for you to follow. You stand and strap your bags back around yourself before walking after her. 

She stops by the door, waiting. You approach, and as your claws click around the handle, she bows her head just slightly. “I hope you don’t mind, but could you not repeat what I’ve said to you today? I’d rather this history not be spread around.”

“Don’t worry, I wont,” you reassure her. She smiles at you with a nod, then lets you leave.

You walk from the building with new knowledge and secrets in tow. 

Orias is new, yet even older than yourself. It’s peaceful, yet has known more blood than you’ve seen in your life. It’s full of opposites and contradictions.

You frown. Opposites and contradictions... 

What, or who, are those in the present?

...Better not to dwell on it.