#sure hope that pinglist is still working!

[dramarising-replacement]

G1 Hoarder Revamp and the Mountain of Salt

Can we all just acknowledge how much of a total fuck up the new G1 ping system is? I feel bad because they obviously went through so much work and beta testing for this system but it’s absolutely garbage in practice. This isn’t meant as a huge roast (even though I do think the creators could do with getting knocked down a few pegs given how poorly they’ve treated people through this entire process, oops) but I hope they at least see this and see things that they can work on. Obviously, going to them and sharing this stuff in person isn’t possible since L from arcane is notorious for gossiping and overall not super trustworthy, so anon route we go. I’ll give credit where credit is due: they definitely tried to go on the right path and the coding is good in theory. The big issue here is that they tried to fix something that was not great but worked with something that is not great and barely works. Sure there are some good things about the new ping system: if it’s not busy it’s not longer than six or seven minutes to do all of it for a few dragons, which, compared to the previous method? Pretty good timing. Helps automatically tag some colorgroups without having people confused about if their dragon counts or not, and uh... probably something else. The cons far outweigh the pros though: -sheet can only be used one at a time: terrible in theory, terrible in practice, there’s no queue system either so you’re not even guaranteed to go next even if you’ve been waiting ages. This becomes a nightmare around any holiday, as we’ve seen around notn, since everyone flocks to the ping generator and then quickly abandons after seeing the mess there. This should have been something that they found a way to work with from the start, especially since the previous spreadsheet, despite how long it took to sift through if you were actually assed to do all the specifics, could still be used by multiple people. -userface issues: going into the spreadsheet and it may all just be blank, does this mean someone’s using it? Someone isn’t? If you go ahead and assume not you’re going to get warned that you overrode someone since they get the ID to your dragon, if you don’t assume then you end up waiting for ages like an idiot and someone else swoops up the opportunity. The loading bar on the side doesn’t help give that info either since it constantly reloads due to the poorly planned code. Where users have their cells selected also doesn’t help since that isn’t always accurate. There are many times where the loading bar isn’t seen going, there isn’t any visible text on the screen, no comment in the box, but it’s still in use. This isn’t viable for anyone, especially not people who don’t fully understand how the system works. If you’re going to make it for only one person’s use at a time, you need to ensure it’s easier to see what’s going on for everyone. -laggy as all get out: sure, I don’t have to go through 15 pages of different types of pings on the old G1 pinglist and shovel through all the duplicates and specifics list people, but having more than 13 dragons or even doing a bigger lair sale (or even just anything during notn) means you get to wait for the program to chug away for ages (as well as the easy chance for someone to just cut in halfway through a load and have you start all over again or wait) and hope that the three people behind you don’t get impatient or angry as you have to do three separate input sessions rather than massing them all together as you could with the previous spreadsheet. -poorly designed aesthetically: maybe this may sound petty to some, but the design of the system is pretty terrible in terms of layout and color choice. This isn’t to say it’s just ugly though; after speaking about it with people who aren’t neurotypical, have disordered thinking processes, and/or have generalized issues reading things (autism spectrum, dyslexia, semi-visually impaired, etc.) it’s pretty clear that the entire thing is not accessible whatsoever for anyone who can’t immediately decipher what anything is. Black text on bright red is not a good thing for most people beyond old MySpace edgies. If you, as someone without reading or comprehension difficulties, are having a difficult time focusing on it: maybe consider how difficult it’d be for anyone else. The way the rules or tutorial section is laid out also does not help in terms of accessibility! It’s clunky and hard to read, does not flow well, and doesn’t explain as thoroughly as you may think. If you’re someone who uses coded spreadsheets often? Yeah sure, it might be understood. If you’re not? Welp. Good luck kiddo. -very poor user help: this is on the mods or creators more than the spreadsheet itself. If someone has a problem, the first thing you should do is talk with them to find the difficulty and tackle it from there. I’ve seen, multiple times now, where either N (plague) or L (arcane) straight up tell people that they can’t help them and that they should just read the guide on the front page. Like sure, they read them, but something is tricky for them and they’re asking for help. They can read the rules and guide again but without outside help, guess what? Not gonna help them. If you just keep linking them the forum or telling them to read the first page it won’t actually help anyone! One of your jobs as the creators here is to help the community that you made it for, not just parrot that they need to read. Be better. Add that to a system which is not forgiving of any mistakes whatsoever and it becomes a terrible little cocktail. Also does not help that, despite their sugar attitude about having people test it in discord servers, the creators l and r/p (both arcane) don’t actually help people who need help using it. -wait times/queue: this ties in to an earlier point, but there’s no way to organize who goes next. Sure, it might sound strange, but when you have to wait ages to get access despite you being there ahead of anon llama/drama/dingdong/animal because they can all hop in ahead of you, it becomes frustrating. People don’t always type in that itty bitty box to say what they’re doing, and people easily erase it or write over it, or they just outright ignore it. Obviously not everyone is going to do that, but it’s way too easy for people who are greedy/entitled to step over those who are being polite and patient. -no quick ping options this is also kind of minor, but at least with the old spreadsheet you could just click in and say “okay, I just want to ping XXY general for this because I have a quick sale.” Guess what: nah. You have to go through the entire chugging process and queue and everything else just to get that snippet of information on who to ping. What once took maybe five clicks is now five minutes to thirty depending on how many people are using it. Wanna quick check if a dragon with XYZ colours you hatched is one that someone wants specifically? Nah, fuck you. You have to input all the data and wait instead of just doing what was once a super easy quick search. There is so much other shit wrong with this system and I’m honestly surprised N (plague) allowed them to do this. Sure, the old pinglist could have done with some updating, but that should have been done in the form of clearing redundant double pings, maybe a way to sort through specifics like ‘male only’ and mass copy names there. Quality of life things, not this just... total mess. I understand that L and R/P got it into their heads that they needed to fix it and that they wanted to take over the entire system themselves, but they should have kept their pride out of it for once. The sheet to input what dragons you want is also another entire nightmare. It’s frustrating to go through the google poll a dozen times to say exactly what colors/eyes/gender/pasta-shape/siesta-fiesta under the sun you want rather than have a quick way to input it by drop-downs or even just a text based option like the old one had. It’s so easy to forget what you put in or which one you want to put in this time, so easy to end up making mistakes that you don’t see, etc. It’s just not an effective system. It’s great in theory, and sure, it’s all sparkly and new, but it’s like admiring an aluminum trash can. Shiny and sparkly under the sun, still holding a whole lot of hot garbage though. I understand that some people may find it easier, and that’s great! I’ve used it for a few things and yeah, it’s okay, but I wish the old one was back given all the grief and frustration this one has caused. Obviously I’m not in the place to be like DO THIS OR DO THAT since I’m not the one making the sheet here, but I do feel like the people who use it have every right to give commentary and feedback where possible. Even moreso when the creators and team aren’t actually as welcoming as they try to appear to be. As much as it sucks, a lot of L and R/P’s (primarily L) false niceties have kind of come to the surface lately which makes this whole situation just that much more awkward. If people don’t feel like they can approach you because they know you’ll rip into them here or on the anon site immediately, maybe you shouldn’t be a main creator of something for the user base or a mod for a bigger group. Just some side-thought to all this other stuff. Big post, big rambles, I can’t bring myself to organise it though because I’m pretty fed up and tired. Take from this what you may, but basically fix your shit new G1 Hoarder peeps.

[xaz-fr]

@deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss @rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @starry-ampelope @plainstriderbard @reanimatedfr @ally-fr @golden-lionsnake​ @rookfern​ @khadjin-fr  (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

Dragons are anthro. Silky is quietly one of my fave dragons. He’s just very weird and neat. He’s got a skin condition where it’s slightly... transparent and he’s very self conscious about it. Of course he’s such a soft and sweet boy anyone who takes the time to get to know him don’t even see that anymore. And Fayne is the most high strung bastard butler you’ve ever met.

A Manor in ATLAS 6: One More Time

It was quiet in the Master’s library. Silky liked it that way. Sunshine was sitting at the Master’s desk, reading a book and doing his learning work. She was really the only one who showed any interest in learning more than basics so the Master allowed her to entertain herself in his library. It kept her out of trouble, which wasn’t hard to find yourself in when you were born into the Manor. She was quiet and didn’t bother Silky unless she needed his help finding a book she needed. She rarely did since Silky put books out for her in the morning which would keep her occupied all day.

The library door opened. “Silky, you in here?” a voice called.

“Where else would he be?” Sunshine said in a bored, judgmental way which made Silky shoot her a look. She wasn’t looking at him or the door.

“I’m here,” Silky said, moving from behind a shelf. He was surprised Aspen was at the door. Aspen didn’t come to the library. Didn’t need to, didn’t want to. “Is something wrong?”

“Sanya isn’t here, can you help?”

Silky frowned, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fayne is acting crazy.”

Silky stared and then felt his ears heat up. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. Fayne only listens to Sanya,” he said, grabbing his arm.

Aspen gave him a look. “Don’t tell me bullshit. He’s making the new additions nervous. So stop being annoying and come on,” he grabbed Silky’s hand and dragged him away.”

“W-what, Aspen I don’t think-

“Shut up and come on,” and Aspen dragged him down the hall and down to the first floor. Fayne’s voice carried to them easily but Silky couldn’t really make out what he was saying. Just that he was very annoyed and telling someone off. They arrived at one of the lounge rooms where Fayne was barking at the group of Imperials the Master had added to his collection the past few months. It wasn’t all of them but it was a handful of them. They looked chastised or uncomfortable being told off by a foul mouthed Pearlcatcher like Fayne who even on good days came off rude.

“Go on,” and Aspen shoved him into the room. Silky stumbled a little and the Imperials noticed his entrance immediately. Fayne did not. Silky looked back at Aspen not knowing what Aspen expected him to do. Aspen just made a hand motion at him to go on.

With a soft sigh Silky went over to Fayne. He knew Fayne wouldn’t actually yell at him like he was these Imperials but that didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious this would be the one time he would. When Fayne stopped to take a breath Silky just went, “Fayne.”

The butler looked at him sharply, his ears flared at being interrupted. Then they drooped a little. “What is it, Silky?”

He didn’t have anything. He just needed Fayne to stop doing what he was doing. Silky hated when Sanya wasn’t here to make Fayne be nice to others. Well he just needed Fayne out of the room, away from these poor Imperials who probably didn’t deserve being yelled at. He could feel them staring at him and it made him uncomfortable. He hated when dragons stared at him, it just made his condition that much more obvious to him. He needed to get Fayne away so they’d stop staring. “I need your help with something,” he said.

Fayne made a face. “What?”

“Uh— something to do with the Collection,” he lied.

Fayne sighed and cast a stern glare at the Imperials. “Can’t you get someone else to help you?”

“You know how the Master feels about those without permission touching the Collection,” he said, hoping he sold the lie despite feeling really stupid while telling it.

Fayne made an annoyed noise in his throat. “Fine. Let me just finish-

“No, I need the help now,” Silky said. Fayne looked as surprised Silky would just interrupt him as Silky was he’d do that. 

Fayne frowned, “Okay.” He looked at the Imperials, “Don’t make me speak to you three about this again,” he told them sternly. There was some ‘yeses’ and Silky guided Fayne out of the room. Aspen wasn’t there anymore but he could see the musician down the hall, peering at them to make sure everything was going well. “Now what was it you needed help with?” Away from the Imperials and with no one else around Fayne’s tone was calm, kind even. He didn’t use the tone on many others of the Manor. Sanya was one of them. And for some reason Silky was one of the others. He didn’t even speak this kindly to the Master.

But now he had to figure out what he actually needed Fayne for and he couldn’t think of a good lie. And he certainly couldn’t tell Fayne the truth. He’d go continue that lecture to those Imperials and go give Aspen a stern talking to about snitching. That or get some courage and talk to Fayne directly instead of running and getting Silky or Sanya. “You said you needed help with something in the Collection?” Fayne asked when Silky just froze.

He did the only thing he could think of that would actually be worth Fayne’s time. He grabbed Fayne by the lapels and kissed him. Fayne was confused when he pulled away. “I’m part of the Collection too,” he said and swallowed.

“Oh,” Fayne said and Silky wasn’t a little smug to see the normally unshakable butler a little flustered. “You could have just said that.”

Silky’s face warmed. “I didn’t want to say that in front of those Imperials.” Not to mention that hadn’t been the plan at all. 

“Got it,” Fayne said and cupped the side of his face. He leaned forward a little so their horns touched, “I’ve been busy lately.”

“I know. I’m not upset,” Silky said. “And you have Sanya.” He didn’t hate Sanya. He loved Sanya. Same as the rest. It was just that they were the only two Fayne tolerated. Unless Sanya got him drunk. That hadn’t happened since they’ve moved out here to ATLAS.

“When she is tolerable,” Fayne grumbled but Silky knew he didn’t mean that. He just hated admitting he had a soft spot for anyone. “Did you still want my company?” he asked, touching Silky’s translucent cheek gently. 

“If you aren’t busy?”

“You said you needed my help?”

Silky made a face. “Well yes but I— well you see-

“Yes, I know how you are,” Fayne rubbed his horn against Silky’s before pulling away. “Is the library empty?”

“No,” Silky said at length. “Sunshine is in there.”

“Mmm. Very well,” and he started walking. Silky went after him quickly. Fayne walked back up the stairs to the library where Sunshine was still sitting where Silky had left her. “Sunshine,” he said to announce himself as he opened the door, “you need to leave.”

“Huh?” Sunshine looked up.

“The Master is coming to spend some private time in the library. Leave now.”

“Fayne,” Silky tugged his tail in annoyance. Fayne ignored him. He was so harsh to the Manor born. 

“Oh,” Sunshine said. “Okay,” she frowned.

“You can just leave your things, Sunshine. I’ll put them away for you,” Silky said. “I’ll let you know when the Master is done and you can come back.”

“Alright. Can I take this one?” she held up a book. 

Silky went forward to see what it was. Just an innocuous history book. “You may,” he said and she left quickly. “I wish you would be nicer to the children,” Silky said once the door was closed once more. Fayne just rolled his eyes. “Fayne,” he huffed.

“I have more important business than worrying about the feelings of children,” Fayne said. Silky was going to argue the point with him but Fayne grabbed his face and kissed him. Like a real kiss and not like the quiet one Silky had given him earlier. Silky kissed him back. He hadn’t intended to do this at first but now that he was here he wasn’t going to complain. 

Silky wrapped his arms around Fayne’s shoulders and his ears felt hot again when Fayne picked him up and at first sat him on the desk and then pressed him down across it. Well this was certainly familiar. Luckily for him he enjoyed that and he pulled Fayne down with him, kissing him the entire way.

[arctic-rising]

A Dark Descent - Chapter 1: Contact, Part 6

(( Previous << Lore Navigation >> END))  ((Author’s Note: Wow, this took so much longer than I thought it would to get it published. To be fair though, I was a little focused on graduating haha. However! Now that it’s summer I should be able to work on this a lot more frequently.)) ((Warnings for battle violence and vomiting)) ((Pinglist: @ashenbicornwhale @jedicreed-fr @prancingcapricat @serthis-archivist @blight-nymph @guardianitefr ))

       Adrenaline kicked under Jack’s scales as he channeled his elemental magic. The swirling energy inside made him feel light and airy- the mana fueling his confidence as he soared into the dark sky. Astra cut past buildings on swift wings, allowing a volley of arrows to draw the attention of the spectral fiend to her. It let out another deafening roar and reached towards her, however the young archer was faster. 

       Jack edged closer to the disoriented spirit, his heart pounding. Despite the creatures sluggish movements, he didn’t want to take the chance of the spell missing. If this worked, they could make a quick escape unscathed and head back home. If it didn’t, well...

       ‘Windsinger be with me,’ Jack prayed, and took another deep breath to meditate, calling upon his natural element. He focused his magic; twisting it into a spell. He could feel the mana curling into a tight coil in his ribcage, ready to be released.

       The pearlcatcher darted towards the massive ghoul, and the monster swung its head to face him. Dust and shards of bone fell from its jaws, it’s skeleton littered with arrows and clusters of ice. The horrible whispers grew louder again when it moved closer, however the chill of fear wasn’t able to catch Jack this time. His own built up magic combated the ethereal fright, and he roared as he let loose his spell. 

       The wind around Jack whirled and twisted, picking up and gaining a green hue until it formed a minature whirlwind. The elemental magic slammed into the monster; the creature rearing back as the winds pulled hard enough to snap its skull loose from what remained of its spinal cord. Astra cheered as it fell backwards, its hands clawing at broken ruins in a futile attempt to keep its balance. “Let’s go!” Jack called to Astra. She nodded, and the two of them soaring away from the immeadite danger. 

                                                            ~+~

       By the time the two pearlcatchers had escaped from the Ghostlight Ruins, the sun was setting. Buildings and statues casted pitch black shadows, and the Sea of a Thousand Currents glittered in the fading light. Jack took a deep breath, taking a moment to look at the scene before him. 

       “That could have gone a lot better,” Astra grunted. Jack glanced at her to see her sit down to rifle through her bag before pulling out a red potion. “Thanks for coming with me Jack. I don’t think I want to know what could have happened without you,” she said, popped the cork and downed the drink. A long scrape on her muzzle began to heal, and dark bruises against her hide became lighter.

       “Oh, uhm, yeah. You’re welcome,” Jack said. “I uh, I’m glad you let me- huRK-” Jack had to stop mid-sentence and quickly keel over his pearl as black ooze built up in his throat. The liquid splattered onto the pearl and almost immeaditly hardened, the oilslick substance gleaming in the sunlight. Jack was reduced to coughing once the majority of the ooze was out of his system, and he felt Astra pat his back.

        “You alright? That was a lot of mucus...” Astra asked. Jack nodded weakly, taking deep breaths. He carefully tilted his pearl in his claws to try to get the black liquid to cover the majority of the sphere so it could harden in a smooth layer.

       “I have not fought anything like that before. I don’t, er, I don’t go hunting often,” Jack explained once he got his breath back. 

       “You what?” Astra asked. Jack cautioned a glance at her and saw her wide eyes and long ears standing straight up in shock. “You’re telling me that you volunteered to go to one of the most dangerous places in Sorienth and you have little to no battle experience?”

       “Well-well you, ah, said that you were going there and I-I-I, uh, felt bad because it sounded like you were, uh, going on your own and-and you mentioned that you had not been there before and, well, you bought me that parchment and-and-and-and” Jack rambled, his nerves making his mouth run. He shifted and curled in on himself instictually as Astra stared him, her jaw hanging open.

       “You,” Astra pointed a claw at Jack and he snapped his maw shut. “met me a month ago, offered to go with me on an extremely dangerous outing after you barely knew me because I bought you paper.”

Jack nodded meekly.

       Astra huffed, smiled, and laughed. “You’re weird. I like you,” She wrapped him in a partial hug, squeezing him between herself and her wing. “Comon, let’s go find an inn and dinner. I could go for some salted crickets...”

       Jack blinked at her, confused and surprised. He quickly trotted after Astra, keeping pace with her even as his bruises and cuts stung in protest. He carefully held his pearl with his tail, the tacky mucus already turning an opalescent grey.

                                                              ~+~ 

       The cool breeze of the Windswept Plateau was a welcome feeling on Jacks scales as he soared home, his bag loaded with trinkets, books, and empty potion bottles. Astra had insisted that they try braving the Ghostlight Ruins again, but this time they weren’t going to run away from the first sign of danger. Even after facing off with one of the more deadly spirits, It was still terrifying in Jack’s humble opinion; he almost got his whiskers torn off by a Tatterwing Carcass. 

       “You know, you really didn’t have to get that close,” Astra laughs over the wind.

       “You would have been bird food if I didn’t distract it! It would have taken your throat out!” Jack protested. Astra twirls in the sky, her wings glinting under the sunlight.

       The two of them landed at one of the nearby crossroads that lead to the southern gate of the Kingdom. The bamboo grew taller and taller as they made their way into the Reedcleft Ascent, the winds rattling the plants together to make meaningless melodies.

       The streets of the Kingdom of the GuidingWinds were as busy as ever. Dragons of all elements and statuses wove together to form an endless river of scales, feathers, and fur, vibrant, and dull all at once. Jewelry chimed, fabric shifted, metal clanked, and claws clicked on the cobblestone roads as Jack and Astra wove into the crowds. When they reached the outskirts of the Center District, Astra turned to Jack.

“Are you busy in two weeks?” 

“Uhm, no, I do not believe so. Why?”

“The royals are throwing a celebration for Princess Kima. She’s going to be an offical adult and my parents are dragging me along because they’re important and it’s expected that I show up because I’m related to them, and I don’t want to go alone,” Astra explained. “Would you like to come with me?”

“I, uh, uh, erm,” Jack stuttered. “I am not a royal, or have high standing. Would I even be allowed inside?”

“We can bring plus ones. I think,” Astra bit her lip. “Look, I’ll ask dad but would you come with me to it? Please?”

Jack sighed. “I, well. Sure- yes, yes I will go with you if I’m allowed.”

Astra grinned. “Okay! I’ll find you when I find out. See you later, Jack!”

He waved goodbye as Astra darted off to the Inner District. Jack huffed and mulled over the recent events in his life, fiddling with his pearl as he made his way home.

The cemetary had remained the same when he left it. The dark iron fence was still slightly crooked, the weeping willow still sagged over his den, and the stone markers atop the graves were still partially sunken in the soft earth. Jack felt the tension leave his muscles when he stepped inside his home and went about making a fire. One thing still bothered him though, a small thought that kept pulling at his attention as he settled down to finally, finally write a letter to his parents.

The warmth from the crackling hearth helped soothe his sore body, the light flickering over his feathered quill and blank parchment. Jack carefully removed his birdskull headdress; the beads and bones clicking quietly as he stared at it.

“Why did I hear that ghost speak, and Astra didn’t?” Jack murmered under his breath.

The mask stared back, shadows dancing along the crown and orange feathers as the firelight played off of the beads.

He sighed and placed it on a nearby shelf. Shaking his head, he picked the quill back up and dipped it into an ink well.

Dearest Mother and Father;        It seems that the universe may have more in store for me than the quite life that I had hoped for.

[withoutbounds-fr]

A creature of action rather than thought, the Guardian’s first impulse upon discovering the affair was to rip the door off its hinges and storm the coupled dragons with a hellish screech. 

In a flurry of wings, noise shattered against her ears, and the world shook. Violence called after Devi’s paws as they thundered against the dirt floor like cannon fire. Transmutation, ever the quick thinker, leapt for the window. Scrambling out of it, the flurried sound of flapping wings filled the room. And Beachcomber attempted to follow it. A fast placed paw on his tail put a halt to that delusion. He hit the floor and lunged at the door - a desperate animal. But in the small space, Devi was able to block him with her size. Snarling, she reared and roared something wild, fury blinding rational thought. Trapped, the smaller dragon scampered to a breathless stop and gazed in shocked horror at the beast above him. The Skydancer panted, winded. Devi held his gaze, still raised above the ground, heaving herself. Beachcomber pawed the ground under him where he crouched in the dirt, feet dusty and darkened. For a moment, the world paused, and nothing existed but this damp room and their dust-soaked breathing and the air hanging heavy around their heads. Then, gently, Devi eased her front legs to the ground. Puffs of dust greeted her feet as they came to rest on the ground. “Just who the hell do you think you are,” she hissed, stopping for a moment to let a ragged breath pass through her teeth. Sliding up to the mage, she began again, “You have a husband at home who loves you more than the air he breathes, who would die for you and puts up with your arrogance and raised two children for you! You didn’t help. He- I’d know! You were in your precious coliseum all day. Too damn busy to care what your kids were doing -” “Like you have ground to stand on! Like you wouldn’t jump straight back into the thick of the coli if given half a chance!” leaping up to look Devi properly in the eyes, bringing to light the vindictive rage flashing in them. He was so upset. She wanted to laugh. The Skydancer thought he was the victim here. Not his husband, who was blissfully unaware of the whole affair. Not Transmutation, whom Beachcomber clearly didn’t love enough to commit to. Not Devi, now tasked with telling her friend the truth. But the fury in the Guardian had passed, the enemy had blinked first, and her charge’s need for battle had been appeased. Only a pitiful sorrow remained. And she was so exhausted from previous paranoia, and from the hunt here, and from her charge which had sapped her strength to pull this stunt. She wanted to cry. Her closest friend - who had raised two children for this dog - was married to this pathetic excuse for a dragon. The betrayal ran deep in her bones and she felt it as sharply as if it had been her own mate. Now fighting off tears, she half begged “Alphonse is the best thing to happen to me in years. To either of us. Why would you...” “Why? That’s what you want to know? Why do you think!?” something almost like pity passed over the drake’s features, “Alphonse... is a ball and chain to himself. I’d die before he takes me down with him. He’s stuck down there in those - in those rat tunnels. Judge all you like, I see it in your eyes - you’re disgusted with me. Ha! I don’t blame you. But I’m not sharing his fate. It’s claustrophobic. The same house. The same rooms. The same yard. The same view. There’s nothing different! Nothing to do! It’s solitary confinement. There’s a whole world up here - people up here. I need people and air. I need a life” the drake ran shaking claws through his crest, “I’d go crazy down there, trust me! I did try. I loved him, once. I swear I did...” it was Devi’s turn to feel pity. Of course she pitied this weak creature. A sneer crossed her features, “I’m sure you did.” She laughed. It was a humourless, quiet thing, pressed close to her chest where she hung her head, eyes drifting away. “Just like you love Zip, hmm?” Uncharacteristically, the mage growled in response. “Come on. Come on! You - you don’t get to act all high and mighty! You know what it’s like, don’t you? To feel trapped? And you. You were a pet to that mongrel, same as Platinum-Barachiel!” “This isn’t about me or BloodMagic, and definitely not that two-faced son of a-” the Guardian was quick to defend her former leader, and Beachcomber had some nerve in mentioning the Imperial. “Isn’t it!?” a wide, sweeping gesture followed the expression. “Look me dead in my eyes and tell me you were happy working under the necromancer. Tell me you didn’t want more! I’m not spending my life moping around in those tunnels with that Spiral,” he snarled, “Just like Barachiel couldn’t spend his acting as an attack dog!” Her temper snapped. A claw came down hard on Beachcomber’s pretty little face, “YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT BARACHIEL AND NOTHING ABOUT BLOODMAGIC!” Clutching his bleeding head the smaller dragon shot back, “I know enough! How good could he have been if the Platinum was willing to kill him!” “Barachiel and I loved him.” “Oh, yes, that’s why BloodMagic’s dead. Our patriarch ‘loved’ him so much he killed him.” “You don’t know anything.” She refused to meet his eye. “Barachiel was seduced by that beast - by Salem - she promised him every dream he’d never dared to hope for. He scoffed, “And why was that? Why couldn’t he hope to rule alongside the great and powerful BloodMagic?” A low growl rumbled out of Devi’s chest, “Oh don’t start that! The history books -” “Propaganda.” “The history books tell all. He was a ruler with an iron fist. He didn’t share and you know it. You and the Platinum were nothing but conveniences to him; things he could use. It’s hilarious, really, that you’re in the slums while he’s living it up in the palace. Poetic justice, I guess. Don’t get me wrong I hate Salem as much as the next guy, but you gotta admit, he was the only one smart enough to realize what a scam the pre-Salem era was.” Her posture wavered, but Devi clung to the door nonetheless, refusing to let the mage pass, “You never loved Al, did you. That’s why you dumped Gemini and Satyr on him. You were too busy slipping between Transmutation’s thighs. They’re her kids, aren’t they? I wouldn’t be surprised” “I’m going to pretend you’re not trying to change the subject and invite you to mull over something for me. I just want you - and this is just a,” he paused, leaning into the Guardian’s space, “personal little favour. Ask yourself this, why is it that it was only after he died that you thought of BloodMagic as a friend? I’ve heard you tell Alphonse about him. But did you ever bother to question it? It’s not like you didn’t know what a friend was,” his smile was a jagged thing sitting high on his face. “So,” he put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m going to leave you with that and you,” he hissed, “are going to move.” And she did.

7/?

FR Thread

The Lore That Inspired This

Devi | Beachcomber

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[terraclae]

The Battle for Paramo

Lore Pinglist: @yuushanoah-fr @cityofinoue

This is the first time for me writing a big battle like this so hence it took a little longer. Also warnings for blood and body horror, this is a rather long piece too. Otherwise, enjoy. 

‘Dan?’

‘Yes?’

There was a long pause shared between Arodan and Atlas in which the wind howled between them. Just the vaguest flit in the distance marked the approach of an enemy from a far away land. Against the dark grey and ominous sky as if it was about to snow, they looked almost alight, in a fashion too ethereal compared to what people would want to view their enemies as. Arodan threw a quick look at Atlas who in his draconic form towered over him easily. He hadn’t quite seen imperials look so stricken with a fear of death and Arodan feared what would come after if that happened.

‘I’m really scared. Terrified.’ Atlas finally said, and he bumped against Arodan’s side. It was the skydancer’s initiative to extend his wing in a gesture of assurance. It didn’t do much but Atlas appreciated the gesture nonetheless. ‘Is it bad of me I wished I was to be the one? That I had to tell you everything was going to be alright and not vise versa?’

‘No. Not at all.’ Arodan’s feathers bristled and he nudged Atlas’ side with his snout. ‘To echo what you want to say… Everything is going to be alright Atlas.’

‘... Okay.’ Atlas murmured. His brow furrowed into an unattractive dip that pinched all his features into something feral, for only a moment. It dropped slowly once Balam joined the pair. Balam towered over Arodan in similar fashion to Atlas but he was smaller than the Imperial. ‘My liege?’

‘Sorry Atlas, I have no speeches.’ He peered into the distance and watched a wide fleet of ships drew closer and closer with the minute. This caused his face to harden in a similar fashion to Atlas’ And Arodan wondered if it was a Paramo thing. ‘I only have a decisive want to win this.’

‘All the same my liege.’ Atlas responded, his voice breaking a little. Epoch and Carmen had trailed by, still in their bipedal forms and Arodan could see them exchange worried glances. They shifted to their equally towering draconic forms and settled next to Balam without an awkward word. ‘Are you certain taking out the boats will throw them off balance?’

'It takes the edge off.' Balam responded. He looked over his friends standing besides him and raised his voice. 'Does anyone want a brief refresher of the plan?' No response came but he saw Arodan hesitate for just a moment. 'Arodan?'

'We wait for the boats to land, right?' He asked, and Balam nodded. 'Then we flank the incoming army from two sides, and close off their exits. If Kassa's strategy is right…' He threw a brief glance and spotted Kassa looking over the edge of the cliff. They expectantly looked back at the group once they noticed they were being watched. 'Their swordsmen should be first, so we send our lancers.' He held up his claw and counted on his fingers, trying to remember the last part of the plan. 'If that fails… We fire Carmen's magical cannons. If it succeeds, then it's the case of driving the army back into the ocean.'

'Aye.' Epoch said, his ears dropping flatly against his head. 'Generally it's more favorable to last longer since we have better stamina, so we need to avoid being blitzed.' He looked out over the battlefield. The cliff was a fairly large flat area that got more jagged the closer it was to the bunker. The cliff itself was quite steep, but not unclimbable with proper equipment or functioning wings that most had.

'Sound idea.' Arodan quietly said, hearing agreeing hums from the rest of the group. Kassa was now speaking to Caer he could see and there was just the vaguest hint that they would be opting to retain their bipedal forms. The full width of king Alexander's fleet now spanned the horizon, as did the glow of what could only be cannons. Mild unsettled fear grew into full blown dread and Arodan attempted to not give it a second thought, focusing on the crispness of the snow beneath his feet. He turned his head to look at the bunker once more.

On the roof of the building rows of cannons were ready to fire, smoking with a fiery orange magic that trailed lilies along the edges of them. Soldiers only could wait for their signal, their only command being to light the fuses when told to do so. After that they were expected to reload it with regular ammunition. On the left and right side of the plateau stood battalions ready to spring into action at any moment.

That moment came too soon. A flash enveloped the horizon, and as soon as it faded Epoch has been first to spot the bolts of condensated light rocketing through the sky into their general direction. Carmen and Epoch bolted from their place, forward with zero doubt in their actions. 'Cover!' They cried out in unison and their claws rose with cold precision, orange magic sparking at their fingers. Around Epoch countless and countless of dragonflies flared into being, flocking around Carmen briefly before they flew along the flow of her hands on flower petals blossoming from them. The seemingly calm manifestation of magic flew forward and whirred into something far bigger, shining, flat, like a bubble around the bunker and its inhabitants. Carmen held on tightly to her brother's hand and together they held up their new shield. Seconds later, a sound like the sky shattering ripped the silence apart, the projectiles crashing onto Epoch's and Carmen's shield with great fury. It held, but cracked and creaked at various sides. Light seeped through in fluid shapes that rained to the ground and evaporated. Epoch and Carmen turned back to the other, Carmen showing signs of a red strained eye and Epoch's nose suffering from bleeding. They looked odd smiling like this and exchanged glances, turning back to their opponent. They rushed to a rock closer to the bunker where they surveyed the approaching army, turning to Balam.

Balam gave them a curt, quick nod and reeled around towards the cannons. 'Return fire!' He commanded, and turned to Atlas, picking up a second halberd that Atlas held out to him. Above him the air crackled with magic and Carmen and Epoch had flown over to the ridge just to make sure every cannon was aimed and fired properly. For cannons the projectiles made a staggering lack of sound upon being fired and it sounded as if a wildfire that trailed bright fiery petals had been shot into the sky, a hyper saturated color against its greyness. They moved slower and just before they found their target, there was the hint of a similar shield being thrown up by the enemy. Something more unexpected happened however. Balam peered into the distance and could see the distinct shapes of dragons diving from the ships and forward into flight just before the shields fully lowered. The fire hit the shields, and as supposed, it imploded in a massive carpet explosion that sent an immense shockwave roaring across the waves in all directions. Arodan had to cover his eye to not be blinded by the sheer intensity of the explosion and it felt as if his head was going to explode from the high pitched screech it created.

The dragons that had jumped seemed to move twice as fast towards them however and the ships, a sizable chunk of the fleet, left the sunken ones behind quickly by riding the waves. They were dressed in lightweight armor, and Arodan could only guess they were the fast infantry, bolting right at them at a terrifying pace.

Arodan watched in utter awe once his eyes adjusted to the light again, and it seemed as if in seconds, the initial standoff devolved into complete chaos. 'What…?' The first dragon landed, a very sizable guardian in shining gold colored armor, who was first to charge into the fray with the rest of the Lux Laterna soldiers that had already left the ships following suit. One battalion of lancers was sent forward by Balam to fend them off and the first organic sounds of steel clashing rang across the battlefield. Swords hit halberds and shorter spears and the first blood on earth fell from the chest dripped from the chest of a Paramo soldier. 

Arodan ran another direction as if his life depended on it. Not away from the fights, but onto a higher rock Carmen and Epoch had just used as vantage point to keep a close eye on the quickly approaching ships that were about to land. He settled on the rock, creeping behind a point in it. Although his mind was blank he found it in himself to remember his spells and maneuvers, fumbling with a small pouch attached to his belt. From it he retrieved a yellowish crystal. He had collected the stones from around the castle and knew full well what he should use them for. 'Gods, I hope this works.'

Above his head a Lux Laterna soldier soared past, hitting the ground with a dull thud on a distance. It didn't move and soon Kassa was balancing on the rock above him, holding a crossbow. 'Get out there magic boy, you don't want to get yourself killed now, do you?'

'I wasn't planning to do so!' Arodan yelped, and steadied his breaths. Kassa was a breath of air at the moment he much needed, they made sure to fend off the current attackers. Finally golden magic flourished and bubbled in his claws, rising in dainty clouds, powered by the crystal which soon lost its luster. The crash of ships on rocks effectively shook his control however and he barely held onto his shred of light, peering around the rock with a swift and cautious glance. The front line of Lux Laterna's fleet had crashed upon the cliffs, no, it was almost as if the ocean floor had risen to breach the hulls of their ships. Epoch and Carmen who had somehow found their way back to the cannons again were aglow with a dull orange aura, their hands reaching forward with their palms facing upwards. It must have been their doing then.

'Okay, time to go.' Kassa commanded and Arodan followed them suit. They lead him across the battlefield and cut down any new attackers with a short sword, Arodan noticed, that was segmented as to be whipped and swung flexibly. Even large dragons went down quickly to Kassa's sword. He took the opportunity to aim his steady hand at a small group of Lux Laterna soldiers currently climbing out of the beached ships. He fired, and the sweep of magic knocked them clean from the boat and into the water below. When Kassa safely managed to run the two of them across the field with Arodan firing more bolts at landing soldiers they left him by a rock by the door to Paramo, at the very center of the building.  Without another word they dashed into the fray again. Arodan immediately readied another bolt of his magic, and caught himself thinking of Atlas. Suddenly it occurred to him, that there were no imperials on Lux Laterna's side and that it didn't make sense to him.

'Arodan, help me out will you?!'

Arodan whipped around and threw a quick glance around the rock before calling forward another bolt of magic and blindly firing. Three soldiers were knocked off their feet, right around Atlas who had called for Arodan's help. 'Atlas, you alright?'

'Thanks to you yes!' Atlas called in return and he turned to Arodan, knocking over another soldier with his tail to give him some time to thankfully nod. 'Danny, give me a hand will you?' Atlas said, and he held out his hand. Arodan caught on to what Atlas meant quickly and fired another bolt, aimed at Atlas, who bent sideways, caught the bolt in his extended claw, and threw it with a portion of magic of his own, the bolt flying for a boat currently not impaled by a rock. It's front was torn to pieces and the people left on it scattered onto the cliff. Arodan ran over to Atlas and joined his side as new Lux Laterna soldiers started to charge them again, looking equal parts furious and fearful. Arodan felt a sliver of doubt again but his fear ruled out any further thoughts for the moment, readying another surge of magic. Atlas however was ahead of him, grabbing the bolt from Arodan's hand and throwing it to blast away the approaching soldiers. 'You know, these dainty little bolts of you don't do a lot of damage to them Dan.' Atlas said, shooting Arodan a concerned look.

'They're short use, just give me a moment.' Arodan said, sounding out of breath. His gaze shot across the battlefield as he searched his bag, spotting Balam had taken to whacking whatever came his way with a hammer in his now bipedal form. Caer stuck to his side as if her own life depended on it with Kassa hovering on but a short distance. There was always a fair distance between Balam and the enemy, and as they were moving along with Paramo's soldiers, it seemed like they were heading in into a strike to Lux Laterna's back. Only one boat remained behind the fleet and what soldiers there were had already disembarked and headed onto land to charge Paramo's army. Their troops remained in their set groups, outnumbering Paramo's forces. Arodan yanked a red crystal from his bag, and the color drained from it. Red, glassy and spiked magic sparked on his claws. Half of the shards that formed were thrown at an approaching squadron. 'Arodan, incoming!' the other half was thrown up just in time, colliding with an incoming ball of arcane magic that sent Arodan and Atlas flying backwards.

'What-'

'Listen, there's no time for you to lie in my arms right now.' Atlas said, his voice breaking with a twinge of fear halfway. When Arodan's head stopped spinning it first occurred to him he was no longer in his draconic form but in a bipedal form, as was Atlas, whose temple bled. Arodan barely noticed his own left arm was bleeding with how he focused on Atlas. 'We should regroup, we might be running around but Paramo's army hasn't broken formation yet!'

'Should we stick to Balam or find Carmen and-Duck!' Arodan jumped Atlas as another blast of magic soared overhead and hit the wall of the bunker which seemed undamaged. 'This is… Awful.' He said through grit teeth, and willed his shaking legs into motion again, taking Atlas with him. Atlas held on to his hand as if it was his tether to reality.

'Carmen and Epoch, Balam is holding up fine!' Atlas yelped in return, and took the lead again. 'Arodan, don't give up on me now.'

'I'm not, it's just-' He interrupted himself to blast a squadron which seemed close to overpowering one of Paramo's squadrons. 'It's gonna be fine, we'll be fine-'

'Yes! Yes, we'll be okay alright, I promise!' Atlas yelled, mimicking Arodan's words. They dove behind a rock, sticking close to the bunker itself. 'Focus on holding out until they can no longer fight!'

'There's something wrong though.' Arodan said, his heart hammering painfully against the inside of his chest. He was sweating buckets at this point. 'W-Where is King Alexander?'

'Why would you ask that?!' Atlas yelled, and shook Arodan, the calm he just found evaporating in an instant. He knew full well what Atlas meant but didn't want to think of it. 'L-Listen, if Alexander was on the field, we would have seen him already.'

'No, this is-' Something clicked in his head and he could see Atlas was already preparing himself to dash into the fray again 'Atlas, why did they run their boats into the cliffs if they anticipate terrain so well?'

'I don't know, maybe they made a mistake and Carmen and Epoch did raise the rocks below.' Atlas responded. He saw Carmen and Epoch were standing on the bunker's roof again, this time firing off their own magic. 'They didn't anticipate that.'

'No, I'm asking you to think about it.' Arodan responded. He pulled another crystal from his bag, a magenta one this time which had thick, snaking magic inside of it. 'What if they did anticipate it?'

'Then that means they intend to stay already, which is a very risky move if you ask me.'

'It means they have something up their sleeve Atlas.'

Atlas quietened, and without another word created a sword out of light in his hands. It didn't seem very wieldable and Arodan guessed creating magical constructs wasn't Atlas' strong point. He slowly crept up, and peered around the rock. 'Okay… If that is true, then what?'

'We find Alexander and figure out what it is that might pose a massive threat.' Arodan curtly said. 'Switch.' Atlas switched places with him immediately so Arodan could actually see around the rock with his good eye. 'I know you said stamina is the key to survival but I don't want to stick around to figure out what has gotten Alexander so assured of victory.'

'Boys, stay behind that rock for a bit!' Carmen leant over the edge of the roof near Arodan and Atlas. She gestured at a cannon Epoch was preparing on a distance. 'Brace yourself!'

'Got it!' Atlas yelled in return, and he pulled Atlas to him, watching Epoch light the fuse. The shot would be intended for a squadron further ahead that was currently not surrounded by Paramo's soldiers.

That shot did not occur.

Arodan watched in horror as the cannon which was aglow with Carmen's magic backfired and sent a blast of flames across the roof. Two cannons flew right off with one crushing a Paramo soldier under it's weight on only a small distance from Arodan and Atlas. Carmen was thrown backwards from the roof, landing next to Arodan and Atlas. Atlas lost a hold of his constructed sword which evaporated immediately. She didn't make a sound, and Arodan's first panicked thought was that she was dead on impact. That was, until she started screaming and grasped at her right arm which looked barely functional. It wasn't pain she bellowed, it was a name. 'Epoch!' She screamed it a few more times, frantically clawing at everything around her so she could move back onto the cannon perches above, willing her wings into being. 'Epoch, answer me, something, please!'

'Carmen, calm down!' Arodan said, wrestling his way under Carmen's arm to lift her. He gestured at Atlas to lift her at her other side. 'Please don't-'

'Let me go, that's my brother up there!'

'We're going, we're going to check on him okay?' Atlas said, stopping her from further struggle. His own wings unfolded, as did Arodan's and in a spur of the moment team effort the ascended with a dual flap of the wings, landing onto the roof of Paramo's bunker. Only the cannons had been significantly damaged, with none being able to be used. 'Epoch?!'

No answer came. Arodan scanned the roof, and saw soldiers that hadn't survived the blast. He spotted something that vaguely resembled Epoch second, sitting up in a shambling and wheezing manner. His face was half seared off and his chest certainly hadn't survived the blast and yet he was alive, and staring right at them, muttering something over and over again.

Arodan guessed it was Carmen's name.

Arodan held Carmen back for just a moment as she was attempting to scramble towards him. Something wasn't right about this, not Epoch, not the air around them, it was the Paramo soldier that had crawled onto the roof and was walking towards Epoch.

'Arodan, you jackass, I have to help him-'

'Arodan, what are you doing?' Atlas asked, his voice laced with unamused confusion. 'Let her go, let her see her brother.' Atlas only reached to stop Carmen from clawing Arodan's face off in an attempt to free herself.

'Him. It's him.' Arodan said, in a quiet monotone. The soldier arrived by Epoch, who was still reaching for Carmen and now fell against the soldier's legs. His gaze drifted between her, and the soldier above. The currently unknown figure lifted the visor of the helmet they wore and Epoch, despite lacking the features that were so recognizable to him, was overcome with terror and scrambled away from the figure, who responded in kind by taking his sword, and driving it through Epoch's chest. He wore an armor adorned with blood that couldn't possibly have been his but that of whoever its former wearer had been, and as soon as he turned and looked at Atlas, Arodan and Carmen, the three of them couldn't help but freeze.

They had found Alexander, and by the way the skin by his eyes wrinkled just a little, Arodan knew he was smiling.

Epoch breathed his last looking at Carmen mouthing a quiet apology to her. It was quiet, it was unremarkable, and achingly unfair. Alexander withdrew his sword and Epoch dropped to the floor limply. Alexander didn't move quite yet, beyond a coy head tilt that said enough about the reason for the cannons malfunctioning so fatally. It was when Arodan was first to move, shakily and slowly raising his hands to take a shot, that Alexander immediately ran to his right and dove from the roof of the bunker into the fray.

This time, Arodan let go of Carmen who rushed over to her brother's body crying and screaming, and he knew she must have hated him for not letting her make an attempt at saving her brother. 'Atlas, we should go find Balam.' he said. No answer came. 'Atlas?' He looked at Atlas and he saw he was standing besides him crying, not even noticing that he was. Atlas shook his head and looked at Arodan with something of a scattered stare. '... Flee inside. You might be safer there.' Arodan continued.

'No.' Atlas quietly said, and he walked around Arodan towards the edge of the roof. Arodan had to jump him again so a bolt of lightning only just missed him and it singed part of his hair. 'Let's go help Balam.' Atlas said, even quieter this time, but he was looking at the battlefield as he said this. Lux Laterna's army was being besieged from the back by Paramo's forces, but Arodan could full well see that their strength in numbers was returning the blow and driving back Paramo's forces towards the cliff, into what essentially had become a large wooden death trap at the bottom of it, if they weren't going to fly. The sole vessel that had remained before the coast was shimmering with the linings of cannons, ready to fire if this occurred. The battle now stood at a fifty-fifty chance of winning but Arodan knew full well that wouldn't be enough for them, and it most certainly wasn't for him. 'He's in trouble Danny.'

'... Yes.' Arodan said, and he brushed gently over Atlas' head in a moment he didn't know what to do. In the next he felt his hand rise to his chest, then forcing it under the lining of his armor to pull out the necklace as if it had compelled him to do so. He could see Balam, still accompanied by Kassa and Caer. He looked desperate and at the end of his wits. Arodan could also see Alexander, making his way through the forces, that parted like a curtain for him as if they instinctively knew it was him despite wearing the armor of his opponent. Lux Laterna's forces drove Paramo's remaining soldiers to the edge, and the battle came to a halt with Alexander boldly stepping to the front of his defense, a row of lancers in bipedal form forming the first row with two draconic rows of casters behind them.

'King Balam, I presume?' Alexander said, in a voice that boomed across the field now that everyone had gone quiet. One Paramo caster took the standstill as a sign to attempt to blast Alexander, and three of Lux Laterna's own casters were quick to shield him. He continued as if nothing had happened. 'I must say, you are quite the formidable fighter, my compliments to your army.'

'Spare me your compliments.' Balam grunted, grasping his hammer just a little more tightly. 'You murder my men, assault my castle, and you have the gall to talk to me like that?'

'Oh, there's no need to get so defensive your majesty, that's war. We kill, we compliment. You can have admiration for the things you hunt if they put up a formidable fight.' Alexander hummed, dusting off his armor. Even from where Arodan was, Alexander looked like he genuinely believed his own words. 'It's sad, but you lose. It's really less painful if you accept it.'

'Come at me coward and I will show you what I think of that.' Balam said, staring Alexander down who looked up at him with a cat like smile that would suit better on a young child than a grown person in stolen, bloodstained armor. 'I challenge you to fight me one on one, how does that sound?'

'I don't know your majesty, that sounds like a gamble.' Alexander said, cheerfully lifting a finger to his lips. He turned to his army. 'There are an awful lot of people for me to disappoint here, what would be in it for me, beyond what I was already going to do?'

Balam couldn't answer that it seemed, and Kassa putting a hand on his shoulder finally seemed to get him to realize what a stupid idea must have seemed. He shook, and fell into a defensive stance. 'What do you have to lose?'

'Well...' Alexander said, turning back to Balam. 'Healthy bones, friends, loved ones, my army.' He threw a quick glance at his army and they seemed to nod in agreement and with a rare trust to their agreeing mutters. He smiled, and rose his sword. 'Surrender, king Balam, and perhaps we can arrange something in trade for your head. Really, this is the best I can offer you.'

Don't, Arodan thought from where he sat. He had retrieved the soul ruby from beneath his armor and it threatened to drop from his hands. Don't you dare do it, he mouthed. By the way Balam moved, he was contemplating it.

Don't do it, he heard Atlas mutter beneath him.

Kassa was looking right at him, with a piercing gaze from behind their shattered glasses. Without another doubt in his mind and a clear head Arodan rose and held the ruby above his head waiting for something to happen. For what felt like an eternity nothing out of the ordinary occurred. So long Arodan assumed it might as well be useless and he could also toss it at some Lux Laterna soldier so someone could shoot him already.

Alexander however, whipped around, and immediately yelled for his forces to scatter. Seconds later something the size of a trading vessel descended upon Lux Laterna's forces like a piece of a starless night sky had come down to devour them, their blood coating the snow below. Sachairi was immense and unrecognizable, and above all incredibly dangerous. He shredded Lux Laterna soldiers indiscriminately, but just as well what soldiers of Paramo hadn't gotten away and whatever arrows and blasts were fired his way barely scratched him.

'What have I done?' Arodan asked himself, and he sank back down to his knees, finding Atlas had disappeared. Even Carmen had disappeared with Epoch's body and he wondered if they had abandoned him.

'Darling, are you just going to sit there and wait 'till you're dead or what?'

He turned slowly and saw Kassa was standing behind him, grinning maniacally with their hands on their hips. How they had gotten to him so fast was a mystery but Balam wasn't in the rampaging Sachairi's general area anymore either. 'You did well kiddo, look at him go.' They hummed a tune and helped Arodan to his feet. 'Of course he'd come if you held it.'

'Kassa, where is everyone?' Arodan asked, wrestling loose from their grip. 'Are they safe, are they unhurt?'

'They've ran into the cave system dear. You'll know where it is.' They pat his head and gave him a little shove into the other direction. 'Now let me do my work.'

'... Work?' Arodan asked, and turned around. 'No, shouldn't you make a run for safety-' Arodan stopped talking as soon as Kassa took off their gloves, revealing blackened hands. The skin on them seemed to swirl with darkness and and lacy patterns. 'You're shade afflicted. Of course.'

'Do you want to see what I do best, Danny boy?' Kassa asked, raising their hands.

'No.'

'Too bad.' Kassa said, and one hand clenched. Sachairi's massive form buckled and gasped, his body seemingly locking up. Kassa's hand opened slowly and they pointed towards one of Lux Laterna's cowering squadrons. Sachairi shook, and then started to fearfully move the direction Kassa pointed, swiping at the squadron and killing a large chunk of it. 'This only works on Shade beings like me, but dang if it isn't handy.'

'Handy!?' Arodan exclaimed, grasping Kassa's shoulder and turning them around. 'This is horrible! You can't just control him!'

'Honey, don't let your righteousness get in the way of safety.' Kassa shoved Arodan away and now controlled Sachairi with their free hand. 'I'm doing this to protect us. If you let him rage, he's going to kill us too and he'll thank me later.'

'He won't! He's...' Arodan gestured wildly, and raised a fist to Kassa. 'He's conscious, he isn't just a mindless being in there, I can't explain it!' He started to pace towards them again. 'Kassa, I will not hesitate to forcefully move you if you don't relinquish control of him right now.'

Kassa gave Arodan a long hard look, turned towards him, and then raised both hands in his direction. His insides seemed to suddenly toil and clench and his limbs stiffened completely, the very fluid between his eyes stirring. 'Arodan, you will leave and head towards the cave system immediately. I'm doing this for all of us.'

'You can't do this-Agh!' The Shade that had been dormant in him for so long now burned and raged in him and it tore him apart mentally. 'K-Kassa, it-it hurts-Stop!'

'Stop struggling then!'

'No!'

'Sorry Danny, but if you don't stop fighting my order, your own body is going to tear itself apart.' Kassa said through grit teeth. 'Don't make me hurt you. Please.'

'You're choosing t-this.' Arodan responded. His spine bent backwards at an angle it would near break. He could feel blood rising in his throat and he hacked to not choke in it. 'K-Kassa, let go-' He saw it too late, the dark form of Sachairi descending upon them both. 'Look out!'

The dark washed over Arodan, and for a brief moment, he felt at peace, and in control, closing his eyes.

[maned-cerdae]

House Cildrvengrove

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<<prev/next>>

ok theres this one part and i hope yall are able to identify it because i want you to imagine delilah and begonia going back and forth like “83c oh hoho” “83c oh ho ho”

“What the actual fuck, Delilah?!” Begonia complained, spitting needles out of her mouth. She looked up and her eyes widened. They were in a space completely enclosed on all sides by the walls of the maze and the only evidence that there was a way in was a slightly thinner area that was hard to spot in the low light.

“This is why you had to be quiet. Only I know this place exists, at least to my knowledge.”

“How did you even find this spot in the first place?”

Delilah winked and tapped her mouth just like at the table. “I have to keep some secrets. But let me just say there’s many spots like this. That’s why everyone comes to the garden for gossip and fights.”

“I know you didn’t bring me here to fight, so what’s the gossip?”

“Mmmm. What first? Let’s see. The thing that is probably most important is about Delphine.”

“What about her?”

“It’s an… open secret that Mesmer and her are a thing. And that she fully expects to be queen. And I can’t imagine she’ll be very happy to have you become the queen instead.”

“Wait, this is the second time you’ve mentioned my marriage to him. It hasn’t been announced yet I thought.”

Delilah winked and tapped her lips, and Begonia decided she was starting to hate when she did that. “Like I said, I have my secrets. But there are a very small group that already know. Me and Freyja shouldn’t necessarily know yet, but when I found out I just had to tell Freyja. She has been rather helpful in helping me gather information and I just couldn’t keep it from her. Has she ever mentioned she’s very in demand as a personal servant? She’ll always have to answer to the king first if he calls as she’s technically supposed to be his, but he doesn’t need her often and she’s free to work for other nobles. You hear quite a bit when you’re a servant it seems.”

“So you brought me all the way out here to tell me to be careful around Delphine because she won’t like that I’m queen? Sure she seemed kind of creepy, but mostly harmless.”

“First, I’m not done, and two, Delphine is an assassin by trade.”

Begonia recoiled in shock. “She’s an assassin?”

“Yes. I remember when Mesmer conquered the clan she was a part of. This was way back, mind you. The three of us were all incredibly young. But the clan was known for producing some of the best spies and assassins in the Wasteland. Delphine was the granddaughter of the matriarch and while her grandmother and mother fought against Mesmer, she joined willingly. That’s why she’s now a lady of the court and they’re dead. She still does work for him sometimes, but in recent years, I suppose since they became a couple and he wants to protect her, Mesmer has been using others and Delphine mostly stays in the palace. That doesn’t make her any less dangerous though. She’s still able to kill you as easily as when the three of us were young.”

“Oh gods, do I want to know what the other things are?”

“It’s less I want to. Hmm. It’s less I want to tell you something, and more I want you to figure something out.”

“I’m not sure I want to get involved.”

“Oh, it shouldn’t end up with you getting hurt. At least, hopefully. I don’t think you've met Mesmer yet, have you?”

“I-I did. At the party. He talked to me.”

Delilah frowned. “But he was upfront the entire time. I was watching him. He sat on the throne and looked practically dead to the world.”

“He’s an illusion mage.”

Delilah blinked. “He’s what?”

“An illusion mage. He had a conversation with me, during it I guessed he either had a distraction or illusion up front, and then afterwards he disappeared. Literally.”

Delilah hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain a lot. I had noticed that sometimes his behavior seemed strange and an illusion would explain that. Casting always tends to take much more effort and is less effective than written spells, and by the way you described it he's casting. But that's not the only thing I find suspicious.”

“What now?”

“If you talked to him, did you notice that he's a Light dragon?”

“Yeah. I thought it was kind of weird that a Light dragon had an empire in the Wasteland and no one really seemed… bothered by it?”

“That's the thing. He claims to have gotten the blessing of the Plaguebringer to start a clan here and that’s a completely valid answer, but there was a servant once who could see ambient magic like it was a physical object. He had said that Mesmer’s magic seemed… mixed. It was like he had both Light and Plague magic, but he definitely doesn’t have heterochromia. Unless he hides it with the illusions? But it would take a massive amount of magic and energy to be able to cast an illusion nearly 24/7.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

“Observe him. You'll end up being around him quite a bit considering you'll be married. If it’s an illusion, surely he can’t keep it up constantly.” Delilah paused and a wicked grin spread slowly across her face. “Hey, Begonia, you wouldn’t happen to know the elemental strengths and weaknesses off the top of your head?”

“I think I know where you’re going with this. But yes, I do know them off the top of my head.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Light strong against Plague?”

“Yup, along with Ice and Fire. We had a native Mirror pack who would do deliveries for us when their roaming brought them near us, but they absolutely refused to handle cildrven aligned with Light, Ice, or Fire. Couldn’t make them touch it for all the gems on Sorneith.”

“So if a dragon produced both Plague and Light magic in their blood at the same time, they would be in immense pain?”

“Again, yes. Probably need to regularly cast off the extra magic of one of the elements or take some pretty strong painkillers.”

“And would either of those things be noticeable if, oh, someone was in close contact with them practically all day every day?”

“Why, of course!”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Well now you’ve got me interested. And if he doesn’t have any evidence of heterochromia, then we know it’s something else. But what else gives a dragon two elements? Nothing I’ve ever heard of. Is the servant still alive?”

“Oh no, they were murdered a long time ago. Apparently ambient magic has some kind of print where he was able to tell who was related to who. Some other nobles caught wind of it and decided they didn’t want a servant easily able to air their dirty laundry.”

Begonia blinked. “O-oh. That’s...”

“Like I said, you probably won’t be murdered, at least for this. Remember to watch out for Delphine though. You’re going to need it after next week.”

“W-what’s happening next week?!”

Delilah winked and tapped her lips, and Begonia just barely bit back a string of curse words directed at her.

[clarusclan]

Don’t miss the full story of Clarus Clan’s Hypnos Scandal!

start: prologue last update: chapter twelve

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The Hypnos Scandal: Chapter Thirteen, Sacrifice

Sarako was in a glen to the north of the Clan’s territory, past the border markings of bright blue flowers. Adagio crossed the border with care, attention on her surroundings. The sun was just rising, and the shadows were still long. She did not want to be caught off guard. But following Sarako was easy - he made no effort to hide his trail.

She came across the glen soon, and as she had done in the graveyard, she hung back from the scene, crouched on the highest bough of a bowed tree. She watched with wide eyes as Sarako moved below her, marching back and forth before a line of dragons, speaking in a low, deadly voice. Her Fae crests were stretched in curiousity, but she kept silent.

It was the the Guardian Grove, she realized with a thrill. They were forlorn, defeated. Some were bloody. Others tucked broken paws and shredded wings close to their body. Some stared at Sarako with hatred in their gaze. Others had their eyes closed tight. None looked like they would live much longer.

She tilted her head as she looked at them. Sarako was moving ahead with his plan, but she thought this part was to be later. It seemed too early for Sarako to start. Hadn’t they agreed on this?

She turned her attention past them all. Where were the two Faes, Arphen and Arthon, who always accompanied the Guardians? The Faes never leave their kin’s side... As Adagio scanned the clearing, she saw a small pile near Sarako’s feet. Her heart thumped, and her blood rushed, screamed, in her ears. The glen was dim, but she knew what the pile was.

Seeing the Faes’ dead bodies - killed by Sarako, whose claws were drenched in their blood - shifted something inside Adagio. She couldn’t help thinking about Sarako killing another Fae … any Fae. A small body crumpling like nothing beneath the Imperial’s mass. A body like her mother’s … or like her’s.

Fighting for a quick distraction, Adagio turned back to the Guardians. She recognized one dragon who was not a member of the Grove - Swiftstrike, his sky-blue and white scales bright against the darkness of the others. Adagio’s crests furrowed for a moment, before she realized he was the one who had called Sarako from the battle. She hadn’t suspected Swiftstrike to be on their side. And he was the one holding heavy iron chains, which were currently tied tightly to the rest of the Guardians, draped along their wings and tying them down.

Ahh …

Then Sarako had had help from both Swiftstrike and Misthaven to trap the Grove. Adagio had been clueless to this plot. It reminded her of when some dragons began to join his side without her knowledge; of when the others had disappeared, killed out of sight, without her consultation. She felt a pang at the thought that Sarako had kept so much from her.

And suddenly Ashlesha’s words came back to her. He may seem to have taken you under his wing, but he is only using you to his own advantage. Adagio shook the deputy’s voice from her mind. He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be.

But betrayal was sinking in regardless of Adagio’s refusal.

Without any thought to Adagio’s inner turmoil, Sarako was still speaking. Adagio could not hear what he was saying, but she remembered what he had said so long ago - before this all began. His words echoed inside her.

Child. Let me handle the rest.

Now Adagio felt the fool. Did he see me as lesser? I was not a worthy enough partner for him? Is it because I am young? I didn’t need to be treated like a princess! I could have handled it all! Thoughts streamed too fast to track, leaving only a bitter taste in their wake.

Tears welled in her eyes before she realized it.

She had always thought that Sarako was doing everything for her, to support her against Sonata. Adagio had hoped to work with Sarako for the better. But now she realized that she was merely an excuse for him and his plans - he would do anything to carry out the Gladekeeper’s darkest wishes. She had wanted everything to work out, for her parents’ Clan to turn to her and leave her parents behind. But Sarako’s ulterior motives did not have room for Adagio.

She was clearly as much as sacrifice to Sarako as the line of Guardians standing in the clearing below. As the priest stepped forward to begin executing the Grove, Adagio turned her back on him. She would not be here for this. In fact, she was sure that Sarako would not get away with this - already, there was a great crashing through the undergrowth coming from the direction of the Clarus Clan border. Adagio’s crests perked, and she held still, her maw hanging open to catch the scent on the air. Beneath the sweat and fear and blood of the Grove, she could smell something else on the wind. Warriors from the Guild of Thorns. They were not even attempting stealth. They were bold. And they were fast.

Adagio looked over her shoulder at the great Imperial, who was busy murmuring a hymn to the Gladekeeper as he made his steady way along the line of Guardians. His work was quick but certainly not clean. Blood spilled to the forest floor, a tribute to the Nature goddess from Her loyal servant.

I should warn Sarako.

But Adagio’s loyalty to the priest had faltered, and she would not be here when he was caught in the midst of his ritual.

“May the Shade catch you cold,” she spat in his direction. The curse felt odd in her mouth, her monotone doing no justice to the fury displayed in her crests. Disgusted with herself and her heavy heart, Adagio took off without another glance to the collection of Guardians, dead and dying, and the single Imperial, doomed.

There was a Clan to the east, allies to the Clarus Clan, with a young prince close in age to her. The border of Clan Nucifera was close by. She would seek refuge there, for now, before word of the coup against Sonata could reach them. What would come next, Adagio wasn’t sure. But for now she would find safety elsewhere - for now.

That’s all she could hope for.

[cheshiresense]

Reading the Aizen/Ichigo verse is so much fun. I have to ask, how do the captains (Urahara, Shinji and the like) feel about this sudden partnership?

Outsider POV, okay. Here’s a short scene from Shinji. I might do a Kisuke one later but it’s late and my laptop needs to update so I want to get this posted and you only get one scene.

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[Shinji, takes place right after his bit here]

Shinji’s still reeling from a bloody nose when he sees something that makes him think he’s also got a concussion.

The most recent Shiba prodigy is fuming in front of him, looking ready and willing to throw down against a Gotei captain right then and there, consequences be damned, but honestly that doesn’t surprise Shinji. He’s friends with Kaien after all, and for all that he and Ichigo seem like night and day most of the time, their tempers are not so different when it comes to defending the people they care about.

And it has become plenty clear that Shiba Ichigo - somehow, someway - has grown to genuinely care about Shinji’s lieutenant.

Nobody does that. It sounds cruel, but it’s one of the things Shinji has noticed– for all that Aizen is widely admired by the younger generation and generally respected by his peers and superiors, he isn’t friends with anyone, and Shinji knows he’s from Rukongai too so he doesn’t even have family, and as a result, Shinji can’t imagine anyone going to bat for Aizen the way Ichigo is doing. Maybe part of that is because - before today - Aizen has certainly never needed anybody going to bat for him, forever giving off an aura of polite confidence and quiet competency, but that - in a way - just isolates him further. The younger Shinigami vie for his attention because they see his talent, skilled without being arrogant, and willing to help without demeaning anyone, and they look no further. On the surface, Aizen Sousuke has always been perfect, and everyone wants to bask in perfection– but at the same time, they know they can never attain it themselves and so they don’t try.

It’s not as if Shiba Ichigo tries either. The boy is talented, no doubt, but honing his skills is the least of what he hangs around Aizen for, because as far as Shinji has seen, Ichigo shows Aizen none of the admiration that those under the man’s regard tend to have, nor does he treat the lieutenant with any kind of eager obeisance that those working under Aizen usually display. They may have started out as student and mentor, but their relationship hasn’t been just that for as long as Shinji has known of it.

Honestly, he’s never been able to put a label on them. Sometimes, he looked at the way Ichigo interacted with Sou-chan, and he could swear the dark bite of hostility in his scowl was real, one wrong word away from outright skewering Aizen on his sword or something equally lethal. But other times, he spotted the way Ichigo grinned in response to Aizen sighing or rolling his eyes - something the lieutenant never did with anybody else, always perfectly patient and perfectly nice - and Shinji could swear they were friends.

It doesn’t make much sense to him, their relationship, even now, because he doesn’t know their past - bumped into each other at the Academy one day, his ass - but he does know what he saw, so Shiba Ichigo coming to Aizen’s defense, even if that means breaking at least half a dozen laws just by striking a captain, is… well, admittedly not something Shinji expected, but also not something particularly shocking even if he doesn’t know any other lower-ranking Shinigami - not even Kaien - who would dare do something like this, especially in public the way they are now, in full view of his entire gawking scandalized Division.

I, Shinji thinks rather ruefully as he simultaneously tries to stem the blood flow while gauging how bad the break is, probably shouldn’t have given the kid blanket permission to come and go from the Fifth since his Academy days just because I was curious.

Nobody even tried to stop him when he stormed in through the front gates like a particularly angry thunderstorm and honing in on Shinji the moment Shinji stepped out into the courtyard to meet them.

And Shinji knows he did something wrong, said something wrong. He’s never been able to find anything that could get under his lieutenant’s skin in all the years they’ve worked together, and yet one mention of Muken and something in Aizen just seemed to… snap.

If Ichigo hadn’t gotten there when he did, Shinji isn’t too proud to admit that he’s pretty sure Aizen would’ve at the very least run him through, perhaps not fatally but definitely before Shinji could draw his own blade. He hadn’t even seen Aizen going for his Zanpakutou before Ichigo physically stopped him from unsheathing it and then flash-stepped both of them away at a speed that probably rivaled Yoruichi at her fastest.

And now here they are, almost two hours later, clothing still ripped, wounds still bleeding, and the scent of smoke still clinging to them. Neither of them look as if they held back at all in whatever spar they’ve clearly just had. Ichigo is seething, and Shinji’s whole face throbs with pain, but in this one moment, all he sees as his gaze slides past Ichigo’s shoulder to the man standing silently behind him, is the expression on Aizen’s face as he stares - wide-eyed and still - at Ichigo’s back.

Maybe it’s because he’s lost his glasses and he’s just more expressive this way, or maybe Shinji really has finally caught him off-guard, because for the first time since Shinji met him, Aizen looks completely, openly, thoroughly stunned. There’s no single name for all the emotions painted across his lieutenant’s facein these precious few seconds, only that it’s something equal parts breathless and startled and shaken, raw and fragile in a way that almost hurts to look at.

And even as Shinji watches, Aizen doesn’t notice. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. But he stares at Ichigo the way one might stare at a miracle they never asked for, at something made of spun glass and hope - with wonder and awe and just a dash of fear, all wrapped up in confusion and disbelief, and all of it aimed at Ichigo as if the boy’s defense of him is something Aizen never even considered might happen.

It doesn’t last. A blink, another, a handful of heartbeats in-between, and then the mask slams home once more, all polite concern and professional alarm in the face of the unexpected altercation.

And so fake Shinji can’t believe nobody else can see it, are they blind?

The courtyard explodes into whispers, and a few Shinigami drift forward like they’re not sure if they should subdue the crazy Twelfth Division member in their midst, only to stop when Aizen waves them back.

But Shinji. Shinji watches the way his own lieutenant brushes past Ichigo, the briefest touch of fingers to a fury-tense elbow that could be dismissed as an accident before Aizen steps in front of the boy and promptly stonewalls Shinji with all the blandly pleasant power of his most earnestly apologetic smile.

“Are you alright, Taichou? I am afraid Shiba-kun got a bit hot-headed over a misunderstanding.” They both ignore Ichigo’s mutinous muttering over misunderstanding nothing damn it. “I can have Akabe-kun escort you to the Fourth. You should get that seen to as soon as possible. I will deal with Shiba-kun in the meantime-”

“Sou-chan,” Shinji cuts him off bluntly, his voice coming out nasal-sounding and irritable. “Shut up.”

He ignores the blistering glare he gets from Ichigo even as he meets the boy’s eyes. “I’m goin’ ta the Fourth. You’re gonna be gone by the time I get back.” He makes sure his voice carries. “When I told ya to work on your hit-and-run tactics, I didn’t mean walk right up to your target and sock them in the face. That’s not how hit-and-run works. And I definitely didn’t mean try it on me.”

Ichigo blinks. Aizen does too. Shinji rolls his eyes and strides away. “Akabe! With me!”

As far as excuses go, it’s not a great one. But people will take it and run with it, and so long as he drops a word to Urahara and make sure the brat gets latrine duty for a week or two, nobody will kick up a fuss about the insubordination or disrespect. Just a misunderstanding, and Ichigo got a slap on the wrist for it. No need to demote him.

Shinji still doesn’t trust Aizen, not by a long shot. But actually hurting him wasn’t his goal either, however unintentionally it happened, and if Ichigo is… is changing him somehow, if Ichigo actually holds sway with Aizen in ways Shinji’s never been capable of…

Then Shinji will back off. For now. He won’t stop watching his lieutenant like a hawk. But he’ll try to see more than Aizen simply manipulating Ichigo for his own ends, try to see too what Ichigo sees in Aizen that’s so worth protecting.

His lieutenant’s face flashes through his mind again, that moment of unguarded emotion that Aizen has never let him see before, and he thinks, for the first time in a long time, he’ll try, really try, to give the man a chance.

[cheshiresense]

I was wondering: are there any snippets or some further headcannon for the bleach-khr-fusion you shared a while back for aniseandspearmint? It's an interesting one, especially if Ichigo were to run into other flameactives and grow away from everyone.

Hmmm to be honest, I haven’t really thought much more of this one, but I can do a few headcanons for you (yes this time it really is a few, kind of). Also this just officially became a crossover instead of a fusion gdi send help.

Somehow this evolved to hints of UraIchiYoru pre-relationship.

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- I imagine at least a few of his potential Guardians would have felt their potential bonds snap. Flames still aren’t something very common though, Ichigo’s the one who brought the concept to the Shinigami’s attention, and most of them still can’t even use them. So I think at least the Shinigami in SS who had the potential to become Ichigo’s Guardians would feel something, maybe a little like heartburn or a nagging sense of wrong, but they’d shake it off or ignore it, especially since Ichigo wouldn’t have had any reason to explain: “This is what happens when you Discord your Sky and this is what a broken Flame bond feels like, the stronger it was, the more it hurts when it snaps.” So none of them know, and they go on with their lives.

- And Shinji and the other Visored are friends (temporary allies, Ichigo knows now) but they’re a full Flame group by themselves and not potential candidates in Ichigo’s circle so they wouldn’t feel anything at all.

- It’s the same with Chad and Ichigo’s other human friends. They don’t know much about Flames either, they’re barely even Flame active, and they’re awkward around Ichigo because they still have everything Ichigo lost, and they don’t want to make him feel left out (they don’t realize they do that anyway). When the bonds disintegrate, there’s a sharp pain in their chests, but it becomes a background ache soon enough, nothing that would make them worry or even connect it to Ichigo, and they don’t realize until far too late that Ichigo has stopped trying to talk to them at all.

- Kisuke though, and Yoruichi to a lesser extent, they feel it, and they might not know exactly what it is, but they probably more than anyone else can recognize Ichigo by his Flames, partly because they’ve been curious enough to ask questions and learn about what Flames can do and what they can do, and partly because they’ve spent too much time around Ichigo, training him, fighting a war with him, and as a result getting to know him– too much time around him to not notice when that Flame sense they’ve been developing - that sense that knows what Ichigo’s Flames feel like by now - practically punches them in the chest when a gaping emptiness rips itself open inside them, in a part of their soul where Ichigo should be. The thing is, they never even realized there was a bond at all - however new - between them and Ichigo before it disintegrated to dust slipping through their fingers. And maybe, maybe they didn’t take Ichigo’s earlier explanations about Flame bonds and Skies and their Elements and Families quite as seriously as they should have. It sounded a touch too idealistic and fantastical, and easy to ignore in favour of the solid evidence of the power Flames can grant instead. It’s not like Flame bonds are necessary, plenty of people go without, as Ichigo told them, and that was as far as they thought they would need to know on that subject.

- So they did not expect this. Yoruichi has been busy with her clan, sorting out inheritances and heirs and all sorts of legalities now that she’s no longer a fugitive but nobody can quite decide if that means she’s the Shihouin Head again, including her. And Kisuke’s been banned from seeing Ichigo by Isshin, who insists it’s for the best that Ichigo should have a normal life again, at least until Kisuke can figure out how to give him his powers back, so Kisuke’s been working as fast as he possibly can, trying to figure out how to do exactly that. He feels more than a little guilty for turning Ichigo away whenever the boy stops by, naked hope on his face, asking to come in, just for a cup of tea, but he tells himself that it’s just a matter of time, he only needs a little more time.

- And then it happens, and Kisuke’s indigo Flames writhe with a moment of absolute agony, almost making him black out, and even when he wakes again and the pain has faded to a near unnoticeable ache, everything in him says to go to Ichigo, now.

- Yoruichi is the same, she’s in the process of getting eyestrain over paperwork that her brother has not been keeping up with as well as he should, when her purple Flames flare and lash out, taking out the far wall and then recoiling and sending her sprawling to the ground and gasping for breath, clutching at something she can no longer find. She ignores the attendants that come pouring in and instead takes off for the Human world at once.

- They both track down Ichigo, and they watch him from the rooftops, out of sight but worried. Ichigo doesn’t seem that different. Sadder, quieter, but he doesn’t look hurt, and he isn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. They decide to give it a few days, see if anything happens. They’re not quite sure what happened, not sure if they should approach him out of the blue about it either– Yoruichi says yes, the direct approach has always worked best with Ichigo; Kisuke says no, it’s a delicate matter, they should observe first, maybe work out what’s going on and at least have an idea about how to fix the problem because what if it affected Ichigo too? What if it was his Flames reacting to something Kisuke and Yoruichi were doing with their Flames? They have been experimenting and training with them after all.

“Later,” Kisuke insists, and it will be another regret he’ll have to carry.

Yoruichi doesn’t speak to him for weeks, afterwards, but she also throws herself into training until she collapses from exhaustion for the first time in centuries, because she should’ve pushed even when Kisuke didn’t, and that’s on her.

- Ichigo had been planning to sit down with all his Flame potentials and go into more detail about it once the war was over and they weren’t all constantly fighting for their lives. He just hadn’t expected everybody to ignore him and push him away the moment he no longer has his Shinigami powers. It’s not like he’s powerless; his Flames still work fine, and they’ve helped him fend off Hollows and yakuza alike for years. And yet nobody seems to think he’s capable of doing anything now that he doesn’t have a sword to swing around.

- So, fine, he doesn’t need them. And with Zangetsu and Shiro’s disappearance, there had already been an ache in his chest, in his heart, in the very depths of his soul. The broken potential bonds add to that pain, but it’s nothing knew and certainly nothing he can’t handle. He does give thanks to every god he’s ever heard of that he wasn’t fucking stupid enough to actually bond with anyone– not because he thought they would desert him the moment he lost his Shinigami heritage but because he’d wanted them to be fully informed of what Flame bonds entail and maybe feel them out a bit too about how they would feel being bonded to him, literally ’til death do they part. He doesn’t think he would’ve survived them walking away if he’d let the bonds form the way they had wanted to, so at least his caution has spared him from that.

- As it is, he gets a few random fevers the first several days, his Flames fluctuating wildly without the support they’ve gotten used to having. And the first few times he summons his Flames to fend off a Hollow or a gang of thugs, they still come out the bright orange he’s always known, but there’s also a murky tint to them that worries him for a little while. He keeps an eye on them, but when they don’t get worse, he counts his blessings and resolves to live with black-tinted Sky Flames for the foreseeable future. They’ll either fix themselves or they won’t.

- Ichigo has family. His Flames are from his mother’s side, and slipped between the pages of one of the books she left him, there are documents - birth certificate, passport, an Italian citizenship, and the contact info of his relatives. His rather infamous mafia relatives, a branch of the Quincy that broke off, disavowed their “King”, and mostly forgotten by the Quincy race as a whole even as they created a new empire for themselves. He never really thought he’d actually meet any of them in person. Masaki never exactly cut ties with them, but once her non-criminal Quincy relatives got a hold of her, and then she got involved with Shinigami, it seemed… wiser to keep the criminal side of her family quiet. She’d told them about Ichigo though, and Ichigo himself has talked to them, chatting regularly on Skype, and they’d made clear that Ichigo was welcome with them anytime if he grew up and decided to embrace his heritage. Ichigo was certain - back then - that while he didn’t begrudge his relatives for their mafia ties, he would never have a reason to join them either.

- But with a dozen broken potential Flame bonds shattered at his feet, no friends, and a family that feels more like people whom he happens to share a house with with each passing day, Ichigo has all the reason in the world to go. At the very least, it will be a fresh start, and he thinks that’s exactly what he needs right now.

- At Ichigo’s request, his cousin gets his emancipation pushed through, quickly and quietly, while Ichigo packs his bags, writes a note for an empty house, and a private jet is waiting for him when he gets to the airport. When he reaches Italy hours later, a limousine, half a dozen guards, and his cousin - sly smile and assessing eyes and all - is waiting for him.

“Ichigo! Welcome to Italy!”

Ichigo gets a hug, one that startles him but he returns it awkwardly after a few seconds. His cousin pulls back, and a plastic bag is thrust under his nose instead.

“Marshmallow?” Byakuran, the young Gesso heir, offers with a smirk even as his own Sky Flames thread carefully with Ichigo’s, lending strength and soothing the tattered edges left behind by the potential bonds.

“They’re too sweet,” Ichigo grumbles but takes one anyway.

“Nonsense,” Byakuran dismisses before slinging an arm over his shoulders and dragging him off to the limo. “Marshmallows are just the perfect amount of sweet.”

They slide into the limo, the door shuts behind Ichigo, and Byakuran’s eyes promptly narrow and frost over. He doesn’t look much like Masaki at all, and nothing like Ichigo, but with his white hair and pale eyes gone dark with anger, all previous airy cheer gone and expression sharpened to something dangerous, he could’ve passed for Ishida Ryuuken’s son.

Quincy blood has always been strong.

“Now,” Ichigo’s cousin says. “You’re going to tell me who Discorded you, and then I’m going to make them very, very sorry.” He pauses a beat. “And of course, you can help me do it.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes, but he has to suppress a smile too, and something in him relaxes for the first time since half his soul was sacrificed for the war.

He’s forgotten just how much he’s always liked this side of his family.

- Back in Karakura, by the time Yoruichi snarls him into obedience and Kisuke admits defeat and they both decide once and for all to ignore Isshin’s wishes, Ichigo is long gone.

[xaz-fr]

Woah man remember this story? About how a bunch of asshole bandits somehow found a piece of the Windsinger's soul and decided TO TOUCH IT??? Because that was a good idea

The Story So Far

@deadpool-scar-bro​ @hikayelastoria​ @cornsnoot-fr​ @redlion-fr​ @mushroomdraggo​ @murdoch-fr​ @tales-around-sornieth​ @frxemriss​ @rainhearts-hatchery​ @rexcaliburr-fr​ @starry-ampelope​ @plainstriderbard​ @reanimatedfr​ @voltaic-ambassador @sirensage-fr​ @ally-fr​ @golden-lionsnake​​ @rookfern​ @fr-dew​ (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

The Bamboo Snakes: 4

The Windsinger’s Heart was the biggest, gaudiest, ugliest thing Bonten had ever seen seen. And that was saying something since a lot of the ship's in the flotella were absolutely horrendous. But they finally got to the damn ship and Jos was very happy to drop the sack. The hatchling sprawled out wing over claw leaving a trail of green feathers. He immediately looked for Bonten who knew better than to land at all.

Jos landed and went to find someone to talk to. The runt tried to bat at Bonten’s tail curling in the air but he kept it out of reach. He checked to make sure the other Bamboo Snakes weren't looking before teasing the little brat with the space of his tail. The hatchling jumped happily trying to teach his tail, making cute hatchling squeaking noises. As soon as the thought came to him he stopped doing that. Don't get attached. Rule number fucking one! As it was they'd all had to stop Jeddie from naming the little bastard. She'd whined about it a good day and a half but had relented.

Jos finally came back with no less than twelve guards and a very regal skydancer who looked like wind in the sky. Bonten didn't like them very much. They approached the group and Bonten hovered at eye level to the skydancer.

“Bonten, this is Patriarch Vizzi,” Jos said.

“Right. So, Vizzi, we brought you your stolen goods,” he pointed at the hatchling. “The reward is substantial your bounty said.”

Vizzi moved past Bonten to the hatchling and looked them over with gentle claws. “What happened?” he asked in Sihngari, directing the question to Jos.

“We found it in a raptorik village. When we went to retrieve it it damn exploded in my face and did this to me!” Bonten cried. He was really tired of being overlooked by these damn Cloudsong dragons just because the clan he'd been born in hadn't been in the Cloudsong and his nest had been in a hollow of earth between two logs his parents had dug.

“You speak Sihngari?” Vizzi seemed genuinely shocked.

“You not see the eyes bird brain?” he pointed at his sharp green eyes which had been getting more and more intensely green the past few weeks since the little runt’s feathers had been coming in in full. “Wind born. Course I know the Sky Tongue, don't fucking insult me.”

Vizzi was hatefully unruffled by his outburst. “I see,” he said. “Well… it seems there is nothing for it.”

“What? What does that mean?” Bonten demanded.

“Do you even know what you have?”

“The egg you wanted hatched. That's all I care about. Now pay up,” Bonten held his claw out.

“I think as you have well stolen from my clan you have already received your payment,” he said calmly.

Bonten squinted at him and looked at the rest of the Bamboo Snakes who were equally confused, even Jos. “Come again?” he asked.

“What the bounty for was for an egg that had formed around a Shard of the Windsinger.”

“Well we did you one better. I don't see the problem.”

Vizzi was not amused. “Tell me, bandit, did you always look like this?” he motioned to his new plumage and the fucking weird new opalesque growth growing between his horns and eyes.

“Well… no,” he admitted.

“Why do you think that is?” Vizzi sounded… bitter and his antenna kept bouncing. Oh that was delicious. “The Shard of the Windsinger bonded with you-

“WhaT?!” Bonten shouted. “Oh no. I did not sign up for this ordered and foolish nonsense. Rather take the wind from my wings,” he hated talking in Sihngari. It was nearly impossible to swear in it. “This is your bounty. I expect us to get paid.”

Vizzi sighed. “No.”

“What?” Bonten shrieked, furious. “We came a long today to bring you this little runt'! The least you could do is pay us for the trouble,” he seethed. Around them the wind was starting to whip harder. The low singing of the Cloudsong raising in fever pitch to a harsh, grating, wail. “Do not fuck with me, Vizzi,” he growled.

If Vizzi was worried he didn't show it. Instead he was snatched out of the air by a guard with him and thrown into an airlock. But still the air shrieked. “The Shard of the Windsinger’s imprinting was to go to someone worthy,” Vizzi said. “Certainly not some lowly spiral with lucky breeding,” he looked Bonten up and down disdainfully.  Bonten bared his teeth at him in a snarl. He looked around at his fellow Snakes and saw they'd also been thrown into airlocks. “But there are no take backs. So while I do not agree with the Shard’s decision it is theirs all the same. Pay you for your bounty I will certainly not do as you have not completely your bounty. You did not bring me my missing egg. You failed in this: you get no payment.” He sighed and paced in front of Bonten’s airlock. “But I cannot allow the Shard to be left alone in the world without help.”

“Let me out!” Bonten cried.

“Perhaps once you've learned some manners, bandit,” Vizzi said, not stopping his thoughtful pacing. The wind began to scream and he finally took notice as clouds started to grow. He looked at the hatchling who was in an aggressive stance towards him, eyes glowing. “Cute,” he said without humor. He went over to the hatchling and gently pet his head. “It is alright little one. I don't intend to hurt your bonded,” he said gently. “He is just acting silly.” Hatchlings could understand Sihngari, any hatchling, double so a Wind one. Comprehension maybe some difficulty but they could understand. “I would never hurt him, or you. And this is the promise of the one who protected you for decades before you decided to join us,” he said in such a soothing tone.

The hatchling squeaked at him, unsure, and his eyes dimmed. The wind calmed to wailing. “That’s it. Don't worry about your bandit. He will be fine. Despite his temper making him a menace to deal with.” The hatchling sneezed like he agreed.

Bonten ground his teeth, “Get away from him. If you aren't paying them fuck you.”

Vizzi got to his proper heigh again and strode back over to him. “Listen well, Bonten, the bandit,” he said scornfully. “I will not pay a single gold of that bounty. But,” he said when Bonten snarled. “I cannot allow you to just galavant across the Plateau with the Shard as a. Pitiful. Hoard-less. Bandit,” he specifically enunciated each word and as he did Bonten growled louder and louder. “So you are free to go. And with you will be one of my Wind-guardians. They will accompany you with the seal of the Windsinger’s Heart. With it you will be able to purchase, with credit, whatever you desire within most trade camps, with the receipt sent to us.”

Bonten was so shocked he stopped growling. “You’re giving us something like that?”

He laughed in that ugly dry way pretentious wind dragons did. “Of course not. It will be with my Wind-guardian, who will accompany you, but more importantly, the Shard, wherever you go. They will be able to buy things with the credit: you, will not.”

Bonten growled. “So you're leaving me with the runt and leaving me with a prissy guardian? Seems like a short stick,” Bonten growled.

“Well. It is that or we could kill you and hope the Shard bonds with someone more willing. But we're a Wind clan of the Windsong; we aren't barbarians. And there's no telling if such a thing will even work. So you are free to go with your Shard and the Wind-guardian.”

“I don't want the damn hatchling, I want money!”

“Too bad. It is that, or death, or nothing. Take your pick, bandit.”

Bonten snarled in hate and looked away from Vizzi. The hatchling wasn't that big of a deal. They could handle keeping an eye on it. In exchange for being able to buy stuff when they wanted it whenever they wanted it? “Fine,” he spat out. “We’ll take the hatchling.”

“A wise decision. I'm surprised you could be so,” Vizzi said.

“Fuck you too Fizzy,” Bonten snarled.

“Release these Bamboo Snakes,” Vizzi said and started to walk away. “See them to proper accomodations and food while I select a Wind-guardian to accompany them.”

“Of course, Patriarch,” and the guard bowed a bit. Bonten was dropped out of his airlock and splattered on the floor. The hatchling romped over to him, the wind dying down to normal, to make sure he was okay.

“Get off,” Bonten shoved his worried head away. The hatchling just squeaked,

“Come with us,” the guards said.

The rest of the Bamboo Snakes came over to him. “Does this mean we can name him now?” Jeddie asked excitedly. Bonten did his best not to glare at her.

[dramarising-replacement]

I sell dragons with art occasionally and a few weeks ago someone who had bought several of them PM'ed me about buying a commission for real life currency. They were obviously a fan of my art and I could use the cash so I said sure. We worked out the details, the price, and agreed that I would send a sketch and after the commissioner approved it I'd invoice them. I finished the sketch in a couple days and sent it, with a message asking them if there were any changes or if it was good.

After a week they hadn't replied. Their profile says they can't get online all the time so I wasn't that worried, until I saw they'd been pretty active in the forums. I sent another PM that said basically "Did you get the sketch I sent? I can resend it if necessary, but I need your approval before I start the full illustration." It's been a whole 'nother week since I sent that one, and they still haven't responded even though they've been on the forums.

Is it worth sending a second follow up? I'm thinking of just saying "Hey, if you don't want the art anymore that's fine, but if you do let me know." and dropping it they still ignore me. I hope they don't ignore me and not only because of the money, the commission is of something that I think is cool as heck and I'd personally love to draw- the sketch was an absolute blast.

The complicated part is that getting "commissioned" like this got me motivated to set up an art shop which I'm going to open probably this weekend (5/10-12), and they're on my art pinglist already (because of the art dragons) and I don't want to just not ping them because it seems rude but i also don't want to ping them because I've got this outstanding thing.

Advice?

[xaz-fr]

@deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss @rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @starry-ampelope @plainstriderbard @reanimatedfr @sirensage-fr @ally-fr @golden-lionsnake​ @rookfern​ @khadjin-fr (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

More cute and soft pairing writing of THE ORIGINAL dragon pairing obsession *sob*. My sweet reincarnated babies Nadalin and Tyberion. In which you should NEVER listen to Gemini ever unless he’s giving your romance advice because somehow? That clown? Has romance on lock? Madness.

Also should mention it’s very very VERY slightly sexual. There’s nothing graphic at all. But you know what’s going on B)

-----

Tyberion looked over his shoulder when a group of birds took off, spurred by a loud shout coming from inside the newly built, open air, pavilion. It was two words and told you all you needed to know. A simple, punctuated “GET OUT!” of intense frustration and irritation. Tyberion frowned and looked back at the older Wildclaw named Saturn he was training with. “Ah- I better go,” he said.

“You'll never regain your old ability if you keep interrupting your training,” Saturn said dismissively.

His scalp prickled in his dragonoid form like trying to make his crest flair. “There's more to life than killing,” he said. She scoffed. He rolled his eyes and left her, putting his sword away at his hip and going to the pavilion.

The pavilion was technically four sides but the walls were made of bamboo with intricate lattice work for windows with paper constructed doors. Dragons were still leaving when he appeared and he saw Ars standing just inside the main doorway. “What happened?” Tyberion asked him.

“it's stressful being a Progenitor reborn,” Ars frowned understandingly.

Tyberion frowned as well. “You dragons ask too much of her. We're not leaders. We're just dragons from a swamp clan.”

“For now,” Ars said, neatly putting his claws in the wide opening of his robe. “I have patience for such things, the others not so much.”

“I told you to get out,” Nadalin's voice snarled from nearby. “That means you, Ars-- oh, Tyberion,” she deflated slightly, happy to see him, her drawn and angry eyes softening.

“Are they giving you a hard time?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she huffed angrily. Are just chuckled. “So I did what you suggested and yelled at them to fuck off when they made me angry.”

“Feels good, right?” Tyberion asked.

“Yes. What are you still doing here, Ars? I told everyone to get out,” she gave her predecessor’s brother a look.

“I will talk to them about being less pushy,” was all Ars said, then he leaned over and gave her a Wildclaw kiss on her cheek and left.

“Uhh! I hate him so much,” she cried once he was gone.

“What? Why? He's so nice,” Tyberion asked and closed the paper door.

“Exactly! He's so nice and understanding! He doesn't even get upset at my outbursts. He's impossible to be angry at: I hate him,” she said moodily and folded her arms irritated.

“I think he does that on purpose,” he said gently and pulled her away from the outer wall. The pavilion, despite the walls, was very bright and airy, and had a central chamber with access to the sky. “He's very old. He's had plenty of time to learn to be kind and understanding.”

“I guess,” she said, pursing her lips. “And how is Saturn?”

“Still obsessed with making me ‘as I was’, whatever that means. From how she talks about Tyberion the First I take it he was not the nicest or kindest sort. I don't think I want to be like that,” it worried him sometimes.

She squeezed his hand, “You don't have to be like anything you don't want to be,” she said. “At least you aren't some damn reincarnated Progenitor and everyone expects you to act all proper and patient all the time. I don't even have time to draw anymore!” she flopped down onto their bed dramatically, her leather wings splayed out behind her. “I haven't seen Helida in weeks either,” she looked to the side, upset.

Tyberion sat next to her. “I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better Saturn is so hell bent on retraining me I hardly get to do anything I enjoy either.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Spend time with you for starters,” and he touched her face gently. “I barely see you.”

She frowned, “I know. I'm sorry.”

“It isn't your fault,” he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

She sighed. “It feels like all I do is sleep and listen to ancient dragons try to teach me things I don't care about.”

“We could stop? We don't owe them anything,” Tyberion reminded her.

She got a far away look in her eye. “But all those dragons,” she said softly. “They were so happy when they saw me. This clan was dying before. It's alive again because of me.”

“I guess,” Tyberion said.

“I'd feel guilty if I took away all that joy, Ty. I know it only feels hard now. Once I'm used to it it won't be so difficult,” she sighed tiredly.

He just sat there, stroking her cheek. “I love you,” he told her gently.

“I love you too,” he loved the way her entire moved to express that too. How it radiated out of her smile like a warm fire. She put her hand over his.

“I learned a new trick recently,” he said, his heart starting to beat harder. It felt odd not having two hearts, it always felt like his single one beat harder and faster to make up for it.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, “From Saturn?”

He scoffed, “I'm pretty sure all her feathers would fall out if she knew I had learned this. She looks at me at once like a child and like the dragon who taught her everything.” Nadalin giggled. “No, this I learned from our actual clan member.”

“Ah, so something practical, useful, and probably actually important for a young dragon to know,” she said, smiling slightly, but not knowing what he was doing. The former Cypress Hall was much more singularly industrious than the former Windshear Caravan. Members of the Hall could take care of everything themselves while the Caravan relied on each other. Neither was better than the other but it led the dragons formerly of the Hall to know a greater variety of things and not just a lot about one thing.

“Well… Sort of,” Tyberion said and blushed a little.

“Who taught you the trick?”

“Gemini-

“Can't trust a single thing he says, you know that,” she teased him.

“Well Sobek said the same thing. Aya backed them both up too, so I'm inclined to believe them.”

“Oh really? Well that's something,” she said. “So I know about this?”

“No… Or, I don't think so.” He'd be a bit upset if she did honestly.

“Ah. Well you going to show me?” she asked, moving a bit on the bed, rustling the covers, curling her wings back up towards her body. Her previous annoyance was gone now.

“Sure. I hope you like it,” he said and took his hand off her face. His tail and wings twitched nervously as he sort of propped her knees up. She just looked at him curiously.

“I already know this trick,” Nadalin snickered as he opened her legs and knelt between them.

“Oh, this is different,” he assured her.

“Too bad, I rather like that trick.”

“It’s as good,” he promised and pulled down her pants.

“I dunno. That’s like my favorite trick,” she giggled and laughed louder when he tickled her under the knee. “No fair!” she yelled. Tyberion just grinned and kissed the side of her knee as apology.

“We can do that after if you don’t like this one,” he promised her, admiring the soft tone in her calf.

“Or if I do like it?” she asked, teeth bright in a smile at him.

He snorted. “Well, yeah,” he scoffed like that was even an option. She jiggled her leg and used some of her magic to pull her underclothes off and tossed them away with a flick of her foot to land in the opposite area as her shorts. Tyberion kissed the inside of her knee and then slowly down further. Down the soft inside of her thigh. She made a curious noise and he knew he’d done it right when she sucked on her teeth and held back a moan as he put his head down between her legs.

[xaz-fr]

@deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss @rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @starry-ampelope @plainstriderbard @reanimatedfr @voltaic-ambassador @sirensage-fr @ally-fr @golden-lionsnake​ @rookfern @fr-dew @khadjin-fr (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

The Story So Far

This one makes me kinda upset. Nari gets very upset ;;

To the Lost City of Mu: 13

Nadalin didn't even want to see Layali. She was just a rude girl who didn't mind using others who were willing to help her. And it wasn't like she could go home. She had no way to get home, just as she had no idea how to get here. She knew roughly where home was, in the southern part of the Sunbeam Ruins but beyond that she wasn't sure she could find home again. She needed to have Sigurrós take her home.

But Sigurrós seemed to have disappeared into the Caravan. She hadn't seen him in days. But somehow she didn't mind.

The city of Mu and the Windsinger’s Tale -which she'd come to learn was the name of the ship- was an ancient marvel and engineering wonder. Her new favorite thing to do was sit with Tyberion around one of the entrances of the Tale and just watch things happen. Dragons move in and out of their home and about the quiet city. Or wander the long corridors of the Tale with Tyberion next to her. Ars said she was more than welcome to explore until Sigurrós could take them home.

She knew he had other motives for wanting her to stay. She wasn't sure about this whole reincarnation thing but he seemed so sure. And the crazy part was that she felt like she did recognize places in the Tale. It was impossible for them to get lost and even as they walked places they'd never been they somehow knew exactly where they were going. Nadalin also saw dragons she'd never seen but had such a string deja vu she felt like she knew them. She was pretty sure Ars had told no one who they were other than to leave them be and they were left to their own devices.

One day they were just sitting on a bench in an indoor park. The bench was meant for dragon shaped dragons and was way too large for them but it was still a good place to sit and watch things happen. This area of the Tale was especially busy. Nadalin had her head on Tyberion’s shoulder and was watching the flow of dragons across the hallway when her eyes zeroed in on one specifically.

She sat up. “Nari?” the name came out without her meaning too.

“Hmm?” Tyberion asked.

Nadalin got up from the bench and approached the Wildclaw talking with a pair of Fae entirely in fin and crest movements. She was black and blue with curled markings across her hide. “Nari?” she asked again.

The Wildclaw stopped what she was doing and turned to her. Her dark Shadow eyes were piercing but she didn't feel afraid. “Can I help you, child?” Nadalin just stared, stunned. “Well you came all the way over here to bother me, what is it?”

“You taught me to walk,” she blurted out, the memory coming with all the force of a speeding Imperial. Picking herself out of her old Guardian skin not unlike when she'd first become humi but instead of this appearance she looked down to great clawed toes and was too embarrassed to let her brother see her helpless like that. But she trusted Nari. 

“Excuse me? You don't have a visa weave, who are you before I call the guard,” she growled.

“I… my name is Nadalin-

Nari hissed. “Do not say that name. You don't even look old enough to have known her,” her crest was flared in anger and she raised her head to make Nadalin submit to her.

Nadalin just stood straight against her and cocked her wings open a bit. She hadn't felt anything for others who claimed to have known her. No spark of memory, not even for Ars. But Nari? There was more trickle of memory. The first day Nari had come to her clan under the endless sky of the Plateau, barely more than tents pounded into the ground and a hollow in the earth dug by Nadalin's claws. Playing tag with their clanmates in the nearby bamboo stand, seeing who was best at navigating the dense bamboo. Saying goodbye to their friends who left to make new stories with other clans or amid the Exalted. Nari comforting Nadalin the first time Tyberion, much gruffer than the one she knew now, had yelled at her after a coli patrol. Both of them head bowed over a table looking at the plan for the Tale.

“Do not raise your crest to me, Nari,” she said and it hardly sounded like her own voice. She was as surprised as Nari by that and when Nari stopped puffinh herself up Nadalin also closed her wings a bit, letting them droop, in surprise, 

“Nads?” Nari asked, purple eyes no longer hard, but rather wide in surprise.

“… No one calls me that, but yes,” Nadalin said softly.

“Ma’am?” one of the Fae asked in monotone.

“Shh,” she silenced them harshly. They were taken aback, their fins flapping back and to the side. Nari reached out and grabbed Nadalin's arm. “It worked? Really worked?” she asked.

“I… I guess,” Nadalin said, for the first time actually truely believing what Ars had told her. The older Wildclaw at once was weeping. That startled Nadalin. “Nari- Nari what's the matter?” she asked.

Nari grabbed her arms with both claws, “You left us, left me, Nadalin. I missed you,” she said, tears in her eyes still. “Ars even said he'd sent you away in the hopes you'd come back.”

“You didn't believe him?”

“I was not going to listen to a fairytale while grieving,” Nari said.

“Nadalin, is everything okay?” Tyberion came up behind her.

“You don't recognize her?” Nadalin asked Tyberion. He just blinked at her in confusion. “Her name is Nari. She was… one of my first friends.”

“And who are you?” Nari hissed protectively.

Tyberion rose to the challenge of her hostility. “Her Guardian, what's it to you,” he growled back.

“Nari. This is Tyberion. Please, don't fight.”

Nari looked him over, confused. “Heh… sure, why not. If I believe you came back I don't know why he couldn't too.”

“Ty, you don't recognize her?”

“I don't,” Tyberion frowned.

“Are you staying, Nads? Please say you're staying, we need you,” Nari said.

“I… I don't know,” she said. “I’m waiting for Sigurrós to be done here in the city. Then I think we will go home-

“But this is your home,” Nari said.

“It isn't,” Nadalin said and she didn't like how hard Nari squeezed her wrists. 

“We made this place together Nads, you can't just leave.”

“Nari I'm not like that woman you knew. I am not a leader.”

“Well you can learn just like you did the first time. I can teach you, it will be fine,” Nari insisted.

“Nari this isn't my home anymore-

“But we need you!” she cried. 

Tyberion grabbed her arm and pulled her claw off Nadalin's arm. “I think that's enough,” he growled. “Nadalin owes you nothing. We came here to help our Progenitor, not to save some Silenced clan.” Nari hissed at him, raising herself up above him, lips curling back from her great teeth. Tyberion just stood his ground. Other dragons around were taking notice and stopping to look.

“Both of you calm down,” Nadalin put her hand on Tyberion’s chest and pushed him back.

“Do not speak to me that way, well. You were an asshole in your last life and now this one. Some things never change,” Nari snarled.

“Enough!” Nadalin snapped, once more her voice barely sounding like her own. “Do not speak to mine like that. You do not know me. I didn't even want to come here. Leave my sight,” and she felt her eyes start to burn.

Nari immediately shrunk away, lowering herself. “I just-

“Leave me,” Nadalin hissed. Nari whined but slunk away.

“Nadalin?” Tyberion asked.

“I’m sorry,” she said and hugged him. “I’m sorry she said such a horrible thing about you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, one arm around her waist.

“It isn't fine! She was supposed to be our friend. My friend. I don't remember her being so mean,” she sniffled.

“Its been very taxing on this clan to come awake from Silence and find their leaders gone. I don't know what her role is but I assume she's stressed.”

“That doesn't make it okay,” she pressed her face into his neck.

He rubbed her lower back slowly. “I know, c'mon, everyone is looking.” He gently pulled her away and she went, holding his hand.

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work.

@colorfulcollectordragon-2f8ee55c @crsedore @deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @i-do-stuff-sometimes-notreally @barkingjester @journey-taken-fr  @lynxstorm27 @starry-ampelope

You get to meet Tassa in this chapter. She’s uh, the best. The only person more of a Judgmental Gay than Spayar is Tassa. 

3. City by the Sea

There was a messenger at the door. They were dressed in the pale blue of the messenger's guild, their tunic proudly bearing the golden insignia in the top left of his chest. It was gods’ balls early and Spayar had heard their light knocking through the window even up a story. His room wasn’t even above the door, Calli’s was, but Calli didn’t wake up for anything. So there was Spayar in barely his night clothes, half awake, at the door and this damn messenger was so chipper and awake. Spayar didn’t know them, but he hated them. “I have a message for Spayar Hillsman junior," they said.

"That's me," he said tiredly and rubbed the side of his face. Why was he alive this early? It hadn’t been fun while serving time and it wasn’t fun now.

"Royal message for you," and they reached into their satchel and pulled out a roll of paper.

Spayar groaned, “Why Von?” he grumbled. The messenger didn't move to go, "You want something?" he asked once he’d taken it.

"Tip?" he asked hopefully.

Spayar almost didn’t give him a tip, for waking him so early. But he wasn’t that much of a dick, this poor guy was just trying to make a living. "Just a tick,” he said.

"Sure," they grinned and Spayar went and found a bronze atrin that he handed to the messenger who smiled brightly, thanked Spayar for his time and left.

Spayar didn't open the message until he was back in his room and laying in bed again. He was going to look at it then go back to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and unrolled the message.

'Spayar, we're going to Peonia. Be at the Westerlance outside the Mire by the eighth bell. No belly aching. I'll buy you a pretty boy when we get there. V'

“Densinn’s tongue…” Spayar got out of bed to look out the window to the big clock tower, the Taldradin, in the Bellringer district that most of the city used to tell their time. It was half past the seventh bell. "Damn that man!" he yelled and rapidly got dressed, splashing his face with some cold water and started to rapidly get everything together, running back and forth from the bathroom and trying not to be too loud.

"Spayar, everything all right?" his mother poked her head out of her room from down the hall as Spayar left his own, fully dressed, his saddle bags already packed and over his shoulder.

"The prince is going to Peonia and dragging me along. I'll be back in a few weeks I'm sure," he didn't sound happy about it. Relora frowned, she'd been expecting more than a week with her son. But when a crown prince was your best friend you did what he said.

"Have fun," she said as he came even with her bedroom door just next to the stairs.

“I’ll try,” he groaned and went down the stairs. He walked across the house to the front door and left through the side yard to where his horse was waiting for him. She didn’t look happy to see him when he opened the stable door and started to put her tack on.

“I know. I know, girl,” he said patting her neck, she just gave a snort and shook her head a bit. “It’s Von okay? Blame him,” and she snorted as if to say, yes, of course she would blame Von for this. He finished saddling her quickly and he started down the street on her back he looked at the Taldradin. As he did the bells started to ring across the city, the eighth bell. He cursed under his breath the entire way down river after kicking her into a swift canter. He didn’t even have a chance to really take in the Mire and the destruction that had befallen it by the spring and early summer flooding.

Von was waiting for him on the road which was starting to get busy leaning forward on his horse, a big, long haired, roan stallion. "There you are, what took you?" Von asked once he saw Spayar.

"Well maybe if you weren't so stupid as to give me half a bell of notice I would have gotten here sooner," Spayar snapped, still in a rotten mood from getting woken up so  early. Normally he'd hold himself back from snapping at Von in public but he was tired and pissed.

Von didn't even seem to notice, or care really, "When I say the eighth bell, I mean the eighth bell, Spayar. Not half past it."

He just groaned in frustration, "Whatever, your royal pain in my ass. Are we going to Peonia or not?"

That brightened Von's mood considerably, "Yes, we are. Lets go, before my keepers realize I'm gone."

"Does anyone know you're leaving?"

"Nope," Von grinned deviously.

Spayar sighed and nudged his horse to follow Von as they turned down the Westerlance that led out of Assarus. There were four cardinal roads in the Alliance that came out of the norther capital like the spokes on a wheel. The Westerlance ran all the way from Assarus to the coast of the Shard, also called the gut, in a nearly straight line. Only the Southernlance was at all crooked and snaked it’s way down the Meltong from Assarus to Surassa and down to the Kas’ca.  Spayar had never properly divined why it went all the way down to the Kas’ca but road building wasn’t really a thing taught in school or by any of his tutors. It would take them four days by the road to reach Peonia nestled against the coast.

"What are we going to do in Peonia?"

"It's just a detour," Von said, "I want to buy something there and then we're going north to Nedrag."

Spayar blinked and prodded his mare up to keep pace with Von's stallion. You didn't just go to Nedrag. For starters there wasn't anything in Nedrag. It was a tiny city set between some cliffs and had no real political or economic importance. It was a city that existed and did some trade with other ports on both sides of the sea but exported little. Nedrag was a city you didn't visit for fun or a holiday either because there was nothing there, it was a fishing city, industrial.

Well, there was one reason you went to Nedrag. Next to the city, separated by only a single wall, was the Rose Garden, an area surrounded by a black wall and buffered against cliffs. The Rose Garden was home to the Rosalia, the governing family of Nedalia, and almost more importantly than that it was the one place on Priman'osta you could go to receive proper training to become a necromancer, a priestess of the death god, Lemp.

Meaning they weren’t going to Nedrag at all.

"You're going to see the new High Priestess?" few had yet to approach her. She was older than them by almost ten years but her mother had just died less than four months ago. He knew because four months ago the priestesses who served in the Arm with him had returned to the Garden for the funeral. The Garden had been mostly sealed since then, or so the priestesses said. But you didn't say no to a crown prince when he came to visit. At least Von hoped so.

"Indeed I am," Von said chipperly. "I heard her daughter's naming day is coming up. I also want to give my personal congratulations and empathy for her mother's passing," he had a pensive look on his face for a moment. "It isn't easy to lose a parent. Right?" he looked at Spayar for agreement. The fact that Von even asked would have been odd coming from anyone else. But because it was Von, he didn’t think twice that of course Von wouldn’t care if his parents died. He was plotting to kill them.

"It isn't," Spayar said. "It isn't a social visit though is it?"

"Oh gods no," Spayar said as they entered one of the main avenues and could put their horses into a quick trot. "Like I would go to the Garden for fun," he made a face, "That's why we're going to Peonia first," he smiled and Spayar just sighed and dropped back to create a single file with the stallion. Sometimes being the best friend of a prince was more trouble than it was truly worth.

—

Compared to their real destination Peonia was an epicenter. The largest and most important port along the coast of the Shard it was one of the most powerful cities in the entire Alliance.

Trade from all across Priman'osta flowed freely through Peonia, even from the Federation. The city was decadence given form and in the wealthy districts, closest to the Keep, everything seemed gilt or rimmed in jewels. In the main avenues of the Golden Peony district, the roads were made of gleaming white stone and the shops were all clean, the bouncers that stood outside nearly every one of them were well dressed and groomed. The traffic moved in an orderly fashion in Peonia unlike in even Assarus where things could get jumbled. Here the police enforced strict traffic rules, especially in the Golden Peony. There were so many people in Peonia, from so many different countries or cities that allowing everyone to do it the way they wanted would have just resulted in chaos.

"You see one you like yet?" Spayar asked Von as they led their horses down the avenue, staying with the flow of traffic. They were looking for a place to spend a few nights before continuing north to Nedrag.

"It isn't dark out, so I can't tell," Von said and Spayar groaned. Along with being an important trade hub on the Shard Peonia was also known as the pleasure city where you could satisfy any vice and just about any sin. Most of the most popular places in Peonia were the brothels, all of them filled with beautiful men and women. It was said the province of Aldash bred even their low commoners beautiful, that there was something in the air that made the people here pretty. Spayar was sure that wasn’t true but he’d yet to meet an ugly Aldashi. Maybe they were just hidden away.

"Von, we're here for an inn, not a bang,” he reminded the prince.

"Same thing," Von flapped his hand at Spayar, "and besides I said I'd buy you a pretty boy. So don't look so glum."

Spayar rolled his eyes, "I am quite capable of finding someone myself," he said.

"I know but I'll pay for it."

"Von you idi-

"Oh, that place," Von pointed to probably the most expensive inn in the Golden Peony. It was a four story building made of soft, pale, wood and creamy stucco walls. The roof was pitched steep and the overhang extended further down than was needed, which kept with the style of Peonia. Large flower baskets hung from the ends of the eaves and the doorman was dressed immaculately with a sapphire leopard lying by his side boredly. They'd paid a wizard to enchant a sign to glow even in the daylight, the large letters announcing it as the Swan Song Inn and Brothel.

Oh, lovely.

"You just had to pick the most famous one in the city didn't you?" Spayar sighed.

The Swan Song was said to have been the first brothel in Peonia, or at least where the Peony family had come from. You couldn't get a clear story about how the Peony had risen to power, the only thing all the stories agreed on was that the first Lady Peony had led an open rebellion against the old King Gerrin with an army of whores and bodyguards during the mid thirteenth century. Gerrin had been killed and she'd installed herself in his place. This was before the country of Aldash had become part of the Alliance in the early sixteen hundreds. But like most small nations here in the south they'd been happy to submit to the Asuras when they came knocking. It was that or fight and end up consumed anyway, or worse, burned to the ground like old Ballentine. Peony had become a major house after they’d bent at knee.

"It's the Swan Song, Spayar, of course we're going to stay there," Von said and they cut across the road to the brothel. A holster came to get their horses. "You get us a room, I'll see to the horses."

"And try to keep your hands to yourself, at least until we get situated," Spayar sighed as Von went with the holster to stable their horses. Spayar walked up to the door, the leopard growled at him a little but the doorman opened the door for him with a nod. Inside the Swan Song was like what it would look like inside a jewel. A grand staircase led up to the second floor where you could rent rooms or flesh and on the first floor was a place to sit, eat, or smoke with couches where women and men lounged, some fully dressed, some half naked.

Spayar ignored them and walked up to the second floor and the reception desk, "Hello sir," the man behind the desk was probably the ugliest man in the building but was still attractive. His skin was dark, common amid those who lived along the gut, the subtropical coast of the eastern Shard, and he wore many golden earrings on his ears and two on either side of his bottom lip. "Have you seen our girls-

"Not here for girls," Spayar said.

"Oh, well we have-

Spayar just sighed, cutting him off. "I just need two rooms. We’re here for the inn, not the entertainment I’m afraid,” Spayar said, "they should have a connecting door.”

"Oh, I see," he looked down at his ledger book.

"I want the best rooms you have."

The man looked him up and down, "Are you sure, sir? Or best rooms are very expensive."

"Yes," because of course Spayar looked like he couldn't afford them, dressed as he was in his riding gear and covered in dirt.

The man sucked one of the rings on his bottom lip, "Of course," he said and made a note in his ledger. He turned around to a wall full of small cubby holes for the keys and picked out two. As he did someone came up behind them, Spayar turned to find Von, with a porter holding their bags. "Can I help you, sir?" the pierced man asked.

"I'm with him," Von pointed at Spayar, "Get our rooms?"

"Yes, I got the rooms," Spayar said.

"They're going to the royal suits," the pierced man told the porter and handed him the keys.

"Why are you so boiled?” Von said as they followed the porter up the stairs to their rooms.

"Because you picked the Swan Song to stay while we're here."

"It's a nice place," Von said.

"I'm going to have to force you away from this place. Don't forget what we're doing here."

Von waved him away, "Don't you worry Spayar, I know well why we're here."

"Then act like it," Spayar scowled at him.

"Here you are, sirs," the porter said, they were on the third floor. He unlocked the doors for them and put their bags down inside each of the rooms. Von put a silver atrin into his hand as a tip and the porter left.

Von closed his door and followed Spayar into his, "Would you just try to relax a little?" he asked.

"I'm sorry I have trouble relaxing when we're on a trip to plan treason," Spayar hissed at him. "Don't forget that's what this is Von; this is treason."

Von frowned at him, "I know what it is Spayar. But I have to," Spayar looked away from him, because he was right. Von had four siblings older than him, and three younger. His mother had given her children plenty of reasons to be wary of in the form of their siblings. It spurred Von to do everything he did, including this plot to overthrow his mother before his older siblings did. If he didn't do it before them he'd die. Von didn't want to die. Spayar didn't want him to die either. They both knew he needed to do this since only an idiot didn't see how much his two eldest siblings craved his mother's throne. Especially now that Teldin was around, making a mess of things by imposing his presence on everyone and making his younger siblings nervous. Von almost didn't even want to be Asuras; he just didn't want to die.

"If you get the Rosalia you'll have a powerful ally," Spayar said and sat in one of the chairs in the room. He wanted to wash and change his clothes but he wouldn't while Von was here.

"It's a calculated risk. I could gain her favor-

"Or piss her off while she's mourning the loss of her mother."

“I know,” Von frowned. "I also want to try for the Drake, maybe.”

"Drake and Rosalia at the same time? You are certainly ambitious," Spayar said, "what would offer Lord Jollen to work with not just you, but the Rosalia?"

"I don't know yet."

Spayar drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, "Well, you better figure it out."

"Can we try to enjoy ourselves while we're here at least?" Von asked and brushed his fingers across the top of Spayar's had. Spayar shivered and did his best to not let it show. Von smiled at him a bit as Spayar looked up at him, still moody.

Finally he sighed, "Okay."

"Excellent, now excuse me I need to wash. I saw there was a new show playing at the theater down the street. I’m sure someone would be happy to accompany me,” and he made for the door. "You find someone you like too-

"Bye Von!" Spayar yelled after him and Von laughed as he darted out of the door to his own room. Spayar groaned and rubbed his head. He was a masochist, it was the only explanation for why it was he did what he did and why he continued to torment himself. Maybe he should find someone to enjoy while he was here, some blond white boy with blue eyes would probably help. At the very least it’d be a start.

—

The streets of the Golden Peony were rather crowded as it got later. Spayar, Von, and a whore he’d bought from the Swan Song were on their way to a well known theater to watch one of the new plays showing. "So me and my friend are going to a party," Von was telling the pretty thing hanging off his arm as the three of them walked down the sidewalk.

"Really?" she asked, "Do I get to come?" she batted her eyes at him.

"I'm afraid not. I don't think your company would be welcome.”

"Nonsense, I make any party better," she claimed.

"It's for a three year old's naming day," Von said.

"Oh," she made a slight face and Spayar laughed.

"I don't think they're mother would appreciate me bringing you along," Von apologized. "But, perhaps you can help.”

"Anything," she said sweetly, holding onto Von’s arm with both hands.

"I have no idea what to get a little girl for her naming day," and the whore laughed. "Would you be able to help me with that?"

"I think I can do that, my lord," she said and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. Von, if anything, looked sort of awkward and blushed, looking away. Spayar just frowned but resisted the urge to pull her off him. Von could do what he wanted.

"You didn’t find anything interesting Spayar?" Von asked him.

"Von," Spayar said, "I know you mean well, but really knock it off," he gave his friend a look.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, Spayar couldn't remember her name, it was Jasmine, or Camellia, or Lily or some flower name like the Aldashi liked to give themselves.

"My friend is being a stick in the mud," Von said as they arrived at the theater and got in line. Normally Von would just announce himself as a Le'Acard and not only would they be seen in that moment but they'd also get the best seats in the house. But Von didn't want others, especially Aklin, to know he was here. So they waited in line. "Can't seem to enjoy himself in Peonia."

"Oh my, that's terrible," she said, "Well I have some friends who might be able to help him with that," and Spayar just gave her an unamused look. It’s take more than a whore to make him flustered.

"See Spayar," Von grinned at him.

"I doubt it," Spayar said.

"Is that a challenge?" she asked him as they moved up in the short line.

"Spayar has a very acquired taste," Von said, "he isn't so keen on the fairer sex."

Her eyes changed instantly, she almost seemed disappointed, "The best looking ones always do," she sighed.

Von paused, looked between them and then said to Spayar, "I think she just called me ugly."

Spayar laughed, "I think she did," he agreed.

"Ah, no, never," she was quick to assure Von. "It's just we don't get many of his kind around here. Dirinnans aren't the most common sort even in Peonia and I know all manner of girls who'd love to get their hands on his dark skin," and this time Spayar wasn't the only one who flushed. The tips of Von's pointed ears turned pink. "I think I could find someone you'd like though," she promised with a sweet grin.

"I think that would be an excellent idea Mari," Von said. Of course; Marigold, how had Spayar forgotten that? Right, because he didn’t care. They they were at the kiosk, "Three balcony tickets," Von said and pulled out his purse. It was five and a half silver which Von handed over without looking and was given their tickets. "Should we get something to eat while we watch the play?" he asked Mari.

"Yes," Mari said.

"Spayar," he handed Spayar his purse, which was actually rather light, he'd left most of his money back at the Swan Song, "go get us something. And try to have a good time," he winked at him and led Mari to an usher who looked at their tickets and led them away. Spayar frowned after them a moment before going to find a concession.

One day he was going to be rewarded for all this errand running and mess cleaning. It seemed like the moment he'd met Von he'd become the man's keeper. When his tutor couldn't find Von for lessons they'd go find Spayar and even if Spayar didn't know where he was he was expected to locate the prince. He'd been picking up after Von for nearly ten years, sure he also helped make the mess most of the time but that didn't mean he always enjoyed the aftermath of it. One day he wouldn't serve a prince, but the Asuras and his advisors would be the one cleaning up Von's messes, that or Von wouldn't make so many damn messes.

A pretty girl took his order at the counter, they'd bring their food once it was ready, straight to their balcony. It was a service only offered to those who had one you had to prove with your ticket. He was paying when he felt someone looking at him. He paid he looked to find who was watching him.

He stared in complete confusion. What in the world? He stepped out of line and rubbed the middle of his forehead to clear his third eye because he was sure he was seeing things. But the woman was still there and she seemed just as surprised to see him. He went over to her.

“Tassa?” he asked, unable to believe she was here. Peonia was the last place he’d ever expect to see Tassa.

“Oh, my gods,” Tassa said, her eyes wide, “I didn’t think it was you,” and she hugged him. He hugged her back tightly. He hadn’t seen Tassa since he’d gone to serve time. Spayar had only a handful of ‘old’ friends, but she was by far the one he’d had the longest. They’d both gone to the same public magic school as children in Uptown. There Spayar, completely by accident, had made friends with the daughter Peony court representative during a mandatory magic class all gifted children had to take, so they didn’t end up blowing themselves or someone else up by accident. She wasn’t much of a court flower though and preferred to act like she wasn’t even related to a governing family at all. “It feels like forever,” she said, still hugging him.

“Yeah,” Spayar said and they parted. Tassa was, to be described in a single word; magnificent. She was probably the most beautiful woman Spayar knew, if only because he’d never seen more fools trip over themselves to win her favor with large eyes, elegant eyebrows, full, pouting mouth, small nose, wide hips, narrow waist and perfectly proportioned like Anceion had taken special attention to her vessel. Her long black hair was done up in ringlets and several expensive hair clips made of jewels and gold held it back out her perfectly shaped face accented delicatly with a golden lip ring on her lower lip. Her dress was extravagant and form fitting, leaving not a single curve to the imagination, and was a scathing blue color that matched her eyes and was almost hard to look at.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding his arm.

“I’m here with Vondugard, we’re just… Visiting,” he said.

“I see,” she said, not believing him for even a moment.

“And what are you doing here?” Spayar asked. Tassa was a Peony, but not part of the main noble house. He knew Tassa hated Peonia and preferred Assarus where here father had raised her.

She sighed laboriously, “I’m visiting my cousin,” she admitted quietly. “He asked me to come to the opening of his new play he produced a month ago and well, I did. I’ve been here ever since.”

“You sound thrilled,” Spayar said dryly.

“He’s so incredibly boring Spayar,” she complained. “I think he’s trying to get me to marry his son,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s a Tann,” she said like that explained everything. To an Aldashi like Tassa is did as their familial hierarchy was strict. Tassa’s father was an Ito, third rank, Tann was sixth rank, the bottom of the familial pyramid. It meant Tassa and her cousin were removed from each other by blood at least three times. Not ideal but legal either way.

Spayar winced in sympathy, “Is his son at least bangable?” he asked.

“Not even,” she groused, “he hasn’t even served his time. He’s a boy. Oh, there they are,” and she forced a smile and waved over Spayar’s shoulder. Spayar turned around and saw an older man standing with a young man, waiting for her. The older man waved back. Spayar grimaced, her cousin seemed far too large for his clothes and his son hadn’t yet grown into his strangely large nose. Neither of them were ugly exactly but he could see why Tassa was upset. “Save me,” she said desperately, grabbing his arm tightly.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it?”

“Can’t I watch the play with you?” she asked, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “Please?” she gave him her cutest pout.

“I thought we’ve been over this that I’m not at all impressed by your girlish charms,” he said dully.

“Don’t be annoying, Spay,” she said.

“Alright, you can see it with me,” he said, she smiled at him. “What about your cousin?”

“What about him?” she asked and he was about to clarify when she put her hand over his mouth and stage kissed him. A long stage kiss. He groaned in annoyance but at the very least played along, putting his arm around her waist. Then she let him go and ignored his annoyed look. “Just show me to your seats,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and lifting up the long train of her dress so the delicate fabric didn’t drag along the carpet.

“Won’t your cousin be mad?” he asked as he started to walk away.

“I’ve been here a month, he knows my patience is wearing thin. As it is I’ve already brought men home with me a few nights, and some of them came with the help of some coin. Hopefully now he’ll send me home.”

“One can only hope,” Spayar said dryly. “But was that necessary?”

“I wanted him to see I’m interested in men and not little boys,” she leaned against him a bit, “You’re the best man I know.” And he frowned a bit. That should have made him feel good about himself, but it didn’t in the slightest. It just made him feel like a jerk honestly.

They found an usher who directed them to the balcony their tickets were for. When they tried to send Tassa away she just told him who she was and he not only apologized, he bowed and said he hoped she enjoyed the play.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor and their conversation stopped when they saw someone crouched, eye against a door he realized was the balcony Von and Marigold were in. They wore the clothes of a middle class Aldashi, and didn’t look like they belonged and had no piercings on their ears other than a single one and a lip ring.

Spayar went over to them ad grabbed them by the back of the neck, making them stand. The man yelped in surprise and still holding their neck made them look at him, "What do you think you're doing?" Spayar asked with a mean smile.

"Uh..." Spayar recognized them. Not personally perhaps, but he knew who this man was.

He shook them roughly. "You tell the spymaster His Highness Vondugard is enjoying a trip uninterrupted to Peonia. If I find any of his men skulking around him while we're here I'll take their tongues like Anceion and have them kicked out of Peonia. You can tell him Hillsman told you. He’ll know I’m good for it,” he sneered. He probably wouldn’t but they didn’t need to know that. Tongue cutting was such an annoying practice, every interrogator and torturer said so. It made who they worked on useless. Especially if they were Fed or from some other country since unlike in the Alliance they didn’t tend to make sure everyone was educated enough to know how to read or write anything they weren’t supposed to.

“Y-Yes my lord!” they cried, terrified. Spayar tossed the man towards the stairs. They scrambled to their feet and nearly ran down the stairs. He saw Tassa make a subtle hand motion and whisper the words of a spell. They both heard the man lose his footing half way down the stairs and cry out as he crashed down the rest of the flight.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he told her.

“Spies and thieves don’t really get along well,” was her only excuse. “Vondugard and his flower are in there?”

Spayar just nodded and opened the door, he was surprised something more wasn’t happening with the way Marigold had been holding onto Von like he was a golden leopard. But they were just talking. From the slump of Marigold’s shoulders she looked bored and that made Spayar smile a bit. Spayar closed the door loudly and Von turned around in his seat. "There you are," Von said. Then his eyes drifted over to Tassa and they widened slightly. “Tassa,” he said, mouth open a bit.

“Your Highness,” she said and bowed, but she did it in the same way that Spayar did it where she did it to annoy him. But coming from Tassa it was far more elegant and less sarcastic.

"Food will be along in a bit," Spayar said and sat down on Von's other side.

“Who are you?” Marigold asked, practically glaring at Tassa. Spayar didn’t blame her for feeling threatened. Next to Tassa Marigold looked like a girl done up in woman’s makeup, applied too thick to hide the fact that she might not have been as pretty underneath.

“Tassa Ito-Hau-Peony, flower,” Tassa said with all the regality of her status and elegantly sat on Spayar’s other side, pulling the skirt of her dress up just so. Marigold positively wilted. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again Vondugard,” and it was like Marigold wasn’t even there. Von could only look at Tassa. Sometimes Spayar really did have to wonder about the allure women had on straight men. He never acted like this around handsome men. At least he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Indeed,” Von said and swallowed, closing his mouth but still staring openly.

“Oh, the play’s starting,” Marigold said, drawing Von’s attention away from Tassa’s perfection towards the stage below. Spayar leaned over the banister to look down before leaning back again as the first few actors came out. Spayar wasn’t really watching. He was thinking about Aklin’s man. If he was here that was bad for all of them. Aklin and thus the Asuras would know Von was here within the day, if not a few bells depending if how quickly that spy could get to a post office and if it was even still open.

Intermission happened and the food was finally brought. They got up from their chairs at the front of the balcony to eat at a small table at the back of it. As they ate Spayar leaned over to Von to speak softly, "One of Aklin's men was outside your room.”

"They were? Damn," Von muttered.

"I handled it. But it'd be a good idea if we left tonight, or early tomorrow."

Von frowned, "We just got here," he whined.

"Yes. But my threat won't outweigh Aklin's orders to keep an eye on you for very long. This one was clumsy, the next one won't be."

Von sighed, "You're right-

"As usual."

"Only some of the time," Von said. "We'll leave tomorrow. I want to at least have some time here."

"Okay," he let Von go back to his meal, "we can always come back," he added, his voice level normal now, "after the party."

"Ah! An excellent idea Spayar," Von said, "Seems you can have some fun."

"Everything all right my lord?" Marigold asked Von.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over," Von said and patted her thigh. Spayar just sighed softly.

They finished their dinner and watched the rest of the play, Spayar paying a bit more attention to it than before but was lost anyway because he’d zoned out during the first half. He could tell it was about some Aldashi legend involving a man with a bird’s head and something that looked like a strider but wasn’t fighting over the love of a woman. Or something, he was lost. He was just glad when it was finally over.

The four of them got up and left the balcony room, as they did Tassa put herself between Marigold and Von, putting her hand through Von’s arm. Spayar tried really hard not to laugh since Marigold immediately soured and Von looked beside himself.

“So what are we doing now?” Tassa asked when they left the theater. It was dark out and the street was lined and lit by alchemic lamp poles at regular intervals down either side of the sidewalk.

“We were going to buy a gift for a little girl’s naming day,” Spayar said.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Tassa said.

“You weren’t invited whore,” Mari said in the same way regular Feylon did and not the way usual Aldashi would use the word. It was the only Aldrese word Spayar knew because Tassa had gotten fed up one day while listening to people from Assarus talk about prostitutes. He’d gotten the entire etymology lesson about the Aldashi word whore, which basically just meant an entertainer, some who did perform sexual acts, some who didn’t.

Tassa turned to Marigold, a placating smile on her face. It was similar to the one Spayar had seen on Sinco’s face as he told the Puke Brigade that no, the food was perfectly fine for consumption and couldn’t possibly be tainted. In possibly the most polite tone Spayar had ever heard Tassa speak she said something to the other woman. All in Aldrese and over Spayar’s head. Marigold got very pale and then flushed brightly in humiliation. Spayar cocked his head when Marigold stormed off.

“Tassa, I paid for that,” Von complained.

“From where, the street?” Tassa asked snidely, “slut,” okay Spayar also knew that Aldrese word too. Tassa also got mad at feylon who used that word incorrectly too.

“She works at the Swan Song,” Von huffed.

“The Swan Song is a tourist trap, your Highness,” she said, “the people there are third rate at best. Now, what was this about a gift for a little girl?” and she expertly guided Von away from the theater and the conversation of his bad taste in women, Spayar following after.

“We’re going north to Nedrag for the new High Priestess’ daughter’s naming day,” Spayar supplied.

“How old is she?” Tassa asked Von. Spayar couldn’t see Von’s confused face, but he could guess.

“She’s two,” Spayar supplied, “It’s her first daughter,” he added.

“Hmmm, I think… there’s a nice little shop just down the street. They’re mostly imports from across the Sea, but affordable, and carry jewelry and little this and such. Perfect for a little girl.”

“Then lead the way,” Von said, motioning to her. Tassa led them to a large store front, and within every surface was covered in something to be sold. Glass jars, scarves, gloves, Joti incense by the stick, rings, bracelets, and necklaces all hung from walls and off stands. It all looked to be incredibly high quality and each piece of jewelry was unique and had its own peg on the wall. In the shop front, behind glass, was a piercer, sitting on a stool boredly reading a book with pages that were well cat eared at the corners.

“I don’t want anything too gaudy,” Von said, still just following Tassa, not knowing at all what to get a little girl.

“Of course not,” Tassa cooed. “Maybe a hair comb from Anokai?” she asked and they stopped in front of an array of combs that you were supposed to leave in the hair as decoration as well as use it as a comb. “One with wide teeth,” she pointed at one with a bird on it. “Though the Nedalian love their deer,” and she pointed to another one of a deer curled up in the grass.

“Hmmm,” Von unhooked his arm from Tassa and started to really look at them hard.

Spayar went to stand up next to Tassa, “What’s your game?” he asked.

“None really,” she said, “that slut he bought just bothered me. I thought you’d have better judgement of who you let close to your prince,” and Von wasn’t paying attention to them at all. He was talking with the store clerk about what sort of comb would be best for the kinky sort of hair Nedalians had.

“And?”

“Let me come? If I say I’m going to a Governor’s daughter’s naming day it’ll be a good enough excuse to get out of here without being rude. You know my father is always telling me to be less of that,” Tassa said.

“Yes,” Spayar said, “and your father, wonderful man that he is, has the backbone of a squished grape,” and that made Tassa giggle just a bit. He’d met Kenna, nice man, very quiet and unassuming. Didn’t have a confidant bone in his body either.

“Please, Spay?” she asked sweetly.

He sighed, “I’ll ask. I don’t know if you can come.”

“Excellent,” and she kissed his cheek.

He grimaced and made a gross sound that made Von turn around and look at them, “Everything all right?” Von asked.

“Tassa’s just getting her girl germs all over me,” Spayar said making a grossed out face that made Von laugh a little. Tassa did not.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@griminal-rising @deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr  @tales-around-sornieth (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

like my writing? Consider buying me a coffee

The continued saga of ‘local swamp man keeps fucking up while lady in his life watches on with growing worry’ which is BASICALLY my clan at this point cause all my dudes are stupid as fuck. Dilarus might be up there with Reza in the stupid man category like god damn

A New Face

This island was unknown to Sobek other than he'd been told by Vrej numerous times not to go there. He went there anyway because the dragons in there could help him. The thought felt sour in his mind that he'd stoop so low to seek the aid of dragons. He already knew his kin would hiss and scorn him for what he was going to do but he didn't care. It was important to him. He didn't want to see Vrej look at him like she had when he'd confessed to her. Sad, pitying, and regretful.

The opening of the Warren yawned open, plunging deep into the earth. A soft, cool, breeze filtered out of the cavernous opening and made some if the hair around his face shift. He couldn't see very far, only as far as the first bend in the tunnels. His tail tip twitched nervously before he went down into the depths.

It grew dark faster than he expected and Sobek was plunged into darkness. At least for a moment. He raised a hand and fire came up and licked across his fingers and claws. The flame was only that of a candle but it was more than enough to see by. The tunnel was dug by something other than dragon claws but he wasn't quite sure what and thought it better not to wonder too deeply. He probably didn't want to know if it made tunnels large enough for Imperials to walk through with space both above and on either side.

He had no idea where he was going. He just slithered along the ground following the left wall. It took him some time but eventually he came to part of the tunnels with doors in the side. Metal things bolted into the earth with straps across it. What on earth did they keep inside that they needed metal doors. It didn't occur to Sobek that the doors might be used to keep something out as well.

He held his breath when one of the doors open and a humi shaped imperial stepped out. They were very tall and fit with their blonde hair up in a messy bun at the top of their head. Sobek didn't move as if doing so would make him not see a serthis in their lair. The imperial looked up and down the tunnel briefly and then at him. Faster than he expected the imperial jumped him and shoved him hard against the soft wall. “And now what is a thing like you doing in the Warren? You're a long way from the Serpent Fangs,” he said, his green eyes starting to glow. He used his wings to further corner Sobek against the wall, his hands gripping Sobek’ wrists so hard he lost control of the fire on his hand and they were plunged into darkness.

“Pleassse, I'm not tribal,” he stammered, half hissing it. “Friend of Vrej.”

The glowing eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? Beastclan aren’t welcome in the Warren.”

“Ssseek help.”

“With what?”

“Dra-gonsss good withs magic. Better than ssserthis.”

“This is true. You want magical help? With what?”

He was glad it was dark. Sobek felt his face heat up in embarrassment and not a little humiliation for what he was going to say. “Want to not be beassstclan.”

The eyes unnarowed. “What’s your name?”

He focused on not letting his accent get in the way of his name. Vrej always said he said his name so cute with his hissing and he knew that wouldn’t be good here. “Sobek,” he didn’t hiss out the end only by biting his own tongue.

“You want to get rid of that tail of yours, is that it?”

“Yesss.”

He leaned back away from Sobek a bit, looking down at him with cool eyes. Then he let go of one of Sobek’ wrists and snapped his fingers. Several lamps up and down the tunnel immediately turned on, bathing them in a soft amber light. “Who were you looking for here?”

“Hear thingsss when dra-gonsss visssit Vrej for healing. They sssay Ssavathhhün is a powerful witch.”

“She hates beastclan. You’re lucky I found you first or she’d have her mate gobble you right up.” Sobek gulped. “I think something out. Do you really wanna be humi?” Sobek nodded. “Why?” Sobek didn’t answer. They squeezed the wrist they were still holding and Sobek felt his bones grind, making him grimace in pain. “Why?” he said again.

If he said the pain would stop. “Love Vrej,” he blurted out.

He was surprised by the Imperials honest surprise and then almost sympathy. “Heh. Ladies make you do stupid things, I get that. Come with me,” he dragged Sobek back to the door he’d come out of. Sobek was shoved inside. “Stay here, don’t wander. I’ll be back.”

“Where?” Sobek asked.

“Just wait,” he said and before Sobek could stop him he closed the metal door and he heard it lock. He tried the door but while the handle worked it was barred from the outside by the straps he’d seen.

Furious he looked around and found he was in what looked like this Imperial’s living quarters. It was one large room sectioned off by folding screens with a big bed in the corner. Sobek slithered over to the rug and curled up on it. He didn’t want to touch anything or get into any trouble and he knew better than to get nosy with a dragon’s things. Even Vrej, for all that she allowed Sobek and the rest free reign over her home there were certain places and things that if they touched she’d get very angry and scold you or drag you away from where you weren’t supposed to be. The Imperial was bigger and stronger than Vrej. He didn’t want to make a mistake.

He waited a while. He wasn’t sure how long. Then he heard the door unlock and he turned and looked as the door opened. The blonde humi Imperial stepped through the door and held it open for a woman with deep red hair. He sunk down a bit in his coils defensively. “Sobek, this is the witch Astra, she’s going to help you.” He eyed the two of them distrustfully.

“I’ve not heard of you,” Sobek said as she walked over to him. He could tell by her wings and the big gem in the middle of her forehead that she was a Skydancer and that didn’t put him at ease.

“Good,” Astra said. The Imperial stood to the side, arms folded, watching to make sure Sobek didn’t do anything. “I think we can help each other, Sobek.”

“How’sss thhhat?”

“I need someone dead-

“No.”

She giggled, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to kill them. I want them weak. I know there are several serthis in Vrej’s colony who specialize in synthesizing antivemon for various serthis types. And that’s great, just great but I have no use for antivenom. I will do the ritual with you to change you into a humi, teach you to walk even, in return, I want you to make me a poison that will weaken but not kill someone until the time comes that they are to die. Is that something you can do?”

Sobek was wary of this Astra. “What if I sssay no?”

“Well I’ll throw you out and you can wander the Warren and hope you find Savathün in an agreeable mood. I’m sure my brother has told you she isn’t the biggest fan of beastclan, hmm?” she asked and brushed some of her long hair out of her face. He nodded. “But know that she isn’t the only thing in the Warren you have to be worried about. Do we have a deal?”

Sobek was hesitant. Astra standing above him, looking down onto him, made him nervous. But he’d come here looking for help and knew more than any dragons just didn’t do something for free unless it benefitted them. If he wanted her help he’d have to pay. And all he had to do was make a poison. He was capable of doing that. All serthis knew how to make poison from their venom or the venom of their kin to apply to arrow or blades or claws. He could make a poison to weaken. “I will do it,” he nodded.

“Excellent,” and she clapped her hands together, delighted. “You can stay here and Aten and I will prepare the ritual. It will take some time but we should be able to start it today.”

“Very well.”

“Aten will retrieve you when the times comes, now behave,” she said nicely with a smile. He nodded a little and the siblings left the room.

Once they were gone Sobek realized his heart was pounding and he was glad they were gone. Then he realized he was once more alone in a dragon’s abode. He hunkered down in his coils and just tried to be small. As time passed he got bored and started humming to himself. A long time passed and he ended up dozing curled up in his coils to protect the more fragile part of his upper body. He roused himself when the door opened and the same blonde Imperial came in.

“It’s time, get up,” Aten said gruffly.

Sobek yawned but did get up and only sort of raised himself up as he slithered over to Aten. Aten motioned for him to leave the room and he waited in the hallway outside while Aten locked his door. “Why do you have metal doorsss?” he asked. “You are dra-gonsss, what could hurt you?”

Aten gave him a look. “Plenty, especially in the Warren,” and that was all he said. Sobek was too intimidated to ask more questions.

They walked down the tunnel to another tunnel and that led deep into the earth where it was cold and the only light came from an orb Aten carried in his hand that glowed with low lamp light. Finally they came to another metal door Aten decided was the one they needed and he opened it. It was low light inside but he could see what looked like a bed in the corner of the room and an altar. Sobek was nervous as Aten locked the door behind them and walked over to Astra who was sitting on a stool reading a tome was thick as Sobek’ fist. She pushed her hair out of her face which was pensive in concentration. She looked up when Aten approached and smiled at him then her bright, pale, green eyes looked behind him and saw Sobek.

“No need to be afraid, Sobek,” and she beckoned to him with a finger. Sobek slowly slithered over to her. “This is where I’ll perform the ritual. If you were a dragon you could just do it but most need help the first time, thus the ritual. I’ve prepared everything. I’m sure you want to get this over with so you can go show Vrej.” Sobek flushed a little but Astra just kept talking. “So we’ll begin now. Remove your clothes.”

“W-what?” he stammered. The idea of being so vulnerable around these strangers was not a pleasant one.

“You’re going to grow and change and it could destroy then. You need to remove them or risk losing them and you’ll never be as large as Aten or me so unless you want to learn to walk in a sack you have to get rid of them,” Astra said.

Sobek frowned but looked down and started undoing the ties that held his clothes to his frame. They tied up the sides and attached to an apron that wrapped around where his flesh met scales. There was also a fair amount of straps and several jarred talismans that were tucked under his clothes. His first set of teeth. The eye of his first kill from a tribal merging. A lock of Vrej’s hair woven into a circular braid. Last was his hair tie, an ornate ribbon Vrej had made for him. She made all the serthis who were part of her colony a hair tie to welcome them to her colony so they were knew they were welcome, wanted, and safe under her eye. He hated leaving it with his tunic and bracelets and the rest of his clothes but he did so he was just there, naked, in front of the two humi shaped dragons.

Astra uncrossed her legs and got to her feet elegantly. “This part of you will mostly stay the same,” she said indicating the upper fleshy part of him. “But the rest will change, dramatically. Come over here,” she motioned to the altar. He followed her and as she went to stand in front of it she pulled her hair back and away from her face and with a complex hand motion it braided itself. Sobek’s eyes widened. He’d never seen magic used like that. Most magic was practical, or in Vrej’s case to heal. He’d never seen such a casual display of magic to just braid hair. “Be here,” she pointed to right in front of her and he slithered over.

The ritual was strange. She smeared ochre on his face and throat and used a paste to paint sigils across his chest. Then she made him sit in the middle of a circle of the same paste and ochre. He blinked in surprise as a great wind kicked up to the motion of her arms and he was blasted with magic. Invisible signs that had been painted into the floor flared into life and blazed with such a blinding light Sobek had to look away and close his eyes. Then the light dimmed.

“Alright, all done,” she said.

Sobek looked down at himself. “It didn’t work,” he accused her. “I’m ssstill ssserthisss.”

To the side Aten gave a cough of a laugh. “Do you even know what goes into a dragon’s transformation?” Astra asked him with a sly smile.

“No?”

“It isn’t instant. It takes times. Hours, days even. If Aten wants to look how he was born it takes him three days because he has to become so large. For you it will be less,” she approached him and wiped the ochre off his face with a damp rag and gave it to him to clear up his chest. While he did she went back to the altar and brought back a glass of slightly yellow, completely opaque, liquid. “Drink.”

“What isss it?” he asked.

“It will make you sleep until I give you something to make you wake.”

“That ssseemsss dangerousss.”

“Or you can go through the pain of the change without it. Makes no difference to me.”

She pulled the drink away but Sobek grabbed it. He didn’t want to be in pain. Vrej never mentioned that changing shape was painful. He took a sip and it tasted as bitter as he expected it to taste. Astra laughed when his face twisted in disgust. With a grimace he chugged the entire thing, able to open his throat and not taste it. “Now what?” he asked, holding the cup anxiously.

Astra just beckoned and led him over to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable. The potion will take effect shortly and you don’t want to be caught unaware.”

Cautiously Sobek crawled into the nest of a bed. He was very aware of Astra and Aten watching him and it made him nervous. He stared at the both of them wondering if they’d say anything to him but Astra just stood there, watching him. He started to feel a horrible pain in his pelvis when he blacked out.

—

Vrej was with the triplets weeding one of her herb gardens. They always asked why she just didn’t use her magic to do it and Vrej always gave the same answer. Sometimes work was worth doing hard and magic could cheapen the connection you felt to hard work. The garter serthis didn’t always agree but they didn’t question her too much. To those without magic it was an instant fix to a problem. Vrej knew it could be but sometimes just doing things with your hands was good too.

“Vrej,” she glanced up. One of the guards was on the other side of the wire fence. Guard was a loose term. Mostly they made sure the rest of the Hall didn’t bother her colony too much and kept the toridaes away. Or that had been Sobek’ job. She hadn’t seen him in days and it worried her. She knew she’d broken his heart but she thought he was stronger than to mope around for days or just leave without saying anything. Vrej knew serthis were too proud to always take responsibilities for things they might have made a mistake about so it wasn’t out of character she guessed.

“Yes, Hari?” she asked, wiping her brow and getting a bit of dirt across her sweaty face.

“You need to sseeees thisss,” he said.

“What? Something bad?” she asked even as she pushed off her knees.

“I don’t know,” he said nervously.

“Hmm.” She grabbed the bag from a post where she hung her pearl when out in the garden and followed Hari out of the garden to the front of her home. Several serthis were gathered around looking at something and looking at it curiously. “What’s going on here, hmm?” she asked and the serthis all looked back at her, almost guiltily to having been caught out like this. They moved aside so she could walk forward and see what they were looking at.

There was a humi sitting on the steps of her porch. But a humi like she’d never seen. They had no wings, no horns, no frills or tail. Their feet were the same and slightly digitigrade but there was no distinguishing features about them. They looked almost like one her serthis only with legs. She stared at them in confusion with their shaded red hair and blood red eyes that stared back at her, almost like they were afraid. It took her an uncomfortable amount of time to realize what she was looking at. “Sobek?” she asked. He nodded but was too nervous to talk. “Well… hmm— come inside. The rest of you should probably go back to what you were doing,” she added and climbed the stairs of her porch. As she did she grabbed Sobek’ hand and helped him up. “Stop being so nosy and making him uncomfortable. Really,” she scolded them and the other serthis quickly dispersed.

Vrej led Sobek inside and closed the door. He walked just fine and she wasn’t used to seeing a humi without a swaying tail or mindful of their wings so they didn’t accidentally bang them on a threshold or something. He turned to her and said nothing, just licked his lips nervously and had his hands in the pockets of his pants. Thank the Plaguebringer he was wearing pants.

“Sobek, what’s this?” she asked him. She had a feeling she knew but she wanted him to tell her. Sobek seemed too nervous to say anything. She sighed a little. “Did you do this because of what I said?”

“Yes,” he said.

She looked away with a deeper sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “This wasn’t I expected you to do,” she admitted. “How? You can do minor magic but transformations?”

“Someone helped me.” She realized that he didn’t have a hissing accent now. He didn’t hold his Ss and Ts longer or work his mouth around round sounds. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Who?” she pressed.

“One of the witches in the Warren-

“You went to a Stitcher?” Vrej demanded, eyes flaring. Sobek shrunk away from her some. “Sobek that was dangerous and stupid and totally irresponsible! The colony relies on you, I rely on you. What if they’d hurt you? What if they’d killed you?” her anger was bred from worry.

“I had to try,” he said softly. “For you.”

“You didn’t do this for me. You did it for yourself,” Vrej snapped.

“Vrej-

“I know you were upset but to do this?” she motioned to his humi body but it still looked wrong and strange to her eyes. No tail, no wings, no defining features other than normal serthis pointed ears and his long red hair. And he’d gone to the Warren and knew he’d made some sort of deal with one of the Stitchers. She was so disappointed in him. “I didn’t want this for you.”

“You’re right. I did it for myself. So you don’t look at me and see me as lesser.”

“Sobek, I’ve never seen you as lesser,” she said softly.

“But you wouldn’t give me a chance because I was serthis. Well now I’m not,” he looked down at himself, taking his hands out of pockets and used them to indicate his new form. “I’m not anything. I am just Sobek.” He stepped over to her and grabbed one of her hands. “I’m just me and I love you and I did this because I thought you’d like me better this way,” he said, eyes wide. He brushed some of her hair back and behind her ear.

She stepped back taking her hand from his. “You have these ideas of what I want, Sobek,” she said. “And your heart is in the right place I guess but I didn’t tell you to do this. I didn’t ask you to do this. I still don’t love you. I like you just fine, you’re a good protector of the Fangs but this… you went to the Stitchers. They’re about as close to evil as I can imagine, especially that Savathün and Oryx. I warn everyone not to go there for a reason, because it’s dangerous and I worry about you all. But this… this is a betrayal. And now you’re like this,” she looked him up and down. “I have no room in my heart for someone who’d do something so reckless and put themselves in so much danger to go to the Warren. Before, maybe, but now?” she frowned and he looked just as heart broken as the last time they’d spoken. “I don’t know if I can trust you now. The Stitchers deal in trades and favors. I don’t know what they wanted from you but it probably isn’t good,” he looked down at his feet meaning she was right.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just… Please don’t hate me.’

“I don’t hate you, Sobek but I don’t trust you.”

“Can I fix it?” he asked, his eyes pleading and if she knew him less she thought he might start crying. But Sobek was too hard and stoic to cry in front of anyone, if he even cried at all.

“You can try,” she said.

He sighed. “Alright,” he said softly. “Alright,” he said to himself again bobbing his head in a sort of nod. “Well I’m just… gonna go then,” his voice was thick.

“Alright,” she said gently. “The Fangs is still your home. You don’t have to leave it.”

“I know,” he said, looking at the wooden floor. “I’ll see you later,” and he left.

When he was gone Vrej fell into her chair and covered her face with both hands. She knew Sobek wouldn’t cry because he’d done something reckless that had changed his life and their relationship in a not so great way so she did it for him.