#tdpfanfic

[photoniccyclone]

Man I’m writing this one scene for SFR right now and I’m getting pretty damn choked up while doing it... it’s weird because I usually have to fight to be able to write something that gets that reaction from me because my soul is literally colder than Antarctica when it comes to media for some reason. It’s also not a scene where I really expected it to happen but... damn...

Hope you’re ready for when I can finally actually get this done *eventually* because it’s got multiple heavy hitters. Feels like bomb after bomb after bomb here.

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 1 The Storm Spire

Chapter summary: With the Cinder-Heart army defeated, a search party has been launched to find the greedy Dark Mage in Xadia

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Heather stood by the opening to the Queen’s chamber, high in the peak of the Storm Spire. Her crimson eyes looked out at the sea of pinkish clouds below the suspended bridge of the Spire. She was back as a Dragonguard, with all her honour, guarding the Queen for the first time in months.

She wore her neat Dragonguard uniform with her red bowblade in hand, looking as fierce as the other two Dragonguards beside her; two of the other Dragonguards who had not been at the Spire when the Dark Mage had killed Avizandum and taken Prince Azymondias’ egg. Haco and Petra were the only two other Dragonguard’s who had survived the battle with the Cinder-Heart arm unscathed—two others were being treated for injuries.

Heather drew in a long breath, delighted to be back serving her Queen, the Queen of Dragons; Queen Zubeia. And Prince Azymondias, of course.

She lifted her hand to the moonstone that hung around her neck, containing the illusion that was still a Sunfire-elf-dragon-shifter, with false wings; sun-kissed skin; brunette hair; and red eyeshadow markings with a swirl beneath her lower eyelids. But underneath the glamour, nothing had changed since the incident a month ago.

“Do you need a break? To let your ‘true self’ breathe?” Asked the Sunfire elf Dragonguard beside her—Haco.

Heather shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine... just thinking.” She tucked the stone under her sash and stood still again.

But a few minutes later, she turned her head around, looking down the short corridor to Zubeia’s chamber.

“You’ll have to tell her soon,” Petra said. The Earthblood elf had almost become a maternal figure since Tiadrin had disappeared and since Scorchmark—Heather’s father—had disowned her out of fear; or so Heather believed.

“I know,” Heather mumbled. “And I plan to... She just seems so busy with everything that’s happ—ENED!” Petra and Haco shoved her into the tunnel.

“Just tell her. She’s not him, Heather,” Haco said. Heather knew exactly who he was referring to—her father.

“Give her our wishes!” Petra said, too loud for Heather’s sensitive ears to cope with, along with it being loud enough to guarantee it would reach Zubeia’s hearing. Heather sighed, exasperated, and faced the chamber ahead of her.

Can’t disappoint Her Majesty, she thought to herself. She started down the tunnel, the clinking of her bowblade touching the ground echoing against the stone walls as she walked.

The walk to The Queen’s chamber dragged on and on, much longer than Heather had ever remembered; the warm light that beamed into the chamber slowly grew closer with each step.

A soft rumble came from the chamber; Zubeia chuckling. Heather smiled absentmindedly as she heard it. For so long, Zubeia had filled the chamber with soft snores. Hearing her chuckle was a pleasant break from her slumbering breathing.

Finally, Heather stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at Queen Zubeia and Prince Azymondias, as the dragonling chirped at his dam from his spot on her head. He was a tiny pale blue speck against her dark blue scales.

Azymondias looked up from his dam to look at whoever had entered the room. He cooed and glided down to meet Heather at the top of the stairs. Heather bowed to him and Queen Zubeia, as was customary.

“What brings you to my chamber, young Dragonguard?” Queen Zubeia asked and Heather began down the steps, Azymondias on her shoulder.

“Your Majesty,” Heather began, inclining her head as she addressed the Queen. “I wish to speak to you about a... personal matter.”

Zubeia lowered herself to lie on the ground and inclined her head to study Heather. “I have a feeling it is about the talisman you wear around your neck.”

Heather froze. “You never cease to amaze me, Your Majesty,” she said, staring up at the archdragon. Zubeia’s lips lifted into a smile. “You are correct, Your Majesty, I wear an illusion to hide the remnants of an accident that occurred some time ago. And for me to no longer have to hide my physical appearance, I need to get in touch with the Archmage, Aaravos.”

*-*-*-*

Zubeia had been very understanding about Heather’s predicament, and with word that the Dark Mage who created the Cinder-Heart army hiding close to the Storm Spire, the hunt for the Dark Mage had begun.

The moon and stars were high above the search party and they scoured the base of the Spire, looking into each crack in the rock they came across. The party comprised Petra, Haco, Heather, Ibis, a dozen Sunfire elf soldiers and five master mages; the best magicians in Xadia, Ibis being one of them.

Heather drew in a long breath as she knelt on the ground; she could smell him. The filthy, disgusting smell of dark magic filled her nostrils, and it was getting stronger.

“Well?” Hissed a mage. Heather wasn’t sure which one as she never bothered learning their names when Ibis introduced them earlier; that and the dark magic was distorting her senses.

“He might be near... I’m not sure...” Heather whispered, rising to her feet and walking in the direction of the foul scent.

The mage tutted and hesitantly followed with the rest of his party.

He’s probably scared about the dark Mage absorbing his power. Heather tried to convince herself. Mages are richer in magic than soldiers.

We’re all scared of being absorbed and used in some disgusting way. Another part of Heather argued. She swept aside her thoughts and focused on the trail, gripping her blades’ handles.

Just ahead of the search party, Heather could see a faint lilac glowing come from a narrow cave mouth up ahead.

“There,” she pointed to where she could see the light. The elves behind her all looked to the craggy opening, furrowing their brows.

“So?”

Of course they can’t see the light, they’re elves. They can’t see light that’s that faint.

“There’s light coming from that cave. It’s faint, but I can see it. It might be worth checking out,” Heather offered quietly.

After a short, quiet discussion, Heather broke off from the group, completely invisible with the help of the Moonshadow mage who had come with the group. She easily slid into the opening in the rock and adjusted her sight to the lilac lighting in the cave. Inside she saw the Dark Mage, standing in his white dirt-dusted gown, and his apprentice, with half of her hair now completely white. They were both staring at the opposite wall where the lilac was being emitted.

She resurrected him! Heather realised with a scowl. She followed their gaze.

The source of the light was a large cocoon dangling from the ceiling of the cave. It pulsed as white noise came from it.

The caterpillar has to be in there. He has to be in there.

Heather backed slowly out of the cave to the search party, still invisible from all but dragon eyes.

“The Mage and his apprentice are in there, as is the caterpillar,” she whispered to the group. Her voice had spooked a few of them.

“Remember that our objective is the caterpillar, not the mages,” Petra said to the others. The other elves nodded.

On to phase two of the plan.

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 2 The Little Bug Pal

Chapter summary: Heather has been placed in charge of watching the four-foot-long caterpillar, and he wants an answer as to why he’s wanted.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Weapons clinked, and fighters grunted outside the cave. Heather was not one of them.

Instead, she was staring up at the light-emitting cocoon. Looking at it with a certain sense of awe.

Now that she was up close to it, she now noticed that it was larger than any human or elf she had ever met. She was short for her age, but she reckoned three of her could cul up in the cocoon with plenty of room to spare.

Since all the mages and soldiers were outside battling the Dark Mages, Heather didn’t need to stay hidden. She removed the invisibility spell and gripped her blades with a hard face. Whether or not she liked it, the bug inside this cocoon, the creator of dark magic, was her only hope of ever finding herself again. Since gaining the moon arcanum, Heather had lost what little family she had; she lost her honour and pride as a Dragonguard; and she lost her wings, her freedom.

And this bug was the only being who could help her get all those back.

No more hiding. No more fear. No more pain.

That had been her motto since she had left the Silvergrove.

Hiding, fear and pain; the three things she hated most in the world.

Heather raised her blade. She could hear the fighting dying down and the sound of hoofbeats leaving the Spire.

She swiftly brought down her blade, making an incision in the cocoon. Lilac luminescent goo dripped from the incision. Heather jolted back as the stench of the goo hit her. It reminded her of rotten eggs and meat; a truly awful combination. She gagged and grimaced.

The goo sluggishly dripped from the limp cocoon. Heather pushed aside her disgusted and made another incision, slicing the cocoon even deeper. This time most of the luminescent goo fell from the cocoon, splatters clinging to Heather’s clothes.

“Ugh!” Heather said, disgusted. She was about to shake the goo from her blade and bare arm when something dark and slender slid from the no-longer-bright cocoon. Heather looked to what had fallen from the cocoon.

On the slimy mountain of goo lay a four-foot-long midnight blue caterpillar, covered with scattered white specks and a twinkling diamond on each segment of its body.

The caterpillar looked up at her in an almost disgusted look, as if she insulted it by stopping it from becoming an unstoppable force.

Heather swallowed her disgust and looked down at the caterpillar. “Help me, and I can get you your freedom back the easy way. Please,” she whispered.

The caterpillar’s mouth chattered and launched itself at Heather.

She grabbed its head as it neared her, tempted to crush it as she held it in front of her body. “Listen, Sparkles, I don’t want to be your student any more than you want to pass on your knowledge—“ she took off her necklace with her free hand, revealing her blotched skin, silver eyes and semi-white hair, “—but I need your help and the Queen is considering setting you free while you teach me. That’s what all this is about, right? Lux Aurea; the Cinder-Heart Army; the Dragon Prince, all an attempt to be free from Stella Carcerem?” At this, it surprised the caterpillar that she knew the name of its master’s prison, if it relaxing its body was any hint of emotion. “I can get you out, so long as you teach me.”

The caterpillar did not respond, it just hung limply in her grasp.

Heather slipped on her necklace again. “Sleep on it, okay?” She offered. “Somnum,” Sleep, she whispered. The caterpillar passed out, its body dangling in Heather’s hand.

She shouldered the giant bug and walked out of the cave. “This better be worth the effort,” she looked down at her clothes, “and the stench.”

*-*-*-*

Heather sat on the chair in her dorm, the wood creaking as she moved forward to hold her head in her hands. Beside her, on her writing desk, sat lit candles, a steaming cup of tea and several memoirs of Aaravos’—the few books that existed about him which she could read without the pages being destroyed.

She looked at the thin leather-backed books. She had found hundreds on them in the Archmage’s library, all of them accounting for almost every day in his life—apart from the last three hundred years. She placed her necklace on the desk and picked up the one she was currently reading, glancing at the cover.

Gold embroidery of the sun arcanum symbol partially overlapping with the silver embroidery of the moon arcanum symbol looked up at her, with No. 46 embroidered beneath the symbols. Each bit of the string shone in the pale moonlight that came from behind her.

Heather flicked through the parchment, her eyes passing over each account, catching the words Dear diary at the start of each entry.

Eventually, she landed on the entry she had started earlier that day. She smiled slightly to herself and read through the passage.

As she read, she reached for her tea, taking a sip as she scanned through the words. As she continued to read, she played with her loose strands of brunette and white hair, before reaching for her golden horn cuffs and pulling out the small, almost shimmering, bright orange phoenix feather from it. She twirled the shaft of the feather in between her fingers.

Heather sighed softly. “Hey, Phil,” she greeted softly, lowering her book. She felt pretty stupid to be talking to his ghost feather, but she didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and maybe he was hearing all she said—but she doubted it very much.

She opened her mouth to continue her account of the day when she heard a clicking come from her bed. She lowered her book and Phil’s feather and looked to her bed where the blue caterpillar lay—she had almost forgotten it was in the room. The clicking came from its mouth, as its beak opened and closed, as it stirred from its sleep and as its master was taking control.

Heather jumped to her feet and eyed the bug. She grabbed a dagger from her belt and held it with a reverse grip.

Slowly, the bug lifted its head from the bedcovers to look at her.

“Where am I?” A deep, masculine voice came from its mouth.

“Still in your prison, I presume,” Heather replied satirically.

The caterpillar seemed to scowl at her. “Very funny.”

“You’re in my dorm in Spireville’s barracks. You’ve been placed under my protection and watch while you’re like this.” She gestured to the caterpillar’s body.

It retracted its body close to it, curling up on the bed. “You don’t seem very afraid of me... or as threatening as you had been earlier,” Aaravos mused.

Heather glanced down at the dagger in her hand, unsure of how she wasn’t ‘as threatening’ as she had been earlier, considering how close they were to each other.

“I’m presuming you’re Aaravos? The Archmage? Or what do I call you?”

A chuckle escaped the caterpillar’s mouth. “Yes, I am Aaravos—though I doubt I am considered the Archmage anymore.” The caterpillar rolled up most of its body as it sat near the top of the bed. “If I remember correctly, I was referred to as ‘Little Bug Pal’.”

Heather loosened her stance. “Little Big Pal?” She questioned, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Yes,” he replied seriously. “Humans have a strange way of naming things.” He remarked. Heather nodded her head in agreement.

The caterpillar looked around the room, then to Heather, scanning her from head to toe.

“What happened to you?”