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[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Welcome To The Jungle (Eliza 3)

After what felt like an eternity of flying, Eliza could finally see the pair of islands in the distance. Flying beside her, Puk made an excited sound, something like the yowl of a cat. There were no words in the statement, but Eliza understood the intention anyway. Puk was just as excited as she was to finally be reaching their destination.

Skogweald and Pluvaria. Two islands right next to each. Skogweald was a forested island, of the more temperate variety. It had conifers and deciduous trees, as well as mountains and the dragons adapted to live in that sort of climate. From her understanding, there were also a great deal of Elves. She growled a little; Mother had never been fond of Elves.

Pluvaria, on the other hand, was the tropical sort of island. It had rain forests and rivers, and even a vast mudflat. It was also the larger of the two, and more appealing to be her first stopping point. She would stay on Pluvaria for as long as she needed before heading to Skogweald, and from there she would go to Wyrmbergia.

It had seemed logical to her, the path she had charted. Wyrmbergia was the island with the most dragons, if any island in this world could be said to be lacking in dragons. But the twin islands were on her way, so she would pass by them, study what she could, then move on to Wyrmbergia. Past that, she would probably work her way in a circle, ending with the Sea.

(She knew she would need to visit the Weyr and Aeropolis eventually, but she had little desire to. She would save them for last, even beyond the sea.)

Puk yowled again, this time a more alarmed sound, and Eliza stalled, coming to a stop and hovering in the air, trying to see what had alarmed the Mew. She spotted it rather quickly, a quartet of dragons flying towards the island. There was a brown dragon, a black dragon, a green dragon, and a dragon that seemed pink one moment, then a rippling blue the next.

She knew these dragons, she realized. Not the individuals, of course, she had never met them before in her life. But she knew their kind, knew what they were. They were Pyrrhian, a MudWing, NightWing, SeaWing, and RainWing. She knew the tribes well enough to recognize them from a distance.

What she didn't know, however, was what they were all doing together. The MudWing, RainWing, and NightWing made sense at least; she knew they all lived in Pluvaria, but the SeaWing was a complete mystery. What was it doing so far from its watery home.

Puk gave a chattering sound, his teeth clicking as he gazed at the other dragons, before he let out a concerned mew, and looked over to her, as though he was trying to ask her what they were going to do.

Eliza considered her options, considered whether these dragons would be a threat or not, before she decided to fly towards them.

Puk, loyal since the moment he had hatched, followed her as she made her way towards the strange dragons, though he chirped nervously the entire time. Feral though he was, he was clever enough to know that larger dragons, and they were larger than even Eliza, could be dangerous.

Eliza herself would have been nervous, she was small enough for any of the dragons to devour in three to four bites, had she not been so familiar with their kind. RainWings she knew were largely herbivores, the rest had more preference towards meat, but they weren't cannibals, and would have little reason to eat another sapient dragon. And if they did attack, she was small enough to maneuver around them and escape.

{{Hello!}} She called in rough Pyrrhian. She coughed a bit, her throat not used to it. The four dragons stopped, turned towards the noise, and saw her. They looked between one another for a moment, as if unsure what to do, or what to make of her. There was a chance they didn't know what kind she was, Eliza realized. Or, if they did, may not be on the best of terms with them.

{{We have no business with Talon!}} The SeaWing called back, looking a little nervous at the prospect. Eliza froze, then remembered what she was.

{{I'm unaffiliated with that organization,}} she assured them, finally getting close enough so that she no longer needed to shout. {{I may be their breed, but I am not working for them.}} She knew of Talon's doings on their own world, and didn't approve. And if she had to guess, they were probably doing more of the same here.

Which meant that, despite her better judgement, she would probably have to visit Aeropolis sooner rather than later, as she had planned. If Talon was doing what they usually did, she may find more dragons there than she'd originally guess. Hidden dragons. Disguised dragons. Dragons who walked among men, and played them to their own ends. It would seem appealing, if Talon cared about any dragon not their own. She made a note to ask this quartet later, but first she needed to finish introductions.

{{If you're not with Talon, why are you here?}} The RainWing asked, casting a look over towards his NightWing companion. This close, Eliza could see the twin silver of tear drop scales behind her eyes, marking the NightWing apart as at least a mind reader.

{{I'm here to study the world, its dragons, and how it works,}} Eliza said, seeing no reason to hide her mission. {{I arrived in the library, where I received Puk here,}} she motioned towards her Mew, who was flying around her anxiously, {{and then set off to Pluvaria and Skogweald. I figured they were on my way to Wyrmbergia, and would make for a good stop. Oh, but forgive me. I am Eliza.}}

{{I'm Fig,}} the RainWing said, before motioning towards his companions.

{{I'm Peacekeeper,}} the NightWing said. {{This is Fen,}} she pointed at the MudWing, who hadn't said a word yet, instead opting to watch from a distance. She was the largest of the group, and Eliza figured she was probably a BigWings.

{{And I am Mako,}} the SeaWing finished off, before flashing his lights to say the same thing in Aquatic.

{{Would you like to join us?}} Fen asked, finally speaking. {{You and your Beast can join us.}}

{{Beast?}} Eliza muttered, before realizing they must be talking about Puk. {{Ah, I see. I am used to calling them Ferals. But yes, thank you. We would love to join you.}}

------

The newly formed sextet continued on their way to the heart of the rainforest, where the RainWing and NightWing tribes lived together.

{{Do all Nightwings live with the RainWings?}} Eliza asked Peacekeeper.

{{Not all of us,}} the NightWing confessed. {{We are the largest tribe, but there is one located on Wyrmbergia, who did not wish to live among the RainWings. But worse than them are the NightWings who live in Muspell, who have wicked goals and who have thrown in their lot with the forces of Nightmare.}}

{{I have heard of that faction, but haven't yet met any,}} Eliza said. Puk, who had grown tired of the long flight, had taken his place on her back, riding between her wings as she flew. {{Aren't they the enemies of dragons?}}

{{They are,}} Mako said, coming over. {{But some dragons are willing to risk it, in the name of deals or power.}}

Eliza reflected on this for a moment, weighing Mako's words in her mind. It made sense, and from Mother's memories she knew that it was a pattern all too often repeated. Dragons would trade kinship for power, would sell out their own kind to make deals with all manner of creatures.

{{What sort of beings are aligned with Nightmare?}} Eliza asked, hoping to uncover a pattern.

{{Foul creatures, mostly,}} Fen said with a huff. {{Fellbeasts, and Wraiths, and Dementors.}} Foul creatures definitely seemed an appropriate way to describe most of those, except...

{{Why are Fellbeasts not considered dragons?}} Eliza asked. She knew why they weren't considered dragons in their own world, because there dragon had a very specific definition, referring only to one lineage of Morgoth's creations. But here, where many of the dragons shared little save the title, it struck her as an odd distinction to make. {{They are large creatures, reptilian in form, and flighted.}}

It seemed to catch the others unaware as well, because they paused, thinking it over.

{{They just aren't,}} Fen said at last, though she seemed unhappy with her own answer. {{No one ever calls them dragons, not even the dragons from their own world. But you do have a point, I suppose they are similar. Maybe they are Dragonkin, and we do not know it yet.}} A possibility, since the origins of both Dragons and Fellbeasts was a mystery. Some believed Fellbeasts were twisted Eagles, the way Orcs were twisted Elves, while others believed they were bred from the least members of the Cold Drake line.

{{I'll add it to my list of things to study,}} Eliza said. {{Though if they are aligned with Nightmare, I shall have to be careful with them.}} She glanced over at Fen, frowning as best as a dragon could, before speaking again. {{Fen, forgive me if this is too forward, or difficult to ask, but where are your sibs?}} Fen looked startled before laughing.

{{You're the first person to ever ask me that,}} she said. {{Most of the other tribes never bother to learn anything about MudWings, so no one knows that me being on my own is odd. My sibs are back with the tribe, probably sleeping or eating. It was decided to not send sibs groups on mixed Tribe diplomatic missions, otherwise the other tribes may think it's an invasion. Since I'm the Bigwings, I'm the one who goes. When it's just the MudWings going, though, my sibs come with me.}}

{{That's good to hear,}} Eliza said. {{I was worried you may have lost them.}}

{{What about you, Eliza?}} Fig asked, stalling a bit to fly alongside her. {{You said you were sent here to study this world, but who sent you?}}

{{A Goddess named Landilizandra,}} Eliza said. {{She is not of this world, but she is curious about it. But this world's magic is limiting, so she sent me instead. I am a small piece of her, you see, one she can shape as she sees fit. She made me a Talon Dragon so that I could travel between both Dragons and Men freely, depending on what my studies required of me.}} Fig seemed a bit put off by her answer, or perhaps he was just confused, and he looked towards Peacekeeper for assistance.

{{She is telling the truth,}} Peacekeeper said, which seemed to appease the RainWing.

They continued to fly until they reached the RainWing and NightWing villages, though calling them as such implied they were separate. Eliza's understanding of the matter was that the two were just a tightly linked in this rain forest as they were on their native Pyrrhia, with this settlement of NightWings living under the RainWing queen. Which, the more she thought about it...

{{Glory isn't the queen here, is she?}} Eliza asked.

{{She isn't,}} Fig confirmed. {{None of the queens from Pyrrhia came here. We had to hold new challenges for Queen, and in the end, it was Queen Hoatzin who won. We're bringing you to her now. She'll want to hear about your mission.}}

The group flew through the village, past dragonets playing in the stream and RainWings laying out in the sun, until they reached a rather large building, built into the largest tree in the area.

{{Wait here,}} Fig said. {{We need to conclude our business first, then Queen Hoatzin will speak with you.}}

{{Alright,}} Eliza said, sitting back and waiting as the group went in to speak with the queen. As she waited, she pulled out her notebook, taking notes on what she had learned. She considered resuming her notes on Puk, how long the Mew could fly for before he began to tire, and how well he took to soaring for long periods of time (he wasn't, truthfully, and often ended up resting on her back just as much as he would try gliding on air currents), but instead she decided to note down what she saw around her.

The majority population was Rainwing, by a fair margin, but the Nightwings weren't under represented. And part of her wondered if the discrepancy in population couldn't be caused by the NightWings sleeping, since the Tribe was naturally nocturnal.

More more interesting than the population dynamics were the dragonets, and the fact that many of them appeared to be hybrids. Their features were varied; some had the bodies of NightWings, yet the colors of RainWings, while others had the builds and tails of RainWings yet the star pattern of NightWings. They were all different, and no pattern could be seen, but what could be seen, rather clearly, was that hybrid  dragonets did exist in this village, and in rather large numbers. More than just living together, the tribes were crossing frequently.

Eliza made a note of this before pausing to think, wondering if it would be rude of her to ask the dragonets what abilities they have inherited, and from which parent. Was it always one of the other, or could it be a mixture of the two? Could venom and fire mix, or did one cancel the other out? She made a note of these questions as well.

The others returning from their meeting with Queen Hoatzin brought her out of this line of thought, and she put her journal away before turning towards the others.

{{Queen Hoatzin will speak with you now,}} Fig said.

{{Alright,}} Eliza said, getting to her feet and lowering her wing down so that Puk could climb onto her back. If she was being honest, she was a bit nervous about meeting the queen. Objectively there was no reason to be, nothing she was doing would interfere with how this Tribe operated, and honestly she had no intention of staying in this area for longer than she had to.

But that didn't mean anything. Eliza knew nothing about the Queen, didn't know how the politics of this Tribe and the world around it worked. The travelers believed her when she said she wasn't a part of Talon; there was no reason to suspect that the Queen would. She could be more cautious, less trusting. Even with Peacekeeper's ability and words, she may think it better to play it safe rather than take the risk.

And even if she did believe Eliza, when she said she had no connections with Talon? That may not be the only issue. Queen Hoatzin may be loyal to the native gods alone, and not want the emissary of an outsider to come into play, to potentially upset the delicate balance. She may believe that Eliza was here to conquer, not to study.

In truth, any number of things could go wrong, which was exactly why Eliza was so anxious to meet the queen.

Queen Hoatzin was laying on a large bed of leaves, gathered from various trees throughout the jungle. She was a very large, very old dragon, with her scales currently a mixture or blue and pink, with some flecks of green here and there. On her back, between her wings, was a rather small baby sloth.

{{Fig tells me you're not with Talon,}} the queen said, looking Eliza over. {{Your tongue would suggest differently.}} Eliza flicked her tongue out, the arrowheaded tip giving away what she was.

{{I am of their kind,}} Eliza confessed, {{but I have no affiliation with their organization. My mother, the goddess who created me, gave me this form so that I could go between the worlds of dragons and humans with relative ease, instead of being restricted to only one.}} That, and Landilizandra wanted her to study what impact the human presence had on this world of dragons. Why a human presence was needed.

{{Who is your mother?}} Queen Hoatzin asked. {{Not Seiryu, surely?}}

{{No,}} Eliza confirmed. {{My mother is a goddess named Landilizandra, a dragon far from here. She made me as a small piece of herself, one she could send to worlds she either couldn't go to, or didn't have the time to go to. This world is restrictive, and she did not want to interfere with the deities who control it, so she altered and sent me instead. She wants me to learn everything I can about this place, then report what I have learned back to her. I am here for study, not to invade or to conquer. I came to your jungle first because it was close to the Library, and I thought it would be best to go in some sort of order.}} The queen regarded her for a moment, her talons tapping against the floor.

{{Peacekeeper has assured me you're telling the truth,}} she said at last. {{I may not understand why you want to study this place, but I won't stop you. You may use our home as a base, so that you have a place to sleep and to put your notes, and any records we have are open to you.}}

Eliza relaxed almost immediately. {{Thank you, my queen,}} she said. {{You won’t regret this.}}

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

William, Philip’s Firelizard

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Setting Off (Philip 2)

Thanks to Gina, Yfel was managing to eat every day, despite Philip's general apathy towards whether or not she ate. As a result, she was growing. Rather rapidly, even. When she hatched she had been about the size of a dog, but now, only a week later, she was as large as a horse. She ate often, and slept even more, which Philip equated to her rapid growth.

At least, Philip mused to himself, as he watched Yfel make her way down the halls, the library had been built with at least some dragons in mind. Still, he doubted they would be able to stay for much longer.

Not that he wanted to. While he wouldn't admit it, the library was beginning to make him feel tense, feel trapped. More than once he had seen others, all with an egg or a dragon, some of them dragons themselves. It made him uneasy, seeing so many fools seduced by the demon spawn.

The tipping point had been one day, when he stepped out into the common area, and had found a small dragon, about the size of a great cat, reading over a book with an egg he couldn't identify beside her. The dragon was white, with wide wings, black horns, and a row of spines running down her back, each one as black as her horns. He froze, heart leaping up into his chest, the form all too familiar. He had only regained some semblance of calm when the dragon lifted her head, revealing a pair brown eyes instead of red. She looked at him for a moment, blinked, before changing into a young woman and taking her egg and her book elsewhere.

He told himself it couldn't be the demoness, couldn't be Landilizandra. The dragon had her colors, but white and black were not uncommon. It had nothing else that would have set her apart. No tendrils hanging from her jaw, no ruff around her head. The horns weren't branching, and the eyes weren't the rich crimson of twin rubies. No, it had just been a white dragon, nothing more.

Yfel had noticed something was wrong, had asked what was wrong, but he brushed her aside, changed the subject. Told her he wanted to leave as soon as they could. Yfel, who had been hungry for adventure since she had hatched, seemed just eager to leave as he was.

The day they were to set out, Philip set Yfel to work gathering any supplies he thought they may need. He sent her looking for food, for a map, and for anything else she thought they may need, while he himself went in search for much the same. He had no way of knowing where they would go, or what they would find once they reached a place to settle. From his glances out the windows, and his trips outside or up to the top, he could see that they were indeed on a floating island, and that he'd have no hope of going anywhere without Yfel's help.

It was to the top of the library where his search for supplies took him. He had discovered that Gina had managed to collect quite the expansive garden, and he had noticed more than a few crops which may be worth plundering.

He tried to walk around the garden calmly' Gina never scorned anyone access to it, but he refused to take any from it until he was sure he was alone. He doubted she would appreciate the theft.

He took only what fruits he could recognize, and ignored anything he didn't, not trusting that they would be safe for a human to eat. When he came across a potato plant, he thanked the Kings before ripping it out of the ground. Potatoes were easy to grow, could take to rough soil, and made a hearty meal besides. He considered ripping up every potato plant he saw, but stopped after only two, for a total of fifteen potatoes.

"Philip," he jumped at the voice, drawing his sword and turning around, only to see Yfel standing behind him, her jaws and talons caked in gore, and her belly distended. Clearly, she had misunderstood what he meant when he told her to find food.

"Did you at least find a map?" He asked. She lowered her head in shame.

"No," she confessed. "But I know the directions, and the names of the islands. They're all different, so it should be easy to find our way. Just pick an island to fly towards, and go." She made it sound so simple, he wanted to smack her.

"For your sake you better be right," he said instead. "And for both our sakes, you better not be too heavy to fly. So, where should we go first, if you know the way?" Yfel was quiet for a moment, considering.

"You'd probably want to go to Aeropolis," she said at last. "That's where a lot of the humans live, and not as many dragons. It's Wyrmwards and Firewards." The thought of heading towards fire made Philip tense, but he forced himself to relax; told himself that was just a way of telling direction. They wouldn't be heading towards the volcanic island, just using it to chart a course.

"Towards the humans it is," Philip said, walking over and climbing up and onto her back, sitting just ahead of her wings. "You know which way it is, correct?"

"Of course I do," Yfel said. "There were markers on the launching pad." She walked over to the ledge and unfurled her wings before pausing. She had flown before, but never when she was so full, and never with someone on her back. A fear of heights was not normal for a flying dragon, but caution never hurt anyone either. A kick from Philip prompted her forward, and she kicked off, flapping her wings to bring them up and away from the tower.

For the first time in his life, Philip flew.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He had ridden horses, numerous ones, for the steed of a slayer rarely lasted long, but even at their fastest, riding on the back of a horse couldn't compare to riding on the back of a dragon.

It was smoother than Philip was expecting. Apart from the few times Yfel flapped her wings, her body barely moved, instead using the currents to soar while wasting little energy.

He liked it. Despite himself, Philip liked it. He liked the feel of the wind on his face, liked the view as he gazed out towards the horizon. It was a dangerous, treacherous feeling, but he couldn't help but enjoy it.

"There's an island under us," Yfel said, craning her head down to look. "Under the Library. I think that's the Weyr. There are dragons there, and people. Maybe we can land?" Philip was about to brush aside the suggestion, having little desire to land on an island with dragons as well as men, but his order died in his throat when he noticed that she was starting to beat her wings more, as though struggling to keep them both aloft with the wing alone?

"You ate too much," he snapped, turning back to look at the floating island. He didn't relish the idea of landing, because he could see more dragons than he could see men, and the dragons were close to what buildings he could see. But he relished the idea of crashing even less, so with a grunt he kicked her side roughly, gaining her attention before he pointed towards a lake, far from the buildings and the dragons.

"Land there," he ordered. "Stay as far away from the other dragons as you can. I don't care if they try and talk to you or not, stay away from them. They're no friends of ours." Yfel made a noise, but she didn't argue. Instead she angled her wings and dove, perhaps a little more quickly than Philip would have appreciated. She was moving faster than Philip was comfortable with, and it felt dangerously close to falling, but he didn't dare correct her. She was the one with wings, after all, and he trusted her instincts even if he didn't fully trust her. The demons would have wiped themselves out long ago, without any help from slayers, if they couldn't figure out how to properly land.

The landing was a bit bumpy, though whether that was due to Yfel's inexperience or just because all landings were rocky for a rider, Philip had no way of knowing. But what mattered was that she had managed to get them both to solid ground, or as solid as ground could be in this realm of floating islands, without killing them both, and for that Philip was grateful. Not that he would ever tell Yfel that.

Sliding off her back, Philip brushed himself off and started to look around, while Yfel did the same. At the moment there weren't any dragons near them, but Philip didn't trust that to last. The dragons had looked massive from the air, with even the smallest being larger than Yfel, and creatures that big must frequent watering holes regularly.

"Let's not dally," Philip said. "We're just stopping here so you can rest, maybe unload some of what you just ate." He had seen plenty of creatures empty their stomachs while fleeing from a hunter, and he motioned towards Yfel vaguely, suggesting she do the same. "The longer we're here, the more likely we are to be spotted."

"Why would that be a bad thing?" Yfel asked. "These dragons have people. Shouldn't that make this a good place for both of us?"

"You may know a lot about this world," Philip said. "But you don't know shit about life. Just because someone may seem like you, doesn't mean you can trust them. And I don't. I don't trust dragons, and I don't trust the people who ride 'em."

"But why not?!" Yfel snapped, hitting her tail against the dirt. She bared her fangs, and out of instinct Philip's hand went to his sword. Yfel was still small, only a bit larger than a horse, and a good swing to her neck should do the trick, if she attacked. "What's so wrong about dragons?!"

Before Philip could answer her, could snap back about how dragons were a blight on existence, they both heard a down by the sands, of something growling and crunching. Yfel turned from him and made her way towards it.

"Don't," Philip hissed, though part of him wanted to let her go to the sound, maybe he'd be lucky and she'd get herself killed.

Except, he reminded himself, you need her to travel. Muttering a curse, he followed her down to the sands, and saw what was causing the noise.

It was somewhat like a snake, if a snake had six legs, eyes like an insect, and a hooked snout. It was feasting on a nest of eggs, and if he leaned in for a closer look, Philip could see the contents of the eggs. Dragons.

Or at least, they looked like dragons, a bit like some of the ones they saw while they landed. The one in the serpent's jaws was brown, with a knobbed head and a forked tail, its green ichor leaking out of the serpent's mouth. The serpent swallowed its prey, turned towards them, and snarled, revealing four long, deadly looking fangs.

With a swift swing of his sword, Philip took off the serpent's head. It fell down onto the sands, dead, its neck oozing the same green blood as its prey.

Philip's nose crinkled at the sight, and he nudged the creatures with the end of his sword. He still had no idea what sort of creature it was, though if you asked him he would say it was some kind of dragonkin, but the sight of its sickly green blood made him suspect it was toxic.

"Here," he muttered, picking the body up by its bleeding stump of a neck and tossing it in Yfel's direction. Yfel, ever the glutton, snapped it up without a moment's hesitation. Now, if the creature was toxic, Philip would know. Either Yfel would get sick, and finally lighten her load, or the creature would be enough to kill her.

(He doubted this, however. In his experience, dragons had tough stomachs, and could eat that which would fell a vulture.)

Philip toed the head with his boot before kicking it to the side. He then turned, but a cracking sound caught his attention instead.

It was coming from the nest, and when Philip approached he could see that, while the strange creature had managed to break and devour most of the eggs, there was one which had been spared its siblings' fate. The shell cracked, bits and pieces flaking away slowly, until a larger fracture split the egg down the middle, and the tiny creature within fell out.

Philip's instinct had been to crush the egg before it could finish hatching, or to slash the newborn in two as soon as it was free. He may not know exactly what the eggs were, but he knew from the tiny body in the serpent's mouth that it was some sort of dragon. And whether it stayed small or grew large mattered little to him. A dragon was a dragon, and the lot of them were better off dead.

It was the color of its hide which made him pause, freezing in place instead of killing the newborn demon. The one in the serpent's mouth had been brown, a deep rich color the same shade as tanned leather.

The tiny creature before Philip, however, was blue. Darker than the sky, but not so dark that it looked black, the way Yfel was. It was a proper shade of blue; a familiar shade of blue.

As he reached down to pick the creature up, it was small enough to fit into his palm with room to spare, his mind drifted back to bright blue scales on tanned skin. Peppered here and there, never close to each other, never in patches. It made them easy to pluck out (even though he knew doing so hurt) but difficult to hide. William had to be ever vigilant, to keep others from noticing his scales.

William. The name brought an ache to Philip's heart. He still had no way of knowing if his brother had died or not. And if he had, Philip had no way of knowing where he was. Had he been sent to this hell along with him, perhaps cast to a different part? Maria had implied that most enter the Fold through the Library, but perhaps William would be different, being half demon himself. Maybe if they set off, they would be able to find him.

The noise of the hatchling pulled Philip out of his reminiscing. Focusing once more on the tiny dragon sitting in his palm, he noticed its eyes were a swirling red, and its mouth was agape. Hungry, Philip reasoned.

Carefully, without jostling the hatchling, Philip dropped his pack and fished out an apple. He bit a small chunk off and offered it to the tiny dragon. It smelled the fruit, paused for a moment, then devoured it greedily. This pattern continued until it finally rejected the hunk of apple, its belly to distended to take any more.

"What is it?" Yfel asked, sticking her head in close to the hatchling, to try and get a better look. Philip jolted and shoved her back.

"Watch it, you great oaf!" He snapped. "You'll frighten it."

"I just want to know what it is," Yfel said, still examining the creature, though not moving closer to it. "And why would you care? I thought you didn't like dragons. Even tiny, it's still a dragon. Or is it just the big ones you hate?"

Philip was caught off guard by the accusation, and truth be told he wasn't sure why he cared. She was right, it was still a dragon. But the small blue creature, soft and warm in his palm, seemed...welcoming? He ran a finger over its head and down its back, its hide soft and smooth, without a single scale present.

"I think it might have some uses," Philip lied. "We can use it as a scout." The sound Yfel made was one that suggested she wasn't fully convinced, but also wasn't willing to argue.

"What will you call it?" She asked. "I think it's a male. I remember hearing Maria tell someone about dragons like these, and the blue ones were male. But it's...it's smaller than I thought."

Philip knew what she meant. It looked like some of the dragons they had seen as they flew past, only much smaller. Perhaps it was a cousin, or perhaps those dragons just started out very small.

"William," he said. Part of him loathed the idea of giving any demon, even a small, soft one, his brother's name. And yet, he could think of no other name which fit.

(Another part reminded him that, while William had been his brother, he had also been demon born himself. Perhaps, in the end, his name was one meant for these creatures.)

Turning away from William, he faced Yfel. "Can you fly yet?" He asked her. "Or are you still too overloaded?" He had given up on trying to get her to empty her stomach, and had resigned himself to having to wait until she was no longer heavy. Yfel, for her credit, at least had the decency to look embarrassed for stranding them on this island.

"I could try," she said, but Philip just shook his head.

"I don't want you crashing us into the Sea," he said, even though he knew the odds of that were unlikely. Even if she was too heavy to properly fly them off the island, she'd at least be able to parachute them down into the water. It would be far from ideal, but it'd hardly be a crash. "We'll wait until you're ready to fly. It looks like the sun is setting soon anyway. We'll make camp here, and set off in the morning."

"After breakfast?" Yfel asked, sounding hopeful.

"No," Philip snapped. "Last time you ate before you flew, you nearly crashed us." Yfel made a wounded sound, but didn't argue. "We'll set up camp," he ignored that setting up camp implied setting up a camp fire, "and in the morning, with the first light, we'll head to...to...what was that island called again?"

"Aeropolis," Yfel said. "It's where the people live. Without many dragons."

"Which is exactly why we're going there," Philip said, sitting down before pulling another apple out of his pack and taking a bite out of it. He then pushed the pack back and lied down on it. William rested on his stomach, the tiny dragon fast asleep after his sizable meal of half an apple, while Yfel curled around him, her blue eyes looking up towards the sky. Now that the sun had properly set, or done whatever it does in this strange world, the night sky was alive with stars.

"What are they?" Yfel asked. "The stars, I mean?" Philip frowned, looking up at the night sky as well.

"No one knows," he said. "Some call them gods, others call them spirits. I've heard some say that every star is the body of some great celestial dragon, while other scholars claim they're nothing more than balls of fire, burning far off in the distance." That thought made him shudder, but thankfully he never put much stock into it. "Others claim every star is its own sun, with its own world."

"What do you believe?" Yfel asked. "Do you think they could be dragons?" Philip shook his head, a minute movement.

"I was raised to believe that, when men die, they join their ancestors. If they were especially good, while they were alive, they join the Kings. My father thought that every star was a King, watching over us from far away." He shook his head again. "I don't know if he was right, though. I feel like they're probably just giant firebugs or something like that. They're there own thing." Yfel went quiet again, as though she was considering his words, or considering her own.

"Why do you hate dragons?" She asked at last. Philip took a deep breath, watching as William rose with his chest, and held it. He counted to five before he released it, watching the tiny blue creature slowly fall, before he answered her question.

"Because you're wrong. Dragons, by their very nature, go against everything natural. Go against everything human. Your kind have a connection to magic that never should have existed. Powers which nothing should ever be able to wield. Even the most well intentioned of your kind are dangerous; fickle. Dragons and men cannot co-exist, not without one using or killing the other. I hate dragons because you're forces of destruction given life. You're raw, chaotic. Men build, shape the world, give it order. Dragons, at their best, can't. They're made to destroy, to unleash the wrath of nature upon itself."

He sighed, looking down at William, and thinking back to his sorcerous brother. "I hate dragons because you're evil, destructive creatures. You can't control it, it's in your nature, but you're too dangerous to be allowed to exist."

Yfel was silent, as though unsure how to respond to him. Maybe she was trying to think of a way to argue with him, or maybe she couldn't. "Why do you hate the riders, then?" She said at last.

Philip scoffed. "Because they've let themselves be pulled in by the creatures, while at the same time thinking they could tame them. Trust me, Dragon Riders aren't our friends. Not my friends, and not your friends. They're screwing over both sides in the name of peace."

Yfel went silent again, only this time no further questions came. Before long, he could hear the soft sound of her snoring, and soon joined her in sleep.

(He woke only once, in the dead of night, as his body was used to do whenever it slept and rose with the sun. In that brief period of wakefulness, he saw a silver dragon fly overhead. He wasn't sure what to make of her, for she was larger than any dragon he had seen in the world so far. But she carried a jewel in her claws, and shone like the moon in the sky.)

------------------

The first light of dawn pried its way into his eyes, and Philip woke up blinking against the light. One thing he always hated about sleeping out in the open, the sun would never let you rest more than your due.

William wasn't on his stomach when he shifted, and for a moment he felt a stab of panic. But instead the blue creature was flitting around, snapping small fish from the water and gobbling them down happily. Yfel was waking up too, and watching the smaller dragon with envy in her eyes.

"No," Philip said. "Remember, if you eat you'll be too heavy to fly.

"Why not have her bleed her prey, then, if you're so worried about the weight?"

Philip drew his sword and spun around, coming face to face with another man. He was dressed in leather mostly, with patches and symbols which meant little to Philip. Off in the distance, on a ridge, was a dragon. It looked like William, only much larger, and its hide was Bronze instead of Blue. "Who are you?" He asked, stepping back away from the man. Yfel scrambled to her feet as well, her wings half open.

"I'm H'gof," the man said. "Wingleader and rider of the Bronze Resirth."

"I'm Philip Peterson," Philip replied. "This is Yfel, and the blue is William." He lowered the sword, but only a little, keeping an eye on the dragon. "Now, what were you saying about bleeding prey?"

"If your dragon is eating too much," Yfel looked offended by the accusation, "then have her drink the blood instead. It's what we have our dragons do before a mating flight." He walked past Philip and over to Yfel, running his hand along the dragon's neck. "You're from the Library, aren't you?"

"What gave it away?" Philip asked, his eyes glancing back towards the Bronze, who just sat there, watching. It was a big creature, maybe five or more times Yfel's size, and he had no idea what it was capable of. Its head alone was about as large as he was, so it could certainly kill him with a single bite if it had the right mind to. But if it was anything like its smaller cousin, its skin would be soft, easy to cut.

"Your dragon," he said. "Her breed don't live in the Weyr, not usually. You must have gotten her from the Library."

"I did," Philip said, stepping between the man and Yfel. "And is there a point to this, or can we leave."

"Why leave?" H'gof asked. "The Weyr has plenty of supplies to take care of a dragon and her rider. And we could use some of the rarer breeds. A Chinese breed, we never see one of those."

"Maybe because they're smart enough to avoid you idiots," Philip said. "Taming and riding dragons, too blind to realize the beasts have corrupted you." The Bronze had shifted now, its eyes starting to swirl red. "And your beasts are too stupid to realize you've trapped them. I could almost appreciate the idea, enslaving dragons, if it wasn't a fool's errand."

"Resirth is not my slave," H'gof protested, his hand going to a knife on his hip. "I impressed him when he hatched, like all Pernese do."

"Really? All of them?" An entire race, bound to men. It would appealing, if the riders themselves hadn't been corrupted. "Seems you've proven my point for me." Before the other man could act, before he could draw his blade or his dragon could attack, Philip lunged, driving his sword deep into H'gof's gut. The man gasped, his shirt staining red as Philip pulled his blade free of the wound and jumped onto Yfel's back.

"Fly!" He barked, and she stood frozen for only a moment before flapping off, William following behind them before he managed to catch up and bury himself in Philip's armor. Philip looked back, expecting to see the Bronze chasing them, but instead the dragon gave a wounded sound, as though it has been struck, and threw itself into the air flying a bit before vanishing.

"What happened to that dragon?" Yfel asked, looking back as they flew away.

"I don't know," Philip said, completely honest. Pernese, H'gof had said. Philip had never heard of them in his life.        

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Reblog this post if you think Yfel deserves better, would protect and cherish Yfel, or want to punch Philip in the face.

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

OOC: Should I have Philip kill a Pernese Dragon Rider?

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

OOC: To everyone voting, do you know what each of the islands are?

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

OOC: Help me pick where Eliza should go first.

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Philip what kind of dragon did you die to?

“She’s wasn’t any kind of dragon, at least no singular one. She could change from one form to the next, be whatever she wanted without limits. One moment, you’d find yourself facing a wyvern, the next a great wyrm. Though when she killed me, she looked like a half bred Xuan Lung.”

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Maria how long have you been in the Tieton Fold? How did you get there?

OOC: Maria is unfortunately not my character (she and Gina are NPCs made by the group’s creator), so I don’t feel comfortable answering this IC for her. However, I can tell you what the lore says.

Marina and her two sisters entered the Tieton Fold from the Rim of Heaven. There they found a world torn apart by chaos and war. Since Ice Dragons had no god to call their own, the three sisters beseeched the Air Goddess. Two of the sisters became the two extra “moons.” Marina had a higher calling at the library.

As for how long she’s been there, that I don’t know exactly (especially since time is a weird thing in the Fold), but the answer would be “a lot.”

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Entry One (Eliza 2)

Entry Number One

Date, One A.A. (After Arrival)

I have been in the Fold for a day now, perhaps a bit less. Near as I can tell, I arrived some time the last night, and it is only the afternoon now. The cycle between day and night are strange. Instead of orbiting a sun, the Fold exists in its own place, with a fiery serpent acting as the sun, and a silvery serpent acting as the moon. Through Gina, I have pieced together that they are two of the gods of this world. The fiery serpent is Xiuhcoatl, the god of Fire, and the silvery serpent is Seiryu, the goddess of Air. They fly around the Fold, and in doing so cause a cycle similar to day and night.

I have also learned that there are two other gods, Jormundandr of Water, and Nidhoggr of Earth. I have not yet seen them, even from a distance. I'm not sure I want to meet the gods. I'm not sure how they would react to seeing me.

The egg I took has not yet hatched, and in the interim I have done more research on the dragons of its world. They are peculiarly susceptible to changes in incubation conditions, with one of the more extreme changes being the mixing of a dragon's egg and human blood. This process, when successful, results in a breed known as a Draconean.

I am curious what my own blood would do to the egg. I know that the shape shifting dragons of my current breed have magic in their blood, strong enough to change a man into something more draconic.

Mixing my blood with the egg would be risky, for often the Draconean process fails, but I want to see what may happen if I do.

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Philip (on the left) and his younger brother William (on the right). Made using http://www.dolldivine.com/hobbit-and-lotr-dress-up-game.php

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

Damnation (Philip 1)

Philip awoke with a start and a gasp, his lungs greedily sucking in air. His heart hammered in his chest, and he blinked his eye, trying to adjust the low light. The last thing he remembered was the clearing, the Black Rose meadow, and a lance in his hands. Then the demoness' jaws opened, an emerald light, and...

He remembered dying. It had been quick, her fires had burned hot, but he had felt himself burn none the less, felt his hands, arm, chest give way to ash. He swallowed hard, wondering how much of himself had still been left before his life left his body. How long had it taken his spirit to realize his heart and mind were little more than smoke and ash?

He shuddered, shaking his head to banish the thought from his mind, and began to grope around in the dark, looking for anything he could grab hold of to help himself to his feet. His hand connected with what felt like a book shelf, and he pulled himself up. He was certainly dead, he had to be, because all his limbs were there, and he certainly didn't feel as though he was made of ash. He patted himself down all the same, making sure everything was still there. He was still wearing his armor, little good it had done him, and his sword was at his hip, where it always was when he wasn't fighting. As he patted himself down he felt his wineskin, and without thinking he unscrewed the lid and drained it dry. Now satisfied that he was at least whole, and starting to feel a bit calmer, he started to walk, his hand keeping hold of the book shelf as he made his way along.

As he walked, his mind drifted back to the fight, to his brother. His stomach twisted as he wondered if William had succeeded or not, or if his brother had died as well. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not.

If his brother had died, surely he would have joined him here, wherever here was. It certainly wasn't a rebirth, nor was it the realm of his ancestors, the Hall of Heroes. Which if he hadn't been reborn, and he hadn't joined his kin, then it could mean only one thing. He had been damned to suffer.

Perhaps the demon had condemned him with her flame, had bound his spirit and sent it to damnation. He certainly wouldn't put it past the beast, wouldn't put it past any of her wretched kind. It was exactly the sort of trick a demon would use.

But if William had died in her flames as well, wouldn't he have ended up in the same place. Could his brother have succeeded where he failed, and managed to kill her? Part of him wanted to hope, though the rest of him doubted it. They had been tricked by a phantom, and William was most likely dead as well, his spirit going to who knows where.

Not knowing which of these options was true was the worst part of it all. His brother could be alive, or he could be dead, and either way it wouldn't matter a bit. Philip had no way of knowing.

There was a flicker of light up ahead, and Philip quickened his pace, moving towards the first thing he could actually see. As he grew closer, he started to feel a growing sense of dread, and by the time he reached the light his throat was tight, and his hands were trembling.

It was a candle. A simple candle sitting on a table, with nothing and no one around it.

Philip watched the flame dance, watched it lap at the air hungrily. He tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat, and he was desperately tempted to extinguish the flame. It was the want for light which stopped him, and he reached out carefully to grab hold of its base. He held it out in front of him, at an arm’s length, and kept moving forward, his eyes watching the flame cautiously.

"Hrrr!" He froze at the noise, his free hand going to his sword. When nothing revealed itself, he kept moving forward, wondering if the library, for only a library would have shelves as long as this, continued for an eternity. If it did, then perhaps there were worse places to be damned to.

He kept moving, and as he walked he heard the sound again. He froze, his free hand once more moving down towards his sword.

"Show yourself!" He barked, though in truth he was unsure is he wanted to see what sort of creatures waited for him in the dark. If this truly was a hell, whatever was out there could not be pleasant.

"Hrrr!" He heard again, and saw a movement in the dim light of the candle. A flash of green, before it moved out of his view once more. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, starting to draw it from its sheath, when his companion made itself known, appearing fully in the light of the candle.

It was a demon. A dragon. A small, four-winged dragon, with hide as green as a bed of grass in spring. He paused, let go of his sword, and eyed the creature cautiously. It was too small to harm him, at least on its own, but that didn't mean he trusted it.

"Well," he said, looking at it. "What's all this, then?"

"Hrrr." It was his only reply, and near as he could tell, the only thing the creature could say. It hovered in front of him for a moment before it turned and flew onward, waving its paws around in a clear motion that it wanted him to follow.

At first, he didn't. He stood exactly where he was, unwilling to trust it. It may be too small to harm him, but he knew what its ilk was capable of. Dragons were wretched, demonic creatures, the enemies of men and a blight on the world. Even a small one was no less wrong.

Still, he didn't know where else to go, and the prospect of wandering around the library for the rest of his days seemed less and less appealing, so he decided to follow the creature, figuring it was small enough to strike down, should it try and betray him.

The creature led him to a narrow staircase, where it waited, hovering while he caught up.

"Hrrr!" It said, motioning towards the stairs. He eyed them skeptically, before looking back at the dragon.

"Little blighter," he muttered. "Why should I trust you? Kings know what could be down those stairs, I say it's a trap."

"Hrrrr!" The dragon said, frantic, and Philip could have sworn it had used a different hum this time, if only by a little. "Hrr-rr-r!" Now that was definitely different, and he watched at the creature motioned towards the stairs and tried to pantomime...something. To be honest, he wasn't sure what. It looked to be making a circle with its paws, then it would flap them, and point back to the stairs. He looked back down, wondering. Maybe this demon had been tamed by the Kings, would lead him properly to the next life.

"If you're trying to trick me I'm coming back up here, cutting your wings off, and making myself a pair of gloves." It was a hollow threat, the dragon's wings were too small for a pair of gloves, even if he used all four of them. At best, he may get one, and what would be the point without a matching set?

He made his way down the stairs, one hand staying on the wall as he walked. The stairway spiraled, and for a moment it seemed as if it could go on forever. Perhaps, if this was hell, that was his torment. To walk for eternity up endless hallways and down endless staircases. When he was finally sure that it wouldn't end, and he was about to go back up and make himself his glove, he reached the bottom.

The staircase exited out into a rounded room, massive and full of faintly glowing pillars. There was a pool of water in the center, and all around the room were troughs turned into makeshift nests.

Nests which contained more dragon eggs than Philip had seen in his entire life, and of a wide variety at that. There were small ones, as small as the eggs of a bird, and ones as large as a child's ball. Then there were larger ones still, some nearly as tall as he was, with shells of stark and uniform color, no doubt indicating the coloration of the dragons within.

Philip's hand went to his sword, his eyes darting all around the room. If he was dead, and in some hellish realm, then surely this was where the draconic breeds came from. That seemed the most logical reason in his mind. No paradise or Hall of Heroes needed the eggs of dragons, except perhaps as smashed trophies. Slowly, cautiously, he started to walk deeper into the room, a half thought forming in his mind to smash the eggs, and hope their deaths in some way affected those dragons which dwelt among the living.

"Hello," a voice, light and feminine, said, and Philip jumped at the sound. He spun on his heels, turning to face his companion, and found himself staring into the eyes of a silver scaled dragon. Without thinking he drew his sword, holding it out in front of himself to hold the creature off.

"Stay back, demon," he spat. "I've killed plenty of your kind before." The dragon's eyes went wide with concern, and Philip felt a twinge of pride. But that feeling soon faded to panic as the dragon opened its jaws and released an azure flame from its maw.

It didn't matter to Philip what color the flame was, he had learned long ago that the color of Dragonfire often had little to do with the temperature and more to do with whatever beast was breathing it. It had been an emerald flame which had ended his life, yet it had burned hotter than anything he had ever known. He had little doubt that his body, what remained of it, was little more than a smear of ash and smoke.

His throat felt tight, he couldn't breathe, and he dropped the sword to the ground, the metal blade hitting the stone with a loud ring before falling silent. He backed away from the fire, moving as far back as he could before his back hit the wall. The demon stepped forward, and he shrank back, expecting another gout of flame. But instead, she stepped on his sword and shoved it behind her, throwing away his best weapon before her attention returned to him.

"It is alright," she said. "A Silver Dragon's fire cannot burn, only heal. Men often have trouble remembering that." Philip had a hard time believing that to be true. Fire was fire, and fire burned. But he did move a bit away from the wall, only a bit. The dragon, at least, did back up a bit.

"What is this place?" He demanded. "What are these?" He added, motioning towards all the eggs. "Surely you are not all their mother. I know some dragons can have erratic broods, but I would expect the eggs at least to look similar, even if the spawn within them do not."

"I am not their mother," the dragon confirmed. "I am merely their caretaker.  Gina and myself manage this library. I tend to the eggs; she tends to the rest. You have already met Gina."

"Gina?" Philip muttered, trying to figure out what the demon meant. He hadn't met anyone, not a soul apart from the monster before him, and that pitiful excuse for a dragon up abo-oh. That certainly solved that mystery.

"Odd name for a dragon," he said. "I don't suppose yours is any better." If the beast had a name at all.

"I am Maria," the silver dragon said. "And to answer your first question, you are in the Library."

"I gathered that I was in a library," Philip snapped, wishing he had his sword, so he could slay the demon and keep it from wasting anymore of his time. "Where is the Library?"

"The Tieton Fold," she said, as though that was the answer to all his questions. Which, he supposed it was. It wasn't her fault if the answer didn't make sense to him. He had never heard of the place in his life, certainly didn't recognize it from the teachings of his Faith. Perhaps it had a different name, perhaps dragons, being native, did not call a hell what it was. Perhaps what was damnation to man was paradise to demons.

"Never heard of it," Philip replied curtly, his eyes going to where his sword lay on the ground. The dragon followed his gaze, stepping back a bit until she was standing over the sword.

"I'll give it back to you if you promise not to attack the eggs," she said, causing Philip to laugh.

"I wasn't going to attack the eggs," he said. "I was going to attack you." The dragon didn't look amused, but she shoved the sword over to him anyway, the metal scraping against the floor. Philip bent down, cautiously, and picked up the sword. He considered the blade for a moment before sheathing the weapon. "So, Maria," he began, using the dragon's name. "I'm in a library, in someplace called the Tieton Fold, with who knows how many dragon eggs. What am I doing here?"

"You're here to begin your story," Maria said. "All stories start in the library, and all stories start with an egg." Philip glanced at the eggs before looking back at the dragon.

"Explain," he said.

"You're destined to take one of these eggs," Maria began. "After you take an egg, and it hatches, you and the dragon shall begin your story." Philip considered arguing, because he certainly didn't want one a demon, but he paused, considering his options. He doubted Maria would let him leave without one, and even if he could get away from her, there was still Gina. And potentially others, who he hadn't yet seen. Maria had mentioned only herself and Gina, but that could easily be a lie.

Besides, there was something appealing about taking an egg; about bending the hatchling to his will, and using it against its own monstrous kind.

"These eggs?" He asked instead of protesting. "Any of these eggs?"

"Not any," Maria said cryptically. "Only the one you will take." Philip grunted and turned away from the dragon, instead going to examine the eggs. He tried to remember which were recognizable, and tried to remember which eggs would hatch into fire breathers.

"I don't want one that will breathe fire," he said, turning to Maria. He wouldn't be able to handle a demon than breathed fire.

"Yours won't," Maria said. It seemed she knew what he would pick before he had even picked his egg. Yet she also didn't seem intent on helping him make his selection.

He went back to the eggs, considering each of them. Finally, he stopped in front of a large, black egg, round as a ball with a patternless shell. He had seen then in books, long ago.

"This is a Celestial," he said. "One of the Novaks, the one with the roar." He knew the breed well enough, knew its ability. Landilizandra was one of their descendants, shared her ancestors' gift.

"Maybe," Maria said, and he was starting to grow annoyed with her. She seemed hell bent on not giving him a straight answer. He opted to ignore her, placing a hand on the egg.

"This one," he said. "I'm taking this one." He paused then, looking back towards the stairs, and frowning. "What do I do now?" He asked, turning to face Maria. "Do I just stay here until it hatches? You said people take the eggs, but there's no way I'm carrying this," he motioned towards the egg, "up those," he motioned towards the stairs, which seemed to have widened slightly to accommodate the size of the egg. "I'm not a young man anymore. I can't carry this egg without throwing out my back."

"Then you will need to stay here until it hatches," Maria said. "Or find another way to get it up the stairs." Philip looked back at the egg, thinking. The egg was round like a ball, so he may be able to roll it up the stairs. And the shell felt hard enough to withstand such abuse.

But rolling an egg up a steep, twisting stairway wasn't an appealing prospect, however, and Philip found himself put off the idea every time he glanced towards the stairs. He had no doubt the egg would fit, but he'd probably end up crushed at the bottom if he tried.

"Looks like I'm staying here, then," he muttered, leaning back against the wall and looking down at the egg. "You better be worth it, and you better hatch soon. I'd rather not spend anymore time with this devil," he nodded towards Maria, "than I have t-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the shell of the egg cracked, cleanly down the middle, and the two halves fell away, revealing a damp hatchling.

Its scales were a deep, rich blue, nearly black, and the edges of its wings were speckled with azure spots. Its back and head were smooth, with no signs of horns or spines, and it had five talons on each foot. The shape of its head was familiar, smooth as it was, and Philip felt a twist in his gut.

"It can't breathe fire, can it?" He asked Maria suddenly, hoping the dragons would be at least a little helpful.

"She can't," Maria said. "She is aligned with Air, not Fire." The pronoun didn't go unnoticed, and Philip found himself looking down at the dragon, which was now exploring the room.

"She, huh?" He said, crouching down. The dragon stopped and looked over at him before making her way over.

"Hello," she said, her voice light and feminine. "Did you hatch me? It was rather boring in the egg, sleeping for so long. I would like to go somewhere else. Maybe to the islands Maria has talked about, to see other dragons."

"Oh I can show you other dragons, alright," Philip said. "But you need to agree to listen to what I say. I'm not willing to drag along anything that will slow me down." Never-mind that he needed the dragon to go anywhere, otherwise he'd be stranded in the library. The hatchling didn't need to know about that.

"I can behave," the hatchling said, urgently, as though she dreaded the thought of being left behind in the library. "I can listen to you."

"You better," Philip growled. "Now, I need something to call you. Can't just call you Dragon or Devil all the time. Now, let's see..." he thought through a few names, trying to think of which fit the beast before him. "Yfel," he said finally. "It's exactly what you are."

Bad. Unfortunate. Wrong. Inferior. Evil. Yes, Philip thought, it fit her perfectly.

"Yfel," she said, testing the name. "Okay. I like it." Either she didn't know what it meant, or she was self aware enough to understand her kind's nature.

"Good," Philip said, "because I'm not calling you anything else. Now, let's get out of this room. I think I've spent enough time with the eggs for one lifetime."

"Are we leaving the library now?" Yfel asked.

"Not yet," Philip told her. "You're too small for me to ride." Yfel's wings slumped at that, and she lowered her head.

"Oh," she said. Philip would be moved if he thought it was genuine.

"You'll grow," he said anyway. "Now come on. It's been a long day, and I'd like to see if the dead can actually sleep." He made his way up the stairs, back to the library, and past Gina, all the while with Yfel following him. After getting a bit lost he begrudgingly allowed Gina to help, and the dragon led him to where the rooms for those who would be staying were.

(He tried to ignore how Yfel had hrr'd something at the small dragon; she was fresh from the egg and seemed to understand the tiny devil just fine. It was concerning, not being able to understand what they were saying to one another.)

The room itself was rather plain, but Philip had slept in worse. Sitting at the edge of the bed he began to remove his armor and boots. Yfel jumped up when he wasn't looking, but he felt the bed creak under her weight, and he turned, shoving her roughly off the bed.

"No!" He said, his voice firm. "I sleep on the bed; you sleep on the floor." She lowered her head, making a wounded sound, but she curled up on the floor anyway.

"I'm hungry," she complained, her voice small. "Can we go find food?"

"Find it yourself," Philip muttered. "I'm sure the other beasts could help you. If not, maybe there are rats for you to eat." There was a sound at the door, like something was thrown against it, and Philip jolted. Grabbing his sword, he threw open the door, only to find the dead body of a goat. Yfel fell upon it in an instant, eating greedily, while Philip was left wondering where it had come from. Probably Gina.

With a sigh Philip returned to stripping off his armor, and once he was down to his tunic and trousers he laid back, cautiously put out the light, and fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of demons and hellfire.

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

The Mystery of the Fold (Eliza 1)

There were two dragons in the cave, a large one and a small one.

The large one was a pale color, easily mistaken for white, when she was actually the pale pink of an albino, her scales lacking any sort of pigment, her body white tinged with pink where it should have been black, her markings red where they should have been brown. Her horns, however, horns and claws, and teeth as well, every sharp part of her body, was the deepest of blacks. It was not pigment which made them this way, however. It was the material they were made from, a rare sort of metal found only in the skeletons of her kind. If you cut her open, you would find her bones black as well.

The small dragon was like the large one, at least where coloration was concerned. But there were differences in her body, how she was built. She stood on her hind legs, though from time to time she could use the claws of her wings as additional feet. Her forepaws had taken on the role of hands, and were little use for walking around. Her ears twitched as she looked up at the larger dragon, her brown eyes uncertain.

"But if we know where the dragons are coming from," she asked, "why must I go to the Fold? Why can't I go to the native worlds instead? Besides, we already know about the Novak, and the Pernese, and many of the others. What more is there to learn?"

The large dragon blew out a bit of green smoke at the small one's questions. "You are not going to study the dragons themselves," she said. "You are going to study the Fold itself. It is a curious phenomenon, pulling dragons from all over into itself, and I want to learn more about it and its world. How the cultures operate in their new home. That is what you are going there to study. Understood?"

The smaller of the pair was suitably chastised, falling silent for a moment before she spoke again. "I can't go as I am," she said. "The Fold is...particular with what dragons it lets in. I cannot be what I am. And it has no native dragons it can call its own." The larger dragon gave a black, fang filled grin.

"Then I will need to remake you," she said. "I have a few creatures in mind. The Fold seems to feed off the imagination of humans and other such creatures, so I was thinking of turning you into something like that, something like an Elderling or an Ityasaari, something like that."

The smaller one shook her head frantically. "No!" She pleaded. "Don't take away my wings, make me anything else, don't take away my wings."

"Very well," the larger dragon said. "Then I won't."

With a flick of her claw she broke the smaller dragon down, bit by bit, until nothing remained but a memory, nestled safely inside the mind of the larger. She then began to build, keeping in mind the request of the young one, and the rules she had bound herself to.

She formed a shifter's body, made something which was dragon, yet could walk in the form of a man. Or, in this case, a young woman. The body was not overly large, a bit bigger than a tiger, maybe the size of a bear, and it bore the white scales and black horns that marked the young one as kin.

When she had finished Landilizandra, for that was the great dragon's name, smiled down at her creation.

"What do you think?" She asked, the goddess looking down at her remade Avatar. "Are you ready to complete your task?"

Eliza, the younger of the pair, opened her new eyes, and looked down at her new body. She found it suitable. "Yes, Mother," she told the great one. "I will not fail us."

--

Eliza awoke in the dark, her tail curled around her body and her wings tucked tight against her sides. She shook the sleep out of her head and looked around, unsure how she had gotten there. She remembered traveling to the Fold, remembered traveling into the Fold, and then...nothing. She was waking up, as if from a nap. Odd. Perhaps it was just part of the nature of the rift.

She shook herself off, stretched out her wings, and found them bumping into what felt like book shelves. She paused, folding them back against her body, and shifted into her human form, a pale thing with brown eyes and brown hair. She lifted a hand, taking one of the books from off its shelf, but it was too dark to read. She considered taking it anyway, figuring she could always read it when she found a source of light, but instead she placed it back on the shelf and knelt, opening her pack and blessing her Mother's foresight to send her with a Viper Suit, Talon made clothes enchanted to shift with her. All she needed to do was put them on once, and from there she could shift back and forth without needing to worry about flashing anyone.

Once she was dressed she threw her pack over her shoulder and started walking down the library's halls, hoping to find some way out of it soon. As she walked she thought back to what they knew about the Fold, and about what her Mother had said. Something about it seemed to rely on Draconity, not just on The Touch, or on Awakened, but specifically dragons, no matter how arbitrary that word was. What was a dragon in one place wasn't in another, and some creature could be more closely related to a dragon than another dragon, yet fail to earn the title?

Yet despite this, there were some who argued there was something more to it than just a word, that Draconity was something deeper, harder to touch yet still there. Eliza wasn't sure what camp she belonged to, but her Mother thought this world could help. Even if it didn't, it would still be an interesting subject of study.

And yet, as she walked she found herself troubled. Not only did the Fold rely on Draconity, but it seemed to bring humans and their ilk into itself to feed off their minds, off their dreams.

Conventional wisdom often held that dragons and humans were opposites. One were primordial serpents of magic and the elements, as large and as ancient as their worlds which birthed them, while the other were young apes, tool wielding and machine building, soft skinned and short lived.

Eliza new better. The creation of man's ancestors lay in the fins of a sea dragon, one which had, despite his wishes, weaved more than a bit of himself into them when he forged their souls. There was a controversial classification, known as Bonded or Bound, which described those Touched which had been spiritually joined to the ilk of men. Eliza knew Mother did not believe in them. Eliza was sure she didn't as well, but there was some doubt in her mind. Perhaps that's what Eliza was, in the end. An avatar of doubt, sent forth to learn the truth about everything, to see if they were right or wrong.

"Hrrr." Eliza stopped when she heard the noise, dropping down onto all fours and shifting back into a dragon. Her clothes vanished instead of shredding, and her pack, thankfully, shifted with her, the straps changing themselves so that they could more easily fit upon a dragon's back. She would much prefer to face whatever this was as a dragon. She'd be far safer as a dragon.

"Hrrr." The noise repeated itself, and into her field of vision a tiny dragon flew. It was too dark to make out her coloring, but Eliza could see she was small, and that she had four wings. "Hrrr," the dragon repeated, and though the tongue was largely foreign, Eliza understood the intent. The smaller dragon wanted her to follow her, which Eliza decided she may as well. There was no point in wandering around lost, after all.

The small dragon let Eliza to a flight of stairs and motioned towards them, hrrr-ing all the while. Clearly, she wanted Eliza to go down them. Eliza looked over at the stairs, a bit skeptical. They were narrow, not too narrow, but clearly not built for a dragon. In fact, nothing here seemed built for a dragon, at least not a large one.

"Thank you," Eliza said anyway, glad she was making progress. "Hr-rrR-r," she added, though she suspected her accent was atrocious.

Eliza descended the flight of stairs, which seemed to widen slightly to better accommodate her wings. But only slightly, and she doubted a larger dragon would be able to make their way down the stairs.

At the bottom was a circular chamber, lit by pale, glowing pillars, and full of eggs of all sorts. Some she recognized, some were foreign to her. There was a pool in the center, with more eggs (ones belonging to more aquatically inclined varieties) held within. Near the pool, her silver scales reflecting in the water, was a Silver Dragon, a kind Eliza had heard of long ago. They fed off moonlight, used it to power their wings. She wondered how long this one had been trapped here with the eggs.

"Hello," the dragon said, giving Eliza a polite nod. "It has been a while since other dragons have made their way into the library. Most start outside of it, or come as eggs. What is your name? I am Maria."

"Hello," Eliza said, returning the nod. "I am Eliza." She looked around, taking in all the eggs before turning back to the larger dragon. "What is this place?"

"This is the Library," Maria replied. "This is where the story begins, both your story and the story of the egg you will choose."

"Choose?" Eliza asked, starting to feel uneasy again. She began to sense this was some cache for Riders. "Who said I'm taking an egg?"

"The eggs cannot leave the Library if they are not chosen," Maria said. "As someone who has entered through the Library, it is your destiny to take an egg. If an egg does not leave with you, it won't leave at all."

"What if someone else takes it?" Eliza asked. Surely she would not be the only hope one of the eggs had of freedom. Maria shrugged her wings.

"They might," she said. "They might not. The not seems more likely to me."

"What if someone took all the eggs?" Eliza asked. "What if I took all the eggs?"

"That would be a lot to carry," Maria pointed out.

And a lot of hatchlings to tend to, Eliza thought ruefully. She had been sent here with a purpose, she couldn't give it up just to go stealing away eggs.

"What happens when every egg is taken, though?" Eliza asked. "If enough people come, and take all the eggs?" Maria nodded towards the stairs.

"Then I will finally be able to leave."

Well then, that left Eliza with a bit of a dilemma. She could refuse the egg, but in doing so she may curse both it and Maria to an eternity. Or she could take the egg, and let another dragon fly free.

Or, perhaps, she could keep the hatchling close by, at least at first. Lucy had not been able to come with her this journey, and Eliza missed the small primate's company. Her studies would be lonely, if she went about it on her own.

"Alright," Eliza said, turning back towards the larger dragon. "I'll take one of the eggs." She turned away from the dragons and went to examine the eggs, looking over each ones carefully. She passed over any she wasn't familiar with; while that would prove to be an enlightening opportunity, she had a job to do and couldn't be preoccupied in learning how to best raise a newborn dragon. She also passed over any eggs which she knew would overly large, for she had wings of her own, and no need for a mount, which is what she suspected most who left the library used their dragons for.

As she was looking over the collection a small egg, caught her attention, and without thinking she reached over and picked it up in her talons.

"A Mew," Maria said, sounding pleased. "A fine choice of egg. I think you two will get along quite well."

"What?" Eliza asked, the other dragon's words catching her off guard. "No I was only looking at it. I didn't...pick...it..." Except she had, she had looked at it, and touched it, and lifted it to examine more closely. What else was there to call her actions, if she hadn't selected an egg. "I suppose you're right," she acquiesced, before looking back at her egg. A Mew. Now that was a dragon she was plenty familiar with. She knew the Draconeans of their world had trained them, that they took to the instructions of other dragons far better than they did humans. They could be taught to hunt and herd, which was exactly the sort of companion she needed. It would probably be feral, but she could handle that. She was familiar enough with feral dragons to manage.

“Before I leave,” she said, setting the egg down gently, intent on placing it in her pack later, when she would be able to shift, “what can you tell me about this world? I am not sure where to go.”

"There are five directions here, rather than four, and there are four islands you need to know about to tell these directions," Maria said. "Below us, the bottom most island is the Sea, held in the coils of Jormungandr." A name Eliza recognized, she wondered if it was the same one, a coincidence, or a multiverse duplicate. "Up and Down are told in relation to this island. Down is going towards the Sea, up is going away from it.

"Then there is Wyrmbergia, a mountainous island where many dragons live." Which sounded to Eliza to be the best place to go. "If you want to head towards this island, you are going Wyrmward. Next is Niflheim, the island of ice and night. You are going Iceward if you head towards it. Finally, Muspell is the island of smoke and fire. It is also where you will find most of the Nightmares. Its direction is given as Firewards."

"What are Nightmares?" Eliza asked. It sounded like an important detail.

"Nightmares are creatures of evil," Maria explained. "The gods try to destroy them, and have managed to destroy most, but those which remain are angry. I can assure you, they are no friends to dragons. I would avoid them if you can."

And Eliza had every intention of avoiding them. She was here to study the dragons, not whatever malevolent creatures existed among them.

"Thank you," Eliza said. "I think I may stay in the library, until my egg hatches, so that I can learn a bit more. Is that allowed?"

"Of course," Maria said. "Gina has beds for anyone who wishes to stay."

"Thank you," Eliza said, picking the egg up gently in her jaws and heading back up the stairs to where the library and the beds were.

[the-tales-of-the-fold]

The Tales of the Fold

A Tumblr RP Blog for my characters from @north-wyrm‘s DeviantArt Group, found here. This blog is here 1) so that I can post my stories on tumblr and 2) to make RPing easier.