Creative Corner

[center]Hi! I'm Drosera, and this is my first time making a forum thread. I’m just gonna be writing about the lore of my clan here, finalising ideas and all that. [emoji=plant size=1][/center]

In the grand expanse of space, a solitary spirit drifted between star systems. They were a kind of spirit known as a retix, and they were one of many. Each and every one of their kind would start out in The Theoretix Plane, where manifest ideas flourished beyond reality.
Ideas only survive when they stick out, though. They could be powerful, or they could be paltry. Such was the case with retixs too. What mattered was what those above them thought- higher divine beings, true gods compared to mere spirits. If a retix was able to stay in the forefront of the mind of a deity more powerful than themself, they could live on and accomplish amazing things.
There were two paths retixs tended to take; manifesting an idea, a simple and clean concept, so completely that it could persist easily even in its volatile metaphysical form. The other? To anchor oneself with a physical form for a time, sacrificing their power but giving themself enough time to do something worth being remembered for.
This retix, the one flying across the cosmos, was a coward. As such, they chose the latter.

Droseran was determined to live, and to do so in solitude. They traveled from planet to planet taking plant samples from each. They had the quaint notion that in the breeding of more and more extensively dramatic cultivars of plants from throughout the universe, they could make a name for themself with higher beings. To accomplish this task, they crafted a physical form made of modified sundew matter, ambulatory and dexterous enough to function for their work.
Their travels took them all over. They used a ship, so as to house the materials they collected. And while plantlife dominated their day to day, sentient life terrified them. Droseran was weak for a spiritual being, and they knew it. They considered their ongoing life to be a sign of mercy at best; the gods were humouring them, that was all. They certainly wouldn’t protect them if some rowdy alien came snarling their way.

But… the Everbloom gardens were so beautiful. Sornieth was awash with such a variety of life, and so much of it was sentient and, as such, scary. But they couldn’t help but pass their ship by it over and over again just to glance down and take a look. The vivid flowers, the contrasting variegated leaves, the velvety hairs that made certain grasses shine like silver… eventually, they found they simply couldn’t stop themself.
In the dead of night, they hoped, the majority of the locals would be asleep. They could land quietly, in an isolated pocket with plenty of tall brushy trees to eat up the sound of their landing and break the wind it created. They would hop out, gather some pre-selected specimens- only those along a strict path so as to maximise speed and value!- and be back inside their ship, taking off before the first crepuscular creature cracked an eye open.
From the time they landed, things went surprisingly according to plan. They were nervous to the point of shaking, but they could hear nary a breath from any other living being, so that had to be worth something. They took off on their route, taking mostly leaves- samples could be grown in agar to propagate mature individuals, so there wasn’t too much to fuss about in terms of uprooting or anything like that. It was all pretty easy, and by the time they figured they were about done for the night, they had relaxed enough to really be enjoying the experience. Perhaps they could stop by again some time… they could take the samples they missed, maybe get some more from different individuals of the species they’d taken from already, get some info on the local pH to see what the best medium would be for further experiments…

They were so consumed with these happy thoughts as they made their way back to their ship that they barely noticed it;

The egg.

They did a doubletake… the what?

But, sure as could be, by the door to their ship sat an absolutely tiny egg. Droseran marveled at it for a moment, their brain not putting together what it was. When they did, they were horrified. It was by the door! The door was up the steps! A local lifeform had gone up the steps of their spaceship! What if it was still inside? In waiting? To attack??
As their mind flitted through the possibilities, each more frightening than the last, the egg began to crack.
And oh god, the egg was cracking. The thing was hatching. Right there! What if it decided Droseran would be its first meal? What if it’s parents came back and attacked them for getting so close? What horrid beast could it even be?

The dragon that gently but persistently struggled to push its way out of the egg was small and grey. Its eyes could scarcely open, but bulged out from its little head enough to look enormous, squinting up into the world outside its egg for the first time in its little life. It faced Droseran, looking up at them. And Droseran looked back at it.

Just like that, their heart was stolen.

The little fae hatchling was precious, it was so pathetic and small and helpless, and what were they going to do, just leave it there? No. They couldn’t, they just couldn’t. But it was a creature of this world. This was the best place for it- who could say if it’d even survive off of Sornieth?

So, there was no other option.

They had to stay.

They extended their fleshy tendrils out in one final stretch, before squeezing them in on themself. They compressed more and more tightly, forming the greenery into faux-sinew, creating the visage of a fae dragon, just like the hatchling. Bigger, though- able to take care of it. They named the infant Mephistopheles.

“Mephistopheles,” they said, “this is our home now. This will be our Domain.”

And so it was that the two would live in their little enclave just beyond the Everbloom Gardens, just the two of them.

Mephistopheles grew up in Droseran’s care. The two lived in complete isolation, actively hiding from any sign of another dragon- Droseran’s nervous nature rubbed off on him to the point where any unexpected sound could make Mephistopheles jump. He never learned to speak, being completely mute. At most, he was able to squeak in distress or extreme exertion. But he was clever and energetic and a good hunter, carefully stalking bugs before pouncing with great speed. Between this and Droseran’s natural tendency to attract insects with their sundew-drops, the pair were able to sustain themselves well.
Droseran enjoyed getting to study the local flora in greater depth in situ than they generally gave themself the opportunity to, and Mephistopheles would sunbake nearby as they darted between plants. They had a routine, and they were happy.

Eventually, when he was approaching fully grown, Mephistopheles strayed further from the clearing in which Droseran’s ship sat than usual. He was following an especially large, loud, erratic beetle, and refused to halt his chase. It darted between trees, hit them and bounced off, scurried then flew again, and he ducked and weaved and jumped to follow. What he finally ended up smacking his claws down upon, though was not a beetle;

It was a ridgeback.

Mephistopheles raised his head up to look at what he’d dove headfirst into, and his eyes widened tremendously. His immediate instinct was to run, fly, just- just get away, however it could be done. But the terror he felt was so overwhelming that he couldn’t get his limbs to listen to him. He fell in the dirt and scrambled back, frantic.

“Hello. I am Cerise.”

Cerise had no interest in the diminutive dragon before her. He was squirming a lot, but fae dragons were often strange to her in their mannerisms. She figured he was chasing a lost familiar or something… she’d let him get back to it.
So, the ridgeback, in all her terrifying bulk, picked up her heavy feet and walked away.

Cerise was gone for a long while before Mephistopheles’ heart rate started to lower at all. He knew he had to return to Droseran, but the sheer adrenaline left him exhausted, and he could barely pick himself up. So for a time he just laid back, trying to get his breathing back to normal and think about what happened. It was probably nothing, right? Just a dragon that happened to be passing through the area- it happened at times, though rarely, and he and his parent were generally pretty adept at noticing the signs ahead of time and battening down the door to the spaceship… She wouldn’t be back, though, right? Surely? Yes, surely.

He went home, and resolved not to think about it again.

Only, that proved more difficult than he imagined. He couldn’t get her towering visage out of his head. She could so easily crush him, Droseran, everything they had and everything they knew-! He had nightmares for several days. Droseran worried about how tired he looked, but he squirmed away from their inquiries, so they’d end up having to just shrug and leave it be.

Out hunting another day, Mephistopheles heard- and felt- a thundering shake of the ground. This was something he’d heard before, several times… the movement of a large dragon. Surely not the ridgeback again, right? Not that it mattered, ultimately. She wouldn’t have a grudge against him for running into her, right? Well, just to be sure, he had to see where she- or whoever- was going. He followed the sound and peered out from between two thick central leaders splitting off from the base of a tree.
Indeed, it was her. She was passing by a similar route to that which she had been on before. Was that her ambush strategy? To attack his and Droseran’s home from this northern position? But she just trudged along, uniform in her pace and unbothered in her expression, not that Mephistopheles had a great frame of reference. Still, it didn’t seem like she was actively moving to attack right now.

But… best to keep an eye on things, yes?

Mephistopheles kept hunting up where Cerise tended to wander through, and stare out at her. His fear subsided more and more, curiosity taking its place. Interest. Her scales were gorgeous, shining like the night sky in all of Droseran’s old maps of the cosmos. She looked stoic, stalwart, strong. And he remembered her voice- so different from Droseran’s high trill. Decisive and unbothered. He knew he couldn’t hold a conversation with her, and the thought of it made him oddly sad for reasons he couldn’t place.

He watched her. When she didn’t pass by as she often did, he would worry she had gone for good. He figured she lived around here, but she hadn’t always been around. Was she visiting, then? If so, for how long? He had so many questions he wanted to ask, and not just about her. About the world. Something about her sparked this interest in other dragons that he’d never really had before. Other dragons had been scary, big or swarming or capable of magic he didn’t understand. But she didn’t try to kill him when she had the chance, and he’d never seen her try to hurt anyone else, either. Not that he’d ever seen her with anyone else at all…

Mephistopheles could only watch her for so long before he couldn’t help himself from approaching. She did something unusual, that day; she happened to sit herself down in the tall, warm grass to take a rest. He figured, well, if she moved to attack, he’d have time to book it as she got all of her weight back on her feet. That was a bit of an advantage, right?
So he took a risk. He slowly moved out of his hiding space in the forest, trying to make himself obvious so as to trigger a reaction from her as early as possible, so they’d still be a good distance apart when he figured out what she was likely to do.

Alas, she had closed her eyes, appearing to be taking a rest in the warm afternoon sun. He paused at a certain distance, recognising this, and stood for a while, to consider his next move.

“I know you’re there, fae.”

Her words had him arching his back in fright, but he steeled himself. He moved a little closer as Cerise opened her eyes, one at a time. She looked down at him consideringly.

“You’ve been watching me, yes? When I happen to pass through.”

Mepistopheles nodded.

“Why is that?”

He couldn’t answer her in any way she could easily understand, so he just stood his ground and stared back at her.

“...Not one for words?”

He shook his head, and she smiled a little.

“Curious. Would you like to enjoy the sun with me, for a time?”

Mephistopheles smiled back.

It came to be a regular occurrence that the pair would meet. Cerise at first believed his silence to be a choice- stoicism, a sign of wisdom. But she did soon come to understand that such was not so. Still, she appreciated his presence. She told him of her homeland in the Sea of a Thousand Currents, how she set out in search of a greater purpose to her life. She had been told by a seer of her flight that she had a destiny far away, and had wandered for years in pursuit of it. She knew she would find it eventually; doubt was not in her nature. Knowing his own nerves, he admired her greatly for this. She found that she liked the feeling that gave her.

Cerise came to understand how Mephistopheles' anxieties were, how he only ever flew low to the ground for fear of falling. She let him ride on her back high up into the sky, encouraged him to take off for himself as well, and promised to catch him if his wings failed him. When he looked down and fright froze him, she did. And he didn’t seize up again after that.

Droseran noticed the change, but saw nothing to worry about. He took off in the morning with such energy, came back smiling and bright. They were glad to see him doing so well, always wanting to see him happy.

Walking and listening to Cerise one day, Mephistopheles was struck by the desperation she spoke about her purpose with. How badly she wanted to find whatever she was put on Sornieth to do.

“Until I find it… I feel that I am in purgatory. Knowing that I had a destiny, but that I am not able to follow it- it makes all my time feel wasted. What if I am old and feeble by the time I learn what I was to do? There is so much I wish to learn. What secrets does fate hold?”

Mephistopheles couldn’t help but wonder what Droseran might have to say to something like that. Mephistopheles knew that their parent wasn’t a real dragon, and they did not come from this plane of existence. Perhaps they would hold the answers Cerise sought?
Droseran had always been wary of other dragons… but they were scared even of his own egg at first, right? And he’d learned not to be afraid of Cerise. Maybe it was time to introduce them.

Cerise followed Mephistopheles despite not knowing where he was leading her. To his clan, perhaps? Or just a nicer place to rest.

It was a quaint scene that they came to. There were some clearly cultivated gardens set up in a clearing, as well as a strange round structure that looked like technology from the Shifting Expanse, or perhaps the Starfall Isles. Nothing Cerise was familiar with, herself. But presumably this was what Mephistopheles called home.
There certainly wasn’t a traditional roost. Even more surprising, though, was from what she knew, fae generally formed swarms with others of their kind, living in large social groups…

…But there was only one fae staring back at the pair when they made their way there.

Droseran was terrified.

That fear was first for themself, and then they saw Mephistopheles. Their son, right there, right next to the enormous dragon that was invading their space. He was so close to her- had she already hurt him? Was she hunting him? What did she want?

Whatever it was, they were not going to give her the option to get it.

Droseran’s body began to decompress, tendrils of plant matter extending out and drawing from their spiritual form, losing physicality as they extended like a swarming mass. Their squirming bulk shot out at such length and speed that it seemed to Cerise like all at once there was a wall of vines blocking half the sky.

The tendrils dove down onto Cerise, engulfing her quickly. She was taken by surprised, but even when she began to struggle she found it impossibly difficult to break through the grip on her. The tendrils bound her tighter and tighter in on herself, and worse still, secreted a sticky fluid that restricted her movement entirely, and started to lightly burn. She couldn’t even open her jaws to curse at the situation.

Droseran was determined to bring down any creature that dare lay hands on their precious child.

…Which made it awfully confusing when they saw Mephistopheles himself trying desperately to claw the mass off of the ridgeback. Droseran hesitated, then flew over to him.

“What is it? What’s wrong, what- what are you doing?!”

Mephistopheles looked back over his shoulder with wide, wet, scared eyes, then turned straight back to continue clawing futilely. Droseran, all at once, realised that they had made a serious mistake.

They retracted the growth, freeing Cerise and pulling it all back into themself. Cerise collapsed, panting, and Mephistopheles flew to her head and touched his forehead sweetly to her’s. That was enough for Droseran to fully realise the nature of the pair’s relationship, and they were flooded with shame from their actions.
They had always been afraid of what sentient life in the physical realm might bring them, but now they could see the threat that they themself could be.

So Droseran fled back into their ship, holing up there to wallow in their regret. In time, Cerise left their little clearing, and Mephistopheles came inside to them. Droseran told him that they could see now that the ones who really needed protection was others from themself, and not vice versa. But Mephistopheles was free to live his life to the fullest, and it was not fair of them to keep that from him. This was his planet, he was truly of it, and he had every right to see anything and everything it had to offer. Mephistopheles pressed himself to their side, not wanting to see his parent distressed.

Days passed. Mephistopheles, despite what Droseran had said, had no inclination to leave their parent behind. He was loyal, and he loved them greatly. They felt bad that he had to choose at all, though.

Only, he didn’t. Cerise returned. It was much like when Mephistopheles first determined that he would approach her, really; she came from a distance, presenting herself openly. Droseran shrank to see her, but Mephistopheles flew forward happily.

“Hello, my dear,” Cerise greeted him. “Have you been well?”

He grinned at her, and she returned the gesture.

She looked back to Droseran, and slowly approached. When she made her way close enough, she left them surprised- Cerise bowed to the cowardly retix. They were somewhat glad, since it meant they didn't have to meet her eyes.

“I have never seen anything like what you did.” Droseran cringed at her words, but tried not to show it too much. Cerise didn’t speak with anger, only conviction. “I do not understand how you did it, or what you are. But I wish to learn. I wish to stay by his side, at well, if he would have me. If I may stay, with you both.”

Droseran looked up at her. They looked at how their son smiled at her, and looked back at them with bright, hopeful eyes.

What could they say?

“W-what’s ours… is yours. Welcome home, um-?”

“Cerise.”

“Welcome home, Cerise.”

Cerise and Mephistopheles went out to hunt together every day. Meanwhile, Droseran continued their work, feeling so pleased to see Mephistopheles with a connection to Sornieth like the ridgeback. They seemed a happy pair, and happiness was all they wanted for their son.

Cerise didn’t entirely understand Droseran’s work, but was curious nonetheless. She would offer to help with anything she could, and they appreciated it. She would gather samples from further afield than Droseran felt comfortable venturing on their own, for one. And she could describe how flora differed across different areas of Sornieth, even if it was only in the vague terms of someone not particularly botanically minded.

But while things were generally quite nice between the trio in their early time living together, it wasn’t always smooth sailing.

“What is the world you come from like?”

There were a lot of questions. Indeed, Cerise’s curiosity went a lot further than just the work Droseran busied themself with from day to day. She would fill the absence left by Mephistopheles in the conversations between the pair, but in general she wasn’t an extremely chatty sort. Even still, she’d go more quiet than normal for periods, and come out with burning questions that she had surely been thinking on deeply.

“Um-”, Droseran couldn’t help but falter under the intensity of gaze that the much taller dragon focused squarely on them. It made them hyper aware of every movement, every word. Still, they blamed it on their own cowardice, as it wasn’t like Cerise was being rude or anything. “It’s- it wasn’t, uh, really a world, per se- not in the way you’d think of it?? More like… a dimension? It’s a plane, there’s- we, uh, retixs can see into this one, this one’s called the- um…”

“Yes?”

Droseran could swear she hadn’t blinked since first asking her question. She was so tall...

She would ask her questions, and Droseran would squirm but answer accordingly, and they would move on. They never knew if they gave her the answers she wanted to hear, as she never said much afterwards. It felt like a test, and they couldn’t help but feel like they were failing.
One day, Cerise flew off without Mephistopheles. She didn’t explain, and Droseran was terrified they’d said or done something to ruin this for their son. The guilt made their insides painful, until late into the evening she returned with a quill and parchment. From then on, she would take notes on what they said.

“So these ‘retixs’; you need to anchor yourself onto something to stay in power?”

“Um, that’s, that’s one way of, um… taking it.”

“...Am I wrong?”

Droseran didn’t want to tell Cerise when she was wrong. They didn’t want to complicate their son’s relationship. Mephistopheles was bright with Cerise around, like she’d been missing his whole life. To finally have that only to lose it again… Droseran would never want to be responsible for that.

(And if Cerise left, would Mephistopheles follow?)

Better just to nod along when she seemed pleased with something she’d thought of. What harm did it do, really, anyway? What terms Divines used for things in their sphere, so far from her… whatever made her happy, surely that was enough.

“Do you know the Great Wyrms?”

“The- what?”

“The Great Wyrms,” Cerise went on, “the elemental deities to which each flight is devoted. The Tidelord, the Gladekeeper, the Arcanist, and so on. As another god, do you know them- personally?”

Droseran blanched.

“As- as a what?”

“A god.”

That was new.

Cerise had always treated them with a great deal of respect. They’d optimistically hoped that it was because they were the parent of the dragon she was courting. But perhaps that had been a naive thought; Droseran had attacked her quite viciously.

Had they learned nothing, after all? They’d always been afraid of others, but they had through Cerise seen that they were the real threat. To not think how that would effect how the ridgeback thought of them… it was stupid of them. She might be huge and know Sornieth much better that them, but Droseran had hurt her in a way she’d had no way to prepare for. Not considering that there might be remnant fear, and what that might warp her thoughts about them into, that was shortsighted.

Better to nip it in the bud now, at least.

“I- I wouldn’t, generally, um, call myself… that.”

“No?”

“...No…”

It was hard, but Droseran realised they really ought to talk to Mephistopheles about it. See how Cerise was feeling, if she was afraid of them, see if that’s where these questions were coming from. Droseran had a duty as a guardian to be accommodating of those Mephistopheles cared about, and they didn’t want to fall short in that role. They’d kept him isolated for so long already, so they had to at least try.

But he didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with her. They looked at them with confusion when they asked, and it made them feel silly and ashamed. They just floundered, dropping the topic and asking if he’d learned any new hunting techniques from her instead. He happily began miming a demonstration, and they laughed along as he played so serious hunting shadows on the wall, and the thought of discussing the matter further went far from their mind.

On their own, though, as they worked, they found themself thinking about it again. Maybe Cerise didn’t want to talk about it to Mephistopheles so as to not offend him. If she was trying to be courteous, to not cause him any stress, it was probably quite rude of them to bring it up as they had.

They decided, shaking though they would be with nervousness, that they had it wrong by trying to be indirect.

“Why I am interested in what you are?”

“Y-yes. Uh, not that it bothers me! No, I just was, uhm, curious, is all. I- aha, I never really thought of myself as… that interesting.”

Cerise didn’t chuckle at the tone of jest Droseran tried to keep to. It made them feel overwarm and nervous, like they’d really offended her. She just stood there staring at them. Were they supposed to meet her eyes? They didn’t want to. But they wanted to be polite. Did she want them to look away first? No, that was just wishful thinking, they shouldn’t give themself an excuse- but then, Cerise herself looked off, as if recalling something from far recesses of her mind.

“...I have long since looked for purpose. I was told that one waits for me. I have journeyed far in pursuit of it” She looked at Droseran’s again. Their eyes flickered away, but they screwed them shut, braced themself, and returned her gaze once more. “You are a divine being. My path must have been leading me here.”

The ridgeback picked up one clawed foot, then another, and began a slow pace before the little green retix-fae.

“There must be something I am meant to do… That power of yours which I bore witness to- I knew since then.” Her movements were fluid, relaxed, almost mesmerising. It took a moment to realise that she had gotten so close, almost completely encircling the space around Droseran. “Perhaps there would be clarity if I were to bare witness to it again.”

“What-?”

Clarity shot through them like lightning, but chilling in its wake. Their scales stuck up like goosebumps. Their head swam, they felt dizzy. It didn’t feel real. Certainly not something that she of all people would request.

“No.”

Droseran said it with a level of strength, of conviction, that on a regular day they wouldn’t believe someone telling them that they could have. But they wouldn’t stutter through this, they wouldn’t risk any miscommunication. They had hurt Cerise, and it shamed them. Mephistopheles had thrown himself into the mass they created, if they hadn’t seen him, he could have been hurt too. And for what good? They couldn’t do anything of value.

But Cerise didn’t know that. She was a Separate, a being of The Separate Plane who couldn’t understand the hierarchy of Divines, and know just how low retixs were. How low Droseran was, especially.

“...Is there something preventing you from using your powers?”

How could Droseran explain that to her? How irrelevant they were, how little they could do? How even if they could do everything, it could only matter so much. To a young dragon like her who clearly wanted to find meaning… how could Droseran tell her the truth? That there was none? That life was just life, and Divinity was in very few ways at all different from any mortal, and were no use in finding what she sought? It would be cruel.

“I- uh… I mean, yes, I guess there’s-” there’s nothing for you here. How awful of a thought. Would they really say that? Would they break their son’s heart, in breaking Cerise’s? “Um…”

“It’s a lack of worshippers, isn’t it?”

Droseran blinked.

“...What?”

“Retixs. You said that your kind are able to exist only with acknowledgement. Your power grows as you are recognised for having that power.” She began to pace again, leaving her circle around Droseran like she was a snake slithering off their shoulders. “You are unable to access the full extent of what you can do when you are without dragons to give you the attention on which you sustain yourself with. Correct?”

No, it wasn’t correct.

It didn’t actually matter as all what a mortal being knew about a retix. It was about that Hierarchy, with those above them being those whose attention allowed them to live. Sure, Separates could be of some help- if enough people paid attention to them, then other Divines might notice. But it’d have to be a big impact, since small scale mythologies, stories, imaginary friends even… everyone had those. It wasn’t enough to make every single retix who threw themself into a role like that mean anything to beings with so many lives to potentially watch and effect. On its own, a retix could be the centre of one person or a couple peoples lives, and never gain anything from it. It certainly wouldn’t strengthen their powers. Their abilities were fluid, only as strong as the concept they embodied allowed…

Droseran was just… not a very far reaching entity, and neither did they seek to be. They were anchored, they were stable. They were content.

But Cerise seemed to have her answer. And wouldn’t it just be easier to say she was right…?

“...Yes. I’m, uh- I’ve gotten weaker, since, since coming here… I had one, uh, last big- kick of energy! And I used that when, um… when… you know, before…”

“I understand.”

She didn’t, really. But she thought she did. Was that enough? Looking for purpose… that was a fool’s errand, as far as Droseran saw it- not that they’d ever say it out loud. They had to do something like that because of what they were. But it was never enough to make them really happy. They’d found happiness when they’d found Mephistopheles, and that wasn’t something they’d ever expected or planned for.

If Cerise needed to feel like her life had meaning… this could be enough. If this would take the weight off her heart, then all to the good, and she could find that real joy that Droseran had found. Maybe one day, maybe decades in the future, she would look over at Droseran and smile, admitting that the only meaning her life had to have was the peace and joy she’d gotten to experience. They could laugh together, and watch the next young dragon who thought they had to find greater value to their life with the same wry smile, knowing that they’d figure it out for themself too some day.

Right?

“So this is my purpose…”

Droseran looked up at her, hopeful.

Cerise stepped back, raising her head high. She was smiling, and her pride in this achievement was clear. She looked around the area, their little clearing, taking it all in. She looked so satisfied… Did she see, then? That a quiet life, one with people who made you happy, was enough?

“You are a deity estranged from your own power. You hold secrets of the universe in your claws. But you are left squandered here, alone. I will not allow this to continue; Droseran, I give you my word that I will grow this into a full clan. You will have worshippers, you will guide them in your wisdom. I will inscribe your word and share it with your congregation.”

OH.

“Ah… aha…”

Oh dear.

The coward couldn’t think of what to say.

Oh no.

“...I-... thank you…”

The scant light of the flickering fire cast long warped shadows from the crumbling pillars in the little corner of Hewn City where the group of light flight dragons had settled in. They stripped the meat off the carcass of the day’s game, roasting it and telling stories to push the darkness from their minds. They drank easily and embellished their successes, an argument or seven breaking out on matters of accuracy, but always ending in laughter. It was a warm scene, it was a nice scene.

Nicht didn’t have the patience for it.

He didn’t hate laughter or anything, he didn’t begrudge others their joy. But this was not his clan, as was no other, and so to feed his hungry hatchling belly, he needed to wait til the hunters drank themselves all the way to sleep. Only then could he squeeze in and take from their scraps.

It took time, but he bided it well, and came away with a good haul. He had no dragon to share it with, and thank goodness, as it was generous for one, but meager for any more than that. He scarfed it down quickly so he could make his way back into the safety of the shadows.

This was much the pattern each day of Nicht’s life. Subsisting on the leftovers of careless strangers and the pathetic amount he could catch on his own, small and frail as he was. Hewn City was no easy place for a lone hatchling like him. He spent his days scavenging and hiding. A thief wasn’t a popular thing to be, but he desperately wanted to live, and there was little other way for him to pursue that goal.

They called him a rat-child, scrounging and polluted and undesirable. But with his scales like an evening sky, he could fly off and blend into the background before anyone could trap him- at least, most of the time. When he hadn’t, he’d been left bruised and crumpled.

He found one of the taller surviving pillars of the city to perch on, and surveyed his surroundings. The clan he had taken from was not the only one around, not by far. He saw many lights shining through the darkness. Roaring fires, dancing torches, and the cold glow of electrical lights shipped in from the Shifting Expanse. Distant as each was, none offered any warmth to him.

He didn’t want to stay here forever. He knew there was no place for him here. But maybe, somewhere, there was. He didn’t care where, he felt no loyalty to the Lightbringer. Just so long as he could get through each day with a level of confidence that he’d make it to the next one.

Eventually, he set off to find that place. He had dallied a long while, largely over whether he should try to make his way to the Tangled Wood. He was a nocturne, it was his ancestral homeland. But he was a light elemental as well. How would he be received? He was well and truly tired of being actively unwelcome, so in the end he decided not to find out at all.

The Viridian Labyrinth was not a long journey, and carried less risk. He could have flown if he was stronger, perhaps older, but he was not- short bursts were the extent of his ability. So he stowed away on a ship instead, some trade vessel that wouldn’t notice an item of extra luggage so long as it bit it’s tongue and kept still under the tarp when the hold was open. There was a calamity when they docked and began unloading, but he successfully shot his way out and into the thick mangrove forest of the shoreline before any of the sailors could get a claw on him.

Nicht had hoped that his life would improve some in this new landscape, lush as it was. But he was no omnivore, and his hunting skills left much to be desired; it never helped to start with an empty stomach. His energy flagged, and his desperate manner of living remained much the same. He was always hungry, never comfortable.

The Everbloom Gardens- that’s where he wanted to go. He’d heard that it was the easiest place for a young dragon to live, that there was plenty of food and creatures so fat and happy within it that it would never cross their minds that they might be hunted; dragons could simply pluck them from the trees and bite into them like apples. He dreamed about that, hunting that could be easy even for him.

So he clambered through the forests. He tripped over thick roots, became tangled in the brush, and hung on just the wrong stretch of a liana enough times that he never went a day without a new graze or bruise to show for his efforts. At the end of a bad day, he looked little different to how he had when he’d get caught thieving in Hewn City.

He’d left to see things change. To see them improve. He’d taken a leap of faith, and yes, he’d had nothing to lose but a life that was already draining away- but he’d had hope. Every time it felt like things could improve, they just… didn’t. They stayed the same, or got worse, and he’d just had to keep prying himself off the ground only to try again and get the same bloody result.

It was miserable. But it was miserable in the same way it always was. In the end, he just stopped caring. He wanted to live; that was it. Nothing else mattered. He didn’t have the energy for anything else to matter. He was too cold for it to matter, too hungry for it to matter, too scratched up and sickly and pathetic for it to matter.

He did make it to the Everbloom Gardens. He found his cornucopia, and it was every vibrant dream he’d ever had. At least, at first glance.

Problem was, it was teeming. So many clans made their homes there that he could scarcely make his way through without being informed he was on their territory. Sure, they weren’t all attacking him on sight, but he knew how this went. Dragons would pity the little nocturne at first, going oh, how sad… but as soon as he took from them, he was the rat-child again. He didn’t understand what was right, what the rules of strange clans were, but they’d treat him like he did, like he was doing it on purpose.
Maybe dragons just didn’t like feeling sorry for someone. They hated the feeling of having to care about someone, especially someone like him, someone not their kin. So the first chance to douse any unhappy responsibility with hatred, they’d take it- it was easier. It gave them an excuse. That became his theory, at least.

He found a quiet clearing just outside of the Gardens, hoping to gather himself. Where could he go from here? Was this his best option? Rabbits still ran away from him, and he was too fatigued to give chase. It might be easier to steal here where there was so much going on, and dense brush to hide in. What to do…

But, as should not have surprised him at this point, Nicht had crossed into the territory of a local clan.

The ridgeback saw the young nocturne. She saw the sunken eyes, the ribs visible through his hide, the scales flaking off in places. Saw how, when he noticed her shadow looming, he shook.

Usually, that’s when Nicht would run. Fly, try to find shelter, and hide til no one was looking for him. Then, come nightfall, extract himself and crawl away through the dark.

But at this point, why bother? This was what his life was like. He was too weak to try anymore. Too weak to even be afraid.

“Hello, little one.”

He didn’t respond. Was she going to play at being sympathetic, like the others, only to turn on him when he didn’t know what food was reserved for nesting dragons, or what taboos existed for nature dragons? Though, judging by her eyes, she wasn’t born in nature. Regardless, he didn’t have anything much to say.

“Come. Warm yourself, and eat.”

Well, even if it would only exist in passing, he would take what he was given for now.

As it turned out, it wasn’t much of a clan at all. Three dragons could hardly be classified as such. The ridgeback had him sleep a ways away from them- her family was special, she said. He didn’t care, though. Every night there was a fire, and they gathered to eat around it, and he could sleep through a night without jolting awake at the sound of an older dragon growling to catch him where he shouldn’t be. If all he had to do to get that was keep a bit of a distance, that seemed a fair trade.

The ridgeback, Cerise, would talk to him. Tell him that the green fae, Droseran, was a divine being from far beyond. That they were important, had great power. But they needed to grow their congregation of devotees. It meant nothing to him, but he nodded. He never spoke out of turn, he never scoffed at her ideas, he just sat and listened. Droseran looked at him with concern, but Cerise seemed stalwart.

They let him stay for a time. He was at the end of his rope, he didn’t want to move on again. He didn’t even know where he’d go. So, he asked what he could do to help. Cerise gave him tasks; she had him gathering plant samples from small crevices for Droseran, she had him gather leaves to cover the metal den in to keep out the rain and retain warmth, she had him scrounge for treasure and materials.

He did it all, and by day’s end he’d be dusty, his claws blunt from use, his breathing thin. Then she would nod, and he would take his place by the fire and eat.

“It is not right for any in our clan to be without use. We must grow, and grow strong. None can take of our stores without offering equal value in turn.”

Droseran looked at the ridgeback with concern, then at Nicht and back. But they didn’t say anything, turning down to focus on their meal. Nicht just nodded along.

“You are one of us now, you understand, Nicht? You have an obligation to us. This is the Droseran Domain, our territory. You came here hungry, and now you are full. You came here pathetic, and now you have purpose. This is what there is to gain here. Your life can have meaning, through this Domain, through this faith. Do you understand?”

Nicht nodded.

Whatever she said, whatever she asked- who cared? Anything she wanted him to believe, he’d say he did. Who cared, if it gave him food and a place to sleep? The protection of a clan? A life?

He would be her right hand, her shadow, whatever he had to be.

He was going to live.

He would make sure of that.

“May I be in your service as much as I am in your debt, my lady.”

“It is an honour and a privilege to be a part of growing your congregation.” Cerise sat proudly in the little enclave, head held high even as she addressed someone so much smaller than her. Droseran stared up in wonder, while Mephistopheles fluttered about with frantic excitement. Cerise chuckled at his enthusiasm for the eggs they guarded, and for the prospect of getting to be a father.

“Do- um, I mean, it’s not my pla–” not their place to ask? Droseran stopped themself before saying it, knowing that such talk would confuse and concern Cerise to hear. They didn’t want to insult the ridgeback and her beliefs, even if how she talked about them was… uncomfortable, to say the least. It gave her a sense of purpose, so they wanted to be respectful. Even her determination to grow the ‘congregation’- it was natural for dragons to form clans, right? It was probably better for Mephistopheles if they had more friends and family around anyway. So, they opted to bite. “I- I was, aha, wondering if you’d thought about, uh, names?”

Cerise hummed. The thought was interrupted by the young Nicht gliding into the shallow burrow with a large glass beaker of water in claw, aboard a silver tray (supplies from Droseran’s lab, long since repurposed as servingware). The mated pair wanted to stay by the nest as much as possible, which seemed fair enough, so Cerise’s little assistant ran them food and drink.

Well, for Mephistopheles at least. He couldn’t carry enough to satisfy the ridgeback, so while she’d be able to rely on snacking for a time, she’d have to leave and find something more substantial now and then. For the time being, though, Mephistopheles dipped down and began drinking the water from the beaker still in Nicht's grasp like a hummingbird drinking from a held bouquet. It took Nicht aback for a moment, but he steadied his grasp so as not to interrupt his boss’s mate.
After he satisfied his thirst, Mephistopheles’ tiredness seemed all at once to set in. He had been in almost constant motion since Cerise had done the laying, so terribly was his joy. But even he could only go on for so long, so he waddled over to lie beside the three eggs, stretching his wings over them protectively. He pressed his face up to one, closing his eyes and just feeling the thrum of life within.

“We have not.” Cerise returned to the topic upon seeing her mate settled- Droseran almost jolted from her voice (which was not uncommon, to their ongoing embarrassment). “Have you decided on them?”

“Wh-What?” They didn't shriek. They could've, but they schooled themself. “Um, that- that would be, uh, I mean, like- that decision… rests on you!”

Cerise nodded, but her expression was unchanged.

“I understand if you would refuse me this privilege, but it would bless my hatchlings to bare a name you chose for them.”

Droseran slumped.

It would feel like an invasion for them to choose the names. The trio of eggs certainly weren’t theirs'- well, they would be their grandchildren, but still… Though, Cerise as the mother was the one making the invitation. Mephistopheles seemed unbothered as well (though he wouldn’t have been able to articulate a name for them himself regardless). If it was a genuine request, it would be ruder to refuse. In that case…

“Um… I supposed- I’ve always thought a nice sounding name was–”

“-Yvel? Oh, yes, look- eeh! Heeheehee!” Droseran couldn't help but squeal. “Yes, open those eyes, oh my gosh! Gosh, they’re all so LITTLE!”

Three little fae newhatches, pathetic and perfect, having peeled their way out of their eggs, squirmed weakly in the nest. Their claws had emerged from between the cotyledons and pulled back against them, peeling the leaves down into the bark til they splintered and hung like the stockings off a gum tree.

One had a bright pale blue body, that being Yvel. With dark brown body and green wings, Ebrejia. Finally, with a black little body and creamy wings like his father, was Anto. Each with bright green eyes.
Cerise looked down on the three hatchlings with such pride. Mephistopheles, with sheer jubilance. Droseran could scarcely keep themself from crying.

“They’re beautiful, Cerise. Just- so beautiful!”

Soon, Ebrejia was screaming and crying- nothing wrong, really, just normal newhatch complaints. Mephistopheles soothed, and things quietened down, at least for a time.

Inevitably though, there was a lot more noise around than there had previously been in the small clan’s territory from then on. The hatchlings would beg for food, stumble around and cry out for help, and need to be kept within eyesight at all times lest they get themselves into trouble.

Well, that was the case for two of them…

Yvel was a surprisingly easy newhatch. Staying put, eating happily, rarely throwing food back up. Smiling and giggling, but rarely crying. The same could not be said about Ebrejia and Anto. The former especially was a very loud, fussy baby. Nicht thought on occasion that, while most fae tended to speak with a monotonous voice, Ebrejia would boast great musical skill one day- so varied and creative were the sounds she seemed capable of making. It’d set Anto off to hear it, and then they’d both be going, but Yvel would just sit quietly and play with the straw dolls Mephistopheles fashioned without a care in the world.

“Yvel is different from the others.” Cerise said one day, as they all watched over the hatchlings- save for Nicht. Whenever there was time, she wanted it to be her family who looked after the little ones. Nicht could be left with busywork elsewhere. “Quiet; considered.”

“I- don’t think there’s anything wrong!” Droseran couldn’t help but be worried to hear Cerise say that. They’d been a constant mess of anxiety when Mephistopheles was young, and they didn’t want their daughter-in-law to suffer through the same thing. “With any of them- I, ok, I’m not uh, an expert! I don’t claim to be, but… I just, I think- I think they’re okay, probably. Uh…”

“No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong.” Cerise smiled and they relaxed a little. She watched the little ones fidget and squirm, offering a claw for them to teethe on. “There’s something different, but I do not think it’s anything bad.”

As they grew, each hatchling’s personality started to shine through. From as soon as she could speak, for example, Ebrejia did a lot of it.

“MUMMA! Lookie, lookie! Itssa SPIDER!” The spider was running up and down a long thin stick, the little brown dragon grabbing either end as it ran lower and was flipped again and again. At last, she crunched into it with one big, messy bite. “BWA! Haha, eat you, eat you!”

Anto winced when she did it. Splatters of spider guts flecked onto his face, and he started to sniffle and whine as she kept chewing.

“Huh? Whawhat?? Its wassa spider! Annnnntooo! Dun matter, dun matter!”

As Anto began to cry in earnest, his sister waddled over to curiously. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled them, like she was trying to find an off button for his tears, but it didn’t interrupt him at all.

It was all very noisy.

“Ebrejia!”

It was sharp. Not a yell, but loud enough to capture both the hatchlings’ attention. Cerise was going over the last few weeks of notes. She hadn’t yet had a chance to corroborate everything she had gotten from Droseran and her own theories. Hunting, fishing, gathering specimens Droseran showed interest in, perfecting their budding theology, and taking care of three rambunctious hatchlings was proving to be a lot. Nicht could take on some of her work, but not just anything.
The nocturne was only marginally larger than when he’d joined them, and still lacking when it came to the power to take down prey. He’d become a much better flyer, and could sneak up on prey just fine now- long gone were the days of stumbling over vines and snapping twigs. But sheer strength eluded him, and he wasn’t that fast either.

“If you two could control yourselves for two minutes… I am going to go get your father.”

Anto looked a little sorry, but Ebrejia went right back to pulling at his cheeks. No longer crying, this was now an annoyance, and he began fighting her off. Prying the pair apart from their bickering would be their father’s problem, though, at least if Cerise wanted to make any progress. So, off she flew.

Mephistopheles was ankle deep in the pond, statuesque with one claw raised, eyes tracking the fish below as he decided which to go for. They all swam off as Cerise’s shadow loomed and the displaced air from her landing shot ripples across the previously still surface. He wasn’t bothered by his interrupted fishing, though- he just looked happy to see her. It warmed Cerise’s heart to see her mate working hard just for her sake, her being the only seafood eater of the clan. He was so sweet, so loving.
Once landed she approached him, and he dipped out of the water to greet her, grinning.

“Yvel?” She asked simply.

Mephistopheles nodded to her by the water’s edge. The hatchling had a small pile of clover by her side, her claws meticulously working to knit a string of them together. Looking over at her parents, she smiled and bounced over. Crudely tying the last stems, she used her weak, untrained wings to juuust hop up high enough to place the crown over Mephistopheles’ head.

“Daddy pretty!” She was satisfied with her work, then. Mephistopheles beamed at her, taking her in his arms and swinging her around. She giggled happily, turning up to look at her mother. “Mummy, daddy pretty!”

“Yes, your father is very, very pretty. You did well, Yvel.”

“Yaaay!” Yvel clapped. “Mummy’s big, make one when I’m big, for big mummy!”

Cerise’s laugh was soft. It was real. Yvel made it so easy. She always seemed happy, off in a dream. Mephistopheles started looking around, and put her down. He gave Cerise a questioning glance.

“They’re back by the woods. Don’t worry, my dearest, I’ve only been gone a moment. I was hoping we might trade places for some time; we have enough food for now, so I was hoping to work some on my scriptures.”

Mephistopheles nodded, flying up to stroke her face and give her an understanding look. He knew she found it hard to focus around the other pair of hatchlings at times. They could make him weary too, as was the nature of parenting. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, flew down to give another to Yvel, and took off for his other hatchlings.

Cerise set up her scrolls and ink by the pond, and without even being told, Yvel got back to playing around on her own. She picked flowers, leaving the biggest and brightest by her mother’s side. When she found an interesting bug, she’d just watch it for a while before moving on to something else. Eventually, she just curled up into a little ball, her head resting gently on Cerise’s leg, and fell asleep.

It was mid afternoon when the parents first switched, and Cerise was able to write til the sun was set, and only faint purple and orange clouds gave her any light. She began packing up her supplies, knowing it would soon be time for the clan to gather.
Yvel awoke to the clatter of glass and shuffle of parchment, eyes fluttering open gently. It was such a precious sight. She was such a treasure. Cerise continued her pack up, and Yvel watched with quiet curiosity.

“Mummy?”

“Yes, my dearest little one?”

“What for?”

Cerise followed her eyes; she was looking at her mother’s writing materials.

“I write, my dear.”

“Write what?”

“What do I write? Well…” Cerise was all organised now. She held out her front claws, cupped them together, and Yvel crawled into them. The ridgeback crouched, then took off, flying to the gathering space by Droseran’s ship. “It might be a little complicated for you, right now. Though it is never too early to impart truth…”

When Cerise left it, Yvel didn’t press. Patient, she was. Patient! So young, but capable of patience.
Meanwhile, by the time Cerise arrived, even though there were still skerricks of light in the sky and the gathering strictly took place after sunset, Ebrejia was nagging her father to start serving up without everyone even present. Anto was squirming in his seat as well- Mephistopheles was stalwart in his refusal, even so. But Yvel didn’t have to be told at all. Cerise shot her other kids a glare, and they shut up, however reluctantly.

“Yvel has expressed an interest in coming to understand the deeper purpose lying at the heart of our clan. Perhaps it would do you two some good to learn it as well.” She set Yvel down right between her siblings. The blue hatchling made herself comfortable and, in doing so, brushed against Ebrejia, who hissed at her for it. “--EBREJIA! You will sit there and listen, and you will NOT be rude to your sister! No one is eating until we are finished here!”

Cerise stood before the gathered clan, and began to pace. Nicht gave Ebrejia a look, and while he wouldn’t step on the toes of those who fed him, she could still tell that he’d be glaring at her if he felt he could get away with it in front of her parents. She stuck her tongue out at him when Cerise wasn’t looking. Her father saw and gave her a warning glance.

Cerise spoke about Droseran and what they had told her. How they were something so different from an ordinary dragon, how they came from another realm entirely. About powers and the necessity of worship, how Droseran would protect the clan they grew in exchange, and how seriously this duty should be taken by all clan members. Yvel watched on with big shining eyes, amazed by every word. Cerise saw how she took it all in, and smiled.

This one, she thought. This one was perfect.

Every night, Cerise would speak on her theories. She would watch Yvel’s eyes fill with wonder, and it would spur her on even as her other children kicked rocks back and forth between them. She began working harder to keep them from interrupting- she would have all gathered hum, having Droseran offer them all a nightly blessing. They took to kneeling while Cerise would thank them for all the clan had (as an excuse not to meet her eyes as she did so). As a final piece of engagement, she would ask every dragon to tell the group something of value they had done that day.

“I acquired fresh ink for my lady to continue her scriptures.” Nicht spoke in his standard respectfully quiet monotone.

Mephistopheles motioned proudly to the large fish roasting over the fire. A fine catch, to be sure.

“I found- this!” Anto lured over the lillium floron with a piece of food but it snapped at him, growling. “A-Ahh!!”

“Ha!” Ebrejia laughed, yanking on the feline’s mane, drawing its attention away from her brother. “Heeere kitty kitty kitty~!”

“Ebrejia! Stop that, and pay attention! And Anto, don’t bring these creatures to dinner! They are untamed!” Cerise scolded. The floron seemed to realise it was unwelcome, and stalked off away from the group. Anto mewled after it, before looking down, ashamed. “Now, Ebrejia, I would ask that you tell me even one thing you did today for the good of the clan.”

“Uuuuugh…” The dark fae leaned back, clearly bored and hungry and looking for a way to be a pest. “Iiiiiiiiiii… DIDN’T do anything UNhelpful! That counts, right?”

Anto stifled a laugh, but Cerise just sighed.

“That is pathetic, Ebrejia. Your continued misbehaviour is pathetic.” That wiped the smile right off the hatchling’s face. She tucked her legs up, rested her head on her knees, and pouted up at her mother. “You cannot tell me even one thing of value you did today. I would say I am beyond disappointed, but in truth I am not even surprised. Yvel; please, say something your sister can aspire to.”

“Mmmm…” Yvel thought to herself. Ebrejia glared at her, but she didn’t even seem like she’d noticed the scolding the others had just received. Off in her own little world, like always. “Mummy, I had a dream about the other-place.”

The rest of the clan blinked at her.

“The what??” Ebrejia jeered. “That’s not what she asked you, stupid!”

“Ebrejia, quiet!” Cerise was tired of those words. She was beginning to feel a strain in the muscles of her neck from snapping to turn and deliver them, too. What an absolute pain. “Please, Yvel. Tell me what you mean.”

“Ummm…” She poked one claw up to her chin, chewing absently on it before she had her words together. “The other-place, where grandy Droseran is from… the spirit place. I saw a dream about it, it was so colourful.”

“...Is that so?” Cerise looked at her favourite daughter, consideringly. She pried her eyes away, giving the others gathered a cursory glance before turning back. “You’ll have to tell me more of this dream later, my dear little one. For now, let us eat.”

Ebrejia cheered, and everyone began to take from the food they had gathered. But all through the night, Cerise found her attention being drawn over to Yvel. Mephistopheles nudged her a few times, trying to direct her attention elsewhere, but she took little notice, always drifting right back to her.

It was a bright and beautiful day Cerise next spent looking after Yvel alone. She led her little daughter into the fields where the grass grew tall. It licked against their scales in the wind, Yvel easily lost in it without a keen eye tracking her. Cerise went slow so she could follow, the pair walking quietly together for a long while.

“Yvel, what kind of dreams do you have?”

The little fae thought about it, humming.

“I have dreams about lots of stuff!”

“Is that so? You said you had a dream about the other-place. Have you had any others like that before?”

“Mhm! I really like those ones, I can fly already there! And it’s always rainbows, and the other dragons look so funny.”

“That’s wonderful, my dearest. How do you feel, when you wake up from those dreams?”

“Happy! I like flying, I love the colours. I have friends there too, they’re nice.”

“Yvel, listen to me.” A look came over Cerise. Yvel didn’t understand it, it wasn’t something she’d seen before. But she could sense that there was something different, all of a sudden, in how her mother was looking at her. There was something… intense, in her eyes. Searching, even. “Do these dreams, in this other-place… do they feel real?”

Yvel couldn’t have known that Cerise was, at that moment, looking at her just the way she looked at Droseran.

“Mhm, they feel real when I dream them!”

Saying that, a smile crept over her mother’s face. Cerise took out her writing materials, and sat down before her.

“Tell me again about these dreams.”

Things were different from then.

Before, Cerise and Mephistopheles would juggle the three hatchlings between them. Sure, they had some babysitting help from Droseran and Nicht, but the parents largely took charge of the rearing. Cerise didn’t want to ask too much of her god, nor let her assistant into their family so intimately. It was the parents who would take them hunting or fishing or scavenging, show them how to live and act, splitting the responsibility for all three of them between the two. Sure, Cerise would request to watch over Yvel specifically when she was trying to work on the theology, but that was only now and then. Yes, Anto and Ebrejia were generally split apart from Yvel, but only because- if one hatchling was going to be relaxed and easy, why not give whichever parent was looking after her the chance to recharge while they did so?
Now, though, Cerise always wanted control of Yvel.

“We always knew she was different, darling, and now I know why. She is not one of us, Mephistopheles. She is like Droseran; she is a retix. Reborn amongst our kind!” Cerise paced and spoke with such fervour, such certainty. Mephistopheles was rattled, but she seemed so sure, she was taking it so seriously. “We have a duty to her. We can’t just treat her like any other hatchling. She has a life lost to her, can’t you see it behind her eyes? When she goes into that daze, when she’s somewhere else- you see it too, don’t you?”

While he couldn’t voice his thoughts verbally, Cerise knew well by now how to read Mephistopheles’ expression and body language. She could see that he was alarmed, that he was confused. She had to make him understand.

“Darling, she chose us. She chose us to guide her, in this world. Doesn’t it make sense? You were brought up by one of her own kind, she is amongst kin here in more ways than we knew. I can connect her with who she was. I will be able to find the right technique. You understand, don’t you? I have to do this for her.”

Mephistopheles didn’t understand, no. But he didn’t disagree, either. He’d have to understand better to do that, and all he knew was that his mate was distressed, and desperate for him to be on her side.

There were a lot of things in the world that Mephistopheles didn’t understand. But that didn’t mean he stood in the way of them, and he wasn’t going to do that now, either.

So every day, Yvel was left in Cerise’s sole care. Mephistopheles and Droseran took care of Ebrejia and Anto, while mother and her favoured daughter would walk deep into the woods, to where the sunlight barely infiltrated the closed canopy with the sparsest flecks. There, to where Cerise had once laid three eggs, and since continued to burrow.

Down through the tunnel, past the soft soil into tougher stone, further still away from the kiss of sunlight.

“Place your claws in the baquet, my dearest little one. Yes, like that.” Yvel did as her mother said. The water was warm. The whole chamber in the little cave system was. It was alight with candles, the fumes pooling in the high ceiling in a swirl, trickling out back up the entry to disperse in the open air. There was incense too, and steam from the water in the baquet. The air was thick with it all. “Now, move them back and forth, in a swirling motion. Yes- just like that. Continue like that. I will add the oil.”

The oil was derived with assistance from Droseran. They weren’t informed what it was to be used for, but seemed excited by Cerise’s sudden curiosity regarding something botanical. It had an acidic citric scent, though Cerise vaguely remembered their saying it came from some myrtle. It didn’t matter, so long as it floated atop the water just so.

“We will hum. Just like at the gatherings. Join in, Yvel.”

The sound resonated inside the chamber. Cerise had Nicht bring back sheets of metal to try and improve that quality, creating a slight echo. He found her glassware too, and told her how he’d seen a street performer create a ringing with them. He showed her how, and she put that skill into practice here, running her claw tips around the rims til they sung.

The scent, the smoke, the sound, the warmth- it all closed in around Yvel.

“Think hard on what you see in the patterns in the oil. Focus on the shapes, on the colours. The reflection of the flames. Lose yourself in the memory.”

Yvel would try. She would think about her dreams, and tell her mother what she remembered of them. Her senses overloaded, she would sometimes find herself speaking and not even being able to hear what words she was saying over the cacophony. She’d snap out of it and be hit with everything blaring at her at once, overloaded. She’d burst into tears, and collapsed on multiple occasions.

When that happened Cerise would douse the candles, still the noise. She would place a cloth over Yvel’s eyes, pick her up, and carry her up to the surface. She would find a spot with dappled light, and lay her down to recover. Her small frame would be overheated, her breathing heavy. Sometimes she’d cough and cough and cough. They’d rest there in silence, until Yvel could bring herself to ask for the cloth to be removed.

“You did well today, my dearest little one. We made so much progress. I am so proud of you.”

And Yvel would smile, however weakly, back up at her mother. Cerise would carry her home. She had to, really, since the little fae wasn’t learning to fly. There was no point in preparing her for physical tasks when she had such a higher calling, after all.
Mephistopheles would hurry to see her when the pair would return in the early evening, but Cerise would assure him she was fine.

She was, after all. She was doing great! Her mother told her so.

Most of the time Yvel didn’t react so badly, anyway She wouldn’t breath too heavily, or cry, or fall, or even have any words to say at all. Then, Cerise would ask her things. Questions about other retixs she might have known. About Great Wyrms, about the future. Yvel would get confused, but Cerise seemed so sure, and she would of course believe her mother. Tell her she was right, follow her prompts.

“We are so blessed here.” Cerise said at one gathering. She smiled so proud, looking right into Yvel’s eyes. “To have not one, but two great retixs in our midst. We are so blessed.”

What a blessed thing to be. She couldn’t fly now, but when she blossomed into the person she was before, she’d be able to do that and so much more. She’d have magic at her claw tips. She could help, she could have something to say she contributed to the clan.
She was going to be so important. She was going to help people. She just had to keep trying, every day, to connect to her past.

She would keep trying, yes. So she smiled back at her mother, full of hope, full of desperation to live up to everything her mother knew she would be.

…

(She couldn’t stop her claws from shaking.)

“Hey- Anto, Anto! Hey, help me out, bro!”

Anto had been hoping to get some training in with Xivorra, but it didn’t seem like that was in the cards. The floron had gotten a lot less aggressive with consistent effort, but he was still hoping to get it actually nice some day. Instead, he found himself letting it wander off as he craned his head up to see where his sister’s voice was coming from.

“Where are you, Ebrejia? I can’t see you– aaAAAH!”

“BOO!”

“HEY!” Anto darted back from where Ebrejia’s head suddenly popped down inches from his. “What was that for?!”

The forest was abuzz with summertime life. Cicadas sang, bees buzzed by. Shrubs and trees rustled in the soft breeze, and the leaf litter crunched damply underfoot. Ebrejia’s laugh joined in with the song of the forest, as normal a part of its melody by now as anything else.

“HA! Nothing, really. I really did want some help!” She gestured enthusiastically as she spoke. It was a trait she had picked up naturally from her father. She didn’t need to mime to be understood like he did, but she found herself gesturing for emphasis all the same without even thinking. “What, though, am I supposed to ignore a good opportunity when I see it?”

“Of course not.” Anto sighed, patting himself down and resettling. “You never do, no matter how many times mum asks you to.”

Ebrejia grimaced at that, and spat onto the ground from her perch. She wasn’t aiming for him, but he still hopped back, shooting her a look.

“Gross, sis.” She just rolled her eyes. He screwed up his face and sighed again. He didn’t mean to put her in a foul mood, it was just true. If she had a little bit more impulse control then maybe even just hearing someone mention their mum wouldn’t have her sulking. Better if he just moved the conversation along to distract her, at any rate. “What did you want help with?”

“Oh! Um, gimme a sec.” She snapped out of her bad mood quickly, bait taken. Reaching back up past the thick cluster of leaves hiding much of her body, she fetched a small cloth bag and began fussing around in it. Anto recognised it as being fashioned from a scrap of cloth Nicht had uncovered, tied up with some fraying rope their father had been slowly trying to make into fishing nets. Out from it she pulled- “Ta-da!”

“...Sis…”

It was a small but strong looking little branch, bifurcated into two sections, with a length of stretchy green fabric tied between the opposing lengths. She held it in one claw, and in the other was clutched a loose fistful of walnut shells.

“...A slingshot…?” Part of him wished he could hide his disparaging tone, but this could only spell bad news for them both. “Sis, c’mon, you’re gonna get us in SO much trouble…”

“Hey, this is important work we’re doing!” She dropped down from the tree just so she could stomp her little foot ineffectively on the forest floor. “Mum wants us to come to the stupid gathering every night and tell her one thing we did that was good for the clan.”

“And how…” He blinked at her like it might clear his vision and help him see that what he thought were walnut shells were actually delicious marshmallows or good luck potions or something that someone might actually appreciate having launched at them. “...Is this good for the clan…?”

“The best way possible!” She grinned, and started tossing one of the walnut shells (that were definitely still just walnut shells) up into the air and catching it again. “Listen, mum’s like, sooo convinced that grandy’s got some super special power, right?”

“...Right…?”

“So, it won’t hurt them at all to make them prove it, right??” Her grin widened further. Seeing Anto’s continued hesitance, though, she decided to take a different approach. “Hey, listen, alright? Mum’s aaall about this stuff, yeah? Not just with grandy, but Yvel too. But like, have you ever seen either of them actually DO anything???”

“Well, no.” She had a point there. Not enough of one for Anto to think it justified launching debris at high speeds, though.

“So we give them a little motivation to show us, simple as that! If the Great And Powerful Almighty Droseran doesn’t want to get hit by a stupid rock, they’re not gonna be!” She catches the walnut shell (not a rock, stupid or otherwise, Anto notes) one last time, then tosses it to him. It’s a bit of a scramble, but he just manages to catch it. He glares at her for surprising him yet again, but she just turns away to ignore it. “What’s a better thing to do for the clan than either go, hey, this dumb stuff was totally all legit! Ooor, alternatively, go, hey! Let’s stop wasting our time with this crap!!!”

It was a bad idea. That was obvious, at least to Anto, but so was the fact that talking Ebrejia out of a bad idea was like talking to a tree. She was as dense as any hardwood.

“...Couldn’t we just, like, scare them?” He could at least try to make it less bad. “Instead of throwing roc- shells. We’d probably get in less trouble! Grandy might not even tell mum, if we say we’re sorry.”

“Psh, scare them?” She was obviously not happy to have her plan challenged, but couldn’t help but be intrigued. “…How?”

“Like you just did to me, maybe??” It seemed like a silly question to him. “You’re brown and green, and we live in a forest, sis. You blend in pretty well, you could probably get the jump on them really easily.”

“Eh, I dunno… I don’t reckon just anyone’s nearly as jumpy as you…”

“Hey!” He swatted at her, and she cackled. “I’m trying to keep you out of trouble, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Fine, we’ll try it your way.”

“Thank you.”

So the siblings went to the little growing space Droseran used, set up with tables for samples but surrounded by herbs and shrubs and saplings growing semi-wild as well. There was a tibouchina growing there, flowering up a storm from recent rains. Droseran had spoken about it at the gathering, about using it to test materials for aerial cuttings. All very boring, Ebrejia had found, but they noticed the gauze wrapped sections on some of the branches, packed with peat or fibres or moss or whatever. Those plus the foliage and flowers gave the tree, though small, plenty of odd bits sticking off to distract from a hiding little fae like her; it was perfect.
She clambered up into it, as far into the density as she figured she needed to.

“How do I look? Or uh, how do I NOT look?”

“...What…?”

“Can you SEE ME, dummy!”

“Ugh, yes actually, I can! I can see your stupid tail sticking out!”

He gave it a sharp tug for good measure and she bit back a yelp, snatching it up into her claws protectively. She pulled it around herself tightly, away from his claws and out of sight.

“Howsabout now, jerk???”

“Better. Provided you can shut up, no one’s gonna notice you there.”

“Perfect!” She made herself comfortable in place, perfecting her footing to keep her stable with minimal ongoing exertion. “Now, go get grandy, wouldya?”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you about all this, though, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, just go grab ‘em!”

Her brother begrudgingly flew off. Hopefully he wouldn’t take too long. She knew that he’d be able to come up with a good excuse for why they had to head this way, he was reliable like that. Then, all they had to do was spook Droseran and they'd fail to react with any incredible magic, and bam! Ebrejia could prove once and for all that their mother’s fairytales were bunk.
Then, maybe- just maybe- she’d stop fawning over Yvel for 5 minutes.

She shook her head. Better not to think about that just yet, get over excited, and blow her cover. This was gonna be so funny, though. Honestly, sometimes she reeeally wished she had an audience- this would be SUCH a crowd-pleaser. Despite her earlier teasing of Anto, she knew well just how jumpy Droseran was. They were probably gonna shriek into next week!

“Haha, yeah, this’ll be gre- eeEEEEEEK!” Something sharp grabbed once more at a section of her tail twisted behind her back. She attempted to shoot out of the tree at high speeds, but in reality only succeeded in smacking her head into a branch and falling like a dead weight onto the ground below. “--OOOOOOW! Man, what gives?!”

Ebrejia looked back up into the tree she’d just been sitting in, and a pair of familiar eyes looked back at her.

“...Daaaad! That wasn’t funny!”

But the older grey fae flew down still chuckling. He held out a claw to help her up, and she reluctantly accepted it.

“What was that for??”

Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow at her in a way that made it pretty obvious that he at least had a strong inkling of what she’d been meaning to get up to from in that tree. He looked down by her side and up again, and she realised her slingshot was poking out of its bag.

“Urgh- I wasn’t even gonna use that! It’s for knocking down fruit from high branches.” That was a dumb lie. She and her brother had really been getting used to flying, and their dad had been the one teaching them, so he’d know that. “I really wasn’t gonna use it!”

Her father rolled his eyes. She steeled herself for the inevitable scolding that he’d manage, as he so often did, to give solely with expressions and gestures. She wished she couldn’t understand it, but she always did. However, they were both taken out of the moment by her stomach suddenly growling.

“Yeesh, I didn’t even realise how hungry I was, too excited-” she noticed the look he gave her, and attempted a save, “-tooo help grandy with their projects, that is!”

He was unconvinced, but only shook his head. He went over to the tree again, and motioned her to follow. Then, he started tapping on a branch with one of his claws.

“This again?” She hated this style of hunting. Listening out for hollow spaces in branches to find bugs inside- it was boring. She liked to run and fly and chase things down. She knew he did too, and he was good at it, so why he’d been trying to teach her this she had no clue. Maybe so she could still hunt when she was old and creaky? But that seemed like jumping the gun a bit, considering she was barely a fledgling. Still, he wasn’t scolding her, so she’d take it. She started tapping along on another segment, and he stopped so she could listen more closely. “Ugh, I really can’t tell-”

He motioned her to not speak, and she groaned. Then, he motioned her to slow her movements, demonstrating himself;

Not taptaptap.

But tap. Tap. Tap.

At first she didn’t get it, but when she tried it herself, after a few goes on different spots, she made out the different sound.

“Oh!” They both smiled at each other, Ebrejia as excited to have gotten somewhere as he was to see her get there. “Oh, I think I found something!”

He shuffled over to the branch she was using, and began feeling his way around. She kept tapping occasionally, trying to memorise the quality of the hollow wood sound. Then he clicked to draw her attention, and she came to look. There was a split in the wood stuffed with frass. He encouraged her to dive in, and when she did, her claws came out with a big juicy grub skewered on them.

“YES!” She grinned- she didn’t expect to get so excited about this, but man, he had tried to show her how to do this a lot. There was something magical about it finally actually working. “Can I eat it??”

Such a fond expression came over Mephistopheles’ face. He plucked the armoured head off the grub and flicked it away, but gestured for her to eat the rest. She crunched it up with great speed. She’d always liked grubs, but the sheer satisfaction wrapped up in this one made it taste absolutely heavenly.

“Yknow,” she said, after they’d sat in that moment for a while, “I really WASN’T going to use the slingshot. I mean, I was gonna, at first. Anto talked me out of it, though.”

Mephistopheles shook with another silent chuckle. He evidently wasn’t surprised.

“It’s just- mum doesn’t even talk to me anymore, y’know??” With that, his expression turned sad. “She only wants anything to do with Yvel. It’s Yvel, Yvel, Yvel. You’re special Yvel, you’re so good, Yvel! I’m like, what am I, chopped liver?”

Mephistopheles gave her a comforting pat, but she was still down. She couldn’t help it. It’s not like he didn’t see it, right?

“She talks to me, like, at the gathering. And that’s it! Just asks me what I’ve done for the clan. There’s only six of us- at this point, doing stuff that makes me happy is doing stuff for a pretty big percentage of the clan! Besides, I’m a great hunter, and getting to be a good flyer. Yvel can’t even fly! She’s so stupid, but mum just loooves her, cause she’s too dumb to notice how silly the stuff mum says is!”

Ebrejia knew her father was probably giving her a disapproving look. He wouldn’t want to hear her bad-talk her sister like that, or the things Cerise tried to impart to them. But she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wanted to at least pretend someone was on her side.

“I just thought, y’know, if grandy could just… prove her wrong. Then MAYBE we could put all this stuff aside and be, like, a normal family.”

Mephistopheles lifted her head and made her meet his eyes. His expression was more understanding than she’d thought it might be, but not untroubled.

Things are what they are, kid.

That’s what Ebrejia felt like he meant, at least. She reckoned it was true, too, but she didn’t love it. Why couldn’t things just not be the way they were?? Wouldn’t that be better??? It would be for her, at least. She couldn’t help but think of things with herself at the centre, she was just a fresh fledgling. She kinda knew, sometimes, when she was being immature, but she still couldn’t stop. It was like knowing the colour of her scales- it didn’t allow her to slough them off.

Mephistopheles gave her one last good squeeze on the shoulder, and slipped down from the tree. He nodded at her, and flew off. Guess he trusted her not to cause any trouble, after that. It was mere moments after he left, though, that Anto came back with Droseran in tow. He looked up into the tree and nodded, even though he clearly couldn’t actually see her.

“Uhm, Anto, I… I don’t see- there aren’t any fungus gnats– I mean, I think–!”

BONK.

“Ouch!”

Droseran took a step back, rubbing their forehead.

“Sis, c’mon, you said you wouldn’t use the slingshot!”

“What the- Ebrejia, is that you??”

Of course it was.

After all, it was too good an opportunity.

Ebrejia was a prankster, and it’d be a shame to let a good chance go to waste. They didn’t always crop up, and they could be so hilarious when they did. So funny to watch someone who didn’t expect it get the short end of the stick. And Droseran didn’t deflect it either! Normal dragon theory 1, weird spirit thingy theory 0! Yes, a good oppurtunity.

A good opportunity to get in trouble when Cerise came back for the gathering, and Nicht- stupid Nicht, always watching, Nicht the snitch- clued her into what had happened. A good opportunity to argue about what Cerise believed and what Ebrejia didn’t. A good opportunity to be scolded, be assigned more chores.

Still, it was the only kind of attention her mother ever gave her anymore. It was better than nothing. She wouldn’t waste the opportunity to get it, even when her dad and grandparent looked so disappointed in her too. Her dad especially, after he’d thought they’d reached an understanding that this behaviour wasn’t helping anyone.

As far as Ebrejia was concerned, if they didn’t like it, they could damn well talk to Cerise about it. But they didn’t! No matter how much they said they loved Ebrejia, they weren’t gonna stand up for her. They could be disappointed in her, then, cause she was disappointed in them too.

Cerise threw her slingshot into the fire, but she could make another. Or a pit trap with mud in the bottom, or a rope trap, or- anything. She’d always find new ways to give them trouble, she was creative like that.

If she couldn’t be her mother’s beloved daughter, she’d at least be the best damn pest she could.

Anto sat and got scolded beside Ebrejia for the thousandth time. Even though he’d told her not to use her slingshot, even though he’d told her not to do anything at all, Nicht saw them both. That was enough to land him in trouble too, yet again.

He was a cautious hatchling. He was generally quiet, though he’d rise to the occasion with Ebrejia. He didn’t speak out of term at gatherings. He wasn’t rude to Yvel. He didn’t know what he thought about retixs and magic and religion, believing or non believing, but he wasn’t obstinate about it.

Didn’t feel like anyone saw that, though. Didn’t feel like anyone really saw him at all, actually.

He went along with Ebrejia’s tricks and schemes, sure. But he never came up with them. He tried to get her to abandon her plans, but she would refuse. Wasn’t it better that he at least try to make them less destructive? He couldn’t do that if he didn’t get involved at all.

He could tell why she was really doing it. That she did it to get scolded, that it was a goal rather than a consequence. She wanted love from their mother, and if she couldn’t get it, she’d take whatever else was on offer.

It wasn't at all how Anto felt, but he understood it. He knew her like the back of his hand. Ebrejia was foolhardy, she reckoned she could get away with whatever, so what were the real consequences of getting scolded aside from having Cerise’s full attention?

It wasn’t enough to make Anto want to get in trouble, personally. But then, maybe that’s why, out of the three of them, he felt like he always faded into the background so much more. Part of him wondered; if he disappeared for a week, would anyone even notice?

He’d kick himself when he had that thought. Of course someone would! Ebrejia would, for sure. She didn’t always say thank you when he helped her out, and there were definitely some times she didn’t notice it at all, but they were still best friends. His dad would notice too, for sure.

For sure.

…

Right?

Anto didn’t like being ignored when he was younger, but by now he was used to it. It didn’t make him happy by any means, but he preferred it to being actively in trouble. Being in trouble was scary.

…His mother scared him.

He hated that. It made him feel ashamed to admit it. Like there was something wrong with him for feeling that way about someone he was ostensibly supposed to have an uncomplicated love for. But it was what it was, and it was hard not to acknowledge it as he got older.

And once he had? It… was almost a relief. He didn’t need to fight to try and earn her respect, her love. He wished he could take that weight off Ebrejia’s shoulders too, but he knew he couldn’t. There was no talking her out of how she felt, it was too deeply rooted within her. He didn’t have the words to do it. He just hoped, if Cerise didn’t turn around and become the loving mother she wanted, Ebrejia at least eventually came to the same conclusion he had.

They didn’t need her affection. They were a team. They’d always stuck together, and they always would. So long as they had each other, they had all they needed. Deep down, he was sure she already knew it too.

After a life spent in the colds of the Southern Icefield, even having grown up as happy as he did, Medarel was excited to see the world beyond the bounds of winter. Surely there were so many clans outside the Frozen Sanctum and its surrounding territory, and he wanted to meet them…

The Starfall Isles were gorgeous. There was so much to learn from the arcane dragons who called it home, and part of Medarel considered settling down there after he was finished with his trip. Maybe seek a higher education, bring his skills home with him again when he started missing the snow.

The Windswept Plateau was of great interest to him as a skydancer. He’d always been interested in visiting his ancestral home, it was actually the first place that had gotten him thinking about travelling. He’d thought about picking up a souvenir there to send to his mother. She served the Icewarden now, though, so Wind Flight paraphernalia might not go down smoothly.

He’d visited the Pillar of The World, paying his respects to the Earthshaker and the structure itself. He’d stayed in the Colonnades of Antiquity briefly, and seen an excellent play there. He hadn’t intended to go any further on his first foray past his flight’s bounds, but one of the other young dragons he’d shared accommodations with there had just been to the Everbloom Gardens and swore that it was a place everyone had to see at least once in their lifetimes.

That was a good enough review for him, so it was off to the Viridian Labyrinth.

His funds were running low, though, so he decided to camp out just beyond the Gardens themselves, crowded with so many clans as they were. After a long day of sightseeing, when the sun started to crest lower on the horizon, he began looking for a good site. It wouldn’t do to wait until it got much later, when the glare of the sunset would obscure his vision. So, leaving early enough, it was only a short flight out that he found a nice clearing with level ground and decided it looked good to him.
He forayed briefly into the forest and collected four long, sturdy branches. Taking these with him back into the clearing, he thrust them into the ground and hammered them in deeper with a stray stone. It didn’t look like rain, and it wasn’t exactly chilly in the Labyrinth- certainly not for he who was so used to the ice and snow- but it felt like it would be easier to rest with some cover. He laid a quilt from his pack over the branches, and decided to call it a night.

As it turned out, however, he was not as alone in the clearing as he’d thought he was.

“What is this?” He heard it from outside, as a shadow cast over his nest for the night. “Who are you, to be here on our grounds?”

The booming voice had Medarel unfurling himself hastily, pulling up the quilt to duck out and present himself to the local dragon. While he was more taken off guard than actually scared, he found himself light on his feet, his wings positioned to raise him up and away at a moment’s notice if worse came to worst.

Before him, a ridgeback’s wings were raising and lowering in the final stage of slowing her descent. In another moment she had landed and taken a shuddering step towards him.

“Is this your clan’s territory? My apologies for intruding.” He met her eyes as she slowed. “My name is Medarel. I’m a traveller from the Southern Icefields. I intended to make camp here.”

“Is that so?” She became alive with motion again, making her way into a slow, almost slithering path around him. “Visiting the gardens, were you?”

“Yes, mam. I'm not here to make any trouble, honest. This place is... beautiful.”

She gazed down at him with some interest. He noted the blue in her eyes- not a Nature dragon herself, then, but Water flight. That didn’t mean this place wasn’t her home, of course.
He’d run into several other Ice dragons along his travels and greeted them as distant kin. He’d been embraced in turn at times, but then on a few occasions rebuffed. It was a little embarrassing for him, but for dragons that left their elemental homeland so young, he supposed it only made sense that they saw little relation through their shared element. Perhaps, as with those Ice dragons, this ridgeback was a Nature dragon at heart.

As he mused, she appeared to finish her assessment of him. She must have decided his words were truthful, as she went on;

“...We gather for dinner at sunset. You are welcome to eat with us, as our guest.” The sun was right at the position he’d avoided flying alongside earlier. Brilliant shouts of purple and orange cast from the western sky and dimmed to a milky lavender overhead. The ridgeback turned, and appeared to judge by the light that it must be time to join her clan. “Medarel; I am Cerise.”

The young skydancer nodded and smiled at her hospitality, though her head was turned, and he followed as she strode up the gentle incline of the clearing.

The ragtag little group that gathered around the fire looked up when Cerise approached, but appeared to doubletake at the sight of Medarel. He felt almost flustered by the attention, even tempted to do a once over to check he didn’t have some embarrassing stain on his feathers.

“Hello, Nature flight friends. My name is Medarel, I hail from the Ice flight. I’ve been invited to eat with you tonight. I hope it’s no bother.” Despite the surprise on the faces staring back at him, he tried to keep up a relaxed and friendly demeanour. If they didn’t have visitors very often, so he wanted to put them at ease.

One of the dragons from among the group of fae that made up most of the circle rose up suddenly. The others looked at her as she quickly made her way over to Medarel.

“What’s Yvel doing?”

“I don’t know-?”

The fae who stopped so close to him was not dissimilar in colour to himself. Her eyes were very different though, large and round and brilliantly green. Medarel found himself at a loss for words as she gazed at him with an unreadable expression.
She raised her claws and held them out. Without being told, he recognised the gesture as an invitation. Despite not really knowing her intentions, there wasn’t any part of him that felt she was attempting to do him harm. He raised his own claws and placed them over hers, so small and warm.

She ducked her head in close. He felt his heart skip a beat, but she leaned in over his shoulder, and began to speak softly- almost whispering.

“We extend a blessing to our guest, and ask that he is Seen in his time here. We ask that he is gifted safety and good fortune. Spirits see us.”

Her hands drifted out of his as she moved a pace back. Blinking up at him as she raised her head, her expression transformed into a meek but sincere smile.

Oh, wow.

“Thank you, Yvel, for showing our visitor such kindness.” Cerise’s words snapped Medarel out of the daze he’d felt himself fall into. For a moment, it had been as though only he and this Yvel were present at all- at least to him. But now, Cerise was making room for herself by the fire, and as she addressed him, Yvel moved quickly to sit by her side. “She is my daughter, and a great joy to us all. We usually precede our meal with a small ceremony, but we shall take this blessing at the night’s due, so that you may enjoy the food we offer.”

“Wait, what? Seriously?” Another of the fae, this one brown and green, blinked in shock. She recovered quickly though, rubbing her hands together eagerly. “Well- sweet! Honestly I’m staaarved, let’s eat already!”

“Ebrejia, we have a guest. Do not embarrass us.” Cerise barely spared a glance to the fae she spoke to. For her part, Ebrejia’s face twisted into one of disdain, but she bit her tongue and busied herself reaching for one of the clay pots set around the fire. Removing the lid, she plucked some insects from inside, skewering them on a thin branch, and began to roast them before passing the pot off to another. “Medarel, would you tell us of your travels?”

And so he did. With such a small clan, he figured that perhaps the reason he was so welcome to stay was because of his novelty. In a way, then, he might have been paying for his stay with his story, and that was fine by him. He was no great dramatist, but he had no trouble with speaking before a crowd.

As he recounted his trip, he couldn’t help but pay particular attention to Yvel. Those big eyes of hers shone with such interest. She leant in further to listen, and even had to be nudged to remember not to burn her dinner, so engrossed she was.
Medarel knew that, in reality, he wasn’t exactly a well-seasoned traveller just yet. But that just made her level of engagement even more charming to him. He couldn’t help but play into things she seemed most amazed by. He described the crystal arches of the Starfall Isles in greater detail than he’d have thought he ever could have, just to hear the soft sigh of wonder she let out for a second time. When she laughed, he almost laughed along with her, though none of it was new to him.

“Kites? Really, they live on kites? Do they move all around the Plateau?”

“No, no, they’re secured to the ground below through long, sturdy ropes. I’m sure they’d be able to keep them in place with magic, at any rate.”

“Amazing…”

Her breathless awe again made all the other dragons present fall away in his mind. He was so caught up in telling his story that he didn’t even notice as the pots were all emptied, other dragons stretched out in tiredness, and the fire died down to just a few smouldering embers.

“It has been a pleasure to hear your story.” At Cerise’s words, it registered to him all at once just how tired he was. A long day of sightseeing followed by a late night caught up with him at last. “I hope you will stay with us again tomorrow, so we may hear more.”

Medarel smiled and nodded at the ridgeback, and the clan rose to make their way back to their lairs. The nocturne flitted off so quickly he barely noticed him, off towards the treeline. The fae drifted one after another into the odd round structure that rested not far from the gathering site.
Yvel glanced back at him as she went to duck inside, and smiled to meet his eye. He returned the expression and waved. It seemed someone was calling her in, though, as she looked away suddenly, before quickly crossing the threshold and closing the hatch behind her.

Cerise nodded at him before following after the fae, curling up around the structure protectively like it was one large egg for her to guard.

Having been caught up in the moment, on the way back to his little tent he could guess in retrospect that he hadn’t been very subtle. He’d been charmed by Yvel, more than he was used to being by pretty strangers he met along his path.
He didn’t want to be taken for some roaming philanderer whose real reason for travelling was to break as many hearts as he could along the way, but he’d only intended to stay one night. Perhaps, then, he just had to change his plans...

Medarel got himself into a little routine. He spent his days looking around the Everbloom Gardens and sightseeing other areas of the Viridian Labyrinth nearby. Then he’d return to the Droseran Domain before sunset and the subsequent gathering, where he’d tell them of his escapades that day.

It didn’t take him terribly long to feel like he’d well and truly satisfied his desire to explore the Nature flight’s territory. It was beautiful, of course, but his style of travelling was one where the culture of built up centres held his interest most. He loved museums, markets, monuments; while Nature’s beauty was… natural. There was culture to behold, but much of it was closed off to all but the dragons who practiced it. It was tourism geared towards hiking and bird watching, and while he liked such things well enough, he felt like he’d done plenty by now. It’d been weeks.

So, time to move on then, he thought. Only he couldn’t bring himself to. A part of him worried that he didn’t have anything else of interest to tell the clan of the Droseran Domain at the gatherings, but Yvel’s interest never seemed to wane.
She was often at the gatherings before him, but sometimes she and Cerise returned late. Sometimes Yvel looked absolutely exhausted when she arrived, but she still looked a little bit brighter upon seeing him there. It pulled at his heart strings something fierce.

With nothing of interest to him left to explore, he decided one morning not to bother leaving the Domain’s bounds that day. He stayed curled up, and eventually poked his head out when he heard the stomp of Cerise leaving into the far end of the forest, Yvel presumably in tow.
After watching them leave, he didn’t really know what to do with himself. If he wasn’t going to pay his way with a story, he figured he might as well try to provide for his hosts with some dinner.
To that end Medarel began tracing the path of the forest’s edge, before dipping in to find something to hunt. He found what he believed was probably a termite’s nest up in the canopy of a large tree and flew up to investigate further. What would be the best way of doing this… should he double back to grab one of those clay pots they used? Or if he somehow dislodged the nest as a whole, could he keep the termites contained? Would the nest just crumble in his claws?

“Hey, Bluey, what’re you still doing here?” He was taken out of his musing by a voice ringing out from the canopy of one of the other nearby trees. “Don’t you have, I dunno, some topiary to go gawk at or somethin’?”

“Hello, Ebrejia.” It took a searching moment to find her, perched as she was on a solid looking branch, returning his gaze with some scrutiny. “Honestly, I feel like I’ve seen enough well sculpted hedging for now. I was hoping to bring something else to dinner tonight.”

“Pfft, what do I care? It’s not me you’re telling those stories to, anyway.” Medarel felt his face get slightly warmer. “Mum might think it’ll be enough for us to hear this stuff secondhand, but I could care less about being your travel diary unless I can go out and see stuff for myself.”

Despite her at times abrasive personality, Medarel didn’t have a problem with Ebrejia. She didn’t seem particularly close to her sister, as opposed to how she was with Anto (who he was half expecting to notice on another branch any time now). But she was still family to someone he had come to really like, so it seemed right to treat her cordially.

“You have an interest in travelling?”

“I have an interest in not being here, yeah.” She looked him up and down, curiously. “Speaking of, if you’re done freeloading off us for a place to sleep, you buzzing off back down to your frozen hometown then?”

Medarel chuckled and went to speak, but found he wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. He’d thoroughly seen the Everbloom Gardens, seen the Behemoth up close, even breezed by the Wild Sanctum. What more did he want to do? Wasn’t it, indeed, time for him to head off homewards?

“I… I’m not really sure.” He admitted. “I wasn’t planning to come to the Labyrinth at all, initially. But now, I suppose the hospitality I’ve received here has me lingering.”

“The ‘hospitality’, huh?” She smirked for a moment, but a thought appeared to strike her. It caused her expression to darken considerably into what almost looked like a glare, but… not angry so much as just… something he couldn’t place. “Listen, I’m not daft, boy. You think my stupid sister’s cute or whatever, right?”

“I haven’t done much to hide my interest, have I?” There seemed little point in rebuking her insulting of Yvel. Family was like that, and Ebrejia had a teasing personality- it wasn’t his place to scold her, she seemed to get enough of that from her mother.

“Nope.”

Despite Medarel’s own light and joking tone, Ebrejia continued to look unusually serious. She fluttered over his way, swinging between the branches of his tree with the ease of a monkey. It struck him as a very Nature flight skill to have, and he wondered if Yvel was capable of the same.

“And it’s not smart of you, neither.” She went on. “Look, mum’s been letting you give your little spiels every night at the gathering, but we didn’t sit around playing clap-games before you were here. You don’t know anything about what our clan’s about, and you don’t know my sister well enough for it to be worth the trouble of staying long enough that you figure that out.”

“...Is that a threat?” Her words surprised him. Was she being protective of her sister? Or of her clan’s territory itself?

“No, jackwheat. It’s a warning.”

Without a moment’s notice, she retracted each claw from the branches and let herself fall through the canopy down to the ground. He jolted to track the movement, instinct telling him to fly down and catch her, only to find his wings blocked by the surrounding wood. She caught herself comfortably at the last minute anyway, this manoeuvre not seeming unfamiliar to her at all, despite how it had looked to him at first. She looked back up on him with the same expression she’d been wearing, unaffected.

“Guess you’ll only appreciate it if you’re dumb enough to ignore it, though.”

She took off into the shrubbery, and left Medarel alone with his thoughts.

He was under no illusion that he really knew Yvel on a deeper level, nor how she felt about him. It was entirely possible she would respond with glee to any newcomer, and just found him to be good entertainment. It hurt a little to think like that but he knew realistically that it could well be true. If he felt this pull to stay, then he had better get a clear idea of where that feeling came from.

And to do that, he had to talk to Cerise.

…Well, he had to talk to Yvel. But for a chance to do that privately, he got the idea that he’d probably better go through her.

Cerise spent most days, this day included, away from the clan’s central territory with Yvel by her side. He’d heard she left alone some days, be it to hunt or conduct external trade- presumably that had been the case on the day he’d arrived, but as far as he knew it hadn’t happened since.
Regardless, when the pair returned, Cerise always landed in the same space. It was a big open patch with low glass by the pond, right where Medarel had initially set up camp. In retrospect, he should’ve known by the patches of dead grass that this was a spot commonly occupied by a large dragon.

He skirted the edge of that space after the sun started to dip. As he expected, Cerise’s silhouette eventually became clear on the horizon, and not long after he was squinting his eyes and digging his claws in to keep from being blown away. She took note of him quickly.

“You are back early.”

“As are you, Cerise!” He grinned up at her, straightening himself out. “Though no, actually- I didn’t leave the Domain today.”

“No?”

“No.” He thought for a moment how to approach the topic. If he admitted outright that he had no further interest in tourism here, would she be eager to push him out the door, so to speak? He had been freeloading for quite a time now. Better to err on the side of caution. “I’ve been enjoying your hospitality for too long without returning the favour! So I decided to try and contribute to our meal tonight.”

At his request, Anto did indeed point him to where he could collect one of those clay pots. He kept getting bits of nest in with the termites so ended up washing those out and looking elsewhere. He’d managed to find some centipedes, some small chalky coloured spiders, and a treasure trove of ants and aphids on an infested forb. The pot wasn’t full but he was still proud of his efforts, unfamiliar as hunting in the territory was. He held it out to her now.

Cerise took the pot and didn’t open it, but smelled it and gave it a light shake.

“You are very considerate, Medarel.” The skydancer’s eyes focused in on a movement, as Yvel peered around from her place on her mother’s back to gaze at him. He wanted to greet her, but figured it would be a bad showing to do so before asking what he intended to. “Let us head to the gathering and partake of this.”

“Before we do-” he walked in front of her, and hoped it didn’t seem rude. “I was hoping I could make a request of you? I know I am your guest, so I hope this is not too much to ask."

“Speak.” Cerise did not seem offended in the least by his getting in her way. It probably helped that she could step over him without any trouble at all.

“Well, I must admit I feel a little shy in asking…” He had thought over how to phrase his request, but in the moment all plans seemed to escape him. Best to just be honest. “I won’t attempt to pull the wool over your eyes; I find myself very taken with your daughter. Yvel, that is.”

He doubted there would be any confusion over who he meant, really. Cerise certainly didn’t seem surprised, though she never was very reactive.

“What are you asking for exactly?”

“Only to have some time with her. I- I do not know, Yvel, how you feel…” He couldn’t help but address her when his eyes inevitably drifted to meet hers. Her expression was hard to read. She almost seemed at risk of slipping off her mothers back for how far she was leaning forward, though, so hopefully that was a good sign. Regardless, he steered his attention back to her mother. “I would like to spend some days with her. I know you two go out together most mornings. I have never wanted to pry into what exactly you are doing, so I suppose I don’t know if it’s some duty that really requires daily attention…”

Yvel did start to slip then, but before he could move, Cerise had her cupped in one claw and was gently placing her down on the ground.

“You wish for time to court my daughter?”

“Yes, mam.” He swallowed, but tried not to show any anxiety over her answer. Cerise seemed like a strong, certain dragon. He figured she would respect his conviction more than anything else, and from respect he could gain trust.

“I accept this.” At her words, Medarel let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Every third day, you may meet with her in the meadow. I will escort her in the morning, and come for the both of you before it is time for the gathering.”

“Thank you, Cerise.” He looked at Yvel openly now. She was smiling, but looking between him and her mother. She seemed a little nervous. Well, whatever she was feeling- it seemed he would now have the time to ask her. That would be enough, for now.

The three headed to the gathering together. Medarel was in a glowing mood, but was slightly disconcerted by Ebrejia’s expression. Medarel sat between Ebrejia and Nicht as had become his habit, so he leant in to whisper to her

“Is something wrong?”

She looked back at him with some annoyance.

“You didn’t do anything today, Bluey. So you don’t got a story, and I reckon mum knows that since you arrived with her.”

“I thought you said you weren’t terribly interested in my stories?” He gave her a wry smile. “Changed your mind?”

“No, stupid.” She outright glared at him, now. “But if you’re not gonna be droning on, that means it’s back to business as usual. It’s been so long that it’ll probably be a long one, too…”

Medarel didn’t know what she was talking about, and he made no secret of it, but she just rolled her eyes. Anto, party to their conversation, gave him a sympathetic look. He didn’t look too happy about it either, but Medarel couldn’t be sure how much of that was for his sister’s sake.

Yvel took her seat at usual, but Cerise did not. Rather, she stood before the fire and looked over the dragons of her clan and their visitor.

“Medarel, it is my pleasure to invite you tonight not just to dinner with my clan, but to our ceremony.”

He was intrigued, but it didn’t take a genius to put together that this was what Ebrejia was in a foul mood over. Still, he sat forth, intent to show the clan leader respect and listen closely to her words.

What he had expected was praise for the Gladekeeper; thanks for the bounty of Nature which surrounded the Domain’s territory, remembrance and well wishes for any exalted kin, perhaps some wishes for a coming harvest.
What he got was… not that.
The Gladekeeper’s name did not come up once. Rather, Cerise spoke of Droseran, one of the other fae sat around the fire with them. As far as Medarel had seen, they were a perfectly normal dragon. But Cerise called them something else entirely.

“...Through the practice of ritual, we ingrain ourselves into a higher consciousness. We carve Droseran’s name, and our’s in turn, into a plane from which we will not fade. We will not falter, time will not rot us away. To be Seen is to be blessed with an eternity, and with power. This power can protect us, this power can sustain us. Let us, then, sing out in ritual, so we may be strong.”

The dragons around Medarel closed their eyes and began to hum. Even Ebrejia at least appeared to do as she was told. For his part, Medarel couldn’t help but glance around to try and understand. He noticed Cerise watching him, and in meeting her eyes, she smiled and nodded once. At that, he opted to join the others. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and tried best he could to partake in their humming song.

The ceremony went on. He wasn’t sure how long exactly, but there was certainly no sign of sunset by the end. The stars twinkled brilliantly in the blue-black sky overhead, but with some stoking, the fire still burned strong.

They ate in relative silence. Medarel didn’t mind the time to soak it all in. He didn’t really know how to feel, but fundamentally, he felt it his place merely to treat the Domain’s ways with respect.

If he had a real chance with Yvel, he wouldn’t blow it.

Medarel and Yvel met in that meadow for the first time, and the sun shone brightly down on both of them. It was a windy day, the loud sort you had to speak up over. It was hard for Yvel, who was soft spoken by nature. But Medarel was patient. He would extend his wings on either side of her to give them some cover.

“So, what takes you from the Domain each day? What are you and your mother off doing?”

She went quiet at that, looking almost frozen. Then she just shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

“That- it, that…. I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it.” Her wide staring eyes met his again, and at his troubled expression turned big and sparkly. “Oh- I’m sorry… its not you, it isn’t… I just don’t think- we don’t talk about it in the clan either.”

From the things they spoke about, Medarel came to understood Yvel as being under her mother’s tutelage to perform some sort of priestess role. It didn’t seem odd, then, for there to be initiation rites or rituals that were not to be spoken about. But something about the way she acted was off.
Not just in discussing what her daily duties with Cerise were, either. She seemed all at once pleased to be there with him, but also on edge; he kept looking over at her only to see her eyes on the horizon, as if she was waiting for someone to come take her away.

“You must be very devoted to it, whatever it is.”

“Um… yes…” She sounded unsure, looking up into space as if she’d find a script there.

“But you get days off from time to time, right?” Returning her gaze to him slowly, she nodded after a moment. “How do you tend to spend that time?”

“Um…” And she was right back to looking away to find her answer again. For a moment, he saw an expression flit across her face- a troubled one. But she looked down and seemed to blink it away. “Like… I sleep in a bit. I usually wake up early anyway, but…”

“And what do you do for fun?” He didn’t want to push too hard. He didn’t, but he wanted to learn.

“I… Oh! Sometimes, my dad goes fishing in the pond. When mum is busy so I can’t go with her, he’ll invite me to come too… I don’t fish myself, but it’s fun to watch, and just feel the sun on my scales…” She was smiling, and looked up to the sky with a happy expression, not a searching one. “I love getting some sun…”

“You say it like you don’t get it very often!” He joked, but her expression fell when he said that, like it was snapping her out of a reverie.

Did she… not get to feel the sun, much?

That would be… odd.

“Oh, and I like listening to you!” She flashed him a bright smile, suddenly like nothing had happened. It gave him a little whiplash. “Your stories are so amazing… what do you like to do, Medarel?”

He told her, and it was fine. They walked the meadow together, and she would see wildflowers, excitedly plucking them until she was cradling a small pile of them in her claws.

“I’ve heard some nature dragons are averse to picking flowers, not wanting to interrupt the cycle of new growth.” He looked at how gently she held them, one claw over the top of the other to guard her precious cargo from the wind. “That others still will take them, but use their magic to grow them right back. Enjoying the bounty, but giving back to it.”

“Oh…” She looked down at her flowers a little guiltily. “I can’t do that, not yet…”

“You are learning magic, then?” That was exciting. He hadn’t had a chance to witness any of the dragons of the clan performing nature magic. He’d gotten the idea Droseran practised it, but it wasn’t really something that had been showcased around the fire.

“Um, not really…”

“Well, I suppose it’s easy for me to think this way- I’m no nature dragon- but there seems to be no shortage of flowers around.” He didn’t like being the reason she felt down. He didn’t usually find his foot in his mouth so often either. “And for the record, there’s not much I can brag about when it comes to magic, either. I can make it snow a little, but that’s about it.”

Any guilt was gone, replaced entirely with the wide eyed wonder she faced him with. Their nights around the fire made him feel blessed to have seen it as often as he had.

“You can do that? That’s amazing…!”

“Oh, it isn’t much, really.” He shrugged, but couldn’t help but find a smile pulling at him. She just looked so excited, it was adorable. “I could show you, if you wanted?”

“Yes please!”

He stood back from her, closing his eyes. He breathed in deeply. There wasn’t any ambient ice magic to draw from, of course, so he only had himself as a source to use. He was no great frozen mage, but he wasn’t attempting to raise a berg- it’d be enough.

He raised his hands and opened his wings in unison. When he breathed out, it came as a puff of frost, and with it came a gentle fall of snow, right there in a sunlit meadow of the Viridian Labyrinth.

“Oh, wow…” She wore pure wonder. A fleck fell on her nose, and she gazed cross eyed to focus on it. “It’s so pretty…”

He raised a claw to her face, taking the little snowflake. Ready to melt on her warm body, it reformed perfectly on his again, as he presented it for her to see clearly. She admired it as she had the flowers, but more so- the novelty of it capturing her completely.
In reality, the snow was quaint. Medarel knew that- it wasn’t even as good as he could usually perform this spell back home. Another ice dragon might even laugh at him for it, and he’d laugh too, admitting they were right. But to Yvel, it was a wonder beyond imagination.

“You’re amazing, Medarel…”

His heart soared. They sat in the little patch of snow as it fell, seeing much of it blow away on the day’s strong wind, forming rippling patterns in the gusts as though the Windsinger and Icewarden were dancing together, here in the Gladekeeper’s backyard. A sight to behold, if just for the audience it received.

At the gathering that night, another ceremony to precede the meal. Cerise stood before them all and spoke.

“Our souls are not wrought from focus as the retix’s is, but from a rawer substance. We cannot ride the waves alone, to be Seen we must find ourselves lifted up by the spirits we call upon.”

Listening to her, even the idea of all the deities coming together to enjoy a moment like he’d had before sounded more normal to Medarel. This wasn’t just her though, was it? This must be what the whole clan believed. Surely they worshipped the Gladekeeper in some capacity, though?

He opted to bring it up to Yvel on their next day together.

“Um… it doesn’t, we don’t like… reject her.” Yvel was clearly giving it some serious thought. “What we believe… she’s one of the higher deities. One of the ones that See the retixs…”

“So then, this is a regional practice?” She seemed puzzled by his response, so he went on. “The Gladekeeper rules the Viridian Labyrinth as a whole, but in the Domain you have more imminent spirits you observe. I’ve heard of that before, I believe; some wind dragons who hail the west wind or the winds of autumn, some earth dragons who understand specific cave systems to have their own powers. Does that sound right?”

“...I think so…”

If she was training to be a priestess, she surely knew the answer. But if she was avoiding rejecting his interpretation outright so as not to offend him, he wouldn’t make it hard for her to be polite. Besides, it was surely personal for her.

“What did you learn growing up?” She caught him off guard with that one, but he wasn’t averse to the topic.

He told her some of the lore his clan passed down. There had always been a place for ritual and worship, though not as much as it seemed there was in the Domain. Not that he could say that he knew day to day life for all its dragons.

He had a fair few questions about Cerise’s sermons. The bounty of nature never seemed to come up. Considering she was a water dragon, perhaps this was a more elementally neutral sect of faith. Fundamentally, though, he had other things he was more concerned about.

He asked Yvel a question, and she bounced it right back to him. Not so fast as to be obvious, but it did start to feel after a few of their days together as though she was intentionally trying to avoid the topic of… herself.
They had a nice time together, they did! They basked in the sun, they roamed the boundaries. Cerise had warned him that she was not to go into the forest where there may be any risk of predatory creature, which confused him since Ebrejia and Anto seemed to spend a lot of time out there. Maybe they were trained to deal with such things where Yvel wasn’t- but he asked about it and she changed the subject, so how would he know?
He had that fear, that suspicion he’d considered before, that she was only so concerned with him because he was the first dragon outside her clan that she’d ever met. She knew little of the world outside, so it didn’t seem likely that she’d been there. She was so… innocent. He didn’t want to think that he liked her because of that. He liked to think that he was interested in her for how earnest she was with what engaged her, how thoughtful she seemed to be about anything she wanted to say… but it was easy to get caught up in being found exciting. It was easy to look at someone who didn’t know any better than to treat a stranger with wonderment and be lured in by the temptation to be thought of so highly with such little effort.
Medarel wanted to be better than that. That was so much of why he wanted to learn more about her; he felt the infatuation, but he knew that it couldn’t be called anything more than that until he had more to hang it on than the desire to be someone’s first love.

So as much as he didn’t want to make her feel pressured, he knew he had to push on. If he didn’t, if he couldn’t… he wouldn’t be able to stay by her side and feel right about it. If he couldn’t come to really know her, he might as well fly off back south.

Their next day together, she gathered flowers again.

“Once you’ve plucked them, what do you do with them, Yvel? You carried them home last time.”

It was bright and clear out, this time with no wind. They were walking up an incline. Not a steep one, the Domain wasn’t set into too dramatic of a valley. But it crested up on one side, and made for a nice view at the top. He’d scouted out the location on one of his days alone.

“I put them in a bowl… They still smell nice, even now…”

“Will you do the same with these, do you think?”

“Hmm… no, I don’t think so.” She smiled down at them, eyelids fluttering low. “I think I have a different plan for these…”

“Is that so?” He returned her playfulness. “Well, count me as interested to see. Here, let’s sit.”

They’d reached the top. Or at least, as close to the top as they could before breaching the forests. From where they were they could see the whole territory of the clan, from the lair the faes called ‘the ship’ to the pond, the meadows, the spotted trees throughout the otherwise clear expanse…

Now stationary, Yvel began doing something with the flowers in her claws.

“Oh, let me turn-” Medarel moved to have his back to her. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

She giggled, and straightened herself so they were sitting back to back. He heard the petals rustling softly, but made efforts not to let himself guess at what she was doing. He could easily distract himself, at any rate; today he was a man on a mission.

“You said before that you like the sun, right?” He tried to keep his tone light, playful as they’d been. “The sun might cast some shadow from the trees later, but I think we’ll be good for a while, at least.”

“I’m glad!” She chirped. Then more softly, “...Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’ll find I think of you a lot.” He couldn’t help but grin to hear her giggle again. It spurred him on. “What keeps you from it, usually?”

“Huh?”

“From the sun, I mean. You spoke of it before like it was a treat.”

“...Oh…”

“I was just wondering. I’ve seen you go with Cerise into the forests most mornings, so I suppose the canopy would cover most of the light.”

“Ah… yes…”

He scolded himself for giving her an out, coming up with his own answer. Not that he wanted to be interrogating her in the first place, but surely there was a happy medium somewhere in there. He wanted to find it- but if he couldn’t, at this point, it was better to be more direct.

After all, if he wasn’t going to stay, he didn’t want to waste any more of Yvel’s time. It would be better for both of them.

“You said before you probably weren't to tell me what the pair of you get up to out there. I understand, I do, but it feels like a big part of your life. Is there anything I can know?”

He heard the rustling of the petals pause, and then continue again. She didn’t speak. But he would give her time to think it through.

He was starting to think she wouldn’t reply at all, and just opened his mouth to speak when she finally squeaked out an answer.

“...She’s trying to help me…”

It was so quiet he could scarcely hear it, but he made out how her voice cracked with it. It near physically pained him, made all the worse by the fact that it just wasn’t enough.

“Help you with what?”

He heard her shift. There was no pause from the sound of the shifting petals this time. Moments passed, maybe minutes. His determination melted away a little more with each moment, the guilt and fear of losing her seeping in to take its place.
They could have been sitting in that uncomfortable silence for as much as ten minutes before he could bare it no longer.

“I’m sorry.” And he meant it. Fundamentally, if she didn’t want to share, that was her choice. She didn’t have to say it for him to know it, and pretending he didn’t and pursuing the line of questioning anyway… he felt he’d had good intentions, but it didn’t seem right now. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. I know your clan has its own way of doing things, and as an outsider it’s not my place to push my way into its secrets.”

He had wanted them to be something. Perhaps it was strange, someone like him who had such a cautious nature. Rushing to action never seemed wise, it was never the answer he came to. But he had felt so strongly about Yvel, stronger than he ever had about anyone.
At the end of the day, if she wasn’t willing to share with him who she was, then that was answer enough.

“...-used to know.”

“Hm?” He’d gotten lost in thought, her mutterings taking him off guard. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I used to- why… why isn’t it…”

He didn’t understand, and finally turned to see her again. Looking down over his shoulder, then twisting around, he saw flower petals falling apart. Some slightly torn, falling from her claws or on the ground already. What remained was twisted, bits pulped and clumping together.

“I- I used to be able to do this…” She grabbed the stem of a wild daisy and twisted it around a stretch of jasmine vine. The tissue began to bleed sap, cambium crushed with the motion, til the structure lost enough integrity to fray. Her voice kept cracking, hiccuping, choking back–

“Why isn’t it- why can’t I-”

The stem snapped.

“Why can’t I do it anymore?!”

Her hands suddenly jerked out, then up to clutch at her head, petals falling in damp clumps on her lap and the grass. Some stuck still to her, grinding into the scales of her face as she gripped hard, starting to sob now in earnest, smears of dye ruddying her cheeks.

“Yvel- Yvel, are you okay?!”

“I’m f-fine!” She gasped between ragged, shaking breaths. “There’s nothing- I, I’m sor- there’s, ah… Medarel… I don’t- I’m not- there’s nothing, I can’t do anything! I can’t even do this anymore…”

“Yvel, listen to me. I’m here, okay? Please, just breathe. Can you do that for me, Yvel? Just try, okay?”

He wanted to give her space, he wanted to hold her- he settled for sitting in front of her. She didn’t respond, so with a moment’s hesitation, he raised his hands up and placed them gently over her’s, still scrubbing at her face. A sharp intake of breath from her left him warier still, but he steeled himself and gently, inch by inch, guided her hands away.
Her big eyes blinked back at his concerned ones as though waking from a bad dream. Soon, he held her hands just like she had held his on that night they first met.

“Hello, dear. I’m here, see? Let’s breathe, okay? With me.”

He gently closed his eyes, straightened up, and took in a long, slow breath. A moment, and he released it once again. When he repeated the action, he heard a shaking breath join in with his rhythm. She struggled at first, a whimper leaking through, but he rubbed a claw gently against her palm, grounding her.
They breathed together, slow and steadier as they went, til the aftershocks of panic bled out from her lungs, and they fit well in with the gentle breeze that rippled through the forest beyond them.

Eventually Medarel opened his eyes. He found Yvel already staring at the ground, off to the side. He squeezed her palm and she looked up at him nervously.

“How are you feeling?”

“...Better…”

“Thank goodness!” He chuckled fondly, and she couldn’t help but smile, weary and a little bashful though it was. “I was worried, my dear.”

She looked exhausted. Her shoulders slouched, her whole body swaying so very slightly, but enough to tell him that it was an effort to stay up at all. He shifted himself around, Yvel tracking his movement til he was lying with his back against the grass, wings spreads, gazing up at the clouds. She followed suite, as he’d hoped she would.

“I never meant to upset you so much…”

“You didn’t! You didn’t do anything wrong…” Yvel sounded worried for a moment, but she calmed herself, taking a deep breath. “I…

“I’m not… complete. I don’t have all of me.” He didn’t understand, and she surely understood, so he didn’t interrupt as she considered how to explain. “Mum says I was someone else, before. I was someone important, a retix like Droseran is. But Droseran came to Sornieth in tact, while my spirit was born into my egg.

“She says there’s so much I could do.... Powers I had, that I could have again… if I could only remember.
We sit together, around a cauldron… she pours oil in the water, and asks me what I know… when I don’t know anything, she tells me what I should know… she’s trying to figure it out, trying to help me…”

She croaked a little, needing a moment to school herself. He took her hand, rubbing soothing circles into them again. She turned her head to look at him, affection in every inch.

“I just… I don’t know…. There are things I remember, but sometimes I get confused… Sometimes I ask daddy something, and he doesn’t know what I’m talking about… I don’t know if I dreamed it, or it was a memory… I don’t feel complete yet.”

She sighed.

“I used to make flower crowns and daisy chains. I would sit in the meadow when mum was writing, or daddy was hunting… Anto and Ebrejia weren’t there much, I don’t know why… They learnt to fly, but I can’t even remember how to braid anymore… I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t know who I…”

She left the thought there. He didn’t need to hear the rest, anyway.

“Every day?”

“Huh?”

“You sit with her by that cauldron every day? When she’s not off beyond the clan territory, that is.”

“Well…” She looked so softly at him, he ached. “I did, before… but now I get to spend these days with you!”

He huffed out a laugh, but it felt like a heavy weight had been put on him. He sat up, taking her in. Her expression was open. Perhaps the things left unsaid between them had been taking their toll on her too. It was a tough topic to broach, but she looked lighter for it.

For his part, it felt like his responsibility was only just beginning.

“Do you want to, always?”

She dove up into his chest so swiftly that it nearly bowled him over. He caught himself with one hand, lest they both tumble back down the incline they’d hiked, a mess of pale blue scales yelping together.

“Yes! Medarel, I- yes!”

Earnest and loving and sweet... Her face held such hope, he felt he could read his whole future in it. He wished he could pluck her out from everything frightening in her life the same way she plucked flowers from the fields.
He couldn’t, though. He didn’t really understand what Cerise’s expectations of her daughter were. Whatever they were, Medarel didn’t think that they were doing her any good. But he didn’t think he could get in the way. Yvel said she was helping her, there must have been a lot of love there. He couldn’t take this young dragon from her family and the only home she’d ever known, no matter how he felt about it.
The best he could do was stand by her, support her as much as she needed. So long as she would have him, that would be his goal. If he could give her these days off frolicking, now able to speak more openly too, then they could build something. Even if she wasn’t sure who she was before, they would learn together just who she was now.

There was just one more matter to deal with, if they were to do that. And surprisingly to Medarel, Yvel asked that he allow her to take care of it on her own.

“...Mother?”

Cerise looked over at her daughter. The food had been finished, the gathering complete. The rest of the clan had taken off to their various dens, even Medarel nodding and heading off to leave the pair alone. The last dying embers crested low, Cerise poised to quash them entirely underfoot, but pausing now.

“...What is on your mind, Yvel?”

Mother and daughter regarded one another, a faint red glow painting each. So determined was her expression that if the fae before her wasn’t twice the length, Cerise might have thought she was addressing Ebrejia.

“Medarel… Medarel and I are in love.”

Cerise nodded.

“I am aware. His feelings for you were always obvious, and yours have become so as well.”

“Yes… We… We wish to be mates.”

“I understand.” She nodded again, seemingly unconcerned, and returned to stomping out the fire. She didn’t pause as she went on. “You will still be beholden to your duties. We will work through to uncover your true self, and guide the growing clan together. You will be-”

“Mother!”

Cerise froze as if struck, before slowly raising her head to stare at Yvel. Her daughter looked back, unwavering.

“I… I will be priestess… I will work to regain myself… but- but I want to have a family with him! I want… I want to share a lair with him, and live together…” Defiant as she had been to interrupt, she stood fidgeting now. “We need time to build our life together… We need… I need…”

“Enough.”

Yvel braced herself. She had never spoken over her mother before, never made demands like this. Ebrejia did it all the time, but she did not.
Still… Medarel was amazing. He was confident, he had conviction. She felt that if she were to stand by his side, share his life with him, she had to at least try to prove herself. It wasn’t something she was used to…
With how Cerise looked down at her, she worried she was failing him.

“My daughter… It is okay.”

…Okay…?

“You wish to be a mate, you wish to be a mother. These are feelings I have had, and have even now.” Circling like she was about to pounce, like a constrictor snake squeezing ever in, but her words filled Yvel with hope. “I would ask you to split your attention, to know your calling here. I would ask you to confide in me if you struggle to do so. But do so you may.”

She reached out her claws to Yvel. Her daughter reached back, grateful tears threatening to fall.

“You will be an example to all who come from here. Your hatchlings will grow our family, our clan, our faith; all our strengths.”

The pair embraced one another.

“Perhaps this new chapter of your life will even be what connects you to that which you have forgotten. Tomorrow I will task Nicht with negotiating for materials to form the pair of you a lair of your own.”

Whatever else she had to say didn’t matter, not now. Yvel was overjoyed, she felt so much love surrounding her. She would do whatever her mother asked her, having been given this gift. Her future felt bright for once, and she was ready to embrace it.