The Engineer

Zuleima was worried and vulnerable enough to search for help here: a tell-tale sign that she was worthy to care for any living being. The arrogant and those who believed they knew best all the time we would make poor parents, even to a prideful dragon who would probably respond easily to confidence. "I think he is in perfect hands," she now proclaimed in Common to Zuleima. "Perhaps the first step is to learn draconic. Or... second step. After the necessities like shelter an food, of course. What is his name?" She put a hand on Zuleima's arm gently and smiled, gesturing to the tent with her chin. "Come, both of you." There would be a pep in the Keeper's step, a rare and youthful feature of her excitement when it came to creatures or new, interesting knowledge. Zuleima often saw her like this, as she tended to provide Sakkara with both.

“I have not thought about it,” she admits with a wince. “I assumed Queen Damodred’s insistence that I refrain from naming my own creations meant that it was best to leave the choice to you, frankly.”

Perhaps she would need to examine why she wanted Sakkara to name the child left in her care, but there are other worries that sit at the forefront for her right now, so she will refrain. Instead, she follows Sakkara quietly, frowning down at the young dragon as she considers whether she should make something to keep him warm, as her body temperature is rather low, by virtue of being. Well, dead.

Upon letting her explanation sink in, the Keeper puts a hand to her heart and seems to soften in understanding. "You are a miracle," she said, looking at the dragon hatchling. But she gazes back up at Zuleima a moment after. "The little one is too." She seems to be finally at ease, believing the strigoi without question, and coming forward to greet the child. "Hello, little one..." She speaks in draconic, "I'm sorry I was so startled... You are welcomed here." She notes the clear bond between the two. "He is male, yes? It is clear he is imprinted. You are his mother now, Zuleima." She gives her a heavy look, hoping she understands the gravity of that.

"You may very well be the biggest influence in the powerful, immortal creature he will grow into."

“I—.” The words stick to her throat as Sakkara looks at her, and she gives a quick cough to clear her throat before continuing on as if nothing had happened. As if the compliment hadn’t sent her unbeating heart fluttering. “I believe so, yes. Although I am not fluent in draconic, so I haven’t been able to check.”

Subconsciously, she had been aware that she is now an essential figure for the little dragon, but to have it confirmed has her blinking in surprise and glancing down. 

“That might be an issue,” she says slowly. “Considering I am not particularly maternal, or a good influence.”

Its entrance flapped open, smoke and debris swirling through the confined space. Rüya paused, her attention snapping to Zuleima, then to the map. “The wounded can't evacuate,” she whispered, pointing a finger at the land between Aventia and Feronia. "Secured or not, Lysarans are dying. What good am I here?"

Rüya turned away, her shoulders tense as she wrestled with the confines of her duty. She had joined the Queen’s Court to enact change, but amid the chaos, her purpose felt frustratingly unclear. "By daybreak, hopefully," Rüya sighed, leaning against the table. "Where are you going next?"

“Healers need direction, they need a leader. You are here because you know how to heal in the battlefield and how to keep calm against even these odds.” Her eyes remain narrow as she stares dagger at the map, trying to manifest a solution to all their problems with a flicker of her fingers. It won’t happen, but in moments like this, Zuleima wishes she had enough faith in her body to pray. “Don’t begin questioning yourself now. You were chosen for a reason. Hesitation will only lead to a worse outcome.”

Zuleima herself is keeping most of her emotions at bay, attempting to look for the logic in the situation to get the optimal outcome. It’s not her brightest idea, but at this point it’s all she can do to stop herself from the anger.

“Good, that they were able to accomplish that.” Ingrid wasn’t heartless like she wanted some to believe, when it came down to it she would always relent and do the right thing it just took her time. “I disagree, we should leave while we have a change. So we can be prepared next time. The bodies he we can set a blaze from a distance to reduce the numbers joining the horde.” She really just wanted out and she was going to support any plan that meant they left in a timely fashion.

“Regardless, I do not like that plan and I will continue shepherding refugees to safety until I am told it’s time for more extreme measures.” It said with a touch more force than necessary, but with the smell of smoke on her hair and the sounds of screams echoing in her ears? She can’t quite care. 

A thin smile crossed Auden’s features considering the spell, but they had never been in a situation to witness its casting. “I can’t imagine anything more grating than the thought of being reanimated to answer the droll line of questioning from some idiot who didn’t know better than to allow the dead to rest,” Auden laughed–they had to imagine their attitude in death would be significantly less warm than their stern countenance in life. 

“The offer stands,” Auden said with a shrug of acceptance. They glanced at what remained of the pour in Zuleima’s crystal glass. “Or if you think of another opportunity to put our heads together. But I suspect in the meantime, the both of us ought to take our opportunities for rest where we can find them. We’re realists–we know what’s coming.” There was a grimness to Auden’s voice, even if they craved the opportunity to test their mettle in the forging ground of true conflict.

Another easy laugh follows and she raises her glass as if to toast Auden. 

“I suppose that despite its usefulness, being on the other end of the spell would be quite bothersome indeed.” And now she is wondering if Speak with the Dead works with dhampir and strigoi corpses, too, since their soul has long since departed that body. She wonders if she wants to ask a Student of Proserpina about the matter or not.

All amusement leaves her as Auden continues, and she sighs. Raising the glass to her lips, she downs the last bit of her drink, eyeing the glass thoughtfully. Slowly, she places it on one of the open spots in the desk. 

“I suppose you are right,” Zuleima sighs in agreement and moves to stand, already considering if she should go visit Sakkara or take some time to rest . “Thank you for hosting, Auden. I will see you around.”

“Another line secured? That fantastic news to hear.” Any slight improvement was good news to hear this point. Anyone could see by this point that they weren’t going to win this battle. “I don’t think fully evacuated is possible. We will have to leave some behind.” That was the reality Ingrid had subscribed to anyway. It would cost more lives to get everyone out safely. If given the choice she knows what she would make.

“Yes, there were some issues in the process, but luckily they were smoothed out rather quickly with the aid of some of the volunteers and the legion.” It had been curious to see the way the Blight brought people together in the unlikeliest of circumstances, but she supposes that avoiding death was a rather powerful motivator for most. “I am well aware, but that doesn’t mean we won’t try to get as many out as possible. For every corpse left behind, we have another enemy in our future.”

"Why do-" It was at that moment that the Keeper noticed movement within the sling that Zuleima was wearing. Her eyes settled on a small, scaly head peaking out and draconic eyes. Sakkara's own widened and she took a step back. "Tell me you did not steal a dragon's hatchling-" She couldn't imagine that the strigoi wouldn't have had a valid reason but it was still insane. How did she even manage to find it? Even if Zuleima hadn't taken the child, which was more likely that she didn't, then someone insane had to have passed it to her, right? "Who gave that to you?"

“I did not steal a dragon’s hatchling, Sakkara really,” she sighs as she reaches down to run a finger over the head of the bronze dragon to soothe him now that he has begun fussing a little bit. “A dragon god gave him to me after we formed part of a ritual to purify them.” She pauses, considering. “Which sounds unrealistic, I am aware, but Fharzai can attest to the whole thing.”

Auden quietly listened to Zuleima speak of the concrete component, and while the artillerist sounded somewhat exhausted by the development process Auden felt this hardly qualified as a defeat. “You recall the great dam system that diverted and now holds back the Elderwake River?” Auden responded. It was a feat of engineering that garnered onlookers for decades, centuries even–the great wall that held back enough water to clear a floodplain for civilization while housing a great reservoir to support the cityscape around it–a marvel by virtue of the impossibility it accomplished. “They say the concrete used in that project will be curing for the better part of the next seven decades. Curing or not, it still meets its mark to serve its purpose and has for over a hundred years.” It was meant to be encouraging, though this was not particularly obvious by their steady tone. 

“Well, if you’re lucky and you ask very kindly, I’m sure one of the necromancers would love to reanimate a corpse and you can ask it all the questions you please,” Auden responded with no shortage of amusement. 

The elvhen watched as Zuleima studied the blueprint and didn’t much care to dig out the several scrolls with notes and updates to the design. The past creations had been something of prototypes–Auden knew they wouldn’t last, but if they worked and how long they worked brought them closer to a worthwhile design. “I have a lead on one potential material, though I would be lying if I said I had much faith in it as a viable solution. I haven’t re-fabricated this particular device in a few decades. My interest in it waxes and wanes,” Auden admitted. It seemed Zuleima had more than a few ideas that would help move the needle forward on the weapon. “You’re free to take that, if you wish. Have your own go at it.”

“Slow and steady wins the race, I suppose,” she admits reluctantly. She does agree, truthfully. Good work takes time: years if not decades. Unfortunately, while she knows this, she also feels altogether like there is no such thing as time right now. With the wave of refugees and the threat at both borders, it is unlikely things will get easier for them any time soon, and she would have preferred if her current experiment was done before the whole mess had begun. Alas, there is no hurrying cement, so she will have to find other ways to amuse herself over the next week. 

“Speak with the Dead is a rather useful spell, isn’t it?” She agrees thoughtfully, genuinely considering Auden’s suggestion despite the clear amusement in their eyes. She is distantly aware of it, truly, but she is very fascinated by the shield and the possibilities it would bring if Lysara were able to reproduce it even to a smaller degree. Figuring out a starting block for the shield it’s one of her current priorities as well. 

She considers Auden’s offers, eyes flickering down to the blueprints and back again to the high elvhen. A myriad of thoughts flit through her face before she shakes her head, making her choice. 

“I have far too many projects on the backburner,” she admits reluctantly as she drags her gaze away from the project. Too many experiments to do, too little time and all that jazz. “It is a tempting offer however, and if my workload diminishes, I might take you up on it.”