et spēs distorta

Larcei is inflicted with Burn for two rounds !

"Not the... Fire..."

Her heart sinks into her chest. She had seen it used against their foes and bore witness to its devastating effects, but now, the ever-burning pyre comes for her. Maybe she should have been more visibly disgusted by it. Maybe she should have told Fury off after the first cast, should have explained that this is the one way in which she would not like to be likened to Mother.

But her mother is in every part of her. She is Larcei's skin, Larcei's hands--Larcei's bones and blood, which are quick to char as embers dance from the cage to her coat. She always did hate longflowing clothing--funny that it would bite her like this. Is this what Mother felt? The same heat Father endured? Were they wearing long and flammable robes when the meteors struck--or better yet, were they caged? Did fate seal them within their prison, inside a desert of their own destiny?

Even if she were to break free, the blazes would still cling to her. They are her birthright now, given as a hellsent gift from her heavenly blessing. Od's bloodline is cursed. His daughters will all vanish in smoke and his sons made into naught but kindling.

"Damn you...!" she curses, tearing the outfit off of her, piece by piece, "Damn you!! Why did it have to be fire?!"

By the time she is wearing just the sleeveless tunic beneath her coat, the other enemies have caught up. They tear into Harken first, stopping him dead in his tracks before he can get close enough to reach for her hand. "Harken!" she cries, but dead ears are deaf. If only it weren't for the cage tying her down. If only...

And then it is Fury's turn to wet the sands with her blood. All the disdain she once held for her vanishes the moment Larcei realizes what had happened, and she shakes the cage with more might than she ever had before.

Cage is burning! -1 HP; Cage 1.5/5 HP Larcei is burning! -1 HP; Larcei 9/10 HP

The tears streaming down her cheeks aren't enough to douse the flames. They erupt from her pile of discarded clothing and catch her leg again, forcing her into a dance with death to keep their spread at bay. It is only by Zephia's hand that she stops, and when she does, she goes silent with rage.

Her gaze breaks, trembling as it trails to the ground.

"If I make it outta here," she murmurs, her scorched knuckles stopping their shaking to constrict around the cage, "I'll kill you. Simple as that. I'll break your horns off with my bare hands and stab them into your tongue... you bitch."

Watching her ignore the pull of remorse to make a mockery of their slaughter fills her with a new kind of ire. She's past the point of yelling, past the point of blowing up in her loud and shrieking way. There is only the Isaachian desire for this woman's deeds to be repaid. Revenge lies throbbing beneath a wound cauterized by the spreading fire. Zephia will join the ranks of the dead she so haughtily tramples over, even if Larcei has to die to see it happen.

And she stood above it all, looking down at disgrace as her army continued to bulldoze armies.

It wasn’t much different now, with two fallen members in her team. They had been taken out faster than she could’ve reacted, and were now beyond her saving. Idunn knew the smell of no return, and so she turned her eyes to the living ones, both ally and foe.

Again. Those shadows rushed towards her form with weapons drawn and she only had skin and cloth to defend herself with.

Backup activates! Sreng Lancer attacks! -1HP Idunn HP= 6/10 Sreng Mercenary attacks Idunn with Killing Edge! Roll1D20-4 = 15, critical! Idunn HP= 4/10 Idunn counters with Seraphim! Roll1D20-6 = 3, miss!

Irritation ate at her core harsher than blade. Once more they drew blood, slashing at her side and leg, throwing her off in such a way that she couldn’t even concentrate enough to conjure a spell to defend herself with. The shadows retreated and Idunn sat on the bloodied sand, her once fully white robes now tattered, ripped and bloodied. Her body hurt but her mind was still sharp, though nervousness clouded her thinking. This would lead nowhere.

Then, shouts. Shouts that burned brighter than the flames licking at the cage holding one of their teammates. Mismatched eyes locked with the figure of that girl that had been trapped until now, her body being slowly burned alive. Idunn could smell all sorts of things, but from her all she could get was distress and rage. Even more so after that dragon lady seemed to mock her.

Ah.

She could almost retell all of it from start to finish. A young lilac-haired divine dragon, trapped in a den of demon dragons. They shouted, yelled, mocked- urged her to just shut up and give in already. She stood strong however, so much so that they had to perform a ritual to rip her soul out of her body to finally get what they wanted.

But there was no bravery or honor there.

Idunn couldn’t name emotions now, but she was sure that if she had stood there, facing the girl she once was, she’d smell fear. Raw, unfiltered fear clinging to the wish that someone would break in there and save her, even though she knew nothing like that would ever happen.

A girl trapped in a cage, mocked and threatened by those around her, being denied freedom by a dragon.

Idunn held onto her dragonstone tightly and urged it to respond- to just react in any way it could even if she couldn’t call on her powers. Once fair skin and long limbs morphed into dark purple arms and legs with bright red veins and razor-sharp claws. Silky lilac hair was nowhere to be found, replaced with a tall crest atop a long neck. The only identifiable characteristic were the eyes- one crimson, the other a bright emerald. The iguana-like demon dragon roared at Gofannon, though her attention was at the cage.

Idunn casts Seraphim at the Cage! Roll 1D20= 14, hit! Cage HP= 0/5 Cage has been broken! Larcei 9/10 HP is now free.

Even in this form, she couldn’t call on her Dark Breath. Instead was a burst of light similar to the spells she had casted before against the soldiers. The ray struck the burning cage’s bars and the structure gave in, finally allowing its captor to run free. Yet Idunn knew she couldn’t commemorate, there was no time to. 

A wrathful roar echoed back at her as Gofannon dove from the sky, beak and talons ready.

Gofannon counters with Serrated Beak! Roll 1D20-4 = 13, hit! Roll 1D20-4 = 6, hit! Idunn HP= 0/10

To say she knew how to close combat as a dragon wasn’t exactly the truth- she never actually had to do that, but Idunn didn’t really care. If there was one thing that Fae and Roy taught her was that lack of training should never hold anyone back regardless of context. At the time, they were talking about her difficulty to learn how to write- now, she was applying it in battle. Both dragons clashed against each other, their screeches and roars almost deafening. 

It didn’t last long, however. Idunn was too injured, as the results of her soft and fragile human body were translated into her dragon form as large gashes and cuts through her scales. It didn’t take much for her to fall to the sand and lack the strength to get up. Victorious yet still angered, Gofannon took to the skies once more while Idunn laid bloodied on the sand, weakly holding her head up. 

She freed that girl. She did something good.

The demon dragon’s head fell against the sand, its breathing slowing down in deep sighs.

At least this time, she fell not from the lack of will to live, but from a sacrifice to let another thrive. That was okay in her heart.

"My first... comment would be... learn how to use that weapon of yours better. Alright dear?" She cackles, staying back from the midst of the battle, playing carefully with the thunder in her hands. Wind billows her hair around her, fluttering up her layers of skirts. She wonders what she looks like to her "teammates".

Not that it matters to her anyway though.

She does not care for the opinons of mere humans - nor the opinon of that weird little mismatched dragon.

With a snap of her fingers, another bolt of lightning flies across the battlefield and pierces yet another one of their enemies straight through the heart with a thunderous shock.

It's not as disasterous of an impact as she would have liked, but it will do for a punishment for the illusions that they fight against.

Zephia [10/10 HP] hits Sreng Mercenary [8/10 HP] with Thoron. [Roll: 14 - 6 = 8] [-3 HP] [Sreng Mercenary 5/10 HP]

"Hmph. I will be... trusting that you do better with dying next time, my dear little foe. It won't do at all to continue fighting when you're this weak, now would it?"

Backup activates! Sreng Lancer attacks! -1HP Idunn HP= 9/10 Sreng Mercenary attacks Idunn with Killing Edge! Roll1D20-4 = 12, critical! Idunn HP= 7/10

The lance bit at her upper arm, blood quickly staining the now ripped white sleeve. The sword was close, but the priestess had been fast enough to at least spin her body so it struck her back instead.

She could smell her own blood and feel its warmth as it soaked the fabric. Her body found it disturbing, distressing- naturally. Idunn was a living being, and all living beings on a primal level crave for survival independently of what the mind says. She felt adrenaline rushing in, her heartbeat growing faster, her muscles preparing for the fight or flight response that would most definitely result in fight as Idunn refused to run and didn’t need to be ordered to showcase bravery.

But her mind was at peace. She felt no fear. She had been surrounded and attacked before.

Idunn counters with Seraphim! Roll1D20-6 = 7, hit! Sreng Mercenary HP= 8/10

Quickly turning herself around, Idunn managed to strike the sword wielding soldier quare on. It wasn’t point blank as the figure moved faster than she could’ve kept up with, but it was still a hit. Mismatched eyes watched as light magic burned on the mercenary’s chest- while it wasn’t fatal, it was an attack nonetheless.

Idunn never prided herself in hurting or killing, but she’d retaliate if needed. Because like anyone, she’d like to survive.

And…well, she wants others to survive as well.

Ignoring her own injuries, the dragon smelled blood and her attention immediately shifted to the man in their team getting decimated by the enemies, so much so that for a moment Idunn expected him to hit the sand and not move anymore- but he did. Alive.

She looked at her own hands. This magic wasn’t her own, but she could tell this was light magic. Light magic can hurt, but most importantly, it can cure. Bare feet against scorching sand took her to Harken’s side as Idunn kneeled next to him. “Your wounds.” They were bad. She had seen humans die from those before. “I…will help. Stay.”

Idunn casts Recover on Harken! Roll 1D20= 14, +8HP (+6 +2) Harken HP= 9.5/10

It worked, somehow. Her hands- hands that up until recently have only ever either maimed and killed or grasped at nothing, how emanated a warm, soft light that bathed Harken’s body. It wasn’t perfect and by the end of it he still had some scratches, but the worst had been taken care of. “...done. You may walk now.” Yet, she couldn’t help but focus on her own hands.

She helped someone. She used her power to save.

The dragon looked up at Harken.

“Be well. Careful.”

She sighs, feeling the crackle of thunder underneath her fingertips, a shock running between her fingers as she rubs them together. Good. She could work with this.

"Oh, dear, perhaps we should be more... aware of our surroundings? How pathetic." She directs towards the girl in the cage. Larcei, if she remembered correctly. Not that it mattered whether she remembered or not. If she was lucky, she would never see any of these fools again after this stupid training mission was over.

"Try to stay... safe in there, darling." She snaps her fingers, a powerful blast of lightning firing towards the warrior that her... "teammates" had already been attacking. It pierces true straight through the enemy's heart, shock spreading quickly through its body and leaving it a charred mess - though not quite dead yet.

Zephia [10/10 HP] hits Sreng Warrior [7.5/10 HP] with Thoron. [Roll: 11] [-3 HP] [Sreng Warrior 4.5/10 HP]

She turns to the fools, and the strange girl with the mismatched eyes, snapping her fingers still crackling with thunder to show what she was capable of should they misbehave.

"You." She points at the purple haired girl, "Kill this fool for me, won't you?"

Opening her eyes however, and there was no Fae in this desert. It was hot, but it was not the gentle warmth of Nabatea. The sand on her skin felt different, more grating, and the air was much drier. A vast, blue sky that stretched itself to infinity, but that seemed more oppressive than freeing. And yet, none of this was real. The density of the magic around her was telling enough that this world was but a well crafted illusion, a lucid dream. It didn’t take long to figure as mismatched eyes looked down and saw her body wrapped in white robes instead of her usual deep purples, blacks and dark magentas.

…it was strange. Her dragonstone was there, hanging from her neck, but it wouldn’t respond correctly. It was as if it were confused, dazed. The magic running in her veins wasn’t her own. There was no fire and no darkness, but this wasn’t the soothing and guiding light of the Divine Dragons either.

Idunn felt a presence, raised her head, and saw chaos unfold. A girl caged by a large, bird-like beast that…almost seemed like a corrupted or malformed Divine Dragon, and an army of three soldiers, one of which was currently on fire. It was just like before, so much so that Idunn almost expected to hear the demented roar of one of her Fire Dragons as the culprit of the soldier’s burns, but there was no such thing. Or rather, it was a dragon. Just not one of her own.

"You." She points at the purple haired girl, "Kill this fool for me, won't you?"

A silver haired lady with what seemed to be a crescent moon on her head gave her an order. A manakete much like herself, though the lady didn’t hail from Elibe. Her smell didn’t match that of the dragons of her continent, but Idunn could at least pinpoint that she was imbued in magic.

It was by impulse.

Idunn attacks Sreng Warrior with Seraphim! Roll 1D20= 10, hit! Sreng Warrior HP: 2.5/10 Sreng Warrior is broken and cannot counterattack!

Light overflowed from her body and struck the burning soldier. It wasn’t enough to kill, but enough to seriously injure. Idunn took a sharp breath, stepped forward mechanically as if to go for a second attempt- but stopped herself. Her eyes blinked, her hand fell to her side.

There was no Zephiel. No Hartmut.

Why did she listen to that lady’s orders? Idunn came here to reclaim her mind and body. They were her own, not other people’s. She found herself staring at the girl in the cage, and couldn’t help but quietly sympathize- except Idunn’s cage was open. She just didn’t know how to step out of it yet.

Idunn glanced at the horned lady for a moment, then made the choice to ignore her presence.

The student's reluctance is adorable, especially with the small wyvern tumbling around her tail. Camilla knelt down to scoop the baby off of the student's tail, cradling it. The wyvern squirmed and cooed as it nuzzled closer to Camilla.

“An orphan.” The conclusion came to her. This one probably lost its mother during the cold days. “And yet…” It looked so energetic and happy, grabbing at her uniform and trying to eat her hair with its toothless jaws. 

Looking back at the lady, Idunn was quiet for a moment- thinking on how to organize her words. “You know dragons very closely. How?” Sure, she was well aware that wyvern knights were a thing. Many soldiers who wished for the skies but couldn’t tame a pegasus went for wyverns instead, a sight she was used to seeing in the past. The difference was that she…was the one they were to fight against- and die trying. 

However, this lady seemed different. Idunn didn’t expect the average soldier to know how to handle a baby wyvern. “You raised one?” Besides, her smell was different. It went beyond the smell of someone who simply lived among dragons, but Idunn couldn’t tell any further. This lady was from another land, so many scents were indecipherable to Idunn at the moment.

But she chose not to push more on the topic, instead hearing her talk about exercising. Perhaps it was her curious spirit, but Alear thought Idunn felt the same curiosity about the world. “Exercising can be like training, you can run to train for example.” When the dragon says ‘a cheer’ her mismatched eyes looked at the crowd happily singing along to the music. “A cheer… yes it sounds like one, doesn’t it?” A cheer to the fun they were likely having all together, connections no matter if born between humans or dragons were a beautiful thing. To connect as to open oneself to many feelings no matter how warm or cold they were.

When the hood lowered she smiled, her hair was of a beautiful lilac, a nice contrast to her now shinning pair of mismatched eyes so reminiscing of nature itself. “I like your hair, i think it would look great in a braid, or a ponytail maybe?” But it was just a passing comment as the Divine Dragon reached for her hand and pulled her along to join the crowd. Although they weren’t dressed to match them she didn’t think they’d mind a pair of dragons standing out in a sea of colors.

Upon walking by the instructors they welcomed them with a warm smile not minding and pointed for them to walk on likely whatever free spot they could find when they were ready. Her hold on Elibe’s dragon became loose once they found a quiet spot—well not quiet at all, but more than the front row—at the back. Before joining in with the movement she took a second to tie her hair up in the style she always would when preparing herself to train, this time no braids to decorate her hair outside the one she already had, just something comfy!

Loosening her shirt a little to prepare herself to jump around she took one last look to Idunn. Her hair was long and just like hers moments prior to tying it up, it was loose. “Do you want me to tie your hair? You might be more comfortable that way, but no need to if you’re uncomfortable.” Not like long hair would cause problems to anyone, in the end it was Alear’s own preferences for training.

She paused for a moment, then looked at the fellow heterochromatic dragon. “You are Divine Alear, then.” She would apply the same logic for Alear. Even though her aura and smell were unlike the Divine Dragon characteristics Idunn knew…she wasn’t interested in prying. If this is who Alear is now, this is who Alear would be. “My classmate.” Her words were quiet, more as if she were reaffirming it to herself.

The dragon hummed. Exercise was like training…but wasn’t training dedicated for war and battles? The people in this room seemed so joyful that she couldn’t understand why they were doing this. That- until she figured something out on her own. “...like when a young has to learn how to fly.” They need to practice with their wings. Her childhood was lost to time, but Idunn knew the behavior of baby dragons. Jumping off taller and taller ledges, trying to flap their wings to be able to fly. It demanded practice and insistence, so perhaps this is what those people were doing. “So…they train…to dance.” She…did know that humans loved to dance- some dragons did, too. 

At the compliment to her hair, Idunn momentarily wasn’t sure how to respond- until she remembered Fae’s words. “Thanks.” But before she could process what else to say, Alear had brought the both of them to a quieter spot with fewer people around them. Ah- there were many kicking motions in that weird dance. It would be best if they didn’t kick anyone. “...I like your hair too.” Was what she meant to say earlier. Fae told her it was always nice to give back a given compliment, and Alear’s hair was nice regardless. It was very colorful and unique. 

Figuring that it would be maybe best to remove a layer of clothing, Idunn chose to remove her uniform jacket- staying with the white shirt instead. She didn’t really minded wearing more or less clothing articles- she was simply used to hiding behind cloaks as she was used to living like a shadow.

“Tie?” Tie…her hair? “Like that?” She pointed to Alear’s own hair. The once long, silky colorful crest was now in a ponytail. Idunn had never really done anything to her hair, at best just decorating it with ringlets and other small jewelry for no reason in particular. “Fine.” She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, so the dragon just stared at Alear with slight curiosity- at best maybe a little bit lost.

She had nothing against bride, of course, but it somewhat intrigued her and worried her at the same time, since it might be a ghostly presence that could be in great suffering too, due to her appearance: many said that when you died, you kept the very same induments you were wearing the last time in life and that meant that the poor bride died during the circumstance of her wedding. Sakura couldn’t help but feel the pain in that otherworldly presence and the thought of it eventually made her decide to try her luck and roam around the monastery’s hallways at night, to see if she could untangle the painful thoughts in her mind.

Wearing a cute floral sleeping gown with a soft cardigan over it, she made her way out her apartments with only a very small candlelight in her right hand, walking towards the main area of where these sightings have been made: the central hallway. Step by step, she eventually reached the selected destination, which was obviously empty and dull at that hour of the night. The several marble columns divided the large room and the petite priestess felt even more shorter in the middle of that immense space, especially now that everything was pitch black, except of her feeble candlelight, the only one source of light.

The thought of being alone in that enormous place was in Sakura’s mind, until a sudden voice echoed in the large hallway, immediately reaching Sakura’s ears as she turned to see a very petite figure standing in the opposite side of the hallway, eyes meeting halfway while the ghostly figure slowly approached the petite priestess. Sakura remained a little interdicted for a long moment while the other presence to get near to her, just to reveal herself as a familiar face.

“Idunn… correct?” she still was a bit unsettled by the sudden appearance of a seemingly familiar student, but she was relieved that the presence was actually a real person and not a ghost. “I’m Sakura, I’m sure we happened to meet at the church sometimes, I usually work there” she softened the tone, trying to relax herself now that she was sure she wasn’t a ghost. “And… yes, I’m here for seeking the bride too” she nodded with her head, tightening the grip of her cardigan on her shoulders. “You actually look like her with that white gown” she let a little giggle escape from her lips, softening the tension that hovered around the area.

Lilac brows arched ever so slightly as the dragon seemed to show the beginnings of surprise in her features. “Brides are humans going to marry. I look like one?” She wasn’t going to marry anyone, though, and from the drawings she saw brides seemed to have elaborate dresses that made them seem big and fluffy, like clouds. Idunn had…well, a nice sleeping gown. Comfortable, but not fluffy like a cloud. “I won’t marry. I’ll sleep.”

She hummed for a second, choosing her words. “I can’t sleep. So I walk, to tire myself out.” That- until she noticed the shift in Sakura’s expression. Her eyes suddenly seemed concerned over something she couldn’t see or sense. Unshaken, Idunn turned around to look. The hallway extended into the distance, turning left and mostly cloaked in darkness save for the odd torch here and there to offer at least some source of light for the night guards. But Idunn saw no guards- or nothing that could earn that look of worry from Sakura.

She took a step forward, trying to listen in for any sounds she could’ve missed, as well as to try to pick on any odd scents. Nothing. “I don’t know what ghosts smell like.”

Then, the dragon turned around to face Sakura once more, pausing for a moment. 

“You have fear?”

It's a small blessing that spring time brings with it new life. After the death of so many wyverns, and the worry of so many students and staff for the ones who remained, there was an increased interest in caring for the hatching baby wyverns. Students, and a few naughty staff members who should know better, were so eager to see the babies hatch that Camilla had to make time in her day to help the flying instructors. She was delighted to help, and to offer Barbie's "help" as well for the newborns who had lost their mothers. The new wyverns were chattery, and eager to meet all of their excited visitors.

As she looks over the students, one in particular stands out to her. Her hood is up, her posture is guarded, the back of her uniform seems to be missing, and her feet are bare. Camilla wasn't sure what to begin with...

She supposed building trust would be a good start...

"They're much sturdier than they look." She reassures the girl, hoping she didn't startle her. "Even as hatchlings." She offers a warm smile and a welcoming hand. "Would you like to hold one?"

Fae was the closest she could recall, however she was no baby. A juvenile divine dragon, but one that was old enough to take care of herself and start her steps in life. Maybe there were babies in the tribe she once belonged to, but Idunn could no longer remember that detail. So now that she stood in the middle of hay and wood, her form surrounded by young drakes grasping at her clothes to climb her body and biting at her ankles with toothless gums to inspect if she was food or not, she didn’t really know what to do.

Though she had caught up on the scent long before her ears perked up at the voice, the other woman’s presence still earned mild surprise from her. She wasn’t expecting to be approached- or rather, she had zoned out slightly.

The lady smelled like countless wyvern riders she had fought before, but with a tinge of perfume she couldn’t identify and other sweeter, softer flowery smells the dragon had already learned to associate with soapy stuff for the hair. Her hair was long and lilac, covering one eye. Pretty, well cared for. Idunn expected her to be a princess of sorts- though here…she knew the lady was the counselor. The dragon had spotted that lilac hair inside the counseling office before.

“They are strong.” Her tone was quiet. “But their scales…are soft.” She could feel it from their little paws grabbing at her exposed legs. There was none of the roughness of an adult dragon’s stone-like skin. At the proposition to hold one, Idunn watched the woman for a moment. Then, looked down at the baby wyverns before effortlessly manifesting her tail as it appeared from her long skirt. Long and thin, clad in violet scales and bright vermillion veins.

She offered the tail to one of the youngsters. A baby decided to cling to it to playfight.

“The scruff.” Mismatched eyes stayed locked on the baby as it played with her tail. “They are grabbed by the scruff. But I’m too big to do that.” Though her memories of her time in the tribe were little more than fuzzy flashes, Idunn knew how drakes behaved. And she knew mothers grabbed their young by the scruff as it was an area with thick skin and therefore safe for an adult dragon to hold on to without hurting the baby with their teeth.

But these…were so tiny. Idunn was too big in her dragon form. Wyverns were so very small. “I can’t hold them.”

Sophia finds herself spending more time than she would have expected in the stables. It isn't as quiet as the library, indeed, it is overwhelmingly full of sounds and smells. Still, seeing all of the animals housed in the stables never ceases to be a source of amazement for her. Horses, pegasi, kinshi, wolves, and even wyverns were all rare sights back home.

Truth be told, Sophia still holds some reservations about interacting with wyverns after having been held hostage by Bern, but the baby wyverns inspire much less nervousness in her. One day they will be large enough to soar above the clouds with a grown man on their backs, but for now, they are just children exploring the world for the first time. Their fanged jaws snap not out of malice, but out of curiosity.

The hatchlings purr and chirp in equal measure. Some of the more adventurous babies climb the support beams, digging their tiny claws into the wooden beams. Freshly hatched, their wings are not strong enough yet to sustain flight, but that does not stop the bravest of the litter from trying to launch themselves into the air. There is no true danger; a copious layer of hay lines the floor of the stable.

One particularly tenacious baby wyvern manages a semblance of flight for the tiniest fraction of a second, although gravity takes over sooner rather later and it comes crashing to the ground. Or, it would have fallen to the ground had it not landed on the head of one of the volunteers.

Even without her distinctive appearance, Sophia recognizes the hooded figure by the pulsing in her blood.

"...Idunn?"

Though she couldn’t grasp everything as well as those around her, the situation still had an effect on her heart and mind. She was drawn to it, drawn to the stables and those little wyverns, even though the only experience with drakes she can recall was watching them fall out of the sky, their bodies burnt to a crisp alongside their riders from her Dark Breath as her massive form stood still and her army pushed forwards uncaring if their enemies were human or not. She had never even seen a wyvern properly before, never stopping to focus on them and their behavior. Her mind simply perceived them as obstacles- or rather, tools being used by her obstacles, that she had to destroy so she could pave the way towards the future Zephiel wanted. 

Everything could change now, as there was no longer a robotic drive to kill pushing her forward. The smell she before could only identify mixed with human blood was now pure- and young. The scent of a creature born not too long ago, their bodies still slowly figuring out how the world is, much like herself. When she reached the stables and locked eyes with a young drake, part of her couldn’t help but relate to those big, clueless golden eyes staring back. Curious, full of wonder. Just learning how to take the first steps and see what life is like. 

But there was a scent amidst those children, one that didn’t belong to a wyvern. It was draconic, however with the tinge of a human’s mixed in. One she recognized from where she once stood at the Dragon Temple. Looking up, mismatched eyes met lilac strands of long, silky hair.

“...So…phia.” This girl- Idunn saw her walking alongside Roy during that battle. Her body shimmering with magic energy, a blood that smelled of her own kind as well as a human’s. Although Idunn didn’t know the names of most faces she came across, her mind held on to this one. Perhaps it was because the girl was the only half-dragon in the group and her brain took note of that. Perhaps it was because her appearance somehow reminded her of herself from a long, mostly forgotten past. Perhaps it was because she just remembered it from the teacher’s morning call in class.

“Hi.”

misericordel​:

just because the girl— idunn was a dragon didn’t mean there was a reason to be afraid of her. veyle smiles a little bit, being reminded of how the divine one was when she’d first met him all those years ago. she seemed to be a little bit more lost than he was back then. “it’s nice to meet you, idunn!” her smile widens a bit, deciding that she should strive to be like alear was for her for this woman.

“i think it’s okay that you don’t know how to make a charm.” she replies, tilting her head a bit. “the most important thing about this exercise is that you put your feelings into it, not how well made it is. i understand wanting to make sure it’s made well though. i had the same dilemma making a bouquet for my brother.” she giggles, sitting down next to idunn to help more directly. veyle grabs some of the thread together, showing idunn how to start. “let’s just start with this, okay?”

Nice to meet her? Ah- she remembers that Fae explained to her once. When greeting someone for the first time, she should say that it’s good or nice to meet them out of…what was the word…politeness? Courtesy? The dragon couldn’t remember exactly, but it was a good thing to say. It made people happy and feel appreciated, and she wanted others to feel like that. It was good to be appreciated instead of feared. “Nice to…meet you, Veyle.” Hoping she did it correctly, Idunn looked up at the other girl- only to notice that Veyle was smiling at her.

That was good. Fae often smiled at her, and Idunn always felt warm when she did. If Veyle was smiling at her too, it meant she was happy.

Putting her feelings on to it though…that was going to be hard. 

It’s not that she didn’t want to- she did, she just didn’t know how to exactly. Idunn knew how to make rudimentary pieces of jewelry such as necklaces and bracelets, but they were all for the sake of decoration or to busy her mind with a simple task born from when she had to figure out a way to keep her dragonstone close to her body somewhere. A charm with feelings however…was entirely out of what she knew.

Still, she watched as Veyle sat next to her and grabbed some of the thread. “Feelings…are difficult. I don’t know them.” Maybe her choice of words was odd, but she might as well say it like that because indeed- it has been millennia since she last felt something other than painful and lonely indifference to the world. “I’ll try.” The start…she’d watch carefully.

And then…an off word. “O...kay?” Was that some modern dialect? She doesn’t remember hearing that word before. “What is that word?”