"Power and consequence are always intertwined."

briar   smiled   as   he   watched,   shaking   his   head   at   the   apology.        “    n-   no,   not   at   all.   you   can   pet   her,   if   you   want.   j-   just g-   gentle   ones,   on   top   of   her   head, please.    ”        he   felt   a   little   foolish   saying   so.   his   gut   said   khaeryx   probably   already   knew   how   to   pet   an   owl.

"As I understand, owls like Teacup often live in small groups. She must see you as part of her flock." His smile gentled as he gave her a few more strokes, "You're honored to inspire such dedication. Isn't he, pretty one?"

After a few additional moments of doting on the little creature, who surely deserved so much more, Khaeryx was able to wrangle his thoughts enough to go back to the conversation that had been going on, "Are there any particular places you have in mind then, for your first journey?" One could travel for traveling's sake of course, but with the sparkle of wonder in the young man's eyes... Khaeryx thought that perhaps he would indeed have a particular destination in mind.

As Wenxie felt fingers on his shoulders, he fumbled for them, and eventually got a hold of the man's arm. Dizzy, he struggled as he tried to do as his benefactor asked of him; eventually getting up upright on legs as shaky as a newborn calf's.

"N-never," he whispered, and made a foolish attempt at fastening some strands behind an ear, as if that would make his appearance any better. "Would I have guessed, that my downfall- my downfall would be some ill-spirited jewelry."

The pain had come and gone in an abrupt shock. Wenxie felt unsteady, the way you do after you've been in the throes of a week long sickness, but the dull throbbing was easier to withstand than metaphorical the spear lancing him through his abdomen. His head a little clearer, he whispered:

"Only a little," he comforted, or at least hoped he did, "The sorts of things any might sputter when in a great deal of pain. Nothing humiliating, I assure you." At least, nothing worse than the writhing fit that pearl has caused, anyway. It hadn't been his words that were the issue. Perhaps then, it was best to direct their focus on the more immediate concern.

And then he spoke and she listened without any real show of emotion, continuing to stare unseeing into the campfire.

Yes, she supposed that him being a dragon would have likely alarmed a lot of people. Dragons were dangerous. Fierce. They lived long lives and most of them tended to be unapproachable at best and actively dangerous at worst. Morren herself had never encountered one before getting infected with the parasite inside her skull. They seemed like great beasts that lived far away from where she made her quiet home. She didn't even know that apparently scale colour meant more than simply something aesthetic.

"I thought you were my friend." She said. There the hurt couldn't be hidden.

That was what had stuck in her the most. Morren had been naive enough to believe they were friends. Maybe it was putting too much stock into their relationship but after having lived alone for so long, only having Esca for real company, she had thought that these strangers that she had found herself were starting to go from strangers to people she could trust. Apparently not. Apparently she couldn't even be trusted with the information of something so fundamental to Khaeryx's being.

"I'd have at least listened to you. You'd been helping us. You hadn't done anything that told me we couldn't trust you." She knew she was the last person to be judgemental of others. She didn't even have a soul that was fully her own. "Astarion tried to attack me when I was sleeping. You couldn't have been any worse than that."

He found it difficult to make Morren understand. He wasn't even sure if she could, at least fully. She was an intelligent woman, but this was... different, wasn't it? Bigger. It was bigger than a vampire spawn, or a pact-bound warlock. His secret was rivaled perhaps only by the wizard's. After all, like Khaeryx, Gale could wield a devastation that the rest of them likely couldn't imagine. Khaeryx could have killed them all, all at once, and so quickly that likely none of them would have known what had hit them.

But despite the destruction he was capable of, Gale had the benefit of being human. There were no notions that he would do such a thing knowingly or willingly. Others were not taught or believe that he, by his existence, was inherently suspect. The weight of supposed 'inherent evil' didn't hang over his head, along with all of the justified reasons people believed such a thing.

He was of course right, but Dorian still groaned. He had hoped for some break, some place to kick off his boots without worry of getting sand into them and make him even more miserable. But here they were, and he was afraid he'd lose sense of direction if it wasn't for the sun. It would be another chilly night in the desert once that was down, a thought that almost had him shudder.

But they were, at least, on the road. The remnants of the Imperial Highway was still somewhat solid beneath their feet. There was just... who knew how many miles on it, until they'd finally reach the Nevarran border.

"Yes, I have water," the stranger finally answered, his voice deep and smooth, with a somewhat... indiscernible accent. "You are welcome to it." After a pause, the pack at the man's feet was opened, showing naught inside but a map (quickly tucked aside) and numerous full waterskins. At least he was prepared.

“    s-   sometimes   i   do   consider   staying.   i   mean   .   .   .    the   keep   has   nearly   everything   you   could   ever want,    ”        he   said,   smiling   at   the   other   —   two   scholars   who've   hit   the   jackpot,        “    but   .   .   .    i   think   i   want   to   see   it   all   as   well.   to   not   only   read   about   it.   if-   if   i   can   persuade   myself   to   leave,   of   course.    ”

the   latter   was   said   with   an   abashed   smile.   that   was   another   reason   to   be   tempted   to   join   the   order.   with   his   anxiety   regarding   change,   he   was   well-primed   to   be   a   homebody.   but   it   seemed   unwise   to   spread   roots   when   he   may   have   to   flee   his   father's   agents   at   any   moment.

His eyes widened, eyebrows lifting, but his expression relaxed fully, a wide smile spreading across his face until teeth glinted in the candlelight.

"My! A surprise visitor!" As tempting as it was to reach for the little creature immediately, Khaeryx patiently waited for the tiny owl to climb out of the pocket properly and find her own footing before he attempted to greet her, gently extending one finger in her direction for her to sniff and inspect. "Hello there, little one!"

Briar couldn't have known, of course, about Khaeryx's utter fascination with such animals. He enjoyed birds overall, his companions in the skies, but little birds - like this elf owl - and ones even smaller like finches and sparrows were a particular, special love. Their grace and speed were a delight, and he found their speedy flight fascinating to behold.

"What? No! It isn't like that!" It wasn't! "It's just–" Just what? Henry scrabbled for the words. Face coloring with their desperate row, the brightness of it made bolder with his vigorous sweating, he would stand there, heart thundering, with his weepy sword. And, gods, what a vision he had been, this man more a beast. To Hal, he had never much considered, that perhaps his roads might come across such inspiring creatures, but there. Standing in the flesh and there by the trees? Khaeryx loomed. In his mind— Fuck. Henry frowned. He saw still those scales, those claws, and those brigands in his teeth. "You've been hiding it from me. Why?" Why, indeed? Khaeryx saved him. The knightling's helmet fell. He drank in a desperate pour of air, lungs whining, and turned to him with blood still warm in his temples. Everything, my word, ached. "I want to hear it." Yes. "Go on!" Tell me you thought I'd turn on you, turn you to those lich lords!

At least six meters tall, and undoubtedly twenty-five meters long with the tail that now curled around his clawed feet, he was enormous, scarcely squeezing into what had previously seemed to be a vast clearing. His scales sparkled like sapphires, with an underbelly so gold that it surely rivaled any dragon's hoard. His eyes were deep blue, like the lapis lazuli in those rings he so loved, sparking behind their color with the lightning that had so recently been the doom of their would-be murderers.

"You are a noble man, Henry," The voice was deeper now, so much deeper than the 'noble' that had walked beside him over those many miles, but poured not from that maw of frighteningly sharp teeth, but from the dragon's very mind, and into Henry's. "A noble man, a knight, is often honor bound to slay a dragon, when he finds one. Especially a dragon like me." Even the 'good dragons', those copper, silver, and gold dragons found as noble benefactors in the fables and tales, were to be treated with caution as the dangerous creatures they were. Those like Khaeryx, of the colors, however, were to be vanquished. Irredeemable evil.

"Were you ever going to tell any of us the truth?"

Morren felt it was a reasonable question. She felt duped a second time. First Astarion and now Khaeryx, both hiding who they were on a fundamental level and both leaving her with a sense that she had been an utter fool for trusting them so easily. She should have learned the lesson the first time but she had thought that there were no secrets amongst their group left to hide.

And how wrong she was.

"Avoidance of just such a revelation is among my top priorities, when among mortals. It's safer that way, for all involved." Khaeryx paused, his gaze focused on the fire too. It was hardly enough to combat the darkness that surrounded them, but it was the only light they had at the moment.

"If I had disclosed such information earlier, I would not have been able to continue to assist you all. Not if any of you had any brains in your skulls alongside those parasites. You'd have had to run... you'd be fools not to." While not all of this merry little band knew enough about dragons to recognize the increased danger of just what sort of dragon Khaeryx was, enough did. Gale, certainly. Wyll, Lae'zel, Halsin, most likely too.

"Ideally, I would have helped you all with this... dilemma, and then when it was over, I would have traveled on, with no one the wiser. You'd be free of this parasite, the Absolute would be gone, and I would be little more than a chance memory of an eccentric sorcerer. A mere footnote in the story you'd one day tell your grandchildren."

Huh. A man of a graceful tongue, perhaps of a more learned mind, may have thought himself at once gloriously, hopelessly, and deservedly doomed. As it were, Henry, a peasant boy, his speech boorish and unrefined, bore never a lute-string for a tongue nor the mind of a poet. As a consequence, he was of an undressed frankness. his eyes widening at the burn that crawled up his skin. Oh, no. And what is that thought that that held his mind?

Well, that he was certainly and undoubtedly bloody well fucked.

Crack! Henry wretched back sharply, but not before a fantastic surge of magic punched into his throat the earthiness of ozone. Disoriented, he tumbled onto his arse, vision whirring like a punch-drunk boozer's, and heard still the nobleman's voice — or so he believed. Fuck. But he had felt it, hadn't he now?, that last minute bauble that had found his flesh. Summery, he imagined, or like a nap in a peach grove. Guarding. He couldn't recall when last he had felt so safe.

"You're...wait, what? Liches? Why would some nothing bookkeep want with something that?" Why would you? He was played. His sword had fallen out his hand, and his helmet had clattered off where the tome had plummeted. There, it left him to nurse his head's tremendous ringing and that bedeviling rot-touch yet crawling up his arm, and as he eyed that face of his self-made savior, it thundered: he, just now, could've damn well died.

Swallowing, he missed that flurry of summer that had touched him soft.

"Not an angel, no," He confirmed instead, his shoulders finally relaxing a portion of their tension, now that Henry had dropped the satchel and its hideous contents. He could still feel the thing, raging against his own magic that still surrounded it, but its strength was weakening now that it no longer had a connection to Henry's hand. "But I could not sit back and let an innocent man be harmed in such a way, not when something as simple as my words might help prevent it."

"I heard about the planned ritual some months ago, the Cult of the Dragon are not so sneaky and mysterious as they think themselves to be. I began to investigate, following rumors and clues... and on occasion interrogations. A great many of the cult's lower members are willing to give up information for a few coins... or a confident threat." The simplified version of events, perhaps, but still true at least.

"The bookkeep is but one of many of the Cult, they are surprisingly prolific, and found tucked into most cities, here and there. Most are... well, perhaps not harmless, but often inept and complacent. This particular cohort however... has ambition, as you see." Khaeryx grimaced briefly, but the remaining tension he carried finally bled away, and the ball of magic he'd placed around Henry's satchel at last faded. It seemed the immediate magical danger had passed, at least for now.

"Thank you. I usually make my own dresses, but I saw this one in the shop..." And she couldn't resist. It was often that she treated herself to something frivolous. She tried to be careful and frugal with her money. When she'd gone into town to stock up on some of the herbs she couldn't find in the woods, she couldn't help but wander into the seamstress' shop.

And. Well. Oops.