"Power and consequence are always intertwined."

click,   clack.   teacup   hopped   closer   to   their   guest   as   he   talked.   she   looked   over   his   clothes,   a   nimble   beak   darting   forward   to   shift   his   lapel   so   she   could   spot   any   hidden   necklaces.   perhaps   she   was   even   looking   for   a   spellbook   like   her   wizard's.   briar   gave   a   nervous   glance   from   her   to   khaeryx,   ready   to   recall   her   if   the   other   gave   any   indication   he   wanted   her   to   stop.

“    y-   yes,   ah   .   .   .    ”        should   he   make   up   a   lie   on   the   spot   or   tell   the   truth?   he   wanted   to   visit   the   feywild.   it'd   prep   him   for   the   journey   he   was   most   interested   in   —   the   depths   of   the   hungry   forest.   but   as   much   as   he   liked   this   stranger,   he   was   still   that.   what   would   happen   if   khaeryx   told   others   that   a   boy   of   briar's   description   had   an   interest   in   the   fey?

"A... dangerous ambition," he remarked diplomatically, "Though I concede an understandable one. They're fascinating places, with fascinating inhabitants." His hands turned upward, a silent invitation for Teacup to hop onto his arms, to explore his collar where indeed thin silver chains and braided leather chords draped silver and bronze amulets, charms, and colorful beads of polished stones around his neck and over his chest beneath the sapphire blue brocade and sky light linen of his robes.

"Perhaps then, you're in just the right place, if that is an ambition you're serious about. Candlekeep houses many a wizard, and you will either need to befriend or become a powerful wizard or sorcerer in pursuit of that endeavor. Surviving an encounter with an elemental, either summoned here or taking a portal there, is no small feat." At least this fortress was good for something beyond books then, if it really was such a strong desire for Briar. An easier time than trying to find an in with some Blackstaff faculty that thought themselves too important to help anyone but a paying student with something educational. And if Briar was going to do something like this, at some time anyway, this was as good a place as any to begin training and education towards it.

And still.

"Your heritage is an important part of you. I'd not be who I am if I wasn't raised by the pack, if I never met Esca, if I'd been able to grow up with my human family."

Who would that person be? She didn't know. There were too many possibilities for her to say for certain. She couldn't even remember much from her earliest life save the most traumatic point. Maybe she could have been a lot of things. Maybe destiny would have her walk a path until she arrived in roughly the same destination no matter the starting point. She'd not be her, though. She'd be a different person with different opinions, likes, dislikes, and dreams. That Morren would be unrecognisable.

Morren's golden eyes finally turned from the flames to Khaeryx. With his hands clasped in front of him, he looked almost penitent but his words showed he was stubbornly sticking to his decision. No matter what argument she used, she doubted she would change his mind. After all, he had centuries on her most likely and was set in his ways.

"Who you are is not a result of your heritage, in that sense. It's not because of your blood. Does being human make you who you are?" His dark head shook slowly, "No. I do not believe so." He could not. "We are better than that. You are who you are because of your experiences, and your choices. And likewise, my blood is not what makes me who I am. I decide who I am."

Choices. It always came down to that. It always did, as he'd always seen, time and time again in his long life. The culture one was born to could have influence, but there were always choices. Just as he chose, in this moment, and every day.

"If my blood was all that I was, we would not be having this conversation at this moment. In the best case scenario, we would have never met. In the worst... I'd have long devoured you, and all of our companions along with you. But I choose not to do such things. I choose to only kill when necessary, I choose to help others when I can do so, I choose to be more than just 'what' I am."

He was... what was it that Wyll had called it? 'Speechifying'. 'Monologuing', Shadowheart would say. 'Rant' was perhaps more accurate. Khaeryx sighed; perhaps Morren would never understand.

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.