#ciavana

CW: blood, death, unreality/hallucinations

Lucco pressed a firm, comforting hand to Ciavana’s back, saying nothing as she fought through a piercing migraine in her skull. He knew nothing he said or did could relieve it, so he merely reminded her that he was still there, ready to hold her when she was ready.

Finally, as it passed, Ciavana collapsed into the stoney flank fo her mate. “I saw it again,” she panted. “Massive roots, cracking the world open like an egg--”

“It’s worse than before,” he murmured. She nodded, unshocked. He continued, “Do you still see the blood?”

“Always,” she whispered. The Tundra pressed her thumb into the meat of her paw and frowned. “It doesn’t wash off. I smell it, too, even when we sleep.”

“Have you asked Shimyra--”

Ciavana twisted to snarl at Lucco. “She will never understand what we’ve gone through. She enjoys the fruits of our labor and is grateful for none of it!”

The Guardian grimaced against the sudden abuse. Ciavana paused, then softened, leaning back into her beloved. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I still... I miss him. I miss Meir.”

“I know,” he rasped, voice cracking. As he put put his arm around his mate, his claws suddenly seemed wet with gore, and Ciavana -- beautiful, merciless Ciavana -- suddenly looked much more like his stone-faced daughter. He closed his eyes against the illusion and tried not to let his discomfort show. “I miss him, too.” 

CW: death, trauma/PTSD

From birth, hatchlings were taught that the outside was chaos, and the Oasis was order. No matter how scary the trials, or gory the sacrifices, nothing ever came unexpectedly or without purpose. 

Despite this, there were always a few youths stricken with a wanderlust that was dangerous to ignore. Their parents would always try to discourage them, but those who were unsuccessful reached out to the prophet leaders for guidance.

If Ciavana trusted Shimyra, she would have had concerned parents go directly to her, who lead the mass majority of expeditions. But she did not trust Shimyra, and she did not care to coddle blasphemous ideas that the outside was any better than home. 

Dropping the hammer too hard on a dragon’s curiosity of the outside world was a recipe for disaster, Ciavana knew. She and Lucco had been eager to travel the world, once, and nothing in the world had been able to stop them -- nothing, of course, except a near death experience and the exaltation of a god sprouting from blighted soil. 

As the saying goes: give a little, gain a lot. Instead, Ciavana would give the starry-eyed dragon an opportunity to shadow a group of expeditioners. “We’ll take ‘em on a simple run, give ‘em a chance to see what kind of work we do,” they’d tell the parents. 

“Take them to the Mire,” Ciavana would say once the nervous but assured parents left. Or, if she was feeling more malicious, she’d order them to the Forbidden Portal -- it depended on whether or not she expected the youth to come back in one piece.

Occasionally, the dragon would come back excited by the world they’d just seen, yet humbled enough by the dangers to relish being home. These dragons would sometimes still become expeditioners themselves, obedient and forever tethered to the Oasis. Most of the time, however, the dragon -- if they lived -- would return far-gazing and trembling, stricken by a horror they’d never known their entire life. They’d curl up to to their parents in the hut they’d hatched in, burying their face and tuning out the relieved coos of devout Oasis followers who couldn’t help but remark that they’d told him how dangerous the outside world was. 

Ciavana did not smile, or celebrate, or enjoy the victory. This plot, this correction, was nothing but a pin set back in its place. The ordeal finished, she dutifully set her eyes on the next. 

CW: near death experience, implied death, religious persecution, being hunted

Flying is one of the greatest joys a dragon can experience. Save a few exceptions, most dragons live half their life soaring through the sky while traveling, hunting, and enjoying existence. 

In the Oasis, flying is a privilege, not a right. While a dragon is free to glide and flit from tree to tree within its borders, full flight -- true flight -- was reserved for those trustworthy enough to leave the Oasis’s safety. 

This includes the heiress Shimyra, her mate Hithon, and their companions Fane and Wadro -- Hithon and Wadro are allies from outside the clan, and their cooperation is contingent on being allowed to come and go freely. Fane and Shimyra, assisted by the Oasis’s rare outside allies, are the foremost hunters and resource gatherers for the clan. 

Outside of royal exemption, the only other party allowed to fly outside the Oasis are members of the clan’s Hunt. The Hunt are a team of elite trackers who specialized in finding and retrieving heretics who leave the Oasis without permission. When runaways were scarce, the Hunt scans the wastelands for potential meals for their flesh-eating home. Boneyard residents could occasionally catch the Hunt circling the diseased sky, or whipping past in a piercing arrow formation. 

Prophets Lucco and Ciavana have not flown in decades. They hadn’t known the joy of flight since the day they had been shot out of the sky, left to die in the unforgiving scab of the Abiding Boneyard and barely rescued by the miracle of the Oasis. Since then, even a prolonged glance beyond the thick canopy of their forest was enough to bring on vertigo.