#iskal

The architects added support beams, Tayio and Arriella constantly scenting the air for signs of enemies. Molan, his electrical work done for now, lent his support, his massive size excellent for holding up things as beams were replaced. The slightest rumble underfoot halted them, wary of another earthquake like the one that had heralded the sudden expansion of the Crystalspine reaches.

Pan was running the guards and gladiators through various exercises, the pearlcatcher anxiously rolled his pearl in his hands as he shouted instructions, Colrath and Shadowclaw clashing in a training match.

Not far off, the twin blacksmiths ran the bellows, repairing all weapons and armor, Dominick tossed scrap metal to Belemus, his sister immediately set to work melting it down into something useable.

The mages swarmed the inside and outside of the lair, various elements shot into the air as they cast spells and laid wards. Iskal could see their heat signatures as they darted around.

His daughter darted past him with a nod, she and the other hunters had returned from yet another hunt, the Clan sought to stockpile as much food as possible, Abeliene was working her nature magic to work her already lush garden into a constant source of food. Aegean was constantly in the bay, hauling back as much fish as the imperial could catch.

Honestly what was keeping them running though was the artisans Asides from Dawn, dedicated as ever to her duty as Clan scribe, they’d all thrown themselves into work. Rose and Cornflower set aside their paint and prose to help Aegean. Myria sang as the architects worked, the sound reached Iskal where he perched watching his Clan prepare for what could very well be the apocalypse.

Yuniver streaked by, the messenger shouted something that Iskal took to be a greeting, the spiral headed for where Shalestone and Faolan had set up, the diplomats working to check on every alliance they had and make sure that the other Clans were standing and offering aid, and seeking it.

“Iskal!” Andric sprinted past the fight ring Pan had set up, Tyrath hard on his heels, leaping up the wall to join Iskal on the roof, “Iskal, we have reports. It’s true. There’s an emperor.”

A chill ran down Iskal’s spine, “where.”

“It hasn’t escaped the Sunbeam Ruins.” The yet went unsaid, Tyrath looked frantic, Iskal gently ran his hand over the hatchling he was holding.

“Tell Shalestone and Faolan,” he ordered, his grandson relaxed as Iskal assumed control, “our first priority should be offering aid to our allies in Light, Shadow and Nature.” He stretched his wings slightly to help balance him, “shh little one.”

The Fae hatchling in his hands chirped once, splaying its frills, Isakl watched as it grew warmer as it got frantic, gently he soothed it, looking up to Andric and Tyrath, “continue to scout the borders, ask Birch and Felar to help you.”

Andric nodded and signaled for Tyrath to follow him, the two bounded over to Shalestone. Iskal watched his mate and Faolan’s alarm, before Shalestone nodded and turned to her apprentice, the two of them scribbling out letters.

Iskal looked down at the fae hatchling, “don’t you worry, we’ll figure something out.”

“You believe that?” For a moment Iskal almost thought that the hatchling had spoken, but that was Beacon’s voice, from behind him.

“I do,” he replied as his grandson stepped forward, his deformed wings pressed against his back, emerald green eyes surveying the Clan.

“What is happening,” he asked, looking to Iskal for guidance like always, “the elements are roiling, and our territory keeps shifting. I heard what Uncle Andric told you, about the Emperor.”

Iskal sighed softly, “I don’t know. Nothing like this has happened before as far as Dawn, Oz or I could find.” And they’d searched the scrolls. “Are you alright?”

“I’m scared,” Beacon admitted quietly, Iskal rested his tail against his heir’s flank.

“I know. I am too,” he admitted, and Beacon didn’t even know the terrifying thing Larimar had told him and Shalestone. The Clan Prophet hadn’t heard the Tidelord in days.

“But it is our job to guide our Clan through it, whatever it is.” Iskal gestured with the hand that wasn’t holding the hatchling, “and look. Our Clanmates are preparing. Remember the Clan motto.”

“Formed as many, now as one,” Beacon recited, Iskal smiled.

“Good. Many Flights, Many Dragons, One Clan,” Iskal offered the hatchling to Beacon, who gently took the small fae into his hands, cooing gently to it, “and life still goes on Beacon.

Beacon looked at his Clanmates, Iskal hoped he saw what he did, the Clan working as one to survive these uncertain times, and then down at the hatchling, the hope for the future.

“Tell me how to lead them,” Beacon looked to Iskal with new certainty, his grandfather smiled at him.

Their moment was interrupted by a stranger landing in the middle of the assembled dragons, everyone turning to look at the orange, green and purple dragon standing in the middle of the lair.

“Nela?” Iskal asked, incredulous at the sight of his grand-daughter, one who’d left to serve the Arcanist, this was almost as surprising as the Emperor itself descending on his lair, “w-what…”

“Omph.” He missed, what he’d thought was a skink, and landed painfully on the ground, his feet sliding out from under him so he landed on his stomach.

Someone was laughing, and he lifted his head to see another mirror standing over him. She was a bit taller than him, and she looked rather amused at his landing. At least she hadn’t thought he was attacking her.

“Are you alright?” she asked as he got to his feet.

“Yeah, just bruised my pride,” he flinched as he rubbed his chest, “and maybe my ribs.”

She laughed again, and he had to as well. “I’m sorry, I think I mistook your tail for a skink’s.”

She waved him off, “you’re fine.” She smiled gently at him, “no harm done. Or well, harm done only to yourself.”

He shrugged, “not used to hunting by myself.”

“You’re on you’re own?” she asked, looking around, “I was kind of wondering where your pack was.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Iskal pointed out, the other shrugged.

He sighed, “if I”m being honest, I’m hoping to make this my territory.” He’d found a small set of caves, ones that would be safe, secure, and a good place to begin building his Clan.

“You’re planning to settle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“But of course, it’s just me right now, so...”

the female dragon hummed thoughtfully, “it sounds like you aren’t planning to make your own pack.”

“I want something different,” he admitted, looking away to gaze out over the reaches, how the stones glistened pink in the sun, “I wanted a place where dragons from various Clan’s gathered and shared knowledge.” When he’d been young he’d always asked questions, about other Flights, other territories, other dragons, he’d wanted to see everything, know everything.

“My pack always said I had the Arcanist’s curiosity, so I thought I’d settled where he could keep an eye on me,” he joked, they both smiled. He noticed she was staring at him though.

“What?”

“It just seems like there’s more to you than that,” she mused, still studying him.

“I’m just overly curious,” he shrugged, “and I figured making a Clan would be the best way to learn more about the world. Let others come to you.”

“Bring and share their knowledge,” she agreed, Iskal perked up, yes that was what he meant, “and together become greater than the sum of their parts.”

“Yes!” his eyes lit up, “I want to see what a group of dragons together can become!” It was an experiment almost, would it work? Would it fall apart? Or would his Clan become something even he couldn’t have imagined? He just wanted to know.

“Then I want in.”

“What?” he stared at her in surprise, but she was unwavering.

“I’ve lived around here most of my life, and I want to know what’s out there. I want to meet dragons from all over, and you seem to have a plan,” she paused and continued, “and plus, we’re both alone, so why not? Two is better than one.”

Iskal grinned, “I can’t really argue with that.” And to be honest it was getting lonely with only the stone’s for company. “I’m Iskal.”

“Shalestone.”