#isotg

"Are these... dragons?" he asked, watching as the three tiny things just sat there, evidently mesmerized by his eyes. "I don't... know," Valsig replied slowly. Geron said nothing at all. "They - I think those are banescales," Pox exclaimed, rushing over to see. "They look just like what they said in our old stories - but - they're extinct. They've been extinct for, I don't even know, hundreds upon hundreds of years." One of the creatures, the largest, seemed to be over its surprise and turned back to gnaw on the rambra's haunch. "What do we do with them?" Geron asked. "Might be banescales, might just be some dragon-looking creature - we have a lot of those." "I think they're hatchlings," Pox said, peering down at the two that were still focused on Ciron. "I think... if they had a parent around, we'd know by now." "We should probably take them," Ciron said. "It's what - it's what the caravan I was part of would do, anyway." "More mouths to feed," Valsig sighed, then shrugged. "But sure, why not. I'd like to know what these things are, might be quite the discovery."

But otherwise, who wants a pen pal?

Pox walked ahead of them, though not by far. Ciron still didn’t know what to make of her behaviour, or even why she was there at all. Geron and Valsig obviously knew the way to whatever ruin they were headed to - even correcting the silent skydancer whenever they felt she was veering the wrong way. It was rare for either of the massive dragons to acknowledge him at all, aside from a few sideways glances. The sky was as dark and unreadable as when they left, but he was certain they’d been walking for hours through the ash and lifeless scrub. Hunger had begun to gnaw at him, but the young pearlcatcher thought it better to wait for his colossal retainers to make the call to stop. He wasn’t particularly eager to eat more dried seaweed anyhow. There was more distant rumbling, and the ground beneath his feet subtly shifted with it. Pox staggered, more from alarm than actual loss of balance, and Valsig pressed his long thumbclaw against her back to urge her along. “Keep going, girl. No shelter here.” Geron snorted in amusement as the skydancer stumbled forward, thrown off balance by the ridgeback’s nudge. She caught herself quickly and resumed walking, this time at a more hurried pace. “How much further now?” Ciron finally asked, if only to get their attention off of her. “I don’t see any sign of ruins to the north.” “I can see ‘em now,” Valsig replied, nodding toward what looked like nothing more than a subtle hill far on the horizon. Ciron squinted, trying to make out any more detail - but the sky was so murky that it blended near seamlessly with the ground. “It’s a cave?” he finally asked. “Nah,” the ridgeback laughed in a quick, unpleasant bark. He paused, and then added in a more thoughtful tone: “…Well, it basically is now. The ashfall’s really covered all the rubble up. And we’ll be looking for buried caches - ” “I already told you there’s nothing there!” Pox snapped, exasperation clear in her tone. “And why in Sornie would we believe you?” Geron replied, his deep, rumbling voice sounding bored. “Your clan was well-established, and any clan that lasts for so long has stores of food, medicines…” “Probably some nice stashes of treasure, too,” Valsig chimed in. Pox stayed turned away from them all, hiding her expression, though Ciron saw her wing feathers ruffle in the same way Saerun’s did when she was holding something back. The great mound of ash loomed ahead, with Ciron gradually starting to make out hints of ruined buildings poking out toward its edges. Similarly, he noticed that the skeletons of trees dotting the area were set in unnatural patterns, as if they’d been carefully planted there. Valsig took the lead for the first time since they’d left, spreading his wings and fanning them to dislodge what ash he could. Ciron could only blink in surprise as the sheer vastness of the destroyed village became evident; even the uncovered portion dwarfed any other settlement he’d seen. He stepped forward to get a better look, only realizing he’d come shoulder to shoulder with Pox when he heard the skydancer let out something between a cough and sob. He carefully glanced sideways, inspecting the look on her face. The grief she wore was plain to see, at least until she noticed him and it changed to stoicism - mixed with some anger at him being so close to her. There was an awful scraping and shifting that took both their attention, and Ciron saw with some surprise that Valsig and Geron had lifted a massive segment of fallen wall and were in the process of bracing it against one of the few support pillars left standing in the ruined town. A few more minutes of them hauling rubble and the colossal lean-to seemed to be secured, not shifting at all when Valsig gave it a strong shove. Still, Ciron eyed it warily: it would easily crush several dragons his size should it collapse. “That’ll do,” Valsig stated, sharing a quick, pleased nod with Geron. His smile remained, but darkened as he turned to the two smaller dragons. “Come over, highness, girl. We’ll take a quick lunch, and then it’s time for some digging.”

Life went on. Reika and Tarot built their forge, and soon the clan's extant weapons were strengthened, and new ones were built from the ores Marshall had carefully excavated. Seasons came and went, the children grew to be hunters and warriors in their own right, and new ones were born as well. They had become a proper clan, self-sustaining for the mostpart, and strong in numbers. There had been talks of naming it as well. They still searched, most certainly. They always kept an eye out for any hint of Ciron when they could, but over time the urgency waned. Priorities shifted. Everyone had moved on, for the mostpart. Though, not Saerun. It hadn't been the same since that day, and even Edan rarely saw her now. She spent days at a time away from their home, and hardly spoke when she was present - though she always brought back whatever food and supplies she'd picked up along the way. Occasionally, they'd share her and Ciron's old room on those nights. Simply existing in the same space, on opposite beds. He wasn't sure if it was how she was... mourning, for a lack of better term, embarrassment, or something else, but he could feel they were drifting apart. It hurt, but there wasn't much to be done about it. It felt like at some point, she simply wouldn't return at all. Some part of him was saying it was time he moved on, too.

The first thing he was aware of was a dull, flickering light. Veldr didn't know why his heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, even as he opened his eyes and found that he couldn't focus them at all. He tried to raise his head and his vision swam, the light suddenly splitting into dozens of separate points and dancing mockingly around him as he dropped back down. It was all at once far too bright, and his head was pounding. Why couldn't he remember anything? For a brief moment, he wondered if he was hung over - but the moment he tried to stand and felt that same white-hot pain shoot through his entire body, he knew something else was wrong. "Well, what do you know?" an unfamiliar voice remarked. He couldn't see whoever spoke at all, even as his vision stopped swimming. He could finally tell he was lying facing a lantern in an otherwise fairly dark room. "How are you feeling?" the voice asked, and Veldr tried again to sit up and see who was speaking - only to immediately collapse once more. "I really wouldn't try that right now," the speaker said. "I wasn't sure you'd pull through at all, with how ripped apart you were - let alone the uh, poison." "Wh -" Veldr stammered before vague memories of the previous event began to come to him. He tried again to stand as panic overtook him. "Where's Bell?" "For Keeper's sake, your fae friend's fine! She finally fell asleep not long ago," the voice hissed, clearly exasperated. "She'd been keeping vigil nonstop since I dragged you here, so stop thrashing around before you wake her or make yourself worse!" Veldr settled, his last shred of energy fading away as relief overtook him. "Who are you?" he asked, suddenly aware that even his throat hurt. He groaned, furrowing his brow and trying to blink his vision into focus. He finally saw a figure approaching from the gloom, revealed to be draconic and mostly purple in colouration as she reached lantern light. She was mostly pearlcatcher-shaped. "My name is Elysium," she said, and he flinched at how suddenly bright green eyes met his own. He heard swirling liquid as she held out what he presumed was a crude clay cup. "Can you hold this, or will you need help?" "You're a nature dragon?" he asked. She just gave him a quizzical look and pushed the cup into his talon. "It'll taste a bit muddy. It's fine though, I boiled it," she shrugged. "Not much fresh water out here." It was more difficult to bring the cup to his mouth than he'd expected - his muscles simply didn't want to work, burning with each slight movement - but Veldr drank it all down. The taste hit him afterward and he shuddered, dragging his tongue against his teeth to try and scrape the residue off. "Yea, I know," Elysium said, sympathy in her tone. "You need it though, you must be horribly dehydrated." Veldr managed a grunt in reply as he set the cup down next to him. He still felt like his skull was about to split. "How long was I out for?" he asked, shutting his eyes to try and manage the pain. "About a day and a half, I think," she replied. "I've only gone to the surface briefly so I'm not positive. We needed most of that time to put you back together though, honestly. You're lucky you weren't awake for that." They were both silent for a few minutes after that, Veldr lying there weakly as he felt the other dragon's eyes on him. After some minutes passed, she spoke again. "...How did you do it, anyway?" "Do what?" he asked thickly, opening his eyes to find Elysium staring with unnerving fascination. "Kill them," she replied, gesturing vaguely as if that was all the elaboration he needed. "What?" "The serthis!" she said incredulously. "They were all just... dead around you in a ring, and I couldn't see a scratch on any of them. What did you do?" Veldr opened his mouth, let out an uncertain noise, and shut it again. "I... didn't do anything." Elysium now looked just as confused as he felt. "Maybe... something else came by and... killed them?" he suggested, though he knew that was just as ludicrous. "The fae said she could hear serthis talking, and uh, stabbing, and then there was a bright light and it all went silent," Elysium said slowly. "There's no way something else showed up and then ran off before she got there." "I don't know," Veldr said helplessly. "I really don't - that doesn't make sense." "Damn it. I was hoping you knew some way to - I don't know... they've all been acting crazy since the eruptions started. They used to just keep to their territory and warn you away, but now..." Elysium let out a harsh sigh and reached to take his cup. "Don't worry about it for now. I've been picking your brain when you need rest. Just... try to sleep. I need to, too." She stood, setting the cup on a small slab of wood Veldr could just make out before vanishing into the gloom just beyond.

"Hey, d'you think you're coming out?" Rorin's voice came, reedy as always in spite of being muffled through the wooden door. "Things are starting up out here." Saerun frowned, pulling her legs in closer and resting her head on her arm, idly twirling the wine bottle held loosely in her hand. She could tell he was right; she could smell freshly cooked food, baked bread, and some sort of sweet confection she couldn't quite identify. Aside from that, she was fairly sure she could hear singing from just outside the house. One of Solveig's kids, she presumed - nobody she knew sounded like that. Evidently, Ila had chosen to throw a proper party that evening. That certainly didn't appeal to her. She'd never been a fan of parties, especially not in her adult life; the sounds and crowds had always made her uneasy. Even among friends as she was, the thought of either dragging everyone's mood down with her, or pretending everything was fine was exhausting, to say the least. And those were certainly the only options. Briefly, she wondered how many others were just going through the motions. She could feel the anxiety that simmered in the clan, though she'd not been out to put faces to it, or to pinpoint the reasons why. "...I'd love to eat dinner with you," Rorin added, barely audible. At that, she couldn't hold back a derisive snort. Good lord, you have no idea. No idea how little you actually want that, she thought with bitter amusement - though it quickly faded as she felt the echo of his hurt pass through, shooting down her antennae like an electric shock and leaving the vague but unignorable feeling of being slapped in the face. Guess he heard her. It proved her point, really. Still, she couldn't help but feel slightly bad at the fact. "I'll pass," she replied, her own voice thicker and words more slurred than she expected. She cleared her throat. "...Thanks, though." "'Kay," Rorin replied, still with that strained, quiet tone she had to strain to hear over everything else. He was quiet for some minutes after that, but she could tell he hadn't actually left. Haphazard mixes of frustration, confusion, and even jealousy leeched in through the door. It would have been somewhat disconcerting if she wasn't becoming so annoyed by the whole affair. "...Edan is back," he finally said, his voice tense and a bit louder than before. "I'm sure he'd like to see you." So that's what this is, she thought, at once angered and amused by whatever this boy had concocted in his own mind. She certainly didn't feel bad for him anymore. She wasn't sure whether she was going to shout at him or laugh in response until she opened her mouth, but it turned out to be the latter. "Well, tell him he's free to come visit if that's true." Finally, the young mirror left, his heavy footfalls disappearing into the distant party murmur and music. Saerun felt a bit lighter as the miasma of his foul mood finally dissipated. She wasn't sure how she felt about him anymore. All her former hunting companion had been doing recently was getting on her nerves; trying to get closer in a way that made her want to... she didn't really know how to put it. Yell at him? Chase him off. Peel off her skin? Something in that range. She didn't need to be an empath to be aware of his annoying little crush - as if the pleading and possessiveness didn't give it away - but it had been easier to play dumb. Until recently, anyway. Still, she couldn't fathom why he did. Slim pickings, probably. Mixed with some... grotesque hero complex. It disgusted her, but she supposed why didn't matter much. She lay back, taking a long swig from the bottle and, once more, laughing bitterly to herself. No accounting for bad taste, after all.

One thing Veldr noticed was, he wasn't really that scared, all things considered. It didn't make much sense. At least, not compared to how he usually responded to such things. Such obvious danger. Pain. Such complete lack of escape route. But instead he felt somehow removed from the situation. As if he were observing some stranger who happened to wear his face as a veritable army of serthis closed in. He didn't call out; didn't tell Silverbell to run, save herself. He figured she knew to do so. Come to think of it, she had a better chance of making it out if he didn't alert the beastfolk to her presence, anyway. Dully, he considered how everything had gotten so strange since the volcano began erupting. How much more aggressive every living thing had become. They'd just been looking for shelter. His legs began to buckle, and he swayed to the side. Another spear pierced near his shoulder in immediate response, and he caught a whiff of something acrid as he turned to look. Ah, that's why, he thought, watching as a pale orange fluid dripped from where he had been pierced. Venom. He was shutting down. It might've even been numbing him. Hard to say. He buckled fully, shutting his eyes as the sound of rushing wind overtook his senses. He mostly just felt tired, really. Perhaps this was okay. He was free, he'd done something worthwhile - even if it was small - and now he was going to just... fall asleep. Even as the side of his face met the ground, he still felt so dizzy. Soon, all he could feel was the vertigo, exhaustion, and the warm earth beneath him. And then a peculiarly cold hand on his stomach, and then - He tried to scream, but whatever came out wasn't sound. Not drool or vomit either, but even if he'd been in his right mind he wouldn't have been able to figure out what. Maybe if he could see, but even then the sudden shift from numbness to white-hot pain in his gut made that doubtful. The next few minutes, or perhaps few dozen minutes, were a blur. He couldn't understand what happened. He might've been convulsing. He still couldn't see, or hear much of anything. But nothing else touched him, nothing else moved at all, until he felt a familiar scrabbling of something small and draconic against his back. "What... d - ...you do" The words faded in and out, in spite of lacking any intonation. It was Bell. He felt a vague pinching along his abdomen as skin and flesh attempted to mesh back together, spurred by magic. He felt his bones shift without his consent - and then slip back out of place. The little fae shuddered. "I can't fix it." He managed a slight nod. "You should go," he managed somehow, the words ripping thickly from his throat. "But where." He didn't have an answer. The lands had become hostile, and the eruptions weren't stopping. He couldn't begin to think of which way to go. He couldn't think. Bell started, let out a shout. He heard the fae call out in alarm, and then heard something else. Was it the serthis? What had happened to them, anyway? In what he presumed would be his final words, Veldr swore bitterly.

Night was falling. Below them, jagged crags of rock cast long shadows against vast stretches of barren, parched earth. They’d cleared the forest hours ago, and were headed in the general direction of the crumbling Pillar that still towered over all else. They were nowhere close to it, of course. They were still far from the light of any other inhabited villages or townships, and so they would remain. In the dim light, Edan could make out two long, deep, curved lines gouged side-by-side into the cracked dirt below. They continued on far out of view, forming two large circles, one within the other. He motioned to Solveig and pointed them out. “Do you see it?” The pearlcatcher nodded. “They signify condemned ground,” Edan stated, swallowing back the sick feeling rising in his stomach. “We’re almost there. Do. Not. Land. Under any circumstances.” “I… yes,” Solveig replied, looking back at him with wide eyes. “Follow me, and circle when I circle,” the mirror instructed, his voice strong in spite of the dread filling him. “There will be… ruins, I imagine. I’ve not been here in… a long time.” The next few minutes of flight were silent, Edan hardly breathing as he strained to hear any sign of movement below them. His second sight was useless here: there was no body heat to track. Finally, far below, he saw what they’d come there for. “This was my home,” he said quietly, drifting close to the pearlcatcher as he spoke, then breaking off to circle the crumbling remains of a tiny village. A few houses still stood, though their clay walls and wooden roofs were worn down by years of enduring the elements without any care. His stomach twisted around itself as he flew, watching breathlessly for any movement below. He couldn’t be relieved to not see anything at first: that would just mean they’d wandered. But then, something crawled out of one of the husks of a home. It was draconic in shape, certainly. But the sick, halting way it moved was enough to hint that there was no sapience left in its body. He couldn’t recognize who it was, and silently thanked the gods for it. If he looked long enough at the clothes still clinging to its emaciated form, though, he knew he would. He looked away, instead focusing on the macabre shadow it cast as it dragged itself out of the gloom. He could see every bone wherever the fabric didn’t cover, watch its jaw move as if snapping at prey just ahead, held together by sinews and the remnants of magic that once coursed through the dragon’s veins. Once, it could have been one of his siblings, or his father, he didn’t know. He was so grateful he didn’t know. He looked back toward Solveig, who was flying erratically. The pearlcatcher made a beeline toward him, their fearful, pleading eyes reflected briefly in the moonlight. Edan nodded and turned, flying away from the remains of his childhood home, the pearlcatcher flitting frantically after him. They didn’t stop until they reached the edge of the forest hours later. Edan scanned the area, and then turned to Solveig. He did his best to stay stern. Strong, in spite of how devastating the trip had been. “Solveig,” he addressed, holding his head high as he looked down at the pearlcatcher. They seemed so young, then. Frightened, like the day he found them. “That is what happens when you aren’t careful. That is what happens when you slip for even a moment.” “I don’t - I don’t understand, I still don’t - ” Solveig replied, their voice wavering. “What was that, Edan? What happened to that mirror? The town?” “When I was young, younger than you are now,” Edan began, glancing back out toward the open expanse of the Plateau. “I was part of a clan. Son of one of the leaders, in fact. There were about… thirty of us, I think. But we were all family, blood or otherwise. There was a hunter. A guardian named Kvel. He was stronger than either of us, bigger than that lady friend of yours, and so… so kind. We all loved him, me and my siblings. He babysat us when we were younger.” “And he…?” “He dragged himself home to us one day,” Edan sighed. “Serthis got the better of him. He had half a dozen spears lodged between his belly plates. We had healers, like you. They all teamed together to save him, dragged him into our medical hut.” “And they failed,” Solveig finished, their voice sympathetic, but still confused. “It was… worse than that, Sol,” Edan shook his head. “My father had been out with another hunting party. When he came home and heard the news, he rushed in to check on how things were going. Then all hell broke loose. The building collapsed, and Kvel came barreling out of it. There were still… pieces… of our healers stuck to him. He’d crushed them all. I didn’t see my father after that, but I heard him screaming to us that Kvel was dead, didn’t have a heartbeat.” Solveig’s mouth was agape. “He… just kept rampaging through town after that,” Edan continued, trying to force himself to finish the story, even as his voice began to shake. “Like he was blind, frenzied. If someone got in his way, he’d rip them apart. If someone screamed, he’d… it was like he wanted to stop the noise. I saw my siblings die when my mother tried to take us and run. I saw the hunters fall as they tried to take down something several times their size that didn’t feel pain anymore. I saw everything torn apart as my mother grabbed me and flew for the horizon.” “Why did that happen to him?” Solveig asked, their voice a frightened whisper. “When my mother died, that was… that was it.” “You can’t know who will…” Edan paused, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. He was shaking, and he hated it. “Sometimes the magic doesn’t leave us when we go. It keeps going, without any… without any soul to guide it. It makes us feral. It’s more likely if the death is sudden. That’s why Kvel… rose. That’s why one of my clanmates is still out there. That’s why… when the grief and exhaustion took my mother, all I had to do was bury her.” The two dragons looked at each other in silence. A long and painful acknowledgement of shared loss. “I need you to trust me, Solveig,” Edan finally stated, breaking the silence. “You are… my family, now. You’re my child. That’s what you are to me. I’ve been trying to just shut it off, but I can’t. I’m terrified of losing you - I can’t… I can’t handle the thought of any of you winding up like… like that. I promise I’m just trying to protect you. I just want you to be safe. I need you to trust me.” “I’m sorry, Edan,” the pearlcatcher breathed. It was impossible to see any detail in the darkness at that point, but judging by their voice, they were crying. “I’ve been so stupid. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” “Probably should have just told you sooner,” Edan replied, letting out a particularly broken-sounding chuckle. Or maybe it was a sob. Gods, he felt so weak then. “It’s just… so damn hard to talk about it. Might have to ask you to relay it to your sister at some point.” Solveig responded by slumping forward, their head resting against his shoulder. Edan jumped at the motion, then draped a wing around the shaking pearlcatcher’s back. “Come on, Sol, you’re gonna make me start crying and someone needs to navigate.” “I - I’m sorry,” the pearlcatcher replied, letting out a weak laugh. “I trust you, Edan. I’ll be more careful from now on, I promise.” “I’m gonna hold you to that promise,” Edan replied, patting the pearlcatcher’s back before pulling away. “Come on, let’s go home. I’m so damn tired.” “Be-before that,” Solveig said, looking nervous once more. “No more secrets, so there’s one more thing. Praz and I, we - ” “If you’re going to tell me you’re a couple that’s really not a secret - ” “No, a nest. We have a nest. We’re going to have kids.” “A - ” Edan blinked, then went completely still. He shook his head. “O… kay. So. I don’t… have the energy to… think about that right now. Thank you… for telling me. Let’s go home.”