#niting

1. Huge mecha built from seafaring vessels in a post apocalyptic giant ocean monsters setting that sync so well with their human pilots that they can sometimes develop their own consciousness built off of the brains of said pilots, especially during and directly after traumatic events that hurt or kill the pilots. In the case that a pilot is killed oftentimes these mechs retain an uploaded intelligence and oftentimes this goes completely unbeknownst to Fucking Everyone. Anyway this brings up a bunch of super fun subscenarios like

a) what sort of feelings might someone who remembers their own death in vivid detail have about it now that they’re trapped in the body of a 400 ton robot?

b) do they need to grapple every day with whether or not they should reveal themselves to the humans around them?

c) would the humans accept them? Do the people in charge of the mech program know that their technology can do this?

d) what would a new human pilot feel like in their system now that they are a fully formed UI? Is it a struggle being hooked up to another separate brain?

2. MASSIVE planet-sized mecha that has tons of drones ranging from huge maintenance ones to smaller minigiant-sized drones meant to interact with organic life is just sitting in disrepair floating thru space like a freaking idiot. Until a scavenger comes along looking for parts! Many possibilities here.

a) Does the scavenger know what they’re looking at or are they just like cool! Now I have TONS of parts to sell

b) is the robot so damaged that not even it knows what’s up with its internals and it just uses one of its drones to be like Repairs Needed. Please.

c) would the scavenger bring others to help take the vessel apart? What if they figured out it was sentient and still alive somewhat after bringing others in?

d) what if the robot is more conscious than just broadcasting SOS and its need for repairs and tries to assign its drones different personalities so the scavenger just thinks they’re competing with other robotic scavengers until the ehe. Big reveal?

3. Minigiant mech built to protect a small human outpost on a previously uninhabited moon dealing with the daily humdrum of human researcher life after being an active combat fighter for a very long time. Much to discuss. Such as.

a) Robot PTSD.

b) Can robot and human ever truly be friends when they both fought in,,,,,,The War™️. jk they become lovers.

c) what if some aliens showed up. Wouldn’t that be fucked.

d) What are the humans researching and does it have ramifications for the robot ?

4. Whatever the hell bang bravern had going on.

a) please

b) please

c) please

d) it would be so funny

5. Small robot built to be companion to larger organic species witnesses the end of that species and comes across a cosmic entity that offers to take them away from the hollow shell of the planet they once knew to be home

a) robot ptsd (again!)

b) was home good? Was home ever good? Did they resent their creators?

c) are they reluctant to go? Do they think maybe if they wander the scorched and barren world they could maybe find another survivor like them?

d) what does the cosmic entity think about all this? Are they normally a passive observer? Did something motivate them to step out of that role? What are their fucking intentions?

6. Robots that was originally a huge war mech gets repurposed into a smaller model meant for educational playtime or whatever by the enemy. Fun things can occur here like

a) teaching kids about how to sabotage supply chains in subspace.

b) getting much more invested in the kid’s imaginary playtime world than they thought they would

c) adoption. That’s the robot’s organic freak of a child now.

d) how to teach your baby warmonger advanced robotics.

March furrowed his brows and looked away. “Have I been that obvious?” he asked quietly.

Well, quietly for a human. The question still rattled Varka’s bones even in the lower gravity of his habsuite. The translator attached to her ear spat his rumbling language out as something she could understand. She nodded, tucking a few bioluminescent frills out of her face. Human faces were expressive, even when they weren’t the size of a billboard. “Painfully so. Now get over here so we can practice.”

He stood up slowly, continually asking if she was okay with each or his movements. She nodded and ignored the survival instincts screaming at her that an absolutely massive predator was coming her way. She ignored them as he set his hands down on either side of her. She ignored them as one of those massive hands slid towards her until it eclipsed her view of the room.

She rooted herself to the spot, repeatedly reminding herself that this was March. He’d been under her command for years now, she’d laughed with him, cried with him, they’d swapped stories of their families, she knew him.

Breathe in. He takes another step towards her.

It’s been fifteen years.

Breathe out. Another step.

He wasn’t a monster.

Breathe in. Another step.

He’s not a monster.

Breathe out. Final step.

He sure as shit didn’t need her to flinch right now. She sucked in a deep breath and looked up, gulping nervously when she realized he wasn’t looking at her. His upper body towered over her, a wide expanse of fabric covering a muscled torso larger than most megastructures back home. It reminded her of the first time she made contact with humans.

———

There were five of them touring the utterly massive server complex where she used to dataweave subspace networks. She knew they were coming, it was all anyone could talk about, but she didn’t ever sort out when. Thinking it wouldn’t affect her work, she kept plugging away at algorithmic data categorizations within one of the crystal storage silos that ran along the walls of the temperature controlled, man-made cavern.

Every once in a while a transport vehicle would thunder past her, tossing her hair around her facd and blasting her with the roar of its engine. She was so used to this phenomenon that she barely noticed anything amiss until the house-sized crystal she’d been making adjustments to began to move. Two massive, fleshy…things were grabbing it on either side, gently wiggling the whole crystal out of its socket. Normally it’d take a team of workers hours to maneuver these crystals onto huge transport buses, but whatever held it now was doing the job in less than a minute.

The crystal was pulled away entirely, and in its stead was the largest eye she’d ever seen. Varka screamed and prayed to the gods that whatever it was would make her death quick and painless. The skin around the eye creased, making an expression caught between bemused and sheepish. Everything around her shook with the weight of the alien’s nervous laughter. A few moments later the eye pulled away, and the crystals that surrounded her silhouetted what she recognized as the face of a human woman with dark brown hair tied in braids and bright, ochre eyes. The huge being smiled apologetically, holding up the datacrystal as if asking for permission to put it back.

She was gorgeous. Why had no one told her that humans were pretty? All anyone talked about was how terrifyingly huge they were, no one prepared her for the prettiest alien monster she’d ever seen in her life. She mentally kicked herself for not looking it up beforehand. Varka slapped her cheeks a few times to snap herself out of it. She a deep breath and looked up at her, pointing to the now-empty port and then the crystal. “Put it back, please!” she shouted, unsure of whether or not the human could even hear her. She seemed to get the message, though, getting closer until the only thing Varka could see was the crystal and the appendages holding it. The crystal locked itself in place with a loud click and it flushed blue to indicate a successful reconnection to the network. Through the small window of space between crystals, she caught the human woman waving to her, followed by her four colleagues. Each one of them turned to look at her, and every time she met their gaze she froze up.

That was possibly the most intense experience of her life. She would be perfectly content if she never had to do that again.

Unfortunately, the gods had a pretty sick sense of humor.

Later that night, her supervisor informed her she was invited to the human ship, and that she should be grateful for the opportunity. “Humans open a lot of doors, Ms. Careti, you should accept their offer.” What was she supposed to do? Refuse the terrifying giants and incur their terrible wrath? So here she was, pacing back and forth outside an airlock built for smaller species. It still managed to dwarf her. She fidgeted with the buttons on the only work jumpsuit she had that wasn’t stained with coolant, messed with her fronds in the reflective dark screen of the unlit terminal, and dithered back and forth on whether or not to push the electric blue call button. She hissed and let out a small “Fuck it.” under her breath, slamming the button before she could think twice about it.

The screen flickered to life in an instant. The human onscreen looked shockingly…normal. His features were still alien, but he looked similar to a number of other bipedal mammalians she’d see walking around the station. The only difference they shared now was their skin tone and his distinct lack of fronds. “Hey!” the human grinned, waving excitedly, “Jada’s really sorry about scaring you, by the way.”

“IS SHE HERE?” someone shouted from offscreen. The woman from before came careening into view, shoving the other human out of the way. Varka was again struck stupid by how stunning she was. Her braids floated around her face, and her excited smile made Varka’s stomach do backflips. If they were the same size when they met the first time, she was sure she’d have flirted a little. She brushed her hair out of her face and smiled at Varka. “Hi! Hi, hello, how are you? I am so sorry about the thing with the data crystal!” she said nervously, “And, uh, sorry for scaring you! I wasn’t thinking when I took that crystal, I just saw that it needed to be replaced and I hadn’t even considered that someone would be there doing maintenance already. If you want to stay out there it’s totally fine, but um, feel free to come inside!”

Another human off camera groaned. “I thought we weren’t—“

“We’re being polite!” she hissed, cutting them off, “A-Anyway, I’m Jada! The human you were talking to before is Alex, and the one currently being rude is Gamma. Reese and Carlin are…somewhere on the ship, probably doing maintenance. They were nervous, y’know?”

Xenia trudged through thick underbrush that tugged at her clothing, constantly threatening to trip her up as she carved a path through the woods. The map she held in her hands had yellowed with age, but the ink hadn’t yet faded to the point of unusability. She was looking for a castle, possibly the ruins of a castle, lost to time in a forest clearing nearby.

Legends told of a fierce battle fought eons ago between the lord of the manor and a dragon that had marked the area as its territory. She had corroborated sources with cross-referenced material from multiple historical archives before stumbling across a more detailed map of the area as it was back in the days of old. Of course, the legends were all different, but the thread of truth running between them always listed the location near the heart of Carthan Woods. It was quite possible that there would be clues in the charred remains that could give her more insight into the massive, nigh-extinct creatures that once ruled the earth.

The trees finally gave way to a rocky patch of ground that dipped steeply downward into a sprawling valley. She came to a halt at the edge of the outcropping, gasping when she caught sight of the burnt out donjon rising above the treetops. “It’s here! Luis, it’s right here!” she proclaimed, whooping with excitement.

Her travel companion was not faring nearly as well as she. Stinging nettles had ripped at his face and arms, and sweat drenched his entire upper body. He huffed, shrugging off his rucksack. Their supplies clattered to the ground, settling in a heap next to him. “We should turn back, Xen.”

Xenia cocked her head at him, “What? But Luis, we’re so close…”

“That structure is at least another few miles away on foot, not to mention the fact that we’d have to rappel down this cliff to do it. I’m telling you now, we either set camp here or go back to the tavern.”

“We’ve only been walking for two hours! The sun is still climbing—“

“And it beats down on us like an angry god, Xen!” Luis exclaimed, cutting her off, “Look, if you really want, I will leave the supplies with you, but I need creature comforts, dammit, and since I’m not making it to the castle, I am going back to the inn.”

Xenia’s nostrils flared. She bit back a comment about the cushy hearth of academia softening him into a fieldwork-failing dolt and looked away, “Fine, go. Take one of the waterskins with you, but leave the rest of the supplies with me. I will make it there today.” she said, tempering her voice lest she allow the pit of anger churning in her stomach to rise to the surface, “I will meet you back at the tavern, Ser Alcontes.”

He sighed, running a hand over his glistening, grimy face, “Xen, I—“

“You what?”

“Nothing. Fine.” he groaned, knowing she was far past the point of arguing. He unclipped a skin from the side of the huge rucksack and set off before things could turn into an all out fight.

Xenia sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders when he was finally out of sight. She couldn’t understand. They’d planned this for months, going on hikes to build endurance, pored over hundreds of books late into the night, and he’d never backed out of fieldwork like this before. She pulled some dried fruit and salt-cured meat out of her own satchel, biting down hard on the chewy material as she gazed across the valley at her destination.

When she was finished with her meal, she secured some of the rope they brought to a tree, gathered her supplies, and began her descent.

Abseiling down the cliff was fairly easy. They’d brought enough rope and she was an experienced climber. Her mother had constantly taken her to the beachside cliffs near her childhood home, and she’d learned from a young age which rocks would hold her weight and which would send her tumbling down into the churning sea below. She kept her eyes on the castle even as she slipped below the treeline, no longer able to see it between the massive pines that stood in her way.

There was no real path for her to follow anymore, and she doubted anyone had been out this way for a very long time. She used the small billhook sheathed at her waist to make quick work of some of the larger undergrowth, carving her way through the thick, shadowy forest. The sun crept through the sky as she crept through the forest, hanging low on the horizon by the time she reached the outer retaining wall of the fortress. She touched the large stone bricks, feeling an odd jolt of electricity course through her body when she made contact with it. Shaking it off as mere excitement at the prospect of discovery, she secured her rucksack, took a swig from the skin she’d refilled at the creek she crossed an hour ago, and began to climb.

The brick and mortar had been worn with time, aiding her ability to find handholds. The other side was packed with dirt that had eroded away, creating a slight drop from the wall to the ground. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the other side. When her feet hit the ground she paused. Something was off. The forest had gone silent, and a feeling of impending doom coiled itself deep within her core. She began trekking quickly towards the only remaining structure on this side of the wall, the burned out donjon. The white tower stood tall against the lush landscape surrounding it. Ruined ballistas peeked out from crumbling parapets in the dying light of the sun, a stark reminder of a lost age.

The door to the keep had caved in long ago. She stumbled over splintered wood and took in her surroundings. The singed frame of a cracked mirror sat to the left of the doorway, and the room opened up beyond the foyer into a proper lord’s hall. She took a deep breath, trying to still her quickening pulse when an ear-splitting roar cracked across the sky, followed by the flapping of a titanic set of wings. She covered her mouth to stifle a scream, hidden in the shadow of the old lord’s hall. An earth-shaking thud sent her to her knees. By the grace of the gods she managed to keep her supplies from spilling to the floor.

She caught a glimpse of the beast in the mirror shards strewn across the entryway. Its red scales glinted in the broken reflection, the entire hulking form rising high above the treetops even as it laid itself down amongst them.

She carefully repositioned herself and prepared to sit there for however long it took for the beast to be on its way. The last rays of daylight slipped from the dusky room, and with it went her only way of keeping an eye on the behemoth outside.

Xenia sighed after the tale had wrapped up. “It ends there. I like the Quarskal version better, personally. It ends less abruptly, y’know? And it doesn’t have the weird poem.” she asked, blinking when he stood up abruptly and started walking across the hall, “Where are you going?”

“There’s a moonstone hidden in here, somewhere.” he replied, feeling along the wall behind the dais at the end of the hall. “It has to be here.”

She stood up and joined him, “Your family’s treasure, you mean?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, “It’s a moonstone?”

“My wha—oh! Yes. That’s my family treasure!”

She gave him a suspicious look, but she shrugged his tone off as weird foreign prince nonsense, “Why do you think it’s here?” she asked, pressing her own palm to the wall.

“It’s where—um, I read, in another, uh, more detailed legend, that the noble family used to keep their coffers behind—“ he paused, looking at her hand. It was quickly growing brighter and brighter, and, much to his alarm, it appeared to be adhered to the wall. “Why are you glowing?”

She blinked up at him owlishly, “I’m…?” she paused, turning to her own hand, “Oh, goddesses, I’m glowing. Why am I glowing?”

“I just asked you that! Why would I know?”

“I don’t…I’m—it’s pulling me!” she shrieked, desperately trying to tug herself away from the wall. It didn’t work. Soon her arms were buried up to her elbows in the charred wood paneling, and then the rest of her body followed.

She gasped, falling back onto nothing in a plain, white space. The only things in the area were herself and a glittering gemstone that broke apart the bright light of the strange room, casting dazzling prismatic shadows along the faraway walls. The center of the huge gemstone had turned an unhealthy, ashen grey that let no light escape. She knew what it was immediately, and it certainly wasn’t a ‘family gemstone’.

This was a dragonlight, a concentrated vessel for draconic power only rumored to exist. It was a vessel imbued with dragonfire and ancient magic, but something was wrong with it. It was weakening, somehow. She didn’t understand how she even knew that, but she did understand that if she managed to bring this back to the university, she could write a few dozen theses. She could maybe even get a tenured position. She reached out for it, wrapping both hands around the gem, turned around to find herself back in the castle ruins. The smoke that clouded the rock’s interior nearly covered the entire surface now. She tapped it, feeling none of the warmth it carried moments earlier. Still, though, it was once a vessel. And that should be enough.

“Cass! Cassius, I found the relic! It’s a dragonlight! This could potentially be proof that some draconic beings do hold the spark of sentience, isn’t that exciting?”

A booming chuckle forced the childish sense of hopefulness from her mind, nearly sending her to her knees from its sheer magnitude alone. She heard words after the laugh but her brain was so muddled that she failed to understand them. The next thing she knew, a clawed hand the size of a cottage came crashing through one of the shattered bay windows. It sent broken glass flying across the entire hall as it began feeling around for something. Maybe her? It was entirely possible that poor Cassius was already in the beast’s grip, or worse.

All thoughts of the scholarly acclaim she’d receive from finding the dragonlight vanished in that moment.

Xenia awoke the next day to a crackling campfire near her feet. A tall, elegantly built man in a loose poet blouse hunched over it, using some of her supplies to fry up an egg. Dark eyes tracked her movements as she stirred and sat up, cracking her back a few times. “Who’re you…?” she asked groggily. She rubbed her bleary eyes and stood up, stretching the sleepiness from her body. “Why are you using my things, stranger?” she asked, unable to shake the feeling of forgetting something utterly groundbreaking from last night.

He gave her a non-response in the form of a question. “How do you like your eggs cooked, miss?”

“I…over easy?” She tilted her head at him, confusion clouding her mind for a moment until a flood of memories from last night came rushing back. “Th-The dragon.” she whispered.

The disorganized thoughts buzzing through her mind snapped into terrifying focus in an instant. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the morning light bleeding in through the doorway. He looked to her death grip on his wrist with mild amusement, letting her lead him deeper into the hall. She stopped under a broad, faded tapestry of a hunting party fighting against a lesser wyrm. “There was a dragon. A great dragon. Possibly ancient. W-We need to get so safety—“

“Madam, if there was truly a great dragon out there, I’m sure I would not have missed it on my morning hike. Can I finish making breakfast now?” he asked, wrenching himself out of her grasp.

She looked outside, half expecting to see the beast gazing back at her through the broken window, but there was no beast. A few snapped trees indicated that it had been there, but beyond that there was nothing.

She sniffed and turned back to him. “With my camping supplies?” she asked, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. The sense of immediate danger dwindled the more they kept talking.

He looked ordinary, almost plain. Mousy, dark brown hair with a small tuft of white at the edge of his bangs covered a pair of dark eyes. When they caught the light she thought for a moment that she saw slitted pupils, but when she rubbed her eyes they were perfectly mundane. His clothing was unadorned and he wore no accessories save for a pewter ring on his left hand. He simply shrugged and stood up, dusting himself off, “My own camp is about a half-mile from the ruins. I came here to scavenge, but when I got here, well…” he trailed off, pointing to her and her gear, “So! I grabbed some eggs from a nest because I didn’t feel like hunting rabbit this early in the morning, and here we are.” he said, fishing another egg out of his pocket. He cracked it into the pan, mumbling a quiet curse when a piece of eggshell slipped in with it. He carefully reached into the hot skillet and pinched the piece, shaking his fingers off after he managed to pull it out.

“You could get burned doing that.”

“I was very careful.” he replied coyly, “Anyway, you shouldn’t be here for long, miss. Rumor has it that this place is haunted.”

“I…was planning on staying for a week or two. I’m here on a private study sponsored by my university. And I don’t believe in ghosts.” she answered honestly. No use in lying about that. She could save her lies for an exit plan if need be. Even though the man was on the slighter side, everything about him still screamed danger to her baser instincts. It was obviously nerves from the dragon last night, that’s all. And probably the fact that he was touching her stuff.

The man stood and took a few backwards steps towards the eggs, keeping up the conversation, “Of course, a learned woman like yourself would not yield to superstition.” he smirked, eyes glinting with something close to glee, “Praytell, what do you study?”

She wrapped her arms around her chest and looked away, a somewhat insecure gesture that she hadn’t been able to shake off even in adulthood. Whenever she discussed her focus of study she either received mockery from her peers, or blind superstition from everyone else. “My primary concentration is in the historical and biological study of dragons.” she sighed.

“Oh, do go on.” he said eagerly, skillfully flipping the eggs over on the skillet with a flick of the wrist.

She frowned. “I take my work seriously, you know.”

“Don’t mistake my excitement for judgement, ma’am, I’ve simply heard many tales of the great beasts as a boy.” he said reassuringly, “And I don’t doubt it. You’re all the way out here, after all. I don’t think any sane traveler would go this far off the beaten path without a damn good reason.”

“And you?” she asked, “What of your reason for being out here?”

“I like to travel,” he replied, “and I like the quiet. Is it true that a dragon destroyed this place?”

She shrugged, “It’s impossible to know without finding dragon residue.”

His breath hitched, and he covered his mouth to let out a series of hacking coughs that sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Dragon what?”

“Residue.” she repeated, launching into researcher mode, “It makes sense that you wouldn’t know this. I’ve only seen it mentioned in a few of the newer biology texts but it is now commonly accepted by the scientific council that larger wyrms leave behind a tacky residue they excrete through their scales as possible self-moisturizing lubricant. Apparently it sloughs off in chunks.”

He made a face. “That sounds…disgusting.”

“It’s the proof my academy wants for the fieldwork I’m doing.” she shrugged, “Shouldn’t be too hard to find around here. Dragonfire clearly did all of this.” she said, taking note of the cracked and splintered columns that held up what remained of a burnt out cieling, caked in a dampened mixture of ancient dust and soot from the trickle of some unseen water source, “They’re magnificent, but the destruction is so…” she trailed off, running her hand over the burnt edge of a table.

The stranger clicked his tongue, “I’m sure that a dragon wouldn’t torch an entire castle without good reason.” he murmured, sliding the eggs into a small wooden dish.

She gave him an incredulous look before wandering back to the campfire to eat. She grabbed her waterskin to douse the flame, barely acknowledging what he was doing as she cut into her egg with a pocketknife. She sighed and stared up at the blackened ceiling, littered with cracks that wove their way through the pitted plaster surface above the foyer. “Don’t tell me you believe the old stories, where dragons would actually parley with kings and queens. Sure, they’re smart, but they’re like crows.”

“Crows.” he repeated, keeping his eyes on the skillet.

“Yes, somewhat mindless beasts that enjoy bringing shiny things back to their nests. The huge one that was out earlier was probably engaging in some migratory pattern if it’s gone by now.” she sighed, gazing out the broken door at the open sky above the treeline. She finally took a bite of the egg dangling on the edge of her knife, eyes widening at the taste. “This is good. Did you season it with anything? It tastes oddly familiar.”

He shook his head, “No, no, nothing like that. I just found some eggs in a tree a few paces into the clearing.” he replied, pointing his own utensil behind him to indicate direction, “Why would a mindless beast do all of this, then?” he asked, circling back to the topic of dragons.

She straightened out her shirt and stood up, taking in their surroundings yet again, “This,” she said, gesturing to the castle around her, “could have a whole litany of reasons behind it. However it’s probably the result of direct provocation. Dragons are speculated to have phenomenal memories, you know, and when they feel threatened they will lay waste to the object of their animalistic ire. Not to mention their territoriality. It could be a combination of multiple factors, honestly.”

He nodded slowly, “And you’re sure there’s nothing more to it than that?”

She sighed and sat down. “Yes, obviously.” she sighed, “I’ve interacted with a number of lesser drakes before, and while the resemblance to great dragons is uncanny, there’s very little proof of intelligence beyond their ability to solve ‘complex’ puzzles to gain treats. It’s not really that much of a logic jump to assume the bigger brutes behave the same. Perhaps they just have a broader lifespan, hence the growth rate. Although, when I was younger, I did believe the old stories.” she chuckled.

He nodded, paying close attention to her words. “And what if your younger self was correct, hm?”

“There’s no proof of that.” she replied, taking a swig from the waterskin. She used the rest to snuff the remaining flames, then took a stick from the fire pit and stirred the embers until they were completely cold.

It was then that she noticed the eggshells. They were a powder blue color, with deep blue speckles near the tops and bottoms. Kasheina eggs, known for their distinct, earthy taste and their rarity. Kashenia were known to inhabit the glassy, blue cliff region of the valley they sat in, roughly 5 miles from here. Her mother had brought them back from one of her cartography expeditions, raving about the taste. The stranger was lying. It was an impossible lie, but a lie nonetheless. There was no way these eggs could’ve stayed as fresh as they were now if he had gone on that journey, and they did not appear to be water glassed.

“Is…everything alright?” he asked, fidgeting nervously when she turned her scrutiny upon him.

She blinked and shook her head, “Sorry, sir, I was lost in thought for a moment. I was thinking of old dishes my family used to make. My mother loved her eggs poached.” This was also not a lie. “Anyway, I…do not believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Xenia.”

“Cassius—just Cass is fine, though.” he replied, shaking her outstretched hand.

His own hands were smooth and unblemished where hers were scratched and scarred by the brutal underbrush she’d dealt with on the way to the castle. She tilted her head, “Do you wear…gloves, when you travel in the woods?” she asked.

“It’s a little…warm for gloves?” he replied unsurely, clearly trying to figure out if there was a deeper meaning to her words.

She nodded. “And your blouse, it looks very lightweight. Surely it would snag on brush in the time it took you to get here, yet…I do not see any holes. Nor do I see a frock coat anywhere on your person.”

She unclipped the sheath to her billhook as she kept talking. He scrambled back across the floor, eyeing her warily, “W-Would you believe that I just like to take good care of my things?” he asked nervously, “And what are you doing with th-that?”

He tried to stand but she pounced on top of him before he could get off the floor. She pinned him to the ground, her initial fears drowning within the thrill of figuring out this impossible mystery, “Why did you make no mention of the massive crater the dragon left in its wake? Surely you could see that on your morning hike.” she kept him pinned with one hand and used her billhook to point with the other, “Who are you? Why do you not make sense?” she asked, pressing the billhook to his throat.

He sighed, the fearful expression on his face slipping away to reveal a neutral one, tinged with mild curiosity. “Y’know, normally I’m supposed to scare away the people that journey to this place.” he said, completely unfazed by the gardening tool biting into his neck, “You got me though, I’m…” he paused, taking a moment to think of something, “a ghost.”

“A ghost that eats eggs?” she asked rhetorically, trying not to outwardly express how perturbed she was at his lack of concern over the knife pressed to his throat.

She ran, putting one foot in front of the other until she’d reached the door on the other side of the hall. She vaulted over the busted doorframe, crying out when her shirt snagged on the splintered wood. The momentum threw the dragonlight from her hands, and all she could do was watch it fracture against the cobblestone path that led up to the entrance. Fingers larger than tree trunks descended towards the cracked gem, plucking it up and lifting it to the massive face of someone oddly familiar. Patches of red scales covered his face from his cheekbones to his ears. His hands had long, black claws, and his eyes shone brightly even while his face was covered in shadow. Cassius.

Gods above.

Her brain slid several pieces into place at once. Cass was the dragon, somehow. Aside from the draconic features, he looked almost identical to how he was when she met him in the morning, save for the difference in scale and a few bits of golden jewelry that adorned his hands and face. The crown was a bit much.

His intense gaze wasn’t on her, though. It was fixated on the glassy dragonlight he turned over in his hand like a common jewel. She shivered, picturing herself in its place, being twisted and prodded by digits taller than herself.

He finally stopped fiddling with the rock, letting out a small sigh of relief. He held it up to the light, frowning when it didn’t sparkle the way he thought it would. “It’s…dead.” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Xenia felt like the sky itself was crashing down on top of her when he started to bend his knees, slamming a hand into the ground to balance himself as his daunting gaze slid to her. “Hey, you. What’d you do to this thing?” he asked, holding the formerly dazzling jewel up to her face.

She shrieked, desperately trying to get her shirt unstuck from the door. She could see herself reflected in the gem’s surface, trying desperately to focus on that and not the monstrous hand that was holding it. “I-I-I just touched it, I swear I didn’t m-mean to do anything to the d-d-dragonlight, I—“

She flinched when he brought his hand closer to her, claws encircling her shaking frame. He gently tugged her away from the door and brought her closer to his face. His pulse thrummed through the clawed thumb that kept her pinned as she was brought higher and higher. She winced, trying to squirm away from him in despite the fact that she didn’t have anywhere to go. Even if he was sitting, the ground was still a solid eighty feet away. “I think you took it.” he whispered, keeping his thunderous voice down so they could actually talk.

She squinted up at him, his face eclipsing the sun’s harsh rays. “Took…what?”

“Hang on.” he frowned, setting her on the ground. She watched, jaw agape as he returned to his human form. He took a few steps forward and grabbed her face between his hands, “It’s in there, alright.” he nodded, looking into her eyes with an unreadable expression on his face.

“G-Get OFF of me you fucking monster!” she shouted, pushing him away. She frantically stumbled away from him. Her heel caught on a rock and she tripped, landing on her back. She wheezed and sat up, stammering, “T-T-The story. The dr-dragon. You’re the dragon.”

“Is that the astute observational sense you used to curry favor with academia?” he asked dryly.

She smoothed her shirt and shot him a dirty look. Something about his flat, sarcastic tone put her fears at ease for the moment. “Are you going to tell me why you grabbed my face like that, or am I going to have to make even more ‘astute observations’?” she snarked back, tilting her head to the side.

He chuckled, “The dragonlight’s magic. You have it.” he said, moving towards the old door, “One moment.”

The strange man kicked the remains of the door open with such a force that it ripped it clean off its hinges, sending the broken wooden thing flying into the wall. The display made her recoil, but if he noticed her shocked expression he refused to acknowledge it. He quickly found what he was looking for, grabbing a mirror shard and bringing it up to her face. “See?” he asked, getting far too close to her for her liking.

But she did see it. Her eyes, once a dull grayish-green color, now shimmered unnaturally in the light. She placed a hand over them, shielding herself from the sun’s rays. Sure enough, her irises glowed brightly in the shade of her open palm. “What—What does that even mean—“

“I’unno. Not like it’s my problem, though. I’m free.” he laughed, throwing his arms up in the air. A pair of bright red wings sprouted from his back as he grew taller and more dragon-like with each passing moment, until he towered over the entire castle. He winked at her and took off, disappearing off into the distance. She coughed, gagging on the dust kicked up in his wake.

Just when she’d managed to recover from the dragon’s sudden departure, he was back again, careening towards her from the opposite direction. His wings turned upwards and he threw his legs out first, slowing his arrival. Boots the size of stablehouses dug deep trenches in the earth when he landed, and he paused to look at the castle. “Why am I still…” he trailed off and frowned, looking down at her, “I think I get it. The curse keeping me here must’ve transferred to you, not just the magic.”

“W-What?”

He shrugged, “It’s only a theory for now, but it’s testable. Feel like a joyride?”

She shook her head aggressively, turning to run from the hand that was quickly descending upon her. “This’ll take one minute.” he huffed, pinching her between his thumb and index finger. She clung to his index for dear life the moment she heard those massive wings snap open, praying to every god she could name for her safety.

One moment they were on the ground, and the next they were soaring through the air, high over the valley and away from the castle. “Gods…I didn’t think that would work.” Cass finally breathed, “I’m really out.”

Xenia almost threw up in his hand, but she bit it back down due to fear of being dropped.

“You okay?” he asked, bringing her closer to his face as he glided along the air currents. They were no longer actively accelerating and it gave her a moment to think.

She just glared at him. What the hell kind of a question was that? Was she okay? Was she fucking okay? No! No she was not okay! She was the opposite of okay! This was the furthest from okay that she had ever been in her entire life! How dare he! Something burned within her, a white-hot surge of power from an untapped, untamable well. Her whole body began to glow and spark in his hands, and he quickly began descending into the forest below.

“Wh-Whoa…hey. Maybe don’t do that.” he said quietly, trying to run a finger down her back.

A bolt of pure energy arced through the air, giving him enough of a shock that he dropped his hands away completely. She stayed suspended in the air, feeling the raw power mix with her own boiling rage until something deep within her snapped uncomfortably. She began falling to the earth below. The surge of power was gone, replaced with a tired helplessness that permeated her whole body. “Help…” she murmured weakly, wind whipping past her face until she felt Cass’ hand wrapping around her in midair.

His wings snapped open and he pulled upwards out of the dive, finally landing in a clearing on the outskirts of the valley.

“What…was that?” he asked, brushing her hair away from her face with a claw.

Xenia shook her head, not fully understanding of it herself. “I don’t…I n-need to lay down.” she groaned, practically collapsing against his outstretched hand.

Her dreams were full of dragons, normally a comfort, but this time they burdened her, plaguing her mind with odd, nonsensical visions.

The next day she awoke with a start, rapidly blinking the sleep from her eyes. The massive dragon man was still there, much to her chagrin. Perfect. Fantastic. The one part of all this that she desperately wanted to stay in dreamland was here with her, coiled around her like an oversized housecat.

He must’ve fallen asleep after she passed out. She chose to wake him up. Without her supplies she couldn’t even perform her morning ablutions, let alone start breakfast.

“Hey!” she shouted, smacking his cheek.

He groaned and brought a hand up to his face, laying it on top of her, “Sh’dup. N’more talkin’.” he slurred groggily, going back to sleep.

She grunted, pulling herself out from beneath his hand with great difficulty. She then scaled the top of his head until she was a few inches away from his ear, “HEY!” she roared.

The man’s pointed ear swiveled downward and he sat up abruptly, reaching for her. She scrambled down his tunic before he could reach her, movements impeded by his sleepy state. “You’re annoying me.” he growled, finally catching her in a loose fist.

She glowered at him, fear being the furthest thing from her mind as the urge to fight took over. Scare tactics only worked when the threat behind them was real. If he had wanted to hurt her he would’ve done it by now, and they both knew it. “I do not care. And we need to talk, now.”

He nodded and yawned, sitting up. “Yeah, okay. It’s only fair.” he replied, setting her down on the grass in front of him.

“What are you?” she asked, “Be honest, were you the dragon I saw the night I entered the citadel?”

He nodded. “That was me. You set off the warding around the place the second you touched that wall and I was summoned.”

The weird electrical sensation she felt when she climbed the retainer. That wasn’t just her nerves, it was a ward. It made sense, of course, but she felt like a bit of an idiot for just brushing it off. “And the story?” she asked.

“Mostly true. But…I was gone on business when the humans decided to torch their own. I…I didn’t actually destroy the place, though. They did that themselves. The fires they started to ‘burn heretics’, they spread. I don’t even breathe fire. I was mainly punished for letting the fire happen in the first place because I wasn’t there.”

“You didn’t hurt anyone?”

“The only harm that was done happened because I was absent.” he scowled, “And my betters wanted me to pay for my arrogance, hence leaving me to guard the ruins forever.”

She nodded, thinking back on their first interactions, “You’re a dragon.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you look like that?”

Cassius balked, “Pardon?”

“N-No, um, I mean, what I meant to say was why do you just look like a bigger, more monster-y human?”

“My draconic form lacks the vocal chords that can mimic human speech.” he shrugged. “This is a compromise between the two. I get to be myself and also talk. Not to mention, human body language is a part of the discussion, is it not?” he asked, leaning closer to her.

She gulped and looked away from his chest as he loomed over her. The deep v-cut of his poet blouse combined with his immense size left very little to the imagination. “U-Um, yes. Indeed.” she nodded, “So…you’re a dragon.”

“We have already established this. Multiple times.”

“I…I know. But, I mean, you just let me say all that nonsense?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It was hysterical.”

She giggled. Everything that had happened over the course of the past two days was finally catching up with her, and she was now losing her damn mind. It was infectious, apparently, if the rumbling chuckle coming from above her was any indication. Before long they were both in a tizzy, full-bellied peals of laughter echoing across the gorge for a few minutes until they finally managed to calm down.

She sighed, wiping a few happy tears from her eye. There was still so much to work out, between the odd, almost alien power within her and her newfound entanglement with a brute straight out of a fairy tale, but this wasn’t the end of the world. If anything, she’d made the discovery of a lifetime. She had also threatened said discovery with a gardening tool multiple times upon meeting him. Not that it would’ve done much.

She could only imagine what would’ve happened if Luis had stayed. Speaking of Luis…

“Hey.” she said coyly, “How would you feel about scaring the living daylights out of a colleague of mine?”

They sat there in a silent stalemate, staring at each other, her blade still pushing uncomfortably against his skin. “L-Look,” he finally said, “You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“I want that map you have first.”

“Why didn’t you take it when you co-opted the rest of my things?”

“I…I—well, technically I want the book that’s associated with the map. The Calgish version of the fall of Fort Carthan. This castle, I mean, though you…probably already know that.” he shrugged.

“The narrative? Why would an old fairytale be useful to you?” she asked. She kept him pinned but eased up on the blade, her curiosity overpowering any sense of rationale.

“It tells of a treasure.”

“It most certainly does not.”

“Do you know the whole legend?”

“I did months of research, of course I know the whole legend. I know multiple variants. The Calgish version is by far the most detailed, and it makes no mention of a treasure.”

He nodded, “Perhaps…I do not need the book. You know this particular version?”

“By heart.”

“Okay, new idea. I tell you who I am, and you tell me the legend.” he said quickly.

She sat up and pushed herself to her feet, offering him a hand. He took it and stood, finally able to rub his sore neck.

“Why should I tell you? For all I know you’re simply a treasure hunter here to strip these ruins of whatever value remains. Even if your clothing is too pristine for it…how do I not know it’s an act?”

“You don’t.” he replied quickly, “I can only tell you the truth and hope that you believe me. I’m…nobility. From across the sea. I’m looking for a treasure that belonged to my ancestors. It might be here, and my father always assumed that the Calgish legend had the most truth to it, so…here I am. I didn’t mention the huge dragon-sized crater because I didn’t realize that’s what it was. We do not have dragons across the sea. The biggest monsters are sand vipers, and they are roughly the size of a full-grown man.”

She had minimal knowledge of the lands across the sea. She briefly wondered if he was banking on the fact that people from her region of the world were not well-traveled. The eggs still did not make sense, he had no guards to speak of, and she’d never heard of a prince that could cook, but perhaps that was the truth of the matter. Perhaps princes from across the sea were more independent than the sniveling whelps she knew of. It explained his appearance, anyway, and he was smart enough to know that he could not dress in the usual fineries out here. Just not quite smart enough to know that his plain clothes needed to look travel-worn. She finally sheathed her knife and walked to one of the only solid-looking tables, testing it and the two stools that were positioned on either side. “Come. Sit. I’ll tell you the story.”

He nodded and did as she asked, propping his elbows up on the small table.

She took a deep breath and began to recite it from memory.

Make no mistake, fair reader, for this is a tragedy of the highest order. Man’s hubris oftentimes knows not of what it has wrought until the violence of their decisions is upon them. This tale is the embodiment of that violence enacted against those who refused to bend to an unyielding social tide.

There was once a small citadel in the forest, set well within a quaint valley. It was said that this fortress was protected by a dragon, a massive, scaled beast of old, one with ties to the land that grew deeper than any man-made structure built atop it. It was said in those days that dragons would often parley with the lords within their territories, ironing out treatises and horde encumbrance and many other, smaller affairs.

Most dragons of the time were content to watch over their protectorate from afar, but some would indulge in more than lordly affairs, using human guises to dance with the locals during their festivals; and some, bolder still, taking human companions. Carthan’s keeper was young and brash, a dragon that was too proud to blend in with the humans he protected, yet not proud enough to keep himself from walking amongst them.

When the new religion from the South swept across the land, this was stopped. The Mother of Spring was kind and just, but Her laws dictated that none should carouse or make merry with firebringers. The lord and lady quickly became fervent believers, and the drake was barred from any and all upcoming social gatherings. This did not stop the young dragon from doing what he had always done. He danced with humans and enjoyed their company even as more and more of the populace turned to the will of Our Mother.

Thus a turning point came over the populace. Most shunned their former guardian, yet others remained steadfast in their support, offering him their friendship even as neighbors turned their backs on them. Still, the dragon paid it no mind, unable to see the churning tides of human affairs that threatened to swallow up those he cared for.

The Lord and Lady, lost in the zeal of their belief, began to gather up those they deemed heretical. Rewards were given to those who reported heretics to the guard. Neighbor turned on neighbor, friend turned on friend, families cannibalized themselves at the whims of their rulers, and all who were caught were set to burn, so that they would know the kiss of the fire they so loved.

Xenia stopped. “Are you…okay?” she asked Cass, who had his head buried in his hands.

He took a shaky breath and sat up in his chair, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “Y-Yeah, just a sad…um, story, you know?”

“It is a tragedy.” Xenia shrugged, “But it’s just a story. And even if there’s any truth to it, it was such a long time ago.”

He nodded, looking up at her. His eyes were bleary and his expression had turned dour for the first time since they met. “Um, can we skip to the end? When the dragon gets imprisoned? That’s the important treasure part.”

“Sure.” she nodded sympathetically. She didn’t have the heart to contradict him about the treasure again. Some people just don’t have the stomach for the sad old classics.

The dragon’s siege on its once coveted populace lasted for four days and four nights, until not a single soul was left in the citadel. Those who tried to flee were caught in the wildfire that overtook the valley. Several other dragons were employed to manage the fire caused by their youngling. He tried to argue, claim that the humans had gone mad and began setting their own people on fire for the crime of associating with him, but it mattered not. The deed was done, his rage had snuffed out any chance of reconciliation when the rattling, choked gasps of the last remaining human died in their throat.

The other dragons chose to make an example of the youngling. He would be forced to guard the burnt out remains of his home until the end of days, tethered here by draconic magics that wove themselves through the land. Their spell was thusly written:

Twist and take root

Decay at the heart of the moon

Lost behind the seat of power