Extinct
In which the gates of the Mist being solidified has Repercussions on a world that doesn't want to lose its dragons, and the events of WereCreature Chronicles are set in motion
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 To say Tsierre was worried was putting it lightly. He had felt the reverberations ricochet through the Mist and hit something. He had heard the dragons roar.
 Something had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
 “We have to do something.”
 Tsierre pulled his attention back to the gathering of nomesach before him.
 “It is not ours to intervene.” That was Hotre, resettling his wings against his back.
 “It ought to be. How long before we are threatened? Already the Bone Dragon is restless.” Keyahir blinked.
 “They do not always appreciate our help,” Tsierre said, breaking his silence. “It would be best to wait, perhaps, and be vigilant.”
 “Every year the plain grows smaller, and you want us to wait?” Keyahir snarled.
 “The NightGale–” started a quiet voice, overshadowed by Keyahir.
 “Something has happened beyond the Mist, we might be all that is left, and you want us to wait?” Keyahir scoffed.
 “The NightGale–”
 “We will go extinct waiting. We must do something.”
 “What would you suggest, Keyahir?” Hotre sounded tired. “Travel beyond the Mist is tricky, even for us. Even were we to go to Magicen and risk it all–”
 Hotre cut off as someone yowled, caterwauling into a shriek. A young nomesach – bright, kestrel barred wings, spotted back, heavy rudder of a tail that was fletched with feathers – stalked into the centre of the circle.
 Tsierre relaxed his tensed muscles, attempting to smooth his ruffled fur without being too obvious. “why do you interrupt now?”
 “Because the NightGale sent me with a suggestion, Nomesach Tsierre.” Now that she had everyone’s attention, her manners were impeccable. She sat, tail spread behind her and wings folded in, and dipped her head to him. “If you will hear it.”
 Keyahir scoffed at the slight hint of judgement in the nomesach’s voice.
 Hotre shot her a warning look. “Speak, then, Nomesach…?”
 “Nomesach Krinos. The NightGale suggests that we look for the Three.”
 “The Three!” Keyahir scoffed. “That is merely an old story.”
 “Given to us by the One Who Sings.” Krinos held herself more calmly than Tsierre would expect anyone of her age to. “I think it is time to listen.”
 “A story is still a story, no matter who tells it.” Keyahir stalked forward as if she sought to intimidate Krinos.
 “A story still has threads of truth, no matter who disbelieves it,” Krinos replied, and Tsierre almost laughed.
 Keyahir bristled and opened her mouth to snarl.
 “This infighting solves nothing.” Hotre cut across her. “Nomesach Krinos. Were we to search them out, travel still poses a problem.”
 Krinos inclined her head. “There are still aspects to work out, I admit. The NightGale suggested that the Three might be pulled in alone, and we only need to look within our own domain.”
 “And if they are not?” Tsierre asked. “Who would you ask to sacrifice themself?”
 “No one without volunteering myself.” Krinos tilted her chin up.
 A familiar gesture. One Tsierre had seen elsewhere.
 “Brave,” remarked Hotre.
 “Foolhardy,” spat Keyahir. “Still. Your keeper will remember you, if no one else does.”
 “She will remember you, too.”
 “Find one, and the others may follow,” Tsierre said, before Keyahir could descend into more squabbling.
 Krinos met his gaze and nodded.
 Tsierre watched her and knew where he recognised her motions from. She had told him, hadn’t she? And he had forgotten, because that was how it worked.
 He stepped down from his perch and raised his wings in an invitation.
 Krinos followed. They left the circle of nomesach behind. Hotre raised his voice to focus the discussion.
 Beyond the circle it was dark. Tsierre’s wings glowed, reflecting the moonlight back.
 “If you do this, the chances for your return are slim.”
 “Everything changes, Tsierre. Even us.”
 Tsierre dipped his head. “Even so.”
 “I would rather one than all.” Krinos tipped her head back. “Even if that one is me.”
 “It is not you that will suffer.”
 “No,” Krinos said, and smiled. “But as Nomesach Keyahir said, only the NightGale will remember.”
 “And you choose this, willingly?”
 “I will not let the world dissolve because I was a coward. It starts already.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Magicen already breaks.”
 “No one has brought that news.” Tsierre blinked.
 “I think they try to fight it.” Krinos sat, her voice soft. “They are very brave.”
 Tsierre turned back to face her, sitting back on his haunches. “You are, too.” He looked at her – so young, so small, so steady – and his heart almost broke. “How many did you have to out argue for the – honour?”
 “None.” Krinos tilted one wing in a shrug. “The NightGale knows her name.”
 “Her?”
 “The first of the Three.”
Tsierre dipped his head, let that sink in. “You and she?”
 “Leiri,” Krinos answered.
 Tsierre flicked his tail through the grass.
 “We are two sides, of a sort. So I know I will find her.” Krinos met Tsierre’s gaze. “I will not let us go extinct.”
 “Sister,” Tsierre said, unbidden. It fell out, instead of what he meant to say.
 Krinos blinked at him.
 “I was also the NightGale’s, once.”
 “And now you are Polinnedite’s.” She tilted her head. “Or Rhutren’s, perhaps.” The words had a teasing lilt to them.
 Tsierre shot her a narrow eyed stare for that.
 Krinos laughed and started to groom her wing.
 “As you will be Leiri’s,” he said eventually, half a breath too late to be a decent retort. He has had little practice at being an older brother, but he wanted.
 Krinos laughed at him.
 “How will you travel?”
 “The mage nest has already reached out with dire portents.” Krinos rolled her eyes. “As if they are the only ones aware.”
 “You debt yourself to them?” Tsierre frowned.
 “Oh, no.” Krinos gave him a wicked smile. “They debt themselves to we. Since they begged.”
 “Be careful how you play them,” Tsierre replied. “They are proud.”
 “Of course.” Krinos tilted her head, and there was that teasing light dancing around her eyes again. “Brother.”
 Tsierre couldn’t help himself; he barked with laughter and reached out to bat a paw against Krinos’ head.
 She pulled back out of the way and snapped at his paw in a playful manner, inviting him to follow.
 He was the nomesach of Polinnedite, who kept all knowledge. He ought to be amongst the nomesach, discussing the threat to the world, discussing what they might do to keep themselves alive in the face of it.
 Tsierre leapt after Krinos. They would not fall in one night There was time yet, and then his youngest sister would help to save them all.
