Dragonsong

It had only been a few days, a week at the most, she guessed, since she arrived in this world. She awoke in a middle of a vast plain that seemed to be devoid of anything friendly. She’d seen things flying about, but not wanting to risk being some monster’s dinner, she’d wisely avoided them. And considering that she was a nimble, lithe thief that was well-trained and light on her feet, the task of staying hidden proved to be quite easy.

Her experiences in the wilds of Gran Pulse had helped her refine her survival skills, which she was using. Only last night, though, had she stumbled upon the ruins which she was now exploring. Surely there was something of great value that she could take, and, once she found some semblance of human civilization, sell to help her actually establish herself, right? Still, beyond some old jewels and other tiny things she’d managed to loosen from old walls, there wasn’t much beyond weathered stone. She huffed. 

“You’d honestly think there’d be more… maybe I just haven’t explored far enough yet.” She mused, amethyst purple eyes looking towards a platform that was decently high in the sky. Her long, dark purple hair was a bit messy by now, and honestly, some would call it a miracle she wasn’t dead, since her only protection was skin-tight black clothing that covered her whole body, save her head. She unfurled the whip from her side that was originally held by a clip on a utility belt, and cracked it once to get it loose. 

“I guess I’m heading up.” She said quietly, chuckling a bit. She used her whip to swing from whatever it could wrap around until she landed on the platform… and she knew then she’d hit jackpot. She brushed her fingers across the elaborate design underneath her. 

“I wonder who made this, and what it means? Well, whatever. It’s mine now!” She wondered, tone a bit excited but quiet. She pulled out a small tool from her belt, and began chipping away at it, completely unaware that she wasn’t as alone as she thought…

Chink, chink, chink....

A golden eye snapped open as the sound reached him, and the Great Wyrm let out a long, heavy sigh as he uncurled and rose slowly to his feet. Chink, chink chink...

A low rumble as he unfolded and stretched his stiff wings and tail, searching the ruin beneath him with a sharp, unwavering gaze. It was easy to find the source in the silence. A mortal. Oh, how long it had been... Still, he knew this visit was entirely unlike the company he once knew. Hraesvelgr knew a thief when he saw one.

It seemed his visitor had not taken notice of his sleeping form--a boon of the white stone of his home. There was little contrast to discern him from. 

Hraesvelgr:

That alone was enough to make him jump, quickly standing and nearly falling off the edge before he had enough thought to walk to the side. Hraesvelgr was not supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to come and see what his brother had fallen to.

The tales of Meracydians living on there, and whispers of his sister’s name brought him back to that wretched place. It was a solemn affair, confirming this. The Great Wyrm did not keep his hopes high. Memory served all too well of how the Allagans corrupted and ruined all that they came into contact with.

He could see the remnants of his brother’s brood pacing about on the islands below, and his sister in chains above them. The sight of that alone was enough to fill his heart with a sorrow both profound and potent.

Though it did not end there.

Bahamut’s presence was not unknown to him, and although he yearned to speak to Tiamat, he knew to do so without first addressing his brother would be a grave mistake. It was no surprise that Bahamut was here, though he hadn’t planned on meeting with him now.

His approach was quiet, his expression one of worry upon the mortal guise he wore.