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Chapter Twenty Nine

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Revaramek gave Enora his biggest, broadest, most shining grin. “You are going to share your food with your benevolent overlord, aren't you?"

“When you look at me like that, it makes me feel as if I am food." Enora folded her arms, glancing at her platter. “And I'm not done here, you know."

The green dragon cocked his head. “I'm smiling! I'm trying to look like a dragon that deserves a treat. Or better yet, all the treats." Revaramek licked his muzzle, tilting his head to gaze at all the edible delights still lingering atop the tray.

“You know, for a dragon who just got hit in the balls, you're in an awfully good mood." Enora picked up a slice of mutton and made a show of eating it slowly.

Revaramek snorted, tossing his head, his gold-edged frills extended. “That must be because it happens so often I can't help but grow accustomed." He tilted his head down to glare at Mirelle.

“Don't look at me!" Mirelle prodded his scales with a finger. “It wasn't even me this time."

“I know, and don't think I won't get Chir'raal back." He hissed, dragging his webbed tail spines against the grass.

“You had it coming." Kurekka limped over to Enora, and sat next to her. He turned his head, peering at the platter.

Enora reached out and shoved his beak aside. “This is mine!"

Revaramek cocked his head. “Heard that somewhere before."

“Yes, in a tale. We know." Mirelle giggled, patting his paw. “I've had enough to eat, though, you can have what's left of mine."

Enora drummed her fingers against the wooden tray. “You've already eaten your share, Mirelle. All that's left now is mine."

“But Enora, we're hungry!" Revaramek gave a long, drawn out whine.

“Yes!" Kurekka made a sad warbling noise, hanging his head. His ears and feathers drooped. “And we're injured."

Enora threw her hands up. “Oh, for the love of…fine! Eat my food, make me starve!" She scooted back from her tray, grumbling. “And here I thought that sort of blow made a man lose his appetite."

“That's your problem, right there." Revaramek rose up and padded over to the tray, trying not to jostle himself. The movement made him ache but the worst of it was fading. “We're not men! We're dragons! Well…I'm a dragon." He settled himself across the tray from Kurekka, inclining his head at the gryphon. “He's a catbird. We recover faster from injuries than men do."

“Unfortunately." Enora glared at him, her arms folded.

“I dunno, Revaramek, that last time I got you-"

“Yes, Mirelle, we're all very intrigued to hear about your sadism, but as you can see, the catbird and I are enjoying our snack." He picked up a piece of bread, sniffed at it, and stuck it in his muzzle.

“Since you insist on calling me catbird…" Kurekka speared a bit of mutton with a single unsheathed claw, waving it at Mirelle. “Now I want to hear about the last time she…" He splayed his ears in a gryphon smirk. “Got you."

Revaramek winced, his own ears flattened back. Damn wicked catbirds, always laughing at his pain. He oughta punch that smug bird right in his…oh, right.

Mirelle giggled and glanced towards Kurekka. “He was down ages last time."

“Because that was twice in one day!" Revaramek snapped his jaws.

“Yes, it was! And you earned them both!" Mirelle laughed, leaning back onto her hands. “Oh you should have seen him, moaning, and rolling about in the grass. Complaining he was about to vomit-"

“You did vomit!"

“And it was worth it to see the look on your face after giving you what you deserved for that wicked trick!" She tilted head to regard Kurekka. “He chased me through the swamp and pounced on me like some prey animal before yanking me screaming into the sky! I got terribly airsick!"

Revaramek thumped his tail. “And getting kicked was worth it to see the look on your face when I hauled you off the ground!"

“Was it?" Mirelle tilted his head, arching her brow. “That's good to know. Perhaps we'll make that our post-flight ritual from now on. A good way for me to relieve the stress of flying."

“Very well, Mirelle." Revaramek lifted a jar filled with fruit preserves, and worked its sweet contents free with his tongue, then licked it clean. “But I volunteer Chir'raal in my place from now on."

“Oh you do, do you?" Kurekka ruffled his feathers, his crimson crown feathers rising around his head. “And how do you think he's going to feel about that?"

“Achy and nauseas, I suspect." Revaramek grinned at the gryphon, then speared a square of cheese with a claw tip.

Kurekka ground his beak to hold back his laughter. He flared out one of his wings, and preened a loose feather. “It's good to know age hasn't changed you, Rev."

“What's that supposed to mean? You're older than I am, aren't you?"

“Yes, but I was already grown, and…" Kurekka chirped and clicked his beak a couple times. “I'm trying to say I like you the way you are."

“Of course you do, I'm resplendent."

“You know that word is only related to appearance, and not personality, right?" Kurekka waved a wing towards Enora for support. Revaramek glanced at her, she shrugged, and the gryphon went on. “I'd call your personality…"

“Unique." Mirelle chimed in when the gryphon seemed at a loss for words.

Revaramek twisted his head around to gaze at Mirelle. “Uniquely wonderful, fun, exciting."

“You were fun and exciting until you hit me in the eggs." Kurekka flicked a bit of bread crust at him. It bounced off his scales. The gryphon grimaced, splayed his ears and rubbed himself. “Now you're just an asshole."

“You know you love me." Revaramek smiled and glanced at Enora. “And where does a gryphon even learn words like that in the human language?"

“Don't look at me!" Enora held her hands up as if warding off an accusation.

“Why not?" Kurekka stretched a wing to brush her with his crimson flight feathers. “You're the one I heard it from."

Enora folded her hands in her lap and glanced away. “No idea what you're talking about."

 “Actually…" Mirelle rose to her feet, and padded over to the dragon. She settled down alongside him, and leaned up against his haunch. “I had wondered about that."

“About assholes?" Revaramek tilted his head, gazing down at her.

Mirelle pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Watch it, Dragon. Or I'll be backhanding you myself, next."

“Well how am I to know what you're babbling about?" Revaramek shifted his hind leg, trying to leave himself a little less wide open.

“Language!" Mirelle gestured at the dragon and gryphon in turn, then at Enora. “You both speak the same language as me."

“Of course we do." Revaramek arched his neck, gazing down at Mirelle. For such a smart woman, she could be awfully dense sometimes. “It's just easier."

Mirelle ran her hand down her face, sighing against her palm. “But you have your own languages, don't you?"

“Of course." Kurekka used his outstretched wing to gesture at Revaramek. “But you think this lout here can speak the gryphon tongue? He's not even equipped for it."

“I'm not a lout." Revaramek folded his forelegs over his plated chest, glaring at his friend. “You're a lout. And I'm plenty equipped."

“Not for this, you aren't." Kurekka tilted his head back and made a series of strange sounds that alternated between chirrups, whistles, and warbling.

The noises grated on Revaramek. He pinned his ears to try and drown them out. “Enough! Your birdsong chirping is going to crack my eardrums."

“Point made, Kurekka." Mirelle leaned her head against Revaramek's haunch, her hair tickled at the tiny spaces between green scales. “Thank you."

“What point?" Revaramek lifted his ears when the gryphon stopped his obnoxious twittering.

Kurekka curled his feathered tail around his paws. “That you and I can't speak each other's native tongue, but we can both speak the human tongue fluently. So it's just easier."

“Is it hard?" Mirelle tilted her head.

“That's a saucy question, Mirelle." Revaramek rumbled amusement. “But you can tell just by looking at his-"

“The language!"

“I don't think talking about language is going to get him hard. If you wanted to see that you should have been around last night!"

Kurekka laughed, and Mirelle just glared at Revaramek. She put a hand on the dragon's hind leg scutes, then leaned around him, balling up her other hand into a fist. Revaramek shot a paw down to protect himself, whining.

“Alright, alright, truce!"

“Are you going to behave yourself?"

“If I must." Revaramek whined again. “But only because they're still sore."

“They'll be a lot more sore if you keep it up." Mirelle glared a little longer, but her anger soon melted into mirth and she leaned against his haunch again. “So behave!"

Revaramek didn't ease his paw away until Mirelle was once more settled and relaxed. “You know you love me."

“I wouldn't go that far." Mirelle folded her arms, her lips twitching as if she was fighting a smile. “But you have your moments. Now, as I was saying. Is it difficult for gryphons to speak our language?"

“Not as difficult as you might think. The hardest part is learning to make all the proper sounds. That takes a lot of practice. But gryphons are naturally equipped to be able to make an amazing range of vocalizations." Kurekka rubbed his throat with a paw. “We've very agile throats, dexterous tongues, and the back half of our beak is far softer and more mobile than the front half. So you see-"

“I'm going to need a damn nap at this rate." Revaramek hung his head.

“I'm sorry." Kurekka set his paw down. “Am I boring you, dragon?"

“Yes, Professor Squawks-A-Lot, you are." Revaramek yawned, ears and spines flattened back, tongue curling. “Mirelle only asked if it was challenging, not how you accomplish it."

“I suppose you'd rather crack jokes about arousal than have an intellectual discussion."

The dragon smirked. “It's certainly more entertaining. Speaking of which-"

“Revaramek has something he wants to ask you about that." Mirelle elbowed the dragon's haunch. “Right Rev?"

“Mirelle, shush!"

“What's this now?" Kurekka cocked his head, a few crown feathers lifted.

“Revaramek wants to know if-"

Revaramek curled his wing across Mirelle, hiding her. “Besides, I'm still waiting on that second request. You know, to make me happy."

“Oh?" Kurekka's eyes widened and the rest of his crown feathers shot up.

“What?" Revaramak blinked, then gave a draconic yelp of alarm, waving off the notion with a forepaw. “No, no. A story, like I said! So, Mirelle, about that, perhaps you should-"

“He wants you know if he did anything with you last night!" Mirelle wriggled free from his wing, laughing. “You know, as lovers."

“Mirelle!" Revaramek stomped a forepaw and lashed his tail. His webbed spines scythed down a dandelion. “I told you that in confidence! I mean…well…" The dragon took a deep breath, and sighed in defeat. He may as well just ask them now. “Did I? …Did we?"

Kurekka stared at him, beak gaping. Then the gryphon broke into raucous, squawking laughter that left Revaramek's frills burning and his ears pinned back. “You can't remember?"

“I…" Revaramek cut a circle in the sod with a claw. “…No."

“You couldn't remember last time, either!"

“Last time?"

That only made Kurekka laugh harder. “This…always happens…when you drink too much…with us!"

“What always happens?!" Revaramek hissed, digging his claws into the earth.

“Waarkwarwarrkkarrwwrrarrwarrrrk!" The red-brown gryphon laughed so hard he toppled over onto his side, clutching his ribs with both forelegs.

“You see, Mirelle?" Revaramek flared his wings out to their full expanse, growling and glaring at his copper markings as if they'd insulted him. “This is why I don't ask them! Mirelle…Mirelle?" He glanced down to find Mirelle rolling on the ground in laughter just like the gryphon. Even Enora seemed stuck in a seizure-like fit of giggles. Revaramek snapped his jaws a few times. “Cease your cackling at once! I am not a minstrel to be laughed at!"

“No, no…" Kurekka's warbling laughter trailed off, and he waved his paw at the dragon. “A minstrel would remember who he mated with!"

“So…did he?" Mirelle kept giggling, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “With…you two? Because I hadn't realized he was…you know…with males. Or that…well…you two would…with anyone but…each other."

“Why are so many of you humans, Enora excluded, so repressed?" Kurekka flexed his wings in a shrug. “Mating should be fun, with whoever your preferences are, so long as it's consensual."

“Your attempts to expand Mirelle's horizons are not answering my question." Revaramek curled his tail around his paws, hissing. “Did we or did we not indulge in-"

“If you can't remember, I'm not going to tell you." Kurekka flashed the dragon a disgustingly smug grin. “Chir'raal and I went to sleep quite satisfied. And you…may…have had a paw in that satisfaction."

“I did?" Revaramek cocked his head. “Was I…having fun?"

“Or perhaps you didn't. Which answer are you looking for, exactly?"

“The truthful one!" Revaramek snarled in exasperation, beating his wings against the air. Mirelle pressed herself to his scales to avoid being blown over, and Enora hunkered down nearby. “I don't care if I did or not, I just want to know if I enjoyed myself if I did!"

“I don't recall any complaints, at the least." Kurekka inspected the back of his forepaw, then picked a small burr with his beak. “All I recall is that whatever may have happened, the two of us with feathers were quite happy when we fell asleep."

“Wait…" Revaramek cocked his head, a new indignity springing to mind. “Are you suggesting that I did participate but you two left me unsatisfied? Because that would be extraordinary rude!"

“Awwawwarwawarkwarkwark!" Kurekka nearly toppled over again in the midst of his laughter. “The ideas…that pop…into your mind! Oh, I'm not…going to tell you…anything else. You'll just have to try and remember. Or drink with us again!"

Revaramek folded his wings around himself, hissing and grumbling. He glanced down at Mirelle. “This is your fault!"

“How is any of this my fault?"

“I told you not to ask them! And this is why!"

“They always get like this when they drink too much." Enora giggled and fetched the tray. “I'm going to put this away." She nudged the dragon with it. “Don't be grumpy. No one likes a grumpy overlord."

Revaramek ran a finger back and forth across the gold-edged webbing between his tail spines. “I'd be a lot less grumpy if I hadn't been left unsatisfied."

“You put that idea in your own head." Enora leaned in to kiss Revaramek's scales, then turned for her house. “I'll be back in a bit. Why don't you tell Mirelle about that second thing you said would make you happier?"

“Oh!" Revaramek lifted his head, his ears perked. “Yes, good idea."

Kurekka rustled his feathers, grinning. “If you're going to ask me to satisfy you, you'll have to wait for Chir'raal to come back so I can ask permission."

“You shut your beak, bird, before I stuff it full of mud."

“Rude!" Kurekka chirped, and then swiveled his ears back, a sly grin parting his beak. “At this point I half think there's something else you'd like to-"

“So Mirelle!" Revaramek spoke up loudly enough to cover up the gryphon's voice. “The other thing that would make me happy again."

“I'm not doing whatever the gryphon did." Mirelle giggled. “Or didn't."

“No, no, no." Revaramek lowered his head to nose at her cheek. “As pleasant as that would be, I'd never ask a maiden to do something she wasn't comfortable with."

Mirelle pursed her lips and glanced at Enora as the old woman walked across the vale to her house. “So I've been told. What is it you want, then?"

“Does no one listen to me? A story!"

“What sort of story?" Mirelle set her hand on his muzzle, gently rubbing his scales.

“Any sort, really." Revaramek's ears swiveled forward, his spines fluttered in excitement. “It's been ages since I had a maiden tell me a story."

“I…well…" Mirelle swallowed hard, and worked her jaw a few times like the fish he sometimes snatched out of the water. “I…I'm honored you'd want me to tell you a story, but I'm afraid I don't really know any."

Revaramek flexed his wings. “Neither did most of the maidens my mother used to bring. That's why they brought books to read to me from."

Mirelle's eyes widened. “Your…your mother brought the maidens?"

“Yes, while I was young. After all, someone had to help me learn the local languages, keep me company when she…well…"  

As soon as Revaramek realized what he'd said, an icy pang struck his heart, an old pain, cold and hollow. He glanced away, stared at the hilly horizon, and then squeezed his eyes shut. The dragon trembled, his scales clicked against each other. He curled his wings against himself but found no comfort in their warmth. Revaramek tried to will the pain away. He so rarely thought about it these days. But when it struck him, it struck him deeply. He just needed a moment, needed to focus on the best of times with her. Needed to….

And then Mirelle put her hand upon his paw, rubbed his fingers, and he found comfort again. Revaramek opened his eyes to slits, watched her olive skin stroking his green scales. She smiled up at him, lifted her hand to caress the scutes upon his foreleg. Her hazel eyes caught the sunlight, and shone like polished topaz stones. Her smile, her touch, her friendship eased his pain, just as it filled a void he so rarely acknowledged.

“It's alright, Rev." She leaned her head against, stroking his foreleg.

“Yes." Revaramek lowered his head to nuzzle at her hair. “It is. Thank you for your friendship, Mirelle."

Mirelle pulled her head back and gave him an odd look. He wondered if he'd said something puzzling. A moment passed, and Mirelle laughed, seemingly amused by her inability to solve the enigma he'd presented her. “You're welcome. So…a story, hmm? I could get one of Enora's books." She glanced back towards the house, still smiling. “She's hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. You've probably already heard most of hers, though."

“I don't mind hearing them again." Revaramek tilted his head when Mirelle set her hand atop his paw again. “I'm sure in her time away the villages and wandering the world, she's accumulated many more I've not yet heard. Besides, it's been so long now I doubt I can remember how half the old ones go."

Revaramek licked his nose, glancing at Kurekka. The gryphon gave him a little nod. He'd stretched out on his side in the grass, spreading his wings to sun himself. Revaramek chuckled, swiveling his ears towards Mirelle. “You know, in times when my mother was away, and after she was..." He swallowed, and licked his nose. “After she was gone, I'd try and tell myself stories. Usually I'd try to tell one of my favorites, but I could never remember quite how they went. They ended up different every time I told them. Sometimes I'd even change the way the story ended to make it happier. At this point I can't always recall which is the original and which the alteration. So whatever story you choose, it shall, in its own way, be new to me."

Mirelle gave him another funny look. Her hazel eyes sparkled as if searching his soul for the answer to some mystery the dragon didn't even know he'd offered her. She shook her head, laughed, and then wrapped her arms around Revaramek's neck. “I will deny having ever said this, Dragon, but in your own way, you're wonderful." She pulled back and rose to her feet. “I'll go see what I can find to read to you. Make yourself comfortable, hmm?"

“Of course I'm wonderful." Revaramek lifted his spines in smug display. “I'm a dragon."

“That you are." Mirelle walked across the grass, her hips swaying, borrowed green and gold skirt swishing. “And stop staring at my ass."

“Wasn't staring." He hoisted up a hind paw to scratch at his side. “Just glancing. And you're in my colors, you know."

Mirelle made an obscene gesture without glancing back.

Revaramek turned his head to address Kurekka. “I think she meant that for you!"

Kurekka made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an annoyed cat, and flicked a wing up over his head.

“Same to you, Bird."

Revaramek padded around the vale while he waited for Mirelle's return. He sniffed at the empty cask. The scent of rich red wine still clung to it, though all the tasty liquid was long gone. At least his headache was gone now, as well. The dragon was thankful that hangovers rarely seemed to last as long for his kind as they did for humans. As he nosed about the area, he spotted a book laying the grass. Odd lettering marked the blue cover in faded black sigils. A faded symbol, barely perceptible, marked the top of the spine.

The dragon cocked his broken-horned head. He vaguely remembered Mirelle bringing that book out last night. She must have forgotten it in her drunken stupor. He seemed to recall there was something in it she wanted to tell him. Perhaps there was a story in there Mirelle could read to him. Revaramek eased onto his belly with the book between his forelegs. Careful as could be, he opened the tome to the first page.

Strange, sharp sigils were scrawled across the vellum. At first they looked completely foreign, almost alien. He'd never seen a language like that in the books the maidens used to bring. He certainly couldn't read it. And yet, the longer he stared at them, the more he felt a strange, vague sort of familiarity to them. It made his brain twitch, as if his mind was afflicted with an itch it was impossible to scratch. Had he seen this language before? He must have glimpsed it somewhere. In a dream, maybe. Perhaps even the youthful dream when he found himself piercing the sky itself, surrounded by emptiness and the smell of burning vellum.

Revaramek shook his head, trying to clear the old memory. It suddenly seemed very unpleasant. He didn't recognize the lettering. It was probably just déjà vu again. He grunted, and gently paged through the book. To his pleasant surprise, he found it was some sort of picture book, filled with detailed illustrations. He found it a shame he could not read the captions. Some of the pictures were very bleak. There was an old ruin silhouetted against a setting sun. The skull of an unfamiliar creature rested atop a hill of a sand. Others were far more beautiful. He came across an image of a seemingly endless marsh not unlike his home. In another, a dragon flew above a jagged mountain. The next image depicted rolling hills dotted with spires of stone. After that, he found a family of urd'thin gathered around a fire, in what looked like a desert.

Then he came across an image that stunned him. Immense, towering trees rose from dark water that stretched on endlessly. Strange birds nested in one tree. A bizarre salamander crawled up another. Revaramek stared at the image, unblinking. It almost drew him in, as if the image itself was as deep and endless as the swamp it depicted. He knew those trees. He knew that water. He knew those creatures.

“Revaramek?" Mirelle's voice drew him from his reverie. He'd been so lost in that image he hadn't even heard her approach.

“It's the swamp, Mirelle." The dragon glanced at her, his mouth dry. He licked his muzzle as Mirelle set down a stack of old books. “It's the swamp."

“Oh, I saw that picture the other night." Mirelle bent forward to peer between the dragon's forepaws. “I was going to show you that book, and I forgot all about it. It's one of Enora's. She found it on her travels. She doesn't even know what language it's in, let alone where it came from. I don't suppose you recognize it, do you?"

Revaramek ran his paw pads delicately over the image scribed upon the vellum. “It's…it's the swamp."

“So you said." Mirelle scrunched her face, staring at him. “Are you alright?" She placed her hand upon one of his ear frills. Her fingers were warm. “You don't feel hot or anything. Then again, not sure I'd know if a dragon suddenly took a fever or not. You're acting strange, though. Do you still want me to read you a story?" She slipped a hand past his broken horn, and gently stroked his largest frill. “If you're not feeling well, we can read one another time. Enora says that might be a good way to distract you while she cleans and stitches you up a bit more, but…I thought you might just like to…you know, relax and listen a while."

Revaramek took a deep breath and it out in a long, slow sigh. Whatever that picture meant didn't matter. He pushed the book aside, and smiled at his friend. “I'd like nothing more." He curled his foreleg around Mirelle, and before she could wriggle free, pulled her up against his chest scutes. “Have you chosen one?

Mirelle grunted and squirmed, but soon settled in against him. “Didn't expect that, but can't say I'm not comfortable." She patted his foreleg scutes, then leaned over his leg to reach for her pile of books. “I've got a few Enora says you used to love, and one she says you've never heard."

“Oooh, a new story?" Revaramek arched his neck, glancing at the books. Some of them looked older than others, and some more familiar. “I want to hear that one."

“The new one it is." Mirelle selected a book with plain, brown leather cover and faded gold lettering. She leaned against his chest. “I've…never read anyone a story before, so…bear with me if I'm not as good at it as your various maidens."

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