Chapter 34: Delights and Dragons

In a series of brief exchanges, the cleric's friends departed. To hold their loved ones, make up for the lost times, share in their company. Along the windy beach Asterion realized he was alone, cold and confused upon the sandy shore. Clutching tight his cloak he whisked himself away, back to the keep, back to the shrines, back to his prayers of guidance.

Silence wrapped itself around him like a protective cloak, helping bring a semblance of clarity to the storm of questions between his horns. They all focused on his fate, what he'd done and what awaited him. Had his honor been restored? Or was he to walk the rest of his days never knowing, doomed to rest within the hells? For hours he waited, only the sound of his heartbeat and steady breathing. When Merlia's voice came to him, it was like a thunderstorm, leaving his flicking ears aching.

“So this is where you got off to huh?" Merlia remarked with a friendly grin, then coughing and waving away the incense smoke that filled the room like a fog. “Burning down the keep isn't going to help you. Is that a minotaur thing? Or a Korde thing? Can never tell with ya."

“They are the incense of clear thought, forged from the bark of a displacer tree." He shivered from his kneeled position, almost slipping onto the thin navy carpet below his cushion. “Does Thor not have similar rituals?"

“He does. Just more feasting and drinking." She grumbled, calloused hands on her leather belt as she gazed around the diminutive room, a shrine nestled deep within the keep of the sapphire guardians.

“It is not one of those times." He uttered, rising with a groan. He nearly collapsed, his legs having falling asleep in his concentration. Tilting his horn he avoided the numerous thin strings dangling from the ceiling, at their ends, symbols of the various gods. The room flickered in the candle light as if in deep thought, adding weight to the resolute look he flashed the amused dwarf. “Is it a dwarf thing to interrupt a man in prayer?"

“You praying?" Merlia mused, slowly striding around the stone slabs that adorned the walls. Her fingers gently crossed the smooth surfaces, pausing over the sections carved with prayers in the human tongue. “For what? A leg up on ole mighty Thor? Trust me bull boy, I might have  wee thing to say about that."

He snorted harshly, his eyes never leaving her as she strolled. She was without her armor, not a scar or scrape of her previous adventure. She was draped in a tan shirt tightly fit, covered with a deep crimson vest. Her trousers were clay colored, her boots of the deepest blacks, tipped with a hint of silver metal. With suspicion he stared, knowing it was more than a rivalry jab at him and his god. “Speak your thoughts Merlia or leave me be. I have no time for our quarrel today." He returned to his kneeling, trying to center himself once more. “Perhaps never again."

Merlia paused, never knowing a follower of the god of battle, much less the one she'd fought beside turn down a challenge. She chuckled to herself, knowing he was troubled. “Listen lad, I heard about what happened today. All the others saw or witnessed it themselves. Think ya might need a night off."

“Of what?" He opened a lone eye, his gaze like fire. “I'll never rest until it's complete. Tonight was just a falter. I'll find another way. Hells or heaven, I'll find it."

“Course, never thought otherwise. But you should consider it lad." She approached, throwing a friendly arm around his broad shoulders. When he looked to her with the hardness of stone she didn't budge, she'd smashed harder before. “Listen, Asterion. The others, they're not like you or me." She lightly smacked him with the back of her hand. “They whine, moan, mew like little babes in the night. That's no good for battle! They must be precise, strong, without fault." Her voice grew soft as she smacked him again, adding in a wink for good measure. “So come now, wipe that blunt look off your muzzle and join us for a laugh. Least for twenty minutes…Well…Thirty…Well…an hour."

He looked to her like she was mad, but the dwarf held her cheery smile, egging him on with a silent gesture. Sighing deep her shoved her away, feeling his armor start to dent and break. “But there is much prayer to be done. Signs of my next act of repentance. I won't see it undone by a night of decadence."

“Bah there you are again with your devotion." She frowned as he went back to his meditation. “Yea it's great but look what ya did today you blasted fool. Brought the dead back, gave the others a choice! Worth a wee bit of decadence, I'd say! All the other minotaurs I've ever met would leap at the chance to revel in this victory, how not you?"

There was silence for a moment, only filled with his gentle breath. When he spoke, it was haggard and tired, like a man who'd walked for years through a desert. “No other minotaur shares my burden. I am not afforded the luxury of comfort, least of all now. You see victory, I see defeat."

“Is that so eh?" Merlia snapped, pulling him to look at her by the horn. “Don't you be scowling and growling at me Bull, I've knocked down a few dozen larger than you. I have a question for you, can you still do your magic?"

He rose his hand, twirling his fingers, whispering words to summon a thin ribbon of red light to his fingers. “Evidently so."

“Then what's got your knickers twisted? If your god were unhappy with ya, he'd take them away! Would he not?"

That stilled his tongue, froze his uncertainty. He was forced to face the look of victory on Merlia's face as she started to laugh.

“See?" She smacked him on the shoulder. “So forget all this praying and come down with us, least for two hours….Well Three. Not a proper celebration if it's not four…five hours."

With the passage of a breath his resistance crumbled away to dust. This infuriating dwarf wasn't going to leave him alone until he'd relented to part of her request. He scowled at her with a heavy snort, ignoring the look of delight shining in her eyes. “I suppose we can't let the others battle efficiency decline."

“There's the spirit."

Several minutes it took to rid the shrine of any evidence of them being there. He was almost proud to look upon the gleaming metal and pristine stone as Merlia dragged him back through the maze like hallways, some of the large enough for a dragon of Storm's stature to pass through without dipping his head. The stone was lined with portraits of handsome figures, humans and elves, endlessly stoic and dripping with importance. Their eyes seemed to follow the pair as they strolled through the well-lit halls. He learned that Voidwing and Nivra would not be attending, too busy flying with pegasai than to give them any time.

“So, explain how we could be having a celebration again? I thought we were bound to this place, in punishment for the theft of Voidwing's feather in the vault?" He tilted his head as they rounded a corner.

“Water under the brigde." Merlia waved away the trouble, “Storm be taking the heat of it I heard, account of it being his wee lass."

“And yourself? You were in prison last I checked."

“Ah yes, more dragon work. Fremra for that one, pulled a few strings. Should have seen the look on our guard, never thought I'd seen something redder! I'm just glad we didn't have to listen to Krotos mewin any longer." She rolled her eyes, raising her hand to imitate the gryphon's speech. “Aw, my feathers are dirty, it's too hot, the floors not the right color. Trust me, we heard everyone."

As the continued Merlia eventually started a lecture on the sturdiness of the stone. She was none too kind to the builders, insisting it was just typical of elves and humans. Lazy and ugly she declared. That it was an insult to the dwarven stone smiths of old.

“Years they spent learning their craft, to lovingly do it by hand! You can see the work and sweat in every piece of work! But no, look at this shoddy work!" She stopped to jab a finger to a tiny section of stone, bearing the tiny fragment sign of magical weaving. “Lazy!" She shook her head in disgust, “Absolute disgrace!" By the time they'd found the others, Asterion's ears ached, begging for any conversation.

“Finally." He muttered as they emerged to a great hall, cutting off the latest lecture about how the dwarven bagpipe was the greatest instrument of all.

The hall was clearly made for dragons, stretching so wide and tall that several dragons could stand side by side with their wings outstretched and not touch either side. Buttresses jutted from the ceiling, carved to resemble the scales of dragons, adorned with chandeliers of the finest crystal that gleamed in the light. At the far end was a massive table only fit for a dragon, like a mountain before the others. At it's feet were two mortal sized tables that ran the length of the hall. They were deep red-brown, weathered and scratched, years of delight and warmth having passed above their gaze. What brought life to this grand place was a towering fireplace, roaring to prominence with massive, crackling flames. Before it was several couches, draped in thick wool blankets, where Azzik and Feku were cuddling close, chatting away with cups of cocoa held tight within their grasps.

At a fleeting glance this place might seem dead, the life within but a sliver of what it was capable of. Though as the cleric stood he could feel the tendrils of warmth spread over him like a wave of the ocean, massaging his spirits to life. His companions were near the end, gathered around what looked to be a feast fit for a king, metal plates gleaming with samplings of meat, vegetables and fruits from all over the kingdom. With a deep breath his stomach bit at him, reminding how tired he was of biscuits and rations. It seemed the barbarian Tenzin was of the same mind, the ilbir was hovering over this assortment of food, forming a mountain of decadence on his plate.

Arcturus and Veledar were locked in a heated match of chess, neither wishing to divide their attention from the board. By the look of things, Arcturus was winning, made evident by the confident grin upon his face. “Check." He casually remarked, leaning back into his cushioned chair.

“You're cheating." Veledar hissed, fire in his gaze as he thumped his tail.

Arcturus scoffed, “You can't call it cheating every time you're on the backfoot!"

“I certainly can, and you are!" Veledar retorted with a dramatic head flail, placing a paw to his chest. “There can be no other explanation. Otherwise, I'd be winning! I've been playing this game before you were born!"

“This game is silly." Tenzin muttered, slamming his furred rear into a nearby seat, making the poor wood groan. “There is no sport, no sweat, no struggle. Bah." He tore into a turkey leg with his teeth.

They didn't appear to be in low spirits, in need of a morale boost? The warrior grabbed Merlia's shoulder firmly and spun her around. “You spoke of doubts, problems with cohesion. They look fine to me…You've deceived me."

“Only partially you ninny." Merlia chortled, plucking his hand from her. “Give them a look, a good, proper look. They're your friends, your group. Besides, everyone could always use a morale boost if you ask me."

He scowled at the dwarven woman as her grin gleamed in the firelight. This was the respect he and his beliefs received? With a resounding snort he stomped his way to the food, unable to resist the call of his stomach. He'd put an end to his hunger and return to his prayers. With aggression he slammed slabs of duck and ham onto his plate, drawing the attention of each of his friends.

“Finally, Asterion comes to free me of this boredom." Tenzin cheered, raising up a tankard and taking a long swig. “The festivities can finally begin. Here I thought it was merely I that would be reveling."

“That's not fair, I'm reveling." Arcturus remarked, gesturing to the board as Veledar rolled his eyes.

“You wanted us to discuss battle plans and such for the undead." The dragon grumbled. “So, don't start with this 'I want to revel' nonsense. It was hard enough convincing you."

“I agreed to put it aside for a night!" The knight countered as the dragon groaned. “Excuse me if I don't want to be a drunken fool."

“Guess we just settle for the normal variety of fool then?" Merlia chuckled as the man's argument died with the ever reddening of his cheeks. With her job done and Asterion now loudly devouring his meal she extracted her pipe, having to offer the first puff to Tenzin as he slid over.

“You're too kind." The big man remarked, his ears splayed cutely on either side.

“Think nothing of it." She winked, “Always had a fondness for cats. Even ones three times my size." They shared a laugh before resting back in their seats. He offered her a bottle of wine, with merely a swig left at the bottom. “Where you get this?" She sniffed the earthy smelling drink, swishing around the crimson liquid.

“Kobold said from her finest stock." He smiled blissfully, his eyes closed. “Best wine for best kitty." He chuckled amusingly at the childish title. “Who was I to argue?"

Merlia turned the bottle of crystal over. It was of fine make, far too fine for Feku's claws. Since when did she have a stock?  “To my dearest Threllfall on our wedding night, may our marriage last over the years." She read from the label in a blunt manner. Her eyes widened; silence fell between them as she realized what this meant. Unbashfully she threw back her head, letting loose a resounding belly laugh to the heavens.

Arcturus merely sighed, snatching the bottle from the still laughing dwarf's hands and read for himself the label. Setting it down with a clink he set his sights on the cozy looking kobolds. “It would appear I'll need to have a talk with our bard about property and ownership." He remarked bitterly, getting ready to stride over and chew her out. Though as he caught her smile and cheerful expression, talking to her long last love, the need for justice died within the paladin's heart. The talk could wait for tomorrow.

“If you do. I'll be gnawing on your boots come morning." Veledar snorted, flicking the man a sharpened glare.

“I already decided to let it slide for the night!" Arcturus replied as the dragon gestured back to their fresh game.

“Now get back to your cheating."

“I'm not cheating!"

Veledar rolled his eyes, snorting in derision, “Debatable."

Asterion chewed and ripped apart his food, unburdened by the human concept of decency. Juices ran down his fingers, chunks of meat flopped to his plate, he slurped and grunted, rivaling the beasts of old. He stewed within his darkened thoughts, marinating with doubt and trouble, whispering things to drag him ever down into the muck. If he'd failed, then it truly meant he had nothing. No clan, no god, nothing to lift him. So what of the Dwarf's thought of his magic? He'd had it before while on his quest, that wouldn't help him. The question remained if he should even stay with them, he'd gotten from them what he wanted after all.

But that isn't right. A voice grunted at him, practically slapping the wallowing cleric across the head. As his chewing slowed, he looked to the others, seeing the warmth surrounding them all. He could see their struggles, their battles they'd won, the future ones they might share. In some strange way, these odd creatures had become a clan in of themselves. One that was recognized by minotaur kind? That could hold land and bring great honor? Hardly. Though he himself was cast out of minotaur society anyway, what did he care? His chewing stilled and so did the warrior.

“Asterion." Merlia finally poked him, wondering why the minotaur was like a statue, a piece of meat sticking out his lips. Realizing his error, the man shook his head, sucking in the meat.

“Sorry." He remarked with a grunt, “Was deep in thought."

“Not deep enough apparently. Have a brother he went three days in a corner, couldn't be woken. Bat balls off his head we did." She laughed at the absurd image, crossing her heart. “True story." When he didn't laugh, she straightened her back, offering him her pipe and concerned green eyes. “Bout the beach?"

He nodded softly, taking the extended pipe. It was a small, thin thing, with dwarven runes carved into the fine wood. He could see signs of Thor's symbol upon this item. He almost recoiled, time ago he might have, but not now. “Not all of them returned. I fear the spell might not have been correct, that my honor is not yet clean."

“You be worrying over nothin." Merlia scoffed, “Done it wrong? You brought the dead to life Asterion! How could you have done it wrong?"

His brow furrowed his gut churned, yet he didn't have an answer to give her. Why had the others not wished to return? Was it because they were far too removed from their village? Was it because they didn't forgive him? That they wished for him to suffer for all eternity? He stared at his palms, imagining the blood still stained upon them, his soul shivered.

“Listen lad." Merlia leaned over, thumping his back. “But ya need to shut ye shitehole yer fannybaw."

“Excuse me?"

“Yer getting bent out of shape cause a bunch of souls didn't want ta leave eternal happiness? Boohoo. I don't know many Minotaur, but you're right as rain in my tome. You fought by me side, you suffered and pulled us outa scrapes with the best of em. If Korde doesn't forgive ya for that, than he can tongue my fartbox, the fucking wolloper."

He was too stunned for words over her utter dismissal of the divine. Years ago he might have fought her over these words, insisted that she insulted his honor and demanded to fight her. Especially from a follower of Thor, but he didn't say a word as she smirked and lit her pipe, chuckling to herself. She was right, in a way. Just because the souls hadn't accepted, didn't mean he failed. His quest wasn't a failure as he thought. He couldn't help but smile as his spirits soared.

“Ah there ya are." She winked, “Thought ya were going to be an utter cockwobble."

“No, you're right." He sighed, searching her up and down. Then for good measure he punched her across the face, knocking her to the ground. As she sputtered with laughter at the surprise he offered her a concerned hand, while waving off the other looks of concern around him. “But go insulting Korde like that again and you'll have a proper fight on your hands."

“Well I'd hope so!" She smiled, wiping the blood from her lips and standing up. “Otherwise, I'd make a comment how his good for nothin clergy are a bunch of sniveling babies! Like the big red one over there!" She gestured to Veledar with a grin.

The dragon growled softly in his throat, staring daggers at the laughing dwarf as his tail flicked gently behind him.

“That's right, good. Violence isn't the answer." Arcturus remarked calmly, stroking gently along his scaled throat.

“You're right." Veledar remarked calmly.

Arcturus sighed in relief, the last thing they needed was broken furniture over a dragon's prideful squabble. “See? You're growing."

He crouched with a smirk, muscles building with anticipation. If she wanted to play games like a dragon, she'd be treated as one. “Violence isn't the answer…It's the question…And the answer is yes!"

“No!" Arcturus shouted out as Veledar threw himself at the red-faced dwarf, chasing her cackling form around the hall like their early days.

“Get back here you pint sized devil! Make fun of me, will you?" Veledar roared, playfully swatting at her behind, always barely missing her. Everyone simply watched, laughing in amusement over their antics. That was until his paw cracked a chair right down the middle, sending splinters every which way around the room. An antique destroyed in a second flat. Everyone froze in horror, except Tenzin.

“Did you see that?" Smash!" The warrior hugged his sides, miming what the dragon had done.

It was then that Achaaz and Krotos returned with brightened smiles, a cart filled with kegs of wine in tow. Plastered on the fine wood were symbols of a blue dragon, no doubt the sign of Storm's personal stock. The teal dragoness seemed unconcerned with this as she and the gryphon stacked up their offering, insisting it was a 'gift' from her father.

“And can we go ask if that is true?" Arcturus asked, his brow raised as the others clambered over each other for a taste the ancient dragon adored.

“If you want to." Achaaz replied, looking away innocently, though Arcturus couldn't help note her frills flushed with blood. “Though mother is keeping father occupied you know." She coughed and pretended to gag, “Gross I know, but still."

“Can we go watch?" Krotos tilted his head with a chirp.

“Least someone is sharing in carnal activities." Tenzin loudly announced, shoving the others aside to fill his tankard with the deep purple liquid. “Back in Azemeth, we had orgies in celebrations like this. Dedicated to the loving Parunga! But no, that's not 'polite' here."

“Well, we're all civilized here! We just can't go out mating in the street!" Arcturus remarked, the next to fill his tankard. He side eyed Veledar as the dragon snickered, a mischievous smirk on his scaled snout. “And it's going to stay that way!"

“Oh I'd never dream of suggesting it." Veledar placed a paw to his chest, turning to Tenzin with an innocent gleam in his eyes. “Though Tenzin, question. Could we ever visit where you're from…For anthropological reasons of course."

The warrior moved closer, leaning against his scales with a laugh, “That you may dragon. Though we need not be there to have a 'culture' exchange." They shared a laugh before gesturing Arcturus over, turning the man's cheeks beet red when they let him in on this suggested culture exchange. He could only stutter and down his drink.

The night continued as if guided by an invisible hand, uniting the many races of this adventuring group. They sang together in disorganized tunes, jumbled together in a mess that was sure to offend everyone who heard it. They ate, drank, engaged in arm wrestling, staring contests, and even dart throwing (which Merlia won easily). With every passing hour of merriment, the cleric's troubles seemed a distant thing, falling upon someone else. He shared in drink, laughed, and knew that he was home. How could he have thought of leaving this mismatched clan? He leaned back on the soft couch, basking in the fire's warmth.

“Asterion. I have a personal question." Tenzin planted himself down beside him, a drunken glaze about his blue eyes as he focused intently on the bull's horns. “I and the noble knight have a bet."

“You're not supposed to tell him!" Arcturus shouted from his seat, ignoring how Veledar and Achaaz were wrestling behind him, gnawing at each other's scales with furious growls.

The cleric scoffed, amusement in him as he rolled his hand to continue.

“Your horns. I say if you're about to go through a doorway too small, your horns will feel this and keep you from being decapitated." The ilbir couldn't help but smile with confidence, he knew he was right.

“And I win if it's anything else." Arcturus added.

Asterion chuckled in amusement, “They're not for feeling doors."

“Damnt." Tenzin cursed, ears drooping.

“Yes!" Arcturus exclaimed as Tenzin, retreating to the paladin to discuss his payment.

Eventually the night dragged at each of them, pulling eyes and limbs to still. Feku and Achaaz slept within each other's arms, lost in their dreams come true. Achaaz and Veledar were sprawled lazily across the floor, snoozing before the burned-out coals. Arcturus and Tenzin were slumped back over the couches, snoring loudly with drool hanging down their lips. Merlia and Krotos could not be found, but the minotaur could only guess where they'd gotten off to. He chuckled wearily as Nivra tried to creep on in, careful to not make a sound. Voidwing was clearly on her heels, lust gleaming in his apricot eyes.

“Oh." Nivra stopped, noticing the bull's alertness. She slid right over, an amused look on her face as she scanned the sleeping form of the others. “Fun night?"

He nodded softly, “You?" He peered back to Voidwing, who approached with a respectful nod.

“Thank you again." The gryphon muttered.

“And you can stop that." Asterion grunted in dismissal. “You've already said that ten times."

“He's only grateful." Nivra drew closer, placing a hand on his shoulder as Voidwing retreated with an apology. She stared down into the minotaur's eyes, letting him know she was as grateful as her bodyguard for how the day played out. “As am I. You plucked a shard of light from the darkness today."

He smiled warmly to her, patting her hand before gesturing for her to run along. “Before whatever spirit grips you leaves. Go, share a warm bed, enjoy whatever it is you two will get up to."

The pair chuckled to one another before insisting that was what they would do. Voidwing trotted along, a sway in his hips. Nivra was the one to linger, thanking the minotaur again before offering a gentle kiss upon his forehead, then running along with her now chirping love.

He watched them depart, the flames in his heart never dulling. He scoffed at the thought, thinking for a moment he'd simply gone soft. That he'd somehow become less minotaur during these travels. He dismissed these with a shake of his head. “You're were you need to be." He muttered softly to himself, “For better or for worse. This is your clan now."

*

Ramakox the blue dragon strolled through the halls of his home, a sternness in his stride. Long ago men and woman would obey his commands, find themselves encouraged to great acts of heroism or villainy. His deeds carried weight, songs were spun in reverence, the mere mention of his name could turn armies around. No longer it seemed as he strode the halls of his home, his tail softly flicking behind him.

From the royal marsh to the gryphon's path, the movement of the undead seemed all encompassing. The lupine scouts followed their every corrupted step, feeding intel to what remained of their forces through their lands. Obsidian Guardians rallied and saved what people they could, delivering them to safer places south or to Struport herself. But each day that passed, more reports of loses, the dead count was ever rising. Storm couldn't help but listen to the dead, always hearing someone he'd known, shared drinks with, read stories of contemplated the world. Though he was only in his late four hundreds, it felt as though he'd lived too long. Perhaps that's why his relatives had forsaken the company of mortals? The time they had was ever fleeting, much too fragile in body or age to truly earn the trust of a dragon.

He paused with a mournful sigh, remembering the ages that passed him by. When he too he had been like this, a towering lord above their diminutive, lesser forms. He shivered, his scales that were known to turn sword and spears now thinner than paper. Even his evening flight had done little to cast away his dower spirits, nor his report with Rositta, the sapphire guardian keep commander. That woman always knew how to lift his spirits, either with good tea or a joke. He'd even turned down the evening poker game, insisting he would retire with a good scroll. They'd shared a knowing look, the dark skinned woman had known he was lying, and he was too prideful to admit it.

It was only when he'd came across the antics of his daughter and the adventurers in the hall did his thick, bleak fog lift for a moment, replacing with a raging fire beneath his paws.

They were reveling, destroying his fine furniture? Ones gifted to him by members of the red hand persuaded into friendship? Storm growled, his eyes sharp as his claws as he noted they were enjoying his spirits. Ones he'd been saving for plenty of years, some he'd gathered far before the likes of Jandar had graced his home as a boy! It was all the sizable dragon could do to not stomp his way into this merriment and end it with a snarl, one that he was certain would drain the color of each face. He swallowed it with a shaky breath, his youthful, brash anger tempered by years of wisdom.

Patience, observe, look before you leap. With a harsh snort he sought out his beloved to justify the building flames within his heart. Through the spiraling hallways of chiseled stone he found her, hidden deep within a cavern where only the most important of the sapphire guardian's could tread. Most knew not of it's presence, only a select few and the queen herself knew. It was here that the shard of Bahamut was held.

It was an unassuming thing, a pool of shimmering, silver water, rumored to be the fragment of the dragon goddess Bahamut herself. Smooth rocks lined the edges, pristine and no sign of the numerous years. They were far older than Emerald Lady herself if that were to be believed. The water pulsed like a heartbeat, filling the dim cavern with a faint light, touching upon the faint mist with it's silvery splendor. The air here was hot and moist, a perfect place for a sea dragon like his mate. It was here that she was curled, fast asleep around the magical pool. Her eyes gently shut, her breaths steady, a gentle flicker of her frilled tail. To any other she would be a marvelous beast, but to Storm, she was the most beautiful thing on this earth. Save for his children of course.

His stride stilled, his breath slowed as he took in the serene scene. Just her and the four stoic Ruby Guardians around the pool. With gleaming plate mail painted with roses, these men and woman stood at attention, armed to the teeth. Newly on their shift, he could see the strain of the day had not yet hounded them. If he were anyone else, they'd have their weapons drawn and ready to strike. Such was their bravery. They instead gave the dragon a welcoming nod.

 Could he wake his beloved from her slumber over such a petty thing? He gazed upon her, lingering on her teal scaled snout, buried in a royal blue cushion. Something Jandar had stitched for her years ago on a hatchday. Some may have worried over waking a sleeping dragon, but he was in no such danger. In silence the grand dragon stood, contemplating his actions before with a heavy sigh, turning to depart. He'd find another way to vent his frustration. Perhaps Rositta had a place at the table after all…That's when Fremra's eye opened.

“Let me guess…" She rumbled softly in amusement, “Our daughter stole our wine?" The dragoness rose her head, yawning before leveling the dragon with a knowing stare, one she often had during their years together. “When will you learn their antics will never end?"

He cocked his head, knowing that look on her snout. She always knew more than she let on. “You knew of this?" He approached, striding around the guards in plate mail. “And did nothing? That was our finest wine! I was saving that for a special occasion!"

“Bringing back the dead isn't a special occasion?" Fremra chuckled in dismissal, waving a paw. “I must be deluded somehow."

He rolled his eyes, kneading the stone beneath him. “Only after our daughter broke into the Ruby guardian's vaults. You should have heard Alonzo go on, there will be hell to pay." He planted himself on his haunches beside her, tail curling over his hinds. “I thought I taught her better."

Fremra merely rose, stretching like a cat as she did so. “To adhere to the human's bureaucracy? Since when have dragons done this? I'd certainly love to know." As he flashed her a stern look, she strolled innocently under his jaw, making sure to seductively rub her scales across his throat.

“Flirting will get you no where you know. This matter is serious." He rumbled, fighting the burning in his scales.

“Deadly serious." She whispered playfully back, coiling around the dragon like a scarf. “We can't have our daughter helping those in need. Think of the scandal!"

“Fremra." He caught her as she laughed, giving the dragoness a steady stare, “We've done this before…You know what happened when we took an active role in human affairs." There was a silence between them as Fremra grimaced. Both remembered the destruction of their previous home of east cliff, where a cult had proceeded to try and burn it for their role in shaping the politics.

“You need not remind me of the Red Hand." She snorted, pulling away with her snout high. “But I'll not have you insist that what Achaaz did was wrong."

“I'm not-“ He sighed heavily as she strolled back around the pool, gingerly looking upon it's surface with a wondering look. He joined at her side, “Look, I wish she'd been less…Brash…It puts us in a difficult position. You know this."

She did, nodding softly as the blue dragon nuzzled at her snout. She pressed back, fighting off the rumble through her neck. She pulled back, meeting his gaze with a sternness only rivaled usually by his. “I'll share words tomorrow on the method of how she did it. Not the why. I'd have done the same in her paws."

“And what where you doing?"

“Stuff."

Storm merely snorted, this he supposed was going to be as good as he got. Back Fremra went to peering at the waters, a playful swish in her tail. It was then that he realized what his mate was going to do. “You're going to tell her be more secretive aren't you."

“Why would I ever do that?" Fremra mused, a hint of mischief in her tone.

How she got under his scales in the most delightful of ways. The blue dragon merely sighed as the love of his life flicked the pool with a paw, almost expecting something to happen. “What brings you to the Pool of Bahamut?" He gestured to the calm waters, not catching a reflection within.

“You very well know it's a Shard of Bahamut." She countered, planting a digit upon his snout, making Storm go cross-eyed.

“It looks like a pool." He grumbled definitely, gently batting away her paw.

“It's a fragment of a goddess. No matter what physical form it takes, it's a shard."

He sat beside her, their tails coiling around one another like they typically did. With a deep rumble he nuzzled against her, wrapping a tender wing around her form. Into him she pressed, shivering with a terrible cold. How odd he thought, licking across her snout. “Well my beloved, Pool, shard, sword or cloud, what brings you to the shard."

There was a tentative gulp that send a quiver through the teal ness, bringing a cloud of doubt to her eyes. She peered up, right into the gaze of her beloved, her heart all aflutter with unease. “I communed with the orb my dear." She admitted, looking away the moment she did so. “I had to see for myself what the poor Nivra experienced."

Taken back the blue dragon rose a brow, fighting his gasp of surprise. “Even after the danger she stressed?"

She nodded softly, “I was careful. Preparations were made to boost my natural ability to shrug off enchantments. I would not have my mind captivated by this orb…" She trailed off, shaking as she did so. “Though the temptation was always there. Whoever lurks within this orb was deathly powerful. I could feel it with every word it whispered and hissed. In the hands of someone terrible, it could unleash unspeakable harm upon this world."

“You think that could be the case?" He pressed in, seeing a look of uncertainty he'd never seen in her face in many of years. “And what of the Emperor? The future queen spoke of this great threat. Only one the Sea Lilly could help against."

Her brow furrowed at the thought. The voice had not spoke of any plan, only that she had to be found. “Perhaps it had decayed too much over time. The only concrete thought it even had was about the Emerald Lady. That she was playing right into the Emperor's claws. Other than that it was a jumbled mess of wibbly wobbly…Stuff."

“Her?" Storm hissed, the fire in his blood returning. He pulled away from his beloved, feeling the heat spread through the rest of him. Even at the mention of her name he wished to tera that wretched dragoness apart, set something ablaze. “What has she got to do with this?"

Again, Fremra had no answer, only the spirit's warning upon her lips. That whatever scheme she was planning would result in her children's deaths. The dragoness whined softly as Storm began to pace, letting out his frustration with deep growls through his throat. Fremra knew the pain the green ness had caused him over the years, could she convince him to let that go for the time being? She rose to calm the swirling fury of fury in Storm's chest when a tiny voice filled the hall.

“I'll have you know I'm off to bed." The human Axton called from the entrance to the grand room, seeming a tiny ant before a mountain. Wrapped in thick blue robes of the Drenedarian mages, the teen held tight a sizable stack of tomes. Each of them bound with leather, filled with countless magical study and theory.

“Have you finished doing all the routines and motions?" Storm turned to the human, a change overtaking his snout. From stern and angry blossomed life and warmth. The dragon stopped his pacing, his grumbling died. Sunlight seemed to shine within his soul as he cracked a smile with Axton's eager nodding. “And what do you think of it? I did help refine some of the techniques you know."

“Marvelous." The kid beamed, hugging tight his books, nearly spilling them over the cavern floor. Red faced; he'd just managed to hold onto them. “And that's not being biased that you helped. I'd never thought of some of these things. I could lose myself for hours!"

“Well don't do that tonight." The dragon mused with a rumble, shooing the human away with a wing. “You'll need your sleep. Don't want to see you turning into one of those second rate Lumarian magicians, who need three cups of Mitarinok to even function!" He shared his laughter with the bright faced mortal, who nodded and scampered off towards his bed chambers. Storm watched, knowing he'd stroll by later that evening to peek into his bed chambers, be reminded of times long since passed. When he was dreaming of greater things, counting the days he had with Jandar all those years ago. His tail started to swish all on it's own.

“Well, that's an expression I hadn't seen in quite some time." Fremra chuckled at Storm's side. She'd slipped over to him without a sound, he was too deep in the past.

“What expression is that?" He stammered, holding up his head.

“The look of a pleased Father." Again, she tapped his nose.

“I look pleased all the time." He scoffed, batting her away as she giggled.

“Since when?"

“All the time, I suppose you simply don't notice." He huffed, striding back towards the pool, Fremra right on his heels.

“That can't be right. I'm clever and devilishly observant."

“I suppose you fail to decipher it then." He grumbled, “Not all of us can be bubbly, bouncing, shining stars, easily read like a favored scroll. Some of us are as sturdy and regal as the mountains. Majestic as elven literature."

“But the mountains eventually get worn down." She playfully remarked, grinning when his snout shot back to hers. “Until they eventually crumble."

He sighed as she happily nuzzled at his snout, starting one of their usual wrestling matches. Across the floor they tumbled, laughing, and rumbling as they nipped at one another's scales. All the while under the watchful eye of their emotionless guards. Paws met one another with snapping maws, an onlooker might think they were a pair of playful dogs. She'd retreat he'd pounce; he'd bounce away and she'd be right to snap upon his tail. They eventually collapsed laughing, peering into each other's eyes.

“See? You're not a mountain." She stuck out her tongue, batting at him softly with a paw.

He rolled his eyes with a snort.

“Which makes what I have to ask easier." She righted herself to her belly, composing her expression with a snort. “I think we should tell Ossai about what is going to befall her. What is going to happen to her son."

That couldn't be right. He must have heard wrong. Storm rose, smacking softly at his ear, earning a confused cock of Fremra's head. He hadn't. Inside his blood began to sizzle. “You want us to help her? After all she's done, all the lives she's ruined? Misery she's cultivated?" He stared resolute into his mate's eyes, “You're aware she finds that lich we have below an ally?"

“Yes." Fremra replied softly, laying a paw tenderly upon his chest. Passionate eyes held Storm's gaze, disarmed his usual bluster and fire. “I need you to set all that aside for me."

“Why should I?" He remarked harshly, thumping his tail. “She'd never do the same for us! If this position were reversed, she'd let out loved ones die. She has done this." His eyes filled with fire, all too aware of his friend's deaths and the capture of their daughter, Infinity.

“That matters not." Fremra insisted, shaking her head. “I know a parent could not bear to lose one's own children. Even Ossai in all her terrible, twisted morals. Even she would falter against such an outcome." She pressed to him when he stubbornly looked away, “Would you wish to be told? Think my beloved, this could be a bridge on which we could mend. Instead of letting them burn and the world be worser for it."

She held his heart in sway like no other soul could. Arguments he'd held beneath him bubbled to the surface and died within her empathetic eyes. His soul shivered, her empathy was far greater than his on the best of days. She was asking him to put aside years of anger, decades of seething hatred that would make his days burn with fury. All this for a fleeting chance she might show a sliver of kindness? Though his mind recoiled at the idea, the longer he stared into those lavender eyes of the one he loved, he knew he would not resist. He sighed and drooped, pressing against her, his voice low. “What do you think she will do? Will telling her only aid this Emperor? If she's connected, should any plan she concocted be thrown out? How do you know this will be right?"

“I don't." She admitted flatly, nuzzling back to him. “But how could I turn her away? I've known the death of my children, so have you. I'd never wish that upon my worse enemy. The spirit said to find me, I say to do this. Would you have me deny my gut? I trust you beyond anyone else, say but the word and I'll drop this."

There they stood, locked within each other's gaze, unwilling to tear themselves away. Silence wrapped them tight, swirling around the choice that would change the very course of what was to come. To aid an enemy and make a potential ally? Or to let the scales fall where they would? Storm grumbled and fought every ounce of his being, choosing to trust in the one he loved. “She will be warned then." He remarked dryly, grumbling with reservation as Fremra trilled and nuzzled at his neck.

Without words they stared into the pool of shimmering water, pondering the outcome of their choice. For good or ill they would see this to it's end. Rumbling softly they retired for the eve, insisting the guards have a quiet night. Like lovers of their younger years they trotted, chasing at one another down the halls. Tomorrow would bring choices to shape the future, tonight they would relish the company of each other. Quiet as mice they checked in upon Axton, finding the human soundly asleep in his bed chambers, filled with what things a young mage might require. Their hearts swelled at his tiny, slumbering face, pulling them back to so many years ago.

Kissing with sweet rumbles upon their lips they pressed against one another, falling upon their nest of blankets the moment they crashed into their bed chambers. Deep and powerful, filled with ferocity that none but a dragon could match. The sounds of their passion echoed off the cavern walls, blushing the cheeks of any unlucky enough to hear it. Tonight, was a time for celebration and life, tomorrow would be filled with choices meant to shape the very path of the world.

* * * * * * * *

If you feel like contacting me on telegram for like video games and stuff, I can be found at @CrimsnSky . Been having fun playing diablo 2 atm.

Thanks for following along with the story and commenting! It keeps the spirits up and the fingers flowing. If you liked the chapter don't forget to like and favorite, helps the chapter get seen. If you feel like commenting by all means, it helps me know what you like and dislike. (And typos and stuff)