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Chapter One Hundred Six

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“Mirelle?” Revaramek beckoned his friend closer, after he and Nyra collected themselves. “I think we’re ready now.”

“Are you sure?” Concern etched itself across Mirelle’s furrowed brow. “Is everything alright?”

Revaramek glanced at Nyra, sighing. “I think so. Nyra fears that I have not properly accepted that I might lose her. And she fears if I do, I will…” The dragon grit his teeth, his tail coiling. “Blame myself for failing to save her. Even if it was never truly possible.”

Mirelle’s face twisted. She gently rubbed the dragon’s shoulder. “Nyra knows you all too well, Rev. If you need more time to discuss things, we can postpone this for a few days. The healers will understand.”

Revaramek shook his head. “No, Nyra would rather just get this over with. But thank you for your concern.”

“Of course.” Mirelle smiled. “How about I get you a drink, too? I suspect you could use it.”

“That I could.” Revaramek arched his neck. “Your largest, classiest remaining bucket, for your benevolent overlord.”

“Right away, Sir.” Mirelle fetched another oversized vessel, and filled it with the same golden ale she’d brought Nyra. She returned and set it before Revaramek. It was pewter, and sculpted to look like layers of overlapping scales, with a handle resembling an outstretched wing. “Here you are, my Lord. Our second classiest bucket.”

Revaramek gave an appreciative rumble. “Not bad, for a bucket.” He nuzzled Mirelle’s hair. “Thank you, Mirelle. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, Rev.” Mirelle hugged his head. “I’ll send the chief healer over.”

After Mirelle turned away, Revaramek tasted his ale. Delicious notes of honey, spices, and bittersweet fruits balanced out its warming booziness. It was one of the stronger ales Mirelle and Beka brewed, if not as strong as the many bottled spirits displayed on shelves behind the bar. Revaramek took another drink, savoring the flavors.

The dragon nudged Nyra with his muzzle. “Our conversation aside, is the drink helping your nerves?”

Nyra offered him a small smile. “A little. It’s certainly making me feel…” She scrunched her muzzle. “Different? I think I’d enjoy it more if not for…” She glanced at the approaching healer. “All this.”

“I know, love.” Revaramek patted her forepaw. “When this is all behind us, you can get good and drunk if you’d like.”

She tilted her head. “I don’t know if I’d like that or not.”

“Only one way to find out.” Revaramek licked her cheek. Then he turned his attention towards the older human woman who stopped just before him. Crimson marks of rank adorned her golden medical uniform and surgeon’s vestments. “Hello.”

“Hello, Revaramek.” The woman offered a stiff bow. “My name is Binir. We’re ready to begin, if we have permission from you and your mate.”

Revaramek dipped his head, returning her bow. “A pleasure to meet you, Binir.” He glanced at Nyra, idly caressing her forepaw. “Relatively speaking. Nyra does not yet speak your language, so I will translate between you as needed. Other than that, I shall endeavor to keep my muzzle shut, and let you do your jobs.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mirelle said.

“Yes, thank you for your vote of confidence, Mirelle.” Revaramek chuckled, bumping his nose against Nyra’s ear. “Ready for them to begin?”

Nyra flattened her frills. “No, but let us be done with it.”

“Agreed, love.” Revaramek gently stroked her foreleg. “If you need a break, or want them to stop, just tell me. I’ll put an end to things immediately.”

Binir summoned the other doctors, and they began their group examination. One of them counted Nyra’s respirations, and another her pulse rate. Special devices were used to listen to her heart and lungs. Two of them tested her paw pads for blood flow, pressing on them to watch them pale and then color again when the pressure was released. Another peered into Nyra’s eyes with magnifying lenses. A va’chaak healer looked inside Nyra’s mouth. All the while they jotted down notes and numbers. The whole process left Nyra tense and uncomfortable, yet she bore it without complaint.

Revaramek helped Nyra ease over onto her side when it was time for her wound to be inspected. Binir warned the process may be uncomfortable. Revaramek held Nyra’s paw as the healers poked and prodded at her discolored scar. The longer it went on, the tighter her grip grew, and the more she bared her fangs. Yet never did Revaramek ask her to ease her grip, even as his forepaw ached. If Nyra could bear the pain without complaint, so could he. And bear it, she did. When they pressed upon her in ways that made her hiss, she distracted herself with a long drink of ale. As the pain worsened, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced slow, deep breaths through grit teeth.

Finally, it was over. Nyra slowly relaxed her grip. She laid her head across Revaramek’s neck. “Thank you for being here, Rev. I hope I didn’t hurt your paw.”

“Not at all,” Revaramek said, ignoring the ache. “A pale shadow of your experience. I was happy to help you through it.”

As most of the healers retreated to discuss their findings, Binir once more stood before the dragons. “We’ve completed our assessment. Firstly, do please give her my apologies for the discomfort we had to put her through.” She waited as Revaramek did so, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m afraid our findings are just as we feared.” The older woman’s voice was as stern as the well-set lines in her face. “The tissues throughout her wound remain too inflamed to heal properly.”

Revaramek licked his nose, his frills low. “Do you know why?”

Binir scowled. “Our best guess is a lingering infection from….” She shook her head. “Well, something unfamiliar in that swamp, most likely. The good news is that so far, her body remains strong enough to keep the infection from spreading.” Her scowl deepened, darkening her countenance. “The bad news, however, is that she does not seem strong enough to completely fight it off. If not treated, it may eventually overwhelm her, and spread throughout her body.”

“That means you have to cut her open, right?” Revaramek’s ears drooped.

Binir nodded. “If we excise all the infected tissue, she should heal up properly. She still has the strength for that, at least. However, over the coming years-”

Revaramek lifted a forepaw. “One crisis at a time, please. Let me tell her.” He turned towards his mate. “Nyra, she says-”

“You needn’t translate,” Nyra said, solemn. “Her tone of voice alone tells me they want to slice away the rot.” She stared at the ugly, half-healed scar along her belly. Nyra snarled, just under her breath. Determination crept into her voice when she spoke again, word by steely word. “But that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Tell them to get it over with.”

“Very well, Nyra.” Revaramek nuzzled her, before switching back into the common tongue to address Binir. “She’s ready when you are. The sooner you’re finished, the better.”

“I understand.” Binir clasped her hands. “Give us a few minutes to prepare the sleeping medicines.” She clucked her tongue, slowly looking Revaramek over. “If your mate is alright with it…” She glanced at Nyra. “It will be easiest if you wait outside during the procedure itself. Otherwise…”

When she trailed off, Revaramek sighed. “I’d be in the way.”

“And we’ll work easier without an anxious dragon questioning our every move.” Binir smiled, then gestured at the ground. “And we should re-sterilize the area before we actually begin.” She bowed. “I’ll give you a moment to talk to her.” She turned away, rejoining her associates.

Revaramek gently squeezed Nyra’s paw. “They’re going to prepare something to help you sleep through it. Once you’re asleep, though, I’m going to have to wait outside.” He nosed her. “If that’s alright with you, at least.”

Nyra lifted her frills, smiling. “I understand, Rev. I wouldn’t want to watch them cut your belly open, either.”

“What?” Revaramek blinked, curling his neck. “Firstly, love, they’re hardly cutting your belly open. Just…” He held his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. “A tiny little incision. Barely more than a scratch.”

Nyra snorted. “If that’s all their doing, I may as well just do it myself. Why, that’s hardly any smaller than your-”

“Secondly,” Revaramek said, pointedly cutting her off. “It’s not that I want to wait outside. I’d simply be in their way, lying next to you. That, and my presence would make them anxious.”

“Well…” Nyramyn circled an unsheathed claw tip against the linens she lay upon. “I don’t blame them. Our bond dictates you would have to slay them, if they make a mistake.”

Revaramek patted her foreleg. “That I would! But let’s not tell them that. Now, Nyra.” He cupped her chin, gazing into her eyes. “If you want me to stay by your side, just tell me. They’ll have to find a way to accommodate me, and that’s that.”

Nyra flattened her ears, whining. “I do want you here, but…” She looked at the gathered healers, busy grinding together herbs and powders. “I don’t want to make things more difficult. Where would you be?”

“Just outside the back doors.” Revaramek stretched a wing, pointing. “Right there. I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep, and I’ll be right back at your side the moment you’re awake.”

“So…” Nyra licked her muzzle, her ears still pinned. “I’d scarcely even know you were gone.”

“That’s right.” Revaramek caressed her neck, pads gently sliding across her scales. “Even then, I’ll only be a few steps away.” A smile parted his muzzle. “Ready to charge in here and incinerate the lot of them, should I hear so much as an ‘oops’ from anyone!”

Nyramyn laughed, her ears lifted. “You’d better. Just be careful not to slaughter poor Mirelle in your quest for revenge. She’ll be needed to find us more capable healers.”

“And make us more alcohol,” Revaramek said, glancing towards the bar. “Besides, if I accidentally kill Mirelle, she’ll probably haunt me. Hell, she’ll possess every pair of boots she can find. I’ll be getting kicked in the balls by phantom footwear for the rest of my life!”

Nyramyn playfully swatting him, her laughter growing. “You can’t make me laugh so hard after they stitch me back together. It’ll hurt too much.”

“Very well, my love.” Revaramek arched his neck, putting a paw over his chest. “Henceforth from this moment, I shall be as dour and solemn as the Tea Kettle himself.”

“I still don’t know why you call him that.” Nyramyn tilted her head. “And given the way he always makes you laugh, I don’t think that will help.” She turned to stare outside through the rear entrance. “I don’t mind you waiting out there. So long as you’re with me when I drift off, and when I return to the world, I won’t know the difference anyway.” Nyra leaned her head against him, closing her eyes. “Just be ready to help me walk into the garden after I wake, in case I’m all wobbly.”

“Of course, love.” Revaramek rubbed her neck again. “But you won’t have to walk anywhere until you’re ready.”

Nyra giggled, a soft, musical sound. “I’ve just drank a bucketful of ale. In a few hours, I’m going to have to walk somewhere. I imagine Mirelle would prefer I find a secluded place to pee outside than in the corner of her tavern.”

Revaramek cackled and gave Mirelle a sidelong glance. “With all the sloppy drunks she caters too, I doubt you’d be the first. Oh!” He playfully thumped a cushion. “Remind me to tell you about the time Mirelle got way too drunk at Enora’s. Not only did she light her own food on fire, but she fountain-vomited red wine everywhere!”

Nyramyn gasped. “That happens when you drink wine?”

“Me?” Revaramek shook his head. “No. But Mirelle’s a lightweight. Why, she was stumbling around, mangling everyone’s names, telling us how spectacularly un-prudish she was, because she owns a tavern.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “Hell, if I know. She was just so drunk she-”

“Dare I ask what terrible story you’re telling over there?” Mirelle wagged her finger at him from behind the bar. “I do notice you glancing at me, you know.”

“Oh, nothing, Mirelle.” Revaramek waved her off. “I was just recalling that time you got puke-drunk on wine at Enora’s, and you lit that deer on fire! Come to think of it, you lit Enora’s bench on fire, too.”

Mirelle slapped the counter. “I did not.”

“You did so!” Revaramek grinned, his frills extended. “You used to puke a lot back then. Whenever I took you flying, whenever you drank too much-”

“That’s not the part I meant, and you know it.” Mirelle held up a grimy looking bar towel. “How’d you like it if I wring this out into your next beer without telling you?”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “Well, if you didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t care, would I?”

“That’s true.” Mirelle slapped it down out of site with an unnervingly wet smack. “I do remember that night, believe it or not. And yes, I retched.” She jabbed a finger in the air. “But you’re the one who put that leg of venison into the fire. And the one who used poor Enora’s wooden bench to try and get it out of the fire.” Mirelle shook her head. “You smacked it out of there like you were playing a damn sport!”

“Oooh!” Revaramek perked his ears. “Bats and Flaming Venison? That does sound like a fun game. We should start that, Mirelle!”

Mirelle smirked. “I’m sure there’s a bat around somewhere. And I know where I can find a couple of balls to practice on.”

Revaramek gulped, fighting the urge to tuck his tail. “Now, now, Mirelle. Kurekka and Chir’raal aren’t that obnoxious.”

“No, they’re not.” Mirelle glared at him. “Because when they tell stories about our history together, they don’t twist things to make themselves look better.”

Revaramek tilted his head. “They’re gryphons, Mirelle. Everything they do is meant make themselves look better.”  

“Fair point.” Mirelle ran a hand back through her hair. “But, their stories don’t make me look worse, at least.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Revaramek cackled. “You should hear what they say about you behind your back!”

Mirelle rolled her eyes. “Can’t be half as bad as the things they say about you. Anyway, as much as you enjoy making Nyra laugh at my expense?” Her smile returned. “Just remember that eventually, we’re going to learn each other’s language. And when we do, she and I are going to have a nice, long chat.”

“Wherein,” Revaramek said, waving a paw. “You will surely confirm the veracity of my many exciting tales.” When Mirelle only stared at him, he went on. “You see, Mirelle, veracity means-”

“I damn well know what veracity means!” Mirelle stomped, but her laughter belied her anger. “And truth be told, once I can talk directly with Nyra, I plan to discuss everything but you.”

Revaramek snorted. “Well, that sounds like a boring conversation.” Movement drew his attention as Binir returned with the other healers. “Alright, Mirelle. You’re going to have to stop chattering my ears off, now.”

Mirelle clucked her tongue. “What a terrible, terrible shame that is.” Then she offered a warm, genuine smile. “She’ll be alright, Revaramek. I promise.”

“I know.” Revaramek swallowed, bowing his head to her. “And thank you.”

The healers set down a duo of basins near Nyramyn. Each possessed its own odd-smelling contents. One was sharp and astringent, the other pungent and bitter. Nyramyn crinkled up her muzzle at the strange scents. She gave Revaramek a pleading look, only to sigh and turn away before he could even answer.

“When she’s ready,” Binir said. “We’d like her to start with that one.” She pointed to the furthest bowl. “Then the second. Neither will be pleasant, but it’s important she gets everything down. These are the closest measurements we could make for a creature her size.” Another healer passed her a silver censer. “When she’s consumed them both, we’ll light this. She needs to inhale its vapors as she falls asleep.” Binir set it down near Nyramyn’s head, then held a finger up towards Revaramek. “Once she’s unconscious, we’ll monitor her breathing and heart rate for a time before proceeding. If there are any irregularities, we’ll wake her up.” She gestured at the table where they’d prepared their medications. “We have smelling salts and antidotes readied, just in case.”

“Antidotes?” Revaramek’s frills flared out. “Just what are giving her?”

Binir held up her hands. “Respectfully, dragon, this is why we want you to wait outside. Your concern is entirely justifiable, but this will be far easier if we’re not constantly explaining what we’re doing.” She took a breath. “But, to ease your mind, I’ll explain this.” She indicated the bowls and censer. “Each of these will have an increasingly narcotic effect on her. They will numb her body and make her drowsy. As she falls into a deep slumber, her heart rate and respirations will slow. That’s expected. However…” Binir clasped her hands. “Occasionally, a patient’s vitals may dip too low. Thus, counteragents have been developed to swiftly reverse the effects.” Binir glanced at one of the other healers, a female va’chaak with green and gold scales. “In fact, our newest allies pioneered this sort of thing generations ago, with rare herbs found in their swamps. Now.” She sharpened her tone ever so slightly. “With your permission, I’d like to invite your mate to begin her medications.”

Revaramek let out a long sigh. “Alright, alright, you clearly know what you’re doing. I’ll shut up.” He canted his head. “I do appreciate the explanation, though. I’ll stay with Nyra until she’s fully asleep.” The dragon pointed a wingtip towards the back entrance. “Then I’ll wait out there. But when you’re finished, I’m coming back in.”

“Of course, dragon.” Binir gently patted his foreleg. “We’ll give you two a little space while she takes her medicine.” She moved away to confer with the others.

Nyra pulled the first bowl closer to herself. “I’m guessing from the way she pointed that I have to eat this one, first.”

“Correct, Nyra.” Revaramek licked her neck. “She also warned it won’t taste very pleasant.”

Nyramyn licked up a bit of the foul-smelling, greenish-brown paste. Her muzzle crinkled. “Ew! She wasn’t lying.” She forced herself to swallow it, then ate a little more, her whole face scrunching. “Yuck! It tastes like old vomit. I’d rather lick a stingtoad’s ass than eat this!”

Revaramek cackled at her unusually blunt choice of words. “Sadly for you, this world doesn’t have any stingtoads. I’m afraid you’re stuck with these horrible concoctions.”

Nyramyn soldiered on, forcing herself to consume the rest of it. When the taste made her gag, a va’chaak brought her a bowl of water to drink. After that, Nyramyn alternated between distasteful mouthfuls of medicine, and cleansing drinks of water. Finally, the bowl was empty. Nyramyn hissed at it as though insulted, then swatted it with a paw. The bowl clattered all the way across the tavern before bouncing off the far wall. None of the healers bothered to fetch it. Several of them looked increasingly nervous. Revaramek could not blame them. Compared to him, Nyra must have seemed practically feral.

“Now the second one, love.” Revaramek moved the next bowl closer. Its reddish contents smelled bitter, but lacked the stomach churning pungency of the first medication. “At least this one doesn’t smell as bad.”

Nyramyn sniffed it, and then ate a little. She wrinkled her nose “It’s quite bitter.” Nyra shrugged her wings. “And yet, compared to the first one, it’s practically swamp crab.”

The second bowl took Nyra far less time to consume. She needed only a few mouthfuls of water to work through it. When the bowl was empty, she batted it aside as well, albeit with far less ferocity. It skittered away, rolling up against the bottom of the bar. Nyramyn worked her jaws open and closed, licking her muzzle. She splayed her ears, scrunching up her snout.

“My mouth feels funny.” Nyra licked her lips again. “Half-numb, like I drank too much swamp water.”

“I’m sure that’s normal.” Revaramek nuzzled her neck, then cast a suspicious glance towards the healers. “Is it supposed to numb her tongue?”

Binir nodded, returning to the dragons. “That’s normal, yes. As her body absorbs everything, the numbness should spread through the rest of her. At the same time, she should grow drowsy.” Binir crouched down, and opened the silver censer, revealing an assortment of dried herbs and incense. She beckoned, and another healer carried over a tiny, smoldering coal in a pair of tongs. The healer placed the coal atop the herbs, and Binir closed the censer again. “Have your mate inhale the vapors from this, but only with her normal breathing. She doesn’t need to fill her lungs. Tell her to not to fight her coming drowsiness.”

“The numbness is normal,” Revaramek said, nuzzling Nyra. “And when you start to feel sleepy, they want you to give into it.” He flicked a claw tip towards the first plumes of rising smoke. “They also want you to breathe that stuff in.”

Nyra nodded. “Very well. Is it not going to be difficult for you and the healers to avoid breathing it, as well?”

“Good question.” Revaramek watched greenish smoke rise into the air. “Perhaps it has no effect without what you just consumed.” A sharp, pungent aroma permeated the air. The scent was herbal and floral, yet somehow also damp and muddy. “Smells like swamp flowers.”

Nyra lay her head down near the bowl, a half-smile on her muzzle. “Reminds me of home, from my hatchling days. Mother used to give me something like that when I was hurting. She didn’t burn it though, just made me eat it. Tasted horrible, but it eased the pain.” Her eyelids drooped. “Don’t think it grew in the part of the swamp you and I lived in. Maybe I ate the last of it, as a child.”

“Maybe, Nyra.” Revaramek stroked her neck, draping a wing across her. “Close your eyes, love. Let the medication do its work.” He gently licked her ear. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

“It had better be.” Nyra glanced up at him, her smile still present. “Or you shall never hear the end of it.”

Revaramek chuckled, caressing her scales. “I shall never hear the end of it, anyway.”

“You’ll be here when I wake?” A tinge of fear crept into Nyra’s voice, squeezing Revaramek’s heart. “You won’t leave?”

“I’ll be right here, Nyra, I swear it.” He licked her ear again, then pointed a wing tip towards the back door. “And while they operate, I’ll be watching, right there.”

“Alright.” Nyra’s eyes drifted shut, only to open again. “But you won’t leave me until I’m asleep, right?”

Revaramek shook his head. “I’ll remain at your side, until then.”

“Thank you.” Nyramyn shifted her weight. “What position do they need me in?” She nudged him with a drowsy chuckle. “No jokes.”   

“Good question.” Revaramek turned his head to address Binir. “How do you need her to lay?”

Binir circled a finger in the air. “Can she roll onto her side? And keep her wings out behind her.”

Revaramek withdrew his wing from Nyra’s back. “They want you to lay all the way on your side, with your wings out of the way.” He plucked up a spare cushion, and set it near her head. “You can rest your head on this.

Nyramyn did as asked, sprawling out upon her side. She stretched her wings out, letting them rest against the sheets covering the floor. Then she settled her head onto the soft cushion. Nyra brushed Revaramek’s forepaw with hers, murmuring a thank you. Her eyes drifted shut. Binir adjusted the smoking basin to keep the vapors near Nyramyn’s muzzle.

“How’s this, Binir?” Revaramek gestured at Nyra. “Better?”

The healer nodded. “That should be perfect, thank you.”

Nyramyn cracked her eyes open, peering up at Revaramek. “I love you, Rev.”

Revaramek gently pressed his muzzle to hers. “I love you too, Nyra. See you when you wake.”

Nyra did not reply. Her eyes were already shut once more. Nyramyn’s breathing gradually slowed and evened out. Her paws soon flexed and her wing membranes twitched in dream-throes. Revaramek whispered Nyra’s name several times. When she did not react, he spoke it louder, and more sharply. Nyra’s only response was a snore. Revaramek laughed, lifting his head.

“I think she’s asleep.” He stroked her foreleg. “Can I stay with her a few more minutes?”

“Certainly, Dragon.” Binir walked around Nyramyn, observing her. “The medication will drag her deeper and deeper into slumber for a little while, yet. In the meantime, we’ll monitor her breathing and heart rate. However, if you don’t mind, we’ll start sterilizing the area around her wound now.”

Revaramek nodded. “Do whatever you need to.”

Binir issued instructions, and her team quickly implemented them. They swarmed around Nyra, each working on their own task. It reminded Revaramek of an ant nest, organized chaos working towards a common goal. Some pressed listening devices to Nyra’s chest, throat, and stomach while others examined the pulsing blood flow in her wings. Numbers were called out, and jotted down. Powerful, acrid cleaning spirits and soft cloths were utilized to sanitize the area all around Nyra’s unhealed wound. Eventually, they were ready to begin.

“It’s time, Dragon. If you’d be so kind as to make your way outside.” Binir swept a hand towards the rear entrance.

Revaramek licked Nyra’s nose. “I’ll be right outside, love.” He nuzzled her. “See you soon.”

Binir offered Revaramek a comforting smile. “I promise we’ll take excellent care of her.”

“I know you will.” Revaramek pushed up to his paws, then shook himself. “And I shall endeavor not to pepper you with questions.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Binir said. “The less we have a nervous dragon shouting at us while we’re operating, the better.”

“Come on, Rev.” Mirelle joined him, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll wait outside with you, so you’re not out there alone.”

Revaramek bowed his head, his voice soft. “Thank you, Mirelle.”

Together, they walked outside in the morning sunlight. Revaramek settled onto his haunches atop the sturdy patio, facing the open doorway. Inside, several surgeons prepared their tools. Scalpels, needles and other frightening utensils were scrubbed with cleansing spirits. Another healer laid out an assortment of gauzes, bandages, and spools of sinewy threads. Binir drew lines and arrows around the wound with chalk, indicating where to cut.

“Rev…” Mirelle laid her hand upon his neck. “You don’t need to watch.”

“Yes, I do.” Revaramek hugged Mirelle with a foreleg. “I convinced her, Mirelle. I talked her into this.”

“And it’s going to help her.” Mirelle returned the hug, her arms as far around him as she could reach. “But it’s not going to do you any good to watch them cut your mate open. Let’s take a walk around my garden, Rev. You’ll still be with Nyra when she wakes, but you won’t have to remember the sight of all her blood.”

Revaramek cringed, flattening his ears. Already, the healers were studiously removing scales from around the wound. Behind them, Binir inspected a large, finely honed blade. Revaramek swallowed, anxious, yet forced himself to keep watching. “No matter how difficult it is for me to watch, my discomfort is nothing compared to the pain she’ll go through. And I promised her, Mirelle. I promised I’d be right here, watching over her. So, no matter how hard this is for me to see, or how it may haunt my memories, I will stay right here. I will watch over Nyra, until it is done.” His throat tightened, a sudden stab of pain piercing him deep in his chest. “I can never let her wake to find me gone again, Mirelle. Never.” Revaramek sniffled, ears drooping. The dragon’s voice trembled. “So, I’ll wait right here, where she can see me. Watching over her.”

“Alright, Rev.” Mirelle rested her forehead against him, stroking his scales. “Then I’ll wait right here, with you. I won’t let you face this alone.”

“Thank you, Mirelle.” Revaramek hugged her tighter, a few silent tears spilling down his muzzle. “Thank you.”