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[CloakAndDagger]

She could still hear it. The little ones, the eggs cracking beneath the shadow of her wing. The flecks of calcium, bars of a small, worn prison, being cast aside for the light of day. Over her, golden as the sun, her mate looked down with his godly eyes, joy and splendor spilling from them. Each hatching hatching had been different. Different eggs, different children. And yet, as they rose to take their places among their kin, the images seemed to blur together in a wave of soulful belonging. She had had three beautiful little air children, one shining celestial, and each one had been both a trial and a joy in their own right. The one of aurum, especially, had been an agony to bear forth and then... an agony to see waste away. She could have done nothing to prevent it, she knew, but that didn’t stop the ache. She had so few left and, now, one more fewer. And she cried for it deep in the dead of the night.

The girl woke to an empty room. Her mind spun, still dragged along by the dark fingers of sleep, but she rose to it just the same. She’d seen, felt things along the bridge of the bond that connected them. She’d felt the warmth of young life in her hands, the first breaths of the newborn. And then she’d been lost in the darkness again. There had been no sun anymore, no golden light.

In the still of night, the girl slid from her bed like a child seeking her parents out of a bad dream. She groped around in the sliver of moonlight left and found her clothes as she’d put them, though, they seemed different than what she remembered, as if they were just the same, hems and all, but only a shade darker. It made her pause, hand hesitating as it reached out to claim them, but, claim them she did, and then she wore them. They were only clothes. The color didn’t matter. Thought it was summer, the last thing she pulled on was her black half cloak. The dark sheet swept over her shoulders like raven wings and settled as light as breath, as if made only for her. Clasping it in front, she felt along the worn edges of the cloth with tired hands. Her mind flicked back and forth between memories as her fingers mussed about the threads. It was the first thing she remembered, this cloak. She could see it streaming infront of her, born by the wind to be a dark flag to mark her. She remembered it first, though, it was longer then. She remembered the cold of the snow afterwards, and then the roar of the dragons. ...No, Sen had been there, somewhere in there. And hadn’t she gotten her boots before? They’d been too big, oversized, but, well enough for protection and better than what she’d had before, but, what had that been? Yes, she’d traded them for the boots. Where were those boots now, though?

The girl, small enough to be taken for a child, frown beneath the shadow of the night. It didn’t matter. And then she slipped out to find her missing piece. As the door closed behind, she remembered she’d forgotten the ring that marked her as shadowguard. She left it.


The dragoness swept herself around the sands like a memory. Her claws pricked and set and printed the ground with one more set of talons-- out of hundreds, maybe thousands that had been there before. Her marks, too, should have been well pressed into the area here. Three times she’d guarded her young with her peers and kin. She’d laid them, allowed filthy hands upon them, and then let them go to fate, but fate had been unkind. Even of her living sons, she’d not spoke to them in years. And her daughter... her little air daughter... She had shamed herself... shamed her. With fierce ire in her green eyes, the air lifted her head up to where she’d once taken nest above all other creatures aside from the golden pedestal. There, her chosen seat to nest, Kestral had defiled the sacred place with her profane young. Not only had the little fool chosen a tainted as a mate, but, she’d had the gaul, the audacity to take her mother’s seat and lay the little bastard. Hot breath slipped between her fangs like knives and the air around her sturred, kicking up sand. No more. A daughter of hers No More. She’d disowned that loose female and lamented ever letting her from womb.

Stalking like a tiger, the air swept herself around the sands and shook her head, trying to clear it, but all the regret and sadness just clung to her as weeping rain. It sank in and chilled her, and she would never be free of it. Now she would have no more children. No more young ones between her paws, asking to be made into something bright and shining. No more golden young. Fertile, she was, but Ionos might as well have been barren. Her mate was gone, lost to the tides of death and war, and, with him, all her hopes for future eggs. He was her one and only. She was loyal, would always be loyal. Loyal to the deep of heart. And, so, she would never take another. She mated for life... and, at only 10 years, she had so much more to go in this loneliness. And oh how she just wanted to cry.

Crying, though, was for the defeated. It was not in her to lose, not when she even had just one thing left. And, so, alone, she opened her wings and called herself up to the pedestal nest that rose above the world. She’d been here, once. It would never be hers again, but, for now, in the quiet of the night, she could imagine what could have been. Breathless, she closed her eyes and banished regret with a grit of her teeth. The crystal on her forehead shone brightly like a third eye, though, it had never saved her from the future.

Ionos cast her eyes out to rule all that she saw. It was good enough, for now. Now the war was one, the new generation hatched and alive, though, she could take no part in it. Now she had a new job and title and she’d risen the ranks to take a seat she so deserved. She’d worked for her place in the hall of guards, and she would work to keep it. And, still, thought she’d lost everything else, she still had one true thing to her. A sister, a daughter, an only friend, her rider was still well, alive, and able. She breathed out, grateful. A sickness, yes, the girl would have it forever, but it was simply treated and had long been unseen. The girl was quiet and strange, but, Ionos loved her as she loved nothing else. And she would do anything to preserve it, to stave off the cold with the warmth of her bond. She would tear apart the fabric of time before any harm came to the girl.

As the regal creature, standing upon the tall perch like a throne, looked out through the glass and into the vastness of space, the girl was there, standing like a shadow in her dark cloak. And she smiled a sad smile. She could only imagine what Io was going through now, but, she’d felt so much of it these past few months. The bond between them was close, close enough for the strongest of things to slip through. And it had hurt.

The girl pulled the cloak’s hood down. Her brown hair spilled out over the black cloth in dull rivers while she looked up to her lofty partner. They both just wanted one thing from the world: family. And, even if they’d lost it around them, they still had it in eachother. Moving to speak, the girl stepped forward, but, the dragoness saw her first and took the first words.

“Kessian! You should be in bed. This is no hour for you to be wandering around.” She looked down, but, did not immediately descend. The girl, though, nodded. “I think we both needed a breath.” Her voice was small, but clear. I’m sorry, Io.
The lovely creature seemed to nod, but then she turned her head back upwards. “I wonder what they would do if I flew this next season just to lead them on. Pathetic creatures.” She chuckled. “Ah yes, what I would change when I am queen.” Joking was something very rare in such an aloof creature as this one, but, in the dark of night with a half asleep rider as her only company, she was more free to voice them as they came to her. The smile that came next, a saucy grin, was even more rare.
“Then, all the world would be your children.” The girl mused and smiled gently in return while the dragoness cast herself down from her height to slip around the smaller form like a feathered serpent. And, together, they rested and looked upwards at the drifting night.
“And what did you dream tonight, my bonded?”
“Grass and trees.” She lied. “What did you dream?”
“The same thing I dream every night, plucking that dustmop, Iridae. I’d almost enough to make you a dress this time.” They laughed and then they began to point out constellations to one another, battling the arrangement against the next in fantastic play.

“But you can’t kill the great bear with a single archer!” Kess protested. “He’s too big!”

[Megs]

Sylt knew Nirae was regarding her with those charming, gentle brown eyes, and knew what her rider was thinking about. The woman's thoughts were a bit hazy, like trying to peer through a curtain of fog, as she delved a little deeper into the richness of sleep. The earth remained still, breathing evenly. Her head was propped up on the side of her hollowed nest, encrusted with its glittering minerals and smoothed rocks. She remembered the day she had started this nest, collecting what she wanted and stamping them into what was now an oval-like hollow in the floor, so smooth that Nirae could slide down with hardly a bump to mar her way. It had grown with her. And now, eighteen years later, it was perfection. At the moment, it wasn't comfortable. She didn't feel like laying down, or falling asleep. Her rider's drifting thoughts were mirrored by her own, and they were bothering her a bit more than usual.

The dragon was deciding on whether or not to wait until her rider fell asleep to get up and take a walk when the woman slid out of her bed. Sylt slid her head around, taking in Nirae's appearance. She had lost some weight, and even though the both of them had made considerable progress since their brush with Iruk, the rider was still haunted. So was Sylt. At least once every few nights she remembered Iruk's threat, his promise. With a gentle sigh, Nirae sat on the end of Sylt's nose, then laid herself out.

"So. How about a wandering?"

Neither of them had to say it. They weren't going to be able to sleep this night until they confronted some thoughts. Oddly enough, it wasn't about their latest brush with death. It was about life. Giving life, to be honest. Once Nirae had shrugged out of her night clothes and into casual, the two exited their quarters and wordlessly made for their destination. It wasn't until they were at the entrance to the hatching grounds that Nirae looked up to her dragon, her eyes reflecting the sadness that saturated her heart.

"Is it my fault?"

It was a loaded question. So loaded that Sylt nearly stumbled over her own feet in the process of stopping and swinging her head down to her rider.

"By the crystal, Nirae!" Her golden horns, shadowing a blue turned frosty in the moonlight, glinted as she nosed the much smaller life form with a long-practiced delicacy. "Now, how could it even possibly be your fault? It's not impossible for a dragon to go without mating due to events in her life."

Nirae rubbed at the back of her head, but despite Sylt's reassurance, there was still that nagging doubt using a hot poker to torment the back of her mind with a persistent prodding. During the war, they had worked so hard, gone out of their way to pick up any slacks. Anything that had been asked of them, they had done. But had she pushed her own dragon too far? These thoughts could not be kept from the earth, who nosed her again, a warming sound rumbling in her thick neck.

"We both did what we needed to do. Besides..." she began to move, and Nirae found herself following Sylt without even thinking about it. "I'm far from infertile." She winked at her rider, something she had never done before, but had picked up from Odion. It was enough to startle the woman into a smile. Sylt raised her head, surprised yet not to see another dragon and rider already there. Ionos and Kessian? Sylt and Nirae glanced at each other at the same time. Were they intruding? Well, it was too late to back out now. Sylt wasn't hard to miss. They turned and bowed respectfully as one, and Sylt, warmth in her voice, spoke first.

"Ionos, Kessian, what a delight it is to meet you here. How fare you?"

This wasn't the first time Nirae felt a bit...odd. They hadn't personally approached the younger pair before, but they were of the Shadowguarde. She offered a smile, though, as she hovered at Sylt's still-lowered head.

[CloakAndDagger]

Encircled completely by her bonded, the girl was lost amidst the storm grey and purples of her partner’s delicate plumage. In the dark of the night, with only torches and stars to look on, the shape of her shadowy cloak melted into the umbra. And yet, her voice was still there, soft and kind and merry. She pointed up toward the glass dome, signaling out a section of stars that formed the archer in question, and then she gestured toward a larger cluster far to the other side of the sky. “That is a mighty bear, Io. I’ve heard more tales of it than that little archer.” Competing, playing, they pitted one constellation against another until only one would remain to be ruler of the sky and stars. “Ah, but, he’s skilled and, look how far away the bear is. He’d get in more shots than the bear has teeth and claws.” The dragoness, curved mouth delighting in her smug choice of combatant, always pressed to win. The girl, though, didn’t care as much to win or lose. This was the most time she’d spent so close, so warmly and playfully with Io for a while. “Not if it’s a fat bear.” Settled in her cloak, Kessian smiled, glad for the interaction no matter the hour of night.

However, the two were not so much alone as they’d thought. Along with the open sky, another wayward pair was up from their beds. Voices quietly rose amidst the sand. Feet padded along the stonework and wood of the floor, but the sounds were thinned by the shortening distance and made any interpretation unreliable. As the air pair talked, the dragoness perked and turned an ear. One voice rose, perhaps in question, but there seemed a tension lingering in the vibrations of the words and, as the other pair slipped closer, the subtleties became more evident. Kessian, taking longer to hear the approach, pressed her hands against the sand and turned to look over the long shape of her partner. Only her eyes and hairline were visible. Io, though, feigned ignorance to the interruption for a moment until Sylt and Nirae reacted to the present air bondeds. Then, Ionos turned her head on her long neck and gazed back with acknowledgement at the two. She did not smile, but mused on the gesture of the bow as it was performed. She enjoyed the respect that came with her new office. She nearly basked in it. But let none say she didn’t use her authority ...mostly well. Kessian, though, a little uncomfortable by the bow, stood quickly and struck the sand from her cloak before nodding a bit in response.

The stormy air dragoness mulled over the earthen pair and briefly recognized them. Earths seemed to find it easy enough to make themselves known, if chiefly by size and nothing else, but, she seemed to recall them more familiar. Perhaps they’d spoken elsewhere at some point. If nothing else, they’d been around enough for her to see, she was sure. Kessian, though, gave not a clue as to if she’d formally met Nirae and Sylt, but, she kept a kind, friendly face while she slowly quieted.

"Ionos, Kessian, what a delight it is to meet you here. How fare you?" Nirae appeared to smile cordially, but, something about it seemed disquieted or uncomfortable, and the earth rider kept to her bonded. Though, from the words as well, the two were quite aware of the stature of the younger pair. Surely, Io thought, they couldn’t be that much older than she. She knew, elsewhere, there were elder dragons who thought her too young for her title, but, she’d proven her worth on her own. Paranoid for a moment, she kept the thought to herself, half wanting to make assumptions she shouldn’t. Naturally, her eye turned to silent judgement, but, she had too little to go on to make any concrete placements. She didn’t, as of yet, know what to make of the pair. Kessian, though, seemed to pause and gently speak up to answer. Io’s voice, larger, easily overshadowed her whisper. “We are well.” She nodded, uncurling slightly from her reclining position to face the other two, but, never once did she completely leave her rider bare. Attempting to be welcoming, she held herself with elegance and dignity, but, made no additional efforts, unlike her rider who seemed more than amicable despite her lack of voice. “Enjoying an open night. The rains have finally left the night alone.” Above them, the stars twinkled, but, any talk or play of constellations was gone with anyone near enough to hear. It seemed funny, though, the air pair was dwarfed by the size of the earth. Both, though, were dwarfed by the dome and the sky. “A good night for reflection.”

“Though I may ask, what of you two? Your night? What brings you to bear the grit of the sands upon your feet?” Green eyes searched the other pair as she reconized little morsels of tension between the two. Curiousity leapt up in her head, but, she would not pry. Ionos could be aloof and combative sometimes, but, she knew very well when not to bring something up, so, she held her tongue in a queenly fashion and did give a good attempt to being amiable. In the back of her mind, though, she grew unhappy for the interruption. There were strains, sometimes, between her and Kessian, though the girl would walk along side her as if nothing was wrong. That moment, playing, had been silly and otherwise inconsequential, but, it had meant a lot to her somehow. They’d both been smiling.