Dragon(s)layer

13


Homefront


Everyone thought it had been a thunderstorm they had heard yesterday. It had sounded like the boom of a god's war drum, and it had rung over the land with might and anger. Clouds had formed later in the evening and it had rained, overflooding the peat puddles and weighing down the willows.

The only one who questioned the source of the booms outright was Firefly, and it seemed, strangely enough, that no one wanted to humor him, not even Lightnux, the one dragonfly in the world that Cometcu had always viewed as the strongest.

Ever since Spyra hadn't come home, her husband had been rendered near-mute. He fluttered around the bramble listlessly, his wings nothing but a disillusioned whisper to mark his passage.

"I was unable to help her." Lightnux had said last night, his eyes distant. "She had gone into the Mayfly shrine and was taking frustrations out on cloth and hay, and like a nitwitted fool I stood idle and watched."

"You cannot blame yourself." Cometcu soothed. "Spyra did not leave because of you, or me, or Firefly. She will come back."

"Did the land whisper that to you?"

"In so few words." Cometcu sighed. Her meditations had shown her much. The catastrophic bursts of fire in the heartlands of the swamp, the panicked excitement of the trees, and the mumblings of the rocks…

Cometcu had remained landed in the little hideaway behind their thicket home for hours, convening with the plants through her very mind. Her antenna were blanketed in a pink glow, and her eyes had remained shut as alien tongues bubbled up from the back of her mandibles.

Plant speaking was a complicated art. Their language was not in voice, per-say, but it was in emotions and sensations. Pain, unfamiliarity, comfort, warmth, frostbite. Cometcu couldn't read the storm that was brewing through the swamps fast enough.

This was comparable to a person suffering from racing thoughts or mania. The swamp was babbling, because there was too much to tell. Cometcu could swear she had the beginnings of vertigo.

It meant that something either serenely beautiful, or utterly terrible had occurred. This of course had done nothing to soothe her burning worries or those of her husband's. It did not allow them to function during the day. Thus, time had frozen over their thicket home.

Though what Cometcu left out of her talks with Lightnux, was the sensation she had experienced when she had probed for the north of the swamps…

The dark ulcer.

The cancerous tumor spreading through and torturing the brush.

It was shrinking.

Later that day, Firefly had tried to go off into the wilderness after his adoptive sister. Lightnux had had to physically drag him back home.

Afterward, the distraught dragonfly had taken to sealing himself in his little room, refusing to come out to eat or speak with them. To Firefly, it was borderline murder.

How could they do this to Spyra when they claimed to love her?

But to Lightnux, the logic was simple: the village's Chieftain had already lost one child, and he wasn't about to lose another, even if he earned his malice for it.

"Remember when the two of you said Spyra was just as much your kid as I was?" Firefly had snapped when Cometcu had tried to console him. "Well, then why aren't we tearing this swamp apart looking for her?"

Cometcu had reached a point where she was just about ready to do that.

The unbearable sensation of a mother secreted from her own child. Not knowing where they were, what or who was with them…

Cometcu looked like a zombie-fly after what was comparatively a few days. Her color had diminished, her wings and face had aged and she was constantly dragging bags under her eyes. Lightnux was pretty much in the same boat. At least for him it had taken just a tad longer.

But, when all hope seemed lost, the following day, after the clouds thinned and the air was warmed with the sun, she felt it.

She felt Spyra through the earth.

Cometcu gasped as reality rekindled in her head, her mandibles were open, as if she was making to speak. Seated on a little stone, ringed with field flowers, the dragonfly's pink glow subsided, her antenna laxed, and the flowers all lowered from their magically raised protrusions.

Cometcu was a blur as her wings buzzed, and she zipped through the back arch, the kitchen, the larder, and came out the front of the thicket, hovering.

She almost plowed face-first into a golden plated dragoness breast.

"…S-Spyra?" The dragonfly matron drunkenly stuttered.

"Heya', mom." Spyra grinned, her tail swaying. "How's everything been going?"

Instantly, Cometcu cried and darted forwards, latching onto Spyra's chest and hugging for dear life, a tumbling ramble flying out from her mandibles.

She babbled all kinds of stuff. How worried she was, how her father was lost, how her brother wasn't eating, how the entire village was terrified for her safety, how there was a fresh salamander steak she'd prepared that had gone untouched…

How, how how. How everything and everyone. Cometcu was inconsolable, and Spyra was okay with that.

She sat on the ground and giggled, linking her paws over the little insect to smush her into her chest as tightly as she could manage (without risk of actual smushing of course, she was still a bug).

"…Where were you? What happened?" Cometcu finally breathed when her ranting ceased, looking at her adoptive daughter with pleading eyes. "Was it because of what I said? In the kitchen? When you came home with your brother? Spyra, I would never want to change who you are. I love you too much."

"I didn't leave because of some stupid disagreement." Spyra nuzzled her. "I had to come back for you, and dad, and my little bro'. I had to make sure you all were okay, forget me."

"Us?" Cometcu squawked. "…This must have to do with the energies I have been feeling throughout the swamp. The plants have been babbling nonstop for days! M-Much like myself, just a few seconds ago…"

"I suppose they've seen a lot recently." Spyra craned an eye at some of the willows growing throughout the village. "…And frankly, so have I. Oh, mommy I have so much to tell you about. I've seen all these new places, and met so many people and-"

"Places? People?-" Cometcu sniffed, and retracted her head. "…and why do you smell so badly?"

Cometcu fluttered her wings and paused.

"Oh I don't care. I'm just so happy you're okay." The dragonfly hummed and buried her little face in Spyra's plates. "I'm so happy you've come home. I need to get Lightnux, and Firefly-! They'll be so happy to see you! Everyone will be so happy to see you…"

Other dragonflies were starting to materialize from the woodwork, of all colors and shades. Many of them were whispering, some of them cried out as they gathered around the front of Spyra's thicket home.

"She's back!"

"Look! Spyra's back!"

"She's okay!"

Spyra hugged her mom and looked around, picking out faces she recognized. The entire village was buzzing over, creating a rainbow of bobbing wisp lights. People started cheering, some started clapping.

"…Wow…" The dragon grinned. "I didn't think everyone would care so much."

Cometcu started to cry again of course. All Spyra could do was roll her eyes in happy embarrassment and mutter- 'Mooommmm…' –while patting her wings.

"You went out into the swamps?"

Spyra looked down and saw one of the younger dragonflies, ironically, Wingwhip himself, one of Firefly's little turd friends. The red dragonfly was gazing at her with platter eyes, his hands luckily empty this time, no tail-pinning.

"Yeah, I went into the swamps." Spyra flashed him a dangerous smile. "And I went into the Forbidden Funguswood."

"…Totally?" Wingwhip gasped.

"Totally, dude, like whole way perpendicular madness on the highest dial." Spyra angled a thumb and pinky.

"Duuudddeee…." Wingwhip droned.

"Oh, and check it:" Spyra opened her mouth, awing the crowd as bolts of electricity danced between her fangs like reams of ice. "-ya' ever want to play pin the tail on the dragon again, buddy, that's a'ight. I'm game. But as long as we get to play Bugzapper!"

Wingwhip screamed like a little girl and zipped away. Spyra cackled and clipped the electricity. That at least sorted out one little problem...

But where was-

"Spyra!"

Everybody looked at the arch frame to the family thicket. A golden dragonfly- one Spyra knew very well –was sluggishly coming through, eyes locked on the purple dragon.

"Sup', bro." Spyra flashed a grin.

Firefly didn't look amused.

"You stupid asshat!" He screamed, and the whole crowd went silent after a hushed gasp.

"Ouch." Spyra winced. "Don't tell me I forgot something before I left… did we have chores? Mom and dad dumped 'em all on ya' at once or something? Or, are you so blinded by my radiant beauty that you've gone delusional?"

Firefly buzzed up into Spyra's snout, a very angry expression written on his stone-cold face.

"…Aw, Firefly… I'm sorry…" Spyra dropped the act with a sigh. "…I didn't-"

"I thought you were dead and you aren't!" Firefly sobbed.

There was a slapping noise as the young fly adhered to Spyra's neck and hugged tightly.

"My giant, hideous, purple sister…" Firefly sniffled.

"…Yeahyeah… I love you too, anus-face…" Spyra giggled. "Evening's cold out, folks, I already got two flies on me, anyone else wanna' a spot on the dragon-hug pole?"

"Me!" It was Sapwing. The old coot was buzzing over and his tired wings, arms open. "My best customer! You're alive!" He wheezed.

"Yes alive." Spyra grinned cheaply, holding out a wing to buffer the soapmaker. "And totally unwilling to get hugged by an old guy."

"…Ah," Sapwing reclined with a chuckle. "-just as usual. At least my night feels somewhat normal again."

"Would you be willing to hug this old guy?" –Came a voice.

The crowd suddenly began to part, and the cheers became hushed whispers. Spyra turned with her mother and brother still clutched in her arms to see a blue orb of light slowly parting the walls of color.

Lightnux's wings buzzed in the quiet breeze, his face unreadable as he crossed the distance to his daughter, and hovered just ahead of her nose.

"H-Hey, dad." Spyra sheepishly said. "…Long time no moody dragon, eh?"

Lightnux didn't answer her, he simply touched his forehead to hers, holding her cheeks, where he soothed her with a happy, deep sigh. The Chieftain regained color before her very eyes, having approached her as a pale ghost.

"My daughter." He kept saying, rubbing her scales. "Home."

"I love you guys." Spyra closed her eyes. Everything in the world felt right in that moment. Complete perfection.

But strangely, the crowd was still murmuring, and was still parted.

Lightnux, Firefly and Cometcu peered up from the dragoness and gazed to where Spyra had come from, to the front of the village itself.

Two boot heels crunched through dirt, one falling faster than the other, as a six-foot tall, upright creature unsteadily limped into their presence.

The Fallen wiped some blood from his lower lip, and stood just before the dragonflies, his eyes wandering over the beautiful assortment of colors dancing off their fluorescent wings.

He opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. Spyra laughed. It was like when he had first crashed here all over again.

"…Guys, this is my… uhm… friend." Spyra finally decided after rolling the sentence on her tongue for awhile. She didn't sound certain, and none of the insects around her looked certain either. They all had wide eyes, gaping mandibles and jittering wings. The fact that nobody else was even offering a gasp, muttered concerns or anything just made it heavier. "…W-We kind of… saved each other's lives a few times, over the last week or so."

"…Nice to meet all of you." The Fallen offered quietly.

That caused the whole crowd to gasp.

"It speaks!" –Someone cried.

"Oh come on, I don't look that stupid do I?" The Fallen rubbed his aching temples, grumbling. "…Listen, I've had a really long and trying night getting your dragon back to you and saving your swamp, so, excuse me if I seem a little disheveled." He gestured to the mess about himself.

Disheveled was certainly one word. Here stood a giant, skin-covered simian, wearing strange one-piece clothes, with crude Ape weapons hanging off of him, speckled with dried blood, crusted sewage, and strewn with cuts and bruises. None of the dragonflies knew what to say.

"…He's… tall." Firefly whispered. The Fallen daggered a brow and opened his mouth.

" -AHT!" Spyra startled everyone by jamming a talon in the air. "Don't you say it!"

The Fallen's snickers were scythed when pain flared in his ribs. He grunted and nursed himself.

"Village, Fallen, Fallen, village." Spyra gestured. "Welcome to my abode."

"It's lovely." The Fallen smiled. "And really quiet too."

"I know." Spyra was awestruck, her mouth gaping. "I think the same thing every day! Mom, dad, me and this dude? Like, so alike, totally."

"I'll be the judge of that." Firefly detached himself and zipped up in the Fallen's face, the human reclining with a surprised blink. "What's your business with my sis', stranger?"

"…Welllll…" The Fallen awkwardly droned.

"Leave him alone, Firefly, he's cool." Spyra nuzzled Lightnux as she spoke. "He saved my life."

"…The north…" Cometcu dumbly pointed at both of them. "That explosion yesterday?"

"It's complicated." The human rubbed his neck.

"…So, uhm… yeah, me and my best friend here have gotten pretty… ahem CLOSE over the last few days, and I, well… I kinda' preemptively invited him to dinner." Spyra suggested, rubbing her paws on her parents to regain their locked attentions. "I figured you'd wanna' meet my boyf-uhm~! –my friend, my friend who saved me from the Forbidden Funguswood."

"Your friend." Lightnux parroted dumbly. "…What is he?"

"Human. My name-" The warrior paused, wincing when he took a step forward and offered his hand, and the crowd backed away like a receding wave of living Christmas lights. "-you can call me the Fallen."

"Fallen." Lightnux tentatively reached out and wrapped his fingers around the human's palm, holding them there for a second before retracting. "It was you who whisked my daughter out into the wilderness?"

"Not exactly." The Fallen smiled. "She found me, I found her, we found we worked well together, so I stuck around. That, and I greatly enjoy her company." He winked. Spyra snorted laughter so harshly she felt compelled to slap a paw over her mouth.

Firefly's mandibles were ajar.

Since when was Spyra… bubbly?

"I see." Lightnux glanced between them. "…Then, I must ask you to stay and fully explain what has happened. My village extends its hospitality to you in full."

"Thank you." The Fallen bowed as low as he could, hissing when his ribs flared. "-Does the same go for the rest of our group?"

"Group?" Lightnux snapped. "What group?"

There was a hideous, shrill wailing in the night. The cry of a beast that echoed through the whole village. Many in the crowd screamed and daggered about in panic.

"Nownow yu stop that, Meep, plug it up! Ya ain't got to do them sewer-moanins no more, everyone ere's friendly…"

"Why didn't we drown him?" Spyra glumly uttered.

"Ooo! Lookatdat! There's glowin bugs everywhere! They're so purteh." Palmet lumbered up to the edge of the crowd, smiling with his hideous fangs.

"Meep." Meep chirped, a black, wriggling hand on the Ape's shoulder.

"…So this is where all my future slaves were supposed to come from?" Cynder chuffed, flexing her arms against the bonds across her wrists as she was dragged unceremoniously across the ground on a pallet they'd taken from Forlorn's wreckage. Harad and Corrinthol grunted as they tugged her along via rope-link. Cynder snorted and turned her nose up to the village. "It's a mud pile, not worthy of my station."

"That's my mud pile you're talking about." Spyra reminded. "See, mom, dad? I took my first prisoner of war! Aren'tchya proud?"

"War?" –Lightnux and Cometcu parroted at once.

"Yes, congratulations." Cynder rolled her eyes and sulked on the pallet. "Flaunt me like the trophy I've become, I suppose you deserve the boasting rights."

"Cheeky that, this is cozy." Morinth smiled, trotting along at the head of the liberated Mole band with Taliopia and Torrdonal. "It's a nice and fine little place, don't you think, Tali'?"

"It looks a little unsanitary." Taliopia bit her chop at the sight of the thicket homes. However, her initial attitude changed the moment she laid eyes on the dragonflies.

All at once, Taliopia went still, her gaze fixated on a red dragonfly at the edges of the crowd. Spyra knew that particular fellow as Ridgflite, one of her neighbors.

"Oh my god…" Taliopia gasped, her paws flying up to her snout.

"I didn't know there was more than one dragon." Ridgflite stupidly gawked.

He should've fled for his little life.

Suddenly, a very girlish squeal ripped through the night. Ridgflite's panicked cries were muffled as Taliopia bounded forwards, and swept the little insect into her chest to snuggle him tightly.

"THEY'RESOADORABLE-!" The medic squeed, oblivious to Ridgflite's calls for help. "IWANTONE-!"

"Darling, it isn't polite to snuggle the native population against their wiillllssss~." Morinth sang.

"Morri-poo! I want one." Taliopia looked manic, like she'd been slipped a substance or something. Morinth blinked at the glassy look in her lover's rose eyes. "Can I keep him?"

Morinth opened her mouth, but Taliopia whipped her head over to Spyra instead.

"Can I keep him?"

Ridgflite's scream was muffled by dragon scales.

"Greetings, Chieftain Lightnux of the dragonfly tribe." Harad stepped closer, intimidating the whole crowd with his brawn. It was quite the sight to watch the mighty earth dragon bow his head low to the little blue fly hovering between the Fallen and Spyra. "I am Captain Harad, Wing organizer of the Dragon Realms, and the City of Warfang. Your graciousness for housing us is most appreciated."

"Don't be deceived, he's a capital D dick." Spyra whispered to her family. "Yeah, this is Harasal everybody, he helped us too…"

"It's pronoun-" The Captain clenched his jaw. "…nevermind."

"Chieftain?"

Spyra noticeably deflated as Ignitia stepped beside the Captain, giving her own bow.

"My name is Ignitia, I am the Guardian of Fire, and Wingleader to the Captain."

The Guardian's eyes danced all over the little insects. The Fallen scrutinized silently and noticed her examining them, most likely wondering about the surrogate family that had taken in the egg she had viewed as her own.

Of course, he was going out on a limb about that.

But judging by the way she acted all the time around Spyra, he couldn't have been far off the mark. They'd need to have a chat later, including most importantly an express apology that he had recited for her.

"-Corrinthol!" Torrdonal was hissing to shut Corrinthol up nearby, though the Fallen picked out a few statements that sounded suspiciously like- 'This place is a dump!' –and- 'I'm not sleeping in a mud-pit like this.'

"Wha-?" Corrinthol noticed the Chieftain and his CO's and scrambled over, bowing like an idiot on his forepaws. " Corrinthol, Wingsoldier of Warfang, at your service. Might I say that your openness is awe-inspiring, Chieftain."

Spyra gagged and the Fallen's nose was scrunched, like he'd been slammed with a particularly foul smell.

"Torrdonal, Wingsoldier." Torrdonal kneeled slightly. "…You people don't have any large bodies of water around here, do you?"

Firefly brightened.

"-No, shush-!" Spyra tried.

"Yeah, we got the nymph pond in the back." Firefly jammed a thumb.

Torrdonal shuddered as a look of horror bloomed on his face.

"-W-Water-!" He cried, his eyes crossing. "-Wet and dark and terrible-! Noooooo…"

"…I'm getting more and more embarrassed by the second." Everyone looked over when Cynder's sultry voice came about. The black dragoness- even being a prisoner –looked like she was lounging on the pallet underneath her, her white eyes glimmering with perception. "I've withstood frontline engagements with these dragons, and those filthy little Moles back there, leading my Mistress' Dark Army at the forefront. A whole career of spotless perfection and terror. All of that, and now as this scroll is being unwound further and further, I'm truly seeing that I was just beaten today by a motley horde of imbeciles."

Cynder paused, a sweet little sigh coming out of her beak.

"Isn't life so delicious and interesting?"

"…A-And who is she?" Lightnux was experiencing a bit of shellshock, and he sounded disoriented. Not one foreigner (barring his daughter) in six-hundred years, and now? A crowd!

His little brain must have packed a suitcase and bummed out halfway.

"This is a very dangerous war criminal to our people and the world." Ignitia distastefully glared. "Her name is Cynder."

"Charmed." Cynder gave a smile and a little wiggle of her neck. Her eyes trailed to Ignitia next and wandered down her shapely backside. "…My my, Ignitia, how long has it been, really? You've let yourself go."

The Fallen made a sneezing sound, his eyes twitching as he forced himself to stop staring at the Guardian's magnificent ass.

"Thankfully she is entrapped in a spell's ward of my casting." Ignitia ignored her, appearing pleasant for Lightnux. "She will prove no danger to anyone here, and I will ensure that the seal remains pure throughout our brief stay here."

"Yes, she's quite the magic crafter…" Cynder rolled her tied-up wings over and exposed the small of her elegant back. Many gasped to see a glowing, orange rune pulsating from her jet black scales. It was in the shape of a dragon's head, ringed by little flames that moved silently as they observed, like caterpillars. "…It clashes with the rest of my collection, however…"

Cynder preened her neck, showing off the beautiful, glowing blue runes pulsating down her face and shoulders.

"I can't expect everyone to be a formal stylist. But did you have to make it so revealing?"

"Silence, prisoner!" Spyra snapped, hitting Cynder in the face with a tossed stick. The Terror of the Skies produced a reptilian howl that made everyone jump, her body art now glowing a faint red as she glared at the purple beastess hatefully. "Hey! That was fun! I like having prisoners, I should do it more often."

"I cannot disagree." The Fallen chuckled. "…Is there anywhere secluded around here? We need to keep her outside the thickets, just in case."

"Yes, just in case." Cynder wiggled forwards on the palette, bearing her red breast for the human with a gleeful grin. "The human has proven unbelievable in combat, I believe he should be my sentry for the night."

"Guarding you will be taken in shifts." Ignitia blocked Cynder's appetizing gaze to the Fallen, making the latter growl in disappointment. "Your time of terrorizing the realms will finally come to an end, Cynder, you will face justice for all you have done, including the destruction of a prized draconic artifact. The Forlorn Watch is gone, along with so much of its history."

"Do not weep, Ignitia, you pilfered so much from my nook at the tip-top. I'm sure you recovered enough of your precious library to keep younglings bored and drooling in your elaborately meaningless schools for generations…" Cynder scooted over and locked eyes with the Fallen, licking her chops. "…And it was the human's dynamite that saw the tower to ruination, don't forget that…"

"He acted out of necessity." Ignitia said. "That is what happens when leaders engage in homicidal behavior and force their neighbors to retaliate. The blood and stone on your claws has finally caught up to you."

"There's an empty thicket, over there, by the edge of the subsidiary pool in that grove." One of the dragonflies pointed between some trees. "It's secluded, you could keep her there."

"So quick are they to trust you." Cynder looked at Spyra. "No wonder you inherited such blind faith, Lonesome One."

"Not lonesome anymore, bitch." Spyra detached from her mother and sidled up to the Fallen, hip-bumping him. "I've got all the warm, beefy companionship I need." Spyra gestured to her family, but Cynder knew what she really meant…

The black dragoness was snarling.

"Yeah, I am pretty buff." Firefly posed, making some girl dragonflies giggle in the crowd. "Isn't that right, sis'? My chiseled abs are to die for."

"Pah, and the tiny insects have an ego. Talk about unbelievable." Corrinthol wandered off with Torrdonal. "I call the warmest thicket!"

"Are there any thickets that are particularly dry?" Torrdonal asked someone in the crowd.

"I don't mean to impose none," A Mole appeared by Ignitia's flank, gesturing to the small crowd gathering in the center of the village. "-but could we please get some food? They were only giving us bread scraps."

"Certainly." Lightnux took the initiative. "I'll have our village chefs prepare a group meal. I hope our cuisine is enough for larger-folk."

"With meat additives, it ain't half bad." Spyra chimed. "I don't think I've ever been so eager to eat salamander before."


{🐉}

The dragonflies eventually worked through a period of confusion to elation. It seemed very shortly after the group had arrived, the insects were ecstatic about hosting a- 'Foreigner Gathering' –.

In the meantime, the party bathed themselves of the detritus of their battle. Spyra was eager as she dragged the Fallen inside her little thicket home and plopped him in the wooden tub she'd talked so much about, drenching them both in water and soap and forcing him to bathe with her.

"I wanted to do this since we got out of the temple." Spyra said as she sat in his sud-covered lap, flicking a bubble off his nose and giggling when he flinched. "...Bath buddy~."

When they had gotten to the drying-off part, Spyra had made him dance by whipping his backside with her drying cloth several times, only being forced to stop when he tackled her into her nest and kissed her into submission.

"...Y'know I used to sit in this room and fantasize about having a male with me." Spyra said, looking around at her little nook. "I didn't actually think I ever really would. Life's strange, dude."

"Tell me about it." The Fallen chuckled.

The other dragons soaked off in one of the ponds ringing the village, they were given the surplus of the soap Saphide made for Spyra, as evidently, the whole time during her absence, he had still been making bars for her in denial of something happening to her. Spyra did take a free moment to consul the older fly a little while later, even allowing him to hold her paw and laugh with her. He was a good friend, he deserved the attention, to know she was well.

Palmet even tried the dragonfly soap, but forgot to rinse off. He had been waddling around the village looking like a yeti for over twenty minutes before the Fallen found him and led him back to the pond to get all the suds off. Meep looked like a white ball hopping on the Ape's head the whole time, slurping up suds with a previously unseen mouth in the flower of his tentacles and belching out bubbles.

"If you think I'm going to stand idle and watch you all pamper yourselves, you're most certainly mistaken..." Cynder snarled from her pallet.

Spyra had responded by dumping a bucket of water over her head, laughing when the black dragoness shrieked and hatefully stared her down. The Fallen eyed the lines of rope tethering Cynder's form, blinking at them before turning back to the more pressing matter ahead.

Dragonflies brought out baskets of berries and apples, pitchers of amber-beer, and bowls of root-pulp stew (which given the name, actually proved quite popular with the Moles) and salamander steaks, though for the latter there were only a handful, and Spyra ate most of them, talking with her mouth full in reams to the Fallen and Ignitia.

The dragonflies lit little lanterns in the center of the village, bathing the normally aqua deep blue night a strange mix of such and amber. The shadows playing through the trees, mixing with the laughter of Moles and insects striking conversations, was fantastic.

Peaceful.

The Fallen could see why Spyra hadn't gone mad despite everything she'd told him of herself. She had a lovely home with lovely people. People the size of his hand, but people nonetheless.

The dragonflies didn't have furniture for larger species, so the Moles took to sitting in a wide circle on stumps, overturned buckets and mats laid out, dragonflies dotting the grounds around them as curious younglings asked all kinds of questions about the outside world. Some of the bolder denizens of the village had taken to perching on shoulders, wrists and kneecaps, of which the delighted Moles did not seem to mind.

Harad was mostly silent throughout the night, though an occasional joke among the masses earned a glimmer of a smile from him once or twice. He was very stoic. Spyra spent half a mouthful listing off a number of insults to the Fallen regarding a large pole crammed up the Captain's ass.

Corrinthol had complained about pretty much everything the dragonflies had brought out, his fussiness culminating in him attempting to swipe a salamander steak off Spyra's platter.

"Hey!" The Purple Dragon snapped. "My mommy cooked those for me and me only, shitbreath!"

The Fallen hadn't actually seen it, per-say (he was too busy striking up a conversation with a pair of Moles fascinated by his lack of fur) but he had heard the charismatic zap, and had caught a flash of yellow in the back of the gathering.

Corrinthol promptly danced away, shouting all kinds of insults and wanton cries with a black blister forming just beside the base of his tail. The Fallen outright pointed and laughed despite a few disapproving looks.

Stick it, shiteater.

At one point, as Spyra sat chewing happily with way too large bites of food, Ignitia had come to quietly set down beside her, keeping a respectful distance, but leaning close.

"…Spyra, may I speak with you for a moment? I promise I won't take long." She smiled hopefully.

"Huh? Oh, it's you… uhm… yeah, yeah what do you got on yer' mind, Ignitia." Spyra had difficulty maintaining eye-contact as she shoved an entire apple in her snout and crunched it, core and all, juice fleeing down her chin.

"I wanted to talk with you about the tower…" Ignitia folded her forepaws cat-like and doted on them. "…Inside Cynder's observatory, as I was collecting all of those books and those scrolls, I realized that I had made a terrible error, an extreme lapse in my own judgment…"

"…Okay?" Spyra awkwardly trailed, appearing only to half pay attention as she devoured seconds of everything she could grab. An apple rolled off her stuffed platter in the brief pause, her tail idly curling around and swatting it back into place.

"…Spyra I should've gone into the catacombs with you, to help free the prisoners, and to lead Morinth and Taliopia, like a true Wingleader should. But most importantly to prote-" Ignitia reconsidered her words, knowing Spyra's temper. "-to help you, and make sure you were alright, for my own sake. I confused my passions for my responsibilities. I pledged the moment I saw you in the temple that I would not lose you again, like I lost you all those years ago. Spyra, I am sorry, I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

The flame dragoness' fins preened as she gazed to Spyra with a warm, but desperate smile. She was prepared for a lashing out, or a request for her to leave, but Ignitia knew deep inside that she needed Spyra to say it was alright.

Spyra looked conflicted as she swallowed a last mouthful of salamander jerky and looked down at her platter, picking at something between some of her food.

"…Look, Ignitia, it's… it's fine. I mean, we are where we are, after, I dunno', two decades? Bordering on it? I technically breathe every day because you floated me down that river. I owe you more than I could ever ask of you, y'know?"

Spyra met the Guardian's eyes and blinked at the level of affection blossoming in Ignitia's gaze. Her wings were twitching, and her paws were kneading into her wrists.

"Thank you." Ignitia sighed, her voice whimsical as she bowed her taller head. "..I needed to get that off my wings."

"It's no problem." Spyra grinned and nudged closer to her platter, idly chewing. When Ignitia didn't move, she looked at her again and wing-shrugged. "…is that all, or…?"

"Oh, no, that was all…" Ignitia blushed and stood bolt upright, her tail curling in embarrassment behind her. She bowed and started to angle away. "I won't disturb you any further."

"A'ight, I'll check ya' later I gue-"

"-Actually, you wouldn't mind if I sat down, would you? Next to you? Here?"

"…No, go ahead." Spyra blinked. The Guardian was back on the ground faster than she'd made to leave it, sidling closer than she was before.

Their eyes met, and Ignitia smiled toothily, humming and breaking the link when Spyra quirked a brow.

"This is quite a beautiful home you have." The Guardian said.

"Pfft, you should smell it in the morning…" Spyra chuffed. "Yeah, it's not bad. It's just too quiet for me. Nothing ever gets done. All the dragonflies do really, is buzz around, fart glitter, make soap, cut fruit, sweep thicket floors…"

"That sounds lovely." Ignitia breathed. "Such humble lifestyles! I just might retire here when my Rite of Transfer comes along. Ah, but that is so far away…"

"Rite of whatchya' call it?" Spyra asked.

"Rite of Transfer!" Ignitia laughed. "As one of the Four Guardians of Warfang, it is my job to teach young dragons how to control and understand their element. Well, fire purely. My sisters handle their respective elements and the students who apply to them. It depends on a dragon's breath, I mentor all fire-breathers brought to the academy."

"So what's the Rite for? That sounds like a solid gig."

"When a Guardian becomes old enough, they can request a Rite of Transfer, it's…. oh, a proper comparison… knighthood! The process of a knight training a squire as their apprentice, and eventually bestowing their station to that apprentice when they believe they have mastered their craft." Ignitia explained. "I did not earn my position as Guardian through a Rite, my predecessor is an anomaly, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" Spyra shoved a wad of berries in her mouth. "Yur da bookworm, nuffin shuld be unkobn tu yu."

"That's the tricky part of it. It isn't only me, it's everyone in Warfang. Nobody knows what happened to Scarla Razorwing, she disappeared over forty-five years ago." Ignitia said. "Part of that might have been because she broke the Oaths of Abstinence."

Spyra hacked as she swallowed wrong, and gazed up at Ignitia in horror.

"You're tellin' me it's against the law for you people to fuck?!"

"In brash terms." Ignitia flushed and flicked at a pebble. "It's more complicated than that. The rule doesn't apply to other dragons, but Guardians have always practiced celibacy since the dawn times of the Dragon Realms. Our lives are to be wholly dedicated to our chosen element. But that goes along with a greater understanding of meditative intrigue, and inner peace. You can also pursue paths of combat, knowledge and discovery that most dragons can only dream of. It really isn't as bad as the prerequisites make it sound."

"…I dunno'," Spyra looked across all the Moles and dragonflies taking up the center of the village, her eyes locking on the Fallen as he browed a series of banquet platters laid out for picking. "…I guess that exempts me from the roster by default."

"What." Ignitia croaked, startling herself with her tone. She coughed. "Pardon me. I meant to ask: how so?"

"I ain't a virgin." Spyra cockily winked. "Least not anymore."

"O-Oh…" Ignitia's face sunk.

Someone had touched her hatchling… more than touched…

Ignitia shook her head.

She isn't of my nest, nor have I claim to her life.

"…But I thought we were the only dragons you had encountered so far? Ever." She stared.

"You are." Spyra jammed a pawful of baked sunflower seeds in her maw, chewing like an ox.

"…So then…" Ignitia raised her neck and surveyed the village. Her eyes fell on Corrinthol. "…Certainly not."

"Ugh-! Gawd', hell no. That guy's a fudgepacker." Spyra traced Ignitia's gaze and shuddered. "And a bitch. Can't hook up with a male who's a bitch."

"Was it… it couldn't have been Torrdonal?"

"…Why is this any of your business?" Spyra waited for an answer, but all Ignitia seemed capable of doing was flexing her mouth around, like she was cracking a stiff hinge in her jaw. "No, it wasn't any of your Wing."

"Are you telling me you mated with someone who isn't a dragon?"

"Maybe. Look, I shouldn't have mentioned it, alright, you were talkin' and I was just shooting the breeze because you're really awkward to talk to…"

"I am?" Ignitia looked flabbergasted. "Heavens, why am I awkward to talk to, Spyra? Was it something I said? Or did? It's because I asked about the... the mates thing isn't it?"

"…I dunno'…" Spyra wing-shrugged. "…It's just… I see the way you act, and I see the way you look at me."

Spyra nodded over to her family's thicket, where Lightnux and Cometcu were laughing at the combined jokes from Firefly and- strangely –Palmet, who apparently had such a good streak of punchlines, that Cometcu couldn't breathe.

"It's how Cometcu looked at me when I first opened my eyes on my hatchday." She glanced at Ignitia. "…I wasn't alive, in a sense, for a lot of your time with my egg, and I can't imagine how you felt basically letting me go down a stream, and hoping it all worked out-"

"Like someone had torn my heart from my breast." Ignitia choked. "I have never felt such guilt, and dread in my entire life, and never will again. A part of me died that night. I do not think I will ever get it back."

"…Like I said, it sucks, everything that's happened. The Apes, Malefora, the south being abandoned and all those eggs being lost." Spyra sighed. "But, Ignitia? I already have a mom."

For a moment, Ignitia didn't know what to say. It felt like someone had electrocuted her and rendered her stunned. She recalled an instance of shellshock, real shellshock, years ago, during one of her first battles leading Warfangian soldiers. A catapult round had landed among their positions, close enough to toss Ignitia to the ground and cover her in dirt.

A tinny whine.

That was all she heard then, it was all she heard now.

But the battle had been easy. Her hearing had returned fully at its conclusion. This…?

"…Oh." She smiled, expertly clamping down on her jaw to prevent it from quivering. "Well I certainly understand that, and I respect your feelings on the matter."

"…Yeah I don't mean to be a jerk or anything, I just-"

"It is okay, Spyra. It is very okay." Ignitia settled on her haunches, coldness stabbing her underneath her pleasant demeanor. "It's okay."

It didn't feel okay, and they still had a long night ahead of them...


{🐉}