Author's Notes:
The new decade had a terrible start. What a way to begin, eh? Well, here's a new chapter of Aimless. I hope it'll distract you guys from all the shit going on, at least for a few minutes…
Timestamp key: "D" for days, "W" for weeks, "M" for months, "Y" for years, "EM" for early morning, "LM" for late morning, "EA" for early afternoon, "LA" for late afternoon, "EE" for early evening, "LN" for late night, and "AD" for all day. Note that the Realms follows the sexagesimal system for keeping time, just like Earth. (In other words, 60 seconds per minute and 60 minutes per hour.)
Snip category key: There are four categories of snips. "Settling In", "City Life", "Beyond the Wall", and "The Journey Home". All four represent parallel storylines that take place within Aimless, and other than "Settling In", each snip category has at least two subtypes. Those subtypes aren't listed due to potential spoilers.
Enjoy!
Settling In
Chapter 41: Convention 1
"Any simply problem can be made worse if enough meetings are held to discuss it."
- Jill Stone
[41D/EA]
Warfang, the City of Dragons.
An enormous fortress city with gargantuan walls encircling its borders. Farmlands surrounded it from all sides, drawing life and prosperity from a river that snaked through the tunnels beneath the city and emerged between the Southern and Eastern Gates. A yellow and a black dragon soared across Warfang's skies, followed by a small contingent of dragon knights. The morning sun cast its pale glow on the latter's gleaming armour, which contrasted the earthen colors of the city beneath.
The black dragoness eyed the vast city below them. From this height, she could follow the main speedway leading from the Temple to the Eastern Gates and the scores of dragons flying along its preset course. But she did not travel for long.
With a sonorous flap of his wings, the Electric dragon in front of her plunged into a nose dive. She followed. The wind rushed past her earholes, caressed the membranes of their wings in passing, and blinded her to the reactions of passersby as she touched down beside Volteer, the Guardian of Electricity.
Cynder's emerald gaze took in their surroundings. The White Mountain loomed behind her. The Temple was a picturesque marvel of Mole architecture, its domed head and its four spires reaching for the skies, perched upon the mountain like a bird on a giant.
She noticed the spotless and pristine condition wherever her eyes went. The stones were bright and clean, the dirt quite literally scrubbed free from its surface. The surrounding buildings were of wood and rock. Brown, black, gray, yellow, red, and even a dark navy blue all melded together in a scene befitting one of Warfang's most affluent districts.
The roads were wide and the properties spacious, each with lush courtyards, gardens, and open spaces maintained by Moles and young dragons alike. Cynder had only just realized they were in a town square when Volteer started to talk.
"Ahh," he said, breathing in the fresh air. "Lodestar District of Central Warfang. I haven't been here in many cycles." The adult dragon turned to Cynder and cast his sight downwards. The Savior was thankful she was a few heads beneath him. She no longer had to crane her head up to look at him. "Cynder, did you see the speedway traffic on the way down?"
"Yes, Master Volteer—
"Just Volteer, my little 'dudette'," Volteer interjected, his yellow snout forming a cheeky grin. Ancestors, he must have picked that up from Joshua. "We can be casual with each other so long as we're not in a formal setting."
"Duly noted. At any rate, yes, I did notice the traffic. Many visitors today. I've never seen that many dragons circling above a VTOL point before, even in the Temple. While the roads..."
The roads were packed with visitors from the other districts. Many were traders and their wares, but there were just as many other people, going about their business. Whatever they were.
If there was one thing Cynder noticed, it was that these people looked just as clean and well-polished like the district itself. The bipeds wore clothes that neither stank of urine or were blemished by yellow stains of the lye used to clean them. The quadrupeds—the dragons—all had lustrous, shiny scales. Oiled to perfection, it seemed.
Volteer explained, "That's because Lodestar doesn't have as many VTOL points as the Temple. There are a few of them, so it's bound to have visitors queuing up in the speedways and the roads passing through here. Since Lodestar is one of Warfang's cultural centers, visitors from all districts near the center are a surety."
Five thuds on the ground sounded behind Volteer and Cynder. Even without a quick glance, she knew that was their entourage. Four knights from the Temple, along with a knight from Talonpoint Keep. The Talonpoint knight was a dragoness with her green and black scales forming a unique, striped pattern rarely seen among dragonkind. Her helmet, gauntlets, and torso armoring were even more impressive than the guards accompanying them.
"There were a lot of wings flying above that VTOL," Cynder caught her saying. "Alona, I'm happy we can fly anywhere we please! I wouldn't want my wings wrapped up in that mess."
"I concur with you, Emerine," Volteer replied. "It would've been a very irritable endeavor. However, the freedom of unrestrained flight is a privilege. It comes with great responsibility."
"Indeed, Master Volteer. Unlimited freedom of any sort will be to the detriment of our community as a whole."
While the two conversed on philosophical matters, Cynder took a few steps ahead and studied the town square. It was more or less a wide, empty space lined with tiles of smoothed stone. Erected on the very center was a massive statue, featuring a dragoness with pale, yellow scales.
Cynder ignored the passersby as she walked up to the pedestal. She was better off not paying attention to them. They stared at her, their muzzles betraying their feelings. About half glowered at her, perhaps wishing she'd die a terrible death right on the spot. Of the remainder, three of every four persons, dragon or otherwise, looked at her with an apathetic gaze. They didn't care for her at all, despite being one of the most recognizable residents in the City of Dragons.
Only a sheer minority smiled at her. Warmth fluttered in Cynder's heart when few even walked up to her and exchanged simple greetings.
The Heroine focused her gaze on the dragon statue ahead. Her twin horns spiraled upward. She had a mane that seemed to wave with an imaginary breeze, running from the crown of her head to the tip of her tail. The sculptor who shaped the work of art gave the dragoness a sleek and aerodynamic body, with wings to match.
Cynder studied her posture. The pedestal included a pile of scrolls beside the dragoness, who was sitting on her haunches, her snout held high, an undying gaze staring at Warfang skies with an outstretched paw and an expression of awe, of wonder.
"That, Cynder, is Lady Meredy."
The Savior flinched out of her trance and whirled around in shock to face the voice. It was Volteer, thoughtfully stroking the blue fin underneath his jaw.
By the Ancestors, the Guardian was quiet. How'd he sneak up on her like that?
Volteer had nothing to say in reaction to Cynder's surprise. "Dear Lady Meredy, the Weaver of Epics. While a renowned ancestor herself," he kept explaining, "Lady Meredy was nowhere near mythical figures like Azeroth the Infinite, Lifebringer Alona, or the Chronicler. She's a unique, if mortal, existence much like the Sunburst Dragon or Valorem the Principled. We remember her for her creativity, for the life she breathed into our traditions. It's why she's always depicted with scrolls lying around while listlessly staring at the sky, stupefied by what would become her next masterpiece."
Volteer strolled around the pedestal. He gestured to the Savior, beckoning her with his large wings. "Come over here." The dragoness followed the Guardian, who raised a talon and pointed it to a massive building behind the pedestal. "That building is Breath of Meredy, the largest playhouse in all of Lodestar District, and also its most prominent landmark."
Volteer provided her with a surprisingly concise version of its millennia-long history. Long story short, it was an establishment built by a descendant of the Weaver, whose bloodline had faded into obscurity centuries ago. Only the Chronicler would know who carried the Weaver's blood now. Unfortunately for the old dragon, his words passed through Cynder's earholes without absorption. The Savior had even stopped looking at Breath of Meredy after glimpsing the tall series of steps and the majestic yet quirky design of its architecture.
Because when she realized this towering playhouse was the landmark they were looking for, her emerald eyes started wandering. Their destination was close, for sure. As far as Cynder could see, surrounding the town square were large homes for the aristocrats, housing units for the well-to-do and either stores manned by a bear or an atlawa, or a marketplace filled with wooden stalls.
Ancestors, she needed some help.
"Volteer, sorry for interrupting you. If this is Breath of Meredy, then where's Conillion Hollow?"
The Guardian suddenly stopped. A look of confusion settled on his snout. "Uhhmm... oh, Egeria's horns, I seem to have forgotten. I did say it's been a very, very long time since I flew to Lodestar."
Cynder frowned. "Well you need to remember. The only thing I know about this 'Conillion Hollow' is that it's a 'kawa' house—whatever that means—and I've got no idea what to look for." She grumbled. Why did Terrador and the others want to meet there anyway? They could've just convened at the Audience Chamber. They didn't have to leave the Temple.
The Electric Guardian raised his hindleg and scratched at his head. He faced the other members of their party. "Can anybody among you provide the location of Conillion Hollow? I, err, I seem to have difficulty remembering..."
Emerine ogled him. Like the other knights, her features twisted into confusion. "I'm sorry, Master Volteer, but I rarely visit Lodestar District myself. I prefer spending my free time at Dragon Shores."
"Same here," spoke one of the guards. "This part of Warfang's just too damn snooty."
"Perhaps we should spread out, look for the place?" suggested another. "It can't be that far."
"Are you sure you can't recall anything, Master Volteer?"
"Ehrm, I... I do recall it's in this direction," he said, pointing at a building a couple minutes' walk away. "Or was it in that direction, hmmm..."
Mother of Knowledge, at the rate this flight was going, they were going to get lost once they left Breath of Meredy behind. Cynder considered asking somebody before this unhatched egg Volteer got them into cracked open.
Somebody... one of the passersby, yes. Cynder saw a couple bears speaking with an adult dragon. She trotted over to them with the question ready on her tongue.
"-endeavor won't happen without some support," Cynder overheard one saying as she walked up to them. "A slight, hmm, investment will go a long way."
The dragon coolly replied, "As it is with any venture. When will you show me the scrolls? I need to know if Gilded Wings is really supporting you two."
The other bear reached into his robes. "They are! Moneybags himself has given us a bit of coin, but—" He saw Cynder coming close.—"Oh! Hello there, Lady Cynder. Clear skies! Can I help you?"
"Steady winds. I'm looking for Conillion Hollow," Cynder flew straight to the point. "Do you know where that is?"
"I'm afraid I don't, my lady," he answered. The bear gestured at his fellow ursine. "B'harren and I are from Blowout District. We're just visiting a long-time client for a business proposal."
Cynder turned to face the other dragon when she heard that, but the other reptile was quick. "I have nothing to say to the Terror of the Skies," he declared. "Go fly in a volcano and bother someone else."
The dragoness's mood soured that instant. Just great! Another piece of dung who hated her. "I saved the Realms too," she uttered, gnashing her teeth. You jerk. "I also deserve some respect."
The reptile dismissed Cynder, "Doesn't change what you did." He walked away, not once even looking at her eyes. Otherwise he might have perceived the hurt—the sorrow—that gurgled within, beneath her anger.
Or so she'd like to think.
B'harren and the other bear trailed after the rude dragon. So focused were they on business that they forgot to even offer Cynder apologies on his behalf. The Savior grumbled while she watched them leave. Bears and their fascination for coin.
She walked along the edge of Meredy Square, the dragoness lost in her own thoughts. Though misguided, even defensive, when it came to Joshua, Spyro truly loved this city. He had gone far from the days of growing up among dragonflies, and in Warfang he was both a source of inspiration and a positive influence on many. So why were there still people who detested her for the things she'd been forced to do years ago? Cynder had been beating her wings for years trying to make up for the past. Eyes straight and ailerons flexed, as the saying went.
Yet, instead of following their great hero's lead and coming to terms with the truth of her existence, her feelings on the matter, and every heroic act she accomplished to date, countless people merely pitied Spyro for choosing her. Only a few accepted Cynder for who she was, and it pained her.
.
.
.
"See the latest mystery at Stone Hill Artisans!"
"A novel approach on the classic tale of Vasilis's forest encounter with Great Trickster Seldoot!"
.
.
And now she was seeing the same behavior play out against Joshua. Worse, Spyro was just being just as stubborn as the rest, and he refused to see reason. He probably didn't even want to talk; the dragon vanished from Windvale Arena as soon as the apprentices latched onto Joshua and clung to him as though he was salvation personified.
Should she just give up on Warfang? On Spyro? Should she face all of them and their obstinacy as she would her enemies? Drop all pretenses, forget about earning their acceptance, and focus completely on oneself? But what did that mean? What did that mean for Joshua?
.
.
.
"Way less coin for Guildmaster Darius's mystery than whatever's at Breath of Meredy tonight!"
"That's right! So come to Stone Hill Artisans and grab this deal before—huh?"
.
.
.
What did that even mean for Spyro and herself—
Oh, Lifebringer's mercy. No, she couldn't be thinking that. Anything but that. Her heart and soul couldn't take that. No... no! After all these years... that couldn't possibly—
.
.
.
A light tap on Cynder's foreleg snapped her out of it. The sides of her snout were damp, and the Savior couldn't hide her despairing expression from the person who stood before her.
A Fire dragoness a couple heads shorter than her. An adolescent. Her lime-green eyes winced at whatever had etched itself on Cynder's muzzle. "Uhm... hello there, L-Lady Cynder..."
"What?" she sniffled and grunted simultaneously.
Cynder regretted it from the moment the young dragoness flinched, curling in on herself, her face apologetic. It must've sounded intimidating. "I'm sorry," she wanted to say, but for some reason the Savior couldn't get the words out.
"I, I hope I'm not bothering you," stammered the young dragoness, anxiety clearly fixed on her mien. She gave Cynder a deferential bow, inadvertently displaying the dorsal fins running along her back. They were a bright, eye-catching orange. "C-clear skies."
Cynder sighed. Scaring away a whelp who wanted to talk to her was the last thing she needed right now. And so with the back of her forepaw she wiped away the wetness on her onxy muzzle and, putting in some effort in her smile, replied back. "Steady winds. It's all right; ground yourself. You did nothing wrong."
The dragoness breathed out a drawn-out sigh of relief. Her scales glowed a deep and dark shade of red under the afternoon sun. It reminded Cynder of a kind of liquor the aristocrats liked to drink. The beverage wasn't exactly something she'd fly in circles and loops for, not that she was fond of drinking to begin with, but she knew it was produced from the fermentation of sweet, red berries grown in vineries in the Valley of Avalar.
"Whew, praise Alona," the other dragon said, her demeanor regaining its calm. "Why are you here, my lady?" she asked. "I've never seen you before. I-in this part of Warfang, I mean." Her tone was gentle. Soft. As though she feared angering one of the city's most recognizable persons. The caution was unwarranted, thought Cynder, with the curiosity in her gaze so utterly apparent.
Cynder turned her head towards Breath of Meredy, to point at Volteer and their entourage. Her breath slightly hitched when she saw she could cover the statue of Meredy with her paw. It was so far. By Azeroth, how could she have let herself walk all the way to the other side of the square? "I'm here on official business actually," she replied, not letting her astonishment show. "Not sure where though..."
"I wish I could help," said the younger dragon, her snout forming what Cynder felt was a sympathetic grin. Her posture drooped considerably. The flaps of scale and cartilage covering her ears where her horns should've been—as was the case with the vast majority of dragons—withered with it. "I'm only in Lodestar District because of my guild and we're situated much closer to the VTOL point than Breath of Meredy."
Cynder met the other reptile with a smile of her own. "It's all right. We'll figure it out on our own."
"Hmmm, okay." She craned her head down and bit at the strap of a satchel she wore around her neck. The dragoness turned the latch, flipped the bag open, and stuck her forepaw inside. "You know, maybe you should... maybe you can consider visiting Stone Hill Artisans later?" She took out a small scroll and handed it to the Savior. "I'm one of the barkers for the guild and, errr, I don't know if you heard me a while ago but, we're opening next Virith with a new mystery and we'd, w-we'd love to have you among our audience." She smiled again. "And if you ask me, I, I think—honestly I think you need it."
Oh. The barker must've seen her earlier. Cynder groaned. Oh no, now the news was going to spread across Warfang's airstreams—
"It's okay, Lady Cynder." She glanced down at the barker, who was fidgeting in her place, rubbing both forepaws together as though she was hesitating on doing... something. Cynder didn't think much of it when the barker's voice sounded supportive rather than something more contrived. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone. I'm not that kind of dragon."
"...Thank you."
"Alright, the scroll I just gave you contains a brief summary of our mystery. I'm sure, when you browse through it, you''ll see that you can empathize with—
"Oho! There you are!"
Both Cynder and the barker turned at the sound of the dour voice that interrupted their conversation. It was a bear. He set his backpack down by his feet and addressed the latter. "So glad I found you. By the Invisible Hand, I gave away lots of scrolls, even managed to sell a few seats. I'm basically done. I was worried you flew off to Market knows where crying 'cause everybody kept ignoring you."
The barker frowned. "People always ignore the monoscale," Cynder was close enough to hear her mutter under her breath. "I can't help it if I was hatched that way..."
"At the rate I'm going," babbled the bear. "I'll need more giveaways before we return to the guild. I'll happily take those away from you. It'll keep Guildmaster Darius off your pretty little tail and the bonus I'll get from him will go straight into my favorite qawa house next door." Cynder snapped to attention. The bear's pronunciation was slightly different from hers, but she was certain she heard him correctly.
Meanwhile, the bear continued smirking at his fellow barker. "So what're you doing all the way here? I haven't heard your voice since you trotted off closer to Meredy Square"—he finally noticed the bigger and noticeably black dragoness who'd been standing next to them this entire time—"Whoa! Lady Cynder! I didn't see you there."
He bowed his head in apology, bending his waist even further than the bows Joshua sometimes did, and for the same reason. "Many-many-many fervent apologies, my lady. I was too busy ensuring my fellow guildmate and I acquire suitable returns on our guild's invested capital for our newest mystery."
Cynder waved at him. "Raise your head," she said. "I don't know what you may have heard about me, but I'm not really fond of all these formalities. I'd like it if you"—she glanced at the other barker.—"and you were both casual with me."
The dragoness nodded at her in acknowledgment of her request. She opened her mouth to keep talking, only for the bear to raise his voice and drown her out. "Then so be it, Lady Cynder!" he said, ignorant of the dejected withering of his guildmate. "I'm not sure if my fellow barker informed you already, but our guild, Stone Hill Artisans, is—
"I know about the latest mystery," Cynder cut him off. She showed the small scroll the dragon barker gave her, twitching her paw a bit, to give it a slight wave. Luckily she was wearing her neck pouch for occasions like this. It was a gift from Spyro last year, with a few scales from his own purple hide sown into it. Cynder shoved the depressing thoughts about him away. Now was not the time. "Your friend here was just talking about it when you walked in on us."
"Ahhh. Good. Good!" He chuckled. "At least she isn't that hopeless with other people."
The smaller dragoness ogled the bear, her green eyes narrowing at the jab. She said nothing, ostensibly riding the air currents to wherever it led her. She opened her maw again. "Lady—I mean C-Cyn, Cynder—
She was interrupted again. "So does this mean you're interested? Darius would be ecstatic!"
Cynder shut her eyes and ruminated over the offer. It represented a chance to relax and forget about life for the moment. She had no idea what was in store for her next week, but if she based her expectations on the last ten days alone, she was sure there were going to be plenty of headaches along the way. Spyro would surely make her miserable when they fight over Joshua again. If not Spyro, then Azeroth's horns, it would be someone else. At worst, it might involve the Empire again, and having Skylands breathing hellfire on the Allied Territories would be terrible for everyone here.
She dropped the thoughts immediately. Again, now was NOT the time.
"I'll think on it," Cynder answered. There, a neutral, non-committal reply. Perfect. "By the way, are you familiar with Lodestar District?"
The other barker piped, "Oh yes, he is! He actually lives—
"I live a quick walk away from Meredy Square," he replied. "Why, is there anything you need, my lady?"
"Oh, Ancestors, why do I even bother..."
Cynder couldn't help but make a wry grin at the other dragoness's plight. If she wanted the space to talk, she should push for it and raise her voice the way her guildmate did with his. She needed to be more assertive, more forceful about it. Otherwise, she would fly into this crevice again and again and again, until she finally learned her lesson. But Cynder stayed out of it. There was no reason for her to get involved with someone else's problems when she had so many of her own.
"I do, actually. Have you heard of Conillion Hollow?" She pointed to her party on the other side of the square. Only Volteer and Emerine remained by Breath of Meredy, both dragons obliviously engaged in a discussion of (probably) no importance while the rest of their entourage were scattered about, accosting the passing merchants. "Volteer and I have some official business there and we're a bit—no, we are lost. I'm hoping you can help us."
"Conillion Hollow?" repeated the bear. He uttered the name again, tasting the words as the air left his brown, furry maw. "Hmmm... is there anything else you can tell me about this establishment? I swear to the Invisible Hand, Lady Cynder, that I've never heard of it before. Still, the name is very, very familiar to me for some reason."
"It's a kawa house," Cynder said. "That's—
"It's 'qawa', my lady. Kwa-huwa," he emphasized. "Not 'kawa'."
The Savior hoped her growing frustration with the bear didn't show. He was starting to get on her nerves. "Ooookay. Well... however you say it, that's really all I know about Conillion Hollow, aside from the nearest point of interest being Breath of Meredy."
He hissed. "Can't shake paws on that, I'm afraid. I need more information. You see, both Lodestar and Blowout have plenty of qawa houses to begin with—it's the latest trend nowadays—and the ones here are centered around Breath of Meredy."
Cynder's muzzle fell at the news. All this time she presumed Conillion Hollow was a well-known place. She didn't expect that there would be so many more of its type. She strained herself to figure out how she could get the bear to help.
She didn't know what it looked like.
She didn't know where it was in relation to the square.
But she did know Terrador liked it here. Volteer said so himself.
"I'm," she began, "not sure if this will help, but it's a kawa house—
"Qawa house, my lady."
Ancestors, the way he was butting in was seriously starting to remind her of Joshua. "A kahua house that—
"Hm, better. A bit more practice and I'm sure you'll fit right in with Warfang nobility!"
But she didn't care about those nobles! she wanted to say. She gnashed her teeth. If this furball interrupted her one more time...
"That Terrador goes to. I heard from Volteer it has a large courtyard for formal gatherings, or private meetings."
"Hmmmm..."
.
.
.
The bear scratched his jaw. "Nothing really comes to mind."
"Uhhh, excuse me?"
His guildmate drew their attention. The Fire dragoness was looking at her, keeping her forepaw raised high enough for both Cynder and her fellow barker to see the soft, brown paw pads.
"What is it?" Cynder asked.
"I think... I think you're referring to Gavin's place."
"Gavin?" spoke the bear. "As in Gavinus? That brainless musclehead?" He shook his head. "The qawa he brews there is subpar! Why would anybody want to go there? My lady, Councilor Kaufer would never show his snout in that sort of place; neither should—
A familiar voice entered Cynder's earholes. "And why wouldn't he?" it sneered, the voice stained by a hint, a dash of irritation. "I am acutely aware Moneybags has, with all the gems, coin, and riches he's accumulated as guildmaster of Gilded Wings, developed a taste for the finer things in life. Conillion Hollow is renowned in our city, and for good reason. After all, everybody's copying that 'brainless musclehead'."
Cynder didn't have to turn around to see who it was. The younger dragoness practically confirmed her suspicion when she blanched and immediately made a respectful bow. "M-m-master Volteer!" she greeted him. "Clear skies. It's, i-it's good to see you."
"Steady winds, Little Wing," the Guardian replied back before turning on her guildmate. "And if I recall correctly, according to records kept by Over Steward Hoffbar's staff, Moneybags had sent plenty of coin to the bear who owns the Gemcutters tavern here in Lodestar. Sounds like someone here is being biased, prejudiced, tendentious!"
Volteer stepped in and placed himself next to Cynder. He adjusted his posture, to increase his size and highlight the dark, blue scales lining his belly. He glared down at the bear, waiting for his reply, practically daring him to rebut everything he just said.
An awkward silence settled on the group. It certainly didn't help that the other knights followed Volteer to this side of the square. Emerine placed herself on Cynder's other side, putting the Savior between the Guardian of Electricity and a fierce knight of Talonpoint Keep.
The moments quickly became seconds.
The bear chuckled nervously. He tugged at the collar of his tunic. "Mmmhmmm. I must say, I am entitled to my opinion and I am free to express it however I want."
"Within reason. There is no such thing as unlimited freedom in our city."
"Y-yes, yes. Of course! Totally concur with you, my lord." The bear slowly shuffled away from them. "Absolutely, ten billion percent agree! Oh, Invisible Hand! I must go now. Got to return to work, wouldn't you say? Right? Right?"
He snatched the other barker's satchel faster than she could react. In a few smooth movements, he had transferred all the tiny little scrolls packed inside into the backpack by his feet. "See you around, Master Volteer, Lady Cynder. Duty calls!"
Emerine inched forward. "Hey, wait a minute, they're not done with you—
"Talk to the monoscale! She's a big lizard. She can handle it!" yelled the bear as he scampered off, going so far as to crouch down and flee from the entire group of high-flyers on all fours.
Leaving behind a confused and visibly nervous dragoness, her maw agape and her dilated eyes transfixed at the direction he ran away in.
Emerine turned to the other knights. "After that rude egg! Furball's not getting way with such disrespect!" She snapped her wings open and with such force they were as thunderclaps in their ears. The younger barker jolted in reaction, startled by the sudden, aggressive movement. "Come, let's—
"Stay aloft, Emerine!" cried Volteer. "Stay aloft!"
The Talonpoint knight paused. "Master Volteer! Y-you can't just—
"I have the authority. You do not. As he said, he has the right to his own opinion. Although it may foster rude behaviour, at least we are not mimicking the imperious infallibility of Skylands." He smiled and gestured at the other barker. "Moreover, it's not as if he left us behind completely helpless. His guildmate is still here."
The dragoness looked quite flustered by the sudden turn of events. "Uhhhhm." Having been abandoned by her guildmate, she reluctantly—nervously—shyly raised a forepaw. "Hiiii...?"
Volteer loomed over her. He had a kind, if grandfatherly, expression on his muzzle. "And salutations to you too, Little Wing. You'll help us, will you?"
She reacted with a weak grin. "W-without a doubt," she stuttered.
.
.
.
Despite claiming she wouldn't have been of any help to their party, by flabbergasting coincidence the other barker actually knew where Conillion Hollow was, and it was much closer than expected. She simply didn't know it by that name.
"That's because Gavinus lets Tomas, our bard, play a gittern for his guests when the Artisans aren't performing any mysteries," the dragoness explained. "It's good practice."
"And you're saying he's a dragon?" asked Volteer.
"Yes, Master Volteer."
"But that means he doesn't have thumbs! So how..."
"I don't know, but he's amazing. I visited him once last winter and he put all the bipeds to shame."
"Intriguing!" he exclaimed. "Very intriguing. I must see your mystery at least once. I am definite the auditory experience shall be terrific."
Cynder glanced at the sun. It was in the middle of the afternoon. If they weren't late before, they were now. She tapped at Volteer's paw. "Psst. Volteer! We need to go."
"One last thing," the old dragon said. "You know, Little Wing, I am curious the Artisans let someone like you into the guild."
"Errr, what do you mean?" She tilted her head, confused.
"First, you look young. Perhaps not older than fifteen years, I surmise. Second, and forgive me for saying it, but you are a monoscale. I'm sure you are conscious of the stigma. You, comprehend what I'm insinuating, don't you?"
The barker didn't answer immediately. Her lime-green eyes shifted to the walls in the far distance, then to the Temple rising up from the very center of this vast city. Her earflaps twitched.
"I haven't been with the guild for very long," she finally answered. "Guildmaster Darius once told me Stone Hill Artisans hasn't been the same since the War ended, and he needed people with passion. People 'kissed by Meredy', he calls them, whoever they were."
"I see." Volteer's mood turned somber, as did Cynder's. Malefor's desire to rend the entire world asunder had dealt a heavy blow to the Realms, and this was but one tragedy that resulted from his ambitions. Not as catastrophic and bloody as the genocides Cynder herself led as the Terror of the Skies, but equally damaging to all that made dragonkind unique.
Cynder tapped the Guardian's hindleg one more time.
"I confess, I must cut this short. We are long tardy for our appointment, and we need to go." Volteer bowed his head at the barker, who shrunk back at the gesture.
"M-m-master Volteer! S-someone like, l-like you doesn't have—not to a young nobody like—
Cynder resisted the urge to laugh at the way her maw fell open in shock. How cute! In the end this barker was, in several ways, still a child.
"Thank you for your kindness, Little Wing," Volteer said. "May Alona's grace let us meet again."
The barker went still. She blinked a few times and took a few deep breaths. This adolescent had never interacted with people on par with her status, Cynder realized from just observing her. How surreal did this encounter seem to her? the black dragoness wondered.
"L-likewise, m-muh, Master Volteer," she stuttered, doing her best to stay calm. "It's a... a pleasure to meet you, and Lady Cynder, too. Thank you."
And with that, the group turned around and returned to Breath of Meredy. According to the barker's directions, Conillion Hollow was actually behind the playhouse. They'd have to follow the pathways circling around it, where the wide, open area of the town square drastically narrowed into small courtyards surrounded mainly by homes, with the occasional store or diner sprinkled into their midst. Some were kawa—kahua—oh Ancestors, Cynder could never get it right!—kawa houses, just as the bear said.
Conillion Hollow was actually enormous for what it was, being the size of a successful trader's home. All they had to do was watch out for a dragon carved right out of a kind of green, opaque crystal, placed on a pedestal in the middle of its front garden.
However, the group hadn't even reached the middle of Meredy Square when Cynder heard the rapid pit-a-pat of padded feet rushing in their direction.
"Wait! Waiiiit!"
They stopped and turned around. Cynder was taken aback when she saw the barker sprinting towards them, her satchel swaying haphazardly around the neck. Their guards, knowing this Fire dragoness didn't pose much of a threat (and remembering the quick talk she just had with both Cynder and Volteer), didn't do a thing and let her approach the Guardian—
No. She approached her.
The barker stopped a wingspan away from Cynder. She hunched forward, breathing heavily.
"What is it?" Cynder asked.
"Cynder"—the barker coughed and straightened her body—"Lady Cynder. I almost forgot. There's, t-there's something I want to ask you." The Savior studied her posture. The poor girl was trembling. She clutched at the stones with her claws, smacking her chops. "It's... I... I hope, I-I hope you'll take this well. It's, i-i-it's not—
"Ground yourself. There's nothing wrong with asking questions." Just don't expect me to answer all of them, Cynder thought.
The barker calmed down and took a few deep breaths, perhaps to banish the anxiety for the moment. "Will he be okay?"
Cynder's snout twisted into a bewildered mien. "Will who be okay?"
She winced. The reflex left Cynder with the impression the barker hadn't exactly thought this through. "Lady Cynder, to... well, to tell you the truth, I'm an apprentice at the Temple. A live-in apprentice, really."
Alright... that doesn't sound too strange.
She continued, "I've been hearing that Josh—Eep! I-I-I mean that, t-that the furless ape was caught with my—with another apprentice in Alona Hall, and by Lord Spyro, no less! I... I know it's none of my business, and I-I don't really mean to pry, but... I heard he was just, uh, just trying to help someone and..." The barker ran out of words. She slouched forward, unable to look at Cynder in the eyes. "I'm worried."
Cynder eyed the dragoness. She swore the kid almost said "Joshua" out loud. The furless ape's name wasn't something a lot of people knew. How did this apprentice come across that? Her suspicions of this adolescent's motives rose the longer she pondered over her words. She was worried? Worried about what? About Joshua?
No. That didn't make any sense!
Hmm...
Her own apprenticeship, then? Now that was far more likely. For all Cynder knew, this dragoness might have already heard of the test flight they held in Windvale Arena this morning. People talked, and Warfang's airstreams easily absorbed rumors and gossiped like bulak fibers.
"You're right. This has nothing to do with you." The barker's ears went lower. Her snout dipped a little further. Cynder sighed, feeling the headaches return. "However, because you helped us, I'll let it fly just this once. That incident led to at least couple more and by the time the storm blew over we"—she had to be careful how to word this. The barker hadn't given her the impression she was the talkative type, but Cynder didn't know her and didn't trust her at all—"hmmm, well, you can say we're currently exploring new options."
"You're, not going to have him killed, are you? I heard he's been doing a great job with the Moles too." She appeared... distressed? Spring of Fortune, that's unexpected.
Cynder glared down at her. "I'm not sure how much you actually know but... like I said, we're exploring new options. That's all I'm willing to say about it."
"Oh, okay..."
Cynder couldn't tell if the barker was relieved or disappointed. "Anything else?" she questioned her, stolidly.
"N-no. That's, that's all I wanted to know, Lady, L-Lady Cynder." The barker presented her neck, bowing her head so low it almost reached the ground. "Thank you so much."
"Just keep the information to yourself," Cynder commanded. Her words carried an implied threat behind them. "Got it?"
"...I'm, I'm not that kind of dragon. I have your neck."
"I know. I'm just making sure."
.
.
.
Cynder walked away from the town square with her chest feeling like a heavier weight had been thrown onto it. The airstreams had its eyes and ears focused on anything related to Joshua. If that monoscale barker was spending her free time outside the Temple like this, how about the others? What were the hundreds of people living—working in the Temple doing, when they weren't busy, when they had time to themselves, their families, or their friends?
It worried Cynder. People talked, and when they talked, stories were exaggerated, easily reaching into the realms of hyperbole. Stories that could trigger something, an event that could destroy everything she and Volteer worked hard on for the past red cycle.
They had to do something about Joshua now, before the citizens of Warfang made the decision for them.
Luckily for them, Gintomyr the Prosperous saw to it that their short walk to Conillion Hollow was both quick and uneventful. Nobody accosted the group of knights and high-flyers making their way through the roads with a peculiar sense of energy guiding each step, and with the barker's directions, none of them got lost.
A combination of relief and foreboding stirred in Cynder's heart when she finally saw a large building with an unusually wide garden in front of it, her gaze drawn to a green crystal dragon standing in the very center.
Conillion Hollow at last.
Author's Notes:
Direct continuation to Convention is still in the process of being written. Had to split it up as the length was getting a bit too long for my taste.
Also, the country I'm working in has announced a fucking LOCKDOWN for the next thirty days, starting on March 15th. It's hell. I've already stocked up on a decent amount of disinfectants, toilet paper, food, and other stuff a couple days before the hoarders and the crowd rushed in.
As long as I don't get sick I'll have plenty of time to write and finish the next chapter or two.
OH! If you're a grown-up reader and you've got a job that pays well enough for you to have disposable income, I highly recommend checking out the stock market and go hunt for a good long-term investment. The last time the markets fell this badly was in 2008. Better take advantage of all the steep bargains while you can! The time to buy is when everybody's running for the hills. You won't regret it.
Replies to reviews:
Djax80. Good to see you again, dude. You know, your message reminded me of the "Dancing Fingers" massage that's famous in Bali, Indonesia. I've tried it with my waifu and it's really good… but that's off-topic.
If Joshua was actually willing, he would develop a good reputation even faster than being a teaching assistant. Unfortunately, the kid thinks it's a menial, demeaning job on the same level as manual scavenging. He'll never do it.
I will be jumping back and forth between Joshua's second month (which will be even more "slice of life" than before) and the December Cliffs series, the first major story arc in Aimless. Just to be clear though, the slice of life sections can also lead to progress in the main story.
Sol1234. Good to hear from you again, Sol! You didn't have to tell me through a review, y'know. Could've just PM'd me. I don't put the stuff I'm following on alerts because I find push notifications annoying, so I try to log on to FFN once a day to check on updates for my favorites. PM notifications may be disabled, but I'll see your message pretty quick.
How's your story going though? :D
Derick Lindsey (guest). Heh, I introduced Claytor simply for this purpose. Yeah, he'll have to deal with Spyro during the December Cliffs mission, but despite his worries about the drama this separation will cause, he feels more confident in the mission's success with the "Legendary Purple Dragon" accompanying his vintain.
I think Spyro's reasons for going to December can be inferred from what I've written so far. No need for "Word of God" to go and spoil it for y'all.
That's a hilarious picture you imagined, BTW.
Chaoscontrol108. Thanks for the review!
Yep, no direct involvement from Joshua for a change. The December Cliffs arc will focus COMPLETELY on Spyro, but through the viewpoints of other characters. This is going to be a fun ride, I promise you. Only two other people know my plans for this arc and they're both excited to see it play out.
Angstcannon. Thanks for the review! Glad you think it's great.
As per your comment on world-building, thing is, it comes with pros and cons. Sure, it gives your story more life, but it can slow down your pacing or distract your audience. I follow Hiraeth mainly because of your chosen plot, and I would expect your readers are following you for the same reason.
Meanwhile, Aimless deals with the theme of carving out a life for oneself in an alien world and dealing with the consequences of whatever life throws at you. It's basically a story of immigration. Sure, there IS a storyline that chugs along in the background, one that has Joshua smack-dab in the middle of it, but that's just to play into the concept that we cannot control everything in life. That we oftentimes have no choice but to go with the flow and do our best with the cards that have been dealt to us.
You just need an appropriate amount of world-building. Just enough so you can give life to your world, but not so much that this life becomes the sole focus of your story, unless that was your plan to begin with.
Hope to see you in the next chapter!
Guest #1 (guest). Keep waiting then. It'll be a long time before Spyro even sees Joshua again.
Piston24. Hello! Thanks for the review and thank you very much for your congratulations and well-wishes.
Both "Beyond the Wall" and "The Journey Home" chapter categories will increase in frequency as the timestamp goes up, just letting you know. A lot of the shit that will go down in Aimless will be classified under these two categories.
December Cliffs is a nice name for the arc, right? XD I've already thrown in tons of hints of what's possibly going on here. Go and figure it out. Spyro's in for quite a ride.
The chapter not including Joshua is deliberate on my part. It's a departure from the long-standing characteristic of Aimless thus far, which is that every chapter somehow involves the kid, directly or indirectly. The Dragon Realms goes far beyond the only human to ever set foot in it, so you better get used to seeing chapters that don't feature our poor, unlucky gamer from time to time.
Hope you've had a nice day! The world's going bonkers with COVID-19 right now.
Coollatiospokemon4342. Thanks for the review, coollatios! Glad you're still following Aimless.
I juggle a lot of stuff aside from my fanfic, y'know. My waifu, video games I want to play, my personal investments, my other stories (currently planning an original work that I plan on running concurrently with Aimless), etc. If I can do it, so can you, if you ever decide that you want to write.
See you in the next chapter.
LoNeWoLf (guest). Hehehe evidently you pay close attention XD Good. I won't be surprised if you figure out a few things. lol
Bizzleb. I feel honored, dude. Thank you so much. ^_^
It'd be funny if Joshua was like me, also rereading those clichéd stories from time to time.
As stated before I'll be juggling December with Joshua's second month, so… bear with me if I don't move too fast on Eyria. XD
Thanks so much for the well-wishes, bizzleb. See you in the next update!
DiabloPProcento. Oh, you caught me! Yeah, you're right. I didn't want to write a long, drawn-out chapter. I conveyed all the things I wanted to convey and left it at that. Once I got those established, telling was far more convenient than showing it.
And sorry if I haven't put up "Jelly" yet. I got busy. XD
Iceman3423. Good to see you again, Iceman! Thanks for reading, and thanks for the well-wishes for my new marriage.
The December Cliffs arc practically kicks off the "Beyond the Wall" category, so I'm really excited for it.
I've never intended for Claytor to be as another viewpoint for world-building purposes. Truth is, he exists so I can avoid using Spyro's POV for the December arc, which will be told through three different OCs. Altai, Claytor, and one other OC you might recognize if you've read many of the popular "human in the TLOS Spyro world" fics from long ago.
Glad you like what I'm doing with Spyro. Thanks for the comment.
See you in the next chapter!
Guest #2 (guest). No comment. :D
BronzeHeart92. Hello and thanks for the review!
The words Vintaine and Vinetar aren't my invention, FYI. These words originated from the medieval unit of military. In the Middle Ages, the knights are basically organized into vintaines (20-man units), centaines (100-man units), and millaines (1000-man units). They are led by vinetars, centenaries, and millenaries, respectively. This organization doesn't include roles/functions though. And let's not forget the conroi: a small elite unit whose job is to execute battle-changing maneuvers.
Not sure what you mean about Spyro being black and white…
Guest #3 (guest). Listened to Trading Yesterday's "Shattered". It's pretty good, though I'm not gonna slap it on as a defining song of Aimless.
A better one would be "Meanwhile Back at Mama's" by Tim McGraw. It's a country song. The lyrics in the chorus don't describe the same kind of life that Joshua led back on Earth, but the tone and emotion in the song matches what I ultimately want from the story.
JDM (guest). Thank you very much, JDM. Hope to see you in the next chapter.
Vort (guest). Thanks for the review, Vort. Glad you like my fic. :D
Thanks for advice too, but I already know how to work with bad guys. (See my Digimon story if you have the patience to go through it.) The villains in Aimless operate on very long timehorizons, so their actions are mainly a slow burn, with signs of their activity sprinkled across chapters. Sometimes they'll appear in post-A/N segments, or they'll be woven into the narrative waiting for a deep reader to find them. XD
See you in the next update, if ever!