Creative Corner

This was adorable and I'm now terrified what fresh horror approaches

[quote name="Tempestuous" date=2015-10-24 07:16:26] [quote name="Neige" date=2015-10-24 07:06:03] [quote]Of course, now I'm expecting something terrible to happen to them next chapter. >_>[/quote] [/quote] [/quote] Aww, see, no reason to be scared. [s]not yet[/s] @Zexeos BEARS ARE MY FAVE AND SHRIKE NEEDS ONE @Tempestuous Sure thing, like the new username! ^^

@Wolcan - happy to add you, thanks for the interest! That sentence means "Scales like fire, brown eyes like--", more or less. I took some rudimentary French long long ago, so grammar mistakes are entirely possible, haha.

[center][b]Chapter 22: Those Before Us[/b] @LagMonster @Khoshekh @Tempestuous @starslang @Scyras @excessnight@pensandink @Solaristigres @Nihilo @WillowWhisper @Averis @SolarPhoenix@RizuChan @ArgenteaMoon @Elzerei @eeeeel @tigressRising @hotdoge@Dragonfang @Whimzica @Soleil @Zexeos @windsway @Neige @KIMJA @rax@PandragonsBox @Silurian @Wolcan[/center] Raust sat hunched at the mouth of the lair, shivering. He felt a little strange eavesdropping like this, but it was better than interrupting. The other three were bonding and he didn’t quite belong, so it was best to wait his turn. This...[i]holiday[/i] of theirs was certainly not sanctioned by the order, but he’d changed his mind about his desire to participate. He needed them – especially the little fae – to trust him. Before he shared what they knew with her, he needed her on his side. So, he’d do this gift-giving thing. Even if it meant standing outside in this freezing wasteland, now forsaken by even the sun. He cleared his throat once the conversation had died down – and then again, more loudly. Chime swung her head around to look at him, a slow smile creeping over her lips. “Ah. I see the divines’ chosen one has alighted from his pedestal to join us.” Glaring, he ground his claws into the ice and tried not to think about how much he wanted to strangle her with her stupid scarf. [i]Gladekeeper grant me patience. [/i]“Hmm,” he sniffed, noncommittal. “While I don’t necessarily [i]agree[/i] with the celebration itself, I’d still like to present a gift.” “Present a present,” Clementine said softly, and giggled. “Who to?” “To all of you. You’ll have to follow me, though.” Without waiting for assent, he turned and headed back inside – his feet felt like they were solid blocks of ice. The others followed, curiosity piqued. He was headed for the room he’d found the other day, the one he’d started to unconsciously refer to as “the temple”. “Come in, come in,” he urged as they reached the doorway. They filed in after him – Clementine looking confused but excited, Shrike still distracted by the bear lumbering along behind her, and Chime as masked and unreadable as always. “Please, take a seat.” He’d managed to right some of the benches lining the grand room, propping them up with stone bricks and ruined books. “I’m afraid this is a verbal gift rather than a physical one.” He’d taken his place in front of the altar – it was immediately comforting. This was where he belonged, even if he had to lecture in an icy temple rather than his chapel. “I’ve learned a little bit of the history of this place in these past few days, and I’d like to share it, if you’d permit me.” Clementine nodded eagerly, and he smiled at the fellow natureborn before continuing. “Very well. As you’ve noticed from the state of the library, there are very few intact paper records, so most of what I’ve gathered is from wall carvings. As I guessed, this lair is extremely old – from what I can tell, it was built around the time dragons began populating Sornieth. There are engravings in the main hall – and some tapestries, not too badly degraded – showing the collapse of the Pillar.” “The Pillar mythology,” Chime cut in. “You’re getting into religious tales rather than history.” He shot her a look, but didn’t feel like arguing. “Pillar?” Shrike and Clementine asked, almost simultaneously. Raust looked at them in shock. Had they never had a history lesson in their lives? “You’ve never heard of the Pillar. Well, it’s...never mind. I can explain later, it doesn’t much pertain to this. [i]Anyway,[/i] this is a very old place. There’s some script in here and on various walls, written in an old tongue – I couldn’t read it all, but it’s similar enough to an archaic fireborn language I’ve studied to get the essence of it. There’s a story here, and this is how it goes.” He paused for effect, seeing that he had their full attention. “Long ago, four ice dragons – a tundra, a guardian, a fae, and a mirror – left behind crowded homelands to start anew. They believed that their old clans had forgotten the Icewarden, and they wanted to build a home where he was shown the respect he deserved. They were the chosen ones to carry this out, so they thought. This place started out as a simple enough ice cave – the four took mates, had children, and over time it grew. As far as I can tell, their rise to power came rather quickly – dragons heard about this place and petitioned to join. A few generations later, this clan was one of the largest and strongest on the Icefield. So powerful, in fact, that other flights were beginning to grow nervous.” Raust moved around to one side of the cave, into which stone reliefs had been etched. These were violent images – war, fire, victory, dragons embroiled in battles frozen forever. He traced one with a claw before speaking again. “This was during a time of great rivalry and distrust between elemental flights. War was common – there were small battles between individual clans, as well as massive campaigns of flight against flight. The clan that lived in this lair was caught up in a conflict that involved several flights – fire, most notably. From what I can tell, this clan had a violent feud with a powerful fire clan that spanned nearly a century.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shrike shiver involuntarily. He knew it wasn’t from the cold; it was a disquieting thing, thinking about how full of ghosts this place really was. “And that,” he continued, “is where this interesting doctrine comes from. He moved back to the grand carvings by the altar, tapping the gruesome Flamecaller. “You’ll see that the Icewarden and Flamecaller are pictured here as enemies, which is unusual. It’s my belief that their constant war against the fire flight seeped into their religion – they saw the fireborn as their enemy, so they would have seen the god as their god’s enemy as well.” “What happened?” Clementine asked, interrupting. “Sorry?” “What happened to them, this clan?” “Oh! That I can’t tell you, I’m afraid. New carvings stopped being made at a certain point – I don’t know if there was just no time to make them, or if the dragons were gone by then. There is a bit of script on the armory wall, alluding to some sort of final great raid. Nothing on the outcome of that, though, so it’s possible that they were all wiped out.” Clementine frowned, but didn’t say anything more. Shrike was nodding. “Thank you, Raust. If we’re going to stay here, it’s good to know about the dragons who made it, I think.” “My pleasure,” he replied, dipping his head toward her in acknowledgement. “I find it all fascinating, personally.” Chime , he noticed for the first time, was uncharacteristically still, but she burst back into action when he glanced her way. “Well, on that happy note, I think dinner is nearly ready. Clementine, come help me?” The tundra rose to her feet and followed as the spiral twirled her way out of the door, Shrike close behind them. Raust stayed behind a minute, running his eyes once more over the carvings. This was a peaceful place, but it was a heavy sort of peace. [center][img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif[/img][/center] Shrike had lit a fire in the hall’s great hearth, and they had been sitting around it in a rare moment of camaraderie. Chime had even been less disagreeable than usual, and while Raust didn’t enjoy her presence, exactly, he at least found it tolerable. It was getting late, and he was about to excuse himself when the fae spoke up. “Raust,” she began, frills waving in thought. “Did the clan that built this place have a name? It seems like most of the ice clans do. The mirror packs, anyway. My old pack is called the Polar Night, there’s the Maulers, the Borealis, the Highland Pack...” “Oh! Yes, I believe so – I didn’t mention it earlier only because I’m not sure of the translation. It was something along the lines of sun-at-highest-night, which is maybe what you call—“ “Midnight Sun,” Shrike finished. “I like that.” “You know,” Chime drawled from beside the fire, where she was curled up like a cat, “we’re a mirror pack of sorts, albeit lacking in mirrors. Who’s to say we can’t have our own name?” The little dragon seemed to take to the idea. “We could be the Midnight Sun, again. I mean, without the constant war and all that.” Clementine sat up, looking curious. “What does that mean, ‘midnight sun’?” “Oh, Clem, I never told you! In the summer, it’s the opposite of the long night. We have a day that lasts for a whole month, where the sun never sets.” The room was dimly lit, but Raust didn’t need to see Shrike’s face to know she was smiling as she said it. “Oh, that sounds [i]wonderful,[/i]” the tundra replied dreamily. “You’ll love it. The snow melts on the tundra, and all the plants flower.” Clementine let out a hum of happiness as she pictured it. “I can’t wait.” “So it’s settled, then? That’s what we’ll call ourselves?” The little fae sounded serious as always, and Raust bit back a smile. [i]”Oui,”[/i] Chime confirmed. Shrike nodded, raising the bit of cooked insect she had like she was making a toast. “To the Midnight Sun.” And one by one, they all repeated it. Raust shivered in the quiet that followed, suddenly feeling very small in the cavernous room. It was a good name, and it was a pleasant feeling to have words that tied them all together. He had to admit, though, that there was something eerie about taking on the name of those who had disappeared without a trace, their lives swallowed up by the ice and, slowly but surely, forgotten.

@Cerastes oh wow... that last paragraph was really incredible :0