Creative Corner

@windsway - Aww, thank you! I spent some time deliberating over that so I'm glad it came out all right!

@Wolcan - Thanks! Raust is an interesting character for sure, I promise you'll get to know more about him :)

@Tempestuous - Hmm, wonder what gives you that feeling... >.>

@tigressRising, @ArgenteaMoon - Aha! We will see! And yes, it seems like they may not have quite thought that name thing through...

@WillowWhisper - Thanks, that's really nice of you to say! :) I'm so glad you passed him on to me!

@Soleil - I'm glad, that's what I was going for! Pacing is definitely something I'm trying to get better at.

@AnnaStar353 - Added, thanks for the interest!

Haven't forgotten this, I promise! I'm working on the next chapter and will hopefully have it up sometime this weekend - it's on the longer side so I'm taking my time. I'm also working on (finally) putting up bios for these guys. Well, less bios and more writing snippets of a somewhat different style.

[center] :| :| :| :| Hoo boy. This got very long - sorry! [b]Oh My Darling[/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 @AnnaStar353 [/center] It had been two weeks, and Clementine was missing the sun. Last night, she’d dreamt of flying through summer. Something she’d never seen herself, but in the dream it was visceral, vivid. Warm sun on her wings and blue sky above, and below her green, green, green where the ice had finally lost its foothold. The joy faded very quickly, though, when Shrike nudged her awake (“C’mon, there’s hunting to do!”). It wasn’t that the little dragon didn’t care about Clementine’s lack of energy – more like she just didn’t notice. Not that Clementine blamed her. Shrike had thrown herself into making the lair a home with a peculiar kind of intensity – if she wasn’t out hunting, she was building, fixing, exploring, clearing away rocks to explore deeper and deeper into the tunnels. Chime helped – at times – and at others she was nowhere to be found. Raust mostly stuck to himself, and had been spending a lot of time in the temple they’d found. He’d asked her to meet him there today, actually, with an air of mysteriousness she’d come to expect of him. She had no idea what he wanted to talk to her about, but she was curious, so she followed the meandering tunnels down to the grand room. Raust wasn’t there when she arrived, but she went in anyway, wandering among the ruined pews. This place always gave her a sense of humbling smallness, with its soaring ceiling and austere carvings. The Flamecaller in particular made her hackles rise, and yet whenever she came here, she found herself drawn to it. She was busy studying the engraving’s carefully made flames when a sound behind her made her jump. “Oh, sorry!” Raust called out as he made his way over to her. “Didn’t see you! Here, I’ve got something that might be of interest to you.” He rummaged around in the pockets of his cloak, eventually pulling out a familiar cloth-wrapped object: small, round, emitting a soft glow that glinted off his iridescent feathers. “Is that the egg?” “Indeed. As a fellow natureborn, I thought you might be appreciative...” As he spoke, he was gently unwinding the layers of cloth around the egg, stopping when the light was almost – but not quite – too bright to look at. “Most dragons need sunlight, in some form or another. Shadow dragons don’t. Ice dragons need very little. But those who are born under the Gladekeeper need quite a bit more of it; we’re like plants in that respect. I’ve been feeling the lack of sunlight, and I assume you have been too.” Clementine nodded, entranced by the calming light. It had only been a few minutes, but already she was feeling lighter and happier. “So, the egg...it’s like sunlight?” The priest nodded. “In a manner of speaking. I’ve had this egg with me for quite a while – I learned this trick when I studied for some time at the Forum of the Obscured Crescent. Not much natural light there. You’re welcome to come by here and spend some time with it if the long night starts to get to you. Provided I’m here, of course; I’d rather no one else handle it.” “Of course,” Clementine agreed readily, touched by the offer. Her mood was quickly lifting – she’d forgotten what that felt like. “So, the Obscured Crescent...that’s in the shadowborn lands?” “The Tangled Wood, yes. To become part of the order, as I am, one must spend time at each territory’s core – close to the gods. This allows us to celebrate each divinity equally, which is of course the one true way.” “Mmhmm,” Clementine agreed vaguely, mystified. They sat quiet for a while before Raust packed the egg back up and told her politely to come back anytime. It was a little sad to see the glow fade little by little with each layer of cloth, leaving them in the winter cavern again, with only candles to light the space. She had to admit, though, that her spirits had lifted considerably. Maybe she’d go find Shrike, and badger [i]her[/i] to go out hunting. [center][img] http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif [/img][/center] The egg’s effects started to fade after a disappointingly short amount of time; Clementine was feeling sluggish and irritable just a day later. Which was how she found herself wandering down to the temple the next night, unable to sleep, in hopes of finding the skydancer. It was getting late, but as she approached the archway leading into the cavernous space, she could still see the lambent glow of candelight. She was about to enter, but upon hearing voices up ahead, paused for a moment. “Given that you were indeed changed into a fae,” came Raust’s droning voice, “I’d say the possibility is quite high.” “That’s not enough.” Shrike, in a frustrated hiss. “I need to know more. Raust, if there’s—“ She broke off abruptly, as she finally noticed Clementine hovering in the doorway; Raust’s head snapped up toward her as well. They looked apprehensive, as if she’d interrupted something delicate. “Hello,” the priest said eventually. “I’m afraid it’s quite late. I’m off to bed.” Without another word, he alighted, gliding from rafter to rafter until he reached the study he slept in. Shrike’s frills were flickering with something Clementine couldn’t identify. “Well, he’s right. It is late. I think I’ll—“ “Wait,” Clementine interrupted. “Can I talk to you? I just feel like there are a lot of things you haven’t been telling me.” The words were coming out in a rush, and she was taken aback at herself. “I just...I thought we were friends. What’s going on? Why does he call you a fae? You said you were a mirror?” Shrike flinched, the ripple of her frills increasing in speed. “Well, I. Ah. I am technically a fae. I used to be a mirror – I got changed into this before I found your egg.” Clementine stared at her. [i]Changed? How was that possible?[/i] “How come you never told me?” The little dragon picked at her leg bandages. “There’s...it’s...it’s a lot going on, Clem. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” The tundra could feel her irritable lethargy growing into something else – something hot, like the embers that dotted the lands of the fireborn. “What do you mean, a lot going on?” But Shrike was waving her away, turning to walk down the temple’s aisle. “We can talk about this later. It’s late.” The smaller dragon’s voice was taut, and it invited no further talk. Clementine stayed where she was, watching her go. She knew this anger wasn’t her, really, and yet...didn’t she deserve to know? ‘Later’ turned out to be the following afternoon. Clementine had just dragged herself out of bed to go for yet another hunt – a nasty storm was brewing outside, and Shrike wanted to bring as much food in as possible before they got snowed in. Her hunting partners weren’t at their normal meeting place...nor were they in the great hall, or the kitchens, or the stockrooms. Clementine could feel the scowl deepening on her face as she wandered [i](really, Shrike? You made me get up for this?).[/i] Finally, she spotted the spiral’s flicking tail hanging down from the guards’ barracks, and flew up to meet her and Shrike. “We need to speak in more detail about that note, I believe,” the spiral was saying. “I know you would prefer not to, but it’s—“ Noticing the tundra, the spiral cut off and smoothly switched conversation. “And, yes, I just can’t wait to go out in this deplorable weather. Are you excited as well, Clem?” Clementine wasn’t having it. “Shrike, what note was she talking about?” The spiral rippled backwards, her green eyes widening a fraction as she glanced from Shrike to Clementine. “Well. I’ll meet you two outside, I think.” She elegantly alighted and was gone, leaving the two of them alone. The mirror – the fae? – didn’t offer any conversation, so Clementine repeated herself. “What note? Does this have something to do with me getting kidnapped?” “Oh. No. It’s...it just has to do with my old pack, and what happened to me. Don’t worry about it.” “But I do.” Why was Shrike so insistent on treating her like a child? “It’s too dangerous, Clem. And too complicated. I don’t want to get you tangled up in it, yeah? Can’t you just trust me?” “Oh, trust you? Okay. Remember when you told me you wanted to dump me with one of the tundra herds?” Clementine was half-appalled at herself, but couldn’t stop the words from falling. [i]This isn’t me! Why am I saying these things?[/i] “Maybe this would all be simpler if I had,” Shrike snapped, and then immediately looked like she regretted it. “I don’t mean that, I—“ “Maybe it would have,” Clementine replied, letting her hurt at the statement get the better of her. “Look, you guys can go hunting without me. I’m going to go find someone who will actually tell me what’s going on.” “Good luck with that.” Icy, the little dragon turned on her heel, snapping her wings open to take off. Clementine watched her go, unable to extinguish the little seeds of anger burning in her chest. Shrike probably thought her words were empty, but she’d meant it. How could she keep her friends safe if she didn't know what was wrong? If Shrike wouldn’t tell her anything, maybe her old pack would. Clementine was going to find the Polar Night, and she was going to do it alone. [center][img] http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif [/img][/center] [i]Food, water, some bedding, a firestarter, a couple health potions...is there anything else I need?[/i] Clementine paused, fiddling with the rim of the half-full pack in thought. There was one more thing she wanted to take, but it felt a little like stealing, and that was wrong. [i]Surely he’d be fine without it for a few days, though, and I’ll bring it right back.[/i] She needed to be awake and alert if she wanted to track down the mirrors, and that would be hard without a little sunlight. Mind made up – although with a vague pit of guilt in her stomach – she made her way to the temple for one last stop. Raust was usually napping at this time in the afternoon, so hopefully she’d be able to get in and out without him even waking up. Sleight of hand, just like Chime had taught her. She kept quiet as she entered the temple, clambering up the careening oak beams toward his study. It was dark inside the little alcove, and in the shadows she could hear the even breathing of a sleeping dragon. [i]Okay,[/i] she mused as she perched at the edge of the study. [i]If I were an egg...[/i] She poked around a little – very carefully – and found the well-wrapped package tucked away on the desk. It rolled a little as she tried to pick it up, but Raust didn’t stir, so she gathered the egg up and placed it gently in her pack. Good. Gliding back down to the floor, she quickly made her way towards the armory entrance, and then out onto the cold tundra. Outside, the wind was picking up, clawing at her fur and sending it billowing around her. It was going to be a bad storm, and all the better – Shrike wouldn’t be able to follow her for several days. That should be plenty of time to find the pack; how big could the Icefield be, really? Clementine bowed her head against the wind and began walking southward. She was small out here – the gusts swept away her footprints as she went, instantly erasing the snow’s memory of her. Whiteness before her and whiteness behind, and as the storm began to pick up she was soon swathed in a cocoon of swirling snow. A part of her wondered, belatedly, if she should have sought out some shelter. A little too late for that now – she could barely see a foot in front of her face, let alone any kind of cave or overhang to protect her from the elements. Which is why, when she almost walked right into a stone wall, she wondered if Raust’s gods were indeed smiling on her. It was a structure, a kind she’d never seen before – circular and tall, backed up against some rocky cliffs. It was crumbling and seemed ancient, but at this point anything was better than getting buried in the snow. There was a battered old door that she easily shouldered down. The doorway wasn’t sized quite right for her (or for any dragon, really, it was too tall and narrow) but she squeezed through anyway, picking her way up the ruinous set of stairs she found inside. They spiraled tightly upwards, opening into a low-ceilinged room, devoid of furniture. Wind whistled through holes in the masonry, so Clementine headed for a door on her left, entering what must have one point been a closet. This was good. It was quiet in here, and safe. That is, until she heard the unmistakable murmur of dragon voices from the floor below. Clementine waited, debating whether or not to call out. Best not, she decided. Better to give it a moment and figure out what manner of dragons these were first. She stood stock-still inside her hiding place, trying to keep her breathing less than a whisper. With any luck, they wouldn’t even come near her. “You’re really ssure that you ssaw them?” Maybe no such luck; the voices were getting louder, forming into words: deep, male, sibilant. As she stood frozen, ears perked and hardly daring to breathe, she heard the distinctive click of claws on stone. “Of course I’m sure. What kind of mirror would I be if I couldn’t hunt?” The second voice had a growling, animalistic quality to it that sent chills down her spine. Despite her fear, there was a part of her that sharpened in interest. [i]A mirror?[/i] There was a lull in the conversation, and then two dragons came into view through the crack in the door. Clementine shrank back involuntarily. They were big, powerful creatures, with iron-like cords of muscle standing stark beneath scarred hides – one orange, one tan with wings like dried blood. There was something distinctly predatory about them, and they had the wrong number of eyes, like spiders. An image of Shrike passed through Clementine’s head, and she felt dizzy – was this really the little dragon’s true form? They looked wolfish, feral, like a not-quite tame animal that could turn on you in a flash. “You think we’re getting closse, then?” the orange one was saying, arching his back into a feline stretch. He yawned, and Clementine caught a glimpse of glittering white teeth. “I do. I was too far away yesterday to follow – they’d disappeared by the time I caught up. This part of the tundra is riddled with caves, so I expect they’re holing up here somewhere. They will be found.” The tan dragon was smaller than the other, but he held himself with a dangerous stillness that put Clementine on edge. “Good. It’ss only a manner of time, then.” “Indeed.” The tan dragon was beginning to pace the small room as the wind howled outside. “Shrike escaped from us once – she will not do so again.” At the sound of her friend’s name, she jerked in surprise, and the bundled egg slipped out of her grasp, hitting the floorboards with a traitorous thud. [i]I didn’t mean to,[/i] Clementine would say over and over when Chime found her, later. [i]I didn’t mean to drop it. It was an accident. I promise.[/i] She watched it roll away into a corner, her stomach dropping horribly. It all seemed to happen in slow motion – the rolling egg, the sinuous necks of the mirrors whipping around towards her hiding place. “Temper?” the tan one hissed. “What was that?” The orange dragon seemed to fix her in his flat white eyes, and a slow smile spread across his face. Clementine felt as though she’d been dropped into the sea, sinking into the frigid water as the floes closed her off from the sky above. “I think,” the mirror said in what was almost a purr, “that we are not alone.” He took a step toward her, then another, and his claws were knives against the floor. [center][img] http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif[/img][/center] Shrike was shouting something unintelligible over the storm. “What?” Chime shouted back, trying to shield her eyes against the slivers of ice being blown at a nearly horizontal angle. What an awful, awful place this was. “I SAID,” Shrike repeated, clearing trying to project her tiny voice as far as it would go, “WE’LL HAVE TO SPLIT UP. I CAN’T TRACK IN THIS. DON’T GET LOST!” Chime nodded in affirmation, and beside her Raust did the same. His cloak was billowing up around him, and he stood hunched against the wind with a sort of miserable staunchness. “DON’T GET LOST!” Shrike said again, alighting to battle the storm. “MEET BACK HERE IN AN HOUR IF YOU DON’T FIND HER!” She zipped off, heading vaguely northward. In this winter, her maneuverable wings were an advantage. Raust stuck to the ground, trotting off southward. Chime watched them both go before turning to peer into the whiteness. How, exactly, were they supposed to find anything in this? Or even their own way back? [i]Nothing for it,[/i] Chime decided grimly before taking to the air, flying off in a more or less random direction. It was impossible to see anything – even her own tail was hidden from her in this swirling whiteness when she turned back to look. “Clementine?” she called out into the pale void, not expecting a reply. “Windsinger help me,” she muttered to herself, glad Raust wasn’t around to hear her calling out for divine assistance. “Clementine?” She continued on in this way for an indeterminable amount of time, hugging the ground, scanning ahead of her whenever the snow briefly cleared. She hoped beyond hope for a glimpse of gold, but all she saw was white and gray. Awful. After all of this business was over, she wasn’t setting foot in the Icefield ever again. There was a flash of something ahead that was neither snow nor rock, and she pulled up, wondering if she’d somehow circled back. “Shrike, is that you?” A familiar cawing sounded over the wind, and the dark shape began to materialize into something dark and feathered. “You know,” she shouted to it, almost laughing in a giddy rush of hope. “I never liked birds! Very loud! And messy, [i]oui?”[/i] The storm seeker let out another caw – reproachful? – and she had to duck her head as it dive-bombed her. “Quit that, [i]coquin![/i] Go find Clementine! Go!” The bird circled around her once, and then dipped its wings and nearly disappeared into the driving snow. Chime had to perform aerial acrobatics to keep up – the creature was in its element, its long wings seeking out invisible currents, arcing under the bellies of gusts. Several times she thought she’d lost it, but then she’d catch a glimpse of black feathers again. She was so focused on keeping track of the bird that she nearly slammed into the ruined tower. Curling her body away at the last minute, she snaked along the wall, grateful for the scrap of protection it offered against the wind. Ahead of her, the bird disappeared through the remains of a window, and she squeezed through after it. Inside, it was dim, and she had to shake her head to adjust to the sudden quiet. The wind still sang behind her, but between these stone walls she felt removed. Cloistered. The storm seeker seemed agitated, flying a short way up a set of crumbling stone stairs, then flying back, hurrying back and forth until she followed. The staircase curled its way up to a dimly light room, which she entered with a distinct sense of unease. This was a strange place – something wrong about the way the rocks were cut, the way the angles fit together. Something ancient and unfamiliar. The bird was in a state she hadn’t seen it in before – it hopped from one foot to another, feathers puffed up as if it couldn’t get warm. Chime was about to inspect the room a little more closely when a muffled groan sounded from the door to her left. Heart in her throat, she edged her way over to it and threw it open, claws up and ready to slash at whatever jumped out at her. The sight that greeted her, though, was worse than any monster. [center][img] http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif [/img][/center] It didn’t hurt, and that struck Clementine as odd, but she wasn’t about to complain. The mirrors had long since departed, and without them it was calm and quiet. Peaceful, really. Something told her that she should try to get out of this closet, go find the others – she had something important to tell them, she thought – but she wasn’t too keen on moving. A sleepiness was settling over her, and the flagstones beneath her felt curiously comfortable. She’d just rest, just for a little bit. Then she’d try to find them. A rustling sound woke her back into wakefulness, and she shifted her head to see her storm seeker pattering its way over to her. Hello! she told it with a rush of warmth, but there was something strange about her words – she wasn’t sure they left her mouth. Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. The little creature seemed distressed, nudging at her side with its beak. Hey, she tried to say, go find the others, okay? It must have understand her at some level or another, because it flew away after staring beadily at her for a moment. Clementine found that she missed it – it was nice not to be alone. [i]Will Shrike even want to come find me?[/i] she wondered with a pang, suddenly remembering their last conversation. [i]I don’t blame her if she doesn’t. I was being so stupid.[/i] Time was starting to stretch and warp, and Clementine wasn’t sure how long she drifted in and out of awareness before someone was shaking her awake. That [i]did[/i] hurt, and she let out an involuntary squeak. “Sorry, sorry!” came a familiar voice from above, in an unfamiliar tone of panic. “Oh, [i]mon amie...”[/i] Clementine opened her eyes, the act seeming to take more willpower than usual. Chime? she asked. Or she thought she asked. It was hard to tell. The spiral had a grip on her shoulders, and her coils writhed about with some kind of unconscious, frantic energy. Clementine peered at her in surprise – she’d never seen the thief like this, even after her concussion. This was Chime without her mask, without reservation, with fear etched into every scale. Clementine started to feel bad, because that was her fault. It’s okay, she told the looming dragon. It’s okay. Don’t worry. Chime was speaking. “Shh, no, no don’t try to get up. Just stay still. You are going to be all right, [i]oui?”[/i] Of course – that sounded good. She was [i]really[/i] tired though. Maybe Chime would just let her sleep for a while. “Hey!” said the spiral as Clementine’s eyelids started to droop again, gently shaking her. “Stay with me, Clem. You have to stay awake, all right?” Okay, Clementine replied, and then kept talking, because it felt important. I didn’t mean to, Chime, she told her. I didn’t mean to drop it. It was an accident. I promise. I didn’t mean to. Her words petered off; talking hurt, but she had to let Chime know. “Shh, don’t worry about that,” the spiral hummed. “Just focus on me.” Clementine tried. That was hard to do, though. The biggest tree in the world, she felt herself saying. That’s what Shrike said. I never got to see the Viridian Labyrinth, Chime. It’s green, right? All green. Not like here. There’s too much gray here. Too much gray in me. She felt the spiral’s arms tighten around her, but from a distance, as if it were happening to someone else. “Oh, Clementine. It’s very jungly there, you know? You’re not missing much. Besides, you’ve got all the time in the world to see it, right?” Maybe that was true, but the world didn’t feel like it had much time in it. Those kinds of things were unraveling around the edges, spilling out. She must have shook her head, because she heard Chime let out a breath, sharp and pained. “Clem? If that’s where you’d like to go, that’s where the Gladekeeper will get you. The gods look after their own, [i]chérie.”[/i] Okay, said Clementine. Some of the tension was going out of her body, and she snuggled back into the spiral. There was something else, though. Something important. Chime! I have to warn her. Have to warn Shrike. “Warn Shrike about what?” A pause. “Clementine? Stay awake. Stay with me.” And Clementine wanted to. She did. But here, there was sunlight, the smell of pollen. And off in the distance, she could have sworn she heard music... [center][img] http://i68.tinypic.com/11lotj8.png [/img] Oh, that was rough. Sorry Clem. Lost in a critical hit from a Serthis Alchemist. Truly, a precious cinnamon roll, too good for this world.[/center]