Creative Corner

Can I be added to your pinglist :0 That was an amazing read

@Maddiebird @skyeset @wakener @Adriel @Fuurin @Redwood @shadeofchaos @kryptica @Shade @ILUVDRAGONS

oof hi ive returned after 2 months. are any of you still interested in this story? it's okay if no. My motivation is at an all-time low but I could try to cobble something together. tbh i'd love to start over with a different storyline since i can't see where this one is going, but not if everyone's too invested in this one. lemme know your thoughts abt it if you have any

@KitchenSink
I still like the story, but ultimately if youre not that interested in continuing, id love to be pinged for your new one! i think maybe if you want to just cut the storyline, maybe have like one more lil chapter maybe ending the story.

in the end its your decsion tho (ofc) and i like your writing, so...... i can grow to like new characters.

@KitchenSink

I'm with you. If you want to start a new one, let me know. If you want to keep this going, let me know. Just do what feels good for you. No one enjoys a forced story.

[img]http://i.imgur.com/0o3rtTR.png[/img] [center][size=1]@Maddiebird @skyeset @wakener @Adriel @Fuurin @Redwood @shadeofchaos @kryptica @Shade @IanLeStraud @CheshireGrin14 @Aetherstorm[/size][/center] [right][font=book antiqua]Chapter Twelve Anise[/right] [font=Book Antiqua] Blair returned to find the spiral awake, sitting listlessly next to to fresh earth and strewn leaves where he had buried the hatchie. She didn’t look up as he approached; he was too quiet. He crouched down where he was and thought. Asking about Tiamat’s name was a simple act, in theory. Start a conversation, ask the right questions, say the right things, nod or laugh or frown in the right places, and then his curiosity would be satisfied. And he could leave. Though, something about the now-awake spiral’s eyes, glassy behind the half-moon spectacles, made him swallow his words. Blair knew without a doubt that he could mend any cut, stitch up any slice, mend any broken wing, and apply just the right soothing treatments to any dragon’s body. He was less sure of his ability to heal the heart. He had never much been in tune with own his feelings; anyone else’s were a total mystery to him. He walked up and brushed the spiral with a wingtip. Perhaps if he offered to travel with the spiral a bit more, then he would have more time to find out. That name, Tiamat; it was so familiar and yet so far away. He had to know. “I… her name. Tiamat. Where did it come from? Did ye name her or-” “I don’t want to talk about her.” “I only wanted to know the name. Where did it come from? It isn’t a common name, in the Woods.” “Aren’t you a healer?” spat the spiral. “You should know how to act when somebody’s just died.” “I’ve never had a patient die, not under my care at least. I learned from the best, y’see. I’ve experienced many deaths, of course, but that was when I was wee and small, in a clan. I never had to directly deal with the aftermath of death. There was… always somebody else, older or wiser, to comfort the grieving. I never had to, so I never learned how…” he trailed off, annoyed with himself at his uncharacteristic rambling. The death of a hatchie he should have saved, right under his claws, had unsettled him, he supposed. “So-” “I don’t want to talk about her,” hissed the spiral, with such viciousness that Blair felt it unwise to push further, lest he end up with a slash across his nose. “Maybe later.” Later. Blair guessed this meant that he was stuck hanging around with her until she felt like talking. He preferred to travel alone, but that name had intrigued him so… He considered, briefly, leaving the spiral and trying to seek out the source of the name elsewhere. He didn’t think that any common wanderer he might meet would be very knowledgeable about names; the closest place where he was likely to find educated dragons was the Forum of the Obscured Crescent. That was quite a ways away, directly back through the dangerous, beastie-infested areas. No, he decided, he would travel with the spiral and her bat-dragon. She would make acceptable company and, unless she was a very good actor, didn’t seem likely to stab him while he slept and make off with all his earthly possessions. “We need to leave,” he said. The spiral didn’t reply. “The smell of death will draw the beasties down on us. They’re likely already coming. Ye’ll end up just as dead as her.” “I don’t care.” “Don’t be ridiculous, worm dragon. Ye think she’d want that? And what about that lil red batty hatchie? Ye’d abandon yer responsibility to her to mope around and wait to be torn apart? She’d get eaten too, you know.” The mention of the bat-dragon seemed to stir the spiral. She sighed. “I know. I know. I need to take care of Red. And Hawilton. I have to go back for her.” “Who?” “Hawilton. I left her… back there. Hidden in caves, for safety. I need to go back for her.” She pointed with a wing back from where they came. “Back there? Back there it’s crawling with beasties! Snakes and harpies and worse! What did ye leave her there for?” “I… don’t know. I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I didn’t know if I could watch or protect her, Red, and T-tia all at once.” Blair sighed. “No use talking anymore about it. It’s done, even if it was dimwitted. Are ye sure this hatchie is… still alive? Is it worth the risk, you going back for a hatchie that might not even be-” “Of course she’s alive!” squeaked the spiral. “Don’t be silly! She can take care of herself.” “How old is this hatchie again?” “Oh… a few weeks, a month, I don’t know! It doesn’t matter! I’m going! And, if you want to travel with me, you’re going too.” “We’re both going to end up dead,” Blair grumbled. He really should just leave, he thought. This was a huge risk to take just for some information. He could find it elsewhere if he really tried… Still. Two hatchling and one adult. If he left them, he guessed, they would almost surely stumble into some obvious trap and be killed. Blair had no qualms about doing what he needed to do to save his own skin, but he preferred not to let dragons die who did not truly need to. It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to sneak past some snakes and harpies. “Okay. I’ll go back and get her, by myself. Tell me where she be hidden and I can find her and bring her to safety. Ye, stay here and watch this bat-dragon. In return, ye’ll be in my debt. Ye’ll me everything you know about that name, and no sneakin away. I can track ye down easily. I want to know about that name. Also, ye’ll owe me money.” He added quickly. “One hundred gold pieces. Don’t care if you don’t have it, as soon as you get it, it’s mine. I don’t risk my life for nothing.” The bat-dragon, who had been listening intensely, cackled. Blair frowned at it. It wasn’t natural, a hatchling that small seeming to understand speech. The spiral twitched her tail. “Fine. But I swear, if you try anything, or hurt her, or cheat me, I’ll kill you. Don’t smirk at me!” She added as Blair flicked in tongue in amusement. “I swear to the Shadowbinder I will, and on my exalted children.” Blair wasn’t superstitious, but he thought he could feel a deepening of the shadows and an extra chill in the mist when she said Shadowbinder. His amusement faded. “It’s a deal,” he said calmly, not showing his unease. She told him where the hatchie was hidden. He knew that place; he had sheltered in that cave several times before. It was a spooky place. The spiral hoisted the bat-dragon onto her shoulder and disappeared into the deep hollow. Blair turned and vanished silently into the mist, listening intently to the eerie cries of harpies in the distance. ~~~ When Blair heard the roar of water in the distance, he knew he could relax a bit. He had been progressing slowly, slithering under thorns and trees, freezing whenever he heard harpie screeches in the distance, his feathers sprinkled with anise oil to help hide his smell. He picked up the pace and followed the smell of cold water and moss. When he got there, he spread his wings and glided, owl-like, down into the gorge, landing lightly on a pebbly beach. The smells were blurred and muffled by the spray tossed up by the churning water, but he thought he could detect the smell of a coatl hatchling. He slipped through the crevice into the cave, guided by his memories of the place. Away from the heavy, swirling mist, in the still air of the cave, scents were easier to notice, especially for a coatl. He flicked his tongue, tasting the air; he could pick up the old trails of the coatl hatchie, the spiral, the dead guardian hatchie, and the bat-dragon, but also that of snakes. He wasn’t sure yet if they were still in the cave or not; he would have to be very careful. He crept forward a few steps at a time, cautious not to stumble over any loose stones, following the scent. ~~~ Hawilton was curled in a tiny, feathered ball, asleep, and Vieve, the watchful, invisible sentinel, sat over her and waited for her to wake up. Vieve sighed, considering all that had happened and all that was to happen. Blair, the coatl, was on his way to fetch Hawilton; she could sense that well enough. He was close, but she still stayed and watched over the hatchling. She couldn’t help but worry that if she left her side for even a moment, something terrible would happen. Ah, he comes. She could hear quiet footsteps in the dark, unmistakably coatl. “Help is here, dear one,” she thought. Blair touched Hawilton’s fur with a gentle paw, and she growled as she startled awake. “Hey, shut up, come here, hatchie,” he hissed. “Come on.” Hawilton growled and pressed herself against the floor. “Go with him, it’s safe. I will be right there beside you.” Vieve still didn’t know if Hawilton could still hear, but she whispered reassuring words in her ear anyway. Gradually, Hawilton relaxed and climbed onto Blair’s back. He gave a shudder of disgust; he clearly did not like young hatchlings. To Vieve’s relief, though, he allowed her to stay clinging there as he hurried back out the way he came. As Vieve followed, she gave a last glance to the dark, cave caves. As a place for communication between spirits such as herself and living dragons such as Hawilton, they weren’t too bad. There was certainly a something about them that made the veil between life and death thin and easily pierced. She wondered if perhaps Stick’s ghost was wandering somewhere down there, in the darkness. Did he find his way to the Shadowbinder? The old questions welled up in her (where was the shadowbinder? where were the ghosts of other dead dragons? why did she seem to be the only one left behind? when would she see her fallen clanmates again, if not in death?), but she squashed them down. She had to focus on the one little scrap of her clan that was still living- Hawilton. She followed Blair and Hawilton out of the caves and into the light. ~~~ “Tell me about her,” said Blair, as they lay at opposite ends of the hollow that night. Golden Moon sighed and petted Hawilton’s feathers. The coatl hatchling was soundly asleep, tired out and happy to be back with her Goldie. “Why? What do you want?” “Want? Why, I just happen to know it can be healing to talk about your deceased clanmate… theraputic, maybe…? Help you get through your loss...?” “I know you want something,” she said. “I don’t think you’re the kind to act all sweet for no reason. I’m a windy but I’m not some stupid airhead.” Blair spread his claws in a pacifying gesture. “Frankly, worm dragon, I’m offended… after I got yer little hatchie back and everything, you don’t trust me?” “I didn’t have a choice but to trust you,” she huffed. “Why can’t you leave us alone now? I got Hawilton, she’s safe. I’m going to take her and Red somewhere and find them a nice clan to live with. I’m not helpless, I can take care of two hatchlings.” “Mmhm. In case ye haven’t noticed, wormy, there’s some kind of fight on. Harpies and snakes and all kinds of beasties, all up in unrest. Any clan with under fifty fighting dragons is all flown away. Ye were lucky they didn’t get you too. Ye are all as good as dead if I leave ye here.” He sounded positively pleased about it. “Well… if you would be willing to help us, I’d be really happy about that,” said Golden Moon hesitantly. “You want me to tell you why I named her Tia?” “Yes. That’s all, really. Quite a good bargain. And the gold, of course, for fetching that hatchie back. Dangerous work like that costs extra.” “Right, the gold.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re horrible.” “Thank you,” he said pleasantly. “Now look. I know ye don’t want to talk about her. I understand. Ye don’t have to tell me now. Just soon.” “No, no. It’s okay, I’ll tell you now. It was her eyes, her water eyes, from the sea, you know? Tiamat… was one of those…. other goddesses, that dragons made up. Not the Eleven. You know. Just made up. Hatchling stories. She was… a creature of the sea. She was created from the sea and brought forth life from it. There was a phrase in her story, that sounded really cool, that stuck in my head. Primordial sea…” “The monstrous embodiment of primordial chaos?” said Blair from memory. Golden Moon stared at him. “Oh..” he said quietly. “That’s where I know that name. That’s where. My mother told me that story when I was a wee thing. I remember now.” He laughed. “I remember the whole story now! What in Sornieth possessed ye to name a wee baby hatchie after a saltwater serpent of primordial seas whose slain body created the heavens?” “I don’t know,” she sighed. “She was just a clumsy little dragon, but she just seemed regal, inside. Like she could grow up to be something like the Tiamat in stories… huge and heavenly. She never will now, I guess.” “Huge and heavenly, she,” parroted Red. “Go to sleep, Red,” huffed Golden Moon. “Nice clan to live with?” inquired Red. Oh. Yes. Golden Moon had forgotten that the hatchlings didn’t know that she was going to leave them behind. Not just drop them outside a cave and run, of course, she’d make sure they were wanted and would be cared for and loved. A newly mated pair and their hatchlings, perhaps, just started out to build their own clan, who’d welcome a few young strong newcomers in. “I can’t take care of you and Hawilton forever by myself, Red,” Golden Moon said. “Dragons need a clan to take care of them. I’ll find you a lovely clan, with lots of other dragons to play with.” Red seemed satisfied by this answer, or maybe she was just tired, for she made a small humming sound and curled up to sleep next to Hawilton. Blair looked distasteful. “Ye think it can understand you? It doesn’t even talk by itself yet. Just mimic bits of words.” “Of course she can! She asked me clear as open sky, didn’t she?” “She imitated yer words. Not the same. Just bat babble. I don’t trust that type. Some say they’re not really dragons but some other creature.” Golden Moon rolled her eyes at him and laid her head down, placing a wing protectively over her small brood. She certainly trusted Red a lot more than she trusted him. She yawned, purposefully displaying her sharp rows of teeth. “Oh, do calm down,” snorted Blair, getting the message. “Tell me one more thing before ye drift off. Why won’t you bring them back to yer own clan and keep them there? Not cut out to be a mother?” His mouth snapped shut as he remembered. “Oh-” “I mothered three hatchlings just fine by myself, thank you very much,” snapped Golden Moon. “Exalted, all of them. As I said before. That’s my clan for you. Devotional to a fault. Sending every young dragon worth their scales up there. There’s hardly enough dragons to run a clan left. I bring these two home, they’ll go straight up to the Cloudsong in under a month. I don’t want Hawilton and Red to be stuck serving a god they weren’t born under.” “Ah, one of those clans…” mused Blair. “Servant farms. Why are you returning, then?” “I have to be exalted. To see them again, my hatchlings and mate. They’re all with the Windsinger, so that’s where I must go, too,” she sighed. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You really haven’t done anything but help me out.” “It’s understandable,” purred Blair. “I didn’t intend to get mixed up in these woods,” she continued in spite of herself. “I just had to deliver a glowing mouse to a clan in need. A glowing mouse. That was my final task, my final deed in this world, a mouse.” “These woods do have a way of tangling you up and tripping you, don’t they?” Blair remarked. “Yes.” Golden Moon looked down at the sleeping babies. “It’s not that bad, though. I’m happy I was able to help these hatchlings. I dunno what would have happened to them if I hadn’t found them.” She gazed at them for a while as they slept. “I wonder what ever happened to that mouse? I lost track of it, sometime over the past few days.” “Oh, I ate it.” Golden Moon stared. “I’m kidding! Ha, ye should see yer face,” wheezed Blair. “No, no, I’m sure it’s fine. This is their natural habitat, ye know. Better it goes off and lives with its own kind in the wild than stays in a clan to be prodded and poked by hatchies.” “I guess so.” She laid her head down, her tail coiling around the sleeping hatchlings. “Thank you, again. I don’t know what I would do if our paths hadn’t crossed. You’re kind.” “What’s that?” “You’re kind.” Blair snorted. “In the morning we’ll get out of here,” he said finally. "Then we'll part ways. I'll watch, and wake ye in a few hours." Golden Moon hummed in acknowledgment and closed her eyes. ~~ Vieve watched Blair as he stood watch. Even his sensitive coatl nose could not pick out her scent. She studied him. A sharp and angular face, but clearly well fed. He lived a clanless life, she could tell, where he only provided for himself, yet unlike many other clanless dragons, he provided very well. That was impressive, surely. She had watched him move through the woods by himself; he was masterful. An artist of stealth. Watching him move was like hearing a song. So was watching him delicately stitch up the wounds left on Tia's body by the snake's weapons. She didn't quite trust him, though. Something about him was off. He was too greedy, too insensitive, too... something. Too smart. She never liked a dragon that was too smart. If she touched his feathers, she had the strongest conviction they would feel oily and smell faintly of blood, of past sins. Yet he was probably the best possible companion Golden Moon could have in this situation. He was smart, he knew the woods like he knew his own wings, and he could fight and heal. And, as far as Vieve could tell, he was genuinely willing to help Golden Moon and the hatchlings out of a very sticky situation. Was he truly [i]kind[/i], though? They would find out his true colors soon enough. He struck her as someone who, despite being physically an adult, was still growing up inside. He existed in shades of stormy gray, mixed of both kindness and cruelty; he was capable of embracing either side. Blair and Vieve both stared silently out into the darkness, for hours, until he stretched luxuriously, feathers quivering, then gently tapped Golden Moon. She awoke, swept a warm blanket of pine needles over the hatchlings, then climbed fluidly up a tree to watch. Vieve had no such mortal need for rest. She stayed put, still as a statue, and turned her gaze to the stars. [/font][i](it's been a while yall.... i've reached levels of procrastination i didn't think were possible It was fun coming back to their story after so long. I think I will be continuing it but don't expect anything amazing qwq)[/i]