Generation 2 - The Healer
Pointed, rigid frills stood on end as ZeroHour glowered down at her son - her only son now.
“You were reckless.” she hissed, pulling her wings taut, her claws close so that she did not hit him herself.
Assiel bowed his head, crouching barely above the ground. His eyes fell to the floor as hers tore through him. She was far smaller than him, but her anger and grief stabbed him like a knife. He on the other hand, felt empty. His anger and lust for revenge left a hollow pit in his stomach. Tension hung in the air with each pause, and he did not know how long ago his father had left to find a healer for Corinthia without a word.
“Watching you go once was hardly bearable, but again? Why did you go back for more?”
Why? She had asked him that question many times. He wondered if he had asked himself that question more, or even enough times.
“Assiel.” she hissed again, hovering down to meet his gaze mere inches away. “You should have known that you were not strong enough.”
He scraped the ground under him, dragging claws across the dirt until they clinked against his sister’s pearl. He stiffly nodded. The dim, rusty glimmer underneath him drew his gaze away from his mother’s.
She left him be for a time, storming out of their home. The two remained apart for days until Quentrell’s return. When he returned, another dragon carefully entered. A lithe dragoness smaller than Assiel, but with a gaze sharp enough to freeze both himself and ZeroHour in place. The tension simmered. The Skydancer, darker than either of the two and garbed in tattered pieces, merely tilted her head with more precision than could be innocent.
Both members of the broken family started when Quentrell joined them, glancing between all three figures with a withheld sigh.
“Zero, Assiel.” he nodded. “This is Roche. She is a healer, have her look at Corinthia.”
“Does she speak?” Assiel asked, staying close to his ever sleeping sister.
“Yes.” Roche answered in a low, drawn out voice.
Even so, Assiel hardly relieved his position over Corinthia. The only sound was the occasional hollow chime of the bones that lined Roche’s form. Herbs, bones, and cobwebs all discolored much like the dragon donning them lined most of her body. Even ZeroHour ceased her flitting about to watch the stranger in silence. The time seemed agonizing for all but she, who after a long time of being drawn over the Fae, retracted herself from the limp form to speak.
“Her shoulder and the bones connecting to it are broken, but how did she come to this condition? Has she woken since?” Roche asked with a gesture, a frown in her voice but not her expression.
“Marlais said they were attacked by Mirrors, did they hurt her?” ZeroHour looked to the others, confusedly waving her frills.
“I don’t remember.” Quentrell murmured, shaking his head.
“He didn’t say much. Mirrors attacked them, that was it. I think they got into fights with other creatures, based on what little else he brought back.” Assiel said.
“That is odd.” Roche gently traced a claw along Corinthia’s still body.
“What is?” Quentrell asked quickly, even almost harshly.
“This magic is odd.” Roche looked to the three, noticing and feeling a lack of understanding from them. They did not know. “Magic lingers on her, locking her in this state. She will not wake, nor dream. You could consider it sleep. She will deteriorate and decay, if this affliction is not resolved.”
“You’re saying she is sick?” ZeroHour tilted her head, a gesture not natural in Fae communication as Roche noted.
“Not sick. Cursed. Someone did this to her, and they must either lift it or be killed to force it to lift, I suppose.” Roche shrugged at the second option, looking out one of their windows dully.
Not waiting for them to understand, nor caring if they did, Roche continued, “I can set her bones, but you must either find the dragon responsible now, or give me what I need to sustain her until you can. You don’t have the medical equipment to treat her. She will die without it.”
A sickened silence fell on them. Roche looked on, folding her arms as even a wind that had raged on outside died.
“What do you need?” Assiel asked quietly.
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Justdevon
Apologies for the delay, here's Breaking Point's next update. As you might guess, Roche is Assiel's mate to be. What do you think of her? Next chapter coming along shortly.
To address the challenge more broadly, once I get caught up on updating on what happened during the pause, normal update times will resume. About a chapter a week can be expected, likely posted on a Friday/Saturday/Sunday. Life got busy, but it's relatively settled now.
Otherwise, if you have thoughts on how Breaking Point is going (or theories for how it will go), let me know! I think I'll get caught up on the other challenges I've been following, as I work on more.