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[font=Calibri][size=4]Ruffle rotated the last egg of the nest carefully, giving it a small pat and a sad smile as she laid it down next to the other two. She sprinkled a bit water over the eggs, said a small blessing, and left the nest in the hands of the Gladekeeper, who she hoped was watching over the unborn hatchlings’ parents as well.
The world was turning from the monochrome of predawn light to the warm hues of sunrise as Ruffle joined her mate on the second story of the pavilion, on a grand balcony made of branches guided to grow into a smooth floor decorated with vines and flowers, where they could manage the business part of the hatchery while monitoring the nests and hatchlings from above. Trouble had his head propped on a paw as he looked over some ledgers with half-closed eyes, failing in his attempt to hide a yawn. He had never been a morning dragon, and preferred to pull the covers back over his head until Ruffle threaten to magic icicles into his fur that she wouldn’t let melt for days. That usually convinced him.
“Still no sign of Ajax and Lura?” Trouble asked, rubbing his eyes as Ruffle greeted him with a gentle nudge.
She shook her head and took over checking the ledgers. “Their dens are empty and most of their belongings were gone as well. It looks like they decided to nest and run.”
“Well, we’ve had it happen before.”
“Not necessarily in these circumstances, but at least we know that these hatchlings will grow up with our loving touch.”
Trouble grimaced. “Until they fight for their lives in the Coliseum,” he said, his voice cracking as he put his head back in his paws.
Ruffle resisted the urge to roll her eyes and nuzzled her distraught mate instead. Personally, she didn’t think that sending the losing dragons to the Eleven was punishment at all, especially since they were given the choice to be leave Mist Meadow instead. She thought it would be an honor to serve her deity someday and return to her land of ice and rock once she and Trouble had grown old and weary and ready to rest. She hoped Trouble would go with her to the Southern Icefield too, but she would understand if he wanted to be exalted in the Viridian Labyrinth instead. Although she was sure he would resist being exalted until there was no other choice.
She pulled his paws from his face and gave him a quick kiss. “There is nothing better for a dragon, young or old, feeble or fierce,” she said, pulling back to look Trouble in the eyes, “than finding a place to serve alongside the Eleven. These hatchlings’ time on Sornieth may be short, but they are living their best lives as exalted dragons. I think Borque’s plan is unnecessary and strange, just like you, but we can take comfort in the fact that these hatchlings will serve our deities in comfort someday.”
Rubbing the worry lines from his forehead, Ruffle kissed him once more and sat down to continue working. Trouble let his mate take his place and shook his great mane as if to clear his head.
He put on his silks and excused himself to begin some repairs on the hatchling dens on the lower level. Upon reaching the ground, the tundra nearly ran right into Iemyria, who was standing over Ajax and Lura’s nest, her face disturbingly blank.
“Iemyria, how are you?” he said, surprised to see her up this early.
“I’m well, Trouble, thank you.” She shifted her heavy wings impatiently and cocked her head. “No sign of the missing pair, I take it?”
“I haven’t heard anything since we found their empty dens several days ago. Claws has scouts and search parties combing the Labyrinth, but nobody has turned up with anything yet.”
“But they left a nest,” she said, frowning at the eggs basking in the sun before her. “They nested and wandered away? How strange.” She knelt down and tenderly stroked the leaves sprouting from one of the eggs. “I doubt they’ll ever come back. Those two never wanted to be parents. They never wanted to be a part of this clan.”
Trouble shrugged his shoulders and offered a paw to help Iemyria back up. He doubted she would hurt the nest, but Borque’s strange behavior of late could’ve set a precedent with the skydancer that he didn’t want to test. “Your guess is as good as mine, my dear. Would you like a cup of hot chocolate? Ruffle always has some ready upstairs.”
Iemyria smiled, looking like herself for the first time that morning. “Of course, thank you, Trouble.” She followed him to the back of the pavilion, her wings swishing behind her like the sashay of a dress.
“Iemyria, wait!” came a yell from the entrance of the pavilion. Trouble and Iemyria stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking at the incoming skydancer in surprise. Neither of them had ever seen Charm in such disarray, with all of her silks fluttering in her haste like flags in the wind, but they certainly recognized the look of excitement on her face as she hurried up to them.
“You’ll never guess what Borque is doing now,” she said, panting slightly as she reached the others. Without waiting for them to respond, she went on. “He’s not only taking sleeping potions, but I think Mystic the alchemist has been making him [i]special[/i] potions for Plaguebringer knows what!”
Iemyria raised the frills on either side of her head and squinted at Charm in doubt. This was not news Iemyria wanted to hear or let spread among other clan members. “So?” she said, smoothing back her feathers and linking arms with the other skydancer. “So he’s visiting the alchemist. There’s really no harm in that--”
“But it’s [i]strange[/i],” Charm interrupted, letting herself be led upstairs to the balcony. “Everything he does should be considered suspicious and worth scrutinizing. Your own words, Iya!”
Iemyria patted the dragoness’s arm reassuringly. “Well, let’s discuss this over some breakfast. I’m sure Trouble and Ruffle would like to weigh in on this too.”
They reached the top and exchanged pleasantries with Ruffle, who was happy to share her famous hot chocolate with them. They sat around Trouble and Ruffle’s living area, and Charm described to them exactly what she saw. The midnight visit, the (failed) concealment of identity, Mystic’s attempt to deny the existence of the potions Borque had; they all agreed that it was another strange thing to add to the layers of Borque’s behavior, but Iemyria didn’t think it was worth pursuing.
“I really don’t care what Borque is doing in his free time,” she insisted. “We all have our secrets; maybe Borque is feeling under the weather and needed a special potion made. Or maybe he has warts.” She sipped her hot chocolate and smiled at her companions. “Or at least I hope so,” she added, as they all laughed at her idea of petty revenge.
The conversation soon morphed into other topics, and the dragons enjoyed a lazy morning of gossiping and snacking on the treats Trouble brought out after a while. The sun grew higher in the sky, and the pavilion was quickly filled with the sounds of hatchlings waking up for the day. Trouble excused himself to check on his and Ruffle’s latest brood, four blue and purple females as curious as can be.
He had not been gone long when he called up to them from the nests below. “The nest is hatching!” he yelled, sniffing at the three eggs that had begun to split.
The other dragons quickly joined him at the nest and watched Ajax and Lura’s hatchlings emerge one by one.
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35575306][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=32&bodygene=9&breed=7&element=10&gender=1&tert=12&tertgene=0&winggene=0&wings=177&auth=45e1af30e17512212bb519cddd1ef6ff14257a51&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url]
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35575307][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=112&bodygene=9&breed=7&element=10&gender=1&tert=12&tertgene=0&winggene=2&wings=137&auth=bdac957c67eb8f16165c0ca1b1a88fb629eb70bc&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url]
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35575308][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=135&bodygene=9&breed=2&element=10&gender=0&tert=13&tertgene=0&winggene=0&wings=8&auth=496de85976c19e62907511782fdff5b8ba6dadf1&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url][/center]
[font=Calibri][size=4]They blinked in the bright sun, two spirals and a guardian. The spirals, two females, wrapped themselves around each other and began wrestling instantly, drawing snarls of annoyance from their brother. Trouble and Ruffle busied themselves in preparing a den for them in the hatchling area to free up the nest for the next eggs to be laid there.
Iemyria and Charm stayed out of the way, watching the hatchlings play with each other and soon with Trouble. Charm smiled at them wistfully, but Iemyria only felt an enormous boulder of despair settle on her chest. [i]This is what Borque left me for?[/i] she thought, her misery quickly dissolving into anger. [i]Ugly hatchlings that will turn into ugly dragons that will lead our Coliseum team? This is what all of this drama is about?? And they’re supposed to replace my spot on the team...[/i]
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Iemyria added under her breath, but before Charm could respond with her confusion, Iemyria strode out of the pavilion in a cloud of rage.
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I wrote this at like 3 am last night, but yay breed and gene upgrades! Don’t click on the scries unless you want spoilers of course :)
Ruffle rotated the last egg of the nest carefully, giving it a small pat and a sad smile as she laid it down next to the other two. She sprinkled a bit water over the eggs, said a small blessing, and left the nest in the hands of the Gladekeeper, who she hoped was watching over the unborn hatchlings’ parents as well.
The world was turning from the monochrome of predawn light to the warm hues of sunrise as Ruffle joined her mate on the second story of the pavilion, on a grand balcony made of branches guided to grow into a smooth floor decorated with vines and flowers, where they could manage the business part of the hatchery while monitoring the nests and hatchlings from above. Trouble had his head propped on a paw as he looked over some ledgers with half-closed eyes, failing in his attempt to hide a yawn. He had never been a morning dragon, and preferred to pull the covers back over his head until Ruffle threaten to magic icicles into his fur that she wouldn’t let melt for days. That usually convinced him.
“Still no sign of Ajax and Lura?” Trouble asked, rubbing his eyes as Ruffle greeted him with a gentle nudge.
She shook her head and took over checking the ledgers. “Their dens are empty and most of their belongings were gone as well. It looks like they decided to nest and run.”
“Well, we’ve had it happen before.”
“Not necessarily in these circumstances, but at least we know that these hatchlings will grow up with our loving touch.”
Trouble grimaced. “Until they fight for their lives in the Coliseum,” he said, his voice cracking as he put his head back in his paws.
Ruffle resisted the urge to roll her eyes and nuzzled her distraught mate instead. Personally, she didn’t think that sending the losing dragons to the Eleven was punishment at all, especially since they were given the choice to be leave Mist Meadow instead. She thought it would be an honor to serve her deity someday and return to her land of ice and rock once she and Trouble had grown old and weary and ready to rest. She hoped Trouble would go with her to the Southern Icefield too, but she would understand if he wanted to be exalted in the Viridian Labyrinth instead. Although she was sure he would resist being exalted until there was no other choice.
She pulled his paws from his face and gave him a quick kiss. “There is nothing better for a dragon, young or old, feeble or fierce,” she said, pulling back to look Trouble in the eyes, “than finding a place to serve alongside the Eleven. These hatchlings’ time on Sornieth may be short, but they are living their best lives as exalted dragons. I think Borque’s plan is unnecessary and strange, just like you, but we can take comfort in the fact that these hatchlings will serve our deities in comfort someday.”
Rubbing the worry lines from his forehead, Ruffle kissed him once more and sat down to continue working. Trouble let his mate take his place and shook his great mane as if to clear his head.
He put on his silks and excused himself to begin some repairs on the hatchling dens on the lower level. Upon reaching the ground, the tundra nearly ran right into Iemyria, who was standing over Ajax and Lura’s nest, her face disturbingly blank.
“Iemyria, how are you?” he said, surprised to see her up this early.
“I’m well, Trouble, thank you.” She shifted her heavy wings impatiently and cocked her head. “No sign of the missing pair, I take it?”
“I haven’t heard anything since we found their empty dens several days ago. Claws has scouts and search parties combing the Labyrinth, but nobody has turned up with anything yet.”
“But they left a nest,” she said, frowning at the eggs basking in the sun before her. “They nested and wandered away? How strange.” She knelt down and tenderly stroked the leaves sprouting from one of the eggs. “I doubt they’ll ever come back. Those two never wanted to be parents. They never wanted to be a part of this clan.”
Trouble shrugged his shoulders and offered a paw to help Iemyria back up. He doubted she would hurt the nest, but Borque’s strange behavior of late could’ve set a precedent with the skydancer that he didn’t want to test. “Your guess is as good as mine, my dear. Would you like a cup of hot chocolate? Ruffle always has some ready upstairs.”
Iemyria smiled, looking like herself for the first time that morning. “Of course, thank you, Trouble.” She followed him to the back of the pavilion, her wings swishing behind her like the sashay of a dress.
“Iemyria, wait!” came a yell from the entrance of the pavilion. Trouble and Iemyria stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking at the incoming skydancer in surprise. Neither of them had ever seen Charm in such disarray, with all of her silks fluttering in her haste like flags in the wind, but they certainly recognized the look of excitement on her face as she hurried up to them.
“You’ll never guess what Borque is doing now,” she said, panting slightly as she reached the others. Without waiting for them to respond, she went on. “He’s not only taking sleeping potions, but I think Mystic the alchemist has been making him special potions for Plaguebringer knows what!”
Iemyria raised the frills on either side of her head and squinted at Charm in doubt. This was not news Iemyria wanted to hear or let spread among other clan members. “So?” she said, smoothing back her feathers and linking arms with the other skydancer. “So he’s visiting the alchemist. There’s really no harm in that--”
“But it’s strange,” Charm interrupted, letting herself be led upstairs to the balcony. “Everything he does should be considered suspicious and worth scrutinizing. Your own words, Iya!”
Iemyria patted the dragoness’s arm reassuringly. “Well, let’s discuss this over some breakfast. I’m sure Trouble and Ruffle would like to weigh in on this too.”
They reached the top and exchanged pleasantries with Ruffle, who was happy to share her famous hot chocolate with them. They sat around Trouble and Ruffle’s living area, and Charm described to them exactly what she saw. The midnight visit, the (failed) concealment of identity, Mystic’s attempt to deny the existence of the potions Borque had; they all agreed that it was another strange thing to add to the layers of Borque’s behavior, but Iemyria didn’t think it was worth pursuing.
“I really don’t care what Borque is doing in his free time,” she insisted. “We all have our secrets; maybe Borque is feeling under the weather and needed a special potion made. Or maybe he has warts.” She sipped her hot chocolate and smiled at her companions. “Or at least I hope so,” she added, as they all laughed at her idea of petty revenge.
The conversation soon morphed into other topics, and the dragons enjoyed a lazy morning of gossiping and snacking on the treats Trouble brought out after a while. The sun grew higher in the sky, and the pavilion was quickly filled with the sounds of hatchlings waking up for the day. Trouble excused himself to check on his and Ruffle’s latest brood, four blue and purple females as curious as can be.
He had not been gone long when he called up to them from the nests below. “The nest is hatching!” he yelled, sniffing at the three eggs that had begun to split.
The other dragons quickly joined him at the nest and watched Ajax and Lura’s hatchlings emerge one by one.
They blinked in the bright sun, two spirals and a guardian. The spirals, two females, wrapped themselves around each other and began wrestling instantly, drawing snarls of annoyance from their brother. Trouble and Ruffle busied themselves in preparing a den for them in the hatchling area to free up the nest for the next eggs to be laid there.
Iemyria and Charm stayed out of the way, watching the hatchlings play with each other and soon with Trouble. Charm smiled at them wistfully, but Iemyria only felt an enormous boulder of despair settle on her chest. This is what Borque left me for? she thought, her misery quickly dissolving into anger. Ugly hatchlings that will turn into ugly dragons that will lead our Coliseum team? This is what all of this drama is about?? And they’re supposed to replace my spot on the team...
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Iemyria added under her breath, but before Charm could respond with her confusion, Iemyria strode out of the pavilion in a cloud of rage.
I wrote this at like 3 am last night, but yay breed and gene upgrades! Don’t click on the scries unless you want spoilers of course :)
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gen 1! ♥
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This was sweet indeed! ^^ I'm excited for them about their journey and sense of freedom! Hopefully the hatchlings will be okay in the care of Mist Meadow, Iemyria doesn't seem to be too impressed... I like Ajax and Lura's relationship, it's caring and fun and I hope they'll remain happy together.
This was sweet indeed! ^^ I'm excited for them about their journey and sense of freedom! Hopefully the hatchlings will be okay in the care of Mist Meadow, Iemyria doesn't seem to be too impressed... I like Ajax and Lura's relationship, it's caring and fun and I hope they'll remain happy together.
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Talismarr thank you! they were too young and curious to be cooped up in one place for long.
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Talismarr thank you! they were too young and curious to be cooped up in one place for long.
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gen 1! ♥
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”Go away.” Borque rolled over in his bed, spreading a wing over his body at the sudden change in temperature. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work,” he added, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into his pillow.
It’s nearly noon. You have to get out of bed. The room chilled a few more degrees, and the voice huffed in exasperation. You have more alliances to forge and friendships to fake. Do you want this Coliseum team to be the greatest Sornieth has ever seen or not? Borque’s Legacy, a household name - known all over the world! The strength of the gods is in them as his blood destroys the demons that plague our lands--
“You’re a demon,” Borque interrupted, smiling at the dark wind that lashed around the room in response.
And you’re infuriating!
Borque sighed and pushed himself onto his haunches, stretching his wings to their full span, nearly touching the walls on either side of his den. He yawned and stared at the dragon in the mirror in the corner of the room. His scales were dull and his eyes were sunken and bloodshot. He hadn’t brushed out his beard in days. And he felt even worse than he looked. The potion he commissioned from Mystic had helped with the headaches at first, but now they seemed to come more frequently, more severely than before. And the voice still hadn’t gone away.
Darling, come on out of bed now, that’s it. Let’s get ready for the day; you’re meeting with the Water ambassador in half an hour.
“She’s the pearlcatcher with an attitude, right? Always complaining about how dry the caves are and how lackluster our plants are. Our plants. In the Viridian Labyrinth. Home of a goddess who is basically a tree. What is her problem? She should---”
Borque cut off mid-sentence as three pairs of eyes peered at him from his now-open den door. Two spirals and a guardian, with splotched scales just like their father and their father’s mother, stared at him with their intense adolescent curiosity.
“Who are you talking to?” said one of the spirals, slithering closer to him on her belly, her siblings not far behind.
Borque shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Uh, no one. I was practicing a speech.”
The little dragons drew closer, and the guardian climbed into Borque’s bed, while his sisters busied themselves with exploring every corner of Borque’s den. Although they had finally reached adulthood, they all were still small and mischievous enough to elude Borque’s clumsy grasping as he tried to shoo them away.
“What’s this?” the first spiral said, wiggling up Borque’s desk chair and putting her paws directly in his inkwell. Borque was busy disentangling the guardian from his sheets, and looked up in horror as the spiral began to walk across his papers, leaving little paw prints in her wake.
Borque rushed to his desk and grabbed the giggling dragon by the scruff of the neck. A crash resounded on the other side of the room, and he turned, still holding the first spiral, to see the second climbing in his apparel trunk, scattering his wing guards and flying leathers. He tucked the first spiral under a wing and intercepted the guardian on his way to the trunk. He grabbed at the second spiral, who dodged him and flew around him excitedly before wrapping herself around his tail.
The dragons took the opportunity to dog-pile him with shrieks and giggles, and Borque soon found himself flat on his belly, the adolescent dragons using his sturdy wings as a wrestling platform.
Having fun?
Borque rolled his eyes and heaved himself up from under the playing dragons. To his surprise, they rolled off his wings easily, as if they had been petrified. He gasped, whirling to look at one adolescent to the next, terrified that the voice had done this to them. But the little dragons were still conscious, simply frozen in fear as they searched the empty air above them with wide eyes.
“Who was that?” the guardian growled, his voice surprisingly deep and gruff for his age. He remained still as his sisters began to pace in front of him, alternating hopping into the air to sniff around fiercely. “Are you playing tricks on us?”
Borque looked at his granddragon and tried to put on the warmest smile he could, although he was sure it looked like a grimace. “No, no, of course not.” He began to usher the siblings to the door. “Sometimes the echoes down here can travel all the way from the common room, or even outside. You’re probably hearing a group of hatchlings playing or something,” he added lamely.
“But she didn’t sound like a hatch--” one of the spirals started.
“I’m sure it was Ruffle or someone,” Borque said over her loudly. He gave the dragons a final gentle shove out his door and closed it behind him.
He found himself holding his breath until he heard his granddragons skitter away, a new game already on their minds. He let it out with a whoosh.
“What...the heck...was that,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling on his beard in agitation.
Do I embarrass you? the voice said calmly.
“You’re supposed to be in my head!” he cried. “I thought I had invented you, that I simply needed more sleep or a potion, that I was rationalizing my break up with Iemyria by dreaming up, well, you and letting my magic take the lead. So the wind and the cold and the dark...”
The voice scoffed. I’m no dream, Borque. How could you think that? She sounded more curious than hurt. I told you we’d meet soon, that I’m here to keep you on track and show you a life you couldn’t possibly obtain on your own.
“It’s just a Coliseum team, not world dominance; I just want a semblance of control back over this clan…”
Borque swore he felt a clawtip over his mouth as he trailed off. This is bigger than you think, darling, and I will be with you every step of the way.
I imagine young adult dragons to still be really small, even though they’ve grown into their adult bodies. Regardless, Borque still doesn’t know how to handle his grandkids.
And this generation is taking forever - my bad. I don't have great planning or foresight haha
”Go away.” Borque rolled over in his bed, spreading a wing over his body at the sudden change in temperature. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work,” he added, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into his pillow.
It’s nearly noon. You have to get out of bed. The room chilled a few more degrees, and the voice huffed in exasperation. You have more alliances to forge and friendships to fake. Do you want this Coliseum team to be the greatest Sornieth has ever seen or not? Borque’s Legacy, a household name - known all over the world! The strength of the gods is in them as his blood destroys the demons that plague our lands--
“You’re a demon,” Borque interrupted, smiling at the dark wind that lashed around the room in response.
And you’re infuriating!
Borque sighed and pushed himself onto his haunches, stretching his wings to their full span, nearly touching the walls on either side of his den. He yawned and stared at the dragon in the mirror in the corner of the room. His scales were dull and his eyes were sunken and bloodshot. He hadn’t brushed out his beard in days. And he felt even worse than he looked. The potion he commissioned from Mystic had helped with the headaches at first, but now they seemed to come more frequently, more severely than before. And the voice still hadn’t gone away.
Darling, come on out of bed now, that’s it. Let’s get ready for the day; you’re meeting with the Water ambassador in half an hour.
“She’s the pearlcatcher with an attitude, right? Always complaining about how dry the caves are and how lackluster our plants are. Our plants. In the Viridian Labyrinth. Home of a goddess who is basically a tree. What is her problem? She should---”
Borque cut off mid-sentence as three pairs of eyes peered at him from his now-open den door. Two spirals and a guardian, with splotched scales just like their father and their father’s mother, stared at him with their intense adolescent curiosity.
“Who are you talking to?” said one of the spirals, slithering closer to him on her belly, her siblings not far behind.
Borque shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Uh, no one. I was practicing a speech.”
The little dragons drew closer, and the guardian climbed into Borque’s bed, while his sisters busied themselves with exploring every corner of Borque’s den. Although they had finally reached adulthood, they all were still small and mischievous enough to elude Borque’s clumsy grasping as he tried to shoo them away.
“What’s this?” the first spiral said, wiggling up Borque’s desk chair and putting her paws directly in his inkwell. Borque was busy disentangling the guardian from his sheets, and looked up in horror as the spiral began to walk across his papers, leaving little paw prints in her wake.
Borque rushed to his desk and grabbed the giggling dragon by the scruff of the neck. A crash resounded on the other side of the room, and he turned, still holding the first spiral, to see the second climbing in his apparel trunk, scattering his wing guards and flying leathers. He tucked the first spiral under a wing and intercepted the guardian on his way to the trunk. He grabbed at the second spiral, who dodged him and flew around him excitedly before wrapping herself around his tail.
The dragons took the opportunity to dog-pile him with shrieks and giggles, and Borque soon found himself flat on his belly, the adolescent dragons using his sturdy wings as a wrestling platform.
Having fun?
Borque rolled his eyes and heaved himself up from under the playing dragons. To his surprise, they rolled off his wings easily, as if they had been petrified. He gasped, whirling to look at one adolescent to the next, terrified that the voice had done this to them. But the little dragons were still conscious, simply frozen in fear as they searched the empty air above them with wide eyes.
“Who was that?” the guardian growled, his voice surprisingly deep and gruff for his age. He remained still as his sisters began to pace in front of him, alternating hopping into the air to sniff around fiercely. “Are you playing tricks on us?”
Borque looked at his granddragon and tried to put on the warmest smile he could, although he was sure it looked like a grimace. “No, no, of course not.” He began to usher the siblings to the door. “Sometimes the echoes down here can travel all the way from the common room, or even outside. You’re probably hearing a group of hatchlings playing or something,” he added lamely.
“But she didn’t sound like a hatch--” one of the spirals started.
“I’m sure it was Ruffle or someone,” Borque said over her loudly. He gave the dragons a final gentle shove out his door and closed it behind him.
He found himself holding his breath until he heard his granddragons skitter away, a new game already on their minds. He let it out with a whoosh.
“What...the heck...was that,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling on his beard in agitation.
Do I embarrass you? the voice said calmly.
“You’re supposed to be in my head!” he cried. “I thought I had invented you, that I simply needed more sleep or a potion, that I was rationalizing my break up with Iemyria by dreaming up, well, you and letting my magic take the lead. So the wind and the cold and the dark...”
The voice scoffed. I’m no dream, Borque. How could you think that? She sounded more curious than hurt. I told you we’d meet soon, that I’m here to keep you on track and show you a life you couldn’t possibly obtain on your own.
“It’s just a Coliseum team, not world dominance; I just want a semblance of control back over this clan…”
Borque swore he felt a clawtip over his mouth as he trailed off. This is bigger than you think, darling, and I will be with you every step of the way.
I imagine young adult dragons to still be really small, even though they’ve grown into their adult bodies. Regardless, Borque still doesn’t know how to handle his grandkids.
And this generation is taking forever - my bad. I don't have great planning or foresight haha
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lilastar
Finally got around to giving this a read, sorry I didn't read it earlier! I must have checked the notification and then promptly forgot about it ^^'
I like this chapter because it shows a more human (for lack of a better word) side of Borque, rather than the commanding and prepared figure that he presents himself as in front of others or the rest of the clan. The grand dragons are so cute, exasperating him and him not being able to handle them in his den!
Also, I'm so curious about this mysterious voice... looking forward to finding out more!
@
lilastar
Finally got around to giving this a read, sorry I didn't read it earlier! I must have checked the notification and then promptly forgot about it ^^'
I like this chapter because it shows a more human (for lack of a better word) side of Borque, rather than the commanding and prepared figure that he presents himself as in front of others or the rest of the clan. The grand dragons are so cute, exasperating him and him not being able to handle them in his den!
Also, I'm so curious about this mysterious voice... looking forward to finding out more!
@
Talismarr thank you so much!! I'm a little behind on everything as well :P but yes! I like writing a flustered Borque haha. stay tuned!
@
Talismarr thank you so much!! I'm a little behind on everything as well :P but yes! I like writing a flustered Borque haha. stay tuned!
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♥ featured dragon
for sale
gen 1! ♥
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Selene meticulously smoothed the fluffy coat of feathers on her chest and adjusted her bows in the mirror, turning her head just so to catch the morning light on her iridescent coat. Finally satisfied, she made her way through the lair, past the empty common room and under the waterfall that hid the entrance to the cave.
She had slept late this morning, a luxury she took advantage of as often as possible. The market had already cleared out for the day, but she waved to a few stray dragons here and there as they made their way to the Coliseum. Today was the day they took the next step in Borque’s grand plan to establish a new team.
The complaints and grumbling about Borque’s project had quieted down, and a little burst of excitement and festivity had taken its place. Clan members were eager to attend today’s battle, some even placing bets on which dragon Borque would choose for a final spot with the new team or if he would require another generation. There was speculation if all the team members would be chosen through this process or if they would bring in outsiders to fill the remaining positions; perhaps all three dragons from this generation would place on the team.
At this point, Selene didn’t care to join the discussion and gambling surrounding Borque’s methodology. She, along with the other small council members, had discussed Borque’s proposal at length and saw no harm in letting him play out his little game. As much as Selene hated to see Iemyria distressed, perhaps the friction between the two would ignite a positive change in their leadership. New motivation to lead the clan in the right direction; a spark to set them on the right path.
As Selene passed by the Training Grounds, she heard distinct huffs of exertion coming from the little shed where the Coliseum Master stored training supplies and battle leathers. She peered into the shed just in time to see Claws struggling to balance agility blocks against the wall as he carried a bundle of wraps under his wing.
“Hey there, let me help you!” She rushed to his side, and together they stopped the blocks’ precarious swaying until they stood in neat rows along the back wall.
Claws shook out his wings, dropping the wraps, and removed his mask. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, giving her a quick nod before returning to his chores.
Selene stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing if she should ask if he needed more help or continue on to the Coliseum. She didn’t know much about the wiry mirror, other than he was Chimalli’s son and one of Borque’s closest friends. He played the part of the enigmatic teacher fairly well, mainly keeping to himself and rarely leaving the Mist Meadow Training Grounds.
“Do you, um, need something?” Claws asked, looking over his shoulder at the coatl as he continued tidying up.
“No, sorry.” Selene sat on her haunches and curled her tail around herself. The shed was dim in the morning light, although she could see rays of the sun streaming through cracks in the walls. They fell on a pile of blankets in an otherwise dark corner. “Do you sleep here?” she asked, peering into the darkness.
Claws stiffened. “The caves make me claustrophobic, I guess,” he said.
Selene nodded and watched him fold and put away the remaining battle leathers in silence. He glanced at her every now and then, wondering why she was still sitting there in his shed. Her presence was an interruption, a strange distraction from his tasks. Why hadn’t she left yet?
“Would you like to watch the Coliseum match with me?” Selene asked politely. “I know you’ve spent hours with those dragons already, but I’m on my way, and I wouldn’t mind someone to walk with.”
“I’m not going,” Claws said bluntly, turning to face her. He dug his talons into the soft dirt of the shed floor. “You’re right, I’ve spend a lot of time with them - I don’t need to see all the unnecessary fanfare. Fighting in the Coliseum isn’t a frivolous game to watch and enjoy; it’s a way of supporting the clan and bringing prosperity to those we care about.” He paused, looking Selene in the eye. “I’m staying right here.”
Selene cocked her head and scoffed. “Okay then, Mr. Dramatic. I’ll stay here with you.” She raised a paw at his protest. “I’d rather be useful here than pretend to be entertained with the rest. Now what can I help with?”
Claws blinked all four eyes in surprise at the blunt coatl and found himself showing her into the shed. They spent the next hour or so polishing old armor and stitching wraps back together, dusting shelves of forgotten Coliseum loot and sorting them in piles to take to the treasury. They worked in silence, but Selene managed a huff or two of amusement out of Claws, making puns about battle moves or trying on helmets much too big for her slight head. She knew more about fighting than Claws thought, and he appreciated the respect and attention she gave to his equipment.
Sooner than he expected, he could hear the faint sounds of dragons returning home from the match at the Coliseum. He and Selene exchanged a look and went outside to see who had returned.
A small processional passed before them, led by Borque and what looked to be Larx, covered in bandages dark with blood. They were followed by two long bodies on stretchers, the inseparable spiral sisters who would be forced to leave the clan or join the Gladekeeper as soon as they regained consciousness. Selene bowed her head and said a quick prayer to the Icewarden, that the sisters would not bear any grudge against the Rosewoods for putting them in this position. Claws respectfully inclined his head as they passed as well, and soon the march gave way to a more joyous group of dragons, clearly having enjoyed the battle and the food and drink that accompanied it.
“Well, at least Borque was happy with one of them,” Selene postulated, peering down the path as the last of the boisterous dragons went by.
“We’ll see if he keeps Larx around,” Claws said. “Most likely he’ll just find another mate for him and try to breed more flights into his bloodline. That’s what I would do, at least.”
Selene glanced at the mirror, who was staring at the empty meadow with ponderous look on his face. She put her paw on his and gave him a reassuring smile. “How about we go ask? I’d like to find out more on behalf of the small council anyway.”
Surprised, Claws found himself nodding, and the pair trailed Borque into the lair.
So sorry I haven’t posted for a while! Just moved into a new apartment and other life things got into the way. So here’s a little update - I totally skipped writing another battle scene, and I don’t regret it :P
Selene meticulously smoothed the fluffy coat of feathers on her chest and adjusted her bows in the mirror, turning her head just so to catch the morning light on her iridescent coat. Finally satisfied, she made her way through the lair, past the empty common room and under the waterfall that hid the entrance to the cave.
She had slept late this morning, a luxury she took advantage of as often as possible. The market had already cleared out for the day, but she waved to a few stray dragons here and there as they made their way to the Coliseum. Today was the day they took the next step in Borque’s grand plan to establish a new team.
The complaints and grumbling about Borque’s project had quieted down, and a little burst of excitement and festivity had taken its place. Clan members were eager to attend today’s battle, some even placing bets on which dragon Borque would choose for a final spot with the new team or if he would require another generation. There was speculation if all the team members would be chosen through this process or if they would bring in outsiders to fill the remaining positions; perhaps all three dragons from this generation would place on the team.
At this point, Selene didn’t care to join the discussion and gambling surrounding Borque’s methodology. She, along with the other small council members, had discussed Borque’s proposal at length and saw no harm in letting him play out his little game. As much as Selene hated to see Iemyria distressed, perhaps the friction between the two would ignite a positive change in their leadership. New motivation to lead the clan in the right direction; a spark to set them on the right path.
As Selene passed by the Training Grounds, she heard distinct huffs of exertion coming from the little shed where the Coliseum Master stored training supplies and battle leathers. She peered into the shed just in time to see Claws struggling to balance agility blocks against the wall as he carried a bundle of wraps under his wing.
“Hey there, let me help you!” She rushed to his side, and together they stopped the blocks’ precarious swaying until they stood in neat rows along the back wall.
Claws shook out his wings, dropping the wraps, and removed his mask. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, giving her a quick nod before returning to his chores.
Selene stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing if she should ask if he needed more help or continue on to the Coliseum. She didn’t know much about the wiry mirror, other than he was Chimalli’s son and one of Borque’s closest friends. He played the part of the enigmatic teacher fairly well, mainly keeping to himself and rarely leaving the Mist Meadow Training Grounds.
“Do you, um, need something?” Claws asked, looking over his shoulder at the coatl as he continued tidying up.
“No, sorry.” Selene sat on her haunches and curled her tail around herself. The shed was dim in the morning light, although she could see rays of the sun streaming through cracks in the walls. They fell on a pile of blankets in an otherwise dark corner. “Do you sleep here?” she asked, peering into the darkness.
Claws stiffened. “The caves make me claustrophobic, I guess,” he said.
Selene nodded and watched him fold and put away the remaining battle leathers in silence. He glanced at her every now and then, wondering why she was still sitting there in his shed. Her presence was an interruption, a strange distraction from his tasks. Why hadn’t she left yet?
“Would you like to watch the Coliseum match with me?” Selene asked politely. “I know you’ve spent hours with those dragons already, but I’m on my way, and I wouldn’t mind someone to walk with.”
“I’m not going,” Claws said bluntly, turning to face her. He dug his talons into the soft dirt of the shed floor. “You’re right, I’ve spend a lot of time with them - I don’t need to see all the unnecessary fanfare. Fighting in the Coliseum isn’t a frivolous game to watch and enjoy; it’s a way of supporting the clan and bringing prosperity to those we care about.” He paused, looking Selene in the eye. “I’m staying right here.”
Selene cocked her head and scoffed. “Okay then, Mr. Dramatic. I’ll stay here with you.” She raised a paw at his protest. “I’d rather be useful here than pretend to be entertained with the rest. Now what can I help with?”
Claws blinked all four eyes in surprise at the blunt coatl and found himself showing her into the shed. They spent the next hour or so polishing old armor and stitching wraps back together, dusting shelves of forgotten Coliseum loot and sorting them in piles to take to the treasury. They worked in silence, but Selene managed a huff or two of amusement out of Claws, making puns about battle moves or trying on helmets much too big for her slight head. She knew more about fighting than Claws thought, and he appreciated the respect and attention she gave to his equipment.
Sooner than he expected, he could hear the faint sounds of dragons returning home from the match at the Coliseum. He and Selene exchanged a look and went outside to see who had returned.
A small processional passed before them, led by Borque and what looked to be Larx, covered in bandages dark with blood. They were followed by two long bodies on stretchers, the inseparable spiral sisters who would be forced to leave the clan or join the Gladekeeper as soon as they regained consciousness. Selene bowed her head and said a quick prayer to the Icewarden, that the sisters would not bear any grudge against the Rosewoods for putting them in this position. Claws respectfully inclined his head as they passed as well, and soon the march gave way to a more joyous group of dragons, clearly having enjoyed the battle and the food and drink that accompanied it.
“Well, at least Borque was happy with one of them,” Selene postulated, peering down the path as the last of the boisterous dragons went by.
“We’ll see if he keeps Larx around,” Claws said. “Most likely he’ll just find another mate for him and try to breed more flights into his bloodline. That’s what I would do, at least.”
Selene glanced at the mirror, who was staring at the empty meadow with ponderous look on his face. She put her paw on his and gave him a reassuring smile. “How about we go ask? I’d like to find out more on behalf of the small council anyway.”
Surprised, Claws found himself nodding, and the pair trailed Borque into the lair.
So sorry I haven’t posted for a while! Just moved into a new apartment and other life things got into the way. So here’s a little update - I totally skipped writing another battle scene, and I don’t regret it :P
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♥ featured dragon
for sale
gen 1! ♥
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[font=Calibri][size=4]After making the rounds in the common room, accepting toasts in his honor and congratulatory paw shakes and pats on the back, Borque excused himself from the fervent party, shaking his head at his fellow dragons’ ability to turn a disastrous battle into a hearty celebration. Claws and Selene - an odd pairing, Borque thought, as he had never seen the two of them together before - had approached him earlier as well, with many questions about his plans for Larx’s mate and the future flights he planned to add to his bloodline, but Borque managed to evade them, even telling them the truth - that he didn’t have any concrete plans for Larx yet.
It had been so difficult to maintain a positive, or even neutral, face as he watched his granddragons fight. The spiral sisters relied too much on each other, unable to defend themselves when separated, which ultimately led to their failure. By default, Larx became the last dragon standing, but Borque had still not been satisfied with his heir. He announced that Larx would not take a position on the final Coliseum team but would add his strength and ferocity to the bloodline with a mate of Borque’s choosing. Larx seemed oddly relieved at that, leaving the celebration early to visit his sisters in the infirmary.
Borque tugged on his beard in frustration as he lumbered through the tunnels and hallways to his den. He needed to talk to someone about this stupid plan of his. It was getting bigger than he anticipated, but she would know what to do.
He approached his den quickly, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders as a cool wind blew through his open door. [i]She must be waiting for me…[/i]
But instead of a gentle voice and a soothing breeze twisting through his wings, a corporeal dragon stood her ground in his den instead.
“Iemyria?” Borque froze at the threshold as his former mate grinned at him from inside his den, her guard, a spiral female, standing stoically to the side. “What are you doing here?”
She fell back on his bed gracefully, feathers billowing softly like a sheet aired out in the breeze. “I haven’t seen your new den yet, my dear,” she said, smoothing the rumpled bedding beneath her. “So I thought I’d drop by.”
Borque eyed the guard warily, wondering how loose her tongue was. If the clan found out that its at-odds, formerly-intimate leaders were meeting in the middle of the night in Borque’s private den...he really didn’t want to have to put that fire out.
He shook out his beard in frustration and let out a half growl, resisting the urge to let the tendrils of his magic reach into her mind and pluck her thoughts like a ripe apple. “What, Iemyria, are you doing here?”
Iemyria huffed and rolled her eyes, curling into a more comfortable position on Borque’s bed. “If you must know, I want in.” She held up a paw at Borque’s fumbled attempt at confusion. “You know what I mean. If I’m going to be replaced,” she continued with a quiet snarl, “I want to help build the new Coliseum team. I don’t want to be at the front of it all, parading your heirs and recruits around like some sort of show. I’m more interested in the selection process.”
Borque remained where he was at the entrance of his room as Iemyria gestured for her guard to come forward. He tensed as the spiral drew nearer, wings folding back into a defensive position as he considered Iemyria’s plan here. Were they really going to blitz attack him in his own room so that Iemyria could take over? Take him captive and hold him in the depths of the caves or turn him loose in the Shrieking Wilds? A sudden thought came to him, that [i]she[/i] - the voice - she would never let that happen...
Abruptly, the spiral stopped and bowed her head, spreading her wings in a sign of submission. Borque remained in his pose but risked a glance at Iemyria, who was busy fussing with her silks and petals. Without looking up, she said, “Oh right. Borque? This is Sequence. She’ll be Larx’s new mate for the next generation.”
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[font=Calibri][size=4]Sequence remained bowed in front of Borque as he stared at his former mate in exasperation. “I’ll introduce them tomorrow when Larx has finished saying goodbye to his sisters, so you don’t have to worry about that uncomfortable bit,” Iemyria went on. “And I know how you feel about water dragons, but their foresight on the battlefield is a force to be reckoned with, and I’m fairly certain you’ll thank me further along down the bloodline.”
Borque was still frozen by the doorway, but the familiar sound of Iemyria’s stubbornness warmed something deep inside his chest. He shook his head and chuckled, surprised at how relieved he was to have some form of her support. There were so many things that would have to remain hidden from her, namely the forged documents and his hallucinations, but he’d gladly share the burden of his crazy plan of never having to battle again.
“Very well,” he said, motioning for Sequence to rise. He gave the spiral an appraising look before moving further into the room and extending a paw to help Iemyria off his bed. “You’ve made a good choice.” The skydancer smirked and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she languidly ushered the spiral out of the room.
“Goodnight,” Iemyria called over her shoulder.
[i]Goodnight,[/i] hissed the voice as the door slammed shut behind them.
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[font=Calibri][size=4]Wow, sorry, it has been a month since I’ve last updated! My bad...I’ve still been breeding and finding mates for this challenge so watch out for spoilers if you click on any dragons. Thanks for sticking with me and being patient if you’re still reading this <3
After making the rounds in the common room, accepting toasts in his honor and congratulatory paw shakes and pats on the back, Borque excused himself from the fervent party, shaking his head at his fellow dragons’ ability to turn a disastrous battle into a hearty celebration. Claws and Selene - an odd pairing, Borque thought, as he had never seen the two of them together before - had approached him earlier as well, with many questions about his plans for Larx’s mate and the future flights he planned to add to his bloodline, but Borque managed to evade them, even telling them the truth - that he didn’t have any concrete plans for Larx yet.
It had been so difficult to maintain a positive, or even neutral, face as he watched his granddragons fight. The spiral sisters relied too much on each other, unable to defend themselves when separated, which ultimately led to their failure. By default, Larx became the last dragon standing, but Borque had still not been satisfied with his heir. He announced that Larx would not take a position on the final Coliseum team but would add his strength and ferocity to the bloodline with a mate of Borque’s choosing. Larx seemed oddly relieved at that, leaving the celebration early to visit his sisters in the infirmary.
Borque tugged on his beard in frustration as he lumbered through the tunnels and hallways to his den. He needed to talk to someone about this stupid plan of his. It was getting bigger than he anticipated, but she would know what to do.
He approached his den quickly, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders as a cool wind blew through his open door. She must be waiting for me…
But instead of a gentle voice and a soothing breeze twisting through his wings, a corporeal dragon stood her ground in his den instead.
“Iemyria?” Borque froze at the threshold as his former mate grinned at him from inside his den, her guard, a spiral female, standing stoically to the side. “What are you doing here?”
She fell back on his bed gracefully, feathers billowing softly like a sheet aired out in the breeze. “I haven’t seen your new den yet, my dear,” she said, smoothing the rumpled bedding beneath her. “So I thought I’d drop by.”
Borque eyed the guard warily, wondering how loose her tongue was. If the clan found out that its at-odds, formerly-intimate leaders were meeting in the middle of the night in Borque’s private den...he really didn’t want to have to put that fire out.
He shook out his beard in frustration and let out a half growl, resisting the urge to let the tendrils of his magic reach into her mind and pluck her thoughts like a ripe apple. “What, Iemyria, are you doing here?”
Iemyria huffed and rolled her eyes, curling into a more comfortable position on Borque’s bed. “If you must know, I want in.” She held up a paw at Borque’s fumbled attempt at confusion. “You know what I mean. If I’m going to be replaced,” she continued with a quiet snarl, “I want to help build the new Coliseum team. I don’t want to be at the front of it all, parading your heirs and recruits around like some sort of show. I’m more interested in the selection process.”
Borque remained where he was at the entrance of his room as Iemyria gestured for her guard to come forward. He tensed as the spiral drew nearer, wings folding back into a defensive position as he considered Iemyria’s plan here. Were they really going to blitz attack him in his own room so that Iemyria could take over? Take him captive and hold him in the depths of the caves or turn him loose in the Shrieking Wilds? A sudden thought came to him, that she - the voice - she would never let that happen...
Abruptly, the spiral stopped and bowed her head, spreading her wings in a sign of submission. Borque remained in his pose but risked a glance at Iemyria, who was busy fussing with her silks and petals. Without looking up, she said, “Oh right. Borque? This is Sequence. She’ll be Larx’s new mate for the next generation.”
Sequence remained bowed in front of Borque as he stared at his former mate in exasperation. “I’ll introduce them tomorrow when Larx has finished saying goodbye to his sisters, so you don’t have to worry about that uncomfortable bit,” Iemyria went on. “And I know how you feel about water dragons, but their foresight on the battlefield is a force to be reckoned with, and I’m fairly certain you’ll thank me further along down the bloodline.”
Borque was still frozen by the doorway, but the familiar sound of Iemyria’s stubbornness warmed something deep inside his chest. He shook his head and chuckled, surprised at how relieved he was to have some form of her support. There were so many things that would have to remain hidden from her, namely the forged documents and his hallucinations, but he’d gladly share the burden of his crazy plan of never having to battle again.
“Very well,” he said, motioning for Sequence to rise. He gave the spiral an appraising look before moving further into the room and extending a paw to help Iemyria off his bed. “You’ve made a good choice.” The skydancer smirked and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she languidly ushered the spiral out of the room.
“Goodnight,” Iemyria called over her shoulder.
Goodnight, hissed the voice as the door slammed shut behind them.
Wow, sorry, it has been a month since I’ve last updated! My bad...I’ve still been breeding and finding mates for this challenge so watch out for spoilers if you click on any dragons. Thanks for sticking with me and being patient if you’re still reading this <3
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♥ featured dragon
for sale
gen 1! ♥
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