Ivanko

Ivanko
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Oh?

There’s a crack in the ceiling. Sunlight is streaming through this crevice, bathing your abode in pale golden light. A pale outline forms around your tools and furniture, and you think to yourself that it looks very fetching.

Then a sudden sharp sound catches your attention. More fissures appear in the ceiling, spreading out from the centre like a spider’s web. Blocks fall and hit your head; you snort and shake them off, their dusty imprint dirtying your mane. Gravel spatter your furniture, your tables and kitchen counters, and you watch in dismay as dust coats your newly cleaned cutlery and intricate dishes.
What a shame.
Now your guests will have to take their meal covered in filth.

You sigh and raise your head and meets the gaze of your first guest. Through the newly formed hole in your roof, a large head peeks through; the sandy maw of a guardian. Her venom green gaze falls upon your fine dinner table and her lip curls. You agree. What a horrid thing she did to your hall. You who had put so much time and work into preparing this wonderful time for everyone, and then these rascals come determined to ruin it.

As you feel sorry for yourself and this awful, awful situation, vines and mossy tendrils snake through the hole, curls around the rock and pulls. Her green, green gaze on you, she pulls the rocks loose and a new boulder rain hits your shoulders.
...If you didn’t know better, you might think she was trying to rile you up.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself. Then another face appears above you and your mood immediately brightens. It’s your friend; your oldest, dearest friend! Hello!

“Good day to you, ___! How are you this fine-” you eagerly look for your old clock, which is no longer above you fireplace. You find it lying half-broken by your feet. Thankfully, despite the damage, it’s still ticking. “-late noon?” you finish. You had been so busy preparing this grand feast, you completely forgot the time. A feast for Him, of course. How fitting that He’s on time.

He doesn’t answer you; only watches you with those familiar brown, blank eyes. How you’ve missed those eyes! You remember back when you were but a hatchling and He had watched over you. Even back then you know that His eyes would have been too small for you, and yet-! You wanted them, wanted them to rest in your sockets. You wonder, would the world have looked different through His - your - eyes? You have wondered for ten-thousand nights and more, and no satisfactory answer have reached you.

“C-can I invite you to eat? I set a table for you, with table linens and the finest cutlery I could procure. That reminds me, one moment, please-!” With a jostle, you stumble your way between the boulders littering your floor. With some consternation, you take a moment to judge the state of your dinner table. Thankfully, your table escaped the worst of the rain of boulders. Still, a thick layer of dust and gravel is covering the dishes - especially the ones you had put the most effort into preparing. With your own howl of anguish ringing through your ears, you voice your frustration at the knowledge that you don’t know how to salvage the situation. What a mess. And it’s all thanks to her.

With a venomous glare to match hers, you crane your neck up and stare at the guardian. You stare at her neck. It’s meaty and covered in mold and moss. The greenery is unusual, but you have prepared perfection from worse. ___ clears His throat and your attention snap towards Him. Of course, how could you have forgotten? This is all for Him.

Speaking of. Beside Him, a familiar face appears and your mood instantly sours. The creature - because you refuse to call it a dragon - has picked up a few more bells and whistles since you last saw him. He's still thin as a straw - just useless. He peers curiously at you, but you know that unless something’s drastically changed, he should be as high-strung as ever; so when you fix your gaze at him and frown, he recoils and hides between his master. Hah. You knew it.

“Oh, and one more thing, Ivanko.” That… that’s your name. How long has it been since you heard it? Your answer is almost absentminded.

“Yes, ___?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m only the Artifex now.”

“Oh. Of course, of course. Artifex, ___.”

“...This was a waste. Toca, Ash, do your work.”

He turns to leave and you panic. In a fit of madness, you blurt out, “___, I- I heard you have gotten a son. Can- can I see him? I want to see him! My little brother…”

His spine goes ramrod straight, and when you catch His gaze, do you imagine the flicker of fear in them?

His next words are a sharp bark that hurts your ears. “You utter fool! Stop sticking your snout where it doesn’t belong! I see now that it was a mistake coming here. I should have just let you rot in this hole!”

“You already have,” you murmur, your voice the faintest of whispers. He’s right, of course He is. You should have known better to scratch at scabs. You resolve to withdraw. Perhaps if you leave Him be for a few weeks, He’ll return in a better mood. You bow your head in farewell and turn to clear the table. You’ve hardly lifted the first dish before your attention is drawn back to Him.

“Ivanko. Ivanko, look at me.” You do so, reluctantly. He continues, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Travellers have been dropping of the radar left and right, and the bloody trail leads here. And I know what you did with them. You think I don’t know what you’re trying to feed us?” With a claw shaking with rage, He points to the table and hisses. “Do you take me for a fool? Toca. Ash. Let’s clean up this mess.”
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Other dragons appearing in this lore piece:

The Artifex/___

Toca

Ash

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Fan adopt by @nonaline!