Manix

His favorite food is pancakes!

Manix's eyes glowed softly as he slipped silently through the Starwood Strand, bundles and bags of stolen tomes, runes, parchments, maps and books in his possession made lighter by his magic and various enchantments placed on the bags and cases he carried, having dared not try to enchant the ancient and irreplaceable items he stole. He was wise enough at least to not make the same mistake as the few traitorous scholars before him.

A gentle hum from his throat and a flurry of cyan wisps of magic and fire formed around him appearing from seemingly nowhere. His most prized creation, fireflies morphed into living fire, flames blue with unstable magic and heat that seemed barely contained. His eyes followed one that came close to his ear, barely a breath of a whispering sound it made only for Manix to hear.

"Guards are already crossing from the Focal Point to the Starwood? My research suggested I'd that they would be somewhere in the middle of the Focal Point. It seems previous attempts have made them more alert to such activities."
Manix shook his head with a careless sigh.
"No time to stop and renew the enchantments, I'll just have to make it across the border before they run out. They can't touch me once I cross into the Scarred Wasteland." He thought for a moment, before turning to the wisps.

"Set fire to something, kill a dragon, I don't care. Make it as difficult as you can for those pesky guardians to cross and make it any closer to me. And most importantly, keep an eye on them as you have been, and keep watch for anyone who could stand between me and the border." He spoke with a mild hiss, before a sharp hum sent the wisps away to do their task.

Manix's eyes sharpened and shone with a daring gleam of excitement. "You all always looked down on me, called my research and learning worthless. But while you were all busy running around chasing the Arcanist's feet and staring at the endless stars I developed life fully obedient to the caster, capable of anything, more than a dragon is capable of, and just a fraction of the size of even the smallest breeds." He felt a chuckle swell in his chest, but he dare not express it till he was safe.
"Well here we are now, me with your most prized and precious items, and you all running about with your heads cut off, wondering how I did it. You didn't even believe I was capable of this, let me walk straight out the front doors with a jeer." He let slip a snicker.

"Lemon would die to get his hands on these, and I'm most willing to give them for
free, fill the gaps in his nearly complete knowledge. Swiftwings, ancient magic, the shade. Everything is here. He can read them, most likely one of the only left who can. Maybe he will teach me even a fraction of their contents." He hummed hopefully, lost in his ramblings.
"For if he learns the secrets of even the Arcanist, well, I'd love to see what would happen then."

He sneered as he landed just on the border between the CrystalPine Reaches and the Scarred Wasteland to rest his weary wings. He looked over his shoulder to witness the unholy blue smoke that careened through the sky, mingling and mixing with the thick clouds that covered the stars tonight and creating a thick blanket that not even the Lightweaver's rays could break through. Her could see the eeriee glow of cyan flames on the horizon. Clearly his wisps had done a good job for when he hummed, all returned, a chatter of whispers that fell only on his ears.

"Good job, it seems I will not be bothered as I take the last leg of the journey to find the Outsider's Outpost. Not by anyone with any idea of what I carry." He muttered to his wisps. "Half of you spread out across the wastelands, confirm the Outpost is where Lemon said it was, and make sure that the way is safe." He hummed and the wisps left to do his bidding, only a handful remaining by his side as a light through the darkness and protection from the hellish diseases of the wasteland he now crossed.

---

Manix shielded his eyes from the glare of the merciless sun as he looked up at the Outsiders Outpost, one massive construct with multiple smaller rooms and buildings around the central building, the hub of sorts for the multitude of dragons looking to rest for a day or trade with those who lived there. The rooms were most certainly for the inhabitants privacy and comfort.

Manix muttered softly to one of his beloved wisps. "Find LemonLord or Forekai. Then return to tell me their location" he hummed, sending them on their way to complete their orders.

He wandered closer, shifting his cumbersome loot uncomfortably, the enchantments beginning to wear away brining back their terrible weight. He huffed as he entered the main hub, looking around in tired and self contained respect.

Smaller breeds walked or flew in the upper half of the hub, walkways stretching the expanse of the room all meeting up in the middle like spokes on a wheel. The center of the room had a massive wood pillar as a central support for the roof and upper walkways. Larger breeds traversed the lower section, away from smaller breeds so no one accidentally got stepped on.

His wisps returned to him, pulling his arcane eyes away from the architectural marvel.
"you've found Lemon? Perfect. Lead the way" he hummed, watching as a handful of wisps floating off, leading him through the tangling labyrinth of dragons. They came to a stop at one of the smaller external rooms, the door shut tight.

Manix didn't hesitate to knock, the stolen literature a no longer welcome weight on his shoulders. A golden mess of hair and delicate jewelry opened the door, a wild claw answering.

"may I help you?" LemonLord asked curiously, sweeping the hair from his eyes. Manix smiled as his wisps settled on his body.
"my name is Manix. I heard of your ability to read the most ancient of languages, and as one of the greatest sources of draconian knowledge and deity secrets. I have some items that will solve the last few questions you may have about the unknown, missing, etcetera." he slid the bags and cases of priceless scrolls, maps, tomes, books and parchments off his shoulders and very carefully placed them down.

Lemonlord rose an eyebrow, opening the door wider.
" These.... Did you steal them? They're scribed by the Arcanist himself. Incredible." He whispered as he carefully unrolled a scroll, reading it with wide eyes.
"these solve everything and more. Why did you bring these to me?" lemon wondered aloud.
Manix stretched, entwining his claws before speaking.
"because you are the only one I believe I can trust to read these and not be careless. Those fools at the Observatory don't deserve these, too ignorant and arrogant. And most ancient readers are crooked and dirty. They'd only waste and ruin based on what they learned. There would be no respect."

Lemon nodded, picking them up and bringing them all to his room, whistling as he pulled out a seemingly endless number or the writings from the bags and stowed them away safely.
" What enchantment did you use to make these bags and cases hold so many?! This feels like half the Arcanist's library!"

Manix chuckled. "it's my own creation, much like my wisps. Never given credit. But now it has been utilized to rob them blind, and they didn't know it until I was halfway gone." he spoke without pride, just disappointment.
Lemon smiled widely.
"please teach me how!" he exclaimed loudly, full of excitement.

This took Manix by pleasant surprise. "Of course. It would be an honor to show you." Manix smiled, making himself at home.

---

---

---

Manix woke, panicked scream trapped in his dry throat and eyes wide with fear. He had never felt so utterly afraid or alone before now, and the nightmare that consumed his sleep seemed to bleed into reality. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. But the hatchling from his dream, he couldn't let him fall prey to Red Claw's tyrrany. This dream that shook him to his core every night, that he once brushed off was no longer something he could ignore. The begging and tormented cries, they tore his soul to shreds and branded his heart. "Murderer" those words read. He couldn't stand it, could never live with it.

He scrambled out of bed, summoning his wisps to his side to light his way through the darkened room. Lemonlord barely stirred as Manix left. He would find this hatchling made of stars, and rase him as he deserved.

---

Alcen trembled in fear, eyes wide as they watched the fae who had kidnapped him. Those red claws terrified him, and he shrunk back further into the cage he was trapped him. "help me" he whimpered, his dreams mixing with reality into something he couldn't understand. The stars told him he could influence dreams and make them reality. He tried, wished, with all his might for someone to see him and find him. He called for his dream-friend. A fae with blue magic but arcane eyes. He didn't know his name. Was it panic? Manic? No, none of those were right. But it was something like that, he was sure. If he could make dreams reality, surely he could make his dream-friend real, make him save him.

---

Manix flew blindly through the night. He didn't know exactly where to go, but his first pull was to a very dangerous territory. Red Claw's territory. If he was caught, he couldn't do a thing to defend himself. Almost every dragon there was strong enough to easily overpower him, although his wisps might make the encounter survival. But if Sholka, Viven, nameless, or any other high-ranking member showed up he was immediately dead.

He shuddered as he slowed and descended. There was one way in and out of their lair, and it was heavily guarded. He prayed setting a large fire would be enough to distract just long enough to get in. Hidden now behind a boulder, on a leg barely big enough to hold him, he commanded his wisps to set as much and whatever they could on fire. He waited silently, until he heard some sign it was safe to go. A loud tell of pain echoed out. Okay, not the sign he wanted but it would have to do. He dashed around, throwing himself through the entrance and praying he wasn't seen. He flew as fast as he could, through the smallest of passages to avoid the imperials of the clan. His concern was the two fae. He hoped against hope not to be found by them. This would not be answered however, as voices lead him to the room where the hatchling was. That room so happened to hold both Red Claw and Nameless. Oh Arcanist may he make it out alive. He called upon his wisps to set fire to Red's clothing, and Nameless' cards. He watched, terrified, as the pair cursed loudly and made to put out the enchanted flames. He dove down, and melted the lock. No words between Alcen or Manix were spoken, but the exchanging of gazes was more than enough.

---

Alcen clung to Manix, chest feeling light of fear for a moment as the fae made for the larger tunnel. Looking over Manix's shoulder, he watched with renewed terror as Viven and Nameless gave immediate chase, Nameless' cards already repaired and Viven only made angrier, his claws long and doused in crimson. He was going to eliminate them, and while Manix was carrying both their weights, they would be caught and dead in a matter of seconds. He felt his breath caught for a moment, saw red claws rake through Manix's wings and slice his tail. He felt everything slow, breathed in, then screamed and shut his eyes tight, willing for, at that very moment, for him and his dream-friend Manix to disappear and be safe, somewhere, anywhere but here.

Manix stopped flying, rolling into red sand dazed and confused. He had just been in caves but now he was under the night sky, thousands of kilometers away from Lightning and just a few hundred away from the Outpost. He lifted his wings and and tried to orientate up and down, Alcen tucked protectively against his chest. He was completely disorientated and in agony as he tried to get upright, but only flopping more uselessly in the sand. Alcen worriedly pried himself from his arms and stood up, watching in horror.
"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE! HELP!" Alcen screamed into the wind. He didn't know what to do. He knew from watching his family be stolen from him that Manix's wounds had been poisoned with Nameless' plague card, and that if they didn't get help soon, he would die, trapped in the sand. He screamed for help, until his tiny throat was screeched raw, pressed always to Manix's side. He was beyond exhausted as he listened for breathing. He couldn't hear it above his own panicked heart. What he did hear was the crunch of someone walking through the sand right at them. A mirror covered in stripes and tattoos. The mirror grinned toothily, and pressed a single claw to Manix's nose.
"I am a necromancer, one of Mother's gifted children. Your friend will live, but you need to get him to rest. It will be a few days before he can tell up from down, but he will be alright. I will carry him to the Outpost before I go on my way, so please follow." the mirror spoke, lifting the unconscious Manix onto his back before returning to the trail to the Outpost, checking always to make site Alcen had kept up until both were tucked into bed, under Nettle and Lemonlord's watchful care.

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Song list courtesy of Hyzenthlaay! List