Aechelys

Lore:

Aechelys had been destined to be a scholar from the moment he was born, though that was more than a passing observer would see at first glance. His parents- an odd pair, a Skydancer hailing from the Murkwood and an Imperial from the Zephyr Steps- had long struggled to conceive. They had sought the advice of healers from far and wide, spanning from the most reclusive herbalists in the Shrieking Wilds and the learned scholars of the highest regard in the Sunbeam Ruins, to even the Wyrmwound in the Scarred Wasteland, hoping that dragons who survived such unforgiving land might find a way to spread life into Rapid’s barren womb.

It was with great sadness that they made their way to the observatory, at last resorting to the wild magics of the Arcane, only to learn that not even the dragons who served the deity that had nearly wrought the end of the world not once, but three times, in his pursuit of magic so strong it could rip the fabric of the universe, could create life where life could not exist.

They made their way slowly down the mountain that held the observatory, their hearts clouded with loss. They stopped in several mountain towns along the way, staying safely tucked between other dragons at night rather than risk the dangers of nesting alone in a region that didn’t seem to follow natural laws. Others sympathized with their plight, but all repeated the same thing they had been told time and time again- there was nothing to be done when a dragon was shade-touched.

They were exhausted by the time they reached the bottom of the towering mountain. Looking up, it was hard to believe that they had ascended so high they had crossed the clouds. They paused for a moment, together, gazing one last time at what had been their last hope. Turning would mean turning their backs on a dream; it would mean turning their backs on the life they had thought they would have together. Their steps heavy and travel silent, they nevertheless eventually began the long journey back home.

As darkness approached, they had yet to come across any clans in the Starwood Strand. Beauty was beginning to dance around them, lights floating gently through the forest, creating a parody of the night-sky as the light faded. Despite the innocent nature of the phenomenon, the two dragons huddled together with suspicion, fear and anger towards the unexplainable piercing through the pain that still raged inside of them. They searched as long as they dared for other dragons but found nothing. Eventually, they settled uneasily together for the night in the ethereal light of forest. Endymion had meant to keep watch, but between the sadness that drug him down and the exhaustion of the journey, he soon found himself dragged into darkness alongside his mate.

When the dragons woke, the lights of the forest had vanished, and the air was heavy with something unrecognizable. The dancing lights had been replaced with a dark fog, eerily covering the ground of the clearing where they slept, hovering just a claw or tow above every surface, tendrils curling up into the air before vanishing. Even the trees were coated in it, and something struck as terribly wrong deep inside of Endymion as he watched. Whatever this was… it was powerful, and it was the opposite of life.

The pair watched, frozen, as a shadow seemed to materialize from the darkness in the shape of a Coatl. Her eyes were swirling pits, and the fog seemed to cling to her… no, materialize from her body. When she spoke, her voice was dark as night, a hiss directly into the ears, though she stood several feet away, watching, waiting, her eyes absorbing, cataloging the fear of the two desperate dragons in front of her.



“Children….” She whispered, “I have heard there is something I can do for you…”

Endymion listened with growing horror as a deal was struck. Try as he might to feel guilt, however, he couldn’t deny the hope that grew inside of him, nor the desperate belief that filled his mate’s eyes. He would rationalize it for years to come… but he knew, deep down, he would never be able to bring himself to regret it.

Neither dragon remembered nodding off, but when they woke, the clearing was filled with the light of day. There was no sign of what had transpired the night before, but Endymion couldn’t seem wipe the slimy feeling of the fog off his scales or from his memory.

They both looked at each other, wondering with sinking feelings if perhaps the whole thing had been some sort of dream caused by the unstable magic around them. Then, abruptly, Rapid gasped in pain. Immediately, Endymion was at her side, holding her claws with a terrible mixture of hope and fear. The fear did not last long- his mate’s labor was not long before a fully formed egg had passed from her, it’s surface shimmering with arcane pink that proved its conception in the realm.

The pair stared at it; their disbelief was overshadowed by pure joy. Rapid, despite the pain of her continued labor, started grabbing at sticks and stones and fallen leaves, anything nearby to assemble a makeshift nest while Endymion cradled it in his arms, eyes shining with tears of happiness.

With reverence, he gently lay it in the nest his mate had made, and their eyes met over it, both alight with love. They both knew what was coming next, but with the promise of a lifetime of children they would never have had, there was no regret.

When the second egg emerged, Endymion did not place it next to its sibling. Instead, he carried it silently to the other side of the clearing, as far from his mate as he could get without leaving her. He left it in the knots of the tree roots, just as he had been instructed, the words of the coatl echoing in his mind. There will be three. The price you pay for this boon is the middle child… that egg will be mine. Fail to meet these terms, and I shall ensure that our deal is… voided. In his heart, he knew that the warning had not been necessary. He would have given anything for the egg sitting in the makeshift nest next to his mate.

The third egg came quickly after that and was placed next to the first while their mother recovered. The couple was long gone by nightfall- their two eggs cradled safely in their arms, wings beating with renewed energy as they left the clearing- and everything that had happened in it- behind them.

The Coatl returned to the clearing at the same time she had arrived the previous night, in much the same manner. This time, however, the ever-present fog that had curled itself around everything with ease the night before was absent from one particular tree, it’s glowing leaves the only light source for some distance as the fog blocked out the rest.

She slinked over to the tree with a satisfied smile on her face. My, my, little one, she hissed, you are something, aren’t you?

She didn’t stay long. It would be some time before the egg would hatch, and longer still until it would retain any memory. She would return each night at the same time, watching over it, but it would not be disturbed.

No one ever found Achlys’s clearing uninvited.