Ourea

Ourea is the clan's tie to its neighbours in the Southern Icefield. As it is built on one of the islands that span the ocean between the two flights, many of the fortress' visitors are ice dragons. And since much of the clan barely knows how to be polite to other arcane dragons, having someone who knows the formalities of the frozen south is quite handy. The Icefield's etiquette isn't complicated, but Clan _______ is a place where you're either totally ignored or treated like you've been here for years and can be trusted to make sure nothing catches fire while the researchers go get lunch. If a visitor doesn't go home insulted, mildly singed, or both, Ourea considers it a small miracle.

However, making sure her clanmates don't embarrass themselves more than is strictly necessary isn't Ourea's favourite pastime. It's just something she finds herself doing so that she doesn't tear out her own frills in frustration. Hopefully, they'll eventually realize that most dragons aren't willing to serve as test subjects for whatever absurd experiment they're performing today. Ourea has convinced most of the clan to ask permission first, but every once in a while she has to fly screaming out a window to make sure a tundra doesn't eat any strangely glowing food they're offered.

When she isn't protecting her flight's travellers from arcane's bizarre form of creativity, Ourea has creative pursuits of her own. But less dangerous ones. Half sculptor and half mage, she fashions her creations out of ice. She doesn't need any tools; her magic can both mould the general shape of her art and carve out the finest of details. Ourea also likes to shape walls of ice around anyone who gets on her nerves. Oddly enough, that tends to make her more upset than the one trapped in a bubble of ice. She's not great at creating ice, only shaping it. Creating a wall around a larger dragon requires the use of surrounding ice, which more often than not is one of her own sculptures. Those who annoy Ourea will just have to wait until the ice melts enough to break free, because she'll be off sulking about her wasted effort somewhere instead of helping them.

The sculptures that don't end up weaponized against Ourea's clanmates are impressive, although they wouldn't be anything special in the Southern Icefield. Her skills have nothing against those of master ice sculptors, so Ourea's had to use the advantages of moving father north to make her art truly stand out. To be specific: having a bunch of arcane friends.

Ice dragons can enchant ice so that it doesn't melt. But arcane dragons can do so much more. Ustasi can make Ourea's statues move around at her command, the artificial creatures and shapes moving at the spiral's rapidly changing whims. Alas, the statues only follow Ustasi's command, and Ustasi tends to get distracted, accidentally sending them careening into walls or other dragons. Either way, the statues get shattered, and Ustasi gets pelted with snowballs.

The magic that Ourea's more fond of is something that she accomplished with the help of Kushiel. The ice that she uses for the most special of her projects glows with an otherworldly light, a plethora of colours trapped swirling below the frozen surface. The statues will eventually melt due to her ice magic wearing off, so when Ourea is providing decorations for other clans' events she assures them that nothing dangerous will be released from within. Yes, arcane magic can be surprisingly deadly, but in this case she really is using nothing but light. No refunds though, just in case something does happen.

---

---

Ourea originally travelled north from her home in the Southern Icefields because of a dream that only an arcane dragon could make reality. A dream of using the magic of the Isles to warp the rules of nature. But not in a dangerous way; Ourea only had the creation of something beautiful in mind. Simply put: she wanted to trap an aurora in ice. She could use it to make the most beautiful ice sculptures ever seen, works of art that positively glow with a miraculous light. Ourea knew she wasn't masterfully skilled, but such a material would make her and her art famous regardless.

Of course, Ourea was aware that an aurora was nothing but lights in the sky and not actually a physical object. But that hadn't stopped arcane dragons before! She'd heard tales of them doing things significantly more impossible than what she was looking to do, so she wasn't discouraged by something as trite as the laws of physics. All she needed were some powerful enough mages. Also an unsuspecting aurora. Those were plentiful in the Southern Icefield, but Ourea knew that if she went too far north there wouldn't be any more.

Luckily, she wouldn't have to go very far north. Close to the border where ice magic gives way to the Arcanist's influence sat a garishly pink fortress, which served as the usual first stop for ice dragons travelling into the rest of Sornieth. Most dragons of Ourea's flight never stayed there for more than a night or two; they would either fly further into the Isles after a short rest or find the magic they needed there and head back home.

Ourea hoped she would be in the second group. Auroras could still be seen on this island, but if she couldn't find a capable enough mage here she'd have to convince someone from the mainland to travel back south with her. Hovering outside the huge doors that marked the entrance to the fortress, Ourea mentally prepared herself for whatever arcane eccentricities she'd find inside. Finding a magic user was the current goal; she'd figure out how to convince them to help later. The hunt was on!

But it wasn't Ourea's hunt.

---

Nearby, another fae was on the prowl. Ourea heard him coming, the telltale sound of wingbeats alerting her to the dragon behind her. She spun around, looking for nearby water to shape an ice wall out of. All she saw was the mysterious other fae.

In one hand he held a number of sharp needles, and in the other what looked like some weird dead bird. It had greyish-blue feathers and was about the size of her head, but Ourea couldn't make out where its wings or head might be.

"Try this on for size!" the fae suddenly said, in a much friendlier voice than Ourea expected from someone throwing a bird at her face. She dove to the ground and the bird soared above her, floating much more gracefully than a dead thing had any right to.

Looking back up at her assailant, Ourea noticed that his frills were drooping and he was quite distraught about what he'd just done. She heard some sharp ringing sounds as he dropped the needles on the floor before flying next to Ourea to help her to her feet.

"I'm very sorry about that," the fae said, "I thought you were Kepriel. She was going to model this fantastic new hat pattern I've been working on."

"It's fine," Ourea groaned, "Though maybe you shouldn't throw things at your guests next time." She looked back at the impromptu projectile, and, okay, maybe it was actually a hat. Or a pile of feathers shaped vaguely like a hat.

Meanwhile, the other fae had gathered up his dropped sewing needles. "The name's Kushiel," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He offered Ourea his hand that wasn't holding a bundle of needles.

Out of politeness, Ourea shook his proffered claw. "Ourea," she answered. She wasn't really in the mood to speak with this impetuous tailor, though she noticed he did have those pink eyes that marked him as an arcane dragon. May as well ask, she thought, it'll only be weirder if I have to come back and ask if he can help me later.

"So, I was looking for an arcane dragon to help me with something," she began, trying to explain that she wanted to capture an aurora without sounding like a fool. Kushiel listened to her entire story, but even before she had finished Ourea could tell by the look of his crest that he wasn't going to have good news for her.

"Sorry, it just wouldn't work," Kushiel began. "Regardless of whether it's possible or not, you wouldn't be able to look at it. To be able to see it, you'd have to let the light escape, and then logically you wouldn't have it anymore."

Ourea mentally cursed her foolishness. That should have been obvious, if she'd just thought about it instead of blindly chasing a ridiculous dream. This entire trip here had been a waste, but a least it hadn't been more than two weeks' flight. "Well, thank you for listening to me," she said, frills set to sulk mode. "I hope–"

"However," Kushiel continued, dusting off the hat that had fallen on the floor and not paying any attention to Ourea's easily shattered dream, "I have an alternative idea for you. Have you ever heard of a rainbow epiptite?"

Confusion was clear in Ourea's crest. "No?"

"It's odd sort of bug," Kushiel added, "About as long as my forearm, four wings, quite shiny..."

"Still no," Ourea said. She couldn't fathom what he was getting at.

"Never heard of them? Really? Well my point is, at some point in their life cycle, on a night with an aurora, they fly incredibly high up into the sky and dance underneath it, magically glowing with a similar light."

Now things were making sense to Ourea.

"Then," Kushiel continued, "they die. And their bodies fall to the ground, disintegrating before they ever reach it due wind resistance."

"What."

"On nights where there's a lot of them, we sometimes get a light sprinkling of rainbow dust falling from the sky. It's quite beautiful."

Somehow, Ourea wasn't surprised that the Starfall Isles were a place where bug dust raining from the sky wasn't an unusual form of weather. But she didn't want to think of the implications of that for too long and got straight to the point. "Are you suggesting that you'd be able to catch one for me?"

"No," said Kushiel. "They're much to fast for even a spiral to catch. And even if you could catch a dead falling one, they disintegrate at the touch."

"Oh!" Ourea butted in. "But if I freeze one, it won't be able to break apart!"

"Exactly!" While the two fae might not have had expressive voices, any dragon that saw them at that moment would have been able to guess their crest positions represented excitement. "And by some blessing of the Arcanist, we get auroras here nearly every night. If you're willing, we could even try to catch some epiptites tonight."

"Deal," Ourea said without hesitation, "But you're going to need to show me where to get some buckets of water."

---

That night, Ourea flew to where Kushiel said he'd meet her. It wasn't hard to find; the spindling reach of the pink chalcedony tower was visible from anywhere on the island. But it was nowhere near as tall as Kushiel had implied. Maybe he had poor vision, because Ourea could see its top without any problem. There wasn't any decoration or ornamentation to it, just a solid column that eventually gave way to a clear night sky and the brilliant blues and greens of an aurora sparkling far above.

Kushiel had beat her there. He was sitting on the ground next to two metal buckets of water, and appeared to have been weaving a scarf as he waited. The finished section of the scarf was already looped around his neck, and when he saw Ourea flying towards him he effortlessly used his sewing needles to fasten the incomplete end to his tunic.

"The stars are bright," he said. "Are you ready?"

"May I ask a question first?" Ourea said instead of answering. She'd had half a day to develop misgivings about working with a complete stranger who hadn't even asked for payment. "Why are you so willing to help me?"

For a split second, Ourea thought she saw feelings of being insulted flash across Kushiel's crests, but if he took offence to what she'd said he laughed it off immediately. "Are they not as friendly down south in the tundra?" he asked. Kushiel didn't wait for a response. "But to be fair, you'll be the one doing most of the work, and it's not as if I'm getting nothing out of this. Hopefully, we'll catch enough epiptites that I can keep a few to grind up and make pigments and dyes out of. A glowing, prismatic cloak would be dazzling, don't you think?"

"I suppose so." Ourea was too busy imagining what her own sculptures would like like to pay much attention to the tailor's plans. He seemed sincere enough, and that was what mattered. Ourea grabbed one of the buckets and looked up at the chalcedony tower. It was maybe four metres across, and had no entrances anywhere to be seen. "So, we need to go to the top of this?" she asked.

"Indeed. I believe it's tall enough that the epiptites will still be intact when they reach us up there. We could fly even higher, of course, but I'd rather have somewhere to rest. We could be waiting all night."

"We'd best get going then." Ourea grabbed her bucket, and took flight. Kushiel followed not very far behind. She heard him grunt with effort as he took to the air, and had to agree with the sentiment. These buckets were clearly designed for a larger dragon, and Ourea needed both arms to lift it.

As they ascended, Ourea took the opportunity to examine the tower's design. While most of it was made of unmarked pink chalcedony, just like the rest of the fortress, there were periodic rings of runes carved into the stone. By the light of the stars, Ourea could just barely make out the runes. She might not have known much about arcane magic, but she did recognize a few of the runes from lairs back in the Icefield. They were used in spells designed to keep structures stable, so that they didn't collapse under the force of a blizzard. It made sense for them to be here too. This tower would probably topple in a stiff breeze otherwise.

It only took a minute or two for the fae to fly to the top of the tower. Well, to fly to what Ourea thought was the top of the tower. Once they were there, it was clear the only the pink chalcedony ended. Thin, arched supports were built ever taller, each covered in more enchanted runes. Up in the night sky, Ourea could make out a hole in the aurora, meaning that there must be another solid part to the tower way up there.

As Kushiel caught up to her, Ourea realized she'd put down her bucket of water. Lugging this much water around was pretty tiring for a small dragon, so having found somewhere to land she took the opportunity for a breather. Kushiel perched beside her, looking more tired than she was.

"What is this tower for anyways?" Ourea asked him.

"It's a bogsneak named Aeric's personal project. He keeps building it taller for some reason known only to himself... whenever he can be bothered to fly materials all the way to the top."

"Will he mind that we're using it?"

"Definitely." Kushiel tossed a few bird feathers that had been lying at this level off the edge of the tower and watched them begin their slow descent to the surface. "But we won't need to worry about him, he's fast asleep at this hour. Everyone uses this tower when he's not around, so if we get in trouble it'll be with somebody who's set up a telescope at the top or the like, not Aeric himself."

Ourea nodded in understanding, and grabbed her pail. Together, she and Kushiel flew higher and higher, passing the solid part of the tower she'd seen from below before long. It was a disc of solid chalcedony, heavily carved with runes and glowing faintly with arcane magic. Ourea didn't bother to take a closer look at it, because she was too shocked by the fact that the tower went even higher, once again with nothing but a hollow frame supporting something higher up. It would be a long flight ahead of them.

The two continued in this manner, taking breaks to rest on every fourth chalcedony disc that they passed. Ourea noticed that while the discs appeared identical, the architecture of the supports wasn't consistent. Sometimes they were arched, sometimes triangular, and occasionally they were nothing but a few bars pointing straight upwards, as if the builder had decided they wanted to use the fewest materials possible and was willing to rely on magic for the whole 'structural stability' thing. She asked Kushiel about it, but apparently he'd never paid much attention to how exactly the irrationally tall tower in his home clan was being built. Was this considered normal to arcane dragons?

She never took a few seconds to ask Kushiel that, even though it took what felt like an hour to reach the top of the tower. When they finally reached the top, she threw down her bucket and collapsed onto the welcoming stone slab, grateful for the fact that she wouldn't have to carry any more water. The bucket flipped over when it landed, but Ourea had frozen the water in both buckets a while back to prevent spillage, and so disaster was averted. Shortly afterwards, Kushiel fell belly-first onto the centre of the slab, and considered never getting back up again.

Eventually, Kushiel realized that he'd never finish weaving his scarf if he died of exhaustion up here, and so he struggled back onto his feet. "Would you mind reminding me why we lugged these two shade-cursed buckets up here again?" he asked Ourea. "I have half a mind to throw mine off the tower and let it carry itself up here next time."

Ourea peered over the edge of the tower, trying to make out any details of the fortress below. At night, it looked like nothing but a pink blob in an endless sea of darkness. She tried to imagine what would happen if Kushiel threw a bucket of solid ice over the edge, and could only conclude that it would become a deadly projectile by the time it reached the bottom.

Realizing she hadn't answered his question, Ourea turned back to Kushiel. "If you want me to ice some epiptites, I need to have something to freeze them with."

Kushiel's crest ruffled in understanding, and the two fae sat atop the tower for a while. It really was beautiful up here, surrounded by nothing but stars and a twisting aurora far above. Being able to enjoy this sight without putting forth the effort to fly was novel to Ourea. For the first time in her life, she considered that maybe it would be better for her to live somewhere other than the Icefield.

But however scenic it was up here, she wasn't accomplishing anything. She turned back to Kushiel and asked, "So, what will one of these epiptites look like, anyways?"

Only then did she notice that Kushiel was wrapped up in his clothes and half-finished scarf. It hadn't even occurred to her that since he wasn't an ice dragon, the cold at this altitude would chill him to the bone. But he wasn't frozen yet, as he was mumbling something to himself and intermittently glowing pink, which Ourea guessed was Kushiel repeatedly casting some soft of warming spell.

"Just freeze any oddly glowing thing you see falling from the sky," Kushiel answered, before going right back to casting his magic.

"Like that?" Ourea asked, pointing at a drop of blue-green that appeared to trickle down the twinkling backdrop of stars.

"Exactly like that."

Ourea focused her magic and a jet of ice launched out of the nearby bucket. It soared out across the starry void, with Kushiel not too far behind. "Okay, not exactly like that!" he yelled as he flew, "How do you expect me to catch that one?"

Focused on the art of iceshaping, Ourea paid no attention to Kushiel's plight. She was more concerned with getting the ice to the epiptite before it fell out of sight. Feeling the ice as it flew through the air, she carefully wrapped it around the falling bug, smoothing out the forming sphere of ice to ensure even coverage. Only once she was satisfied that it was good and caught did Ourea realize it was a good thirty metres away from the tower and rapidly disappearing into the darkness below.

Then it suddenly vanished from sight. Immediately, Ourea fell right back into sulking mode. She'd hadn't been thinking, she had needed to pick one that was closer to the tower, there wouldn't be enough water for a second try, and there was no way she was flying any more buckets up here tonight. Ourea was about to toss the mostly empty bucket off the tower in frustration when she saw the glowing light reappear.

"A little help here?" Kushiel yelled. "This ice is heavy!" Somehow, he'd managed to fly out there and catch it. The tailor was faster than he looked. Ourea flew as quickly as she could to help him, and together they carried the frozen insect to the tower's top. In her haste she'd used three or four times as much ice as was necessary, and could barely make out the shape of the epiptite within the glowing sphere. But she'd caught it!

Immediately after putting it down, Ourea froze the sphere to the stone slab. She probably shouldn't have made it perfectly round, but the force of habit from practicing to do so was hard to break. After taking a few exaggerated breaths, Kushiel hopped over to the ice to take a look at what they'd caught.

He tapped his claw on the glowing ice few a times, admiring the glowing rainbow of colours within. Being frozen, the epiptite was unable to complain about the abuse. "You're beautiful," Kushiel said to it. "And you'll make an even more beautiful pigment once you've been crushed to dust, won't you?" He turned back to look at Ourea. "Do you think we can catch another?"

"Yes, but only one," Ourea replied. "There's no way I'm going to carry multiple of these back down."

They caught the second epiptite with far less incident, as it was kind enough to die directly above the tower. Kushiel's quick thinking with some levitation magic prevented the ice ball from shattering on impact, and then the two only had to think about getting back down. Fortunately for Kushiel, who had to be persuaded not to attempt to sleep overnight at the top, the trip down was much easier, especially after Ourea tore most of the extraneous ice off the frozen insects.

Later, Ourea would find that the powdered insects were more radiant than she could have imagined, and by mixing just a little bit into water before freezing it she could create ice sculptures that glowed even more wonderfully than she had dreamed of. But with Kushiel using some of it to make his own prismatic dyes, the two epiptites they'd caught would last much longer than a month.

Which meant one thing. If Ourea wanted access to the pigment, she would have to stay there, on this island where bug dust rained from the sky at night and you could apparently build whatever sort of impractical structure you felt like and nobody would care. But Ourea was alright with that. There were worse places to live, and she'd found the dragons who lived there to be nice enough, if more than a bit odd. And admittedly, it was nice to have weather patterns other than cold and freezing to death. (Though she might never get used to things other than rain and snow falling from the sky.)