Anica

"I can’t allow you," the fae said, turning down its pale frills as the guardian before her pleaded. It was a tortured beast, exposed wounds trying to coexist in the pestilent area around them.
"You don’t have a choice in this. I choose you as my charge." Anica said, nearly growling at the small dragon. Drangea was tired of quarrelling, flying up to her face.

"Your life span is much too long. When I die, you will lie forever depressed. I don’t want that." Drangea said, but her plea fell on deaf ears. "I wish to protect you." Of course, a guardian would not think that far. Drangea sighed, looking around before getting an idea.

"Then You will learn a song. Yes, my song. You shall forever remember it, and I will still be your charge."
Anoca was about to object, but the compromise would do. For she was right; the memory of Drangea would live on, in those notes. She hesitantly agreed, and Drangea’s heart rised with relief.

It was like the wind went still for them. Anica listened intently as Drangea started. And was amazed, for it was not every day one heard a fae change its monotone vocals. It was simple, technically easy enough for Anica to remember. And repeat. Over and over again. The two then sang together, sealing the melody as Anica took her oath.

…

The tiny frilled creature laid in Anica’s palm. One was victorious from the wretched infection, and Anica would trade the victory with Drangea for anything in the world. Through grit teeth, Anica sang their song one last time before only the memory would live on.