Nike

The Abiding Boneyard is a place of eternities. If one dies here, here one remains.

In the years before the Awakening of the Nocturnes, I was young. At the time, the Clerisy was still the Order, and the Order itself was in infancy. Then I was under the tutelage of the Father Lacesso well within the borders of the Scarred Wasteland.

The Wasteland occasionally chooses to teach its own lessons, and this one occurred when the Father and the Idol Mother made their cyclic Pilgrimage to the Wyrmwound to seek out the Puissant Plaguebringer. I was too weak then to make the trek across the Boneyard, through the Rim, to the heart of our land that beats strong and foul. So in the Borderlands I remained.

I was left in the care of the Sukset Clan who lived on the eastern edge of the Wandering Contagion in a lively, though repellant copse of vegetation known as Sionu Grove. The Sukset Clan was originally of Shadow, though they had taken unerringly to the blood of this land. Still, they preferred the thick coverage of the Contagion, which I gather reminded them strongly of the thickets of the Tangled Wood. Food was plentiful, shelter was given to me, and the distant struggles of my hatchling times were far away behind me.

The adolescents of the Clan were given a particular challenge to prove themselves that struck me as rather simple, but surprisingly intriguing. There was a cesspit of an oasis some distance out in the Boneyard desert that was the sole spawning ground of a particular sub-species of the Tokay Gecko often found in the east of Wasteland. The challenge was to locate this oasis, and bring back the Gecko spawn as proof, but via groundwork only. No flight was allowed, and the adults would monitor and keep track of the dragonet by air. Only a single dragon was allowed to attempt the challenge at a time, to prevent interference by competitors (which I thought made the whole thing a bit dull).

Despite being a stick thin Skydancer who was barely able to utilize her magic, I had some advantages. The children of the Sukset Clan had never been left alone in the Wasteland to fend for themselves as a hatchling with her egg down barely dry, and unlike them who had lived settled lives, I had traveled through parts of the Boneyard quite often with the Father.

In the end I insisted on taking the challenge and I succeeded quite easily. The whole thing is barely worth the mention, except for what occurred on my return trip.

Most dragonets take two days for the journey, spending the night at the Gecko-spawn and returning the following day in sunlight. While the Sukset Clan preferred the shadows themselves, the adults took no chances with losing a dragonet to the Boneyard in the dark. The chances of the monitor losing track and of the child getting lost were too great.

I, however, made the journey out in about half a day, and decided to risk returning before the darkness grew settled. In the slanting light of the setting sun, the dust hovered thick above the horizon. It grew darker as I approached Sionu Grove through a shallow ravine that may once have been a river bed.

As I walked, I began hearing approaching footsteps coming towards me from down the ravine, and wondered if some of the Clan had come out to greet me. It was still a ways from the Grove, but perhaps they were worried, I thought.

But as I listened closely and continued walking, gecko spawn sloshing in their jar in the satchel around my neck, something disquieting came to me. There was no presence to the approaching dragons that I could feel, despite the sound of numerable footsteps. I paused and peered into the dusty fog, but saw nothing. While I was not strongly in control of my magic yet, I was highly sensitive, especially surrounded by Plague turf. I still felt no one there.

The footsteps were calm and unhurried, nothing that indicated this was a party traveling purposefully in stealth. It was also strange that they could so well hide their presences without bothering to hide the sound of their footsteps.

However, as I did not detect any hostile intentions, and my Monitor had made no signal, I continued on my way, warier than before. At this point, I did not feel unsafe, as I was still young enough to be assured of the strength of the adults as my protectors. If I cried out or made clear my distress, I was sure that my Monitor and the adults of the Clan would rush to intervene.

As I continued down the ravine, the footsteps grew louder and closer. I wasn't trying to hide my presence, surely a normal clan would have called out a greeting by now, I thought. But I was young, alone, and outnumbered so I was definitely not going to make first contact. As I thought this, the first forms began appearing in the dusty shadows.

I watched, unblinking, as five dragons appeared from the mist: two Snappers, a Guardian, a Coatl, and a Skydancer. Their shapes were perfectly normal, their pace still casual and unhurried.

Undeterred, I marched on. But my pace slowed before I froze, four feet planted still and solid on the earth.

Dread sunk deep into my bones. They still had no presence.

More horrifying still, their eyes were dull. There was no trace or sign of any elemental magic. Instinctively I knew, as every dragon knows, that our lives are bound to magic that the elements of our gods gives us life. I was profoundly disturbed.

The small clan drew nearer to me, no break in their strides, faces stolid. Their eyes stared straight forward, but it was as if they did not see me at all.

Bit by bit I catalogued more strangeness. While their forms were solid, their coloring was oddly faded. I might have thought it was the dust in the air, if they did not appear more and more translucent the closer they came. All five were clothed, if not armored, and were loaded with traveling packs, yet they made no sound. No whisper of fabric on scales, no jangle of metal on armor, no belabored breaths as they walked under their loads.

No sound at all, except their footsteps.

Their footsteps....

I glanced down at their feet, and started into motion. I scrambled away from their path, limbs shaking and juddering. I pressed close to the side of the ravine, trembling, eyes still stuck on their forms.

Their hovering forms. All five dragons walked as if the earth they walked on was higher than what was there. And yet, the sound of their feet striking the ground still rang out and echoed against the ravine walls.

They drew level with where I shuddered, braced against the wall. Still they made no indication of noticing me. That is, until the Skydancer's head suddenly turned towards me.

She looked straight into my eyes and opened her mouth as if to let out a cry, but no sound issued forth. Her face contorted into a horrifying mask of terror, exhaustion, and long-suffering pain.

The expression was gone in an instant, her face smoothing out as she returned to blankly staring forward.

The ghastly clan continued on, undisturbed, down the ravine from which I came, slowly disappearing into the dark and dust. I watched, tense, until they were gone from my sight.

After a few frozen moments, I crept towards the center of the ravine, seeking to satisfy my curiosity. But there were no tracks in the hard earth. No sign of anything being disturbed. Nothing but the scratches in the dirt I left when I scrabbled away in fear.

With another glance in the direction they left in, I bolted back towards the Grove, shaken to the core.

I did not mention my ghostly encounter to anyone, but with time, my fear faded and curiosity took its place. In the remainder of my time with the Sukset Clan I would often make or find reasons to go out into the Boneyard and spend hours scouring the ravine.

In that whole time I only saw the ghostly procession twice more, both occurring in the falling dusk. Every occurrence was the same, the same dragons, the same order, the same blank stare into the heart of the Wasteland.

Everything repeated, except for one thing: each time, the Skydancer's eyes would find mine, no matter where I waited and watched. She would shriek silently with that same rictus of fear and desolation upon her face.

Eventually the Father returned, and my time with the Sukset Clan ended. In the years following, I pondered these experiences often. Those dragons must have perished attempting to cross the desert, over-prepared and under-prepared in their own ways. Dying without gain is the ultimate sin against the Creed of the Plaguebringer. For their most ultimate failure in the land of the survivor, their divine punishment is to repeat forever their failed expedition.

Someday I may return to Sionu Grove by way of the Boneyard, and perhaps see their journey once more. Now when I walk the desert, occasionally I will wonder which of the bones lying at my feet are theirs.

The Abiding Boneyard is eternal. If you die here, here you will remain.