Susurri

Suri blinked in the morning light, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness. Yawning widely and stretching his wings, he uncoiled himself from the branch he had been twisted around, shaking out his tail. The chill tickled along his scales, and he shivered, scrunching up his nose at the feeling. The mist was damp and unpleasant, and he hurried to get out of his little patch of forest, hoping to encounter a brighter patch of sun that he could sunbathe in for a while. Perhaps he could plan a new prank! He could still work off of the one that had been foiled yesterday...

The scream of a skydancer - it almost sounded like Andromeda- interrupted his thoughts.

He bared his teeth at the unexpected noise, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Recoiling from the direction it came from, he wrapped his wings around his torso, mind racing. That didn't sound like a normal scream. He heard real fear, real horror. He just wasn't sure he wanted to physically run in that direction. That probably wouldn't be a good idea-

But Andromeda had been kind to him. He might be able to help.

Growling, he started flying through the forest, using his tail to swing from branches to propel himself faster. The last of his morning grogginess cleared from his mind as he got closer to the scene. Dragon voices joined the rush of blood in his ears. He heard... yes, Andromeda, along with the voice of a nocturne (Weblyn? He hadn't really seen a lot of other dragons besides Andromeda and her friend yesterday.) He slowed down as he neared, snaking through the intertwined branches of the trees. When he reached the edge of the clearing, he stopped, wanting to observe before he dropped down unannounced into their midst. There didn't seem to be a terrifying monstercreaturething anywhere in the vicinity - in fact, it was mostly peaceful - so what could have elicited such a terrified shout from Andromeda?

Weblyn, Andromeda, and Champ were gathered in front of a dragons' den, talking in distressed voices. It looked like Soliloquy's- though, again, he hadn't really talked to a lot of dragons, so he couldn't be sure. Furrowing his brow, Suri leaned closer, trying to hear what Champ was saying to Andromeda, who had a haunted look etched into her features.

"...nothing to apologize for, dear, you can hardly be blamed for your sorrow."

Suri blinked, tilting his head to the side. Sorrow? About what? It was probably safe to go down there and find out, actually, now that he knew that there was no immediate danger in the area. He started to back his way down the branch, catching a few snippets of Champ's voice instructing the others as he clambered down the tree.

"...where Jovial's lair is, yes? Could you do me a favor... cup of tea... some semblance of dignity in death."

Death.

The word rung in Suri's ears like a bell, and his legs cramped, seizing as he scrabbled for purchase on the rough bark of the treetrunk. With a yelp of panic, he lost his grip, falling with a crunch to the forest floor. He lay there, panting, digesting the implications of that single word.

Death.

A sense of dread seeped through his chest, strangling him with twisted claws. Soliloquy was dead? How? How could this have happened? Was it an accident? Was it.. was it.. He swallowed, trying to catch his breath, using his arms as leverage to pushing himself into a sitting position. It must have been an accident. It couldn't have been anything else, could it? No one here would...

Was he safe? Were any of them safe?

His mind flashed back to the horrifying stories Ecarht had spoken to him in low tones after she had returned. He remembered her telling him of the first murder - of the quiet imperial - and then of her own, suffocating in clouds of smoke, struggling as she was stabbed, trying to breathe but unable to get air. He shook his head. This was too similar. Something wasn't right here. Was this a morbid game to dragons, killing and maiming innocents?

But no. It was an accident. If he repeated it enough times, he might convince himself that it was the truth.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to find out. If it wasn't an accident... well. He would have to try his best to help, before another dragon was killed in their sleep.

Pushing himself all the way up and walking into the area outside of Soliloquy's den, he addressed Champ, voice slightly shaky. "Uh- hey. I- well. I heard..." He grimaced. "I heard about Soliloquy. I was just over there, wondering what happened, and... well. I was wondering if you wanted.. assistance." He drew himself up, trying to muster all of the strength that he had. "I would like to help any way I can with this unfortunate situation, if you'll have me. I may be able to help you figure something out if poor Soliloquy's passing was... not accidental."

Darkness.

That was all that he knew, all that he saw, all that he felt. Darkness and silence, thick as a blanket, suffocating as smoke. It smothered him in painless oblivion and he floated there, motionless, eyes wide open, seeing nothing.

It was so, so dark.

All alone.

The words echoed in his mind, stirring the muted colors of his emotions, sparking something small and weak and dim. It flickered, a tiny ember of flame, defiant against the monsters in the shadows. The monsters in the forest, the monsters, the monster...

All alone. All alone. All alone.

He could suddenly see... something. Something other than darkness. It glimmered, burning away his numbness, making him feel... alive. alive again. Light. It was so beautiful. He could reach for it, could escape. He had a choice now. He could be free, free, not alone. Never alone again. But would there be anything waiting for him in the light? There had never been anybody, had there? He couldn't seem to remember. There was Ecarht, but she was in another light. This was a different light, so pure it hurt his cold, dead heart, made it want to beat again.

He reached.

A split second before his bloodstained talons met the luminance, agony sizzled cruelly through his veins and he screamed but it was lost in the dark, the light was gone, it was all gone, he wanted to cry he wanted to die but he was already dead it was so cold, all alone, all alone, all

A forest.

The stench of fish.

A glimmer of maddened eyes in the darkness. The flash of a blade.

Blood, so much blood, pouring from his throat, seeping into his scales, staining him with hate. He tried to wipe it away but he couldn't move, he was paralyzed, and all he could do was choke on his own blood and stare, stare, stare into the black face of death. And then he died. Cold. Cold and alone.

But something was different now. He felt it, melting through him like warm butter, soothing his tortured body back to life. It wasn't the pure light, but it was light, and it was warm, and he wasn't cold anymore. It was Echart's light, wasn't it? Ecarht's light. He could see Echart again. He could... breathe......

.....

Suri's eyes snapped open a second before the voice of a dragon met his ears, pupils contracting and nostrils flaring.

“Are you… a-are you there?”

It took him a moment, several, even, to actually register the fact that he wasn't dead. He didn't move, just stared up at the canopy of trees, leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. It took him several more to actually form a coherent thought, to command his muscles, move his eyes, blink to adjust them, drift them aimlessly across the clearing. The sweet scent of flowers met his nose and he breathed in. He actually breathed. He was alive.

That knocked him out of his stupor.

With a hoarse shout of surprise, he shot upwards, claws scrabbling frantically at his throat as he scrambled backward from the skydancer kneeling in front of him. Instead of the wound he expected to feel, his talons only met smooth scales and the faintest trace of a scar, wrapped around the front of his neck like a gruesome necklace. Shaking his head, trembling, he backed away from the dragon, bringing his wings in closer, curling his tail around himself, becoming as small as possible. Suri had never been a coward, but now... now he was scared. Scared that some part of him, however small, had thought himself invincible, invulnerable, and that small part of himself had been proven wrong in the worst possible way. Scared of the haunted look in the skydancers' eyes, and the way he stared at Suri like he was a ghost. The... Soliloquy.

His body lay next to where Suri's had been, lovingly positioned, fragrant flowers scattered around him.

Still trembling, still feeling so, so small, Suri raised his eyes to the skydancers' - to Requiem's. He just looked at him for a moment before swallowing, remembering how to speak. His voice came out hoarse with disuse, and still sore from... he didn't want to think about that. He wouldn't.

He coughed before addressing Requiem. "I died." A statement of fact, but still, he had to taste it, feel its significance. After a moment, he let out a small laugh, without humor, just.. awed. But then that awe turned sour as he reabsorbed the look on Requiem's face, his haunted eyes, the hints of defeat in his stance.

"You haven't caught the killer yet, have you?" Resolve hardening, Suri pushed himself up, all traces of fear gone. He looked at the sky, saw the rays of the dawning sun shooting through the sky, and then that fear was back, lightning bolts of panic crackling through him. Shoving upwards, he stumbled towards Requiem. "We have to go. We have to go. It's every night, can't you see? It's every night, and if you haven't - if you haven't -" he scrambled, tripped over Soloquiy's tail, sprawled on the ground. Shoved himself up again. Eyes wild, he half ran, half flew towards where he remembered the main clan to be, his tail dragging behind him, dread weighing heavy on his heart.

Susurri woke to the sound of Requiem's body thumping to the ground.

He sat up, eyes wild, chest heaving. It was still dark outside, the light of the morning sun just teasing the horizon outside. Sweat slicked his trembling talons as he climbed down from his perch, uncoiling himself as quietly as he could manage.

It might have just been a branch, he told himself. A broken branch, fallen from a tree. Or maybe a small bird, a little creature dropped by a hawk. Or... or...

Footsteps. He heard them, heavy and weighted, running away into the predawn light. Terror numbing his common sense, he ran toward the door and burst outside, scanning the clearing outside of his shelter for signs of an intruder.

Instead, he was met with the dead body of his friend.

He didn't think, just fell to his knees, still numb. Requiem's face was caked with white grain that looked like salt, and his throat was slit, blood still pooling, still warm, around his fallen form. Something twinged inside Suri's neck and he let out a choking gasp, bringing a talon to the scar still wrapped around his own neck.

His throat had been slit, too.

Tears did not fall, but a tsunami of emotions rose up, chief among them fear, sadness, and- disgust. Who would kill this way? So many innocent dragons, so many gruesome scenes. Who would be next? Who would be next?

He let out a manic sort of laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed, eyes glinting, a crazed kind of agony in his eyes. Flashes of That Night flickered in his mind - paralyzing pain, a knife across his neck, footsteps. Running. From him, from death. How he wished he could run from death.

His laugh quickly turned into a scream, and he poured everything he had into it, letting out the roiling emotions. Birds flocked into the air as his voice echoed back at him from the forest, sounding terrifying even to his own ears.

When he was done, he just sat, catatonic, bent over the body of Requiem, trembling as he gently cleared the salt away from the skydancer's eyes.

Suri interacting with Arlund

[singing]

"...to be a spark in twilight blues...
"singing songs of hidden truths...
"...that sparkle in a vast expanse, and swirl in a cosmic dance..."

The thump of wingbeats, horrifyingly similar to the earlier sound of Requiem hitting the hard ground, jolted Suri out of his stupor.

He had been singing the dead dragon a soothing lullaby that Eventide had taught him, meticulously removing every grain of salt from the skydancer's scales. It was a song of dreams and wishes, of belonging in the sky, of becoming a star. He felt it was fitting, dreams of the sky. He hoped wherever Requiem was now, there were no nightmares, no pain, only wishes come true.

Now, he jerked up his head, scanning the sky warily. He just barely made out the flash of Arlund's scales before the big dragon landed in front of him, a cloud of dust rolling outwards to tickle his nose. Distrust instantly rose up from his gut - but then, he didn't trust anybody now. Couldn't. Any dragon around him could be this killer. Anybody, and he couldn't afford to trust anyone but himself, or he might end up worse than the first time.

At the sound of Arlund's startled voice saying his name, he scrambled backwards a little, still cradling the skydancer's head. Irrational panic fought with his common sense as he struggled not to bolt. Again, flashes, a knife, footsteps, a knife, a fish, a knife, pain-

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He felt Arlund staring at him with some concern, but he could only shake his head, trying to push out the jumbled memories. He realized with horror that his claws were starting to push divots into the scales of Requiem's face and he yanked his arms back, wrapping them around his body.

Could he even trust himself?

At the sound of Arlund shifting his stance, leathery wings ruffling, the panic returned, stronger this time. He bared his teeth in a flash of white, flaring out his little wings. "Don't. Don't come any closer. Don't touch. He didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve to die. Don't touch him."

He realized he was being irrational, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want anybody to touch Requiem but him. He felt a morbid sense of responsibility for his death - the skydancer had been guarding him, after all. If it weren't for Suri, he wouldn't be dead.

It should have been me.

"It should have been me," he mumbled, repeating the thought out loud. He choked out a sob before cutting it back, stiffening his spine. He wouldn't cry. Crying did nothing to solve this situation. He would cry later, mourn all of these poor dragons, when everyone left was safe.

He looked back up at Arlund, still wary and still afraid, but encouraging himself to act with some semblance of normalcy. Nevermind the fact that he was cradling a corpse.

"Sorry. Just... please don't touch him, not yet. I've got to finish getting this salt off. And before you ask, I don't know how I'm alive. I just am. So that's that. And..." he took a deep breath, shaking his head, mumbling something else. "He died right outside my doorway..."

He peered up at the guardian, forcing himself to stop rambling. "You should probably get everyone else. If you're free. I heard something - heavy footsteps outside, before... before he fell on the ground. But someone else may be able to figure out what happened here. Unless you've got input. Just don't touch him. Not yet. We've got to bury him with the others, but he can't go like this."

He bent back down to his task, half immersed in a surreal haze of unreality, and started to hum the lullaby again.

[singing]

"..to wish upon a star that flies..
"with icy wings, through frozen skies,
its hidden secrets gladly shared,
that strip our empty whispers bare.."

The wind howled outside, the shutters of Suri's windows banging incessantly.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Light flickered in and out, shadows dancing with cold, white light, the gray clouds outside flashing, flickering. He simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide and glassy. His chest rose in fell in barely visible swells, air wheezing out from tired lungs.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Boom. Boom.

Like nails being hammered into their coffins.

It had cleared for him - that night, when the knife had slid across his throat, his blood had pooled bubbling on the ground. He knew who had killed him - but it didn't solve anything now. The evil had won, it seemed. So what was the point? He might as well lay here, waiting for the inevitable darkness to arrive.

Boom. Boom.

A slight echo of thunder rumbled outside, and a single flake of snow spiraled down from the sky, crystals glittering in the chill. A small mote of beauty in a sea of pain and ugliness.

He closed his eyes, unwilling to let it give him hope. Everything was over. Ecarht - he would probably never see her again. His friends, his mentors. Nights in the dining hall, days spent planning lighthearted tricks and silly little pranks. So harmless. So harmless. And as blissful sleep started to take him, he heard footsteps.

And then a voice. Champ's.

"Pack your bags. You're leaving."

Tears welled - ones of sadness, yes, but also of gratitude. He understood what Champ was doing for him, and wasn't sure he deserved it. But now that he was given a choice, he would take it. He would leave. He would escape.

But first.

Opening his eyes, pushing himself from his curled position on the floor, Suri reached for the bag that he had brought, mostly containing small keepsakes and reminders of his life back home. Opening it quietly, he pulled out the wooden sculpture he had carved the night before. It was rough, uneven in some spots, but he had done his best. A simple wooden heart, engraved with three words:

solas don saol. Light for life.

He swung the bag over his shoulder, dragged himself to his door. Opened it, and met Champ's eyes. The sadness he saw there nearly broke him, but he nodded stiffly at the imperial before placing the heart at his feet. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and small, but it held gratitude.

"I made this for you. Thank you for everything. Solas don saol. Light for life. Don't let the dark take you, my friend."

Stepping past him, he walked across the clearing. He only had one thing left to do.

He found Fable outside Riviel's door, gold glinting against the white of the snow that had started to fall. She didn't hear him coming. She didn't know he was there until he unslung his bag from his shoulder, the baubles inside clattering softly. She spun around, eyes wide. He bared his teeth at her before swinging the bag straight into her snout. She let out an oomph, and before she could react, he fluttered up and added insult to injury, smacking her across the face with his tail. A single drop of blood welled up, ruby red against her scales. He considered saying something to her, but decided she wasn't worth speaking to.

He flew away into the storm, both anger and sorrow weighing heavy on his heart.


Susurri votes for Fable

The storm was getting worse.

Suri shivered violently as cold wind whipped at his face, the edges of his scales beginning to crust with ice. Wood creaked around him as the trees struggled to stand against the gale, leaves ripping from branches, branches plummeting to the forest floor. The snow was thickening fast, blankets of white obscuring his vision.

Unable to even think about flying, he hunched closer to the ground, practically crawling forward. If he could just find some shelter, maybe-

He had to get away. He was exiled.

It wasn't safe anywhere near the others.

He continued on, his wearied breaths coating his fangs in frost.

...

He wandered in the dark.
....

Lost, too afraid to speak to other dragons, trying to figure out where to go. How would he know which direction? His memory was clouded, and it had been so long...

.....

five months later

Starving, trembling, so, so tired, and on the verge of giving up, Suri saw the dunes.

Far in the distance, the white sand sparkled in the blazing sun, arcs of electricity racing over the ground. The gray landscape of the Ashfall Waste gave way to jutting cliffs of pale stone, the seeping lava replaced by bolts of lightning and looming thunderheads. He did a double take, blinking repeatedly, eyelids heavy. Disbelievingly, he let out a laugh, his voice hoarse from disuse. How long had he wandered? It seemed it had been years. Seemingly years and years with barely any food or water, lost with no idea of the right direction.

A tear fell from his eye, tracking a path in the coat of grime on his scales, as he took another step forward. Then another. And another.

He had found his way home.