Enstail

“Enstail?”

In the crowded market of Terraclae’s eastern quarry, Enstail turned his attention away from the plethora of knickknacks and wares being marketed towards the average passerby and towards his apprentice, Zemifari. The lanky aberration was keeping her usual pace with him, staying close in the mess of bodies the market had quickly become as soon as it had reached mid-afternoon. She glanced over her shoulder with both heads, an anxious tilt to her eye ridges.

“Is something off?” he asked.

“Mm, maybe?” She glanced over her shoulder again, this time with one head while the other looked to him for guidance. “It doesn’t feel like the Shade, but… it feels… it feels wrong.”

Enstail found them a relatively open, out of the way spot to take up residence in for the time being. He slowed to a stop, tucking his tail in close so it wouldn’t fall prey to uncaring paws, and looked in the direction his apprentice kept glancing toward. There was a pop-up rug stand, a makeshift jewelry shop, and a street food cart where a disgruntled guardian was handing over an aether cherry donut to a hungry-looking preteen tundra.

“Alright.” This was the kind of situation Ekessal training their students thrived on, an opportunity to let them lead and better understand their abilities. “Tell me what you feel.”

Zemifari stopped by him.






(stuff will get put here later but I'm lazy and writer's block is so kicking me in the butt rn)






“It’s… an individual. I feel only one string. It’s… sickly, I think. It feels wrong, off. I think whoever it’s attached to isn’t faring too well.”

He nodded, giving her an encouraging hum. It was more difficult for him to reach out and try to locate the force of ‘wrongness’ she mentioned. In such a big place as Terraclae, surrounded by dozens if not hundreds of dragons in the market alone, narrowing down the mess of emotions and energy bubbling throughout the city could have sent any well-trained Ekessal into a headspin.