Chapter 18: The Plaguelands
The air was stiff and tepid, and from this height, Palla could see the great pulsing of the land below. Strewn about on the fleshy ground were piles of carrion and waste, the remainders of those who had lived the land in an earlier time. her heart beat faster. There had never been any place so different from the home she had left behind.
Palla heard a creak, and soon Pennar was at her side. Her brother was staring at the land around them in abject disgust. He was wrapped in a blanket, and he looked as though he had just woken up.
"I thought you said you'd steer us out of the scarred wasteland." Pennar complained. "Everything about this place from the view to the stench makes me sick to my stomach."
"I like it here." Palla shot back.
"But I thought this journey was about seeing new things and having new experiences. We've been here for the past two weeks." Pennar pointed out.
"It's also about stepping out of our comfort zones." Palla argued, though she couldn't help but feel she had just stepped into hers. Here she could truly see what she was made of. Here she could take risks and seek adventure, and live a life outside of the boring string of celebrations and peaceful walk through the gardens. It had seemed to her like Oriel had never let her or Pennar do anything exciting or remotely dangerous.
"Fine. Just promise me that we can see some other things soon." Pennar sighed.
"Of course." Palla said halfheartedly, suddenly distracted by the vast expanse that was appearing on the horizon. They had just reached the Wyrmwound. "Do you want to go down and get a closer look?"
"Not really." Pennar shifted his weight to take a step back from the edge of the ship, but didn't protest further. Palla was too far gone to be reasoned with, and she was staring too intently at her goal to notice the flicker of fear in her brother's eyes as he looked at her.
Dremasul was regretting his decision to travel through the Scarred Wasteland. There were better ways to reach the Windswept Plateau from the Starfall Isles, ways that didn't involve death and destruction. he had seen enough of that in his lifetime. He tried to push away the guilt that gnawed at him every time he saw the corpse of another dragon, but despite his efforts, it remained a constant presence.
He was free, for the first time since his first life. Reanimated by
a necromancer who had only given him half his soul, Dremasul had spent the last several years of his existence in a half life, becoming the personal hitman for the dragon who held half of his soul captive. The more he lived, and made connections, the more Idwallon had to hold over him, and when Dremasul's wind home had been destroyed, he had nowhere else to turn. With Dremasul's help, he had risen to power and taken over the arcane clan in which the two had lived.
By some fluke, Dremasul's other half of his soul was released when Id had been taken down by a clanmate. He was whole again for the first time in a long long time, and with nothing left to tie him to the arcane clan, he fled before anyone could turn on him and punish him for his own crimes within the clan.
Dremasul, knowing better than to look a second chance in the mouth, had decided to return to wind, to see if he could find any remainder of the clan he once lived in. If anyone, even his ex-mate, had escaped the destruction that befell it, he had to know. But he hadn't realized how sturdy being only half alive had made him. He'd had to eat less, and he could go further without resting. He was tiring out more quickly, and he was beginning to doubt he would make it out of the plaguelands alive.
That was when he saw him. The wasteland was full of bodies in varying stages of decay, but from all of his practice soul-catching for Id, he could tell the wildclaw lying unconscious a several feet away still had the spark of life in him.
Dremasul raced over to the young wildclaw's side. He looked greatly dehydrated, and he had a few talon marks that looked to be infected. It looked as though he didn't have long left.
Removing some of the trinkets and fabric that coated his body, Dramsul began tending to the wounds, and poured some water from his own drinking skin into the young wildclaw's mouth. For so long, he had been stealing souls and tearing family's apart. He could never repay what he had taken, but if he had a second chance at life, he was going to o his best to atone for what he had done to achieve it.
Dremasul spent days looking after his new ward, leaving only to hunt and to find fresh sources of water. On the dawn of the fourth day, his patient blinked open his eyes to reveal their deep, oceanic blue. He had done it. He had saved a life, for the first time in a long, long time...
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Disillusionist
Introducing Dremasul!!! This boy of mine used to be a member of my clan, until I gave him away to @
Aven in a lair purge to continue some shared lore between Dremasul and their Idwallon. I am excited to have him return, because he has always been one of my favourite dragons and I'm glad to get another chance to explore him deeper and grow his character!
I'm now back from my two week hiatus while I was traveling with family, so updates should be somewhat regularly again! I'm excited to continue this arc, though I don't think it's going to meet the deadline I had initially set so certain things are going to be happening later than I would have hoped. But that's okay, my lore and the way I run by clan is now more driven by the story than the other way around, so i am happy to wait to do certain things.
Also, now I finally get to show you Pyrite fullly dressed!
