Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
My claws.
​
Chaceledon didn’t hesitate. He missed his claws, his shimmering copper weapons. He remembered how it felt having them twisted free with frozen tongs. He remembered the fear of that memory as though it were yesterday.

The wraith pulled them out of my hands with iron tongs he had frozen in water much like this. It was the moment I lost hope of ever leaving him. Even if I returned…it’s a scar that would never be forgiven by other dragons.
​
Gods, the shame of it. Being declawed like an unruly house cat and thrown to care for the Volkers. It had taken years for them to truly heal and stop burning.

I want to know if she will truly be alright with me. I would never ask her to abandon her people, but every day she comes closer to my culture she risks her people. My people are…petty. They would burn each other’s fields and farmers over bad rice at dinner or slights with makeup. It’s not mad to think someone would burn the Inizae to ashes to hurt us.

I can’t have that happen.
Even if it means losing her.
It would shatter her if she lost her family because of mine. I know what it’s like to lose everything.

_____________________________________________
​
Rheinhard resisted the urge to cover the opal on his breastbone.

I can’t make that decision for six hundred men. There are some who would accept without thinking. There are others who would fight you for suggesting it.
No.

Besides…there is something I want to live for now. The chance to break the cycle.​
 
You would have your claws restored, even if it means you are more likely to hurt your beloved?
Have you not, in some moments, been grateful that they were gone?​

As Chaceledon spoke of his concerns for Seteta and the Inizae, though, the warmth and light gentled, Abtatu wrapping around the dragon's shoulders in a comforting embrace.

It is not the fate of your kin to destroy the Inizae.
If the Inizae are threatened simply for spite, I will defend them.
Do not presume, though, what might shatter Seteta.
She is stronger than you know.​


Abtatu felt Rheinhard's unease, and pulled back from examining the spell on him, though there was amusement as the human alluded to the Inizae priest.

The two of you will be well-matched as mates.
But be patient with him.
Aetes likes to savor things slowly.​

As for the Well...

There is something I can do, that is not outright removal of the Well.
Those who desire to be at rest... I can make it so for them.​

And with that, everything around Rheinhard shifted, and Abtatu pulled him into the heart of the Well. The floating lights Abtatu summoned forward, and as each Volker materialized, Abtatu's form shifted from that warm, all-encompassing light to a... fairly non-descript Inizae.

This is the Heart of the Well.
Seteta has been here before.
And these... these are the imprisoned souls of your ancestors.​
 
Well yes…some moments.
​
Chaceledon supposed the god had a point, but he hated seeing his claws gone. He hated the chunk missing from his calf muscle. He hated the scars down his thighs and back. He hated all the imperfections.

I don’t think you understand. When I was ten thousand years old I could name every measurement on my body. Eight inch ankles, eleven inch calves, thirty eight inch waist…Don’t judge me, I had a pastry phase. Six inch wrists. Six! I was the envy of every dragon my age. Now I have such ugly scars on my calves I daren’t swim. I have that hideous chunk missing from my ribs, my back, my arms. These litigation marks on my wrists! If I had the magic I would wipe it all away. I wasn’t just beautiful. I was breathtaking.
​
Chaceledon bit his lip. He knew Seteta was strong. He was still grateful that the god would defend her people.

I wanted to ask…why endure their presence in Pedeo? Why not appear to Persian and demand them back? Even he can’t stand against a god.

_________________________________________
​
Rheinhard looked around the heart of the Well, the lights. The sound of the glass. Terror wound around his heart.

No. I am not meant to be here.
​
He looked around at each man standing there, as each materialized. He knew a few of them who would like to leave. He could point them out. No. They were all leaving together. All of them.

Abtatu. Take me out of this place. We will leave together or we will not leave at all. The next generation will be given the task of ending this. I am too old. But it is our curse to break, not yours.​
 
Abtatu listened, heard the insecurity behind all of Chaceledon's words, and the air filled with amusement at I don't think you understand.

There is no judgement here except your own, Chaceledon.
If all your scars were gone, would you truly be content?
Or would you become obsessed with another form of perfection?
Do you truly wish to turn back the clock, and become who you were before you were forced away from your kin?
Do you truly despise everything you have become?​

The warm light seemed to sigh sadly at Chaceledon's question about Persian.

I could.
But many of the Inizae there would resent me for it.
And would it truly end Persian's obsession?
The issue is not solely Persian's enslavement of the Inizae, but his disregard for free will in general.
​
Abtatu's presence began to recede then, though a final wave of warmth washed over Chaceledon from head to toe, and he would feel a heat begin to build in his fingertips. It would start gentle and low, slowly building until it was hotter than even a dragon thought it might bear.

It is time for you to return.
Your claws have been restored.
You are a dragon, after all.
How will you protect your beloved without them?
​
A shocking chill would wash over him, but warmth bloomed through his torso.

Do not be afraid of the cold. It is simply to pull you back into your body.​

Then Chaceledon was pushed out of the water, and onto the far shore. A temple acolyte, dressed in similar brown linen garb as Rehema and Aetes wore when they entered, but with only a narrow band of gold embroidery around the collar, offered Chaceledon a linen towel to dry off with, and then handed him his dry clothing and a thick blanket made of camel and goat hair.

"You may wait here for the rest, and the high priestess," the acolyte said, gesturing to a nearby seating area surrounded by warming braziers and piled with cushions. "Warm yourself. Minor use of magic is permitted, but do not do anything that would alter the temple itself."


Just because the wraith did not intend for you to be here does not mean you shouldn't be here.
The Heart resides within you, after all.

Do not be afraid.​

Abtatu reached out toward Rheinhard, but did not touch him. Abtatu's palm hovered before the human's chest, and Rheinhard would feel the terror calm, his heart stop racing quite so frantically. The feelings were still there, just not as intensely.

Even if it is your curse, you do not have to break it alone.
​
Abtatu gestured toward the Volker's souls. Each of them was experiencing the same things as Rheinhard had in Abtatu's presence, though not exactly the same. There was no confusion, no murmuring of questions.

There is still something I can do.
Their souls are splintered.
I can make them whole again.
​
Abtatu turned back to Rheinhard then, eyes sparkling with bemusement.

And you... the years lost to the early, untimely deaths of your ancestors.
Would you like to have them?​
 
With my scars gone I would be perfection once again. I don’t regret what has happened to my soul. Loving the Volkers has taught me more than I would have dreamed and I don’t regret a second of it. Even their deaths. But to have my beauty restored to me would wipe away the claws of that evil bastard who took it. With it, his trophies mean nothing. With my beauty, I could walk in front of him bare and tell him he was so inconsequential not even scars remained.
​
Chaceledon listened. He could accept the god’s gripes with Persian. The burning began in his fingertips, and he jerked as if to pull his hand away. That was a new sensation. He was a dragon. Dragons didn’t burn. Then the cold was back, clawing at his skin. He was pushed out of the water, and he toweled off the water. The blanket he waved away. He wasn’t a mammal, there was no heat to trap. Instead he plunged his arms straight into the braziers and washed his face with the burning coals. Blessed heat! He brushed the ash from his skin and sat, warming the stone around him to the point it made the air smell of warm stone.

Then he examined his hands. Claws. Beautiful, inch long claws! As hard as diamond and a lovely dusty copper color. He set both hands on the stone to hear the satisfying click. He said a small thank you to Abtatu, and curled up in the heat admiring them.

________________________

How are they splintered? The sleep they experience here? Do not let them know. The Well is structured this way for a reason…and it is beyond my understanding. It may be Oor did this because it would ruin them to know. As for the years they lost…give them to Seteta. Give her the gift of living long enough to see her children grow. I am used to being a slave. I am used to the fact I will age and die, and that not everything can be solved for me. At most, a hundred years more would satisfy me.
​
Rheinhard looked down briefly. He did wish for a great many things he would never say. Peace and family. To never have to touch his knives again to defend himself or kill another. His dreams were simple; to fold himself against his mate and night, and wake to keep a household in the morning.
 
Do you need to be perfection for that? Abtatu whispered into Chaceledon's mind as the dragon warmed himself in the coals. Would it not be more powerful to stand before the wraith with the scars and show him that he no longer affects you?

It was not much longer before Seteta was pushed out of the water. The acolyte was hardly paying attention to her, busy gawking over to the side. Seteta took the towel before she looked over and bit back a laugh. Then she frowned for a moment.

"Where is Ausar?" she asked. "The first one who came out?"

"He has already gone deeper into the temple," the acolyte answered distractedly. "To the archives."

"Ah," Seteta murmured, stepping away as she shook out the towel.

She flipped her head over and gently blotted her hair, then wrapped the blanket around herself, clutched her abaya in one hand, and padded over quietly to Chaceledon.

"You have soot on your nose," she giggled, then moaned gratefully at the feel of the warm stone beneath her feet before raking her eyes down his body. "May I join you?"


Rheinhard didn't have to speak his desires for Abtatu to see them, and Abtatu as an Inizae smiled.

I can do better than another hundred years.​

Abtatu reached over and pressed an index finger to Rheinhard's forehead. Heat would bloom across Rheinhard's skin from that point, spreading across his face and head then down his body, to fingertips and toes.

The youth that was stolen from you.
And whatever mate you bond with, your life span will match.​

Abtatu gestured toward the others then.

When Seteta spoke with Nestor here, he was already distressed.
Gods can do what wraiths cannot.
They will not be distraught with the full knowledge of it.
The truth might bring them a measure of peace.​

He turned back to Rheinhard then.

Restoring them to wholeness will also return the memories that Oor erased.
The memories still exist in their spirits.
Are you sure losing those is what you desire?​
 
Chaceledon looked up at Seteta and smiled. He held up his hands, showing her the curved weapons Abtatu had restored to him. He welcomed her against his side, making sure the stone wouldn’t burn her but rather comfortably warm. “I’ve been admiring my cuticles for the past twenty minutes.” he chuckled and offered a hand to her to let her see. “My hands are beautiful again.” He ached to paint them. Gods, he should have claw sheaths somewhere he hadn’t been able to use in years! He smiled and kissed her, herding her into his lap. “And did your conversation with the god go well?”

__________________________

Rheinhard blinked, but didn’t pull away from the finger. He felt warmth in a wave down his body, and glanced at his hands. Less wrinkles. Less swelling in his knuckles and palms. He touched his face briefly, then bowed to the god. “Thank you.” He looked at the others.

“Then restore it. They will know the secrets Oor has tried to hide from them. Just ensure they stay asleep, so Seteta is not bombarded with questions. I only know a handful of the stories here, but not all of the lost memories are good ones.” Rheinhard warned.

When he came out of the water, the temple was warm. More than warm, actually. He smelled hot stone, and warmed dust. Chaceledon was clearly trying to warm himself back up.

He wasn’t prepared for the shriek that came from the dragon’s direction. Chaceledon set Seteta aside and rushed to him, grabbing his cheeks. “Your robe…” Rheinhard protested.

“Oh damn the robe, it was old anyway. Look at you! Gods you look like you did on your…what, forty fifth? Maybe younger? Look at this! You’re going to have to grow out your hair it’s got a bit of color back! Those shoulders are a little firmer too. And you’ve lost weight. You’re so handsome!” Chaceledon squealed and flung his arms around him. Rheinhard grunted; the dragon was barely letting him breathe.

“Please put on the robe..”
 
It was a true testament to Chaceledon's pleasure that he didn't even blink about the soot on his nose, instead beaming up at her and holding out his hands. Seteta gasped as she caught sight of his fingertips. She knelt beside him, her abaya falling out of her grasp to pool on the floor.

"Your... claws?" she asked, wonder in her eyes as she leaned into his side and took his hand. They were a similar hue to his hair, just not quite as bright. She carefully traced her fingers over his nails. "Abtatu did this?" she looked back up at him with a catch in her voice and tears in her eyes.

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands as he kissed her and tugged her into his lap, not caring if the blanket fell away.

"Your hands were always beautiful, sehejib," she murmured. "And yes, my conversation with Abtatu went well."

She shivered a little and cuddled closer to him, enjoying snuggling while they waited on Rheinhard, Aetes, and her mother.


In the Well, they will still only be able to speak when they are awoken from their pedestals,
or when she is within the Heart.
But from now on their sleep will be true, oblivious rest, not this tenuous suspended state.
​
Abtatu took Rheinhard's hand, and pulled them both out of the Heart. As they returned to the place of warmth and light, Abtatu spoke once more.

Do not be afraid.
The curse will be broken.
Your children will live free.
​
Then Rheinhard was pushed out of the water.


Seteta flinched when Chaceledon shrieked and (gently) pushed her out of his lap. He didn't even give the poor acolyte a chance to hand Rheinhard a towel before he practically pounced on his son. Rheinhard's discomfort was quite obvious, though, and Seteta slipped into her abaya--warmed by the magic Chaceledon had used to heat up the stone, thank Abtatu-- and retrieved Chaceledon's robe.

Her eyes widened at the sight of a younger Rheinhard. She'd heard of miracles being done by Abtatu but... she'd never seen it herself. And two in one day?

She left the two alone for a moment as Chaceledon flung his arms around Rheinhard, but when the man begged Chaceledon to please put on the robe she stepped over with a quiet laugh, and gently tickled Chaceledon's ribs.

"Your robe," she said when he turned to her, holding it out. "Please spare your poor son, and let him dry off."

Seteta gestured for the acolyte and she handed Rheinhard another towel and a blanket.

When Aetes and Rehema joined them a few moments later, strangely dry, both of their eyes widened at the sight of Rheinhard, though Rehema's eyes also flickered to Chaceledon's hands with a slight smile.

"Mit is already in the archives, it seems," Seteta told her mother, and Rehema nodded.

"I will go ahead and join him then," the high priestess said, then turned to Aetes, "you will lead them there when they're ready?"

Aetes nodded dumbly, his eyes fixed on Rheinhard. Rehema chuckled and walked away.

Aetes reached over, almost shyly, and took Rheinhard's hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it.

"I can say that I am a truly fortunate man to already know what my lover will look like when he is older."
 
Chaceledon let her examine them proudly. They needed oil to make them strong, and time in the sun to harden, but they were there. He was overcome with joy for Rheinhard. He knew his son resented wasting his life on the whims of a madman, and getting any of it back was truly a miracle. He wanted to ignore Seteta’s insistence on the robe, but Rheinhard was doing his best not to cringe from embarrassment. Chaceledon didn’t care, but his son did. He impatiently took his robe and shrugged it on.

Chaceledon waved away the acolyte and his towel, and dried his son himself. He surrounded them with warm air, beaming at him, until he saw the water disappear from Rheinhard’s clothing. Maybe there was something to Abtatu. One thing was for sure; he’d found a new respect for Seteta’s religion. Not just because he was whole again, but the god’s gentility. He genuinely seemed to care for her.

Chaceledon took Seteta in his arms and picked her up, sweeping her into his embrace like a Princess. “Let’s go find your father, my beloved desert cat.” he glanced back at Aetes kissing Rheinhard’s hand. It felt wrong to bother them. Especially with how hard Rheinhard was blushing.

Rheinhard took Aetes’ hand in his and leaned in to settle his forehead against his lover’s. “I am glad it pleases you. I was…not expecting it. I like your god, but he is a terrifying creature.” He muttered softly. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the priest and curl up on the benches together, but the others were waiting.

Abtatu has put the others to sleep. True sleep, not just the inability to move. All of their memories have been restored. Everything Oor stole from them. Be careful returning to the Well. I can feel something is different. Not wrong. Just…different.
 
Seteta bit back a yelp as Chaceledon swept her into his arms, but she still melted against him, humming contentedly into his kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground. She grinned when the kiss ended, etching the look of his delight into her memory. He was happy, and she didn't see that look in his eyes very often.

When he glanced over at Rheinhard and Aetes, her gaze followed as well, and she couldn't help but smile.

Chaceledon said:
“Let’s go find your father, my beloved desert cat.”
Click to expand...

Seteta chuckled and nodded. She wriggled out of Chaceledon's hold then turned to the acolyte. "Will you take us to the archive area?"

"Certainly, please come this way." The acolyte gestured to the area behind them and began to walk.

The floor was made up of sandstone tiles in two tones, the lighter stones marking a pathway through the temple. It led through a wall of thick curtains, floor to ceiling, that divided the front third of the temple from the back. The curtains dampened sound and kept the moisture from the stream away from the rest of the temple.

"This is the consecration area," the acolyte said in hushed tones, holding the curtains open for Chaceledon and Seteta to step through. "Please be quiet and reverent. After this we'll go around the Holy Place, and we ask for silence in there."

The consecration area had braziers spaced equally from each side of the temple. Incense hung thickly in the air, and several more priests and acolytes could be seen through out the space, either tending to the braziers or seated on woven rugs in meditation.

Chaceledon said:
Abtatu has put the others to sleep. True sleep, not just the inability to move. All of their memories have been restored. Everything Oor stole from them. Be careful returning to the Well. I can feel something is different. Not wrong. Just…different.
Click to expand...

I could not sense you at all while you were in the Cleansing, Seteta answered. And now... yes, it does feel different, but I don't know how yet. It is good their memories have been restored, though. That will be helpful.

It was several paces before they stepped through another set of curtains, and even if the acolyte had not mentioned the need for silence, Seteta at least would have found herself in silent awe.

Here the room was fully open, from floor to ceiling, and the peaked roof of the temple was lined with windows to let in the daylight. The walls and the floor of the temple were not mere sandstone here: they were made of precious gemstones, and those stones were inlaid with gold lettering. Seteta couldn't read it, and she wasn't honestly sure that any of the Inizae could read it if this temple had been built by someone else before they found it.

The light refracted off the gemstones, filling the space with colored light. In the center of the room was a square altar, draped in red cloth. The acolyte led them through the space, along the only plain sandstone in the room that made up the paths through the rest of the temple. It split here, forming a circle around the altar.

At the back of the Holy Place was a solid wooden wall with a smaller set of double doors. When they stepped through that, they were met with the smell of parchment and ink, and a fresh breeze that wafted through windows that looked out over the oasis, with a door between them.

Rehema and Ausar sat at a table near one of the windows, with a pile of scrolls and leather-bound books. Seteta realized the acolyte had already disappeared, likely returning to whatever duties they'd stepped away from, and she led Chaceledon over to the table.

"Rheinhard and Aetes got distracted," she giggled to her mother.


"It is you, is it not?" Aetes murmured, his arm wrapping around Rheinhard as the man leaned into him. "Even if you'd aged a hundred years instead of growing younger I would not be upset."

Aetes saw the acolyte lead Seteta and Chaceledon away, so he lingered with Rheinhard for a little while longer. "Are you warm and dry?" Aetes murmured, pulling back just enough to reach for Rheinhard's chin, tipping his lips up to meet his own.
 
Chaceledon was dutifully silent as they followed the acolyte. The temple was much larger than it seemed on the outside, and as they wove through the building Chaceledon tried to take in as much of it as he could. He wondered if the priests could see or hear Abtatu as they prayed, or if it was something to center and focus themselves.

The Holy Place took his breath away. He moved slowly through it, reaching out his hand to touch the stones on the walls. This place had been hewn out with love and attention, and no small amount of magic. It gladdened his heart to see the stones here so quiet and contented. Dragons built rooms like this, especially dragons like himself who favored gemstones. He looked at Seteta, wondering if she felt the same, and was loath to leave the room for the archives.

The archives were something Nestor would have given his testicles to investigate. “You'd better wake up Nestor and let him look around this room or he’ll never forgive you.” he joked. “Rheinhard can’t read. He won’t be able to make good enough memories for Nestor to learn from.”

_______________

Rheinhard’s heart fluttered at Aetes’ words, and he melted into his kiss. He wound his arms around the priest’s neck. “I am dry. I could be warmer.” He murmured, pressing himself closer to Aetes. He knew anything beyond kisses was likely frowned upon here, but he was just enjoying being close to the other man.

“Must we follow them?” He asked, looking at the warm stone Chaceledon had vacated enviously. He wouldn’t mind curling up for a little while with Aetes.
 
Last edited:
A History Lesson
  • Index
    • Seteta saw the hesitance in Chaceledon's eyes as they were led out of the Holy Place. She felt it as well, the gemstones and their inherent magic send a joyous contentment through her that sank into her very bones.

    "I'll ask Mother later if we can come back," she whispered reverently, throwing one last glance at the Holy Place as they were led into the archives, and slipping a comforting hand into Chaceledon's.

    Chaceledon said:
    “You'd better wake up Nestor and let him look around this room or he’ll never forgive you.” he joked. “Rheinhard can’t read. He won’t be able to make good enough memories for Nestor to learn from.”
    Click to expand...

    Seteta laughed softly, and nudged him toward the table where her parents sat. It was a long and narrow table with benches equally as long on both sides.

    "Even if Rheinhard could read," she said, "it's doubtful he'd be able to read these scrolls."

    "Seteta is right,"     Rehema told Chaceledon with a smile. "Some of these even I cannot read, as they predate our use of this temple. I am honestly curious to see if you, being older than any of us, might recognize any of the writings here."

    When they were settled at the table, Rehema moved some of the scrolls and books out of the way so they could all see each other clearly. Then, she looked at Seteta and Chaceledon. "Tell me about Amphetrion. What happened when he met you" --she nodded toward Seteta, then looked back to Chaceledon, "and what you know of him."

    With a sigh, Seteta scooted a little closer to Chaceledon to lean into him, and she began to talk, relaying the things that happened the day of Auction.


    "Warmer, hm?" Aetes murmured, his hand moving from Rheinhard's chin to curl around the back of his neck. The arm around the man's waist, Aetes tightened just a bit, pulling their bodies closer together. He'd heard Chaceledon and Seteta leave with the acolyte a few moments ago, so for now it was just the two of them.

    Aetes kissed him again, slow and deep, teasing with his lips and tongue and until he felt Rheinhard trembling in his arms.

    He was smirking when he pulled away, though, and then gently tugged Rheinhard toward the pile of cushions. He could feel the warmth radiating from the stone, from whatever magic the dragon had used, and Aetes settled on the ground, tugging Rheinhard down into his lap again.

    "We do not have to follow them if you do not want to," Aetes said, gazing at his new lover again with a bit of awe as he took in the sight of his younger face. "I believe Rehema originally asked for just Seteta and Chaceledon today."

    Aetes reached up to softly trace over the lines of Rheinhard's face. "Earlier, you said Abtatu was a terrifying creature. Why so?"
     
  • Index
    • Chaceledon hid a smile as they settled in with her parents. Forbidden knowledge was one of the few things Nestor would kill to obtain, and if they managed to get him in this library he would refuse to leave unless dragged. Especially with scrolls this ancient and rare. He held Seteta’s hand and let her tell the tale.

    Certainly, it had been an upset. Auction was known for going smoothly, mechanically smoothly, and he had little doubt Amphetrion’s outburst was still talked about. He mulled Rehema’s question over carefully.

    “Amphetrion is the first Inizae Persian ever captured. He’s a kind old thing, and he’s been Persian’s record keeper since I can remember. His memory is…inexhaustible. Nestor spent months with him, drilling him on languages, history, science, art, mechanics. He knew every bolt in Pedeo, every tongue of every trader. He greeted me in Draconian the first time I arrived there so clear and crystalline I asked him what Dahn he was from. When we made the decision to raise Rheinhard in the southern jungles, Amphetrion taught him Cauitochlan. There is part of me that is convinced Persian found a way to turn him fae, or made a dangerous deal to extend his lifespan, but either way he is at the end of it.”

    Chaceledon sighed. “He is becoming forgetful, half-crippled with arthritis, and Persian has been encouraging him to retire. He dotes on him, to the point where the oldest joke in Pedeo is that killing Amphetrion is the only way to start a war with Persian. I believe he also might have helped Persian with Legion…Persian’s only attempt to re-create the Well. The spell failed, and Legion is a crippled boy who spends his time sorting books in the Autumn Court. Three hundred men are awake in him with no Well to retreat to. They seize his hands, feet, eyes, lips…Legion is a maelstrom of a spell.”

    Chaceledon sighed and gestured at the scrolls around him. “If you’ve been using this place longer than I’ve been alive, he might be referenced here. Or we can call in Rheinhard, and show you those memories.”

    _____________________

    Rheinhard melted into Aetes’ kisses, returning them with eager passion. He curled his hands against Aetes’ chest, uttering a soft moan. Desire surged in his loins, powerful. More so than before. He felt younger, less damaged. Less of an old aching man. He settled into Aetes’ lap facing him, and kissed him again.

    “The god can disband the Well.” He said softly, leaning into the priest’s touch. “He offered, for both me and Seteta, to destroy it. I could not, but seeing him there where no one has been if not for me or the owner of the Well…it was terrifying. Any god who can turn back the time on a man’s face and restore a dragon’s claws is something to be respected.” He kissed Aetes’ hand, and chased his fingers playfully with his mouth. He pulled Aetes’ forefinger between his lips and sucked for a moment, recalling their interrupted lovemaking.

    He pulled his mouth from it reluctantly. “There is something else. Seteta will outlive everyone alive in this tribe. Abtatu offered to give me all the life that had been stolen from the Volkers who died prematurely…I only took the time I needed, and gave the rest to her. Neither she nor Chaceledon know that she will outlive Hokkaido the dragon himself.”
     
    Rehema shook her head. "All the records we have here," she waved a hand around the room, "are from just after the end of Nailah's reign, when the Inizae were exiled into the desert. Any written records before that time were lost in the revolts. Some might still remain buried in Oox-meqtwl, but Abtatu has warned us against returning there too greedily."

    The High Priestess's eyes lingered on a section of books and scrolls that were fragile, enough so that even Seteta hesitated to gaze at them too long for fear of seeing them crumble to dust before her eyes.

    "Those are all that remain of the records that were originally here before we arrived," Rehema said. "They are in a script unlike any the Inizae have ever known. Perhaps it is the records written by the gods themselves. Maybe even Abtatu's own hand. Like the gold script in the Holy Place, it's unlike anything we've ever seen before. But perhaps, you or another dragon with your long lives, might find it familiar.

    "As for Amphetrion..."     Rehema sighed and settled her elbows on the table, weaving her fingers together to rest her chin on them. "We honestly don't know much more about him than his name. He was Captain of the Guard to Nailah, the last Perati of the Inizae. There were other pharoahs afterward, but she was the last of the line that were bound to the land.

    "Nailah abdicated the throne. The Inizae had angered Abtatu, and though she was... considered to be one of Abtatu's beloved, because of the sins of her ancestors, she set aside her right to the throne in an effort to atone. The people did not think it enough, though, and ironically... they began to hunt down those among the Inizae who would have happily given up all their wealth to aid them. But the Inizae who still held some power... they were loathe to give it up, and turned the people against the rightful rulers.

    "In the chaos, Nailah and Amphetrion were separated from their group, and I can only assume that is where Amphetrion fell into Persian's trap. Nailah returned, frantic to go back and free him, but it was a days before they were able to organize any such attempt. And when they returned... there was no trace of him left. Amphetrion simply vanished from our history after that.

    "It was rumored that he and Nailah were lovers," Rehema finished quietly. "But it was another few years yet before she would bear children, and they clearly were not Amphetrion's, so there is only speculation."

    Seteta bit her lip anxiously, and twisted her fingers in the skirt of her abaya. "Amphetrion insisted, more than once, that I had to be Nailah. That I looked like her... and I remembered, too, that when I was a child I found a scroll among your belongings. It was a genealogy. Of Nailah."

    Ausar's eyes narrowed. "Is that why you started pretending you were a princess?"

    Seteta blushed, and Rehema laughed softly, though her gaze was somber.

    "For all I know, you could have the appearance of Nailah," Rehema answered. "Because yes, you are Nailah's descendent. Not just through me and my mother, and her mother... but also through Ausar's line."

    Seteta looked over at her father with wide eyes.

    "We didn't know," Ausar laughed softly, raking his fingers through his hair. "Much like you two, after we announced our intent to marry... we found ourselves brought here and told about our lineages."

    Seteta found her breath catching in her throat, and she reached for Chaceledon's hand beneath the table. "What... what does this mean?"

    Rehema caught her gaze, and the priestess lowered her hands back to the table. "It does not mean that you are destined to be a queen," she said gently. "So do not panic. There are more of the Inizae who are also descendants of Perati Nailah. And..." Rehema's hand dropped beneath the table, clearly settling against her belly, "there will be more. But... you do have a command of the earth and its magic that the Inizae haven't seen in many generations. Perhaps not even since Nailah herself. It would not surprise me if sometime in the future... Abtatu chose you to bring the Inizae out of exile."


    Aetes shivered at the way Rheinhard wriggled in his lap, taking a moment to catch his breath as Rheinhard spoke of Abtatu. He softly kissed Rheinhard's forehead as the man sucked his finger into his mouth, and the priest swore softly but fought to keep his mind on the... present issues.

    "If a god cannot restore a man's youth or break a curse, they have no right to be called a god at all," Aetes answered, though he looked somewhat dazed as Rheinhard pulled his mouth away from his finger.

    But what Rheinhard said next pulled Aetes mind away from anything else, bringing his thoughts to a stuttering halt as what exactly Rheinhard just said sank in. It couldn't be...

    "Did Abtatu say that?" Aetes questioned, his hands stilling and his face growing serious, though he did not move Rheinhard out of his lap. "That Seteta would outlive us all? Tell me, exactly, what was said."
     
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    Chaceledon wished someone from another Dahn was there. He had neglected his history lessons, and ignored all the elements he found boring about the desert around them. He had been young and foolish. Now he was regretting it. He listened to Rehema, his face grim. Seteta was the descendant of the last pharaoh of the Inizae, on both of her parents’ sides. He couldn’t judge; dragons had been fighting that sort of bottlenecking for thousands of years. He wouldn’t be surprised if Hokkaido and Peridot were related in some way, generations ago.

    He squeezed her hand. She was strong, she was more talented with the earth than any woman and most dragons he’d met. If there was anyone to lead the Inizae out of exile and ascend the throne, it was Seteta. She was young yet, and had time to grow her powers.

    “I will be with you.” Chaceledon said softly. “Whether you are fated to be Queen or not. But it is time for the Inizae to rejoin the world. Your penance has lasted so long…there is no sin in wanting a place to call your own. You’ll be a wiser people now.”

    ______________________

    Rheinhard was enjoying the fire deep in his loins. It was a delicious tension he was appreciating more and more. He liked teasing Aetes, and he could feel the man in his lap. He ground against him, slowly, nursing the feeling and kissing Aetes’ neck.

    The man paused, and Rheinhard drew back a bit. “He said that I would be given the years that were stolen from my ancestors. Each Volker died around fifty years, six hundred and sixty…I cannot count how high that is, but it is many centuries.” He said softly. “He told me I would match the lifespan of my chosen mate, however long that would be.”
     
    Seteta took a deep breath as Chaceledon spoke. Wasn't this what she had longed for? For her people to have a home again? She just... hadn't really expected that it would be her.

    "What if I can't do it?"     Seteta looked up at her mother with wet eyes. "What if I fail?"

    Rehema's gaze softened, and she reached across the table. Seteta stretched her free hand out to her, and clasped her mother's hand.

    "You freed a dragon from a wraith, didn't you? This can't be any harder."

    Seteta laughed, and glanced back at Chaceledon, almost shyly. "I suppose not."

    "Now, I'll give you some time to think, because I'm sure you'll both have questions,"     Rehema squeezed Seteta's hand once more, then released her. "Tonight, at the celebration, I'm going to invite Hassani and Rheinhard into the tribe."


    Aetes shook his head. "That is not simply many centuries... that is many thousands of years, assuming they would have each lived another twenty or thirty years," he answered, his voice carrying no small amount of disbelief. Abtatu would know, though, how long each Volker should have lived. "How long do dragons usually live?"

    But he still smiled softly when Rheinhard told him what Abtatu had done for him. "That is a great blessing indeed. Not many of any sapient creatures in the world get to know that they will live out the rest of their life with the one they love."

    Still, though, worry furrowed over Aetes brow. If Abtatu had asked permission to end this Well's existence then... those years would just be pushed onto Seteta with no warning. "Did Abtatu say Seteta was given those years?"

    Could it be?     He wondered. Was she to be the one?

    Gently, he shifted Rheinhard out of his lap.

    "Do not tell Seteta or Chaceledon, for now," Aetes bade him as he stood and held his hand down to help his lover up. "Let me speak with Rehema first."

    He kissed Rheinhard gently once more before turning toward the inner parts of the temple. "Since we've crossed through Abtatu's Cleansing, the only way out of the temple know is to go through it."
     
    “I won’t let you fail.” Chaceledon said quietly, smiling at Seteta. He was full of pride, his back straight and his eyes looking down at her adoringly. It was her fate. She was to become the radiant queen he always knew she would be. A mother to dragons, standing by him with her rightful place in both Dahn and tribe. She could be so much more than the woman who led the Inizae back to the world. She could be the one woman to bridge between the Inizae and dragons themselves.

    He kissed her shoulder, winding an arm around her waist. He smiled at Rehema. “Ah, my sweet Rheinhard. Citizen of the Dead, Cuautli of the Xochimuica, now Initiate to the Inizae. For a man who abhors social contact, he certainly holds a lot of tribal seats.”

    ______________________

    Rheinhard frowned. “Chaceledon has told me his father is fifty thousand, which is an older dragon. Chaceledon is around twenty five thousand. If I had to guess…Seteta would gain his age over and then some.” He said. “The god did not explicitly say she would receive those years…but since he has made my Well whole, and I have only received a small fraction, I should think she would retain the rest as the Well’s owner.”

    He didn’t like being shooed off Aetes’ lap, but it was clear the implication was bothering his lover. He returned his kiss with a silent agreement not to tell Chaceledon or Seteta. He did regret opening his mouth before having had a chance to tease the priest further. He accompanied Aetes through the temple without complaint; the beauty of the Holy Place seemed wasted on him. He didn’t understand Chaceledon’s obsession with pretty rocks.

    The dragon looked up as they entered the archives.     “Darling, there you are.” he smirked knowingly at Aetes.
     
    Rehema smiled softly at the way Chaceledon gazed at Seteta. She felt Ausar reach for her hand, and she clasped it tightly.

    "It is good she has found someone who will not be afraid or jealous of her power," Rehema whispered quietly to Ausar.

    "It is a good match," Ausar murmured in agreement. "I see why Mesi was hesitant, especially with the connection to the Volkers, but I doubt any of the Inizae would have been able to match Seteta's vibrancy, except perhaps Keket."

    Seteta pretended to not hear her parents whispering, and snuggled into Chaceledon as he kissed her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her.

    Chaceledon said:
    He smiled at Rehema. “Ah, my sweet Rheinhard. Citizen of the Dead, Cuautli of the Xochimuica, now Initiate to the Inizae. For a man who abhors social contact, he certainly holds a lot of tribal seats.”
    Click to expand...

    They all chuckled a little at Chaceledon's comment.

    "Even so," Rehema said, "Rheinhard seems like someone who is foundering and homeless right now. He needs someplace that might become his own, apart from you."

    Seteta nodded. "He would fit well with the Inizae," she said. "If others do not react as badly to his reputation as muti did."

    Aetes ushered Rheinhard into the archives, and the four at the table fell silent. Seteta leaned around Chaceledon to slyly wink at Rheinhard. She snorted when Chaceledon eyed Aetes.

    Aetes didn't shy away from Chaceledon's gaze. The dragon seemed to be teasing more than anything at the moment, so he just smiled and settled his hand on Rheinhard's back. "Go join your family," the priest said, pressing a kiss to Rheinhard's cheek before he broke away and rounded the table.

    Seteta smiled at Rheinhard as Aetes and Rehema spoke with each other. "Chaceledon thinks Nestor would love this place," she grinned, gesturing around the room.


    "I need to speak with you privately about Rheinhard's experience with Abtatu," Aetes told Rehema, then nodded toward Chaceledon and Seteta. "I suspect it will take some time, so you should finish up with them first."

    Rehema nodded. "Ausar will need to get back soon to coordinate things for the celebration this evening anyway. Should Rheinhard stay?"

    Aetes looked over at the man. "Perhaps. He was the one who spoke with Abtatu, after all."
     
    Chaceledon kissed the top of Seteta’s head. He didn’t fear her power. He wanted her to rise to it. He wanted her beautiful and terrible, a goddess of sand and fire. He imagined her the queen of the Inizae, both humble and avatar, with sand cascading up around her and consecrated into glass with dragonfire. Gods, the very thought was liable to give him an erection or the best idea for a fashion collection, and he wasn’t sure which.

    He did agree with Rehema’s estimation of Rheinhard. He was foundering and homeless. He played with Seteta’s hair. “He misses Xiuhatl as well. But yes, I think he would make a good addition to the Inizae…just as long as you recognize he may not hold back if someone has the reaction Seteta’s muti did. He held because she was family. Someone else might get their face gnawed off.” he warned.

    Rheinhard ducked slightly away from the kiss. He wanted it, he just wasn’t sure about how blatant he wanted to be in front of Chaceledon. The dragon understood; he was guarding his feelings.

    “You would never get Nestor out of this place.” Rheinhard agreed, looking around at the dusty scrolls. “You should wake him. Nestor has been unsure of you this entire time, and his foul mood isn’t entirely his fault. Bring him some joy; he gets so little of it.”

    Chaceledon frowned. “Are you sure? It’ll be tough to wrest back control.”

    “I am sure. I wouldn’t begrudge Huron a good fishing spot or Klaus your sewing room.”

    Chaceledon nodded at Seteta.     “You’ve got his permission, my darling, and it seems like a decent idea to get on his good side.”
     
    "It is unlikely that many others, if any, will recognize a Volker," Rehema reassured Chaceledon, though her eyes saddened. "There are very few Inizae left as old as my mother, and if any since then have encountered a Volker they have not returned to speak of it."

    When Rehema finished speaking with Aetes, she watched the interaction between the others with a quiet smile.

    "You can wake the different souls?" She asked Seteta quietly.

    Seteta nodded. "As Steward of the Well, I control who is awake and who is... resting."

    Her brow furrowed a little. Rheinhard said that Abtatu had out the others into true sleep now. She wondered what had changed, otherwise, with the Well also.

    "Do you have any questions, about what we spoke of?" Rehema asked.

    Seteta shook her head. "Not yet. I'm sure I'll think of some later. After... I've had time to process it all."

    Ausar reached for Seteta's hand. "I may not be able to answer all of your questions, but I can answer some, I'm sure."

    Seteta nodded again, then glanced up at Aetes. "We'll go now then, and let you speak," she said, unwinding from Chaceledon's hold to stand, then looked over at Rheinhard. "You wish to speak with Rheinhard, though?"

    "Yes,"     Aetes answered. "Do you need to be here to wake this... Nestor?"

    "No,"     Seteta answered. "I can do it from anywhere. Rheinhard can let me know when you're finished."

    Ausar stood then, and offered his arm to Seteta. "Shall we?" he asked, smiling at her and Chaceledon.
     
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    Chaceledon rose and kissed Rheinhard’s forehead. “You’ll do fine, dear. We’ll be waiting for you. I believe we have a party to plan, right Ausar?” Chaceledon caught up to them with a smile. He hadn’t planned a party in a hell of a long time! He was excited. A party with his new family. Of course, a healthy offering to Abtatu in thanks for his claws. He would have to add a small chapel in their home similar to the one found here so Seteta could commune with her god properly.

    Rheinhard nodded, and took a deep breath. Aetes hadn’t met Nestor yet. Or indeed most of the more tumultuous elements of the Well. They all needed time awake, even Klaus, to have a hope of living with each other and Seteta. He wouldn’t dare wake Klaus here, but they would have to have a conversation about the man at some point.

    “I imagine you want to talk about what I discussed with the god.” Rheinhard eyed Rehema, not sure how much he could disclose.
     
    Ausar chuckled as Chaceledon joined them. "To be honest, there's not much planning to be done. But there is lots of food to make and... we should probably teach you some of our songs and dances."

    As they stepped out the back door of the temple--rather plain, all in all, especially compared to how one had to enter the temple--Seteta took a deep breath of the fresh air blowing over the oasis. It was late afternoon, and quite warm.

    "Do you need me for anything, mit?" Seteta asked, leaning into Ausar a bit as they walked arm in arm. "If not, I think I'll take a swim in the oasis."

    "I cannot think of anything we need you urgently for,"     Ausar answered, leaning over to kiss her forehead and squeezing her hand before stepping away. He glanced over at Chaceledon, then back to Seteta, a silent question in his eyes. Do you need me to distract your lover for a while?

    She smiled and shook her head. "Would you like to come for a swim with me?" she asked Chaceledon, turning back to him. "Or would you like to go plan a party with my father?"


    Chaceledon said:
    “I imagine you want to talk about what I discussed with the god.” Rheinhard eyed Rehema, not sure how much he could disclose.
    Click to expand...

    "I think first I would like to know why Aetes believes this is necessary," Rehema said, arching a brow and patting the seat beside her that Ausar had vacated, and continued as she waited for the priest to seat himself.

    Aetes sighed, and did as the high priestess bid. "Abtatu has gathered the lifespans of the Volkers, the ones who died before their times, and offered the remaining years to Rheinhard. Rheinhard only took some, and then asked Abtatu to give the rest to Seteta."

    Rehema's only visible reaction was to suck in a breath and glance back to Rheinhard. She stayed quiet for a moment, thoughtful. She knew why Aetes was... concerned.

    "Abtatu didn't say whether Seteta was given those years or not, correct?" Rehema directed that question to Rheinhard. Aetes would have asked, she was certain.

    It was not like Abtatu to do something like that without speaking with the one affected first. But... there were clearly other things coming into play now.

    Rehema sighed and leaned her elbows on the table again. "I suspect that you have... observed some things about Seteta by now," she began speaking, watching Rheinhard. He was sharp and she doubted he missed much, if anything at all. "Her abilities with the earth, specifically.

    "There are... things that have been foretold. We hesitate to use the term prophecy because we do not like to put Abtatu into that small of a constraint, but living off the desert means we have learned to be very observant of signs.

    "I believe that Seteta is meant to be the one to lead the Inizae out of our exile. One of the signs is that with the end of the exile, the Inizae's lifespans will be restored. But... I am uncertain if this is the beginning of that or not."

    Rehema reached up and rubbed her forehead. She'd meant to answer Seteta's questions today, but hadn't expected to have just as many new ones for herself. For Abtatu.

    "Traditionally, what happens in Abtatu's Cleansing stays between you and Abtatu," Rehema sighed again. "It is a private moment, sometimes one that heals, sometimes one that breaks down someone's preconceived notions about themselves and the world. Any of Abtatu's priests and priestesses are available for someone to talk to, but we don't generally talk about it unless someone asks.

    "So I'm sorry... but will you please tell me about what happened? However much you are comfortable with?"
     
    Chaceledon curled his hand under Seteta’s chin and kissed her. “While you being naked is a very tempting thought, I would love to plan this party with your father.” he chuckled, and nuzzled her nose with his. He slid his thumb along her cheek, watching her for a moment. His beautiful, strong fiancé, soon to be wife no matter what happened. Of course she would be the one to lead the Inizae. In his mind, there could be no other.

    Chaceledon turned to Ausar and took his arm. “Now tell me, what sort of decor do you have for this?”

    ________________________

    Rheinhard recounted his experiences with Abtatu, patiently attempting to keep it as accurately as he had told Aetes. “If Seteta is to lead the Inizae back to become rulers of the desert…then it is fortuitous her god thought to grant her a long lifespan. I know Chaceledon feared her death. His Dahn counts on it.” He frowned. “I told him I wanted her to see her children grow. For a dragon that would take thousands of years.”

    Rheinhard looked up at the pair of them. “I only wanted her to live until Chaceledon’s death of old age. It would break him to lose her, and she is a good woman.”
     
    Seteta stretched up into Chaceledon's kiss with a contented hum, sliding her hand up to curl softly around his neck as he nuzzled her nose.

    "It's fine, sehejib," she said when he pulled away, caressing his jaw softly. "I have plenty of things to occupy my thoughts with."

    She watched quietly as Chaceledon and her father walked away arm in arm, but they quickly vanished behind some palm trees. Then she turned and headed to the oasis, stripped off her abaya when she reached the edge, and smoothly dove into the cool water. She descended, down and down and down, until her lungs were just barely starting to burn for air. Then she went limp and let herself float back up, gasping for breath when her head broke the surface, and she let herself float atop the water for a while. She emptied her mind, allowing the coolness of the water beneath her and the heat of the sun above to lull her thoughts.


    Chaceledon said:
    Chaceledon turned to Ausar and took his arm. “Now tell me, what sort of decor do you have for this?”
    Click to expand...

    Ausar threw his head back and laughed. "We are nomads," Ausar said at last as he led Chaceledon back to the gathered tents, and toward his own mother's tent. "How much decor do you think we have? At best, we likely have some banners that can be strung up. Inizae celebrations are not about the decorations, though. They are about us, and our lives.

    "We will feast, and we will dance and sing and laugh beneath the stars."


    "Thank you," Rehema said as Rheinhard finished speaking. While she still wasn't quite sure what to do with this information, it did give her a little bit more of a glimpse into how Abtatu might have seen the request. And also... it touched her that Rheinhard wanted to make sure that Seteta would see her own children grow up.

    Rehema took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead. This was not a puzzle she could work out completely on her own.

    "I will seek communion with Abtatu,"     she said a moment later. "Please, the two of you feel free to linger here as long as you desire. Perhaps your... Nestor will have some insight into the older documents here."

    With that, Aetes rose and helped her up from the bench. "You have not eaten a midday meal yet," he murmured. "I do not trust my priesthood to protect me if Ausar is angered."

    "I will have one of the acolytes bring me some food before I meditate," Rehema chuckled, patting Aetes arm, and then she glanced over at Rheinhard. "I doubt that Chaceledon or Seteta have had a chance to tell you, since we only told them this morning. I am with child."

    Rehema inclined her head gently toward Aetes, and then slipped back into the temple.

    Aetes came around the table and reached for Rheinhard's hand, tracing over his knuckles. "What... will it be like, for you?" he asked. "While another soul controls your body?"
     
    Chaceledon cocked an eyebrow. “No paper lamps? Nothing? My darling man, just because you prize people over things doesn’t mean we can’t have a good aesthetic. Come, we’ll make some lamps to string and some runners for the tables in your tribe’s colors.” He patted Ausar’s arm. Having a son who abhorred waste had helped him in quite a few ways; paper lanterns could easily be turned into firestarters along the way. Table runners woven from desert grasses could feed livestock. There was a lot they could do to make the gathering special.

    ___________________

    Rheinhard nodded. “I know. Your scent is declaring your pregnancy before your words do.” He was grateful he didn’t have to recant the tale again; he was beginning to think he had done something wrong. He gently touched the bond with Seteta to let her know he was finished.

    He grasped Aetes’ hand quietly. “I will be in the Well. Conscious, watching, but not in control.” His mouth opened as though he had more to say, but instead his face turned stony and he sharply yanked his hand from Aetes. “That is quite enough out of you.”

    Nestor stood up and folded his arms, his eyes going to the documents. “No wonder they’re crumbling! Books need at least a little moisture. You’ve got them so dry in here they’re turning to powder!” Nestor snapped, looking at his hands. At least they were somewhat clean. He carefully examined the scrolls, taking down one that seemed in better repair than the others. He took it back to the table, and slowly unraveled it. He was delicate, his eyes scrutinizing the paper for signs of tearing or cracking.

    “Fools the lot of you. What you need to do is affix these between two panes of glass and seal the edges in wax, so you can read and preserve them. Not leave them to crumble! So much knowledge going to waste.” Nestor growled under his breath. He scanned the document. “Some of this is very old elvish.”

    He got up and sifted through the scrolls again, his delicate fingers handling them with outmost care. “But this…” he pulled free a scroll with glass knobs. “…is old draconian. Those knobs are dragonglass. Foolish children dunking yourselves in a pond for a mangy git who led you into slavery by the nose guarding treasures you couldn’t possibly understand.”

    Nestor glared at Aetes. “What is this to you, a library?”
     
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