Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Does it look like we carry paper around?" Ausar answered with an arched brow, but smiled and let Chaceledon take his arm as they walked back to the camp.

Ausar did glance back toward the oasis once, a glimmer of worry in his eyes, both for Rehema and Seteta. Rehema hadn't eaten since breakfast, and Seteta... he knew how her mind could wander when she was overwhelmed.

"You can melt sand, for glass, right?" Ausar asked. "What about some ornaments? We can string rope between poles to hang them from."


When Rheinhard reached out to her over the bond, Seteta took a breath and dove inside her own mind, reaching for the Well.

Rheinhard was right. Whatever Abtatu had done, it all felt... Different. But she couldn't pinpoint it right away, other than that before... It had almost felt rough around the edges. And it had felt like something coarse and rough been into place by force. Now it felt... Calm. Quiet. Like a sanctuary rather than a prison.

She still wasn't quite in control of transitioning between consciousness in the physical world and the Well, though, and so she wrapped a blanket around herself in the office then went to wake Nestor.

"Rheinhard wants to let you look through the temple archive," she said, in fumbling Draconian--though she had to say 'temple archive's in Abtat--when Nestor was eyeing her suspiciously. "If you don't hurry then Aetes is probably going to kiss him."

She would wait long enough to make sure Rheinhard was all right, then pull herself back out.


Aetes huffed amusedly when Rheinhard's entire demeanor and body language shifted, and the soul of Nestor took control, yanking his hand away.

When this Nestor began griping about their care of the archives, though, Aetes just snorted a laugh.

"Yes, I'm certain that the lack of moisture is what is causing these 20,000 year old documents to crumble," Aetes said wryly. "And hauling delicate panes of glass into the middle of the desert is definitely a task we had in mind when our ancestors were running for their lives."

Chaceledon said:
Nestor glared at Aetes. “What is this to you, a library?”
Click to expand...

That, though, made Aetes draw up to his full height, with his own glare pinning Nestor in place. Even if it was the body of his lover, this man before him was not his lover, and Aetes was a priest of Abtatu.

"This is Abtatu's sacred temple," Aetes rumbled. "Even if it looks like just a library to you, we have been its caretakers for millennia. Consider that without us, you wouldn't even know of the existence of this place.

"Some knowledge is meant to be lost. Trust that Abtatu has preserved the things you actually need to see."

Then Aetes gaze gentled, and he nodded the glass-knobbed scroll. "That is dragonglass and old Draconian? Can you read any of it?"
 
Chaceledon chuckled, watching Ausar look back at the temple. “She’s like Seteta, you know. Doesn’t quit when there’s something bothering her even when she knows she needs to rest and eat.” he commented. “I’ll start on the glass lamps. Why don’t you show me what you’re working with for everything else?”

Chaceledon liked Ausar. He was where Seteta got her emotional side from. His practicality reminded him of the Volker’s, however. He rubbed at his chin. “Glass lamps along the poles, we can use spare cloth to accent the space. You’ve got to think of the entire thing as a staging area. What you want to feel when you look at it.”

___________________

“Yes I’m sure somewhere between tucking your tails between your legs for Abtatu and pissing yourselves when a fae sneezes you couldn’t possibly have made time.” Nestor said archly. He looked directly at Aetes. “This isn’t a sacred archive, it’s an allergist’s nightmare. Knowledge is never meant to be lost. That’s why I exist.”

Nestor gently cradled the dragonglass scroll and carried it to the table. He held it like it was a child, and examined it before he even tried to unroll it. He was slow, making sure the heavy ends of the scroll were supported as he unrolled it. He read the flowing script, frowning.

“It’s an old dialect but I can read it.” He said. “You’re lucky to have this. Dragons don’t think much of any people but themselves. That means this was either gifted or stolen. It’s a funerary notice, for a dragon named Oolong. Without translating directly…it states there will be no funeral, and Oolong was made hedahn posthumously. His body was dumped. Which is rare for a dragon…they’re cremated, usually without exception.”

Nestor scanned the document further, and uncovered an ancient wax seal. He frowned, and leaned in to smell it. “Bergamot oil in the wax seal. It’s cracked, but you can still smell it…must’ve been enchanted at some point. Document’s been around since before Chaceledon was born.” He slowly rolled it back up and set it aside.

Nestor’s ascerbic mood faded with each scroll, each book. He devoured all the writing, even things he couldn’t read, saying he would translate them later from memory shards. He came back from the shelves and set down a scroll. An old one, but not quite as ancient as the draconian.

“Look at this. Desert Propagation: Methods. That was written for use in a city but it’s in Abtati. Take a look- carefully.” Nestor warned, but without as much malice in his tone. “I’d say you have something on the history of this temple in here, but I’ll find her. She’s hiding from me.” He scanned the scrolls like a father looking for an errant child. “Gods bless cataloguing. I’ll never speak ill of Amphetrion again.”
 
It was all Aetes could do to keep his brows from leaping off his face as Nestor ranted, but at the end, the priest couldn't help but fall into laughter.

"I would wager, rather, that your current state of existence is a prime example of the types of knowledge that should be lost," Aetes quipped in return.

He grew quiet as he watched Nestor carefully unroll the scroll, however, and began to translate the contents. "Hedahn?" He asked quietly when it was mentioned, but didn't push for an answer right away.

As Nestor sorted through scrolls, Aetes quietly began to make a list of them with summaries, though his writing would be unlike anything Nestor has ever seen, most likely. The Inizae's script was vaguely reminiscent of ancient Abtat, but was all its own, having evolved in nearly complete isolation from the rest of the world.

He eyed the scroll about desert propagation, but didn't make an attempt to read through it at the present moment.

"It's not necessary to know the origins of the temple," Aetes told Nestor. "Don't worry about trying to find that specifically.

"If you find anymore Draconian scrolls, though, I think Seteta and Rehema will be very interested in those. There are some... very ancient legends among the Inizae about dragons, but they don't make much sense. We've preserved them mainly as children's stories."
 
“Hedahn.” Nestor gestured as he struggled to find the words. “It means this Oolong wasn’t only murderer by his family, he was declared not one of them. His mother would smash his eggshell she’s been keeping since his nameday and they’d never speak of him again. Chaceledon’s sister is hedahn. Peridot will refuse to acknowledge her at the wedding, you’ll know her by the woman who starts conversations with people who act like they can’t see her.”

Nestor raised an eyebrow at Aetes as he looked through the scrolls. “Unless you’ve been plundering any draconian libraries recently, I doubt I’ll find any others. What stories do the Inizae tell about dragons?”

The poisoner swore under his breath. “Damn Yarel fucking that dwarf and cheating me out of a six foot height!” He growled, and practically tackled a chair to drag it over to one of the shelves. “I swear every Volker since Aron has been under six feet. I was six foot three!”

Nestor looked at the top shelf. He laughed. Actually laughed with victory. “Look! Look at this! Look at this!” He climbed down, a scroll in hand. “Oh what I love about old archives like this is you can find a million things no man has set eyes on before and here you’ve got something dragons would kill for!”

Nestor proudly plunked down the scroll, and sat next to Aetes as though they were study friends. He blew dust off the scroll in a heavy cloud, brushing it with his fingers. As he did, shining strands came through the dirt. Nestor was grinning like a child. “Look..” he used his sleeve to wipe away more.

“Dragons don’t put important documents on paper. This is glass, so thin it could be held in your fingers and you wouldn’t see it. It’s enchanted. This never would have crumbled in a thousand years, not ten thousand!” He swept a hand across the table, smirking and opening the scroll with a flourish. “This, my religious friend, is the single most important piece of documentation any dragon family will ever own.”

Nestor lifted his chin proudly. “This is the deed to an estate named Eudicot. You and the Inizae own dragon land, whether or not you realize it.” He chuckled. “And it’s the companion to that death notice we found. They’re under the same Dahn.”

Nestor read it for a few minutes, and looked up at Aetes. “…Thank you, for letting me read. It’s been so long since I’ve actually learned anything.” He leaned in, and placed a kiss on Aetes’ lips.
 
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Aetes frowned but nodded as Nestor explained what hedahn was, then chuckled as Nestor ranted about Rheinhard's height and wrestled with a chair. If Nestor had asked, Aetes would have helped him find whatever it was he was looking for... but he didn't.

"What stories do the Inizae tell about dragons?" Aetes mused quietly, taking a seat at the table and steepling his fingers as he thought. "Probably the oldest and most significant tale is that when Abtatu birthed the Inizae from the sands, the god told us to stick by the dragons. That they would teach us the ways of the desert and keep us warm and safe.

"Another of our legends says that the first dragon carried dew drops on its back, and wherever the drops fell as it walked through the desert, oases sprang up." Aetes paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then smirked playfully. "Yet another legend says that the dragons became sapient because one of them saved an Inizae girl. But the tribe thought the dragon attacked her, and as they prepared to slay the dragon--without heeding the girl's cries for mercy--she prayed to Abtatu, and asked that the dragon be able to tell its side of the story, and have the intelligence to defend itself in both word and action."

Aetes didn't know much about dragons, but if Chaceledon was anything to judge by, then their pride wouldn't like that particular tale.

As Nestor brought the new scroll over, Aetes couldn't help but gape at the fact that it was glass. As Nestor unrolled it and explained what it was, the priest's brow furrowed thoughtfully, though he snorted when Nestor said that he and the Inizae own dragon land.

"We don't own the land," Aetes corrected him. "Abtatu does. We are just caretakers."

When Nestor finished reading, and looked back up at him, Aetes grinned softly. It was clear that Nestor was enjoying himself.

Aetes stilled, though, when Nestor leaned over and softly kissed him. He was quiet for a moment, then reached up to gently push Nestor away.

"No offense meant," the priest murmured, "but I would prefer that only Rheinhard does that."
 
“I can’t imagine the dragons teaching or protecting anyone. Even in my time they were cold, cruel and arrogant. Their numbers are few and fading, so perhaps it’s not just the Inizae suffering.” Nestor muttered. “The dragons have something similar to your last legend, however. They claim the mammals hid the power of speech from the dragons, and the dragons kidnapped a girl. They only exchanged her in return for the gift of speech. Not exactly the same tale, but similar enough to be interesting.”

The poisoner huffed in dismissal of Aetes’ correction. “Whomever owns the scroll owns the estate. If your people want to get close to the dragons again you’ve got a prime spot. Don’t squander it. Imagine struggling to find water when you likely own an entire well.”

He pulled back from Aetes with a scowl. He hadn’t really known what had come over him. He set his jaw and rolled up the scroll again. “What the hell would a god do with an estate anyway?” He growled. He got up, grabbed the chair he was using as a stool, and went to explore the shelves again. This time he pulled a few down and sat at a table away from Aetes.

He read frustratingly for a moment, then eyed Aetes. “Your thrice-damned god messed with the Well, didn’t he? I came out of darkness this time. Like I was asleep.”
 
"The Inizae have no solid memories or histories of the very beginning of our time," Aetes shrugged. "It is unlikely that the dragons remember the beginnings of their existence either. Perhaps, once, they would have helped others."

The dragon's tale was disconcertingly similar, though, and Aetes would need to share it with Rehema later, perhaps even Seteta.

"If the Inizae are to mingle with the dragons again... I suspect that will be Seteta's decision," Aetes said thoughtfully. "Are you able to write out a translation of the document? Rehema and I can both read a few different Abtat scripts, as well as Common."

Aetes ignored Nestor's strange indignance. It seemed the best way to let the man blow off whatever steam he needed. Physically, the priest's attraction had not gone away simply because it was... someone else in Rheinhard's head at the moment. But Rheinhard had said he could see everything that was happening. And Aetes didn't know Nestor at all. He wouldn't risk whatever was budding with Rheinhard over a playful moment.

He also suspected that any answer he gave to Nestor's comment about a god needing an estate would be found lacking.

Chaceledon said:
He read frustratingly for a moment, then eyed Aetes. “Your thrice-damned god messed with the Well, didn’t he? I came out of darkness this time. Like I was asleep.”
Click to expand...

Aetes looked over and shrugged. "I can honestly say I have no idea what Abtatu did with the Well. I wasn't there with Rheinhard in the Cleansing."
 
“I can. It’s not that complex a document. Just…fancy, as most things involving dragons are. You keep this safe in the archives and keep quiet about it…even to Chaceledon. Dragons have maintained one quality that has persisted throughout individuals and time; greed.” Nestor said in a clipped tone, searching around for a piece of paper. He sifted through the scrolls and found one in decent repair. “Water Treatises? This’ll do.” He flipped it over. A pen and ink, or at least charcoal from the braziers, and he was off to work translating the spun glass scroll.

Nestor sighed and rested his cheek in his hand. “Hundreds of years I’ve spent studying this spell from the inside out, and your god changes the fabric on a whim. Losing time to a dark hallway is one thing; at least people visit. Darkness putting you to sleep, not sure if Carruth’s hand is on you at long last? Some will hate it.” He set down the pen a moment. “Do you realize what you’re doing giving Rheinhard hope? Giving any of us hope? It’s better to cut it off now. End it. Before we inevitably drive you off. You’re courting madness and no amount of embraces will save you from this spell. It taints everything.”

He shook his head and turned back to his work. “I hope you’re prepared, is all, and if you’re not…forget him and us.”

Nestor, for his part, hoped that Seteta was right. He hoped that she could find a way to give them peace. She couldn’t solve all of the evil that had been done to them even if she had twenty thousand years dedicated to it, and neither did they want her to. Nestor didn’t want to be fixed. He didn’t want to be sent to the afterlife. He wanted to study, and learn, and watch the world grow. He studied the Well to help the others out of it, that he might finally slow the chatter and drama.

He set aside the translation. “Done.” He said simply. He paused in thought. “Are there any legends of Inizae bearing dragon scales?” He asked.

That would prove the link between the two peoples. Dragons only gifted scales to their most trusted servants. Perhaps even friends or lovers. Nestor had no doubt that if Seteta so much as asked, Chaceledon would adorn her in as many scales as she could desire.
 
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"Perhaps hope is what he needs," Aetes answered. "After so long with this curse... how will he, or any of you, ever find your way out of it if you don't believe it's even possible?"

Chaceledon said:
He set aside the translation. “Done.” He said simply. He paused in thought. “Are there any legends of Inizae bearing dragon scales?” He asked.
Click to expand...

Aetes hummed thoughtfully, resting his chin on his clasped hands. It was several moments before he spoke.

"I'm not sure," he answered at last. "There are... stories of some of the pharoahs and their guards who wore strangely bright armor that was impenetrable and nearly invincible. But other than that... I don't know if there's anything that says they were made of dragon scales."


Seteta took a breath and dove back beneath the surface of the oasis as she swam back to shore. She doubted she'd been out in the water for more than an hour, but forcing herself to focus on the present--the water lapping against her skin, the way her lungs would burn for air when she submerged herself and tested that limit, the heat of the sun contrasting with the coolness of the water--had helped her feel a little less overwhelmed by the past and the future.

She stretched when she climbed back out onto the shore, throwing her abaya back on over her damp skin and barely squeezing the excess water out of her hair. She waved and smiled to a few of the acolytes that she passed, recognizing many of them, before heading across the expanse of sand that separated the camp from the temple grounds.

The camp was a flurry of activity. All of the campfires were busy, surrounded by chattering Inizae. She spotted Keket at one point, but didn't go over to speak to her. She was Hassani was nearby.

When she finally spotted Chaceledon's fiery head of hair, she couldn't help but smile, and wove her way through the elves to reach his side.

"Rheinhard hasn't asked for his knives back yet," she said, slipping her hand into her lover's, "so I assume he is still with Aetes in the temple?"

Ausar leaned over and kissed Seteta's forehead before grabbing an armful of... something--Seteta wasn't really paying attention, and assumed it was decorations of some kind--and scurrying off for a moment. The celebration wouldn't begin until closer to sundown, so she would have time to rest and change.

Chaceledon
 
Nestor sighed. “I’ve studied it for centuries and I know it’s next to impossible. Perhaps he should have taken the deal, the sentimental idiot.” He pursed his lips a moment. “Almost invincible and brightly colored…could be anything from a God’s blessing to true dragon scale.” He stood, and scattered a bit of sand from the floor over the ink to encourage it to dry. “What is this celebration, then? You do know Id rather be here than listening to that nonsense.”

He looked up at Aetes, one eyebrow raised. “If it’s some sort of silly cultural affair, I’m sure I would be permitted to stay here.” He ventured. He would rather spend the evening in peace than listen to the elves chatter.

__________________________

Chaceledon was in a flurry. He was helping make glass blown lanterns for the party; clusters of round balls blown by hand and lit with magelight. He had shaped a few with teardrops or streaks, providing some variation. Hassani was helping him arrange, being no stranger to Pedeon parties and planning for them. The pair seemed to work flawlessly together, arranging rugs, areas for food and dancing, ensuring the area was well lit.

Chaceledon constructed a pair of archways from blown glass, giving framework to their little camp. He was standing back and critiquing Hassani’s way of draping fabric when Seteta came to clasp his hand.

“Nestor is probably boring him to tears with documentation talks.” Chaceledon chuckled. “I suppose it can’t be helped, he’s got to get used to the lot of them if he’s going to woo Rheinhard. They come as a package, that lot. Though if he can handle Nestor and Klaus it will cut a lot of ice with the others…Hassani! Drape around the supports don’t just toss it over the top! Fold like I told you!” he barked at the elf.

Hassani sighed and did as he was told, eyeing Chaceledon for approval. The dragon scrutinized his work for a moment, and nodded. “Go rest, darling. I think you ought pick out a few representatives from the Volker’s and see how they feel about the Inizae. After all, they should start being around for these sorts of things. We can’t keep them asleep forever.” Chaceledon kissed her cheek, and frowned at Ausar. “Oh good lord don’t rumple those…I swear it’s like you’ve never thrown a party before.”

He hurried over to help Ausar with some of the rugs and seating arrangements. Clearly, the Inizae needed more help than glass lanterns could provide. The latticework of glass above them would keep them warm even in the desert night, and the cloth draped over them was strategically placed to keep warmth in while not obstructing the best views of the desert sky.

“I think this is probably the first party I’ve been to with dragonglass.” Hassani complimented shyly as Chaceledon came to fuss over some of the drapings.

“If only Nica were here. That water of his was such a gift when it came to purifying glass…it’s a liquid you know, just so thick it stays still. Never quite solidifies.” Chaceledon smiled sadly.
 
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Aetes chuckled as Nestor made his argument to stay in the temple archives, his eyes twinkling. "I believe that Rehema has specifically asked for Rheinhard to attend," he answered, then shrugged.

"It's a celebration of life," Aetes explained. "We do not gather in large groups often, because of incidents like what happened at the thermal springs. So anytime we are together for more than a night, or two, we celebrate that we are still alive. That we have been able to see our families and friends once more. Tonight, we're also celebrating Seteta and Chaceledon's engagement, though, and Rehema's pregnancy."

He grinned teasingly.

"We do have a few hours yet before that, though."


Chaceledon was clearly in his element at the moment, even if the camp was looking for more... fancy for a party than Seteta could ever recall having seen before. She pinched him when he scolded her father, though.

"Be nice," she murmured. "Just because the Inizae celebrate simply doesn't make our parties less worthwhile."

She tugged Chaceledon down for a kiss before he was hurrying away again. "Come help me dry my hair soon?" she asked, then quietly laughed and shook her head as he began rearranging rugs again.

She headed back to her parent's tent, taking a few minutes to squeeze the water out of her still-dripping hair and wipe off her sandy feet. Once in their shared room, she changed into a dry abaya and sprawled across the bed, spreading her hair out to dry on its own until Chaceledon came. Then she propped her knees up with a pillow, and closed her eyes, descending into the Well.

"Rheinhard?" she called as she stepped out of the office, cautiously looking around, curious about what changes Abtatu had wrought on the spell.

Chaceledon
 
Nestor cocked an eyebrow and wandered among the shelves, examining the scrolls carefully. “Incident at the thermal springs? The fae will always be around and always use other creatures for their games. If the humans have to live with their child-snatching, having the Lord of Luck turn up at your doorstep isn’t the worst thing to happen.” He huffed and gently pulled a scroll free, examining it. He carried it over to the table and slowly, carefully opened it.

“You could have just killed Rosebury, you know. Zombies like Oscar are easily torn apart with that magic of yours, and choking his master with sand would have been laughably simple. It’s a wonder you don’t destroy every capture team Persian sends after you.” He muttered, his eyes flicking back and forth over the scroll’s contents.

A few hours? Why said in that tone? Nestor looked up to meet Aetes’ eyes. “Don’t get cute with me, I plan to stay in charge and absorb as much of this as possible. I swear, I’m happy the others are asleep. If Aron so much as heard the word alcohol you would all be in trouble. Gere sleeps with anything with a pulse and that little bitch Aluid is sheer trouble.”

Nestor read like a man possessed. He ate up scroll after scroll, sometimes thoroughly reading the information and other times only glancing at it for a few seconds. He could always review the shards, and it saved him time.

He pulled down a final scroll as the sun set, and set it down on the table. It was coated with a sheet of dust, so thick he couldn’t just blow it off and had to carefully use a sleeve. He unrolled it, patiently, his eyes scanning the words. Unfurling the last of it, he sucked in a quick breath. Shaking fingers pulled a palm sized object free from the scroll; a scale about the size of a palm. It was beautifully shaped, the color of sunset shot through with tiny streaks of orange and pink. It was rimmed in orange so dark it was bordering on brown, and shimmered when it caught the light.

“What…exactly…” Nestor began slowly. “…did your people have to do with the dragons?”

He set the scale down on the table. It was curled ever so slightly from being trapped in the scroll, but it tinkled like the sound of chimes against the table. “A gift from Dahn Hedoni, thanking your people for the hospitality.” Nestor said heavily. “This is the scale of Saltarello, the founder of Dahn Hedoni. This is written in Abtati.” He tapped the scroll with a finger. “Dragons don’t speak like this. They don’t talk about…about food and wine and bedding non-dragons.”

Nestor watched the scale suspiciously. It sang with magic…he reached out and stroked down the length of it with a finger.

Pink and orange mist rose from it, making Nestor yank back his hand as if burned. Slowly, it coalesced into a dragon. Fat and sleek with health, certainly one of the largest, its coils spilling around the table like a python. The dragon looked up at Aetes and laughed, throwing its head back in mirth.

It climbed to its feet, and to Nestor’s shock began to dance. It leapt and scampered around the table, twisting itself into loops and leaping through them. Jumping and curling and blowing tiny gouts of bright pink flame. Nestor had never seen a dragon so happy. So…silly. The head of a Dahn rolling and racing and prancing? No dragon would be caught dead!

As suddenly as it began, it vanished. The scale became dull, and to Nestor’s horror, crumbled into dust.

“No!” Nestor reached for it, but the scale was little more than glittering powder.

_______________________

In the Well, Rheinhard was quietly watching through eyes Nestor controlled. It consumed an entire portion of the sand sheet cloaking the depths of the Well. He looked over at Seteta when she came in, and waved her over. He pointed at the little illusion on the table. A healthy dragon, no ribs showing and shining with beauty, dancing.

“Nestor is finding more and more interesting things…” Rheinhard told her quietly. “The others are asleep. Not suspended. Asleep.” He nodded to the hallway. A cacophony of snores could be heard.
 
Aetes followed behind Nestor in the library. "Might I remind you that for the most part, the majority of the Inizae have avoided the fae for millennia," Aetes pointed out with a scowl as he steadied the books and scrolls around whatever one would catch Nestor's eye. "And we have, in the last few centuries especially, destroyed Persian's... capture teams. But that also means Persian is becoming more desperate. I'm certain he needs new bloodlines to fortify the descendants he has bred."

He just arched a brow and stayed silent when Nestor stated his intention to stay in control as long as possible. Rheinhard had said, though, that ultimately Seteta controlled who was... inhabiting Rheinhard's body. If Nestor refused to leave, she could make him.

Aetes didn't push the issue for now, though, and just occupied himself with sorting through the translations that Nestor did, and working on some study projects of his own, a comfortable silence falling over the archives for a while. When the afternoon light faded, Aetes made sure the lamps around the archives were lit.

When Nestor brought over the final scroll, though, Aetes set aside his own work, watching curiously as Nestor dusted off the scroll and carefully unrolled it, lamplight glinting off of something within it.

"Is that..." The priest's voice stilled as Nestor plucked out the large scale.

Chaceledon said:
“What…exactly…” Nestor began slowly. “…did your people have to do with the dragons?”
Click to expand...

"I don't know," Aetes whispered. "Too much has been lost to time and war."

Aetes watched, entranced, when Nestor triggered the spell trapped within the scale. Almost laughed himself as the illusion of a dragon spilled across the table. But it vanished so quickly, and it was only at Nestor's cry that Aetes realized the scale itself had disintegrated.

The priest reached for the Volker's hand, patting it comfortingly. "We are fortunate to have seen it at all," he said. "It had to be at least twenty-thousand years old, if not thirty. Not even magic lasts forever."


"That's incredible," Seteta murmured as she sat beside Rheinhard, folding her knees up to her chest, though she sighed sadly when the illusion disappeared, the scale on the table crumbling to dust. "I wish Chaceledon would have been there to see it."

She chuckled, though, when Rheinhard mentioned the snores.

"It is good that they sleep," she murmured. "At least then they can dream, and I'm sure Abtatu will make sure they do not have nightmares."

She took a deep breath then, and looked around the Well, keeping part of her attention on what was happening with Aetes.

"It... doesn't feel like a prison anymore, does it?" she asked. "It feels like a place of rest now, at least to me. The air is sweet, instead of stagnant."

She looked over at Rheinhard again, then. "Mut would like you to be at the celebration tonight," she said. Well, Rehema hadn't said that precisely, but if she intended to invite Rheinhard to join the tribe, he would need to be there. "And Chaceledon suggested I wake some of the others who would be interested in the Inizae... I presume in a friendly way and not a murderous one." Not Klaus.

Chaceledon
 
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Nestor yanked his hand away. “That dragon felt strongly enough about his time with your people to send that. Your people weren’t just allies. They were friends. From what Chaceledon has told me of his culture…dragons don’t have friends. They have marriages and alliances of convenience. No dragon alive today would send a spell like that. You meant something to them.” He murmured.

He looked over the scroll. “Damn ink has faded to nothing.” He growled. “I can’t read a quarter of this.” Nestor laid it aside and looked at the small pile of dust on the table. “What could have happened between Dragons and Inizae to turn you into weak-willed cowards and they into a dying race of arrogant fools?”

Nestor stared blankly at the table, his mind running through the possibilities. The dragons would never have let Persian hunt the Inizae if they were still allies. Dragons were universally possessive, and Chaceledon proved they could be loyal. It had to have been something titanic. Nestor loved puzzles, and he was thoroughly engrossed in this one.

He could feel the gentle pressure that was Seteta’s presence. With Oor it had felt oppressive, like a hand on the back of his neck. With Seteta it was more…comforting. She brought peace to the spell. He eyed the lamps. That meant no natural light, which likely meant his time was up.

“Do some investigating.” He grumbled at Aetes. “We’ll return here and do more later.”

____________________

“Chaceledon can come into the Well and see it.” Rheinhard sat down next to her, frowning in thought. “It feels calmer. There will always be menace and suffering here, but it feels restful with their sleep instead of straining against the spell to wake.”

He sighed. “If the Inizae are to accept me, they must accept all of me. And you cannot keep hiding from Klaus if you want any respect from the others.” Rheinhard told her. “Oor was able to control him. You must do so as well, and not just putting him to sleep. Just because he is madder than the rest of us doesn’t mean he cannot experience cruelty. It will be a slow dance until you two learn to live with one another.”

Rheinhard rested his chin on his knees, thinking. “Aron would be a good representative. Nestor as well, though he will think it stupid. Gere. Perhaps Lansom, though he is shy. Atacama. Jason…Jess or Klaus but not both. They set each other off. They are not immediately violent especially if they’re given something more interesting to watch. Less likely to attack with several of the others awake as well. Nestor doesn’t suffer Klaus’ aggression and Aron despises him.”

He looked at Seteta, a flicker of nervousness on his face. “I am worried about staying here without you. What if I hurt someone?”
 
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"Perhaps it was always an anomaly," Aetes mused, pulling his hand back. "Maybe dragons as a whole didn't... mingle with the Inizae. Just one or two dahns."

As Nestor stared at the table thoughtfully, Aetes gathered up the scrolls they'd pulled out and set them aside to return to later, then smiled and shook his head amusedly when Nestor ordered him to keep investigating.

"I'll have the acolytes check the records, look for anything that might be seen as... dragonish. And we can send word to the other traveling groups as well, start collecting records of the oral stories the different families might have."

"I can think of one," Rehema spoke quietly from the door into the Holy Place. Aetes turned toward her. She was leaning against an acolyte, and her face was slightly pale and sweat beaded on her brow.

Aetes hurried over and lifted the smaller woman into his arms then settled her into a chair. "Bring salted water," he told the acolyte, who nodded and hurried away.

"I'll be fine," Rehema reassured Aetes, reaching up to squeeze his hand. "I just need water, and rest."

Then she took a deep breath and turned back to Nestor.

"One of the tales I recall from my own childhood... well," she laughed softly. "We Inizae have many creation stories. But they all have Abtatu and dragons in them, in some way. Some speak of the dragons as... guardians of the desert, though not as children of Abtatu. There are only a few which speak of the dragons as our brethren, rather than... animals. And even then... there is one story in particular that always intrigued me.

"It calls the dragons 'Abtatu's Firstborn.'"


Seteta nodded. "I think he would have appreciated seeing it more in person, though," she murmured, but smiled over at Rheinhard as he settled next to her.

She nodded quietly when he spoke of Klaus. "I am not... purposely ignoring him," she said. "But I will admit that I have perhaps been overly cautious. I am certain of one thing, though: tonight is not the night. Not with Muti here, and her own history with your family. Not on a night of celebration. I have not seen my people in months, and I've just learned I'm going to be a sister by this time next year. I will not be able to enjoy my time with them if I have to worry about Klaus."

Her lips pursed in thought as he mentioned ones to wake, or keep awake. "Nestor, obviously," she laughed softly. "I think he would stop teaching me Draconian if I forced him asleep for tonight. I will wake Aron again then, and... Jess. There are aspects of Inizae culture that I think might be healing for her. And Lansom and Gere, then."

She stood to head to the hall, but couldn't helping smiling as Rheinhard continued to speak.

Chaceledon said:
He looked at Seteta, a flicker of nervousness on his face. “I am worried about staying here without you. What if I hurt someone?”
Click to expand...

"I was going to ask if you wanted to stay, when we went back to the estate," she said. "I know Chaceledon expects you to return, but... I think some independence might do you good. And I don't say that because I don't enjoy your company."
 
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Nestor looked up when Rehema entered. He watched Aetes pick her up so effortlessly…he made small, delicate motions with his hand near his throat. Chaceledon had done the same when he was first looking at Seteta. Nestor couldn’t resist wandering his gaze down Aetes’ back as he settled Rehema into the chair. Perhaps Rheinhard was attracted to him for a reason.

He listened closely to Rehema, standing and walking over to her. He looked down at her, pursing his lips. “Abtatu’s firstborn. There is a connection somewhere, but there must be something more concrete than oral histories. We Volkers have our own oral histories too, and I can say I’ve investigated every one…most of the time they lose credibility in three generations.”

Nestor folded his arms. “What is the story?” He asked.

_______________________

Rheinhard nodded. “There will be a time and a place for his gentling.” He agreed. He smiled faintly at the idea of denying Nestor the chance to come back and study. “You are right, in fact I think Nestor would begin teaching you obscenities just in time for your wedding.”

He rose to accompany her to the hallway, folding his arms across his chest. He looked down at his feet. “Jess will still need guidance.” He muttered, and looked over at her. “I love my mother, but I have to try to…live. I have finally found something I want to pursue. To that end we must learn to do things as a team.”
 
"Please, sit," Rehema spoke, gesturing to the nearby chairs as the acolyte returned with the salted water and a light blanket. The priestess leaned forward to let the acolyte drape the blanket around her shoulders, then took the cup--carved from sandstone--with a quiet thank you. "Don't make me strain my neck staring up at both of you."

Rehema took a few sips, grimacing a little at the underlying saltiness, but with as much as she'd sweated she knew she needed it. Then she leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

"What is the story?" she murmured, letting her mind wander back to her childhood, when one of her own grandmothers had told the story at the fire.

"Abtatu is the god of the desert," she spoke softly, her voice almost taking on a sing-song quality. "But not the only god. Abtatu made the expanses of the sands, drew the oases out of the depths of the earth, and as the world began to slowly age and fill with all sorts of creatures, Abtatu made the dragons.

"The dragons were his delight. They loved the sands, basking in the heat of the sun like the snakes, and discovering that with their fire they could make glass. Over time, though, Abtatu's gaze shifted toward other lands, growing curious about the creatures the other gods had made.

"One creature in particular caught Abtatu's eye. It stood on two legs, and uttered melodic sounds from its mouth, and had beautiful bodies. Some short and stout, some tall and graceful as the palm trees. But they were short-lived. In the time that it took the dragons to reach adulthood, these other creatures would be fully grown, and their children's children would have babes.

"So Abtatu began another creation. The Inizae. In shape and appearance, they were similar to the two-legged mammals Abtatu had observed. But they had longer lives, and where most--but not all--of the short-lived creatures were fair, the Inizae had darker skin to protect them from the desert sun, and delicately pointed ears just because Abtatu liked the way they looked.

"Abtatu taught the Inizae the ancient language spoken by the others, but since our god had little sense of time in those days, it had already morphed and changed, so our language has more in common with the ancient tongues than the modern languages of the elves.

"And that... is all I recall," Rehema sighed. "We have many stories of how Abtatu was revealed to us, but I do not know if there ever was a tale of how the dragons and the Inizae met the first time, or how they parted ways."

Rehema opened her eyes, her lips twitching mischievously, in a similar way that Seteta's often did. "But there is one more part to the legend. The dragons may have been Abtatu's firstborn... but the Inizae are said to have been Abtatu's favorite."

She sighed and took another sip of her water.

"We should head back to the camp soon. I will need to change for the celebrations. Tell me what you have found here while we walk."


Seteta reached over and gently patted Rheinhard's forearm. "You need the chance to live a life of your own. To discover what your life might be without Oor commanding every step of it."

Then she took a deep breath and faced the hall where the Volkers now slept.

"They will all need guidance," Seteta agreed as they stood at the entrance. "I'll wake Aron and Lansom first, and Jess last... will Aron and Lansom be able to help you, if she causes any issues?"

They stepped into the hall, then, and Seteta's voice fell into hushed silence as she looked around.

It was the same, essentially. There were still pedestals with names lining the way. Hundreds of men still stood atop them. But rather than standing tall and stiff, frozen in place and their bodies fighting to breathe... they were relaxed. Snores were heard all around them, and eyes were closed. Many of them stood in place, suspended by some sort of magic that kept them from falling over, but others were curled up on their pedestals, arms cushioning their heads as they... slept.

They reached Aron first, and Seteta woke him by reaching out to grasp his hand. "It has been several hours since we entered the temple," she told him. "But it is still the same day."

Seteta continued down the line, passing Jess, though her eyes saddened for a moment to see that it was still a man that stood there. The pedestal though... it did not say Jason. It said Jess, and Seteta realized that Abtatu had given whatever gift was permitted.

She continued down to Lansom, and smiled as he woke. "Hello, Lansom," she said. "My name is Seteta. If you can wait a few moments, I have one more to wake, and then I will explain what's going on."

Seteta went back down the aisle, and woke Gere, saying something similar to him before she returned to Jess's pedestal, and looked over at Rheinhard. "Ready?" she asked, then reached out to touch Jess's hand.
 
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Nestor listened, glancing at Aetes. “If your kind was the favorite…dragons don’t take kindly to being second fiddle. At all. Chaceledon goes mad if another man is better dressed, has a better home, or garnishes more attention than himself. He is a deeply jealous and vain creature, and from what he’s described most of his kind are. They wouldn’t have stood for it if the god fawned over another. If this is true at all, anyway. Oral histories are a terrible way to relate information and you should have written them down.”

Nestor rose from his seat and paced a bit. “I found a note from a dragon thanking the Inizae for their hospitality…it came with the gift of a scale. That scale crumbled, after showing myself and Aetes a vision of a dragon dancing. It came from Dahn Hedoni, and the dragon dancing…I believe, anyway, was Saltarello. The head of that family. The other I found was a death notice for a dragon named Oolong as well as the deed to his estate. That last one is important, mind you. You show up at that location and you can prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that you own that building.”

Nestor cocked an eyebrow. “Might I suggest you use it as shelter from Persian, or a library? The records you have here could use a real archive, and this way you won’t lose your stories to bad memories. You can return there and write them down so they persist through the ages.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, thinking. “I’d really rather skip the party and study here.”

___________________

Aron blinked, and stepped down. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “Gods, it’s like I was asleep.” He muttered. Rheinhard nodded.

“You were. The Abtati god will put them to sleep now, not frozen.” He pointed at Klaus. His face twitched in sleep, and his snoring was like loud, rumbling growling. Drool dropped off his lip.

Aron shuddered. “I think I prefer him being half suffocated.” He muttered.

Lansom yanked in a deep breath, his eyes going wide at the sight of Seteta. “What? Who are you?” He asked, startled. He climbed down off his pedestal and hurried over to Aron and Rheinhard. He watched her wake Gere, who blinked and almost rolled right off his platform.

“Hey! Lady!” Gere scrambled up as she approached Jess. He skidded in front of her, holding his hands up. “Listen, you don’t want to do that. Trust me. He’s insane. I lived with him for twenty five years and he hated my guts.”

“She is the new owner of the Well, she does as she pleases.” Rheinhard said coldly. “Move or I will do it for you.” He bared his teeth, and Gere slowly moved aside.

“I bet you a bottle of rum the crazy bitch goes for Gere’s eyes.” Aron whispered to Lansom, holding out his hand. Lansom slapped his palm with his own.

“Bet you a drug memory it’s his balls.” Lansom replied in a low voice.

Jess’ eyes flew open. Her luminous blue eyes took in the sight of the woman before her, Gere standing nervously to the side, and the pair of Volkers whispering to each other. Rheinhard lowered his head on his shoulders. She climbed down shakily.

“You son of a bitch,” she snarled at Gere. “I had him. You had to run like the cowardly little bitch you are!” She lunged at him. Gere swore and took off down the hallway, Jess in hot pursuit.

“You blew up the room! What was I supposed to do sit and smolder?!” Gere shouted. Jess tackled him to the floor and scrambled up, kicking him viciously between the legs.

Aron uttered a small groan of defeat and Lansom grinned. “Going well so far.” Lansom chuckled.

“You were supposed to help me kill him!”

“How the fuck would I know what you were pl-OW!”

“Fuck you!”

Gere curled into a ball, protecting his face and genitals from a flurry of angry blows. “Get off me you crazy bastard! That was decades ago!”
 
"If any of it is true, yes," Rehema conceded with a smile as Aetes rose and helped her to stand. "But all histories start from some grain of truth. It wouldn't surprise me if there was jealousy at the heart of the matter."

As Nestor paced and talked, Aetes led her over to the table and showed her the scrolls and the pile of dust from the dragon scale.

"Can you mark it on a map?" she asked Nestor. "Where this estate is?"

Chaceledon said:
He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, thinking. “I’d really rather skip the party and study here.”
Click to expand...

"I need Rheinhard to attend," she told Nestor with a patient smile, then turned back to Aetes. "I'm sorry to impose on you, but will you help me back to the camp as well?"

Aetes nodded, but went over to Nestor quickly. "Don't argue with her, and just come. It will be worth your while for Rheinhard to be there tonight."


"Rheinhard has assured me that you are all insane to some degree," Seteta said with a teasing smile as Gere warned her off of trying to wake Jess. However, as soon as Jess was awake... Seteta had no chance for anything. She sighed and crossed her arms as Gere and Jess had their scuffle. When Gere curled up into a ball, Seteta cleared her throat.

"Stop," she ordered, quietly but with authority, and when she had their attention, she began to speak.

"My name is Seteta. For most of you, the last time you were awake was when the Well was destabilized in Vel Anir. That was several weeks ago..." she paused for a moment, brow furrowing. "A couple months, actually, at least. Maybe three. A lot has changed since then.

"I am engaged to Chaceledon," she continued. "And Oor does not control the Well anymore. I do. We are in Amol-Kalit, with my tribe. I am one of the Inizae. Any urgent questions?"

She waited for a moment, then continued.

"Tonight my tribe will be having a celebration. Chaceledon and Rheinhard and I think it's important for you three especially--and Nestor--to be awake for this. I will have to return another day and answer most of your questions though. The celebration will begin soon and I still have to change."
 
“I’ll mark it on a map. But the place will have wards. Bring the deed, it’s likely the key to the place.” Nestor told her. “And bring me. I can’t emphasize that enough. If this was hanging under your nose for thousands of years I can’t imagine what you people will be like stumbling in to a dragon’s estate. I imagine something akin to letting a pack of drunks into a glass exhibition.”

Nestor raised an eyebrow at Aetes, but said little as the other man led them out. He still wanted control for a little while; he could feel a headache beginning at the back of his skull. The others were awake. This was his last chance to drink in peace. He hovered at the door to the archives, looking back at the tables and scrolls. Then he gave a heavy sigh and relinquished control.

Rheinhard stumbled and grabbed the wall. He hadn’t been ready for such a sharp transition. He blinked, shaking his head and letting his eyes adjust. It took a few moments, but he was able to straighten and walk out of the temple.

_____________________

Jess was forced to stop at the order. Gere gratefully sat up, shuffling away from the murderous stare of his sire. He stood up slowly, using another Volker for support, and made his way back toward the others. All of their eyes widened at her words, and the questions started.

“You’re marrying Mom?” Lansom blurted.
“Congratulations.” Aron smirked at her.
“Celebration…” Gere went pale. “Is that why you woke me..?”
“What better way to impress the tribe than to bring out the resident cum rag?” Jess sneered.

“Shut up!” Nestor snarled, stalking into the hallway. “Seteta is not like Oor was. Oor is still alive, somewhere, and likely plotting. The last thing anyone needs is your petty bullshit from when you were alive. You.” He pointed at Jess. “Will behave.”

“Wait! What do we have to do?” Lansom asked, rubbing his arm nervously. “What are we going to fight? I need at least a few hours in the Arena to get my bearings.”

“Seconded. And you better have my bandolier.” Jess growled.

“You’re not fighting anything.” Aron said reassuringly. “I…don’t think?” He looked to Seteta for reassurance. “Listen, I’ve hung out with this girl. She seems like a good egg. She helped Mom escape to the desert, and he’s doing well.”

“Of course that fat lizard gets a happy ending while the rest of us rot in this prison. Why is there fucking sand everywhere?” Jess demanded.

“Oor’s element is darkness, hers is earth, doesn’t take a genius.” Nestor muttered, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Wait a fucking moment. How long have you been awake?” Gere frowned. “I thought there’s usually four or five awake at a time.”

“A few weeks. The benefit of actually having a brain is being able to educate our new master. She’s becoming passably competent in Draconian.” Nestor lifted his chin.
 
Aetes carefully swept Rehema up into his arms and led the way out of the temple. When Nestor hesitated, Aetes paused and turned back.

"You'll get to see it again, and we'll make sure you have more time," the priest promised. "Probably within the next day or two."

He saw the moment when it was no longer Nestor, but Rheinhard again, though he said nothing as the man regained his bearings. Rehema's breathing was soft and steady, her head resting against his shoulder. She had clearly fallen asleep, and Aetes made sure to keep his gait smooth as he began walking the long expanse between the temple and the camp.

"Welcome back," Aetes murmured when Rheinhard was nearby. "Did you... see? When Nestor kissed me?"

Aetes didn't necessarily want to have this conversation walking across the cooling sands in the dark with the high priestess asleep in his arms... but he didn't know when else he'd have the time, and he wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

In the distance, the glow of firelight could be seen, and the chatter and laughter of voices could be heard.


Seteta sighed with relief as the scuffle ended, the Volkers slowly gathering back near her.

She blushed and nodded, a smile teasing over her lips, when Lansom blurted out his question, then rolled her eyes as Aron congratulated her... again. But somewhere in the midst of that, Rheinhard disappeared.

Seteta smiled as Nestor came back into the hall, even as he chided the others and the chatter resumed. She blushed again when Nestor actually complimented her.

"No one's fighting anyone tonight... hopefully," Seteta said, clearing her throat and turning her attention back to the whole group. "My mother will be extending an offer to Rheinhard tonight, to join our tribe. Chaceledon specifically suggested all of you to be awake while we are with the Inizae. I don't know why, exactly, but I trust there is a reason.

"However... we will likely have some guests at the celebration tonight. Lord Rosebury, and Oscar Viotto, and..." Seteta's gaze grew somber as her voice trailed off for a moment. "Persian de Soto."

She glanced down, her fist clenching at her side, and when she looked back up her eyes were bright and fierce, though her voice was calm when she spoke again. "I assume most of you know of Persian's obsession with the Inizae? What he has done to my people over the millennia? Tonight, I would ask that you watch him. Rheinhard might be... distracted. So if you notice anything, please let me know."
 
“I saw your disinterest.” Rheinhard leaned in to kiss Aetes’ cheek. “I did not think Nestor the type. He has always spurned relationships even when they were freely offered.” He walked close to Aetes, taking comfort in his presence as they walked. He only hesitated when the loud chatter drew near; he didn’t like crowds on principle, but it was important to the Inizae that he be there. He hurried to catch up to the priest.

Chaceledon was, of course, in the midst of the celebration. He was wearing gold diaphanous cloth that swathed his body and flared at his elbows. It was a wrap dress from the waist down, hugging his figure and loosening about the knees so he could walk properly. A crown of spun glass adorned his head, and he’d braided his long hair so as to not distract from the garment. Hassani was quietly talking to Keket, smiling and laughing with her.
____________________

Nestor frowned. “I would say it’s so that the resident chatterboxes know what to gossip about. At the end of the day this is less of a man and more of a community, and it benefits us all to have more than one witness present…even if we can just watch his memories.” He ventured. “Chaceledon has a weakness for many of us as it is. Klaus in particular.”

The Volkers visibly stiffened at the mention of Rosebury and Oscar. Gere’s eyes grew wide at the mention of Persian, and one arm wrapped around his abdomen. “That’s what this is isnt it? It’s happening again. You scheduled this! Rheinhard is getting old…” Gere retched, vomiting against the hallway wall and covering his face. “I can’t do this again…”

Lansom looked visibly pale. “You’re not, are you? Is that why you woke us?”

“If you did then fuck you. The day I watched another one of these planned breedings is the day I take Persian’s head off his fucking shoulders!” Jess spat furiously. “I’ll kill him!”

“Enough.” Nestor barked. “This isn’t like that. Persian is only coming because of the Inizae, not us. Believe me, Seteta, he’s just as obsessed with getting his grubby fingers on the Volker line as he is getting a viable Inizae on the hook. We’ll be watching him.”

“Bullshit. You’re not in negotiations with that motherfucker? Then why is Rosebury here?” Jess demanded.
 
"Freedom can make people reconsider things about themselves that they thought were unchanging," Aetes answered, smiling as he leaned down to accept Rheinhard's kiss. He wished he had a free hand or arm to offer to Rheinhard.

"It wasn't the same, though," Aetes murmured before they reached the camp. "The attraction was there, because it looked like you... but the kiss itself wasn't... right. It didn't feel like you."

Ausar spotted them fairly quickly as they reached the outer edges of the camp. As he led Aetes through the slowly growing throng--not just those who had traveled from the springs, but also the temple acolytes, other priests and priestesses, and their families had gathered for the celebration as well--the priest couldn't but raise a brow and chuckle at the sight of Chaceledon.

"Wait a moment for me?" Aetes asked Rheinhard before he ducked inside the tent to settle Rehema on her bed to rest. The priestess barely stirred, just enough to murmur that she needed to be roused soon.

Ausar covered her with a blanket, then stepped back outside with Aetes.

"You need your weapons retrieved, correct?" Ausar asked Rheinhard.

In the distance, Keket was breaking away from Hassani and heading in their direction.

"I also wanted to ask you about our expected guests," Aetes told Rheinhard. "What hospitalities we might need to prepare for them... if we have time."

Aetes also needed to change, but that could wait until after Rheinhard's weapons had been retrieved.

Keket arrived then, and Ausar asked her to fetch Mesi to look after Rehema for a little while. "Just let me get Seteta, and then we'll make sure Rehema is not left alone," she agreed.


Seteta laughed weakly. "I think even Chaceledon would agree, though, that Klaus would not be appropriate for tonight."

As the others began to panic about Persian's expected presence, though, Seteta paled and shook her head. "Absolutely not," she said fiercely. "I swear on my life, there will be no forced breedings."

She turned to stare down Jess. "Can you, though? Can you kill Persian? The thought is tempting even to me. Especially if he tries to entrap any of my tribesmen here tonight."

Seteta looked around to all the others. "I met Rosebury for the first time earlier today," she said. "I can only guess that he's involved because Persian needed his help tracking our tribe after he planted one of his pets with us.

"Oh, that's another thing. Hassani. He's Inizae, but bred and raised in Pedeo. You'll be able to tell him apart from the rest of easily, I think. If you see him interact with Persian, I need to know right away."

She sighed then, running her hands through her hair. There wasn't enough time right now to explain everything.

"I've been in here too long already," she huffed in frustration. "But... you don't need to worry about Rheinhard as much as you think. Nestor will have to explain, but he's... not as old as he was this morning.

"Sorry," she murmured as she rushed past Nestor to return to the office.


"Abtatu's light, woman, I was about to go get Chaceledon," Keket hissed as Seteta groaned and stretched on the bed. "I couldn't wake you for anything."

"Sorry," Seteta murmured, cringing as she combed her fingers through her hair. "I was... well, it's a lot to explain right now. How late is it?"

"Late enough that the party has already started and you're not even dressed. But we need to check on your mut first and then find Mesi. Ausar asked for Rehema to not be left alone."

"I'll check on her, then," Seteta said as she stood and quickly gathered her things. "You find Mesi, then we can go back to your tent?"

It took longer than either of them would have liked, but when Keket eventually returned with Mesi, Seteta had managed to help Rehema change into a clean abaya to rest in for a while longer. Seteta had agreed to have Rehema fetched at the first sign of their guests arriving, and then she fetched her pile of clothing and ducked out of the tent with Keket.

They stuck close to the tents and the shadows, though Seteta couldn't help but grin slyly as she caught sight of Chaceledon's bright hair glimmering in the firelight, surrounded by Inizae.

"What are you wearing?" Keket asked when they reached her tent.

Seteta grinned and unfurled the dress she carried folded up in her arms.

"Oh that's a lovely shade of green," Keket purred. "What do you have in mind for accessories?"

"I wore this in Pedeo," Seteta said. "He fucked me in this and then proposed. I need gold jewelry, and gold and purple paints if you have them."

Keket gave her a scathing glance. "Of course I have them."


Not even another half hour later, Seteta stepped out of Keket's tent arm-in-arm with the female. She'd swapped out her gold septum ring for a slightly fancier once, lined with delicate gold dots. Fine gold chains with flattened discs of gold were draped across her chest and down her sternum, underneath her gown. An arm cuff--also made of gold chains--was wrapped around her right bicep, and coordinating anklets of chain and clear gems practically dripped off her bare feet.

But beneath all of that, visible where the slits of the dress and the loosely draping bodice fell open with her movement, artful swirls of gold and amethyst were painted across her bare skin.

While the gathered Inizae certainly didn't stop and gawk at Seteta, plenty of them caught sight of her, and their cheers and teasing whistles made her grin.

"There he is," Keket laughed, nudging Seteta toward the fire. "Go get him."

Seteta leaned over and kissed Keket's cheek. "I'll find you later."

Then she fixed her eyes on Chaceledon, edged her way through the crowd gathering around the fire as the singers and musicians--playing flutes and tambourines and drums of stretched goatskin--began to warm up. When she'd caught his attention, she paused in her stride, holding out her arms and twirling around once to let the skirt of the dress flare out slightly, giving him a glance of her legs.

She held out her hand to him as the musician's began their drumbeats, eyes bright and smile wide in invitation.
 
Rheinhard followed Aetes quietly, and waited patiently to retrieve his weapons. He needed his knives on his thigh tonight. Even if there wasn’t expected to be trouble, he still wanted them. There was magic in a Volker’s weapon, magic that made the fingers of fae itch. He took a deep breath.

“There is little we can do, but be hospitable.” He said quietly. “Do not let Persian be alone, and certainly not alone with Rosebury. Watch Oscar. He plants those small golden charms everywhere.” Rheinhard rubbed at his temple. He could feel the remnants in his head arguing. It was like bees buzzing in his skull.

_____________________

Jess locked eyes with Seteta. “I can.” She growled. “I can kill him. I’ll kill him for what he did to me.” Her voice was low, a growl, and her eyes were unblinking.

“There will be no killing Persian.” Nestor snapped. “Are you mad? The greatest engineer in a century-ten centuries and you want to butcher him. Enough of that talk. There is one man we need to kill and that is Oor.”

He watched Seteta leave, and glared at the others. “I am in charge. Anyone who disputes that can meet me in the arena.”

_________________

Chaceledon turned to see Seteta, smiling. His eyes raked over her, alighting with joy. She was radiant. She was blooming life in the desert. She was dripping with gold and green, radiating in the firelight and illuminated by drums and spirit. She held a hand out to him, and he took it softly as though he feared breaking her. Her legs flashed, teasing slices of skin that took his mind far away from the party at hand.

He pulled her into his embrace. His lips met hers and he drew her into a dance, the gold fabric around his body sliding and whispering against hers.

“Karami eh, you are the most beautiful creature on earth.” Chaceledon whispered, taking her near to the fire. He smiled, his magic spreading through his hand to her. He led her into the coals of the fire, protecting their clothing, her skin. None of it would touch her, nor so much as scorch a thread of their clothing. They danced in the fire together, throwing up plumes of sparks and flames.
 
Ausar led them back to the spot in the desert where Seteta had buried the weapons, walking a bit ahead of Rheinhard and Aetes to allow them to converse.

"Trust me, the fae will not be allowed free rein among the Inizae," Aetes agreed. "But I'll see if we can have some diversions for them."

When they reached the spot, it only took a few seconds for him to press his palm to the earth and pull the box of sand out of the earth. Once it had risen to the surface, Ausar just had to tap his finger against the side, and the sand fell away to reveal the roll of knives. Ausar sat back to let Rheinhard retrieve them. There was dark magic seeping from them, and he had no desire to lay a hand on the weapons.

"Seteta and I used to play games like this, when she was young," he said with a wistful smile. "We would hide small objects from each other, and sometimes it would take us days to find them all."

Once Rheinhard retrieved his knives, Ausar stood, but he didn't head back to the camp right away.

"Keep watch over Seteta," Ausar said, his voice quiet and serious. "She is more powerful than she realizes, and while I am glad for your sake, and the sake of my kin, that you are freed of a cruel master and the Volkers will no longer be a threat to us... there is always danger, when two deep wells of magic are in such close proximity to each other."


We do need to kill Oor, Nestor is right about that, Seteta had told Jess through the bond as Keket spread the paint across her body. But no matter how gifted or intelligent someone is, if they enslave those weaker than them, their intelligence is wasted.

Not tonight, but eventually Persian will cross a line. And if he does it in front of me, while Rheinhard is near... it's a risk I'm willing to take. But Persian will have to do something utterly inexcusable, even by Chaceledon's standards.

All thought of that faded away, though, as Chaceledon pulled her into his embrace. She returned his kiss was intensity and passion, wrapping her arms around his neck and trembling lightly at the way the fabric of his robe drifted against her skin.

Chaceledon said:
“Karami eh, you are the most beautiful creature on earth.” Chaceledon whispered, taking her near to the fire.
Click to expand...

She hesitated for a moment as Chaceledon stepped into the fire, then smiled as she felt his magic wrapping around her. It was... different than her own, but still magic nonetheless, and she stepped into the flames. The drumbeats behind her faltered for a moment, but as the fire moved around her and the coals warmed her feet without burning, they picked up again.

"Am I?" she murmured, her fingers tracing over his skin where the fabric laid it bare in his robe as they moved against and around each other in time with the music. "Because I'm pretty sure the most beautiful creature on earth is you."
 
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