Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
“Who else?” Peridot said acidly. She didn’t have time for this. She was trying to get one son married, not bicker with Chaceledon’s woman. She tossed her hair and took Harrier’s arm, smiling at him and whispering into his ear. She needed to secure their invitations to the Nameday, and what better way than to chat up the old lizard?

Chaceledon stared at Hyssop, taken aback by her behavior. “What in the gods’ names is wrong with you? It’s chalk! Every dragon eats it to curb appetite. It’s worked for thousands of years. If it caused issues we would have seen something by now.” he protested, scowling as she tucked the dish into her pocket. She was crazy. “And water bloats.”

He stared at her. She wanted him to eat a fistful of meat?! He stared at the roast birds on the table that hadn’t been touched. His mother would overlook it, surely. He gritted his teeth. “Fine.” Chaceledon grabbed a plate and gingerly looked at the birds. What looked the least greasy? He chose a chicken roasted with lemongrass, and sliced into the breast. He settled it on his plate, and stared at it. It steamed, curling into his nostrils with pepper, salt, and lemon. He blinked. Was that butter crisping the skin?!

Chaceledon selected a pair of chopsticks from a tray and picked up the breast, taking a bite. It was flavorful, juicy. His stomach snarled in response; the last time he ate something this rich they were on the road. He took another bite, and another. There was a small twinge of nausea, but it relieved the ache in his belly. “Happy?” he asked Hyssop, frowning at her and dabbing at his mouth. Some part of him smelled the chicken and desperately desired more. He wanted to eat everything on that table.

He froze when Peridot touched his arm. “Are you alright? You look a little green. Come.” she smiled at Hyssop. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s had quite the traumatic adjustment.”

She took the plate from him and tucked it back behind a candelabra, nodding to the hallway. Chaceledon followed her, and once out of sight she practically frogmarched him to Cassius’ bathroom. It was filled with potted plants and greenery, and natural slabs of slate and granite. The bathtub was sunken into the floor, and surrounded by vines. Peridot shoved aside a palm frond irritably.

“Are you insane?!” she snapped, rifling through the drawers. “You looked disgusting! You didn’t even cover your mouth! My god, do I have to teach you to eat again? Here, take this. I knew he had some somewhere with how much he over eats.”

Peridot set a small black vial in his hand.
 
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Seteta just gave a pointed look toward Cassius as Peridot huffed and turned away, going off with Harrier. She looked around for Chaceledon, but saw... something going on with him and the other dragon. She was stuffing something into her pocket, and Chaceledon seemed... upset.

Hyssop scowled at Chaceledon. "Listen. I don't know where you've been or how long you've been... away," she nearly hissed. "But there are problems. It takes far too long for anyone to clutch, and when they do, most of the eggs die before they hatch, and more and more hatchlings are dying within a few days of hatching.

"But you are in a unique position of not having been exposed to directly to dragon culture for a very long time. If something we are doing--like the chalk--is affecting the birth rates, then there's a possibility that it won't you affect you as strongly, or that even while you've been away some of the damage has reversed itself."

She watched as he selected some chicken, breathing a sigh of relief as he lifted it and took a bite.

"Eat it slowly," she murmured, "and chew it thoroughly. You don't want to upset your stomach."

Hyssop missed Peridot's approach though, and her nostrils flared and eyes flashed as Peridot pulled her son out of the room. She swore under her breath and looked around the room, and her eyes landed on the sand elf.

Seteta was watching at Peridot herded Chaceledon away, her lips tight and jaw clenched. Hyssop hiked up her skirts and hurried over to her.

"You should follow them," Hyssop said. "Peridot is going to try and poison him."

Seteta huffed, and Hyssop could see the resignation in her eyes.

"Will it kill him?" Seteta asked.

Hyssop paused. There were multiple things that Peridot might be forcing into him to make him... purge, but it was unlikely any of them would kill him. Not a single dose, anyway.

"No," she answered.

"Then he's going to have to decide for himself," Seteta murmured, "whether he loves himself enough to respect his body. I have already pleaded with him, multiple times, to eat regularly and take care of himself. He can't do it just because I'm asking. He has to do it for himself."

Hyssop stilled. Seteta's face was... apathetic, but she could hear some sort of heartache in her voice. See it in her eyes.

"Do you know you just got him to eat more in one sitting than I've been able to get him to eat in weeks?" Seteta laughed, then took a step toward the doors, her eyes bright with tears. "Excuse me," she said, her voice cracking. "I'd like to be alone for a little bit."

Hyssop sighed as she watched Seteta slip outside. There was something more going on. She'd seen too many fights between her own parents. This was more than just about the food.

Cassius. She needed Cassius. Blast it all.

She quickly found him with the... gaggle of other dragons, each of them acting so syrupy and flirtatious it almost made Hyssop gag.

"Excuse me," Hyssop said, giving a wry smile to each of them. Her mother was going to be so angry when she heard, but right now Hyssop didn't care. She looped her arm through Cassius' and pulled him aside and stretched up to hiss in his ear, "Peridot just dragged Chaceledon into the bathroom, and Seteta just went outside looking like she was about to cry. What on earth is going on?"
 
Chaceledon looked at the vial in his hand. He’d tried so hard to impress her. Ever since they had returned, she had done nothing but hound him. It was always appearances with her, with other dragons. Even him! What would Seteta think if she could see him now? He unscrewed the vial and set the small brass cap on the counter.

“Take it. Quickly.”

Chaceledon looked up at her. What if Hyssop was right? What if they really were poisoning themselves? After the nausea had passed from eating the chicken a little quickly, he had felt different. Hungry. All he had from Seteta’s mouth was encouragement and love. All he was hearing from Peridot was…

Oor.

He pitched the vial into the plants, and stormed out of the room. He hated it. He hated the posturing. He pulled the pins out of his hair and tucked them away in his robes, letting his hair spill down his back and shoulders. How had he never noticed how much his scalp ached from that?

“Chaceledon!” Peridot hissed behind him. She was carrying herself too well to catch up to him. His mother never actually ran if she could help it. Chaceledon pursed his lips and lengthened his strides. He was taller than she was. To Peridot’s abject horror he swept back into the main room and made a beeline for the banquet.

He had never felt this poorly on the road with Seteta. Even when she was pushing him, and he pushed back, he’d never felt this poorly. What was he trying to be so skinny for? His parents just saw him as a disappointment. Seteta wanted him, just as he was. She was in love with him, not hurting hipbones or a long neck. He grabbed a plate.

Cassius turned Hyssop around and nodded at the table. At Peridot freezing in the middle of the floor, and Hokkaido pausing his conversation like someone had let a goat into the room.

“I think it took a dog’s age for my brother to finally crack.” Cassius whispered with a smile in Hyssop’s ear. “This will be fantastic.”

Chaceledon ripped a leg off of a Turkey with a bodily yank Volker would have been proud of. He added a scoop of rice to his plate, and vegetables, and dumplings. When Peridot touched his shoulder he bit into the turkey leg fiercely. She ripped her hand away with an audible gasp, and the attending dragons stopped to stare. Chaceledon tore off a healthy mouthful.

It was good. Herbs exploded on his tongue and the taste of rich meat flooded his mouth as he chewed. He swallowed. When it hit his stomach something felt right about it. Something ached. Something had been aching for years. He polished off the leg in record time and to Cassius’ barely constrained amusement, put it back on the platter.

He wiped the grease from his mouth with his hand. “I have been trying for so long to be like you. I thought you were always so pretty, mama, so well put together and elegant. I figure if I hadn’t become you by now…I never will be.” Chaceledon looked her in the eyes. She looked frightened.

“Come with me.” Cassius whispered conspiratorially in Hyssop’s ear, and slid out of her grasp to head toward the greenhouse.
He pulled back the sliding door and whistled sharply. “Baylock my beauty I believe it’s looking like rain.”

Peridot took in a deep breath. “You’ve been away. You need to readjust. You weren’t ready to come out tonight-“

“Readjust to what? Starvation? Because the wraith had that covered.” Chaceledon picked up a handful of rice, bare handed, and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed defiantly, and eyed the dessert table. Every eye was on him as he marched over to it, grabbed a tea cup, and put it under the chocolate fountain. He set it on his plate, and to a small chorus of horrified gasps wiped his hand on his clothing. The sound of a woman collapsing in a small but perfectly timed faint, and Chaceledon swept out of the room in the direction Seteta had gone.

He lifted his head slightly, catching her scent and following it. His stomach was churning a bit, but he ate a dumpling defiantly.

In the party hall, mist gathered across the ceiling, and an unyielding sheet of rain poured down on the attendees. Squeals of horror and desperate attempts to save hairstyles and delicate garments from the rain filled the room.
 
Hyssop would never forget what she saw, and she was... equal parts shocked and amused by the time Cassius led her out of the hall. She gaped a little at the greenhouse doors. This was Cassius' private home, and she wouldn't have dreamed of wandering around it without an escort.

"Who's Baylock?" she asked in a whisper. "And... what do you mean rain? It's perfectly clear out."

Then she glanced back worriedly for a moment. Chaceledon would make himself sick if he overindulged too quickly.


Seteta shivered a little, rubbing her arms, as she padded across the courtyard in her bare feet. She should have found her coat before she wandered out. There... wasn't really any place to hide in the courtyard, but she hastened her steps and put as much space between herself and the front door as she could.

Sighing, she crouched down to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. She wished her mother was there. Or her father. Any of them, really. She hadn't gotten a chance to talk with them about what had happened with Rheinhard before they had to leave. She hated the façade of manners and etiquette the dragons displayed. It was all so... convoluted and pointless. Why did it matter who had a skinnier wrist, or threw out the most food after dinner?

She buried her face in her knees and muttered to herself. Her feet were growing numb, but the sandstone beneath them was still a comfort.

When she looked back up, though, she had to rub her eyes.

Chaceledon stood outside the doors. Eating. With chocolate smeared across his robes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a little incredulously, not quite believing what she saw. Maybe she'd finally snapped and was hallucinating.
 
Cassius chuckled, and nodded deeper into the garden. A thunderous rumbling broke through the house, and he heard water cascading down and hitting the floor. “Just sit here a moment. Until everyone clears out.” Cassius smiled at Hyssop. “I figured I’d spare you the water since you took the trouble…and thank you. For pushing my brother.”

___________________

Chaceledon saw her crouched on the sandstone. He came to her and without a word sat down on the ground. The sandstone warmed beneath her feet, and he pulled one arm out of his robe so he could throw it over her shoulders and pull her into his side.

“…Here.” he offered her the teacup full of warm chocolate. “I saw how much you liked the fountain.” He set his plate on the ground and picked up another dumpling, biting into it with a sigh. What had he just done? Torn his reputation to shreds and ruined an outfit, for one.

Why did it feel so damn satisfying?
 
Hyssop startled a little, her eyes widening even further as she caught sight of the rain falling inside the house.

"What sorts of secrets are you hiding in here?" she asked with a shake of her head.

At the thanks, though, she just shrugged. "He approached me," she said. "It was only fair that I would get to pick the topic of conversation after that. I'm just... Glad some of it got through. But I suspect that elf of his has been working at him for a while."


Seteta's tense shoulders relaxed as Chaceledon warmed the stone and the air around them, and she carefully shifted to lean into his side as he wrapped his robe around her.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she took the cup of chocolate, cradling it's warmth in her hands. "It's quite unlike you to ruin silk."

She took a sip of the chocolate, then eyed his plate of dumplings. Her stomach grumbled. She'd barely sampled the food inside, and hadn't had much time to eat that day.
 
“Well I can’t wait for the Nameday ceremony now. I’m certain I saw Harrier hiding a smile at the way he tore into that turkey.” Cassius patted her shoulder. “Youre welcome to come with me to it. I think we ought to become friends if you can convince my brother to ruin silk.”

The dragon chewed his lip. “There is also a more serious matter I’d like to discuss with you eventually. Tell me; do you keep your patients’ secrets?” Hyssop didn’t seem as concerned with dragon society as the others. She was a doctor. Perhaps she could help. He’d been trying to have children with Baylock for a while now…they were married in every sense but formally. It was a natural next step and he wanted to become a father…but how would Hyssop react to it?

___________________

Chaceledon sighed and set the plate of dumplings in front of her. “I was getting nauseous anyway.” he muttered. He’d horked down seven dumplings, an entire turkey thigh and leg, and a huge handful of rice. He hadn’t eaten this much in years, even when they were on the road.

“She wanted me to throw up…and I just got…mad at her. I dumped it in the plants, came out…and made a fool of myself.”
 
Hyssop arched a brow at Cassius' unexpected invitation, but didn't respond to it right away. When he asked about her patients, though, her other brow rose as well.

"I don't discuss my patients with anyone except other physicians," she answered. "And I try not to identify them if at all possible."

He looked nervous.

"I don't know that I would be the best physician for you, though," she continued. "My specialty is fertility, after all."

There were several other physicians she could recommend, though, if needed. He might have a lover on the side, but she figured it was a new relationship.


"Some mint or ginger tea will help settle your stomach," Seteta said as she handed the chocolate back to him and picked up the plate of dumplings. She moaned softly as she bit into one. It was warm and flavorful.

"I don't think I've ever seen you eat this much in one sitting," she said.

After a moment, she reached over and gently squeezed his knee.

"You are not foolish," she said. "You stood up for yourself. If anyone else thinks that was dumb, then they are the fools."
 
Cassius took a deep breath. “I think fertility is exactly the sort of doctor I need, Hyssop. I’d need to swear you to secrecy…you know full well my mother is conspiring to get me married by any means necessary. I wouldn’t want to worry her or put the Dahn at risk.” It was a leap, asking Hyssop. Perhaps he was doing something foolish. She was here, and they were alone, and he didn’t know when he would get such a chance again. It was highly likely that any interactions would be policed by parents of either Dahn to try and prevent bastards.

Cassius settled a hand on her shoulder. “Believe me when I say this is of the utmost importance. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.” He just had to know if it was safe.

___________________

Chaceledon sighed and picked chocolate out from under his fingernails. “I haven’t eaten this much in one sitting in…years.” he muttered. Ever since he’d gotten the idea to try and make himself fat to become more unappealing to Oor. That hadn’t worked well; he’d made himself sick.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Mother and Father are going to be furious with me. For once I think they’re going to empathize with you.” he sighed into her hair and kissed it. Things would be so much easier if he were hedahn…but it would mean leaving his brother. His parents. His family. It would mean losing everything he’d fought so hard to get back to. He wasn’t willing to do that, not yet.
 
Hyssop turned a scrutinizing eye on Cassius. So he did have a woman. That was the only reason she could think that he would need a fertility specialist.

She had to admit she was a little disappointed. Out of all the potential prospects her parents were collecting for her, Cassius had been... very close to the top of the list. She just hadn't been sure if their personalities would mesh.

And she was a little offended.

"Didn't I just say I only discuss my patients with other physicians?" she replied just a bit snippily. "I won't swear a vow of secrecy, but I will be discrete. But I'm still fairly new both to practicing on my own, and dragon fertility is... a complicated issue. I may need to consult someone else, depending on the situation."


"We should see about staying here for the night," Seteta suggested. "You don't want to make yourself sick by eating that much and then flying that far afterward."

She stuffed another dumpling into her mouth then smiled as Chaceledon kissed her forehead and her hair. "And... We need to talk about some things. I'd feel more comfortable doing it here than at your estate, where your parents might overhear."

Then she snorted. "Your parents, empathize with me? You really have gone crazy."

But she nuzzled into his shoulder softly. Dragons--whining and crying and soaked through completely--were beginning to spill out the doors.

"You should make sure Harrier is able to get dry," she murmured. "He's too old to catch a chill."
 
Cassius’ face darkened. She didn’t understand. How could she? She probably thought he was yet another male dragon concerned his seed was running thin, or his wife had been hounding him. His temper flared; he’d thought she of all people could understand the need for secrecy if he asked for it!

“You cannot consult anyone else. Not your parents or siblings, no one.” Cassius hissed. He looked up through the ceiling glass as a rush of air shuddered the panes; his guests were leaving. He felt a slight twinge of relief seeing streaks of dark purple and green; his parents had departed. No doubt he would be getting a lot of furious letters over the ‘prank’. He’d have to send something to his dahna to apologize.

“We’re alone. Your chaperone must’ve left.” Cassius grabbed her hand and led her deeper into the water gardens. They were larger than appeared from the outside of the house, and leveled neatly down the side of the mountain in complex terraces. The greenhouse panes were bubbled above them, protecting the myriads of flowers, plants, fountains, and rare orchids from the blistering sun. The further down they went, the more the humidity increased. It was wetter and wetter; water spilled over the bottom terraces in thin sheets that coated the bricks under their feet. Life bloomed everywhere, and even mosses hungrily devoured sunlight through thin colonies in the space between glass panes.

Then, as the space became wholly claustrophobic, it suddenly widened. Cassius had paned off a cave naturally occurring in the mountainside. There was a gigantic pool of water here, rimmed in moss. The stones were slimy with lichen, and Cassius tugged Hyssop through the last of the foliage.

Baylock rose from the edge of the pool, shock and dismay on her features. Deep inside the water, a long figure pulsed. It had grown fleshy tendrils deep into the very stones to anchor itself, and the egg sac was nothing short of gargantuan. Inside was what appeared to be a half formed dragon; long and rope like, with branching gills that surrounded its face in healthy red frills. Looking closer, it’s skin was pallid and free of scales. Skin was flaking off of it loosely in ragged sheets.

“Can you help us?” Cassius looked at Hyssop pleadingly.

“Cassius!” Baylock spat furiously.

“He’s sick. I don’t know what to do.” Cassius’ eyes filled with tears. She had to help them. He was at his wits end.

_______________________________

Chaceledon snuck a dumpling. Now that the waves of nausea were subsiding…he was hungry again. He stuffed it into his mouth, copying her, and looked back at the estate. Cassius would let them rest there, surely. He swallowed.

“He’s my brother. He’ll let us stay. Harrier too, if he’s too cold to take flight.” He looked down at her. “Ye gods I hope his rebellious kick doesn’t extend to the bathroom…there were fish in his bathtub. Fish! He was using it like a pond. The man’s obsessed with fountains.” He rolled his eyes.

The dragons coming through the doors were a combination of furious and heartbroken. Peridot was bawling over a hairstyle that had taken her hours, and Hokkaido was grimly comforting a woman weeping over the state of her overly complex eye makeup like they were refugees from a war. They were shifting and taking flight, one by one. Chaceledon didn’t see Harrier but he did see the man’s children, fleeing into the sky without him.

He sighed. “Some respect they have for their dahnesh…come on. Let’s go see if he needs help.” He slowly stood, and drained the cup of chocolate down to a few mouthfuls. He offered it to her.
 
"I cannot promise that," Hyssop hissed back as Cassius started to drag her deeper into the gardens. "Being able to consult someone else might mean the difference in whether I'm able to help you or not. But I will be discreet. I'm not going to just blab it to whoever, and I won't identify anyone directly.

"Where are you taking me?"

The air was almost dripping. Hyssop was smacked in the face by a giant leaf at least once. The hems of her skirts were soaked and when the cave opened up before her, she audibly gasped as the troll rose from the waters. But her eyes were quickly drawn to the... dragon fetus in the water.

"What the..." she murmured, mostly to herself, and only half listening to any further words.

"You," she pointed to Cassius. "Out. I have to get in the water to examine him and I'm not going in fully robed." She glanced up at the troll, more than a few feet taller than herself, as she slipped her shoes off and found a mostly dry spot to set them. "I take it that you're Baylock? And... the mother?"

She bent down and carefully hiked her skirts up to her knee to roll her stockings down and off, looking up with narrowed eyes to see if Cassius was leaving.


"It's still polite to ask first," Seteta murmured, smiling a little as Chaceledon stole a dumpling. She didn't comment on the fish in the tub. Or the fountains. She was pretty sure all of that was for Baylock.

When Chaceledon stood, she took the cup of chocolate back and had another sip for herself, then handed the plate of dumplings--only a mouthful of rice and one dumpling remained--and the cup back to him while she stood.

"Let's go," she said, looping her arm through his and stepping back towards the house. "Harrier might not be the only one who needs help."
 
“I won’t. He’s mine too.” Cassius protested. He looked nervously down at the being in the water. He was nearly full grown for a hatchling, but something was wrong. He was the size of a Labrador, comparable and even slightly big for a dragon hatchling, but his skin was sallow. There was no color. He kicked and writhed, as was normal inside of an egg, but seemed so still. He was quiet for a hatchling. Dragons peeped and called up a storm for their mothers. Nests would be filled with the dulled trills of hatchlings calling to mothers and mothers responding.

Baylock looked worriedly at their child, then at Cassius. “You really think she can help?” The troll asked quietly.

Cassius nodded. “Her Dahn is a healing Dahn and your family is too far to help us. I’m sorry, I should have asked you, but we had to do something.” he ran his fingers through his hair. Baylock sighed, and flicked her hand dismissively at him.

“I understand. Go. This is women’s work, and healing work beside.” She shooed him out of the chamber, but could hear him brushing off a stone bench outside to sit. “Back in the house.” She called out to him, and Cassius headed up the stairs grumbling under his breath. Baylock waited until she could hear the ruffling of foliage die off, and came to squat next to Hyssop.

“Yes, I am his mother. Cassius is my husband. We’ve been married six years now…our son was laid seven months ago. Grew too quickly for dragons, but normal for my people.” She said softly. “He was active at first, and responded to our calls and songs. Now he doesn’t. He lays there. It was only last week his skin began rotting away.”

______________________

“I stole these first.” Chaceledon smirked playfully, and gathered their dishes. He’d have to drop them by the kitchen on the way in. When they opened the door, he winced and hiked up his robes. The water had washed out practically all the food, and servants were struggling with the mess. Harrier was tutting and helping them pack the drenched and ruined food into a bin. He would take it back to the Dahn to grind into fertilizer.

The older dragon was directing the wet servants, and helping where he could, but it was clear the mess was beyond him. He looked up as Chaceledon and Seteta entered.

“Ah, so you two didn’t leave.” he greeted them. “I’m not sure where the master of the house has gone, but I am not a messy houseguest.”

Chaceledon handed their dishes to a servant and took the elder’s hands in his. He was freezing. He rubbed Harrier’s hands to warm them. “Seteta? Could you find the house’s sand bath? It should be similar to mine. The big roiling basin of crushed crystals? Just don’t touch it; it’ll be hot.” he led Harrier to her. “I can help guide the servants.”
 
Hyssop rolled her eyes as she carefully folded the stockings and set them aside, but was relieved when Cassius ducked out of the room and went back up to the house. The last thing either of them needed was his parents or hers trying to force a marriage if they found out they were together privately for an extended period of time. None of them were prudes, by any means, but she knew Peridot was also getting desperate.

But she also knew how dragons reproduced. She hadn't the slightest clue about how this Baylock's race procreated.

Chaceledon said:
“Yes, I am his mother. Cassius is my husband. We’ve been married six years now…our son was laid seven months ago. Grew too quickly for dragons, but normal for my people.” She said softly. “He was active at first, and responded to our calls and songs. Now he doesn’t. He lays there. It was only last week his skin began rotting away.”
Click to expand...

Six years... Hyssop pushed that away. There would be plenty of time to boggle over it all later. One layer at a time, she stripped off her outer robes and carefully folded them up, until all that remained were her undergarments.

Carefully, so as not to slip and hurt herself or the egg, Hyssop stepped into the water, and shivered. Far too cold, for a dragon anyway.

"Tell me about your people," Hyssop ordered. "I need to know what is and isn't normal for how you reproduce, and the timeline for it."

Seven months into development? It was quite large. Clearly taking after Baylock and her kind more than any dragons, especially with that translucent egg and those gills.

She slowly sank into the water and approached the egg, crooning softly so as not to startle him, then taking a breath and diving under the surface. Carefully, and a little awkwardly with her claws tucked into her palms so as not to tear the egg, Hyssop began to examine the fetus.


Seteta followed Chaceledon back inside, and smiled when he led Harrier over to her. "Of course, sehejib," she murmured, taking Harrier's hand and tucking it into her elbow. He was cold, even to her, or at least his hands were.

She nodded as Chaceledon told her what to look for, and then she extended her magic through the home and grounds, looking for heat. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she let the stone and earth show her the way.

"Come, amit," she said as she led him away. "Can I call you that? It's what the Inizae call a respected elder."
 
“Now I know you’re not a normal dragon. You’re down to your underthings and you didn’t make a note to cut your rations in half later.” Baylock muttered, coming to sit next to the edge of the pool as Hyssop slid into the water. “Our people reproduce much like yours. We’re cousins, your people and mine. Distant, far and distant, like a horse and a deer are distant.”

She bit her lip. “It takes three weeks for me to lay eggs. I laid two hundred. All but this one are gone. It is the way of things for trolls; out of many, only one or two may survive to walk out of the pools under their own power.” She reached out delicately and laid her hand on the smooth, gelatinous membrane of the egg. “If he were a troll he would have hatched and gone through many phases of life. First as a thing that swims, only the size of a palm. Then the size of my arm, then a small human. That is when they are independent.”

Baylock shook her head. “He has no color. We have our color to protect us and heal us. The water is symbiotic with us, and we form it here in the womb. No matter how much I offer it to him, his body doesn’t take it. If he doesn’t take it, he can’t heal himself. Not like a troll anyway. Like you. With magic and time.” She fell silent as Hyssop ducked under the water.

The fetus was well formed aside from the bad skin and the lethargy. Fully formed eyes were neatly closed, and the dragons’ arms were normal if…soft. He had small black claws like a kitten, not the curved talons of a flying hunter. His head was smoother, flatter, and when he stirred he had several rows of curved teeth to a dragon’s singular one. It’s powerful tail didnt taper to a leonine fluff like Hyssop, but was a large fleshy paddle adorned with osteoliths. This was a creature for whom land and water was the norm, not the sky.

____________________________

Harrier patted Seteta’s hand. “You are a good woman. I’m glad Chaceledon found someone with a connection to our ancestors. It makes me feel less…mad. There is a shrine in my household you are welcome to visit. I have done my best to build it from the stones of an old temple I found half buried.” he smiled at her and let her lead him.

The stones led them to another large hall, this one natural. Carved out by the claws of dragons and lacking any frills or adornments. It was filled deeply with crushed granite that practically glowed with heat. Harrier nodded to her and shed his outer robe. He was thin, frighteningly thin. His ribs and breastbone stood out like a starving cockerel. He slid into the crushed stone as a soft blue dragon with white hair, thick enough to hide the prominent ridge of his spine. He settled himself under the surface and settled his chin into a bowl seemingly carved for that purpose in the side of the bath.

Thank you. What is your name? I can’t recall it.
 
Hyssop mulled over Baylock's words as she examined the fetus. Two hundred eggs, and only one made it this far? Their survival rate was possibly worse than a dragon clutch. As she carefully examined him, though with less touch than she would have had for a full-blooded dragon because she didn't want to risk shredding his egg, there were a few things that concerned her.

His claws were soft still, which was normal... she thought. For an unhatched dragon, it would be normal, so as not to puncture their shells before it was time, though she didn't like how short his were. But his bones were too soft. And certainly, his skin should not be sloughing off.

Her lungs were starting to burn for oxygen, though, and Hyssop gently patted the dragonling's head then rose back to the surface.

She took a few moments to catch her breath, then pulled herself back up to the shore.

"Hybrids are... extremely rare, among our kind," Hyssop said softly. "I've never heard of one in my lifetime, and not sure my father or grandparents ever saw any either. We have some very, very old tales of some, but that's all.

"This one seems, in appearance, to take after your people more," she continued. "But he is still half dragon. Admittedly, I can't know for sure what all of the issues might be right now, but there are a few that I think we can start with and then slowly add in some other things later to see what might help.

"First, he's too cold. That I'm certain of, because he is half dragon. But he has to be warmed up gradually, and I'm not sure what temperature the bath needs to be at. If he was a full dragon, I would know what temperature he needs to incubate at, but... he might need to be cooler, or warmer. But regardless, if we warm him up too quickly, he will die before his body can adjust to the change.

"Secondly, his bones are frail, and I suspect that might also be the issue with his skin. Dragon eggs are commonly incubated in sand, and sometimes in different metals. There are certain minerals and nutrients that pass through the eggshell, and it will be even more so with him since his egg seems more like a second skin than anything else. He needs access to sand and minerals, not just water.

"If he's not responding to your magic and the ways your people grow, then we need to slowly start integrating things from how dragons hatch."


"It would be an honor to visit your shrine, amit," Seteta said as they walked through the halls together.

She could feel the heat wafting through the hall before they even reached the sand bath, but it was a comforting warmth after the chill of the outdoors and the water that had flooded the hall. She wondered why Cassius had chosen to kick people out like that.

She politely glanced away as Harrier shed his robes and slipped into the bath, though she couldn't help but notice that he wasn't much more than skin and bones. She tried to remember if she'd ever seen one of the Inizae who had reached such an advanced age. She really wasn't sure what was... normal for being so old.

As he spoke, she crouched down as near to the edge of the sand bath as she could bear with the heat radiating off of it.

"My name is Seteta," she answered. "Will you tell me more about how you worship Abtatu? Or how the dragons used to?"

Spending too much time with him might compromise the challenge at the Nameday but... she was curious. And really, she didn't care terribly much about trying to impress Peridot or Hokkaido anymore. She would complete the challenge, to the best of her ability, because the new child deserved a blessing. Anything else was secondary.
 
Baylock nodded grimly. “I had suspected. I’ll harvest some silt from the plants here, and Cassius will have to find some way of keeping him warm. Thank you…and thank you for being so gentle with him.” She said quietly. “You should get back up to the house, and look decent. Peridot will return, if only to berate her children, and if she finds you alone here there will be a scandal.” She snorted, obviously not thinking much of the gravity that dragons put on the word. She settled next to the pool, thinking. She could find some of the nutrient rich soil, soft soil, and see about mixing some of it into the water.

Cassius hovered at the top of the gardens, chewing at a claw.

_______________________

Harrier smiled, his eyes half closed. The heat leeched into his old bones, and made him feel more awake. Awake, and yet relaxed and lazy. We used to have Singing Halls to Abtatu. Deep channels of sandstone we could thrum through. The purrs and calls you hear from your mate are only a fraction of what we were once capable of. Abtatu is not only god of the desert. They are in every soil and rock. Every crystal. Even minerals changed by fire are theirs. He said wistfully. We had great feasts to Abtatu, and kept their sacred days. Dances long into the night, and spaces near the sea where rock and deep water met. Some dragons still hold this affinity for water but it is growing rarer and rarer still. Especially with Nica’s disappearance.

Harrier looked at her sadly. Such a sad waste of such a rare gift. His Dahn, Abalone, should not have been cast out for their waters. Nor should have Dahn Benthi, nor Dahn Sargassa before them. I fear Nica is gone, and with him, the last of our waters.

Harrier huffed a great sigh. I miss those days. So few remember them that I began to wonder if I had just dreamed them. Or that once your great pharaohs had gone with the gods anger, that Abtatu were somehow angry with us.
 
Hyssop sighed. She played along with dragon etiquette because she had to, but it was annoying at best, and deadly at worst. But Baylock was right. She shouldn't be found indecent and alone in Cassius' company.

"I cannot promise that he will live," Hyssop said, carefully pulling the pins from her hair and squeezing the water out of it. "But there are things we can try. The skin worries me most right now. But hopefully, once he starts getting more nutrients, that will improve."

She squeezed as much water out of her underthings as she could without actually taking them off.

"Unfortunately, I am not an engineer, so I don't have any suggestions for how to warm the pool. Just... make sure it is done very, very slowly. No more than a few degrees at a time, and his internal temperature must match the water before more heat is added. Keep adding warmth until he's active again, then hold it there for several hours. If he starts acting like this again, add more warmth."

Fortunately, with her many layers of robes, it was hard to tell there was a damp layer at the bottom of it all by the time she was fully dressed again.

"His heart is strong, though," she told Baylock as she slipped her stockings and shoes back on, and carefully combed through her hair with her fingers before braiding it. It fell down her back, past her hips, when she was done.

"Cassius will know how to contact me if there are any issues," she said, then carefully picked her way back through the water gardens to where Cassius waited.

"I've told Baylock everything," she said quietly. "But the important things are that he needs heat, as soon as possible, and he is lacking some important nutrients and minerals. You've been treating him too much like one of Baylock's kind, and you need to start treating him more like a dragon.

"If possible, when he's... not as fragile, I would like to come back and get some samples of the amniotic fluid in the egg, and a blood sample."


Seteta smiled softly, her eyes falling shut as Harrier spoke. She could almost imagine it all.

"Perhaps some of the songs we still sing are the ones you remember," she said quietly. "And we still have some sacred days we honor. I don't know if they would have been the same ones as the dragons."

She frowned when he mentioned Nica.

"We encountered Nica several weeks ago," she told him. "Outside of Maraan, and then later in Ragash. He was working at the bathhouse there... Indi... something."

She sighed sadly. "He was... rather fixated on Chaceledon. I was rather harsh with him at first. I probably should have been gentler."
 
Baylock nodded. “Cassius will have to think of a way to heat him. Thank you.” She bent her head in thanks to Hyssop, and looked down at their son. Technically, the first grandchild that Peridot had. She stood by the pool a while, sighing and rubbing the back of her neck. She loved her husband, and loved their son, but she wished more dragons were like Hyssop. More open.

Cassius nodded. “Thank you. For everything. And…for not judging me.” he patted her shoulder. “Would you stay for dinner? It’s the least I can do. An actual dinner, not pretending not to eat.”

________________________

“The Indica Majika. A good place. When the world was friendlier I went there often.” Harrier agreed with a soft smile. “But I fear he isn’t there any longer. There are rumors he has returned to Seaworth, but not good rumors. The boy is alone. Chaceledon was the last chance he had to return to society. I would not blame him for being lost.”

The older dragon yawned. “Tell me. You’re supposed to perform at the Nameday. Are you ready to be a part of this people? Displays like what happened at dinner are common when one is moving….up or down in society.”
 
"Don't make assumptions," Hyssop said with a wry, though teasing, smile. "I am definitely judging you. Just probably not how you expected."

Her stomach rumbled a little when he mentioned dinner, but she shook her head.

"If you truly wish Baylock and your child to continue to remain a secret, I should leave," she told him. "My father and brother will be back as soon as they realize I'm not behind them. The last thing either of us want is a misunderstanding, and a forced marriage."

She would be able to hunt something once she was in the air.


It was no wonder that dragons were... on the verge of dying out, Seteta realized. If they were shunning their own kind for simple things like what they'd disliked about Nica. And as Harrier asked if she was ready to become part of dragon society, she couldn't help but sigh.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "My tribe... we're so close. But we've had to be, to survive. You dragons have had luxury and ease beyond my wildest imaginings but it doesn't seemed to have benefitted you. I've had to learn to trust my kin, my elders, and we've often gone hungry. In a sense, we've self-ruled for so long that the thought of having to walk on eggshells around the dragons is... overwhelming."
 
Cassius nodded, and gestured toward the house. “Then you should probably get in the air before your father comes and berates me for being alone with a single woman.” he smirked, and offered her his arm. He led her back to the foyer, where his brother was coordinating the servants washing the floor.

“I can still see grease! Look at that! There are still rice grains in the cracks! You’re lucky I don’t make you eat it. Is this how you live? With greasy floors? No no! Soap then brush.” Chaceledon had his robes hiked up in one hand to keep the skirts from brushing the floor, and was haranguing his servants. His brother glanced between Cassius and Hyssop. Well. That had been fast. He cocked an eyebrow. He hadn’t taken her for a trollop.

“Have a good evening Hyssop, and thank you for indulging me about the plants.” Cassius kissed the air above her cheek, and led her to the door, but Chaceledon made a derisive snort. He didn’t believe a word.

Cassius shut the door behind her, and met his brother’s scathing look. “What?”

“If you put eggs in her this early Mother is going to freak.” Chaceledon said tightly.

“Oh for- we were talking about gardening.”

“Oh I’m sure something got ploughed. Bathe yourself. I’m taking my room, is it aired out?”

Two servants practically slid across the floor to the hallway. Chaceledon pursed his lips. That answered that question. Since when did a dragon not prepare for guests? “And wash your hands before you touch the sheets or I’ll cut them off!” he roared.

_______________________

I can see. Well, Chaceledon has always been a part of this culture. He still wants to be, from what I can see. It’s a part of us, just like your closeness is a part of you. Harrier closed his eyes and settled a little more into the bath. Your children will be part of it but they don’t need to suffer in it. Chaceledon isn’t Peridot and you’re a far cry from Hokkaido. Have some faith in him, and yourself. Besides, some of us know how to skirt the rules.
 
Hyssop sighed wearily at Chaceledon's teasing, though she ducked out the door before the worst of it. Her hearing was sharp enough to make the rest of it out through the door, though, and she huffed irately as she shifted and launched into the air, a streak of teal and black with a white underbelly against the evening sky.

She headed toward home, and kept an eye on the ground for gazelle. If she could find something before she encountered her father and brother again, it would account for the time she was missing.


Seteta gnawed at the inside of her cheek lightly--remember, at the last moment, that her lip was still sore from the new piercing--as Harrier mentioned that she should have faith in Chaceledon. She managed to chuckle when he mentioned skirting the rules though.

"You say he isn't Peridot," she murmured quietly, "but he is more like her than you might think. Yesterday... as we were preparing to depart from my people, there was... something that didn't go the way he liked. And he got angry--so angry--and lashed out. He hurt someone we both care for deeply. A little bit more, and he very likely might have killed them.

"I don't know how much I can trust him, after that." Her voice faded into quiet sadness.
 
“And where’s your fiancé?” Cassius asked, preemptively stopping Chaceledon from opening his mouth. No doubt his brother was about to spew more venom at his servants. Chaceledon eyed the humans like a crow, but relented.

“Harrier grew too cold too quickly from that little storm you whipped up. He’s relaxing in your hotbed. I’ve no idea how you did that…you’ve no gift for water and neither did mother.” Chaceledon eyed him suspiciously. “You had someone make a charm for you, didn’t you, just to end the party early.”

“Caught.” Cassius smiled sheepishly. “You know I can’t stand these strange affairs where we all stand around and try to out do the other with gossip. I’m sorry Harrier suffered from it…I forget his age. I did notice his Dahn left him behind…”

“Bah. He’s holding onto his Dahn by a thread. I’m not surprised. He and Seteta worship the same god.” Chaceledon sighed. Knowing Abtatu was real…knowing what the god had done for him. He looked at his claws, restored to their hooked glory. It was hard to dismiss Harrier as a madman after experiencing what he had.

Cassius raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s getting dark and the mountain gets cold at night. I’ll have the servants make up a guest room for me; Harrier can have my room.” He wasn’t planning to be further away from the gardens than a short walk. He’d been sleeping in the foyer next to the garden doors for weeks now, ready to leap in and help with their son at a moment’s notice. Oh ye gods, if only Chaceledon knew he’d been sprawling on couches for the last month…

_________________________

Harrier chuckled, a deep but friendly sound. You’re marrying into a family of vicious tempers. Peridot is legendary. Hokkaido is a petty man who holds grudges far beyond what is gentlemanly. Even Cassius dislikes losing and loses his temper quickly when he does. He reached out with a paw, touching her shoulder lightly. His curved claws were dull with age, even though he’d had them groomed and painted black.

He has not raised a hand to you has he? Dragons take this sort of thing very seriously, even to a non dragon mate. His father would return the same punishment tenfold on him. Does it have anything to do with that bite on his nose? Surely you wouldn’t be so bold.
 
Seteta reached up and gently clasped Harrier's paw.

"No." She shook her head. "He's never harmed me in any way. It was..." she hesitated a moment, but she felt she could trust Harrier, and it might help to have someone other than Chaceledon that she could turn to when dragon society and customs confused her. "Chaceledon has a son," Seteta said, dropping her voice lower so no one would easily overhear. "An adopted son. He's human.

"This son... fits better with my people, and when he expressed his desire to stay with them for a while, Chaceledon didn't take it well. By trade, this son is a highly trained assassin. It's probably the only reason he survived an angry dragon.

"Chaceledon hasn't told Hokkaido or Peridot of his relationship with the human, because he's afraid that they'll kill him."
 
And he is right. It is one thing to have a mate from the sands. The Abtati understand us at least on some level. You commune with the earth as we do. But humans? Humans hunt us for sport. It isn’t enough that we struggle to give birth…our skins, horns, fur and bones are all used by humans. Harrier huffed. Humans have no place with dragons, except as servants. That, at least, atones for a few of their sins.

The old dragon hesitated. He could see why Chaceledon could become frustrated with a human he had adopted. He failed to see, at least on some levels, why it was a problem. Chaceledon had been disobeyed and put a human in its place without killing it. Perhaps…I don’t quite understand. It’s common here to punish servants. When you say son, you mean someone subservient to him…? He would never touch you; no dragon would stand for it. But a human? There are fewer rules.

Harrier tucked his paw back into the boiling sand and rested his head back in the stone. Time is running out for the Nameday. You should visit Dahn Hedoni as soon as you can. They are musicians and entertainers…it at least makes the playing field somewhat even. I wish you luck, beloved of Abtatu.

With that, Harrier pulled his head under the sand. Only his nostrils remained, softly blowing air as he slept.

Chaceledon had made up their room. It was a family room; most dragons had suites set aside for visiting family members that became small apartments over time. Chaceledon was faintly surprised his was still intact if out of date. He quietly burned or hid old paintings of lovers past, salacious letters, and tossed away old pots of makeup. The closet was reorganized, the room turned down and cleaned, and a bath drawn for himself and Seteta. Thankfully he’d remodeled this one shortly before his disappearance…there were no bloody plants.

Chaceledon wondered, as he prepared for bed, if his brother had gone a bit mad. A greenhouse? Plants in the bathroom? Fish? It was all so…undraconian. Perhaps the pressure of inheriting the Dahn was getting to him.

He curled up in an old robe of fluffy rabbit fur to wait for Seteta.
 
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