Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Tianau sighed into the kiss, winding his arms around Ausar’s neck briefly. “Sure you won’t be too tired after taking Nestor?” He joked. He let Ausar go, and was about to follow him. Ferenzi grabbed him by the collar.

“This is between those two. We’ll know the outcome.” Ferenzi told him sternly. “If he does decide to humiliate Nestor let’s spare the man his dignity at least a little bit. It’ll keep him from being insufferable.”

Rheinhard looked at his feet. “Killing each other would be easier. Less…hassle.”

“Well, once you’re dead, emotions count for a lot more than a few losses.” Ferenzi smirked.

As Nestor walked out into the sands, armor appeared. He wore light, well-oiled leather. It clung against his skin, ensuring he could move without anything loose or flowing to get caught on a weapon. Nestor didn’t have a bad body; most of the Volkers tended toward a lithe form and Nestor was no exception. He wore light boots, and leather pants that hugged around his waist and shapely rear. He tugged his gloves to make sure they were secure, and drew his rapier.

The weapon was a graceful one; long with a carved silver guard. The hilt was bone, with a scrollwork N on the pommel. A channel ran down the center of the blade, and Nestor pulled a vial from his pocket to wet it. The poison would make even the smallest scratch swell and itch. Dizziness and nausea would follow quickly. He meant for this to hurt.

“So glad you left a dangling target for me.” Nestor growled. He eased into a proper stance, and lunged. To his credit, he was fast as an asp, and aimed for Ausar’s throat.
 
He raised a brow as Nestor coated his blade with liquid he could only assume was poison. If he'd deduced anything else about the spell so far, it was that nothing in here was tangible. Ausar would be able to control most of it with a mere thought.

Including whether poison could have any affect. If Nestor could land a blow on him to begin with.

Chaceledon said:
“So glad you left a dangling target for me.” Nestor growled.
Click to expand...

"Glad you noticed," Ausar purred, then quirked his head as Nestor... posed with his weapon.

The sand told him when Nestor's weight shifted, and Ausar smoothly stepped to the side.

The sand beneath their feet exploded into the air, and Ausar nimbly danced several paces back while Nestor's vision was obscured.

"Come now, so predictable," Ausar teased as the dust began to settle. "You must not have been watching me closely enough."
 
“Don’t toy with me! Fight if you mean to fight!” Nestor snapped irritably. He stood stock still, trying to hear where Ausar was through the settling mess of sand. He gritted his teeth. So that was it, was it? Ausar was going to dance around with his magic and humiliate him? Two could play at that game, and Volkers could manipulate the Arena just as easily.

At the very least, it would take Ausar a few moments to regain control. That might be enough for a single hit. Beneath their feet, the room pitched sharply. Sand shivered away into wooden boards, and salt spray washed across the Arena. Nestor charged across the deck of the ship at Ausar, lancing for his chest. It was the largest target. The ship was a wreck, tilted at an angle with inhospitable rocks and roaring ocean surrounding them.

Hopefully, by the time Ausar got the sand back he’d be throwing up hard enough to regret this.
 
"This is how a desert man fights," Ausar whispered into the falling sand, then laughed as the floor pitched under his feet.

Finally.

He tumbled with it easily, barely thrown off balance. The battered, slippery timbers of the ship were not that different from the rocky coast lines at the edge of the desert, and he adjusted his footing accordingly.

Ausar had felt the magic as it responded to Nestor's will, and confirmed his assumption. While he could wield it like the earth magic he was so familiar with, he could also do so much more.

So while Nestor charged at him, blade steady, Ausar just grinned.

The decking under Nestor's feet vanished, and if he didn't catch himself, he'd land on a pile of sand in the hold below.
 
Nestor gave a cry of surprise, and caught himself on the edge of the decking. His blade went skittering across the deck. He kicked his dangling legs, swearing under his breath as he pulled himself back onto the deck. “Coward! You know you couldn’t face me on a fair field.” He growled at Ausar. He had to get that blade back.

Rheinhard and Ferenzi hovered around the door, watching quietly. Nestor was utterly distracted and losing his temper. He rarely had to fight man to man, and had preferred to kill at a distance. It was a disadvantage that was showing now, and wasn’t helped by Ausar’s refusal to directly engage.

Nestor scrambled onto his feet, curling his hands into fists. Until he could maneuver around to get the rapier caught along the railing he had to keep himself sharp.
 
Ausar's face was grim as he watched Nestor pull himself back up, and he walked across the deck to put himself between the Volker and his blade.

"There is no such thing as a fair field in a fight," Ausar answered. "And you cannot call me a coward when you were the one to start this fight."

Ausar stepped backward until he found the hilt of the rapier with his feet, and flicked the blade up into the air with his toes. He gracefully caught it with one hand.

He didn't hold it as delicately as Nestor had, but it was clear Ausar was no stranger to using a blade.

As Nestor stood with fists raised, Ausar brought the blade up, testing the weight of it. Sand rippled outward beneath his feet, swallowing up the ship and the ocean.

"I am the Steward of the Well," Ausar said authoritatively. "And you will heed me as such."

Ausar charged, rapier aimed for Nestor's chest. He kept his senses within the sand to watch for Nestor's next move, and a firm hold on the magic should the Volker try to shift the scene again.
 
Nestor watched him like a hawk as the ship sank down beneath rippling sand. Ausar was getting the hang of the Arena and quickly. It would have been enough to impress those looking for a leader like Ferenzi. Nestor needed no one. Certainly not a naked popinjay who clearly enjoyed making him uncomfortable. The sight of the man touching his blade made revulsion crawl along his skin. It was blasphemous to watch him grip the rapier like that. He was no stranger to swordplay, but not enough to hold it delicately.

He watched Ausar’s chest and shoulders. He’d lunge, but there would be a shift in his shoulders before he did so. He waited until the last second to step to the side, sending Ausar’s thrust toward nothing but air. He struck for the back of the man’s head with a fist, and danced out of range of the rapier. He resettled on the sands, cracking his knuckles.

“You’re not going to win me over like you did Tianau.” Nestor growled dangerously. “I’m not that stupid or easy.”

Tianau glared from the entrance to the Arena. “If you’d just fucking listen he doesn’t want to hurt us!” He called. Ferenzi put a hand on Tianau’s shoulder and shook his head. They didn’t need anyone shouting from the sidelines. Rheinhard quietly pushed the albino back. If he was going to lose his temper, he was going to lose watching privileges.
 
The sand warned him of Nestor's step to the side, and Ausar twisted the opposite direction to get out of striking range. Since the man was only armed with his fists, Ausar was sure he would make use of them.

Instead of hitting the back of his head, though, Nestor's knuckles just barely brushed past his ear.

Chaceledon said:
You’re not going to win me over like you did Tianau.” Nestor growled dangerously. “I’m not that stupid or easy.”
Click to expand...

Ausar grinned again as he twisted in his heel, coming back around to face Nestor.

As the Volker's focus narrowed on him, Ausar called to the sands and they began to move behind Nestor.

"I haven't even tried to convince you like I did Tianau."

Ausar tossed the rapier into the air, and it caught several feet above both their heads. Just as he thought. It didn't matter which elements he used in here, they would all obey his whim.

He straightened and strode to Nestor. Nestor would feel the sand creep up underneath his leather armor and start to wrap around his ankles and wind up his legs. Two tendrils rose from the ground and lashed around Nestor's wrists. As Ausar drew closer, the sand shifted into silken ropes, and the scene around them changed again.

The entire arena turned into a massive tent. Nestor would find himself still standing and fully clothed, but his feet were bound to the ground, and his arms stretched wide and bound between the center poles of the tent.

The arena was dimly lit, smouldering coals in braziers spread through the place. Moans and gasps of wanton delight filtered through the air. In the shadows, if one looked close, movement could be seen, glimpses of bodies writhing in passion.

"No, I haven't tried this yet," Ausar purred, coming to stand in front of Nestor, his eyes glowing. "But I almost think you want me to, with the way you keep commenting on it."

Ausar slid his hand around the back of Nestor's neck, and pressed his mouth to the man's.

The kiss was light at first, but Ausar dug his fingertips into Nestor's neck and firmly bit at his lower lip, deepening the kiss. He teased his tongue over Nestor's, then pulled away with a grin.

"The man who cannot face his own fears and desires is the coward," Ausar whispered in his ear, then released his hold on him and stepped back.

The question now was not whether or not Ausar had--or could--win, but whether Nestor would submit.
 
Nestor half expected the man to come charging at him again. He had his eyes on him, and not the ground, and hissed in surprise when tendrils of sand grabbed his ankles, then his wrists. Damn him! He should have remembered this trick from Klaus’ first attack on Seteta! Inizae liked to restrain people like this.

The scene around them shifted again, and the sand around his wrists and ankles became rope. Not harsh cord, but soft silk that wouldn’t burn his skin. He could hear moans and cries all around them, and though the glare he gave Ausar was murderous he was blushing crimson. Nestor had always just put sex out of his mind. It wasn’t for him, so what was the point in pining for it? In his youth he’d just drunk a little castor oil to make himself nauseous enough to avoid the sensation, and returned to his studies. Even passing on his genes had been more of an irritating ten minutes.

As he’d gotten older, it had gotten easier to put out of his mind entirely. The Well was a good distraction after death and none of the Volkers interested him in that way. He found the very idea abhorrent.

So when Ausar touched him, it was like throwing a match into spilled lamp oil. Ausar’s scent filled his nose, strong and masculine. The hand on the back of his neck, the teeth on his lips had a direct line to his groin. His pants grew uncomfortably tight. His knees wobbled slightly as Ausar deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling so briefly.

“Fuck you.” Was all he could snarl, but he was well aware of the fact he was breathing hard, his skin was flushed and his blue eyes just a little too bright.
 
By the time Chaceledon finished eating, Seteta was feeling weary again. She let him carry her back to their underground room, rested for a short while before bathing, and then rested again afterward. The remainder of the day went like that, alternating small bursts of activity with longer amounts of rest, and eating whenever she wished to do so. Persian must have left instructions, because the pets always had something ready for her.

She didn't see any sign of her mother until sundown, Rehema quietly knocking at the door. When she entered, Seteta realized her mother's face was etched with concern.

"What's wrong?" Seteta asked, patting the bed.

"Ausar went into the Well," Rehema sighed as she sat next to Seteta. "But that was... many hours ago now. He's still... sleeping."

Seteta's brow furrowed, and she glanced over at Chaceledon.

"Time... doesn't pass the same way in the Well," Seteta said. "And depending on who he woke... there might be things he's having to deal with. I had a bit of an advantage when I became Steward of the Well. I'd been going into it regularly beforehand, and several of them had gotten to know me. Mit... will have to prove he's a worthy steward."

She huffed softly, and shook her head. "Tianau was... abrasive toward me, when I reached out to him as steward before you arrived. He had no idea who I was, only knew that I was the one in control. Mit is probably dealing with similar reactions from everyone but Tianau and Rheinhard.

"Have you seen Rheinhard today at all?" Seteta asked Chaceledon. "He would know what's going on better than I would now."

It was... strange, to not feel that presence in the back of her mind. She'd thought she would hate it, when she first took the Well. But now she almost missed it. Missed Rheinhard.
 
Chaceledon took the day to rest with Seteta. He helped her walk a little bit, going out for short bursts of activity like going to sit in the kitchen for a snack or walking up and down the stairs, punctuated with naps and rest. He never left her side, and he was appreciative that Persian had left instructions to the staff. It was such an odd relationship; no matter where pets went, or whom they were sold to, their allegiances tended to switch to Persian whenever the fae showed up. They would eagerly take orders from him and check up on him, often more than their own masters.

Chaceledon was dozing lightly when Rehema knocked on the door, and sat up properly to listen to her. “Seteta’s right. She earned Rheinhard’s loyalty on the road, and the respect of a lot of the others. Ausar hasn’t proven himself to them. I’d wager he’s likely been in the Arena fighting tooth and nail all afternoon.” He sighed. “Rheinhard is in the garden. As long as Ausar doesn’t have any nosebleeds, and he’s sleeping peacefully, he should be alright.”

The dragon smiled at Seteta. “You ought go see if you can help your father. I know Nestor is probably outside his mind trying to figure out if you’re safe.”

Rheinhard was indeed in the garden. He was awake, having trusted Ferenzi with watching Nestor, Ausar and Tianau. He washed his face in a nearby fountain, leaning his forehead against the cool stone. Whatever Ausar had done to Nestor had clearly rattled the academic, and Tianau seemed more focused on using the Arena for…things other than combat. He rubbed his temples, leaning on his elbows on the edge of the fountain.
 
Seteta's brow furrowed for a moment, but then she nodded. "We should at least go check on Rheinhard," Seteta told him.

She turned back to Rehema, reaching over to touch her hand. "Come with us, mut," she said. "We can have dinner together, and we'll check on Rheinhard. He can tell us what's been happening. But the Well itself won't allow anything truly dangerous to happen to mit. It depends on him now."

Seteta took a deep breath, and made to stand up, Rehema quickly moving to help her. She wasn't nearly as weak as she'd been before the healing, but moving quickly was entirely out of the question. She'd not bothered to wear anything in the bed and had Chaceledon bring her a robe.

"How are you feeling, mut?" Seteta asked, tucking her hand in the crook of Rehema's elbow as they all headed toward the kitchen. "You and the baby?"

"We're fine right now," Rehema assured her, patting her hand. "Just hungry."

"Well, we'll fix that," Seteta said with a smile.

A little while later, the trio headed from the kitchen to the garden, followed by a couple of pets bearing trays of food. There was seasoned, shredded chicken, a large pot of rice cooked in broth and spices, steamed vegetables, and a pot of tea.

Seteta had pointed out that Rheinhard would be hungry, and likely thirsty, as well, and had insisted that they all eat together. She didn't care if Rheinhard and Chaceledon were still on... rocky terms. She wanted to have her family around her.

When they found him at the fountain, Seteta split off from the others, clearing her throat as she approached him from behind so as not to startle him.

"Are you all right?" she asked Rheinhard quietly, setting her hand on his shoulder.
 
Chaceledon hovered at Seteta’s side. He was watching her closely; she was vastly improved but it would take a little while to get her to full strength. She needed to gain a little weight, she needed to build muscle and run again. He hoped she would be alright by the time the Naming Ceremony began… it would be taxing on her magically as well as emotionally.

“They can’t kill him, and he can’t die in the Well. If he dies now, so does Rheinhard. So do all of them.” Chaceledon clarified. “So they won’t hurt him. Not even Klaus. They know better.”

The dragon was relieved to see some steamed vegetables and rice. He needed to get back to his regular diet, and with the Naming Ceremony looming he couldn’t afford to look paunchy. He didn’t dare embarrass his parents further after what had happened at Cassius’ household; they might go after Seteta. Even worse, the Inizae. He had to play the game and that meant appearance. Some binding would definitely be in order. He hovered behind with the pets and Rehema in the garden, showing the pets where to put everything for a small picnic.

As for Rheinhard, the man recognized Seteta’s scent. He turned his head slightly at her noise, and splashed his face with water a final time. “I have a headache,” he admitted. “Your father is stubborn, and Nestor is even more so. Tianau summoned his goddess to the Well…for what purpose I am not sure, but I can feel her presence still in the corner of my eyes and on the wind. I wish they would stop meddling.”

Chaceledon frowned, offering Rehema a bowl of rice. “No wonder you’ve a headache, what in the gods’ names is Ausar doing in there?”

“Angering Nestor.” Rheinhard muttered. He touched his head to Seteta’s briefly. “He is worried about you. When he is worried he gets commanding, and Ausar dislikes it.”
 
"Have you been out here in the garden all day?" Seteta asked, reaching up to smooth Rheinhard's pain-wrinkled forehead with her fingers. The sun was setting now, quite rapidly. He was probably overheated, and she doubted he'd eaten at all. "Have you had any food or water since breakfast?"

She sighed, leaning her head against his.

"Mit is used to being obeyed when he is placed in charge of something," she said, leading Rheinhard back to the picnic. "He'll probably manage certain aspects of the Well better than I ever could have. But he'll treat any challenge to his authority... seriously."

Rehema took the bowl of rice with a quiet murmur of thanks, then helped herself to chicken and vegetables as well while Seteta and Rheinhard sat.

"If Tianau called for Qimmiq, it was likely at Ausar's request," Rehema told Rheinhard apologetically, hand dropping to softly stroke her belly. "My husband does not like to leave a debt lingering, and he would have wanted to give her an offering of equal value to the aid she provided us during the ritual."

"Let's eat," Seteta told Rheinhard, "and then you can take me in to see Nestor. I don't think I can, or should, stay in for long, though. I don't have much strength."
 
“I was here until a few minutes ago.” Rheinhard muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. He looked a little sunburnt, and quite dehydrated. He sighed and leaned into Seteta a bit, leaning his head back to lick her cheek. “He should expect to get his authority challenged quite often when they are so protective of you.” He smiled faintly. She had certainly earned the loyalty of Nestor. Chaceledon offered him a glass of tea, which he swallowed down quickly.

Chaceledon made a light bowl of rice and vegetables for himself, and Rheinhard wasn’t shy about heaping his bowl full of vegetables and meat. Chaceledon gave him a brief look when Rheinhard sat down and began to eat with his hands. Chaceledon was using a pair of chopsticks. He sighed and shook his head a bit. Rheinhard didn’t see the use in table manners but sometimes they were useful for not appearing like an animal.

“Ausar has bred Nestor as a dominance act.” Rheinhard said quietly into his bowl. Chaceledon choked on a bit of rice and set his bowl in his lap, staring. “Not entirely against his will, but he is upset. I think it is part of the reason he wishes to see you so badly.” Rheinhard looked at Seteta.

“You’re sure…never mind. Don’t.” Chaceledon winced.
 
Seteta sighed. "They shouldn't be challenging him over me. He's my  father."

She ran her fingers through her hair before gently twisting it and tossing it over her shoulder. The Volkers had likely never known what it meant to have a father that actually watched out for you, though.

Seteta frowned at Chaceledon, and added a few pieces of meat to his bowl. "I need you to be strong, sehejib," she murmured, giving him a pleading look.

Her stomach threatened to churn at Rheinhard's explanation.

"There are certain things about mit I would prefer not to know in detail," she muttered, shoving chicken and vegetables in her mouth with a shudder.

"Something like that, Ausar wouldn't have done unless he had consent, and if he truly believed it was the best course of action," Rehema said quietly, patting Seteta's shoulder as her daughter turned just the slightest bit green.

Seteta sighed, and worked on finishing her food, taking her time following it up with a cup of tea.

"Let's get this over with," she told Rheinhard as she set her empty bowl on the tray. "I am tired, but I doubt Nestor will give you any peace overnight if he doesn't see that I'm all right."

She crawled into Rheinhard's lap, doubtful that she could hold herself up for long, closing her eyes and turning her face toward his.

"I really didn't miss this at all," she muttered, waiting for his mouth over eyes.
 
“It is our duty to protect who we feel is master or mistress. Try not to reject a gift you have earned.” Rheinhard told her with an affectionate butt of his head, polishing off his first bowl of food and refilling it. He was ravenous after a day of sitting in the garden, and eating was helping his headache. He drank down another glass of tea.

Chaceledon cleared his throat and reluctantly nibbled at some of the meat she’d put into his bowl. They had the naming ceremony soon! He shouldn’t be eating anything fatty. It did taste good, and she was right; he had to be strong for her.

Rheinhard finished his food and did his best to clean his mouth, swishing a mouthful of tea around. He swallowed, wiped his mouth, and supported Seteta as she sat on his lap. He bent his head, and covered her eyes with his mouth.

Ferenzi was there to greet them when they entered, and patted Seteta’s shoulder fondly. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” He joked with a wry smile. He was promptly shoved aside by Nestor, who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

After a moment he stepped back, holding her at arms’ length to look at her. “I was worried about you.” He told her.

Rheinhard gave Ferenzi a look, nodding toward the Arena. Ferenzi sighed. “I think they’re on round four. I lost count.”

“Disgusting behavior. At least with you we had some dignity.” Nestor patted Seteta’s cheek.
 
Seteta chuckled at Ferenzi's words, but reached up to gently squeeze his hand on her shoulder. She'd not interacted with him much beyond the first time she'd been in the Well.

Her heart gave a little pang. There were so many Volkers she hadn't had the chance to get to know yet.

"Thank you," she told him quietly, before she was abruptly yanked into Nestor's arms.

She sighed and returned his embrace, then chuckled when he pushed her away to look her over.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about me, too, for a while," she said, then grimaced when Ferenzi brought up her father and Tianau.

Nestor's words, though, made her eyes narrow, and she pinned him with a stern glare, not to dissimilar from Ausar's stern expressions.

"Sex is not inherently disgusting, Nestor," she said quietly. "And I am far from a celibate person. Please don't speak of my father that way."
 
Nestor rolled his eyes. “Please. Him using this place as a personal whorehouse ten minutes after getting it is embarrassing regardless of my feelings. At least you have some…tact.” He patted her. “Any symptoms? I gave your father a tincture to help you get back on your feet but he’s far too occupied with foolishness. You were very magic exhausted…you did eat something?”

“She’s fine, Nestor. Just needs food, rest, and less hovering.” Rheinhard told him. He knew Nestor felt a bit…adrift after what had happened. The man needed to feel needed. With Seteta there was always something to teach be it draconian or something else. With Ausar he already felt tangled and not like himself. Rheinhard saw it as a grasp for normalcy, mixed with genuine concern for Seteta. Nestor desperately wanted to talk to her. His world had been turned upside down, and he was hesitant to confide in her. He hated feeling like he didn’t have someone to speak with, and his desperate need to smooth out his feelings was warring with his want not to burden her.

Nestor touched her cheek, smiling at her. “It’s good to see you reach your potential. I look forward to seeing you on a throne one day.” He said, his voice gentle. “And I’ll do everything I can to help you get there.”
Have you slept well? I can at least see if I’ve got something here to help you rest. This place doesn’t always have to be draining.”
 
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"Nestor," Seteta practically growled, her eyes flashing. "You will watch how you speak of my father. He has not, and he never will, treat anyone like a faceless, nameless sex object. Whores have dignity too, and you will not project your own twisted values surrounding sex onto  me."

Her gaze softened, though, as he asked about her.

"It's been almost three days since the ritual," she said, grasping Nestor's hand. "I've slept for nearly half of those, and I've had several meals. I'm weak still, but not like before."

She leaned into his hand when he touched her cheek. "I've been sleeping fine," she said quietly, ignoring the mention of a throne for now. At the moment, there wasn't a throne for her to ascend. "Some strange dreams, but... I'm processing two lifetimes with of memories settling them all into place. They'll calm down eventually."

She wasn't sure how much the Volkers had been aware of, during the ritual. She'd seen their presence, but she didn't know if they'd seen any of what played out directly for her.

Did they know that she was Nailah reborn? Vaguely, she wondered if any of the Volkers had encountered Nailah. Or of they remembered the time of her reign.


Rehema watched quietly, an air of unease around her, as Seteta and Rheinhard became... strangely still, sitting with each other. Her gaze lingered on them for a few moments, and then she turned to Chaceledon.

"Tell me about this Naming Day," she requested. "About your people's expectations for it, and the chances she has of actually winning the dahn's approval."
 
Nestor frowned a bit, chastened, but perhaps she was too close to the situation. It was her father, after all. Gods, what a mistake he’d made… he sighed and squeezed her hand. “Your mind will settle it. It must be Nailah, her past memories and experiences. Quite close to the Well, actually. Perhaps we can do some exercises. Rheinhard had to do the same thing when he inherited the Well…sometimes wires get crossed for a little while. He was having dreams of Klaus’ escapades.” He encouraged her. “We’ll get you rested, and strong again.”

Nestor chewed his lip, looking at her. He was unsure of what he wanted to say, and she was tired. He shouldn’t be burdening her with this. No, it was his problem to solve…his emotions weren’t her duties. Still, it would have been nice to confide in someone, anyone, how he felt. Thinking about it made him want to kill something, cry and run into Ausar’s arms for comfort all at once. He hated being confused. He wasn’t one of these emotional weaklings like Huron. If he descended into emotional whining what would become of any of them?

He took a deep breath. “Well, we could always start by waking some of the Volkers awake during her reign. I know Tianau was during the end of it, but that only gives us a starting point. His sire was Guimel, so five or so generations back from Tianau might give us a good starting point.” Nestor said with a shrug. “But that can wait until after the Naming Ceremony. There is a lot of work to do getting you healthy again.”

“I do not understand why you wish to do it at all, other than Chaceledon prizing his family home and culture.” Rheinhard sighed. “The Inizae are more of a family.”

__________________________

Chaceledon finished his tea, and mused over the question. “The Naming Day is when a child is fit to be seen by the rest of society. Past the awkward fat baby stage and past all the uncomfortable crying and emotional silliness. They’re presented to society formally as a hatchling, and given a name. Generally, the child is celebrated with song and the like, sometimes people compete for a chance to get their children betrothed to the new hatchling. Setting up future marriages and dahns. I think my father must have requested we use it as a stage to…compete for my hand. Dahn Agrys likes a friendly competition, and music even more so. She’s got a decent chance; she made friends with the Dahnesh.” he smiled. “It’s my hope our own hatchlings will go through it one day. It’s really rather fun. I went through it.”
 
"There's... exercises, for this kind of thing?" Seteta murmured, her eyes widening. Gods, if there was a way to help her settle more comfortably into this... altered existence, she would take it. Anything.

Then she sighed. "The Naming Day... yes, we should get through that first. Everything else, besides regaining my strength, can wait till after that."

When Rheinhard commented in the challenge, though, Seteta reached over and patted his arm. She was glad to hear he thought of the Inizae as family already.

"I agreed to do it, regardless," she said. "And I will keep my word unless death itself prevents me from doing so."

Then she eyed Nestor. She hadn't missed the discomfort in his body language so far. She smiled, and stepped up, winding her arm through his.

"Let's go talk in private," she told him softly, leading him toward the library and gesturing to Rheinhard and Ferenzi behind her back to stay out of it. "But please, refrain from saying anything rude about my father. Or... going into great detail."


Rehema arched a brow as Chaceledon spoke. "'Fit to be seen?'" she muttered, almost incredulously. "Past the awkward fat stage? Babies are supposed to be fat, and how are they supposed to get past the awkward stage without peers and elders to learn from?"

She'd quite liked Seikilos so far, but what Chaceledon was describing sounded... so very different from how the Inizae did things.

From how most people of other cultures and species did things, based on her own encounters.

"As for your own hatchlings... That is something you and Seteta will have to discuss when the time comes. But I will caution you now that the Inizae are very different. Other than a brief period after birth to allow the mother to rest and recover, we don't hide our babies away."

Rehema finished off her own tea, then glanced at Rheinhard and Seteta.

"Will they be all right out here?" she asked. "I should get back and check to see if Ausar has woken yet. Will you walk with me?"
 
Nestor raised an eyebrow. “Of course there are exercises. You don’t think we come here without being a bit scrambled, do you? Inheriting the Well gets more complex with every death, so we started making exercises to help people keep their identities straight.”

He seemed more than grateful when Seteta took his arm and steered him toward the library. “Anyone who pokes his face in loses it.” He growled, but seemed more relieved when they stepped through the page-like door and began the dizzying descent down into the spiral of books. “It feels strange down here without the Librarian…someone’s going to have to see if they can get him back. Otherwise we’re all going to be looking for our own reference materials.” Nestor commented on the way down, offering Seteta a hand to help her down the steps. Each Volker’s book had been color coded, which added to the kaleidoscope. No shelves, no steps, no furniture. Just a never ending spiral of books, walls of books.

Nestor led her down to the bottom, which had a conspicuously flat spot with a bunch of stacked books about waist height, perfect for sitting. He sat down on a pile and sighed heavily. Privacy at last. He put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his scalp, clenching them at the back of his head.

“We had sex. It all happened so fast. I didn’t know what I was doing, and it…I don’t know how to feel.” He said heavily, mumbling his words into his chest. “I don’t do this. I’m a researcher. I’ve never had any interest, and your father is an ass to say the least, and…I’ve fought with breaking the shards so I’d forget but your father picked up control of the Well so quickly I’d be a fool to destroy those and rob myself of studying them…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, blinking away tears. “I don’t know what possessed me. I can’t do this again. I won’t do it again. I can’t lose control. If I lose control what are these other idiots going to do?”

__________________

Chaceledon awkwardly rubbed his neck. “Well it’s not just the fat. It’s the crying, not being able to fly well, the eating excessively and without manners. They learn from their mothers, sometimes fathers too. I got my first size book at my Naming Ceremony.” He reasoned. “It’s just polite to keep screaming babes out of society. Can you imagine if a hatchling soiled itself in front of company? There’d be no shaking the stigma, you’d be the child that pooped itself for years.”

He looked at Seteta and Rheinhard, smiling faintly. “They should be alright. Rheinhard wouldn’t let any harm come to her.” He stood, offering his arm. “Let’s check on Ausar.”
 
"That someone will likely have to be my father," Seteta said with a wry grin as Nestor mentioned the... late librarian. She took his hand to steady her as they went down the stairs.

She'd never been further than the entrance of the library before, and gawked at the never-ending spiral of books that surrounded them. She was a little surprised when Nestor sat on a stack of books when they reached the bottom, but settled next to him as he ran his hands over his head.

She was just glad that her hearing was sharp enough that she could make out what he was mumbling into his chest. As he confessed his overwhelm, she smiled reassuringly, even though he couldn't see it at the moment. She couldn't help but snort when he described her father as an ass, though. He could be abrasive... but so could Nestor. When he'd finished, she reached over and gently patted his shoulder.

"There is no... knowing how to feel," she told him gently. "You simply have to feel it, whatever it might be. But... breaking the shards, removing your memory... it won't make it like it never happened. The emotions will still be there, and you'll still have to deal with them without knowing what caused them.

"But..." she bit her lip, not quite sure how to word things, especially when the words weren't coming to her quite as easily right now. "We all have to lose control sometime, Nestor. It's impossible to restrain ourselves all of the time, and we can't grow at all if we do that. And perhaps... while you might be anxious now, you also recognized that my father is strong enough to handle you losing control, and he made you feel safe enough to do so."

She was... making a lot of guesses. But Nestor said mit had picked up control of the Well already. Nestor liked to be logical about everything, but sometimes logic was overruled by instinct.

She knew a lot of the Volkers believed that they were... static and unchangeable now. But she'd seen the heart of the Well. Seen their souls. If their souls still existed, even if their bodies did not, then she believed they could learn and grow and become better people as they waited for the chance to find peace in death.

"Now... when you think about my father, what happened between the two of you... what emotion do you feel first?"

She didn't want to know the details of what had happened between them, but if she could help Nestor process some of it, then she would.


Oh... dear. Rehema's eyebrows rose higher and higher as Chaceledon spoke, describing every aspect of a growing baby as if it was an annoyance and inconvenience. Was this how dragons thought of their children? No wonder they were scarce. The oldest tales of the Inizae spoke of the dragons as a constant presence in the desert, but they hadn't even seen one flying through the sky within Rehema's living memory.

She took his arm and let him steady her as she stood.

"What is a size book?" she asked. Everything else he'd mentioned could be dealt with... gradually. But she had no context or concept of what something like that could mean.
 
Nestor was grateful for her sitting next to him, and trying to comfort him despite how uncomfortable the subject was. He pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t feel safe with him now.” He muttered. “I don’t like losing control. I’ve kept control for decades. I did my duty, I kept control even when I died. Oor and I had a…professional relationship and I consider you a friend. The moment he stepped in here it was different.”

He looked shaken, slightly pale, and without his glasses he looked less guarded. He looked tired and scared. “I won’t break the shards. They’re too useful and I need to learn a lesson from this. I’ve seen others be beaten down and broken by Oor, even by you with Klaus. It’s just never happened to me.” He said quietly. He was grateful that more of the remnants weren’t awake, but even Ferenzi and Tianau knowing the secret was bad enough. Especially with the mouth Tianau had on him.

He weighed her question, rubbing his glasses clean, and irritably wiping away tears before they had the chance to spill. “Fear.” He muttered. “Fear, and hate, and wanting. I want to punch him in the throat and embrace him all at once.”

He looked over at Seteta. “I want to stay awake, to help you. But gods if you didn’t need me I’d gladly go back to oblivion to try and forget this.”

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Chaceledon shook his head. “It’s nothing important.” He muttered. If Seteta knew about it, she would lose her temper. He didn’t think her mother would be different. It was cultural, really. He was sure that he would find things about Inizae culture he disagreed with as time went on. He took a deep breath and steadied her, patting her shoulder.

Ausar, hopefully, would have found somewhere that wasn’t too uncomfortable to spend a few hours in the Well.
 
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