Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Persian cocked an eyebrow. “I will hold your god to that promise, and you.” He said sternly. He gestured next to the fire, and resumed his seat. “Now that we’ve established I’m alone…Rheinhard and the gladiator will fight when she enters here. Keep in mind it isn’t malicious or vengeful from either party. Strictly cultural. One will fly at the other and it’s best to let them get it out of the way. Assuming, I suspect, you still want to honor the Ring?”

He directed this last question at Rheinhard, who nodded. “Cultural, not emotional.” He grunted at Aetes. “I will lead her off so it does not upset the others.”

“A pity, it’s a good education in culture.” Persian noted. “Just don’t eat my scribes.”

“No need. Have a hunt planned.” Rheinhard ducked his head against Aetes’ shoulder for a moment, and sat back down.

“Down to business, then. I’ve offered the Aptuvi in my care conditional release back to you and your people. Provided they haven’t already been sold, they can choose to return to their respective clans. This will, hopefully, ease some of the antagonistic relationship between your folk and mine. I’ve made alternate arrangements.” Persian told Aetes.

“Krynid and Floiland.” Rheinhard grunted.

“Yes. My bottom line is less impacted than I thought. Truly, I may owe you more of a debt than you think for forcing me to end the struggling program.” Persian smiled thinly.

________________________

Chaceledon’s jaw tightened and he looked at Keket. “And if you’re lucky Rheinhard might start with your throat instead of your toes.” He growled back, eyes alight. “I may be hedahn but I don’t think any dragon forgets how to strip the fat off a woman.”
 
Aetes gave a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was as if Persian was intentionally testing every cultural and personal ethic he had.

"If there must be a spar," he spoke as much to Rheinhard as Persian this time, "then it will happen on the other side of the boundary. It is not about offense, it is about sanctity, but I cannot expect the founder of Pedeo to understand that."

He looked at Rheinhard. "Even if you feel must honor this... Ring, it is not the way if Aptuv. While our god does not demand our worship, please, out of respect for those of us who do worship, refrain from desecrating our sacred grounds on technicalities."

Rheinhard had a  hunt planned? He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but had a sinking feeling he would have to find out.

The rest of Persian's words only made him wish to sink the fae into the sand and seal him there for the rest of eternity.

The Aptuvi slaves would be permitted entry, if they desired so. Aptuv would never turn their own away if they came genuinely. But... Aptuv would never bless an alliance with someone who simply traded one source of slaves for another.

"Floiland will have to take care of themselves," Aetes said, his voice unwavering and bearing a note of warning as he locked eyes with Persian. "As for Krynid... you might want to think twice about that place."

Then he sighed, and let the tenseness of the moment slip away.

"We are waiting on the elders of the tribes to arrive before negotiations can begin. If you'd sent word of your anticipated arrival beforehand, we could have had them here sooner. As it is, you'll have to wait about a week. I will require the key for Rheinhard's... muzzle."


Keket's eyes lit up with vicious mirth.

"How confident you are in your woman's affections if all you can do is threaten death," she laughed. "Because then all you will do is ensure your loss of her all on your own."

She looked past him toward the fire. "Now go. Sit and be patient. It won't be long till supper is ready anyway."
 
Persian chuckled. “I suppose you’ll have to get used to bloodshed.” He said, nodding at Rheinhard meaningfully. “He earned the name Ochresand honestly. As for Krynid, if they guarded themselves better I wouldn’t have gotten such a quick foothold. Your god has no claim there, in the wild north. I do still have to make a living, Aetes. I don’t mind staying here for a week. It’ll give me a chance to study the Aptuvi up close, without captivity. In the wild, as it were.”

The slaver smirked at the request for the key.

“There is no key.” Rheinhard explained for him. He shook his head, satisfied with the fit, and blew air out of the mask. It distorted his voice, just a little bit, but the sound was all too familiar to Rheinhard.

“With that neck of yours, I think you should be thanking me.” Persian joked. Rheinhard blew distastefully at him, and blushed.

________________

“She is mine, and I am hers. Don’t think you’re the first jealous ex to disappear into the sands without a trace. Especially with a convenient scapegoat and Hassani following you around like a kicked puppy. How easy would it be, blaming your disappearance on a visitor?” Chaceledon growled, his eyes not leaving hers. “Don’t test me, woman. I’ll be back after supper.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked toward the fire, chin up.
 
It was not Aptuv Persian needed to be concerned with, but Aetes saw no point in warning him about angering goddesses. Rehema has spoken to him in hushed tones about the Mother Mountain, fierce and cold, protecting her child at a single Krynian's behest.

It would not take much for the fae to anger her, of that he was certain.

"If there is no key, then you will remove the muzzle, right now," Aetes said firmly, no shame or blush coloring his voice or face at Persian's...  teasing. "Rheinhard is not yours to control, nor is he in your domain.

"I have the right and the ability to end all negotiations here if you will not show even a modicum of respect for us or our traditions. What will it be?"


Keket's gaze was unwavering at Chaceledon's threats. The question, though, was whether he was truly afraid she could win Seteta back, or if he was simply possessive.

She waited till he was settled near the fire before ducking back inside to wait. She checked to make sure that Seteta was still sleeping, then sat near the tent flap to regather her thoughts and composure.

Meanwhile, Ausar watched the encounter from by the fire. When Chaceledon stalked over, he came up beside him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Sit," Ausar growled. "And let me remind you of something you seem to have forgotten the last couple days: we elves have very acute hearing.

"I will assume that everything you just said to Keket was said in the heat of the moment. But in the case that something does actually happen to her, just know that I am not the only one who heard what you said."

He leveled his gaze at Chaceledon.

"I suggest that you confess that conversation to Seteta very quickly."
 
“Aetes…” Rheinhard stepped between the bristling priest and the fae. “…I have missed this. Please understand. I can breathe. I can eat. I can drink. Do not take this from me.” He touched his forehead to Aetes’, blue eyes trying to communicate to him as best he could.

“Training.” Persian said, all mirth gone from his voice, and something like disgust replacing it. “And personally, not a method I agree with. You misunderstand my intentions. I’ll set my tent at a fair distance, out of respect.” He inclined his head, and wandered away from the fire.

Rheinhard had his forehead nestled in the cleft of Aetes’ chest, mask wires pressed against his clothes. The pressure across his nose and cheekbones felt good. Familiar, and calming.

___________________

It seemed peace and a moment to calm down weren’t going to be in the cards. Chaceledon shrugged off Ausar’s hand and glared at him. “Worst I’d do is sock her in the face. Unlike Seteta, I trust her to be faithful to me. Even if Keket tried anything, she’d reject her.” He said, brows furrowed.

Chaceledon looked into the fire, stonily, his face schooled into the cold expression he’d used when he was angry at Oor. “And keep your fucking paws off my children.” He snapped at Ausar, pulling his clothes closer.
 
Aetes felt numb as Persian finally stepped away. He heard Rheinhard's words, could understand what he meant, but he couldn't shake the anger--the  rage--he'd felt watching Persian lock that thing on Rheinhard's face with no warning or explanation except that Rheinhard frightened his people.

"I am not trying to take anything from you, meruv," Aetes finally said with a sigh. He was aware of the tense moods on the other side of the fire as well, and was trying to not let it bleed into his unease as well. "But it would be different if you had put it on yourself, like you did at the celebration. If Persian was not the only one who could unlock it."

He wrapped his arms around Rheinhard. "I do not trust him," Aetes whispered. "I cannot trust him, after everything he has orchestrated against us."


Ausar sighed and sat down next to Chaceledon, leaving enough distance between them that the dragon would not feel crowded.

"Seteta is very confident," he said quietly, "but she's experienced quite a bit of upheaval the last several weeks. Forgive me for making some assumptions but... I assume you and Persian have a history, because otherwise what happened last night would not have bothered her so much."

Between remembering a past life, the strain of coming into her full power and preparing for the Nameday, and then a mild concussion... Ausar was honestly surprised that Seteta had--was--holding together this well.

"Persian especially... will be a sore spot for her. I imagine she is feeling guilty for drawing his attention back to our people so strongly. Then to... hear you confide in him about so much..."

Ausar sighed again, reaching up to rub his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

"She wants to trust you. To be able to confide in you herself. To ask for your help in dealing with Persian. But she doesn't know what she can tell you now, without knowing whether or not what she says in the privacy of your bed will make it to Persian's ear with a drink."
 
Rheinhard tilted his head up a bit, rubbing the mask bars against Aetes’ neck. “I am used to this. I wore it for forty years. Just because I cannot unlock it does not mean I cannot get out of it. Leather can be cut.” He lifted his hand to touch Aetes’ cheek. “You do not have to trust him. But you do have to live with him. Fae will never leave, and be grateful it is him and not the Summer Court.”

Rheinhard lifted his head to look Aetes in the eyes. “To you, Persian is evil. To me, he is the last in a long line of evils. He is more human than fae now.” He touched foreheads with him again, and relaxed in Aetes’ hold. “I have lived my entire life in the collar, without end in sight. Even here. Even now. If Ausar commanded me I would have no choice.”

He took Aetes’ hand. “Come to bed. There is no sense getting angry over something you cannot change, and must live with.”

______________________

Chaceledon gave Ausar a look. “Persian and I do have a history, not that it’s any of your business.” He said sharply. “I’m allowed to have friends. Even friends you two disagree with. All we talked about was how much I love your daughter, and if you had such wonderful hearing you’d know I’d never put Persian’s safety above hers.”

He clenched his jaw for a second. “Do you even try to understand? Persian looked out for me and Rheinhard in quiet little ways when we both thought we were nothing but tools. He is subtle and political, neither of which the Inizae are. Im allowed to have friendships, especially ones you don’t approve of. Don’t you dare wear this…this facade of healing and acceptance when you won’t even have an honest conversation with the man. You think captivity and death are the worst things to happen to a people?” He laughed bitterly. “You think I haven’t experienced far worse than a collar? To me, your suffering is a Wednesday.”

Chaceledon stood. “I’m not hungry. And I mean it. Stay the fuck away from my children. Tianau, Nestor, all of them.” He eyed Ausar. “Like you said. No name, no people.” He walked away from the Inizae and sat down, resisting the urge to walk to Persian’s tent.
 
"So long as Persian enslaves people against their will and does everything he can to gain an advantage over us and make a profit at our expense, he will always be evil," Aetes murmured, running a thumb over Rheinhard's knuckles. "He is the only fae to ever bother us. He may be more human than fae now, after all these years, but he does not have the limitations of a human and that is what is frightening."

He chuckled, and pulled Rheinhard close again. "We should at least eat something before retiring. Supper is nearly ready."


Ausar sighed, his face pinching as Chaceledon stood and walked away. Chaceledon was clearly not in the mindset to listen, and speaking would likely be futile. But still... he had to try, so he stood again and walked within earshot of the dragon.

"It's not like we have had the opportunity to have an honest conversation with him," Ausar pointed out, taking great effort to keep his voice calm. "He hasn't come forward with sincerity either. There is always something he hopes to gain or steal, when he has already gained more than anyone. Even bringing Amphetrion's body has the aura of deceit around it, because he swore to Rehema that he wanted to lay him to rest himself because of their long history.

"Just because you have suffered in one, long lifetime does not negate the sufferings of our people over generations in the same span of time. If you think captivity and death are all we've dealt with, then you have much to learn about the world."

Ausar cast a weary glance toward Persian's tent. "Of course you can have friends. But friendship doesn't mean you tell them everything about your mate with no hesitation. It doesn't mean you talk about future possibilities with your friend before you've even discussed them with your mate.

"The hopes you expressed about the future of the sands... all of those things you should have talked with her about first, since you seem to think she is the one who will bring it to fruition."

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep chill of night was teasing at the air.

"I am... sorry, for what I said, though. I called you of no name and no people out of anger, and nothing more. You did give up your family for the sake of my daughter, and no matter what happens between you two, that is not a sacrifice that can be overlooked."

He hesitated a moment longer, uncertain whether he should say anything more, especially in regard to the Volkers.

But... no. That could wait.

Ausar turned and quietly headed back to the fire to help finish the dinner preparations.

Aetes had brought supplies from the temple, so dinner this evening would be better than the last few nights. There was fragrant rice and stewed goat and thick yogurt with honey and dates.

Ausar served his mother first, then found Hassani and told him to bring Keket out to eat. Then he dished up three more plates, balanced one carefully in the crook of his elbow, and carried the other two in his hands.

"You should try to eat some," he told Chaceledon, approaching him again. "And you should take this to Seteta."

He set two of the bowls down next to Chaceledon, then headed to Persian's tent.

He cleared his throat when he stood outside the opening. "I... know you may not want to eat with us," he called to Persian, "but you are welcome to do so. Or you can eat here."


Seteta still slept within Nebit's tent, though she was beginning to rouse. Her stomach was becoming more demanding than her mild headache, but she still sighed and buried her head back under the blankets with a quiet sob as she remembered everything that had happened since the night before. Gods, she felt like an embarrassed fool and she wasn't sure why.
 
“No, but he has the limitations of a fae, and those I am used to killing.” Rheinhard said simply. He nodded in assent to getting food, and took Aetes’ hand in his own. As they walked down to the fire to get food, he saw Chaceledon sitting a distance away, settled on the sand. He was about to go toward his mother when he saw Ausar approach him instead.

The dragon watched Ausar stonily. “Really? And here I thought becoming hedahn wasn’t important. Any other rules against celebrating my engagement or future children I should know, master?” He asked, venom dripping from his voice as the elf put down the bowls. He was most definitely not in the mood.

Chaceledon’s food was summarily torched, but the untouched bowl was grabbed and Chaceledon walked down the dunes toward Seteta’s tent. The glare he shot Hassani bordered on hostile, but the ex-pet was already fussing over Keket and ignored him. The dragon pushed back the tent flap and identified the lump of blankets as being his likely target. He set the bowl down carefully, and sat against the tent wall. He closed his eyes, folding his arms.

At least he could carry through with his threat to sock Keket in the face if she came back at him.

Persian was just finishing unpacking his things. He had changed from travelling clothes into something a bit more loose flowing; linen pants and a shirt, and sandals rather than boots. He opened his tent when he heard Ausar and raised an eyebrow. “Less that I don’t want to eat with you…more that I assumed I wasn’t allowed.” He said lightly. He shrugged on his canvas coat, as the desert would begin to cool, and stepped outside to take the bowl from Ausar. He frowned slightly at the tinge of smoke in the air and saw a charred spot where Chaceledon had been sitting.

Ah.

Things were clearly going well.

“I take it we were being a bit loud last night.” He said warily.
 
"Just talk to her, Chaceledon,, if she's willing" Ausar snapped back over his shoulder. "Make the same amount of effort she has made for you the last several weeks."

By the waters and sands, could the dragon be anymore obtuse?

Fortunately, Persian didn't make him wait long, and Ausar handed the food over.

"I can't promise anyone will pretend to like you," he said with a shrug. "And I would suggest that you stay away from Aetes for the moment. But you won't be chased away if you join us for a meal."

He gestured for Persian to walk beside him back to the fire, though he waited to see if the fae would be joining them or not.

"A... bit loud, yes," Ausar grimaced. He didn't want to say much about Seteta to Persian. "She is still... coming to sorts with everything, I think. Especially being Nailah reborn."

That would not be something the fae couldn't deduce for himself.


Seteta sighed. She'd heard footsteps and assumed it was Keket coming to wake her, but... then there was silence. The smell of food was wafting through the air, though, and she was hungry.

She sat up with a groan, pushing the blankets back and reaching up to rub her forehead with her hands before combing through her loose hair with her fingers.

She turned to stand, and stilled as she caught sight of Chaceledon.

"You're here," she whispered, but her voice was only sad.
 
Persian didn’t seem to mind. He strolled easily down to the fire, ignoring Rheinhard’s loud blowing noise. He was well used to Volker warning sounds and how to heed them. He knew Rheinhard would put himself between Persian and Aetes. He was being protective because his mate was upset, and he didn’t need his teeth to be lethal.

Persian settled in to eat, calmly. “I apologize, then, for our volume. Chaceledon and I haven’t had a chance to truly talk in years, and I’m afraid we got a tad carried away.” He told Ausar. “And your daughter? Is she recovering?”

Chaceledon’s heart wrenched when he heard Seteta speak. “Yeah. I’m here.” He said quietly, lifting his head. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He looked equally dejected, and sad. “I didn’t know.” He muttered. “I just…wanted to talk to someone.” The dragon settled his chin on his crossed arms.
 
Ausar was silent for a few moments as he made his own plate of food, then sat next to Persian.

"The Nameday has... set her back some, I think," he answered truthfully. "She collapsed at the end of the performance and hit her head hard enough to knock her out for several hours.

"Before that, she was steadily improving."


Seteta's shoulders slouched and she looked down at the blankets, picking at them nervously.

She took a deep breath and tried to find something to say that would adequately express what she'd felt.

"I--" she started, then fumbled, reaching up to rub her head again. "I am afraid and I don't know why."

She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "You said you would come back, but you didn't. And then you were laughing and talking with him, and dreaming of some grand peaceful future where the Inizae and Persian get along and I just...

"I don't know if I can create the future you want. I don't know if I even want to."

Her voice hitched and tears slipped from her eyes.

"I don't know if I can do this at all."
 
“Concussion. I should examine her. I did bring a medical bag with me.” Persian said offhandedly. “Nestor and I came up with a cocktail to keep her stable, but that soul of hers needs settling and that’s nothing the living can do. The Cardinals of the Autumn Court can.” He took a bite of his food and nodded appreciatively. “Your daughter is a strong one. She could survive a trip over land to the Winter Court, and go through the gate. Personally I would recommend you travel underground.”

Persian smirked. “Quite the cultural experience either way. I assume you’ve never left the desert?”

_____________________

Chaceledon took a deep breath, and stood up. He sat next to her, put an arm over her shoulders and pulled her against him. “I’m sorry. I was selfish.” He said softly. “It’s not so terrible to dream of peace, even if we don’t ever see it. Even if you don’t want it. The fantasy is there, and it…helps to live in it even for a few hours.”

He rested his cheek on her head. “Whatever your destiny is, whether it’s farming in this desert with a child on your hip or saving the country, I’ll be with you. The Volkers will be with you. Whatever happens.”
 
"He... mentioned the same," Ausar said, poking at his food mindlessly. "The dragon doctor. I don't remember his name. Seteta apparently had an encounter with a bull troll some months back on the road, too, and hit her head.

"We do have healers of our own, though. Once we reach the temple tomorrow, she'll be looked at."

He made a noise of unease as Persian mentioned the Autumn Court. "He... mentioned that too."

Ausar gave up on pretending to eat and set his dish in the sand, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"I haven't left the desert," he answered. "Seteta has seen more of the world than I have. But Nestor showed me a glimpse of the Autumn Court, in the Well."


Seteta curled into him when Chaceledon's arm slipped around her. She trembled, muffling sobs against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I ran away," she sniffled when he finished. "I was just... so tired and so angry. I knew if I saw Persian I'd explode, and I didn't have the strength to deal with... you being hungover."

She wiped her face and sat up again, but didn't leave his side.

"Mit wasn't... too harsh, was he?"

She'd asked him to make sure Chaceledon got back safely, but she'd seen the glimmer of anger in his eyes when he finally carried her into his mother's tent for the night. There wouldn't have been any talking him out of it, and so she hadn't tried.
 
“Quite the beautiful place, isn’t it? A rare glimpse of the afterlife.” Persian smiled thinly. “As the Steward of the Well you’ll have to go. There won’t be much time, and it’s likely they know about her condition. No rest for the wicked, I suppose.” He turned back to his meal thoughtfully. “Could always hitch a ride with one of my caravans heading north to Krynid. They can keep you safe.”

Persian smiled. “Or…flight would be a much faster way. At least until the air grows cold and Chaceledon is forced to land. It’s an interesting route, through the deep swamplands and forest, north through Floiland and the colder forests of the Winter Court to Underhill. Political upheaval there was one of the things Chaceledon and I spoke of. You’d do well to pay attention to world politics.”

_________________________

Chaceledon kissed her hair, pulling her closer and closing his eyes. “You’re still hurt.” He muttered. “You’re in a lot of pain and nothing has…settled like we planned. The ritual to Aptuv wasn’t enough.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, not caring that it was greasy and that they all needed another bath. “I’m sorry. I just missed him. I missed his friendship, and how easy it is for me to relax around him. He knows about as many of my secrets as you do.”

The dragon paused his movements when she mentioned Ausar. “I don’t want to repeat what he said to me. Or what Keket said to me.” He muttered, and offered her the bowl of food. “It’ll get cold.”
 
"It was... interesting," Ausar conceded. He wasn't sure he would call it beautiful, but it had not been a place of horror, and for that he was grateful.

He reluctantly took a bite of his food, but it was like sand in his mouth.

"We'll figure out how to get there after talking to Seteta," he said. "And as for politics... we'll figure that out too. Seteta will have to present herself to our elders before any firm plans are made along those lines."

They would go to the Autumn Court, just so Seteta could live peacefully. But whether all of the Aptuvi would accept her as queen would be another thing entirely.


Seteta sighed and shook her head. The ritual had helped, but it hadn't been enough, and it was frustrating. She... was able to keep better track of which things were the past and the present, but... nothing felt quite right all of the time.

"I'm not trying to control you," she whispered, body relaxing as Chaceledon's fingers combed through her hair. "I just... don't even feel in control of myself right now."

It has taken her by surprise, the whiplash of emotions. She'd felt so much like her old self that day, until they'd met up with Persian's caravan.

She made a noise of surprise when he mentioned Keket.

"You don't have to tell me what he said," she told him, though there was some confusion in her voice, "but... Keket? Gods, what did  she do?"

She took the bowl of food he offered, and slowly began to eat.
 
Persian chuckled. “Politics among the fae are so much different than the Inizae.” He said with a smirk. He finished his meal and set it aside. “Whether Seteta’s past dictates her future is for her to figure out. I think this is beyond even your elders if the very men who control rebirth have taken an interest.”

He looked Ausar up and down. “Tell me. The Well. How are you doing with its effects? I can’t imagine being wraith-touched suits you well. It even exhausted Oor at times.” He mentioned. “But that spell…valuable beyond measure. His goals for it were beyond imagining. Hollowing out a soul to make a house for a dead one. One could defy the gods and live for eternity.”

Persian’s eyes grew distant for a moment. “Imagine. Like a crab moving out of its shell, one lifetime after another.” He shook his head, breaking himself out of the reverie. “I would give much to know it’s workings.”

______________________

Chaceledon shook his head. “Threatened to steal you from me. I told her if she did, Rheinhard would start with her feet first. I was angry at her. She actually…I don’t know. She still has feelings for you.” He sighed. “You know I’d never actually hurt her.” He kissed Seteta’s hair. Something still niggled at the back of his mind.

“Your father…I’m not sure if I’m part of the Inizae anymore. He told me I had no people.”
 
Ausar wasn't sure what Persian's smirk was supposed to mean, but he knew he didn't like it.

"Seteta will have to decide, first," Ausar said firmly, and was somewhat relieved when Persian changed subjects.

But the way Persian talked of the Well sent chills up his spine.

"It... has taken some getting used to," he said at last. "But it's manageable. As for how it works... I wouldn't even know how to scratch the surface on that. Not would I."

He twisted and met Persian's gaze, his expression one of caution.

"Defying the gods, whether elf or man or fae, is not something to mess with. Why do you think the Inizae fell?"


Seteta huffed, chewing her food ferociously. "Keket would have a long, hard road to steal me from you or anyone else. Our relationship hasn't been like that in a very long time."

She sighed as she took another bite, then frowned.

"I've suspected for a while that she still had feelings. Honestly, I'd hoped that she would move on while I was away... but I came back sooner than I expected," she said teasingly, nudging his shoulder with hers.

When he told her what her father said, though, she grimaced.

"You are--will be--considered one of the Inizae through our marriage," she explained carefully. "Mut asked me if she should include you when Hassani and Rheinhard were brought into the tribe, but I wasn't sure if it would be detrimental to you... reentering dragon society. And since we're planning to marry, anyway... I didn't think it was necessary.

"But if you want it--if it would help you feel more stable--then it can be done when we reach the temple. Then you would be Inizae, no matter what happens."
 
“You aren’t the least bit curious as to how a wraith has kept one family tied down all these years…or why?” Persian asked, soberly. “Oor means to claw his way back from death. Truly transform. Not die and be reborn as is the way of things, but come back. Somehow, some way, Rheinhard is the key to that process. The fountain of youth, strange though it is. As long as you hold him, that creature will stop at nothing to get him back.”

He set his mouth in a grim line. “I haven’t seen the man in months, but I know how he operates. If you do this thing…hide your wife before you go. I’d suggest the Lion House; Seteta and Chaceledon own it.” Persian patted Ausar’s shoulder.
“I appreciate the dinner, by the way. I had resigned myself to thinking I’d be barred from interacting at all.” Persian returned to the conversation.

_________________________

Chaceledon smiled down at her. “Believe me, I wouldn’t let you go without a fight.” He said playfully. He kissed her hair, and let out tension he hadn’t know he was carrying in his shoulders. “I’ll join by marriage. The reality where I lose you is one where I happily cast myself into the void after.”

The dragon laid back on her bed, his hand trailing down her back. “Are you feeling better? We should rest.”
 
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"To be curious about the ways of evil is to begin to walk that path yourself," Ausar said with a firm shake of his head. "My intention is to heal what I can, and help any who wish it to find peace. I know Seteta had specific plans while she held the Well."

Ausar frowned, picking at his food again.

"It's strange. Seteta seemed certain that the wraith would seek her out. We aren't sure if he is able to sense who the current steward is since he has no tangible ties to the Well anymore."

He reached down and began sifting sand through his fingers.

"We Inizae can sense the Well in Rheinhard. It's a foul aura, like an untended graveyard. But there was nothing like that around Seteta when she was the Steward, and neither her nor Rehema have been able to detect it with me.

"Still, she was certain the wraith would make an appearance at the Nameday. She kept me close to her so that he would think she still held the Well, just in case. But there was nothing.

"Are you certain that Rheinhard himself is the key?"

When Persian suggested hiding Rehema in Pedeo, though, Ausar couldn't help but throw back his head and laugh.

"Even if he knows of my wife, it is unlikely he knows who she is. And truly, you think your city where fae and wraith alike are free to wander is safer than here, in the temple protected by Aptuv's Waters where not even wraith-touched can roam?"

Ausar chuckled, and let the sand fall out of his hand before picking up his bowl of food and digging into it with gusto.

"As I said earlier, I can't guarantee anyone will be friendly with you," he shrugged. "But no one will keep you from meals."


Seteta felt the tension melt from his shoulders, and leaned against him as she finished eating.

"Feeling better, but tired," she murmured, setting aside her dishes. She laid down next to him, settling her head against his shoulder and draping her arm over his waist.

"I don't suppose you set up our tent, did you?" she yawned. "Otherwise we'll be sleeping here with mit and mutit tonight."
 
“I thought for a while Oor would. But no one has seen him. He hasn’t returned to Witherhold, or to Pedeo. I thought I’d at least get an angry letter or visit to the bank because I’d awarded his holdings there to Chaceledon, but not a peep. It’s as though he’s simply blinked out, though both you and I know that’s not the case.” Persian said thoughtfully.

He tilted his head. “Why would a wraith spend so much time, energy, and suffering if he wasn’t the key? I’ve seen how carefully he managed that bloodline. He culled those who didn’t fit the cut, he restrained reproduction to a very select few, and when we discussed it he insisted on it being the best I had to offer. It went beyond mere fascination or pride in a project. It was obsession. He’d not let that go so easily. Not to a mortal.” Persian said grimly.

He didn’t appreciate the laugh, cocking an eyebrow. “Kept your children in and your god out for many years. Don’t be so swift to sniff at it.” He grumbled.

______________________

Hokkaido tapped his teacup, eyeing Nica. The water dragon had been invited over to offer his condolences for Chaceledon, but the way he was looking at him…he took a breath. “Peridot has told me you haven’t been acting yourself.” He began. “But you seem quite composed.”

Nica smiled at him. “I came to tell you a little secret, Hokkaido.”

“Dahnesh, please.”

“Hokkaido.” Nica set down his teacup and gave him a serious look. “It’s me.”

Hokkaido gave him a look. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I have no qualms in teaching you the same lessons I’ve taught Peridot about respe-“

“Almost twenty thousand years ago you contracted a wraith to teach your stupid child a lesson. A child you wanted to get rid of quietly, because he wasn’t yours.” Nica said icily. “This wraith agreed, and you would fund his attempt to claw back life from the gods themselves.”

Hokkaido was pale, and bolted out of his chair. “If you mean to blackmail me I’ll kill you here and now!” He snarled, and Nica threw back his head and laughed. A familiar, halting laugh. “I…it’s impossible..”

“Not anymore!” Oor cackled. “I’m alive again. Here. Having taken the body of another.”

“Lies! You just killed the poor stupid boy and-“

Oor crossed the space between them, and touched Hokkaido’s cheek. “Warmth. Wraiths can’t be warm. We don’t breathe.” He purred. “This isn’t an illusion. It’s me.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Hokkaido’s. Unsurprisingly, the other man flinched and stepped back as though he’d been slapped.

“How?!”

“I’ll tell you, but we have to get rid of that useless, cheating bitch first.”
 
Ausar snorted, bemused at Persian's grumbling. "You have water in that city, don't you? Then you never kept Aptuv out. Our god just hid from you, lingering in the quiet spaces for any looking."

He set aside his now-empty bowl and kicked out his legs, resting his weight on his palms as he looked up at the darkening sky, listening closely.

He had no experience with wraiths, and Oor was one that Persian called a friend, at least once.

"Obsessions are... short-sighted," he said thoughtfully. "They blind us to most everything else while they monopolize our attention. Inevitably, something almost always happens that yanks someone out of that obsession.

"In this case, it was likely Seteta's..." he hesitated to call it such, but it was how the wraith would think of it "...theft of both Chaceledon and Rheinhard. It made him shift priorities somehow.

"The question is what might those priorities be now? He'll still very likely come back for the Well, at some point, just as a point of pride. But it's not what's driving him right now."

Ausar took a deep breath, and let it out while tipping his head back and rolling his shoulders.

"We won't figure out all the answers tonight, though."

He stood and took his own bowl, holding out a hand for Persian's dish as well.

"We'll have plenty of time to strategize about Oor the next few days. Today was exceedingly long, though, and I would like some rest."


Aetes went the next morning to speak with the three interested in learning more about the Inizae, making sure they understood the rules about the temple: there was to be no bloodshed, no hunting, and within the direct vicinity of the temple itself, no weapons. And any who wished to enter the temple and visit its library would first have to pass through the waters of Aptuv.

When all of that was settled, it took till late afternoon to actually reach the vicinity of the temple itself. There were not tents scattered about like the last time, but all of the stone houses around the spring glowed with light.

Rehema waited near the temple, and Ausar went ahead of the others to greet her.

"The stone houses are warmer this time of year," Seteta told Chaceledon. "And there plenty of them for the temple workers who live here permanently, as well as several dozen maintained for guests."

She and Chaceledon would have their own private quarters.
 
Chaceledon was relieved to be at the temple grounds. He had missed this place. Rheinhard was antsy, pacing and snapping his teeth, but he obeyed the rules like anyone else. Chaceledon felt for him, Volkers were built to fight. He had to be itching, aching for a good scrap by now. There was only so much the Well could do.

Sex with Aetes helped, and with his muzzle on he couldn’t tear the man to shreds. Chaceledon had some small conversations with Persian, but until Seteta healed the pair agreed any more partying was off the table. Persian, not wanting to be presumptuous, set up his tent and Rheinhard did the same. Rheinhard didn’t like the stone buildings; hot and cramped, and he wasn’t sure if Aetes would sleep under the bed with him.

Rheinhard approached Ausar. When he wasn’t with Aetes his place was by the man who held his leash. He eyed Seteta’s father, unsure of what his reaction to the muzzle would be.

“When do we meet with the elders?” He asked.
 
Ausar kissed Rehema softly, smiling as he wove his fingers in between hers. She leaned into his arm as Rheinhard came over.

"When they've all arrived," Ausar answered. "The first of them will likely arrive within another day. Some of them are several days out."

He was not as bothered by the muzzle as Aetes had been, especially after confirming that Rheinhard wore it willingly.

"Do you need... to leave?" he asked quietly. "I know you've been limited lately, both at Hedoni and returning here. If you need to wander the desert for a few days, arrangements can be made."

He'd seen how antsy Rheinhard was acting, especially later in each day.

"I'll take care of it," Aetes said, approaching the group. While Rheinhard was putting up the tent, he had taken care of what he needed to within the temple. He slipped his hand into Rheinhard's and kissed his cheek above the edge of the muzzle. "Let me know when you need something, whatever it is."

Ausar chuckled as Aetes tugged Rheinhard away. "He's smitten," he murmured, kissing Rehema's hair.

Aetes led Rheinhard around the temple to a large outcropping of rocks at the far side of the spring.

"We have a steam bath," he told Rheinhard. "I made sure it was free for us to use for a couple hours."

There was a goat hair blanket over one end of the outcropping, and Aetes lifted it up to show Rheinhard. Steam wafted out of the entrance.

The interior was dimly lit with glowing stones, and it was tall enough to sit comfortably but not to stand.

Aetes let the door covering fall closed and gestured to hooks set in the rock crevices outside. "We undress out here," he said.


Seteta led Chaceledon to one of the stone houses nearer the temple. "Mit will stay in the quarters Mut has within the temple," she said, gesturing toward the wing that housed the priest or priestess. Even though Aetes was the priest in charge right now, Rehema still ranked higher.

Most of the houses were oriented to face south, so the walls could capture the greatest amount of sunlight in the cooler part of the year. The doorway was covered with a thick blanket of felted camel and goat hair.

The interior of the house was sparse. There was only one room, but it was large, with a generously sized bed. The frame was made of palm saplings that had been lashed together. There was a table with two chairs, a warming brazier, and a small cook area made of slabs of rock. Clearly it was meant for heating water more than cooking.

"There's a communal kitchen," Seteta told him, then giggled, "not that you'll need it much."

She sighed as she looked around the room. "I know it's... less than you're used to," she said quietly. "But it'll be all right for a while, won't it?"

Seteta squeezed his hand, then went back outside and led him toward one of the other houses.

"Mutit has our things from Hedoni," she told him. "Then I... suppose I should go see the healer."
 
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Rheinhard stiffened uncomfortably as Aetes kissed his cheek. He still wasn’t sure about affection in public. Evidence of it was fine, but in front of his steward? Sometimes he thought the Inizae needed to pick up a bit more…tact when it came to sex. They were entirely open. He followed Aetes anxiously. How was he going to explain what he needed?

He had too much energy. Too much relaxation. He’d had enough rest. They were going into another winter, normally a time of solitude for him. He never thought he would pine for the days on the road waylaying strangers while he waited for contracts. He was going soft. The muzzle was comforting, but it was only holding the anxiety at bay, not excising it.

Rheinhard thought about killing Persian’s pet. The other Ring of Teeth veteran. Persian would look down on it. So would everyone else. He wanted to hunt the Krynians as well. The smell of their weakness was meat in front of a wolf.

He undressed, distractedly, ducking under the cover and into the warm, humid bath. It recalled Xiuhatl in the rainy months. Gods, he missed forests as well. He sat, resting his cheek against the warm stone. The metal ground against the rock.

__________________________

Chaceledon looked at the hut. It was dismal. He tried not to show his disappointment; he needed to get used to this as hedahn. It wasn’t bad, per se, just small, and he would desperately miss his hotbed. He leaned over to kiss Seteta’s cheek. “Healer first. I want to see how you’re getting on.” He said soothingly.

Their things from Hedoni…if Rheinhard hadn’t brought them, they’d be burnt. The ballista would have had to be transported as well. Gods, where were they going to fit his clothes? At least he’d have clothing. Oh, how he hoped Rheinhard hadn’t packed what to send…the man was so hopelessly pragmatic.
 
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