Private Tales Same Gods, Different Texts

[Rowan Mars]

Apep landed his massive frame with a heavy thud, sending ripples through the earth around him. Rowan dismounted with practiced ease, sliding down alongside the black dragon's forelimb to avoid the large, venomous spines and claws along Apep's hind legs and tail. He walked to the edge of the plateau and knelt, peering out over the vast expanse. Smoke rose from a singular area below. Sure as Rowan could see them, he knew the Thagretans below could see him.

Thanasis and Thagretis had been civil for some time, but tensions never left. While both societies worshipped dragons, there were notable differences in how. Thanasians found the Thagretan texts blasphemous, and vice versa.

Now there had been word that a group of Thagretan settlers had begun foraging nearer to Thanasis' territory. To avoid an all-out conflict, only Rowan and one other rider had been sent to investigate. Observe, report, but do not contact, those were the instructions.

Apep was not the obvious choice for a scouting mission. He was large and notably violent. A pitch-black silhouette atop a cliff was easy to spot, and the green venom that dripped from his teeth did not project "dioplomacy." This was, of course, intentional. Rowan and Apep had been sent here to be as much scout as warning. Intimidation, without outright provocation. Thanasis knew Rowan could keep Apep under control, while the dragon could inspire more fear than its polite rider.

The other rider Rowan would meet here, as they had been assigned from different locations. He had not been given a name, only that she would be riding a white dragon.

Briseis

 

[Briseis]

Ciraxis descended from the sky with the grace of a falling snowflake, his white scales glinting in the sunlight as his powerful wings beat the air in slow, deliberate strokes. Despite his size, the dragon’s landing was much softer than one might expect, his talons finding purchase on the rocky ground with barely a sound. Briseis, perched upon his back, clung tightly to the saddle, her posture tense and unsure.

As soon as Ciraxis’ claws touched the earth, Briseis released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. She was getting better at this—at least at the flying part—but the anxiety that gnawed at her whenever she had to dismount in front of others still hadn’t subsided. With a practiced, but still slightly awkward, motion, she swung her leg over the saddle and slid down Ciraxis' side, landing with a soft thud on the ground below.

Briseis paused, taking in the scene before her. She spotted the other rider standing near the edge of the plateau. His dragon was impossible to miss. The massive black beast loomed like a shadow, its venomous spines and claws gleaming menacingly. Now that was a creature designed to inspire fear, and he did so with ease.

Ciraxis shifted slightly, his blue eyes watching the larger dragon with a calm but alert gaze. She couldn't help but notice the contrast as she looked between the two dragons. Ciraxis was a magnificent creature, yes, but there was a softness to him that could not measure up to the black dragon's intimidating presence. She was so out of her depth.

Swallowing her nerves, Briseis forced herself to walk forward, her boots crunching softly on the gravel as she approached the other rider. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but as she neared him, she could see the calm confidence in his stance, the kind of self-assurance that she envied but couldn’t quite emulate.

Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a simple tie, though loose waves had been swept free to frame her delicate face. Hazel eyes held a hint of uncertainty as they flitted between Rowan and the massive black dragon beside him. Clad in practical brown flight leathers, the supple material hugged her lithe form while offering the protection necessary for dragon riding. The outfit, though well-fitted and functional, bore the subtle marks of wear—a testament to her recent, rigorous training. Despite her slight stature, there was an undeniable strength in her posture, a quiet determination that belied the nervous energy she struggled to contain.

“I presume you're the one I'm to meet..” she called out, her voice steady, though it took effort to keep it that way. She stopped a safe distance away, giving a polite nod. “I’m Bri- eh, Mis- Lady Briseis..." she sighed and rolled her eyes at herself. "Briseis."

Ciraxis lowered his head slightly, snorting softly as if sensing her unease. Briseis reached out to pat his neck, finding a small measure of comfort in the familiar gesture. "Excuse our tardiness, My Lord?.."

 

[Rowan Mars]

Apep detected the approaching pair before Rowan did. The white dragon did not stand out so sorely in the bright sunlight, but its scales did gleam when they caught the sun in the right way. If Apep was silhouette upon the cliffside, Ciraxis would be a beacon.

Rowan continued to observe the small camp below through a small spyglass. They had build up walls that obscured much of his view, but what he could see was... not very interesting. He fought the urge to turn and watch the other rider land and dismount. He had not grown up with dragons in his back yard like some of the nobility, and so still greatly enjoyed watching them. This, however, outed him as low-born rather quickly, he had found out.

Briseis' voice found Rowan's ear and he turned to finally face her. She was slight of stature, almost a foot shorter than him, and somewhat willowy. Features that would be a detriment on foot could be quite advantageous in the air. She was less likely to be thrown about by turns and likely didn't have to content with as much wind ripping at her in the sky. Rowan had often wished her could lie lower, sink into Apep's scales to avoid the freezing wind, but everything about the black dragon was sharp and angry and uncomfortable.

Apep exhaled slowly through steaming nostrils to acknowledge Ciraxis' arrival. His breath was sour and acidic, and his green eyes gleamed without malice, but also devoid of any warmth whatsoever.

Rowan, on the other hand, offered Briseis a subtle but soft smile. Not a grin, nothing so informal, but a gentle curve of the lip and a relaxation of his face. The smile widened just a hair at her stumbling. Was she nervous? Briseis, now why did that sound familiar?

"Rowan," he replied, gently extending a hand in greeting. "Just... Rowan."

He turned back to the ledge and took a step towards the edge. "And not to worry, you haven't missed much." He offered Briseis the small bronze telescope and indicated the settlement below. "Could be miners, they've brought some large carts and beasts of burden, but what they could be digging for out here I don't know."

 

[Briseis]

His subtle smile caught her off guard, and she found herself returning it, if only briefly, before her gaze dropped to the ground, embarrassed by her own unease.

"Just Rowan," she echoed quietly and hesitated for the briefest moment before reaching out to shake his hand. She was still getting used to these formalities, these moments of contact that still felt so foreign to her despite their simplicity. But Rowan’s straightforwardness put her at ease, if only a little.

The white dragon let out a soft huff, his breath warm against the cool air. He dipped his head slightly, acknowledging Apep with a soft, rumbling purr. Briseis quickly realised her oversight and turned to her dragon with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, and this is Ciraxis.” she said. The dragon preened.

As Rowan turned back to the ledge, Briseis followed him, her eyes darting from the dragons to the vast landscape below. The plateau offered a commanding view of the terrain, and she found herself momentarily awed by the sight. When Rowan offered her the telescope, she accepted it with a nod of thanks, trying to mask her inexperience.

Briseis stared at the instrument for a moment before lifting it to her eye and frowning. "They're a little far away.. Can't we get closer?" she asked with a frown, squinting at the tiny dots she could see moving around.

 

[Rowan Mars]

“If we get much closer they may take it as aggres-…”he stopped abruptly after looking back to Briseis. It took him a solid three seconds to piece together what he was seeing. “…sion.” He reached out to gently, yet firmly, take the telescope and flip it around so that the correct end was facing Briseis.

It was difficult for him to mask his initial incredulity. Who had they sent him? Was this rider as green as she seemed? He knew this was a low-risk assignment but an inexperienced rider was not a good choice for sensitive political boundaries.

Apep seemed to agree, and made a low chirping rattle towards Ciraxis. Something communicating the general sentiment of “are you serious?”

“You should see more easily like this,” Rowan recovered, fixing his face. It would do no good to dwell on this hiccup.