Quest The Blue Wolf and The Child.

[Freya Thrakin]

Oris watched the young dragon with pride as the leather which bound her was burned away to ash. As she came close to him, all it took was a slight tug on the chain with his claws for it to be sliced. "There, little one. Freedom is yours once more." He turned his gaze to Ferelith upon noticing her distrust of the human, his eyes narrowing as he saw the gathering crowd of attackers. He mentally relayed the information to Freya, meanwhile advising Izerth, "The mercenary is an ally, she was the one who guided us to you. The ones she fights are the ones who wish to keep you chained and bound."

Upon seeing the bodyguards, Freya grimaced. Of course, nothing could be easy. She leaped off of the dragon's back, piercing her spear into the armor of one attacker that Ferelith had pushed against Oris. Keeping the pointed blade lodged in the man, she slashed at another that came near her, causing the two to topple over onto the ground, one lifeless and the other gasping.

"Ferelith!" She called out, looking away from the bloodied scene, "everything alrig-." Her voice stopped in her throat as she saw a strange scene before her, one of a woman disappearing into foul smoke and mist, leaving a wounded Ferelith.

The mercenary rushed towards Freya and the rest of the group near the tent, as near a dozen more bodyguards neared the scene. Her stomach was bloodied, a knife embedded into her flesh as a persistent reminder of the encounter. "We'll talk later," she said quickly, adding, "Get on Oris, fast." Freya grabbed onto the dragon's scaled back, helping Ferelith up soon after.

Oris looked down at Izerth, gesturing towards him. "Stay close, child." Smoke seeped from his maw, wisps trailing from between jagged teeth as they rose into the cavern air. The dragon began to growl, a rumbling sound akin to the churning of earth. The wave of mercenaries faltered in their prideful march, an air of uncertainty permeating their ranks.

Then came the fire. A torrent of red and orange which flooded the air in front of them, bathing the cavern floor in a brilliant inferno of heat. The surge of flame dimmed the unbridled confidence that had accompanied the bodyguards, sending some into frightened escapes and others to be consumed by the fire. Soon, the onslaught ended, leaving only the pillars of remnant flame dancing upon wood and stone, and the slowly recovering group of mercenaries and their reinforcements.

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“R-right..” She muttered trying to climb on Oris before Freya had to basically pull her up. Even in her deathly ill state she was able to manage a slight blush a Freya took her hand. “Freya..I think I might l-.” She began before glancing at the wound. It was already starting to turn green as Ferelith suddenly looked away and vomited a viscous green liquid with an honest to gods plume of acrid green smoke escaping between her lips.

“Poison..for our kind...a gift..” She said wiping her mouth before nearly slipping off Oris. Forcing her to wrap her arms around Freya’s waist once more. She felt the heat from Oris fire as it rained down like some kind of hellish nightmare. “My gods..” She murmured in awe. The image burning itself into her memory.

She had never seen such destruction so quickly. As much destruction maybe, but only after a two or three day long siege and ransacking. This happened in the span of less than a minute.

The blades handle prevented her from pulling herself too close lest the knife be driven deeper. Every slight nudge caused her to cry out in agony before quickly biting it back every time. She put in a tough face even as tears streamed down her face.

“Where’s Izzy..” she asked. Her grip already bringing to loosen. Her body was deteriorating at an insane rate.

Given her healing this shouldn’t be the case as well as her tattoo remaining dull and seeming to blink as it tried to glow for a moment only to go out.

 

[Izerth]

Free from the iron now she immediately took flight. At first her thoughts went toward the man who’s been tormenting her, but the dragon’s words had her attention. Perhaps later she would have her vengeance. Hence, instead of rushing into a fight she might not win weakened and small as she was, Izerth flew up to attach herself against her new protector. She easily climbed the side of his neck to settle behind one of the largest scales. Her claws didn’t hurt him, in fact, they matched so well with the structure of his body that she felt like this was where she was meant to be. Curling up, with wings close to her body and head just peeking from behind the large scale she had chosen as her shield, the little dragon held on tightly and stayed there as the larger dragon took flight.

“What’s your name?” she wanted to know, but flames erupted from his mighty jaws, burning away all of their enemies. It’s why she didn’t bother him for now. She simply stared at the flames and heat in awe. Her wonder grew as people turned to ash. Yet she hid her curiosity well. Mostly out of respect for her savior. Should he want to know things about her, she would answer, for now, however, she was planning on taking a short nap while finally feeling truly safe.

* * *​

 

[Freya Thrakin]

Freya, though she couldn't turn around fully, glanced back to see a sickened Ferelith. Her eyes fell to the putrid green wound, wincing as the viscous verdant liquid poured from her mouth. "Poison..." she repeated, racking her memories for any semblance of an idea for an antidote. It didn't resemble any she knew, but she was no alchemist. "Hold on, we'll find something for you once we get out of here." She gave a glance to Oris, who began to pound his wings against the heated air.

Through the fire and the flames, the dragon soared as the mercenaries and bodyguards looked on helplessly. Arrows streamed through the air, some falling short and some lodging themselves in the cavern walls. Mere moments later, moonlight met the four's eyes as Oris left the cave and entered the cool sky. A starry expanse stretched above them, the two moons hanging among them to illuminate their paths. Night had fallen.

"Izzy's here, don't worry," Freya replied. She could feel Ferelith's grip on her loosen as the poison took its hold. "You said you know this poison. Is there an antidote? Any remedy at all?" The usually calm and stubborn tone of the Nord now held a hint of concern and worry, spoken quickly and hasted.


Oris felt the small dragon curl up against one of his scales, safe for now. "She helped us find you, you know," Oris began in Draconic, referring to Ferelith. "Guilt is a strong thing. It doesn't discriminate from good or bad, from human or dragon. In her case, she heeded her guilt and chose to right her wrong." The dragon didn't elaborate, trusting Izerth to make her own decision.

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“It’s..something they gave her. The college. I’ll..I’ll be fine..I just need to let it run it’s course. If I pull out the knife before hand the poison won’t let the wound heal. I’ll die.” She said “Thats what she meant by a gift.”

“Once it clears it’ll scar but it should close. They used to coat arrows with it when they dealt with escapees. I..” she said before her face went pale and her grip slipped from Freyas middle as she began to slip off Oris.

The putrid liquid flowed from her nose as the poison worked its way through her brain. Unable to even manage the thought needed to scream her eyes held her contained agony.

But as Izzy’s safety was assured through all the agony a loom of relief passed over her features as the blackness rose to greet her eyes.

“Good..” She muttered. This must be what dying felt like..It was..peaceful..

 

[Izerth]

For Izerth it was quite hard to understand that someone who had betrayed her had come to her senses and then had came to rescue her. Curled up against the large dragon she tried to put together why one would do such a thing. Guilt, she tasted to word in silence wondering what it truly meant as she has never felt it before, nor did she really know the meaning of it. Unsure of what to do she soon quietly moved across the large scales while they soared beneath the night sky. Her claws matched the texture, she felt comfortable walking even while the wind was howling around them. Her wings were closed and her tail simply dragged behind her when she reached both Freya and Ferelith.

“What’s guilt?” she wanted to know, asking the red headed warrior. She let the dragon be, he didn’t appear to be a very talkative person. Perhaps this woman wouldn’t be either, but Izerth tried anyway.

“Thank you for coming here, for helping me,” the small one explained, warily coming closer to Freya. Putting her head on her thigh as she curled up here, her ruby red eyes met the sight of Ferelith and now noticed what shape she was in. Something stung. A feeling filled up her mind. One she found hard to describe. She was sorry for the traitor. Had Ferelith chosen to stay away and let Izerth be a prisoner then surely she wouldn’t have been this hurt.

Perhaps this was what guilt felt like?

“Will she be alright?” Izerth wondered, looking up at Freya from her comfortable spot. Knowing that the woman was somehow tied to the dragon they were riding gave Izerth a sense of safety. Still, her feelings were a mixture of various things, a ball of yarn almost impossible to unwind.

* * *​

 

[Freya Thrakin]

Freya grimaced, despite the assuring words. It was difficult to match up Ferelith's words of recovery when she seemed so ill, as though she was hanging onto a single thread. As Ferelith began to slip off, the Nord quickly turned around to grasp her arm and tugged her back. "Alright, don't get too relaxed. You're still in the air." She breathed out a sigh of relief.

Her attention was drawn away from Ferelith as the youngling asked her a question. A momentary visage of confusion passed over her until Oris mentally informed her of the conversation he had with Izerth moments ago.

"Guilt... it's complicated. It's not really something you're aware of, you don't think you have it." She paused for a moment, trying to order her thoughts into words. Her mind went back to her childhood; how guilty she felt, as if her actions could have changed anything for her tribe. "It digs at you, claws at you after doing something. It starts off small and builds up until you feel like you have to do something about it."

She nodded, a short smile appearing on her face. "No worries. It's our specialty. After all, Oris and I are dragon keepers. We spend our lives protecting dragons and ensuring they're not exploited by people like that guy in the black market." She glanced back to Ferelith, the smile falling a bit. "She'll be fine, the poison has to wear off. All we can do now is make sure she doesn't end up slipping off."

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

Frereliths eyes snapped open as she realized she was in the air still. Her arms that had been so loosely looped around Freya’s waist now snapped tight.

Not restraining her strength in her fear the force would bruise her ribs without a doubt Ferelith only noticing and loosening almost immediately.

“I’m sorry..” She muttered weakly. “I need to..Lie down.. Freya..” She gasped through wheezing pained breaths. “Please..” She said after a moment.

She hadn’t been honest about the poison. In all honesty she had a very slim chance of it running through her system. The poison killed older versions of experiments.

Their health regeneration having been surmounted and outpaced by the newer experiments decades ago.

The college hadn’t cared.

Thinning out the weak in ther heard that the trials hadn’t already as well as only almost killing the experiments that had potential was a win win. You either survived to be brought back or died and saved them time.

Ferelith has never rolled those dice. She had just kept her head low and stayed by her sister. She had only escaped when being so brutalized she was thought dead and tossed out with the other corpses.

She just had to guess she was the type that didn’t die horribly after struggling for hours. But how she felt right now...It didn’t encourage her on her chances.

 

[Izerth]

Learning by listening she waited in her safe spot but noticing again that Ferelith was slipping, Izerth bit through the bitter pill and at least moved to the woman’s side to form a small ball she could lean on. That way there was a smaller chance of her sliding off the dragon should Freya end up paying a little less attention. While still bruised and hurt, both physically and emotionally, she planned to endure Ferelith’s leaning should it become necessary. Perhaps just to make sure that one day, when this one got better, she could pose her the question of why she had betrayed her to begin with.

For now, they rushed through the sky, and with her claws holding onto the dragon they rode, she felt safe enough to sleep.

* * *​