Book One: Onnu and Pannu

Frustrations

The Council members came to visit Onnu more than she liked. They kept asking her to return for their little meetings, and she kept telling them that she could not.
   "You came once," they wheedled. "We require your counsel, oh wise Elder Dragon."
   It took supreme effort not to roll her eyes, but she managed. Barely. Not all of them were so obsequious, which gave her strength to handle those who were.
   "I am no wise woman, merely one who Listens to the Lord more closely. So it is that I recall His words, when He said that the Charon would only be held back the one time. I would risk the lives of my hatchlings, should I attempt another visit, and that I will not do."
   She would never, ever suggest that they hold their meetings near her home plains. That would mean attending whenever the whim took them, and she'd not the patience for it. She knew that her patience was supposed to be as infinite as her theorized lifespan, but she also knew that it was not. At least not with them. She had all the patience in the worlds, when it came to her children. Tediocrity, as she called it, was not something she could tolerate for long.
   The word combined tedium and democracy, with a touch of hypocrisy thrown in. She never spoke it aloud, but it became the main descriptive word for the Council members. She could not turn them away without being overtly rude, but she could, and did, point out the lack of accommodations for full-grown dragons overnight. That, at least, limited their stays to less than a day.
   "We've begun construction on domes outside the City," Alistair told her one day. "It is slow going, and diverts manpower from other infrastructure projects."
   "But necessary," she said flatly. He would get no sympathy from her. It was not her problem that they'd mismanaged resources that were literally given to them by God, as reward for their faith on Erdewaz. One day, one of them would push her hard enough that she would say the quiet part out loud, but for now, she kept it to herself. If they didn't know it, they were bigger fools than she thought.
   "You could expedite the process, yet you do not."
   Her teeth ground together. Audibly. He flinched, but there was pressure she did not see, holding his position for him
   "Any dragon could build domes faster than the smaller kin could. I do not possess any superior dome building muscles."
   She was walking the perimeter of the Hold, hatchlings in tow. It was good exercise for them. Alistair quick-stepped to stand in front of her. She stopped out of surprise, but did not yield.
   "You know full well what I mean," he hissed.
   "But we are also considering domes, Alistair."
   He stopped walking in his surprise, and she overtook him once more. He scrambled to catch up, wheezing out inquiries as to why.
   She was merciful enough to stop, in deference to both his shorter legs, and the humility to ask for clarification.
   "We cannot litter the planets with dragonholds, Alistair. Smaller settlements are needed. We must learn how to build structures on these new worlds that do not require the sacrifice of a dragon. After all, I will not be on Tupino forever. What would you do, when I move on to another Fortnight World?"
   His jaw hung open. It hadn't occurred to him that she could, or would leave them. She was afraid of that. They really needed to be more independent.
   "You know what I am, Councilor. That cannot be contained to just one of the worlds."
   And then she picked up her hatchlings, deposited them with their father, and leapt cleanly into the air to fly Above. She was curious whether he would follow her. Whether he could.
   Pannu and Steel regularly flew Above, as did the other girls--even Marla had made the journey--but she didn't know if anyone outside their neighborhood did so. She didn't intentionally set out to learn the answer, she was simply tired of talking to him. She gave him something tangible to bring the others, in the form of knowledge they should already have had. He would get no more from her that day.
   I swear, they test me far more than You do, she grumbled.
   The question of who was truly testing her flavored the ether. She got the sense that He was busy, but fully able to respond anyway.
   You know what I meant. How go the Tribulations?
   She wasn't asking with any expectation of a reply, but it was polite to ask after one's current activities, and He was most definitely One.
   It surprised her when He did answer... sort of. There weren't words, of course. What was going on, back on Erdewaz, was far too complex to even bother trying to convey with such mundane things as words. No, she was instead allowed a glimpse of the emotions that an eternal, immortal Being felt when Their Creation was being destroyed.
   Frustration. Too many were believing the antichrist, too few repented after they died. Sorrow that they'd sunk so low. Anger, of course, at what was being done to His Creation. If she didn't know better, and she most assuredly did not know better, she would almost say that He felt like He'd failed the human race.
   She responded to that, whether or not it was there. Her perception of Him was still quite human, and thus would likely always be flawed.
   You didn't fail all of us. Look how many are in Heaven, waiting to come to the Fortnight Worlds. Look how many of us are here. I have faith that more will come. And You know that I will... ugh, it sounds weird, but You know I'm always down to help 'em get here. It's the least I can do.
   She didn't know if she helped, but the storm Above did lessen a bit. The pressure on her auditory canals eased a little. Maybe even God needed to know that He was doing okay, sometimes. It seemed silly, and was probably just her human sensibilities, but if she helped at all, well, that was a good day's work.