The Celestial Way

Chapter 8.3 - Haven by the Way

The interior was exceedingly spacious, made to accommodate dragonkind comfortably. There was a single cavernous chamber, its smoothed stone walls reaching high above to a series of slitted windows near the ceiling. Large clusters of energized quartz were embedded in various places, bathing the chamber in soft, multi-colored hues. Terraces and perches, natural and artificial, ranged the walls. At the center of the temple was a huge triangular dais. Great, stone talons extended from the dais' corners, curving inward, and glowing orbs floated at their tips. Showers of motes fell quietly from the orbs, whirling in silent clouds of cyan and purple on their way to the floor.

Standing before the dais was the Council of Dragon Retreat: two males, one female, and a synthmorph of decidedly ambiguous appearance. The organic individuals were dressed in formal, free-flowing garments. The rest of the temple was empty, though there were spimes and other sensors installed at various places. A loud debate was currently going on between three of the councilors present.

"We should leave," the female councilor said, leaning her tall and slender Highlander frame forward in apprehension. "Our best course would be to evacuate to one of the capital cities, like Kryoon."

"Preposterous!" replied one of the male councilors, a dark-skinned Scorchlander. "Kryoon is on the other side of the Equatorial Ice Flats, thousands of kilometers from here. And it's under the rule of the Consortium, no less!"

"We cannot stay here," the Highlander councilor insisted. "Whatever's out there, it is too big to protect our people from it. In Kryoon we will be safe!"

"This shrine-town is our homeland," the Scorchlander councilor said. His rich basso voice elevated in pitch. "It is both our and ours ancestors' legacy, built and maintained for centuries. We will guard it with our lives if we must, but we won't let it fall – be it to the Consortium, the Union, or some other calamity!"

"I concur with the decision to stay," the synthmorph councilor said with a dispassionate, genderless voice. The lamp-like viewsensor on their head blinked once. "I raise awareness about the logistical difficulties of moving our population across non-trivial distances."

"We could use–" the Highlander councilor began, yet then the four of them noticed Airo and the rest of the approaching party.

The Scorchlander councilor stepped forward. "Thankfully you have returned, Itrix," he said. "We welcome you back. Though I can't say the same about the stellar barbarians you have brought along. The proud, powerful Consortium troopers, coming to ask the common folk for aid!" Then he saw Veralla, and his speech faltered. "...and that is a dragon," he added weakly.

"She is so dark!" the Highlander councilor breathed. "Is something wrong with her?"

"It is possible she's been mistreated," the synthmorph councilor said. "Probably by the strangers who accompany her."

Airo steeled himself against the outbursts which would be sure to follow such accusations. However, before either he or anyone else could say anything, the dragonet spoke.

"What are those lights?" she exclaimed, staring in wonder at the motes falling from the hovering orbs.

The Council stopped and glanced behind themselves, caught off-guard by the question. The Scorchlander councilor first shook off his confusion. "They are part of the architecture," he snapped in annoyance.

"They seem so... complete," the dragonet murmured.

"What is your name, little one?" the Highlander councilor asked.

"Oh, I am Veralla," the dragonet said, turning her attention away from the orbs. "Nice to meet you!"

The Council stared, flabbergasted. As one, they turned their gazes to Councilor Itrix, then to Airo, Kiana, and Zuckeroff, then back to the dragonet, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.