working title

one

A dragonborn stumbled, panting, through the unfamiliar brush at dawn. Hazey eyed from the lack of sleep and shifting sky with the colors just bleak enough even her night vision wasn't much help, she found refuge in a thicket under a large tree with dainty purple flowers dotted amongst its leafy spindles.
As her shakey breathing slowed, she managed out a raspy but triumphant "I lost them."
But in her solitude, the words echoed in her head
I lost them
I lost them
I lost them
What had become of her friends that she had left behind? Everything happened so quickly once they left Assland in that damned wagon.
How had everything gone so awry so fast? They were just supposed to be going to the next town over when that mysterious stranger stopped us asking for help. They mocked me insensitive for suggesting we just leave the poor sod to fend for himself, but look as us now. Did any of us manage to stay together after the horrors of that cursed castle? We had been so close to our destination of Wysteria, but something in that place happened that changed us. Maybe it was the miasma that finally got to everyone after we left the castle gates, or just the reality of what we had endured sank in. But as Ice Cream shouted through tears before the fighting broke out, "I don't care what any of you say! I'm going to finish the mission, even if I have to do it alone!" She barely recognized her own brother Seeth as his fisted hand swung wildly in her direction, first trying to lay a blow and then desperately attempting to grab any part of her and hold her back from taking off at a sprint into the dark shrouded woods. He shouted for her to stay but she never looked back and now here she was; no Seeth, no Lenobia- the spunky archer she had known since childhood, even Slime was gone...it was just her, alone under a tree she didn't recognize on what looked like the outskirts of a soon to be bustling town. She let the subtle hum of morning life lull her to sleep nestled in the safety of her thicket of sticks and leaves, this would not be her first slumber of this comfort but presently the consequences of sleep posed a much more pressing threat.

While awake, she had the luxury of physical distractions like pain, hunger, and running to divert her from the depth of the events of the past week. Had it really only been a week with all that had occurred and violently changed?
But now locked in a viciously needed repose, her subconscious painted bastardized collages of these horrors on repeat.
With her sense of time left back with her physical form Ice Cream suddenly found herself looking down from the height of a two story building on her friends, her town, everyone she had ever known (she must be dreaming shes a dragon again). Her gaze being ripped upwards to lock with the hypnotizing stare of the great white dragon Braxx, his yellow eyes glimmering with what almost looked like hesitation before tearing her scaley maw open with his already bloodied claws and ripped his niece in half, showering the town in her blood as her split body now returning to its natural state lay limp in pieces on the ground.
Panic gripped her body as she thrashed around in her sleep but did not wake.
Surrounded now by a blue fog, she sees nothing but deep sapphire shades, her own hand a mystery even inches from her face. The castle.
As if the last scene were mere child's play, her heartbeat doubled its tempo in anticipation of what was to come.
She felt the heat rise before the colors changed all around, surrounded by flames licking at her from every direction, still no sight of anything but fire she hears Lenobia's piercing scream echo as if it was coming from inside her own head, realizing it was one of sorrow as the uncontrollable fire elemental watched the little dragonborn girl she grew up with burn alive at her own mistaken hands. Watching in the third person as Lenobia now back in her human form sobbed over the pile of ash that had been her closest friend. Shuddering in the now soot covered nightmare castle kitchen that had danced to life just moments before before attacking them.
Had they really come that close to the end back there?
Back in the air again, but no longer a dragon, Ice cream finds herself face to face with the hunched ghost of Slime and simply sobbs as he robotically goes through the motions of their last good moment together before chaos ensued. He gripped her tightly and began to swirl the two around in a sort of frog hop dance akin to the waltz before floating to the ground, cacophonous applause deafening as she leans in to embrace him before he and the hall of dancing ghosts fade as the miasma rolls back in, it's blinding blue having become her most hated sight, her waking and sleeping torment, for with the mist you never know when you are truly out of it. She could still be stuck in that courtyard even now as she lay asleep under a wild Wysteria tree.

Stirring but still not quite able to move, Ice Cream squeezed her scaley eyes open and appreciated the warmth of what could only be assumed as the afternoon sun. Blinking away the dreams as quickly as they had come, she takes an assessment of her surroundings. Noticing it seemed that nothing had found or bothered to disturb her in her slumber, she slowed a bit in her motions. Urgency was not necessary for now. Replenishment was, she reminded herself as her stomach rumbled beneath her torn leather tunic. Taking inventory she was grateful to find she still had her instruments, weapons, and collection of bones, but was devastated to find that she had no gold in her pack and was sharply reminded of the sacrifice they all had made back in town to try and defeat her uncle. It was worth it, she thought. The townspeople were safe. She could find means to barter food other ways.
With that sentiment in mind, she readied herself to begin moving again, this time with an actual direction in mind - towards the noise of the town.

Pulling the latest addition to her instrumental collection around to the front side of her via its leather strap, Ice Cream examined the bass for the first time. It had been fashioned out of a great axe, the likes of which her family seemed to be fond of. A gift to her for vanquishing the wretched Mr.Gno, but it had come at even greater a cost than she could have ever imagined.
Not one for string instruments, she began plucking and thwaping away at strings, trying to make some semblance of an enjoyable note but settled for smacking the body of it in rhythmic taps. Her tried and true was an old wooden triangle after all, given to her by the most special of friends. A tear came to her eye as she thought of him and began trilling out a soft somber song. Perhaps, she thought, she could earn a meal with her music.