It's only matter of Time...

Her name is Tourniquet

"Tourniquet." Karl murmurs, stroking his little Dragon along her back. She croons and arches, clearly enjoying the affection. "She says her name is Tourniquet." Sitting on his shoulders, he has two fire lizards. One of them is green, small red flecks scattered and hidden across her throat and underbelly. The other one is brown, with shades of amber and silver on his neck and wings. Small, little things that grow to the size of a large parrot, but loyal, fierce companions. After the Hatching, Dream had brought them to a place where the ones left unchosen or unable to fly with a Dragon nestled in the base of the mountain. There, Sam managed to gain a gryphon, and four fire lizards. Everyone else got two or three, and Karl has named his green one Anjax, after the Enderian word the Fire-Lizards are referred to as, and the brown one is Rykk. "After a few hours, your Dragons will tell you their names, which then solidifies the connection between Dragon and Rider. Then, that begins what we call the Tethering, where you grow a close relationship with your Dragon. They won't truly speak to you again, not until this process has progressed by quite a while." Dream explains, walking a few feet ahead of their group. "Is there like, a sort of time frame this happens in?" Punz inquires, and Dream slows his gait momentarily to think. "Sometime between 2 to 3 years." He answers, and Bad glances at the others for a moment. "As much as I love it here, shouldn't we be focused on getting home...?" He asks, the wyvern balancing on his arm, tail loosely coiled around his neck (in case he overbalances) chirruping at him as if agreeing. "Well, yes, but there isn't much we can truly DO to speed that up. Usually, I'm supposed to follow a certain set of events, and when that's all over, THEN I come back home. This is a bit of a special case. For one, it's only ever been me doing the Time Travelling, and it's never been like...this. There's been an underlying issue, a story or theme, if you will, but this is more complex in that I can't wholly figure it out yet. We're guests here, sure, but for the most part, there isn't any big problem." Karl replies, half talking to himself. "If I may cut in, in this time and era, we are at war with the humans, fighting to keep Cinna and the Hybrids safe. Perhaps you have some part in all of that? You have dragons, after all. Clearly, the Will of Ethrys has use for you." Dream offers, moving to look at Karl while he speaks. "You keep mentioning this 'Will of Ethrys' thing. What is it?" Technoblade asks, and while the question is directed at Dream, it's Ranboo who answers him. "Uh, well, Ethrys is supposedly a goddess, according to Enderian legend. The Lady of Light, and credited with making the tie between Enderian language and Elvish magic and spells. Not only that, but it's said that she created Time Magic itself, and linked it to all other magics involved. So the 'Will of Ethrys' is basically just a fancy term for 'Fate' or 'As it's meant to be'." He explains, sounding more sure of himself as he continues the explanation, though still looks very shy and unwilling to look at anyone. "You sure know your history, Enderian. Who taught you?" Dream comments, and the younger hybrid twitches his tail. "I uh, read alot of old stories." He admits, and from everything Karl has come to understand and know of the boy, makes plenty of sense. "That may be useful...we're here, though, so we'll have to talk later." Dream has led them to a set of massive doors, birch wood instead of the dark oak of the library's, with golden patterns of dragons engraved within the surface. The man opens them, and leads them into what is obviously a dining hall. There's a long, spruce table in the middle of the room, a set of slightly grey-tinted windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling, and shroomlights carefully carved and formed into chandeliers to give plenty of light, but still not too much. "It is traditional to hold a feast of sorts after a Hatching, so that the older Nejovik can meet the newer ones, and vice versa. Besides, your dragons--and gryphon--must be hungry." Dream states, and in confirmation, Tourniquet chitters, expressing her empty belly's woes. "Come, sit. The others will arrive shortly."

After about an hour, the other Nejovik come in, the newly hatched dragons and gryphon having been led off to eat, and as the new hybrids come in, Sapnap gets Karl's attention with a light shoulder tap. With no more than a slight shift of the head, the Pyro Elf indicates to a trio walking in. One is a woman, graceful and pretty, with blue scales scattered across her body and golden eyes, pink streaks in her hair. It's this place's Niki, she must be a fish hybrid of some sort. Speaking to her is Wilbur, looking more relaxed and at ease, at least until he spots the group. He scowls slightly, but continues speaking to Niki. The third, however, is a man almost identical to Punz, except he has a scar running up the left side of his face, and his clothes are different, more suiting the themes of clothes here. But regardless, he is clearly human, which is perplexing. From another entrance, the other BadBoyHalo and Skeppy are leading the younger hybrids into the room, the demon-vampire hybrid making motions and figures with his hands, rather than simply speaking. Instead, Skeppy is speaking for him, which is what clues Karl in that this version of Bad must be mute for some reason; he's using sign language. The present(or future?) version of the healer has noticed this too, and watches in confusion. "Why can't I talk?" He wonders quietly, only loud enough for his friends to hear. "He was cornered by a hunting party and rendered mute. His vocal cords were cut, due to their belief he could utter curses and spells. He's lucky to have survived the experience. Now, Skeppy speaks for him." Dream answers, having been walking past them when Bad asked the question. The poor hybrid's eyes widen, a small tremor running through his hands, and a stunned silence forms around the group, though the smell of gunpowder grows a little heavier in the air as Sam tries to keep his anger in check. Hunters are horrible, but they don't do things like THAT. They kill hybrids or sometimes sell them off if they're paid enough. That's practically torture. It's not brought up again throughout the whole meal, some friendly and clearly strained polite conversation made, before Dream gets up and motions for Karl and his friends to follow him. Collecting their Dragons, they are once again led through a series of tunnels and corridors, before reaching a circular entrance to a new cavern, this one bigger and taller, and again lit with shroomlights. The furthest wall has a row of indents, big enough to fit a person, and two divots in the ground with moss and leaves for bigger hybrids. There's also a pool, clearly hand-carved, for any aquatic species if they needed a space to sleep comfortably. "You will have to spend the rest of your night here. Get as much rest as you can, tomorrow, you're going to have to learn how to be a Nejovik." Bidding them farewell, the man leaves, and they set out to decide which beds they want. Ranboo instantly climbs up into one of the higher indents, leaving only some of his tail hanging over the edge. "So...we just not gonna talk about how messed up the Hunters are here?" Techno asks, sitting on the edge of a nearby hovel, his little Marquis sleeping soundly in his arms. "Clearly, they changed in the past...however long it's been from this time to ours. There's far less hybrids in our time than there are now, which might have contributed to this." Sapnap offers, and while he seems calm, the way his eyes have a slight glow betray the anger and distress he's feeling. "I can only use a few Elvish spells. I don't...it doesn't make sense." BadBoyHalo notes, shaking his head. His little wyvern growls, rubbing his cheek with the side of its head comfortingly. "The stereotype for demons is that they can use dark spells and curse people, which is wildly inaccurate. Demons just take advantage of the powers available to them, like Elvish and probably Enderian, and derive from Chaos. They can't create their own spells." Ranboo states, poking his head over the side to contribute to the conversation. "And you're also half-vampire, as is the other you. You're more likely to have shapeshifter powers than spells. Vampire-demon hybrids are also well–known for that." He adds, mostly as an afterthought. "Humans are just arrogant and blind. Most of them." Sam agrees, correcting himself with a glance at Tommy. "Are they really all so...murder-y?" The boy asks. He'd been found by Philza, so Karl had heard, when he was still too young to have been warned about hybrids, and kept safe and hidden for his whole life. He's never spoken to another human being, aside from Punz and Karl. "Hunters were employed out of fear. They took it further, turning it into hate. Most people are just scared, because hybrids are different, and as is a common theme among different cultures and people, they want to either control it and feel safe, or just get rid of it altogether." Punz explains, and Tommy thinks for a moment. "If people are just scared, why don't we just prove you're not dangerous? Show them that they're wrong." Sapnap shrugs. "We could certainly TRY, but I don't know how we would do that. People would either flee, or send hunters after us. At least, I don't think it'd work in THIS time. But we can talk about it back in our time." The Pyro Elf suggests, before yawning and stretching. "I think I'm ready to go to sleep." The comment causes a ripple of agreement, so they decide to continue talking tomorrow. Choosing one of the hollows and crawling in, Karl makes sure Anjax, Rykk, and Tourniquet have enough space to sleep comfortably. Today was a big day, one full of revelations and turns he didn't expect. Tomorrow's bound to be the same. 

He wakes up to a bolt of alarm surging through his head, Tourniquet alert and bristled, while his two fire lizards quietly hum in confusion and anxiety. Groggily rolling over, he jolts back in surprise at Wilbur's face inches from his own. Seeing two blue eyes which slightly illuminate the rest of someone's face is not the most pleasant thing to wake up to. Wilbur brings his hand up to cover Karl's mouth, shushing him. "Don't scream. Get up. Meet me outside the cave in 5 minutes or I will leave you behind." He hisses, then disappears, reappearing out of the shadows of the doorway as he exits. Taking a few moments to calm down his rapid heartbeat, he climbs out of the indent, makes his way out of the cave, followed by his scaly companions. Wilbur is leaning against the wall, slowly lashing the tip of his tail. Tommy's there, too–not the one Karl knows, but the Avian one, with fiery wings and a grey-brown Marquis with fiery orange flecks on the tips of its wings in his arms. He tenses slightly when he sees Karl, but doesn't say anything. "Come on." Wilbur growls, stomping off. The two share a glance before following after the hybrid. A triple hybrid, according to Tommy: Phantom, Avian, and Elytrian. The phantom part is clear, with the long, deep blue tail, sickly skin color, and strange eyes, and the Avian part in his golden-blonde feathers. The Elytrian part is a little harder to distinguish, if you're not aware. According to Dream, Elytrian have a metal aspect about them: Philza's feathers are slightly metallic, allowing him to used his wings as a shield, and for Wilbur, it appears his bones share this metallic appearance. The bones of his wings are visible, another Phantom trait, but they're a dull grey, as well as the spines running down his back and tail, acting as the quills to his tail feathers. In Karl's time, Wilbur never mentioned any of these things, nor the fact he was a hybrid. As far as anyone knew, he was human. Wilbur leads them to the place where just yesterday, everyone was climbing up to ride a dragon, and lets out a shriek, similar to one a phantom would make. The blue Marquis Karl saw him riding during the Hatching lands in front of him, smaller than Crowza and slimmer in stature, but graceful and still beautiful. It mews at Wilbur, lowering its head to muzzle him affectionately. "This is Friend. She is my Dragon, and my closest companion. She's going to help me teach you how to develop the bond with your own Dragons." He states, turning to face Karl and the boy. "And before you get confused, I will make it clear: I am teaching you to ensure you learn correctly. You are human, and I will never fully trust you, but you are a Nejovik now, too, and if you deal with Time Magic and are friends with hybrids, maybe you aren't so bad." He adds, flicking his tail at Karl. Tourniquet, who apparently took it as a threat, sits on her partner's shoulder, spreading her wings and hissing, emulated by the fire lizards. Wilbur hisses back, then turns to Friend. "Come on, time is wasting." He helps Tommy and Karl climb onto the dragon's back, showing them how to hold on correctly, and settles himself in front, then Friend moves, lurching them forward as she dives through one of the big holes in the floor. Karl's fire lizards squawk, forced into the air, while Tourniquet has the advantage of having climbed into his sweater. Friend banks, aiming for the sea, and allowing Karl a view of the city below. Even as early as it is, it's still busy–nocturnal hybrids going to retire for the day, and early risers  heading off to do whatever. There's a massive tree, what looks like a willow tree with cherry blossoms, looming over a side of the mountain, big enough to make into an elaborate home, with multiple levels, and beside it, a lake, deep and dark save for the lights at the bottom, some palace for aquatic hybrids must be there. Soon, though, it is all replaced by water, reflecting the sun as it rises. Karl could get used to this, it's exhilarating and stunning, and makes him all the more curious as to what happened to change all of this so drastically from his own time. After about three hours, they find an island, and land on it. It's a fair size, with cliffs and a forest and overall is quite peaceful, but something feels strange the moment Karl sets foot on the sands. "Do you feel it, Time Traveller?" Wilbur inquires, sliding down beside him. "That is the magic of this place. In Enderian, it's called Iemt Irrevela, but in Elvish, it translates to Time's Irrelevance. Time doesn't function as it would back for the rest of the world, which gives us plenty of time, while wasting no time at all." He explains, helping Tommy down. "There is a hut in the middle of the island. That is where we will stay." Wilbur hauls himself up onto Friend again. "I expect to see you there by sundown." With that, he flies away, leaving the two to fend for themselves with their companions, and no idea where they're going, or what dangers might be waiting for them. 

Seems there would be no introduction, Wilbur's teachings have already begun.