The Dragon of Charred Scales

Charred History

Oculeera

"They had thought the disturbance was just that: a disturbance. Who would attack Hasinji, which has some of the most talented dragons in both spell work and athleticism? Everyone was caught off guard by what was, in essence, a whole clan's worth of Laku," said a swift dragon messenger to the Akbai clan, where Dalquiri brought us the day before, after several tense days of flying at night with Tabal. No one had bothered to tell us exactly where Akbai is, not that it really matters. Hopefully anyone looking to hurt us cannot find us either.

"Many buildings fell, as easily as planting explosives. The resulting implosion killed many dragons, without involving any Turns."

"Why?" Novayar asked.

"The spells hit the structural elements that kept the buildings upright. It is an indirect enough spell that the resulting deaths do not cause a Turn. But fickle as magic can be, this is not always a guarantee." The messenger spoke throughout with a sad tone. He had said earlier that he lost a good friend to the attack, a dragon he almost considered a potential mate.

"It is a warning to us all, that we are not as invincible as we think we are. I must leave soon to further spread the word, but it will not take long for most every dragon in the world to hear of this. I'll carry the word that you two survive and are well, at least physically."

"Is that wise?" I ask. "Shouldn't we not be talked about at all, for our safety?"

"If I say nothing, others may think you are dead. That will hurt just as much as if you did die and would be a surer outcome. Perhaps I am wrong, though," said the messenger.

"Maybe just say we are alive, not where we are, wherever that is," said Novayar.

"I have to say where I have been, so that word can spread to new ears. Others will find out where you could be. Before then, Dalquiri will likely transport you elsewhere."

The messenger left our dwelling, not in any hurry but in a manner that spoke of the end to our conversation. It was not his duty, after all, to chat with us.

"One of these days, we'll be allowed to roam outside of buildings freely, and be able to transform into humans again. We wouldn't be living in fear," said Novayar after a while.

"One day. But not now."

He settled onto the wool mat that was his bed. "It still haunts me, that night."

"Yeah. Not having much to do doesn't help."

"I can remedy that," said Dalquiri, who just stuck her head into the simple rock wall building that we have sheltered in. "Near here, there is a cave with primitive dragon paintings, as well as a newer chamber with a recording of the Joining. Since it is sheltered from eyes, you will be safe there. Would you two like to see it?"

"Yes," I immediately said. I highly doubt this is the cave Anyle made his recording, but it still would be interesting to see what perspective the painter had here.

"Sure," said Novayar. "Will it be difficult to read, though?"

Dalquiri snorted. "Primitive dragons, like primitive humans, drew their ideas. You should have little trouble understanding that."

"Oh."

"And as for the Joining, that chamber is in old Draconian text, which I am fluent. Did you not think strength dragons could be intellectual?"

"No, though spirit dragons are the most likely to pursue academic subjects," I told her.

"True, very true. But I shall be your guide here. The caves are not well known, even to the longtime residents of Akbai, because of a cloaking spell hiding the entrance. This is to help preserve the paintings inside."