The Affairs of Dragons

[Pharaoh]

The Affairs of Dragons
61 Ash, 122 Steel
Outside Vigilia Argenti Prætorium

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"Why am I more nervous about this pilgrimage than the last?" Phocion mused, as he gazed across the empty expanse between the Prætorium of their order and the gaping entrance to the Dragon Chamber.

"It stands to reason, I think." Cithæra offered, though her tone was more pragmatic than consoling. "You spent your life studying our Radiant scripture... the Living Word of the Founders. The Zalkyrians have ever been more... reticent."

"Reticent is an understatement." Phocion frowned.

"By definition." Cithæra quipped, before turning her attention to her younger son. "And how are you feeling, Arvælyn?"

"Achy." He knitted his brow, eyes blurry as he looked across to their destination. "Anxious, as well, but not much more than usual. Perhaps less." It was hard to focus on mental woes amidst the onslaught of the physical, after all. Into his hazy focus a figure appeared- indistinguishable at first.

"Hilana." Naturally Cithæra, with her Sembling sight, would recognise the figure first- Though she wasn't so far off as Arry's current perception made her appear to him. As the Vastiana approached, she would find the three scions of Phædryn dressed in simple, sentinel black uniforms with their silver buttons and chain accents. Arvælyn appeared a bit pallid with bloodshot eyes, but the others appeared as hale as she'd left them the prior day.

"Ah good." Phocion contrived to smirk through his nerves, "No mammoth livestock companions at your back, so I see you heeded our advice." On the prior day's pilgrimage, he'd been tickled to hear the Vastiana's immediate impulse was to bring a tribute to the dragons upon entering their sanctum. In the dim grey of this Umbrian morning, however, the reality would not have been quite so amusing. Moreover, it would have likely drawn more attention than any of them coveted just now.

"If all goes well, this will be the first time in our epoch that a human has entered the Thalamum Draconum and lived to tell the tale." Cithæra observed.

"And if all goes poorly, the old traditions are upheld." Phocion added, wryly. The truth of the matter was, this entrance was typically reserved for subjects of Lex Agni whose mode of execution was draconic in nature.

"Indeed." The High Sentinel pursed her lips. "Let us walk." She offered her arm to Arvælyn, who leaned upon it heavily as they started off upon their easterly course toward the chamber entrance.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Happy Birthday to her!

Hilana felt like herself again now that the threshold sickness had passed. She, despite the looming threat of what was coming, had her energy back and more... albeit some of that was nerves. She had given Hayima’el a good, thorough brushing at dawn in order to steady and centre herself, and burn off some of that energy lest she make herself prone to some mistakes. The Founders may have been in something of a forgiving mood yesterday. The Zalkyrians? Almost certainly less so.

Vasilei had made up what she had needed to help ride through the rest of her threshold sickness. The mask had helped suppress the effects, and that meant she had worn it back to the shop in order to keep herself together until she got to what was one of the closest things she had to safety in this city. His Divine Radiance had been right when he had predicted it might go hard, and her mentor attributed it to the fact that it was her first Rune, and that she was nearly 22. Sometimes it just went harder. The next one might be easier; there was no knowing and no telling until it happened.

But when the Princess and her eldest son had discouraged her from hauling Finn or another Mesmer out to bring one of the giant river bison in, the girl had chosen to heed their advice. Inasmuch as she thought it was a good idea, avoiding extra attention right now was paramount. She needed to keep things quiet, and to herself. Discretion was important; and truth be told, Hilana didn’t want to mess this up for any of them. She had hit the Forum instead to go shopping and find something else for the dragons, and her prizes were wrapped away in her ever-present rucksack, each secured in its cloth. She had replenished her medical supplies to replace the vials used the day before, though as far as Hilana knew, no amount of star thistle draught was going to bring you back from being eaten or incinerated.

While Cithaera and her sons were dressed in their black and silver uniforms, the girl was back in her more normal attire. The long tiered skirts alternated between black, silver, and gold, though the halter top she wore was black to go with it, for once, instead of the usual linen or white. Her hair was drawn up into her usual large bun, the teeth, beads, and stones were both hidden and peeking within her tresses as she approached the Praetorium. "It hath been many a century since last We did treat with Zalkyrion's brood. We know not what manner of reception thou'rt like to face, but They will know at a glance on Whose behalf thou art come.” She of the Bonds and Binding had said. Still... as terrifying a prospect as this was, it was exciting to her. Her Wildness sang its song in her bones, the persistent rhythm urging her on. There would be a quest, providing she didn’t completely screw this up and get them all turned into appetizers. She came to a stop before them, and bowed low. “Your Serene Highnesses,” she straightened, smiling at them. She was none the worse for wear, it seemed, after receiving a Rune the day before. But the girl was a herbalist, and not much kept her down for too long.

At Phocion’s words, her eyes danced and she inclined her head. “You bade me not to, Dominus, so I did not,” she said solemnly. “But should I get an invitation back, then I can bring them a bison.” She saw Arvaelyn’s face then, and immediately that had her attention, peering at him. All traces of levity were gone, and she pursed her lips, immediately shifting her backpack around to one shoulder so she could open it and pull out one of her restoratives to press it into his hand. That was not how she had left him the day before, and she did not like it. She wanted to touch his face and take his temperature, but in the presence of his mother and his elder brother... it was probably unwise. Questions about when this had kicked in would have to wait until later, as she looked back between Cithaera and Phocion.

The first time in this epoch that a human entered the Thalamum Draconum and lived to tell the tale... Well, those were tall odds, admittedly. The exchange between mother and son was slightly worrying, but Hilana had no intention of backing out. There was too much to chance, too much to do, and she knew at some level this was a test. The soul afraid of dying never learned to live. Her trials to date had been negligible, she knew. The adversity in her father was easily solved through loftier companions than her sire, and beyond that... what struggles had she had? She was in dire need of proving herself. The girl steeled her resolve, bringing her rucksack back into position and over her shoulders, the sealed titanium scroll case secured and wrapped within. She wanted to see the dragons return? Then this was where she could start. There was more that she wanted to say, but she had a feeling it was wiser to just be quiet. Better to be silent and thought a fool than open her mouth and remove all doubt. This might be her best birthday yet, or it might be her last.

Trial by fire might burn... but the scars are neat reminders.

[Arvælyn]

Phocion sniggered a bit at Hilana's insistence. A spot of laughter was a bit of a balm to his nerves.

"When you are visiting under your own auspices, do what you deem wise." The Moonborn prince offered, sounding almost deferential. "In the meanwhile, I trust you've brought the missive from The Founders, Blessed Be Their Names?"

Arvælyn, for his part, smiled wearily to Hilana.

"Don't look at me like that. I've suffered worse than this. I'm sure I'm only acclimating to the Emblem..." He noted, though a furtive glance between Cithæra and Phocion suggested that they might not be entirely in agreement. And, given the fact that Phocion was said to bear the same Varvaran mark, he ought to be the closest thing to an authority that existed in the modern age.

Cithæra glanced down as Hilana offered a vial to Arvælyn, and shook her head.

"Næ, girl. This is no matter for mundane medicine. His condition is another relic of antiquity not broached by we of mortal lifespans in many an age. Arvælyn will travel with you and Phocion into the chamber, there to entreat Their Hallowed Highnesses for their wisdom."

Sheepishly, Arry returned the vial to Hilana and let Cithæra guide him toward the cavernous maw that served as the chamber's entrance. As they walked, the Vigilia Magna briefed them.

"As the heat level nearer Sorokyn's core grows unbearable, Phocion will sculpt a Kinetic field and temper its climate with his Elemental acumen. Do not stray far from him, lest you breach the border of its protections. There is no map known to Man or Elf to serve as guide, but the Zalkyrians will know once you've crossed the threshold into their territory. If they wish to find you, you will be found.

"When it comes to dealing with dragons..." At this point, they'd nearly reached the entrance and Cithæra paused, to face them all. "I have spent the hundred odd years of my life studying these sacred creatures... particularly those which dwelt the sands of Atraxia. What I would urge you to remember in their hallowed presence is that they are ancient, they are lofty and they have ways that are far beyond mortal understanding. Even the Founders defer to Their Hallowed Highnesses in some affairs and ruled, in their time, but for the grace of Zalkyrion's indulgence." She looked to Arvælyn pointedly,

"Be not bold," Then to Phocion, "Be not familiar," Then to Hilana, "Be not presumptuous." She softened her focus to regard them all, handing Arry's arm off to Phocion. "Any questions before you trudge forth?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

That she could get Phocion to snicker was worth it. Laughter really did help break up a bit of tension and nerves, if only to keep them out of their own heads. It was bold of her to hope for a next time, because they could very well tell her to take her leave with her companions and get out, and that would have been the kind way. “I did, Dominus,” she assured him. Likely in the rucksack, then, or else she had really hidden it where no one would think to look…

When Arvaelyn told her not to look at him like that, her eyes narrowed and she all but squinted at him. She didn’t like it at all, and she was going to consult Vasilei and try to figure something out with alchemy, maybe… She flattened her lips, biting them at Cithaera’s words to keep herself quiet, and she nodded respectfully. “I understand, Your Highness.” She understood, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Not one bit. It rankled that one of her best friends was unwell and she couldn’t fix it. She wondered if Finn was also ill, but now was not the time to voice it. That was why Arvaelyn was accompanying them; to see if the dragons would be able to help. So if Finn was also sick, then he likely would be here, but… All the same, Hilana knew to let it go. The Vastiana was glad that Arvaelyn was here, she just wished he was feeling better. Their love of dragons had been something they had bonded over when they had first met, after all. She accepted the vial back from Arry, putting it back with the others, and retrieved the titanium scroll case from where it was hidden in the rucksack. The heavy bundles wrapped in the cloths were kept from knocking into each other by being separated in the compartments, which made her feel a tiny bit better. The bag was closed up again, and as they walked, it settled back in place over her shoulders.

She nodded as Cithaera explained the plan, and she was admittedly quite pleased to see the Prince in action again where she could actually see it when they weren’t being chased by Orcani hordes. The combination of Kinetics and Elementalism would be fascinating to watch, and she half-wondered if he had combined Elementalism with Kinetics when they had gone up the path the day before, only using wind to help supplement the kinetic energy he had used to force everything away from the path so they could climb the Mount… but that was a question for later. She was grateful, too, that they were there. This wasn’t going to be something she was going to manage with no experience or training, but as the Founders had encouraged her to seek their help in the matter, there was no shame in doing so. Besides, with a little bit of luck, she could see how the Moonborn Prince performed it, and keep it in mind for the future.

She was quiet, drinking in Cithaera’s words as she held the sealed case containing the missive from the Founders. Hilana only knew the stories and what there was to be learned from the Museum Draconum. She had seen them in Searing when they had taken to the skies to deal with the Dread Mists, and now they were going into what was definitely a No Man’s Land to deliver something to them. While she looked at each of them in turn as she delivered her warnings, the girl had a feeling all three of them were meant to heed each part. Questions? Too many. With her friends, if she was given an inch of tolerance, they might get a mile of questions. However, this was a Re’hyaean Royal, the head of Phaedryn’s line, and Hilana didn’t want to disrespect or vex her. But she considered if there were any she dared ask. Like when the last Lex Agni was where they were sacrificed to death by dragon… if only to gauge how long it had been since they had eaten. “After the Crownwyrm, is there an appropriate order in which we should address his brothers and sisters if it should come up? Or is it wiser to just play it safe and address them as Their Hallowed Highnesses?"

[Arvælyn]

Cithæra nodded, as if approving of Hilana's query, as she posed her answer.

"I would recommend you wait to be directly addressed before speaking to any of the Zalkyrians, but thereafter it would be meet to refer to them as Hallowed Highnesses, with the exception, of course, of His Exalted Majesty Zalkyriax."

Arvælyn spoke next, posing a question of his own.

"Are we expected, or might this be viewed as an intrusion?"

"Uncertain. The entry points to the Thalamum Draconum are marked and surveilled but not guarded against entry. The Zalkyrians have no need of mortal soldiers to protect their interests. Anyone may venture to trespass into their sanctum, though those who try are wont to never emerge. We don't know what becomes of them. That said, the three of your are outfitted with advantages they lack. One of you carries a missive from the Founders themselves, and two of you bear Their marks. Aværys was present for the hatching of the Crownwyrm, so there is a longstanding kinship between the Divine and Draconic dynasties..." She replied. "I would not send you in, if I thought you would be ill received... Unless it was absolutely necessary." Arvælyn frowned, at the ominous nature of that final caveat.

"Anything else you think we should know?" Phocion wondered aloud.

"I wish I could better prepare you for what to expect within the chamber, but alas... I daren't Semble into the private domain of dragons. Fortuna be with you and godspeed at your back." Cithæra inclined her head, and Phocion turned to his companions.

"Let us proceed. I won't create the heat shield until it's necessary. Hilana, don't be shy about letting me know if the heat grows unbearable. Arvælyn and I are like to be able to withstand higher temperatures, unless his present condition renders him more vulnerable. In which case, Arvælyn, pray speak up." And with that, Phocion bowed to his mother, and took a deep breath before crossing the threshold into the cavernous maw of the Thalamum Draconum's entrance.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana listened intently. As scattered and easily distracted as she was as a child, she had at least outgrown that habit now for the most part. This would very well be a matter of life-or-death. Focus was required. But she nodded in assent. She knew their names from the Museum Draconum, but this advice went hand in hand with the Princess’s earlier warning: be not bold, be not familiar, be not presumptuous. Use the title, never the names, unless told to. And even then, with extreme care and respect. Still, the girl would rather know the best way to try to avoid offending the legends they had grown up with the stories of, especially since there were so few actual known interactions of the ancient dragons and the mortals who lived around them and all but worshiped them. She nodded in thanks rather than interrupt the others; but the words would be well-heeded.

The girl’s eyes only got wider as she listened to Cithaera’s answers to Arvaelyn’s own question, and that sort of answered another one she had wondered about earlier. No humans came back, but did elves? Apparently none who entered here ever returned... and as such, if they did, they would be the first in a very long time. At the mention of the missive, her hold on the scroll case tightened all the more. With luck, those advantages would see them through and out. But when the Princess said that His Divine Radiance was present for Zalkyriax’s hatching, her Symphony got rather loud with excitement of learning something entirely new like that. There was a flash of delight on her face; but she restrained herself from wanting to ask the follow-up questions as she reeled herself back in. They were potentially walking to their deaths here, but at least she would know that, which certainly wasn’t anywhere to be found in the Museum! She just had to have hope that they would come back out... possibly with information about the Dragon Chamber to keep to themselves, too. There was no map, but Hilana wouldn’t mind figuring it out anyway. She liked to know where she was going. Not that it mattered; if they wanted to be found, they would make themselves known.

“Understood, Dominus,” the Vastiana nodded at Phocion’s words. She would keep them in mind. Vastii had their advantages with the heat, but it was surely of no comparison to the Re’hyaeans. No point in trying to torch herself to prove something; the heat of a volcano’s core was far different than even the open sands in the height of Searing with the full sun overhead. “Thank you, Your Highness,” Hilana bowed low to Cithaera as Phocion had, and turned to follow the Moonborn and Sunborn princelings. There was a letter to deliver, a cure for Arvaelyn to be figured out, and a quest to be embarked upon, providing they found them suitable. And in a good mood...

"Do you want me to haul him?" Hilana offered Phocion as they headed in, glancing at Arvaelyn. That way he had both of his hands free when the time came to make the shield. She didn't quite dare to step up to him, as that would be rude, but she was perhaps half a step behind until encouraged otherwise.

[Arvælyn]

Cithæra stood by and watched, as her sons and the portentuous Vastiana embarked on another perilous pilgrimage just a day after their last. She knew far more than she’d let on, but little would greater knowledge serve them. Well did the highest of sentinels know that ignorance was, in some instances, a boon. She was proud and pleased in a cautious sort of way and, though she would not join them on their downward trek, she had other tasks to tend to that were very tied into what they would find below. When the party was out of sight, she turned and made her way to the Temple of Midnight’s Mother to prepare the potent sacrifice that would be required to pay the necessary toll. It was a grim, but pivotal duty.

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Within the cavern, Phocion shrugged the shoulder upon which his young half-elven half-brother was not leaning.

“If it please you both.” The magic was straightforward enough that he needn’t have yielded up his additional function was Arvælyn’s support, but he wasn’t the most comfortable with physical touch in general, so he’d be happy to give the boy over to a more willing shoulder.

Arry nodded, and shifted to Hilana’s side to lean his less than formidable weight against her form.

“Gratias.” He rasped, as they made their way down the sloping corridor. Thus far they certainly didn’t need a map, as the path was a direct one. It was a long and gradual descent, but the savvy traveler would note that they were going quite deep and directly toward the core of the volcano. The heat increased as did the odd rumble or quake. Whether these derived from geothermal or draconic reactions was unclear.

As the air seemed to warp before them, as it had appeared to for Arry this whole time due to his state, Phocion saw fit to engender his thermal shield and keep their immediate pocket of air cool enough to endure. By and by, they reached a fork in the path. To the left was a cavern as large as that down which they’d been treading thus far, and to the right was a far smaller corridor, which might fit a humanoid creature but certainly nothing of draconic mass. Phocion paused for a moment, before starting them down the left path. Hilana would feel Arry’s weight like an anchor, halting her gait.

“Huh?” He inquired, looking askance of both his companions. “Yes.” He replied to no one either of the others could see. “We must take the other route.”

“Arvælyn. That path isn’t large enough to house them with whom we would treat.”

“But I have been summoned there…”

Phocion paused and turned to face them, sighing.

“Brother. You do not understand. Your mind… it is playing tricks on you. Your Runes are working against you. It’s the Mesmer or the Masquerade concocting illusory impulses. It’s akin to a sort of temporary madness, or… Well, at least we hope to see that it is temporary. Thus is the purpose of this trip for you.”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana was happy to do it. It made sense to her anyway: she and the Moonborn Tethered were pretty close to the same size; Hilana knew he was doubtless stronger than she was due to his regular physical training and activity, considering the ability he had displayed yesterday. But at the same time… Phocion was also the strongest and most advanced of their party. The Vastiana’s contribution was acting as a courier for His Divine Radiance and Her Argent Luminescence. She may as well be useful on the way down. “No problem,” she smiled at Arry, getting him situated and her arm going around his midsection to help support him that way. She had him.

Down, down, deeper, and down. Hilana was constantly looking around them, checking the stony walls of the cavern for any signs, scratches, or markings. She could tell that they were headed for Sorokyn’s core, and for the moment, she thought temperature wise she was doing okay. But the deeper they went, the more she was starting to feel the heat. After that third rumble, just as she said “Dominus”, about to ask about that shield, the air was seemingly strange. Thankfully, Phocion brought up the kinetic shield. That was much better. “Gratias, Your Highness,” she bowed her head to the elf.

She was content to follow the Sentinel down towards the larger pathway, but when Arry anchored the two of them, she looked up at him, and then to his brother, quiet as the Prince tried to talk him around. Illusory madness? No wonder mundane medicine wasn’t going to fix him. The only way she might have stood some chance would have been with Alchemy and a lot of studying… but this wasn’t something that was in her ability to fix. And even then, with the considerable resources available for someone of the Princess’s rank and stature… if it could have been fixed by master mages, or even grandmaster mages, it would have.

“Is it possible that with the way the air was just after you made the shield,” Hilana asked Phocion quietly, “that this is somewhat similar to what happened yesterday when we passed through Zalkyrion’s maw to start towards Kaladon? And that’s what he’s hearing now?” Neither of the two of them were perceiving whatever voices the golden princeling was. If his Runes were working against him this way, then she had to wonder what was really wrong. She was even more concerned for her friend after these revelations, looking up at him and squeezing the arm that was around his midsection, her grip tightening on him. “He’s right, Arvaelyn. A dragon won’t fit down there unless they shrunk themselves. You would think that that’s the way convicts would go to try to hide themselves. We stay together and we follow Prince Phocion.” She was not bold enough to lose the title for the senior of their group.

[Arvælyn]

Phocion nodded approvingly at Hilana's vindication of his leadership, and turned back to lead them further into the tunnel, but a voice of thunderous command boomed from the golden half-elf.

"No!" One might have thought it was that of the Crownwyrm himself for how it resonated into Phocion's very soul. Were it not for the wards woven into his uniform, he'd have obeyed instantly and never questioned why. But such as things were, he recognised it for what it was as his eyes darted down to the glowing Cardinal Rune of Mesmer at Arvælyn's wrist. Even so, he paused to face the other two again. A wild, emphatic look blazed in eyes that now roiled like the magma behind the walls of these tunnels.

"It doesn't matter if a dragon could fit through the tunnel!" Arvælyn protested vehemently, "It only matters if a dragon could fit where the tunnel leads. There could be other, larger points of entry we don't know about, and besides... Dragons can assume different shapes that would fit."

This counterpoint gave Phocion pause. The lad may well have been hallucinating and hearing illusory voices, but the case he made was not impractical. That was worthy of note. His mind still seemed to be dwelling in the same world as theirs. He wasn't lost in the Land of Nod or in some far reach of the Ætherium- He was present, even if another presence shared space with him. It was not impossible that he was correct.

Phocion glanced to Hilana, grateful for her support, but now doubtful of his own impulse.

"To be honest, I was basing my decision on little more than a hunch. Arvælyn is correct that the logic I was using is flawed. His guess really is as good as mine, and perhaps better." Phocion bowed, and began to lead them back toward the fork, to take the narrower road. He smirked to Arry as he passed the younger man.

"I defer, brother, to the voices in your head- Be they born of hallucination or divination."

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana’s eyes, which had finally gotten back down to a more normal size since leaving Princess Cithaera at the cavern’s threshold, were enormous once again at the powerful, strange way Arvaelyn had spoken. The forceful command wasn’t aimed at her, at least, but her grip tightened, on both the golden elf and the titanium scroll case. Her eyes searched his face, and she was somehow more worried for and about him than she was about the dragons that she had been sent to deliver the message to. She was ready to say his name, to try to interrupt whatever was going on. But Hilana didn’t understand magic, much less these ancient maladies, or whatever might be behind it. She didn’t understand, she just had to trust the knowledge of those who were more learned than she was.

She was silent as Arvaelyn made his points, looking at him and searching his eyes. They were fair. They could shrink, they could take on other forms. And just earlier, hadn’t he said he had been summoned? And Phocion was talking about the voices in his head. Was something attempting to take him over? Whatever it was, perhaps it knew more than they did. And they were just going to have to figure it out and work on their feet. They could manage that. All the same, Hilana felt a tightening in her insides, and her tongue went over her teeth. She listened to the exchange between the brothers, and she wanted Arvaelyn back to his old self. She wanted the golden elf she could have tea and melopita with, and bring him loukomades and ask for stories about the world beyond her own to be himself again.

She also knew there was no fitting a river bison down the smaller pathway…

She nodded as Phocion explained his reasoning. It was sound enough to her, but there were forces at play beyond sound reasoning. Sometimes…one just had to have faith. And faith was the ability to believe when it was beyond the ability of reason to believe. “If they want to find us, they will. Her Argent Luminescence said that they would know on whose behalf we come.” Hilana was just repeating things that had been told to her at this point, because they came from those who knew more than she did. There was comfort in that. “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will take you there. Worst case scenario, we backtrack if we hit a dead end. We can always come back this way, and try the other path.” She could only assume Phocion’s pool of aether was substantial, and that he had no problems holding the shield. But her restoratives could help with that, if Gods forbid something was needed. But Arry…

If Arvaelyn was ready to move, Hilana would guide the two of them back into position close to Phocion. She didn’t want either of them outside of that kinetic and elemental shield, and she wanted them to stick together. It wouldn’t do for them to become separated, either.