Unending Light and Encroaching Shadows II [Talon]

[Hilana Chenzira]

3 Frost, Year 122


[Closed - Talon]

Attuning… like meditation. Vasilei had mentioned that meditation would help her studies. If she wanted to be as effective as possible, she needed an orderly mind, and to find stillness within and without. Do some spring cleaning in her head. But the way he had said it sounded like he thought it would be a difficult venture for a girl like her. But she was able to sit and focus for hours on end. Especially if she was already a bit tired or had gotten through some of that energy that never stopped. Practicing Elementalism had helped with that somewhat; energy that didn’t normally have a regular outlet found one. So apparently that was what she needed to do. Work herself tired and then focus on the earth and meditation. Today was full of revelations, of concepts and practices that Hilana also needed to devote time to, and weirdly, it excited her. She liked being busy. She liked learning. She liked doing things. And rotating and practicing all of them regularly meant she could keep working her brain and using her aether in different ways.

She looked quite surprised as the elemental spheres compressed into lodestones, and all but danced in the air in front of her. She gathered them, holding them like they were fragile treasures in her hands, like eggs that she was concerned of breaking, and bowed low to him. She had trouble in some ways believing that they were really for her. “Gratias, Daemon. I would never sell them. They are a special gift, and I will treasure them always.” They would have to pry them from her cold, dead fingers to even try. Her thumb caressed the stones, and from one of Hayima’el’s saddle bags, she withdrew a smaller pouch and some fabric, wrapping each one up like she was concerned it might scratch or break, and tucked them away. Overkill, perhaps, but the girl was clearly touched by them. She had nothing so strong to gift him in return. Her skills with Elementalism and Alchemy were far below his, and since he was a god, she didn’t think he had much use for things that she could produce to heal or help him… But one thing she could do was make him some teas, perhaps something he could also take with him, and show him and his partner some Vastian hospitality.

She gave him a nod when she was ready, Hayima’el’s colourful reins in her hands, and the python still draped around her shoulders. Tiaz had wound his tail around her upper arm to anchor himself and twisted around, as relaxed anything. Hilana, in the meantime, steeled herself internally. Do not be alarmed, he had said. That meant calmness, and when she was calm, her animals were calm. The camel’s thick lips were on her bare shoulder, and the girl pressed a kiss to his snout, her second hand coming up to rub his jaw as she looked around the giant lodestone that they stood on. The girl had never been through a traversion portal, and she braced herself a bit, her knees bending slightly as if she was preparing herself to hit the ground. Her eyes were larger still than they had been when he had formed the Lyr’calastra, but she just reminded herself to keep on breathing. And it was still intact! Once she straightened herself as Daemon inspected his handiwork, her hand was on Hayima’el’s shoulder. She was not a Sembler, but she knew her camel, and his senses were frozen in fear. “Hayima’el, calm,” she murmured, rubbing his shoulder as she looked up, and then she let out the faintest squeak of a breath.

A dragon.

A DRAGON!

“Oh, Founders,” she whispered as she hung onto Hayima’el’s reins with a white-knuckled grip to prevent him from going anywhere. Tiaz’s tongue flickered, and the black, white, and grey reptile was about as perplexed as he could be, but otherwise wasn’t as bothered as the camel was. This was just… a big cousin, surely. One reptile to another, Tiaz approved, though his tail was still tight around the girl’s bicep. The way Daemon embraced the dragon’s snout was quite touching, and the girl felt her insides twisting up. It reminded her of Arvaelyn and Finn and of Asher and Tala. All the same, Hilana actually sank to her knees on the crystal, still clutching the reins to keep her camel from doing anything stupid, like trying to bolt or kick, and kowtowed to the mountain of scales as Hayima’el turned sideways in the meantime, angling himself perpendicularly to the Vastiana. That wild energy inside of her that had calmed since they had started their Elementalism lessons went free with the girl’s excitement.

Dragons were as elevated as gods. They were worshiped in Solunarium, had been for millennia, just like the Founders of their desert kingdom. Hilana had had her run-in with the Zalkyrians just over a month ago, and that was an experience she would never forget. And as such, that… kind of explained her actions. But as he spoke, she rose up to sit back on her knees, looking up at the Avialae who was even taller than Daemon by a head, it seemed. Now that he was in an Avialae seeming, which…surprised her, she hadn’t known that dragons could take the shape of Avialae… not when she thought they just hid as humans, but the girl was not going to question it. She did not dare. She rose to her feet, pushing back on the camel’s chest with one hand to make him turn around and face them again, and bowed low, sweeping out her colourful skirts with her free hand.

“Good afternoon, Aoren. It is my honour to meet you. Daemon told me that it was you who noticed that I was being hunted by the shadow creatures, and I am grateful to you. Thank you,” Hilana looked up at him, smiling, her eyes wide. She was almost rocking from her heels to her toes, though a look through her aura would reveal that to be that energy as she had to get it back under control from the excitement of meeting such an ancient dragon. The movement soon stopped as she got herself back in check. She didn’t want to embarrass any of them present by letting her Wildness out, not at her first time meeting them. And when she calmed down, Hayima’el would be calm. When he called Daemon a Prince, she wondered if he was referring to his title as Hilana had earlier called him, the Prince of Dragons…or if maybe he was a Prince from where he was from. That wouldn’t have surprised her now; two of her friends had been hidden Princes. Perhaps that was what it was. Still, he had asked her to refer to him as Daemon, and until he said otherwise; Daemon it was.

“I have, yes. He is an amazing teacher,” the girl was bright. “I’ve learned a great deal from him today. He has shown me Scrivening, a Path Pictograph, Lyren’s Cauldron,” she indicated the crystalline lodestone on which they stood. “We have worked on Elementalism and he has taught me about the other Elements beyond Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, and he crystallized lodestones of the last three,” the Vastiana was still utterly delighted, to tell by her tone. “And now this,” she indicated the fact that the whole lodestone had teleported them high up on the cliffs. “And I’ve learned he likes Rose Milk tea. Do you have a favourite type?”

[Talon]

D A E M O N

The more she spoke, the more Daemon could feel his husband’s amusement and delight at this bubbly young woman’s presence grow. Extending a wing to continue covering the nudity of Aoren’s lower half, he reached for one of their packs using his Kinetics. It levitated over to them and he reached inside to withdraw some clothes for his partner. Still listening to Hilana, Aoren dressed himself, his modesty preserved through the clever use of wings.

“I am certain you did learn a great deal. My beloved cannot help himself.” Aoren finished tugging on his boots then righted himself. He laced their fingers together before Aoren brought the back of his hand to his lips.

“Though his life has made him a warrior, he is a teacher at heart.” Aoren lowered their joined hands but did not release them. Daemon looked down at the dirt momentarily, a soft smile touching his lips.

“She has proven to be an attentive student.” He inclined his head toward Hilana.

“Ah. I am afraid I do not have much of a taste for tea. I much prefer a stronger drink.” He chuckled. Daemon simply shook his head with a fond smile.

“Come. You summoned me here because you were hungry. Now let us eat.” Grabbing one of the packs again, Daemon began setting out materials in order to cook. He set up a pot, hung it over a fire pit, and produced some water with a wave of his hand. He then took out a weighty sack and emptied rice into the pot. He crouched down, adding a few spices to the rice so that it would not be bland and then touched the tips of his fingers to a crystal centered in the fire pit. Upon close inspection, it would be noted that there were runic markings etched into the circle of the fire pit. A glyph that, if Hilana took the time to inspect, would impart its purpose in due time as a glyph intended to assist with fire, heating, and cooking. As soon as Daemon touched the crystal, it flared to life with red-orange flames and began hovering just beneath the base of the pot.

“I am not the most skilled chef but I can make something that is certainly edible.” He retrieved some more rations from their pack. A set of five large fish that had been wrapped in what looked to be seaweed. This was followed by a few spices. The fish looked as though they had been caught very recently. He grabbed some stones and arranged them in a line then lay the fish out as though on the surface of grill. Touching his finger to the ground, Daemon drew a symbol in the stones, connecting the makeshift grill array to the fire crystal. Heat traveled along the lines of the pictographs.

Aoren came to stand behind him, arms wrapping around his form. He pressed his wings in closer, shifting them so that his partner could comfortably hug him from behind. They appeared a comfortably domestic couple. Aoren rest his chin upon Daemon’s shoulder, just at the crook of his neck.

“Would you like a space made for you to cook as well, Hilana? It is no trouble.”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana, as much as she might have been tempted and thoroughly appreciated the form of the exposed Avialae beside Daemon, kept her gaze up. She could be respectful of those in committed partnerships, as they seemed to be, considering they called each other husband. The Vastiana, while certainly no stranger to casual and polyamorous relationships, she knew where to draw the line. She wasn’t quite at the level of familiarity with Daemon and his partner, and she wasn’t about to be impolite. Even if Aoren, like Daemon, was so easy on the eyes. There was definitely something about Avialae that ticked the right boxes.

“He does very well as both. Some of my best teachers have been the ones I least expected,” the girl smiled at them. “I’ve not had much experience in a formal school setting, to be honest, but I like it better this way. Daemon made it very easy to understand and he’s very hands-on, which is how I’ve always learned best,” Hilana admitted. The camel was calming down now that there was no longer a living mountain of scale and muscle by them, and Hilana rubbed his shoulder before draping the reins over the carved bar-like handle at the front of the piebald bull’s saddle. “Behave, Hayima’el. He is good people, just like Daemon,” she told her mount, giving him a final pat.

“Oh, not a fan of tea? I have mead,” Hilana offered brightly, reaching into the saddlebags and pulling out three glass bottles. “My mentor makes it. I have blackberry, peach, and apple.” The contents of the bottles varied by colour, but it was easy to see which was which. The blackberry was a deep burgundy-purple, the peach was more of a pale gold, and the apple was almost completely clear. She closed the distance between them to offer them to the redheaded Avialae, as Daemon started cooking. Hayima’el had followed her, and he was checking the Dragon out, sniffing at him and blowing air a bit, but he didn’t seem threatening, and Hilana was watching him. “This is Hayima'el. He’s just getting your scent,” she explained. “You can blow at him a bit too, that's how they introduce themselves to others. And this is Tiaz," she smiled at her snake. Her impromptu paedagogus was tall, but his amatus was even taller. But that didn’t seem to bother her, and the python stretched his head out along her arm, his tongue flickering as he took in his scent.

The Vastiana did check over the pot with interest. “We used something similar to this when we traveled,” she commented. “Pots and pans, sometimes, depending on the route we went, but we definitely had a portable clay oven with similar glyphs. I used to use it often,” she was smiling at the memory. She missed those days sometimes, but the pack that she had here now more than made up for it, after all. Her nose told her what Daemon was putting on the rice. “Did you want help with the butchering?” she offered when he brought the fish out. She liked to be helpful, and when she saw the ease at which he just drew a new Glyph and channeled heat to it...

She definitely needed to go back to the chapter on Scrivening and get to work on it. She was fascinated, and it showed on her face.

But when he offered her space to cook, the girl shook her head with a smile. “Everything I have is already done,” she assured them. “I made it up this morning before I headed out.” But she would get it out when they were also ready, and let them get a taste for some of the traditional Vastian flavours. Hibiscus iced tea, pitas stuffed with roasted chicken, lettuce, onions, tomato and tzatziki, roasted chickpeas, falafels, tomato and cucumber salad... when she packed for other people, Hilana had a tendency to go all out. And she was more than happy to share with the Peregrini.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

“Mead?” Aoren perked up at the mention of it, receiving a fond eye roll from Daemon. “Blackberry sounds absolutely heavenly.”

Aoren eyed the camel as he stepped forward. He looked puzzled for a moment before cautiously blowing at the bull. It was a strange sight and the raven winged man did not at all look comfortable doing it. Upon being shown the snake however, he smiled. Gently, he reached out and touched the tips of his fingers to the top of Tiaz head, giving the snake several soft pets. Clearly there was something to be said for the kinship between them. The fires in Aoren’s eyes burned softer as he regarded the snake.

“You have noble companions.” Aoren nodded before taking a seat. His wings spread out comfortably around him.

“They are already butchered.” Daemon lifted some of the seaweed that was wrapped around one of the fish. Their innards had been gutted and they had been largely deboned. “We caught them this morning. Preservation and travel is not very difficult when you have the power to be most anywhere in the blink of an eye.”

He gave the young woman a smile. Aoren, meanwhile, was watching the food longingly. Clearly he was an enjoyer of a good meal.

“If you stare any harder, sorumeito, you will bore a hole through my skull.” Daemon spoke over his shoulder as he tended to the cooking. He took out a pouch of mixed spices of dried basil leaves, tomato, and powdered onion and began rubbing them over the fish and seaweed. He clearly did not mind the heat as he was able to handle them without any difficulty.

“Lessons need not cease while we wait. Do you have questions, Hilana?” Daemon looked up from his cooking. “Even if it is not about magic. You have shared of yourself with us. I am inclined to do the same.”

He gave her a smile. Aoren propped his chin in one of his hands, staring fondly at his partner.

“You got him in the mood to teach.” Daemon picked up a small apple from their bag and threw it at Aoren. Without missing a beat, the dragon caught it then took a bite.

[Hilana Chenzira]

When Aoren professed a preference for the blackberry mead, blackberry it was. “This one is one of my favourites. He’s working on one with tart cherries, too, and it would curl your toes, but he’s still finding the balance,” Hilana was cheerful as she gave him the bottle to enjoy. “I like it as it is, though.” Hayima’el accepted Aoren’s scent, recognizing Daemon’s on him, and he was content to go and check out this new location in the mountains, including what scrubby browse he could find until it was time to eat. Hilana had cactus paddles and acacia for him, and she would share the gathered prickly pears with these Avialae. It kind of struck her that she had seen Daemon before, with Dominus Æros and later with Finn and Arvaelyn in the Arena at the Jubilee. But she would leave that mention alone for now.

Tiaz’ head pressed against Aoren’s fingers, as if he was enjoying the contact. The compliment pleased the girl, though. “I thank you. I’ve had Hayima’el since he was born; his mother is my first camel, though she had to stay with the herd in Tertium. My father wouldn’t allow me to bring her as well when I came to the Capital, and she’s truthfully happier amongst the cows there. Plus Hayima’el is bigger and can go a little more... and I need to work on his racing,” she seemed wry as she looked at her camel over her shoulder. “Those shadowy beasts are not helping in that regard. At all. Tiaz I got shortly after he hatched from a trader, and since I was traveled all the time... he’s always been with me or on me, so he’s used to meeting new people,” she explained. Chances were that for whatever the girl was doing in the city, she was well-used to being outside of it... if not for these shadowy beasts that rightfully saw her as an easy target.

When Aoren took a seat, Hilana did as well, pulling over her large cyprus branch that she had brought with them. She was careful not to disturb the arrays or be clumsy with it, but she could also start stripping it down. She’d needed the needle-like leaves and bark anyway, and she could find a good use for the remains of the sturdy branch. Even if it was to practice Scrivening on... though she well-remembered Raithen’s ability with his polearm, and Phocion’s as well. That might be an idea, once she had enough ability with alchemy to treat the branch to protect it... She nodded as Daemon showed her that the fish had already been butchered. “Oh, okay,” she was cheerful, watching what he added to the meal that he was preparing, but she looked approving as he was spicing things up. That was likely the Vastii in her, but the use of herbs and spices pleased the botanist quite a bit.

But when the floor was opened to further questions, Daemon likely knew that the girl had plenty more for both of them. Hilana just had to gauge between what was too inappropriate to ask, and what was acceptable. “Is sorumeito a term of endearment from Kalzasi?” she inquired. She was a bit more closer on the pronunciation than she had been with her first attempt with ‘koruhane’, but she was still going to have to work on it a time or two. “Like our amatus?” But when Daemon tossed the apple at Aoren and he crunched it, the girl started to chuckle, clearly amused at the ease between the two of them. “Will you tell me a bit more about Kalzasi?” The girl, at least, used the proper pronunciation for their homeland compared to most of her fellow citizens, who tended to drop the L. But Hilana, at least, was disinclined to risk disrespecting them by saying it in a way that was wrong to them. “Is there often snow there? A lot of mountains? Does it make it harder for you to be in this heat? Or are you enjoying it?” Her Avialae friend tended to overheat, but the cold didn’t bother him at all. That she understood from her studies on medicine and anatomy and bodies of other races beyond her own, plus her personal experience with Raithen and exploring his body from dusk until dawn...

“Can you take on any shape as a Dragon?” Hilana queried Aoren, too. “Beyond Avialae? Could you perhaps make yourself look like an Elf if you wanted to?”

[Talon]

D A E M O N

As soon as he was handed the bottle, Daemon reached into their travel back and withdrew some cups. He handed them to his partner who eagerly accepted them. Aoren poured some of the blackberry mead into one of the cups, poured some for Hilana and then for Daemon. He then picked up his cup and took a sip to taste. He immediately groaned in pleasure and took a deeper drink.

“Do not encourage him, Hilana. I have a hard enough time getting him away from the tavern as it is.” There was naught but fond humor in Daemon’s voice. “Pretty soon he will be a tankard-swinging drunk.”

“As if you do not enjoy your brother’s tavern as much as I do.” While outwardly it was not easy to imagine the impressive figure of Aoren lost at the bottom of a tankard of ale or goblet of wine, Talon knew the temptation was there at times. Between the both of them, they had seen enough darkness in this world to last several lifetimes. Over the past few weeks, the two of them had been working to recover from the trauma inflicted on them by the Imperium. Aoren had been tortured to the brink of his sanity, ultimately crumbling beneath their efforts and being forced back into a Kathar collar. That moment, more than any other, had scarred Daemon. The image of Aoren broken and beaten down to the point where he had been forced back into the very thing he hated most had been what made his own resolve finally crumble. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have been able to endure much longer absent of that. Even then, he had still held out to the point where the empire had been forced to resort to a drastic alternative to finally break him.

The two of them shared a quiet moment of recognition in each other. Both of them sensing the direction their thoughts were going. Aoren took another sip of the mead and a bite of his apple. Daemon turned his attention to Hilana.

“In the common tongue, it means, “heart of my soul”. The common phrase would be a soulmate.” In all the world there were only two people to whom he had applied that term to.

“Kalzasi is a beautiful place. In the Northlands of Karnor we are the nation most devoted to the free use of magic. We do not use it in quite the same way that Solunarium does but magic is vital to our everyday life. It provides many conveniences and safeguards us from many of the dangers inherent in our greatest resources; the Warrens.” He pondered a moment on how to explain the Warrens to Hilana as he tended to the pot that was now rising to a boil over the flame crystal.

“We live beside the Astralar Mountains, called the Ebony Skymountains. They are obsidian peaks that jut out from the earth like a volcanic spine, with many of them floating in the air. We built portions of the city on those floating rock formations. Kalzasi is a very avian city. There are many sky-walkways, lifts, and methods of flying throughout the city for those who do not have wings. These help when threats from the Warrens rise up and need to be dealt with. It is often cold there and when winter comes, snowfall is heavy enough to render most land-based travel inoperable.” That provided him the segue he needed to perhaps explain the dichotomy of the Warrens themselves.

“Kalzasi is built upon what we call the Warrens. It is a labyrinthine underground…place. Some believe the Warrens to be another plane of existence entirely. There is merit to that thinking in the way they work and present themselves. Divided into five known layers, the first is called the Buried Empire. A lost civilization with origins that are unknown. What is left is an endless horde of nightmarish abominations that sometimes looks something close to human. Most of the time they are just monsters.” He would never forget the first time he encountered one of the Gravebound of the Buried Empire. It had appeared as what he had initially thought was a human man from behind. As soon as the thing had turned around, however, it had been anything but human. Too many joints. A mouth with too many teeth and a torso that was alive with hunger.

“The second layer is called the Otherwilds. Of all the layers of the Warrens, this one is the most magical. A garden of elemental majesty filled with wildlife, plants, minerals, and things that cannot be found anywhere else on Ransera. Many elementalists, alchemists, and scholars spend weeks exploring the Otherwilds and always manage to find something new.” The second deep of the Warrens was one of the more peaceful ones if such a term could be applied to the Warrens in general. The dangers there were rooted more in the flora and fauna to be found as opposed to the nightmarish monsters roaming the others layers.

“The third deep is the Haunted Reaches. It is a ghostly place. You are as liable to live through a nightmare there as you are to be found wandering through a barren wasteland. There is a desert in the Haunted Reaches that has within it the buried remains of another lost civilization. The architecture is…similar to the Luxium. Whether there is a connection there, no one knows.” He had spent perhaps more time than he cared to recount in the Third Deep of the Warrens. It was a place that tested the mind and the resolve of one’s spirit. Perhaps it was because of this exposure to the Haunted Reaches that he had managed to hold out against the Imperium for so long.

“I have never been to the Fourth Deep. One of my cousins has. I can count on one hand the amount of people who have survived it in the history that Kalzasi has known of it. It is said to be a place of mechanical wonder and terror. Some believe it was built by the Clockwork Empire or perhaps influenced by them. As for the Fifth Deep, we only know it exists because there is a single mention of it in records discovered in the Buried Empire. An expedition that never returned. If there is an entrance to it, we have never found it. I shudder to think what we would find there.” He shook his head. Most Synnekar were educated in the mythology surrounding the Warrens as it was their sacred task to guard against them and guard those who went into them.

“For all of its dangers however, the Warrens has many resources that continue to benefit us.” It was a balance that some called the Blood Tithe. In exchange for providing bountiful resources to Kalzasi, the Warrens demanded death and bloodshed within its boundaries. It received that and more over the years making the Warrens both a curse and a blessing.

“We are both elementalists of advanced skill. The heat of the desert, the cold of the northern tundra, the humidity of the wetlands, none of those things bother us in particular.” Aoren answered her question regarding how they adapted to climates. At her question regarding his ability to shapeshift, he shook his head.

“I…am only recently awoken to my true nature as a dragon. It is a long story but before a year ago, I didn’t even know I was a dragon. Let alone that I had the ability to shapeshift.” There was no getting around that. He was still very ignorant of everything he could do as a dragon. He had no grasp on the depth of just how much of a dragon he was. In his mind, he still saw himself mostly as a Kathar Avialae who had lived in service to the Imperium, then who had escaped and found love and meaning in Kalzasi. There were moments when he found it incredibly difficult to reconcile the two versions of himself in his head. It was getting easier but it would still be a long road ahead.

[Hilana Chenzira]

“Gratias,” Hilana took the cup when it was offered. “To new friends,” she raised it to the two Avialae, smiling at them. But the way they talked to each other made her chuckle, sipping the blackberry mead happily. It was a strong drink as meads went; Vasilei tended to like them to have a kick that came on later, but pleasant to down all the same. But with that quiet moment of introspection, the girl did not dare ask about it once it had passed. That was between them, and none of her business. Curious though she may have been, some things weren’t hers to know. It was just the way things were. But as Daemon translated for her, she nodded. “Sorumeito… Beyond Amatus, then,” she decided. She would put it in the back of her mind for later. “What language is that? Synnekar?” She wasn’t certain, but Daemon and Aoren were certainly accommodating to her perhaps ignorant questions, so she would certainly take advantage of it.

The cypress branch and knife in her hands were forgotten as the white-haired paedagogus went into more detail than she could have hoped for. She listened with abject fascination, nodding along with visible delight to hear about it. While most Vastii - and Re’hyaeans - seemed quite closed off to most outside of their own kingdom, the colourful Vastiana sitting there was different indeed. She loved hearing about different places, knowing she likely would never make any such trips to them, but she could imagine them and look them up. Beside the Astralar Mountains, in the Ebony Skymountains… all of this she sought to commit to memory, not wanting to lose any of it. She would have to check Vasilei’s great books again, and see where they were once more. She remembered seeing pictures of his maps within the books, and she was sure she knew where these places were to see them…

The Warrens. Resourceful, yet dangerous. Hilana had to remind herself to blink when she realized she was absolutely staring as she listened. She wondered how treacherous such places might be in the winter for one that didn’t have wings, or magic to save themselves from a nasty fall. “Are the deeps stacked on top of one another? So you must proceed through one to get to the next layer?” The Vastiana was curious, and Tiaz’s tongue flickered at the scent of cooking fish. Fish wasn’t his thing, and he didn’t eat it, but meat was meat. “Or are there different entrances to the layers that can be accessed without going through the others?”

The first one sounded harrowing, but she was already expecting harrowing depending on her quest. Hilana couldn’t in all honesty say that she had come across undead except for perhaps one vampire, and Dreyfus had been fine once she had gotten to chat with him over dinner. That was assuming that the monsters of the Buried Empire were in fact undead. Maybe they weren’t and were just horrors? She didn’t know. That was something she would have to find out. “Are the monsters of the Buried Empire undead? Or just…mutated?” The girl was deeply curious, looking from one to the other.

At the mention of the Otherwilds and all kinds of flora and fauna in there, her eyes got bigger, this time with delight. That certainly sounded like a fun adventure. Dangerous, but a fun adventure. The soul afraid of dying never learned to live. She brightened for a moment. “That is where the Fae come from, yes?” Dominus Æros’ father was of the Winter Fae, and she was certain that that was what he had said about them… touched by the Otherwilds. “Have you found any exciting plants in there?”

The Haunting Reaches, with the talk of deserts, and architecture like one found in the Luxium. She did have to wonder if they might somehow be connected, her lips pursing. Still, a desert… Hn. “The Umbrium… much of the city was already there once they started excavating it. Like the temples and the statues by it,” Hilana offered. If you’ve the time and the opportunity, you might visit down there and see if it is more of the same.” She wasn’t a student of history of the cities, but she knew that much. “So perhaps they are connected…somehow. That certainly is a mystery.” Somehow they were related. And so it seemed was the Fourth Deep, to something else entirely. That did lend credence to the theory that they might in fact be connected, somehow. Because otherwise how did such a magical place contain similar structures to the city in which she now resided in, and yet another layer of it was influenced by somewhere in the far northeast. While Hilana liked getting into things, she couldn't have any idea of just what she was interested in getting into, and that could be a brutal lesson.

As Aoren explained that both of them were skilled elementalists, she nodded in understanding. That did make sense, especially since Aoren was also a dragon, and from her experience in the Thalamum Draconum, they got along with that heat just fine. She had a realization then: she was going to need to be able to manage the volcanic heat herself, so maybe they had some methods that she could start working towards, too. “Do you have a particular method for doing that? May I ask what element you are Arche to?” She was curious if his element was the same as his husband’s, especially with his red hair and his other nature. Or if, perhaps, it was something else. But when he said that learning what he was was in fact a long story... Hilana could only imagine. Her first thought was to consider the possibility of approaching one of the Zalkyrian Dynasty, and then she had remembered the way the Crownwyrm had said Arcas’ name when she had delivered the message from the Founders to them on her birthday. That... would not have been particularly smart. But Arcas and Raxen were old allies, surely, and there were any number of Ecithian dragons still out there. That did of course mean dealing with the Orcani... She also didn't want to give the appearance of urging them to quit the desert kingdom. She was enjoying their company, and if the Founders disapproved of their being here, then something would have been done about it. Therefore, they were apparently welcome and it would have been rude to suggest the head to the west.

“That has to be very difficult. Do you find it freeing now that you know that you are a dragon? You could perhaps visit the Museum Draconum?” she offered. “It is educational and you might learn some more about that side of yourself.” Her fingers touched the bark of the cypress branch, like she was debating suggesting something. “Otherwise... I don’t know how safe it would be to talk to one of the Zalkyrian Dynasty, so I am hesitant to recommend that. I do remember seeing Daemon talking with Arvaelyn and Finn at the Jubilee, so they might be able to put in words for you, but I... I don’t know what transpired at Kaladon, and I wouldn’t want to suggest anything that might put you in harm’s way.” Even if Daemon was a god that seemed to be on good terms with the Crownwyrm’s heir and his amatus, and Aoren was a colossal red dragon... she didn’t think it was wise to ever feel completely safe with ancient beings who were fully capable of holding grudges. That she didn't use Arvaelyn's title suggested some level of familiarity with the two of them, at least.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

“Synskrit. That is the language of the Synnekar. Kathalan is the language of the Kathar and the Imperium.” Daemon finished tending to the fish, seeing that they had cooked all the way through. He checked on the rice in the pot and seeing that there was still some time needed before the rice was finished cooking, he sat back in order to observe Hilana and Aoren more directly.

“No. At least, not in the way one might expect. The Warrens are underground. That is about the extent of the logic to their arrangement.” He shrugged his shoulders. He had spent enough time down in the Warrens both helping the Sky Guard and on his own to have long ago accepted that they were a place that obeyed their own logic with regard to their structure.

“There are some landmarks that remain constant. Places that, when you find them, remain the same, such as the Library of Skulls, the Black Mirror, the Sanctum of Moans.” Aoren coughed on his sip of mead at the mention of that last one. A blush crept across his face and he cleared his throat. Daemon smirked.

“The rest of the Warrens shifts periodically. There is only one known permanent entrance. The Yawning Chasm. It has a fortress built around it that is manned at all times. Beyond that, entrances and exits to the Warrens open and close all the time.” He glanced over to the pot of rice. Steam was rising from it and it was bubbling nicely. He guessed that it would only be a few more minutes before the meal was ready. At Hilana’s question about the monsters of the Buried Empire, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Noone knows. The Circle of Spells and House Briathos of Kalzasi have studied them for generations. Each study sees different results. Undead. Natural. Twisted spirits. An amalgamation of all three. The general consensus is to accept the creatures for what they appear to be and deal with them accordingly.” Aoren leaned over and offered him a cup of the blackberry mead which he accepted. He took a sip, savoring the rich flavor. His husband took up a post behind him, brushing his fingers over the arm of one of his wings. Wordlessly, Daemon extended the wing so that Aoren could begin running his fingers through the feathers gently. Small bits of dirt and stray pieces of wild grass were picked from the plumage.

“The Fae come from the Everwilds. I have never been there but there are families of Fae that have settled into the Otherwilds. Some say it reminds them of the home they lost or cannot remember. Something about the place resonates with them.” The two of them listened as Hilana posed her question about elementalism. Aoren answered promptly.

“We are both kin to Fire. I suspect it is because I am a dragon. Daemon is the God of Light and is closely associated with the Dawn. Then again, he is just generally warm at heart.” Daemon smiled as his husband carded his fingers through his hair. He turned his head in order to brush his lips over those fingers before relaxing once more. At the mention of the museum and other things, he found himself more interested than perhaps Aoren was. He could feel Aoren’s hesitation. The entire situation was unsettling for his partner and he felt for him. It was not every day that one discovered that there was more to them than they ever would have thought. He remembered quite well how unmoored he had felt when his ascension had taken place.

“Thank you, Hilana. Those are excellent suggestions. We will approach them in time.” Reaching up, he caught one of Aoren’s hands and gave it a squeeze. Aoren had gone slightly stiff as he considered some of the knowledge that might be uncovered. Some of that knowledge would inevitably be linked to the Imperium and everything it had done to him. It would be a slow and eye-opening process, to say the least.

“Do you know Arvaelyn and Finn?” Daemon quirked his head. When the rice started bubbling more aggressively, he moved to check on it.

[Hilana Chenzira]

“Synskrit and Kathalan,” Hilana echoed with a nod. The Imperium. Gel’Grandal. With the Fest Der Schildkröte! That made her perk up even more, sparking more curiosity. She’d have to ask Daemon if he knew about the Festival. He seemed quite well-traveled and he was a god. Perhaps he knew more about it, because the warrior-scholar was not lacking on any subject that had come up so far. But she listened attentively as Daemon explained what he could about the Warrens. This sounded endlessly complicated and like something that would take several years, If not a whole lifetime, to figure out. She would have to table that thought about one day exploring the deserts of the Third Deep for some time yet. The more he talked about it, the more Hilana was convinced that they were right. This was another world entirely. And while she may have had aspirations of visiting the other elemental planes in good time… the Warrens were even less for the faint of heart. Not that she considered herself to be faint of heart, but she wasn’t as stupid and suicidal as some considered her to be.

She nodded as he explained between Everwilds and Otherwilds. That was interesting indeed, and if there was one Hilana would want to visit one day, it was likely that one. But that would be a very long way off. As he mentioned the places that seemed stationary, and Aoren coughed and then cleared his throat, the Vastiana could well guess what the ‘Sanctum of Moans’ was when there was a faint blush on his face. But maybe she was off entirely; it was hard to know with a place that defied logic as much as it seemed to. But the way the red dragon reacted suggested she was probably right around that way of thought.

She smiled as Aoren started preening Daemon’s wings, and that made her think of her Raithen. He was overdue for that, too, really… she would have to catch him the next time he was in town so that she could groom his wings and oil his feathers for him. That was a meditation of itself for her, and good practice for calming down and finding the quiet that was under the nonstop energy that she had. One of the few activities that she could sit still with, but perhaps that was because her energy went so well with her own Avialae lover’s, and when she groomed his wings and he became a puddle of bliss, it was easy for her, too.

When Aoren explained that they were both kin to fire, that made full sense. It didn’t necessarily help her with her own project, what with her needing to be able to mitigate the heat of the volcano on her own without Prince Phocion’s ability to blend Kinetics and Elementalism. But if she had needed the first to accomplish the task, His Divine Radiance surely would have done it that way. She supposed that left her having to become Arche to fire as well. ‘Friend to flame’… but perhaps it was just increasing her skills, relationships and standing with the elements. Some part of her balked on principle because of Athalia…. but perhaps that was her pettiness talking. “The Crownwyrm told me I needed to become a friend to flame,” she decided to explain a bit about her task. “When I was last in the Dragon Chamber, I had an escort that was able to blend Kinetics and Elementalism to create a field around us where the temperature was much cooler. But I am expected on my own next time…. Which is why I wondered if there was some secret or spell to use to work with the excessive temperatures.... Or if it is just something that will come in time as I keep studying and learning.”

She nodded, seeing Aoren’s reaction and the way Daemon squeezed his hand. “I apologize if I overstepped,” she told them, inclining her head. “I sometimes think too much and say too much when I shouldn’t.” Khyan had told her off before about unsolicited advice, and that probably would have been smart to remember here, too. “But I do, yes. They are good friends of mine… and Finn is my student. He wanted to learn about Solunarium, a bit about my people and our culture... from someone who isn’t, well, noble or royal. About the Sands and how to survive in them, how to navigate when every dune looks the same, what’s safe to eat and what isn’t, and so on,” she offered.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

“The elements will soften their aggression toward an elementalist as your communion with them grows stronger. Even if you are not kin to fire, it will still burn more softly for you once you have progressed to a certain point.” Aoren reached out and tugged at him once he was done checking on the rice, clearly wanting his weight back against his body. When he did not lean back into Aoren immediately, his husband tugged more insistently. He could practically see the moue of need on his dragon’s face. Daemon chuckled softly, lowering the heat on the cooking fish with a brush of his fingers over the stones so as not to make them inedible. Just a few more minutes and the food would be ready. He relented finally and returned to sitting between Aoren’s legs. His husband wrapped his arms around his torso and pulled him more firmly against his body, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Comfortable?” He reached up, threading his fingers through Aoren’s hair. The dragon gave a content grunt. Daemon shook his head with a fond smile. He looked to Hilana.

“If you lack sufficient mastery in elementalism, you could compound its effects using elemental lodestones and scrivening. A proper glyph imbued with the cooling properties of water, combined with water stones could perhaps provide sufficient protection.” He did not know if Hilana possessed the sufficient skills necessary to pull something like that off but it was worth the suggestion.

“I could teach you the necessary schematics to form the pictographs.” Whether or not they would prove useful for her for this particular errand he did not know. However, such knowledge could certainly be used to protect her and hone her craft in other ways. When she spoke on Arvaelyn and Finn, he listened, quirking a brow at the mention of Finn being her student. He smiled. That was very like Finn and he was glad that he had found someone like Hilana to be a teacher for him. She seemed to be perfectly suited to his inquisitive mind.

“If ever you have the time and energy and would not mind accepting another student, I have been wanting to learn more about the culture of Solunarium. Especially the language. I have picked up some of it but most of it still eludes me.” He was thankful for the investment into the enchanted earring that he possessed. It certainly made translating and communicating easier but he did not want to have to rely on it forever. His eyes drifted over to the rice which seemed to be finished. He leaned forward, Aoren releasing him just enough to tend to the food. Satisfied with the state of it, Daemon began doling it out in simple bowls.