Setting
The first room is where the Great Dragon himself sleeps, and where the eggs are kept until they hatch. At the back of this large room, where anyone who wished to enter or exit would have to pass the huge guardian of the Marked, is another door covered with a curtain.
This door leads to a hallway. Though this hallway is not as large as the entrance, it is still big enough for a King's Lizard to squeeze through without difficulty. The hallway branches off into eight different hallways, at the end of each of these is a room spacious enough to house the bondeds.
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Suddenly, the beast's eyes flew open, and he jerked his head up as if someone had prodded him awake. They were coming. They were coming now. He could feel it, a thrumming sense of nowness in the back of his mind and all through his body.
Pulling himself to his feet, he stretched his wide wingspan of over 60 feet, still not touching the walls of the huge room he slept in, and glanced around, slit shaped pupils flickering from one area of the cave to another. The rooms were prepared; he had felt a tiny urging a few days ago that told him it would be soon. Not so soon as this, no, but soon. Curving his neck to glance back at the nest of eggs, he gave a slow, dragonish smile. The eggs were ready; they were always ready.
Now all there was left to do was wait.... And with that thought, he moved to the entrance of his home and crouched in a comfortable sitting position. The Two-legs would be here any hour, and he would be ready for them.
"Greetings, Marked one. I am pleased to see you arrived safely, and trust the journey was not unpleasant." Judging by its voice, the dragon was male.
"Indeed," Aquaea said coolly, giving a curt nod in imitation of the dragon's own gesture. Although it was probably just superstition, she had heard once that, when speaking with a dragon, one was always to allow them the first greeting, then to return it in kind. It might have been simple nonsense, but she decided that it would be best to follow this advice, just in case. She would rather not have been burnt to ashes the moment the eggs hatched and she was no longer useful.
"If it would please you, my name is Aquaea. Given how many Marked will be arriving today, perhaps it would be best to distinguish us all? It might become confusing if you referred to all of us as 'Marked One,' no?" She added in a somewhat jovial, albeit tentative tone, like a jester telling an amusing joke to his liege. She had done her research well, and had also found accounts of dragons being amused and impressed by backbone and wit. She had no doubts that a normal person would have taken up an attitude of humility and supplication so as not to be instantly slain once their usefulness was outlived, and she did not doubt that this great dragon had dealt with enough people in his years to know the same. Therefore, maintaining her dignity and sharp intellect whilst not coming off as offensive was crucial. If she had calculated her words correctly, then she would be set apart from normal people. And, if she had not, then it would be an instrument by which to weigh her words, therefore becoming profitable in the long run.
She smiled slightly, her expression showing that she meant no offense by her joke, thereby hopefully ensuring her from that misconception. At worst, she might come off as having poor taste, which she rather doubted a dragon would care much about in the first place.
"Hm. Seems I'm the first one here. Shall I come in?" She said nonchalantly, glancing around. She did not want to come off as too bold by simply strolling into the dragon's home, but she also did not want to seem like a sniveling supplicant, crawling her way to the dragon's doorstep. Again, a careful balance was needed. She did not yet know much about dragons, no matter how much research she had done, meaning that she would need to take things a step at a time. While this was rather irritating, it was necessary, and therefore, she would do it.
"Well if you'd rather not have me enter, it's not a big deal," Aquaea said, wandering over to a small rock outcropping just inside the mouth of the cave. A faint blue light emerged in front of her feet, forming a sort of step upon which she climbed up on top of the rock. Seating herself, she crossed her legs, hanging them off the edge of the rock as she smiled slightly, the water which she had assimilated fading just as quickly as it had appeared. "I mean, I'd be more worried about what you thought than what those hatchlings thought, now wouldn't I?" She calculated this comment to judge the dragon's reaction yet again. In case she had been a touch too bold before, she retained her previous nonchalance and informality while making a more humble insinuation. While it still showed that she intended to treat the dragon on a more cordial level than that of a worshipful miscreant and her god-beast, it also implied that she made no pretending she was the dragon's equal in strength. Instead, the implication was much deeper and more sophisticated than that. Her words were truly a request to test their comparative stature on an intellectual basis, rather than a physical one. Although the dragon doubtless had centuries of knowledge at his disposal, Aquaea was asking to test herself against him, to see how she sized up. In short, she was actually revealing that she was gauging how to treat him - while not actually outright saying it.
Nearby, a rawsain was sitting atop a rock, speaking to something within the cave. Possibly the Great Dragon? It didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was getting help before he went unconsious.
"H-hey...wh-whoever you are, please, I need h-help..." Faquel called out faintly, trying his best to keep himself awake. His left wing lay across the ground at an odd angle, all feeling gone across it's length, the arrow still piercing it.
She was a hero.
Leaping down from the rock outcropping, she landed softly next to the fallen boy. Her knowledge of medicine was sketchy at best - given that most of it was either acquired from being injured herself, for from Tirris' rather laissez-faire approach, which had in turn been taught to her. Still, she did know a few things, and, in fact, her own unique ability would be of great use to her in treating this boy's injury.
Quickly, she called forth some water from the air. Using her control over hydrogen bonds, she separated some of the molecules into their component parts, and then put them back together as Hydrogen Peroxide (H202). The concentration was approximately 20% - perfect for the treatment of wounds.
"Stay still," Aquaea directed. "This is going to hurt quite a bit, but if you move, you'll risk doing further damage to your wing. As of now, the arrow has pierced through some of your muscles, but hasn't damaged the bone, aside from bending it. I can sew your wing back together, but, unfortunately, I don't have any herbs on hand to reduce the pain. So be strong, and stay still. If you need to vent in some way, then bite down on this." The hero's voice was quiet, cool, and calculated, but there was an unmistakable undertone of concern, and a tone of apology. This was her true self, the face of kindness she tried to hide behind a wall of stoic indifference. As she spoke, she generated some more water, concentrating it into a small, hard crystal, and let it float over toward Faquel. She waited a moment for her command to sink in, and then set to work. She let some of her newly-created hydrogen peroxide flow down into the wound, bending it through the cracks around the edges of the arrow. This would clean the wound, and simultaneously allow her to shield his delicate muscle fibers and hollowed wing-bones from damage by the arrow as she pulled it out. Concentrating the water for his protection, she had no doubt that the chemicals she had dribbled into his wound were already beginning to sting. They would kill the pain in the long run, however, which was the best she could do. Taking hold of the arrow, she gave him a warning glance.
"Here goes. Don't move, no matter what," She commanded again. Once more, she waited a moment for her words to be understood. Then, as swiftly as she could, using her water inside the wound to speed the process along, she slid out the arrow from the wound, readying her ears for the cries of agony she expected to hear. Immediately after the projectile was removed, she threw it aside, and poured the remaining hydrogen peroxide into the wound, hoping to clean it out as swiftly as possible. Simultaneously, she used the water already inside the wound to gently force the dislocated bone back into place, and to stitch the muscles back together with thin strands of solidified water. Once her chemicals were inside the injury, she took her next step - tightening the bonds between the individual molecules of water making up the boy's blood, she greatly hasted along the coagulation process, sealing the wound first with an almost instantly generated scab, then with a bandage made from the loose cloth band she wore around her left arm. Tying this tightly over the wound, winding it under his feathers, then back over the top of his wing, she finished it off by creating a makeshift splint from hardened water. It would be a pain to maintain control over, but it was the best thing she had on hand at the moment.
She sucked in her breath, trying to make up for that she'd lost expending so much energy without preparation. Artificially inducing complex chemical reactions was difficult if you weren't in the mindset for it, and she most definitely was not at the moment. She looked up, hoping against hope that the boy had passed out from agony already - she didn't want him to have suffered through having a bone forced back into place and his muscles sewn back together after being sundered apart, not to mention having an arrow ripped out of his flesh. She had been as gentle as she could with him, but she doubted it made much of a difference in regards to the pain.
"Stay still," she ordered,"This is going to hurt quite a bit, but if you move, you'll risk doing further damage to your wing. As of now, the arrow has pierced through some of your muscles, but hasn't damaged the bone, aside from bending it. I can sew your wing back together, but, unfortunately, I don't have any herbs on hand to reduce the pain. So be strong, and stay still. If you need to vent in some way, then bite down on this."
Even in such a delicate situation, she sounded calm and completely in control and spoke in a slightly calculating manner, as if she knew what she was doing. She even had a hint of apology in her voice, as if she was blaming herself for not being able to reduce the pain. It had been weeks since such a tone of kindness and concern had been shown to him.
Bracing himself, Faquel sucking in as much air into his lungs as they would allow, using an old trick his mother had taught him, and bit down. Above him, the rawsain summoned more water, concentrating it into a crystal that floated to him. Moments later, a stinging sensation flared from the wound in Faquel's wing, causing him to dig his fingers into the earth he layed on. He never knew water could sting so much!
Again, she spoke,"Here goes. Don't move, no matter what."
Exhaling, Faquel sucked in another lung full of air. He barely had time to finish inhaling before an incredibly intense pain exploded from his wound. Without the energy to scream, only a hollow gasp left Faquel's lips, emptying his in held breath. However, it was over as soon had begun, only a dull throbing replacing the intense pain he had felt. He spotted the arrow, now removed from his wing, get tossed to the side as she focused on relocating the bone in his wing and sealing the wound. She removed a losose cloth from her left arm and used it to bandage the wound. Next, with more water, she created a makeshift splint, keeping his wing in place. A few moments later, the rawsain looked up, probably checking to see if he had gone unconsious from the operation.
Slowly, Faquel sat up, careful as to not move his wing about. With the arrow removed, the rain he had felt before was greatly reduced and he was no longer bleeding to death.
Quietly, in almost a whisper, he said,"T-Thank you so much. It f-feels much better." Gathering his courage, he added,"I-Is it ok-k-kay if I know your n-name?"
Yes, she had to. Many people suffered in the name of the greater good, just as she herself was forced to suffer to protect people. Expecting to be able to save everyone from all pain in the world was an entirely unreasonable goal, like trying to catch and hold the sun in one's hand, or to light the world with a single candle. No one, not even a so-called hero, could accomplish this goal. She would just have to do the best she could, which is what she had done. After all, sometimes someone had to suffer for the sake of lessening the pain in the end. This was just the way of things.
"My name is Aquaea," She answered. "As for helping you, it was nothing to thank me for. Just relax for a while and don't use that wing, and you should be fine," She said coolly, standing up and dusting off her legs. "And you are...?"
"Seems like you've taken quiet a hit. I'm Larissa." She paused,"An angel/siren cross."
The mutt's appearance was so sudden that Faquel was at a lost for words. For a few moments, he thought he was looking at another angel, with her metallic hair. But she lacked the wings and her voice sounded more like a song. Looking her up and down, Faquel couldn't help notcing how pretty she was. Reminded him of his mother.
Gulping audibly, Faquel squeaked,"I-I'm Faquel. F-Faquel Voct T-Tendrancy."
Finished introducing, Faquel rose to his feet shakily, keeping a hand on the large stone near him to steady himself. Even with Aquaea's treatment, Faquel still felt very weak, but just had enough energy to stand. The makeshift splint strapped to his wing held firmly.
"W-Well, since I'm able to w-walk, c-can we go somewhere s-slightly darker? The l-light is too much at the m-moment."
"Well, Faquel, seems you're alive, so let's head further inside the cave, if the light is that much of a problem," The hero offered, supporting the young angel helpfully. Although she didn't make an offer to aid him in walking, it was fully implied in her manner, although her demeanor still remained completely stoic - a cold, unreadable mask.
As the hero prepared to help the angel move into the cave, she glanced down at him, giving a slightly curious look.
"So... how exactly did you get that arrow in your wing?" She asked coolly. Whatever tone of concern might have inhabited her voice was masked by her emotionless facade.
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I swiveled in my egg and was comforted when the first female spoke again. But... This female...Is not the one I am looking for...or is it? I am looking for someone. Is it her? Is it him? Is it the other? 35% chance that is the male, and 65% chance it is one of the female. More? Maybe there are more to choose from...
I do not like that they are not here...I need to decide my course, which one is mine?
I need to...
I need...
My Bonded One...
Stepping forward to greet the newest Marked, the Great Dragon lowered his head so his eye was almost on level with the Angel, speaking in a quiet, concerned tone. At least, it was quiet for him, though honestly it was rather loud. "I am sorry for your trouble, Marked One." Then, raising his head again, he eyed the group in whole with a smile. "Now, please come see the eggs. They have been waiting to meet you all."
When he said that they could see they eggs, she kneeled down to the egg that was closest to them. "Hello." she said gently, her voice taking on a soothing tone. She moved her hand towards the egg, her fingertips just barely caressing the shell. "Can they hear or see anything in there?" she asked the great dragon, with a little smile.
As Damien spoke, the copper scaled creature turned his head towards the Werewolf. "They will hatch when all the Marked have arrived. And one will choose each of you." Unless something went horribly wrong.... He chased this thought from his mind with a loud growl, directed towards himself. Such thoughts were not to be thought during such a happy time. A noise from outside the cave caught his attention. Singing?
Moving gracefully despite his great bulk, the dragon walked to the entrance of his cave and looked bemusedly at the two newest arrivals. "Greetings, Marked ones. Please, come in and see the eggs."
Najade, seeing the two-legs draw closer, gave another shrill whistle. Though they appeared as mere sketchy figures through his thick, glass like egg shell, the sight was exhilarating. Soon he would hatch, and meet his partner. Ah, this was exciting. He chirped cheerfully to himself a few times, then began to practice talking again in a gurgling voice.
The moment of truth. I finally meet the reason why I have this mark on my face. I wonder which one is mine? What kind of dragon will it be? Is it a girl? A boy? Gah, I'd wish they'd just hatch! Question after question amassed in Faquel's mind as he, along with the others, watched the eggs intently.
"So... you're my Bonded..." She murmured, chuckling. She took her time to answer the hatchling's questions, testing its patience for future reference. "Well, you're interesting, at least. I am Aquaea Hayashimizu, Rawsain and manipulator of water. And what is the name of my rather demanding and honorable partner?" She looked down with a cold, analytical eye. If her research hadn't failed her, then this Dragon was probably a Scaled Horse. So, she was rider of the fastest of dragons, huh... She couldn't really complain in that department, she supposed.
Standing up and shaking himself off, the green dragon started forward, but immediately ran into the problem of figuring out which leg went first. In the process of looking back at his feet to make sure he was walking correctly, he somehow got his snakelike body turned into a 'U' shape. Of course, this meant he was really going to opposite direction he wanted to go.
Fortunately, Najade realized this after a few moments, and got himself turned around. Trying to pretend nothing had happened, he half scampered, half stumbled towards the group of two-legs, stopping to study them all with interest before drawing close. So.... Which one would be his bonded.....
The first two-legs that caught his eye was the little winged one. What odd wings.... More like Inanna's than his other brothers and sister's batlike wings. They looked soft.... And, being the flightless dragon he was, he had always been somewhat fascinated about what flight looked like. He had heard of it, of course. When he was young and his parents were transporting him here, he had even caught glimpses of flying creatures.
Deciding that he would talk to this winged twolegs, he scrambled in that direction, short legs working hard to propel him. Stopping at the two-legs feet, he looked up at him and grinned widely. "Hi! You fly?"
"You" A femenine voice, scratched and lowly pitched, escaped from the small creature, though Faquel had guessed it was a scaled horse from her sleek shape. The scaled horse peered around the room for a moment, running her eyes over the other Marked before turning her attention back to Aquaea. Yes, I want you. Tell me a name and what are you?" After her question, she sat on her haunches and curled her tail around her legs. A near perfect copy of the Great Dragon in the background.
So, Aquaea and her Bonded struck up a conversation, Faquel standing by in a distracted air as he gazed around the room. The other dragons that had hatched had already made their way to other Marked and none of the other eggs have hatched yet. Maybe his bonded was in one of the unhatched eggs, or even one of the hatchlings found that they didn't like who they spoke to and moved on to him. Faquel honestly couldn't tell.
Deep in thought, however, he had neglated to spot the green serpent dragon making a beeline directly towards him until a high pitched "Hi! You fly?" cut through his thoughts. The question was so sudden and so near that Faquel nearly landed on the poor thing as he sprung into the air. Coming down caused his teeth to rattle and jarred his injured wing. Taking in a sharp breath, the Angel glanced around until his eyes rested upon the small serpent dragon at his feet.
The high pitched voice clearly belong to the hatchling before him and announced him as male. He was actually a very interesting looking dragon, with his wedge shaped scales like green glass, creating an interesting sight with the skin underneath. He almost looked slightly transparent, the skeletal structure running through his foot long body giving off a fragile appearance to Faquel. Bright, neon green eyes, rimmed by blue scales, stared up at him, a large grin revealing the hatcling's sharp white teeth. Faquel had never seen a dragon smile before.
"U-Um...yes. I fly." Faquel said uncertainly, still recovering from the sudden appearance. Carefully, he moved his left wing to show the makeshift splint and bandage holding it in place. "But I won't be able to any time soon until this heals. An arrow pierced my muscles."
After a moment of thought along this path, he brought his attention back to the two-legs. "What a arrow?" He knew what muscle was, and he knew what pierce was, or he at least had a general idea of what those two things were, but the word arrow was completely new and strange. However, he had already decided that these arrow things were no good whatsoever. He would be careful to keep away from them; they sounded very aggressive and dangerous. They must fly, too, to catch a flying creature and injure them like they had this two legs... Flying, dangerous, and aggressive. Very frightening indeed.
"And your name. What your name?" Najade suddenly realized that it might be beneficial to have a title to attach to this twolegs. Standing up on his back two pairs of legs, he scratched at his stomach with the other four clawed paws as he looked earnestly up at the copper haired two-legs.
Ryuu watched all the hatchlings, chewing on his upper lip in a nervous manner. Would any of the hatchlings choose him? Did he want any of the hatchlings to choose him? It was all very nervewracking. The werepup knelt on the floor and chewed on one of his fingers as he thought.
"What a arrow?"
This innocent, honest question was so out-of-the-blue that Faquel was rendered dumbstruck. He knew what an arrow was, he had one stuck through his wing only hours ago! But, to see this hatchling, looking at him as if he held all the answers, humbled him. Scratching his temple beneath his copper hair, Faquel formed his reply.
"Well, an arrow is a weapon shot from a bow, a curved piece of strong wood with a string attached to both ends. The arrow itself has a point on one end and feathers on the other, like these-" for good measure, Faquel plunked one of the losser feathers from his right wing, showing it to the little hatchling "-so that the arrow flies straight."
"And your name. What your name?"
With this, Faquel produced an equaly large grin the hatchling had worn early and replyed,"I'm Faquel. Faquel Voct Tendra-well, just call me Faquel."
His attention was jerked back to the angel as he spoke again. "I'm Faquel. Faquel Voct Tendra-well, just call me Faquel. Nahade grinned again, peering up at Faquel's face.
"Faquel..." He tried the syllables out. New words were so much fun..... "Arrow bite Faquel hard?"
Still absently wondering whether baby dragons could breath fire or whatever it was dragons breathed, he grinned at it. It? No, it sounded like a he. "Hello there." The dragon smelled new and fresh, and very dragon-y. Dragon-y, yes, that was the word. Lizards smelled more brown, so reptile-y would not be correct.
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There were several minutes, Xanath could hear the noise of cracking eggshells and voices of the two-legs. One he was to be stuck with. Young the creature still had a drive. He desired dominance, at least for now. Eventually he tired of waiting and, testing young limbs, pushed against the hard surface of the shell. There was resistance but Xanath would not be overwhelmed, could not be. He pushed harder. A crack appeared in the glinting surface. As the sinewy dragon uncurled he braced himself and pushed more, head and shoulders against the weak point. The fissures spread, a latticework of black on black. There was no great release of pressure or force, the shell gave way slowly, splinting away as Xanath claw his body through the space. He dropped down onto the ground. A whole new world of sensations opening themselves to him. He felt more then thick yolk against his scales. Smells permeated the air, pungent and aromatic to his nostrils. His eyes opened, black slits dilating rapidly in the new light. His yellow gaze flitted from place to place, drinking in the blurred objects that ruled above hie head. There was not fear though, the Great Dragon had reassured them of their safety. Additionally, deep within Xanath's spirit rallied against any feeling of fear. He would not cower before the two-legs. For that was what the shapes resolved themselves to be. Xanath studied them intently, as intently as his young mind could manage. He shook himself a little, shedding slick yolk from his gleaming black scales. He tested his body, flexing claws, flicking his tail and extending his bat-like wings. A few moments of stretching he settled down and looked to face to face of the marked assembled. He understood he had to pick want. He didn't want to but he had to, it was a drive and command.
Cautious but not afraid, Xanath skittered forward. Moving a a small distance sharply before halting again. He keep his body low, feeling his scales brush lightly against the stone surface of the cave. Each pause he took a chance to look at the two-legs going about their business. He kept his distance from them and the other newly hatched dragons. They seemed too eager, he didn't like that. The two-legs were too tall, he didn't like that either. They looked too big, too strong. He wanted to be more, to control, to dominate. No they were no option, at least at first. He spotted another two-leg, this one knelt. It looked small, young, weak. Maybe he would be stronger then this one. He scuttled towards Ryuu, following his old darting travel pattern. If anyone approached, dragon or otherwise, he snapped and hissed at them. He knew he was small and not scary, but he tried to get the point across to leave him alone. He neared the ginger youth. There was another dragon there, stupidly attempting to balance on two legs. Xanath didn't approach, he skulked in the background, watching.
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His leap brought him to the ground in front of the other, passing at an angle. He didn't stop there, he rebounded from the hard rock. His second lunge took him past the other a shorter distance. With a quick scrabble he halted his momentum, trying to swing his body around so he was once again facing his friendly opponent. The maneuver was not elegant but it was executed without him crashing into the new two-leg that arrived. He was quite proud of it. Xanath, now no longer hugging the ground, stood strongly on all four limbs as he stepped in closer. A mischievous twinkle in his sharp yellow eyes, reflected in the energetic quivering of his wings and the flicking of his tail. He closed as far as he dared, with biting distance if he stretched. Then he waited for Solaris to make the next move.
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