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Isirion

The Bloodline of Torch

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Diablo grinned at the reaction he got from the man before nodding, "I'll send word by Pygmy, if I am needed before I finish dealing with this. The easiest place for the Pygmys to find me will either be at the Hive or later near the mansion of the Blue Lady". His words were casual as he walked out, almost dismissive in fact, but not enough to validate any kind of disciplinary measure. Once he left Chet to most likely seethe at his response, Diablo jogged back to Nyx, swinging onto her back with an easy fluid motion that spoke of years of training and pratice and urged her skyward.

 

As they glided through the sky on their way towards the big city, Diablo let his mind wander, mainly towards the events that happened  a few years ago, that not only gave him a special gift, but also caused Chet's rather amusing outbursts at the slightest mention of the word 'Death' in the present.

 
An eerie shadow clad in the black-air-bandit cloak and hood had slipped among them and swiftly cut his way through towards Chet and his dragon Blackjade. The man severed life and limb of anyone that tried to block his way until his blade finally pierced Chet's breast. The following fight between the man and Blackjade left Diablo speechless in the corner he was hiding. It was even fiercer than anything he had seen in the different underground arenas, albeit it had to be the same man he had seen fighting there. While Chet was bleeding out near his hiding place, the man mutilated Blackjade with every strike and even started to skin her, after she finally stopped fighting back. Diablo following his instinct used the chance and dragged Chet away and began to sew up his wound like he had learned working at his mother's business. When the last stitch was done, the man was gone but the glowing green light in Blackjade's eyes wasn't. He could have even sworn it was directed at him, beckoning him closer...

 

The memory faded once more into the background of his mind and Diablo thought about how those events had played a major part in how he had manged to attain his position as the black-air-bandits prime hunter, able to taunt even their leader Chet with little to no repercussions for his teasings.

Entering the city itself was easy enough, when the Nebula patrol approached he simply pulled his cloaks hood back far enough for them to see his face and moved his signature Black-Dragon-paw-gauntlet into a more viewable position as he had already become known city-wide for his unusual costumes at parties, that most of the time incorporated black dragon parts of varying degrees, still being able to function as they were when still attached to their previous owners.

Approaching the Hive was more time consuming. Once they were at the property, they landed, Nyx following behind Diablo as he approached the guards and he pushed the cloak back to reveal his face and the family crest on the clasp of both his belt and cape. The smaller of the pair on gate duty addressed him "Young Master Dämon, welcome back, shall we have your dragon attended too in your place?", Diablo, reminding himself to respond to Dämon now, simply shook his head and replied "Ill tend to her myself, inform my mother that I shall be with her shortly". Diablo took Nyx to the underground living areas and let her go off to find her cave she had insisted on digging out herself and headed into the mansion, mentally preparing to greet his imposing mother and free spirited older sister while at the same time fending off the drones that swarmed him asking him different things such as "Young Master can we get you anything to drink" or "Young master should we draw the bath".

Edited by FallenDiablo

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And just as he imagined it, a drone, face hidden by the traditional black and gold halfmask approached him, towels and bathing implements at the ready. Diablo employed his most effective defensive technique - a noble, dismissive handwave and hastened pace enabling him to soon enter his mother's audience chamber. The room was styled in black and gold like the family crest, crossed golden needles crowning the head of a black dragon. The tail of dragon branched into other tails of different colours symbolizing the branch families. It showed everyone that while priding themselves on owning the most successful tailoring business, they were also able and willing to defend and even expand it further with the fierceness and power of a dragon. The dress his mother wore today underlined that message to a point - a row of black dragon spikes enhancing the shoulder and neckline like the rays of a black sun. They were sewn on so naturally as if they were part of the body, not taking a way an inch of the natural flow of the dress that emphasized is mother's beauty despite her age nearing the fifties for a while now. Diablo had studied sewing and tailoring, but the skill needed to make this kind of dress still surpassed his own. His mothers briefly bathed in his admiring glance before adressing him: "Son, I have not expected you to return this early and without the company of the magnificent gift for the blue lady. Explain yourself or prepare to face another week without setting foot into the basement."

Edited by Isirion

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Diablo, finally having escaped the clutches of the servants saw his mother in the magnificent dress and went on one knee, his eyes roaming the dress that his mother wore, the skill required to create such a beautiful masterpiece was greater than anything he had seen before, that is except for the other pieces that his mother had made. Her works always radiated beauty, power, and a hit at the terribly destructive power she held in the palm of her hand and could unleash at the slightest displeasure, to her son this was an inspiering motivator in order to eventually surpass his mothers skills and prove himself worthy to support the family and his older sister who would most likely inherit the official title of Family Head. Despite Königin's age, her appearance looked at least twenty years younger, something the main family had always been proud of going back several generations and it was often the envy of other less fortunate nobles who's appearances deteriorated far faster and required them to rely on whatever methods they could use to hide their aging.

 

As his mind thought over this he remembered that there had already many older letcherous men who had been trying to propose to his elder sister since early on because of the exceptional beauty of both the female and male offspring their family produce, offering gifts and other such items in attempts to buy her or their mothers favour, only to find themselves staring down the throat of Diablo's mothers Alt Black Dragon. Not many of those attempted sutors managed to stop their bladders in time, shaming themselves with their fear, and not even the other nobles were allowed to carelessly approach or court either of the heirs. Trying not to grin at the thought, Diablo bowed his head and began explaining the situation to his mother, "Greetings dearest Mother, I apologise for the inadequecy, I captured the blue Zyumorph that had been spotted in the desert previously, however while I was out performing another task, Leader Chet, had one of his..." Diablo looked for the most appropriate description for what he had heard happen before continuing, "One of his episodes, after which the Zyumorph broke free and escaped, when I tracked it down all I was able to find was the remanants of a recent fire and no sign of the creature even after flying over the desert for many hours."

As he waited for his mothers reply, he wondered if the backup plan he had prepared, a pair of high quality Aeria Gloris eggs he had procured a little while back when he had met a trader that had travelled to the city from the Alpines and placed into the incubation chamber in the underground tunnels. He hoped that it would be enough to appease his mothers displeasure at the dissapearance of the Zyumorph and enough to bring with them to the party that evening.

Edited by FallenDiablo

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Königin von Gefallen, let her index finger draw elaborate patterns into the air before adressing her son: "Ah yes, Chet. I remember him, from when he was still called by another, quite similar sounding name for always being on dragon dung duty for his insubordinance, but I digress. Son, you have done well in procuring equally rare and valuable replacement items, so that our gift to the blue lady will still be the most special one. It would suit your sister well to learn from your prudence, so do remind her of her duties to the family from time to time. I still have to choose and outfit the warrior-drones that will escort me to the masquerade event. You are dismissed, unless there is something else I need to know." With a grand hand-gesture and a curt nod of approvement, Königin awaited for her son to either continue his narrative or leave her to her business.

 

In the mean-time at the abandoned Sunstone-base

 

To preserve the element of surprise, Sodger had the remaining half of the Hellfire Army use the dunes as cover, just as the bandits they were hunting had done, in case they tried to double back. The endless desert was aptly named and so they had a much better chance of finding a sandcorn in the desert if the sandcorn came to them. If Azmodan and his part of the army scared them back towards him, their prey would be caught in a classic pincer move, unable to escape. The ex-captain of the Royal Blue smiled at the prospect. It was just a matter of time...

Edited by Isirion

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Diablo smiled softly, his mother seemed to be in a fine mood and that boded well for him. Standing up slowly he looked around the room, looking for where his sister might be lurking or a maid might be wandering before turning back to his mother. "Of course mother, there is but one more piece of information I have that I learned while I was searching for the Zyumorph." His expression grew darkened as he thought of how to introduce the rather disturbing news before deciding it would be best not to beat around the bush and be straightforward, "There is a large host of Hellfire Wyverns crossing the desert towards the city, I was tasked with bringing this news to the Nebs when I came into the city.

Meanwhile in the kitchen the cooks had just come in to prepare a meal for the Young Master, their gossip could be heard throughout the surrounding rooms. From one such room, which happened to be the pantry, muffled sounds of pleasure and a womans voice had been cut short as the gossip began to fly, a few moments later a maid with a beat red face hurridly slipped from the pantry and rushed off to her chores, causing a couple of the cooks to chuckle as they already had a good idea of who else was in the pantry. Moments later their suspicions were confirmed, Iris stepped from the room, looking completely unruffled, unlike the maid who had already run down the hall moments before. "Princess" The cooks all said repectfully, beginning to get working on the food, and Iris quickly departed the kitchen to hunt for her o' so adorable little brother.

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"Hellfire Wyverns?", as unbelievable as it seemed, Königin sounded almost agitated. There also was a clear hint of concern in her voice as she spoke: "That is no laughing matter. The Nebulas with their captains chosen by political bootlicking instead of skill don't have the experience to deal with an army. They have not witnessed the Dragon War as I did. Hurry to the nearest patrol tower and tell them to relay the message as quickly as possible. They need to be prepared to evacuate. There could not be a worse time for an impending attack, which means whoever controls that army is no fool. I am inclined to send out a few of scouts of my own to find out who they are. If we know their identity, we will be able to find some leverage to halt their attack until our city's defenses are up to the task. Now, go quickly, the whole von Gefallen family will have their hands full with this. Tell your sister too, if you see her."

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Diablo looked supprised, and slightly concerned at his mothers reaction to the news, however he did not let it show on his face. Bowing his head in acknowledgement and adjusted his cape as he stood back up straight. With another bow of his head he left without another word, striding down the hall as fast as his legs would allow, without seeming to be frantic or rushed. As he rounded one of the corners in the hall a flying mass of snow white hair and golden looking eyes hit him in the chest, knocking him to the floor with her velocity as he caught his highly conspicuous sister so she wouldn't hurt herself in her unusual attempt at a greeting. Although he was capable of catching her without falling it was far easier to indulge her playful attitude than to act like a stubborn boulder and he smiled softly, "Sister, your as energetic as ever."

Iris, her hair still a giant mess from running to find her little brother, and then jumping at him in her usual greeting, grinned and hugged him again, "Little Brother!! Your back, you didn't even stay last time long enough to say hello, you'd better not be leaving again already." At first her tone was excited but as she spoke she became more pouty and less dignified, something she only did when she was with her brother and they had no one looking to see her unheir like behaviour. Seeing the way she pouted he tapped her forhead and said, "No frowning, it'll cause you to get wrinkles." He laughed as she scrunched her face up more before relaxing it and continued on, "I would love to stay and spend time with you, however we need to get moving, when I was out I spotted a host of Hellfire Wyverns headed towards the city and I need to warn the Nebs to start evacuations, you should go assist mother while I am out." Although she wanted to spend time with her little brother Iris understood and got up, straightening her cloths and hair, her large amber eyes seemed to shift from playful to serious in but a moment and the air of the heir of house von Gefallen had returned to her features. "Dämon, if you get hurt I wont forgive you." Before he could respond to her statement she strode off to see their mother and assist in preparations for what is about to come, leaving Diablo to go alert the guards.

Leaving the mansion did not take long and Diablo
whistled, and but moments later a golden flash could be seen flying towards him, a spectacular sight to behold. A few moments later the Golden Wyvern landed next to him and he rubbed her neck affectionately as she hit him, albeit gently, in the head with her head as if to say 'I missed you', before saying verbally as well. After exchanging a few words to calm her down since he had been away for quite a while he deftly swung up onto her back and patted her neck again, telling her "Sollaria, we need to pay a visit to the Nebs, and theres a high chance the party won't be happening tonight". Sollaria, making a dissapointed expression as best she could at the mention of not being able to show off, as was normal for her breed, lept into the air and flew as fast as they could towards the Neb's tower.

Edited by FallenDiablo

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The nearest Neb tower was on high-alert already, featuring mostly blue-coloured Nebulas flying around it on patrol and bathing it in their wing-patterns' light. Despite this, the guards on the ground seemed suspiciously calm and confident. Passerby in the street also looked fully at ease. The reason for this was clearly visible in the banners decorating the tower, depicting an executed Royal Blue and like-wise executed assassin. To further the message that the main threat had already been dealt with, city-heralds proclaimed a story that concurred with the one that could be read from the many, recently applied posters decorating most of the larger buildings and structures:

 

Citizens,

 

this is the account of the disturbances that occurred over the past days in our fair city, which the Nebulas were able to quickly and competently respond and restore peace again. Those disturbances were actually all connected to a plot to assassinate the city noble Lord Hassleborough. The plot began with creating a diversion through a rampaging Royal Blue. The Nebulas are happy to inform you, that this individual dragon has already been apprehended and executed. The next part of the plot was using the diversion to free prisoners scheduled to be executed for their crimes thus drawing away even more of the Nebulas forces than the previous distraction since the Nebulas simple can't fail to respond if a rampaging dragon and escaped prisoners put the citizens of their beloved city in danger. That fact allowed the assassin to infiltrate the Hassleborough mansion and fulfill his ghastly mission. Opposed to baseless rumours flying around that this assassin was the mythical character nicknamed Death, the murderer was only a paid assassin who, like his accomplice dragon, has already been killed by the dutiful Nebulas who put their lives on the line to do so. Those Nebulas who fell in the line of duty will be buried with honour and their families and loved ones will be looked after. The ringleader of this plot, the ex-arena-master known as Pride is in the process of being hunted down along with his associates, the Golden Wyvern called Golden Myth, a bear-like man and a greenhaired lady. An especially large amount of coins will be provided to the citizen that delivers information that speeds up their capture.

 

Signed

Sir Kenneth Overton, high captain of the Nebula patrol

 

When the two guards posted to the left and right of the patrol tower's entrance spotted the approaching dragon and rider, they readied their crossbows, just in case the visitor turned out to be someone they needed to shoot instead of salute.

Edited by Isirion

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As they flew, Dämon took the mask off so he would be easily recognisable and he stood on Sollaria's back so he was clearly visable to the patrol tower so they could tell he was someone of important status. Sollaria flew around the tower twice, and on the second pass Dämon lept off, nimbly rolling to break his fall and coming to a stand in front of the guards as Sollaria flew around the tower waiting instead of landing, the sense of urgency that the action intoned did not leave a good taste in the mouths of the guards as the young noble stood before them. "I am Dämon von Gefallen, I bear ill news for your captain, is he in currently?" Dämon's voice also bore a sense of urgency, coupled with his cloak clasp that bore the von Gefallen main family crest and his piercing green eyes, would easily intimidate any who knew of the von Gefallen house.

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The two patrol-guards immediately lowered their crossbows upon spotting the von Gefallen crest. Not showing the proper respect to a city noble was like asking to get whipped by the blue lady's dragon-whip that had about as many tails as the von Gefallen family had branches. Both guards bowed as low as their armour allowed and then the right one said: "Captain Hightower is in his office, I'll show you the way." The left one seemed to have frozen in place, still bowing after the young noble had already entered the tower.

 

The first guard led Dämon all the way to the office on the top floor, loudly announcing the visitor, so anyone inside unfortunately enough not to be properly dressed due to trying out costumes for the party, could adjust just in time. Slightly out of breath, with hair sligthly out of place, captain Hightower opened the heavy door and welcomed Dämon in: "Mister von Gefallen, Sir, have you come to make sure that the situation in the city has been handled? I can assure you that the Nebulas have dealt with...the threat - it is all on the posters and in the papers." The captain was very proud of himself, that he had paused only for the briefest moment, when his mind remembered how they had made a show of executing a scape-dragon Royal Blue and an already dead guy, a patrol had found inside Pride's arena before burning it all down.

 

At the same time at the Shadow guild

 

*whoosh* "How dare they do that to Trueshot!" *whoosh* "Those Nebs deserve to be executed!" *whoosh* "If he was still alive he would kill them for desecrating his body like that!" *wh---* The sound of a throwing knife not hitting a training-target could be heard, because Nightblade had stepped in and caught it firmly on the handle. He returned the weapon to Nightfeather and said: "The Nebulas pinning Hassleborough's murder on our dear friend and desecrating his body is unforgivable, but taking your anger out on training-targets will do nothing to undo the damage. Also, your hand hasn't fully healed yet, so you should not overexert it especially since we have a new mission. Amara Hassleborough has ordered us to infiltrate the blue lady's masquerade party and find out who of the nobles there hired the real murderer. I fully understand Jack and the rest of his pathetic thieves getting killed after what he told me when he hired me - but taking out a city lord and all his guards along with him? This smells like a plot from another noble family in order to seriously weaken the Vine Empire. We have to find out which family, find proof and inform Amara who will also be at the party. Dress up as whatever you like that allows you to keep an eye on everything without them knowing. I will assign one of us to each noble family. You get the von Gefallens. I have heard you already got close to their heiress." Despite still seething inside about what the Nebs had done to Trueshot's body, Nightblade couldn't help a little smirk, when he thought about the rumours he had heard about how close exactly Nightfeather had gotten to Iris von Gefallen...

Edited by Isirion

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Dämon couldn't help but smile ever so slightly at the sight of the disheveled man as he ushered Dämon into the room. Unfortunately he was unable to enjoy the moment for long and as soon as they were both inside, Dämon began addressing the Nebula Captain, "Captain, there have been sightings of a host of Hellfire Wyverns approaching the city over the desert, the Hive Queen sent me personally to deliver the message and make sure it was passed on so that preparations for evacuations could be made." As he spoke of the Hive Queen, it was unmistakable he was referring to his mother, Königin, user the formal house title, which suited her and her reputation perfectly.

Reaching into his cloak Dämon pulled out a small metal coin with the von Gefallen crest on it and put it on the table in front of the man, "This is to... help convince the nobles that there is a looming threat, and I expect to have it returned to me after this incident is over." The unspoken threat that he would retrieve it himself if the coin was not returned on time hung over the conversation, the coin sitting on the table bore a death sentence to nearly anyone that tried to use the crest of the von Gefallen without permission.

Edited by FallenDiablo

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Captain Darian Hightower eyed the coin with a frown before picking it up and putting it carefully into his pocket. Being the second son of the Hightower family he had seen his fair share of noble crests, but the black dragon of the von Gefallens was the one he disliked the most. There was something weird about that family, they were too diligent, more like bees than humans - so much that everyone, including themselves called their lair the Hive and their leader the Hive Queen. All of them were way too perfect and handsome, as if they bred themselves like the blue lady bred Nebulas - weeding out weakness and imperfection, leaving only the strong and beautiful. Darian winced at the thought of what they supposedly did with children not meeting their standards, probably the same the blue lady did with disobedient dragons and wondered not for the first time why those two families didn't get along at all. Sure, whenever they met on offical occasions the Hive Queen and the Blue Lady exchanged nothing but courtesies, only Darian could tell that inside they were both seething. Not wanting to get on the bad side of any of them, he quickly called more guards and said: "I have a message you are to deliver personally since it is too important to risk it getting lost if we send messenger pygmies. All towers and nobles should prepare for evacuation since there is a large host of Hellfire Wyverns approaching the city. As long as that threat is active red and orange Nebulas shall lit up the towers. Once we receive an all-clear we will replace them with green ones. The purple and blue ones will be out on patrol. Understood?" The summoned guards nodded, saluted to Darian and Dämon and rushed off to fulfill their mission.

 

Darian breathed a sigh of relief that they had made a good impression by acting so quickly before he addressed the noble in front of him again: "The blue lady will be furious if the masquerade party she has been planning for weeks has to be cancelled. I will go and inform her in person about the situation and of course show her your coin. If you are satisfied with the way the Nebulas are handling the situation, I ask you to excuse me so I can fulfill this highly important mission as quickly as possible too."

 

Meanwhile at a certain tavern in the big city

 

Exhaustion finally took over Isirion. His head and shoulders slumped against the wall and he nodded off, looking just like a napping grandpa complete with a little drool. His carefully measured breathing, still a bit rough from the smoke, eased up and he slid right into a dream. In this dream he was a young boy again, living with his parents in the fishermen's village. Like them he was out fishing on a raft, but unlike them he hadn't made a single catch. His mind wasn't on the task, and his feet dangling lazily in the water didn't help either. It didn't matter, soon he wouldn't have to see, smell or gut a single fish anymore, because his parents would take him to the big city to become an apprentice of whatever trade he wanted. He imagined himself learning to forge a sword and wielding it like a soldier or maybe learn to cook so that he could make himself non-fishy dishes that would be as delicious as those served by the young couple owning the Sleeping Dragon tavern. Or he could focus on improving his reading skills and become a scholar, learning more about dragons which were a lot more interesting than fish. The possibilities were as endless as the endless desert...

Edited by Isirion

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Keeping deathly still the entire time that Captain Hightower spoke, Dämon waited until he had the mans attention again before nodding at what the man had said. "I would expect so, I do believe there have been a plan set in motion to delay or halt the Hellfire host as we speak but it would be best not to leave everything to fate. If things go well, there won't be a need to halt the party, but if not then I would rather be somewhere not bathed in Hellfire, even if that would mean enduring the Ladies wrath for a period of time." Standing up Dämon held out his right hand to shake, a gesture to show he had confidence the man would fulfill his role, keeping his left hand inside to cloak as he felt no need to use it to imply anything to spur the man on. 

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Darian didn't hesitate to take the outstretched hand - if a von Gefallen offered a handshake - especially in place of a painful dragon paw shake - you took it. When that was done, Darian bowed and stormed off to call his Blue Nebula to quickly take him to the Blue Mansion. The dragon knew the way by heart since she had been raised and trained there for duty like most other Nebulas. Being the favourite colour of the Blue Lady she had been treated a little bit better than her red, green or purple age-mates, but it had still been a harrowing experience that had left all of them afraid to disobey even the smallest order...

 

Meanwhile at a certain tavern in the big city

 

Having slumped into an a little more comfortable position, Isirion was still dreaming. More childhood days passed, spent chasing age-mates around, climbing trees, waving around stick-swords or gutting fish with a disgusted wrinkle on his face. Then the big day came. His parents had packed their meager belongings for the journey to the big city. They could only afford two rental dragons, so he shared a dragon with his mother. At first flying high in the sky was exhilarating, but soon his behind began to hurt from the unfamiliar mode of transportation. Since one dragon had to carry two people they also had to rest more often and when they finally reached the desert night was already closing in. His father looked more worried than he had ever seen him, but there was no turning back now. He made their dragons fly closely together, a tactic he had seen small fish banding together do in order to throw off predators. If they had been fish and living in the lake it might have worked, but the glowing green eyes appearing some time later all around them belonged to a whole other class of predators - one who wouldn't be fooled by such a petty trick. Four Black Dragons closed in and forced the two rentals to land. Their leader, riding a majestic and haughty looking female Black, cracked a thin bullwhip a few times to make the captured dragons cower even more, then he commanded: "Blackjade, kill the riders, they look too rag-tag to be worth anything, but make sure their saddle-bags stay intact, those could be worth a few coins at least." The Black Dragon roared, her eyes lit up even more as she swiped the older male human from his dragon with one paw-strike, killing him instantly. Scared out of her mind, the female grabbed the younger male and jumped off their dragon with him. Both trying to run away as fast as they could. Drawing a deep breath, Blackjade carefully aimed her acid and melted the woman before she could run away too far. The boy screamed like a wounded animal when he registered what had happened, but he didn't stop. He even increased his speed and randomly jumped left and right to avoid his mother's fate, trying to get out of the dragon's reach. Blackjade tried three times to hit him, but the only thing left sizzling were pools of acrid sand. Her rider Chet cracked his bullwhip once more, a signal to take off and pursuit, but he didn't order her again to kill the boy. Instead, when the Black was right behind his target, he let his bullwhip stretch out and coil along the boy's leg, causing him to plant his tear-stained face in the sand. Chet casually jumped off and firmly planted his foot on the boy's back. He pushed him a few inches more into the sand before he pulled him out and teased him with unveiled cruelty: "Get used to the dirt, Dirt. That's what you are now. A breathing pile of dirt. If you try to run away again Blackjade will melt you into a stinking pile of dirt just like your mother." The boy was too shocked to say or do anything, even when the sounds of the Black Dragon claiming the juicest parts of her first kill reached his ear. Just like his parents, a part of him had died today and another part had changed forever...the boy wanting to study dragons was gone, in his stead a boy wanting nothing more than to kill a certain dragon opened his ice-cold eyes...

Edited by Isirion

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With a flourish of his cape, Dämon made his way up the tower towards the roosts, briefly displaying a coin with his family crest on it for any guards in the area to see in case they tried to approach or halt him, confident that the emblem would be enough to make them keep their distance as he walked. Reaching the edge of the roosts that sat open to the sky, he turned around and simply let himself fall backwards, his cape billowing up around him as he disappeared over the edge. Moments after the noble went over the edge a golden flash flew up past it, that very same noble now riding on the Golden Wyverns back. Dämon patted Sollaria's neck gently and smiled faintly as he imagined the faces of any and all onlookers that had watched his little spectacle before saying to her "Time to return home, Mother is waiting for the report."

 

Meanwhile In the Hive

 

Königin was standing in her operations room directing the drones to various tasks in order to prepare for any situation. Directing her instructions to one young maid, "Bring all the valuables down into the vault in the underground, there should be plenty of other drones able to assist you in this endeavour and I expect to find everything safely locked in the vault and accounted for." The maid rushed off to comply with her Queen's commands and Königin's gaze fell on a stable lad, "And you, make sure the dragons are not going to cause a fuss, get out of their pens or get injured, they, and their hide, are worth far more than you are." Her tone was menacing and the stable lad rushed off as well, barely remembering to be respectful to the Queen. Once those two matters were underway Königin began thinking about how to deal with the potentially difficult diplomatic issue on her hands.

 

Upon entering the room Iris immediately caught her mother's attention, who waved her over as if she were a mere servant, and Iris let out a groan much to her mother's irritation. "Daughter, you must head into the desert and discern the identity of the leader that is bringing this host down upon us and bring any other information that might be valuable to the situation, " Königin said in a cold tone, without even sparing her daughter the slightest glance, earning another sigh from Iris as the girl wished dearly that her brother were there to lighten their mothers mood as well as reassure Iris that everything would go well. Then Iris responded "Yes mother", which despite knowing it would infuriate her mother, Iris said in a cheerfully mocking tone. Königin was furious but contained her wrath, for it was not the time, and there would always be time later to discipline her daughter when they had more information.

 

Walking into the hall Iris whistled and a young-looking maid came running up to her, this one was too young to have been one of Iris' 'playthings' and instead seemed to look up to the heir with awe and amazement, "Princess, you called for me?" Iris nodded and patted the little girls head smiling at the young protégé. "I need my scouting equipment and my liver of sulphur Copper ready to take off as soon as possible." The young girl nodded and after handing the task of preparing the dragon to one of the keepers, followed her mistress to Iris' bedroom, assisting her in putting on the liver of sulphur coloured bodysuit. Iris then took out the box her brother had gifted her for her last birthday and took out the claws that fitted to her hands snugly and the assortments of daggers she could hide inside specially fitted pockets in her 'scout suit'.

 

On her way out Iris scooped up her scouting kit which is made up of a spyglass, sketchbook, pencils and a small supply of dried rations and water to keep her moving while scouting. When she reached the underground stable where her Liver of Sulfur Copper, appropriately named Shade, was kept, she mounted and urged the creature to find the nearest exit and get them into the air as fast as possible.

 

It took very little time for the heiress to exit the city, using the least monitored exits and simply showing her face and crest to anyone that attempted to halt her way would be enough to gain passage, and most likely scare them enough to refrain from speaking due to the rather terrifying rumours that occasionally filled the city about the Gefallen family and the lengths they would go to to keep their secrets. Upon clearing the city Iris began searching the desert for the large number of dragons that had begun to approach the city.

 

Only moments after Iris had finished preparing and left the Hive on her mission, Dämon landed and made his way to his mother after sending Sollaria to the underground cave she had to herself like all his other close dragons. As soon as he entered the room his mother was in he went down on one knee and bowed his head "My Queen, I have completed my task and the Nebs are preparing as we speak". She smiled softly and bid him raise his head as she spoke, "Good work my son, now prepare your facilities while you can." Bowing to his mother once again Dämon went down to his laboratory and workshop and began organising his things, moving all the notes and important documentation and tools that were hard to replace, to the vault.

Edited by FallenDiablo

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Meanwhile at a certain tavern in the big city

 

Pride had finally finished cleaning himself and the bathtub up, but his thoughts were still a mess. How could one person make him feel so many contradicting emotions without showing any emotion themselves. Sure, Isirion had gotten mad every time he had invaded his personal space, but other than that it had made no difference whatsoever whether he threatened to kill him, kill everyone at the blue lady's party, stabbing a pygmy's wings, training a pygmy, trading bawdy jokes with Felicia, fighting off and killing all those Nebs, talking about his time spent as their prisoner or encouraging him to just take over another arena to replace his own. What was the real face of the mythical Death he had idolized for the longest time? Pride watched his own reflection in the now squeaky clean bath-tub but his mirror-self just gazed back looking as confused as he was. Thanks a lot me, Pride thought and stepped back into the bigger room to check if his better half, his wife had already returned. Looking around the room, Pride gasped to see yet another face of Death - his sleeping face complete with a little drool and a lot of maybe, maybe not fake wrinkles. Opposite him - on the other side of the room sat Fingers, clasping his stump and probably thinking that Isirion seeming to be asleep was just a trick to lure him into trying to run away again. Alzira was there too, trying to paint as silently as possible. Sappo had made himself comfortable on the table from where he could see all three of them. While Pride was still wondering on how to react, Isirion groaned and his face contorted as if he was having another nightmare...

Edited by Isirion

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Finally a little quiet and some time to cool down! Impersonating such a devious character really took it out of Alzira and so she decided to use the unexpected calm to take care of her painting equipment. She then skipped through her sketches and put them in order. This would center her again, or so she hoped. Skimming through she decided to enhance a few of her pieces with watercolour, a few simple strokes could change so much, but to be true for a real painting, oil that is, more time and a bit of planning was required.

 

Nevertheless she started to sketch out a few and prepard the canvas with scenery. She was so glad that one of her former art teachers, a man of pure technique, had insisted on training her in the ways of quick backgrounds. After these preparations were finished and put in a corner to dry a bit, she had to chose her final motives. Browsing through her sketches again she decided on one of the more recent sketches, Sappo and Leal in training. She picked the reference sheets and put some rough lines on the paper. Stroke after stroke she worked out the position of the pygmies to each other, head, tail and wings. After that she took a short break.

 

Sappo was still watching the people in the room from his new watchpost. He noticed his keeper standing up and walking around a bit. She too had noticed Isirion´s uneasy sleep turning into a nightmare. Alzira was not sure how to proceed. If it had been any other person, she would have jolted him awake but with Isirion, who was always on edge she thought that a rather dangerous idea. She decided on an alternate method. She took one of her broader brushes and soaked it with water and from a distance she shook it violently and sent fat drops of cold water on their way.

 

Edited by Alzira

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Both Pride and Fingers wide-eyedly watched the water drops finish their descent and land on Isirion's face, waking him up instantly. Like Alzira had predicted, being woken up abruptly triggered a dangerous defensive reflex. Before his eyes were fully open the assassin's knife was already in his hand slashing a wide, thankfully empty, arc in front of him. Fully awake now, but still looking a bit disoriented, Isirion scanned his surroundings and finally lowered his weapon. He touched his face with his free hand, wondering if the wet stains on it if were the last remnants of his highly disturbing nightmare.

 

Pride, always empathic, forgot his doubts and fears and asked kindly: "Did you have a nightmare? Was it about your past? Talking about it will surely help. If you run from your emotions too long it will hurt even more when they finally catch up." Isirion raised his head and looked Pride right into the eye for a few seconds, searching for a sign that he was being mocked, then, finding none, he lowered his head again and started talking with a hoarse whisper: "It is not the first time I am having this nightmare, but never like this. I am used to seeing my father being turned into minced meat and my mother into a puddle of acid right in front of my eyes, but this time, I was the Black Dragon that did that to them. I don't understand why I suddenly saw the past from her perspective like that. Blackjade is long dead, and no danger to anyone anymore." Isirion's eyes wandered briefly to his Black Dragon skin cloak currently disguised as a rolled up travelling bundle and he fell silent again. Now Pride's face contorted in a mix of repressed curiosity, unveiled compassion and a bit of pride that he actually had guessed a part of Death's origin story correctly. Now he understood why Death had been so calm and composed when he had first laid eyes on him in the arena-cages. He had already been mentally prepared, even wanting to kill a dragon. Pride took a deep breath and asked: "Did you let yourself be captured by the Nebs on purpose so that you could practice killing dragons because you wanted to avenge your family?" Isirion gave no answer at first. Speaking Blackjade's name out aloud, brought back the memories of what that dragon had done even more vividly than the nightmares had. He had been terribly weak then, unable to do anything but futilely run away and that was something he didn't want to remember at all. Looking away at his cloak again, he finally said, more to himself, than anyone else: "I tried to do the right thing when I had the chance, but how could I have known that the accursed Black-air-bandits were actually working together with the Nebs sworn to uphold the law and everything in this city. When they imprisoned me after telling them the location of the bandits' lair, I knew I shouldn't have relied on anyone else but myself. From then on, every dragon I slew back then was just practice for killing Blackjade and every man I killed a stand-in for Chet, her rider and leader of the Black-air-bandits. I know now what that dream about them was trying to tell me. If I keep involving others, I will get them killed just like I got my parents killed because they accompanied me to this accursed city. Thank you for opening my eyes. I will take care of this myself after all. Farewell!" It took Isirion only a second to grab his meager belongings and be halfway out of the door already...

 

Meanwhile at the Blue Mansion...

 

Looking down on her servants from her private balcony, the Blue Lady had tirelessly called out imperfections to be rectified. There were no staff members slacking off or hesitating, they all knew the consequences too well. Now, finally everything was perfect and Lady Cerulia Phirestone the First shooed the workers away with a flick of the wrist. Another brief hand signal and one of her bodyguards went and fetched her daughter. Princess Celeris came with as much speed as her five year old body could produce, her suncoloured hair flowing behind like a wild stallion's tail in full gallop. A moment before she would have bumped into her mother, Celeris stopped gracefully, turning her motion into a piroutte and ended with a perfect curtsy. Her sky-blue eyes searched her mother's same-coloured eyes beneath the veil and raising her head again, she asked innocently: "Does your summon mean that I can go to the party too? I already finished all my lessons and I am ready to wear whatever rid...radiant costume you had made for me." Cerulia raised her hand and silently let it hang in the air - a pat or a slap in the making, drawing out her daughter's tension, until Celeris ran out of patience and added: "Please, please, please!" The Blue Lady smiled under her veil, patted her daughter on the head like she would a well-behaved dragon and said: "Remember child, behaviour is everything. On the first sign of you running wild again, like you did in the kitchens yesterday my permission is rescinded." Celeris carefully made a blank face, which wasn't that difficult since she had not yet studied what rescinded meant, but her mother had said 'permission' and that translated to a 'Yes'. Not wanting to turn that yes into a no or whatever rescinded meant, the daughter backed away courteously until the next corner before she stormed off like a whirlwind towards the stables to tell her one and only secret friend who worked as a dragon handler there...

 

"You look happy, little orange," Henry the fifteen-year-old stable hand greeted her from the back of a Royal Blue he was scrubbing squeaky clean for the party. Celeris stuck her tongue out and playfully asked: "I am not a tiny tangerine or an itsi bitsi sunshine today?" Henry shook his head and dropped the brush he was holding in a sudden fit of laughter. Without a hint of fear, but a fair amount of pouting, Celeris climbed on the dragon's back too. There was no need to be afraid - every dragon that belonged to her mother was docile as a mouse, not daring to bare even half a fang towards a human. And they never made fun of her like that stable hand. "I am sorry my fiery phoenix", Henry went and apologized like always, before she could come up with a witty retort. "You are forgiven", Celeris beamed, eager to finally share the good news: "My mother allowed me to go to her party as long as I wear one of her costumes." Henry smiled at once, feeling genuinely happy for her, but what came out of his mouth was another tease: "I saw it already last night when I was searching for you after that mess you made in the kitchen. It is a Fluffy Pillow Dragon with blue dyed fur." "You are lying!" Celeris declared confidently because she had already seen the real one while looking for a hiding place after the kitchen disaster. "The costume is even more ridiculous than that, but I don't care, I am going to ditch it the first chance I get and wear MY costume!" Using the dragon's back as a step-ladder, Celeris climbed up onto the stable's hayloft and grabbed a red-painted stick-sword and a patched-up black cloak twice her size. Giggling in delight, Celeris dressed up and brandished her 'blade': "Get ready Dragon! Lady DEATH comes for you!" The Royal Blue below just rolled his eyes and flumped to the side after the little orange had jumped back onto his back for the 'kill'. Henry rolled his eyes too, for, now he had to scrub the dragon all over again...

Edited by Isirion

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Baffled by Isirion´s sudden confession Alzira was speechless, but only until he was trying to charge out of the door. "Don´t you think of leaving us behind now!", she was almost angry as she continued, "Things are in motion and probably have been for a while now. We need you and you need us to finish this task. Do you really think keeping us out of it now will stop the Nebs and whoever is hunting us later? I admit we aren´t battlehardened fighters and therefore vulnerable, but we still have a few skills we can use to our advantage. At least stay and calm down. Please!"

 

Sappo, who had watched the strange behavior of the humans for a while now, noticed Alzira´s wish to hinder Isirion´s flight. For the little dragon it looked like that - talking and then a sudden change namely heading for a door, an escape to leave the scene and situation and so he aimed and placed a blue flame between Isirion and the door. It was a warning shot, it would hardly keep the man from leaving but maybe it was enough to make him think about it.

 

Edited by Alzira

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Posted (edited)

Alzira's words made Isirion pause much more than the dragon flame. He let the half open door slip through his fingers and shut itself before turning around to find Pride on the verge of touching him. The ex-arenamaster, once again ignoring the meaning of personal space, made no motion or sound at all. He just stood right next to his long-time idol in silent support. Feelings of guilt were all too familiar to him as was feeling powerless. But while Pride had Felicia to lift him up and out of the pit of self-doubt, Isirion had to climb out all alone, living his life right on the edge and right now dangerously close to falling in again. Growing up with no emotional support whatsoever, forced to fight for his life so many times under inhuman conditions had only deepened the pit. Pride felt, that if Death fell into it this time, there would be no coming back unless there was someone to catch him. So he stood at the ready, whether his idol wanted him to or not. Finally Isirion's voice cut through the long, almost palpable silence: "My moment of weakness is over. Now move." After looking startled for a moment, Pride collected his courage and said: "Not until you admit something. Even though you can kill everyone of us in the blink of an eye, you can't kill your emotions and you certainly can't run from them forever. You caring for our safety is not a weakness, but a miracle just like those flames not singeing even a single hair on our heads when we were escaping Drake's base." "That was no miracle and I don't care if you get yourself killed, but my master does", Isirion replied angrily, before shoving Pride a few feet away. "If you don't want me to skin you alive like this dragon, you'll never speak of this again", Isirion added unrolling his Black dragon skin cloak for emphasis. Pride's eyes widened but his mouth was already talking again: "So you do care about that old soldier and I bet you care about Leal." Isirion threw his cloak on the floor and spat: "I swear if you utter even one more word on this topic it will be your last. It already feels like my brain is on fire and you are only adding fuel to the flames." Before Pride could say anything more to get himself killed, the door opened and Felicia entered with a big basket on her arm and an even bigger smile on her face: "I brought you some food before Isirion finds out my husband tastes like mutton." Both Pride and Isirion looked equally flustered and just like that the tension was gone. The savoury smell of fresh bread and chicken stew made even Fingers come closer. Felicia set the table and positioned herself next to Alzira. When every male in the room was busy munching, she leaned closer and whispered: "Good job keeping them in line while I was gone. You truly make a magnificent noble, too bad the nobles in this city aren't more like you. I snooped around a bit and it seems the Nebs believe your are still alive and helping my husband who is responsible for Hassleborough's death. There are posters everywhere saying he hired the assassin whose corpse they executed earlier today. Also there are rumours a horde of Black-Air-bandits used yesterday's chaos to do some scouting around since they have been seen flying awfully close to the city. The blue lady's party will be held as announced but they don't hire any new servants. The Blue Mansion is built like a fortress, so sneaking in instead seems impossible. If we go through with poisoning every noble, we need to do it during the party." Felicia paused a bit to eat some chicken stew herself then she continued: "I hope it is not true, but I heard Hassleborough's daughter will come taking the place of her late father and there is no telling how many other nobles will bring their children because of it. I don't want the blood of a child on my hands, so we need to poison every noble's goblet per hand. And there is still the chance they have personal food testers. It is like every odd is stacked against us, so we need to reconsider the plan once again."

Edited by Isirion

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Alzira turned to Felicia, talking to her in a hushed voice: "Thanks for the credit, but I´ve done hardly anything. As for your news: We´ve already considered something like this happening - doesn´t mean I like it," she added. After a short pause she continued thoughtfully: "I really didn´t consider kids attending such a feast. I never liked festivities of that kind, being a puppet presented to the amusement of the crowd, but what can a child do... For that matter, how old is his daughter, shall we recon her a threat?  ...  Considering the power she holds she will be anyway." The Lady paused again. After a few bites she turned to Felicia again: "Thanks for the meal by the way. This was literally a lifesaver."

 

When the munching had receded a bit she addressed the group: "So, recapitulating: we have a way in, we have a possible diversion but administering the concoction the previous way won´t work anymore. Let´s put all our ideas in the open. It doesn´t matter how silly they sound, but nevertheless we might find a new angle to our problem. Just for starters: I have the spark of an idea, we could ask the pygmies for help: Since they are swarming everywhere they could deliver the poison directly to the nobles' glasses unseen. Although, personally I hope we can get the children out of there beforehand. Now, tell me your sparks!" She looked around, hoping her over the top idea ignited a few more.

 

Sappo had been listening and he thought that this wasn´t such a bad idea. Leal was already organising a swarm to feed the hungry dragons, they wouldn´t even need much instruction. There wasn´t such a difference - delivering food and delivering another kind of food. Maybe a bigger diversion would help... He sat on Alzira´s shoulder, and while she was still talking he took a bit of meat out of her dish and let it slip into her glass.

 

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"Poison?", Pride asked with big round eyes. "Why are we talking about poison?" Felicia reached over and patted her husband's head, while trying to come up with a convincing half-truth. Isirion however went full-truth right away: "Pride, we are going to poison all the guests at the party because alone I can't kill them all before the guards sound the alarm." Pride's eyes grew larger as he pieced something together: "So that's why Felicia sent me away earlier. She thought I couldn't take it and she was right. If I knew, I would have drunk even more. And this plan now threatens the life of children? We can't go through with it." Felicia sighed deeply. The cat was out of the bag, but at least her husband hadn't asked where the poison came from - yet. Pride looked left and right for support and to his utter surprise Fingers spoke up: "I...I also think you shouldn't do it. It's wrong. Once they are dead they can never change, can never come back - just like my guild." Pride looked grateful towards the wretched-looking beggar, but Felicia was suddenly furious: "Why does it matter how they die? Wasn't it your idea in the first place to eradicate them all so that a better kind of government for the people and the dragons can take over? Why is poisoning a corrupted noble any less noble than letting Death stab them to death?" For once at loss for words, Pride remained silent and took another bite. Why did it make a difference? In the end they would be dead, but the beggar was right - it felt just wrong. After taking another bite the ex-arenamaster finally found the words he had been looking for: "It's because villainous humans should be punished by other humans, not by a mindless poison. If we do that we are no better than the Nebs who used starving dragons and called it justice." Felicia opened her mouth to protest, but Pride foresaw the obvious argument: "I know that we are not villains, but from the perspective of the Nebs we are because we are threatening their way of life. For them killing people like us is justice. A justice they heavily profit from, but justice nonetheless. My head was full of dreams of a better world without those nobles, but every future built on their corpses will be rotten from the beginning. Change, not kill them is what we must do. Change like a caterpillar into butterfly." Ever practical, Felicia gave Pride a kiss for his epic speech and immediately asked: "How do we change those nobles?" Also practical, Isirion asked with a frown: "And what about those nobles who refuse to change?" Pride smiled brightly, new ideas forming in his head: "Oh, those we will change into corpses, but the majority will want to change because we take their power from them. We will free all the dragons in the city, not only a few pygmies and caged Royal Blues. The blue lady has bred and trained almost all Nebulas in the city - if we kidnap her instead of killing her we can use her influence over them to support us. With the patrol dragons on our side too the nobles will have to listen to us." "I love this plan", Felicia exclaimed and kissed her husband all over. After that she stood up like a queen and said: "Now, be a good boy and sort out all the details of that new new new version of your plan, while I am going to take that bath I was looking forward to for ages now." Pride watched his wife disappear into the next room, then he glanced around sheepishly and said: "Uhhm. Let's plan - again?"

 

Meanwhile in the endless desert

 

By now the abandonend Sunstone-bandit lair had been turned into a war camp. Sentry wyverns had been posted at strategic points, underground entry routes had been collapsed and the bulk of the Hellfire army staying with Sodger had hidden themselves with the dune-blankets ready to ambush whomever was coming. The grey haired ex-captain of the Royal Blue called each of the non-hidden Hellfires to him and conversed with them for a few minutes. Each dragon he talked to, verbally expressed their support to the blind old man with the weather-worn face before returning to their post. They saw in his ox-like build and well muscled arms and legs, that, just like them he had trained his whole life and deeply respected him for that. Without his vision for the future they would be ordinary wyverns, not the pinnacle of their species and so each and every one of them had answered 'Yes', when he had asked them if they were ready to wage war...

Edited by Isirion

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Somewhere in the Endless Desert
 

Iris and Shade had been scouting the desert for any signs of the host of Hellfire Wyverns, which the pair doubted would be very easy to conceal in the harsh desert environment. Iris took out a piece of jerky and nibbled it, shifting the hard mask she used to protect her mouth and nose from sand, just enough to get the jerky into her mouth and take a swig from her canteen to wash the dried meat down. Once she had finished her snack she took her spyglass out and continued searching for any signs of movement, camps or recent passing of large numbers of dragons.

 

The search continued for quite a while and Iris' canteen had started to feel quite light when she spotted a group of hellfire dragons convening with a man, a strange sight indeed to see in the desert and exactly what she had been searching for. Settling on a sand dune, far enough to hopefully not be spotted but close enough to make out fine details with the spyglass, Iris took out her sketching supplies and on the first page made a sketch of the encampment with all the things she could see without entering the lair itself, then she made a more detailed sketch of the man himself: He had a weather-worn face, hair as grey as a storm and more muscles than any ordinary individual had the right to have, making Iris think he must have been some kind of fighting man, possibly even military, not like those useless nebs though, a true combatant. Then when she got a good look at his face she was surprised, he didn't seem to be able to see at all, but yet it seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing even without needing to see. She finished the drawing of him and grinned at her work, but her grin soon faded as she got up and began scouting the perimeter by foot, trying to avoid any eyes and get a sense for their numbers and layout, hoping as she did so, that she would not be spotted by those very eyes she was attempting to avoid.

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The sentries were none the wiser when Iris sneaked past, using her liver of sulphur coloured bodysuit blending in better than she hoped. Iris also noticed that the sentries did not scan the ground level as much as the sky and that could only mean they were on the look out for other dragons. One or two of the sentries occasionally did direct his or her gaze towards the ground, never the dunes, but always mindful of the impressive figure striding among them. As far as Iris could tell without risiking her scent alert the sentries after all, the camp encompassed three or four dunes, some of them shifting oddly, for a total length of at least 600 yards to each side of a rough scare. Tales about how certain bandits managed to hide from sight at day came to Iris' mind and she watched the moving dunes until she was sure they were in fact more dragons - hiding beneath dune coloured blankets. That smelled like preparations for an ambush, but if the city was their target, why set it here? Iris decided that this question and the information she had gathered were best presented to the Hive Queen as soon as possible. Hoping the shifting sands would cover the few tracks she had left, Iris rejoined with Shade and instructed her to fly back to the hive as fast as possible.

 

Meanwhile at a certain tavern in the big city

 

The re-planning did not go well. Without Felicia's level-headed leadership Pride's idealistic views clashed again and again with Isirion's practicality. The latter was close to fuming, all but yelling: "I know that I was the one that said, that the Nebula Wyverns would obey whoever rides them, but that does not mean, you can just walk up to them, mount up and talk them into a rebellion. Have you looked outside the window lately? All the patrol towers are on high alert and they patrol in tight groups. You'll get your self killed even before I can strangle you for your stupidity." Pride looked hurt, but not surprised - without his charming wife around, Isirion's poor conversation skills had degraded even further, and more and more outbursts of his foul and fiery temper kept adding to the volatile situation. Fingers had long retreated into the farthest corner, his only input to the new-new-new plan, that he couldn't very well open every dragon cage in the city all alone. In an attempt to salvage at least part of his plan, Pride offered: "You don't have to free every dragon yourself - each one you free can help with the next and the next and so on." *Slam*, not believing the extent of Pride's delusion, Isirion slammed his fist on the table, causing the plates and cutlery to clatter and the lone-candle stick to fall. His eyes fully focused on Pride while lecturing him about how a bunch of freed dragons was the opposite of the stealth necessary for this endeavour, he did not notice that the flame of the fallen candle flared up around his fist as if it too was angry about something...

Edited by Isirion

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Posted (edited)

Alzira didn´t know what to do. Those two pig-heads were still at each other´s throats. Luckily just by means of the volume of their argument. She thought hard about how to get them to calm down and back to the even harder topic of overthrowing the existing hierarchy at the ball. The sudden slam and following clatter made her literally jump. That was it, or so she thought, not quite sure she saw right. She stared at his unharmed but still flaring hand. She stuttered:" Isirion, your... your ...!" Sappo was eying the flames curiously. That was new - usually humans and almost everything burn but not like this. He came closer, just a breath away to touch the limb engulfed in flame. He had to try, he spew a little blue flame at it, just to be sure.
Sappo´s action convinced Alzira that she saw right and this wasn´t a trick. Their escape still fresh in her mind she put one and one together and concluded that Isirion definitely had some form of control over fire. How was that possible? "So thats how you managed to save us. How do you do that?", she asked him pointing at his hand. "Why doesn´t the fire sear you?

 

Edited by Alzira

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