Cassandra Pendragon

Lugging several barrels of mead even across a short distance was a challenge all on its own. I hadn’t wanted to cheap out, consequentially it had taken me several trips, some hasty explanations and a colourful lecture until I finally got back to the dragons, sweating and out of breath. Ahri had willingly accompanied me, but when it had come to ferrying a wagonload of booze across the island, she had chickened out. Not that I blamed her. At least she had carried a couple of mugs for us, assuming the reptiles would drink directly from the barrels.

Now I was standing in a clearing, close to the edge of the woods, Ahri on my right, Viyara on my left and my mom around my neck while a wall of golden scales and white fangs towered in front of us, eyes closed as he savoured the scent of the sweet beverage.

“Magnificent, they are terribly rude but a dwarven brew is still the pinnacle of short lived societies. Before we begin, I have a question, though. Why are you facing me like an army across a battlefield? Do you expect a fight?” My tongue was a tad faster than my brain.

“Yes,” my mom’s claws in my shoulder and Ahri’s elbow in my ribs brought me back on track. “Uh, I mean, I’m sorry but after the last few days I have trouble imagining a different outcome. It’s been rough. Please, let’s drink. If it becomes necessary, we can still rip each other to shreds afterwards.” Alright, that had been only incrementally better but Ignus didn’t seem offended. On the contrary, he produced a sound that was similar to a deep, humanoid belly laugh and replied, his tentacles quivering with mirth:

“I like your priorities. Well then, why don’t we agree to let one another live, at least until the mead is gone? It would be a waste if we were to spoil it with a useless struggle.” I exhaled deeply, glad he had a sense of humour. He couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Maybe you should do the talking from now on,” I whispered in Ahri’s direction while I worked my wings to roll one of the barrels towards Ignus and remove the lid.

“It has worked out so far,” she replied and filled two mugs. After she had handed me one, I raised it and said: “to Viyara and her father. May the memories of him never be forgotten and may she flourish in his stead.” I had tried to avoid using Shafeer’s name, I still wasn’t sure if dragons refrained from using the names of the dead, but better safe than sorry. One blunder was more than enough for the first few minutes of a conversation.

Ahri and Ignus echoed my words and we drank. For a few seconds all I heard was a loud, gurgling sound while the dragons each took a barrel between their jaws and emptied it by raising their heads. The empty casks they dropped unceremoniously to the ground afterwards.

“Ah, it’s been a while…” Ignus said while he smacked his lips. “It’s good to see that the basic rules of hospitality are still honoured around here. Now then, while you have been labouring for our comfort I had time to think and examine my grandchild more closely. Parts of what she said and what I’ve seen now begin to make sense. I came here, fully prepared to free her from the clutches of whatever she had stumbled into but instead I find her hearty and whole with a bunch of dwarfs and kitsune. And you two. Who are you and what is that animal on your shoulder?”

I shared a look with Ahri and my mother. We hadn’t talked about how many secrets we wanted to keep but the shrug I received from both sides told me that none of us had a problem with the truth. And somehow it had fallen to me to decide how much of it we were going to divulge.

“The second question can easily be answered, that’s my mother. She can’t talk yet, but nodding and shrugging are well within her capabilities. Scratching too, but I don’t think that matters right now. As for who we are… refugees. We’ve lost our home to the same sorcerer who orchestrated the attack on your son’s lair. The children you’ve seen in our camp had been taken and Viyara stumbled across us when we freed them, Galathon hot on her tail. I imagined you’ve already heard the rest.”

“I did. Maybe I haven’t asked precisely enough. How could you, a young kitsune, fight off a grown dragon and live to tell the tale? How could you change my granddaughter’s nature on accident? What are you?” I didn’t mind telling him, but that was just condescending,

“Don’t you already know? If you understand what has happened to her, you’ll already have guessed, even if she hasn’t spelled it out for you. We are,” I included Ahri with a nod, “reborn members of an ancient race. A part of me has seen suns ignite and fade away and I’ve promised Viyara to stay by her side until she no longer needs me. Whatever. Happens. That includes you and any other dragons who believe they can take her away against her will. Let me be very clear: that’s not going to happen. And now I’d kindly like to know who you are and where you’ve been when she needed you the most. She and your son.” Oh, oh, I meant it, but still…

He narrowed his eyes, flashes of light ran along the tentacles under his jaw and a reverberating growl, I could even feel echoing through the earth, pressed against my eardrums. Smoke welled up from his nostrils, his muscles twitched beneath his golden armour and I felt certain I’d gone too far. A little modesty, Cassandra, just a little. You didn’t have to rub his nose in your defiance. Dragons, and nearly everybody else for that matter, didn’t appreciate being challenged. Admittedly, I hated being looked down upon but that was no excuse. This fight, if one broke out, would be on me and I better made sure that no one else would get hurt.

The constant hum from my wings intensified and I could see silvery patches of light dance in front of me as I pulled more energy from my core. I took a gliding strap forward until I was directly between Ignus and the others, a halo of power crackling behind me. It had never been my intention to start a duel, but I sure as hell would finish it, before I had another reason to regret my words.

“The mead’s not gone,” Ahri’s silky voice was trembling with anxiety but she still reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, while Viyara seemed completely frozen. “Please, don’t…” she added in a barely audible whisper.

“I won’t let anyone insinuate that I let my family down, whoever they are,” Ignus roared, a blazing tongue of flame erupting from his gullet. To my surprise, he hadn’t aimed at us but released his fire into the sky, a roaring pillar of light and heat. Hot air washed over me and the smell of molten gold became stronger by the second. Still, we were unscathed because he hadn’t wanted to incinerate us. Maybe we could still go back.

“That wasn’t my intention and I apologise. I should have chosen my words more carefully. Please, forgive me. But I won’t be bullied into quiet obedience. I told you truthfully who we are and I think we have just the same right as you to know who we are dealing with. Especially if you’ve come to claim Viyara as one of your own, I’ll have some answers, otherwise we might as well continue what we’ve started.” The growl slowly subsided but the lingering tingle of magic in the air didn’t vanish. He kept glowering at me with an intensity that easily conveyed just how thin the ice under me truly was. I felt my mom loosen her tails around me, ready to jump to safety or towards his eyes, depending on the situation, but then he laughed again, the same full, infectious sound as before.

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“You’ve got the fire and the mettle, I’ll give you that and it even seems like you can back it up. Apology accepted. For a two legged creature you aren’t half bad. You aren’t a transformed dragoness as well, are you?” With a lightning quick strike his long neck whipped forward and he snatched another barrel, easily evading my wings. He sat back on his haunches and skilfully opened it with his tongue but the message was clear. That could have been my head.

I swallowed dryly and sent a trickle of energy to my eyes and brain, just in case, before I answered: “I’ve been asked before, but no, not that I’m aware of, at least. Would that change anything?”

“A lot, actually. I would have much less trouble with thinking of you as anything more than a mouthful, for one. Also, you could shield Viyara with your name until she can forge one for herself.” He paused and the thrum of his magic disappeared. I took a step back and folded my wings neatly against my back. Like a summer storm, the tension passed and I heard Ahri’s relieved sigh while Viyara relaxed. Still, I felt her shuffle closer to my side. “I imagine that means nothing to either of you, so allow me to explain.” He emptied his second cask and belched a cloud of smoke.

“Draconic society, if you can even call it that, isn’t structured by blood ties or origin, those things tend to become insignificant when you count your age in hundreds or even thousands of years. No, we live by our word, our promises, something you should be familiar with. Those bonds are tied to our names and what you would call a family, are the ones we allow to share in it. My son, for instance, carried my name long into his 9th century, a shield, woven from the promises I had gathered over the course of my life. Now, whatever the reason, he didn’t imprint his legacy on either you, Viyara, or his wives and everything he was, the connections he had made, died with him. I can speculate as well as you, maybe a bit better since I know how he stood with some of the others, why he chose not to, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Viyara, as far as dragons are concerned, you’re truly alone, a valuable outlaw, ripe for the picking. I’ve come here to take you under my wing and rectify that, but only if you’re willing.”

“Great, now I feel like an ignorant jerk,” I mumbled. But obviously not quietly enough.

“You are,” Ignus replied, “but then again, so are we all. It should be clear by now though, why I’m so insistent on knowing who and what you are. In a way you’ve already made my grandchild a part of your family, a bond that weighs more heavy than a connection of blood and I’m old enough to know that she won’t willingly break it.” He paused and pointedly looked at the remaining casks.

I obliged and he downed it just as quickly as the last one before he continued:

“Everything else aside, there are four options: Viyara can forge her own name, you can do it in her stead and she can decide to carry it, she can choose mine or we can leave things as they are. All of them come with their own set of problems but in the end,” he moved his head to loom above Viyara: “it’s your decision, yours alone.” And then it clicked.

Dragons… a long lived species… several of theirs must have been around during the Cataclysm, even before, maybe even during Amon’s first rise to power. They knew, at least some of them had to, but they didn’t care. And the child whose grandfather was one of the oldest creatures I had met had crashed into my life by happenstance. Better yet, in her blood she carried the key for their species to evolve, a precious secret, and again, by sheer coincidence, I had mixed it with my own power. In the end, I had gained a friend who could make them care, through her existence alone. And now, as if the invisible hand of fate was at play, she might even declare her allegiance in a way no dragon could reject. Had every encounter I had had been meticulously planned? Damn it to hell, I already knew what she was going to say.

“This is all new to me,” Viyara included all of us in her telepathy, which lead me to sense my mom’s mind for the first time, even though it was just an echo. It felt… wild, untamed, even dangerous in a way but there was also compassion and kindness, a glowing spark of warmth beneath a churning sea. For a moment I wondered why nobody had given her an artefact that would allow her to communicate telepathically instead of her parchment, but I imagined that it most likely couldn’t be done. Telepathy wasn’t exactly the same as magic and maybe it followed slightly different rules. Like the communication crystals, they needed a focus as well, a counterpart to connect to, but they didn’t link people mind to mind. I’d have to ask. Focus…

“I’ve never heard of you or the importance of names before. A draconic society? I thought we were loners, tied to nothing and no one. And if blood ties don’t matter, why are you even here? I’d truly like to get to know you and I’ve got many questions, what the forging of a name is, for instance. But I’m not going to leave the people who took me in and became my friends… maybe even my family to become part of a community who’ll either try to exploit who I am or are too afraid of you to touch me. My life in father’s lair has ended and I’ve already taken the first steps towards a new one. I’m not going to give that up.”

“I expected as much.” Ignus thoughts felt old, slow and powerful, like a stream of magma that carried the earth on its back. “But you might change your mind after I’ve answered your questions. You’re right, for the most part, dragons don’t enjoy each other’s company. There are exceptions but they are usually tied to a single hoard or lair, like your family, for example. We are still one people, though, and since we usually reach an immense age, we tend to meet every once in a while. A name is a way to keep track, to record your history, your deeds but also your shortcomings over a long life. It’s a sign that you’ve begun to live on your own terms and are ready to face the consequence without anyone sheltering you. Consequentially its creation is also a trial where you have to proof your worth and your ability to fly on your own. The forging itself is a secret kept by the oldest member of our race, if he deems you ready, he’ll help you craft it. In essence it’s an enchantment attached to your very soul, but the symbolism is far more important. Without it, you’re just… cattle.” He paused and I obediently provided another barrel for his bottomless stomach. I hadn’t even finished my first mug.

“As for why I care… I made you. I provided the knowledge my son needed to succeed. You’re as much a child of my genius as you are of his body. You’re the pinnacle of my studies and the living proof that I was right. For that reason alone I’d want to keep you safe. But I also know you far better than you think, you might have met me today for the first time, but I’ve seen you on quite a few occasions before.” His skin began to glow, but not with the golden light that always engulfed Viyara when she transformed, it was a series of spells that slowly spread and changed his flesh.

His wings disappeared, his tail vanished and his forelegs turned into arms while he shrank until he was smaller than me. A hunchbacked, toothless human grinned at us over wire rimmed glasses. I had never seen him before in my life, but…

“You’re one of the slaves… but you died, years ago,” Viyara murmured.

“Not precisely but I had to take my leave. My son never knew that I lived in his lair for the better part of 2 years,” he said in a slightly wheezy voice. “I wasn’t willing to risk discovery but I had a friend of mine stay with you until the end. And a good thing I did, since Barzuk saved all of you if I’m not mistaken. He informed me as soon as Galathon appeared and I told him to keep my existence a secret when we spoke again after your return. Otherwise, if you had been captured again, it would have been known that I was approaching. But when I arrived, you were already gone. Of course I remembered the strange companion he had told me about, but I’d never have imagined that you were saved by an immortal who graced you with her blessing.”