“Do you ever fly?”

She had asked for a longer talk, and Dhíanvhúr had transported her spirit to where he was. At least, that was how he had explained it.

“Not for a long time.”

She looked at the folded appendages along his back, trying to discern any injury.

“Are your wings broken?”

Dhíanvhúr spread them out in their full glory, and she looked at the pristine white feathers with awe.

“They're perfectly well.”

“So, what's the problem?”

The dragon hesitated, lifting his mighty head, pensively. He looked up at the cavern ceiling, almost as if to stare through it at the sky outside. Then he dropped his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

“I cannot leave this place.”

“Are you trapped here?”

“Yes.”

Saelina tried to wrap her head around the idea of something or someone being able to keep a dragon trapped; it seemed nigh impossible .

“Is it another dragon, keeping you here?”

A deep rumble sounded from the beast, something like a 'hmm', Saelina guessed.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“When did you last eat?”

Dhíanvhúr lay his head back down on the dungeon floor, observing her with something resembling interest.

“We can subsist for decades through our magic.”

“You don't need water?”

He nudged his head in her direction and she looked behind to find a small cave pool, reflecting the glow of crystals, which illuminated the cavern, while hanging from the ceiling.

“I see.”

She fell silent for a moment, until another thought struck her.

“What do dragons actually eat?”

“Blood.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, while unsure what answer she had expected.

“I can't imagine there's any creature with enough blood to satisfy a dragon.”

“They are few and far between, it's true. We make do with lesser creatures.”

The urge to ask the obvious was too much to ignore.

“Do dragons ever drink human blood? Or nyxan blood, for that matter?”

“It happens. But your kind is not our preferred prey. Your woefully limited blood-supply would necessitate an exorbitant death toll.”

She could see the logic and felt some relief. She observed the dragon for a few moments, finding herself drawn to the blue eyes which remained lazily focused on her. No matter how often she saw them, their sapphire hue always seemed evoke to something deep inside her soul, like seeing the ocean after years without it.

“Do you still hate me?”

There was another pause, as the dragon ruminated on the question.

“I do not. You were chosen and I must respect the decision.”

“But you don't like me.”

Dhíanvhúr did not answer, whether because he did not disagree or because it did not matter, she knew not.

“Why haven't you rescinded your powers? I know you could do so, if you wanted.”

“This is not a simple matter, red one. You don't understand what you ask because you don't yet grasp the full extent of what you were given.”

“Then explain it to me!”

“I won't.”

He growled and flicked his ears, before narrowing his gaze at her.

“I do not exist to satisfy your curiosity. If you want answers, then seek them!”

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She was about to give a sharp reply but stopped herself and took a deep breath, trying to look beyond the spoken words.

“You're right. And I will.”

The blue eyes widened and his head inched closer to her.

“I know you didn't choose to be tied to me. That doesn't mean I regret that it happened. I would like to work with you.”

She met his gaze, earnestly, patiently waiting as he studied her.

“It'll take time, red one.”

She nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show. The dragon's gaze took on a softer quality.

“You show patience. It is an exceptional skill, one few mortals possess. I know it came at a high cost. Do not dismiss what you've learned, even if under unpleasant circumstances.”

Saelina could feel the pull of her body and she sighed as she gave another nod before giving in and letting herself float away from the mighty creature and settle back into her mortal shell. She opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling above her; it was daylight outside, and she felt well-rested and calm.

She left her bed and got dressed. The big house meant that she spent most of her days in quiet peace, and she was growing attached to the more extravagant furnishings in her room. Even so, a part of her was waiting, ready for the day something pulled her away from it all, dropped her on the street or in another country, to fend for herself, yet again.

She finished up and left, heading for the study where Haylen Sethaernan spent most of his time; she knocked politely and waited until she was given permission to enter.

Ezeas' father was sitting in his chair, looking up from some documents in his hands.

“Miss Saelina, to what do I owe the visit?”

“I was wondering if you had any books on nyxis history or culture? I figure I should spend my free time learning what I can.”

Haylen paused for a moment, perusing his collection along the walls; he gestured to the cases on his left.

“The section in the middle contains a few volumes in Lissónese, detailing the various battles and political clashes, dating before the Exile, when our people was driven from Nyxal.”

Saelina made her way to the books, looking over the strange writings with curiosity. She stumbled upon words she recognized and picked out the books, looking over the simple covers. Ezeas' father had returned his attention to the papers he held, and she was about to leave him to it, when she noticed a strange rock in one of the display cases. Looking closer, she realized it was a small block of ice containing a spider.

At least, she thought it was a spider, as it certainly looked the part, except for a pair of delicate wings which grew from its prosoma, easily spanning two hand widths. The see-through material had a soft, green color, with a strange black pattern on it. The spider's body was covered in thick fur, with bright orange, red and pink markings; it looked like a tiny fairy-tale creature, frozen mid-flight.

“Ezeas brought that back from the Frozen Plains. A winged spider, encased in ever-ice; quite remarkable.”

Haylen was standing next to her, gazing fondly at the souvenir.

“How does it stay frozen?” Saelina asked, filled with genuine wonder.

“The magic which caused the calamity has had a strange effect on everything it touched. I've spent hours trying to duplicate or at the very least unlock its strange secrets. As you can imagine, my luck has been very limited.”

Saelina listened, intently, while observing every detail, trying to commit it to memory. The strangeness of the creature had her spellbound and she was reluctant to withdraw from it.

“Was it something you asked him to bring?”

“Oh, no, Ezeas has always had a habit of bringing home strange and exciting finds, ever since he was a young boy.”

The older man gestured towards a model of some type of ship, evidently not suited for sailing. Saelina glanced at it, then gasped.

“That's the airship from Tellaras!”

She walked over and stared at it, noting the incredible amount of detail on the small replica.

“My fa-...Maxcom saw it docked during one of his travels. When he came back home, he regaled us for weeks with tales about the exquisite design and high maneuverability in the air.”

Haylen nodded in agreement.

“A very impressive piece of engineering. I remember how excited Ezeas was when he came back from it. Tiyala had brought him and his older sister along for a diplomatic visit. It took place on the airship.”

“Does he still bring you things from his trips?”

“Not as much.”

She noticed a sad tone in his voice and turned her attention to him; his countenance was still calm and friendly, but his eyes carried a certain melancholy.

“Ever since he entered the high councilor's personal forces, there's been a lot of changes.”

“You don't sound too thrilled about it,” Saelina commented, cautiously.

Haylen went to the window, as if it was easier to talk, when not facing her.

“I'm always proud of my children's accomplishments. However, I know my mother and I know the effect she has on people.”

He took a deep breath.

“As a leader and lawmaker, she's formidable, often achieving whatever she promises in short order. But her efficiency is born from a deep ruthlessness.

“If she lost most of the nyxan population but won the war, she'd call it a victory and celebrate it to the public.”

Saelina felt a familiar malaise at the description.

“But Essy isn't that ruthless, is he?”

“No...not yet.”

The man's shoulders were slightly slumped, and he had his arms folded across his chest.

“Ezeas often listened to Niranne's tales about the nyxis of old. He admired her, while growing up, and to this day she is the inspiration for the great love and devotion he carries for Islasa.”

“She really has that much influence over him?”

“Not yet. He's still willing to challenge her when their ideals don't align, but I know that my mother is slowly but surely working that habit out of him.”

Saelina shook her head.

“I would ask if you don't trust in the man you've raised but I, of all people, have changed under other people's influence so often, I don't think there's anything left of whom I was.”

She lowered her voice, glancing at the many treasures around the room.

“It would be sad if that happened to Essy.”

“I can't control what my son does,” Haylen said.

“But I can warn you. Be cautious around Niranne Sethaernan. While she's not malicious, there's nothing she won't do, if she thinks it's in Islasa's best interest or that it will secure her rule.”

Saelina looked at the airship model, again wondering if the excitable boy who had brought it back as a present for his father was truly the same man who inspired such mixed feelings in her.