“Glacia, take a break until I return,” Guinevere said to the other adult.

“Oh, okay,” the light blue dragoness replied. “In that case, I'll go to the puddle and store more water in the meantime. I'll be back later!” Glacia waved one of her large back fins in farewell to the three of them before leaving.

The fairy type then beckoned the juveniles toward her tree. She flitted on her four glowing wings into the mouth of its hollow. Gretel created a wind that she glided upon to join Guinevere inside. Gadalik instinctively spread his small earth dragon wings, then hesitated and looked over his shoulder at them solemnly. I'm not a pure seer… Or a pure mountain dragon, even if my wings are remnants of theirs. I'm an earth dragon–and earth types can't fly…

“Can you make it?” the wyvern called out to her friend.

“I did carry him up here before, but he was still a hatchling back then. I fear he's grown too heavy for me to lift anymore,” Guinevere said, and Gadalik saw her neutral pink glow shift to a sorrowful blue.

Gretel’s winds couldn't carry me when we first met, either, despite trying to help me fly, he recalled. Then he shook his head. If a pure earth dragon can manage without flight, so can I. The young green dragon remembered how he'd climbed out of the ‘puddle’ he'd dug for Glacia on his own. Then he moved to the tree and extended his claws into its bark. His rough paw pads helped him maintain his grip as he climbed up carefully at first, then faster as he gained more confidence. Before he knew it, he pulled himself into the hollow with a proud grin.

Gretel whooped and Guinevere's wings flashed orange. “Great job,” the latter praised him. “Now everyone, get comfortable.”

Gadalik glanced around; it was sheltered from the sun’s heat and light, but the glow of Guinevere's wings illuminated the dim interior enough for them to see. There were large leaves along one side of the space, and herbs from her garden stacked neatly on the other side, next to sticks that were wrapped in spiderwebs, and a few small bones from prey.

The moss-covered floor was soft, and the pale blue fairy dragoness lied down on it, tucking her white paws under the pink fur of her belly. Gretel settled in front of the adult, and Gadalik stayed out of the way perpendicular to them.

“Let me know when you're ready,” Guinevere told the young wind type.

“What exactly will you do? I mean, I've been hypnotized before by a different fairy type, and it… wasn't a friendly encounter. They made me see some pretty scary stuff to make me leave,” Gretel said.

“Rest assured I do not intend to scare you with false imagery; I will only show you what you tell me. My influence over your senses can help you remember things more clearly. You can then tell me if I get any sensory inputs wrong, and I will adjust them until they feel right. Once everything is accurate, the process will repeat based on what else any memories you regain after it,” she explained. “If at any point you wish to stop, simply let me know, and I will end our session.”

The juveniles exchanged a look. “She has hypnotized me before, when we first met,” Gadalik said. “She showed me a scene of my parents. I trust her.”

Gretel sighed. “That’s fine, but I don't really know where to start.”

“I sensed your dejection during yesterday's talks of societies. Is that related to what you may have repressed?”

“I… I think so. I don't remember being in a society, but I do remember what societies are like. Well, actually, no… not societies. Just one society.”

“Do you know which dragon type that society was made of?”

“No...”

“Alright. Then that's where we can start. Tell me more about the society itself. Anything at all that you can remember will help.”

Gretel tensed, her tail-tip twitching anxiously.

“Relax. Focus on my wings and let your mind open up. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. I'm ready.”

The fairy dragoness spread her insect-like wings and shifted the colors of their glow in a deliberate pattern. Gadalik watched as it reflected in his friend’s hot pink eyes and she visibly calmed down.

“I remember that it was… open. I was able to fly around as much as I wanted. I remember a tree, and… Wait, no, there were multiple trees. There was a storm, and… No–that isn't right. I think I'm mixed up…”

“Take your time, there is no need to rush this,” she murmured. “If the society itself was in an open space, the trees may be a separate area near it. Does that look right?”

“Hm… It was grassy, but the open space also had big rocks in it. Kind of like where Gadalik and I hang out.”

“I see. How is this?”

“Yeah! And then there were flowers here and there. All that's missing are the dragons.”

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“Do you remember anything about the dragons? Their sounds, for example?”

“I remember… singing. Err, no–they hated singing. I was the one singing, not them.”

“Oh? Dragons that dislike singing may have sensitive hearing. Perhaps they were one of the few dragon types that have ears?”

“I can't remember,” Gretel muttered, but frustrated. Then she gave it some thought and smiled slightly. “But they didn't all hate my singing… There was someone who liked it.”

“I see. What can you remember about that specific someone?”

“Um…” She fidgeted, and her face scrunched. “I can't remember anything about him…”

“Him? So it was a male. Do not stress over him right now–let's focus on the scenery again. Do you recall any area you may have spent time together in?”

“Uh… I was… in a tree, and I was singing in it as it creaked.”

“Creaked?”

“Yeah–like that. But the creaking was kind of drowned out by another sound.”

“Wind, perhaps?”

“Well, yes, but not just wind… There was… like, a beat. I was singing to it.”

“A beat… like raindrops?” Guinevere asked.

“Yes–I remember now! It was storming–rain, wind, the tree being blown with me on its branch,” Gretel recalled. “I was singing along to the sounds of the storm because I was happy.”

“That's great. Is this right?”

“Yep–perfect!”

“Do you remember why you were happy?”

“No, not really. But I'm usually happy, so it's hard to pinpoint a reason for this specific instance.”

“That’s alright. So what happened next?”

“Gadalik came up to the tree and said he liked my singing.”

“Me?” The hybrid blinked. “I do like your singing, but don't remember any of that.”

Gretel frowned. “Huh…?”

Gadalik thought back to the last time they hung out. “You told me yesterday that you remembered me from a long time ago, even though we've only met last spring.”

“That's true,” his friend said, scrunching her face up. “I don't know why I remember you being there. I was young–a hatchling. You and I didn't meet until I'd just become a yearling.”

“Perhaps Gadalik and this male dragon have similar traits?” Guinevere guessed.

“I really can't remember any physical traits… I just know that what he said reminds me of Gadalik. They're both nice.”

“Ah. What kinds of things would he say?”

“Well, he said he liked my singing… and he asked me to teach him.”

“Interesting. Usually only wind type dragons sing. But wind dragons do not live in societies.”

“No–I don't think he was a wind type. Wind types don't need to be taught how to sing, anyway.”

“Taught?” Gadalik echoed. He recalled the explanation they had given him about the difference between the two natures–solitary, and social–that dragon types innately had. “You told me solitary dragons don't need to be taught anything. Social dragons do need to be taught things–and only social dragons have societies, right?”

“Yeah. But… he was different. He was alone–and so was I. For a long time it was just the two of us,” Gretel reminisced with a genuine smile.

“Perhaps nurture played a part, then? He could be a social dragon who chose to live a solitary life–like Glacia.”

“No… Well, yes–but it wasn't his choice. He was stuck.”

“Stuck?” Guinevere repeated. “How so?”

“That tree… no–the trees. The forest location is wrong,” she told the fairy type. “The forest was below the open space–not beside it.”

“Alright. Is this better?”

“That looks right, but it was farther down. The open space was like a tall plateau.” There was a pause. “Taller… Perfect!”

Guinevere smiled slightly. “Can you tell me more about how he was stuck?”

“He couldn't fly up the plateau. He was stuck in the forest alone until I rested on the tree. The storm had made it too hard to travel, so I was happy when I saw the island, and chose to wait it out in that tree.”

Things are starting to add up, Gadalik thought with a glimmer of hope. “So he couldn't fly, either? Is that another trait he shared with me?”

“Oh–you're right! Yeah, he was just like you.”

“Was he a hybrid?” the other dragoness asked.

“I don't think so? Gadalik was the first hybrid I've ever seen.”

“Did he have wings?”

“I can't remember…” Once again the corners of the wyvern’s mouth dropped. “Ugh, why am I struggling with him in particular?”

“It's alright. Calm yourself. Let's go over what we know: he's a social dragon that cannot fly, and–”

“Wait! He could fly,” Gretel corrected her, but she didn't seem happy about that.

“Oh…?”

“He couldn't fly at first, but then…” Her eyes watered and she shook her head. “He… I…” Her breathing became shaky with distress.

“Do you wish to stop?” Guinevere murmured.

“I don't know… I just… I… I was wrong. I was in a society… When he was old enough to fly, he invited me to live in his society with him. But…”

“Old enough to fly? That narrows it down to revealer dragons. They don't develop flight until around two years old.”

Gretel drew in a sharp breath and leapt to her paws, tail lashing. “I want to stop…! I don't want to remember him–I hate him!”

Guinevere’s wings returned to their neutral pink, ending their session.

“Gretel?” Gadalik stood calmly. “It's okay–he’s not here, it's just us.”

For the first time since the hypnotism started, Gretel looked at her friend, only to retreat a step from him almost if he scared her.

That's when Gadalik made the connection. “You’ve been confusing me with him… And earlier today you accused me of wanting to leave you behind to stay in a society… Is that what he did to you?”

“No!” she cried, but he couldn't tell if that was an answer or an exclamation. “I don't want to talk about him! I… I got out of there. He was nice at first, and they let me in, but he turned out to be just like everyone else!”

“Everyone else…?”

Gretel shook her head fiercely, then took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. She faced her friend again, this time with worry instead of fear. “Gadalik… don't go to the earth dragons…”

“What…? Why?”

“I…” She broke down, tears falling down her face. “I'm sorry… I'm gonna go…”

“Wait,” he pleaded. “We can talk about this–about us, not him. I'm not him, okay? Whatever he did has nothing to do with me… I care more about you than the earth dragon society, I promise.”

She bit back a sob. “I'm sorry,” she repeated. “I trust you… But you're so much like him, I… I just…”

“If you don't want me to go, I won't,” Gadalik said, fighting back how much he truly did want to go. The journey isn't worth it, anyway, he lied to himself. It's far and the weather will be cold for me and worse for Gretel. I barely even feel like I'm an earth dragon, too–I won't fit in there. Or anywhere… He felt his own emotions choke him; he was trying his hardest not to have another crisis about never being able to leave the forest.

Guinevere looked between them, sensing both of their inner conflicts as her wings dimmed to blue. “I think we all should wait until we're calm before making any rash decisions…”

“No, Gadalik–don't let me stop you,” Gretel sniffled. “I know how much you want to go. Guinevere's right–I just need space to calm down and think on it, okay…? I'm sorry… I'm sorry–I’m gonna leave now… I'll… see you tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, the striped wyvern turned on trembling legs and fled.