White was given free rein to sleep where he wanted, since that was the only way to avoid another contest. That and choosing to not sleep with Naroe or Avira. This didn’t satisfy either of them, but both appreciated the consideration. Instead, the small dragon had wandered the halls and looked for a place to rest. The doors in the large home were all easy enough for him to open and Varen had said he was free to explore. “So long as you wait for me to feed you,” the General had added after seeing just how much the small dragon had eaten.

So White had wandered the second and first floors until he had found a nice, big chair by a window. Clouds had moved in at some point, releasing a misting shower into the darkened city, and White had found the sound of rain on glass soothing.

He wasn’t tired, so he stared through the fogged glass. The window’s view was fuzzy and distorted, but his eyes were able to pick out the obsidian poles that held white lights. They illuminated the streets and the dragon guessed that they had risen from the ground at some point, as Avira’s ladder had.

That had sent his mind to reflect on that day. And from there, into the day before.

White hadn’t been alive very long, at least by his own estimate, but he felt like a lot had happened in the past two days. He began to wonder if things were just as eventful for other newborns or if he was a rare case. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t bonded with Naroe and Avira.

From what he had heard at dinner, it sounded like he wouldn’t be thinking about these things at all. It seemed like he wouldn’t even be able to. That made him wonder if that would be better.

The small dragon huffed on his cushion, suddenly annoyed with the thought. He had a belly full of food and shelter from the rain. On top of that, he had made his first two friends. If Naroe hadn’t been there, he’d have been smacked through a tree by a giant bear. Though, he was curious if he would have survived that. Or if he’d just break. That made him wonder what would have happened then. What would happen if he broke?

The hatchling huffed again and rubbed his head into the cushion. How did Avira deal with this? Maybe that’s why she had all those books.

Maybe it was because he was bored. He looked around the fairly large room he was in. It looked like it was meant for people to simply sit in, as various chairs and small tables were scattered in groups but never encroaching on one another. Small shelves held mostly glass sculptures of animals while paintings of landscapes and creatures White couldn’t identify hung amongst them.

He hopped down onto the piled gray carpet and moved to a table with a cabinet door underneath it. Opening the inside, he found a dark cube that was more than half the size of him. Finding he could move it easily, White gently took it out into the dim light and revealed the dark purple of its wooden surface. He picked out the minuscule cut that marked its lid and began to open it. The moment the lid disconnected from its base, a single, very real note keyed from inside.

White immediately replaced the lid and looked up in fear of waking the others from their rest. He knew both Naroe’s and Avira’s souls had not stirred in their slumber on the floor above, but he had no way of checking on Reil and Varen on the third floor. He couldn’t know how strong their senses were, so if he wanted to hear what the cube had to say, he’d have to take precautions.

Now how to carry it? He looked at the wooden box, it was too big to pick up with his mouth. He could carry it on his back, but he worried that his spines would damage it. So that left only one option

White approached the cube and dulled his talons. He gripped its bottom and used his tail as a support to stand on his hind legs, lifting the box with him. Then, starting with shaky waddles that steadily improved, he approached the door opposite to where had entered. Setting the box down, he jumped and pressed down on the door’s handle. It swung towards him to reveal a staircase down into perfect darkness, one the hatchling could not see into.

This looked promising, but how would he get the box down with him? White looked at the steps to see they were carpeted in dull gray and short enough to slide the cube as he went. Angling the box above him, he rested it on his head as he carefully descended into the basement.

When White felt he had reached the end, he slowly lowered the box onto the floor. Glancing around, he couldn’t determine any way to turn on the lights, if there were any. But he did feel his eyes responding to the dark, a gentle tingle at their center. He blinked and saw the faintest traces of outlines in the void.

He became curious.

White climbed the steps and pulled the door close, sending himself into pitch blackness. He waited, the tingling in his eyes intensifying every second. He blinked and the feeling pulsed in his head. The small dragon continued to do so and was rewarded with a gradually forming picture of the descending stairs. When he could see a cube-shaped cutout in the dark that was an even deeper void than the space around it, he descended.

Taking it in his hands once more, White looked around the room. It was a drinking area, judging from the various biting scents competing for the hatchling’s sense of smell. A bottle-lined wall was sitting behind a long bar with a larger seating area taking up the rest of the room. It had a much more humble look than the rest of the house. Both the bar and all the furniture appeared wooden. White could just see the shaded grooves formed in the surface, the faintest light catching its somewhat glossy finish.

Wait, where was the light coming from?

He approached the bar, watching as the light grew stronger and coalesced into two shades. These took circular shapes when he was less than a foot away from the surface. The first and larger of the two he recognized from images he had seen in the bonds he had made. It was the same blue in his own eyes. But the second, one that was split into two and was more focused than the soft blue around it, was new to him.

He wouldn’t know it at the time, but it was the same violet that flickered in his eyes when he first awoke. At that moment, he simply took it as another change. They had yet to explain to him what his body being his spirit meant, and he didn’t feel like swimming through Avira’s steady transfer of information to make his own guesses yet.

So White looked for a spot to place the box. The bar was too high for him to throw it up there, so he settled for a table. Lifting it up and over onto one nearby, he hopped up and removed the lid once more.

The same note played a single soft cord on a piano that slowly descended into a slow melody. It played like a lullaby, stunning White with its unexpected gentleness. Inside was a slowly spinning figure of a large bird resembling the one on Rain’s armor made from shining steel. It rotated at the center of a whirling gear that was built into the box, obscuring most of its inner workings. Next to the parrot’s platform were a series of buttons, numbered with engravings from one to fourteen. Next to them was a single sliding control. He nudged the slider upwards and the volume from the box increased as he did so.

Now that it was activated, White could also feel both pulses of Light and Dark from within, working together to bring life to the machine.

As it continued to play its comforting yet melancholic notes, other instruments began to join in. Steady strings sounded in both high and low ranges to carry the lullaby into a grander sound. It gave White a chill, but not an unpleasant one. The music he had occasionally heard from souls had been impressive experiences of their own, but as White saw it then, they had all been chaotic. It was more like listening to a living body function rather than an ensemble play. This was something that took its many pieces and refined them into a singular, focused vision.

That vision took a rough shape in White’s mind. Two individuals, it didn’t matter who so their silhouettes never stayed the same. The only consistent thing was that they were always comforting one another, and White could feel it was in response to tragedy.

The song continued to play, filling his mind with hazy images. It was like experiencing the world within a soul but without the intensity.

As much as White enjoyed the new experience, there was something in him that made it feel like it wasn’t what he wanted right now. Some part of him was dissatisfied with the gentle notes that were currently playing. He looked down at the numbered buttons again before gently pressing down on the metal two and stopping the music. There was a low whir from the machine before a new song began.

There were no instruments at first. It started with a choir, wordlessly singing in praise. It felt like a more comprehensible rendition of what White had heard in the forest when Reil arrived, though that had felt more like the result of a happy surprise. What was playing now felt more ceremonial and was sung in gentle reverence.

Then they stopped and drums took their place. White heard the rhythmic range of all types, forming numerous but distinct beats that could have been the marching tune to a horde of beasts. From crisp percussion to rumbling booms, they each had their place in the beat. When the choir returned, the two came together to fully realize the vision.

This was the song of one who would march through anything. An undetailed shape of power and presence that kept forward despite what nature or war brought against it. White could see all the weapons thrown against it, the bombs, the natural disasters, but no matter how much White focused on the colorless blots of shapes in his mind, he couldn’t see what the warrior was marching to.

In addition, he still wasn’t satisfied with the music itself. It wasn’t played in poor quality by either the box or the performers themselves, but the song itself felt like the wrong key to a lock White only just realized he had. He wondered how long it had been there, though that didn’t really matter. Now that White knew it was there, he couldn’t help but scratch against it.

The hatchling looked down at the still-spinning bird and the controls beside it. He debated with himself briefly, before deciding on one at random. There was a soft click from the button labeled number seven. White almost jumped when the box began blaring a far more bombastic intro before hastily bringing down the slider and the volume with it. White could feel that Avira and Naroe were both still asleep, so he took that as a good sign and kept it playing.

Percussion, strings, wind, brass, and more seemed to compete for the listener’s attention, all while never deviating from the cohesive design they played into. It was loud, joyful, even celebratory, like the theme for a traditional festival. And for the first time, White felt at risk of being overwhelmed. He could see the lines of musicians giving life and light to a night of smiles and memories. He felt it, the weight this song was given from being used to mark an occasion.

White blinked, then muted the song entirely. He could have kept going, in fact, he wanted to in a way, but the idea of listening to such a song alone in the middle of a pitch-black room didn’t sit right with him. Though, when the music died away, he was surprised at how tired he felt. He couldn’t decide the cause of this, as he had felt fine before the third song and felt no change from the previous two, but he resolved to take it up with his… he needed a term for Naroe and Avira. Another thing to figure out later.

He looked at the still-moving bird on the music box, then back at the buttons. There was still that lock inside him. He debated briefly if that lock was more annoying than he was tired, and came to a conclusion. One more.

White pressed the metal eleven and moved the slider up just a little.

What played was completely different from anything that had come before. A single chord that reverberated deeply, waning and waxing in a distortion. It lasted into another long, deep note, and White saw them both take the shape of a vast sea. Then a beat was formed with alternating strikes, sparking the sky with lighting. Steady as they were, they made the roiling electricity appear more like nature’s heart pumping.

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Something else joined in, higher pitched yet still with greater range than what had come before, and began to sail through the chaotic world the previous instruments had created. There were words there, but White barely heard them, the voice of the singer instead taking the form of a blazing beacon out in the distance. It cut through the storm, acting as a marker, hovering above the water and giving life to the crew of the ship. If it marked land, White could not see it, and the shifting ship of sound never seemed to get closer. Yet it confidently rode the storm.

As the song played and the image roiled with life, White rode the ship. He let it take him through the storm willingly, watching as the ghostly wisps of the crew rushed from station to station. Standing by the helm stood a figure more defined than the rest, appearing to yell and gesture with the vocals. It was tall, broad, and dressed in a long coat and large, pointed hat.

As White rocked with the ship against the melody’s current as the beat lit the churning sky with energy, watching all of it. The crew around him, despite their apparent loose hold within the vision and jittery movements, felt excited. Almost as excited as their captain, who whooped with the triumphant tone of the vocalist as the chords that had set the sea sparked to life. They took the form of a wave that tipped the ship forward, it’s bow cleaving into the ocean like a dull knife before ripping itself out and dousing the crew in water.

Yet they only cheered with their captain in response, reaffirming their willingness to push forward toward their goal. This was what they chose, and they would see whatever end it would take them to.

The music began to fade as the song ended. White replaced the box’s lid and stared at it in the darkness. He had gotten what he was hoping for, that much was for certain, but now he had to verify.

When he listened to it again, the experience was very similar to his first time, but small things had changed in a way that added up. The brightness of the sky, the way the ship cut through the sea, how close the beacon was to the horizon. This excited White. Now, like Avira had shown him, he could test something.

Bonding with Naroe and Avira had many effects on him to be sure, but they weren’t the only things that had changed him. There was something else, something that had truly moved him. The fact that Avira hadn’t mentioned it made him disregard it for a while, especially since he had no idea how to recreate the feeling it had given him. Naroe’s duel with Avira had been without question a sight to see, but it had been a duel. Reil displaying his vast power had been an extreme experience to be sure, it was contained and put on display only.

When Naroe punched that bear, a beast that may have even stood over Varen, he had shaken the earth. That hadn’t been a duel, that had been a fight. Borrowed power or not, Naroe had committed his life to a conflict and had put everything into winning it. That had left an incredible impression on the hatchling.

But now this song had done the same, and it was much easier to replay than Naroe’s life-or-death situation.

He discovered on the third listen that he was able to take the base elements of the vision’s world and change them. With this came the realization that he was the source of these visions rather than an effect of the music box. His mind dove freely into the music then, pushing the limits of what was possible until it deviated too far from the song and collapsed.

After another ten replays, he had successfully tired himself of the activity. Closing the box, he resolved to listen to the other songs at a later date. There was no guarantee they would have the same effect, or if he even needed the same feeling to alter their worlds. He also didn’t know if any of this was actually useful, but everyone seemed so keen on figured out what made the small dragon tick, so he figured might as well help where he could.

He gently lowered the box to the floor before taking it over to the bottom of the steps. Placing it down, he looked back up at the door at the top of the ascent. White wasn’t sure what the best option was to bring the box safely back up the steps, but he believed opening the door ahead of time was the best starting point.

He climbed up to the last steps before clearing the extended jump and pulling the lever. The door swung into the first floor, revealing little had changed both inside and outside. What was different, however, was that an identical wooden block to the one White had just left sat in front of the door, as if it had been waiting for his return.

White looked back down the staircase to see that his box was no longer there. He side-eyed the cube that sat near him, then he did the same to the rest of the room. He slowly inched over and gently lifted the lid of the box. The first note from the first song played once more before White closed the lid.

The hatchling hadn’t sensed a thing, which in his mind pointed towards someone of the Order. He couldn’t read them unless some sort of conditions had been fulfilled and he didn’t even know what those were yet. It was especially dark down there and given whose house this was, White was fairly confident in his guess.

How long had the General been watching him? Why didn’t he make himself known until now? Forget about sensing his soul, how had White not seen, heard, or smelled him and the dragon knew for sure that everyone had smelled like fish after dinner. Granted he still smelled the various alcohols from the basement, but he didn’t think he could ever forget that fish.

He closed the door and grabbed the box, deciding to put it away where he had found it. Then he took his seat again, looking out into the still pouring rain. White couldn’t begin to guess what the mind of Avira’s father looked like, so he decided not to dwell on it for now. Out of every possible interaction, Varen had decided to aid the small dragon without even allowing it to thank him. Though it wasn’t like he could properly voice his thanks. White wondered if the General even knew the hatchling had realized it was him.

His ethereal gaze flicked to Avira’s soul in the distance, a churning fortress that shifted even in her sleep. Yeah, her father was probably capable of figuring that out.

White let out a huff. He thought he had tired himself out, but this tiny event that spanned an instant had added enough fuel to restart his mind. It didn’t help that Varen had been on guard with him until just a few hours ago. That change still puzzled him.

His throat admitted an annoyed growl that matched his age and size in tone as he shook his head in an attempt to settle his thoughts. Why was he so concerned about this now? He just wanted to sleep. It was so much easier to sleep before thinking had come into play.

There was a tap of ceramic on wood and White’s head snapped to the nearest table. Sitting there was a plate carrying a steaming hot mug and a small, rounded, yellow pastry.

White blinked and searched the room again and found nothing. He hopped from his seat and cautiously approached the table. When he got on top, he smelled something familiar. It was mixed in the warm melted chocolate in the drink and the freshly baked batter of the cake, that sweet scent that was unique in its strength yet was only ever there in hints. White had smelled something like it only in the apples and strips of meat he had eaten, but this wasn’t quite the same. Those had come with a sort of kick that White found difficult to describe. This was subtle, gentle. A flavor took hold of you before gently carrying you in.

He eyed the presented food with some trepidation, then decided the meal was worth any risk.

He began with the cake. It had no toppings or fillings, in fact, to most eyes it appeared quite plain. But it was warm, moist, and fluffy. That unique sweetness was worked into every bit of the simple batter, taking over its taste entirely. While the warm, chocolate drink had sweetness to spare. It had the same extra element the cake did, but its subdued taste worked to take off the edge from the rich chocolate. This meal was a deadly combo and White felt it was a crime that there was so little.

The small dragon alternated between the two in complete bliss, completely forgetting the thoughts that had been plaguing him. By the time he finished the meal, he was yawning. By the time he lay back into his chair and licked himself clean, he had fallen asleep.

All the while, dwelling within the extended shadows of the room, the master of the house smiled with the joy of a satisfied host.

________________________________________________________

The clouds had parted to reveal the rising sun just barely poking out from behind the buildings of the city. Puddles left from the rain lay scattered about the yard and roads, but citizens were already going about their days through steady foot traffic. Birds sang as they took to perches around the waking metropolis.

What awoke White had not been these marks of a beginning day. The hatchling’s nose perked up as it caught something in the air. It was faint, but it filled his skull and naturally snaked its way into his stomach. It had none of the unnatural sweetness like his midnight snack, but its source pulled him in just as those golden apples had.

He raced off his seat, opening and running through doors at an increasingly efficient rate, following the scent. He heard the sound of sizzling trailing through the halls before finding the source. Standing in the kitchen, humming the tune that White had been listening to while tending to a lit stove, was Reil. He wore simple gray clothes with a pair of white socks. In his hand was a rather large pan holding sizzling strips of meat.

The kitchen itself was large, with lines of cabinets and various cooking stations taking up its walls. In the center was a massive steel container, something dark pulsed from within. But White didn’t care about any of that.

Reil’s eyes caught White’s wide and intense gaze, and the old man couldn’t help but grin. “Catch.” He reached over the counter next to the stove and tossed something in the air. White knew what it was the instant Reil had taken it. The hatchling could smell it, see it, and when it left Reil’s hand it appeared to move in slow motion.

So it was a bit of a surprise for Reil when WhIte was already moving before he had fully thrown it. The dragon rushed forward, pounced up at the perfect height, and caught the piece of cooked meat in his mouth before its throw had peaked.

It was a little charred, but it had a savory flavor with just a bit of spice. White loved it. He looked up at Reil expectantly, his tail slowly wagging side-to-side.

Reil gave an amused laugh, “Varen told me you had a late night, but it’s nice to see you so active in the morning.” White stopped, unsure of how to react to the confirmation of the General’s presence. “I don’t mind him spoiling you while you’re here,” Reil continued, “that's partly why I didn’t want him taking you to the heart.”

When he glanced back down after setting aside the meat, he saw he had White’s attention. The old man wasn’t sure if that was because of his words or the food he was preparing, but he decided to act in favor of the former. He went to the steel box in the middle of the room, lifted up one of its latched lids and retrieved a wooden container. White felt a particularly cold touch of darkness and realized the coldbox’s purpose while Reil opened the container to reveal secured lines of large brown eggs. He began again as he started cracking them into different bowls and pans.

“I believe it’s safe to say you’ll change things, White.” He didn’t look at the dragon when he spoke. “You’re proving that quite quickly and I have no doubt you’ll be a good friend to have, but we still don’t know what you are.” Now he looked at the hatchling, who hadn’t moved.

White didn’t know why, especially given the previous night’s contemplations, but he wasn’t particularly worried about that part. That being said, he understood what Reil was getting at.

“You seem so likely to be connected to the planes,” Reil continued, “yet they don’t recognize you at all. So, since you appear so young, I thought maybe something would develop with time and that raising you took priority.” The older warrior shook his head as he emptied a few pans and poured a beaten mix of eggs into a skillet. “I believe that one day you will come into contact with either of them naturally, but Varen appears determined to expedite the process.”

White was listening, but neither Naroe nor Avira were nearby so he had no one to speak for him. He had to admit that the situation annoyed him a little, but the fact that this felt more like a lecture rather than a conversation didn’t seem to deter Reil.

“I know they will more than likely remain silent,” he said as he rolled up various fillings into eggs. “But if they do react to you, then there will be no going back. So I can’t help but feel we’re rushing things here.” Reil turned back to see White staring intently, rapidly dissipating drool occasionally dripping down from the corners of his mouth. “Were you listening?” He asked.

White nodded because he had been.

“Do you feel any sort of way towards your situation?” Reil asked.

White wasn’t sure how to communicate that he felt his situation would improve drastically if he could eat whatever Reil had just cooked. He could only nod then point at the counter where the food lay, then nod again while patting his stomach.

Reil blinked at him, nonplused. “Do you grasp the situation you’re in?”

White nodded again because he did, but he didn’t feel one way or the other if they waited. He had been given plenty of examples about how powerful the planes were and he saw how seriously they were all taking it. He also felt how important it was to Naroe and Avira that it went well.

Yet, despite these things, he just wasn’t worried about the planes. If they didn’t do anything, then things stayed as they were. He had no complaints if that happened. If they did something, he would just have to learn to live with it. He had only just started living, true, but learning to live with power didn’t seem that bad. He supposed they could end up hurting him, though he didn’t get the sense it would come to that. He couldn’t form an opinion of the planes yet, however, they didn’t seem like the type to just destroy what they didn’t like, despite what that Keeper had attempted.

So none of that had been a real focus for him. Keeping Naroe and Avira happy, getting good food, and learning more about what he could do, were problems he was currently focused on.

Reil couldn’t have known the full extent of White’s feelings on the matter, but he released a defeated breath and lifted a plate down to the hatchling’s level. White was delighted to see more strips of meat and a large egg roll packed with an oozing filling.

As the dragon devoured its breakfast, Reil went back to prepare for the inevitable request for more. “Maybe I am worrying too much.”