It's a little awkward to hop up on the higher seated cot, but Joey manages it on the first try, and her leg protests little at the motion. She lays against Angela's side, against those deceptively soft feathers. "So…what's on your mind?"

“Well, that could be one hell of a roulette wheel." Joey winces when she says it like that, but Angela shrugs softly.

“Bad dreams of what happened?” she inquires after a few seconds of hesitation.

“Yeah. The mutilated corpse of Curtis taunting me, haunting me in my one safe place,” she replies unhappily. She doesn’t know why she’s so quick to open up to Angela–she’s kind of like Drenar in that way, with that warm charm that is almost inexplicable. Angela hardly tries for it, either. She lets out a soft rumble.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, Joey.”

“It’s not just that. I try to rationalize the things that have happened, and it just–” she sucks in her breath, too afraid to bring up the worst of it. “I’m dangerous. He’s right.”

“No you’re not. Not from what I’ve seen.” It’s strangely relaxing that Angela doesn’t press further on it, and yet, seems to have a grasp of what she’s talking about. “Why him, and not Val?”

“I don’t know. Val’s just a murderous psycho. Curtis is…everything I could be if I let go.” She doesn’t elaborate on it. “Yeah. Messed-up dreams that’ll fade, eventually. How are you healing?”

Angela gestures to her scales–the cuts, discolored scales, the large gouges where Val had raked her claws across her–show signs of healing, and have slowly begun to fade. “It itches a lot. There’s a little bit of pain, I feel like when I flex my dermal plates, it feels a little stiff. Is that the right term for them?”

“Eh, close. Dragon scales are a bit of an exotic substance. Compared to the fiction of too many stories I read when I was a little kid,” she adds with a hint of amusement. To think so few people knew the truth about Kin in the world, and the wonders of their biology are still widely unexplored by modern science. She traces one on Angela’s arm, and she points at the armor scales. “These ones just shed, if there’s enough damage. It’s easier than healing up the armor scale, plus when they scar up like that, it’s easier to compromise. Draconic biology is quite resilient at times.”

“You are a scientist at heart, Joey. I dare not put you and Julia in the same lab together, you’ll make…well, you’ll make dragon science a thing! Probably at Drenar’s expense,” she adds with a throaty laugh. “That boy needs a little bit of a break for a while.”

“I wouldn’t cross boundaries. I do have some ethics. Well, minus setting evil fiends on fire.” Angela taps a claw on one of her tapered horns, and she sighs contentedly.

“You’re a firebug, aren’t you?”

“I just happen to like it when things transmute in a profound alchemical release of potency! Which also usually makes fire,” she adds with a foxlike grin. She rubs at Angela’s feathers on her mane, and her expression morphs into something more relaxed. She sighs almost dreamily. “Oh, uh, pardon my manners. I was looking to see if any of the cuts were inflamed. Feather accents can hide injury or infection.”

“I…don’t actually mind that. It feels…hmm…kinda nice.” She stretches an arm out lightly, and her tail goes limp, the tip swaying gently on the edge of the bed, while Joey parts the feathers. No injuries to worry about. “Oh. What are you doing? Because you should keep doing that." Joey runs her fingers gently through her feathers–despite their feathery texture they are a marvel of draconic biology. “Is that a um…normal reaction?”

“Preening feathers releases endorphins for dragons. One could argue it's to encourage maintenance as a biological necessity. It's not limited to your wings; it may also be associated with the forearm accents, chest mane, or on the facial accent feathers. Though, that last one might be a bit more…sensual." Angela gives her an amused look, with a hint of a toothy smirk.

"I presume you're speaking from a cultural perspective, and not a personal one?" Joey feels her cheeks warm, and she stammers for a second. Angela lets out a soft snicker. "Well, I think I can rule one of those out."

“I’m uh…pretty sure I still have a preference for…” She trails off and glances at Drenar, a short distance away. Angela takes the cue, and she chuckles. “Well, I think so, though I haven’t exactly been pursuing…relationships of late.”

“So, I’m guessing there’s a story behind this one?” Angela says coyly and twirls a feather strand around her claw.

“You could say that. Anyway, the whole uh…thing with draconic social relationships isn’t my strongest suit, but you pick up on some stuff when you extensively study their biology. I've read so many books on what used to be their culture. Now it's all just a bunch of questions for drunk twenty-somethings on Tuesday night trivia at a dive bar in the Mercadian Promenade." Joey scoffs softly at that. People just didn't care about the marvels of kin biology or culture at all anymore!

"Jeez. You are a hardcore academic Joey, but you still have room for feelings of heart." It feels like a compliment from Angela, at least. "It's funny, you preening my feathers, it kind of reminded me of when I was younger. Back before my mom went full-on bitch mode. Back when I was a sickly little kid, she used to do that for me. She’d run her fingers gently through my hair, Every night. Sometimes in the middle of the night, too, when I'd wake up, crying. Back when she cared.”

“She doesn’t care now?” This answer surprises her, and Angela lowers her gaze, and she clicks her claws together. Almost as if she’s anxious.

“I don’t know what to think now, Joey. I guess when I was no longer dying, it just wasn't as important." Joey glances up at Angela, who's got that far away look, before looking right at her, and her face droops. "I'm sorry, I know you've got so much more on your plate–"

"No, I want to hear more. I need something–anything, really, to keep my mind off of what happened. When you were younger, were you ill often? I think Julia mentioned it once, but I didn't pick up on it at first." Angela nods quietly, and gently puts an arm around Joey's shoulder. The size difference makes it difficult, but she appreciates it anyway.

"Yeah. I was sick. I had a congenital heart defect.”

“It was bad?” She can’t imagine how something that severe could be not bad, in hindsight.

“My sister…never saw the waking world. I know my mom never recovered from that. She had a defective heart, she didn't make it past six months in the womb. James and I were supposed to have an older sibling, and it just…” Angela stops and clears the mist from her eyes. “Bad luck runs in the family. James got lucky, but I had the same issue, just less severe.

“We were waiting in an organ donor list a mile long, and I was not going to last much longer, according to what James told me. I celebrated my fifth birthday in a hospital bed. I couldn't even eat the cake, it was pretty bad. The cake, I mean," she adds with a soft laugh. Joey nods along and smiles faintly. "It got bad. Really bad. I crashed twice. They got me back within a minute. I crashed a third time and…I was clinically dead for fifteen minutes."

She winces when she says it aloud, and Joey presses her hand firmly on Angela's claw. "'Clinically dead'. Those two words have been stuck in my head ever since my dad mentioned it about a few months ago. Mom gave him this death glare, like he was supposed to never speak about it, and later, she was screaming at him. Thin walls do wonders for when teenagers listen to the real relationship between parents, and it wasn't pretty."

"Fates Angie, that's horrifying. But, you're alive right now. I still feel your heartbeat. This isn't some purgatory. Or heaven. Or nirvana. Or Elysium," she adds with a soft sigh. "You're here."

Angela shakes her head, and looks weary. "Joey, I shouldn't be alive right now. You spend that long clinically dead, even mages get written off. Even dragons. And I was none of those when I was five. Part of me wonders if magic wasn't involved in my revival. Mom and dad would rather eat a cyanide pill than tell me, their own daughter.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Her free hand goes to her chest, and it's only now that Joey notices the incision lines, traced faintly over her scales. Old, well-healed scars, something that translated between her human form, and her mighty draconic form, and showed the total vulnerability of such a brave woman. "It made for some…interesting discussion with Julia, about why I always wore a one piece swimsuit during the summer, or why I'd get dressed by myself."

"Do you mind if I–no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't…" Angela tilts her head, and smiles instead.

"No, it's okay Joey. You're a specialist in draconic biology." Angela pulls her hand away from her chest, and motions for Joey to examine her. She traces the scars. Sharp, precise cuts. The kind you might need to place for a heart transplant, though the invasiveness has diminished with modern robotics and surgical procedures. Joey can imagine the scale of them when she's in her human form.

"They were in the process of the transplant?" Angela has that far-away look again. Like she's trying to figure something out.

"No. According to Dad…I never got a heart transplant. But James remembers that I was supposed to. And that's what set my mother off, big time." Joey frowns and examines the scars again. It's lined up exactly with where the draconic heart would be. "Can a regen potion heal a defective heart?"

She ponders on this for a second. The answer is as academic as it is disturbing. "No. Regen potions and similar magic only restore to the baseline state. It's why mages and dragons aren't immortal, that would be mighty scary if you could just keep using regen potion to restore failing organs as we age. No matter what, we all eventually succumb to the ravages of time. Even if dragons live a whole lot longer than most. Wargen live about two hundred years. Kitsune can get to four hundred, if…if we're careful. Elven can live almost as long as dragons, but they rarely last that long."

When she spoke of herself, Angela nods solemnly. “I've never seen a Kitsune before. I think I saw a few of the Wargen back in town, but…as you can imagine, our parents kept us completely walled off from anything magic.”

“You've been missing out, Angela. On a lot of things.” She sits back and rests her head on Angela's flank, and she doesn't mind this at all. “Thousands of years of history and wondrous secrets of our world. I still don't know what happened to you in the lab, or in the power core. Or what the deal is with Luminari. But more importantly, I don't know how your heart healed. Or why there's a shard of mana in your heart at such a young age. How are you still alive?”

Angela looks at her, and her jaws quiver for just a second. "I don't know." Hearing that gnawing doubt in her voice, Joey knows that a huge unknown is weighing on her more than her blank in academia. "I know that my survival is not a coincidence. I know in my soul that it has something to do with the past few days. We need to find answers.”

"You've got my back, Angela. We’ll find answers. Maybe even Kyle can lend a hand,” she vows. “But, we might have to wait a little while to try to solve that mystery. Does anyone else know the details?"

"No. Not those specific details. I suppose it bothers me now, since there's a lot of stuff going on with…well, all of us now,” she adds with a tender glance at Joey. "Drenar hasn't seen my scars, either. I…didn't want him to, which is why we didn't get quite as far into our relationship as we could have by now. And we sort of put things on hold between us on Thursday, because I was worried someone might use that against us." Joey lets out a soft sigh. “Why do scars carry over, anyway?”

“Same reason injuries carry over. Harming one harms the other. It's a strange quirk of magic. Angie, you're still beautiful, you know that, right? I don't mean from just the physical perspective, either." Angela looks a little more at ease.

"Yeah, I get that. I'm comfortable with who I am now, even if it might take a little time. But all this stuff…Joey, Sam and I were both given a second shot at life. And I don't know how, or why. The mana crystals, Luminari, the way my scales changed…I don't know what it all means. And it scares me a little.”

We were both brought back for a purpose, Angela. Samarina’s voice carries through the connection, filled with renewed determination. I don’t think it was a coincidence we bonded together. We both had unfinished things in this world. A life taken too young…and a promise unfulfilled.

“Oh? Decided to join us?” Joey decides to tease out a response.

I’ve been here. I was just waiting for the right moment to speak. Angela smiles faintly, and Joey feels that mental tug of Angela and her resident drakensoul–like a warm blanket wrapped around her soul, in a way. I failed in a task, before joining the rest of my kin in obliteration.

“Val killed her children,” Angela says quietly. This sets Joey on edge, and she curls her nails into the leggings of her sleepwear. “Val has so much violence and untold grief to answer for.”

They were not my children by birth but by bond. A secret task that a few dragons knew the full details of. They had been guarded for a long time. They were special…and then they were slaughtered. The children of Gaia.

“I’ve heard of this. Supposedly–if I recall my history lessons–they were direct descendants of the goddess Gaia, offspring between mortals and herself.” Joey shakes her head. “I thought it was just a myth. No one’s ever come up with convincing proof that Gaia was ever real.”

Someone believed it strongly enough, that I was made the ward of five of them. Whether they were truly special, I never saw the end result. I only remember when I was overwhelmed in a skirmish during the war. Val knew about them, I remember her–the face was different, but that vile soul of her was the same. I took a lance in the gut, coated in a debilitating poison that kept my healing suppressed. When I came to, they were…gone. Val was not quick in ending them. Sam’s voice is tensed to the point of breaking, and Angela slumps. This is why Val has to die. Not just for them…but so many others she’s taken.

“We put her on notice, Sam.” Joey’s words firm up. “She is not getting away with the wanton violence she inflicts everywhere she goes. Not anymore.”

There is one hope: she failed in her task. I know this because Angela is living proof. Both of them let out a sound of surprise.

“Sam, what do you mean?” Angela asks, her feathers ruffled at this revelation.

One of the children…could talk to the crystals, like you can. It spoke to them.

“Sam, the crystals aren't alive. They're just minerals and aetherial energy, stitched together–” But, Joey falters in her words. Is there more to them than anyone can know? There has to be answers here. Answers they are sorely lacking. “Who was this child?”

Gone, now. I held her in my arms as she died. She said Gaia was weeping for her children. Devastated that such hatred for such beauty existed. Angela wipes away a tear from her eye, and swallows uncomfortably, and Joey is filled with a haunting pain in her heart, and she rubs uneasily at that clenching pain in her chest. You will not suffer the same fate, Angela.

“Damn right, she won't.” Joey sits up, and ignores that clenching tightness. “She's afraid of something. I saw it. Eyes alight with terror when she saw your crystalline scales. I don't know what they are, but if we ever get my lab back up to shape, we’ll put it to good use. You have my word on that. We’ll find out, one way or another.”

“Oh, fates. Dragon science. That's gonna make Julia's day.” The fact that she can see any kind of positivity in all this, is telling of her mental endurance. Her snout curls upwards to just the faintest hint of contentment.

They will find the answers together. No matter where it takes them.