11.2

It was hardly the trip of a day, but still Jewel was so glad to be in her family home. Fort Rochford greeted her from its stones to the raised boxes of good earth Samuel tended. And as she entered the feasting hall, the crier beamed as he called out.

“Announcing the Countess and Shining Wyrm of Viznove, Lady Jewel of Rochford.”

They were not in fact making the full production of it.

Smithson, Gem and Jewel were all entering as one group. But really they were all of this household in truth.

The sheer joy of being here to see her family.

Her Mother, Father and adorable little Sister Gwenn!

The feeling filled her up.

Bubbling over along her wyrmflame into little Gem’s core.

Jewel didn't even think of it when she performed the sign. Making it with her smaller self’s arms as she spoke with her wyrmish throat.

“Hello Father!”

It Simply came to her hands and arms as soon as they entered the feasting hall. But It was only after her father stumbled over his greetings that she realized which hands she had used for the cant.

‘Gem’ was just so much easier to manage with her far more flexible shoulders and wrists.

The confusion from Mother was also palpable, looking between Jewel and Father. He finally found his words and fixed Jewel’s larger self’s eyes with wonder and exasperation. Voice strained in a very familiar way. Although she had not heard it in many years.

“She learned Flight Cant?”

Again the disbelief, the feeling welling up within her smaller self in a sudden rush. Driving one foot to stamp at the familiar stones.

The irritation simmering over.

She had spent nearly four years trying to explain this. To prove what it was that she felt and was and experienced.

Jewel sighed heavily and then spoke and canted as one.

“We’ve known it from the beginning. I’ve said it again, and again, and again!”

The surprise, the shock, the realization that she could prove it, that maybe finally she could make this fresh and confusing aspect of her life understood at last?!

The feelings burned inside.

It filled Gem’s eyes with tears and made both of Jewel’s faces scowl. It made her throat strain to not deepen to the fullness of her power. It made huffs and garbled birdlike warbles grow in Gem’s throat.

Father seemed taken aback somehow.

Surprised.

“W-what do you mean?”

What does she mean?! Jewel felt her flame flickering at the back of her throat.

“My daughter is me! Together we are one! But apart we are still me, All that she feels I will feel. All that I know she will know! It’s different but even when apart we are one!”

Again Gem stamped her foot. There was a roaring of blood in her smaller self’s ears. As she signed she trilled and snarled. Cut at the air with the gestures so harshly she suspected it was getting hard to follow for her father.

“I’ve told you this, I’ve told all of you this! Over and over and over again! I’ve said this and none of you understood! Well do you understand now?!”

Her voice was strained, her gestures sharp and violent. Her father and mother seem shocked, surprised, worried.

Smithson’s hand landed on her shoulder. There was a tremble in his fingers before he squeezed hard. Digging his gloved hand into her scales.

Jewel was breathing hard with both sets of lungs and no one else said a word.

And then in the silence that she left them in a voice cried out in sobbing fear.

Gwenn’s wails filled the room.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Momma!”

And suddenly like a strangling dowsing Jewel’s fire and anger was gone.

She took even a single step closer and even that made her younger sister throw herself against her mother. Wailing into the simple finery that was mostly worn for family dinners.

That struck her silent and still with the undeniability of it.

Jewel had terrified her sister.

Her larger self was locked into sudden paralysis. But Gem heard her sister cry and was moving before either of them could even think through what to do.

If one body moving frightened Gwenn the other would act.

Her smaller arms wrapping around her Sister and Mother.

Jewel was trilling softly, trying to pull her lips and throat to the task. But only managing soft soothing hushes.

Actions being followed by Mother soon after.

Leaving Jewel’s larger self frozen, staring at her father, every muscle in her face trying to silently offer the pained regret and apology.

Across from the familiar feasting hall was the very same expression on her Father’s face. She tried to speak. Voice soft and gentle, as gentle as she could try. But even before a single word could be uttered Gem’s smaller arms felt her sister tensing at the mere sound of the wyrm’s voice.

“...”

There was nothing she could say. Jewel had terrified her own family. Flesh and blood, her younger sister!

For what?

Because she was angry?

Frustrated?

Tired?

Jewel turned as silently as she could, even as she hugged and snuggled and whispered soothing sounds to her deeply upset sister. She fled the room that had been about to host her in a family feast.

She fled Smithson’s hand. Dragging scales from his clenched fingers.

She fled and hoped that when her connection broke she would be the one that remained to sooth her sister's fear. But as the distance stretched and then the experience snapped apart it was only Jewel as her larger self in the hallway of Rochford. Left alone outside her own family’s feasting hall.

Alone.

And again wishing that she was her smaller self just then.

That she was small and non-threatening like her spawn. That it could be her comforting her sister after such a fright.

That she was not the one who had frightened her in the first place.

That she did not have to worry about cursing a thousand men with an errant word in anger.

That her breath unrestrained did not unmake wizards, weirds and armies.

That she never hatched as a dragon.

Her flame was guttering lower and sparser inside, then it ever had except that one terrible day in the woods.

When she had laid in the mud and almost let go.

Jewel’s heart stuttered in her chest.

Her lungs emptied of air.

The stone’s voices were soft and gentle, welling up around her.

Whispering without words.

After all, she could stay with them.

She did not have to breathe.

Her heart did not need to beat or hurt so.

Her mind did not have to think and worry.

Her voice did not need to pass her lips ever again.

She could just lay down here in this hall on the stones and never stir again.

Gem was better than her in everything Jewel ever wanted to be.

If she just laid down now and-

“Jewel... Are you okay?”

A hand touched her still and slumped coils.

Smithson’s voice struck her flame alight like a spark igniting a dying hearth in winter.

Jewel’s eyes snapped open, her neck arched.

Air filled her lungs as she gasped and then choked at how raw and starved they felt.

Her heart aching in an entirely new way was forced back to beating.

Her head was foggy and painful.

Blood suddenly flowed again through her flesh.

She had been still.

Utterly still and silent.

Her flesh felt cold. Not uncomfortably but in a way she could not remember ever having felt.

Her voice was raspy and weak.

“Smithson...”

And like he had for her as Gem Smithson embraced Jewel. His arms were just barely able to close around her coils at their thickest.

Softly shushing and squeezing as hard as he could. Fingers gripping at her mane.

He embraced her with all of his strength. His muscles quiver like a taut bowstring.

To Jewel it was barely a slight pressure.

The press of all his might against her scales and muscles and reigniting wyrmflame?

Barely more than a soft breeze.

But she gently embraced him back.