Our foes are not dumb beasts but reasoning, cunning, malicious monsters who seek the destruction of our world and all that we could ever become. Forget at your peril.
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Being a vampire, Qahrvirna required them to wait until after sundown to go talk to Cyrindenth.
If it were anyone else, Jair could have gone on without her, but having a local in hand would make finding Eythron much easier. The paranoid old mageblade traveled erratically between any of over a dozen hideouts scattered throughout the Oriad, and to check each of them would take months. And even then there was the chance of missing him mid-transfer and never finding him at all.
Qahrvirna was one of several contacts Eythron might communicate with, people who’d have a better chance of locating the man than wandering blindly. And even if she couldn’t contact him directly, she was in communication with several others in the region.
The Oriad’s community was a loose collection of individual outcasts, like Eythron and Qahrvirna, or groups who preferred the physical dangers of the constant monster presence to dealing with society.
Or vampires. There was an advantage to being immortal and almost unkillable, which made living in ‘dangerous’ places less 'deadly' and more 'mildly inconvenient'.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing so far from your tower.”
“I come this way regularly, though if Cyrindenth is going to start having unreasonable tantrums, I may have to reconsider my suppliers.”
“Don't tell me..." Jair shook his head. "You use Emyxnar as your fireblood source?"
"Up until now, yes. He's much more reasonable about these things than the bulk of the others. But if his sister is going to be imperious about it, I may just look elsewhere."
"And you're suggesting we trade my legs for passage."
Qahrvirna shrugged dismissively. "You're the one who said you don't need them. I'm quite attached to mine."
"I'm not going to rule out the option, but I definitely think we need more context around her decision before I go giving up half my body."
"And you're sure you want to waste the day talking?"
"You could sleep, if you prefer."
She hissed softly, narrowing her eyes at him. "You do know how to make a girl beg, don't you?"
"You think I'd make it easy? I may know you, but you only met me today. You like games, you must know one conversation's not nearly enough to satisfy either of us."
Frustration seeped into her voice. "How do you know me?"
"I told you. Another lifetime that you will never know."
"Seer?"
"No. My years are lived, not observed. Which someone like you should appreciate."
"Mmmm… I do like someone with experience."
"Exactly. Now, tell me everything you know about Cyrindenth's decision to eat people's legs."
Cyrindenth was not a young dragon. Though familial terms like 'cousin' or 'sister' were often used for the dozen or so dragons living in this range of mountains, their actual relationships were... complicated.
They were all fire dragons, which was the primary thing non-dragons looked for in families. Where Emyxnar was all crimson fire and talkative arrogance, Cyrindenth was aggressive, territorial, and getting on in years to the point where 'unpredictable' was giving her a lot more credit than she deserved.
There was a reason most people preferred to go through three separate dragon territories rather than spend three days hiking through hers. While Emyxnar may change the rules up front, Cyrindenth changed the rules without warning.
"I wasn't planning to come all the way in one night," Qahrvirna explained, "I usually spend a day in one of her lower tunnels, but after she started talking about eating body parts I thought it advisable to get entirely away before dawn. I think I burned more starblood in that one night than I have for years."
"That explains the aggressive mood. Got to make up for lost energy somewhere."
Qahrvirna smiled coyly. "You make it sound so impersonal. I'm not saying you're a walking mana battery."
"I won't be walking long, if you and Cyrindenth have your way."
"Yes, yes, I already promised I'll deliver you to Eythron safely whatever happens, you don't need to keep bringing it up."
"You should try moderating your pouting face. It's starting to get repetitive."
She grinned. "You're welcome to correct it."
Jair ignored the suggestion. "Cyrindenth?"
"Yes, yes. She and I had an understanding. She would leave me alone, and I would leave a few barrels of her favourite elixirs in her basement when I left. We'd sometimes have a nice chat, more often than not lately. It wasn't even directed at me, she just mentioned that she'd started to notice impostors sneaking through, and the only way to be sure would be to taste a leg or so. Wouldn't be letting anyone else slip past her from now on."
"I wonder if that's why Desyov hasn't sent Emyxnar his dinner recently. How long ago did you pass through?"
"Less than two months?" She waved a dismissive hand. "Who keeps track of these things?"
"You've been with Emyxnar for over a month? I suppose I must retract my words about you moving too fast."
Qahrvirna shrugged. "There's plenty of him to go around."
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"And he doesn't mind your particular brand of company?"
"I think he'll miss me, when I leave him forever without a word of warning." She grinned. "I wonder if he'll come looking?"
"Not many people would think intentionally provoking a dragon is something to do for fun."
"Oh, he'd never do anything to me. We have far too much between us for that. But there might be a minor territorial clash if he finds I have a new patron."
"So how long were you planning to hide out in this random crack?"
"Well, to be honest, I wasn't planning to hide at all. I didn't remember Cyrindenth's nonsense about leg-eating until I reached the edge of her territory a couple days ago and heard her singing about it."
"Ah."
"One leg, one leg, three leg, true leg, pure leg... utter nonsense. I was going to wait out this phase until she'd let me through again, but then you happened along."
"So I can save us both some time, if I'm alright with never walking again." Jair shrugged. "What I need from Eythron requires sword and hand, there's no such thing as leg or foot imprints, and once I get Lift up and running I won't even need to rely on someone to carry me. I trust you have enough alchemical nonsense in that pack of yours to keep me from bleeding out? My protective and healing imprints aren't fully formed yet."
"Of course. I wouldn't take without giving back."
Jair chuckled. "But you're not opposed to skewing the proportions very heavily in your favor."
"Would you have it any other way?"
"Honestly? I don't care at the moment. I'm tired and angry and hope is a deadly fire that I can't release, but slips out of my hands regardless."
Qahrvirna tapped her lips consideringly. "Maybe you're right. Sleeping for the day could be what we both need."
"I don't want to sleep. You’re the nocturnal one."
"I'm open to alternative suggestions, if you’d rather we occupy the day otherwise."
"Of course you are.” Jair sat down against the wall and crossed his legs. “I'm afraid you can't afford me right now."
"Right now? Are you going to be cheaper later?"
"No, you're going to be better equipped to fulfil my requirements. Right now, you still have much to learn."
"Fine. Have it your way.” She sat down opposite him, watching haughtily down her nose. “We’ll stay boring and wait.”
It was enough to make Jair chuckle. “For an immortal, you sure do lean into the childishness.” He snorted and shook his head. “Then again, who am I to talk?”
They sat in silence for a time. Jair traced his imprints, and Qahrvirna tried to pretend disinterest.
“Is it a universal necessity that dragons go crazy when they reach a certain age?” Jair mused. “First Ryenzo, now Cyrindenth.”
“Ryenzo?”
“Veori poison matriarch.”
Qahrvirna winced at the coldness in Jair’s voice. “What happened there?”
“It eats a friend of mine. Obsessively. At least Cyrindenth only wants pieces.”
“Recently?”
Jair nodded.
“I’m sorry. I’d offer comfort, but I get the feeling now isn’t the time.”
“It’s not. Help me get to Eythron, and once I have what I need, you can have whatever you want.”
“Anything?”
“Everything but my sword and my soul.”
Qahrvirna’s expression turned sly immediately. “Maybe we should find a way to keep your legs, then.”
Jair snorted. “You offering yours?”
“No, but we can try negotiating. As long as we know we have yours to fall back on.”
“And you wait until now to say anything.”
“Would you expect anything else?”
"You realize this whole situation is absurd, right?" Jair asked. "How would she even expect this to go down? Do I stand? Lie down? She’s way too big to even use a claw without crushing me completely."
"I've never met someone as untroubled at the idea of losing a limb as you."
"I've survived worse."
She considered him for a long moment. "Despite evidence to the contrary, why do I not doubt that?”
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They made it almost a third of the way through the valley before Cyrindenth noticed them. She swooped down from her cave with a bellowing roar of "Impostors!" and landed in front of them with a ground-shaking thump.
"Impostors," she hissed again, the yellow frill on the back of her head pointing straight up. She wasn't as large as Emyxnar, but even denser. Her legs were thick enough you'd need a whole group to wrap your arms around them, and her wingspan was significantly longer. Her coloration was dull orange, almost yellow in places across her chest and throat. "I do not know your footsteps. I cannot trust your soul."
Qahrvirna raised a hand and rummaged in her bag, then swallowed a small square object with obvious difficulty, followed by a thick orange liquid. When she spoke, her voice resonated in the proper tones for draconic, albeit a few octaves higher than any dragon would manage.
"It's Kari and my friend, you know me." Her name when translated to draconic lost all subtlety of pronunciation, but even getting it that close was impressive.
"You never told me you had something like that," Jair grumbled in an aside. "I want the designs."
Qahrvirna gave him an evil grin, but couldn't reply at the moment.
Cyrindenth inhaled deeply, then growled irritably. "I know no one who smells like you."
"I left you four barrels of elixir when I came through. Wild quiet star---" Qahrvirna winced and prodded at her throat before trying again. "You remember that? In your east basement? We talked about your grandchildren being such disappointments."
Cyrindenth spoke, leaning down toward them, tongue flicking too fast. "I cannot trust words, only legs. Legs don't lie. Words lie. Words slither like snakes, a hydra of deception, but even a hydra can't grow back legs."
Qahrvirna stepped back hastily as the dragon's tongue left a melted line across the stone in front of her. "I can't grow back legs either, my dear. If you take mine, I won't ever be able to visit again. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"I do not need visits from impostors."
"If I'm not an impostor, then eating my legs would be pointless, wouldn't it? You'd be hurting your friend for no reason."
"Your hydra words will not deceive me!" She reared up, bellowing fire into the darkness, lighting up the ground for miles around in a brief flare. "No one passes with lying legs."
"This is ridiculous," Jair muttered. He raised his lizardbox and squeaked into it. "You test my legs, we go through?"
"Yessss, test them," Cyrindenth growled, dropping back down into a predatory crouch.
"Can we have them back afterwards?" Qahrvirna asked, almost desperately.
Jair raised his eyebrows at her. "You think you can manage that kind of reattachment? I only have a base class manabody at the moment. It's nowhere near strong enough to handle that."
Qahrvirna shrugged and made a back and forth motion between the dragon and Jair.
Jair stepped forward. The dragon's head lowered closer, heat shimmering off it even in the darkness.
The dragon moved slower and slower, teeth bared as it leaned in, almost gently, head tilted sideways, then in a flash its tongue snapped out and twisted around Jair's right leg.
He shifted his balance but otherwise didn't react, continuing to stare into its huge dark eye.
Then the tongue withdrew, and Cyrindenth leaned back and laughed. "Yes, you are no impostor. Go through, friends, and come again soon."
Jair checked his accosted leg, which was surprisingly uninjured from the encounter. His armor was slightly melted, but all things considered Cyrindenth had done a very good job of not hurting him.
“What was that about?” Jair asked.
“Underground—” Qahrvirna checked her throat again— “Is that the test? We’re done?”
Cyrindenth chuckled deeply. “Test, yes yes! Leg test! Only true friends have good legs, true legs, standing legs. Impostor legs only good for running. Ahahaha… you go, I go, we all go!”
She took off and flew away, singing in a rough chant as she circled the mountain higher and higher. “Good leg, fake leg, fast leg, taste leg…”
“And I thought I was erratic…” Jair shook his head. “Two down, one to go. I hope Muegvygh doesn’t have any bizarre vendettas we need to worry about?”
Qahrvirna didn’t answer, as she was busy doubling over and gagging to spit out her swallowable superior lizardbox-equivalent while Jair watched enviously.
“No,” Qahrvirna answered, in normal speech now, albeit somewhat hoarsely. She straightened, wiping the blood and drool daintily from her lips, then drank a vial of blue liquid before continuing. “Muegvygh is neither young enough to be an idiot or old enough to be… whatever that is. He won’t give us any trouble.” She pulled out a cloth and started to wrap up her pointy cube of a choking hazard.
Jair put out a hand to stop her. “If you’re done with that, can I try it out?”
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